#“your dad is inside that 16-year-old?”

[ellemeditdance]

Is Rick ever going to come back to that bit in TOA where he implied that Chiron was meeting with folks from the other pantheons about a potential threat?

Because if we do get an avengers style crossover I really need there to be a scene where Nico walks into the room and is like, "why is there so much death here. The Norse brought a couple of dead guys and the Egyptians brought actual death, but he's hiding inside that 16-year-old."

[quadrantadvisor]

Sometimes I still think about The Owl House Gang all trying to watch ATLA together but then Zuko's backstory in The Storm retraumatizes Hunter so bad they have to stop

[cyberdollface]

╔══ ❀•° Daisy Chains °•❀ ══╗

Summary: You seduce your dad's best friend, the hound of the underground.

fem!reader x Vander.

Warnings: smut with a little tiny bit of plot; size kink; sexual frustration; sexual tension; masturbation; fantasizing; teasing; slightly bratty reader that torments Vander.

word count: 4.457.

Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

Your dad asked you to take the order for the newest deal inside the store, as it was too heavy for Ekko, his new adopted kid, to gather from the spot you were on to the middle of the alleys 3 feet below.

Your dad’s best friend was there too. The big, mighty Vander was busy saving a small salesman from a beating and making the dealer pay the money. It was cute how caring he could be to the nation of Zaun—his people. It made you want him more. 

You were a teenager, barely 16 years old, when everyone followed him, marching to the other side of the bridge, and taking the first seat when it all came down. Now, you were standing in the same place as they did, but 10 years later.

You admired the old man, the best guy around Benzo. You even missed him while doing business away from home in the Noxus Empire, but you couldn't deny it. He looked even better now with his softer belly and pepper and salt hair.

You felt his gaze before you could see it. He had been looking at you since you got back to town. You pretended that you didn't see his longing eyes on you every time you went to the Last Drop with your friends in your short, pretty dresses, or whenever you hung out with Vi and the kids, teaching them to climb their way up to Piltover.

He always got himself together, though. One who wasn't chasing his behaviors wouldn't have noticed, but you did. You loved his attention; how couldn't you? Being desired wasn't new to you, but it being him made it different. All that authority and aura made you feel a little bit cogent. You couldn't help it; it was going to your head.

His eyes following you when you walked away for the day or even fixed your voluminous hair couldn't go unnoticed for you. Even around your poor, unaware father…  Benzo could not even suspect it. His own friend gawking at his older daughter, full family gatherings passing around more rapidly with your new game of catching his attention.

Vander approached you, cutting off your thoughts:

“Where are you going with all that heavy stuff?” 

It wasn't late, the sky had just got dark.

“I'm going to drop this off at the shop” You smiled at him. “I wouldn't mind some help, you know.”

He raised his eyebrows, contorting his face into a slight grin.

“Can’t deny helping a lady, right?” His posture straightened when he heard your giggles as if he was more sure of himself now.

You kept walking steady, even though one step of his equaled two of your own, he was ensuring that you were walking at the same pace. You guys even managed to make small talk now and then, cutting through the crowd.

“You’re going to the market tomorrow? Heard there's gonna be some good stuff there.” 

He said to you while minding his steps.

“Of course, I'm going, Van. Wanna buy some more skirts and dresses, you know? Quite like this one I'm wearing” You smiled again.

“It looks cute on me, doesn't it?” You posed for him the best way you could with the small box in your arms. Of course, he grabbed the bigger one to carry.

His eyes went momentarily darker as he stared at you. It lasted only for a few seconds before Vander averted his eyes. A trash can now looked really interesting at that moment.

“Yeah, it looks… good on you.”

You were having too much fun.

As you two neared the back of the shop, you thanked him, soon enough you would be putting the boxes away in the stock and closing its locks. 

“You know what else I want to buy at the store?” He leaned in closer to you to hear you better. 

“A new nail polish. It's green, kinda yellowish” You hold your hand in front of you, passing one finger atop a nail as to illustrate the act of painting them.

“Hmm, quite close to this color” you approached him, lightly touching the buttons of his shirt.

He stopped breathing, swallowing thickly while looking at your hand on him. He cleared his throat.

“I better get going, you know… open up the bar.” You couldn't help but laugh a little, looking up at him through your browns.

You had his full attention, Vander was radiating heat, and you could almost taste his want for you, for something.

“You wanna fuck me, right?”  You ask him while playing with the buttons on his shirt. You couldn't help but notice how big he was, standing at least 40 centimeters taller, his frame twice your size even though you weren't exactly a small girl.

His left hand goes to your waist, playing with the bow tied to your red dress. You lift your eyes to hold his gaze, raising an eyebrow.

"You know I would do anything, for it – for you. But we can't, you know it right? We shouldn't – I shouldn't"

It was working—hell, yeah, it was working. It made you feel powerful, how much of a reaction you could get from a man like Vander, especially when you knew he wasn't so easily charmed.

"Well, that's a real bummer, huh? I need someone like you...—" You made a show of tightening your arms together, showing more of your cleavage to his hungry eyes. "... Ya know, I've been thinking 'bout it, daydreaming, but it's never enough. Can't ever fill me deep enough with my fingers, it doesn't matter how hard I imagine it's your hand instead of my own." 

You pout at him, grabbing his fingers from his right hand just feeling how wide and long they are, not stopping your mind from wondering how they would feel inside. Could you even accommodate more than one? Hell, you would die to know. You let out a hot breath and realized that the hand you were holding was trembling. Did you just make the hound of the underground shake?

You grab him, making him press you more against the wall, one of his legs between your tights. The slit in your long dress gets higher and higher the more you flex your thigh.

Vander let his head lay low on the wall, his nose right in the curls of your hair. It smells good, he thinks, it's always good. He took a deep breath, no more fighting the hard-on he was growing.

"Think about you too, princess... Too fucking often" He pinches your waist then drags his hand lower and lower, reaching the skin of your thigh revealed by the slip in your dress.

You reach between your bodies and put your hand on top of his to ground him, making him grab the fat of your thigh harder. It made you gasp a little, eyes closed but you didn't need then to know he lifted his head to peek at your reaction. Fuck your face was pretty... Dark skin shone with the low lamplight of the street you were in.

The frenzy you two were in reached its end as you heard a loud crack on the streets, followed by voices.

It was like his mind returned to earth, his hands were more sure of themselves, Vander cleared his throat, getting off your hold and adjusting your dress.

As he distanced himself, you couldn't help but finally look at the obvious bulge in his pants. It was promising and Vander could feel the wet spot he made in his trousers with his precum.

You knew that he was close to breaking. You would eventually get what you wanted; you always did.

You watched as he fixed himself, trying to hide the taint but failing, his cheeks pink.

He tried looking at you over the wall, the disappointing expression on your features, damn you were pouting again. The sight made him throb in his pants so he looked away.

"I should go, fuck, should've never come with you in the first place–" he passed a hand through his hair, which was falling in his face and sighted "– Good night, I guess."

You will eventually get what you want, you told yourself. You always did. 

Vander avoided you for some days, never letting his eyes lay on you for too long, making conversation short. He could see that he was getting on your dark side by denying you attention.

He couldn't help it, he already had a good imagination by just flirting, your little escapade with him only served to feed into his fantasy.

In the late nights, he found himself palming his trousers, mind drifting to you. Vander wished he would have kissed you that night, smudging that pretty shiny lip gloss off your lips. He grunted slowly, he hated that he had to do that again, beating one off to his friend’s daughter. Fuck he was disgusting, but the kids were sleeping, he had time for this at the very least. Vander never thought he was being so obvious, but honestly, how could he help it? When you went to his bar on Friday nights you always wore the thinnest mini skirts ever, fuck that black one was his favorite, hanging low on your hips, your soft tummy lightly poking out… The memory made him throb. 

Suddenly his pants were too tight, he needed some relief, needed you. Sitting upright in his bed, he pulled his sweatpants down below his balls, just enough to free his cock. He let his imagination hang free, thinking about how easy it would've been to just bend you on one of the tables, making you feel him, how you made him feel. 

He spat on his hand, leading it to his dick, smearing it up and down. You would have offered your body to him, he knew that now. Fuck, what type of panties would you wear? One time he got a peek, white and frilly with some lace, really cute. Vander loved your thighs, he knew it would feel amazing between his hands, around his cock. His hands were working faster on his length, he was panting a little, biting his cheek to remind himself not to make too much noise, that the last thing he needed was some of his kids waking up.

You always smelled so good too, sweet, it was sweet. In his fantasy you giggled at him that way he found endearing, looking back at him and arching your soft body so the skirt would flip over your butt.

He was getting close, fuck his balls were aching so much, he needed that release.

You nodded at him, as to say ‘Go ahead, Van’ wiggling your bottom to encourage him, he didn't need to be rushed twice, he touched your ass, countering the fabric of the frills, when he got to the bottom he found the spot wet, it was so easy to imagine himself pulling the cloth aside and filling you up. You looked tiny under him. God, he tried his fingers around his fat tip in the upstroke to mimic the tightness of your hole, letting out a grunt. It was all he needed to cum in his hands, cursing your name under his breath. Fuck, he was disgusting. 

God, he prayed Benzo would forgive him. Vander can never let this fantasy of his come to life if he gets all worked up with just a few stolen glances and some dirty talk… Imagine what actually fucking you would do to him? 

“We are closed.”

You said when you heard the door from Benzo’s open thinking it was just a regular customer. To your surprise, it was Vander, and by his stunned face, you could see that he wasn't expecting to see you behind the counter.

He stood there awkwardly, sucking his teeth and gazing at his feet with a pack of papers in his hands.

“I thought Benzo was working today, I’ll… I’ll come back another time.”

You rolled your eyes at him and said: 

“My dad will come back at night. You should look for him around 8 pm, Van.”

You said while returning to paint your nails on the counter. He recognized the color, it was that green nail polish you had talked about that night.  You had indeed bought new dresses in the market, he had memorized your everyday clothes by now. That dress you were wearing right now was pretty, the pinkish color looked good on you.

He was already turning his back to leave when you dared to speak again:

“You have nothing to say, Vander?”

He sighed. You have always been stubborn since you were a teenager. He turned around irritated, his brows furrowed ready to scold you.

“I’m sorry about that, okay? Shouldn't have never gone that far.” His eyes were sharp as he was exasperated for just having to talk about that.

It made you even angrier. That day you played with yourself all night because that stupid man didn't want— no he didn't dare to finish the job. He left you hot and wanting in that damn alleyway.

“Now you say you didn't mean it? Hells Vander, now I am offended!”

You finished painting your nails and got off the bench, pouting as you made your way to the center of the store.

“We both know damn well what you did when you got home that night… You've been rubbing one off thinking about me for quite some time now.”  Now you were standing in front of him, trying to look mean, pointing at his chest with your manicured nails.

“Too bad you're too much of a pussy to do something with the real thing.” 

You waited for his reaction with a smug look on your features. Did you want attention? You would get attention.

He took a sharp breath and looked down at you. Vander was getting tired of this game of cat and mouse, if there was a proper time to solve the issue, it was now.

He sighed loudly before saying:

“Stop this shit, you know damn well we can't do this.” His voice was low, holding a bite to the words.

 It was a warning, he freed his hands from the paper and held your arm down. It made you smile, he was so much stronger than you, and you wondered what he could use that strength for.

He saw the grin on your lips and he tightened his grasp on you, face twitching into something dangerous. You pressed against him, closing the distance even more, not running from him.

You flexed your fingers in the air, your hand in an odd position with the way he was gripping you. It was like the world disappeared around you two, you wanted to kiss him, make him lose it, so you got on your tiptoes, your face closer to Vanders now, being able to feel his breath on your face.

“Not asking you to marry me, ya know? Just asking to be fucked…” You sneaked your other hand up to his side, grabbing the fabric of his shirt near his hips tight with your fingers. Oh, you hoped you didn't ruin your nails with all this playing.

He leaned down on impulse, only realizing his movement when you two kissed. Vander pressed you more against him, if it was even possible to get closer, now one hand was still gripping your arm as the other went to your waist. The hound tasted addicting, like mint and cigars. You moaned slightly in his mouth.

“Thought you could do this for me… Been wanting this for so long ” You said, making a trail of kisses from the corner of his mouth down his bearded jaw as his right hand kneaded your skin, feeling up your body.

“Know you want it too, old man. So why not just do it?”

You said with your lips grazing his. Vander couldn't escape your affection, you had him wrapped around your daisy chains. 

He brought you forcefully around the counter, getting you easily on top of it. 

He kissed you with purpose, as to compensate for how long he took to do it, even though he was still apprehensive to touch you.

You let your hands wander from around his neck to his big shoulders, down his muscled arms, finally reaching his hands and leading them around your bum.

Vander groaned, breaking your kiss away, and gathered your skirt past your hips, revealing your lower body. He broke the kiss away to take in the sight, his body between your legs with you on the counter. 

He could see your soaked panties from this angle. Damn, he was losing it. He gazed at your covered pussy intently, tracing his fingers to the outline carefully making you gasp.

He had grown a chub in his pants and it throbbed badly. He wanted to see it bare — needed to. You noticed him staring, dropping the weight of your body on your elbows behind you and chuckling at his reaction.

“You can take it off, Van.”

He eyed you, hating the expression on your pretty face, so full of yourself for what you accomplished. He wasn't himself now, he wanted to see it, your cunt felt chubby against his fingers, your wetness sticking to his skin.

He tried to still his hands while taking your underwear off, but failed. He noticed that you had seen it and yanked your bottom forward into him, kissing you to cancel his annoyance. You pushed him closer to you, making him bench a little as you left his tongue to dominate yours. 

Vander was so affected by the act that he started to grind his bulge against your folds, hands groping all your body with his big calloused hands.

You got out the kiss, letting lose a little moan against his ears, which turned him on even more, hells, you had him cursing under his breath. 

“Fuck me, please!” You whimpered under your breath. Vander opened his eyes he didn't notice were closed to look at you, your pouting face and doe eyes. It was wrong. The whole situation was fucking  wrong, he can’t fuck you in the damn shop, in your dad’s counter, what the hell was he doing.

“You don't need to put it in, Van!” 

You wiggled your hips to try to get more friction from the rough material of his jeans that confined his borderline painful erection. Your bare pussy leaving dots of slickness on the fabric, he realized he said that out loud when you answered.

“Just rubbing is fine!” You whined closing your eyes when it grazed your clit just good. 

“Take it off, please? Please!” You begged.

He grabbed your hips firmly, Vander couldn't help but gaze at your pussy again. "Stop the fuss, princess– fuck" He panted into the air.

You opened your legs wider, "Van, if you just use it to jerk off it's fine, right?" You used your hand to open the inner lips wider to his hungry eyes.

"I-if you just don't put it inside it's going to be fine, just rub your cock right here" 

You gathered slick in your fingers and ran them up and down your folds, which made you hiss, grabbing your bottom lip with your teeth.

You were giving him a headache, but when he returned to himself he was already taking his hard cock out of his trousers with trembling hands. You pushed him closer with your legs and put your hands on his member for the first time, your fist not quite closing from the thickness. It was feverish hot and so heavy it wouldn't even stand, instead, hang low right next to your center.

You stroked him to the top lightly, pushing it into your pussy, so he could feel your entrance. Vander let out a trembling sigh when you started to guide his cock up and down your folds, coating him in your essence.

His eyes closed when you started to moan for him, he was bumping your clit continuously with that big head of his cock. It was a shade darker than his skin and so fucking big... You know you were the one to propose to him to just use your cunt to jerk off, but you wanted to feel it inside, stretching you.

"Fuck, fuck, you're so..." he opened his eyes to see you shyly smiling at him.

"Is it good for you too, Van?" You meowed when you felt him take hold of his member, lightly shoving your hand off. He applied more pressure on it, so it was rubbing harder against you. You were so fucking wet and hot against him, he could barely speak, instead, he let his mouth open panting slightly.

His other hand found itself holding your right thigh open from behind your knee, sure it would leave bruises.

"Wanna feel it inside, please?" You moaned, your hands reaching the neckline of your clothes, pulling them down to reveal your chest to him. You knew what you were doing to him, turning his brain to mush.

"Can't do it, you know I can't" he grunted closing his eyes not to look at you in fear, he knew once he saw your pouting face he would listen to your every word. 

You got that quickly, lifting one hand to his face, pulling him atop of you so you could give him a smooch on his lips and moan into his mouth as his tip grazed just right against your folds. His hands are now caging you, arms successfully holding his weight so as not to crush you.

"Open your eyes, want to see you" He tried to say no, but you caressed his face in such a loving way... He'll be damned, you will be his downfall for sure.

When he stood comfortable still kind of hovering over you, he opened his eyes, and what a sight was you, sparred all over Benzo’s counter, opened wide for him with your tits spilling from your dress, one of your hands guiding his dick down your slit to your entrance. Fuck, Vander could feel you spasm around nothing trying to pull him inside.

"Just the tip, Van." 

You sighed, giving him your best puppy eyes as your right hand on his face caressed his jaw, your thumb firing his mouth agape, gathering his spit and bringing your fingers to one of your nipples, pinching lightly.

"Wanna feel the stretch…” You moaned for him. “Don’t you wanna feel me too?”

His hips jerked upwards, his eyes wide as his gorgeous tip stretched your opening. Your toes curled and Vander tensed on top of you, holding himself back from pushing all his length inside.

"Fucking hell, you're so, f-fuck" his eyebrows were scrunched. You couldn't help but smile drunkenly, haha, the big scary Vander was at a loss of words over you, because of you.

The thought made you clench, his hands flying to your hips as to make you still. All Vander wanted was to empale you on his dick, make that sly smile on your face disappear and give space to a scream.

You put your hands between your bodies again, he was more relaxed and that was the perfect time for you to guide his head slowly in and out of your cunt, tightening your fist around him a little.

He was all grunts as he manhandled you alone, taking your hands off him and putting it to his heart, that you realized later that was racing. Vander's eyes were moving intently between your cute face and your cunt glistened in slick.

You brought your other hand to your mouth gathering spit and dragging it over your soft belly into your hooded clit.

Vander was losing rhythm, "Gonna cum, ahh" 

He was panting like a dog, trying to pull himself out of your grasp, but you used your legs to cage him.

"Please, let me out, princess, can't do it like that." 

He was falling apart, too pussydrunk to do anything about it. His tip still going in and out of you in shallow thrusts.

You said: "No, no! You gotta do it in me, inside! Wanna feel your cum filling me up.”

You were stubborn, grinning between meows and moans, it made him irritated, you were always the brat, fuck now he was angry.

He shoved his whole cock inside you and gave you what you wanted, cumming deep inside with a grunt as your nails dragged across his arms.

You whimpered while he took his time being milked by you, as he worked your clit at a fast pace.

You finally came on his cock doing a final clench that made him shudder.

He got down to earth eventually, removing himself from inside you, and admiring the mess he made of you. You giggled shyly, waking him up from his stupor. Suddenly his brows furrowed, he remembered he was mad now, at himself for being fooled, at you for charming him.

He stopped his seed from spilling on the counter, which was already a mess with your slick, pushing his thumb slowly inside.

"Happy now?! You got what you wanted, just know it won't happen again."

He was putting himself back in his pants with a scow on his face.

"Let's see how you manage, old man.”

Your legs were trembling when you tried to stand to gather your underwear. He had to support you with one hand, then helped you fix your dress.

He got away from you, trying to find the bottle of water Benzo got at the shop, filling a cup and giving it to you.

He gathered his documents long forgotten on a side table, getting ready to leave.

"Oh Van, no goodnight kiss?" You approached him slowly, damn he could see his cum running down your plush thighs.

"Maybe if you play it nice I’ll let you fuck me again, this time properly."

He passed one hand through his hair while closing his eyes.

"That ain't gonna happen, I already told you"

Was he scolding you right now?

"Then I gotta have to look for another man to do the job."

He gave you a look, his eyes dark. Tormenting him was always so much fun! He turned his back to you.

"I should probably go, before... Before someone sees me"

Vander felt so upset, but when he closed his eyes he saw you, your body under him, the thought making him bulge again.

He knew damn well it was going to be another time, honestly, he could not wait for it.

Wrote this with my pussy btw. It was clapping in morse code, all I had to do was type it down.

Happy Christmas, guys!

The cute divider is from: @strangergraphics-archive

[azzifudd]

as long as i live

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: inspired by jensen mcrae's massachusetts

rated: teen

4.9k words

disclaimer: fictional!

notes: well! i'm not exactly coming out of retirement, but according to google docs i started writing this in june 2024 which seems wild to me. i pushed myself to finish it up so i could post it for you guys, if anyone's even still interested in reading my stuff. it's a bit different from stuff i've written before but i hope you guys like it anyways. listen to the song while you read, it's great :)

[AO3 LINK]

When someone tells me they're from Massachusetts, now I always ask, "What part?"

“So, where are you from?” 

Part of Azzi cringes inside as she asks such a cliche and boring question, but this is the second blind date she’s been on in the past month, and her social battery is at an all time low. At this point, her date is lucky that she isn’t talking about the weather.

“Born and raised in Minnesota, but I moved out here after college for work.” Her date, Savannah, takes a sip of water, tongue darting out to catch a stray drop that hangs off the corner of full lips. 

Minnesota. Azzi feels her heart stutter at the word. 

“Oh, where in Minnesota?” 

“It’s a small town, you’ve probably never heard of it.” 

It doesn’t even matter, but Azzi wants to know, needs to know.

“Falcon Heights. It’s where the-“

“The State Fair.” Azzi interrupts. “That’s where the State Fair is held.” 

“You’ve heard of it?” 

“I’ve been before, I had a…” Azzi hesitates for just a moment too long. “A friend from Minnesota. We used to go every year.” 

“Maybe I can take you back someday.” Savannah smiles flirtatiously, but it drops when she sees how Azzi is staring off into the distance, unresponsive and trapped in a memory long since passed. 

Azzi gags as she watches Jose bend over a trash can, emptying the contents of his stomach after a clearly too intense roller coaster. 

Their mom rubs a hand along his back as he finally straightens up, face pale and sweaty. 

“I guess this is a good time to finish up our night.” 

They’ve been at the State Fair for over 12 hours at this point, and even though the place is still fairly packed, Jose and Jon have been visibly flagging for a while, and Jose’s sickness is a clear sign for them to start heading home.

“But we haven’t even gone on the ferris wheel yet.” Azzi complains, pouting.

“The line looks long, honey. I’m not sure your brothers will make it.”

“I’ll stay with her.” Paige pipes up. “And my dad can pick us up after we’re done.” 

Azzi bounces excitedly on her heels, gripping Paige’s arm with both hands. 

“Please, please, please?” 

Tim and Katie exchange a look, clearly having an unspoken discussion. Soon Tim shrugs, leaving the decision up to his wife. 

“She’ll be safe with me, Mrs. Fudd.” Paige says, so sweetly earnest in the way only a 16 year old can be. She still hasn’t gotten used to calling Azzi’s parents by their first names.

“Oh, I know that, sweetheart. I’m just worried about what sorts of trouble she might get you into.” 

Katie laughs as Azzi sticks her tongue at her.

“Okay, fine. Just keep an eye on your phones in case we need to get a hold of you.” 

“Thank you!” Azzi gives her parents kisses goodbye and hugs her little brothers before grabbing Paige by the hand and dragging her over to the ferris wheel. 

She’s so excited to ride that she doesn’t notice how quiet Paige is. Her friend normally hardly shuts up, but Azzi doesn’t realize how unlike herself Paige is acting until they’re being ushered into the gondola.

The metal car creaks loudly as it moves, sending them slowly up into the sky. 

“Paige? Are you okay?” 

Paige’s hands are tight around the metal lap bar, fingers pale as she squeezes it tight.

“Yeah!” She says, squeaking when they jolt to a sudden stop, about halfway to the top. 

“Are you afraid of heights?” Azzi asks, almost incredulously. Paige isn’t afraid of anything. She’s always ready to jump in head first, with hardly a thought to the consequences. They’d already ridden most of the roller coasters here without a problem.

“Hell no!” 

Azzi might be more convinced if her eyes weren’t squeezed shut as they started moving again.

“Why’d you agree to come on if you’re so scared?” 

“You wanted to.” 

Azzi feels blood rush to her face. She smiles shyly in response. No one has ever made her feel as special as Paige does, like everything she says matters. She presses close to Paige’s side as the ferris wheel screeches to a stop at the top. 

The view is spectacular. The lights from the rides, nothing compared to the brightness of the stars above them. But Azzi doesn’t look.

“Hey.”

She reaches over and grabs Paige’s hand with her left hand, pulling it from the bar and intertwining their fingers. With her right hand, she reaches up to gently grasp Paige’s chin. 

“Don’t look out there. Just look at me.” 

Paige’s eyes flutter open. Azzi’s mouth feels dry suddenly. She licks her lips watching as Paige’s gaze darts from Azzi’s eyes to her lips and back again. 

Her eyes shine under the light of the moon. They’re beautiful. Paige is so beautiful. Azzi’s heart pounds in her chest. This moment feels more dangerous than sitting hundreds of feet in the air with only a bar of metal keeping you safe. 

Paige leans in, so slow that Azzi knows she could pull away if she wanted to. She doesn’t. She leans in the rest of the way instead, and puts her heart in Paige Bueckers’ hands. 

//

I wonder if you kept the pilgrim ashtray if it's still propped up on your bar cart

“You’re home pretty early, how was it?” 

Colleen had called Azzi almost as soon as she had stepped through the door, which told Azzi that she had likely been checking her location through the night. She had been encouraging about it when Azzi had told her that a teammate was setting her up with a friend of theirs, someone from outside the basketball world. 

But Azzi knows Colleen is still holding out hope that she and Paige are meant to be. She hasn’t mentioned her to Azzi in months, not since the last time she’d had to comfort a drunk Azzi who had broken down just from hearing her name. 

“It was fine. I fucked it up, the usual.” 

Azzi pops the fridge open, pulling out a bottle of wine and grabbing the bottle opener on the door. The bottle opens with a pop and Azzi pours a full glass, takes a few big sips from it, before filling it again. 

“Oh, babe. What happened?” 

How can she explain that the mere mention of Paige’s home state had sent her into a spiral and that she’d had to make a stupid excuse to leave and now probably wouldn’t be able to face her teammate without making a fool of herself. 

“No biggie. We just weren’t compatible.” She takes another swig of wine. “I’m just gonna take a bath and go to bed.” 

“Okay, Azzi. I love you. You know I’m always here if you wanna talk.” 

“Love you too.” Azzi doesn’t know how she would have gotten through these past two years without her. 

Azzi heads into the bathroom, running the faucet to fill the tub. She goes to light one of the many scented candles she’s been gifted over the years, this one that claims to release a relaxing scent, just what she needs tonight. 

The lighter sputters weakly and doesn’t ignite. With a sigh, she heads back into the kitchen, digging into the junk drawer where she knows she has seen a box of matches. 

She finally finds it under a pile of old charging cables, but stops short when she sees what’s printed on it. It’s faded and worn, but the word Ted’s is still visible. 

She rubs her thumb over it. This pack of matches has somehow made the journey from Storrs all the way to her home in San Francisco. 

Azzi slides the cover off. There’s only one match left inside. 

The candle goes unlit. The match untouched. 

“Who wants shots!” Paige’s voice echoes through the bar.

It’s Azzi’s first time at Ted’s as an official member of the team, and Paige is clearly dedicating herself to making sure she has the best possible time. 

Azzi isn’t sure she’s seen Paige stop smiling since she moved into the dorms, and it must be infectious, because the butterflies in her stomach haven’t rested since the moment Paige showed up at her door to help move her in. 

“Paige, relax!” Christyn says, patting Paige on the head and laughing when Paige swats her away to fix her displaced hair.

“Here we go!” Liv comes back to the table holding a tray full of shots. 

The team gathers around, each taking a hold of one of the glasses. 

“To our new teammates. Welcome to UConn, and let’s win a national championship. Go Huskies!” They all throw back their shots at once. 

A few hours later, as Azzi dances with Caroline and Amari, Paige comes bouncing up to them, slipping her arms around Azzi’s waist and swaying behind her. 

She presses her face into the side of Azzi’s neck. “Come outside with me for a sec. Nika gave me a lil’ somethin’ if you wanna try.” 

Azzi nods and lets Paige lead her outside by the hand. It’s a lot less crowded outside, and the light breeze feels good against her sweat slicked skin. 

Paige guides her to a more secluded corner where a lone picnic table sits underneath some fairy lights strung along the patio. Paige sits with the bench between her legs, pulling Azzi to sit next to her. 

She pulls out a joint and wiggles her eyebrows at Azzi. 

“You wanna?” 

Azzi had never dared to try it in high school with her parents always around, but she wants to now. The season doesn’t start for months, and practice not for another week. She nods, eagerly. She knows that there’s no safer person for her to try this with than Paige, who would never let her get hurt. 

Paige passes the joint over. “Hold this for me for a sec.”

She pulls out a fresh box of matches, pulling one out and lighting it with a quick flick of her wrist. She holds it to the tip until it glows. 

“Go ahead.” 

Azzi hesitates for a moment. “I just breathe in?” 

“Mmhm.” Paige nods, watching with rapt attention as Azzi brings the joint up to her lips and inhales. 

A hacking cough bursts out of her throat before the smoke can even hit her lungs. 

Paige laughs as she rubs Azzi’s back. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” she chokes out when she can finally breathe.

“Okay, okay,” Paige holds up her hands in apology. “Here, let’s try another way.” 

She takes hold of the joint, sliding closer until their legs are touching. She brings it to her lips, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in her chest. Then she leans in, giving Azzi a chance to pull away. When she edges just a bit closer instead, Paige seals their lips together, exhaling when Azzi’s mouth opens against hers. 

She keeps them pressed together until she feels Azzi breathe in deep. When she pulls back, Paige keeps their foreheads pressed together.

“How was that?” She asks, voice raspy. 

In response, Azzi just hooks a hand around Paige’s neck and kisses her again. 

//

Could make a grand off of the chain you bought me, but goddamn, it's not for sale

“Azzi!” 

Azzi barely has a moment to steel herself before Nika nearly bowls her over in a hug. 

“I’ve missed you so much.” Azzi says, returning the hug. They hadn’t seen each other since the last time their teams had matched up, but with both teams now out of playoff contention, they had decided to get dinner while Nika was in town.

They spend the night catching up, telling stories and reminiscing about old times, both often changing the subject when it approached the elephant in the room. 

When they’re both three cocktails deep, Nika finally asks, “Do you think you’ll go to the Finals?” 

Azzi knows that the girls have been planning a reunion to see Paige play in her first Finals. She’s sure that it hasn’t gone unnoticed that she hasn’t said anything in the group chat. 

“Of course.” 

She hadn’t told anyone, but she’d booked the ticket the minute the Lynx had clinched their series. Nothing could keep her away. Her hand goes up to fiddle with her necklace subconsciously. 

“That’s great, Azzi. I know she wants you there, more than anything.” 

Nika’s eyes flicker down to where her fingers are toying with the chain. She drops her hand. The charm bounces against her chest. To this day, she can’t explain why she still wears it, just that it’s become like a part of her.

The first thing that Azzi notices when she wakes up, is that there’s someone asleep beside her. It isn’t the strangest occurrence in this house. Sometimes one of her brothers will fall asleep next to her, or one of the dogs will come in seeking her warmth. 

But this body is pressed against her back, a heavy arm slung around her waist. Even the way their breath puffs against her neck is familiar. But the only person Azzi wants to be sharing a bed with is hundreds of miles away, so Azzi turns to lay on her back, her wrapped leg only protesting a little. A wave of blonde hair covers her face. 

“What?” She whispers, because this shouldn’t be possible. She swears she had just fallen asleep talking with Paige about the team’s resounding victory in Aaliyah’s home country. 

Her phone still rests next to her head. When she wakes the screen up, there’s one unread message from the night before. 

Paige💗

See you soon, baby 💗😘

She nudges at Paige’s side, suddenly too impatient to wait for her to wake up. Paige groans, but she opens her eyes, blinking blearily and clearly exhausted. She smiles wide when she sees Azzi. 

“Hey.”

“What the fuck?” Azzi murmurs, still a little bit stunned, and presses close to kiss Paige deeply. 

“Never been happier to miss a night of sleep.” Paige says when they part, smirking.

Azzi whacks her on the shoulder, but gives her another light peck. “What are you doing here?” 

“I missed you. Merry Christmas.” 

Azzi is leaning in to kiss her again when her dad’s voice comes echoing down the stairs. “If y’all are awake, breakfast is almost ready.” 

“Okay!” 

Azzi throws the blanket off of her body, sitting up. 

“Hold on a sec.” Paige walks over to where her duffel bag has been dumped by the door, digging through it. 

She walks back and sits down next to Azzi, holding onto a black box. 

“I know Christmas isn’t actually for a few days, but I can’t wait any longer.” 

Azzi takes the box in her hands, feeling the softness of the velvet under her fingers. She opens it to reveal a silver heart encrusted with diamonds dangling from a delicate chain. It looks a lot like a necklace that already sits in her jewelry box, except this one has an infinity symbol embedded within the heart. 

Azzi feels choked up all of a sudden. The meaning of the symbol is not lost on her. She puts the box down on her lap and raises a hand to cup Paige’s cheek. 

“I love it. I love you.” 

Paige leans their foreheads together. “It’s a forever kinda thing. Just like us.” 

//

You broke me to pieces, but I root for you even though everything went up in flames

The buzzer sounds, and the Minnesota crowd is silent. It’s the end of the third quarter, and the Liberty are leading the Lynx by seventeen. Even from up in the suite, Azzi can see how bad Paige’s body language is, how she’s already beating herself up for the loss even though there’s still ten minutes left in the game. 

The camera focuses on Paige, seated at the bench, staring off into the distance even as her coach speaks in the huddle. Azzi stands suddenly, startling KK. 

“Where are you going?” 

“I have to get down there.” She’s not quite sure how she’ll get to the bench, but she’ll figure it out when she gets there.

Luckily when she makes it down there, she bumps into Paige’s agent Lindsay, who greets her with a hug. 

“Azzi!” She looks surprised to see Azzi. “What are you doing down here? I thought you and the other girls were up in one of the boxes.”

“Hey.” She replies, distractedly. “Do you think you could get me courtside?”

Lindsay gives her a slightly pitying look. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

“I know it is.” Azzi says, absolutely certain. She knows, at least, that she has to try. 

Lindsay leads her to her seat, just a few rows behind the home bench. The Lynx have cut the lead to thirteen, but there’s still a steep hill to climb with less than half a quarter of the game left. When one of the Liberty passes skips out of bounds, the Paige’s coach calls a timeout to steady the team. 

Paige stomps back to the bench, clearly frustrated and lifts her jersey to wipe the sweat from her face. As she reaches the bench, she finally looks up, eyes locking with Azzi’s. She freezes. 

Azzi smiles at her, and taps a hand on her chest where the number 5 rests proudly on her chest. 

“Breathe.” She mouths. “You got this.” 

Paige finally blinks. Azzi sees her take a deep breath, and then another. She nods at Azzi before taking a seat on the bench and listening as her coach speaks. Then she’s sticking her head in the huddle and taking charge. 

Her teammates all watch with attention, swept up in her emotions. Azzi misses it sometimes, the way Paige could make you believe you could accomplish anything just because she believed in you.

The buzzer goes off, signaling the end of the timeout. As she heads back onto the floor, Paige turns back toward Azzi. She rests a hand over her heart and then points back to Azzi. Her teammate inbounds the ball to her. 

In the remaining minutes, Paige outscores the Liberty all by herself, and the Lynx come back to win game one.

“Congratulations, Ms. Rookie of the Year.” 

Azzi steps up to Paige, wrapping her arms around her neck and leaning in to kiss her. Paige has been talking with the press all day, and Azzi hasn’t seen her since she left the apartment this morning.

Paige turns her head, and Azzi’s lips land on her cheek as she turns her head to check one end of the hallway, and then the other. They can hear the sound of a door opening in the distance, and Paige flinches minutely. 

Azzi drops her arms and steps back, eyes focusing on the ground.

“Hey.” Paige looks down, making eye contact with her. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” And Azzi does know. She knows Paige really is sorry, and that it’s not just something she’s saying to appease her. It doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

Still, she throws a smile on her face. “You ready to head out?” She’d made a reservation, at one of Paige’s favorite restaurants, a few weeks ago for them to celebrate. 

Paige’s expression shifts again, just barely, but Azzi knows every inch of her. 

“What is it?”

“The team invited me out to celebrate. Phee got a hook up at a restaurant. You’ll get to hang with Dorka.” Paige says, like it’s a consolation prize.

Azzi feels that familiar disappointment swell within her, but she pushes it down. They’re going to celebrate Paige, so Azzi will go along with a smile on her face.

It’s not even 11 PM when Azzi decides that it’s time for her to go. Her head is pounding and she’s barely spent even five minutes with Paige since they got to the club. She finds Paige by the bar, grabbing another round for the team.

“I’m going home,” Azzi says, trying to avoid looking into Paige’s hazy, glazed over eyes. 

“What?” Paige frowns. “We barely just got here.” 

“I know, you should stay and celebrate, but I’m going.” Azzi pushes past, not letting Paige talk, she can’t have this conversation, not here. 

She pushes out the door, breathing in cool air. A quick peek at her phone shows that her Uber will be here in just a few minutes. She jumps when a hand clasps her shoulder and turns to find Paige. 

“What’s the matter? You’re upset.” Paige looks so worried, and it makes Azzi almost want to laugh, if it didn’t hurt, just how clueless Paige could be sometimes. 

“I’m fine. Go back inside,” she replies, voice short.

“What happened? You barely talked to anyone the whole night.” 

“I’m tired, Paige.” Azzi blinks furiously as tears fill her eyes. “Sometimes, I just want to be able to hold your hand, and I can’t, and I can’t even be mad at you about it. I’m so tired, so please, just let me go home.” 

Paige freezes. Her hand is outstretched, but she’s stopped short of making contact. For a moment, Azzi wishes Paige would just grab her, hold on, tell her to stay. But she doesn’t, and Azzi just gets into the Uber and drives off, leaving Paige behind on the sidewalk.

When Azzi wakes up the next morning, she feels hungover, even though she had barely drank the night before. Her eyes feel swollen from crying and her body sore from being curled up in a ball all night. Paige isn’t asleep beside her, but that’s no surprise. Sometimes the blonde will sleep on the couch when she gets home late because she doesn’t want to disrupt Azzi’s sleep. 

She finally drags herself out of bed, heading toward the kitchen in search of caffeine. She stops short when she sees Paige sitting at the counter, nursing a cup of coffee. 

“I’m surprised you’re awake already.” Azzi offers, feeling regretful at her harsh tone from the night before as she looks at Paige’s drawn, tired face. 

“Haven’t slept.” Paige takes a sip of her coffee. 

She finally looks up, into Azzi’s eyes, and before she can even speak, Azzi knows. 

“Paige…” She starts, voice already wobbling. She sits gingerly in the chair next to Paige.

“Azzi.” Paige responds, sounding so steady Azzi shouldn’t be able to suspect that she is about to break Azzi’s heart. But Azzi knows Paige, and can see the pain in her expression. 

“Don’t do this.” 

“I’m doing this for you.” Paige reaches out for Azzi’s hand, and when she holds it gently, they’re both shaking.  

“Don’t.” Azzi chokes out again.

“You deserve so much more than what I can give you.” Azzi notices how Paige stares behind her head, unable to even make eye contact with her. 

“I know you are a lot of things Paige Bueckers, but I never thought you were a coward.” Azzi jerks her hand away, wrapping her arms around herself. 

“I’m sorry.” 

//

The fire in my gut that I've chased ever since

“Azzi! Wait!” 

Azzi almost doesn’t hear her over the constant hum of people moving about the arena. But she’s always had a sense for Paige, from the moment they met, like a thread connecting them no matter where they were. She stops in the hallway where she had fled after the final buzzer had sounded.

“Congratulations, Paige.” 

“Thank you.” Paige pants, still catching her breath.

There’s a beat of silence, but it’s almost comfortable, in a way the space between them hasn’t been for years. 

“Azzi-” 

“Paige-” 

They laugh when they both speak in unison. Azzi puts a hand out, gesturing for Paige to talk.

Paige steps forward, reaching her hand out, a question in her eyes. 

Azzi almost says yes, almost reaches out to answer. But she’s been burned before, and it’s not always easy to be brave. So she takes the easy way out. 

“Win this thing, and then we can talk.” 

“‘Win this thing?’ The championship?” Paige asks, almost incredulous. 

“Yeah.” Azzi smirks at her, already drawn back into a familiar banter. “Unless you don’t think you can do it.” 

Paige scoffs immediately. “I’ll see you when I lift that trophy.” 

Paige had already known she was going to play her heart out, but nothing gets her competitive spirit going more than Azzi challenging her. 

Paige stares at Azzi for a moment, just drinking in the sight of her with her number on her chest, knowing that when Azzi turned from her that she would see her name stretched across her back. 

She smiles at Azzi, and it feels almost unfamiliar, smiling and knowing it’s true and sincere. 

Azzi smiles back, and Paige knows this championship is hers. 

“Azzi! Hold up!” Azzi freezes in place, recognizing that voice. She rubs a hand over her forehead. She almost wants to keep going, just jog down the hallway and right out of the arena. 

Instead, she just takes a deep breath and then another, and turns around. Her traitorous heart still quickens at the sight of Paige Bueckers smiling at her. 

“Hey,” Paige says, voice soft as she runs her eyes down Azzi’s chest, lingering on the purple logo and #35 bold on her chest.

“Hi.” Azzi replies, eyes darting to and from Paige’s face. There have been a few unanswered and clearly drunk texts, from both sides, and a huge bouquet at her doorstep after she had been drafted, but this is the closest they’ve been in nearly a year.

“You kicked our asses huh?” 

It had been Azzi’s first time matching up against the Lynx, but it’s just their luck that Paige hadn’t even been able to play, a hand injury keeping her out of the line up. It had been a hard fought game, with Azzi’s Valkyries coming out on top, but it hadn’t been what Azzi had wanted.

“I missed you out there.” 

It’s the truth. Despite their distance, Azzi has long dreamed of the moment she and Paige would face off in the WNBA, and it was disappointing that it had been delayed like so many of their on the court moments. 

Paige gives her that crooked smile. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Every emotion floods through Azzi at that moment. Anger, sadness, joy, hope, love. This is what she’d wanted. Just her and Paige and the game they loved so much.  

But then she remembers why she’s been miserable for nearly an entire year despite achieving her biggest dreams. She remembers why she hasn’t been able to share her proudest moments with the person she loves the most. 

“What do you want, Paige?” 

Paige steps closer, until they’re within arms reach. 

“I just- I had to talk to you; tell you how happy I am for you.” 

Azzi feels herself softening, like she always has around Paige. 

“Thank you.” Somehow the hallway seems quiet, even though Azzi knows there are thousands of people beyond these walls. 

“I-” 

Paige is interrupted when a voice calls down the hall for Azzi. The team’s PR person is looking for her, and Azzi’s late for media. 

Paige takes a big step back, and Azzi is brought back to that day a year ago, and the heartbreak feels almost as fresh. But she decides then and there that she’s cried enough over Paige Bueckers, and so she just smiles, wistfully. 

“I’ll see you around, Paige,” she says, and then she walks away. 

//

You set the bar, you're gonna stick

“And for the first time since 2017, the Lynx have done it! Minnesota, your Lynx are WNBA Champions once more!” 

The cheers of the fans is near deafening. The Liberty players leave the court in stunned silence as the Lynx players pile on top of each other with joy. 

Azzi whoops, voice hoarse from hours of non stop cheering. She knows it might be a bad look, as a member of another team, to be this excited, but she can’t help it.

Suddenly there’s a loud swell of noise, and the crowd on the court parts. Paige is pushing her way through the throng of people, and a mob of cameras is following her. She finally makes her way to where Azzi is standing, a few rows up from the court. 

She smiles at the fans, who all clamor for her attention, but Paige is on a mission. She pushes her way through the crowd, ignoring how the team’s security is nearly begging her to come back down. 

“Paige! What are you doing?”

“I did it!” Paige beams, blue eyes brimming with joyful tears.

Azzi throws her arms around her, barely registering the noise around them.

“I love you!” Paige cups her hand around Azzi’s ear as she speaks, and Azzi feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. 

“What?” Azzi laughs, in disbelief. “Paige, you just won a championship! They’re about to announce you as Finals MVP.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Paige pulls back and presses their foreheads together. “All of this is empty without you with me.” 

Cameras flash all around them. The entire world is watching, and Azzi knows that this is impulsive and that they have so much they need to talk about, but in this moment, it feels like they’re just kids again, sitting atop a creaky ferris wheel with their whole future ahead of them. 

This time, Azzi leans in first, lets Paige decide. 

This time, she doesn’t hesitate. 

[mommyslittlebird]

Her Special Girl

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

After being away at college for three years, you finally come home for the holidays. And no one is more excited to see you than your stepmom.

CW: Stepmom/Stepdaughter, MOMMY ISSUES, slight daddy issues, mommy kink, cheating, breastfeeding, fingering (R receiving), mentions of strap usage, flashbacks, mentions of past: suicidal thoughts, loss of virginity, ghosting

Word Count: ~5k

A/N: I think if I keep this up, they’re going to revoke my degree in psychology and bury me for defending psychosexual development.

A/N: The fic that started it all. I'm getting nostaligic reuploading this one.

Part 1 of Her Special Girl

She knew something was wrong when you had called her to pick you from your mom’s house a week early. You weren’t supposed to be coming home till Christmas Eve, but here you were, curled up in her passenger seat only three days after being home for Christmas break. 

Wanda wasn’t supposed to be the one picking you up. You originally called your father, but he was, unsurprisingly, unavailable. Apparently he was off playing ‘not the world’s worst stepdad’ with Wanda’s boys for the week. Probably some bonding time enforced by Wanda. He was never terribly keen on spending time with his family. Plus it got the miserable old man out of her hair for a few days. Merry Christmas to Wanda.  

“Mom’s house was that bad, huh?” she asked. You simply nodded in response. She made a sympathetic noise and rubbed the back of your head. “I’m sorry sweetheart. We’ll talk about it when we get home?” 

You nodded again, thankful she wasn’t going to fill the car with awkward small talk. You reached for the radio, turning up the quiet christmas music. You rested your head against your knees, absently humming the familiar music to soothe yourself. You didn’t notice the way Wanda’s heart absolutely melted everytime she got a glance at you. As much as it broke her heart that you’d had a bad experience at your mother’s house, she was glad to have you home for Christmas. 

—------

Wanda and your father had married when you were around 16. In the first years, you weren’t close. In fact, you had hated Wanda at first. The kindness and gentleness she offered you was so alien and unfamiliar. Everytime she did you a favor without being asked, or made a move to give you physical reassurance, you felt like your inside would turn to mush. By that point, you were old enough to decide when you wanted to go to your dad’s house, and it felt easier to avoid her entirely than confront the gnawing feeling in your chest that arose whenever you interacted with her. So you spent those years at your mom’s house.

But as time passed, something shifted. 

In what was supposed to be your last semester of high school, it became pretty clear you were not going to pass. Your life, the one you had planned for at least, fell into a tailspin. You watched all of your friends move on without you. Both of your parents were extremely disappointed with you and seemed to give up on you in favor of the new families they’d created. All of your hopes and dreams of finally escaping to college were put on hold. You had completely lost all direction. 

And one night in late July, when there was no school to look forward to in August and no hope of starting a life of your own without a high school diploma, you hit rock bottom. You were lying down in the shower at your dad’s house and you found yourself unable to get up. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t do it anymore. And just when you thought your body would decay into the blue tile, you heard a knock at the door.

“Honey? Are you okay in there?” 

It was Wanda. You wanted to yell that you were fine and you'd be out in a minute, but you couldn’t get the words out of your mouth. So you didn’t respond. 

You heard the sound of a key pressing into the lock, and the hesitant steps of your stepmother making her way into the bathroom. “Honey?” she called again. She gasped when she found your limp body in the shower. She threw the glass door open, turned off the shower that had long since gone cold, and wrapped you up in a towel. You were too far gone to be embarrassed that your stepmother was seeing you naked at 18 years old. All you could do was throw your arms around her and sob and babble apologies. 

“Oh! My sweet girl. How long have you been in here? I just woke up to use the restroom and I heard the water still running. You poor thing, have you been in here all night? You’re freezing. Your poor lips are purple! Come on, let's get you warmed up.”

With impressive strength, she was able to pick you up and carry you to bed. She threw all of your softest blankets around you cocooning you with warmth on all sides. Then she sat on the bed next to you, wiping the cold wet hair from your forehead. 

And for once, you were too weak to push her away. Too weak to fight the magnetic draw you had always had towards the woman. You needed her more than anything in the world. You wanted to be surrounded by her. You craved an impossible closeness with her. The hole in your heart had grown so big it nearly devoured you, and she was here to patch it up and kiss it all better.

So you melted into her touch, inching your body closer to where she sat on the bed until you were wrapped around her. You almost expected her to inquire as to where this was coming from, the sudden closeness after avoiding her for so long. You thought maybe she would even reprimand you for your childish behavior, or call you weird for acting like this with her. But she didn’t. “Aww my sweet girl. You’ll be alright. I’m not going anywhere. Mama’s here.”

And she didn’t call you weird when you tugged on her nightshirt, silently asking her to lay down with you. She simply crawled under the covers, kissed your head, and pulled your still naked body into her arms. “You poor thing, you're still freezing. It’s okay, mama will keep warm.”

And she didn’t reprimand you when you decided there was still too much separation, so you pulled her nightshirt up over her head, leaving her bare in bed with you. “Mmm, you’re right this will get you all nice and warmed up. You're a very smart girl.”

“I love you, mama.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

She tangled her body into yours, enveloping you in the warmest embrace. Her skin was so incredibly soft against your, pressed into every inch of your body. You could feel the way her heart overflowed with contented joy with you between her arms. 

And nothing was ever the same after that. In the span of twenty minutes with her, you’d gone from believing you could die on the shower floor and no one would care, to feeling like the single most important thing in her entire world. You were hers. 

And you were hers when she gave you your first kiss over an episode of “Legend of Korra.” You’d been so over eager, it’d felt like you were trying to eat her face, but she didn’t make fun of you. She just calmly pulled back, giving you all the instructions you needed to make your second kiss perfect. 

And you were hers when she took your virginity while your father was away on a business trip. She had laid you out on the bed, kissing slow trails down your stomach while you gasped and shuttered at every new sensation. That first night, she treated you like you were made of the finest glass, beautiful and delicate. 

And you were hers when she cried into your arms, begging you not to go so far away for college. With her help, you’d finally gotten a high school diploma. You had the funding from your father to go anywhere you wanted. She wanted to want you to go, she really did. She wanted to want whatever was best for you, but she wasn’t ready to let go of you yet. 

But when you packed your bags and left anyway, you couldn’t be hers any longer. There were no phone calls, no texts, no apologies or explanations for why you left. You were simply gone like you’d never existed in the first place.  

—------

“So,” she asked, helping you carry in your luggage and dropping it in the foyer, “do you wanna talk about what happened with your mother?” She knew you and your mother had never gotten along. She was honestly more wondering why you even decided to go home in the first place. You had spent Christmases with your friends since you’d left for college, but this year you had inexplicably decided to come home. 

You shrugged. “Same as always, I guess. There’s never been a group of people I’m so palpably unimportant to. She and my stepdad have a family of their own, ya know? And I’m just… not part of it. Every time I’m there I feel like a ghost haunting a happy family.” Tears welled up in your eyes, falling down your cheeks. 

“Oh, honey,” Wanda sighed, cupping your cheek with her hand. You only cried harder at the gesture. It was so kind. So gentle. So familiar. You fought your every instinct to not throw yourself against, clinging to her like a petulant child. You wanted to be close to her again.  

The look in her eyes made you feel like you were going to explode. She was listening to you, like actually listening to you. You couldn’t help but pour your heart out to her. “I don’t even know why I tried to come home this year. I just had this idea that I was gonna come home after being gone for so long and she was going to have magically changed. I just had this, like… fantasy that she’d wrap her arms around me and apologize for not being there for me, say that all this time away has made her realize that she can’t live without me, tell me how I’m her most special little girl and she’ll do anything to make it right.”

You turned away from her, suddenly very embarrassed of all the things you’d just confessed. “It was stupid. Whatever. It’s never been like that and it’s never going to be like that. I’m fucking 22, I wasn’t going to be mommy’s little princess anyway.” You felt the urge to run away. You couldn’t bear to look at your stepmother’s face any longer. You made a quick break for the stairs, but Wanda caught your wrist.

“Honey, wait!” she said, pulling you back around to face her. Your head spun and your skin tingled when she touched you. “You know you're still my special girl, right?” 

“Of course, but you have your boys and they’re your whole world. And that’s a good thing! They’re really lucky to have you, I just…” You trailed off, unsure of what to say next. 

“You just?” she asked after you didn’t speak for a minute. 

Another torrent of tears stung your eyes. “I can’t be your special girl. I’m not even really yours.”

Wanda tilted her head in confusion. “What do you mean by that, honey?”

“I’m not your baby,” you said, choked up by your failed attempt to not let your tears fall. You ducked your head, avoiding her gaze at all cost.

She took a step towards you. “Hey,” she started, reaching for your chin to make you look at her. “I’ve missed you, you know? While you’ve been gone.”

“You did?” you asked in almost a whisper. 

“I did,” she reassured. “I thought about you all the time. I never let your father get rid of your bedroom, even though he wanted to move his office there. And there’s still a chair at the end of the dining table for you. And in the winter time I always buy that peppermint creamer for my coffee because it was always your favorite.”

Your resolve finally crumbled and you threw yourself around her, clinging to her desperately. “I missed you too, mama. I wanted to come home to see you, but I didn’t think you’d ever wanna see me again. After I… I thought you’d hate me forever!” you were sobbing in her arms, head tucked under her chin as her long nails scratched your scalp, just how you like. 

“Shh, baby it’s okay. I could never hate you. You’re home now. Mama’s got you,” she cooed. “Let’s get you a nice warm bath, get you all cleaned up, and then we can watch a movie in my room. Does that sound good?”

You nodded, reluctantly removing yourself from her. She reached out for your hand and smiled when you grabbed her arm with both hands, clinging to her awkwardly as you made your way up the steps. She led you to the master bathroom that had a fancy corner tub. She ran the water, checking the temperature to make sure the water was just right. 

“Alright pretty girl, arms up,” she said, lifting the hem of your shirt over your head. She neatly folded your shirt and placed it on the counter. She turned around to find you with your arms bashfully crossed over your chest. She took your hand. “None of that, sweet girl. It’s just you and mama, you don’t need to cover yourself.”

“‘s cold,” you mumbled, goosebumps rising across your chest.

“I know,” she said, bending down to unbutton your pants and push them down around your ankles. You wrapped your arms around her neck, using her for balance as you kicked out of your pants. “We’re gonna have you all warmed up in just a second, sweetheart.”

As soon as you were naked, you scrambled over to the warm tub. Steam was rising from the water’s surface where it met the cool air. You hissed as your cold feet met the water. Wanda giggled at your eagerness, folding your pants and underwear and placing them on top of your shirt. “Careful, pretty girl,” she chuckled. 

You sank into the tub, slowly allowing your body to adjust to the temperature. You sighed in contentment, resting your head back against the ledge of the tub. You rolled your head to the side to face Wanda, who had stripped off her jeans, leaving her in a long gray sweater that barely covered her ass. Your eyes glimmered at the sight of the beautiful woman. “Will you get in with me?” you asked. “Please?”

“Not tonight, honey,” she said, sitting down on the ledge of the tub behind your head. She stuck her feet into the water on either side of you, leaving your head between her bare thighs. “Mama’s already had her bath. Now keep your head tilted back for me. I don’t wanna get any soap in your eyes.” Any protests you had were quickly cut short when you felt long fingers massaging your favorite coconut shampoo in your hair. Wanda worked cautiously, careful not to get any soap in your eyes. She somehow managed to keep your face almost entirely dry throughout the entire process. 

You nearly started to cry when she started applying soap to your body with a soft washcloth. It had been so long since someone had touched you so gently. You could feel how much she cared for you as she softly scrubbed the day's grime from your body. Each caress left trails of goosebumps rising on your soapy skin. You felt like you might melt into the bathwater. 

“Alright little love, kneel up nice and straight for me so I can get you all clean,” she calmly commanded. You hesitantly got up on your knees and turned to face her, reluctant to pull your body from the warmth of the water. Now that you were looking up at her, you felt suddenly exposed again. It was much easier to be naked in front of her with your back turned. 

You took in a sharp inhale when the washcloth landed between your legs. “Mama…” you whined, looking up at her with worried eyes. Her touch felt so good you couldn’t help but buck against the cloth while a knot still coiled in the pit of your stomach. You had the fleeing thought that you should tell her to stop and that this was wrong. But as she continued her ministrations, your head seemed to empty itself of any such thoughts. All you could focus on was the growing sensation between your legs. 

“Aww, sweet girl,” Wanda cooed. “It’s okay that you like it when you like it when mama touches you like this honey. You don't have to be embarrassed, angel.” She made slow, teasing circles around your clit through the thick cloth. You grabbed her arm, keeping her in place until she finally had had enough of the teasing and gently freed herself of your grip. 

“Mama,” you whined again as she continued to wash down the curve of your ass and the inside of your thighs. You weren’t sure why, exactly, you found yourself chanting her name, but it seemed to be the only word you could find. 

She smiled. “You’re okay, angel. Mama got you. I love you so very much, sweetheart. I’m gonna take care of you, just like I used to. There’s no need to be embarrassed or guilty or scared. You’re still your mama’s special girl, okay?” She leaned down to kiss your forehead. You closed your eyes and allowed her complete control over your body.  “We’re all finished, detka. You can sit back down now.” She guided you back down into the water, turning you back around and resting your head against her inner thigh. She gently started to dry your hair as you settled back into the water. You found yourself wrapping your arms around her calf, clutching at her like she might fly away.

“Mama?” 

“Yes, little love?”

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“How do you mean, angel?” Her voice was laced with concern. You weren’t exactly sure how to respond, so you nuzzled your face into her thigh in embarrassment. “Hey little love.” She bent down so she could see your face. “It’s okay. You can tell mama. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

You shifted around uncomfortably, unsure of how to phrase what you wanted to say. “I need you really badly mama,” you said, barely above a whisper. “I know I’m too old, but I wanna be your special little girl forever.” 

“Oh honey,” she soothed, “you’re never too old to be my special little girl. Even if you wanted me to take care of you forever, I’d love every second of it.” She laid back against the wall, closing her eyes and allowing herself to fantasize about what it would be like to have you back. Forever, this time. A faint smile painted her face at the thought. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re too old to need your mama. They might not understand it like you do, but you are a very very special girl and your mama loves you very very much.”

You nodded against her, shyly tucking your face back into her thigh. You sat like that for a minute, letting her fingers scratch your damp scalp while you smiled in contentment. 

But you could only rest naked between her bare legs for so long before the little pings of arousal took over. You turned around to face her, this time straddling a single one of her legs between two of your own. You sat back on your feet, resting your head on her knee. 

“Mama, please. I need to feel you again,” you sighed. You desperately craved the feeling of closeness you’d once shared. The feeling that you and her were the only two people in the world, and that you were as important to her as she was to you, and that was the only thing that mattered. 

You wanted her inside of you, touching all the parts of you no one else got to see. You yearned for the way she made you feel like the most precious thing in the universe, chasing your pleasure like it was her own. She felt good when you felt good. 

Conversely, you wanted to be inside of her, pushing into her like a puzzle piece that had always meant to fit together. You felt like you could rewrite time, finally inside your mama like you were supposed to be all along. 

She reached down beside the tub and pulled up a fluffy pink towel. She stretched it out with her arms, welcoming you into a soft embrace. She took such care in drying off every part of you, down to your calves that still stayed in the water. 

You sat in between her legs, her arms wrapped around your bare body. She pulled you close to her, your back flush against her chest. Then she wrapped her legs around yours, effectively pinning them open against the wall of the tub. 

You pulled at the sleeves of her sweater, desperate to get closer to her. There was still too much fabric between the two of your bodies. 

She shushed you pleas with gentle hands. “Not right now, detka. Let mama show you how much she’s missed you, okay? Then we can cuddle up all naked under the soft blankets on the bed just how we like to. Does that sound okay?”

You let out a displeased whine. You were extremely impatient. It had been years since you’d had her so close. But as she stroked your hair with one hand and your clit with the other, you found yourself more amenable to suggestions. “P-promise?”

“I promise, sweetheart,” she reassured. 

She kept her pace just steady enough that talking, and thinking for that matter, became difficult. “A-and we stay like that all-all night?”

“All night, angel.”

You finally nodded in agreement, relaxing against her. You kept a ironclad grip on her bicep, feeling the muscles flex as she played with your most sensitive parts. 

She moved her fingers down through your folds, teasing your entrance. You tried to force your hips down onto her fingers, but her legs kept you from moving. You settled instead for whining like an injured puppy. “Please mama, please.”

“Mmm,” she hummed in your ear, circling your entrance with the tip of her finger. “I’m so lucky. I get to have my most special girl and all her most special parts,” she sunk her middle finger into you, eliciting a mangled groan, “all to myself.” 

“All yours,” you assured, feeling her finger curl and twist inside of you, making room for more. She was always so calculated with the way she pleased you. You were like a present she was methodically unwrapping, peeling each piece of tape off, careful not to damage the paper. She was in no rush to tear you apart. She kept her painfully slow pace, but sunk a second finger into you. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head. “I’m all yours, mama.” 

She leaned your head back onto her shoulder and kissed your cheek. You didn’t even notice the uncomfortable strain the position should’ve caused your neck. There was just her everywhere, caressing each part of your body with a tenderness you’d never experienced anywhere else. Her hand explored your chest, teasing hard nipples with gentle pinches and soft touches. Nails scraped their way down the soft expanse of your stomach, paying special attention to the curve of your hip bone.

“Mama, I love you. You feel so good inside of me, please don’t stop. Oh god please never stop,” you whined. You didn’t even care that she was moving her fingers too slow to make you cum. You were so content with just her filling you up, touching the parts of you no one else got to touch. You got to be hers all over again.

You thought back to your days with her, home alone. She’d let you sit on her lap in her office, arms and legs wrapped around her like a koala bear, her strap nestled inside of you. She was always so impressed by your ability to stay still for hours on end. But how could you want for anything more than to be full of her?

“You’re so tight and warm for mama,” she cooed. “I love feeling you around my fingers, baby. You make such pretty noises.” She sped up her movements, highlighting the sound of the wetness between your legs. You were nearly dripping a trail down the side of the tub. 

You tried to buck against her hand, but her legs kept you perfectly still. “Ooh mama. I love you. I love you mama,” you cried, unable to escape the building pleasure of her fingers. She slipped a third finger inside of you, only further spurring your desperate cries. “Please mama!  Please, I'm so full. Mama I wanna cum for you. I wanna cum on your fingers. Please! Please let me cum on your fingers.” 

Her fingers twisted and curled in all the ways that drove you crazy. You knew you couldn’t cum until she touched your clit, which she was tactfully avoiding for that exact reason, but you still felt nearly out of your mind with pleasure. You were jerking against her now, causing her to wrap her arms around your waist. “Calm down honey. Mama’s got you. You’re doing so good for me sweet girl.”

“Good girl for mama,” you mumbled brainlessly. The continuous pounding of her fingers made your head spin. There was nothing in the whole world but you and your mama. Nothing else mattered. 

“That’s right, angel. You’re mama’s good girl,” she praised. 

You nodded dumbly, unable to muster any more thoughts than “mama” which you chanted repeatedly. She shoved three fingers in your mouth, making the word come out even more unintelligible. You whined around her hand, but obediently sucked her fingers. 

“Can you touch yourself for me princess?” She asked, both her hands too occupied to finally put an end to your abuse. You both knew that just a little pressure to your clit would finally push you over the edge. 

You didn’t even acknowledge her question, just hopelessly cried around her fingers. “Aww sweet girl, you need mama to do it for you? That’s okay, honey. Mama will take care of it.” She pulled her fingers from your mouth, now covered in your spit, and reached down between your legs. She kissed the side of your head while she finally attended to your neglected clit. “That’s it, princess. Cum on mama’s hand.”

You were nearly silent as you fell over the edge, unable to do little more than jerk and squeak. She gently led you down from the high, removing her fingers and bracing you against herself so you didn’t tumble back into the now cold bathtub. She cleaned you up with a washcloth and wrapped you back up in the soft towel. 

She chuckled when she picked you up and saw your face, blissed out and stupid. She thought back to before you had left for college, when you were 18 and it took a lot more than three fingers and 20 minutes to get you here. “Nobody has touched you like that for a long time, have they angel?”

You shook your head against her chest. “Only you mama.” 

She smiled at the admission. Laying you down at the center of her big bed. You pawed at her sweater when she pulled away. “I’m just taking this off. I’ll be down there in just a second.”

She crawled under the covers only a moment later, pulling you closer and discarding the towel onto the floor. You nuzzled into her neck, wrapping your arms around her waist. You were so warm and so loved. You felt so important again, just like you did the fateful night she’d pulled you from the cold shower. In that moment, you couldn’t wrap your head around why you’d ever left. How could you ever have left anything so perfect?

“Mama, can I be inside of you next time?” You mumbled into her chest, unwilling to completely separate yourself from her. 

“Of course you can,” she replied, pulling you in to kiss your forehead. “Anything for my special girl.”

You smiled. “Can I use the dark red toy? The one that gives you the little bump right here?” You touched her lower stomach in indication. 

She couldn’t help but laugh at the request, recalling the only other time she allowed you to use that toy right before you left. Seeing the bulge in her lower stomach had gotten you so excited you’d pathetically rutted into like a teenage boy. “Only if you can be gentle with mama.”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Gentle with mama.” 

She smiled down at you, noticing your eyelids start to droop. “That’s enough for tonight, little love. Rest now and we can talk some more in the morning, okay?” She gently guided your head down to her chest. She smiled when you almost immediately took her nipple into your mouth, suckling contentedly, just like she’d taught you to do. Oh, how she loved you.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift off into a daydream. Maybe she could convince you to move schools so you could come back, live at home with her. Every stressful assignment or class or situation with your friends could end like this: in this intimate act that drowned out both your stress and hers. Maybe if you’d stay, she could get on hormones and start actually producing milk again. All for you. All for her baby girl. And she'd remind you how loved you were everyday, and you never take her for granted again. 

Yes, she’ll have you back in her arms just like it used to be. You’ll come home to her, and you’ll finally see that you’ll never need anyone else ever again.

[gladiatorcunt]

- JOYRIDE / VIII.

i drink the honey inside your hive

cw: kinktober prompt (daddy kink), southern florist president’s secret child!reader x secret service agent!toji, reader has a vagina, tits used to refer to your chest, age gap (toji is 47 and reader’s early-mid 20’s), dad bf type shit, willing to expand on this, hints of political intrigue and fictional plots, toji x your mom mention, implied and eventual betrayal (not of reader), typical politician behavior, parental neglect & it’s consequences, anal & lack of proper anal prep, dirty talk, light pet play, arguable one sided incest role play & possible actual incest, plus sized!reader, gun play mention, underlying mental health issues, mention of itafushi, flower language, dead dove do not eat

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“There. After nearly breaking my back, the seeds are all planted, finally.”

You'd like to be buried under this magnolia tree, it would be a pretty funeral. Black outfits against the white backdrop of rare winter snow. You have big dreams for this sapling, clearly, as unassuming and drab as it appears freshly planted in the soil of your garden. The ones you’re mom took care of are all gone, maybe they got up and walked after her to somewhere on the horizon. If it doesn’t get so hot the state gets put under another burn ban next summer, this little thing should grow into a beautiful thing that obviously showcases how not depressed you are.

Could a depressed person cope with grief by growing a new life? Well, you wouldn’t know, coping isn’t on your to-do list for a long time if ever. What’s the point of getting better when you’re just going to feel bad again?

Whatever, you shake your head and head back into the shop, you have bills to pay and moping around won’t do anything to help with them. Since you live in a pretty small town, it’s a slow day like always. That is until a tough looking man steps in through the door, opening it and making the bell ding.

His loud sports car is still on and roaring outside, a bright yellow Alfa Romeo 4C.

The man notices your wandering eye and smirks, “You like it, doll? Didn’t take you for someone who’d be interested in cars.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s cool. Must have cost you a lot.”

“Nah. I bought it off one of my buddies at work, fixed it up myself. Well, me and my son’s boyfriend that is. You lookin’ to get somethin’ like that for yourself?”

You’re not really on the market for one, no, because it’s loud as hell and practically rumbling in your ear. You rub it off and ask him what he wants, forgetting some of your politeness, but this man doesn’t seem like he’d care if you spit in his face and kicked him in the balls.

“I’m not from around here.” He rasps and adjusts his sunglasses, leaning one heavy arm on the counter and cocking his hip out, “DC, actually. I’m lookin’ for somebody. You could call it confidential business.”

You hum and narrow your eyes, “Unless that confidential business involves a funeral or getting out of the doghouse with somebody, I can’t help you.”

Suddenly you remember your mother telling you about a big shot politician that knocked her up with you, how he hid you both away when she told him she was pregnant. Your mother was down on her luck 16 year old diner girl, and apparently the politician knew all too well how to use and discard her. The money was enough for your mom to give up her dreams and keep you in this town. When you’ve lived so long without what you think you should, you’re fine to obsessively make sure you never go without again.

He’s the president now anyway, even more reason to make sure you’re the bug that stays squashed under the rock.

The man with the mouth scar notices and decides to drop the act, sighing and taking out his gun. He doesn’t shoot you, just scratches underneath his chin with the puzzle and pointedly makes eye contact with you.

“Okay, let’s cut the shit. My name’s Toji Fushiguro, and I know that you’re who I'm after just as much as you know why i’m here, so why don’t ya just appreciate that y’r old man wants you back and come with me?”

You grit your teeth but you know there’s only one way this interaction is going to end is with you getting in the passenger seat of this nutjob’s car. He watches you shut everything off in the shop and leave a message for the only other employee, asking them to take over until you can come back. He’s a gigantic wolf, tall and silent in the corner, keeping his eyes constantly on his prey. Toji’s never let a bunny or prickly house cat out of his sight in his entire career, but in his current line of work it’s at least legal. Essentially.

“Pretty flowers ya got here.” He says, prolonging your unease. “Maybe his office could use some of these, dull ass beige box that it is.”

Your lips quirk up despite the awful situation, “Yeah I guess. The camellias are new, but hellebores are my favorites, I think. Not many people are into flowers this time of year, but I don’t have anything else to do.”

Toji nods, leading you out of the shop with a hand at the small of your back and oddly content to let you stress babble.

“I’m nowhere near good enough to do arrangements for the White House anyway, regardless of who’s sitting all cozy in it.” You spit and bite one of your nails, nipping at a piece of a hangnail. “Probably’d just throw some buttercups, yellow carnations, orange lillies on the floor, a bit of aconite in there too.”

You know that the agent corralling you into his car doesn’t have a damn clue what you’re talking about, but he seems at ease the more you relax into the leather car seat.

You make yourself fall asleep when he puts the car into drive and speeds down the street.

You’ve been in DC for about a week now, without ever actually meeting your dad of course but you’ve met plenty of his staff after Toji introduced you. He’s a secret service agent, who was given the special task of watching over the president’s only child, you can tell he’s not that happy about it.

Probably not as much action as there’d be in his usual position, you’re very willing to go with their plans of you laying low and staying inside most of the time. You’re still so confused, none of this makes any sense at all. You’ve lived your whole life without being involved in any of this but it’s only when your mother’s dead and your father can’t ignore you anymore that he wants to claim you?

It’s all another move in the game towards the re-election. At least he’s a better president than a father, but that’s not by much. Promises to address climate change and the country’s oil dependance getting pushed to the side, worsening class issues and trickle down economics, putting up more anti-homeless measures. You wish you felt like you could leave, but the tiny sliver of hope that by some weird miracle you could do something keeps you from being bold.

There’s nothing you could actually do anyway, you’re never going to be a part of the groups that their agendas support. You’ll always be the small town reject who saw meth addicts at the local gas station more than your own father.

You and Toji have gotten closer, by necessity and the sheer oddity of being polar opposites. You’re both equally as prickly though in different ways, birds of a molted feather. He’s there when you wake up, there during your mundane day, and there outside your door when you go to sleep. Even if you wouldn’t have liked your “bodyguard”, and you’re not sure you do, the distance between the two of you decreasing was inevitable.

He delivers you food, opens your jars, fixes the pipes in your penthouse, drives you everywhere you want to go in the city, carries your books for you in a bookstore, kneels down beside you in the dirt so he can help you with weeding out your garden, and keeps an itemized list of period supplies and your favorite things.

Your favorite minor holiday is national cherry day, he puts a reminder on his phone with the help of his son to always stop by the supermarket and get you some.

You feel like Whitney Houston right now, and if late at night you listen to her albums more than your mom did growing up, fantasizing about a 40+ year old man who treats you like a bug he has to keep alive, then no one has to know.

But no other man’s gonna do

So i’m saving all my love for you

You also think he’s going to assassinate your father. Sometimes you’ll hear hushed whispers late at night between Toji and someone on the phone, he’ll break protocol and leave you alone to duck into another person’s office and end up leaving with a grim look on his face.

You’ve seen the logs he keeps of your father’s whereabouts, which he should have anyway. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but you get the most awful storm in your gut when you see them under a gun that’s never been fired, like it has a special purpose.

You only speak to your father briefly, tense hellos and goodbyes exchanged over the bridge of a too tight handshake. You immediately expressed your distaste for being involved in his political career and he accepted that, letting you galavant on your merry way around town with his most dangerous agent. Ahead of Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Nanami Kento, and Sukuna Ryomen, your father’s closest gaggle of hyenas.

You call them that because you could easily imagine drool dripping from their jowls if they felt so inclined to attack, to devour.

They give Toji their own versions of the same look when you pass them in the halls or they need to meet to give security updates, watching and waiting.

They only give you smiles, of every shape and size.

It’s easy to get a closer look at what your father does, the lives he ruins. Peace can only be an option for so long before other courses of action have to be considered. You don’t know Toji’s motives, this could just be another murder for hire paid for by one of your father’s political rivals. You doubt his heart is that deeply invested in those sorts of things, he’s made himself too apathetic, but you can tell that he still cared a little bit. He told you once that he’s had children who grew up starving before he got the job he has now.

They’re your age now, but he’d still do anything to keep it, to support them.

And then you think that maybe someone who’s only ever been abandoned knows what it’s like to hoard any good thing you can get your grubby hands on.

You give him own little bouquet of flowers one day, half because you’re going stir crazy as the weeks go by with Toji being all you know and half because you think you do want him to kill your father.

Purple Orchid.

Red Lily.

Red Anemone.

Gloriosa.

Red Delphinium.

Red Clematis.

Genista.

The next day, he’s barking at you to get packed for a stay at one of the out of the state safe houses. Don’t ask questions, protocol means you heed his warning and hop back in that canary yellow mid life crisis status symbol.

The tension was bound to be cut with a knife, the whole ride to the safe house is filled with sideways glances and slipknot blaring from the speakers. You have the same uneasy feeling that you do anytime Toji even hints at something being wrong, but something seems especially wrong this time. It’s not your job to worry about it though, and the older man tells you as much.

“Shut y’r trap, alright? You never have to get your panties in a twist when y’r with me, sorta.”

The safe house is as boring as expected, something out of a kindergartener's drawing. One story cube shaped, small roof, faded brown door.

You're only in the tiny kitchen for a second when Toji locks the door and comes to prop himself up on the counter, licking his scar.

He chuckles, “You’re a lot different than I thought you'd be, ya know that?

“I could say the same about you, I mean not really, but there are things I was surprised by.” You retort and sort through the cabinets, picking what cereal you’re going to stress eat tonight.

He comes around the counter and his hands slide from the tile to grip your waist.

“Yeah? Like what, doll?” Is cooed right in front of your mouth when Toji leans down.

You’re not immune to the proximity, your heart does a factory reset. “I never knew you could be so sweet, Toji.”

You’re not supposed to refer to him by his name, but you can’t let the word you secretly want to say slip out. You’d have to tell the employee back at your flower shop to be ready to claim the insurance policy on it after you go back and set yourself on fire.

But God, the miserable man looming over your bunny-tense figure really is sweet, distantly warm in the way a generally emotionally unavailable father is. But Toji’s the kind that would actually give you something to hold close to your heart over his long stretches of being absent until months go by and he tries to be better again.

You’re glad Sigmeund Freud isn’t an immortal vampire who would still be around to psychoanalyze you to shreds.

“Sweet to you maybe, ‘cause I have to be.”

“My dad couldn’t care less if you beat me silly.”

“I know.”

He never once said it was your father that compelled him to be as gentle with you as he is. A woman he met decades one, shacking up with an up and coming politician who he didn’t even try and pretend to be better then. They hooked up once and then he met his late wife, but months later the woman from his one night stand swore the baby in her belly wasn’t his. He never asked for a paternity test.

He never will, he’s already enough like your Daddy anyway, there’s no point in getting a confirmation or a denial to what his soul (and his cock) knows is good enough for a rat bastard like him.

You come out of your shame spiral as he splays one of his beefy gigantic hands out on the counter so you don’t get cold when he pushes your head down.

“I’d kill your old man if he kept me from this ass pussy, but it ain’t like he could if he tried.” Toji grunts, pendulous balls slapping your ass like a couple of grapefruits with every rough thrust in your puckered hole.

You gave up on being shy as soon as he clamped a hand around your throat to direct the first kiss you’d share. “Daddy- ngh, you’re gonna break me”.

His hand is so warm, your cheek squishes against the grooves and minor cracks in his skin as your head bobs forward. Despite you already being pressed down into the kitchen counter as much as humanly possible, Toji seems determined to force you to become one with it.

He gropes your thick ass cheeks, watching them bounce and jiggle as his burly hips slam against you continuously. Performance art in its truest form, whiney little baby pushing their hips back to take him even deeper in their fat ass. He didn’t have the means to properly prep you, just spit on his hand and massaged it into your already wet rim and called it a day. No condom either, but he can probably save the pussy job and it's obvious consequences until after your old man’s been made to lie face down in the dirt.

“I like the way your cunt sits under your squishy belly, ‘s pouting, baby. Both you and your pussy are clingy as fuck, huh?” He laughs deeply, reaching the hand that’s not under your face to smack your clit.

Your empty cunt gets wetter at the teasing, clenching around nothing because Toji likes to play pretend that he can be halfway considerate to the poor thing until he can’t. You want it too much right now, when you’re all loopy from his mean pounding in your ass is the moment he’ll regretfully have to pull himself out to sheath his hung length in your chubby pussy.

You moan, thought it gets precariously close to a wail the longer it goes on. “Daddyyyyyyy, oh fuck, shit- ‘m gonna tear.”

Your words end in a squeal of delight, your off the cuff rambling driving Toji to speed up his thrusts to piston his fat cock harder into your ass. Like he almost wants it to tear, your biological daddy gave you some nasty emotional scars, let your real one leave you with a couple physical ones. That’s what good daddies do, they take care of their babies and always give them something to remember them by when they won’t like their ancient relic of a father so much.

“Now don’t get mad at me, but- Oh, fuck- i was gonna kill ya, that was the plan. Take ya back, blow your brains out in front of your dad, make ‘im piss his pants because he knows he’s next.” He smiles knowingly when his hand on your clit feels it throb at his dark thinking-out-loud musings, wishing he could scrunch his fingers all up in your scalp and roughly pet you. “You like it like that, baby bunny? Daddy gets you gooey and syrupy sweet when he touches you, huh? Could just gobble you up whole, bones and all.”

Fuckin’ hell, you’re more precious than diamonds or gold or any loot he could’ve swiped from your old man’s crib. He’ll have to remember to slide his cock between your slick girls later, soap them up in the freestanding bathtub and spill his thick off white load all over them. You’ll lick up what you can but cleaning you up is obviously Daddy’s job, slurping up his own jizz like a wolf smoothing his rowdy pup’s fur down, nuzzling his nose in the valley of your tits and in the crook of your armpits.

“Daddy-” Your mouth gapes, little punched out ‘unh-unh-unh’s fly out of your mouth as your ass ripples. A few of your hairs stick to your forehead and you look over your shoulder, flushed and overwhelmed.

He just said he was going to kill you, you couldn’t even say when he changed his mind if he’s even telling the truth. But all you can focus on is that you really hope no other security personnel arrive at the safe house to check on you, whatever the fuck you’re doing definitely isn’t protocol.

Toji leans forward and scruffs the back of your neck with his canines, nipping the skin and leaving a mark as he slams his hips forward again. His grip on your love handles becomes iron clad and binding, wishing on a shooting star for bruises to form. He plunges in to the hilt with every thrust and gnaws at your sloped shoulder, he’s gonna cum and fill your cute little butt up. Pump your backdoor so full of cump it bulges and trickles down your trembling thighs.

You keen brokenly, floating up and away into his kiss. Which is basically more of an affectionate bite, but his tongue is mapping out your teeth and your cherry chapstick lips glide against his cold weather chapped ones. So it can be technically considered a kiss, but it leaves you reeling, someone just smashed a rock into your face and you’re collapsed on the ground unable to walk it off.

You try to squirm away from the earth shattering pleasure.

“What i’d say about givin’ me a chance, doll? Anyway, you were good as dead until I actually laid eyes on ya. Pretty thing, soft heart with a softer touch, ripe for the picking and left all alone…”

He can feel you getting close, you’re humping back against him like a bunny in heat as his thumb does a frenzied dance on your clit. He slides his big hand up your body to strum your nipples, his soft as a butterfly’s wing touch contrasting deliciously with his diabolically rough strokes.

In the fantasy he coos in your ear and asks if you agree that he did such a good job making this body, didn’t he? He twists his wrist on your pert bud, timing his ministrations with the upwards angled stroke of his cock. Your whimpering, his thick tip hitting the sensitive place you’ve never been able to reach with your fingers or your extra large toys.

“Fill me up, Daddy, please.” You beg, tears streaming down your face and sticking to his hand cushioning you. You turn your head the tiniest bit to wetly smack your lips together, kissing the rugged appendage. “It’s so hungry, I need it, give it up to me already. Not goin’ anywhere.”

Your cock-crazed eyes widen in panic whenever he acts like he’s gonna pull out, allowing you only the tip before grinning and sliding all the way home once again.

“Don’t worry, baby. I fixed it, didn't i? Got you all plugged up and owned doll, would sooner ride the muzzle of Shiu’s gun than kill ya now. Y’r soakin’ my balls so goddamn good.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you-“

Holy fuck, you can’t breathe. You can’t fucking breathe because how can you when all the air in your lungs is beaten out of you by some 47 year olds’s massive cock. The coarseness of his body is so right for you, abrasive where you’re soft and riddled with signs of being battleworn where your body’s only enemy is you. You feel split right down the middle and you’re half afraid that when Toji eventually pulls out, you’ll fall apart and actually become two bleeding halves of a whole fucked out person.

Your clit throbs at the mental image of his hairy swallowing the muzzle of a gun, Toji licks his lips and mercifully lets you reach behind yourself to claw at his rippling muscular glutes as he fucks you. Your ass squeezes his cock in a vice like grip as you shoot your load onto the pale wood laminated floor below. Your ass cheeks jiggle as your hips jump forward, grinding against the air as you get it all out. Riding that lightning off to who knows where.

“Jesus, oh, Jesus- You’re so fucking insane, Jesus Christ!”

At least Daddy will be there, because you’re certain you’re gonna crave keeping him inside and Toji seems like a terrible guy to try to do cockwarming with.

“Shit, baby bunny, this bouncy cottontail is gonna milk me dry, take me for all my money, isn’t that right honey bunny?” His voice is coated with sickenly toe curling condescension.

He roars a guttural groan, his nails forming crescent shaped indents in your hips as he pushes his cock as far as it can go and spurts his hot cum into your ass with a gruff grunt. He can feel your walls spasm around his dick, the sensation hurtles him further over the edge and his hips jerk and the joints begin to creak from the effort.

He’s not the wild and reckless young man who fucked your mother anymore, but you have him all wrong if you think he’s going to roughouse your shit any differently.

When you’ve both calmed down, his salt and pepper stubble gives you beard burn between the fleshy globes, punctuated by a breathless snicker and a barely there peck to your ass hole.

“Sleep in tomorrow, baby bunny” He says abruptly, his tone dropping to become startlingly serious. “I’ll bring back some breakfast for ya, give you a massage. I better come back and find your adorable ass right where I put it to bed, ya hear me?.”

“Yes, Daddy. ‘Said I wasn’t going anywhere.”

He pats your lower back, curling his thick digits around an invisible ball of fur.

[blond3ang3l]

❄️Snowy day with Batkids❄️

(Male reader)

Dick- 17 Jason- 16 Tim-12 Duke & Cass- 10 Steph- 7 Damian-5

———————————————————————

“Get your cold ass hands off me you son of a bitch!”

“No way, not after you had us outside for two hours because you lost the key.”

You shook your head listening to your two step children go back and forth. You had came home to see them in nothing but pajamas outside to your confusion. What made it worse was that it was snowing heavy, at least 4 inches now. You had just came back from food shopping and Bruce was out grabbing other stuff. You two left the oldest two to watch their younger siblings so just how did they end up out here? You unlocked the door and pushed them into the house to warm up.

“Cmon boys. I’m gonna go check on your brothers and sisters. You two try not to kill each other please.”

Your hand went to the back of their heads rubbing it softly before going upstairs to check on the younger five kids. It was the middle of the days so the youngest two Damian and Steph were in their rooms napping. You stepped into the room and your heart practically melted. The two tended to argue about literally nothing but they looked so adorable. The two fell asleep on the floor next to each other after they seemed to have finished painting. They were covered in it and their finished products were on the floor. Steph’s was a picture of the family and Damian’s seemed to be of you, Bruce, and Talia. A small smile came on your face and you picked the two up and laid them in their beds. You’d have to bathe them later but it was so worth it.

Duke was playing quietly with Cass in their shared room. As you stepped in the two kids practically lit up. You were ambushed and tackled to the floor making you groan but chuckle as well.

“I’m glad you guys are happy to see me.”

“Daddy! Is papa Bruce with you? He said he was gonna train me when he got back from the store!”

You smiled at Cass’s eagerness to see and be like her other father. It was adorable how much you guys children adored him.

“No, but he is on his way. Why don’t you get dressed so you’ll be ready when he comes.”

She practically squealed with excitement at your words. Duke was holding on to your leg. You looked down to him and he was smiling up at you. It was damn cute, while bruce had Cass, Damian, Dick and Stephanie you had Duke and Jason who were total daddy boys for you. You pressed your lips to his forehead before letting go back to playing.

That was four now only one was missing. When you heard a sudden crash from the bathroom you knew it was the last one.

“Tim, what are you doing this time?”

He turned around and all you see is him messing with your hair and skin care. The twelve year olds face was covered in your charcoal mask making you shake your head to keep from laughing.

“I uh- I didn’t know you’d be home so soon dad.”

“Uh huh, and you seem to be havin a real good time with my stuff kid.

You wet a rag to wipe the excess away from his eyes to keep it from getting inside them.

“Need to be careful boy. Next time wait for me to help you. Or ask Dick, he knows how to do it without getting messy. And ask before you just touch my stuff, you could have been allergic to something in this”

“My bad dad.”

You hummed in response until you hand sudden thought.

“Wait a minute did you not hear your brothers knocking on the door?”

“Oh no I did. But they wouldn’t let me play the game with them so I ignored it.”

You deadpanned at your son’s words and got ready to scold him when you heard Stephanie’s small voice calling out to you.

“Dada!”

You had a long day ahead of you..

———————————————————————

I’m gonna make a part two probably next week

My Christmas sucked so writing what I want my future to be<3

[sweetimpurity]

c.w.: very smutty, ice cream and sex

The hot sun beats down on your hometown. It’s finally summer and you’re ready for the beach, freedom and romance. You and Miguel have been together since you were both 15. Growing up together, going to school, falling in love and staying in it until now. 18 years old, the two of you. You can’t wait to spend every day with him this summer, and you really can’t wait for those hot summer nights. 

The only thing that gets in the way is summer jobs. If only you two were 10 again and you could spend every minute wasting the day away in the kiddie pool. But now at 18, there are other, better things you two can get up to. 

This summer you’re working at your Dad’s store in town and Miguel is logging in his 3rd consecutive year at Sunny Scoops ice cream. A cute little place by the boardwalk with really good waffle cones and the cutest boy in town behind the register! 

There, Miguel works all day, sweating and smiling, handing out ice cream to little kids, the elderly, families, anyone who’s having a beach day. And any girls who ask for his number, he just tells them to text you and ask for it. That usually prevents them from ever asking again. 

He’s grown muscle over the past three years and ultimately you just had to help him cut the sleeves off his work t-shirt. Complaining about the ‘fit not being right’ on the bigger sizes. 

The uniform he used to wear when he was 15 was pretty horrendous. Pink and blue striped and that goofy ice cream cone hat. Then he turned 16… 17… now 18 and wowza. You’ve watched him grow into a man. Now his arms are showing, his muscles from scooping rock solid ice cream all day long. Toned and extra tan from the summer sun. A bandana wrapped messily in his dark curls to keep the sweat off his forehead. Sometimes you’ll sit there with ice cream melting down your hand and between your fingers because you’re just staring at him moving around behind the little counter and through the little shop. Smiling handsomely to customers, his muscles flexing when he’s scooping the frozen treat, catching his eye and his smile when he sees you watching him. Flustered and flushed pink when he comes back over to talk to you, licking the drips off your knuckles. 

“Your ice cream is melting, baby…” He would coo. Licking his lips of the sweet chocolate melt. “You’re really hot.” You’d sigh, completely in a daze. 

You’re finally done with work now, letting your Dad know you’re leaving for the night. A plan in mind. A need for something sweet. Not just ice cream tonight.  Leaving your Dad’s store at 9:30pm and Sunny Scoops closes at 10. You get in your car, letting the summer night breeze blow in through the windows. The cool down finally here as the sun is set. The night is still warm and sticky but not as blazingly hot as before.

…

“Here you go… have a good night.” You hear his voice as you’re walking up to the window. Watching a little boy and his mother walking away happily with huge ice cream cones in hand. And would you look at that… you’re next in line.

“Hey, gorgeous…” He smiles seeing you, leaning his elbows on the counter and watching you approach the window. “Hey!” You chirp, smiling up at him. “Busy day?” You ask, admiring his tip jar full to the brim. “Yeah, busy but good.” He nods, grabbing a waffle cone and moving around behind the counter. You peer over the edge to look inside. Watching him at the soft serve machine. He knows you so well of course. “Chocolate vanilla twist for the pretty lady…” He announces and hands you a tall swirl of ice cream.

“Come around back, I’m just closing up.” He nods and you take your ice cream, moving to the back of the teeny building to the back door. Walking inside. Like you do most days you come to see him. Miguel slides the window closed, locking it and pulling the wooden panel over to block the window. Locking the place up. 

You hop up to sit on top of the big box freezer, licking the swirl of ice cream in your hand and watching him move some stuff around and close up.

“You wanna go to the beach tomorrow?” You ask, looking over at him with those eyes that make him weak. His eyes watching your pink tongue lick up your ice cream. “Sure.” He answers just softly. Focusing on doing his job before he loses all control. Not just yet. You smile and kick your legs softly. He walks past with a box, grabbing your ankle as you kick your foot up, giving you a look and letting his fingers run up your calf, bringing a smile to your lips, walking away as he finishes clearing the place up, taking the box to the shelves in the back. Coming back after a minute or two. 

“Hey.” He hums, stopping in front of you, a sly sort of smirk on his face. “Hey.” You respond, just as softly, your ice cream only beginning to melt. “You’re so pretty…” He hums as if he hasn’t told you a million times before, making you smile and he steps closer, between your knees. His fingers teasing the sides of your thighs. “Preciosa chica…” He whispers, looking in your eyes and licking the drips off the back of your ice cream cone. Like he always does. Licking all the way to the top of the swirl and then his lips are on yours. His lips moving against yours, his tongue parting your lips. His tongue tasting of chocolate swirl and his lips sugary slippery sweet. His tongue delves into your mouth, his hand going to cup the back of your head, ice cream smashed and mixed between your two tongues. So sweet. Until he’s pulling back, both of you with a slurp. 

You giggle softly, feeling sticky sugar all over your lips. “You want more?” You laugh, raising a brow at him and he grins. You tilt the cone towards his lips. “It’s yours, baby… I wanna see you eat it.” He replies. 

His hands move up under your shirt, tickling your sides as he pulls you closer, sliding you across the freezer top. You smile, bringing the swirl to your lips and licking the melting ice cream, sucking gently and enjoying it, all while staring in his eyes. His hands move under the fabric, fingers moving up your ribcage, your diaphragm, to your breasts. 

“No bra, mami?” He laughs, fingers exploring and kneading the plush of your tits. Staring in your eyes as he does it. “Took it off in the car…” You smile so innocently. He grows harder at the thought. That you took off your bra on the way over here. Like you wanted this to happen, you wanted him. Watching you gasp among the ice cream in your mouth, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples, rolling them gently between his thumb and index fingers. Massaging gently under your shirt. He leans forward, placing three deep kisses to your throat before pulling back again, his fingers grasping the hem of your t-shirt. 

“Can I take this off?” He asks and you nod, mouth full of ice cream. He pushes your shirt up and off, the neon lights of the shop reflecting off your skin, off your breasts, making his mouth water. His arm anchors around your lower back, lips latching onto your breast, licking and sucking and squeezing the other in his hand. “Mmm- miguel…” You sigh, sensitized from his caress. He slurps and smooches your soft skin, the naughty noises filling the small space. The hum of the many fridges and freezers a soothing harmony with your soft moans and the sticky sucking of his lips.  

He pulls back, kissing you a few times, tasting that sweetness on your lips. Keeping one arm around your back and your eyes widened in surprise watching him dip his fingers into the mountain of ice cream in your hand. Picking up dollaps of cold chocolate swirl on his fingers and smearing it over your nipples. Eliciting a sharp gasp from your throat as he does it. Looking down at your chest. He does the same with both sides. “You like that?” Grinning the whole time, holding you tight as you squirm. Freezing coldness hardening the buds until his warm lips come back down to suck the ice cream off. A shuddering and trembling moan leaving you at the feeling. Your free hand going to his hair, tangling in the dark curls. Pulling the bandana off of his head and watching his summer curls bounce free. “Ohhh- Miguel- '' You moan sweetly and he groans against your chest, your sticky sugary nipples sucked and kissed over and over until it's all gone. 

“So sweet baby…” He pants, pulling his shirt off, coming back up to kiss your lips and holding your flushed cheeks in his hands. “Mmm..” You whine, kissing him back hungrily, deeper, your free hand running up his toned abdomen to his chest, a map of his body already ingrained in your brain after all these years, then wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, the ice cream dripping down your knuckles and onto his bare back, making goosebumps on his skin, his big hands running down your back and to your waist. “I don’t have a condom, baby…” He pants against your lips, his fingers in your hair; the words making your tummy flip in butterflies, knowing he wants you; he’s going to be inside. He pulls back for air, desperate to have you as he’s had you many times before.

“I do.” You pant for air, reaching blindly in your back pocket for the one condom you brought. “You really came here just to get fucked, didn’t you?” He laughs and smiles, taking the small foil packet into his sticky fingers. “I came here to see my love…” You hum, tilting your head at him. Not very convincing. His brow cocks in suspicion. “Fine. I came here to get fucked by my love.” You finally admit and the two of you can’t help the giggles. 

Outside the small ice cream shop, cars drive by, peepers peep and crickets chirp. The temperatures go down as the night goes on, but inside the little parlor, things are heating up. 

“Tell me where baby… tell me…” He whispers in your ear, knuckles deep in your heat and you’re barely able to hang onto him. One hand still occupied by the dripping melting ice cream cone. “Right there! Oh right th-there!” You squeal, his thumb moving expertly on your clit and his fingers flicking and curling deep inside. “Oh my god…” You whine, back arching and leaning back so far you almost fall back off the freezer. “Hey… hey… there you go…” He coos, holding you and helping you lay on your back. Limited on space but you make do. His fingers pumping generously into your needy pussy. 

His bottoms are long gone but he takes the condom foil between his teeth, ripping it open carefully. “C’mon baby…” He pants. Taking your free hand and pulling it down to his dick. Guiding you to roll the condom onto his length. Shuddering and groaning feeling the lubed rubber and your soft warm hand pushing it down on him. All while his fingers still curl up against your g spot and you’re on the cusp of coming already. For a few moments, he thrusts into your hand around him. Relishing that pleasure until it’s not enough. 

“Ready, sweet girl?” He steps forward, pulling your hips down to meet him at the edge of the freezer. “Mi corazón…” He whispers, a hand running flat over your tummy. “Mmm… yes please…” You whisper. And when he gets that confirmation, there’s no stopping his gummy tip from kissing your clit, pushing through your slick before slipping down and inside. Like the two of you were made for this. He was made to be with you in this way. You were created to be in love. 

“Haahh…. Baby…” He sighs and shudders, easing himself in with small pulsing thrusts to stretch you out nicely for him. He doesn’t want to hurt his precious girl. Soon he’s pressed to the hilt and your back is arching from that alone. Your trembling legs latching around his waist as he starts his rhythm. Skin slapping skin in the sickly slip of sticky slick. 

Moaning loud and free, the both of you, at the feeling. The feeling of being so full, so filled to the brim. Of love. Of him. The ice cream cone nearly falls out of your hand, your brain unable to think of anything but the pleasure between your legs. One leg wrapped around his hip and the other held in his arm, your knee draped over and his big hand wrapped around your thigh. Keeping you open for him; spread. Pumping into you steady and deep. His heavy eyes watching your face to see how much you love it. His hand on your thigh finds your free hand, lacing his fingers with yours. Panting and focusing. On getting you there. On making you feel the best he possibly can. 

You’re delirious, hazy, a mess of moans and a buzzing burning ache for him. 

“Baby baby-” He grabs your wrist when the ice cream almost slips entirely, holding your wrist and making it stay upright so he doesn’t have to mop the floors. Smiling when he sees your fucked out face. Easing the cone out of your hand so he can hold it. So that it doesn’t splatter on the floor. Letting your hand fall, fingers gripping and clenching around nothing. His thrusts are so deep, so giving, and he’s hitting every little spot that has you melting. 

“That’s it, baby…” He encourages you, trying to bring you that sweet release. “So good Mig…so so sooo…” You whine, on the very edge of bliss. Miguel watches, breathing so fast and heavy. His eyes trail down your face to your soft, marked neck, to your shoulders, your tits, sternum, stomach. Until it’s almost involuntary, he dumps the cold, melting, dripping ice cream cone on your soft tummy. Pulling a high pitched squeal and gasp from your lips, the cold like the spark in a chain reaction, back arching as he drags the freezing smushed chocolate swirl up to your sternum. Your orgasm hits you before another second can think to pass. Your skin shining in melty vanilla and chocolate swirl. The cold making you clench around him. 

Screaming in ecstasy and squeezing him so tight he's doubling over and groaning at the pressure. Thrusts become impossible and all he can do is spurt deep and hot. Filling the condom with a groan and feeling you fluttering around him. He licks a stripe up your sternum, slurping ice cream from your skin. Pressing messy kisses to your chest and his face just drips with the melted sugary substance. Drops and dribbles rolling down your sides as you gush on his dick. Trembling, shaking, coming down from what might be the strongest climax you’ve ever experienced. 

“Oh baby… hah… that was amazing…” He pants, his voice wavering, leaning over you, kissing your cheeks, your neck, your lips. “I love, love you… hah…” He huffs, looking over your face to make sure you’re okay. “Mmm… I love you” You sigh, a blissed out smile on your face. He smiles seeing you’re happy and you’re feeling good; because that’s all he’s ever wanted. And all he’ll ever want.

[herasversion]

Someone older

Summary: As Fernando Alonso's daughter, you finally have the opportunity to watch him race live again after several years. During the event, you encounter a handsome Spanish Ferrari driver.

A/N: no use of Y/N, some spanish

Carlos Sainz x Alonso reader

masterlist

It's not like you meant for it to happen, after all. Admitting it made you feel even a little bit weird. Because how do you explain your attraction to older men? Not that they have to be ancient; a few years older is good enough for you, they just need to have the vibe.

Sadly enough, or actually lucky enough for you, your Papi works with a lot of men that fit that vibe. Not that you would tell your Papi that, because how do you tell your dad, Fernando Alonso, that his Formula 1 job brings you around all these hot men that are your type, and most of them are at least four years older? Not that you're a baby; you're 22. Not that you can tell your Papi that; he would explode.

Either way, you can't blame a girl for looking, especially not at the most handsome Spaniard you've ever seen, Carlos Sainz. But you should probably stop being that oblivious with your looking before you walk by his garage; otherwise, he will realize, but most of all, your Papi will realize.

As I gather up the courage to walk by his garage, I get startled by a voice.

'Princesita, are you coming or not?' There he stands, your most favorite person in the world, your Papi. 'Of course I am coming, Papi!' But you're walking way too fast; the race only starts tomorrow. As you say that, you follow him quickly behind, as you don't know your way around the paddock. The last race you went to with your Papi was at least seven years ago when you were a 16-year-old girl, and your staring problem was way more obvious. Sorry, Mr. Vettel.

Alright, maybe you needed to practice a little bit more because there he stands, the man with the most beautiful brown puppy eyes, accompanied by the most beautiful cocky smirk. But that is not the problem; the problem is that he is talking to your Papi, and you're walking their way.

Princesita, come here. I want you to meet Carlos," your Papi says. As he speaks, you see his head turn to look at you. And yes, you most definitely still have your staring problem. Luckily for you, he seems to have the same problem as he looks you up and down and smirks. He gazes into your eyes with his beautiful brown eyes, and suddenly, you realize he's saying something. "Sorry, what did you say?" you try to laugh it off.

He laughs and says, 'Nice to meet you, hermosa,' as he shakes your hand a little too long for it not to be a little flirty. You're both interrupted by laughter and a deadly glare from your Papi. 'We have to go, Princesita,' he says in a stern voice. I try to keep my giggle inside, but it doesn't work as you follow your Papi to his garage. As I turn around, I notice a certain Ferrari driver still watching you.

Luckily for you, your Papi forgets about it soon enough. I mean, how could he not? Your Papi had a place on the podium today. And even more luckily for you, a certain beautiful Ferrari driver with beautiful brown eyes was also on the podium. That way, no one would notice your staring problem. Well, they probably wouldn't if he didn't keep looking back at me.

As your Papi runs off the podium, he runs to his team and to you to give you a big hug. And that is the moment that you know there will be a great celebration, which you could finally join. Maybe with enough luck, a certain Spanish Ferrari driver could also join; after all, he also has something to celebrate.

As I get ready for the club, I had the trouble of deciding what I should wear. After all, what do you wear to celebrate your Papi's win while still being sexy enough to seduce a certain Spanish Ferrari driver? After I think it is cute enough and my Papi is finally ready to go, we are on our way to the club. As we pull up, I realize that it's already packed, which is great news because that would mean that there are already some drivers inside.

As we walk around, I realize that maybe it isn't that great of news that it's so fully packed, as I already lost my Papi in two minutes with no one else I recognize. I push myself through the crowd, trying to get to the VIP section.

'Everything going alright, hermosa?' As I turn around to the person who whispered that in my ear, I see the most beautiful driver on the track and say, 'Yes, just trying to find Papi.'

He laughs. 'I don't think this is the place where you want to find your Papi.' Suddenly, I get pushed into him and look up into his beautiful eyes. He bends down, looking at my lips, and whispers, 'You want to dance, hermosa?

Before my mouth could even form a response, my head was already nodding yes. He laughs at me and smiles as we keep getting closer. As we dance, I notice him looking at my lips, and I kiss him. At first, he acts surprised until I feel him grin in our kiss and spin me around.

Before I even realized what was happening, we were in his hotel room, and I ended up in his bed. As I wake up to the most beautiful man grinning at me, he says, 'Good morning, hermosa.' I giggle and reply, 'Good morning.' He laughs and gives me a kiss until my phone rings very loudly. I grab it and realize I am in big trouble because I promised my Papi he could drive me home.

[tinylilacbun]

Trying To Protect You

Request: Heyyy girl! J wanna say I love your writing and have a request/suggestion if your interested :)

Being Rafe’s little sister (16 years old) and rafe is quite toxic and overprotective and catches reader hanging out with the pogues and gets really angry and manipulates her into not hanging w themm

Pairing: brother!rafe cameron x sister!reader

Warnings: not proofread, Rafe being overprotective/toxic, manipulation, mentions of stealing/betrayal, Rafe tracking readers phone, weed consumption

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Rafe was pacing in the hall by the front door, impatiently waiting for you to come home. He glances at the clock, noting how you're 30 minutes past your actual curfew.

You've begun to change since you started hanging out with the pogues and Rafe just doesn't understand what has gotten into you, getting all mouthy with him and your dad, coming home late, going to more keg parties and getting drunk, and the worst is that you're becoming too comfortable with JJ.

Rafe wanted to knock some sense into you and the last straw for him was when Wheezie told him that she saw how you helped John B get the scuba gear from the family boat.

He was really trying to be understanding, thinking that your rebelling is just a phase, that you would come back to your senses and realize how bad the pogues are for you but boy...he was so wrong.

Like, testing our boundaries is one thing, stealing and betraying your family is another, and Rafe had enough of your behavior.

Another 30 minutes pass and you're still not home. With a groan, Rafe grabs his keys and phone, opening the tracking app that he secretly installed in your phone for situations like this. He's just protecting you, right?

Tapping onto your contact the red pin appears soon, revealing your location and he storms out of the house to his truck.

Meanwhile, you were chilling in the hammock of the Chateau with JJ laying next to you, using his arm as a pillow as you both share a blunt.

You giggle at something JJ said, your head snapping up when you hear a car door being slammed shut followed by your name being called out loudly, you're rolling your eyes as you see Rafe marching his way over to you.

"Here we go." JJ sighs.

You get up from the hammock, meeting him halfway and notice how he's visibly fuming, his fist clenching at his sides.

"What do you think you're doing here, huh?" He asks, glaring down at you. "You should have been home an hour ago."

"And?" You simply shrug before adding. "You're not my dad."

Rafe clenches his jaw. "No, I'm not dad, but I'm your brother and it's my responsibility to take care of you and protect you. So, you better get your ass in the car or I'll drag you there myself."

You look up at him defiantly for a moment, opening your mouth to protest but couldn't get a word out when Rafe suddenly grabs your upper arm, pulling you with him.

Rafe turns back to face JJ for a second, seething. "If I see any of you pricks near my sister again I swear I'll kill you."

With that he turns back to make his way back to his truck with you stumbling beside him, trying to keep up with his large strides.

"Rafe- stop, you're-" You wince and he just grips your arm tighter as he reaches the passenger side, opening the door he shoves you inside and slams it shut again.

He gets into the driver's side and starts the engine while breathing heavily in anger, glancing at you one last time he starts driving.

The drive to Tannyhill is silent, you being high as a kite and Rafe gripping the steering wheel tightly as he stares ahead at the road.

The car comes to a stop and you're about to get out when the child's lock clicks loudly, turning your head to meet Rafe's judging gaze.

"You're not a pogue, Y/n. You're a kook and you should behave like it." He starts scolding you, ignoring the way you cross your arms with a roll of your eyes. "Listen, you may hate me for the things I do but I'm not the one who steals from his own family and says shit behind your backs. I mean, how could you betray us? Your family, who loves you and cares about you. You act like one of them when you're not. Don't you realize what path you're choosing to go right now?"

"You-" you try to argue but Rafe is having none of that.

"No, zip it. This isn't about me, it's about you. Did you know that Dad is thinking about sending you to Kitty Hawk?" He says, suppressing the smirk when you uncross your arms, your eyes wide. "Yeah, he only didn't already 'cause I talked him out of it. Me, your brother."

Now you look down at your lap, fidgeting with your hands at the mention of your dad actually thinking of sending you away to that camp for troubled teens.

Rafe sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Don't you see that they're a bad influence? You have gotten nothing but problems since getting involved with them. If you keep that shit up it won't take long before you end up in prison or worse."

You start to sniffle, reaching a hand up to wipe the tears of your cheek. "I don't want to go there...I'm sorry, Rafe."

"Then start acting like it, I can't save your ass forever." He states, unlocking the car doors again he climbs out and you follow suit.

You walk behind your brother up to the front door when he spins around to you again, seeing the way you have your arms wrapped around yourself.

"C'mere." He says with a softer tone, pulling you into a hug he smirks at the way you instantly hold onto him. "I got you. I'll always be there to look out for you, sis."

The fact that Ward never even mentioned anything of Kitty Hawk and that Rafe just used that to scare you and get you back in line doesn't has him feeling guilty in the slightest. He's just protecting you after all.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[harunayuuka2060]

MC's stepmother: MC, I told you to clean the bedrooms! What are you still doing there?

MC: Cooking.

MC's stepmother: How dare you answer to me!

MC: 'Cause you're asking.

MC's stepmother: Hmph! Clean the bedrooms! And stop being lazy, you pitiful brat! *walks away*

MC: 'You pitiful brat' *while making a face*

Their father: *walking into the kitchen* *chuckles when he sees them*

Their father: I've heard your mother—

MC: She's not my mother.

Their father: Okay. I've heard my second wife yelling. Don't mind her. She doesn't know any better.

MC: I've got used to it. And I still despise you for marrying again. You should've stayed single.

Their father: Come on. We're not talking about this again.

Their father: Anyway, I have a good news for you. *shows them an invitation letter*

MC: What's that?

Their father: An invitation to enter Night Raven College~! Haha! I knew you would be chosen!

MC: ...

MC: You know I don't have magic.

Their father: You do! It— It hasn't awaken yet, but you do!

MC: I'm 16 years old, Dad! I went to different schools of magic, had undergone trainings to awaken this "magic" which I didn't have.

MC: That invitation must be fake.

Their father: No, it's not! It has the official seal and your name on it!

MC: *looks sternly at him* Did you use your connection?

Their father: *guiltily* No.

MC: Dad—

Their father: You should hurry! The carriage will be arriving any moment! *pushing them out of the kitchen*

MC: How about the food?!

Their father: My second wife will do it! Quick! Quick! Run along! Enjoy your youth!

MC: Seriously?!

Their father: I'm gonna miss you. *sniffles* Don't forget to write!

MC's stepmother: *hands them her credit card* Use that.

MC: I don't need it. I have my own money.

MC's stepmother: Just use it, I'm telling you.

*The carriage has arrived.*

MC's stepmother : That child is claustrophobic. Is it okay if you not ask them to be inside that... *looks creeped out with the "gate"*...thing?

MC: They'll put me to sleep. I won't even know.

MC's stepmother: ...

MC's stepmother: I slipped an axe into your bag.

MC: ...

MC: Are you crazy?

MC's stepmother: What?

Their father: Enjoy your trip! Me and my second wife will be fine here!

MC: *rolls eyes and gets into the gate*

MC: *on their first arrival*

MC: *sigh*

MC: Can I drop on my first day?

Professor Trein: Not possible.

MC: But I don't have magic! And you didn't have to give my dad a refund if that's what you're worried about.

Professor Trein: You might be a late bloomer and we're not giving up on you.

MC: Ugh...

Crowley: Is this our new student? *has approached them*

Professor Trein: Yes.

Crowley: Welcome to Night Raven College. What do you think of our school so far?

MC: Just like any other schools I've been from.

Crowley: *gasped* I don't think I can accept that. Night Raven College is the most prestigious school in all Twisted Wonderland!

MC: There's Royal Sword Academy.

Crowley: They're our rival! *clears throat* We promised to your father that we will awaken your hidden magic. You need to trust us.

MC: You accept nepo-babies. Why would I trust you? *their father is a well-known movie producer*

Crowley: ...

Crowley: Let's go to the Mirror Chamber. Follow me.

MC and Professor Trein: ...

MC: He's not trustworthy.

Professor Trein: I can't disagree with you.

MC: *ends up in Ignihyde*

Idia: ...

MC: ...

Idia: Do you have any questions?

MC: No. I just want to go home.

Idia: Mwehee! Me too. *clears throat* Sorry. No one will bother you in Ignihyde. I can assure you that.

MC: Thanks... I can see that all of you here are minding your own business.

[swtt4hk]

Be mine || Cho Sang-woo x fem!Foreign Reader! (Oneshot) {fluff}

requested by: @sensationallysangwoo

warnings: mentions of suicide

You had recently moved to South Korea from your home country. Things were pretty hard at first and fitting into a completely different country , with different culture and language was a really big step to take in your life. You had moved there to make a new start , meet new people and explore new places after experiencing some traumatic things in your life.

Your past is dark. Your mother abandoned you and your father when you were just a year old and your dad was forced to raise you on his own. Your dad was working multiple jobs to make as much money as he could and still managed to spend a lot of quality time with you. Unfortunately, when you were at the age of 11 he died in a car crash and you were forced to live with your aunt , who wasn’t exactly the best parent. She was a mean person and even though you had told her that you don’t feel comfortable mentioning your parents , she brought them up everytime you fought and told you that you deserved everything you went through. All this caused you to dive into depression and by the age of 14 , you had tried to kill yourself multiple times.

By the time you turned 16 , you moved out and moved in with your best friend , Keira. Moving in with Keira was the best decision you had ever made in your life. She had been your best friend since you were kids and she always had a way to make you smile. When you turned eighteen, Keira moved to another country with her boyfriend which resulted you being alone again. So you decided to take a big step in your life and move to another country. You worked your ass off for a year straight and decided to move to Korea , since you had heard a lot of good things about the country.

Moving there really was a great idea. Sure , it was difficult at first but things have become easier for you except for one thing…the Korean language. You had never been good with learning new things , especially new languages , so you had a pretty tough time communicating with people there. It hurt you a lot not being able to communicate with other Koreans , especially with a specific person…Cho Sang-woo.

You and Sang-woo had met at a cafe which you regularly went to. He is a handsome man , a little bit older than you but still really attractive. He has manners , he is smart and always chooses with words wisely before speaking. He’s everything that you were looking for. You both flirted a lot but it was never something serious , even though you both felt the strong connection between you.

Even though you guys clicked immediately and had a strong bond , the language barrier between you two was frustrating. You often misunderstood what each other said and sometimes you even had to use translating apps to have a conversation.

Sang-woo liked you a lot. From the first time he saw you , sitting on the cafe table , enjoying your coffee and admiring the view , he knew he had to talk to you. It was like something inside him knew he had to be yours. He often tried to give you signs about him liking you but you either took it as a joke or didn’t understand what he had tried to say. But he still tried. He even started taking lessons on your native language to manage to get you to understand that he loves you and wants you to officially be his.

After weeks of practicing, we woke up and decided it was time. He was going to confess his feelings to you. He was a 100% that he was ready to take that big step into your guys’ relationship. He invited you over to his place to “hang out” and you happily agreed to do it.

Clueless about what was going to happen , you wore a new skirt that you got , a sparkly top and high heels which made your legs seem beautiful and long. As soon as he opened the door and saw you standing in front of his door , looking as beautiful as ever , he was reassured that he NEEDED to confess to you. It was now or never.

The whole night , he tried to be closer to you , touch you more to see your reaction and you seemed unbothered by it. You really didn’t mind. You actually liked when Sang-woo was close to you or touch your arm or leg. It made you feel butterflies in your stomach but didn’t allow yourself to show it. You couldn’t. You thought you don’t deserve to be loved by someone like Sang-woo and besides , you thought he didn’t feel the same.

As the clock struck 11pm , he decided that it was time. He was about to confess. You finished your conversation, followed by a comfortable silence and he broke it.

—Y/N , can I ask you something?

—of course , what’s up?

he thought a lot before speaking. He had to choose his words wisely and use the right words to express himself correctly so there are not any misunderstandings.

—Do you like stars?

you found the question a little weird but you liked it. No one had ever asked you that.

—like the stars in the sky?

—yes , the stars in the sky.

—uhh…yeah I do like them a lot!

Sang-woo smiles to himself and looks at you deep in the eye before speaking , which made your stomach flip.

—the stars in the sky con-contain important information about the physics of the Universe and they sym…uhh…symphonise?

you chuckle , finding his little mistake cute

—do you mean symbolise?

—oh yeah! Symbolise! The stars in the sky symbolise positivity and happiness , right?

—yeah I think you’re right…but why are you saying all that? I already know that about the stars.

Sang-woo takes a deep breath before continuing

—you…you are my star.

You are both surprised and confused by what he said. “What does he mean by saying that I’m his star?”

—what do you mean?

Sang-woo smiles and slowly places his hand on top of yours.

—we are friends and you know information about me just like stars do for the Universe. Also stars symbolise happiness and you…you are my happiness.

Sang-woo says nervously , waiting for your reaction. You smile and caress his hand , clear that you haven’t understood what he means.

—awww thank you , Sang-woo , that’s such a cute compliment!

He sighs and looks away in frustration. He really wants you to understand that he wants you. He grabs your chin , forcing you to look at him.

—y/n , can you understand me? I need to tell you something important!

—y-yes! What is it?

—I…

He sighs again and his grip on your chin loosens and he caresses it with his thumbs , making your heart race.

—you…you are my star. You bring me happiness and I don’t just want to be the Universe. I want to be…uhh…something more. I want to be important to you and…make you mine. I want to make you happy and I want to be more than just your friend.

He says loud and clear but still nervous. You look at him in the eyes , clearly shocked by the way he expressed himself but you still understood what he meant. He wants to be yours. He wants to…be your boyfriend. You smile and caress his cheek with one hand and his hand with the other one.

—of course…of course I’ll be your girlfriend, your universe and anything else you want , Sang-woo.

Sang-woo looks at you shocked. You finally understood. All of this hard work finally paid off. A wide smile spread on his face and wraps his arms around you , hugging you tightly.

—thank you…thank you so much y/n…

You smile warmly and hug him back

—no…thank YOU. Thank you for trying your best to learn my language and confess your feelings to me. And sorry for not understanding earlier…

Sang-woo places a soft kiss on your cheek and hugs you tightly. He doesn’t ever want to let go now that you are finally his. Not after he studied hard , despite his age. This proves that people are allowed to live each other even if they don’t speak the same language and if someone really loves you , they’ll do anything for you.

———————————————————————

The end! Thank you so much @sensationallysangwoo for requesting this and I’m sorry for writing this like 2 weeks after you requested it…anyway , my requests are open and you all can request anything at any time! More fics coming soon!

taglist: @chosangwooswife

[capta1ncr3ampi3]

Stupid Whore Older Sister

!MDNI!

One night, you tried to get yourself off, but you couldn't do it. What better choice than to ask your brother, who is a year younger, for assistance? You can't help but go see him, even if your parents tell you that he's a shame and that you should avoid him because you're too unique for him to even glance at. Not after you were a 16-year-old virgin and he fucked you and taught you how to screw yourself. You did something that he didn't like, so he punished you after he agreed to fuck you.

FT: Younger!Brother/Older!sister Reader

TW: stepcest! Spanking, degradation, humiliation, overstimulation, ect. 

"Can't,'s hurts!" a crying whine escapes your kiss-swollen lips, petite small hands desperately gripping and clawing at the wooden desk as you look down at your brother whose hands aggressively make contact with the plush fat of your bum, the repeated sounds of spanking filled the room. 

"Stupid whore," he jeers into your neck. “Did you think I was joking sis?” he retorts, tone icey without remorse. His fingers slowly made their way to your chin, eventually creeping closer to your lips and forcing them apart. Fingers bullying their way into your mouth, almost touching the back of your throat, the taste of cum still lingering on them, gagging you as salty tears prick the corner of your eyes. 

“Say…how would Mom and Dad react if they saw their precious daughter getting fucked dumb by her disgrace of a little brother?” he jests as he throws down another blow to your bruised ass, tinted red and decorated with dark blemishes and bite marks. His thumb gently caresses your tear-stained cheek. You squirm, throwing your head from side to side, your lower lip trembling and fixed into a pout. 

"P-Ple- *hic* please…n-no *hic* more!" You tell him as your hand tugs at his white short-sleeved t-shirt, tears still falling from your lash line even though it's been almost ten minutes of spanking you.

"jus’ a little more sis…you can handle it, can't you?"  he coos into your ear, sucking and pressing feathery kisses along the soft flesh of your neck and shoulder as he slowly grinds his clothed hardness against your moistened Hello Kitty panties eliciting soft moans through your pleads and cries. 

He pushes your cute little panties to the side as he slowly inches his fat girthy cock through the velvety walls of your pussy. He rolls his hips against your ass in short, quick thrusts, effectively grinding his cock into the spongy spot of your walls and you whimper in complaint as he reaches around to rub at your clit. Fast, vicious circles on your soaked nub, shooting agonizing pleasure throughout your entire body as you mewl his name in pleasure. 

He thrusts into you, burying his cock in your wet heat and he clenches his jaw when your walls squeeze tight around him. A shaky whine dribbles out from your plump lips as he rips another orgasm from you, walls convulsing around him as your eyes roll back and your juices sloppily squirt all over his pants. 

You arch your back into him, nails digging into the wooden desk as you mewl, squirming, while he buries his cock into you “What? Fucked stupid already?” He says continuing to fuck you dumb, his hands gripping your hips surely leaving imprints and bruises as he pulls your hips towards his groin, his pace quickening. 

Leaning in, he buries himself against the nook of your neck whilst he groans in your ear, breathing hot against your burning skin as he watches his cock disappear completely inside of you before pulling it back out, a creamy ring around the base as he pounds you.

“You like being fucked stupid, huh? Dumb whore getting her brains fucked out.”

[msmk11]

Five More Minutes

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

WC: 1.5k

CW: Fluff, angst, the games, illusions to death

Summary: Five more minutes. A phrase you say often but only now really mean.

Day 16 of mk’s mad dash

The cold waves crash against your legs as you run through the water away from Finnick. Two person tag is pointless, really, but at the young age of eight, practicality is not an important thing on your mind. You’re still at the age where you’re similar in height and strength to the blonde, so you pretty easily outrun his attempts at tagging you.

“Wah, wah, you can’t catch me Finny!” You tease, sticking your tongue out.

“I told you not to call me that!” he yells, a pout growing on his face.

By the way his brows furrow in concentration, you can tell that your best friend is more determined than ever to catch you.

You run back up onto the shore, your feet sinking into the wet sand beneath you.

“Hey guys!” A voice shouts distantly.

You stop running and look up to see Finnick’s mother at the back door.

“It’s time to come inside my loves, dinner is ready!”

Just when you’re about to respond, a cold wet hand presses your arm.

“Tag, you’re it!”

Finnick stands beside you, golden hair windblown and wearing a big smirk.

“Not fair!” You shout back, betrayal written all over your face, “the game was obviously paused.”

“Never said so,” Finnick answers, arms crossed bossily.

“I’m gonna get you!”

You look back at Finnick’s mom, “five more minutes!”

*****

“Five more minutes.”

You look up at Mrs. Odair standing next to you, arms crossed and an anxious expression on her face that she absolutely cannot hide from you.

“Five more minutes,” you agree, reaching out and squeezing her arm gently.

Five more minutes. Five more minutes until Finnick would finally arrive home from the Capitol.

Finnick. Your Finny. The Capitol’s newest Victor. The youngest too, winning at the young age of only fourteen.

After being gone for weeks, you’d finally get to see him again. You’d finally be able to rest easy, knowing that he’s alive, safe, and within walking distance.

You hear it before you see it- the horn of the large, silver train warning everyone to back away from the railway. As it glides smoothly into the station, your stomach erupts in anxious butterflies, equal parts eager and nervous to see Finnick after all this time.

The train door slides open and the first person to step out is Finnick’s mentor, Mags. But then, there he comes, your best friend.

It seems the entirety of District Four is crammed into the small train station awaiting Finnick’s return, so the whole platform erupts into cheers at the sight of him exiting the train.

Finnick, ever the charmer, immediately puts on his best smile, waving to the crowd. Though you know a lot of it is an act, you can tell a part of him is genuinely happy to be home surrounded by his neighbors and friends.

His smile turns fully genuine, however, when he sees his parents and you waiting for him near the front of the platform. Finnick runs straight into his mother’s arms. Though he already towers over her, he looks so small at this moment, relieved to be back with his mama after all the trauma he had faced. When he pulls away, he gives his dad a hug too and then turns to you. If possible, his smile grows even wider and he opens his arms to you. You run straight into his arms at full force and he catches you, barely even stumbling under your weight.

You bury your face in his neck, “Welcome back, Finny.”

*****

You’re already ready to kill someone and the games haven’t even started yet. Interviews, in front of millions of people, are starting soon, and you’ve never felt more uncomfortable. You aren’t against dressing nice, but as a sixteen year old girl from the districts, you’re certainly against dressing uncomfortably and so lavishly. The big, poofy, blue gown you’re wearing is supposed to resemble the ocean, but you’re sure your stylist has gotten it all wrong. One is pleasant and good and makes you happy, the other is a stupid-ass dress with itchy fabric.

Luckily, your team has at least given you a few minutes alone before your interviews to collect yourself.

There’s a soft knock on the door and before you can even respond, it’s opening and closing quickly. Finnick is upon you in a second, arms wrapped around your waist and his chest flush against yours.

“Finnick,” you sigh, “what’re you doing here? I thought mentors weren’t allowed to be back here before the interviews?”

He pulls away a little and gives you a wink, “perks of being the Capitol’s Darling.”

You roll your eyes and scoff at him, but secretly you’re grateful for his status in the Capitol. Without his unwavering support at your side every second of your games journey so far, you certainly would’ve cracked. You’re not sure how you’re gonna fare in the arena.

Finnick looks you up and down, “you look….”

“Like an idiot?”

“No,” the blonde says, suddenly very serious, “You look beautiful, really. Though I suppose you always are.”

“Finn-“

You’re interrupted by the door opening. A backstage assistant peeks their head in the room, “you’re on in ten.”

When the door shuts, Finnick squeezes your waist gently, “okay, we should probably go.”

You stop him before he can pull away, “wait! Five more minutes, please.”

Finnick nods and pulls you impossibly tighter, resting his forehead against yours. As you stare into his seafoam colored eyes, a wave of calm overcomes you.

You’re so close that your breaths intermingle, and your stomach does a flip.

“Finnick-“

But you don’t need to say anything else, because his lips are already on yours.

*****

Even though Finnick never has to work another day in his life if he doesn’t want to, he’s still up and off to the docks every day before the sun even rises. It’s a habit of his you used to admire, maybe selfishly so, because he always showed up on your doorstep after a morning on the water with some sort of gift or breakfast in hand. But now, now that you and Finnick live together, you hate it. Even though you’re happy he’s doing something he enjoys, you, again, selfishly, want to keep him in bed a little longer.

When you feel him start to stir next to you, you instantly whine into his bare chest.

“Where are you going?”

Finnick’s strong arms squeeze you tightly, “gotta get up and head to the docks, sweetheart, you know this.”

“No,” you moan tiredly, “stay here.”

Your boyfriend places a soft kiss to the crown of your head and mumbles into your hair, “you know I can’t. Gotta work.”

You open your heavy eyes and look up at him, chin still resting on his muscled chest, “but you don’t have to. You could stay here and lay with me.”

Finnick sighs and you know he feels bad, but you also know you won’t change his mind. You find his stubbornness endearing, even if it works against you sometimes.

“Sweetheart, I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

You huff dejectedly, “fine. But will you at least lay with me for five more minutes?”

The blonde pushes a strand of hair out of your face, “okay, pretty girl, five more minutes.”

The squeal of delight that escapes you makes your boyfriend chuckle, and you wrap yourself around him like a baby koala bear.

You look up at his pretty smile and long, soft eyelashes and place a soft kiss to his jaw, “Thank you, my love.”

*****

Much like all the mornings before, you cling to your husband tightly as you two lay in bed, preparing to face the day ahead.

But nothing about this morning is typical.

Instead of contentment you feel fear, instead of rested you feel restless, and instead of Finnick being eager to start his day, he clings to you just as tightly, head buried in your chest listening to the beating of your heart.

You mindlessly run your fingers through your lover’s curls, the only thing keeping you from completely breaking down.

Today is the day of the quarter quell. A day you never thought would come- when you have to enter the arena again. Even worse- when Finnick has to enter the arena again.

You’re still in shock over it all, and you can’t help the bitterness you feel towards the “girl on fire” for putting you and Finnick in this position again. Still, you try to keep your husband’s words in mind- it’s all for the revolution.

Only time will tell if you two would make it out alive.

Finnick’s rustling startles you from your daze and you look down at him, watching as he glances towards the clock on the nightstand.

“We probably should-“

“No.”

You pull Finnick towards your face, “just five more minutes, okay?”

Five more minutes. A phrase you’ve said countless times, but only now really mean in the face of death.

Five more minutes to hold your husband. To kiss him. To love him in the security of your bed. To pretend that the world doesn’t wait outside your door.

*****

Oh what you’d do for five more minutes.

[whxtedreams]

Blood Runs Thicker than Water Masterlist

A Joel & F!Reader Mini Series. (Platonic DBF!)

A five-part series following Joel and his best friend's daughter through the end of the world and each time they find eachother.

The Blood

Joel Miller was a good, honest man before the world fell apart. Each time he promises you that he'll come back for you - that he'll save you - he feels the good and honest man he once was, die inside him little by little. He tries to fight his way back to you but every time he finds where he left you, he's too late and you're lost in the world again.

Every time Joel finds you, he fights harder and harder to keep you with him, to keep the promise he made to your father all those years ago- to keep you safe.

He fails you time and time again, fails himself.

The Water

You were four the first time Joel told you he would come back. You were four the first time you cried as he watched him leave you behind for someone more important. Then you were eight, sixteen, twenty four and now as you hear him tell you once more at twenty six, you laugh at him. "We both know that's a lie."

With every time Joel finds you just to leave you to save someone else closer to him, a part of yourself dies as he turns his back to you.

He fails you time and time again.

Until he doesn't.

Main Current Tags

PLATONIC!RELATIONSHIP, Joel & Reader, dbf!Joel, abadonment, child!reader(ages 4,8,16,24,26), Joel is really trying his best I swear, foster father/daughter relationship, reader adores Joel, Joel calls reader she/her/little monster/baby/baby girl/his girl/Princess , Joel is a little shit, Joel can’t express his feelings, Joel is just a tired dad, Joel not having his shit together, panic, Joel is just full of anxiety, father!joel, soft!joel, outbreak day, fear, injury, violence,Grief, mentions of loss, brief suicidal thoughts (joel) - like im talking two sentences at most, depressed!joel, typical outbreak emotions and actions, Raider!Joel, OC!reader's father: Myles, happy family, descriptions of joel killing someone, implications to torture - but not written in detail, protective!Joel, clickers, hordes, killing clickers - game style (I tried at least), persuaded kill, multiple POV,

WAY more tags to come and each chapter is tagged.

Chapter List - ongoing

Current Word Count: 51.2k

Part 1: The Babysitter and the Abandonment

Chapter 1: The Little Monster // 1.6k Chapter 2: The Fairy and the King // 2.9k Chapter 3: The Failed Birthday // 2.3k Chapter 4: At the End of the World // 3.7k Chapter 5: Dead Man Walking // 1.1k

Part 2: The Raider and the Guilt (currently writing)

Chapter 6: A Fragile Existence // 3.6k Chapter 7: a Child Would have Cried // 2.6k Chapter 8: A Run of Good Luck // 5.3k Chapter 9: Just Like Old Times // 4.6k Chapter 10: What Reminds You of Them // 2.3k Chapter 11: The Resort // 3.5k Chapter 12: Forever with You // 5.3k Chapter 13: No Saints Left // 4.7k Chapter 14: Forever Without You // 0.9k Chapter 15: Bloodstained Floors // 1.7k Chapter 16: Crawl Home to Them // 4.4k Chapter 17:

Part 3: The Smuggler and the Pain

Part 4: The Cargo and the Choice

Part 5: The Apologist and the Forgiven

Mood Board

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[rutlancecf]

YOU WHAT ...!!!

A few hours later, Bruce and his faithful butler, Alfred Pennyworth, returned to the mansion. First they went to see Grayson in the prison, first to find out his current situation and then to tell him about the state of health of his two younger brothers. After taking more than twenty minutes to calm him down, he promised him that he would do everything possible to get him out of there with his name cleared, and that he would keep him up to date on the health of his brothers.

Fortunately, both Jason and Tim Drake would only be under observation at Gotham General Hospital for one night. Jason only had a few scrapes and a mild concussion from jumping off the motorcycle he was riding to avoid being crushed. And Tim had been accidentally pushed off the stairs by a pair of students who were running, only managing to get a fracture in his right ankle. Which he could have avoided if he wasn't walking in his sleep.

So the only thing Bruce Wayne wanted at that moment was to have a comfortable dinner and sleep until the next morning, without any worries...

- Father.-

Oh no. He looked up surprised. He had forgotten about his youngest son. Damian.

- Damian.-

From the posture of his biological son, Bruce knew that a catastrophe was coming, which he did not want to deal with. He was tired, worried about the situation of the rest of his boys, he just wanted to eat and sleep.

*PAS*

A recently closed door made him realize that there was one more person.

- Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne! - The newcomer greeted very cheerfully.

- Jon.- He smiled very barely, while trying to remember if his son had mentioned anything about his visit.- Good afternoon.-

- Ahem, now that they've exchanged pleasantries.- Damian took out a folder and handed it to his father, while taking his best friend's hand.- Instead of getting into a useless conversation, I'll make it clear that approximately an hour and a half ago.- He looked at the watch on his wrist.- Jonathan and I have formalized and consummated our marriage through civil means.-

To say that his jaw dropped to the floor was an understatement. He looked at his 16-year-old son, whose stage of rebellion began since his childhood, then he reviewed the documents, finding them in order (and therefore, legal and legitimate), to finally look in disbelief at the friend of his headache, of barely 13 years old.

Who took a couple of steps back from that look, and got nervous to play with his index fingers.

- Dami told me that he would give me a box of instant noodle soup if I said yes.- The youngest Kent justified himself.- Am I in trouble? -

There was only one question running through the man's head.

Why?

- Father, given your insistent reminder about the limits of my actions in this your house, I have chosen to comply with one of the clauses that you imposed: be of legal age, or change my marital status from single to married.- The newlywed then responded, to the silent question.

- We brought you some cake! - Jonathan spoke out of nowhere, who didn't seem to be reading the mood of the room.- Dami wanted coconut, but the lemon one was delicious.- He let go of Damian's hand to head to the kitchen.- In fact, I'm going to eat a little more.-

Once they were alone, Bruce could only say one thing, which expressed everything he had inside.

- DAMIAAAAAAAAAAN!-

Moments later, an ambulance pulled away from Wayne Manor.

- Do you think your dad will be okay, Damian?- Kent asked, somewhat worried.

- Yes, don't worry, Habibi.- He took his hand and kissed it.- Now go back to your house and go to sleep. See you tomorrow.-

- Okay.- He took flight and waved goodbye.- See you tomorrow, Dami!-

- Don't forget to brush your teeth.-

~*~BONUS~*~

The next day both families met to discuss the current situation of their minor children. Of course, if that's what you can call the cat-and-dog fight between Bruce Wayne and Lois Lane.

- Lois, Bruce. Wouldn't it be better to calm down?-

- SHUT UP CLARK/SMALLVILLE!- The two yelled at him.

The aforementioned just shrunk in his seat, watching as they continued to yell at each other. While Alfred stood next to where Damian was sitting, with a tray of tea.

- Are you enjoying the show, young master Damian?-

- It's a family reunion, Pennyworth.- He responded while bringing a cup of tea to his lips.- The first of many more.-

Jonathan, who was devouring some cookies, turned around and whispered quietly to his husband.

- What show are you talking about?-