#actually have to bang my head into a wall every time i think about it
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jeffersonhairpie · 1 year ago
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jesus christ superstar is about leftist infighting and hating your best friend and loving people wrong and the myopia of fame and inevitability and understanding that you were the cog that might not have turned and how love will not save the world because it is not enough and how people are fickle and how leaders are cowards and how the buck has to stop somewhere and how love doesn't stop just because it's useless or bad and saying 'i told you so' and how good will can never trump The Plan and how together we are so very strong and how God is not going to save us and how the story is incomplete because we have to finish it ourselves
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literaila · 3 months ago
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kid megumi and gojo definitely took bubble baths together while megumi washes his hair and satoru's just yapping about how much he loves reader
“megumi,” gojo says, not even bothering to knock on the door.
it’s the boys fault, really, for leaving it open in the first place.
megumi stills, brows furrowing as his hands stop foaming the soap in his hair. “gojo?” he asks, a bit disbelieving.
he might be going crazy—it’s not uncommon for sorcerers. and megumi barely thought he would make it to fourteen and here he is, so. he should probably tell someone about the hallucinations but—
“you got it,” gojo answers, predictably, sitting on the toilet seat. “i need to talk to you.”
megumi peaks his head around the shower curtain slowly, blinking a few times to make sure the man is really there.
but he is, grinning at the tiny bit of megumi he can see, tapping his fingers on his knees obnoxiously.
megumi points a hand towards the door. “this is an invasion of privacy.”
“megumi,” gojo gives him a bland look. “i’ve seen you naked.”
“that’s creepy.”
gojo sighs, hanging his head. “we’ve known each other for so long now, and you still don’t trust me.”
“you still haven’t given me a reason to. can’t this wait? or not happen? i don’t want to talk to you.”
yes, megumi is still hanging halfway out of the shower. yes, his hair is dripping water on the floor. no, he does not care—it’s gojo’s house anyway. he can fix the ruined floorboards.
“it’s about your mother.”
at that megumi blinks. “what’d you do?“
“i didn’t do anything.”
“are you sure?”
“yes, i’m sure,” gojo scoffs, reaching out to pull his ear—which megumi expertly deflects (he almost slips and dies in the process). “am i crying on the floor right now?”
megumi considers it. then he recalls the last time you and gojo had a fight. he had to check gojo’s pulse every time he walked past the couch.
“good point. what is it?”
“as you know, her birthday is coming up—“
“are you serious?”
“megumi.” gojo’s eyes are dubious, his voice is disapproving. “your mothers birthday is very important.”
megumi rolls his eyes. “i know. i mean, are you seriously asking me about this right now? im in the shower. there’s shampoo in my hair.”
gojo nods very seriously. “it’s the only place she won’t hear.”
“she’s not even home.”
“she’s hidden cameras, megumi, i know it.”
“no she hasn’t.”
gojo pouts. “i want it to be a surprise. she always finds out about her gifts before i can give them to her.”
“that’s because you tell her.”
“the suspense is too much. i need you to buy her something for me and hide it so i don’t know what it is.”
he sounds absolutely serious, which might be the worst part of that request, actually.
and when has megumi ever done gojo a favor?
“gojo,” megumi gives him a little smirk, tilting his head. “i’m not doing that.”
gojo groans, falling onto the floor. “c’mon, megumi, we’re supposed to be friends.”
“you’re my teacher, if anything.”
“and your father,” he juts his chin, “favoritism is not cute.”
“good.”
megumi finally turns around. gojo was never going to leave, even if he’d attempted to tackle him out of the door.
and he’s used to this, anyway. there hasn’t been a day in seven years that he’s gotten some peace.
“okay,” gojo begins again, sounding like he’s won—which he hasn’t. “i was thinking some jewelry, but you know how picky she is. and besides, she’s too rough for something small. tsumiki is already getting her that chibi mug we saw in that corner store last weekend, and whatever you’re getting is off of the table too.”
“i’m not listening to this.”
“i could take her out to dinner, but that’s not a gift. and i do that anyway. maybe i should buy her a car—what kind do you think she’d like? something blue, like my eyes—“
megumi groans.
gojo pauses. “did you get soap in your eye?”
honestly, banging his head against the wall might be better than this. at least they have pain killers at the hospital.
megumi doesnt answer, no longer entertaining this, but gojo continues anyway.
“maybe we should re-do the bathroom, you know how she’s always saying that—“
god, when will it end?
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monzabee · 1 year ago
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what you do to me – lh44 (+18)
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Summary: The one where Lewis returns home to you – the one thing he desperately wants, but won't let himself have completely.
Pairing: lewis hamilton x fwb!reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: angst, feelings, friends with benefits relationship, smut!, slight choking, unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!), slight manhandling?, pwp, minors dni!!
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! my boyfriend forced me to watch hellraiser the other day, and there was this one scene that i could just not thinking about so i wanted to write something inspired by it, and who better to write it about than sir lewis hamilton?? also, i reaaaallly wanted to write a friends with benefits thing and it was so much fun, i honestly wasn’t expecting. the title of this fic is actually a john legend song that i love and i think it fits the vibes for this fic, so please feel free to give it a listen if you're interested! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
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It’s a shame Lewis doesn’t spend more time in his Monte Carlo penthouse during the season because it’s a space he enjoys spending time in so much. He doesn’t mind being alone in his home – if anything, it’s refreshing after spending so much time being the focal point of so many cameras during the season. Also, technically, he is not alone he supposes; he has Roscoe to keep him company when he’s home, after all.
Coming home from a successful season is rewarding, he feels as if he’s deserved the rest he looks forward to. On the other hand, coming home from a not-so-successful season? Well he feels like shit – both mentally and physically. That is not to say that he doesn’t appreciate the time off, though, he is more than happy to not drive for weeks and just enjoy the winter break. Coming home is also always kind of bittersweet. He catches up with some of his friends he didn’t have time for during the season, his family who always support him through thick and thin, but most importantly he tries to make time for you and your… well, arrangement.
He knows something is wrong the minute you reply to his text about him being home. A simple okay is not a response he is used to getting from you. Alas, he shakes off the unease and chalks it up to a hectic day on your end. The pitter patter of Roscoe’s paws on the hardwood floors is enough to distract him from the situation, given the fact that the puppy is impatient for his dinner and is looking at the driver with pleading eyes.
“Okay ‘Coe,” he mumbles as he motions the kitchen with his head, “let’s go.”
The way Roscoe wobbles towards the kitchen brings a small smile to Lewis’ face even though he is still hung up on your answer. After he’s done feeding the puppy, he decides to grab a quick shower to ease the tiredness that comes from a long travel day. The hot water cascading down from the rainfall shower does a good job of taking care of his sore muscles, and he is more than happy to stay under the warm water if it means the soreness will go away. That is until he hears banging coming from his front door. He has every intention of just ignoring the person on the other side of the door; however, as the knocks get more and more persistent, he gets out of the shower with a groan. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he marches towards the front door, and looks through the peephole only to end up opening the door quicker than he would’ve liked.
His voice is confused as he mumbles out, “Lovey?” But you just straighten up from your position of leaning against the wall and throw your bag on the floor as you push your way through his apartment and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches as you attempt to hide yourself in the crook of his neck, and he is not sure what he’s supposed to do with his hands for a moment. “Hey,” he calls out softly, “what’s wrong?”
You pull back slightly to look into his worried eyes, “Just kiss me.” Your voice comes out somewhere between a whisper and a sob, and you can see the hesitation in Lewis’ eyes, but you just pull him towards you as you press a soft kiss on his lips, “Please.”
“What happened?” He tries once again to get an answer from you, but you shut down his attempt as you press your lips against his once more, more assertive this time. And who is he to deny you your wishes? So, like the perfect gentleman he is, he reciprocates your kiss with a one of his own as he wraps his arms around you to signal you to jump. Thankfully, you are so tuned with each other that you end up jumping up anyway, and he picks you up as you wrap your legs around his hips. Closing the door, he starts walking back towards his bedroom as your lips start moving more frantically against his own. “Slow down,” he warns, pulling back to give both of you a chance to breathe, “we have all night.”
Whining at the loss of contact from his lips, and you let your dissatisfaction known by attempting to roll your hips against his bare stomach, “Don’t wanna.” There’s still a lingering sob in your voice, but it is more reflective of the neediness you feel now that you have him between your arms – and legs. Lewis lets his hands roam down towards your ass to give you a warning squeeze – a one, maybe you would’ve been threatened by it if you weren’t so lost in him at the moment. You try your best to ignore the look he gives you, one filled with sternness; so instead, you move your lips downwards towards Lewis’ neck with another roll of your hips. “I missed you.”
He stills the movement of your hips as he simultaneously releases an appreciative groan at the way your lips feel on his skin. “I missed you too, lovey.” He is careful as he approaches his bed and sits down on the plush mattress with you still in his arms. Wrapping a hand around your hair to tilt your head back so he can look into your eyes again, he attempts to keep himself from becoming hard from the mere prospect of you wrapping your body around his. His eyes search yours for answers as to your sour mood, “Tell me what’s wrong, bad day?”
“Try bad month,” you scoff, letting your hands slide over his, somehow, still damp torso. “You weren’t here,” you explain as you free yourself from his hold on your hair and take off your sweatshirt, “don’t wan’ to talk about it.”
“Well, I’m here now.” A sudden realisation that you are not wearing anything under your top comes to Lewis, and he has to mentally restrain himself from doing something rash. “Not wearing a bra?” He asks, one of his eyebrows raised.
You let out a confirming hum, “Not wearing any underwear either.” Giving him an innocent smile at the groan he gets out, you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, “Thought they’d get in the way.” His hands feel warm on your bare skin as he drags them up on your body to gently cup your exposed breasts, causing you to brace yourself by hanging onto his shoulder for support. Whining as you feel his thumb make contact with your sensitive nipple, you decide to pull him in for another kiss, mumbling a breathy, “Kiss me,” against his lips. 
He obliges your request, of course, but he doesn’t let you control the kiss like you would’ve liked to. Instead, he stops the kiss by gently biting down on your lip before you can deepen it. With a small pat to your hip, he mumbles, “Get up, let me see you.” The look he gives you is just so full of adoration that you have no other choice to get up from his lap with the slowest moves you can muster. His eyes never leave you when you take a step back so that he can see you, all of you, and with the small nod he gives you, you begin taking off your leggings and shoes. That’s the thing about Lewis – for someone who is in the spotlight most of their time, he loves watching. And it is not only limited to the bedroom, you realise, he watches you even when you are doing mundane things together, like grocery shopping or walking Roscoe, domestic things that couples do together. But you can’t think about that, no, because both of you agreed that this was only physical and nothing more. Shaking the thoughts away, you straighten up from your bent position only to find Lewis looking you with a much darker look in his eyes. He’s dangerous, when he looks like that, you realise, he could break you into pieces with just his words, and the worst part is that you’d absolutely let him. “Pretty girl,” he whispers into the distance between you, and you take the hand he extends towards you for him to pull you against himself. The feeling of his lips on your skin almost feel feverish, and you find yourself releasing a gasp. “You’re the prettiest girl ever, lovey.”
“Lewis,” you brokenly whisper, your voice would be bordering on whiny with all the neediness that comes with it, “please, I need you.” The pleading look you give him is vulnerable, if not desperate.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips leaving another open-mouthed kiss, this time closer to your lower belly. His voice does a good job of soothing your erratic mind, his arms envelope you as he promises, “Whatever it is I’m here now, tell me what you want.”
He does a good job of putting you on the spot, you think, but unlike your usual self, you don’t have the patience for teasing tonight. “I want you to fuck me,” your voice comes off stronger than before, but it wavers as you also add, “please.” The last word brings a small smirk to Lewis’ face, and you let out a shriek as he quickly throws you onto the bed. “You almost scared me to death,” you complain, pushing out your lower lip in a pout.
“You’ll be fine,” he lets out a breathy laugh while quickly getting rid of the towel still, miraculously, hanging on his hips. The smirk on his face grows as he watches you shamelessly checking him out, but he never breaks his gaze from yours when your eyes meet as he wraps a hand around his cock to jerk himself for a few times. You spread your legs to accommodate his body as he leans over your lying figure by using his free arm as support. Rubbing the tip of his cock through your slick slit a few times, you can feel his breathy chuckle hit your skin while his lips run over your jaw to leave small kisses. “You’re so wet for me,” he mumbles, and the whimper that leaves your lips when he makes a point to rub his tip over your clit wins another chuckle, “you’re gonna be good for me?”
“Uh-huh,” you mumble as you nod frantically, “yes Lu, I’m gonna be good, I promise. Please, just fuck me.” You try to tempt him by wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him closer – either you are successful and he gives in, or he is just as desperate to get inside you as you are desperate to feeling him because he complies with your movements as he nudges the tip of his cock into you in a slow push forward. The stretch is burning every single time, and usually he gives you enough time to accommodate his size before proceeding to fuck your brains out. But this time, he doesn’t waste any time as he pushes himself fully into you until he’s buried inside you to the hilt. The gasp you begin to let out turns into a silent scream as the feeling of being full consumes you, “Fuck, Lewis–”
“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothes you through the initial pain, “you’re alright, just breathe th for a bit.” And you do what he tells you to because… well, you know he won’t do anything to hurt you. He brings his free hand towards your face to cup your cheek, which you respond by turning your head towards the warmness. “Tell me when the pain goes away,” he whispers against your skin – he finds he absolutely loves the way your skin flushes every single time he fucks you, and the thought makes him freeze for a second. Love? That is not something he should be thinking about, not especially when he’s buried inside you, because you both agreed–
Deciding to respond wordlessly, you press a soft kiss in the middle of Lewis’ palm, whilst also attempting to roll your hips, but then whining because of the additional pressure, “Please, Lewis, please move.”
That must’ve done the job of breaking Lewis out of whatever trance he was in, because once he hears your whiny voice pleading him to move, he starts thrusting his hip in and out of you in a rhythm that simply leaves you breathless in mere seconds. It’s the stress of the season, you think to yourself, but Lewis’ movements just get faster and deeper until he hits that one spot inside you that makes your whines turn into a scream and has you arching into him. You can’t see his reaction with your eyes fluttered close, but he stills his movements for a few moments as he looks at you as if you’re the most precious thing in his life. He waits until your erratic breathing to get back to normal before he starts rolling his hips against yours again, but this time the tempo he adopts is much slower, sensual, and almost… too intimate for it to only be considered physical between the two of you.
Your eyes flutter open as you look at him with confusion, “Wha– What are you–?” But he only cuts you off by pressing his lips against you to swallow your question in a kiss. The slower tempo is surprisingly more pleasurable then his usual style that you’ve dubbed fast and furious, and every time his hips roll at a certain angle, he brushes your clit in a way that makes your feet curl in pleasure.
He is breathless when he pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, but then again, so are you. The way he seems to gaze into your eyes make your breath hitch, and if you thought that was Lewis showing his emotions, he decides to put them into words. “So good for me, lovey,” he moans, yes moans because one thing you’ve learned from the start is that real men moan, “you were made for me, weren’t you?” His accent gets thicker, which is a tell that he’s getting there, but he won’t let himself come before he makes sure you’re taken care of. “Look at how you’re taking me, reckon I can feel myself if I place my hand on your belly?” It makes him laugh when you whine as you attempt to slither your hand towards your stomach to test his theory, but one deep stroke of his hips and your arms envelope them around his shoulders to use him as a support. “Perfect, you’re just perfect for me, hm? My perfect, pretty, little girl.”
“Please,” you whimper out, the tears that form in the corner of your eyes threatening to fall, “I’m so close.” It’s been such an emotional day, and a shitty month that all you wanted was to be consumed by him –  and now that you have him in your arms, acting like you are more than just two friends who use each other for something so trivial and human as urges, you don’t want to let him go. Especially not when he makes you feel like you could love him for the rest of your life. Even if just the thought of it is enough to make your heart race. Needless to say, the sob you let out is unexpected on both of your ends, and you know he’s about to stop when he slows down even more, but you give him a stern look through your tears, “Don’t you dare stop.” You moan, loud enough for his neighbours downstairs to hear, once he picks up the pace again, but it’s still slow enough for it to be considered love making and not fucking by both of your standards.
He knows you’re close when your walls start clenching around him, which makes it much harder for him to compose himself. So, being the perfect gentleman he is, he starts rubbing your clit with one of his hands, his fingers work hard to bring you even more pleasure. He watches in amazement as you trash around under his body and as your whimpers and moans get louder gradually – until you are coming undone around him, starting to sob because of the pressure gets released in your tummy, that is. His hips still continue their languid movements, just like the faster movement of his fingers, as he fucks you through your release, mumbling sweet nothings and encouragements into your ear. Lewis does his best to kiss the tears that escape from your eyes, his breath fanning over your feverish skin.
“So good,” your moans get softer as you get calmer after a while, though your voice is still scratchy, “wanna feel you more, Lu.” Sliding your hand between your bodies to take his hand away from your clit, the loss of his touch makes you whine softly and he watches you in confusion while still continuing his movements slowly, but you see the way his eyes light up with a dark look when you wrap his fingers around your throat, and thankfully he understands the message as he tightens his hold just the way you like it. “Yeah, just like that,” you moan, encouraging him to pick up the pace. This time, it’s your turn to whisper praises riddled with encouragement, and you know it gets to him, because every single stroke his hips deliver end up making him fill you more and more, as if that was possible. The sobs coming from your lips transform into ones of pleasure, bringing Lewis closer and closer to his release.
“Look at me,” his voice is sharp, and it makes you immediately fix your eyes on his. There is an immense sense of wanting to please him, or rather make him proud within you, and he rewards you with a burning kiss that leaves you panting and wanting more as he spills himself into you. As he pulls away to moan out your name, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip. You gently bite down on his thumb while you manage to get out a satisfied moan, eyes closing ever so slightly as you feel him spill into you, and he keeps pulling you even closer to himself when he lets his body fall next to yours.
You have no idea how he manages to still stay inside you, but you can feel his lips pressing gentle kisses across your hairline, and brushing away the sweaty strands. “You feel better now, lovey?” Smiling at the tiredness dripping from his voice, you hum airily, a satisfied smile on your face while you move your neck to look at him.  “Good,” his whisper brushes your lips as he nudges the tip of your nose with his, earning a giggle from you while he wipes away the dry tears on your cheeks.
“Do you have to leave?” There is a whiny undertone to your question, and it makes him give you a gentle smile.
“Not for a while,” he assures you, then he presses his lips softly on yours in a small kiss, “I promise.”
He grabs your hand to weave his fingers through yours, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles as he keeps silent for a moment – because he knows at that moment, just because you asked, he’ll cancel every single plan he’s made, just to spend more time with you so that he can make you smile like that. “Until you get sick of me, that is.” Your tired laughter fills his ears until it is interrupted by a yawn. He carefully moves you so that he gently takes himself out of you, and rolls you sideways so he can wrap his arms around as he pulls you close to cuddle. “Go to sleep, lovey, we’ll talk in the morning,” he mumbles as he presses soft kisses to your bare shoulder. You close your eyes with a smile on your face, burying yourself into his chest as much as you can, and hear him mumble, “My lovey,” before promptly falling asleep.
You pretend you didn’t hear him in the morning because the arrangement the two of you made was about keeping things causal.
But you respond by squeezing his hand three times in return anyway.
And he responds.
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dreaming-medium · 1 year ago
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Stray Kids Kinktober Day 10
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Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist
Praise Kink - Hyunjin
Word Count: 11.7K
Summary: As a lead detective in the police department, you've been assigned to solve a serial killer case, but you've hit a point where you can no longer work on the case by yourself. Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department and your sworn rival, is assigned as your partner.
---------------------------------------
You have officially run out of red string. 
The cork board in the conference room doesn’t have any more open spaces for new leads or clues. You can’t even see the brown of the board anymore. 
Instead of whittling information down, you’ve only come up with more suspects for the case. 
It’s better than the case going cold, sure, but it feels like you’re getting further and further from actually solving the damn thing. 
It also doesn’t help that you not only have Chief Bang breathing down your neck, but the entire city as well. You understand, really, everyone wants a killer to be caught. 
But these sort of things take time. 
And they usually don’t have a million and thirty leads. Typically, you were lucky to have one. 
Everyone in the city has a tip. And you have to check each and every single one. 
Three sharp knocks draw your exhausted attention away from the board. 
“Come in!” You call out. 
The door clicks open and dress shoes click on the floor. 
“I think you’re going to need another cork board soon, Detective.”
Your mood curdles like milk. 
“What do you want, Hwang?”
Hwang Hyunjin, the department’s top detective and your least favorite person in the world.  
Every case he touches is solved. Every last one of them. But maybe— just maybe— it’s because he gets to pick and choose which ones he’s assigned to. 
The golden child of the police department. The biggest, cockiest pain in the ass you’ve ever met. 
He clicks his tongue and walks up to the conference table you’re leaning against. 
“I have a whole new stack of tips for you.” 
The sound of a thick stack of papers hits the table, you cringe. 
You haven’t even finished going through the last stack. 
“And I am once again humbly offering my assistance on this case.”
You look over at him for the first time tonight. His long black hair is pulled back with a few strands dangling in front of his face. 
He wears a pressed dress shirt, black tie, black vest, and slacks. 
Truly, it looks like he popped off a magazine cover and you hate it. 
“And I am humbly declining. I can handle this on my own, thank you.” 
Your own heels click along the floor as you come around the conference table to sit down in front of the first stack of papers. 
Hyunjin shoves his hands in his pockets and meanders closer to the cork board. 
He looks up and down all the different leads, the ever expanding list of suspects, murder weapons, locations. He’s silent for a long moment. 
The only sound in the room is the clock ticking on the wall. 
What time is it anyway? You’ve been here since 4 AM when a call came in about another victim. The bags under your eyes surely look like bruises at this point. 
Since you started on this case two months ago there hasn’t been a single night where you’ve gotten more than five hours of sleep. 
Words are blending together on the paper. Is the sun up?
Warily, you turn and eye Hyunjin, who’s still staring at the cork board. His head cocks to the side as he studies all the different clues littering the surface. 
He takes a deep breath and turns to look at you. You point an accusatory finger at him. 
“No! No, no. You’re not coming in here and solving my case that I’ve been working on for months!”
His mouth shuts, a smirk appears. 
Oh, you want to smack it off his face. 
“I was only going to say—“
“No! Nothing! I do not need your help! Get out of here!” You shoo him away. 
“L/N—“ he tries again. 
“Shut it!”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes and sucks his teeth while making his way to the door. 
You glare daggers into the back of his head, praying that a ceiling tile will miraculously fall and crush him. 
He grabs the door handle and walks into the hallway. Right before the door closes, he peeks his head in through the crack. 
“The killer is ambidextrous,” he says in a sing-songy voice. 
A frustrated, muted scream tears from your throat and you hurl the nearest object— which happens to be a metal cup full of pens and pencils— at the door. 
It shuts before the cup makes contact. 
Hyunjin’s laugh comes through the closed door and it only makes your blood boil more. 
You slam your head down onto the wood desk. 
“Of course he’s ambidextrous.”
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“Detective L/N,” Chief Bang’s head pokes into the conference room. “Can I see you in my office please?”
You haven’t gone home yet. You’re in the same clothes as yesterday except now they’re more wrinkled. 
Nodding, you put down your pen and tell your chief you’ll be there in a minute. 
He hums and leaves the room. 
You rub the heels of your palms into your eyes to try and get the exhaustion out of them. 
About 100 ounces of coffee is flowing through your body but it’s doing nothing to wake you up, all it’s doing is increasing your heart rate. 
To anyone else who wanders through your police department, they might think you’ve escaped the morgue.
The walk to Chief Bang’s office was short. 
As soon as you step inside, your heart sinks. 
The chief sits behind his desk, but that’s not why your stomach turns. 
Hyunjin takes up one of the chairs, another freshly pressed suit on his body. 
The man is flawless and it makes you want to become a suspect for one of your cases. 
“Take a seat, detective.” Chief Bang motions to the other empty chair. 
Hyunjin looks up at you, arms crossed over his chest. A smug smirk pulls on his lips as he takes in your disheveled appearance. 
You tongue your cheek for a moment and flip your hair over your shoulder before sitting down. Your fingers iron out deep wrinkles in your pencil skirt. 
You try to maintain some level of pride. It’s comical, really.
“Now, I’ll cut right to the chase here, Y/N, it’s not that I don’t trust your abilities as a detective, I do.”
You deflate. 
“But this case is becoming too much for one person.”
Your jaw clenches. 
So badly you want to refute that claim, to tell Chief Bang that you have it handled, it’s no big deal. But that’s a lie and you both know it. 
And the smug asshole next to you definitely knows it. 
“Detective Hwang has kindly offered his assistance on the case, so I’m assigning him as your partner on this.”
You think for a moment. “Can I get a different partner? I think Detective Kim just closed his last case, meaning he’s available to help.” 
“Detective Kim started a new case this morning.”
“Detective Lee?”
“Busy.”
“Officer Yang?”
“He’s not even a detective.”
“What about Detective Seo?”
Chief Bang stays silent, deadpan eyes watch you. He cocks his head to the side. 
You sink back in the chair. 
“I specialize in homicide cases, L/N.” Hyunjin pipes up from next to you. “I’m the best one for the case and you know it.”
“Zip it, Hwang.”
Hyunjin scoffs. 
Chief Bang rolls his eyes, his patience obviously wearing thin. “Y/N, I’m going to need you to swallow your pride for the sake of the city. There’s a murderer on the loose, remember? You’re my top detectives, it would be stupid not to partner you together.”
You can’t meet his eyes, you look off to the side, crossing your arms over your chest. Anxiously, your leg begins to bounce.
“Put your personal feelings aside, Y/N.”
Silence falls over the room. Both of the men wait for you. 
It really doesn’t feel like you have a choice, here. Obviously, you don’t. 
“Fine.”
“Great!” Hyunjin taps his hands on the arms of the chair and then pops up. “I’m going to need access to all the files you’ve been looking at these past two months as well as the extra key to the conference room.”
He grabs his trench coat off the back of the chair. 
“I’ll also need you to catch me up to speed on the latest tips from civilians; you did have time to read those last night, right? Additionally, I think we should rearrange our hours so that we’re on duty together until this is solved.”
He makes his way towards the door. 
“Come on, L/N! We’ll discuss over coffee.”
You stare at Chief Bang. He offers you a slightly amused, slightly sympathetic smile. 
“Best of luck, detectives.”
---------------------------------------
The hot mug rests between both of your shaky hands. Hyunjin sat across from you in a large diner booth. 
Files littered the entirety of the top of the table. It’s all things you’ve seen before and practically have memorized by now. 
You explained everything you knew to him from the beginning, sparing no detail. 
College girls were all found murdered in their dorms. No security footage of anyone going in or out of the building that doesn’t belong there. 
Each victim is about two weeks apart. 
A half eaten fruit cup sits next to your coffee. ‘Fruit cup’ is a loose term since more than half of it was honeydew melon. 
Why can’t they just throw a few strawberries in there? Slice up a banana or toss a few blueberries in? They already have the fruit in the back for the pancakes, it would be so easy to—
“I don’t think this victim is from the same killer.”
Your head snaps up and you glare at Hyunjin. “Who?”
He slides the file across the table to you. “Andrea Bowman. She doesn’t fit the same profile as the other victims. All the others were blonde, Andrea has brown hair.”
You sip at your coffee, glazed eyes scanning the file. You’re simply too tired to keep up the anger.  
“I had thought the same thing at first. But according to the coroner, her time of death would put her as the first victim of the killer, first victims of serial killers tend to not fit the profile of the rest since it’s the first taste.”
Her autopsy stares up at you. 
“Plus, everything else is consistent with the rest, bruised wrists and ankles and a slit throat. They’re all college aged girls who went to the local community college.”
You slide the crime scene photos around, taking in all the details. 
“Maybe she wasn’t his victim.” One of her school photos peeks out from the bottom of the stack, you pick it up and look at it solemnly. “But something tells me she was his first.”
Hyunjin watches you closely, any rebuttal he had died on the tip of his tongue. 
Plates clatter in the kitchen.  
Your nose scrunches and you pack away Andrea’s file. 
“You said they all go to the same school?”
“Yeah, the community college.”
“Did they all study the same thing?”
You shake your head, taking another sip of coffee. “Nope, all different fields of study, all different extracurriculars. They didn’t even live in the same dorm building.”
Hyunjin leans back against the booth and picks up his iced coffee, taking a long sip while staring out the window. 
Your fingers run through your hair. “I requested their transcripts and class schedules from every year but I’m waiting on all those requests to process. With how slow the registrar’s office is taking you would swear they didn’t want this case solved.”
“Red tape always gets in the way.” Hyunjin reaches down in his pocket and takes his phone out, tapping a few buttons and then holding it up to his ear. 
You cock an eyebrow at him, he only holds up a finger at you. You scoff. 
“Dianne? Hi, it’s Hyunjin!… I’m doing so well, and you? … That’s great to hear! … Yes, yes those homemade cookies were to die for.”
Your mouth falls open a bit. Who in the hell was he talking to? Homemade cookies?
Throwing your hands up in front of your face, you give him a flabbergasted look. 
He narrows his eyes at you and gives you a look that says ‘be quiet’.
“Listen, I was actually calling to cash in a favor, I have a list of students I need transcripts and schedules of for a case. … I can email it over to you, it’s for the— … yes, yes that one.”
You slow blink at him. Does he have a contact at the registrar’s office? Of course he does, why wouldn’t he have one?
The golden child strikes again. 
“You’re a darling, Dianne, thank you. I’ll send it to you asap. … of course, say hello to Rob for me. Bye!”
He hangs up and puts his phone back on the table. 
Hyunjin takes one look at your face and shrugs. “What? I helped her with a personal matter when I was a P.I.”
If you roll your eyes anymore, they’ll go into the back of your head. 
“So do you have a list—“
You interrupt him. “Yeah.”
“Can you—“
“Mhmm.”
You finish your coffee and reach into your purse, digging out a ten dollar bill and tossing it onto the table. 
“Where are you going?” He asks you. 
“Home,” you respond simply while shuffling out of the booth. “I haven’t slept since Monday.”
Hyunjin looks down at the various files on the table. “What about the list?”
You move the files around and pull out one of the papers and place it in front of him. 
“It’s right here. I’ll see you tomorrow, Hwang.”
“Tomorrow? But what about—“
“If Dianne gets the list back to you, just forward it to me. I’ll look at it when I wake up.” Your voice is full of venom. 
“I really think we should look at it together.” His eyes narrow. “We’re partners on this, remember?”
“As if you would even need my help,” you spit out. “By the time I come in tomorrow, you’ll probably have the entire case solved, the perp arrested, and all the paperwork done before I even pour my coffee.”
The more you talk, the more your anger levels rise. You lean over him in the booth, one of your hands on the back of the seat to keep you balanced. 
Hyunjin’s eyes widen and he leans back as you go forward. 
“The golden boy will strike again, solving a case that I’ve been working on for months and getting all the credit. Because that’s just how good you are. Mr. Perfect. Everything about you is just amazing.”
He gulps and shifts around. A red tint creeps up on his face. 
And for the first time since you met him, Hwang Hyunjin is speechless. His mouth opens to say something several times but no sound comes out. 
“Now. If you’ll excuse me.” You stand back up and turn on a heel, leaving the diner and a very flustered detective behind. 
---------------------------------------
Knock after knock after knock after knock bangs on your apartment door. 
You’re not sure of how long whoever’s been knocking has been at it, but it takes you a solid thirty seconds to wake up fully. You had peacefully drifted into a very deep sleep the moment your head hit the pillow. 
The entire bedroom is pitch black, the sun no longer in the sky. The clock on your nightstand displays that it’s around 1 AM. 
“What the fuck?” You slur out. It’s so hard to open your eyes right now. 
The knocking persists.
With all the grace of a drunken newborn deer, you slither out of bed and make your way to your front door. 
You flip on a light on your way there. 
Staring through the peephole, a frown pulls at your face as soon as you see who’s banging on your door at this ungodly hour. 
You rip the door open, startling Hyunjin. His hand still hangs in the air when you open it. 
“Finally!” He shoves past you and into your apartment. 
“No, please, come on in.” You growl and shut the door, securing all the locks in place again. 
Behind you, you hear him slam a stack of papers onto your kitchen island. 
“I forwarded you the transcripts hours ago but you didn’t answer.”
“I told you I would look at them when I woke up.”
He takes in your disheveled appearance with judging eyes. Your hair was all frizzy and out of place, a loose t-shirt hung off one shoulder and was so big you couldn’t see the shorts underneath. 
His Adam’s Apple bobs with a swallow. 
It was obvious he wasn’t used to seeing you in such a relaxed state. He was still wearing his dress pants from earlier, but he only had a dress shirt on with his trench coat over the top. 
“You’re awake now, aren’t you?” He looks back down at the stack of files and opens them up, spreading papers everywhere. 
You come up to the table and look down at everything. 
Semesters of different class schedules stare back at you. Some have highlighted portions, others are still blank. He seems to have given up in the middle of doing it himself, opting to bring it here. 
You tongue your cheek, looking over what you can see so far.
It’s going to be a long night.
“I’ll make coffee.”
---------------------------------------
Hours have passed, the sleepiness and weariness of being woken up has been replaced by the delightful thrum of caffeine in your veins.
After about a half an hour of going through the transcripts, you quietly asked Hyunjin if he was alright with you playing music softly. 
He stared at you with wide eyes, “Ah, yeah, of course, that’s fine.”
You cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m just… not used to you asking for permission before doing something.”
Grumbling, you rolled your eyes and picked your phone up to scroll through playlists. You settled on a calmer one full of music from artists like Lord Huron and Tom Rosenthal. 
Since then the two of you have been silently going through each schedule. 
Biting the end of the highlighter absentmindedly, you study the class schedule. 
“I’m only seeing one similarity.” You say out loud. Hyunjin looks up. “This one class, it’s a gen ed Physics class. But each of these girls took it, all at different times though.”
“Which class?”
“PHYS 100. Same Professor– Dr. Furon.”
“Do you think we should bring the professor in for questioning?” he asks.
“Couldn’t hurt. Right now he’s the only common denominator. Is it anywhere on your transcript?”
Hyunjin flips through the pages. “Yep, right here, her freshman spring semester back in 2020.”
You pull out a sticky note and write down that info. 
“Can you go through each one and tell me when they took the course?”
Hyunjin gathers all the stapled packets of papers up. “Yeah.”
---------------------------------------
You and Hyunjin stood shoulder to shoulder looking through the one way glass. 
A near ninety year old man sat on the other side. 
“So,” Hyunjin says to break the silence. 
“So.”
“It can’t be him.”
“Obviously.”
Another long moment of silence. 
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to question him or should I?”
You sigh, watching as the professor fidgets with a loose string on his sweater sleeve. The officers had completely forgone the handcuffs, allowing him to sit at the table freely. 
They also rolled in a comfier chair and gave him a cup of coffee. 
“My case. I’ll do it.”
“ Our case.”
“Shut it, Hwang.”
You make your way into the interrogation room with a notepad tucked under your arm. 
The professor looks up as soon as you open the door. He shakily stands up from his seat with proper manners. 
You smile gently. “Dr. Furon, thank you so much for taking the time to come down.”
Both of you shake hands before sitting down. His grip is not firm whatsoever. 
Arthritis. 
“Oh, it’s no matter. Happy to be of help.”
You place the notepad down and scoot your chair in. “I’ll get right to it since I can see you’ll be our best help here. When analyzing the list of victims, we saw that each of them had taken your class before. It’s a small lead, I know, but it’s too much to sweep under the rug.”
He nods, listening carefully. He blanches and leans back. “I didn’t realize I had each of them. There are so many students in each section, there’s not enough time to learn names.”
He shakes his head. 
“I had recognized a few in the paper, but I try not to do too much digging, it hurts too much to look into. I don’t know how you detectives do it.”
You reach across the table and grab his hands warmly. “I feel the same way about physics, I don’t know how you do it. All those equations.”
Dr. Furon cracks a smile. “Someone has to. But I do have help with all my courses. Each student has a specific discussion section once a week with a smaller class size, but they’re all taught by graduate students.”
You jot that down on your notebook and lean your chair back. You knock once on the window.
“On it.” Hyunjin’s muffled voice comes through the glass. 
“Just one more question, Dr. Furon, I won’t take up any more of your time, this has been very valuable. Are there any students or people that you come in contact with that maybe trigger some alarm bells or a gut instinct?”
He shifts around, he really thinks about it. 
“I really can’t think of anything, detective, I’m sorry. The girls’ names that I recognize were normal students too, granted they weren’t the best, but I do know they were doing their very best. Breaks my heart.”
You scribble that down and stand up. 
“Thank you very much for your time, Dr. Furon. We greatly appreciate your help.”
He nods and stands up as well. “Of course, if I can do anything else, please give me a call.”
“If you think of anything else, here’s my card.” You reach across the table and hand him a small business card. 
You showed the professor out of the room, asking if he needed anything. He patted your arm sweetly before leaving. 
When you turn around, Hyunjin is standing there, waving a file around. 
You roll your eyes. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”
---------------------------------------
Your apartment has become the unofficial meeting place for both you and Hyunjin once your shifts are over. The department wasn’t great for concentration. 
They say not to take work home with you, but your home is so much cozier. 
It’s only about 8 PM. Takeout containers take up a small portion of the kitchen island. 
Another pot of coffee is brewing. 
“So, between the victims, there are five different graduate students that taught their discussion sections. And one of them graduated last year.” Hyunjin flips through his notes. 
You run your hands through your hair. 
“So, four graduate students.”
“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’. 
“Do we have any information on the four students?”
“No, but we have enough cause to bring them down to the station for questioning.”
You sigh and pick up your phone. “Let’s do that, then.”
A message is sent off to Chief Bang, he replies immediately saying he’ll contact them immediately and have them brought in and that he’ll call you when you can come in. 
“I just don’t think it was any of the graduate students.” Hyunjin adds, sliding papers around to grab a victim’s file. 
“I agree.”
He doesn’t seem to hear you. “Two of the graduate students are women— women don’t commit murders like this, the other two are masters in their field with promising careers.”
“I know, I agree with you, Hwang.”
“And I just don’t think that— wait, you agree?”
You stare at him with a blank expression. “Yes, I agree with you.”
He shifts around on the seat. His mouth opens and closes a few times before actually speaking. “You agree?”
Rolling your eyes, you place the papers down on the table. “Hwang, you know I would rather die than agree with you, but in this case, yes, I agree, I think you’re right.”
“Oh.”
Looking back down at the papers, you absentmindedly read a sentence in one of the witness statements. “I know you get the job done, I’m not going to put personal feelings before a case.”
Hyunjin fidgets more. “So, you think I’m a good detective?”
Is he serious?
You roll your eyes, still not looking up. “Yes, Hwang. Chief Bang has proclaimed you as one of the greatest detectives— everyone at the station knows that.”
“I just didn’t think you thought that way.”
“I’m not here to stroke your ego, Hwang.”
He clears his throat and shifts forward on his chair. “But do you , Y/L L/N, think I’m a good detective?”
Putting the paper down on the counter, you look up at him with a cocked eyebrow and a frown. “Really? Do your work.”
“Not until you say it.” He smirks and crosses his arms over his chest. 
Rolling your eyes, you look down once more. What was on this page again?
“Choke.”
Hyunjin takes a breath to say something, but your phone lights up with a call at the same time. Expecting it to be Chief Bang, you answer quickly. 
“Detective L/N.” 
“Detective!” An old voice comes from the other line. You pull your phone back to look at the unknown number and then bring it back to your ear. 
Hyunjin’s attention peaks at your confusion.
“It’s Dr. Furon, I apologize for calling so suddenly.”
“Oh, hi Doctor, it’s no trouble at all.” You look around for your notepad. 
“Put it on speaker,” Hyunjin hisses while leaning forward. You shoo him off. He reaches forward to grab the phone from you, you smack his hand. 
“I remembered something I didn’t get a chance to say earlier, I’m so sorry I didn’t think of it,” Dr. Furon continues. 
“That’s quite alright, it’s the reason I gave you my number. Now, what is it?” You grab a pen and a random piece of paper. 
Hyunjin reaches again, you smack his hand once more. “Speaker!” He grumbles again. 
Dr. Furon talks, unaware of the petty brawl happening on the other line. “All of the students that are struggling in my class, I point them to the tutoring center in the library. As far as I remember, the names that were in the paper, the ones I recognize at least, they were going to the tutoring center.”
Your eyes widen and you write it down quickly. 
Hyunjin’s patience wears out, he stands up from the counter and comes around to your side, his face dipping down to press his ear to the other side of the phone. 
“Is there only one tutor available for your class?” you ask, jotting down notes. 
“I’m not sure, I’m sorry. You know, now that I think of it, on their final exams, I give extra credit if they write down that they went to tutoring and name their tutor.”
“Do you have those exams?” Hyunjin asks into the phone. You reach over and flick his forehead. He swats your hand away. 
“Oh, Detective Hwang, how are you?” Dr. Furon says politely. 
“I’m doing very well, thank you.”
You go to smack him again, he once more swats your hand away.
The professor comes back to the conversation. “I have them but they’re in my office. Would you two mind coming to campus to get them tomorrow?”
“Of course,” both you and Hyunjin say at the same time. 
You sneer and push his face away. 
“Great!” Dr. Furon gives you all the details for tomorrow and the two of you hang up. 
Placing your phone on the counter, you stand up to get away from Hyunjin. 
“You could've put it on speaker.” 
“You could’ve been patient!” Grabbing the nearest object— a tissue box— you hurl it at him. 
Hyunjin only laughs and catches it. 
“Putting more coffee on?”
“Obviously.”
---------------------------------------
“It’s the same one,” you say incredulously, flipping through the exams that Dr. Furon had given the two of you. 
While you got the papers from the professor’s office, Hyunjin had gone to the tutoring center for a list of tutors. Apparently he had a connection there as well. 
The two of you now sat in the conference room with your original cork board to the side. New leads and pictures right smack in the middle. 
You had spent the day questioning the graduate students, but as you suspected, it was a dead end. No one knew anything. 
The exams spread over the table were the best lead. 
“It is,” he mutters in agreement and disbelief. 
“Eric Rowan.” 
“Do you think…?” Hyunjin trails off. 
“I do,” you state clearly. “I really do.”
Shaking your head, you flip through the exams over and over to make sure you’re right, to make sure you’re not looking past something. 
You’re not jumping to conclusions, are you?
Hyunjin suddenly stands up from the table and makes his way to the door. “I’ll have the chief get someone to bring him down to the station.”
He didn’t even give a second thought to your decision. 
The door clicks after him. The silence inside the room is deafening. 
It would be perfect if you could play music like you do at home. 
“Eric Rowan,” you whisper solemnly. 
One tutor from the library at the university. 
It would make sense. 
Hyunjin had managed to get Eric’s entire tutoring log, every student he’s ever tutored had been included. 
You were able to highlight each and every one of the girls’ names that were victims of these heinous crimes. There were about two weeks of time between their last tutoring session and when they were found dead. 
One name stuck out, one name brought you an endless sigh of relief: Andrea Bowman.  
It made your skin crawl, but you instantly noticed she was the first female he tutored during his time. 
Slowly, the pieces started clicking. Your throat got a bit tight, it was difficult to swallow the emotions. 
You look around and grab her file underneath a huge stack. Her school picture is the top photo paper clipped on the inside. 
Andrea’s smiling face will haunt you for a long time. 
Hyunjin came back into the room, you didn’t look up. 
“Chief just sent someone out to get him, we’re getting interrogation room two ready for him, I think that— L/N?”
Your head snaps up and you sniffle. 
“Sorry,” your voice is hoarse. 
He shifts his weight in the doorway. “Everything finally hitting?”
You bite your lip and look back at Andrea’s picture. “Yeah.” 
Standing up from the table, you close the file and tuck it underneath a few more. 
“The guy hasn’t even confessed yet, I’m getting ahead of myself here. It just makes too much sense. These girls stopped going to see him two weeks before he killed— supposedly killed them.
“It just reads so clearly. He probably made a move, they felt uncomfortable so they stopped seeing him for tutoring, he couldn’t face rejection, so he killed them. It’s fucking sick.”
You roll your shoulders and look up at the ceiling. “Am I being too hasty? It just feels right, like … like these girls are cheering for me and telling me I’m right.”
The door shuts behind Hyunjin. He weighs his words carefully and walks up to his jacket, grabbing it off the back of the chair he sat in before. 
Those perfectly polished dress shoes click on the floor. It echoes off of each wall. 
“There’s one thing I’ve always lacked as a detective.” He folds the trench coat over his arm and walks up to you. “It makes me so mad that I don’t have this, it would help with so many of my cases.”
You watch him warily. There’s a sad smile on his face as he takes in your frazzled mood. 
You’ve never worn your heart this freely on your sleeve before. 
With a sigh, he reaches up and taps on your forehead. “Women’s intuition.”
For the first time, you have no response for him. 
As far as Hwang Hyunjin goes, this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to a compliment from him, or even an acknowledgment of your skill. 
Your lips stay sealed. 
“I’ve never not trusted your judgment. Ever. If your gut is saying this is the guy, then this is him. When have you ever been wrong?”
Your mind is reeling. 
Did he just compliment you again?
Heat rises to your cheeks. Your stomach flips. 
“I’ve always been so jealous of that. You just… know.” He shrugs and looks around, a small tinge of pink on his cheeks. “When the pieces finally fit into place you’re fucking brilliant at solving everything so fast. What’s that about?”
A sad laugh tumbles from his lips.
“This case would’ve taken any other team months to solve, but you and I did it in two weeks. Maybe we should work together more often, Y/N.”
There’s no way he said that. 
He’s jealous of you?
And did he just call you by your first name?
He stares down at you for a couple of seconds. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could swear that his eyes flickered to your lips more than once. 
“Come on then, we have an interrogation to do.”
Hyunjin turns on a heel and makes his way to the door. 
“Thank you,” you call after him. Hyunjin’s hand pauses on the door handle. “Thank you, Hyunjin.”
He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t acknowledge what you did— the favor you just returned. 
He doesn’t speak on the new level that your relationship just crossed nor the mutual respect that you two just shared. 
Nothing. 
You don’t even get to see his face when you call him by his name for the first time. 
But, by the way his shoulders square and his head twitches, you know it affected him. 
Wordlessly, he nods and opens the door, leaving it open for you as he walks into the hallway and towards the interrogation rooms. 
Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department, considers you to be on the same level as him. Who would’ve thought? 
Maybe he’s right, maybe you should work together more often. 
---------------------------------------
Hours and hours and hours have gone by. 
Hyunjin as well as other officers have been grilling Eric for what seems like days. But it’s only been about 18 hours. 
The bags under your eyes feel like bruises. 
Three empty coffee cups and one full one sit next to you as you stare through the one way glass. 
Hyunjin’s pacing around the room with his hands in his pockets. 
His tie is loose around his neck, the sleeves of his button up are rolled up, his hair is tied up out of his eyes. 
He’s been trying to go the good cop route for the last 3 hours. Slowly, that act has been dropping; Eric is getting on his last nerve. 
You both let Eric sit in the interrogation room by himself for 4 hours leading up to this to get to his head. It didn’t seem to work. You can only legally keep him here for forty-eight hours.
If anything, he’s only gotten more agitated. 
Hyunjin walks up behind Eric, he reaches one arm down to the table. 
“You’ve never seen any of these girls before?” Hyunjin slides a few photos towards them on the table. 
“No.” Eric answers quickly. “I’ve already told you that.”
“I just think it’s interesting you’ve never seen any of them, Mr. Rowan. You tutored them. All of them.”
“Do you realize how many students I tutor on a daily basis?”
Hyunjin barks a laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn't realize you were that popular.” He comes around the table and opens a file. 
Hyunjin pulls out one specific page, and reads off the top. “Actually, here we go, I know exactly how many students you tutor. Let’s see here: ‘Eric Rowan works two days a week in the tutoring center, Tuesdays and Thursdays.’ Last week you tutored 3 students total, and they were all returning students— how interesting!”
He slams the paper down onto the metal table. Eric jumps. 
“Only three returning faces to your tutoring session, Mr. Popular. And here’s the funniest thing;  I’ve noticed that there’s no women on this list. Weird.”
Eric’s eye twitches. 
Hyunjin takes a seat across the table, folding his hands on top of a notebook. 
“Have you ever had a girlfriend before, Mr. Rowan?”
Eric scoffs and shifts around in his seat. 
Your interest is piqued, you sit up straight in your chair and lean forward. 
Why did he get so nervous all of a sudden? 
Eric picks up the cup of water that he requested and takes a long sip from it. Hyunjin waits patiently. 
“I don’t see how that’s relevant to anything, Detective.”
Hyunjin laughs and opens the file. “See, I thought you would say that. My chief also asked the same question.”
Said Chief, who has been standing behind you for the better part of 5 hours, most certainly did not ask that. Chief Bang snorts quietly at the lie. 
“But you know what, we detectives have to do our due diligence.” Hyunjin opens a file and slides a large printed photo out across the table. “Recognize her?”
So many different emotions fly across Eric’s face: anger, loss, betrayal, depression, rage, hurt. The muscles in his face dance as they try to settle on an expression. 
“No,” he grits out. 
An obvious lie.
“Interesting.” Hyunjin pulls out another photo and slides it across. “Because just by taking a quick look at your social media profile, I can see how this girl was your girlfriend . Look, here you are together! Leah Miller. Pretty girl.”
Eric says nothing. He can’t look away from the picture. 
“Most interesting part I noticed was that you haven’t posted anything with her in about a year. What happened? Breakup? They suck, hm? Sorry, should I have said ‘ex-girlfriend’ before? My bad.”
You can’t help but smile. Hyunjin’s always been brilliant in interrogations, you can’t deny that. You’ve only ever heard rumors about how he is on the other side of the one-way mirror. 
Sneaking a peek at the picture of Leah Miller, your eyes widen. She fit the profile: long, blonde hair and sweet, light eyes.
More pieces fall into place. 
“It’s none of your business,” Eric grits out between clenched teeth. 
Chief Bang shifts behind you and grabs the back of your chair. Obviously he senses it too, a confession, a slip up, anything. It’s showing its head. 
“What? What are you saying?” Hyunjin laughs. “It’s exactly my business. That’s quite literally what my job is, you know, to know your business. It’s the same reason I know that you asked out Andrea Bowman during one of your tutoring sessions and she rejected you.”
“That’s not—“
“Oh, sorry, is that not how it happened? Did you maybe try and make a move on her and she rejected you that way? Maybe you put an arm around the back of her chair? Classic.”
“I-I didn’t—“
“Not that one? Understood.” Hyunjin nods and flips through the pictures on the table. “Oh, did you use the old ‘give me your number just in case you need more help’ trick? Used that on a girl in college, myself. Of course, it worked for me.” He winks at Eric.
Eric is fuming, his face is turning redder and redder, the vein in his forehead is popping. 
“Here we go,” Chief Bang whispers under his breath. 
Your mouth is agape, you’ve heard about Hyunjin in interrogation rooms before but you’ve never actually seen it. 
It’s like he’s dancing with fire so beautifully. He’s twirling a flaming sword with a silver tongue. 
“I think Andrea rejected you and then when she never came back for more tutoring, you lost it. You looked up her campus address in the internal systems, because guess what, you have access to that as a tutor, and you went to her dorm room, and you killed her.”
“Wh-What? You’re way off base here, Detective.” Eric stutters, his eye twitches again, his leg starts bouncing under the table. 
He pulls on the cuffs keeping him to the table. 
Hyunjin you’re so close, come on, come on. 
“Funny!” Hyunjin exclaims and slides another piece of paper across the table. “Here’s the search history in the library computer with your login credentials!”
Eric gapes, his mouth opens and closes several times.
“You know what, maybe you didn’t go to Andrea’s dorm with the idea of killing her. Maybe it was a grand romantic gesture, yeah, that seems more like it— flowers and everything.” He slams another picture on the table. 
A bouquet of flowers was found at Andrea’s crime scene. 
“You presented her with the flowers. And she rejected you. Again. ” Hyunjin’s voice is getting louder and louder, crescendoing with Eric’s anger and heart rate. 
Your breathing picks up. Both you and Chief Bang stop moving. 
“Stop,” Eric suddenly pleads. His hands shoot up to cover his ears but they’re stopped by the cuffs. 
The metal clinks and pulls, they dig into his wrists. 
“She rejected you twice! To your face! But you couldn’t take that for an answer. God, why did she do that? Why did she turn you down when you were just trying to be nice? ”
Hyunjin stands up slowly from the table, towering over Eric. 
“She was just like her, she was just like that bitch that broke up with you? She tore your heart out and spit on it! She was no better than Leah! So, you knocked her out and you tied her down to her own fucking bed in hopes that she would just hear you out!”
“Stop, stop!”
“Because maybe if she just listened she would understand that you’re just a genuine guy trying to be a good boyfriend to someone! You’re so nice, you’re such a good guy, no one likes good guys anymore, huh? And, of course Leah didn’t see that either!”
“ Stop! ”
“She tried to scream for help, so you killed her. You slit her throat without a second fucking thought for anything! And it felt so fucking good, didnt it? It felt so good to finally take power back from her? So, you didn’t stop.”
Tears spring from Eric’s eyes as he squints them shut, his body physically curling in on itself. He writhes around, unable to get far because of the handcuffs. 
“So you kept going, and you went after women who looked just like Leah. And it felt amazing because every single time you could picture her face as you slit their throats. Each and every one of them babbling for mercy, crying out for their mothers, to only choke on their own blood—“
“ FINE! ” Eric screams, slamming his fists on the table. “I killed them. I killed each and every one of the fucking bitches. And I fucking wish I could have killed her too!”
The sudden seemingly endless torrent of sentences comes to a screaming halt. 
Hyunjin sits down on his chair once more with a huff. 
And just like you did yesterday, he leans back on his chair and knocks once on the window. 
It takes you a second to find your voice after witnessing the most amazing, jaw dropping interrogation you’ve ever seen. 
“G-Got it!” You say loudly through the glass. “We got it. Oh my god!” You stand up quickly from the chair and turn around to Chief Bang, who has an equally surprised expression. “We got it! ”
He stutters for a moment and shakes his head to clear his mind before speed walking out of the side room to get officers to arrest Eric. 
Eric Rowan, who is now pathetically sobbing in his chair. 
Eric Rowan who signed his confession with the opposite hand that he’d been using to drink his water. 
Eric Rowan who is ambidextrous.
---------------------------------------
It’s so weird to see your kitchen island devoid of files and endless stacks of papers after the last few weeks. 
Eric was taken in for booking. Your job was over. 
Well, it was over for now. Chief Bang gave you and Hyunjin a week off and then you’re due back in the office for the next case. 
Plus, you’ll have to be at Eric Rowan’s trial since you were the lead detective on the case. 
So maybe ‘over’ isn’t the best way to describe it. 
More soft music plays from your speaker as you clean up the rest of the files. A large t-shirt draped over your body, it practically covers the shorts you have underneath. 
There’s a couple knocks on your door. His knocks are so distinct. You’ve gotten so used to them over the past two weeks. 
“Come in, Hwang!” you call out. 
The door opens and shuts. 
“I think I left a few things here,” he says kicking his shoes off in your entryway.
You hum in response, gathering up files to stack them neatly. 
His soft footsteps pad up behind you. 
“I don’t think I ever saw your countertop, is this granite?” he teases over your shoulder. 
You snort a laugh. “Yeah, it is. Came with the place, so don’t ask any more questions.”
Putting the stack down, you turn around and come nose to nose with Hyunjin. He is so much closer than you thought he was. 
You jump slightly and back up a bit, your hips hitting the countertop. 
Hyunjin doesn’t move. 
“I didn’t get to see you after the interrogation,” he says with a quieter voice. 
Not able to hold his searing gaze, you look off to the side and cross your arms over your chest. 
“Yeah, well, you know how the hustle and bustle can wrap someone up after a case closes. Next thing I knew, Bang was sending me home.”
Hyunjin takes a half step closer to you. “What did you think?”
“Hm?”
“What did you think of the interrogation?”
So many sarcastic, sharp retorts die on your tongue when you remember the conversation that the two of you had earlier. 
But still, complimenting him was about as easy as petting a cactus. 
“I told you I’m not going to stroke your ego, Hwang.”
He takes another step towards you, both of his arms come up to cage you to the counter. 
Heat rises on your cheeks more and more with each passing second. You refuse to meet his eyeline. 
“Humor me, L/N. How was my performance today?”
Tonguing your cheek, you roll your eyes. Your heart rate picks up at his proximity. Why does he smell so good?
The last time the both of you had an opportunity to shower was two days ago. 
He still smells like aftershave and expensive cologne. 
“It was good, okay? You got the guy.”
“ We got the guy, L/N.”
“Yeah, yeah, golden boy, we got him.”
He knows your sarcasm is empty. Just by looking at your flushed face he can tell you don’t mean it. 
“Come on now, L/N.” Long, lithe fingers grip your chin and turn your head towards him. “You can do better than that.”
Your jaw clenches. Arousal shoots down your spine like an electric shock. 
Fuck. 
Closer and closer his alarmingly handsome face inches closer to yours. The beauty mark under his eye seems more prominent than ever. 
His mind is one of a brilliant detective, but god, that face. He should’ve been a model. 
You bite the inside of your cheek and when you try to look away from his deep eyes, the grin on your jaw tightens. 
“Come on, L/N.” He smirks. “Tell me how good I did today. Say it.”
The brat inside you decides to surface. So, he wants to go this route, hm? “Why do you need me to say it so badly, Hwang? Everyone else in the department is so far up your ass, they can wear you like a hat.”
He rolls his eyes, his body pressing against you entirely. Your arms uncross and you reach back to grip the countertop next to his hands. 
It shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You should be shoving him away, slapping him across the face, spitting on his shoes. But instead you relish in the feeling. 
“Yes. But they’re not you. ”
Your eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitches. He knows he has you in the palm of his hand. He just needs to break you more. 
But does he really?
Finally, he brings his lips closer and closer to yours. He pauses right before he makes contact, giving you a chance to say no. 
Nothing of the sort tumbles out. 
The first kiss he presses to your lips is nothing short of devouring. 
His soft, plush lips consume yours like he’s a starving man at a feast. You meet his enthusiasm with fervor.
Hyunjin’s head tilts to get better access to your mouth. His eyebrows pull together in concentration, he almost looks like he’s in pain. 
The fingers on your chin move down to your neck, he wraps his hand around it, thumbs on top of your pulse point, but he doesn’t squeeze. 
Your hands tentatively reach for him, grabbing at his dress shirt and tie, pulling him even closer to you. 
A small moan comes from the base of his throat and through his nose. Hyunjin’s other hand grabs your hip possessively. 
“Say it, L/N,” he hushes between kisses, completely out of breath. “Tell me how good I am.”
How is it that he has this sort of possessive grip on you and yet he’s putting the ball in your court?
A small boost of confidence courses through your veins. 
“Can’t you just admit it already?” he adds.
Smirking, you say nothing. One of your hands threads into his long hair and yanks his face back to yours for another bruising kiss. 
He huffs through his nose once more, but kisses you nonetheless. 
Twirl after twirl of his tie around your hand tightens your grip. With the last tug, Hyunjin moans once more into your mouth. The hand on your throat squeezes a bit.
“L/N,” he pleads again against your lips. 
You tug hard on his tie. Hyunjin loses his balance slightly, his knuckles turning white from grabbing your countertop so tight. 
Bringing your lips to his ear, you blow hot air on the sensitive skin first. He shivers against your hot body. 
At the same time, your bare foot travels up the back of his clothed calf, your thigh brushing against his hip.
“If you want my approval that badly, you’re going to have to earn it.”
Hyunjin makes a choked moan, “Fuck,” he whispers under his breath. The hand on your hip tightens. The fingers wrapped around your throat twitch. 
“How does that sound, Hwang? You be good to me and I’ll let you know how well you’re doing.” You roll your hips against his.
Your words have an obvious effect on him, the hardness that presses to your leg says it all. 
Hyunjins lips drop down to your neck, he bites the soft skin where it meets your shoulder. “Fucking hell, L/N, don’t play hard to get.” 
Humming, you roll your head back, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on your skin. “I’m not playing anything, I already told you how to get what you want.”
Licking and sucking his way down your neck, his teeth nip at your exposed collarbone. The hand on your throat slides backwards and into the hair on the back of your head. 
Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth to stop a moan from leaking out. You pull Hyunjin’s tie to keep his face there.
“Just like that, golden boy, your mouth feels so good.”
His hips involuntarily buck into yours at the praise, he whimpers against your skin. “ Shit, ” he curses into your neck with a hot exhale. 
You wrap your entire leg around his waist and roll against him more. His mouth stutters, but afterwards he sucks hard . A bright purple hickey already surfaces when he detaches. 
“L/N,” he murmurs into your neck. You hum in response. “Can I take this off?” He tugs at your shirt.
You smirk. “You can.”
When your hand unwinds from his tie, Hyunjin backs off of you. His face is already so fucked out; eyes are half-lidded and hazy, his lips are so puffy and swollen, spit glistening off them in the soft kitchen light. 
From all your pulling, Hyunjin’s hair is all askew and coming out of its usual ponytail.
He wastes no time, grabbing the hem of your t-shirt and yanking it over your head, he throws it behind him carelessly. His eyes light up at the sight of your bare chest, tongue poking out to lick his already slick lips.
You chuckle.
“You gunna touch me or what?” you tease. “Or maybe you don’t want it that badly.”
Hyunjin’s jaw clenches and he meets your eyes. The look he’s giving you is dangerous.
He huffs once and grabs your waist tightly, lifting you up off the ground and sitting you on the cold granite. The sharp temperature change against your flushed skin makes you shiver. 
Hyunjin parts your legs and stands between your thighs, his head dips down and envelopes one nipple in his mouth.
“Fuck!” you cry out, grabbing a fist full of his hair.
One of Hyunjin’s hands trails up your leg to grab at your exposed thigh while the other comes up to play with your other perky bud.
His eyes shut in his own pleasure. That tongue is absolutely relentless, licking circles around your nipple to flick over it a few times and then sucking.
Your toes are already curling, legs wrapping around his waist to get him closer to you.
“How about now, L/N?” his hoarse voice whines against your spit covered chest. “Is this good for you? Does it feel good?”
The more he talks, the more you can’t tell if he’s teasing you or genuinely asking for his own sanity. 
“It feels fucking amazing, Hwang, keep– shit – keep going.”
Hyunjin takes in a shaky breath and switches sides, your fingers yank on his hair and he whines again around your nipple. 
You let him continue for a while, relishing in the feeling of his spit dripping down your chest and onto your navel. The wet licks and sucks bouncing off the walls combined with his own small whines and your loud moans. 
Roll after roll of your hips grinds against his hard tent in his dress pants. After a few minutes, your hips seem to have a mind of their own, your soaking wet cunt seeking friction against anything to satiate the need for contact. 
The more he licks at your chest, the more Hwang Hyunjin continues to drive you insane. 
“H-Hwang,” you pull his attention. His eyebrows furrow as you yank him away from your purple marked chest. 
When he finally detaches, he looks up at you, panting. 
“Touch me, touch me, please . I can’t fucking take it.”
His shoulders curl forward like you knocked the air out of him. 
With more strength than you thought he had, he scoops you up and wraps your legs around his waist while smashing your lips together again. 
You cling onto him for dear life while letting your tongues slide over one another. 
“Hah,” you pant out in between kisses. “You’re doing so fucking well.”
He whines.
“Could’ve made me cum with just that tongue on my tits. Such a shame.”
Hyunjin drops your body onto the couch without a warning. You squeal and bounce on the soft cushions. 
“Hwang–” your voice dies in your throat when you catch the sight of him standing on the other side of the sofa arm. 
The change in his demeanor gives you whiplash. 
His eyes are dark, almost black. His chest is heaving with heavy pants. Those long fingers are tugging at his tie, until it's loose enough for him to rip off his neck. 
Your knees tuck up a bit towards your chest as you watch him with wide eyes like prey. 
Hyunjin reaches down and snatches your ankle, he tugs on it harshly. You yelp as you’re dragged forward into a lying position.
Coming around the sofa, he swings one knee over you to straddle your hips. One by one he begins to unbutton his dress shirt, never once breaking eye contact.
Each sliver of skin that is revealed is devoured by your eyes greedily. Never once has he so much as undone the top button on his collar at work.
Shamelessly, you rake in his athletic build. 
“You want to cum with just my tongue? Okay, L/N, I can do that.”
Your heart thuds in your chest. 
He shrugs his shirt off and drops it to the floor. Hands grab at the waistband of your shorts and yank them off with your panties in one swoop. Another article of clothing to hit the floor.
The cold air against your soaking wet folds makes you hiss slightly. 
Hyunjin stares down at your arousal, biting his bottom lip. Lower and lower he descends until you can feel his heavy exhales against your cunt.
He pushes your thighs apart, putting one over his shoulder, your heel settles into the dip of his spine. He’s smirking the entire time.
Finally, he tears his eyes away from your folds to look you right in the eye.
Your jaw clenches and you watch as he licks all the way from your entrance, up to your clit, circles around it to go back down to your entrance again.
An immediate shockwave of pleasure shoots through your body down to your toes. You toss your head back with your mouth agape, a silent scream stretching your lips.
Hyunjin keens at your reaction, doing the same maneuver again before focusing his attention on creating the most sinful figure eights with his tongue.
Your hand flies down to grab at his hair, shoulders arching off the couch. “Shit, shit, H-Hwang, feels so– hah – s-so good.”
He moans into you, the vibrations go right through you. 
With your heel on his back, you can feel how his back curves as his hips rut into the couch underneath him to relieve some pressure off his aching cock. 
Praises fall from your lips like water falling over rock. Each one makes Hyunjin whine and kick it up a notch. 
“That fu- uh -cking silver tongue, holy shit .”
Hyunjin moans loudly, he grabs both of your hips, nails digging into your skin with deep scratches. It only makes you cry out louder, pulling on his hair even harder. 
The tie in his hair comes out completely. You toss it away from you and gather up his hair in between your fingers to keep it out of his eyes. It feels like silk.
A coil within you begins winding tighter and tighter. The more he licks and sucks, the higher your cries get and the tighter your abdomen feels.
“Feels so good, it feels fucking amazing ! S-So close! Shit, please make me cum, please, shit!”
Each word makes Hyunjin sutter and moan into your folds, his eyebrows pulled like he’s in pain. Harder and harder he ruts into your sofa, his nails digging into you so much you think he might draw blood.
It’s taking every ounce of his will not to spill out in his pants at your praise. At your begging .
One of his hands comes up and kneads at your chest. His thumb rubs over your nipple a few times and that’s all it takes for the band within you to finally snap.
Your orgasm washes over you so hard it’s like being hit by a bus. 
With a silent cry, your entire body tenses up. Hyunjin’s movements slow down, but he still coaxes you through your climax with that skilled tongue of his. 
He hums into your folds, licking up every last drop of your juices.
You come down from your high slowly, chest heaving up and down, every exhale is paired with a moan. Shockwaves still ripple through your thighs.
Hyunjin’s eyes open and he stares at you, his mouth going over to bite your inner thigh. You squeal and squirm.
Slowly, like a lion, he gets up and crawls over your form, keeping eye contact. Once he’s close enough, he captures your lips greedily. Your arousal is still all over his tongue. It’s swapped between the two of you with your spit. 
Your hands reach down and fumble with his belt buckle. Hyunjin makes no move to stop you, instead, he pushes you further.
“Look at that,” he pants, looking down at your fumbling hands. “So desperate for my cock, huh, L/N?”
Your eyebrow twitches. You undo the buckle and reach down to grab his rock hard erection through his pants.
Hyunjin’s elbows buckle at your touch and he grunts, squinting his eyes shut.
“All talk, aren’t you? Once I touch you, you crumble .”
“Shit!” His eyes snap open and he bucks into your hand. “Because– ugh –, like I said, it’s you . Fuck ,” he moans when you squeeze him again over his pants.
“Keep going,” you tease. “Keep going and I’ll keep stroking this fucking monster cock you keep tucked in these pressed dress pants of yours.”
He exhales shakily while you unbutton his trousers. 
“When were you ever going to fucking– agh – realize that you drive me fucking insane, L/N?” His eyes start to unfocus when you push down the waistband of his pants and boxers down his thighs.
Fucking hell . Has he always been packing this?
“God damn, Hwang.” Your hand runs up his length. Hyunjin shudders and closes his eyes. Your touch is so featherlight he thinks he’s going insane. 
His eyebrows twitch and hips buck forward to try and reach your touch. 
“I’m not hearing a lot of talking.” You lean up and attach your lips to his neck, continuing to only trail the gentlest of touches up and down his throbbing cock. 
The head is red and angry and weeping precum.
His body trembles. “ Shit – I wanted you for so long, L/N. You drive me– fuck – insane. Every single fucking day I did whatever it fucking took to get your attention.”
Finally, your hand wraps around his length tightly and you start pumping very slowly. The long, pathetic moan that tumbles from Hyunjin’s lips is something of sin.
He sounds so relieved yet even more aroused at the same time. 
You continue to suck your own marks onto his perfect skin. Sweat drips down the side of his face and down his now slick back. 
“ Ughhh – L-L/N…” He buries his face in the crook of your neck. 
Your hand stops moving when he stops talking.
He cries out into your neck, hips frantically bucking into your touch to chase it. You only chuckle in response. 
“ Please! ” He whimpers. 
“Keep going then, golden boy.” You suck a sensitive spot underneath his ear. 
Another stutter of his hips.
“I begged the chief to put me on your case!”
Your pumping picks up speed again, his entire body rolls into yours. You grip him tighter and jerk him faster.
“I said– ah – I would do whatever case he wanted next if he– ffuuck – let me work with you on this one– oh my god! And I still would, I would do whatever– mmmph – case I need to to fucking work with you every day. Agh! ”
Despite your outwards nonchalant expression, on the inside, his words are fucking killing you. The throb in your cunt that was satiated moments ago comes back with a vengeance. 
To hear Hwang Hyunjin at your mercy is going straight to your core. Each noise he makes goes straight to your pussy.
“God, fuck , L/N, I-I’m close. Please, god , shit.”
After a few more pumps, you stop, taking your hand away completely. Hyunjin cries into the crook of your neck again, his body rolling and rutting the air at the loss of contact. 
“Please, why, fucking hell , I was so close!”
You grab the hair on the back of his head and yank his head up to look down at you. His eyes are cloudy, ears and cheeks bright red. Sweat drips down the side of his face and over his sharp cheekbones and jawline.
“Wouldn’t you rather fuck me?”
His face twists up with another moan. 
Hyunjin dives down and captures your lips in the sloppiest kiss of the night. He’s messy and desperate the longer he kisses you. 
While trying to stay attached to your lips, Hyunjin fumbles around to kick off his pants and boxers.
Both of you finally naked together, he grabs his cock in his fist.
“I-I’m not going to last–”
You cut him off with a sharp tug to his hair. “Fuck me, golden boy, don’t you think you deserve it after today?”
His eyes practically roll back in his head.
As soon as he’s lined up with your entrance, Hyunjin slides into you slowly. Inch by inch you’re stretched open,
He might not be thick but god, he is long .
With his mouth on yours, he swallows each moan and cry of pleasure. Without wasting any amount of time, he pulls out to slam back into you.
Both of you moan out together.
Your arm wraps around his neck. He rests his weight on one elbow and the other wraps around your shoulders to hug you close to him. His hand splays out between your shoulder blades to keep you anchored against his sweat slicked chest.
The skin to skin contact sends both of you wild.
Over and over again his hips undulate to thrust into you in the most delicious way. The angle of his hips brushes his pelvic bone against your clit with each slam against you. 
“You feel so fucking good,” you whine into his ear.
Hyunjin’s next thrust hits a bit harder. If praise makes him fuck you harder, then so be it.
“God, your cock is amazing.” Harder. “Hitting me just right.” Harder. “Never knew you would feel this fucking good.”
With his mouth on your neck, he leaves sloppy hickeys wherever he can reach. His pants fill the room and mix with your whines.
His head suddenly dips down to take your nipple into his mouth once more. You keen and toss your head back, hips canting up. The new angle has his cock slam right into your g-spot.
A loud scream tears from your lips. Hyunjin immediately picks up on this and picks up the pace, making sure he hits that spot every time.
If you thought your first orgasm had a sudden build up, it’s nothing compared to this one. There’s a sudden pressure increasing in your lower stomach.
“Fuck!” Thrust . “So good!” Thrust. “Oh my god!” 
Praises and noises fall from you, you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore. The pleasure has your mind in the clouds.
“Y/N,” the sudden use of your name grabs your attention. Hyunjin comes up over your face with a pleasure twisted face. 
“Say it, please, please , I’m fucking begging you , please, say it.” 
Your eyebrows pull together, mouth still hanging open. What does he want you to say that you haven’t said already?
“ My name. Say it, please, please, please, please–”
Oh, fuck.
You smirk and watch as the desperation drives him wild. Even in the deepest throes of pleasure, you string him along for a few more seconds as you approach the edge.
Closer and closer you come to the edge.
He whines, begging louder and louder as his own climax creeps up on him, the muscles in his body tightening more and more. 
He needs it so bad. 
“Y/N! Please! ”
Just as you’re about to tumble over, your mouth stretches open.
“Fuck, Hyunjin! ”
The loudest moan you’ve ever heard from a man comes falling out of his mouth as he buries his face into your neck. Hot, sticky warmth shoots within you in long, drawn out spurts that match with Hyunjin’s whines and groans. 
His hips stutter for another twenty seconds before his moans finally calm down. 
Both of you hold onto each other tightly, heaving heavy inhales and exhales to catch your breath.
Absent-mindedly, your hand begins to rub up and down Hyunjin’s clammy back, drawing small circles and lines onto his skin.
He hums into your neck and holds you closer for a moment before collapsing onto the couch on top of you.
Surprisingly, his weight on top of you doesn’t seem to phase you; instead it brings the same comfort as a weighted blanket.
After a few more minutes of you silently rubbing his back, Hyunjin begins to lazily press kisses onto your bruise covered chest, paying extra attention to your collarbones. 
The kisses are soft and sweet, nothing like the lust coated ones from before. 
“Did you mean it?” you ask him quietly.
He pauses his kisses only to answer you. “Mean what?” He starts kissing you more.
“That you asked Bang to work on the case.”
He chuckles against your neck, his hair tickling your skin. “Oh, yeah. It took entirely too much convincing.”
You laugh with him and keep him close to your body.
In the back of your mind, you know you should get up, that he should pull out and the two of you should shower and drink water, but you can’t seem to distance yourself from him.
There’s no harm in sitting there for a while anyway.
Hyunjin hums into your neck again, “Thank god we have the week off.”
You couldn’t agree more.
1K notes · View notes
lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 6 months ago
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Vampires of a Feather | Yandere Pomefiore
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Think about modern life no magic
And you own an apartment with your loving and adoring boyfriend Rook
Unbeknownst to you 
On one of his oh so familiar nature strolls Rook found himself poking around an abandoned mansion
He won’t bother to say anything about the lovely boy he finds resting in there almost certain a dead body
Such luscious pale skin, such dark lipstick
He feels such beauty deserves a kiss even if their beyond the grave
But he won’t tell you that 
He’ll return home and kiss you as deeply as he does every time he sees you
You two will go on eventually settling down to have dinner 
When you hear something bang against the door
“Uh don’t worry babe, I’ll get it!”
“Be back soon beau trésor!”
Thinking it’s a failed knock you head for the door to open it 
Something small but sturdy whizzes past you 
Ricochetting off the walls and into some boxes you hadn’t unpacked
“Oh my Gosh Rook!”
“Oh my!”
“Ah Rook don’t go over there I think it’s a bat!”
“Oh how cute!”
“Not cute they have rabies!”
Despite your protests he’s forging on with you worriedly at his back
Come to find it’s that fellow from the abandoned mansion
And his name is Epel
“Oi what’s this weird place and why am I around a bunch of humans?”
“It’s a man!”
“Si magnifique! The joli monsieur from the house!”
“From the house?!” 
After explaining himself Epel explains how he a vampire found himself skyrockettng into your home
He unfortunately mistook the pheromone that would have led him to his pod for Rook’s scent
Thus he ended up here
“Vampires travel in pods?”
“Yes that’s how-”
“Like dolphins?”
“I guess…”
“That’s kind of cute!”
“No it’s not!”
“I agree mon chéri!” 
“IT IS NOT CUTE!”
From then on you and Rook help Epel blend in to the modern world
“Come on Epel no need to freak out!”
“No! Keep that terrible creation away from me!”
“It’s only a camera!”
“Come Pomme de poison! It’s a glorious tool (Y/n) and I are intimately close with!”
Slowly getting to a comfortable place where you both share your blood with him within reason
“Mmm Epel?”
“Yes (Y/n)?”
“Do you really need to lick my neck so many times? I’m ready for you to just get it over with.”
“Shhh let me enjoy this! Let me take my time.”
“Well okay…but does Rook have to sit so closely?”
“Don’t mind me, my Love! I’m only enjoying the enticing dance of life happening on your lovely neck!”
It’s only until a while of the domestic life along side him that you come to a sad realization
“Rook…he can’t stay with us.”
“Where is this coming from, mon chéri?”
“I was thinking…Epel’s going to outlive us.”
“Darling.”
“Then he’ll be all alone.”
“(Y/n).”
“We have to help him find his pod.”
Rook’s face drops every time you give him that look
Spending your free time devoting to properties his pod might own 
Your acutely aware that he’s not as enthusiastic 
But this isn’t about him 
This is about Epel
Who in the mean time doesn’t mind finding his pod 
But he doesn’t really care
“I’ve found two humans I like quite a lot. Besides I don’t really care about my pod especially since they’e a bunch of stuffy snobs. But it (Y/n) wants to find them I don’t mind.”
By the time Rook actually gets this from Epel you’ve already sent a letter to the one you’ve tracked down
“(Y/n)--!”
“--We have something to tell you!”
“Oh! Welcome home you two! You’re just in time to meet the vampire I found that's from your pod!”
“Oh no!”
“Wow!”
“Hello again Epel, I’ve come to take you home.”
It’s Vil Schoenheit a reclusive idol that’s supposed to be an old decrepit man you were sending letters with 
But alas he was a vampire 
And a very powerful one at that
He immediately begins critiquing Epel and subsequently Rook
“But at the very least you’ve found some decent hosts…for humans at least.”
“Hey! Don’t talk down to my humans!”
“Your anger is just as unbecoming on you as it was all those centuries ago.”
Ultimately it’s decided by Vil that Epel will be going with him 
To the country he quietly runs, where hundreds of lesser vampires serve him loyally
“I-I’m not going without Rook and (Y/n)!”
“Wait what–”
“C'est mieux que de te traquer!”
“Ugh I understand (Y/n) but this other one I’m not sure.”
Vil since he received your letter had been intrigued
A mere human who was so straight-forward with something many would call conspiracy 
Not to mention he’s absolutely enamored with ‘fixing’ you before properly elevating your status
To a vampire of course
He’ll find out he likes Rook too
but that's later
Until then he’ll just drag him along until Epel looses interest
With a snap of his finger tons of other vampires arrive taking your stuff and loading it in trucks
“Wait hold on! What are you doing?!”
“Do you have problems listening (Y/n)? You are coming with us.”
“But we can’t–We’d never live as long as you, it’s just not right!”
“As humans you won’t but once you’re a vampire that will change.”
“But I don’t want to be–”
“Hush. Rook if you’re good for anything you’ll help (Y/n) pack their bags.”
“Yes my Queen!”
“Rook!!”
No sooner than you could register 
You’re unofficially decided as one of the newest members of their pod
You’d like to think you weren’t alone in this confusion
But Rook doesn’t seem to have any of the same concerns you have
“Oh Epel isn’t this perfect! We’ll become members of your pod with the Queen!”
“Ugh! Not you too! I’ve got to make sure he doesn’t ruin you and (Y/n) completely.”
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crucialplayer · 1 year ago
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Thoughts on moon placements
!! everything is based purely on my experiences with signs, written with no other purpose than to share my observations and be unserious.
Aries moon. Will ask you a question and leave midway through u answering it just cuz little men in their head pushed a new button on the emotions console, inside out style. If they feel some type of way be sure everyone in the room will also feel it. Great at destroying social harmony. 
Taurus moon. Brick wall banging against which you risk irrevocably damaging ur head. Usually deal with stress or any negative emotions by falling asleep. Insanely bad at moving on from anything.
Gemini moon. Find an outlet for your thoughts and ideas and it better not be that one poor friend that is too nice to stop your rambling. Anxiety ride from the moment they wake up till the moment they fall asleep if they actually manage to. Never have a firm stance on anything. 
Cancer moon. If they feel sad they can suck the life out of the air. Feel a lot and usually stop at that. Somehow kinda bad at reflecting. Some of them could really benefit from rationalizing their emotions. Like to reminisce a lot. 
Leo moon. Every day is a Miss Universe contest. Don't understand the concept of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. Live life like they’re being filmed for a biopic about them. Get offended easily. Having too many ego deaths on a daily basis bless them. 
Virgo moon. Invented anxiety and hating things. Genuinely think they are smarter than everybody but like to ignore the fact that they’ve been stuck in the loop of the same problems for a couple of years. VEry unstable self-esteem. 
Libra moon. Appear very carefree to the point of care actually not existing in their world I think. Like cute things and cute feelings. Dislike ugly things and ugly feelings. Shine best when surrounded by people and are needed by someone. 
Scorpio moon. If mood swings were a moon placement it’d be this one. Cutting ur hair at 3 am moon. Everything is profound and deeply personal. Identity crisis during a bus ride home. Being nonchalant is a hoax. 
Sagittarius moon. 3 minute emotional life cycle. Consider feeling down a random virus they caught somewhere and not a genuine state of being. Cure themself to the natural optimistic disposition by blowing up to someone’s face and proceeding to go with their day unbothered.   
Capricorn moon. Incapable of giving approval or being positive about anything. See three steps forward except only for the situations going wrong. Hence dissociate when they’re supposed to feel happy. The soul leaves their body when entrapped by loud people. 
Aquarius moon. Have ideas about feelings. When exposed to simple emotional stimuli fall into a theoretical spiral. Like to look for the signs and parallels. Without a social circle are like fish without water. 
Pisces moon. Kid lost in the mall vibe. Dreamed a more exciting life and are living it. Need alone time to survive but also kinda hate it?? Always care, would lose at the speed of light in the idgaf war. Do art please. 
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seattlesellie · 1 year ago
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imagine letting ellie hit for the first time and all she can see is your stuffed animals and plushies surrounding your bedd😭
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an: i know i wrote something similar to this a looooong while ago already but i really love it cause it’s so cute !! dni if you hate fun and if ur a plushie lover i love u a lot k bye 💗
warnings: ellies a little mean 🙄 but shes so cute.
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♡ firstly, you’d probably be mortified before you both tiptoed into your room. you’ve been sweetly (but fervently) making out on the living room couch for about ten whole minutes already. when ellie bounced you up on her thigh — and you moaned out her name, she huffed a breathy and teasing “oh, yeah?”, and you knew you were gone. you had constant battles within the realm of your head about needing to wait for “the right time”, but for some reason, with ellie, the right time seemed to be all the time. you’ve nearly let her have it in the backseat of her beat up honda, but you came to your senses pretty quickly (or you banged up your head on her inner roof which kind of made things awkward), and decided to actually wait.
♡ ellie pushes you up against the door, her knee snug between your thighs. you can feel her on your heat, and you’re pretty sure she can feel the actual heat on you. when ellie gives a slight swivel to the metal doorknob, you panic completely and shakily puff out a long held breath. “nono, my rooms… uh, untidy. s’messy, we can’t”, ellie raises a brow (and it tweaks a little because she’s just as nervous and it’s so cute), she grants you a little guileful smirk, “i don’t really care, so” — and as soon as she mutters that “so”, ellie opens the door and you shriek.
♡ at a full tilt, you try to cover up her eyes with your hands, shakily whispering “nonono, told you it’s messy, you’re being so rude!” but ellie — ever the speedster, pushes them off. when she’s faced with the hoard of plushies, sitting cozily on your bed like brave, plucky little soldiers, ellie seems entirely… amused. “so uhhh…” you stutter out, and ellie lets out an actual wheeze. she’s trying to cover up her stupid laugh and her smile by attempting to form it into a line, and you budge her forcefully on the shoulder and she barely even moves. “you didn’t tell me you had guests over, babe”, she turns to look at you — and you’re trying very hard not to throw an actual tantrum. you roll your eyes, and she takes your hands between her’s and gives them two chaste kisses. “okay, okay… didn’t mean to offend you…” she gulps down that damn laugh again, “just should’ve gave me a warning before i came in here trying to fuck y—“, your eyes nearly pop out of your head, “ellie!” you warn, and your voice goes nearly three octaves higher and now ellie’s fully just laughing at you. you furrow your brows and cock your head to the side. “well, technically, you’re the guest. they live here, so”
♡ “well… technically” ellie mimics and mocks, swallowing a small throaty giggle. you stare at her for a moment, giving her your best “i’m warning you — this is your last chance!” eyes, and ellie takes that warning very seriously, (because perhaps she’d been dying to fuck you), lifts her hands up in the air as if it’s to sign that she “gave up”, and shuts her mouth. “you done?” you question, raising your brows. “you’re the guest here, because they sleep with me every night, and you don’t” you smile impishly, followed by a sweet, satisfied little “hm”. ellie smirks and shakes her head, “every night, huh? you tryin’ to make me jealous?” then, she points at one of the plushies. “cause that little fucker over there is trying me, shit— i think his eye’s ripped off, what the actual fuck do you do with your dolls?!”
♡ out of amused anger, you try and push her up against the wall and she lets you. she hits it with a thud, and she rests her veiny hands on your waist and gives you a squeeze. you whimper, and she grabs your waist and pulls you closer. you try composing yourself, “y… you’re just jealous cause they get to sleep with me and you don’t”, but it all comes out of your lips too shaky and too sweet to be let known as teasing. ellie chuckles, and grabs the back of your neck. her lips are simply hovering over yours, and you let out a shaky breath and close your eyes. “open” she instructs, and you open them so slowly she nearly melts away like an ice cream cone in the middle of august. “just answer this one question i have, ‘kay?” she raps in her husky voice that makes you simply shudder. you hum, and she smirks. “do they fuck you every night too?”, she takes her bottom lip between her teeth and licks. not to seduce, simply as a casual gesture. nevertheless, it does seduce. “cause i might need to, uh…” and then — ellie places a small peck on your lips that you’re simply too eager not to try and follow up, but she meanly backs away. she chuckles and brings her head forward again, and lets out of a shaky breath. “might need to fuck them up, y’know? rip off their insides, stomp on ‘em, give them a nice little shake and —“ you cut her off with a whine, and her eyes nearly roll back. she takes your bottom lip between her top one and suckles and kisses you so deeply, “yeah fuck it, get on the bed, c’mon” — she pushes you forward between whimpers and more whines and you land with a soft thud, one of the plushies falls down on the floor.
♡ she parts your legs with her own, earning herself a sweet breathy gasp from you, and whilst she’s hanging messily off of the mattress— she kicks the plushie up on the bed, so it lands a mere centimeter from where it originally was. she can tease you all she wants, but it’s very soon that she memorizes all of their names. “do i need to cover up their eyes or are they used to this stuff?”, she knows they’re not used to it, at all actually, but you shake your head from side to side. she grabs both of your cheeks between her calloused fingers, gives them a forceful little squeeze that makes you moan, and looks up at one of them. “sorry for what you’re about to witness here, buddy”
♡ needless to say that ellie wasn’t a “guest” no more after that day.
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gladiatorcunt · 1 month ago
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- FEARS TO FATHOM | XIV.
i can thrill you more than any ghoul would ever dare try
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cw: kinktober prompt (roleplay), fem reader, early criminal minds, background hotch x reader x spencer (age gap, reader and spencer in their early-mid 20’s), knifeplay, degradation, murder fantasies, necrophilia fantasies, snuff films mention, blood play mentions, part of the roleplay is that hotch is your daddy (open to interpretation on the exact meaning), one mention of sadomasochism, knife (handle) fucking, dead dove do not eat, under negotiated kink but hints of you and spencer being secretly disturbed freaks, spencer referred to as ghostface for most of the fic, one face slap, fantasy fulfillment (bc spencer is a soft dom TO ME), off screen recording
please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai
kinktober 2024
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“Spence, come on, I’m gonna fall asleep by the time you get ready.” You shout at the closed bathroom door, if only to stave off your own nerves and lingering excitement.
The beginning of October was a snooze fest, you, Spencer, and Aaron had so much work, back to back cases that ran longer than anyone thought. Elle couldn’t stop ranting to you, and you to her, about how fucking aggravating things have been. None of you could even afford to make lazy plans for Halloween, the office already minimally decorated with tiny plastic pumpkins and purple-green-orange streamers here and there.
Until the angels granted you mercy, Aaron bargained some time off for the rest of the team in exchange for him spending hours eye level deep in paperwork.
You and Spencer each gave him a brisk but heartfelt thank you kiss before you headed home, to the house owned by a man who wouldn’t be accompanying his partners tonight.
Spencer calls back to you in between awkward bangs of his knees against the wall, shuffling his work clothes off and getting into the costume. “Just a second, you’d think you’d appreciate the lenghts i’m willing to go for you.”
You definitely do when after some more bumbling about he comes out in the ghostface costume, his gangly body in the long black fabric, holding the mask in his hand. Because of course you can’t do a more normal boss and secretary type situation, no, you have to have your boyfriend dress up like a horror movie serial killer, one of your favorites, and act like he’s gonna do the same to you.
You also wanted to see Spencer let go a little bit, be darker in ways your toes curl thinking about, Aaron was the one that bought the costume anyway. You were too shy to do anything beyond mentioning off handedly that it would be hot, and Spencer wanted you to squirm.
“Aaron waited 45 minutes for the employees at Spirit Halloween to find one in the back because they were sold out. The least we do is put it to good use since we’ll be working on the actual day.”
Your cold feet turn freezing, “This is so stupid and weird, we can just lie when he comes back and say we used it-”
Now here you are, breath caught in your chest as you gaze up at the handsome looming figure, Spencer huffs out a laugh at your shyness and flicks the hood up. He puts the mask on and fastens it around his head, now nothing but his gait and his voice signify the man behind the mask being your boyfriend. You can almost see his amused small smile, the knife he swiped from the kitchen block taps a tune along your jawbone, humming a note on every point of contact.
Your eyes flutter shut, setting the scene and dimming the lights, a cold and black gloved hand shoves you back onto the bed, pushing you right into the deep end.
“Please, I- I’ll do anything, I don’t wanna die, sir.” Your voice actually cracks on the tail end of your sentence, putting your all in your amateur-porn-without-a-camera performance.
“Shh.” Ghostface whispers but it’s jagged with long held back arousal, “You’re not going to die yet if you give me something for my trouble. You let me waltz right in just because Daddy’s not home, and now I'm supposed to pass up a pretty little lying whore like you?”
You whimper, “I’m not a whore, I just- He doesn’t have to know, please, I’ll do whatever you want, I swear.”
“Oh so you admit you were lying to him? How do you think he’s gonna feel when he comes home to see his precious baby’s guts spilled all over the bed she wanted her secret boyfriend to fuck her in. You were so giggly when you told me it was his.” He cocks his head to the side, teeth no doubt gleaming white under the mask. “What’s wrong, sugarplum? Not so proud of being a slut anymore?”
“Spread your legs, I have the perfect game in mind. Your pussy can’t lie like your mouth can, and I have just the thing she wants.”
You tremble, letting tears gather in your eyes so you really look afraid for your life. You sink into the mattress, your upper inner thighs glisten with your juices, already wet and he hasn’t thrust his knife inside of you let alone his cock. Your head says you should just lie there and feel the overhead fan blow gently on your exposed pussy but your clit wants to scream at Ghostface to go in blade first.
“See, look.” He taunts, parting your folds with the chilly tip of his knife, “She’s co cute, glistening and puffy, she’d look so good being fucked on the hilt of my knife, don’t you think?”
It’s not quite what you want but you nod, letting your legs go lax so he can get a proper look at your juicy cunt. He hums in approval, the soft sound raises your hackles and causes the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up.
He slaps the tip of the blade against your clit, and it’s the miracle that you weren’t cut that has you pleading up at him with your eyes. To pretty please at least thrust the hilt in so you can feel like you’re getting stabbed on something, Ghostface tilts his head again, his long body bending to the side, considering giving you what you want.
But wasn’t the point of this whole charade to turn you into a whiny bitch who’d risk her life for a serial killer’s knife, lusting after it possibly more than his actual cock?
“Oh, fine. I guess we’d better be quick if we don’t want your daddy to drop in on us too soon, I'd hate to have to gut him too, baby.” There’s a false hint of concern, you can picture a slight pout under the mask, his fingers tighten around the handle.
You eagerly scramble back on the bed, and Ghostface follows after you. His knees sink into the mattress on either side of your hips, one gloved hand shooting out to steady himself by your head and the other keeping a firm grip on his knife. He makes sure you can always see it, not because you actually need a reminder of the threat your (and your daddy’s by association) life is in, but because it entices you into being good.
Not that he’d mind a brat, but he doesn’t have the time today to break you apart piece by piece. He waves the knife in front of you, dangling a carrot in front of his dumb bunny, and reaches down under his cloak to unbuckle his belt.
“Aw, you perked up as soon as I started fiddling with my belt buckle, huh buttercup? Don’t get too excited, that little heart might burst and we haven’t even been able to watch any scary movies together yet.” Ghostface teases, shuffling back so his pants can fall to the floor.
You weren’t touching yet, but you still whine. His eyes must be crinkling under the mask because he giggles and climbs back up your body to hover above your face. He boops the tip of your nose with his knife, the edge gently scrapes against your chubby cheek and your jawline as he drags it along the contours of your face. Mapping it out so he knows which cuts to make without making you too ugly, as long as your holes can tighten enough to hug something, he doesn’t mind.
“Are you scared? Aw, I hope so, it’s only gonna make you tighter, you might even bleed without me having to give you a single cut.” He laughs when you pout at that, dragging the tip of his blade under your shirt before cutting it off and doing the same to your bra, a lacey thing you may or may not have bought specifically for this occasion. Blood red and now in tatters on your daddy’s bedroom floor, hopefully you can pick it up later before he comes home if you’re still alive.
“Mmh, don’t hurt me, please, I’m doing what you want aren’t I? I’m being good for you, that’s all I want, just wanna be good for you so fuckin’ bad.” You plead, gasping as he cuts away your mini skirt too.
And you do, it’s why you want your boyfriend to let go and carve you up as if all you’re good for is to be a monument to how much you adore him. You love him like this, slipping into the role of a guiltless killer who just might snuff the life out of you no matter how stellar your pussy game is, and you’ll love him afterwards when he needs round 3 (because you want one round with him in your pussy and one in your ass) to be gentle and sweet, his hung skinny boy cock stealing the breath out of you even when his strokes are languid and honey fueled.
“I know you do, I wouldn’t be giving you a chance to live otherwise, you whore. You’re just a sweet girl who got tripped up as soon as it was looking like you were gonna get dick, right? Doesn’t matter what happens after, don’t sweat it, you’re gonna get everything you want.”
You mewl, and your eyes flutter shut as he pushes your clothes off of your body. His knife’s blade shocks you a little when he drags it along your skin, making a path towards your dripping pussy. Your clit throbs in anticipation, Ghostface’s cloak shifts as his shoulders slightly shake from laughter.
“Greedy girl, I'm gonna put it in okay? Feel free to cry and scream all you want, I'd prefer it actually.” Is all the warning you get before he positions the black knife handle in front of your pussy, and starts pushing it in.
You whine at the stretch, and he doesn’t give you any time to adjust beyond that, slamming it in until the blade is just outside your hole. He grunts in pain, wrapping his hand around the sharp edges, his gloves are too thick for his skin to be sliced through, but you notice his cock twitch under his cloak.
You gush around the hilt of the knife, feeling too dizzy to look down at where it disappears into your body. It doesn’t do anything but split you in two, there’s no special spot it hits and the smooth bumpy ridges are too slight to provide any stimulation. It’s the brutality of the act that turns you on, a masked man looming above you as he plunges his knife into you, stabbing you from the inside.
The blade makes itself known every so often, poking your folds, imitations of sharp pecks as Ghostface thrusts the hilt inside your sopping wet pussy. The mess on your daddy’s sheets takes on more fluid, growing into a small puddle, you’re so embarrassed and your heart is beating faster than a hummingbirds as you stare up into the eyes of his mask. Black sinkholes surrounded by bright white, elongated and macabre, you clench around the handle. This could be the last sight you ever see, a ghostly specter getting off on desecrating your body and settling you on fire with your own shame.
You drool at his long fingers, curled so tightly around the blade, he must be in tremendous pain. Your clit jumps, listening for muffled pained groans held behind clenched teeth. It’s not your own suffering that gets you going apparently, this deranged man’s desperation to make you cum from being hurt that he ends up getting off on hurting himself is all you care about. Your daddy would forgive you, you just couldn’t help sniffing after a big soon to be bloody cock, maybe if you’re left alone afterwards he can put you back together. Kiss your wounds and gently guide you through a soft orgasm, a pink frothy ring permanently tied around the base of his cock.
“Is this knife a good enough dildo for you?” Ghostface sneers, he can tell that you’ve started to drift off, getting so caught up in the moment you can’t even be present enough to ride it out. “This pussy’s so tight I can't fit anymore of it in, guess you’ve been a good whore, I’m sorry I can't cut up your insides, carve them up like my special little pumpkin. Round and sweet and so fucking easy to squash into gooey pulp.”
You whimper and rock your hips down, desperate for the blade to somehow slip inside and absolutely mess you up. You want to bleed out around his cock and stare up into the eyes of his mask as you shatter around him, sharing the experience of cumming together while the light leaves your eyes. You don’t even know what he’d do, if he’d pull out right away and leave a sea of blood and other bodily fluids surrounding your corpse, if he’d snap a pic or two before sauntering right out the front door, whistling an old timey love song as he runs through his options for what to watch when he gets home.
Or maybe he’d stay, jostle his softening cock inside of you, softly bouncing your cooling body until it becomes too stiff. If he’d tear up just a little behind the mask and brush the gaping long oval shaped mouth over the lips on your face, your first kiss, only in death. He’d die someday and pull you down to hell so he can tell you his name and do this all over again, kissing the sweat off your philtrum and huffing the sulfur and brimstone from your bush.
“That’s it, clench on my knife handle, I know that’s what you’re after, but you’re still drooling… don’t tell me you want my cock now? We were just getting started…”
“I- I want your cock, so bad please, I wanna cum on it, wanna make you feel so good you’ll come back to finish me off later.” You beg and play with your tits, rolling your nipples in between your fingers so you’ll be even wetter.
You want it to be amazing for him, to be enveloped in so much liquid he’d only have to close his eyes and imagine it was your blood. You hear a groan coming from above you and you smile, “It’ll be so good, you can keep pretending you’ve killed me so we can do this again and again and again and again. I can be your perfect murder victim, a toy that never breaks for good, your cumsock. Please, Mr. Ghostface, we can even make a movie together if you want.”
Amateur porn, snuff, erotic-sleazy-trashy slasher gore porn, cheap horror, you’d do it all.
“God, you really are such a freaking freak. I thought I told you I wouldn't make a decision until I've ruined every one of your holes for anybody else. I guess this can be your audition, you wanna be my little star so bad then you can prove that you can handle what that’s really gonna be like. Gonna rough you up and leave you scraped raw, bully this pussy with my dick and choke you out when it’s time for bed.”
Your clit throbs painfully, and you almost cum on the now uncomfortable chafing material of his knife’s handle when he abruptly yanks it out, leaving your hole hungry and empty. More wetness dribbles out, some of it falling right on the black hilt and into the grooves, staining it in a way, you hope he sniffs it and jerks off while he kills some less lucky girl later.
He drops the knife right by your hip, and you wince as it knicks you. Ghostface braces himself on either side of your head and reaches down to ruck up his cloak, clumsily unbuttoning his pants with one hand and freeing his rock hard cock. You don’t get to marvel at it, to live with the knowledge that you know what the infamous serial killer terrorizing your town’s penis looks like. He doesn’t allow you any prep time now either, you’re not empty for long before he’s impatiently thrusting his bare cock in your puffy pussy.
It makes the most sickening squelch when his balls swing to hit your ass, like an organ you forgot existed just burst.
He gets so excited that he smacks you clean across the face, panting like a rabid dog mounting his prey.
“Fuck, virgins have the best pussies. Does this hurt, my fat fucking dick breaking you down into nothing? You look like you’re gonna cry, baby, it’s okay. You’ll like it soon, or not, this isn’t about what you want anyway, right? This is what you wanted, opening the door for a stranger only to get destroyed by his raw cock in your daddy’s bed.”
You’re still reeling from the slap but you have enough sense to nod, sobbing as his thrusts become harsher, sending you up the bed and spreading the burn of his length forcing itself to fit all throughout your abused body.
The smell of sex is going to take forever to come out, seeping through the walls and into the foundations of the house, an invisible scarlet letter for his future starlet.
Spencer’s phone beeps hours later, once, then twice, then a few more times before it falls silent.
I let you play without me this one time, don’t forget that.
Make sure to bring her room temperature water. Cold water gives her headaches. Two painkillers, not four unless she asks, she gets dizzy otherwise.
Take a shower if you’re feeling up to it, she’ll get fussy if she’s sticky and you’ll get fussy if she’s fussy.
Send me the video, last one on this floor of the bulding by now. Gideon went home an hour ago. I want pictures of you in the costume too.
Love you both, I’ll do my best to be home sometime tomorrow. No cockwarming if she’s too fucked out, just slip a plug in. You know her favorites, don’t get smug if she picks the pink heart shaped one again.
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imaginespazzi · 5 months ago
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Part 2: And Even Now
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11
Because I'll never let this go (but I can't find the words to tell you)
(In which a deadline-averse writer actually lives up to a weekly deadline)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Pining, A little bit of fluff I guess?
Words: 6.9K (back to my usual)
TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)
A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Happy Monday! Nobody get used to me actually updating on a proper weekly basis because really, let's be honest you're all lowkey shocked I'm actually living up to this too but we'll see how long I can make it last. As you read, let's just all remember my favorite three words: For. The. Plot! Editing and I continue to be sworn enemies so you'll definitely find typos along the way and feel free to point them out so that I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a wonderful rest of your week my loves <3
February 2033
Azzi’s heart is beating a million miles per minute as she gets into her car. She’s just invited Paige into her world  and even if she knows that it was the right thing to do for her team, the full force of what she’s just done is starting to hit her. The plan had been the exact opposite. In fact the plan had been to avoid Paige at all costs while she was here in Oakland. Azzi had spent nearly a decade building this new world of hers that was devoid of anything Paige and it had taken Ohemaa an hour, explaining why Paige was the last domino they needed to fall to win a championship, to convince Azzi to bulldoze her own walls. 
Banging her head against the steering wheel, Azzi lets out a frustrated scream. She’d been the picture of calm and composed while talking to Paige, but internally an earthquake had started rumbling within her the minute she’d finally laid eyes on the blonde. It was unfair that age seemed to have no effect on Paige, unfair that she still made Azzi’s stomach do somersaults, unfair that that stupid smirk made Azzi nostalgic for a feeling she used to call home. It’s funny really. There was a time in Azzi’s life where she didn’t know how she’d survive without seeing Paige every day. But now if the blonde does accept her offer, Azzi thinks, seeing Paige every day, might just be her poison ivy. 
The sound of her car doors opening shakes Azzi out of her pity party, as she rushes to compose herself before Stephie sees her. Through the rear view mirror, she watches as her daughter happily climbs into her car seat, a giddy smile on her face. And all the stress and anxiety seems to evaporate. 
“What’s got you so happy Stephie bean? What did you and Aunty Leen do?” Azzi asks, so focused on Stephie’s grin, that she misses Colleen, who’s just let herself into the passenger seat, shaking her head.
“Aunty Leen lost me,” Stephie says coyly and Azzi immediately turns to Colleen whose head whips around to look at the little girl in the back seat. 
“Stephanie Katarina Fudd are you lying on my good name?” she hisses. 
“Stephie,” Azzi chides, catching on quickly “did you run away from Aunty Leen again?”
“She was boring me Mama,” Stephie whines, sticking her tongue out at Colleen, “and if I didn’t run away, then I wouldn’t have met Miss Buecks.”
Oh.
She told me she thinks I’d look good in purple.
Azzi’s breath hitches in her throat. She hadn’t quite registered that Paige’s words from before meant that she must have met Stephie, too busy finding a way to get out of the gym that was starting to feel just a little too hot. It only clicks now as Stephie starts to ramble about how she’d ran into a stranger in the chill room. But it’s not the idea of Stephie and Paige meeting that sends a shiver creeping up Azzi’s spine. No, it’s that enamored smile on Stephie’s face. It’s the way Azzi’s little girl’s eyes light up just saying those two syllables Miss Buecks. Maybe it’s genetic or perhaps just a Fudd family fatal flaw but Azzi can see a fourteen year old version of herself, blooming in Stephie. She’d hidden it well, behind exasperated head shakes and exaggerated eye rolls but falling in love with Paige Bueckers had been just a little to easy back then. Apparently, it still was. 
“She was really nice Mama,” Stephie gushes and Azzi’s hand tightens on the steering wheel, “is she gonna come play for your team? I told her she should.”
“So I heard,” Azzi murmurs and she can feel Colleen’s eyes immediately shifting to look at her. 
“You talked to Paige?” Azzi’s best friend asks, a skeptical lilt in her voice. 
Azzi shrugs, “I ran into her in the gym.”
“And what exactly were you doing in the gym?” 
“Looking for Paige,” Azzi says sheepishly as Collen makes an indiscernible noise.
“Did you ask her to join your team Mama?” Stephie chimes in eagerly from the back, unaware of the way that the childlike hope in her voice is putting her mother on edge. Azzi has built an impenetrable fortress around her own heart but she’d never considered that perhaps she should have built a moat around Stephie’s too. 
“Yeah baby, I did,” Azzi admits slowly and this time Colleen lets an audible gasp, except it’s drowned out by a series of exhilarated squeals erupting from the backseat. 
“MISS BUECKS IS GONNA JOIN MAMA’S TEAM,” Stephie screams, practically bouncing on her seat as she begins to repeat the phrase in a sing-song voice. 
“Hold your horses, kid. She hasn’t said yes yet,” Azzi warns. 
Stephie smiles secretly, “but she will Mama, I know she will.”
It makes Azzi feel lightheaded, the amount of trust Stephie seems to already have in a stranger. There’s a part of her that wants to crawl into her daughter’s mind and erase the memory of blonde hair and blue eyes because she knows, she knows better than anyone, that once you walk through that door, there is no coming back. And Paige would never willingly hurt Stephie -even after a decade apart Azzi has that much faith in the blonde- but that doesn’t mean that she wouldn’t break her heart any way. 
Colleen turns to Azzi, a look of unmistakable concern on her face as she makes a show of putting her hand against the darker-skinned girl’s forehead, “are you feeling okay?”
“Oh fudge off,” Azzi groans, swatting away her best friend’s hand
“Azzi let me get this straight, you’re telling me you asked your e-x-g-i-r-l-f-r-i-e-n-d to join your team?”
“Look at you spelling Col, I’m so proud of you-”
“Don’t start,” Colleen shoots her a look and Azzi sighs, “what happened to going into Ohemaa’s office and making sure that didn’t happen?”
“I did what I had to,” Azzi shrugs, “I put the team first.”
“And what about-”
“Colleen please,” Azzi begs softly, a wave of tiredness washing over her, “it’s done okay. And it might not even matter. She might not even say yes.”
Colleen opens her mouth and then sighs, seeing something in Azzi’s face that convinces her not to push. There isn’t anyone else in the world who knows Azzi better than her best friend, except maybe the woman they’re talking about. Paige would’ve pushed, she always had. Pushed and pushed until Azzi was letting herself free fall off a cliff, only harnessed by Paige’s promise to catch her before she hit the ground. And then one day Azzi had unclipped the harness, and it was their relationship that had come crashing down. 
“Mama,” Stephie’s inquisitive voice calls from behind and Azzi hums in response, starting up her car, “you knew Miss Bueckers when she was littler right?”
“I knew her when she was younger,” Azzi corrects gently and knew feels like an understatement. They’d lived in each other’s skin, carving themselves onto parts of each other they hadn’t even known existed until the other had come along. 
“Same thing Mama,” Stephie huffs, “was she still so pretty then?”
And as pictures of a younger Paige, beautiful and vibrant like the sun shining on the pavement after a thunderstorm, dance through her mind, Azzi can’t stop the soft smile that flitters across her face. 
“She’s always been the prettiest.”
***
Paige isn’t feeling particularly talkative when her phone rings, Talia’s name flashing on the CallerID. Her senses are still drowned in all things Azzi and she’s not quite ready to be rescued from the ocean of memories that have suddenly flooded her entire being. She wants to lose herself in them, let herself be drawn back to what was. Paige has spent the better part of the last decade running away from her past but today, for the first time, all she wants is to let this slideshow of nostalgia keep on playing through her mind. 
“Talia if you’re calling just to say I told you so,” Paige sneers into the phone, finally picking it up after the ringing starts to give her a mild headache. She’d texted Thalia almost immediately after speaking to Azzi, a simple i think i could make the Valks work, purposely leaving out what, or more precisely who, had convinced her. 
“I would never,” Talia says with a hint of amusement, “if I started telling you I told you so after every time I was right, I fear I’d never have anything else to say to you because I am in fact, always right.”
Paige rolls her eyes, “alright then if you’re done gloating.”
“I didn’t call to gloat,” the manager’s voice is more serious now, “I called to tell you that I talked to the Liberty and they have an offer.”
“The Liberty don’t have cap space,” Paige says slowly, stomach suddenly queasy.
“They don’t have cap space this season,” Talia corrects, “but things are gonna change for them with Sabrina retiring after this season and they can move a couple of other things around to give us what we want next season.”
“What exactly are you saying?”
“I’m saying that the Valkyries don’t have to be anything more than a pit stop. I know I pressured you into this but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been trying to figure something else out for you behind the scenes.”
“And I assume you’ve talked to Ohemaa too then?”
Talia scoffs, “do I look like an amateur agent to you? Of course I have. This works for them too. If all goes to plan, they have the rights to Atlanta’s #3 pick in the draft and if the mocks have gotten it right, they’ll get Angie Davis.”
“The Stanford PG,” Paige breathes out. 
“Exactly. She’ll get a year developing under you and then hopefully they won’t need you next year. And you won’t need them. Everybody wins.”
It sounds like the perfect solution. The Valkyrie’s would get what they need out of her and she’d get what she needed out of them. Then they’d part ways and Paige’s past would no longer be a factor in her present once she got to New York. One year and then everything would fall into place the way she’d wanted it to. It should fill her with excitement or relief or maybe even both but instead Paige feels nothing but unease, like she’s sealing herself to a fate of never truly having a home. 
She rubs a tired hand across her face, “what if I don’t want to leave after a year?”
“Then we can talk about it in a year. You’re not signing anything other than a one-year contract with the Valkyries right now and letting both them and the Liberty know that you're keeping your options open,” Talia says, her tone perfectly business-like. 
“Good,” Paige lets out a small sigh of relief at knowing she isn’t about to get herself legally bound to anything, “that’s good.”
“Why don’t you sound more happy about this Paige?” an irritated timbre slips into Talia’s words, “you were practically begging me to find you a way out of this and now that I have, it seems like you would rather I hadn’t.”
“The Valkyries are a good organization. Good front office, good GM, good coach, good facilities and you know how much I’ve always loved the Bay Area. Every time we’ve come here to play, the atmosphere has always been amazing. This place breathes basketball and I just wanna be a part of that,” and Paige means every word of it, even if there are other reasons at play.
“But you already knew all of that before you went down there Paige so cut the bullshit. Why exactly are you suddenly on board with all of this?” Talia asks, her voice hardening and Paige hates that her manager, who had really been more of a friend for the last couple of years, knows her just a little too well. 
“I met someone-”
“Oh fucking hell,” Talia groans, “please tell me you’re not making career decisions with your pussy.”
“Don’t be crude Talia. After all these years, I think you’d know me better than that. I met a little girl,” an uncontrollably smitten grin flickers across Paige’s face as she thinks back to her conversation with Stephie, “and she- she made some good points about why I should be a Golden State Valkyrie. You’d be surprised how smart little kids are these days.”
Thalia’s voice is drenched in skepticism when she speaks again, “you met a little girl? Where?”
“At the Valkyries training facilities,” as soon as she says it Paige wishes she’d lied. 
“What was a little girl doing at-,” another loud groan echoes through Paige’s phone and she can practically picture her agent fighting back the urge to facepalm, “please tell me you’re not talking about Azzi Fudd’s daughter.”
“I can’t tell you that,” Paige says, trying to keep her voice light.
“Jesus fucking christ Paige so you are thinking with your pussy then. You’re telling me you wanna join GSV because your ex-girlfriend’s daughter thinks you should? Do you hear how insane that sounds?”
No, Paige thinks, I want to join because my ex-girlfriend thinks I should. Except she’s pretty sure that wouldn’t go over any better with Talia. She knows it sounds insane, knows it’s a little pathetic the power Azzi still has over her, knows that it should have taken more than just Azzi’s little speech to change her adamant no into a resounding yes. But the truth is that the only good reason she’d even had to not want to go to GSV, was rooted in Azzi and once Azzi had removed that barrier, the decision had never seemed clearer. 
“You said it yourself Tals. It’s been years. This isn’t about her and me. It’s about basketball and it’s about winning,” Paige says finally, even if the words don’t sit sound right as they waterfall out of her mouth. 
“So this has nothing to do with Azzi Fudd?” Talia inquires. 
“Nothing other than the fact that she’s the best shooting guard in the country and together we can be the best backcourt in the WNBA. Azzi Fudd,” it’s the first time Paige has said her name in a long time and it ignites a fire on the tip of her tongue “is my past and she’ll never be anything more than a future teammate, not again. Besides,” Paige’s stomach churns as the next words leave her mouth, “like you said. GSV doesn’t have to be anything more than a temporary pit stop.”
***
Putting away her weights, Azzi uses her forearm to wipe away the beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She hides a smile as her eyes fall on Stephie. A look of pure concentration marks her daughter’s face as she puts her full little body into lifting a set of 2kg weights. It’s become their Sunday routine. Azzi comes to the Valkyrie’s fitness center to train and Stephie follows along, pitter pattering behind Azzi and trying to mimic every exercise her mother attempts. 
“Mama,” Stephie gushes as she catches Azzi’s eyes in the mirror, “I did twenty today. I think I can do the 3kg ones next time.”
Azzi laughs, walking over and bending down to give the little girl a high-5, “oh yeah? You think you’re ready to move onto the next level.”
“Yeah I am!” Stephie cheers, trying to flex her biceps, “look how big they’re getting.”
“Oh my god baby they’re almost bigger than mine,” Azzi says dramatically, flexing her own arms right next to Stephie’s. 
“Just give me a year,” Stephie promises, giggling as she wraps her arms around her mother’s neck, “I’m gonna be the strongest Fudd.”
Azzi lifts her up with ease, pressing a delicate kiss against her daughter’s hair as the little girl settles into her side, hands immediately playing with the “S” necklace around Azzi’s neck. 
“When Miss Buecks joins your team, do you think she can come ex-cise with us too?” Stephie asks shyly and Azzi sighs as she grabs for her gym bag. 
She should have expected the question really. In the hours that had passed since Stephie had met Paige, the older woman’s name seemed to have risen to the top of the little girl’s vocabulary. Every little thing they’d done since had been accompanied by the mention of Miss Buecks, either a plea to have Paige join them next time or Stephie gushing about how she just knew Miss Buecks would be good at this too. 
“You know kid, I’m beginning to think you might like Miss Buecks more than me,” Azzi teases with a lightheartedness she doesn’t feel. But she won’t let her own discomfort bleed into Stephie’s excitement. 
“Don’t be silly Mama,” Stephie pulls at Azzi’s cheeks, “you’ll always be my favoritest.”
Don’t worry Az, you’ll always be my most favorite. It’s Paige's voice that echoes through her mind, casual and carefree and so, so honest. And she needs to stop doing this, needs to stop her brain from tying her present to the threads of her past, needs to stop her heart from letting Stephie and Paige be pieces of the same puzzle. It’s a dangerous wish she’d let bloom in secret for years but not all wishes are meant to come true, some are meant to tragically wilter in the darkness until they turn into a wistful what if. 
A shrill “MISS BUECKS,” breaks Azzi out of her thoughts as the child in her arms starts to wriggle out of her grasp the minute they step out of the fitness center. As soon as Stephie manages to get on the ground, she’s running before Azzi can get a word out to stop her. And all Azzi can do is watch as Paige turns around at the call of her name, neutral face breaking into a luminescent smile as she catches sight of Stephie running towards her. 
“MISS BUECKS,” Stephie squeals again, tiny hands outstretched as she picks up speed. 
“STEPHIE,” Paige matches the excitement in the little girl’s voice, swinging her into her arms and spinning her around before finally holding her firm against her hip. 
“I missed you,” Stephie confesses, “did you miss me?”
Paige's eyes soften as she nuzzles Stephies nose, “of course I did.”
Azzi feels paralyzed as she watches the scene unfold in front of her. Stephie excitedly chatters about some random topic and Paige seems mesmerized by the most mundane stories. And Azzi’s not sure if she’s floating or sinking, but she knows if she lets them, the tears begging to be released from her eyes could flood everything around her. Her hands fist of their own accord as she takes a step towards Paige and Stephie and it’s like a nightmare and a daydream all at once. 
“Mama look,” Stephie notices her first, “Miss Buecks is here.”
Paige looks over Stephie’s head and as cerulean blue eyes pierce into Azzi’s dark brown ones, she wonders if Paige is thinking of it too, of the future they used to talk about while curled up in one of their UConn dorms as their hands traced forever into each other’s palms.
“I can see that Steph,” she musters up a polite smile, “Hi Paige.”
She gets an equally polite smile back in return, “Hi Azzi.”
Her name sounds different on Paige’s lips and Azzi misses the way Paige’s eyes used to twinkle just saying it, the way her lips would curl around that one word like it carried the meaning of life itself. 
“Miss Buecks,” Stephie turns Paige’s face away from Azzi, hand resting against her cheek, “did you say yes to joining Mama’s team?”
Paige’s eyes flicker towards Azzi again, before coming back to rest on the hopeful little girl, “I did. I just signed the contract.”
Stephie screams, arms wrapping around Paige’s neck and Azzi expects Paige to at least flinch, but the blonde simply laughs, hugging Azzi’s little girl back with equal fervor. 
“I take it you’re happy,” Paige whispers. 
“I’m-,” Stephie crawls out from Paige’s neck to look at Azzi, “Mama what’s that big word you use es-est-”
“Ecstatic,” Azzi whispers, trying to pretend that Paige’s announcement hasn’t knocked the wind out of her. Hell has just become official and Azzi had personally invited it. 
“I’m es-tatic that you’re joining Mama’s team Miss Buecks. I told Mama that I knew you would. I'm gonna cheer so loud for you,” Stephie says, unaware that her innocent words feel like shards of broken glass piercing at Azzi’s skin. 
“That makes me ecstatic Stephie,” Paige says softly but there’s a hint of something else there that Azzi can’t quite place; the realization that she’s no longer as well-versed in the notes of Paige’s voice hits her like a hailstorm. 
“Welcome to Golden State,” she manages to stutter out and Paige’s eyes drift to her before warily looking down to her outstretched hands, “I think we’ll make a good team.”
“I’m counting on it,” Paige nods as she reaches out the hand that’s not holding Stephie. And the moment they touch, it’s still electric, like lightning during the first thunderstorm after a drought. They stare at each other and Azzi wonders if Paige is thinking it too, thinking that if only they’d held on like this eight years ago when they should have. Blinking away droplets of what happened to you and me forever, Azzi reluctantly lets go of Paige’s hand, ignoring the way the feeling of it still lingers, like it’s destined to etch itself onto Azzi’s palms. 
“Well Stephie bear, I think it’s time for us to go home,” she says slowly. 
Stephie crinkles her nose, “we’re not going home Mama. We’re getting ice cream,” she turns to Paige with a serious expression on her face, “we always get ice cream after ex-cise. Mama says it’s good for the soul.”
“She’s right. Ice cream is good for the soul,” Paige smiles, giving Azzi a knowing look. 
“OH,” Stephie shrieks, “Miss Buecks you should come with us so we can cel-bate you coming to Mama’s team.”
Azzi’s eyes widen, immediately getting ready to shut that dreadful idea down, “Miss Buecks is busy baby and she probably wants to celebrate with her own family.”
And if the word family makes Paige flinch, Azzi pretends she doesn’t notice. 
“You don’t wanna cel-bate with me Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks and Azzi knows that even if Paige had intended to decline Stephie’s offer, once her daughter gives her those big sad eyes, the already people-pleasing blonde won’t say no. 
“Nobody else I’d rather celebrate with,” Paige caves and Azzi sighs, switching her bag to her other shoulder. Some things would never change. Some things about Paige, she would always be able to predict. 
“Yay,” Stephie cheers, finally slipping down from Paige’s lap, only so she can lace one hand in Paige’s and the other in Azzi’s, “let’s go cel-bate.”
***
It’s the first time they’ve been in a car together in a decade, and still the instinct to reach out and grab Azzi’s hand as she drives, prickles against Paige’s fingertips. She tries to focus on the road ahead, tries to focus on whatever story Stephie is telling from the backseat, tries to focus on anything but the woman in the driver’s seat who used to be her passenger princess. 
“You’ve turned into a pretty good driver,” she quips slowly, trying to lighten the tension between them, “I’m only just a little bit scared for my life right now.”
Azzi cracks a small smile, “are you ready to admit I’m a better driver than you?”
“Not a chance.”
“Mama’s the best driver in the world,” Stephie chimes in loyally, “was she a bad driver when she was littler?”
“Younger,” Azzi corrects immediately, “and I was always a good driver, Steph. Don’t listen to Miss Buecks.”
Paige scoffs, “don’t believe her Stephie. She once nearly killed me.”
“I did not. I can’t believe you’re lying to my child.”
“Am I?” Paige cocks her head, “so you didn’t nearly back into me that one time during Christmas?”
“That doesn’t count,” Azzi protests, “I didn’t even know you were coming to surprise me. How was I supposed to know you were going to be right outside the garage door while I was trying to pull out.”
“There are these things on your car called mirrors Azzi, think maybe you should try and use them sometimes.”
“It was dark and I was in a hurry.”
“Where could you possibly have had to go that late on Christmas?”
“I was going to surprise you,” Azzi exclaims, “but you beat me to it so,” her voice fades off as an awkward silence cuts into the easy banter. The memory of that night is clear in Paige’s mind. Christmas 2021 when they’d been teetering on the edge between something and everything. They’d decided they’d meet up the day after Christmas to exchange presents, leaving the day of it just for their families. But the whole day had passed and Paige had been consumed by nothing but missing Azzi. And as soon as night fell, her mind was made up to go see her best friend. She hadn't known just how much Azzi had missed her too. Not until now. It’s funny, Paige thinks, they’d once been the kind of people who didn’t know how to exist when they spent a day apart. Now they were the kind of people who’d fought to spend nearly a decade apart.
“Miss Buecks,” Stephie cuts in again, voice inquisitive, and Paige doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of hearing the little girl call for her; it fills her with a warmth she didn’t even know she had the capacity to feel, “Mama said you’ve always been the prettiest, even when you were littler.”
Paige’s eyes dart to Azzi, a smirk playing on her lips as she watches a pink hue spread across the brunette’s cheeks, “she said that?”
Azzi doesn’t say anything, hands tightening on the steering wheel as she finally maneuvers into a parking lot. 
“She did,” Stephie confirms, “and she said you were really good at bask-ball and really smart. And then Aunty Leen said something in her ear and Mama got all shy.”
“Right Stephanie. I think that’s enough talk about what Mama said,” Azzi says as she finishes parking and starts to unbuckle her seatbelt, muttering something about inflated egos under her breath. 
“Nah Stephie,” Paige grins as gets out of the car, “I like hearing what your Mama said about me.”
It earns her a glare from Azzi and that only makes her smile harder. Paige is no stranger to praise and compliments but it’s always meant just a little more when it came from Azzi. And she’d never admit it to anyone but every time she’d come across a clip of Azzi praising her over the last couple years, she’d let the clip loop for far longer than she should have.
“You know what Bueckers,” Azzi says, “you’re buying our ice cream.”
“That’s not fair Mama,” Stephie chides, “we’re here to cel-bate Miss Buecks. It’s her treat so you have to pay.”
“Yeah Azzi, it’s my treat so you have to pay,” Paige mimics, high-fiving a beaming Stephie. 
Azzi looks between the two of them, an offended expression on her face, “my own daughter,” she gasps, “betraying me. I see how it is.”
“You’re the one who says we have to be fair,” Stephie says, nudging her mother slightly so she can clutch her hand and then turns to look up at Paige, “was Mama really pretty when she was littler?”
“Younger” Azzi corrects again, before focusing on Paige, “and you don’t have to answer that. She’s seen photos of me from before.”
“But I wanna know from Miss Buecks,” Stephie whines. 
“Stephie,” Azzi warns, an edge to her voice. 
“She was the most beautiful girl in the world,” Paige says softly and two sets of dark brown eyes immediately flash up to her. The California sunshine makes Azzi glow but really that’s nothing new; Azzi has always been the brightest star, at least in Paige’s galaxy, and she can’t help but let the next words slip through her lips, “she still is.”
***
Azzi thinks Paige has never really known the impact of her own words. Whether it was the missiles she fired when angry or the shower of flower petals when she was feeling complimentary. And it seems like time has done nothing to change that because Paige continues to walk towards the ice cream parlor with absolutely no recognition of how Azzi’s heart has just burst into flames. 
She still is. 
It shouldn’t affect her the way it does, shouldn’t elicit any reaction more than just a cocky smirk but instead those three little words seem to imprint themselves on her cochlear, ringing around her like static as she tries to keep a façade of nonchalance. 
The ice cream parlor is bursting with people and it doesn’t take long before both Azzi and Paige are being asked for pictures. Protective instinct kicking in, Azzi reaches to grab for Stephie to keep her from getting lost in the crowd, only to find her already securely tucked into Paige’s side. Azzi watches as Paige interacts with the fans -she’s always been a natural at that- and somehow manages to keep Stephie entertained at the same time, conspiratorially whispering things to her in between interactions and making her giggle. It hurts and heals something inside her at the same time. The thing is, since Stephie was born, Azzi has done this whole thing alone and she’s never regretted it, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a part of her that hasn’t always wished for a partner, someone else who would protect her little girl with her. Like Paige is right now. But this is a mirage, a fever dream that isn’t Azzi’s to dream. 
So she looks away and hides her tears behind a dazzling smile for a photo with a fan. She’s gotten incredibly good at that. 
“What’s your favorite ice cream flavor Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks excitedly when they finally manage to reach the counter.
“Oh um-” Paige scratches at her neck, “I like cookies and cream.”
Azzi guffaws at the lie, “your favorite flavor is cookies and cream?”
“Yes Azzi,” Paige glares, “I love cookies and cream.”
Azzi raises an eyebrow before dropping her voice down to a whisper, “why are you lying?”
Paige sighs, “I don’t want Stephie to think I’m weird.”
“Oh Paige,” Azzi can’t help but smile before turning to Stephie, “Steph what flavor are you getting?”
“Mint chocolate chip,” Stephie says excitedly, eyes fixated on the green ice cream and Paige’s mouth falls open a little bit as Azzi smirks at her. 
She turns to the cashier, “we’ll have open mint chocolate chip, one strawberry and one-”
“One more mint chocolate chip please,” Paige cuts in and both Azzi and Stephie look at her. 
“I thought you wanted cookies and cream Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks with a confused expression and Azzi barely manages to bite back her laugh. 
“I uh-,” Paige begins sheepishly, “I didn’t know they had mint chocolate chip. That’s my most favorite.”
Stephie is contemplatively quiet for a minute before a grin breaks out on her face, “Mama did you know Miss Buecks and I have the same favorite ice-cream flavor?”
“I had absolutely no idea,” Azzi says, winking at Paige as she pays for their ice cream. 
They opt to sit outside on one of the picnic benches overlooking the nearby park. Azzi is distinctly aware of how they might look to anyone walking by right now, like a family. Normally, ice cream Sundays are spent with Stephie rambling and Azzi listening but this time Stephie has someone who’s just as much of a chatterbox as she is. Paige hangs on to every word that comes out of the little girl’s mouth, answering questions and giving replies as if this is the most important conversation of her life. 
“Mama and I go to Stanford games all the time,” Stephie’s saying as Azzi tries to get out of her own head and zone into the conversation instead, “I’m gonna be a- what’s it called again Mama?”
“A Cardinal,” Azzi supplies helpfully. 
“I’m gonna be a Card-nal,” Stephie says and Paige gasps, turning to Azzi. 
“Oh my god you’ve raised a traitor,” she moans, shaking her head. 
Stephie scrunches her face, looking rather offended by that moniker, “I’m not a tray-tor.”
“Steph sweetheart look at me,” Paige says, her voice the epitome of seriousness as she holds the younger girl by her shoulders, “what are we?”
“Humans?” Stephie asks innocently and Azzi laughs.
“No Stephie we,” Paige uses her finger to point at her and Azzi, “we are Huskies. UConn Huskies. And what do we bleed?”
“Oh I know this one,” Stephie says excitedly, “we bleed blue.”
“So do you wanna be a boring old tree or do you wanna be a big, strong Husky who bleeds blue?”
“I wanna be a Husky,” Stephie cheers and Paige cheers along with her. Azzi rolls her eyes but it doesn't quite match the smile on her face. And then Stephie’s racing off to the swings, leaving Paige and Azzi alone for the first time in a long time. 
“Did you just manipulate my child into wanting to go to UConn?” she nudges Paige. 
“Of course not. I just made her understand what’s best for her and that’s UConn,” Paige nudges her back, “just like it was for you.”
“Yeah, it was,” Azzi says softly and they both know she means a lot more than just UConn.
“You um- you have a little bit of ice cream,” Paige points nervously to the edge of Azzi’s lip, hands reaching and then hesitating. And Azzi knows that she should at least attempt to wipe it off herself but she stays deathly still as Paige’s thumb finally makes its way to her face. It’s a featherlight touch that the blonde traces across her lips, their eyes transfixed on each other, neither of them breathing. And they’ve had far more intimate moments than this one but something about this, right here, feels apocalyptic. 
“I meant what I said before,” Paige whispers, “you’re still the most beautiful girl in the world.”
She gulps before starting to move away and Azzi feels a panic course through her blood as she hurriedly grabs the blonde’s hand. And she’s not supposed to do this; she should tell Paige not to say things like that but instead she’s  pulling the blonde closer, hand firmly clasped around her wrist. 
“Azzi,” Paige breathes out, like she wants to stop and start something at the same time. They’ve never really known self-control when it comes to each other. 
“I meant what I said to Stephie too,” Azzi whispers, “you’ve always been the prettiest.”
***
September 2029 
Wings 82 Valkyries 77
Paige almost falls to her knees as the buzzer sounds around the arena. The crowd is on their feet cheering as the Dallas Wings beat the Golden State Valkyries in a hard-fought semi-finals game 5 to advance to the WNBA finals. It takes a brief second and suddenly she has teammates circling all around her as they bask in their well-earned glory. 
“One more series to go. Wings in three,” Satou cheers and the whole team echoes after her. They’re not known to be the closest of teams but at this moment, they almost feel like family. 
Paige is exhausted as she’s ushered to do a sideline interview and she tries really hard to keep the irritation off her face when she realizes it’s Holly Rowe. The questions are generic and some are downright annoying, but Paige’s media training has always been stellar, and despite the fatigue rolling off her body, her answers are heartfelt and charismatic. The interview can’t be longer than three minutes but it feels like a lifetime before she’s finally walking away. Focused on the ground beneath her and trying not to cave into the exhaustion on her way to the media room, Paige doesn’t notice when she goes barrelling into a firm body. 
“Shit I’m so-” the words are stolen from her mouth as Tim Fudd turns around but it’s not him that attracts Paige’s attention. It’s the little girl cradled in his arms, a little girl who looks exactly like the fact that still haunts all of Paige’s memories. Tiny brown eyes stare up at her and Paige is mesmerized by this tiny creature who seems like she could captivate the whole world if she wanted to. 
“Congratulations Paige,” Tim says slowly and Paige tears her eyes away from the baby to look at the man who had once been the person who made it a mission to make her laugh whenever she was on the verge of crying, “I’m really proud of you kid.”
Paige’s eyes sting and she doesn’t know if she wants to run away or beg Tim to give her one of his patented bear hugs, “thank you. It really does mean a lot. She-,” her eyes flicker back down to the little tiny bean, “she’s beautiful.”
“Yeah she is,” pride shines in Tim’s voice, “you wanna hold her?”
“Oh no it’s ok-” Paige begins but before she can finish, there’s a baby being placed in her arms and everything around her seems to come to a standstill. 
“Her name’s Stephanie,” Tim says softly and Paige laughs because of course, of course Azzi would name her daughter Stephanie. 
“Hi Stephanie,” Paige coos, reaching out a finger to tickle the little girl, gasping when Stephanie's small chubby hands grasp it. And then the baby giggles, smiling at Paige as if she’s given her a gift and Paige swears she’s never loved a sound more in her life. 
“Can you hold her for a second while I go find Katie?” Tim asks and Paige shakes her head in panic but he’s already off before she can stop him. And then it’s just her and Stephanie, standing outside the media room. There’s people cluttering in and out of the rooms around her, the whole lobby is bustling with sounds but all Paige can focus on is the girl in her arms. 
“You’re so cute,” Paige whispers in a baby voice and Stephanie giggles, “yes you are, yes you are. I wanna steal you so bad.”
“I don’t think you can win a WNBA championship from jail,” a familiar voice says from behind her and Paige feels her stomach tying itself in knots as she turns to look at Azzi, “maybe try and kidnap my child after the finals?”
There’s a smile playing on Azzi’s lips but a storm brewing in her eyes and Paige knows that if she rests a heart against the darker-skinned girl, she’ll find it beating to the same hyper rhythm as Paige’s. 
“Congratulations Paige,” Azzi says softly as she takes another step towards her, “you guys deserved it.”
“Y’all made it hard as hell-I mean shit-no fuck,” Paige swears and the child in her arms giggles as a litany of curses fall from her mouth. 
Azzi bites her lip, raising her eyebrows in mock exasperation, “in front of my kid? Seriously Bueckers?”
Paige winces, ready to apologize until Stephanie begins to babble “B-buecks,” she giggles, clapping her hands, unaware of how the two adults in her vicinity both freeze, “Buecks. Buecks. Buecks.”
“Yeah sweetheart,” tears prickle against Paige’s waterline, “that’s me,” she looks up at Azzi whose own eyes are watery, “she said my name.”
“Yeah,” Azzi’s voice wobbles, “yeah she did. She’s- she’s a quick learner.”
“Just like her Mama,” Paige whispers, staring at Azzi and she wants to freeze them in this moment, like a still-motion picture she can hang up on her walls and keep with her forever. 
“Mama,” Stephanie burbles, eyes darting between the two women, “Mama. Buecks. Buecks. Mama.”
“You’re so smart Stephanie,” Paige whispers to the little girl, tickling her stomach. She looks up at Azzi with a smile only to find the brunette frowning at Paige’s hand. Confused Paige follows the line of sight until her own eyes catch onto the diamond that’s shining on her ring finger and she can feel her heart drop, “Az-”
“The media’s waiting for you Paige,” Azzi says, the lightness of a few seconds ago replaced with a hard edge. 
“Azzi,” Paige whispers again and she doesn’t know why her tone sounds pleading, doesn’t even know what she’d pleading for but she can feel something slip away from her again. 
“You probably want to go celebrate with your wife,” Azzi spits out the last word like it tastes bitter and sour at the same time, and it lands somewhere in between them, creating a wall that puts them on different sides. And Paige should let it go; she should pretend it’s just a normal sentence uttered without any malice, should pretend that she can no longer read the cadences of Azzi’s voice but instead of putting up a shield, she shoots an arrow. 
“You don’t get to say it like that,” Paige hisses. 
“I didn’t say it like any-”
“Yes you did and you don’t get to do that,” Paige presses, “not when you didn’t want to marry me.”
Azzi flinches. The words, soaked in mistakes of the past, hang like a dagger in between them, ready to sever the thin thread of cordiality that they have tried desperately to maintain. 
“You’re right,” Azzi says finally, her voice ice cold as she reaches for Stephanie, “I didn’t want to marry you,” the dagger twists, “so how about you give me my child back and go find the woman who did.”
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hoshifighting · 2 months ago
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HELP ME!!OMFG GGJFHC OKAY SO I GOT THIS ONE THOUGHT IN MY HEAD SEEING THAT I READ YOUR WONWOO AND JOSHUA THREESOME!!! (WHICH BTW IS REALLY FUCKING GOOD ) BUT AT THE PART WHERE IT SAID THAT JOSHUA AND WONWOO WAS BOTH REALLY CLOSE TO CUMMING I HAD THIS VISION WHERE JOSH IS FUCKING YOU AND HE IS SO SO SO CLOSE TO CUMMIN AND IS SO WHINY ABOUT IT LIKE A WHIMPERING MOANING MESS (I LOVE WHINY BABYBOY JOSH) SO YEAH SEEING THAT YOU'RE A REALLY GOOD WRITER MY FIRST THOUGHT WAS TO ASK YOU BECAUSE YOU WOULD SEE MY VISION AND BRING IT TO LIFE ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS MAKE HIM SUPER DESPERATE AND WHINY AND BASICALLY A MOANING MESS
And oh BTW are you bi (just asking for a friend)
warnings: smut, babyboy whining mess!joshua.
a/n: yes i am, bi pride all day, hope your friend is happy dsoiasdhishd 🙃
hmm moaning mess joshua that you definitely CANT fuck with in public because of his loud ass? FUCK YES! like, the man does not know how to be quiet, and honestly, you kind of love it. there’s been so many times you’ve had to cover his mouth or beg him to keep it down because the walls in your place are way too thin, and your neighbors? yeah, they’ve had enough of his 1 a.m. symphonies. but the second you tell him to shush, he gets all flustered, blushing like crazy, mumbling, “sorry, baby, i’ll try,” but it never lasts. like, two seconds later, and he’s right back to being a whimpering mess, burying his face in your neck, trying and failing to keep it together.
and the thing is, you’d think he’d be the shy one, right? but nah. he loves the idea of getting caught, even though he’s always so embarrassed after, stuttering through his apologies when someone hears you two. you’re touching him, teasing him just a little, and he’s already making those soft little noises, all breathy, like he can’t even help himself.
you remember one time, exactly 3 a.m., because you were wide awake, trying to calm him down. your neighbor had already banged on the wall twice, and you were trying to be good, keep things low-key. but joshua? nah. you were barely touching him, just running your hand down his chest, and he was already gasping, hips jerking up into your touch like he was starving for it. and you had to be like, “josh, you gotta be quiet, seriously,” but he was biting his lip so hard, trying to keep it together, and failing so bad. he just looked up at you, all wide-eyed, breathing like he’d just run a marathon, and whispered, “i’m sorry, i just— i can’t help it.” and then boom, he’s back to moaning into your neck, trying to muffle the sounds but doing a terrible job at it. like, you swear he wants to be caught sometimes. his hands are gripping the sheets so hard, his body trembling, and every little thing you do makes him fall apart even more. you’re barely even teasing him, but every time your hand slides lower, he’s whimpering, like actually whimpering, all desperate and needy.
he tries, he really does, but the moment your lips brush his collarbone or you move a little too fast, it’s over. and public? god. he’s a nightmare in public, but the best kind of nightmare. like, it’s a thrill for him, but he’s so bad at keeping quiet. you’d be out, somewhere so normal like the back of a car, and he’s already panting, eyes darting around like someone’s gonna catch you two, but you know he loves it. he’ll try to hide his face, but the moment your hand slips under his shirt, just a little, you’ve got him trembling again. his breathing’s all erratic, and you can feel him trying to hold back, but it’s not happening. and you’re teasing him, whispering, “u really can’t stay quiet baby?” and he’s just shaking his head, a soft little whine escaping his lips before he finally loses it. it’s always the same—he starts out all shy, biting his lip, cheeks burning red, whispering “i’ll be good, i’ll be quiet,” but it never lasts. you press just the right button, and suddenly, he’s a wreck, moaning so loud you’re half-worried someone’s gonna hear. but at the same time? you love it. you love how he can’t help himself, how he’s so lost in it that he forgets where you even are.
you remember that one time in the kitchen, it was early in the morning, like, nobody should’ve been awake, but there you were, kissing him against the counter. and you weren’t even doing much, just running your hands under his shirt, feeling his abs tense under your touch, when he let out this softest, neediest sound. and you had to stop, look at him, like, “seriously? here?” and he just nodded.
you were trying to be nice, trying to keep it slow, but the more you touched him, the louder he got. “you gotta be quiet,” you said, but he just whimpered, nodding, trying to bite his lip again but failing. and every time your hand moved lower, you could feel the tension in him, the way his body was practically begging for more. he was trying so hard to keep it together. and then it happened—he let out this loud, shaky moan, and you had to cover his mouth with your hand, whispering, “joshua, seriously, someone’s gonna hear.” but he just groaned into your palm, eyes screwed shut, hips bucking up into your touch. and honestly? you love that about him. that no matter how much he tries to be quiet, he just can’t. you’re the only one who can turn him into that moaning mess, into someone who’s so lost in you that nothing else matters.
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vilhelios · 4 months ago
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-; SWEET MUSIC PLAYING IN THE DARK.
your poor, overworked, singer-songwriter boyfriend has not been having a good time with comeback season. thankfully, he has you, his muse, to kickstart his creative processes—sadly, that means he's going to write yet another love song about you in his group's newest album.
CW: k-pop idol/group au! fluff, fluff and more fluff! mentions of xavier, zayne, sylus, and caleb ; not beta read, small text, all lowercase letters.
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“and this—” a kiss to the jaw. “—is part of—” another kiss, a shiver jolting down your spine at the feel of his lips against your pulse point. “—your creative process?”
it’s almost embarrassing how small your voice is now, loud in the silence of rafayel’s little studio. your hands clench and unclench around rafayel’s white shirt as he peppers kisses up and down your neck, not a single sliver of your exposed skin remaining unkissed. (after all, he’d say, he must drown in every part of you.)
“hey, every artist needs their muse.” rafayel shrugs, his hands at your waist grabbing at the warm flesh there, a teasing yet grounding touch. “i just need to be appreciating said muse to get the lyrics flowing in my head.”
before you can say much else, he nuzzles his face against the crook of your neck, and he practically melts into you as he breathes in your comforting, familiar scent. like fresh laundry, citrus, honey; he recognises it as the new perfume he bought for you just a few months ago (oh, god bless royalties and good album sales… he gets to spoil his little darling). a happy little sigh leaves him as he nuzzles against you again, shifting to let your bodies melt together in a happy little pile on his office chair—you’re just what he needs after a stressful day of brainstorming new lyrics and melodies with zayne and sylus, banging his head against the wall designing concept art for the new album’s cover, and being dragged around the dance studio (half-dead and limbless) by caleb and xavier.
“yeah, i know…” you sigh, and move your hands upward, fingers curling in his soft purple hair. luckily enough, he hasn’t had to dye his hair yet, what with linkon’s netizens finding his hair to be a particularly lovable part of his charm. (they’d be right; also up there are his big, beautiful eyes, and his impressive vocal range.) there’s a beat of silence, and then you speak up again, pressing a kiss to his hair just as he presses one in kind to your throat; “are the lyrics popping up in your head…?”
“hmm.” rafayel hums, almost like he’s thinking about it. “no.” he says, simple as that, and chuckles when you groan in exasperation. “all the ones i can think of wouldn’t fit the theme. and sy would actually kill me for making us sing another ballad that was clearly inspired by you.”
(they’ve released two albums and five eps, rounding up to about 50 songs in their discography… a good chunk of the love songs rafayel got his hands on in the production process felt like individual love letters written and sung just for you. It’s starting to reach a point where some of the smarter hunters—as their fandom is called—have deduced that at least one of the boys is in a relationship.)
“really?” you raise an eyebrow at him, hand moving to pinch his cheek, “well… if it’s anything like your usual songs about me… I can agree that it doesn’t match the theme.” you pull back a little—which elicits a whine from rafayel—to look at his current getup, which he’d been too lazy to change out of after the photobook photoshoot: a crisp white shirt, black pants, and leather chest harnesses. his hands, idly rubbing up and down your sides, were adorned in black leather gloves. all in all, an attractive outfit that’s trying to encapsulate a “bad boy”, mafia vibe. “i'll have to side with sy on this one.”
“even mafiosos can sing about how they’d love their darling in every universe, y’know.” rafayel hums, leaning back to rest his head properly on the chair, eyes trained on your face. his hands continue their idle smoothing down your sides, touch gentle and warm through the layers of fabric separating your skin. those beautiful indigo-pink eyes hold that heartbreaking softness in them, and it makes you want to gently run your thumbs under the dark circles under his eyes. (you never noticed, not until caleb pointed it out, but he only ever looks at you this way.)
rafayel’s next words are soft, without the characteristic teasing and filled with something akin to reverence: “what’s the harm in another song?” he whispers, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek, "it’s just another universe to profess my love to you in, my darling muse.”
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a/n: ... i saw rafayel in a harness, blacked out, and thirty minutes later this was ready on my word document. uhm. so those cards huh... (i have. enough pulls to secure you. but please come home early rafayel). reupload bc I FORGOT HOW TO TUMBLR??? and forgot tags 😭
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luffysscraps · 1 year ago
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In the One Piece fanfic space, Luffy is either completely Asexual never having the thought of sex before. Or a sex manic with a sex drive of ‘I need to cum every 30 minutes’. There’s no in between.
🔞 Drabble;
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While I see the argument for both sides, I’m on the sex manic side because imagine how goofy sex with him would be. You’ll end up laughing and cumming at the same time. And I just find it really funny to imagine him begging for pussy.
“Please! Please! Please! I’m horny again Y/N!”
“We just had sex 18 minutes ago!”
He will actually start sobbing, banging his fist on the floor, and screaming for your body. He has no shame and doesn’t care who’s around to see his pussy tantrum. Once you finally give in his face lights up like an excited puppy. He claps his hands and gives a little “Yahoo!” Before slinging you over his shoulders, throwing you on the bed and mounting you in a heart beat. You don’t know how or when he had taken off your clothes; they seemed to just disintegrate once he threw you on the bed.
And when you two are having sex, EVERYONE KNOWS. This man is wild in the sheets, the head board is banging against the wall rapidly, the creaks and cries coming from the bed frame, His own sounds covering the whole entire room. He doesn’t know his own strength and his mind kind of goes blank, thrusting and feeling good is the only thing on his mind. Which has resulted in your bed frame breaking more then once.
You vaguely remember a time where he was focused so much on cumming that he didn’t even notice his rapid movements had caused the wooden planks of the boat to collapse and fall down to the third floor scaring Usopp half to death. (You passed out a long time ago or else you would have been screaming too) Once he finally came he just looked around blankly like “Oh hey Usopp! How’d we get down here?” With an innocent smile as if he didn’t just blow your back completely out.
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My good god. I can’t. He’s just too goofy to take seriously. I’m on the sex manic Luffy side, it’s too funny to not think about.
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the-fiction-witch · 6 months ago
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Illusion
Media - Doctor Who (The Lodger Episode) Character - The Doctor (11th) Couple - The Doctor X Reader Reader - Y/n (Companion) Rating - Flirty Word Count - 2857
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The doctor bounced around his room, jumping on the bed, still getting accustomed to his room. He had been a lodger with the human Craig for about three days and was already losing his mind pretending to be a human. Of course, The Doctor wasn’t exactly the best at being a human, unsure of the human ways and habits. All the little things that wouldn’t make him look insane so was having to check in very regularly with his human companion back in the Tardis. 
"Honestly? As if being trapped here on Earth wasn't bad enough, I'm starting to think I've gone crazy having to listen to the neighbours screaming at each other for days on end over the most mundane of things!" he complained, "How about you? I'm going to assume that you're having a much better time back at the Tardis,"
"Welcome to humanity." she giggled, "Tardis is fine,"
He sat back up and stared at the walls around him for a good five seconds before letting out another groan, he felt like banging his head against the wall, "Y/n, do me a favour and start doing something useful, I desperately need something to keep me distracted or I'm going to start screaming,"
"Why not read a book?"
The Doctor let out a frustrated sigh before he rolled onto his back and groaned loudly. He glanced over at his small bookshelf before rolling over to the edge of his bed and grabbing the nearest book on it. "I've read all of these already, and nothing that came out since has held my interest!" He flipped through the pages of the book, 
"Write a book?" 
He slammed the book shut and threw it across the room in frustration, "I'm better at doing stuff, like exploring the universe!" The Doctor suddenly perked up as an idea popped into his head "Or, I could build something, or explore some of the buildings here in the city, anything with more action than sitting on my sofa staring at the walls all night because no one here is interesting!"
"Why don't you do the human thing, order a takeaway, drink a beer, and watch crap TV?"
"Absolutely not! I think I'd rather claw out my eyes then watch old reruns of the old Eastenders, and reality TV! Give me anything else that isn't that or Love Island for the love of all time!" He shuddered at the mere thought of having to watch shows like that... He absolutely hated the idea of it
She giggled, "Well... How about I put the Tardis into a safe orbit mode, and come down? Help to sell the illusion you’re really a human if you actually interact with someone, and I'll come to keep you company we can get some food in, and have a drink," she suggested "I get to show you the fun of a human evening,"
The Doctor raised an eyebrow as he thought about it for a moment. On one hand he really hated the idea of doing any of those things, but he supposed it was better than spending a night watching Love Island of all things so he begrudgingly gave in. "...Fine! I suppose I can suffer through an evening of acting like a regular human and all the pointless things they do at night like drinking alcohol and stuffing their faces with bad food."
"All right be there in five," she rang off,
The Doctor quickly got up from the edge of his bed and quickly started tidying up the small bedroom he had to make it look like an actual human lived there. He stuffed anything that would look odd and alien underneath the blankets. A book here and there along with just some general random stuff that would give away his secret. Just a couple of minutes later he had managed to get rid of most of the things before hearing a knock at the door,
The Doctor quickly rushed towards the door, reaching it just before Craig, He put on his best happy smile and quickly opened the door up. He was greeted by the sight of Y/n in front of him, looking every bit as ordinary as him.
Y/n smiles in her little blue dress and black tights one of her usual outfits giving the doctor a hug to help sell the illusion of two normal people who knew one another "Hey!" 
"Hey! Come on in then, I was starting to get bored to death in here without you,” He quickly returned the hug, though his focus wasn't on the hug... he couldn't stop staring at her outfit, especially at the tights she was wearing ...That definitely... made things harder considering how her outfit looked with every move she made. He quickly tried to shake the thoughts out of his head and just act casually.
"uhhh who is this?" Craig asked curiously, 
"Oh! Right, this is my... er..." The Doctor glanced over at Y/n for a moment before giving a smile, "Girlfriend! Yes, girlfriend. She's my girlfriend!"
"ohh..." Y/n blushed a little not expecting that to be his excuse, "Hi, Y/n" She introduced herself to Craig the two met and had a small chat about things as people do her normal human way giving the doctor's human persona a much better chance of being believable, 
"How on earth do you put with him?" Craig laughed,
"Ohh you know... I love him" she answered giving the doctor's cheek a kiss,
The Doctor couldn't help but blush a little bit as Y/n kissed his cheek, he was very surprised by how convincing she was at pretending they were actually a couple. The entire thought of her being that convincingly believable made him feel a slight fluttering in his stomach which for someone like him...was unusual. He continued to smile, though it was a little strained from how uncomfortable he was starting to feel being around two regular humans and having to pretend he was just like one of them.
Luckily Y/n knew he was feeling uncomfortable so managed to skirt them away towards his bedroom but Craig stopped the doctor before he could follow her
"Hey, uhh look no issues with you having your girlfriend over but you know maybe... Give me a heads up next time?"
The Doctor glanced over towards Y/n before looking back at Craig and nodding his head. "Oh yes, yes. Next time I'll make sure to mention that she'll be coming over, my apologies." He gave a small apologetic smile, but he secretly just wanted to get out of that conversation and spend time in the bedroom with Y/n.
"no problem, I'm heading off to the pub anyway so... You have fun" Craig winked,
The Doctor gave a small nod before immediately heading over towards the bedroom with Y/n. Once he was inside he let out a long sigh as he closed the door and leaned back against it. "Remind me never to do something like that again! Having to act normal for so long for people is hard."
She giggled "thanks?" She sounded fake offended sitting on the bed, 
"You know what I mean!" The Doctor rolled his eyes playfully at her as he walked further into the room. He went over to his bed and sat down by her, letting out another long sigh before glancing over at her "So, since this is supposed to be a 'normal human night'... What are we supposed to do first? Watch rubbish on TV or order food that will give us a heart attack?"
"rubbish TV, order food, drink beer, and make terrible decisions" she smiled 
He glanced over at her his eyes once again drawn to her outfit and those tights again. "I really don't understand human fashion..."
she chuckled, "What about it?"
"It just looks... uncomfortable. That's all. Just look at the tights you're wearing. You've got to squeeze into them like a sausage!" He looked her up and down for a moment with a small frown on his face while still having issues taking his eyes away from the tights.
"Thanks Doctor!" She said slightly more offended,
The Doctor immediately realized his mistake and shook his head immediately, reaching out gently to take her hands into his. "No, no, no! I didn't mean you! You look lovely, really! I just... I just don't understand how it's even comfortable to wear things like that. And it makes everything so much more difficult for me to focus..."
"you wear a suit and bowtie everyday doctor I'm not sure you can really comment on comfortable outfits besides I like my tights"
"... Fair point, though in my defence those outfits are very fashionable and comfortable! And your tights are... very distracting." He gave a small laugh but he couldn't take his eyes off the way hers were wrapped around her legs as she moved.
she chuckled "You rather I take them off?" She raised an eyebrow,
The Doctor's eyes widened slightly as his mind suddenly became far more empty as the words left her mouth. He stared at her for a moment or two before he mentally slapped himself and quickly shook his head. "... No! I... That's not at all what I meant! I just... they're... distracting! That's all!"
"you are spending too much time down here" she giggled leaning on his headboard "you're becoming a bit too human..."
The Doctor leaned back onto the headboard as he took a sip of the beer, still staring at her legs and those tights. At this point he was completely mesmerized by the way they looked against her skin. "What does that even mean?" The Doctor finally managed to tear his gaze away from her legs and looked over at her, forcing himself to focus on what she was saying for once.
"you’re become predictable. Like a human man."
A look of complete shock immediately took over the Doctor's face in response to her words. He suddenly looked genuinely offended as he looked over at her. "I am not predictable! Predictable? Me? I am the least predictable person you'll ever meet! There is nothing predictable about me at all!" He glared directly at her, not at all happy with how she had labelled him. He clearly did not like being thought of as predictable in the slightest.
"you are becoming predicable down here" she smiled "you’re slowing down... Acting more human"
The Doctor's expression softened after she said that, he went silent for a few seconds, the truth of what she was saying slowly sinking in. He leaned back against the headboard and took another sip of the beer before speaking again. "Maybe... Maybe you're right. Time Lords aren't exactly used to being human. I never wanted to be human... I never wanted to think like one, act like one..." He frowned for a moment before turning his gaze to look at her.
"well it won't be long just till you figure this thing out. Then you can come back to the Tardis and we can go off wherever you need to get back to, an unpredictable, madman with a box that I love so much" she cooed laying her head on his shoulder
A small, genuine smile appeared on his face as she laid against him. He gently put his arm around her and held her close, leaning against her with a happy sigh. "Once I'm myself again, the first thing I'm going to do is take us somewhere completely unexpected. I think it's a good time to finally show you Gallifrey." A look of deep contemplation appeared in his eyes as he looked down at her. He could practically feel his heart pounding.
"... Really?!" She sat up looking into his eyes "You... You would take me there? But you always said you've never taken any companions there?" 
"Yes... I... I will. I'm going to show you my home, I never said anything but now... I want you to see where I came from." He smiled gently, his gaze not leaving her.
Y/n trembled a little tears welling up in her eyes "But... You've had so long, so many other companions you could have taken and ... It's me? I get to go?"
The Doctor nodded his head without an ounce of hesitation in him. "You! Who else would I want to show Gallifrey other than you? You matter most to me." As he continued to look at her, he could see the tears starting and that immediately made him smile even more. "I'll show you everything I can... I'll show you how beautiful the orange skies of Gallifrey are. I'll show you the mountains and the rivers. Everything."
She hugged him tight squeezing him in her arms as she cried tears of joy "Thank you thank you thank you! I promise I'll be on my best behaviour, I'll listen to everything you say, I'll be good and follow all the rules and you can pick my outfit before we go just to make sure!" She began rambling,
The Doctor hugged her back just as tight, holding her securely and smiling happily as he did. He gently pulled her onto his lap and held her against him, rubbing her back as she let out all of her emotions on him. "I'll make sure you have the best experience you could ever imagine while we're there. I'll hold your hand the entire time, you won't even have a chance to misbehave."
she nodded excitedly "okay!"
He gently reached over and brushed a few of her tears away while resting his other hand on her thigh, gently and absentmindedly rubbing her leg a bit. He looked at her and had a small twinge of guilt come to him as he finally realized just how happy she was to share in such an intimate moment with him. 
she giggled looking down at his hand "I should wear tights more often" 
The Doctor immediately realized what he was doing and shook his head, instantly removing his hand with a flustered look on his face as he leaned back against the headboard. "No! No no, I... I need to get my brain under control. Focus on something else, anything..."
She giggled grabbing his hand and putting it back on her thigh"very common human thing, to watch TV and cuddle" she smiled nuzzling into his chest 
He groaned softly as she placed his hand back on her thigh. He wanted to argue against it, but he really didn't want to. He stared at her with a slightly pained frown as he once again started gently rubbing her leg. "Cuddling is a human thing, you're right." He paused for a moment pulling her thighs a little so she sat in his lap before continuing in a mumbled tone. "Though I think I'd rather watch you instead."
She giggled a little about to speak when the bedroom door suddenly opened and in a rush of sudden thought Y/n remembered they had to look like a human couple so immediately grabbed the doctor by the neck and pulled his lips to hers immediately starting a heavy make out as if they had been doing this for hours, He instinctively put his arms around her, wrapping them around her waist and kissing her back, his tongue gently sliding into her mouth. He didn't even react as Craig opened the door, too caught up in what he was doing.
Frankly, her already being in his bed and sitting on his lap was likely enough to sell the illusion already but the kiss was just the sugar on top, 
"Ohh uhh? Sorry for interrupting -" Craig began,
After a few moments of intense kissing, the Doctor pulled away from her for a moment to catch his breath. "Hello, Craig! What's up? Can't you see we're a little busy?" The Doctor quickly said before immediately pulling Y/n closer.
"Right yes sorry just uhh going out I'll be back later. I'll lock the door." Craig nodded a little awkward
"That's fine, no worries! Have fun, we'll probably still be here all night." He quickly went back to kissing her afterwards, gently biting down on her bottom lip.
Craig nodded and shut the bedroom door heading out to go to the pub, 
The Doctor was completely caught up in the kiss, completely focused on the taste of her lips, how good she felt sitting in his lap, how wonderful those tights were still looking... His mind was going a mile a minute while his hand gently and absentmindedly started going up her thigh before he even realized what he was doing.
She blushed hard and kissed back the kisses now turning into a hot and heavy make out her voice moaned into his mouth, his mind exploded from the sound alone. He suddenly couldn’t think about anything but her, completely focused on this new feeling that was overtaking him. He deepened the kiss in response, pulling her closer and running his hand slowly up her back before gently biting down onto her lower lip.
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flowerxbunnie · 1 year ago
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can you write ab my matty pooh? like he’s streaming, you come in and everything’s chill at first but then you start getting frisky so he has to turn camera off and mute mic. then y’all do it and have some freaky sex, but afterwards you find out he fucked up and didn’t mute it, and everyone heard you freaks pls 🧎🏻‍♀️
Quiet
Matt x Fem Reader
Warnings: SMUTTY smut smut smut
DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR.
@lustfulslxt I changed it up a little bit from the request I don’t think you’ll mind 🤭🫶🏻
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“FUCK DUDE. I knew he was gonna peek around the corner this game is BULLSHIT.”
I hear Matt’s hands slam into his desk for the millionth time tonight, the walls and my headphones muffling his noise, but not nearly enough. I swear he’s always the loudest when I’m trying to focus on something.
“Shut the fuck up Matt, I’m trying to enjoy my movie!” I yell, banging my fist on the wall that separates our rooms.
“Sorry Y/n!” He yells back, then speaks normally, “my roommate told me I’m being too loud boys. NO not my brothers dumbass, why would I call them roommates? ….I don’t know I think they’re at some meeting?….Yeah they’ll be on later I’m sure.”
I hear his one sided conversation, the other voices confined into his headset. I hit play on my movie and shove some more kettle corn into my mouth.
“NO! FUCK THIS GUY HE HAS TO HAVE HACKS ON THERES ACTUALLY NO WAY.”
I hit pause and stand up, too frustrated to try and talk to him through a wall again. I throw my bowl onto my bed, not even caring about the spill of crumbs, and yank my door open to head to his room next door. I don’t even knock as I barge in, stomping my way over to him as he pulls the headset off of one ear.
“Matthew Bernard. What do you not understand about quiet time after 6?”
I can hear the voices on the other side of his headset now, not sure how he isn’t deaf at this point with how loud he has it.
“Mommy come to quiet you down Matty?” “Oooh someone’s in trouble..” they laugh and go on teasing him.
“Hang on boys.” He presses a button on the microphone and it goes red as he tosses his headset onto the desk.
“Y/n that is so fucking embarrassing. You don’t have to barge in like I’m some little kid and yell at me like that.” Matt says, rolling his chair back to scoot further away from the desk.
“We have literally talked about this so many times Matthew. After 6 is the only time it’s quiet in this house. I’m literally just trying to watch Titanic and I can’t hear shit over your fucking toddler tantrums.”
“Titanic? Like we haven’t all seen that together 50 times? I’m pretty sure I could watch that on mute and still know exactly what’s going on,” he argues, throwing his hands up.
“That’s not the fucking point, dude. I literally can’t even hear my own thoughts with how loud you’re being. You could also wake up old people in the neighborhood or… something, I don’t even know. Just please keep it the fuck down.”
“Keep it the fuck down, huh?” he questions sarcastically, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs out, interlocking his hands behind his head. “These walls are pretty thin, sweetheart, and I’m pretty sure I’ve heard you partaking in some not so quiet activities after 6 before.”
My face immediately flushes and I can feel how red I am. I blink a couple times at him before I start to get angry again.
“What the fuck are you talking about Matthew? You’re actually disgusting.”
“I didn’t think it was too disgusting. I just think it’s funny that you’re all over my ass about keeping it down when I can hear you touching yourself nearly every other night.”
As if I couldn’t turn more red, my ears start to throb from the blood flow spreading across my body. I can’t even think of anything to say, so I don’t.
“What’s wrong, Y/n? Cat got your tongue?”
“Fuck you dude, that’s actually so wrong to bring up.” I shake my head at him.
“What baby? I thought we were just airing out our concerns about quiet time.” He bites his tongue and I see it press against the inside of his cheek. “You know, it really disturbs my peace when I have to hear you in there, rolling around on your bed and making those pretty little noises. Probably making such a mess of yourself huh?”
Fuck, why am I getting turned on by him? He’s being such an asshole. But even so, I can’t help but notice the creeping warmth between my thighs.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Matthew, but can you please just talk at a normal volume with your friends so I can enjoy my movie?” I say, starting to turn around and walk out.
His hand reaches out and grabs my arm, pulling me back to face him with a dead look in his eyes.
“Sit on my desk.”
“What the fuck kind of question is that? I’m not-” I get half of my argument out before I’m cut off by his hands grabbing my hips and lifting me off the ground, sitting me down onto his desk, knocking over multiple things in the process.
“It wasn’t a question.” he responds, scooting his chair closer to me and parting my thighs to sit between them.
I’m looking down at him, one of my best friends, his eyes completely different and darker than I’ve ever seen them before.
“What are you doing Matt?” I whisper, feeling his warm hands slide up my thighs and stop at the hem of my silk shorts, his fingers toying with them.
“You seem so serious about me keeping the noise down. I just wanna see how good you can be at it.”
My breath hitches as one of his hands resume its movement and starts to crawl up my shorts agonizingly slow. The other hand comes up to the back of my head, lacing into my hair and pulling me down face to face with him.
His lips ghost at my ear and I can hear his deep breathing. “You just have to let me know if you want to try.”
He pulls me back to make eye contact and I nod, watching as the devilish grin spreads across his face.
“You’re already so good at this baby.”
He brings his face close to mine, my lips aching to feel his but he never closes the distance. I open my mouth to complain, but remember not to because I want to win this more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
He rubs the soft skin of his bottom lip against my top lip with as little pressure as possible and I feel my heat throbbing in anticipation of his next move. His hands trail farther up my shorts as his breath fans over my face, our lips still hovering apart. He explores for my underwear and his hands abruptly stop as he feels just skin.
“No panties? Such a little slut, Y/n.” he says before connecting our lips in a slow, heated kiss. We kiss with such passion and need, like if we stopped the Earth would stop turning. Our tongues dance together as his hands make their way back down my thighs before coming up and brushing against the waistband of my shorts.
“You want me to take them off, don’t you?”
I nod, scooting my hips closer to him to make it easier.
“Tell me how bad you want it, baby. You want me to take them off and touch you here?” He slides his hand down and rubs impossibly slow over my burning core through my shorts, trying to tempt me to break and talk.
I let out the quietest whimper possible, wanting so badly to be able to tell him all the filthy things I need from him.
“Hmm? Nothing to say?” He tilts his head and continues rubbing me, before sarcastically adding, “oh yeah, it’s quiet time isn’t it?”
He chuckles at himself and hooks his fingers into my waistband before pulling them down and off of me, parting my thighs again to return to his spot.
“Look at that, all wet for me. I’ve barely even touched you, baby.” He says in a fake sympathetic tone.
Before I can process what’s happening, his head dips down and he begins lapping at my pussy, his tongue giving the perfect amount of warmth and pressure to draw a moan out of me.
“Oh sweet girl, we have to keep it down. Don’t you remember?” He starts licking again as soon as he finishes his question, and I can’t help but to bring my hands into his hair and pull, needing some kind of release since I can’t make noise.
My hips involuntarily buck towards him to get him as close to me as I can- so close I can feel his nose brush against my clit. He swirls his tongue in delicious circles and at some point I swear I can feel him use his tongue to trace the letters of his name into my pussy.
My stomach is tightening and my head is thrown back, and I don’t know if I can keep up this quiet game for much longer. It’s becoming almost impossible because his fingers are now trailing their way up to my bikini line, teasing my skin in the best way. His fingers slowly find a place to rest against my entrance and his eyes flicker up to meet mine. His pupils are dilated and his eyelids are half closed, the look of need on his face.
“Want me to make you cum, baby?” he asks in a raspy and low voice.
I test the waters with confidence and answer, “P-please Matt.”
His hand draws back and I feel a sting as he slaps my pussy, the mix of pleasure and pain almost too good.
“I thought we talked about staying quiet, Y/n? You’re not being a very good girl for me right now.” He almost hisses, his eyes darkening.
“I was going to let you cum all over my fingers,” he starts, standing up from his spot and I want to whine at the loss of contact so bad. “But I think I’ll just fuck you and see if you can prove yourself.”
He grabs my waist and pulls me off the desk onto my feet, pushing his chair back to make enough room to spin me around and bend me over the desk. His hand comes down to slap my ass hard enough to make me jump and suck in a breath.
“You think you can keep that pretty little mouth shut this time?” He leans down as he whispers into my ear.
I nod furiously and throw my head down onto the desk with a thud, my frustration growing as my pussy is dripping at this point. I feel his fingers running up and down my folds before they are pulled away, and shortly after I hear his pants hitting the floor. I turn my head around and I’m met with him pumping his cock using my juices as lubrication. I almost drool at the sight, biting my lip and staring into his eyes.
“Arch up a little for me baby.”
I do as I’m told, laying my head back down and standing on my tiptoes with my chest pressed against the desk. I feel one of his hands come to rest on my ass, spreading me open for him before his head makes the slightest contact with my entrance.
I’m biting my lip so hard to keep the noises in that I can taste an iron like taste- I’m honestly pathetic, drawing my own blood to keep quiet for him. He pushes into me and I feel myself stretching around his dick, causing my hips to twitch and jerk at the pain.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I just know your pussy will be so perfect for me. I’m gonna make it fit.” He says in a sickly sweet voice before spitting onto the spot where our bodies have become one.
He pushes deeper into me, his warm saliva allowing him to bottom out and his hips to sit flush against my ass.
“Holy fuck, so tight baby. So so perfect for me, just like I knew it would be.” he moans as he begins pumping himself in and out of me.
All I can do is sit there and take it, trying my hardest to contain myself. All I want to do is scream his name and tell him how fucking good this feels.
Both of his hands rest on my hips, his rings digging into my skin as he holds me in place. I can hear him cursing and moaning as he speeds up his pace and his pressure.
“Why aren’t you saying anything, sweetheart? Oh, right…” he mocks before pushing as deep as he could into me and holding it for a second, hitting the deepest and most sensitive spot.
I whimper in reaction and brace in anticipation of his large hand to smack my ass, but it doesn’t happen.
I turn around to see his lust filled eyes staring back at me.
“Fuck this stupid game, I need to hear more of those pretty little noises.” He says before picking his pace back up, slamming in and out of me hard enough to knock his headset and microphone off the desk.
“FUCK Matt, please please don’t stop, pleeeease,” I draw out, gripping the back edge of the desk so hard my knuckles turn white. I whimper and whine freely, no longer scared of the repercussions of the dumb game we had started.
“Fuck, you make me wanna do horrible nasty things, Y/n. I just want to ruin you for everyone else. Need that pussy to belong to me.” he pants out, his grip on my hips deepening and his thrusts becoming sloppy as his legs begin to shake.
My stomach tightens after his possessive thoughts spill from his lips.
“I’m all yours, Matt. F-fuck, all yours baby.” I moan out before beginning to throw my hips back halfway to meet his tired thrusts.
“I know you’ve wanted this as long as I have, tell me how bad you needed me, baby.” he leans down to whisper into my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine.
“I t-touch myself thinking of you, Matt. I’ve needed you for so long,” I admit.
His dick throbs inside of me, threatening his release at any second. I feel my pussy clench around him as my own high approaches, earning a deep growl from him before he grits his teeth and says, “Let me cum in you, please I need to, Y/n.”
“Fuck Matt please,” I moan out as I feel myself topple over the edge, waves of pleasure taking over as I grind my hips back into him. Soon after, I feel his warm release pumping deep into me and my name rolling off his tongue as if he’s in a trance. His thrusts die down and we both sigh as we come out the other side of our orgasms together.
He collapses down onto me before pushing himself back up to keep his weight from crushing me into the desk. His lips leave soft kisses across my shoulder blades as we both try to catch our breath, sweat glistening on our bodies. He pulls himself out of me slowly before lifting me off the desk, a much more tender side of him coming back to the surface.
We share a few soft kisses and caress each other, both taking in what just happened.
Our heads snap to the side as we hear muffled talking, worried Nick and Chris came home. Matt hurries to the window in a panic, peeking out the blinds before turning back to me.
“I don’t know what the fuck we both just heard, but I’m pretty sure they’re still gone.” He exhales deeply before reaching down to pick up the items that had fallen off his desk in our careless moments.
I gasp as he throws the headset violently to the ground and scurries away, a look of panic written across his face.
“Y/n the fucking mic is on..” he says as the blood drains from his face.
“What the fuck.. how? I watched you mute it!” I slap my hands to my face, the most embarrassing pit forming in my stomach.
“I guess when it fell off the desk? I have no fucking clue,” he whispers.
I sigh and walk over to the headset and press it against my ear, hearing tons of remarks and laughter from Matt’s friends on the other side.
“I really didn’t think he’d ever get to hit! Props to him though, he’s been in love with her forever I swear.”
“Fuck Matt please don’t stop please!!” Another voice mocks in their best girly voice.
“You gotta take care of this one, Matty. I’m gonna shower and finish my movie,” I say, handing him the headset and placing one more kiss on his lips before smiling and grabbing my shorts to head out the door. I turn around giggling and say one more thing that I have to get out.
“Remember to keep it down this time, please.”
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the-sun-is-also-a-star · 1 year ago
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if you're one of those people who are like "oh my god im so ocd!!" and then you just like to be organized, shut the fuck up. literally shut the FUCK up. You have no fucking idea what its like. Its like being trapped in a mental prison. Its being called weird and ridiculed by my own family because i have to wash my hands between helpings of food or because i have to run out of the bathroom when i flush the toilet or because even when i smell something awful i have to breath through my nose instead of my mouth because if i breath through my mouth it feels like i can taste it. Its developing conditions that accompany it, like excoriation disorder which makes me dig into my nails so hard they're permanently fucked up and look ghastly and sometimes even bleed and which means i have scabs on my head all the fucking time because i pick at them constantly, or misophonia which makes me flinch at every trigger sound, it gets so bad to the point where i start hitting myself and had to move away from walls because i was sure i was going to bang my head against one. hard. It's having violent intrusive thoughts, sick intrusive thoughts, thoughts that make you stay up into all hours of the night and fret over whether you're a good person, thoughts that make you think about death all the time. your own death, death of loved ones, how people will die, how people will react to you dying. It's having morality ocd, which makes you hate yourself more than anything after any minor mess up. It changes your life. Its fucking hard to live with. so i never want to hear "oh I'm so ocd" from people who aren't actually ocd ever a-fucking-gain.
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pretending-ican-write · 9 months ago
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Cowboy Up - Pt.4
A/n: I think there will be another part after this before the show starts and they will be getting together! I'm currently going through episode by episode and pulling out all the scenes I want to be a part of this. No promises that this won't get abandoned or take forever to write but I do have a mental endgame for it in s5!
Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader
WC: 871
Previous part - Next part
---
The peace of a still sleeping bunkhouse was disturbed by Rip rushing in and the loud bang of the door against the wall.  
“Lloyd, have you seen y/n?  She didn’t answer the door and the trailer’s locked,” he asked hurriedly scanning the bunkhouse, “Ryan why the fuck are you on the couch?”
Rip looked at the hand under the blankets and connected dots as Lloyd stirred from his own bunk to ask what was going on.  The foreman stormed into the other room to find exactly what he expected, y/n just waking up in Ryan’s bunk.  She rolled over and looked over up at him confused.
Y/n pulled herself up in the bed, “why are you shouting at 4 in the fuckin��� morning Rip?”
In lieu of an answer, he turned back around to where Ryan was waking up and hauled him to his feet to shove against the wall.  Suddenly everyone in the bunkhouse was awake and aware of what was going on.  They all surrounded the pair but nobody was about to get in the middle of whatever was going on, except y/n who was being kept from getting in between them by Jake.
“What the fuck is she doing in your bunk,” he growled.
Y/n shook Jake off her, “the hell Rip!  There’s no heat in the trailer and I was freezing my ass off in the barn so he insisted I come in here.  Stop being such an overprotective asshole!”
“If you even think about laying a finger on her in any capacity I’ll have them,” Rip threatened before releasing him and turned to the rest of them, “that goes for every one of you fuckers.  She’s off limits.”
He didn’t wait for an answer and headed out of the bunkhouse leaving the crew speechless.  Y/n turned to Ryan and checked that he was okay before storming after the foreman.
“What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing Rip!” She yelled at him, “you have no right to do that.”
Rip turned to glare at her, “he’s taking advantage of you.”
“Oh give me a break.  He was being a gentlemen which is more than can be said for most people in there.  I’m not a little girl that needs your protection anymore.  I can make my own decisions and I’m big enough to own my mistakes and Ryan certainly wouldn’t be one.  But I don’t think you need to worry, I’m hardly his first pick,” she finished bitterly.
Y/n went back to the bunkhouse in search of coffee, leaving Rip to wonder what on earth she had meant.
-/-/-
A few years later (like 6 months before the show starts)
After a long day of working the cattle for the spring gather, everyone from the valley was settled around the corral enjoying Gator’s cooking and each other’s company.  Y/n was sat to the side of the crowd having finished her food, just taking in the atmosphere of her favourite day of the year.  Gentle country music filled the air from a speaker Jamie had set up by the grill and some of the hands were showing kids how to rope on the dummy steer.  A smile graced her face as she watched Ryan and one of the newer hands, Colby who had become fast friends with him, helping a young girl swing the lasso above her head.
John watched his daughter from his seat next to Lee and how at peace she seemed with her life back on the ranch.  He picked up his beer and went to join her on the straw bale she’d claimed.  Y/n smiled at her father sat next to her before turning her attention back to the scene in front of her.  They sat in a comfortable silence for a little while, a significant improvement on how they’d been when she returned years ago.
“I think it’s time that we have our annual conversation,” John started, “even if nothing has changed.”
She took her eyes off the wranglers to look at her dad, “everything and nothing has changed dad.  I belong here again.  I finally feel like I’m part of it again.  But Kayce still isn’t here and I don’t see that ever changing.  I love you but you’re a stubborn man and lord knows my brother is too.”
“You set the terms but being back under the roof is where you belong,” he pushed.
Y/n allowed the silence to envelop them again as she thought through what was being put in front of her.  The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the valley.  The wranglers had left the kids to the roping in favour of beers by the fence and Ryan winked when they made eye contact.  
“I’ll come back,” she relented, “but you don’t get a say over what I do and when I’m there.  I’m still gonna spend time at the bunkhouse because at the end of the day I’m a wrangler and those are my friends.  It took long enough for them to see me as more than just your daughter and I don’t want them to see me differently again.”
John smiled at her, “I’m just happy you’ll be truly home.”
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