#I love it when they just hang together on the side

[rootedinrevisions]

Through the Wreckage

SUMMARY: When a devastating tornado tears through town, Tyler Owens faces his worst nightmare: the woman he loves is missing. Tyler is thrust into a desperate search through the wreckage to find her. As the storm's aftermath unfolds, it forces him to confront his fears, regrets, and hopes for the future.

A/N: So got inspired for this after watching Twisters earlier today. Just the anguish that we saw from Tyler when he realized Kate was driving into the tornado made me wonder what would happen if the person he loved was missing or in danger. Hence where we ended up here.

WARNINGS: Destruction (ie: a tornado hit so damaged buildings, smoke, dust, sparks, etc.), Blood, Minor Injuries.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The tires screeched as Tyler pulled up to the scene, gravel crunching beneath his truck. He barely shifted into park before throwing the door open and jumping out. His boots hit the ground with a thud, and the first thing his eyes locked on was the building—partially collapsed, its front wall completely gone. The inside was exposed like a broken shell, with beams hanging at jagged angles and smoke or dust curling into the air from where drywall and bricks had crumbled. His heart sank like a stone in his chest. This wasn’t good.

Behind him, Boone’s truck came to a stop, followed by Dani, Dexter, and Lily piling out of their vehicles. Tyler barely registered the sound of their voices calling his name as they ran toward him. His world had narrowed to the destruction in front of him, and one thought pounded in his mind: She’s in there.

Pulling his phone from his pocket with shaking hands, Tyler checked the last location pinged from your phone. His stomach twisted. It matched this address. He swallowed hard, the weight of dread pressing down on him as his eyes scanned the crowd of people that had been pulled from the building and huddled together on the other side of the street. His pulse quickened as he searched for you, desperate for even a glimpse of your face. But you weren’t there.

“Tyler, man, slow down,” Boone said, gripping his shoulder as he came up beside him. “Let’s figure out what’s going on—”

“She’s not out here,” Tyler cut him off, his voice tight and raw. “She’s not with them.” He gestured toward the crowd of people being tended to by paramedics. 

His chest heaved as the realization hit him like a freight train: You were still inside.

Without another word, he turned and made a beeline toward the first responders standing near the edge of the debris. His strides were long and determined, his jaw set in grim determination as he ignored Boone’s calls to slow down. 

The closer he got, the more chaos surrounded him. The air smelled of smoke and damp concrete, and the sound of crackling debris mixed with shouts from firefighters. But none of it mattered.

“Did everyone get out?” Tyler shouted, his voice hoarse as he reached the nearest firefighter. “Did you see a woman—about this tall, light hair?” He motioned frantically, his green eyes darting around. 

He already knew the answer from their hesitant expressions, but he refused to accept it.

“Sir,” one of them started, stepping forward, “it’s not safe—we weren’t able to get to everyone.”

“Where. Is. She?” Tyler growled, his frustration boiling over. His voice cracked, raw with fear and desperation. “Her phone’s still pinging from here! I need to know if she made it out!”

Another firefighter shook his head grimly. “We’re still doing sweeps, but the building’s unstable. Most of the front wall came down in the collapse. We can’t risk—”

“Bullshit!” Tyler snapped, cutting him off as he took a step toward the wreckage.

Boone and Dexter were on him in an instant, grabbing his arms to hold him back.

“Tyler, don’t,” Boone urged, his voice low and firm. “You can’t go in there, man. It’s not safe. They’ll handle it.”

“She’s in there!” Tyler shouted, wrenching free from their grip. His voice cracked as he pointed toward the ruined building. “I know she is, Boone! I’m not waiting around while they do their sweeps!” His voice was shaking now, and for a moment, the raw emotion broke through his resolve. His chest heaved, his shoulders trembling as he ran a hand over his face, trying to block out the fear clawing at his mind.

The building groaned, a deep, unsettling sound that warned of further collapse. Tyler’s eyes darted toward it, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. 

If you were inside, he wasn’t about to stand by and let the clock run out.

“I’m going in,” he muttered under his breath, and before anyone could stop him, he broke into a sprint toward the wreckage.

“Sir! Stop! You can’t go in there!” a firefighter yelled, his voice sharp with authority.

Another called out, “It’s too dangerous! The structure’s not stable!”

But Tyler didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down. The sound of boots pounding behind him told him Boone or Dexter was probably trying to catch him, but he didn’t care. All he could see was the shattered entrance ahead, the gaping maw of destruction that had swallowed you whole.

As he crossed the threshold, the air inside hit him like a wall—thick with dust and smoke, making it hard to breathe. He pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth, squinting to see through the haze. The floor was littered with debris—chunks of drywall, splintered wood, and jagged shards of glass. Wires hung loose from the ceiling, some sparking as they dangled.

The creak of shifting metal echoed through the space, and Tyler froze for a moment, his eyes darting upward. A beam groaned overhead, threatening to give way. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to move, stepping carefully over a fallen section of wall.

“Darlin’,” he shouted, his voice hoarse and strained. “Where are you?”

His heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the wreckage, his eyes darting from one pile of debris to the next. The oppressive silence was broken only by the occasional crackle of sparks or the distant shouts of first responders outside.

“Come on, darlin’. Give me something,” he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling. He tried to focus, to ignore the dread clawing at the edges of his mind.

Tyler’s boot crunched on something, and he looked down to see a broken picture frame, the glass shattered across the floor. Around it were scattered papers, children’s drawings, and a few books covered in dust. He swallowed hard, the small remnants of normal life a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding him.

Pushing forward, he weaved through the destruction, stepping over overturned chairs and avoiding the sharp edges of broken furniture. The air grew hotter the deeper he went, the faint smell of something burning making his stomach churn.

And then he saw it.

A shoe.

Tyler’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized it—your shoe, half-buried beneath a pile of rubble. He stumbled forward, dropping to his knees as his shaking hands reached for it.

“Sweetheart?” he called, his voice breaking. He tossed aside chunks of drywall and splintered wood, the sharp edges cutting into his palms. Blood smeared across the debris as he worked, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting to you.

Finally, he uncovered your leg, and his heart seized. You were pinned beneath the debris, your body motionless. Dust and grime streaked your face, and your hair was tangled with bits of plaster.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers were gentle, but his hands shook uncontrollably.

Leaning closer, he pressed his fingers to the side of your neck, searching desperately for a pulse. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. And then he felt it—a faint, fragile beat beneath his fingertips.

Relief flooded him, and a choked sob escaped his lips. 

“Thank God,” he breathed. “I’ve got you, darlin’. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

At the sound of his voice, you stirred faintly, your head shifting against the debris that cradled it. The faintest groan escaped your lips, so quiet he almost missed it. Tyler froze, his heart skipping a beat as his eyes shot to your face.

“Darlin’?” He said, his voice trembling with equal parts hope and fear. He cupped your face with one dirt-streaked hand, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Hey, hey, it’s me. Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

Your brow furrowed slightly, and your lips moved, though no sound came out at first. He leaned closer, his ear inches from your face.

“Ty...” The broken syllable fell from your lips like a lifeline, and his chest ached at the sound of it.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Your eyes fluttered weakly, just barely cracking open, but it was enough. Enough to send relief crashing over him in a wave so powerful it left him dizzy.

“Oh, thank God,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to grip yours. He squeezed it gently, willing his strength into you. “Stay with me. Keep those eyes on me, okay? You’re gonna be fine. I promise.”

You tried to say something else, your voice a faint whisper he couldn’t quite make out. He shook his head, tears pricking his eyes as he crouched lower to meet your gaze.

“Don’t try to talk,” he urged softly. “Just save your strength, darlin’. I’m getting you out of here. Just stay with me, okay? That’s all I need you to do. Stay with me.”

The faintest flicker of a nod came from you, but it was enough to shatter the fragile composure he’d been clinging to. His free hand pressed to his mouth as he choked back a sob, his chest heaving with the weight of his fear and relief.

The building groaned again, a deep, ominous sound that sent a shiver down his spine. He knew he didn’t have much time. He slid his arms beneath you, cradling you against his chest as he stood.

With you in his arms, Tyler turned toward the exit, his focus unwavering despite the chaos around him. All that mattered was getting you out of here alive.

Tyler adjusted his grip on you, holding you closer as he stepped carefully over the uneven ground. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

The air inside the building was suffocating. Smoke and dust hung thick like a heavy fog, clawing at his lungs with every breath. His throat burned, and each inhale felt like dragging sandpaper across raw skin. He coughed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before forcing them open again. He couldn’t lose focus—not now.

Sparks rained down from a severed electrical wire overhead, the sharp sting biting into the exposed skin of his arms. He flinched, gritting his teeth as the acrid smell of singed fabric filled the air. 

“Stay with me, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice rough and desperate as he looked down at you. “We’re almost out of here.”

Your body shifted slightly in his arms, and a soft, raspy cough escaped your lips. Tyler’s heart jumped at the sound. Panic surged through him, as he saw how shallow your breathing was.

“You still with me?” He called, his voice cracking. “Hey, can you hear me? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You coughed again, your eyelids fluttering briefly but not opening. A weak, almost inaudible groan escaped you.

“That’s it,” Tyler said, his tone urgent but soft like he was coaxing you back to him. “You’re doing good. Just keep breathing for me, okay? We’re getting out of here.”

He stumbled slightly as the ground beneath him shifted—a section of flooring sagging under the weight of the debris. Tyler’s knees buckled for a moment, and he tightened his grip on you, his heart racing.

“Dammit,” he muttered, steadying himself before pressing forward.

The building groaned around him, the sound of metal twisting and concrete cracking growing louder. He could feel time running out.

Another section of ceiling collapsed behind him, sending a fresh plume of dust into the air. Tyler ducked instinctively, shielding you as debris rained down. A sharp edge grazed the back of his neck, and he winced, but he didn’t stop moving.

The exit was just ahead—a faint sliver of light visible through the haze. Tyler pushed toward it, his legs trembling with exertion. His vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges as the lack of clean air began to take its toll.

His steps faltered, and he coughed violently, nearly doubling over. For a moment, he thought his legs might give out, but then he felt a small, trembling hand against his chest. Your hand gripped weakly at his shirt, your head lolling slightly against his shoulder.

“T-Tyler...” you rasped, your voice barely audible. 

His breath hitched, and he forced himself to keep moving. 

“I’m here,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’ve got you, darlin’. Just hang on.”

The exit grew closer, but the smoke thickened, clawing at his throat and lungs. Tyler stumbled again, his knees hitting the floor as his body screamed for oxygen.

“No,” he growled, shaking his head as he clutched you tighter. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself back to his feet, ignoring the way his legs trembled beneath him.

The light from the exit grew brighter, and he could hear the distant shouts of first responders outside. They sounded muffled like he was underwater, but it gave him just enough hope to keep going.

Sparks rained down again, burning his exposed arms and neck, but Tyler turned his body to shield you, hunching over as he pushed through the final stretch. His back felt like it was on fire, the fabric of his shirt sticking to blistering skin, but he didn’t slow down.

Finally, he broke through the haze, stumbling out onto the pavement. The fresh air hit him like a punch to the chest, and he gasped, his knees giving out as he sank to the ground.

“Help! Somebody—” he coughed violently, his voice raw and barely audible. “Somebody help her!”

Paramedics rushed toward him, but Tyler’s focus was on you. Your face was pale, streaked with dust and sweat, but your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. He reached up to brush a trembling hand against your cheek, his fingers stained with soot and blood.

“Stay with me, sweetheart. You’re safe now.” He whispered, his voice cracking as tears welled in his eyes. 

Tyler cradled you in his arms, his knees rooted to the pavement as the chaos of the world around him blurred into background noise. His only focus was you.

Your head lolled weakly against his chest, and your breaths were growing more shallow and uneven by the minute. A fresh wave of panic crashed over him as your eyelids fluttered, threatening to close.

“Hey,” he called softly, his voice trembling. “No, no, darlin’, stay with me. Look at me.”

Your eyes opened slightly, your gaze unfocused as you struggled to lift your head.

“I… can’t,” you murmured, the words barely audible.

“Yes, you can,” he said, his tone firm but full of emotion. “You’re not quittin’ on me now, you hear me?”

You coughed softly, your body trembling in his arms. Tyler adjusted his grip, pulling you closer as if he could shield you from the pain and the fear.

“We have plans, remember?” His voice cracked as he spoke, tears welling in his eyes. “Dinner tonight, just you and me. You told me you wanted to get dressed up, and said I needed to wear that tie you like. I’m not lettin’ you out of that, sweetheart. You still owe me a dance.”

A weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, but it quickly faded as your eyelids grew heavier.

“And the church,” he continued, desperation lacing his words. “The little church your parents got married in. We’ll get married there, just like you’ve always wanted. You can wear that lace dress you talked about, the one you saw at the boutique last spring.”

You made a small sound, something between a laugh and a sob, and your fingers twitched weakly against his chest.

“And kids,” Tyler added, his voice breaking completely now. “Two–hell, however many you want. We’ll give ‘em the best damn life, I promise you that. Just… just stay with me, darlin’. Please.”

Your eyes fluttered open again, glassy but fixed on him.

“Three or four?” you rasped, a faint hint of amusement in your tone.

Tyler let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over him like a flood. He cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing away a smudge of dirt from your cheek.

“Yeah, three or four is perfect, darlin’,,” he said, his forehead pressing against yours as his tears mingled with the soot on his face. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. Just tell me the names you’ve got picked out, and I’ll make it happen.”

You gave a weak, tired smile, and he could feel the slight rise and fall of your chest against his. But your body still felt too limp, too fragile in his arms.

“Don’t you dare close those eyes again,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “Stay with me, sweetheart. Stay with me.”

Your gaze flickered once more, but before he could plead again, the paramedics swarmed around you.

“Sir, we need to take her now,” one of them said urgently, but Tyler’s arms tightened instinctively around you.

“I’m not leavin’ her,” he said fiercely, his eyes wild as he looked up at them.

“We need space to help her,” the paramedic insisted, their tone gentle but firm.

Tyler hesitated, his heart warring with his head as he realized he had no choice. He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You hang on, you hear me?” he whispered, his voice shaking.

Reluctantly, he let them take you from his arms, his hands trembling as he watched them load you onto the stretcher. His heart clenched painfully as he saw your pale, dust-streaked face disappear behind the blur of paramedics working to save you.

* * * *

The waiting room of the hospital felt like a void. Time moved differently here, stretching out each second into an eternity. Tyler sat hunched over in a plastic chair, his forearms resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together. Boone, Dani, Dexter, and Lily sat nearby, their voices low and subdued as they tried to offer support. But Tyler didn’t hear them. His mind was stuck in the chaos of the collapsed building, the sound of your ragged breaths, the weight of your fragile body in his arms.

He stared at the double doors down the hallway, willing someone to come through them with news. Good news. Any news. His burned skin throbbed beneath the bandages the ER nurses had wrapped around him, but he didn’t care. The only pain that mattered was the fear clawing at his chest. The fear of losing you.

“T,” Boone said quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “She’s strong. She’s gonna pull through.”

Tyler nodded absently, his throat too tight to respond. He wanted to believe Boone, but the image of you lying so still, your face pale and streaked with dust, was seared into his mind.

The doors finally swung open, and a doctor stepped into the waiting room. Tyler shot to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Tyler Owens?” the doctor asked, glancing around the room.

“That’s me,” he said, his voice hoarse.

The doctor smiled softly, and Tyler’s knees nearly buckled with relief.

“She’s stable,” the doctor said. “She inhaled a lot of smoke, and there’s some bruising from the debris, but no major injuries. She’s going to be okay.”

Tyler exhaled a shaky breath, his hands dragging down his face as the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders.

“Can I see her?” Tyler asked, his voice cracking.

“Of course,” the doctor replied. “She’s awake, but she’s still weak. Try to keep it short for now.”

Tyler nodded, barely hearing the last part as he followed the doctor down the hallway. His boots echoed on the tile floor, the sound somehow both grounding and surreal.

When he stepped into your room, his chest tightened at the sight of you. You were propped up in the hospital bed, an oxygen mask resting lightly over your nose and mouth. The faint beeping of the monitors was a comforting reminder that you were still here, still breathing.

Your eyes fluttered open when you heard him, and despite the exhaustion etched into your face, you managed a small smile.

“Hey, cowboy,” you whispered, your voice muffled by the mask.

Tyler’s lips curved into a smile, and he pulled a chair up to your bedside, sitting down with a sigh of relief. He reached for your hand, his fingers curling gently around yours.

“You scared the hell outta me,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Don’t ever do that again, you hear me?”

“I’ll try,” you teased weakly, your fingers giving his hand the faintest squeeze.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Tyler’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, his eyes drinking in the sight of you as if to convince himself you were really okay.

“I meant what I said out there,” he finally murmured, his gaze locking with yours.

You frowned slightly in confusion. “What part?”

“All of it,” he said. “The church, the kids, everything. I want it all with you, darlin’. I want to marry you, and I’ll wear whatever you tell me to.”

You laughed softly, the sound raspy but real, and Tyler’s heart swelled.

��I’ll hold you to that,” you said, your smile softening as tears welled in your eyes. “I want it all too, Tyler. I always have.”

Tyler leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Then let’s start with dinner,” he said. “Soon as you’re out of here, I’m takin’ you to the nicest place in town. No storms, no distractions, just you and me.”

Your fingers tightened around his as you nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. “Deal. Can we have Italian?”

For the first time in hours, Tyler let himself relax, a small smile playing on his lips as he whispered, “Sure, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

[notlongtolove]

the cup holds the tea

It hits you all at once and you’re out of the booth in a flash, Spencer right behind you. You’ve barely made it to the sidewalk when the drinks betray you—straight onto Spencer’s shoes. The world blurs, and all you can think, mortified, is that you’ve just broken one of the cardinal rules of dating.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff

content: bau!reader has too much to drink and its up to bf!spencer to get her home. and brief mentions of puke... oh reader...

word count: 3k

note: well personally i don't know if i could ever love someone enough where i would lay on my bed in my 'outside clothes' but good on you spence! once i slipped and fell in someone's puke and cried all the way home.

a line: They’ve seen Spencer look at a thousand things with fascination—books, theories, puzzles, statistics. But this? This is something else entirely.

It is a kind of love, is it not? How the cup holds the tea, How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare, How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes Or toes. How soles of feet know Where they’re supposed to be. - Pat Schneider

The room hangs on your words, the perfect moment of suspense stretched like a tightrope. You let it linger, savoring the pause.

“And they ate every last drop of it!”

The punchline lands, and laughter spills out around the table, loud and easy. You beam. Spencer watches you, his gaze warm, almost reverent. He’s always known you had this gift—how you could spin a story, command a room. If he weren’t so completely in love with you, he might’ve envied it. No amount of books or degrees could teach him your knack for recounting stories with such flair, or your ability to whip up comebacks at speeds that leave even Derek speechless.

Spencer’s lucky, and he knows it. His eyes trace the curve of your smile as you sip from your glass, your third—or fourth? He’s lost count. He notices you’re not wincing at its taste anymore and well, you know what they say when the drinks start to taste like water. The fact that you’re tearing up at something Garcia’s showing you—a sloth video, from what he can tell, doesn’t ease his worries in the slightest either. He's not entirely sure what Emily has been ordering for the table but whatever it is, it’s clearly doing its job.

It’s one of those rare nights out, the kind where the team sets work aside and pretends, for a few hours, that the weight of the world isn’t on their shoulders. Rossi had insisted, his treat he said, but Spencer suspects it was just an excuse for the team to watch you two loosen up, to let your guard down. A carefully orchestrated opportunity for the team to see something they hardly ever got to see. They’ve seen you two in the field, sharp and focused, in sync like clockwork. But tonight it's the way you lean into Spencer’s side without realizing it, the way Spencer gently moves your glass out of harm’s way when you gesture too wildly. This is a glimpse of something sacred, something rare.

It’d only been about a month since you and Spencer had made it official. Everyone saw it coming long before you did, but that didn’t stop the teasing once the news broke. They could barely pick their jaws up from off the floor even tonight when Spencer had his hand resting lightly on your waist, steadying you through the crowd as you laughed yourself breathless, stumbling. At work, you both keep it professional, steering clear of anything that might make Hotch raise an eyebrow. But the dim light of the bar is ever so tempting. The bar is full of loud laughter and clinking glasses and you just can’t help but take Spencer's hand into yours, fingers laced without hesitation. 

Spencer catches the way Derek’s eyes light up at the sight, the subtle nudge he gives Emily. He knows they’re going to bring this up later, probably all week.

But he doesn’t move his hand. He doesn’t let go.

The booth is packed tight as you’re all wedged together, shoulders brushing. Everyone’s smiling, unwinding in a way you rarely allow yourselves to, laughter bouncing in overlapping bursts. Spencer sits nursing his water, content to observe. His eyes are drawn back to you over and over, catching on the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh and the animated gestures of you make as you speak.

“C’mon, pretty boy, live a little,” Derek teases, “Just one drink.”

Spencer gives a sheepish smile, waving it off. “I’m fine,” he says, eyes flicking over to you once more.

He can’t keep his eyes off you tonight, it seems. You’re laughing, and It’s unmistakable, the adoration in his gaze, something so un-Spencer-like that makes Derek smile.

He knows Spencer’s not one to drink. You, on the other hand, seem a little too eager, maybe encouraged by Emily’s coaxing, and you’re already on your next drink, cheeks bright and eyes sparkling. You lean into Garcia’s cheers, your glass lifted high. Your laughter is bright and unrestrained, pulling everyone else along with it.

Spencer considers saying something when you're giggling a little more than usual, laughing too hard at a joke that doesn't warrant it. But he knows how you’d take it. You’d wave him off with that familiar insistence, the same as always. It wasn't like you couldn't hold your own, Spencer knows that. You’d held your own at Rossi’s birthday last year just fine, outlasting nearly everyone—everyone except Rossi of course. And that’s probably why he’d already taken his leave tonight, not wanting to get caught in the tail end of whatever chaos this night will inevitably bring.

But that was then and now— Well, it’s different now. Now, the role of boyfriend sits heavier on his shoulders, a title he’s all too happy to hold. And tonight, it’s a card he’s all too happy to play. It gives him leverage, an edge that makes him feel like he has a little more room to step in without you pulling the I don’t need anyone to take care of me speech. 

Spencer sees his opening as lean back into his side a little too comfortably. “Here,” he murmurs, pressing his glass into your hand. “Drink this.”

He hopes you’re just tipsy enough not to ask too many questions, as long as it’s something from the bar. For a moment, it seems like it works—you sit up, eyeing the glass cautiously, then take it from him with slow deliberation.

Almost there, he thinks.

You peer into the glass, squinting at the clear liquid, then give it a small sniff. Spencer’s heart sinks as your expression shifts.

“This is water,” you say, suspiciously.

“Yes, it is,” he admits.

Your brow furrows, the faintest pout tugging at your lips. “I’m drinking vodka.”

“And now you’re drinking water.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you, and I’d rather not carry you out of here tonight,” he says softly, the faintest flush colouring his cheeks.

You look up at him, unimpressed, but he stays firm. “Just drink the water, sweetheart,” he says quietly, his voice barely cutting through the noise.

He braces himself for your resistance. Instead, you huff, give him a pointed glare, and drink it. He watches as you sip, your nose scrunching at the lack of a bite. Spencer lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

The night winds on, the team louder than usual, swept up in Derek’s overly dramatic retelling of the prank war that once took over the bullpen. But you’re quieter, Spencer notices, the drinks maybe finally settling in a little too fast. Your smile slower, your laughter softer, head resting on his shoulder now and again. 

And then, suddenly, you’re not looking so well. It hits you all at once. The queasy welling in your stomach, the cold sweat prickling your skin. You’re out of the booth in a flash, Spencer right behind you as you stumble toward the door, your hand clamped over your mouth. 

You’ve barely made it to the sidewalk when the drinks betray you—straight onto Spencer’s shoes. The world blurs, and all you can think, mortified, is that you’ve just broken one of the cardinal rules of dating.

Of all people it had to be Spencer—germ-conscious, always-prepared Spencer—your lovely boyfriend who at this moment you’re not sure you can ever look in the eyes again Spencer. 

You don’t have to look up to see the team’s reaction as they round the corner, wide-eyed as they process what just happened. Derek’s mouth falls open in disbelief, Emily stares in shock, and Garcia whispers a dramatic, “Oh, no…”

They’re frozen. Because Spencer—Spencer, who uses hand sanitizer like it’s an extension of his arm, Spencer who’s the first to scrunch his nose at anything remotely messy—has just had his shoes christened in the worst way. You know they’re waiting for Spencer’s reaction, the tense recoil, the carefully contained grimace.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead, Spencer pauses, takes a measured breath, and steps closer to you, his hands steady on your shoulders. “Hey,” he asks, voice low and soothing as he crouches to meet your gaze. “Sweetheart, you okay?” He brushes your hair away from your face, his touch careful and kind.

“Spence—” you mumble, your voice cracking with embarrassment. Your hands fly to cover your face. “I’m so sorry. Your shoes—oh my God, your shoes—”

Spencer shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping as he crouches to steady you. His voice is impossibly gentle, calm in a way that eases the edges of your shame. “It’s fine. They’re just shoes,” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your flushed face. “Let’s get you home, okay?” 

You nod, eyes shut, clearly mortified but he doesn’t let you dwell on it. He takes your hand, his grip firm but gentle. For a brief moment, Spencer contemplates asking the bartender for a glass of water to rinse off the mess, but he glances at you—your slightly swaying frame, the way your head droops just a little—and decides against it.

Getting you home safely takes precedence over everything else. Shoes can wait. You can’t.

Emily’s mouth falls open slightly as she watches, “Did Reid just…?” she murmurs, half to herself, as Derek gapes beside her. “Didn’t think the kid had it in him,” Derek says, shaking his head, a grin slowly spreading. Garcia sniffs, dramatically dabbing at her eyes. “I knew he loved her, but this? This is another level.” she says letting out a dreamy sigh. 

They linger, watching as Spencer guides you steadily toward the car with careful patience. He helps you in, crouching to fasten your seatbelt. You’re still mumbling apologies, your voice thick with embarrassment, but Spencer doesn’t falter. Instead, he shrugs off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders even as the mess on his shoes remains. There’s not even a hint of disgust on his face—if anything, he’s focused, caring, murmuring words of reassurance as he tucks his jacket around you. His hand lingers on yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a silent promise that nothing about this has shaken him. 

“I’m so sorry, Spence,” you whisper again, your voice small and heavy with guilt. “I ruined your shoes. And your jacket. And—”

“It’s fine. You’re fine. Besides, I was planning to throw them out anyway.”

You shake your head weakly, your tone petulant even through your embarrassment. “Nooo, don’t throw them out because of me.”

His lips twitch, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Well, what do you suggest I do with them, angel?”

“I’ll wash them,” you declare, your words slow and sleepy.

Spencer raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “You’ll wash them?”

“Mhmm,” you murmur, already halfway to drifting off against the seat.

“How about we get you home first and then worry about the shoes, okay?” he says gently.

“’Kay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as sleep begins to take hold.

Spencer stands, glancing back at the bar where the team is gathered. They’re not even pretending to hide their stares anymore, and he knows he’s going to hear about this for weeks. He raises a hand in a small, sheepish wave before climbing into the driver’s seat.

Derek shakes his head, laughing softly. “He’s gone,” he says, his voice carrying just enough awe to balance the humor. “Kid’s completely gone.”

Emily doesn’t need to ask what he means. Neither does Garcia. Because they’ve seen Spencer look at a thousand things with fascination—books, theories, puzzles, statistics. But this?

This is something else entirely.

The ride home is quiet, save for the occasional slurred apology from you. Spencer reassures you with the same soft patience each time, his hand steady on the wheel and his gaze flickering to you every so often, checking to make sure you’re okay. By the time he gets you home, your protests have faded, replaced by the heavy pull of exhaustion.

His arm remains firm around your waist, steadying you as he helps you inside, careful and methodical in the way he moves. He guides you to the bathroom, where you try to freshen up, fumbling with the faucet and splashing water on your face. Spencer steps in without hesitation and takes over when your movements falter. His touch is featherlight, but there’s no mistaking the care in every movement. The closeness makes your cheeks flush, though whether it’s from lingering embarrassment or something else entirely, you’re too tired to decipher.

“You don’t have to,” you murmur, your words sluggish but sincere.

“Of course I do,” he replies, his voice light but firm. “I want to.” 

He guides you to the bedroom with careful steps, his hand steady on the small of your back. Once there, he sets a glass of water on the nightstand, the gentle clink breaking the quiet.

“Drink,” he coaxes softly, his tone patient but firm.

You take the glass without protest, sipping obediently. Spencer watches, a small smile tugging at his lips. He considers making a playful comment about how quickly you’re drinking it now—so much easier than earlier—but he decides against it.

You’ve been through enough tonight, he thinks.

When he finally tucks you into bed, you’re too tired to resist. You mumble something incoherent, your hand brushing his as he leans in. Spencer pauses, his gaze lingering on your face—peaceful now, the traces of the evening’s mishaps melting away. He presses a light kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

Spencer steps out of the room, leaving the door cracked just enough to hear you if you call out. He lingers in the hallway for a moment, his shoulders sagging slightly now that the night’s adrenaline has begun to wane. He glances down at his shoes—still damp and stained. With a resigned sigh, he makes his way to the kitchen, grabbing a plastic bag. He slips the shoes inside, tying the bag tightly before heading outside. The cold air bites at his skin as he steps toward the dumpster behind his building.

He stands there for a moment, holding the bag. The sight of the shoes, oddly enough, makes him smile. It’s ridiculous, he knows. They’re just shoes. Ruined, stained, completely unsalvageable. But they’re also a reminder of tonight—a reminder of how he’d taken care of you, how you’d let him take care of you. 

With a soft thud, the bag lands in the dumpster. Spencer dusts off his hands, turning back toward the building. When Spencer steps back into his apartment, the soft hum of the heater greets him, a gentle reminder of the warmth waiting inside. And there you are, standing in his shirt in the doorway of his bedroom. Spencer thinks it's a sight he'll never get tired of.

There's a pout tugging at your lips. “Where’d you go?” you ask, your voice thick with sleep and just a hint of a whine.

“Had to throw out the shoes angel,” he says as he steps into the kitchen to wash his hands.

Your gasp is exaggerated like he’s just committed an unspeakable betrayal. “I thought I told you I’d wash them!” you exclaim, your voice rising. 

“And I thought I tucked you into bed,” Spencer counters, his laugh soft and full of affection. “Why are you out of bed sweetheart?”

You shuffle closer, blinking up at him with drowsy eyes. “Missed you,” you say simply, your earlier outrage regarding the shoes already forgotten. “Wanna cuddle.”

Spencer’s expression softens, but he gestures to his clothes. “I’m dirty,” he reminds you gently, pointing to the coat still hanging off his shoulders and the shoes he’s yet to remove. “Outside clothes, remember?”

“Change then,” you reply stubbornly, tugging at his sleeve as though that’s the simplest solution in the world.

“I need to shower first,” he says, his voice patient as he begins to guide you back toward the bedroom.

“I didn’t shower either,” you argue, leaning heavily into his side as though that somehow strengthens your case.

“Because you’re drunk,” he replies with a small smile.

“Am not,” you insist, though your tone is far from convincing.

“Wanna tell that to my shoes?” Spencer teases, raising a brow.

You ignore him, brushing past his comment with a huff. “You’ll take too long,” you complain, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you too,” he replies, his voice tinged with amusement as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then cuddle,” you plead, your tone slipping into that sing-song quality you know he can’t resist. “Pleaseee”

Spencer hesitates, the logical part of him warring with the sight of you—soft, vulnerable, and looking at him like he hung the stars. He knows you’re usually the enforcer of the outside-clothes rule, a stickler for order when sober. But right now, you’re anything but sober, and he can’t find it in himself to deny you.

“Pleaseee,” you say again, drawing out the word for emphasis, “I’ll buy you new shoes,” your eyes wide and imploring.

He knows you probably will.

“Enough about the shoes,” Spencer rolls his eyes fighting back a smirk, “Just help me change the sheets tomorrow,” he relents, his voice warm with affection.

He knows you probably won’t. But he lets you drag him toward the bed anyways.

You beam, looping your arms around his waist in triumph. “Knew you wouldn’t say no,” you mumble into his chest.

Spencer laughs softly as you settle against him, burying your face in his chest with a soft, muffled sigh. He feels his heart swell in a way he can’t quite put into words. He’s never been one for mess—for dirt, grime, or anything out of place. Heck, he hadn't even wanted to shake your hand the first time he met you. It’s in his nature to keep things neat, orderly, clean. But now, with you?

His shoes could be ruined, his clothes crumpled, and the night an absolute whirlwind. And still, all he can think about is how peaceful you look now, your eyelids fluttering shut as sleep starts to claim you.

Spencer presses a kiss to the top of your head, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles along your back.

For you and only you, he thinks, he’d make an exception every time.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

[lizzieolseniskinda]

LOGAN HOWLETT - furrgiveness

x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)

SUMMARY: a furry animal gets your plans cancelled.

WORD COUNT: ?

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: english is not my first language and i absolutely hate this

it was a friday night at the mansion, and it was unnervingly quiet for a school. logan leaned against his doorframe, and stared at the clock, waiting for you but you never came. the two of you had planned to grab a drink at his favorite bar - nothing fancy, but it was at least something. something you both enjoyed.

except, you once again, cancelled. no reason or explanation, just a short, “sorry, can’t make it tonight.” and with that you were gone.

this was the third time that week. heck, the seventh time in two weeks that you'd bailed and logan started to notice a pattern. you weren't just ditching him, jean, storm, even scott had mentioned your sudden disappearances. but logan took it a little more personally. you didn't have to spend every waking minute with him, but the lack of explanation? that ate him from the inside out. he wasn't even sure why he kept making plans for the both of you.

now, instead of staying at the mansion like a love sick fool, waiting for another canceled plan. logan grabbed his jacket and headed out. the bar in the next upcoming town had become his escape for nights like this - when things didn't make sense, and whiskey could at least dull a smart part of his irritation.

saturday morning passed, and logan still hadn't returned.

you hadn't meant for things to happen like this, guilt had been gnawing at you for weeks, but it come to a point where it was almost unbearable. you knew logan was frustrated, just like your friends. he never did say much, but the way hs expression tightened with each cancellation told you enough.

you didn't want to cancel - not on logan, or on girl's day with jean or storm, and certainly not on scott - who always made you watch scary movies with him. scott started giving you side eyes and stern look during your training together. there was something you couldn't tell them, not yet anyway.

besides, it wasn’t even that bad.

and logan… well, he hadn't come home last night. when you canceled on him for the millionth time. not that it was unusual for him to disappear every now and then to blow off steam. but something about this time felt different. it wasn't just frustration on his part. you could see it - the hurt beneath his facade that he put up.

you decided to put the facts straight.

by saturday afternoon, you decided to make up your mind and find him. you knew where he'd be. the bar wasn't far from the mansion, a ten minute drive and 30 minutes if you walked. it was a place logan went when he needed space.

walking into the bar, you spotted him immediately, he was hunched over the counter, nursing a glass of whiskey. he didn't seem as tense as the night before, but there was still a slight shadow of frustration hanging over him.

you walked up to him quietly, sliding onto the stool next to him, he reeked of liquor and cigarettes. "logan?"

he didn't look at you right away, just took another sip from his glass. on the bar was a cigar that was halfway done. "what're you doin' here?" his voice low, gruff.

you fiddled with your fingers. "i came to talk, i thought i'd owe you an explanation."

logan finally turned to look at you, his eyes scanning your face. "yeah, you do. been bailin' on everyone, 'specially me. kinda makes a guy wonder what the hell's goin' on."

"yeah.." you replied softly, biting the inside of your cheek. "i'm sorry logan. i didn't mean to keep canceling like that. i just.. i didn't know how to explain it to you."

logan raised his eyebrow, waiting to hear your explanation.

you sighed, feeling the weight of the past few weeks pressing down on you. "there's a reason i've been avoiding plans. not that i don’t want to hang out with you - or jean or scott or anyone.”

“then what the hell is goin’ on?” logan asked, his voice laced with confusion.

you swallowed, “i’ve been taking care of something.”

logan frowned. his brows knitting together. “takin’ care of what? don’t tell me you’re dealin’-“

“no! oh my gosh, no!” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “it’s a kitten,” you admitted. “i found her outside the mansion a few weeks ago. she was sick and alone, and i couldn’t just leave her out there.”

logan blinked, i mean it was better than what he thought at first. “a kitten?”

you nodded. “yeah, she’s been needing a lot of attention- feeding, medicine, litter box you know. that’s why i’ve been cancelling everything. i didn’t mean to blow you off, logan, i just had to take care of her.”

logan stared at you, his expression softened just a bit. "why didn't you tell anyone? why keep it a secret?"

you sighed, "because animals aren't allowed in the mansion, logan. you know how strict xavier is about that. the furniture, the old wood - they don't want anything getting ruined. and i don't want anyone to get in trouble because of me."

logan let out a breath, setting his glass down with a soft thud on the bar. "so you've been sneaking around, just to take care a kitten?"

you nodded, "yeah. i thought if i could just keep it a secret it’d be okay. but… i didn’t think about how it would look for you. i didn’t mean for it to come off like i was avoiding you.”

logan was quiet for a long moment, his eyes still on you. then, after what felt like an eternity, he shook his head, a small, dry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you’re an idiot, y’know that?”

you blinked, surprised. “what?”

logan let out a low chuckle, the tension finally breaking. “you think i give a damn about some furniture or old wood? if you’ve got somethin’ goin’ on, you tell me. i can handle it- i can handle charles. you hidin’ stuff — that’s what pisses me off.”

you felt the relief wash over you, your shoulders finally relaxing. “i’m sorry, logan. i really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

logan grunted, taking another sip of his drink. “yeah, well. you did. but i get it now.”

you nodded, giving him a small, apologetic smile. “i’ll make it up to you. no more secrets, i swear.”

logan’s smirk widened slightly. “damn right, no more secrets.”

for a moment, the two of you just sat there in silence, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting. logan’s frustration had faded, replaced by the familiar ease you usually shared.

“so,” he said, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow. “what’re you gonna do with the kitten?”

you smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through you. “i don’t know yet. i’ll figure something out. maybe i should find her a home. but… for now, i’ll keep her out of trouble. away from the furniture.”

logan chuckled again, shaking his head. “you’re somethin’ else, kid.”

as the two of you sat in the bar, the tension and frustration finally fading. no more secrets, no more cancellations.

just you, logan, and maybe a kitten (or two).

“also, i’m pretty sure charles already knows. being a mindreader and all.”

[azzifuddslover]

off the court

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

themes: jealousy, angst, pining

word count: 3.1k

tw: alcohol use, swearing

a/n: hii my lovely’s! i honestly dk how i feel about this chapter, but i hope u guys enjoy it regardless. also please ignore the shift from past to present tense 😭 i realized i fucked it up like mid way thru but oh well! the movies i mentioned are also so good GO WATCH EM. and if u cant tell i love blushing i find it so cutesy. ALSO ONE SHOT IDEAS PLEASEEEEE. anyway, enjoy and hope y’all have a good week!

CHAPTER THREE

paige has a problem. it wasn’t that her aim was off, causing her to miss shot after shot. it wasn’t that her coach was yelling at her to get her head in the game. no, it wasn’t any of that. it was the fact paige couldn’t stop thinking about the curly brunette, even if her life depended on it.

ever since practice a few days ago, when azzi’s body was flush against hers, azzi had owned paige’s mind. and since her head is elsewhere, she failed to focus on everything else, especially basketball.

“what’s wrong with you?” nika asks paige, confused as to why her game was off, which is extremely rare for her.

without basketball, paige had nothing. basketball gave paige life, ever since a young age. even after trying other sports, her heart was always set on basketball. so when paige’s game had been acting up, it made her teammates, as well as coaches, confused.

paige glances at nika, “what? nothing.”

nika gave paige a don’t bullshit me look, “paige, cmon. you’ve been missing shots all day. something’s gotta be up.”

paige didn’t, wouldn’t tell nika about paige’s tiny issue. “i don’t know. bad day, i guess.”

“well get your shit together. we need you for tomorrow’s game.”

paige looks over at azzi, who was on the opposite side of the gym with caroline, “don’t worry, i will.”

later that night, paige was already laying in bed when her phone buzzes. it was a text from aubrey, asking the team group chat if anyone wanted to hang.

dorka, paige’s roommate, was already quietly sleeping on the opposite side of the room. paige looks at the time, 9:41 pm; she figured hanging out with her friends wasn’t the worst idea.

paige soon arrives at aubrey’s dorm. she opens the door to find a variety of her teammates; nika was seated on aubrey’s bed along with aubrey, lou was on the floor, while azzi and caroline were on jana’s bed, who wasn’t present.

fuck. of course azzi would show up, despite it being late at night. it was as if azzi somehow knew paige had been thinking about her- appearing just to torment her.

the two met eyes, paige held eye contact a tad longer than she normally would. heat creeped up azzi’s neck.

since there wasn’t much room on either beds, paige slumps against the bed azzi was sitting on.

“so what were y’all doing before i came in?” paige questions her teammates.

“trying to decide on a movie, but nobody is agreeing,” nika replies, annoyance in her voice.

“i say we watch she’s the man, but everyone here doesn’t have good taste, so nobody agrees with me,” aubrey says, rolling her eyes.

paige turns her head up to azzi, “what was your suggestion?”

azzi was caught off guard by paige’s question, “uh, i said about time.”

“oh my god, i love that movie. i agree with azzi,” paige announces.

azzi was shocked, to say the least. she never imagined a world where paige would agree with her.

they settle on about time. nika grabbed a few snacks and passed them around, while lou brought a few drinks in from the tiny kitchen.

a couple minutes into the film, paige grew uncomfortable with her spot on the ground. azzi noticed it by the constant shifting she had been doing. azzi reaches down to tap paige’s shoulder.

“you can come up here if you’re uncomfortable,” azzi whispers so the others wouldn’t be disturbed, while softly patting the spot next to her on the bed.

paige notices that her and carol had already shifted down, making room for paige. her lips curled into a small smile.

without a second thought, paige lifts from the floor and gently sets herself next to azzi, thighs nearly touching.

“thanks,” paige whispers. azzi simply nodded her head.

throughout the movie, paige’s thigh would occasionally graze azzi’s, sending butterflies to her stomach. there was a spark between the two, surely azzi felt it too.

caroline passes a bag of popcorn over to azzi, who instantly begins consuming it.

“can i have some?” paige questions lightly so she didn’t cause distractions for the others.

“of course,” azzi smiles, placing the popcorn in the middle of them.

their hands would graze while both going for the popcorn, paige let her touch linger longer than she should. she knew better. but her secret azzi fudd obsession got the better of her.

“sorry,” paige mutters, pulling her hand away after embarrassment covered her features.

“i don’t mind,” azzi looks at paige, a soft expression on her face.

paige had always been beautiful to azzi, but in this lighting, in aubrey’s small dorm, sitting on the same bed, mere inches apart, paige looked unreal. her blonde hair was the perfect kind of messy, lips were light pink, eyes so blue that they were practically transparent. paige’s cheeks flush at azzi’s eyes solely focused on her.

“okay guys! i’m exhausted, i’ll see y’all tomorrow,” nika jumps up from her spot, causing heads to look over at her.

paige and azzi took their attention away from each other, despite it being the hardest thing paige had to do.

“yeah, i should go too,” azzi agrees, beginning to move off the bed.

“same,” paige says, also moving from her spot.

the three say their goodbyes before leaving out aubrey’s dorm door. during the short walk down the hallway, the girls discuss their excitement for the first game of the season. they came to the end of the hall, where they could go either left, right, or continue straight. nika headed straight, off to her room. paige was going left, while azzi was going right. but both didn’t make any hints to move yet.

paige leans against the wall, azzi mimics her by doing the same on the opposite wall. a small smile crept onto her lips.

“you ready for tomorrow’s game?” paige questions the younger girl.

“beyond ready,” azzi’s smile only grows. she’s been waiting for this moment since before she could remember; her very first game in college basketball.

“you better be. i’m definitely gonna need you,” paige says without thinking. her eyes widen at her use of i’m. “we, i mean.”

azzi’s cheeks redden at paige’s comment about her needing azzi. not the team- her, accident or not.

“are you ready? you seemed kinda distracted at practice,” azzi brings up.

“i’m fine,” paige says harsher than she meant.

not wanting to deal with paige’s attitude, azzi sighs, “alright. see you tomorrow.”

paige desperately wanted azzi to stay with her. she wanted to grab her by the hand and pull her close; but she knew she couldn’t do that.

“yeah, see ya.”

the next morning, paige immediately shuts down any azzi thoughts from the previous day. she needs to focus on the game. it was the first of the season, and she eagerly wanted to make it a good one.

she brushes her teeth, washes her face, dresses herself, as dorka did the same.

“ready for this, p?” dorka smiles, excitement buzzing off her tall frame.

“always,” she matches her smile.

the two girls grab their bags and head down to the dining hall to grab some breakfast. nika, aubrey, jana, lou, carol and azzi were already seated and eating away.

paige prepares her meal before taking the spot besides jana, directly across from none other than azzi. they quickly lock eyes before looking away equally as quickly.

the team discusses plays they wanted to run in the upcoming game, all participating and giving suggestions. they soon finish eating before heading down to the gym for some smaller workouts, to get somewhat warmed up.

paige was still struggling to make her shots that she’d normally be making. when azzi notices, she casually walks over.

“can i suggest something?” azzi asks.

paige looks over at her, “hm?”

azzi strolls closer to the older girl, close enough to where paige felt her breath on

the back of her neck.

“what are you doing?” paige asks, breathlessly.

azzi places her hand on paige’s, adjusting it to where she liked. she then moves her elbow, “fixing your form.”

once azzi was done, paige shoots the ball, and is surprised to see it actually go through the basket.

“thanks, i guess,” paige grins.

the two girls continue shooting, getting their reps in when the time came to begin actual warm ups.

the game was about to begin; paige, nika, aubrey, azzi and jana were the starting 5. azzi feels an intense amount of pressure to do well, since she’s the only freshmen starting tonight.

the five girls huddle together, wide grins on their smiles, beyond ready to get this season going. paige speaks words of encouragement to her teammates as they all get into position.

uconn was up by 31 points, azzi having 19 while paige has 21.

paige runs the ball up the court, eyeing each teammate of hers. she passes the ball over to nika, who throws it over to azzi. she effortlessly makes the open 3, causing loud roars from the uconn student section.

the team was on a 9-0 run in the third quarter when paige sprints near half court and collides with a member from the other team.

azzi watches it happen and rushes over a little too quickly, for someone who claimed to hate her. azzi appears in front of the older girl, who was lying on the floor face up, and gently places her hands on her knees.

“are you okay?” azzi asks, worry laced in her tone.

paige was silent for a moment, still dazed by the impact. but when she glanced up at the brunette, a sense of calm quickly washed over her.

“yeah,” she answers, grabbing azzi’s hands that were being held out to her.

their hands held onto one another’s a moment too long. their bodies were slightly touching; neither made any movements.

it wasn’t until coach auriemma yelled at them did either of the girls make a move. paige was substituted for ashlynn to rest, and eventually, azzi was also subbed out for caroline to give other players a chance to play, as they were dominating the opposing team.

azzi settles down next to paige, the only spot open on the bench. their thighs were full on touching since the seats were so tight.

azzi rests her elbows on her knees before turning to paige, “you sure you’re okay? that fall looked like it hurt.”

paige smiles at azzi’s worry, “why? do you care or something?” she teases.

azzi’s face lit up with red, “um, no. of course not.”

paige lets out a soft chuckle before playfully pushing the brunette’s face, who who responds with a wide grin, dimples and all.

paige matches her smile with one of her own. god. she was otherworldly.

“you’re so fucking pretty,” paige mumbles, barely audible for azzi to hear, while dropping her heads, wrapping her arms under.

“sorry, what’d you say?”

“nothing,” paige replies, definitely not repeating her words.

the game ends, the teams high five one another before heading to the locker rooms.

“guys, since we played so well today, we should definitely celebrate,” jana suggests.

“what are you thinking?” nika asks, a smile tugging at her lips.

“ted’s, of course,” she laughs, “is everyone good with 7?”

each team member agree to meet at ted’s, the bar most uconn students attended, around 7. paige was buzzing at the idea of a dirty shirley temple, desperately needing one to get her mind off someone.

paige showered, applied light makeup, and picked out a comfortable but nice outfit.

around 6:55, paige leaves her apartment with dorka at her side, heading to ted’s.

the bar was absolutely packed with uconn students as well as the women’s basketball team. nika was talking to the bartender, aubrey was laughing at something jana said, while azzi was throwing back a shot.

the air seemed to shift when paige’s gaze lands on the young brunette. her heart instantly quickens as she took in her outfit. a light purple tank top that fit her in all the right places, paired with jean shorts that were doing wonders for her ass. her curls were down, slightly messy but in the most beautiful way possible.

making eye contact with paige causes azzi’s breath to hitch. heat floods her cheeks as she remembers the moments between them from earlier today.

stepping closer to the bar, paige lowers herself into an open seat, directly across from azzi who was completely surrounded by teammates. dorka took the spot next to her while lou made herself over to the two girls.

“dorka! p!” lou greets them, clearly already drunk.

“hey lou lou,” dorka smiles at her friend.

paige waves over the bartender, “can i please have a dirty shirley temple?”

the bartender nods, immediately reaching for a glass. paige was dying for a drink in her hand to take her mind off everything and everyone.

the shirley burns her throat as she took several gulps, downing nearly half the glass.

“calm down there, p,” dorka laughs at paige’s urgency to consume the drink as fast as possible.

“just thirsty,” paige replies.

after finishing her second shirley temple is when she noticed a tall man talking to azzi. her azzi. her fists clench at her sides as she throws a glare their way.

the man then lowers himself into the open seat next to her while casually shifting close, making their faces mere inches apart. azzi fidgets with her fingers, suddenly nervous from the attention.

paige presses her lips in a line to hold back her growing anger that was screaming to come out. all she wanted to do was walk over there and take what’s hers.

paige orders several more drinks, shots, whatever she could to hopefully get rid of the scene in front of her.

when a piece of azzi’s hair falls in front of her face, the man reaches out and brushes it behind her ear. his hand lingers for a moment too long, only causing paige to become more aggravated.

azzi laughs at something he said and paige decides she’s had enough. although she was completely aware she shouldn’t be doing this, she was supposed to hate azzi, she couldn’t help herself. she clutches her drink tightly in her grasp, a idea trickling in her head, and marches over there.

azzi almost instantly spots the blonde moving towards her at a rapid pace. her eyes widen when paige accidentally trips, spilling her drink all over the man.

satisfaction covered paige’s features, proud of her doing.

“jesus fucking christ!” he yelps, quickly jumping up from his position next to azzi.

“i am so sorry,” paige pretends to be genuine and concerned, even though herself and azzi knew it was complete bullshit.

the man grabs napkins, desperately trying to pat himself down, but ultimately failing. he walks away without as much as a glance back at the curly brunette, who continues to remain silent.

“did you seriously have to do that?” azzi questions paige, annoyance on her face.

“it was an accident, azzi,” paige sighs.

“sure it was,” azzi mutters as she grips her drink.

“it was,” paige replies defensively.

paige allows herself to sit where the man once was, feeling the air grow electric with the two being so close. azzi looks almost shaken by their close proximity, her eyes roaming paige’s body.

“paigey!” nika slurs, suddenly grabbing paige’s shoulders.

paige turns to her friend who was beaming, “what’s up nik?”

“oh my goodness, you totally missed it…” nika rants on and on about the hot bartender who was totally checking her out.

“i’ll be back,” nika grins as she jogs off to talk with the bartender once again.

“at least she’s getting some action,” azzi says, rolling her eyes.

“oh my god, i am so sorry i ruined the two minute conversation you had with some idiot. if you’re so interested in him, then be my guest; go find the fucker.”

“maybe i will,” azzi bites out, getting up from her spot and taking off towards the crowd.

it shocks paige that azzi actually went through with it- disappoints her, too. did she genuinely like the guy?

regretting her words, paige follows azzi’s trail, quickly catching up to the freshmen. she grabs her arm, making her twist around to face her.

“please, wait,” paige slurs in her drunken state.

“what do you want?” azzi questions, desperate to know paige’s intentions.

“you,” paige whispers, so quietly azzi can barely make it out.

“speak up, paige,” azzi replies, annoyed.

“please don’t go after him.”

azzi’s eyes crinkle, “and why not? you’re not my keeper.”

paige rests her hands on either one of azzi’s hips, uncontrollably pulling the younger girl closer.

“i know. i know,” she whispers, “just stay. stay here with me.”

azzi was taken aback from paige’s soft tone and sweet words. it was unlike paige to be like this to azzi, so azzi pieced together she must be drunk out of her mind.

“you’re drunk, paige,” azzi says.

“i’m sober enough,” paige’s lips turn up as she moves her hands to azzi’s face.

with her face in her hands, paige rests her forehead against the curly brunette’s, while her gaze drops down to her full, pink lips.

“what are you doing, paige?”

paige closes her eyes, not wanting to think about everything wrong with what she was doing and how it’d be like tomorrow.

“i don’t know. fuck, i don’t know. i just want to be close to you,” she whispers.

azzi gently places her hands on paige’s waist, pulling the older girl impossibly closer.

“fuck, az,” paige mutters, “i can’t stop thinking about you.”

paige was all azzi could hear, despite the loud crowd and blasting music around her. and her words meant everything.

“no matter how hard i try, you’re always there. you with your perfect curls and cute ass dimples,” paige smiles, twisting with a singular curl with her finger.

“oh yeah?” azzi matches the grin.

“yeah,” paige says, gaze focused on her lips.

right as paige leans in, azzi suddenly jerks back, her eyes wide with panic.

“p- paige, no. you’re drunk. you’ll regret it tomorrow,” she stutters, frantically stepping out of paige’s touch.

paige reaches out for azzi’s frame, “no i won’t.”

practically tripping over herself, azzi rushes over to her previous seat with paige right on her heels. she grabs her belongings before giving a lone glance back at the blonde; she was breathing hard, hands slightly shaking, with a disappointed yet shameful expression on her face.

azzi turns away and is gone before paige had the time to blink.

“god fucking dammit,” paige mutters to herself, ashamed of her actions that caused azzi to run off.

paige finds an open spot at the bar and orders yet another round of shots, not caring about the concerned looks she was receiving from her teammates.

paige swallows shot after shot, trying to drown her sorrows and any lingering thoughts of azzi. of course she had to ruin whatever was happening between them. of course.

“paige, don’t you think that’s enough for tonight?” aubrey cautiously questions her friend.

paige drunkenly chuckles, “not even close,” throwing back another burning shot.

[antimonyandthyme]

2k, paul/carlos

(written after the c2 / paul vid, and this post came out with the brilliant @formulahs suggesting an auction LMAO)

He goes without the expectation of buying anything. He looks forward to a good time, even with all the cameras around. The shoes his stylist wants him to go in are fanciful, shiny monstrosities, and he nearly insists for the sneakers to stay on. Then he remembers that he’s technically there for Ferrari, and dutifully swaps them out.

Technically. Paul can go for other reasons too. Charles is lovely, if a little vacant around him. Carlos is. Carlos is, he’s—

It’s early days and Paul isn’t one for poetry, and yet here he is. He hopes to god he isn’t being obvious. Not to the staff when he spots Carlos and lights up like a schoolboy with a crush. Not to Charles, when he holds on to Carlos for a handshake that’s a little longer than necessary. Definitely not obvious to whoever watches these videos, when he mouths all of the answers to Carlos.

Can’t deny having a favourite. He can turn his nose up all he wants at the reputation that follows any young actor these days, but he can’t deny his appreciation for nice things. There are no trophies in his world—yet, just good food, good drink, good people. Beautiful people. For the third time since they rolled cameras, Paul is caught staring. Carlos always looks slightly lost, staring back, like he’s trying to figure Paul out, before he ducks his head and curls up. Large hands clasped in his lap. Maybe a little shy. Maybe a little pleased.

“He’s a little expensive,” Charles says, “but you should be able to afford him.”

Paul attempts to tamper his face into something palatable. Ungracious of Charles to lay out his desires so plainly. And then in the same breath insinuate that his ability to pay might not stack up. Somewhere past Paul’s eyeline, Carlos is returning his mic to the staff with a relieved smile. Unpacking his spine into something looser, now that the cameras are off. He tips his head at Paul, eyes inquisitive, as if guessing that they were discussing him.

Paul has to look away, guilty.

“I didn’t plan on buying,” he says. It’s the truth. Mostly. In his defense, it wasn’t like Ferrari were being subtle about shoving them in a room together, especially after they made this tradition known. It’s like asking someone not to think of elephants. On command, a safari blooms open in Paul’s mind.

Charles shrugs. “We’ll have another event later. Someone else probably will.”

The flippant way Charles speaks about it grates against Paul’s skin. He can’t tell if Charles is trying to rile him up. The thought of Carlos having to hang off a faceless person’s arm makes distaste churn so violently in his belly that it manifests into an ache.

“Carlos wouldn’t mind, if it’s you.”

“How would you know,” Paul grits out. The mental fidget spinner he has for Charles keeps going around in circles, flickering from Empty to Dickhead to Helpful, maybe?

“Ah, he’s used to it no? People looking at him like that.” Charles’s voice dips low, like he’s sharing a secret. Paul’s an actor for fuck’s sake. He knows when someone’s selling him something, a mediocre contract, a shitty line. Still, he can’t help leaning in closer, puts his ear right next to Charles’s mouth.

Further away, Carlos’s mouth twists down, his gaze shutters. Just a minute, baby, Paul wants to tell him. Just—give me a minute.

“He looks back, when it’s you,” Charles says, and Paul’s done convincing himself otherwise.

--

They tell him, in one of the most bewildering conversations Paul’s ever had, that Carlos will be delivered in the evening, at whatever time suits Paul best. Delivered, like he’s some kind of package. What the fuck, sings one part of his brain. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what have you just done. The other part, the part that’s mostly primitive and hedonistic, somehow takes charge and sends him off on multiple errands. He gets his hair trimmed, just a little at the sides. He buys some wine. He changes into the sneakers. He considers getting another tattoo, before he snaps himself out of it.

Poetry and tattoos. Paul’s lost his mind.

The time in between gives him room to vacillate between wanting to feed the open maw within him and growing shamefully aware about the shape of his yearning. He hadn’t realized he had enough space within his ribcage to stuff another man entire. There are so many other ways he could have gone about this. But he doesn’t have Carlos’s number. He can’t text. Even if he could, Paul wouldn’t know what to say.

Tick tock, tick tock. Paul rearranges furniture, door dashes some flowers, after spending half an hour reading up on flower language, interspersed with vapid scrolling of his socials. Tick tock.

By the time Carlos arrives, he’s in a bit of a wreck. People who move in Carlos’s world would certainly be familiar with Ferrari’s clauses, and would know how to act. The muted greeting Carlos gives doesn’t help either. He’s dressed up but down, in a plain, almost translucent shirt that leaves little to imagination. He toes off his shoes with an unconscious gracefulness, and comes to stand in front of Paul. He’s waxed, which Paul knows, just from being so close to him this afternoon, had to have happened in that space where Paul was questioning all his life choices. He looks wonderful, except for the fact that he looks so visibly uncomfortable.

“Do you,” Paul starts. Swallowing around the dry lump in his throat. “Do you want something to drink?”

Carlos fidgets. “If you’d like,” he says.

That’s, ow.

They’d assured him, again and again, that Carlos always had the final say, but his teeth are buried in his lower lip, hard enough to blanch, and his toes dig into the carpet like a lifeline. It’s not like Paul’s hung out with Carlos more than a handful of times, but it’s hard to ever picture him in such distress. Carlos is—larger, than what he’d ever seen on screen. You have to witness him in person, to understand.

Faced with this shrunken version of Carlos, Paul can’t bring himself to continue.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. “I really am. I assumed you’d want—I’m sorry.”

Carlos flinches, jerks his head up. “Wait.”

“It’s alright,” Paul says. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. You could just leave. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Wait,” Carlos says, more urgently. “I don’t want to—” His voice grows small. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Of course not,” Paul nearly yelps. “But you’re. You’re…”

Carlos’s cheeks are very pink. His toes tap an erratic beat on the floor. His hands are clasped in front of him, almost in supplication.

“You’re nervous!”

“Yes!” Carlos blurts out, before looking very mortified. “I’m. Ah, fuck. Paul, I’m never. Never like this.”

Tension bleeds out of him. Something so relieved escapes out of Paul’s mouth in an embarrassing giggle. “Carlos. You should have just said.”

“I don’t know why…” Carlos trails off, scrubbing at the back of his neck vigorously. “With you, I’m like this. I don’t know. I want.” His toes tap some more. “I want to.”

“Want to?” Paul says, coming closer, watching Carlos sway in eagerly.

“Make it worth it,” Carlos mutters. “What you paid.”

Paul groans. He wants to shake Carlos. Then decides, hey, he actually can shake Carlos. Gentle hands around his shoulders, shaking him like a beloved ragdoll. “Oh my god. You can’t be serious.”

“It’s a lot of money,” Carlos protests, but the corners of his mouth are turned up now.

“Shut up, you’re ridiculous. Do you think I would have even paid that if, if I. Oh my god, Carlos. You have to know, right?”

“Know what,” Carlos says, enjoying being a little shit now that they’re joking.

“Can’t take my eyes off you, when you’re in the room,” Paul says. “I thought I was being obvious.”

“You were,” Carlos says brightly. “I thought I was obvious right back.”

“Okay, so. So why are you—?”

Carlos’s face twists. “This season has been. Ah.” He shakes his head reluctantly. “You don’t have to listen to this.”

“Go on,” Paul says. “Come on, tell me. Twelve hours of your time, remember?”

“Been hard to live up to expectations, this year,” Carlos says. “I didn’t want that with you.”

“You are so.” Stupid. Hot. Stupidly hot. “I’m going to shake you some more,” Paul says. “I cannot believe you.”

“That’s fine,” Carlos says. He goes along with the shaking, in a way that shows exactly how much of his body he’s putting into Paul’s hands. A neck as thick as that and he’s somehow limp under Paul’s touch. That’s, well. That’s a lot. “Then maybe, maybe. You could kiss me?”

Yes, yes. Yesssssssss, sings both parts of Paul’s brain. Yes.

Carlos is still now, expectant. A long, lean line of muscle, rooted to the ground, that Paul can trace hungrily with his eyes. He could pull at Carlos with all his strength and Carlos would not move, if he did not want to. But when Paul nudges a finger under his jaw, Carlos goes, looks up, right at him. Leans in.

--

He’s a greedy little thing, isn’t he. Swallows Paul with ease, every which way. He makes insane noises, deep, and guttural when Paul fucks him hard, high, and breathless when Paul thumbs at his nipples. Carlos clutches at Paul like it’d physically hurt to let go. Everything he’s meant to do, he does and is wonderful at it. And somehow, he’d managed to assume he wouldn’t live up.

“Unbelievable,” Paul says to the ceiling, some time after he’d come so viciously it felt like he’d been wrung out like a dish towel. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Are you still mad at me,” Carlos says, amused.

“Yes.”

“Ay, don’t be,” Carlos says, softly. “I really was nervous.”

Paul turns on his side, hand supporting his head as he gazes at Carlos. Crazy intimate. Terrible, the way he’s setting himself up for the worst time. He can’t bring himself to care.

“You’re allowed to stay the night?”

“Twelve hours,” Carlos says. “You can ask me to do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” Carlos confirms. “Sleep at the foot of the bed, if you want.”

Why would he even say such a—Paul is going to shake him again. If he can unpretzel himself from all that easy comfort following an earth-shattering orgasm. He nudges at Carlos’s hip instead. It’s the closest body part he can find.

“I kick in my sleep,” Paul says seriously, delighting in the way that makes Carlos giggle. He pats the scant space next to him. “I’d rather you be right here.”

“I’ll be right here,” Carlos says, then clears his throat. He probably was just parroting Paul, didn’t mean for it to sound so much like a promise.

But Paul… is also a greedy little thing, isn’t he? So greedy he paid for it, and so greedy he wants more now that he’s had a taste.

“And after?” Paul says. Will you be…?

“After,” Carlos says, “after Las Vegas is Qatar. Then Abu Dhabi.”

“Fine,” Paul says. As let downs go, this is pretty devastating, but he’ll live. It’s not like he had expected—never mind.

Carlos shifts. His jaw unlocks, then clicks back. “You get discounts, after, did you know that? Very good discounts.”

“Oh,” Paul says, a little wobbly. “Do I?”

“Yes. And after Abu Dhabi, it’s. It’s free.”

“Ah.” His chest is squeezing tighter than a fist. The space in his ribcage! Expanding and contracting to accommodate whatever Carlos sees fit. He lets himself imagine pressing up close to Carlos in a quiet apartment, pulling out every sound in Carlos's vocabulary with time, unlimited, on his hands. Buying flowers he knows for sure Carlos likes.

“I guess I need to stick around."

“Guess so,” Carlos says, smiles. “Make it worth your while.”

[kousanosgf]

men, minors dni

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

sevika x f!reader

you take care of sevika when both of you decide to spend the night at the club

tags: fluff, lap dance, oral (sevika receiving), fingering (sevika receiving)

an: was written while i was listening to my soft/chill tyla and rosalia playlist, keep it in mind for the atmosphere (⁠⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

the night was still young but the party was in a full swing. you were not yet drunk on the alcohol but the atmosphere and music made you euphoric. you were dancing for the past hour, the gentle beats of the drums, mbiras and xylophones, guitar string that jumped from upbeat to more sensual led your body. it was something you preferred more than the hard electronic noise of other clubs, which were more common in zaun.

though something or someone was missing. you left the dancefloor, making your way to the bar. a bartender nudged a glass of water your way and you took it in one swing, thankful to the woman.

hands captured your waist from behind, one real and the other mechanical, a body pressed close to your back.

"vika", you smiled and reached your hand back, sliding a palm on sevika's neck. "i'm all sweaty". you wrinkled your nose smiling.

"you often are when we're together", the woman whispered in your ear with heat but it only made you laugh. sevika was in your favorite drunk mood: touchy and blabbering sweet nonsense.

"missed you", she sighed heavily, like you didn't came here together. "well, someone could've dance with me". sevika only huffed out, grumpy, making you giggle again.

you signaled to a bartender for a new set of drinks. as you untangled yourself from sevika's grip you took the glasses, pushing one in her hand. "come on, baby", you moved away from the bar to the private booths, choosing one and closing the heavy curtains.

the booth was nice, muted colours, little trinkets hanging here and there, inviting soft and, mostly important for саун, clean pillows. sevika plopped down on the seat, drowning in the cushions.

she was too quiet today, not that she would run her mouth nonstop in your or anyone else's presence, but definitely more quite than usual. "what's wrong?", you poked her gently in the side as you took your place beside her. she just grumbled in response. okay, so no reason really, you blamed alcohol for her attitude.

"did you watch me dance?", you try to get her mind out of the dark places. you put your knees under yourself to sit a little higher to be able to put your arm around her shoulders. she leaned into your embrace.

"barely. too much people", sevika answers, clearly sulking over the fact.

she never was the one to care for parties and definitely not participating in them, usually preferring some dimly lit bars and a long card game. but ever since you appeared in her life she made sure to follow you around to the clubs. "just care for your safety, princess", sevika would say. and that's a solid reason, zaun can be harsh on anyone, so noone would say no to a woman like sevika taking a role of a bodyguard. in this case though she *loved* seeing you move as if the dancefloor was your natural habitat, your home.

"been staring at me the whole night from your dark corner. people probably think you're some creep", you joked everytime later, when you went back home or moved somewhere private, like today.

"let me make it up to you", you untangle yourself from her and climb on her lap. sevika's real hand immediately gribs your thighs, running up to cup your ass cheek.

"no touching, babe. it's a performance." you smile and slap her hand away playfully. sevika frowns but doesn't try to do anything else.

you let your hair down, slowly dragging the hair band. the muffled music changed to something more slow, fortunately setting the right mood, you hummed the tune.

sevika's gaze was turning heated and hungry by a second, following your hands as they dragged on you body, starting with you hips, going up to your sides, to your neck, tangling in your hair and moving back, all while you swayed from side to side, making waves with your torso, coming closer and father to press against sevika's body.

"don't be mean", she whined under you after couple of songs, her fingers twitching in a need to touch.

and you were being mean, you knew that. you just couldn't help yourself to tease your girlfriend when she was so cute, all mushy and relaxed.

"told you, i'll make it up to you", you leaned closer, whispering in her ear.

the sound of a zipper opening is too loud. you can feel yourself on edge already. but this is not about you. you raise your eyes, looking over sevika's face. her eyes arr closed, she's breathing heavily. she's beautiful like that, she always is, really. but something about her soft expression, how relaxed she is under you awakens butterflies in your stomach.

her hands grip your waist as you move to stand up, holding you on her lap.

"come on, vika", you protest and push her hair out of her face. "if you want something, i gotta stand up". she let's you but complains while she does it.

you slide down on the floor, sitting on your knees now in front of her. sevika feels a tap on her hips and raises them to let you make a quick work of taking off her pants and underwear.

she's not wet enough yet, you notice as you slide your fingers between her folds but it's not much of a problem. you love taking it slow with her, spending all the time in the world leaving kisses and light bites on her inner thighs, while your hands roam around her body, squeezing her waist, feeling her muscles, your fingers traveling up and down the hair on her stomach.

"please" sevika whines and that's exactly what you were waiting for, that's how you know she's ready.

you move closer, though it feels like you can't be even more, skin touching skin. your fingers slide with ease inside of her and you feel like you're the one who needs to moan in pleasure. her pussy is hot, clenching around your digits.

"so good, baby. so pretty". you praised her because how could you not. sevika holds herself from moving too much so she wouldn't mess up the game you're playing, her hips staying in place but already trembling.

"don't even need to tell you what to do, yeah? always know what i want from you".

at last, as you move the tips of your fingers inside of her, you put your mouth on her. your tongue flat, you try to get as much as you can, starting from the place your fingers connect with her hole, going up, pressing on her clit and dragging it to her press. the sounds she makes are heavenly, sevika is so worked up she moans loudly, arching her back. you sure if anyone stands right outside the booth, they could hear it. it only makes you want her more, to make her scream that everyone in the club would know how weak she's for you. the woman who scares every thug on the streets of this city turns into a soft and whiney mess in your arms. that kind of power makes you dizzy.

you suck on her clit, hollowing your cheeks to put more pressure.

"wait", sevika breaths out.

"what's wrong, baby? already ready to cum?"

both of you want it to last so you give her time, withdrawing your lips and fingers completely and going back to caressing her inner thighs.

"gonna eat you out so good, gonna make you feel so good, vika."

her hands press on your head when she decides she's ready, guiding you back to her dripping cunt.

"need to promise me one thing, though", you smile as she nods without questions.

"look at me, 'kay? don't close your eyes."

you return to where you stopped. you try to be soft and careful at first, kissing her folds, occasionally flicking your tongue between them or pressing it on her clit, all while you hold her gaze. you smirk and huff out as her eyes remind you of some sad puppy, asking for more.

"fuck", she swears as you quicken you moves, getting messier. you can swear that's where you belong. between her thighs, squeezing your head so all the noise becomes muffled, like you're underwater, your tongue deep inside of her and your nose rubbing her clit.

it's cute, you think, how obedient she is for you, still trying to look you in the eyes, as you asked her, fighting the need to roll them back and just arch her back, leaning her head on the sofa back.

your face is drenched in her juices, few drops falling on the floor between your knees. you're so worked up, your panties are probably all wet but your pleasure isn't a top priority now. and honestly seeing sevika brake under your mouth is pleasurable enough.

as you feel her squirming and moaning more and more, you know she's close, so you put your arms under her knees and raise them on your shoulders. she never lets you do it while she still can control the situation, worried that it's too much for your smaller frame. but now sevika is going crazy with her own pleasure and you don't have to deny yourself.

it takes her couple more seconds to cum finally. her eyes roll back and she gives herself a moment of weakness as she throws her head back but quickly returns back to hold your gaze when she remembers your request.

you guide her through her orgasm, slowing your moves and letting go of her legs.

"relax, sweetheart", you laugh as you finally tear yourself from her pussy and climb back in her lap. your hand covers her eyes and you feel her eyelashes flutter, tickling your palm.

"you're a dream, vika."

sevika reaches for your lips and you meet her halfway through. the kiss is slow and sloppy, both of you need time to get some air and steady your breath. her cheeks now wet too. it does something to you, seeing her own juice on her face, makes you want more of her.

"fuck, vika. gonna destroy you when we get home. promise."

[ughdontbeboring]

Sweet boy

Feyd Rautha x WoC Reader (can be read by anyone)

Yours and Feyds son has a moment and you can’t help your reaction.

warnings none but fluff honestly lol

note: so this was NOT what I was supposed to be working on but I came across it in my notes and just couldn’t stop my fingers 😅 but this is inspired by one of my favorite Feyd arts of him as a child. I’m so upset I can’t find it or the artist. It’s like different drawings of him or his face as a child and he gives the meanest side eye lol so if yall know what im talking about please send it my way so i can tag the artist so others can see it.

If yall like it, love it or fucks with it please share and comment! I love talking to y’all about our mans.

I give no permission for my work to be used anywhere.

it’s fluff and short babe but it’s Feyd so you know 😭 @peggyao3 also again not what I’m supposed to be working on 🥲🥲🥲

x

x

⚔️

The day had been long and tedious but you would not trade it for anything when it dwindles down to become this kind of evening. One which you were lucky to say you had often when your husband wasn’t away for diplomatic purposes. Even then you usually all stayed together more often than not. 

The large tinted floor to ceiling windows on the right side of the dinning room allowing for a view of the planets setting white sun to shine its last bit of light on your blessed life. The tint allowed the room to stay bathed in all its natural colors. Your skins hue still vibrant against the elegant black dress that you had chosen for the day. 

You couldn’t wait to get back to your shared bedchambers and slip into nothing but your silk bed sheets and your husbands arms.

Your eyes drift back to the table you’re seated at with the two loves of your life. Years ago no one could have convinced you THIS would be your life and you’d be the HAPPIEST you’d ever been or could be. None of the of wise women of your home planet could have foretold this. Not even your own visions nor dreams could have conjured enough to convince you this was the life you wouldn’t only lead but love with every once of your being. 

But when you take in your husbands jewel blue eyes that are already watching and only soft for you, you smile happily before your eyes slowly land on the beautiful boy sitting before you and to Feyd’s right from the head of the table.  

And just as your heart swells with more love than either you and Feyd ever thought possible, a loud laugh erupts from deep within your chest. 

You slap a jeweled hand over your mouth to try and contain your laughing from the startled identical faces before you. 

You’re in a fit of giggles as you feel both your husband and son’s look of confusion and it only makes you laugh harder.

You miss your husband’s face of pure awe at the sight before him even if he is confused he can’t help but be in awe of the women he somehow convinced to love him as deeply as you do, full of joy.

You wipe at the tears that have started to spill as you catch Feyd soft questioning eyes.

“I-I’m sorry but he looked just like you with his little evil side eye” you reveal in between laughs. 

Feyd looks on proudly at your son who’s looking between the both of you with his face scrunched up not fully understanding or liking the attention and laughs at his expense. 

Your son had just gave the most evil side eye to the servant who put the extra vegetables on his plate at your request. And all you could see was Feyd. They looked almost identical already and in that moment it was your husband who was a 5 year old boy not wanting to eat the food before him. 

And for all the reasons in the world it made your heart happy. 

“Looking just like your father” you say again as you control your laughing. You can feel the pride rolling of off both of them. “A grumpy baby”. 

“What?!” Your husband yells in disbelief, the fork and meat hanging mid air the same time your son yells his own defense.

“Mother I AM NOT A BABY!” His little voice rages before you with no true anger. 

“Don’t raise your voice at your mother” Feyd scolds quickly.

Your all smiles though. This was all you ever needed. 

“Yes you are, you are my baby always” You tell him as you take in his little face, the beautiful child you both created. The best of both of you. 

He huffs and crosses his little arms across his chest. The angry face he’s trying to pull off is completely identical to his father’s. You could draw it in your sleep the amount of times you’ve seen it over the years.

“Come here” you call to him softly as you push your chair back slightly. 

“No” he says trying to stand his ground that he is not a baby.

“Do not tell your mother no” Feyd scolds again watching the two of you go back and forth with eyes full of love.  if your husband continues on this path and your sure he will, none of your children will ever tell you no or misbehave with you. Feyd has spoiled you almost rotten, your son has received the same attention from his father. The amount of times he’s done wrong and Feyd has come to his defense, you too but you always stress the he can’t be quick to anger.

He had nothing of yours physically expect for you spiced blue eyes, which you weren’t sure how long they last so blue without a constant exposure to spiced air. You were born to parents who were born to parents and so on and so on for as long as you could say who had been born to and live with spice exposure. It was literally apart of your blood. So it made you happy that was the one thing that couldn’t escape your son who spent most of his time on Giedi Prime. So it made you sad to think about the fact that he could loose it one day but you tried to make frequent enough trips to your home planet to help him keep his Fremen feature and traits. 

Feyd allowed him to be born on Arrakis much to a lot of displeasure from some of Giedi Prime. You just couldn’t see giving birth here and raising a child here almost full time, you needed your people, your culture to be apart of his life. Plus you both knew it was the only way for your son to be accepted, he needed to embrace both half’s of who he was if he was going to make a great change one day. Greater change than even you and Feyds union.

It was worth noting all of the people who were displeased with your birthing choice weren’t around anymore to speak on it. 

His personality? It was 60/40 usually, him always leaning towards his father’s ways of behavior especially right now. Right now he was 100% his father’s child. 

“Come here my sweet boy” you call again. 

“Mother I am not a sweet boy! I’m brave and scary” He says as he makes his way around the back of Feyd towards you, very slowly. The posture straight in his small body. 

You pull him in quickly once he is in arms reach. Your hands hold his little precious face gently as you plant kisses all over. You can feel his posture slowly start to loosen.

“Yes you are, you may not be sweet to others that is yet to be seen but you will always be sweet to your mother yes?” You ask softly as you stare into his deep eyes that mirror yours. 

You hear a small but confident “Yes, always Mother” as all the fight leaves him and he snuggles into your body embracing you back fully. His little arms reaching around your neck and squeezing tightly. Your eyes tear a little and you know it’s just your hormones. You have a couple weeks before your due it’s still been an emotional roller coaster everyday. 

You’re so wrapped up in your little boy in your arms you don’t notice your husband. Feyd is over the moon seeing his child get the love he never received. Seeing his wife who he adores more than anything loving their child, his child, a child that looks and acts just like him regardless of what he may have done wrong that day. Your love for him was unconditional. 

He loves to see you showering him with love and care even on his bad days when he’s throwing a tantrum. 

This was everything Feyd never knew he wanted and needed. 

He’d burn everything down to protect this, their little growing family. 

⚔️

[miaoua3]

Hello! Can you write an sfw/nsfw headcannon version for soonyoung pls? Love your writing!🫰

hii! ofc i can, it would be my pleasure, i hope you enjoy this!

Husband! Hoshi Headcanons

•(sfw! hcs):

we all already know that he’s a cuddle bug, but the extent that his need to be touching you goes to is beyond what any of us could imagine. he’s constantly up in your space, touching you in any way possible. if you are doing chores around the house, instead of helping you by doing something, he will just hang onto your shirt and follow you around, talking animatedly. if you are sitting down, you better expect for his head to be resting on your shoulder

whenever he needs something, he just calls for you (aka screams “baaaabee!”through the house until you hear him and come to him lmao), doesn’t matter that most of the times the thing that he’s looking for is right in front of him, he’s a bit blind sometimes (or so he tells, in reality he does it because he finds your annoyed little pout so adorable)

instead of kissing, he loves to often rub your noses together as a sign of affection, something about just feels so silly and cute and domestic to him he can rarely resist the urge to do it, plus you always smile so brightly whenever he does it so its a win-win situation

he loves that with you he can be as childish and silly as he wants, that you will always join him in his silly missions to make everyone laugh, that you will always laugh along with him no matter how ridiculous and stupid his jokes are. he loves that you are his youth quite literally, and that with you along his side, he can climb on top of the world

three words: matching tiger pyjamas. you didn’t have much of a choice, really, he just bought them for you two one day, and as you tried to let him down gently, his big brown puppy eyes looked at you pleadingly, ready to say “please?” as you were about to refuse him, and suddenly you just sighed in defeat. so guess which pyjamas you two wear the majority of the month, except for the few says it takes to wash and dry them?

compliments you all the time-both when he intends to and when he isn’t even aware that what he said is considered a compliment. for example, if you are getting ready, doing your makeup or taking it off, he will just come behind you, hug you and while smiling say “you are so very pretty, the prettiest in this whole wide world. i must’ve saved korea as a nation in my past life to get the honour of having you in this life.”, or for the times when he is unaware of it-you were just looking at some flowers as you were walking through a botanic garden when he said “i don’t know much about flowers, but whenever i see this flower (points to a, say, hibiscus), it reminds me of you, because you both are so pretty and look so gentle.” bro isn’t even trying yet he got you crying

loves loves LOVES surprising you with at-home picnics, just as you walk through the door of your house, he’s running towards you, taking your hand so he can lead you to the living room where the stuff is all set up-the white bedsheet handing from two chairs, under the sheet fairy lights wrapped around the chairs, a blanket on the floor with lots and lots of food spread on it. he loves how it always makes you smile and how easy it is to make you happy

•(nsfw! hcs):

has stamina of a BEAST, like it isn’t enough that he seemingly gets boners all the time, the sight of your collarbones is enough to make him hug your from behind, slowly grinding his hips against your ass while he mumbles “please babe, lemme make you feel good hm? it’s been so long since i’ve fucked you, let me make you cum on my dick” (btw it hasn’t even been that long, you two had sex two days prior but ok lmao). the moment he sees you close your eyes, he knows he’s won. cue at least 3 hours of him pounding into you, his skin slapping against yours, both your skins burning from the force they meet. at some point you feel so exhausted that you just lay there, face in the pillow, while he holds your hips in the air as he fucks you from behind

is so enthusiastic about eating you out that he overstimulates you, not only are his fingers fast inside of your pussy, but he’s sucking on your clit so hard, it makes tears fall from your eyes very easily. he just wants you to feel so good (but also to squirt all over his face) that he can spend hours just lapping at your juices, mumbling “c’mom pretty girl, just one more, make a mess on my face, that’s what it’s for, it’s for you to sit on it and make yourself cum on it” bsjqbsjqkq

speaking of-dirty talk with him goes CRAAAZY, not even because he wants it to, he just says whatever it’s on his mind, his thoughts a mess thrown up the moment they appear in his mind. he’s a moaning mess, sucking hickeys into your skin, kissing you sloppily, all while he’s repeating “pussy so good, fuck, want to stay here forever. want to cum inside of you all the time, to make you full with my cum-shit, ahh, so tight, im gonna-“ cue more moaning and whining as he nears his end

on the same note- breeding kink. we all know that one clip where he said he wants a whole football team (thank you scoups for the metaphor lmao). and even now, he often talks about getting married and having kids, so i think the moment he put that ring on you, he got down to BUSINESS. i’m talking he soaks your pussy AND your sheets with hair cum, if he could, he would make you wear a plug so none of it spills out and that it’s 100% sure that you end up pregnant from it. the thoughts of your heavy, full and lactating breasts, your round belly, and a little girl that has a smile just like yours, haunt his dreams on the daily

he is unintentionally so rough, like not only does he manhandle you into positions that he needs you in, if you are too far gone to be listening to him, he will just grab you by your neck to get your attention, or pull on your hair so you can watch him fuck you in the mirror, eyes trained on your gaping mouth and bouncing tits. the thing is- he doesn’t do it out of the need to be dominant, it’s just that it’s a part of his fantasy, of exactly what he imagined for that night to be, so if you aren’t following it, he will take the matter into his own hands (quite literally).

he isn’t really sure why, but he loves it when you end up crying from the overstimulation and pleasure, and when you mascara runs down your cheeks. you just look so ruined, and it makes him feel so good and smug that he’s the only one that has the honour of seeing you sobbing for him to both stop and to cum inside of you, the only one who gets to squish your mascara stained cheeks together and make you focus on him, the only one that makes your legs tremble and shake every day. the only one that gets to fuck a baby into you. the only one you crave.

(act surprised for this one) he is low-key into collars. he isn’t all that sure about leashes, but a pretty little collar wrapped around your pretty neck? and if it has a heart shaped buckle? he is a goner. he won’t ever recover from the amount of fantasy material the sight gives him, how primal it makes him feel. plus the look you make whenever he puts two fingers through that heart shaped buckle and pulls you towards him by it? it will literally make him kneel in front of a god and thank him for that sight (not really something he should discuss with a god, yknow, given that it’s about your sex life and all that but eh, whatever lol)

[jaembun]

your golden arrow went through my heart.

dancing together at a wedding.. he can’t help but think about your own ！⠀⸻⠀na jaemin x gnr ⠀ fluff he’s soooo downbad ⠀ wc 1.5k ⠀ now playing . . ☆

생각⠀FFFFFFUCKKKKK I NEED HIMMM. plagiarising myself sorry yeonjun

the smell of champagne, perfume, cake, and smoke was rife in the large hall, multicoloured lights bouncing off every wall and poking into every crevice of the high ceiling. you knew jaemin’s family was fairly large, of course, but for every guest they must’ve extended an invite to at least three of their friends as well—everywhere you looked there was another person: a niece there, a work friend of his father’s here, an uncle there.

but you supposed the extravagance and the sheer size was necessary for a wedding—jaemin’s cousin’s, to be specific, who looked gorgeous in a gold-accented gown with the train and jewels to match, and who was currently being spun around on the dance floor by her newly wedded husband. the ceremony was beautiful, the reception was beautiful, and perhaps the most beautiful of all was the who-knows-how-many-tiers of wedding cake that you’d already helped yourself to three slices of, as well as reluctantly feeding jaemin bites of when he’d pouted and tugged at your hand until you’d given in.

he looked satisfied now, nestled into your side in the quietest corner of the almost-pitch-black hall while the music played and people danced, his younger relatives twirling each other in circles or skidding along the smooth flooring with balloons tied around their wrists and confetti stars glittering whenever they caught the lights from where they were tangled within their hair. other guests had chosen to hang back, settling at the tables nearer the other end of the venue (and nearer the food) with glasses in their hands and smiles on their faces. 

the pair of you hadn’t spoken in a while, content to sway gently to the music, and you assumed he’d fallen quiet because he was tired; worn out from the job that was trailing around the hall and saying hello to all the people he knew and a few he didn’t. and while that had taken a little out of him, the reality was that jaemin was only silent because he was biting his tongue—out of fear he’d do something stupid like get on one knee and propose to you right there and then, with nothing except his pocket square as a makeshift ring and the burning urge to ask you to be his for as long as you’d have him.

he wouldn’t do that, of course. it’d get him kicked out for stealing his cousin’s thunder, for starters. it’d be like his aunt standing up on a table and announcing that she was pregnant. the second reason was simply that he didn’t know what you’d say.

well. actually, not really. he would bet fairly confidently that you’d say yes—but you’d say it eventually. now was.. too soon. he’d need to have drawn up a down-to-the-last-detail plan, secure approval from all of your friends and family, and asked renjun for the best place to get the rings before he could even think of asking. it was just—how could he be standing here with you, in amongst all the love and the glitter and the music, and not think of dropping to one knee? he was holding on, but just barely. it would’ve taken nothing more than seeing the disco lights reflecting in your eyes for all his resolve to deplete, and so he focused on melding himself into your side and staring out onto the dance floor. 

that was, until you slid a hand from out of his hold and around his waist, tugging him to face you and gesturing towards the place you’d both just been watching, asking without saying a word. he could do nothing except nod and let himself be led, teeth pressing into his bottom lip. “marry me,” he wanted to scream, but instead he slung his arms over your shoulders and leaned in to rest his head too close to yours, breaths intermingling as you began an easy sway to the music.

the slow dancing had long been left behind, so your relaxed pace was slightly out of place compared to everyone else, but neither of you could really bring yourselves to care. jaemin would’ve been content to stay like that until the lights turned on again, but was startled by your sudden whispering: “you okay?”

he recovered quickly, easy grin on his lips as he replied, “of course. why wouldn’t i be?” but then he was looking into your eyes as he said it, and the song was just right, and your touch was so gentle—he was tripping over himself into his next words, head crashing down onto your shoulder as he pulled you closer. “i was just.. thinking about the day it’s us doing this, is all.”

when jaemin felt you still for a moment under his palms, his heart dropped to his feet—worried he’d overstepped by even bringing it up, head whipping back up again to laugh it off. but what he found in your face wasn’t disgust or discomfort, it was more gentle surprise, mouth opened with nothing to say. his hands slowly rose to cup your cheeks, and the warmth that met his palms made it impossible to hide the jaw-aching smile his mouth stretched into.

you shied away from his touch, shoulders hunching up in embarrassment at his smile, and jaemin was going to die. his heart was going to burst all over you in a shower of golden confetti and multicoloured stars, he was sure of it. he pressed as close as he possibly could, determined to leave absolutely no space between you, and brought his hands to rest lightly on either side of your neck, fingertips almost touching at the nape. your lips moved to speak, and your voice was quiet, shy. he fell in love all over again.

“jaem. you can’t.. you can’t say that here. it’s too—i’ll get—you just can’t. really.”

“why?” and he had no shame in his whiny tone, pout already on his face. your slow movements turned a little frantic when he twisted the both of you side to side in protest, ignoring a few looks from others on the dance floor. “i’m excited! just—just imagine. me and you. married. it’s gonna be the best.” 

eyes locked with yours, he could see the exact moment you decided to indulge him. “oh really? what colour’s your suit gonna be?”

“your favourite colour.” and jaemin knew he was being over-the-top, knew you’d only scoff and roll your eyes back at him, and he didn’t care. it was true. his suit your favourite colour, the cake your favourite flavour, the music your favourite playlist. he’d do it all for you.

“so sappy, jaem,” you teased, head leaning forward until your foreheads rested against one another. “keep it up and i might start to think you’ve got a ring box at home.”

not yet. but soon. after a talk with renjun. after a little more time. some part of jaemin wished he did have one stashed away in an unused draw, though. so he could spring it on you as soon as next week, get all the words he wanted to propose to you with out of his head, to hold your hand and feel the cool metal of an engagement band against his skin. not yet. soon. he repeated the words aloud to you, delighted at how the skin of your nape flushed hotter under his touch.

“i wanna kiss you.” his gaze was unwavering, hands desperate around your neck, cheeks red and grin gleaming at you through the dark. 

you flustered again, hands dipping in and out of his back pockets just for something to do, somewhere to put them. “not—not here. everyone can see.”

jaemin was still unbothered, knowing, annoying. “don’t care. i’ve been showing you off all night, they know you’re mine. and it’s dark!”

your shoulders heaved in a put-upon sigh, and he knew he’d won, leaning in and smiling into it. no matter how many times he’d done this, it always felt like the first time for jaemin—colours exploding behind his closed eyes, his whole body feeling golden. he chased you every time you tried to pull away, coaxing you back in, not letting you up for air until both of you were desperate for breath.

“one day,” he mouthed into your jaw, voice no louder than a whisper. “it’ll be us. it will. i’ll be so—i’ll make it—just. i promise.”

“okay, jaem,” you whispered back, hands now fully settled wrapped around his waist. “okay.”

the song shifted into another, and it was one you both knew; both loved. he couldn’t stop smiling even when you halted your soft swaying in place of more energetic, fitting movements, and instead joined in with you—fingers interlocked, his eyes on you the whole time. talks of weddings and proposals and suit colours could easily be discussed another time. tomorrow, if he wanted. it’d been fun entertaining ideas for a while, but tonight, now, he was going to enjoy himself. with you. the only reason he was having those dreams at all.

[help-i-lost-my-sock]

Electric Blue

Word count: 8,200

Tags: NSFW, 3rd POV, past tense

Established relationship, romantic sex, lingerie, oral (f & m receiving).

Summary: Sanji’s lady decides to spoil him, but Sanji is a giver himself.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

It was no secret that Sanji loved the finer things in life - whether they be fine women, fine cuisine, or fine couture. So what finer way than for the woman of his dreams to spoil him than to bring those things together? 

First was a five course menu served with all his friends. 

Then, a couple glasses of the finest red they had in stock, sipped at a small table on deck, with just the two of them under the bright moonlight and the myriad of stars that freckled the night sky. 

When the chilly breeze overpowered the warmth of the wine, it was time to head in. Sanji, ever the gentleman, slipped his suit jacket off and gently draped it over her shoulders, before leading her to the door. How she adored him. He’d open the doors along the way for her, and hold her hand as she walked down the stairs. Every time he looked her way she could see the love in his eyes. There was a certain glimmer in his eyes that often made his expression border on awe. That night was no different, as Sanji watched her every move, and hung on every word that left her beautiful painted lips with such ardent love and fascination that one might have wondered whether she might just be his All Blue. 

And there they were - at their bedroom door. Sanji’s hand reached for the doorknob and let the door fall open before her. Those beautiful red lips smiled at him as she entered the room, with him in tow. 

Her hands still clung to the jacket on her shoulders. It was so warm, and smelt like him - a mix of cologne, and cigarette smoke. His scent always made her feel so comfortable and safe - she practically radiated joy whenever he was around. 

Closing the door behind them, he turned towards her. “May I take your coat, ma’am?” he asked with a soft smile. 

His love turned her back towards him, and tucked her flowing hair out of the way. Sanji gently lifted the jacket off her shoulders and neatly placed it on a hanger that hung off a hook on the wall. 

Meanwhile, she went to sit down at their desk. She carefully undid her earrings, placing them in a small jewelery box he had gifted her on their 10th date. She read the inscription above the little mirror in the box - ‘No jewel can shine as bright as you’. The words never failed to bring a tender smile to her lips. Sanji was far more precious than any jewel under the sun. 

Having finished hanging the coat, Sanji turned to find her hands were just reaching for the clasp of her necklace. In an instant, he traversed the small space between them. Standing just behind her, his large, warm hands gently grabbed hold of hers. 

“Allow me, m’lady” he said, his tone warm and loving.

His nimble fingers made quick work of the dainty clasp, and he carefully removed the thin and fragile necklace from her neck. 

“Thank you,” she said softly as she turned around to face him. 

“It’s only natural,” he said as he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. 

His lips were warm and soft against her cold skin. His eyes lifted to meet hers, concern written over his face. 

“My love, you are freezing. Let’s get you in bed before you catch a cold.” 

“Yeah, let’s,” she murmured softly, a subtle smile on her face. 

Sanji gently tugged her up by the hand, and she slowly rose to her feet. Upright, she took a step forward, pushing her chest against her partner. The angle gave Sanji a great view into her decollete, now pressed flush against him. 

Her head tilted, as she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes and a small, sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Her index finger rubbed against the stubble on his chin as she spoke. 

“I think I might need some help,” she said, trailing off. Her hands found his, and gently placed them on her sides, before pushing them as far up along her back as she could, towards her dress’ zipper. 

Sanji’s heart skipped a beat when he noticed the look in her eyes as she moved his hands over her body. He wasn’t quite sure what he’s ever done to deserve a woman like her, but he certainly felt blessed. 

He couldn’t help but trail his hands up and down over her form a couple of times. There was a choked gasp when he realised how unusual and intricate the sensation beneath her dress was. Had she been wearing it this whole time? The thought made him swallow dryly. 

A sly smirk tugged at her lips as she saw the realisation dawn on his face. She tucked her hair out the way once more, making sure there’s none left near the zipper. 

“Could you help me… out of this dress?” Her voice feigns innocence, but the look on her face betrays her intention. 

She could feel Sanji’s hands travel up to undo her zipper. He was slow, and gentle, as usual. He took his time, savouring the sight of the soft material falling apart to reveal the beauty beneath. She can feel his breath growing ragged as it hits her skin. 

The zipper was down, her dress now held up merely by the pressure between them, and their eyes met once more. 

She took a small step back, allowing gravity to do its work. The fabric hit the ground with a light thump, revealing her final surprise of the night, and leaving Sanji’s jaw hanging. 

Sanji’s eyes travelled down her body. Her heavenly bosom plumped up in a lace push up bra of bright, electric blue. Between her breasts, shone a small, pale blue jewel. Underneath, the bra was linked by short, thin straps to a somewhat broad, elastic band that hugged her ribs. 

The garterbelt too had such a band at the top - plain and simple - before it gave way to intricate patterns of soft lace and silky bows, as they hugged his woman’s hips. 

Matching blue lace panties peaked from underneath the lace and ribbons. 

Thin straps trailed from the high waist band of her garter, down the lace, and finally down her legs, where they clasped around the tops of her hold ups. 

Her supple legs, too, bore the same broad, blue bands around her thighs. Flowing from the bands, the top of her stockings was detailed with small, but intricate floral design, similar to those on her other garments. The lace offered a small glimpse at her skin in between the fragile lacy petals, before the stocking turned skin-coloured and smooth, and disappeared into her high heels. 

She smiled slyly as she watched Sanji take in the various intricacies of her latest purchase. A drop of blood peeked from Sanji’s nose - a job done well, it seemed. 

Sanji admired her in breathless awe - the woman he loved and who loved him back, her soft touch, her honeyed voice as she calls his name, her perfectly beautiful curves, framed so tantalisingly by the killer set she went through the trouble of putting on just for him. Sanji tried to string words together to express his admiration, but it was futile. And unnecessary… For she could read on his awestruck face just how much he liked what he was seeing, and she could tell by the glint in his eyes, and the way he wet his lips just what kind of thoughts were running through his mind that moment. 

“Sanji,” she repeated softly; this time breaking him out of his trance. 

Sanji shook his head gently trying to regain his composure. “You look ravishing, my love,” he breathed against her knuckles as he kissed them softly. 

She smiled at his words. His lips on her knuckles sent a small shiver down her spine, and she couldn’t help but remember what those soft, skillful lips of his felt like on other parts of her body. 

“You can touch me… not just look, my love,” she says softly, as her hands caress his hand, running idly through his silky blonde locks. 

Sanji never meant to seem crass, nor did he ever want to rush her, and so he always tried his best to restrain himself. But when her voice sang such an invitation in his ear, who was he to turn it down? 

Sanji took her hands in his, and gently tugged them to the side. His soft lips pressed against her shoulder, and worked their way up her neck with a trail of hot kisses. He pecked her earlobe, before gently taking it between his teeth and sucking on it. 

She sighed softly at the feeling, loving the way Sanji always found a way to be both gentle with her, yet still a little rough. 

“Do you have any idea what your beauty does to a man, my love?” he purred in her ear. 

She merely gave a low chuckle, as she tilted her head back further, allowing him better access to her throat. 

Sanji’s lips trailed down her neck once more, and settled on her collarbone. His lips kissed her soft skin. His teeth nipped here and there. He sucked on her neck, just the way he knew she liked it. Then his tongue would lick the marks to ease the sting. 

She tugged at his grip on her wrists - wanting to touch him, to feel him under her fingertips, to pull his head up to her lips - and Sanji relented; instead, wrapping his arms around her waist. 

His lips trailed lower, down her chest. They found her breasts - so plump and full - so teasingly displayed in that little bra. He nestled his face between them, feeling their softness against his cheeks. Her fingers daintily brushed through his hair, and caressed his head. 

His hands traced the outlines of her lingerie along her back - every band, every strap, every ribbon, every frill. He drew in a deep breath. He swore her scent could get him high. 

“Do you have any idea what your love does to me, ma cherie?” he asked, his voice now a little deeper. 

Her hand tugged gently on his locks. She wanted him to meet her gaze. 

“Why don’t you show me?” she asked him with a smile. 

It took but a moment for Sanji to dive in and capture her lips. His hand cupped her face gently, while her hands found their way to his strong shoulders and his chest. His tongue slipped quickly into her mouth, and he could feel her smile into the kiss, as he began to lose himself in her scent and the taste of her lipstick. Their tongues danced together, growing ever hungrier for each other’s taste. His hands roamed freely over her body - caressing her waist, her hips, her ass - rubbing over skin and fabrics alike. 

Snap! His fingers hooked into the strap of her bra and snapped it lightly. When he felt her moan into his mouth, he knew what she was in the mood for that night. Snap! He snapped the waistband of her garter. Snap! There went the straps holding her stocking. 

Every pleased little moan earned her a harder snap. And every harder snap, earned him a deeper moan from her pretty throat. 

Hearing her needy sounds for him only fueled his need for her. His lips left hers - now smeared with red - and dove between her breasts, placing desperate kisses all over her exposed skin. 

One of her hands found her way on his back, and grasped at his shoulder. The other, meanwhile, tangled in his soft locks once more. 

His large, skilled hands cupped her breasts and squeezed them, before pushing them closer together as if wishing to suffocate in her softness, her warmth, her essence. His thumbs brushed over her clothed nipples. Though he could not feel them through the padding, the way she sighed and sucked her lip told him where to be. 

Sanji’s hands slipped the straps off her smooth shoulders. His hot lips placed kisses all over her chest. His hands reached up and around her, where his nimble fingers made short work of the hooks on her straps. In a matter of seconds, the bra was tossed to the floor. Released from their constraints, her breasts now captured Sanji’s every attention. His mouth was quick to latch on to her hardened right bud - licking, kissing, and nipping as he went. His other hand, meanwhile, continued to squeeze her left breast, until it was time to switch sides. His eager mouth wasted no time in giving her left breast the same treatment he had just given to her right. 

With one hand squeezing her chest, his other hand now made its way down, trailing over the intricacies of her outfit, and giving her plump ass a good squeeze. Her skin was starting to grow warmer under his ministrations. Her breath picked up, punctuated by the occasional sigh and moan. 

Sanji’s tongue ceaselessly worked her nipples in turns, while his hand, continuing to grope her ass, inched closer and closer to her core. The anticipation made her shiver - a sign that was not lost on her lover. It wasn’t long until Sanji’s long fingers went for a feel. He needed to know just how much he was pleasing her, just how wet she was for him - just how much she wanted him. 

His finger brushed against her gently, softly, teasingly… Then he stopped abruptly. He looked up at her with wide eyes, and his mouth hanging slightly as he tried to string the words together. His finger was coated in slick. The sly grin on her face - her lipstick now dishevelled out of bounds - and that subtle wiggle of her eyebrows gave him the answer to his silent question. 

Sanji could feel a thin stream of blood peak from his nostril as the realisation sunk in. He didn’t think he could have loved this woman even more, and yet, here he was, overcome with love and lust alike for the goddess before him. 

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned the blood off his face. Afterall, it wouldn’t do to smear the lady with his blood. 

“I didn’t think I could love you even more,” he whispered, as he stared down at his wet finger. His confession earned him a mischievous smile from his lover. 

“Oh?” she mused teasingly, as she gently pushed his wet digit into his mouth. Sanji’s lips parted, taking it in, and sucking her essence clean off. He hummed at the taste - every aspect of her was simply delicious to him. She smiled at the sound and let go of his hand. 

“How about you show me just how much you love me then?” she asked, a mischievous grin on her beautiful lips. She slowly turned around for him, his eyes trained on her form as she moved. Bending over slowly, she propped herself on the desk seat. The frilly lace of her blue panties parted to frame her lips perfectly, and reveal her welcoming warmth to him. Her pussy glistened with arousal, twitching slightly in anticipation. 

Sanji wasted no time yanking his tie loose, and dropping to his knees behind her. It was far from the first time eating her out, yet he could never tire of it. Sanji was a pleaser - if he could spend the rest of his life pleasuring this divine being that deigned to claim him as her own, he could die a happy man. 

He grabbed her hips and teasingly traced her folds with his tongue, making her jolt from the sensitivity. Sanji smirked at her reaction. His hands trailed 

“My gods, darling, everything about you is simply divine,” he murmured as his hands roamed over her belt - over silky and lacey fabrics alike, before settling on her ass cheeks. His breath fanned over her core, sending a shiver up her spine. Then Sanji’s fingers slipped under her straps - it was so close, so intimate, like being bound to her in body too, and not just heart. His heart thumped at the thought. 

“To think that I get to taste you…” His words trailed off. His tongue flicked over her sensitive bud, making her pussy clench hard. 

“...is more than I deserve…” He continued. His tongue dragged languidly over her wet warmth. Sanji moaned at the taste, sending pleasant vibrations up her back. 

“...and I thank you for it, love.” 

With that, he eagerly set about his work. His tongue licked circles over her clit, making her tense with pleasure. It then trailed over her folds - once, twice, thrice. With every flick of his tongue, her sounds grew more strained - more needy - wordlessly asking for more. 

Every time he dipped past her entrance, her needy core would clench around nothing, pushing out more of her essence. Every time he left her aching, she’d whine so sweetly. His tongue dipped between her folds - after all, who was Sanji to deny his lady her wish? 

She hummed at the feeling of his slippery muscle exploring her wet core. Her fingers grasped a little tighter at the little cushion on the chair. The way he ate her never disappointed - he seemed insatiable; like a parched man who’d just discovered an oasis in the desert. 

Sanji devoured her feverishly. He lapped at her juices as if trying to get every last drop into his mouth. He hummed and moaned at the taste; at the thought of pleasuring her. His sounds of pleasure vibrated against her core, adding to the stimulation. His hums and moans were met with whines and moans of her own, only spurring him on. 

His lips latched onto her clit, sucking on it just the way she liked it. He moaned softly as his tongue assaulted her little bundle of nerves in all the best, most delicious ways. 

She struggled to keep her voice down. No one needed to hear this but them… And maybe the Marimo, though that was mostly Sanji’s opinion. He’d have loved to rub it in his face… Yet, restrained as they were, their moans were enough to fill the small room. 

Her restraint began to falter when Sanji dipped a long, graceful finger inside her, easing it in, bit by bit. With Sanji now knuckle-deep in her, she nearly choked on her strained moan when he began to curl his finger, tickling that sweet spot. He curled and pumped his finger inside her as he continued to lick her clit relentlessly. 

She dipped down to her elbows, and placed a hand over her mouth, trying to tame her voice. But Sanji was having none of that, as he slipped in a second digit, and began pumping them faster. 

“Come on, love,” he hummed. “Let it out, love” he encouraged. “Let me hear that beautiful voice.” His tongue sucked hard on her swollen clit, as his fingers curled to press hard on her soft spot. And she broke… A loud moan escaped past her hands, prompting her to press her palm harder to her lips. But Sanji would not have it, as he continued his ministrations ín force. 

“Sanji,” she managed to choke out. “They’ll… hear- ah! Ah! Sanji!” She could feel a grin tugging at his lips. 

“Hmm? Let them hear us,” he hummed against her. “You just enjoy yourself, love.” 

Sanji felt honoured to be of such intimate service to a woman as precious and radiant as her; honoured to be allowed to dip his sinner’s tongue between her precious folds. And he would do anything and everything in his power to ensure her pleasure. 

“Come on, love,” he urged on. His free hand pinched one of her garter straps. “Let go.” Snap. He let go. The strap snapped against her skin, adding a pleasant sting to his words. “Cum for me…” His fingers curl and pump inside her, hitting her soft spot faster and harder. “Please...” 

The way he was working her cunt - his lips on her flesh, his tongue flicking over her clit, his fingers ruthlessly hitting all the right spots, the way he hummed against her, sending such pleasant shivers up her spine, and those dirty words leaving his pretty lips, giving her goosebumps - made it near impossible to keep her voice down. Her climax was approaching fast. She was panting as she felt that familiar knot form in her belly. Her moans grew louder, as her walls started clenching harder and faster around his fingers. Sanji could tell she was close. 

“Come on, love. Let go,” he urged again. His voice was low, and deep. There was that certain tone he only ever got when they were alone together. He knew it drove her wild. 

Her voice was growing louder - just the way he wanted it to. He snapped her garter strap again. Her walls spasmed. She could feel that knot tightening, threatening to burst. Sanji had to fight back a smirk. She was so close. His fingers rubbed her clit fast. He hummed deeply as he continued to suck and licked her clit. The vibrations rushed through her core, through every nerve, finally pushing her over the edge. 

“Sanji~” Her voice sang out his name on a broken moan as she came undone around his fingers. Sanji chuckled, pleased with himself, as he continued to finger her through her orgasm. His chuckle sent another wave of pleasure to her sensitive core, making her clench even harder around him. Her sweet sounds filled the room as she moaned and panted in ecstasy. 

Sanji pulled his fingers out of her weeping cunt. She was slowly coming down from her high, and he took the opportunity to indulge himself, and dive in, lapping at her nectar. His tongue dragged past her folds a few times, before dipping in to collect as much of her essence on his tongue as he could. 

She was still sensitive from her release. The feeling on his tongue hungrily roaming her insides once more was intense - almost too much. Her fingers clenched at the seat’s cushion. She whimpered as he continued to eat her out for a few more seconds. It was intense, but she knew he loved this part oh so much. And afterall, she didn’t mind it all that much either. She loved the way he revered and adored her. 

He squeezed her ass cheeks and pushed them closer together. His face was a mess by now - coated in her thick, glistening slick - and he loved it that way. He could have done it for days, but the way she whimpered under his touch told him that a few more licks will have had to suffice for now. 

His tongue slipped out of her once more. His hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief to quickly clean up his face - It wouldn’t do for a gentleman to kiss a lady while smeared so. 

Having cleaned himself up, he tossed the handkerchief on the desk. He watched her as she steadied her breath and regained her composure. She arched her back, stretching like a cat. How graceful she was in all things. Sanji rose to his feet, and she turned around to face him. Their eyes met, and they both smiled at each other - softly, gently, like the love in their hearts.  

“That was so good, darling,” she praised him. Her hand came up to cup his cheek. Her thumb lightly rubbed over his stubble. 

“Only my best for you, cherie,” he responded, while taking his hand in his once more and placing a chaste kiss to her knuckles. 

Leaning in, she beckoned Sanji to kiss her. Their lips met in a slow, deep kiss. Her hands caressed his firm chest and arms slowly, sensually. His hands cupped her face, before one of them sank to rest on her lower back. His hand was large, warm, and soothing. It made her feel safe… wanted… like she truly belonged there, in his arms. 

She pressed her lips harder against his. Sanji happily obliged her, and deepened the kiss. Her hands made short work of loosening his dress shirt’s buttons. Her hands roamed over his bare chest, feeling it rise and fall. His breathing was slowly picking up, as was hers. She paused for a few moments over his left breast. She could feel his heart beat firmly in his chest. Though it beat fast, she knew that it beat fast for her, with love, and with desire. Every time she felt his heart beneath her fingertips, or laid her head on his chest, she was reminded of just how deeply one can love another. 

She smiled into the kiss. Her hands resumed their travels, continuing on south - down from his firm chest and to his sculpted abs. His muscles tensed under her touch. Her fingers traced them slowly, feeling the way they dipped and bulged. 

Sanji licked her bottom lip, gently requesting entrance - a request she most happily approved. Her soft lips parted for him, and his tongue entered her mouth slowly. The kiss was slow, yet passionate. Sanji took his time to savour her tongue on his, swallowing the soft moans she gave him. His hands reached down to squeeze her plump ass, and he groaned softly into the kiss. 

One of her hands slipped further down. It trailed lightly over his belt, feigning to hook its fingers in it, before continuing on lower, and settling on his bulge. His hard shaft twitched in his pants under her light touch. She smirked into the kiss. Her hand applied more pressure, and began rubbing up and down his generous length. The roles now reversed, Sanji groaned into her mouth - his cock straining against the constraints of his suit pants. 

Her fingers hooked themselves into his belt, and made short work of his buckle. Then the button… and finally the zipper. Sanji made a somewhat high pitched noise at the newfound freedom. He loved it so much when she undressed him - it just made him feel so wanted. And to be wanted by a woman like her was certainly quite the accomplishment. 

His hands travelled up to cup her face. He meant to do so gently, as a silent ‘I love you’, but the way she shuffled his pants off his hips and grabbed a firm hold of his clothed hard cock, made it hard to contain himself. Sanji took control of the kiss. His lips pressed harder against hers. His mouth became insatiable. He needed her. He needed her in every way conceivable. To love, to cherish, to hold… and to fuck absolutely senseless. 

She melted into the kiss. Melted in his warm, large hands as they trailed over her body, pawing at her every curve. 

It didn’t take her long to yank the boxers off his hips. His pretty cock sprang to attention - long, thick and glistening with precum. Her thumb rubbed over his tip, spreading the precum around, earning her a grateful moan from her man. 

Their mouths parted slowly. They both looked so messy smeared with her lipstick, and a string of drool dangling between their lips. They gazed into each other's eyes. There was love and passion in them - soft as the soothing summer rain, yet wild like the storm. She pecked him on the lips once more before shooting him a look. There was a cheeky grin on her lips, and her eyes spelled mischief. 

“Sit down, love,” she urged, as her hands nudged him towards the bed behind him. 

Sanji obliged, stumbling back, his pants still around his legs. A few shuffles later, he plopped on their soft bed. His hands lingered on her form, running up and down her sides, and rubbing over the soft fabrics that hugged her curves so sinfully. His eyes, turned upward, behold her with an awe that borders on reverence. 

“You are truly majestic, my love. How a man like me could be so blessed, nobody knows,” he murmurs softly. 

She smiled and shook her head at him. Placing her hands on his strong shoulders, she leant in to plant a soft, warm kiss to his swollen lips. 

“I’m the one that’s lucky to have you, darling. And tonight I want to show you just how much I appreciate you,” she whispered against his lips. 

With one more gentle kiss to his lips, she sank to her knees before him. Her hands pulled his boxers and his pants all the way off, and he shuffled them off his feet, tossing them someplace in the room. 

His length stood firm at attention. He could feel her breath slowly fanning over it as she looked up at him. Her warm hand wrapped around his girth, her hand too small to wrap all the way around it. She smiled up at him as she slowly began pumping his cock. 

“Wait,” he said. His hand reached back and grabbed a cushion. Bending forward, he gestured for her to place it under her knees. “Here,” he said, as she allowed him to slip the puffy padding under her, “it wouldn’t do to have you kneeling on the hard floor.” 

Sanji’d always been so soft and caring towards her. 

“Thank you, love,” she murmured, giving him a warm smile. 

Sanji returned the smile, and placed a hand on her head, caressing her hair. 

Her eyes then turned to her work. His tip was still squeezing out tiny droplets of desire. She rubbed the tip, spreading it around. Her head dipped down and began pressing chaste kisses along his length, from the thick bottom, to his pretty, pink tip. 

Sanji sighed, feeling her lips teasingly kissing his shaft. His cock twitched hard when her tongue flattened against the base and traced a long line up to his tip. She teased the tip of his dick, tasting the salty cock droplets. Her lips sucked on the tip, as if trying to get more of it. Then, she set about licking along his length a few more times. It was torture for Sanji, but he was not one to complain. While eager to feel her beautiful lips wrapped around his cock, his length sliding down her pretty little throat, a part of him relished the teasing and anticipation. His fingers twitched in her hair, trying to grab it just yet, trying to keep himself composed. 

She judged how long to tease him based on his reactions - his wistful sighs, the tensing muscles in his strong legs, and the way his cock twitched so deliciously in her hand, begging for more. At last, she relented. Her eyes looked up at him as she tentatively wrapped her lips around his tip and sucked gently. Sanji nearly hissed at the feeling. She sucked a little harder, and could feel his fingers twitch in her hair again. 

Gathering some spit in her mouth, she welcomed him in her mouth, slowly inching down along his smooth length. She could hear him sigh above her. His hands now gathered her hair at the top of her head. His fingers tangled in her silky soft locks, keeping them out of her face. 

She’d made it about halfway down when she began slowly bobbing her head. One hand wrapped around his shaft, pumping him in sync with her mouth. The other hand rose to cup his balls and gently fondle them. 

He swallowed dryly and tried to hold back a whimper. This only urged her on to suck on him harder. 

Sanji’s breath was becoming shallower. His cheeks were dusted with such a pretty pink, as he looked down at her head bobbing up and down his length. Her hand would sometimes twist around his cock. Every now and then she would give him a particularly harsh suck, and he would groan. Down below, she took his sighs and groans as compliments and directions. 

His girth was generous and she would sometimes need a small break. In those moments, she would sometimes settle on teasing the soft, pink tip - sucking it, or swirling her tongue over it. Other times, she would pump his full length with both hands. Either way, she would leave him waiting for too long. 

She was quick to show him just how much she appreciated him. Removing a hand from his cock and placing it back on his sack, she dove down along his length, swallowing him whole. 

Her lover gasped at the sudden wave of warmth and pleasure, somewhat surprised to suddenly feel himself sliding down her throat. She held him there for a little while, enjoying the way he moaned helplessly above her. Sanji had always been vocal in bed, and she loved it. Trying to elicit those sounds out of him was something of a competition she had with herself. 

She began moving her head up and down again, sucking as hard as she could along the way, before releasing him from her mouth again with a lewd pop. She was such a mess as she looked up at him, all flushed and panting. A string of drool hung ‘tween her lips and his cock, and Sanji was quite convinced there were few sights more obscene than this. His cock was covered in her spit. Her once painted lips had left a red ring around the thick base of his cock, a reminder of how deep she’d gone. Sanji’s heart skipped a beat when he looked at her like that. Even after all this time, he sometimes still could not believe his luck. He felt beyond special to have such an effervescent beauty on her knees for him, sucking him off. 

She looked up at him with flushed cheeks and teary eyes. There was still that smile on her face, as if silently asking ‘Is this good enough for you?’ It was about to drive him mad. 

“You are too good for me, ma cherie,” he muttered, and she grinned, diving back down. She insisted on giving him her best shot. Even if it often made her choke and gag, it didn’t matter. Hell, judging by his sounds, the vibrations must have been quite nice for him. Or maybe it was the sound of her choosing his fat cock over the oxygen she needed to breathe? 

Drool coated her fist, and dripped down towards his balls. His breaths were shallow and ragged. His legs trembled, and she could feel his balls tightening. He was close to cumming. She could feel it. And she wanted to taste it.  

Though struggling, she tried to keep up the pace - bobbing, and sucking, pumping as needed. It was no easy task, but it was worth it to see the look on his face when she swallowed his milk. 

Sanji moaned above her. His one hand grabbed a hold of her hair, while his other hand clutched the sheets. She bobbed her head faster, trying to take him as deeply as she could without gagging too much. Her mouth threatened to suck the very life right out of him in the most deliciously zealous way. When she moaned around his cock, it was game over. He throbbed in her hand, and twitched in her mouth. His cum spurted into her mouth as she continued to pump him through his orgasm. A strangled gasp left his lips as he tried to steady his breath, as his hand slowly caressed her head. 

Once he stopped twitching, she released his spent cock from her mouth and looked up to him with a smile. His eyes gazed down at her with the most tender expression; love, admiration, and gratitude written all over his handsome features. 

She opened her mouth. His breath stopped and his body tensed with a new wave of arousal as he looked at the salty white liquid that filled her pretty mouth. She then swallowed heavily, not taking his eyes off him for a second. His heart skipped a beat as he watched her pretty little throat twitch as she swallowed his load. Her fingers came up to gingerly dab the corners of her mouth - her thumb brushing lightly against one corner of her lips, then her ring finger against the other. She was breathtaking. 

She slowly rose to her feet and placed her hands on his shoulders. His gaze followed her, mesmerised. 

“Lay back, love,” she instructed, as her hands gently pushed down on his strong shoulders. Sanji did as he was told. Who was he to disobey his lady, especially when she was being so very persuasive? 

With him flat against the mattress, she wasted no time climbing on top of him, her thick thighs straddling him. Her hands roamed every inch of his chiselled, exposed torso, as she leant down and captured his lips in a fervent kiss. 

Sanji grabbed her shoulders, pushing her upright and following suit. His hands desperately tugged at his shirt, trying to shake it off his shoulders. Catching on, she rushed to help. The more skin exposed, the better. They quickly managed to dispose of his shirt, tossing it somewhere across the room, and resuming position. Her hands pushed him back down on the bed, while his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her closer. 

The kiss was growing more and more heated. Lips dancing against each other’s, tongues exploring each other’s mouths, hands roaming wherever they could reach. Sanji ground up against her; his hard length pressing and rubbing against her slick, wet folds.

 She broke the kiss, leaving his still hungry lips hanging, and quickly  latched on to his neck, kissing, sucking, and licking down, along his neck, collar bones, and chest. 

His hands roamed her sides, tracing the smooth curves over her body. He enjoyed the contrast between her bare skin and the intricate designs of the lingerie still enclosing her hips, her waist, her legs. 

Jolting up, and arching her back, she ground her heat over his cock. She moaned at the friction, and panted lightly as she smiled down at him.

“Ready for the main course?” she asked.There was a frenzied look on her face as she looked down at him - anticipation, no doubt. She could feel him twitch against her. 

“Oh, I could not be more ready,” he rasped, as he reached up to cup the back of her head and pull her down in an ardent kiss. His free hand reached down, and positioned his cock at her entrance. She was practically dripping for him. He prodded her entrance, always making sure she wasn’t forcing it. He moaned into the kiss. Her walls clamped hard around him, before letting up again. 

“You doing alright, love?” he asked. No matter how many times they did this, his concern for her well-being and satisfaction would never cease, nor diminish. 

“Mmm~,” she hummed, as she rose up again and dragged a hand through her dishevelled hair. “I am more than alright,” she assured him, right before her hips pressed down on him; her needy cunt swallowing his length whole, the sudden feeling making them both gasp loudly. 

“Gods,” he gasped, as his hands grabbed her ass. “Ah~” His head fell back against the mattress. “You’re so. fucking . tight!” he hissed between his teeth, as his fingers dug deeper into her flesh. She could only moan in response, as her walls clenched around him, still adjusting to his sizeable girth. Sanji, too, could use the moment to steady himself - wouldn’t want to disappoint the lady, now, would he? 

They laid there for a moment or two, in each other’s embrace, as they caught their breath and adjusted to one another. Their eyes then met - there was that same frenzied, hungry look in them. A small smile twisted on her lips in a blend of sweet love and unadulterated lust. A nod of her head was all he needed - his hips pulled back slowly, then pushed back up into her heat. Her hips met his tempo, bouncing herself up and down his length as her tongue slipped into his mouth. Moans and sighs were muffled by their kiss. The slapping sounds of skin on skin echoes off the walls of their bedroom. One’s drool in the other’s mouth. One’s sweat on the other’s body. One’s juices blending with their lover’s. 

The heat was rising. The tempo picked up. Fingers dug deeper in each other’s flesh - her nails clawed at his chest; his fingers dug into her hips as he helped bounce her up and down his cock. Her juices coated him completely. Sanji admired the way sweat started dripping down her neck… pooling between her plump and glistening breasts as they bounced around for him. But there was only so far she could go. She could not keep up with the pace any longer - her legs were tired, her body felt heavy. Sanji noticed, and stilled her hips, pulling them down on him. He smiled at her. 

“You’ve done far more than enough, my love,” he said. His hand reached up and gently grasped her chin between his fingers. He guided her down to his lips, meeting her halfway in a soft kiss. “It’s time I took good care of my lady,” he said softly, placing one more kiss to her lips, before flipping her on her back. He never once broke their union - it would have been sacrilegious. 

Sanji wasted no time resuming their dance. His pace was steady, moderate, as he leaned down to kiss her. 

“Sanji,” she sighed. “Please~ I need more…”

She didn’t need to ask him twice. 

Sanji carefully grabbed her thighs, and lifted them slowly. His warm lips pressed soft kisses to the sides of her knees as he eyed her, checking for any signs of discomfort. But the deeper angle only made her sigh in pleasure and drop her head back on the pillow. This was good. 

Sanji smiled to himself as he watched her face twist in pleasure. He could do this all night, just to see her like that. And he loved to hear the way his name would fall from her swollen lips in broken moans or breathy whispers; the way she chanted his name and his praises; the way she begged for more, as if in prayer. 

Indeed, it had come thus far. He hadn’t even noticed how his pace had picked up, but she clearly had - there was no doubt that she’d forgotten all about being quiet… or perhaps no longer cared? Her cries filled the room as his cock bullied her G-spot.

“Sa- Sa- Ah! Sanji! Sanji! Oh! Harder! F-Fuck- Fuck me- Harder!” 

Sanji leaned a little heavier on her legs, propping them closer to her chest, fucking her still deeper. He leaned down, their foreheads nearly touching, their breaths mixing as they panted and moaned and groaned in unison. Her arms reached up to wrap around his neck. A sheen of sweat was starting to form on his brow as he pounded her harder. The heat was steadily rising. Her legs wrapped around his waist, trapping him against her body. Her cunt was so tight, so welcoming, so… greedy for him. 

“My gods, I love you,” he groaned in her ear, each word punctuated by a hard thrust. 

She was past the point of stringing words together - every sound coming from her pretty throat a wanton cry begging for more as her fingers clawed at his back. 

Sanji was mesmerised by her - the pretty sounds she made, the way her breasts bounced so sensually before him with every impact, the way she was so needy for him and only him, the way he’d reduced her to this moaning, screaming mess. 

The room was filled with their pleasure - their moans and cries, the sounds of her soppy cunt, and his balls slapping against her ass, the smell of sweat and sex, the growing heat… It wasn’t all that long until her walls started clenching around him. Sanji sucked a breath in. She was threatening to pull him over the edge, but he had to hold back - hold until he knew she’d come.But it was hard… So damn hard… 

“I - I’m so close!” she cried out. Sanji groaned in response. He was giving it his all and then some. His hands grasped her shoulders for leverage, aiming to go as deep as he could. 

With a broken moan she came undone beneath him, her slick coating his cock and forming a white ring around the thick base. She looked so pretty like that - her lips parted in a silent scream, her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. Sanji kept fucking her through her orgasm. His pace was growing frenzied as he searched for his own. He was so close… So close! He needed to be deep - as deep as he could - when he pumped her full of his milky white seed. 

And there he was, coming just shortly after her. Her body’d gone limp in bliss underneath him; the biggest smile on her face - all blissed out. Her legs trembled around his waist as his thrusts stuttered. He pushed into her a few more times, pumping his cum into her greedy cunt, then slowed down. 

He placed his forehead on hers and looked into her eyes. This had to be the very height of love; the closest that two souls could get to becoming one - their sweat, their cum, their breaths all mixing, as they gazed into each other’s eyes. They say the eyes are windows to the soul… And Sanji could remember ever having seen such a bright and beautiful soul before in his life. 

Silence fell over them as they slowly came down from their highs. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks. 

“I love you,” he whispered, breaking the silence, and his lips found hers in a long, sweet kiss - gentle, tender and full of love. 

When their lips parted, she looked up at him with a sweet smile. 

“Are you ready, love?” she asked softly. She knew she had to ask it - if it had been for Sanji, he probably wouldn’t have pulled out ever again. And Sanji knew it too… 

 Sanji nodded. “You know I’ll never be ready. So it’s up to you, love,” he said with a small smile, and a hint of amusement on his face. 

She giggled and nodded at him. Sanji shifted his weight around, and he slowly pulled out of her. Watching his seed seep out of her twitching cunt was a sight to behold; a sight he’d never tire of. A part of him was considering trying to go for another round, but the look on her face told him she was spent for the night. ‘And what a perfectly wonderful night it’s been,’ he thought to himself. 

Standing up, Sanji headed to the faucet in their little en-suite bathroom. When they decided to move in together, Sanji asked Franky if he could arrange some privacy for them, which Franky was happy to puzzle out. 

He grabbed a soft wash-cloth and turned on the tap, letting it run warm for a moment. He washed himself in the low basin with warm water and soap, then returned to her with the warm, damp cloth. 

She was still laying on the bed; her legs still somewhat open. The flush on her skin was starting to wear off. 

Sanji sat down on the bed and began cleaning her up. He did this every time. Of course she could do it herself, but he always insisted that it was the least he could do for her and the truth was that she enjoyed the extended intimacy. 

She’d watch him clean her up - always so careful of hurting her - and talk to him in hushed tones about this or the other, blending in sweet nothings wherever she could. He was just so good to her. 

When he was done, he went and placed the cloth on the edge of the sink, and made haste to return to her. 

“Shall I get you your nightgown, love?” he asked, noticing the goosebumps on her skin. 

“I don’t think I’ll need it with you by my side,” she answered, getting under the blankets and holding them open for him to join. 

Sanji smiled at her. Smiled to himself. He’d never imagined such a love was possible - certainly not for him. And yet, here they were - more in love than the poets could verse. 

He made his way to the bed and crawled in beside her. He turned the lights out from the switch by the bedside. 

She turned around and pulled her hair back. Sanji slipped an arm under her head, while his other arm went to pull her closer. He nuzzled her hair, inhaling her scent - perfume, and sweat… and him. 

Her hips shuffled around, pushing back against his. “You know,” she started, “the early hours are particularly cold… I might need some extra help to stay warm in the morning,” he mused, and she could feel Sanji’s soldier rise up to attention again. 

Tag list: @sampaisleyriot Not sure which of the guys you were waiting for (if any in particular), but I hope you like it :)

[lvlybin]

ain't you ever seen a princess be a bad bitch?

summary   ༝༚༝༚ … ZB1 & princess treatment

preferences ! ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა    ۫  ੭̲    제비스 x 𝓯!reader ⊹ cw none ( library )

✉️ sorry for kind of disappearing! I’m back to writing and I’m finishing up some works to post soon. I was cleaning out my drafts and found this <3 hope y’all enjoy

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓙iwoong ﹙𝓴.﹚ㅤ

tries his best to be domestic with you

Being in love with Jiwoong is like something out of a fairytale. He is truly such a genuine and innocent person that your well-being and happiness is always his priority. And with those things in mind, it’s almost second nature for him to be domestic with you, at least, to the best of his abilities. Princess treatment to him is pampering you to the fullest and making you feel like you might as well be married to him already. Nights where he’s cooking while you’re sitting at the counter watching as he does his best to make you both a meal are a must. He’d have romantic jazz playing in the background and of course, he’s going to pour you a drink without you even having to ask. Jiwoong will do all the chores you don’t want to do: laundry, the dishes, etc. Even if you don’t live together yet, he’s constantly trying to show you why it would be such a great idea for you both to share a space. As if you don’t already know how great it would be, because he loves you more than anything else and wants to be around you all of the time.

only takes you on romantic dates

This version of princess treatment you weren’t even aware of until you were both lounging on the couch and Jiwoong says something along the lines of: “We haven’t gone on a date in a while”. And you look at him confused because you had just gone to Barnes & Noble together for practically a whole afternoon, only for him to say: “That’s not a real date”. Jiwoong only considers it a date if you’re being spoiled by going to a fancy restaurant or doing something romantic like having a picnic on the beach. While it’s nice to have little hang-outs now and then with him–going out to lunch together or running errands together, he genuinely will only have the best for you, and that includes thought-out and thoroughly planned romantic outings.

helps you get dressed

If you’re in a relationship with Jiwoong, he does not want you lifting a finger. While he’s sure you love having your independence, he can’t help but want to consistently do things for you. Including helping you get dressed. If you ask for his opinion on an outfit, he will give you it without sugarcoating. If you want him to pick out an outfit for you, he will be on his feet and picking out different things for you to try on and piece together with his help. But his favorite is without a doubt zipping up your dresses. Something about the small gesture is so intimate to him. The way he brushes your hair to the side and lets one hand rest on your waist while the other pulls the zipper up with him finally leaving a soft kiss on the nape of your neck… It makes him feel like he’s doing a good job caring for you. And the fact that you want him to do something that’s a part of your everyday routine, even if it’s getting dressed, genuinely makes him feel so included and involved with your life.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓗ao ﹙𝔃.﹚ㅤ

will try / do anything or activity you want to do

Getting princess treatment from the princess himself is the highest privilege you could receive as his girlfriend. And necessarily, the things he does as ‘Princess Treatment’ are things he just thinks any good partner would do. So when you come running to him with a craft on TikTok you want to try or a new place you want to visit, he’s never going to say no. I think that despite being an introvert he really does enjoy trying new things and his favorite thing to do would be to try new things with you. Even if he honestly doesn’t really want to / think it doesn’t sound fun in the beginning. There have been times when you’ve mentioned something you’ve done with Hao to the other members and they’ve been in shock that he was willing to do it with you despite him saying no to doing it with them the previous day. He may pretend to complain a little, but he will ultimately do anything to see you happy.

compliments all day every day

Hao has concluded that if you’re dating him, you must love attention as much as he does. You at least have to know that you’re just as pretty, if not more, as him. He wants to see you blossom, to see your confidence grow when you’re with him, so he gives you as much of his attention as possible–and that includes compliments upon compliments. They start small so he can get you used to receiving such a large amount in a day, but once you’ve gotten past the stage when you blush shyly and muster a small “Thank you”, he’s praising you in practically every sentence he speaks. Whether he's saying that you did something well, that he likes your hair that day, or randomly mentioning how funny or kind you are–he’s making sure you know how special you are. In fact, he’s started challenging himself to see how many synonyms of Beautiful he can use on you every day.

loves doing your makeup and skincare, lets you practice your makeup skills on him too

It’s no secret that Hao loves taking care of himself, making sure that he looks his best every day. So when you began dating him, you honestly weren’t super surprised that he extended that trait to you as well. You feel like his little doll at times, with the way that he’ll sit you on the bathroom counter in the mornings after you’ve brushed your teeth and gently push your hair back to do your skincare routine. He just wants the best for you–is what he claims as he buys hundreds of dollars worth of completely new products for you to use, saying that he knows what’s best for your skin and what will enhance your appearance the most. He’s right, of course. And if you ever tell him that you miss doing your makeup (jokingly, because who wouldn’t want him to do their makeup every day?), he’ll sit in front of you and have you do his makeup. Kind of a big deal! But even if it looks bad, he won’t tell you, because you’re his princess and he knows that you did your best :P

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓗anbin ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

treats you like his wife

Everyone knows that Hanbin is the greenest flag of a man to walk this earth and when you started dating him, it was like you both completely skipped the dating stage and went right to being a married couple. He is so committed to you, it’s actually insane (once again, normal basis of a relationship, but it’s Hanbin so). I’m talking doesn’t even look at any other woman, spends the majority of his time with you, is talking about you to his parents–all of it. You are his future and he makes that clear to you. Sometimes you feel like you’ve already started along the path of becoming that rich wife who goes to pilates classes and has two well-behaved children and doesn’t have to lift a finger because with Hanbin and the way he takes care of you, marriage does seem like the only option. Your relationship is the most important thing to him, and he doesn’t hesitate to put it above everything and make sacrifices for it. Hanbin also always makes sure to check things with you first. Your opinions on his decisions matter because he already sees you as the person he wants to marry.

HUGE on flowers

When Hanbin asked you out, he brought you flowers. When you went on your first date, he brought you flowers. The day after your first date, he sent you flowers. You could honestly open a flower shop with how many bouquets he gives you on a weekly basis, not that you’re complaining. He’s the type to get you big bouquets for every date you guys go on and it’s a different flower every time. He knows your favorite flower of course, so even if the bouquet is a completely different flower than that, he’ll at least include one of your favorite flowers just because he wants to make sure that you know that he hasn’t forgotten. Hanbin also makes sure you know what each flower supposedly means, just because he thinks it’s cute. At some point, you have to ask him to tone it back a little, because he’s been getting you flowers every time he walks past a flower place and you’re worried about how much he’s spending on you. He’ll tell you not to worry because this little action he does is a way for him to express how much he loves you.

makes sure you’re safe 24/7

Your safety is something that’s always in the back of his mind. He knows you can protect and take care of yourself, but he thinks that you shouldn’t have to worry about that–that you should only be worried about what will make you happy. And you can leave everything else to him. I’m an enforcer of the ‘Hanbin buckles your seatbelt for you’ agenda because he loves taking care of people and I think that small things like that just make sense for him. It gives him peace of mind to know that you’ll be safe. The sidewalk rule is also another thing that he makes sure he does. He wants to eliminate any possibility of you being in danger and that includes watching your purse while you guys are at dinner to make sure nothing gets stolen, making sure your windows are locked before he leaves your apartment, always holding your drink, etc. Anything that may slip someone else’s mind will never get past Hanbin.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓜atthew ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

he’s the best active listener

It’s no secret that Matthew loves talking, so he knows how discouraging it can be when someone isn’t actually listening to you. And when you get comfortable around him, you don’t stop talking either. He wants you to feel comfortable, he doesn’t want that aspect to leave your relationship, so he never makes you feel bad or annoying for yapping. Matthew is genuinely happy that you feel like sharing things with him, even if it is your obscure little thoughts and he wants you to know that. He’s amazing at making you feel heard. He’s always asking small questions or making comments to show you that he was listening to everything you were saying. Even his body language–Matthew is nodding along and maintaining eye contact and actively reacting to your words. The point is, he wants to make it clear to you that your words do matter, and that you should feel comfortable talking his ear off.

has you both send little daily updates to each other

Both the updates he sends you and the ones he asks you to send him are for you. He wants you to know what he’s doing, not that you don’t trust him, but Matthew wants you to see that he’s constantly thinking about you. That you almost always have all of his attention. Plus, he likes receiving little comments from you about what he’s doing. He thinks it’s adorable. And then for you, he is truly interested in everything you do and wants to be involved. Matthew saves all of the pictures you send him (the ones you’re in) and has a little folder in his photos that’s reserved for your daily updates. Lowkey you both have separation anxiety, but he’ll never admit it. Matthew will just say that he’s giving you the attention that you deserve.

always is touching you when y’all are walking

Matthew likes physical affection and will take any scraps of touching you he can get. Including when you guys are just simply walking together. Holding your hand is nice, he likes the feeling of how small your hand is compared to his and it gets the point across to other people that you’re taken, but I think that there are other forms that he likes more. Honestly, I can see him wanting you to link your arm with his, making you feel like a princess while he carries your bags or something. He’s able to hold you closer to him and have a tighter grip on you that way as well. And he likes the feeling of you feeling up his arm even if you think that he doesn’t notice it :P He’ll guide you around with his hand on your lower back too. Steering you away from people who might get in your way and softly rubbing on the area to make sure you know that he’s there. Piggyback rides and literally just carrying you are things that he likes doing as well. In his opinion, you should be carried everywhere, so he’s happy to do so.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓣aerae ﹙𝓴.﹚ㅤ

prioritizes you no matter what

Kind of already touched on this with Hanbin, but I feel like it fits Taerae so well. He always wants you to talk to him and feel comfortable with him because I feel like when he does fall in love and get to the point where he trusts them with everything, a lot of his life will revolve around you. Even if you don’t notice it, he’ll do all of these little things with you / for you / to you that he does for no one else, which shows how you’re the only thing on his mind. Whether that’d be clinging to you at all times, letting you talk even if he’s in the middle of explaining something, keeping the things you like and dislike in the front of his mind… Basically, his thoughts revolve around making sure you’re happy and comfortable whenever you’re with him. You always make sure that he’s both of those things, so it only makes sense that he makes you his top priority.

never lets you feel embarrassed

As mentioned before, I think that comfort is a huge part of any relationship Taerae is in. He has a hard time trusting people, so establishing that trust requires comfort and when he feels comfortable, the pampering for his partner is quick to follow. That being said, if there’s ever an instance where something happens to you in public, like you spilled something on Taerae that’ll stain or you let out an embarrassing noise, he WILL say that it was him and or cover for you. “Oh yeah, I spilled this on myself, I should be more careful”, “That was me! Sometimes my voice can get really high”, etc. He would do anything for you, and that includes maybe feeling a bit of embarrassment for you. As long as you’re okay, then he’s okay with doing anything. Sometimes he lovingly teases you, but all of his efforts are lighthearted, and if you ever appear embarrassed by his words, he’ll say that he was joking and that all of the words he’d said were made up. And god forbid someone else tries to embarrass you. Taerae has no problem with speaking up and calling people out, especially when it comes to you. He’s your number one defender and anyone that says anything bad about you or to you will end up being the humiliated one.

you’re his passenger princess

We’ve got our passenger princess victim. Willing victim, at that. Maybe I’m just obsessed with the fact that Taerae can drive, but him driving in Camp ZeroBaseOne lives rent-free in my head T-T Anyways… when you’re in his car, you’re not lifting a finger. Don’t bother with trying to open the car door, Taerae will do that for you happily, making sure you’re comfortable and your seat is the way you like it before he gets in the driver’s seat. Even before you get in his car, he’ll have already gone to get you a drink, and if it’s not the drink you wanted (which is rare because he has your drink order memorized), he’ll gladly go get you the drink you wanted no matter how much you protest. The aux is yours, he likes listening to your music more anyway, and he wants you to leave your things all over his car. Whenever anyone else gets in the passenger seat, they aren’t allowed to move your things around (hair clips, spare makeup, little knick knacks you’ve accidentally left, etc.) or Taerae will probably make them sit in the back. He wants to let everyone know he’s taken. In fact, you could probably carve your name into the passenger seat. Bro does not care!

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓡icky ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

always treats you gently

Ricky is already a soft-spoken person around most people, but he usually gets louder when he’s with people he’s comfortable with / with his friends. And of course he has those moments with you, but usually, he’s treating you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. You bring out the side of him that feels the need to protect and take care of no matter your age or any other difference. He’s so so patient with you. Whenever you don’t understand something, no matter the scenario, he’ll take his time to explain it to you so you don’t feel left out, confused, or anything else. But he ALWAYS makes sure that you don’t feel like you’re bothering him by asking questions. He’s happy to help you and take care of you. And his friends have never seen him act the way he does with you around anyone else. Even though they tease him for it, they think it’s genuinely sweet how he leans closer to you and speaks in a soft voice so you’re the only one who can understand him, and how he sticks by your side with a hand gently placed on your lower back to guide you.

is TOTALLY okay with being your accessory… supports it 110%

Ricky knows that if he’s with you out and about in public, he has to look his best. Not for his own sake (kind of his own sake, he wants you to always find him attractive), but for your sake. He wants to look like he’s good enough to be your partner and he wants you to be proud that you’re dating him. Obviously, you are, and you never hesitate to tell him that, and he believes you, but he can’t help it sometimes. You know those TikToks where it’s the girl in the front of the video and her boyfriend’s standing behind her and everyone’s like “omg he’s literally your accessory”? Yeah, that’s Ricky. And the funny thing is, he’s so proud of it. He’s honored to be your “accessory,” even though you would never call him that. He insists that he’s there to make you look better, that you both look so good together that it’d be impossible for others to not look at you both and get just the tiniest bit jealous of your relationship.

surprise dates surprise dates surprise dates

Random acts of affection are important for him. They’re one of his favorite ways of showing you how much he loves you because I think Ricky is someone who believes that actions hold more meaning than words. It’s become routine for him to text you in the morning, telling you when he’s picking you up and how nice you should dress. He’s actually really good at planning things out. Ricky keeps track of when you’re free or knows what kind of date he should take you on / not take you on (how much time he has, if you have to be back for something, etc.) At first, you hated how he would surprise you with them, but eventually, you got used to it. And now, you look forward to whatever date he’s planned without the smallest amount of worry and the largest amount of trust. This ties in with Ricky’s love for being the one taking care of you, and he knows you, so he knows what activities you would enjoy and what you wouldn’t. You don’t have to lift a finger if Ricky can help it.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓖yuvin ﹙𝓴.﹚ㅤ

takes quiet moments together

You get to see every side of Gyuvin and he gets to see every side of you. So in the moments where you don’t want to talk, needing to just sit in silence, he makes sure that you both enjoy those moments as well. And enjoying each other’s presence is so important to him. He knows it brings you a sense of peace, so he’s happy to hold you as you lay your head on his chest–scrolling on your phone or reading a book, or simply just laying there. Gyuvin can tell when you need to recharge your social battery, and therefore he’s gotten good at getting you out of situations so you can be by yourself. Or, more like be by yourself with him. He never forces you to talk to him or makes silence feel awkward. And if you don’t want to talk, but don’t want to sit in silence, he’ll just talk about random things for you to listen to. These quiet moments are important to you, but they’re also important to him, and he never hesitates to study your behavior and determine if that’s what you need right in that moment.

shopping sprees

I firmly believe that Gyuvin is the one who will take you on shopping sprees literally for fun (for him). He LOVES spoiling and spending money on you even if he doesn’t act like it. Whenever you mention you’re going shopping, he’s up on his feet in an instant and saying that he wants to come to keep you company. But then, when you actually start the shopping, he’s the one picking out clothes and jewelry and stuff for you. “Oh this would look so good on you” / “You don’t have to get it, I just want to see you try it on” / “We can keep some of these clothes with me if you don’t have the closet space”. It’s like the concept of money doesn’t exist to him when it comes to you, so be careful so much as even glancing at something because Gyuvin will be picking it up and carrying it around until it’s time to check out for you even if you insist you don’t want it. Sometimes he doesn’t even mean to get you so many things, he just thinks you look good in everything and anything and the rest of the world should be as blessed as him to see you in the clothing you try on. Also, he definitely gets you like 30 presents on your birthday.

is always posting you on his social media

Gyuvin has multiple albums in his photo app just for you: date nights, holidays, mornings, etc. He likes to go back and look at them and the pictures of you just make him so happy that he can’t help but want to share them with as many people as possible. Imagine how surprised you are when random Instagram stories or posts of you come up. You always think it’s the sweetest thing that Gyuvin wants to share your relationship with his friends through social media and that he wants to document some things in that way, but more often than not, they’re pictures you weren’t even aware he took. None of them are ever bad though? It’s a way to show you how he sees you through his eyes. The pictures are always so beautiful, and he tells you that he doesn’t even have to try to get such pretty photos–you’re just that naturally beautiful.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓖unwook ﹙𝓹.﹚ㅤ

brags about you to everyoneeee

You being his girlfriend is one of Gunwook’s best achievements. And EVERYONE knows it too. The topic of you pops up at least once in every conversation he has, whether you’re there in person or not. He gets so proud of everything you do, no matter how big or small. In fact, you could literally wake up in the morning and he would deem that something to share with people. You can do no wrong in his eyes, and sometimes, he gets so excited over the fact that you’re his that he has to share it with people. His friends might get a little annoyed because of how often he talks about you, but he can’t help it :( He could talk about you and how amazing you are for hours and not get bored. Gunwook hasn’t told you about his love for bragging about you, but the way he looks at you when he prompts you to tell other people about the things you’ve achieved or done recently, you still get a good sense of how proud he is to be yours.

carries things around for you

This is in the sense of always having things like hair ties for you, extras of the perfume you wear in his bag, if you have some kind of medicine he has that in his bag too… It was a habit that slowly built as your guys’ relationship progressed. Gunwook would always hold things for you whenever you would go out on dates (your lipgloss) and eventually, his pockets weren’t enough for the things he would request to take from you to free up your hands to hold. So, he started carrying a bag around. It was helpful for him, sure, but he did it for you. Now, said bag is full of items that you might need on a day-to-day basis. Miniatures of your makeup, snacks that you like, everything mentioned before, and others! Gunwook loves carrying things around for you–it’s less for you to worry about and he enjoys taking care of you, even in the smallest ways.

lowkey is always matching his outfits with yours

Okay, I don’t know if this qualifies as princess treatment but… I can just see Gunwook asking you for an OOTD and then showing up in a similar outfit to yours, saying “woahhh that’s weird :3”. He loves matching with you in the smallest ways: matching jewelry, the same color scheme, the same style of pants, the same shoes. The list goes on. It’s a really easy way to let people know he’s taken and he thinks it’s just the cutest thing ever when you guys match. Matching outfits is a pretty common thing between couples and Gunwook just wants to do couple-things with you :( He’s always wanting to show you off that’s all and wanting to relate every part of his life with you. Also, the matching of the outfits happens unintentionally a lot too, which only makes him even more giddy.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓨ujin ﹙𝓱.﹚ㅤ

you’re the only one in his eyes

You are the only girl to exist in his eyes and he makes that clear. Sometimes, you have to remind him that he can actually talk to other girls without one-word responses and looking like he’s about to cry. But he’s just such a loyal person and you receive the majority of that loyalty. Yujin’s talking to everyone about you and asking for help with anything that he doesn’t quite know how to do. He just wants to make you happy (“Hyung, what should I get YN for her birthday?” / “I found this cute place to take YN, what do you think?” >.<). Anywho, he also will most definitely let you know in every way that you’re the only one for him / the only one he’s interested in. Yujin doesn’t believe in talking stages, he’s the kind of boy who’s learned from the romcoms and will get straight to the point of telling you he likes you. Because if he likes you, then that’s kind of a big deal with him, and he’ll not want to keep anything from you.

subconsciously picks up after you / cleans up after you even if you try to help

Yujin is constantly following you around, like a second shadow, a puppy–whatever you want to call it. He copies your movements sometimes, but more often than that, he’s cleaning up after you. It’s become a second-nature kind of thing to him. If you leave a wrapper from a snack you’re eating on a counter, he’ll get up and throw it away for you without you even noticing. And if your room is a little messy and you both are hanging out, he’ll get up from your bed and just begin to put things away while he continues talking to you. It’s sweet the way he knows where everything goes and how you like your belongings. That doesn’t mean that you just let him pick things up for you, though. Obviously, you can take care of yourself and clean up your messes, but if Yujin is around, it’s rare for you to actually be able to help. In the beginning, you tried your best to insist on helping him pick up after you both had made a mess in your kitchen while baking, but instead of accepting your help, he’d told you to sit at the counter so he could still talk to you while he worked. Yujin just likes being helpful, and maybe a part of him wants to show you that he can take care of you too.

buys you anything you want

I feel like this is something he would learn from Gyuvin, but Yujin wouldn’t be as obvious about it. If you mention wanting something, he would act like you were begging him to get it for you (“Are you really gonna make me get this for you?” / “I can’t keep buying things for you, YN”) even though you hadn’t even said anything about even buying it in the first place. Much less having him purchase it for you. Literally gives the “fine, *eye roll*, whatever” energy, but in a teasing way. Yujin doesn’t like making things easy for you, one of his love languages is teasing, but in the end, he wants to make you happy. And that includes the little things and pampering you by getting you small gifts. This treatment is most common with food or drinks. He would get you a snack before seeing you and then pretend that it was completely a coincidence: “They just happened to have your favorite drink at the vending machine too. Super weird” even though there’s only one convenience store that has that beverage so you know he went out of his way to get it for you :,)

[aventurineswife]

can you do under the mistletoe with the side characters too please? maybe with luke as a platonic parent/son one? ty!!!

All I Want for Christmas is You

Tags: Side Characters x Reader [Diavolo x Reader, Barbatos x Reader, Solomon x Reader, Simeon x Reader, Luke x Reader (PLATONIC‼️), Raphael x Reader, Thirteen x Reader, Mephistopheles x Reader], Romantic, Platonic (Luke!), Christmas, Mistletoe, Kisses and Hugs, Winter Special, Affection, Sweet Moments, Playful Interactions.

Diavolo

You and Diavolo are standing by the grand Christmas tree in the Demon Lord’s castle, both admiring the beautiful decorations. The soft glow of the lights flickers, and a mischievous smile crosses his face as he looks up to see the mistletoe hanging just above you both.

“Ah, it looks like we’ve found ourselves in quite the festive situation,” Diavolo says, his voice warm with amusement. He steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face, his golden eyes sparkling with affection. “I can’t resist the chance to share a kiss beneath the mistletoe, not when it’s with someone as wonderful as you.”

He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, savoring the warmth of the moment. “This is the best part of the holidays, don’t you think? Sharing special moments with you.”

Barbatos

Barbatos, ever so graceful and composed, stands beside you in the lavish dining hall. The room is filled with laughter and the sound of cheerful conversations, but your eyes are drawn to the mistletoe above you both.

Barbatos smiles, the faintest glint of playfulness in his eyes. “It seems we’re at a crossroads, my dear. Mistletoe, after all, does have a magical way of bringing people closer.”

He gently takes your hand, guiding you toward him as he leans in. His lips meet yours in a delicate kiss, soft and tender, as though savoring the moment. “Merry Christmas,” he murmurs after the kiss, brushing a strand of hair from your face with the utmost care. "It would be impossible to celebrate without you by my side."

Solomon

The holiday festivities are in full swing at the Purgatory Hall, and as you wander through the halls, you find Solomon waiting under a sprig of mistletoe with a roguish grin on his face.

"Well, well, it looks like fate has decided to intervene," he teases, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I’d say it’s practically a sign that we should share a kiss, don’t you agree?”

You laugh, shaking your head at his playful attitude. Solomon steps in, closing the space between you, and plants a soft, teasing kiss on your lips. “Consider that a Christmas gift, my dear apprentice. Who knew your teacher could still surprise you?”

Simeon

Simeon watches you with a fond smile as the two of you walk together through the peaceful garden, where Christmas lights twinkle like stars. His expression softens as he notices the mistletoe above you both.

With a gentle chuckle, Simeon holds your gaze. “I suppose we have no choice, do we?”

He steps closer, cupping your cheek with one hand, his thumb brushing across your skin in the most tender of gestures. He presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips, his heart warm with love. “Merry Christmas, My Dove. I hope this season brings you all the joy you deserve.”

Luke

You catch sight of Luke, the little angel, near the mistletoe hanging in the hallway, looking up at it curiously. When his eyes meet yours, his face lights up with an innocent smile.

“Hey, MC! There’s mistletoe above us!” he exclaims excitedly. "That means I have to do something, right?"

You chuckle, squatting down to his level, and he hugs you tightly. “I may not be old (physically and mentally) enough to kiss anyone yet, but I can definitely give you a big hug!”

Luke wraps his small arms around you in a warm, sincere hug. “Merry Christmas, MC! You’re like family to me.”

You smile, giving him a gentle pat on the back. “You’re like family to me too, Luke. Merry Christmas.”

Raphael

Raphael is walking through the halls of the Purgatory Hall, lost in thought, when he notices the mistletoe hanging above you both. His brow furrows slightly, but there’s a softness in his gaze as he looks at you.

“Well, this is a bit unexpected, but I won’t complain.” he says with a rare, shy smile.

You can feel the warmth of his touch as he gently takes your hand, guiding you closer. His lips brush yours in a gentle, tender kiss, his eyes closing for a brief moment as he savors the closeness. “Merry Christmas, MC. You’ve made this season truly special for me.”

Thirteen

Thirteen’s chaotic energy fills the room, and you can hardly keep up with her constant bouncing around. As you walk under the mistletoe, she suddenly stops, eyes gleaming mischievously.

“Well, well, well, looks like the mistletoe has spoken, huh?” she grins widely, all teeth and sparkle. “I guess we should make it official then, shouldn’t we?”

Before you can react, she grabs your face and pulls you into a kiss, her energy infusing the moment with a playful spark. When she pulls away, she winks. “Merry Christmas, MC! You’re the best!”

Mephistopheles

Mephistopheles stands by the fireplace, a glass of wine in hand as he watches you approach. His lips curl into a sly grin when he sees the mistletoe.

“Well, this is quite the festive sight, isn’t it?” he says, his voice smooth like velvet.

You raise an eyebrow, but before you can respond, he’s already closing the distance, his fingers grazing your arm as he leans in. His kiss is slow and deliberate, full of a smoldering intensity that leaves you breathless for a moment. When he pulls away, his grin only deepens.

“Merry Christmas, MC. I’ll be sure to make this a holiday you won’t forget.”

Posting this a month before Christmas 🫣🎄

[dorabellingham]

Drunk Call

warning: alcoholic beverages, being unconscious

characters: jude x reader

summary: when you call him in the middle of the night because you haven't gotten over the breakup

may contain spelling and translation errors!

It was a silent night in Madrid and Jude was sitting on the sofa in his apartment, his eyes fixed on the television, but not really paying attention to what was playing. His mind was somewhere else, or rather, with someone else. You. Since the breakup, things had never been the same for him. He knew he needed to move on, but how? When everything around him seemed to have your memories embedded in it? The sound of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts. He looked at the screen. It was you. His hand hesitated for a moment before answering, his heart pounding in his chest.

—Y/n?

His voice came out cautious, almost fearful.

—Jude... —Your tone was slurred, tearful, unmistakably drunk. —Please, don’t hang up.

He sat up straighter, a wave of worry taking over him.

—Y/n, what’s going on? Are you okay?

—No... —You sobbed, and he felt the lump in his throat tighten. —I... I'm horrible. I can't do this anymore. I can't live without you, Jude.

His heart sank. He wanted to tell you that he felt the same way, that every day without you was a constant struggle. But he knew you weren't in the right state to hear that right now.

—Where are you?

He asked, trying to stay calm.

—At home... —You laughed humorlessly. —Alone, as always. Honey... can you come? I know I shouldn't ask this, but...

He was already grabbing the keys before you could even finish.

—Stay there, okay? I'm going.

When Jude got to your apartment, the door was already unlocked, which only increased his concern. He walked in and found you sitting on the floor in the living room, holding a half-empty bottle of wine and with your eyes red from crying so much.

—Y/n...

He approached slowly, kneeling in front of you.

You looked at him, your eyes watering, and suddenly started laughing.

—You came. I can't believe you came.

—Of course I did. —He put the bottle aside and held your face in his hands. —What's happening to you?

You shook your head, tears starting to flow again.

—I'm broken, Jude. I know I was the one who broke up, but... I didn't know it would be like this. I didn't know it would hurt so much.

He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your words.

—Sweetie, you're drunk. We should talk about this when you're better.

—No! —You held onto his shirt, almost as if you were afraid he would disappear. —I need to say this now. Jude, I love you. I've always loved you, and I was an idiot for thinking I could live without you.

Your words hit him like a punch to the chest. He loved you. He always had. And hearing it from you now, even in that state, made everything inside him want to scream that he felt the same way.

—Y/n...

He started, but you interrupted.

—You can hate me. You can ignore me tomorrow. But today, Jude, please, just hold me.

He couldn't resist. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tight, as if he could protect you from all the pain you were feeling. You cried against his chest, sobbing, as he ran his hand through your hair.

—I never hated you. —He whispered. —Not for a second.

You pulled away just enough to look at him, your eyes shining with a mix of sadness and hope.

—Then stay... just for today.

Jude nodded, unable to deny you anything at that moment. He helped you up and took you to the bedroom, where you lay down, still holding his hand as if it was the only thing keeping you on the ground.

—Will you be here when I wake up?

You asked, your voice trembling, before closing your eyes.

He squeezed your hand gently, feeling a new wave of emotions rise within him.

—I’m not going anywhere, Y/n. I promise.

And that night, as you slept, he stayed by your side, watching you, fighting his own demons and wondering if, perhaps, you could still have a future together.

part 2?

[undercoverdonderwolk]

https://www.tumblr.com/undercoverdonderwolk/768105236354170880/like-not-to-turn-this-into-something-it-isnt-but

re this: same energy as the one time he picked daniel to be the one who would save him if he drowned only to immediately follow up with ‘but we would probably die together heheee’ like bro… he literally picked daniel for no other reason than him being daniel. not because daniel has the ability to save him, but because even if he drowned it would still be okay if daniel’s by his side. full on i choose you not because of your capability, but despite your incapability, no hesitation. that sealed the deal for me frrrrr like yeah that’s how deep and real this shit is for themmmm we can heeheeehahaah all we want but it IS THAT deep and real for them!!!

no like literally exactly! and while i love the turn of phrase "picking someone not because of your capability but despite your incapability" i would argue that it goes even further than that. because it's about trust. who you think will at least earnestly try to save you. who would have your back even if having your back in that particular context isn't particularly useful. and i think that's what makes me so crazy about the two of them, is that in a sport where having enemies gets you further ahead, where there are no buddies, just people you have to beat, where trusting someone is what makes you lose, they still trust each other implicitly and after all this time. because that's what these kind of questions come down to to max, imho. who do you trust? and yeah there are friendships on the grid, yeah there are drivers who hang out but how many of them trust each other? really trust each other to have each other's best interest when it comes down to it?? and that's why max can't name anyone else. why he always goes back to daniel when it comes to these kind of questions, even when daniel is no longer there to go back to. because he is the only one max trusts. in a sport where trusting someone is more often than not the same as letting yourself get fucked over, max and daniel somehow managed to reach a point where there is not just liking each other, not just friendship that goes beyond forced proximity, but real honest to god trust. crazy

[heavenlyraindrops]

The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter Three

also available on AO3 and Quotev | visit first tag to find other chapters | warnings: pre- s1 (for now), mentions of pregnancy (you’re not the one who’s pregnant dont worry)

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter Three:

Caring for Alice had proved harder than you’d expected. You needed places to leave her while you went out to run errands too- the enforcers had quit looking for her, assuming she was dead.

You’d grown closer to Vander too, and Felicia, through Silco. A day or two whining at the bar had resulted in Vander offering to keep her at the bar during the day.

You narrowed your eyes at him, swirling your straw around in your cup before taking a long sip. Felicia put her hand on your shoulder.

“It’s fine, [name]. Vander’s good with kids.” She flashed you a toothy grin. You slowly exhaled, not moving to shrug her hand off. You peered over the counter to see Alice with her back pressed to the inside of the bar, scribbling on a piece of paper.

“Fine, I guess. But don’t let her out.”

“You know it’s calm during the day. She’ll be fine.”

“Not a foot outside the building.”

Silco stepped out from the back, a book clutched in his hand. You looked at him, studying his face slowly. 

“How about you tell me.” You flicked your head towards him, and he raised an eyebrow. “Should I leave Alice here during the day?”

He grinned, and you could see his chipped tooth. “She’ll be fine here.”

That reassured you, and you quickly took another long sip from your drink.

So it was decided. While you went out to make whatever money you could, instead of locking Alice up in your tiny apartment you left her at the Last Drop, where Vander and Felicia would keep an eye on her.

You stood up, the barstool scraping, and went round to Alice. “Come on. It’s time to go home.” She stood up, handing you the crumpled piece of paper. It was a drawing of you both.

“This is lovely,” you cooed as you led her out of the bar, flashing the three a grateful smile as the door shut. And you took her home.

Over time you’d grown a maternal love for her. She kept your lonely self company, when Silco wasn’t around. And Felicia and Vander just weren’t the same. Seated in your cold apartment, you brushed through her tangled hair, shared a mediocre dinner, and went to bed.

Tangled in the sheets for warmth, she clutched your shirt. “Is mommy coming back?” She mumbled, half asleep yet still wide eyed. A sharp stab of guilt tore at your chest.

“No,” you whispered, and wrapped your arm around her, burying her into the crook of your neck. 

“Are you my mommy now?” Her voice was so small it broke your heart even more.

“Yes baby,” you reassured her. “You have me now.”

You both fell asleep.

-

“She thinks I’m her mother now.”

You took a drag of the cigarette, looking out over the rooftops. The sky was clear, azure blue hanging over you both like a blanket. Silco side-eyed you, reaching for the cigarette.

You turned and blew smoke in his face, making him recoil, and laughed at his face. He indignantly snatched the cigarette from you and took a flustered drag on it.

“Aren’t you?”

“Well I-“ you stared at him. “I don’t know. I guess I… stepped up.”

“Certainly,” he drawled, smoke wafting through the hair. You scooted closer to him and reached for the cigarette, fingers closing around his. He looked at you.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said quietly. “You’re sure she’s safe with Vander?”

He smiled softly, and let you take the cigarette from his hands. “I’m sure.”

“If anything happens to her, I’ll kill myself.”

The heavy words escaped you so easily you hardly noticed. Silco flinched, and put a hand on your knee, chuckling nervously.

“Please don’t.”

Your eyes flew to his hand. He snatched it away.

“Where have you been, Silco?” You asked, voice dropping low again. “I haven’t seen you in a week. And that hair-“ you moved to brush a lock of hair obscuring part of his face. “It’s getting in the-…”

He stared at you. “What?”

“Where did this come from?” You lightly poked the bruise, and he flinched, snapping his head away. “Silco.”

“You know people get into scrapes. It’s fine.”

“Right, but you don’t. And this looks bad.” Your fingertips traced down his cheekbone to the cut across his jaw.

“It’s fine, [name].” He grabbed your wrist. “I’m fine.”

“Just promise you’ll be safe.” You took a drag of the cigarette.

“Of course I do.”

You blew the smoke in his face and he frowned.

“Promise.”

He sighed, relenting. “I promise I’ll be safe.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder and offered him the cancer stick. “Good,” you hummed contentedly, feeling him tense then relax beneath your cheek as he gingerly plucked it from your fingers.

You weren’t sure if he was holding up on the promise.

Days after that he’d return with more bruises, or simply not show up at all. You would stay up on the roof until it was time for you to leave, and wouldn’t find him at the Last Drop either. Vander and Felicia were rather unhelpful considering his whereabouts, and he refused to speak of them. Another evening of waiting on the roof, he arrived late.

You sat up, watching him slightly shake as he dropped down next to you. His lip was split.

“Silco.” Your voice was strained.

“What?” He sounded slightly breathless. “I made it.”

“What are you getting yourself into?” Your voice shook, and he blanched, shocked at the genuine worry in your tone. “Tell me the truth.”

“[name], I…”

“Please. You promised me.”

After a long moment of studying your face, he sighed. “You can’t tell anyone, [name].” You circled your arms around his.

“I won’t,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“I… I’m a member of a-“ he cleared his throat. “Resistance group.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

“The Children of Zaun.”

He didn’t say anything more. You sat up straight, pulling away from him. “That’s it?” Your voice was a dangerous whisper. “That’s all you’ll tell me?”

“For your safety.” He sounded urgent. 

You stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. In truth, your heart was pounding with fear. For him. But then you nodded.

“Don’t die. If anything happens to you, I’ll kill myself.”

He seemed so sick at hearing those words you figured it would be enough to keep him cautious. 

“Now let me bum a cigarette.”

He relaxed, then chuckled, pulling out a pack. “You’ve bled me dry.”

“Don’t run dry then.” You watched as he placed one between his lips, and held out your lighter. He leaned into the flame. Pulled away. The lighter snapped shut. Inhaled. Moved the cigarette from his lips.

And blew the smoke in your face.

You coughed, shocked. “You- you bastard!”

But he was laughing.

You laughed too.

You leaned back into him. He let you.

“I know how much Zaun means to you,” you whispered. “I know you want a better place for the next generations.” You looked up at him, eyes saying one thing. But please be safe.

He stayed silent, looking back at you. And then he spoke softly. “Felicia’s pregnant.”

You sat up. “What?”

He grinned and nodded.

“Then- then who’s the father?”

“Connol.”

“Silco… this is…”

He looked at your unsure expression, and then held out the cigarette. “It’s good.”

You nodded. “It’s great.”

[autlantic]

BREAK

iwaizumi x reader , oikawa x reader

1.4k words

break - alex g.

you and oikawa are in a turbulent, toxic relationship. when it’s ‘off’ rather than ‘on’, iwaizumi is the one there to pick up the pieces- and wish you were his.

angst, hurt/no comfort, sfw

tapping out, in my head i see bright lights

It’s dark when you decide to head home, moonlight spilling over the tennis courts in thick silvery ribbons. The rest of your team had already left, giggling goodbyes wrapped in scarves and gloves, with a humerous warning for you to get home safe. Usually you all walk home together, but a simple beep from your gym bag was now the reason you sat on the damp rubbery flooring, hands squeezed into fists as you stared at the message before you.

“I think it’s time for us to break up properly. You know I love you though.”

You and Oikawa had a long history. Since meeting in your first year of high school, you had been on again off again in an intense and unconventional relationship- and you truly loved him more than anything. His pearlescent smile and lingering eyes were captivating, and the way he’d honed in on you so quickly was an absolute dream.

He couldn’t be serious, could he? You had been on many breaks before, the charismatic boy often cruel and borderline unbearable, but you had never actually broken up.

Blinking back the harsh sting in the corner of your eyes, you hauled yourself off the floor, smoothing down your little tennis skirt and patting down your hair to make sure it wasn’t unruly from practice. When confident in your usual immaculate appearance, you grabbed your gym bag and began to march over to the volleyball gym.

It was late, and no sound came from the schools most treasured building. Pushing open the door, you made a direct move towards the changing rooms, a route you had taken a million times before.

“Tooru?”

Silence. Your brows furrowed.

“Tooru? Are you in there? I need to speak to you!”

The door swung open, but to your surprise it was not the arrogant captain you’d expected.

Iwaizumi stood in the doorway, a towel slung round his broad shoulders and his spiky hair wet. Your name left his lips.

“What are you doing here? Oikawa said-”

“Is he here?” you replied impatiently, cutting him off. The spiker shook his head, peering down at you pitifully.

When you and Tooru had first started dating, you and Iwaizumi hadn’t bothered with each other. In his eyes, you were just another girl his best friend was chasing after, and in yours he simply wasn’t worth your limited time. However, once your relationship hit a year a friendship finally started to blossom. Iwaizumi would always take your side in bickers with Tooru, and even came to a few of your tennis games when your boyfriend couldn’t make it. By a year and a half, he was just Hajime, and the two of you would even hang out during the ‘off’ sections of your toxic relationship.

“He left early with Yuki.”

—

riding in, i think i’m feeling it now just like you did

—

You sat on a rain-soaked wooden bench outside the local corner store. Iwaizumi had offered to walk you home, and stopped to buy you an ice cream when you finally burst into floods of tears.

“Here. Such a weirdo wanting ice cream in this weather.” He unwrapped the lurid green plastic, holding out the sweet melon flavoured ice cream for you to take. The second he sat down you resumed your position nestled into the crook of his neck, inhaling the comforting smell of pine and musk, so different from Tooru’s harsh mint and expensive aftershave.

“Why is he doing this to me?” You sniffled, peering up at the boy next to you.

Hajime’s eyes softened instantly. The streetlight was shining directly onto you, making the tear streaks glow down your reddened cheeks, lip trembling slightly. It was rare to see you like this; even during the worst of your fights with Oikawa, you would usually hold your chin up and storm off, angry rather than sad.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t know. He’s just- being shittykawa like usual.” Iwaizumi says softly, knowing it won’t help. Not this time.

You look up into the warm hazel pools of his eyes. Hajime’s always been so good to you. You weren’t stupid, you knew how he felt; he didn’t have to say it out loud, it was obvious from the lingering glances and softness is his tone when you were present. He loved you, maybe even more than Tooru did.

———

“Iwa-chan! You’re such a brute today!” Tooru complained, having been hit with a ball for the sixth time since practice had started an hour ago.

The captain didn’t pout for long, spinning the ball on his finger as he started to talk about his date with Yuki. Again. “She’s totally obsessed with me, you know. Like most girls. She even brought me some homemade…”

Iwaizumi couldn’t cope anymore. Why was his friend acting like this? Like he didn’t just end a three year long relationship the day before?

“What about your girlfriend?” The spiker spat, trying to restrain his anger.

“I don’t have one.” Tooru’s eyes narrowed, hand moving to his hip. “You know this. And don’t act so surprised! It’s not like it was working out anyway.” The captain shrugged, turning back towards the net as if he was talking about the weather or what he was going to eat that night. “You won’t have to fulfil my boyfriend duties when i’m busy now. It’s a win-win!”

Hajime winced at that. Oikawa was so confident you’d never see anyone else in a romantic way, that it didn’t even cross his mind. His hands balled into fists.

—

taking hits for you, cause i wanna feel like i’m supposed to

—

You wanted to love Iwaizumi. You really did.

You decided that when you saw him waiting for you by the school gates, ready to walk you home after dark now that his best friend couldn’t.

“Hey.” He smiled fondly at you, eyes lingering at the hem of your white tennis skirt, then your mouth which finally had a semblance of a smile.

“Hey, Haji.” You spoke softly, unsure what you’d done to deserve this level of friendship and care from the usually stoic athlete.

The two of you began the walk home, talking for a while, then falling into comforting silence. You wondered if he’d noticed the sore redness and tired purple circles round your eyes, wordless giveaways of your heartbroken state. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“I wish it had been you.” You whispered into the quiet night air.

Iwaizumi froze at your words, stopped a few feet behind you until you glanced back. You were being selfish. You knew it.

His eyes were hard to read, but you could tell he was surprised by what you’d said. The two of you stood staring in silence for a period of time, both unsure of what to say next, after your confession of knowing how he felt.

God, it felt good to have this effect on someone. To be loved and wanted. You wanted to be touched, as well. Your feet began to move before your brain could catch up.

It was cruel.

It was wrong.

He sank into you as you pressed your lips on his, pressing yourself against his warm chest as if he was a lifeline and you’d fallen overboard. The kiss was harsh, a clash of teeth and tongue and unanswered questions. His lips were slightly chapped, and he tasted warm and comforting. He was hot to the touch.

Tooru had been soft, with cold canines scraping against your mouth, setting your skin on fire.

You backed away from the visibly shocked boy in front of you. He was flushed, panting. Eyes waiting.

What had you done?

—

I could disappear, if this is what makes me feel so real

—

You sobbed yourself to sleep that night. Whether it was the guilt or the heartbreak you didn’t know- which one felt worse was impossible to tell. The next morning, you had six missed calls from Hajime, and yet your eyes focused instantly on the singular incoming call from Tooru.

You pressed accept before you could think about it too deeply.

“Why did you do it.”

Tooru’s voice was low, and you could picture the snarl on his lips.

“My best friend? Really?” You stayed silent. He spoke again. “Well it worked.”

“What do you mean it worked?” You choked out, swallowing down the lump wallowing in the back of your throat.

“I’m coming to walk you to school. Leave the scarf behind, yeah? You know I like to see your neck.”

this was supposed to be a oneshot, but maybe part 2?