#SOMEBODY GUSH OVER THEM WITH ME | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luvergirl-866 · 7 days ago

Text

something like love

part - 2

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 5.3k

c/w - language, slight angst if you squint, emetephobia warning

a/n - hi!! it’s odd for me to post two days in a row, so try not to get used to it! i just already had this written and wanted to share it so baddd. hope yall enjoy! also, this is unedited so once again, im begging, lmk if there’s any mistakes. and ofc tell me what you think!!

To be honest, Azzi hadn’t really known what to expect when they put their plan in motion. She and Paige had gone over the logistics, sure, but they’d only really skimmed over how they’d act in public, and whether they’d hold hands, and what kind of flirty things they’d say to each other. Azzi sort of regrets her decision to let Paige lead the way, because that makes her feel like she’s going into this blind, with no idea of how Paige is going to act when they’re together now. No idea of how things are going to change.

It is only the morning after their movie night, and here is what Azzi has learned so far:

For one, Paige doesn’t actually seem to be that big on hand-holding. The only time she held Azzi’s hand last night was when she led her to the doorway once the night was over, waving their joined hands goodbye to their friends.

Paige does, however, seem to be big on basically everything else.

Once the girls were done gushing and celebrating and asking (very invasive) questions, they’d all decided on some horror movie they’d seen the trailer for. Azzi hates horror movies and she guesses this is probably the reason why Paige advocated so hard to watch one. Because as soon as they turned the lights off and the scary intro music started, Paige wrapped her arm around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her flush against her side. They stayed this way for around ten minutes before Paige claimed she had to use the restroom, but before she left, she kissed Azzi’s head and mumbled, “Don’t get too scared while I’m gone, baby,” into her ear. Azzi had swallowed thickly and nodded, and pretended not to notice Jana wiggling her eyebrows at her.

When the first real jumpscare happened, and Azzi screamed along with a few of the other girls, Paige chuckled quietly and leaned down to whisper, “You’re such a baby about this kinda stuff, Az.” Azzi had reacted how she normally would, slapping Paige on the arm and rolling her eyes, defending herself with a, “Shut up, I know you’re scared, too.” But what wasn’t normal was the way Paige fondly shook her head and nuzzled her cheek with her nose before pressing a kiss there, and then leaned back up to pull Azzi into her side once more, this time protectively. Azzi swore she could hear her own heart racing for a solid five minutes afterwards. It didn’t help that KK had looked back at them and said, “Aw, y’all grossing me out with how cute you are,” before turning back to the movie. Paige had snickered. Azzi had taken a deep breath, which did nothing to help with her composure.

Almost an hour into the movie, Paige rested her hand on Azzi’s thigh and squeezed, and she didn’t give Azzi any time to tame the fire in her belly before leaning into her ear once more and whispering, “You’re so stiff. You gotta chill,” and so, tamping down the need to cross her legs, Azzi’d obeyed and leaned her head on Paige’s shoulder.

At some point or another, she must’ve fallen asleep there, because all she remembers after that is a gentle pressure on her shoulder, jostling her softly, and a voice from her dreams saying, “Az, it’s late, we gotta go. Time to wake up, baby,” and Azzi opened her eyes to find Paige sitting beside her, giving her this look that Azzi had only ever caught glimpses of, and it was so soft she had to shut her eyes again.

“Thought we were sleeping over,” Azzi mumbled, stretching and then turning onto her side, realizing vaguely that somebody must’ve thrown a blanket over her.

“Nah, I figured we better sleep in an actual bed tonight.” Paige stroked back a strand of Azzi’s hair with incredible tenderness before taking her by the waist and hefting her into a sitting position. “C’mon. I’ll take you to mine, okay?”

Azzi had nodded sleepily, and had let Paige say all their goodnights while she hung off her arm with lidded eyes. Even in her half-sleep state, she didn’t miss the way the girls elbowed each other and gave knowing glances.

Now, Azzi stares at Paige, who lays sleeping just next to her, hair all splayed out and mouth hanging open. Azzi smiles softly at her. She and Paige have slept in the same bed hundreds—maybe thousands—of times, but this is different, because Azzi is allowing herself to pretend that it is. She imagines reaching out and waking Paige the same way Paige woke her last night, gently and lovingly, and then sharing a lazy morning together as a couple where they joke about morning breath and talk about their plans and hold each other.

But Paige grumbles, then shifts and blinks her eyes open, rubbing them a little before finding Azzi laying next to her. She smiles, but it’s not the same smile from last night—it’s not that tender, adoring smile, but rather the one Azzi is used to—the wide, toothy, beautiful but friendly one. “Oh, hey. Morning.”

“Morning,” Azzi mumbles, her indulgent fantasy broken, and she reminds herself just how careful she’ll have to be while she and Paige are doing this. She cannot allow herself too many delusions, cannot let her imagination run wild with the idea that their act is real. She cannot let herself get burned by this.

“You kept stealing the blankets last night.”

Azzi lies onto her back to avoid eye contact, staring up at the ceiling. “No, Paige, you were taking up the entire bed.”

“Cap,” Paige says, shoving her shoulder. Rough, friendly. Sisterly.

It’s silent for a second and then Paige turns onto her side. “Hey.” Azzi can feel her eyes burning into the side of her head. “We did pretty good last night, yeah? We seemed super in love and shit?”

Azzi doesn’t chance a glance over, staring stubbornly at the ceiling. “Yeah, P,” she agrees. “We did.”

——————————————

Finals come far too fast.

The last month of school is always hectic, and this year has been no different—Azzi’s spent the vast majority of her time studying, drinking her nostalgia away with friends, and then more studying on top of that.

Oh, and pretending to be in a committed relationship with Paige. That too.

Some days are easier than others—it’s not like they’re being forced to undress each other in front of an audience or anything. They haven’t even had to utilize pet names much. But it’s still…different. So different. Paige was touchy-feely with Azzi even before they started ‘dating’, so now, if they ever sit more than an inch apart or walk somewhere without wrapping their arms around each other, they get strange glances from their friends. A couple mornings ago, they were so hungover that they forgot about their whole act, and when they’d stumbled out of Paige’s room and began making breakfast without so much as a word to each other, KK had abrasively asked if their was ‘trouble in paradise’. Paige was all over her the rest of the day. After two weeks, Azzi is starting to get used to it.

At least they haven’t had to kiss. They haven’t even discussed it, and Azzi has been specifically avoiding that topic of conversation. She knows herself well enough to know that she can’t kiss her best friend and act normal about it.

Later, Azzi will curse herself for thinking this without knocking on wood after.

“So, we all know the rules of the game?”

“KK—“

“Girl, just answer the question!”

A pause, and then a bored chorus of yes’es.

“Yay!” With a big, tipsy smile on her face, KK places the empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle.

Paige groans and rests her head on Azzi’s shoulder. “KK, this is so fuckin’ lame.”

“For real!” Ice says from a few spots down. “We’re not in middle school.”

KK waves them off. “Girl, boo. Y’all are the lame ones. This‘ll be so much fun, you’ll be thanking me after.”

Everyone starts to groan in response to this, but Caroline, ever the mom, speaks up. “C’mon, guys, just play KK’s game.”

Unable to really say no to Caroline, the group shuts up. KK smiles excitedly. “Now that’s what I like to hear! Thank you, Carol.”

Azzi brings her hand up to rest on Paige’s back, and she’s proud that it almost comes naturally now, like her body knows that’s just what it’s supposed to do.

Nika breaks the peace a moment later with another teasing comment, which prompts KK to yell at her, and then everyone is talking amongst themselves, the room buzzing with late-night, drunk-college-students-before-finals energy.

Paige sighs deeply into Azzi’s shoulder, and she loves that she’s the only one who can hear it, who can feel it against her skin.

Putting her lips to Paige’s hair, Azzi mutters, “Wanna go downstairs?”

Downstairs is where Paige’s dorm is. Azzi’s is the floor they’re on now, and it’d probably make more sense to sleep there for the night. But Paige’s dorm, and more specifically, her bedroom, is where they’ve been gravitating to the past couple weeks. Azzi has always loved it there, the smell of Paige filling the very air, photos of the two of them on her nightstand, purple bedding so very Paige. And now it’s become something of a sanctuary, a way to escape their facade which can become cumbersome.

Usually, they’d be in bed by now, because Azzi likes to sleep early and Paige hasn’t been wanting to stay up without her. But Paige shakes her head at the question.

“No?” Azzi asks. “You’re not tired?”

“Mm, nah.” Paige glances up at her. “You?”

Azzi licks her lips. She swears Paige’s eyes track the movement, and linger for just a moment too long. She clears her throat. “Same.”

“Aight,” Paige says, turning back to her shoulder. “We can leave after this, ma.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” KK says, barely giving Azzi any time to shudder at Paige’s nickname. “Pay attention. You’re going first.”

Everybody’s looking directly at Azzi, and she shakes her head awkwardly. “Oh, no, I don’t think—“

“If you don’t wanna play, you gotta take a shot every round.”

Paige lifts her head up. “KK, that’s dumb. She doesn’t have to play if she don’t want to.”

KK smiles deviously. Paige flips her off, but Azzi pulls her hand down, rolling her eyes. “Okay, whatever.” She leans over into the middle of the circle, making Paige lean off of her, and spins the beer bottle.

It spins only twice before slowing down and, blessedly, landing on Aubrey.

The girls make a range of noises, mostly giggles, and then Aubrey leans into the circle to meet Azzi in the middle, smiling.

Once she gets close enough, Azzi whispers, “Liyah good with this?”

Aubrey raises her eyebrows. “I’on think it’s my girl we gotta be worried about.”

Confused, Azzi glances over her shoulder, and sees Paige staring intensely at them, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. The blank look on her usually lively face scares Azzi a little bit. She turns back to Aubrey, who also looks a little afraid.

“You’re good,” Azzi reassures her, because she is. Aubrey doesn’t know that Paige is just acting, because she’s the possessive type and of course, if she and Azzi were really dating, she’d be jealous even of her own teammates. But Azzi can’t tell Aubrey this, so instead, she leans forward and kisses her.

Aubrey lets out a noise, surprised, and it makes Azzi laugh because she probably should’ve warned her she was going in. The kiss can’t last more than two seconds before there’s a hand fisting Azzi’s shirt, pulling her back, and Paige is saying, “Alright, alright,” quite gruffly.

Azzi’s stomach does flips at Paige’s rough voice, but she’s tipsy (maybe a little bit more than tipsy) so she leans up to nuzzle Paige’s cheek rather than shying away from her. “Somebody’s jealous.”

“Yeah,” Paige says, “no one should be up on you like that.” And they’re obviously acting—but when Azzi pulls away to look at her, there’s something on her face that isn’t quite fake enough.

But then she’s smiling and saying, “Stop tryna steal my girl, Aubrey,” and Azzi’s heart contracts like it always does when Paige says stuff like this nowadays.

Across the circle, Aubrey takes her spin. It lands on Ice, and Ice is considerably more drunk than any of them, so the whole thing is pretty slobbery. The next spin—Nika—is mostly the same.

It goes like that for a while, a few people taking shots instead of kissing, and a few others taking shots for the hell of it. The bottle lands on Azzi once again and she fills her shot glass to the brim before taking it, needing to dull the feeling of Paige’s hand wrapped possessively around her waist.

By the time the bottle lands on Paige, they’re all pretty damn drunk.

Azzi knows it’s just a game, but she’s always hated seeing Paige with other people, and now is no different. Ashlynn laughs, because this whole thing is pretty fucking funny, but Azzi can’t help but sulk, glad to be under the guise of a relationship—glad she doesn’t have to hide her feelings for awhile.

Before leaning into the circle, Paige looks at Azzi and says, all lighthearted and buzzed, “Don’t pout at me, baby.”

There’s that roughness again, that tone in the back of her throat, and Azzi squirms when Paige presses a wet kiss to her cheek.

Paige and Ashlynn kiss, but they both laugh kind of hysterically so their teeth are pretty much just clashing, and when they’re done Paige wraps an arm around Azzi’s shoulders and spins for herself. And it spins, and spins, and spins, so many times Azzi gets dizzy watching it—

It gets to Amari, and it slows.

It passes by Inês, barely moving anymore.

The neck gets back to Paige, and Azzi wonders for one drunk second, What if it lands on Paige and she has to kiss herself? and she doesn’t even have the time to laugh at how ridiculous that is before the bottle stops, pointing almost accusingly at her.

The girls all cheer, oohing and laughing.

Paige laughs too, easy and casual because they’re supposed to be a couple, they’re supposed to have done this a thousand times, it’s supposed to be normal, normal, Azzi, act normal.

They should have known this would be inevitable.

Paige turns to her, still smiling but with a concerned, almost imperceptible furrow between her brow. Azzi obviously can’t refuse this kiss, can’t take a shot rather than kiss her girlfriend in front of all these people who know she’s her girlfriend.

So instead, she wills herself to nod and then she takes Paige by the collar and kisses her.

Strangely enough, the first thing Azzi takes note of isn’t actually the way Paige’s lips feel touching hers for the first time, or the fact that their teammates are watching them, wolf-whistling and giggling amongst each other.

No, instead, it’s the way Paige smells—the fact that the hair tickling Azzi’s cheek is sweet, vanilla, which means she washed her hair today. And it’s the way her hands cup Azzi’s jaw, cradling her like they do this all the time, thumbs rubbing gently against her cheekbones in a gesture soft enough to make Azzi gasp into her mouth.

She only snaps into it and really realizes, oh, Paige is actually kissing me right now, when Paige’s tongue teases against Azzi’s bottom lip. And it’s just for a second, Paige pulling away fast enough that Azzi thinks she must have imagined it, but it leaves her lip wet.

After that, Paige sits back, smiling at her but there’s that furrow between her brow again, imperceptible to anyone who doesn’t know her as well as Azzi does, and she’s stroking Azzi’s cheek like a tick now, like she’s trying to figure something out.

The moment ends when the girls all clap like white people on a plane, and Azzi isn’t even paying attention to the teasing and cooing, because she’s too busy staring at Paige, wondering what she’s thinking about right now, wondering what about that kiss made her feel so damn…safe.

Whenever she thought about her first kiss with Paige, she expected butterflies, light-headedness—maybe even nausea. Comfort, the thing you feel when you come home to your small town after a semester away—that was not expected.

Paige blinks, that strange look on her face disappearing, and Azzi realizes that she’s still holding onto the front of her shirt. She pushes her away teasingly, and Paige laughs, wrapping an arm around her as she turns to the girls, waving off their teasing remarks, and as Azzi watches her profile, feels the wetness on her bottom lip cool, she knows that she is falling and thinks nobody will be there to catch her when she reaches the bottom.

——————————————

The next morning, Azzi wakes up and immediately regrets it.

Paige’s window blanket must’ve fallen down last night, because the sun is shining through the room and it is…loud. She rolls onto her side to try and get away from it, and then that problem is fixed but another rises in the form of an abrupt tummyache. And Azzi prides herself on being a strong person, but as soon as she gets a tummyache it’s over for her.

Also, maybe the loud sun problem isn’t as fixed as she thought because her head is beginning to pound. She can feel it beating against her skull in time with the beating of her heart, and somehow that gives her a feeling akin to motion sickness, which makes her tummy hurt worse. She is probably going to throw up very soon, and should get up so she doesn’t do it all over Paige’s bed, but that’s where the third problem arises: she is so comfy. How can she ever be expected to leave this bed when she’s so goddamn comfy?

“Yo, are you gonna puke?”

Azzi groans. “Probably.”

Azzi’s facing away, so she can’t see what Paige’s doing, but she hears sheets rustle and then a pair of footsteps on the hardwood floor. Soon enough, Paige is standing in front of her, holding a hand out. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

Azzi looks up, and that makes her stomach turn again, the back of her neck burning. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m gonna kill you if you puke on my bed. Like, actually.”

If Azzi threw up on Paige’s bed, Paige would probably usher her to the bathroom, give her some water, and clean the sheets without complaining about it until a few days later. But Azzi still doesn’t think that’d be a good idea, so she sits herself up and is about to accept Paige’s hand when she realizes this is much more urgent than she thought. Almost as soon as her feet hit solid ground, the bile rises in her throat at an alarming rate and she has to run across the hall. She doesn’t make it to the toilet but manages the bathtub, which is arguably better.

Paige is there once she’s done, tying her hair up into a ponytail. “That it?”

Azzi spits. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay. Lemme grab you some pepto or somethin’. Hang tight.”

Once Paige walks away, Azzi wipes her mouth and all at once, like the tide coming in, remembers how the lips now coated in spit and bile were yesterday on Paige’s.

Of course, she also remembers the pet names, the affection, the flash of jealousy in Paige’s eyes that may or may not have been there. But it’s the kiss, the wonderful, tipsy, warm kiss that wrestles its way to the forefront of her pounding head and stays there, the memory replaying quite a few times before Paige comes back with pepto bismol and water. “Here.”

Azzi looks disdainfully at the bright pink medicine. “I don’t think I can swallow that, P.”

“Whoa, pause.“

“Chill,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes. “Gimme that.” she takes them from Paige’s hand and manages to swallow one before throwing up again, this time with Paige by her side to hold onto her while her shoulders heave.

“Aw,” Paige tuts sympathetically when she’s done. “My lil lightweight.”

Azzi rests her head on the edge of the tub while Paige turns on the tap, washing the bile away.

Azzi lifts her head enough to see Paige sit against the wall across from her. “Feel okay now?”

Her throat burns, and her tummy hurts, and throwing up in front of the love of your life is not a glamorous experience. But with Paige here with her, taking care of her, she doesn’t feel too bad.

If it only weren’t for that really good fucking kiss.

Azzi nods weakly even though she doesn’t know the answer, because saying ‘I hate the fact that we kissed last night, not because I regret it—I’ve been wanting to do it since we were kids in high school—but because now I’m worried I won’t be able to keep my feelings hidden for much longer which is worrisome because we haven’t even left for Montana yet, and also I wonder what this means for us and our fake relationship, because if it means kissing will become a normal thing I don’t know if I can do this’ would probably be weird.

“K, good. Thanks for not puking in my bed.”

Azzi smiles weakly at her, mouth still tasting like bile. How could Paige ever return her feelings when she has seen her like this a hundred other times?

Paige reaches a socked toe out to nudge Azzi’s calf. “Okay, you said you feel better, but you still look kinda…green.”

Azzi looks Paige in the eye, and manages maybe a second of eye contact before she’s thinking about how they looked at each other just like this after they kissed last night, and there it goes, the moment playing in her head once and then again. She can’t help but groan and rest her burning cheek to the cool tub.

And the universe should go to hell for making them best friends because Paige gets it instantly. “Oh, this is about last night.”

Suddenly the cool tub isn’t helping anymore. Azzi weakly shakes her head, but she knows the truth is showing plainly on her face.

“Yeah, whatever.” Paige pushes herself off the wall, wiggling her eyebrows. Azzi senses trouble. “It was a good kiss, huh?”

Azzi balks, then tries to reel it in. “That’s not…Paige…”

“Hold up,” Paige says, looking genuinely a little confused. “You don’t think I’m a good kisser?”

“No, no, but I just…” how can Paige talk about this so casually, like it was meaningless, something to be joked about? Azzi envies her lack of feelings. “Don’t you think we should talk about it?”

“Uh, I mean…” Paige scratches the side of her neck, and it occurs to Azzi that the bathroom isn’t an amazing place to talk about this. “Yeah, sure. If you want to.”

Not exactly an encouraging answer. Azzi strives on nonetheless. “It was our first kiss.”

“Yeah. Guess we coulda planned it better.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Azzi trails off. “Don't you think it was sort of…weird?”

Paige frowns again. “Damn! If you didn’t like the kiss just say that.”

Azzi hopes she can blame her flushed cheeks on the hangover. “P, I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that you’re my best friend—“

“That’s me.” Paige smiles proudly. It’s too fucking cute.

“And,” Azzi says pointedly, “I feel like, weird, about kissing you.”

She waits for Paige to answer, but Paige just stares, apparently waiting for her, too. Azzi sighs. “I worry we won’t be able to fake it well enough.”

“We did fine last night, didn’t we?”

“We were drunk last night.”

Paige makes a face. “I guess. But I feel like we’d do good even if we were sober, y’know?” She leans her head back against the wall. “And it’s not like kissing’s a big deal, anyway.”

Azzi’s eyes drop down to the tiled floor, cold against the thin material of her sleep pants. “Maybe not to you,” she mumbles.

There’s a shuffling, and then Paige is closer than before, nudging Azzi’s knee with her own. “Yeah, you’re right, that’s my bad.” There’s a silence, both of them thinking, and Azzi wonders if maybe Paige is thinking the same thing she is. About how their kiss last night felt…different. Different than a kiss between two friends, different than the other kisses with other people felt. And the look Paige gave her afterward…

But then Paige says, “Wanna practice, ma?” and Azzi was a fool to ever think they’d be on the same track.

Azzi splutters for a moment. “Practice?”

“Yeah. To prepare, in case we have to do it again,” Paige says casually, like it’s no big deal at all.

“I don’t think that’s…that’s not—“ Azzi cuts herself off on a sigh. Then she looks at Paige, really looks at her, and that’s when she catches the glint in Paige’s eyes, and she realizes—she’s messing with her. She’s taking advantage of Azzi’s obvious shyness about this whole thing.

What a little shithead.

Making a quick decision, Azzi leans forward a little bit, glancing down, then back up, looking at Paige through her lashes before she licks her lip.

Paige clocks it, tracks it with her eyes. Just like last night.

Azzi swallows down the nervousness and wills herself to be normal, reminds herself that this is Paige, and she has no reason to sink into her shell when she has the opportunity to take the upper hand.

“Okay,” Azzi says after a moment.

Paige’s eyes flit up, away from her lips. “Okay?”

Azzi nods, then lifts her hand to place over Paige’s knee, bare in her sleep shorts, before she dances her fingers delicately up her thigh. “You wanna practice kissing me, Paige?”

Paige swallows thickly. And then she nods.

Okay. So. That’s…unexpected.

Paige wants to kiss her.

That would explain the lip-ogling.

Azzi has half a mind to make the biggest mistake of her life and close the gap between them, but then she remembers they are sitting on the bathroom floor, and, ew, she just threw up. Twice.

Azzi manages what she hopes is a cocky smirk and leans away. “Well, too bad. Sick, remember?”

Paige’s eyes widen, like she’s just been snapped out of a trance. “Oh. Yeah.” She backs off then, relief coursing through Azzi, before she’s standing up and dusting off her shorts as she reaches down to help Azzi up. “You good to stand?”

Ok. So they’re not talking about it. Cool.

Azzi nods and takes Paige’s hand, her palm warm against her own as their fingers entangle for the two seconds it takes to go from sitting to standing, feeling a little dizzy from the altitude once she’s up.

Paige frowns at her. “You still look kinda messed up. How ‘bout you lay down. I can go get us some food? Gotta fuel up for all the studying today.”

Azzi groans, palming her face. “No, I forgot about finals.”

“Azzi Fudd? Forgetting about finals?” Paige teases, leading them out of the bathroom. “Last night really fucked you up, huh?”

“Yeah,” Azzi mumbles. “It was definitely the alcohol that did it.”

Paige glances back at her but doesn’t say anything, sitting Azzi down on the edge of the bed once they get there. “Okay, sit here and chill out. Lemme know if you need to puke again.” She smiles down at her, and Azzi smiles weakly back, before the older girl is turning on her heel and walking out of the room, closing the door gently behind her. Another door opens somewhere down the hall and then one of the girls’ voices mixes in with Paige’s as the roommates converse too quietly for Azzi to really hear. She sighs and flops down on the bed, hands wringing nervously at her stomach as she stares at the ceiling.

She has really gotten herself into some shit this time.

Her phone starts buzzing from its place on the nightstand, and Azzi straightens up to check it, her mother’s face flashing on the screen. Anxiety coils in Azzi’s belly at the sight of her mother’s contact, which usually brings her so much comfort.

Ever since she and Paige ‘came out’ to their friends, Azzi has been avoiding her mother like the plague. She knows she should just come out and tell Katie, but she’s not sure what she should tell her.

Azzi knows that Katie would disapprove if she found out about their little scheme, the woman avidly against lying. But if Azzi were to tell Katie what they’ve been telling everyone else—that they are a disgustingly happy, perfectly real couple—she’d be lying to her mother. And with Katie being her main confidante throughout her entire life, Azzi’s never really been good at that. She hasn’t gotten enough practice.

Not without guilt, Azzi lets it go to voicemail, holding her phone close to her chest afterwards, lying back down. She feels nauseous again at just the thought of lying to her mom. But if she came clean, would Katie make her feel guilty about it? Urge her to tell the truth, even if it meant not helping Paige like she promised she would?

Just as Azzi’s about to head back to the bathroom, Paige comes to the bedroom, leaning through the doorframe. “Toast’s almost done, Az.”

Azzi nods but doesn’t move. Paige lingers, sensing that Azzi’s going to say something.

Finally, after some internal debate, Azzi says, “What do you think I should tell my mom?”

Paige frowns. “I thought you talked to her already.”

Azzi shrugs. “We haven’t called. I’ve been avoiding her, but I feel bad about it.”

Paige bites her lip like she always does when she’s thinking, and it eases some of the tension out of Azzi’s shoulders, softening her around the edges. She leans against the doorframe, looking right at Azzi. “Well, what do you wanna do?”

Azzi shrugs helplessly.

Paige scrunches her nose (very cutely) and says, “Honestly, I don’t think we should tell her. Not yet, at least.”

Azzi heaves out a breath, not liking the sound of that answer. “You think?”

“Yeah. Have you met your mom?” Paige smiles fondly. “Lady can’t keep a secret for shit.”

“You’re right.” Azzi hadn’t thought of that, the fact her mom’s the town gossip. “She’d probably have the truth out before we could even finish telling her.”

Paige nods in agreement. “Exactly. Plus, it’s easier to tell everyone the same story, right?”

“I guess.” Unsteady, Azzi pushes herself up from the bed, walking over to Paige slowly. “You still sure this is a good idea?”

“Even if I wasn’t,” Paige says, “we’re too deep in it now.”

Azzi looks up at her solemnly. “The point of no return.”

“Uh-huh.” Paige sighs out a breath, looking almost regretfully at the girl in front of her. “Sorry again, about asking you to do this. I know it’s kinda a whole thing now.”

Azzi’s shaking her head before Paige can even finish. “I already told you, it’s fine. We go to Montana soon, and before we know it we’ll be done.” Azzi’s stomach sort of sinks at the thought. No more flirting, no more cheek-kissing, no more Paige protectively slinging an arm around her shoulder while they’re in public like she’s telling everyone Azzi’s her’s.

Azzi manages what she hopes is an optimistic smile anyway. “Let’s go eat breakfast. And then I’ll call my mom back and we can tell her together?”

Almost as if reading her mind, Paige easily wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as she leads her down the hallway. “Alright, ma. Sounds good to me.”

@smiths-fan--13 @ch12334

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi fics #pazzi #fake dating #pazzi crumbs #paige buckets #paige x azzi #uconn wbb #wbb #wcbb #the people's princess

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melathan · 3 months ago

Text

han jisung x camgirl! reader drabble

word count — 1.9k

warnings — NSFW, 18+. needy! jisung, soft dom! reader. mentioned pornography, masturbation + mutual masturbation, praise, toy usage, use of nicknames (babygirl, good boy), light teasing

editor note — first work posted! hope you guys enjoy^^

It’s hard being a talented and hardworking idol year-round, especially when there’s little time to blow off steam. Of course, perhaps his management allowed his group to go out a couple of nights of the year, and let the idols live freely. But for Han Jisung, meeting new people… wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

Well, obviously, he wanted to meet new people. He tried to find friends outside of Stray Kids, he tried to find acquaintances he can fuck around with–

He wanted somebody’s sexual attention.

Sure, rumors went around that his group sometimes mingled sexually. Sure, it may be true. But Jisung wanted to find somebody who would fulfill his erotic fantasies, his strange kinks, his insatiable libido. Especially when out of the 365 days, only a select few would be free to let him do so.

But, of course, his one problem: He can’t socialize with strangers. Talking to his fans was one thing– he just had to say hello, hear them gush about him, say thank you, and wave goodbye. Simple.

Meeting strangers at bars and clubs… what do you mean he had to flirt with somebody who wasn’t a friend?? Twenty-one questions? What’s that? More like twenty-one regrets for following his friends to the loud, crowded club.

Once again, he was curled up in his room as the other members separated and went out on their off night. Once again, he was berating himself for not being sociable.

…Once again, he was humping that same damned pillow.

A breathy curse left his lips, his fingers curling into the sheets as he bucked his hips again. His trusty pillow never failed to satisfy him– but as he continued a pit grew in his stomach. He wanted more. He didn’t just want to be satisfied; he wanted to be pleasured, to be thrown over the edge, to be braindead…

Jisung let out a whine, collapsing on his pillow. A frustrated huff left his lips as he pulled out his phone, opening the PornHub link once again… no, he didn’t feel proud about this. He felt like a sleazy creep who got off watching girls and guys fuck for the camera.

(Sure, he didn’t feel proud, but he certainly didn’t feel guilty.)

Ah. The normal stepcest content. He grumbled, feeling his cock twitch against the pillow. He just found roleplaying erotic and exciting. Realistically, you can film anything, slap down the word ‘roleplay’ and you wouldn’t be questioned in the pornography realm. But to say the least, it worked, so he watched it.

He tapped on the video, setting his head back on the other pillow and situating himself, gripping the base of his cock. It was dark in his room, so the blinding light and loud music of the upcoming ad made him flinch away, squinting his eyes.

Scowling, he tapped furiously on the loading skip button. Another one of those porn Facetime sites.

Do they even work? Could you just sign up, get on call, and masturbate with a hot girl?

He paused, staring at the seizure-inducing ad.

…

It wouldn’t hurt to try, honestly.

His anxiety spiked, but he forced it down. No, he wasn’t going to have small talk. No, he didn’t have to show his face… just his cock. And no, the other girl wouldn’t skip him if he stuttered immensely.

Right?

He sat up in his bed, crossing his legs as he tapped on the ad itself. The normal button to download an app was shown– if he was normal, he would’ve clicked off.

But he didn’t feel like jerking off onto his pillow to some video posted five years ago. His friends were gone and the dorm was empty– he might as well take the chance.

✶ ✶ ✶

“–Babygirl, right? You should totally show me your–”

Skipped.

You sighed, throwing your head back. Another horny teenager. Couldn’t you get somebody somewhat normal?

It was your off day of streaming, simply anonymous on this mutual masturbation app. You counted three teenagers, four people who recognized you, and a troll (although you could admit the guy made you laugh).

The blank screen was loading, finding somebody else for you. Your wand laid between your legs, and you cursed.

Maybe I should give it up–

The screen loaded and you perked up… only to see a ceiling fan. You frowned.

“Hello?”

A small noise came from the other side of the call and the camera shifted. “Uh… hi.”

Great, another teenager?

“If you’re under twenty I am clicking off–”

“Wait!” The camera jolted and a face came into view, his eyes wide with panic.

You sucked in a breath. He was gorgeous.

Soon realizing what he did he yelped and dropped the phone, showing his fan again. “Ah, fuck-!” “What?” You demanded. “No no, show me your face pretty boy.”

He choked. “Pretty boy-?”

“Yes? Or are you camera shy?” You sat back, almost grinning in amusement. While he was too scared to even show his forehead, you had your camera positioned so he could see everything. Crossing your legs, you leaned back even more, relaxed.

The guy whined. Whined. “I, uh… wouldn’t you rather see my d-dick?” “Oh, so you’re direct,” You purred, resting your chin on the back of your hand. “Alright. Do what makes you comfortable.”

There’s a pause on his end, and he lifts his phone to reposition it. The ending scene… oh.

His cock was as pretty as his face. Long, curled, resting on his doughy tummy. The pink mushroom tip glistened in his blue LED room lights, a show of his excitement. His small hand gripped the chubby base, his hand twitching.

“Baby,” You exhaled. “Are you a pornstar?”

The guy choked, his grip tightening. “I– huh? N-no, I’m not!”

You scoffed. “You should be. You’re immaculate.”

“Oh…” Another whine. “Really?”

“Yes! Oh, baby, can you stroke it?” You grab your wand, turning on the lowest setting. The hum of the toy was picked up by the guy, as heard by his bated breath.

“Ok…”

You made sure not to blink as he slowly moved his hand up and down, the veins bulging at the movements. He let out another shuddered breath, his thighs tensing.

“I’ve never… touched myself in front of somebody–” He murmured, his last word hitching. “L-let alone a stranger…”

“So you’re new… alright.” You nodded, grazing your wand on your cunt. You let out a content sigh, brushing it on the lips.

He gulped– it was obvious that his attention was on you, not on his cock. To tease him, you pressed it right on your clit, letting out a soft moan. You could’ve sworn you saw a drop of precum roll down his shaft.

“I’m your first, then,” You grin, the idea making you strangely pleased. “That’s adorable.”

He squeaked. “Really?”

You nodded, increasing the level on the wand. As you tensed up and moaned, he tensed and stuttered his hand on his cock.

“Baby,” You said after a second. “I feel like you're holding back. Relax~”

“Relax,” He huffed, sitting up. “Ok– ok. Um…”

You saw the tension leave his thighs and arms, his body sinking further into the mattress. Grinning, you spread your cunt out further, the slick making it glisten in the low light.

He let out a low groan. “Are you… going to cum?”

“Not yet, baby. But soon.” I nod, spreading my legs further as I increase the intensity. Just watching him– a nervous, adorable stranger– touch himself, made me strangely sensitive.

New turn-on, I guess.

You decide to turn it up yet another level, arching your back and letting out a sultry whine. “Oh~”

“Fuck…” You heard him curse. “Do– do it again. Do that again.”

You wanted to tease him– but with how your lower stomach was tightening, you would only frustrate yourself. Instead, you laid back, tapping your toy on your clit and making yourself twitch and moan.

You heard the sheets rustle on his end as well, and his camera jerked. His phone fell but showed you something that almost made you cum on the spot.

You were able to see his face again, his eyes and nose scrunched up, framed by curly locks of silky brown hair. He was hunched over but it didn’t hide his small waist; it accentuated the curve from his chest to his hip. His honey-toned thighs twitched and shook as he gripped his cock, slick noises echoing in both of your rooms as he jerked off.

“You’re into that?” You moan out; you couldn’t help yourself. “Into my noises? My moans? What if I beg for you, huh?”

He let out a breathless wail, throwing his head back. “Oh god, please–”

He’s the beggar, shit.

“Praise?” You murmured, your soft tone barely heard over his wet cock and your buzzing toy. “Are you a good boy?”

His eyes widened comically, immediately flitting over to you. His movements momentarily stuttered, the pretty tip almost a deep purple.

Gotcha.

“Good boy…” You moaned out, your toy now on the highest setting as you rubbed it frantically on your clit. “You’re such a good boy, such a good boy…”

“Yes-!” He whimpered, his hand almost sliding off his cock with the sheer amount of precum. “Oh fuck, I am~!”

You gripped the toy with both hands, your legs closing over it. “You’re gonna cum? Can you cum for me baby? Cum for me, babygirl–”

The nickname set him off immediately. He let out a loud wail, his hands jerking back as he came. Thick ropes of seed spurted out of the swollen tip, collecting on his tightened stomach. He gripped the sheets under him, his cock twitching as he screwed his eyes shut. “Oh…!”

You came yourself a few seconds after, slick gathering around your hole and dripping into your sheets. You let out a small, humored moan, smiling. “Fuck, baby…”

Coming down from his high, he realized how his phone was situated, allowing you to see his face. But he couldn’t bring himself to fix it, not when he was watching you scoop your cum and slick and lick it off your fingers… his softening cock twitched.

God, he was getting hard again.

You giggled, giving him a lazy grin as you noticed his slack expression. “You like that? Watching me eat my own cum?”

He let out a strangled gasp. “Fuck, I…”

“I like you,” You declared, reaching for the towel and shoving it under you. “You’re willing to stick around?”

Are you kidding? He almost wanted to yell. This was probably the best orgasm he’s had in his life. Letting you skip was almost like letting somebody tease him with dessert and then handing it to somebody completely different. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I– yes,” He choked out, picking up his phone. “What’s your username?”

Slightly taken aback by his sudden directness, you tilted your head. “Oh? Baby, you’re greedy.”

He clenched his jaw. “I want to see you again.”

Maybe he can call you tomorrow. Maybe the following weeks. Maybe you can roleplay with him, satiate his kinks, satisfy his drive. Maybe he can meet you in person and actually fuck you—

Giggling, you buried yourself further into your pillows. “Hm… tempting. Well, baby, you are cute. It would be stupid for me to give you up.”

You spread your legs again, picking up your toy. “But I’ll give it to you later, m'kay? I’m not quite ready to let you sign off just yet…”

08.19.2024

#skz smut #stray kids smut #han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #smut #reader insert #kpop

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reidmania · 2 months ago

Text

sharpest tool | s.reid

(chapter four, motion sickness)

'I hate you for what you did and I miss you like a little kid. i faked it every time but that's alright. i can hardly feel anything, i hardly feel anything at all, I have emotional motion sickness somebody roll the windows down, there are no words in the english language, i could scream to drown you out'

summary; you never had someone make you feel safe enough to open up, until spencer. now trying to cope with his sudden absence you learn to lean on your new found friendship with his coworker, penelope.

warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad relationships, ghosting, commitment issues, self doubt & overthinking, preettyy angsty idk guys, no comfort yet but there is some fluff, and theres penelope & reader friendship!! reader lowkey shit talks spencer but he deserves it. reader is embarrassed & upset. reader is lowkey really mean, but shes coping guys. i think this is my favourite chapter out of all of them.

2.3k words

taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea a @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules

SERIES MASTERLIST

The lights are low, casting a soft, warm glow on the room, making it feel almost too cozy for the storm of emotions swirling inside of you. Penelope sits across from you on the other side of the coffee table, her vibrant personality seeming muted for once. She’s not wearing her usual bright colors, just a simple oversized shirt and pajama pants, the kind of clothes that scream comfort. It fits the night. It fits the conversation.

“You want to talk about it?” Penelope asks, voice gentle, but still full of that spark of energy that only she has. There’s no judgment there. Her eyes made you believe there never would be.

Your fingers tug absentmindedly at a loose thread on the hem of your sweatpants, the silence stretching between you like an invisible barrier. But it’s not an uncomfortable silence. Penelope doesn’t push. She doesn’t know you well enough to push. You’re not sure how to start, not sure how to talk about something you’re still struggling to process.

The night had consisted of making cookies, watching sickeningly sweet romance films you both gushed over — there were numerous times you had to stop your mind from drifting to Spencer, and when it did, you felt a sickening ache in your stomach. For the most part, besides those moments where the room fell quiet and your mind drifted, the night had been great.

“He just... stopped,” you whisper, voice barely audible, but Penelope catches it. Her eyes soften, and she leans forward slightly, offering silent encouragement for you to continue. "One day, Spencer was there, and the next... he wasn't. Theoretically of course..”

Spencer was different to anyone else you met, or at least he seemed that way. You thought he understood you. The way he listened, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way he made you feel like you could breathe around him. No one had ever done that for you before. But then, when things had started getting real—when you both were on the verge of making it official—he disappeared. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it was a commitment issue thing. Or if he really just had been playing with you the entire time.

“I don’t understand why,” you continue, the words tumbling out faster now, as if saying them out loud will make them make sense. “One day, we were close. He’d text me every morning. He’d ask how I was feeling, what I was doing. He made me feel… seen. Like he actually cared. And then, nothing. No calls, no messages. He just—”

“Ghosted you?” Penelope finishes for you, and the bluntness of the term hits you harder than you thought it would. You nod, feeling the sting of it all over again.

“He just disappeared,” you say, the words coming out harsh, jagged. You laugh bitterly, but there’s no humor in it. “Like I wasn’t even worth an explanation.”

Penelope’s hand reaches across the table, her fingers curling around yours in a comforting squeeze. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just lets you sit with the weight of your own pain. But her presence, her warmth, makes it feel a little less suffocating.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Spencer… he’s complicated. I don’t know why he did this to you, but I can tell you for sure, it’s not your fault. It never was.”

You close your eyes for a second, trying to swallow down the hurt, but it lingers there, a dull ache that refuses to fade. It’s not just about Spencer ghosting you; it’s about all the hope you had pinned on him. You thought he was different, thought he could be the person who made you feel safe in a way you had never felt before.

You couldn’t help the embarrassment you felt, all you had been thinking about for days was ‘how could i be so stupid.’ You had your guard up for a reason. You didn’t date for a reason, and the fact that you had let him let you forget that. You were so mad at yourself.

You missed Spencer more than you were willing to admit. Sleep evades you, and when it comes, it’s restless—haunted by the ghost of his touch. Your limbs grew weary, not from movement but from the effort of carrying the silence he left behind.

Your lips twitch into a bitter smile. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s on me. I was stupid for thinking it would be different.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Penelope says firmly, her voice suddenly fierce in a way that surprises you. “No. You were not stupid. You opened up because he made you feel like you could, and that’s on him, not you. He gave you the signals. He made the promises, and then he broke them. Spencer—he’s got his issues. He’s been through a lot, but that doesn’t excuse what he did to you. You deserved better.”

You pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as Penelope’s words sink in. It’s hard to believe that sometimes, that you deserved better. Spencer had made you feel like you could finally let your guard down, but in the end, it just made the hurt cut deeper. — Maybe thats all you’d ever deserve.

“He made me feel safe,” you admit, your voice breaking slightly. “Which i know sounds stupid— But— I don’t know.. I trusted him.”

“And then he took that away,” Penelope finishes, her voice softening again, filled with understanding. “It’s okay to be hurt. It’s okay to be angry. You opened up to him because you trusted him, and he didn’t treat that trust the way he should have.”

You nod, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay. You hadn’t wanted to cry tonight. You hadn’t wanted to break down. But being here with Penelope, his friend, his co-worker, who was so sweet and so understanding, it’s harder to keep everything bottled up.

“I just don’t get it,” you say, voice shaking. “Why would he make me feel like I mattered, like we were something, and then just leave?”

Penelope sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Spencer’s not great at dealing with his emotions,” she explains gently. “He’s always in his head, analyzing things, trying to make sense of the world. But feelings aren’t always logical. And sometimes… sometimes he runs from things he can’t control.”

You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “Well, he sure ran fast.”

Penelope gives you a sad smile, squeezing your hand again. “I know it doesn’t make it easier, but sometimes people can care about you and still hurt you. It doesn’t mean what you had wasn’t real. It just means he is an idiot.”

You stare down at your hands, the weight of her words settling on your shoulders. Maybe she’s right. Maybe Spencer did care about you in his own way, but that didn’t change the fact that he left you when you needed him most. It didn’t change the fact that you were still trying to pick up the pieces of your heart while he was nowhere to be found.

“I mean, he’s so damn smart, right? So.. So smart, always figuring things out. But apparently, figuring out how to treat people isn’t part of his skill set.”

Penelope chuckles softly, though there’s no real humor in it. “Yeah, sometimes Spencer’s great at solving every problem except the ones that really matter.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” you mutter, shaking your head. The frustration still courses through your veins, and you grip the fabric of your pants tightly, trying to channel it somewhere, anywhere. “I’m not going to sit around waiting for some half-assed explanation either. If he wanted to tell me why he bailed, he would have.”

She nodded her head. “He is dumb.” She said.

A laugh passed through your lips as you nodded quickly in agreement. “How is he so smart — and sweet yet such a fucking coward? I’m so pissed that he couldn’t even end things in person — that he didn’t even say anything.” You ran your hands down your face.

Penelope smiled. Maybe you were being mean in order to deflect from the hurt in your heart and the way your brain fizzled with an overwhelming ache for the comfort of Spencer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to ask him about it?” She asked.

You were quick to shake your head. While you were desperate for an answer of what you could have possibly done — you weren’t desperate enough to go through his friends to get an answer. You refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing you cared so much. “No. No- Please don’t— Does he even know we have been talking?” Penelope was quick to shake her head with a grin.

“Nope! I haven’t said anything to him.. I sent a photo to JJ earlier of your bobble head collection, but I highly doubt she would’ve just shown Spencer?” She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders slightly. The words made you frown, yet glad. You didn’t care about Penelope sharing your silly bobble head collection, it was something you were very proud of.

“I don’t really care if he knows. Is it bad I hope he is really mad? Like I hope he is really really pissed off about it. Is that petty?” You tumbled out the questions as your mind swirled. You hoped he was mad because at least then in some way maybe you could believe he cared.

“Yes. Definitely petty.” Penelope nodded, a playful smile on her face. “But— If anyone has a right to be petty, it’s you.. You’re handing this better than I would. i’d want to egg his house.” She shrugged, the words made a string of laughter leave your lips.

“I really really do want to” You said honestly, “maybe then he would have to say something” It was silly, but it would lie to say the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. It was childish, and immature and so petty, but leaving someone with no explanation was also just as childish and immature so in your head, it evened out.

“I reckon he would start crying” Penelope giggled.

“God I hope so.” you huffed out, running your hands through your hair before a small smile made way onto your lips as you looked up at the blonde women. The last thing you expected was to get along so quickly with the girl. You had expected it to be awkward between the two of you, but it wasn’t. You two spent hours watching silly chick-flics and laughing, before this conversation even started.

“Thank you- by the way. For this” you mumbled, referring to her just being there. She didn’t have to. She didn’t know you, she didn’t owe you anything, she was Spencer’s friend, not yours.

Penelope grinned widely, “Don’t thank me. I love boy genius but he can be such a tool sometimes without even realising it. He fucked up and you need somebody, plus who else would make sugar cookies with me?” She teased.

You curled up by Penelope’s side, smiling at her gently. You really were grateful. “Speaking of sugar cookies, do you think we could frost them yet?”

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pixiemage · 1 year ago

Text

Every so often I remember that I met one specific fellow MCYTer at a convention. And after already having been complimenting their (non-MCYT) cosplay, and after having already been chatting about MCYT for a few minutes, and after already having gone off on MULTIPLE nerdy tangents about the 3rd Life series, I then learned that I was currently speaking with the person who made the "Bang!" animatic.

And then I proceeded to gush about their animatic to their face, and they were surprised that I was speaking so highly of it (and it reminded me of another friend who is always equally surprised when I tell her just how impactful her art really is on the community). And then as they were leaving another friend of mine (cosplaying Bdubs) walked up to me, and I told HIM who I'd just met, and we both started (affectionately) freaking out. And then the beloved artist we were fangirling over must have heard our excited babbling from a distance, because they turned back to give us a brilliant smile before they went on their way.

Sometimes I think of them. And sometimes I hope they realize just how much joy they bring to the MCYT community. And sometimes it reminds me that I'm just like them, that I'm creating something fun because I'm passionate about it, just like they are, just like my friends are, just like every creator in this fandom is. And sometimes it reminds me that there's somebody out there who gets just as excited over what I write as I got over meeting a fellow fandom member who created something amazing in a different medium. Sometimes it reminds me that it's the little things that are often capable of bringing the most joy.

Sometimes it's nice to remember that we're all excited about each other, even if we're often too nervous to say it aloud. Sometimes it's nice to remember that we all appreciate each other, whether we say it or not. And sometimes it's nice to feel like I'm making a difference...and sometimes I think I have to remind people like me, that you're making a difference too.

#MCYT #Hermitcraft #Trafficblr #Empires SMP #To the creators within the MCYT fandom sphere #Your efforts and creations are not missed #Whether we say it to you directly or not #We all love what you do #We all love what you're gifting the world #And we love you

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zablife · 5 months ago

Note

*Skids to a halt after crashing through inbox door* DID SOMEBODY SAY SLEEPOVER? I am here, bestie!

Can I please request something spicy for my Italian husband? I will let you have creative choice over scenario. I’m craving some Luca smut in whatever form! 🤍🤍🤍🤍

Tysm for your request, Claire! I had so many ideas I wanted to share, but settled on this naughty encounter about the first time Luca makes you squirt. I would apologize for my filthy imagination, but I'm not sorry in the slightest 😂 I hope you enjoy!

18+ MDNI

Let Me Spoil You

"Luca, I'm not sure I can," you whimpered, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you studied him nervously. "I've never done this before."

"Then it's a good thing I have," he teased, sucking at the ticklish spot near your hipbone as your breathy moans filled the air. Pulling away to tongue the blossoming bruise, a mischievous smile spread across his lips as he returned his attention to your sticky inner thighs, peppering them with delicate kisses.

"Let me spoil you, principessa," he begged as though he hadn't already spent the entire evening lavishing you with attention.

You gulped and nodded slowly, opening your legs wider to welcome his touch. With a hitch of breath, you felt his long fingers slide against your dewy folds once more and into the tight clutch of your cunt.

Green eyes sparkling with nefarious delight, he wasted no time seeking the soft, spongy spot inside you that turned your legs to jelly. As he added firm pressure and lapped gently at your clit, the warmth in your belly returned with rapid speed.

Soft pants turned to whimpers as your hand fumbled in Luca's dark curls, grasping a bit too tightly as your brow furrowed at the odd tingling sensation. He drank in your adorable look of confusion, smirking at the memory of the times before when you'd stopped him, insisting you'd wet yourself if he continued. As he predicted you began to whine in a familiar high pitched wail that made his cock ache. "It's too much, Luca! I'm gonna...gonna..."

"Shhh, angel, you're doing so well for me," he cooed without giving you reprieve. Crooking his fingers against your sensitive walls in such a way that had you clamping down, hips bucking against him. He held you against the mattress with his muscular forearm, watching your face and neck begin to flush with the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, taunting, “You want it, don't you?"

A sizzle of electricity charged down your spine as he pumped his fingers within you, forcing shuddered breaths from your trembling body. Knowing you were staving off the inevitable, Luca added another finger, betting you wouldn't be able to fight the exquisite feeling of fullness. As your back arched against him, he praised, "You look so fuckin' beautiful like this." Then in that deep, commanding voice you couldn't ignore, "Cum for me, gorgeous."

Before you knew what was happening, a wave of pleasure crashed over you, black spots dancing across your vision as your legs shook. Luca moaned appreciatively as the first gush of fluid drenched his wrist, opposite hand pressing down on your abdomen to coax another squirt from your pulsing cunt. As your head dropped to your shoulder in exhaustion, Luca watched a little puddle collect with a swell of pride.

Focused on the pleasant little aftershocks rippling through your spent body, you were only vaguely aware of him withdrawing his fingers from you. The lewd squelching sound was soon replaced with the satisfied grunt of a man tasting his victory and you began to giggle. You'd never met a man who enjoyed giving pleasure so much as Luca Changretta.

He took such good care of you as evidenced by the gentle way he woke you after you'd drifted off to sleep, insistent on bathing you and changing the sheets before bedtime. Carrying you toward the bathroom for a hot soak in the tub, he nuzzled your check and whispered soft words of praise. “I knew you could do it, angel.”

Zablife Sleepover

-----------------------

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@red-riding-wood

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@little-diable

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@kmc1989

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@mostly-marvel-musings

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@anilovessadbooks

@tremendousstarlighttragedy

@elliaze

@leenieweenie

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@garrison-girl-08

@allie131313

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@ryecosse

@skydisneylover

@already-broken144

@mcumorningstar

@jaymcdowell

@iwantanoldfashionedmillionaire

@justlulu

#zablife ask box #zablife 2.5k celebration #DDD😈#Luca changretta #Luca Changretta x reader #Luca Changretta smut

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cheollipop · 2 years ago

Text

wet

navi | taglist

pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

w.c.: 2.1k

tags: smut, established relationship, non-idol!au

taking in the sight of wooyoung - soaked from head to toe, thin white shirt clinging to his chest and the metal bar piercing his nipple protruding from the wet material - you simply couldn't wait until you got home.

warnings: dom!woo, sub!reader, semi-public sex (they're in a public bathroom), slight exhibitionism, wooyoung has a nipple piercing, unprotected sex (👎), wall sex (wy is strong.... and has pretty veins.... ehem), pussy slapping, (very gentle) face slapping, squirting, rough oral sex (m receiving), spit kink, face-fucking, deepthroating, fingering (m receiving), cum-eating/swallowing, dirty talk, praise, nicknames (youngie, baby, pretty girl, good girl, darling, angel)

A/N: somebody restrain me. please.

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

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“Oh baby, you’re drooling everywhere. Am I fucking you that good?”

Wooyoung had you pressed against the wall in the cramped public bathroom, palms splayed out over your ass, veins protruding as he held you up and rammed his cock into your sopping heat.

“So-so good! Hnnngh-” You arched your back, pushing your chest into his. One of your hands slid down the soaked material of his shirt to circle two fingers over his nipple, tugging at the metal bar decorating it and feeling a fresh wave of arousal rush to your core at the groan it elicited from Wooyoung.

One look at Wooyoung while you were in the crowd, drenched from head to toe with the water the artists performing had sprayed you with, and your eyes couldn’t help but fixate on the metal adorning his perky nipple, prominent through the thin material of his white shirt. As soon as the last artist left the stage, you found yourself dragging Wooyoung to the nearest public bathroom, too impatient to walk to the car. Wooyoung, it turned out, was just as desperate, not wasting time before pushing you up against the wall, tugging your panties off and stuffing them in his pocket before sliding his cock inside you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively when one of his hands left its spot on your ass, cupping your jaw and sliding his thumb over your bottom lip, freeing it from the painful grip your teeth had on it. “Why’s my pretty girl being so quiet? Let me hear your voice.” He accentuated his words with a firm thrust, his cockhead pressing harshly against your g-spot, groaning when your walls clenched around him.

Your bottom lip found itself at the mercy of your teeth once again, Wooyoung’s hips snapping against your own forcefully, pushing you up against the wall with every thrust. You didn’t notice Wooyoung’s hand leaving your face and sliding between your bodies, neither did you expect three of his fingers landing sharply onto your clit, your body convulsing at the sudden pain.

“What did I say?” He leaned forward and bit down on your jaw, his hips unrelenting as he drove his cock into you, fucking the tip directly into your favourite spot and smiling lopsidedly at the uncontrolled shaking of your thighs around him. “Didn’t I tell you not to hold back your pretty voice?”

With your head lolling back as pleasure shot up your spine and your eyes fluttering shut, you missed how Wooyoung’s hand quickly moved to cup the back of your head, stopping it from hitting the wall behind you. Just as quick as he had done that, his fingers were back on your clit, your eyes shooting open when he dropped another painful slap onto the swollen nub. You gushed around him, releasing your bottom lip and emitting a desperate whine, hips rolling to meet Wooyoung’s cock halfway.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, breathing out a series of grunts and moans before speaking. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me now? Let everyone hear how good I’m fucking you?”

“Uh-huhh, want everyone to know h-how good Youngie f-feels-”

Wooyoung’s chest swelled with pride – you were so pliant and desperate, feet digging into his lower back and pushing him deeper inside your clenching pussy, eyes rolling to the back of your head while he ground his hips into you. He stuck his tongue out and licked up the drool leaking out the side of your mouth, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down. “That’s right, let them all hear how pretty you sound when you’re creaming all over Youngie’s cock.”

“Gonna- I-I’m gonna cum- please, please, please! Please don’t stop- Nghhh!” You chanted, high-pitched and desperate as he fucked you stupid, your pussy squelching every time he pumped his cock into your cunt.

“Yeah? Is my good girl gonna cum for Youngie?”

Your orgasm punched through you, sending hot flashes of ecstasy rushing through your whole body. Your thighs shook violently around Wooyoung’s waist as he fucked you through your high, his fingers working your clit and elongating the abuse to your nerves. The pressure in your abdomen released, a stream of hot, translucent liquid flowing out of you in streams, cascading down Wooyoung’s length and wetting his legs. He swallowed your cries of pleasure, his tongue licking over your teeth and pushing against the roof of your mouth. Slowing his hips down to a slow grind, Wooyoung eased his throbbing length out of your fluttering hole when you weakly pushed against his shoulder, the overstimulation becoming too much.

“Holy fuck,” Wooyoung panted, tilting his head to look between your bodies at the liquid streaming down his legs. “You’re fucking perfect.”

He crouched with you in his arms and set your limp body down on the cold tile, watching you adjust yourself until you were on your knees. He cupped your face and kissed over the damp skin, licking up and sweat and drool and leaving line of his spit to reflect the white light shining over you. He waited for you to catch your breath, sucking the delicate skin of your neck into his mouth and admiring as a trail of blossoming bruises decorated it. He stood back up, holding your jaw in both hands and angling your head upwards to look into your eyes.

You couldn’t help but glance at his cock, the tip red and angry as it stood drenched in your arousal. Your mouth salivated at the sight and you reluctantly moved your eyes back to Wooyoung’s, being met with a knowing look and a sly smirk tugging at his lips.

“Feeling okay?” He stroked your jaw and you nodded, your tongue peeking out to wet your lips. “Can you help Youngie out for a little longer?”

You nodded again, more frantically this time, allowing Wooyoung to guide your mouth to his weeping cockhead with one hand, the other holding himself at the base. He watched you place a few kitten licks over his head, lapping up the precum beading at the tip before he grew impatient with the desperate need to cum. He moved the hand holding his dick, landing a few firm slaps onto your cheek, hard enough to catch your attention. “Are you gonna stop teasing? Or should I fuck your mouth until you’re choking on my cum?"

He huffed out a laugh when your eyes widened, nodding your head instantly and parting your lips without him prompting you to. Wooyoung’s thumb slid into your mouth and hooked into the corner, prying your lips open even wider. He leaned down, looking into your pleading eyes for a moment before pursing his lips and shooting a hot wad of spit onto your tongue, watching your throat bob as you swallowed it down without hesitation. Wooyoung’s cock twitched at the sinful moan that escaped your lips and echoed in the cramped bathroom, quickly straightening up and pushing himself into your mouth.

He slid his length along your flattened tongue, all the way down until his cockhead teased your uvula, reveling in the feeling of your throat constricting around him as you resisted the urge to gag.

“Fuuuuck- oh darling, you look even more beautiful with your mouth around my cock.” Wooyoung’s eyes fluttered shut for a few seconds as he held back from coming down your throat, the hand cradling your jaw sliding back to fist into the damp hair at your nape. He ran his thumb over the corner of your stretched lips, thrusting shallowly into your mouth and watching tears well up in your eyes. “Baby- ah, breathe through your nose for me,” he instructed, barely coherent as pleasure shot up his abdomen.

You did as he said, feeling so full of cock, the bitterness of his precum paired with the sweetness of your arousal overwhelming your taste buds. Once Wooyoung knew you could breathe, he began pistoning his hips into your mouth, moaning a series of curses when you gagged around him, his cock pushing into the back of your throat.

“Can you taste yourself on me, angel?” Wooyoung breathed out, leaning his forehead against the wall and looking down at you, taking in the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth and reemerging drenched in your spit. He heard you gargle a response, chuckling lowly as he drove his hips into your mouth once more before pulling out, grabbing your jaw roughly and snapping your head upwards, waiting for you to stop coughing before speaking. “Tell me how I taste, darling.”

“S-so good, Youngie,” you panted, voice hoarse and throat scratchy. “More- I want more, please-”

Wooyoung cursed under his breath, taking one more look at your face – eyes red and cheeks stained with tears, mouth swollen and spit dripping from your chin – before sheathing his cock inside your mouth once again, a throaty moan ripping out of him.

You moved your hand between your legs, swiping two fingers through your dripping folds to saturate them with your arousal, then brought them back up to circle around Wooyoung’s rim. You felt him stiffen up momentarily before leaning into your touch, making you dig your digits harder into his puckered hole as it clenched around nothing.

Wooyoung’s moans turned high-pitched and airy, his hips stuttering when you sunk your middle finger into his tight heat. You gave him a few shallow thrusts before slipping in your ring finger and curling them against his walls. Wooyoung’s thrusts lost their steady rhythm, his fingers tugging harshly at your drenched hair as your fingers found his prostate.

“Fuck! R-right there-” He panted, running his cockhead over the roof of your mouth before sinking it back into your throat. “So perfect- s-so perfect for me, my precious baby. Sh-shit!”

You moaned at the praise he was so generously giving you, your free hand grabbing a handful of his ass and spreading him open so you could pound him even harder, watching as Wooyoung fell apart every time you rammed your fingers into his swollen gland.

“Oh, fuck, shit- I’m so fucking close,” he moaned breathlessly, gagging you on his dick with every forceful thrust into your mouth. “Hnngh- T-take my cum, darling-”

His hips bucked into you once, twice, and he was emptying his load into your mouth, shooting hot ropes of cum down your throat. It was so much, and you struggled to breathe around the sheer about amount of cum he was shooting into your mouth, but Wooyoung was shuddering violently with the force of his orgasm, tugging at your hair to slide you over his length, milking himself of every last drop. Your fingers fucked him through it, shoved so deep inside Wooyoung to grind against his prostate, pulling moan after moan from his lips.

His muscles spasmed with overstimulation and he grabbed your wrist to still your movements, your fingers slipping out of him and giving his rim a few firm taps as it clenched and unclenched uselessly.

Wooyoung pulled you to your feet, wrapping you up in his arms and burying his face into your neck, peppering kisses over the heated skin. “I love you so much,” he nipped at your jaw. “My pretty angel,” his fingers gently massaged your scalp, contrasting the way he was mercilessly tugging at your hair earlier. “So perfect for me.”

Wooyoung moved his head closer to yours, his hot breath warming your flushed skin, and his eyes traveled down to your lips – wet and bitten, much like his own. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, leaning in and pressing his mouth to the top one, sucking it into his mouth. His other hand circled around you and pulled you closer with his palm on your ass until your hips were flush, swallowing the breathy moan you emitted into his mouth.

The sudden banging at the door startled the both of you, pulling away abruptly as an enraged, unfamiliar voice sounded on the other side of the door.

“Fucking hurry up! You’ve got a line of people about to piss their pants out here!”

“Get a room!” an equally displeased voice added

You stifled a laugh, watching as Wooyoung bit down on his bottom lip in a attempt to do the same. He leaned in, unbothered by the infuriated screaming outside, whispering in your ear. “Can I make you squirt again in the car?”

You grinned, holding his face in both hands and pressing a firm kiss to his lips, pulling away and looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“You read my mind.”

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danosrosegarden · 6 months ago

Note

HIIII ELIII !!! firstly THANK YOU for all the work you do for danonation… you are our strongest soldier !!! 🙏🙏💕💕💕 secondly, i’d like to put in a request for the anniversary celebration !!! <3 if i could may i get glitz + edward nashton? i love that lil freak … maybe something with creepy mutual obsession? i need him to know i’m just as obsessed with him as he would be with me …. THANK YOU SO MUCH AAAH !!! ^_^

it's hot and we rot - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons (NSFW)

elijah's anniversary celebration: post three!

✨ glitz prompt: give me a character, and i will write a nsfw piece for them. ✨

{contains: male masturbation, public masturbation, underwear thievery, sub edward, and general mutual creepiness and obsession.}

♡ Sharp, grimy talons of guilt pierce through his heart and spill the thick, gushing blood all over each time he finds himself back in the bathroom next to his cubicle. Edward Nashton knows that there's nothing good in what he's doing. There never is.

♡ But God, does it feel right. Sorry. He really shouldn't tell you that, it might make you uncomfortable, he knows. But he thinks it's something you should know. An inky black secret too revolting and shameful to keep to himself. A slowly swirling python of perverse glee wraps itself around Edward's sweat-slicked body as he pulls your underwear out of his pocket: the carnival prize he'd won for himself last time he was over at your apartment.

♡ He hears your voice swimming around in his head as he wraps it around his cock, already slick with precum and throbbing a harsh, blushing pink. That's disgusting, Edward! I trusted you, I let you into my home, and that's what you do when I'm not looking? You're a fucking freak, you know that?

♡ Jesus. He's already biting down hard on his cracked lips so as to not alert his coworkers. It's all a rolling ball of sharpened knives, a blazing firecracker of intensity...the thought of your horrified look and cruel, venom-laced words spat into his face. The idea that somebody in the office could walk in at any moment and accidentally catch sight of him through the spaces in the stall doors, crimson-cheeked and leaking all over his tightly-gripped hand.

♡ His mind runs chaotically wild as he pumps himself, the fluorescent light above his head humming a low, growling buzz. You. He wants you. He doesn't give a fuck what he has to do. He'll beg for scraps. He'll whine and plead. He'll get on his knees and pray. God, he just wants you.

♡ Heat. It rushes through his body, injects itself straight into his bloodstream. He feels the white-hot warmth tingling deep in his gut as a high whine slips from the slits in his clenched teeth. It feels dirty, what he's doing, but that's part of the charm. He feels appalling, painting his hand with thick dribbles of cum in his workplace bathroom while thinking of your acidic, outraged insults, but he cannot stop himself.

♡ Maybe it's for the better that Edward doesn't know how deeply you want him, too. He's hardly able to be around you as is without the sickening thoughts infecting his brain...if he knew you reciprocated, he would never be able to calm himself down.

♡ For sure, Edward would explode if he knew about the picture of him you kept in your bedside drawer. You took it on your Polaroid while he was over one evening, destressing from work. His smile is crooked and his hair is ratty, but that was the picture. The picture you held tight in your hand when you masturbated and whispered his name into the hot, blanketing air of your bedroom. The picture you stared longingly at when the aftershocks subsided. My precious boy. Sweet angel. I wish I could ruin you.

♡ Edward stuffs his prize back into his pocket and washes his hands with a sheen of light sweat dusted across his forehead and a heavy coat of shame wrapped around his shoulders. He knows deep down in the depths of his heart that you're far too good for him. He'd actually much rather be the loser moaning and writhing to the thought of you than risk the friendship he'd somehow managed to obtain. At least he'd gotten away with his gross thievery. Nothing more, he promised himself. There is no going further.

♡ He also knows deep down in the depths of his heart that there was no stopping the enormity of his depraved desire. It was famished and on the hunt for any fragment of you it could find. And if only he knew the same hunger lived within you, chronically clawing at your gut, demanding more, more, more. God, if only he knew.

#eli's writing #danonation #paul dano #edward nashton #the riddler #the batman #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #edward nashton x you #the riddler x you #edward nashton x y/n #the riddler x y/n #elijah's anniversary celebration 24

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inkykeiji · 1 year ago

Text

say you’ll love me to death, cause i will

character: todoroki touya | dabi x fem!reader

genre: smut

notes: alright, so we’ve discussed how touya-nii would react to encountering the man who took your virginity, but let's talk about how you would respond to running into the woman who took touya’s. set in my touya-nii au! as always please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title credit: RUNRUNRUN by dutch melrose

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (stepcest), public sex, minimal prep, extreme jealousy, toxic relationship

words: 4.7k

synopsis:

“Well, that’s alright! How long have you two been together?” And, oh, the giggle that bubbles past your lips is downright sinister, fucking caustic, burning your tongue and eroding your teeth. No, you’re not his girlfriend, or his partner, or his significant other. You’re something so much better.

You’re off minding your own business, legs swinging idly on a bar stool as you wait for your designated reservation time, when it happens, when she appears.

“Touya?”

The name cuts through the blurred noise of the restaurant, both yours and Touya’s attention snapping to the source: a woman, late twenties or so, waving a little in indication on the other side of the bar.

She’s snaking through the patchy crowd, busy unfastening her hair from the intricate bun its been woven into—a requisite for all the waitresses at this establishment—eyes bright, smile brighter.

You don’t even know who she is; not technically, anyway, had never thought to press the issue any further than a simple how’d it happen, had never cared enough to try—especially not when he had been sleeping with so many others right in front of you.

It hadn’t seemed to matter much then. Not the way it matters now.

But she exists, because she must, because somebody would’ve had to take it, would’ve had to be the first, one way or another.

Doesn’t mean you have to like it.

She’s pretty, but you wouldn’t expect any less. Touya stands as she reaches the two of you, pulling your body up with him.

But then Touya greets her, a name you’ve heard kicked around every now and then, and it all fully, finally clicks.

Touya’s first.

“Oh my God,” she’s gushing, “I haven’t seen you in—What’s it been now? Over ten years?”

“Just about,” he responds easily, readjusting his grasp reassuringly on your hip as you cling to him, large palm flattening against your abdomen and hugging you closer to his side, tucked protectively beneath his arm.

“What are the chances! You look...” her eyes scan his body once, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, then back up again, and your fingers flex, coiled and rigid in the material of his shirt, stiff joints already aching. “Wow, incredible!”

“Thanks,” Touya says, an awkward lull in the conversation when he doesn’t repay the compliment.

Their discussion meanders for a little bit—how have you been, what are you doing now, remember when...?—most of it muddled by the blood roaring in your ears and jealousy burning in your throat.

But then her fingertip is just barely grazing his forearm as she points in indication at the ink etched into his skin, and your ears tune into their frequency again, white-hot fury slicing through hazy envy.

“I remember when you started this one,” she’s reminiscing. “You finally finished all of the pieces,” she says with another appreciative glance, and you grip him tighter, the skin of your knuckles pulled so taut it’s starting to hurt. “It’s so breathtaking to see them all come together.”

And you hate the way she speaks to him with a certain type of familiarity; an old friend, effortless and full of laughs, someone who knew him long before you did, when you were only in grade school.

God, how rude of her not to introduce herself, she’s telling you as she finally turns toward you, finally takes notice of you, rooted in Touya’s side; a growth he planted there himself, shoved between his ribs and engrained in his soul, roots so tangled you’re both irremovable, inseparable, now.

She holds out her hand in greeting, but you only clutch Touya more firmly, nails scraping against starched cashmere, face half-hidden in his chest, childish and petulant.

The woman’s smile drops from her face, a slow drooping of her mouth as her forehead crinkles, confusion bleeding through her features.

“She’s shy,” Touya says as way of explanation, but that wolfish smile is stretched sharply across his cheeks, teeth gleaming in the dim light.

“I see,” she says, almost hesitantly, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before they flit back to Touya’s face, expression brightening again. “Well, that’s alright! How long have you two been together?”

And, oh, the giggle that bubbles past your lips is downright sinister, fucking caustic, burning your tongue and eroding your teeth.

No, you’re not his girlfriend, or his partner, or his significant other.

You’re something so much better.

“Oh, we’re not a couple. This is my little sister.”

And, oh, how this is always your favourite part.

You know that it’s his favourite part, too.

Because the way that shock and disgust eats through their confusion, fucking devours any other emotion on their face, is better than anything else in the entire world. The way their expression churns into something twisted and repulsed sends sordid little thrills racing through your veins, blood buzzing with adrenaline.

The two of you must be such a fucking sight, expressions handcrafted by the Devil himself, with glowing eyes—gluttonous gazes gobbling up every little expression, two pairs wide and frantic as they glide across her face—and smug little smirks, points of your mouths so sharp they could pierce the flesh of a fingertip if touched.

Her voice sputters a little, snagging in her throat as she struggles to find the proper words, blinking rapidly, as if trying to clear the scene in front of her.

“I—Uh, I didn’t know you had another little sister?”

It’s phrased as a question, her voice beginning to tremble, unnerved as her stare swaps between your faces.

“My mom remarried,” Touya says simply. “This one came packaged with the deal.”

He jostles you in his arms a little—showing off his favourite, precious, most coveted prize—and you cuddle into him, burrowing into his chest a little, fingers flexing in his dress shirt as you clutch him tighter, gathering healthy handfuls of cashmere in your scrunched palms, buttons beginning to strain beneath the strength of your grip.

And he states it proudly, as if he’s glad to own you, to be your big brother, to call you his, staring down at you with so much fondness it melts his hard eyes, sapphire turned to something thick and gooey.

“Oh,” the woman responds, but her voice wavers through a wobbly smile on her face, lips unsure if they want to grin or grimace. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah,” Touya responds, though his eyes do not leave yours, voice softening. “I got pretty fuckin’ lucky. Don’t think I could’ve asked for anything better.”

You can feel the sick, sadistic glee radiating off of him in dense waves—something heavy, something intoxicating—and, if this girl knows him well enough, you’re sure she can, too.

It’s so thick it’s nearly suffocating, but you breathe it in readily, greedily, draw it into your lungs and let it marinate in your tissues—infect, consume, decay.

“We should go for drinks sometime!” her unnaturally chipper tone snaps the trance, draws both of your gazes back to her. “You know, to catch up and all that.”

A noise shudders your ribs, something between a growl and a whine, and Touya laughs as if it’s so fucking cute, looking back down at you with so much adoration in his eyes it’s nearly spilling past his lashes.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, but his stare never breaks yours. “Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Mr. Todoroki?” a smooth voice floats above the indistinct murmur of the venue. “Your table is ready.”

“Ah, that’s us,” Touya says to you.

“It was nice—”

But you’re already turning away, a single entity in the way you move, think, breathe, be.

“I don’t like her,” you’re grumbling as Touya guides you toward the hostess, not caring that she’s still very clearly in earshot, the confession spilling from your mouth almost subconsciously, having pried past your lips, desperate to be heard.

“I can tell, baby,” Touya snorts, though the smile on his face is soft.

“I—I don’t even wanna eat here anymore,” you sulk, feet starting to drag, words filtered through a deep pout. “And I don’t ever want to see her again!”

It comes out as a demand, a little harsher and firmer than you had intended, uncharacteristically surly, and Touya stops.

Blinking down at you, Touya’s face falls, features suddenly serious, all mirth evaporated from his expression in an instant.

His head dips, voice dropped to a low, dire murmur—something secret, something just for you.

“You want me to kill her for you? Huh, princess? Does niichan need to get rid of her?”

And, oh, how your heart soars, swells, swoops then nearly bursts from your ribs, desperate to claw its way from your chest and into the palms of its owner. Tears rush to cloud your eyes, vision thick and bleary, and two large hands cup your jaw, tilting your face to his.

“I’ll do it, baby, I swear to God. All you gotta do is say the word.”

He will. You know he will. You love that he will.

“I love you,” you nearly whimper, hands pawing at him urgently, the words a garbled mess in your mouth, weighted with spit and tears. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he laughs a little, but concern is warping his features, eyes sweeping across your face in search of an answer.

His hand squeezes your jaw gently, callouses decorating the pad of his palm scuffing your soft skin as he holds you in place.

“Just tell niichan what he needs to do to make this better.”

Your gaze holds his for a moment, heavy and unblinking.

“Fuck me,” you finally say. “Remind me who I belong to, remind me who you belong to, remind the whole fucking world who we belong to.”

Sapphire turns to navy, lips spreading into something sinful.

He can do that.

The parking lot is sparsely populated, rows of cars jagged and gapped like knocked out teeth. A small cluster of people hover outside the restaurant’s golden doors, encased in a hazy cloud of smoke and murmuring quietly amongst themselves, and a few people are scattered throughout the lot, just arriving or preparing to leave, but for the most part, you are alone.

The Audi is parked near the back, narrowly missing a pool of white light from one of the tall lampposts.

A chuckle is huffed from tattooed lips, shining eyes trained on your profile as you march toward the car, his long legs easily keeping up with your own.

His baby is on a mission tonight.

“You know, it’s really cute,” he’s saying as he presses you up against the driver’s door, “to see to see you so fucking determined.”

“Want everyone to know you belong to me,” you whine a little, forehead scrunching as your pout deepens.

“Is that so?”

“That is so.”

“And how would you like to show everyone that niichan is yours?” he murmurs into your flesh, lips tracing the curve of your neck.

“Want—Want you to fuck me, right here.”

“Right here?” his hips shove against yours in emphasis. “In the car?”

“No,” your hips push back into his, back arching, already so needy for him. “Right here, in the parking lot. I want that bitch to see.”

And for once, you do not get scolded for such foul language.

“Yeah?” Touya’s breathing into your mouth, hands already rucking up your little cocktail dress. “All out in the open where everyone can see how much of a little whore you are for your big brother?”

“Right here, right here,” you’re nodding, words cracking with desperation. “Right now.”

“So greedy, my little sister is.”

“I don’t care,” you gasp. “Show them, Touya-nii, show them all.”

And he’s so fucking hard you swear you can feel his cock throbbing with each rush of blood, each of your little pleads and dirty words sending another bout of it southward, swear you can feel it twitching and gorging with lust.

“You don’t care, huh?” Hardened fingertips sink into the plush flesh of your ass, kneading a little as his hips gyrate in pitiful little circles, more teasing than anything else.

“No, no,” you’re shaking your head. “I want it now!”

A palm collides with your flesh, hard and sharp, the sound echoing out among the space, chased by your resounding yelp. It draws a handful of glances from the throngs of people loitering around the restaurant’s entrance, but doesn’t keep their attention for long.

“Don’t be impatient, now,” Touya warns, but the glint in his eyes begs you to keep misbehaving. “Get my cock wet first.”

Your face falls as your fight fades, a small frown on your lips.

“Wh-What?”

“You want my cock so badly, baby? Get it fucking wet, then.”

He pauses, watching you closely, smirk growing into something sinister when you freeze in hesitation.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” he pouts, and it’s so condescending it scathes your cheeks. “Not so bold and brave now? I thought you wanted everyone to know; I thought you wanted to show everyone who I belong to,” his tongue tuts, head shaking in mock disappointment, “and you can’t even take my cock down your throat?”

“I do,” you nearly growl, eyes flashing with sudden jealousy, uncharacteristically fierce.

His expression softens, that sharp glint in his eye dulled to a smoldering glow, full of fondness.

“Then get niichan’s cock wet,” he says, hips shoving against yours in emphasis again, “so he can fuck you properly.”

And although it is still very much a demand, a direct order, his voice is tender, his edges worn down by years of affection.

Sliding down his body, your fingers furl in the waistband of his suit pants and tug a little, pulling his hips closer to your face. The buckle of his belt clanks heavily as you tug it undone, the button on his trousers pops easily, and then you’re yanking them halfway down his thighs, freeing his cock.

It’s so fucking pretty, dusty pink from base to tip and smoother than the most expensive velvet, and you just can’t help but nuzzle your cheek into the head with a cute little hum, smearing a thick stroke of pearlescent pre-cum across your skin.

But you know that Touya doesn’t like that, no matter how beautiful you look with his pre-cum slathered all over your face, that Touya can’t stand anything he deems even remotely teasing, and you’re quick to wrap a hand around the shaft as the beginnings of a growl rumble against his ribs, feeding him to yourself.

“S’it, there you go,” he praises as you gorge on him, stuffing him down your throat in a single swallow, reflexive tears burning your eyes.

Lashes flutter quickly, desperate to clear your vision, little drops of crystal collecting in the wispy strands.

It’s pathetic, really, how much your heart soars with such bland praise. But it doesn’t matter, you don’t care, willing to soak up any scraps he’ll afford you, an addict endlessly chasing a fix.

You force your mouth open wider, hinges of your jaw stretching, straining, your tongue curling around the underside as you suck him in further, viscous globs of drool already beginning to collect at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, swallow me whole, baby,” he breathes, gaping pupils glittering with a thin ring of cobalt. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.”

A choked little whine, muted by his cockhead grinding itself into your throat, vibrates, evoking a cracked little moan of his own, hips twitching involuntarily, an instinctual reaction, searching for more.

The asphalt is rough against your knees, skinning them with superficial little scrapes as Touya fucks your mouth a few times; first slowly, breath huffed out through spit-slicked lips as he glides in steadily, inch by inch, voracious eyes watching as your wet mouth puckers around his shaft, coating it in thick, gleaming saliva.

He whimpers a little as the tip of your nose scrunches so cutely as he presses it to his pubic bone, holds it for a breath and savours the way your throat flutters with hiccups and gags before pulling nearly all the way from your mouth, repeating the process as he gains momentum; then faster, harder, cockhead rubbing against the back of your tongue, each quick stroke leaving bitter streaks of pre-cum.

And you hate how his palms are pressed against your ears, muffling every sweet sound you manage to elicit from him as he holds your head still, his thumbs pressing into your cheekbones, nails biting shallow crescents into the skin as they dig deeper, grasp tightening as your face becomes slippery with tears, cascading over his knuckles.

Even so, his grip isn’t enough to keep the back of your skull from banging off the door of the Audi, each thrust procuring a dull thud of flesh against metal.

And, Christ, what a beautiful symphony it all creates; the rhythmic sound of your head thwacking against his car, the dainty jingle of his belt buckle, hanging heavy and undone and bouncing between your chin and his thigh, those precious gags and gurgles and sniffles and hiccups that he loves so much, choked off and snuffed out as his cock rams them back into your chest, the half-stifled sounds that keep shattering to pieces on his tongue, shards swallowed down with difficulty, scraping against the walls of his throat and leaving his voice ragged and raw.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” he’s panting as his fingers thread through your hair, fisting at the roots and dragging you off of him. “S’a shame, because you look so pretty,” a rough thumb skims over your swollen, glossy lip, his gaze following its trajectory. “But I wanna cum in your cunt, not your throat.”

And then he’s pulling you back up from the ground, strong arms wedged beneath your own and hoisting you into the air, your legs instinctually wrapping around his waist, locked securely at the ankles as they hook together at the base of his spine, thighs squeezing around his hips in anticipation.

He pins you to the metal of the Audi, one palm securely cupping your ass as the other wraps around the base of his cock, hips inching back just enough to find your hole.

The head, now slicked with your spit, glides over your clit twice—a cheeky little tease, just to hear you whine his name again, all stringy and petulant through a swollen pout—then down your slit until it catches on your hole.

It stings as he forces himself into you, always does no matter how wet you are, no matter how much you’ve slobbered all over his shaft, because Touya routinely refuses to prep you at all—not that you would’ve let him, not tonight—because he loves it, too, he loves it just as much as you do.

He loves the sharp little hiss pushed through the gaps of your teeth by your tongue, he loves the gentle fluttering of your cunt as your most delicate skin stretches, splits itself open for him, to suck him in and swallow him down, he loves that sweet sigh that melts from your mouth as he bottoms out, slathered over his own huff of breath, conjoined relief.

“Touya-nii, Touya-nii,” you’re whimpering out, fingers curling against his shoulders.

“M’here, baby, m’here,” he pants out, forehead pushing against your own, eyes slipped shut.

And for a moment everything is still, breath held stagnant in swelling lungs as you both savour this feeling—of fullness, of closeness, of wholeness—appreciation unhindered by noisy exhales or slapping skin.

Then his hips are moving, gyrating in little circles that gain speed with each completed motion, cockhead grinding into your cervix.

He can’t exactly fuck you properly like this, can’t exactly fuck you like he wants to, like he normally would, not all out in the open like this.

But he manages to make do, the pace quick right from the start, shallow fast snaps of his hips that have the buckle of his belt is clanging against his car, leaving superficial little scratches just below the door handle.

It’s all still so fucking hot, though, his forehead pressed tightly to yours as he exhales nicotine-tinged breath across your face, each one pushed from his chest with the rapid little ruts of his hips.

It’s all so fucking naughty, fucking out in the open where anyone who’s paying more than a shred of attention can see, his movements just barely hidden by the flesh of your thighs, cushioning his hips.

The thought that anyone could be watching, touching themselves, filming you has your muscles tightening and your stomachs fluttering, the dirty, illicit nature inspiring another rush of adrenaline to taint your blood.

Your mouth drops open, starved for more of him—never satisfied, are you, greedy lil thing—welcoming his huffs onto your tongue, spicy and sweet as hickory. Your tongue unfurls from your mouth, dumb and lazy and so fucking messy, licking at his lips in quick, uneven strokes, sopping up any remnants of his essence.

The tip slithers between his parted lips, kittenishly lapping at the edges of his teeth, tracing the sharp ridges one by one, and he laughs, warm and airy.

His own tongue shoves against yours, pushing it from his mouth and back into it’s rightful home before he flattens the slick muscle against your face and drags it, slow and steady, from the point of you chin to the tip of your nose, leaving behind a thick, fat trail of cooling saliva painted across your face.

The action has you squealing, scrunching up your nose as you involuntarily suck your bottom lip between your teeth and suck it clean.

His scent is strong, now saturating your skin as it dries, tight and hard, on your face, sealed by the breathless little giggle he exhales across your cheeks.

And, Christ, he’s so fucking gorgeous, strands of alabaster plastered to his forehead and stuck to his temples in scraggly strings, clumped into damp little tufts that curl up at the base of his neck, drops of sweat balancing precariously on the points.

His rough, quick movements have them breaking free, glistening drops of sweat rolling down his puckered skin, tracing the curve of his neck, streaking ink and ivory with glimmering little trails. They pool in the dips of his collarbones and soak into the collar of his shirt, turning cashmere translucent.

The sleek muscles in his forearms flex beneath inked skin, gliding as he readjusts his grip, holds you closer, hugs you tighter, fucks you harder.

His whole body is covered in a sheen layer of sweat, urgently chasing that high that only his little sister can gift him, sharp pistons of his hips keeping you pinned to the car while he uses you as his personal little toy, his favourite little toy, forcing you to just take it.

And yet, despite it all, his eyes are bright, his lips molded into a brilliant smile, a sick sort of love stained with exhilaration—the thrill of getting caught: fucking all out in the open, fucking your family—brimming in his gaze.

He’s such a fucking pro, knows you and your body better than anyone else ever has, ever could, ever will, angling his hips so they fuck you just right, each stroke of his cock an upward curve, dragging against that puffy spot buried deep within your cunt, head swiping against your cervix with each draw back.

Across the lot, that girl is fiddling with the keys to her shitty little car, rooting around for something in her bag, and Touya laughs—a loud, booming sound, heavy with deranged delight that echoes throughout the space, garnering the attention of a smattering of bystanders.

“Look,” he nudges his head to the right, your gaze following his own, slippery cheeks pressed flush together. “She’s watching. She can see you, sweetheart—can see us, can see you’re mine and I’m yours.”

Good. If she hadn’t already figured it out before, it should be abundantly fucking obvious now, who he belongs to.

“She—She looks disgusted,” you snicker.

Even from several meters away, she does, you can tell, face twisted up somewhere between horror and shock, eyes wide and unblinking as they scan your conjoined forms, brow scrunched and chest beginning to heave.

She looks like she’s going to be sick.

You hope she is.

“Oh, she doesn’t even know—fuck—the half of it, does she?” Touya keens, hips faltering for just a moment before regaining their momentum. “Why don’t we give her something to really be repulsed by?”

Yes, yes, yes, you’re nodding your head, little mewls of affirmation spilling from your throat.

“Give your big brother a kiss, then.”

And oh, how eager you are, ever his good girl, ever his best girl, arms tightening around his neck as you pull yourself closer, smashing your lips to his. Dainty fingers thread through the hair at the back of his scalp, soaked with salt, and tug harshly, enough to have a reactionary hiss slipping through his teeth.

Using the opportunity, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth between your teeth, clamp down hard and yank backwards, so hard his lip stretches like shimmering, pink bubblegum, gums beginning to strain until it finally slides free of your hold, teeth scraping against flesh. He spits out a curse, muddled and chased by a laugh, tongue laving over the indents you left, now weeping copper.

“Niichan’s gonna get you back for that one,” he says, sadistic glee shimmering in his eyes almost as pretty as the crimson glazing his mouth.

You’re sure he will, too, later tonight, with that cherished knife you gifted him last year.

The giggle that pours past your lips is fucking raucous, leaves your tongue sticky and tingling, so wicked it rivals your brother.

“I wanna show her, niichan,” you’re panting out, voice fading into a whine. “I want to show her that you’re mine.”

“Do it, baby,” he breathes. “Show the whole world how fucking gorgeous you look cumming for your big brother.”

Three more rapid pumps of his hips and you’re convulsing around him, cunt clenching almost viciously around his cock as your heat gushes down his shaft, sticky and messy and so much, so much it pools in the folds of his heavy balls, so much it streams down his taut thighs and soaks the waistband of his trousers, so much it dribbles down the metal of the Audi, smeared across the door in sloppy strokes.

“Mi-Mine,” you growl, thighs squeezing around him as if you’re attempting to milk more juices from yourself, trying to stain him with you and stake your claim.

“Yeah,” he nearly moans, hips beginning to stutter. “Yours, baby, niichan’s yours. Tell him again.”

“You’re mine!” you sob out, nails gripping the sleek muscle of his shoulders with such strength the joints of your fingers crack and ache, clawing at him as if you’re trying to gorge every part of you on him, eat up every piece of him you can, stuff every bit of you as full of him as physically possible.

“Fu-Fuck,” he keens, the curse shattering in his throat. “That’sa—That’s my good girl.”

He’s close now, you can tell; can hear it in the way his words keep splintering on his tongue, can feel it in the way his thrusts have gone from precise and particular to loose and sloppy, an urgent, uneven rutting of his hips.

“Fill me, fill me, fill me with your cock, niichan,” you’re gasping out, scrabbling at his neck, scraping skin and sweat beneath your nails. “Fill me with your cum, fill me so much, fill me until I can’t take anymore and it starts le-leaking out, all—all over the place.”

And, well, he’s never been one to deny his precious baby sister what she wants.

Because then he’s complying, hips stammering to a halt and pressed flush to your ass as his cock throbs, stuffing you full of thick, burning cream.

“More! More, more,” you’re gasping out as you try to fuck yourself on his twitching cock, desperate to pump him for everything he’s got to give, eliciting a breathless, broken little laugh falling from his lips.

“S’all yours,” he manages to slur out, slumping a little against his car, knees beginning to quiver as his cock strives to please you, giving another weak spurt of cum. “S’all yours, princess, always.”

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi smut #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya x you #todoroki touya smut #tw:pseudocest #tw:toxic relationship #tw:minimal prep #tw:public sex

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the-nameless-poet · 8 months ago

Text

Picture with Prongs.

Summery : You ask James Potter, who is your boyfriend to help you win in a not so sirius sibling rivalry. Muggleborn!reader.

Pairings : James Potter x reader

You and your sister had a cute sibling rivalry going on between you, where you send the pictures of your adventures every week and decide who had more interesting week than the other.

It was a way for you and your sister to stay bonded and stay updated on everything going on in each other's lives. Even though she's roll her eyes at all the wizard stuff you told her you knew that she'd run up to your room and get comfortable on your bed and ask all the questions about the wizarding world. She was only a minute and a half younger than you, she was practically your bestfriend. You even took James 'round your house to meet your family this summer. And your sister and him had loads of fun teasing you and roasting you about your clumsiness and dramatic attitude.

You loved both of them and seeing them bond like that made you feel not so bad about them teasing you. And then you both decided to set up a double date and you, James, your sister and her boyfriend went to a cute cafè that you both loved and had a really great time.

Coming back to present, you were holding a Polaroid that your sister sent you of her and an extremely adorable golden retriever. To say you envied her was an understatement but to top that so you can win this week's 'adventures of L/N girls' and get your picture in the 'babes through years' photo album. Cause you've been losing since last 4 weeks! And that is unacceptable! Your mum and dad sent you a letter expressing their 'disappointment' about the fact that you've gone down to the boring alley and their 'concern' that you won't ever be back and they'll loose their oldest daughter forever. Oh the blasphemy!!!!

"Hey, bub! What you thinking about, love?" Your thoughts were interrupted by James sitting beside you and kissing your temple.

"Nothing. Just thinking about how I'll top this week's 'adventures of L/N girls'." You let out a loud sigh. And handed him the Polaroid picture.

"Awhh, that's adorable." You smacked the back of his head.

"Sorry...You know you can just send her a picture of you with Hagrid. I'm pretty sure that'll be adventurous enough. Meeting a half giant." He said while serving himself a plate of the dinner served on the gryffindor house table.

"No. I can't. She knows Hagrid. Think something better James!" You smacked his arm this time.

"Stop hitting me, woman! I'm already yours. No need to hit on me." He winked at you.

"Jamie..." You stretched his name with a whine.

"Wingardium laviōsa somebody's arse up and take a picture. I'm sure a flying human will please her." He said nonchalantly and took a bite from his plate.

"Already did." You grumbled. He almost spit his food out.

"When!? Who!?" He exclaimed.

"4th year. Sirius." He let out a loud laugh.

"Oh, darling, I love you so bloody much!" He let out a loud giggle.

"I know it was pretty amazing but that's not the point here. I've gotta out do her this time. She's been winning for past four weeks." You pouted.

"Yeah well, let's just think for a while."

"Think about what?" Sirius asked as him, Remus and Peter sat down.

"She needs an idea to win this week's 'adventures of the L/N girls'" James informed them.

"Oh the pictures are here? Show me." Sirius clapped his hands together.

You gave the picture to him and he awed loudly.

"Alright, it's taking a lot in me to say this but that's the most adorable pup I've ever seen." Sirius gushed over the picture and you just banged your head on the table.

"Yeah, there is no chance you can win this week. Try next time maybe." Remus teased while piling up his plate with chicken and gravy.

"ughhh!" You let out a low groan and stared at nothing in perticular while thinking about how you can win this week. Then an idea suddenly popped into your brain making a light bulb go off.

"I know how I can win this week. Oh I'm such a genius." You wore a pretty smile on your face. You were quite proud of yourself for thinking it.

"Well, care to share it with the class?" James said while taking a bite of his chicken.

"Yeah. You see once my sister told me that she always wanted to get a picture taken while standing next to a deer. When she was a kid she used to love Bambi and she still does. So, my dear Jamie can you please, pretty please take a picture with me." You batted your eyelashes at him while making the best puppy eyes you could.

"No." To say you were shocked was an understatement. James never says no to you.

"Why?" You asked with a heavy frown.

"I'm not some kind of patting zoo animal!" He exclaimed with a blush on his face. You quickly picked up on the fact that he was shy and embarrassed of getting a picture taken in his animagus form.

"Why!?"

"Because it's... Weird... I just don't like the idea of it. Sweetie you know I'd do anything you'd ask me to. But not this. Please." His eyebrows were furrowed.

"But Jamie then I won't win." You said with a big pout and puppy eyes.

"I know doe but just not this one, okay?" He kissed the top of your head.

He didn't want to take a picture in his animagus form because he thought he looked silly. But he didn't know any better. He looked magnificent in his animagus form. A stag. With huge antlers and a beautiful face. He was perfect. And all you had to do was make him realise that. But how?

Anyways that night you were head bent on convincing him. So you did what you know how to do best. Seduce him. And let's just say you were pretty persuasive. (He made you promise a week full of blow jobs. And then he finally said yes.)

So the next day you put on a cute summer dress and set up a picnic blanket with empty basket as a set up and the marauders followed you into the dark forest.

After you reached the dark forest, James turned into his animagus form and stood clueless in the middle of the forest. When Peter tried to get a picture of just prongs he stuck his tongue out but it still turned out to be an adorable picture.

Next thing you asked Peter to take multiple pictures with you standing beside Prongs. One where you were admiring his antlers. Another one where you pat his head. One where you planted a kiss right between his two doe-eyes. James was loving this. The affection he was getting, the closeness he felt. The warmth of your hand caressing his coat. The last picture was with you feeding an apple to Prongs. But then Sirius wanted to join this picture party.

So you took a picture with a black dog smothering you in kisses and a very jealous looking pissed off stag. And another one with you standing in the middle of Padfoot and Prongs and Wormtail sitting on top of your head. Remus took that picture. Every single one of them was adorable. After you were done you went back to the castle and went to the kitchen to pick up some snacks. You owled all your pictures and joined your boyfriend on the couch infront of the fire place and cuddled in his side.

"You know guys, today I realised that you guys are the coolest and most adventurous things I have in my life. And I just feel so happy about it." James smiled down at you and gave you a long peck. And Sirius came jumping beside you and joined yours and James' cuddle party and soon you found yourself wrapped in a blanket with four amazing gentlemen. And you felt like the luckiest girl in the whole fucking world.

And ofcource you won 'the adventures of L/N girls' that week.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #james potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #james potter #remus x sirius #remus lupin #wolfstar #the marauders #sirius black #peter pettigrew #james sirius remus and peter #i love harry potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #harry james potter x reader

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lllivia · 8 months ago

Note

Lottie Matthews x tired fem reader

Reader is overworking herself because she's stressed about very important exams that will guarantee she gets to the college she wants, but lottie noticed this, and just drags her away from her desk to cuddle and pamper little cutie kisses all over her face, body, basically everywhere until Reader falls asleep :((

U said to send requests, so idk if this one is all that good 🥹

I'll always take care of you

Lottie Matthews xf!reader

a/n: AHH I HOPE THIS IS OK, I'VE NEVER REALLY GOTTEN REQUESTS SO I'M PROBABLY NOT THAT GOOD YET (also I forgot to read through it properly and kinda went offscript with some of it sorryy) 😭😭

Summary: Lottie tries her best to comfort you in a stressful situation

Warnings: not proofread, kinda short, modern au, tooth rotting fluff

"Fuck" you mutter as you sit up, rubbing your eyes as you look down at the cluttered desk where you accidentally fell asleep for a few minutes, once again.

You look down at your stuff and sigh, tired of all the studying you have been doing for the last few weeks to make sure you'll ace your upcoming exam.

As you sort through the multiple stacks of paper and pencils your phone suddenly vibrates in your pocket, effectively breaking you out of your trance.

'Hey can I come over? Soccer practice just finished 😎⚽' - lottie the loser🤓💕

The notification lights up, making you giggle tiredly as you see the message from your girlfriend. You hadn't really spent too much time together lately, usually clinging onto each other 24/7, but ever since your exams had started you had been locked up in your room revising everything you had learned for much more time than needed.

You quickly go to answer, your happiness sucked out of you as you look down at your work again and remember you still have stuff you haven't gone through as throughly as you would have wanted.

'I'm sorry Lottie but I don't think I have time for that rn, too busy studying ☹️💔' - you

You respond before putting your phone down, focusing once again on your work.

After about an hour you decide it's time for a well deserved break and stand up from your desk, swaying slightly from the exhaustion weighing down your body before collapsing right into bed thinking a thirty minute nap wouldn't hurt.

DING

You shoot up from bed, wondering who could have just rang the doorbell as your parents weren't expected home from their date until late that evening and the only other person who you had talked to was Lottie, who you specifically told not to come.

DING DING DING

Comes from down stairs once again and you throw your blanket off of you, a tiny bit pissed off that somebody decided to disturb the little time of rest you had set off for yourself.

A few long seconds go by before your hand wraps around the handle to your front door, opening up to whoever interrupted you.

"Hi baby!!" Your girlfriend excitedly says as you open the door for her, stepping into your house before you can even utter a word.

"Now I know you said not to come over, but we haven't hung out in so long and I miss youu" Lottie pouts, shrugging off her backpack before wrapping her long arms around you.

"I miss you too Lot, it's just that I have to nail this exam to pass my final grade" you sigh again, feeling miserable about rejecting her as you pull away.

"Come on y/n, I haven't seen you looking up from your notes in WEEKS, you look exhausted and you need to rest. " Lottie responds with a mildly stern voice as she tries to hide her sadness.

"It's just a couple more weeks, I'll be fine! There's no need to worry about me" you try to reassure her.

"I have to get into this school Lot, It's where my parents always wanted me to go, and I don't want to disappoint them.." You continue, suddenly somber as you try to contain an overwhelming gush of emotions.

"You have nothing to worry about y/n, I know you, you're probably going to do better than anyone else ok? So let's take a little break together, it will probably be easier to study after you've slept a bit" Lottie says gently and lifts her hand up towards your face to brush over your cheek gently in an attempt to comfort you.

Quickly accepting defeat you lean into her, too exhausted to argue as you let yourself relax properly for the first time in a while. "Well I was planning to take a tiny break anyways, but no longer than an hour, ok?" you muster a small smile and playfully poke Lottie.

"Ok then, go lay down in your bed, I'll be right there" Your wonderful girlfriend gushes and hurries to her backpack as you start walking towards your room.

10 minutes go by with no sign of Lottie before you start to get to get suspicious. You're about to get up to check if she left when she walks through the doorframe with a tray in her hands, balancing two steaming cups of tea, two blueberry muffins (from your favorite cafe) and a bowl of fresh fruit while looking extremely proud of herself.

"Oh gosh, you didn't have to do all of this Lot" you let out a surprised laugh making the girl opposite of you grin even wider, her tiny fangs showing.

"Of course I did, I love you" She puts the tray down in your lap and snuggles up close to you. "And I'll always take care of you, okay? So if you ever feel this much pressure and stress again just come to me and I'll help you in any way possible" she peppers your cheek with kisses and wraps her arm around you affectionately, using the other hand to turn on the tv.

What feels like hours go by as you relax together, enjoying the peace as a movie plays.

You end up laying in Lotties lap as her hands soothingly brushes through your hair, her head coming down to kiss you once in a while as she explains that your lips are so addicting that she'll never get enough of them.

And then before you know it the tray is set aside and you lay down, your back pressed against Lotties front as she whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

"I love you Lot" you whisper tiredly, your slightly slurred words making her chuckle as she kisses you all over.

"I love you too baby, I'll wake you up in the morning, you need some proper sleep" she whispers back as all your thoughts drift away, the last thing you feel being Lottie shifting one last time to kiss your forehead before she slowly begins falling asleep too, her heart beating steadily as she listens to your calm breath with a small smile on her face, happy that she managed to make you feel better.

a/n: so sorry idk anything about how american high schools or college's work so Idrk how they do exams either 😍

PLEEEASE SEND REQUESTS I'M BEGGING YOU 🙏😩

#lottie matthews #lottie mathews x reader #lottie matthews smut #lottie matthews x reader #lottie yellowjackets #yj98 #yj #yellowjackets x reader #yellow jackets #yellowjackets #made by lllivia

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