#been laughing for a hot minute ngl

[mommalosthermind]

Entertainment of the day is getting a nasty-gram from a Facebook writer’s group: “your comment was removed for name calling!! That is unacceptable!!”

The name calling: “giving unsolicited Crit is rude and entitled.”

Okay then.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 3: Miss Me, Miss Me Not

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

And it hits me when the lights go on (shit, maybe I miss you)

(In which a lazy writer somehow still manages to make her deadlines, much to her own shock)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 5.8K

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

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I'm not gonna lie til about an hour ago, I very much did not think I was gonna give y'all a Monday update but here we are! A couple of housekeeping things, I went back and added months to the years so hopefully that's more helpful. I lowkey dislike this part but I felt like the fic needed it and I'm excited to write the next part. Ngl, the editing on this is pretty nonexistent because trying to read this back lowkey killed me so please feel free to point out mistakes so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, and disliked and anything you wanna see going forward. I really appreciate all of y'alls feedback and the long reviews make my day! Have a good rest of your week lovies <3

September 2017

Azzi: just got home :) 

It’s a simple text and it should be easy for Paige to conjure up an equally simple reply. Instead she finds herself typing and deleting, over and over, because nothing sounds quite right. There’s this hollow feeling thrumming in her chest, that has only gotten stronger every passing minute since she’d said goodbye to Azzi at the airport. If she tries hard enough, she can still feel the remnants of their last hug lingering against every inch of her skin. She wants to memorize that feeling and create a blanket out of its threads to numb the ice cold shiver that’s been repeatedly running through her veins from the second Azzi had gotten on that plane. But even that might not be enough. Not when she’s learnt just how warm Azzi’s presence can be and how everything else pales in comparison. 

Paige lies to herself that it’s an accidental slip of her fingers, that she’d meant to press send not call, that she had every intention of hanging up the facetime on the first ring itself. 

But then Azzi picks up on the second one.

And really it would be rude to hang up. 

“Hey what’s up?” Azzi’s face fills the screen, tired eyes staring intently at Paige through the screen. 

“Oh um-” Paige fumbles for words, awkwardly shuffling her feet that are dangling off the side of her bed, “I just wanted to ask how your flight was?”

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “you couldn’t have texted me that?”

“Too tired to text,” Paige lies and the words i just wanted to hear your voice stay stuck, burning hot, in her throat, “gotta save these money-making fingers for more important things.”

“Yeah I’m hanging up-”

“NO-” it comes out far more forceful than it should and if possible, Azzi’s eyebrow shoots up even farther, as Paige clears her throat, “I mean- uh- you didn’t tell me how your flight was.”

Paige is too busy cringing at herself to notice the light blush that tinges Azzi’s cheeks. She’s too busy wondering why this girl brings out this nervous bumbling side of hers to notice the fond smile that almost cracks through Azzi’s lips. 

“The flight was okay. I actually got to sleep this time,” Azzi says pointedly and Paige laughs. 

“So what you’re saying is it was boring as hell.”

“I’m saying it was really peaceful not having someone yapping in my ear while I was trying to sleep.”

“So you didn’t miss me?” Paige presses, trying to keep her voice teasing despite how desperately she wants the admission. 

Azzi hesitates, as if she’s debating with herself, before, “I didn’t say that.”

It’s a little ridiculous how large Paige’s grin is but it’s okay, because Azzi’s smiling back, soft and shy. They’d look foolish to anyone else, the way they’re so intently gazing at each other through a screen as if there’s no barrier between them at all. 

“It’s gonna be weird going to the gym without you tomorrow morning,” Paige confesses after a second, moving to lay down on her stomach. 

“I bet. You’re gonna get absolutely nothing done without me,” Azzi teases dramatically before her eyes soften, “it’s weird that I’m not gonna see you at all tomorrow.”

There’s something gut-wrenching about that admission and yet, there’s something in it that heals a part of Paige’s heart that she hadn’t even known needed to be fixed. It means something to her that Azzi must feel it too. Because if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been just a little afraid that maybe the connection was just in her head, that maybe Azzi was simply tolerating her presence out of kindness. 

“You should just move to Minnesota,” Paige replies finally, “much nicer than Virgina or whatever.”

“Have you ever even been to Virginia?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she flips herself to lie on her back, holding her phone above her in a way that lets Paige see entirely too much and yet not nearly enough. 

“No but it sounds boring as fuck.”

“Not with me,” Azzi says, biting her bottom lip sheepishly as soon as the words are out. 

Paige smirks, suddenly filled with a brand new confidence, “yeah? You’d make Virgina interesting for me Fudd? What would we do?”

Azzi licks her lips and Paige feels her mouth go dry. 

“We’d be together,” the younger girl says finally, averting her gaze as the depth of her words begin to make Paige feel like she’s being flooded by an ocean of emotions she’s not quite ready to feel yet, “anything can be interesting if we’re together.”

It would be so easy to come up with a sarcastic quip or tease Azzi for being a sap and yet there’s a certain sincerity in this moment that feels too fragile for Paige to feign nonchalance. 

“Is Virginia nice in the winter?” she asks finally, hands fidgeting with the hair ties secured around her wrist, “Minny’s a little too cold sometimes.”

Azzi’s eyes shine and Paige wants to try and read them, find the little clues hidden in her irises and solve the mystery lingering behind the crimson flush of her cheeks. But the truth is that Paige is a little scared of what she’d find, a little scared that discovering Azzi might mean discovering herself too. 

“You should come find out some time,” the brunette says, casual tone filled with intricacies of something far deeper. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to saying anything of actual substance and they tip-toe around saying what they both want, daring the other to ask first. 

“I dunno,” Paige says, determined to win the game, “I’m not in the habit of showing up to places without a proper invite.”

Azzi scoffs, “a proper invite? Are you expecting someone to send you a carrier pigeon with a gold letter addressed to her royal highness or something?”

“That would be nice,” Paige surmises and Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Does your back ever hurt from carrying that ego?”

“Only hurts from carrying my team.”

“Oh my god you’re so full of it.”

“Full of talent? Yessirrrr.”

Azzi huffs, “Paige.”

“Azzi,” Paige hums. 

“Do you wanna come visit me in Virginia during winter break?” Azzi says finally, a small smile playing on her lips like she’s okay with losing this game as long as it’s to Paige. 

“If I must,” Paige says dramatically, shrugging her shoulders and everything as Azzi lets out an offended squeak. But inside, her heart flutters at the offer, at the idea of seeing Azzi again, even if it feels like a lifetime away. Because as long as it’s Azzi on the other side, Paige and her impatient self can wait however long it takes. 

“Actually you know what nevermind, you don’t gotta come,” Azzi concedes bitterly,  scrunching her face (and Paige would never tell her this but she thinks Azzi looks just a little too cute when she’s mad and so maybe she riles her up on purpose)

“No takesies backsies Az,” Paige sing-songs before her lips uptick from a smirk into something more sincere, “hey Az,” she whispers, giggling to herself when Azzi pretends to ignore her, “I’d really like to come see you in Virginia during winter break.”

And as a brilliant grin dazzles across Azzi’s face, Paige realizes that her favorite thing about Azzi’s smile isn’t when her dimples show or when her eyes twinkle, it’s when it’s there because of Paige, when it’s there just for Paige. 

“Good,” Azzi whispers as they fall into a comfortable silence. 

There’s this serene sense of calm that laces itself around Paige’s nerves. Her normally fidgeting body is content to be perfectly still, an anomaly to her usual demeanor. The truth is that Paige isn’t the kind of person who’s okay with just existing; she likes to spend every second in motion, living out the high. There’s a part of her that’s scared of missing moments, scared that the people around her will leave her behind if she doesn’t chase them. But it’s different with Azzi. The younger girl makes Paige feel like it’s okay if she takes a moment to just breathe. Because Azzi will wait. Because Azzi won’t leave Paige behind. 

“Wait,” it’s a little while before Azzi pipes up, shaking Paige out of her thoughts, “what time is it?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to the time on her phone, confused by the line of questioning, “it’s almost 9 why?”

“Don’t you have a team party or something to go to tonight?” Azzi asks, face scrunching, “I swear you told me you had something tonight.”

“Oh-yeah- Amaya’s back to school thing,” Paige sheepishly scratches her neck, suddenly feeling itchy in her flannel shirt. She’d forgotten she was wearing that instead of her daily clothes. Hell, she’d forgotten she was supposed to be going somewhere in the first place, too occupied with other thoughts. 

“Bro get up,” Azzi orders, “you’re already late.”

“Nah it’s fine. I don’t think I’m gonna go,” Paige says and she thinks she should probably feel a little more guilty about it. 

“What do you mean you’re not gonna go?” Azzi asks in disbelief, “dude you’re the star of the team. You have to go.”

“Amaya will understand besides-” Paige drags in a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as the next words fall out in a quiet whisper, “I don’t wanna hang up yet.”

“Paige c’mon we can talk tomorrow,” Azzi tries to protest but it’s half-hearted at best.

“I wanna talk right now,” Paige argues, “you don’t wanna talk to me?”

For a second Paige thinks Azzi might just say no, might just chip away a little bit of heart with a well-intentioned rejection, but she doesn’t, “always wanna talk to you P.”

“Then don’t hang up. Talk to me.”

And Azzi does. All night. 

Two weeks laters there’s a letter, in an envelope with a picture of a carrier pigeon, that arrives in the Bueckers’ mail box. 

To her royal highness, 

Unfortunately I couldn’t find an actual carrier pigeon (I swear I tried) so this envelope and the mailman will have to do. 

~ You are formally invited this winter break to the Fudd family residence in Virginia. ~

(And you better show up Bueckers)

Yours, 

Azzi

February 2033

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Ice whines petulantly as she makes herself comfortable on the couch across from where Paige is getting her makeup done, “this is parental neglect.”

Paige laughs, eyes closed, her makeup artist does her mascara, “you’ll survive.”

“You don’t know that” Ice argues, plucking a grape from the fruit basket before segueing into a rant about how boring Arlington, Texas is. 

Paige is grateful for the distraction her younger friend is providing. Her nerves had been on edge since the moment she’d woken up this morning, anxious to get the impending farewell press conference over with. She’d already started accepting that the Wings weren’t the right place for her but that feeling had only been heightened by her trip to the Valkyries. And ever since she’s come back, Paige feels a little bit like she’s sleepwalking through her final moments in Dallas. If she’s honest, she’s probably rushing things a little bit. There’s still plenty of time before she really has to move to Oakland but it had been her choice to move there as soon as possible. Paige had always been good at conjuring excuses and she had plenty as to why she needed to be in California so soon. But at the end of the day it isn’t about training or team bonding or any of the other hundred justifications she’s given anyone who’s asked. It’s about a little girl who’s eyes had been brimming with tears when saying goodbye, a little girl who had made Paige pinky swear that she’d be back as soon as possible. 

Really, Paige thinks she should be applauded for her restraint, because truth be told, the second Stephie’s lower lip had trembled, Paige had been prepared to ask Ice to just ship her stuff to Oakland so that she’d never have to let go of the little girl’s hand. 

And here’s the thing, Paige is willing to admit she wants to go back to the Bay Area for Stephie. It’s that pesky little part of her that’s desperate to go back for Stephie’s mother, to go back for one more hesitant yet lingering touch, that she won’t ever share with anyone else. 

“I never thought I’d live to see you and Azzi willingly playing together again,” Ice says as soon as Paige’s makeup artist leaves the room, “KK and I didn’t even try betting on it, we were that sure it wouldn’t happen. Shit I should have. I totally would have won.”

“Don’t y’all get tired of betting on my life?” Paige asks, rolling her eyes, trying to ignore the first part of what Ice said. 

“Betting on your life has made me hundreds of dollars bro,” Ice says, before a more earnest  look crosses her face, “but genuinely P, are you sure about this? There’s a lot of history there.”

Paige sighs, “it’s not about our history. It’s a basketball decision. And we’re both mature adults who know that. I’m just tryna win. Nothing else.”

“It’s never nothing when it comes to you two.”

“It is this time,” Paige argues adamantly and Ice raises her hands in surrender. 

“I just don’t want another set of teammates to have to deal with y’alls bullshit,” the younger girl teases, but it’s laced with a hint of seriousness that sends a flare of guilt shooting through Paige’s body. 

“Ice-” she begins.

But Ice is quick to change to a lighter subject, “can’t believe Jana’s the one that gets mom and dad back together. I always knew she was the favorite.”

“We didn’t have favorites,” Paige plays along, thankful for Ice and her ability to always keep the tension to a bare minimum. 

“Oh don’t lie. We all know you did,” Ice scoffs and then lets out a chuckle, “and now Azzi’s actually a mom. That’s kinda insane. And you met the kid right?”

“Yeah. Yeah I did,” Paige says and she can’t help the way her entire face breaks into a gleaming smile as her thoughts turn into memories of Stephie. She doesn’t even realize she’s gotten lost in a different world until Ice coughs, an amused grin playing on her lips. 

“You’re so royally fucked Paige,” Ice shakes her head, “the only person I’ve seen you smile that big for before is Azzi.”

“She’s a cute, smart, adorable kid, that’s why I’m smiling,” Paige tries to defend herself. 

“She’s Azzi’s cute, smart, adorable kid,” Ice counters. 

“That has nothing to do with it,” Paige protests again but it rings hollow to her own ears.

“Oh my god I needa call KK and get this bet started. It’s only a matter of time for real,” Ice says, more to herself than to Paige, as she whips out her phone, probably texting KK. 

“A matter of time till what?”

“You’ll find out Paigey,” Ice says gravely with a mocking smile, patting Paige’s head, “all in due time.”

***

The Dallas Wings media room is buzzing, reporters desperate to ask Paige questions and the blonde tries to maintain a smile despite the fact that her heart is lurching in her throat right now. Her opening speech had been short and sweet, parroting basically the same thing that had gone out on her social media the night before; she’d been desperate to just get it out. Generally, Paige is pretty good with the media, having been immersed in the spotlight since basically forever. The attention and how to maneuver it has always come naturally to her so she’s not sure why she feels so unnerved by it all today.  From the back of the media room, Ice sends her a thumbs up and a reassuring grin and Paige lets out a breath, glad to have at least that comforting presence with her. 

“Aidrian Ginsburger with Bleacher Report, Paige, you’ve obviously spent all of your career so far with the Wings, can you tell us a little bit about the impact this organization has had on you?”

Paige smiles at the question, letting her brain skim through pages and pages of fond memories she has of time spent with this team. It might be time to move on but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of cherished moments. 

“Yeah um- this place has really shaped who I am as a person. Since day one, the front office, obviously it’s a different one to the one I came in with, they did a lot to make sure that I was comfortable. My teammates through the years have been incredible and I wouldn’t be the player I am today without them. And of course the fans you know, they always showed out for the team, for me. Always supported me in anyways and I hope that I was able to give back the love to them that they always gave to me,” she says, suddenly nostalgic for the team that had started it all. 

The next questions are similar in nature and Paige’s answer varies only in words but not substance. She feels herself start to settle into it, now fielding the expected questions about the Wings and Valkyries with an air of confidence. There are a couple questions about Azzi that make her heart thump, but that was to be expected. It’s a pretty brilliant story in the making, two MVPs who used to play on the same college team coming together. Talia had warned Paige in advance that there was no avoiding it. But for the most part the questions have an easy answer about how Azzi’s a brilliant player and she’s excited to play with her old friend again. That is until a familiar hand shoots up and all the tension that had previously dissipated, comes roaring back with a vengeance. 

“Olivia Reynolds with the Dallas Morning News, Paige, as others have said today, you and Azzi Fudd played together at UConn and you were best friends.” Olivia’s eyes glint viciously, “I mean it’s pretty well documented how hard you tried to recruit her to UConn. But despite being best friends, the two of you have been never seen hanging out, outside of games and formal events, unlike your other teammates that is-”

“Is there a point to this?” Paige asks, hands fisting in her lap as she tries to keep herself calm. 

Olivia smiles, sugary sweet, “I was just wondering if maybe there was some tension and how that would affect your on-court chemistry at the Valkyries?”

“There’s no tension,” Paige lies through gritted teeth, “we didn’t hang out because we live far apart. There isn’t much else to it. And even if there was, Azzi and I are professionals. We wouldn’t let anything off the court affect our goal to win.”

“You lived far apart before UConn too, but that didn’t seem to stop you guys. What changed?” Olivia presses.

“Time did. Our lives did. There’s nothing sensational here. It’s just a case of two people drifting apart,” Paige says and the fabrication feels heavy on her tongue. If only it really had been that simple. 

“But clearly not that much,” Olivia says, and Paige glances at the moderator, desperate for an intervention, “there were plenty of fan pictures of the two of you out getting ice cream with Azzi’s daughter. It seems like you’re already fitting into that Bay Area life-”

“I’m not hearing a question at the end of your sentence,” Paige hisses and she can practically already hear the scolding she’s going to get from Talia once her agent gets wind of how this press conference had gone. The entire media cohort is watching the exchange with wide eyes, no doubt questioning whether they were embarrassed or impressed by their colleague. Ice is mouthing something to Paige, probably something along the lines of please keep your shit together, but Paige is steaming. Really, she should have expected this. 

“Well if you’d let me finish,” Olivia snarls, the façade of innocence dropping, “even if the two of you have drifted, as you put it, clearly there’s still a relationship there. How big of a role did Azzi Fudd play in your choice to move to the Valkyries?”

Paige sucks in a deep breath, nails digging into her palm at the question, “Azzi is the best shooting guard in the country. That was her role in my decision to move to the Valkyries. I don’t know what else you’re trying to imply, but I want to play with her because we play well together. That’s it,” she stands up and there’s pin drop silence, “thank you all for coming but we’re done with this press conference. 

***

Paige is seething as she exits the media room, Ice hot on her heels trying to calm her down. The sane part of her knows she should head back to the makeup room or even to her car, instead she finds her feet carrying her in the direction of where she knows Olivia Reynolds will be, reviewing her press conference notes by the coffee machine like she always is. 

“What the actual fuck was that?” Paige spits as she comes to a halt in front of the reporter. 

“I know you think playing basketball is the only job in the world Paige, but that was a reporter doing her job,” Olivia says, her calm and composed voice only furthering Paige’s irritation. 

“Bull-fucking-shit.” Paige sneers, “that wasn’t a reporter out there, that was my ex-wife grilling me like we were back in fucking divorce court.”

Olivia cocks her head, “oh so you do remember who I am to you then?”

“Oliv-”

“Because if you did remember, I’d like to think you’d have the courtesy to at least personally tell me that you were moving to your,” she drops her voice, “ex-girlfriend’s team instead of letting me find out with the rest of the world. You don’t think you owed me that?”

“That’s what this is about?” Paige sighs, “Olivia we’ve been divorced for almost three years now, I don’t owe you-”

“You didn’t owe Azzi anything either,” Olivia whisper-yells, the calm in her voice replaced by the same anger that had tainted the last year of their marriage, “but when we first started dating, you kept us a secret for months. You wouldn’t even tell your fucking teammates cause you were so scared she’d find out,” her eyes drift towards Ice who looks like she wishes she’d made a different decision rather than following Paige out here, “you said she deserved to hear it from you but apparently I don’t-’

“I didn’t mean it like that Olivia. Look, I meant what I said up there. There’s nothing between- ”

“Spare me,” Olivia says, as she stuffs her notepad into her bag, “you can lie to all those other reporters out there about how all of this is a basketball decision. You can even lie to yourself if you want. But you can’t lie to me, not when I spent four years fighting to keep our relationship from getting crushed under whatever it is that Azzi is to you.”

***

It doesn’t matter how far Paige burrows her head into her pillows, she can’t seem to stop herself from hearing Olivia’s words reverberating through her ears. The two of them had done well at co-existing in their social circles after the divorce had been finalized. While no one could quite call them friends, they’d done a good job at being friendly, being able to converse and share an occasional drink when in their combined friend group. And if Paige is honest, she knows she’s fucked up, knows she probably did owe Olivia a call. But calling Olivia would have meant calling someone who would inevitably make Paige face the truth, just like she had today. The truth that, even with the deal Talia had concocted with the Liberty hanging in the background like a dark presence, the move to the Valkyries was about a lot more than just basketball for Paige. 

She’s so entrenched in her thought that she doesn’t bother checking who it is when the facetime rings, irritation seeping into her voice as she answers it, face still buried in her pillows, “WHAT?”

“Miss Buecks?” a tiny voice comes through the phone and for a second, Paige thinks she must be dreaming, until she finally lifts her head to look at her phone, and Stephie’s small face lights up the whole screen. And it’s like she can feel little hands on her shoulders, slowly unknotting her tightened muscles. 

“Stephie,” she breathes out, a sudden sense of serene calm washing over her previously tense body. 

“Hi Miss Buecks,” Stephie says happily before she squints at the screen, “you sleep weird.”

Paige laughs, “and why’s that?”

“You’re not wearing pajamas and it’s only seven. ‘Dults don’t sleep at seven,” Stephie says matter-of-factly. 

“It’s actually nine here,” Paige says, a little surprised by the time; she hadn’t realized she'd been moping in her bed for that long. Ice had forced her to get lunch together, not wanting to leave Paige alone after the encounter with Olivia. Once she’d finally gotten back to her apartment, Paige had flopped on her bed, taking out her frustrations on her poor pillow. 

“That’s not poss-ble,” Stephie scrunches her face, “Mama’s phone says it’s seven.”

“It’s seven in California, it’s nine in Texas,” Paige tries to explain though by the way Stephie’s looking at her, she thinks she’s probably just confusing the girl more, “how’d you figure out how to call me babe?”

Stephie gives her an exasperated look, “Miss Buecks I’m five. I know how to use facetime.”

“And does your Mama know you're facetiming me?” Paige asks, eyebrows raised.

“She’s in the shower,” Stephie whispers, grinning sheepishly. 

As if on cue, Azzi appears on the corner of the screen and Paige feels her mouth run dry. The darker skinned woman is clad in a light pink fluffy bathrobe that ends right above her knees, giving Paige the perfect view of her long, toned legs that seem to shimmer despite the shitty quality of the facetime. Rivulets of water cling to her neck, delicately cascading down the valley of her breasts before disappearing from sight. And Paige must be dehydrated because never has she wanted to taste a drop of liquid more than she does right now. 

“Stephie,” Azzi groans, as she walks towards the phone and Paige gulps, heart beating faster with every step the other woman takes, everything about her becoming clearer and clearer, “what did I say about using my phone.”

“Only in em-a-gencies,” Stephie recites, “but Mama I had an em-a-gency.”

Azzi tilts her head, eyebrows raised as she gives her daughter a knowing look, “and what was your emergency?”

“I really, really, really, this much” Stephie stretches out her hands as far as they’ll go,  really, really, really, miss Miss Buecks.”

Paige feels her heart flutter. Stephie’s words feel like a hand carefully pulling her out from under the pile of stress she’d been buried under the whole day. It’s like the little girl is pushing away the rubble pressing against her lungs, turning the rocks into dust with a light touch and Paige feels like she can finally breathe. 

“Sounds like a pretty big emergency to me,” she says, relishing the way Stephie’s face lights up at the admission, “cause I really, really, really miss you too Steph.”

“See Mama,” Stephie says, placing the phone against a wall so can place her hands on her hips and look up at Azzi with a pleased smirk. 

Azzi rolls her eyes before glaring at Paige, “you’re a bad influence on her.”

“I’m the best influence on her,” Paige argues, sending Stephie a conspiratorial wink, “just you wait Az, I’mma teach her all the good things.”

Something unreadable flashes across Azzi’s face before she’s back to looking at Paige with an unimpressed arched eyebrow, “I am not letting you corrupt my daughter Paige Bueckers.”

“We’ll see,” Paige says slowly and Azzi shakes her head before turning to Stephie. 

“Alright Stephie bean time to go brush your teeth. It’s almost bedtime babes,” she says with a stern look 

“But Mama-”

“No arguing, you have school tomorrow missy,” Azzi reminds the little girl and Paige can’t help but marvel at the mother that Azzi’s become. And it makes her heart ache for the fantasies she’d dreamed of when she was in her early twenties. She’d always known Azzi would be a great mother; Paige had just naively thought she’d be there alongside her too. 

“Can Miss Buecks stay on the phone till I fall asleep?” Stephie asks, peering up at Azzi with big doe eyes, “please Mama pleeeease.”

“I’m sure Miss Buecks has other things-”

“I don’t,” Paige cuts in far too enthusiastically, clearing her throat to get back some semblance of restraint as both mother and daughter turn to look at each other, “I don’t have anything to do tonight so I can stay till you fall asleep Stephie.”

“YAYY,” Stephie cheers enthusiastically while Azzi studies her with a weary look, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and then you can read me, my story Mama.”

With that, the little girl runs in the direction of what Paige can only assume is the bathroom, skipping with childlike joy as she sing-songs about something Paige can’t quite make out. 

“You know you don’t have to say yes to everything she asks right?” Azzi says slowly as she grabs her phone and sits on the couch. 

Paige shrugs, “I have time to stay.”

“Do you?” Azzi asks skeptically, “because from what I heard the Wings are having a little farewell party tonight, for you.”

Paige narrows her eyes, “and how exactly did you hear that?”

“I have connections.”

“You talked to Ice.”

“I talked to Ice,” Azzi concedes, “and I’m pretty sure you’re already an hour or so late for it.”

“Exactly. I’m already an hour late so why bother,” Paige says, sitting up so she can rest head against her headboard, “why were you talking to Ice?”

“I can’t talk to my friend?” Azzi asks slowly. 

“Of course you can but why specifically today?” Paige presses 

Azzi bites her lip, “I um- I watched your press conference today. You uh-” she averts her gaze, “you seemed really stressed at the end and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

A soft grin upturns Paige’s lips before she can stop it, “were you worried for me Fudd?”

“That’s not-” Azzi groans, “shut up.”

Paige smirks, “you were worried for me.”

“I was concerned for my future teammate," Azzi huffs, “besides,” her face hardens, “she was way out of line.”

Paige sighs at the implied mention of Olivia, “maybe but maybe I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi protests and that oh so familiar protective tone in her voice carves itself into every crevice of Paige’s heart, “no one deserves to be put on the spot like that. She was being unethical trying to dig into your personal life like that.”

“This is nice,” Paige says softly, unable to help herself. 

“What is?” 

“Seeing you get all defensive over me. It's nice to see you still care. I didn’t know if you still did.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second, gnawing at her bottom lip as she looks at Paige, “I’ve always cared Paige. And-” she hesitates as the tightrope beneath them wavers, “I’m always gonna care.”

There’s years worth of unsaid words lingering in the silence between them as they breach some unspoken rule they’d both inadvertently agreed to. And they both know that they shouldn’t be saying things like this to each other, that they’re teetering on the edge of falling into an abyss that has nothing but destruction at the bottom. But Azzi’s words feel like sunshine, like heat waves across her skin and Paige is so tired of feeling cold. 

Before either of them can say another word, Stephie comes back into the room, crawling into Azzi’s lap.

“I’m back,” she beams, completely unaware of the way the two adults are scrambling to act normal around her. 

“Here baby,” Azzi hands the phone to Stephie, “take Miss Buecks to your room. Mama’s gonna go change and then she’ll come read to you okay?”

“‘Kay Mama,” Stephie complies, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s cheek before running towards her room. For a second Paige’s screen is blurred in motion until Stephie fixes her again and Paige catches a glimpse of Stephie’s room, specifically the walls that are painted the perfect shade of Valkyrie purple. 

“I love your walls Stephie,” she compliments.

“They’re pu-ple,” Stephie exclaims, “that’s my favorite color.”

“First the ice-cream, now the color, you’re stealing all of my favorites kid,” Paige teases but she’s secretly pleased by this revelation. It’s dangerous how fast Stephie’s starting to whittle down Paige’s walls and build herself a permanent shelf in Paige’s cabinet of my people. 

“Can I tell you a secret Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, bringing her lips closer to the phone. 

Paige smiles, “of course you can.”

“I think Mama misses you too,” Stephie says softly and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat, “I heard her tell Nanna on the phone.”

“Can I tell you a secret Stephie?” Paige lowers her voice, leaning into her phone. 

“‘Course you can Miss Buecks.”

Paige swallows as the admission falls from her lips, “I really miss your Mama too.”

I miss her always and I think I’ll miss her forever. 

“What are you the two of you whispering about,” Azzi’s voice cuts in as she tucks herself next to Stephie, a children’s book in her hand. 

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says immediately, winking at Paige through the phone. 

“Yeah,” Paige echoes, ignoring her erratic heartbeat, “nothing Azzi.”

Azzi looks between the both of them, clearly aware she’s being left out of something, but doesn’t push further. Instead she flips open the book, pulls Stephie closer into her arms and starts reading. If anyone were to ask Paige later, she wouldn’t have the faintest idea about a single word in that damn book. Because as Azzi’s soothing voice begins to lull Stephie to sleep, and the younger girl, despite her yawns, holds the phone up so the blonde can be included in every second of it, Paige feels herself being pulled into a dream she has no right to dream. She dreams of being in Stephie’s purple bedroom. She dreams of her and Azzi lying against Stephie’s lilac bedspread, their hands entwined in the middle over Stephie’s little body. She dreams of a forever that she’d long forsaken.

[hyuckmov]

haechan — gold-skinned, eager baby   read part 2 here <3

'cause he's so pretty when he goes down on me gold-skinned, eager baby 

haechan x fem!reader 7.2k, smut, minors dni, a bit of fluff, basically haechan loves your boobs. not proofread i was too excited. content: chest/boobs/nipples fixation if i ever seen one, consensual somnophilia but not really because one of them is awake, a little bit of teasing and manipulating i guess, unprotected sex, masturbating with a bra (m), shower sex, titty fucking, a little mention of dumbification, dom-ish haechan turned desperate needy (and dare i say, a little bit subby...?) haechan...ngl reader doesn't get to cum a lot this is mostly about haechan a/n: thank you all for waiting i really hope this lives up to your expectations or it's at least a little hot until the call with mark, you hadn’t really noticed at all. 

“dude he’s like…fucking obsessed with your boobs.” mark insists. over video-call, there’s a slight lag between his voice and his actions, but there’s no mistaking the sincerity on his face. 

“are you sure?” you ask, skeptically. “he’s never mentioned it to me at all.” 

mark laughs. “he said he doesn’t want to seem like a perv, so he never brings it up with you.” tilting his head to the side, “i guess that’s why he keeps telling me about it. you should do something about it for your anniversary or something.” 

haechan was a careful boyfriend. you appreciated the way his hands never lingered excessively on your waist even as he was a touchy person. you appreciated how, even if you had just come out from your shower in your towel — hair dripping wet, the material barely skimming the tops of your thighs, he kept his voice as steady as possible while handing you a robe. you appreciated the effort it took for him to keep his palms planted firmly on the bed above your head even as he made love to you. even as you grabbed at him incessantly, his fingers would go white, twisting in the sheets as he held himself back. 

and yet, something in you wanted to see him lose control completely. 

“yeah,” you breathe out, slowly. “i should.” 

happy anniversary, haechan. 

x

you start out small. you just need to see if mark might be onto something. 

“haechan, what should i wear to dinner?” 

haechan had been hyping up this date night for weeks and weeks. you know he researched the restaurant extensively, reading guides and blog posts about which wine to pair with each course. and for the past 30 minutes while you got ready, he sat patiently in the living room on his phone, sitting carefully so his button down shirt and slacks didn’t wrinkle. it was one of the things you found most endearing about him — how much he wanted things to be perfect even as the two of you got close to your second year of being a couple. you just wanted things to be perfect for him too. 

now, at your question, he wanders into your room, an easy smile on his face already. crossing over to where you stand in front of your mirror, he kisses your cheek and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying from side to side. 

“that looks good, baby,” he says, sincerely. “you wanna head out now?”

“wait,” you untangle yourself from him and he steps away politely. “i’ll give you another option.” 

grabbing at the hem of your black turtleneck, a purposefully high collared choice, you tug it off you as quick as you could. you take a quick glance at the mirror, and sure enough haechan has averted his eyes at the prospect of seeing you topless. staring resolutely at the floor, you think you can almost see a red begin to tint his cheeks. 

“tell me when you’re done,” he mumbles, and you want to tilt his head up and make him look at you in the nice lacy bra you’d picked out, but you hold back. you promised you were going to start with something more subtle. 

and so you pull on a tight cropped cardigan with a low dipping neckline — one that hugs and accentuates your chest really nicely. doing up the buttons as quickly as you could, making sure it was just the right tightness, you tap him on the shoulder. 

“done.” 

observing him closely through the mirror, you see how his eyes jump instinctively to your chest, and then to your face, before they gravitate downwards again and settle into what is certainly a stare. almost as if he couldn’t resist. 

and were you imagining things, or was he breathing a little harder than before?

“haechan?” you prompt, and you bite back a smile when you see him jolt a little out of his daze, blinking rapidly. “thoughts?” 

“this one,” he blurts out. almost comically with how he can’t take his eyes off you, he darts out his tongue to wet his lips before repeating himself. “this one…it’s…you…” he swallows. “you should wear this one to dinner.” 

“it’s not too tight?” frowning exaggeratedly, you adjust your bra such that your boobs shift around a little under the top, squeezing them together. 

haechan hesitates. “actually…”, fuck he thinks to himself. because if you wear this to the restaurant, everyone will be able to see you. and he’ll be forced to pretend not to notice all throughout the meal. how the fuck, he thinks, as he watches you adjust your top again, am i supposed to think about wine pairings now?

“yes?” you revel in the way his eyes have glazed over entirely. 

“the first top.” he nods, almost as if convincing himself. “the turtleneck’s good.”

“why?” 

pause. “black looks better on you.” he slots his hands into his pockets, bouncing on his toes. “if you’re ready i’ll get the door.” 

“okay, you go on first.” you think you see relief on his face as he speedwalks out the door. 

twirling on the spot, thanking your lucky stars for mark’s tip-off, you swap out your black cardigan in exchange for the turtleneck, and head out to join your boyfriend at the doorway. 

x

it was exciting — thinking of ways to test haechan, little by little. it wasn’t that he wasn’t a passionate boyfriend, or that he was too shy. he had quite the dirty mouth if the atmosphere ever called for it, and he never attempted to hide his sounds of pleasure if you felt particularly good wrapped around him. but there was no denying that some part of him was always in control. 

because there was one version of haechan, who was something like this: 

“haechan?” 

he made a soft sound, turning to look at you from where you were seated on the other end of the couch. nights like these — with the television light illuminating your faces, haechan cozy and warm in an hoodie and sweatpants, you in one of his old shirts, with just enough of your bodies touching to give each other space and affection, — these were the nights you always felt a little more touch-starved than usual. and your boyfriend was just an arm’s length away, ready to love you in any way you ask.  

“baby?” 

you extend your arms out, reaching for him. “kisses please.” 

smiling, he reaches out and gently pulls you into his lap. your face turned towards him, the two of you beam at each other as haechan cups your face tenderly. dipping his head down so your noses touch, he goes a little cross-eyed as he basks in the feeling of your skin against his, his gaze shining with adoration. 

“okay,” he whispers, as he captures your lips in a sweet, patient, kiss. and another. and another, eyes fluttering shut to focus on the feeling, his hands never moving from the way he holds your face. afterwards, he wraps you in your arms so you can rest your head against his chest, and each time you raise your head up he kisses you indulgently. 

and when, as this progresses, your hands begin to wander purposefully to the strings of his sweatpants, he swats them away softly – the tiniest bit of flush on his cheeks as his heartbeat quickens, flustered.

“just kissing, baby,” he presses his lips on your forehead to emphasise his point. “just want to be close to you.” 

and then there was -

“haechan,” you whine. 

his head thrown back, he at least makes the effort to focus his eyes on you. but his body doesn’t stop moving, his grip on your waist bruising as he fucks up into you with more fervor. 

“yeah?” he mumbles. 

“kiss me?” 

his head snaps to you, and the side of his mouth quirks up. “hold that thought.” 

and then he’s flipping the two of you over. still inside you, he hikes your legs up and wraps them around his waist. your arms go to his shoulders instinctively, while his move upwards to cage you in. and then he goes still. 

“beg for it.” looking way too pleased with himself, he swivels his hips in slow motions, watching your face carefully to find your sweet spot, the angle that will drive you insane. he knows when he’s found it: your body shudders, your nails dig into his back and he hisses with pain. 

“haechan, please…” you whine, as he starts to pull out of you, only to slam right into that one spot inside you that makes you see stars. surrendering yourself to him, you ramble on, “fuck, please, touch me, please…” 

“what did you say, princess?” he buries his face in your neck, the way you squeeze around him and the obscene sounds of how wet you are beginning to get to him, as he begins to chase his own high. 

his hot breath on your neck, his lips brushing against skin but never sucking, his hands hovering beside you but not touching. 

control. boundaries. lines which you would like to see blurred, and crossed. 

x

you knew he would be having a long day at work. he had told you the exact timings of his most important meetings, his lunch break, consults with clients, and then the time and duration of his less important meetings. 

so nothing was a mistake when you sent him the photo of you at 3.45pm sharp, right at the last 15 minutes of his least important meeting of the day. 

because you were nothing if not considerate. 

haechan had been bored, sitting in his swivel chair, trying to maintain eye contact with the zoom conference but also scrolling on his phone when the investors rambled on for just a little too long. 

y/n: image

thinking little of it, maybe you needed an opinion on an outfit, he glanced at his laptop one more time before unlocking his phone and opening his chat with you. 

and he freezes. 

because on the screen, is a photo of you. specifically, from the waist up, wearing one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned almost all the way and pushed open so he could see the very pretty, very lacy, barely-there bra you were wearing. one that was practically transparent with its mesh and lace, your nipples in stiff peaks poking out through the material. the sizing of the flimsy bra making your breasts look even fuller, even softer, than usual. 

fuck. 

he stares at your photo, lips slightly parted. he swallows. he swallows again. embarrassingly, his slacks begin to feel a little tight. fingers uncoordinated and slow, he types out the only response he can think of. 

haechan: hi 

haechan: did you send this to the wrong person? 

while he waits for your response, he clicks back to the photo. he can’t help it, what if you decide to unsend it? the thought flits through his mind, and hurriedly, he goes to save it just in case it didn’t download to his phone. 

y/n: babe you’re my boyfriend who else would i send this too? 

haechan: oh 

haechan: right

he can’t help it. the meeting gone straight from his mind, and your conversation with him slowly making less and less sense, the only thing he can think of doing is zooming in on the photo. deep down, he’s always been obsessed with your chest, but he always felt that it was a weird thing to bring up. you’ve never expressed a fixation with any particular body part of his, and he feels wrong for all the times he sneaks glances at you: be it from over your top, or when you’re midway through changing. he would never dream of asking to touch, but god he wants to. he doesn’t even know what he wants to do with your boobs other than to see, and to touch. and here you are, handing him his first opportunity to act on the former. 

so he stares, and he stares. wildly he considers setting this photo as his homescreen. when the meeting ends, he slams his laptop quickly shut. 

he was going to have to think of a way to pretend this didn’t affect him the way it did. 

x

“needed you all day, baby,” he groaned. haechan had just gotten home, spent about 5 minutes upholding the facade that he could spend a quiet evening just chatting with you after the events of the day, before he’d finally had enough and tugged you into his lap to suck on your tongue. gasping, his body shivering with need, he separated from you just long enough to make out the words “need you. right now”.

indulging him, you kissed him back just as fiercely. “hold on,” you say, as you clamber up from the couch and cross over to the dining table. teasingly, you place a hand on the tabletop, leaning on it as you smile. 

“bend me over?” 

still slumped into his seat, haechan pokes his tongue into his cheek in thought. “why don’t you show me how you want it first?” he challenges.

diligently, you bend yourself over the edge of the table, propping yourself up on your elbows. wiggling your ass a few times in the air, and trying to ignore the fear that he’ll laugh at you, you look over at him expectantly, doing everything but batting your lashes. 

haechan does laugh at you, but not in literal amusement. the dark sound of derision he lets out shoots straight to your core, as he gets up almost lazily, strolling over to you. 

“baby wants it from the back?” 

standing behind you, he runs his fingertips down your spine, stroking your back. it would almost be a tender action if not for the fact that he takes his hand away only to place it between your spread legs. 

sliding your pants together with your panties down your legs, he continues to kiss your shoulders as he begins running his fingers up and down your slit, eliciting a whine from you. 

“haechan…please don’t tease,” you plead, as he places a gentle pressure at your clit. “need you so bad too.” 

“shhh…” he coos, continuing to make soft clicking noises as he circles his digits around your entrance. “i’ll take care of you. just need to stretch you out first, okay?” 

slowly, he scissors his fingers inside of you, pushing them against your walls. wet sounds fill the still air in the kitchen, mixed with your whispers and his continued efforts to comfort you the best he knew how. losing yourself in pleasure, the ache in your belly begins to build, your legs shaking as your hips begin to buck against him subconsciously. 

“getting excited?” he teases, removing his hands from your core. you whine, a high and embarrassing sound, but you can’t bring yourself to care beyond the disappointment at how empty it feels without his warmth. 

“wait for me, princess.” you hear the sound of haechan fumbling with his belt, the clink of it hitting the floor. and then, you feel something thick and heavy press between your legs, stroking up and down your soaked slit. “first time trying this for me too,” he mumbles, and in the cloudy haze of your mind you register that this truly was the first time haechan was fucking you from the back. 

pulling your hips towards him with a slight roughness, he eases into you. the stretch is delicious, the new angle seemingly allowing him to go deeper, and he lets out a low groan at how your walls seem to suck him in. he thrusts a few times experimentally, making you gasp. which in turn makes him still.

‘everything okay, baby?” 

“yes,” you breathe. when he still doesn’t move, you wiggle your hips again, trying to squeeze around him. “please, please haechan i need you to move-” 

“i got you.” rolling his hips with a slow and steady pace, haechan holds your sides gently. but something about it feels off to even you: there’s something not quite right with the way he’s almost quiet, the desperation that started out this entire night seemingly evaporated. 

haechan continues for only a minute more before he pulls out. 

“i’m sorry, but fuck this,” he all but spits. grabbing your hips roughly, which makes you yelp in surprise, he flips you over and pushes you further up the tabletop. you look up at him — his hair mussed up, his chest heaving, a new aggression to him as he pushes your shirt up to expose your chest. 

bingo. 

hiking your legs up so they hook around his waist, he rams back into you. your back arches with how full you feel, the blunt head of his cock dragging against your walls as he fucks into you. hard. unable to control himself, his mouth practically hangs open as he pants, moans spilling from his mouth easily. 

“need,-” he starts, before quickening his pace even further. “needed to see,-” a hand drops one of your legs, and moves to your back to unclasp your bra. shoving it up so it no longer covers your breasts, a high whine tears from the back of his throat as he sees how each thrust makes your breasts bounce.

something clicks in your head. some mixture of the adrenaline, and how sexy haechan always made you feel judging by how desperate he could get around you, boosted your confidence tenfold. 

bringing your hands to your chest, you cup your breasts with your palms and give them a firm squeeze. the lewdness of it coupled with the stimulation making you arch your back, pushing you into him. 

and haechan cums.  

x

later, with his arms draped around you sleepily, you shift a little in his hold so he opens his eyes to look at you. “about just now…” haechan nods, letting you know you can continue. “so you don’t like it when you can’t see me?” you whisper, not wanting to break the silence and the tenderness that always filled the room on late nights like these. 

he hesitates. “i love everything i do with you” he says, quietly and sincerely. a hand comes up to brush your hair out of your eyes. “you know you’re already perfect to me, right?” 

the comment makes you warm up inside. love was so easy for haechan, and he never failed to remind you of how much he loved you all the time. 

“i know.” you snuggle closer to him. “but i just want to know when it feels just as good for you as it feels for me.” 

he hums in agreement. “maybe…” he bites his lip as he picks out the words in his head. “i think i just like to face you as we’re doing it. i like it when you…” suddenly shy, he nuzzles his face into the pillow a little so the rest of his sentence comes out muffled. “when you ride me, or when i’m on top of you.”

deciding to tease him a little, you add, “and the thing i did with my boobs…?” 

nervously, he blinks at you. “what?” 

“haechan, you came when i started playing with my chest.” 

“i j-just liked seeing you make yourself feel good,” he sits up, flustered. “i don’t-that’s not why i…” 

“okay, okay.” you get up too, leaning against the headboard. reaching out to pat him on the cheek, you feel warmth on your fingertips and decide not to push things further.  

“i just want you to know that if you wanted to try anything, you can just bring it up.” 

“i don’t want…i don’t want to try anything…” he mumbles. in the moonlight, you can see how he’s turned away from you, staring at the clock on your bedside table. 

and suddenly, you know exactly what you want to do. 

“or you can try it when i’m asleep.” 

confusedly, he turns around and blinks at you. “what?” 

“i trust you. i give you full permission to touch me in my sleep. whatever you want.” 

he gapes at you, speechless. you wonder if he’s going to protest again, you wonder if you pushed things too far. 

but something in your proposition must have stirred something in him, because eventually, he settles on asking…

“are you sure?” 

you reach over and take his hand to soothe him. “i’m sure.”

x

“has haechan mentioned anything?” 

you’re videocalling mark again. it had been a full week since you invited haechan to basically do whatever he wanted to you — a full week of staying up late and feeling him slide into bed behind you, waiting for what felt like hours. the most he did was maybe pull you towards him to cuddle, but he always did that. 

but it was also a myriad of little things you began to notice in that week. the way he would kiss you a little harder on days you walked around the house without a bra on. how he liked to hug you with his arms pressed against your upper back, pushing you into him. 

and the little things you began to do instead: wearing lower cut tops around the house, bending over so he could catch an eyeful of your cleavage. but every night, your boyfriend still lay still behind you, and you were beginning to think you had truly pushed things too far.

marks hums in thought. “not really.” he pauses. “actually, he doesn’t even talk about your boobs anymore.” 

“he doesn’t?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing. 

“nope.” mark sighs in relief. “i didn’t think the day would ever come. did you finally let him act on it or something?” 

“not really,” you grumble. 

“maybe he’s just marvelling at the freedom he has on which to love on your boobs now,” mark assures you. “i’m sure he’ll figure out what to do soon.” a pause. “sorry, is it just me or is it absurd that i’m comforting you about the fact that surely haechan will be obsessed with your boobs again?” 

“it’s a little absurd,” you concede. “am i setting feminism back by 100 years with my attempts to seduce him?”

“a little bit,” he nods, leaning back in his desk chair. “maybe just 50 years, though.”  

x 

you’re in bed, listening to the sounds of haechan busying himself putting away cutlery in the kitchen drawers. the sound of the tap running when he brushes his teeth and washes his face, the light sounds of his bottles of moisturizer and cream being capped and put away. the low hum of his voice, raspy but sweet as honey, as he mumbles a tune to himself. the click of the light switch as the room is bathed in moonlight. 

your eyes firmly closed, you feel yourself begin to doze off — if he hadn’t made a move, he wasn’t likely going to all of a sudden, right? vaguely, you hear him pad over to the bed in his slippers. 

and then he stops. 

unlike all the other nights before, he doesn’t get in immediately. even with your eyes closed, you can feel him standing there, breathing, taking in the look of you in the moonlight. 

“baby?” haechan calls, softly. 

you stay silent.

“are you still awake?” 

he reaches out a hand, and shakes you gently. you make your body go as limp as possible, keeping your breathing steady. 

“y/n?” he tries again. still nothing. 

after another pause, the bed dips as his weight settles in behind you. minutes pass, before you feel his hands come to your waist. they remain there for a while, and you can almost imagine him in the dark — pupils blown out, biting his lip. just wondering. after what feels like years, the sheets rustle as his arms wrap around you, and he pulls you into his chest. 

slowly, incrementally, you feel his hands begin to slide under your shirt. his fingertips are cool against your hot skin, fluttering with a slight nervousness, and you know it’s because he’s afraid to wake you with heavier touches. higher and higher up, his palms snake their way past your stomach, until they reach the underside of your breasts. 

another pause. 

and then, his hands slide up, the drag of it heavier this time, until he has a boob held carefully in each palm. 

you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat thundering in your chest. there’s something about all of this occurring in the dark, and in complete silence, which makes you hyper-attuned to him: the slight twitch of his fingers from his nervousness, his erratic breathing on the back of your neck. 

you feel him tense his fingers a few times, if anything, getting a feel of the soft flesh. and then, he carefully tightens his hold, squeezing each breast cupped in his palm — lightly, almost guiltily at first. as if he can’t believe he’s really doing this. you can hardly believe he’s really doing this. 

“fuck”, you hear him breathe. he squeezes harder.

his movements gentle, and barely noticeable with how slow they are, he begins to roll each 

breast in his palm. “so soft…” he breathes, and bounces them experimentally, feeling them move under his touch.

trailing his fingers inwards, he touches your nipples lightly, before rolling them between index finger and thumb, letting out a groan when he finds them grow stiff and hard. feeling around your areolae, he pinches at the skin. 

when he shifts behind you, you can feel his hard cock pressed against your lower back. 

his soft mutters and swears make you want to flip over and force his head into your chest, where you know he’ll only do better with his lips and teeth and tongue. but something about his warm palms, his fingers pushing and kneading and rolling, swiping in your cleavage, are so calming and loving that it starts to lull you to sleep. 

the last thing you register is his one of his hands leaving your chest, and the wet sounds of haechan fucking into his fist. 

x

haechan thinks he’s lost his mind. 

he used to be able to hide it. he used to be fine with glancing at you, habitually flickering his eyes to your chest when you would walk into the room or snuggling up to him. but now he’s totally fucked, because he thinks he’s developed some sort of addiction. 

he can’t remember the last time he had fallen asleep without reaching over to touch your breasts, and thumb at your nipples. his mind keeps trailing back to thoughts of going further, of kissing your chest, of sucking on your pretty tits and watching your nipples stiffen and harden because of him. 

and he thinks he’s beyond help when he finds himself standing over your open drawer, feeling himself grow hard as he bends down to run his fingers over your collection of bras, brassiere, and lingerie. 

because admittedly, ever since mark tipped you off, you had been stocking up on the pretty fabrics, testing out padded and non-padded ones, choosing colors you know haechan liked to see you in, materials like mesh and lace and cotton. 

his fingers rub against a soft, satin-y material, and he pulls it out. it’s light blue and flimsy, opening in the front, and from the way he’s memorized you through touch alone he knows it will barely cover your chest. it was a piece that would tease him more than anything, and he imagines the satin rubbing against his face, you pushing your chest into him as he unclasps it, watching the fabric fall away from your pretty breasts as you expose yourself to him. 

he can’t help himself, as he falls backwards onto the bed, scrambling so he can sit against the headboard. tugging his pants down with a movement that is too practiced, feeling his hard cock slap up against his stomach. too hurried to get any lube or lotion, scared you’ll come back from grocery shopping to find him like this, he spits into his hand and immediately starts fisting his length, the other still clinging onto your bra. he lets out a sigh of relief, his pants slowing down as he strokes himself. 

spreading the satin out on the bed, he lets his eyes fall to it as his hand speeds up. he wonders how he can request for you to wear it, and send him a picture. maybe he could put it at the very top of your pile of underwear, so you would see it. the color of it would look so pretty against your skin, would look so pretty in your mouth, would look so pretty if he… 

and then he’s grabbing the material, still soft and silky to touch, and now he’s stroking his cock with it, and the feeling makes him gasp, his hips fucking up into his fist, legs planted on the bed so he can thrust his hips up harder. the light blue, delicate material, looks obscene against the pink of his cock. 

he teases a finger over his slit and he whines, higher than he had ever heard himself. his chest heaving, he imagines you finding him, sitting on the bed, fucking himself into your bra, practically cumming at the thought of nuzzling his face into your boobs. he thinks of what you would say. 

or maybe you would get on top of him like you do, splitting yourself open on his cock as your tits bounce with each of your movements. 

he finishes to the thought of that, cumming straight into the material of your bra. the shame doesn’t hit him until after, when he’s trying to wash the stains out of it, a bright red that starts in his stomach and burns through his neck, cheeks, and ears. he’s silent all through dinner, faces away from you at night. 

but he can’t deny the thought that he wanted to do it again. and maybe all the other things he fantasized about. but how would he ever be able to tell you now?

x

the morning of your anniversary was when you decided this had to stop. all the teasing had begun to backfire, because having haechan’s hands on you every night — especially on the nights you had trouble sleeping, were making you need him badly. and he didn’t have a clue. 

haechan had woken up, kissed you on the cheek and wished you a happy anniversary, before heading to the kitchen. sitting on the edge of your bed, you thought hard about what exactly you should tell him — whether you should bring up the fact that mark was the reason all of this even happened, if you should tell him you had been teasing him, or that you had been awake on all those nights. 

suddenly, it seemed to add up to quite a lot of manipulation and lying. you felt a bit nervous. 

walking to the kitchen, you enter just in time to see him finish preparing the ingredients for the romantic breakfast he had planned. sweeping them into bowls lined up neatly on the countertop, he turns and smiles at the sight of you, standing there timidly in the entryway. 

“what’s wrong, love?” he comes over to you, draping his arms over your hips. “is everything okay?” 

swaying slightly, you look into his eyes, so full of love, and know that you can’t keep anything from him. and also that you weren’t brave enough to do it right then and there. “haechan?” 

“mmhm?” 

you hesitate. “i’m… i’m going to take a shower.” 

laughing slightly, he tilts his head to the side. “o…kay?” 

“do you want to join me?” you say in a breath.

you watch as the words hit him. slowly, he blinks at you, before he swallows, his throat bobbing. “really? that won’t make you uncomfortable?” 

“yes,” you breathe. “i want to.” 

it takes a few more assurances from you before haechan agrees, holding on to your hand as the two of you step into the bathroom. he waits for you to undress first, looking away politely as you get in the shower, before he undresses and steps in after you. as the hot water cascades over you, the steam beginning to make the air heavy, he kisses your shoulder gently before turning you around so your back is facing him. 

“i’ll wash your back for you,” he says, kindly. you hear him uncap the shower gel, and slowly start to scrub at your back lightly with the loofah. sometime between turning around and him washing your back, he’s turned off the water, and there aren’t any sounds except for foam and soap moving against skin. 

“haechan?” 

“yes?” 

you turn around. haechan lifts the loofah away from your skin and looks at you, curiously. 

“what’s wrong?” 

“wash my front for me.” 

he bites his lip, before nodding. 

“okay.” 

he starts at your shoulders, down to your collarbones, working small circles into your skin. when he reaches the top of your chest, where the swell of your breasts begins, he hesitates again, lifting the loofah from your skin so his hand hovers between the two of you. you decide that now was a good a time as ever. 

“haechan…” you reach out and take his hand. and he looks so nervous, his breaths coming in quicker, his eyes darting between yours and your interlocked hands, that it makes you want to delay for just a little bit longer. 

“haechan, you do know that it feels good when you touch my chest, don’t you?” 

“what?” he stares at you. he seemed like he was hardly breathing. 

“i may have been awake a few of the nights in these past two weeks,” you say, slowly, before looking him in the face again. “you left me feeling really needy, you know that?” 

“sorry,” he apologises reflexively, before stopping as the words register in his head. “so, it…doesn’t make you…uncomfortable?” 

“no.” 

slowly, he nods, and then he adds, “you’re not weirded out?” 

“no,” you shake your head patiently. “it’s the opposite of all that. i love it when you touch me there.” 

“yeah?” he breathes, and you watch as his eyes darken just slightly, his chest falling and rising at a slightly quicker rate. and then he’s dropping the loofah, his hands going to your waist as he kisses you, hard. backing you up against the shower wall, he continues to kiss you feverishly as his hands go to the slope of your shoulders, trailing down your front until they cup your breasts, the movement so practiced and fluid that you don’t have the time to catch your breath. 

“always,” he gasps, “wanted to do this,” he moans into your mouth as he plays with your nipples, stroking them, his hands still slippery with soap. 

his movements jerky and disjointed, he turns the water back on so that it runs over the two of you, dousing your chest with warm water so that it’s slippery to touch, and if possible they feel even squishier and softer in his hold. groaning, he pushes his head into your neck as he squeezes them in his firm grip. 

“haechan,” you whine, his hands on you, and the desperation in his rough actions making you need him even more. 

he doesn’t bother to respond, shoving his knee between your legs to knock them apart and letting you grind on his thigh. its the way the movement is meant to placate you, as if he was too busy with your breasts to even pay attention to you, that makes it even more satisfying to grind down on him. 

“can i,” he gasps, breaking away from you. somehow already fucked out even though all he’s done is touch you, he pleads with you with his eyes. unable to catch his breath, he stutters out, “c-can i please, please, suck them?” 

you curse, but he seems to take it negatively. gulping, he begins to move away from you, his hands trembling, but your desperation overtakes you. 

grabbing his head by his hair, you pull his face towards your chest. and now it’s your turn to beg. 

“please,” you rasp, and that’s all you have to say because immediately his lips latch onto your right nipple, a whine sounding from him high and drawn out. swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, his other hand goes to your neglected breast, rolling the other nipple with his thumb and forefinger. all the while, his hips grind mindlessly, his hard cock rubbing against your upper thigh, spilling precum all over your skin that’s washed away just as quickly. 

haechan is in seventh heaven. he thinks he could spend forever like this, suckling on your tits, fucking into your thighs, listening to your pretty gasps and sighs. all the embarrassment from before has melted away, and all that’s left is his desire to touch and to taste, knowing that it brought you as much pleasure as it did for him. 

“eager baby,” you coo affectionately, trying to keep your voice level. with a feeling of elation, watching him grind against your skin and suckle at you as if he was a baby, you realise that you’ve done it: he’s lost all semblance of control. “do you think you could cum like this?” 

haechan moans, and the sound is beautifully crude as it echoes against the bathroom tiles. open-mouthed and panting, he whines again as he switches to another breast, both hands leaving your chest in favor of tugging at his neglected cock. 

and suddenly, you know just what he needs. 

“stop,” you tell him, but it’s not convincing enough — the sight of him, and stimulation from your chest, affecting you way too much. he ignores you, continuing to slobber over you, licking at the crevice between your boobs. 

“stop,” you insist, pushing him away this time. even as he breaks apart from you, his movements halting, his eyes are still trained on your breasts, watching the streams of water slide down them, dripping off of you, as if in a trance. 

reaching behind him to turn off the water, you open the shower door. haechan blinks a few times, the dissipating steam slowly clearing the air of the tension, and clearing the fog in his head too. 

“y/n,” he swallows. “i need you, please-” 

“you’ll have me,” you assure him, grabbing a towel as you lead him out of the en-suite bathroom, and over to your bed. “i just know you’ll really like this, so trust me, okay?” 

“okay,” he breathes, coming to stand between your legs as you sit on the edge of the bed. 

“and-” you point at him. “you need to calm down, okay?” 

looking wounded, haechan practically whimpers, reaching for your chest. 

“it’s not that i don’t like you eager,” you say, hurriedly. “i just want you to enjoy this for longer, okay?” 

he nods. 

a smile tugs at your lips. is this how he usually felt like? watching you dumb and desperate for him? 

“words,” you tease. 

“okay,” he says softly. “i’ll try.” 

“good job, baby,” you reach up to pat him on the cheek, before turning to grab a bottle of lotion that always stood on your bedside table. lying on your back, you motion for him to come over to you. he hovers obediently, sitting on his heels. 

uncapping the lotion, you take one of his hands and squeeze out a generous amount onto his palm. 

“spread it out over my chest,” you tell him, patiently. his lips part, and he’s about to surge towards you, so you place a hand on his arm. “slowly.” 

he swallows. he takes a breath. and then he’s spreading the lotion onto his palms, and as he promised, he slowly places them on your chest and begins to apply it onto your skin. his eyes glaze over as he swipes them under your boobs, rubbing into your cleavage, smearing it in circular motions closer to your nipples. even though you enjoy his touch, and you know he’s enjoying himself too, you motion for him to stop. 

slowly, carefully, you place both hands on the sides of your boobs. haechan’s eyes widen almost comically, and you look at him sternly, reminding him to keep it together. you squeeze them together, creating a tight passage between them where your cleavage is. 

“okay,” you breathe. “now fuck them.” 

haechan’s eyes, which have been fixating on your chest the whole time, flicker up to yours in confusion. 

“baby,” you try again, “here. in between my boobs.” 

haechan had never seemed to hear of the concept. finding the words, he splutters out, “what? how? do i really-” he stares at you, again, before the arousal seems to wind him over and he shuffles up to straddle your stomach. you see his thighs trembling as his large hands cover yours, squeezing your breasts together with more force. the blunt head of his cock makes contact your boobs, and he whimpers, before slotting it in the valley of your breasts, and thrusting forwards. 

you remove your hands, seeming to give him total control, when really he’s lost it all completely. 

his mouth hangs open as he lets out moan after moan, thrusting harder and harder into the tight passage. “fuck,” he gasps, going to stroke your nipples as he raises himself slightly, the need to fuck your tits harder and faster driving his hips forward and making him almost lose balance. strings of curses and nonsensical rambles fall from his puffy lips as he chases his high, wanting to enjoy it for longer but also wanting to cum. 

the sight of him, flushed and panting, holding onto your chest as if for dear life, is enough to satiate you for a little while, but soon the wetness between your thighs and throbbing of your clit feels too much to handle on your own.

“baby,” you breathe, “do you want to-” 

but at the petname, haechan lets out one high whine, and cums — all over your chest, up to your neck and chin and some even dribbling onto your face. all the while, he continues to fuck into your chest, until the stimulation is too much for him and he falls back on his heels, needing to get away. 

there’s a pause. 

his heaves and pants filling the room, he sits on the bed resting on his elbows. you’re a little winded too, but you don’t know what from. it takes him a while to calm down, even after you clean yourself up and pull him towards you to cuddle, him laying a hand on your boob the entire time. 

finally, his head seems to clear and he comes back to himself. looking at you carefully, he furrows his brow. 

“so that day with the turtleneck…” 

“yeah,” you say, feeling a little shy. you can’t believe he remembered something so far back. 

“and the photo of you in the bra…” 

“i thought you’d like it,” you offer, and he laughs at that. before he pauses, and really looks at you. 

“and you haven’t cum at all today, haven’t you sweetheart?” 

“not yet,” you breathe. 

happy fucking anniversary.

taglist: @matchahyuck , @kpopwh0r3 read part 2 here <3

[babydollmarauders]

IN A BOX — TREVOR ZEGRAS AND JAMIE DRYSDALE

trevor zegras x fem!reader x jamie drysdale

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which Trevor and Jamie do the ‘dick in a box’ joke to their fuck buddy, leading to a threesome

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, threesome, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected), degradation. (2.7k words)

notes: welcome to day 9 of the 12 days of kinkmas! this is the first threesome i’ve ever written, and it features everyone’s favorite dynamic duck duo! this starts out jokey and it makes me laugh ngl.

i’ve never claimed i was smart.

if i were smart, i probably wouldn’t have started sleeping with two of my best friends.

i probably wouldn’t have agreed to their friends-with-benefits arrangement.

and i most certainly, wouldn’t have had my expectations so high when they claimed they had christmas gifts for me.

yet, here i am. sat on Trevor and Jamie’s couch for the past fifteen minutes, a rapidly cooling peppermint hot cocoa clutched in my hands, and a sneaking suspicion that they do not, in fact, have christmas gifts for me.

“guys, are you coming?” i shout in the direction of the stairs, my voice bouncing off the walls of the house.

i can hear Trevor’s wheezy laugh carry down the steps. a mischievous lilt hidden in.

“we will be soon!” he calls back and i huff, slumping further into the couch cushions.

my flight back home for the holidays is tomorrow, the 23rd, and the boys had claimed they have presents they want to give me before i leave. i arrived armed with gifts for each of them, and after they opened them, they had stated they just had to grab my presents from their rooms; but i’m beginning to think they’ve lied to me.

“okay, close your eyes!” i sigh out a ‘finally!’ at the sound of Jamie’s words, squeezing my eyes shut.

“are they closed?” Trevor snickers, sounding closer now.

“yes, Trevor! they’re closed!” i snap, covering my eyes for good measure.

i can hear their footsteps get closer, padding down the stairs and into the living room, before Jamie tells me i can open my eyes.

i’m immediately confused by the sight in front of me, bewildered at the two men clad only in flannel pajama pants. both hold a gift box in front of them, wide smiles on their faces.

“why are you shirtless?” i giggle, my brows threading together as they stand side by side in front of me.

“just open your gifts!” Jamie urges.

“we’ll hold them! you open them!” Trevor tells me. “at the same time! gotta open them at the same time! or else the other present will be spoiled.”

i raise an eyebrow at the hyper hockey player, but he just notions with his head for me to hurry up.

i set my hot cocoa to the side, the mug clanking against the top of the wooden side table beside the couch. i glare at them suspiciously as i scooch to the edge of the couch.

reaching forward with both hands, i pull the tops from the christmas paper lined boxes, only to find what i least expected. there, poking through holes cut in the sides of the boxes, were Trevor and Jamie’s dicks. both already hard, so i’m drawn to assume that’s what they were doing upstairs.

“oh my god!” i peer up at the boys with amusement, a wide, humorous smile on my face. “you guys did not just do the dick in a box gift gag to me.”

“what do you mean ‘gag’?” Trevor jokes, “these are your gifts.”

the hockey players stare down at me, and it’s only then that i clock the lust in their eyes, obviously determined to finish what they started by themselves in their rooms.

my tongue flicks across my bottom lip, wetness pooling in my panties at the thought of a threesome.

sure, i’ve slept with the both of them; but its always been at separate times. never together, despite my persistence to them that i would love to do it.

“well, i guess i should have some fun with my gifts then, right?” Trevor and Jamie smirk at my words, removing themselves from the boxes and leaving themselves untucked from their bottoms.

i let the gift box lids tumble to the floor, reaching both hands forward, to grasp one of them in each hand. i tug, my eyes flitting between them to gauge their reactions.

while Trevor bites his lip, letting out a muffled moan, Jamie’s head tilts back, his jaw going slack.

i continue my movements, slowly jerking the both of them off. getting more and more aroused by the sounds they let out, echoing throughout the downstairs of the house. and when i abruptly stop, both men’s eyes pop open, staring down at me.

“well, you can’t expect me to have fun like this, can you?” i tease them, my tone sultry and low, and just to show them exactly what i mean, i pull my sweater over my head; leaving me in nothing but my skirt and bra.

the two men make quick work of joining me on the couch, sitting on either side of me. Trevor’s hand grazes my neck as he pushes my hair off my shoulder, his head dipping down to attach his lips to my collarbone, suckling and leaving wet kisses up the column of my throat. whereas Jamie takes it upon himself to press his lips to mine. what starts out as lust driven and rushed, quickly turns into passion and need. the defenseman’s tongue runs over the seam of my lips, gaining entry when i part them and pushing his tongue against mine.

Trevor’s hand rests high up on my thigh, slowly inching his way up under my skirt, and it doesn’t take long for him to get even bolder; his fingers finding my clit through my soaked lace panties. his middle finger presses, rubbing me in circular motions, and a high pitched moan escapes my lips, muffled by Jamie’s.

as though coordinated, both men pull away from me, Jamie’s lips puffy and swollen. the tip of Trevor’s nose drags up my throat slowly, until he reaches my ear, his finger halting in its movements.

“you want this?” Jamie asks me, smirking as i nod my head and let out a choked whimper.

“then we need you to be a good girl and strip for us.” Trevor whispers in my ear, pairing his utterance with a roll of my earlobe between his lips.

he pulls away, both pairs of eyes settling on me as i rise from my seat. i unzip my skirt, letting it pool to the floor into a puddle of fabric at my feet, and they suck in a breath at the sight of my matching red lacy set.

“someone knew she was gonna get fucked today.”

i nod at Jamie’s words, bottom lip caught between my teeth as i unclip my bra, pushing the straps off my shoulders and allowing it to drop down to the floor. my nipples are stiff and peaked, the cold air doing nothing to help.

“i didn’t know i would get both of you today though.” i confess, a boost of confidence surging through me as the hockey players ogle my breasts.

“keep going, baby.” Trevor all but groans, watching intently as i begin to drag my panties down my legs, stepping out of them and leaving myself bare for them.

“i hardly think this is fair.” i huff, feigning a pout. “you guys still have your pants on and i’m here all naked for you.”

Jamie hops up from the couch, tugging his flannel pants from his legs, while Trevor merely lifts his hips and takes his off while sitting. both men look at me, seeking reassurance, and i nod.

“much better.”

Trevor grins, leaning forward to grip my by the waist and pulling me back onto the couch. he pushes me flat down, sprawling me out on the sofa, and guides my leg to hook over the back of the couch, leaving me open and vulnerable to his gaze.

my eyes flick to find Jamie, but rather than standing in the spot he once was, he now sits in the chair beside the couch. his hand grips around the base of his cock, squeezing gently to tease himself as he watches Trevor and i.

“let’s see if you taste as good as your cocoa.” Trevor smirks. i roll my eyes at the joke, laughing at his cheesy remark, but my giggles get caught in my throat when he bends down, licking a stripe up my core.

“fuck, Trevor.” i cry out, one hand flying to his head and burying itself in his fluffy dirty blonde hair, as the other fists the couch cushion beside my head.

Trevor chuckles lowly, repositioning himself before diving in like a man starved. his tongue laps at my arousal, my eyes squeezing shut at the feeling, and i can hear Jamie groan from his place near my head.

licking up, Trevor flicks his tongue against my clit, his hands holding my thighs apart to keep me from squeezing them around his head. his lips close around the nub of nerves, sucking it and rolling it between his lips, and i give a tug to his hair, a moan bubbling up my throat as my hips buck against him.

“yes! please, don’t stop!” i whimper, but rather than listen to my words, he chooses to release my clit, letting his tongue drag back down to my entrance.

continuing his assault against my cunt, Trevor brings his thumb to my clit, providing just enough pressure as he begins to rub.

my eyes roll back in my head, my back arching, and i can feel the pressure in my stomach growing; getting stronger and stronger the longer he continues.

“make her come, Z.” Jamie pipes up, “i wanna watch her let go.”

Trevor hums in agreement, the vibrations traveling from his tongue to my pussy. and with just a few more rubs of his thumb, and flicks of his tongue, my breath catches in my throat, my lack of oxygen quickly making me woozy and aiding in tipping me over the edge. i heave out a breath, mingled with a high pitched cry as my vision turns white, my legs shaking as i release on his tongue.

he doesn’t ease up, lapping at my wetness even after i come down from my climax. it’s only when i whine, pushing his head away, that he finally backs away, pushing himself up.

“i’d say she’s ready to be properly fucked, wouldn’t you Jimmy?” Trevor chuckles, staring down at me as i pant to catch my breath.

“yeah, i think i must agree, Trev.” Jamie sidles up to the couch, joining his best friend in watching me in my fucked out bliss. “i think she can take another one, don’t you?”

“i know she can.” Trevor confirms. taking ahold of my hands, Trevor helps me up, motioning for me to spin around. once i do so, Jamie nudges my back, forcing me onto all fours before he kneels behind me.

“can’t wait to have those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.” Trevor mutters, his thumb running along my bottom lip. “you think you can handle me fucking your face?”

i peer up at him through my lashes, working hard to focus my vision, as i can feel Jamie running his tip through my wetness. nodding my head, Trevor smiles down at me darkly.

“yeah, i know you can.”

gripping his cock, Trevor pushes the tip against my lips, urging me to open up for him, and i happily do so, relaxing my throat as he pushes in. it’s in this moment that Jamie thrusts in to the hilt, bottoming out inside of me, and i choke, my eyes rolling back as i adjust to the fullness.

“fuck, you feel like heaven.” Jamie grunts, pulling all the way out before he intrudes me once more, setting a quick pace. “so fucking tight, i could fuck you all day.”

i clench around him in acknowledgement, a groan falling from his lips at the feeling.

i can barely hear his grunt over the sounds of my gagging as Trevor thrusts into my face, his hands gripping the side of my head as he guides me. pulling out, i’m given a little reprieve, sucking in a deep breath as Trevor slaps my cheek with his cock, drool and pre-cum dripping down my chin.

“you’ve been wanting this for so long, haven’t you?” the forward mocks me, slipping himself back past my lips as i whine.

“you just wanna be filled, don’t you?” Jamie chimes in, “fucked thoroughly.”

i can’t respond, but i have the suspicion that’s how they want it, both laughing as i focus purely on pleasure.

i can feel myself sucking Jamie in every time he thrusts, my walls closing around him in effort to keep him there. his tip drags against my g-spot every time his hips snap, and i can feel the pressure in my stomach building itself back up. tying into knots as he quickens his pace.

his skin slaps against mine, and his hand spreads across my back, pushing down to get me to arch it, and i follow his lead. the new angle makes my toes curl, but i can’t focus too hard on it because i can feel Trevor’s dick begin to throb.

Trevor’s head tips back, a loud moan escaping him as he pulls back again, letting me breathe through my mouth for a moment rather than my nose, before he pushes my head back down.

“shit! i’m gonna come!” Trevor breathes out, and i relax my throat, hollowing out my cheeks as he pushes me until my nose makes contact with his abdomen, holding me there as his abs flex. his cock twitches just before he sighs, ropes of cums spurting in my mouth and down my throat.

pulling out of my mouth, he gazes back down at me.

“show it to me.” i open my mouth, allowing him to see his release, and he grips my cheeks, pulling my head up. drawing his head back, he spits, some making it into my mouth while rest splatters on my cheek. “now swallow.”

his hand slides down to my throat, feeling the muscles work as i gulp, swallowing it down.

“good girl.”

with Trevor finished, Jamie takes this as his time to alter our position. shooing away his teammates hand, Jamie replaces Trevor’s grip on my throat with his own, pulling me up until my back is flat against his chest.

his hips buck, fucking himself up into me at a hard and fast pace, making my legs shake. his other hand finds my pearl, rubbing as he thrusts.

“that’s it. take this dick like a good girl.” Jamie whispers, his lips ghosting the shell of my ear, and it’s the combination of those words and his fingers circling my clit, that set me off, clenching around him as i reach my orgasm.

tears roll down my cheeks at the pleasure, my breath hitching once more as i come on his cock.

“fuck, squeezing me so tight, i’m gonna come.” Jack curses, making me clench around him again, spurring on his own release. he continues fucking me through our orgasms, causing chills to run down my spine.

releasing his hold on me, i flop down onto my back on the couch, catching my breath as the boys on either side of the couch do the same.

it’s silent in the room, nothing but the sound of heavy breathing, until Jamie speaks up.

“so remind me, why have we never done this before?”

Trevor and i let out shallow laughter, the defenseman joining us when he finally caught his breath.

“so…” i trail off, gaining the attention of both boys.

“you can use my shower.” Trevor tells me, and i nod. but when i make no move to get up, they both furrow their brows at me.

“give a girl a second!” i huff, “i think my legs are jello.”

at my words, both hockey players smirk, Trevor lifting his hand in the air for Jamie to fist bump.

once we’ve all three recovered, taken quick showers, and Jamie has remade my now long having gone cold cocoa; we rejoin on the couch, a blanket draped over the trio of us.

“what do we wanna watch?” Trevor questions, the remote clutched in his hand.

“a christmas movie.” i state, as though it’s obvious.

“Elf?” Jamie suggests, and i nod, Trevor already finding it on a streaming service.

about 20 minutes into the movie, i curl my legs up, cuddling into Jamie’s shoulder while Trevor’s hand grips my foot in a calming manner.

they both glance over at me, but upon seeing my still open eyes, immediately look back at the tv. Jamie repositions us, his arm now around me while my head lays on his chest, and despite my hardest attempts, my eyes flutter shut not long later. my breathing evening out as i fall asleep.

[fandomwritingbit]

Sweet girl pt.6

Dbf William Afton x (fem) virgin reader

Synop: Your parents are throwing a neighbourhood party, you're looking forward to it. It's too bad you're going to miss all of it.

Warnings: smut, oral, taking of virginity, public sex, coercion, corruption and manipulation. William is pretty evil ngl.

Imma just link to the masterlist, this series is getting well too long lol.

A/n: I've never written cherry-popping before I hope this is okay. This is so far from my experience it's hard to believe it'd be the same even lmao. Also my writer's block has been so fucking bad recently, I need all the slack you're willing to give.

It sounded great when your parents first put it to you: a barbeque a few weekends from now, the whole neighbourhood invited to enjoy some good food and sunshine. The perfect excuse to flaunt a gorgeous lavender dress you bought months ago, it caught your eye on a sales rack, a perfect flowy fabric that clung to all the right places. Your size, a match made in heaven. You can’t help but shiver with the thought of how William will react to it, handsy is the word that springs to mind, not that you are against that. 

~

The day of, you step into that dress, the fabric soft and almost soothing around your body. It’s hot today and you’re glad for the lightness of the material, though you think that maybe the heat on your face is from anticipation. He’s all you think about, the danger of him asking you to touch him with your dad barely 10 feet away, the beautiful feeling of his fingers inside you tearing an orgasm out of you like nothing you've had before, the nights you’ve spent calling him and getting off. You’re addicted to all of it and it has your fingers dipping into your panties at any given opportunity.

You pad downstairs about ten minutes before people are set to arrive, finding your mum and dad hurrying around. “Oh you look lovely, sweetie.” Your dad says in passing, carrying an overly big bowl of salad towards your dining table. It was full of all kinds of buffet bits, but enough space left for guests to contribute things, as tends to be customary. Right now the amount of food seems over the top, but you know that once things get going your house will be full of everyone with a tie to the community.

… 

And you were correct, your house is swarming. People in the living room, the dining room, outside, all chatting and greeting neighbours that ‘they really should see more often’. You’re herded around groups of people by your mum and dad, introductions and re-introductions said to what felt like hundreds, but was likely only twenty or so. You are as polite as you can, smiling through small talk about your education and how much you’ve changed since last year, but your heart’s not in it, your eyes are constantly flicking around for William. It should be easy to spot him, he's a tall enough fella, but your searching keeps turning up empty.

Your glancing around the room is interrupted by a squeaky, “Oh my god, y/n?” You turn to where the voice is coming from, instantly recognising the girl of your age who was squeezing past your dad to get to you. “I haven’t seen you since… school.” She pulls a face at the word ‘school’ which you commiserate with, you can’t place this girl's name but the mention of school makes you frown. Your manners are important to you but it doesn’t take a genius to realise that if you haven't seen someone in years, there’s most likely a reason why.

“Yeah… It’s been a long time.” You agree, giving her a bright smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. In the middle of this awkward interaction you clap eyes on him and your heart jumps in your chest in such a ridiculous way you pray it doesn’t show on your face. He’s talking to a bloke you know from three or four houses down, a small smile on his face that has an air of amusement like he’s laughing internally at the gentleman’s expense. 

You are almost physically pulling away from this conversation but the lass doesn’t stop talking, oblivious to your lack of interest as she tells you all about her cosmetology school and her apprenticeship. You just don’t have the rudeness in you to walk away so you grit your teeth and ride out the conversation, eagerly watching William out of the corner of your eye.

It takes so long trying to get her to leave that by the time she’s got out her phone and is part way through finding you on instagram, William is slinking out of the room. The moment she’s done, you brush her off with a polite see you later, leaving the room in the path your bad influence had used. You’re experiencing some kind of withdrawal from not having his attention, it’s pathetic but it’s true, and achingly obvious in how you walk your house searching for him… again. 

You find him in your living room and you edge through a group of chatting neighbours to get through to him and as you get near still unnoticed you find your mum standing beside him, looking up at him and talking through a wide grin. “It feels like a long time since I’ve seen you properly, William.” It takes you no effort to lock onto your mother’s words, they make you frown instantly. 

“Yeah I’ve been busy with work.” He shakes his head, “I’ll have to come and see you and Chris soon.” And your lovely daughter, he mentally adds, though some of the intention must show on his face because the woman in front of him puts her hand on his arm. His eyes widen. 

“Anytime.” She says, doubling down on it, “I mean it, any-time. I like having you around.” Something about the tone of that turns your frown into a scowl. It’s flirtation, and you burn with anger. Jealousy, yes, you can’t help it, it’s instant, but for god’s sake your dad is right fucking there. You don’t consider how you could be overreacting, the indignation is too strong, so you leave the room in a huff, feeling like a fucking idiot for spending your whole day looking for a bloke who clearly wasn’t looking for you. It stings and in a flurry you remind yourself that all the things you’ve done with him are only your first times, not his. 

You’re out of the house before you know it, keeping your head down as you go far to the bottom of your garden where a hedge gives you respite from turning heads. You’re not crying, but you’re not a mile away from it either. Maybe it’s that withdrawal again, but you stand in the corner feeling let down, lonely and stupid. Anger at your mum outweighs anger at William, but the latter is still strong. 

You stand there for a while, getting a better grip on your emotions, you need enough of a hold to walk back inside and either brave more of the party or hide away in your room. This is when people need a smoke, you think to yourself, wondering if a fag could actually help relax someone in this state.

Calming yourself down takes a good few minutes but once you get there, you decide that yeah, you need some quiet for a bit, then some thought about why you went off the handle so quickly, why you’re so enamoured by William. But to do that you’re going to have to escape this whole party, preferably without being noticed because if someone asks you how you are right now, you don’t know how you’re going to react. 

So you slip out your hiding place, peeking around the hedge to see the silent picture of people through your back windows. Here we go. You cross the garden pretty quickly and soon get your hands on the door handle into the house, you step inside managing to smile at the few heads that turn your way. But that smile soon drops away when he appears. Your heart jumps at the sudden confrontation, so long of trying to catch him but now you don’t want him anywhere near you. 

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding.” William’s voice drips with honey and you try to ignore the warmth already settling in your core, but you know it’s a battle you won’t win.

You turn from his invasive gaze, hands a little shaky as you try to close the sliding door behind you. “Hey, where are you going, hm?” His eyes narrow at the blatant way you’re ignoring him, he can’t hold a serious expression though so a confused smirk rests on his face, how sweet you look with that pet lip. He puts his hand on your arm, halting the process of closing the door easily, no force necessary, the touch is enough. “Come with me outside, sweetheart, come on.” 

You look up at him frowning, partially from previous anger, partially from fear that someone else will see, how he can dare to be so obvious is beyond you. There’s no room to reason with him, not when he’s already opening the door again, already guiding you through it, that grip still present on your arm. It’s not a firm hold, it’s barely there but, the skin to skin contact has you enthralled. 

He takes you all the way back to the hidden spot you left just minutes ago, only this time it doesn’t feel like such a safe space. Once out of view he lowers his head down to look you in your face, not liking when you turn away and so catching your chin with his thumb. “Are you alright, sweet thing? What’s wrong?”

His sickly sweet tone is enough to spark a flash of anger as bright as it is sudden. “Why don’t you ask my mum?” You snap, your voice much more petulant than it is clever, the patheticness of it has your cheeks hot but you double down. William just grins, confusion leaving his brow furrowed. This is new, he thinks, you’ve never taken that tone with him before, it’s fun, shiny-new and exciting. 

You continue, provoked by him not understanding what you mean, “...You seemed to be enjoying her company anyway...” You speak dejectedly, your jealousy running riot with you. You want to pull away from him, the lack of genuineness in his expression inflames you, he thinks it’s all a game and you can’t believe you’ve only just cottoned on. 

William hums in acknowledgement before dropping his hand from you, you’re glad that he’s taking you that bit more seriously but it’s downright shameful how you miss the contact already. 

It takes a lot in him not to laugh, the unfounded envy practically has your eyes glowing. This is good though, such passion all from feeling cast aside, you so desperately want him to want you and that is just perfect. For him. He faces your glare dead on, being very careful not to patronise you too much. “What exactly are you jealous of?”

You open your mouth to protest, hating yourself for being so easy to read. You know your bitterness is written on every inch of you, your closed stance, your harsh jaw, the immature tone of your voice, but you just can’t fucking help it. There’s no point denying it, so you don’t bother. “There…” you stumble, having to abandon your daggers to continue, “You didn’t have to flirt with my mum right in front of my face like that… and my dad’s.” 

He nods, sighing before answering you through a slick grin, “I think maybe your mam was teasing me, a little.” That grin simply blossoms, thorough amusement peeking out of hiding, “But you more than anyone should know that flirting with me isn’t half as boring as that was.” 

You don’t have time to fight the way you flush, it’s not fair, are you really this easy to win over? He’s doing the William equivalent of batting his eyelashes at you and you’re falling for it, you must want to deep down. But you still don’t trust him as far as you could throw him, which is needless to say, not far. 

“Come on, why would I even consider your mother when I have her sweet girl looking at me so moody right now, huh?” You roll your eyes at that, moving to turn away and think for yourself but he stops you, his hands on you holding you still and muting the dull noise around you. “At least tell me what I can do to make it better. How can I earn your forgiveness?” He speaks with a certain glee, prideful of his art form, like you’re some puzzle he’s solved before. And with his face close to yours he adds mockingly, “Or have I got it already?” 

You want to touch him, shut him up, but you’re a mere corner away from the whole neighbourhood. “You’re slimy.” You speak honestly, well maybe you’re sugar-coating it even, “And I’m not stupid.” Your conviction is there, but the physical support isn’t, you’re looking up at him like a doe, breathing quicker than normal, your chest rising and falling fast in your new dress. 

He laughs, “True. But watch it, you’ll hurt my feelings.” He has something else to say, some other mocking teasing syrup, you don’t let him, throwing yourself towards him. Your lips press against his in a sudden desperate way, like you’ve something to prove. Your lack of finesse could be mistaken for hunger but he knows you better than that, he dominates the kiss without much effort, easily pulling you along with his rhythm. He likes you like this, smart, able to see through him, it turns him on. Because what’s better than spoiling a naive young woman? Spoiling one who knows it’s happening and can’t help herself either way. 

William breaks the kiss, hands eagerly taking in your shape, “Let me make you forgive me, right here.” As he talks his touch slides low, over your arse and making your back curve against him. “I’m dying to pull this cute dress up.” You need it, just whining some form of approval, wordless at that predator’s glint in his gaze. He slides his hand between your legs and you’re keen, shivering at the spark of pleasure and eagerly angling your hips for more. 

He pauses his touch for a moment, breath staggering as he thinks about what he’s going to do, you hardly notice for your own need. When you do look at him, you see him shaking his head, snickering at something unbeknownst to you. 

He moves then, debasing himself by dropping to his knees on the grass, hands grabbing your skirt fabric up above your waist band, gathering it there in one to rive your panties down with the other. The cool air invades you, unwarned exposure making you moan. “William-”

“Shush.” He chastises bluntly, as if his thumb wasn’t now resting against your clit and giving it a perfect gentle pressure. He knows what you’re going to say, “You don’t want anyone to see, huh? Well, bite your tongue. I don’t have to worry about mine.” The words are wicked with innuendo and you have to stifle everything in you except a sharp intake of breath when he shows you exactly what he’s doing with his tongue. 

It’s dirty, shame-ridden and debauched, but you’re at the mercy of his mouth devouring your cunt. Parting your seam to toy with the slick plea of your hole. You can hardly stand still, body shaking with fretful want, it’s too much and not nearly enough, you have to battle to keep quiet against the vindictive way your core is tightening. 

His tongue drags through your slit and he sniggers against you before cruelly sucking your bundle of nerves. You’re grabbing him, pulling him closer, trying to push him away, as you tingle with need for your end. He’s relentless, playing your instrument just right and you have no faculty to ask for respite. Your coil clenches tight and snaps, and you come undone right there in your garden, waves of bliss so bright your legs shake and you need his arms to hold you up. There are tears in your eyes and you don’t know if they’re because of your climax or the emotional whiplash you’ve just endured. You don’t have it in you to care.  

He pulls away from you and you watch over-blissed as he wipes your slick from his face on the back of his hand, letting your skirt fall to its rightful position. “Now that’s the perfect thing, I’ve missed.” He stands, his eyes dark with arousal. “You’re a good girl on the phone but fuck there’s nothing like it in person.” 

You beam with pride, his praise so much nicer when you’re pliant and glistening from pleasure. How bad an idea that was isn’t lost on you, but it was worth it, even if now you have to pull your knickers up to hide the evidence. As you do, you see how filthy he is, mud coating his knees and you laugh. 

Struggling to explain yourself through the shocked giggles you manage to state, “Your trousers are ruined.” 

He looks down and sees why you’re so lost in laughter, he had weighed up his options though and tasting your sweet pussy was more than worth the dirt. William attempts to brush some away but it’s never going to happen, and so with a sigh he sniggers, “Am I old enough to have people believe I fell?” 

You burst out laughing at that, unable to regain yourself for a while, he deserves that, you think. After some time you are lucid enough to say, “Maybe say tripped instead of fell.” Your cheeks are shiny with both the fit of giggles and the aftermath of your activity, you look so delectable he hardly minds the state of his clothes. 

“Why don’t,” William begins, still smirking, and you give him as much of your attention as you can, “you show me your room? I’d like to see it in person.” He’s testing to see how much forgiveness he’s won, you know that, but the prospect of what’s to come is motivation enough to give him it. 

“Okay.” You agree, the idea of it has your chest tight but your core knows better, “Should I be scared?” You’re joking, mostly, your room is a different beast, much more personal. Somehow more bare than what you’ve just done. 

“Very.”

~

Walking through your house felt dangerous, like it’s written on your forehead that you’re doing something wrong. People are eating now though, too self-absorbed to notice the rabbit leading the fox to its burrow, which is for the best, all things considered. 

He follows you obediently, mind half-focused on your retreating form, the other half pondering just what he’s going to do about this raging erection he’s afflicted with. You looked so sweet taking him in your mouth, so eager to please, malleable. But your perfect unbroken cunt would be just delightful to rut against. As much as he wants to, he won’t- can’t deflower you just yet, not with all these people around to hear the squeaking of bedsprings, hell, the squeaking of you. The idea makes his cock throb and he’s already palming himself before you reach the landing. 

“This one.” You say, opening the door for him, your voice sounds much smaller than it did two minutes ago. You are scared, all jokes aside. 

He moves past you inside, you’re the one to shut the door, sealing the two of you inside your bedroom. How out of place he looks, this huge hulking figure in your untainted room, the walls pastel, the sheets light and the curtain frilled. 

“I could have told you your room looks like this.” His grin is wolfish, the imposition feels very metaphorical and he revels in it. He’s absent-mindedly touching things, a bottle of perfume on your drawers, then a teddy on your bed, you like how they look in his hands, delicate, breakable. 

You find yourself speaking before the words are clear in your mind, “William…” He turns to you, still holding the fucking bear, visible overjoyed to be in your private space, piece by piece you’ve let him in here, first through a camera now this, it’s all very correct. 

“Hm?”

You’re flummoxed for words, arms folded across your chest in some vain effort to keep yourself together, “I want to t-touch you. On th-the bed.” The request takes a part of your soul with it, it’s unveiled and glaringly obvious, but there’s no other way to say it, that is what you want. Well, some of it. 

Chuckling, he throws the teddy aside, “That is the best thing anyone has ever asked me.” He means it, he could touch the peak now with just how pretty you’re talking to him. 

He moves slightly and you interrupt him, the rest of your want raising its whiny head. “You’ll have to take t-that off.” You’re pointing at his trousers and he laughs, remembering the muck decorating his legs, but the laughter dies quickly and he fixes you with a quizzical look, eyes narrowed as he again reads you like a book. 

“Because of the mud, or another reason?” He teases and you bite your lip, your answer wearing you, more than the other way around. Much like the way smugness is wearing him. “I know you like to see, you’re quite fascinated, aren’t you?” He grabs himself as he speaks, crude, garish and vulgar, and it prickles your sides. 

“You like to see me.” You retort, trying not to feel the embarrassment your brain really wants you to. 

“Very true.” 

…

Fascinated is perhaps the right word, you are fascinated by him. It’s more than just that he’s handsome or you find him attractive, it’s curiosity, desire to understand. The broadness of his shoulders, the muscle on his arms, the hair on his chest, his legs, his cock; it is fascinating. 

You start off sitting beside him on your duvet, enjoying the sight of him with his dick in your hand. Observing what your action is doing, how his breath changes for you, then a deep groan when you smear the precum beading on his tip. It’s driving you crazy and in a sudden realisation you need more. You want it all, want to know how his thickness is going to feel inside you, good, bad, dirty and ugly, you need it. 

And you tell him.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                The view of William above you is insane, the dark greying hair trailing down his chest leading your gaze down to the sight of him stroking his cock, positioned above your cunt. He presses against you occasionally, your hot slick beckons for him and he thrusts himself through it, restraint a heavy weight on his shoulders. It’s maddening. 

“Please…” You whine, any trace of dignity you had is long gone, you’re corroded, worn down to your bare minimum and you need him to feel the same way. 

He takes his eyes off your glistening cunt to flash you a devastating smirk, “Please, what?” The teasing makes you shift underneath him, desperate for more, that’s just how he wants you. As he watches you he pleasures himself, it’s bloody stupid how weak your pretty hole has got him.

The lewd words burn in your throat, there’s no debate in saying them, not anymore, “Fuck me… please.” You manage to choke out, but it still fails to convey your need to be filled. His fingers had made you see stars, but you’re greedy for more, you want him to come undone inside you. You want to drive him mad. 

Well, he didn’t expect you to say that. You want him to take your innocence right now? Right on your lacy fucking bed sheets? With your parents downstairs? Clearly you’re not thinking straight, you’re too fucked up and that is just delicious. Your plea makes his cock twitch in his hand, he wants nothing more than to stretch your sweet pussy around him but you could hardly handle his fingers. You hardly know what you’re begging for. 

“You want me inside?” As he speaks he rubs his cock over your pussy lips, there’s an almost sinister quality to his voice that makes your core tighten. 

You nod, squirming away from the teasing of your aching bundle of nerves; that’s exactly what you want. 

William sniggers, “I can’t, sweetheart. Not with everyone downstairs to hear.” You hardly notice the noises you make, but you’re vocal as anything, whining from the tiniest touch, he has no doubt his cock would make you scream. The reasoning falls on deaf ears, you don’t care because his power over you is too strong. You just want his cock inside you so he becomes as pathetic as you are. 

“Please.” You try again, this time shifting your body to roll your hips against his cock to show you’re serious, but your thighs quiver at the stimulation.  

In a sudden movement he seizes your jaw, forcing your gaze away from his cock on your swollen pussy to the dark look in his eyes. The restraint is visible, a clear crack in his in-control facade. He can’t help it, your begging is making him leak again, impatient precum oozing from his tip, begging alongside you for stimulation. How’s he supposed to hold himself back from this perfect untouched cunt right here asking him to deflower it?

“Do you even know what you’re asking for?” He speaks slow, a singsong tone to the words that’s a little sharper than intended due to the continued rolling of your hips. “It’s not to be taken lightly.” 

You watch him wide-eyed, understanding his words is a conscious effort. “It’s not just a quick fuck, sweetheart. It’s me breaking this little pussy. Taking your innocence.” He punctuated the filthy point by lining his cock up with your entrance, eliciting a terrified pang of excitement in your core. “Stretching you open. You know what that means?” 

He pauses but you don’t have the speech to answer, he thought as much, “Means it’s all mine. My little toy to use whenever I want. Break it over and over.” At this moment it doesn’t occur to you that this is the real William, not just slimy but the honest William who knows he’s bad, creepy, gross whatever you want to call it. The man who’s blatantly moulding you into something he can use, using your sexual naivety against you and playing your mind and body like a fiddle. 

You swallow, his words go straight to your cunt making you impossibly wetter. He looks down at you and his control slips from his fingertips, he knows you’re going to feel so fucking good around him, how tight and wet and fucking warm.

“That what you want?” He blatantly asks, the intention thick in the air. 

“Y-yes.” You start, your back arching a little, “I want it to be yours.” You know the words are dangerous, but you have no agency to prevent them from leaving your lips. “I want you to t-take it. Please.”  

He lets go of your jaw, a particularly mean expression possessing his face. “God, you are fucking stupid.” He speaks quietly but you hear, it stings and you’re unable to tell if he’s kidding or not. He wasn’t, you are stupid to let him get this far, and he’s stupid for going along with your begging.  

His cock is still notched tight against your entrance and he holds you squirming still with a hand on your hip. “You’re going to be quiet for me, alright? I’m giving you what you want.” His voice is thick but you hardly notice he even spoke, your heart is pounding and your whole body tense with anticipation. 

He parts your walls, pressing in slightly, just the head and your eyes ping wide. You’re wet, drenched even, ready for it but it still hurts. A noise escaped you, wounded, doubling when he presses just that little bit further. “Shh, fuck.” His curse is very telling, you’re strangling him already in the most perfect way, if he’s not careful he’s going to crack his own jaw with how tight it is in restraint. “I told you.” The words are harsher than he meant them, but seeing the tears already welling in your eyes he knows he was right. 

His hand comes over your clit, drawing a circle over the bundle and it works, a blaze of pleasure drapes over the invasion but it doesn’t distract you when he moves, forcing himself a lot further in your cunt. You cry out and in a sharp movement he covers your mouth, grunting at how you tense due to the sudden action. “Ah-You’re going to do it, sweet thing. Just relax, you’re tight as a fucking vice.” 

You try, blinking through tears, and focus on his rhythm on your clit, it’s better, easing. He moves, slowly pulling out then back in and you see it. The need for him inside, shaping your walls around him, your body squeezes him eager for him to continue. 

Your mouth is open behind his hand, muffled sounds leaving your lips, whining, mewling, hooked on the promise of overcoming the ache and snapping the coil inside you more than ever before. If your mouth was free maybe you’d say his name, or kiss him, or curse him, you don’t really know. His movement becomes better, you can take him, he knows you can. So he thrusts deep, making you accept him, your yelp is stifled and your teeth dig into the palm of his hand, it's unnoticed, overshadowed by the perfect feeling of you cunt swallowing him completely. 

“God,” He scowls. 

The pain dies again, settling back to the muted ache, you’re reeling, full more than should be possible, breathing frantically through your nose. He’s slow, pushing in and out of your hole considerately, as he’d be sure to tell you. And you quickly realise with a startling joy how he digs just right into a spot deep inside you. It’s almost blinding, engulfing you in a doubly quick need to end. 

Your cunt throbs and he flicks his eyes back to your face, what a good girl you are. He can feel the change in you, the rise of pleasure over pain, the way you panic at the growth of your end, your eyes say it all fearful of what’s going to happen. You’re close to an end, body burning and falling rigid underneath him. It hits you like a train, each time he shoves himself deep is electric, it's intense and you whiteknuckle just to take the pace he keeps as you cum around him. 

“Fuck, baby.” His words are edged with his own ruin, the rhythm of his pace growing brave, selfish, you’re taking it so well. And he loses it, no sense in him to pull out, he doesn’t care, your perfect cunt wants it. He’s biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself quiet as his warmth spills inside you, thrusts sloppy to push his cum deep inside you. You whimper, it's a dirty feeling, but a right one and seeing the look on his face you realise that you were right, he looks as pathetic as you feel.

He removes his hand from your mouth, your skin red under his grip, freeing you to moan pitifully. You’re wrecked, somehow exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. You don't know how you feel, your climax was like something unreal and when he slowly pulls out of you, you feel empty. William was right, you’re changed. 

He sits beside your form still laid exactly as he left you, your pretty pussy flushed and shining. “You alright?” 

You blink, like you somehow forgot he was a person able to speak, “Yeah, I think so.” Your voice is hoarse as fragile as the rest of you and it makes him grin. 

He looks down at you, and just laughs, at you, at him, at the situation, “What the fuck are we supposed to do now then?” 

It makes you chuckle and you run your hand over your face. Yeah, what exactly should you do now?

[h3ffleyswife]

"i cant hold my alcohol" (r. heffley x reader)

desc: fem! reader who's ben's little sister. drunken mishaps, you sleep in rodricks bed, just read it

warnings: slightly ooc rodrick ngl, i wrote this when i was tired lolz sry

word count: 2480

You buckle your seat belt and throw your purse on the floor of your brothers car. "We're going over to Rodricks, his parents are out of town so he's throwing a party, sound good?" Ben, your brother, says while reversing out of your guys' driveway. You furrow your eyebrows, "Rodrick? The hot one in your band?" You questioned, picking at the chipped nail polish on your fingernails. Ben looked over at you and scoffed, "I mean, whatever floats your boat. But no way would I ever let you two date. You guys would make my life a living hell." You roll your eyes and sigh, "Whatever, leave me to my fantasies, Ben."

Your brother's face contorts into one of disgust and he pulls in front of a house that you can only assume is the Heffley's. "Please, spare me with the details of your Rodrick fantasies." Ben says, putting the car in park and taking his keys. You giggle to yourself and hop out of his shitty, beat up car. You can see lots of kids already here, most of them already wasted out of their minds. Ben walks in front of you towards the front door, and your heart flutters with nerves.

Stepping through the door, the first thing that hits your nose is alcohol, and it almost makes you nauseous. Ben's already gone off somewhere, so you walk around until you can find the drinks. Peeking your head into the kitchen, there's a couple borderline fucking on Rodricks kitchen counter. You scrunch your eyebrows and turn around, there didn't seem to be any drinks in there anyways.

It takes you about five minutes and squeezing your way through a bunch of intoxicated, smelly teens, but you finally find the drinks. Gwen Stefani is blasting in your ear while you pour yourself a coke mixed with a little bit of whatever shitty alcohol Rodrick managed to get his hands on. You take a sip, there's not too much alcohol in the drink, which is good. You don't plan on getting drunk tonight.

Rodrick is standing in a corner of his living room, chatting it up with his band members when Ben walks up to him. Rodrick greets him with a high five and a large grin on his face, "What's up dude? What took you so long?!" Chris asks Ben, also giving the boy a high five. "Sorry guys, my sister took hella long to get ready, but we made it!" Ben said and took a sip of his drink, he's lucky you already agreed to being designated driver, because there was enough alcohol in his cup to kill a victorian child. Rodricks ears perked up at the mention of you, "Your sister's here?" Rodrick questioned Ben, who looked at him with a raised brow. "Yeah.. she's somewhere around here, why? Is that okay? She's in our grade, it's not like I brought my 7 year old sister or anything." Ben rambles, Rodrick's now scanning the room for your familiar face.

It's been a running "joke" between the band that Rodrick has a thing for you, Ben's sister, for a while now. Any time you showed up with Ben to practice because of convenience, Rodricks playing would be off, and he'd be distracted the whole practice. There was just something about you, Rodrick thought to himself. "Hey man, stop daydreaming about Ben's sister!" Chris waves his hand in front of Rodricks face and laughs, making Rodrick blink a couple times before laughing nervously and looking at Ben. Ben rolls his eyes before making eye contact with Rodrick, "I wouldn't actually be upset if you tried to date my sister, but I swear on my mother, Rodrick, that I will put you six feet under if you screw her over." Ben places his hand on Rodricks shoulder and tightens his grip, making Rodrick gulp nervously before nodding quickly, "Of course dude, I wouldn't do anything to purposely hurt her!" He swats Ben's hand away, "I have business to attend to, gentlemen." Rodrick shouts, walking- maybe skipping- away to go find you. Ben sighs and takes another swig of his drink while Chris laughs to himself, turning to go try and talk to a girl.

You're leaning against a wall, starting to get mildly bored, when someone taps your shoulder. Turning around, you see Rodrick. Your face immediately gets hot and you give him a small smile, "Hey!" Rodrick says with a smile, giving you a quick once-over. You pretend not to see him looking you up and down, feeling an unfamiliar feeling in your stomach. "Hey Rodrick, how's it going?" You ask, your voice shaky and hands clammy enough to open a seafood restaurant. You cleared your throat awkwardly, normally, you were able to hold a conversation with him, why was it so different now? Rodrick gives you a nervous smile and stutters out a reply, "Well, throwing a party is way harder than it seems, y'know. How've you been? I don't really see you around school much." He smiles at you and you feel like you've just levitated off of the ground, "Haha, yeah I bet. I'm not doing too bad, just kind of doing my own thing, you know? I haven't been doing a lot recently, but I did just pick up a new guitar the other day, learning it's been kind of a pain in the ass though." You find yourself starting to ramble. Rodrick just looks at you and melts into your voice, nodding at certain parts. "You should teach me how to play once you've got it down. I could teach you how to play the drums, not to flex or anything, but I'd say I'm pretty good" Rodrick says and crosses his arms, smirking to himself. You laugh and shake your head, "If you sound anything like you did a couple months ago, I think I'll pass on those lessons, Rodrick" You giggle, watching his face fall.

"Hey! I've improved, thank you! And I wasn't even that bad..." Rodrick looks away with a pink face, and you find yourself smiling at the boy. "Sorry, sorry. I'll have to take you up on those drum lessons, then." Rodrick looks at you and laughs, "You want another drink?" You look at your empty cup and shrug, "Sure, why not."

Rodrick leads you into the dining room where he had drinks laid out on the table, "Let me make you something, are you driving later?" He asks you, and you pause, "I could find a ride home". He raises his eyebrow, "You could always just crash over here if that's okay with you?" Your stomach twists in excitement and you nod, "That's fine by me, why are you trying to get me drunk, Heffley? Don't try anything funny" You say and take the drink he's made you out of his hands, throwing him a smirk afterwards. Rodrick's eyes go wide and he stutters and trips over his own words, "W-wait!! I'm not trying- that's not-" You cut him off by laughing loudly, shaking your head. "I'm just giving you a hard time, if I didn't want to drink, I wouldn't have agreed to you making me drink." Rodrick lets out a loud sigh and playfully glares at you, "Gave me a heart attack" He grumbles and you giggle again, taking another sip of your drink. It was pretty strong, and you realized you should tell your brother to figure out a ride home because you were no longer going to drive him home. You take another sip, "Hey, do you know where my brother is by any chance? I need to tell him i'm not gonna drive him home, maybe Chris can?" Your words start to slur together and Rodrick nods, "I'll go find him and tell him, stay right here, 'kay?" You nod and pour yourself another drink.

Rodrick shuffles through his now, very full, house and looks for Ben. He finally catches sight of the boy, but he's on his way out of the house. "Ben! Hold on-" Rodrick catches him walking out the door, Ben looks back and tilts his head to the side, "What's up dude?"

"Hey, do you have a ride home tonight?" "I was about to leave and drive mysel- oh shit I forgot about my sister, have you seen her?" Rodrick swallows nervously, "Yeah, we've been hanging out all night. Is she cool to stay here tonight? No funny business, I promise! She's just starting to get kind of drunk, and I need to stay home to like... supervise this party, you know?" Ben sighed and nodded, "Yeah, that's cool. Let me know if I need to come get her at any point. Don't do anything stupid, Rodrick. See you at practice tomorrow." Ben says, shutting the door after he does. Rodrick hopes he's not overly upset with him.

Making his way back to the dining room, Rodrick sees you beeline to the bathroom in front of him suddenly. He looks around confused for a moment before quickly following you to the bathroom, making sure you're okay. You slam the door behind you and Rodrick can hear the sound of you throwing up on the other side of the door. He winces and knocks on the door gently, "Hey, it's Rodrick, can I come in?"

There's a pause of silence. Rodrick can hear you cough, and then throw up again. After a minute or so passes, your voice can be heard weakly behind the door, "...come in". Rodrick opens the door, shoves himself in the bathroom and then quickly shuts it behind him again. You look up at him with tears in your eyes from throwing up, and the sudden motion of looking up makes you nauseous again, immediately throwing your head back towards the toilet bowl. Rodrick quickly kneels down next to you and holds your hair behind your head, and rubs your back.

After you're done throwing up, you look back at Rodrick, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to throw up like that. I can't hold my alcohol very well, I guess" You say, thoroughly embarrassed and wanting anything but to be here right now. Rodrick shushed you and tucked your hair behind your ear, "Here, I have a shirt you can change into, do you want pajama pants too? I'll get you water and you can lay down in my bed." He offers, holding you and slowly standing you up. You shake your head, "You don't have to do tha-" "I want to do that, do you need me to walk you upstairs? Or do you got it while I grab you some water?" He asks gently while walking you out the door. Your face turns pink and you sigh, knowing you couldn't avoid it now. "I got it, which room is yours?" "All the way down the hall and to the left, you'll know which one when you open it." He says, smiling and walking away to grab you a glass of water once he sees that you're walking up the stairs. Once you're up the stairs, you go to the room Rodrick told you to. Surprisingly, his room isn't terrible. Could it use some tidying up? Yeah, but for a teenage boy, it was fairly well kept. You sit down on his bed and wait for him, slipping your shoes off.

Rodrick opens the door, and cracks a small smile once he sees you sitting in his bed. You look up and give him a small smile back, grabbing the glass of water he offers you. He walks over and opens his wardrobe, grabbing you a black graphic tee and some pajama bottoms. When he hands you the clothes, you notice that he gave you one of his Loded Diper tee's, and you smile to yourself while your heart flutters. "I think I have these same pajama pants" You state, the pants looking very familiar. Rodrick laughs, "We should totally match, wouldn't that be cute?" He says, with a joking tone, but he meant it.

You looked up and giggled, "Turn around for a minute while I change" Rodrick's face goes red, and he nods before turning around. You take your shirt off and put on the Loded Diper shirt. It smells like cheap cologne and... Rodrick. You can't describe how he smells, but it makes your heart jump in your chest. You slide your pants off and put on the pajamas, looking up at Rodrick, who's still staring into the wall, focusing on anything but the fact that there's a hot girl changing in his room. "You can turn back around, Rodrick"

He turns around and his stomach flutters at the sight of you in his clothes. "Drink some water and lay down, you can go to bed if you want to. I'll sleep on the floor tonight." Rodrick says, taking a pillow off his bed and tossing it lightly on the floor. "I can sleep on the floor, Rodrick, I don't mind" "No, I'm not making a pretty girl sleep on the floor, do you think I'm crazy?" He says, almost offended at the thought of letting you sleep on his floor. You blush, and look away awkwardly with a quiet laugh. He smiles at you, and walks towards his door. "I'm gonna go tell people to go home, I'll be back up in a minute" You nod and he leaves the room.

Laying back in his bed, the situation you're in starts to sink in.

You're in Rodrick Heffley's bed. And you're wearing his clothes. What the fuck? Your heart pounds and you turn onto your side, closing your eyes and cuddling into his pillow. It wont hurt to close your eyes for a minute until Rodrick gets back.

Rodrick goes around downstairs, telling people that they should start to head home because it's getting late. People leave, and Rodrick has to kick a couple people awake off of his living room floor. He looks around at the mess that he'd have to deal with tomorrow and sighs. He'd probably just get Greg to help him with it.

Rodrick walks up the stairs and gently opens his bedroom door. He walks in, shutting the door behind him and then looks over to you, and his heart soars. He swears he can feel his heart pouring out of his chest, how was it possible for a girl to look so beautiful? He walks over to your sleeping figure and tucks your hair behind your ear, "You're so pretty.." He says quietly, and kisses the side of your head.

Rodrick makes himself a makeshift bed on his floor, staring at the small portion of your sleeping figure that he can see. "Goodnight" He says to you with a smile, turning over, thinking about you.

What an eventful night.

hey!!! first fic in a while, let me know if you'd want a part two, thx!!

[sheloveshp]

Heartbreak - Hermione G.

(pt.1)

Hermione Granger x fem!reader

summary: how you and Hermione grangers relationship came to be about before it all came crashing down before you knew.

a/n: light smut/ multiple chapt prob./ felt like this was all over the place ngl :( also not proofread. pls send requests.

masterlist

Hermione and you are no Strangers to each other.

You and Hermione were often at eachothers necks, bickering and fighting. Some days are better, some days are worst. You and her didn’t want to admit it but after a few months, you began enjoying eachothers presence. Laughing together in class to taking her away from the yule ball to get some fresh air, after she got stood up.

Personally, you never had any problem with her parents being non sorcerers. Even when you talked you referred to them as non-sorcerers and not “muggles” or any sort of slur. Hermione noticed this and knew this was coming from a good place and wasn’t superficial.

After it has been going rather well between you it went downhill. Or so you thought…

One afternoon that built up anger that Hermione always seems to have stored up was about to explode. You and her were arguing over something so unnecessary that you took it outside the great hall. And thankfully you did.

“I can’t believe you’re so stupid y/n!” Hermione said walking out of the great hall huffing and puffing.

“Me? Stupid? Are you even listening to yourself Hermione?!” You followed right after her and slammed her against the nearest wall, Hermione slightly grunting. “Yes! You’re stupid and I can’t believe you actually did that!” She yelled slapping your chest softly.

what happened?

As usual you were partnered up with Hermione, working on a project in class. When a Slytherin came up to you to “warn you“ about working with muggles. While Hermione was quiet, ate her anger up and left. You went and embarrassed that Slytherin in front of the whole class. Even turned her into a ferret for a minute.

When Hermione found out that you had her back she was confused. Firstly, why is this hot feeling spreading in her chest while thinking about you standing up for her?

Secondly, why would you want to risk your status in Slytherin for her? When this all goes bad and they start to bully you then you’ll be the one that gets hurt. Hermione didn’t want this and while she was just a Gryffindor, the Slytherins are your people. You’ll be the one that has to stick to them for the next years.

You took her hands into yours while she was holding back tears to help her ground herself again.

“Why do you always let people walk over you like this Mione?” You talked in a whisper now because you were genuinely curious. Hermione looked into your eyes and thought about how for the past year you were the one that had her back, always. You were such a strong character yet still so calming to her. This balance is what she needs in life. She needs you. Now.

Hermione Granger crashed her lips onto yours. Although, at any given moment a teacher or a student can walk by and witness this Hermione felt so safe. This is a feeling she never really had here in Hogwarts. She never felt at peace here.

And if you didn’t reciprocate any good feelings she might have towards you, she probably won’t be okay but at least she has had this moment.

Finally, you came to a realization as to what is happening. Should you really do this. A mud blood Gryffindor and a Slytherin? Was this okay? At this moment, you just went for it, cupped her cheeks and went for a deeper kiss.

Hermione pulled away to catch her breath. “I hope this is okay, y/n.” she breathed out.

Fuck it.

“Do you want to come up to my room, love?” You said as you bite her earlobe and breathed onto her neck almost intoxicated by her perfume.

“Yes.” Hermione said, leaning into you like a shy girl and biting down on her smiling lips. You took her hand and made a run to your room since everyone is at dinner. Thankfully, Slytherins didn’t share their room with anyone.

Once you smuggled her into your room, Hermione left all that frustration she has out on you. Throwing you down on your bed, she started to kiss down your lips and moved downwards.

Knowing where this was going you tried to grab your wand out from your bedside table to lock the door and soundproof it.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked confused as she looked up from leaving hickeys all over your neck.

„Yes, sweetheart i just want you to be the only one to hear me.“ You spoke a few spells while Hermione took of your clothes.

„Miss Granger isn’t as nice as they say she is.“

„You’ll see how nice I really am once I really get started with you.” she almost growled while sucking on your tits.

It felt really nice to have Hermione being this open towards you and being comfortable enough to show you this side of her. There were many sides of her and you wanted to get to know them all.

Keeping eachother up the whole night, both of you were snuggled up in bed. Thankfully it was a Saturday morning, so both of you had nowhere to be right now.

Before you dozed off, you kept thinking about how beautiful Hermione is and that there is no way you’re going to let her go and have this be a one time thing.

You liked her and having her sleep so peaceful in your arms, must be a dream come true.

That was until your dream, became known to spectators that were not fond of your bond.

[weirdogirl888]

hii i’m the same one who did the masochism ask… ngl it could go both ways but me personally i’d prefer it to be the reader 🥹🥹

donnie x masochistic!reader

y’all arnt ready, also i wrote this as headcannons but changed it into a one shot cuz i kept yapping so it’s not as good as i could’ve done but i hope u enjoyed

tw: smut, spitting, slapping, choking, mentions of anal, this is rlly bad i’m sorry

you and donnie have always been in agreement that sex was used to take out the frustrations you both had in your lives into each other during sex. you both thought it made the sex way better and also you felt better the days after.

donnie always was curious whenever you made his hand grip your neck and would lead you to smile and roll the eyes in the back of your head. you couldn’t have enjoyed that, could you? what about being cut off from a source of oxygen was making you turned on? donnie had tons of questions, and whenever the thought of you being into the pain ran by his mind, an erection and a smirk immediately followed

one time before sex donnie asked if he could be rougher with you than usual, and you literally dropped to your knees and stared at him in full seriousness “i’m your doll, use me”

at first it began with donnie slapping and pinching your tits which let out a pathetic moan from you and a light bulb turn on from him. he started getting rougher, he’d spit on you and say such sweet things in your ear that almost acted as if he wasn’t treating you like dirt right then

“your so pretty acting like my little slut for me baby. all mine to abuse, right?”

“all yours donnie” you whined with closed eyes

“yea thought so” he said before flipping your ass in the air

one time your parents were out of town so you guys decided to watch a movie in the living room. donnie really wanted to keep watching but you kept grinding on him so he couldn’t focus whilst spooning you and decided to teach you a lesson.and that’s how you ended up naked, ass up in the air and the top half of your body around the arm of the couch while donnie, fully clothed, had a perfect view of your ass and running pussy.

“is this what you wanted? to be played with? why do you crave my attention that fucking badly?” he said delivering another hard smack to your ass, which was already so fucking red from the previous 20 whole minutes.

you whined in response your hole sat wet and achey. donnie thought you’d have enough punishment and plunged his digits into you, causing you to moan loudly from the unexpected insertion. he always felt so fucking good. you completely let go of any support and just let your body hang over the couch, the arm pushing into your stomach

“you look so hot at my disposal, bet i could do anything to you right now” donnie’s thumb rubbed your asshole implying something you never even imagined, you moaned in terror

“i’m just kidding doll, maybe when you’ve been really bad i’d fuck you that hard. but wouldn’t you like it? being my anal princess.”

“is my pussy not enough for you?” your voice muffled

donnie laughed “got me there, speaking of” in an instant , he pulled your entire body only the couch do your back hit the soft cushions

“how’d you like another kind of didget to fill you up?” he said smiling.

[amymbona]

amy!! i started theatre classes this year and for certain classes you have to do shop hours so the past few days i’ve been going to the training sessions… yesterday i did scenery training which involves cutting wood and i was lowkey scared to use the circular saw 😬 so i told the supervisor i was scared (who was kinda cute ngl) and he said “it’s okay, i’m here.” teeheehee! and then later when we were screwing the wood together i was struggling a bit and i said my safety glasses were blurry and he got closer to me and looked into my eyes really intensely and said “yeah, i guess they are…”

thinking about this with patrick!!! 🫣

First of all, damn lucky you!!!

Second of all, fuck yeah!!!

Imagining Patrick being slightly older than All the people who attend the theatre classes but also not old enough to lead it on his own. So he's probably the teacher's assistant, mainly there for the technical stuff, like helping with the music and lights.

He usually just stands in the shadows or carries some boxes, and others don't really pay attention to him, maybe apart from some teenage girls who find him really hot. But he really couldn't care less. Yes, Patrick Zweig is a flirt but it's not in his nature to go after seventeen year old girls.

The age range is like 15 - 20 and you're among the older ones, so your role is almost guaranteed cause you're doing Mamma Mia or something like that. And Patrick finds you really fascinating, the way your voice carries through the theatre and the way your presence feels on the stage. He thinks you're absolutely gorgeous actually and tries to find a way to get closer to you.

So he's being a gentleman, offering to turn your mic on and giving you a hand when you hop off of the stage. That gives him a chance to compliment you and throw in a joke here and there and boom - you laugh, that's good!

And when y'all wre doing costune rehearsals, he's in the backstage to aid those who need it, so he's handing out hats and purses to all the actors. But when you run in, sweaty and unable to see much in the dark space, he offers you a glass of water and unzips your dress kindly, using that as an opportunity to run his hands over your bare waist.

When the premiere is finally there, you're so stressed and afraid, he's giving you a pep talk, holding your hands and telling you you're the most gorgeous girl out there and that you're gonna nail it. You're blushing the whole time, successfully forgeting about all those worries.

And when it's finally over and you come back after a four minute standing ovation, Patrick embraces you and dares to kiss you as well - because you look absolutely stunning with tears in your eyes and flushed face - and you kiss him back and your heart is beating way too fast and everything is absolutely perfect <3

[nanamimizz]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝚩𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆.

tags: fem reader, established relationship, 18+ minors dni, nsfw implied, bruising overall fluff ngl. love you barou. wc. 700ish.

synopsis: even as the day winds down to it's final minutes, you can't help but spoil shoei.

You’re kissing him again - it feels like you’ve been kissing him since he woke up, and Barou can only lay down and let you. What else is he supposed to do when the love of his life, naked as the day she was born, was here before him flushed and sweaty blessing him with bites of her affection? His face feels as red as his irises and he hisses when you go from kissing his cheek to the new bite mark you left on his neck. The clock reads 11:57 pm, his birthday will soon come to an end and he will be one year older, one year wiser, and have spent another year with you in his life.

“I’m sorry, too fresh?” You ask and he rolls his eyes at the tease. His thumb, just his thumb comes to the new bruise on the back of your throat and presses down lightly: just enough to make you wince and Barou has to swallow at how just the difference between your neck and his thumb makes him want to go again. You pull your head away and he lets you go just as he lets you reach over to take his hand in yours. You kiss the ridge of his knuckles and Barou wants to know if it’s possible that you can kiss his soul through his flesh.

“What do you think? How was yours?” He asks, and you laugh as gently as windchimes and he falls in love again as the clock goes on to read 11:58 pm.

“Understood, understood.” There’s joy in your eyes when you bring your head down again until your forehead bumps into his. Your eyes are soft in the night, looking at him with all the adoration in the world and Barou feels like he’s been the same shade of red all day. You reach out and he shudders when you begin to trace his face with your fingers. They follow the line of his nose bridge and begin to trace his defined cupid’s bow.

“Did you have fun today?’ You ask and his eyes flutter shut in a blink he thinks about the day you gave him. He had dinner with his teammates and he was surprised by his two little sisters after he was told that they wouldn’t be able to make it - you three had even managed to pay the bill even if he had to be held down by the likes of Aryu and Oliver.

“Hey, man - let them pay, they wanna treat you.”

“It’s very not glam to refuse a gift from such fair creatures.”

“Shut up like hell I’m letting them pa-”

Barou opens his eyes and looks at you again, he can see the sweat that shines on your brow like dewdrops and he drinks in the curve of your shoulders. You’re pretty and you’re sweet, smiling at him like that he can’t help but give you the praise you deserve. 

“Yeah baby,” he has to take a deep breath after the pet name, “I had fun today, thank you,” he mutters and you know those are words only meant for you to hear. You huddle closer, bare chest to yours and you press another kiss to his lips. It’s soft like an owl’s wings that he saw in the nature documentary you made him watch with you, and he can’t help but sigh into it.

The clock reads 11:59 pm.

You part with a smile - you tell him you love him, and you let your hands touch his face in a way that feels like worship. Barou turns his head and lets his lips meet the center of your palms, the place where his heart resides.

“Keep touching me like that and we’ll have to go again.” He says, word hot from the acolyte adoration you adorned him with. You laugh and something is dancing in your eyes, an ember of sorts that doesn’t hesitate to grow in heat at his prodding.

“That’s fine with me, you make me greedy you know?” You say and he nods because it’s the same for him. Barou’s character is absolute, only you can turn him into a beast that loses itself unto its passion. It’s why you go again, even as the clock reads midnight, always spoiling the beast in your bed and the man in your heart.

[reivrze]

Hey hey heyyyy-

Omg I love ur blog sm 😍-random, ik, but I do rly love it. I love all creators Ngl, the dedication to writing and posting is not something I have 😭.

Anywaysssssss I was wondering if you could do a fanfic/headcannon (u choose) of idol!enhypen and how they would react when their s/o started intensely fangirling over their new concept pics. 99% sure all engenes can relate to that rn 😩.

Oh right….and can I be the 🪷 anon if u do anon claims…?

Thanks smmmmm!

🪷anon

a/n : hiii ! thank you for the kind words, they motivate me so much ♡ ♡. i can definitely relate to ur reqs considering i almost died seeing those concept photos, 100% srs. as for the anon thing, i've put you down as 🪷 anon in my anon list ! anyways, i hope you like the outcome !!

pairing(s): bf!enha/idol!enha × gn!reader genre(s): fluff kinda / headcanons format warning(s): thirsting over enha, this is not proof read, i have no motivation to proof read it, i might do it later

희    ;    heeseung would laugh so hard when he learned from your best friend that you were on the floor, having a meltdown after seeing the concept photos. he had begged for her to send pictures. the people around him giving him weird looks after he bursted out laughing in public. he'd find it even funnier after seeing that he was now your new wallpaper.

제    ;    jay would feel a little embarrased at his pictures but hearing you being a fangirling mess over him would boost his confidence so much, he'd be so thankful that he has you around to remind him constantly that he is hot, sexy, beautiful, amazing, handsome, attractive, pretty, adorable, captivating, sharp, elegant, stylish, every compliment in the dictionary basically.

크    ;    jake would get so happy, like he'd have this sheepish smile when he sees that his phone was getting spammed of you going crazy. he'd call you the minute he was available, he'd be laughing and giggling during the whole 3h of call of you just rambling about hot good he looked in his photos.

성    ;    sunghoon would get super confident but also shy? like internally he gets so timid and finds you adorable but on the outside he plays it off as "yeah i'm hot and i know it". it'd be adorable watching him try to keep his cool when inside, he's literally dying from the happiness he gets when he sees you fangirl over him.

선    ;    sunoo is stuck in between fanboying over you fangirling and side-eyeing you. he'd probably try to act annoyed but he can't hide the fact that his ears would become all red and his cheeks a pink tint. he'd his face in the crook of your neck out of embarrassement.

정    ;    jungwon would feel releived to hear that the pictures came out well and that they're good enough to make you nearly faint. he'd been stressed about if the concept would go well and to hear you rant about how attractive the pictures looked would take weight off his shoulder.

니    ;    niki, niki, niki... ah.. this boy would tease you forever, it's a horrible idea to let him know the effect he has on you. he'd film your little meltdown and would never let you live that down. his ego would skyrocket and for the rest of the month, if you ever whined about anything, he'd pull the video out and threaten to send it to his whole contact list.

© miyu 2023 - do not copy, translate, repost or plagiarise my work anywhere !

[valentine-writes]

Could you write something about hanahaki disease with Johnathon ohnn? (Could end in angst or fluff either is good :3) no rush ofc, i love your work!!!

choking on flowers.

「 tws + notes: open ended ending, implications/mentions of death (but no Actual Death), unedited, OOC, interpretation of hanahaki may be slightly diff (i haven't heard of this trope thing in a hot min ngl so im not the Greatest With This), pre-collider even though his holes generating flowers is a silly thought which i giggled abt while writing this, present/past tenses are fucked up cuz i changed formatting halfway, angst?? 」

「 gn!reader, (unrequited) romantic relationship </3 」

↳ ft. johnathan/johnathon ohnn

author's note: THANK U SMMM!! (∩^o^)⊃━☆ lowkey 4got thiz thing existed lolz,, and while hanahaki aus are no longer My Thing, i wud b lying if i told u i didn't eat hanahaki ficz up in middle school ＞︿＜!! sooo,, here we go!!! hopefully this is ok,, many apologies for how short it iz aauwgwhwh

this is the third time you've called him today, trying to reach out. the first two times, he had thought he was strong enough to ignore you.

he was wrong. the minute his phone rang out that third time, he practically scrambled over to it just to answer. pathetic.

"you haven't been at work for what,,, almost two weeks now?"

the concern in your voice makes johnathan want to keel over dead instantly– not like he's far from it anyways. he pulls his phone away as he lets out a weak cough. you barely hear it from your end of the call.

"...sick." is all he manages to rasp out, his sore throat preventing him from speaking further. even if he could manage to talk more, he wouldn't know what else to say. how would he tell you? the call ends prematurely. you know you're not going to get more out of him, and he knows that it's better to keep you in the dark about his situation.

to tell you about how his unrequited feelings have manifested into something much more than both of you can handle was completely and absolutely out of the question. how was he supposed to explain he had been coughing up your favourite flowers? johnathan would rather let it kill him.

not only was he humiliated by the sheer intensity of his yearning– he knew you'd end up feeling guilty about it. yet, a part of his heart ached, wishing that he was selfish enough to tell you. maybe seeing you cry over him would give him some semblance of love.

that was an awful thought. he promptly pushed it aside. he'd never want to make you cry.

he could only laugh at how frustrating his situation is. it was inescapable, his fate inevitable and ever nearing– and no one to tell.

he had never felt so alone.

at least i'll have flowers for my funeral, he thought in the deafening silence of his home, finding the energy to let out a weak chuckle over the thought.

–

a few days after the call, his phone buzzed, receiving a text from you:

i'm coming over'

straightforward, at least.

'what if you get sick?' he messages back, trying to generate excuses to keep you away.

you reply swiftly, before he can come up with anything else, unswayed by the idea of potentially catching his illness which, unbeknownst to you, wasn't really transferable anyways. 'we'll wear masks then. omw.'

lovely. you were stubborn as ever. at least you gave him a heads up.

he noticed you made no attempt to keep your distance from him as you dropped off his little care package.

all neatly put into a little basket was some fresh fruit you had insisted he needed, as you rambled over the importance of vitamin c and immune health, a sweet little card filled with "get better soon"s filled by his coworkers at alchemax most of which he knew probably didn't really care all that much, a few packages of cough drops you had been a sweetheart to actually choose ones which had bearable flavours, a blanket, a few snacks, and... flowers.

if you had known exactly what illness, he doubted this choice would have been made. he stared at them silently, finding some sort of humor in the mortifying irony.

-

you said an awkward goodbye at his door, about to turn around and head off– before hesitating for a second.

"johnathan?" the way you looked at him, eyes filled with tenderness and worry– maybe it wasn't so bad after all, for you to be the death of him.

"...yeah?"

you didn't say anything further, instead, choosing to communicate through impulsively squeezing him into a tight hug.

you pull away just as quick as it had happened, yet the warmth of your embrace lingered a little longer, even as you headed out the door. something about you caring so much made it hurt more.

johnathan wondered why you even cared, why you were so persistent about looking out for him– knowing that he'd end up watching you slip away from him again, leaving an ache in his heart nothing could remedy.

he couldn't blame you. not sweet, kind, thoughtful you. he was the idiot, the careless fool who yearned for something he couldn't have.

maybe in another life, he thought to himself.

[norakbubbles]

I just finished the final episode of Game of Thrones about two hours ago and....*sighs*

I have many feelings and I'm going to list them:

1. Braime and Theonsa could have been endgame couples if the writers weren't COWARDS-

2. "Bran the Broken" makes me giggle bc they literally couldn't find any other nickname for him

3. I still low-key think Gendry should have been king in the end, given he technically was supposed to have the iron throne after Robert died in the first place

3. Yaayyy Jon, Tormund and Ghost are together again (if s8 ended with me not being able to see Tormund for one last time I would've thrown hands)

4. Literally poor tyrion being made another hand of someone he barely knows when he doesn't want to

5. Bronn wanting to prioritize rebuilding brothels over ships makes me laugh

6. Robin Arryn's glow-up shocked me bc he actually doesn't look like an iPad kid anymore 👏👏

7. Sandor being one of the casualties in the final fight saddened me more than Jaime I'm sorry but it did

8. Ngl I forgot who Edmure Tully was for a hot minute when he showed up

9. Dany's death did not make me upset but Drogon's reaction to her death did idk why

10. Did anyone else go "Now what?" during the last few minutes? Like Sansa being crowned queen of the North and Jon and Tormund going off with the wildlings and Ghost? Like what are they gonna do now? There really aren't any more threats. If anyone does know of any still existing threats by the end of the series let me know

Anyway, I'm pretty sure my mom is tired of hearing me yap about Braime all the time and my sis and I both agree that Theon should have been there with Sansa as she was crowned. I loved the series, and will most likely be moving on to HotD next bc I've heard it's good. Yes season 8 could have been better but in the end, we just have to accept that that's how the series ended and there's nothing we can do about it....

that's what fanfiction is for... 😗

[inseasofgreen]

Can I get and info dump on Sciosa? What if anything inspired you to create her?

yes, always yes.

Sciosa's name actually came from an old mary sue character of mine from middle school, though the character we know now as Sciosa is are from that character. The OG was a whiny crybaby who couldn't do jack shit to save herself and relied on a toxic lover to do everything for her (ew). Sciosa now is borderline over powered and is a very complex and flawed character.

I've said this before but Sciosa can smite a city from existence, but that's not what makes her interesting. It's what got her to that point that she would even consider it and why she would/wouldn't do it. (I use that example a lot when it's not her who is out there destroying cities lmao *eyes Zemorri*)

POTO's whole theme is power corrupts everyone who uses it, and having the mc be such a powerhouse makes it so fun to write. We follow her though 4 books and with each book the line between between "good" and "evil" grows thinner. She's not an antagonist and never will be, I wouldn't even say she's an anti-hero. She's just someone who has repeatedly had her patience and trust be tested by the gods, fate, and the very mortals she was put on nyrus to protect.

When I first created her, it was for a story that has since been scrapped but her role in that was actually very different. Zemorri was the hero and she was to act as a mentor to him and repent for the sins of her past life. She was very bitter and angry, and rarely had a filter on how she truly felt. That part hasn't really changed too much, though her anger doesn't really appear until POTD. Though she still doesn't have a filter, and if she does filter herself you best better worry.

Sciosa at her core is a young women who laments for a "normal" life. She did not ask to be the Dawn Star but she has accepted her fate to the best of her ability and tries to carry the burden with as much grace as she can. She's 30 at the start of POTO, but that's is so, sooo young for both Zaentri and being born into the bloodline of Duskinfall. Zaentri being half Zaentiraeal from her mother and the bloodline of Duskinfall having an extended life expectancy to help maintain the bloodline until the Dawn Star is born. Mentally she is about 18. Imagine asking an 18 year old to make sure ALL living things on earth are sheltered, with have enough food and water to survive until the Hells are defeated (which could be months or years) that there is enough kindling to keep fires lit as the sun will not rise until the demons are either killed or returned to the hells. On top of that she is expected to rally an army and aid the gods in their fight. Girl I'd be pissed off too, she should be at the club.

Oh and there's a lot that inspired her!! Ciri from the Witcher, Daenerys from ASOIAF and GOT (actually season 8 Dany got me curious of how much would it take to truly break a person to the point of pure destruction. Saying this with my full chest, I'm not mad she went crazy I'm mad it wasn't properly written but I digress) Honestly even a bit of Yen from the Witcher too ngl. There's a picture that I've shared before that was basically the birth of POTO because I wanted to write a scene of it but being me I can't just so one scene I had to do a whole series. Weirdly enough even Lunafreya gave me some inspiration for both Sciosa and the High Priestess' of Zenier. I'd say even a little bit of Zelda, though I haven't played any of the legend of Zelda games in a hot hot minute lol. Last one but it just occurred to me and made me laugh but I think at times she reminds me of Jesus? Bro tell me why so many of these people end up being killed... dany, lunafreya, jesus I swear to GOD Sciosa does not die LMAOOO

Oof okay. That was a lot. but thank you for the ask wyked!! I don't talk about her enough tbh, Zemorri kinda just steals the spot light a lot.

[vivaladicamillo]

RYAN DUNN WITH A GOTH AND METALHEAD GN READER

heyy yalll im backkk, took a little break for a bit but IM BACK BABYYYY, ive been getting into goth culture a lot as of recent and have been changing my style to fit around it more so this is js a silly little thing to fuel my brain ☺️☺️ enjoyyy

WARNINGS: none

—————————————

GOTH

ok so really i think ryan would LOVEE a goth s/o

but it depends on the era of him

if we r talking BEGINNING of cky days i feel like he would be into it but NEVERRR let yk abt it

if we r taking 1999 ryan oh my god hed fall in love with u then and there

we all know back then he had a little thing for more hardcore women (COUGH COUGH YALL EVER SEEN GLOREN BRO, the leather jacket RYAN WE KNOW WHO U RR)

i feel like he would be curious about it

just with how intricate the style is

i feel like hed be into all the styles of goth ngl, hes js so curious on how it all works

the closet thing hes really seen of goth is bam fanboying over ville

soo not much to compare it too

i feel like he would ask so many questions

just like “where do u find clothes like that??” “how long does it take u to get ready?” js air headed questions

if u started dating him tho oh my god hes a sweetheart

anything halloween related that looks edgy in the slightest he will buy and say it reminded him of u

will help tie up corsets, clip on necklaces, and always have a spare pair of flat shoes on him just incase ur heels start to kill ur feet

obsessed with the make up, he thinks its so cool (and so hot)

oh bam is lowkey so jealous

especially if u are a fan of ville

ryan would try and color match his shirts to ur outfits

u wearing red? his shirt is gonna be red

purple? he has a purple button up somewhere

hes js so in love w u he doesnt care

will be the type of guy to run to the store last minute to get accessories for an outfit for u

also will buy u those overly expensive edgy ass heels from the store bc he know u will rock them

probably has tried on some of ur platformed shoes or heels and busted his ass

bam would probably be there dying laughing bc of it

or he would casually put on a hair piece or some necklaces and imitate you (he swears it out of love)

honestly would let u give him a gothic makeover, js dont show bam

he doesnt reallyy get whats going on but he loves it anyways bc he loves u

METALHEAD

oh he thinks ur so cool

depending on what metal genre u prefer he would listen to so many songs from it

i feel like he’d be a little intimidated at first bc mf thinks HIM and CKY is hardcore

he will buy patches for ur battle vest

love hearing u go on about the bands

WILL GO TO CONCERTS WITH U

warning tho hes gonna try and fucking stage dive into the mosh pit

hes gonna get his ass KICKED

loves ur accessories

the gauntlet cuffs, the bullet belts he thinks its so edgy and cool

hes a little scared of the corpse paint tho

hes seen bam do it but never fully going out with it

when he walks into the room and see u just with two massive black holes for eyes a white face and a frown drawn on it kinda scares him for a second

but he thinks its so cool after he realized

wants u to do it on him

literally if u do he will js be staring in the mirror of a good 20 lins is awe

will go to bar shows with u

cant fight for shit tho so if someone starts shit goodluck LMAOOO

lowkey would grow his hair out bc one of ur fav bands fav members has long hair

hes wayy more into this probably then the gothic vibe but tbh ryans such a sweetheart if he liked u, HE LOVEDDD u

—————————————-

hey yall so hope u enjoyed, ive been really into both these scenes recently and broo the goth metal style is my favvv, its hella cool. i need to start writing on here again lmk if i should do other cky/jackass members with different styles and genre loving readers!! byeeee :))

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay Visuals - Thriller (part 1 of 2)

(The video isn't a two-parter, but this analysis is! You can find part two HERE, but there'll also be a link at the bottom of this post!) VoicePlay's cover of Michael Jackson's Thriller was released to YouTube on the 12th of October, 2024 (and/or on the 11th - you know how it works), and features the one and only J None, back again with the group! Actually, in case you haven't fully realised it yet, of the 4 Halloween videos that VP has done since he stopped being a permanent member, J has returned for 3 out of 4 of them! (The exception being 2022's Hide And Seek/Ding Dong, ft. Lauren Paley). Also, someone correct me if I'm wrong, but this might be the first time Voiceplay has covered two songs by the same artist in the same year? The first obviously being The Way You Make Me Feel (which has been submitted for consideration to be maybe nominated for a Grammy in two categories!?!) But anyway, I don't wanna get off-topic, and of course I'm not actually here to talk about the music/vocals/arrangement (I did that in a separate post which you can find HERE); I'm here to talk about everything happening on screen! And boy is there a lot to talk about, such that I very quickly realised I would absolutely have to make two posts in order to mention everything (like what I did for Classical Chaos). So enough of my introductory yapping, Let's Get Into This!

Introductory shot! Actually this was the video thumbnail that Patrons got for early access (though I hit play without even looking at it anyway), so we went in way more blind than the rest of y'all did!

The moon lamp once again making an appearance in the background! Geoff first got it for his Jack's Lament video, and then VoicePlay used it for Classical Chaos earlier this year. Also I wouldn't be surprised if some of those gravestones were reused from Jack's Lament as well tbh. (And trees possibly from Be Prepared and/or Classical Chaos?)

Oh yeah and maybe you might see something on the floor behind Cesar's legs? Don't worry about it, it's probably nothing! 😉 😝

(More below the cut!)

J sings "under the moonlight...", and Cesar turns to look back at the moon! (And Layne turns his head as well)

Also the beam of light coming from the top left area shining down to the centre of the floor reminds me of the similar lighting effect from Song Of Durin ngl (as always, Eli was credited with lighting for this one - shocker to no one, and he always kills it every time!)

Also quick comment on the clothing, I like how they're all wearing black and red, but with each with their own take on it. Layne has red shoes (so does J), Cesar has red plaid pants, and J, Eli, and Geoff all have red shirts (and J has red and black trousers (or whatever they are), and Geoff has ripped jeans with red showing through underneath). And of course it's always nice when Geoff is wearing an actual proper colour other than blue! 😁😝

Not fully a visuals thing but I forgot to put it in my musical thoughts/commentary post - I like how Eli sings "you're paralysed!" and then the background vocals sing "you're para-!" but they din't finish the word, as if they've been stopped, or rather paralysed midway through singing! And this is highlighted in the video by Cesar here, so it is still kinda a visual thing as well!

Hey I think that person figure thing on the ground behind Cesar and Layne has gotten closer! It's still probably nothing though, it's fine /j

Actually nevermind, it's not fine - watch out Layne!!!

On my first watch-through of this video on Patreon, I mostly just watched it start to finish without stopping. The only two times I paused were right at the start to take in the starting shot and kind of "psych myself up" to get through the rest of it (again, not knowing anything about the video), and then I rewound a few seconds and paused to try and get a better look at who this zombie person was. And then I stayed paused for like a hot minute while I absolutely died laughing because omg KATHY!!!!! 😂🤣🤣

*YEET*

(Oh the genuine delights of frame-by-frame scrubbing 😂)

So here's some BTS info for you: Geoff was in charge of the production and direction of this video (and song arrangement) (though Tony also helped out with direction too), and apparently his initial idea was for Zombie!Kathy to "bite" Layne's leg, and then just make a face or something as if he tasted bad, and then crawl away or whatever. It was Kathy who had the idea of what actually happens in the video! Geoff wasn't sure at first, but she told Layne the idea and he loved it, and yeah it was absolutely hilarious - definitely VoicePlay Brand Of Dumb (affectionate).

Also you don't really see anything of the ""body double"" that Layne kicks away, but VoicePlay (Geoff specifically I'm presuming) decided to credit 'her' in the description: "Flying Stunt Zombie - Greta The Gruesome" 😂 (Kathy meanwhile is credited as "Production Manager and Floor Zombie")

And also despite being hardly seen, VoicePlay and crew put effort into making Kathy and the doll "Greta" (bought from a Spirit Halloween store inside the same mall as Pattycake Studios) look like each other! Kathy has since posted a couple pics from the videoshoot with her and "Greta" in full makeup and costuming on her Instagram - Here's a link!

Cesar is Concerned (and/or confused, lol)

And so yeah, Kathy was on the floor at the back right from the start! (Though I didn't notice her there at first till the second time around.) Kinda like Geoff's Monster Mash video in that regard! (someone on the Discord server (I believe it was Huldra?) made a joke about this being the result of Narrator/Scientist!Geoff's creation going horribly wrong, lol)

You doing alright there Layne?

*AAAAAAHHHH...*

*...CHOOOO!*

(Oof, rip Cesar!)

Also kinda neat how the lights change back to red right on Layne's sneeze (momentarily going purple in between as well!)

So not only did Eli maybe get some in his eye, or at least almost do so, but Cesar's wiping his sneezed-on hands on him!

Eli: Cesar dude what the heck? Cesar: Hey don't blame me! Layne was the one that sneezed in the first place!

Not exactly an air guitar, but Geoff does kinda look like he's playing some sort of invisible instrument here and it's low-key intriguing to me

A very quick sideways head/neck jerk from Cesar - the first warning sign that the zombie-ness has spread to him as well!

Yep, now it's Cesar's turn!

Shoutout to Cesar's gold painted nails! Very pretty!

And also shoutout to Layne's acting/movements in this video! In most VoicePlay videos you'll likely notice that he has "self-conducting" movements in a similar way to what Geoff does, and you might even notice similar hand movements across multiple videos. But in this video, from the moment he starts looking a bit more sickly/"zombie-like", his movements change a little as well - looking a bit more jerky and stuff, and he seems to mostly be keeping his hands open and flat like in this picture here - less bending of fingers or any sort of fluid "drumming" motions (maybe meant to represent a bit of growing rigor mortis?)

I only just thought of the rigor mortius idea/"theory" just before, and then we get this ~2 second group shot at the start of the bridge section, and Layne barely moves, despite there still being audible percussion - it definitely seems like a deliberate choice! (He's still beatboxing, or at least lip-syncing to it, but it's rare that he keeps his body so still in a video while he's still doing percussion)

Watch out Eli - I think you're next!

*Pfft* rip he's gone

(Cesar in the BTS video: "Can I go for his head?" Geoff: "If he consents to it")

"Well that's not good"

"They're out to get you..."

Geoff isn't the only person to look directly at the camera/viewer in the video, but the verse he does here definitely feels the most like an actual warning, especially with the way he conveys it on screen here, and I guess it lines up nicely with him doing the monologue later. (Also low-key "close all the windows, lock the doors, unless you're careful he'll get yours" vibes ngl)

(Oh and necklace spotted!)

Also this bit low-key reminds me of the end of VoicePlay's Running Up That Hill video, after Ashley levitates and everyone else is just practically frozen, moving only their eyes (and mouths)

Oh no Geoff watch out!!!

(But also goddamn why does he look so good here? Like even with the hands and everything, almost looks like a freaking painting!)

Honestly I find Geoff's bit here really interesting - he's concerned/worried, but he doesn't actually look massively terrified, and he doesn't look like he's ready to run or fight. Like maybe he's almost already accepted the fact that he's next, and it's just a matter of how and when?

(That'd kinda sorta line up with the This Is Halloween video actually, in that everyone is slowly turning into creepy monsters, and Geoff appears to be the one least resistant to it (yes this video can be connected to a lot of other VoicePlay/Geoff videos, and I love it))

(Oh and I gotta give my love to his grey-white parts of Geoff's hair - truly this man ages like fine wine <3)

Not the hair!!!

And down he goes!

(And literally, he was in fact pulled straight downwards! Bent the legs, and Cesar and Layne helped support his weight so he didn't topple straight down - it was kinda amusing to see it happen in the BTS video ngl)

One last thing I will point out is that the jump across to J following this bit is actually not a cut or some fancy transition edit - Geoff's section to J's section is one continuous shot. But with that being said, this is still where I'm cutting this post off, because it's the halfway point (not counting the credits), and I've hit image limit! (I had to remove two images here to make it work but otherwise I managed!) Go find part 2 HERE!