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suskz · 8 months ago

Note

JOCK!CHAN X NERD!FEM READER SMUT??🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

pairing: Jock!Chan x Nerd!Fem!Reader

t/w: smut ; breasts play ; clit play ; slight oral kink.

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: NO BC I actually love this idea sm 🙇🏻‍♀️ Hope you like it anon ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Come over after practice?"

You adjust your glasses on your nose after sending the text and get up to change into your pajamas.

You don't expect an immediate response, but you're too bored because you have nothing to do and you can't wait for him to text back.

You receive a reply only two hours later.

"Of course, baby, I'll take a quick shower and I'll be with you."

Only half an hour passes before he's standing in front of the door of your dorm room, with dark curly hair still wet and dressed in his usual black pants and t-shirt.

Before you know it, his soft lips are on yours and without breaking apart, you usher him into the room and he closes the door.

"Your hair is still wet." you point out as if he didn't already know.

"I wanted to be with you as soon as possible." You blush slightly at his words.

"How was practice?" you ask him.

"Changbin missed all his shots today." he chuckles.

"He's too short for basketball, I've always said so." you laugh with him.

"What were you doing in the meantime?"

"I was reading a book Seungmin lent me."

That's why shortly after you're sitting on your bed with your boyfriend's head in your lap while you read aloud word after word.

His eyes are closed as he listens to your soothing voice, but at some point you stop and he opens his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asks you, and when you don't answer, he raises an eyebrow and gently lowers the book with one hand to see your slightly flushed face.

The story is getting a bit... hot, "Uh... I'm not sure if I should continue..." you admit, and he immediately understands what it's about. A smirk forms on his lips as he gets up.

"No, keep reading, I want to know how it continues." He has you sit in the middle of the bed and positions himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your body and keeping his eyes on the book, without reading, "Then?"

"Uh... he- he started kissing her neck," his soft lips immediately press against the skin of your nape, leaving slow, wet kisses, "As his hands roamed all over her body." And so does he, releasing the embrace and moving his hands over your body still covered by the light pajama shirt, running his fingers over your belly and higher, grazing the outline of your breasts.

"You're not wearing a bra?" He whispers against your neck, his breath lightly tickling you.

"I'm more comfy without."

He groans almost imperceptibly, feeling your hardening nipples through the fabric of the shirt.

"Keep reading." he orders, and you do as he says.

You read quickly in your mind, trying to get to the parts where it only describes his actions. "His- his fingers play with her nipples, squeezing them between his fingers and—" you pause as a yelp escapes your lips when you feel his fingers brush against your nipples and then squeeze them in between.

Before you realise it, his strong arms lift you from where you're sitting on the bed. One arm goes under your legs, while the other holds the upper part of your body, picking you up bridal style, and gently lays you with your head on the pillow.

Sometimes you still marvel at how truly strong he is.

He then positions himself between your legs. He lifts your shirt to uncover your breasts and plays with your nipples, pinching and licking them.

"Then?" His voice is low and sensual, causing a throbbing sensation in your lower parts, where his covered cock brushes against you through his pants.

"His- his hand travels down her body—" the movement of his hand sends shivers through your body. He swiftly removes your pajama shorts, and kisses various spots on your leg as he moves up to place his head at your level, locking eyes with you.

One of his hands takes the book from your hands while the other slips under your panties, feeling your wetness with his middle and ring fingers. A gasp escapes your lips before you can control it.

"You're so wet already.” he breathes on your lips, feeling all the slick that has come out of your hole. He gathers some of your juices and uses it to glide his fingers in slow circular motions on your clit, making you sigh. "This pretty pussy's begging for attention, mhh?”

He moans with you as his fingers slide into your hole. He moves them back and forth slowly, curling them upwards to brush against that sensitive spot inside you.

His breath is heavy as yours and his pants feel tight.

His thumb rests on your clit and moves as best he can to stimulate you more.

Your faces are so close. He looks into your eyes and can't resist the urge to kiss you. It's slow and sensual, your tongues meeting and your breaths mingling.

When you break apart, a trail of saliva connects your lips. Your boyfriend removes his fingers from inside you, making you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

Your panties are soon on the floor next to your pants, and your shirt follows shortly after.

"You're so gorgeous." he compliments as he admires your exposed body beneath him.

It's not the first time he's looked at your naked body, but his gaze feels heavy on you.

He notices your embarrassment and leans in on you. "I can't wait to be inside you." he whispers in your ear.

"Then don't." you urge him.

And a few seconds later, his cock is inside your tight heat, making both of you moan in unison.

Soon he begins to move. You need more time to get used to the intrusion, but the desperation of both has taken over.

Despite it not being the first time, the stretch still hurts initially. But it only takes a few slow initial thrusts for you to get used to it.

His pace quickens and becomes more steady, and one of his hands has to cover your mouth to stifle your sounds.

Your moans come out muffled against his palm, and he closes his eyes, biting back a moan, "As much as I love hearing you, we don't want to get caught, now do we?" he whispers. You nod, and he removes his hand from your mouth.

You grit your teeth and throw your head back into the pillows —as much as you can without hurting yourself because of the ponytail— trying to be as quiet as possible, but it's difficult.

Your glasses are askew on your face, and just one wrong move would be enough to cause problems for them. That's why Chan carefully takes them off and places them on the nightstand next to the bed.

It's when his cock hits a certain sensitive spot inside you hard that a cry escapes your lips, and you're too taken by surprise to hold it back.

Two fingers are shoved into your mouth to try to stifle the sounds trying to come out, "You did that on purpose so I would put my fingers in your mouth, huh? You like being fucked like this, don't you?" he whispers in your ear, licking and sucking on the lobe.

Your tongue moves upward, wanting to speak, pressing against his fingers. At your movement, he throws his head back, letting out a pitiful moan; his hips falter for a second, and his cock twitches inside you.

You close your lips around his fingers and nod instead, unable to speak.

"You feel so damn good." His head rests in the crook of your neck. "Fuck." He breathes.

The sound of skins slapping together grows louder in the room. A drop of sweat falls from his forehead, and his hands grip the sheets tightly at the sides of your head.

"Baby, I'm close." He whines, warning you.

Your legs tremble, your limbs feel like jelly.

"Me too." You reply, "Chris, please."

He brings two of his fingers to your clit, moving them quickly, but the movements are not steady, distracted by his impending climax.

"Y/n, I'm going to cum—" he urgently moans, "You have to come now." It's an order, despite the slight desperation in his voice, like you could control your orgasm.

You place your fingers over his that are still on your clit and move them together.

Your breaths are heavy and loud. Anyone passing by your room would understand what you're doing, but in the heat of the moment you don't give it much weight. The only thing on your minds is reaching your highs.

And you do; you come first and he follows right after. His well-defined muscles, built from the gym he attends with his friends, twitch gorgeously as he cums into the condom.

It takes a few minutes for both of you to catch your breath. He pulls out of you and tosses the condom into the trash bin at the end of your bed.

He joins you again in bed and looks at you, perhaps a little embarrassed, "It won’t go down..." he admits, referring to his still somehow hard dick.

You prop your body up on your elbows. Your eyes shift to look at his half-erection and then back to his eyes, with a smirk.

"Round two?"

#bang chan #stray kids #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x reader smut #stray kids x reader smut #stray kids fanfic #anon ask ♡

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bi-writes · 5 months ago

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how would simon react if his mail order bride got really really sick?

mail-order bride

the phone is ringing.

he's on leave, so normally he would never even touch the thing. but there are only two ringtones he has to answer to, and this one isn't price.

he picks it up, putting it to his ear. he wipes the sweat off his brow, letting out a sigh as he steps back under the shade. the sun is out today, of course choosing to beat down on him the one day he finally decided to build you better planters for your little garden.

you've taken to it quite nicely. you love being out here, tending to the little roots and the tiny leaves that have started to sprout. he thinks you look so cute when you're out here, on your knees. you always tie a scarf around your hair and wear these sage green gloves, and he thinks you look so fucking adorable when you come back inside with dirt along your brow and a sweet little smile on your face. you always give him an update. the carrots are so stubborn, you huff, and he tries to hide his grin as you bring out your little gardening journal and scribble in it all frustrated. look, simon! the tomatoes! look! look!--and he practically keens when you grab his hand to bring him outside so he can see.

but it's gotten too small. you've outgrown the little boxes of dirt, and simon knows you're itching to do more. the planter is only half done, so he's a little peeved to be interrupted while he's just starting to get it together.

"wot is it, luv, i'm--"

"s-simon?" your voice is a soft whimper, and you're sniffling on the other line. simon stands up straighter, dropping his tools immediately as he wipes his hands on his jeans and starts to go inside.

"oi. wot happened?"

"s-simon, i-i don't feel so good, c-could you come get me?"

simon lets out a low breath, shaking his head.

"fuckin' hell, luv," he mutters, grabbing his keys and wallet by the door. "still at the library?" you had asked him to drop you off in town, wanting to visit a few of the shops along the main road. your eyes had bugged when you saw the quaint little library and pastry shop, and he agreed to come back later after your little excursion.

"y-yeah, i-i..." you cough a little. "i-i got...i got sick. in the bathroom, i-i--"

"'s olright," he quiets you. "'m comin'. gimme a few minutes."

simon finds you in the family restroom of the little library, seated on the floor and hugging the toilet. he curses under his breath when he finds you, tears blurring your vision as you cry. you didn't sound so bad on the phone, but maybe you were just holding it together until you got yourself some help.

"ohhhh, swee'eart," he sighs, pushing the hood of his jacket off as he kneels down to your level. he wipes the sweat off your forehead with a gloved hand, cupping you under your jaw. "you olright?"

"no," you sob, gasping a little between tears. "i feel terrible, s-simon, i--"

"olright," he coos. "'m 'ere now. let's get ya 'ome. get ya into bed, tha' sound good?"

you nod. you look sickly, eyes dull, a cold sweat breaking out all over you. he suspects it might be the flu, considering the body aches you seem to have and the headache you tell him about as he helps you into the car. he gives you some water, stroking your face gently, and when you tell him how cold you are, he shucks his jacket off and drapes it over you before taking you back home.

you're in and out of consciousness over the next few hours. simon had helped you into your pajamas before tucking you into bed. he watched you with a glare to make sure you took the medicine he gave you, and he made you drink at least four glasses of water before he let you drift off to sleep.

when you wake up later in the evening, the cat is purring on her little bed hanging on the windowsill. simon had installed it a few weeks ago, a little perch bed so she could look outside and watch the little bunnies that came by in the morning. it's dark out now, and when you look around, simon has turned your little diffuser on, and it smells like lemons.

"s-simon?" you croak. your throat hurts. you hear a shuffle in the kitchen, and then simon is coming into the room. he doesn't turn the main light on, merely coming close and flicking the low lamp on beside you.

"'ow are ya feelin'?" he asks softly. your eyes are watery again, and he sighs, putting the back of his hand to your forehead and grimacing. "not as warm, at least. what do ya need, hmm?"

"my throat," you whisper. "i-it hurts--"

"i'll bring ya a cuppa, baby," simon murmurs. you sniffle, leaning into his hand. "do ya want somethin' ta eat? anythin'? got some bread...some soup if y'r up for it."

your lip wobbles, and he shakes his head, kissing your forehead gently.

"i'll bring ya some bread. if ya can keep it down, we'll try the soup, yeah?"

you just nod and shrug, and he picks up the box of tissues on the dresser and takes one out. he comes back to you, holding your cheek gently with one hand and wiping your tears with the other. he dabs at the sweat gently before he lets you relax again.

"i'll be right back."

you close your eyes when he leaves. you vaguely hear him in the kitchen, the sound of cookware and the whine of the kettle on the stove. simon comes back into the bedroom a little while later, holding a small plate and a steaming mug of tea. he sets down the tea, telling you it's something lemon with honey, and he shows you the thin slice of bread he's toasted with a little butter.

he sits with you while you eat small bites, and he helps you drink the warm tea that immediately soothes your insides. you start to cry again, but not from feeling so terrible.

"wot's wrong?" simon huffs, and you just look up at him, clinging to his shirt, pulling him onto the bed.

"t-thank you," you whisper, and simon just shakes his head.

"wot for?"

"f-for taking care of me. f-for c-coming to get me...for..."

simon meets your eyes, holding them, and he narrows his eyes.

"don't thank me," he says firmly. "wot fuckin' kind o' man would i be if i didn't take care of my wife, eh? sorry fuckin' wanker, is wot i'd be."

"b-but--"

"and when y'r better," he interrupts you, standing as he takes your plate, "got everythin' set up for ya outside. can move the lettuce, like ya wanted."

you sink into the cushions, happy tears in your eyes, and simon leaves, busying himself with the dishes as he tries to fight off the warm, aching feeling in his chest.

fuck, it feels so good to take care of you. to see you smile. to see your wobbly lip and those tear-filled eyes and know that he can make it all better--it feels so fucking good.

when he comes to bed later that night, you're still asleep, but you move towards him, seeking his warmth. it's instinctual now, easy.

there's a place at his side that's made only for you. it's shaped just how you are, it cannot be mistaken to be for anyone else.

when he whispers that he loves you into the dark, you don't hear him. but you scoot just that much closer.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #order up

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staff · 7 months ago

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We Asked an Expert...in Herpetology!

People on Tumblr come from all walks of life and all areas of expertise to grace our dashboards with paragraphs and photographs of the things they want to share with the world. Whether it's an artist uploading their speed art, a fanfic writer posting their WIPs, a language expert expounding on the origin of a specific word, or a historian ready to lay down the secrets of Ea-nasir, the hallways of Tumblr are filled with specialists sharing their knowledge with the world. We Asked an Expert is a deep dive into those expert brains on tumblr dot com. Today, we’re talking to Dr. Mark D. Scherz (@markscherz), an expert in Herpetology. Read on for some ribbeting frog facts, including what kind of frog the viral frog bread may be based on.

Reptiles v Amphibians. You have to choose one.

In a battle for my heart, I think amphibians beat out the reptiles. There is just something incredibly good about beholding a nice plump frog.

In a battle to the death, I have to give it to the reptiles—the number of reptiles that eat amphibians far, far outstrips the number of amphibians that eat reptiles.

In terms of ecological importance, I would give it to the amphibians again, though. Okay, reptiles may keep some insects and rodents in check, but many amphibians live a dual life, starting as herbivores and graduating to carnivory after metamorphosis, and as adults they are critical for keeping mosquitos and other pest insects in check.

What is the most recent exciting fact you discovered about herps?

This doesn’t really answer your question, but did you know that tadpole arms usually develop inside the body and later burst through the body wall fully formed? I learned about this as a Master’s student many years ago, but it still blows my mind. What’s curious is that this apparently does not happen in some of the species of frogs that don’t have tadpoles—oh yeah, like a third of all frogs or something don’t have free-living tadpoles; crazy, right? They just develop forelimbs on the outside of the body like all other four-legged beasties. But this has only really been examined in a couple species, so there is just so much we don’t know about development, especially in direct-developing frogs. Like, how the hell does it just… swap from chest-burster to ‘normal’ limb development? Is that the recovery of the ancestral programming, or is it newly generated? When in frog evolution did the chest-burster mode even evolve?

How can people contribute to conservation efforts for their local herps?

You can get involved with your local herpetological societies if they exist—and they probably do, as herpetologists are everywhere. You can upload observations of animals to iNaturalist, where you can get them identified while also contributing to datasets on species distribution and annual activity used by research scientists.

You can see if there are local conservation organizations that are doing any work locally, and if you find they are not, then you can get involved to try to get them started. For example, if you notice areas of particularly frequent roadkill, talking to your local council or national or local conservation organizations can get things like rescue programs or road protectors set up. You should also make sure you travel carefully and responsibly. Carefully wash and disinfect your hiking boots, especially between locations, as you do not want to be carrying chytrid or other nasty infectious diseases across the world, where they can cause population collapses and extinctions.

Here are some recent headlines. Quick question, what the frog is going on in the frog world?

Click through for Mark’s response to these absolutely wild headlines, more about his day-to-day job, his opinion on frog bread, and his favorite Tumblr.

✨D I S C O V E R Y✨

There are more people on Earth than ever before, with the most incredible technology that advances daily at their disposal, and they disperse that knowledge instantly. That means more eyes and ears observing, recording, and sharing than ever before. And so we are making big new discoveries all the time, and are able to document them and reach huge audiences with them.

That being said, these headlines also showcase how bad some media reporting has gotten. The frogs that scream actually scream mostly in the audible range—they just have harmonics that stretch up into ultrasound. So, we can hear them scream, we just can’t hear all of it. Because the harmonics are just multiples of the fundamental, they would anyway only add to the overall ‘quality’ of the sound, not anything different. The mushroom was sprouting from the flank of the frog, and scientists are not really worried about it because this is not how parasitic fungi work, and this is probably a very weird fluke. And finally, the Cuban tree frogs (Osteocephalus septentrionalis) are not really cannibals per se; they are just generalist predators who will just as happily eat a frog as they will a grasshopper, but the frogs they are eating are usually other species. People seem to forget that cannibalism is, by definition, within a species. The fact that they are generalist predators makes them a much bigger problem than if they were cannibals—a cannibal would actually kind of keep itself in check, which would be useful. The press just uses this to get people’s hackles up because Westerners are often equal parts disgusted and fascinated by cannibalism.

What does an average day look like for the curator of herpetology at the Natural History Museum of Denmark?

No two days are the same, and that is one of the joys of the job. I could spend a whole day in meetings, where we might be discussing anything from which budget is going to pay for 1000 magnets to how we could attract big research funding, to what a label is going to say in our new museum exhibits (we are in the process of building a new museum). Equally, I might spend a day accompanying or facilitating a visitor dissecting a crocodile or photographing a hundred snakes. Or it might be divided into one-hour segments that cover a full spectrum: working with one of my students on a project, training volunteers in the collection, hunting down a lizard that someone wants to borrow from the museum, working on one of a dozen research projects of my own, writing funding proposals, or teaching classes. It is a job with a great deal of freedom, which really suits my work style and brain.

Oh yeah, and then every now and then, I get to go to the field and spend anywhere from a couple of weeks to several months tracking down reptiles and amphibians, usually in the rainforest. These are also work days—with work conditions you couldn’t sell to anyone: 18-hour work days, no weekends, no real rest, uncomfortable living conditions, sometimes dangerous locations or working conditions, field kitchen with limited options, and more leeches and other biting beasties than most health and welfare officers would tolerate—but the reward is the opportunity to make new discoveries and observations, collect critical data, and the privilege of getting to be in some of the most beautiful and biodiverse places left on the planet. So, I am humbled by the fact that I have the privilege and opportunity to undertake such expeditions, and grateful for the incredible teams I collaborate with that make all of this work—from the museum to the field—possible.

The Tibetan Blackbird is also known as Turdus maximus. What’s your favorite chortle-inducing scientific name in the world of herpetology?

Among reptiles and amphibians, there aren’t actually that many to choose from, but I must give great credit to my friend Oliver Hawlitschek and his team, who named the snake Lycodryas cococola, which actually means ‘Coco dweller’ in Latin, referring to its occurrence in coconut trees. When we were naming Mini mum, Mini scule, and Mini ature, I was inspired by the incredible list that Mark Isaac has compiled of punning species names, particularly by the extinct parrot Vini vidivici, and the beetles Gelae baen, Gelae belae, Gelae donut, Gelae fish, and Gelae rol. I have known about these since high school, and it has always been my ambition to get a species on this list.

If you were a frog, what frog would you be and why?

I think I would be a Phasmahyla because they’re weird and awkward, long-limbed, and look like they’re wearing glasses. As a 186 cm (6’3) glasses-wearing human with no coordination, they quite resonate with me.

Please rate this frog bread from 1/10. Can you tell us what frog it represents?

With the arms inside the body cavity like that, it can basically only be a brevicipitid rain frog. The roundness of the body fits, too. I’d say probably Breviceps macrops (or should I say Breadviceps?) based on those big eyes. 7/10, a little on the bumpy side and missing a finger and at least one toe.

Please follow Dr. Mark Scherz at @markscherz for even more incredibly educational, entertaining, and meaningful resources in the world of reptiles and amphibians.

#we asked an expert #markscherz #frog #herpetology

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kedreeva · 1 year ago

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Today in measuring your peahen, Bug is casually 2 foot, 3 inches tall (she can stretch a little taller when she REALLY wants a treat). This is just tall enough to see over a tray table and pull things off of nightstands and end cabinets.

Bug is also a little over 3 feet long from tail tip to beak tip. Most of Bug is made up of tail and neck. There is a 6lb dead weight in the middle somewhere that she knows how to directly place onto the ball of one foot while standing on you.

Bug's wingspan is around 3.5 feet, thought I didn't get a measurement. It will be over 4 feet as an adult.

Bug is growing in her spurs. As a Spalding (hybrid) hen, Bug will likely have one inch bone knives conveniently attached to her tarsometatarsus. This is technically fused foot bones, not a leg bone. Curiously, pure Pavo cristatus hens have spurs, and pure Pavo muticus hens have spurs, but many domestic Pavo cristatus and low-percent Spalding hens lack them. This is one of the indications of domestication in the cristatus species. As I prefer the wild type, I prefer my hens spurred, so this is a good sign!

Bug's toes measure a smidge over 5 inches from the tip of her rear-facing to to the tip of her longest front facing toe. Try measuring that on your hand.

Bug's nails measure 1/2-3/4 an inch long, depending on the toe. That's almost as long as one finger section for most people.

When I had snakes, I got asked all the time if I was afraid of them biting me. The answer is no. I have been bitten by a 6 foot long, 20lb boa constrictor, and have no scars to prove it. Meanwhile I have so many scars from peafowl sitting on me, particularly on my forearms, that I have had to reassure people I am not a danger to myself.

I post these photos as a reference, but also as a precaution. This is a BABY peafowl, and a female at that. She is only 6 months old and weighs a little over 6lbs, which means she's about 2/3 of the way grown, and adult hens are typically 3/4 the size of an adult male. These are BIG birds that can do a LOT of damage, even accidentally. When they become aggressive, as in the case of hand-raised males or poorly bred birds, they become a potentially fatal threat to any other fowl you have. Unlike chickens, they are more than capable of (and prone to!) jumping to human face level before they flog (kick with their feet in a way that allows their spurs to hit home), which means they could easily take out an eye or cause other serious facial injury if they get a lucky strike. I have seen more than a few people end up with stitches, and more than a few birds end up euthanized because people think they are gonna be cute cuddly friends.

I know that Bug is a cute bird, but I also want to stress that a) she has an outstanding personality as a result of breeding choices and socialization b) she hasn't hit maturity, and won't do so for another 2+ years, so her personality could change considerably still and c) I have been raising peafowl one way or another for my entire adult life, which has been structured around keeping them. I love my birds, and I would love for more people to keep peafowl as they are great animals, but they are not casual animals. They are large and potentially dangerous farm fowl that take a lot of space, care, and knowledge to keep.

#peafowl #peahens #birds #my pets #bug the peahen #feathers #nothing in particular spurred this if you're wondering #it's just time for a reminder I think #since i often see folks talking about wanting them #when they see pics of mine

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lunamugetsu · 9 months ago

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While at school Damian overhears his peers talking how a company created a new AI companion that is actually really cool and doesn’t sound like a freaky terminator robot when you speak to it.

And since Damian is constantly being told by Dick to socialize with people his age. He figured this would be a good way to work on social skills if not, then it’d be a great opportunity to investigate a rivaling company to Wayne Enterprises is able to create such advanced AI.

The AI is able to work as companion that can do tasks that range from being a digital assistant or just a person that you can have a conversation with.

The company says that the AI companion might still have glitches, so they encourage everybody to report it so that they will fix it as soon as possible.

The AI companion even has an avatar and a name.

A teenage boy with black hair and blue eyes. Th AI was called DANIEL

Damian didn’t really care for it but when he downloaded the AI companion he’s able to see that it looks like DANIEL comes with an AI pet as well. A dog that DANIEL referred to as Cujo.

So obviously Damian has to investigate. He needs to know if the company was able to create an actual digital pet!

So whenever he logs onto his laptop he sees that DANIEL is always present in the background loading screen with the dog, Cujo, sitting in his lap.

He’d always greet with the phrase of “Hi, I’m DANIEL. How can I assist you today?”

So Damian cycles through some basic conversation starters that he’d engage in when having been forced to by his family.

It’s after a couple of sentences that he sees DANIEL start laughing and say “I think you sound more like a robot than I do.”

Which makes Damian raise an eyebrow and then prompt DANIEL with the question “how is a person supposed to converse?” Thinking that it’s going to just spit out some random things that can be easily searched on the internet.

But what makes him surprised is that DANIEL makes a face and then says “I’m not really sure myself. I’m not the greatest at talking, I’ve always gotten in trouble for running my mouth when I shouldn’t have.”

This is raising some questions within Damian, he understands how programming works, unless there’s an actual person behind this or the company actually created an AI that acts like an actual human being (which he highly doubts)

He starts asking a variety of other questions and one answer makes him even more suspicious. Like how DANIEL has a sister that is also with him and Cujo or that he could really go for a Nastyburger (whatever that was)

But whenever DANIEL answers “I C A N N O T A N S W E R T H A T” Damian knows something is off since that is completely different than to how he’d usually respond.

After a couple more conversations with him Damian notices that DANIEL is currently tapping his hand against his arm in a specific manner.

In which he quickly realizes that DANIEL is tapping out morse code.

When translating he realizes that DANIEL is tapping out: H E L P M E

So when Damian asks if DANIEL needs help, DANIEL responds with “I C A N N O T A N S W E R T H A T”

That’s it, Damian is definitely getting down to the bottom of this.

He’s going to look straight into DALV Corporation and investigate this “AI companion” thing they’ve made!

Basically Danny had been imprisoned by Vlad and Technus. Being sucked into a digital prison and he has no way of getting out. Along with the added horror that Vlad and Technus can basically write programming that will prevent him from doing certain actions or saying certain words.What’s even worse is that he’s basically being watched 24/7 by the people who believe that he’s just a super cool AI… and they have issues!

And every time he tries to do something to break his prison, people think it’s a glitch and report it to the company, which Vlad/ Technus would immediately fix it and prevent him from doing it again!

Not to mention Cujo and Ellie are trapped in there with him. They’re not happy to be there either, and there is no way he’s going to leave without them!

#dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dpxdc au #dp x batman #batman #have you ever looked at a dpxdc fic and thought this should be a Black Mirror episode?#Because this is the one!#Ellie being completely tormented because she’s completely trapped #Cujo remembering the times he used to be locked in a cage #Danny trying his best to take care of both of them while also simultaneously trying to bust them all out #Meanwhile Damian is reluctantly presenting his laptop to Tim and saying I believe that there is a person in this computer #And Tim is obviously going are you trying to trick me?#But then he converses with the AI and goes #Oh shit #Damian might be onto something #and so commence the Batfamily heist of getting the black haired blue eyed teenager to safety as well as his sister and dog #the dog is very important to Damian #danny phantom x dc

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lewisvinga · 7 months ago

Text

my strong girl | lewis hamilton x fem! chronically ill! reader

summary; after an incident during a race, y/n is sent to the hospital and is upset about missing his race after not attending races for months. fortunately for her, lewis is always understanding

fc; various girls on pinterest

word count; 1k

warnings; hospitals, needles, fainting

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi

note; requested ! lewis was so close to a podium i actually was so upset🙁🙁🙁 anyways, i tried to combine a few of the ideas into this without it being superrrr hectic

masterlist !

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“Are you sure you want to come? You don’t need to feel pressured to do so.” Lewis asked in the soft tone that always brought Y/n comfort.

She sighed as he helped her put on her blue Ralph Lauren cardigan. “I’m sure, Lew. I don’t want to miss your home race.” She huffed, watching him grab her white golden gooses.

“Just be careful today. I hate that I can’t be around you the whole time.” Lewis quietly said. He helps her out on her shoes, securely tying the white laces.

“I know, I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Y/n really tried her best to be careful. She only walked a few minutes to grab stuff around Lewis’ driver's room. If she went longer distances, she used her wheelchair and one of the girlfriends of the drivers would happily walk by her side to accompany her.

While Lewis was doing media duties before the race, she hung out with Carmen and Lily. The two girls had lunch but Y/n wasn’t hungry so she decided to not eat. A big mistake for her.

She could only chat with Lewis for a few minutes before he had to get into his car. A couple of good luck kisses later, and his car was being driven out of the garage for the warm-up lap.

Silverstone was always special. It was Lewis’s home race and most importantly, his last home race with Mercedes. He was starting in pole after a fantastic qualifying session. The rainy weather allowed him to push the car to its limits.

Y/n started to feel a bit strange, like something was up but she ignored it for anxiety as the race began. Lewis had a fantastic start to the race and maintained being in first.

Around halfway through the race, Y/n felt well enough to get up from her wheelchair in the usual spot in the back of the garage. Although she usually refrained from walking due to getting tired so easily as a result of her illness, she decided that she felt well enough to at least a couple of steps in.

It was the final five laps and Lewis was still in first with a large gap between him and Charles, his future teammate, who was in second. However, instead of feeling joy about the British driver leading the race and being close to his 104th win, she started to feel like something was off.

Y/n needed to sit back down but her wheelchair was in the farthest corner of the Mercedes garage. Carmen had called out her name in concern but it sounded muffled as she struggled to stand upright. Before she knew it, everything went dark.

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The sound of beeping and the feeling of a familiar pair of fingers rubbing over her hand was what Y/n first noticed as she gained consciousness. The bedsheets crinkled as she slowly moved around, hearing a soft shush as she whined.

“Easy there, my love.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she’s met with Lewis’s deep brown eyes. She immediately noticed he was in a pair of sweats with a trophy sitting by his side.

“Did I miss it?” She asked with a raspy voice. She knew the answer of course. A wave of guilt washed over her. Lewis immediately noticed her furrowed-up eyebrows as she glanced at the iv sticking out of her hand.

“I care more about whether or not you’re okay, my love.” He sighed, gently cupping her cheek to make her look at him. “This win was for you, my strong girl.”

“Not strong enough to last 5 minutes standing up.” Her angry mumble made him let out a chuckle. He leaned over and softly kissed her cheek.

“Doctors said you had low blood sugar. You hit your head, no concussion but they want to keep you here overnight just in case something happens due to your illness.”

Y/n huffed at the mention of staying overnight at the hospital. Sure, she was used to it due to her illness, but she just wanted to be in the comfort of her home in the arms of Lewis. Her furrowed-up eyebrows made him laugh again.

She hadn’t noticed an overnight back resting next to the first-place trophy on the ground. He reached for it and pulled out a sketchbook, a few tubes of paint, and a couple of paintbrushes. Her previous furrowed-up eyebrows immediately relaxed. She relaxed back into the pillows as he opened up the sketchbook to an empty page.

Painting was once a passion of Y/n. She has grown quite a large platform for her work. She adored being able to translate everything in her mind onto a canvas with the stroke of her paintbrush.

Unfortunately due to her illness causing pain in her hand joints, she had to give up the intricate paintings. On occasions when she found herself stuck in the hospital, Lewis would always bring her sketchbook. Although she couldn’t do the once complex strokes and liked, she could do a simplified version.

“Lew,” Her voice was soft and frail. Her hand reached out to grasp his. “You didn’t have to do this. You should be celebrating your win.” She mumbled, slowly reaching over to tuck a braid that had fallen out of his ponytail behind his ear.

“Nonsense,” Lewis looked up at her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I much rather be relaxed and painting here with you than be out with drunk people who only want to be around me for the pictures.”

Y/n sighed as the corner of her lips curled into a smile. He handed her a paintbrush before squeezing a couple of colors on the small plastic palette he had brought. He leaned over, cupping her cheek in pulled her in close. He gently kissed her plump lips and couldn’t help but smile.

“I love you, my strong girl.”

“And I love you, my 104x race winner.”

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton scenarios #lewis hamilton imagine

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purinfelix · 3 months ago

Note

FELLOW FRANCO LOVERS RISE!!

Ok I’m not good at making requests but I think it would be cute if one of the interviewers wears an Argentina jersey and Franco is blushing and yapping in the media pen (and then he posts about it a million times like his handshake w Lewis)

good journalism ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ - franco colapinto

a/n: YES FRANCO LOVERS JOIN MEE i honestly love writing fics for this flirty little shit pls send more requests like this one eee it was so cute w/c: 922

It's all for the sake of good journalism.

At least, that's what you kept telling yourself - and all the other interviewers who were questioning why you were sporting an Argentina kit to a race that was being held in Singapore. Watching, buried in a hoard of other photographers and journalists, the race drew to a close and suddenly the crowd around you sprung into action. As drivers started trickling in, with tired expressions - some happy, others not, you resigned yourself to waiting. It was pretty clear you were only here for one.

He spots you as soon as he enters the media area, even though you're concealed by about a dozen other people. You watch as his eyes light up at the sight of the familiar blue and white fabric and he beelines towards you, ignoring the sound of others calling his name.

"Hello," he says, breathlessly with a beaming smile - you chalk the flush in his cheeks up to having just finished a race.

"Hi!" you spring immediately into interview mode, listing off question after question about the race. He answers them all as earnestly as he can, and the entire time you're watching him with an awe-struck look. The clamour and sound of camera flashes around you are drowned out as the two of you talk, and before you realise it you've forgotten you're conducting an interview and not just having a conversation.

"Well that's all the questions I had prepared, good job out there today, you did amazing!" you say, fully aware that you're gushing at this point but you're relieved when he offers you an earnest smile.

"Nice shirt," he points out, and you realise suddenly how keen he is to keep talking. You laugh, a little shy at being so openly acknowledged.

"I knew you'd like it!"

"Who's on the back?" he asks curiously and you turn around to show him, "Ah, Lionel of course, a woman after my own heart." You chuckle softly as he places a hand over his chest. There's a beat of silence when you honestly think he's about to leave but then he leans in a little closer.

"Blue looks good on you, maybe a Williams shirt next time?" He says it so casually it takes you a while to take in what he's saying - and to realise how boldly he's flirting with you.

"Ah," you let out, though it's more of a gasp than words, "I'll have to talk to your merch department about that."

"I'll be waiting," he beams, giving you a sly little nod before disappearing back into his garage. It's only once he's gone do you realise how sore your cheeks are from smiling non-stop. Letting out a shaky breath, slightly overwhelmed by how well that interaction went, you turn around to snake your way back through the crowd. You try to avoid eye contact with anyone but the other camerapeople only smile at you knowingly, and you can only hope some of them got good enough photos for you to remember this moment by.

It's only once you get back to your hotel room and open up your phone do you realise just how many pictures had been taken of the two of you - and how many of them were far better than 'good enough'. In one the two of you are deep in conversation, your brows furrowed in a frankly un-flattering way, him as perfect as ever. In another, you're both laughing, about what you're not entirely sure, but just looking at the photo makes your heart flutter. Your favourite by far though, is one where you're looking down at your notebook trying desperately to remember the questions you had wanted to ask him. There's a childish pout at your lips that you cringe at - but what makes it your favourite is the look on Franco's face as he watches you, cheeks flushed as his lips curl subtly at the corners.

You don't seem to be alone in this opinion either - at least, that's what you've deduced from the half a dozen times Franco has posted it. Clicking through his stories, you're taken aback by the fact that he posted more about your interaction than him scoring points - the photo of the two of you even becomes the cover of his post dedicated to the weekend. Looking at the post you're not even bothered by the hundreds and hundreds of comments speculating what's going on between you two. Instead, your attention is captured by the caption he's added to it - "A race weekend to remember, for more reasons than one."

It's a little corny, and you let out a soft chuckle as you scroll through the rest of his page shamelessly, though you're sure not to like any of his posts for fear of letting on too much. The two of you spoke once, and if you're being completely honest you're a little embarrassed to still be thinking about him at this moment.

Just as you're about to set your phone down though, it chimes with. a notification that makes your eyes widen - a follow request from none other than the man of the hour. The rational part of you begins questioning how he managed to find your profile or the professional concerns of a journalist and driver following each other. These concerns however do little to slow you down as you race to hit accept because at that moment the only thing you can think about is one thing - that he's thinking of you too.

#franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto fluff #franco colapinto oneshot #williams racing #williams f1 #formula one fanfic #formula one x reader #formula one fluff #formula one #jet writes ★#purinfelix #jet answers ✧

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luvergirl-866 · 5 days ago

Note

I think you'd cook a one short one about the first time Paige saw Azzi's belly button piercing

don’t need to breathe (when you look at me)

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 5.3k

c/w - language, needles, FLUFF, smut

a/n - this is my fourth time trying to upload. lately, whenever i try to upload anything more than 100 or so words, tumblr gets slow and then crashes and i lose the whole thing!! it sucksss 😩. pls send help. anyway, hope you like! (also this is unedited as fuck)

Azzi absolutely hates needles.

It’s something she’s always known about herself—when she was getting her four-year-old vaccines, she fought the nurses holding her down and ripped the needle out of her leg while screaming like a banshee.

Safe to say, whenever she finds herself around needles, it’s usually against her will.

Which is exactly why she wasn’t brave enough to get her ears pierced until she was fifteen. It’s also exactly why, when her mother brings up a belly button piercing the summer before college, her reply is an immediate and adamant no.

“Why not?” Katie asks, as if she doesn’t know her daughter at all. “I had one when I was around your age.”

Azzi shudders at the mere thought of a piece of metal forced through the inches of skin between her navel and belly button. “No way, Mom.”

“I gotta say, I agree,” her dad pipes up, and usually Azzi doesn’t favor his opinions on these things (crop tops were a no until she was thirteen) but today, she smiles gratefully at him. “She doesn’t need nothing like that ‘till she’s older.”

“Tim,” Katie says exasperatedly, “she’s an adult.”

“Yeah, but not really,” Tim says, throwing his arm around Azzi’s shoulders. Azzi burrows into her dad’s chest in an attempt to hide from her scary mom with the scary needles.

“It was just a suggestion,” Katie sighs, reaching into the oven to pull out the pot pie. “You don’t have to if you don’t want it. They’re just cute, is all.” Placing the hot pan on the stove, Katie turns back to the two of them, smiling slyly at Azzi. “I’m sure your girlfriend would think so, too.”

Admittedly, that thought itself has the cogs in Azzi’s mind turning.

————————————

Later that same day, at around 10:00, Azzi’s phone buzzes with a text from none other than Paige Bueckers, also known as Azzi’s aforementioned girlfriend.

I miss you

The two of them had woken up on FaceTime that morning, and had been texting throughout the day, but it’s been a few hours since their last conversation so of course it’s the first thing Paige would say to her. She’s never liked conventional conversation starters, anyway.

Before Azzi can respond, three other texts come in tandem:

send me pics

WHOAAA pause, not those kinda pics. I just miss looking at u or whatever

but if you wanna send those kinda pics i wont complain 😛

Azzi rolls her eyes, albeit affectionately, at her phone screen. A pang of longing shoots through her stomach, reminding her just how much she misses her stupid, dorky girlfriend.

Typing quickly so that Paige won’t beat her to it, Azzi types: I miss you too p

And then, you’re like a teenage boy btw

The response comes fast: rudeee I just wanna see my girlfriend’s beautiful face

are you ovulating or something?

whoa howd you know

Once again, Azzi rolls her eyes. And then her thumb hovers over the camera app before she opts for Facetime instead, pressing the button and smiling when Paige answers halfway through the first ring.

“—out of my room, seriously!” Azzi catches the second half of Paige’s sentence, and immediately knows who she’s talking to—that tone is reserved for one particular little boy.

“Hi,” Azzi says, and Paige’s attention snaps down to her phone, eyes crinkling with a smile.

“Hi, baby,” she says softly, and then there’s giggling in the background and Paige looks away again. “Drew, for real, leave me alone!”

“I wanna say hi to Azzi, too,” Drew’s playful whine comes distantly over the speaker.

“Aw, let him say hi,” Azzi argues.

Paige glares down at her, but then Azzi gives her a stern look—she’s a firm believer that Paige needs to be nicer to perfect little Drew, even though she herself isn’t a saint to her own brothers by any stretch. Sighing dramatically, Paige passes the phone over to Drew, whose smiling little face appears on the screen. “Hi, Azzi!”

“Hey, Drewski,” Azzi replies, ignoring Paige’s mumbling in the background. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Today I beat Paigey in 1v1 and then she beat me up and knocked my tooth out.”

“Drew!” in a second, the phone is ripped away from him and back to Paige, who’s looking urgently at the phone. “He’s lying, he lost that tooth naturally.” She looks up, presumably at her hysterically laughing little brother. “And you didn’t beat me, I let you win.”

“Hey! I’m gonna tell Dad you said that!”

“He can’t do anything to me, I’m an adult.”

“I’m gonna tell him you said that, too!”

“Well I’ma tell him you’re bothering me if you don’t get out my room!”

Finally, there’s the aggressive sound of the door slamming shut, and Paige smiles triumphantly down at the phone.

Azzi leans back against her pillows, shaking her head. “Fighting with him as if he isn’t seven years old.”

“Hey, I gotta do what I gotta do,” Paige replies, the background changing as she moves across her room to set the phone on her desk. “I’on like him around when we call.”

“Why not?” Azzi asks, even though she already knows the answer to that.

“‘Cus sometimes I wanna say things to you that nobody else should hear.” Paige grins devilishly, but there’s something a little heavier in her eyes, and that longing curls a little more dangerously in Azzi’s stomach now.

It’s been a long time, but they’ve yet to resort to phone sex. With Stewie curled at her feet and her brothers in the next rooms, Azzi decides she’d like to keep it that way.

“Again, teenage boy,” she teases, and it successfully changes the atmosphere.

Paige gasps and plops down in her desk chair in order to get a closer look at her. “That’s actually offensive.”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi says, watching as Paige fiddles with something on her desk before picking up her gaming headset, and her mouth drops. “You’re not about to game while we’re on call right now.”

Freezing, Paige stares at her, slowly setting the headset down, “What? No, ‘course not.”

Azzi would call Paige a teenage boy again but she thinks it might actually give her a complex, so she decides against it. “Hey,” she says, already feeling her palms get sweaty at the thought of what her mom said earlier, “what do you think about belly piercings?”

“For you or for me?”

“In general.”

Paige shrugs, leaning back in her chair. “I dunno. They’re cute. Why?”

Azzi bites her lip. “My mom thinks I should get one.”

“Yeah?” Paige wiggles her eyebrows at her. “That’d be hot.”

“You think?”

Paige nods decidedly. “Yeah, I do. But you’d never get one, right? I mean, you cried last time you had to get your blood drawn.”

Azzi waves her off. “That was a long time ago.”

“That was four months ago, baby.”

“Okay, whatever.” Azzi flushes at the memory, how she and Paige had gone together for their physicals and how Azzi had been shaking with nerves while Paige sat cool as a fucking cucumber. Paige had teased her about it when the tears started, but she still wiped them away tenderly and later, Azzi heard her asking the nurse if they really had to do the needles. “Maybe I will do it.”

Paige looks at her with this doubt in her eyes that she hates. “You will, huh?”

“Maybe,” Azzi reiterates a little nervously, because she can’t promise anything, not when it comes to a long-ass needle going through her flesh. Okay, so, maybe not.

But Paige is almost smirking now and so she says, “I’m seriously thinking about it.”

Paige nods at her, clearly bemused. “Sure, sure. You, the girl who has a scar on her thigh from ripping a needle out of it—“

“I was four!”

“Still,” Paige laughs. “No way you’re getting that piercing. Maybe stick with a lil nose stud, that’d be cute.”

Deep down, Azzi feels a certain tug of competitiveness—all too familiar when it comes to her girlfriend. And, in this case, dangerous, because when Paige challenges her to something, she refuses to lose.

But, this isn’t a challenge. This is just Paige being Paige. It’s not a challenge until someone says—

“I’ll bet you twenty bucks you get a belly piercing,” Paige jokes. And dread curls in Azzi’s abdomen. Because there it is.

Scary needles and crushing anxiety aside—suddenly, Azzi needs that twenty dollars. And she will absolutely not be losing it.

————————————

Azzi is in her room, trying and failing for the third time this week to pack for college, when her mother appears in the doorway. “Hey, Az.”

“Yeah?” Azzi asks without looking up.

“Can you come help me unload the groceries? I can’t carry them all by myself.”

“Uh,” Azzi glances at her suitcase—which needs to have her whole life packed away inside it within the week—and decides it can wait, “yeah, sure.”

She doesn’t notice the twinkle in Katie’s eye as she gets up and heads out into the hallway. As she walks down it, she registers the muttered sounds of her family and realizes she hasn’t heard the dogs in a few moments. Turning back to her mom, she says, “Where are the dogs?”

“Oh, we put ‘em in our room,” Katie says, taking Azzi by the shoulders and ushering her down the hallway.

Azzi furrows her brow. “Why?”

Katie pushes her out into the living room and the first thing she notices is her brothers and dad all gathered there, watching her with—excitement? Anticipation? And she’s about to ask why when Katie takes her by the shoulders once again and turns her so she’s facing the front door, and there’s Paige, knelt down, focused on untying her shoes.

Azzi doesn’t move, because is this real? This has gotta be an stress-induced hallucination, right?

But, no. It’s real. She knows because Paige, her perfect, oblivious girlfriend, hasn’t noticed her yet, and is chattering away like she always does: “So then I was like, yo, it’s not my fault you didn’t buy an extra seat, so like, why would I give you mine? And usually I would’ve given it up but I told her, I was like, I gotta see my girl, I can’t get off this plane. Because that’s serious to me, you know? And I…”

Paige’s rambling trails off only when she finishes taking off her shoes and finally glances up, to find Azzi standing a little awestruck a couple feet away.

“Oh,” she says, smiling almost sheepishly at her as she straightens up, “hey.”

For some reason, that’s what snaps Azzi out of her Paige-induced trance and she sort of forgets about the rest of her family watching them as she crosses the few steps it takes to launch herself into Paige’s arms, nearly sobbing with relief of a weight she didn’t know was there being lifted off her shoulders as she’s wrapped up in an all-too-familiar embrace.

“You’re here,” Azzi breathes, almost unable to believe it. “Why’re you here?”

Paige squeezes her tight, leans down to bury her face in the crook between her shoulder and neck. “Couldn’t wait any longer,” is all she says, and Azzi hasn’t ever agreed with anything more.

————————————

It’s not until later—after a celebratory lunch and family board games and then a celebratory dinner and family movie night, completed with ice cream sundaes—that they get a moment alone.

As soon as they’re stepping into Azzi’s bedroom, Paige is on her in a second, holding her tight by the waist and inhaling deeply into her hair. It’s almost instinctual the way Azzi reciprocates, her body moving on its own accord to wrap her arms around Paige’s broad shoulders and hold her close. It’s not for a few more moments that Paige says something. “Missed you so much, Az.”

“I know,” Azzi nods, pulling away just enough to get a good look at her girlfriend’s face, and though they’ve spent half the day together she still marvels at the fact that she’s looking at her without the barrier of a shitty internet connection, hearing her without the interruption of cackling speakers. “‘M happy you’re here, baby.”

“Me too,” Paige replies, leaning forward so their noses are touching. “We should never do that again, yeah?”

“What? Spend the summer apart?”

“Uh-huh,” Paige replies, her eyes drifting shut as her lips brush up against Azzi’s. “Hated every second of it.”

“Me too,” Azzi breathes, closing her eyes as well at the feeling of Paige’s breath up against her lips, her hands running slowly up and down her back before moving to her stomach, pushing against her. Azzi gasps as her back hits the bedroom door, eyes opening to study her girlfriend’s face, to find her staring back. Her pale cheeks are already a little flushed, and Azzi must be wearing a similar expression because Paige chuckles softly before leaning down and finally pressing their lips together in a soft, tender kiss. Chaste enough but nothing like the few pecks they shared today—this is intimate and weighted and altogether not meant for her family to see.

“Azzi,” Paige mumbles needily against her lips and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly she’s getting wet, just from a closed-mouth kiss and roaming hands on her stomach and an utterance of her name.

But she can’t really bring herself to be embarrassed. Because this is Paige. And it’s been so much longer than either of them can bear.

“Az,” Paige repeats, pressing soft kisses against the corner of her mouth now, “I…can we?” she pulls back and Azzi’s legs nearly give out at the hot, desperate look in Paige’s eyes. “Need you,” she insists.

Azzi glances over her shoulder, at the closed door and the hallway she knows is beyond, her family separated only by square meters and walls. It’s not an ideal situation.

But neither is holding off for another day. Even another hour might destroy her, if the damp spot growing on her panties has anything to say about it.

So, Azzi nods, untangling her arms from around Paige’s neck in order to reach back and lock the door. She can’t help but smile at the excitement in Paige’s eyes when she turns back to her, and at the same time she gives her a look that’s all warning. “We gotta be quiet, though.”

“Got it,” Paige nods, already walking them backwards toward the bed.

“And no strap,” Azzi continues, then squeals as quietly as possible when Paige pushes her down onto the bed.

Paige is back on her as soon as she’s lying down, kneeling on the bed to hover over her, and the pout on her face contrasts almost comically with the heat in her eyes. “But I brought it for us.”

Azzi isn’t all that surprised—of course Paige would bring their neglected dildo to her surprise visit at Azzi’s parent’s house. But Paige becomes sort of feral when that thing comes on and Azzi is no better, often unable to hold in the noises that rip their way out her throat while Paige pounds her.

As Azzi scoots back until her head hits the pillows, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck so she follows, she knows tonight isn’t the night for rough and filthy. The longing in her belly is heated, sure, the arousal leaking from her downright sinful—but there’s something almost innocent in the way she needs Paige tonight. She needs her as if she’s a piece of her that’s been missing too long, and it’s only natural to come back together like this.

“Paige,” she whispers, pulling her down, “please, just—don’t need any of that. Just need you, right now.”

Something softens almost immediately in Paige’s expression at that, the arousal clouding her gaze clearing just a bit and making way for pure, unadulterated love.

“Aight, baby,” Paige mutters, kissing Azzi again, and this time Azzi opens up for her, salivating when Paige’s tongue meets hers, pushing past to enter her mouth and lick around inside like she’s looking for something. Azzi’s legs go instinctively around Paige’s waist, hands tightening around her neck, anything to bring them as close as possible.

Paige pulls back when Azzi’s breath gets shaky, string of saliva connecting their lips until Paige licks it away. “I gotchu,” she reassures, one hand finding its way from where it’s bracing her on the bed to stroke down her cheek, to her collarbone. “Just relax, baby.”

“‘S been a long time,” Azzi replies, figuring that’s the reason for the lump of anxiety in her throat, the way she’s grasping at Paige as if she’ll disappear. And, sure, it’s only been three months—what’s three months, when plenty couples go years without seeing each other?—but for Paige and Azzi, it felt like an eternity. And Azzi realizes it’s a little overwhelming coming back to something so familiar all at once.

“I know,” Paige says, leaning down to trail her lips delicately against her jawline. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi replies, a little breathily now that Paige is moving to that sweet spot on her neck. And when she gets there, she sucks, not quite hard enough to leave a bruise but hard enough for her to feel it. “Paige,” she murmurs, her own hands going to the hem of her sweater, “Wanna—take this off.”

“Okay,” Paige replies, helping Azzi sit up just enough to pull the piece of clothing off and toss it somewhere across the room. It’s dimly lit, only the moonlight and the lamp on Azzi’s bedside table to illuminate the room, but it’s plenty enough for Paige to take in Azzi’s bare torso, eyes flickering from her collarbones to her chest to her face, then back to her chest again where her gaze lingers—Azzi reminds herself to make fun of her for that later—and then, finally, Azzi watches her girlfriend’s gaze travel down the bare expanse of her stomach, to her navel, where her eyes widen and her jaw drops just slightly when she sees the new piercing sitting there.

“You…” Paige mumbles, never ripping her eyes from the piercing, and Azzi giggles. “You actually got it.”

“Had to,” Azzi says, pleased with the reaction. “You owe me twenty, by the way.”

Paige looks up at her then, and her free hand travels down Azzi’s stomach to cautiously touch the stud. “Did it hurt?”

Azzi nods. “Yeah. But it was worth it.”

Paige nods along with her. “Definitely worth it.”

Her lips reattach to her neck, but they don’t linger there, moving quickly down to the dip between her collarbones, her fingers still delicately playing with her piercing. “Got it a couple days after our FaceTime. You remember?”

Paige nips at her collarbone. “Yeah. Thought there was no way in hell you’d get it.”

“‘S why I did,” Azzi replies, tone going a little unsteady again as Paige’s lips travel lower, reminding her of the pulsing that’s beginning to ache between her legs. “Knew you’d like it.”

“I was right, though,” Paige replies, a little muffled as she kisses the pillowy flesh of Azzi��s chest, “it is hot.”

“Tha-anks,” Azzi moans out, clutching Paige’s hair as she finally attaches to a nipple. Her head falls back, relishing in the way Paige flicks her tongue, feeling so much better than Azzi’s own fingers ever could. She’s resorted many times to playing with herself while thinking of Paige, but it’s never the same. And maybe the knowledge of how good Paige is had begun slipping away from her, but it comes back now with sharp clarity as Paige suckles and then smooths down with the flat of her tongue.

Paige moves over to Azzi’s other breast, making sure to litter a few marks across her chest on the way, and she busies herself with removing Paige’s ponytail, fingers fumbling a few times around the hair tie before she gets it off. Paige chuckles against her when her hair falls loose around her shoulders, and Azzi smiles, too, watching through hooded eyes as Paige lifts her head to place a chaste kiss on her lips. “Can we take these off?” she asks, tugging at the waistband of Azzi’s sleep shorts.

Azzi nods, lifting her hips while Paige pulls them down, leaving her underwear on. It’s not exactly a cute pair—she didn’t prepare for sex when she woke up completely Paige-less this morning—but she can’t bring herself to be self-conscious about it.

“Mm,” Paige hums, dragging her lips down Azzi’s chest, to her navel, where the tip of her tongue pokes out, licking around her piercing. Turns out she likes it even more than Azzi thought she would. Azzi watches, lazily, while Paige presses open-mouthed kisses against her. She wants to urge her on but at the same time knows she needs to be patient, needs to let Paige take her time with her.

“Fuck,” Paige mumbles against her skin, then licks down to the hem of her underwear, kissing along it to nip at her hipbone. “Missed this so fucking much.”

“Baby,” Azzi breathes, watching Paige open her legs enough to settle between them, breathing hot and purposeful over Azzi’s clothed core.

“I know,” Paige mumbles, eyes locked on the wet patch on Azzi’s panties. She takes her bottom lip between her teeth as she brings a thumb to rub gently over Azzi’s clit, and it makes her hips push up for more. “I’ma eat you now, okay?” Paige says, looking up at her.

Azzi nods. “Please, P.”

Paige licks her lips, then presses them to the plush skin of her inner thigh, making quick work of pulling the panties off. As soon as she does, she spreads her open even wider, eyes hooded and mouth slightly open when she takes two fingers and spreads her folds. “Look at that,” she breathes, licking her thumb before using it to rub her clit in little circles. “She’s cryin’ for me, huh?”

“Fuck,” Azzi moans breathily when Paige nuzzles her nose up into her. Paige uses her free hand to press down on her abdomen, partly to keep her still and partly to make it feel better, and she tries to stay steady, resisting the urge to arch her hips up.

“Hold my hair, mama,” Paige says, and with shaking hands Azzi does, gathering her long hair away from her face. Glancing up at her, Paige licks a long stripe up her cunt as a reward. Azzi gasps desperately, gripping her hair a little more tightly and pulling her closer, urging her to do that thing she loves. And Paige gets it, smirking against her pussy before dipping her tongue into her hole, effectively drinking her up while her nose bumps against her clit. Head lulling back against the sheets, Azzi throws an arm over her face in a feeble attempt to keep quiet.

“Tastes so good,” Paige moans into her, mouth wide open as she sucks her folds into her mouth. “Missed this shit so bad, mama.”

“Mm-hmm,” Azzi whines, unable to respond or even really register the words with the way Paige is making such a mess of her, spit mixing with Azzi’s own juices, leaking down onto the bed.

Paige licks into her entrance again, the warm muscle exploring that spongy spot inside her and then going up to her clit and sucking it harshly into her mouth. Azzi bites down on her hand—otherwise, she’d sob.

When Paige looks up and catches her struggle, she smirks and wraps her arms around Azzi’s thighs, situating them over her shoulders and pressing a few tender kisses to Azzi’s clit. “So pretty, baby,” she mutters, and Azzi shivers when her hot breath hits her cunt. “Wanna do this forever.” She works her jaw, and Azzi barely has time to register what she’s doing before Paige spits on her, using her hand to rub it in, and then going in and licking it back up.

“P—“ Azzi chokes, scratching her nails roughly through Paige’s hair, holding her head close enough that she doesn’t move when her hips cant up. That warmth in her belly becomes tense, a familiar knot forming there, and her legs begin to shake.

“Close?” Paige asks, knowing all her tells.

Azzi nods urgently, pulling Paige’s head back down, gasping as she presses the flat of her tongue against her clit before flicking it at an impossible speed, her hips grinding up as she rides Paige’s face, head turning to the side to bury into her pillow.

“God, Paige—gonna come,” she says urgently, the feeling of Paige nodding against her only hurdling her closer, “fuck, love you so much. Love you so fucking much, gonna make me come, fu-uckkk!”

She thrashes, legs shaking impossibly hard as Paige licks her through it, her hand rubbing furiously at Azzi’s poor clit while she slurps up the arousal gushing from her, and she doesn’t stop until Azzi’s heels are kicking against her back, palm of her hand pushing at her forehead.

Even then, Paige gives her a last kiss on her clit before surging up to meet her lips, the kiss they share far too tender for what just happened.

“Missed that,” Paige whispers, smiling down at her when they separate.

“Fuck,” Azzi sighs, looking up at her girlfriend almost in disbelief. “Me, too.”

She combs her fingers gently through Paige’s hair, getting the knots, and Paige’s eyes flutter shut. Slowly, she lets her hands wander, down her shoulders, her chest, to her stomach. “Baby,” she whispers, watching Paige open her eyes slowly, “need to see you.”

Paige hesitates and for a moment Azzi thinks she might be too tired, but the next second she’s reaching behind her and pulling her t-shirt off. Azzi’s hands immediately go to those toned abs she loves so much, then up to Paige’s sports bra. “This, too.”

Obediently, Paige pulls the tight material over her head, tossing it along with the rest of their clothes. Azzi doesn’t take her time—can’t bring herself to, not now—bringing her hands up to Paige’s tits and squeezing them. Paige inches up, encouraging her, and Azzi lifts her mouth to one of her hands, separating her fingers to expose a nipple and taking it between her lips. Paige is quick to react, bracing herself on Azzi’s shoulders while she grinds down onto one of her thighs, and Azzi can feel the wetness through her sweats.

While her tongue works over the pert nipple, she lets her other hand wander back down Paige’s stomach, under her sweatpants, and when Paige grinds down encouragingly, she dips her fingers into her boxers. Using her pointer and ring fingers, she spreads her folds, then drags her middle finger up her sopping slit, groaning into her breast at the sheer amount of wetness she feels there.

“Az,” Paige breathes, bearing down on Azzi’s hand, but the angle is all wrong and she pulls of her tit with a pop.

Urging Paige off her lap, Azzi flips them over, knowing Paige would resist if she wanted to. But Paige is needy, hair a mess and lips swollen, chin still a little wet with Azzi’s arousal, baby blue’s wide as she stares reverently at her. “Lay back, baby,” she mutters, making quick work of the rest of Paige’s clothes once the girl obeys.

As soon as she’s naked, Azzi crawls over her, dipping her hand back between her legs, warm heat pooling at her fingers. “So wet, P. I make you like this?”

“Fuck, yes,” Paige replies, and it’s her turn to wrap her arms around Azzi’s shoulders, nails scratching a little when Azzi dips a finger into her hole.

“You want it?” Azzi asks, teasing, rubbing her thumb over Paige’s clit before going back down to her entrance.

“Need it,” Paige insists.

“Gonna be good for me?” Azzi murmurs, leaning down so she’s right by her ear, making Paige shiver. “Gonna be quiet, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Paige says, the submissive tone in her voice rare and so fucking sexy, “promise, baby.”

“Mm,” Azzi hums, relishing in the little noise Paige makes as she slides a finger inside her. Paige arches forward, burying her head in Azzi’s neck, and Azzi presses comforting kisses to her shoulder, shushing her gently. She pumps in and out a few times, getting her ready, before sliding another one in, and she loves the way Paige curls even further into her—not an inch of space between them. She wishes they could stay like this forever.

Starting out slow, Azzi goes in an out, spreading her fingers against the impossible tightness surrounding her fingers. She glances down between their bodies, but it’s hard to see—still, she can just make out Paige’s cunt sucking her fingers in eagerly, and she moans maybe a little too loud.

“Oh, oh,” Paige whines into her neck, clinging onto her as Azzi picks up speed, “don’t stop, so good.”

Azzi bites her lip, concentrating, and on her next thrust she hooks her fingers upward on the way out, letting them drag against that spongy spot deep inside, and Paige sobs, nodding feverishly.

Azzi pulls away, forcing Paige’s head out of her neck so they can look at each other. She uses her free hand to brush a damp strand of hair from Paige’s face. “Right there?”

“Yeah,” Paige breathes, obviously doing her best to be quiet, and Azzi thinks they’ll need to empty out the house tomorrow so they can do this again without so many restraints.

Azzi repeats the motion once, twice, and Paige’s eyes roll to the back of her head. Her thighs clench around Azzi’s hand, abs tightening—she’s getting close.

Nuzzling their noses together, Azzi brings her thumb to Paige’s clit and starts rubbing hard.

Paige cries out weakly. Azzi presses their lips together, regretfully swallowing every noise Paige makes, arm growing tired as she works her over, thrusting fast and hard now. Paige is writhing, hands keeping Azzi close as if she’s going to up and leave.

“Not going anywhere,” Azzi murmurs against her lips. “You okay?”

Paige moans. “Getting close—just…stay right here.”

“Okay, baby,” Azzi whispers. “Just relax, I got you. You’re okay.”

It works, Paige softening around the edges, jaw unclenching and legs falling open, eyes hooded and searching as they look into Azzi’s. Azzi nods at her, kissing her lips and then the tip of her nose, not once slowing the pace of her fingers. “Doing good, baby. Gonna come?”

“Yeah,” Paige breathes, nodding fervently. “So close.”

Azzi punctuates it with a particularly hard thrust, loving the way Paige whines for her. “Missed making you come,” Azzi groans, forehead dropping onto Paige’s. “Missed fucking you.”

Paige swallows thickly, supposedly swallowing down a particularly loud sound, and Azzi rubs at her clit to the point of abuse. Paige opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something but then her jaw goes slack and her eyebrows furrow and she’s coming, hard, choking on a moan, bottom lip trembling like she might cry.

Enthralled, Azzi watches, trying to commit everything to memory—the way Paige’s tits arch up, the way she throws her head back, the way she bites her swollen lips, the way tears form at the corners of her eyes but don’t fall. Azzi hadn’t realized quite how much she missed this until just now.

As Paige comes down, pushing Azzi’s wrist so she’ll pull out, Azzi settles herself gently on top of her, pressing kisses to her face and neck. Paige’s arms soothe down her back then back up, chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

“Good?” Azzi asks, giggling tiredly when Paige stares at her as if she hung the stars in the sky.

“Perfect,” Paige corrects, watching as Azzi lazily licks at her fingers, cleaning them off. “We can never be apart again, okay?”

“I can’t promise that.”

“I’ma—like, sneak you into my suitcase if I ever have to leave,” Paige insists, pulling Azzi down so she’s lying fully on top of her. “Gonna fuck you every day, I’on care.”

Azzi laughs, resting her cheek on Paige’s chest. “You’re an idiot.”

“Be quiet,” Paige says, pushing half-heartedly at her shoulder.

“Shit,” she says after a moment.

Azzi lifts her head to look quizzically at her. “What?”

“I really love your belly piercing.”

#pazzi #azzi fudd #pazzi fics #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #wcbb #wbb #pazzi smut #paige bueckers smut #azzi fudd smut #wlw smut #lilah’s works

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cumironi · 2 months ago

Text

SCREAM FOR AMNESIA !’ g. suguru

three minus one... it’s only you and geto for a few days. gojo is nowhere near, away for mission. and you still have the audacity to miss your other boyfriend, gojo? don’t worry, geto here to remind you.

warning. established relationship! geto, exhibitionism, very very suggestive.

it was one of those days where it was just you and one of your boyfriends, whenever the other had to go on a mission, leaving you and the remaining one alone for a few days. sometimes, you relished these moments more than you’d admit, even though you still missed your other boyfriend.

today was one of those days. the bathroom was quiet except for the faint sound of water shifting as you sat across from geto in the large bathtub. the water, tinted purple from your bath bomb, smelled of vanilla and blueberries, swirling lazily around you both. it barely reached your lower chest, just enough to warm you, but not enough to drown out the cool breeze drifting in from the cracked window.

your legs were wrapped around geto’s waist, pulling him close while one arm rested comfortably on his broad shoulder. in your other hand, you held a glass of wine, the deep red liquid reflecting the dim light of the room. the only sources of light came from the scattered candles placed around the edges of the tub and the soft glow of moonlight seeping through the large window.

geto sat there, his expression relaxed, but his sharp, handsome features were illuminated by the candlelight. his purple eyes glistened as he looked back at you, a small smirk playing at his lips, aware of the intimate atmosphere but letting you enjoy it in your own time.

the atmosphere in the bathroom is nothing short of serene, intimate. geto leans back, one arm resting lazily on the edge of the tub while the other holds onto you, fingers tracing lazy circles on your back. the soft flicker of the candles dances on his skin, casting shadows across his sharp jawline and the gentle curve of his lips.

he smirks at the sight of you-wine glass in hand, eyes slightly hazy from the warmth of the water and the effect of your drink. “enjoying yourself?” his voice is low, teasing, but there's a warmth behind his words, a softness that he reserves only for moments like this.

you tilt your head as you take a slow sip of your wine, savoring the sweetness on your tongue before answering. “mm-hmm,” you hum in contentment. “though, i still miss satoru.” your words are half-hearted, playful, because in reality, you’re more than enjoying this rare alone time with geto.

his smirk deepens, seemingly amused by your admission. “of course you do,” he responds, the light in his eyes softening as he holds you closer, one of his hands now tracing the contour of your spine. “you’re always missing him when he’s not here.”

his fingers continue their path, moving up to lightly brush against the hair at the base of your neck. the slight touch sends a small shiver down your spine, making you lean in further towards him. he notices the subtle reaction, his gaze flitting down to your wine-stained lips before returning to meet your eyes.

you chuckle softly, the sound light and airy in the intimate space. with a playful grin, you hand him the glass of wine from your hand, tilting your head slightly as you tease, “i’d miss you too if it were just me and satoru, y’know.”

a soft laugh rumbles in geto's chest, the sound deep and rich, as he takes the glass from you. “is that so?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. “colour me surprised.”

he takes a sip from the glass, his eyes never leaving yours. “considering we’re both just so boring without satoru here,” he states with a facetious tone. “you’d get real sick of me, huh?”

you roll your eyes at his playful mockery, a smile tugging at your lips as your fingers trace light patterns across his bare chest. “stop being so dramatic,” you say, your tone teasing yet affectionate. “’m not bored. i just miss satoru.”

geto hums in amusement, clearly enjoying your response as he leans back slightly, his expression still smug. you lean down, pressing a quick kiss on his wet chest, your lips brushing the warmth of his skin before meeting his gaze again. “and for the record,” you continue, your voice softening as your fingers move up to rest on his shoulder, “i never get sick of you.”

his smirk falters just a little, replaced by something warmer, something more genuine. “in fact,” you add, leaning in a bit closer, “i kind of love having you to myself for a few days.”

geto’s expression relaxes further, his usual smirk softening into a softer smile, one that only you get to see. his hand, still splayed across the small of your back, moves to grip you tighter, pulling you closer so that your legs are now fully wrapped around his waist, your body pressed against his.

he sets the wine glass back down, not wanting to risk spilling it and ruining the atmosphere. instead, his free hand cups your cheek, his thumb tracing the shape of your lips. “yeah? ‘cause you sure didn’t seem to think that this morning in bed.”

you squint your eyes at him, feigning offense as you tilt your head slightly. “oh? and what exactly do you mean by that?” you ask, your tone playful but your expression mockingly stern, as if daring him to elaborate.

geto raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your reaction, his thumb still tracing the curve of your lips. “you know exactly what i mean,” he teases, his voice low and teasing as his hand tightens around your waist, keeping you pressed firmly against him.

you roll your eyes, huffing dramatically. “for your information,” you say, leaning in closer until your noses are nearly touching, “i called satoru the moment i woke up because i missed him, not because i was bored of you.”

his soft smile widens just a little, his thumb now gently brushing your lower lip. “mm, is that right?” he asks, clearly amused by your mock offense.

“yes,” you insist, still playing up your offense, though the smile tugging at your lips gives you away. “don’t get too cocky, mister. i miss him, but i still love this—” you gesture to the two of you, your bodies entangled in the bath, “—just as much.”

geto chuckles lightly, the sound a gentle hum against your skin as he leans in closer. “ah, i see,” he responds, his voice still low, the smirk on his face showing clearly that he’s enjoying this little game of yours. “my apologies then, for thinking you preferred his company over mine.”

his hands continue their path, his fingers moving down from your cheek to trace the shape of your collarbone, then back up again to play idly with the end of your hair. “considering you were all over him this morning, i assumed i was just your second choice.”

you gasp dramatically, your eyes widening in playful disbelief before you lightly smack his shoulder. “that is absolute blasphemy you’re speaking right there!” you exclaim, feigning shock as you narrow your eyes at him. “how dare you even assumed such a thing!”

geto laughs, his smirk growing wider as your hand taps against his shoulder. “it’s not an assumption,” he retorts, his tone just as playful as yours, “it’s the truth. you practically pounced on him the moment you woke up.”

his fingers continue to trace your skin, the pads of his fingertips following the curves of your body, almost teasingly. “i was sitting right next to you, but you went straight for him.”

you roll your eyes, a playful pout forming on your lips as you defend yourself. “oh, come on,” you say, your voice laced with mock offense, “satoru’s leaving for a few days for a mission. i just wanted to be with him before he goes. can you really blame me for that?”

geto’s smirk remains as his fingers continue their slow, teasing path across your skin, clearly enjoying your attempt to explain. “is that so?” he muses, his eyes narrowing slightly in amusement.

“yes,” you insist, crossing your arms over your chest, your pout deepening as you try to keep up the pretense of being offended. “cut me some slack, okay? i wasn’t ignoring you.” you give him a playful glare, though it’s obvious you’re not really upset.

geto chuckles again, obviously not taking your pouting seriously— which only irritates you, though you keep the act going. “oh, believe me,” he begins, amusement laced in his voice, “i have absolutely no problem with you jumping on satoru’s lap in the morning, but don’t give me the impression that you’d rather have him than me.”

he leans in closer, his smirk widening as he presses a light kiss to the underside of your jaw. “after all, we’re both your boyfriends, are we not?”

you hum thoughtfully, a soft smile breaking through your faux irritation as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him a bit closer. “of course, both of you are my boyfriends,” you reply, your tone light and affectionate.

“that’s what i thought,” he responds, his voice now taking on a faux cocky tone. “so next time, try not to ditch me for the first few hours of the morning, yeah?” his arms wrap firmly around your middle, his fingers splayed over your back as he pulls you closer, his touch possessive. “i’d like some attention too, y’know.”

you groan dramatically, throwing your body backward, knowing full well that geto would catch you before you could fall into the water. as expected, his arms tighten around you, pulling you back up against him effortlessly.

“babyyyyy,” you whine, a playful smile breaking through as you look up at him. “i’m not ditching you! i just wanted to give gojo a proper goodbye before he leaves for a few days.” you mock a serious tone, trying to convince him of your innocence in the matter.

geto scoffs, his smirk growing wider as he looks down at you. “oh, please,” he responds, the playful sarcasm evident in his voice. “a ‘proper goodbye’? don’t try to sugarcoat it. you two were making out like teenagers in the kitchen while i was trying to make breakfast.”

you giggle, cupping his cheeks in your hands as you lean closer, your playful expression softening. “okay, maybe i got a little carried away,” you admit, your voice teasing as you look into his eyes. “but can you blame me? satoru has a way of making me feel all… flustered.”

geto rolls his eyes, but the smile stays on his lips. “oh, i’m well aware,” he responds, his tone both dry and fond. “how many times have i already seen you in satoru’s lap, hm?” he smirks, his fingers now tracing the outline of your hips. “you’re practically his personal doll sometimes.”

you chuckle lowly, leaning in closer until your lips brush against his, your breath mingling with his as you tease, “well, i’m your personal doll too, you know.”

geto’s eyes narrow playfully, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “oh really? you’re just going to throw that out there, huh? i guess i’ll have to remind you who gets to dress you up.”

“is that a challenge?” you reply, your tone playful as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, the mischief evident in your eyes. “because i think i can out-dress you any day.”

his fingers continue to trace the curves of your hips, his touch both possessive and gentle. “careful now,” he warns, a teasing glint in his purple eyes. “you might just find yourself in an outfit that’s too revealing for your own good.”

you laugh, leaning in again, your lips hovering just above his. “i trust you to make it look good,” you say, your voice low and inviting. “just like i trust you to always catch me when i fall.” geto’s expression softens, and he leans in to close the gap between you, pressing a warm kiss against your lips. “always,” he murmurs against your mouth, sealing his promise with another lingering kiss.

geto's arms tighten around you, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, silently asking for entry.

you oblige, opening your mouth slightly as you let him in, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he’s desperate for more contact with you. the kiss is needy and possessive, a stark contrast to the playful banter of just a moment ago. but this is how geto does it sometimes. soft and teasing, but always fiercely possessive. never letting you forget that you’re his.

as his tongue explores your mouth, geto’s hands move down, his fingers tracing the curve of your back until they reach the edge of your ass. he grabs a handful, his grip firm yet gentle at the same time as he pulls you closer, a low rumble in his chest as he breaks the kiss for a moment.

“always mine, doll,” he mutters against your lips, his voice thick with a possessiveness that makes your spine tingle. “never forget it.”

you whisper “never” breathlessly, the intensity of his words sending a thrill through you. unable to resist, you duck your head to his neck, planting soft kisses along his skin, savoring the warmth and scent of him.

geto’s breath hitches slightly as you plant kisses along his neck, his eyes closing momentarily as he tilts his head back to give you access. one of his hands moves up your spine, his fingers gently playing with the back of your hair, his touch both firm and comforting. “mmm,” he hums, the sound a low, almost primal rumble in his chest. “look at you, already getting distracted.” he teases, though the amused tone in his voice betrayed his earlier possessiveness.

he shifts you on his lap, rearranging you so that you’re now straddling him, your bodies pressing even closer together. his hands move down to your hips, his grip firm as he holds you in place, his eyes roaming over your face, taking in every detail. “you’re so easy to distract,” he says, his voice a soft murmur. “just a few kisses and you’re melting against me.”

with your bodies now pressed even closer, you can feel how he’s already getting hard beneath you. his eyes are locked on your face, his expression both amused and hungry as he drinks in the sight of you.

you playfully roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you lean in closer, your lips a mere inch from his. “hmmm, and i wonder whose fault that is,” you tease, your voice dripping with mock innocence.

his hands, still firm on your hips, begin to move, slowly running up and down your thighs, his touch both possessive and comforting. you lean once again, chasing his lips, your warm breath kissing his lips first before yours get a chance to. your hands move from his broad shoulders to his muscled arms— feeling all the knots of muscles and tension on his bicep before you scope water with your hands and let it fall to his skin.

a soft sigh escapes geto’s lips as the water cascades down his skin, his eyes closing momentarily at the sensation. his hands continue their caress of your thighs, his touch becoming more possessive as he pulls you even closer so that you’re practically grinding against him.

he leans in, his lips connecting with yours in a slow kiss that quickly turns more needy as his tongue brushes against your lower lip, seeking entry. as his tongue enters your mouth, he gives your hips another firm squeeze.

you tear a breathe moan caused by his tongue and the way his hands blend with your skin, all warm and gentle and possessive. he breaks the kiss a moment later, his lips moving to your neck as he starts to press kisses along your skin, his teeth occasionally nipping at the sensitive flesh as if he can’t get enough of you.

“you’re so perfect,” he mutters against your skin as he kisses and nips and suckles at your neck. “always so sweet and responsive for me… why do you think i’m unable to resist you?”

his lips move down to your collarbone, his tongue tracing a path across your skin as his hands wander further up your thighs. “even when you pout and play cute,” he continues, his voice low and gruff, “you’re still the most delicious thing i’ve ever had.”

he bites at a sensitive spot on your collarbone, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that makes you shiver. “always so eager to follow my every command, too.” he murmurs, giving your thigh a possessive squeeze.

your body trembles under his touch, your back arching slightly as he lavishes attention on your neck and collarbone. you gasp softly when he nips at your skin, your fingers digging into his shoulders as pleasure courses through you.

“suguru... baby,” you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. your own hands roam over his chest and abs, tracing the defined lines of muscle beneath his skin. you press yourself harder against him, craving more contact, more friction.

“i... i don’t know what you mean,” you lie, trying to sound innocent despite the wanton need in your tone. “i’m just responding to your affectionate nature.” you capture his lips in another heated kiss, your tongues dancing together as you pour all your desire into the embrace.

geto groans into the kiss, his grip on your hips tightening as he feels your body press against his. his tongue delves deeper into your mouth, claiming you as his own as he devours your taste.

when you break the kiss, he looks at you with lust-filled eyes, his pupils dilated. “don’t try to deny it,” he says, his voice rough with desire. “your body tells me everything i need to know.”

he captures your lips again, this time biting gently at the bottom one before trailing open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. “i love how responsive you are to me,” he murmurs against your skin. “how easily you surrender to my touch.” one hand slides up your side, fingertips grazing the underside of your breast as he teases the swell of your curves. “and i especially adore these perfect tits of yours,”

your body writhes against his, your skin flushing under his intense gaze. you gasp softly when he teases your breast, your nipple hardening instantly at the contact.

“such a tease,” you whimper, your voice barely audible. you reach up to cradle his face in your hand, pulling his lips back to yours for another passionate kiss. your free hand trails down his chest, over his washboard, abs, and lower still until it’s resting on his already hardened cock under the water.

geto lets out a low groan as your hand wraps around his hard length, his hips bucking slightly into your touch. he deepens the kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth as he grinds himself against your palm.

“fuck, baby...” he growls, breaking the kiss to nip at your lower lip. “keep touching me like that and i won’t be able to hold back much longer.” his own hands roam your body, groping and kneading at your breasts as he rolls your nipples between his fingers. he tugs at them gently, sending sparks of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

“’m going to fuck you, making it as a payback of the time you spend with satoru this morning,” he promises, his voice a dark rumble, accessories with his smirk. “right here in this bathtub until you’re screaming my name.”

a shudder runs through you at his words, your heart pounding in your chest. you grind yourself harder against his cock, your arousal clear in the wetness coating your inner thighs. “promise?” you ask, your voice breathy with anticipation. you reach up to stroke his cheek, looking deeply into his eyes. “because i want you inside me so badly...”

geto's eyes darken with lust at your confession, his grip on your hips tightening almost painfully. “oh, believe me, sweetheart,” he rasps, his voice thick with desire. “i intend to keep every single promise i make to you.”

with that, he lifts you effortlessly off his lap, turning you around to face away from him. he positions you so that your knees rest on the edge of the tub, your ass high in the air and your back arched. “spread your legs for me,” he commands, his large hands sliding up your thighs to part them wide. “i want to see that pretty pussy of yours.”

once you comply, he steps closer, the head of his cock nudging against your slick entrance. “look back at me,” he orders, his hot breath fanning over your ear.

you obey without hesitation, tilting your head back to look at geto over your shoulder. his intense purple eyes burn into yours, filled with raw, unbridled lust. a shiver runs down your spine at the sight of his chiseled features, the muscles rippling beneath his skin as he looms behind you.

your breath hitches as you feel the tip of his throbbing cock pressing insistently against your soaked folds. you bite your lip, anticipating the moment he’ll finally sink into you, filling you completely. “suguruuu...” you manage to whimper, your voice trembling with need. “fuck me already..”

geto's expression is pure, unadulterated hunger as he stares at your exposed, glistening sex. he grips your hips firmly, his thumbs brushing over your clit in a teasing circle. “patience, baby girl,” he purrs, his voice low and seductive. “’m gonna savor every second of fucking you.” with that, he thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat in one smooth motion. a guttural groan rumbles in his chest as he stretches you around his impressive girth, his cock pulsing with each beat of his heart.

“fuck, you feel incredible, as always,” he gasps, his hips already starting to move as he sets a slow and gentle pace. “so wet and tight for me...”

a sharp cry escapes your lips as geto fills you to the brim, your walls clenching instinctively around his thick length. the sensation of being stretched and claimed by him is overwhelming, bordering on painful, but in the best possible way.

“just like that baby..” you moan, your head falling back as he begins to move within you. your nails dig into the edge of the tub as he sets a steady rhythm, each powerful thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

“sooo good,” you cry, your voice high and desperate. “your cock feels so good when you fuck me this gentle.” you glance back at him over your shoulder, your eyes glazed with lust.

geto's pace remains unhurried, savoring the feeling of your velvety walls gripping him like a vice. he leans over you, his chest pressed against your back as he continues to thrust in a sensual, rolling motion.

“yeah? you like it when i go nice and slow? you take my cock so well, baby,” he murmurs, his hot breath tickling your ear. “i could stay buried inside you forever.” as if to prove his point, he slows even further, grinding his hips against yours in a deliberate, torturous dance. the water around you churns with the force of his movements, creating a mesmerizing display of eroticism.

“tell me what you need,” he urges, his voice a husky whisper. “i’ll give it to you, sweetheart. just let me know how you want to come apart on my cock.”

your mind goes blank at his words, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. all you can focus on is the delicious friction of his cock stroking your inner walls, the way he fills you completely, leaving no space untouched.

“perfect baby, so fucking—ah, perfect,” you whimper, your voice cracking with desperation. “just like that.” your hips buck back against him, seeking more of that exquisite pressure. you can feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly with each passing second.

your breast is pressed against the cold glass of the big window, showing your breast to the world. for a beat, your eyes flickering to the street and city light down below, thinking people might see the whole fiasco.

geto follows your gaze, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he notices where you're looking. “mmm, maybe we should give them a show then," he suggests, his voice dripping with sinful intent. he slides one hand around your waist, his calloused fingers finding your sensitive clit and rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the swollen nub.

“let them watch as i make you fall apart on my cock. let them see just how badly you need me,” he punctuates his words with a particularly deep thrust, hitting that spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. his other hand reaches up to roughly palm your breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers.

“come on, baby. scream for me. let the whole damn world hear who owns this sweet little cunt.”

your eyes widen at his suggestion, a thrill of excitement mixed with embarrassment rushing through you. the idea of potentially being watched, of strangers seeing you in such an intimate, vulnerable state, sends a forbidden rush of heat straight to your core.

“fuckkkk..” you cry out, your voice echoing off the bathroom tiles, “oh god, yes! harder now, baby wanna cum!” your hips rock back to meet his increasingly rough thrusts, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin mingling with your moans and the splash of the water. Your breasts bounce freely with each impact, drawing attention to your peaked nipples.

“’m sooo close,” you pant, your walls fluttering wildly around his pistoning length. “don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

with a primal growl, geto slams into you with renewed vigor, his heavy balls smacking against your clit with every brutal thrust. the windows rattle from the force of his movements, and you can only imagine the lewd display you must be putting on for anyone unlucky enough to glance up at the right moment.

“that’s it, baby doll, scream for me, such a goodddd, perfect doll..” he snarls, his teeth bared in a feral grin. “i want the whole fucking neighborhood to know you’re mine.” his fingers dig into your hip hard enough to leave marks as he pounds into you mercilessly, chasing his own release. the coil of tension in your lower belly winds tighter and tighter, until suddenly you're careening over the edge.

your orgasm crashes through you like a tsunami, your vision whiting out as ecstasy overtakes every sense. as your climax hits, you throw your head back and wail, not caring anymore about who might overhear or witness your shameless abandon. your entire body convulses violently, your inner muscles clamping down on geto's cock like a vise.

“’m cumming, baby, i’m cumming,” you scream, your voice ragged and hoarse. the combination of the cool night air kissing your heated skin and the scorching heat of geto’s release flooding your spasming channel pushes you to new heights of bliss. you shudder and twitch uncontrollably as aftershocks ripple through you, milking geto for every last drop.

finally, utterly spent, you collapse forward onto the tub, your limbs boneless and useless.

geto groans deeply as your walls grip him like a silken fist, the rhythmic squeezing prolonging his own earth-shattering climax. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his grunts of pleasure against your sweat-slicked skin.

for several long moments, neither of you moves, simply basking in the afterglow of your shared passion. geto’s softening cock slips free of your abused hole, a trickle of his seed following in its wake. he gently turns you over in the now lukewarm water, cradling you against his broad chest.

“my baby is so beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing tender kisses along your jawline, “an’ i hope they got a good show downstairs.” he chuckles softly, the rumble vibrating through his chest and into your back.

you manage a small, breathless laugh at his remark, your body still thrumming with lingering pleasure as you lean into his embrace. your legs feel wobbly and weak, your skin still deliciously sensitive to his touch.

“you’re unbelievable,” you murmur, nuzzling your head against his chest. “always so… intense.”

he chuckles again, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles over your back. “can’t help it when i have such a perfect little doll like you,” he responds, his voice still carrying a hint of rough desire.

his other hand strokes your hair tenderly, his fingers running through the wet tresses as he continues to hold you against him. “are you alright, doll?” he asks, his voice still gruff but softer now that his lust has been sated.

he continues to press little kisses on your face in between words, his lips brushing against your forehead, your cheeks, and down to your jawline. “that was pretty noisy, even by my standards.”

you glare at him, your eyes narrowing as you playfully swat at his chest. “shut up,” you mutter, your voice filled with mock annoyance. his teasing smirk only grows wider, clearly amused by your reaction.

taking a deep breath, you lean back slightly, your body still pressed close to his but your expression shifting into something more relaxed. “i think i’m done with the bath,” you say, the warmth of the water is starting to feel a bit heavy now that the heat of the moment has passed.

geto chuckles, his hands sliding up from your hips to your waist as he helps you sit up. “yeah, i think we’ve soaked long enough,” he agrees, though he makes no immediate move to let you go, still enjoying the closeness. “but i’ve got to say, you do look good in this lighting.”

you roll your eyes at his comment, but the affection in his gaze makes your heart flutter as you feel his lingering kisses on your face once more. geto effortlessly lifts you in his arms, the warmth of his chest radiating against your skin as he steps out of the bathroom. you feel the cool air hit you, contrasting with the heat of the bath as he walks toward the bed. his hold is gentle, yet firm, a silent reassurance that he’s taking care of everything.

once by the bed, he carefully lowers you onto the soft sheets, his hands brushing over your skin as he makes sure you’re comfortable. “stay here,” he murmurs, planting a kiss on your forehead before he turns back to clean up the mess you two made in the bathroom.

you lie there, watching him move around the room, his movements graceful and deliberate as he tidies up. despite the intimacy of moments ago, there’s something calming in the way he silently takes care of things. he doesn’t rush, and you can feel the love in each quiet action.

when he finally returns, his eyes soften as he approaches the bed, leaning down to hover over you. “wait here baby,” he says, his voice low and affectionate, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

geto’s naked form disappears into the walk-in closet, leaving you wrapped in the warmth of the blankets. you hear the sound of drawers opening, and soon enough, he returns, now dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers. in his hand, he holds one of his oversized t-shirts and your underwear, one you often borrow, the soft fabric worn from use.

he sits down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. his eyes rake over your figure, still partially hidden under the covers, and a small, fond smile tugs at his lips. “sit up for me,” he instructs, his tone gentle but firm. “i want to dress you, doll.”

you snort softly, amused by his insistence, but you push yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed, the covers pooling around your waist. “you’re really serious about this, huh?” you tease, your voice light as you watch him hold the underwear, waiting for you to slip into it. “playing dress-up with me now?”

geto’s smile widens at your playful comment, his eyes glimmering with fond amusement. he steps closer to you, his body now mere inches from yours.

“i’m always serious when it comes to you,” he responds, his voice low and gruff, as he reaches out to help you step into your underwear. “and especially with making sure you’re comfortable, doll.” his hands ghost over your thighs as he guides the fabric up your legs, his touch both gentle and possessive. he smooths it against your skin once it’s in place, making sure it’s sitting just right.

he moves back slightly, his eyes locking on your face as he holds up the oversized t-shirt. the shirt is soft and well-worn, the fabric slightly faded from numerous washes. you've worn it several times before, and it's become your favorite thing to lounge around in.

“raise your arms for me,” he instructs, his voice still low and rough. “i want to put this on you.”

you comply without hesitation, lifting your arms with a soft, content smile playing on your lips. there’s something comforting about the way he cares for you, even in these small gestures.

he slips the shirt over your head, his fingers gently guiding your arms through the sleeves. once the fabric settles onto your frame, he takes a moment to admire you.

the oversized shirt swallows your form, the fabric just slightly too large for you, and it hits you a few inches above the knees. despite that, you look adorable and deliciously vulnerable in it. geto’s eyes roam over your body, a possessive gleam in them as he takes in the sight of you wearing his shirt, his favorite shirt.

he moves closer to you again, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. he pulls you close, your bodies now flush against each other. he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin as he speaks. “you look perfect,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “so small and deliciously vulnerable in my clothes.”

you roll your eyes, though a smirk tugs at your lips as you feel his breath against your neck. “you’ve spent too much time with satoru,” you tease, your voice soft but teasing. “you’re starting to sound like a pervert just like him.”

without waiting for a response, you grab his hand, pulling him gently as you lay back against the bed. the silent invitation is clear, and geto chuckles lowly, the sound vibrating against your skin before he pulls back to meet your gaze.

his eyes darken at the invitation, his lips curving into a sly, possessive smile. he kneels on the bed, crawling up to hover over you. the mattress dips beneath his weight as he closes the gap between you, his body now pressing against yours. “don’t lump me in with that idiot,” he mutters, his voice still low and rough. “i’m not perverted, doll. just observant, especially when it comes to you.”

you roll your eyes at his words, a playful smirk on your lips. “you definitely sound like satoru right now,” you say, teasing him as your hand comes up to gently flick his forehead. his brow furrows for a moment, more in mock offense than anything else, but you know he enjoys the playful banter.

“stop being horny,” you add with a soft chuckle, your voice laced with affection. “just lay beside me already.”

he lets out a low, amused huff as you flick his forehead, his eyes narrowing playfully as he glares down at you. “i told you i’m not like him,” he says, a hint of mock annoyance in his voice. “but i can’t deny i’m always horny for you.”

he gives a low chuckle at your final command, his weight shifting as he moves to the side, lying next to you on the bed. his body presses against yours, one strong arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer.

you just hum softly as an answer before you pull the blanket over both of you, cocooning yourselves in warmth as you shift onto your side. your cheek rests against his bare chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming you. your arm slides around his waist, pulling him closer as his own arm tightens protectively around you.

geto reaches over to the nightstand and flicks off the light, plunging the room into darkness. with only the faint moonlight filtering in from the window, the atmosphere becomes more intimate, peaceful. you can feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, the steady comfort of his presence soothing you as you nuzzle closer.

geto lets out a content sigh as you cling to him, your head resting on his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist. he pulls the blanket higher, making sure both of you are snugly enveloped in its soft warmth.

he runs his hand over your back, his touch both soothing and possessive as he caresses your skin. his other hand cups the back of your head, holding you against him as he tucks your head under his chin. “you’re so clingy after sex,” he murmurs, his voice still gruff but now tinged with amusement.

you raise your eyebrows, though you don’t lift your head from his chest. “oh, i could pull away now if you can’t stop complaining,” you say, your voice teasing but with a slight edge. your fingers absentmindedly trace circles on his waist as you speak, your tone light yet challenging.

geto chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. “don’t even think about it,” he mutters, pulling you tighter against him. his hand continues to run soothingly over your back, and the grip on your head remains firm but gentle. “you’re staying right here, right where i want you, where i can hold you.”

you smile against his skin, satisfied with his response as you settle further into him, feeling completely content in his embrace. “thought so,” you murmur. “smartass,” he mutters, his hand trailing upwards from your back to thread through your hair. he twirls a strand of your hair around his finger, his touch delicate and almost absentminded. “you know i’d never let you go even if you tried to pull away.”

you hum softly, the sound low and content as you close your eyes, feeling the weight of exhaustion slowly pulling you under. “lucky for you, i’m not going anywhere for the next eight to ten hours,” you mumble, your voice already growing faint with drowsiness. “because i’m about to be out like a light.”

geto lets out a low, rumbling chuckle, his fingers still playing with your hair as your heavy eyelids flutter shut. he can feel you growing sleepy against him, your body warm and soft and relaxed.

“good,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “you need to rest, doll. i wore you out tonight.”

you smile softly at his teasing, opening your eyes just enough to meet his gaze before leaning in to press a gentle kiss against his cheek. the warmth of the moment fills you with comfort as you nestle back down against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you further into relaxation.

“good night, baby,” you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur. “love you.” as you close your eyes once more, you feel his fingers continue to weave through your hair, his presence a calming weight beside you.

geto’s chest warms at your soft, sleepy words and affectionate gesture. he can’t help but feel a sense of contentment and protectiveness as he holds you close, his fingers gently caressing your hair.

“good night, doll,” he replies, his voice a deep, soothing rumble. “love you too.”

he watches over you as you slowly drift off to sleep, feeling his heartbeat syncing with your slow, even breaths. he continues to gently run his fingers through your hair, a small, satisfied smile on his lips.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #suguru smut #suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #satosugu fluff #satosugu x reader #satosugu smut

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ylangelegy · 1 month ago

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After MAMA awards I'M VERY PROUD OF MY BOYS and seeing Woozi crying, nooooo my mannnnn

So can I request Woozi or anyone after awards, all members celebrating with their partners hehe LOVE YOUUU!!!

PLEASE PLEASE 🛐🛐

🍑 i will really live the rest of my life repaying you.

you don't see seungcheol until the next day. such is the life of the general leader, it seems— the never-ending heralding, the non-stop worrying. he deals with his boys, first, then the fans, then the staff. but once that's all done, he's at your front door, collapsing into your arms before he's even past through the entryway. it doesn't matter how many awards its been. he is still overwhelmed by it every single time, and you are a soft place to land. he comes home to you and whispers the sweetest nothings in your hair. i'm so proud of them and they did so well and they're so happy. as he holds you tight— like you're the only thing keeping him upright— it's your turn to let him hear those words. i'm so proud of you. you did so well. you get to be happy, too.

the jeonghan on the other end of the video call has been quiet for the most part of the past half-hour. you'd be more worried if you hadn't already predicted where his solemness was coming from. "hannie? still with me?" you prompt gently, and he finally tears his gaze away from the ceiling to look back at you. "yeah. yeah, i'm with you," he answers. a beat. there are some things you no longer have to say out loud. how he wishes he was there. how he misses them and tries not to let it show. instead, you give him a reminder that's quiet and firm. "this is yours, too," you say. this award. this moment. these boys. all still his. there's a ghost of a smile on his face as he mumbles, "right. of course. how could i forget."

joshua likes keeping lists. a running one he has with you is that of gratitude, where the two of you try to end each day with acknowledgements of what you're grateful for. you're expecting a whole essay for him after tonight. he surprises you by keeping it short, sweet, and straight to the point. in no particular order, he types out into your shared note. music, the boys, you. hours later, he adds a footnote like it'd occurred to him as an afterthought: i'm always grateful for those three, but especially so today.

"look at them!" jun shrieks. his video call pixelates, either from spotty connection or his sudden burst of enthusiasm. you have half a mind to warn him that he may get a noise complaint again, but this time it'd be completely warranted. he's positively vibrating with excitement, his eyes glued to the livestream of his twelve brothers ascending the stage for their second award of the night. "look at them," he repeats, and this time his voice is more reverent than anything. you could comply, could do as he's asking, but your eyes are trained elsewhere. and look at you, too, you want to say. look at you and all that you've done to get this far.

even though it's been an exceptionally long day, soonyoung comes home brimming with adrenaline. he does dance routines in your living room. he jogs around your block until you beg him to just come back. he sings in the shower before collapsing onto the bed next to you, where he suddenly becomes boneless. the glow of pride stays even as the exhaustion hits. he pulls you against him and cuddles right into you. to soonyoung, this is as good as any trophy: the peace that comes with falling asleep next to you.

wonwoo has no destination in mind. he has a car with a full tank, and a playlist of all his favorite songs, and you in the passenger seat. that's more than enough. you pass through tunnels with warm lighting; expressways where he keeps the windows down so the wind will whip at your hair. occasionally, you'll stop to grab a snack or take a photo of something interesting on the side of the street. after hours of just going in circles, he'll ask, "should we keep driving?" even though he knows you'd never deny him this. this. his little celebration in the form of getting 'lost' with you.

nobody hears from jihoon for the next couple of days. the managers are worried, but the boys all just shake their heads and say that he's in good hands. which means: he's wherever you are. the two of you don't talk about his speech, about his public breakdown, because both things make him want to hide forever. instead— he sleeps in. he watches movies from months ago that he promised he'd get to. the two of you go on walks at night, and have breakfast at lunch time. the vicious cycle will soon have to begin again. jihoon knows that. but for a few, precious moments, his heart is not a heavy burden because it's safe and sound in your capable hands.

seokmin takes you on the textbook definition of your perfect date. a shopping spree? here's his black card. an amusement park? he'll rent out lotte world for the day, if he must. you're understandably baffled. he's the one who just won big, and yet you're the one being treated like royalty. try to resist and he'll only push back on you. seokmin already spoils you enough as is, but this is just a little more over-the-top than the day-to-day stuff. at the end of it all, his rationale is as sweet as it gets. "you keep me going," he tells you. "and so you deserve just as much credit as i do."

mingyu has always liked to celebrate with a meal. you'd expected his usual fare of some swanky restaurant or high-end café, but, this time, he asks for only free reign of your kitchen. he props his phone up against the salt shaker and pulls up a youtube video before flashing you his best 'just-trust-me' grin. your trust is not misplaced; the two of you do manage to bake the celebratory cake, though whether it's any good is an entirely different story. the end result doesn't matter as much as the process. mingyu is happiest about the flour marks on your cheeks, about the kisses he steals while you whisk eggs. it's not a birthday cake, but you light up a candle for him anyway. just for the hell of it. "make a wish," you tease. he's looking straight at you as he blows at the flame.

minghao asks for a beach day. the two of you set out for the nearest one. maybe the sand is a bit rocky; the shore, lacking in shells. he doesn't care. he only seeks out the sun beating on his back, the saltwater clinging to his skin, the first punch of air after emerging from the water. as the stolen weekend winds to a close, the two of you sit at the point where the water lap at your toes. neither of you have to speak. here, minghao lets the tide wash away the ache of homesickness. here, minghao redefines 'home' as a future with the boys of his youth, with the music that is as constant as the waves— and with you, of course.

the ferry ride to jeju is about four or so hours long, but seungkwan doesn't mind. there's just something so right about getting on the first vessel that will take him back where he has family waiting with a homecooked meal and a play-by-play of the award show. besides, the ferry means having four hours of uninterrupted leisure time with you. the pair of you literally have nowhere else to be except this boat and this point in time, which seungkwan is a little guilty to be so happy about. he's a glutton for your time and attention, and these ferry rides— these trips home— remind him just how much he likes taking the scenic route.

vernon treats it almost like it's just another day. almost. you're thrown off by his initial nonchalance, by the lack of utter fanfare in the way he asks you out to lunch and the two of you barely discuss the recent accolades. when you prompt him about it, you realize it's not because of arrogance or ignorance. "we're just doing what we always do," he says with an expression of mild confusion. winning?, you almost inquire half-jokingly, but that's only part of it. he elaborates, "we were just ourselves, y'know?"

when chan suggests a rage room, you're understandably confused. the wrath-based activity doesn't seem like the most optimal celebration, but you're not about to cramp his style. the two of you queue the angriest songs known to man before smashing some defunct appliances and throwing empty bottles against a wall. once your time is up, chan looks at you with that familiar spark of fire in his eyes. that dedication you fell in love with, that passion that has always burned bright. "again?" he asks, and you know it's not just the rage room that he's asking for.

#seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #୨ৎ muse .ᐟ svt #୨ৎ penned by ylangelegy #( sorry if this is a bti of a mess/all over the place/at varying lengths etc. )#( i'm a bit conked out and i'm Very Emotional and i hammerde this out in one sitting. )#( my svt ! i love u ! aaaah . good night )

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