#and nothing else for the rest of the night

[maxinesgun]

i'll keep you warm ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

pairing: jackson!abby x fem!reader

summary: you're in jackson with the salt lake crew, and tensions are high. losing herself in you on a cold night is the perfect way for abby to ease her pent-up worry and agitation.

cw: nsfw, porn with plot, soft dom!abby, tribbing, fingering (r!receiving), boob touching/licking, tense and stressed abby, established relationship, semi-public (?), dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl), fluff then smut, reader comforting abby. 3.1k

a/n: there's something about jackson abby... mmm. this is somehow both fluffy and smutty at the same time, which i didn't fully intend, but i think my adoration for her just slipped in lmao. also the longest and possibly filthiest thing i've written so far, soo do with that what you will. enjoy!!

The world outside was a snow globe, a swath of white blanketing towering pines. Dark had fallen, and the wind had started up again, blowing the thick flakes every which way and making it hard even to see the forest beyond. It looked frigid, and you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, grateful to be back inside. You were still tired from the journey over here, and it felt like the chill had settled deep into your bones, making everything ache dully. You wanted to be back in Seattle, back where it was familiar. Not this cold, lonely-feeling place—but you knew you were here for a reason.

And the sooner it was over and done with, the better.

You turned from the window when you heard the faint creak of the floorboards, and Abby rounded the corner, exhaustion written across her features. She was tense, had been ever since you’d left home; you could see it in the stiff way she moved, in the way she seemed distracted, often lost in thought. Her mind was clearly elsewhere, and you could guess precisely where that was.

“You’re still up,” she said, slightly out of breath from coming in from outside. There was a light dusting of snow on her coat and hat, and her face was flushed from the cold. You thought she looked like an angel.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You watched her pull off her hat and begin shucking off her coat as she moved further into the room, eyes scanning you briefly as if to make sure you were okay. She was always doing that—always looking out for you even when there was nothing to worry about. It made your chest flicker with warmth. “It looks pretty bad out there.”

“Awful,” Abby confirmed. She ambled over to join you at the window. “Scoped out the area, though. The plan is to head down into the valley. I’m hoping it’ll get us somewhere, at least.”

“We’ll find him,” you said firmly, reassuringly, your voice hushed in the quiet of the room. Everyone else had gone to bed, and it was almost like it was just the two of you out here, in this lonely cabin. It felt intimate. You closed the remaining distance between you, resting a hand on her arm and rubbing it lightly. “We’ve come so far already. Try not to worry about it anymore until tomorrow, ‘kay?”

She puffed a small sigh, and after a pause she nodded, looking back at you. “Yeah,” she murmured. A soft look came into her eyes as she stared at your face for a long moment, gaze lingering over your features in a way that made you want to look away, unexpectedly shy. She brought a hand up to tuck a piece of your hair back behind your ear, her fingers brushing lightly against your cheek as she did.

You felt heat bloom across your face under her attention, at the tenderness of the touch. You breathed a quiet laugh. “What?”

“Just… glad you’re here.” Abby’s thumb skated across your cheekbone once more before slowly drawing back. She looked like she wanted to say more, but you felt all the meaning of the words, heart swelling in your chest. Before you could say anything, a shiver rippled through you, and her gaze dipped down to where you were clutching your sweater tightly around you. “Are you cold? I’ll get the fire going.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to—” you started, but she was already halfway across the room, striding to the fireplace. She tossed a few logs in and then crouched down in front of it, using a piece of flint and steel to spark a flame. Truly, what had you done to deserve her?

Slowly, you made your way over to the old mattress you’d stationed before the hearth, where your sleeping bags were spread out. You sat, quietly watching her nurse the flames into a steadily blazing fire that filled the room with warmth. Immediately, you felt a bit better as the chill in your bones dissipated.

Your eyes traced over Abby as she worked, a somewhat faraway expression on her face as she stared into the flames. You made no effort to hide the way your gaze lingered indulgently on the veins in her hand as it gripped the fire poker, the flex of her biceps beneath her shirt. It wasn’t something you could help; your admiration for her never lessened, and you still felt a flush of awe each time you stopped to really look at her—which was, needless to say, often.

Still, though, seeing how high her nerves were sent a stab of worry and protectiveness in your gut. You knew how much this meant to her, avenging her father. It had been the sole thing driving her since his death, and now that she was finally so close, the tension and impatience radiating off of her was palpable. You wished you could take it away, carry the burden of it yourself—or, at the very least, ease it for awhile.

Abby set the poker aside and sat beside you on the mattress, grunting a bit with exhaustion as she lowered herself down beside you. She began unlacing her boots, glancing sidelong at you as she did. “Better now?”

You nodded, a soft smile ghosting across your lips. “Much better. Thank you,” you said quietly. When she had kicked her boots off, you closed the space between you, swinging a leg over her to settle in her lap. Your arms laced around her neck, and her hands came up to rest on your thighs instinctively, squeezing them lightly.

“I should be the one asking you if you need anything. You’ve had a long day.” You gave her a light, chaste kiss, and brushed the pad of your thumb over her soft bottom lip. “Are you hungry? I’ll go heat something up for you.”

“I’m fine. I had something before I left,” she told you, her hands rubbing against your thighs languidly. “Don’t worry about me.” She leaned forward to capture your lips in another kiss; this one was deeper, tinged with yearning. You sighed into it, feeling her tongue run along your lip before dipping into your mouth to brush against yours.

When you pulled away, you looked at her earnestly. She was always downplaying her own needs, always insisted on being the one to cater to you. You loved it, of course, but you felt the need to take care of her, too, especially right now. “Let me make you some tea, then.” You made to get up, but her grip on your thighs tightened a bit, pulling you back down against her lap.

Wordlessly, she drew you into another kiss, tongue stroking into your mouth in a hungry way that made you groan. The pure need in it caught you off-guard, stirring the desire in the pit of your stomach so suddenly it was almost startling. “I don’t want tea,” she murmured against your lips when you broke apart for breath. The implications of the words were clear—it was something else that she wanted.

She kissed along your jaw before moving down to your neck, lightly sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. You sucked in a breath as your head tilted a bit to the side, giving her easier access. It was your favourite spot to be kissed, instantly made you dissolve into putty, and she knew it.

Her hands trailed up your thighs and under your shirt, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they slid over your bare skin. They were calloused and warm, her touch firm as it roamed higher, stopping just under your breasts. Then she tugged lightly at the hem of your shirt. “Take this off,” she ordered, voice firm but still achingly soft, her breath warm against your neck.

You complied almost instantly, the heat pooling south in your abdomen not making you inclined to oppose her. Reaching down, you pulled your sweater up and over your head in one smooth motion, leaving your torso bare but for the lacy lilac bra that Abby loved so much on you. The heat of the crackling fire behind you warmed your exposed skin, keeping the chill from fully getting to you.

Abby pulled back to look at you, her gaze drinking you in as her hands wasted no time moving to undo the clasp of your bra. You could tell she was impatient for this, her eyes dark with lust, her breathing growing heavier as she unhooked your bra and slipped it down your arms a bit clumsily. It sent a sharp stab of desire through you, and suddenly you needed her hands on you, needed to feel them everywhere.

The bra came off, revealing your bare chest, nipples already hard and perky both from the chill and arousal. Abby’s big hands reached to cup them, squeezing them lightly, her thumbs rubbing over your sensitive buds. “So pretty, baby,” she breathed as she scattered kisses along the column of your throat, your shoulders, your collarbone. They trailed down to your chest, and then she took one of your nipples into her mouth, tongue licking and circling over the perky bud. You sucked in a sharp breath, your body arching into her.

“Abby,” you sighed, clutching at her shoulders as she continued nipping and sucking at your chest. The ache of need in your core was growing with every passing second. Even as you glanced nervously toward the dark hallway, your hips shifted against her thighs, seeking stimulation. “We shouldn’t. What if someone…?”

“They’re all asleep by now,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper as she pulled back to look at you. It was only a second before her hands were back on your tits, kneading them—it was safe to say that she couldn’t get enough of them. “But you’re gonna have to keep quiet, yeah? Think you can do that for me?”

You smirked a little at the teasing note in her tone. “I can manage,” you said, a bit shakily. It was clear, from the way you were squirming in her lap and on the verge of panting, that you needed this just as badly as she did. At this point, you were so aroused that you couldn’t even bring yourself to care much about the fact that you weren’t alone here, that your friends were just in the other room. Fuck it—you would just have to hope that nobody walked in.

Abby’s lips quirked up slightly, amused, as she fumbled to undo the button of your pants. She held your gaze as her hand slid past your waistband and between your thighs. You released a shaky breath as she cupped your heat through the soaked-through fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, look at you,” she groaned lowly as she slowly dragged her fingers over you through the thin fabric. “So wet for me already.”

You bit your lip, a soft moan escaping you as your hips rocked into her touch, desperate for more. You were already aching for her, and her voice, silky and breathless in a way that betrayed her own arousal, certainly wasn’t helping.

She began a slow rhythm, stroking you firmly in a way that had the pleasure climbing steadily. Her hand was angled just right, the heel of her palm pressing right into your clit, and you were fighting back whimpers as it sent shocks of heat through you. As she worked you, her lips found your neck once again, biting and sucking soft skin that would surely bruise tomorrow. You always pretended to be exasperated at having to hide the hickeys she gave you, but in truth, it sent a little thrill through you whenever you caught someone eyeing your neck, the proof that she’d been all over you.

Your head was bent against her shoulder, your faltering breaths and tiny sounds of pleasure muffled against her shirt as you angled your hips to grind your clit harder into her palm. It was getting harder to keep control of yourself, and as you felt the wave of heat begin to rise, your grip on Abby’s arm tightened. Her bicep was solid and muscled beneath your grip.

“Mmph—Abby,” you panted, eyes squeezed shut in barely contained pleasure. “M’not gonna last much longer.”

With those words, it was like her last bit of restraint snapped. Suddenly she was hoisting you up by your thighs, shifting you from her lap to the mattress and pushing you down beneath her with more force than you were expecting, a little “oof” puffing from your lips. She leaned over you and began tugging your pants and underwear down your legs eagerly, making quick work of them. You lifted your hips a bit to help her, and watched with hazy, half-lidded eyes as she got them off and tossed them aside before immediately starting on her own, shoving them down her hips.

It was nothing like the way things usually went between you; nothing like the times she would tease you, drawing out your need until you were practically begging her to fuck you, all while murmuring encouraging words in your ear. This was different—this was pure, carnal lust, itching desperation, and your entire body was burning with arousal at the rough way she was handling you.

You were whimpering with anticipation, your thighs almost trembling with it, in the few moments it took for Abby to get her own pants off. You were completely naked as you lay splayed out across the sleeping bags, but no longer felt the least bit cold, not when Abby covered your body with her own, those big arms braced on either side of your head and her weight pressing you into the mattress below.

She grasped one of your legs and hiked it up sharply as she straddled you, slotting your thighs together perfectly. When you came together, her slick heat sliding wetly against your own, you couldn’t hold back the moan that rasped from your throat as the pleasure slammed into you all at once. Abby muttered a curse in your ear, only pausing for a second to breathe heavily before beginning to move. She gave a firm rock of her hips, and then another, grinding her throbbing pussy against yours and wrenching more sweet moans out of you.

“Shhh,” Abby hushed softly after you uttered a particularly dirty sound that bordered on too loud, her breath warm against the side of your face. Her own breaths were faltering as she kept up her rhythm, not stopping for a second. “Gotta be—mph—quiet, baby. Said you would, remember?”

You bit your lip hard, making a controlled effort to reign in the sounds of pleasure that were threatening to escape at the feel of her rubbing up against your aching clit. The slick sounds of your bodies moving together and your combined panting was all that you could hear in the quiet of the room. Every so often, a low, strangled groan would rumble from Abby’s throat when she wasn’t able to stifle it, her jaw clenched, the space between her eyebrows scrunching in pleasure.

Each movement sent a fresh wave of heat pulsing through you, and Abby’s pace was relentless. She let out a growl, her grip on your thigh tightening as she angled her hips to grind into you even harder. Her hips pushed you into the mattress, now thrusting into you with abandon.

“That’s it, fuck—so good for me, baby.” Her breaths were coming hard and fast, her face hovering close to yours as her eyes roved over you, taking in your blissed-out expression. Your eyes were dropped shut, your fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt so tightly your knuckles were white. You were rocking up into her weakly, but you could hardly do much with all of Abby’s strength on top of you, controlling the movement.

“So pretty when I fuck you like this,” she huffed. “You like it, yeah? Like it when I fuck this pretty pussy? Fuck.”

You just managed a weak nod in response, unable to even grasp the thoughts to form words in the midst of what you were feeling. The tug of heat in your abdomen was pulsing stronger and stronger; you could feel yourself unraveling. Whimpers had started to spill out of you, your body tensing as you neared release.

“Gonna come? Gonna show me how fuckin’ good it feels, huh?” she panted roughly, moving faster as she saw that you were right on the precipice, mouth hung agape, eyes clenched shut, head thrown back. “C’mon, give it to me.”

When you came, your orgasm crashed into you so hard that Abby had to quickly cover your mouth with a hand to muffle the cry you let out as your body jerked underneath her. She moaned, seeing the intensity of your pleasure clearly driving her closer to the edge as well. “That’s my—haah—s’my good girl.” She uncovered your mouth again and watched it wash over you, the aftershocks rolling through you at Abby’s continued thrusts. A few moments later she grunted, and you felt her reach her own peak, her pussy clenching against you, her hips stuttering as she came.

Together, you came down from your high. Abby dropped your leg as she slowed to a stop, her body slumping forward slightly into you for a few moments as she panted into the crook of your neck. You tilted your head to rest your cheek against the side of her face, the sound of your heavy breaths mingling with hers. A small grin tugged at your lips as a wonderfully light and floaty feeling washed over you, and you ran your hands languidly over her muscled back, the slope of her shoulders.

Abby pressed a soft kiss to your skin before rolling off you and onto the mattress beside you, relaxing into it with a sigh. She was still catching her breath, her eyes closed, and you just stared at her for a few beats, glad to see the serene expression on her pretty face. You wished it could stay that way.

After getting up and slowly pulling your clothes back on, you settled beside her again. She looked at you, raising her arm up expectantly in a gesture that invited you to come closer.

“C’mere,” she murmured, and you did, nestling against her and resting your head on her chest. You breathed in the familiar scent of the pine soap she used, listened to the beating of her heart next to your ear. It was utterly quiet now, peaceful, and you began to give in to the call of sleep. You felt Abby’s light touch rubbing soothing circles against your torso, lulling your eyes closed.

“Love you." Her voice was a hushed whisper in the dark.

“Love you, Abs.”

[bunnys-kisses]

lust is a loaded hand gun

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, ferrari!reader, baby fever, seduction, cowgirl position, alcohol/drinking, breeding, the reader wants to have a baby and chooses to have it with max, max is not aware

this bunny runs on comments & reblogs! feed the rabbit!

part 2: love is a kick to the stomach

this sounded stupid. but you wanted a baby. and while that was an easy task for most women, you knew that there was something impersonal about picking from a catalogue. reading profiles felt weird, like you were looking for a used car rather than the biological other half of your child. even if you'd raise them without a father, you'd rather have a night of passion than an awkward doctor's visit.

charles leaned back in his seat and asked, "why don't you and i just make one." he shrugged his shoulders. he considered himself close to you. you had been teammates for a little over two seasons and prior to that you knew each other. he didn't mind being the one to help you bring a child into the world, "i can be his uncle and he'd never know."

but, as close as you were to your teammate. you had other drivers in mind.

you made a face, "no offense, charles. but it would feel like doing it with my brother." being teammates meant you two knew too much about one another. you worked well as teammates and rivals because you were more like siblings. while you appreciated the offer, you felt it was weird.

charles asked, relaxed in his seat, "why are you doing this anyway? isn't there a million ways for you to have a child."

you shrugged, "i want to be a mom, i don't know. leave my seat behind to another woman and let her make all the history. i'm honestly tired. i've reached the peak and now." you sighed, "i want something else. i've got enough money to retire and let my future child retire before they're born." you crossed your arms, "i don't want to be doing this shit until i'm forty and just degrade in the skills department. end on a high note." while it was not an insult to other driver's on the grid. you felt bad that they never got to really be parents due to the schedules.

"so you need to seduce a driver to make that happen."

you nodded, out of the corner of your eye you spotted the driver you had your eye on. while you eyed the man crossing your path, your voice got softer, "and i think i know just the driver."

charles looked over to the direction you were looking at. he noticed who was walking by and he looked back to you, shoulders dropped, "max. you're going to seduce and have a child with max?"

you looked back to charles and shrugged, "why not? what's not to like?" max wasn't a perfect man, sometimes you wondered about the mechanics of his brain. but, you knew your child with him would lay waste to the track in the future.

"i can name a few. do you want them alphabetically or severity of it?" charles asked.

you gave him a look, "it wouldn't be hard to get him to sleep with me. you, me and the rest of the garage has seen how he looks at me. i mean who else do i have to choose from? either they're too old, they're rookies, or they have girlfriends. and i'm not getting a heel in the eye because i'm trying to have a baby."

charles rubbed the bridge of his nose, "i think you just like him."

you tensed up for a moment, "no. this is all just simple. scheming... nothing more. i don't expect to trap him with a child. he is free to live his life after i'm done with him."

charles found it hard to believe. not on your end, but max's. he had heard at sickeningly lengths about how max felt for you. it was probably the most eloquent the driver had ever been. if you got pregnant by him, he'd be getting a ring the next day. he sighed once more, "then have fun with the wold champion. i'd say to be safe, but i think being unsafe is the whole point of this."

you gave the once over of max in the near distance and smiled, "don't worry charles, you'll get all the details in the morning." which earned a groan from your teammate.

-

it started over a bottle of wine and ended in the motor home of red bull. you and max had gotten frisky over the evening. you wondered if anyone was selling the photos of you two in the back of the restaurant to tmz or some other trashy outlet. you had shared two bottles of wine over dinner. the benefit of being as wealthy as you were, you could throw the cash onto the table and giggle as you stumble out of your place.

you knew someone had a photo of max kissing you at the table to 'taste' the sauce that came with your meal. as if he couldn't take some from the plate.

but back in the motor home, you had dropped your purse by the door. in the dark of the place, you two were starting to get undressed. heels kicked to the wall, your bracelets set on the coffee table. your dress was on the floor by the bed, your bra over the lamp by the bed and your panties on the bed.

"i'm on top." you said as you kissed max's lips. he tasted like wine and fine dining. he tasted and smelled expensive. in all fairness he could be worth more than a micro nation. he was not an easy man to buy, but the currency of sex was in high demand. max wanted you, and you knew that because he got on his back without much argument.

you were both naked on the bed. the faint lights gleamed through the large windows as you rubbed up against max with no other lighting. you could see his face against the shadows of the night. his blue eyes were like gems and they pulled you in. whoever he ended up with would be very lucky.

but tonight you needed him. he was an important piece in your plan. you rubbed against him and with a little help, you sank down onto his cock. while cowgirl wasn't the best position to try and get pregnant, but it ensured that your plan would work. any position is a working one.

"you're beautiful."

"i know." you said as you rubbed yourself against him. you braced your hands on his strong chest. he was a handsome man, he was good at what he did and he was a winner. you knew anyone would be lucky to have him, but tonight was the perfect partner. you knew a child with him would be perfect.

you continued to rub up against him. the roll of your hips were methodical. this wasn't the first time you slept with a man. you moaned when max groped your breasts, massaged the flesh between those bear paws he called hands. soon you sank on his cock and shuddered, feeling the heat raise in your belly.

this was a mission, no time to get attached. you were both tipsy from the alcohol and the driver under you were more handsy than ever. you try not to feel the emotions that came with it. the feeling of being attached to someone you were having sex with. you batted charles' assumptions about your feelings for max out of your mind as you rode the dutch driver.

you were determined to get pregnant tonight. you measured it all down to a t, all you needed was for max not to get whiskey dick. you curved your back to get closer to him, your lips met his as you moved up and down. his cock was snug in your, but it went in almost perfect. the blunt head hit against the furthest parts of you. your heart hammered in your chest as you moved your hips.

you pushed hair out of your face before your braced your hands on his chest once more. he was very toned, you almost wanted to joke about what happened to his slightly kinder chocolate addiction. but that was neither here nor there.

"you feel so good." he grunted, "why haven't we done this before? fuck." he panted, he could feel the heat in his cheeks as you rode him. he had been with others before but being under you was a pleasure no money could buy. you were really good at it, knowing exactly how to make him feel good.

"good things take time." you panted, part of you wondered what would happen if you covered his mouth. you didn't need the dirty talk, this was a mission. if you wanted a casual friends with benefits, you'd try something online or another in the paddock. fucking max was a certainly that you'd get pregnant. it didn't have to be intimate or soft. it was a means to an end, and you'd get there no matter what.

the sounds of your fucking filled the room as you continued to move against him. you raked your nails down his chest, catching his nipples which made him moan. he was cute on his back, letting you take over. you wondered how deep his affection for you went.

you didn't want the emotional baggage of it all. tonight you were both drunk and having sex in the motor homes. it would be a one night stand before you two finished out the season. you could feel the heat across your back as you stared at him.

his eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open as he panted heavily. there was heat in his face and you felt something tug in your chest. he was beautiful, you hated to admit it. but max verstappen was a pretty boy.

he was already blissed out, his noises forced you by the movement of your hips. you licked your lips and without thinking, you left a mark on his collarbone. it was stupid, but it excited your further.

you continued to move against him. your breasts bounced with each move of your hips. you felt moans in the back of your throat and a hum in your soul. pleasure was close and it wasn't long before you really worked yourself onto his cock and finished.

the tightness around his cock made max's back arch a little bit. he could feel the heat in the back of his head. his heart pounded as he watched you continue to ride his cock. he panted heavily and soon climaxed as well. you made sure to get everything you could out. you kissed him once more before you stopped. when you pulled away you got off of his waist and laid down on the bed.

"wow." he said out of breath.

you didn't want to talk. instead you turned your head to kiss him on the lips to keep him quiet. there was no time for mushy romantic bedroom talk. you needed him to fall asleep before you could leave.

you tried to count down the seconds, placing kisses across his heated face. you reminded yourself that there would be some lucky enough to keep him for life.

when you pulled away from his lips after one last kiss, he curled up beside you and right then fell asleep. you stayed awake, when the heat cooled in your body. you hoped your mission was a success. the lust and the alcohol still made its rounds in your body. but you were lucid enough to find your clothes in the dark and slip out of the motor home before morning.

you'd never bring up the event to max, only briefly mentioning it to charles. you'd drive harder after that, in the end you'd secure a world championship. as you kissed the trophy and your country's national anthem played, you were already pregnant with your child.

-

your retirement was a shock to max. you could've easily decorated your home with many trophies over the next few years. but at the end of the 2024 season, you bowed out. you thanked fans and told them that it was a new chapter in your life. and then like that you fell off the face of the earth over the off-season.

max tried to find ways to contact you. where did you go? what happened? why leave at the height of it all? the more he thought about it, the more questions were raised in his head. he asked around the paddock, even going as far as to ask charles where you went. the other drive shrugged and told him that you moved back to your home country with a "little extra luggage". there were no social media posts. nothing. it nagged in the back of his brain for what felt like a lifetime. what happened to ferrari's princess?

it wasn't until almost three years later, max had claimed another world championship. it felt like these days he was riding high. he was still the best. but as he walked into the paddock to train for the upcoming season, he stopped in his tracks. he felt like he was splashed with cold water.

there you were, three years older with a glow to you. you were laughing with charles and lewis, you looked different but in a good way. you were in overalls and a ferrari shirt underneath. you were more curvy than you were when you were driving. and while you were still beautiful like the sun, pulling max in. what made his stomach drop was who was in your arms.

a young boy, with big curious eyes and round cheeks. he held onto you tightly, his small fists in the fabric of your shirt. he seemed curious about the track, but not scared of how big it all felt. while max would've assumed that you got married and had a child as a lot of people did. but that's not what had happened.

max knew right away at the first glance of your son. looking at him was like looking at max's childhood photos. even in features that matched your own, your son carried a lot of max in him. the itch in his brain after you fell off the earth all those years ago came back, this was where you went. the boy looked like him and if he was right about the boy's age then dates lined up. there was no question. max verstappen was your son's father. and when you noticed him staring. you simply smiled and gave him a wink, shifting the boy in your arms and pointing at the me. when your son smiled, max felt something in his gut. looking at you, holding your (his) son, made max feel like he was home. and all those feelings he had been carrying poured back into his head and heart. the same emotions that allowed you to bed him. <3

sequel: love is a kick to the stomach

[heavyhitterheaux]

Black, Purple, and Blue

AN: fluffy goodness 😘💕

Synopsis: The amount of times your husband gets hit during the Ravens game quickly has you concerned, but he tries to reassure you that there is nothing to worry about

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a beautiful anon 😍

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Hit after hit after hit

You watched your husband get pummeled to the ground multiple times against the Ravens from the comfort of your bed at your home in Cincinnati and it seemed as if there was no end in sight. Multiple people had asked if you wanted to watch the game with them, but you quickly decided against it. You would rather be at home by yourself and not be at some random bar hearing people drunk off their asses talking about your husband if he were to lose.

A fight almost ensued between you and another fan during Joe’s second season with the Bengals and from that point on, you knew it wasn’t even worth your time. You knew Joe was an amazing quarterback and his stats proved it despite what people may say about him.

The game was not moving in the direction that you originally thought, but despite this you still held onto hope since the score was so close.

Joe had confessed to you earlier in the week how anxious and nervous he was for this game and it was to be expected. They were playing in Baltimore on their turf, but seeing how the Ravens caused them an upset at home, it would only be right if the Bengals did the same thing.

Joe was always focused during the season, but it went to a different level when he was playing any team within the same division as the Bengals were.

When the Ravens had gotten the ball back, the camera suddenly cut to the Bengals sideline and you could see Joe wincing in pain as he was holding the left side of his body, Silently cursing to yourself before letting out a sigh, the wheels in your head began to turn and immediately thought the worst.

This time last year as he was playing the Ravens, he sustained his wrist injury that put him out for the rest of the season and the last thing you wanted was for him to go through that all over again. You saw the way it bothered him deep down, even though he thought he was being good at putting up a front for you.

Being married for a total of four years, you could see right through his bullshit and could immediately tell when something was off with him.

You took a sip of your strawberry flavored Truly as you saw Joe throw to Ja’Marr and end up with a touchdown and quickly placed it back down on the table in order to celebrate.

But now, it was time for your nerves to be turned up to another level because you saw them wanting to go for a two point conversion.

“You cannot be fucking serious right now.” You quietly said out loud, even though there was no one in the room but you.

During the play, someone on the Ravens defense had pulled Joe’s face mask and you were yelling at the television seeing as how they never even called it.

Suddenly, your phone rang next to you and you debated on whether you should answer it until you saw that it was your cousin Yalisa. Clicking accept, the first thing you heard was her yelling.

“Y/N! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS GOING ON IN THIS GAME?! DO YOU SEE HOW MANY CALLS THEY MISSED?! And not them beating your husband like he stole something.”

“I’m so over this, I don’t even know anymore. It seems like they are personally working against them. Did you see him grab Joe’s face mask?”

“Yes! And that’s why I called you! Are the refs blind?!”

“Um, the only names I’ve heard all night are Joe and Ja’marr. It doesn’t seem like anyone else showed up to play today.”

“See? That’s why Joe is as ripped as he is now because he’s carrying this team on his fucking back!”

“And he keeps wincing, so I’m concerned because he has yet to seek medical attention. He just keeps going back in and I can tell that something is wrong with him.” You quietly said and tried to take a deep breath to help ground you from the uneasy feeling that was creeping in.

“I guess he sees it as he has to go back in because who the fuck else is going to? They are seriously pissing me off. Is this the week that Zac gets fired?” She asked and you immediately stifled a laugh.

“As much as I would like that to become a reality, a lot more things need to change beside that one.”

It was one in the morning when your phone rang alerting you that you had a facetime call from your husband and you immediately answered.

The two of you stared at each other as you noticed Joe was laying down. In order to get more comfortable, he adjusted himself and you once again saw him wince. But before you could say anything about it, you heard his voice.

“I didn’t wake you up did I?” He asked and you simply shook your head no.

“No, and you know I always wait for you to call me before I go to sleep. I have to hear your voice one way or another.”

“And hearing your voice has to be my favorite thing in the world. I just can’t wait until tomorrow when I actually get to hold you.”

“I can’t wait for that either and I am going to fix all your favorite comfort foods and we’ll eat ourselves into a food coma to get through this.” You replied as you brought the comforter higher up your body since you were getting cold.

“While watching rom coms of course.”

“A man that knows a way to my heart.” You told him and he gave you a small smile.

It was quiet for a few seconds and then you spoke up again.

“Baby?”

“Yes?”

“I saw you wincing during the game. I don’t like when you wince.”

“I’m okay, really. It’s not a big deal.”

“Joey, don’t give me that. You got hit multiple times. If something happened then…”

“I promise that I’m okay, just a little sore. I already took the motrin that you slipped in my bag for me earlier.”

“Well someone has to do it seeing as you always forget.”

“True, and I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Stop! Stop being so cute when you’re so far away and I can’t kiss you until you get back, it’s not fair.” You whined and Joe let out a small laugh.

“You can have all the kisses you want once you see me. Promise.”

“Joey? How are you and do not under any circumstances bullshit me right now because I will be on the first flight to Baltimore if you do.”

The deep sigh he let out before giving you a verbal answer was telling.

“Frustrated.”

“Go on.”

“It seems like there is a disconnect somewhere and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Cough your coach Zac Taylor cough.”

“Well, that and there is something else. Just haven’t quite figured it out yet.”

“Can I be honest? You are amazing in your own right and even though I know that you already know this, Joey the last thing I ever want to happen is for you to in lack of better words waste your career for an organization that doesn’t quite seem like they value or care about you. Like, my husband is the shit and I’m not being biased. You are one of the best, if not the best, okay now I’m being biased. But, you’re amazing and I just want so much better for you. Do you know how much it hurts to see you so upset every week that you lose knowing that you show up every time for your team and give 100% while others don’t?”

—

Hearing the front door open from you and Joe’s shared office as you were working on your laptop, you immediately hopped up and ran to the foyer to greet him.

As soon as he spotted you, his bag was thrown to the side as he opened up his arms to embrace you as he placed several kisses on your lips.

When you did bring him in for a hug, once again you saw him wince.

“Joseph….”

“No, stop. I’m fine.”

“Hmm, pull up your shirt.”

“Damn, you want me to fuck you already? I was thinking…” Joe started to say, but you cut him off.

“No! Well yes, but not yet! Lift it.”

“But…”

“NOW.”

Once he did, you saw a black, purple, and blue bruise in the area where his ribs were on the left side and immediately gasped.

“BABY!”

“I’m fine, just a little bruised. I don’t want you to worry yourself.” He told you as he put his shirt back down and grabbed your hand as he kissed the back of it.

“A LITTLE bruise? It literally takes up a very good portion of your torso. And how can I not worry? My husband is a professional football player. Worrying is ingrained in my brain now. It got ingrained when I met you at LSU so stop.”

“Would it make you feel better that I got checked out before we got on our flight to come back home because it was bothering me when I woke up?”

“Yes. Kind of. But still!"

“And I’m fine. I promise like I said, and you're so cute when you worry about me."

"Not cute, I get flustered and pray nothing bad happens to you."

Crossing your arms, you nodded your head as Joe uncrossed them and leaned down to kiss you.

"Nothing is going to happen, and I'm going to need you to relax for me. Now that we got that out of the way, I’m also going to need my wife to lose her clothes.”

[nightingale-prompts]

Lay Me to Rest- DCxDP Prompt

Warning: Blood and gore

There has been a series of murders across the country. Each death was varied and self-inflicted. At first, they all seemed like suicide but each had a strange range of symptoms before death.

Sudden paranoia, incoherent mumbling, screaming or yelling, going in and out of their homes sporadically, random fixations, and finally self-harm.

The victims were teachers, parents, businessmen, truckers, and even a crime novelist. All unrelated and in different states.

Each victim didn't seem to have a connection until an investigation discovered that each one had been an active serial killer. The body counts ranged from as little as 5 to as much as 23. The killer was named the Serial Serial Killer which wasn't creative but it was catchy. Some called them the Angel of Vengeance but most thought it was cringy and overdramatic. Many people didn't want them to be caught but others hotly debated letting a killer dispense justice when their crusade could easily turn into them killing people for innocuous things.

The police were still questioning whether this killer even existed. One thing was clear, there was a trail and it led straight to Gotham. A goldmine for them. Naturally, Batman had gotten a hold on the case and began an investigation.

The biggest question was how the killer found their victims and how they knew that they were killers.

The answer was obvious. They didn't need to figure it out. They just needed to wait. Why just in the effort to investigate when a serial killer tries to convince you to leave with them? So bars are the obvious place. But that's shaky at best since there is a period of torment that takes place that allows the victims to return home. The killer doesn't care if the victims could call the police, perhaps because they know their victim won't.

Bruce started to build a profile. He saw a pattern here. Each of the victims had a preference for their victims as well. They targeted young people, mainly boys. Odds are the Serial Serial Killer matched that description or age range. So bars weren't the hunting ground. So parks were more likely to go unnoticed and boys tended to hang out there longer after dark.

The killer was more than likely a victim himself so he may have a few scars but probably not noticeable enough that his would-be assailants would be turned off. There is no ignoring the predatory nature of the victims. Each killed children for gratification in some form. It's not that the boy is attractive but he probably has traits that the victims found attractive in children. So babyfaced, short, native, and polite.

There was much else Bruce could get. There was nothing concrete and he still didn't understand the method that was used. So far this was guesswork.

It wasn't until a few weeks later while he tracking another killer that he found his answer.

Dr.Kinder a Biologist by day and a killer who experiments on his victims at night had picked up a promising new lab rat a week ago. He had intended to slowly dissect the boy. He had gotten so used to the screams he stopped using anesthetics besides he wanted to see how the fear response caused the organs to shift.

To his surprise the boy didn't fight, in fact he seemed to jump to the table and say he didn't need restraints. Disturbing. But he was restrained anyways.

As the doctor cut him open the boy didn't react, only humming to himself as he watched the doctor.

"What are you hoping to find?" He asked. "I'm getting bored and this bearly hurts."

The boy annoyingly never stopped talking and never missed a chance to ruin the moment. There were never any screams or cries but incessant talking.

Dr.Kinder found the boy disturbing so he simply took an axe and chopped the boy into pieces. Not once did he make a sound. The doctor thought it was over but the next day the boy was back. He sat on the autopsy table kicking his feet in nothing but his bare skin.

"What the hell are you?" The doctor gasped in horror.

"I'm bored. Play with me again." The boy purred.

Bile crawled up his throat as the doctor restained this...thing again.

This time the boy spoke differently.

"You cut me up last time. Did you do that to the last boy. After you...you know." A sick grin spread across his cheeks.

The doctor cut open his neck this time and let him bleed out.

Everyday he came back and every day the doctor killed him until the time between his death got shorter and shorter. The days began to blur and he had no idea how long he had been doing this. But that thing kept talkimg to him.

Dr.Kinder stared down at his desk at the papers trying to think of anything but-

"I wonder what people would think about what you've done. You're a disgusting and depraved man doctor. Look at what you've done to me." The sing-song voice of that demon called out.

He could feel those blood-soaked arms wrapped around his neck.

He flinch as he pushed the thing away.

"Oh, are you going to beat me or stab me this time? Ooo, or are you going to put me through the woodchipper again?" The demon asked as the doctor wrapped his hands around his throat.

He just kept squeezing until the boy went limp. It never ends. The blood never goes away. It covered every surface of the room. Dripping, conjugating, and spreading into every corner. Whenever he turned his head he could see body parts spread across the room in the pools of blood he could they the faces of the others that he had killed. Each face wretched in agony.

"You hold on better than the others. I've been eaten, torched, and disemboweled before but after coming back a few times they usually end it after a few words. But every time they don't feel guilt. They just don't want to face consequences." The boy said. "Do you even remember my name? The one I told you when you picked me up on the side of the road or was I just another body to use and discard? I used the name of your first victim. I hoped you'd notice."

The doctor knew he couldn't kill the boy but he could end himself. He had tried it once but just like the kid he came back without a scratch.

"Not yet. This is your life now. Come on, let's taste death together. Again and again and again and again and-" he repeated over and over.

This was hell. This was his hell.

But it came to an end eventually. Dr.Kinder put an end to himself in a gruesome display.

Batman had only caught the tail end as he faced a young boy standing an a pool of blood.

****

"Yeah, that thing is like a worse version of a revenant. Doesn't really have a name yet to describe it. It's undead for sure. You kill it and it just comes back." Constantine said "Why did you bring it here?"

After a long bath and some new clothes, the kid looked normal as played on a phone given to him.

"Look, I didn't know what else to do." Bruce explained.

"You leave it alone!" Constantine said exasperated "Look they are harmless to anything they don't bear a grudge towards. Think of it as a force of nature." Constantine said.

"I just want to know how to stop him." Bruce said.

"Well you can't kill it but you can't bring him back entirely. You can just soothe it 'till it stops targeting its victims. It must have died pretty gruesomely to go to these lengths. You need to find where it died and lay it to rest. Properly." Constantine sighed knowing that appeasing this soul would be more than just difficult.

"Danny, come on. Let's go." Bruced said putting a hand on the boy's head as Danny stood up to leave.

"Okay. Bye!" Danny waved to Constantine.

[jenoslutie]

is it casual? l l.dh (m)

❥ Synopsis: Nothing about what you and Donghyuck had was casual. Nothing in the way he held you close at night, or the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear when your sweaty bodies are connected and your breaths are laboured, or even the way sex with him felt... too intimate. Nothing about it was casual. But Donghyuck always told you what you had was only casual.

❥ Genre: Toxic FWB!Donghyuck, smut, friends with benefits au, he is toxic.

❥ Warnings: toxicity, reader is a little dumb, explicit smut scenes, recording during sex (consensually), reader x chenle for a second, reader flirts with hyuck's cousin for a second, fucking while family is in the other room, car sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, i cant think of anything else tbh!!

❥ Word count: 3.3K

❥ a/n: hi guys :D i apologize if this is some hot garbage LMAO not my proudest fic (especially the rushed ass ending) BUT! i did want to get it done and over with soooo here you go. Hope you enjoy it!! :D

Nothing about what you and Donghyuck had was casual. 

Nothing in the way he held you close at night, or the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear when your sweaty bodies are connected and your breaths are labored, or the way sex with him felt too intimate. Nothing about it was casual. 

But Donghyuck always told you what you had was only casual. 

“Oh Y/N? We just fuck sometimes” A lie. The same lie he says every time his friends ask about the two of you. Not a single one of them believes him. Not Renjun, not Jaemin, not Jeno. Hell, not even Mark, his best friend, believed him. 

“You don’t just bring anyone around to meet your mother, Haechan” Mark stated, the rest of the group agreeing with him. 

Haechan groans in protest, rolling his eyes, leaving the rest of his roommates on the couch and heading over to his room. 

hyuck: hey  hyuck: come see me. i miss ur pussy. 

you: wtf?? you: where's the decorum?? what happened to hi?? hello?? how was your day?? 

hyuck: you can tell me all about that after i finally get my mouth on your pretty pussy hyuck: come over

And who were you to deny anything Donghyuck asked you? Because within 30 minutes you were outside his apartment, ringing his doorbell and waiting for him to let you in. The door opens and there stands Donghyuck in all his glory. Donghyuck is no doubt an attractive man. Well, he wasn’t just attractive. He was ethereal. You could tell he was carefully sculpted by God himself. 

Upon walking in, you were met by the disappointed faces of his four roommates. You gave them a small smile in greeting, your smile was not a genuine one, anyone could tell it was forced, as was their smile in return. The boys loved having you around but they knew the intentions of their friend. They knew he treated you like way more than a fuckbuddy but wanted less than even fuckbuddies. You were left with no option but to shift your eyes down in shame, you followed him to his all too familiar room. One that you’d been in more than you’d ever like to admit. 

And just like that, before you knew it, you were in Lee Donghyuck’s bed once again. 

“You know Donghyuck is just keeping you around to fuck right?” Chenle suddenly blurted out. You had to cancel on Donghyuck to meet up with Chenle for your little brunch date and to say the least, Donghyuck was not that happy about it. You’re ditching him? For another man? Though the other man was your best friend who had absolutely no feelings whatsoever for you (and vice versa), it was enough for you to have an almost hour long call with Donghyuck prior to meeting up with Chenle that was full of arguing and Donghyuck claiming you cannot ditch him for Chenle.

Which you did. 

Though it didn’t last long because right after you left the brunch spot, you found yourself driving over to none other than Donghyuck’s house.  

“I missed you you know” He all but cooed, letting yet another lie slip from his lips. He was always the one who went M.I.A  after everytime you hooked up until he wanted to hook up again. 

No response. 

“Baby?”

No response. 

“Cmon, Why do you avoid me so much hmm?” You? Avoid Him? 

“I don’t” you huffed, sitting up to pull your shirt over your head. “You’re the one who doesn’t give a fuck about me unless it involves my pussy” 

“That’s not true..” He countered, “I also give a fuck if it involves your tits, and that pretty mouth of yours” You rolled your eyes at him, choosing to ignore his comment. He didn’t urge you either, only pushing you onto your back and climbing on top of you. 

“You know you missed me, didn’t you?” As embarrassing as it was to admit, you did miss him. In the few days you tried to go no contact with him. It was near impossible to get him out of your thoughts. 

And here you were, giving yourself to him once again.

So much for ‘I only want you’ 

Your jaw dropped in shock watching Donghyuck sitting on the couch at a party with some random girl straddling him while the two of them made out like they practically needed each other to breathe. Which if it was the case, you wouldn't be surprised. 

“Didn’t he literally just tell me he only wants me when he was cumming inside of me yesterday?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t know that,” Chenle grimaced. 

“Well! That’s besides the point. The point is, he told me he only wants me now his tongue is down another girl’s throat!” You groaned in frustration. You don't think you’d ever understand his intentions. Sure the sex was good, you enjoyed Haechan’s company more than most people you know but still. You were sick of the mixed signals, did he want you or did he just want you naked and in his bed? Most likely the latter.  

Watching him make out with the girl with no care in the world for you, made a lightbulb spark inside your head. “Why don’t we kiss?” you suggest hopefully. 

And you dont think you’ve ever heard a more vile sound leave Chenle’s mouth before. 

“My lips are not touching yours. Who knows where they’ve been” You rolled your eyes at him, pursing your lips playfully. “You know my lips are clean, Chenle.” 

“I don’t know about that. But…okay, let’s do it” His tone was incredulous, like he didn’t believe your lips were clean? Where the fuck else would they be? Ignoring his backhanded comment., you dragged him closer to where Hyuck was, with the girl still on his lap. It’s almost like he had completely forgotten about you. You’ve been watching him kiss the girl like he kisses you, touch her like he touches you, whisper in her ear like he does to you when he’s telling you all the nasty things he wants to do to you and it makes you sick. 

Without thinking any further, you pull Chenle in by the collar of his dress shirt and he clutches your chin, pulling you closer to him, warm tongue slipping between your lips and exploring the warmth of your mouth. Fighting the urge to moan into Chenle’s mouth, you decided to run your fingers through his hair, tugging a little every so often. Chenle however wasn’t trying to hide anything, he was groaning into your mouth everytime you tugged on his hair. It was a kiss so intense, anyone would look at you and think you two are either hooking up or lovers. The two of you get too caught up in your kiss to notice Hyuck had stopped kissing the new girl and was now boring holes into both of your skulls.

If there's one person that got on his nerves it was Chenle, he hated the way the two of you were so close but told everyone you’re ‘only friends’. So much for ‘only friends’ when the two of you were basically down each other's throats now. The intensity of the kiss fogged both of your brains to the point you forgot the real reason you were kissing him in the first place. Too distracted to even notice Hyuck approach the two of you in the corner you were in, forcing Chenle off you. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Hyuck’s eyes were wide and full of rage, your jaw dropped, what the fuck did he mean? 

“Why are you kissing him?” His words came out bitter, venom laced in his tone. He was pissed at the sight of you with another man. As if he wasn’t under another woman less than a minute ago. You gave him nothing but silence. Not a smart option, you decide. You catch Chenle snickering out the corner of your eye, distancing himself from the scene. 

And that's how you found yourself in Hyuck’s car, your dress lost somewhere in the backseat minutes before Hyuck’s seat tipped back, and you climbed over the center console to sit on his face. Sure the position wasn’t the most comfortable but the way he was eating you out, like he’d lose his breath if he stopped, you were far from complaining. His tongue on you makes you see stars to the point you’d almost forget that the same tongue was down a different girl’s throat less than 30 minutes ago. 

“God, Hyuck you’re so good,” You cried, leaning all the way over to stabilize yourself by grabbing onto the headrest of the backseat. The man under you only hummed in response, sucking your clit harder, forcing another loud moan out from you. Before long, you feel your stomach tightening as your climax approaches, and you whimper in warning, Haechan, knowing your body too well, picking up on your cue immediately and diving into your core with an eagerness that has you seeing stars. With no more than a sharp suck at your clit, you’re climaxing with a loud cry, your body jerking before you attempt to curl in on yourself. 

“Fuck, can you ride me baby?” His voice came out strained, you obediently shimmied into Hyuck’s lap, and without thinking twice, you lined yourself up with his cock. He was clearly tired of the lack of attention on him that the second his tip had slid into your pussy he had pushed you all the way down onto him, forcing himself to fill you to the brink.

You cried out in surprise, a small stretch coursing through your body that Hyuck did not give you much time to adjust to. Immediately, he grabbed your hips and began to forcefully raise you up and down the length of his cock. You whined, your body writhing in pleasure and all you could do was keep your face buried in his neck as he forced you up and down on his cock. As much as you hated this situation you had going on with him, moments like this made you realize how hard it would be to let it go. 

Moments where he made you feel wanted. 

Moments where he made you feel desired. 

Those are what always got you coming back into his trap. 

You don’t know why the hell you agreed to it, but here you were, in Donghyuck’s parent’s house for Christmas. As much as you tried to not be in the spotlight, since you were a new face, you happened to be the center of attention tonight and it was overwhelming. And you realize you’re not even sure why he invited you to his family’s Christmas celebration. 

Watching his younger siblings run around you and ask all sorts of questions like “Why are you friends with my brother? You are too pretty for him!” The two gremlins, both resembling Donghyuck to the T, had been jumping all over you the whole night. You could see where Donghyuck got his personality from. His outgoing nature rooted from his father who might have been the life of the party, his everlasting need to argue about little things rooting from his mother, you could tell by the way you watched the two of them squabble all throughout the night. And obviously, all that chaos combined together and graced Donghyuck and his parents with who they call the two gremlins. 

Deciding to go on this trip back to his hometown was not an easy decision, him spending numerous nights convincing you that you’ll love it there. You remember one specific night where he whined and groaned over the phone about you declining the offer, “You’ll love them!” He offered. “Plus, It's not like you’re doing anything else on christmas! You just told me” It was pretty clear he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. And there was no way you could deny his offer at that point so you just sighed and agreed to go along. 

“You know, they like you alot more than I thought they would,” He mused. He’d been quietly observing his family’s every interaction with you and to say he was impressed was an understatement. His family was normally really inviting for all his friends, but this time, it was different?

 What he didn’t expect was his cousin, Beomgyu, to show up. He would be the first to admit that Beomgyu was attractive, there was no denying that. Growing up, Beomgyu would get all the girls and would outshine Donghyuck in all aspects. Which was one of the reasons why Donghyuck loathed him.  

Donghyuck gritted his teeth as he opened the door, “Beomgyu.” 

“Donghyuck.” His cousin smirked, stepping aside to greet the rest of the family. Donghyuck’s entire family was very fond of Beomgyu, they treated him as one of their own though they knew the hatred their actual son had towards him. What he did not expect more than the sudden appearance of his worst enemy was, the worst enemy in question to be flirting with you not even ten minutes into his arrival. But what pissed him off the most was the fact you were flirting back. 

Stupid fucking Beomgyu, always taking what he wants. 

Stupid fucking Beomgyu, always taking what’s his. 

He watched. Watched for so long while you sat at the dinner table and chatted it up with Beomgyu who was spilling compliment after compliment to you. 

hyuck: meet me in the bathroom. 

hyuck: now. 

In an instant, you were dismissing Beomgyu and following Donghyuck down the hall and into the nearest bathroom. 

“What the fuck was that?” He spat, pushing you up against the door. “You think you can just flirt with my fucking cousin?” He took a fistful of your hair, using it to tilt your head up, your lust filled eyes peering up at him innocently. “You don’t get to choose who I flirt with, Donghyuck.” he hated that stupid smirk on your lips, an hour with Beomgyu made you what? A brat? His eyebrows raised, sporting a smirk of his own at your bratty tone. 

“Okay. If you want to be a brat, I have a great way to put them in their place.” His grin was evil. Your own face dropping when he tugs on your hair again. “Tell me huh? You want to be put in your place while my fucking family is right there? Hearing every little noise of yours while I slut you out in this bathroom?” You shook your head no, “No! I swear, I’ll be good. Don’t want your parents to hear us!” You were given nothing but silence, followed by a dark chuckle from Donghyuck himself. 

“Yes, you do,” he teases. You only whined in response. “Like I give a fuck when you were out there moments away from slutting yourself out to that fucker.” He laughed sadistically when your only response was a whimper. 

‘You’re too easy’ He thought. 

“You know that you’re mine, right?” His tone was harsh. You quickly nodded your head ‘yes’, knowing that even a second’s delay would piss him off now. Instead of a direct response, like you wished, all you got was a chuckle and a little “Sure you are,” 

Donghyuck freed his cock from the confines of his pants and you bent forward, resting on your elbows, presenting your ass for him. “What a pretty girl.” He sucks in air, slapping his hand down on your ass. He aligns himself with your wet pussy, your fingers gripping onto the ceramic sink. He fills you completely, arching your back deeper to bury himself all the way inside you. 

“Taking me so well. It’s like you were made for me” he groans, pulling away to admire the way you take his thick cock. “You’re always so good for me, aren’t you, baby?” You moaned in response, thrusting back against him. 

“You wanna prove you’re mine?” 

“Please” 

You heard him shuffle around momentarily before he propped his phone up against the bathroom sink. The camera app was open and it was recording. “Go on,” He emphasized his words with a sharp thrust, “Say that you’re mine” You forced your eyes open and looked directly into the camera. “You’re mine forever, aren't you?” 

“I’m Yours, Donghyuck” You caught a glimpse at your reflection and you looked wrecked. Mascara started to run down your cheeks, hair knotted and a mess from the way he'd been pulling it earlier and your cheeks warm. You knew you couldn’t go back out to his family like this but that was the least of your concerns right now. All you could think of was Donghyuck and how he just hinted at forever. Forever with him.  

“I’m yours forever. All of me is yours, I'm all yours Hyuck.” You watched his smirk grow wider, his hips thrusting into you with far more intensity than before, enough to make your brain go blank. You’d lost all sense of where you were and why. No care in the world for your surroundings had you crying his name out loud. It seemed even he didn't care about how loud you were being because all he did was chuckle and trail his hands down to your core so he could toy with your swollen clit. 

“You’re mine forever? That’s what I like to hear.” He ended the video but the camera remained facing your wrecked figure. The more you stared at yourself, the ruined look on your face,the humiliation and the way he was smirking down at you so desperate to cum, made you closer to your release. And accompanied by Hyuck’s ministrations on your clit, you were cumming in no time, stars blotting your vision as your knees go weak. 

“I’m cumming—fuck—” Haechan grunts. hips pressing into yours as he buries himself deep in you and empties his load. You feel his length twitch inside of you. He gave you both a second to calm down before slowly pulling out, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you fix your clothes back into place. 

You relished in the thought that you’re Donghyuck’s. He’s yours. You hadn’t seen him since that night at his family’s house and you’d spoken to him maybe twice since. He told you he’s gonna be busy with work in the days upcoming so you decided not to bother him. 

Today was his rare day off and he told you he’d stop by to see you but its been three hours since he was supposed to be here and you’re still waiting to see him. He hasn't replied to your texts, answered your calls or even told you he was gonna be running late. You chose to occupy yourself by scrolling through Instagram while you waited. 

Immediately, the first story you saw was Mark’s. He’d posted pictures from a party with the text “crazy night last night”  You smiled to yourself as you clicked through his story, he posted a number of pictures and videos from that night however one specific video caught your attention.

Donghyuck in the back of it, his honey skin glimmering under the light. You watched the video intently, Donghyuck was kissing this girl with the same passion he kissed you with back on Christmas. 

So much for being busy. 

Immediately, you called his phone, surprised when he picked up on the first ring. 

“What is it, Y/N?” He sighed over the phone

“I saw the video, Donghyuck.” 

“Y/N. Remember our rules? We are nothing”

“But I-” You want to say something. Something out of pure rage and heartbreak. 

Before he cuts you off, “I don’t owe you anything, I do” 

“Fuck, all our rules, Hyuck. Fuck them all. All I want is you. In every way possible. Be mine. Please"

“Just– Move on,” And with that, he hung up the phone, leaving you there with a heavy heart and speechless. 

Guess it really was just casual. 

[luvergirl-866]

something like love

part - 2

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 5.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You kept stealing the blankets last night.”

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

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

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

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

——————————————

Finals come far too fast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“KK—“

“Girl, just answer the question!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No?” Azzi asks. “You’re not tired?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It gets to Amari, and it slows.

It passes by Inês, barely moving anymore.

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

The girls all cheer, oohing and laughing.

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

They should have known this would be inevitable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——————————————

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

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

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

“Yo, are you gonna puke?”

Azzi groans. “Probably.”

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

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

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

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

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

Azzi spits. “No, I don’t think so.”

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

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

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

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

“Whoa, pause.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Guess we coulda planned it better.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We did fine last night, didn’t we?”

“We were drunk last night.”

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

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

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

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

Azzi splutters for a moment. “Practice?”

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

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

What a little shithead.

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

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

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

“Okay,” Azzi says after a moment.

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

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

Paige swallows thickly. And then she nods.

Okay. So. That’s…unexpected.

Paige wants to kiss her.

That would explain the lip-ogling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She has really gotten herself into some shit this time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azzi shrugs helplessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@smiths-fan--13 @ch12334

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓂𝑒? ౨ৎ

suna rintaro x reader. 609 wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ timeskip suna ﾉ suna is out of the country ﾉ honestly just lovesick ramblings :3

“do you miss me?” suna asks, only his eyes and the fluffy dark hair peeking out from his hood visible on the screen of your phone. if you had to guess, he must be lying on his stomach, phone lazily tilting back in his loose hold.

“hm, i don’t know.” a crease forms between his eyebrows at your unfavorable answer. you try to stop yourself from smiling as you continue. “having the bed to myself has been nice. i haven’t had to worry about your ice cold feet waking me up in the middle of the night.”

“they’re not that cold…” you can’t see it but you can hear the pout in his voice.

“liar—they might as well be actual blocks of ice.”

with a defeated sigh, suna’s phone tips back even more, obscuring the entirety of his face, leaving you with nothing but a view of the ceiling. even his voice feels a little farther away. “maybe i’ll just stay here forever then.”

“so dramatic,” you declare with a laugh. a smile lingers on your lips even after you put the joke to rest. “i’m just kidding. of course i miss you.”

he adjusts his phone once more, finally fitting the entirety of his face in the screen. he doesn’t look convinced of your words, eyes squinted in skepticism, lips still tugged down in a small frown. “what exactly do you miss about me?”

“everything,” you tell him.

“that’s not specific enough.”

you almost call him out for being so needy but you suppose listing off a reason or two is the least you can do, considering you were the one to start all of this. “okay, i miss the smell of your cologne in the apartment.”

it’s nothing specially, really—the same fresh scent he’s been wearing for as long as you’ve known him, but the lack of it seems to make you hyper aware of his absence. like a candle you light for comfort, his signature scent has become a homey one to you, not so easily replaced by others.

your answer seems to bring suna some type of consolation, his eyes softening. the frown he wore has all but disappeared but he doesn’t let himself smile quite yet. “anything else?”

you hum thoughtfully for just a moment before something comes to you. “i miss your late night snacking and how you always share with me.”

as much as you scold him about eating so late, you’re just as guilty whenever you find yourself sitting down to enjoy ramen with him far past midnight. though, there’s something strangely peaceful about the two of you passing a warm bowl between each other in the silence of the night—when the rest of the city has gone to sleep. little moments like those make it feel like the world belongs to the two of you alone.

suna nods in acceptance of your answer, although he still isn’t willing to let you off the hook. he meets your gaze through the camera, wishing that he was able to do so in person. “one more.”

“fine…” you don’t have to think for long to come up with one final answer for him. “i actually do miss sharing the bed with you. it feels empty when you’re not here.”

that’s probably your least favorite thing about him being away—how you have no choice but to go to sleep without him beside you, how you’re forced to wake up without him near.

“i knew it.” a grin takes over his face but it isn’t victorious nor cocky—he’s genuinely happy that you’ve admitted it.

because sleeping without you is like not sleeping at all to suna.

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

[hoe4hotchner]

Hi!! If you still take requests could I request Hotch helping a fellow bau member after she tried to hide her ocd from him (like intrusive thoughts, counting and blinking hard etc not cleaning or contamination ocd)

Thanks! xoxo 🧡🧡

Blink twice, tap four times, hold your breath and count to six | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau!gn!Reader | WC: 0.5k  | CW: OCD | Summary: Hotch reasures reader when he notices their OCD being a little more frequent than usual |

You were certain you’d been subtle about it, always careful to keep your mind’s demands invisible. Blinking patterns, counting in repetitive loops, moving your fingers until they felt “right” — these things were all in the quiet spaces, hidden behind closed doors and the shuffle of paperwork. Or so you thought.

But Hotch was observant, maybe too observant for your own good. It started with small things: his brow creasing when you tapped your fingers on the table during briefings, his quiet gaze following when you seemed lost in thought, counting silently to bring calm. You brushed it off, certain he was just being his usual analytical self, until the day his concern broke through the usual boundaries he had set for himself.

It was late, everyone else had gone home for the night. You’d been poring over files, a trail of cold coffee cups beside you, trying to distract yourself from the prickling anxiety that had settled in your mind since a particularly tough case. Then it happened again — blink twice, tap four times, hold your breath and count to six, over and over. You weren’t sure how long you’d been repeating it, but when you looked up, Hotch was standing in the doorway to the conference room — You sometimes worked on your files in there to keep your mind on track.

“Can I come in?” he asked gently.

You cleared your throat, swallowing the reflexive answer to brush him off. “Of course.”

He entered, closing the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the quiet room. You half-expected a reprimand, a reminder to go home and rest, but his gaze was unusually soft, something between empathy and understanding.

“I noticed you’ve been… distracted lately,” he began, his words careful. “More than usual.”

The confession sat on the edge of your tongue, bitter and unwelcome. “It’s nothing. I just get… caught up sometimes.”

He nodded slowly as if weighing your answer. “We all have our patterns,” he said, his voice low and calm. “But if they’re weighing on you, you don’t have to hide them. Not from me.”

The words caught you off-guard. Your heart pounded, the intrusive thoughts flaring up in response to his kindness, an immediate discomfort in your chest at the vulnerability.

“Hotch, I don’t want anyone to think… that I can’t handle this.” The admission tumbled out, quieter than you’d intended. “Sometimes, my brain… it gets stuck in loops. It makes me repeat things to feel okay.”

He nodded as though he’d known it all along. “You’re one of the most resilient agents I know. But you don’t have to manage all of this alone.” He took a seat beside you, close enough that you could feel his presence. “If something is weighing on you, I want you to tell me. I can help.”

There was a soothing rhythm to his words, one that almost matched the way you counted, but softer and kinder. You swallowed, fighting the wave of embarrassment that rose at the idea of admitting everything. But his hand, warm and steady, rested on yours.

“I don’t think less of you,” he continued his voice barely a murmur. “In fact, I have more respect for you than you realize. What you’re dealing with doesn’t make you weak — it shows your strength.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words settle in your mind like stones sinking to the bottom of a pond.

“Thank you,” you whispered, the words carrying all the gratitude you hadn’t known you were holding.

[mj0702]

Secrets

Something different than the usual...

“Amor... Estic a casa!” Alexia said loudly as she pushed the door shut with her foot her arms full with groceries

“I'm just saying Jenni...” you said hoping no one heard your girlfriend in the first place

“.... qué??” Jenni said confused but the little flicker of your eyes didn't go past her “... todo bien?”

“Sí... bien” you said quickly directing your attention back to the screen

“Vale....” your best friend chuckled knowing exactly why you were distracted for a split second “... so you wanted to answer some questions sí?”

“Sí.... let's have a look...” you said scanning through the questions fans send in while Jenni and you yapped about anything and everything a few minutes before

“I like this one...” Jenni smirked “... what got you to move to Spain?”

“What got you to move to Spain?” you repeated confused and distracted as you watched Alexia padding through the living room bare feet

“TU... no yo” the Madrista rolled her eyes still smirking

“Sí... yo” you mumbled your eyes following your girlfriend who just started to put away the groceries

“Ay.... Ojos en la pantalla....” Jenni snapping her fingers in front of the camera trying to get your attention

“Lo lamento” you mumbled your eyes quickly moved to the screen again getting greeted with your best friend grinning wolfish “What was the question?”

“What made you move to Spain” the dark haired snorted

“Ehrm... I mean.. when Barcelona knocks on your door... you don't really throw that door shut in their faces” you rambled

“Oh come on... lame” Jenni rolled her eyes

“What... that's what made me move to Spain” you said bewildered

“I was the reason you moved to Spain” Jennis smirk widened

“You were the reason I nearly didn't accept the deal” you shot back

“Puta” your best friend snorted “.... stop lying”

“Well... we DID share a flat in France...” you grinned “... you're imposible to live with”

“¿¿disculpe?!?” your best friend exclaimed her hand over her heart “WHO brought you into hospital when you decided that the 7 week old yoghurt was STILL good to eat”

“Kurvetino” you grumbled blushing and the swear word made Alexia look over from the kitchen “... and WHO always walked through the apartment naked? And I mean NAKED”

“Yeah well...” Jenni grinned again “... I mean... look at me... who wouldn't...”

“My PARENTS saw your....” you started but then shut your mouth quickly “... next question”

“Vale... how did you two meet?” your best friend read of the screen “... I came to play for PSG and they made me share a flat with her because no one else wanted to”

“Puta... that's NOT how it went” you exclaimed annoyed “... they ASKED me if I could show the spaniard around and maybe teach her basic French... I had nothing better to do so I said yes.... next thing I knew was her climbing into my bed in the middle of the night complaining how cold it was”

“It is cold in France” Jenni pointed out not denying the rest

“It was summer” you rolled your eyes

“Still... I need warm temperatures” your best friend said

“You LITERALLY complained yesterday on Instagram that it was “too hot for 9.30”....” you looked at her expectantly

“I'm...” Jenni started as delicate fingers grabbed your chin turning your head and you felt soft lips on yours making you completely freeze

“Vaig dir que sóc a casa Amor” Alexia mumbled against your lips after she ended the sweet kiss

“I'm...” you pointed at the screen where suddenly the comment section exploded

“Oh please... it's just Jenni” your girlfriend snorted

“... and around 9.000 fans watching our little Live session” you murmured not daring to look back at the screen seeing how the eyes of your girlfriend got big

“Well...” the blonde was at loss for words

“Don't worry Chica...” Jenni now snorted “... I saw way more of you two than a kiss... I once...”

“Callarse la boca!!!” you interrupted your best friend quickly already knowing how her mind works

“Looks like you just confirmed all the rumours that floated around you two for a while now” your best friend smirked

“Well... no point in denying it now is there...” you rolled your eyes at the smug look on Jennis face

“Next question” the dark haired sing songed while your girlfriend still stood a little off screen rooted in her place her face a blank look of horror “How long have you been dating Ale... uh uh uh... I know the answer... I know the answer!!”

“But obviously no one cares about you since the question was directed to me” you huffed “... a little bit over 9 Month now...”

“... aaaaafter...” your best friend pushed

“After Jenni Hermoso introduced us at the Ballon d'Or.... her words were “This is mi Amiga Alexia... Alexia this is y/n... she doesn't speak a word spanish... teach her” and gone she was” you grumbled

“And oh she did” Jenni laughed “Was looking for you all morning the next day”

“NOTHING happened okay... you left me stranded you Kurvetino” you exclaimed and suddenly your girlfriend rebooted herself pushing you out of the frame

“I swear Jenni Hermoso... if you still gloat about the fact that you were the reason we ended up together – you are not” Alexia said

“But I am...” your best friend huffed “... you would never had the balls to talk to her if it wasn't for me”

“I was just waiting for the perfect timing” your girlfriend exclaimed while you try to find your balance

“I provide perfectivity” Jenni smirked proudly “... I'm your perfect timing”

“Bas si gnjavator” you mumbled appearing on screen again

“Sí... I am” your best friend smile even more proud

“You have no idea what I just said” you deadpanned

“That you love me and are forever grateful that you met me” Jenni grinned

“No...” you rolled your eyes

“That you love me forever and I'll be your Maid of Honour once Ale pulled her finger out of your.... HER ass and finally asks you to marry her” the dark haired grinned

“No... but you could be Godmother...” you smirked “... if you beat Keira to it... she's actually nice to me you know”

“Pff... that stand in bench friend...” Jenni rolled her eyes huffing not catching on what you just revealed as Ales hand protectively found your stomach

“Jenni” you groaned

“She only there for the time I can't” your best friend defended herself

“Well... YOU decided to fuck off to Mexico” you grumbled

“You know...” she started

“I do know...” you said softly ignoring the “screaming” of the fans in the comment section “... but sometimes I just wish you'd still be across the hall”

“You could always come here.... Sandra is coming too...” your bestie said hopefully

“I don't think so... Spain is treating me quite well...” you smiled slightly softly looking over to your girlfriend

“I mean... it would be funny... a Croatian player trained in France, her prime in Spain... retired in Mexico” Jenni grinned

“Far from retirement thank you...” you snorted “... but I do have to take a break soon”

“Your knee again?” your best friend face converting to pity

“Oh no... knee is fine...” you waved off “... sometimes you're just so dense Hermoso... even the fans already caught on”

“Caught on what?” your best friend asked confused

“Okay... official then” you huffed trying to calm your nerves feeling how your girlfriend started to draw small circles on your stomach in silent support “Jennifer Hermoso Fuentes... you know I love you to the moon and back...”

“Ehrm...” Jenni looked a little lost successfully interrupting you “... you sure you want to say all that with your girlfriend right next to you? If this is an offer for something... more than a friendship... I have to pass”

“Shut up and don't interrupt me again” your voice mirroring your nerves “... I love you... you are my best friend and I couldn't asked for a better friend than you... you've been with me through my highs and lows... you were the first one by my side when Carmona broke my knee in that game and you've been with me through everything... so... Jennifer Hermoso Fuentes... I couldn't ask for a better Godmother to my child than you... so would you do us the honour and be my babies godmother?”

“What?” your best friend looked flabbergasted at you while Alexia stood up retrieving the ultrasound pictures

“I need you to be there for my baby the way you've always been there for me” you said your voice strained with stress as your girlfriend handed you the little pictures

“What?” Jenni asked again as she couldn't wrap her head around the new information

“Jenni... please” you begged shoving the ultrasound picture towards the camera

“You... you messing with me right?” your best friend shook her head and in that moment your heart broke a little bit

“No...” you shook your head slightly biting your lip so you wouldn't start crying

“I... no wait...” Jenni stuttered and you watched how she stood up starting to roam the living room all the way in Mexico her hand in her hair

“Jenni” you begged desperately successfully getting her attention back on you the comments of the fans all forgotten as she just looked at you coming forward disconnecting the live

“Mi Amor” Alexia whispered softly as you tried to hold in your tears while the fans went absolutely mental about Jennis reaction to your news

“Can you...” you quickly said motioning towards the screen as you stood up speed walking into the bedroom closing the door behind you

It didn't took long until Alexia quietly opened the door to find you curled up sobbing quietly a spanish national jersey clutched in your fists as you cried into the material.

“Oh mi amor” your girlfriend said her heart breaking at the sight of you

“I thought...” you sobbed out as you felt the bed dip behind you

“Ssssshhhh...” Alexia hushed you gently laying down behind you her hand automatically finding that small bump that was the only evidence so far that a human was growing inside you “... sleep mi amor... I promise when you wake up it will be better... promesa”

“She's my best friend Ale...” you sobbed clutching the jersey tighter pressing your face into the fabric

“We maybe shouldn't have told her when so many people were watching” your girlfriend said knowing it was Jennis Jersey in your hand – you always got out her jerseys when you missed her it was your way of coping with the separation

“I didn't plan on it” you said thinking it was your fault

“No bebé...” Alexia quickly said “... don't start to think it's your fault... you felt it was the right thing to do”

“Obviously it wasn't” you sobbed “... she hates me now”

“No...” your girlfriend said softly pulling you closer into her “... Jenni could NEVER hate you... she's probably just... aclaparat”

“Overwhelmed” you offered the english translation

“Sí.... she needs to sort her head out” Alexia pressed soft kissed to your temple

“Good luck...” you chuckled quietly “.. it's Jenni”

“Sleep mi Amor...” your girlfriend said gently a little relieved that you calmed down a little bit

“Your child wants pollo al ajillo and patatas bravas as a midnight snack” you mumbled your eyes closed already

“Hm... I'll see what I can do to make our daughter happy” Alexia smiled into your neck her hand gently caressing your stomach

You were physically and mentally exhausted when you woke up the next morning. Alexia being the loco woman that you fell in love with already out running on the Beach like every morning and you knew she'll probably be back within the hour. You groaned as you rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom trying to get your day started when your eyes fell on the scrunched up jersey that laid carelessly on your dresser. Immediately your thoughts flew back to the afternoon before and to the reaction your best friend showed over the news of you being pregnant. You always wanted kids. Jenni knew that. She was there when you broke down in tears after a meaningless one night stand as you took a test. You wanted kids yes – just not like that. Jenni promised you all the years back that she would be there no matter the outcome. Now apparently her view on things have changed. You thought she would be over the moon. Maybe cry a little bit out of happiness. But not.... nothing. You felt so empty. You should've feel joy and happiness but right now you just felt empty. Your fingers felt the fabric of the Jersey your memories flooded back to the day Spain won the World cup. The second the final whistle blew you saw Jenni sinking down on her knees praying to whoever was listening above her thanking whoever would accept her silent prayer. Seconds later she sprung up to her feet sprinting over to where you were waiting for her. She pulled you over the barrier laughing loudly crying at the same time. Before you know it she pulled her jersey over her head and she woman handled it onto you.

Alexia watched you as you mindlessly stroked your fingers over Jennis jersey obviously deep in thoughts. Alexia was angry. This deep anger she knew she shouldn't feel towards also HER best friend but the way Jenni reacted to such important news was just – Alexia didn't know how to call it. It was more than inappropriate. It was just – not acceptable. Your girlfriend stood silently in the doorway sweat running down her back and her abs as she saw how your other hand came up to rest on the little bump. Alexia decided to leave you be with your thoughts knowing that no matter what she would say it wouldn't help you at all. The only person who could help you was Jenni. Jenni. The person who was responsible for your sadness but also the person who was the only one to pull you out of it – it was a paradox on. The blonde tried to sneak away as quietly as possible but you already sensed her presence turning around

“You've been quieter...” you smiled but Alexia saw the sadness in your eyes

“I still am... if I want to be” your girlfriend answered her face showing sorrow

“She'll... come around right?” you asked your voice cracking a little bit “.... she just needs time to process”

“Sí mi amor” Alexia covered the distance to you with three strides pulling you against her the Jersey still clutched tightly in your fist “... you know her... she's... dense... she just needs more time than others to understand”

“I don't have anyone else Ale...” you felt tears filling your eyes once again “.... I don't have anyone I want our kid with if something...”

“Nothing will happen mi amor...” your girlfriend spoke against your hair “... we'll see her grow up and be strong and brave and beautiful... so basically Jenni is not needed...”

“Who is your person?” you asked your head placed over Alexias heart

“Mapí” Alexia said seriously “And before you veto – with Mapí comes Ingrid... I trust Ingrid to take good care of another child – she has plenty of experience by then... she can make all the mistakes with Mapí and IF she's needed then she knows what she's doing with our Princesa”

“What if it's a Principe?” you chuckled at your girlfriends train of thoughts

“We can give him away and try again” your girlfriend deadpanned and it made you laugh

“Tell me she'll come around” you begged a second later as the hormones getting the better of you again

“She will...” Alexia pressed a kiss to your forehead “... even if I have to go all the way to wherever she is in Mexico and slap some sense into her”

It was two days later when something pulled you out of your not so peaceful slumber. It was some sort of ringing so you did what you always did

“Ale... your alarm” you groaned pushing your girlfriend harshly

“Sí...” Alexia mumbled against your shoulder still asleep

“Alexia” you grunted loudly pushing her again “... turn your alarm off”

“Lo siento” your girlfriend mumbled while she tiredly moved her arm to punch the alarm clock

“Gracias” you huffed getting comfortable again and JUST as you closed your eyes again the ringing started again

That's when you realized it wasn't the alarm... it was the doorbell

“Alexia...” you whispered

“Hm?” your girlfriend pulled you tighter into her her nose brushing against your neck

“There's someone at the door” you whispered again not knowing WHY you whispered

“Mi amor... just a dream” Alexia mumbled against your shoulder blade

“No I'm serious” you now said loudly “.. go look”

“Why me?” your girlfriend now groaned finally giving up on her sleep

“You can run faster if it's a robber or murderer” you said seriously

“Mi amor... mi vida... mi sol” Alexia rolled her eyes “... no robber uses a doorbell”

“Maybe he's a polite robber” you looked at her confused

“Of course he is” your girlfriend mumbled as the doorbell rang again

“Well... go open it” you pushed your girlfriend towards the side of the bed to get up

“I'm a two times Ballon D’or winner” Alexia said bewildered

“And I'm carrying your child... what's more importante La Reina??” you asked and Alexia knew there was only one correct answer so she groaned but got out of bed swearing under her breath

“If you are a polite robber... take everything what you can carry but let me get back to bed...” Alexia ripped open the door to immediately turning around again to get back into the cosy warmth of her bed

“I'm not interested in your stuff...” your girlfriend whipped her head around so fast she nearly fell over “... I'm interested in seeing my best friend”

“You have some nerve standing at my door in the middle of the night two days after you said NOTHING” Alexia sneered as she chased towards Jenni

“I...” your best friend started when Alexia stood in front of her poking into her chest

“No... you listen and you listen good...” Alexia grumbled “... you made her cry... you made her sad... you made her feel like you left her... she told me you were her everything – the only person she wanted around our child... and you fuck up saying NOTHING and just disappearing not answering any calls or texts? She cried into your Jersey Jenni and I'm not allowed to wash it because then it “doesn't smell like Jenni anymore”... “

“I booked the first flight over... it was with a ton of layovers... I got to the airport as fast as I could and left everything at home.... I just got through because people can google me – I don't even have one Pesos on me....” Jenni said taking whatever Alexia threw at her “... I love her Ale... not like you do... I would give my life for her... I want to hug her when she tells me she's pregnant... I want to cry with her together... I want to BE THERE when she tells me”

“I'm pregnant... I'm pregnant and you're the only person I wanted to tell from the day I had a weird feeling... but you were in Mexico and the Doc said to wait until the end of the first Trimester since that's the most difficult time... we said my knee was acting up that's why I was on the Bench for the last games...” you suddenly spoke from behind Alexia after you came out of the bedroom looking for your girlfriend – kinda expecting her to be already murdered but you heard what Alexia said to Jenni and what Jennis answer was “... I wanted to tell you so bad but they banned me from flying since my bloodwhatever is kinda on the low end so Jennifer Hermoso Fuentes... I am pregnant”

You were crying when you spoke the last words and so was your best friend who just pushed Alexia out of the way to engulf you in the tightest hug. Jenni kissed your hair over and over again as you both were crying into each others bodies.

“I'm... gonna make some tea” your girlfriend grumbled but silently was so relieved that everything turned out how she hoped

“And some patatas bravas” you mumbled shyly looking at Alexia innocently “... not for me... your baby...”

“Mhm...” Alexia rolled her eyes playfully

“While your at it Putellas...” Jenni perked up but Alexia just threw her the legendary la reina glare

“Your girlfriend hates me” she heard Jenni say to you making you laugh

“You can share Patatas with your godchild” you laughed making Alexia smile to herself while she started to cut up the potatoes

“So... names... can't call it it all the time” your best friend said as she threw the door shut with her foot

likes by Mapí.Leon, Ingrid_engen and others

alexia.putellas Benvinguts a les nostres vides Valentina Jennifer Putellas Segura

Cata.Coll ~ strong grip... she's going to be a Keeper ♥️

alexia.putellas ~ recupera això!!!

Mapí.Leon ~ @pinata you owe me 100€.. i told you she's going to get Ales weird feet

Pinata ~ she can still outgrow them!!

Mapí.Leon ~ not with these genes 🤣

Ingrid_engen ~ i know who's going to apologize to Alexia and y/n for this very rude comment

Mapí.Leon ~ lo siento Alexia 😔

Ingrid_engen ~ and?

Mapí.Leon ~ and she's very beautiful

JenniHermoso ~ most beautiful girl in the world ♥️

y/n ~ keep it in your pants ... she's too young to be corrupted by you already

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 3- Easier Said Than Done

Summary: Frankie's been by your side through some of the hardest moments in your life. Three years have gone by, and now there's no one you want to see less when you find yourself at your lowest.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, descriptions of a panic attack, hospitals, teenage Frankie's back at it again making it impossible for us to hate him!!

A/N: Hello, my name is Madeline and I am unable to stop writing gut wrenching angst and yearning. (Hi, Madeline). Maybe one of these days I'll stop sobbing like an idiot when I write, but I fear that day may not be coming any time soon

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Spring of 2006, Age 17

Most people say it’s the smell of hospitals they can’t stand. For you, it’s the noise. The constant chaos of voices, monitors, sirens, carts clattering as they roll across the never ending linoleum floor drives you insane. Even when it’s quiet, it’s still never silent. There’s always an ever present reminder looming in the distance to not get too comfortable. The inevitable fear that something could go wrong, and have you wishing that all you had to listen to was the ambiance of continual pandemonium. 

That’s why it’s such a relief when you hear the quiet ping of your cell phone resting on the edge of your chair. It’s enough to drown out everything else for a little while. 

Frankie :)))))) 

Hey where r u?

Game starts soon and I cant find u 

Katie and Morgan said they havent seen u either 

R u ok?   

You

Yeah I’m ok. 

Dad passed out and hit his head. Mom wasn’t home so I had to take him to the ER. 

Called Coach K in the ambulance to tell her I won’t be there. 

It’s times like these that it takes everything in you to remind yourself that missing big events to keep your dad alive is better than going to big events without him being here. But when you’re decked head to toe in your soccer uniform, sitting on the edge of your seat in a crowded emergency room instead of getting ready to start the last game of your senior year, it’s hard not to feel a little bitter about it. 

You read back over Frankie’s texts as you wait for his response, doing the quick math in your brain before frantically typing back. 

You

Wait, didn’t you have to work tonight? Are you at the field? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Called off work weeks ago 

U really think I would miss ur last game? Cmon Kenz 

Guess its not a surprise anymore. Surprise! lol 

You hope the nurse passing by doesn’t notice the way you’re grinning like an idiot at your phone, biting down on your bottom lip to keep your smile from growing so wide it’ll hurt your cheeks. You re-read the last three texts over and over, your face growing warmer each time. You’re not sure why you’d expect anything less. It still never fails to make you feel like your heart is seconds away from bursting at the seams. 

Of course he came. 

So lost in your train of thought, you hadn’t seen a fourth text pop up across your screen, only the fifth text of “???” that preceded it. 

Frankie :)))))) 

R u at memorial or westwood hospital? 

??? 

You 

Memorial. Why? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Be there in 15 

You 

Frankie you don’t have to do that 

Frankie :)))))) 

2 L8! Already leaving! See u soon! 

The tears welling in your eyes were most definitely ones of relief, joy even, that Frankie cared enough to attempt to make it to a soccer game you weren’t even at, let alone forgo a night’s worth of pay to drive himself to the hospital to see you. 

Your momentary excitement comes to a sudden stop as onslaught of bodies rush into your room to examine your dad. You’re quick to realize you’ve once again been caught up in a stampede where you’re nothing but another person in the way. An invisible presences that means nothing to anyone in this room. It makes the once blissful wetness welling in the corners of your eyes start to sting with a vengeance. 

But you’ve come very quickly to learn that crying doesn’t help anyone, especially when you’re not the one dying. 

You try not to let it hurt when your mom doesn’t even acknowledge the fact you’re sporting the jersey of the team you were supposed to start playing with twenty minutes ago, like you had brought your dad to the hospital in your uniform because that and your cleats were the easiest thing to throw on before you called 911. It’s even harder to try not to scream at the fact she barely pays your presence any mind, not even so much as a ‘thank you’ for getting your dad to the hospital in one piece. What’s the most painful is that you’re positive that she, or anyone else, even notices you’re gone when you slip out the door.

You’re here so often that the hospital staff don’t mind that you pace up and down the rows of the waiting room. Sure, they’ll be sending you a bill for the hole you’re burning through their carpet eventually, but that’s not today’s problem. 

Right now, part of the reason for your frantic pacing is to cool off some steam so you don’t say something you’ll regret about your dad’s cancer having the audacity to ruin the most important soccer game of your life to date. 

You’re also here so often, the hospital staff know Frankie. So much so, that your favorite receptionist, Cassandra, has more than definitely broken several hospital rules to let Frankie stick around long past visiting hours when you’ve needed it most. That’s why all she has to do is give you that look to break you from your vicious cycle of pacing to let you know when he’s arrived through the sliding glass doors of the front entrance. 

Most times, he at least makes it a few steps inside before you notice him. Tonight, he’s barely halfway through the door before you’re wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug you have to muster. He pulls you in even tighter. 

It’s then that the reality of it all starts to set in. Your best friend had to drive to meet you at the hospital because he’s the only one that remembers you have a soccer game tonight. Your dad is in a cyclical pattern of slowly dying that leaves you feeling like a terrible person for even wishing things were different. You’ve spent the past nine of your seventeen years of life only knowing a world that revolves around cancer. For nine years, you’ve never complained that this is the way your life has been. Tonight, you’ve decided that the weight of the world is un-fucking-fair. 

Tonight, you’re not the one dying, but crying seems like the only reasonable thing left to do. 

You should be embarrassed by how loud your sobs are, how quick the damn breaks once your body finally lets you give into the pain. These are the kind of tears that make your whole body shake, the ones that make your chest hurt because you can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like some poor, lifeless fish, begging to be thrown back to the sea. 

Frankie’s seen you cry before, but not like this. You should care about how your tears are staining the fabric of his t-shirt, how he’s the only thing keeping you standing while your body feels like it’s about to give out underneath you. You hadn’t said a word to each other before you’d collapsed in his arms in a sobbing heap, but right now you don’t care. You can’t. 

You’re sure words are exchanged at some point as he practically carries you out to his truck, at least giving you the decency to finish crying without unwanted eyes in the waiting room glued to you, but right now, you can’t remember. 

You’re not sure how long it takes you to get back to the point of being able to breathe at a semi-normal pace, but something tells you that Frankie will hold you for as long as you need him too, crying or not.

He gently strokes your back, his thumb tracing over the fabric of your jersey as it draws small circles over and over, a sweet and simple dance of his fingers that steadies you just enough to keep from flying away. 

“It’s okay, Kenz. It’s okay.” It’s melodic the way Frankie coos it in your ear, like he’s trying to hush a fussy baby fighting sleep. It’ll take time, persistence and patience, but lucky for you, he’s got all three in spades. “I promise you’re okay. I’m here.” 

“This fucking sucks.” It’s not elegant or graceful, but it’s the truth, and right now, it’s all your brain can process. 

“I know it is, Kenzie. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not fair. I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life worrying that this is the last day I see him. I just want life to be normal. I just wanna go play my stupid fucking soccer game. It’s not fucking fair.” You ball your fists against Frankie’s chest, pounding into him like he’s the one responsible for your hurt and anger. He’s not the one you need to take it out on, but he’s all you have. You hope he knows it’s not his fault he’s become your emotional punching bag as he takes blow after blow, despite how weak your swings are. You’ve got no strength left to fight. 

“I know. It’s not fair. It’s not fair, MacKenzie.” 

He takes it all until you have nothing left to give. You’ve lost a game no one ever has a chance of winning. Defeat is the unwanted trophy life rewards you with, but Frankie stands at the podium with you. He’ll take the hits if it helps ease the blow. 

“Will you be okay if I’m gone for five minutes? Just five, I promise, and then I’ll be right back.” His question catches you off guard, breaking you from your agitated state, nodding your head just enough to give him the permission he needs to race back through the doors of the hospital as you climb into his passenger seat. 

His truck gives you the kind of familiarity the hospital doesn’t. It’s hard not to find irony in the fact you feel safer in his piece of junk car where the wheels could give out beneath you at any moment than you do in a building that is built for saving people’s lives. Maybe it’s because his truck is filled with the memories of moments in life that make you feel like things are going to be okay. 

With the way Frankie’s breathing as he jumps into the driver’s seat, it’s hard to think he’s not back in less than two minutes, rather than five. He doesn’t say a word to you as he cranks the ignition, only a little prayer under his breath that now’s not a time his engine has chosen to give out on him. He doesn’t let you ask any questions until you’re already on the road. 

“Frankie, what’s- Frankie what are you doing?” 

He’s got that crazed kind of look in his eyes he gets when he’s hellbent on making something happen. He always likes to say that you’re the stubborn one. It makes you wonder the last time he’s taken a good, hard look at himself in the mirror. 

“I’m taking you to your game.” 

He says it so matter of factly, like his response to nearly kidnapping you out of the Memorial Hospital parking lot shouldn’t warrant any questions. 

“What?! Frankie! I can’t just-” 

“The doctor in the room said he’s stable and he probably won’t be conscious for the next few hours anyways. Your mom said it’s fine. I’m not letting you miss out on this. You deserve to get to play, Kenz.” 

You’re not sure at that moment if you want to kiss him or slap him across the back of the head. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. 

“Frankie, I-” 

“I’ll turn around and take you back if you want me to, but I don’t think you want me to turn around.” 

God, maybe you do want to kiss him. 

“I hate you, Francisco, I hope you know that.” 

“I know. It’s okay, you play better when you’re angry, anyways.” 

It’s always the little smirk in the corner of his mouth. The one he makes when he knows he’s right. It’s the same smirk he makes when he greets you after you’ve scored two goals to help your team win the last game of your high school career. The same one he gives you when he buys you ice cream to celebrate with two scoops of cookie dough instead of one, because you won’t stop laughing at his stupid joke about your big appetite for winning. 

That night, you fall asleep on his couch, too tired to drive back to the hospital, too scared to sleep in your house alone. You’re not sure if you mean to doze off with your head resting against his thigh like some sort of makeshift pillow. It’s easiest just to blame it on the fact you’re too exhausted to get up. But as you close your eyes and drift to sleep, you’re almost sure that the only muscle Frankie dares to move is the one that pulls the line of his lips into that same smirk you’d rather die than live without. 

You, Present

You’re shocked your initial response to seeing Frankie Morales for the first time in three years wasn’t immediately slamming your front door in his face and telling him to fuck off. 

That’s what your body wanted you to do. For as badly as it did, your some part of your brain wouldn’t let you. 

It’s probably the same, stupid part of your brain that won’t let you stop staring at him, either. 

He looks good. Way better than you’d like him to. It doesn’t seem fair that he somehow manages to find a way to return home more handsome than when he left. It happens every damn time. You swear he does it on purpose. You don’t know how he could, but that’s what you tell yourself. It makes it easier to hate him. 

“I didn’t know you were home.” 

It’s probably the worst thing you could have said to break the awkward silence stewing between you, because you both know it’s a dirty lie. But at this point, you’re far past granting Frankie the privilege of being a part of the truth- you’ll give him your version of the truth that you want him to hear. You’re not letting him have the upper hand. 

“Yeah. I uh- got home this morning.” 

Good to know the best either of you could do was reduce your relationship down to nothing but lying. If that’s the game he wants to play, then so be it. 

“Drive was good?” 

“Yeah.” Lie. “You?” 

“Fine.” Lie. 

For as much as you know the lies hurt, it’s the curveball you hit him with next that you hope stings the worst. 

“I didn’t think you were gonna come.” 

Because that was the truth. The way his face drops tells you the guilt ridden punch you’ve socked him with hits exactly where you want it to. You want the truth to hurt more. You want it to hurt just as bad as the way his truth hurt you. 

“Of course I was gonna come.” 

It’s a poor attempt at a swing back. He showed up with a knife at your gun fight. He knows well enough you won’t show him any mercy. 

“Wouldn’t have been the first time you hadn’t shown up for something important, Frankie.” 

“Your dad’s fucking dying MacKenzie, what makes you think I wouldn’t be here?” 

“Well, he’s been dying for the past three years so I’m glad you’re deciding to show up when it’s convenient for you.” 

That one shuts him up real fucking fast. 

His jaw ticks as he takes a deep breath, staring up at the sky like there’s something written in the clouds that will give him instructions on what to say next. There’s not much he could say at this point that would shock you, but Frankie never ceases to be full of surprises, whether you like it or not. 

“I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Kenz. I’m sorry.” 

That shuts you up even quicker. 

It shuts you up because you know he’s not lying. The truth is buried in the way his voice breaks at the start of your name, the way the “K” trembles off his tongue and shakes in the back of his throat. 

Your heart is mangled in your chest, hearing him say the two words you’d never thought you’d get and realizing you can’t accept it. 

“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough, Frankie.” 

Neither of you are sure what to say. It’s tough to tell if the fight is over because Frankie’s stabbed you to death and you’ve unloaded every last bullet you had, or if you decided to put your weapons down and walk away before any casualties have occurred. While it’s hard to deny it’s the latter of the two options, at least the first one would have been the honorable way to go. 

“Honey, is that Frankie at the door? Let him in, MacKenzie, don’t make him stand out there!” 

If there’s one thing you can always count on your mom for, it's that she’ll never fail to have impeccable timing, for better or worse.  

You don’t intend for the sigh you let out to be as loud as it is, but it certainly makes it clear to Frankie you aren’t happy about obliging to your mom’s request. You expect him to pass you like you don’t exist, entering your house to greet the two of the three family members who still care about him enough to not burn a hole through his chest every time they look at him, but he doesn’t. He waits for your okay, frozen on the porch until the subtle shrug of your shoulders signals you’ve given him the all clear to pass. He wants to know you’ll at least let him through unscathed for now. 

You follow behind him as he enters your house, trying to ignore the fact you’re entranced by the dark brown curls that still tickle the nape of his neck as he walks, or how the width of his shoulders nearly stretch from one end of the door frame to the other. You’re starting to regret not letting him follow you in  instead. 

You nearly bump into him with how quick he is to freeze once he sees the state of your living room. In the past few weeks, it’s made a terrible transformation from the space you once knew to a makeshift hospital room. The hospice workers had crowded your house with beds, oxygen tanks, and a wheelchair your dad refuses to sit in, an endless puzzle of enough supplies to let your father die in his own home, rather than the cold, sterile wasteland of the nearest hospital. 

You’d been able to ease yourself into your dad’s decline. You’d watched the months leading up to now as his body became weaker and sicker, reducing down to nothing but bones and deep, dark set eyes. You were a first hand witness to how cancer had greedily sucked every ounce of life he had left in him, taking and taking until he had nothing left to give. 

Last time Frankie saw your dad he was in remission. He looked good, healthy, even. That was three years ago. Frankie would have never imagined barely being able to recognize the man that was the closest thing to a real father he’d ever get. 

You want to scream at him that it’s his own damn fault he’s this shocked when he comes face to face with the shell of the man your dad used to be. But with the way you can practically see the guilt oozing out of Frankie with every step he takes towards the near lifeless body lying in the misplaced hospital bed in your living room, you can’t help but let your empathy get the best of you. 

“Hi Frankie, how are you? It’s so good to see you, honey.” 

Even though your mom knows you’re seconds away from wanting to dropkick Frankie off the face of the earth, there are few things she’ll ever let get in the way of her warm and welcoming demeanor. 

Frankie’s still borderline speechless as your mom grabs the tray of cookies he’s been awkwardly toting before she embraces him, arms still glued to his sides like he’s too afraid to move. The way she’s got him in the hug gives him no choice but to stare at the unsettling image of your dad over her shoulder, barely strong enough to turn his head to see what all the fuss is about. 

“H-hi, Mrs. Anderson. I’m okay. It’s good to see you, too.” 

“Is that my Frank the Tank? C’mere, kiddo. I was hopin’ I’d get to see you.” 

The past few weeks have made you shed enough tears to last a lifetime. Never once did you expect the thing that would make you cry the hardest out of everything you’d been through was hearing the long lost excitement in your dad’s voice upon Frankie’s return. 

It’s childish, the way you storm upstairs and slam your bedroom door behind you without a word, heat seething through your veins at the way your dad was so quick to forgive, welcoming Frankie back into his home like a day hadn’t passed, like he had been there right alongside him every step of the way through his descent. Your blood boils at the fact your father can’t be bothered to remember that Frankie had been nowhere to be found for three fucking years. Not a text, not a call, not even a “Frankie says hi!” through his mother four doors down. 

You can deal with the embarrassment of throwing a full blown temper tantrum later, but that’s more tolerable than spending another second in the same room as Frankie.  

“Well,” your dad huffs, his face grimaced with sarcasm as he looks back and forth between your mom, Frankie, and the empty presence you’d left behind, “that went well.” 

“Sorry about that, she’s um-” 

“She’s fine. Just stubborn.” Your dad grumbles, cutting off your mom with the best attempt he can make to raise his arm from the bed and wave her off. 

“No, I uh- it’s fine, I just- I should probably get going, don’t wanna take um- take up too much of your time.” Frankie’s heart sinks in the uncomfortable silence, quietly cursing himself for the mess he’s made. 

“It’s what, 8 o’clock in the morning? You got a bingo game at the senior center you need to get to, young man?” 

“No, I just-” 

“Perfect, no is the only word I needed to hear.” Your dad weakly smiles, gently patting the edge of the bed for Frankie to join him. 

Your heart winces hearing the heavy footsteps a floor below you from your bedroom, knowing the direction they’re heading is only further into your house and not back out the front door where you’d prefer him to be.

Thank goodness your dad has lost the ability to speak loud enough for you to hear the words that follow the thumps of Frankie’s feet. 

“Frankie, I’ve lived a very happy life. There are few things about it I’d change. But you know just as well as me that my daughter is the one who so lovingly inherited my stubbornness. Lucky for me, God knows I’m stubborn enough not to die until you and her figure this out. Unlucky for the both of you, that my time for stubbornness is starting to run thin.”

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[urno1luv]

IM OBSESSED WITH THE SANA FIC!! can you make a noncon sana x aespamember!reader??

aespa and twice were having a collab and reader was unaware sana had been eyeing her for quite some time now,, any aespa member) points it out and you just shrug, thinking she was trying to look at something else and that u were just in the way, then the rest is u can continue it:)

LOVE THIS IDEA!!! hope u like this ♡

maybe i should've done this in 2 parts bc this is pretty long😔also instead of twice collabing, i did sana x aespa for her mini album🙏

cw: noncon (at the end), power imbalance, implied prostitution?, sana lowkey crazy and distorts things to fit her reality, not proofread so excuse any errors🫶

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

The studio is alive with energy, you and the rest of the æspa members huddling around the recording booth. But you feel a different sort of energy prickling at the back of your neck—a pair of eyes that have been fixed on you since you walked in. Sana.

You knew working with someone like her would be intense. She’s a legend, someone you (used to) admire. So when you and the girls found out you would collab with her on her first mini album, you were all amazed. But the way her gaze settles on you, unwavering and almost hungry, isn’t anything like you first expected. Every time you glance up, she’s watching, smiling like she’s found something precious, and the weight of her focus makes it hard to breathe.

Karina also noticed the way Sana was staring at you, and she teased you for it. "Sana-sunbaenim seems to have a little fixation on you'" she says as she nudged you. You glared at your annoying friend, but couldn't help but feel really uncomfortable under her persistent staring.

When you take a break, hoping for a moment’s relief, she’s beside you before you can even take a step away. "You have such a unique voice," she says, voice soft and warm, but somehow possessive. "I've really… like... wanted to sing with you, especially on a project this important to me." Her eyes never leave your face, and you can feel the intensity simmering just beneath her words.

You try to keep your tone light, professional. "Thank you, Sana-sunbaenim. It’s… really an honor," you reply, shifting slightly back. But she doesn’t move, her gaze steady, her fingers brushing your arm in a way that feels too deliberate.

Hours pass, and the session winds down, but Sana’s attention only grows more intense. Every note, every line you sing, she’s there, watching, studying, like you’re the only person in the room. It’s as if she’s trying to memorize every movement, every glance. You try to ignore it, but there’s no escaping the weight of her presence.

Finally, as you gather your things, you feel her hand wrap gently around your wrist. The touch makes your skin prickle. You look up to find her standing close, too close, her eyes dark and unreadable.

“Y/n,” she murmurs, her tone heavy with something you can’t quite place. “I don’t want this to be the last time we see each other. There’s… something really special about you.”

A chill slides down your spine. You force yourself to smile, polite and distant. "I… appreciate that, Sana." Your short response to her compliment, slightly seemed to irk her.

Something shifts in her eyes, a hint of darkness. Then she smiles, as if nothing happened. “Oh, of course. I understand. But… I think you’ll come around. You just need time.” Her gaze lingers on your face, studying you in a way that feels intimidating.

You manage to pull your hand away, offering a quick goodbye before leaving the studio. But as you step out into the night air, you can still feel her gaze on you, like a shadow that won’t let you go. And you know, somehow, that this won’t be the last time. The thought sits heavy in your chest, a mix of dread and something darker that you can’t quite shake.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

A few months later, you and the girls got invited to MAMA, a famous award show. The interior is packed, the crowd buzzing with anticipation as you move through the backstage corridors. æspa is up for a big award tonight, in the 'Album of the Year' category, and you should be excited. But there’s a sense of unease that follows you like a shadow, something you haven’t been able to shake since that collaboration weeks ago.

It doesn’t take long before you see her—Sana, dressed elegantly, looking every bit the star she is. She’s surrounded by her group, TWICE, and is chatting with the girls. For a moment, you think she hasn’t noticed you, and relief flutters in your chest. But then, as if she can sense your presence, her eyes find you across the room, and that familiar smile spreads across her face.

You turn away quickly, hoping she’ll take the hint and leave you alone. But the rest of the night, you feel her gaze on you, just as intense as it was in the studio. It’s as if the crowded room only gives her more reason to focus on you.

During a break between segments, you slip away to the makeup room, hoping for a moment of quiet to collect yourself. You’ve barely taken a breath when the door opens behind you, and you freeze, recognizing her reflection in the mirror. She closes the door softly behind her, and the room suddenly feels much too small.

“Y/n,” she murmurs, her voice smooth and familiar. “I didn’t expect to see you alone.”

You try to keep your tone light, unaffected. “Just needed a minute to breathe.”

She moves closer, her eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “Award shows can be overwhelming, can’t they?” she says, her arm wrapping around your shoulder, in a way that feels like a claim. “But you handle it so well. You always do.”

Her touch is insistent, and you can feel the tension building in the air, thick and heavy. You step to the side, hoping to create some space between you, but she follows, her head leaning down to breathe in your scent, arms trailing back to hold you tighter.

“Is something wrong?” she asks, her tone sweet but laced with something darker. Her eyes are too focused, too sharp, like she can see right through you. “You’ve seemed… distant since the studio. I’ve been waiting to hear from you.”

You swallow, forcing a polite smile. “I’ve just been busy.”

She leans in further, her voice dropping down an octave. “You don’t need to play hard to get, my love. I know you feel it too—this connection between us.” Her arms curl more around your waist, firm, like she’s daring you to pull away.

You take a slow breath, steadying yourself. “Sana, I… I think you might be misunderstanding something.”

For a brief moment, her expression falters, but then the smile is back, sharper this time. “Misunderstanding?” she echoes, her grip tightening more and more. “You can say what you like, but I know the truth. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

She’s close, too close, and you feel trapped under the weight of her gaze. You look down, trying to find the words to end this, but your voice feels small, lost under her intensity.

Just as quickly as she stepped into your space, she lets go, smoothing her dress with a smile that looks almost amused. “Maybe I was wrong,” she says, her voice light, but there’s an edge to it that makes your pulse race. “Or maybe you just need more time.

With one last lingering glance, she turns and leaves, closing the door softly behind her, leaving you alone with the pounding of your heart and a sense of dread that settles deep in your chest.

You take a shaky breath, glancing at your reflection. The unease that Sana left behind lingers, like a shadow that won’t let you go. Somehow, you know this won’t be the last time.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

It’s early evening when the call comes. The company has scheduled a meeting with Sana, they say, per her "requests." You’re tired after rehearsals, and the memory of that encounter at the award show still lingers. The thought of meeting her again, alone, sets off alarm bells in your mind, but your manager insists. “It’s important,” she says. “Just for a couple of hours.”

Feeling dread inside, you find yourself in a car heading to Sana’s apartment, the city lights fading as you get closer. By the time you reach her building, a strange chill has settled over you. You press the intercom, and her voice comes through, warm and familiar, welcoming you up.

The door opens, and there she is, dressed casually but with that same piercing look in her eyes. She smiles, stepping aside to let you in, and the door clicks shut behind you. The air feels heavy, charged with something unspoken, and the silence stretches as you walk inside. Her apartment is elegant, understated, but something about it feels too intimate, too personal.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she says, gesturing to the living room. You settle on the couch, but her gaze never leaves you, following your every movement. You tell yourself to focus, and keep things professional, but there’s a strange energy in the air, something tense and unyielding.

Sana sits beside you, too close, her knee brushing against yours. “I’m glad you came,” she murmurs, her voice soft but laced with something darker. “I’ve missed you.”

You shift uncomfortably, trying to keep your tone polite. “So, what exactly did you need help with?”

She only smiles, watching you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. “I think you know what you're here for, doll.” she whispers, leaning closer, her hand resting on your thigh. You try to get up, but she holds your shoulder, making a noise of disapproval.

“Sana,” you say, your voice wavering, “I… I don't do that... stuff.”

Her smile fades, replaced by something colder. “You don’t have to act clueless anymore. It's fucking repulsive.” You feel trapped, unable to look away from her gaze.

The room feels smaller, the air heavy and suffocating. You try to stand, to put some distance between you, but she pulls you back down again. “You don’t need to be afraid,” she whispers, her voice unrelenting. “I’ll make sure you understand… how much you mean to me.”

There’s an intensity in her words, a finality that makes your heart pound. You try to pull away, to find the words to end this, but they feel caught in your throat. Her grip tightens, her gaze dark and unwavering.

"Please, Sana.... stop it!!" your voice gets higher in pitch as she stands up and drags you, strangely full of strength. She pushes you against a wall, your back absorbing the force of it. Sana snarls at you, her eyebrows furrowed. "The quicker you let me do this, the quicker you can run back home to your little friends, got it?"

You sob, as you realise what you were really sent over to her apartment for. You were just a tool to gain more power and leverage in the industry.

By the time you leave her apartment, the world feels different, the weight of her filthy, nauseating presence still heavy on your skin. You walk out into the cool night air, but there’s no relief, no escape from the feeling that something has changed forever.

Sana's fingers roughly entering your pussy as you beg her to stop only turns her on further, her own panties getting soaked. She pulls them out slowly, then tastes them, moaning. "How could I resist you, Y/n? You taste so good." Sana undoes her belt, to reveal a strap, the tip jumping up to touch her stomach. You squeal as you feel her shove it in, your voice hoarse from begging. Sana groans as she begins fucking you, her hand pushing your back inwards to create an arch, other hand wrapped around your throat. You can feel her eyes scanning up and down your back, and whine as she suddenly tightens her grip on your neck, her rings digging into you.

..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ....

[coffee-and-geto]

“CALL MY NAME FROM THE OTHER SIDE!”

“That’s it sweetheart, just listen to me.”

pairing: ghost! choso kamo x f!reader | kinkoctober

summary: on your wedding day, your husband died. ever since, when nothing goes right in your life, choso has to come into your dreams, and when you wish he’d show up for real, you don’t know that a curse has hit you. and that a certain choso haunts your dreams — even the hottest ones…

warnings: +18 MDNI, smut, nsfw, mention of blood, husband! choso, widow!reader, pet names (angel, my love, sweetheart, baby), kinda voyeurism (kink), fluff, slight angst, choso comes back as a ghost, masturbation, oral (f! receiving), erotic dreams, fingering (f! receiving).

wc: 1,402

On your wedding day, your husband died.

A tragic start to the rest of your life, isn’t it?

But how else could this story begin, when the stark memory of vivid crimson blood splattering across your pure white wedding dress still haunts you to this day? It’s impossible to forget.

That very night, after the briefest, most sorrowful of ceremonies, you tried to sleep, hoping to escape the nightmare your life had suddenly become. Just as it had started, your life had already fallen apart.

Choso was your first love, the one with whom you planned to build a family, to live a life full of joyful memories.

So what do you do now?

The shock hit so hard that you began seeing him in your dreams — Choso, with his jet-black hair tied back in little ponytails, resting against you after a long day of watching over his brothers. His warm breath, that adorable gaze, and his comforting presence…

God… Why was he doing this to you?

Was he haunting your dreams?

If that were the case, why didn’t he just manifest himself already, goddamnit?!

But would you have truly wanted that if it somehow became real?

Because what started as a mere wish became a curse cast upon yourself.

Every night after that, Choso came to your dreams. He slipped into your bed beside you as though he were alive, keeping you company like the husband he should have been.

And every time the dream felt too real, you jolted awake, as though he had been there. But the empty side of your bed always reminded you that it was all in your mind.

Until one night, Choso in his ghostly form slipped into your bed like a thief, not just a figment of your imagination.

What began as a gentle kiss in your dream transformed into something far more erotic…

And then it became real.

Hovering over your bed, Choso’s ghostly figure watched you, his gaze tender as he observed you writhing slightly in your sleep under the covers, your eyes squeezed shut, lips slightly parted as you whimpered his name in soft, needy tones.

Choso laid beside you, carefully brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and in that liminal state of sleep, you could feel his touch faintly, like an impression of warmth and closeness that was all too vivid.

“Poor sweetheart,” he whispered gently.

And, unconsciously, your hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pajamas, fingers rubbing at your sensitive, needy clit — all part of the dream… right?

In the darkness of your room, you felt your body heat up, a dampness pooling between your thighs as you dreamt of Choso kissing every inch of your body, leaning down between your legs, teasing your most sensitive parts.

And it was in that same darkness that Choso loved watching you, his heart heavy with regret that he could not manifest himself since his death, not until you unconsciously summoned him.

So, you began having these erotic dreams about him each night, dreams in which he fulfilled his husbandly duties in every way you desired.

Every night, you would close your eyes and find him there, a perfect, comforting presence so close to you in your mind’s eye.

His expert mouth on your clit, his tongue sliding along your slick folds, and even more.

The first night, you had to use your own fingers, working yourself desperately as you moaned Choso’s name, pressing harder against your sensitive core, seeking relief for the ache that his memory alone ignited.

The second night, the dream intensified, and in your half-sleep, Choso lay beside you, his presence so strong that you whimpered his name, even as you felt tears slip from the corners of your eyes. He reached to wipe them away gently, but as he started to pull his ghostly hand back, you grabbed it, eyes still closed, guiding it under your pajamas.

Choso swallowed, startled, wondering how your half-sleeping self could still feel him so vividly.

“Please, Choso,” you pleaded quietly, your body’s need guiding his hand to exactly where you ached for his touch. “Please…”

If Choso could still blush, he would have turned as red as a ripe tomato. But he couldn’t resist you. He had so many questions, but he knew his priority was to make you feel better as he slowly traced his fingers along your slick center, stroking up and down as you squirmed beneath his ghostly touch, your legs falling open even wider.

Choso circled his index finger around your sensitive bundle of nerves, teasing it slightly before lowering his touch and slipping a finger into your warm, welcoming depths when you whispered for him to do so.

“Mmm… Ah, Cho, feels so good,” you murmured, brows knitting as you bit down on your lip. You rocked your hips forward, and Choso couldn’t ignore the hardness straining against his ghostly form as he fingered you slowly. “Don’t stop…”

“You like this?” Choso mutters, kissing your temple so, so tenderly.

You nod slightly, your eyelids still shut. “Mh-hmm…”

And you look so peaceful listening to him that he can’t help but encourage you by saying, “That’s it sweetheart, just listen to me.”

You squirm, your hands gripping the sheets as your dream-turned-reality completely intoxicates you. You sniffle softly, finally feeling that deep, aching pleasure that only your husband could provide.

Your gummy walls clench around his finger, gripping tighter each time he pulls out. The sensation is dizzying, intoxicating, almost obsessive. Choso’s breaths come in slow, ragged gasps as he watches your face contort with pleasure, and he can’t help but add a second finger, curling them the moment they reach your sweet spot.

Your back arches, and a soft, adorable moan escapes your lips. Your eyes flutter open, focusing on the ghostly form of your husband.

“Cho?”

“Sweetheart?” he murmurs, thrusting his fingers more slowly. “You’re awake?”

“Cho,” you mumble, realizing he’s truly there. You turn towards him, pulling his form close as you sob softly into the crook of his neck.

“Shhh…” He pulls his slick fingers from your warm center, returning your embrace. “I’m here…”

“Missed you,” you whine, feeling the warmth of your salty tears rolling down on your cheek and end up dribbling in droplets on Choso’s neck.

“I know, I know,” Choso soothes, his heart heavy with emotion. “I won’t leave you again, my love.”

A silence falls over you, only broken by the rhythm of your synchronized breathing.

“Were you dreaming of me? Sorry about my fingers; you took my hand and—”

“I know,” you whisper, gently guiding his translucent wrist back down to your soaked core. “Please, I need you again…”

He slides his two fingers back inside you, pumping them with a faster pace, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. The wet, lewd sounds of your arousal make both of you smile. Your walls grip his fingers, urging them to plunge deeper.

With deliberate, slow movements encouraged by your soft gasps, he adds his thumb to your puffy clit, circling and rubbing intermittently to intensify the overwhelming pleasure.

You grab his shoulder with a firm grip, digging your nails in — surprisingly, he feels almost real — and pant against Choso’s ear, whispering how good it feels to be touched by him.

“God, so good,” you mewl. “Feels so good.”

You tighten around his digits as he continues striking your g-spot with each thrust, his knuckles sinking deep into your needy core until you’re gasping his name like a woman possessed.

“Cho, ah, please,” you moan, hiding your face against his chest, and he only smiles, savoring your sweet pleas. “I’m so close…”

“Hmm? My baby’s close? You wanna cum on your husband’s fingers?” he purrs, dotting your neck with soft kisses as he intensifies his rhythm. “Then come for me. Cum for your husband, angel, okay?”

You nod helplessly, moaning his name in a broken voice as you tighten around his fingers one last time, riding out your high. He feels you pulsing even after you catch your breath, and a comfortable silence settles over you both.

You trace idle patterns on his chest with your fingers, resting your cheek against where his heart would be, while he wipes his fingers with a handkerchief nearby. Pulling you close, he rocks you gently, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

For now, you have your husband back.

a/n: hey :D so, i admit it’s not like me to do such a short one-shot, but for choso’s, I didn’t really want to do too much. i wanted to do something quite smutty at first, but i didn’t have the strength to do more lmao

but now what i can’t wait to write is the next werewolf!satoru one-shot hihi! i’ve already got the ideas and— anyway. you guys will see, i’ll keep it a surprise :))

likes and reblogs are truly appreciated 💕

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappennedtobeenhappy-blog @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar @monokaix

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Welcome Back.

From the moment those tall iron gates— elegant and ebony—swing open and you pass through them, a dizzying nostalgia floods into you. Here is the line that divided the rest of the world from the campus guard behind its barrier. The air is thick with magic, tasting sweet as you sip it.

This feeling, you think, head buzzing from the thrill, can be matched by nothing else.

You’re in a crowd, allowing yourself to be swept up by it and carried along its current. Men in casual wear, men in formal suits, men in outlandish and odd attire. All of you, set on the same path down Main Street.

Seven statues stand erect, monuments to seven great historical figures.

The Queen of Hearts, her rounded proportions blossoming from a patch of roses. She holds up part of her skirt with one hand and a heart-topped wand in the other. Her peaceful expression betrays the sternness with which she commands.

The King of Beasts, perched upon a rock that slants up. The lion has persisted and finally scaled the peak. He now looks skyward, his cunning visage locked to and even grander future.

The Sea Witch, tentacles curling amid carved waves. She casually leans back, unfurling a contract in one hand. Sign, and she will bless you with her benevolence.

The Sorcerer of the Sands, appearing in a cloud of sand. He stands, thin and wiry, with his serpent scepter and a hand on his hip. His face is contemplative, mindfully considering visitors.

The Beautiful Queen, svelte and lovely as she steps forth from the smoke, A poisoned apple is suspended from her fingers. She is as tempting as she is tenacious.

The Lord of the Underworld, grinning amid broiling flames. His hands are both lifted, a ball of fire conjured on one fingertip. Playful as he is, the man is diligent in his work.

The Thorn Witch, her horns and tattered robes right at home in the briar. She is poised and elegant, fingers curled at her chest. Truly noble in every way.

You lower your head to them in deference as you pass.

The crowd funnels into a doorway, then into a dimly lit room. It’s circular in design, with several windows, the curtains drawn over them, and floating coffins ringing the outskirts. With the day banished, the only source of light were the apocalyptic green flames emitting from high sconces.

An elaborate crystal chandelier and many pearl lines hang over their heads. They shift in and out of the void, sometimes catching and shining in the glow of the flames.

In the center is a large mirror upon an elevated platform. The frame, an intricate braid. Its surface, dull and dark—as if coated in a layer of coal dust.

This, too, you remember vividly.

But not the small figure standing become the mirror.

They are fitted in a mourning gown of blacks and deep blues. Feathers adorn their chest, scattered iridescent fragments woven into their skirt. A long wispy veil obscures their face—but you swear you can hear an eerie, faint giggle come from behind the gathered fabric.

They lift their hands, beckoning you to draw nearer. You are compelled to obey, your feet drifting.

“Welcome, welcome, one and all,” they announce cheerily.

Your scalp tingles. And they sound so close too. Like a childhood lullaby, a musical box wound up.

“Welcome back to our Night Raven College. It is a pleasure to see you again. How nostalgic.”

Rose gold comes to mind, and you're unsure of why that is. It comes with a familiar feeling--of rediscovering a lost part of yourself, of rose-tinted glasses slipping on and clouding one's vision, of the wonderfulness of meeting an old friend. The color of dawn beckoning a new day.

Who is…?

They reach for their veil and carefully raise it.

Your heart leaps. Deja vu.

A demure smile. Honey-colored eyes staring straight into your soul. Wonder and curiosity radiating off of her.

You suddenly know who it is.

“We’ve missed you, dear alumni.”

[yuurei20]

Hii :3 this might be a silly one, but is there any difference, major or small in the twst novel, specifically yuuya and Malleus's relationship, since yuuya is more timid then game yuu, I was wondering if there were any difference regarding his and Malleus's relationships. Of course you don't have to answer if you want, I hope your day is well ( ＾ω＾ )

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! 🦐🐉

While in both the Prologue of the game and of the first novel the prefect overhears people whispering about Malleus during the opening ceremonies, it is only in the novel that we receive any information about the prefect's reaction:

While there is nothing in the original game to refute that the game-Prefect had these same thoughts about Malleus being famous and inspiring fear, there is also nothing to confirm it, so maybe we cannot technically be sure that this counts as a difference? 🧐

And Yuuya seems to remember Malleus' name, as he comes up again in the novel in a scene that does not exist in the game.

There is a whole section in the novel during one of the sleepovers at Ramshackle Dorm where Ace, Deuce, Grim and Yuuya discuss Malleus, including a rumor from Deuce about Malleus freezing the roses of the maze at Heartslabyul (in the game Malleus describes this as "a classic Thorn Fairy anecdote," but it is unclear if it is canonically a rumor in the game as well or if this is unique to the novel).

By this point in the novel Yuuya has only met Riddle and Leona of the housewardens, and he concludes that Malleus must be much the same.

So that is maybe one difference between the prefect of the novel/game's relationship to Malleus! 🦐 Whereas the game-Prefect doesn't seem to have much information about Malleus at all, novel-Prefect has had Malleus' fearsomeness and strength described to him before they meet.

By Novel 2 Yuuya is just as frightened of Malleus as the other first-year students, in another scene that does not exist in the game:

"Yuuya instinctively looks around to see if there is anyone nearby. While they are in a place that few students ever pass through, it is impressive how openly Riddle expresses his dissatisfaction with Malleus when he might be overheard.

Yuuya does not know anyone who would ever dare to say such things. Even Ace, so straightforward about everyone and everything else, is wary of Malleus Draconia." - Twst 2nd Novel (fan translation)

Then there is the scene where the two finally meet (without Yuuya actually realizing who Malleus is), which is a fairly big change from both the game and manga, with Malleus already knowing Yuuya by name:

"‘Yes, I live in this dorm now. My name is Kuroki Yuuya.’

‘Yuuya…ah, you must be Yuu, then.’

‘You know who I am?’ In the same moment that Yuuya asks this, he realizes that it is not so unusual. There must be very few people at the school who have not heard of him and Grim by now." - Twst 2nd novel (fan translation)

(Meeting Malleus pt1 | Meeting Malleus pt2)

Both the game- and novel-prefects take special note of Malleus' horns, and the game-prefect's reaction has the option of being more comical (Yuuya wonders if he might not be a goat or sheep):

"The jet-black hair that rests against the nape of his neck is all the more noticeable in the dim light, darker than even the night itself.

And there are horns upon his head, just as dark.

Yuuya stares at them. They compliment the man's well-shaped head, forming an elegant curve. And they are surprisingly large. 

Yuuya lowers his gaze to find that the man is looking back at him just as intently.

Yuuya quickly drops his eyes.

Regardless of what those horns might be, it must be uncomfortable for one to have their physical attributes stared at in such a manner.

Perhaps he has been rude.

This may be a beast-person, with horns like that. They do not seem so different from the horns of mountain goats or sheep. While this may not be so unusual in Twisted Wonderland, it certainly would be back in Yuuya’s former world." - Twst 2nd novel (fan translation)

(The original text reads "yellow-green armband," changed to just "yellow" for EN)

And the fallout of Malleus telling the prefect that he will not be telling them his name is maybe the biggest change! 🐉 In the game and manga we get the more comical reaction of "This guy's a little bit strange. / Why is everyone in this school like this?," but in the novel Yuuya asks again if he might have Malleus' name, and Malleus is not amused:

"‘Um, I wouldn’t want to be rude, so if I could maybe ask your name…’

‘I have said no. Did you not hear me?’

Yuuya feels a sudden chill run down his spine. Despite the once tranquil evening Yuuya goes stiff, a briar-like tension seizing his body and making it impossible to move.

Fear makes Yuuya’s heart race, and he comes close to losing his composure altogether. He should not attempt to defy this person who stands before him. Yuuya is taken over by a primal instinct that warns him: he must submit.

Suddenly, the night grows slightly brighter. Yuuya takes a deep breath and vigorously nods his head. It seems he had been forgetting to breathe. Yuuya’s heart still pounds loudly within his chest.

Realizing that Yuuya is not looking to defy him, the man appears to regain his pleasant mood." - Twst 2nd novel (fan translation)

In the novel we then receive more information about the impact that Malleus had upon Yuuya, which is not mentioned in the game:

"A yellow-green ribbon with a black line through it—Diasomnia colors, the same worn by Lilia and Silver. An imposing person like that would hardly be out of place in a dorm overseen by the much-rumored Malleus Draconia.

‘No point in goin’ to look for him, then. I wanted to see a human with horns,’ Grim says. ‘Was there anythin’ else about him?’

Yuuya does not know what to say. It is impossible to express it in words alone.

It was not a beauty that one recognizes at a glance, like that of Leona or Vil, but an otherworldly face with almond eyes that linger in your mind forever. An aura unlike that of anyone else, that none could even hope to attain.

Yuuya does not know if he will ever be able to put into words how he felt in that moment.

As Yuuya grapples with how to explain, Grim quickly makes up his mind.

‘Well, nevermind. Since we don’t know his name, let’s call him Hornton for now.’

‘Hornton?’ Yuuya’s eyes go wide. ‘That’s way too unsophisticated for him! He's sure to get upset.’" - Twst 2nd novel (fan translation)

And that is all we have thus far! Much looking forward to the third novel, which has yet to be announced as of this post, but maybe one day~🐙

[paarksunghoon]

https://x.com/venusyearwood/status/1854732444768858540?s=46&t=NrxIrEbb07Ubj-rzdh7oCg THIS WITH JAY — im thinking softdom!jay, lots and lots of flirting and being handsy and making out, reader is on jay’s lap he’s buried in her neck leaving marks and she’s starting to unbutton his shirt and unconsciously grinding her hips, he can’t take it anymore and drags her home and breeds her all night

oh you’re speaking my language…I pictured a cocktail bar for this

***

It’s not that anyone is really paying attention to either of you in this place anyway. Jay’s got a hold on your thigh while the rest of your friends chatter amongst themselves with enough alcohol in their systems to forget their surroundings and anything but the conversation at hand.

It’s the first time in a long time that he’s got you like this—away from the stress of life and the hustle of working hours. He knows far too well what it means to be preoccupied with things that don’t matter and seeing you in a little black dress and those high heels you love wearing so much makes him hold onto you that much tighter.

He’s got his thumb rubbing against the skin of your thigh the entire night but it does nothing to quell the building arousal you feel as you pulsate beside him. You don’t even know if Jay is doing it on purpose but it garners a reaction out of you, and you find that you’re barely able to hold onto the cocktail glass as you listen to your friends talk and chime in every once in a while. Jay’s touch is enough to get you to a sensation that feels an awful lot like being drunk even if you aren’t.

“Having fun?” Jay whispers in your ear. You love when he leans his head down to whisper in your ear. It makes you feel like you’re the only person he sees.

“Yeah. I really missed going to places like these.”

“You look beautiful too, baby.” Jay squeezes your thigh and hums. “That dress…you look phenomenal.”

The heat from his compliment and alcohol makes your cheeks flush. You stutter when you respond to him. “Thank you.” He laughs under his breath and squeezes your thigh, hand lodged between them as if to keep you sitting right next to him. Not that you’d want to be anywhere else anyway. You squeeze him with your thigh subconsciously when his warm breath ghosts the shell of your ear.

Jay seems to like that. He squeezes you back. “Are you doing okay, baby?”

You nod. “Mhm. Just fine.”

“Really? You seem a little tense.”

“N-No. Not tense. I’m fine.”

He squeezes your thigh again. “Needy little thing.” Jay pushes his hand up your legs until you spread them far enough to seem inconspicuous. The tips of his fingers touch you where you need him the most and he bites back a moan when he feels just how wet you are. “Knew it.”

“Jay! Our friends are right in front of us.”

He doesn’t stop sliding his fingers against your covered folds. “And? They’re too busy paying attention to each other.” You clamp your legs shut and Jay nods, scouring the room until he finds a secluded, dark area with a partition that separates from the main room.

Jay stands up and holds his hand out for you. His muscular arm is concealed by the button down he wears and yet his muscles almost stretch the fabric until it’s taught. Your own arms cling onto his as you follow him through the maze of people and when you look back to your friends, they haven’t noticed you two have gone missing.

The partition hides away a single drink tray on top of a metal table opposite of a wooden bench. It’s secluded enough for your satisfaction and Jay turns around once the two of you are out of sight and cups your jaw with his hands when he kisses you like you’re a delicate glass he doesn’t want to break. His lips are so soft and plump and the way he’s rubbing your cheeks with his thumb makes you feel something akin to being on cloud nine. It doesn’t help that he looks like the pinnacle of sex once he pulls away, eyes looking down at you through his long lashes as he paces himself.

He sits down on the bench and beckons you over his lap. You don’t particular care that your dress has ridden up your body and pools midway up your ass. His large hands come to grip you from behind as you make yourself comfortable on him.

“Pretty baby,” he whispers in your ear as he peppers kisses down the column of your neck. The sensation makes your toes curl and you clutch at his chest for support. “I missed you this week. Felt like an eternity.”

“I-I missed you too.” You breathe it out much like a quiet moan. “Missed your lips.”

“Yeah?” Jay licks up your juncture before sucking on your jawline where it meets your earlobe. “What else did you miss?”

Your hands spread all across his chest and the hard muscle underneath makes you much wetter than you already are. The gentle touch of your fingers against his buttons makes him look up at you from where he is on your neck. He’s already got a few buttons undone but you’re craving to see more of him and unbutton another.

“Missed your body…”

Jay spreads his legs wider when he starts to feel your hips rolling against his slacks. You move so slowly that he doesn’t think you register what you’re doing, but the way your fingers spread open his button down makes him think you want more than he’s offering right now.

“Oh yeah? What part of my body.”

“Mouth, fingers, cock…”

You don’t look at him when you say it. You stare at his semi-exposed chest and continue to grind up against him. He’s so hard in his pants that he involuntarily pushes his hips up against you.

“I can tell.” Jay brings his hand to brush your bottom lip with his thumb and cradles your cheek when you finally look at him. “You’re so cute when you get needy.”

You push your covered lap down on his. “I can’t help it. You look so good tonight and I’m having a hard time keeping my hands to myself.”

“You’re one to talk, baby.”

In an abrupt motion, Jay hoists you off of his body and pulls the hem of your dress down to appear decent and does his best to adjust his aching dick to look presentable. You whine beside him but Jay merely grips your ass as he silences to with a kiss.

“Be good for me, yeah?”

“But I need you.”

“I need you too, baby. Let me take you home. I’ll come inside you as many times as you want.”

[ovaryacted]

─ Javier Peña x fem! reader || WC: 693

CW: MDNI/18+. Slightly NSFW. Post DEA/Retired! Javier Peña. Javi & reader are married. Setting is at some family celebration idk lmao. Sexual innuendos. Sexual tension & teasing. Sex flashbacks and daydreaming. They are down bad for one another.

This has been in my drafts for a couple of days, figured I'd just share it now instead of letting it dust away in the notes lolz. Javi deserves some love from me, I miss him. This is also me writing after a couple of days of sadness so be nice pleak!

You’ve been through it all with the one and only Javier Peña. All the stressors and toxicity of his government job leaving Colombia, the nightmares, the self-loathing. Being and growing with him took time, and learning him as a human being taught you the patience you never thought you’d gain. He was an enigma you had to figure out, and miraculously, when he realized you were the puzzle piece he’d been missing all along, everything else followed through. After a few years together and an exchange of vows, things in your life have been more abundant than you thought possible, and now you’ve both reaped the benefits of going through those trials and tribulations together.

Sitting on his left side, the sounds of the banquet hall tuned out as you merely stared at your husband in awe. Dressed in a suit and his hair slicked back, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander as you admired him from afar. The invitation to a family celebration landed in your mail a few weeks ago, something a bit more formal for your taste, but neither of you could turn it down, nor did you want to.

You especially weren’t complaining when you saw how Javi dressed for the event, donning a black blazer, crisp white button-down, sleek black slacks, and dark leather shoes. He even changed his hairstyle, brushing his hair back after getting a haircut and his jaw clear of facial hair after his close shave. When he kissed you on the cheek as you did your makeup, you could still smell the aftershave he used and his musky cologne, overwhelming your senses in the best way. 

Your mind drifted as you daydreamed about his hands and how he used them. His plush lips, the way they caress you, map you out without having to ask. That mouth of his that spews the most diabolical and erotic things as he pleases you with no end in sight, the thought alone heated your cheeks and sent an electric pulse through your body.

You didn’t realize you were fidgeting in your seat until a hand grasped your thigh. Blinking and looking down to spot Javi’s left hand covering the length of your upper leg, he offered an affectionate squeeze, the golden wedding band on his ring finger gleaming under the hall’s light.

“What are you thinking up there, cariño?” He asked you, brown eyes reverently taking in your face as his thumb stroked your leg.

“Nothing much. Promise.” You couldn’t even look him straight in the eye, noticing how he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

“Mentirosa,” he muttered with a smirk, the dimples you loved making an appearance as he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip.

“If you stay on your best behavior for the rest of the night, I’ll give you something sweet when we get home. Deal?”

It was a proposition you couldn’t ignore. You knew what to expect, and the shiver rolling down your spine gave enough leeway that you understood the intent of his message.

“Deal,” you replied confidently, accepting the kiss he placed on your lips, a momentary tease of what the rest of the night would entail.

“Good. I don’t want everybody in here to know how dirty-minded my wife is.” You chuckled, glancing at him with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“That’s all you, baby. Don’t get it twisted.”

“Touché. But can you blame me? Not when you look this good in black.” He squeezed your thigh a bit harder this time, making his possession known the way you liked. “You aren’t the only one daydreaming right now, but a couple more hours, and we’ll make it a reality.”

You mimicked his grin, placing your left hand over his to clasp around his fingers. He instinctively took your hand, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles and grazing over the diamond ring that sat prettily on your finger. As you both talked to other relatives to pass the time, you kept his offer in the back of your mind, remembering to ticket it in once you’re away from prying eyes and in the comforts of your home.

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