#I’m shaking at your touch I like you way to much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pangur-and-grim · 1 day ago

Text

look I'm deleting this so soon, but you can see it for a sec

I met Jorg by accident while hunting for cool rocks in the creek.

My pockets already bulged with stones, the weight pulling my pants dangerously low on my ass, but with the sun high above, I felt plenty ready to continue my search. That is, until I splashed too close to the old bridge.

“I cry your mercy, my peerless paramour,” came a voice like stones and kittens in a shaken bag. It took a moment to parse it as language.

“What?” I said, unfolding from my crouched position in the water.

“Seekest thou a trinket?” From the depth of shadows under the bridge, I saw two eyes shining like silver coins.

“Uh,” I said. “Just rocks, really. I’m hoping for a fossil, or maybe nice and sparkly to put on my shelf, you know? Or wait, here.” And shaking my hand dry, I shoved it into a loaded pocket, searching by touch for the best of my finds. “Here,” I said, pulling it out, “See how yellow this is? With white banding? I’m fully ignorant about its geology, you might know more than me, but it looks lovely. Like a lemon custard. Would you like to see?”

A terrible hand unfurled from the shadows. The wind shifted then, and its smell hit me, like freshly dug earth and the salty musk of an overworked horse. I continued to smile politely as I sloshed closer. Under the bridge’s shadow, the summer lost its warmth.

I placed the rock onto its central paw pad. It struck me, then – I’d forgotten to clarify I’d like the rock back afterward, but now it seemed too late. Fingers closed about the stone.

“Again, I don’t know much, so apologies if it’s ordinary. I’m actually in an engineering program, so could tell you more about this bridge than what’s under it.”

With my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could now assess the creature. It hunched to fit under the confines of the stone bridge, all pale wormy skin and tufts of colourless fur, with ears that sharpened into points. As the creature brought the stone to its muzzle and huffed, I let my eyes roam the bridge’s underside, searching for something I could comment on.

Unfortunately, I found it. “Oh, fuck.”

“Trouble, my sweeting?”

“Yeah, you see the cracks there? The bridge’s foundation is crumbling. That’s no good. I mean, not that it’ll collapse at this exact moment, but–“

The bridge shook then, as something heavy passed across it at speed. I sloshed out into the sunlight and squinted at the vehicle speeding away: Mr. Manor, who’d renovated the farmhouse across the creek into something modern and flavourless.

“Asshole!” I shouted after the car. Wading back under the bridge, I said, “Sorry about that. Got a bit carried away.”

It hunched, shivering in the shadows. “Beshrew that rolling waste,” it hissed, and I nodded in agreement. Once again, my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I realized that it was a he.

“So, not big on clothes, then?” I leaned against a bridge wall, running my fingers along its cracks. “I get that.”

He grunted acknowledgment, before turning to dig through a heap of rags and trash. When the creature found what he sought, he yipped in delight. “Your trinket, dearworth!”

Between two taloned claws, he brandished a lump of shiny yellow.

“Is that gold?” Despite my waving and stuttering, he kept his enormous hand held out to me, and so with some nervousness I took the lump.

The creature radiated heat. Fresh sweat broke out across my chest from our proximity. “Honestly, I can’t possibly accept this.” Though, turning the lump this way and that, I did admire how it caught the faint light beneath the bridge. I could already picture how it might fulfil a similar role on my windowsill.

“By my troth,” the creature insisted, in his clicking hiss, “It is fitting.”

“I feel like I’m being courted.” I cradled the precious stone like it was an egg that might crack. At his unwavering stare, I blanched. “Am I? You know that I’m a guy, right?”

“A choice sweetmeat,” the creature said, and grinned. He unfolded his long, simian arm, and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across my eyes.

Oh, so the creature was a homosexual!

“Be that as it may,” I coughed, feeling my cheeks heat, “I do actually have to go. I promised to do the groceries today. But you know…” And I hesitated, unsure how to broach it. “This is an old bridge. It can’t handle all this modern usage.”

“Aye,” the creature said, in a sad grumble, before perking up. “Pray thee come again?”

“Of course!” I said, a little too eagerly, and then look away in embarrassment. “I mean, always more rocks to find, right? Thank you again, for the. . . thank you!” For a second time, I splashed my way out from under the bridge. Then I turned. “What’s your name, by the way?”

His eyes gleamed like twin moons in the dark. “Jorg,” he rattled. Or possibly ‘George’, it was hard to tell.

“See you later, Jorg!”

Only when I’d waded to the shore and slipped into my waiting flip flops did I allow myself break into a full grin. I didn’t slip the gold into my pocket, instead dancing it between my fingers for the full walk along the roadside, and into the shopping plaza.

Only after I’d entered the No Frills did I realize that a crackling layer of creek sediment coated me from the waist-down,. I grabbed a plastic basket from the entrance stack and, suffering a few glances from the more cleanly folk, began hunting. Dish detergent, paper towels, a bag of honey crisp apples, all bran cereal…even with that repeated mantra, it was hard to focus. My body tingled with the remembrance of the creature’s wafting heat and salty odour. Self-checkout took far longer than it otherwise might, with the woman behind me sighing pointedly, but that hardly mattered.

I stepped into the parking lot with my arms and heart full. Truly, I wasn’t planning on a confrontation, until I saw Mr. Manor's parked car. “Ah, damn.” I said, and turned to head back in.

The doors slid open for me with a cool puff of air. It felt strange to walk in with bags of purchased produce, like the opposite of stealing, but nobody stopped me.

I found Mr. Manor in amongst the vegetables, fingering a ripe tomato. His face held a similar colour, his cheeks branched with broken veins.

“Hey there,” I said. He acknowledged me with a polite nod and then tried to turn away, so I stepped in closer. “Hey, I’m a neighbour, sort of. I’ve been away for college, you won’t have seen me around.”

“Okay,” said Mr. Manor. He held his tomato in one hand, and a plastic bag in another. Clearly, he was wondering whether it would be rude to start loading his bag while I still demanded his attention.

“Anyway, so the old stone bridge? I’ve seen you driving over it with, what is that, an electric car? A Tesla?”

“Yeah.” He had shaggy brows, which crept closer together.

“So, the bridge is old, like real old, probably meant for horses and wagons, right?”

He stared back at me, gripping his tomato.

“You’ve got some kind of mythological creature living under it, did you know?”

“Yeah,” he said, and carefully placed his tomato into the plastic bag. It was a signal to me, that his civility was waning. I cut to the chase.

“So, I reckon the bridge isn’t meant for the repeated weight of a car driving over it, right? I was under there – “

“You were under my bridge?”

“Well, sure, looking for stones, so anyways I saw cracks and stuff? Signs of degradation? And normally I wouldn’t bother you, except you know, you’ve got a mythological creature living under there.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” said Mr. Manor, and in rapid motions stuffed three more tomatoes into his bag. “You needn’t concern yourself with this any further.”

The billow of air conditioning, and the gentle misting that kept the bins of assorted greenery hydrated, all conspired to give me energy.

“You know, the mythological creature, I think he’s a homosexual?” I said, as Mr. Manor tried to quick step away.

That stopped him. “That’s not something I care about. I mean, my niece is going through a lesbian phase right now, I’ve always been accepting.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, only that the bridge probably can’t take the weight of your car over and over.”

“I always vote left-wing.”

“Okay, so the bridge, though?”

Mr. Manor nodded, his face going even redder, and I knew in that moment that he wouldn’t do a thing. My fingers ached from standing with full grocery bags, so I gave up and left the store.

Outside, the parking lot shimmered in the heat. I squinted, pained by the sun. Even with sweat beading on my forehead, I still altered my route to pass Mr. Manor’s tesla, and lightly kicked one wheel. The motion swung my grocery bags, one of them hitting me in the thigh. “Ow!”

The walk home had me regretting the confrontation. My arms and fingers hurt, no matter how I shuffled the bags, and sweat rolled into my eyes and stung them. Walking up my front steps brought some relief, though I grew unbearably annoyed fishing for my keys. Finally, with a click and a creak, the door opened. I dropped the bags in the front hall and stood there, luxuriating in the air conditioning.

My sister sat in the kitchen, scrolling through Instagram.

“Hey Mary,” I said, and she grunted in response. “You know, there’s some kinda creature living under the bridge?”

“What bridge?”

“Like a fifteen-minute walk away, -ish? Anyway, so his name is Jorg, I think. Or George. Probably Jorg. I think he’s a homosexual.”

“Oh?” Mary looked up from her phone. She’d overloaded her mascara today, so that flakes of it deposited on her upper cheek as she blinked. “Are you interested?”

“Mary, he’s a mythological creature.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m interested.” I considered telling her about the bridge, but she’d probably ask what I planned next. She might even start a social media campaign, and I hadn’t decided to care to that extent. Not yet, anyway.

The next morning, I woke up incredibly aroused. “By God,” I said, staring at my bedroom ceiling. “I need to get back to that bridge!”

My head felt wonderfully empty. I choked down bran cereal, fended off conversational attempts from my mother, and scraped the black mud from beneath my nails with a file. No concern existed, as to when I’d be back at my university program, or how I’d finance it, having thoroughly fucked up my scholarship. Only the careful selection of which shorts and shirt a bridge troll might prefer me in. I’d just settled on a tight-fitting grey number, emblazoned with a wriggling salmon, when the first ambulance drove by. The whine of its siren came first, like the breathless scream of an animal, and then my room flashed red and blue. Then, it was past,

It took 9 minutes of jogging to reach the bridge, and as I panted my way down the country roadside, another ambulance passed, and then a tow truck. I clutched at the gold in my pocket, feeling it take the warmth of my hand.

When I approached the scene, my fears became a solid thing in front of me. A pile of rumble blocked the creek, which, resisting this imposition, climbed its bank to trickle into new paths at either side. Mr. Manor’s Tesla had come close to making it across before the collapse, before falling. It reared like a horse, statically, its back end crushed by centuries-old stones. Mr. Manor himself lay in a wheeled stretcher, seemingly uninjured, though they’d strapped something stupid about his neck. Likely a precaution. His face, red as a tomato, contorted with an anger that he took out, in barks, on the paramedics. While I might have rolled him into the creek, the EMT’s stoically loaded him into an ambulance.

“Hey,” I called, as they shut the doors, leaving one of their fellows inside with Mr. Manor, “There’s a guy who lives under that bridge!”

A thickset woman with a peeling sunburn looked at me with deep-blue eyes, while her co-worker, a short man, grimaced at her in anticipation of further work.

“Sorry, not a guy,” I corrected, “A mythological creature.”

All the tension left their shoulders. “That’s not our department,” the woman said, scratching at her sunburnt cheek.

“But, I mean,” I spluttered, “You won’t do anything at all?”

“Legally, we can’t. You have to take a special course, we don’t have the credentials.” She spoke with a patience that bordered on kindness, but it didn’t feel as though any of that kindness extended towards Jorg. I couldn’t think of anything further to say, so they left.

The ambulance took off with a silenced siren. Its lights flashed calmly, painting the collapsed stones blue and red in turn. Its sister ambulance, whose occupants hadn’t bothered to step out in my presence, peeled off and followed, leaving me alone with the tow truck.

“Can you move the rubble, at all?” I asked.

The tow-man stood with hands on his hips, surveying. I recognized him from around town, but we’d never spoken. He always kept his grey-streaked hair high in a ponytail.

“Not my job,” he said, “I just gotta get that car out.”

“There’s a mythological creature underneath all that.” I pointed at the rubble, but the man said nothing in response. “I think he’s a homosexual.”

“Hey, my brother’s a gay,” the man said, lighting a cigarette, “It’s still not my job. Don’t even have the right stuff on hand for this.” Then his voice lowered into a indistinguishable grumble, listing all the materials he needed, and the traffic that awaited, and the general progression of his morning. I didn’t listen, but I also tried not to cough on his cigarette smoke, as that might be rude.

Seeing as nobody else would do a damn thing, I took off my flips flops. Then, I carefully climbed down the bank into the creek, letting the water swallow my feet up to the ankles. Glancing back at the road revealed it to be empty, with the tow truck finally having cleared off.

“Damn,” I said, “This isn’t my department, either.” Even so, I pried at the piled rubble, lifting small, manageable pieces. These, I heaved into the creek with great frothing splashes.

“Jorg?” I called at intervals. Each time I stopped, straining for any hint of a reply. I never heard any.

The sun got higher, and hotter, and I ran out of pieces I could lift. Sitting on the creek bank, I wiped my hands dry on a pant leg, then scrolled through my phone to find out whose department this was, exactly.

Broken websites. Links which lead to more links, which lead back to the original page in an ouroboros. Government sites in need of updating. No numbers to call, nobody to email.

In a last ditch, I called 911. “Hey there,” I said, when they asked for my emergency. “So, the old bridge collapsed, close to the No Frills? Off the highway?”

“Sir, we’ve already had people on the scene for this situation.”

“Well,” and I clutched grass between my fingers, tearing it free from the earth. “There’s a mythological creature buried underneath the rubble, is all.”

“We don’t deal with that, sir.”

“He’s a homosexual, I’m pretty sure.”

“We don’t deal with that, sir.”

“Okay, well there’s got to be someone who does deal with it. Who should I be calling here, what should I do?”

She gave me a web address that I’d already looked at, and then ended the call. “Fuck,” I said, without real passion. The Tesla couldn’t speak, but standing vertically with its ass pinched by rubble, I reckon it would agree with my assessment.

With the exception of the car, and the bridge, the day seemed perfectly ordinary, all blue sky and pleasant warmth.

A few more handfuls of pulled grass, and then I got back to work, scrabbling over the collapsed bridge and prying at its ruined components. My carefully chosen shirt grew wet with sweat, and as my odour developed, I realized that I’d ran out without applying antiperspirant. “Sorry if I smell,” I said to nobody, as I threw another Victorian-era stone into the creek. Then the bridge shifted under me, and I fell to one knee, scraping my skin.

“Damn,” I said, shaken. Carefully, I climbed down from the ruin, splashing through the creek to the shore. With the present instability, it could easily shift and crush a leg or a foot.

“This isn’t my department,” I said to the wreckage. “This isn’t anyone’s department, it seems.” Beads of red trickled down my shin, diluted by the water that still dripped from me.

I rested back on the warm bank, and took out Jorg’s gift, rolling it between my fingers. With my free hand, I scrolled through websites, their links already purple. The gold lump cast reflected beams of light across my touchscreen.

I dialed a few town council numbers, without result. Nobody came, no more flashing lights. Once I thought I heard a scratching, but when I pressed my ear to the piled stone, the only sound was my own ragged breathing.

Eventually, I went home.

For a time, I kept the gold on my windowsill, where it sparkled in the corner of my eye, throwing its reflection across my work, demanding my attention and my guilt, until in an angry rush I swept it into my hand and locked it in a drawer.

When I returned to the creek a year later, having financed my return to engineering though a loan, the piled debris was gone, and something modern and concrete bridged the water in its place.

Standing at the summit of this new construction, I threw the lump of gold in a glistening arc. It disappeared into the water with barely a ripple, and that was that.

every now and then I go back and read my homoerotic bridge troll story, and it's always like wait, this is kinda good

2K notes · View notes

pbaz7 · 3 days ago

Text

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART NINE

paige x azzi

word count: 6.4k

A/N: Alright I’m feeling much better and I’m no longer losing my shit after CD said she wouldn’t call it an injury 🙂‍↕️. Here’s the next chapter! It’s a little rough at the beginning but just get through it trust me . Please leave live reacts if you can, I need a little extra motivation today 😭

—————————————————————————

October 2022

For weeks after their argument, Paige kept her word. She stayed true to her role as Azzi’s best friend and was there anytime the younger girl needed her, it didn’t matter what she was doing, she was there. She did make Azzi stop coming with her to physical therapy though, and Nika had stepped in to take her place. Physical therapy always got a little too intimate when they’d ask whoever accompanied Paige to push on her knee and Paige knew that she and Azzi couldn’t handle that right now. They still spent time together–Paige helping Azzi in the gym here and there, texting during the day, hanging out sporadically, studying–but everything had changed. There were clear lines now. They didn’t flirt, they didn’t touch in ways that meant anything more than friendship. It was as though they were back to where they started, but it was painfully different.

Paige had started hanging out more with Ice, the freshman who quickly became a source of amusement for her. Ice's humor was dry and a little corny, and Paige found herself genuinely laughing more than she had since her and Azzi ended things. If that’s what you would call it. But even with Ice’s company, there were still moments when she couldn’t help but think about Azzi. It wasn’t that she didn’t love their friendship now, but it didn’t fill the large space Azzi once occupied when they were clearly more than friends.

Ice leaned back in her chair, her expression one of pure disbelief. “That’s bullshit. I refuse to believe there was a point when you and Azzi didn’t like each other.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “I swear, we couldn’t stand each other. Every little thing she did annoyed me and she hated me honestly.”

Ice raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And now look at you, a full-blown simp. How the tables have turned.”

Paige rolled her eyes, though a grin tugged at her lips. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“So how’d you two even get past that?” Ice asked, leaning forward with genuine curiosity. “Like, how’d you go from ‘can’t stand each other’ to…” she gestured vaguely, “this?”

Paige’s laugh softened, and she shrugged. “The gym, mostly. We kinda connected over basketball first. That was the one thing we could agree on. At first, we only talked about basketball—nothing else. But once we built a decent foundation of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds, we started hanging out more. It just…happened from there.”

Ice nodded thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Why don’t you just do that again this time then?”

Paige gave her a look. “We don’t need to build a foundation, Ice. She’s still my best friend.”

“Righttt,” Ice said, dragging out the word with heavy sarcasm. “Your best friend that you’re in love with, and you haven’t seen in like five days.”

Paige rolled her eyes again, though a faint blush crept up her cheeks. “We text.”

Ice snorted. “That’s not the same, and you know it.”

Paige shrugged again, a small smile playing on her lips. “It’s just… a little hard to be around each other sometimes now.”

Ice narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Why?”

Paige didn’t answer, but the grin on her face grew wider, her expression practically glowing with unspoken thoughts.

Ice groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “Ew, dude. You’re disgusting.”

Paige just laughed, grabbing a basketball nearby and bouncing it lightly off Ice’s arm. “Shut up.”

But as the laughter faded, Paige’s expression softened, her smile dimming into something more thoughtful. “Honestly though, Azzi just needs some space from me to figure things out, and I’m trying to give her that.”

Ice tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “Space for what?”

Paige hesitated, her fingers idly spinning the basketball in her lap. She glanced away briefly before answering, her tone careful and measured. “She has a lot of internal things to figure out before she can even think about being with me. I realized it a while ago but I don’t know if she has.”

Ice’s brow furrowed, but she nodded slowly. “That sounds… rough.”

“It is,” Paige admitted, her voice quieter now. “But she’s worth it. So I’m giving her what she needs.”

Ice studied her for a moment, then leaned back with a small smile. “Damn P, you really love her, huh?”

Paige didn’t even flinch. She met Ice’s gaze, a soft but unwavering certainty in her eyes. “Yeah, I do.”

Ice smirked, her teasing tone returning. “You’re still a simp, though.”

Paige groaned, chucking the basketball at her again, though the grin tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Shut up, Ice.”

November 2022

The next month was much harder than Paige thought it would be. Between missing Azzi and being sidelined by her injury and not being able to start the season with the team, she felt like she was drowning most days. Basketball, her usual escape, was no longer an option. Instead, she found herself in the gym, not to work out but to just sit in the silence, wishing she could push her body for hours on end. But eventually she’d get too frustrated when all she could do was shoot a few flat footed shots and she'd just let herself cry in the empty gym until she didn’t have any more energy. Other times, she’d just sit in her car, staring ahead, trying to calm her thoughts. More than once, she ended up sick at the sight of the back seat—a painful reminder of what, and who, was missing.

Azzi wasn’t doing much better. She’d become a mirror of who Paige used to be, burying herself in the gym day and night, trying to outrun her thoughts. Paige was still there for her, though, which made Azzi feel like even more of an ass, having somebody as sweet as Paige, just waiting for her to get her shit together. When things were a little too hard and Azzi would come to her door with tear stained eyes in the middle of the night Paige always let her in, let her talk about whatever she needed to or just sleep. The first time it happened was a random Tuesday at 3am.

Azzi’s knocks were gentle and tentative at first but it was enough for Paige to stir, her mind still fuzzy from sleep as the knock came again, a little louder this time. She groggily threw off her blanket and shuffled to the door, blinking against the dim hallway light cascading from the bottom of the door.

When she opened it, Azzi stood there, her mascara streaked down her cheeks, her eyes red and swollen, as though the weight of the world had poured out of her. There were no words, no explanations, just a look that said everything, Paige didn’t ask, she just stepped aside, letting Azzi into the warmth of the room. Azzi’s shoulders were trembling, but she didn’t speak, her chest rising and falling in slow uneven breaths. Paige closed the door softly behind her, then walked back to her bed, sinking back into the mattress where Azzi now laid, holding one of Paige’s pillows close.

Paige reached over, draping her arm against Azzi’s torso as she pulled her closer but not quite cuddling her. Just enough to let Azzi know she wasn’t alone as Paige’s eyes fluttered shut drifting back to sleep.

After that night Paige couldn’t imagine not being there for Azzi, knowing what she was struggling with. But things weren’t the same. They didn’t text everyday anymore, and their hangouts had all but stopped after it became clear that they didn’t really know how to be just friends anymore. The space between them, once so easy to close, now felt like an endless stretch.

Azzi blamed herself for what happened between them. She was constantly fighting an internal battle that seemed like a losing game. One part of her knew exactly how she felt about Paige, knew she wanted the older girl more than anything. The other half was a constant pull against this thought process. The part of her brain that was telling her she wasn’t the type of person who takes risks like this, she didn’t gamble her future that she had worked so hard for. Constantly in her own ear telling herself she had every right to be scared.

Now, Paige sat alone in the empty gym, her legs stretched out in front of her, a basketball resting at her feet. She knew she couldn’t play much, just dribble around and shoot here and there, so she came here to think, to feel some semblance of peace. The quiet of the gym was comforting, even if it couldn’t heal what was broken, only Azzi could do that.

The sound of the door opening broke the silence. Paige glanced up to see Azzi standing there, her figure framed by the dim gym lights. Azzi paused, stuck in the doorway. The sight of Paige, lost in thought, felt all too familiar, stirring memories of another time they’d both hesitated to bridge the distance between them.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, both caught in a whirlwind of emotions and memories. Paige chuckled softly at the irony, breaking the tension, and nudged the ball with her foot, sending it rolling toward Azzi.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small smile as she stepped inside, picking up the ball. She hesitated again, glancing at Paige, before making her way over. She sat down beside her but left enough space between them to keep the air light, uncertain. Neither of them spoke right away, the quiet wrapping around them like a truce.

Paige was the first to break the silence, her voice cutting through the stillness. “You played like shit last game.”

Azzi blinked, then burst out laughing, the unexpectedness of Paige’s comment catching her off guard. “Shit is an understatement,” she admitted, shaking her head.

Paige smirked, leaning back slightly. “What’d you come here to work on?”

Azzi shrugged, a noncommittal gesture. “Anything, I guess.”

Paige hummed thoughtfully as she got to her feet, grabbing the ball. Ice’s words from October echoing in her mind now. She spun the ball between her hands, glancing at Azzi. “Why you been taking so long to shoot lately?”

Azzi crossed her arms, tilting her head. “The passes are all over the place,” she said simply. “I got used to you hitting me in stride so it’s a big adjustment.”

Paige paused, nodding as she processed Azzi’s words. There was a quiet understanding in the air—an acknowledgment of how much they relied on each other, on and off the court.

By now, Azzi had stood up, her eyes tracking the ball as Paige passed it casually between her hands. Paige grinned. “Let’s work on it.”

Azzi raised a brow, confused. “Work on what?”

Paige laughed, her grin widening. “I’m about to throw you some of the worst passes of your life, and you’re gonna work on shooting without taking too much time to adjust the ball.”

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, but her feet were already carrying her toward the court.

Before they began, Azzi paused and looked at Paige. “I miss you,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of everything left unsaid between them.

Paige’s expression softened, and a small, genuine smile spread across her face. “I miss you too, Az,” she replied, her tone equally tender. Then, without missing a beat, she threw Azzi an intentionally terrible pass, the ball veering off to the side.

Azzi barely managed to catch it, quickly gathering herself for the shot, but the ball clanged off the rim.

Paige smirked. “Not bad. Now do it faster and try making it next time.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. They fell into an easy rhythm after that, Paige throwing increasingly awful passes, and Azzi working to shoot without hesitation. Laughter echoed through the gym when the passes were too bad to catch, blending with the rhythmic sound of the ball hitting the hardwood.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like they were back in sync—no words needed, just the game and each other.

The rhythm they had fallen into was effortless, the sound of Azzi’s playlist flowing through the speakers now as they worked on her shot. Laughter occasionally filled the gym, the tension from the past weeks melting away with every pass and shot.

That is, until the music cut off, replaced by the ring of an incoming call.

Azzi, mid-dribble, glanced toward her phone sitting on the floor. “Can you check who it is?” she asked Paige, who was closer.

Paige hesitated for a moment before walking over. She glanced at the screen, the name flashing boldly. Her jaw tightened ever so slightly, but it was enough for Azzi to notice. Paige cleared her throat. “Somebody named Elle,�� she said, her tone a little too neutral.

Azzi didn’t miss the shift in Paige’s posture or the way her eyes flicked away from the phone. She didn’t need Paige to say anything; she could see the wheels turning in her head.

“It’s not what you think, Paige,” Azzi said, her voice firm but gentle.

Paige shook her head, brushing it off with a forced smile. “No, Azzi, you don’t have to explain—”

“Paige,” Azzi cut her off, stepping closer. “She’s my partner for a project. That’s it.”

Paige looked down, her fingers grazing the edge of her shirt. “It’s fine if it was something else you know,” she said softly, though the words felt hollow even to her.

“No, it isn’t,” Azzi said firmly, her voice leaving no room for doubt in Paige’s mind. “It isn’t fine because I don’t want anybody else. I only want you, Paige. I’ve told you that, and I mean it.”

Paige’s shoulders sagged slightly, guilt flashing across her face. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I know it’s not really my place.”

Azzi stepped even closer, her eyes searching Paige’s. “It is your place,” she said, her voice softer now. “So you don’t need to apologize.”

Paige glanced at her, caught in the sincerity of Azzi’s gaze. The tension in the air softened, the weight between them shifting back into something warm and steady.

“Okay,” Paige finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azzi nodded, giving her a small smile. “Good. Now come back over here—I’m not done getting used to these terrible passes.”

Paige chuckled despite herself, picking up the ball. And just like that, they found their rhythm again, though the words exchanged lingered, a quiet reassurance binding them closer.

After finishing up in the gym, both of them grabbed their things and headed out. Paige made her way toward her car, expecting Azzi to follow. But when she glanced over her shoulder, she noticed Azzi strolling casually along the sidewalk.

Paige frowned, stopping in her tracks. “What are you doing?” she called out.

Azzi glanced back with a small shrug. “I didn’t drive.”

Paige’s eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of offense and exasperation flashing across her face. “You thought I was going to let you walk?” she said, her tone incredulous.

Azzi chuckled but didn’t respond, her smile widening as Paige simply muttered, “Unbelievable.”

With a grin, Azzi turned and walked toward Paige’s car. Paige muttered under her breath the whole time, just loud enough for Azzi to hear. “She’s gotta be crazy. Can’t believe she thought I’d let her walk. Who does she think I am?”

When they reached the car, Paige yanked open the passenger door, motioning for Azzi to get in. Azzi stepped in with a laugh, and Paige shut the door with more force than necessary, her irritation over something so small almost comical.

By the time Paige slid into the driver’s seat, Azzi was grinning at her. “I miss how dramatic you are,” she teased, still laughing softly.

Paige shot her a glare as she started the car. “You give me a fucking headache Azzi,” she said, but there was no bite to her words.

When they arrived back at the dorms, Paige’s suite came up first. She slowed to a stop, slinging her bag over her shoulder and turning toward Azzi.

“Night,” Paige said, already halfway to the door.

Azzi nodded but didn’t keep walking. “Paige,” she called, her voice stopping Paige in her tracks.

Paige turned back, raising an eyebrow slightly, her curiosity piqued. “Yeah?”

Azzi hesitated for a moment, then smiled softly. “I’ve been thinking…can we maybe talk tomorrow?”

Paige blinked, her confusion evident, but she nodded. “Yeah… of course,” she said, her tone cautious.

Azzi’s smile widened a little , though she didn’t offer any explanation. “I’ll text you,” she said simply.

Paige gave her a small smile in return. “Okay. Goodnight, Az.”

“Goodnight, P,” Azzi replied, her voice quiet but warm as she turned to walk toward her own suite.

Paige lingered for a second, watching Azzi’s retreating figure, her mind swirling with questions. Finally, she shook her head and headed inside, her thoughts lingering on the way Azzi had looked at her just now.

…

The next day, around 1 PM, Paige’s phone buzzed with a text from Azzi.

💗: You hungry? Let’s grab some food

Paige smiled at the message, typing a quick reply.

P 💗: Yeah that works for me

It didn’t take long for Azzi to reply.

💗: We’re taking my car.

Paige frowned slightly, shooting back a quick question mark.

P 💗: ?

The response came almost immediately.

💗: I almost threw up in your car yesterday when Steve Lacy came on

Paige let out a loud laugh, immediately understanding what Azzi was referring to as she had her own struggles being in there sometimes. She shook her head, typing back with a smirk.

P 💗: That’s dramatic, even for you

Azzi’s reply was short but effective.

💗: Not taking any chances

Still chuckling, Paige grabbed her things, her mood lighter than it had been in days. Azzi always had a way of pulling her out of her head, even with something as simple as sending a few texts.

They sat down at a corner table, the comforting hum of the restaurant around them as they ate their Chipotle bowls. The familiar, easy chatter filled the space between them yesterday being what they needed to return to the natural rhythm of their friendship, the laughter, and the simple joy of each other's company.

But, as the conversation slowly died down, Azzi looked at Paige, her expression shifting slightly.

“I want us to start over,” Azzi said quietly, her voice soft but serious.

Paige blinked, furrowing her brow. “Start over? What do you mean?”

Azzi took a deep breath, clearly trying to find the right words. “I want us to try this again, but—” she paused, trying to make sure she found the right words. “I want us to do it the right way this time.”

Paige tilted her head, her confusion evident but her tone gentle with Azzi like always. “Azzi, what are you saying?”

Azzi’s gaze was unwavering as she leaned forward slightly, the space between them feeling more intimate. “I want us to date, Paige,” she said, her voice steady.

Paige’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before a soft, teasing smile tugged at her lips. “So... you want to be my girlfriend now?”

Azzi hesitated, her fingers tapping gently against the edge of the table. “No…at least not yet,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “I want us to go on dates and test the waters. We did things the wrong way, and I want to fix it.”

Paige’s eyes softened as a slow smile began to form on her lips. She leaned forward slightly, clearly proud of Azzi. “Tell me more about it.”

Azzi smiled at the shift in Paige’s expression, the spark of curiosity now in her eyes. “We can go on dates,” Azzi continued, her voice steady as she outlined her plan she thought a lot about. “But I’m not going to let you kiss me until we have a few dates. And we’re not going to have sex for a while, or we’re going to at least try really hard not to. I want us to get to know each other as two people dating, not just best friends who happen to be doing this.”

Paige nodded, as she listened to her. She hadn’t expected Azzi to say something like this when she asked her to lunch today, but it made sense for her. It was a different approach, one that felt like it had the potential to be something more controlled. Something more grounded. Which is exactly what Azzi needed.

“So, where’s this coming from?” Paige asked, her voice low with curiosity but also a touch of tenderness. “I thought you were—”

Azzi cut her off, her gaze soft but unwavering. “Despite what you think, Paige,” she said quietly, “I’m in love with you. These past few weeks have done nothing but show me that. I’m still scared as hell, but I want to at least try.”

Paige swallowed, her heart beating a little faster at the sincerity in Azzi’s voice. She really hadn’t expected this, she expected Azzi to try to mend their friendship, try to get back to their usual routine of hanging out. But the more Paige thought about it she understood. Azzi was always so detailed and plan oriented. She always needed steps and checkpoints to ease her mind, to let her see the progress she was making.

“I’m not asking for anything,” Azzi continued, her voice a little shaky now that Paige hadn’t said much. “I just want to start fresh. I want us to really try.”

Paige leaned back slightly, her arms folded across her chest as she processed Azzi’s words. The weight of everything that had been said, everything that had been left unsaid, hung heavily in the air. She couldn’t help but hesitate, uncertainty creeping in despite the hope in her chest.

“How do I know you’re not just going to change your mind again?” Paige asked, her voice quiet. She wanted to believe Azzi, wanted to dive into this with her, but it was hard to shake that lingering fear of being hurt again.

Azzi didn’t flinch at the question. She just looked at Paige, with a calmness that her voice conveyed when she answered. “You don’t,” she said simply. “That’s the thing I had to get over. We don’t really know what’s going to happen. That’s been my fear this whole time. Not knowing. Not being in control of it. But we never know what’s going to happen at any point in life so.”

Paige’s gaze softened, and she nodded slowly, taking in what Azzi was saying. But Azzi wasn’t done, and she shifted slightly, her hands in her lap as she continued.

“I was talking to my mom the other day,” Azzi began, her voice quieter now, but still with a hint of vulnerability. “And she tried to make me laugh by asking who shat in my breakfast. But honestly, it just made me cry more than anything.”

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing exactly how Katie could be. “Figures,” she said with a soft smile, her heart lifting slightly at the mention of Azzi’s mom.

Azzi smiled too, but the smile was fleeting, and the seriousness returned quickly. “Yeah. But... I told her everything that’s been going on. All of it. How I feel about you. About us.” She paused, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. “Some parts of the story shocked her, honestly. I thought she was going to yell at me, but she didn’t. She just listened.”

Paige’s eyes widened a little, a surprise settling in her chest. She hadn’t expected that. For Azzi to talk to her mom about them already? It was a huge step. It made her heart skip a little—an odd mix of pride and tenderness swelling inside her knowing Azzi had come out to her mom.

“How... how did it go?” Paige asked softly, unsure of how to phrase the question but needing to know. She could sense how much this conversation had meant to Azzi.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. “It was fine. Perfectly fine, actually,” she said, her voice steady now. “I thought it was going to be hard, but... she already kind of knew. I mean, she’s not blind. She said she could tell something was going on, especially with how much time you spend at our place whenever we’re on break. She thought it was pretty obvious.”

Paige blinked in surprise. She hadn’t thought Katie would pick up on that. “Really?”

Azzi nodded, her gaze soft but thoughtful. “Yeah. She’s always been good at reading me, even when I’m not saying anything. We were talking for a while after I explained everything... she said something that kinda struck a nerve.” Azzi’s voice lowered again, a little more humor to it. “She was explaining some stupid metaphor that I could never understand, and she said life is all about taking chances. Usually, the best ones—the ones that really matter—are the ones that scare us the most.”

Azzi’s eyes met Paige’s, and there was something raw, something real, in the way she looked at her. “And you scare the hell out of me, Paige,” she said quietly, her words filled with sincerity. “So that’s exactly why I can’t just let us pass by. I can’t keep living in the ‘what ifs.’ I’ve been too afraid, and I’m tired of being afraid.”

Finally, Paige let out a deep breath and reached across the table, her hand finding Azzi’s with a gentle squeeze. “I’m scared too,” Paige admitted softly.

Azzi’s eyes softened, and she squeezed Paige’s hand in return, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not asking for anything more than what I said. I just want to try, Paige. I want us to take it slow, to get to know each other again and see where it goes.”

Paige’s smile was small but genuine, her heart fluttering at the thought of what could be. “Okay. We’ll try,” she said, the words feeling right. “We’ll take it slow.”

Azzi’s smile mirrored hers, though it was still laced with vulnerability.

…

This is how, a few days later, Paige and Azzi were on their first date.

Azzi had initially tried to take the reins, attempting to plan every detail, but Paige quickly vetoed the idea, claiming she’d been waiting for months to make this happen. Azzi didn’t even try to argue with that logic.

Now, they were on their way to a mystery destination Paige refused to disclose, with music filling the car. The ride was easy, lighthearted, and full of laughter—until Azzi reached out and skipped another Steve Lacy song.

Paige couldn’t help but laugh, glancing over at her. “What? Are we never listening to the album again?”

Azzi shot her a glare but couldn’t entirely hide the amused glint in her eyes. “Not for a long time, we’re not,” she retorted firmly, her voice dripping with mocking distress.

Paige only chuckled as they pulled into a parking lot. Azzi’s curiosity grew as she turned her attention ahead, her brow furrowing slightly until recognition dawned. Her lips curved into a wide grin.

“You brought me to the fair?” she asked, her voice tinged with excitement.

Paige glanced at her, her own smile soft but proud. “Yeah. Dinner��s boring,” she said simply, shrugging as if it was the most obvious decision in the world.

Azzi laughed, her eyes sparkling as she shook her head. “Of course you’d think that.”

Paige leaned back in her seat, looking out at the glowing lights of the fairground. “Come on, big head,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

…

Their date was going amazingly. Azzi, naturally, made Paige get her a funnel cake, ignoring Paige’s protests as she tore off a piece and practically forced it into Paige’s mouth. Paige grumbled but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips.

As the night went on, it became obvious that Paige was annoyingly good at everything. Every time Azzi swore Paige was about to lose a game, Paige proved her wrong. Neither of them wanted any of the prizes, so Paige made a habit of giving them away, handing stuffed animals and trinkets to random kids. The two of them would watch as the kids ran off, bouncing with excitement, leaving Azzi shaking her head at how effortlessly charming Paige could be with all ages.

Now, they were strolling through the fair, Paige’s arm casually draped over Azzi’s shoulder while Azzi leaned into her side, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them like the glowing lights of the fairground. But their quiet bubble burst when a small fan recognized Paige.

The fan approached cautiously, smiling nervously. “Hey, Paige, can I get a quick picture?”

Paige offered a warm smile. “Of course.”

After the fan snapped a picture with Paige, they hesitated before turning to Azzi. “Um, can I get one with you too Azzi?”

Azzi blinked in surprise before smiling and nodding. “Sure.”

Once the pictures were taken and the fan left with a cheerful wave, Paige’s attention shifted, her eyes catching sight of something in the distance. “Oh my god,” she muttered, her face lighting up as she grabbed Azzi’s hand.

“What?” Azzi asked, laughing at Paige’s sudden enthusiasm.

Paige didn’t answer, pulling her toward the basketball booth, where a massive Olaf stuffed animal sat on display. “It’s too good to be true,” she said, practically bouncing with excitement.

When they reached the booth, Paige handed the worker some tickets. He explained the rules, telling her she needed to make three out of five shots to win. Paige nodded and stepped up to the line drawn on the concrete.

But the worker held up a hand. “Nah, I know who you are. You gotta scoot back,” he said with a grin.

Paige laughed, stepping back as Azzi chuckled beside her. “Uh oh, the pressures on now,” Azzi teased.

Paige made the first four shots with ridiculous ease, defying the odds of the notoriously rigged carnival game. As she took her time with each shot a small crowd had gathered to watch her, but Paige was unfazed.

The worker let her take the fifth shot just for fun, even though she’d already won. Azzi, standing to the side, couldn’t resist teasing her. “You’re such a show-off,” she said, crossing her arms with a smirk.

Paige, knowing full well Azzi secretly loved it, grinned as she lined up the last shot. Without breaking eye contact with Azzi, she released the ball. The ball going in.

Azzi rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a laugh. “You’re irritating.”

Paige strolled over to the worker, who handed her the massive Olaf. Without hesitation, Paige turned and placed it into Azzi’s arms.

“This one’s yours,” Paige said with a confident grin.

Azzi looked down at the stuffed Olaf and then back at Paige, her expression softening. “You’re cute, you know that?”

Paige just smiled at her, as she felt a tap on her lower back seeing a little girl with a huge smile on her face.

After Paige and Azzi finished taking pictures with a few fans who had crowded around to watch Paige play the game, she and Azzi resumed walking through the fairground, their steps in sync. Paige’s arm once again draped casually over Azzi’s shoulder, the familiar, comforting ease of their connection returning.

They walked in silence for a few moments, but the air between them was full of understanding. They didn’t need to fill every moment with words—just the presence of each other was enough.

When they reached the car, Paige opened the door for Azzi like always. Azzi smiled, appreciating the gesture every time Paige does it, before sliding into the passenger seat. Paige walked around the front of the car, slipping into the driver’s side. She took a moment to glance over at Azzi, who was still holding the Olaf stuffie, her eyes soft but smiling.

Paige gave a small smirk as she started the engine, teasing, “You’re actually keeping it, huh?”

Azzi rolled her eyes playfully, adjusting the stuffed Olaf on her lap. “Yes, it’s Olaf. I’m keeping it.”

Paige laughed, shaking her head as she pulled out of the parking lot. The soft hum of the engine filled the silence between them as they drove off towards UConn, the glow of the fair behind them, leaving only the warmth of the moment to hold onto.

…

Long after Paige had “dropped” Azzi off following their first date, she found herself wandering into the gym. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but something about the court always drew her in. Spotting Azzi on the court dribbling, Paige couldn’t help but chuckle softly to herself.

Azzi noticed her almost immediately, stopping mid-dribble with a smile. “What are you doing here?”

Paige smirked, walking further onto the court. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Azzi shrugged as Paige closed the distance, casually swatting the ball out of her hand. Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Ah, there’s my annoying best friend.”

Paige laughed along, saying. “Ahh, so I’m ‘best friend Paige’ right now, huh?”

Azzi nodded, still grinning.

Paige raised an eyebrow, tilting her head dramatically. “Okay then, tell me something. I heard you went on a date tonight.”

Azzi chuckled at Paige’s antics, her laughter light and easy. “I did.”

Paige dribbled the ball a few times, casually lining up a close-range shot. “How was it?”

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Ehh I was a little nervous at first, but I actually loved it.”

Paige glanced at her with a playful smirk. “Nervous? Why were you nervous?”

Azzi’s gaze softened as she shrugged, her voice quieter. “You know why.”

Paige arched an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “Humor me.”

Instead of answering directly, Azzi pivoted the conversation. “I went on some dates when we weren’t talking, like you suggested.”

Paige paused mid-dribble, her curiosity piqued. “You did?”

Azzi nodded, fidgeting with her hands. “Yeah... with girls.”

Paige hummed at this as she resumed dribbling, her voice casual but interested. “How were they?”

Azzi shrugged, her expression thoughtful. “They were okay. It’s not like I was trying to figure out feelings for them... more so to figure out myself.”

Paige nodded, her gaze softening with a soft smile. “And?”

Azzi smiled faintly, her tone more serious now. “They helped. The conversation with my mom I was telling you about? A whole lot easier after that.”

Paige paused her dribbling to smile at Azzi, her voice full of warmth. “I’m proud of you, Az.”

Azzi’s lips curled into a small, grateful smile, the sincerity of Paige’s words lingering in the air.

Azzi met Paige’s gaze, her tone playful yet sincere. “There’s a little more attention that comes with going on a date with Connecticut’s version of Jesus though.”

Paige burst out laughing, tossing the ball softly at Azzi, who caught it with a grin.

Azzi continued, her voice shifting to something more serious. “I was nervous at first because I knew people would recognize us—mostly you. It’s a lot of extra attention.”

Paige nodded, her grin slowly growing as she listened.

Azzi tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “What? Why are you smiling like that?”

Paige leaned casually against the wall, her grin turning a bit smug. “You know I picked the fair on purpose, right?”

Azzi’s brows furrowed. “No...”

Paige smirked, folding her arms. “It’s far enough from campus that we wouldn’t be recognized as much, but it’s also a Thursday, which means there weren’t going to be a lot of teenagers or people our age there. Just a bunch of kids with their parents or older people. People our age would usually go on Fridays or Saturdays.”

Azzi blinked, processing the thoughtfulness behind Paige’s planning.

Paige stepped closer, her voice softening. “I picked today because I knew anyone who approached us would either be a super-excited kid or an old-school basketball fan who wouldn’t care why it was just the two of us there together. I wanted it to be... easier for you.”

Azzi was stunned, her lips parting slightly as she stared at Paige. “You really thought that far ahead?”

Paige shrugged with a casual air, though her gaze was warm. “I know you, Az. I know how hard this is for you.”

Azzi laughed, her tone light again as she tried to hide how much Paige’s words meant to her. “If you knew what I was struggling with the whole time, why’d you let me make it seem like basketball was the only thing stopping me?”

Paige’s smile softened, her voice dropping just enough to convey her sincerity. “Because I needed to give you time. It’s not a realization someone else can process for you.”

The air between them shifted as Paige leaned casually against the wall, her height slightly towering over Azzi with the way they were standing. The space between them grew smaller without either of them noticing.

Azzi tilted her head up to look at Paige, her expression soft. “I miss your eyes,” she said quietly, almost as if the words slipped out without her permission.

Paige chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. “That’s always the first thing you say to me.” Her grin widened, teasing but fond.

Azzi didn’t bother denying it, her gaze unwavering. The weight of her words lingered in the air, pulling them closer in a way that had nothing to do with proximity.

After a moment, Azzi whispered, her tone playful but with a hint of nervousness, “I’m not letting you kiss me.”

Paige’s toothy grin grew, her confidence shining through. “That’s fine.” Her voice was low, carrying just enough to make Azzi’s breath hitch.

But Paige didn’t move away. She stayed close, her presence overwhelming yet comforting, as she just took in Azzi standing in front of her.

Azzi didn’t respond, her lips quirking up just slightly. Instead, she shook her head with a quiet laugh, looking away but refusing to step back.

Paige finally stepped back, breaking the tension with a soft laugh. The sound lingered in the air, as she picked up a basketball and started dribbling casually.

Azzi rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag muttering, “I’m leaving.”

Paige’s laugh grew louder as she called after her, “See you later, princess!”

Azzi didn’t stop or turn around, but a faint smile spread across her face. She lifted her hand and stuck her middle finger up in response, a playful gesture that made Paige laugh even harder as Azzi walked out of the gym.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

185 notes · View notes

doiliedaze · 2 days ago

Text

Breathe in, Breathe out

Domestic! Sevika x reader

Warnings: suffocation training ☺️↕️ size kink kinda, pussy slapping, think that’s it!!

Genre: smut

───────┈ · ·

A/N: when I tell y’all I got myself a little flustered cause I need her so bad🙏🏿 reader is a bored bimbo housewife 🫶🏿

───────┈ · ·

You love trying new things, so when you’re cooped up in the house and Vika isn’t there you do everything! You cooked, re-organize, touch up your nails, have a fashion shoe for the cat, imagine Sevika fucking the shit outta you.

You being you, you love pushing your limits. You try to handle everything she gives you but damn near tap out everytime she choked you so tonight you’re gonna practice till it’s perfect.

When Sev arrives home, you do your usual greetings, kissing by the door, showing off that you’re wearing just her shirt and talking her head off as you follow her around the cozy apartment.

Watching her shower was enough to get you wet but it wasn’t about that tonight. She knows your stares and she can always read what’s going on in that little brain of yours, “what’s my girl thinkin’ about mhm?” She says softly as she steps out the shower.

“Nothing Vika” you whisper as you play with your ring.

Her naked form walks over and places you on the sink counter. Her buff arms on either side of you. “You okay baby?” Sevika’s eyes flicker with concern. You rub her face, “I’m fine I just…Sev can you build my tolerance?”

Embarrassed and not wanting to explain yourself you play with the plush of your thighs. Heat seeping into your face and you’re glad she can’t see it.

Her hand tilts your chin and her eyes tell you to continue talking.

“Y’know how whenever you choke me I can never handle it? Well I want to so I thought maybe if you like trained me I could handle it!”

She snorts at your explanation causing a whine to come from your lips.

“You’re so dramatic, how long did it take you to muster up the courage to ask?”

“Longer than I’d like to admit…”

To reassure you, Sevika kisses you softly. Y’all lips moving in sync, and she pries your legs open. Instinctively you take off your shirt and press yourself against her.

She tries to pull away from your lips, eager to keep her tongue down your throat you bite her lip hard causing a shaky groan to spill out the taller woman’s throat.

Your clit throbs in want so you move your hand off her bicep to touch yourself when she grabs your hand. “Not tonight.” You pout at this but you listen.

Sevika let’s go of your hand trusting her wife to obey her command. Her metal hand wrapping around your throat and her eyes asking if this is okay and you nod.

The cool metal starts to add pressure around your neck causing you to sit up some. You close your eyes and steady your mind as you’re already getting overstimulated. To ease you Sevika leans back in and kisses you.

You spread your legs further for her, in the process knocking things over. Your wet cunt presented for your beautiful wife. She slaps it hard causing a jolt in your hips and a moan to escape.

Her grip on your neck has tightened ten fold and you’re feeling pressure that’s slightly uncomfortable but beyond pleasurable. She’s splitting you open in a way. She plunges two thick fingers into your eager pussy, and tongues you till drool trickles down your chin seeping into the valley of your breast.

Her eyes evaluate if you can handle more and before she can pull away and ask you nod as much as you can.

With that she applies more pressure in her grip around your neck, you scratch at her bicep, digging in deep to drawl a little blood. A weak moan came from you woman motivating you to continue. Your free hand travels down her body and you strain yourself to play with her neglected clit. It is protruding and pretty, always wet for you.

You scoot closer causing her fingers to go deeper into you just so you can slip your fingers into her fat cunt. Her grip and movements stagger as she shakes, she’s a quick to cum when you touch her.

You try to build another orgasm in her as you feel her pussy pulsate around you but her fingers pump faster as you shake and arch off the sink and into her. Your orgasm crashes over you and you choke as you try to moan.

Sevika let’s you go and pulls away from your grasp as you both catch your breath.

There’s cum down the both of your legs, chests heaving and saliva everywhere. You look up at her and brokenly say, “round two?”

───────┈ · ·

A/N: this is actually my favorite outta everything I wrote!! Got myself a little hot and bothered lol!! Enjoy lovelies🫶🏿

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout

(Dividers- @dollywons)

#dazeduties #dividers by dollywons #black! reader #sapphic smut #sevsdoilie #sevika smut #sevika x reader #wife Sevika #wife reader #Sevika x black! reader #Sevika would have a fat pussy argue with the wall #scared femme writes

172 notes · View notes

faygosoda · 3 days ago

Note

Angst w hyun-ju? Where reader gets attacked really badly during the special game and hyun-ju couldn't protect reader. Hyun-ju is like really worried because reader is like kinda on the verge of bleeding out and dying

A/N: Oh yeahh my first req!! I hope I did this justice n Im sorry if she comes off as ooc!!

Title: So Much Lost

“Fuck..” you mumbled, hand holding your side as you stumble into one of the beds, tears welling in your eyes.

Stupid games, stupid debt, stupid bob having druggie stabbing you with the fork..

You held back a groan as your knees became weak, left hand bracing yourself on the post of the bed.

You didn’t want to worry the others with this but considering the fact that you were on the verge of passing out and bleeding (which was such a lame way to go), you would have no choice but to tell someone..

Something just always had to go wrong in your life- family abandoning you, forcing their debt on you, a fuck ass love life, and more AND now you have a stab wound.

Great. At least I’m away from the others.. this would just cause more pani-

“(Name)?…. Holy shit-“

Fuckkkk, of course Dae-ho found you.. always the one to search and help those in need.

“Dae-ho listen don’t go and tell-”

“Like hell I won’t!” He runs off as you groan your left hand which wasn’t currently putting pressure on your side slapping your forehead.

Multiple rushed footsteps are heard from god knows where.

“(Name)!”

“Oh my goodness-”

“Everybody move out the way!”

Blah blah lots of talking lots of worry and concern from who knows who..

You didn’t really pay attention to who was saying what besides one voice that belong to the one person you had came to admire the most throughout the days of being here.

“Hyun- Hyun-Ju..”

It was a quiet mumble but able to be heard from her attentive ears.

“I am right here (Name), stay awake for me okay? Who did this to you?”

Her words were shakey along with her hands that came up to sit you up as.. Gi-Hun? Yeah, Gi-hun and some of the others rushed around to find stuff that could possibly help.

“That- uh.. that one guy with the bob who w- was with the purple h- haired dude..”

I groan out, glancing down at the red spot that progressively got bigger, soaking through the fabric of my tracksuits zip up and onto my hand.

“Son of a bitch..” Hyun-Ju mumbled, tears evident in her eyes.

“D- definitely..” I slur, head falling back as my eyes close before a hand comes to my chin, making my eyes re-open.

“No. Keep your eyes open and look at me. Do not go to sleep.” Her hand hold your chin, turning it her way and you can’t help but look at her adoringly, eyes half lidded and a strained smile on your face.

“I.. I can’t- it hurts so much- I’m- I’m sorry I should’ve listened to- to you..” A choked sob comes from you, tears slipping down your face.

“Stop it- (Name), stop don’t apologize please do not- I can’t lose you too!” Hyun-Ju’s words are rushed yet quiet.

‘I can’t lose you too!’ Oh right, Young-Mi.. shot dead after the third game. One of the many people Hyun-Ju has lost besides her family and well.. now you

Your hands move up to hold her cheek and her hand that held your chin as your vision blurred, colored shapes of those who you now considered your friends gathered around the bed you sat up on.

“Young-Mi’s right.. you’re beautiful. I’m sorry I didn’t say so earlier.. you make me nervous. Hyun-Ju, you- you have to make it out for- for me.. please Hyun-Ju.. Don’t let me hold you back.” You spoke quietly, eyes lidded to the point your lashes blocked view of the womans face that had tears falling down her cheeks.

Hyun-Ju nods, face leaning into your touch as she cries, shoulders shaking.

“I promise you I- I will (Name). For- for you.”

You smile, breath slowing down and a meek sound comes from your throat.

The last thing you hear are her sobs which continue to go on for who knows how long.

The only thing that riddles your mind is ‘what would have happened if we met under different circumstances?’

The end!

A/N: Hi guys thanks for reading that oneshot! I hope it was okay n I hope u liked it😇 I #hateangst cuz wdym that bob ho killed us I js wanna chill w my wife😢💔 SORRY THAT ITS SHORT, I WAS LWK BLANKING BUT FOR THE NEXT FF ILL TRY MY BEST TO MAKE IT LONGER!!

Btw pls send in my requests cuz this saved me from boredom💋

#squid game x reader #cho hyunju #cho hyun ju x reader #cho hyun ju #player 120 #player 120 x reader #faygosoda

248 notes · View notes

suguru-getos · 2 days ago

Note

Can we take a moment to talk about how dom coded geto is- like?? *dreamy sigh*

(Need him to dom me fr)

-> cw: overstimulation, oral (f!rec)

“no no no, little girl, not happening.” suguru slaps the plush fat of your ass, smirking when you try to squirm away. he’s been eating you out nonstop. he’s starved, he’s parched. he’s needy, he’s desperate. even though you’re the one beneath him, squirming and whining… he’s the one that needs you more than ever.

“goin’ on trips over and over…” he groans, breaths panting and hot warm touches tingling at your cunt. “making me miss you.” he thrusted his tongue into you, savouring your taste, groaning at it. feeling you clamp around for more. feeling you need more. “such a good girl,” he is pleased by how you let him have his way with you now. your nerves are tired, fried. yet, you wouldn’t complain… suguru’s aftercare is just so condensed with love. how could you complain?

“sugu- gah- hurtin’..” you break down, voice soft & meek, begging as your legs shake again. he is pulling your third orgasm right now. tingling overstimulation aching in your core, reaching your feet, and aching & burning through your swollen bundle of nerves.

he rides it out for you, cooing and crooning, “sshh~ that’s it my little angel. my little one.” he hums, chuckling and thrusting his tongue inside and lapping up at your juices. he groans fervently, like an animal. a needy animal in a rut. he knows he can’t fuck you up, it was a competition between his tongue & his cock & this time, his tongue won.

“i’m done baby,” he coos softly, gently gathering your exhausted self in his arms and cuddling gently. your body is covered in a sheen of sweat, half-lidded and shivering in the bliss of pure ecstasy. “i just missed you so much, couldn’t help it.” he hums, “i just love you so much.”

#geto suguru #jjk #jjk thirst #jjk smut #geto smut #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader thirst

275 notes · View notes

fujoshirat · 2 days ago

Text

Shouto Todoroki proposes with a fucking house (Be careful what you wish for ♡)

It was a Thursday night, chilly November air nipping at your nose as you walked out of the theater with your love. Shouto wanted to watch the new All Might movie, and who were you to say no to a date with your lovely boyfriend?

He seemed to enjoy it, the way his eyes lit up every time he saw his idol appear on screen. A boyish, childlike wonder present every time his eyes sparkled, he was so cute!!—wait a minute, that’s not the point!

The main point comes after this scene: after getting hot chocolate from a food stand with Shouto, you both sat down on a nearby bench. Sipping the much-needed warm drink, you let out a soft sigh.

“Isn’t hot chocolate so delicious, Shou?” Your boyfriend nods, small smile on his face as he watches your cheery expression. The cold brought a faint pink hue to his cheeks, making them rosy. He seemed contempt in the quiet moment, something you were used to with him.

But then, his gaze turned contemplative. Scooting a bit closer to you, he asked, “Can I ask you something?”

You look up at him curiously. “Sure, what’s up?”

His kissable lips pressed together firmly, like he was hesitant to say what was on his mind.

“How… do you feel about marriage?” The question caught you off-guard, and you nearly choked on your hot chocolate. “M-marriage?!?”

He nods shyly, though his expression was serious. “Yes, what do you think about it? I’ve been thinking, and… it’s something I want with you in the future—if you want that, too.” Your heart had melted at his honesty. You and Shouto have been dating for a while now, and sure, you didn’t mind marrying him, but you didn’t expect him to bring it up so casually.

Heart pounding in your chest, you turn your eyes from your drink and face him. Your breath hitches when you see his earnest expression. “Well, I wouldn’t mind marrying you, Shouto. And if we were to get married someday, I don’t want anything super fancy! I’m not into those huge diamond rings and over-the-top proposals, which all seem like a huge waste of money and a silly way to “show” that you love someone.” Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes widen at your statement, processing your words. “You wouldn’t want a ring?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, no, I’d want a ring. Just nothing extravagant, you know? I’d rather have something permanent.” Your boyfriend tilts his head confusedly.

“Permanent? What’s more permanent that a ring?” ‘Good question,’ you thought. Before Shouto brought it up right now, you never really thought about the specifics of marriage. Thinking for a moment, you decide to tease the boy and grin mischievously.

“A house,” you say proudly, half joking-half serious. No way was anyone in their right mind going to propose to you with a house oh how wrong you were babe. “I mean, it’s not something that sits on your finger until you break it or you lose it or you get too fat from aging or childbirth. It’s a place where memories are made, and…” You gently cup his right cheek with your hand, soft smile on your face, “hopefully if we do get married, it will be good memories.”

Shouto stared at you for a few seconds, as if you had just revealed the meaning of life itself. The man had already told you about his rough childhood a few years back, and you had already met his family a while ago. You knew what he feared, and you knew how to comfort him and make everything okay. Nodding slowly, Shouto gently touched the hand that was caressing his cheek. “A house,” he murmured, almost to himself.

You didn’t think of it much then. After all, it was just a silly, offhand comment that would never actually happen…

...right?

You had laughed off your “wish” not even a few minutes after you said it, and continued chatting about the movie and basking in your boyfriend’s company.

But Shouto? Shouto took it to heart. And everyone knows that Pro Hero Shouto Todoroki never does a half-assed job.

That’s why, exactly one year later, on another chilly November night, he drove you into a quiet, fancy neighborhood that you definitely had no business being in.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. You both had just finished a pleasant, fancy dinner in the heart of the city and were driving back to your shared apartment. Perhaps Shouto was just taking a detour to tour the area. Perhaps Fuyumi-san was interested in moving out to a nice neighborhood with her boyfriend? As your mind drifted away in a daydreaming cloud, the black BMW M850i pulled up to the sidewalk and came to a stop. The warm hand caressing your thigh gently squeezed it, and Shouto put the car on park. “My love,” he spoke, voice smooth and low, “Would you like some fresh air?” You quirked a brow curiously but nodded and unbuckled. Your boyfriend came around and opened the door for you, holding your lower back gently as he guided you to the sidewalk.

Curiously, you looked around at the beautiful houses around you in wonder. They were a mix of traditional and modern. It almost reminded you of Shouto’s own household, though these ones were obviously new and had a better, modern architectural design to it.

Intertwining his fingers in his, he looks down at your figure and smiles softly. “This is a new neighborhood that I wanted to show you. It was recently completed in July.” His voice was calm, a soft smile on his face—with a hint of something that you couldn’t identify. Something… deeper.

You tilted your head and looked up at him curiously. “It’s beautiful, love, but, why are we here?”

And then,

Shouto got down on one knee—

a gasp,

and pulled out a small velvet box—

another gasp,

and opened it—

revealing a delicate diamond ring.

It was simple, elegant, and exactly what you had in mind one year ago.

But before you could say anything else, he pulled something else out of his pocket:

A small, silver key.

Your jaw drops, mouth hanging wide open, as small tears prick at your eyes. Shouto smiles softly at your expression, gaze never wavering. “I remembered what you said last year and-”

“Shouto. Himura. Todoroki. You didn’t!”

He chuckles, your knees feeling week as you stared at his amused yet sincere expression.

“I did.” Warm liquid falls down your cheek before you know it, yet all you can focus on is the man in front of you.

“I know that you said you wanted something permanent, and I want to give you something permanent too.” He glances at the house that you both were in front of, and then back at you. “It’ll be a place where we can build a life together, a place where you will always be safe, a home where you will always feel loved.” Your heart cracks even further at the sound of his voice, honest and genuine and vulnerable and raw.

“My love for you is permanent, Y/N, and if you’ll have me, I want to share this with you, forever.”

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to find words. “Shouto, hic are you— sniffle this—this house—” “I wanted you to have both a ring and a house.” Your boyfriend says that with full conviction in his voice, honesty and sincerity evident.

“Will you, L/N, Y/N, marry me?”

You nod furiously and desperately wipe some of your tears,

“Yes! God, yes Shouto!” Your new fiancé wastes no time scrambling up to his feet and sliding the ring on your pretty ring finger. Gently, he pulls you into his arms and tenderly wipes some of your tears.

“You’re sniffle incredible,” you murmur in his chest. Shouto laughs, but he is cut off by the second half of your statement. “And incredibly terrible!” He blinks, confusedly. “What? Why?”

“Shouto!” You chastize him with a huff, using your sleeve to wipe away snot that’s probably gross (Shouto doesn’t think it’s that gross). “Why would you spend 60 million yen on me!?!” (approximately $400,000 in USD)

He blinks again, confused, as if you had said something silly. “I’m a pro hero,” he says cooly, shrugging as if that and the amount of money he spent was no big deal (it really isn’t a big deal to him). “I’ve been saving, and…” Gently, he holds the hand with the ring up to his lips and kisses your knuckles gently, making your knees buckle and your cheeks even rosier.

“You’re worth it, my love. This ring, the house, nothing can compare to how happy and loved you’ve made me.” Tears well up in your eyes once again, threatening to spill over as your heart clenches. “That’s so unfair,” you murmur, voice cracking. Shouto’s lips quirk up into a smug smile, almost like a smirk, showing his blatant amusement.

“What is, darling?”

“Being this perfect,” you mutter, tears streaming down your cheeks again. Shouto laughs and presses a tender kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry, but you deserve everything, Y/N. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that you know it.” His eyes widen when you let out a whiny sob, burying your face into his warm chest. His left hand gently rubs circles on your back as he chuckles. A cool autumn breeze blows by, ruffling your hair. Shouto sees you visibly shiver and strokes your head.

“You must be cold, would you like to go inside?”

He watches your puffy yet beautiful eyes sparkle, and Shouto can’t tell if it is from your tears or happiness. Yet, he understands that the answer is both when you interlace your hand with his and use your free hand to unlock the door to the brand new 60 million yen home with a brand new diamond ring on your finger in the brand new luxury neighborhood with your brand new fiancé and soon to be husband. ♡

199 notes · View notes

jinxificada · 12 hours ago

Text

unfamiliar check

adoptive sister!jinx x adoptive sister!reader

summary: eavesdropping on dad brought an unexpected bonding between sisters.

notes: nsfw ! 1,5k wc, no proofread. again, jinx and reader are not related biologically. not my best work but i stayed up till 4am to finish it…

ཻུ۪۪ ༄࿐༉⁎ ⁺

“jinx.” you whisper-shout, trying to adjust your sight to the darkness of her room as you peek your head inside. she rolled over in her bed, grumbling. “are you awake?”

“what?”

“i heard something from dad’s office.”

she opened her eyes, just enough to see you approaching her and kneeling next to the bed. you were frowning.

“you’re being paranoid,” she dismissed, closing her eyes again. “he must be working.”

“i dunno… i wanna check in on him, come with me,” you insisted, shaking her shoulder softly. “please?”

jinx groaned, “fine.” she complies with an annoyed sigh, pushing herself up off the bed with a quick stretch. “let’s go.”

as you and jinx cautiously tip-toe towards silco’s office, the noises get progressively louder and more obvious. jinx approached first, her breath hitching in surprise as she pressed her ear against the door.

“no way…”

“what? what’s going on?” you urged, only to get smacked in the arm as she shushed you.

another sound emitted from the other side of the door, causing jinx to blush and grin in both amusement and disbelief.

“no fucking—“ “what is it?” you try to push her to press your ear against the door.

“keep it down! you idiot,” she pushed you against the wall, her hand on your mouth. “they’re fucking.”

your eyes widened, an instant blush spreading across your cheeks. sex? your father? it sounded ridiculous, but the faint groans proved her right.

you both squirmed, inching closer to hear better. a particularly loud moan startled you, shying your eyes away from jinx’s as she snickered.

as you listened in closely, you can vividly hear distinct sounds coming from the room; low, guttural groans, moans, pants, creaking, slapping… it felt like your ears were overheating.

“disgusting.” she scrunched up her nose, tugging at your arm as she pulled back. “c’mon.”

she takes your hand and guides your back to her room, commenting on the situation with a lighthearted demeanor. you were way too affected to respond like usual, plopping down on her bed with her.

“‘can’t believe dad was nasty like that,” she continued to laugh, just then looking over at you with a grin. “what’s up with you? i could swear it looked like you enjoyed listening to that.”

“did not.” you huffed, smacking her hand away when she tried to poke you. “it was just… too much, don’t you think so?”

“maybe if you’re a prude.” jinx said, grinning. she leaned back and put her hands behind her head, tilting her head to you, “you sure were invested though. i mean… you’re blushing like a tomato.”

your blush *still* hadn’t faded, and was probably even more prominent now. you tried to think of a response, but your mind was elsewhere.

“that’s not it!” you protested, but jinx only chuckled amusedly.

“eww!” jinx’s laugh rings in your ear as she rolls over the bed, you keep shushing her but she’s having way too much fun. “are you seriously turned on?”

a laugh escapes your lips, sounding embarrassed but infected by her amusement. a light shove on her side starts a playful wrestling fight. the already messy blankets tangle up with your legs, immobilizing you and easing her the win. she effortlessly pinned your hands together over your head with only one of hers, the other suddenly moving down to your lower waist.

“be honest,” she purred, her touch tantalizing and exploring as she lowered to grip your hip. “are you wet?”

the change in the air caught you off guard, your smile wavered noticeably as you try to make sense of the sudden flirtatious tone and the obscenity of her words.

“w-wet? of course not—!” you argued with a weak, slightly trembling voice.

“really? then you don’t mind it if i check?” she smirked.

“g-go ahead, i’m not wet.“ you said, but your voice cracked when jinx’s hand slipped below the waistband of your pajama shorts.

you gasped at the light touch, arching your back involuntarily, consequently pressing yourself against her palm for a quick moment before flinching.

your little reaction didn’t slip past jinx, and she smirked again.

“for someone who ‘isn’t turned on’… you’re getting awfully squirmy.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but when her hand moved down lower, you couldn’t hold back a small moan.

“w-wait, n-“ you tried to speak, but your mind was starting to go blank.

her slender fingers work under your clothes, teasing your throbbing clit with slow circles. you were wet, jinx could feel it. you shut your eyes firmly and bit your lower lip, holding back from grinding against her touch.

your efforts to keep from squirming and moaning were getting more and more difficult.

“look at you,” jinx teased, “so worked up by just a couple minutes of eavesdropping… i’m not even moving that fast.”

her fingers continued their slow, torturous pace, and your body was quickly overheating. you started to fidget, your legs shifting to get some much needed friction, parting them for her.

“jinx, stop—“ you tried to protest, but the syllables were quickly becoming moans and whimpers. your words were laced with arousal even though you were trying to ground yourself. you clearly weren’t doing a good job, soon your body following the pace jinx was setting.

low sighs and curses left your mouth only to be eaten up by jinx, your breaths mingling together for a while now. she kept teasing you, hoping you would break and ask for more.

“god, you’re so sensitive.” she whispered, her voice sultry.

your conflicting feelings were dissolved the second she nipped your lip, hardly enough to make you wince as she pulled it a few inches away. it was almost automatic, the way your tongue stuck out and received hers without a second thought. her tongue was hot like fire as it explored every nook and cranny of your mouth.

your inhibitions lowered so abruptly, in a moment later you were whining for her to touch you properly.

“ya like that, toots?” she hummed, returning to cup your pussy but with a firmer grip, making you exhale harshly. “i can feel how bad you want it.”

“y-yes, i want it.” you broke, squirming under her weight. “please, hurry.”

“hmm…” jinx pushed down your clothes, tugging playfully at your pubic hair and chuckling under her breath when you hissed: “asshole.”

she gathered your moisture, brushing upwards to repeat her movements now against your bare pussy. she entertains herself by changing the pace just when you’re growing used to it, going from light, long strokes to rapid and hard rubbing.

“fuck—!” you almost growled, frowning deeply at her. “stop teasing, jinx.”

she hummed pleasantly at the way you say her name, trying so hard to sound firm despite the wavering voice. her teeth find your throat as she pushed a finger in, you shudder at the new sensation, mewling softly and tilting your head back.

“say my name,” she suddenly pleaded, her breath hot against your skin. you comply, breathlessly repeating her name once, twice. “again~” she giggled, adding a second finger.

her fingers buried inside of you, pumping hard enough to push your whole body. the bed cracked, another reason to blush.

were you two too loud? could your father hear you like you heard him?

you couldn’t bring yourself to care. your sister was fucking you like she’s been wanting to for ages. the thrill of being caught made your head spin.

a soft splashing sound of your fluids echoed in jinx’s room, she moaned with you, smiling contently and making sweet remarks about how well you were taking her and how hot you sounded. you started to tear up at some point, feeling so close.

she was hitting your sweet spot, she had let go of your hands to keep your hips still. now you were free to cling onto her, gripping her hair and pulling her into a bruising kiss.

“m’close,” you cried into her lips, a smile gracing them at your words.

“i know you are,” she said hoarsely, her fingers moving faster. “and it’s all me.”

you can practically feel the pride in her tone, she’s enjoying knowing that she’s the one causing this. her fingers press into you relentlessly, and her hand grips your hip a little harder.

“come on,” she muttered against your ear. “come for me.”

it’s a blur, she has to press her palm on your mouth to shut you up. though her excited chuckles might’ve been equally loud. she keeps fucking you through your high, finalizing with a soft smack on your pussy.

you giggle, too, twitching for a long minute as your body processes the orgasm. she still kisses you, lips, jaw, cheeks, she smooches your face with a happy grin.

she’s looked at you like this before, eyes glowing with admiration, devotion… yearning.

it almost makes you forget the reality of your relationship.

#i hate this lmao deactivating #jinx x reader #jinx #jinx arcane #lesbian #jinx x fem!reader #arcane #jinx smut #jinx x reader smut #arcane jinx #jinx x y/n #jinx x you #jinx league of legends #jinx lol

97 notes · View notes

chxnsgirl · 1 day ago

Text

── .✦ oopsie! ; han jisung

➜ ┊: masterlist ᵎ ✰

» a/n: surprise! i didnt expect to post this either.. but i got the idea to write this while writing han's headcanons (coming soon). i thought it was kinda hot/cute idkjfdkfjhkhdg. i live for shy, subby hannie :3

» cw: sub!han, blowjob, handjob, rimming (m rec), petnames (baby/babe) smut with no plot :p

» wc: 1k

» tag: @bluesungology

smut below the cut - minors gtfo.

it started as a casual makeout session between you and han, the two of you tangled up in bed, exchanging heated kisses and wandering touches. the air grew heavier as his need intensified, soft whines spilling from his lips as his body pressed closer to yours. “baby, please… i’m so hard,” he whimpered, his hips bucking up instinctively, seeking relief.

you couldn’t resist him—not his sweet, breathy voice, nor the way his sparkling, boba-like eyes gazed at you with a mix of desire and pleading. with a gentle smile, you ran your fingers through his hair, offering a comforting stroke before nodding in agreement. his face lit up with relief and anticipation as you began to trail lower.

it wasn’t long before his clothes were discarded, tossed carelessly across the room, leaving him bare beneath you. as you freed him from the last layer of fabric, his cock twitched in response to the cool air brushing against his heated skin.

leaning in close, you placed a soft kiss on his shaft, earning a sharp inhale and a breathy whine from the beautiful boy lying before you. his cock stood proud, flushed a deep shade of pink, with beads of precum glistening at the tip—evidence of just how worked up he already was. the sight was mesmerizing, and you couldn’t help but savor the moment as you prepared to indulge him fully.

deciding not to keep him waiting any longer, you leaned in, your tongue darting out to collect the bead of precum glistening at the tip of his cock. the salty taste lingered on your tongue as you wrapped your lips around his sensitive head, sucking gently. han whimpered at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed as a shudder ran through his body. “o-oh, baby,” he choked out, his brows knitting together as his hips instinctively bucked against your face.

the sound of his moans filled you with a sense of pride, and you relished the power of making him feel so good. after savoring the moment, you let his length slip from your mouth with a wet pop, your lips curling into a soft smile at his needy expression. without missing a beat, you shifted lower, trailing your tongue to his balls. you licked and sucked on them gently, fully aware of how much he loved this—how it never failed to drive him wild. sure enough, his cock throbbed in response, leaking more as it flushed an even deeper shade of pink, bordering on red.

he was teetering on the edge, his need almost palpable. but as your tongue swiped along his balls, his hips jerked, causing your tongue to graze lower against his taint and the delicate skin of his back entrance. the unexpected touch elicited a loud, shocked gasp from him.

your eyes shot up to meet his, your cheeks heating in embarrassment. but the sight before you took your breath away—his face was flushed an even darker shade, his chest heaving from how worked up he was. “t-that…” he started, his voice breathless. you quickly sat up, concern lacing your tone as you began to apologize. “i’m sorry, babe, i didn’t mean to—”

han interrupted you, shaking his head, his voice hurried and shaky. “n-no, it’s fine,” he stammered, his face burning. his next words came out in a soft, almost shy plea. “c-can you… do it again?”

for a moment, he looked as though he wanted to vanish into the mattress, his embarrassment clear. but you’d never make him feel ashamed for something like this. instead, your heart swelled at his vulnerability. you found it endearing, even cute, and your voice softened as you reassured him. “you want me to?” you asked, your tone gentle and encouraging.

han nodded, chewing on the inside of his lip as he avoided your gaze. “please?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. slowly, he parted his legs wider, the silent invitation making your heart skip a beat. without hesitation, you settled back between his thighs.

you leaned down, starting with soft, experimental licks, gauging his reactions and what brought him the most pleasure. each moan that spilled from his lips spurred you on, and as they grew louder, you grew bolder. you nuzzled your face into his most intimate area, letting your tongue explore with deliberate attention. between licks, you paused to look up at him, your voice soft and reassuring. “is this good, hannie?”

his head bobbed furiously, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands gripping the sheets as if his life depended on it. words failed him; the pleasure overwhelmed his senses to the point where all he could do was nod and moan. “fuck…” he muttered breathlessly, his hips grinding instinctively against your face in desperate need for more.

sensing how close he was to the edge, you decided to intensify his pleasure. your hand reached up to wrap around his length, stroking him in time with the rhythm of your tongue. the combination proved devastating. he let out a deep, guttural moan, his back arching off the bed as his body succumbed to the overwhelming sensations. “yes, yes, baby!” he cried, his voice broken by breathy moans that grew more urgent with every passing second. “you’re gonna make me cum… so fucking hard…” each word was punctuated by a desperate thrust into your fist, his hips trembling as he neared his release.

one hand found its way to your head, holding you in place as if to beg you not to stop. your response was a muffled moan, the vibration against his sensitive skin pushing him closer to the edge. you continued with renewed fervor, letting your tongue tease his entrance, even sliding subtly inside. that small action sent him over the edge.

his body shuddered violently, and his hips stuttered as he let go completely. hot ropes of his release painted your hand, his stomach, and even bits landing in your hair. his cries of pleasure echoed through the room, and his chest heaved as the aftershocks coursed through him. he couldn’t remember ever cumming that hard before—so thoroughly undone—and it was all because of you.

as he came down from his high, his eyes fluttered open to find you looking up at him with a soft, affectionate smile. he reached out a trembling hand to brush back a stray strand of hair, and get rid of bits of him lingering in the strands. his voice hoarse but full of gratitude. “thank you, baby… that was… incredible,” he murmured, his cheeks flushed, and his expression awash with love and admiration.

90 notes · View notes

personapeters · 3 days ago

Text

𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

— a jj maybank one shot (?)

✰ none if it was real — it was a dream; it was all just a dream.

rating: sfw — cw: depressing theme, s4 spoiler, graphic

˗ˏˋ listen & read: i know the end by phoebe bridges ˎˊ˗

the human mind is intricate — it’s ability to store, record, replay, create and delete different mediums of life. it’s bittersweet, saving each of your most cherished memories that you could only ever see again in the deepest grooves of your brain, allowing one to revisit them anytime they’d like and subsequently mourn all that will reside there, and only there, forever — childhood scents you’ll never smell again, the feel of loved ones hands you’ll never touch again or see again… unless you close your eyes.

“hey, no, no, it’s okay, it’s—it’s okay. look at me, jj, look at me — you’re gonna be okay. don’t—don’t move, okay? stay with me, you’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna— please, jj, you have to—.”

her own voice sounded miles away, echoing as though she was deeply nestled in the furthest end of a cold, dark, vacant cave, her plea’s consumed by the null void of nothingness, dissipating into no more than just that — nothingness.

“please, you’re okay, hey, you’re—you’re okay, jj, please!”

her screams ripped violently through her throat, burning like fire at her aching vocal cords, ringing relentlessly in her ears. warm blood bubbled through her shaking fingers as she pressed into his waist, painting her nails a deep shade of red.

an unknown force gripped her ankles, yanking her legs from underneath her and throwing her down onto her stomach with a thud, violently dragging her away.

she dug her bloody fingers deep into the ground, desperately clawing and scratching at the sand in an attempt to crawl her way back to him.

“jj! i’m—i’m coming! hold on, please, i’m here!”

his limp, nearly lifeless body became smaller and smaller in the distance as she was pulled further and further away, though she could still see his face so clearly — he was insanely vivid.

“i love you, y/n,” he strained, his dirty blond hair resting over his crystal blue orbs as his head slowly lolled to the side, his pink lips parted as his eyes fluttered shut, a single, shaky exhale escaping his lungs before he fell completely limp.

he was so far, so distant, yet felt so close — so much so that she could have sworn she felt a warmth on her skin as though he released his final breath against her neck.

she didn’t stop struggling against her invisible restraint, not even for a second, kicking and thrashing relentlessly as her sight began to fade, darkness tunneling her vision.

“NO! i love you, JJ!

i-i’m sorry, i’m so sorry…

PLEASE jay! JJ!”

her eyes shot open frantically as her pupils dilated, attempting to collect the dim moonlight streaming through the window. her chest heaved rapidly as beads of sweat collected at her hairline, tears streaming endlessly down her flushed cheeks as violent sobs tore through her trembling lips.

what the hell was that?

was it real?

where is he?

suddenly, a flick was heard and a pool of warm yellow light flooded the space, a previously unnoticed presence shifting beside her underneath the thick duvet.

“y/n?” a familiar voice groaned, and her head instantly snapped in it’s direction, her entire body trembling in the wake of her terror.

it’s him.

“jj!” she choked out, her voice catching in her throat, her mind painfully foggy and vision an intense blur as she flung her arms around his neck. she squeezed him tight, relief flooding her body like rushing water from a broken dam, her frame jolting violently as distressed cries spilled out of her mouth and into his chest.

“woah, hey, what—what’s wrong, baby? what happened?” he croaked out in concern, his voice still heavily laced with sleep, immediately wrapping his arms around her waist in return, rubbing a comforting hand in circles on her back.

“i had a dream you—you died, you were… you were bleeding, so much… there was—there was so much blood, jj, all over you and—and my hands, i felt it. i—i tried to get back to you, i tried… i tried to get to you and i couldn’t… i just couldn’t get to you—.”

“—shhh, it’s okay, y/n… hey — it’s okay,” he reassured, pulling his head back and locking eyes with her, the poor lamp lighting making his blue orbs appear an empty gray, “you’re okay.”

he pulled her close to his chest once more, running his fingers across her forehead to brush some of her disheveled, sweaty hair out of her face, though her skin was so numb, she couldn’t feel it.

“it—it just felt so real, like you were… like you were actually gone… i—i can’t explain it. i’ve never… i’ve never had a dream like that before…. you died right in front of me, and—and there was nothing i could—could do to save you, i couldn’t—”

“—shhh, just breathe, baby — breathe,

breathe,

BREATHE—”

“—BREATHE, JJ!

PLEASE! no, no, NO, PLEASE!

kiara! john b! POPE!”

“hey, hey, focus, baby — focus on me,” he whispered, his voice so soft, so faint, so far, she almost couldn’t hear him, “you’ll be okay… promise. i’m here…. i’m here, just close your eyes.”

close your eyes.

CLOSE YOUR EYES.

she closed her eyes.

“hey, y/n?”

“hm?”

“i love you.”

“take care of the others, okay?”

“what?”

“wake up.”

“wha—? jj, where—where’d you go?”

“y/n, wake up.”

“please, jj, turn the light back on… i—i can’t see, p-please!”

“Y/N!”

“NO… don’t—don’t leave me here! jj, where are you?!”

“wake up! Y/N! please,

wake UP!

Y/N, WAKE UP!”

“wake up, please!” kiara wailed from the edge of the bed, heavy tears pouring from her wide brown eyes, her hands resting on the girls shoulders from where she was vigorously shaking her awake.

y/n’s eyes shot open, her arms instinctively reaching for something to grip as she gasped for air. she quickly sat herself up straight, quickly scanning the entirety of her surroundings with bloodshot eyes.

where is he?

“are—are you okay?!” kiara cried, though she already knew the answer, her lips trembling as she stared intently at her friend, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest.

“jj…” y/n breathed out, her voice cracking as tears spilled out of her already red, raw, sore eyes, “where… where is he?”

“i— what… what do you mean?”

“he’s here,” y/n stammered, her volume getting louder, “where is he, kiara?!”

“y/n, he’s… he’s not…” kiara shook her head to herself, squeezing her eyes shut as she pursed her lips, her heart disintegrating even more than she ever thought humanly possible, “he’s not here.”

“he is, kie, he—he held me, i felt him. he talked to me, told me he loves me… i—i heard him,” y/n sobbed furiously, leaning forward as she jabbed a finger towards herself before pointing it at what was once his side of the bed.

“he was right here — i woke up and he was right… right here, why—why are you lying?! don’t lie, he was here, kiara!”

she had herself fooled for a short lived time — a blissful, almost peaceful, heaven sent time where her mind was too congested with sleep and grief to know any better…

…but the last remaining sliver of her sanity tugged at the nerves in her gut, twisting and pulling harshly until her stomach lurched, tumbling her headfirst back down to earth, crashing back into reality with a bone-shattering impact to the unforgiving ground.

part of her hoped that if she believed long enough, strongly enough, then somehow, as though life was a fairytale, in that cloudy space between an unconscious slumber and hovering reality, jj would step out of her foggy dream bubble —

— and that by some miracle from god, he’d come walking through the bedroom door, his bright, dimpled smile on full display as his ocean eyes glinted with mischief, eager to let everyone know it some elaborate, sick joke and that they had all fallen for it.

but that wasn’t going to happen.

and she knew that.

“you—you were screaming, y/n… in your sleep,” kiara weeped pitifully, tilting her head as she furrowed her brows, “you didn’t… you didn’t just see him… here, did you?”

y/n shook her head slowly as she screwed her eyes shut, covering her face with her hands and crumbling sideways against the mattress, taking a deep, shaky inhale that hardly squeezed through her clenching airway before letting out a glass shattering, gut wrenching, throat tearing, blood curdling scream.

heartache.

sadness.

torment.

despair.

sorrow.

hatred.

misery.

anger.

regret.

pain.

love.

one could hear them all fighting through in the piercing octaves of her cry; every emotion — every. single. one.

all kiara could do was collapse beside her, pulling the girl’s head into her neck and cradling her, allowing their collective tears to merge as their bodies convulsed against one another.

“tell me he was here, kie! tell me you—you saw him, too!” y/n screeched, her breaths short and quick as kiara rubbed softly on her back; she, too, wanted to scream — wanted someone to tell her the exact words y/n was wrongfully hoping for, and to mean it.

“i wish i— i wish i could, baby,” kiara whispered, placing her wet lips against y/n’s temple, knowing there was absolutely nothing she, or anyone, could say — nothing they could do.

no amount of denial was going to bring him back.

sweet jj maybank,

the outer banks’ sunshine boy,

was gone.

“it was just… it was all a dream?”

“it was all a dream.”

117 notes · View notes

323cutie · 2 days ago

Note

aight so boom … im thinking abt stealing a black tank top from any ateez member and wearing it without a bra. and because their asses are fit, the tank top is tight. … and for me personally? i’m big chested with nipple piercings, so you can imagine where im going with this.

yeo, woo, and hwa dont know where to look in fear of cumming untouched if they looked too long. (woo tries to be brave about it, but his resolve crumbles in 30 seconds)

jongho’s blood goes to his dick so fast, now he’s nauseous and nervously giggling. also, i can’t remember if we’ve seen baby bear in a black tank top yet? but if theres anything i know after seeing his arms, i know he would look absolutely delicious.

san is trying his best to be nonchalant and say you look cute in his clothes!! he is shaking from the effort it takes for NOT pounce on you.

mingi is trying to be normal and cool about it too, but you can SEE his hands itching to hold and grab at you. his voice is suddenly deeper than normal and he’s salivating

in all honesty … i think yunho makes an effort to not-so-subtly look down at your cleavage, you actually have to tell him “hey, eyes up here”. not that yunho isnt already cuddly and affectionate, but if you’re wearing his top? he’s finding many more unnecessary reasons to touch you, especially when you’re doing mundane chores together. idk if this makes sense.

joong? he’s stuttering. he can’t focus. are you trying to kill him? he’s a bit better than the rest at pretending like this isn’t affecting him, but you saw the moment his eyes darkened and his jaw slacked. he gives it to you absolutely freak nasty after that.

-braindump nonnie 🍓

nonnie i Need u to know when u first sent this I was staring at my phone in absolute shock at work... u r just so right. jongho being so turned on hes nauseous has me ctfu

wooyoung is trying way too hard to be normal its just so obvious like hes doing too much. chatting ur ear off about any and everything. probably after abt 5 mins of him just yapping away he looks you dead in the eye and is like "Please let me touch you."

san absolutely is bright red and cannot talk for fear of his voice cracking like a teenager. speaking in hand motions and one word answers for the foreseeable future

mingi sinks down to his knees in front of u and Begs you to let him touch you (yes hes drooling.)

yunho lowk doesnt even try to hide it hes shameless as hell. will act clueless tho because hes a freak. he's backhugging you at the kitchen counter as you're cooking and his hands are wandering and youre like hey whats happening and hes like what do u mean im just hugging my precious lovely partner (he is feeling you up)

hongjoong probably sees you and sighsss. he's too used to your antics now. ...he loves the trouble you get into, tho. invites you onto his lap and gives in easily. absolutely pouting at u for being so hot tho

#literally borderline crying over jh leijgkhfkajghfk SOMEONE HELP HIM!!!!!!!#thank u for ur service nonnie... I always love ur braindumps .#🦌 answers #braindump nonnie #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez hongjoong smut #ateez seonghwa smut #ateez yunho smut #ateez yeosang smut #ateez san smut #ateez mingi smut #ateez wooyoung smut #ateez jongho smut

119 notes · View notes

ssentimentals · 2 days ago

Note

Hiii, I don’t really have a prompt that’d I’d like to request, but could I get something with scoups & reader that is scared of bad weather (tornado type weather & such—speaking from experience 🥲)?

I love your writing so much & love reading all your small prompts :)

hiii! tbh i always wanted people to come up here with their own requests, but that never reallly happened as most prefer to pick from already formulated prompts, so you have no idea how happy you made me with this message! 💜thank you for your kind words as well :')

seungcheol + bad weather

when you get a notification on your phone about the upcoming storm, dread settles uncomfortably in your chest. makes it hard to breathe, squeezing your lungs painfully with growing anxiety. clutching your bag, you look up at the sky, noticing how light blue sky slowly starts turning grey. your phone buzzes and you sigh in relief, seeing seungcheol's photo on your screen.

“i got the storm notification,” your boyfriend says instead of greeting. “i’m taking rest of the day off, will work from home. where are you, baby?”

“got the groceries, going home now.” you wince at the way wind picks up. “i’m gonna-“

“can you go inside and wait for me to pick you up?”seungcheol interrupts.

warmth pools at the the pit of your stomach. seungcheol has no problems with any weather conditions, he has no anxiety or panic attacks, doesn't flinch at thundreclaps - it's all you. since he learned this about you, it never fails to make your heart squeeze with affection how he always goes out of his way to ensure your comfort and safety during these moments. “it's a ten minute walk,” you say, shaking your head. “i'll go on my own. be careful, yeah? drive safe.”

“i'll be back home very soon, angel.” seungcheol assures you.

before seungcheol no one ever made you feel so seen regarding this issue. you know that he's going to probably break some rules on his way back home just to get quicker to you and it's enough to make you rush home as well, ignoring the way wind picks up. force of nature is terrifying, especially when you know how devastating it can be; you quickly turn on the lights and shut the curtains as soon as you're inside. with years came not only age but wisdom: you learned how to deal with your fear. any kinds of distractions work the best and until your boyfriend arrives, you busy yourself with the groceries, preparing easy salad just to keep your hands busy.

seungcheol arrives with a loud bang and even louder: “baby, where are you?”. his big eyes are on you the second you appear in the hallway and wide smile spreads on his face: “hi, love.”

you grin, coming up to greet him. “hey, cheollie. thanks for coming over.”

“don't mention it.” seungcheol waves it off like it's not a big deal, when it actually is. he has no idea how much the fact that he took his job home the second he saw storm notification means to you. “you got the groceries?”

it's very domestic for next twenty minutes; seungcheol changes and you two enjoy the salad and tea, when another notification about a possibility of this storm turning into a tornado pops up. it makes your breath hitch, but seungcheol's warm hand on top of yours keeps you grounded. “let’s go to bed, yeah?” he suggests. “we can watch something.”

“but your work?” you ask, frowning. you took this week fully off and didn't have to worry about missing any important meetings. “it’s okay, really, we can-“

“don't worry about it.” seungcheol presses, taking your hand and forcing you to stand up. he hugs you tight, leaving small kiss on your forehead. “i just need you all cuddled up to me, my work can wait, okay? let's clean this up and go upstairs.”

you have no idea how seungcheol knows exactly what to do or say in moments like this. his touch is never too much, his words are never harsh, his gaze is always understanding and not pitying. when first thunder rolls in, he already has you two laying on the bed, covered from head to toe. first thunderclap echoes int he distance at first and then silences you both at the full volume. the sound makes you flinch as you've been slapped - you barely manage to conceal your whine, burying deeper int he comfort of the weighted blanket.

“it's okay, love, it's okay.” seungcheol soothingly rubs your back, pulling you even closer. “i’m here, yeah? do you want headphones?”

headphones help immensely but you were always shy about them at first; it always seemed to be so rude to just put headphones on when another person is around. seungcheol assured you from the start that he has no problems with it, but you always hesitate.

“hey,” he leans in, making sure that you make eye contact. “you come first, remember? you and you well-being always come first. let me get you those headphones.”

you can hear wind whistling outside like it's out there to get you and your heart rate picks up with dread settling as a heavy weight on your shoulders. it’s incredibly frustrating - you wish you never had this fear, wish it didn’t affect you the way it does. at the sound of yet another thunderclap, you squeeze your eyes shut and shiver, wanting to disappear. only when warm body settles next to you and headphones are placed gently on your head, only then you uncurl from your position and open your eyes. seungcheol is watching you with furrowed eyebrows, worry evident in his gaze. he caresses your face lovingly and points at the headphones, handing you your phone. “music,” he says. his thumb brushes below your eyes and he sighs. “i’m here, baby. just listen to the music, yeah?”

you nod. shuffling to cuddle closer, you whisper: “go ahead and work, cheol. it’s alright, i’ll listen to the music anyways.”

“you sure?” seungcheol asks and when you nod, he leans in to leave a sweet kiss on your cheek. “okay. but if it gets worse or you’ll need something, just let me know, okay?”

it’s so, so sweet. the way he angles his body so it’s be easier for you to lay down, how he wraps one arm around you securely and pulls you in, how he ocassionally leaves kisses on top of your head while he works. the safe space he creates for you lets you zone out, steady your breathing. you still flinch at the sounds but fear is not that strong when seungcheol is close to remind you that he is here for you. after some time he puts away his laptop and lets you flop on top of him, covering you two with a blanket.

“i quite like this, actually,” he comments, smiling.

“which part? me crushing you with my weight or me having a stupid fear?” you ask, aiming for a joke but falling flat.

“the part where we get to cuddle and i let you know that no fear is stupid and that holding you makes me incredibly happy.” he looks at you, eyes full of tenderness. “i’m happy to be here, right now. happy that you’re letting me do this.”

your throat feels too tight. before you can say something stupid like “i love you” and confess first, seungcheol adds: “can we do this more often?”

you don’t trust you voice not to crack if you speak, so you nod. seungcheol beams at this and leans in to kiss you. “awesome. now let’s nap for a bit.”

napping is definitely easier than admitting your feelings or facing the raging storm outside. you nod again and close your eyes, breathing in. you’re fast asleep in seconds and don’t feel small kiss on top of your head or quiet “i love you” spoken in the secrecy of the night.

a/n: so. if it wasn't very obvious, i know zero about storms/tornados so i'm sorry if this ended up being very unrealistic. hopefully you liked it :/ - nini

you can find my other writings for seventeen HERE

107 notes · View notes

farfromstrange · 3 days ago

Text

Pink Eye | Matt Murdock x Reader

Matt Murdock Masterlist

Summary: You start the new year with a bad case of conjunctivitis and a cold. As annoyed as you are about it, fortunately for you, you have a very doting boyfriend to take care of you.

Warnings: Cursing, sickness, fluff.

WC: 1.2k

A/n: This is totally self-indulgent, and my first fic after a month (or so)! Don't worry, you're still getting those other Fictober prompts, this is just something that came to my mind yesterday and I had to write it. I wish I had a Matt Murdock to take care of me, so I wrote this. I hope I'm not too rusty.

Read Me On AO3!

The cold compress seeps into the swollen skin of your eyelids, though it offers only a small reprieve from the ache and itchiness that make you want to claw your eyes out like a feral cat under attack.

Tissues lay strewn around the coffee table, each one soaked in tears and whatever else came out when you wiped them dry. The apartment reminds you more of the set of a bad chick-flick rather than a home. Most of the time it resembles a crime scene or a poorly supplied hospital when your risk-friendly boyfriend decides he just has to get himself into another fight for the greater good, but this New Year’s, the only casualty that came out of the holidays is you—defeated by your own immune system.

You haven’t been properly sick in a year. For 366 days, you’ve been free of any viral or bacterial infections, and the one time you decide to have dinner with your family you end up with a nasty infection: conjunctivitis. Yes, you started the new year with fucking pink eye and a cold, and now you’re stuck at home for your last few days off work, feeling miserably sorry for yourself.

“Here,” Matt appears in your one functioning line of sight with a bowl of soup in hand, “You need to eat something.”

“Thank you,” you say through a congested nose, and he can’t help but smile at how adorable that sounds.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like I want to put a finger into my eye and scratch it out.”

He raises his eyebrows. “So, not good?”

You shake your head. “I’m annoyed. And in pain. And I can’t fucking breathe!” As if to underline your frustration, your lungs constrict and you cough up a not-so-delicious ball of phlegm.

Matt’s hand instantly moves to your back, rubbing gentle circles until the oxygen returns to where it needs to be. Your breathing becomes rapid before it slows down again, and you swallow.

“Fuck me,” you mumble.

“When you’re feeling better,” he retorts almost cheekily, but the joke doesn’t get much of a response. He knows how miserable you are. He can hear it in the way you breathe, your elevated heartbeat, and the pulsing of the skin around the infected eye. You wear your discomfort on your very sleeves. He doesn’t want to imagine what it feels like for you.

Instead of joking any more, Matt gently removes the compress from your eye. “Let me get you a new one,” he offers. Your first instinct is to cover up. It baffles him; you haven’t hidden from him in a very long time.

Matt takes your hand and places it back down in your lap, a worried frown creasing his forehead. “Don’t do that.”

“I look like I got into a fight,” you say.

At that, he reaches out, fingers gently brushing just above your brow, down your temple, and over the apple of your cheek. He can feel the heat radiating from your skin, the inflammation that’s causing your eye to swell, but the picture his fingertips paint is a stark contrast to your own description.

“No, you don’t,” he says. And Matt knows better than anyone what one might look like after a fight.

His touch is so gentle, far away from where you’re hurting but close enough to feel his need to fix you. To heal you. To take your pain away and make it his own just so you wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. Your heart flutters like a newborn butterfly. You look into his hazel eyes, how soft they are, and it makes you melt. If you could only see yourself the way he sees you... The way he loves you seems like a gift from God himself.

His touch disappears, and you bite back a pathetic whimper. “Be right back,” he says.

You watch as he rises to his feet and heads back to the kitchen, grabbing another cool compress from the fridge before returning to your side.

“There you go.” He places it against your eye and holds it there. “So you can eat.”

You want to say, ‘You’re doing too much’, but then you realize that you’re with the kind of man who would shoulder the world for you even when he’s already drowning to make sure life is just a little easier for you. And while that feels like entirely too much, more than you deserve, you can’t find it in yourself to tell him to stop. Not that he would do so, anyway.

Every bone in your body aches, but the pain blurs in comparison to what he makes you feel.

You take the bowl of soup he prepared and dig in. It’s your favorite, yet scarcely seasoned to not irritate your throat any further. When your stomach is finally full and he’s satisfied, he reaches for the bottle of eyedrops standing tall amongst the graveyard of tissues. He knows to think about everything when you can’t.

“Lean back,” he instructs softly.

“I don’t want you to get sick,” you protest.

“I won’t. I know you hate doing this yourself. Now lean back.”

He’s even more stubborn when you’re sick, but only because you’re stubborn, too. You don’t protest further, simply leaning your head back to give him better access.

Matt gently searches for your lower lid with his fingers, pulling it back ever so gently before squeezing the first drop in. Then, he moves on to the second eye. Your eyes instinctively squeeze shut at the sudden intrusion. It burns. Will it ever stop, you wonder?

“I’m sorry,” he wipes away any excess tears threatening to escape, “it’ll get better in a second.”

You huff a breath of disapproval, but not at his words. “I’m never visiting my family again unless they give me a detailed list of who’s sick,” you say.

Matt stutters for a moment, then bursts out laughing.

“I’m serious! Small children are little Petri dishes, carrying viruses and bacteria that continue to mutate into God knows what. Petri dishes, Matthew!”

You sound so beside yourself, he can’t help himself. He adds the used tissue to the coffee table pile and pulls you into his arms, his laugh rumbling against the top of your head as he presses his lips against your heated scalp. “This is New York, sweetheart,” he says, “the entire city is a Petri dish.”

“And I will avoid it like the plague if I have to.”

He chuckles. “Okay.” A pause, and then, “You’re so much moodier when you’re sick.”

If you had the strength you would smack his pretty face for that statement alone, but you really, really don’t. You can barely sit up on your own. So, you nudge him with your elbow and grumble, “Shut up.”

With a bright smile on his face, he gives you another squeeze. “I love you too,” he says.

You squeeze his bicep three times to assure him that yes, you do love him, and you can’t help but think that perhaps being coddled in Matt Murdock’s arms while recovering from a little infection isn’t so bad, after all. It certainly could be worse.

fluff tag list: @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @ravenclaw617 @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler @mochie-is-a-librarian

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x gender neutral reader #daredevil x reader #sick fic #charlie cox

121 notes · View notes

ihfmseatsoch · 3 days ago

Note

Happy new year!!!!! I hope your new year is good!!! To start the new year off, would it be okay to request something softer with Jimmy? Dubcon of course with the reader topping and giving Jimmy soft praise to where he starts crying? Like he has a mommy kink and he unravels when he gets gentle sex?

-🥩

HAPPY NEW YEAR !!! 😁🎉 ermm i went a little crazy with this one. i love jimmy best when hes nice and pathetic

genre: smut, angst

word count: 3.6k

fem!reader

warnings/content: porn with a lot of feelings, heavy self deprecation, jimmy has mommy issues, mentions of parental abuse and drug addiction, mommy kink, sub jimmy, ooc maybe but IDC!!!!!

—

"Fuck are you doin'?"

Jimmy mutters, and you're unsure if he's confused, or upset. He makes the same expression for either emotion.

You're sat on his lap, straddling his hips while your fingers tenderly brush his hair back, raking them through the surprisingly soft strands. It's surprising, because he only uses that two-in-one shit from the dollar store.

"What do you mean?" You say, not really paying any attention to his usual snark.

He leans into your touch, almost like a cat; seeming to enjoy your attention, but there's a chance he may get sick of it in a split second and bite your hand. Still, he craves physical touch just as much as the next person, even if he'd never admit that to anyone, including himself. It's stupid, he thinks, to be that vulnerable. To crave something like a loving touch or a warm hug. It's corny.

He scoffs at your question, but it’s more lighthearted than anything. "I’m talking about you being all… lovey-dovey on me. You tryin' to butter me up for somethin'?"

You shake your head 'no', with a gentle smile. It's not like buttering him up would result in anything in the first place. Usually, if you really do want something, he'll complain and accuse you of being spoiled. Although, there's a 50% chance that if you give him a blowjob first, he'll be slightly more agreeable.

"Nope. Nothing like that. Am I not allowed to love you?" You press a kiss to his forehead, and you receive a quiet grumble from him in response. Jim's trying desperately to maintain his usual grumpy demeanor, but he's failing. He hates that you can get him like this, how you can make the all-consuming ache in his body dissipate with a squeeze of his hand or a kiss to his temple. Jimmy can never just accept that he wants your affection, but you can tell that he doesn't mind it one bit, even if he continuously acts like he wants you as far away from him as possible.

"Shut up…” He hesitates for a moment, clearly debating his next words. “I didn’t say you couldn’t… do that…” Jimmy mumbles, and his hand snakes around your waist, keeping you in place on his lap, giving your hip a tentative squeeze. "You don't have to be sappy about it."

"Being in love with you is sappy?"

You ask, holding both sides of his face in your hands, his coarse stubble scratching your thumbs as they caress his cheeks, feeling every groove of his protruding cheekbones. Every inch of him is sharp. Angular, and jagged. He tries his hardest to make his outward appearance match his heart. Unlucky for him, you're annoyingly determined to see him in a different light.

Jimmy's looking everywhere except your face, refusing to admit that he's quickly turning into a sniveling, needy boy who wants nothing more than to just be held. No one's ever loved him before. No one's ever said stuff like that to him, or ever made him as soft as he is now. He's not quite used to the idea of vulnerability yet. He can hear the voice in his head, telling him to pull back, to run and hide.

"Yeah," He reiterates, "It is."

You closely study the way his features soften. His brows, which have always seemed to be frozen in a permanent furrow, relax ever so subtly. Anyone would have to be as close as you are right now to notice the difference.

"Ah, I see." You nod in faux understanding. "My sincerest apologies."

He hates how much you know him. Hates how you pay attention to the smallest of details, to every bit of his body language. How you've cracked down his walls and managed to see him for the pathetic, touch-starved man he is right down to his very soul. It's embarrassing. Humiliating, even. But yet, he has no idea how to pull back. He's hooked. A nicotine addiction with even less ability to drop the habit.

"Don't be a smartass." He mutters in response to your sarcasm, looking like he's moments away from throwing you off his lap, but his hand on your waist hasn't moved since he absentmindedly placed it there.

You click your tongue at his ever present stubbornness. You'll have to take things a bit further to get him to quit being such an ass.

A subtle roll of your hips against his gets him to physically tense under you, his fingertips digging a little too painfully hard into your flesh, though it doesn't deter you. You trail a hand down his lean chest, purposefully tantalizing with how slow you move. "Don't be stubborn." You almost sound stern. Like you're scolding him.

Jimmy sucks in a breath at your obvious teasing, the sound devolving into a low, stifled noise. "I'm not being stubborn," His voice wavers embarrassingly, "And stop that."

"Stop what?" You bite back a grin at your feigned cluelessness, though it's not entirely meant to be all that convincing in the first place. You shift in his lap again. He's already getting worked up, and all you're doing is toying with him. Jimmy can't let you win that easily, right?

"Don't give me that shit, you know damn well what," He hisses, glaring at you with annoyance, "Stop... moving around like that." His voice betrays him a second time, cracking mid-sentence.

"Why?"

You tilt your head inquisitively, and before he can snap at you again, your palm presses down onto his groin, making all of his attitude fizzle out momentarily. Jimmy stiffens, his grip on you tightening. He doesn't respond to your question instantly, too distracted by how you're caressing his now apparent hard-on through his jeans, and a shaky exhale escapes him. The noise sounds so vulnerable, so uncharacteristic and unguarded for a man like him, and it takes him a couple moments before he's able to form a response.

"...You're a mean little brat, you know that?" He manages to get out through gritted teeth.

"Aww, don't be like that," You lean in to pepper a trail of sweet kisses starting at his cheek, down to his jaw, neck, and finally, at his collarbone. The way his breath hitches tells you everything you need to know. "Don't pretend like you hate this."

He makes a noise that rises from the back of his throat, between a whine and a growl, like a wounded animal in need of someone to soothe them Jimmy isn't used to having such a gentle and loving touch on his bruised, damaged body. You're treating him like he's something fragile, breakable, something to take care of.

He's not, he knows he's not.

Yet, he can't stop the way your kisses are burning his skin, heating him to the very core. Jimmy never thought he was someone worthy of being spoiled with soft, chaste kisses, being touched with gentle, adoring hands. And yet, here you are, doing that exact thing.

Jimmy tries to respond, he really does, but all he can do is let out a small, choked-up moan.

Noticing the way his adams apple bobs as he swallows down and contains his emotion, you pull back to look him directly in his eyes, pools of honey brown that only hold your reflection alone inside of them in this moment. "Hey," Your tone becomes more serious, less playful than before, "I love you, Jim. You never let me, but I still do."

That word. 'Love'. Jimmy hates it. Not because he's never heard it before, but because for some reason, it's never sounded real when directed towards him.

"Why?" Is all he manages to ask, not accustomed to this type of raw, vulnerable affection. Where's the screaming, the anger, the violence? Where's the toxicity?

"Why shouldn't I?"

You respond with a question of your own. There's a multitude of answers he could give you. He's been screwed up since birth, his own mom abandoning him at some junky trailer park with his father who found any reason to give him a black eye, or throw him out into the dirt. Quite literally, sometimes.

Or the fact that he's never made an effort to improve his own life, even after he made it out of that "home". Instead, he got addicted to heroin and sex and alcohol and destroyed himself for the thrill he got out of torturing himself.

Who would love someone like that?

Jimmy can't take your kind, loving gaze on him anymore, so he turns his head to the side, refusing to look at you. He wants to scream at you, to say something cruel and heartless, to tell you to knock off that 'doey-eyed' bullshit and give him the cold hard truth of the matter. That people like him aren't meant to be loved, that he's a disgusting, pathetic mess who doesn't deserve a single drop of your affection.

But all he can do is silently swallow down the lump in his throat, too emotional to muster up a reply.

You turn his head right back towards you, and kiss him on the corner of his mouth, right on an ugly scar that never fully healed properly. "Can I take care of you? Just once, will you let me?" You murmur against his skin, warm and flushed.

Jimmy's brain is wired to resist, to deny your advances and stubbornly hold onto any sort of 'authority' and masculinity he has left. To give in to you would be letting you win, surrendering to your kindness. That's what he keeps telling himself, anyway.

A long, shuddering exhale escapes his lungs.

"...Yeah," He whispers like it pains him to say it out loud, "Yeah, you can."

He's only semi-hard now, not exactly horny enough to get it up, but desperate enough for your attention in any form.

You take his cock out of his fly, holding him in your hand so delicately that he feels pitied. He doesn't want to feel so fragile. But, in your hands, it's not so terrible. His skin tingles with warmth, even deep inside of him burns with an aching desire to be wanted. Maybe that's why he agreed to this in the first place. Not because of sexual enticement, but instead, the intense yearning he's pushed down and ignored.

It's hard to wrap his mind around the fact that a woman like you actually seems to care about him at all. He's a parasite. He can't help but want more from you, to devour you whole and keep you in his clutches. Jimmy can't stand being touched like this, being treated like he's something valuable, something worthwhile. He wants to push you away and tell you to stop pampering him like he's a helpless baby, because he's not. He's a man, and men aren't supposed to melt and tremble at a loving touch.

But god, does it feel incredible when you begin to stroke him. Your hand is so soft, meticulously taken care of, while his are calloused, dry skin bitten and torn off, resulting in sore cuticles and rough palms. The rise and fall of Jimmy's chest gradually picks up speed, uncharacteristically subservient noises leaving his throat.

"I love you," You suckle a sensitive spot on his neck, mumbling praises between leaving a red hickey on his tanned skin, "I love you so much. I mean it."

Jimmy's mind is stuck in a haze of confusing emotions, every word you say goes straight to his head, fueling his self-destructive tendency to crave more, more, more. Why are you doing this? What do you gain from acting so sweet to him?

"You–" He shudders, "You're wasting your time with me."

Maybe he's right. You can't change him, not by a longshot. He'll never treat you the way you deserve, like a proper boyfriend. He'll always end up shouting at you out of frustration, he'll always break things and punch walls during arguments, he'll always slip horribly deep into his depression and self isolate, rotting alone in his room while you're worried sick about him.

But you're not trying to "fix" him. You're taking him as he is, flaws and all.

Jimmy's no longer sure if he can stomach the realization that maybe, just maybe, you genuinely love him.

The way you're pumping his cock, sending stinging jolts of burning hot pleasure that shoot straight through his abdomen, makes him react in a way neither of you expect.

He's crying.

It feels so good– you're so fucking infuriatingly good, all he can do is weep. Tears stream down his face as he whimpers, his breathing coming out as labored, choked gasps. A shaky breath comes from him, trying to compose himself before he speaks, "You should stop. Please. I don't deserve it."

You shake your head, persistent as ever when it comes to him. You wipe away a fresh tear as soon as it attempts to slip down his cheek.

"No," You say, "Don't push me away." The way you look at him, all love and tenderness; it makes him nauseous.

"Please..." He begs. He's not sure what for.

You shush him, a finger to his chapped lips, before you pull your pants down, underwear along with them. He's seen you bare more times than not, yet in this particular instance, it feels like your willingness to give yourself to him is an act of gracious mercy. He only takes, and yet, you give so freely.

"It's alright," You coo, melodic, "Just relax."

His heart is pounding in his chest as his eyes linger on your cunt, glistening and eager, just for him, and you can see the sheer need in his eyes. If he wasn't before, he's completely defenseless against you now, and it scares him how badly he loves and loathes it at the same time.

It takes everything inside him not to cry out as you guide him to your hole, sinking down slow so you don't overwhelm him all at once. Jimmy buries his face in your chest, his breathing labored and stuttering. "I'm right here, I've got you." You kiss the top of this head, petting his hair back, smoothing down every loose strand. Yhe way you're so gentle and attentive with him, handling him with care, it feels maternal. Motherly. Or, at least, what he imagines having a mother coddle you feels like.

You're warm. Comforting. Nurturing. Patient. All the adjectives that describe the parental figure he didn't have. You're what he's been missing, deprived of.

Jimmy holds onto you like a lifeline, helping you lift up, then sink back down onto him in a steady rhythm, your gummy insides pulsing to the beat of your heart around his aching cock. You're pulled flush against him, his lips lightly grazing the area around your collarbones, leaving an array of light hickeys.

"My perfect boy," You let out a satisfied sigh, lifting your bra up and over your body to reveal your chest to him, your tits bouncing at every movement, "Always so good to me."

Jimmy can't take it. The idea that he's perfect? It's so unbelievably rewarding to hear those words directed at him. He lets out a trembling whine at the sight of your newly exposed skin, before immediately burying his face into your tits, a hand moving to grope and squeeze one, his mouth latching onto the other, eagerly sucking and taking your piqued nipple between his teeth.

You let out a few moans of your own, gasping every time he nips you a little too hard. "F– Fuck, that's good, Jim." Your fingers grip the hair on the back of his head, tugging lightly, the way it makes his scalp sting slightly causing him to groan against you, the sound low and gutteral.

He can't think straight anymore, every single one of his senses completely overwhelmed. In the heat of the moment, he finds himself involuntarily crying out something that immediately makes him want to jump into a vat of acid.

"M– Mommy–"

You freeze for a moment, not from disgust or discomfort, just... surprise. Jimmy? Your Jimmy, calling you mommy of all things? You thought you'd entered another plane of existence. After forcing a quick recovery, you notice his own mortification.

"...What'd you say?" You ask, not intentionally trying to embarrass him further, you just wanted to double check that you actually heard what you thought you heard.

Jimmy is currently in a full blown panicked frenzy. He's never called anyone that in his life. Literally, he didn't even have a mother figure to give that title to. Trying to regain his bearings through the hot wash of shame coarsing through his body, his head feeling full of cotton, he stammers, "Fuck, I– I don't know where that came from, I–" he should just get up and go hang himself, he thinks.

"Hey, no, it's fine," You reassure him, even though it does nothing to alleviate his humiliation, "I don't mind, really."

He's expected you to call him disgusting, berate and mock him for being a creep; Anything but being so understanding and patient. "W– Why... Why are you so... you?" He asks, unable to wrap his head around how you haven't broken into a fit of laughter yet.

You shrug, chuckling a little at his impossible question, "Well, I don't exactly have the answer to that," Your hand moves to knead his shoulder, easing the tension away, "But... I do know that I wouldn't mind being your mommy. Not at all."

Jimmy hated how his cock twitched inside of you when you said that, the realization that he actually liked what he's hearing, that he wanted to call you mommy of all things, made him want to bang his head against the wall until it splits.

"...Just, don't– don't fuckin' make fun of me for this." He grumbles, burying his face back in between your soft tits to hide himself. He couldn't possibly maintain eye contact right now.

"Never." You shake your head, returning to riding his dick, slower and softer than you've both ever been in bed. It felt nice, to give up control. To let you take your time with him, whispering praises into his ear, leaving sugary sweet love bites on his neck.

This, he believes, is true bliss.

Being pampered like this... It's addictive, and he's not letting go of it now that he finally has a taste.

"Th– Thank you," He whines, low and needy, sounding choked up again, "Thank you."

It's rare to hear him show gratitude for something, especially in a way that's so deep, so genuine. "Thank you... what?" You decide to indulge yourself in this side of him while you have the chance.

Jimmy groans, knowing where you're going with this. He's too pathetic to deny himself what he wants at this point, and he whimpers pleadingly, "...Thank you..." He chokes the words out as if he's being forced against his will, but you can practically hear how eager he is to say the next word on his tongue, "...Mommy."

"There you go," You croon, "That's a good boy. You're mommy's good little boy, aren't you?"

He doesn't know why he feels like sobbing.

Everything you're saying is seared directly into his brain, scolding hot, like a brand. "Yeah," He breathes, "Yeah, I'm... I'm your good boy." Jimmy nestles his face into the side of your neck. He's a dog, rubbing against their owner, begging for attention.

As he nears his release, he gradually turns into even more of a mess, his salty tears falling onto your shoulder, arms wrapped so tight around your torso that you fear he'll snap your ribcage in two, babbling a broken, trembling string of "mommy, mommy, mommy–"

"Mommy's right here." You breathe, his cock hitting all the right angles deep inside you, and for once, you're setting the pace, which only enhances the experience for you.

Jimmy knows he'll regret this later. This entire experience will probably turn into something else his brain tortures him with at night, but, at the moment, he's too drunk off your cunt to care. His head is empty for once, fuzzy and blissfully silent. He can't even form a proper sentence anymore, the only words able to make it past his lips are desperate pleads.

"Are you close, honey?" You ask, and you receive a frantic nod from him in response, along with a strangled whimper. "I know, I know," You murmur with audible compassion, "You want to cum so bad, don't you?"

He's sure that this is his new form of worship, his religion. Not that he ever had one to begin with. "Y– Yeah," He whines, breathless, "Please... Please–"

"You don't have to beg," You tell him, even though, truthfully, you were getting off on his begging this entire time, "Go ahead and cum for mommy. Cum deep in mama's pussy, baby."

Jimmy throws his head back, jaw clenched, eyes screwed shut, and as if by your command, he releases inside of you with a drawn out, quivering mewl, hot spurts of his release coating your insides. You can feel him throb, twitch, and tremor, coming undone, all because of you.

He looks more beautiful to you than he ever has, with a tear stained face and red rimmed eyes.

You comfort him as he comes down from his high, leaving a trail of kisses down the slope of his neck, from his adams apple to the area between his collarbones. You're like a soothing balm to an old and rotten wound he's long since tried to forget.

For better or for worse, he's never letting you go.

—

#jimmy mouthwashing #mouthwashing x reader #jimmy mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing jimmy #mouthwashing jimmy x reader #🥩 anon

136 notes · View notes

godhandler · 1 day ago

Text

Ex-boyfriend Gojo who shows up at your house 5 years later. He looks a bit different now.

|Souls are laid to rest after the death of the body. As for Gojo Satoru, his soul rests with you. In other words, your terrible ex-boyfriend is having way too much fun haunting you|

|satoru gojo x reader, fluff, lil bitty angst, gojo being gojo, 700 words, desi-coded reader|

previous series masterlist

Satoru flashes his 24-carat grin ear to ear when you come to. “All this 'cause you don’t take iron supplements. How many times have I told you again?” He shakes his head. “Your voodoo spicy diarrhoea jar won’t fix everything, you know.”

The human body has two directors of the nervous system. While mostly the wondrous brain lords over man, there come times that the castle of the body comes under attack by such impossibility (like a rampage by demonic forces or worse, the ghost of your terrible ex come alive) that the coward brain hides and the spinal cord, which does not have the complexity to understand emotional duress, takes control.

“Don’t insult Chawanprash.” Satoru might be a translucent mist after his untimely death floating in front of you and breaking all existing laws of physics. But your spinal cord does not care for such trivialities. “I’m not even anaemic anymore.”

“Is that why a silly surprise sent you lying on the floor?”

Ghost boy correct, says your spinal cord. Get up body, cook dinner.

“I have to get up and cook dinner.” Your voice is too hollow for Satoru. It’s the shock sending you to robotic autopilot, he hopes, you’ve been out for a couple hours after all. It’s 2 am now. “Merry Christmas, Satoru.”

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

My love. Satoru called you that. He used to call you that. It’s been 5 years. The floor is cold. It’s Christmas. The sofa you grab to pull yourself up is soft, the walls you lean on your path to the kitchen hard. Satoru is here. Satoru called you his love. The stove is hot. My love. Satoru’s love. 5 years ago he called the wedding off. Oven is steamy inside, a fully baked cinnamon cake sweet. Your mouth is full of cake. Warm and sweet. You created the recipe for Satoru. Satoru is a ghost now. He called you- My love. Satoru is dead.

“Satoru is dead.” Disbelieving words slip through your mouth. You stare straight ahead at the kitchen wall, refusing to look at the ghost floating behind your shoulder.

He doesn’t reply.

“How are you dead? Satoru?”

Nothing.

“Is it that terrorist in Shibuya? I guessed it was something curse related. But I still don’t understand. How could you die?”

Nothing but a slight swish as the ghost moves.

“How could you die?”

Another swish– “I wish I could taste the cake, it looks incredible. Say, we could sprinkle powdered sugar on it too. And honey. Cookie crumbs, red bean paste, chocolate syrup.”

Ah. Infinity is nothing compared to the emotional barrier Satoru surrounds himself with. Even to you. Even after death.

Not a big deal. It’s just that you’ve known him since you were in kindergarten together as babies, grew up playing together, still kept in touch even after he went away to study jujutsu and you to art college, supported him through the pit he fell into after Geto’s defection, officially dated for four years and engaged for one until he called it quits.

But hey, it’s not like your story ended there. It wasn't all so tragic. Break ups happen everyday.

Life goes on. He had his life and you had yours. The work report was due on Saturday. Your elderly neighbour needed help moving their fridge. Satoru blocked you on everything a week later. Your cousin had a baby shower. Taxes have to be filed soon. Your mom broke her hip, needed to be driven to the hospital. Whispers said that he’s found a woman to marry, that she’s the one, some said it’s all idle gossip, they’re just close friends and nothing more. You got a promotion at work. The washing machine had to be fixed. Mom needed help getting around so you moved in with her temporarily. Taxes again. Your cousin had another baby shower, a little girl this time. Life goes on.

It’s fine.

You sit with your mug of mulled wine and cinnamon cake at the dinner table. You’ve kept the same apartment all these years, it’s a familiar memory as Satoru pulls a chair to sit beside you. His hand goes right through the cake to his despair. You laugh. He giggles.

It’s fine.

81 notes · View notes

iichfilwypj · 2 days ago

Note

HII how are youu? I was just wondering if you could maybe write a part 2 of the "love at first sight" fic you just wrote! Its soo good but honestly it's fine if you cant :)

remember to drink water 💙

love at first sight? ² | percy jackson

part 1 ღ percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader ღ warnings: a lot of tension!!! it gets a bit sexual but not that much i promise! no smut or anything,, ღ wc: 1.137 hii! i'm so late, but i hope you like it! sorry if you were expecting something else, i really didn't know how this could end except like this! i love u!

While waiting, Percy’s mind raced with possibilities.

He pictured her stepping through the branches, as stunning as before, offering her name, and maybe even a kiss.

Although, maybe the kiss was too much; a simple hand shake would suffice.

But then, doubts crept in—she might ghost him, turn out to be some monster trying to kill him, or show up with someone else.

The distant rustle of leaves drew his attention, one hand going to his pocket—for his new sword—and the other messing with his hair—to make sure it looked decent; you know, just in case.

Riptide remained untouched. A slender hand appeared, pushing them aside with ease to reveal what he had been waiting for.

And she looked even more breathtaking than before.

Her hair wasn’t all down anymore; half of it was tied up, a pink bow in it. Her cheeks were still adorned with the same soft pink flush, that shade that never seemed to fade. Her long lashes framed her eyes, and her lips—God, there was no doubt that some makeup had made them look perfect, so kissable.

Percy couldn’t help but swallow hard, his breath hitching.

“Hi, Percy,” She drew closer, stopping directly in front of him and simply gazing at him.

His heart hammered in his chest. He was intimidated—he had no clue what to do. He’d never been in this situation with such a beautiful girl.

But at that moment, a thought struck him.

Who cares? I’m a God’s son; things can’t possibly go that wrong.

So his serious expression melted away, and he grinned—sideways and confident. His gaze sharpened with a renewed sense of purpose.

“Hey,” He answered, voice taking on a teasing edge as he took a step forward. The air around him seemed to shift as her perfume surrounded him.

Gently, he brought his hand up to her shoulder, his fingers almost trembling as they touched the fabric of her shirt, and, with the same softness, he swept a lock of hair away.

His smile grew just a little more as he felt the delicate flutter of her response, a tiny shift in her posture at his touch.

“Are you going to tell me your name, or are we keeping up the mystery?” Percy asked, his grin playful.

Hell, she was taken aback.

Just a few hours ago, he had seemed so lost, confused about what was happening, and clearly intimidated by her. She was used to that, but now, things felt completely different.

He was gorgeous, his dark hair casual and his face something straight out of a movie. His green eyes held her attention, captivating in a way that was hard to ignore.

The shift in his confidence left her more than a little intrigued.

And she was always prepared for any challenge that might come.

Her name slipped from her lips, and Percy felt a sense of awe. It was the most beautiful name he’d ever heard, and somehow, he knew he wouldn’t forget it anytime soon.

“So, Percy, where’d you go? I didn’t see you at dinner,” She asked, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the bracelet on her wrist.

“Oh, a lot; camp’s a total blast.” Percy said with a grin, enjoying the irony.

“Really? You didn’t seem bored with me,” she raised an eyebrow.

“I said camp was boring, not you.”

Her head tilted playfully. “You're cute, Percy,” She laughed.

And just like that, Percy spotted it: a faint, subtle kiss mark resting on her high cheekbone.

With that, it all fell into place; her way of speaking, each of her movements filled with allure, and the undeniable aura that surrounded her—making it obvious that anyone who got to gaze at her had already won the greatest reward.

And that would likely be the only privilege they’d ever have.

She had to be a daughter of Aphrodite.

“D'you figure something out, pretty boy?” Her voice snapped him back to the moment.

“Maybe,” He replied, leaning in slightly. “But I’m still figuring you out.”

The air in that hidden space became incredibly heavy, holding the intense tension that hung between them.

She had no intention of taking the first move. Her eyes were fixed on his, looking for that sign of desperation she needed to find. Her hands trembled with anticipation, picturing what could come next as she noticed a trace of lust in his green eyes.

Percy quickly grasped the situation. If he wanted anything to happen, he had to be the one to start. He had fallen into her game, but he had gone too far to turn back now.

Too far to lose it.

“Something's telling me I shouldn’t be here, that I should walk away,” He murmured, his hand lifting to gently trace the line of her jaw. “But I think I’m willing to find out.”

“Oh, you sound brave,” She whispered, her hands exploring his chest, testing the waters. “Or maybe you are just reckless,”

“I guess that depends on what comes next.” Percy replied, his eyes glinting with determination.

His hands moved to her neck, holding it tenderly and never breaking eye contact. It was like a contest—each of them daring the other to break first.

“And what do you want to happen next, Percy?” She shivered slightly under his touch, but didn’t pull away.

“I want to see if you're as fearless as you act.”

As he whispered the words in her ear, her lips parted for just a second; the faintest invitation. Percy couldn’t resist it, closing the distance between them in one swift motion.

As soon as their lips met, their bodies took over, deciding for them. His hands moved to her hair, hers to his biceps. Her nails scratched the skin and he could only push her against the large trunk of the tree, the wood scraping softly her skin as he lifted her.

Percy’s fingers skimmed the edges of her orange t-shirt, feeling the heat of her skin beneath his fingertips. His pulse raced as he felt her legs squeeze his waist and pulled her even closer, feeling the tremble of her chest against his own, the weight of her closeness making his head spin.

She was the first to pull back, lips brushing his lightly before she tilted her head back to rest against the wood. He couldn't stop, pressing soft kisses everywhere he could.

“Wait,” She said, making him tilt his head, slowing down his movements to listen. “Nobody is gonna get jealous, right?”

Last thing she wanted was to kiss a taken guy; there are some limits, y'know.

He smiled, amused. “Don’t make me laugh,”

Her fingers, light as a whisper, traced the line of his jaw, and in that moment, time seemed to stretch. He could feel himself losing control. Her proximity was both a dream and a nightmare.

But her laughter was like music to his ears, and Percy found himself smiling more than he expected.

“You even have a pretty laugh,” He remarked, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised by his words. She’d expected something more physical, something a little more bold, but this caught her off guard. She liked it, it was just weird.

“Do you know what you’re getting into?” Her challenge hung in the air, daring him to prove that he was more than just a guy caught up in the moment. “Do you want to?”

But for him it wasn't a challenge, it was what he wanted. Percy held her gaze, something in him shifting, the tone in her voice mixing with a vulnerability he hadn't expected.

His chest tightened as he realized how much he wished to take that step—to cross that line, to get lost in her world.

In any way he could, in any way she’d let him.

He not only wanted to worship her, but to love her.

“Yes, I want to,” Percy said, pecking her cheekbone, right over the kiss mark. “It was love at first sight, I’m not letting you go anywhere now,”

LOVE I'M SO SORRY! this request has been in my inbox for A MONTH! i hope you like it! <3

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x y/n #fanfic #my writing #percy jackson imagines

60 notes · View notes