#(which was both amazing and overwhelming)

[love4hobi]

i saw jhope 🫶

[teh-nos]

today's overthinking of the marvel cinematic universe and its fandom is that while there is a strong thread of classism in the CEO Loki/Blue Collar Thor trends, it has not arisen entirely or even primarily from the fandom itself, which is to some extent just casting the two leading men in terms of what archetype they'd be modelling for on the cover of a romance novel. which is largely built - i suspect - from the visual presentation of the characters in the original movie(s). whether there's classism in those choices by the filmmakers i will leave as homework a thought experiment for the reader, because there clearly is but i don't want to say that i wouldn't want to take this baseless theory too far.

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

ok soim gonna ramble about the wedding in the tags cos this is my diary lol kitty dont read this (she's not been on tumblr in ages it should b fine pfft)

[headspace-hotel]

Y'all

Im not on tiktok and never have been, but I downloaded RedNote just to see what is up, and I am witnessing something truly amazing

The Chinese user community is giving the American tiktok refugees an overwhelmingly warm welcome, meanwhile the American users seem to have collectively agreed that not only will they not let the app be taken over with English and they will provide Mandarin subtitles for everything, they are LEARNING MANDARIN. Ive scrolled through so many videos of Americans offering greetings in Mandarin to try to acclimate to the new environment and be respectful, and speakers of both languages are posting lots of tutorials on language basics and internet slang in Mandarin

My God, there is an AMAZING outpouring of curiosity and delight among everyone to learn about each others cultures and daily lives. People are posting videos of landscapes, cities, towns, and natural areas in USA and China, posting recipes and traditional foods, vlogs of everyday life, and reaching out to find people with similar hobbies.

And it's not just young people! There are loads of videos from middle-aged American guys who have come to post about fishing or motorcycles and are now happily chatting with Chinese users sharing the same interests using Google translate

One American guy who was like. in his 60's had a comment on one of his videos that was like "Red Neck?" and he replied "Yes!" and I just about fucking lost it

Also the Chinese users love, and I mean LOVE, Luigi Mangione. He is apparently broadly adored in China. There is SO much fanart and SO many edits.

There are many threads initiating Chinese users to ask questions of American users about the USA, and vice versa, and everyone on both sides is clearing up a lot of misconceptions. Some of the questions I saw a lot from Chinese users were: "Is it true that American parents kick you out of the house as soon as you turn 18" (not often, but sometimes) "Do you all really wear shoes in bed" (NO!!! Apparently a lot of characters in American sitcoms are shown lying in bed with shoes on which I never noticed before!) and "are there really guns everywhere" (yes).

For the most part Chinese content creators seem just overwhelmed by the sudden influx of hundreds of followers that are super enthusiastic about what they're doing. A lot of them have made posts about how initially they thought the uptick in follower count was some kind of error, or that there was some kind of joke or prank, but then they realized the interest and enthusiasm was genuine and now they're welcoming all the newcomers.

I found several posts by Chinese users saying that this felt like a really profound historical moment, where these previously separated worlds are suddenly smashing together and suddenly there is freedom to learn about each other's cultures and connect. One of them said something along the lines of "This is a 21st century Tower of Babel and even though I'm an atheist I hope God lets this tower stand." OUGH MY HEART.

The app itself works a little bit like a video-based version of Pinterest. It's not really my thing so I probably won't be on there long term but it's been amazing to see what's happening.

[muliwamm]

Nanami Kento is many things, needy is not one of them.

Of course he was completely and utterly obsessed with you—his beautiful, kind hearted, sexy wife—but Kento was a controlled man. He wasn't popping a boner everytime you so much as glanced at him.

But, on the rare occasion he did feel this way, he would have to be insanely stressed out and withheld of your intoxicating essence due to the dreadful hours spend at work.

Kind of like now.

He's been deprived of you for the past 2 weeks. Nothing but his stupid hand to help get him off in the late hours of the night when he would return home from work and you'd already be asleep.

You insisted he could simply wake you up to fulfill his desires, but Nanami would never disturb his wife of her beauty sleep.

Though at the end of the day, Kento is still a man.

Which is why you're here.

He felt crazed. Positively ruined by just the sight of your naked figure sprawled in front of him, completely at his mercy.

Kento's dilated pupils trail along every ridge, curve and crevice of your body, causing you to shiver under his intense gaze.

His large palm comes up to rub slowly along your waist as he sat on his knees between your parted legs.

"So, so, beautiful," Kento murmured with hooded eyes.

"My wife," he groans, throwing his head back and bringing one hand to palm his aching crotch.

"Kennn" you whine, lightly clawing at his thighs to try and get him to do something.

"Need you so bad, my love," he says breathless, leaning to trail soft kisses down your neck while pulling down his boxers.

"Then take me, ken" you mewl.

Kento wasn't the only one deprived of release. Countless nights spent with your fingers stuffed in your cunt trying to mimic Nanami's just wasn't going to cut it. It wasn't the same as the real thing.

you both let out drawled out moans as Kento eased himself into your tight chasm, your fingers threading through his blonde locs, tugging gently.

"Feels s'good, Ken," you say breathlessly in his ear.

His hips move at a steady rhythm, pushing moan after moan from you both. Kento's hands run up and down your figure before resting on your hips, holding them down firmly as he increases his pace.

"Oh, baby," Kento borderline whines.

"Ohhh, baby," he buries his head in the crook of your neck, giggling.

Kento was fucking giggling as he pounded your pussy into the mattress.

"Fu-fuuckk, you're amazing, my love," his head raised to rest his forehead against yours. Your gaze on him never waivers as he fucks you harder, as he threads his fingers in between yours, chanting profanity after profanity while bringing you both closer to your highs.

"I'm gonna- fuck, I'm so close, my wife. I'm so fucking close," you watch as his hazel eyes gloss over, brimming with tears due to the overwhelming pleasure.

"Inside, Ken, pleasee," you moan out, fucking yourself back against him as you feel your high approaching. Your arms wrap tightly around Kento's neck, his lips pressed against your ear.

You hear him whisper something in your ear, it was faint, almost incoherent. "P-promise to love you-mmm, never l-leave you f'as l-long as I-oh fuck."

Before you could realize what he was saying you both reached your climax, the mind numbing pleasure clouding your brain.

Kento's whispers halted, instead replaced with breathy whimpers as he slowly grinded his cock into you, riding out your orgasms.

You both sat in silence, peppering soft kisses along each other when you finally realized what Kento was whispering.

Your pussy was so good you made him recite his vows.

Nanami Kento is many things, needy is not one of them—unless you're his wife.

A/n: I had a thought about fucking ken so good he recites his vows and here is that thought expanded upon 🤩↕️

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Hello love!! How are you doing? 💕

I LOVE your works so much!! You are so amazing and talented!! I wanted to thank you for writing the 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 cursed technique Nanami fic, and especially not judging me for it 🫶🏽. I don’t know you but you seem like such a nice and cool person, with that being said… I was thinking about a fic I saw where Saturo Gojo got his wisdom teeth removed and he falls in love with you over again and I thought that would ADORABLE but with Kento 😭 (also I can’t remember who wrote the fic to give credit sorry) So like yeah Nanami would get his wisdom teeth removed and you’d take care of him and he would be such a charming man (he already is) but like just the most fluff thing he’d be like “you’re a very beautiful nurse” “I’m not a nurse but thank you” you feel me? Anyways that was it lol

Much love and take care!! 💗💗

(I don’t know what anon is 😅 is it like your followers cause I see request and people ask if they can be added as anon and I’m like so confused)

You’re my…. my wife?

Tags: Nanami x fem!Reader, established relationship, crack, fluff, suggestive at the end.

An: Hey Anon! Tysm for requesting again. I’m glad you liked the freaky energy fic!! Also, ofc I’ll never judge you for any fic idea (as long as it’s not like straight up deplorable with nasty kinks).

I hope it’s okay, but I changed this fic idea a little because I fear it was a bit too close to the original creator’s idea, and I don’t want to encroach on their idea. However, I hope the vibes are still there that you wanted!!

Your normally strong, doting, intelligent husband has been reduced to a confused mess. Lying in the bed in the sterile infirmary, Shoko carefully monitors his vitals while Satoru recites exactly how it all happened for the nth time.

Your loving, sweet, charming husband was hit with a very specific cursed technique while he was out on a mission with Gojo. Luckily, he was physically unharmed and mostly mentally unharmed as well… except the cursed technique is one that messes with the memory.

The curse didn’t just want to kill Nanami; it wanted to break him. The curse robbed Nanami of his memory of his most precious moments: the one’s that included you.

His hazel eyes scanned the room, wondering why everyone was making such a big fuss over him. He was fine - really.

You sat beside his hospital bed, wanting to hold his hand, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him. Shoko said that his mind may be a bit fragile after having such a crucial part of his memory tampered with.

When his hazel eyes met yours, Nanami stared at you for a moment before shifting in his bed slightly. He looked to be uncomfortable with your sheer presence, which only broke your heart more.

“Were you hit with the cursed technique too?” He finally speaks, looking over at you with a bit of a confused look. He was really trying to piece together why you were here with him.

“Oh, um… no..” You quietly respond with a forced smile. Your heart longed for your husband, and he was right here but he wasn’t your husband.

“Forgive me… Are you Shoko’s apprentice..?” He tries once again to remember. He’s seen your face before. Maybe in a different lifetime.

Satoru and Shoko are silent as they both witness what’s going on between you and Nanami. Holding their breaths, they’re hopeful that he’ll regain his memory at some point. The curse couldn’t just extract memories. As Shoko explained it, the curse probably just kept the memories hidden from Nanami. Your husband will probably slowly start to remember you over time.

“No… I’m not Shoko’s apprentice.” You politely answer again. As bittersweet as this is, it’s certainly a cute scene to see Kento trying to make conversation with you.

“Hm.” He hums to himself quietly before he gazes at you again. His hand combs through his hair, trying to fix it up from lying in the hospital bed, and Satoru quietly snickers.

“Trying to look good for her, Nanamin?” He teases lightheartedly, earning a death glare from your husband. You softly giggle too, realizing what’s going on. Your poor husband isn’t uncomfortable with your presence. He’s nervous.

“Don’t be crude, Satoru. There’s a lady in the room.” He huffs, shaking his head at Satoru’s audacity.

“Aww, thank you, Nanami.” Shoko grins, subtly playing along with Satoru’s tactic.

“I wasn’t talking about you.” Nanami responds flatly before his eyes shift to you in another “secretive” glance, except everyone notices how he keeps looking at you. Your husband can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“I.. apologize for being a bit forward, but do you think we could…” His eyes flicker down to the wedding band that’s proudly sat upon your finger. His face subtly drops to a disappointed look. “Ah, I see. forget what I was saying.”

Shoko and Satoru are nearly losing it. The irony that Nanami is disappointed that he can’t ask you out because you’re married to him is hilarious. You give them a look, and they both quickly excuse themselves from the room, so they can go laugh together.

Once the two are finally out of the room, you smile softly before placing your hand over your husband’s, using your thumb to gently stroke the back of his hand. He looks at you with an unsure look, but he doesn’t remove his hand. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly.

“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t like you touching another man like that…” He mutters quietly, causing you to softly giggle.

“Well, it’s a good thing I am your wife.” You finally reveal to him, unable to keep the secret any longer.

Nanami’s eyes widen, and he looks at you with sparkling eyes but also utter confusion written all over his face. His heart is racing in his chest. The heart monitor starts to beep at a more pressured pace. The pretty woman that has been sitting next to him is his wife…?

“You’re my… my wife?” He asks quietly.

“Mhm.” You hum in agreement before lacing your fingers with his. Your wedding band rubs against his. Both of the gems were cut from the same diamond. His eyes then focus on the joining of your hands, and he notices it too. “We’ve been married for a few years now.” You explain in a calm tone, trying to ease him into the idea of it all.

“I… I’m sorry… I don’t-“ Nanami is rarely off kilter like this, but he’s just trying to wrap his head around it all. You’re his wife… You’re his wife. “I’m sorry- I just can’t seem to remember…”

“It’s okay, Ken. Take your time.” You encourage as you rub on his hand gently.

His eyes fall to his lap, and a small smile curls on his lips. He may not completely comprehend what’s going on, but he knows in his very soul that he’s the luckiest man alive because you’re his wife.

Watching Ken fall in love with you all over again and rediscover all his daily pleasures was a treat. He slowly regained his memory over time: prompted by his senses randomly picking up on familiar sighs, smells, or even tastes.

Ken didn’t only fall in love with you all over again. He fell in love with the life he cultivated with you again. He found himself laughing a bit harder. He squeezed you a bit tighter. He lounged in bed for an extra ten minutes in the morning time to bask in your presence.

Oh, and that’s not to mention the literal tears he cried the first time he felt your cherished cunt after the incident. The way you squeezed around him so intensely… the way it’s so fucking wet — greedily sucking him in… Goddamn, he’s so lucky to have you.

[zulashi-the-writer]

Hii💗 just came from your polyrujinu fic and absolutely devoured it, I saw that your request are open so I was thinking if you could write another polyrujinu fic but with a reader who has a secret identity 🤭

Like since both of them kept secrets from reader then why don't reader kept secrets from them😏

Honestly, I was thinking of reader being apart of alien stage, possibly a character like luka from alien stage?

And how would they react when they saw reader on stage😳 (I CAN SMELL THE DRAMA) and to not complicate things perhaps when reader is on stage she altered her appearance to be mostly unrecognizable 😚

If this request is overwhelming, you can just ignore this💖 (also would love more of poly rujinu crumbs even if it's not base on this request 🤭)

I'm really sorry I haven't watched Alien Stage🥲 so I hope you don't mind I'm making them apart of a band, which is K/DA

Biggest Fans

Poly Rujinu x Popstar Reader

Summary: when your secret comes out in the most terrible way and your walls come crashing down with the two most people in your life

1st/2nd person pov

"Ain't nobody bringing us down, down, down, down"- POP/STARS I sang into the mic, my mask making my hot breath fan into my face I held my pose as the crowd cheered, I stared out looking at all the band lights smiling underneath the fabric it feels amazing standing here, I relaxed from my pose along with my band mates taking a bow before running off stage peeling my mask off releasing a long awaited breath.

"Huntrix is here" one of our crew squealed making my body tense, my hands quickly rushed to put of the mask making a few mistakes as I watched them approach, Rumi smiled making my heart flutter "you guys were amazing" Zoey squealed rushing to hug all of us, the sudden pressure of her hug making me breathless, we all breathed out a 'thank you' leading them back to our changing room, we did a collab when we were just starting out so it's been a few times were we just hang out but my mask always stays on which they thankfully never question.

We plopped down on the couch with a huff Rumi sitting across from me on her phone most likely texting Jinu about dinner later, my heart jumped hearing my phone buzzed alerting me of a text, I watched her eyes flicker over with curiosity, I pulled it out, the screen switched on displaying her notification with a few hearts next to her name "hey guys I'll be back family calling" I laughed nervously standing up from my spot, walking into the connecting bathroom and shutting the door.

'Hey can I come over after this hangout???' my heart raced as my finger tips hung over the keyboard, I hate having to lie 'I'll be home late I have some new clients coming in for measurements, I have some snacks in the cupboard if your hungry' I typed out only to delete it 'I'm going to be here late tonight how about tomorrow?' I released a shaky breath as I pressed send, my eyes watched the double ticks turn blue, my breath catching as I saw the bubbles pop up and then disappear "everything ok in there" my body jumped and stumbled to catch my phone as it fell from my hands "y-yeah just a minute' I called out straightening up as I caught my phone, I checked one more time but no messages before slipping it back in my pocket.

It wasn't the first time I asked to move plans but they've done it to so she can't be that upset about it, I rolled my shoulders back relaxing them before leaving the bathroom, everyone was already standing by the door "so early" I asked confused Rumi only glanced at me before returning to her bandmate "yeah we got to bounce" Mira murmured her lips curled in a slight smile, we bid our goodbyes before they left.

"You know one of these days you are going to have to tell them" Madison spoke laying a gentle hand on my shoulder as I pulled off the mask, letting it hang loose on my fingers "I know your scared but they love you and I doubt they'd break up with you for being a superstar" she smiled before heading to her makeup chair, I stared at the ground in a daze 'how would it be if I told them' my mind went straight into a negative spiral it always does when it comes to them, I don't want to lose them, I just can't and them knowing I was lying would hurt them.

"Maybe" I murmured drowning out the conversation that continued sitting out the couch staring at my black screen no response or call just silent, it was nerve wrecking my phone dinged with a notification but it wasn't hers I tapped on it and it took me to a Insta live, jinu dancing with the band preforming on of their new songs, my heart fluttered he was just amazing "I'm gonna head out" I said standing up from my spot, I took off my mask and slid it into my pocket along with my phone.

I grabbed the rest of my things and waved everyone goodbye "remember I want the finished melody by tonight" our manager called out but I just waved him off and rushed into our drivers car that was waiting for me, we talked a little as my eyes traveled across the passing buildings watching the billboards switch between us, Huntrix and Saja Boys for the upcoming idol awards I sighed out of frustration throwing my head back against the head rest, this was so frustrating, why can't this be easy.

The car pulled up a hill nearing my small house slowly coming to a holt infront of its quaint garden, the beautiful wild flowers lit up by the small garden lights "goodnight" I smiled at the driver, stepping out of the car my body shivered at the cold night air, I just needed to shower I groaned in delight imagining the hot water racing down my body, I rushed into the house kicking my shoes off greeting the animals as I placed down my things heading straight for my room tearing off my clothes as I went, walking through my bedroom towards the bathroom I switched in the light before stepping into it, I was hit by the cold radiating off of the tiles.

My body quivered as I stepped into the shower turning on the water, a cold squeal leaving my throat as the cold water ran down my body before it started getting warmer, my body relaxed as the water heated up letting my hands ease my stiff muscles, once my body was relaxed I began to wash, combing my shampoo through my hair with my fingers letting the soap suds flow over my body I raised my head closing my eyes lifting my hand to rub my face, I i moved my hands to the tap starting to close it savoring the feeling of warmth till there was nothing left.

I grabbed my towel wrapping it around my body, flicking my hair forward wrapping it up too to dry, I walked into my room jumping onto my plush king sized bed grabbing my laptop bringing it infront of me "the finished melody here I come" I murmured stretching out my arms grabbing my headphones placing them over my ears, turned on my laptop scrolling to my music files watching the melody appear on my screen, pressing play the music was low in the background as I started feeling the beat "Is it really a surprise if I'm playing with your mind? And I treat you like a prize then I throw you to the side? Am I really that bad if I love to make you mad? And get happy when you're sad? Only care about a bag" my voice dwindled as I sung the new lyrics typing them as I go.

"In control That's how I like it and I'm never letting go, na-ah-ah Never had a soul (soul) So you ain't taking nothing from me when you go, na-ah-ah I'll stay so deep inside your brain And take you somewhere far away" - Villains the music continued as the lyrics flowed out my life my eyes closed tight getting into the mood, my eyes scrunched closed as the lights flicked on, the lyrics caught in my throat, I opened my eyes looking towards the door to see Jinu and Rumi there their expressions almost unreadable, I rushed from my spot flicking my headphones from my head cringing as the song started playing on full volume "I-I" I didn't know what to say and quickly turned off the song shutting the laptops lid, I looked towards Rumi seeing her hold herself the look of hurt taking over her face "Rumi i-" I paused watching her throw my mask onto the floor infront of me.

"that yours" she questioned her voice low her eyes not meeting mine, I bent down grabbing it and mumbling a quick 'yeah' "why did you not tell us" she muttered moving uncomfortably on her feet I hated seeing her like this 'rumi' I said stepping forward but she stepped away from me making me holt in my movements I opened my mouth, my words coming out shaking "I don't know why I didn't tell you, I just didn't know how to bring it up now it seemed to late to tell you" jinu just looked between us not knowing what to say.

"you could've told me when we first collabed together or the second or how about the fifth" her voice slowly getting louder with each word leaving her lips "I'm sorry Rumi I really didn't know how to tell you" I said making her sigh and look down towards the ground "is that why you always cancel on us" jinu said his voice cracked like holding back emotions, I sighed heavily running my hands over my face "this isn't how it's supposed to happen" I breathed in frustration.

"let me guess you didn't want us to know" jinu muttered my mouth gaped "jinu you know that's not true" I said but he just shook his head moving out of the door "I think it best we leave so you can focus on your secret life" Rumi murmured following after him, I called out but no response just the sound of the closing door, I stumbled back sitting on the bed my hands gripping the edge of it, my phone dinging with messages, my chest heaving with every breath as I went over the conversation in my head imagining the different why it could've gone.

My body was stiff as I moved my hand to grab my phone, my eyes widening as I read their messages:

Rumi: I just need time to think I'll message you when I'm ready

Jinu: me too

My eyes fluttered as I sent a thumbs up exiting the chat seeing my manager send a message on our group:

Manager: The driver will pick you guys up at eight the plane leave at nine

Madison: los Angeles here we come🥳

Lexie: can't wait🎉

I switched my phone off as the messages kept coming, placing it down on the bed I fell back against the mattress turning away from the device, I don't know how long I laid there just staring off at the wall ignoring the world around me, my eyes finally moved once I heard a meow coming from the door it was my cat toasty sitting his big eyes staring at me "feeding time already" I murmured to him groaning as I slowly got up half my body asleep, I slowly made my way to the kitchen filling up their bowls petting them as they walked past me "I'm gonna miss you guys" I said smiling at them before walking back to my room to pack before bed.

I sat on my suitcase finally closing it 'done' I breathed a sigh of relief pushing it next to the other one, I grabbed my carry on from my bed placing it on my suitcase, I moved to sit on my bed looking at my phone, no notifications from them, I bit my lip contemplating if I should tell them "they did say I mustn't message them, but they do now so it's best that I do" I rolled my eyes at myself "what am I doing" I muttered throwing myself back onto the bed "why do relationships have to be so hard" I looked around my room seeing my lyric book laying on my bedside table, I sat up onto my elbows staring at it.

I moved to grab it, slowly paging through all the songs I've written about them, I've never showed anyone this because it's the most vulnerable I've been, my hands traced the page of the last song reading some lines over and over maybe it's time someone does read it, I ripped a blank page from the back grabbing a pencil and writing a letter to them, telling them I'm on tour, as I was almost done my eyes started to droop shut from exhaustion 'just a little nap' I thought shutting my eyes.

I wake up with the sun in my face, my phone buzzing with calls "shit" I muttered stammering to my feet rushing to get ready, the clothes I threw on look peculiar and wrinkled, brushing my hair till it looks somewhat decent and rushed with my bags to the kitchen to feed the pets "I'll see you guys soon, behave for mrs Morris" I called out rushing out the door waving to mrs Morris as she called out to me from her house, I shoved all my stuff into the boot before joining the girls in the car "dam when did you wake up" Madison laughed "3 minutes ago" I giggled making the others laugh too, my heart pinged with sadness as I remembered last night's events 'can't think about that right now' "we got a show tonight".

The stadium was packed with fans screaming widely as you performed the new song, but only the band and crew can see that you were distracted by something, the dance moves were a bit off and the timings a second too late it was frustrating you, how you couldn't get them off your mind but then you saw it a different fan light your favourite colour and the person holding it was jinu who was smiling and singing along to the lyrics "please give a warm welcome to our surprise guests Huntrix" Madison yelled making the crowd scream louder, I watched Rumi burst onto stage coming right next to me "I'm sorry" she murmured but I didn't care and embraced her "don't do that to me ever again" I whispered "I promise" she smiled as we slowly let go of each other, we performed our collabs while jinu cheered in the crowd I finally was all in with them by my side.

"I love you guys"

[starrvsn]

꒰ ⌕ ꒱ recommended bucky barnes fics! ✧ ੭ pls support these writers !

OVER THE INTERCOM ⠆bucky revival because of thunderbolts... my og, i will never forget him.

﹙legend!﹚ ✷ includes smut! must 18+ to read! ✱ — thunderbolts (since a newly realeased movie, i want to prevent spoilers from people who haven't seen it yet! but beware of spoilers) 𝜗𝜚 — my personal fav! — indented text is other recommended fics by the same author!

˚⋆𐙚｡ list is regularly updated when i find new fics! & if links aren’t working pls lmk! ⋆𖦹.✧˚

 ── .✦ also! i may be recommending certain fics but please also check out their blogs! so many of these authors have other amazing pieces just waiting to be read!

✱ back to you written by @helaintoloki / synopsis: Yelena’s interest in y/n forces Bucky to confront his feelings for her as the Thunderbolts take refuge in her home

✱ jackass written by @aquaticmercy / synopsis: Everyone is horrified that Bucky is flirting with a married woman, but then they realize there's a reason why. 

⤷ also! recommending their bucky fics in their masterlist because they are absolutely amazing, swear i binge read all their fics in one night… seriously.

weakness written by @marvelstoriesepic / synopsis: You use Bucky’s only weakness to your advantage until it bites you in the ass.

⤷ ✷ in too deep / synopsis: After Bucky calls, and you come running, you end up locked in his bathroom, trying to get rid of the evidence that something hasn’t gone well this time + part two ✷ different, this time / synopsis: After the hospital visit and the doctor’s diagnosis, Bucky is plagued with guilt. He won’t touch you again until he is absolutely sure that you’re okay. Once you manage to reassure him, you both discover what it truly means to make love, rather than just fucking with suppressed feelings. And it’s overwhelming in the best way.

yours whether you know it or not written by @magical-reid / synopsis: You’ve been running missions with Sam and Bucky for a while now, and everything was fine—until John Walker started showing up and taking an interest in you. Bucky isn’t having it. Not because he’s jealous. Definitely not because he’s jealous. He just doesn’t trust Walker. Right?

𝜗𝜚 the solider and his mission written by @magical-reid / synopsis: When a trigger sends Bucky back into the grip of the Winter Soldier, he shadows you with an unyielding protectiveness that leaves the team on edge, though he doesn't harm anyone. After days of tension and careful steps, Bucky finally breaks through the icy barrier, returning to himself in a quiet, tender moment, finding solace in your presence.

✷ queens throne written by @little-miss-dilf-lover / synopsis: you have been feeling insecure and been nitpicking yourself apart. bucky notices and shows you how much he loves your body by asking you to sit on his face

✷ you take the dark and carve me out a home written by @sinner-as-saint / synopsis: Unwinding after a tough mission is not exactly easy. Especially not when you’re part of a group that is always, constantly under scrutiny. Which is why you were always extra hard on yourself whenever you felt like you made a mistake or let the team down in any way. Bucky was aware of this, he was aware of everything regarding you, and usually he gave you your space and within a day or two you’d get back to normal. But this time was different, he noticed. It had been a couple of days since your last mission and you were still in that weird, distant headspace. And Bucky needed you back, the whole team needed you back, but him more because… well, because he cared about you a lot more than he let on. 

𝜗𝜚 ✷ this is (not) fine written by @artficlly / synopsis: personal assistant rules: don’t crush on bucky barnes. definitely don’t misinterpret a flower purchase and spiral into silent heartbreak, and absolutely never ever get stuck alone with him in an elevator.

⤷ ✷ lessons in love making / synopsis: You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned. (on-going series!) *not apart of the recommended fit but written by the same author!*

✷ the sunday regular written by @little-miss-dilf-lover / synopsis: you’re a waitress working at some shitty run-down diner in the middle of nowhere. and every sunday you see the same person at the same time walk through the doors. the pair of you forming a bond over time. though today, he doesn’t at his usual time and you begin to worry that you’ll have to wait another week to see him. the regular then finds out some information about you that he didn’t wish to know, and in turn, information you didn’t wish to share.

✷ makeout lessons with bucky written by @bcksgirl

drawing the line written by @fireinmoonshot / synopsis: Bucky Barnes has messed up big time ... he just doesn't know it until he sees you and realises he really should've checked his texts.

✷ breaking the ice written by @buckysouvenir / synopsis: when bucky doesn’t know what sex is like in the 2000s, you volunteer to try his fantasies.

off duty written by @lolab4t / synopsis: after a rare night off, you stumble back into avengers tower at 2 am.. tipsy, feet hurting, and definitely not expecting to run into bucky barnes on the couch.

⤷ ✷ part two of off duty / synopsis: days after the tipsy night on the couch, you're left wondering what it meant... especially with bucky acting infuriatingly normal. the tension leads to a steamy exchange between the two, where bucky seems to let go of his gentleman manners for a bit.

✱ ✷ overheard written by @alisonfics / synopsis: alexei persuades the thunderbolts team that they need to throw a costume party at the tower. your costume has a certain effect on a certain super soldier, but he’s too stubborn to admit it. you go to talk to him after the party and find him masturbating to the thought of you.

𝜗𝜚 smile, you're on camera! part one & ✷ two written by @whambamsami / synopsis: you accidentally find out what neighbor!bucky really does for work. and he's more than interested to show you how professional he can be.

✷ nine lives written by @theaquariusedit / synopsis: Bucky Barnes drives you insane—in every possible way. The bickering, the reckless plans, the way he smirks like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. But when a mission goes sideways, leaving you both bloodied and too close for comfort, the tension between you ignites into something impossible to ignore. You can keep pretending. Keep fighting him. But Bucky isn’t one to back down—especially when he knows you don’t really want him to.

✷ it’s been calling me written by @godmadeaterribleerror / synopsis: You've had these… dreams. Strange, realistic, detailed dreams of the same man, almost your whole life. But they're just dreams. You've been so sure, for so long, that they're just dreams.

✷ you started it written by @lucy-literates / synopsis: When Bucky walks in on you wearing nothing but his shirt and an innocent smile, all his carefully kept restraint goes up in flames — and this time, he’s done playing the gentleman.

you said what? written by @ilovolderman / synopsis: You accidentaly call Bucky babe during a mission briefing in front of the whole team. (can be read as a stand alone but is apart of a mini drabble series!)

𝜗𝜚 ✷ scary my god you’re divine written by @cloudystevie / synopsis: he would do anything for you.

✱ dead of the night written by @bruisedboys / synopsis: bucky calls you, his loyal assistant, in the middle of the night, asking for your help. he’s got four assassins with him and they need a place to hide. you’re too in love with him to say no. SPOILER WARNING!! plot spoilers for thunderbolts

𝜗𝜚 ✷ summer surprise written by @pome-seed / synopsis: You've been looking forward to kicking off the summer with a week on your dads new boat. You decide to have one last night of fun before committing to a week on the sea with your family. But you're thrown into a world of shock when you realize the older man you slept with, only days prior, is not only friends with your dad, but also joining you for the trip.

anyone but you written by @nev3rfound / synopsis: you were Bucky's pocket of sunshine, his sweet girl outside of the avengers. a slice of normality in his less-than lifestyle, but what happens when you're pulled into it in the worst way?

﹙newly added!﹚✷ code red written by @buckyseternaldoll / synopsis: The mission was intel. But when you went dark, Bucky lost all control—and the code turned personal.

show some loves to the authors ᡣ𐭩 recommendations by jes!

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Could you please write first time with Vi or with both Vi and Caitlin, I don't really mind which one it's up to you (thank you in advance if you write any of this 🙏)

Comfortable

|| vi x caitlyn x fem!reader

|| Warnings; smut, reader's first, breast play, pussy eating, fingering, praise kink, orgasm, finger sucking, good girl use, break, bottom/receiving!reader, dom!vi, dom!caitlyn

|| Summary; when the girls get reader to their room, they have some fun.

Requests closed!

Started; November 26th

Finished; November 27th

~~~

It wasn't long before the two girls had you following them to their bedroom. Caitlyn holding your hand as she brought you along, a subtle smug look across her face while Vi couldn't stop smirking. Before you knew it you were up against the door. Caitlyn's lips against your neck, Vi's body against yours. They knew this was your first. So they planned ahead with you to go slow, making sure you had a safe word and that this was what you really wanted. If at any point you decided to stop, they wouldn't hesitate to let you. This was all happening on your grounds.

Caitlyn placed gentle kisses to your neck. Sucking until a mark was left while Vi brought your lips onto her own. You couldn't help but moan from the different sensations. The sound sending vibrations through Vi's lips that made her shudder. She parted the kiss and gave Caitlyn a subtle look. They seemed to almost make some agreement and the next thing you knew, Vi was picking you up. Carrying you to their bed where she set you down. Caitlyn laid next to you. Helping you out of your clothes, the soft look never leaving her eyes. Taking in the sight of your naked appearance.

"You're beautiful," She murmured. Leaning forwards to suck your breasts. The nipple gently rolling between her teeth. You gasped at the feeling. Back instinctively arching into her. Wanting more. It was insane how good she could make you feel. Just from the breasts alone. You'd been so focused on Caitlyn that you didn't realize what Vi was doing. Until you suddenly felt her tongue against your clit. Lapping at the wetness. Savouring the taste while her tongue danced in circles. Bringing waves of overwhelming, endless, pleasure through you. The two of them on you at once... was almost enough to make you cum then and there. And you nearly did. But you managed yo control it, hold it in.

That didn't last long, though. The moment Vi started adding her fingers you were done. The knot that had tightened itself in your stomach came undone. Despite your best efforts at keeping it together. Your pitch got louder, hands gripping the sheets. Lifting Caitlyn a bit when your back arched more. Caitlyn smirked against your skin. Her hand roaming down to your waist, gently pulling you down. Holding you still. "Shh, you're doing so well." Caitlyn praised. Her tone a murmur.

Vi lifted her head, licking the cum from her lips. Her finger pulling out of you and into your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you relaxed into it. Sucking her finger. The taste of yourself making you moan. Vi smirked and cupped your cheek with her other hand. "Such a good girl. Could you be any cuter?" Vi leaned forward. Taking her finger from your lips and instead capturing them in her own. The kiss bruising. Your lips trying to keep up with hers in a desperate, sloppy attempt.

As the kiss parted, you struggled a bit to catch your breath. Still overwhelmed from your orgasm. Caitlyn noticed before Vi and sat up, placing a hand to your stomach. "Hey, just breathe. Do you need water?" She asked, when you nodded she left the bed. Getting you water while Vi laid beside you. Watching you with concern in her eyes.

"Do you wanna stop here?" Vi asked and you shook your head. You didn't want to stop. It felt absolutely amazing. But you did need a break before they could do anymore to you.

"Just.. a break." You told her, her eyes softened and she held you close. Being the bigger spoon as her fingers trailed soft circles against your stomach.

"Take as long as you need." She whispered.

You definitely did. It was nearly twenty minutes before you were ready to go again. But the girls didn't mind. They wanted you comfortable.

[gaza-giving-tree]

Imagine being forced to choose between feeding your starving children or putting a roof over their heads.

Images: Hossam Al-Qazzaz and his family live atop the ruins of their beloved home in Gaza, which was destroyed by the conflict.

@hanon-qazaz

@hanoon-gaza

Written by @visionsofaselfmademan (new blog @rumiandroses )

This is cruel reality for the Al-Qazzaz family in Gaza: Hossam, his wife Hanan, their four young children (Bashar, age 9; Hani, age 8; Diana, age 4; and Habiba, just 4 months old), and Hossam’s elderly parents (both in their seventies, one of whom was badly burned and requires constant care). Their lives were forever changed when their home was destroyed by war. Now, they live amidst the rubble of their former life, sheltered only by a flimsy tent that fails to protect them from roaming wild animals and the ever-present threat of violence. The winter rains soak their makeshift shelter, leaving them all cold and vulnerable.

Images: (Left) Baby Habiba cries from hunger, as the family cannot afford milk or even disposable diapers. (Right) Little Bashar has been bitten by rats that invaded the family's tent in the night.

The Al-Qazzaz family once dreamed of escaping Gaza to rebuild their lives in safety, but the costs of evacuation—estimated at €5,000 per person—are insurmountable. So far, their GoFundMe fundraiser hasn't raised even enough to get one of them to safety, let alone all eight.

Realizing that escape was out of reach for the moment, they shifted their focus to building a modest room amidst the ruins of their home. But even that small hope has proven unattainable. With donations coming in too slowly to make any substantial change to their living situation, and prices for food and basic necessities skyrocketing to astronomical heights, the donations to their GoFundMe campaign must now go toward survival, leaving no resources for rebuilding or dreaming of a safer future.

My name is Bethany Grace. (Though some of you might also know me as "Liam.") I am the founder of The Gaza Giving Tree. I have encountered so many amazing people since I began this project, but the Al-Qazzaz family's humility and selflessness, despite overwhelming hardship, have earned my deepest respect. They ask for nothing beyond the bare essentials—food, shelter, and safety for their children.

This second campaign was not their idea (though I DID get their blessing to create it!). This precious family was fully prepared to patiently struggle on their own, and use their GoFundMe donations to merely survive.

NO FAMILY should have to endure this. NO PARENT should have to decide between feeding their child or giving them a safe place to sleep. The Al-Qazzaz family deserves more than this relentless struggle for survival. They deserve a chance to rebuild their lives, to live with dignity, and to dream of a future free from fear.

That’s why I have created a separate Chuffed campaign for them, dedicated solely to raising enough money to either help them evacuate to safety, or rebuild a secure home. This gives the Al-Qazzaz family a designated fund to help save for their future, while allowing them to continue to survive on the GoFundMe campaign in the interim.

Every donation, no matter how small, moves the Al-Qazzaz family closer to the stability and peace they so desperately need. If you cannot donate, sharing their story can make an enormous difference, as it can help their story reach people who can assist financially.

Let’s show the Al-Qazzaz family that they are not alone in their struggle. Let’s give them the chance to dream, to rebuild, and to live with the dignity that EVERY HUMAN BEING DESERVES.

Thank you for reading, caring, and keeping their voices alive. Together, we can make a difference.

You can donate to the Al-Qazzaz family's Chuffed campaign [HERE].

You can also donate to the Al-Quzzaz family's original GoFundMe campaign [HERE].

This campaign has been vetted by @gazavetters and is (#287) on their list of verified campaigns.

[luvergirl-535]

meet cute, but worse

part - 1

word count - 5.1k

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

c/w - alcohol, throwup, mostly chaos lol. very very unserious.

a/n - my first piece in all lowercase letters and tell me why it was easier to write that way😔. anyway will release the other part to this before releasing anything else. can’t tell you when that will be, i’m booked and busy for awhile but i lowkey love this so i wanna keep writing sooner rather than later! based off this prompt 🙂‍↕️

(also, live reacts and feedback are very much appreciated 😛)

(also also, very unedited)

this night could not possibly get any worse.

with a face of ruined makeup, a lost wallet, and a chlorine-soaked designer dress, azzi fudd really begins regretting her decision to come on this cruise with chad at all.

especially considering chad—aka the guy who convinced her to come on the cruise, aka her boyfriend, aka the man who’s supposed to stay by her side and lead her through crowded rooms with a steady hand on her waist and buy all her drinks—has officially disappeared. and now here she is, standing outside the women’s bathroom wondering where her boyfriend, who’d promised to wait for her, has gone.

furious, azzi whips her phone out of her purse (both of which are still miraculously on her person, despite her horrible luck) and immediately dials her boyfriend’s number. if he doesn’t pick up on the first goddamn ring, azzi swears to god she’ll—

it goes to voicemail.

with a frustrated grunt, azzi sends him a quick, casual text: if you don’t get your ass to the room right fucking now i swear to god chad we’re over.

satisfied with that, azzi stuffs her phone back into her purse, runs a hand over her wet braids, and begins to make the treacherous journey back to her suite.

it’s midnight, which means all the minors on the ship have officially been sent to their rooms and all the adults have ventured to their various adult activities: r-rated comedy shows, drunken karaoke, and, for the younger adults, the nightclub.

it’s an indoor club, with strobe lights and surprisingly good music and amazing drinks. there’s a pool, and a bar, and some nice bathrooms.

it is this very bathroom—and this very nightclub—that azzi makes her way out of. it’s slow, and difficult, the club packed with inebriated bodies who seem determined to keep her from leaving. as she moves through the crowd, a few people give her strange looks, or stop to ask her why her dress is sopping wet. she ignores them all. if she didn’t, she’s not sure she’d have nice things to say.

she’s nearly at the exit when there’s a commotion directly behind her. against her better judgment, azzi pauses, turning to see where the loud, rambunctious noises are coming from. she regrets her decision to do so almost immediately—it’s nothing interesting, really. just a group of tall, clearly wasted girls playfully fighting with each other. based off the way they’re (badly) singing, they obviously know the song blasting over the speakers. almost all of them have drinks in their hands and azzi can’t help but roll her eyes at the way they’re hyping each other up.

even looking at them has azzi overwhelmed—she needs to get out of here. needs to get back to the comfort of her room, where she can pull herself together and chew chad out and get a good night’s sleep.

but, just as she resumes her exit, a body slams directly into her. she’s knocked off guard and absolutely helpless in the heels she stupidly put on earlier this evening, and she lets herself fall back into the rambunctious girls with something akin to resignation. this is it. this is my life now.

luckily, a few hands shoot out to brace her as she tumbles directly into their dance session. this means she doesn’t land on her ass, which is a good thing, but it also means she is currently being touched by, like, 12 different hands, which is a very, very bad sensory thing.

once she’s righted, azzi rips herself away from their grasps as calmly as anyone can rip away from something, and finds herself in the midst of their little circle.

“my bad,” she calls over the music, hugging her arms around herself in order to keep from bumping into any more sweaty bodies. “i got pushed and—“

“you okay, girlypop?” one of the girls says.

“yeah, that looked scary!” another younger, wide-eyed girl yells over the music.

azzi tries to reassure them, but they all start talking over one another at once, asking if she’s okay and apologizing and wondering if she wants to hang out for a drink and azzi backs up, imperceptibly, trying to escape from these drunk girls—but she bumps into someone else in doing so.

from then on, it happens in slow motion.

azzi turns around.

she catches a vision of blonde hair, someone slightly taller than she is.

she prepares herself to mumble an apology.

and then, with horrifyingly little warning, blondie bends over and pukes.

directly. on. azzi’s. shoes.

“oh my god!” azzi can’t help but cry, jumping back instinctively, and the other girls yell out with her.

“oh, shit!” the girl from earlier—one of the shorter of the group, the one with twists—jumps over to stand in between the puker and azzi. she puts her hand on the still bent-over woman’s shoulders. “boogs! what the hell!”

azzi thinks the woman might mumble in response, but she can’t hear much at all over the music. and she’s also a little preoccupied staring in shock at the bile on her feet.

with a sigh, the other girl spins around to face azzi. “i am so sorry, girl. she been acting crazy all night and honestly—we shouldn’t’a even let her out.” she tries for a good-natured laugh, but azzi just stares at her, mouth agape.

“right, guys?” the girl continues nervously, but then looks around and apparently realizes that the rest of her friend group have ditched her to take care of the awkward moment. she makes an offended noise. “fake bitches,” she mumbles.

with a little shuffle, the girl comes to stand beside her obviously ill friend, grabbing her by the shoulder and patting her on the chest. “so, uh, p, i get you’re going through it right now, baby, i really do. but you just threw up on this nice lady so i think maybe we should focus on one thing at a time.”

it’s only then that azzi’s attacker finally straightens up. her hands are placed firmly over her stomach, and her face is streaked with mascara—not to mention her complexion is slightly green.

but azzi recognizes her instantly.

and, despite the fact this girl is obviously not in her right mind, she recognizes azzi, too.

“paige?” azzi says incredulously, at the same time paige slurs, “oh, no.”

the other girl looks between them a little nervously, unsure of what to do next.

except, no, she’s not the other girl. she’s kk arnold, azzi recognizes now. guard at uconn.

and those other girls…fuck. azzi replays the memory in her mind, now with their faces attached to her resurfaced knowledge. they weren’t just some group of college girls.

azzi has had a run-in with the uconn women’s basketball team.

and she’s just been thrown up on by none other than paige fucking bueckers.

so much for getting a good nights sleep tonight.

—————————————

“so, remind me how y’all know each other?” kk says as they walk up to paige’s room. she has an arm around paige’s waist, fully supporting her, and she doesn’t look all too fazed by tonight’s events. azzi gets the feeling paige throwing up on people might be a regular event. which is just…awful.

paige answers with a groan.

sighing, azzi rubs her temple, trying desperately to ignore the smell of sick wafting up from her feet. “usa basketball. we played together.”

“oh,” kk responds. “you play?”

azzi doesn’t answer, just waits. paige elbows kk. kk says, “ow!” paige says, “kk, get your head out of your ass and look at her.”

so, kk does. she looks at her for the first time since they left the club, now under the bright hallway lights rather than the dim, strobing club ones. and it’s only a moment before realization dawns on her face. “oh, shoot! paige!” she stops dead in her tracks, letting go of paige to face her. “girl, that’s azzi fudd!”

“i know, kk,” paige mumbles.

kk turns to azzi. “you say y’all played together, what, 2018?”

“2017,” azzi and paige correct at the same time. azzi tries to meet her eyes, but paige has had her head hung low this entire time. she’s either sick or deeply disturbed or both. likely both.

they continue walking, and azzi recalls her time at camp. the memories are a little hazy, faded as all memories are. but she remembers paige—how could she not? the only girl who really gave her a run for her money, the only girl who met her competitiveness head-on. they played—well, they played amazingly together, oddly enough. azzi remembers she never really wanted to talk to the girl, who seemed loud and arrogant and overwhelming. but their chemistry on the court, without ever speaking to each other, was incredible.

she does have one very clear memory: the plane ride back. she’d been sitting in her seat, ready for the flight, when paige had hesitated beside her while walking down the aisle.

azzi had looked up, curious. “hi.”

paige’s cheeks had flushed bright red, which seemed completely out of character for the girl azzi had thought she was. “oh, uh. hey.”

azzi stayed silent.

paige scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “hey, i, um.” it looked like she was trying to convince herself to say something—almost like she was building courage to say it. a little flicker of something bubbled in azzi’s chest. anticipation, maybe? she doesn’t know; she’s never been able to figure out what that feeling meant.

all she knows is she felt disappointment when paige had sighed defeatedly and said, “can i put my bag in your overhead?”

she’d nodded. paige had said thank you. and they’ve never spoken again.

“yeah, yeah,” kk waves them off, hauling paige the rest of the way down the hall. “whatever. basically, i’m tryna say, it’s been seven years since then, right?”

azzi presses the up button, then leans against the wall. “yeah…”

“well, paige has had a massive crush on you for about eight of them.”

in an instant, kk is turned around, paige’s front pressed to her back as they lowkey wrestle. paige has a hand slapped over kk’s mouth, but that doesn’t stop her evil cackling from coming through.

paige glances over her shoulder. “she’s lying.”

azzi watches the commotion, and thinks such a scene wouldn’t have been made if kk was really lying. “uh-huh.”

“serious,” paige insists. it’s the most emotion azzi has heard from her tonight.

“okay.” the door dings open, and azzi sucks in a deep breath, being the first to step inside. “well, uh…”

kk wrangles out of paige’s grip, walking somewhat sassily into the elevator. “yeah, let’s go. p!”

paige glowers at them across the threshold.

“c’mon, girly. get in here.”

they have to hold the doors open, but eventually, and not looking particularly happy about it, paige steps inside.

azzi begins to regret agreeing to go to her room with them.

————————————

“ok, take those shoes off, stink,” kk instructs as soon as they enter paige’s suite. azzi doesn’t hesitate to comply, slipping out of her heels without looking at them, careful not to dip her toes in any throw-up. although she’s sure there are more than a few fangirls who’d sell their soul for some paige bueckers bodily fluids.

once she’s out of them, she hovers by the door awkwardly, and kk and paige exchange a glance. they obviously have some sort of silent conversation within the second-long look, because it has kk laughing. “you’re funny.”

“please,” paige murmurs.

“hell, no. you puke it, you nuke it.”

“that doesn’t rhyme, stupid-head.”

azzi watches them, a small, amused smile coming over her face despite herself.

“wait, what?” kk says, leaning her ear towards Paige.

“i said—“

“ever,” kk interrupts with a wide grin. “now go nuke those nasty shoes, for real.” kk glances at azzi and gives her a once-over before saying, “and get fudd-fudd some dry clothes while you’re at it.”

leaning down, paige grabs the shoes by the heels and grumbles something as she disappears into the bedroom. once she’s gone, kk ushers azzi further inside, leading her into the kitchen. “so,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “you in love with her yet, or what?”

azzi scoffs. “she’s not exactly charming.”

“oh, no, she real charming.” kk glances at the closed bedroom door, then leans forward, motioning for azzi to step closer. when she does, kk lowers her voice. “she just gets nervous around you.”

“i haven’t talked to paige in years,” azzi says, a little confused. a crush, she understands—many people have had crushes on azzi before. but no way paige gets nervous around her, when they’re never even around each other to begin with.

“nah, but you notice how we’ve never won a game against y’all?” kk asks.

“yeah.” of course azzi’s noticed. most people have—uconn is the team to beat, but in the four years azzi’s been in college, they’ve never once won against ucla.

“ever wonder why?”

“because we’re better than you,” azzi responds all too quickly.

kk makes an unamused face at her. “no, it’s because paige is too busy having wet fantasies about you instead of playing the damn game.“

azzi waves this off. “excuses.”

“i’m being serious.” kk nudges her in the arm, then pulls her a little closer, once again lowering her voice. “and you wanna know something else?”

azzi sighs like she doesn’t, but really, she does—she’s always been too nosey for her own good. “tell me.”

“every girl p’s ever hooked up with is a mixed baller with curly hair and brown eyes. and if she has dimples, paige lets her stay the night.”

azzi downright barks out a laugh at this one. “i’m starting to think you’re making all this shit up.”

“just watch,” kk says cryptically. “you’ll see.”

azzi wants to ask more—like, is it confirmed that paige has wet fantasies about her?—but the bedroom door opens and azzi turns her head to see paige standing in the doorway, a pair of clothes bundled in her arms. azzi does her best to keep a straight face but she must look a little guilty because paige narrows her eyes at them. “what were y’all talking about?”

“how i been constipated lately,” kk says a little too quickly. azzi valiantly keeps her expression neutral. “azzi was giving me advice.”

azzi nods somberly. paige looks borderline mortified, which is not a look azzi ever thought she’d see on someone like her. “can you try to be cool for once?” she asks kk.

“you’re the one who puked on her,” kk says. “if she could get scared away, she wouldn’t be here.”

paige sighs, stepping closer, into the kitchen with them. her cheeks are tinged pink, from alcohol or kk’s antics or—maybe something else, azzi thinks as paige avoids eye contact with her while handing over the pair of clothes. “uh, here.”

“thanks,” azzi says. she reaches for the clothes, letting her right hand just brush paige’s own before pulling back, watching for a reaction. there’s not much, but when paige’s hands are free, she shakes out the right one as if she’s been shocked.

azzi makes a little mental note. interesting. very interesting.

“you can change, um, back there,” paige says, throwing a thumb back over her shoulder before scratching awkwardly at her neck. “or, like, wherever, i’on care.”

azzi’s eyebrows raise on their own accord. paige opens her mouth, then closes it, then says, “i mean, you could also go to the bathroom or sum’. obviously you shouldn’t change, like, here. that’d be—weird.“

“riiiight,” azzi drawls, a small, amused smile playing on her face.

“so, uh, yeah.” paige sidesteps, motioning for azzi to pass. “go ‘head.”

——————————————

once she’s on her own, she takes it in—the privacy, the quiet. it’s been a long fucking night. she cannot wait to get to her own room and just sleep.

well, she’ll need a shower first. shower, then sleep. or maybe she’ll even indulge in a bath. the mere thought of it has her shoulders relaxing.

but then, her phone buzzes inside her purse. and her shoulders are tense all over again, because that’s got to be chad—texting her back thirty minutes late—and since when does she want to deal with chad?

a bit reluctantly, she pulls her phone out of her purse. it’s only at five percent and so she ignores all her other notifications, going straight to she and chad’s messages.

sure enough, he’s just responded to her last text: sorry baby, got caught up lmfaooo. you tryna fuck tn?

and then, sry for pushing u in the pool fr

waiting for you in da room

well, fuck.

that’s the first thing that crosses azzi’s mind. because, after the shit he’s pulled tonight—and every other night in the two months they’ve been together, honestly—they’re over. she’s done. which means she’ll either have to fight with him for their room for the rest of the trip, or sleep by the goddamn pool. and confrontation has never been her thing.

tossing her phone onto the bed, azzi discards of her purse, as well, before reaching behind herself to unzip her dress. her day might have been shit, but at least she finally gets to take this stupid dress off.

she fumbles a little before grabbing hold of the zipper. she pulls, and it gives about an inch before abruptly stopping.

furrowing her eyebrows, azzi pinches the zipper harder between her fingertips. pull, give. stop.

“shit,” azzi murmurs. this time, when she tries again, it doesn’t give at all, just says firmly stuck in place.

she already knows pulling it over her head or down her hips is out of the question—the dress shrunk like two sizes in the water. no way this thing is making it over her hips or shoulders without some leeway. so now here she is, stranded in the middle of paige bueckers’ room with a soaking wet dress and a broken zipper.

she considers marching out of this place without another word, going to her own room, fighting briefly with chad over it, and then cutting the damn thing off. but then she’d have to walk, shoeless, through the entire ship. and confrontation still isn’t her thing.

sighing, azzi tucks away her pride and goes over to the door, peeking her head out. the girls are still in the kitchen. paige’s back is turned, but azzi can see kk, and she has an amused smile on her face as they speak in hushed whispers. paige sounds mad about something.

azzi clears her throat.

paige visibly tenses, and kk’s smile only grows as she slowly turns around, looking very much afraid.

“uh,” azzi says, unsure what to make of the whole ordeal. “my zipper is stuck. i need help.”

god, please let kk volunteer, please let kk volunteer, no seriously, please let—

“paige volunteers as tribute,” kk says, shoving paige forward.

paige chokes. “no i don’t!”

“least you can do after throwing up on her,” kk says.

“that’s not fair,” paige argues. azzi would beg to differ, but she’s keeping her mouth firmly shut in the hopes of avoiding a potentially very awkward situation.

kk raises an eyebrow. paige sighs. then, resolve washes over her features, and azzi lets out a disappointed breath. fuck.

“okay, fine. sure.” paige is grumbling, eyes downcast as she heads toward the bedroom, and azzi shoots kk a dirty look before closing the door behind the two of them.

paige stands in the middle of the room, playing nervously with her fingers. azzi lets them sit in the awkward silence for a few moments before realizing paige is waiting for further direction.

“uh, yeah,” azzi says, stepping up to her before turning around. she grabs once again at the zipper, pulling it to show paige how stuck it is. “it’s not budging.”

paige takes a step closer, and azzi’s entire body tenses at the proximity. she doesn’t dare look over her shoulder, but she can feel paige, the drunken warmth radiating off her body, and she can hear her breathing. it’s without warning that paige’s fingers come to fiddle with the zipper, her knuckles brushing between azzi’s shoulder blades, and her body thrums with…something.

she is not usually like this when somebody has a crush on her. but she’s fresh off a self-proclaimed breakup and maybe that’s what’s making her feel so inexplicably tense.

“yeah,” paige says after giving the zipper a few tugs. “it definitely looks broken.”

azzi doesn’t say anything. every time she thinks she’s hit rock bottom, something else gets thrown at her. first the pool, then the throw-up, then a broken zipper. and through it all, chad. none of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for him, azzi thinks bitterly.

“we can try getting it off without unzipping it,” paige suggests. azzi turns her head to the side, not enough to see paige behind her, but enough to try and gain some composure. because paige implying that they will both pull this dress off of her leaves her warm.

“i already tried,” azzi says instead of agreeing, which is something she weirdly wants to do. despite knowing the dress won’t come off if it’s zipped, she wouldn’t mind letting paige try. maybe letting her pull the straps down her shoulders, or even lift the skirt over her hips…

okay, azzi. snap the fuck out of it.

in an attempt to salvage the situation, azzi blurts, “scissors.”

paige chokes. azzi closes her eyes in a silent acceptance of defeat. the universe is definitely out for her.

“wha—?” paige starts, but azzi doesn’t let her finish before whirling around with a casual smile, “i meant, we might need to get scissors. like, to cut the dress off.”

“oh,” paige says, her mouth forming a little ‘O’ of understanding. “okay. yeah. uh, you sure you wanna cut it?”

the thought of trying to save this dress is almost laughable. it may have been expensive, but it was also a gift from the very same man who ruined it by pushing her into the pool. “yeah,” she says. “positive.”

paige makes a face at the dark tone of azzi’s voice, but luckily doesn’t question it. “oo-kay,” she drawls, turning to the nightstand and rummaging through one of the drawers.

“so, uh,” paige says as she searches, “how’d your dress get like that, anyway?”

soaked. she means soaked. “got pushed into the pool,” azzi says.

“oh, shoot.” paige glances over her shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. “by who?”

“my boyfriend,” azzi says, nearly shuddering at the words. then, pleasantly, she remembers he’s not her boyfriend anymore—even though he doesn’t know that yet. “well, my ex-boyfriend.”

“your boyfriend pushed you in the pool?” paige asks. she sounds a little outraged, and, upon finding the scissors, she spins around with them in hand.

“ex-boyfriend,” azzi corrects. “i mean, as of a few minutes ago.”

“well, shit.” paige walks back over to her. “fuck him.”

azzi’s first reaction is to get defensive—she’s spent two months month defending chad to all her friends—but she doesn’t have to do that anymore, so instead she nods decisively. “yeah, fuck him.”

it’s then that paige smiles—the first time azzi’s seen it tonight—and it’s this shy, timid smile, so different from the overconfident, giddy one she gets in games. it’s clear she’s horrible at hiding her little crush and usually that would ick azzi out, but on paige it’s almost…endearing?

and for some reason, butterflies flutter in her tummy at the sight of it.

“okay,” azzi says, turning around in an attempt to crush the moment. “go ahead.”

“should i just cut along the zipper?” paige asks. azzi nods, motioning back towards herself. “do your worst.”

“alright,” paige says, a hint of doubt in her voice. she starts cutting nonetheless. azzi feels nothing but satisfaction at the first snip—she’s glad to be rid of this thing. when she gets home, she’ll burn everything else that fuckass man gave her, too. paige is, in a way, doing god’s work by cutting it.

“so,” paige says as she works. “what’s your boyfriend’s name?”

azzi winces. “uh, chad.”

paige pauses her snipping. “for real?”

“yeah,” azzi says sheepishly, before once again saying, “and he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“right,” paige replies, tone thick with humor. “so, chad pushed you into the pool while you were wearing this nice dress. and then you broke up with him?”

“well…” azzi trails off—leave it to paige bueckers to make her feel dumb. “i mean, he disappeared on me afterwards, and then he didn’t respond to my texts until like ten minutes ago, so…”

“so he pushed you into the pool, acted crazy, and then you broke up with him.” paige says it like a statement, which makes azzi really hesitant to disclose the whole story.

“i mean, yeah,” she mutters.

paige picks up on the way the sentence lilts guiltily. “bruh.”

“i guess i haven’t actually broken up with him,” azzi is quick to say, paige’s judgmental gaze burning into the skin of her back. “but i did it in my head.”

“in your…” paige must think better of asking more questions, because she just sighs before pulling her hands away from azzi’s dress. “whatever, girl. i’m done.”

azzi turns to face her. “stop that.”

“stop what?”

“judging me.”

paige raises her eyebrows. “i’ll stop when you actually break up with him.”

it’s supposed to come as a joke, but for some reason, azzi takes it as a challenge. almost like she’d do anything for paige’s approval. which is stupid, because paige is clearly an unexpectedly dorky lesbian who just so happens to be hot and athletic.

(it won’t take long for azzi to realize she has a very specific taste in women.)

“fine,” azzi says. and then she, who has never been one to take life advice from virtual strangers, marches to the bed, grabs her phone, and navigates once again to chad’s contact. she tells herself it’s just so she’ll be able to sleep in their room tonight rather than avoiding him the rest of the trip. it’s not really true.

he answers on the fourth ring (typical). it’s nothing but a simple, “yo.” she hates him.

paige puts her hands on her hips, clearly a little surprised that azzi’s actually doing this, but daring her to see it through nonetheless. azzi switches to speakerphone. “chad,” she says, a little unsure of how to go about this. all of her previous breakups have been mutual, cordial. this…

oh, she hates him.

“wassup, baby.” he has the audacity to sound a little annoyed at being bothered, and azzi takes a deep breath to compose herself.

“chad, we gotta talk.”

there’s a long, dramatic sigh on the other end of the line. “is this about the pool? because if it’s about the pool it’s gotta wait ‘till tomorrow. i’m too tired for that shit.”

paige’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline, before furrowing in disbelief, her mouth dropping open a little.

azzi just nods.

“asshole,” paige mouths.

“actually,” azzi says, “i’m breaking up with you.”

silence. then, a bark of laughter. “yeah. aight.”

“i’m being serious.”

“whatever you say, azzi.” he sounds equal-parts amused, equal-parts irritated. “look, just come back up to the room before it gets too late. you know i’ll make it up to you.”

paige sticks her tongue out, pointing a finger into her mouth and gagging.

azzi rolls her eyes. “you wanna know something, chad?”

“what,” he says, barely interested anymore. (he has the attention span of a goldfish with adhd.)

“we’ve been together for how long?”

“uhh…” chad drawls.

“two months,” she informs him. “and in that amount of time, how many times have we fucked?”

“shit, i’on know,” he says, sounding a little more amused now, like he’s in for a treat. he has no idea.

“a lot, chad. and do you have any idea how many orgasms i’ve had in that amount of time?”

dead silence. she almost wonders if he’s hung up. paige is looking at her like she’s crazy, or maybe like she’s an angel descended from heaven itself. azzi focuses back on the phone. “zero. you have made me come literally zero times.”

another laugh, this time more awkward. “azzi, c’mon, bro—“

“so no, i would not like you to make it up to me tonight, or ever,” she continues, gaining a little momentum now. “your tiny-ass dick could never. and if you don’t get the fuck up outta that room so i can sleep tonight, then i’m—“

“hollup, you’re being serious?” chad interrupts.

“yes,” she says—he never did take her seriously. “so you need to find somewhere else to stay because—“

“hell nah,” chad interrupts once again, this time sounding straight-up affronted. “i’m not giving you the room just because you’re deciding to go batshit on me. you can have it when you come to your senses tomorrow, baby.”

rage seethes, hot and quiet, through azzi’s very marrow. she hates being condescended. hates being spoken down to. hates not being believed. she is going to tear his ass in two.

she glances up at paige. paige has now found a seat on the bed and is watching with wide eyes, looking like she needs a bag of popcorn. looking undeniably fine, somehow, even after throwing up on azzi and then proceeding to have the most awkwardly obvious crush on her. looking undeniably edible, to be completely frank.

and then—

oh, and then.

“fine,” azzi says, holding the speaker right up to her mouth so chad won’t miss a single word of what she’s about to say. “don’t give me the room. i got somebody else to stay with.”

“yeah? who?” chad asks. she can picture his stupid smile as he says it.

“paige,” azzi says, ignoring the quizzical look paige is sending her. “an old friend.”

“paige?” he says, clearly confused.

“yeah,” she continues. “and if you don’t give me that room back…” she avoids paige’s gaze for this part, or else she wouldn’t have the balls to do it, “then i’m gonna stay here. and i’m gonna get fucked by paige bueckers.”

there’s a sharp, nervous laugh. “you’re lying through your fucking teeth, azzi.”

“wanna find out?” azzi asks, hoping he doesn’t call her on her bluff.

“yeah, actually,” he says. “i’m using the room tonight. and let’s see if you’ve fucked paige bueckers by morning.”

with that, a click. the line is dead.

paige’s jaw is on the floor.

azzi squeezes her eyes shut.

okay, so azzi stands corrected. the night has, officially, gotten worse.

[httpswritings]

love is patient, love is kind

There were days when dealing with ADHD was not easy.

You had mastered some techniques for your daily life, but when something happened, something actually very small, didn't go your way, you’d be in the middle of a crisis without even noticing it.

Alexia had been nothing but supportive.

When you started dating and opened up to her about your disorder, she didn't really get what you meant, she'll never do, but throughout your relationship, your girlfriend made the effort to educate herself to understand how she could help you.

The constant need for change, the extra time in the morning to wake up, the breakdown after a small issue, the hyper focus on one task…

Alexia, at first, observed you, your mannerisms, your needs, everything.

Then, she asked you, and you informed her.

When you still lived in a smaller house and she’d train in a room, the music she played at a high level made you so sensitive to the point of being irritated and having the need to cry.

Sometimes, you gave her some sharp answers, leaving her wondering if she had done something wrong, thinking this was the best way to manage your frustration, so you didn't explode in front of her, but Alexia felt quite upset and lost.

She told you about it, and when you finally told her what was happening, both of you felt relieved.

Alexia ended up working out when you weren't home, and if you were, you'd wear your earphones, that blocked any noise.

It took Alexia some time to get used to your sudden behaviour.

Sometimes, you'd spend an amazing week together but suddenly, something not going your way would make you bottle up. Thankfully, Alexia had mastered her approach.

Some days, she would come towards you and hug you tightly.

Sometimes you’d cry in her arms, sometimes you'd stay still, and for you, that was more than enough.

Although there were moments where a hug, a kiss or any kind of physical attention felt agonizing, and you made sure that Alexia, while respecting your boundaries, knew that you weren´t rejecting her love; you just needed to be loved differently.

But there was a moment that changed everything.

A moment where you understood Alexia’s love for you.

As both of you walked through the streets of Barcelona on a warm afternoon, everything seemed to get louder. Actually, very loud, as if every sound was taking place next to your ears.

Alexia managed to notice the way you tweaked your body and your quick glances in all directions.

She stopped you, pulled out your headphones from your bag, and placed them in your ears.

Suddenly, everything went silent, and your only focus was in her eyes, which held a mixture of tenderness and worry.

Your eyes got watery, and she became more worried, but you reassured her you weren't crying because of sadness, but the great and overwhelming sensation of being loved the way you were.

There was no need to mask your behaviour because there was no reason to hide something that had always been part of who you were.

[ur-sick-and-married]

CHAMPIONS • PAIGE BUECKERS

CONTAINS: drinking, afab/female reader, somewhat sad, dom!Paige, airplane sex (yeah you read that right), public sex, established relationship, pet names, praise, banter, reader on the receiving end, not proofread, use of “y/n”

SUMMARY: your team wins the national championship, so you and your girlfriend have to celebrate somehow, right?

A/N: I don’t usually write smut but we gotta celebrate this natty. I apologize if this sucks.

There’s nothing quite like it.

The clock ticking, the crowd slowly getting louder, teammates practically shaking with excitement.

And when the clock finally stops…

You can’t decide if it feels like the world stops spinning, or if it speeds up, whirling faster with victory. An every day person typically has never heard that much screaming. The sheer force of the other girls feels like a bulldozer. It’s overwhelming, but so joyous. If your head exploded right then and there from the stimulation, you’d die happy.

It was hard to make sense of things for a minute, besides the fact that you’d won the fucking championship. Then you felt her. She practically slammed right into you, almost knocking you over. Not that she’d let you fall.

“Y/N!” Paige yelled over all the noise, her voice right in your ear as you embraced.

“We did it, Paige!” You exclaimed. “We did it!”

“You were amazing!” She grinned.

“Did you see yourself?!” You responded.

It was only a matter of time before reporters and family members pulled you apart. You managed small hugs and smiles and meaningful glances. Only after the confetti, trophy, questions, and ESPN going onto whatever event they had to film next, did you see her again. Just like before, she tugged you into her arms, and held you for as long as she could, while teammates and their family lingered. You both knew anyone could be watching, taking videos of you, but you didn’t care. You had won the literal national championship, and you wanted to hold the girl you did it with.

It was the little moments like that that you tried to savour. Soon, they would be rare to come by, with Paige about to be drafted. You would still see her as much as possible, of course, but it would still be very different.

“We get a parade!” Paige exclaimed when the team was lined up with a banner. “We get to get drunk!”

And you…sort of did.

You had a very limited time to celebrate in Tampa. You quickly found yourself on the team's private jet, already preparing to fly home to Connecticut. You nor Paige had drank much. Apparently it was bad to be drunk on a plane. A few drinks didn’t hurt, though. It was enough to feel a bit intoxicated, giggly almost. Seated next to each other on the plane, she still had that damn net around her neck. Everyone was decked out in apparel announcing the win.

Soon enough, most of the others were sleeping.

The airplane was dark. The strong overhead lights had been turned off, and now there was a calming blue light that made your skin look somewhat purple.

You were exhausted, achy, somewhat sad that the main event was over. But you felt something else, too. That desire, need, that Paige could easily make flare, just by looking at you right. Which is what she was doing. You were sitting next to each other on the plane. Thank God that there were only two seats in each row. You had a leg tossed over her lap, your back against the window. She always let you have whatever you wanted, even the window seat. She was absentmindedly massaging your thigh, since you’d complained about it being sore. And she was fully, no shame, just gazing at you, watching the way your chest rose with each breath, your eyelashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked, the way you’d lock eyes with her, only to look away seconds later. You were completely dressed, even wearing multiple layers, but you felt as if you were naked. Another thing she could do with just her eyes; make you feel exposed and vulnerable. She knew she did it, too. She used it to her advantage. Whenever you were covering something up, she’d look right at you, eyebrows slightly raised, and you’d crumble. Like if you were lying about eating one day when you definitely hadn’t. She’d give you the look and a few minutes later you found yourself eating a snack. Or if something was upsetting you, and you lied and said nothing was. Yeah, you guessed it. The look, and suddenly you were in tears, telling her what was wrong as she rubbed your back.

She could also get away with a lot. Whether it was a certain takeout food she wanted, or it was bending you over the kitchen counter, she would get it with that fucking look. Maybe it was the blue eyes, the occasional smirk, that did it. It just drove you mad. She was like a puppy begging for a treat. How could you refuse such a sweet thing?

And that exact thing was happening on the plane, which was causing the familiar heat in your abdomen.

“What?” You whispered.

“What do you mean?” She hummed mischievously.

“What do you want?” You sighed.

“I never said there was something I want.” She shrugged.

You rolled your eyes at her antics. “Paige-“

“I know, I know,” she whispered, smirking. “There is something I want. I guess you can read me well, hm?”

“It’s hard to not.” You scoffed.

She smiled, fingers drumming on your leg. Dammit. The drumming was sending sparks up your thigh.

“You’re gonna have to wait until we get home.” You muttered, sounding like you were reprimanding a child.

“Wait for what?” She said.

“Stop playing dumb.” You grumbled, swatting at her hand.

She grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. “I just don’t understand what you’re referring to, baby. So…wait for what?”

You huffed. The only way she’d move in is if you gave in. There was a part of you that wanted to go to sleep.

“For us to…you know…do things.” You whispered. You were praying that the other girls were out cold.

“Do things?” She muttered. “Like…watch TV? Nap? Get food?”

You suppressed an annoyed groan, and leaned in closer, to whisper in her ear. “You’ll have to wait until we get home to have sex.”

She bit her lip to hide a smirk, nodding.

“Oh, okay.” She said. “I understand now.”

You sat back in your seat with a huff, shaking your head at her. You thought she was giving up on the bit. She leaned back in her seat as well, and went back to rubbing your leg, seeming a little sleepy. You closed your eyes, knowing you needed to rest up for all the events that would be thrown at you.

Sooner or later, though, Paige shifted, turning towards you more. Her hand stopped on your thigh, her fingertips touching your inner thigh, almost tickling you. She started staring again. You could tell, even with your eyes closed. She reached out with her other hand and started playing with your hair, twirling it around a finger then pushing it out of your face. Then her hand drifted to your face. She cupped your face, thumb brushing against your cheek. It felt so nice and comforting, you couldn’t help but lean into her touch.

“So pretty.” Paige mumbled, making you smile.

While you were distracted by her compliment, the hand on your thigh moved to your stomach, gently untying the waistband of your sweatpants. Your eyes opened immediately, and you looked at her as if she was crazy. You stared each other down for a moment, her gaze challenging, your’s unsupportive.

“You can tell me to stop, you know.” She whispered eventually.

Your teammates would kill you if they ever found out what was happening. If word got back to the coaches…you were positively screwed.

But there it was. The fucking look.

You realized this may be the last chance to do something crazy like this with Paige, at least while you were both still Huskies. When would you be on the same team, flying back to your shared home, after winning a championship together, again? Would you ever even get close to that in the future?

So you didn’t tell her to stop. She smiled wildly, eyes full of excitement and desire. Her hand slipped into your pants, her knuckles grazing your navel. She flipped her hand so she could actually touch you, and only smiled wider when she felt your underwear.

“I’ve barely even done anything.” She teased quietly, making you blush.

She rubbed lazy circles over your underwear with her middle and ring finger. Usually, you’d be groaning, telling her how she could make you feel so good just from little touches. But you had to be quiet now. There were girls literally surrounding you.

“Can I keep going?” She whispered.

You nodded before you even thought it through. Not that you wanted her to stop.

She slipped those same two fingers under the fabric of your underwear, the digits immediately touching your core. You couldn’t stifle a small groan. Quickly, you turned your head, causing her hand on your face to cover your mouth, letting her skin absorb your small sounds of pleasure.

“Gotta be quiet.” She said under her breath. “I know you can do that for me.”

You sucked in a breath, focusing on staying silent. Paige went back to rubbing circles on you, now directly touching you.

People always joke about not being able to find the clit. But Paige knew your body as if it was her own. She knew which spots to avoid, which to give attention to. It only took her a millisecond to start playing with you, sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. You reached a shaky hand up to the one she had over your mouth, and tightened her grip. You were not about to wake your teammates up by moaning.

Paige was just grinning, almost amused. “Good job, baby…”

Her touches grew firmer, making your eyelids flutter. Your teeth grazed her palm, a little squeak escaping your throat. She suddenly maneuvered her thumb into your mouth, shocking you a little. She looked at you with questioning eyes, silently asking if this was alright. When you gently bit at her thumb in response, she went back to smiling.

As her touches grew more insistent, her gaze would quickly go from your face to her hand in your pants. She seemed somewhat amazed at what she was doing. You blamed the alcohol.

Before you knew it, a familiar pressure was building in your stomach. You bit her finger a little harder, and she looked up at your face. Your skin was flushed, eyes squeezed shut.

“Already?” Paige whispered.

You just nodded quickly, your chest heaving.

“Damn, babe.” She muttered, smiling wider, if that was even possible. “You’re easy to please. Or maybe I’m just really good at this.”

You pulled back from her thumb, enough to whisper breathlessly, “Don’t get cocky.”

“Sweetheart, that’s very hard.” She teased quietly. “My ego is the size of the moon right now. I’m a national fucking champion.”

“Would you stop talking?” You huffed, making her laugh quietly.

She shut her mouth, and focused on working you. It only took another minute or two for the pressure in your gut to be burning. She was quick to get a finger back in your mouth. You bit on it quickly, suppressing desperate gasps and whines. When you met her gaze, she just nodded, and that was all you needed to finally let go.

The pleasure brought relief. It was as if it coated your limbs, taking awake the ache. The burning in your abdomen vanished, now feeling satisfied. The anxiety about getting in trouble went silent. Your head was too busy, full of thoughts of how good it felt.

But it also, unexpectedly, brought tears to your eyes. As soon as the pleasure faded, all you could hear was your heart hammering, and that rushing in your ears as your eyes watered. You closed them quickly, hoping the tears would be absorbed.

Paige watched in awe. She loved seeing you like this, the way your legs would tremble, the way your breathing would get all shaky. She loved that she could make you do that.

She carefully slipped her hand out of your pants. “That’s enough for tonight, hm…?”

Only when you finally opened your eyes did she take that hand to her mouth to clean it off. She did the same with the other, wanting to consume as much of you as possible.

“You’re gross.” You whispered, voice shaking.

“You love it.” She scoffed quietly.

Once her hands were cleaned and dried, she took your face in her hands, and pulled you into a kiss. She could feel your lip trembling.

“Hey,” She said softly. “I could’ve done much better. Why…are you crying?”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to tell her. You didn’t want to admit you were thinking of being separated in just a few days.

“I’m drunk, Paige.” You muttered, forcing a smile. “And tired…today was a lot.”

She hummed in agreement, carefully wiping your eyes. “I’m tired, too. We should probably try to get some sleep.”

You nodded, and gave her another quick kiss. You shifted closer to her in the seat, and she rested her head on your shoulder.

You had to fight more tears. You couldn’t help but think “when is this gonna happen again?” Not knowing that felt terrible, because what you really did know was that everything would change soon, and you had no control over it.

“I love you so much, P…” You whispered. “Okay?”

“Yeah, I love you too.” She said sleepily, smiling a little.

She was asleep quickly. She always drifted off before you. You peeked down at her. Now you were the one gazing.

You found yourself missing Paige already, even though she was right in your arms, still wearing that god damn net around her neck.

[sugarcoated-lame]

Easy Like Sunday Morning | Joel Miller x Reader

pre-outbreak joel x reader

all of my works are 18+ only, minors dni!

Summary: You wake up before Joel and decide you want to take care of him.

or

giving 2003 pre-outbreak Joel some head on a sleepy Sunday morning

a/n: i was inspired by this post by the amazing @mrsmando 🤍 and her delicious joel thoughts that never fail to have me spiraling and swooning 🫠 if i had a nickel for every time i’ve written a joel fic about someone being woken up with some head, i’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice (sorry i had to lmfaoo). also this is probably the quickest thing i’ve ever written, so i’m sorry if it sucks!

wc: 2.8k

content warnings: no outbreak/pre-outbreak 2003 joel, kricket sucks at writing summaries we know this, smut, oral (m receiving), slightly rough oral, hair pulling, no physical description of reader except that her hair is long enough for joel to pull, pet names (darlin’, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl), no use of y/n, joel miller has a big dick because i said so, established relationship, somno (kinda? joel is like not really awake at the beginning of the smut), this is basically just smut :)

joel masterlist

dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍

⋆ . ˚ ✩ comments, reblogs, and feedback are greatly appreciated! ⋆ . ˚ ✩

Lazy Sunday mornings have become your favorite in the weeks since you moved in with Joel.

Nowhere to be, neither one of you has to get up before the sun and go to work. No rushing around to make sure Sarah gets to school on time — just sleep. It’s the one day a week both you and Joel get a chance to sleep in, to wake naturally without the shrill ringing of alarms, and just relish being wrapped up in the comfort of each other’s presence.

Eyes still shut as you begin to stir, your mind is only just waking up and the first thing you feel is warmth.

Warmth of the bright, golden Texas sun shining through Joel’s — well, now your — bedroom window and behind your closed lids. Warmth from the plush, gray comforter draped just over your calves, where it had been kicked down in the night in an attempt to curb the relentless, sticky summer heat.

You find yourself cocooned by the furnace-like warmth that is Joel as he lies on his back beside you — a warmth that would probably be overwhelming if it wasn’t such a comfort to you.

Your cheek is pressed to his broad chest, the steady beating of his heart a calming rhythm beneath your ear. Your torso flush against his side, you have an arm wrapped snug around his middle, and a leg draped over both of his. You and Joel both lay almost bare, each clothed in nothing but your underwear after the previous night’s activities — hot skin on hot skin.

When you finally let your eyes flutter open to the bright, morning light, you look up to find Joel still fast asleep and take a moment to admire the peaceful expression on his handsome face.

Long lashes fanning over his cheeks, his brows free of the worried crease that often rests between them, plush pink lips parted as he lets out quiet little snores, his strong chest slowly rising and falling, up and down beneath your cheek with each calming breath. Tanned skin warm and glistening with a light sheen of sweat, dark chocolate locks especially curly due to the humid Texas heat, a few sweaty strands clinging to his forehead.

Seeing Joel laid out like this only reminds you of the way he looked last night — all flushed beneath you, cheeks pink, head thrown back and brown eyes clenched shut in bliss as you hovered above him. Pulling quiet, deep grunts from his parted lips as you rode him, his big hands on your hips, guiding your movements as you lifted yourself up and down on his cock.

The reminder of just how full you felt with him inside you — of how goddamn good he makes you feel — has dampness forming beneath the thin fabric of your panties, thighs attempting to clench shut in search of friction to quell the wave of slick that’s building between your legs, though they’re unable to do so with Joel’s thick thigh slotted between them.

And, though you know Joel is still resting so peacefully beside you, and that you should probably let him sleep in for once, you can’t help it when you feel the sudden and urgent need to kiss him. To feel your lips on his skin.

These lazy Sunday mornings with Joel are your favorite because you know he’s always so busy, always working hard, always so stressed. And, that despite it all, he always takes such good care of you.

So, you want to take this opportunity, when he doesn’t have to be up for work, or take Sarah to school — and you know it’s a couple hours before she’ll be waking up — and you want to do something nice for him. Take care of Joel for once. To make him feel good.

Lifting your head from Joel’s chest, you press your lips to where your cheek had just been. Beginning at his pec, and over his heart, tasting the salt of his sweat-damp skin as you work your way up the broad plane of his chest, dotting feather-light kisses up to the juncture of where his shoulder meets his neck.

You gently untangle yourself from his side, and Joel begins to stir just slightly as you softly mouth along the column of his throat and move to hover over him, your thighs straddling his hips and hands on the mattress on either side of him to hold yourself up.

He’s still mostly asleep, but you can already feel through the layers of both of your underwear that he’s beginning to harden beneath you, his body waking up faster than his brain, always so responsive to your touch.

You continue to kiss across Joel’s strong jaw, over the patchy hair that tickles your lips, dotting a trail of sweet kisses up his cheek and to the tip of his sharp nose, then back down to his mustache and over the corner of his lips.

He stirs again when your lush lips press against his own just once, not quite awake enough to kiss back just yet, but this time a soft hum of approval leaves him at the pleasant feeling.

With one more peck to his soft lips, you begin your descent back down Joel’s body, leaving behind another smattering of kisses in your wake.

From his Adam’s apple to the rounded bone of his shoulder, then back down to his chest. You know he’s a bit more awake when you feel him begin to stir again — his strong body shifting ever so slightly beneath yours, dick twitching against your core underneath the layers of cloth as you place a barely-there kiss to each of his nipples. Joel lets out a sleepy groan as your tongue darts out to lick at the sensitive skin before continuing on your way.

Shifting your body lower on the bed, your kisses become a bit more feverish, less soft as you work your way down Joel’s torso. Your hunger for him only growing as you get closer and closer to the bulge in his boxers, spurred on by the breathy little grunts and groans leaving his parted lips as his mind begins to catch up to the pleasure that his body is feeling.

Joel lets out a content sigh, head still resting on his pillow, eyes still shut and still about half asleep. Unsure if he’s dreaming when he feels you press a firm kiss to the skin just above his navel.

He’s quickly pulled out of that dream-like state, though — breath catching in his throat, jolting beneath you as your warm tongue darts out lick a broad stripe over his soft belly.

You can’t help but grin as you look up to see his face, those pretty brown eyes now open but still bleary with sleep, pillowy lips parted in a gasp, sweaty curls falling over his forehead as he shifts his focus towards you.

“Morning, baby.” You whisper into the quiet of your bedroom, your chin resting on Joel’s tummy as you gaze up at him sweetly.

Your smile only grows when he cards a hand over his tired face, groaning out a tired ‘fuck’.

Now that he’s awake — just barely — you press your lips to his belly one last time before heading lower. Fitting yourself between Joel’s thick thighs, you kiss along the fine hairs of his happy trail, then his hip bones, and you know he’s fully hard when your hands glide up his thighs to palm him over his black boxers.

Joel releases a throaty groan as you stroke him through the soft fabric, one of his large hands coming up to the side of your head. Calloused pads of his fingers running gently through your bed-mussed hair. “Please, darlin’.”

The use of the pet name combined with Joel’s sleepy, Texan morning voice actually makes you whimper, clenching your thighs as a new gush of arousal floods between them. Needy for him as your fingers move to his waistband, gingerly but quickly pulling down the black, cotton fabric and freeing his impressive length.

A quiet, raspy moan escapes Joel’s lips as you spit into your hand before wrapping it around his cock. He’s long and thick and heavy in your hand, your fingers hardly able to wrap around the girth of him, his tip an angry red and leaking pretty pearls of precum.

He lets out a quiet hiss as you begin to stroke up from the base, leaning down to kiss along his tip before kitten-licking at the slit, a pleased hum leaving you at the salty, heady taste of his arousal. Joel’s mind is still a bit hazy with sleep, but he swears he’s died and gone to heaven when you lick a hot stripe along the underside of his cock, tongue laving over the thick vein that runs along his shaft.

The hand in your hair tightens its grip when you oh-so-delicately take Joel into your mouth, emitting a pleased hum from you as you gently suckle on his tip. The vibration sends a jolt up his spine, cock twitching in your grasp as you continue to stroke up and down his length with increasing ease as your spits begins to coat his skin. Delicate fingers wrapped tight around him moving up and down to meet your lips as your tongue swirls around the bulbous head.

You take your time, enjoying Joel’s quiet, raspy moans, the whispered curses, and shallow breaths all falling from his lips as you slowly take him deeper and deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth.

When you’re about halfway down his length, you suck in your cheeks, lips tightening around him as you begin to suck with more fervor and Joel has to bite back a desperate moan as you bob up and down his length. His hips buck up of their own volition — the feeling of your warm, wet mouth wrapped around him is just too good — the two of you groaning in unison as the movement sends his cock further between your lips, the tip just grazing the back of your throat and causing you to gag around him.

“Fuck, m’sorry, baby.” Joel drawls, gently smoothing a hand over the crown of your head. He lifts you up his length just a little bit, just enough to gather your bearings.

You release him from your mouth with a wet pop. A string of saliva still connects the two of you between his swollen, red tip and your now swollen lips, and Joel thinks he’s a goner when you wrap a hand tight around his shaft, leaning back in to kitten-lick at his slit.

You smear delicate kisses all along his tip, then up and down every inch of his length, all the while gazing up at him with doe eyes before you bring him between your spit-slicked lips once again.

“So good for me. Always so good for me.”

His morning voice is deep — deeper than normal — and it has your eyes rolling back into your head as you whimper around him, tears collecting at your lash line from having just taken him so deep so abruptly. Nodding your head as much as you can with his cock still in your mouth, you let Joel know that you’re okay to keep going.

You want to please him. He deserves this. You want to make him feel good.

You know that Joel is getting close from the way he’s fighting himself to not buck his hips and fuck up into your mouth, the hand that’s not in your hair clinging to the gray sheets like a lifeline. His chest rapidly rising and falling as he tries his hardest to keep at least somewhat quiet — he knows that his daughter is sleeping right down the hall — biting back gravely grunts and groans that you so wish you could hear at full volume, his cock twitching against your tongue with every little move you make.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you decide to take him as deep as you can go. Swallowing around him as his tip reaches into the depths of your throat, those tears are now spilling freely from your eyes as the coarse hairs at his base tickle your nose.

You suction your cheeks taut and lick along the underside of his shaft, the wet sounds of your sucking growing sloppy, Joel’s pubic hairs now shiny with your spit and his fingers are now pulling hard at your hair, the slight sting in your scalp a pleasurable one and only spurring you on.

A particularly harsh suck has Joel throwing his head back onto his pillow, sweaty curls falling like a halo around his pleasure-wrought features. Whiskey colored eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, nose scrunched, and lips parted in a quiet, guttural groan that lingers in the warm, sticky summer atmosphere of your shared bedroom.

“I’m— fuck!” He damn near whimpers when your free hands reaches out to caress his heavy balls, squeezing getnly as you continue to arduously suck and stroke his length, your hand and mouth working in tandem and meeting in the middle. “I’m close, sweetheart.”

You moan hungrily around him, the vibrations nearly sending Joel over the edge, the hand on your head now pushing you down onto his cock without hesitation – he knows you can take it. Hips thrusting up and chasing the velvety, wet warmth of your throat as you gag on him once more, drool spilling out the corners of your mouth all around him, the wet, sucking sounds filling the room obscene.

Joel practically growls when he feels your nails dig into the meat of his thigh, his chin dropping to his chest and he looks down to find you gazing back at him. Your cheeks hollowed, lips stretched around his aching cock, taking all of him like the good girl he knows you are. Your pretty, tear-filled eyes gazing up at him with so much love, and that’s what is his undoing.

You feel it when Joel’s whole body tenses beneath you, fireworks shooting up his spine as he starts to cum with a heavy groan that was lodged deep in his throat. You can’t help but moan around him as he fills your mouth, painting your throat with the hot, salty ropes of his release.

He mutters a string of broken moans, a mixture of curses and grunts of your name as you work him through it. The grip Joel has on your hair starts to lighten up — though, only a bit — but it’s enough for you to pull back on his length a bit to allow your hand to join your mouth in its ministrations. Slowly, but firmly, stroking him and sucking at his cock until you’re sure you’ve swallowed down every drop he has to give you, his stomach practically caving in by the time you’re done with him.

Until he’s reduced to shallow pants and hushed whimpers, Joel’s entire body shuddering as your lips lay one last kiss to his sensitive tip, and he drops an arm over his face, shielding his eyes from the now overwhelming light as he takes a few moments to catch his breath.

You let Joel take all the time he needs to recover, carefully tucking his softening length back into his black boxers.

It’s a few minutes before Joel uncovers his eyes, slowly blinking to adjust the the increasing brightness of the hot summer sun shining into the bedroom, and he’d swear you’re an angel, still nestled between his thighs. You’re busy littering the soft, tanned skin of his thighs and his belly in sweet little kisses and love bites when that deep, sleepy morning voices speaks up again.

“Well good mornin’ to you too, pretty girl.”

Before you can respond, two strong arms are pulling you up the bed — and up Joel’s body, a firm hand on the nape of your neck pulling you in so he can smash his lips to your puffy ones in a longing, appreciative kiss.

His deft hands then slide down your hips to grab your ass, squeezing at the soft flesh with a groan against your lips, before Joel is flipping the two of you over so he’s now the one hovering over you. A little yelp escapes you, but is quickly transformed into a stifled moan as his lips begin kissing a path down your body, now fully awake and more than ready to return the favor.

⋆ . ˚ ✩

⋆ . ˚ ✩

Thank you for reading!! x

[earthtooz]

Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx

x : DISTANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?

warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.

a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt

Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.  

What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc. 

“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.

“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.” 

The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”

“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”

The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.

Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.

Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?

Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.

Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.  

Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you. 

When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.

“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.

“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Nearing six in the evening.”

“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”

Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.

“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”

He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist. 

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you. 

“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion. 

“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them. 

“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”

“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.

“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”

“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I find it funny.” 

He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”

“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”

“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.

You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.

If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”

“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now. 

He pouts. “When will you be home?”

“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”

“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”

“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”

With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much. 

Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”

“Do you need me to accompany you there?” 

“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”

“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”

Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”

“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure. 

“Love you,” you murmur when parting. 

The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun. 

“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”

“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.  

He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away. 

Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him. 

“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.

“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.

Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum. 

You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.

During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.

You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.

So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?

“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.

“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.

“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.

Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.

The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.

“How did you discover this place?” You ask.

“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.

Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”

“I take it you like it here then?”

“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.

Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks. 

“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.

You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”

“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”

“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips. 

“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”

“Are you trying to butter me up?”

“Is it working?” 

“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”

“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”

You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”

Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response. 

“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”

You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office. 

Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step. 

It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.

Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.  

“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.

“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.

“Long day?”

“Draining too,” he murmurs. 

“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building. 

The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.” 

“Did you do anything today to earn it?”

“I need to earn my kisses now?”

“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives? 

You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-

“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.

Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.

You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”

How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy. 

Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.” 

“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs. 

Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.

Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning. 

You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity. 

There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you. 

“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out. 

“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress. 

It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give. 

You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first. 

But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.

“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze. 

You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.

“Dunno. Just double checking.”

“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”

“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?

“Yeah.”

“Fine, amazing, just dandy.” 

You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.

Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food. 

Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?

Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.

He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day. 

“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”

He shushes you.

“What-”

“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved. 

When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day. 

So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.

“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.

You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.

“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles. 

It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end. 

“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted. 

“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek. 

Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.” 

The dark-haired stiffens. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you cough.

“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”

“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”  

“Which was?” 

“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”

“Why would I ever want that?”

“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”

“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.” 

You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know…”

Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye. 

“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you. 

When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.

It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night. 

Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.

“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.

You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.

“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.

As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little. 

“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”

He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”

You nod, “I will.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.” 

“Sorry for putting you through all that.”

“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.” 

“I love you, Wriothesley.” 

He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”

A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again. 

*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅

synopsis: (Matt x Reader x Fem!OC) where Matt wants to help satisfy you with some help.

warnings: SMUT, threesome, pussy munchin, unprotected sex, bisexual fantasies

ʚ with love and big tits, Rose ɞ

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Matt’s heart hurt watching you shrink into yourself. Your group of girl friends were more than supportive when you came out. A lot of them were part of the community themselves. 

“NO, SAME! Eating a girls pussy really is fuckin’ amazing, man.” 

Your attentive boyfriend sees your face blank with a dissociative look. 

He knows. 

He knows you feel left out. He can see the tortured look behind your eyes. But, he also knew you loved him and you’d never cheat on him. In fact, he even knew you would never even admit to wanting something—something he couldn’t give you—in fear of hurting him. 

That’s why when the group of girls left, he had sat you down on your shared bed for a conversation. 

“Baby, talk to me. I can tell something is wrong, let me help you.” he encouraged.

You were dismissive and unresponsive as he tried to push the truth out of you. He never needed anyone else to bring life into the bedroom with you, but seeing the longing on your face as you listened to your friend’s experiences changed that. 

“Listen….I’m so proud of you for coming out, baby—I really am. But….I can see that you want more—”

“No! I want you, I—”

“I know, I know, you’re never losing me. Don’t worry about that—I just, just listen, okay?”

You heard him loud and clear as he suggested the idea to you. 

A threesome.

He told you to pick out the girl. There was no part of him that cared for the woman besides if she could please you. But, you were already overwhelmed—you were shocked at the idea and your brain wanted no part in seeking the third member. 

Matt has always been stepping up and helping you out. This was no different. He took all your boundaries into consideration while looking around. Rachel, your best friend, had even received a phone call from him, with your permission of course. 

Learning any information he could from her, he found the girl. It was one of Rachel’s other friends, a girl you had both met briefly at the club and really hit off with. However, she was never in town too often. 

But, Matt didn’t see that as a problem. 

Discussing boundaries and relaying the information to her was easy. The girl was respectful and mindful as she talked to Matt. 

“I….I’m just gonna be blunt with the boundaries if that’s okay….” Matt trails off, slightly unsure as he bites his tongue. 

“Hit me, Matt. I’m down and it will honestly be better to know everything crystal clear.” Avery remarks. 

So, he did just that. He explained every boundary, repeating words when lost in translation.

Which all led to now. 

The night had started off with a couple of drinks to loosen up as well as a high tension. With each sip, the tension faded to an aura of excitement.

Now, you were laying on your’s and Matt’s bed. Your head rested on Matt’s thigh as he brushed your hair out of your face. He watched hungrily at your face contort into pleasure with each nibble Avery left on your skin. 

“That feels good, baby huh?” he perks. 

You nod, your head throwing back further as Avery gently clamps her teeth around your nipple, massaging the other one between her fingers. 

Your body rolls between the two. Matt’s attentive pats and her warm mouth make your cunt throb. Nude skin all touching and brushing together drives you insane. The only remaining clothing left on was Matt’s briefs. 

Avery’s kisses trail up as she pins your wrists down on Matt’s thighs on either side of your head. You get a quick glimpse of Matt’s intense eyes analyzing your expression before shutting them to embrace the feeling of her lips crashing against your own. 

Her lips are passionate, slow and sultry. Each motion leaves your gut fiening for relief. She scoots further up, kneeling one leg up and brushes the top of her thigh against your pussy. You break the kiss with a shriveled moan. 

Avery laughs against your skin as she trails downward with her mouth, wet and sloppy kisses reaching down to your navel. Peeping open your scrunched eyes, you see Matt watching her hands as they slide up between your legs. 

Gentle and softly, she spreads your wet heat to expose the hood of your clit. Toying with the sensitive bud, you let out a shriek. Your knees clutch inward, being stopped by her shoulders. 

“God,” she laughs, amused at your reactiveness. “---you’re so sensitive, baby.” 

You squirm as Matt soothes his hands on top of your arms, comforting you as Avery spits a large wad of salvia down your cunt. A light slap to your pussy makes you jolt and let out a cry. Avery laughs out, pushing her fingers hard around your clit to tease you. You can feel the liquid seeping out from your hole from the tense fever waving over you. 

Repeating the action, you squeak and let out a strangled cry. She pins your hips down harshly, biting onto the top of your thigh. 

“Play nice, Avery.” Matt warns. 

They had gone over boundaries. A simple ‘no’ or ‘stop’ would elicit the end of all wandering hands. He was stern, but he wasn’t upset. 

He just wanted you to feel good. 

And he was able to tease you like how she was—-you didn’t need Avery for that. 

“Jealous? C’mon, look,” she rubs slowly onto your clit. Your hands grab onto each of Matt’s knees as your mouth draws in a wide circle. “---she’s such a fun toy. Could play with her all day, yeah?” she teases, licking a stripe up your thigh with her fingers circling around your pulsating nerves. 

Matt licks his tongue over the bottoms of his teeth. He’s not jealous because he fears she’ll make you feel good—he’s jealous because he wants to be the one doing it. He wants your pretty moans and tight cunt to be plundering whimpers and whines to him. 

As Avery lets her hot breath fan over your wet folds, you shiver in delight. She teasingly prods her tongue through your slick, her lips curling as you whine. Looking upward, she sees Matt watching her intently as he continues caressing his hands up and down your arms. 

“Go ahead.” he grits, a slight pride overcoming him as she waits for his permission to dive through your pussy hungrily. 

It was all part of the deal. You were his—-she had to get permission from him before doing anything to you. She knew she had limitations, and honestly—she was more than willing to compromise—even more so as she licked through your cunt. 

She teases you with a light pressure, prying your thighs apart and letting her manicured nails dig into the soft flesh. Shaking her head back and forth, she lets her tongue roam and wander, smoothing over your pussy and taking notes of where her mouth suctions that makes your moans louder and higher in pitch. 

Matt can’t help it. His cock strains in his briefs, poking the side of your head as you become consumed by pleasure. You already looked so fucked out and they’ve barely even started. He imagines how warm and wet your pussy is gonna feel around him as you rock your hips in Avery’s face. 

Watching you feel so good makes him feel good. 

“C’mon, baby. Doing so good for us, so good.” he praises.

Avery feels you clench around her tongue as she presses her nose to your clit. Matt hesitantly wanders his hands down, grazing lightly over your hot skin. 

You jump at the suction of Avery’s lips around your clit, her teeth resting to prod at the sensitive bud lightly as she sucks hard. Matt stops his finger along your tits, his fingers swirling and pinching delicately on your nipples. 

It all feels so good. Attention from both sides drives you insane. Your legs tense around Avery, quivering as you let out a screech. The pit of your gut clenches as your entire body shivers from the white, hot bliss. 

“That’s it, good girl.” Matt praises. 

You gasp for air as Avery lifts herself from between your legs. She wipes her mouth, smirking devilishly at Matt. 

“You gonna fuck her or what?” she taunts. 

Matt knows she’s pushing his buttons on purpose. Avery had expressed how she was dying to see your face as he pounded into you. But, despite that—it was working. 

“Baby, can she sit on your face, hm?” Matt asks, ignoring Avery as he stares down at you softly. 

Blissed out, you nod. Your hips are still swiveling the bed from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Avery and Matt switch, her legs straddling on either side of your face. Matt adjusts the pillows behind your head, brushing the slightly damp hairs out of your face. 

Turning to Avery, he gives a harsh glare. “Don’t hurt her, I’m serious.” he points. She rolls her eyes, ticking off his buttons more. He shifts his gaze back towards your ogling eyes as you pant looking at Avery’s dripping pussy in front of you. 

And fuck. 

Something about your hungry eyes makes his chest tighten.  

“Gonna eat her pussy real good, huh sweetheart?” he taunts. 

You nod, fighting the urge to dig in as they both stare down at you intensely. 

“Make her cum and I’ll fuck you, m’kay? Can you do that, baby?” he asks. 

“I—yeah, yeah—I can do tha—”

Your words are swallowed into Avery’s cunt as she seats herself on your face. You moan into her, your hands grasping around and onto her hips. 

“Mmmmm, yeah she can—look how good she is for me, Matt. My—fuck—my hungry girl, huh?” she whines out, letting out a hiss as you work against her pussy. 

Matt huffs, walking around and climbing in between your legs on the bed. He kicks off his boxers, licking over his lips. You're too distracted to realize the shift in the bed, too consumed in the addiction sour of Avery’s slick coating your tongue. 

It’s almost like rubbing wet sand into your skin at the beach—-it feels addicting. Your tongue against her soft pussy lips making Avery shriek from above you. She grasps onto the headboard of the bed, her legs starting to tense on either side of your head. 

“Oh my—fuck yeah, baby. You’re doin’ so good, huh?” she praises. 

You gain confidence and more friction as she chases the knot building in her stomach. Matt can’t help but spread your legs further apart and admire your cunt pulse around nothing. He watches as your previous orgasm squeezes out of your tight hole, licking his lips as he grazes his hand teasingly up your thigh. 

“Matt, look—oh my—-she’s doing so good. All for me, huh?” 

His frustration from Avery’s relentless taunts makes his fingers dig into the thick skin between your thighs. Staring at Avery’s marks littered on your skin—he devilishly leans his head down to kiss over the marks. 

Avery’s whines get louder and louder. The bed starts to shake as she grasps onto the headboard for dear life. Placing a soft kiss on your sensitive pussy lips, Matt grins as you whine into Avery loudly, causing her to scream out as her body tenses.

“---cumming, holy fuckin’--’m cumming,” she rides her hips out slowly on your face as she hunches over to catch her breath. 

Matt stops Avery by the hips with his hands as she tries to lift herself from your face. “Uh-uh,” he tuts, “---you’re gonna sit right back down. Be good for my girl, yeah? She doesn’t sound like she’s done.” he slurs with a pronounced dominance. 

Weak from the previous orgasm, Avery only nods before letting herself fall limp on your face. You moan as you taste her yet again, completely drunk on the way her cum slowly dribbles down her walls as you prod your tongue in as deep as it can. 

Avery whines and hisses from the overstimulation, but she’s not alone. You yelp into her as you feel Matt sliding his cock along your lips, teasing your entrance. 

Crescent moons peirce into her hips from your nails as you cry out from Matt thrusting his cock into you slowly. 

“Fuckkkkk, so good. You fuckin’ squeeze my dick so goddamn good, sweetheart. Look at that….” he mumbles the last part to himself, staring at where your bodies meet. He watches as your hole stretches around his length as he slowly starts fucking into you. 

Reaching a hand down, he spreads your folds to reveal your clit. He teasingly rubs the tip of his finger on the swollen bud, moaning as you clench around him harder. 

Pressing completely down, he drags his thumb along your clit in slow circles as he starts gathering a decent pace. Each thrust of his cock combined with the euphoric touch of his thumb sends your noises directly onto Avery’s cunt, overstimulating her further as she pushes her weight forward, desperately holding herself up as her legs vibrate. 

“Oh–!” Avery comes to a high, riding out yet another orgasm as your tongue darts in and out of her hole, the tip of your nose buried against her nerves pulsing by her hooded clit. 

“My god—you eat pussy fuckin’ good.” she pants out. 

Matt huffs in between quickening thrusts. “Yeah—she, fuck, she sucks cock like…mmmm—like no other.” he remarks. 

Avery sits beside your head, her hands toying with your perky breasts as they bounce with each thrust. She mocks your facial expression as your eyebrows furrow, your mouth hanging open wide. 

“Fuck her better, Matt.” Avery grits maliciously. 

Matt is too far gone to care as he abuses his frustration from the relentless girl onto your puffy and pulsating cunt—his cunt. Your tight hole swallows him, milking him as slaps echo through the room. 

“Oh my—-” 

Your boyfriend struggles to contain the impending orgasm as you clutch him in deep with your legs around his waist. His pounding is buried deep in your gut. Avery notices this, reaching down to press on the bulge prodding with each thrust. 

A piercing scream scratches through your throat. Everything feels so good. Your chanting and moaning both nonsense and Matt’s name. Your hands desperately search for something, clutching onto Avery’s wrist as she pushes harsher with her palm on your lower stomach. 

“I’m—--I—--oh,”

You're unable to get the words out through the mind numbing pleasure. Matt’s hard cock is slapping into, hilting to create a pressure between your hips. 

“You gonna cum for me, sweetie? Yeah?” Avery pats your cheek with her free hand, sliding her thumb between your lips. You suck on the finger, nodding helplessly as your body rocks and vibrates. 

“No—fuckin’---she’s cuming—-cumming for me. Isn’t that, ugh god—right, pretty girl?” You clench around him harder at his words. “Mhm, that’s right. Fuckin’--suckn’ me in it feels so good, huh? My cock fills this pretty pussy,  baby? Tell me.” he directs. 

Avery shoots him a playful glare. “She’s busy with her mouth, Matt—”

“Don’t. Give. A. Fuck. Let—god, let her talk—or I swear,” he puffs against your skin between hard strokes of his cock pushing into you as his thrusts deepen with passion. “One more word—you’re gonna, mmmm, you're riding that pretty little face again, you hear me?” he warns.

Avery pops her thumb out of your mouth, her pulsating folds aching beyond any craving for stimulation. She lazily drags the fingers down your body, groping your breasts as she tweaks the nipple.

“Baby, tell me. Who fills this pussy so good, huh?” he rushes out, straining his sentences in a slur of pure ecstasy. 

“I—you, Matt, you!’ you whine out. 

“That’s right, that’s right,” he praises, dropping his head as he feels you start to convulse around him. Your broken moans stripped by your raw throat tip him over the edge. The tightness of your walls milks his pearlescent cum deep inside of you, messily forming a ring around the base of his cock as you both ride down your highs with lazy thrusts.

“Can I make her cum again?” Avery asks jokingly. 

Matt laughs, slowly pulling out as he glances down to your blissed out expression. He brushes sweat soaked hair behind your ear, your hooded eyes lazily blinking up at him. 

“No,” he says, kissing the side of your head as he caresses your cheek. He slurs his words with a dry chuckle.“---think she’s satisfied.”