#Testing React Hooks

[cool-chandnisoni-world]

Hooked on React: Mastering the Art of Hooks

Hey Guys, It's been a while since I posted, but here I am with my new blog on React hooks. Take a look at it and don't hesitate to share your thoughts!

Have you ever been asked by a client to change a functional component into a class component where all the UI and business logic are the same but the only difference is that you need to add some state?   If so, then most developers will sympathize. But now we don’t have to do that because, as of React 16.8, we can now manage states in functional components too!  Here we will learn about React…

[tojigasm]

Thinking very hard about Logan talking you through it

He knows you're close ultimately before you do. Seasoned by his many years of life, your tells are specific but not impossible to discern.

It's different each time he's come to realize. A different scent to you based on the mood you're in, how quickly he brings you there, your vulnerability, and how he speaks to you.

Logan's a greedy man. He knows that. And he knew as soon as the first time it'd happened that he shamelessly selfish in getting what he wanted.

You smell like cinnamon and vanilla and fuck if it wasn't better than all the drugs he'd ever tried combined.

A part of him still thinks he might be chasing your high.

He learned quickly how to manipulate you to get different responses. Testing out what you react to and which scent meant what.

When it's a euphoric intimacy, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla isn't so strong. It's diluted some, like a soft cloudy mist.

More emotionally frustrated intimacy smells far more tart, almost coppery. It often reminds him of blood in his mouth, soaking into his lungs and taste buds like tar.

When you're in a far more glum mood, you smell like rain on cement. He's starved for it.

You're so pretty beneath him. Eyes lidded and swollen lips parted loosely as he scissors his middle and forefinger against your velvet walls.

Logan bumps his palm against your clit and you let you a gasp – your hand jumping from the bedsheets to grip his forearm.

"Right there, huh?"

You can hear the smirk in his voice and you give him a nod at that, tucking your chin to your chest as he moves his other hand to press one of your thighs upwards to where your knee almost hits your breast.

He slips his hand from your cunt, moving to pull your other hand to hold your own thighs to your chest.

Wordlessly, he kneels and pulls you by your hips to the edge of the bed before hooking his arms around your waist.

Without warning, he runs the flat of his tongue up the length of your cunt to your clit with a deep hum.

You know he can feel you shiver beneath him by the way he smiles against the sopping folds of your cunt.

"Feel good?" He chuckles softly, looking up at you from between your thighs.

You're reduced to broken whines and choked gasps, but you manage a hum in response, readjusting your grip on the backs of your thighs as Logan slips his tongue past your folds.

You smell of faint cinnamon.

"Lo," you sigh, throwing your arm over your eyes with a chipped whine.

Logan hums into your cunt, the sharp of his nose rocking back and forth against your clit.

He unwraps his arm from around your waist, reaching upwards to weave your hands together with a soft squeeze.

"Haa... ahh." Your voice grows watery as Logan brings you closer to the edge.

"M'close, Lo," you breathe, readjusting your hand on your thigh to keep it close to your chest.

"I know, sweetie." He circles his tongue around your bundle of nerves before blowing a stream of air onto your clit, "m'gonna get you there."

When he sucks on your clit again, you're cumming almost immediately with a shiver that simmers itself down your spine to your toes.

"There we go. It's a big one, huh."

A wave of vanilla woven with cinnamon washes over him and he nearly cums in his jeans.

You hear Logan before you've noticed he's moved from between your legs to stand above you, thumb circling your clit softly.

Whining, you turn your head into his forearm beside you.

"Doin' so good, sweetie," He coos, stroking his hand, still held by your own, down the side of your face before placing a kiss on your temple.

Your smell is much more prominent there, as though it travels through the roots of your hair and tickles itself through your soft skin.

Another shiver runs down your spine, causing the air on your arms and the nape of your neck to stand.

"Need you." You sob, voice muffled by the skin of his arm.

He settles down beside you on the bed, chin propped up on the flat of his right palm, squeezing your hand with his.

"You're okay."

The vanilla sinners throughout the room, and he swears he can see it in the dust that floats past the Amber hues of his room.

[jiarkives]

can you babysit our child?

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ summary — you ask nanami if he can babysit your child while you go out.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ character — nanami kento (jujutsu kaisen)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ content — fluff, ooc nanami (?), no pronouns used but kinda leaning towards fem

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ notes — i just had an idea and wrote it,,, no edit whatsoever 😶‍🌫️

~

Recently, Nanami’s students showed you an application called TikTok and you had been hooked to it, to say the least. Whenever you had free time, you would scroll on the app for hours on end.

And while scrolling one time, you came across a certain video of a couple and decided to test it out on Nanami to see how he would react.

“Hey, Ken?” You called out to your husband from the living room as you played with your toddler in her playpen. “Can you come here for a sec?”

“Yes, hon?” Nanami stepped into the living room from the kitchen where he had been cooking your lunch for the past hour or so, his apron still tied around his waist and the sleeves of his sweatshirt folded haphazardly up to his forearms.

“So I have an appointment with my nail tech tomorrow, right?” You reminded. “And Shoko and I decided to go out for a girl’s day.”

“The one you told me about over dinner three nights ago?” God help you, he even remembered when you told him. “Do you need something, hon? You know you can just take my card, right? You know where my wallet is.”

“No, no, but that is a tempting offer, admittedly, but no.” You grinned. “But I was just wondering, since I’d be gone the whole day tomorrow, maybe you can babysit our child?”

His eyebrows were immediately drawn together at your words and admittedly, a part of you thought he would turn you down and so you spoke quickly, “It’s alright if you can’t though. I can just reschedule my nail appointment and with Shoko.”

“No, it’s not that. You should go, hon, you deserve a break,” he told you in assurance, but his brows are still furrowed. “But why are you saying it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Babysitting,” he said. “You asked me to babysit our child.”

“Well, yeah, because I’d be out tomorrow and someone needs to take care of our child, you know?” You said, feigning nonchalance.

“Honey, I want you to be honest with me. Have I been making you feel neglected lately?” He asked worriedly, stepping closer to you and even going as far as sitting beside you on the floor. “I know I’ve been working overtime the past few days. Have you been feeling lonely because of that?”

Now, it was your turn to be confused.

“No, why’d you ask?”

“You asked me to babysit our child,” he reiterated. “Hon, I am the father of our child. I will take care of them the way a father should, and not just babysit them like I’mm being paid to do so.”

You were about to speak, but he cut you off, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately, but I’ll make it up to you two, alright? I promise.”

“Ken.” You giggled, throwing your arms around him. “It was a prank. I saw it on TikTok the other day.”

“Honey.” He sighed.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You jutted your bottom lip out as you pulled away. “But I love you so much, oh my god.”

“I love you too.” A small smile grew on his face. “But don’t ever do that again.”

He stood and moved to go back to the kitchen, but paused to turn to you, “And you’re definitely taking my card now.”

Well, your child is definitely going to have a new sibling soon.

[delusional-day-dreamer]

New Year's Kiss - p.b

‣ paige bueckers x reader

‣ wc: 3567

‣‣ synopsis: you were known as one of the calmest, most well-tempered players on the ucon wbb roster. so what happens if you lose your cool for the first time in a game? takes place at the uconn vs notre dame game on dec 31, 2022: based off this post/req from my nonnie 🫶, and lowk inspired by paige's bloody nose at the uconn vs seton hall game!

‣‣‣ a/n: hey guys.... i'm so sorry for being so inactive but the writer's block hit me HARD. I have a few more drafts in progress I hope to release this week, thank y'all SO MUCH for the support and patience! Also, for the opponent in this game i refer to her solely as the, "marquette girl", as i don't know their players that well and don't want to use an irl girl!

Up until the second half of the game, everything had been going decent for you. Sure, this game was one of the most aggressive of the season, but you were right in the peak of your season, so it made sense that emotions were running high with the pressure to do well.

But that didn't excuse the fact that the Marquette girl that had been assigned to defend you had been playing dirty the entire night. After the fucking hellish week you had just gotten through, this girl was about to be the straw that broke the camel's. your, back.

After Paige's acl tear in August and the work and energy you had been endlessly pouring into your game from the past two and a half years till now, you had basically solidified your place as one of the main starters on the team, which meant you were receiving a lot more consistent playing time. The thought of being a more prominent player on the team didn't panic you the way it might others, as you you were known for always being a very level-headed, reliable player under pressure, as you had been dubbed by the media as the "Silent Assassin". But tonight was proving to test your limits to the max.

Any time you were on the court for the first two quarters, the Marquette girl had been glued to you, illegally all up in your space, pushing and shoving at you, taunting you over and over again, and even tripping you once when you lunged for the ball. All of which she had done without receiving a single foul, which not only pissed you off, but also your teammates on the court, the players on your bench, and your coach.

And of course, the one time you had defended yourself against her in the second quarter was the only time the ref called a foul on both of you. She had nearly pressed herself up against you the second your hands came in contact with the ball, leaving you with no choice but to pass to your teammate Aaliyah to sink a layup, when she hooked her arm through yours and pulled just as the ball left your hands.

Her unnecessary aggression caused something to snap inside of you, as the second you felt her yank on your arm, you turned around to push her off of you, hard. She stumbled backwards a little bit, not tripping or hitting the ground in any way, but the damage had been done in the, very biased, eyes of the refs.

The two of you rapidly reacted, approaching each other as you were yelling out meaningless threats and a long string of curses. Thankfully, your teammates holding the two of you back firmly, preventing any further physical altercations.

The two of you both received technical fouls for the unnecessary physical contact and unsportsmanlike behaviour. However, the foul you received only irked you more. Why were the only fouls called on her when it involved you pushing back? Could they not see the way she was treating you the entire game?

And of course, Geno wasn't thrilled about one of his starters getting a tech in the first half of the game. While benched, he had chewed you out for losing your temper at her, especially for cursing, which was something refs never let slide. But his reprimands didn't hold the usual level of anger or frustration, as he internally agreed that the Marquette girl had it coming for her, but, he had to remain professional.

Of course basketball was a physical sport, and with aggression came some conflicts with other players, but her behaviour tonight was unprovoked and incredibly aggravating to you. Which only worsened in the third quarter.

After your tech, you had been trying your best to ignore the incredibly annoying actions of the Marquette girl, but you simply couldn't anymore after she had purposely elbowed you in the nose to make her shot.

You immediately stumbled backwards, folding over at the waist as your hands came up in an attempt to alleviate the intense throbbing your nose felt. You could feel the blood begin to dribble down to your lip as you walked over to the bench with Lou escorting you, awaiting the ref's call.

The refs decided to not call a foul on the other girl, claiming that she hadn't reached backwards on purpose, it was simply the angle of her basket and granted UConn two free throws. The call enraged you, and something inside you snapped. You very quickly forgot about the tissue you were firmly holding at your nostrils as you approached him, insisting with him that the call was blind and blatantly biased.

You hadn't noticed the blood resumed to flow down your face while arguing until it hit your mouth, but you paid no mind to the taste of iron that filled your mouth as you persisted angrily speaking to the ref.

"Paige, go get her before she gets another tech," Geno whispered into Paige's ears over by the bench.

She nodded at him, making her way over to you to pull you away from the ref who was now threatening to eject you from the game.

"Okay enough, you need to get checked out by the team medic," Paige wrapped her arm around your waist to pull you away from your heated conversation, despite your struggle against her. She wasn't that much taller than you, but the extra two ish inches she had on you were proving useful right now.

She dragged you over to the bench, ignoring your many protests. She pried the used, bloody tissue out of your fingers to toss to the medic waste bag, grabbing new ones from her hand to help your bloody nose. It was apparent to everyone on your team, even the fans watching, that your stubbornness wouldn't allow you to accept the call that easily and allow the medic to clean you up. So, Paige would just have to do it herself.

Since your first day on the Uconn campus, you and Paige had become extremely close. With the two of you being assigned roommates your freshman year, the COVID year, it would've been impossible to not become best friends, considering the fact that you spent all of your time together.

If not at practice or hanging out with the team, the two of you were trapped inside your dorm, forced to find company within each other for the entire year. And with Paige's injury her sophomore year, you were one of the only people she was able to open up to, other than Azzi, and you had become her comfort during her rehab time, both then and now. Despite no longer being roommates, you two still always hung out at each other's respective dorm, even having frequent sleepovers.

Your incredibly close relationship wasn't left unnoticed by the media either, especially social media platforms like tiktok. When Paige and Azzi denied the relationship allegations at the same time you made it clear that you liked girls, the internet quickly refocused their attention onto you and Paige, and neither of you had the heart to deny any rumors circulating. Considering that after Azzi, you were the least active on your social media when it came to anything other than basketball, it wasn't too hard to ignore the internet's speculation.

All of which to say, Paige had made it incredibly easy for you to catch feelings for her. Until her, you had never known what it was like to be completely head over heels for someone. The way your heart skipped any time the two of you made eye contact, the way your cheeks flushed when she brushed against you, and the chemistry the two of you shared on and off the court was undeniable.

Unbeknownst to you, she felt the exact same way, and for the last two years, everyone but you two could see the feelings you harbored for each other.

If only you could feel the way her heart was beating as she held your face in one hand, using the other to apply pressure to your nose and wipe away at the blood on your face, neck, and jersey as she listened to you rant about the refs and how they were cheating you guys out of fouls the entire game. Although, she wasn't able to focus on the words coming out of your mouth, only the plumpness of your lips as they moved, something you noticed as your verbal attack slowed down so you could take a breath in between your sentences.

"She's literally fucking stuck up my ass and the refs ignore her which is actual bullshit, the amount of times this girl has literally made unnecessary contact or-, Paige are you even listening to me?"

Her lingering gaze on your mouth quickly snapped up to your eyes, a sheepish smile settling onto her now flushed cheeks.

"Yeah, yeah sorry."

She wiped the remaining blood from around your nose before calling over the medic to check your nose. A small bruise had formed near the bridge, but thankfully it wasn't broken. While she was checking your nose, Paige did her best to avoid meeting your curious stares.

Of course the two of you had small moments where you could envision that Paige felt the same for you. But never one that was so blatantly obvious as her staring at your lips, especially so publicly.

Nonetheless, you barely had time to analyze the interaction before the medic was clearing you to return to the game, Paige patting your butt (this) as you jogged by her to sub back into the game, which, until the handshake line, went without any further incidents, despite your team beating them by 13 points (HVL VS TEXAS Y'ALL).

When passing by you, you heard her mutter under her breath, "fucking bitch," in response to your half-hearted, "good game". It was safe to say you didn't take that well, responding to her with, "you wanna come say that to my fucking face? Pussy ass bitch." For both of your sakes, Dorka and one of her teammates were able to keep pushing the two of you down the line and out to the lockers before the post-game conference with Lou, Nika, and Dorka, which Geno insisted you attend to apologize for your behaviour.

***Small Time Skip***

"So Y/N, the multiple incidents that occured tonight with you and (BLANK) from Georgetown, do you have anything to say about them? I mean, you're known for being a very calm and collected player, but tonight we saw a very different side of you," a reporter questioned you. The questions for you from tonight's post-game conference mostly avoided the fight, treading the waters carefully as it was unlike anything you had ever been involved in.

"I'm not gonna try and cover for myself or anything, it was unprofessional and unacceptable for me to lose my temper on the court like that. Like you said, I've always tried to place an emphasis on just basketball when playing and avoid any other personal feelings or problems, but I guess tonight I didn't do as good of a job on that as I could of. This is something that I will keep in mind for all of our upcoming games as that's not the kind of image or reputation I want to set for myself or the team I represent. I would never want this kind of behaviour to be defining moments from our games because my teammates really put their all into every single one of their games, especially tonight's, and I don't want to create any personal animosity with the girls on the Marquette team, as I have a lot of respect for them."

Your diplomatic and cordial answer had appeased majority of the reporters, along with Geno and the team publicist in the back corner of the room. Except for one nosy reporter who seemed unhappy with your tactful response and was practically feining for drama.

“This one is for y/n, but with the events of today, you mentioned that you try to keep all personal feelings off the court. Is that an implication of some external underlying tension or problems between you and number (BLANK), as the two of you got quite physical today?”

What the fuck? Now they really were trying to start something between the two of you that never existed in the first place.

“No not at all. I have no connection with number (BLANK) off the court and don’t even personally know her. As I mentioned before, I have nothing but respect for the girls at Marquette and there are no hard feelings on my end. You know, basketball is a physical contact game and that just means that there a few rough moments here and there, it’s just part of the game.”

If they ask any more stupid questions about you and the Marquette girl you were actually gonna lose your mind. Especially if they somehow tie in the fact that you like girls with the fight.

Which, thankfully, they ended up dropping the fight for the rest of the interview, and you and the others were finally allowed to go out and celebrate New Year's Eve the way they had originally planned to.

The whole team, and Kayla of course, was prepared to celebrate at your favorite local bar, Ted's. All of the girls who were taken were bringing their partners along and those of you who were single were all ready to hunt someone down for a drunken kiss at midnight. Except you.

You were far too down bad for Paige to even fathom kissing someone else at the moment, especially not while going out with her and the rest of the team, who all knew about your ginormous crush on Paige.

Nonetheless, you still did your best to get ready quickly, wearing your baggiest pair of low-rise cargo pants and a very cropped white halter tank top in an attempt to cheer yourself up from the fact you wouldn't have a New Year's kiss this year, again.

But by the time you were throwing back shots at the bar like they were water, you couldn't find it in you to care about how single you were. It was common knowledge that you weren't the best at holding your liquor, as the team often made fun of your ability to get drunk off of two to three shots, which is exactly the position you found yourself in.

Until, of course, "guardian angel Paige" decided she needed to intervene in your drinkfest, walking up to your barstool and effectively cutting you off by having the bartender replace your drink with a regular shirley temple just before midnight so that she, or any of your other friends, wouldn't have to deal with you throwing up at four in the morning.

"You gotta go easy on the shots y/n/n, you're gonna hate yourself in the morning if you keep drowning your liver in alcohol."

"Funny, coming from Storrs's resident party girl, Miss Madison," you teased. There were only about twenty minutes left until bar's tv would depict the ball dropping in New York, and the disparity of your situation had begun to sink in.

Not only would you be suffering through another New Year's with no midnight kiss, but you had no relationships since last year or even a single talking stage, no potential relationship prospects for the future, and worst of all, no Paige.

"Yeah well, at least I can hold my drinks. You, on the other hand, are the most lightweight out of all of us. Besides, what happened to your little New Years tradition, the whole eating the grapes thing to find the love of your life or whatever?"

You went off on a little drunken tangent at this, complaining that it was completely ineffective, but also, the fact that it made you look stupid in front of the entire team when absolutely nothing came out of it.

"I mean it's so dumb. I don't get why my love life is so barren, like actually non-existent, it's not like I'm super unattractive or anything like that. Right? But like, I don't even have a midnight kiss this year, again," you grumbled to Paige, unaware of the way she was staring at your lips for the second time today, mesmerized by their movements.

"You are most definitely not unattractive. You're like one of the most attractive people I know. Besides, it's not like I'm kissing anyone this year," Paige reassured you, and somehow, your drunk brain simply did not process the way she had flusteredly complimented you.

"Yeah but you're Paige Bueckers," you emphasized, "you could kiss anyone in this bar if you wanted. Men and women, single and taken, would literally form a line two blocks down if you even mentioned wanting to kiss someone," you gazed up at Paige from your leaned position against the bartop, watching as the gears turned behind her eyes.

"Anyone in the bar? Like, anyone at all?" She asked you curiously, a small smirk graced her features as she peered down at you.

"Yeah probably, but there's only like two minutes left or something, so you should pick someone soon."

"Oh I already have someone picked out, I just don't know if they would kiss me back."

"Oh?" You felt your stomach drop at her statement, and you couldn't stop the jealousy from coursing through your veins if your life had depended on it. But Paige's unwavering gaze never left your face, and you could feel your cheeks flush at the way she was intently looking at you.

"Quite the staring problem tonight P?"

"Well it's pretty hard to not stare at the prettiest girl in the room," she flirted, scooting closer to you, effectively closing some of the distance between you two.

"I-, what?" You stuttered, taken back by Paige's actions.

"How many hints does I have to drop before you finally start picking up on them? I want to kiss you y/n, I want you."

The ten-second countdown had begun as Paige confessed to you, and you were left gawking at Paige's face, your heart threatening to give out from how fast it was beating.

"FIVE, FOUR,"

You yanked on Paige's belt loop, pulling her flush against your body as your eyes focused in on her lips.

"THREE, TWO, ONE, HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!""

Your right hand reached up to grab Paige's jaw at the end of the countdown, pulling her lips firmly down onto yours. The bar's loud chants barely registered to you as you lost yourself in the intoxication of Paige's lips. Your tongue glided across her lip as your mouths moved in unison, causing her to groan into you. You took it as an invitation to slip your tongue into her mouth, the kiss deepening with unrestrained passion.

Your built-up need for each other was apparent as you made out, sending shivers down your spine at the pressure of her mouth against yours. It felt as if she was the oxygen you needed to breathe, and now that you had her, there was no way you could let her go now.

***The next morning: New Year's Day***

Your eyes fluttered open with a pounding headache, yet, the utterly familiar weight of a certain pairs of hands around your waist provided a sense of comfort you knew only she could provide.

Paige's soft snores rung out throughout the room, and as you gently reached forward to her nightstand to grab your phone off charging, you realize it was still extremely early in the morning, not even eight a.m.

And yet, your phone was blowing up with notifications from all social media platforms, even your text messages had over a hundred notifications.

Confused, you click on the apps to check what all the fuss was about, quickly realizing what had happened.

The entire interaction between you and Paige at the game was recorded by the cameramen and had instantaneously made it's way all over the internet, only fueling the dating rumors about the two of you.

The comments and posts were going feral at the way Paige was the only one who could calm you down, the way she wrapped her arms around your waist to pull you back, her holding your face ever so delicately, her smacking your butt as you ran back onto the court, and of course, her transparent staring at your lips the entire time you were an inch apart from her.

"What are you looking at baby," Paige sleepily mumbled into your neck, tightening her grip around your waist to pull you further into her, slinging her right leg over your waist.

You put your phone down and turned in her hold, wrapping your arms around her body as you peered down at Paige's sleepy face, admiring how beautiful she always looked.

"Your fans are going crazy about how obviously down bad you are for me P," you teased, running your foot up and down her calf as Paige pressed her face into your chest to absorb your body heat.

"Let them, just go back to sleep with me for a little bit longer."

And of course, how could you ever say no when your girlfriend was asking you so sweetly?

a/n: thank you for reading all the way through, and i'm so sorry if the ending is kinda rushed, i just wanted to finally get another fic out 🤗

[dropoutdeveloper]

Top 10 React Interview Questions and How to Answer Them

React Interview Questions: React has become one of the most popular JavaScript libraries for building dynamic user interfaces. With more and more companies adopting React, the demand for skilled React developers is on the rise. If you’re looking to land your dream job as a React developer, you’ll likely have to go through a rigorous interview process. In this blog, we’ll cover the top 10 React…

[rinneroraito]

L x Reader: Reader is wearing a shirt with a boob window, suggestive, he's touchy, 600+ words

-------

Ever since you came in the headquarters L couldn't take his eyes off of you. Not when you're wearing that shirt with a boob window, the clear line of your cleavage completely visible. And as if that wasn't enough, he could also see that you weren't wearing a bra underneath that shirt.

You went about your duties, L mentally sighing in relief that no one else had come into the office that night to ogle at you. He's delighted, though. It's indulgent, the way your breasts bounced when you walked, how the material of your clothing hugged your curves. He was more motivated to finish his work just so he could call you over to him. But you beat him to it, and you sit beside him on the couch (he sits there most of the time now because he likes it when you sit next to him). He momentarily stops typing on his laptop, bringing his wide and curious eyes up to your direction.

"Everything alright on your end, L?"

You lean towards his direction and his gaze immediately travels down to that oh, so enticing cat-head shaped window.

"Mostly done. Y/N, is the wardrobe idea a deliberate choice to distract me?"

A devious smile creeps up your face and you straighten yourself up, heaving your chest out towards him. L's eyes are glued to them, to you, and it's palpable how much he just wants to reach out and touch.

"Nothing escapes you, does it?" You let out a chuckle as you scoot yourself closer to him. "Yea, I wanted to see how you'd react. And I like it when you make eyes at me."

L closes the laptop and brings a thumb up to his teeth, chewing thoughtfully at his nail as he stares.

"You've accomplished that, well done. May I?" He finally asks.

"Yeah, go ahead."

He reaches out, long slender fingers extending towards you until they meet your skin. Your breath hitches a little when he starts to trace the outline of the opening. His touch was featherlike, barely there, teasing.

"It's nice," L muses, adjusting his position on the couch so he's now facing you. He hooks a finger down the end of the window on your shirt, testing the material before pulling it down.

"It's stretchy but not to the point where it would reveal more when yanked on."

"Good observation," you reply, delighted by his interest in such a simple thing as an opening on your shirt.

"But, it's enough for easy access," he shoves his hand inside the window, cupping your breast in his hand. "So soft..."

"You like that?"

"I like you," he replies, looking up at you with those big eyes that seemed to know everything yet still had so much to discover. The words bring heat up to your cheeks, a reaction he's always pleased to see.

"Do you want to do it here..?" You ask, wondering if he could feel your heart race through your chest that he had started to squeeze gently.

"That's a very enticing idea," L says as he flicks his thumb over your hardened nipple, eliciting a gasp from you. There's a cocky quality to the way he hummed at your reaction, and he continues his thought.

"Maybe a quick one, I still have some data to sort."

With his free hand, he pulls you closer, diving into the window on your shirt where he still had his hand. He presses his lips over your exposed skin, and you swear you heard him chuckle when you exhale raggedly.

"And then we can do more after I'm done."

[lumiambrose]

✰ house rules

kinktober 24 - day five

featuring: dr ratio x f!reader

summary: veritas ratio, your university professor, is renowned for being the greatest lecturer at your university but also the cruellest, willing to fail any student who doesn't meet his high standard. so you can't help but try your luck for some "extra credit" when you run with said professor on a night out with your girlfriends.

tags: smut, professor x student dynamic, public/semi-public, fingering, oral (fem receiving) petnames (dear)

wc: 1k

the poker table hums with quiet tension, chips clinking and cards sliding across the velvet surface. you’re currently sitting next to dr. veritas ratio, out of all people. as for how you landed a seat next to your professor—the same professor that sneers at mediocre efforts and fails half his students—will forever be a mystery. tonight was supposed to be girls night, where you can relax and party your academic deadlines away. yet instead, you find your heart racing as you watch your professor calculate his odds and size up his opponents like it’s nothing.

albeit terrified, you attempt to catch his attention. “didn’t expect to see you here,” you say, leaning in ever so slightly towards him. the words hang between you, but your pulse is racing. “you don’t strike me as the casino type, professor.”

he doesn’t spare you a glance yet. instead, he places a bet, his fingers tapping the chips. “i could say the same,” he replies, finally turning his gaze on you. his eyes have that familiar coolness in them, but this time, there’s something else—amusement maybe? “though, considering your recent performance, you might need to rely on luck more than most.”

embarrassed, you let out a weak laugh, more to relieve your nerves than anything else. “maybe i’ve just been waiting for a proper chance to test my skills.”

he cocks a brow. “how bold. though i expect your aiming for more than a simple game.”

your heart skips a beat at how easily he sees through you. “maybe,” you start, “depends on how much you're willing to offer.”

before you can react to his words, you feel veritas' hand on your thigh. his grip firm, making your breath hitch. you bite your lip, doing your utmost best to concentrate on the game in play. your professor, unbothered by your reaction, continues to play his hand as his eyes never leave the table in front of him.

“something tells me you’re more interested in winning than you let on,” he whispers, voice laced with velvet, loud enough for your ears only to hear. each word stirring goosebumps on your fragile skin. his fingers dance their way up your inner thigh, caressing your soft skin. touch featherlight as you do your best to stifle a moan.

“now why would i ever back down from a challenge?” you retort, your voice shamelessly laced with need and desire. as the words left your mouth, you feel his thumb hook the edge of your lace panties, cutting you off abruptly and sending your mind into a whirlwind of thoughts. the game in front of you now hidden in the back of your mind.

the game continues with the sound of chips clinking, card shuffling and rare exclamations from other players, but they all went in one ear and out the other. your professor now completely overtaking your thoughts. shrinking your world down to the little space surrounding you and veritas. your only reality being the tantalising touch of his fingers against your clothed core.

“eyes on the game, dear. you’re so far in it would be a pity to lose your cool now,” he says as though it’s nothing. as though his actions aren’t getting bolder by the minute.

his hand, now tucked away beneath your skirt, teases your wet folds through the thin fabric of your panties. focusing on the cards in front of you now seemed impossible as your mind hazed with lust. the heat between your legs is now becoming unbearable. your hips now subtly grinding against his fingers.

a loud clang pierces the air, pulling you back to reality. your heart skips a beat as you feel a cold presence on your lap. you look down to the sight of veritas' drink spilt over the edge of the table, soaking your clothes.

you gasp at the shock of icy liquid against you, seeping through your skirt and leaving a sticky mess on your thighs. veritas immediately stood up, abandoning the game in front of him, offering his hand out to you. “let’s clean you up. it’s a small spill, but we don’t want it to stain,” he says, and you swear you can see a small smirk play on his lips.

initially embarrassed, you nod and take his hand as he guides you through the casino floor. excitement slowly proceeds to replace your initial embarrassment as you draw closer to the bathrooms. all the background noise slowly fading away as the both of you enter the quiet bathroom, veritas locking the door behind you.

without warning, he pushes you against the wall and unzips your skirt, letting the fabric slide down your legs. your panties are coated with arousal, betraying the facade you did your best to keep up. veritas locks eyes with you, his eyes fueled with hunger as he kneels down in front of you.

“keep it quiet. you don’t want to get caught now, do you?” he warns before leaning in to devour you. his skilled tongue quickly finds its way to your clit, sucking and abusing it teasingly while his fingers work wonders inside of you. you arch your back, throwing your head back as the pleasure courses through you, your body begging for release.

with one hand tugging on veritas’ hair, aching for more, the other found its way to your mouth. attempting to cover up the sweet moans getting drawn out of you. although veritas doesn’t seem to take your moans seriously. he carries on teasing you, his tongue flicking your clit and his fingers pushing deeper inside you. your breathing grows ragged, and you know that you couldn't hold back the wave of ecstasy much longer.

but veritas, ever the harsh professor, pulled away, just when you were on the brink. leaving your bare pussy wet and needy, he stands up and wipes your remaining slick off his face. looking down on you, he commands, “stay behind after my lecture tomorrow.” his voice firm and unwavering before exiting the bathroom.

leaving you in the bathroom all alone, you contemplated the situation that just played out. your heart racing and your body still humming with desire. although, as you cleaned yourself up in the bathroom, you’re already contemplating your outfit for tomorrow and a cute matching set to wear underneath for your favourite professor.

taglist: @ryescapades @iamjellyfish @143-ilyuu @maruflix @pixelcafe-network

©lumis kinktober 24' ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[creamflix]

veritas ratio x female reader; 18+ content (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS do not interact, you'll be blocked), established relationship, oral (f. receiving), slightly pussy drunk ratio, messy pussy eating, implied overstimulation at the end, #needthat – masterlist here ☆～（ゝ。∂）

veritas ratio never really understood the appeal of going down on someone.

it wasn’t that he was against it — it was just something that never really crossed his mind. humans had needs, sure, and you were no exception; with you as his girlfriend, he became more aware of that fact. he’d use toys on you, his fingers even, pressing and curling them inside you in calculated ways that had you panting and trembling.

but his mouth? now that was something he hadn’t considered.

not until tonight.

"what do you need?" he whispers into your ear, his voice calm and collected, like he’s conducting one of his usual experiments. "tell me exactly what you need from me."

you're already burning up from the way he’s been teasing you all night, his fingers brushing against your soaked folds but never fully giving you what you crave. and then you say it, breathy and desperate, "i need your mouth… on me."

he stops.

completely still, like you’ve just hit him with something he’s never computed before. his eyes flicker over you, scanning your expression, the flushed look on your face, the way your chest rises and falls with each shaky breath.

"my mouth?" he repeats, his voice carrying a faint hint of confusion as if he’s trying to understand a new formula. he’s tasted you before — off his fingers, in small, fleeting moments — but this? fully indulging? he tilts his head slightly, brows furrowing like he’s examining an unfamiliar hypothesis.

"yes," you practically whimper, need pulsing through your core. "please… i need you there."

he takes a long pause, processing. logically, it makes sense. there must be some valid reason so many people seem to enjoy it, why so many swear by it. it’s another mechanism, another tool to explore, to utilize. why not? he’ll never know the depths of it until he experiences it firsthand.

so he moves down, slow, deliberate, like he's approaching an experiment he’s not entirely sure about but willing to engage in. his fingers part your folds, exposing you to him, and his gaze sharpens, analyzing every detail of how your body reacts, how wet and needy you are. you feel him breathe against you, warm and soft, before his lips finally meet your core.

the first touch of his mouth is tentative, experimental, like he’s testing the waters, and the moment your hips jerk toward him, he knows he’s onto something. he licks a slow, measured stripe up your slit, tasting you fully for the first time in this way. the sound that leaves your lips — broken, needy — has him hooked.

"fascinating," he murmurs against you, his voice sending vibrations straight through your core. and then, as if the data clicks in his mind, he dives in.

his mouth is everywhere — lips sucking, tongue swirling, fingers gripping your thighs to keep you spread wide for him. the more he tastes you, the sloppier he gets, abandoning the calm, calculated movements. he's messier now, groaning into your pussy like he can’t get enough of your taste, his tongue flicking over your clit again and again.

"fuck —" you gasp, your hands tangling into his hair as your back arches off the bed.

he pulls back for a second, his lips slick and shiny, looking up at you with that same analytical gaze. "you taste… better than i expected," he says, as if he’s stating a simple fact. then, without another word, he’s back between your thighs, lapping at you greedily, like he’s trying to understand every little reaction your body gives him.

he’s addicted now, completely immersed in the act, the taste of you. he wonders, as he sucks your clit into his mouth, why didn’t he do this sooner? why hadn’t he explored this with you before? it’s unlike anything he’s experienced — the way you buck and writhe under him, the sweet, wet sounds of his tongue and lips against your pussy. it’s intoxicating.

"ratio — i’m close, please," you whine, your thighs trembling as he flicks his tongue over your swollen clit, sucking and licking in a rhythm that has you spiraling.

he hums in acknowledgment, but doesn’t let up, his fingers digging into your skin as he holds you in place, his tongue working faster, sloppier, his mouth drenched in you. he’s so focused, so consumed by your taste, that when you finally break, crying out his name, shaking under his mouth, he groans, grinding his hips into the mattress, desperate for his own relief.

"good girl," he murmurs against your pussy, not stopping even after you’ve come, licking and sucking like he’s starved, addicted, wanting more of you, as if he's only just begun to unravel what makes you tick.

#needthat

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[smileysuh]

aphrodisiac

🌙 starring. Mark Lee x afab!Reader I ft. Lee Donghyuck

🔮 preview. You kiss him softly at first, waiting to see how he reacts. Mark is frozen, but after a second, his hands pull you closer, his lips moving more urgently against your own. His tongue licks at you, and you open your mouth for him, accepting everything Mark is giving you on the dance floor. You hook your fingers in Mark’s belt, pulling his body flush to your own. He groans against your lips, deepening the kiss. It’s a struggle to breathe, a struggle to do anything but get lost in the demon hunter as he kisses you in a way you’ve never been kissed before. He tastes like rum, coke, and a deep longing that’s been brewing for much more than a week. His hands cradle you close, as if he never wants to let go, and you wonder for a moment if he’s wanted this for as many years as you have.

tw/cw. slight cnc (demon!Hyuck uses an aphrodisiac power to make reader and Mark fuck, but they've been into each other for years), weird voyeurism, weird demonic shows of dominance through dirty talk, dirty talk, breast worship, pussy worship, oral (f receiving), exhibitionism (fucking in a deserted alleyway), Mark has big dick energy in this, roughness, unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, face riding, aphrodisiac assisted powerful orgasms, multiple reader orgasms, death, etc…

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5.5k

🍭 aus. demon au, demon!Hyuck, demon hunter reader/Mark, childhood friends to semi-forced lovers, fake dating, hotel only has one bed, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. this is hella on the tame side of cnc since that's not generally something I've ever written, but I still wanted to include the warning since Hyuck uses his demonic powers to utilize the attraction Mark and reader have to each other to get them to fuck.

Prologue

Huddled with the two other girls enduring demon hunter training, your eyes are all fixed to the newest recruit. He’s small for a boy of his age, but it’s clear from the way he’s battering the test dummy that he has the physical endurance to excel. 

You’ve never seen a male train before, as generally the seasoned demon hunters take to training people of their own gender in their older age. Your current mentor, an older woman named Suki, has only ever taken on female pupils, until now.

“I know it’s not a regular occurrence,” she’d told you last week, “but my grandson needs to be trained, and I’m not sure I trust anyone else to do the job.”

While your study focuses primarily on speed, stamina, and quick sneak attacks, Mark Lee has done nothing but strength based work since he’s arrived. You’ve watched him hike up the mountain every day carrying heavier and heavier bags of sand. 

If there’s one thing you can say for your mentor’s grandson, it’s that he’s got determination.

Mark pauses for a moment, adjusting his glasses and wiping sweat from his brow. Your friend next to you lets out a little gasp at the view, and the new demon hunter turns, his eyes locking with your own while the girls next to you dart to their hiding places.

He flashes you a tight lipped, polite smile, and then he gets back to his work, attacking the practice dummy with haphazard motions that you know he’ll hone over the next year or so he trains here. 

Despite his cute, boyish charm, you can’t allow Mark Lee to shift your focus from what’s important. He’s on his path to becoming a demon hunter, and you’re on your own.

You can’t let a boy distract you from your calling.

One

Mark has grown up a lot in the years since you’ve last seen him. He’s much taller now, and broader, however his angular face and signature glasses remain the same as ever. You stand on the train platform, simply watching him for a moment, the way his eyes shift, the hand in his pocket where he likely has a demon blade.

Finally, after you’re done getting control of yourself, you call out his name, and his gaze immediately turns to you.

The polite, tight lipped smile he flashes brings you back to the first week you met him, and a moment later he’s approaching you to pull you in for a hug.

You can feel his body on yours now, and there’s muscle under the loose fabric of his hoodie, muscle that hadn’t been there before.

“Y/N,” he breathes, and you take in his own woodsy scent with a sigh of relief.

You can bring a mountain boy to the city, but you can never bring the mountain out of the boy.

“It’s good to see you,” you admit, pulling away from Mark, “even under the circumstances.”

He nods solemnly.

While neither of you are city hunters, you’ve been called to do your duty together based on your shared past. Couples have been going missing, and after two months and numerous disappearances, Suki had suggested you and Mark could work on the case together. She’d taken into consideration the fact that you’d trained as a team before, a mixed gendered pairing that’s rare in the demon hunting world. 

Despite the ways in which you work well together, it’s not lost on either of you that this is going to be a job unlike any you’ve ever experienced before. You’re small town hunters, and this is a big city demon. Its class and abilities are unknown, but the one thing you’re certain of, is that it will be a hell of a lot more powerful than you’re used to.

It’s comforting to have Mark with you as the two of you leave the train station and grab a cab to go to the hotel you’ll be staying at, although, everywhere you look, the scent of lust and sin perfumes the city air. 

Two 

You let out a deep breath as you and Mark enter your shared hotel room. Without the exact details of how the demon is choosing its coupled prey, it had been decided that in order to evade any detection, the two of you would get a one bed suite. 

With couples being the primary target for the demon you’re hunting, you and Mark will have to play the part of lovebirds to the best of your abilities.

“I’ll grab the couch,” Mark says, already heading over to the uncomfortable sofa with his duffle in hand. “We should get some dinner and then go to some of the clubs in the west side district where people have been going missing.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree, placing your small, travel sized suitcase on the bed. While the decoration of your bag is pink and girlie, the inside of it betrays your dark calling. You’ve brought multiple knives, holy water, and various cursed objects that have been designed to harm demons.

Under your array of weapons are a few evening dresses, and a makeup purse that Suki had given you. 

“I’m going to shower and get ready,” you announce, already dreading the act of putting on lipstick and blush. You’re not used to dressing up for hunts, but this is a unique situation. You have to blend in with the pampered city folk, and you’ll be damned if you look anything less than authentic.

“I’ll catch a nap while you do that,” Mark sighs, already getting comfortable on the couch.

“Sleep in the bed, this will take an hour or so,” you instruct.

“Are you sure?” He blinks at you, removing his glasses and rubbing at his eyes.

“You need the rest, we both need to be in top shape if we’re going to do this right.”

Mark nods, moving to the bed. “We can do this.”

You’re not sure if he’s trying to convince you, or himself. 

Three

Mark has always been awkward, and that trait has increased tenfold now that you’re in the city. His motions in the club are very robotic, and at times, he looks like an anxious kitten, his eyes shifting this way and that.

He’d refused your idea that you should have at least one drink to relax a little, and Mark sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the inebriated couples circulating the dance floor.

“This isn’t working,” you sigh, standing close to his side as you look out at the many people who would be better targets than you. “We have to appear sloppy and in love if we’re going to attract this demon’s attention.”

“I’m not good at being either of those things,” Mark sighs, shifting an inch away from you.

“Clearly.” You release a deep breath. “Mark, we don’t look like a couple. You hardly touch me, you move away from me when I get too close- we can’t do our job if things continue like this.”

Mark’s eyes meet your own, and you can tell you’re both thinking about the same thing. Other than being frequent partiers in this westside dance district, the targeted couples had one thing in common in reports and missing persons files, they’d all been truly, deeply, madly in love. 

You’d scoured their social medias, gone through countless pictures of couples who couldn’t keep their hands off of one another- photos of lovebirds nestled together, the adoration practically oozing out of their eyes.

“Okay.” Mark nods to himself. “Okay, I can do this.”

His hand smoothly glides along the small of your back, and when he reaches your hip, he tugs you closer.

“That’s better,” you grin, leaning against his shoulder. “We’re more convincing already.”

“I’m just uh… not used to this.”

“Used to what?”

“Being close to uh…” He clears his throat. “Being close to cute girls.”

Demon hunting is a fairly solitary life, and you understand where Mark is coming from. When your life span is uncertain, it’s difficult to give your heart to someone else, especially when you’ve already given yourself to your cause. 

Mark’s own parents had been demon hunters, two wayward souls who’d somehow found each other in the midst of everything. They’d lost their lives just before his grandmother Suki had adopted him and trained him to continue their legacy. 

Relationships aren’t unheard of in the demon hunting world, but they often end in sadness, the kind of sadness that you’ve seen Mark carry around on his shoulders since you were both young.

“You can be as close to me as you want Mark,” you tell him, “we can do this, together.”

Four 

You’ve been in the city for a week, already another couple has gone missing. With each night, you can feel the tensions rising, Mark is getting more and more used to being close to you, and the close proximity to the cute demon hunter is helping your own lovebird charade.

He doesn’t hesitate at the club now, he simply grabs your hand and wordlessly pulls you onto the dance floor. It’s become clear with the recent missing persons case that while the demon is going after couples who frequent clubs, he doesn’t attack at the clubs. 

While you’re still on high alert, the club is a safe place- to a point. It’s obvious the demon is using clubs to find his next targets, but in the sanctity of a roaring crowd of dancing drunks, you can allow yourself to relax just a smidge. 

You and Mark have been touchy, and every graze of his fingers across your skin is lighting a fire deep in your belly. His eyes look into yours, and you’ve found yourself getting lost in the dark pools below his glasses.

He really is a handsome guy. 

You’d had a crush on him when you’d first met him, but all the girls you’d trained with felt that way about Mark Lee. He’d been bait lowered into a piranha’s nest, much like you both are now.

You can feel his breath on your face as you get close to him, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, hands skimming his strong back. His own fingers dance along your waist, keeping you close as people shuffle behind you.

It must be after one am, and you’ve been at this for hours. As time ticks by, you can feel the tensions rising. You’re both getting a little stir crazy, neither of you have fought a demon in a week, and living together has begun to feel almost too good.

At the same time, there’s the feeling of failure now that another couple has gone missing, and as small town demon hunters who always get their mark, failure is not something either of you are accustomed to.

Taking a deep breath, you lean forward, ghosting your lips past his ear. “Kiss me,” you tell him, pulling away to look into his eyes.

Mark gazes at you for a moment, you can see confusion written across his face. Then he looks down at your mouth. Your heart lurches into your throat from the motion, and you give him a small nod, a go ahead with your plan. 

You watch Mark’s adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you nuzzle against his warm palm, looking up at him with bated breath.

There’s a swarm of people dancing around you, but for a moment, it feels like it’s just you and Mark. You’re locked in on the look of him, the experience of being here with Mark Lee of all people.

He leans in slowly, pausing with just a hair’s breath between your lips. His eyes search yours, and you’re the one who finally closes the last of the distance.

You kiss him softly at first, waiting to see how he reacts. Mark is frozen, but after a second, his hands pull you closer, his lips moving more urgently against your own. His tongue licks at you, and you open your mouth for him, accepting everything Mark is giving you on the dance floor.

You hook your fingers in Mark’s belt, pulling his body flush to your own. He groans against your lips, deepening the kiss. It’s a struggle to breathe, a struggle to do anything but get lost in the demon hunter as he kisses you in a way you’ve never been kissed before. He tastes like rum, coke, and a deep longing that’s been brewing for much more than a week. His hands cradle you close, as if he never wants to let go, and you wonder for a moment if he’s wanted this for as many years as you have. 

Mark pulls away abruptly, pressing his forehead to your own. He’s panting, and you’ve found yourself at a loss for breath too. It’s a wordless connection, the two of you clutching each other while you get your bearings.

Finally, Mark swallows. “The club closes soon,” he mutters. “We should uh, we should get going.”

“Yeah.” You nod, stepping back slightly and running a hand through your hair to ground yourself. 

Mark grabs your hand, and he begins to pull you off the dance floor. If you haven’t looked like a couple in love for the past week, you’re sure you do now. Your skin feels hot where Mark’s touching you, and your heart is racing as fast as it had during training when you’d climbed the mountain every day. 

There’s a dull ache between your thighs, one you try to ignore as Mark takes you outside. The two of you assess party stragglers hanging out in the alley behind the bar, and suddenly, Mark is pushing you up against the brick wall there, pressing his lips to yours again.

You grab at his shirt, letting out a soft moan at the feeling of him. He kisses you like a man who’s been starved, and you suppose you both have been unsatiated in a way, for far too many years.

Mark’s lips move to your throat and you throw your head back, tangling your fingers through his soft dark hair. “For good measure,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe before pulling back.

His expression is unreadable as he looks at you. You’re still pinned to the wall, and your chest is heaving with the effort of trying to calm down after he’d just kissed your breath away.

“Good idea,” you mumble, giving him a curt nod.

“Let’s go home,” Mark says, grabbing your hand to pull you down the alley.

There are busier streets you could be walking- busier streets that a normal person would feel more comfortable using at a time like this, but you and Mark are looking for trouble, and as you make your way down a secluded alleyway ten blocks from your hotel, trouble finds you. 

“It’s quite the show you two have put on for me this week,” a voice rings out, and you immediately whip around to look at the man crouched on the fire escape one level up. You know the moment you see him that this is the demon you’ve been hunting. Although he looks quite human in the dim light of the alleyway, there’s an aura about him that feels wrong, dangerous. “Two little demon hunters out to catch a big bad. That’s very sexy.”

Mark’s hand flies to his belt, where his knife is hidden, but the demon lets out a low whistle that makes him falter.

“You won’t be needing that,” the demon announces. “After all, the aphrodesiac should be kicking in any moment.”

Your blood runs cold, and realization washes over you.

“Your little girlfriend has figured it out,” the demon clicks his tongue. “Have you?”

Mark’s gaze shifts to your own, and your pulse races at the brief eye contact, your pussy throbbing-

“I’m Hyuck, and I’m the demon who likes to eat my prey… after watching them fuck.”

“Shit-” Mark mutters, his hand beginning to shake by his hidden blade. 

“Just be grateful you’ll die after having sex,” Hyuck coos. “Something tells me the two of you have never fucked. I’ve been watching you all week. Bet you thought you were very convincing, pretending to be a couple and everything. Had your first kiss tonight, didn’t you? It’s cute.” The demon taps his fingers along the fire escape, standing up and looking down at you. “Cute that you ever thought the two of you could be a match for me.”

You try to grab your own blade, but your hands won’t cooperate. You’re overtaken by a need- if you’re not tearing Mark’s clothes off, you don’t want to touch anything at all. Your mind is still focused on the mission, but your body simply won’t do what you want it to do… except, you really want to jump Mark’s bones.

“If it’s any consolation, my aphrodisiac power only works on people who are already into each other. You can fuck without worrying that the other isn’t into it, and since it’s your last night on Earth, you might as well enjoy it… if you can.” Hyuck cocks his head to the side. “Guessing this isn’t the way you wanted your first time with your pretty little girlfriend to go, but, all’s fair in love, war, and demon hell spawns.”

You and Mark are still frozen, and you’re trying your best not to move a muscle, because you’re pretty sure if you do, you’ll all but launch yourself at Mark.

It’s a struggle to even speak, but you manage to say his name. “Mark?” 

“Yeah?”

“What do we do?”

Neither of you were prepared for this. A demon who can use sexual energy to force his prey to fuck, then devour them when they’re spent from a climax- this isn’t something you have any training for, and your mind is doing its best to figure this out despite the cloud of lust that’s threatening to overtake you.

“I-” Mark releases a groan. “I don’t know.”

“Struggle all you want, but it won’t matter,” the demon chuckles. “Here, I’ll make it easy for you. I bet she tastes wonderful, Markie, look at those kissable lips.”

Mark takes a step toward you, and his muscles quiver at the effort of holding himself back.

“Don’t you want to touch her?” Hyuck continues. “I know I would.”

“You’ll never touch her!” Mark snarls.

“I think you should eat her before I do,” the demon grins.

Mark swallows thickly, his eyes meeting yours. He’s breathing heavily, and you find yourself panting at your own restraint.

“Mark-” your voice cracks.

“We can do this,” Mark tells you. “We can kill him.”

“Mark-” you say, more firmly this time. “Just…” Your strength breaks, and you throw yourself at your friend, wrapping your arms tightly around him. Your lips ghost past his ear, and you whisper, “Fuck me, I have a plan.”

He turns his head as you begin to kiss his neck, his whole body shaking- and then he breaks too. His arms wrap around your body and he slams you against the wall, his mouth meeting yours in a fiery clash of tongues and teeth.

“There we go,” the demon whistles. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You’re hardly listening to the demon at this point, you’re consumed with an insatiable need for the man who has you pinned to the brick wall at your back. Mark is grinding against you, and you can feel his cock throbbing in his jeans.

You can’t help but move your hand down to cup him, and Mark groans deeply, his teeth biting at your bottom lip. He’s panting hard, and his breath tickles your throat as his lips move down to your breasts. His tongue trails along your collarbone, and he grabs one of your boobs, kneading the flesh there.

You gasp at how good it feels, squeezing him harder through his jeans. “Fuck-” Mark groans, roughly tugging your shirt and bra down. His mouth latches onto your nipple, and you release a whine of pleasure, throwing your head back.

Opening your eyes, you look up at the demon. He’s leaning over the rail, watching you and Mark with a lazy smile. To your utter disgust, Hyuck winks at you, and you avert your gaze, trying to focus on Mark.

Logistically speaking, the demon is probably banking on you and Mark using all your stamina in a lust fueled haze- you’d bet anything that this is about to be the most powerful orgasm of your life, and if you can just get there quick enough, hopefully you’ll have enough energy left over to kill the demon before he can kill you. 

Although, your body is already sore from holding yourself off when the aphrodisiac had kicked in, so this might be a long shot- but it’s the only one you have, and you’ll be damned if you die just minutes after fucking Mark Lee.

“Take your jeans off,” you tell Mark, voice gruff.

“Nuh uh uh,” the demon clicks his tongue. “I said I wanted loverboy to get a taste of you first. I don’t like repeating myself.”

Fuck. 

Mark’s already sinking to his knees, pushing your skirt up roughly and tearing your panties off. He looks up at you, and you can see there’s fear in his eyes. It’s obvious that he’s not acting out of his own accord now- the demon has completely consumed him with his lust, and it’s the most you can do to nod reassuringly. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “It’s okay, I want this.”

Sure, you want Mark to eat you out, but you’d never in your wildest dreams imagined it would be like this.

If you make it through tonight, you promise yourself that you’ll have a do over. 

You just need to make it through tonight. 

“Take her knife sheath off,” the demon instructs next, and you flinch when Mark tears the holster off your thigh, tossing it to the side.

Mark’s breath is hot on your wet pussy, and as you lift your leg to put it over his shoulder, you’re careful to survey the alleyway to see where your knife has landed. 

Mark dives into your pussy, his tongue lapping at the sensitive bud, and you release a loud moan of pleasure. Your hands find his hair, keeping him where you want him while you begin to grind against his face.

“Tell him he’s doing good,” the demon instructs. “He deserves a few nice things before he dies.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at Mark. “You’re doing good,” you whisper, your voice shaky. 

He groans in response, his tongue pushing into your wet hole and flicking at your walls. 

“Fuck-” you whimper. “My clit-”

“Suck on her clit, pretty boy,” the demon calls, releasing a mischievous chuckle that has your toes curling in annoyance and hatred. It’s almost a form of beratement, the way he’s talking to the soft boy between your thighs, and it fills your heart with vitriol. 

Mark’s wet lips suction around your clit, and he sucks lewdly. Pleasure jolts through your body, a kind of pleasure you’ve never experienced before. When you close your eyes, your mind goes numb, body entirely consumed by the feeling.

You’re not sure if this is the aphrodisiac at work, the long years you’ve wanted this, or if Mark’s just extremely good at eating a girl out.

“I’m close,” you whisper, tightening your grip on Mark’s hair. You don’t want him to move away, but your body also won’t allow him to. Mark could die between your thighs from suffocation right here and now, and you’re pretty sure you’d be powerless to stop it.

Mark moans again, his hands squeezing your thighs. You look down at him, your eyes meeting, and that’s all it takes for you to explode on his tongue. “Fuck!” you scream, writhing in his grasp- now it’s Mark’s turn not to let you get away.

Your orgasm is completely all consuming, every single muscle feels like it’s contracting, your skin flaring with a heat that rivals hell fire. You’re gasping, clutching at Mark’s curls, unable to do anything except for experience a high unlike that which you’ve ever dreamed of.

It feels longer too- like you’ve been suspended on cloud nine for minutes before Mark finally lets up. Then, he stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He undoes his belt in record time, pulling his cock out-

“Pick me up,” you tell him, legs feeling like jelly… although, your mind feels clearer than before. 

You need to conserve energy, and if you continue to stand like this, you’ll never be able to kill Hyuck. 

It’s all too easy for your strength based demon hunting counterpart to lift you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his hips as he pushes his cock into you.

Your lips meet as he sheaths himself deep in your pussy, your still quaking walls struggling to accommodate his impressive length. You’re a whimpering mess as he pins you to the wall, and he’s releasing low groans of his own that turn you on even more.

You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it drives you wild, your fingers tearing at his hair and shoulders for an anchor as he begins to fuck you.

Mark’s heart is thundering in his ribcage, and you can feel it where your chests are pressed together. You break the kiss, hoping to give him some breathing room since he’s now taking the bulk of the effort. Your lips find his throat, and you try to calm down, inhaling deeply through your nose, focusing on the smell of the mountain and your memories of training.

The demon has been too quiet, so you open your eyes to find out where he is. 

He’s come down from the fire escape, and he’s crouched on a dumpster just bellow the ladder, watching you intently.

You close your eyes again, focusing on Mark. He feels so good- working your pussy open with each rough thrust. His hands are steady on your thighs, keeping you up and pinned to the wall- his strength is so sexy, and your pussy throbs while you think about it.

Mark releases a groan, fingers twitching.

“Looks like loverboy might not last much longer,” the demon muses. “That’s a shame for you both.”

“Mark, I want to ride you,” you announce. “Wanna ride you when you cum.”

“Not just a pillow princess, are you, pretty little thing?” Hyuck grins.

“Let me ride you,” you say, more forcefully this time.

Mark releases a groan. “But this feels so good-”

“Mark,” you hiss. “Let me ride you!”

With a grunt, Mark pulls out of you, and he’s quick to drag you down onto the alleyway pavement.

He has the wherewithal to spread his jacket open so your knees don’t hit gravel as you mount him, lifting your skirt higher on your hips and sinking down onto his cock with a whine.

You sit there for a moment, both of you breathing heavily. Mark’s hands find your waist, and you rest yours over his own, giving him a squeeze.

He begins to bounce you on his cock, taking some of the strain off of your thighs. You brace your palms on his chest, maneuvering yourself so it’s the least strenuous position.

You’re so wet you can hear an audible slicklike smack with each thrust onto his cock. In this position, he’s hitting even deeper- and it takes all your mental control to not get completely lost in Mark this time.

You’re aware of your knife, a meter away, and the demon, who’s gotten even closer now, his eyes fixed on the meeting of you and Mark’s bodies.

“If we don’t-” Mark swallows thickly. “If we don’t make it out of this, I… I love you.”

Your heart practically bursts out of your chest at the innocent way Mark’s looking up at you even while balls deep in your pussy.

“I-” your voice cracks. “I love you too.”

“I a confession of first love- this is definitely going to satiate my sweet tooth,” Hyuck practically purrs. He’s now only two meters away, and caught in the raptures of his aphrodisiac, there’s nothing you can do about it- not yet at least.

“I’m close,” Mark tells you, drawing your attention back.

“Not until she cums too, loverboy,” the demon tuts.

Mark’s thumb finds your clit as you ride him, and your muscles scream at you as they begin to tense again, readying you for another Earth shattering orgasm.

“Fuck, Mark-” you groan.

You close your eyes, focusing on your breath and conserving your energy even while you ride him-

Each stroke of his thumb along your sensitive bud has you closer and closer, your thighs quivering desperately, your abdominal muscles clenching tighter and tighter-

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” You can’t even finish your sentence as your high slams into you.

You throw your head back, releasing a sinful moan as your entire body surges with that same all consuming white hot energy as before. Your skin tingles like you’ve been hit by lightening- and just below you, you hear Mark let out a groan of his own-

Now that you’ve cum twice, you feel as cognizant as ever, but it still takes all of your willpower to jump off of Mark as his own orgasm takes over. You can’t focus on him right now, and you dive for your knife, latching onto the hilt with shaky fingers.

You’d been trained for stamina and stealth, but your primary weapon of choice, has always been knives.

It takes a substantial amount of energy for you to even get to the blade, let alone still your body enough to release a breath and let the knife soar out of your hand, somersaulting in the air in something like slow motion toward the demon, who is as shocked as you are that you’d somehow overcome his aphrodisiac.

Before Hyuck can even dodge it, the knife lands in his chest. His stunned eyes find the blade impaling him, then turn to you for a moment, a moment later his body begins to melt, turning into a sludgy ashed mass on the alleyway pavement.

You release a breath before collapsing to the ground. 

There’s gravel pressing to your cheek, but you don’t even care. You’re overcome with exhaustion, an exhaustion unlike anything you’ve ever felt, and Suki used to make you climb the mountain three times every morning back during training.

“Y/N?” Mark calls your name.

“He’s dead,” you announce, breathing heavily.

“You did it,” Mark says, and although he’s too exhausted for much animation, you can hear the relief in his tone.

“We did it,” you tell him. 

You’d relied on his strength while fucking to conserve your energy for one throw of your knife at the very end of it, one semi-calculated move that had just saved your lives. 

The two of you simply lay there for a few minutes, regaining your composure as the last of the demon’s aphrodisiac effects wear off.

Finally, you sit up. Your legs are weak as you fix your skirt, covering your thighs and your dripping pussy. You lay down next to Mark, too shy to look at the cum that’s staining his shirt.

You hate that you had to jump off of him at the moment of his release- and you can tell from the pink flush of his skin that he’s embarrassed about it too. 

“It’s over,” you whisper, reaching for his hand.

Mark squeezes your fingers, but he stays quiet.

You don’t say anything else, and when you’re both able to stand, the two of you head back to the hotel.

Five

“Hi,” you say softly, watching Mark exit the bathroom, his hair wet from his shower. “How did you sleep?”

“Slept like a rock,” he responds. “You?”

“Same. Last night was exhausting.” In fact, your entire body aches.

“Guess we’ll both be going home today,” Mark sighs.

“Guess so…” You look at your suitcase, you’d taken the liberty of packing it while Mark was in the shower. “I think… I think I might go visit Suki.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh,” you nod. “After this one, I think I’d like to rest for a week, get my strength back up… not to mention a bit of a mental wellness check.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Mark agrees. “Maybe… maybe I should do that too.”

“You’re not needed back in your usual town to kill demons?” you grin.

“They can spare me a week if your town can spare you. I think we both deserve a rest after this one.”

“Should we book train tickets then?” you suggest, your heart warming at the idea of a small rest vacation with the demon hunter.

Mark nods, and you appreciate the soft smile that forms on his lips. “Let’s go back to the mountain.”

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! Tbh, I grew up watching supernatural, and after binging the demon slayer anime I knew I wanted to try this kind of au- so glad I chose Mark as the main love interest because he brings such a sweetness to this :)

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🔮 preview. You’d thought an orgasm while overcome with an aphrodisiac was good, but nothing compares to Mark Lee finger fucking you within an inch of your life on the rocky bank of the healing springs while the whole forest and mountain purrs around you.

cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, exhibitionism (fucking in a forest hotspring), grinding, teasing, hand job, pussy eating, body worship, nipple play, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, multiple reader orgasms, creampie, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 215

🌙 starring. Mark Lee x afab!Reader

 bonus

You’re lost in your own little world as you begin the trail up the mountain. The hot spring is only a short walk away, and you cling your towel tight to your body to protect yourself from the cool summer air. It’s always been cold here, but you know that as soon as you get in the water, you’ll feel a lot better.

The trees are like solitary soldiers, standing guard as you make your way up a path that you’ve walked a thousand times. Each tree root and rock is familiar, and you can feel the tension in your body relaxing already.

The smell of pine and rich earth is a comfort, and you take care to enjoy every moment of reprieve. 

Suki had mentioned that Mark had left for a hike a short time before you’d awoken. You’re not expecting to see him until lunch. Solace will be pleasant after the ordeal you’d just faced, and you’ve been spending a lot of time soul searching in the past two days since you’d arrived at the mountain.

While the aphrodisiac powers the demon utilized had provided the right thing at the wrong moment, part of you still feels dirty, and you want to wash away the feeling of alleyway gravel indented into your skin.

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[folkwhoredoll]

𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆 - 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒘 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝒙 𝒇!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

kinktober 2024 masterlist

pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader

warnings: smut

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You’re still laughing when the door to Drew’s apartment closes behind you. The evening had been fun — more fun than you’d expected. Between the subtle flirting, teasing glances across the table, and the easygoing jokes, you were almost sure that nothing would come of it. After all, it was Drew Starkey; charming, laid-back, with that irresistible grin that made your knees weak. But nothing serious, right?

Yet here you are.

Before you can say anything, his hands are already on your waist, pulling you in close, his lips hovering near your ear. "I've been thinking about this all night," he whispers, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers dig into your hips, grounding you against him, and for a second, you lose your breath.

"Drew…" you start, but he’s already tilting your chin up, his lips brushing yours softly, testing, teasing, until you can’t resist anymore. You kiss him back, hands finding his broad shoulders, pulling him closer. The intensity between you shifts, what started as playful banter now burns with need.

His hands slip beneath your shirt, fingers grazing over your bare skin as he pushes the fabric up and off, revealing your bra. The heat in his eyes makes your breath hitch, and you feel the desire roll through you in waves. There’s something about the way he moves; confident but easy, as though he’s savoring every second of you.

Without warning, he drops to his knees.

You stare down at him, your pulse racing, anticipation building as you watch his fingers hook into your jeans, slowly tugging them down your legs. The cool air hits your skin, and the sight of him between your legs.

Drew Starkey, looking up at you with that sinful grin that has you biting your lip in anticipation.

“Drew,” you whisper again, but your voice is softer now, more pleading than before.

His hands slide up your thighs, his palms warm against your bare skin as he parts your legs just enough to settle himself comfortably between them. The first touch of his lips on your inner thigh makes your breath catch, and he doesn’t rush — he takes his time, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, his stubble lightly scraping your skin in the most intoxicating way.

“I want you to relax,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. “Let me take care of you.”

You’re not sure how to respond, your mind is already spinning, your body reacting to every light touch, every flick of his tongue as he moves closer to where you want him most. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly, and Drew groans softly in response, sending a wave of heat straight through you.

And then his mouth is on you.

The first stroke of his tongue has you gasping, your hips bucking instinctively toward him, but Drew’s hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as he works you over slowly, methodically. His tongue moves with perfect precision, each pass over your clit sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

You can’t help the moan that escapes you, your fingers tightening in his hair as he continues his relentless assault on your senses. He hums against you, the vibration adding another layer of intensity to the already overwhelming pleasure building deep inside you.

“God, Drew,” you breathe, your voice shaky, and he just smirks against you before his mouth returns to its work, his tongue swirling and teasing, driving you higher and higher.

He pulls back for a brief second, his blue eyes locking on yours. “You taste so good,” he murmurs, and the simple statement has your entire body flushing with heat. Before you can even process it, he’s back between your legs, his mouth working you with a renewed sense of urgency, his fingers digging into your hips as he holds you in place.

It doesn’t take long before you’re falling apart beneath him, your body trembling as the orgasm crashes through you. You moan his name, your back arching off the bed as he pushes you over the edge, his tongue never slowing until you’re left a quivering mess in his hands.

When he finally pulls away, his lips are glistening, his hair tousled from your grip, and that smirk never leaves his face. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, rising to his feet as he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“You good?” he asks, his voice playful, but there’s a hint of pride in his eyes.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath, your body warm and languid from the release.

“Good,” Drew grins, his hands still roaming over your skin. “Because we’re just getting started.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

a/n: hi everyone! here's my first entry for my kinktober 2024 series🥰 i hope you enjoyed reading this 🤍

[lupinqs]

FIRSTS ━━ paige bueckers x azzi fudd

☆ ━ summary: paige and azzi’s firsts.

☆ ━ word count: 12.9K (jesus)

☆ ━ warnings: slight smut, angst, fluff.

☆ ━ author’s notes: hiiii!!!! this is my first time posting on tumblr, even though i’ve literally been lurking on here for actual years… yeah! but i write on both wattpad and ao3 and decided that i might as well start publishing my work on here too. i hope you enjoy!!

I. MAY 2017

They're at the USA basketball U16 Trials, the gym buzzing with the energy of teenage girls and their need to prove themselves. The court echoes with the sounds of squeaking sneakers and bouncing basketballs. Two teams have been created—jerseys and no jerseys—for a practice scrimmage. The air is thick with anticipation, the scent of fresh sweat mingling with the sharp tang of floor polish. 

Paige adjusts her jersey, fingers brushing against the cool, breathable fabric. She stretches her arms overhead, feeling the muscles lengthen and relax. Her eyes scan the court, taking in the familiar sights and sounds of the game she loves. She's been here before, in this exact position, waiting for the competition to begin, and each time it feels like the most important moment of her life. The adrenaline hums in her veins, a steady current of energy that she channels into focus.

The whistle blows, sharp and clear, slicing through the ambient noise. It's not long before Paige's team is on defense, and she positions herself near the top of the key, ready.  

Paige doesn't think much of anything when she first sets eyes on the girl she's guarding. The blonde made a few fast friends earlier in the morning and this girl surely isn't one of them. She doesn't know her; doesn't care about knowing her; doesn't think about knowing her. She doesn't notice the way her brown eyes are glazed over with focus, the slight crinkle in between her brows as she furrows them, the way her mouth hangs open ever so slightly. In fact, Paige's eyes barely scan the girl before they trail right back to the orange basketball set in her hands. She watches as the girl dribbles the ball with a practiced ease, focus unwavering.

Paige moves into a defensive stance, eyes never leaving the basketball. Knees bent, arms outstretched, the blonde is ready to react to any move the girl before her might make. She can feel the eyes of the coaches on her, the pressure of the moment heavy on her shoulders. But she thrives on this; the intensity sharpens her focus. 

The dribbling of the girl before Paige is rhythmic, almost meditative, the ball bouncing in a steady beat that matches the thumping in the blonde's chest. For a short moment, the pair stay like that, testing the waters. And then the girl starts to move, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, gauging Paige's reaction. She fakes left, then darts right, the ball a blur between her hands. Paige follows, movements fluid and quick, matching the girl step for step.

The girl changes pace, pushing off her back foot and driving toward the basket. Paige is right there, her hand reaching out instinctively. Her fingers brush against the ball, and in a split second, she hooks it cleanly from the other girl's grasp.

Paige takes off down the court, her legs pumping, heart pounding in her chest. She hears the surprised gasps and murmurs from the sidelines, but she blocks it all out. All that matters is the basket ahead of her. She dodges a defender, movements a blur of agility and speed. With a final burst of energy, she leaps toward the hoop, laying the ball gently against the backboard. It falls through the net with a satisfying swish.

It's what she does best: steals, swifts, scores.

☆

The scrimmage ends with the final whistle and the players disperse, heading for their water bottles and towels. The gym slowly empties out as everyone make their way to the locker rooms. Paige follows suit, breathless and sweaty as she walks alongside Celeste and Jordan, two girls she made friends with at the beginning of the day. She takes slow, methodic sips from her water bottle as she does her best to return her heart rate and breathing back to what it was before all the cardio. 

After a moment, Paige excuses herself from her new friends, heading to the bathroom. It's quiet in there, only for the faint hum of the ventilation system. Paige goes to a stall and locks the door behind her. She takes a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline that only basketball can bring her slowly ebbing away. It's not long before she flushes and exits the stall, heading to wash her hands. 

As she approaches, she notices the girl from before standing at the sink, hands under the running water. Paige hesitates for a second, then moves to the sink next to her, the proximity making her suddenly aware of the dull silence between them. The blonde turns on the faucet, letting the cold water rush over her hands. She glances sideways at the girl, who's now drying her hands with a paper towel. 

Despite Paige's initial steal on the girl, it turns out she's a total bucket-getter. She'd surprised Paige and certainly got her revenge on her, scoring four three-pointers right over the blonde's head. Each one had swished so perfectly that all Paige could think was: sharpshooter. 

It takes Paige a moment to summon her courage and confidence—considering it's usually right on the surface and doesn't need to be summoned—but when she does, she speaks. 

"Hey," she says, voice breaking the quiet of the sterile bathroom. "You were great out there. Seriously, like, one of the best shooters I've ever gone against." 

The girl looks up, eyes meeting Paige's. There's a moment of surprise, followed by a small but genuine smile. "Thanks," she replies, voice warm and somehow smooth like butter. "You're really good, too. Surprised me a little bit, actually," she adds, a joking tone curling around her vocals. 

Paige lets an offended yet amused smile overtake her features, putting a hand on her heart as she amusedly says, "Hey!" 

The girl isn't on her own there, though. Paige knows that most people who look like her—skinny as bones and white as paper—can't play basketball like her. She's had people doubt her since she was little, but she manages to prove them wrong every time. Another case in point right here. 

Before the other girl can retort back, Paige asks, curious, "What's your name?"

"I'm Azzi," the girl answers, her smile widening just enough for a dimple to appear. 

Azzi, Paige notes, tucking it in the back of her mind, thinking it may be important one day. Whether that be sooner or later. 

And now, for the first time, Paige lets herself really look at this girl—Azzi, she reminds herself. She's probably about an inch or so shorter than Paige, and she's got tan skin and dark, curly hair that's been pulled back into two braids. Her brows, without the furrow of intensity she held during the game, lay flat, smoothing her forehead and giving her a softer look. Her brown eyes are deep and expressive, framed by long lashes. Her lips are full and her jawline is sharp but soft, with a smooth curve to it. Her two front teeth are slightly longer than the others, a bit like bunny teeth, and the dimples digging into her cheeks are charming in a way Paige has never seen before. 

And there, Paige realizes—with a slight sense of embarrassment—just how pretty Azzi is. 

It's a realization that catches her off guard, and—humiliatingly—she stumbles over her words as she introduces herself, coughing out, "'m Paige." 

Azzi nods, and Paige does her absolute hardest to try to push down the blush she can feel rising in her cheeks as the girl murmurs, "It's nice to meet you, Paige." 

Azzi's slowly walking towards the bathroom door now, and as she opens it, she adds, calling over her shoulder, "Hopefully next time we can be on the same team."

Paige stands there by the sinks, slightly frozen as she responds, "Yeah." 

Only after Azzi has closed the door behind her, leaving Paige alone there in the bathroom, the blonde adds, voice low in a whisper meant only for herself, "Hopefully."

II. AUGUST 2018

"Az, can you get my back?" Paige's voice echoes from the bathroom, where she's been applying sunscreen to her pale skin for the last few minutes. 

Azzi hums in response, halting her movements of packing her small drawstring up. She glances at her bag, half-full with essentials for their boat outing, before heading towards the bathroom. 

They're at the lake house, the last month of summer in full force. Azzi's grateful to get away from home for a little while, now in a different kind of home that she much prefers to the other.

The door to the bathroom is slightly ajar, and Azzi pushes it open gently. Paige is standing there, clad in her hot pink bikini—the girl sure does love her bright colors, Azzi knows that—with her back exposed, a bottle of sunscreen in hand. The sight of Paige is one Azzi has grown accustomed to over the past year, yet, especially more recently, it never fails to send a jolt through her. Paige's skin is a blank canvas, pale and soft, a stark contrast to Azzi's own tan complexion.

"Gimme," Azzi says, hand reaching for the bottle. Her voice is steady despite the unmistakable flutter of those butterfly wings she feels in her chest, her stomach, her everywhere. They've got the kind of pitter-patter that only Paige can bring her. And it only worsens when the blonde looks back at Azzi, meeting her eyes, baby blue on chocolate brown, hands brushing as Paige gives the younger girl the bottle, a stupid, beautiful grin of gratitude stretching her features. Azzi ignores the feeling, having grown accustomed to that, too, instead taking the bottle and squirting a generous amount of sunscreen into her palm. 

Paige pulls her hair to one side, giving Azzi full access to her back. Azzi's hands hover for a moment—a stupid hesitation considering how much she and Paige touch each other—before she gently places them on the older girl's shoulders, starting at the top and working her way down. The lotion spreads smoothly, a thin layer of protection against the summer sun. 

As her hands move across Paige's back, Azzi doesn't miss the silence. It's odd. Paige is such a chatter box that Azzi really never gets any silence when around her. Azzi remembers being a bit fed up with Paige last year because of it. It was in the earliest stages of their relationship, following them both securing their own roster spots on the FIBA U16 team. Paige was always talking and talking and talking, and Azzi was tired. Maybe it was because Paige was never talking to her. For some odd reason, that whole month of USA basketball, Paige had been such a babbler with anyone and everyone that didn't have the name Azzi Fudd. At first, Azzi thought Paige didn't like her. It made sense: Paige wouldn't speak to her, wouldn't make eye contact with her (on the off chance that their eyes did meet, Paige would immediately flit her own to anything that wasn't the chocolate color of Azzi's irises), and sometimes stared at her like she was something else completely. It made Azzi uncomfortable and even a little disheartened because they played so well together, and yet this girl wouldn't give her the light of day off the court. Of course, Paige was never rude to her. Azzi knows that Paige hardly even has the capacity to fulfill the word, ever the people pleaser. If Azzi spoke to her, Paige would respond kindly. She just never went out of her way to start the conversions on her own. And Azzi guesses she shouldn't have cared that much about it, except that Paige would start conversations with everyone else. In a way, it made her feel alienated.

However, it didn't take too long for Azzi to realize that whatever Paige's shyness around her was caused by, it wasn't that the blonde disliked her. Because whenever their team took group photos, the spot next to Azzi always seemed to be taken by Paige. The weight of the older girl's palm on Azzi's waist, the way their shoulders brushed as the camera would snap the shot, quickly became familiar nature between the two of them. And then, when they won the gold medal, Azzi was the first person Paige went to. Paige had let out a little scream of victory before launching herself into Azzi, arms wrapping around the younger girl's neck. They'd never been that close before, and Azzi recalls it making her head spin slightly. They had been sweaty and full of adrenaline, and Azzi had let herself hold onto Paige tightly, because they'd won. And then, in line while getting their medals, the pair held hands and Azzi got her first taste of what Paige's fingers felt like intertwined with her own. 

Truly though, the turning point was the flight back to Minnesota. Azzi supposes Paige was feeling bold, because as soon as the blonde's eyes set on her, she made a beeline for the seat right next to Azzi. Despite the celebratory affinity they'd shared earlier in the week, it caught Azzi a bit off guard. And yet, as soon as Paige sat down next to her, all that chatter that Azzi had watched the girl bestow upon their teammates was suddenly entirely reserved for her. Throughout the whole flight, Paige talked and talked and talked, and Azzi listened and listened and listened. They shared grins and fought to hide blushes and when the plane finally landed, it sealed the deal for Azzi. 

This chatterbox, bottle blonde, skinny white girl (that also happened to be one of the prettiest people Azzi had ever laid eyes on) was meant to be her best friend. 

So, now that they're standing here, Azzi's hands on Paige's skin, and Paige isn't saying anything, and Azzi—true to her quiet, listening nature—isn't either, things feel strange. The younger girl doesn't know why Paige is silent. She certainly doesn't let herself get so far as to guessing, though, because she knows that her mind will only take her to places she shouldn't go. Places she knows Paige has never let herself go to. 

But it's difficult. The silent air between them is thick, charged with a tension that's always there but never so predominant as now. Each touch sends a spark through Azzi, a reminder of the stupid fucking feelings she's been harboring for months now. It's maddening that Paige, her best friend of all people, has suddenly become the center of Azzi's thoughts, the place her mind always seems to be wandering back to. 

But, really, Azzi thinks, if you knew Paige, how could she not? She's a vibrant hue in a world of grey, so full of life. She's got a laugh that lights up any (and every) room she walks in, and a smile that makes Azzi's heart skip a beat. For Azzi, being around Paige is like basking in the warmth of the sun—comforting, but sometimes too intense to bear. 

Azzi's fingers brush against the nape of Paige's neck, and she feels a shiver run through her body. Her touch is careful, deliberate, but the closeness makes it hard to ignore the fluttering in her stomach. She takes a deep breath, hoping to steady her racing heart.

Azzi finishes spreading the sunscreen, her hands lingering for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. In that brief moment, she's acutely aware of everything—the warmth of Paige's skin under her fingertips, the faint scent of the sunscreen mingling with Paige's own subtle fragrance, the soft rise and fall of Paige's breath.

She pulls her hands away, taking a step back. Paige turns to face her, a grateful smile on her lips. "Thanks, Az."

Az, Az, Az, Az. Azzi's mind replays the way her nickname sounds falling from Paige's lips. 

"Mhm," Azzi hums, her voice more casual than she feels. 

And, before anything else can be said between the two of them, Katie calls out from downstairs, "You girls ready yet? We're waiting on you!"

"Yeah, we're coming!" Azzi calls back, grateful for the interruption. She gives Paige one last smile before heading out of the bathroom, her heart still pounding in her chest.

☆

Azzi's tired, curled up under the quilt laid upon her bed. Her bones ache with exhaustion, her skin burns from the extra exposure to the sun, her eyes are red and sore from rubbing all of the lake water out of them. She scrolls mindlessly on her phone, knowing she won't be able to sleep until Paige is over whatever energy burst she's got right now. 

The blonde girl is sprawled on the floor, digging through her duffle bag vigorously, searching for something she clearly needs. When she began the hunt a few minutes ago, Azzi asked what she was looking for and offered to help, but Paige had only waved her off, saying she'd find it herself. Azzi rolled her eyes and collapsed back onto her bed, trying to ignore the annoying sounds of Paige zipping and unzipping her bag, as well as tossing items along the floor. 

Azzi notices when Paige finally finds what she's been so longingly looking for. The shuffling halts, and Azzi sees Paige stand from the corner of her eye. Azzi begrudgingly sits up in bed, eyes set on her best friend, raising her brows ludicrously as she sees Paige's hands holding something behind her back, almost as if she's hiding it from Azzi. 

"Don't be mad, okay?" the blonde says slowly, smile full of suppressed energy. Azzi catches the spark that glints in Paige's eyes, a hint of mischief that usually means trouble. 

The younger girl rolls her eyes, ignoring the comment. "What do you have, Paige?" she asks, feeling a little bit like a mother that's about to have to reprimand her child. 

Paige, sheepishly, pulls a small object that's tucked in a ziplock baggie from behind her back, holding it up with a hopeful grin. 

Azzi's eyes widen and her jaw drops in surprise. Whatever she thought her best friend was hiding, it wasn't a blunt. But there it is, and Azzi can't help but stumble out, "Where did you even get that?"

"One of my friends from back home gave it to me when I told her I'd never smoked before. Said it was good stuff," Paige replies, grin widening. "I brought it here and, well... thought we should try it?" 

Azzi feels the familiar hand of anxiety wrap it's fingers around her rib cage. She gulps, asking incredulously, "Are you serious? What if we get caught? My parents will kill us!" 

"It was a long day, they're knocked out," Paige reasons, her tone reassuring. "No one's going to catch us. Besides, don't you wanna try it? Just once?"

Azzi bites her lip, torn between the thrill of doing something forbidden and the fear of getting caught. Her mind races with the possible consequences, the weeks of grounding she'd face should her parents find out about this. But then she looks at Paige, who's watching her with those bright blue eyes, full of excitement and trust.

"C'mon, Azzi," Paige coaxes. "It'll be fun. Just you and me. We've never done anything like this before. Don't you wanna know what it feels like?"

The logic is flimsy, but Paige's enthusiasm is infectious, per usual. Azzi feels a thrill of rebellion bubbling up inside her, fueled by the day's excitement and the safety of her parents' sure exhaustion. She takes a deep breath and nods.

"Okay, fine. But we have to be careful," Azzi says seriously, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Paige's face lights up with a triumphant smile. "Deal. Let's sneak out the back."

They move quietly through the dark cabin, careful not to wake anyone. The night air is cool against Azzi's skin as she and Paige slip out the back door, making their way down to the dock. The lake is a mirror, reflecting the starlit sky, and the only sound is the soft rustling of leaves and the gentle splash of water against the wooden posts. It's comforting; no one is out here to catch them. 

The pair sit on the edge of the dock, legs dangling over the water. Azzi watches, heart pounding in her chest, as Paige fumbles with a lighter, her hands shaking slightly with anticipation.

"Ready?" Paige asks, looking at Azzi with a mix of excitement and nervousness. 

Azzi nods, her stomach a knot of nerves. Slowly, Paige brings the blunt to her lips and flicks the lighter, the small flame dancing in the night. As the blunt is lit, she takes a deep drag, holding the smoke in her lungs before exhaling slowly. She coughs a bit, but otherwise does pretty well for her first time. If Azzi didn't know better, she'd think her best friend has done this before. 

"Your turn," Paige says, passing the blunt to Azzi.

The younger girl takes it with trembling hands, bringing it to her lips. She mimics Paige, inhaling deeply. The smoke burns her throat, feeling like fire, and as soon as it makes contact with it, she coughs violently, tears springing to her eyes. Beside her, Paige laughs softly, patting her on the back.

"It gets easier, I think," Paige does her best to assure her, taking another drag and passing it back.

They continue like this, passing the blunt back and forth. Paige was right; each drag becomes a little easier than the last. The initial discomfort gives way to a strange, floating sensation. Azzi feels lightheaded, her thoughts fuzzy and her body relaxed.

The tension that Azzi has felt lingering between them all day seems to dissipate, dissolving into the lake air, replaced by a sense of peace and friendship. They giggle at nothing and everything, words flowing freely as the high takes hold.

"You know, I've always thought you were like, the coolest person ever," Paige breaks the silence, her voice dreamy and sincere.

Azzi laughs, feeling a warm glow spread through her chest. "Please," she scoffs lightly, rolling her eyes. That makes her feel a little dizzy; she notes not to do that again. "You're the cool one, Paige. You're so confident and, just, like, fearless. I wish I could be more like you."

Paige shakes her head, eyes bright and unfocused, irises tinted pink. "Nah, you've got this... quiet strength," she murmurs slowly, trying to find her words through the haze of intoxication. "You're always there, you know? Always solid. I really admire that."

The words strike a chord in Azzi, her heart swelling with affection. "Thanks, P," she mumbles, trying to keep her voice steady. "That means a lot."

They fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the night filling the gaps between their words. Crickets chirp, leaves rustle, the breeze ruffles the water slightly. Azzi feels a strange sense of peace, a connection to Paige that goes beyond what she can put into words. It's as if the high has stripped away all the pretense, leaving only the raw, unfiltered truth of their friendship.

Azzi's mind drifts to the past year, to all the moments they've shared. Late-night FaceTimes, endless basketball practices and 1v1s, and quiet moments like this one. She thinks about how much Paige means to her, how her presence has become nothing short of a constant source of comfort and joy.

And then, unbidden, comes the realization of just how deep her feelings run. It's not just some crush she's got; it's something more profound, more terrifying. Azzi thinks she feels that certain way about Paige. She can't think it, can't conjure up that certain word, but, deep down, in that corner of her heart that's reserved exactly for the blonde girl and no one else, Azzi knows. And, no matter how terrifying it is, it's real. It makes her heart ache with longing.

"Hey, Azzi?" Paige's voice breaks through the younger girl's thoughts, soft and curious. 

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever thought about... you know, like, what it would be like to be with someone? Like, really be with them?"

Azzi's heart skipped a beat, her mind racing. "Yeah, I guess I have," she murmurs. I imagine being with you, she fights the urge to say. Instead, she adds, "Why do you ask?"

Paige shrugs, looking out at the lake. "I don't know. Just wondering. Sometimes, I think about it, and it's weird, you know?" She pauses, and Azzi guesses it's to gather her thoughts. "Like, how do you know if you really like someone or if it's just... I don't know, a crush?"

Azzi swallows hard, trying to keep her voice steady. "I think you just... know," she murmurs, nearly choking on the words. "It's like, you can't stop thinking about them, and you want to be around them all the time. They make you feel... different."

Paige turns to look at her, her eyes searching Azzi's face. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's just... confusing."

Azzi nods, her heart aching with unspoken words. "Yeah, it is."

Another bout of silence settles around them like a warm embrace, the lake shimmering under the starlit sky as the pair continue passing the blunt back and forth. Azzi's mind fogs thick with cannabis, the effects of the drug heightening her senses. Her anxiety is long gone, replaced by a much gentler buzz. She looks over at Paige, who's watching the ripples on the lake with a dreamy expression. 

It's not long before Paige speaks again, unable to bear silence. Even high, she remains a chatterbox. Azzi would never admit it, but she finds it slightly endearing.

"You know," Paige begins, her voice soft and contemplative, "I've never kissed anyone before."

Azzi turns to her, nearly choking at the admission. She didn't think their conversation would take a turn like this. And... truthfully, she's quite surprised. She knows how sought after Paige is; she's witnessed it. "Really?"

Paige nods, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah. What about you?"

Azzi hesitates for a moment. She thinks about lying; she doesn't know why. However, all thoughts of that go out the window when she meets Paige's gaze. It's full of a tenderness that's beckoning her, begging her, to be honest. "No," she mumbles. "I've never kissed anyone either."

The words hang between them, a delicate thread of unspoken desires and uncertainties. Azzi dares a glance at Paige, meeting her eyes briefly before looking away, a blush creeping up her cheeks. She curses herself for it, wishing she were able to hide it better. 

Azzi feels Paige shift closer, their shoulders brushing. Her breath hitches slightly at the contact, the warmth of Paige's presence sending a shiver down her spine. "Azzi," Paige whispers, her voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the lake.

Azzi turns to face Paige fully, her heart pounding in her chest. She feels slightly nauseous as Paige's eyes search hers. She can't tell what exactly is swirling in Paige's pupils. Azzi has an idea, but it's so ludicrous she thinks she should never let the thought enter her own head ever again. 

"Have you ever thought about... what it would be like to kiss a girl?" Paige's words are soft, tentative, testing the waters. 

It's safe to say they nearly make Azzi fall into the lake and drown. 

The younger girl feels her cheeks flush with warmth, the question catching her off guard. She looks down at her hands, picking at a loose thread on her shorts. She knows the answer. It's a simple yes or no question. And yet, it takes so much strength to say the words. Because it's terrifying. It's absolutely mortifying. Maybe if Azzi had thought about kissing literally any other girl, it wouldn't be so bad. But it's the fact that the girl she's thought about kissing, and liking to kiss, is Paige... that's what truly scares Azzi.

"Um," Azzi stumbles, coughing. She doesn't let the tears that she feel behind her eyes spring up. She's braver than that. "Yeah. I have," she finally admits quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige's expression softens, a tender understanding in her eyes. It makes Azzi know what's coming next. "Me too," Paige murmurs, her gaze lingering on her best friend's face. "Sometimes, I think about what it would be like."

(Azzi might actually die.)

There's a pause, a shared moment of vulnerability hanging between them. Azzi feels a knot in her stomach, a mix of fear and anticipation. This conversation feels like a threshold they're tiptoeing towards, a door they're both hesitant to open but curious to explore. Maybe every single little thing she thought was one sided... isn't. 

Paige reaches out, her thumb gently tracing the indent of where Azzi's dimple is. It's a familiar gesture, one that Azzi has grown used to, but tonight, under the influence and with the weight of their words hanging in the air, it feels different. Paige's touch lingers, and it makes Azzi's lungs feel like they're going out. 

Without a word, Paige's hand slides along Azzi's jawline and moves to cup her cheek, her touch warm and tender. Their eyes meet, and in that moment, every single little thing, every single line they've not yet crossed, seems to shift right before their very eyes. Azzi can feel the rhythm of her heart echoing in the silence between them, a steady drumbeat of anticipation.

Azzi closes her eyes, surrendering to the moment, the high helping her do so. It's a soft press of lips that starts it, barely a graze. Azzi feels their breath mingle, feels Paige's hand move from her cheek to the nape of her neck, pulling her closer. And then she deepens the kiss. 

Azzi's hand finds Paige's waist, holding her close as she leans into her, their bodies fitting together as if they've always belonged. If Azzi could get any closer to Paige, she would. The world around them seems to fade into the background, leaving only the sensation of Paige's touch, the taste of her lips against Azzi's.

When they finally pull away, Azzi's heart might as well be failing, her mind buzzing with the fact that she just kissed her best friend, who she may also be a little in love with.

She feels Paige lean her head against Azzi's shoulder, grabbing her hand and intertwining their fingers. It's familiar; something they do so often it might as well be second nature at this point. But as Paige's thumb rubs circles on Azzi's hand, the younger girl thinks this might be a little different. She hopes it's a little different.

"I'm glad it was you," Paige whispers, her voice filled with warmth and sincerity.

Azzi smiles softly, feeling something she's never quite encountered before. "Me too, P," she murmurs, heart swelling with affection. "Me too."

III. MAY 2020

It's baking night, they've decided. A little after dinner, Paige's stomach began growling, and she'd complained to Azzi that she was hungry once more. Azzi wouldn't hear it, considering this was an everyday occurrence. So, Paige had begrudgingly rolled her eyes and gone to the kitchen, searching for a snack. The cupboards were mostly bare if not for ingredients; the Fudds needed to make another grocery trip. But Paige was hungry now, so she began searching into cabinets she'd previously left untouched. Eventually, she reached the smaller ones above the microwave and stove. What she found there made her face light up in an excitement that's been dull for a few days now (what with her and Azzi's family having exhausted most of their quarantine activity ideas). In the cabinet was a litany of baking mixes, frosting, piping bags, and sprinkles. 

And, of course, when Paige begged to make cupcakes, Katie and the others were all ears. (What else can they do?)

Paige isn't very good at baking, she's found. They'd had to throw the first batch away after the girl had accidentally spilled far too much milk in, effectively ruining it. It's not her fault; she swears she's out of practice. And she is. The last time she baked was when it was just her and her mom in that apartment, when Paige was still living half-and-half with her parents following their divorce. It was before her mom moved over to Montana, met Paige's step-father, and had two more kids. They'd been cramped in a tiny kitchen, in what Paige's mom called her "temporary apartment" (it was), and it would be too cold outside to take Paige to the playground or let her shoot hoops on the concrete. So, they'd decided to try baking. It was something they loved doing together, but Paige has watched it slowly fade away because now whenever she's in Montana, Ryan and Lauren get their way and they decidedly don't like baking. So, Paige thinks it's okay that she's a little terrible at it considering she hasn't done it since she was practically still in pull-ups. 

But here, with Azzi's family, Paige also thinks she can learn to be better at it. Because it's just so easy with them. It's not as if being at home in Minnesota, or being with her mom in Montana, is difficult necessarily. She loves her dad's little house in Hopkins, where the basketball courts freeze over and there's snow more often than not. She loves her dad, who's always pushing her to be better, coaching her even though it's not his job anymore. She loves Drew and his wild need to be just like her, her own personal mini-me. She loves her step-mother and step-brother, who have raised her in more ways than one. And she loves her mom's house in Billings, with its family-fun pool and sprawling backyard. She loves her mom, who will always be her biggest supporter, no matter what. She loves Ryan and Lauren and the endless stories they always have to tell her when she's visiting. But it never quite feels whole, on either side. Almost like there's a little cavity that won't fill, no matter how much amalgam is used to try and whisk it away. 

Paige doesn't feel that here with the Fudds. There's no missing puzzle piece, no hole to fill. And she's somehow managed to worm her way right into their welcoming arms. There's this sense of utter belonging she feels here, with them, with the rhythm they've created, and she's grateful. She's grateful for Katie and Tim, who treat her nothing short of another daughter. She's grateful for Jon and Jose, who are a constant source of entertainment and chaos, poking fun and making Paige laugh until her sides ache. She's grateful for Azzi, who's her best friend, her anchor, her constant. 

Paige is just grateful to be apart of something so loving and warm, especially now when the world outside is so uncertain. 

"Paige, can you pass me the vanilla extract?" Katie's voice echoes from behind the blonde girl's back, pulling her from her thoughts. 

Paige's ears perk up at the sound of her name, and she reaches for the small bottle. "Here," she calls, tossing it to her best friend's mother. Katie catches it easily, sending the girl a grateful smile.

Paige then returns her focus back to Azzi, who's focused on mixing the batter, brows furrowed in concentration. It's the same crease she gets when she's playing, Paige realizes easily, having committed every corner of Azzi's features to memory. The blonde feels a rush of warmth when her best friend's arm lightly brushes hers, as if they haven't been practically living in each others skin for weeks now. Paige, entranced and unblinking, watches as Azzi continues mixing, taking note of the way the reflecting sunset highlights her best friend's features through the kitchen window. 

Apparently she's been staring for too long, though, because Azzi, exasperated, asks, waving a hand in front of the blonde's face, "Hello, earth to Paige? You good?"

Paige snaps back to reality, feeling a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Yeah, just thinkin'," she mutters absentmindedly, shrugging as she tries to play it off. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you wanted to lick the spoon," Azzi teases, holding out the batter-covered utensil. 

Paige smirks, responding, "Nah, I'll let you do the honors."

The blonde watches as her best friend raises her brows at the rejection, surprised. Paige just shrugs, still smirking. Azzi repeats the action, and then slowly, maybe a little too slowly, brings the spoon up to her lips. She makes eye contact with Paige, keeping the same pace as she licks the utensil, tongue flicking against it before putting the whole thing in her mouth, sucking it clean. Paige feels herself freeze as she watches, breath hitching at Azzi's actions and the look on her face as she does it. 

Jesus Christ, Paige curses in her head. It's an anomaly; she's not one to usually think or say the Lord's name in vain. But, seriously, Jesus. 

Azzi's smirk is wide as she drops the spoon in the sink. As Paige's eyes scan the younger girl's face, she decides she wants to get her back. She's about to stick her finger in the batter, ready to make a show of licking it clean just as Azzi did to her. But as her finger hovers over the bowl, she feels Katie smack her hand away, effectively ending Paige's plan and the moment she was sharing with Azzi.

"Enough of that," Azzi's mother scolds Paige, but the girl can see the hint of a smile on Katie's lips. "The cupcakes are ready for the oven."

The next half hour is spent cleaning up the mess they've made, with plenty of giggles and a few playful splashes from the sink shared between the two teenage girls. It doesn't take too long for the cupcakes to finish, and the whole family relocates to the back deck to start the decorating process. 

"These look amazing," Jose says, eyeing the cupcakes hungrily. 

"Wait until we decorate them, fatty," Jon replies, elbowing his brother in the ribs as he picks up a tube of icing. 

Paige begins decorating her own cupcake, picking blue and red colors. She hopes she has room for a husky and the word UCONN. She begins to squeeze a swirl of blue icing onto her cupcake, the air filled with the scent of vanilla and laughter as they all concentrate on their own cupcakes. 

"I think you missed a spot, P," the blonde hears Jon say from across from her, his voice too innocent to be sincere. 

Before she can even look up at him, she feels the cold spelt of frosting hitting her grey sweatshirt. Outraged, she turns to see Jon grinning at her, piping tube filled with hot pink icing still in hand. 

"Oh, you are so dead," she says, scooping up a handful of icing and launching it at the younger boy. It hits him square in the chest, and Paige thinks the look of shock on his face is utterly priceless. 

Chaos erupts. 

Jon retaliates, and it's not long before icing is flying in every direction. Paige dodges a glob of frosting thrown by Jose and responds by smearing a streak of bright red icing across his cheek. 

"Hey, stop! You guys are gonna make a mess!" Katie's voice rings out by the door, having backed away from the rambunctious food fight. Beside her, Tim is doubled over on his knees, lungs aching with his wheezing laughter. 

The four teenagers pay neither adult a piece of mind. Instead, the deck becomes a war zone. Paige soon finds herself caught in a fierce battle with Azzi. They're both laughing uncontrollably, slipping and sliding on the icing-covered deck. Azzi manages to smear a handful of frosting onto Paige's face, and the blonde retaliates by tackling the younger girl, sending them both crashing to the ground.

They lay there for a moment, breathless and laughing, before Azzi attempts to crawl away. But Paige is determined. She scrambles after Azzi, finally managing to pin her down. As the younger girl squirms beneath the blonde, Paige nuzzles her face into Azzi's neck, smearing icing everywhere. 

"Paige! Stop!" Azzi manages to squeal out between laughs; Paige knows her neck is where she's most ticklish. Azzi continues trying to wiggle free, but she's laughing much too hard to put up a real fight. 

Paige grins and pulls back slightly, only to realize their faces are inches apart. As Azzi fights to catch her breath, her eyes sparkle with mischief and something else, something deeper. Paige's heart skips a beat at it. She knows they both look ridiculous, covered in icing and laying on the dirty deck, but there's something there, between them. And it makes her heart race and stop all at once. 

For a moment, the world seems to stand still. Paige feels a rush of emotions—affection, longing, confusion. The three that always seem to be associated with Azzi. She's acutely aware of the younger girl's breath against her skin, the way their bodies are pressed together. It would be so easy to lean in, to close the gap between them. They've done it a couple times before. 

Katie's voice cuts through the moment like a knife. "Alright, enough! Go clean up, all of you. This is a disaster."

Paige, coming back to her senses, quickly breaks her stare and rolls off of Azzi, standing up and offering her best friend a hand. She helps Azzi to her feet, and they both glance around, seeing the mess they've made. A few feet away, Jon and Jose do the same. 

"We outdid ourselves this time," Paige says, a hint of amusement in her voice. 

"No kidding," the three Fudd siblings say in unison. 

☆

Paige stands under the hot spray of the shower, letting the water wash away the remnants of icing and the chaos from earlier. She closes her eyes, tilting her head back in the water, trying to relax. But all her mind can think about is her best friend, the feeling of her breath on Paige's face, her lips... 

Paige is confused. 

If only things with Azzi could be a straight path, one without all the twists and turns. She presses her hands against the cool tile wall of the shower, trying to ground herself. The water pours down her back, soothing her muscles but not her mind. Every thought leads back to Azzi, to the way her touch lingers, the way her smile lights up the room. Paige wants to scream, to cry, to laugh—all at once. She hates and loves and loathes and adores the way Azzi makes her feel. 

When she and Azzi first kissed—out on that dock nearly two years ago—it had been spontaneous, a sudden burst of emotion that Paige attributed to the weed. It had felt right in the moment, but they had never talked about it, never addressed it. They had just continued as if nothing had changed, even though everything had. And then, each subsequent kiss after only deepened Paige's confusion. Trust her, she's tried to convince herself that they're just best friends who occasionally cross a line that most don't, but deep down, she knows it's more than that. Her feelings for Azzi... they're too much, too saturated, too bright of a burst that Paige can't label them as merely friendly. 

It makes her heart and her lungs and her head ache, the uncertainty of it all. She's gone out with other girls, kissed other lips, but none of them compare to Azzi. None of them make her feel like she might implode from one look, one touch. None of them make her heart soar and plummet at the same time. For a while, Paige tried to chase that feeling, kissing all different people, searching for that high. She never found it. Because it always comes back to Azzi, to the way she makes Paige feel alive and terrified at once. It's almost like the younger girl has carved a piece of her heart and kept it, leaving Paige feeling incomplete without her. For Paige, the realization that she likes girls has been a difficult journey, fraught with self-doubt and fear. But coming to terms with her feelings for Azzi is an even greater challenge. It's one thing to accept her own sexuality; it's another to confront the possibility of loving her best friend.

And, of course the knowledge that—other than Paige—Azzi has only gone out with boys adds another layer to the blonde's confusion. It makes her feel like an outsider in Azzi's world, like she's asking for something Azzi can't give. Paige hates that thought, hates the idea of being a complication in Azzi's life. She wants to be everything to Azzi, but she's scared that she'll only end up being a burden. She tries to push those thoughts away, to focus on the present, but it's hard. The fear and longing are too strong, too deeply rooted.

When Paige finishes showering, she towels off and dresses into a Hopkins t-shirt and basketball shorts quickly, not bothering to dry her hair, letting it drip onto the floor as she walks back into Azzi's bedroom. There, she finds Azzi already settled in her bed, searching for something to watch on the TV. It's become basic tradition ever since Paige got here: watching a new movie every night (even though more often than not, they fall asleep during it). Azzi looks up and smiles warmly as Paige enters. It's a smile that makes Paige's heart flutter.

"Find somethin' yet?" Paige asks, trying to keep her voice steady. 

Azzi shakes her head. "Not yet. Come help me look."

Paige smiles and climbs into bed beside her. It's almost automatic how they cuddle up together, Azzi's head resting on Paige's shoulder, Paige's arm wrapped around Azzi's waist. This closeness is familiar, comforting, and Paige finds herself shifting her weight into her best friend further, craving the feeling. She thinks she belongs right here, holding Azzi, Azzi holding her. 

Eventually, they settle on Love, Rosie. Apparently, Azzi heard it was good on TikTok and decided they should try it. 

As the movie starts, Paige's hand begins to move almost unconsciously, tracing small circles and patterns along Azzi's inner thigh. It's something she's done countless times, just another way she expresses physical touch. As she does it, she can feel the warmth of Azzi's skin through the thin fabric of her shorts. It sends shivers down Paige's spine, and she does her best to pay attention to the TV, to ignore the way her chest feels like it's on fire. 

However, it's hard to do that when she feels Azzi shift slightly, spreading her legs just a little more. It could be a natural movement, unintentional. But Paige's heart skips a beat anyways, and she glances at Azzi, whose eyes remain fixed on the screen. Paige hesitates for a moment, unsure. And then, very slowly, she inches her hand higher on Azzi's thigh, testing the waters. When Azzi spreads her legs a bit more, Paige knows she's reading the signals right. It makes her heart stop and speed up in one go. 

Paige's fingers move with the pace of a snail but ultimately continue their journey upwards until they reach the edge of Azzi's shorts. She leans closer, her breath catching in her throat. "Can I?" she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Azzi nods slowly, her eyes still locked on the TV. Paige slips her fingers under Azzi's shorts and underwear, her touch gentle but deliberate. She's done this with other girls, but it's never felt like this. The anticipation, the excitement, the sheer intensity of the moment is almost overwhelming. She's wanted this for so long, quite literally dreamed of it, and now that it's happening, it feels surreal.

Paige begins to slowly work her fingers on Azzi's clit, movements careful and measured. Her eyes scan the younger girl's face for any sign of discomfort, but all she sees is pleasure. Azzi's breathing slowly grows more ragged, her body responding to Paige's touch in a way that makes Paige's own lungs feel heavy. As she watches Azzi, irises locked on her features, the only word that comes to mind is beautiful. 

Unable to resist any longer, Paige leans in and captures Azzi's lips in a kiss. It's only the fourth time they've ever kissed (yes, Paige may have been counting), but it feels like coming home. Azzi's lips are soft and warm, and the way she kisses back is so perfect, so desperate, that it makes Paige dizzy. The little noises Azzi makes underneath her only heighten the intensity, and Paige finds herself smirking against her best friend's lips. 

The kiss deepens, becoming more heated, more urgent. Paige's hand moves with more confidence now, her fingers working Azzi's clit with increasing intensity. Azzi moans into the kiss, her body arching against Paige's touch. It's all Paige can do to keep herself grounded, to focus on Azzi and the present. 

Paige breaks the kiss just long enough to tear Azzi's shorts and underwear off completely, her hands shaking with a mix of nerves and excitement. She positions herself between Azzi's legs, her fingers slipping inside with a confidence she's never felt before. The feeling of Azzi's warmth, her wetness, is almost too much to bear. Paige moves her fingers in and out, slow at first, then faster as Azzi's moans grow louder.

Azzi's hands grip her sheets, her eyes squeezed shut. Paige watches her, mesmerized by the sight. This is everything she's ever wanted, everything she's ever dreamed of. She leans down, capturing Azzi's lips in another kiss, her free hand tangling in Azzi's hair. The kiss is fierce, almost desperate, their tongues tangling as their bodies move together.

"Paige," Azzi whimpers. Hearing her name on Azzi's lips like that sends a jolt of desire—of absolute need—through Paige. She moves her fingers faster, pressing deeper. 

And, fuck, as Azzi repeats her name again, Paige can't help herself. She has to taste her best friend.

Paige moves down, her fingers still pumping in and out as she lowers her mouth to Azzi's core. The first taste is intoxicating, and Paige's mind goes blank with desire. She licks and sucks with a hunger she's never felt before, almost primal in a way, her fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony. All she knows is she wants Azzi to feel good, to feel perfect. 

Azzi's hips buck against Paige's mouth, her moans growing louder with each passing second. Paige feels like she's drowning in Azzi, in the taste and the smell and the feel of her. It's everything she's ever wanted and more, a dream come true. She can feel Azzi's orgasm building, the way her body tenses and her breathing quickens. Paige redoubles her efforts, determined to make it good.

"Fuck—" Azzi gasps, her voice barely more than a whisper. "'M so close, don't stop." 

Paige hums in response, the vibrations sending Azzi over the edge. She comes with a cry, her body shuddering with the force of it. Paige keeps going, prolonging Azzi's pleasure as long as she can.

Finally, Azzi collapses back on the bed, spent. Paige pulls back, her face flushed and her heart racing. She looks down at her best friend, who's gazing up at her with an expression that makes Paige's legs feel like jelly.

"Paige," Azzi whispers the girl's name again, the only word her mind can conjure. Her hands reach for her, and Paige lets herself be pulled in for a kiss. Their lips meet, softer this time. Paige sighs into it—she could kiss Azzi for hours on end and never get sick of it. 

The blonde lays down next to Azzi, ready to sleep, ignoring the ongoing movie. However, before Paige can barely close her eyes, she feels them fly open as Azzi shifts so that she's on top of Paige now, straddling her. 

Paige flushes pink, mumbling, "Az, you don't have to—"

"Shut up," the younger girl interrupts, effectively halting Paige's words. Azzi leans down, lips finding purchase on the blonde's neck. Immediately, Paige's hands fly up to Azzi's hips, gripping the skin. 

However, Azzi stops far too soon for Paige's liking, pulling away. Paige tries to mask her disappointment at the lack of feeling, eyes feeling wide as she watches her best friend's every move. 

Azzi leans closer to Paige, lips nearly brushing the older girl's as she toys with the strings of Paige's basketball shorts. Paige feels her breathing stop. 

"Do you want this?" Azzi asks, fingers slowly undoing the tie. 

Paige nods, probably a little too quick and a little too enthusiastically. "Yes."

Azzi smirks. "Good."

IV. MARCH 2022

Azzi stares at herself in the mirror, her reflection looking back with a set determination. It's been weeks since she's gone out with the team, weeks since she's allowed herself to think about anything other than basketball. Tonight, she's determined to let loose, to have fun, and to forget about everything that's happened with Paige, if only for a few hours.

"Az, you look great," Caroline says, standing beside her and applying the final touches to her own makeup. 

"She's right," Amari pitches in from where she sits on the closed toilet seat. "If Paige doesn't take you home tonight, I will."

Caroline gives Amari a little slap on the arm for bringing up the "P word," as she's dubbed it. Since the fight and the ultimate end, or break, or whatever it is, of Paige and Azzi, Azzi has made it clear that she doesn't want to talk about the Bueckers girl if not necessary. And Caroline has respected that, doing everything she can to distract her friend from anything Paige-related (unless it came to basketball, of course).

Azzi lets herself smile a little, interjecting, "Carol, it's okay." But then she does give Amari a pointed look, saying firmly, "But I will not be going home with Paige tonight. That would only make things even more fucked than they already are."

Amari nods in understanding as Caroline glances at Azzi whilst putting her lip gloss on. "So, if not Paige..." she starts in a questioning tone, "will you be going home with someone else?"

Azzi sighs, shrugging. "Depends on what happens, who I run into," she responds. "Could be a good distraction, though."

She doesn't miss the worry that flashes in Caroline's eyes at that, but she also doesn't have it in herself to care about why. She's in college, fucking someone to get her mind off something isn't exactly uncommon. 

Nonetheless, Azzi appreciates Caroline's support in more ways than she can express. She knows her friend has noticed the change in her over the past few weeks, the way she's thrown herself into training with an almost obsessive fervor. Basketball has always been her refuge, but, lately, it's become her lifeline, a way to drown out the pain of seeing Paige with other girls, of knowing she isn't enough for the person she loves most. 

Azzi takes a deep breath and adjusts the strap of her top. It's a lilac number which truthfully could pass more as a bra than the cropped tank it's labeled as. She wears it with her new, perfect jeans which she knows hug her in all the right places. She hasn't worn anything like this in ages, preferring the comfort of sweatpants and oversized hoodies. But tonight is different. Tonight, she wants to look and feel her best (and maybe get someone to help her with that last part).

"Let's go," Azzi says, squaring her shoulders. She grabs her wallet and follows Caroline and Amari out of the bathroom and into the living room where the rest of their teammates have been waiting, Paige excluded. Azzi doesn't know where the blonde is. She tells herself that she doesn't care either. 

As they walk to the bar, the chilly Storrs air nipping at their skin, Azzi can't help but think about the last time she went out with the team. She remembers the way Paige had laughed and flirted with other girls, the way she'd entertained their advances while Azzi stood by, pretending it didn't bother her. But it had. It had hurt more than she'd ever let on, and it was that night—where she watched Paige willingly leave the bar with another girl that wasn't Azzi, not even bothering to say goodbye to her best friend—that had solidified her decision to end whatever undefined thing they had between them.

Ted's is buzzing with energy and life when they arrive, music thumping and people crowding. Almost immediately, Aubrey and Aaliyah are pulling Azzi to the dance floor, getting swept up into the excitement. Azzi goes with it, swaying her hips to the music and laughing with her teammates. 

Of course, it isn't long before Azzi sets eyes on her best friend, bright blonde hair sticking out in the sea of people. Quick after, Nika, from beside Azzi, catches sight of the girl, too, eagerly calling her name and waving her over. 

When she approaches, Azzi doesn't even give her the satisfaction of looking at her. She is not letting Paige Bueckers ruin her night. 

☆

And yet, despite her proclamation, Azzi thinks she may indeed be letting Paige Bueckers ruin her night. 

The brunette girl leans against the bar, vision blurry as she tries to focus on the bartender, on the who-knows-what-number drink of the night in her hand, on anything that is not the corner of the bar on her left side. It doesn't work. Curiosity manages to get the best of her, and she finds her eyes sliding over. She watches as Paige flirts with some girl, smirking as she leans down and says something into the girl's ear. Azzi's stomach twists with jealousy and longing. She's been in that position before, knowing exactly how it feels to have Paige's breath warm against her skin, her words sending shivers down her spine. Now, all she can do is watch. It makes her want to die that she isn't the one with Paige, and that she's the reason she isn't.

You did this, she tells herself as she takes a sip from the glass in her hand, letting the alcohol burn down her throat, hoping it'll numb the ache in her chest. (It doesn't.)

"Hey, you're Azzi Fudd, right?" a voice sounds on Azzi's left side. 

At the sound of her name, Azzi glances over, eyes landing on some guy probably a year or two older than herself. He's tall—taller than Azzi—with blonde hair and cerulean blue eyes that twinkle in the light. He's cute, she thinks half-heartedly. 

"That's me," Azzi responds, managing a smile. 

"I'm Sam," the guy introduces himself, sending her a grin of his own. It's charming, the kind that most girls would swoon over. Azzi hardly even blinks at it. 

They chat for a bit, Azzi allowing herself to enjoy the attention, though admittedly pretending to be more interested than she is. He's funny, though, and she laughs at his jokes, letting herself put a hand on his arm flirtatiously. But even as she entertains him, a part of her can't stop thinking about Paige, especially because she's right behind Sam, talking to someone who isn't Azzi. 

Azzi tries not to sigh, thinking about how many times they've done this. Gone out, had fun, flirted with other people, only to end up in each other's arms by the end of the night. Still, she knows she can't do that. She refuses to let herself get sucked back into that cycle.

However, as Azzi continues harmlessly flirting with Sam, she manages to catch Paige's gaze from across the bar. She watches as Paige takes in the sight of her and the Sam, eyes narrowing slightly, a challenge in them. Azzi feels a spark of defiance ignite in her chest. If Paige can flirt with other people, so can she.

Quickly, the conversation with Sam becomes a sort of competition. Azzi flirts more boldly, leaning closer, laughing louder, all while keeping an eye on Paige. Paige, in turn, seems to double down on her own flirting, making sure Azzi sees every touch, every smirk. It's maddening, and yet, it only fuels Azzi's resolve.

"Wanna get outta here?" Sam asks lowly, eyes trailing to the door. 

Azzi smirks and nods, letting him take her hand. As they make a beeline for the exit, Azzi feels a rush of triumph in her chest. She's won this twisted game, if only for a moment.

But before they can leave, Azzi feels a more familiar hand encircle her wrist, pulling her away from Sam. It's Paige, of course. Azzi wants nothing more than to scream at the blonde as she gives Sam a short, apologetic smile, saying, "I'm so sorry, I really need to talk to Azzi for a second."

Anyone that knows anything about UCONN basketball knows that Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd are a package deal, so Sam, looking a bit disappointed but understanding, nods and lets go of Azzi's hand. Azzi mutters protests to Paige as she's practically dragged to the bathroom by the older girl. 

Once inside, Azzi barely has time to process everything before Paige has her pushed against the wall, kissing her fiercely. The suddenness and intensity of it makes Azzi's head spin. Her body responds instinctively, hands reaching for Paige, gripping the skin of the blonde's waist. And then she remembers herself. Azzi's eyes fly open and she pushes Paige off, her anger flaring.

"Stop, Paige! What the fuck?" Azzi practically shouts, voice echoing in the small space.

Paige stares at her breathlessly, baby blue eyes looking foolishly innocent as they contort with confusion. "Why? We both want this."

Azzi shakes her head, trying to settle the fuzziness of the alcohol. "No, Paige, we can't. I can't."

"Why not?" Paige demands, stepping closer again. Azzi puts a hand on her bare stomach to stop her. It sends a jolt through her, and she's quick to remove it. 

As they stand there, face to face, Azzi can't help but let her mind wander to their last real conversation that wasn't just a murmur here and there on the court or on the bench. It was a few weeks ago, the morning after Paige had left the bar with that girl. It was early, Azzi still half-asleep as she felt her best friend crawl into her bed, maneuvering herself into Azzi's arms. Azzi had welcomed the embrace sleepily, before her mind traced back to the events of the night before. How lonely Azzi had been at the bar while Paige outright ignored her, how she'd gone home early feeling nothing short of miserable. And it only got worse when Azzi's eyes flew open to see Paige sporting a UCONN volleyball shirt, no doubt from the girl she'd fucked last night over Azzi. 

And then they'd fought. Azzi was uncharacteristically mean, words biting at Paige's every movement. She could tell Paige was confused, but when Azzi pointed out what she was wearing, everything seemed to click into place. Paige apologized, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough, because—very clearly—Azzi wasn't enough for her. 

Azzi didn't tell her that, of course. Instead, she'd ended it. Just like that. 

And they haven't spoken since.

Until now. 

"Why not, Azzi?" Paige demands again, voice raising slightly as her breath fans against Azzi's face. 

Azzi takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of the alcohol and her words pressing hard against her chest. "Because I can't keep doing this, Paige! I can't keep pretending that it doesn't hurt every time I see you with someone else! I can't keep acting like it's okay to be your best friend who you casually fuck when I'm in love with you!"

Paige's eyes widens, but Azzi presses on, the words tumbling out of her in a rush. "Yes, I've been in love with you for years, Paige. And every time you're with someone else, it hurts. I thought I could handle it, but I can't. I thought that maybe, when I came here, things would change. That we'd stop seeing other people, that we could be together for real. But I was wrong. Clearly, I'm not enough for you. And it fucking kills me. I can't keep watching you with other girls and pretending it doesn't hurt. I can't keep pretending that I'm okay with just being your friend. Because I'm not. I want to be everything to you, and it hurts that I'm not. And it hurts even more that I know you don't want me to."

Paige stands there, speechless, her eyes wide with shock. As she stares, Azzi realizes exactly what she's done. She's just spilled all of her well-kept secrets and feelings, and it makes her feel sick. She is going to be sick. 

"You're in love with me?" Paige asks quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Before Azzi can answer, she feels the familiar bout of nausea rise up. She rushes into one of the stalls, puking into the toilet, all the drinks from the night spilling from her guts. Almost immediately, Paige is right behind her, holding her hair back, ever the best friend. 

When Azzi is done, there's a long, quiet moment. The reality of what she's just confessed hangs heavily in the air. She doesn't know whether to cry or scream or run away. Maybe all three. 

Maybe none.

"You need water, and some carbs, too," Paige murmurs softly, voice gentle as she swipes a hand through Azzi's hair in an attempt to comfort her. 

Azzi doesn't say a word, too drained and emotionally spent to respond. She lets Paige help her up, and together, they leave Ted's, Paige's steady hand on her back as they exit the bar. Azzi's body trembles with the aftereffects of alcohol and the intense outpouring of emotions. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling utterly drained. Paige tries to guide her, but Azzi steps away, keeping her distance, needing space.

Azzi follows Paige's lead in the night air, walking alongside her. It's cool outside, helping to clear her head a little. They walk in silence, the only sounds the occasional car passing by and their footsteps on the pavement. Paige stays close, but Azzi can feel the tension between them, an invisible barrier that she can't bring herself to cross.

Eventually, they arrive at a small diner. The neon sign buzzes softly, casting a warm glow over the entrance. Paige holds the door open, and Azzi steps inside, the smell of greasy food and coffee hitting her immediately. It's oddly comforting.

They find a booth near the back, away from the few other patrons scattered around. Azzi slides into the seat, her body feeling heavy and sluggish. Paige sits across from her, and for a moment, they just look at each other, the weight of the night hanging between them.

When the waitress comes over, Paige orders for both of them, getting burgers and waters. Azzi doesn't have the energy to object. She just needs something to settle her stomach and clear her head.

As they wait, Azzi stares at the table, tracing patterns in the worn Formica surface. Her mind is a hurricane of thoughts and emotions, the confession she made to Paige replaying over and over again. She feels raw, exposed, and utterly vulnerable. She hates it. 

At one point, she glances up and catches Paige staring at her, her expression a mix of concern and something softer, something that makes Azzi's heart ache. Paige's lips part, and she murmurs, her voice barely audible, "Azzi—"

"Don't," Azzi interrupts firmly, her voice trembling slightly. "Please, just don't."

Paige's face falls, but she nods, looking down at her hands. The silence between them stretches out, heavy and oppressive. All Azzi knows is that she can't bear to hear whatever Paige has to say. She doesn't want to know if it's pity, regret, or something else. She isn't ready for any of it.

The waitress brings their food, and Azzi takes a bite of her burger, the familiar taste grounding her somewhat. She sips her water, feeling the cool liquid soothe her throat. Paige eats in silence as well, and Azzi occasionally catches her glancing up to watch her, though never saying a word. 

As they eat, Azzi's mind trails back to their time together, the stolen moments and secret kisses. She thinks about the mornings spent tangled in each other's arms, the way Paige's touch made her feel alive and cherished. But those moments were always fleeting, overshadowed by the reality of their situation. They were never truly together, just best friends who blurred the lines and hurt each other in the process.

Azzi's chest tightens as she reminds herself about all the girls Paige has been with, the countless nights spent in other beds. It hurts to think about, to know that she isn't enough for Paige, that she can't be the one to make her stay. The jealousy and pain are like a constant thorn in her side, a reminder of everything she wants but can't have.

She sneaks a glance at the blonde, who picks at her food, lost in thought. Azzi wonders if Paige feels the same, if there's any part of her that wants more, that feels the same ache and longing. She thinks there has to be. There have been too many moments that seem so domestic, so intimate that some corner of Paige's heart has to feel something other than friendship with Azzi. But she can't bring herself to ask. Not now, not when everything feels so raw, like a fresh wound.

The rest of the meal passes in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. When they finish, it's Paige that pays the bill. And then they leave the diner, stepping back into the cool night air. Azzi still keeps her distance, heart heavy.

When they reach Azzi's apartment, she fumbles with her keys, the silence stretching unbearably. She opens the door and steps inside, ready to close it behind her. But then Paige's small voice halts her movements and she pauses. 

"Azzi?"

Azzi turns, and she feels her heart clench at the sight of Paige, eyes filled with unshed tears. Azzi stands there, unable to speak, her breath catching in her throat.

Paige takes a hesitant step forward, her voice trembling. It's very un-Paige-like. "Can I say something? Please?"

Azzi nods, throat tight. She can't refuse Paige anything, not when she looks so vulnerable.

She watches as Paige takes a deep breath, before her words begin spilling out in a rush. "I'm so sorry, Azzi. For all the other girls, for everything. If I'd known how you felt, I never would have done any of it. I was scared. Scared of how strong my feelings are for you, scared of what it would mean for us. We're so young, and I didn't want to ruin our friendship and everything we have. And even if it didn't ruin things, I was scared that one day it would all fall apart. My parents divorced, my mom and dad both divorced from my step-parents... I don't know how to believe in something lasting."

Paige's voice breaks, and she wipes at her eyes. "But, Azzi, even though I'm scared, I want to try. If you still want to, I want to try. Because I'm in love with you, too. So fucking in love with you. And I have been since I met you at those basketball trials. You were so perfect and beautiful and it's like as soon as you told me your name, I knew I was a goner."

Azzi's breath hitches, and she feels wetness on her cheeks from tears she doesn't register shedding. Paige's words cut through her defenses, melting the walls she's built around her heart. This is Paige, her Paige, standing there with her heart in her hands.

Without thinking, Azzi reaches out, pulling Paige inside and kissing her hard. Paige responds immediately, her arms wrapping around Azzi's waist, pulling her closer. The kiss is fierce, desperate, and full of all the emotions they've kept bottled up for so long.

In between kisses, Paige murmurs against Azzi's lips, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Azzi giggles and her heart feels like bursting. Finally.

V. APRIL 2022

Considering everything they’ve gone through after all this time, it’s a little odd that this is their first real date.

Paige can’t help but smile as she watches Azzi get ready in their hotel room. The sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over Azzi’s face. It’s nice to have a moment together without all the stress of the past month. No basketball, no fans, no pressure—just them.

Paige has been planning this date for weeks, determined to make it perfect. She wants nothing more than to create a memory that’ll belong to just the two of them, something that’ll mark the beginning of their new chapter. Sure, it’s a little bittersweet that it came the day after losing the national championship, but maybe that’s fitting. Paige knows they can both use a little joy after the disappointment.

“Ready?” she asks, grabbing her keys and their jackets.

Azzi nods, excitement and curiosity shining in her eyes. “Definitely. What’s the plan?”

Paige grins, her heart pounding. “It’s a surprise, but I promise you’ll love it.”

They leave the hotel together, walking through the crisp air of Minneapolis. It’s a city that both of them are rather familiar with. However, Paige can tell as they continue walking that Azzi doesn’t know this particularly part that they’re in. It makes her glad; more of a surprise. 

Finally, they reach it. Paige stops walking, letting Azzi take in what they’re doing. They’re in front of a small, charming theater. The marquee reads: “Private Screening — Welcome, Paige and Azzi.”

“You rented out a theater?” Azzi asks, eyes widening in surprise. 

Paige nods, now a bit nervous that the moment is finally here. “Yeah. I thought it would be better to go somewhere where it could be just the two of us, no interruptions. No distractions.”

Azzi smiles, that smile that Paige will never be able to get enough of, and murmurs, “It’s perfect, P.” And then, she adds, as they enter the building, “What movie are we watching?”

Paige just shakes her head, letting that be a surprise, too. Besides, it shouldn’t be hard for Azzi to guess: they share the same favorite movie, after all. 

The staff greets the pair, leaving them to the theater they’re watching in. Paige anxiously watches Azzi’s face as they enter, wanting everything to be perfect. Inside, there’s blankets and snacks—and, on the screen, the opening credits of “Love & Basketball” begins to play. 

Azzi lets out a little laugh at that, muttering into the skin of Paige’s shoulder, “I should’ve known.” 

Paige grins down at the younger girl, glad she’s happy with what they’re doing. And, as they watch the movie that both of them can probably quote word-for-word, she continues stealing glances at the girl, her heart swelling with affection. Azzi looks completely at ease, her eyes glued to the screen, a soft smile playing on her lips. This movie had always been special to them, their favorite—and, after all, the first movie they ever watched together. 

As the movie continues, Paige’s thoughts drift. She lets herself think about the journey that had brought them here, the highs and lows, the moments of doubt and certainty. She thinks about the first time she realized she was in love with Azzi, the fear of ruining their friendship, the countless nights spent wondering what could be. She thinks about how she had been terrified at first, afraid of the intensity of her own feelings. But, eventually, she couldn’t deny the truth any longer. She was—she is—in love with Azzi, deeply and irrevocably. And, after Azzi had confessed her feelings that night in the bar, everything had changed.  

Paige reaches over, intertwining her fingers with Azzi’s. Azzi turns to her, eyes locking with Paige’s, nothing but deep, true love in them. Paige feels a rush of emotion at it, overwhelmed by the depth of her feelings. It’s nothing new; Azzi manages to make Paige feel like this every single day. 

“I love you,” Paige whispers, her voice barely audible over the movie’s dialogue.

Azzi’s eyes soften, and she leans in to kiss Paige gently. “I love you, too.”

Eventually, the movie ends and they leave the theater, going to get dinner. And, as the sky begins to darken and their date begins to end, Paige can’t help but think that she wants every first to be with Azzi, as well as every last. There’s no one else, and there will never be anyone else ever again. And, even if she’s getting ahead of herself, even if this is their first “real” date, Paige knows she wants to spend the rest of her life with Azzi. 

And she fucking plans to.

[latenightdaydreams]

Please do part 2 of Mechanic Konig. I'm begging you!!! Your writing is AMAZING! I have to reread your writing every day because I can't get over it 😩

Thank you!!! I'll be writing a lot more this week, so there will be more! I finally made a part 2!!! I hope you enjoy!!🥰

Mechanic!König x Reader Part 2 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1 here! 🚗

Master List!

>cw: fem/afab, pregnancy, p in v, oral

1.4k word count

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You sit in your car holding your newest ultrasound pictures. You made a last-minute appointment to see the doctor assuming you might have the flu, but being a few days late on your cycle the doctor asked for you to take a pregnancy test. Once it came back positive you were sent to the women’s health center for an ultrasound. You’ve been celibate for almost a whole year, other than your random hook up with that mechanic… You let out a long sigh before driving off.

You pull up in front of his shop, putting the ultrasound photos in your purse before stepping out of the car. Walking up to the open garage door, it’s almost like déjà vu. There König is wearing a white shirt and jeans, covered in oil. He looks up and meets your gaze for a split second before he looks down, realizing who he just saw, his head snaps back up.

“Y/n?” König speaks softly as if surprised to actually see you again. The last few weeks you’re all he has been able to think about. He’s been waiting for you to call or show back up and now here you are. His eyes drift down your body, taking in how amazing you look, and back to your eyes.

“Hi, König.” You walk closer into the garage. “Are you busy right now?”

“No,” he gently shakes his head. He closes the hood of the car he was working on and grabs a rag to clean his hands off. “Do you want to go to my car?”

Yes, you think to yourself, but you came here to talk. “No, I think we should talk.”

König tilts his head when you say no. He drops the dirty rag on the bench behind him and he looks at your cleavage again before back to your eyes.

“Is your car running okay?”

“Yes, its fine.”

“So, what is it?” He leans back as his blue eyes keep glossing over your body. All he can think about is how good you felt and looked naked in the back of his car.

“Um, so, I went to the doctors today.” The word doctor piquing his interest. “And she did a few tests on me…” You stall nervously not knowing how to tell him. What if he reacts poorly?

“Are you pregnant?” König asks, hurrying your story along.

“I am,” you nod softly, “I have ultrasound photos.”

“You do?” He perks up. “How far along are you?”

“11 weeks,” you go into your bag and pull out the ultrasound photos.

König quickly steps forward and grabs them from you.  His eyes glued to the image of a tiny fetus shown on the ultrasounds.  He studies every photo, a flood of emotions rushing through him at this moment. He can’t believe he actually got you pregnant.

“I came to be responsible and tell you. I don’t know what I’m going to do-” he cuts you off.

“I said that I would support the both of you and I meant it.” His eyes meet yours. “I have a big house, I make great money, and you’ll never have to work again Schatzi. You can just focus on raising our baby.”

You don’t say anything as you stand there taking in what he has said. Supporting a whole family is a huge responsibility. You don’t even know him, could you really build a life with him?  

“You laid down with me, you let me get you pregnant. Please, let me take care of you. Both of you.” He reaches a hand out and gently caresses your upper arm. His eyes showing genuine intent as they fall to your stomach even though you aren’t even close to showing yet.

“We don’t even know each other…”

“We will learn,” He looks back down at the ultrasound photos in his hand. “Please.”

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König runs his large hands over your swollen stomach, softly holding it as his eyes watch your growing breast bouncing. Your nipples have darkened and areolas enlarged. You’ve even been gaining weight, making your thighs and ass bigger. Your changing body is a beautiful sight to behold and it’s changing all because of him. Small moans of pleasure leaving his lips as he watching you eagerly bounce on his cock. Since you entered your second trimester, your hormones have been all over the place making you extremely horny. König is loving every second of it.

“König,” you whimper his name out as you feel yourself getting ready to reach your third orgasm.

“Ja, Liebing, there you go, let it out.”

He moves one of his hands down and begins to rub your sensitive clit with his thumb. He moves in slow focused circles making your legs begin to tremble. You slow down and lean forward slightly, letting out loud moans as your velvety walls flutter around his cock. König takes deep breaths and tries to focus his mind to not cum yet, he knows you aren’t done. Once he feels your body relax, he moves his hand away from your clit.

He gently lifts your body and leans back, grabbing a pillow and putting it under your head before laying you down gently. His eyes roam down your body as he bends down to lick your nipples, softly sucking on them as he feels your fingers comb through his short hair. He lines his cock up with your entrance and pushes himself back into you, mouth still latched to your breast.

“Oh yes, please.” You push his head away so he can sit up. “Fuck me harder.”

König nods his head as his hands wrap around your thick thighs, he pulls your legs apart and back making sure to be careful with your baby bump. König can’t believe how beautiful you look; how tight your cunt feels. He can’t believe how he got so lucky with you.

Your eyes trace the shape of his muscular body, seeing how his muscles flex under the light sheen of sweat covering his body. Your hands gripping the bedsheets as he fills your small cunt completely. You feel euphoric burst of pleasure every time he thrust forward; you clench down on him. König lets out a loud moan in response.

“Meine Liebe, I’m going to cum.” König’s voice cracks as he doesn’t slow his motion. His toes curling and eyes fluttering.

“No, please don’t stop, I’m not done yet.” You pant, feeling your next orgasm just beginning to build.

“Es tut mir Leid,” König chokes out as his hands drop your legs and move up to your full breast and squeezes them. His motion slows as his cock throbs inside of you.

Once he finishes, he pulls out and drops to his stomach, placing his head between your legs. He begins to lick your clit, his tongue flicking back and forth causing you to squirm and moan softly. One hand rest on you stomach as the other pushes two fingers into your cunt full of his cum. Curling his fingers up, he begins to finger you, quickly moving his arm. He tastes the mixture of your creamy cunt and his salty seamen.

“Right there, please don’t stop.” You moan in a whiney tone; König loves to hear it.

He doesn’t stop as his lips wrap around your swollen clit and sucks. His fingers rubbing against your g-spot rapidly as your back arches. Listening to you moan out his name as your squeeze his head between your plump thighs he lets out a satisfied groan into your cunt. Finally, you orgasm, he licks long laps up and down your pussy before pulling his fingers out.

He looks up and smiled at you as you lay there catching your breath. He has an air of arrogance about him, being able to make you cum so many times.

“I’m going to go clean up Liebling, I’ll be back with a towel to clean you too.” König leans in and kisses your belly before standing from the bed and going to the bathroom,

Once he was all clean, he grabbed a towel and began to walk back to you in the bedroom. Once there he sees you fast asleep, cuddling the blanket. König can’t help but to smile. He leaves the towel at the edge of the bed and tries to cover you the best he can without waking you up.

König decides to get dressed and goes to the nursery to continue painting, what he was doing before you ask to be fucked. He opens up the can of paint and pours some in the tray. Getting the roller covered in paint, he begins to cover the last white wall in the room with a pale pink color.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Ghost & König’s Reaction to You in a Maid Outfit

Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Implied Sexual Content, Rough Ghost & König, Dominant Ghost & König, Lashing (with a Belt), Restraining, Victim Blaming (Kind Of), Petnames, König is Basically Feral™, Implied Oral, Threats, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

Comes up behind you when you’re idling with something and straight-up just sticks his hand up your skirt.

He pulls you to his chest when you jump, squeal, taking advantage of your flailing to hook the band of your underwear and pull them down your thighs.

Confused, you’re given no time to react before Ghost has your hands pinned behind your back, held in place with handcuffs of bone, flesh and pure muscle as he shunts you against the countertop, something protruding – intruding – hard against your exposed centre as he presses himself tightly against you.

Your cheek pressed against the cold surface, you barely see or hear Ghost between your startled breaths, feeling only a shadow come over you as he leans down to your ear, his free hand slithering from your back to your face, where he slips a lock of hair from your vision.

“Did’ya really think you could get away with wearing this,” he said, low, dangerous, his hand coming to grip the hem of your skirt.

“Without consequences ?”

You can feel his hand on your thigh now, gripping the skin hard enough to leave a pale imprint of his lust. Fingers slithering up the expanse of your leg, resting just beneath where you’ll be screaming for him to have mercy half an hour from now.

It doesn’t matter what you do or say now – not that you can or will be able to do much of either with your arms bound and Ghost occupying your mouth with a meat delicacy you can’t buy over a counter (despite that being where you are now, ironically) in about ten minutes’ time..

“The time for apologies is over, Darling,” he tells you. You wince when you hear his belt hissing as he slides it from his jeans, the material crinkling in his grip as if the creature it hailed from was still alive.

And he cracks it. Once. Twice. Against your bare thighs, making you cry out, your stockings having withered under Ghost’s harsh stare.

“All you can do now is repent.”

König

Lures you into a false sense of security with low, soft praises of “How beautiful you look, Engel !” And “Won’t you come closer so I can have a better look at you ?”

By the time you may suspect something in König’s tone is unusually jovial, it’s too late.

You missed the feral glint in his eye, the shattering grip he had on his wine glass, discarded as he turns his attention to you now.

Before you can even wonder what it is he’s thinking, you’re slammed onto the sofa, König sinking down on top of you, his hands steel around your wrists as he holds them beside your head.

And now, you see it.

All at once, and entirely too late.

A predatory possession of all that was your kind, mild-mannered, sensitive König, replaced with a shadowed imitation, blackened by an almost supernatural depth of desire none but he could execute to its fullest potential.

And it shows in how his breathing is ragged despite you posing no real physical test to his strength. Rather, there’s something within trying to break free. And it has you in its sights.

Leaning down, König takes the skin of your neck between his teeth, biting it, sucking it, leaving a path of destruction in his wake as your skin reddens. There will be bruises soon.

Not that König will be letting anyone else see them. You’ll be lucky if you’re able to even leave the bedroom, nevermind the house.

That much is apparent to you in how König growls when you move, try to slip your constricted wrists into some position of comfort, making him clamp down on top of you, his thighs gripping your sides, your ribcage a shell in his vice.

“Don’t try anything cute, Engel,” König husks, voice deep and feral. His pupils are pinpricks, unhinged in a most biological manner. And his teeth seem sharper now. Somehow.

“Or I may be forced to try something unorthodox with you.”

The bulge between his legs, one which he presses to the sensitive spot between yours, tells you he’s deadly serious. If his killing smile wasn’t enough.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[girlgenius1111]

one of your girls part 4

part 1 part 2 part 3 alexia x jenni x leila x reader. you take a ride. smut 18+. part of the rush verse @vixwritesagain ... for context: Read Part One here Read Part Two here Read Part Three here Read Part Four here Read Part Five here Read Part Six here Read Part Seven here Read Part Eight here

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Soothing hands were slow to stroke at your skin. When Jenni spoke, it was the quietest you’d ever heard her. A husky, mumbled thing just for you. “Be good. I want to see you come tonight.” 

There was no fight when she untangled herself a second time, though the way her hands lingered on your thighs gave her away. Jenni pressed her lips to your cheek before standing up straight. She was quick to turn, walking to where Alexia was perched on the edge of the bed, blocking your view when she bent down to catch the captain’s lips. 

You looked away immediately. There was something in your gut which made it hard to watch, like you were intruding on something private, intimate. 

Instead, your focus travelled to the corner of the room. Leila met your gaze immediately. Her hand rubbed over her mouth for a moment before she smiled lazily. You watched her focus trail down to your bare chest, then to your legs still hanging off the desk. 

With space, you could breathe again. You took the time, forcing deep breaths to calm your frantic heart. 

By the time Leila looked back up to your face, you had the wherewithal to raise both eyebrows at her. “Okay?” You mouthed. 

Leila’s grin stretched even further. A satisfied nod before her expression turned concerned. “You?” She mouthed back.

It took another second of shaking out your tense limbs, for you to nod and smile back at her. You were half way to pushing off the desk and finding a home on her lap when Jenni spoke. “Lie down, amor. Let her work for you.” 

You glanced back just in time to see how Alexia surged up to catch her girlfriend’s lips again. They broke apart only when Jenni’s grin couldn’t be contained, and Alexia pushed back to make herself comfortable against the pillows. 

Jenni turned slowly, fiddling with the harness at her hips to unclip it. Her eyes met yours as her content expression faded to something far more devious. Jenni didn’t say anything, but the raise of her eyebrow and the tilt of her chin made the instruction clear enough. 

Your legs were like jelly, though you tried to hide just how floaty they felt as you toed your way to the bed.

Alexia lay with both hands behind her head while you hooked a leg over her hips. Though her dark eyes followed your every move, she didn’t react when you steadied yourself on her stomach nor when you reached down to fist her strap. 

The few short strokes you gave it were instinctive, but the tiny groan she tried to swallow made you wonder how she’d react if you took her in your mouth. Driven by your own arousal, you ignored it and pressed her tip against your entrance. 

After taking their cocks for so long, sinking down was easy. The pleased little noise you let out might have been embarrassing but for how it made Alexia’s lips curl into the tiniest of smiles. 

Then the first gentle rock, testing how it felt to ride her. You were vaguely aware of Jenni moving around the room, but paid little mind to her quiet footsteps. 

Alexia’s lips parted, tension finding her brow when you sunk back down and sat against her hips. There was the temptation to grind your clit against her skin, but you knew what she really wanted.

Perhaps your needy whines were theatrical, but your cunt clenched around her strap over and over. You quickly found the angle you liked best, one which shot pleasure up your spine every time you sat down. 

Whatever show you were planning to put on was off the table when it felt so good. Up and down, with your eyes fluttering shut and your fingertips digging into her skin. The sounds you pulled from her weren’t loud - low groans and the occasional grunt - but they set you alight all the same. 

It wasn’t long until you felt her hands curl around your waist, just holding at first, then pushing up to grope your chest. Her fingers pulled at your nipples, making you shiver and tense around her. When her hands returned to your waist, it was to help fuck her cock inside. 

“Yes!” You gasped at the extra power behind the rhythm. 

“She looks so pretty when she rides you, doesn’t she, Ale?” Leila asked, grinning to herself when you turned your head in her direction. Alexia’s fingers tightened, very clearly wanting your attention on her. 

When you looked back down at her, she met your gaze, though with an unusually tense tone. “Do you think about me? When you’ve got Leila's cock inside of you, do you think about me?” 

Shivering, you rolled your eyes at her single-mindedness. Though you should have learned your lesson by now, you couldn’t help yourself. “No.” 

Within a second, the blonde’s hands were gripping onto your hips, stopping your movements completely. 

“No?” She echoed. As soon as you forced your eyes to hers, you were met with a cruel smirk. You tried to ignore her, tried to grind back and forth, but she was too strong. You couldn’t move your lower body even an inch, and just as you were about to give in, Alexia spoke again. “So she is lying to me?” 

Your body froze, your confusion clearly written across your face. 

Alexia grinned like she was happy to elaborate. “Leila is lying when she says you think about me when you come?” 

And it should have been a humiliating revelation, that they’d spoken about you like this. But if it was going to embarrass you, Leila would have never said it. No, she was well aware of how Alexia would bring their conversations up, and your girlfriend knew just what your reaction would be. 

Your whole body seemed to twitch as you fought the urge to push Alexia’s hands off you and take what you wanted. 

“I am not lying. Tell her, bebé.” Leila piped up, sounding as if all her dreams had just come true. 

“Sometimes,” You allowed, your pride only allowing you to say so much, though Alexia’s hands loosened their grip just enough for you to buck pathetically against her.  

“All the time,” Leila corrected. “When I fuck her. When she fucks herself.”

“Am I that good?” Alexia asked arrogantly. 

Swallowing a whine as she stopped you again, you clenched your fists against her taut stomach. In the quiet, you could hear slick sounds behind you, then Jenni’s signature sigh. 

Alexia licked her lips, dark eyes focused on your every move and hair splayed out against white sheets. You shifted a little, catching her gaze trailing down to your breasts before you spoke. “You are… good.” 

Alexia let out a sharp exhale as her focus turned clinical. “You will have to be more specific if you want to come. Did you like taking my fingers, or being on your knees for me?” 

“Alexia, just let me move.” You whined, dragging blunt nails across her forearms.

“No. Dime.”

For a second, you thought Leila might jump in and save you again. Instead, the silence stretched on and on until you broke. “On my knees.”

“Sí? What about it?” 

“All of it.” 

“Todo?” Alexia loosened her grip, stroking over your thighs as they immediately started working you up and down her length. 

“Todo.” Leila sang from the corner as you moaned. “She liked when you made her eat Jenni’s pussy while you fucked her.” 

“And when you played with her ass?” Jenni guessed. You could hear the grin in her breathless tone.

Alexia grinned too, watching you with an unfair amount of control. “Puta,” She purred, letting you find the angle which made you keen, “Show me how much you like my cock.” 

With your hands on her stomach, you bounced. A few gentle bucks first to get used to it, then fast enough to feel the heady pleasure. So thick, so deep every time you sat down. Your unrestrained moans mingled with the springs of the hotel bed, creaking in time with every rock. 

You weren’t sure if it was Alexia’s hands rocking you, or her hips bucking up from the bed. Either way, the feeling of her was more. It was relentless and deep. The longer it went on, the higher your desire to come became. 

“Alexia likes to think about you, too, cari.” Jenni called from behind. “Ever since she had you, you’re all she talks about-” 

“Jenni-” Alexia warned though her eyes never left your chest. 

“-Your pretty pussy on her cock,” The striker continued as if uninterrupted. 

“Jennifer.”

“She likes to think about filling you up and making you scream. Don���t you, Ale?” 

You watched Alexia’s eyes trail down to where you rode. It wasn’t often that Alexia was without something to say, and it was this rarity that gave you a little courage. Without letting yourself think too hard about it, you grabbed Alexia’s hands from where they rested on your hips, and shifted forwards, pinning her to the mattress.

There was barely any time for Alexia to look at you, astonished, before your lips were next to her ear, and you spoke so quietly, the blonde knew only she had heard you. That your words were only for her. 

“Come in my pussy, Ale, I need it,” You whimpered. 

Alexia groaned before it happened. You gasped when she used her overwhelming strength to flip the both of you until her body pressed into yours. 

Another second, then Alexia was moving. Not just moving her hips, not just fucking into you like she had before. Maybe it was different because you knew she was going to make you come this time. Regardless of the reason, it was unrestrained and visceral. It was Alexia, taking what she wanted, and giving you what you wanted at the same time. 

All of her control was wholly abandoned in favour of rutting into you with all of her power, fucking in so deeply, you could feel her in your stomach. All you could do was wrap all four of your limbs around her toned body, try to remember to breathe, and hold on as she worked you both up, steadily higher and higher. Her body stayed close, hips snapping her cock inside and rubbing against your clit deliciously.

“Alexia, god, Ale, ” You couldn’t finish your sentence, overcome with pleasure as your body began to shake. She fucked the neediest sounds from you with every thrust.

“Again,” she hissed.

“Alexia. Ale-” You chanted, willing to do whatever she asked if it meant she wouldn’t stop.  Not now, not when you were so high strung.  “Alexia. Please. Fuck, Alexia.”

“Te sientes tan bien,” Alexia grunted, her lips brushing against your cheek. You couldn’t think about the affection in her voice, or the way you were wrapped around her, only the way it felt. Hot, relentless, and safe. Her arms held you so tightly there was nowhere to move, but why would you want to? Her panting in your ear, the pounding of her hips, the press of her skin. All of it was heaven.

 “I’m so-” You warned, feeling it build low in your stomach. 

“No. Wait. Conmigo.” She cut you off with a low rasp. 

You clung to her, nodding into her neck though you weren’t sure it was even possible to stop it.

“Vas a correr en su coño, Ale?” Jenni wondered. 

You let out a needy whine at her question. 

The midfielder was bucking into you frantically, clearly nearing her own peak. With every thrust, Alexia grew less and less composed. Her lips were parted as she breathed a sharp exhale every time she filled you. The intensity of her gaze bordered on hypnotising, almost distracting from the word she murmured. “Inside?”

“Please,” You moaned, a hand tightening its grip on the back of the blonde’s neck. 

Her cheek pressed to yours, her lips finding your ear. “Tell me.” Alexia demanded. 

“I need you to come inside me,” You whined, “Ale, I’m so close, I’m gonna come.” 

“Let me fill up your pussy first, zorrita.”

“Fuck, Ale. I can’t.” You desperately tried to swallow your own arousal and think of anything beyond how close to the edge you were. 

“Espera.” She commanded breathlessly. 

You whimpered, shaking your head into her neck. The harder she drove, the more certain you were that you couldn’t last a single second longer. 

“It’s okay bebé,” Leila chimed in sweetly. “Come on Ale’s cock. Give her a tight little hole to fill up.” 

You stopped trying to fight it, allowing the stimulation to overtake your body. A few harsh thrusts, then it hit. You writhed under Alexia, back arching, eyes slamming shut as it washed over you. 

“Alexia,” you mewled, your voice barely more than a squeak before you fell silent. The peak was too high. You squeezed her, holding on until it broke hard. Wave after wave after wave flooding every nerve in your body.  

Alexia worked herself furiously towards her own end, finding the rhythm and angle that felt the best and hitting it with every thrust, though it was difficult to move when you clamped down. The knowledge that she was the reason you were in such a state of bliss made her head spin, and it was only a few more seconds of chasing her own orgasm before she shook. 

Alexia’s hips slapped against your skin, meeting the sound of her filthy moans until both became muffled. Her movements inside of you slowed, becoming smaller and smaller until she stopped completely. Then came the comforting weight of her body relaxing into yours. The slight shift of her cock had you keening in sensitivity, letting your legs fall from where they were wrapped around her waist. 

“Shh,” She breathed, hand clumsily gripping onto yours. You weren’t sure whether you were shaking or if Alexia was, but you hauled her in closer all the same, needing to feel every inch of her skin against yours. The room was still, or maybe your head was too clouded to register much else. It could have been seconds or minutes that you and Alexia lay there, unconsciously breathing in sync. 

When your needy sounds had died down, Alexia carefully inched the strap out of you. You managed to withhold your whimper this time, but it escaped only a minute later when Alexia leaned up and away. She rolled onto her back, her body only parting from yours for seconds before she was tugging you back into her side. Your hand trembled where it laced with Alexia’s, your inhales and exhales unsteady against her chest.  

It was comfortable, laying pressed up against Alexia’s warm skin. You didn’t think of much beyond the heat of her and the aftershocks which sporadically shivered through your spine.

The quiet shift of fabric, then a soft hand stroked up and down your back. Given Alexia’s stillness, you knew didn’t belong to the blonde.

Leila didn’t need to say anything before you were rolling away from Alexia and into her waiting arms. She was still dressed, wearing her favourite hoodie that smelled unmistakably like her, all comforting, soft and familiar. You settled against her, inhaling deeply as she ran her fingers through your hair. She was less warm than Alexia’s bare skin, but the stroke of her hands made you shiver for different reasons. You both were jostled as the bed dipped next to you, and though you weren’t looking, you knew that Jenni had not been as gentle as she pulled her girlfriend into her. 

“Ale!” She sang, pressing a few kisses to Alexia’s cheek. You could picture the shy smile on Alexia’s face, yet Leila’s heartbeat in your ear was too soothing. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on anything but her. Peace was something you apparently weren’t allowed, though, as you were shaken gently before you could allow yourself to truly relax. 

“Not yet.” Leila whispered. “You can’t sleep yet. We still have guests.” 

You grumbled, pressing your face further into her chest. A large hand came to rest on the back of your head, fingers tapping at your skull gently at first, then a bit more insistently. You looked up to glare at Alexia, who was grinning smugly at you from her spot reclined in Jenni’s arms. 

“Did I tire you out?” She questioned. 

You rolled your eyes. “No, your girlfriend did.” 

This time though, Alexia didn’t jump to jealousy. “You begged for me. You did not beg for Jenni.” She dismissed, though she visibly tightened the grip Jenni’s long arms had around her. 

“You didn’t,” Jenni agreed, nuzzling into her girlfriend’s neck. “Don’t lie, cari. She is the best. You look so good together.”

The look Alexia tried to hide was the softest you’d seen on her. 

Leila’s fingertips traced patterns over your ribcage. “You are so pretty when you beg.” She sighed dreamily. “So pretty when they fuck you.” 

Alexia hummed her agreement softly, removing her hand from your head with a smirk. The room fell quiet again. You started to recognise the hum of cars outside and the chatter of people in the hallway.

You were just about to turn back into Leila’s chest, company be damned, when Jenni cleared her throat. “Do you all remember my goal? It was a good one, no?”

Alexia reached her hand up, stroking at Jenni’s cheek. “Sí, increíble.” 

The forward waited patiently for a moment, but none of you said anything else. “So is it time for my reward now? For my goal?” 

-----

thank you for coming on this filthy journey with me :) i hope you all enjoyed. <3

[imrllytootiredforthis]

stray kids reaction to pegging for the first time:

a/n: ignore any grammar/spelling mistakes, it isn't proofread and probably won't be😭

and as always, 18+, minors dni

Chan:

Okay first let’s talk about how it was brought up,

you probably have to bring it up first

And his reaction? He’d act all blushy and embarrassed, surprised in an almost comical way

like “I-i mean i gu-guess, only if you wanted too tho...”

“I do want to, but also if your gonna watch that typa porn and don’t want me to see baby, delete the browser history”

lmao💀

He’d also say he wants take it really slow, and i mean really slow

talking about how the first time he just wants you to feel around him there, test out the waters but not penetrate him yet, give him a handjob or whatever as you do that

the next time he wants just your tongue,

the next your finger,

then two fingers,

pretty much working up in size slowly until you actually use a strap

he’s very cautious about the whole thing in the beginning, so worried and nervous that it's gonna hurt/he's not gonna enjoy it/you're not gonna enjoy it

but the second you’re actually doing it, ‘feeling around’ as he had called it, he’s already begging for more

yeah, you’d ended up doing all of the carefully week long process he’d set up, every little step, in a single night

The second your hands are on his hole, lube already warmed on your hand, fingers all slippery-

he’s begging for more, shoving his hips backwards in hopes of enticing you more

gripping the sheets, trying to reach for you, heavy breathing and flushed face,

baby boy wasn't expecting for it to feel this good

practically breathless as he pleads with you to just push your fingers inside him

and when you do, he’s going cross-eyed with pleasure, legs instinctually wrap around your hips, pushing you further into him

He can barely even believe how good it feels and how he hasn’t tried this sooner

don’t even get me started on how he reacts when you find his prostate

he’d probably cum just from that and then start begging you to actually fuck him, whining in a half-dazed mess about how he needs it, needs you, needs more

Felix:

All I can say,

Is that he’d pretend to be SO surprised, pretend he had no idea you were gonna bring this up,

Like he hadn’t been dropping hints and waiting for you to smarten up and decipher them all this time

Kinda gives it away though because when you bring it up he’s nodding eagerly, jumping on you immediately 

Because you made him wait so long for this

You whisper to him, reminding him that you still need to actually buy the strap

No you don’t.

Surprise, surprise, baby boy’s been ready for this for a long time 

He’s had one stashed under your bed in a pretty box with a perfect little red bow for practically forever

(Used for lonely nights on his own and dirty fantasies for a little angel such as himself)

Now he’s obviously used it on himself many times before this, experimenting and dreaming and wishing you’d walk in on him

But it’s nothing compared to when you do it

It feels so much better when you do it

He can’t even contain himself, practically shrieking in pleasure

I’d actually advise you to gag him at that point, he’d look pretty with a ball gag but the way his eyes roll back if you shove your underwear in his mouth is delectably sinful 

His nails claw into your back, legs hooking up and around your hips, already drooling from the first thrust

Is obsessed with missionary or the mating press, pretty much any position where you’re face to face and he can see you

Not that he’s doing much seeing with his eyes rolled back

I can’t stop thinking about if you’re wearing a necklace or something, with a charm or whatever tf it’s called

(searched it up and it’s a pendant)

He’d watch it, swaying in front of his face, swinging with every harsh thrust and then he can’t help himself but to lean up and wrap his pretty, soft lips around it

By the end he’s a mess, ruined beyond belief 

practically dumb as you try to clean him all up, shivering in sensitivity while also begging for more

baby's got an overstimulation kink 100% and that obvious translates to wanting you to fuck him absolutely dumb, making him cum over and over again until he has nothing left to give, a babbling dumb pretty mess<3

and afterwards,

you’re wondering if it was really worth it playing dumb for so long, pretending you didn’t notice his obvious hinting at everything

Hyunjin:

Baby boy just wants to be filled up, just wants to fucked hard and fast until he’s an incoherent mess

And then he wants you to take pictures of him all ruined 

wants you add more photos into the albums in your phone

add to all those compromising photos of hyunjin in a plethora of different positions, with different toys and ropes and you name it, add some more of him sucking on a strap or getting pounded

wants you to send him videos that he doesn't even remember filming, getting ruined with a little message under it saying

'you look so cute<3'

But it’s a fantasy

Only a fantasy

A fantasy that he only lets himself indulge in when he’s alone and pent-up and can’t help but pull out the lube and finger himself

Wishing it was your fingers, wishing it was bigger, wishing that it was more

That you were whispering in his ear, talking to him about how pretty he looked under you

Falling so deep that he can almost believe that’s it’s real

feeling so high off of how good it feels, unable to hold back the noises coming out high and needy as he shoves a pillow under his hips, humping it all the while he continues to scissor his long fingers in his ass

He so, so loud, calling your name, begging for you to go faster-harder

you’re out, you’re not around and no one else is he's allowed to be this loud

But, you are in fact not out, you came back because you forgot something or other and you walk in on this sight

Jesus fuck,

He makes a shocked sound, scared out of him mind when he finally sees you, freaking out and covering himself with the covers,

Beginning to cry quickly from the already emotionally-vulnerable moment he was having

You soothe him, rubbing a hand over his sweat-soaked back, hushing his tears,

And then pull out the strap you’d been specifically saving for this occasion 

He’s gonna go wild,

Seems to lose all composure the second you’re inside of him, his brain completely melting,

Not a single coherent thought in there for the time being

Just filthy little noises for more, for harder, for faster, he cannot get enough

And then when he’s almost about to come he starts to cry, long arms pulling you into him,

Burying his face into your throat, whimpering for you to please, please, please breed him in the neediest, littlest voice e v e r

Minho:

Lee Minho

The Lee Minho, wanting to be fucked like a little bitch?

Those where actually his exact words when you found the dildo he’d hidden in your closet,

It sure wasn’t yours, you think you’d know if it was🤨

So who’s could it be?

Other than the only other person living in your house, the only other one that would know to hide their shit in your closet, under the mountain of clothing there

But it was a cleaning day

So you decided to go through it

And found it

Not your’s, but it’s in your stuff

“Minho! Is this yours?”

Stares at it for a solid ten seconds, you can almost see the gears turning in his head, almost hear the bullshit excuse he’s coming up with and is gonna use in approximately 5 seconds if you don’t shut him up quickly

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

That renders him speechless

“….😦”, “no?🥴w-what? What even made you come up with that idea?🙄”

“😐...really?”

“Please do.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

He’d try so hard to not be vocal, biting down on his lips, covering his mouth with his arm, clutching a pillow to his face

You remove each one, one after another until finally, finally you get to hear his cute noises

His little mewls and moans that follow right after

His quiet keens and grunted out groans

He loves hates it when you comment on them, cooing about how cute he sounds while you rub your hand tantalizingly over his inner thighs

In fact, just touching his thighs might be enough to make him cum alone

but that’s something to explore another day

You gotta be careful too

Because there is absolutely no way that he doesn’t scratch or bite

Starts off with his lips latched on your collarbone in an effort to not scream, his hands holding onto your shoulders for support, his body reacting with every rough thrust

And it ends off with his bunny teeth digging into your skin so hard that suddenly iron taste fills his mouth, his nails dragging down your back so hard that the flesh tears 

Aftercare consists of him sitting behind you, disinfecting and bandaging up the shallow cuts and scrapes down your back, neck and collarbone

But you don’t mind in the moment

Probably because you, like anyone, can’t help but he entranced by the man under you

Begging to be marked, to be fucked harder, to be yours

Only yours.

When you hit his prostate all he can let out is a strangled noise set between a keen and a cry, struggling to keep his grip on reality as you repeatedly ram into it him over and over,

“Good kitty.”

And then he’s cumming all over his chest, untouched 

Seungmin:

“No.”

That’s it when you ask him

Straight up no, end of conversation, that’s all, goodbye

“…Okay, can I ask why?”

Doesn’t answer you, refuses to talk about the subject, simply not talking when you ask him

But one day he gets curious, not in a horny way or anything, just wondering why you keep bringing it up

Queue pulling up a very nsfw website and searching up pegging

He scrolls through a couple of videos before settling on one

Through the entirety of the 12 minute video all he can imagine is himself as the squirming, moaning man being fucked

and you as the person standing above him, taunting him, asking him if he likes this, likes being fucked like this

The session ends with him in the shower, fingers exploring new places that he had no idea could bring him such pleasure

And as soon as he’s done he’s groaning, cursing himself for not agreeing earlier

Because how the hell is he supposed to bring this up to you?

He can’t find the words, find the way to tell you,

So he doesn’t use words

And you come home one night, calling out for your puppy to come on out, asking him where he is

The only reply you receive is a small “here!” from your bedroom

And fuck, good thing that boy is pretty because he does not need words

Dressed up in some pretty black lacy panties and a sheer robe that you’re pretty sure you bought awhile ago before it disappeared mysteriously 

He sits up against the headboard, watching you with lustful eyes 

And there, beside him on the bed is a dildo he ordered, the harness for it already attached

You look at it before back at him as he slides down the bed, right in front of you and lays back, spreading his legs

“Fuck me?”

And how can you say no?

He finds out fairly quickly that he REALLY loves it

And also REALLY loves doggy

Jisung:

He brought it up very, very soon

Like, probably on your first date he’s already telling you he likes to be fucked in the ass 

or simply just straight up asking you to do it, pulling out a strap from the bag he brought

Promising you it’s clean

And asking if you wanna go to the bathroom

Baby boy is shameless

He’s watched tons of porn, fantasized about being the whining, whimpering boys tied up with a hot dom fucking the absolute shit out of them until they’re incoherent

He’s asked other people to do it to him too

They’ve all said no☹️

And then he finds you,

You who is very open to the idea, at least halfway tempted by the bathroom idea and the other half thinking that there is so many classier ways to go about it

So you say no

And he pouts 

But when you bring home that night and praise and degrade him to the point of tears

Well, he supposes he can be patient

He asks you at least once every day, hoping for the time you finally say yes

But you smirk every time, pulling him close and making him shiver before whispering “no.” in his ear

You say it so many times that the one time he asks and you finally say yes it takes him a second to actually comprehend it

To comprehend that what came out of your mouth wasn’t a no

And when you finally do it you’re gonna bet that he’s loud

Like really fucking loud

Gotta-gag-him-or-the-neighbours-will-file-noise-complaints kinda loud

His voice gets so high too, hitting all them high notes🤭

He’d wanna be as close as physically possible, wrapping his arms around your neck, his legs hooked around your waist, pulling your entire body weight onto him

It makes it a lot harder for you to thrust into him but the way he has such easy access to your neck and ears

Whispering the nastiest shit in the entire history of the world

Boy’s got a mouth on him from all that dirty talk in porn

And he does it all while breathlessly nipping at your neck, squeaking when you hit that sensitive spot inside of him

He’d have the cutest fucked out face

Eyes crossed, drool dripping down his chin, tears spilling over his flushed cheeks

But you’d literally have to wrestle to let him to let go of you so you can see him

Little hiccups and gasps are all he can make out as you coo to him about how adorable he looks

All fucked out and ruined by you

If you wipe up his cum and feed it back to him you could probably get him to cum a second time completely untouched

Baby boy’s never gonna wanna do anything else ever again, 

Completely cock drunk and completely obsessed

Changbin:

He seems like he’d bring it up,

Extremely shy all the while, muttering something under his breath that you can’t hear

“Pardon baby, what’d you say?

Poor binnie, he’s be all blushy and nervous

*clears his throat* “u-um, could you maybe…peg me?”

HES SO FUCKING ADORABLE😭😭

Anyway,

You’d obviously agree because why would you actually ever say no?

You’d quickly order all the things you’d need and the day they arrive he just happened to not be home

Leaving you the perfect chance to surprise your baby

He’d come in, all tired from the gym and needy, just wanting to let you take care of him

He comes in and all the lights are off, he furrows his brows, setting his bag down and calling out your name about to start flicking the lights on,

When he sees candlelight coming from down the hall

He follows it am the way to the bedroom where the entire room is lit by candles,

And then there you are, lying on the bed, looking up at him

“Welcome home binnie,”

He's confused but you pull him into a kiss and he can’t seem to think of anything other than you as your fingers skim over his body, feeling over the bulge in his pants, your tongue slipping into his mouth

He’s panting by the time you pull away

“I gotta little gift for you…well maybe not so little.”

He practically gapes as you pull it from out of a box he failed to miss on the bed behind you

You rub his hand soothingly, gauging his reaction “if you don’t want to do it anymore that’s fine, you can always chan-“

“-I want it.”

You smile and spin your positions so now he’s the one with the bed behind him

And then you shove him down

“Just tell me if you ever wanna stop baby, I won’t be mad, I promise.”

Fuck him hard and rough

Manhandle him, switching his positions every so often,

He obviously likes missionary and you get the perfect view of his eyes rolling back

Doggy is fun, he gets so much more vocal because of how much deeper you can hit inside of him, but you don’t get to see him

I recommend next time placing him in front of a mirror, not only so you can see how pretty he looks when he’s drooling but also so he can too

gets more ruined from seeing how own reflection

Riding is one of your favourites, watching the poor thing moan, trying to go faster, rougher, hit that one place inside of him but he just needs you to do it

Letting him beg and try and get oh-so desperate before he starts to cry, pleading for you to just fuck him

FUCKING HIM AGAISNT THE WALL

HDJDDGJSKDHHD

MANHANDLING HIM UP AGAINST IT, MAKING HIM FEEL SO SMALL AND BLUSH

BEFORE ABSOLUTELY RUINING HIM

*ahem*

Sorry, that was a bit overboard

I also have a fantasy abt pegging him at the gym but that’s also conversation for another time

IN:

Okay, but I really wanna corrupt him…

Innocent little innie, you have to teach him everything, show him how to make you feel good

Every time you introduce something new to him he’s like “😧people do that??”

And so one day when you pull out a strap, asking him if you can peg him,

well baby boy is completely clueless

But he remembers how good you’ve made him feel, pleasure he didn’t even know the human body was capable of feeling

He agrees with little to no convincing 

Ready for whatever you have in plan for him, ready to be swallowed whole by all that is you and everything you make him feel

Sweet doe eyes looking up at you, glassy with sensitivity, wide with wanting

He’d never imagine that he could feel so good filled up

Never thought your fingers scissoring inside him, stretching him open and preparing him for your strap could feel so mind-achingly good

Enough to make his glossy eyes fall shut, for his hands to grip onto the fabric of your shirt, mouth open with small breathy whines filling the room

God, when you press your fingers against his prostate he swears he can see stars bursting across his vision

He can barely think, barely let out the keen that reverberates through his throat, barely breathe

It feels so, so good and he can feel himself melting

But that’s just with your fingers

Once you’ve deemed him prepared enough you pull out, smirk curling at your lips at the whimper he lets out in protest

That quickly shifts into a gasp when you push into him

Goodness fuck, sweet little innie, voice small and shaking,

Hoarse and cracking

“…please~”

Switching positions so he sits in your lap while you lean against the headboard of the bed

Watching his little pants and flushed cheeks,

Drool leaking from the corner of his mouth as he tries his very best not to go completely and utterly insane with how good it feels,

And how much deeper it goes in this new position

Every little shift and movement pressing the head against that sensitive spot inside of him

He’s so needy and desperate he rides you hard and fast, whining when even then it’s not enough, clinging to you like a lifeline

You watch with a bated breath, eyeing each time he moves up, 

Unable to tear your attention yo where he teases you and himself, pulling up so just the tip is inside of him before sinking down just as quick, moaning all the while he’s stretched out again, the entire length sliding inside him with ease

Gasping in frustration as his thighs begin to burn and cramp from exertion

Whining as he paws at you, burying his face into your neck, muttering with a shaky whisper to please fuck him

Your hands tease over his body, ghosting over his hips, feeling him quiver on top of you

Before you finally give in

He practically screams when you flip him over again, starting up a hammering pace that he can barely keep up with

All he can do is mewl and whimper, clutching the sheets and letting his eyes roll into the back of his head

“Good baby, doing so good, just keep doing that.”

That’s his breaking point

Looking at him all fucked out and adorable

You can only groan and kiss his messy lips, red from being bitten, shiny with saliva

And think this was all because of you

a/n: btw, if anyone wants to send me in requests for mtl, reactions or hcs i'd love to do them-they're just sm fun to write!

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : idol!Lee Minho x F!Reader TW : pregnancy ; unplanned pregnancy ; Minho is a jerk ; general angst ; fluffy ending ; Word Count : 6.3k Request : AHHH THANK YOU!! im happy that you like my request🥺🥺🥺🤍 hm bang chan would be good! he’s my bias after all HAHHAH buttt honestly speaking, i’d more than love to read about seungmin’s, minho’s or felix’s too <3 take your time!! A/N : the Minho gif came from this blog!!

Late… You were rarely ever late. You always kept track to make sure that you were on time and this month was no different. The little alerts had gone off from your calendar, and it’s not like you were under a lot of stress or anything that would cause any shifts… You were just… Late. 

The first day hadn’t exactly bothered you as much, the second day began to worry you, but now you were a week in and you still hadn’t gotten it and you were starting to panic… At least to yourself. Your boyfriend, who was usually just as on top of your monthly cycle as you were, was busy with his own schedule, making sure that he was prepared for the group's next big comeback. He didn’t have time to worry about something like this… That’s why you did your best to keep your panicking to a minimum when he was around. It’s not like you knew for certain anyway… Not yet at least. 

“Going to the store… Need anything?” You asked from the doorway, already slipping your shoes on. He was sitting on the couch, he looked so comfortable, you didn’t want to bother him by even letting him know where you were going, but you also knew that if you left without a word it would worry him. 

He looked up, running his hands through his hair as he let out a small yawn before shaking his head no. “You want me to go with you? You know that I don’t like you carrying a bunch of bags in by yourself, especially if I’m literally right here to help you do it.” He was already starting to get up off the couch, but you held your hands out, waving them at him before motioning for him to sit back down. 

“Lady things… I have to get lady things. That’s all. Just one bag.” You held up one finger, and he slowly sunk back into the couch, watching you grab the keys off the hook. He was clearly questioning you, the way you reacted, his eyebrows lowered and his eyes narrowed as he stared, and you didn’t want him to think too hard about it so you quickly ran over to him and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you, I’ll be back soon.” 

He hummed against your lips, and you felt the corners of his pull up before you pulled back, his hands firmly grasping your waist. “Love you too, babe… Be careful. Call me if you need anything… Okay?” You nodded in agreement before backing up and going back to the entryway, going back to putting on your shoes before going out the front door and taking a deep breath. You had dodged a bullet there… But there was a bigger one coming, the size of a missile, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to dodge it now. 

You sat on the edge of the bathtub, the tests lined up along the back of the toilet, all of them face down. Thankfully Minho had been called into work at the last minute, and while he had been grumpy about it, you promised him dinner when he got back home and that had made him calm down enough to not question why you were trying so hard to get to the bathroom so quickly. 

The five minutes that it said it would take on the box felt more like 30 as you watched the timer on your phone slowly countdown. Your legs were bouncing nervously and you tried to focus on literally anything but your phone and the little white sticks that would inevitably decide your future. You couldn’t be pregnant… Right? Of course, there was always the chance… And it’s not like you and Minho had used protection the last couple times that you did it. Not that the both of you were trying… But with his busy schedule, the last thing that the two of you thought of was making sure to keep things like this happening. Whenever you had the chance to be together, you both were going at it… And that’s why you were sitting where you were at right now, chewing nervously on your fingernails as the timer on your phone got to 3… 2…1…

You stopped the alarm before it could go off and flipped the sticks over. Your breath had been held the entire time, and once the sticks were turned, it felt like you were going to be sick. Bright pink double lines seemed to be staring up at you, perfectly contrasted by the bright white of the stick. This wasn’t what you wanted to see, it wasn’t what you wanted at all, at least not right now… But here it was… The answer to your question as clear as a neon sign in your shaky hands. 

Even with the tests, it took you another five minutes after staring at them to really comprehend what was going on, to truly let it set in that this was not a dream and you truly were pregnant. It’s crazy though how, you had always wanted children, it’s not like the thought of being pregnant was inherently bad for you, it’s just the fact that it was so unplanned and you weren’t sure how Minho would take it. He had never said anything against you having his children, he even seemed to get slightly excited when the prospect of it was brought up… Why were you worried? The both of you knew that you were each other’s person, there was no one else that either of you could see each other even tolerating. He’d be fine… Maybe a little bit shocked at first, but fine at the end of it all. 

The front door clicked with the undoing of the lock and then the sound of keys jingling as he pulled them from the keyhole and pushed the door open, the entire time your head had been perked up to watch him come in. 

Dinner had been prepared, the table set, the pot on the stove set to a low simmer just to keep the food hot when he came in. You wanted everything to be perfect for him, his mood would… should be just right for when you delivered the news. “Dinner smells amazing, darling.” He commented from the front landing, pulling his shoes off before falling down onto the couch beside you and immediately pulling you close to him. “Have you eaten yet?” He murmured as he hugged you tight against him, his face buried in your hair. 

“Mnn nn…” You mumbled out your answer against his chest, pulling back enough to look at him. His eyes had bags underneath, he looked tired, but other than that he seemed happy, he looked happy. “Do you want to go eat now?” You chirped, the nerves kicking in now, knowing that if you followed your own plan, you’d be telling him very soon. 

“Yes please.” He practically groaned, his head falling back before his arm was pulled away from you and he got up off the couch, grabbing your hands and pulling you to your feet as well and then ushering you to the kitchen. “So what did you do today? Looks like you cleaned a lot… You didn’t have to do that. I like cleaning with you.” He pulled his chair out and sunk down into it as you transferred the pot from the stove to the middle of the table. 

“You were called in so randomly, I didn’t want you to have to worry about anything else when you came home…” You gave him a small smile as you sat across from him, moving the spoon in his direction so he could eat first. “Did they work you too hard today?” 

He snorted softly as he lifted the spoon, filling his bowl with the soup before looking up at you. “As hard as they usually do, yup.” He commented through his chuckles as he took a bite, his eyes closing and a muted moan coming through his closed lips as he chewed. “You must’ve worked yourself very hard today, this soup is amazing.” 

You sighed softly, your cheeks rising slightly with a smile as you thanked him quietly. “I have uhm…” Your heart was beating so loud, but you knew that you had to tell him, this wasn’t something that you could just hide from him until the baby came out in 9 months. “I have news… to tell you…” 

His eyes lifted from his bowl, his chopsticks pausing just outside his mouth as he stared at you. “What is it? Are you gonna come to the comeback show?” He asked, and you nodded in agreement to his question although that wasn’t the news that you were going to tell him, but you had been planning on going. “Perfect. I’ll do way better with you there, darling.” 

“I have… more news to tell you.” You whispered, dropping your hands from the table to nervously rub your thighs, your palms becoming sweaty just from the buildup to this. His eyes were bright as he looked at you expectantly, waiting for the news to leave your lips. “I’m… I’m pregnant.” You breathed out the words, your heart frozen as you waited for his reaction. 

He blinked once… twice… the sparkle in his eyes fading every time they closed and reopened, his smile slowly dropping until his lips were set in a straight line. “Okay… And?” The reaction was… definitely not what you had expected. You didn’t even know how he was feeling, his words, his face, it gave you no answer. 

“I just… wanted to let you know…” You murmured, dropping your eyes back down to your soup bowl and finally taking the first bite. He was still looking at you, you could feel it even, and then he let out a sigh, his chopsticks hitting the edge of the bowl had you slowly glancing up at him. 

“Picked a really good time to tell me… I have so much going on already and now I have to worry about this.” He grumbled and your eyes wavered as you tried to process what he was saying, what he was talking about. It’s not like he was the one carrying the baby, there wasn’t even anything that he had to do right now. 

“Just… pretend I didn’t tell you…” You looked back down into your bowl, stirring the vegetables as you shook your head. “I’m sorry… I should have waited until after the comeback.” 

He ran his hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair. “My entire life is busy, Y/N. I don’t have time for a kid, I don’t have time to worry about this.” He motioned to you, but his hands were slightly lower and you knew that he was talking about the baby. “I won’t be able to sleep, I’ll… I mean… What the fuck.” 

Now you were blinking blankly at him, your heart frozen in the deepest pit of your stomach. “Wh-What do you want me to do? I’m… I’d wake up with the baby… I’d take care of it… I don’t… I don’t know what you want me to do. I thought…” Your breathing was becoming heavier and you shivered under his intense gaze. 

“We’re not married… hell, we’re not even engaged yet! What will the company think? Do you know what they’d do to me? They could kick me out of the group! And my family… Oh my god. I already have three cats to take care of and… I can’t do this.” He pushed away from the table, going straight to the door, not even putting his shoes on, just picking them up off the floor and heading out the door like he couldn’t wait to be away from you, leaving you at the table gasping for breaths as tears streamed down your face. 

Minho had gone to the dorms, going to his only hyung for advice on what to do. Of course, Chan was more level headed then any of the other guys would be, he saw things from every direction, every perspective, and after listening to his advice for over two hours, Minho knew he had made a mistake. He had been with you for two years, not on and off, a straight two years, he was absolutely head over heels for you. It’s not even like he didn’t want children, he did, and he wanted them with you. Having it all laid out for him like that, it really opened his eyes. 

Two days, he only stayed at the dorms for two days and one night, giving you the time he assumed you’d need to calm down because he was sure that you’d be angry at him. He couldn’t even imagine how you must’ve felt and he’s been kicking himself over it every hour, every second of every day. He had tried to text you, just to check up on you to see how you were doing, but you didn’t respond. He understood. He had tried to call you at night, he listened to each ring until it finally went to voicemail, and that too, he understood. You didn’t want to talk to him… He’d just have to suck it up and deal with it. 

Street lights illuminated the road as he drove back home, and he was sure there wouldn’t be dinner waiting for him like there was the night that he had left. Of course, he shouldn’t be expecting it, he shouldn’t be expecting anything of you after what he had said. He was expecting you to still be there though, that was the one thing he hadn’t been prepared for. The house completely empty of your physical presence, yet the pictures still hang on the walls. You had been there, but you were gone now. A thorough search of the house only proved what he already knew. 

His phone was immediately pulled out, texting you again to ask where you were, and when a response didn’t come in within five seconds, he was calling you and leaving messages until your voicemail box was full. Were you doing the same thing he did? Maybe you were just going to be gone for a day or two and then you’d be back. He sent one more text. “Darling, I’m home. I know you’re upset, but I want to talk to you. I’ll wait for you.” 

And wait he did, for a day, then two, then a week… Then a month, then two, then three… You weren’t coming back. He had called your parents and they had told him that you weren’t there, although he was sure they were just lying for you considering they didn’t sound worried. They were covering for you, you didn’t want to see him. That didn’t stop him from going over to your parents house to try to see you though. Every time he did, the door would be cracked open, just enough for someone, anyone but you to peek out and tell him that you weren’t there. 

He was getting pissed, especially during the one trip he made during the winter, six months after you had left without even a single word spoken to him since, your snow boots clearly sitting on the front porch. “Just let me fucking see her! I know she’s here!” He shouted, slamming his fists against the door to try to push it open, but your father pushed against him and swiftly locked it, leaving Minho a frustrated crying mess on the porch. 

The worst part was not knowing what was going on, not knowing how you were doing, not knowing how the baby was doing. Were you still even pregnant? He hated not knowing, but the worst part was that the one thing he did know was that it was his fault that all of this was happening. 

He became absolutely ruthless during practice, laying into anyone that messed up a routine, yelling if someone simply even misstepped. He couldn’t help it, it felt like he was in shambles, his entire life was falling apart. He was going to be a dad, that much he knew, but he didn’t know anything else and that made him feel worse. 

“You need to calm down.” Bangchan said as Minho stood off to the side, breathing heavily after practicing as hard as he could, the only thing that kept his mind off of you. “Have you tried calling around the OB’s? Maybe they’ll tell you which one she’s at and you can meet her there.” 

“That’s fucking stupid.” Minho muttered, running a hand through his sweat drenched hair. “They’re not going to give me that information, you know that. She doesn’t want to see me anyway… I’m gonna have a kid in a month… if it’s not already here yet… And I don’t know anything about it.” He was huffing, it almost sounded like he was hyperventilating. “Just leave me alone… I want to be alone.” 

“You’re being hard headed. Have you tried to talk to her at all?” Bangchan foolishly questioned, and Minho whipped his head in the leader's direction, his jaw set and his fists clenched at his sides. 

“The fuck kind of question is that?! Of course I’ve tried to talk to her! I’ve almost had the cops called on me at her parents house because I tried to get in. I’ve tried everything!” He shouted, pushing against Chan to try to get him to the door. “Leave me the fuck alone. I want to be alone.” 

There was nothing else that Chan could say as he was literally being shoved out of the room. He knew this couldn’t go on any longer though. Minho could barely even sing, they were in the process of recording a new album and it seemed like he would read into the lyrics of every single song and find a way to attribute them to you. He’d start crying and having to take breaks, but his dances were almost violent… He was becoming violent. 

You sat in the rocking chair in the nursery that had been set up in the guest room at your parents house, looking over the ultrasound pictures of your daughter that was bound to come out any day now. Your parents were out right now, both of them working while you were on your break from working at home. It was one of the many perks of your job. When you had gotten further along in your pregnancy your boss told you to just stay home, allowing you to take your work laptop home with you. 

Just as you were about to head back into your room/office to get back to work, the doorbell rang. The last person you thought it would be was Minho, he hadn’t tried to see you since December and it was February now. It had been almost 2 months since you’ve heard his voice shouting from the other side of the front door. That’s why you got up as fast as you could, waddling your way down the stairs and pulling the door open. 

“Jisung?” You said, although it was more of a question as you stared at the sheepish man on your porch. “What are you doing here?” You looked around, checking to see if Minho was there as well, but Jisung shook his head as if he could tell what you were thinking. 

“He’s not here. It’s just me.” He said, and then you felt his eyes scan over you, slightly bulging when they landed on your stomach. “You uh… You’re like… Pregnant pregnant. When are you due?” 

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the door and shaking your head at his question. “Why are you here? Seriously… I don’t need you to be Minhos minion. He chose this, he left, he didn’t want her so he doesn’t get me.” Jisungs lips parted into a small ‘o’ and you mentally cursed yourself for letting that small piece of information loose. 

“It’s a girl? Wow… a niece…” He whispered, but he let out a small sigh. “I’m not here for Minho. I’m here because of Minho. He’s being an ass, he’s actually scary. Not even I can calm him down, and he went off on Chan yesterday.” He seemed so nervous being there and, after 2 years of being with Minho, you knew the rest of the guys just as well as you knew your boyfriend. Jisung surely wasn’t enjoying this, and you felt bad for him. He had come here on his own to try to talk to you, to save the rest of the guys from Minhos rage. 

You stepped back from the door, letting him through and showing him to the living room. “Let me just tell my boss that something came up…” You sighed, waiting for him to sit down before waddling into the kitchen and texting your boss. Out of all the guys, you knew Jisung the most, you had hung out with him and Minho the most, you were closer to him than any of the other guys and that’s why you felt a little less uncomfortable with him being here. “Do you need anything to drink? Water? Tea?” You called from the kitchen and he shouted out a ‘no’, but you still grabbed two cups and filled them with water before returning. “What’s he been doing?” You asked, letting out a little grunt as you lowered yourself down into the chair. 

Jisungs hands moved out as if to help you, and you shook your head, letting out a little giggle once you were settled in. “He’s… He’s vicious. He yells at everyone and he’s so short fused… It’s scary. He’s scary.” His hands slid over his face before his palms slapped against his lap. “He misses you and he’s angry with himself and he’s taking it out on everyone else. We don’t know what to do… just… Can you talk to him? Please?” 

You knew that this was coming, you knew the request was going to come, but you didn’t know things were this bad for them. You felt awful, and it’s not like it was directly your fault, but you were the only one that could fix things. “Fine…” You relented, taking a deep breath before holding your hand out. “Let me use your phone, I left mine in the kitchen.” Jisung nodded, about to get up from the couch, but you shook your head. “No… I want to use your phone. I don’t want him to know my number.” You pushed your palm out further and Jisung looked a little dumbfounded at your persistence but let it go, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing Minhos number. 

“He’s her father… What if he wants to keep in touch with you to know about how she’s doing?” Jisung asked quietly as the phone rang. It was put on speaker phone in the center of the table so that you both could talk and you both could listen. “I think you should let him have your number.” 

“He said he was too busy for this life, again, it was his choice and I’m just following through with it. I’m doing him a favor.” You hissed, not wanting him to hear you immediately just in case he did answer. “He can’t just say what he said and then decide later that he messed up.” 

“It wasn’t decided later though, it only took two days for him to come back and realize he screwed up. You were already gone.” Jisung retorted and your mouth snapped shut as you leaned back further on the couch, your arms wrapping around your stomach to cradle it. 

“You don’t understand what it felt like… for him to just decide that he didn’t want this and walk out… that hurt, Jisung. He put the company and the group first, and fine… he knew you guys longer… I get that… But this is a child and it’s my child… and I’m gonna protect her.” You whispered, a soft sigh flowing through your nose as you looked at the phone that was still ringing in the middle of the coffee table. “He’s not answering. This was pointless. I think you should go now.” 

“For fucks sake, I thought you’d give up if I didn’t answer on the first three rings.” Minhos voice rang through the speaker and the sound of it had your heart stopping. He sounded so… angry. You had never heard him sound like that before. “What do you want? Make it fast, I’m busy.” 

Jisung looked at you but you shook your head, motioning for him to talk first and he rolled his eyes, leaning forward to be closer to the mic. “I’m uh… I’m over…” He looked to you and you shook your head faster, your eyes wide, knowing that if Jisung said it right now the call would end and Minho would be racing over. “How are you feeling right now? I was wondering if you wanted to go meet up for coffee or something?” 

Minho scoffed loudly and you heard the light shuffle of his feet and heavy breaths, he must’ve been practicing again. “How am I feeling? Like shit, Jisung! I don’t know what’s going on, I don’t know what she’s doing, I don’t know anything about the baby. Does she still… Is she still pregnant? Did she have the baby? Did she have to do it by herself? I don’t know shit and I’m losing my fucking mind. So no, I don’t want to meet up for coffee, I don’t want to do anything.” 

Jisungs teeth gritted together nervously as he stared at you, but you were silent, your eyes staring down at the little waves that moved in your stomach from your daughter kicking. “She didn’t have her yet…” Jisung murmured, and your eyes widened as they shot up to look at him. “What? What am I supposed to say?! You won’t say anything!” He practically shouted at you and you felt your chest tighten as angry tears threatened to fall. 

“What am I supposed to say!? I haven’t talked to him in 8 fucking months!” You shouted back, your face falling into your hands as you took a deep breath. You heard nothing from Minhos end though, an incredible silence coming through the speakers before he cleared his throat. 

“Are you… there? You’re with her? Is that Y/N?” Minho stammered, and then you could hear a gust of wind as if he were running, and you knew that if he was, he’d probably be at your front door in an hour or less. “When… Why are you there?! What are you doing there?! Why are you with her?!” 

You rolled your eyes at his screaming and Jisung threw his hands up in disbelief, letting his head fall against the back cushions of the couch. “Because you’ve been an asshole and they came to me hoping that I could cure you of that.” You answered and you heard Jisung snicker to himself at your response. “What crawled up your ass? Why are you taking it out on them?” 

“I…” Minho started and you heard a car door open and then slam shut as the engine roared to life. “Well wouldn’t you be pissed if you had a baby and you haven’t gotten to see a picture and ultrasound… I haven’t heard a heartbeat or anything! I’m pissed!” You heard the phone hit the steering wheel as his car peeled out of the parking spot. 

“Don’t hold your phone and drive, idiot!” You scolded and as if on command you heard the phone get thrown onto the passenger seat. You huffed loudly before speaking. “You walked out on me, you chose your job. I wasn’t going to force you to be a parent when you clearly weren’t ready to be one.” You explained, and you heard him groan loudly through the speaker. 

“I was gone for two days! You were gone when I came back! You’ve been gone for 8 fucking months!” He screeched, and then you heard him slam on the brakes as horns went off all around him. Your heart stopped momentarily before he started ranting out curses at whoever had messed up on the road. “I thought we’d be able to talk about things but no! You went to your parents house and had them lie to me! I almost had the cops called on me just to see you!” 

You quickly covered your mouth to stifle your laughter, remembering the look of shock on his face as you watched from the top window. “Well you tried to punch through the door! You scared my dad!” You said between giggles, and even Jisung started to chuckle now. 

“It’s not funny! Do you know how many restraining orders I would have broken to see you and the baby?!” He screeched, but even he seemed to be calming down, the lengthy breath he let out shook with silent laughter. “So how are you feeling?” 

The sudden shift in tone had you pursing your lips, hating to admit to yourself that you missed him. You missed the goofy bickering, the way he cared about you, the way he’d look at you as if you were the only woman in the entire universe. “I’m feeling- What the hell?” The line went dead before you had the chance to finish, and you knew how Minho drove when he was in a hurry, your heart lurched into your throat as you moved to get up off the couch. “H-Help me up…” You reached out your hand to Jisung who began to panic when he saw you. 

It’s not like you knew the first thing that you were going to do, but you were gonna go out on the road to look for him, to make sure he was okay. “Yeah… Yeah I’ll get your shoes just… Hold up…” Jisung stammered, looking around the room cluelessly until you pointed to the little cupboard box near the entryway and he rushed over, grabbing the first pair of shoes he saw. 

The click of the front doorknob turning had you immediately defending yourself and Jisungs presence. “It’s okay dad… I’m gonna be back soon. I have to go find Minho… I think… I’m worried about him and I still love him and I want him to be a part of her life…” You explained breathlessly as you tied your shoes before sitting up once more and turning to look at the door. 

There Minho stood, his eyes squinted with the cockiest smile as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Never heard you call me dad before… I don’t know if I like it or not yet.” He teased, toeing his shoes off next to the door before walking over to where you sat. “I’m glad you still love me though, woulda been weird to have to take you on all the first dates over again with the baby in the stroller.” The teasing tone was gone when his attention turned to Jisung who was sitting on the floor next, having helped you put your shoes on. “Did you really come here just to tell her I’ve been an asshole?” 

“Uhm… Yeah? Because you were being a really big asshole. Needed that shit to stop, so I went to the only person who would be able to stop it.” He motioned towards you with both of his hands, the usual Jisung smile on his face as he did. “And aren’t you happy? I mean, if I didn’t come here you probably would still be trying to get past her parents and you would have missed the birth of your daughter. So, I feel like you should be thanking me. And even if you won’t say it out loud… You’re welcome.” He pushed himself up off the floor, patting your head before walking over to the door and letting himself out. “I feel like you two have a lot of catching up to do, so I will be leaving. See you later!” 

Now that Jisung was gone, it felt like the comedic relief that the two of you needed had left as well, leaving an awkward film lingering in the air as you and Minho stared at each other. “You uh… you look like you’re really close. How much longer?” He asked nervously now, lowering down onto the arm of the couch to get a better view of you and your stomach. 

“About two weeks…” You murmured, swallowing thickly as you thought about it. “I’ve been going to the lamaze classes and doing the little breathing exercises to get ready… It was just hard to be at the classes since I was the only one there alone.” Minho nodded slowly, his heart aching at the thought of you going through all of this by yourself. “Her room is all set up though… Me and my dad worked on it for a while… I kept getting tired.” 

“So… you’ll be staying here?” He hated that… You and his daughter being so far away from him. It took him an hour to get there from the office, and his house was another hour in the opposite direction. He didn’t want to have to drive two hours just to see you and his baby. “I… You know… I didn’t know that she would be… A girl… But… I’ve been hoping and preparing… I’ve got a room set up for her too. It made me feel a little better… I even got the clothes and the diapers and stuff.” 

Your thumbs twirled around each other as you looked away from him. You knew that at some point it would need to be brought up, you just hadn’t had the chance to really prep what you were going to say to him. “I love you, Minho… But I never planned on going back to you.” You heard the sharp gasp be pushed from his lungs at the revelation. “It wasn’t to hurt you though… I know how important your job is to you. I was doing it to protect you, to protect the guys. I wasn’t going to hide her from you, or keep her from you forever… But I needed to get myself used to doing this on my own so that I didn’t feel like I had to depend on you. I was doing it for me… For her…” 

He slipped off the arm of the couch to fall on the cushion beside you, his hand hesitantly raising before lowering it down on your stomach, his thumb lightly brushing along the fabric that hung loosely over it. “My job is important… But it’s not more important than you, and it’s definitely not more important than her. One day the group is going to be done… And sure, I’ll still have the guys, but I don’t want to be the one sitting around while they all have families of their own… I don’t want to be the one alone while knowing that I do have a family… I just pushed them away. I don’t want you to do this on your own either… You shouldn’t have to. I want to be here, Y/N. I want to be her father… And I want to be your… Your husband.” 

Marriage had never been a topic that the two of you went too far in depth into when it got brought up, you both would ever so lightly touch base on it and then quickly move onto the next topic. It’s not that you didn’t want to get married, it just didn’t seem like an important thing to do during the two years that you had been dating. The only time that it had been seriously brought up was during that talk eight months ago that led to this.

He pulled the box out of his pocket, chuckling softly to himself as he looked at it. “You know… I brought this with me every single time I came to try and see you…” He commented as he opened it up, revealing a thin silver band with the smallest diamond on top. “There’s no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with, no one else I’d rather be starting my family with. I don’t care what management will say, I don’t care what anyone says… I don’t care what happens, as long as I get to be with you and her… So please… Will you say yes? I want to at least try to do this the right way…” 

You sniffled softly, looking down at your hand that the ring was supposed to be placed on, wiggling your finger, it was so easy to imagine what it would look like once it was slipped on. “You make it so hard to hate you, Lee Minho…” You mumbled, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your shirt before letting your hands drop back down to your sides. 

“That should be a good thing, darling. I don’t want you to hate me.” He grabbed your hand, placing the ring delicately on your finger, the fit was perfect, made specifically and only for you. “I want you to love me as much as I love you… And if you’re still unsure… I promise to spend the rest of my life making sure you’re happy, and you’re comfortable, and you know that you’re loved by me.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand before leaning in to kiss you softly, the feeling opening a floodgate of memories that had tears rushing faster down your cheeks, and he worked quickly to catch each and every single one before they had the chance to reach your chin. “I think I’ve got about 8 months worth of catching up to do before the two weeks are up… You think we got enough time?”