#and the rest of the time we just have to absolutely beat the shit out of each other

[yandere-daydreams]

apologies to all of you who know me personally and congratulations to all of you who do not. i am quickly spiraling back into degrees of lewdity hell and i fear this time it may be terminal.

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely. I just had the scariest night last night and it ended with me in the ER for almost 7 hours. Basically I let a UTI go on too long and it traveled to my kidneys. But I was in the bathroom about to shower and I got super sick and dizzy and lightheaded, my hands and feet were tingling to the point of pain, I was DRENCHED in sweat. It was so so scary. I ended up passing out on the toilet (so embarrassing). I had to get my mom to come in and she took me to the ER and it was very rough there too because I was so dehydrated they couldn’t get a vein to give me fluids. So 6 times they tried, digging in my arm and all that before they finally got one. Later it ended up bursting which hurt a fuck ton. But all in all I feel like absolute shit.

If you can, could you write an EMT!marauders fic where something like that happens? Just the scary stuff in the beginning or whatever tickles your fancy. If not, no worries. I will just be reading and rereading all my faves of yours for the next few days while I try to get better 🥲

That sounds so awful, I'm sorry that happened to you!! Hope you're feeling much better by now lovely <3

cw: nonsexual nudity, dizziness, nausea, one sexual joke at the end

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 965 words

A knock on the bathroom door rouses you. Steam heavies the air, the porcelain of the bathtub slippery underneath your backside. You feel sick. 

“Hey.” It’s James’ voice, light as though he’s not really concerned. “Alright in there?” 

You look down blearily. A bottle of shampoo rests against your hip. You must have knocked it from the lip of the tub when you passed out, and James must have heard the sound. When did you pass out? For how long?

“James?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I need…can you come in here?” 

You hear the door open. Half the steam seems sucked from the room, cool air coming in. “Everything okay?” James asks. 

He tries to open the shower curtain, but you’re lying half on top of it and it doesn’t make it far. You lift up on one side to free it. Your entire body trembles with the effort. 

“Hey.” James definitely sounds concerned now, kneeling at your side. He puts a hand under your neck. “What happened? Did you fall?” 

“I don’t feel well.” 

“I can see that, sweetheart.” He shouts for the other boys. “Does anything hurt? Did you fall over?” 

“No,” you say. Footsteps sound outside, nearing you. “No, I sat down. But I think I passed out.” 

James frowns, taking your wrist to get your pulse. “What do you mean when you say you aren’t feeling well?” 

You don’t get a chance to answer before Sirius is pulling the curtain open further. “Baby, what the fuck?” He crouches beside James. It’s now that you realize how painfully naked you are, lying limply on the floor of the tub with hot water from the showerhead beating down on your lower half. “Did you slip?” 

“She passed out,” James answers for you, brows set in concentration as he feels your pulse. “But she sat down first.” 

“Oh, good girl.” 

Remus shuts off the water. You feel its absence immediately, your body at once lighter and colder. 

“Can I have a towel?” you ask. 

Sirius blinks as though he’s only just realizing your nakedness as well. He stands. “Right, I’ve got it.” 

“Why do you think you passed out?” Remus asks you. 

“I don’t know.” You want to give him a better answer, but it’s all you have. “I just got really lightheaded. I still feel sick.” 

“Sick like you’re going to throw up?” James presses. He lets go of your wrist, giving Remus a look you can’t interpret. 

“Yeah.” 

Sirius tsks, returning with a stack of towels and a fluffy robe. “Okay, well don’t worry too much about that. If you throw up you throw up, we just want to know what’s made you sick in the first place.” 

Between all three of them, they haul you out of the tub. The option of you trying to climb out on your own doesn’t seem to cross anyone’s mind. You land in Sirius’ lap, where you’re hastily wrapped in one towel and your hair in another, James drying your arms and legs with a third. 

“What else are you feeling?” Remus asks you. When you hesitate, “Anything at all, it could help us to know.” 

You try to take stock of yourself, shivering a bit as you do. 

“Cold?” Sirius deduces.

You hum. “And my stomach hurts.” 

He frowns. His hand covers your stomach over the towel protectively. “Yeah? Where does it hurt?” 

“Sort of…” You shift a bit, trying to show him. “On the side.” 

Sirius finds the spot like he knows just where you mean. “Around here?” 

“Yeah.” Panic makes your voice tight. “Don’t touch it, please.” 

“Okay. I won’t, sweetheart.” He moves hand away from your side, kissing your temple. “Have you noticed yourself feeling like you need to pee more often lately?” 

You give him a funny look. “I have a UTI, but this doesn’t feel like the same thing.” 

Remus groans. “Dove, really? You knew?” 

“I knew I had a UTI,” you say, confused. Wary, without really knowing why. “It’s not…this feels different.” 

“Why wouldn’t you treat it?” 

“I was going to.” 

“But when you wait like this and don’t tell us, you—” 

“Alright, alright,” James says in a peacemaking tone. He rubs the towel down your calf. “I think she’s got it, love. She’s clearly not enjoying this.” 

Remus closes his eyes, sighing. When he looks at you again, it’s with a softer gaze. “If you don’t treat a UTI,” he says patiently, “it can cause a kidney infection. I think that’s what you’re dealing with now, love.” 

“Oh.” Your voice smalls. “I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, that’s okay.” Sirius kisses your face again, his hold tightening when another shiver passes through you. “Why’re you apologizing to us, huh? You’re the one dealing with it. Passing out in showers and the like.” 

“I know you didn’t want this,” Remus promises you, his expression gentler now. James begins encouraging your arm into your robe. “We’ll get you to A&E, and they’ll give you antibiotics to take care of this, alright?” 

“Okay,” you say meekly. 

Slowly, they get you dried up, clothed, and upright. Sirius teases you about the dangers of not peeing after sex. Remus makes worried faces whenever your expression changes and offers to bring a bag along on the drive in case you’re sick. When you try to walk out of the bathroom and wobble, James is quick with an arm around your back. 

“C’mere, lovie.” He lifts you up into his arms. Clearly he’s trying to be gentle, but you moan anyway, pressing your forehead to his shoulder against a bout of dizziness. 

“Oh, I know,” Sirius coos. “You’re alright, baby. We’ll get you feeling better soon.” 

“I’m never letting any of you put it in me again,” you joke weakly. 

To your surprise, it’s Remus who laughs the loudest.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

The Alley (and Your Boyfriend?)

Minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. Smut written with AFAB reader in mind. ~2.8k words

Jason Todd is your ex-boyfriend. Kind of. You dated, yeah, sure. But it was in high school, years ago now. You had moved away before the school year had finished, and both of you agreed to remain friends, to keep in touch.

Life had different plans for both of you. The last time you had been in Gotham was for his funeral, so you think you deserve some leeway if you're staring at the man across the bar who looks just like him. Well, not exactly like him.

You're supposed to be celebrating your new job in Gotham, the apartment you've finally unpacked with your friends, but his eyes.

You could never forget the color of Jason Todd's eyes. Not when he was your first everything. Not when you know how his eyes would glint before he stole a kiss. How they would shine as he whispered sweet nothings and pretty promises.

(Okay, so maybe he was more to you than you're willing to admit. Maybe he wasn't just kind of your boyfriend.)

You'd probably be lost in thought over the color of his eyes for the rest of night, if his gaze didn't happen to meet yours.

Heat spreads across your face, and you duck your head. Shit. He caught you staring. The big, attractive man across the bar who has the eyes of your dead ex-boyfriend caught you staring.

That's fine. Mortifying, yes, but you quickly focus back on whatever your friends are talking about, trying to play it off.

You're finishing your drink, hoping he brushed you off, when a low voice cuts in, "Can I buy you another drink?"

Your eyes snap up to meet Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Your train of thought halts to a stop, he's ever prettier up close.

Before you've even managed to find your words, your friends are pushing you up and out of your seat, scrambling over each other to agree that he can absolutely buy you a drink.

He tilts his head a little at you, feet firmly planted against the ground as he waits for you to answer, "Is that a yes from you, doll?"

"I– yes. Thanks," You stumble out, and you might have gone a little weak in the knees at his grin.

He guides you over to the bar, and holds up two fingers as the bartender comes over. "Whiskey, and whatever they want."

You ask for a refill of your drink and sit beside him at the bar before introducing yourself.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "I'm Jason."

"My ex was named Jason," You blurt out, then wince. That's probably not what anyone wants to hear when they're introducing themselves. And it's definitely not what they want to hear while trying to pick someone up at a bar.

He hums thoughtfully, "I don't remember breaking up with you."

You blink at him, is that some kind of a pick-up line? "No, I meant, I really dated someone named Jason in high school."

He grins at you, "I know. I was there."

You frown a little, "Like in the same class?"

He laughs. It's a really pretty sound, if you weren't so confused, you would have swooned, "No, doll. Don't tell me you don't recognize me?"

Your gaze hardens, "If this is some kind of a joke–"

He says your name, effectively cutting you off, "It's me."

"He died," You murmur, so quiet it almost gets lost under the beat of the music.

He shrugs, and pushes your drink towards you as the bartender sets it down, "I got better."

"Prove it," You retort, fingers tapping the glass of your drink. You're this close to up and leaving. It makes your stomach churn, not knowing what game this man is playing.

He gives you a familiar, lopsided grin, "Prove that I got better?"

You scoff and go to stand up, but you waver at how he actually seems upset over it.

"Hey, hey, wait," he protests, holding out an arm to block you from leaving, "We had our first kiss in the back of Wayne Manor, in that old gazebo covered in vines. You asked me out because I was so obviously head over heels for ya, but I was too scared to ask. You said you'd wait for me when your family moved, and I said I'd wait for you too."

Your breath hitches at his rambling, it's–all of it is true. Memories you held close to your chest but never let yourself relive because of how much they hurt, the bittersweetness of it all. "Jason," You breathe out.

He relaxes, and smiles at you, "Yeah."

"How are you..." You trail off, taking in every inch of him. How much he's grown. How much he's changed.

He rubs the back of his neck, "It's, uh, a long story. It's not very nice either."

You nod slowly, "We don't have to talk about it."

He looks genuinely surprised, "We don't?"

"No, it's just good to, you know, see you," You tell him. It's the truth, whatever story he's carrying, whatever events brought him here, doesn't really matter right now. Not as long as he's alive and in front of you.

"It's good to see you too," Jason tells you, and you feel butterflies when he reaches over to touch your thigh, "Hey, am I really your ex?"

The absurdity of the question makes you want to laugh, "It has been a while since we talked, Jason."

You do giggle when he actually pouts at you, "You said you'd come back to Gotham for me one day."

"I am back in Gotham," You point out, "Got an apartment here and everything."

Interest sparks in his eyes, "Yeah? You're staying around here?"

You hum noncommittally, "In Gotham at least."

It surprises you, how easy it is to slip back into a flowing conversation with him. You reminisce about your shared past, he asks you what you've been up to, how your life has been, and before you know it, your drinks are empty and the bar is informing you of it's last call.

"Can I walk you home," Jason asks, hovering at your side, "or call you a ride?"

Your friends had long since told you they were leaving, and you have the urge to make this night last a little longer. It may be selfish, to want to stay in sight of those eyes, but you let yourself be selfish, "Walk me home?"

The way his eyes sparkle tells you you made the right choice.

You really do mean for him just to walk you home. So you're not exactly sure how you ended up making out with your ex-boyfriend in a dirty alley way.

It makes your head spin, how his hands dig into your waist to tug you closer. How he chases your mouth every time you pull back to suck in a breath.

It's desperate, needy, and you want to keep your fingers curled into the cool leather of his jacket forever. Jason crowds your space, backing you towards the wall, he trails kisses down your jaw, occasionally nipping at your skin to leave pretty, bruised marks.

"Wait–" You start, digging your heels into the ground.

He pauses, and pulls back, "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't meant to–"

"No!" You practically shout, not wanting him to misunderstand, "it's just– the wall is dirty," You finish weakly.

He blinks, then grins at you, "Is that all you're worried about, doll? Just the wall?"

You nod, sheepish as you fidget with the zipper of his jacket.

He hums thoughtfully and kisses the crown of your head, "I got something for ya," he murmurs, tugging off his leather jacket.

Before you can ask what he's doing, he drapes the coat over your shoulders, and guides your arms through the sleeves, "There, better?"

"Better," You echo, much more willing to let him push you against the wall, to let him suck your pulse and press his hands under your clothes. The leather is soft, smells like him, and the bricks behind you don't even register as he presses against you.

You're both eager, both grasping at fabric and skin. Your eyes light up, when as you're licking a stripe up his neck, Jason tilts his head back and moans.

It's a noise you want to hear again, and when you take his ear between your teeth, you're rewarded with another sweet sound.

Neither of you waste any time to push aside the clothes you're wearing. Half-dressed and panting, you fumble with his belt in the empty alley. He doesn't hesitate to hike your leg over his hip, pressing sloppy kisses along your jaw.

"You're sure about this," Jason asks, lips hovering over the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck.

"Yeah," You breathe out, tangling a hand in his hair to steady yourself, "Are you?"

"Never been more sure of anything," he says firmly, and bites down on your skin as if to seal his words as fact.

He's hungry, as he captures your mouth with another passionate kiss, and you're just as desperate and wanting. Desire pools in your gut as you grind your hips into his, voice pitching into a whine, "Please?"

The neediness in your eyes when you look up at him nearly makes his knees buckle, "Fuck, yes, doll. Whatever you want."

He's not one to make you ask again, and shamelessly presses a finger to your cunt. "Look at you," he breathes out, slowly pumping one finger in and out, gathering your wetness, "You're dripping."

You don't bother choking back the whine that escapes your lungs, only grab his hair tighter when he adds a second finger, carefully working you open for him.

His eyes, your breath catches, when his eyes seem to darken, coveting every reaction you have, every expression that flits across your face.

"Feels good, doll'" he coaxes, scissoring his fingers. When all you manage is a hazy nod, he grins and adds a third finger, curling them as he presses deeper, "C'mon, you can use your words."

"Jason, yeah, feels good," You answer, breathless and full of desire. You squirm, bucking your hips into his hand in an attempt to get him to move faster, "but I want you."

He hums thoughtfully, and presses the palm of his hand to your clit, grinding into the sensitive flesh. When your eyes flutter and your body clenches around him, he coos in approval.

"Good," he says fondly, pressing a kiss to your lips before slowly pulling his fingers away. You almost pout at the loss, but the sight of him lewdly licking off the remnants of you in his hand more than makes up for it.

Your jaw may have dropped, and you may have looked a little more dumbfounded than you're willing to admit, but any embarrassment turns to excitement when he lines his cock up to your weeping pussy.

Neither of you looks away as he pushes into you, inch by delicious inch. It turns you into a whimpering, groaning mess as you sigh out his name, eyes half lidded.

“Yeah, pretty,” He prompts, voice a low rumble as he watches you. He can't pick which sight he likes better, the way your eyes flutter, or the way you're greedily taking in everything he has to give.

He can’t help the smug smirk that spreads over his face when you mewl out his name, clearly delighted at the effect he has on you. “There you go, Doll. Let me hear you say my name again," He coos, trailing his free hand over your thigh to find your clit again.

You're eager to chant his name again when he starts to shallowly thrust between your legs. He moans when you clamp down around his dick, and it spurs him to move faster.

Jason groans deeply as he feels your body react, his eyes darkening with desire as he pushes into you again. You both breathe out a sigh of relief and ecstasy when you take him to the base of his cock.

"Good. Doing so good, doll," he mumbles, using all his self-control to hold the pressure against your cervix for a few moments, letting you adjust, before pulling back slightly.

You tug a little at his hair, it's addicting, how full he makes you feel, how desperate you are for more, "You can move, want you to move."

He hums, and seems more interested in moving his mouth along your jaw, biting and sucking his way down your neck to leave marks on your skin. Jason sucks a prominent bruise onto your freshly bitten skin until it’s pretty and bruised and all his.

You groan, and it only encourages him to drag his hand from your folds and pinch your nipple between his fingers.

"Jason," You protest, rolling your hips to try and entice him to finally move.

“Mhm. You like the sound of my name, pretty? You wanna keep saying it while I make you feel good?” He murmurs, his voice low and rough and breathless against your skin.

He starts to roll your nipple between his fingers, pinching and kneading the sensitive peak.

"Jason, move'" You whine, almost desperate. His eyes lock on your eyes, and you're completely lost to him.

His thumb gives your nipple one last swipe before he settles his hand between your thighs again, eyes raking over your face like he wants to memorize the expression of pleasure that’s taking over at the moment, "There you go, it sounds so perfect when you say my name like that."

His other hand squeezes your thigh affectionately, and before you can protest again, he pulls halfway out, savoring how you twitch around him. You cry out in pure pleasure when he thrusts back into your heat.

He swallows your cries with a kiss, and starts to pick up his pace, steady and relentless.

You can only tip your head back and moan, as you drag your nails along his scalp, panting and trembling under his grip.

“So goddamn good,” Jason mutters, pressing himself as deep as he can go with every movement. He starts to ramble your name, driving his cock against the spot that makes you gasp over and over.

He's relentless, all consuming and you almost miss it when he murmurs against your throat, "Not your ex now, am I?"

You curse, and shudder around him, clawing at his shoulder. It doesn't make his pace falter, if anything it drives him to push a little more, to move a little fast, to test your limits.

You feel his pleased smile form against your skin when you start to chant his name, breathless and needy and so, so close to the edge.

"There ya go, come for me, doll," he encourages, and when you do, when you soak his cock and sob his name, he fucks you through your climax.

He ruts into your fluttering hole until his own hips stutter, his fingers dig into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, and he cums inside of you. He rides out both of your releases, fucking his spend back into you even as it starts to leak and drip down your thighs.

Jason presses his forehead to yours, going still against you, his eyes dart over your face as you both pant, sticky, sweaty, and messy. He grins at you when you blink at him with glassy eyes, "You look good like this. I could see it every day, and it still wouldn't be enough."

You're not exactly sure where he finds the energy to praise you, but it makes you tuck your face against his shoulder as you catch your breath.

He presses a kiss to the side of your head, "Gonna take you home and run you a bath. Then, we're gonna cuddle till you fall asleep and I'll make you breakfast in the morning. Sound good?"

You whine softly when he pulls out of you, already mourning the feeling of him inside you, but you manage to nod.

True to his word, Jason carries you home and draws you a bath. You fall asleep with him curled around you, and when you wake up, the sound of him cooking breakfast makes its way to the bedroom.

And if you entice him to bend you over the counter before you eat, letting the food go cold, or suggest you show him just how well you fit in his lap, that's none one's business but yours.

It shouldn't surprise you, if you do encourage him to find out what you taste like on his tongue, that Jason never really leaves. Sooner rather than later, he'll make sure any use of the word 'ex' disappears from your lips.

[godjustkys]

you asked me for this and it's an idea so—

wondering if we could see dean getting absolutely ruined in the backseat of his baby while he gets degraded for being so damn desperate that they had to pull over and into a field during the middle of the night while the radio is still playing or something, idfk and they have passionate sex in the backseat because dean's that much of a whore? (male reader obviously on top)

pretty please? 🙏

THEME: passionate car sex with a desperate dean.

CHARACTER: male reader x dean winchester

NOTE: i love writing dean to be an absolute mess. ALSO THANK YOU <3

idfk what im doing. WHY IS EVERYTHING I WRITE SO SHORT.

p.s. requests are always open!

WARNING: car sex,, degradation,, raw dogging it fr,, pet names,, light dacryphilia,, extremely pathetic dean,,

“ngh— don’t- jus’.. come on, fuck.” dean whined quietly, his back pressed to the car door's panel, head resting against the window. “what? no prep? I can’t fucking believe it..” you mused with a scoff, briefly glancing at the radio that was playing. “you are being such a slut right now,” you mumbled, pushing the tip of your cock inside of dean's hole, slowly. good thing you had a bit of lube on it, otherwise dean would’ve been writhing already. “taking my cock like this, in the back of Baby. in the middle of fucking nowhere, too,” you continuing berating him, even with a gentle voice. “you’re— mghh, shit..” dean cut himself off, resisting the urge to shy away as it was slightly uncomfortable. instead, he forced himself to push his hips down, groaning as he clenched around your length. “you’re the one who gave me a handjob, w—.. while I was driving.” he forced out, his hands gripping your biceps. “need I remind you that you’re the one who asked for it? begged for it, I should say.” you cleared up, pulling out slowly; though your tip caught on his rim.

with a harsh thrust forward, dean's stomach tensed. a whiny moan left his throat, eyebrows furrowing at the same time. you started to move slowly, unable to resist the urge to fuck him to the rhythm of the music playing; some early 2000’s upbeat song. dean tilted his head back as much as possible, gritting his teeth, his hands clenching around your arms. “that’s it, baby, yeah, keep takin’ my cock like this.” you breathed out, leaning down so your lips would be in line with dean's ear. “just like you were made for this, you desperate whore,” you mumbled softly, your lips grazing his earlobe. he squirmed slightly in response. you knew he was ticklish but still, it was fun. “i- i am n—” dean started with a strained voice, though you quickly cut him off. “don’t you try to deny it. i’m the one fucking you in the backseat of your car..” you trailed off just a bit, your mind reeling at the feeling of dean around you. it just always amazes you. “..in a stupid field.. all because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants.” you continued, now ignoring the beat of the music and slowing your pace to a deep, yet leisure one.

“mmm— i jus’— you know damn well it wasn’t like that—” dean explained with a pleading voice, bordering on whiny now. his thighs moved to wrap around your waist, squeezing slightly. “yeah?” you mumbled with a harsh thrust, bottoming out. your tip just grazed against his prostate and he was gone. dean gasped breathlessly, his back arching off of the seat a little. “with the way you’re moaning right now, i’d say this is what you’ve been thinking of all day.” you mumbled, pressing an opened mouth kiss to the side of his jaw. dean squirmed once again, letting out a small whimper as his hands slid up to hold onto your neck. “i mean, you didn’t.. fuck.. you didn’t even want to get prepped.” you spoke against his skin, your lips grazing his stubble. “you’re just that desperate for my cock, huh?” you cooed softly, kissing him tenderly. dean reciprocated, though he was late and his kiss was sloppy, extremely uncoordinated. you continued the deep thrusts, bit by bit increasing your pace. “oh— mghhh..” dean whined out, his blinking excessive and frequent. he kept you close, looking at you through his eyelashes, his eyes narrowly open.

“want me to fuck you good, hm? you can moan as loud as you want to, pretty, no one’ll hear you.” you spoke in a hushed tone, your eyes locked on his. suddenly, dean focused on the car rocking, creaking, every time you thrusted into him. he let out a soft, small whine, tilting his head back as much as he could, his mouth open in a little 'o' shape. his thighs trembled slightly, his chest heaving. “you’re a sight,” you murmured, shifting your hips to a more suitable angle. “quit—! it..” dean managed weakly, his eyes screwed shut. his fingers pressed to the nape of your neck, keeping you as close as you’d let him. you just grinned in response, your own hands on the soft flesh of his thighs, quickening your pace to a fast yet steady one. little “ah-ah-ah’s” left his open mouth each time you thrusted in, his body somewhat arched off of the seat. it was a matter of time until you drove deeper and deeper into him, abusing his prostate. dean’s moans got significantly louder, whinier, more high pitched. he started to writhe, his hands getting clammy, eyelashes fluttering. he was coming undone.

dean’s voice was breaking mid-moans more often than not. he even let out a squeal of all things. “you feel so fuckin’ good..” you moaned out, your voice low. dean’s hands shakily glided down your torso, his fingertips catching onto the material of your shirt. he was begging to feel your skin with no words, only actions. “hh-hah..shit.. shitshitshit, ah— nghnnn..” dean’s hips jerked as he clenched around you, his face scrunched so adorably. if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was in pain. your cock was unfathomably deep inside dean, he could feel it so well; every vein, every small ridge, everything. he was tight, no matter how many times you have done this, he was always impervious. just for you. your cock. one of your hands skimmed up, just over his v-line and his weeping dick, brushing your fingers across the happy trail. he was so, so fucking pretty. “g—gah- mothe���rr..fucker.” he grunted out, his voice strained, raspy. his fingers gripped your shirt and pulled you close, just as you noticed the tears on his lashes. your lips ghosted over his and you pulled your face away swiftly, causing dean to let out a pathetic whimper, chasing after your lips desperately. “mh, you’re close, aren’t you?” you teased, your digits wrapping around his cock, giving him slow experimental pumps. dean’s pupils were blown wide as he looked up at you, his gaze blurry. the sounds that were spilling from his mouth were filthy; slutty, downright whore-ish. he fit so snuggly around you, you just couldn’t help it. you had to ruin him.

dean inhaled sharply as he felt your hand around him and his hips jerked upwards, into your hand. pathetic, yes, but he didn’t care. “agh—! oh.. oh- oh fuck—” he spoke through gasps, his back slightly sliding downwards, the back of his head now resting against the door panel itself. he was about to cum; it was obvious. he started whispering your name like a prayer. you felt him twitch in your hand and contract around you. “make a mess like the whore that you are. c’mon baby.” you encouraged him sweetly, his thighs shaking relentlessly around your waist. you were close to your orgasm as well. who wouldn’t be with such a scene in front of them? “nnnhhh— ah- hahh..haah, hhnn—” he cut himself off with a choked mix of a whine and sob, his abdomen tensing as he finally came. you slowed your pace yet kept the depth the same, making it easier for dean to ride out his orgasm. he clenched around your cock time and time again as he heaved, even though he had a hard time inhaling oxygen. he was really out of breath. you came inside dean with no warning and he let out a high-pitched, extremely loud whimper, the feeling of that warm liquid pooling inside him making him very horny again. you glanced up, noticing the foggy windows. you took a moment to catch your breath. “again? really wanna make you moan your lungs out.” you mused nonchalantly, keeping your cock buried inside dean.

dean blinks up at you, his voice hoarse and small as he speaks. “y-yeah.. yeah again. fuck.. make me scream, don’t care. jus’ don’t stop.”

[ghostbsuter]

Very much inspired by this !!

—

Phantasm crashed into the side of a building, the rest of his team- the TeenTitans- stayed back. They were otherwise occupied, with the rest of the H.I.V.E. five attacking them.

They'd gotten a new member, one with a similar, nearly identical power set of their own new member.

Phantom.

Phantasm and Phantom, two mirror look alikes, they went absolutely feral whenever one was in sight. It was driving Robin mad, Beast Boy had joked about cloning but after they started to actually consider that option.

"Well, well, well." Phantom mocks, glowing green to Phantasm's red.

"Shut. The fuck. Up." Phantasm charges again, throwing the other into windows with a growl.

They kept bickering, hitting and injuring each other, until—

"Stop being so annoying!" Phantasm shouts, baring his fangs. Phantom, in return, stuck his tongue out.

"You're just jealous I got the Villain role!!"

At this point, their respective teams had called a draw and watched them fighting.

"You're a lousy villain!"

"I'm having the time of my life beating the shit out of you actually."

"I'm calling jazz."

At that, Phantom starts glaring. "I thought we agreed on not bringing this up to our sister?"

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time He Got Jealous Of His Twin Brother”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: brothers au, pure fluff, slight Yuuji x Reader but we all know who you’re really here for, Sukuna is down bad, narration is mostly from Sukuna’s POV

Word Count: 1.80k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna is a fucking geinus.

His plan is full proof. His brothers put him in charge of buying the tickets for some stupid ass movie Yuuji wants to go see, and you always write your work schedule down on the calendar taped to the fridge. Sure, yeah, maybe he had to call out sick for today because this was the only day that Choso had work and you didn’t, but now he knows that his plan will fall perfectly into place. Yuuji is already at the apartment, you’ll come downstairs eventually, and Yuuji will invite you to come to the movie in Choso’s place, making it look like a total coincidence and definitely not something he’s been meticulously planning all week.

Could he have just, I don’t know, asked you to go on a date with him? Of course not, that’s fucking ridiculous. This makes so much more sense.

I mean, you absolutely loved The Human Centipede, definitely weren’t covering your eyes in terror and disgust when he showed it to you, so it’s a no brainer that you’ll just adore Human Earthworm. Hah! What a fuckin’ joke, you’ll be dragging Sukuna out of the theatre within five minutes and begging him to take you out somewhere else without his annoying twin brother.

It’s perfect.

Him and Yuuji are lounging on opposite ends of the couch while Yuuji is going on and on about an Elden Ring boss he can’t beat. Sukuna has his boots propped up on the coffee table and his arms resting behind his head as he half listens to his brother, and more so keeps an ear out for your footsteps upstairs.

“I was gonna try and beat her without summons but she’s kicking my ass, how many tries did it take you?”

“One.”

“Ugh!” Yuuji flops backwards on the couch, grabbing a throw pillow and shoving it over his face, his defeated whines muffled through the plush cotton, “She’s so impossible!”

Footsteps, finally. As you walk into the living room Yuuji uncovers his face, and you stop dead in your tracks, pointing at him, and then his brother, back and forth a few times before rubbing your eyes.

“Holy shit, there’s two of you?”

Oh yeah, I never mentioned my family huh?

Sukuna just gives you a smug smirk, “Three, but the emo one couldn’t make it.”

Yuuji perks up, jolting upright on the couch and giving you a bright smile, “Hi! I’m the normal one!”

You pull a chair out from the kitchen table, plopping yourself down into the wooden seat, “I think I’m gonna faint.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Sukuna is… a fucking idiot.

He knew his brother had a bubbly personality and could get along with literally anyone, but how was he supposed to know that you two would hit it off so well? Yuuji is pulling out all the stops, holding the door open for you, offering to pay for your popcorn, god it’s like he’s trying to get on Sukuna’s nerves.

Granted, it’s not like Sukuna told him that he likes you, but I mean for fucks sake that’s his twin brother! Shouldn’t he have some sort of sixth sense for this kind of thing?

That pink haired fucker has you wrapped around his little finger, you’re looking at him with googly eyes and cheesing like it’s fucking picture day. Ridiculous. Why don’t you ever smile like that for him? He’s funny!

I’m never letting him in the apartment again.

The three of you walk up to the top row of the nearly empty theater, Sukuna making sure to sit right between you and Yuuji. Previews are rolling on the screen as Sukuna is trying his damndest to hide the scowl on his face, his large arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches the way the large screen reflects different colors into your eyes. He didn’t really think this far ahead, he’s got you next to him at the movies but… what now? He’s mentally kicking himself enough as it is for not considering his overly charismatic brother, and now he’s realizing that he doesn’t even know what his own intentions are.

Did he just want to take you somewhere? Is he trying to sleep with you? Does he want to be… romantic with you?

God, what has he become? He’s supposed to be the tough fucking scary guy and he’s not only getting shown up by his nerdy brother, but also getting nervous at the thought of making a move on you.

Yuuji flings popcorn in your direction, making you squeal out a giggle as it gently lands in your hair. Sukuna groans, hardly paying attention as he’s deep in thought, running his finger through your hair and flicking the popcorn away. He’s so consumed in his own head that he completely misses the blush that tints your cheeks at his tender touch.

Should I have even bothered with this? I feel like staying at the house would’ve been better at this point.

A piece of popcorn flies into his eye.

“Ugh,” This is so stupid, Sukuna rubs his eyelid with his thumb, “Watch it, brat.”

Yuuji tosses his hands up defensively and you giggle again, leaning over the armrest and placing your pointer finger on Sukuna’s cheek, tilting his face to turn towards you. Have your eyes always been that bright?

“Ooh, bullseye.” He can feel your breath fanning on his face, you’re so close, but just as abruptly as you leaned in, you lean back into your seat. God, he wants more than anything to tell you to come back, but the words wouldn’t be able to escape his lips if he tried. Unfortunately, all he manages to do is glare down at you and make you shift awkwardly under his gaze, mumbling out a quick apology.

Fuck. I think I scared them.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

From what you’ve been able to gather, this movie is weird. Is it horror or romance? You’ve been having trouble paying attention, far too distracted by Yuuji leaning over the very annoyed looking Sukuna to excitedly whisper tidbits about the movie to you. But every time you look over to Yuuji your eyes can’t help but wander to Sukuna’s profile, the flashing lights of the large screen illuminating his tattooed skin, his bottom lip tutting out to blow the loose strand of his pink hair resting on his brow out of his eyes-

Ah dammit, I’m doing it again.

You’re so confused. Sukuna has been giving you mixed signals all night, sweetly running his fingers through your hair one moment, then glowering at you like he wants you dead the next. He’s so unpredictable, and you’ve been so distracted by him all evening that you’ve hardly been able to pay any attention to poor Yuuji, giving him bright smiles and fake laughs while your mind is completely consumed with Sukuna.

He’s been so grumpy the entire evening, you’ve been feeling like he’s… disappointed? Is he mad his other brother couldn’t come? Is he mad that you took the emo one’s place? Would he rather somebody else have gone to the movie with him? It was Yuuji’s idea for you to tag along, so it’s safe to assume that if Sukuna wanted you here he would have just invited you, right?

But then every now and again his eyes flicker to you, watching. Why is he looking at you like that? With his gaze so uncharacteristically soft, scanning your face like he’s searching for something, from the corner of your eye you can catch him looking at your lips.

Is there something on my face?

You’re ripped from your thoughts as a blood curdling scream erupts from the speakers, making you jump in your seat. You catch the tiniest glimpse of a smirk creeping on the corner of Sukuna’s lips as he sits like a rock, completely unbothered as per usual. You gently kick his foot under the seat, and he presses his large boot onto the top of your sneaker, pinning your shoe under his and keeping your foot locked in place under the sole of his steel toe boot.

You cross your arms over your chest, letting out a frustrated huff at him that only makes his grin grow wider, his face still pointed towards the large screen as he flashes his canines at you. He props his elbow on the armrest between you, resting his chin on the ball of his palm as he peers down at you with a smug grin.

“You ready to get out of here yet?”

Cocky fucker, I swear he gets off on making me mad.

“No.” You snap back defensively.

Unbeknownst to you, his question was not rhetorical. But you’re in it now, determined to sit through this entire movie even if it kills you. You’re bothering him enough just by being here, the last thing you want to do is make him feel like he needs to leave.

His smirk shifts into a grimace as he taps his boot on top of your shoe. You slide your sneaker away but he loops his calf around yours and pulls your leg towards him, gently kicking your foot. If you didn’t know better you’d almost think he was… trying to play footsies with you? You’re not really sure what he’s trying to do, all you know is that he’s still leaning on the armrest between you and probably unintentionally pulling you closer by your leg.

Your arm brushes against his as you try to maneuver your elbow onto the armrest, quietly muttering to him “You’re hogging up all the space.”

He leans down slightly to whisper in your ear, “Tragic. Use the other one.”

You nudge his forearm with your elbow, “Just move your arm.”

He lets out a quiet “Tch” and raises his arm to rest over the back of your seat instead, “This better, brat?”

You nod your head as a blush creeps onto your cheeks, luckily hidden by the darkness in the room. When you relax back into your chair you can feel his arm pressing into the back of your neck and his fingers lightly graze against your shoulder. It feels… kinda comforting, you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to lean into his touch and your heart starts to pound at the thought.

You don’t dare to look at Sukuna, deciding to quietly enjoy the moment. Which is a real shame, because if you did look at him there’s a chance you’d catch the way he’s gnawing on his bottom lip with a face that looks almost as flustered as your own.

He might be enjoying this more than you are, and he might even be thinking that having to sit through this movie might not be so bad after all.

A/N: POV you and Sukuna are two idiots who are into each other but neither of you have the balls to do something about it. Also writing Sukuna’s POV for the narration was SO FUN!!! We love our delusional king who sees you god forbid smile at another person and immediately assumes you’re in love with them Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[aliesbienish]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could please write a Paul x reader where the reader is super pregnant and is hungry all the time and eats the most random stuff and the pack teases her about it until Paul puts his foot down and tells them to back off

Thank you! I’m really enjoying the study of wolves🤍

Hi lovely anon, thank you for this sweet request - I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do x

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Recipe for Pack

There was no doubt who this baby belonged to, even in the womb. Since a few months into your pregnancy you’d been insatiably hungry, snacking continuously. Paul had always been the same, of course his excuse was his shifting. Unfairly that meant he got super hearing and strength while you needed to pee constantly and had nausea that rudely didn’t limit itself to the morning. So constant eating wasn’t an issue, it was the cravings that were becoming a hassle.

Paul, being a secret softie, had tried to cater to your every whim. Whether it was chocolate covered zucchini’s or melted cheese topped ice cream, he kept the judgement to a minimum. However these odd cravings did often lead to late night trips to the nearest 24 hour store located in Forks, a forty minute round trip. One particularly bad evening had him chauffeuring you 70 miles at 3am to Port Angeles, purely for a a chocolate milkshake and fries that got dipped into it. It was a miracle the machine wasn't broken.

But while Paul was nothing but accomodating, it couldn't always be said for the rest of his pack mates. Eating a hot dog with raspberry jam caused Jared to make vomiting noises. Adding leftover mash potato to a smore prompted Quil to question whether you needed a visit to a psychologist. Even sweetheart Seth made a quip that your cravings seemed like ingredients to a witches potion. Which was probably fair, as you munched on a buttered bread covered with rosemary.

But one comment, made sitting around Emily and Sam's dinning table took it too far.

Sitting with what to you seemed like a delightful combination of peanut butter and hot sauce bagels topped with orange slices, it was enough to elicit a groan.

"This seems to be getting way beyond normal now. I'm beginning to wonder if you are actually having these cravings or if you just like to make everyone else uncomfortable!" Jacob declared jokingly, but with your out of control emotions it was enough to stop you mid bite and feel shame.

"Right? I think next she'll just eat straight from the trash, it's not like she is far off!" Laughed Quil, causing laughter around the table.

Your eyes watered as you choked out "I'm sorry,"

"No, don't you dare apologise." Paul stated, gently placing his hands on your shoulders. "It's these morons who have no right to be teasing you." Turning to address the pack he gave them a hard stare. "You are all being absolute dicks. She's trying to survive extreme changes to her body, something we should be particularly understanding about, but instead your being rude and judgemental. If you all don't get your shit together and start being supportive then I will absolutely see if beating some sense into you in wolf form will help the process,"

The next evening you were all once again sitting around the dining table. The pack, showing their support, were all eating your newest and rather tame craving - chocolate covered bacon.

Sam got everyones attention and raised his fork in a toast "To our newest pack member,". The rest of the pack raised their own cutlery and echoed the sentiment.

This time the tears in your eyes were from happiness.

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[clockwayswrites]

Danny in Metropolis, ch4 p1

aka: Kon is so gay and so gone for this disaster twink

masterpost no concrit/editing please. very headache, very sleepy, very hand hurty <3

For the first time since Kon had started bringing them for him, Danny wasn’t finishing his lunch. It was extra worrying because Danny hadn’t even touched the dried mango slices, which was one of his absolute favorite lunch time items. Kon hated himself a little for knowing that and noticing, but he did and had. He noticed a lot of little things about Danny.

That day Kon was noticing how pale Danny was, that the circle under his eyes were darker, that his eyes were a little glassy. All Kon could think of was that conversation were Clark had asked if Danny had been sick and a list: Gatorade, jello, broth, fake cherry flavoring.

With their other friends at the table, Kon couldn’t even ask about Danny if he was feeling sick. He was sure if he had tried that Danny would just laugh it off. He always tried to laugh things off. Which meant for the rest of the day that Kon just had to worry and notice.

Notice Danny growing more fatigued. Notice how he drooped. Notice the bit of blood crusted around Danny’s nose after he got back from the bathroom in last period.

Kon picked up Danny’s backpack when the bell rung and they stood to leave. Danny looked at him with furrowed brows, but Kon just slung it on his front and raised his chin with a jut. “I’m walking you home—mine or yours, whichever.”

Danny rolled his eyes, but even that motion didn’t have any heart in it. “Don’t want to be a bother.”

“For like the hundredth time, you’re not a bother. My parents love you and Jon can’t wait to bug you about more space facts.”

Danny blushed faintly and rubbed at the back of his neck. “They do not love me.”

“They love you,” Kon said confidently. “You’re a good influence on my or some shit. They think you’re all polite and adorable.”

Danny gave a little snort. “I am polite and adorable.”

Kon gave a little shrug, which was hindered by the two backpacks he had on. “Never said they were wrong.”

Danny sputtered at Kon’s easy response and blushed a little deeper.

“My place then? Lois is making walking tacos which is like, the one thing that she can reliably make and not mess up. I think it’s because it’s just adding taco seasoning to ground turkey. Oh, are you up for meat tonight? We can do chickpeas for you if you aren’t,” Kon said. As long as he kept talking he knew that Danny would just follow. It was a little underhanded, but Kon figured sometimes Danny needed that to take care of himself. “I talked to Jon’s little demon friend and he said that chickpeas were a really good substitution for meat a lot of times. But also there will be baked beans cause we always have those with walking tacos so maybe you don’t want anything else? Anyways, the option is there. Do you even like chickpeas?”

“Chickpeas is humus, yeah? I like them like that,” Danny said after a beat where he was clearly trying to catch up with Kon’s stream of words. “But what the hell are ‘walking tacos’?”

“Oh, ah, Frito salad? Taco bowl? Taco salad? Taco meat, beans, and cheese over lettuce and Fritos. M—Lois will have salsa and sour cream too,” Kon explained.

“Oh. Yeah, my old school used to do those for lunch sometimes. That seems like a weird thing to be good at making,” Danny pointed out.

“Lois says it’s because of the walking part, it’s good to eat on the road between stories,” Kon said. “Convince store food and things you can make in a hotel room are her specialties.”

Danny chuckled at that (the first laugh Kon had heard from him that day). “That’s almost hard to believe. She seems so…big.”

“Big?”

"Danny shrugged. “Larger than life. Big city. Powerful. She’s a whirlwind, like you are.”

Kon blinked. “You think I’m a whirlwind?”

“Yep,” Danny said, popping the P. “I mean, like, where even are we? I don’t know how we got here, I was just caught up in whirlwind Conner.”

Kon snorted. “We’re taking a short cut back to my place so I can make you take a damn nap.”

“Nap. A nap sounds really good,” Danny said dreamily.

[artstennisracket]

request: please I’m begging you write more parts to the Patrick Zweig Coach fucking his much younger client I’m dying that was too good

tennis coach!Patrick x fem reader, part 1

cw: nsfw (18+), d/s overtones tbh, dom!patrick, dirty talk, minimal use of daddy kink (reader says it once), not proofread

You were sore for that next week of practice. Getting fucked by a tennis racket handle wasn’t on your bucket list but you’re not particularly mad at it either.

You thought the dynamic would change between you and your coach but it’s like he went right back to ignoring you.

It wasn’t until Wednesday’s practice when you were preparing for a tournament you had this weekend.

You were genuinely out of it. You were going to be versing Anna Mueller and she’s currently ranked number 4 for women’s juniors. Sometimes you got in your head about things even if you knew how good you were.

During your serve drills Patrick could tell you were off. By the time you got to scrimmaging you weren’t giving it your all to beat him like you usually would.

On your next rally Patrick catches the ball instead of returning your serve. He walks to middle meeting you at the net, “You’re not fucking with me right? What’s going on?”

You sigh, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the cardigan tied around your shoulders, “No I’m not I just- I keep thinking about the tournament this weekend.”

He gives you a tight lipped smile, pushing his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head, “There’s nothing for you to worry about. Anna Mueller is all show, no real skill. And she’s a racist bitch, you’ll beat her into the ground without even trying.”

You let out a chuckle at that statement, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to make me feel better or light a fire under my ass,” I mean who doesn’t want to beat their opponents, especially the racist ones.

He smirks, “Why can’t it be both?,” He takes a step closer, the net still in between you two. You instinctively take a step closer just to be in his personal space. He bites his lip quickly, you can tell he’s thinking. He leans over to whisper in your ear, “And I said if you were good this weekend, I’d give you what you want.”

The smell of cigarettes fills your senses. A smell you usually hate but for some reason it just works for him. You let your eyes slip close momentarily to imagine what your first time with Patrick would be like because jesus fuck—

“We don’t have all day L/N, let’s go,” He calls out from his place on the other side of the court. Shit, how long were you standing there with your eyes closed?

You half jog back to your side of the court and take your cardigan off. When did it get so hot?

You turn quickly to look at him again, only to see him quickly push his sunglasses back down and clear his throat. Oh he was totally staring.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Ready Zweig?” You call out right before you serve an ace.

…

The tournament had just finished and you absolutely crushed Anna Mueller. You tanked in the first set but came back and won the last two by a good margin. You were so zoned in you didn’t even notice when Patrick had moved his tennis bag to his lap to cover up his problem.

You were so hyped at the end, you felt like it was the best tennis you’ve ever played. Not to mention the points you’d win from this to boost your own rank.

You looked around the stands for Patrick but he was nowhere to be found. You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion but you’re sure you’ll see him later. Your parents had covered two hotel rooms for you both for the weekend.

You made your way back to the hotel so you could take a shower and change. Once you finished there was a knock on your door.

You opened it to find Patrick leaning against the door frame with a CVS bag in his hand. You took a second to take him in. Curls damp, like he just took a shower. You were able to actually look in his eyes for longer than a millisecond (since he’s always wearing sunglasses) and they were beautiful. A mashup of light hazel and green. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans that stretched over his long legs. And he was only wearing socks? No shoes.

“You gonna let me in or you wanna keep checking me out?” He smirks. You move to the side so he can walk inside.

You close the door as he takes a seat on the bed after placing the CVS bag on the night stand.

“Where’d you go? After my match.” You ask sitting next to him so your thighs are touching.

He shifts so he can face you, “Had to get some stuff, take a shower,” He gestures to the bag on the nightstand.

“You didn’t even see if I won or not, and what did you just have to get from CVS?” You ask. To be honest you’re not even really paying attention, just enjoying being this close in his personal space. Maintaining eye contact so you can fully drink in this dreamlike experience.

“Just condoms,” He’s says so causally like it’s toothpaste or something.

You scrunch your eyebrows together, “Don’t they sell that at the little hotel store downstairs?”

He smirks again, “And how would you know that?”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, “I just wanted to check I guess. And you never answered my questions.”

He shrugs, “I already knew you were gonna win and downstairs they didn’t have magnum.” He says so casually AGAIN. Fuck.

He sees the “oh fuck” realization on your face so he has to ask, “You’re not a virgin right?”

You shake your head no. Quite the opposite actually but he just made you nervous for some reason.

He moves his hand to rest on the back of your neck, his thumb resting just above your ear, “What happened to the confident little brat who made me fuck her with a racket huh?”

Fuck. You move forward to crash your lips together, you’ve been waiting for this for too long to get nervous now.

He kisses you back and it’s almost bruising. Tongue, lips, and exchanging spit. It’s filthy. He pulls you back before he says, “On your knees.”

You followed that command quicker than the speed of your serves. He chuckles softly and you look up at him, hoping this time you’d get what you want and not a tennis racket.

He stands up so your face to face with his clothed bulge. You can feel your mouth start to water subconsciously. He unzips his jeans, pulling them down until they fall at his ankles. Now he was just stood in front of you in his boxer briefs and a much more prominent bulge.

You felt some need to prove to yourself so you start to mouth at his bulge through his underwear.

“Fuck, woah slow down. Did I say you could do that?” He groans while grabbing your hair and pulling you off.

“No but I just—“

“I thought you said you were gonna be good? You were good this whole week, don't mess it up now.”

“Okay I’m sorr—“

“First rule is you only speak if I say so okay? Or if I ask you a question. Got it?”

You nod before you realize he just asked you a question. You rush out, “Yes yep got it.”

He smiles, “You’ve always been a pretty quick learner.” He moves his hand from your hair back to his own underwear. He pulls them down slowly, letting his hard length spring free and fuck. You knew he was big but this was a lot.

He continues, “Now, I’m gonna let you suck my cock but don’t try to be too ambitious. If I want you to take more, you’ll know. And if you need me to stop for any reason just pinch me.”

You nod staying in your place on your knees. He grips the base of his cock, rubbing his tip along your lips. You want so badly to open your mouth, lick the tip with your tongue. But you can’t, not yet.

“You can open.”

Before he even finishes that statement your mouth is open and you’re sucking on the tip. Little kitten licks in between. You refrain from trying to swallow him down because you haven’t been instructed to yet.

He moves his hand back to your hair, pushing you further down. You choke a little, but try to keep calm so your gag reflex doesn’t act up.

He lets out a low groan as he keeps pushing in, “Fuck,” and then he pulls out almost all the way before he presses back in.

This time you try to suck to the best of ur ability. Making a mess, spit building up in your mouth, covering his cock, drooling out of the sides of your mouth. You still haven’t taken it all but you bob your head up and down, covering the expanse of his cock that he’s allowed you to take.

The wet sounds of you choking, gasping, and breathing hard around his dick filling the room. Soon he pulls all the way out letting out an exasperated, “Fuck babe, gotta prep you now. Get up.”

You stand up, knees feeling sore from the roughness of the hotel carpet.

“Take off your clothes and lay down on your back.” He says, stroking his cock aimlessly, waiting for you to lay down.

This is the fastest you’ve ever taken your clothes off, record speed. You get into position, laying down on your back. A few pillows behind you so your back is elevated. He lays down on his stomach between your legs, his long legs hanging off the side of the bed.

He lets his finger run down the middle of your folds, gently grazing your clit, before he pushes into your hole.

“You’re so wet already, maybe I didn’t have to prep you,” He says before adding a second finger, pumping in and out of your slick hole.

He picks up the pace and you are a moaning mess. Moaning, whining, and whimpering just from his fingers as he keeps pressing against the right spot.

“Does that feel good baby?” He asks before he inserts a third, curling his fingers inside you now.

You nod before you remember that you have to answer verbally, “Yes please more, feels so good.”

He speeds up his pace, assaulting the soft spongy spot inside of you until you feel something build up in your stomach. He keeps eye contact with you, biting his lip as he watches the pleasure take over your face.

“Ah, ah, ah—Patrick wait I- fuck” You say in a high pitched whine as a rush of liquid gushes out of you, squirting all over his fingers.

Patrick pulls his fingers out, “Knew you had it in you,” he smirks moving up on the bed to capture your lips in another kiss.

This kiss is slow, like he’s taking his time to explore your mouth with his tongue. He bites your lip as he pulls away from the kiss, “Good?”

You nod definitely a little out of it. “Yeah,” you reply, your volume barely above a whisper.

“Still wanna keep going?” He asks, pushing your hair back behind your ear.

You nod, biting your lip as you smile, “Duh. Didn’t get what I want yet.”

He scoffs playfully, “I could argue that you did.” He grabs the CVS bag and opens the box of condoms, taking one out. “Would you like to do the honors?”

You nod again, sitting up on your knees and opening the wrapper. He strokes himself a few times to get himself back to full hardness before you roll on the condom.

He moves you to lay down on the other (dry) side of the bed and lines up with your entrance. He drags his tip along the center of your folds, teasing your hole, “Sure this is what you really want?”

You let out a huff, “Yes Patrick, how many times do I have to tell—shit“ Your cut off as he pushes inside of you.

He looks up at you as he bottoms out, “You still good?” He grunts out.

“Stop treating me like a baby, I can take it,” You gasp out. It really is a lot. You feel ridiculously full. Almost comparable to the tennis racket. “You literally fucked me with tennis racket.”

“Ungrateful as always,” He shakes his head before he pulls out. You whine at the loss before he flips you over so your face down ass up.

“You were good all week, now you wanna be an ungrateful slut,” he tsks before slamming into you without warning.

“Oh fuck,” You basically scream out at the abrupt intrusion. He grabs both your wrists, holding them behind your back, before he really starts fucking into you.

He grunts out, “I was trying to be nice but you keep testing me, fuck you feel so good.”

He continues holding both your wrists in one of his massive hands while the other hand grabs your hair. Pulling you up so he can whisper in your ear, “So you’re gonna take whatever I decide to fucking give you, got it?”

You let out a whimper from how overwhelmed with pleasure you feel, “Yes fuck I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He smirks, “Too late for that.” He lets go of your hair letting you fall back into position. He grips your hips and starts pounding into you. Each thrust more bruising than the last. Hard and fast. It feels like you’re gonna break.

You go from leaning into the thrusts pushing yourself back against him, to almost trying to pull away. Not because you weren’t enjoying it but because your g-spot was starting to get overstimulated, it was starting to feel too good.

“Fuck baby, can’t run away now. This is what you asked for right? What you’ve been drooling over for the past two years huh? Bet you used to touch yourself thinking about this right?”

You can’t even think straight enough to realize he’s asking a question. It’s not until he comes to a halt to say, “I asked you a fucking question.”

Now that he’s still inside you, your brain finally processes what he said. “Yes fuck, Patrick I— yes, I did, I did. Please don’t stop please,” You whine.

He picks up his pace again as tears start to fall down your face. He can hear your sniffling mixed in with your moans, “Aw baby, are you crying? Does it feel too good?”

You nod. Your face smushed against the pillow that’s catching your fallen tears. You let out a weak, “Yes daddy,” and you don’t even realize what you just said, too fucked out to register.

“Shit why would you��� fuck,” His hips stutter, “Christ you’re so fucking—fuck baby you’re gonna be the end of me.”

“Please please, so close,” You whimper. You can feel yourself on the edge until-

“Cum for me baby, want you to finish all over my cock, this what you’ve wanted for two years right? Show me how much you needed it.”

And that’s all it takes. You feel that sudden rush again before you squirt all over Patrick’s dick. He curses under his breath pulling all the way out in between thrusts to fully see it. That image is enough to have him spilling inside the condom, his thrusts stilling.

He pulls out slowly, taking the condom off and throwing it away. He grabs a small hand towel from the bathroom and comes back to you on the bed half asleep.

“I figured you’d be too tired to shower but are you sure you wanna sleep here? My room’s right next to yours and my bed isn’t…yeah.”

You nod sleepily, “‘Mkay, there’s a connecting door I think?” You lazily gesture to the door in the middle of the wall.

“Oh that’s…convenient.” He pulls on his jeans haphazardly, taking out his key card. He leaves your room, leaving the deadbolt on to hold the door cracked open, and you hear some shuffling outside. You assume he’s unlocked the connecting door on his side.

He comes back to your room, unlocking the door on your side, revealing direct access to Patrick’s room. He picks you up with ease, probably from all those years of tennis, and sets you down in the middle of his bed.

It’s chillier in his room. Probably has the AC blasting, so you curl in on yourself trying to get comfortable enough to sleep again.

He makes his way over to the thermostat to turn up the temperature a little. Then he takes a beat before he decides to cover you with the comforter, tucking you in.

“Better?” He asks as he lays next to you, on top of the comforter because he’s still hot.

“Better,” You mumble back before you fall asleep

[quarterlifekitty]

Something, something, König picking up gaming in his free time, not uncommon for an older guy especially with a cute little thing who has a nice set up for gaming and he absolutely takes to it with flying colours. Kinda pissing you off how he’s gotten leagues better than you at one of your favourites in such a short amount of time. So when that skin you absolutely NEED drops you’re going insane grinding for it. It’s frustrating too because all the sweats have come out of the woodwork to grind for it too, leading to a lot of swearing and groaning on your end, coincidentally, König’s free time aligns and he’s more than happy to help you grind the tougher parts if you sit pretty on his lap and drain his pent cock.

What’s better than two stress relievers when he comes home from a high tension workplace environment?

(Bonus points if he’s your weird online long distance boyfriend who definitely told you an age younger than what’s on his ID and the place he comes home to is just your apartment that he decided was his too.)

Brother. The way this ask is in my mind. I would like to preface this by saying if you or a loved one is playing a video game with microtransactions and limited edition skin drops it’s not too late to get help. We can beat this together.

cw: he’s kind of a creep in this. Red flags abound. Somno/dubcon type stuff

Gonna make a couple of amendments to this one if that’s ok. 1) König is never going to be a god gamer because his hands are too fucking big and also I WANNA BE THE DOMINANT GAMER IN THE RELATIONSHIP. My ass is carrying HIM in apex. I don’t care that he knows how to shoot real guns. Don’t take this away from me

2) while he didn’t outright lie about his age, he did not say shit that would lead you to believe this man was over 40. He shared very few details about his personal life. Just that he was in the military, Austrian, and now? A gamer. Those are all the hallmarks of being a man in his 20s! Except the Austrian thing— that can happen to anyone.

I like to imagine he treats you like his discord kitten tho. You ask how old he is and he’s like “I’m an adult, if that’s what you’re worried about” or “old enough” or “don’t worry about it” and you say “okay 💖 yay 💖”

And he’s 100% your sugar daddy. Constantly buying you games just so you can co-op with him, gifting you in-game currency to spend on battle passes, absolutely ravaging your wishlist— steam, amazon, or otherwise.

He finds himself in your area for work and you tell him your address so he can meet up with you.

And you’re kind of a stupid femcel so when this dude shows up at your door, almost seven feet tall and wearing a surgical mask, scarred face with a healthy grey streak in his hair, it’s not setting off any alarm bells. There’s like at least 5 red flags here but you’re colorblind and inviting him in.

You didn’t realize that he was planning on staying with you while he was in the area. You also didn’t realize that the moment he found out he’d be stationed near you, he decided it was time to take your relationship to the next level.

Which is how you end up stretched out on his cock on the same day that you met in person for the first time, with him grunting in your ear about how he dreamed of this— thought of it every time he jerked off when you fell asleep during a discord call. He could tell just from your voice that you’d be pretty and soft and tight and perfect for him— and he was ready to settle down.

Good thing you didn’t really have any plans for the rest of your life, or you might find how fast he moves a little scary.

So it makes sense that you’re still a little shy. Too nervous to initiate things usually. So he just has to motivate you a little.

This skin’s an exclusive, can’t be earned with currency, and available as a drop for just 7 days. You can’t put in the hours to get it on your own, not to mention how tedious it is, and it can’t be bought. But it’s so cute.

So he makes the offer. He’ll spend his precious leave time helping you earn it if you keep his cock warm while he does it. He’d initially planned on using that time to rearrange your guts, so you’re gonna have to make it worth his while.

And maybe you exaggerate a little. You’re used to saying these things over calls— where nothing has any repercussions in the real world. Where you can promise anything from the safety of being on a screen a world away.

You tell him you’ll let him do whatever he wants to you if he can get that skin for you. After a moment you realize the implications of saying that to someone who can and will hold you down and make out with your cervix using the tip of his cock.

He borrows one of your elastics to tie back his hair.

He’s gonna get you that skin. And then he’s gonna get you pregnant.

You did say anything.

[foli-vora]

devil in the night

matt murdock x f!reader

A/N: i should be asleep but lmao, here we are. the brain just went 'matt sneaking into your room and eating you out while you're asleep' and i flung the blankets away and reached for my laptop like 'yes i understand completely'. it's been a while since i've written for matty and i have missed him immensely. enjoy angels! x

Word count: 700ish i think idk

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY - somnophilia, oral (f rec), overstimulation, matty being a hungry hungry boi, helmet stays on coz i like that shit

Your window is unlocked. Of course it is. It gives way under his gentle push until he’s able to creep through, the cool night breeze following him in and rustling your light drapes.

The slow, steady breaths that fill the room tell him you’re asleep, long lost to dreams with absolutely no awareness that he lurks in the shadows of your bedroom and his heart beats harder, thrumming strongly within his chest until he feels the heavy pulse of it in his head. He follows the breaths, chases the familiar scent of you until he can feel you close, the heat of your body stinging at his skin.

The mattress gives way under his knees and his hands reach to seek you out, following the form of your legs underneath the blankets until he feels the edge of them tucked loosely around your waist. He pulls at them softly, listening to the slide of cotton drag over your body until you’re bared to the room and he’s able to feel you properly.

Gloves run over bare skin and he can’t help the smirk that tugs at his lips. Did you anticipate his arrival? Did you sink into your pillows and think about this very moment? Did you work yourself up thinking about the heat of his mouth?

He hardens to the point of pain at the thought.

His hands part your thighs easily, careful not to jostle you as he settles onto his stomach and makes himself at home between your legs—his favourite place to be. You barely move, so deep in a slumber he doubts you’d notice much of anything at this point.

The smooth surface of his helmet rests against the heat of your thigh as he takes a moment to breathe you in, letting the scent of your pussy settle heavy on his tongue until the vicious tug of his appetite can’t take it for a second longer.

It’s been too damn long. He’ll ask for forgiveness later. 

He’s soft about it.

There’s no rush—he has the rest of the night and he’s not moving until he’s sure he’ll have the taste of you clinging to his skin for the rest of the day.

His tongue drags leisurely over you, feeling the gentle parting of your folds under muscle until the sweet tang of your arousal sinks richly into his taste buds and he has to harshly fist the sheets to keep from groaning.

This is what he needs.

He finds your clit, softly circling it over and over until your scent in the room thickens and it’s all he knows, all he can breathe. He moves to lap at the wetness gathering at your entrance, unable to resist pressing impossibly closer to you, licking deeply, hungrily into your cunt until you’re flooding his tongue and smearing across his chin.

You’ll soon feel the burn of his stubble as he works you over more and more.

He goes back and forth, taking his time building your arousal up by lavishing your clit with soft laps and gentle strokes before practically drinking from you, tongue prodding and dragging against the slick walls of your pussy. He’s lost track of time, oblivious to anything and everything beyond this room, beyond you, by the time you begin to stir.

Your heart flutters, your breath catches and then you’re seeking him out, a hand soon meeting one of the sharp points of his helmet before your fingers stretch over the chilled back of it. You’re almost there—he can feel it, hear it, taste it.

He keeps his pace steady, feeling no need to rush you to the finish line as his tongue swirls and circles and flattens over your clit again and again.

A sleepy moan of his name falls from your lips when you reach your peak and he can’t help but rut into the firm mattress as you flood his tongue, the muscles in your thighs jumping and jerking beneath his hold.

“Shh,” he coos quietly against you when you start to pull away from his mouth, cunt sensitive and overworked. He's not done, not yet. “Let me enjoy you, sweetheart. I need it, please.”

[edenspoem]

Um so wolves go into heat around winter an it got me thinking. Werewolf!ellie in heat absolutely RAILING reader

Im talking absolutely DESTROYING reader

She turn up at the door like "scissor tongitj?? Scissor tonight queen??? ✂️✂️"

♱|. . a/n: i'm supposed to be writing vampire smut.. but here we are! just need to get something out even if it's shitty (i'm also just sick and dgaf about perfectly writing a blurb).. i've also been listening to juno a lot so all i can think about is BREEDING. mdni.

werewolf!ellie panting at the corner of your cracked door—dark, ripped jeans, a crucible of sweat that clumps hairs to her forehead, shine to her skin—and she rushes a near nothing from her lips before the desperation could crawl out and eat you whole. if she quietened her own heart, she could catch yours pounding. “hey babe, fuckin' missed you. c'mere.” each syllable is accompanied by gusts of her gutsy—and almost visible to the cold—breath. its scent and heat bled through quickly. it poured over, into, and under her swooping fingertips, which had the back of your head snared and pulled into her mouth, eating your response with a whine she never intended to release.

the nature of your girlfriend isn't occultic to you; she drags you into her midnight realm and makes you feel like the worshipped moon. at this point, your brain tends to forget that she's even a werewolf to begin with, and eases in the penchant way she has with you: chasing you, loving hard, owning handfuls of your flesh that she lets spill and manipulate her senses. but, in the epicenter of this brutal winter—your first one together—you least expect a shirt to be shredded from your torso in one, hungry rip, tossed like ribbons on the floor and abandoned as you licked the nectary words dripping off her tongue. “wanna have a fuckin' baby with you.. ahah—shit, can i give you one?” she stumbled in giggles, so sweetly, and fumbled so pitifully with the rest of your clothes, you had to assist before something else was torn.

yeah, she can wear you out giving you 'one' any fuckin' day.

“miss me?” ellie clings, with nails that long to be sharp, into the small of your back. deep enough to bleed. it stung with a soft whimper inside your chest, “mhh—yes, ellie.” teeth collecting the sighed words from your lower lip.

she would rub her pussy against yours until it was throbbing raw, and her hips gave out. it did most times; from the wanton, the sheer letch to let loose, to give you something special—but if you whispered into a safekeeping, it would be about how she lets her hormones get the best of her. more so when your touch is involved. when your tired fingers trace the bushed mess that leads up her stomach in a thin, waning tornado-line, wrap your hand around and soothe her pelvis with pressure—she loses it.

“can't handle it at all, huh?” you pant, smiling at the fucked-out, glistening and red look on her face. her scarred brows tighten when your sticky thighs come into contact with an audible slap. it's her juices that coat you. “poor thing.”

ellie cups her own tit and rolls deeper into her straddle, you're not even sure she heard you; too lost in that midnight realm. but, if you're being honest, you're the one that can't handle it. human endurance has you beat for miles—she has to place your limp leg on her shoulder. “f-fuck..” she trembles. soon enough, the hairs covering her cunt are shining wet with her cum, and she can only hope that it takes. “thats it.. oh my god..” she leans into her nape, voice vibrating deep and hoarse in her chest. she looked like golden heaven, with her head hanging like that. though, her stamina will be the death of you: she lifts her head and starts hovering over you for more, hot breaths that felt cold in your used state fanning over your cheek. “gonna be a goddamn mama, babe. got more in me—if ya' wanna go again, hm?”

[matt-murdockk]

Short Circuit

pairing: connor (rk800) x reader words: 1k summary: reader sees Connor outside of work for the first time in normal human clothes and dies a little bit (comedy, fluff) warnings: language, lack of proofreading, fic from reader's pov a/n: let's pretend this is after the good ending and androids can own property now cause we're going to Connor's place etc

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

Words cannot describe the amount of hate I have for Fowler. On my day off he asks me to take some evidence over to Connor for a 'quick analysis', like, Jesus Christ dude wait for the labwork like the rest of us. The nerve of this guy, honestly. Anyway, if you were wondering why I was driving to Connor's place first thing on a Sunday, that was it.

Yes, I hate my boss, how original, but I would never pass up an opportunity to see Connor. Sure, he's my colleague, but he's also my friend. And also I may be in love with him have a normal, tiny, minuscule crush on him. I don't know how it happened, I didn't even realize it, but yes, I do, in fact, have feelings for Connor. "Oh but he's an andro-" Go fuck yourself, he's more human than most people these days.

Before I realized it, I was at his place and almost knocked on his door. Almost being the keyword here, because I heard a voice from the inside.

"Detective! Just a minute. I will be right there."

"Holy shit, how did you know? Let me guess, X-ray vision?" It's always something with him. Of course, Cyberlife's most intelligent android comes with X-ray vision. I feel stupid for not guessing right away. Wait, does this mean he had X-ray vision all this time? That feels like an ethical grey area. Is that allowed? My rapid descent down that rabbit hole was interrupted by the sound of the door being unlocked.

"Ring Camera. Come on in!" He led me inside and I absent-mindedly followed him before I noticed it. He was wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants. Connor Anderson (legal name, yes), android detective by day, who famously only wore suits, was standing in front of me, in goddamn sweats. And he looked like he stepped right out of my dreams.

I did not know it was possible to be any level of attractive in fucking pajamas, but oh my god, it absolutely was. He looked hot as hell. I don't know if it was from having only seen him in formals, or the fact that Kamski knowingly made a hottie, but I was reveling in this sight.

His T-shirt fit him exactly as it should have, and his sleeves stopped halfway through the biceps I didn't even know he had. His hair looked unkempt and tousled, which was questionable because there's no way he slept, right? I was very sure he could hear my heartbeat because that sucker was betraying me and beating way too fast.

I could not form coherent thoughts for another full minute or so. I am not even holding back, he genuinely looked so attractive he quite literally stole my breath away. All I could do was mumble nonsense while staring at him like I misplaced my glasses.

"Detective, are you alright?"

"What? Me? Yeah, no problem, bud." Bud???? I'd have slapped myself if I could.

"Your body temperature is rapidly rising and your heart is displaying signs of arrhythmia. I suggest we-"

"I suggest we nothing, Connor. I promise I'm fine." See that kids, right there, is what we call a bald-faced lie.

"If you say so. What brings you here, detective?"

"Detective? Come on, we're not at work, man. Chill."

"Alright then, (Y/n), what brings you here?" (Y/n). The way he said my name made me want to explode. Sure, everyone says my name, its my name but oh my god, when he says it, he makes me want to change my last name to his. Which would be Hank's. Huh. That's weird.

"Right, yeah, work stuff. Fowler sent me with evidence for you to analyze. Apparently, they can't wait for the lab like the rest of us mortals." I shoved the file into his hands a little too quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice how my hands were shaking. He noticed.

"Your hands are trembling." Of course he noticed. Connor notices everything.

"I'm just… cold," I lied, despite standing in his very well-heated apartment.

Connor tilted his head slightly, that signature analytical look of his making me want to crawl under a rock. "You appear to be experiencing stress. Should I—"

"Connor, no. I don't need an analysis, I need to… sit down." That was the best I could come up with. Great. Very smooth.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," he said, gesturing toward his couch. I moved to sit down, hoping a change of scenery would calm my nerves. It didn’t.

Connor sat across from me, still in those damn sweatpants, his expression unreadable as he opened the file and started flipping through its contents. His focus should’ve made me feel at ease- it was just Connor being Connor- but instead, I found myself staring at his hands. They were annoyingly perfect, like the rest of him, and I couldn’t stop imagining what it would feel like if he- nope. No. Abort mission.

"Is something wrong with the file?" he asked suddenly, looking up.

"What? No! The file's fine. Great file. Top-tier evidence. You're gonna love it." Jesus Christ, someone take my mouth away.

Connor raised an eyebrow. "You’re behaving… unusually."

"I’m behaving perfectly normal," I said, crossing my arms in what I hoped was a casual way but probably looked defensive. "Maybe you're the one behaving unusually. I mean, sweatpants? Who are you and what have you done with Connor?"

He blinked, then looked down at himself as if realizing for the first time what he was wearing. "Hank suggested I try some human rituals like pajamas and sleep to better accommodate my deviancy. He claims it’s a key aspect of ‘human relaxation.’ Was this choice inappropriate?"

"No!" I said, a little too quickly. "No, you look—" amazing, perfect, hotter than anyone has a right to look "—fine. You look fine."

Connor studied me for a moment, and I swear I saw the faintest flicker of amusement cross his face. Was he… smirking? Oh no. Oh no, he knew.

"You should consider it," he said, casually returning to the file.

"Consider what?"

"Relaxing. You seem… tense."

And just like that, the ball was back in his court. I was flustered, he was composed, and I was left wondering how I was supposed to get through the rest of this visit without making a complete fool of myself.

Spoiler alert: I didn’t.

a/n: y'all, this is my first time writing dbh, sorry if it sucks T_T

[jisungiesvzz]

Omggg hiii I absolutely love ur writing xx can I please write one where reader and han are best friend and have been sneaking around for a while and when ur both in the bathroom skz come and catch u both and if ur not taking requests that's fine too but take ur time ❤️❤️

Fess Up

Idol!Han x fem! reader

Warnings: fluff, angst? (if you squint), kissing/making out, getting caught

Words Count: 1.5k (a little over)

Authors Note: I do not like how I wrote this one + the ending is mid. I feel like all my writing is the same but I hope this delivered well. Please let me know if I missed any warnings. Enjoy! :)

—

The practice room had finally emptied out after another grueling dance session. Everyone had filed out, heading back to the dorms to rest up for the night — everyone except you and Han. This had become your routine over the past few months: waiting until everyone left so you could be alone together.

You were shuffling through your bag on the back counter, searching for something you didn't know existed when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Lips grazed against your neck, placing soft kisses down to your shoulder, your body slightly tensing at the contact.

"Is everyone gone…?" you whispered.

"Mhm," Han hummed absentmindedly, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His kisses grew more urgent, sucking your skin softly as his grip on your waist tightened.

"H-Hannie, I'm serious. We can't get— ahh," you were cut off when he sucked harshly on the soft spot just below your ear, your hands flying forward to grasp the counter. He ground his hips into yours, your back arching slightly as he pushed you further into the counter.

"Relax, jagiya," he murmured, his fingers running just below your waistband, heat rushing through your core.

Just when he was about to take it a step further, his phone buzzed, the tension between you slowly dissolving.

"Fuck… of course." You softly whimpered when he reluctantly pulled away from you, just enough to reach out and grab his phone. Still feeling needy, you lightly grinded back against him, "Who is it?"

Mumbling a quiet 'oh no', he slowly backed off of you, hand resting at the small of your back. You turned to look at him in confusion, eyes locking with his widened ones.

"Chan just texted the group. They're heading back to grab something Changbin forgot."

The building was mostly empty at this hour, but you couldn't risk being seen together like this. The company had been clear that Han needed to focus on the upcoming comeback without distractions. And you were one hell of a distraction.

"Shit, they can't see us here."

"I know," Han ran his hands through his hair, clearly struggling with inner turmoil. He froze suddenly, his eyes lit up and you swore you saw an imaginary light bulb pop up above his head.

"Uh, the bathroom on the third floor," Han said urgently. "No one ever uses that one this late."

"Uh, the bathroom— are you sure?"

"Got any better ideas?"

Your silence was as good an answer as any. He quickly grabbed your hand, speed walking up the stairs. As you raced through the corridors, you couldn't help but giggle to yourself, despite the tension, the thrill of your secret made everything more exciting. The third-floor bathroom was tucked away in a corner of the building, rarely used since most of the activity happened on the lower floors.

Han pushed the door open, ushering you inside and locking the door.

"That was close," you sighed, leaning against the wall.

"What? Almost getting caught sneaking around?"

He inched closer to you, your hear beat peaking up as he caged you between the wall, "It's more fun when you're not supposed to be doing it, right?"

Your lips parted, but he left no room for discussion. His mouth was on yours in seconds, his leg nudging itself between your thighs, rubbing against your clothed core. You let out a soft whimper at the friction, running your hands through his hair and lightly tugging at the strands. His tongue teased the entrance of your mouth as he began grinding his thigh against you.

"Ahh, H-Han—"

"Shhh, just let me kiss you, jagi," he mumbled into your mouth, completely drunk on the taste of you. You melted into his touch, forgetting the fact that you could get caught. 

His hand cupped your cheek as he tilted your head to deepen the kiss, grinding harder against you as his tongue licked into your mouth when you softly gasped at the sensations he was giving you. His other hand slid down to the waistband of your pants, running the pads of his fingers teasingly along your hip. You whined into his mouth, arching your back into him in hope that he would get the signal.

"Patience, love." he teased, his warm breath on your neck sending tingles down your spine as he went back to kiss you.

A sharp knock on the door cut him off mid-kiss. You froze, staring at each other in horror.

"Han? You in there?" It was Chan's voice, followed by another knock. "Security said they saw you come up here."

You were frozen in panic, mind running through all the possible outcomes.

"Uh, yeah! Just a minute!" Han called out, his voice unnaturally high. He quickly pulled you out of your panic, cupping your cheeks and looking into your eyes with his boba ones, his voice turning soft and quiet, "We'll be fine, just breathe."

Changbin's voice chimed in, "Is everything okay? You've been gone for a while."

Quickly composing himself, he smoothed out your hair, forgetting about his own disheveled state as he tried to come up with an excuse, "Yeah, I'm fine! Just... stomach issues!"

You could hear muffled laughter from the other side of the door and embarrassment started filling your veins.

"Anyway, hurry up. We need to get back to the—" Chan's voice suddenly stopped.

A new voice—Minho's—spoke up, suspicion clear in his tone. "Wait, Han are you by yourself?"

The silence that followed was deafening. You and Han stared at each other like a deer caught in headlights.

"Han?" Chan's voice was serious now. "Is someone in there with you?"

Before Han could respond, you heard Seungmin's voice. "Guys, wasn't that Y/N's bag back in the dance studio?"

Your eyes widened in horror. In your rush, you must have forgotten to grab your bag off the counter.

"Oh my god," you whispered, covering your face with your hands. Han dropped his head on your shoulder, letting out a deep, defeated sigh. He let out a choked laugh, groaning against your shoulder, "This is absurd…"

"Han, open the door." Chan demanded.

He gave you an apologetic look before pulling away from you and unlocking the door, revealing all seven of his bandmates crowded in the hallway, expressions ranging from shocked to amused to scandalized.

"I-it's not what you think…" his voice trailed off towards the end of his sentence.

You adjusted yourself on the wall, your face burning. "We were just… talking."

"In the bathroom?" Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, looking between you.

Han looked back at you, his expression falling as you nodded at him in approval, immediately turning your head away in hopes it would kill your embarrassment.

"We… uh, we've been sneaking around," Han confessed, lowering his head as he waited for the scolding to start — but it never did.

"We know," Minho scoffed out a laugh. "You two were painfully obvious."

"What— not that obvious…" you trailed off when Minho cocked a brow at you.

"You guys mention each other in like every other sentence," Changbin teased, further proving their point. Han pouted at him, a silent question in his expression as if addressing the elephant in the room.

"We've known since you guys started, so a few weeks," Changbin confirmed, leaning on the door frame.

"Jesus… really?" you gasped, frowning at them. They all shrugged, some of them trying to stifle their laughs. Jeongin opened his mouth to say something but Han quickly cut him off, half closing the door in their faces. "Okay, give us a minute—"

Giving them no time to respond, he closed the door completely. Silence filled the bathroom and all you wanted to do was turn on the shower and drown your little dilemma away. Han seemed to sense your tension, slowly approaching you — the sound of feet shuffling outside the door becoming more distant.

Letting out a deep sigh, you slid down the wall, hugging your knees to your chest. Immediate worry washed over Han as he quickly knelt by your side, his hands hovering just above your knees.

"What are we doing?" you said, breath catching.

Han frowned, resting his hands on your knees now, "W-what do you mean?"

"People are slowly finding out. How long until the public—"

"Don't." he cut you off, his sudden firm tone making your mouth seal instantly. "This won't change anything, I promise you that. If the public finds out then so be it. As long as I have you — and you're happy — nothing else matters."

A single tear rolled down your cheek, which he quickly wiped away with his thumb as he cupped your cheeks. He began pressing soft kisses all over your face — your nose, forehead, cheeks — you let out a small giggle, the kisses tickling your skin.

"There she is," Han gingerly smiled, his eyes flickering to your lips before he leaned in. The kiss was tender and slow, and you could feel him smile against your mouth, like the kiss was conveying all the emotions he couldn't put into words. You melted against him, all your worries slowly seeping into the back of your mind.

Pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours, both your eyes still closed as you shared the quiet, intimate moment.

In that moment, with Han in your arms, you knew everything would be okay.

Author's Note: I really suck with endings, so please ignore it :( this ending is my least fav

[imaginespazzi]

Part 6: To Trying Again

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15

I don't wanna mess this thing up (I don't wanna push too far)

(In which an "evil" writer might surprise you guys just a little bit with this part)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 5.6K

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Happy Monday lovelies! This is sort of a filler-ish short chapter though I do think it's important to both plot and character development. I'd like to preface this by saying I've never been to Minsk or Park Pieramohi so I'm very much going off of pictures. Editing and I remain on very, very bad terms so pretty please let me know of typos so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

July 2018 

“You’re being too loud,” Azzi whisper-screams at the blonde girl in front of her as she closes the door to her room behind her with a little too much force. 

Paige turns her head back every-so-slightly with a pronounced eye roll, “will you please relax.”

“I would if you’d just be a little more careful,” Azzi glares, taking cautious steps as if the sound of her sneakers across the carpeted floor could potentially wake up any of the coaches. 

“Azzi,” Paige says exasperatedly, “the coaches are all the way on the other end of the hallway. Besides, they're probably all sleeping.”

And despite her stubbornness, Azzi can concede that Paige has a point there. It’s nearly midnight and the game against Spain earlier in the day might have had a final score that made it seem like the USA U17 women's basketball team had won handily, but the game itself had been draining to say the least. The post-victory dinner had featured a bunch of worn out teenagers gobbling their food without much conversation and a cohort of coaches who seemed like they needed an hour of drinking followed by good night’s sleep. But even the exhaustion of the day hadn’t been enough to prevent Paige Bueckers and her diabolical mind from coming up with the idea to sneak out into the city of Minsk. 

“No,” Azzi had said immediately even before the words had been spoken, that shimmering glint in Paige’s eyes a dead giveaway as she sidled up to Azzi at the salad bar. 

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” Paige had pouted. 

“You never say anything good.”

“That’s crazy. You’re so mean to me.”

“So mean,” Azzi had nodded in agreement, “so how about you go and bother someone else.”

“Azzi please. We haven’t had just Paige and Azzi time in ages. Don’t want someone else. Just want you.”

And after that well, there wasn’t really any chance of saying no. Azzi’s only fifteen and she doesn’t know that much about love, but sometimes when Paige looks at her with those earnest blue eyes and a smile that promises i’ll always be here, she thinks the way her heart starts to flutter erratically to a beat of and i wouldn’t want anyone else to stay, might just be the start of her finding out. 

“See,” Paige grins triumphantly as the two girls find their way out of their hotel and onto the street, “told you we wouldn’t get caught. Shit’s just too damn easy.”

Azzi rolls her eyes at the attitude, “don’t tempt fate.”

“Fate’s got nothing in front of Paige Bueckers. I make my own fate,” Paige winks as she links her arms through Azzi. 

It’s a mundane amount of contact, absolutely nothing special to it, but Azzi feels herself shiver in spite of the humidity that’s circling around them. She doesn’t quite know how it happened. One moment she was staring across the court, judging the skinny blonde practicing free throws and coming to the conclusion that she’d be no threat; the next moment said girl was next to her on the plane back from Argentina and Azzi, a self-admitted introvert, found herself rattling off about everything and nothing with this girl who seemed to have discovered the keys to all of Azzi’s locks. Hours of talking had bled into days and days had bled into months and despite the fact that facetime had taken the place of in-person conversations, the word friendship had seemed too cavalier a word to describe the relationship Paige and Azzi were building. 

Paige had whittled away all of Azzi’s carefully constructed armor until she was buried deep underneath her skin and Azzi’s sure there’s no knife in the world sharp enough to carve the blonde out from where she lives underneath Azzi’s ribcage. Azzi doesn’t want anyone to try and dig her out. She  thinks she might bleed out if they do. 

“Az,” Paige whines, waving her free hand in the younger girl’s face, “are you even paying attention to me?”

“That depends,” Azzi hums, “are you saying anything interesting?”

“I’m always saying something interesting.”

“You’re always saying something. The interesting is subjective,” Azzi teases, laughing when Paige pouts. 

“I sneak you out to give you an adventure and this is how you repay me? With insults?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her heart.

“Walking boring streets is not an adventure. Virginia has streets too.”

“It’s not about the streets, it’s about where the streets lead to,” Paige says with grave seriousness. 

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “are you entering your philosopher Paige era?”

“I’d make a good philosopher,” Paige waggles her own eyebrows as they two girls find themselves entering park Pieramohi. 

“Virginia has parks too, you know Paige?” Azzi says skeptically. 

Paige lets out a dramatic sigh, “will you just keep walking, woman. Sometimes I wonder if you even like me?”

It’s said like a joke but there’s a hint of insecurity beaded into it that buzzes in Azzi’s ears as she wraps a careful hand around Paige’s wrist, stopping the two of them where they are. 

“Hey,” she whispers softly, nudging the older girl, “you don’t ever have to wonder with me. I’m always gonna like you Paige. Even if you’re a pain in my ass half the time.”

“Had to ruin it with the last part, didn't you?” Paige complains but her eyes twinkle at the reassurance, “Just so you know I’m gonna be a pain in your ass forever.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Azzi promises as they continue strolling through the park. 

The silence is peaceful and the breeze that flows around them is like a comforting hug. And Azzi thinks that she’d be okay if there wasn’t a destination for them to get to, as long as the journey came with Paige by her side. 

“We’re almost there,” Paige says slowly, a slightly nervous edge to her voice. 

“You sure you’re not just getting us lost-” the teasing quip dies on Azzi’s tongue as she stares at the scenery in front of her. They’re standing on the edge of a bridge overlooking a lake and it looks like something out of a disney fairytale; the picturesque image of green trees silhouetted against a magically starry night is captured perfectly on the still surface of the water that’s flowing beneath. As Azzi peers across the railing, Paige right next to her, she feels her breath hitch at the reflection that peers up at her. Because the view in front of them is beautiful but Paige’s eyes are on Azzi and she’s staring at her as if the view is nothing in comparison. 

“C’mon,” the blonde says softly, lacing her fingers through Azzi’s as she tugs her along, “I have a plan.”

“There’s more?” Azzi asks in awe as Paige guides her to the gazebo in the middle of the bridge. 

“Just a little bit,” Paige says and oh- that shy smile is different. Azzi doesn’t think she’s seen that one yet and she makes a mental note to herself, to memorize it and store it along with all of Paige’s other smiles that make Azzi’s insides swoop like a rollercoaster. 

She watches intently as Paige begins to peruse through the purple rucksack she’d been carrying. The first thing out of it is a picnic blanket and then a horde of different snacks, all of Azzi’s favorites. Two plastic champagne glasses are next and then a sheepish grin as Paige pulls out a bottle of soda. 

“Couldn’t quite risk trying to get alcohol,” Paige scratches at her neck. 

“Next time maybe,” Azzi shrugs as she helps Paige set up the arrangement and she feels herself fluttering at the thought of doing this again and again and again. 

“How’d you even find this place?” she asks as Paige begins to pour out the soda. 

“You ever heard of googling?”

Azzi rolls her eyes at Paige’s teasing smirk, “how’d you even have time to do this?”

Paige is quiet for a second as she passes Azzi her glass, “wanted to do something special for us,” she says quietly, keeping her eyes intently on what she’s doing as she pours out a drink for herself, “wasn’t hard to find time for you.”

“You could be a poet, Paige Bueckers,” Azzi whispers and she knows it’s unfair of her but she thinks it anyway. As long as all your poems are about me. 

“The poets are lucky I chose a ball instead of a pen. They’d be out of a job otherwise,” Paige says, trying to ease back into the more familiar arrogance. 

“Always so humble,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes as she holds up her glass, “alright what are toasting to?”

“I came up with this whole thing. You can come up with a toast,” Paige scrunches her nose and Azzi shakes her head at it. 

She thinks for a second before smiling brightly at the girl in front of her, “let’s just keep it simple and toast to us.”

“How original,” Paige teases but she clinks her glass against Azzi’s anyways, “here’s to us.”

“Here’s to us,” Azzi repeats as they both take sips of soda. 

They melt into a comfortable silence, relishing in this rare moment where there isn’t a screen separating them from each other. Facetimes is a wonderful creation but a blurry screen, Azzi decides, doesn’t nearly do justice to just how damn pretty Paige is. Her hair is golden as it basks in the glow of the moon and Azzi wonders if the stars are jealous of how brilliantly the blonde’s blue eyes twinkle.

It’s Paige who speaks first, her voice hesitant, “you uh- you never asked me how my date went a couple of weeks ago.”

Azzi feels her whole body go rigid. She’d almost forgotten about Paige’s wretched date. The blonde had told her about it a couple of days before the actual event and Azzi had played the dutiful role of a best friend, teasing Paige with a light-heartedness she didn’t feel and congratulating her with an excitement that came from anywhere but from the heart. She’d purposely avoided Paige’s calls the day of the date and then two days after, coming up with some sorry excuse she no longer remembers. On the third day, when the hollow ache of i miss her voice in her chest had become too hard to ignore, Azzi had finally picked up the phone and diverted the conversation straight to a different topic. She hadn’t thought of the date since. 

“Guess it slipped my mind,” she says airily, fingers gripping the edge of the picnic blanket. 

“I could tell you about it now,” Paige says slowly. 

I’d rather you didn’t, Azzi thinks but that’s a thought that veers a little too out of the sphere of best-friend-isms and so she simply nods her head, “y-yeah tell me about it. How was it?”

“It was nice,” Paige begins and there’s something hidden in her tone that Azzi can't quite place but she’s a little too busy sulking at the idea of Paige with anybody else to try and decipher it, “dinner was good. Took her to a movie after. That was good too.”

“That’s cool P. I’m glad- I’m glad you had fun,” Azzi says nonchalantly, gripping the glass in her hands just a little too tight. 

“I didn’t.”

“What?”

“I didn’t really have that much fun,” Paige clarifies and Azzi gawks at her in confusion as the older girl fidgets with the frayed edges of the picnic blankets, “just didn’t- didn’t feel right. Don’t think she had much fun either. She never texted me after.”

“What a bitch,” Azzi bites out, suddenly irrationally angry at a girl she’d never met because how could anyone possibly not have fun with Paige, “I’m sorry P. You deserve-”

“I didn’t care that she didn’t text back-”

“Still. It’s just the decent thing to do,” Azzi rants. 

“Maybe,” Paige shrugs, “but I didn’t have time to care about that. I had other things on my mind. Like the fact that you weren’t talking to me.”

Azzi flinches at the accusation, rushing out her previous defense, “I was busy.”

“Bullshit,” Paige sneers. 

“Paige-”

“But I get it,” the older girl says softly as she reaches for Azzi’s hand, tugging the brunette closer to her and Azzi feels something inside her erupt at how close their faces are, “I probably wouldn’t have talked to you for two days either if you went on a date with someone else.”

“Oh,” Azzi breathes out and there’s probably something more eloquent she should say but there’s this realization of maybe you feel it too that’s beginning to creep up her spine, rendering her speechless as Paige continues to stare at her like she’s mapping out all the tiniest details of Azzi’s face. 

“The whole date, I kept thinking how you wouldn’t order what she ordered off the menu or that you would probably hit my hand if I tried to steal something off your plate but then give it to me anyway. And that the movie would never have been so quiet with you and we’d probably get yelled at for giggling too much and I-” Paige pauses, dragging in a deep breath, “I definitely would’ve kissed you at the end.”

A sigh of relief escapes Azzi’s lips, “you didn’t kiss her.”

“No,” Paige confirms as she drops her forehead against Azzi’s, “but I-,” the blonde gulps nervously and Azzi can’t help the way her hand reaches up to caress the blush forming on Paige’s cheeks. 

“Ask me,” she whispers.

“I really want to kiss you,” Paige confesses, voice shaking slightly, “can I kiss you?”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, choosing to reply instead by pressing her lips softly against Paige’s. They move slowly at first, testing each other’s boundaries and savoring their first taste of each other. Azzi pulls the older girl onto her lap, hands firmly on Paige’s hips as the other girl clasps her own hands around Azzi’s neck.  It’s a little messy and uncoordinated and Azzi thinks they might need to practice a little more to really get it right but still, it’s everything.

And Azzi just knows

She knows it then just the way she knew Tim was meant to be her dad. The way she knew Jon and José were meant to be her brothers. The way she knew she was meant to play basketball. Azzi knows that she’s meant to fall hopelessly in love with Paige Bueckers. 

March 2033

There are three things Azzi should do. 

Push Paige away 

Tell her this a bad idea 

Run the fuck away

She does none of the above.

Instead Azzi kisses Paige back. 

And it’s still everything. Like the sun and moon are colliding and creating something so insanely powerful; something that feels so eternal. 

There’s nothing soft or slow about it as Paige presses every inch of herself into Azzi until she can feel Paige’s heartbeat as strongly as she can feel her own. It might be impossible but she swears their hearts are talking to each other, tapping out rhythms against each other’s chests that confess all the things their owners are too scared to say. And Azzi wants nothing more than to lose herself completely in the moment because Paige’s lips feel like a drug and Azzi thinks she might just be an addict in relapse. 

Except to relapse, you need to have recovered. And Azzi doesn’t think she ever fully recovered from Paige. 

It isn’t until she feels her back hit the edge of a desk and the sound of something crashing onto the floor infiltrates her ears, that Azzi finally comes to her senses. She tears her lips away from Paige as the older woman groans in protest, arms tightening their hold on Azzi’s waist so she can still have some semblance of control over the situation. And really Azzi knows she’s strong enough to escape Paige’s grip, could easily fight it if she wanted to. But well, she doesn’t want to. And Azzi’s tired of doing things she doesn’t want to do. 

“Paige-”

“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘we can’t do this’, Azzi I swear to god I’m going to kill you,” Paige threatens, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s. 

Azzi laughs softly and she can feel Paige’s whole body relax at the sound of it and like clockwork, she feels the tension beginning to release from her own muscles, “if you kill me then we definitely can’t do this.”

“I’ll revive you after or something,” Paige says with a half-smirk. 

“Or something,” Azzi rolls her eyes, “but we can’t-”

“Azzi,” Paige groans. 

“We can’t do this right now and definitely not here,” Azzi amends, alluding to the fact that they’re still in Steph’s office. 

Paige raises an eyebrow, cocking her head slightly, “but we can do this later? Somewhere else?”

The question lingers between them as Azzi bites her lip. She knows what this is, knows that it’s Paige putting the ball in her court. A ‘no’ would likely be the end of things and that scares her more than she’s willing to admit but she’s not quite ready to commit to a ‘yes’ yet, even if that flame of desire inside of her, the one that can only be lit by Paige, is blazing hot through her veins. 

“I don’t know,” Azzi says carefully, shivering at the way Paige’s thumb is rubbing circles against her waist, the flimsy material of her shirt doing nothing to prevent the goosebumps forming on her skin, “TBD.”

“That’s not a no,” Paige says carefully, hope blossoming freely on her face. 

“That’s not a yes either,” Azzi warns half-heartedly. 

“But it’s not a no,” Paige presses. 

“No,” Azzi admits, playing with the neckline of Paige’s shirt, “it’s not a no.”

And Azzi’s so scared of the future, scared that if she lets herself burn, she’ll incinerate everyone around her but there’s something in the way Paige smiles at her words. Something that feels a lot like a promise of i’ll be the rain that washes out the fire before you can turn us to ashes. 

“I can work with that,” Paige says softly, tilting Azzi’s chin up. 

“So desperate to get back into my pants Bueckers,” Azzi teases and she expects a witty remark in return but instead she’s met with nothing but sincerity. 

“So desperate to get back into your life,” Paige whispers, voice cracking on the last two words. 

Tears prickle against Azzi’s waterline as she stares in awe at the girl in front of her. Sometimes she thinks Paige doesn’t even know that there’s a halo of goodness sitting above her head, doesn't even know just how beautiful her soul is. Paige is stunning on the outside; it’s something no one can deny. But it’s nothing compared to how gorgeous she is on the inside, nothing compared to how kind, how humble, how forgiving Paige is. 

“Why?” Azzi asks, her tone rife with heaviness. 

“Why what?” 

“After everything, after all this time, why would you still want to be in my life?” the tears fall harder as Azzi struggles to breathe, “I- I broke your heart. I broke us. How could you possibly want that again. How could you possibly want me again?”

Paige's eyes soften as she cups Azzi’s cheeks, thumbs brushing away at the drops of water running down them, “because you’re Azzi. My Azzi. And I get it- I get that you’re not ready to be all in on this with me yet and if I’m being honest with myself, I’m not completely ready either. But we can work on it right? Take it slow and see where it goes and maybe we’ll- maybe we’ll be even better this time.”

“You think so?”

“I believe so.”

Azzi presses her lips delicately against Paige’s, reveling in the way it makes Paige’s breath hitch. She pulls away faster than she would like herself and Paige chases her lips, eyes still closed. 

“What was that for,” the blonde asks, slightly dazed. 

“For being my Paige.”

***

Azzi taps her foot impatiently against her wooden patio as she glances at her phone clock for the umpteenth time. Paige is almost twenty minutes late to pick her and Stephie up to go to dinner at her parent’s house. The invites had technically been separate but Paige had insisted that they needed to go together because Paige didn’t want to walk into the house alone. Azzi’s not sure why Paige is nervous to see her dad and brothers again, not when she’s pretty sure they’re bursting with excitement to see the blonde whose pictures still have a permanent place on the family photo wall, but if Paige wants Azzi by her side, well she’s not going to say no. Not anymore. 

 It’s been a week since they’d agreed to take things slow and Azzi’s still not quite sure what exactly that means, but she thinks she likes it. She likes being able to call Paige and not having to come up with a lame excuse for why. She likes that she and Paige can take Stephie out for ice cream after Curry Camp and they don’t have to pretend they’re only tolerating each other’s presence for the little girl’s sake. She likes that they can brush their pinkies while walking and instead of jolting away, they simply just link them together. There’s boundaries of course. No sleepovers at either of their houses. No doing anything more than kissing. No kissing in front of anyone else and definitely no kissing in front of Stephie. No doing anything in front of Stephie really. And there’s still so much mountain left to climb but as long as they’re pushing up it together, Azzi doesn’t think there’s any incline steep enough to stop her from continuing up this path.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals as Paige’s car rounds the corner into Azzi’s driveway. 

Paige steps out of the car, arms wide open and ready to catch Stephie as the little girl goes tumbling down the front porch, aiming straight for the blonde. Azzi’s not an artist by any means but if she was, she thinks she could paint a thousand pictures of Stephie and her Miss Buecks. It terrifies Azzi a little bit, just how perfectly Stephie fits into Paige’s side but it calms her too because there’s a part of her that’s in love with how much they love each other.

“You’re late Bueckers,” Azzi chides as she follows her daughter’s path down the patio stairs. 

Paige grins, shifting Stephie on her lap as she opens the side door to her car to pull out two bouquets of flowers

“Will these make up for it?” she asks slyly as she hands the larger one, an assortment of pink flowers, to Azzi and a slightly smaller bouquet of purple hydrangeas to Stephie. 

“These are so pretty Miss Buecks,” Stephie gushes before pressing a kiss to Paige’s cheek left cheek and Paige beams at the compliment, “thank you Miss Buecks.”

“You took that long to get flowers?” Azzi asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“Mama,” Stephie chides immediately, “you’re supposed to thank someone when they give you a gift.”

“Yeah Azzi,” Paige’s eyes glimmer with mirth, “thank me like Stephie thanked me. Don’t you think Mama owes me a kiss on the cheek Steph?”

Azzi narrows her eyes at the scheming pair in front of her as Stephie nods animatedly at Paige’s question, “yeah Mama you owe Miss Buecks a kiss on the cheek.”

Shaking her head, Azzi walks over to Paige taking deliberately steady steps. Slowly Azzi leans in, puckering her lips. Paige closes her eyes and Azzi winks at Stephie who’s eyes widen. 

“I’m waiting,” Paige sing-songs, a self-satisfied smirk taking over her features. 

And instead of the promised kiss, Azzi licks a sloppy strip down Paige’s cheek and the blonde shrieks as both Azzi and Stephie burst into laughter.

“EW AZZI GROSS,” Paige whines, hurriedly rubbing her shirt against her cheek, “is this what you’re teaching your daughter?”

“I’m teaching my daughter not to let anyone manipulate her,” Azzi says, giving Paige a careful look, “now why were you late?”

Paige grins sheepishly as she opens the door to the backseat of the door. A lavender car seat is placed on the left side of the car and Azzi feels her heart lurch with no one’s ever cared like this. 

“It’s pu-ple,” Stephie claps excitedly, “is it for me?”

“Of course it is,” Paige confirms, booping Stephie’s nose before looking at Azzi, “it’s just- we uh- we always have to take your car cause it has the car seat and moving it between cars is such a hassle. So I just thought- you know- I just thought it’d be cool- useful- practical- if I had one too? And this way if you ever need me to take Stephie off you then I uh- then you don’t have to worry about me driving. I don’t- I don’t really knows much about car seats but I looked it up online before and the person at the store agreed that this is definitely the best one- like I swear it’s safe-”

She’s cut off by the feel of Azzi’s lips pressed to her cheeks. 

“Thank you Paige.”

***

Just as Azzi expected, Paige merges herself back into the Fudd family with the same ease she’d first had when she’d carved out a place for herself almost a decade and a half ago. It’s a little emotional at first when Tim opens the door, a smile almost as big as him decorating his face as he pulls Paige into a hug even before she can say a word. 

“Welcome home kid,” he whispers into her blonde hair and Azzi doesn’t have to see Paige’s face to know that her best friend is blinking away tears. 

Guilt surges in Azzi’s stomach and she tries to swallow away the lump of i took this from her that’s blocking her throat. It had been so simple at 15 to give Paige a part of her world; Azzi hadn’t thought twice about it. And then with the snap of her fingers, she’d taken that world away. She knows her parents had never cut Paige out; hell they’d been at her wedding to some other woman -and Azzi had pushed them to go knowing Paige would need it- but it was a far cry from what they’d been. A far cry from when Paige’s schedule was a key factor while planning Fudd family summers. 

“Hey,” Stephie pouts, tiny hands crossed over her small body “I thought you always gave me the first hug Pops.”

“We’ll make an exception today,” Tim says with a wink before letting Paige walk into Katie’s arms and spinning his granddaughter around, “but you’re always gonna be my favorite.”

“I better be,” Stephie threatens and the adults around her laugh. 

And finally it’s Azzi's turn to be pulled into one of her dad’s patent bear hugs. She goes willingly, always at her most warmest in the arms of the man whose blood might not run through her veins, but whose love had always protected her from the cruelties of the world. 

“You look really happy today sweetheart,” Tim says softly. 

Azzi’s eyes flitter over her father’s shoulder to where Jon and José are embroiling Paige in a group hug with Stephie in the middle of it, screaming about finally having their “white sister” back, as Katie and José’s fiancé Tallulah roll their eyes at the group of them, and she can’t help but smile into her dad’s shirt, “I feel pretty happy today.”

*** 

“You cheated,” Jon yells. 

“Miss Buecks does not cheat,” Stephie yells back loyally. 

“Don’t get into this Stephie. You don’t know her like we do,” José glares at Paige who narrows her eyes at him, “she’s been stealing from the bank.”

“Miss Buecks does not  steal,” Stephie defends again, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck from behind as the blonde presses a quick kiss against Stephie’s temple. 

“It’s okay Stephie,” Paige reassures, gently swinging the little girl into her lap, “some people are just sore losers.”

“Can’t be a sore loser because I didn’t lose-” José coughs and Jon corrects himself immediately, “because we didn’t lose.”

“Y’all let it go,” Tallulah groans, leaning her head back against the sofa, “it’s literally just monopoly. Please, I'm so tired.”

“Just monopoly? JUST MONOPOLY?” José guffaws dramatically, “I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who doesn’t understand that it isn’t just monopoly Tallulah. It’s about liars and cheats and honor-”

“Miss Buecks has plenty of honor,” Stephie says stubbornly, leaning her head back against Paige’s chest.

Jon rounds on Azzi, who’s been silently watching the situation, “did you help her cheat?”

“Excuse me?” Azzi asks, glaring at her brother from where she’s been comfortable reclining on the sofa. She’d opted to be the banker instead of playing, content just handing out money to the rest of them while watching the game unfold. But really she hadn’t been paying much attention to anyone else but her daughter and Paige. Stephie didn’t quite understand the rules yet and so she was always on someone’s team. It had been a given tonight, that of course she would be with Paige. And Azzi had watched, trying not to be too obvious, with a foolish grin on her face, as her two favorite people whispered to each other, Paige listening intently to all of Stephie’s ideas whether they were good or bad. 

“Oh good point,” José turns to look at Azzi too, “you’re the banker, did you help Paige cheat?”

“Mama would never cheat,” Stephie argues defiantly as Azzi pushes herself up from the sofa to send a menacing look to both of her brothers. 

“I’m not going to dignify that accusation with a justification,” Azzi says, standing so she’s towering over her two brothers who are still sitting on the floor, “now clean up the game. It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime.”

 They might be well into their twenties and José might be taller than her now, but they’re still not quite  immune to Azzi’s wrath. Tallulah and Paige snicker as the two men, sulking at each other, obey their older sister's command without another word. 

“You’ve gotta teach me how you do that,” Tallulah says, hi-fiving Azzi who smirks in response. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, “what does dig-ni-fy mean?”

“Mean she’s not gonna entertain your uncles being dumba-”

“Paige!”

“Being dumbapples,” Paige corrects and both Azzi and Stephie give her an odd look at her ridiculous attempt at saving the bad word from leaving her lips. 

“Alright Stephie-bean,” Azzi says, pulling her daughter off of Paige’s lap, “it’s late enough. Off to brush your teeth you go.”

Stephie looks hesitantly between the staircase leading up to the guest bedroom -where she and Azzi normally stayed- and Paige. 

“Can Miss Buecks stay with us tonight?” she asks softly, one hand bunching in Paige’s shirt as she stares up at her mother with large doe eyes, “please Mama.”

“Stephie I don’t think-” Paige begins, ready to stick to the boundaries they’d laid out for themselves and really Azzi should let her; should follow her lead really.  

Except the words are tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop them, “yeah she can- she can stay.”

“YAYY,” Stephie squeals, jumping into Azzi’s arms as Paige stares up at her in surprise, “thank you, thank you, thank you Mama. I’m so happy,” she swings from Azzi to Tallulah, “aunty Tully did you hear? Miss Buecks is gonna stay with us and you can make her your famous pancakes in the morning.”

“I can, can I?” Tallulah asks with a raised eyebrow as she lets Stephie and her excited chatter lead her towards the bathroom. With Jon and José both having already started towards their own rooms and Azzi’s parents fast asleep, it leaves just Paige and Azzi in the living room. 

“You’re okay with me staying?” Paige asks softly, finally lifting herself from the floor and onto her feet. 

Azzi scratches the back of her neck, “if- if you want to. You don’t have to. I can- I’ll explain to Stephie-”

“I want to,” Paige says, taking a cautious step towards Azzi, “but the rules?”

“This doesn’t count,” Azzi justifies and Paige smirks, taking another step towards the brunette. 

“It doesn’t?”

“We said no sleeping over at each other’s places. This is my parent’s house. So technically it doesn’t count,” Azzi shrugs, trying to keep her face from breaking into a grin as Paige moves one more step closer. 

“And where exactly am I sleeping?” Paige asks with a knowing grin as she loops an arm around Azzi’s waist, briefly checking to make sure no one’s around. 

Azzi tilts her head, letting the grin break through, “I think Stephie would like it if you slept with us.”

“Ah well if that’s what Stephie would like,” Paige says, nodding commiseratingly. 

“For Stephie’s sake,” Azzi repeats as she wraps her arm around Paige’s neck, pressing her forehead against the older girl’s and letting herself just breathe in the peace that comes with being all consumed by Paige. 

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is laced with uncharacteristic vulnerability as she speaks again, “you won’t- you won’t run away again tomorrow morning will you?”

“No,” Azzi promises, gently brushing her lips against Paige’s, “I won’t run away again.”

[whoskimii]

omg loved your gojo makeout piece could you please write one for yuuji

thank you baby!! of course, here you go :3

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > yuuji x you. note that all characters are aged up!! steamy makeout sesh with your bf <33 tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

yuuji missed you. of course he did. how couldn't he ? between his missions and yours, you both got less time to spend with each other. as much as you hated it.

you knew you had no choice but to follow orders whenever your bubbly teacher would interrupt your little moment of peace to tell you that you had yet another mission. it was honestly tiring.

whenever you had a mission, yuuji had free time. and whenever yuuji had a mission, you had free time. it was like an endless cycle. the circle was just repeating itself, over and over again.

so when you both had free time at the same time, your heart leapt out of joy.

that also explained why you found yourself in your boyfriend's dorm. yuuji was on top of you, his hand buried in your baby pink panties as your pretty manicured fingers tangled in his disheveled strands.

he caressed your needy little clit with the pad of his middle finger as you whined sweetly against his lips. when he pulled his hand out of your underwear, he connected his finger with his thumb and slowly stretched the little sticky string of transparent fluid and watched shamelessly. he couldn't believe just how wet you were.

"shit," he cursed under his breath. "you get like this 'cause of me...? i'm a lucky bastard." he grinned lazily before his lips crashed onto yours. you hummed into the kiss and he smiled, his hand wrapping around your waist while the other grabbed a handful of your ass.

he sighed and rested his forehead against yours. his heart was beating like crazy and his cock was throbbing in his pants. to relieve himself, he began grinding against you. he sneaked a hand around your thigh and hooked it over his hip to pull you impossibly closer. "i need you, yuuji..." you mumbled.

he absolutely loved the way you said his name. it would always roll off your tongue like honey. he didn't care about the circumstances— the way you called out his name, the way you breathed it and moaned it, it would always make him shiver.

"yeah, i know... i know, i need you too, baby..." he breathed. he wished he could just fill you up right there and then, but he feared that megumi would complain in the morning. again. poor baby didn't sleep much when you were around. "i promise, sweet girl... i'll take care of you... wanna stuff you nice and full, but we aren't alone..."

at your little disappointed whine, he sighed. his heart almost ached. "i know, baby, i know... s'fine. i'm still gonna take care of you." you bit on your bottom lip as he pressed the tip of his finger against your sloppy entrance. "gotta be quiet, cupcake." he slowly slid his digit inside you, all the while covering your mouth with his hand.

as his finger finally bottomed out, he hummed approvingly. "aaaand... s'all the way in, baby." he pushed it in and out lazily, watching your pretty eyes flutter close. "feels nice, huh ? yeah..." he chuckled. "bet it makes you feel all warm and tingly inside."

as you clenched around his digit, he sighed. he just wished that he could bury himself between your legs right now but if the sleep of his grumpy friend was disturbed, yuuji would never see the end of it.

he hummed. "c'mon, baby. don't take too long, okay ? i wanna get spoiled too." you whined. "yuuji..."

"yeah ? somethin' you wanna say, sweetie ?" he asked cockily. "wanna cum..." you mumbled. "i know." he finally found your sweet spot and it only took you a few other thrusts to come. "aw, you came ? already ? shit, i can't believe it." he slowly pulled out his digit, which was now coated in your sweet essence. "mind if i get a taste, baby ?"

you would never deny him his favorite drink, would you ?

yuuji is such a sweetheart like???

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆