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reignpage · 2 days ago

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Physics Tutor!Nanami

Conservation of momentum: if it's just us we can remain at a constant

Content: Friday night party, we're nearing the end y'all, mixed content of angst and fluff, a little sexual action but only if you squint Word Count: 3k Guide

“Nanami, seriously, you’re a grown man,” you mutter, a little annoyed.

This isn’t how you expected to spend to your Friday night, wrangling a six-foot-tall man into his home but your ex-physics tutor came to a frat party and you had actually drank with him. Now you’re facing the consequences.

Earlier in the night, the sight of Nanami in his cute blue sweater, sitting awkwardly as he eyed the couple making out next to him with disgust, was enough to warrant a heart attack. You had offered to drink with him in the garden, to take care of him so he could let loose. For an hour or two, you drank a couple shots, relishing the cool breeze which kept your head screwed tight as you sat beside him.

Gojo had passed by, wriggling his eyebrows at you and making lewd movements with his hands. That hadn’t gone by unnoticed by Nanami, who grew quiet. You thought maybe he was tired, maybe he wanted to go home, and when you suggested you part ways, he gripped your wrist.

“No, don’t go with him,” he slurred.

You didn’t have plans to go with your friend, you were just going to turn in for the night too, but as you looked at the man you’ve been madly in love with for months and saw his ruffled hair, slightly askew glasses, fogging up from the heat his face was producing, and the flush brightening his cheeks, you realised that there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

So, you stayed, sitting on the garden sofa with him. There were a couple other people loitering around, but none really paid any attention, everyone too immersed in their own conversations and lives to notice the two of you in the corner, thighs pressed together and shoulder brushing once in a while.

His heat was permeating, tickling your side, and you couldn't help yourself, you leaned in close, the alcohol in your system made it so effortless to just let his gravitation pull bring you closer. If he noticed, he didn't say a thing.

You made small talk, discussing lectures and assignments. It was easy to talk to Nanami; other people were always so eager to prove themselves academically superior, never really listening to what you had to say, but rather looking for weak points to attack. It was never a conversation and instead a battlefield. And when you complained to your friends, they never seemed to understand.

With him, however, he listened more than he talked. Always. He hummed and nodded, mulling and considering your words carefully like what you had to say was just as important as anything an esteemed lecturer was teaching. With him, you felt like equals. Which was insane because he was Nanami Kento, and you were just the girl he had to tutor.

"I hate that bald Professor!" You groaned. "He's so boring."

He chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "He is rather monotonous, I must admit. You aren't the first student to complain and likely will not be the last."

"Yeah, I bet. But I honestly just don't think he should be a lecturer. I'd probably be a better one than him."

Meeting your gaze, you see the crinkle in the corners of his eyes, the way they soften as they roam your face, stopping by your smile. His fingers twitch on the empty shot glass, skimming the rim just a little before he affirms, "I have no doubts you would be; I can't imagine anyone finding you boring."

Passing each other shot glasses, you'd sip and chat. Nothing about the elephant in the room, not about your confessions, about the odd tension permeating the relationship, certainly not about why he showed up to the party, or why he had become flirtatious. Perhaps it was cowardice that held you both back. Maybe it was the enjoyment of simply existing beside each other, not as classmates, not as tutor and student, and not as two people whose feelings have gotten all tied up.

But as just Nanami and y/n.

Eventually, you both ceased your chattering. Settling to watch the other partygoers or the stars twinkling. Once in a while, he'd point to a star and tell you about its story, and you'd sit entranced by his voice --it's so steady, so smooth and clear, you could listen to it for hours. And when he talked to you of astronomy and gravity and quantum mechanics and the probability of time travel, you thought he should be a lecturer. You'd attend every class, every seminar, and never complain.

"How do you know so much about stars? We don't get taught about constellations."

He lifted one shoulder. "I work at the Eden Observatory part-time."

It was so quintessentially Nanami you didn't question it even though you were bursting to ask. He would have given you all the answers you sought, you're sure by the way he gazes at you expectantly.

Silence passed by, comfortable and soothing. You had no idea what time it was, didn’t care enough to reach forward to get your phone from the table, and neither did Nanami. You thought maybe he was nodding off but when you peered up at him, he was looking down.

At your hand.

“C-can I hold it?”

His voice was gravelly, a hesitation that you’d never heard from him. The way he was gazing down at your hand, limp on your lap, like it was precious, like it was made of glass, and he could be beheaded for daring to even look, made your stomach feel weird. It was the very feeling you had been trying to bury for weeks.

It was dangerous. You’d been working so hard to walk away and he was erasing the line, stretching out his arms to invite you back over. Unwise was what letting him do as he pleased would be, and yet, you found yourself nodding. And when his own hands, warm and large, wrapped around one of yours, you couldn’t fight back the shiver that ran through you.

He was holding you so softly, in a way no one ever has, and you could only gulp. It was as if you had entered enemy territory, foreign and riddled with land mines that could go off and blow everything up if you so as much as made the wrong step. When his thumb grazed your knuckles, your heart skipped a beat.

“Nanami,” you began but his hand squeezed yours and you shut up.

Your ex-physics tutor was still staring at your hand, marvelling at the soft skin, his glasses slide down his nose just a little bit, and you had to push it up with your free hand. That caught his attention, as if remembering there was a person attached to the hand he was holding so carefully.

Clearing his throat, he shook his head, clearly trying to get his bearings. “Y/n, please rethink your decision to drop out.”

“I can’t.” You pulled your hand out of his like it burned. And then you looked away, crossing your arms so you wouldn’t be tempted. “This is for the best.”

“No. You were doing so well, even Professor Yaga had said so.”

With a sigh, you turned back to him, finding his blush endearing. The longer you stared the more it threatened your defences. You couldn’t let him talk you out of it, your sister you could fight off, even Gojo, but not Nanami. Not when every word that came out of his mouth sounded like the Gospel, like undeniable, irrefutable facts.

Standing, you brushed invisible dust off your skirt and looked anywhere but at him. Unsteady, you asserted, “Nanami, I’ll take you back.”

He shook his head, strands of his hair falling over his forehead, obscuring his vision. You brushed them off, so lush under your palm, and he looked up at you like you were an angel -- mouth slightly parted, he blew air in the space between you, eyes slightly glossy as he watched you.

“You’re so beautiful, you know?” He whispered, and then added, his brows furrowing, softening his gaze even further, “It hurts to look at you.”

You staggered back, arms falling to your sides as you gaped at him. You didn’t understand what that meant, what he was trying to say, nor why your heart was clenching so painfully, like someone had reached in and squeezed.

“Maybe you can get your roommate to take you,” you whispered breathlessly.

Nanami shook his head once more, standing up too. His trousers were all crinkled and when he got to his feet he swayed slightly. You rushed over to his side, letting him lean against you. He was heavy, even as he carried most of his weight, and he smelled amazing. Clean, fresh and sweet. It reminded you of a bakery, just after closing, with the scent of butter and vanilla lingering in the air.

“No, Haibara’s with his sister.”

You both began walking, ignoring the staring and whistling people were throwing at you as they noticed both of your existence then. Some girls pointed to Nanami, no doubt recognising him from the List. They whispered amongst themselves, blushing and roving his body. You urged him to walk faster.

“Hey, hey, where are you two lovebirds going?” An irritating voice shouted. “You know my rules about fucking in the house. You have to pay a fee.”

Rolling your eyes, you informed him, “I’m taking Nanami home, he’s a little out of it.”

Gojo scanned your ex-tutor’s face, really looking at him and realising you were right. Suddenly, his grin dropped, and he was nodding to the front door. “Alright, I’ll drive. You seem out of it too.”

And just before you all left through the front door, he yelled to his deputy, “Don’t let the place burn down, it's a pain to deal with.”

The car ride to Nanami’s place passed in another relative silence, both of you in the back as you strapped him in, and your friend hummed to the songs on the radio, drumming his fingers. As obnoxious as Gojo could be, there were these rare moments of maturity and wisdom that people didn't see. But you did. You and Suguru, and these were the very moments that reminded you, no matter what, you would always find a home with him.

Parked, you unbuckled your seatbelt, reaching over the slightly light-headed man and unbuckled him too. His hand brushed your hair, gently, always so gentle. You refused to look at him.

“Let me know if you need a ride back,” Gojo threw at you, going on his phone as you fought to get your ex-tutor out, ignoring the glares you were directing towards him. His helpfulness had reached its max, clearly.

“No, she’s staying with me,” Nanami croaked. He slammed the door a little harder than necessary and you winced. Pointing a finger at Gojo through the rolled down window, he slurred, “You can go.”

Not taking any offence whatsoever, the frat president grinned and winked at you. “Alright, have fun, babes. Wrap it before you tap it. Or not. I'm pretty ready to be a fun uncle.”

And then he was driving off, leaving you crumpling under the weight of your responsibility with your jaw on the floor. That prick. Oh, you were so going to make him pay.

By some miracle, you made it up to his floor with Nanami's jumbled directions, and now here you are, muttering irritated complaints about how clumsy this grown man is despite his age and wisdom.

“Seriously? Nanami, I told you to get it before we reach your door!”

You’re watching Nanami dig through his pockets for his keys, pink tinting the tip of his ears, either with embarrassment or with the warmth of the alcohol. He’s fumbling, muttering curses under his breath as he struggles, clumsy fingers catching on each other. You groan and swat his hands away, trying to get a feel for his keys through his trousers instead.

This is not your first time dealing with drunk men. But it is your first time with a man as adorable as he is, unfortunately.

“Are you mad at me?”

Glancing up, you look at him, exasperated and unprepared for the pout on his face. His glasses are slanted again, and you have no free hands to push them back up — one hand is already holding him up and the other is buried in his pocket searching for his keys and trying to get past the lip balm in there.

"No, Nanami. I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed." You hate that you sound just like your mother, but someone has to be the responsible one. You just never thought it'd ever be you.

He winces. “Please, be careful.”

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

Nanami flushes harder, the tips of his ears matching and he avoids eye contact, stilling your wrist with a firm hand. “No, you didn’t. It’s just…”

You follow his gaze, both of you looking down and seeing something that shouldn’t be happening. You blink, cartoon character style. This is so very bad.

Taking a deep breath, you pull the keys out and mutter weakly, “Found it.”

Once you’re inside, you pull Nanami with you, eyeing his place and appreciating the cleanliness; your place is not nearly as tidy as his. But you do see a messy arrangement of papers on his table. You can imagine a busy Nanami, sitting on the sofa, going over the papers and reading out loud under his breath. You smile.

“Alright, big guy. Where’s your room?”

“Buy me dinner first,” he chuckles to himself. He slumps down on the sofa, the leather creaking under his weight and he shrugs off his sweater, the shirt underneath riding up to reveal his abs. You look away.

Oh, so the man has jokes.

You’re fighting the urge to walk away and with a shaky breath, full of frustration, you very calmly say, “Nanami, it’s late, sweetheart. You’re going to need to go to bed, okay?”

Then he’s smiling up at you, a gummy smile that’s so dopey you can’t help but smile with him.

“I like that.” He tilts his head at you. “I like when you call me sweetheart. Do it again.”

Counting to ten, you try again, “Okay, Nanami. I’ll call you sweetheart when you get in bed. It’s a reward.”

He mouths it back, tasting the word and that seems to resonate with him. Raising a hand out, he’s urging you to help him up and so you step forward, ready to bear his weight again, but then you’re being yanked down, and the world turns upside down.

Nanami’s pinned you to the sofa, leaning over you with a fierce look in his eyes. Gone is the nerdy lightweight, and in his place is the man you’ve caught glimpses of. The one that furrows his brown in a stern scolding, that scribbles frantically on his papers and argues with the professors. Suddenly, he no longer looks his age and instead, appears not as a clumsy college student, but rather as a man.

The kind of man that could command the attention of an entire room.

“You did this to me,” he gestures to his hard on, the very same one you’ve been avoiding staring too long at. “Take responsibility, won’t you, darling?”

You choke on your own saliva. What the fuck?

Shaking your head, you remind yourself, he’s drunk, you’re no longer his student, and you’ve been a pain in his ass the entire time. Don’t take anything he says whilst under the influence to heart. It’s just chemicals in his brain. Just a biological urge. It means nothing.

“Nanami, you’re drunk, let’s drink some water, okay?”

“Four shots is barely anything. I might be a lightweight, but I’m tipsy at most,” he scoffs. Leaning down, he grazes your cheek with his nose, inhaling deep with a groan. “You always smell so good.”

He might claim to be sober enough, but you’re not convinced. Sure, you can’t deny that you want him, but you don’t want him like this; you don’t want to be wanted because the alcohol has clouded his judgment. You want to be seen, as you are and not just another warm body to pass the time.

Slowly, gently and with as much patience as you can muster, you nudge his head from your neck, and say, “You need to let me go, Nanami.”

“No.”

“Nanami.”

“I don’t want you to leave me.” That gravelly voice is back, the one weighed down by some inner turmoil you aren’t privy to, and you can only bite your lip when he presses a tender kiss at the crook of your neck. “I want you any way you’ll let me.”

You’re tearing up. It might be because he’s whispering it right by your ear or because his words sound so sincere, but you feel your bottom lip quiver. This isn’t how the night was supposed to go; you wanted to let loose and forget everything by partying life away, but now you’re practically cuddling with your physics tutor. Ex physics tutor.

Despite being a little out of it and shaking with some unknown emotion, he isn’t suffocating you with his weight. He’s holding himself up in a plank, inhaling your scent and fighting off your weak pushes.

“Please, Nanami. Let’s talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

“You promise?” He lifts his head, lashes fluttering as he searches your features for any hint of deception. “You’re not going to avoid me?”

You shake your head, and he sighs, smiling.

“Good, because I really don’t like it when you do that.”

And then he’s pushing off. A cool breeze brushes past you and you’re shivering from the sudden loss of warmth. Nanami disappears into a room you’re assuming is his and you go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. When you enter his room, he’s only in his boxers, climbing into bed.

He lifts the cover up and pats the empty space beside him, grumbling, “Come on, I’m cold.”

You sigh, ripping the cover from his hands and tuck him in. “No, Nanami. I’m not sleeping with you. I’m going now so I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Almost breaking out into laughter at the scowl that graces his face, you have to distract yourself by pulling his glasses off and folding them onto his bedside table. Like this, he looks so youthful. No longer frowning over data variables or anomalistic lab results, he’s just lying peacefully.

"You aren't better off taking a different course. You work well under my tutelage. Grant me the opportunity to change your mind about everything. Let me show you I didn't mean the things I said," he pleads, eyes flutterings shut.

Hesitant, you say, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Nanami."

"Just one chance, y/n. Don't cross this off simply because we reached a bump. You trusted my guidance before, trust me now."

You don't know what exactly he's referring to and you're too scared to ask. All you can do is watch sincerity, a raw kind of pleading, swirl in his vibrant eyes. He has you in his palms and he doesn't even realise.

"Okay."

He’s fast asleep when you leave.

You don’t bother Gojo for a ride back to your home, you texted him your sister's picking you up. She might be asleep by now but you'll wake her up anyways, so you can tell her about everything that's happened and ask for her two cents, because you think Nanami practically confessed his feelings for you. But that doesn’t make sense with all that’s unfolded, right?

How could he possibly like a girl like you?

You’re loud, boisterous, air-headed, and not the kind of girl one takes home to their mother. He deserves a girl that’s as smart, as put together, and mature and wise as he is. Deserves one that hasn’t been tainted by bad decision and nightmares.

Sighing again — you’ve been doing a lot of that lately — you walk home, in the dark, fighting the urge to look back. And as the night’s chill prick your skin, you wonder how Nanami will feel in the morning.

Embarrassment, shame, humiliation?

Whatever it’ll be, you just hope it isn’t regret.

You have enough of that for the both of you.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk angst #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami fluff #nanami angst #Nanami Kento #jjk fic #nanami fic

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maskedbyghost · 1 day ago

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You know what doesn’t get talked about enough? The classic “we hate each other but have to share a bed” trope—especially with Simon. (There are literally 92084 versions of this, but it never gets old and I want to talk about it again.)

You can’t stand him, and the feeling is mutual. But now, thanks to some messed-up circumstances, there’s only one bed, and neither of you is happy about it.

You stared at it like it had personally offended you. "I’ll take the floor."

Simon scoffed, arms crossed over his chest. "Yeah? And be useless tomorrow ‘cause you slept like shit?" He shook his head. "Not happenin''."

"Then you take the floor," you shot back, knowing full well what his answer would be.

He just gave you a flat look, like you’d said something stupid. "Not a chance."

And that was how you ended up here—both lying stiff on opposite sides of the bed, a pillow shoved between you like it could fix the problem.

The room was silent except for the occasional creak of the bed frame whenever one of you shifted. You faced the wall, arms tucked tight against your chest, determined to pretend he wasn’t there. But Simon was big, and his presence was impossible to ignore. Every time he moved, you felt it. Every damn breath, every slight shift.

Then, at some point in the middle of the night, something happened. Maybe he turned in his sleep, maybe you did, but somehow there wasn’t space between you anymore. His arm, heavy and warm, draped across your waist like it belonged there. It made you freeze, barely breathing.

Carefully, you turned your head, just enough to look at him. His mask was off, of course, but the room was too dark to make out much beyond the sharp cut of his jaw and the rise and fall of his chest. His eyes were still closed—until they weren’t.

You expected him to pull away, to scoff and roll back to his side. But he didn’t. Instead, his grip tightened, pulling you closer, his voice low and rough from sleep.

“Stop wrigglin’,” he murmured, tucking his face against your shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “M’tryin’ to sleep here, love.”

Your heart kicked against your ribs. You wanted to argue, to shove him off, to remind him that this didn’t mean anything. But his body was warm, his hold steady, and somehow, you never got the words out.

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i'm back and horny for this man.

@daydreamerwoah

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female oc #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley #simon riley cod #cod #cod mw2

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authorscurse · 3 days ago

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Dad!Sukuna who allows himself to get bossed around by his own kid.

Sukuna Ryomen was known to be notorious and merciless in the business world. He was feared by all —his employees and business rivals alike— but no one ever thought the big bad Sukuna Ryomen would get bossed around by a literal toddler.

The heavy sounds of his footsteps as he enters the building make everyone shiver in their seats. Employees breathing heavily and hair standing waiting for their boss to grace them with his scary presence.

Click

As the doors open, expecting the rough voice of Sukuna they were greeted by

"Good morning," the voice was so tiny and soft that it made everyone whipp their heads towards their boss. Eyes widen to find a toddler sitting on top of Sukuna's shoulders, her clothes similar to her father's crip suit.

Waving her small hand in the air while Sukuna turns towards his office. No one dared to mention the vast array of decorative hair clips littering Sukuna's pink hair.

The employee takes a deep breath before knocking on Sukuna's door, hands slightly shaking while holding on to the file of the week's report that Sukuna was asking for.

"Come in," Sukuna answers. The employee enters his office to see Sukuna sitting on his usual chair doing his work while having his daughter also working on her work (she was colouring her colorbook).

"Sir, this is the report you've been asking for," the employee said, placing it on the side of his desk. "Just leave it there and go," Sukuna says, not even glancing up from his laptop, but his daughter did. She gave the employee one of her wide-eyed smiles and a cute wave of her hand, which the employee certainly reciprocated.

"Papa, pop," Sukuna's daughter said while repeatedly hitting her father with her palm. The employee's eyes slightly widen, expecting Sukuna's short temper to get the best of him but instead their boss just opens one of his drawer and pulls out a strawberry lollipop. "Nuh uh! Grape, papa!" Sukuna silently looks into the drawer and picks up a grape lollipop for his kid.

"Open, please," Her small voice says and once again without a single peep Sukuna opens the lollipop and hands it to his daughter that happily sucked on the sweet treat. What made the employee really have their eyes widen was how Sukuna tenderly places a soft kiss on his kid's forehead.

"What the fuck are you still here for?" Sukuna asks, finally glancing at the wide-eyed employee. Before the employee answers over her stutter Sukuna's daughter was quick to hut her father again with her tiny palm. "Bad word, papa! Not nice!" His daughter said, eyebrows knitted together and a pout decorating her face. "Say sorry!" She said, pointing at the shaking employee.

The employee starting to think she might get fired didn't expect for Sukuna to actually apologize. "I'm sorry," Sukuna says. "It's okay sir, it's nothing," the employee just gave off an awkward smile before rushing out the door. This time, the whole office was murmuring about the recent encounter of Sukuna with his daughter. And how the only one could tame the wild beast named Sukuna Ryomen was his own daughter who had his face.

The whole office was busy working on their own jobs until the little toddler with red eyes and bright pink hair walks in, holding her grape lollipop in hand.

"Hi, baby, where you going?" One of the female employees asks, deciding to entertain the girl who seemed invested in the work of everyone else.

"Papa get food for me. I get nuggets!" The little girl squealed happily. One by one the employees start turning their attention to Sukuna's cute daughter instead of their work.

"Oi, what are you doing there?" The loud voice of Sukuna Ryomen echoed through the walls of the office and had everyone freeze in their place. "Told you to stay in the office," Sukuna took no notice at the employees who had gathered around his daughter.

"Papa slow! Hungry!" The cute pink haired toddler walked towards her father and raised her hands up. "Carry, papa!" The toddler demanded, employees staring with wide eyes as the two interact.

Sukuna sighs and leans down to pick up his daughter, not both his arms were occupied. One with a box of chicken nuggets and one with his daughter who was fixing the decorative clips on his hair.

The two silently walked back to Sukuna's office leaving the employees who were watching speechless.

As the day came to an end, everyone was just hoping that the little cute baby Sukuna brought with him today would come again tomorrow so they would continue having a soft and silent Sukuna instead of the explosive angry boss they have.

The soft click of heels echo in the office, some turned to see a beautiful lady dressed in a sundress. "He's in his office, ma'am," Sukuna's secretary says to which you thanked and smiled. Eyes followed your every move as you walk into Sukuna's office.

Moments later, the three of you walked out the office. Ryomen carrying his daughter's bag on his shoulder and yours in his hand, following you and your daughter like an obedient puppy.

"Mama, papa bought me nuggets!" Your daughter says happily. The happiness in her voice made your smile warmly and kiss her cheek. "Papa was behaved today wasn't he?" You asked and your daughter nodded.

"Say bye-bye to papa's friends," you say and turn your daughter to look at the room filled with employees. "Bye bye!" Your daughter says waving her hand and everyone else waved back at her.

"Ryo, say bye," you ordered your husband with a sweet smile. Your husband sighs and waves goodbye to his employees before following you and your daughter out the door.

Turns out while Sukuna Ryomen ordered people around in the business world while injecting fear into their veins his own wife and daughter bossed him around in true life.

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legomaster333 · 3 days ago

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𓈒 ㅤ𓈒 ㅤ𓈒 "what? thought you wanted a hickey?"

when you try to prank heeseung with a fake hickey ⭐️୨୧ est. relationship , very much kissy , wc 0.5k

Heeseung was sprawled out on the couch, lazily flipping through his phone when you walked in, trying your best to act normal. You had spent the last ten minutes carefully blending a fake hickey onto your neck, making sure it looked just right, deep enough to catch his attention but subtle enough to be believable.

You casually sat down next to him, tilting your head ever so slightly, just enough for the mark to be visible.

At first, he didn’t notice. But then, his eyes flickered to your neck. Head flinching as he did a double take.

His phone dropped onto his chest as he pushed himself up slightly. "Babe," he started, his voice unusually calm. "What’s on your neck?"

You blinked at him innocently. "Huh? What do you mean?"

His jaw clenched. "That," he said, pointing at the mark.

You looked away, biting back a smile. "Oh… I don’t know. Maybe I, uh, scratched myself?"

His tongue poked at his cheek as he stared at you, clearly not buying it. "A scratch?" he repeated slowly.

"Mhm," you nodded, playing with the hem of your shirt like you weren’t dying from holding in your laughter.

Heeseung exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening as he suddenly sat up. In one swift motion, he grabbed your chin, gently tilting your face toward him to get a closer look. His thumb ghosted over the mark, his grip firm but careful.

"That’s funny," he mused, voice lower now. "Because it looks a hell of a lot like a hickey."

You swallowed, heart pounding a little, not out of fear, but because the intensity in his gaze was something else.

"It’s not," you stammered, trying to keep up the act.

His eyes met yours, unreadable for a moment. Then, before you could react, he smirked. Smirked.

"So that’s how we’re playing today, huh?" His voice was teasing, but the way his fingers brushed against your throat sent a shiver down your spine.

"What do you mean?"

Without another word, he shifted, pushing you back against the couch as he hovered over you, his lips mere inches from your skin. His hand slid to your waist, squeezing lightly as he dipped his head.

"If you’re gonna fake one," he murmured, his breath warm against your neck, "might as well make it real."

Before you could protest, his lips pressed against the exact spot where the fake hickey was, slow and deliberate. His kisses trailed lower, his grip tightening just enough to make you squirm.

"Heeseung—" you gasped, trying to push him away, but he only chuckled against your skin.

"What? Thought you wanted a hickey?" he teased, finally pulling back, admiring the actual mark forming on your neck now.

You shoved at his chest, your face burning. "It was a prank, you idiot!"

He laughed, sitting back with a smug grin. "Yeah? Well, joke’s on you. Now it’s real."

You huffed, crossing your arms. "You’re so annoying."

Heeseung only smirked, reaching out to pull you back into his lap. "You love me."

letters from author im spam posting unfinished drafts instead of doing my actual english essay... pls dont shadowban me again

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my-castles-crumbling · 2 days ago

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convince - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 465

It had all happened so fast. One second, he and James had been walking on rounds, just as they always did. Regulus had long ago stopped questioning why they always got paired together. Instead, he just focused on secretly enjoying the time, teasing the older boy relentlessly and laughing to himself about his more-ridiculous remarks.

He also tried not to think too much about the palpable tension between them. He tried not to wonder if it was just one-sided, or if James felt it, too: the heat, the need to reach out, the desire to never look away.

But one night, the elastic that was stretched so thin between them, holding them apart, just snapped.

And suddenly, he found himself in James Potter’s arms, their lips glued together.

It was so much, and not nearly enough, and he got lost in it. Lost in the way James’s fingertips traced the bare skin of his exposed waist from his slickly-rucked-up shirt. Lost in the way he could hear the other boy breathing heavily. Lost in the sensation of being surrounded.

So lost, that he did not hear footsteps until they were much too close.

“The fuck is this?”

And then they were both pulling away to see Sirius standing there, Remus behind him, both of them looking shocked.

In a split second of silence, Sirius turned away, storming off into the night.

His eyes met James’s before he gazed at the ground, and the older boy began to speak. “Regulus, I-”

“It’s alright,” he said flatly, the joyful feeling that had filled him moments before turning to ice in his veins as he closed himself off. How could he have been so stupid? James was straight, and popular, and a Gryffindor, and Sirius’s best friend. “I’ll..I’ll convince him it was all me. You don’t have to-”

“What? No!” James interrupted, sounding horrified. “What, you don’t want to do anything about this? You want to pretend it didn’t happen?”

Regulus looked back to him, and the look on his face made hope bubble back into his chest. “I…that’s not the point, Potter.”

“Well, I’m not going to,” James said, his lips forming a stubborn frown. “If you want to keep it a secret; if you don’t want to do anything, fine. But when Sirius asks, I’m going to tell him the truth.”

Regulus bit at his lip. “Which is?”

“That I fancy you. A lot, actually,” James said softly, smiling nervously.

“Oh,” he mumbled. “Okay.”

“Okay?” the older boy asked, grinning now.

“Yes,” he nodded, smiling a bit as well.

“Now, I think it’s best if we give Sirius some time to cool down. So maybe we get back to…” James suggested, smirking, slowly moving his hands towards Regulus’s waist.

“Yes, I think that’s best,” Regulus grinned.

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theolliesaurus · 1 day ago

Text

i'm so sorry,, op.

february this year will mark 10 years since i lost my dad - he passed away in his sleep from an aneurysm in his heart. yet i still remember when we got the phone call - it was the morning and my mum came to wake me up. the news didn't Hit until a later date. i didn't know how to cry when i first found it all out; that he'd passed 3 days prior to the call and was found face down in his bed,, that my sister was preparing to tell him the news of her then pregnancy.

i remember i got out of bed because my mum wanted me to follow her into my sister's room. my sister was sobbing buckets on the bed. and that was when my mum broke the news. i didn't outwardly react or start crying. i don't remember feeling much of anything. but my sister wanted me to come forwards when my mum left the room,, and she just pulled me in close and hugged me. but i still didn't cry.

the one thing i did was turn on my laptop and start watching a video to escape the news instead. but i still didn't yet cry.

but instead the funeral in march was where i broke.

what hurts the most is i never got to see him one last time,, nor did i ever get to say goodbye. and i still feel so guilty about not being able to communicate with him anymore because of the trauma of what he went through in past years,, with his sudden fall that lead to a triple heart bypass surgery,, to which he then would have to remain in a care home for the rest of his years as it excelled his huntington's to the point he couldn't live or care for himself anymore.

and because i no longer have him in my life,, i fear what will happen when i inevitably will lose my remaining parent or how i'll cope - my mum is my carer as i can't live independently due to disability,, there's things i can't do to take care of myself and skills i'm not able to learn.

which then sparks fears of what's going to happen to my sisters and to me,, because i'm planned to be transferred over to one if anything should happen to our mum,, and then transferred over to another if anything then happens to the sister who's first in line to care for me,, and so forth and so forth.....

but;

two or three of my favourite childhood memories that i look back on often include how my dad would take me shopping with him in the car into the next town,, and the shopping center had a little cafe next to it - the cafe had one of those coin-operated kiddie rides outside of it also (it was Scoop from "Bob the Builder"). so when we had finished shopping,, my dad then took me into the cafe and he bought me a cake to eat,, and then would let me play on that kiddie ride.

or there was a moment where we drove to the next town in the car,, and he stopped at one point to buy us a pastry each,, and we just sat in the car together eating our pastries.

or just the simplicity of being taken to the library to rent out a dvd on the weekends when he came to pick me up from my house. then we'd walk on down to his flat afterwards where i'd stay for a couple hours before bringing me back home. i'd play games on his computers,, or i'd take pictures with his photography camera out the back window.

or how when we'd make cakes down his flat,, he'd let me lick the mixture in the bowl and off the spoon. and how he'd let me help out with putting the roast chicken in the oven for dinner.

i still have a piece of his flat. a bit of his wallpaper that was ripped. and yet it's tucked away in a cupboard below my computer.

i have his photography camera that he left me. and yet i just can't bring myself to use it.

i had his computer from his care home that he wanted me to have - because i would always do drawings on it when i visited. it was the one physical thing i had left of him that felt alive. and yet i broke down when it suddenly didn't work anymore. now it sits tucked away in our storage cupboard downstairs; because i still can't part with it.

i still have some money that he inherited to me that i still haven't yet touched or done anything with.

it all still hurts.

and what hurts more is my mum offered for me to see his body in the coffin on the day of the funeral,, but i declined and said no.....

No one prepares you for how crippling grief is, last year my mom died of cancer. I watched her decline so rapidly that my brain couldn't understand who I was looking at by the time she passed. I couldn't understand who I was by the time she passed because I had to become a vessel who makes appointments, dresses, nurses, cooks and an entity who does not sleep. I did it all alone. The reality is that cancer eats away at everything, it lives on even after the patient dies. It ate away at every part of me, I couldn't get out of bed, I had sleep paralysis, I couldn't stop seeing her... like that. They asked me if she's my grandmother when they carried her out of the house. She was in her early 50s. Do you understand? In 3 months, she began to look like she was 80. Everyone wanted me to move on after a month, no one called anymore, not even a text. I thought I was alone when she was alive, but this was a new type of isolation. One that I barely survived. (thank you to my mutuals and tumblr for being an outlet)

It's been a year and 6 months, today I realized she's not the first thing I think of in the morning, or the last thing I think of before I fall asleep. I couldn't even call to do paperwork before, now I'm forgetting why it was even that difficult.

The sun's out, I think i'm going to get ice cream without feeling guilty that it's not something she can do anymore.

#grief tw #parent death tw #cancer tw #medical tw #long post

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captain-bubble-wrap · 1 day ago

Note

HELP ME PLEASE

Your quinn is literally my favorite!!!!!!!!!!! Can you write him and reader!girlfriend on the phone after the stars game? Your sweet/sad quinn is the best!!!!!!!!!

Oh, you're WAY TO KIND TO ME...! 🥹🥹 Let's see what I can do!

All you had texted was, "I love you."

Incoming Call: Quinny

Quinn's broken voice in that post-game interview had killed you. The way he had looked down before answering about how he was feeling, his thoughts on Millsy's trade, and how he was handling the noise of the dressing room as the team's captain -- it was obvious how much it all was affecting him. Unfortunately, you were twenty-two-hundred miles away, and you felt powerless to help him in any form.

"Hey, baby," you said upon answering the call.

Quinn's voice was low, and it was obvious he was beyond exhausted, body and mind, "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course." Your stomach tightened like you were about to receive some bad news. You hadn't heard him sound this way before and given how the day had gone, you knew it wasn't going to be a butterfly-inducing conversation.

"Let me get somewhere a little quieter. I need to hear your voice."

To you, he sounded desperate -- like he was at his breaking point. While you waited for him to walk to wherever he needed to be, you couldn't help but worry about him -- about what had caused him pain during the game, how losing JT and the others was weighing on him, and the stress of the upcoming tournament that was just four games away. You couldn't get the sad look of his face out of your mind. When was the last time he had actually had a good day, that he was happy without nagging stresses?

"Hey Mike, I'm gonna step out for a few minutes," Quinn said, obviously not talking to you. You couldn't hear the other man's reply but it must have been favourable as Quinn would finally start his conversation with you just a few seconds afterwards.

He sighed heavily, "I wish you were here. I-- I feel like everything is out of control and I don't know what to do."

The sound of wind was intertwined with his words. You wondered if he had stepped outside the arena to talk to you, somewhere to speak without listening ears.

"I wish I was there, too," you confessed, a pain growing in your heart. "You're trying to carry too much, baby."

"I have no choice, though."

You knew where he was coming from. The title of Captain meant you wore several hats, and sometimes more than one at a time. You knew he had all of them on at once. This season hadn't been easy, and something had you believing it wasn't going to get any better.

"I know," you mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he breathed out, feeling guilty for calling you when he was feeling like he was. "I'm sorry to put this on you. I just don't know what to do. Everyone is looking to me for answers and insight, but I don't have any. I don't know how to fix the team, I'm carrying as much as I can every night. I'm asked about what's going on behind closed doors and the temperature of the room and I'm over it. It's like the media just wants to keep stirring the pot instead of letting us just work it out. Now I'm being asked about if the team rebuilds what that means for my future in Vancouver. I-- I just-- I can't-- handle everything right now." Your heart was breaking hearing him on the brink of tears. His voice was cracking and shaky. "I need you."

"I wish I was there, sweetheart. I'd do anything I could to help you."

"I love you," his voice at a whisper.

"I love you, too, Quinn."

The first whimper made you cover your mouth to keep yourself from doing the same. Quinn rarely cried, at least not when you were around. To hear him finally drop that ultra-reserved demeanour of his was crushing.

"Oh honey, you'll be okay," you tried to reassure him, but they were words without certainty, you knew that. "You're doing the best you can, and you need to realise that you need to put yourself first sometimes. You're pushing yourself too much. It's not on you to solely fix the team, Quinn, though I know you're trying. I've never seen you this way before, and I'm scared it's going to break you."

He was silent on the other end, aside from his muffled cries. You didn't need him to say anything, though hearing his voice would have made you feel better, which made you remember what he had said to you earlier: "I need to hear your voice."

Maybe he just needed you to talk to him.

"One day at a time, baby, please. Be happy where you are, and what you have. You're doing all you can, and I need you to know that it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to be content with how things are. You know there are things out of your control, and you just have to let them work themselves out sometimes. You'll drive yourself crazy trying to put bandaids on everything. I don't want to lose you down that rabbit hole." You'd pause before adding one more thing, "I just want you to be okay."

Quietly you'd sit there and wait for a sign from him, or whatever it might be. A long moment of silence would follow your words, making you pull the phone away from your ear to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

"I miss you," he choked out, breaking the painful silence between the two of you.

"I miss you more, Quinn. I wish you were here."

"Me, too," he said, sharply inhaling, like he was trying to push those emotions back down and get over it. "Thank you for picking up everything -- the call, the pieces...me. I'd be so lost without you."

You'd shake your head, "You never have to thank me, baby. I just want to help you."

"I appreciate that," he sniffled. "I just wish I knew where to start."

"With yourself, Quinn," you said bluntly. "How are you feeling? I saw you take the stick to the head early."

It took him a few seconds to respond but you didn't mind, "I don't know, honestly. Between my hand and whatever is wrong with my leg, everything hurts. I'm tired. I'm drained. I wish I was home with you."

Everything he said carried so much weight and his emotions were so painfully honestly.

That was just Quinn.

He always spoke from his heart; wearing his heart on his sleeve every waking moment of his life. However this had a different air about it -- a nakedness. He was free to share his deepest fears with you, those raw feelings were bleeding from him with no hindrance. You appreciated that he felt so comfortable to open up like he was, and the fact that he was away from you, as well. Quinn didn't give the hint that he shared stuff like this with the guys on the team -- not like he did with you. You were different. He loved you -- you occupied a special piece of his heart like no on else did. That meant something special to him.

"You'll be home soon, baby. Just a little longer, okay?"

Through Quinn's end of line, someone was calling out to him, "C'mon Quinn-- the boy's are packing up, let's go."

You frowned hearing the empty orders, but you knew Quinn would have to end the call with you and head to the airport. There was always a sense of urgency after their games, especially the away ones.

"Yeah-- I'll be right there," he muttered, his voice dropping off at the end while he pretended to have himself together. "I'll call you when we get back to Vancouver."

"Be careful."

"I will," he paused. "Thanks, babe. For all that you do for me."

"Happy to help, Quinny. I love you."

For the first time, you heard his little giggle, "I love you, too."

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #💌maven's love notes

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pbaz7 · 3 hours ago

Text

ONE SHOT: THE BEST MEDICINE

paige x azzi

word count: 5.6k

A/N: This is just a cute little fluffy prompt that a few people have given me. Didn’t want to not post this weekend. Let me know what you think 🫶🏼

—————————————————————————

Azzi groaned as the sharp vibration of her phone rattled against her nightstand. Squinting at the bright screen, she barely registered Jana’s name before answering, her voice thick from sleep.

“Hello?”

Jana didn’t waste any time. “Your girlfriend is sick, and I swear I’m about to strangle her in two seconds.”

Azzi blinked, still groggy. “What?”

Jana sighed dramatically and Azzi can hear Paige coughing in the back. “She’s miserable but refusing to go back to bed or take medicine, snapping at everyone like it’s our fault she’s dying of the flu.”

Azzi chuckled, rubbing her face as she sat up. “Alright, tell her I’ll be there soon.”

“She better listen to you or we’re going to be in the portal for another point guard ,” Jana muttered before hanging up.

Shaking her head, Azzi threw off the blankets and got up to brush her teeth. She knew Paige could be the worst patient—stubborn, usually restless, and convinced she didn’t need help.

…

Azzi balanced the bag of soup in one hand and the medicine in the other as she pushed open the door to Paige’s suite. The room was dimly lit, and on the couch, curled up in a ball under a thick hoodie, was her very miserable-looking girlfriend. Paige’s nose was red, her eyes were glassy, and even from a distance, Azzi could hear the slight congestion in her breathing.

Azzi pouted dramatically as she stepped inside. “Hi, sickie.”

Paige barely lifted her head, her voice raspy as she mumbled, “I’m not sick.”

As if on cue, she let out a deep cough from her chest that sounded painful.

Azzi raised an eyebrow completely unconvinced. “Right.” She set the soup and medicine down on the table before walking over, reaching for Paige’s hand. “Come on, you need to be in bed, it's too cold out here.”

But Paige didn’t budge. Instead, she burrowed deeper into her hoodie, mumbling, “Too cold to get up.”

Azzi sighed, tilting her head at her girlfriend. “Paige.”

Silence. No movement. Just Paige pretending she hadn’t heard her.

Azzi huffed. “Alright, fine.” She reached for the bottle of medicine, twisting off the cap. “At least take this—”

Before she could finish, Paige suddenly shot up from the couch, the blanket slipping off of her and falling on the floor in the process. “Nope. Not taking that shit.” Her hoarse voice carried pure disdain as she turned and made a beeline for her room.

Azzi blinked, momentarily stunned at the speed of her popping up, before bursting into laughter. “Oh, now you have the energy to move?”

Shaking her head, she grabbed the soup and the rest of the medicine, trailing after Paige. As she stepped into the room, she kicked the door shut softly behind her, amusement still dancing in her eyes.

Azzi turned to find Paige completely cocooned under her blankets, only her head visible, her red nose and glassy eyes making her look even more pitiful. Azzi bit back a laugh knowing how sensitive Paige got when she was sick. She simply shook her head as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Come on, baby,” she coaxed, holding up the small bottle of medicine. “This is the only one that’s liquid. The rest are pills.”

Paige’s lips turned down into a deep pout. “No… it’s not tasty.”

Azzi snorted, unscrewing the cap. “It’s not going to be tasty, Paige. It’s medicine.”

Paige shook her head stubbornly, burrowing further into the covers. “Then I don’t want it.”

Azzi groaned, tilting her head back. “Paige, please.”

Paige hummed in response, her eyes closing dramatically, as if that would make the conversation go away.

Azzi exhaled through her nose, giving her a look. “Please, baby. You’re not gonna feel better if you don’t take it.”

“I am fine,” Paige mumbled, voice muffled by the blanket.

Azzi arched an eyebrow. “Really? ‘Cause you sound like you swallowed a cheese grater for breakfast.”

Paige cracked one eye open to glare at her. “Wow. That’s rude. You’re mean.”

Azzi smiled. “I’m just saying. You sound worse than you did in the background of the phone. And the coughing? Baby, it’s awful.”

Paige groaned, turning her face into the pillow like a child refusing to eat their vegetables. “I don’t wanna,” she whined, her voice hoarse.

Azzi softened, rubbing Paige’s back over the blanket. “I know, but you have to. Just one little sip, and I promise I’ll stop bugging you about it.”

Paige peeked up at her. “No, you won’t.”

Azzi grinned. “Okay, maybe not. But I’ll be really nice while I bug you.”

Paige narrowed her eyes, debating. Then, in a last-ditch effort, she tried a different approach. “What if I just sleep it off? I’ll feel better when I wake up.”

Azzi gave her a flat look. “You said that last night, and now you’re actually sick.”

Paige huffed. “It’s ‘cause y’all stressed me out when we were getting on the plane.”

Azzi laughed. “Oh, it’s our fault you’re sick now?”

“Yes,” Paige said decisively, crossing her arms under the blanket.

Azzi sighed, shaking her head. “You are so dramatic when you’re sick it’s actually insane.”

Paige just blinked up at her, silently. Stubborn.

Azzi finally pulled out her wild card, her voice turning more serious. “You know if you don’t get ahead of this, you’re gonna miss a game.”

That got Paige’s attention. She stilled, her brows furrowing as she stared at Azzi. “…What?”

Azzi shrugged. “If you don’t rest and actually take something, this’ll linger. And you know Geno isn’t letting you on the court if you’re anything close to this tomorrow.”

Paige opened her mouth like she wanted to argue, but no words came out. She knew Azzi was right.

A long, begrudging sigh left her lips. “…Fine,” she muttered, rolling onto her back like she’d just been handed a life sentence.

Azzi grinned, quickly pouring the medicine before Paige could change her mind. “See? Agreeing wasn’t so hard.”

Paige scowled. “I hate you.”

Azzi held the medicine out to her with a smirk. “I you too, sickie.”

Paige rolled her eyes but threw back the medicine quickly, making a dramatic face as she swallowed. She handed the little cup back to Azzi, shuddering. “That was disgusting.”

Azzi sat the cup aside, shaking her head. “You’re dramatic.”

She messed around with the rest of the medicine for a moment before handing Paige two pills along with the water bottle from her dresser. Paige took them with much less resistance, swallowing them with ease.

Azzi smiled. “Good girl.”

Paige shot her a glare. “Don’t.”

Azzi smirked but ignored her, moving to the bag she brought with her. “I got you soup.”

At this, Paige’s attention turned toward Azzi’s movements, watching as she pulled out the container and tried to hand it to her. But instead of taking it, Paige mumbled, “Can you feed me?”

Azzi gave her a look. “Your arms still work.”

Paige pouted dramatically. “You have to be nice to me. I’m sick.”

Azzi raised her eyebrows, amused. “Oh, so you admit it now?”

Paige sighed, sinking further into the blanket with a pout. “Only if it’ll get you to feed me.”

Azzi groaned but still got up to grab a spoon. “You’re so lucky I kinda like you.”

Paige grinned triumphantly, sitting up a little and scooting over to make room for Azzi on the bed. Azzi shook her head as she sat beside her, opening the soup container.

“Alright, big head. Open up,” she teased, holding up the spoon.

Paige just smirked. “See? Was being nice so hard? No hurry, I’m starving.”

Azzi shot Paige a look, and just like that, Paige’s smirk disappeared. She sat up a little straighter as Azzi lifted the spoon to her lips.

As soon as the soup touched her tongue, Paige flinched, mumbling, “Too hot.”

Azzi sighed, pulling the spoon back. “Maybe if you weren’t rushing me—”

“I’m starving!” Paige interrupted, slumping back into the pillows.

Azzi rolled her eyes but blew on the next spoonful before holding it out. “Better?”

Paige took the bite, nodding in satisfaction. “Mhm. See? This is what good girlfriends do.”

Azzi snorted. “Oh, so now I’m a good girlfriend?”

Paige batted her eyelashes. “The best.”

Azzi chuckled, scooping up another spoonful and blowing on it again. “Uh-huh. You’re just saying that ‘cause I’m feeding you.”

Paige grinned lazily. “And it’s working.”

Azzi shook her head, amused, as she carefully fed Paige another bite. “You are so spoiled.”

Paige hummed contentedly. “I sure am.”

Azzi gave her a look. “And if I weren’t here?”

Paige blinked at her innocently. “Jana.”

Azzi nearly choked on a laugh. “Jana said she was about to strangle you.”

Paige shrugged. “She doesn’t mean that. She s me.”

“Oh, she definitely meant it.”

Paige stuck her tongue out before lazily leaning against Azzi’s shoulder. “Mmm, don’t want anymore.”

Azzi glanced at the half-full container. “You barely ate anything.”

Paige sighed dramatically. “That’s all my body can handle.”

Azzi gave her a flat look. “Paige.”

Paige nuzzled further into Azzi’s side, her voice growing sleepier. “Mmm. Just wanna lay here with you.”

Azzi sighed, setting the soup aside. “You’re lucky I you.”

Paige smiled as she whispered, “I know. Super lucky.”

Azzi set the soup container on the dresser and gave Paige a soft smile as she reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside. She knew Paige always liked to feel her skin when she was sick—said it brought comfort.

Paige, already settled on the bed, instinctively shifted closer, her body curling against Azzi's side as Azzi laid down. Without hesitation, Paige pressed her cheek to Azzi’s chest, content with the warmth. Azzi wrapped an arm around her, running her fingers gently through Paige’s messy hair.

The room fell into a peaceful silence for a while, broken only by the soft rhythm of their breathing. Azzi’s fingers moved lazily, threading through Paige’s hair as she murmured, “You always like it when I do this, huh? You close your big mouth every time.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Paige hummed lazily, her voice muffled against Azzi’s skin. “It’s... soothing.”

Azzi smiled, the warmth in her chest deepening. “It’s a nice change of pace from you being so dramatic.”

Paige let out a little whine, shifting to nestle further into Azzi’s chest. “I’m not dramatic. I just feel crappy.”

Azzi laughed quietly. “Baby you’re the drama queen of our relationship. I’ve had to deal with that for a while now. Not just when you’re sick.”

Paige lifted her head slightly to send Azzi a sleepy, half-lidded glare. “You still like me anyway so,” she muttered, but there was a smile tugging at her lips despite the exhaustion in her voice.

Azzi chuckled, running her fingers down the back of Paige’s neck. “I do, I do. But I swear, every time you get sick, you act like you’re dying or somebody killed our dog .”

Paige pouted, clearly not having the energy for a witty retort. “I might be dying,” she grumbled softly. “You never know with these things...”

Azzi rolled her eyes, shifting so that Paige was more comfortably nestled against her. “You’re not dying. You just need to rest and maybe close your mouth for once.”

Paige sighed, her breath soft against Azzi’s skin. “I hate being sick. I just wanna feel better already.”

Azzi smiled down at her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I know, baby. But you’re going to get better.”

Paige stayed silent for a few moments, just breathing in the comfort of Azzi’s warmth, her eyelids fluttering. After a while, she mumbled, “You’re nice to me when I’m sick.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, smirking playfully. “I’m always nice to you.”

Paige shook her head, burrowing her face further into Azzi’s chest. “No... not always,” she murmured, clearly fighting sleep. “Sometimes you’re mean.”

Azzi laughed softly, a sound filled with the kind of affection she only had for Paige. “Am I? How so?”

Paige’s voice was so quiet now, almost a whisper. “You make fun of me when I’m weak...”

Azzi paused, her smile softening. She ran her fingers through Paige’s hair, feeling the weight of the words sink in. “You’re not weak, Paige. You’re just... human. And I love you no matter what.”

Paige let out a small, content sigh, the fight to stay awake slipping away. “I love you too.”

Azzi’s heart melted at the softness in Paige’s words. She leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Paige’s forehead. “I know beautiful.”

Paige shifted slightly, eyes fluttering open for a second. “I don’t want to talk anymore,” she said, her words a little slurred from drowsy medicine. “I’m just... sleepy.”

Azzi smiled fondly at her. “You’re so cute when you’re delirious.”

Paige gave a half-hearted protest, but it was obvious her energy was spent. “I’m not delirious... I’m just...” She trailed off, her words losing meaning as her eyes began to drift shut again.

Azzi smirked, brushing a stray strand of hair from Paige’s face. “Just what?” she teased softly, though she knew Paige wasn’t going to respond with anything of value.

Paige’s voice, now more muffled as she nuzzled into Azzi’s chest, barely made it out. “I’m just... not sick anymore... after a nap.”

Azzi chuckled quietly, stroking Paige’s hair again. “Yeah, right.”

Paige’s breathing had slowed to a peaceful rhythm, and Azzi could feel the weight of her body relax further. Azzi held her closer, whispering, “Get some rest, baby. I’m right here.”

Paige let out a tiny, satisfied sound, and her body finally stilled in the comfort of Azzi’s embrace.

Azzi massaged her head for a few more minutes, watching Paige’s steady breathing, the soft rise and fall of her chest. She kissed the top of Paige’s head once more and whispered, “I love you.”

A soft snore was the only response, and Azzi smiled softly as she closed her eyes.

…

Azzi had been lying there awake for a while, absentmindedly running her fingers through Paige’s hair as she slept. It was now pretty late in the day and the room was quiet except for the soft hum of the heater and the occasional rustle of the blankets as Paige shifted against her. At first, Azzi thought nothing of how much she was moving—Paige had been exhausted, and it was normal for her to move a little in her sleep.

But as time passed, Azzi started to notice something was off. Paige was shifting more, her breathing had grown uneven. Her forehead lying on Azzi’s chest, which had been warm before, was now burning up.

Azzi furrowed her brows, brushing her fingers across Paige’s damp hairline. Paige was practically sweating through her shirt, her skin sticky with heat. Azzi tried soothing her again, running gentle fingers through Paige’s hair, whispering softly.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay. Just relax.”

For a moment, Paige stilled, melting back into Azzi’s chest. But soon enough, she started shifting again, her face scrunching up in discomfort, her body restless.

Azzi let out a quiet sigh, brushing the damp strands of hair away from Paige’s forehead before leaning down to press a soft kiss against it. “You’re burning up,” she murmured.

Paige let out a small whimper in her sleep, turning her head slightly, but she didn’t wake.

Azzi frowned, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Paige’s back before finally deciding it was time to wake her up. She tightened her arm around Paige slightly and nudged her gently. “Paige, baby, wake up.”

Paige groaned in protest, her body still heavy.

Azzi kissed her temple before whispering again, this time a little firmer. “Come on, sickie. You’re overheating.”

Paige mumbled something incoherent, her voice thick with exhaustion, but Azzi could feel how warm she was. She needed to cool her down.

Azzi sighed, rubbing small circles into Paige’s damp back under the hoodie. “Paige. Wake up for me please, baby.”

This time, Paige stirred a little more, blinking sluggishly as she let out a tired, hoarse sound. “Mm... wha’?”

Azzi brushed a hand across her cheek, feeling the heat radiating off her skin. “You’re too hot, love. You need to take off your hoodie and drink some water.”

Paige groaned, burying her face back into Azzi’s chest like a stubborn child. “Don’t wanna baby,” she murmured with her raspy voice before letting out some awful sounding coughs.

Azzi let out a soft laugh despite her concern. “I know, baby, but you’re basically cooking in this hoodie.” She nudged Paige’s shoulder lightly. “Come on, let’s get it off, and I’ll grab you some cold water.”

Paige made another sleepy, reluctant sound but finally, slowly, peeled herself away from Azzi’s chest that was a little damp from where Paige was laying. She blinked at her through heavy, glassy eyes before weakly lifting her arms. “You do it please.”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head as she sat up slightly, carefully tugging the hoodie and shirt over Paige’s head. It was damp from her sweat, which only made Azzi more certain that Paige needed to cool off.

“There,” Azzi murmured, balling up the hoodie and tossing it to the floor before reaching for the water bottle on the nightstand. She unscrewed the cap and held it out. “Drink some.”

Paige took the bottle with sluggish movements, taking a few small sips before sighing and leaning back against Azzi’s chest. “Still hot,” she mumbled.

Azzi smirked, pressing a kiss to Paige’s temple. “Yeah, you are.”

Paige let out a weak laugh, swatting lazily at Azzi’s arm. “Shut up.”

Azzi smirked, brushing her fingers along Paige’s warm cheek. “Do you wanna shower?” she asked gently.

Paige let out a sleepy hum in response, her eyes barely open.

Azzi took that as a yes, pressing a soft kiss to Paige’s temple before murmuring, “Okay, just lay down for a little longer. I’ll get everything ready.”

As she slid out of bed, Paige immediately curled back into the blankets, making herself small against the pillows. Azzi shook her head fondly before heading to the dresser, pulling out a pair of soft boxers and one of Paige’s favorite shirts for her to wear after the shower.

With the clothes in hand, she made her way out of the room, only to be met by Aubrey lingering near the hallway.

“Are you almost done playing nurse?” Aubrey said her arms crossed as she leaned against the wall. “I miss my bookie and I need a hug.”

Azzi rolled her eyes as she passed by. “I’ll kick your knee in Aubrey.”

Aubrey snorted, shaking her head as Azzi disappeared into the bathroom.

Once inside, Azzi set the clothes down and turned on the shower, letting the water heat up. She reached for a eucalyptus shower steamer, unwrapping it before placing it under the stream, watching as it started to dissolve, releasing its scent into the air. The steam quickly filled the bathroom, curling into the air as the eucalyptus aroma spread.

Satisfied with the setup, Azzi grabbed a fresh towel and hung it within reach before heading back to Paige’s room.

She stopped in the doorway, biting back a laugh when she saw Paige had fallen asleep again. She was sprawled out on the bed, her head barely peeking from the blankets, looking utterly exhausted.

Azzi sighed, shaking her head as she pulled out her phone. She took a quick picture, a smirk tugging at her lips. Paige is definitely going to kill her for that later.

Throwing her phone on the dresser, she stepped forward and gently brushed a few damp strands of hair from Paige’s forehead.

“Paige, baby, wake up,” she murmured softly.

Paige stirred, her nose scrunching up as she let out a sleepy groan. “Five more minutes please,” she mumbled.”

Azzi chuckled, brushing her thumb across Paige’s warm cheek. “You literally just agreed to shower. Don’t start backtracking now.”

Paige sighed dramatically but slowly blinked up at her, her blue glassy eyes still heavy. “Mmm, but I was so comfy.”

Azzi grinned, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I know, baby, but you’re all sweaty. You’ll feel better after, I promise.”

Paige pouted but didn’t argue this time, instead letting Azzi help her sit up. As soon as she was upright, she let her head fall onto Azzi’s shoulder with a quiet sigh.

“You’re too good to me,” she murmured.

Azzi smiled, her hand rubbing slow, gentle circles along Paige’s back. “Yeah, yeah. Now come on, before you fall asleep again.”

Paige hummed in response but allowed Azzi to help her up, leaning into her warmth as they made their way to the bathroom together.

Azzi leaned against the sink, arms crossed as she watched Paige sluggishly step into the shower. The steam curled around her, and for a second, Paige just stood under the spray, her shoulders sagging in relief.

But then she turned, blinking at Azzi before sticking out her bottom lip in a pout.

“Come in with me.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “This shower’s supposed to be for you.”

Paige pouted deeper, her glassy eyes now wide as she leaned against the shower wall dramatically. “M’ too weak. I can’t. I need help,” she said while attempting her best puppy dog eyes.

Azzi scoffed. “Nice try, baby—”

Paige sniffled, her lip trembling slightly as she kept her gaze locked on Azzi. With her damp hair sticking to her forehead and her flushed cheeks, she somehow looked even more pitiful than Azzi thought was possible.

Azzi groaned, already feeling herself cave. “You are so damn manipulative.”

Paige only blinked innocently.

Sighing in defeat, Azzi shook her head. “Fine, fine.” She tugged off her clothes, grabbing a hair tie from the counter and quickly twisting her hair up into a bun. “But I swear, if you try anything, I’m leaving you in here.”

Paige barely reacted, her arms already reaching for Azzi as she stepped in.

The second Azzi was in the shower fully, Paige latched onto her, her arms winding tight around Azzi’s waist as she buried her face in her neck.

Azzi huffed a laugh, wrapping her arms loosely around Paige in return. “How am I supposed to help you if you’re latched onto me like this?”

Paige mumbled something against her shoulder, her voice barely audible over the water.

Azzi sighed, rubbing a slow hand up and down Paige’s back. “What was that?”

Paige nuzzled closer, her breath warm against Azzi’s skin. “Just five minutes,” she mumbled sleepily.

Azzi shook her head with a small smile, resting her cheek against the top of Paige’s damp hair. “Whatever.”

Paige’s “five minutes” had turned into something much longer, and Azzi was almost certain she had dozed off for a moment. At one point her breathing had slowed, and she even swayed slightly, forcing Azzi to tighten her hold to keep her upright.

Eventually, Azzi sighed, pressing a kiss to Paige’s damp forehead. “Alright, sickie, time to actually shower.”

Paige groaned, not lifting her head from Azzi’s shoulder. “M’tired.”

Azzi laughed softly. “Yeah, I noticed.” She reached for the shampoo, squeezing some into her hands before gently lathering it into Paige’s hair. Paige hummed at the sensation, her body still slack against Azzi’s.

“Y’know,” Azzi started, working the shampoo through Paige’s blonde hair, “I think you might be the neediest sick person on earth.”

Paige, eyes still closed, barely reacted. “Not true.”

Azzi chuckled. “You literally manipulated me into showering with you.”

Paige cracked one eye open. “I was using my resources.”

Azzi snorted, shaking her head as she scrubbed her fingers along Paige’s scalp. “You’re unreal.”

Paige let out a quiet sigh, tilting her head slightly into Azzi’s touch. “Feels nice.”

Azzi smiled softly, her fingers slowing as she massaged gently. “Good.”

For a few minutes, they stayed like that, talking in quiet murmurs as Azzi washed Paige’s hair. But when Azzi reached for the showerhead to rinse, she suddenly burst out laughing.

Paige frowned, eyes barely open. “What?”

Azzi pointed. “Your nose is running. You look so cute.”

Paige blinked, reaching up sluggishly to swipe at it. She let out a dramatic whine, turning her face into Azzi’s shoulder. “Stop laughing at me. You’re being mean.”

Azzi, still chuckling, rubbed soothing circles on Paige’s back. “I’m literally washing your hair. How am I being mean?”

Paige huffed, but she didn’t argue, her arms tightening around Azzi’s waist.

Once Azzi finished rinsing Paige’s hair, she repeated the process with the conditioner, her fingers gliding gently through the strands. Paige, still half-asleep, barely moved, only murmuring a quiet “thank you” as Azzi worked.

When her hair was fully washed, Azzi grabbed the loofah, squeezing some soap onto it before handing it to Paige. “Alright, drama queen, last step.”

Paige took it with both hands, blinking at it as if it weighed a hundred pounds and Azzi was asking her to do the impossible. Azzi smiled as she watched Paige sluggishly drag it across her arm, her movements slow and lazy.

Shaking her head fondly, Azzi leaned against the shower wall, watching Paige struggle through her own shower routine. “You’re adorable.”

Paige shot her a tired glare, but it held no real heat. “M’not. I’m sexy.”

Azzi grinned. “You sure are, baby.”

Paige rolled her eyes weakly as she continued to wash herself.

As soon as they stepped out of the shower a bit later, Paige grabbed a towel, rubbing it over her damp skin before letting out a pitiful sigh. “Baby…”

Azzi, already drying off, glanced over. “What?”

Paige’s bottom lip jutted out just a little. “Lotion me.”

Azzi scoffed, shaking her head as she reached for the bottle even as she said, “No.”

Paige grinned, completely unbothered. “You will because you love me.”

Azzi muttered something under her breath as she squirted lotion into her hands, rubbing them together before kneeling in front of Paige. “Alright, princess, hold still.”

Paige hummed happily, choosing to ignore the nickname, as Azzi smoothed the lotion over her legs, then up her arms and shoulders. When Azzi got to her back, she let out a small sigh, enjoying the feeling of Azzi’s hands working gently against her skin.

Azzi, however, was mumbling the whole time. “You’re so lucky I swear. What kind of grown woman begs to be lotioned?”

Paige, grinning, tilted her head back dramatically. “A very smart one.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but continued, making sure Paige was moisturized before finally stepping back. “There. Happy?”

Paige smiled, grabbing her boxers and shirt. “Very.”

As she pulled her clothes on, she reached for the towel, handing it to Azzi. “Here. Since someone forgot to bring clothes in here.”

Azzi snatched the towel with narrowed eyes. “Someone was too busy taking care of their needy girlfriend and I was even supposed to get in with you.”

Paige just shot her a smug look before walking out of the bathroom.

Azzi followed, wrapping the towel around herself as they made their way back to the room. As soon as they stepped inside, Paige flopped onto the bed, lazily watching as Azzi grabbed her own lotion and began rubbing it onto her arms and legs.

A slow smirk spread across Paige’s lips. “Damn.”

Azzi raised a brow. “What?”

Paige’s eyes flickered over her, gaze appreciative. “You just look good doing that.”

Azzi huffed, shaking her head as she continued. “You’re ridiculous.”

Paige grinned. “Just being honest.”

Azzi ignored her, finishing up before slipping on some clothes. But as soon as she was dressed, she made her way to the nightstand, grabbing the medicine with a smug grin.

Paige’s smile immediately dropped.

Azzi turned, shaking the bottle with a huge smile. “Time for round two.”

Paige groaned, flopping back onto the bed dramatically. “I hate you.”

Azzi smirked, walking over. “No, you don’t.”

Paige peeked her eyes open, already pouting. “I do right now.”

Azzi chuckled to herself shaking her head at the dramatic groan that left Paige’s lips.

"You act like I’m torturing you," Azzi teased, shaking the little measuring cup as she poured the thick liquid into it.

Paige turned her head away stubbornly. "I don’t want it."

Azzi sighed, tilting her head. "Paige Madison."

At the sound of her full name, Paige let out a loud huff, reluctantly sitting up just enough to take the tiny cup from Azzi’s hands. She threw it back quickly, grimacing as she swallowed, before thrusting the empty cup back at Azzi with a deep scowl.

Azzi smiled sweetly. "Thank you."

Paige narrowed her eyes. "I hate you."

Azzi only grinned wider, unfazed. "No, you don’t."

Paige huffed again but didn’t argue, slumping back against the pillows.

Azzi brushed a few strands of hair out of Paige’s face before softly asking, "Are you hungry?"

Paige barely opened one eye, her face still scrunched up from the medicine. "No."

Azzi exhaled, tapping her fingers gently against Paige’s shoulder. "Can you try to eat something for me?"

Paige groaned, shaking her head as she clung to Azzi’s arm. "Don’t wanna. Just wanna cuddle."

Azzi sighed in defeat, but there was a fond smile on her lips. "Okay, pretty," she murmured, reaching for the two pills she had set aside. She handed them to Paige, along with a water bottle. "At least take these first."

Paige wordlessly took the pills, swallowing them with a sip of water before tossing the bottle aside and immediately grabbing at the hem of Azzi’s shirt. She tugged insistently, mumbling, "Off."

Azzi raised an eyebrow but didn’t fight it, pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it to the side. As soon as the fabric was gone, Paige wasted no time in curling up against her, pressing her cheek against Azzi’s bare skin with a content sigh.

"You’re so needy when you’re sick," Azzi teased, wrapping an arm around Paige’s waist.

"Sshh. M’ comfy," Paige murmured sleepily, nuzzling closer.

Azzi ran her fingers through Paige’s damp hair, letting the quiet settle between them. After a few moments, she softly said, "You know, if you ate something, you’d probably feel better faster."

Paige whined into her chest, shaking her head. "Don’t wanna."

Azzi smirked. "You’re impossible."

Paige’s lips barely curled into a small, tired smile. "You still like me so I don’t care."

Azzi pressed a kiss to the top of Paige’s head, her voice softer now. "Yeah, I do."

Paige hummed in satisfaction, her breathing growing heavier as Azzi’s fingers continued threading through her hair. The rise and fall of her chest slowed, her words becoming more incoherent.

Azzi smiled when Paige mumbled something almost too softly to hear. "What was that, baby?"

Paige barely lifted her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I said… you smell nice."

Azzi let out a small laugh. "Thank you."

Paige lifted her head slightly, her heavy-lidded eyes flickering to Azzi’s lips. Azzi immediately caught on, already knowing what Paige was about to ask before she even said it.

"I wanna kiss," Paige murmured, her voice still raspy from being sick.

Azzi sighed, shaking her head. "I’m gonna get sick, baby."

Paige pouted dramatically. "I’ll take care of you."

Azzi snorted, giving her an unimpressed look. "You can’t even take care of yourself right now."

Paige huffed, her lips twitching slightly. "Well, with you, it’s different."

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the small smile on Paige’s face made it impossible for her to say no. She sighed in defeat. "Fine, commere.”

Paige’s grin widened just before Azzi leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. It was gentle, lingering just long enough for Paige to let out a small, content sigh against her mouth.

When Azzi pulled back, Paige was already giving her a goofy, smile. "One more," she mumbled.

Azzi shook her head but indulged her anyway, meeting her lips again. This time, Paige took it a step further, sliding her tongue past Azzi’s lips in a way that made Azzi swear she wanted to kill her.

"You’re unbelievable," Azzi mumbled against her lips, but she didn’t pull away—not until she actually needed air. When she finally did, she groaned, dropping her forehead against Paige’s. "I’m definitely going to be sick now."

Paige only smiled, looking far too pleased with herself. "Worth it."

Azzi scoffed, but before she could say anything, Paige was already tugging her into a laying position, wrapping herself around Azzi as she rested her head on her chest.

Azzi sighed, threading her fingers through Paige’s hair again. "You’re such a pain in my ass."

…

The soft glow of the TV flickered across the room as the basketball game played on, the commentators’ voices blending into a low hum. Paige had insisted they watch, using her sickness as an excuse to get her way. Azzi, of course, had relented—because there was no winning against a sick and pouty Paige.

But after some time, Azzi noticed Paige’s breathing was slowing, her body growing heavier against her own. A telltale sign that she was drifting off.

Azzi glanced down, smiling as she saw Paige’s eyes fluttering closed, her lips slightly parted in sleep. Shaking her head fondly, Azzi reached for the remote, turning off the TV. She pressed a lingering kiss to Paige’s forehead, mumbling, “Goodnight, sickie.”

From the depths of sleep, Paige barely mumbled, “M’not sick.”

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at the blatant lie. “Right,” she murmured sarcastically, closing her eyes.

Before she could fully settle, Paige weakly reached up and pinched her side—a lazy, half-hearted protest. Azzi rolled her eyes, gently swatting Paige’s hand away.

“Go to sleep big head,” she whispered.

Paige didn’t respond this time, already too far gone. Azzi sighed, wrapping her arms a little tighter around her, letting the warmth of Paige’s body lull her into sleep.

Paige, as expected, drifted off first, her breathing soft and steady against Azzi’s skin. Azzi stayed awake a little longer, listening to the peaceful rhythm of it, before finally closing her own eyes, letting sleep take her too.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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soleilapproves · 19 hours ago

Text

ex-convict!sukuna tries to talk to burnt out!reader about her feelings but she dismisses him. not proofread, sorry :(

prompt for more context

Anxiety lathered your back in cold sweat as you received your exam sheet from your TA, not bothering to look twice at your haphazard state before moving on to the next person.

You knew there was a reason why your paper was given to you faced down while your friend received hers with bright red numbers beaming up at her. You knew it was just your insecurity speaking to you, but it really did feel like the entire classroom of seventy-five people were staring at you. Even if your seat was all the way in the corner and Sukuna’s faded brown leather jacket basically cloaked you into invisibility.

You weren’t sure how you accidentally snagged it in the first place, all you remember was that you had slept with him the night before an important exam and rushed out with his jacket instead of your oversized hoodie that you sported for the Walk of Shame. It was the only thing comforting you at the moment. The familiar smell of nicotine and wet grass clouded your senses as you imagined him holding you close with his fingers stuffed in your cunt and his lips on your neck after yet another failure.

Just how many times were you going to go to him to comfort yourself? It was starting to become a habit that shaved you to your bones.

Your chest tightened as the ceiling got lower and lower to the point where you could feel the bright fluorescent lights burning the brittle hair on your scalp. The brick walls engulfed you till yours bones crunched and your muscles tightened.

Without thinking twice, you grabbed your worn denim satchel as you silently raced out the lecture hall, trembling like a fawn. Your boots splashed against the wet ground as you walked towards the back of the building and slid down on the wall while hugging yourself.

Your closed palm held your failure. Your crushed and creased exam sheet. A part of you wanted to grind it to nothing under your boots, but a part of you still had a sense of accountability so you shoved it in Sukuna’s jacket.

While fishing around in his pockets, you found two very interesting things—a leaf of acetaminophen tablets, and a pack of cigarettes. You knew he smoked with the way his jacket smelled but you’d never seen him do it. The leaf of tablets led you to believe that he must’ve been trying to quit.

You’d never been a smoker, always worried that you’d get addicted once you started, becoming a slave to the little white cylinder, but today was different. It was your last chance at passing the class. The last quiz you could get good grade on before failing the entire class even after giving the final.

You assumed he could always quit faster with one less cigarette in the box so you decided to look for a lighter and found one in his inner pocket.

“What the fuck are you doing?” A large, tattooed hand snatched the cigarette and lighter from your grasp. Sukuna stared at you like you’d betrayed him. You groaned to yourself as you rubbed a hand down your face. You’d forgotten you had texted him to pick you up after class.

This confrontation was of your own design.

“Smoking, what do you think? Give that back,” you got up and tried to snatch it away, but he had managed to grab the box from you as well and thrown it down on the ground, immediately crushing it with his boots.

“I can’t believe you’d destroy pricey cigarettes like that,” you quipped as you shrugged off his jacket, but he grabbed on to your shoulders, preventing you from doing so. “It’s cold.”

Of course, a man of few words when it finally came to talking about something than yourself. “Come on, I’ll drop you home,” his large hand grabbed yours as he briskly walked to his jeep that was parked nearby.

Like clockwork, you pulled him into a rough kiss as he got into the driver’s seat, but he pulled away, a string of saliva thinning into air as held you in place by your shoulders. “What’s wrong?” Your usual routine with him was very predictable—you’d call him to let out some stress, make out a little in his car once he’d come and get you, then go to his place.

Not once had he complained, except for a few instances where he’d insist on fucking you after making you come, not even bothering to ask you to return the favor; a strange occurrence for a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement. Especially with someone as rugged as him.

Usually jail would harden a man up, turn him into an insensitive boor, but it felt the opposite when he’d treat you rather gently: a hand on the small of your back as you’d try to get into his monstrous jeep, or checking in with you after you’d pass out as soon as he pulls out.

It was unexpected yet strangely welcoming.

“You look terrible,” he grimaces. Your cold sweat begins to dry up with the heat of your rage. “Wow. I know I’m not the hottest girl out there, but you really didn’t need to rub it in. I’m out.” He grabs your satchel before you can leave with it. It hangs between you both much like your relationship.

“Don’t get out. I didn’t mean it like that. You just… look really tired.”

You stare at him for a long time before you place your bag back in your lap. You stare ahead at the expanse of fir trees and grass as you lean back in your seat. “Since when did you care about any of that? Let’s just go to your place.”

“When was the last time you had a full night’s rest?” he asked as he started his car. He snatched your satchel and threw it in the backseat. A usual practice for him, although, it was you in the back with him while your bag sat in the front.

“Why are we even talking about this? You’re being weird.” Sukuna’s knuckles turn white at your comment, gripping the steering wheel harder. Your mind races about all the possible ways he could kill you right now. You never really argued with him because you were too afraid to see what he’d be like with his patience on its final thread.

However, you pushed that line today. He was over the edge. You could tell with the way his brows furrowed and his lips flattened ever so slightly. The jeep hadn’t picked up speed. Thank goodness for that.

“You’re in college. You need to take care of yourself,” he flatly said as he made a turn towards his apartment complex.

“Why do you care? You’re not my bo—“

There it was. The taboo word. He sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend, but he didn’t like the reminder of it either. Only replying to you in grunts and hums when you’d say it. And it wasn’t like you both were that talkative with each other in the first place.

“I’m just worried about you.”

Now he was crossing the line. A boundary you built with ever so shaky hands, so thin that you’d topple over to him if he’d show the least bit affection. You knew he wanted in. You could tell with the way he’d hold your face when his lips would slot themselves on yours. When you’d taste yourself on his tongue.

But you couldn’t let him. It wasn’t right. You’re both fucked up, albeit, in different degrees, but still very messed up with the things going on in your lives.

You did not want him to know what really went on in your mind. Never open the door for a stranger. Even if he knows all about how your body sings for him when he caresses your core.

“Stop the car.”

“What the fuck? We’re about to reach.”

“I said, stop the car. I’m gonna walk home.”

“It’s raining, at least let me drop you off.”

“Stop the car or I’ll jump out.”

You didn’t look back at Sukuna’s face as you walked away. Nor did you tell him that you’d see him later. You both knew he would. Your texts would always come in when you’d be feeling even lower than you presently were.

And then from Sukuna’s jacket (that you were still wearing), you took out a singular, slightly bent cigarette.

—

more ex-convict!sukuna fics

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atiyasnake · 15 minutes ago

Text

As predicted, I wrote some more (1,143 more words). TW for mentions of blood and vomiting.

On The television Gotham watched as the Joker smiled with glee at this ‘supposed Wayne’. It was hard to believe considering how many black-haired and blue-eyed children there were. Either way, it was with waited breath that they watched what was about to happen to the Joker's latest victim.

When the Joker finally released the kid’s face he pranced around on the screen before reaching off to the side to grab something. A modified gas makes came into view. A crude drawing with red and white paint of a familiar smile was on the front.

With resignation, they watched as the Joker roughly put it on the boy’s face.

__________

The mask was tight. It dug into Danny’s skin and pulled at his hair from the straps the Joker roughly pulled over his head. In comparison, it wasn’t as bad as what he had grown used to. Still, he wanted to rip the damn thing off.

Instead, a hand gripped his hair and yanked, showing his face again to the camera. The Joker hummed before caressing his hair and then clapping with a laugh.

“Now! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you a front-row seat to a new treat I’ve made with my dear dear friends,” the Joker said as he showboated in front of the camera while a couple of men stood off the side.

He was getting tired of this shit. He didn’t want to be anyone’s show pony, he had enough of it with Vlad.

The Joker kept talking with little chuckles in between, and with each one Danny clenched his jaw more and more.

“Now let the show begin!”

Suddenly, there was a hissing sound from the mask and reflexively Danny tried to hold his breath. He had heard about the different gases in Gotham before in short mentions in the news. He’d rather not test anything. He had enough experience with all sorts of ‘concoctions’ and their ‘interesting effects’.

Though, as expected, whether it be scientists or rogues in Gotham they didn’t like to see him be stubborn. So with a snap of the Joker’s fingers, a swift punch was delivered into his gut and Danny couldn't help but gasp and try to take another breath.

A sickly sweet and rotten smell filled his nose, making him gag which only made it worse.

At first, it didn’t do anything, but slowly his chest began to hurt and there was a warmth inside. The Joker laughed, monologuing to the camera and the warmth began to burn.

Danny had already been hurting. He’s been continuously hurting for far longer than he’d care to think about. He knew the routine. He knew how this went.

Stay quiet.

Keep still.

It’ll pass.

He tried to keep telling himself this when the echoes of screams started.

Danny didn’t know how much time passed as he just kept still. The fire was burning underneath his skin and he could feel it leaking out of his nose and mouth. There were still men around and the red dot of a camera looking towards him. He kept quiet and a bigger hand grabbed his hair, pulling it enough to make his neck strain as he was still tied down to the chair.

Then suddenly shadows rained down with shattering glass and all hell broke loose.

The hand retreated but another pulled his chair down and he fell to his side, his head knocking into the ground. Another point where fire leaked out while the mask dug into his cheek. He could only watch around him.

There was yelling and laughter. The sound of crackling of electricity sent phantom spasms down his limbs as the echo of screams reached a higher pitch.

There were so many shadows moving around. The grunting sound of bodies surrounded him.

At some point, he felt the restraints fall away but still, he didn’t move.

Be still. Be still. Be still. Be still bestill bestill bestillbestill bestillbestillbestill.

Except a hand was reaching for his face.

The mask straps tugged at his hair as it was slipped off. It no longer dug into his face. The gas was taken away. Except whenever they take away the mask it's for something worse. They lure you into a false sense of relief only to rip it away. So he did what he always did.

He got his mouth on the closest hand near his face and he bit down.

They hated when he did that in the lab. They’d scream for ‘it’ to let go. He never let go unless they made him.

Danny knew how this went. He clenched his jaw shut harder and felt something begin to give beneath his teeth. He couldn’t taste whatever it was given his mouth full of his own burning blood. He still didn’t let go.

He could barely see past it all but he would not let go. He couldn’t, he was burning inside and out and the screams were pulling at him. Hands were reaching out to him but then there was an explosion and they were blown back.

His body rolled and he caught himself hitting something before scrambling onto all fours. Fire was licking at his throat and he couldn’t stop it from coming up. He hacked and coughed as something wet and hot filled his mouth. The taste of iron and the sight of red on his skin were far too familiar.

It was ironic. This weird ‘concoction’ seemed to make him bleed just like the lab did. Just when Danny thought he finally got away. He chuckled.

Light and shadows danced off to the side. Two of them looked like they had pointy ears and one of those looked like it had wings. They moved swiftly and gracefully around each other, never straying too far as if they were bound back together by some unseen force.

Huh.

The light caught on something and Danny found himself looking at the camera, its red light still lit. His limbs shook as he grabbed the camera, it was surprisingly high quality and he couldn't help but laugh lightly. Still, the button to turn it off was the same. Someone was running towards him and he threw the camera chuckling again when it hit their head and they dropped though he had to stop when he coughed up more blood that burned.

It hurt.

The room wouldn’t stop shifting as the colors warped around him with stains of black. His chest was in agony and pressing his head against the floor and curling up wouldn’t stop it. The whispers and screams were coming back again, reaching out to grab a hold. His throat kept spasming with each cough that wouldn’t let him get rid of the taste of iron.

He couldn't do anything but let the agony and darkness take hold.

Be still. Be quiet.

It’ll pass.

Shrodinger's BatCat Child

DP x DC Prompt

When Selina was pregnant with her's and Bruce's child, she was thinking of settling down and raising the child. But when she had given birth to the boy, someone had broken into the hospital and stolen not only her baby but also other babies had been taken from the hospital. She tried to find out who took her baby boy but couldn't find the perpetrator.

Heartbroken at the loss of her baby, Selina masks her grief with being Catwoman. She doesn't tell Bruce about their baby boy, even after the new boy that goes under the Bats wing. She does treat each new Robin as if they were her own son. She talks to Harley about what had happened when Damian comes into the fold, where she then reveals that she had a baby with Bruce to the man and what happened to their baby after a few sessions with Harley.

Danny is on the run from Amity, from the Fentons, from the GIW, and from Vlad. The Fentons found out about him being Phantom and attacked him. They then teamed up with the GIW to hunt him down. He doesn't want to go to Vlad, as the Fruitloop is slowly becoming more and more crazy to get him to become his son and slowly focusing less and less on Maddie.

He heads to Gotham, as the city spirit, when she was chosen to be part of his court because of her knowledge and power, had told him that he was one of hers, a child born in Gotham to a woman that wasn't Maddie, Catwoman, and that's also how he found out that he's the son of Batman as well, because Lady Gotham gave him that answer as well, but she didn't tell him their real names. He just hopes that his mom and dad will be happy to learn that their son is still (mostly) alive and on his way to them.

And then Danny is caught by the Joker. He couldn't put up that much of a fight as he used up a lot of Ectoplasm escaping the lab he was in. Tucker's family moved away during middle school, and so did Sam's family when the start of high school came, Jazz had returned from college to help him escape the lab he was held in, but had to go back if she wanted to keep the scholarship.

The Batfam was having a family day out in Gotham. Bruce and Selina were engaged and wanted to bond as a family. Then Joker began broadcasting across Gotham.

"Hello Gotham! Today, I have a special guest with me"

The camera panned to a boy tied up in a chair, head hanging low.

"Brucie Boy seems to have forgotten to mention that he has another brat to call his own, so I took it upon myself to inform you all about him!"

When Joker grabbed the face of the boy and showed it to the camera, the entire Batfam tensed. Because the boys face had the features of both Bruce and Selina, the cuts, bruises, and blood on the boys face couldn't hide that fact, and now they need to find the boy to save him from what Joker has planned for their son.

#atiya writes #batty ghosts #whump #angst #danny is not having a good time #hostage danny #tw blood #dcxdp #dpxdc #the gas is having an effect on him and its a doozy #0.0 wonder who Danny bit cause ouch #ill prob end up writing more #have more planned in my google doc so... who knows

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gunnerfc · 2 days ago

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Control | Lia Wälti x Reader (18+)

Summary: During a night out with the team, Lia lets her feelings for you get out of hand and tells, though in a different way you wouldn’t have expected

Warnings: smut minors DNI!, top reader, bottom lia, strap use (lia receiving), strap riding, begging, jealousy

WC: 2.3K

The loud music in the bar was deafening and a bit annoying if you were to ask Lia. The midfielder didn’t even want to come out with the team tonight, having planned to stay in and sulk about the massive crush she had for you. Lia has had feelings for you since you joined Arsenal, which was almost a year ago at this point. The midfielder refused to tell you, or anyone, because she didn’t want to risk ruining the friendship the two of you had built.

But now that she’s seated in a booth in a loud bar, watching you laugh with your teammates, she wishes she had said something. Lia wishes it was her making you laugh like that, but instead, she was in the corner sulking.

Conversations between Leah, Steph, and Kim echoed in her ears, but she wasn’t listening. She was too distracted by you in a different booth with Alessia, Caitlin, and Katie.

“Lia,” Kim’s familiar Scottish accent pulled her from her thoughts. Lia turned her head slightly to catch a glimpse of her three teammates, who were all staring at her as if they were waiting for her input on something.

“What,” the midfielder mumbled as her cheeks flushed slightly, hoping she wasn’t caught.

Leah followed her eyes that were drifting to you every so often, a knowing smirk gracing the blonde’s face. “You should tell Y/N how you feel,” she nodded as she sipped her drink, watching as Lia’s eyes widened.

Lia stuttered, trying to formulate a response. Her blush deepened as her teammates laughed at her expression. “W-what are you talking about?” she finally said, clearing her throat once she had finished speaking.

Steph rolled her eyes and shot her a knowing look. “C’mon, Lia,” the defender laughed softly. “I think everyone knows you have feelings for her,” she finished as she sat back against the seat.

Lia didn’t respond, unsure of if she could lie her way out of this conversation. Her eyes wandered back to you, though you were no longer in your seat. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she scanned the cramped bar, finally finding you leaned up against the bar as you waited for a drink. Her teammates gave up trying to get her attention, they could tell they weren’t going to get much from her tonight.

Lia watched as some woman moved to stand next to you, an obvious flirtation glint in her eyes that Lia could see from her seat. Her jaw clenched watching the woman touch your arm and her jealousy grew when you didn’t pull away.

“Excuse me,” she muttered as she pushed herself out of the booth, not caring to listen to if her friends responded.

Leah, Kim, and Steph watched as Lia made her way toward you, the trio was glad their friend finally grew a pair and was going to do something about her crush.

“Hi,” Lia said, putting on a fake smile once she was by your side. Her hand moved to hold on to your bicep. You turned to smile at her, but your expression changed when you saw the annoyed look on her face.

“Hi, Lia,” you hummed, your attention fully on her rather than the woman at the bar. You have had a crush on the Swiss captain for a few months, but you kept it to yourself since you weren’t sure she would feel the same way.

“Can I talk to you,” she asked, her eyes dropping to your lips quickly before meeting your gaze again. “Outside,” she nodded her head toward the entrance of the bar.

You downed the rest of your drink and gave the woman at the bar a small smile before letting Lia drag you outside. You missed the trio Lia was sitting with shoot her subtle thumbs up, your focus solely on the woman’s hand in yours.

Once you were outside, the cold air sobered you up quickly while you moved further down the street, away from the bar. “What’s up,” you asked once you two came to a stop.

Lia didn’t answer, rather she let the silence build between you as her eyes held your gaze. She was fighting in her mind, debating if she should just say what she was feeling or come up with some sort of lie. Her eyes dropped to your lips once more and she threw caution to the wind, her hands pulling on the jacket you were wearing.

Your lips met in a heated kiss and it took you a second to realize what was happening. Though, once you came to your senses, your hands wrapped around her waist as the kiss grew deeper. Lia moaned softly against your lips, her hands moving up to lock around your neck to pull you closer to her.

You pulled away after a moment when you needed air, your chest panting slightly. “What was that for,” you huffed, your hands still tight around her body.

“I didn’t like how she was touching you,” her voice had dropped slightly and her annoyance with the woman inside was evident in her tone.

You exhaled with a small smirk on your face as you moved a hand to her chin tilting her head up slightly. “Were you jealous, Lia,” you grinned, your thumb tracing her bottom lip.

“I don’t need to be,” she lied, and she knew you could tell she was but you didn’t call her out on it.

“Why’s that,” you teased, your smirk growing.

Lia didn’t respond verbally, instead, she sucked your thumb into her mouth, sucking as she held eye contact with you. She let you pull the digit from her mouth after a moment, her voice slightly raspy as she responded, “I could show you why.”

You raised a brow at her words, intrigued by her confidence. “You’d think you be in control,” you teased.

“Obviously,” she smirked, once again lying but the game you two were playing was turning her on.

“My place is closer,” you started, shrugging as you licked your lips. “If you wanna prove it.”

Lia bit her lip and nodded, letting you lead her in the direction of your house, which was within walking distance of the bar. You two all but jogged with how eager you were. Lia, eager to try and be in control, and you, eager to prove her wrong.

The second you had the door unlocked, you pulled Lia inside and your lips were on her’s once again. This kiss was more messy and rushed, biting at each other’s lips as you shoved your shoes off. You guided her through your house and to your bedroom, your hands pulling at each other’s shirts the whole way there.

You turned to sit on the edge of the bed once you were in the bedroom, pulling Lia to straddle your lap. Lia moaned softly against your lips, her hips grinding softly before she halted her movements. In the midst of being pulled from the bar and arriving home, it had slipped your mind you were packing.

“You were expecting to sleep with someone,” Lia commented more to herself rather than to you, her jaw tight with jealousy once more.

You wore a sheepish smile as you looked up at her, your hand tight on her hip. “Well, we all have needs,” you panted softly while pulling her closer.

Lia rolled her eyes as she moved herself to the side. Her hands moved down to the buttons of your jeans, her fingers quickly undoing the buttons. “Take this off,” she huffed as she stood from the bed completely to strip.

You watched as she let her clothes fall to the floor, your eyes lingering on every new part of her body. Lia raised an eyebrow once she was naked, her eyes dropping to your pants. You chuckled but listened, giving her a little control before you took it from her later.

Your pants and underwear hit the floor and you pushed your body up the bed, watching as you waited for Lia to make her next move. The midfielder took her time climbing up the bed, her eyes locked with yours the entire time. Lia straddled your hips, the toy between your leg brushing her cunt earning a small whine from her lips.

You moved to sit up, trying to reach her lips but a firm push to your chest had your back pressed against the mattress once more. You stared up at her with a smirk but didn’t try to move again, her hand pressing on your chest made it difficult anyway.

“You’re not in control, Y/N,” she teased with a surge of confidence. You nodded along despite not believing her but you were intrigued to see what she had in store.

Lia leaned down until her lips ghosted yours, the hand on your chest slipping lower on your body until it met the base of the dildo harnessed around your hips. She guided the tip of the toy through her folds, small moans echoing against your lips while her brows furrowed in pleasure.

You swallowed watching her face, enjoying the expressions she was making. Lia slipped the toy inside, moving to sink her hips down until she met the base of the strap. “Fuck,” she gasped as she sat up, her hand moving back to the center of your chest.

You moved your hands to hold her hips, your chest raising as she slowly started moving her hips. “You look good from this angle,” you teased as you moved to prop your feet on the bed to give you better movement of your hips.

“Shut up,” she gasped, a light blush coating her cheeks as her hips sped up. She pressed harder on your chest as she rode the toy buried inside her, broken moans echoing off your bedroom walls.

You gripped her hips tighter, grunts falling from your lips as the harness brushed your clit with each thrust of her hips. Your eyes fluttered in pleasure, small whines of Lia’s name leaving your lips. Lia smirked down at you in triumph, thinking that she had the upper hand.

“I-I’m close,” she grunted after some time, her hips starting to falter as her thighs burned from her thrusting. You nodded in agreement but you didn’t trust your voice at the moment.

With a loud moan of your name, she came as her hips stilled. Lia panted above you, her nails clawing at your chest as she fought to catch her breath. You came with her, the pressure on your clit combined with watching her ride you was enough to send you over the edge.

“See, told you I was in control,” she had a pleased grin on her face when she was able to speak. You exhaled with a small laugh, smirking up at her with a glint in your eyes.

Lia was too weak to push you back down when you sat up, your hands holding her hips tightly as you flipped your positions. Lia gasped in surprise when her back hit your mattress, a hoarse moan following quickly after the strap that was still inside her brushed her g-spot.

“Doesn’t look like it anymore, hmm,” you teased, moving your hands to rest on either side of her head to keep yourself hovering above her.

Lia tried to respond but a well-timed thrust of your hips cut her off. You chuckled at her, loving having reduced her to not speaking. You moved your hips slowly, teasing her. “Nothing to say now, Lia,” you asked, your hips starting to speed up.

Lia’s eyes rolled back in pleasure, still unable to respond verbally. Her hands moved to your back, her nails leaving crescent indents as she dug her nails into your skin. Your hips snapped against hers, small grunts leaving your lips from the pleasure you were getting from the harness.

“P-please – fuck – I’m-,” her begging was cut off when you moved her leg to rest around your waist, thrusting into her with a new angle.

You smirked down at her before leaning down to kiss her. The kiss was messy, neither of you could keep up because of her moans. Lia’s hands slipped down your back, her fingers digging into your lower back as she let loud cries of your name fall from her lips.

She clenched around the toy, making it harder to move as she came for a second time that night. You moved as best as you could, searching for an orgasm of your own as you helped her ride out her high. You came with a grunt of her name, your hips starting to stutter.

You paused your movements, panting above her as she did the same. You gave her time to recover before kissing her again, this time a bit more put together. “You okay,” you asked once you broke apart, your voice raspy.

Lia nodded while biting her lip. “Yeah,” she smiled up at you, her hands moving to the sides of your neck to pull you into another kiss.

Your hips subconsciously jerked, a whine leaving her lips as the kiss broke. “Sorry,” you laughed but didn’t pull out. “Got one more in ya,” you joked slightly with a smirk.

Lia pulled you closer to whisper against your lips, “More than one.” Your smirk grew and you were filled with a newfound energy, ready to see if she was right.

The rest of the night and into the early morning was spent pulling as many orgasms as you could from the midfielder. This wasn’t how you imagined telling her about your feelings but you weren’t complaining. You two would have a lot to talk about once you woke up but thankfully you had an off day so there was no need to rush the moment you were awake. You were both grateful that you both finally said something.

#woso x reader #awfc x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #lia wälti x reader #lia wälti #woso smut

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kaisentine · 12 hours ago

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݁ ִ ۫ ⸺ ❝ 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔　.ᐟ　❞

⌗ ⸺ ❝ 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 . . ! ❞ the one thing you dread the most is your friends overanalyzing and hyping you up all because of a simple interaction with your crush—so annoying! ft. michael kaiser, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, & oliver aiku general cw. just idiots in love, reader is so deep into denial it’s infuriating, highschool au, shidou, fem reader . . . ( MY BAD ) sticky-note i think i just yapped my brains out with this one ( what’s new! ). bomb idea, explosive writing! NAWT PROOFREAD

sticky note. BAEE 😁 thought of this cuz i was also doing snapstreaks

𐔌 . 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑 is apparently so into you because . . . ❝ he snaps you in the morning ! ❞

your friend seems way more excited than you are. it’s way too early for her to already be geeked out at you opening kaiser’s snap for streaks. “i don’t get it,” you say as you open the image—he’s still at home even though most students are already in their respective classes, it’s the side of his face and really nothing special ( if you didn’t like him ). “he’s the epitome of ‘i don’t snap til i’m done with training.” she explains further yet you still don’t understand why she’s pointing it out. “does that quote even exist?” you ask, she’s off with your phone to observe the very thought out ( not really ) photo and shoves your phone into your face with her manicured finger pointing something out. “never mind that! look!” she has effectively made your brain’s circuit cut short because you don’t understand. you grab her wrist to control the distance so you can actually see. why is she pointing at his hair? “what am i looking at?” you voice your exact thoughts. “not tryna be mean to your crush or whatever, but it’s clear he has bed head!” she exclaims, attempting to remove your hand from her wrist, “there’s a reason he only snaps after training . . .” she ends in a murmur. “ha-ha, very funny. i still don’t get it.” you fake laugh at her sly comment and finally surrender her arm—letting it drop. “he hates people seeing him in the morning because of that,” she contemplates saying what she is just about to say—when has she ever done that? “maybe he wants to be the first man you see in the morning, that’s why!” she giggles, and your jaw drops; that is the biggest stretch she has ever came up with! “are you a lunatic?!? the last thing i’d want to do is show him me in the morning . . . he probably hates me!” this reaction of yours wasn’t what you friend wanted to get out from you. she was expecting to see a gleam of hope in your eyes but instead she’s met with a gloss of panic.

actually, your friend was spot on—he snaps you in the morning because he wants to be the first man you see in the morning. the strategy isn’t as effective as he would like it to be because despite the fact he has a pretty reasonable schedule like how he sleeps 7 hours every night, he only knocks out at about 2 am. he’s probably more effective at being late for school if anything. however, he’d rather you see him as at least one of the first males you see at such an ungodly time with ungodly bed head than you seeing him rush into the classroom because he’s late for the first time you glance at his ( glorious ) face that day. the man also decides he’s way too good for the stupidly cute filters you can find on the app so those are out of question—random wall photos are too. gets ness to hype him up and then chastises him if you don’t even look his way.

sticky note. i feel like this is a stupid reason but it’s such a funny concept

𐔌 . 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄 is apparently so interested in you because . . . ❝ he ate a fry . ❞

your friend is dead serious but you’re just looking at her like ‘oh you actually serious?’. “sorry, what?” you bring your ear closer to her mouth in hopes you probably just misheard what she said. “he. ate. a. fry.” she repeats—nope she is definitely not joking with you. “i don’t see how sae eating a fry relates to him liking me,” you start deadpanning at her attempt at convincing you itoshi sae likes you—she sucks at this! she cocks a brow and gives you a dirty look, “i have a theory you might not actually like him . . . God that man hates fries.” she shudders at the thought. “they were the fries you brought!” she adds on, quickly regaining her composure from pure terror. “okay . . . yeah but it was one singular—not plural—fry, are you okay?” yes, you have a point, it was one fry, and now you’re concerned for you friend. she raises her hands up in surrender while sighing like she was just defeated—have you finally tamed the hostile creature? nope. there’s a sudden stupid smirk on her face that looks straight-up devious, “and plural—not singular—reasons why he is sooo interested!” she elongates and dramatizes the ‘so’, and you mentally slap yourself to make up for the stupidness you can feel radiating off her words. “i can never win with you, can i?” you ask but the answer is already clear—you cannot.

yup, sae hates fries, dearly—that isn’t some kind of secret because he is pretty open about it. once even telling you friend to . . . “fuck off,” when she thought it was a good idea to offer him the stick of pure deliciousness ( hence why she gets shivers thinking about it ). he doesn’t care about a lot of things like how he doesn’t bother himself with keeping most things private or public because he simply just does not give a flying shit. neither does he really care if he makes his feelings clear or not—mixed signals king! sure, he likes you but that doesn’t stop him from being nonchalant. the only time he’ll make openings are in soccer and anything other than that—he just lets it happen. that means if he is given a chance to ‘make a move’ and it’s served on a silver platter without him needing to excerpt any more effort? he’ll take it. if he isn’t, he waits for the next time. but that man doesn’t know anything about feelings so he thinks eating something you brought is making a move.

sticky note. this man is a FREAK but he’s a simple guy promise

𐔌 . 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐈 is apparently so downbad for you because . . . ❝ he said ‘if i was a velociraptor, i’d eat y/n first’ ? ! ❞

your friend reads off her phone and accidentally pushes her desk towards your chair. “HUH?” you’re just as surprised as your friend is—shidou ryusei actually said that? “you have to look at this,” she states and smacks you in the face with her phone ( deja vu WHO ), it’s the school’s blog and the post is exactly what she just said. “that’s just . . . i mean—what?” you find it quite hard to comprehend what you were reading because what do you mean the weird guy you like posted that? “is that edited?” you ask for confirmation—you literally can’t believe it. she clicks the profile and it is him, you feel your face flush when you’re bombarded with images of him. “i get it! i get it!” you bark and swat her hand away, “whydoievenlikehim—“ you mutter before covering your eyes like you just saw something so distasteful. “girl, i don’t know . . . but he totally likes you,” she shrieks, turning off her phone so such madness is no longer seen. you aren’t entirely buying it, “i doubt it, if i was some kind of carnivorous animal, i wouldn’t eat the guy i like—at all!” you say with a frown on your face. she looks at you, looking even more horrified at what you just said to her. “his thinking process is probably out the window, y’know? he probably just means he wants you to be with him forever!” “in his stomach? no thanks.”

what makes you think shidou ryusei is okay in the head in the slightest? if he likes someone—he makes it so obvious! he doesn’t second guess his words, much less his online posts so as soon aas he was done typing out the words, he clicked post almost immediately. doesn’t regret it one bit. his eyes land anywhere but sae? that is truly a feat . . .

sticky note. does this even happen. also nagi really likes sleeping

𐔌 . 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 is apparently so desperate for you because . . . ❝ he sleeps on your shoulder . ❞

your friend is referring to the multiple times your crush has decided to accidentally fall asleep on your shoulder. “so . . .” you urge her to elaborate her point further than she already has. “and he only does it when he’s next to you,” she discerned, whipping out photo evidence in the form of a printed piece of paper. it’s really nothing too special—just the two of you sitting next to each other on the waiting lounge’s couch, waiting for your guys’ turn for the school’s mandatory medical check-up. he looks quite comfortable, arms crossed and manspreading ( 😭 ) but his head is rested on your shoulder—sleeping. “. . .why’d you print it,” you gasp at such an absurd action to prove a point and you quickly rip the paper out of her hands, “you’re insufferable.” you shake your head in disappointment. “a girl gotta do what she gotta do, y’know! how much more obvious does he need to be???” ugh, she’s being so dramatic—he’s just sleeping on your shoulder. “he probably realized i . . .didn’t mind so he doesn’t care,” you reject the idea. “you might be the insufferable one—why do you think he keeps doing it?” she says and you so want to side eye her but you aren’t going to turn sideways to do that because that is mad embarrassing. “i don’t know! he’s just some sleepy guy like,” you give her a pout before continuing, “. . .and people said that they feel sleepy around me.” you admit. “nah, they’re just saying you’re boring!” she giggles—did you not put that together? you playfully push her shoulder in annoyance. “but i’ll give you the answer—he wants to close to you, or in other words; he likes you!”

nagi is the type of lazy where he thinks it’s too much of a hassle to confess first but thinks making physical advancements don’t count. he can easily sleep anywhere, honestly. he likes his sleep but he loves good sleep and you just feel like a good person to sleep on so he decides to try it—and he’s right. he did do it accidentally the first time, it was on his mind but he really didn’t mean to! sleep just drenched his eyes and he was out cold—on your shoulder. there, he decides he likes you more than just a comfy pillow to doze off on.

sticky note. i feel like reader is very justified LMFAO. yk i have a friend who has more than a mu or a situationship but aren’t dating and she said he longest more than friends but not not dating was like 4 years

𐔌 . 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔 aiku is apparently so smitten for you because . . . ❝ girl, he confessed . . . ❞

your friend resists the overwhelming urge to bitch-slap you because you long-pressed your dms with him. the message wasn’t some kind of special confession just a simple ‘hey i know we just started talking but i think i’m inlove with you’ God reading that made you cringe. “yeah nope, not buying it.” you know he probably knows you saw it because of that stupid green dot on your profile but his message is still left on delivered. “why not?” she asks, “he knows you’ve read it, why edge him?” she pulls out her phone from her bag and faces her back towards you. “what are you doing . . ?” you’re honestly scared what she’s planning because even though you could also just stand up and look over her shoulder—she’d run out of the classroom and disappear. “texting someone,” she says while she’s rapidly typing out something, her shoulders shaking. “i don’t like the sound of that,” you refer to the hidden underlining of her tone, “you’re scaring me—ugh—whatever. i just started texting him, he barely knows me, he’s probably had 4 girlfriends in the span of 5 months—what makes me any different?” like—not trying to degrade yourself but you’re worried that he’s just going to play you too. “if he does, i’ll break his heart!” she says in resolve, doing the cliche moment of lifting up a fist and you giggle at her. there’s a quick buzz from your phone and it’s from the girl in-front of you, “what’s this?” you raise an eyebrow, clicking the notification pop-up. “just read it,” okay . . . if she insists. dot. dot. dot. there’s invisible crickets going off in your head. “is this from sendou?” “uh-huh.”

unbeknownst to you, your friend was actually texting her situationship ( of like 8 months LMFAO )—sendou shuto to ask him about oliver’s confession since they’re friends and all. ‘aiku n y/n? oh yeah he’s totally smitten man, i ain’t never seen aiku talk about a girl like he does w her’ is the message she forwarded to you that let the crickets rip! no but seriously, he normally has cycles like when he’s with one girl but then breaks up with her because he got eyes for another but now he promises that he only wants you!

bonus on why reo likes you because i might not be writing as much as i did this week because of school :p

mikage reo ⸺ ❝ he bought your entire christmas wishlist . . . ❞

#ᥫ᭡ love note #i’m lowk that friend #YOLO #bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #seishiro x reader #oliver aiku x reader #aiku oliver x reader #aiku x reader

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hazelira · 2 days ago

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up, up!

Jake leaned against the front door frame, arms crossed as he checked the time on his watch. His usual composed expression softened with the slightest hint of amusement—and maybe just a little bit of exasperation. Grocery shopping. That’s all this was supposed to be. A quick run, in and out. But here he was, waiting in the foyer like he was about to walk a red carpet, except the show's real star hadn’t even made her entrance yet.

The distant sound of your voice floated down the hall.

“I know, baby, but you can’t wear all the tutus.”

A high-pitched whine followed.

Jake pinched the bridge of his nose, suppressing a chuckle. His daughter—his bossy baby—was already making demands before she had even stepped foot outside. Like mother, like daughter.

And then, finally, the moment came.

You emerged, holding your toddler’s tiny hand. She waddled beside you, her pink tutu bouncing with every determined little step she took. Her chubby cheeks were slightly flushed, her dark lashes still heavy from sleep, and her messy baby hairs framed her face like a crown.

Jake’s brow arched.

“…Are you serious?”

Your daughter blinked up at him, completely unaware of the sheer ridiculousness of her outfit. A complete, fluffy pink tutu, glittery socks that barely stayed up, and a matching pink cardigan with a bunny embroidered on the pocket. She looked like a tiny ballerina who had just rolled out of bed and decided today was her day.

“She refused to get out of bed without it,” you sighed, adjusting the packaged diaper bag slung over your shoulder. “She threw a fit, Yunie. You know how she gets.”

Jake exhaled slowly, his gaze flicking between the two of you: his exhausted but beautiful wife and his daughter, who looked like she had just stumbled onto the set of a ballet recital but had no clue what was happening.

“Sweetie, do you even know where we’re going?” he asked, crouching slightly to meet her big, sleepy eyes.

His daughter sucked on her thumb for a second, deep in thought, before deciding it didn’t matter. Instead, she toddled forward and wrapped her arms around his leg.

“Daddy, up up.”

That was it. That was the final order.

Jake sighed dramatically, though his lips twitched as he bent down to scoop her into his arms. Her tiny hands fisted his blazer, her cheek pressing against his shoulder, and he felt her let out the most minor, sleepiest sigh.

“Bossy little baby,” he murmured, kissing her forehead.

You grinned, stepping closer to adjust her tutu so it didn’t get squished in his hold. “Well, what do you expect? She’s your daughter.”

Jake rolled his eyes, but how he held her—gentle, firm, completely wrapped around her little finger—told you he wouldn’t have it any other way.

With a resigned sigh, he shifted his daughter comfortably in one arm, then reached for your hand with the other.

“Alright, princess. Let’s go get some groceries.”

And just like that, the Sim family exited the door.

The drive to the grocery store was mostly quiet, except for the occasional backseat babbling. Jake glanced at the rearview mirror, watching his daughter absentmindedly gnaw on her milk bottle, her eyes still heavy with sleep. She was oblivious to how ridiculous she looked, pink tutu fluffing around her tiny legs like she was heading to a gala rather than a supermarket.

Conversely, you were scrolling through your phone, double-checking the grocery list you’d made.

“You know,” Jake started, lazily resting one hand on the steering wheel while his other tapped against the gear shift, “we could’ve just left her at home with my mom.”

A scoff left your lips as you turned to him. “She would’ve burned the house down.”

Jake let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “She’s a toddler, not a monster.”

“She’s our toddler, Yunie. She was ready to throw hands over a tutu.”

At that, he gave a single nod. Fair point.

From the backseat, a soft whine.

“Pink,” your daughter mumbled as if offended that she wasn’t included in the conversation about her beloved outfit.

Jake sighed, flicking on the turn signal as he pulled into the grocery store parking lot. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Tutu supremacy.”

When you unbuckled her from the car seat, she reached out for her dad again. “Up, up.”

Heeseung gave you a look. “You walked to the car by yourself.”

She blinked, utterly unbothered. “Daddy, up up.”

He scoffed, but there was no real fight in him. Jake wasn’t not going to carry her. So, with a deep sigh—his signature chill but entirely at her mercy Dad moved—he hoisted her onto his hip.

With one arm securely wrapped around his tiny dictator, he grabbed a shopping cart and nodded for you to lead the way inside.

The moment you stepped into the store, your daughter perked up.

Her sleepy haze was gone.

Now, she was pointing at everything—bright-coloured cereal boxes, neatly stacked fruits, random strangers who weren’t paying attention to her but who she seemed to think needed her approval.

You reached for a pack of strawberries, tossing them into the cart. “Yunie, can you grab—”

Before you could even finish, Jake sighed. “Yeah, I got it.”

He knew. He always knew. You needed milk. It was an unspoken rule in your household that there had to be at least two cartons in the fridge at all times, and after years of grocery runs together, he was already making his way toward the dairy aisle like it was second nature.

You watched him go, but your daughter latched onto him, babbling about absolutely nothing.

And then—

A tiny gasp.

She wiggled in Jake’s arms, her chubby hands smacking against his chest.

“Daddy! Look!”

She pointed dramatically to the pinkiest thing she could see—a massive display of Hello Kitty snacks, cookies, and juice boxes.

Jake looked at the shelves, then at you, then back at his daughter, who was practically vibrating in his arms.

“You don’t even *know* what that is,” he deadpanned.

She was unbothered. “It’s pink.”

You bit back a laugh, giving him a knowing smirk. “She makes a solid argument.”

Jake stared at you, then at the display, and then at his daughter, who was now blinking at him with those big, round, pleading eyes.

“…You’re killing me,” he muttered under his breath before grabbing a pack of pink Hello Kitty cookies and tossing them into the cart.

Your daughter clapped her hands in victory. “Pink tutu and cookies!”

“Unbelievable,” Jake groaned, but there was no real bite. He pressed a quick kiss to her temple before sighing dramatically. “What have I gotten myself into?”

You grinned, leaning in to peck his cheek. “Welcome to fatherhood, love.”

And just like that, Jake accepted his fate—wrapped around the little finger of his tiny, bossy ballerina, pink tutu and all.

As the grocery run continued, Jake found himself trapped in what could only be described as a pink-fueled hostage situation.

Your daughter, still securely in his arms, had taken complete control. Jake obeyed every aisle she pointed at. He sighed before grabbing every snack she eyed. You, meanwhile, were watching it all unfold with barely contained amusement.

“Yunie, she doesn’t need that many cookies,” you murmured, crossing your arms as you eyed the growing collection of pink-themed snacks in the cart.

Jake, looking thoroughly exhausted despite it only being twenty minutes into the trip, ran a hand through his hair. "Tell her that.”

You turned to your daughter, who was now happily snacking on a teething biscuit you had packed. She blinked at you, completely innocent—except she wasn’t. You knew that tiny brain of hers was already scheming.

“Sweetheart,” you said gently, tucking a stray baby hair behind her ear. “We’re only getting one treat today, okay?”

She considered your words for a moment, tilting her head. Then, slowly, she turned back to Jake and, in the softest, most manipulative voice possible, mumbled:

“…Daddy?”

You nearly snorted. Oh, she knew what she was doing.

Jake stared at her like he was fighting for his life. “Don’t daddy me,” he warned, shifting her in his arms.

But the damage was done.

She reached up, patting his cheek with her tiny hand. Then—the move that sealed his fate forever—she rested her head against his shoulder and nuzzled into him.

You swore you saw your husband malfunction on the spot.

His shoulders tensed, his grip on the cart tightened, and he let out a long, suffering sigh. Then, without a single word, he grabbed a second pack of cookies and tossed it into the cart.

You gaped at him. “JAKE.”

“She’s—” He gestured wildly to the tiny human in his arms, now humming happily like she hadn’t just emotionally manipulated her father. “She’s so small! How does she have this much power?”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore, shaking your head as you pushed the cart toward the checkout.

Wondered what your favourite snack or that one candy/chocolate/chips, you'd whine for your parents to buy it for you? I remembered mine was Caramilk chocolate or Caramel Candy Apples!

my perm taglist<3 <- request here

@seonhoon @dollrincess @ethanatvre @rei4sunoo @shxhdsstuff @jakeflvrz @laylasbunbunny @jiiyen @saphiranishimurashan @lovelycassy @starry-eyed-bimbo @babyboomysweetie @24svnn @pinkglitterpuke @mellowgalaxystrawberry @heavenki @s1rawb3rry @madslove-enhypen @aishigrey @yangjungwonnie @lilmarsh-t @hoseokteardrop @mrsjjongstby @ro-diaries @ijustwannareadstuff20 @leilamaybelyla @celestialen

Baby Series Masterlist

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notthatcooldude · 2 days ago

Text

Lay me in the palm of your hand (2)

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader, dom!natasha x sub!reader

words: 2.4K

warnings: mommy kink, possessive nat, legal age gap (reader is 22 and nat is 38), degrading, fingering (r receiving), dom/sub dynamics, violation of traffic codes but we’re gonna ignore that, panties as a gag

notes: this isn’t properly proofread yet and I wrote this instead of sleeping so yeah I am sorry… also please inform me if I missed any important warnings!

men & minors DNI

___

As soon as you both got into the car, Natasha put her hand behind your neck and pulled you in a rough kiss. Her right hand found its way to your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh. You let out a little hum into the kiss, leaning closer to the older woman, as you tried to deepen the kiss. You were almost getting a little desperate, despite the tough act you had put on before. Natasha’s lips curled into a small smirk against yours, as she became aware of your desperation.

She pulled away, leaving you slightly breathless. Her hand stroked your thigh in a possessive manner through the fabric of your jeans. “You’re just as good as I thought you’d be… We better get to my apartment then, unless you want to have a little fun in the car now,” she said with the same small smirk that was apparently permanent on her lips. You raised your eyebrow curiously.

“What do you have in mind then?” you questioned. In that moment you couldn’t possibly have had an idea what was about to come.

“I think I might have the perfect little idea to keep us both occupied on the way to my apartment,” Natasha teased. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes a little. Of course she wasn’t going to tell you what she was planning…

“And you said I was the naughty one,” you pointed out, earning a small smack on your thigh.

“Hey, you’re the one who got me wet in the middle of a bar, teasing me with your dirty little words,” she remarked and squeezed your thigh again. Your lips quirked into a small smirk.

“You can’t blame me though, it was way too fun,” you answered boldly. From the look on her face, you could see that you were in trouble now.

“I’m aware of that honey, and you definitely had your fun… But I think I’m gonna have to punish you for that, don’t you think?” she said, still stroking your thigh. Her hand moved further up and slid right on your inner thigh, really close to your crotch but not quite close enough.

“Yeah I.. I think I knew that the moment I said all those words,” you admitted. Your gaze shifted down to her hand, and you finally started to acknowledge just how much your pussy was throbbing already.

“That’s what I thought too, you just had to be a brat, didn’t you?” she smirked. “Now, be a good girl and let me start using you.”

Hearing those words, you felt heat pooling in your lower stomach, and you just knew that your cunt was leaking into your panties. The thought of her using you was just what you wanted - no, what you needed - and you couldn’t prevent yourself from letting out a shuddering breath.

Natasha clearly noticed the way you reacted to her words. She could see how much you enjoyed her slightly degrading words, and she enjoyed having that power over you. “You really just want to be used like a filthy little toy, don’t you? You crave it, you need to be used by someone,” she spoke and slid her hand closer to your aching cunt.

You let out a small ‘fuck’, and closed your eyes for a moment, trying to gather yourself. However, she didn’t give you a chance for that, as she continued. “You’d let me do anything to you… Anything I wanted, as long as you could feel used… I bet you’d even thank me for that.”

You bit your lip, refusing to let out a pathetic whimper. Natasha could see how you just melted with a few right words, the bold and bratty attitude replaced by sweet submission.

Natasha gripped your jaw gently, and turned your head to face her properly, demanding your attention. “Now honey, if you need a break, if you need to stop, at any moment, your safeword is red. If I hear you saying that word, I’ll stop immediately, no questions asked, am I understood?” she asked, looking at you with a serious expression.

You gave her a little nod, but her hand didn’t move from under your chin. Her eyebrow rose up a little. “Words baby, I need to hear you say it,” she demanded.

“Yes,” you quickly corrected yourself, but it wasn’t enough for her.

“Not quite right yet baby. Yes what?” she tapped your chin lightly, waiting for the correct answer.

“Yes mommy,” you said with a small blush. She really wasn’t going to let anything slide, but you could only blame yourself for that. After all, you had called her mommy before she even had the chance to demand that title.

“Good girl,” Natasha praised, stroking your cheek with her thumb. “Now, are you gonna listen to my instructions and do as I say?” she asked, her lips curling into a smug smile as you responded with a small ‘yes mommy’.

“Come on then, lift your pretty ass up from the seat and take off your jeans,” she instructed, making you look at her questioningly.

“Wait what?” you asked, not having any idea of what she was thinking about. Natasha let out a small chuckle.

“You heard me, take them off,” she demanded. You didn’t dare to question her authority, so you got to work. Soon your shoes and jeans were on the car floor, and you looked at her, waiting for more instructions.

“Panties too, love. I want your pretty ass bare,” she ordered with a smirk. Your cheeks turned crimson, but you obeyed her once again. As soon as your soaked panties were off, Natasha extended her hand out to you. “Give them to me,” she said with a smug smirk. Your needy cunt throbbed at that request, and you bit back a small whine as you handed the panties over to her. Natasha stuffed your underwear into her pocket, not commenting on how wet they were.

“Now, crawl over to my lap and sit down like a good girl,” she ordered, the smirk never leaving her face. Your face turned deep red, and your eyes widened slightly.

“Wha- Right here, right now?” you questioned, trying to figure out if she was really serious.

“You heard me, get your pretty ass over here before I get impatient,” she demanded. You turned to look around the parking lot, to see if there were any people. Natasha gripped your chin again, and turned your face towards her. “Oh so now you care about someone seeing? Didn’t seem to care that much when you said those filthy things to me in the bar…”

“That’s… You know that if anyone walks by they’ll get a great view of my bare ass when I crawl over to your lap..,” you whined quietly.

“None of that now. You caused this yourself baby, so get that ass here on my lap now. Unless you want me to spank you right here in the parking lot?” she said and patted her lap again. You knew better than to disobey now, so with a last glance around, you got up from your seat and crawled to her side awkwardly, seating yourself down on her lap and straddling her thighs. You lifted your hands up and placed them on her shoulders. Natasha placed both of her hands on your waist, holding you in place. “That’s a good girl. Now, are you ready to hear what I want you to do?” she questioned. You were about to answer with a nod, but then remembered that she wouldn’t accept that, so you once again muttered out a small ‘yes mommy’.

Natasha’s left hand shifted lower, and her thumb started to draw slow circles around your hip bone. “You’re gonna sit still right there and ride my fingers while I drive us to my place. And you better keep quiet, or I’m gonna find a way to silence that pretty mouth of yours,” she instructed. Your eyes grew even wider than they were before.

“But what if someone sees, and- How can you even drive like that??” you questioned, even though the thought of that scenario was already making your pussy leak even more, forming a small wet spot on Natasha’s thigh.

Natasha let out a small, low chuckle. “Don’t you worry about that love… Tuck your head down on my shoulder and I’ll see the road just perfectly. Besides, luckily my car isn’t a manual, so I can easily drive and keep your needy cunt occupied.”

You bit back a pathetic whimper and decided to accept your fate. “Fine..,” you answered, even though she wasn’t really asking.

“Good girl… Now, keep that pretty mouth quiet,” she said and gave your cheek a quick kiss, and moved to start the engine. Then, she moved her attention back to you. “Head down, pretty girl.”

You obeyed, and rested your head against her shoulder. You could feel her left hand sliding to your inner thigh, making you jolt a little. Your pussy ached, needing her attention, and you had to bite your lip in order to keep quiet.

Natasha slid her fingers over your needy cunt, slipping them between your folds and gathering up your slick. “Oh my, baby, you’re so wet already… God, you’re making a mess all over my thigh. Needy little slut,” she degraded, and you couldn’t hold back a small moan. Her right hand gave a sharp smack on your ass, making you whimper.

“What did I say about being quiet, huh? Do I need to silence you now or will you shut your mouth yourself?” she asked, inching her fingers closer to your entrance.

“No I’ll.. I’ll be quiet, I promise mommy,” you stuttered quickly, even though you knew it was going to be an impossible task.

“You better keep that promise. But I know it’s hard for needy little things like you to keep quiet..,” she purred right into your ear, and with that, she slipped one slender finger inside your aching pussy, making you let out a shaky breath. You clenched your thighs, but they only quivered weakly, as your legs were being forced apart by her thighs. Natasha smirked, planting a few light kisses on your neck, as she moved her finger a bit. “Fuck baby, you’re soaking wet… Are you really this desperate for mommy?”

Before you could figure out a response, a second finger found its way inside you, making your thighs quiver more. You were struggling to keep quiet, but you wanted to be good for her, or more like didn’t want her to punish you more. Judging from this, you didn’t want to know what would be the worst thing she could do to you.

“You’re such a little slut for my fingers… Your pretty cunt is leaking all over my lap,” she degraded, shifting the gear to drive and placing her right hand on the steering wheel. She curled her fingers inside you, making you jolt and let out a shuddering breath.

“You’re gonna have to keep yourself still, baby. Can’t have you disturbing mommy while she drives, right?” she said, while brushing your clenching walls with her fingers. You forced yourself to keep quiet, only nodding against her shoulder. Natasha let out a satisfied hum, and finally started driving.

She had barely driven two miles, when you couldn’t take it anymore. She kept moving her fingers at a really slow pace, but pumping them deep with each thrust. Natasha kept curling her fingers occasionally, and by the fourth time she did that, you couldn’t help but let out a shameless moan. At first, she didn’t say anything, and you already thought that she’d let it slide. However, that wasn’t the case.

Natasha pulled to the side of the road, stopping the car, and yanking your head up by your hair. You winced at the tug, knowing that you were in trouble now.

“You really can’t listen to simple instructions, can you? Didn’t I tell you to keep that mouth shut?” she questioned. You opened your mouth to speak, but were interrupted by a harsh smack to your backside. You jolted, making her fingers go in deeper, and once again you failed to prevent a moan from slipping past your lips.

“I know you’re too desperate to obey, so mommy will have to keep you quiet,” she said, and slid her right hand to her pocket, pulling out your panties that she had stuffed there earlier. “Maybe these will do the trick.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but couldn’t let out a sound as she rolled up the damp panties and stuffed them inside your mouth. “Look at you now… Such a filthy whore,” she said with a mocking smile, and tapped your cheek.

Without a warning, she thrusted her fingers deeper, making you moan around the makeshift gag. The panties in fact did their trick, reducing the sounds of your moans to small, muffled groans.

“That’s better, isn’t it? You look so fucking pretty with those panties in your mouth..,” she said with a mocking smirk. Your pussy was clenching desperately around her fingers, her degrading words feeding your arousal more than you wanted to admit.

Without another word, she placed her hand back on the steering wheel and started driving. She kept pumping her fingers lazily, but due to your desperate state, you were close so soon that it was almost pathetic. Natasha could feel the trembling of your thighs, how your walls clenched around her fingers. She let out a small chuckle.

“Are you close already baby? Such a desperate little slut… Go on, I know you can’t hold it. You can cum for mommy,” she purred against your ear. You whimpered behind the panties in your mouth, and when she curled her fingers again, your orgasm washed over you. Your cunt throbbed and clenched around her fingers, pathetic little sounds leaving your mouth. Your thighs trembled, making you sink deeper down on her fingers.

“Mhm, that’s it… I know you were too desperate, baby,” she said with a smug smirk. “But mommy is not gonna stop though.”

Her fingers continued pumping into your soaking pussy, but this time she only picked up the pace. You let out muffled whines, as you could already feel too sensitive. Your hands gripped her shoulders for support, and you pressed your face against her neck. Natasha let out a chuckle and curled her fingers, before she talked again. “Mommy’s not gonna stop, no matter how many times you cum… So you’re just gonna have to be a good little slut and take it.”

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