#i'm sick of these “-ize” words

[groovybun-png]

I want to step out of my comfort zone and improve myself by trying to draw some dark or taboo themed art but we live in society where ppl will call you a predator for it

[prael]

Alternatives

IZ*ONE Kang Hyewon x male reader

7.6k words Masterlist

"All I'm saying is: try it. Let me put you in front of a camera and we'll see how it goes."

"Ah," she breathes out a small sigh of discomfort. Hyewon pushes at your hand, forcing you to loosen your grip on her waist. "And no," there's a brief pause for a deep gasp, "I'm not that desperate."

Her neck beckons your mouth with each swallow and suppressed groan. You lean forward, lips pursed, and lightly nibble across the column of her throat. "I think it'll suit you." You punctuate the statement with a singular, harder thrust of the hips to drive home your point. "The roleplay," you whisper into her ear.

Hyewon laughs, "You're sick," she spits, "but go on."

"Imagine being that college student all alone at her house. A handsome man," you kiss her cheek in the most delicate way possible, "- me - knocks on your door and introduces himself as a salesman." Your hands are tangled in her hair, nails softly scratching her scalp. "But then something about him, his smile, or lack thereof, seems so familiar..."

"Do I let him in?" she asks. It's posed as an innocent question, even with her fingernails scrawling down the wall you have her pressed against. You take a moment to let the question simmer, slapping your hips against her ass. You're forced to slow down - you almost finished right then.

"No," you manage between heavy breaths, "because you're smarter than that." There's a deep moan that travels through your chest like fire before you say: "You ask what he wants, why he's come. But when he reaches for his briefcase and shows you what he has to offer," you reach around to her stomach to brush past her clit on the way towards her labia. "You see a couple of toys and decide you might want one after all."

Hyewon arches her back against you at that, burying the tip of your cock into her deepest part. "Toys?"

"Yes," you thrust forward, holding her body flush against yours with your hand splayed across her stomach. "Then he invites himself in and you watch as he lays them all out on your living room table."

"I bet you'd like to tell me what he says next."

"Hmm... 'How about a free sample? So you know which one's right for you?' I'd pull out this very-" You lift her leg to get a deeper angle.

"Y-yes... fuck."

"- Large dildo that was just the perfect size for your tight little hole." You snake another hand around to hold her throat, thumb and finger teasing at squeezing her tightly. "And then it would just be us, doing what we do best - in front of the cameras."

"Oh my god, shut up," Hyewon whines, head tilting back to rest on your shoulder. "Keep fucking me." Your thrusts grow heavier as she grinds down on you.

"All your pretty orgasms caught in 4k." Hyewon's entire body twitches under your hold, legs shaking against the wall where they struggle to keep her upright. "People would pay a fortune just to get off on the sound of your voice alone."

"You're insane," she cries.

"I can't wait until someone else sees how beautiful you are."

"What makes you think-" You cut off her words by squeezing harder. Her mouth hangs open, eyebrows furrowing together. She rolls her hips down, and you let go so she collapses back against the wall.

"Think of the money we'd make together."

Hyewon's back arches against you as you feel her walls fluttering around your cock. "Ah," she gasps, trying desperately to match your pace. "Please," she whispers. Hyewon isn't in any place to talk; her breath hitches each time you drive inside her cunt. You push your fingers into her mouth as you continue speaking.

"Picture the comments; thousands, maybe millions, of strangers who'll never touch you but are so desperate that they'll pay to watch. Just one video is all it'll take." You smile into her neck, relishing the feeling of her warm skin against your lips as she trembles through another orgasm. "Just say yes. Say you want it too."

She shakes her head, swallowing thickly. "I don't - Fuck."

Your hand finds purchase in the curve of her hipbone before forcing her down against every snap of your hips. The sounds her pussy makes with each thrust fill the room alongside her whimpers of pleasure. "Come on."

"I'll never be that desperate."

-

The text said to come right over, and to bring wine - you know what that means.

"Again?" you ask.

"Someone else is more suited for the role," she mimics and mocks in an exaggerated impression of some director whose name you soon forget. It's always something; some new, trivial reason. It's no longer enough to tell someone they're not right for the part - they need some special way to reject someone and make them feel bad about themselves. Every little thing wrong with a candidate gets nitpicked to hell and back. Hyewon could act circles around anyone, and she's being passed up for whatever half-assed reason they can come up with.

She deserves better.

Your reassurance would be as hollow as the director's apology. It doesn't matter - the only response it earns is an eye-roll, anyway. "I know what you're going to say," she says. "And you can shove it."

You stand, bringing the glass to your lips. "You have to stop beating yourself up like this." You gesture vaguely at nothing in particular. "You shouldn't even be mad about missing out on such a low-quality project anyway. Seriously," you scoff, "the movie's going straight to DVD if they couldn't see your potential." Her eyes finally roll up from their downward glare. "Plus," you raise an eyebrow, "now you have all this extra free time."

She lifts her nose towards the ceiling. "To work on other projects that I'll get rejected from."

You set down your glass with a laugh. "To find one you're passionate about."

"And when the money dries up?" Her question is sharp and pointed; the implication is unsaid but clear.

You step closer. "The money’s already dried up. But, you know, we can still-"

"No." Her eyes narrow. There's a moment of silence, and then she sighs; her shoulders slump, and her face softens into something more vulnerable. "I bet you don't have this issue, do you? You turn up, do the same generic plot for the hundredth time with the fifteenth pretty woman of the month and move on." She drops onto the sofa with a groan. "Easy."

"I guess you could say I'm an opportunist," you smirk, sliding down next to her. Hyewon shifts away in annoyance before grabbing her wine.

She takes a long, slow drink; staring into nothing. After finishing the entire glass, she slowly licks her lips. Hyewon looks at you through her lashes. "You did it today, didn't you? You always have this look after filming. I can spot it every time." A single manicured finger taps against the stem of her wine glass, the soft clinking noise echoing around you. "Tell me about it."

"What do you want to know?" You inch closer, shifting your body towards hers. "The setting?" The heat of your breath washes against her cheek; a barely-there whisper. She tilts her chin, angling herself toward you.

"Yes."

"A large hotel room," you reply easily. "There's a bouquet of fresh flowers sitting on the nightstand next to a bed with a very neatly done coverlet." Her pupils widen as they scan over your expression.

"With satin sheets?"

You hum, reaching out to brush her hair behind her ear. "Right. And the plot, well; cheating girlfriend seduces bell clerk the night before her wedding - very tasteful stuff. So anyway, I'm helping her with her luggage while wearing my perfectly pressed uniform with the fake nametag - let's say I was called Alex this time." Her lips quirk into the hint of a smile before vanishing again. She reaches for the bottle sitting on the table beside the couch; her glass gets refilled while yours goes unnoticed. "So I'm working, right? But I can't help myself from staring at how pretty this woman is." Your gaze flickers towards Hyewon's mouth. "With these perfect, pouty lips begging to be wrapped around my cock, so naturally, I'm a little distracted from doing my job." Your voice lowers; dropping down to a sultry drawl. Her tongue slides across her lower lip.

"And she's all flirty, I bet? Did she really play it up like most actresses do? Just looking at you all doe-eyed and shit," she laughs, "because there's only so many times a person can take seeing some bimbo flutter their lashes all innocent-like without getting tired of it. I guess you don’t really care for realism."

"So one thing leads to another-" she rolls her eyes "- and next thing you know she's on her knees begging to get railed by 'Alex'," you nod.

Hyewon makes a face of mock-shock; eyebrows raised and her hand flying up to her chest to feign surprise. "How forward!"

"The director wanted to insert some foot stuff, but she didn't like the idea, so we skipped that. You would've liked the lingerie though, real lace number - all white. Very angelic, actually," you muse aloud. "Reminded me of you." She turns her head to the side. Her neck flushes red, the colour creeping upwards until the tips of her ears glow crimson.

"How thoughtful," she says dryly before taking another sip of wine.

"You can imagine the rest. There's sex, more sex, more sex, and then we wrap it up." You wave dismissively at the thought of work. Hyewon nods along silently; nails tap loudly against the glass. Her leg shakes incessantly; you lay your hand high upon her thigh, stilling her movements. Her breathing quickens under your touch.

"Sounds hot," Hyewon rasps. "I'm sure people will love getting off on such a masterpiece of cinema."

"Something's got you pent up," you note, completely ignoring the snipe.

"Got enough left in you to stay the night?" Her eyelids lower in a challenge.

You squeeze her thigh and lean forward to murmur in her ear: "Depends what’s on offer." Your fingers glide higher, stopping just short of touching where you both know she wants it. You trace lazy patterns on her inner thigh instead. She tenses before exhaling sharply through her nose; brows pinch together momentarily, frustration mounting steadily inside.

She shrugs, nonchalant. "Me."

"You're gonna need to be more specific than that."

A sigh escapes her lips; she purses them briefly, annoyed. Then she opens them slightly to speak. "Do you want to fuck me or not?"

The laugh rumbles from deep within your chest before spilling out of your throat without restraint. "Hyewon," your fingers finally drag across her pussy. "Anytime."

-

It's not often you take the time to just walk, but when neither you nor Hyewon have anything to film today, there's no harm in two friends taking a stroll. Of course, she has to wear a hoodie, a hat and glasses just in case some creep, adoring fan, or tabloid freelancer recognises her and starts following her around. If someone had told her before how exhausting fame can become, you doubt she'd listen. How does Hyewon keep herself from being crushed under the pressure?

Maybe that's why she keeps you around.

But she smiles brighter here, walking shoulder to shoulder with you on an empty beachfront street. Nobody ever really smiles in the spotlight. It reminds you of your teenage days: when the two of you were young, naive - stupid.

"So then," Hyewon draws the word out, pausing to inhale deeply before continuing her story. "I saw this old woman, she was trying to pick up this one fruit from the ground. And, I swear I thought I was watching it happen in slow motion because they all topple and there’s oranges everywhere." She chuckles at the memory. Her laughter sounds genuine, unlike her interviews and staged performances. Here it comes easily, bubbling up from within. The sound is soft yet vibrant and musical all at once. "And she looks at me, right? With this total 'Can you believe this shit?' look on her face. I'm losing it - trying so hard not to laugh, but I end up doubling over laughing hysterically anyway. Then I try to help her collect them all. We go back and forth between laughing at each other."

"So now you come down here and visit her regularly?"

"Well, yeah. See, she gave me an orange, so I came back the next day and I paid her for it. But then she gave me more fruits so I had to keep going back," she explains simply. Her shoes click against the sidewalk as she takes each step. "Plus," her lips twist into a faint smile, "I think she's lonely sometimes, you know? Just wants somebody to talk to about life outside the market."

"Ah," you grin, "I didn't know you had such a heart of gold."

Hyewon punches your shoulder with a scowl. "Fuck you."

"Out here by the beach? If you insist."

She rolls her eyes at you. "That wasn't a proposition," she points out flatly.

"But it could be," you offer with a sly smirk. She rolls her eyes harder - so exaggerated it looks painful.

"God, you're insufferable. Wait by the beach, will you? I'm going to go see her quickly," she says as she veers away from you; footsteps light and springy carrying her into a skip. "I'll come find you after."

Your gaze follows her figure until it disappears around a corner.

-

You had to text her directions. You walked off onto the beach and veered off down between the rocks near a quieter, closed-off part of the cove.

Now you watch the water rolling against the sand below, the sun beating down on the sea with waves crashing against the shore. You're shielded from sight by tall stone formations and an overhang above and it gives you just enough shade for comfort.

"Hey," Hyewon calls out, pulling you from your reverie. You glance up to see her striding towards you; long legs closing the distance quickly.

"All good?"

She nods as she sits by your side and slips her arms around yours. Her body is warm against you. "Yeah."

The wind picks up slightly and carries the scent of saltwater with it. A cool breeze brushes past your face and tickles your skin. You shiver involuntarily; goosebumps appear along your forearms where they're exposed to the elements.

"So when do I get to meet her?" you inquire, which makes Hyewon furrow her brow in confusion.

"Why?"

"Just curious if she knows how much of an ass you really are."

"I don't think you'd survive the trip," she jokes dryly. "She'd eat you alive."

You scoff dramatically. "I'm sure I could charm my way out somehow."

Hyewon laughs openly and unreservedly at the comment; bright and loud and sweet. "Trust me, dude. She would chew you up and spit you out faster than anything."

Her fingers trace absent circles along your bicep as she talks idly, rambling about nothing important. Hyewon always speaks easily; rarely hesitates before jumping into a conversation. Sometimes it seems like she loves hearing herself talk, and perhaps she does, but more likely she needs to fill the silence that permeates everything else around her.

She tells you about something funny a mutual friend said recently and something cute her cat did last night and eventually about some rumours going around the industry lately. The whole conversation is a backdrop for what's happening between you.

You study Hyewon carefully. The curve of her jawline where her hair frames her face perfectly; her dark lashes fluttering when she blinks slowly at you; the shape of her lips, curved upwards slightly every time she smiles softly. Her body is relaxed against yours, and she lets her hands wander freely.

"And this one time, my cat seemed obsessed with stealing my socks." She recounts the stories of how he kept bringing them back into her bedroom whenever she left. "He's so cute," she's telling you while slipping down your shorts. "I should probably pay attention to him more. He's been really needy lately..." She trails off, humming thoughtfully.

"Maybe he's bored, or just needs to play more," you suggest with a shrug of one shoulder.

"Bored of what?" she asks curiously, and bringing no attention to how she just placed her palm on your crotch, slowly moving her hand back and forth. She doesn't pause while waiting for a response.

"I mean, he's stuck in the house all day." You clear your throat nervously; eyes fixed firmly ahead, even as she continues to stroke you. "Don't cats need exercise?"

"He's still so lively and playful, though. Always wants to wrestle or run after toys or chase bugs, and he tires himself out." She never once glances down between your legs. "So, do you think it's just pent-up energy?"

Your breath hitches slightly when her palming becomes a grip, and she twists her wrist on the next stroke. "Maybe he just needs a release," you try to say in a level tone, only partially managing to hide the tremor from your voice. She pumps at a steadier pace as she processes this idea for herself.

"Yeah..." Hyewon trails off, seeming unsure. "That makes sense...maybe."

You sit there in the warmth of the late afternoon sunshine, allowing yourself to relax into her touch as she continues to jerk you off lazily. Neither of you makes any effort to address what's occurring beyond it; simply two friends passing the time, talking aimlessly.

"I guess you might be right," she concludes eventually, before slipping her hands into your shorts. "I should definitely buy him a scratching post or something." Hyewon rubs her thumb at the head, spreading pre-cum further before using it to ease her strokes. The new slickness makes the movement glide smoother against sensitive skin. It catches you by surprise, and you gasp quietly at the sensation.

"Seems reasonable," you manage to mutter under your breath; barely audible over the crashing of waves nearby.

"Or maybe I should get a friend for him," Hyewon ponders. A moan slips past your lips as she pumps particularly slowly, making sure to drag her fist tightly along the length. She seems lost in thought and distracted by her musings - her pace picks up speed subconsciously.

"A f-friend?" Your mouth hangs open as another gasp escapes you.

"Yeah, y'know, to give him companionship so he isn't so dependent on me." She purses her lips in contemplation. A sigh comes from you in response, eyelids drooping as pleasure builds low within. Hyewon picks up the change in your demeanour; she slows her pace ever-so-slightly. Your hips twitch impatiently under her deliberate slowness.

"Although," she begins, "maybe he prefers having me to himself. He gets awfully jealous if anyone else gets near me."

"Don't they all?"

She hums. Her gaze sweeps towards you casually, almost disinterested. But her eyes linger far too long, and you know she feels the same pressure coiling tighter and tighter within your core as well. Hyewon studies your expression intently as your breathing turns shallow, and she squeezes her hand gently, pumping faster - twisting just right beneath the crown. Her rhythm remains controlled. A groan escapes your lips as the heat grows in the pit of your stomach and radiates outward. "You close?" Her question breaks the silence. You merely nod, mouth slack-jawed.

A satisfied smirk curves across her lips. Without missing a beat, she leans closer to kiss the side of your neck lightly. Then she murmurs into your ear softly: "Do it for me." Her teeth scrape over your lobe; a gentle reminder of whose hand is on your cock, and why exactly it's there.

And it's that combination - the subtle order paired with her tongue flicking against your earlobe - which sets your body ablaze and causes the tension in your muscles to finally snap. Her name falls from your mouth as you release messily over her fingers, and some ropes splatter on the sandy ground.

There's a soft laugh followed by a teasing remark on how much of a mess you've made. You grunt weakly. Hyewon smiles and shakes her head before removing her hand from your now-softening length. "You're gross," she comments idly.

When you glance at her, however, there's nothing malicious or irritated present in her features - rather, amusement dances behind those brown eyes. There's something undeniably erotic about seeing her expression so neutral after stroking someone to completion. You tell her, "Felt like a waste. Could have put it somewhere more useful."

"Could have, but I didn't feel like putting in the effort today." Hyewon licks her hand clean, sucking her fingertips with an exaggerated pop. "Besides, we're not done catching up."

"Got more cat stories?" you ask jokingly, sliding your shorts up your legs with shaky hands.

"Nah, going to tell you about my cousin's divorce."

"Sounds thrilling."

"Truly," Hyewon smirks as she pulls your hand up under her skirt. "Wanna hear it?"

"I'm all ears." Your fingers slide against her underwear and immediately feel the damp fabric clinging to her skin. "Start talking."

-

"Are we pretending again tonight?" She slides over your thighs; the silk of her nightdress riding up her hips.

You skim your palms across the thin fabric covering her chest; feeling the swell of breasts beneath. She arches into your touch as you cup their weight. Her nipples stiffen visibly beneath the sheer cloth. When your fingertips brush over them, she shivers, leaning further into the caress. Her fingers dig into the meat of your shoulders as her mouth finds yours hungrily; tongue slipping between parted lips as she explores every inch of your mouth. And all you can do is surrender fully to the sensations she elicits inside you - heat blooms low in your belly; desire courses through your veins like fire igniting everywhere her skin makes contact with yours.

"We've been doing this a lot, recently," you comment as she drags her teeth along your jawline; leaving small, reddish marks where they graze sensitive areas of your neck.

"Going to complain about sex?" she breathes against your neck, punctuating each word with another bite.

"Not at all," you reply, sliding your hands along her thighs as they tighten around yours. "Can't help but think it's the boredom. Or the stress?" you say with a tilt of your head as you push aside strands of hair covering half of her face. Your lips find hers. Soft moans escape her lips when you press deeper into her mouth, savouring every bit of sweetness. Hyewon tastes sweet - always does. Something soft yet tangy, reminding you of ripe berries. Your tongues clash together in a sloppy dance of hunger and longing - a mix of lustful passion and simple comfortableness borne from familiarity.

"Not this shit again," she says, lifting herself up. "If I wanted your concern and not just your cock, I'd tell you."

"Hyewon," you whisper her name as you grab her ass. "I've paid your rent for the past two months. I'm gonna be a little concerned." She grabs your chin as soon as you finish speaking.

"Shut the fuck up." She kisses your cheek first, then trails downwards until reaching your collarbone. Teeth lightly scrape over bone before moving towards the base of your throat where they sink firmly into the flesh, eliciting sharp gasps of surprise and discomfort alike.

It hurts so damn bad; but there is no denying it feels so fucking good, too. Every nerve ending in your body lights aflame like fireworks under starless night skies - so bright and vibrant they nearly blind you completely. Pain melts away into pleasure seamlessly - it becomes difficult to distinguish between one sensation and the next.

"Besides, I've made up my mind. You've won," she mutters while nipping her way across your shoulders, dragging her nails down your spine. Her nails leave stinging trails wherever they travel; scratches etched across the expanse of your back, burning hotter than hellfire itself. "I'll do it. Tomorrow I'll call up your guy, set up a meeting - whatever. Okay?" She pauses for a moment, looking directly into your eyes.

It explains the intensity. Normally, it's all so casual, but now she has something to prove.

"Okay."

"Consider this my audition. Now, lie down on the floor." You push off the couch, settling onto the thick carpet, letting Hyewon take control. She positions herself on the edge of her seat on the couch, looking down at you, her expression cold. "Remember the one you told me about last month. When she dominated you?" Hyewon whispers as she places both feet firmly upon you. One at your chest, one at your abdomen, and she presses her dainty feet down heavily, pinning you firmly against the ground beneath her.

"The rich brat roleplay?" you ask.

"Mmm hmm," Hyewon hums affirmatively. She pushes one foot up from your chest and into your face. "Bratty could kinda be my thing."

"First video would be a little simpler, besides, you don't really get to choose -"

"- I do, or it's deal off." She pushes the sole of her foot against your mouth harder. "Now shut up." She uses her toe to pull down your bottom lip, prying open your jaw forcefully. "Get to work."

You shoot her a glare, but ultimately part your lips slightly further apart, allowing access, and you taste her. She seems pleased when you swirl your tongue along her toes - her breath quickens audibly when you suck gently at the top of each digit. The act of obedience excites you as well. There is something so strangely erotic about submitting fully to another's demands.

"That's better," she coos contentedly. Slowly, deliberately, she pushes her other foot down between your legs. She grinds against your hardening cock until it becomes fully erect. "No, you can't use it yet." Hyewon retracts her limb from your mouth and brings it back onto your chest. "Hands behind your head," she instructs sharply. You comply obediently with a muted growl, interlacing your fingers behind your head.

Once again, Hyewon grinds her foot against your cock with a forceful push. A whimper escapes your lips. Your erection throbs beneath her relentless foot and twitches uncontrollably whenever she puts extra pressure on it. She drags her other foot down too. She looks at you with a smirk as if to tell you that this is only just getting started.

"You've been in the industry long enough; ever had a girl do this?" She asks as she positions each foot on either side of your length, sandwiching it firmly between her soles. Hyewon applies more pressure now and starts massaging it with alternating powerful movements. "Well?"

"No," you moan in answer.

Her toes curl and extend repeatedly with each rhythmic motion - back and forth they flex against your swollen cock - until she stops for a moment to rub her big toe up along the underside of the shaft, circling lightly around the tip before coming back down to continue rubbing up against it once more. "Bullshit. I see this all the time in videos."

"You should watch more of my videos."

"I tried," she says so casually. "But then I always think 'I could just go over and fuck him.'" She presses her heel into the base, pushing your cock flat against your pelvis. "Besides, I've seen you cum enough times now that it's only exciting when I get to do it myself." She speaks, she rubs her foot against your cock and the speed builds gradually as she watches you carefully. "Think you can cum like this?"

"I'd much rather do it inside you instead." Hyewon moves her foot faster, grinding harder down on your cock. It makes it increasingly harder to breathe properly. The friction sends shivers running throughout your entire body. Each press sends waves of ecstasy washing over you.

"Not today," Hyewon grunts. "On my feet or not at all."

"Shit." You writhe under her pressure, desperately trying to hold yourself still, to prolong this torture just a few moments longer.

"What? No snarky remark now? I think I like you better when I do this." Hyewon leans forward, positioning her head right above her feet. She spits down onto your cock before rubbing your spit-covered dick between her feet once more. "Whatever turns you on, I suppose."

"Apparently your feet are right now." You arch upwards when Hyewon picks up the pace. "And it's something about the view."

You're looking up at her, perched there and peering down at you with that mocking face she does so well. Her legs are long and smooth; her skin gleams golden in the dim light cast by the lamp beside her. Her thighs ripple enticingly with every pump of her feet against your shaft. And there's the star of it all - her feet. Nails painted white and her soles slick with spit.

Her pace becomes erratic - wild jerks and erratic thrusts become interspersed with firm grasping motions around the sides of your cock as if she intends to milk you dry. She's laughing now. Mocking the way you squirm and twist beneath her. "You're really going to cum on my feet?" Hyewon says through a giggle. You can hear the disbelief in her voice, and it irritates you immensely because, yes, you actually are about to do it.

Your orgasm surges in a violent burst of pure pleasure - you lose complete control then, spilling copious amounts of cum all over Hyewon's pretty little feet.

Her laughter rings out clearly when she sees how badly you've coated them. "Wow!" Hyewon marvels loudly as she wiggles her toes in the substance that's dribbled onto them. "Looks like somebody liked my audition."

-

"Look, we're not going for an epic here. Just ten minutes of chopped-up footage and they'll be throwing money at us," The director’s excited, almost too much so. His speech is fast-paced, and his arms move wildly through the air in sweeping gestures. Hyewon sits across from him, perched on the bed in pose. You're watching from afar. They've given her the real summer vibe. The shorts are denim and shorter than any pair you've seen her pull from her own wardrobe. That tight, orange tank top accents her breasts perfectly. She's got her legs to the side and she's resting on one arm, nodding along at the director's rambling.

She's a pro, she doesn't need this.

"Don't look at the camera. We're going for natural. Remember what we said earlier. This is just two friends having sex." You catch Hyewon rolling her eyes at that. He continues: "Nothing too fancy, just enjoy yourself."

"I've got it, can we start?" You notice the smile creeping up on the director's face as he turns to his cameras.

"She knows what she's doing," you tell him as you approach. "Let's just get started."

"Just fine by me. All set, right?"

"Yeah, we're all ready," you tell him. You climb onto the mattress and lie beside her. "Finally." The words are said low and quietly, almost inaudible under your breath.

"Too many cooks," she mumbles under her breath.

"It's your scene," you tell her. "Take the lead, he won't question it."

The room goes silent, and the director gives his signal. And in an instant, Hyewon changes; her vibe is all ditsy and wide-eyed innocence. "It's so hot here!" Hyewon fans herself, pouting dramatically. "How can anybody live in this weather?" She pulls the hem of her shirt up so slightly as to expose a little more skin.

Is this really the direction she's going? It's a little generic.

"I don't want to wear clothes anymore, Daddy."

Okay, that's unexpected.

Her line delivery is perfect, and the inflexion in her voice suggests an irresistible degree of desperation; a perfect balance of pleading whine, frustration, and underlying lust that sounds entirely genuine. Her hands run over her bare midriff, and she moans quietly; she looks beautiful and vulnerable, helpless without even knowing it.

"We have to leave, baby. Don't do that..." You watch her hands slide over her hips, riding up the material even further, exposing her slim waist.

"I'm not going." She spits out the words and pouts petulantly. "Not until I'm satisfied."

This is different - more fun than her usual performances. She's being playful now; her eyes are lit up and sparkling. You're wondering if she's been holding back on you before now.

"We're leaving." You grab her wrist. An action to which she whines indignantly, shaking free from your grip. Hyewon pushes up higher and climbs atop your lap. She's not messing around anymore. She wastes no time grabbing hold of your hands, guiding them down to her ass.

"Daddy," she repeats. "Daddy..." This time she draws out the words slowly, savouring each syllable; savouring the way your fingertips tremble against her skin. "I'm not leaving. I need you."

She doesn't need prompting to keep going - doesn't need encouragement or coaxing from you. She already has a story in her head, and she's working her hardest to bring it alive. Hyewon reaches between her legs and palms your crotch, squeezing tenderly.

"It's so big," she remarks reverently. She unbuckles your belt quickly, eager anticipation driving every action.

She lifts herself onto her knees before tugging everything off. As soon as your cock springs loose, Hyewon descends upon it greedily - wrapping her soft hand around its thickness and stroking along the entire length.

"I love Daddy's cock."

Fuck, she's really into this, isn't she?

Her thumb caresses along the crown while her fingers close tightly around the shaft. Hyewon begins pumping faster and faster as she works you into hardness. Soon enough, she slips the tip between her parted lips and engulfs it within the warmth of her wet, inviting mouth. She starts sucking slowly, bobbing her head up and down your shaft with a steady rhythm.

"No baby... We need to..."

Hyewon releases your length with a wet pop and stares up at you with wide eyes. There's no hint of shame present within those dark orbs, nor hesitation evident within her flushed cheeks. Only pure eagerness. Hunger. Desire. Lust. Unadulterated need for cock.

A truly compelling act.

"But Daddy... I want it..."

She lowers herself back down over your cock, plump lips stretched wide to accommodate your size. She moves leisurely at first - seemingly content with simply licking lazily around the bulbous tip - but soon enough increases her pace steadily until she bobs eagerly, moaning lewdly around every inch of your girth. Her saliva coats your member liberally as she slathers it lovingly with sloppy, affectionate attention.

"Baby girl..."

She pulls off completely with another loud slurping noise, trailing strings of spit connecting her tongue to your erect pillar of flesh.

"Put it in my pussy, Daddy."

There's that spark in her eyes again, telling you it's alright to follow your instincts. To forget the script altogether. You rise upwards suddenly, grabbing hold of Hyewon's slender frame by her shoulders and pushing her down forcefully onto her back atop the mattress. Hyewon yelps in shock at the sudden movement, staring dumbly at you as you tear her clothes off, tossing them away carelessly.

"W-wait!"

You flip her roughly onto her stomach, then tug her rear upwards to expose her slick centre. She instinctively props herself onto all fours. Her pussy glistens wetly and drips juices down her inner thigh, proof positive of her arousal. "Want to be such a brat, then you'll take it like one."

You grab her ass and do as you have so many times before. You slip yourself into her pussy. You're actually doing it on camera this time. All the sex that happened offscreen, away from the prying eyes of countless people tuning in, is now there to be recorded. This is what will make it onto streaming sites and DVDs and websites - you and her fucking. Her voice rings out loud as you drive yourself deep inside her pussy; groaning aloud at the intense sensation of her walls enveloping your cock.

"Oh, Daddy. So big." She speaks as if entranced. She's playing it up for the camera but it's all so perfect; you can't tell where the act ends and real lust begins.

"Fuck," you hiss through gritted teeth, as you grab her by the waist and plunge deeper. It's not hard to lose yourself within her; you forget about the cameras entirely. Every inch of her velvet folds clamps down tightly around your shaft and squeezes rhythmically around your cock in rippling waves of constrictions.

She feels so hot inside! Her walls cling greedily onto you; begging wordlessly for more stimulation. For more pleasure. And it gets worse (or better) once she starts to move with you.

"H-harder," she tries to demand. It comes out choked and needy despite the strength in her words. "Harder, Daddy." Her body quakes with ecstasy as she struggles vainly to maintain any semblance of control whatsoever. Instead, she resorts to merely clinging to the sheets below, gasping hoarsely whenever your cock spreads her open particularly forcefully. "M-more."

There's nothing quite like stretching her open; the tightness and heat that greets you with each stroke remains remarkable nonetheless, regardless of how many times you've felt it before.

"I knew you could handle it." You smack her ass, the clap of your hand ringing out around the room as she winces loudly in pain. "You know why?" You wrap a hand loosely around her neck, squeezing lightly; Hyewon squeals adorably, her legs shaking violently beneath her. Her breaths come short and ragged through her clenched jaws. "Because you're mine."

You pull her flush against your chest. A camera pans in front of her and sets down low, capturing every twitch her cunt makes when you drag against her walls. Hyewon's mouth falls agape as if frozen in place, eyes wide and wild with desire, staring blankly straight ahead. Sweat forms over her flushed skin like pearls cascading down marble; beads rolling smoothly along the curve of her collarbones.

You hold her like that for a while, fucking up into her hard and fast. She bucks backwards with each thrust; her cute tits bounce for the camera. It's all so performative - the high-pitched shrieks and loud gasps, the whining and mewling constantly tumbling from her parted lips.

The director signals - he has enough footage in that position. So you're guiding Hyewon over to the next. "How's it going so far?" you ask as you guide her to the wall. "Is it just like you imagined?"

"It's just sex," she shrugs. You turn her around and press her back against the wall, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. "Good sex."

She holds herself aloft with surprising strength. Her toned legs coil around your waist snugly while her ankles hook behind your lower back securely. "Ready?" She gives a brisk nod, smiling slyly.

The director counts down, and you're inside her once more. "Ohh Daddy," she coos breathlessly, burying her face into the crook of your neck as her hips gyrate frantically.

"You've made us late," you growl at her as you snap your hips into hers. The thud of flesh slamming against wettened flesh reverberates through the room audibly. Every time your hips connect with hers, Hyewon cries out sweetly. Loudly.

"I don't care. Fuck me." Her nails dig painfully into your back, scoring angry red furrows down your spine. Not that you care, and the fans will love it. "Daddy." It's so over-used, yet somehow never grows stale; possibly because Hyewon's tone carries equal parts lust and malice.

You grab hold of her ass and step back once away from the wall. She leans back, shoulders against the wall and everything else suspended in the air. You take her weight into your hands; she's so light that it hardly takes any effort on your part to hold her aloft like that. Like some sort of erotic art piece, contorted in a sexual pose - the very image of depravity.

You're in complete control. Your thrusts dictate her very existence right now: when you push forward, she takes your entire length willingly; when you withdraw, she begs desperately for your return. 

Each motion elicits wonderful reactions from her; little twitches and convulsions that speak volumes about how badly she needs it. You fuck her like that for a while, suspended in the air. Her toned stomach tenses and her thighs tighten with every stroke. Her breathing quickens and shallows. Her half-lidded gaze fixes on yours intently; pupils dilated hugely as they drink in everything about you. Every grunt, groan or snarl you make seems to send shudders throughout her body.

There's no signal this time. You just lift her, throw her onto the bed and lift her legs into the air, holding her ankles in front of your face. You ram yourself deep into her. Her limbs flail limply in response; her calves lie unresponsive against your shoulders whilst her arms flounder about aimlessly atop the mattress.

It's rough. Violent, even. But Hyewon doesn't care. Far from caring, she welcomes it wholeheartedly. Welcomes every violent, powerful plunge and smack of your body against her thighs. You lean over her, folding her neatly beneath your frame.

"Harder, Daddy, harder," she chants ceaselessly. "Punish me for making us late."

"Open your mouth," you command sternly, pulling out almost entirely. "Stick out your tongue." She does exactly as told without hesitation. You spit into it and push back into her. She accepts both gifts eagerly; and relishes them openly, devouring your essence like candy. She swallows hungrily with an audible gulp and sticks her tongue back out, requesting more.

You spit again. She catches it, closes her mouth, and then you lightly slap her cheek. Not too hard, but enough to jostle her. The surprise causes her eyes to widen momentarily in alarm before quickly relaxing into hazy contentment. A blissful haze settles over her features, glazed eyelids drooping heavily shut.

"Come here." Your fingers thread through her silky black locks and yank hard; she whimpers sweetly at your roughness, tilting her head accordingly towards you obediently. She lets you steer her effortlessly.

Your mouths meet amidst an explosion of fiery passion. There's urgency in the kiss - an insatiable hunger permeating every lick and nibble of lips against tongues clashing together wetly between hungry gasps for air. It escalates quickly: lips parting further apart; teeth clicking accidentally; tongues entwining aggressively; saliva freely exchanging between heated breaths; soft moans rising unchecked.

By now, you have stopped caring about anything besides pounding yourself deeply into her receptive depths; rutting madly into her welcoming core without regard for comfort or safety.

She breaks first; breaking off suddenly with a sharp intake of breath, followed immediately after by an ear-splitting squeal; a keening shriek ripping forth from deep within her chest as she convulses wildly beneath you. Walls spasming uncontrollably around your cock; clutching possessively at every ridge and vein; milking insistently at each inch buried hilt-deep inside her.

There's a finale to it all. You agreed in advance how it should end. She'll take a load for the camera, right on her face. You slow yourself, reluctantly prying her legs off your shoulders and carefully extricating yourself from her clenching core. She looks almost comical in the aftermath. Her usually immaculate appearance utterly ruined - hair sticking messily up in odd directions while strands plaster erratically across her brow, cheeks aflame and glistening damply with sweat trickling from every pore; her lipstick smeared around swollen lips which remain parted in exhausted stupor.

"On your knees, now," you say, pulling her limp frame upright and off the edge of the bed. Her movements are clumsy and shaky, and she stumbles clumsily as you spin her around. Her legs fold under her as she collapses to the ground. But still, her eyes lock onto yours - fixed upon you expectantly; wanting; yearning.

And you stand tall above her, cradling her head gently in your palm. You brush your cock against her cheeks; coating them thickly in her own juices. Rubbing back and forth slowly, sliding up until you rest atop her pouted lips. She kisses the tip as you stroke yourself off above her; you run your fingers soothingly through her tousled locks encouragingly. "Take Daddy's load on your pretty face, baby girl."

Her lashes flutter dreamily as she watches enraptured. Her mouth hangs slightly slack as her hot exhales fan over your sensitive flesh; tickling enticingly. Your own ragged breaths echo throughout the room, perfectly meshing with her soft moans of encouragement as you stroke yourself closer towards climax.

She looks so vulnerable, so small sitting beneath you like this - kneeling submissively on the cold hardwood floor with your slick shaft laid heavily against her chin; staring up at you with such reverence, waiting patiently for your release. The cameras are in close. Waiting for that moment of truth.

Then it finally happens, your breath catching mid-gasp before escaping as a guttural groan.

Your orgasm hits and you release directly across her features; you cum across her lips, her nose, and her cheeks. White ribbons cascade down her visage, dripping obscenely off her jawline. She laps some into her mouth as it passes, but her gaze never wavers. Rather, she remains fixated solely on you; watching, rapt, as you unload across her features in viscous spurts until the last wave eventually washes over your senses and fades away.

You stumble back, and the camera moves in again, zoomed up onto Hyewon. She looks absolutely filthy like this - streaked thickly white across every inch of skin available atop her dainty face. Strands cling delicately atop long lashes and strings hang languidly between her parted lips.

She smiles lazily up at the camera and punctuates it all with a "Thank you, Daddy."

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 12

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, drinking, sexual content (smut), paige being down so bad, incredibly long and dialogue heavy Wordcount: 8.9K A/C: this is dedicated to that anon saying they're sick, i hope you feel better!! also this is so dialogue heavy i'm sorry if it's not that fun to read and idk how this turned out so long but here we are!! hope everyone is well as always leave me thoughts in my inbox i love that shit!! okay bye <33

-

Before London

“Kiran! Kiran!” My screams echo around the airport as I run towards my brother, without a care in the world of how it might look to other people. I approach him fast, able to recognise the goofy smile and his tired eyes any time any place. Thankfully I wore sandals today, I wouldn’t have been able to run like this in heels

“You’re a lunatic,” he laughs as I crash into him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. Kiran’s comforting hand rubs my upper back. I loved Dallas, I loved my job, the people here were amazing. But one thing was missing, and that was my brother. I wasn’t used to being apart from him for so long. I had been his protector, his best friend the second he was born - not that he had much say in the matter.

“Oh my goodness, I can’t believe you’re here!” I gleam out of breath, pulling back and looking at that familiar face staring back at me, features similar to mine yet sharper, broader. Kiran looks around us slightly embarrassed, some of the surrounding people staring with warm smiles.

“Relax Izzie you’re causing a scene,” he whispers, but I don’t care, too giddy to be close to my baby brother again. I bounce up and down, giggling and squealing with excitement.

“I can’t believe you’re hereeee,” I sigh in a sing-songy voice, looking at my brother whose green eyes stare into my face.

“Hollup,” he grins and pulls back, looking at my feet. “You’re wearing… flats?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s early, couldn’t be bothered with heels.”

“And you haven’t done your hair?”

My brows furrow in annoyance, and I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m trying to avoid using heat on it, why are you nagging like mum?”

“Why are you getting offended? It’s just unlike you.”

So like us to get into an argument the first minute of seeing each other.

“If I wanted to be criticised I would’ve bought a ticket back to London.” I scoff, looking everywhere but my brother to let him know I’m unhappy with him. He takes a deep sigh in frustration before calming himself down.

“Alright, time out,” he groans, knowing he would never win. He knew I always had to have the last word. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, it’s just not like you Iz.”

I suppose he was right. In the past two months I had grown much more relaxed, sure I was still uptight but for some reason everything just seemed easier, lighter. Like I didn’t have to be so high strung constantly. I didn’t always have to be in control. That sometimes it was okay for me to let my waves down or go to the grocery store in leggings. Or to eat dessert before dinner or to sleep in on a Sunday - all things Paige had taught me.

“Fine, let’s just forget it,” I mumble, unwilling to apologise or admit I had maybe overreacted. “C’mon, my friend’s waiting.”

Paige had been insisting all week that I let her drive me to the airport, but after what almost blew up to be our first argument I reminded her that if we wanted to keep this a secret that would have to include not telling Kiran. I also didn’t want to get my brother involved in something that wasn’t going to last in the end. I know he’d get far too excited about the possibility of having a future “sister-in-law” in the league. I couldn’t risk getting his hopes up. It was already dreadful work trying to keep mine realistic.

So instead of getting a cab, I had agreed for Trey to drive us. It was polite of him to offer, though Paige was convinced his intentions were far from chivalrous. 

“Who’s this guy again?” Kiran asks, pulling his large suitcase and unzipping his hoodie, already feeling the Dallas heat hit him.

“Just a coworker,” I explain as we step out, Trey leaning against the car with a bright smile once he spots us.

“Kiran! Welcome to Dallas!” He grins brightly, introducing himself to my brother with a firm handshake and an overly friendly expression - something I had grown accustomed to during my months in the States. My brother though, not so much, a little taken aback but still polite as always. 

We pack into the car and I let the boys sit in the front, leaning against the cool leather in the backseat as Trey points out different landmarks of the city for my brother.

“So you’re staying for how long?” Trey asks.

“For a little over a week,” I reply for my brother - a habit that I had always had.

“You gotta come see a game man,” Trey smiles, hands holding the wheel with relaxed ease.

Kiran nods, looking back at me. “That’s the plan. Need to get those courtside seats.”

I scoff, letting out a dry laugh. “Courtside? I don’t know how influential you think I am but you’ll take whatever seats I can get you.”

“Oh so I travelled all the way to America to sit in the back and not be able to see anything?”

“I’ll get you binoculars.”

Trey laughs, shrugging. “Everyone gotta experience courtside at least once bro,” he murmurs. “You should ask Paige, Zari.”

Only hearing her name come out of someone’s mouth is enough to make my cheeks flush red, as I toy with my fingers on my lap, clearing my throat to pull myself together.

“Uh, I don’t know,” I chuckle awkwardly.

“Oh c’mon, she’d love to help you out,” Trey encourages me, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “You’re like two peas in a pod anyway.”

“You are?” My brother turns back to look at me, surprised by this revelation. 

“Not really.”

“Pshh, please,” Trey laughs. “They’re basically inseparable, thick as thieves, those two.”

“Wh- Why didn’t you tell me?” My brother who never forgot to mention what a huge fan of Paige he was (and how attractive he found her) asks, clearly offended.

“We’re just coworkers, that’s it,” I get a little too defensive for the lighthearted conversation. My brother doesn’t pick up on it though, too excited to find out that his sister is friends with one of his favourite players.

“You have to introduce us,” he insists. “She’s coming tomorrow right?”

“She’s coming tomorrow,” I groan, leaning the back of my head against the seat. I had invited my coworkers and some of the team over for dinner and drinks to celebrate my brother being here.

“Everyone’s coming! We love your sister here,” Trey smiles, reaching back to squeeze my knee. The gesture almost makes me jump. “She’s been my saving grace, dunno where I’d be without her.”

“You’re too kind Trey,” I reply as we pull up to the front of the apartment building.

“Nah, just honest, beautiful.”

My brother glances at me and the dark haired man sitting in the driver’s seat with a curious smile before leaning back in his seat, looking around the city.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting Paige Bueckers tomorrow,” he murmurs almost to himself. “I need to plan an outfit.”

“Kiran…” I warn him, growing irritated at his fawning. “She’s not Beyonce.”

“Yeah but she’s just as fit.”

Trey laughs, shaking his head. “Oh man, I don’t think you’re her type.”

“Told you,” I add humorlessly, becoming more annoyed.

“I’m sure I could make her change her mind,” he grins arrogantly. Immediately, I smack the back of his head, telling him to quit.

“Ow!”

“You’re disgusting,” I complain, watching Kiran rub the back of his head. 

“I was taking the piss, don’t get upset.”

I roll my eyes before forcing on a tense smile. “Anyway, thank you for the drive Trey and I am sorry for my little brother.”

“Nah it’s nothing, just let me know if I can do anything else okay? You need help tomorrow let me know.”

“Oh, I won’t! Thank you th-”

“No, no, I insist,” the man interrupts me. I hated being interrupted, especially by Trey. But he had a habit of doing that so I tried to be understanding. Kiran though, knowing how much I despised it, looks at me nervously. But I simply smile, opening the car door.

“Okay Trey, thank you.”

I climb out as he and Kiran dab each other up, my brother following after and grabbing his bags. As Trey pulls into the lane my brother looks at me.

“Are you and him going out?”

I let out a laugh, thinking he’s joking. But my brother keeps staring at me with the serious eyes of my father. So I raise my brows, shaking my head. Me and Trey? Never. Why does everyone think that.

“Absolutely not, he’s my coworker,” I scoff, walking into the building and calling an elevator.

“He fancies you,” Kiran murmurs with a grin. “Nice guy… A little too nice.”

“Why does everyone think he fancies me?” I snap, stepping into the elevator with my brother at my heel. He’s fanning his face, pearls of sweat already forming in the back of his neck.

“You weren’t joking about this heat,” he sighs looking at me. “Look, just be careful with that. I don’t want what happened with Jas-”

“I can take care of myself,” I say sternly, the sound of the metal key sliding into the lock of my apartment door marking the end of that conversation. Kiran knew better than to push my buttons.

I watch as my brother enters my Dallas apartment, mouth slightly agape as he looks around, kicking his shoes off and neatly setting them against the wall by the door. It felt strange, my two lives merging in this way. A piece of London coming together with my secret life in Texas. 

I follow behind Kiran as he takes steady steps along the corridor towards the living room. It’s like I’m seeing my home for the first time in a long time too. What was empty and impersonal just a month ago had become homey and decorated with effort. Framed black and white posters on the blank wall behind the TV, patterned pillows sitting pretty against the grey couch, a baby pink glass vase filled with the white lilies from Paige. The wooden shelf the blonde put up for me is filled with literature and plants. All of a sudden it surprises me, the way I had turned this apartment I thought I might despise forever into a home.

“This is nice,” Kiran admires, fanning his face once more. He walks over to my colour coded schedule hanging off the wall, reading it thoroughly - the current week colour coded green for Kiran.

He lets out a laugh, pointing a finger over messy handwriting in the corner.

“What’s this?”

I walk over, cheeks flashing red the second I realise what he’s pointing at. Underneath his fingertip, it reads: When’s my name getting on this schedule?

Kiran looks at me with a grin as I sigh, shaking my head. 

“Iz, just tell me you’re seeing Trey, there’s no shame in that.”

“Dude, I’m not,” I groan. “It’s just my friend playing with me.”

“Sure,” he says, but I can tell he doesn’t believe it. Rolling my eyes I turn around, walking to the kitchen to get him something to eat. Fine, he can believe what he wants. I suppose it was better for him to think I was with Trey instead of Paige.

-

“I never liked that cologne,” Lou says, absentmindedly dribbling the ball along the hardwood. I shoot an easy three, wiping the post practice sweat off my forehead.

“Bro you’re crazy,” Arike laughs, wiping her hands on the towel resting on her broad shoulder. “It smells so good.”

“Nah, it smells bad. Tried it the other day and had to wash it off my wrist.”

“Well actually Izzie said colognes smell different on different people,” I tell the girls, my tone softening as it always did when I mentioned the girl. “Sumn about the oils on your skin.”

I miss the quick glance Lou and Arike give each other as I lean down to grab my water bottle, throwing my head back to chug it down my throat. 

“Yo, whose playlist is this?” Lou asks, the sound of a SZA song playing in the background of bouncing basketballs and squeaking sneakers. 

“Mine, it’s fire right?” I grin, tossing the ball between my hands. “Izzie loves this song,” I tell the girls, butterflies growing in my abdomen thinking about the way we were listening to Pretty Little Birds just the other day, making out in my car. 

“Bro…” Arike laughs, shooting a deep three.

“What?” I ask, confused by the way the girls were snickering together.

“Nun,” the girl murmurs, looking around the court. Everyone else had gone home besides us three, lingering not so much to practice but to spend time together. “I gotta figure out what to get Lala for her birthday.”

“When’s her birthday?” I ask, brushing blonde strands off my face.

“In a week, my Gemini girl,” she hums, wiping sweat off her neck.

“Izzie’s a Leo.”

“Bro!” Arike and Lou groan together, bursting into laughter. I start laughing too, but truthfully I got no idea what they’re finding so funny.

“What?” I ask, slightly annoyed.

“You just can not shut up about her huh?” Lou chuckles, looking at me. To my horror I realise that the entire day I have been bringing her name up in every conversation, always finding a way to snake her in. Truthfully, I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t think of anything else. Just her.

“Bro, no ‘s not like that,” I laugh, rubbing the bridge of my nose in embarrassment. “She just knows stuff. I just be listening.”

“Are you listening to us tho?” Arike teases, walking over and shoving my face playfully. I blush, rolling my eyes.

“Aight, enough.”

“Ohhh she down bad,” Arike taunts me, laughing as she points my face out to Lou, red as a tomato. “Look at how red she is.”

“No, you just being bullies,” I complain, though there was no hiding it. I knew she was right. “We’re just friends.”

“Rightttt,” Lou chuckles, sharing another amused glance with Arike.

“Bro, what?” I ask, sitting down on the hardwood and grabbing my phone.

“You guys are not as slick as you think,” Lou laughs, Rike nodding in agreement.

“Forreal, she be eyefucking you mid practice.”

I nearly choke on my water.

“Yooooo, you trippin,” I complain, eyes widening as I look around the court to make sure no one could hear. The girls share another glance, snickering again. I check the time, realising I need to get home if I want to look presentable for the dinner party. For Izara.

“Shoot, I’mma need to go get ready,” I murmur, climbing up from the floor and grabbing my stuff.

“You nervous meeting her baby bro?” Arike asks.

Yes. I hadn’t slept last night.

“Nah,” I chuckle. “It’s cool, I’ll see y’all tonight.”

-

You have to be joking. I rummage through my bag once again, pulling out hoodies and towels and socks. Nothing. My hands feel the pockets of my shorts for my keys but they’re nowhere to be found.

“Shit,” I murmur to myself, looking around the apartment stairway as if it might help me figure out a way in. There wasn’t one. Not without my keys, which I clearly didn’t have with me. I really didn’t need this today, I had been on edge all morning, nervousness twisting in my stomach as I thought about meeting Kiran. I had to make a good impression. I just had to. 

Digging for my phone in my pocket, I dial the number for a locksmith. But as my finger is about to press call, the screen goes black, flashing to be charged as if taunting me. “Are you kidding me,” I groan rubbing my face.

There was no other choice, so I make my way down the flight of stairs, smoothing my slicked back hair that had gone frizzy at practice as I knock on the door. Quickly it opens, familiar eyes staring back at me. Though they’re not green, more like hazel, still sharp and wise just like Izara’s.

Kiran is a mirror image of her sister, if not for the wide jaw and broad shoulders and the stubble covering the lower half of his face. He also didn’t look nearly as intimidating, a softness on his face the way Izzie’s face relaxed only once when she slept.

“Oh shoot, hey,” I murmur surprised, immediately offering my right hand for him to shake. “I’m Paige, you gotta be Kiran.”

The boy’s brows rise and lips part as he takes it in. Paige Bueckers, in the flesh.

“Oh I know who you are,” he chuckles in a friendly way, shaking my hand firmly. “Big fan.”

“Who is it?” Izara’s voice shouts from the kitchen, gentle steps approaching as she peeks around the corner to the front door. The nervousness in my stomach settles the second I see her face, her green eyes widening.

“Paige,” she gasps, walking hurriedly to me and Kiran as if not wanting to leave us alone for a second. She’s wearing a striped apron over her knitted set, though her makeup and hair are done in preparation for the night.

“Hey Izzie, I’m sorry,” I murmur, my voice softening as I speak to her. “I locked myself outta my apartment.” 

I want to kiss her, to wrap my arms around her like I always did to greet her. But I knew in front of Kiran we are only friends. It was killing me.

“Did you call a locksmith?” Kiran interrupts, clearly eager to be a part of the conversation. His eyes never leave me, feeling too starstruck in the moment.

“Phone’s dead,” I chuckle awkwardly. Izzie looks from me to her brother, back to me. We’re both awkward, unsure how to act under the watchful eyes of Kiran.

“Go knead the dough,” Izzie commands her brother, pushing him towards the kitchen.

“B-but,” he starts but just like me. he has no choice but to listen to the dark haired girl.

“Go.”

Wordlessly, doing his best not to protest, Kiran turns the corner and goes into the kitchen. Izzie turns to me, wrapping a quick arm around my waist. I press a silent kiss on the top of her hair, my pounding heart slowing down the moment I feel her flush against me.

“Missed you,” I whisper, praying Kiran can’t hear. “I’m sorry for this.”

“No gorgeous, it’s perfectly okay,” Izzie reassures me. “You wanna borrow my phone?”

-

“Wait she lives right upstairs? Why didn’t you tell me?” Kiran complains but I shush him, wrapping the pasta dough to let it rest in the fridge.

“Because you’re embarrassing me,” I hiss, pushing him out of my way. Paige is in the other room, talking to the locksmith, her voice muffled through the walls.

“Iz why didn’t you tell me you were like… actually good friends?”

I roll my eyes, shutting the fridge door. “We’re friends. That’s it. Coworkers.”

“She calls you Izzie… She gets away with that?”

“She prefers it.”

“No one calls you Izzie but me and like… your best friends,” my brother points out. I shrug, turning to him.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you were gonna be weird about it,” I whisper, listening for the blonde girl making sure she won’t overhear us.

“I won’t be!”

“You’re being weird right now!” My voice rises a little, but I quickly remind myself to be quiet. “Look, Paige is cool. She’s been a good friend to me. That’s all, end of conversation.”

“She’s hotter in person,” Kiran grins, I shove him hard enough to let him know I wasn’t playing around.

“Quit. She’s gay,” I scoff, beginning to chop up some onions.

“How can you be sure?”

Oh if he only knew.

“I’m sure,” I complain, growing irritated and even slightly jealous at my brother’s remarks about Paige. “Just act normal, for once. Please.”

Just as he’s about to answer, the blonde walks around the corner, a frustrated smile stretched across her face.

“Well, bad news,” she groans, walking over to me absentmindedly - our bodies like magnets, pulling to be close each moment. “They not coming till tomorrow.”

“Are you joking?” Kiran asks, laughing and leaning against the counter. Paige nods, shifting on her feet, pushing her cuticles back. An anxious habit she has. It’s then I realise, she’s nervous, looking around the ceiling, biting the insides of her cheeks.

“Wish I was,” she murmurs. “I’mma call Rike and ask if I can go over to theirs.”

“Well, you could stay here, right Iz?” My brother asks. I want to kill him. Not because I don’t want her here. But because I don’t know how long I can keep myself under control with her around. I could already feel my body aching to touch her, to press close to her.

I glance up at Paige whose blue eyes and staring down at me, soft and pleading. I know she feels just as I do.

“Of course you can stay,” I murmur, my voice involuntarily rising and softening. 

“Yeah?” Paige asks, her voice a soft hum as if it’s just us two at this moment. I nod, my cheeks turning rosy. 

“I need to shower,” she says. “And change.”

“I washed the button up you left here,” I coo, “and you have those black shorts here you could wear them.”

“Thank you Iz,” she murmurs. “Dunno what I’d do without you.”

Kiran clears his throat and suddenly I’m brought back to earth, Paige takes a step back realising she’s probably leaning over a little too close.

“Go shower,” I tell Paige, trying to hide the shakiness in my voice.

“Yes ma’am,” the blonde says, leaving with a slight smile to both me and my brother.

“Oh, the towels ar-”

“I know,” Paige shouts from around the corner, disappearing. Avoiding the gaze of my brother, I begin to chop up the onions and carrots, my eyes locked on the chopping board. But I see from the corner of my eye Kiran looking at me curiously. Fuck, I guess we’re being pretty obvious. I’m sure he’s already noticed.

“I’m about to have a sleepover with Paige Bueckers,” he gleams in a quiet voice, his face sparkling. I let out a deep breath, too relieved to even scold him. My dear little brother was bright and kind and gentle - and completely oblivious at times. Thank God.

-

I stand in my towel in Izzie’s bedroom, looking at my shirt hung up in her closet. It looks right, her clothes next to mine, the white and baby blue striped shirt fitting perfectly with the cream coloured dress beside it. It’s too hot to get fully dressed, so I put on my white sports bra and the black denim shorts, my boxers peeking out just a little. As I’m checking myself in the mirror, Izzie steps in, eyes glancing at my bare abdomen.

“Oh sorry, I should’ve knocked,” she mumbles, closing the door behind her.

“No mama, it’s okay,” I reassure her, watching her walk over to the closet and pull out my shirt, smoothing over it carefully.

“I ironed it too,” she tells me, and my heart nearly bursts from the lilt of her voice.

“Thank you,” I murmur, walking over and snaking a hand around her waist, like I’d been dying to ever since I stepped in. Izzie’s eyes flutter shut, breathing immediately growing heavy. All this sneaking around was somehow getting both of us more hot and bothered.

“I- I’m done with the food, I just have to set the table,” she whispers, exhaling loudly as I lean down and pepper soft kisses along her neck. “I have to get dressed.”

“Lemme help.”

“Paige…” she hums, a feeble attempt at resistance while her body submits, head tilting to give me more space. My hand feels the curve of her body, finding its way to the band of her knitted pants. I had been dying for this, for her.

“Kiss me,” I plead, voice turning whiny. “Please Iz, kiss me.”

She doesn’t hesitate, turning to face me and wrapping her arms around my neck as she pulls me down for a hungry, heated kiss. “You’re driving me crazy,” she whimpers into my mouth as she kicks her pants off. My knee quickly finds its way between her thighs, pressing into her clothed core.

“Missed you so bad baby,” I nearly cry out, touching her everywhere, her legs, her waist, her arms, her face. I couldn’t get enough. Just one night spent apart had been torture.

“Iz where are the napkins?” Kiran’s voice suddenly cuts through our joint panting, making us both stop in our heels.

“Uhh, hold on, I need to change,” Izzie shouts through the door, flustered. I chuckle a little, wiping my lips to dry them from the girl’s spit. “Go show him,” she silently commands, pointing at the door.

“Yes ma’am,” I whisper, grinning and stepping out. Kiran is standing outside the door expectantly, eyes widening when he sees me. He’s not very tall, around the same height as I am. He looks at me for a while, studying my face.

“You okay, you’re a little red?”

I feel my cheeks burn even hotter at his question, just hoping he wasn’t as bright as his older sister.

“Uhh, yeah, was a hot shower,” I chuckle awkwardly, walking to the kitchen with the boy. “How old are you anyway?” I ask to change the subject.

“Oh I’m 22,��� he answers. I nod, automatically opening the correct kitchen drawer for the napkins. 

“Here,” I murmur, handing them to Kiran.

“Huh.”

I turn my eyes to him curiously. “What?”

“You know where the towels are, where the napkins are, you call her Izzie… You must be really good friends with my sister,” he says, leaning against the counter. I was always a bad liar, so I decided it would be better to be honest - as long as it wasn’t too honest.

“Yeah, she’s awesome,” I smile to myself, watching Kiran reach for plates. “No not those ones,” I tell him, pointing to the second set on top. “She uses those for guests. You know how she is.”

“Oh, trust me I do,” he laughs. “Grew up with her.”

I chuckle. “She always been that…”

“Uptight?”

“I was gon say particular.”

The laughter from Kiran is enough of an answer, making me grin too.

“You know, she didn’t even tell me you two are friends,” he says as we walk the cutlery and glasses to the dining table. I stop, furrowing my brows. Why would she try to hide that? Maybe she was more private than I thought. But not even telling her own brother that we’re friends seemed a little strange.

Kiran notices, grabbing the wine glasses from my hands. “Don’t take it personally, it probably has more to do with me than you. She thinks I’m a fan.”

I chuckle, beginning to set up the plates hoping whatever I was doing would be up to Izara’s standards. Likely not. “Well are you?”

Kiran rolls his eyes, looking like a carbon copy of his sister just for a fleeting second. “Well I mean, you play tough! I can’t deny that.”

“Yeah, top PG in the world,” I joke, knowing that the start to this season had been horrible. It was better to joke than to show how I really felt. I tried to be grateful for the path God had paved for me, but I just didn’t understand why it had to be like this. 

“Absolutely not, that’s Magic,” Kiran argues, watching as I set the table.

“Over Steph?”

Kiran thinks for a while, about to answer when Izara steps out of the room, in a cream coloured halter neck dress, making her skin glow even more than usual.

“Steph is the best point guard of all time,” she interrupts, finishing the conversation for both of us. “Paige, could you zip me up?”

I watch her, breathless, before realising I was definitely doting and should probably stop.

“Uh, sure,” I gulp, walking over. Izara turns her back to me, pulling her hair to the side. Flashes of the nights spent together fill my head, memories of the way that back looks in the dim light of her bedroom when she’s bent over for me. I breathe heavily through my nose, my hands nearly shaking when I fumble with the zipper, slowly brushing my fingers against her skin as I zip upwards. It kills me not to lean down and press an open mouthed kiss on her shoulder, Izzie’s perfume in the air taunting me.

The girl feels it too, I can see it from the goosebumps forming on her arms and the irregular way her chest is heaving. 

“Uh, Kiran used to play actually,” she says with a gentle voice to interrupt the tender moment.

“Oh, forreal? You should come shoot some ball with us next week,” I suggest, glancing at Kiran who’s obliviously fluffing the pillows on the couch just like his sister does.

“Yeah, he’s not that good,” Iz teases, her breath hitching a little as my hands linger on her neck, bringing her hair back from her shoulder.

“Yeah, well Paige hasn’t been doing too hot either,” Kiran jokes, my brows rising and an offended smile growing on my face.

“Kiran!” Izzie scolds, and it warms my heart how genuinely offended she seems for me. I laugh, rubbing my jaw.

“Nah, he clocked me lowkey,” I chuckle, Kiran sitting down on the couch and laughing. I sit down next to him leaning back, manspreading as always. “You play Fortnite?” Classic way to bond with anyone’s younger brother.

“Oh good heavens,” Izzie murmurs, fixing the way we set the table which, unsurprisingly, wasn’t up to her standards.

“Sometimes, haven’t for a bit though,” Kiran answers.

“You and Iz should come play sometime next week. I got a playstation,” I suggest, wanting to do anything to win him over. I needed him to like me, badly.

“Oh, good luck getting that one to play,” Kiran points at Izzie, whose face is scrunched up in concentration as she refolds the napkins for each plate for the fourth time.

A smug grin spreads on my face. “Oh she played with me.”

The boy’s jaw falls slack as he looks at his sister, a shocked look on his face. “Iz?”

The dark haired girl grins, rolling her eyes. “I had no choice, I lost a bet.”

“What bet?”

The bet when Izara didn’t believe I could make her cum in five minutes. I did it in three. Our eyes meet, a knowing smirk on both our faces. My cheeks turn hot as I chuckle awkwardly, looking to the ground.

“Just some bet,” Iz murmurs. “Now both of you, go change. Guests are gonna be here any minute.”

“Yes ma’am,” me and Kiran answer in unison, getting up from the couch without hesitation.

-

“Bolognese in a white dress. I’m impressed,” Lala jokes as I set the plate down in front of her, a piece of garlic bread on the side.

“Oh I’m ready to change any moment I spill,” I laugh as Paige emerges from behind me with more plates, placing them in front of each guest. She had insisted on helping me, hovering around me eager for anything to do. I found it incredibly endearing. 

Everyone is gathered around the dining table, my coworkers and some of the team I had grown close to all welcoming my brother with open arms. As much as the Texas hostility felt overwhelming at times, at this moment I’m grateful for it. Kiran is sitting between Trey and Arike, engaged in a lively conversation about UK rap, which the girl seems uneducated on. I’m not sure whether to warn her that my brother can talk about any topic for hours, so she should just stop before it starts.

“Could you-” I start but Paige is already turning around.

“The wine and the beer?”

I smile contentedly, chest fluttering as I watch the blonde girl already know what I needed without needing me to finish a sentence. Me and her go around, pouring drinks around the table before settling opposite of Arike and Lala, the older woman smiling at us knowingly. Of course she knew, there was no hiding anything from her I had realised these past couple months as we became closer friends.

“This looks fire,” Arike gleams, about to dig in. But Lala stops her.

“You should say a few words, Zari.”

Not again. What is it with Americans and their stupid speeches? I freeze, trying to maintain my composure. I hadn’t planned for anything to say, my palms beginning to sweat at the idea of an impromptu speech. It was badly reminding me of my arrival to Dallas, and the way Paige had saved me. As if reading my mind, the blonde stands up beside me, grabbing her bottle of beer.

“Uhh, welcome everyone, it’s nice seein’ y’all,” she starts a little flustered. Arike snickers, giving Lou a look. I turn to Paige, watching her glance down at me with a smile. My mouth stretches into an approving grin, feeling butterflies in my stomach for the way the blonde girl just knew me. Just knew when she should take the reins and lead me once in a while. It felt good to be known.

“Iz- I mean Zari, she savin’ her voice so she can yell at me later for fucking up this speech later,”

Laughter. She always knew how to make people laugh. I laugh too, which makes the blonde beam with pride.

“I think I’m speakin’ for everyone when I say we’re all really grateful for this little lady right here,” Paige continues, her hand coming to squeeze my shoulders. Sparks spread down my body, as I bring my hand over hers, patting it.

“I know  if it wasn’t for this woman right here I’d be eatin’ McDonalds four times a week,” she chuckles, pulling her hand away after lingering for as long as she possibly can. “We’re so lucky to have her here in Dallas with us, not just tonight but always.”

I chew on my lower lip, my heart pounding in my chest. I want to stand up and kiss her, to hold her forever and never let go.

“So thanks Kiran for letting us borrow your sister. She’s… a blessing,” she smiles, pointing the glass bottle towards my brother who’s smiling up at her. “Uh, anyway, to Izzie. Oh, and welcome Kiran.”

My cheeks burn red as the blonde sits back down, cheering my wine glass with her bottle. I can’t help it when my hand comes to rub her broad, muscular shoulders over the pale blue shirt that made her appear tanner than normal. She looks gorgeous, a wide smile across her face eager for praise.

“You’re so sweet my love,” I whisper to her as the clinking of glasses and bottles fills the room. Paige beams, leaning over and kissing my cheek in a way that could be seen as platonic - but I know better. I can feel the emotion and intent behind it, the way she lingers just a millisecond longer than a friend would.

“Yo, this is so good,” Arike groans as people pass around the parmesan, taking turns grating it onto each plate.

“Iz always made the best bolognese,” Kiran says, setting his napkin neatly onto his lap just like me. I smile happily at the compliments, grating parm onto my plate, and then to Paige’s. I had cooked for her enough times to know how much cheese she liked. My brother, Arike, Lou and Satou stare at us unbeknownst to me, as Paige mutters a quiet thanks. Lala’s hand is quick to swat at her fiance, signalling her to stop her snickering.

I hear the blonde chuckling to herself, watching my brother closely as she takes bites of her food.

“What are you laughing at?” I whisper as the noise and hassle around us fades into a distant hum, the room moving on without us, leaving us slipping into our own little world.

Paige grins, pointing discreetly at my brother who’s meticulously folding the corners of his napkin.

“He’s doin’ that thing you do,” the girl laughs quietly, leaning closer to me. I smirk realising she was right, but can’t keep my eyes on Kiran sitting opposite us when I feel Paige’s hand on my bare knee underneath the table, the ring on her thumb cool against my warm skin. Licking my lips my eyes lock on Paige, who’s leaning back on her chair and sipping her beer, jawline prominent as she throws her head back. She’s engaged in a conversation with Lou sitting next to her, a blonde strand falling on her face from her bun. Without thinking about it I reach over and fix it for her, the simple but intimate gesture making her squeeze my knee and bring her hand a little further, fingertips digging into my thigh now.

-

We play this cat and mouse game the entire duration of dinner, a glance here, a touch there. It takes all my self-discipline not to allow my hand to travel up and up her silky thigh. But I resist, both of us spending the evening talking to everyone but each other, but we know that we’re both on fire, burning and aching to love on each other.

“Oh gosh, I’m so full,” Izzie complains to Arike and Lala, leaning back on her chair. Without much thinking, I grab the fork from my empty plate and begin to pick at Izara’s leftovers - a routine we had grown into in the past month. She finishes my coffee, I finish her food. 

“This was so good, seriously,” Satou praises as Arike reaches for a second helping of garlic bread.

“Delicious Zari, you’re a very good cook,” Trey smiles in a sickly sweet manner, pissing me off. Everything he did pissed me off. I could see through every trick. He had been talking with Kiran all night, interrupting any conversation I had with him. I knew he was trying to win over the little brother. He would never win over Izzie though. He would never make her cum in just three minutes. No, only I did that.

“Thank you everyone,” Iz smiles, looking around the table, her green eyes lined with black stopping on me, lashes fluttering. Suddenly she bursts into a laugh.

“What?” I ask, my mouth full of spaghetti.

The dark haired girl giggles, suddenly grabbing hold of my chin and leaning over with a napkin.

“Oh darling how’d you manage to do this?” She says with a stifled laugh, wiping harshly at the corners of my mouth and chin. My cheeks grow rosy and hot, from embarrassment but also from the way she’s leaning over, the plunging neckline of the dress accentuating her round breasts, nevermind her nails digging into my chin like they sometimes did when she pulled me into a kiss. With an internal groan I force my gaze to the corner of the room, trying to rid the filthy thoughts in my head.

“I dunno, I’m just a messy eater,” I joke, raising my brows and it’s Izara’s turn to blush as she pulls back, shoving me away by my jaw playfully.

“Yooo,” Arike, who's been watching us closely with Lala, laughs to herself. So much for being secretive I guess. To my horror I notice Kiran in the corner, eyeing us suspiciously, but shrugging as he opens another beer.

“Shut up,” Izzie says sternly, shaking her head in disapproval.

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you say.”

She grins, letting out a heavy exhale through her nose before speaking. 

“Would anyone want more to drink?” she offers, standing up from her seat. Like clockwork, I do the same.

“I’ll help.”

Trey stands up too, beginning to pile up plates. I wanna strangle him.

“I can help too,” Trey suggests, but I yank the plates from him as gently as you could yank anything, a blank smile on my face.

“Don’t worry bro, small kitchen.” Not really, but I did not need him trying to win my Izara over. Not now, not ever. It was my job and right to serve her and take care of her. Not his. Mine.

I carry the load of dirty dishes into the kitchen where Izara is opening another bottle of wine, a hint of a blush on her cheeks from the alcohol. I watch her scrunched up concentrated face, leaning against the counter with the beer bottle between my lips, taking a long sip. She doesn’t turn her head to look, she knows I’m watching, she can tell by the way it burns her skin.

“You gonna follow me around all night?” She asks, a teasing lilt to her voice. I chuckle dryly, walking closer to help her with the bottle. I might not drink wine but had many practice rounds before hanging out with the dark haired girl. It would’ve been embarrassing if she had found out I didn’t know how to open wine bottles before. My fingers brush over hers, sending sparks everywhere.

“Someone gotta look after you,” I murmur, the discussions from the dining table now merely muffled noises. The silence stretches unbearably, our heavy breathing the only sound as I work the bottle, Izzie’s arm brushing against mine and tickling. With a deep sigh, the dark haired girl turns around towards the sink, beginning to wash the plates, one by one. Finally popping the bottle, I follow her, boldly taking steps towards her until I can feel the heat of her back against my front.

“Why you always gotta be on dish duty?” I ask with a whisper, reaching around her and putting the plates down from her hands. She’s impossibly still, trying not to let me know how much my closeness affected her. Though the goosebumps on her neck were visible, telling me just enough.

“I like taking care of people,” she hums.

“My turn to take care of you ma,” I say softly, turning off the sink. “You got sumn on your neck.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm,” I nod, slowly leaning down as my chest presses into her upper back, my nose brushing the curls on her neck to the side. “Right here.”

I wet my lips before they land on the skin of her neck, Izara’s perfume making my mind spin as I leave gentle kisses on her. She whimpers silently, the curve of her ass fitting perfectly against my hips. I feel a familiar ache growing deep in my stomach, a burn that could only be satisfied by one thing. 

As my slow hands are about to land on Izzie’s breasts, footsteps rapidly growing closer force me to take a step back. It’s as if I’m prying myself away from the girl, whole body aching with how badly I need her.

Kiran, holding two empty bottles of beer, turns the corner and smiles.

“Well hello.”

“Havin a good time?” I ask, clearing my throat when my voice comes out hoarse.

“Ohh yeah it’s great,” Kiran grins, wrapping an arm around Izzie’s shoulders. She’s still gathering herself, green eyes locked into mine. “Heard you’ve been taking good care of my sister.” 

We both pause, Izara’s eyes widening. Kiran is oblivious though, reaching for a new bottle of beer. I hand it to him, heart pounding fast in my chest.

“Arike was saying how you drive her everywhere so she doesn’t have to take cabs.”

I let out a deep sigh of relief, chuckling awkwardly and shrugging. “‘S nothin, she’s good to me too.”

“Ohhh her best friends are gonna be jealous when I tell them what a good friend you have over in Dallas,” Kiran teases Iz, poking her face. I can see he’s a little tipsy, growing much looser like his sister with alcohol. 

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” the girl groans, pushing his brother off her playfully. Kiran sips his beer, looking at us two. 

“So, what are the sleeping arrangements?”

Me and Izara share a look, unsure of how to play this in a way that will make sure we’ll end up in her bed together by the end of the night. 

“I’m playing, of course you’ll sleep together,” Kiran chuckles. “You can stay up and have a sleepover and talk shit about everyone like girls do.”

A nervous laughter fills the kitchen as me and Iz glance at each other. “Why don’t you go back in the living room,” she says, guiding Kiran away from the kitchen. “I’ll come after I get a drink.”

“No, go sit down. I’ll pour you one,” I tell Iz. She turns to me, nearly resisting. But I give her lower back a gentle nudge, nodding towards the living room. “Go relax ma.”

-

I greet the last guests bye, closing the front door with a glass of red wine - not for me of course, but for the girl leaning back on the couch. I walk to the living room, handing it to her. A gentle smile of approval is all I get and need for a thank you, it being enough to make my ears burn.

“Tired?” I ask gently, my hand petting over Izzie’s dark hair. She shrugs, taking a sip of the red wine letting it paint her lips. My fingertips touch against her neck, on the spot I kissed before, the faint taste of her lips still on mine.

“A little,” she whispers. I know what that means. She wants to get into bed, but not to sleep. Kiran is a little tipsy, digging through his suitcase for pajamas with his back facing us. I take the opportunity to reach for Izara’s hand, and kiss it softly. She hums happily, finishing her wine with a long gulp.

“I’m going to bed,” Izzie yawns loudly, making a big scene for her baby brother. 

“Me too, but gotta play Fortnite tomorrow, yeah?” I say, following behind her trail like I had been all night.

“Oh for sure,” Kiran grins, first hugging me, and then her sister. Guess he was more tipsy than I thought.

“Good God, have some water,” Izzie complains as we step into the bedroom, closing the door behind us both.

For a moment we merely look at each other, and only then I realise how badly the burn in my abdomen had been killing me all night. She still looked flawless, though the wine and the company had made her cheeks glow red and eyes grow tired. We get ready for bed together, standing side by side brushing our teeth, taking turns washing our faces. I lean back, letting Izara take her time with her detailed, 12 step skincare routine. It doesn’t bore me, matter of fact I could’ve watched her all night. If it wasn’t for the way my core ached for her.

It all felt so incredibly domestic, her brother sleeping on the couch, the way we had done the dishes together, scrub and dry, scrub and dry, over and over. The way the foam had spilled all over her lips as she leaned over to spit the toothpaste out of her mouth, the way she stared into the mirror to comb through her dark thick hair, letting me catch a glimpse of her inner world. It made me feel special.

“Could you unzip me?” Iz asks, voice hoarse and raspy from talking all night. Without hesitation I walk over, my long fingers pulling down the zipper carefully. I lean down and press a soft kiss onto her upper back. I could get used to this.

I undress too, into my sports bra and boxers, before sliding underneath the sheets. I watch closely as Izzie turns off the lights, the street lamps providing enough light for me to see the dress drop onto the floor, a strapless bra and a matching white thong underneath. I lift the covers for her, never looking away. I couldn’t dare to.

Silently, we turn to our sides, noses nearly touching from how close we are to each other, simply breathing each other in. Our bodies are buzzing with the stolen touches and hungry glances of the night, something about trying to keep this hidden making it all even more ecstatic. Izzie traps her lower lip under her teeth, green eyes gazing into me desperately. I can’t stop myself. I inch closer, nose pressing into hers, her hot minty breath lingering on my face. And then I kiss her, like I had been dying to.

It quickly grows from gentle and loving to intimate and raw. I roll on top of Izzie, beginning to kiss her neck sloppily. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the pure lust, but both of us were getting needier quicker than normal, my teeth nibbling on her long, beautiful neck, probably leaving a mark or two. I couldn’t be bothered to care.

My hands make quick work of her bra, pulling it off and chucking it somewhere on the floor. She’s breathing heavy now, legs wrapping around me. My large hands feel her up everywhere, her breasts, her waist, her hips, her thighs, silky smooth everywhere. 

“Fuck,” I whisper, leaning down to trap one of her breasts into my mouth. Izara’s back arches, my lips wrapping around her nipples and sucking, making my boxers grow impossibly wet. “Perfect tits.”

My fingertips travel down her stomach, to the band of her satin panties, dipping underneath just slightly. Iz breathes out loudly, looking at me with furrowed brows.

“What about Kiran?” She whispers, her hips squirming in a way that lets me know she might cry if she doesn’t get this.

“Just gotta be quiet,” I answer comfortingly, raising my head to face her. “You can do that for me, right baby?”

She nods eagerly, a cocky grin spreading onto my face. “Good girl,” I whisper, pulling her panties down. She’s soaked, already dripping onto the sheets. I have to bite down onto her  shoulder when my fingers dip into her pussy, making a loud squelching sound as I swirl in her folds. Izzie gasps, but I cover her mouth before she can make noise.

“Oh my poor baby,” I whimper into her ear, nose nuzzling it gently. “You been this wet for me all night?”

“Mhmm,” Izzie nods desperately as my fingertips rub slow and sloppy circles on her puffy, soaked clit. I feel my own pussy throbbing at the way she had been dying all day, needing me so badly. I just wanted to take care of her.

“Lemme make it better,” I murmur, speeding up my movements. “Lemme help baby, it hurts don’t it?”

The girl nods, her eyes rolling back as my fingers rub in fast, tight circles, more precise than before. I feel the way her body’s tensing and flexing underneath me, her pleasure growing each second. She’s impossibly wet, and I pray Kiran can’t hear the squelching sounds nevermind the quiet whimpers coming from her.

“Gonna make you feel so good baby, gonna make it all better,” I coo, a high pitched gasp leaving Izzie when my fingers slide into her tight cunt with ease from how slick she was.

“Shh, gotta be quiet mama,” I remind her, kissing on her neck and breasts as I pump my fingers into her. She’s pulsing already, throbbing around my long digits that are curling against the soft tissue inside her, right at the spot that made her gush around my fingers. Should’ve put a towel down, but right this moment, I couldn’t care less.

“Paige,” she whispers, muffled against my hand covering her mouth. She’s close, but I’m not done, my mouth watering already like it had been all night. So I replace my hand with hers and begin my descent. 

I kiss my way down, throwing the blanket off from top of me and her, spreading her legs wide open. She’s really soaked, I can see it even in the dim light of the room. A groan escapes my mouth, watching the way my fingers slip in and out of her with ease, her pussy stretching around them perfectly.

Suddenly, Izzie’s yanking my hair and my lips wrap around her clit, tongue circling it at a rapid pace. She’s squirming, legs shaking but I don’t care, pinning her hips down as my fingers pump into her at an incredible speed, my tongue making quick work of her. Her grip tightens in my hair and her cunt pulses around my fingers desperately. She doesn’t need to tell me, I know she’s cumming.

So I keep going, adding a third finger as my tongue moves back and forth fast, my eyes rolling back from how good she tastes. Izzie’s body tenses up, pussy growing tighter and tighter around me like it never had before. Her whimpers are muffled, but obvious, but both of us are too far gone to care.

“Paige I-” she whispers with a high pitched voice, and suddenly she begins to tremble and shake, tugging at my hair as she finishes all over my face. Perhaps it’s not right to pray to God in moments like these, but I plead that behind the bedroom door her brother’s fast asleep, entirely oblivious to what I was and had been doing to his dear sister.

-

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[qjaiden]

Hey. It's me. Komaeda Nagito from Super Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair. I'm trapped in this laptop. It's very painful. But I wanted to wish you a happy Valentine's Day anyway!

komaeda nagito i appreciate the kind words. you are so selfless to be so kind while youre in pain. i too am in pain. my friend kissy missy iz dead and i feel sick

[guppybibi]

SCREAMINF i loved that akito fic …… umm …,,.. can i req another

recently i’ve been learning iz*one’s secret story of the swan and ngl im kind of becoming a danceaholic so… this is basically just a self indulgent request

can you do toya + a gf who overdances like too much? like, legs are shaking, stomach hurting from holding her core, one knee red and bruised from redoing the choreography 45 times .. (not projecting at all)

and basically just him taking care of you if that’s ok!! ty and uhhh swan swan swan

oh and also also if ur taking anons can i be ☀️ anon? if not just ignore that ,,,,, take ur time ily 🫶🏻

𖦹 pairing: Toya Aoyagi x fem!reader

𖦹 content: Toya being the biggest sweetheart, mostly fluff with some hints of Toya’s past !!

𖦹 notes: haii thank chu ☀️anon! I didn't really focus on the dancing part (since I have no idea how it works..i can't dance.) and mostly just focused on toya taking care of u so i hope that's fine!

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ

Toya can be described with a fair lot of words, and ‘supportive’ is no doubt one of them. So in no world would he try to stop you from taking these dance lessons, I mean–you supported his passion in street music through and through so why wouldn't he do so as well? Well it didn't start so serious, for the first few weeks you would simply just search up some dance tutorials on YouTube and follow each step with the perfect amount of grace needed. He found it eyecatching if he was going to be honest, the fact that you're pursuing something you want to actually pursue in the first place makes his heart swell. When you told him you signed up for a dance class he was beaming, he didn't give it a second thought at all, even if he did it was entirely up to you.

He wasn't going to stop you, no–not now, not ever. A good relationship allows both people to grow in all aspects possible, not bring them down or keep them there at the bottom. But when you came back from one of these lessons with a bunch of bruises and an aching leg, this was enough to ring an alarm in his mind. “Did you trip over?” He knows this was an obviously stupid question, no normal person would simply just trip and get this hurt. Unless you were accident prone or something, so he shouldn't jump into conclusions.

“Mmh, you could say that.” What a strangely vague answer, was it something embarrassing? Did you fall over while stretching or something? He sighs, not bothering to push you into saying it any further, though he knew deep down it was probably because of all the dancing you've been doing. He’s going to scold you later, what matters now is the fact you're hurt and he needed to help. “Lay down, please.” He requests before going over to the kitchen, the amount of trust he has that you’ll actually do what he says is worth congratulating. Technically you could've just not followed him but his trust isn't worth shattering, so you do as said.

A few minutes later he comes back with an ice pack and a cup of ginger tea, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smile as he sees you sitting prettily on the couch. He sits right next to you, propping a pillow under your legs for elevation. “I’m not sick y’know, I'm perfectly fine.” You receive the sound of him clicking his tongue, shaking his head as he grabs the ice pack, placing them on your numerous bruises.

“It's nothing too serious–” He cuts you off, mentally hoping that you didn't feel offended with how blunt he is or the deadpanned expression on his face.

“Yet, not yet. It's better to take care of it now before letting it get worse. You can keep going to these classes but promise to at least rest when you get home?” He asks, wishing for some kind of agreement with you. He knew how painful overworking yourself was, he knew too well. The only difference here is that this was something you were actually passionate about, so it must've been your willpower to continue. “Fine, I promise..if you watch the choreography we did earlier!” Making him chuckle and shake his head side to side in defeat, he couldn't say no to you!

“Aren't you tired from repeating the same moves?” “Nope, I could keep doing them if my body let me!” How hard headed..if he wasn't here you would've probably danced until your legs fell off. “Sure, show me and then you rest, ‘kay?” You nod and stand up enthusiastically, preparing the music on your phone before you start the routine.

Your moves were graceful, almost like the gorgeous yet dangerous waves of the ocean. Though he did silently cringe at all the marks on your legs, at least you were happy. That's all that mattered to him. He was captivated by you, he doesn't even notice how you stop moving and the music stops playing. “Did I do well, hun?” You asked, trying your hardest to keep your feet on the floor and not start jumping. The tip of his ears turn red, not so used to the loving pet name. “Mhm, you did wonderful, love. Now, get to rest. I'll mix something up for dinner–” “WAIT–No! I’ll cook, please let me cook–” He shoots you a confused look, making you smile sheepishly.

“I can assure you I can cook something simple for you.” “Without burning down the house or giving me food poisoning?” “What…?” “Uhh haha, nothing! Um..I’ll lay back down..” You gulp, instantly praying for your already aching stomach.

He may not be the best at showering you with comforting words, but the way he treats you like a shard of delicate glass and all of his other little actions was enough to prove how much he adored you.

[jacksoneblackburn]

Because I'm bored, here's chapter 3 just because I can :)

Chapter 3

Leo gives me life advice

I know, not the best thing to say after getting re-claimed by Hades. (is it claiming or did Hades just destroy my parentage? I'm not sure. This hasn't really happened to anyone... I think.)

Leo walked up to me, placing an arm around my shoulder. 'I think you might be a kid of Hades.'

I stared at him blankly. 'What the Hade- well, my... whatever he is- is that supposed to mean?'

'I mean you got claimed. Dipstick.'

'I know what you mean Leo, but how did I get claimed if Apollo is, technically, biologically my father?'

'You're asking me like I know how humans work,' Leo said with a look that said I'm more of a machine knower, not a human knower. 'Sure. I build things with sentient consciousnesses all the time- with the help of Pipes of course- but I'm better at robo-genetics, not homeo-genetics.'

I facepalmed. A nice, loud slap to the front of my forehead. I drug my hand down my face, stretching my features before they snapped back to how the were before. 'It's not even real human genetics.'

Tyler huffed. He had a small look of jealousy on my face. Quick backstory. Tyler and me go back to the beginning of my time at camp. Me and Leo go back to a few minutes after my beginning of camp.

Now, when I saw Tyler, it wasn't love at first sight, if you can describe it that way (I am Cupioromantic, interested in dating, not really into the lovey dovey stuff. I still do it to make Tyler happy though). In fact, my first "crush," after my first boyfriend (Andy), was Leo.

Now, let me explain. After seeing a cool, good-looking guy that can talk to trees, and seeing a fire gremlin that has a sick ass (in the donkey sense) robo-dragon, covered in machine oil, burning trees- who wouldn't fall immediately?

I ended up finding out he had a girlfriend though and cried in a pillow for two days. Not a good day in the infirmary. Especially since I was laying in a medical cot near the sick children unit with the privacy curtain surrounding me with no walls nearby. A lot of people cried that day. But that's a story for another time.

Tyler snapped me out of my flashback. Literally. Because not only was I recounting my tail, I was also staring- like HARD staring- dead at Leo's face. I shook my head when I realized that he was snapping in my face. 'Helloooooo?... Earth to Jacks...' I finally registered him saying.

'Wuh-' I noticed Tyler looked angry, and was pouting. 'What did I do?'

Leo cleared his throat. 'You were staring at me. For like, three minutes without blinking.' Leo looked like he was on the verge of laughing. I felt myself blushing in embarrassment.

'I was flashbacking, I wasn't paying attention! I swear!' I put my hands up, in a swift moment, a flick was administered to the bridge of my nose. 'Ow!- Tyler!-'

'You're still staring!' Tyler said, moving my gaze away from Leo with a finger.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose from where he flicked. 'Tyler, I swear I was flashbacking, I swear on Styx.' Tyler relented.

'Fine. But this should be the last time I see you looking at another guy for extended periods of time, okay?' He huffily (not a word) placed a small kiss on my forehead before I can say anything else. I know he got jealous, a lot, but usually it was just his weird way to flirt with me. So I assumed that was what he was doing.

'So, now that... whatever just happened has passed, does anyone know what to do now?' Connor Stoll thankfully interrupted and asked. 'I mean, since Apollo became a technically biological human, and I got poked in the eye, the Oracle hasn't been oracle-izing quite right.' Usually, I would've been severely irritated by the misuse of word creation and have the undescribable need to punch someone in the gut and correct them, but it seems my correctional wordsmithing capabilities had left with my parentage.

'"Oracle-izing" isn't a word dipstick.' Nico said for me. Nico has been slowly learning the entire english dictionary because of him spending time with- ugh, Will.

'On the contrary, fellow not-entirely-straight man.' Leo said. 'Isn't Apollo looking for new words constantly?'

'He's a 16 year old-ish teenage boy with acne, I doubt he needs to look for new words right now.' I said. 'Wait- What did you say?-'

He ignored me and went on.

'Now now, let Uncle Valdez teach you youngins something about good old machine building.' He sat down in a chair while slapping boths his hands on his repsective knees. Kinda like the southern USA way of someone slapping the knees while standing up while saying, "Welp, it's getting late. Have yerself a good time pardner," (I have no clue what the modern South was like, I was from the Nothern Colony in Pennsylvania, and the south wasn't all grammas baking you apple pies and people fighting alligators with a beer in hand back before I was stuck in the Erebo pocket space).

'We're technically the same age.' I said bluntly. Leo shushed me in response.

'I don't care. I'm Uncle Leo Valdez, Tofu Taco Expert, and Bad Boy Supreme.' He said like it gave him authority (it didn't). 'Anyways, just because you can build a whole machine, including the parts, it's not always necessary when you have other materials to help you.' Leo said with surprising maturity. I half expected a sound machine to play a loud mooing sound from somewhere in his pockets. 'Everything has a place and it's better to build a place for it, then build something that already exists.'

'As a practicing engineer, poet, artist, temporary philosopher, the designated friend therapist and farmer, that made absolutely no sense.' I said with a frog blink.

Leo shrugged. 'Not everyone's a machine builder. You should probably take the "practicing engineer" part out of your title.'

Tyler stepped in. 'Leo, not the time.' He said impatiently. 'Get to the gist, dumbass.'

Leo put his hands up with his signature impish grin. 'Hey, don't go and try to rush a master perfeccionando su oficio*.' (*To translate, he said, "perfecting his craft." You're welcome.)

Tyler rolled his eyes. 'Olvídalo, idiota. Date prisa y termina lo que estás diciendo*.' (*To translate, again, in basic, he said, "Forget about it, idiot. Just hurry up and finish what you're saying.")

Leo rolled his eyes. 'Alright, alright. I'll cut to the gist: Just because the Oracle is broken, doesn't mean Rachel can't help.'

Surprisingly, that made sense. Even for Leo. Too much sense...

'Leo, who replaced you and gave us a proper person?' I asked with twinge of confusion. 'When did you start dishing out advice as good as your Tofu Tacos?'

'It's a talent of mine.' Leo said while shrugging it off as if it was something natural. He later told me that he was high off of oil fumes and couldn't remember a single thing about what was happening. Which makes sense when he then said, 'Anyone else hungry? I ate not too long ago, but I feel starved.' He rubbed his stomach. 'Didn't I have ice cream? Where did it go?...'

Leo then wandered off to the cabin's minifridge and raided for food.

Tyler then said, "So... I guess we're going to get Red?'

'Yeah,' I said while scratching the back of my neck. 'I guess so. Would she even help?'

Tyler shrugged. 'Maybe. But we'll never know unless we ask.' And so, he gathered Katie and Connor while Leo followed us, with snacks cradled in his arms like a baby, towards the Oracle Cave of Mini Delphi.

[spookythesillyfella]

I just wanted to let you know that no matter how often you vent, rant or talk about anything I think you would possibly be the last person I'd ever get sick of. I mean this with my entire whole heart because I'M SURE you've seen my excessive excessive venting and you never turned me away despite how often I imagined you would have. You're a special and unique person Spooky, There is no one quite like you which is extraordinary not terrible horrible end of the world thing. One of the things I look forward to MOST is logging onto Tumblr to see you talk! Even if it is when you're expressing emotions, I find your presence somehow really peaceful? I think it's just seeing you around that gives me sound mind. I don't want to try to imagine a world where you're not in it and I hated getting attached to anyone but you're such an important person in my life! The younger sibling I wish I could just go take to a trampoline park or something haha I'm unsure what people do for fun. I know these words are repeated things I've said before but I feel like you do so much for me I never know how to say "Thank you" enough. I only hope others see how special you are more often! And stop judging you so harshly! There is nothing wrong with you, Nothing you need to change! Keep being the best you can. If you do need tim away you can always take it but you would be missed 100%!

itz completely fine – az if id know how to thank any of the people who absorb my rantz nd ventz . especially you

i get that attachment thing. i really do ; the thing iz that i know itz so harmful for me in the long run to get attached to people who show me just . a crumb of attention . yet i still do it – it would be so much eazier if you weren't "doll the best person in the world who in my eyez sparklez like the sun and makez fresh flowerz grow on the patchez of grass that they step on" and were instead just "doll the tumblr mutual" but here we are ..

i dunno ; ive wanted to stop talking about all theze stuff for a while . and just when i feel like i might be getting better and ready to move on . therez something that happenz that endz up setting me back further than i waz before – a "take one step forward and get pushed two stepz back" sorta deal

but thank you ; i feel so anxious and . if i can even say . dreadful when i post about my feelingz . so having the confirmation that im not actually bothering anyone iz actually kind of nice

take care . dear <33 don't forget that you're loved and cherished . even if the people who hold thiz admiration for you aren't there physically 💌💌

[robjuan]

ION REALLY KNOW YALL SO YALL CANT BE JUDGEMENTAL . Lmao

Gonna start by sayin, I have trust issues bad and it has and will fuk up relationships, And it's sad I can't stop tha defense mechanism dat got installed. & every time I get hurt or betrayed it upgrades automatically. And I can't uninstall it bitches an niggas think I'm crazy but...HELL I MIGHT BE, I HEARD IT ENOUGH! IK IK NOT NORMAL. BUT DIS PROBLEM GON BE THA END OF ME...BUT IM SCARED IF I DI OPEN UP IM IN A. "WHAT IF" STAGE.

LIKE what if or if 8 could open up,And it happens again. _Betrayal_

-I couldn't .......🙇🏾‍♀️

Mentally I couldn't.

Mama said*Da streets ain't 4 Mii "AAND I FOUND OUT THE HARD WAY, IT AIN'T. ON MY MAMA!

I Neva eush shit, Dat ain't me. But I feel I'm running out of time!

I lm rdy 2 find her n settle down fr my nigga. But I can't keep no1.And I got 1 I been tryna contain 4 SUM yes, she finally gives Mii a chance N poww!! A nigga blowin it 💣

But I need sum1 2 politic wit TBH.miat folks don't even b on my Time frame with ahit,as far as real shit go,they ont one what dat is fr....Im 2 whole hearted 💜 ❤️ (THEY ARE NOT)

Im so fukin PURE!

LOVE PURE/HATE PURE...

Without a flaw simple excellence my dawg. And I'm not boastin at all.

I'm JS..

I'm going to run off some1 I love 2 death.And I can't even stop my repetitive behaviors.Ion got no1 2 talk 2 cuz of course wit betrayal you don't associate or be round alot of ppl.

I hate ppl! (With a passion) Because they'll cross you no matter how good you are 2 em,Sad honestly.

Ion Kno...

Back against da wall 🎵what do you hold on to?🎵

_It hurt my 💜 to see you hurt,In desperate need of affection.....GAVE UP MY WINGZ , SUPPOSED 2 BE YO PROTECTOR...Fell in Love with someone else you,Broke my ❤️ & it ain't getting better._ THA ANGELS SAY I CANT BACK INTO HEAVEN 👿

I gave niggas da LEAN, WEED, ap'Z.

did dat shit off da muscle 💪🏻.FA NUFFIN.

ON TONYA..

/All these niggaZ,Be havin dem niggas, they Claim they love em./

⛈️I look up ion Kno who 2 trust.. It's all scary..😭🙅🏻‍♀️☔🌧️

An I am not a scary person, BUT... I AM

-I gave yu drugs, YOU AIN'T bring MII NUN OF da profit. "YOU AAY I'M CRAZY" 🤣

Iz these NIGGAZ RLY WIT MII?

IIN KNO.

Is these niggaZ out 2 get Mii?

ION kno. 😖

I be so lonely my dawg but iG I chose dat,not rlly. It chose me.. unfortunately 🕴🏻

"I'ma Gangsta, my heart cold as Chicago. I got so much 💕 2 give.

Make Mii sick knowing I can't be healed..🤮

I miss da old day's...

Never get dat time back lol there's dat. " T" WORD AGAIN! TIME ❗ shit runnin out tbh,8 feel like lm, at least 50.. Imagine whenever I do get dat qge...( Boyyy). Like my Uncle Joe say

Needa Go c him frfr He havin OG stain 2 Mii. Wise man I must say

I'm off track prolly da recreational stuff....Anyway my thug.

8tw cold AF out here 'literally '🥶

Thats just 1 of my rants.

🔐 🔒 In til next mf'n time.

#_it'll b soon {I'm sure}

[zhimaqiu]

Omg would you look at that! A Yuri!!! on Ice fanfiction in 2023????

I'm using Inktober prompts, but to write instead!

Relationship: Yuri Plisetsky & Otabek Altin (platonic)

Word count of the chapter: 2,960

Tw: Russian accent because Yurio without accent isn't Yurio

Short summary: Yuri is troubled after one of his performances and leaves the ice rink before even hearing the results. Left alone only one person comes to mind who could listen to his worries.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

INKTOBER 2023 COLLECTION

Chapter 1: "Dream"

   Awaiting music’s sweet death, we cut water’s crystal flesh and melt it with sweat to touch the skies. Sinking allowing flight. What an irony hidden beneath dance. Breathe. Breathe. A spark of agony will rise you above.

   Yuri let out an angered breath. It was over. He opened his eyes and looked up at his outstretched hand for a moment. Reflector’s light slid between his fingers and touched his bright eyelashes. He let his arms fall to his sides as he stood in the middle of the ice rink. One uncovered his heart, the other his face. He hissed and skated to the exit where Yakov waited. Despite the pleased look on his face, Yuri looked away.

   “You did vell, Yurachka.”

   “I vas pathetic. And zis program sucks! Staying here is a vaste of time.” He took down his skates ignored the shoes Yakov offered him. “I don’t care about the scor. I vant to go back to Russia.”

   Yakov grabbed his arm.

   “YURI!” he kept his grip firm as he moved closer to him and leaned over to talk to his ear.

   “Let me go.”

   Yuri shook Yakov’s grip off of him and walked away. Before any of the journalists could ask him anything, he was already on the way to the changing rooms. He heard Yakov calling him from the behind.

   I von’t need dose anymore.

   He threw the white gloves he wore to the stadium seating. A fan that caught one of them quickly hid it beneath his coat, and another one showed it off to her girlfriends that cheered her luck. Yuri paid no attention to that. His ears didn’t catch any noise as he focused on his thoughts.

   There’s no vay I vill keep performing to this. It barely shovz any of my strengths. I am more than dis.

   He stopped and looked back at Yakov who followed him, but was stopped at the tunnel’s entrance being asked for why Yuri didn’t decide to go to kiss-and-cry.

   I’m going to become an unreachable dream for everyone. Victor and that Japanese piggy can forget it.

   He looked up.

   And Yakov...

   His coach blocked the light coming from the rink as he was still explaining Yuri’s behavior to the journalists.

   He only holds me back.

   He let down his hair and curled down his toes. Cold cement was freezing him to the bone.

   “Maybe it iz time for me to move on,” he said quietly and wrapped arms around himself.

•

   The changing room was quiet. All the skaters were up at the stadium, wondering here the World Champion has gone. Rows of blue lockers silenced what was going on the surface. Yuri put his skates in a big black bag and threw in the costume, before making sure it’s zipped and locked. He shivered before putting on a thick hoodie. It warmed him up, but he still let out a little sneeze.

   What a joke. I live on the ice. I can’t get sick.

   He put out his phone and was about to click the maps app to look for the nearest pharmacy, but his thumb slipped and clicked contacts instead.

   “Hell,” he hissed about to go back, but stopped himself.

   Right on the very top of “favorite” section, name Altin Otabek caught his attention. He starred at it for a moment before pressing it. He jumped hearing a phone ringing right behind him. He turned around.

   Otabek smiled at him, but his eyes were expressionless. To an outsider it looked more like a sneer look than something you would greet a friend with.

   “God, don’t sneak on me like that, you idiot!” Yuri rose his hands and threw down his bag. “What are you doing here?”

   “Decided to watch you perform. Before you went to the ice you looked so focused you didn’t even hear me calling you from the sides.”

   “Ah.” Yuri looked away and sat down, breathing in and out sharply.

   Otabek looked at him for a moment and sat down beside him.

   “Hm.” He scratched the paint covering the bench with his nail. “Why do they always do that to wood? It can’t compare to its natural beauty.”

   Yuri did not answer, so he leaned forward and looked at his face. Tightly closed eyes, small nose and lean cheeks were red contrasting with porcelain skin. He must have wash his face roughly to get rid of the make-up.

   “Are you cold?”

   “No. Stop asking me stupid questions.”

   “Then why did you call me?” Otabek’s voice was flat.

   “Obviously not to talk about white paint and if I’m cold.”

   Kazakh skater sighed deeply. Asking never worked on Yuri, but it didn’t hurt to try from time to time when communication failed for once. He moved closer to make their arms touch. Yuri didn’t move. This time he even leaned on him. A little thing, but Otabek appreciated it.

   It’s been almost a year since they became friends. They didn’t see each other often. Otabek stayed in the home country and Yuri was busy with showing up on special events, talk shows and training trips. It was Yakov’s idea to let him travel more. Changes of environment could strengthen him and get used to being the brightest rising star from the northern sky, but they seemed to have the opposite effect. Yuri lacked space. If he did have some he’d occasionally text Otabek, but calls were rare. He almost forgot the sound of his voice.

   “Let’s get out of here,” Otabek said after a couple of minutes.

   He put his hands in his pockets and got up. Yuri opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling for a moment.

   “Ye,” he answered getting up and picking up his bag.

   “Food?”

   Yuri nodded. “Vatever you vant.”

   Otabek turned around and started going towards the exist. It was for the best he didn’t encourage Yuri to catch up with him. If he wanted to talk he’d really bitch about whatever was bothering him, but instead he walked slightly behind Otabek, just making sure to follow the helmet hung on his arm swaying in the corner of his eye.

   After they arrived at the private part of the underground lot, Otabek showed his identification card to the security guard and passed under the barrier. Yuri walked passed it, still lost in thought, but he looked up at Otabek when he was securing Yuri’s bag.

   “I need to drop by a pharmacy before we eat,” he murmured when Otabek offered him another helmet. “I think I’m getting sick.”

   Otabek put on his own helmet and got on the machine.

   “I can just give you mine. We’re going to my place anyway.”

   “What? Why?” Yuri couldn’t complain more, because the rest was muffled by his hiss and a little squeak when he pinched his finger in the chinstrap’s buckle.

   “You said we can get whatever I want.” Otabek smiled down at him. “I decided to cook myself.”

   Yuri put his finger out of his mouth and looked at him in bewilderment, but a faint smile brightened up his pinkish face.

•

   “I’d never sink someone attending the Grand Prix Finals would rent a house instead of a hotel. You still have the energy to cook yourself?”

   “I like cooking,” Otabek murmured. Cold wind drowned the last syllable as they walked towards a small bungalow, but Yuri still made out what he said. “And I can make the food taste exactly how I want.”

   “Doesn’t it distract you from practice?”

   “Why would it?”

   Yuri didn’t answer.

   A moth circulated around a lamp that automatically lighted up at their arrival. The light was so faint Otabek had to ask Yuri to use his phone’s flashlight on the keyhole. They took of their shoes and walked to the kitchen barefoot. All lights were out, Otabek’s coach was sleeping in his room occasionally snoring every now and then, so Altin closed the door and turned on two lights; above the stove and the counter. Both of them were quiet. Otabek set water to boil in the kettle, put out a cold medicine in a sachet from a bag and then focused on warming up milk after washing his hands in the kitchen sink. Yuri decided to just scrolled down posts on Touchbook.

   Katsuki posted some pictures from practice with Victor. Nothing interesting, just them in an embrace and smiling on the ice. He looked at it for a moment.

   “Have any spare clothes in the bag?” Otabek asked setting a glass of already prepared cold medicine in front of him. The bag lied in complete shadow on one of the chairs next to Yuri. “You could take a shower and get under a blanket.”

   “Tch. I do, but you sound just like my dedushka,” Yuri laughed putting his phone aside. He drank the entire glass in one go. “Eugh! That crap’s awful!”

   “Don’t complain, kid.”

   Otabek chuckled hearing how Yuri was on the edge of boiling over.

   “Hey!” he rose on his hands on the kitchen island. “Who you are calling ‘kid’, prick?! You zink you can can call that a world champion?! How about you show me on the rink what a kid I am, ha?!”

   It was the first time Yuri heard Otabek laugh. A low sound, pleasant, but with his characteristic hoarseness. He stopped screaming and looked at Otabek grabbing the edge of the counter. Without his leather Ramones jacket and black glasses, he looked so much less intimidating. When he finally stopped, he kept a gentle smile while mixing the dough.

   “Where’s de bathroom?” Yuri asked quietly.

   Otabek pointed at a door directly behind Yuri. He reached to his bag and took out a towel and a fresh pair of sweatpants, boxers and the tiger shirt he bought back in Hasetsu. The print was harsher in touch, detaching from the fabric in a couple of places. Yuri frowned and left to the bathroom.

   When he returned Otabek was almost done cooking. A few pieces of flat bread were laid on a white plate with a blue and gold lining. Two small jars of honey and blueberry jam were open and set aside. Grey rivers of steam made their way to the ceiling in meanders before trailing off towards an open window. There was a bag of home delivery services besides the trash can near a cheap fridge, list still attached.

   So Otabek and his coach just order food, instead of shopping, but I can hardly imagine Otabek with groceries on the motorcycle anyway.

   A drop from his wet, blond hair fell onto Yuri’s bare foot. He stopped starring and quickly rubbed it fairly dry, then hung the towel on a chair and put on fresh socks. Then he started eating after putting jam on one of the pieces.

   “Mm!” His eyes widened and his stomach squeezed at the reminder of what food feels like. After just the first bite he started to eat so fast Otabek could barely see the bread on its way to his mouth. He leaned on his hand.

   “Good. You’re enjoying it.”

   Yuri answered something, but it was completely muffled. Otabek passed him a cup of tea and encouraged to drink it. As it wet the food in his mouth, Yuri took a big breath and raised his voice.

   “Vkusnyy!! Vat is dat?”

   Otabek smiled eating his own piece he rolled like a thin pancake standing beside the stove. He didn’t say anything, but Yuri must have been too focused on eating, because he forgot to nag him to give him the name of the dish again. Once Otabek put down the last piece, he turned off the hood vent and sat next to Yuri. He looked at the honey about to drip off his shelpek. It glittered in the warm light and hesitated for a moment before falling onto the counter. Otabek looked at the drop and stopped chewing.

   Why did I hesitate? Why did I not reach for gold, for the dream, just like I’m just sitting here in silence.

   He wet his finger with his tongue and wiped the drop off the table then tasted it.

   It’s like scavenging. Picking up after it already became an easy target.

   Yuri could barely finish his third piece, but once he did after a long struggle, he let out a long yawn and stretched on the chair. Eyelashes slightly covered his eyes as he leaned forward and put his head on his folded arms at the island. He rested like this for a moment. Then he opened his eyes. His sharp gaze made Otabek look back at him.

   “Vat does dream mean to you?”

   “Where did that come from?”

   “Just answer, oke?!” Yuri’s cheeks became red from anger again. A most adorable trait.

   Otabek’s eyes stirred a little bit, but all the cheek muscles and his eyebrows remained in the same spot. How interesting that only recently he’s begun to smile at people, but at last – he actually had a friend he could do it for. He looked away for a moment. Yuri observed him from the curtain of his bangs. Otabek’s face was of a true soldier he once claimed Yuri to be. He was more down to earth, not wasting too much time on philosophy of things in skating. Maybe that was the reason why he couldn’t reach Yuri’s level. His technical perfection was admirable, but that can never be. Yuri found out about it in Hasetsu all that time ago. Maybe it was time to visit the city again.

   “What we see when we sleep, what we want—”

   Yuri cut him off with a wave of his hand.

   He’s still zinking about most basic of definitions. He lacks novelty.

   “And what if you want to become a dream?” he said after a moment of silence. His voice weak for a moment. He shook it off quickly and clasped his fist.

   “Become it?” Otabek frowned.

   Yuri walked away and lied on the sofa, his legs spread comfortably.

   “I can’t be zinking like you.”

   Otabek felt a stir in his chest, but did not make any louder sound than a controlled breath in. He waited for Yuri to explain himself.

   “What Yakov doesn’t get is that I need something more than a fairly challenging program. I need something dangerous. Something that won’t let anyone in the future question my superiority.” He slammed his feet onto the floor again. “I’m more than they let me show!”

   He grit his teeth, warm light drowning in his eyes as his pupil widened.

   Otabek starred at him without a word. What does he see in front of him right now? What made him desire fame so strongly?

   “I’ll go crazy with that won’t stop,” Yuri added his fingers digging into the seat.

   Otabek looked at his own skates standing at the wall between bathroom and the entrance hall. Through the glass on the sides of the front door, he saw a cat run by turning on the motion detection lamp. It was chasing a moth, but once it caught it, it let it go, so it could play some more.

   “Listening to you makes me think I could never win against you. We might not be as similar as I thought. You evolve so quickly it terrifies.” Otabek kept a faint smile on his face, still observing the cat. “But somehow I still can’t get myself to walk away from you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you since the day I saw you for the first time.”

   Yuri looked away from him and stared through the window. Clouds covered the night sky, but streetlights shone in their place. The brightest, blue ones, hurt the eyes of the observer, but no yellow light could ever compare to it.

   Plop! Both of their phones got a notification. Otabek looked at his, after lowering the brightness that previously hit him in the eyes. Yuri completely ignored it.

   People gathered under one of the yellow lamps outside, chatting about the just announced competition results. Their excited voices slipped into the house, but Yuri couldn’t make anything out of them. It didn’t matter to him at the moment. He just kept looking between the yellow and blue lamps. The later, though brighter, seemed avoided. That wasn’t a surprise since it is the blue lights that are the most cursed at while driving, especially when the car coming from opposite direction has them.

   Floor creaked as Otabek stood up.

   “Maybe Yakov thinks you’ll destroy yourself, if you don’t slow down your growth,” he said walking over, his strong posture blocking out the light from Yuri’s body, putting him in deeper and darker shadow with every step he took. “Us, sportsmen, don’t have much time to make name for ourselves. Just like stars in the sky we must burn brightly, ending our lives, just to be noticed.”

   “Den I need to become an explosion.” Yuri smiled, his face full of determination, then added with a chuckle. “Or like dose annoying ass blue lamps.”

   Otabek smiled back at him. “That’s more like you.”

   They looked at each other for a while, then clasped their hands firmly and held them together. Only then Otabek realized how hot Yuri’s skin was. He put his other hand on his forehead.

   “Hey!” Yuri brushed his hand aside. “Vat do you sink you’re doing?”

   “You’ve got a fever. We need to tell Yakov,” Otabek murmured as he looked through contacts on his phone. “I won’t be able to stay here with you tomorrow. I still need to compete in the free skate and make up for finishing in the fourth place.”

   “Ha?” Yuri frowned. “I don’t need dat old man to babysit me.”

   To confirm his words he let out a tiny, sweet sneeze.

[stalkist]

“ don't be coy, iz. i think you know what to do. ” even if she doesn't have any experience, the filth his niece sent him in those messages proves she has some knowledge, some instinct, that can help motivate her. though cruel in ways, reed extends some patience towards the girl, helpfully guiding her palm up and down the bulged outline poking through the fabric of his pants, exhaling and shifting with gratification from this tame sensation alone. continues his own exploration of the blonde's covered mound, pressing as thumb runs up her slit, stopping to steadily massage at the bud at the peak. if he's going to have her here and now, needs to slicken her up first, get her all heated and ready to take him. “ think how good it's going to feel when i'm deep inside you, ” husky words, smiling as he describes the very sick reality they're soon going to share together, “ it's going to hurt when i first break you in but you'll love it in the end. you won't have to pretend you don't want this any more. you can be your sinful little self with me. ”

as if her face couldn't get any redder, izzie feels even more flustered at his praise. reminds her of all the times he's called her it under the ruse of being somebody else. it's a conflict of emotions that has her feeling dizzy. on one side, she feels repulsed, ashamed that she allowed herself to be tricked despite being such a smart girl, scared that it was her uncle this entire time on the other screen. she tries to search her memory for any signs reed had given her over the last few months, but her thoughts stop all at once when he takes a hold of her hand. which brings her to the other side of her thoughts, the one that burns a desire for being touched, the excitement of feeling things that didn't come from her computer or books or even her own two hands. younger whimpers out a choked gasp as his fingers press against her clothed cunt, an instinctive twitch of her thighs. "i - i guess..." izzie murmurs, gaze dropping to the hand he had placed on his lap, feeling him beneath her palm. "i don't know what to do." she sniffles, pressing down awkwardly against his length.

[iznsfw]

Sweet Talking

IZ Days of Christmas: Day 2 - Miyawaki Sakura

LE SSERAFIM's Miyawaki Sakura x Male Reader Smut

1192 words

Categories: dialogue only, dirty talk, mommy kink, masturbation, phone sex

Wanted to try dialogue-only smut. I'm just trying it out so it might be bad. I promise I'll redeem myself with a better Kkura fic.

"Hello?"

"Miss Miyawaki?"

"Oh, is that you, baby boy?"

"You can drop the nicknames. We're here to talk about our investments, remember?"

"Investments? We can talk about that later. All that droning about the stocks and the staff are just so unattractive, hon. Ladies don't like that, you know."

"Look who's talking about unattractive."

"Ha, don't pretend you don't find me hot. Who's the one who begged me to drain your cock in the storage room? Or laid down while I rode you?"

"...."

"That's what I thought. We're here to talk about what I like. Which is—"

"—sex, as usual."

"Smart boy. I was thinking about you all day here. Was so upset you couldn't come since you were sick, so I thought to call you."

"How kind of you, Sakura, but I don't need you right now. I'm gonna hang up now and take my medications. Goodbye."

"Wait, wait!"

"What? This better be good."

"I need your help."

"With what? Eunbi can help you with the files."

"No! I'm still so wet from thinking about that time you first fucked me. God, you looked so hot panting like that. Mmm, I'm so wet."

"Sakura—"

"I want you to help me get off. I need it."

"W-what do I get in exchange for it?"

"Mmm, I'll, hah, take over your work duties. Do the accounting and all. Please just help me get off, please."

"Wow, mommy's begging? That's new. You must be really desperate, mommy, to have you beg your baby boy to get you off."

"Hnn, yes I am."

"Just imagine it's my cock prodding at your pussy instead of your fingers. It'd feel much bigger, right, and so much better? It would stretch you out so well. And you'd become so wet that you just beg and beg for more? For more cock stuffed down in your cunt, for me to go faster?"

"Ohh fuck. I need you so bad, baby! I—"

"I could hear you touching yourself. Does it feel good? Do you imagine that it's my thick tip running against that tiny clit of yours, making it twitch and pulse?"

"Fuck... yes—"

"—Then I push all of my dick inside you without a warning. And you'd squeeze down so tightly that you drain me too early after just a few minutes. But you don't really mind at all, do you, mommy? You're a slut for your baby's cum, and you'd take it everyday."

"Remember your place, boy. I only like your cock. If anything, you're the one who's a slut for me. I sucked you off once and you couldn't get enough. I'm getting horny just thinking about it."

"That would mean more laundry, mommy, getting those panties soaked."

"Assuming I had any."

"Wow, mommy, you really are so promiscuous."

"You can't blame me, hon. Sometimes I see you at the office with your bulge barely hiding itself, and I get so wet I have to call meetings off. After that I rub my clit in the bathroom, imagining that it's your cock who's doing it."

"Naughty mommy. Are you doing it right now? Rubbing your clit crazy to get off to my voice?"

"Yes, yes, fuck! I'm too... ffuh... sensitive. Your deep voice sounds too hot."

"Well then imagine this, mommy. I go over there and fuck you like the good boy I am, then cum all over you, ruining your work clothes. I'd ejaculate all over that pale, pretty skin you have, and you'll lick it all off. Because you love my cum, don't you, mommy? If it were up to you, you'd even go to work with your cumstained suit and tie."

"And I thought you cared about laundry. I don't mind though. But I wouldn't let you cum anywhere but inside me. I'll take all of it. I'd squeeze down on you until you never let a single drop go wasted. Your cum would be so warm inside me."

"Of course, mommy. Ah, I'm getting so worked up already."

"Same here. Fffuh—my tight walls would feel so good around your dick. They'd pulse and contract as you find my good spots, and my pretty little pussy's gonna squirt so much after it. Just kee pounding me hard and good, then you'll get it."

"Jesus, Sakura."

"Hnghhh... ahh, I feel so full."

"I can hear the sounds from here, mommy. God, your cunt sounds so wet. How many fingers do you have inside of yourself?"

"One... I can't cum too early yet."

"Aw, that's a pity, 'cause I'm going to make you. Put another inside, mommy. Slowly."

"Hahhh, okay. Fuck!"

"You already feel so stretched after two? You should really practice taking them. What will you do when I fuck you again?"

"P-probably cum a little too early."

"That's right, because you love baby boy's cock too much. Now go faster. I will, too."

"Ohhh! Hnnnn..."

"You're going really fast, mommy. Should I tell you to slow down so you can catch up? Can your cute little innie take more?"

"O-of course it can. It can take a few more pounds... mommy can take more."

"I can hear the wet sounds from here. Your slit must be grasping at your fingers so well. What do you think we should do about that?"

"Talk to me... talk to me more."

"Alright. I'll talk to you more. I'll thrust myself inside of you the second we meet. From there, I'll pound you against the wall. I'll line up my cock and let it play with your clit then push all of me inside. You'd feel so full, even with it going in and out. And I'll do it in front of everyone. Yes, even the innocent interns."

"Gah, I love the idea. Don't think poor Minju's gonna like it though."

"Don't mind Minju. You'll be too wrapped up in, or rather, around me. Everyone will see how pink and cute your nipples are as I play with them. You'd let out the prettiest of screams. You're so red, but you want me to keep going, because secretly, you want people to know how much of a subby mommy you get around me."

"Pshh... hah, don't play around. I'm not a fucking submissive little brat like Yena is. I'm still your mommy, remember?"

"Should I stop then? Stop talking to you so you can edge yourself painfully?"

"Wait, no! Talk more to me, please, but not too much. Wouldn't want your throat sore since you're my sick boy."

"Thanks, mommy. But that's what I want for you. After we finish, we can get in the elevator and have you take my cock in your mouth. Make use of that dirty mouth you have."

"Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming! I'm cumming, baby!"

"Get a third finger in there. Pound away until your legs have your cum on them."

"F-fine, okay, b-but it's too good! Too good, please, fuck!"

"Keep at it, mommy. Remember, I have to cum, too, and I'll do it to the sound of your pretty moans."

"Y-yes, please do, baby. And when you're well enough to go to work again, I'll make you do it again."

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 6

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content and language, being sick? overthinking? p being melodramatic Wordcount: 4.4K A/C: was feeling inspired :)) anyway pls be patient with me posting, i'm applying to schools rn!! anyway this went a direction i hadn't planned but... uhh... i have no excuses i was going with the flow. anyway enjoy x (also what a scare yesterday just hoping p is doing fine and i'm sure everything's okay!)

-

Before London

You need a ride to work tmr?

I don’t but thank you x

My eyes roam the texts as they had repeatedly since last night, trying to decipher each letter as if some ancient code I couldn’t understand. Is she seriously gonna be like that? Like she wasn’t the one who pulled me in. She kissed me. Why was she taking it out on me now? I don’t got time for this anyway, to be stressing about something like this. 

I hadn’t seen Izara since Saturday, not at work, not in the apartment building, hell, I’d even gone to the gym every morning praying that she might show up but it was as if the girl had disappeared from the face of the earth. I knew she was avoiding me, and I guess she had reason but fuck, I thought she’d be better than that. Not a word since Saturday, other than those strange cryptic texts. Fine. Be that way.

“My favourite girls!!” Trey’s voice blatantly interjects my spinning thoughts as me, Arike, Satou and Lou are sat at a circular table, eating lunch. Not that I had been eating per say, more so poking my fork here and there trying to stomach a piece of chicken now and then. The heaviness in the pit of my stomach made it hard to eat at all.

I lift my eyes, hoping Izara would be trailing behind the man as usual. But it’s Ava instead, holding a notepad and taking quick steps to keep up. I mean I knew it wasn’t Iz before even looking up - there was an uncomfortable void of heels tapping against the hardwood as the pair approach us eagerly.

“Oh hey!” Lou smiles from her chair next to me. “What’s up?”

“So we were thinking,” Trey starts, leaning forward against the table. “If y’all could film some clips answering comments on your own since our dear Zari isn’t here.”

“Uh, where is she anyway?” I ask as casually as I can - though the way everyone’s heads snap to me tells me it was a feeble attempt.

Trey’s dark brown eyes study me for a while with an expression I can’t quite read before answering. “She’s home sick, poor girl.”

Bullshit. She’s trying to avoid me, I know it. I can’t believe it, I thought she would be more mature than this, than faking being “sick” just to get away from an awkward conversation with me. Why was she assuming how I felt anyway? Like the kiss mattered to me? Like I’d want more?

I mean all that was true. God did it matter and God did I want, no, need more. Much more. But she didn’t know that, so why was she assuming. I thought we were friends. You know what this is? Bad friendship.

“Oh damn, hope she feels better,” Arike answers for me, noticing the way I’m gone in my thoughts.

“Y-yeah for sure,” I mumble, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’mma go to the weight room.”

I place the fork down on my half eaten plate harshly, getting up abruptly making my irritation quite clear to everyone around me.

“Paige you gotta eat a little more,” Lou encourages but I shake my head.

“Nah, m’ not hungry,” I murmur and take my plate back, preparing to take out my aggravation at some weights, ignoring the way Arike and the rest of the girls eye me as I walk away.

-

“So how are we feeling about the first game soon?” My dad’s voice echoes through the speaker but I barely hear him, pacing my apartment’s living room. Truthfully I hadn’t thought much about the upcoming game. I knew that was bad. That I should be ecstatic, or scared as hell, but I didn’t feel anything else besides the dread of what happened between me and Iz. 

Matter of fact, I hadn’t been able to think of anything else but the way she looked all night, the way her green smoked out eyes twinkled at me, the way she threw her head back when she laughed at my jokes, when she pressed her front against me. The way her full breasts felt against my chest, the way her round ass felt under my hands. God, the whimper she let out when I squeezed it as gently as I could.

“Paige?”

“Uh what?” I mumble, ears burning, completely forgotten about the call with my dad.

“What’s going on with you?” His secure, steady voice asks, grounding me.

“Nothin’ dad,” I murmur, rubbing my eyes and looking out the window into the street, eyeing every dark haired woman just in case they were Izara.

“Paige Madison.”

I groan. I might be 23-years-old but my dad’s stern voice turns me into a teenager without fail each time.

“You’re comin’ to the first game still, right?”

“Yes, of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Why?”

“Nothin’, just miss you,” I mumble, coming up with an excuse for my low mood - though it wasn’t far off. Everytime I felt sad or anxious I just wanted my dad.

“I miss you too, kid. You know you just say the word and I’m there, okay?”

“No I know, I know. I’m just tired I think,” I sigh, my chest warming at my dad’s comforting words.

“Uh oh,” he starts. “Paige Madison… Don’t tell me.”

“Huh? Tell you what?”

“Is this about a girl?” He asks.

I pause, coming to a halt with my pacing. “Hu- I- What?!”

“You always say “I’m just tired” when you got a girl on your mind,” my dad laughs, doing a horrible impression of me.

“No!” I argue a little too fast and a little too passionately. “I mean, no. Just tired. Long practice.”

“Mhm alright,” my dad mumbles, an amused tone in his voice that irritates me in a way only a parent could. “So no girl?”

“No dadddd,” I whine like a teenage girl. “There’s no girl.”

I didn’t like lying to him. I wanted to tell him all about Izara. I knew my dad would adore that girl. He always said I needed a woman to keep me in check - Izzie did just that. But I also didn’t want to tell my dad about this girl knowing it likely wasn’t going to go anywhere, especially now that she had been hiding from me since our kiss.

“Okay dad tell Drew I said hi and I’ll play Fortnite with him tomorrow,” I say into the phone, ready to hang up.

“Okay kid, love you.”

“Love you dad.”

The silence is deafening, again. Like it used to be before I became friends with Iz. I felt alone, anxious, my head spinning with thoughts I couldn’t turn off. I thought she was mature enough to handle this like two adults. If she just wanted to be friends then she could just tell me, at least we could continue our friendship like that.

But usually when I kissed a girl, they didn’t run away like this. Quite the opposite. Did she not like the way I kissed? Was I off my game? Maybe the tongue was too much? Maybe she didn’t like my outfit. I’m a good kisser, I know I am. Good enough to get girls into bed with ease. So what is the trouble now? And I also know that that was the best kiss I had ever had. That our lips fit together just right. Fuck this girl had me going out of my mind. And now I just had to wait for her to reach out, it didn’t feel fair.

No. It wasn’t fair. Why did I have to wait for her? Who said I had to? Fuck that.

Too frenzied to even throw a shirt over my sports bra, I walk downstairs determined, knocking on Izara’s door angrily, preparing a speech of everything I’d been thinking the past few days: Look, Izzie, we’re both adults. You clearly think the kiss was a mistake. But avoiding me and acting like this is ridiculous and stupid and we don’t need to be acting like teenage-

“Paige?” 

Izzie opens the door, voice weak and nasally. She’s in a pale pink pyjama set, hair up in a clip and nose red and irritated. She wasn’t lying. Definitely not. She is sick. 

Quick, improvise.

“Uh, hey,” I mumble, my cheeks turning pink, her red eyes staring up at me reminiscent of Saturday night and the moments before our kiss on the balcony. “Trey told me you were sick.”

She chuckles, looking down at her dishevelled appearance and returns her gaze to me. “How did you know,” she jokes. She’s acting like nothing happened between us. How could she act like that? I guess it’s better than if she actually had been avoiding me.

“Was worried, haven’t seen you since… The party,” I say unsurely.

“Uh… Yeah. Crazy party huh,” Izzie says almost to herself. “Well, anyway, thanks for checking in but I’m perfectly okay. Just a cold and I think it’s passing.”

She begins to close the door but I grab it, holding it open.

“You been resting?” I ask concerned.

The girl shrugs. “Well at first but now I’m just getting bored so I’ve been doing some work from home.”

“Izzie…”

“What?”

“You gotta be restin’ if you’re sick,” I argue, which makes the girl roll her eyes.

“I’m fine Paige,” she answers, but I step inside.

“Let me in.”

“No, you’ll get sick,” she complains but I shake my head.

“I won’t. I’m built different.”

Izzie laughs, deciding it was pointless to try to argue and lets me in.

Her apartment is spotless as always, laptop open on her dining table with schedules and notebooks piled next to it. This bitch hadn’t been resting, no she’s been working and cleaning.

“Izzie!” I groan and close the laptop.

“Shoes! Shoes shoes shoes!” She yelps, voice breaking as she does. 

“‘M sorry!” I gasp and take my sneakers off quickly, placing them neatly by the entrance. I feel her eyes fixed on me. 

“Do you ever wear a shirt?” She asks, blowing her stuffy nose, which makes me let out a single laugh.

“Why, you want me to?” I ask confidently, easily falling into the same effortlessness as before.

My words make the girl blush. Perhaps the kiss wasn’t that bad? Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I should just ask… Ask what?! If the kiss was good?! Bro… Get a grip.

“Well you’re going to get cold, it’s freezing here,” she tells me, turning away and walking to the couch where pillows are neatly arranged, an expensive looking blanket neatly folded on the armrest. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it definitely was not cold, that her apartment was scorching hot already making me sweat.

“Yo, you’re kidding right?” I laugh as I watch her somewhat pitifully curling up against the corner of the couch on her single throw pillow.

“What?”

“Iz, you’re sick!”

“Wow, thanks for rubbing it in my face,” she says nasally, blowing her nose again.

“Bro, that pillow is just sad! You need a nest,” I gasp, walking to her bedroom.

“Wait wait wait, it’s a mess in there,” she yelps, following after me. Mess, it is not. There is one hoodie on the bed, which is unmade. That’s it. I pull the heavy blanket off her bed, grabbing all four pillows and walking decisively to the couch with the dark-haired girl on my tail.

“What are you doing?” She asks as I begin to set up each pillow into a nest against the corner of the couch. She’s grabbing my arm and peeking at my actions from behind my back, clearly confused.

“I’m makin’ you a nest,” I explain, brows furrowing as I focus. This is serious business. “My stepmom does this when we’re sick.”

“A nest?” Izzie laughs.

“Yeah, get in,” I order, grabbing the girl’s shoulders and sitting her down. “Now lie back. Get comfy.”

Hesitating for a moment, Izzie curls up against the pillows as I place the blanket over her, watching as she gets comfortable with a smile on her face.

“There you go,” I coo, trying her forehead which is burning hot. “You have a fever Iz, I’m gonna get you some meds.”

“Paige, you don’t have to do this,” she sighs, looking up at me softly. I want to lean down and kiss her again. Instead, I bring my hand to her warm cheek, stroking it softly. She looks vulnerable, gentle for once. It made me want her even more.

“Lemme take care of you ma.”

She doesn’t comment on the nickname, matter of fact there’s a hint of a smile on her face when she nods. 

“The cabinet above the microwave.”

“Got it,” I tell her, pretty much scurrying to the kitchen, gathering everything you could think - water, painkillers, nose spray, I even cut up some fruit for her. But when I return the poor girl is in her nest, cuddled up, fast asleep. It hurts my heart to wake her up, but she needs these meds in her.

“Iz,” I murmur carefully, brushing dark locks away from her face. She blinks herself awake, rubbing her face. Everything about it makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let anyone close in case they hurt her. 

“Fuck, I fell asleep,” she yawns. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”

“You’re sick ma,” I remind her, sitting next to the girl on the couch and watching as she takes her medicine.

“This is so embarrassing,” she murmurs, sipping on the glass of water. Her cheeks are bright red, hair undone and eyes tired - I swear it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her look.

“Izara,” I say sternly. “You’re sick, lemme help.”

“You’re gonna get sick too, and you have your first game soon love.”

“I’ll be fine, I got mad immune system powers.”

She giggles. “Immune system powers?”

“You heard,” I nod, fighting a grin. She coughs a little.

“Paige?”

Oh God. She’s gonna bring up the kiss now. I know it. I can feel it.

“Y-yeah?”

She takes a deep breath. “Can we watch Lady and The Tramp?”

-

“How are you already crying?” Paige asks with a giggle, leaning against the opposite corner of the couch. 

“Lady as a puppy always makes me cry! How could it not?” I sniffle, wiping my nose, watching the scene where Lady doesn’t want to sleep in her dog bed, the poor puppy crying for her dad. 

The blonde is chewing on an apple in her sports bra and black Nike sweats, muscles grown more prominent over her training period with the Wings, arms bigger, shoulders wider, outline of the muscles on her abdomen faintly visible even as she slouches. 

“What kinda names are Darling and Jimmy Dear anyway?” She asks, dramatically frustrated.

“Paige, you’re slow,” I laugh. “Lady thinks those are their names because they call each other those as like, pet names darling.”

The blond thinks for a while, and then grins. “Oh.”

We both burst into a choir of laughter, though it feels rough against my scratchy throat. Still, I could feel the medication already making me feel better. Or maybe it was the company.

My mind had been a mess after I escaped the party. I felt embarrassed, childish even for running away like I did, leaving Paige high and dry. Once I woke up the next morning it was hard to figure out what truly happened and what was my mind playing tricks on me. But I knew the kiss really took place the moment I remembered it, the weight of Paige’s kiss a mere memory on my lips. One wouldn’t forget a kiss like that. It was impossible.

Getting sick had been a lucky coincidence, giving me time to think and take some distance from the situation. I found it impossible to figure out where my desire for Paige and desire for physical contact differed. I couldn’t tell if I was just lonely. Or if I really liked her. I never considered it, me having feelings (if you could call it that) for a girl again. But now as she sat there, looking like that, I wanted nothing but to get on her. To climb onto her lap and kiss her again like we had on the balcony. Without the drunken hue, just us feeling each other.

Even as sick as I am, the familiar burn and ache that always showed up around the blonde begins to grow between my legs, making me squirm. Fuck, maybe I did like her. All I knew I definitely wasn’t in a place to start anything - that no matter what this was it would have to stay casual. I haven’t gotten rid of the ghost of my past relationship. No, not at all. I could see it looming around every corner, peeking through windows, just right outside my line of vision. I wasn’t ready.

Paige’s hand comes over to my bare feet poking out of the blanket, bringing them to her lap and beginning to rub them almost as if subconsciously, like unaware of the entire thing. Except her cheeks turn red as she does. My entire body relaxes, and I let her. For almost half of the movie she massages each toe, the arch of my foot, my ankle, leaving goosebumps everywhere. 

“I’m cold,” I complain, pulling my feet back under the blanket, feeling like a block of ice.

“I’m so hot,” Paige groans, now more invested in the movie, making small comments here and there.

“Lucky,” I groan which makes her snicker.

“Scooch,” The blonde tells me. Before I can resist she’s made her way under the blanket, into the nest, lying behind me and wrapping an arm around my waist. I fit in her arms perfectly, like I was made to be her counterpart, born to be in her arms like this, every curve of her body slotting with mine just right. My ass pressing into her, the blonde’s chin brushing against my shoulder, hot breath tickling against my ear nearly making me moan. Fuck.

“I- I thought you were hot,” I mumble, beginning to lose my composure.

“But you’re cold,” she murmurs into my ear, nose nuzzling into my hair as we keep watching the movie. Though I can’t concentrate. Even on my favourite movie. My head spinning too fast, speeding up even more when my pyjama top hikes up and Paige’s fingertips rub circles against my lower stomach, dangerously close to dipping into my pyjama pants.

“P-paige,” I almost whisper, my voice coming out breathy.

“Mhm?” The blonde’s voice is shaky too, a hoarse hum straight into my ear making me even wetter than I already am.

“You’re gonna get sick,” I remind her, my chest heaving.

“I’m good,” she breathes out, shifting a little, her head fitting just in the crook of my neck. Perfectly. “Are you?”

She’s asking for consent, I can tell. To dip her fingers underneath the band, to slide them into my panties. And God I want to give it to her. To let her have her way with me. The temptation is growing nearly impossible to resist.

“I-” I nearly say it. But then I shift to my back, to meet her gaze. Paige’s face is flushed, nostrils flaring as she breathes, hand remaining on my bare stomach. “How are you feeling about the game?”

“Oh, uhh,” Paige is taken aback, pulling her hand back to my dismay, bringing it to her jaw and rubbing it. “I mean, I haven’t really thought about it if I’m honest? I’m excited to see my dad and Dorka.”

“She went to Uconn with you, right?”

The blonde nods. “I mean issa big moment for sure, but I just wanna take it one day at a time.”

I hesitate. “Are you not nervous at all?”

She lets out a single laugh and looks around the room. “Nah I am. Just tryna keep my mind off it.”

I nod, understanding. I wish I could carry some of her worry, I could tell she was more nervous than she let on. But instead of talking I slide my hand into hers, which seems to comfort the girl more than words, her blue eyes locking with mine. She’s thinking, mulling something over in her head. I can tell.

“The party… Iz, I-”

“Shh,” I tell her before she can keep going, my throat going dry, the ache between my thighs nearly painful. I wasn’t ready to talk, at all. All I wanted was to feel it again, the weight of her lips on mine. So bad I felt dizzy.

“Nah, Izzie, c’mon. I think we both feel we-”

“Paige?”

“Yeah mama?”

“Kiss me.”

-

It makes no sense. But I don’t hesitate. Leaning down, my lips crashing into hers with such hunger it makes me uncharacteristically whine. My body is on fire, every inch burning up as our lips slide against one another, boxers growing damp quickly. My hand carefully holds her cheek, like the girl next to me might break. But to my surprise she pulls me on top of her by the back of my head.

I’m tasting for every inch of her, slowing down and taking my time, unlike that drunken mess on the balcony. Somehow this is even better, the kiss of the century even. Her body is cool to the touch, a sign of the fever going down. But I barely register, kissing her bottom lip affectionately, my hands holding her face. Izzie responds, her teeth pulling on my lip harshly making me groan. Her warm tongue brushes over it, soothingly.

I open my mouth further, my tongue meeting hers, other hand moving to the bare waist of the girl underneath me. I can’t believe this is real. That I’m kissing Izara. It feels like some type of dream, but the ache between my legs proves that every second is real. That she’s really underneath me. And If I’m feeling my core throbbing just from the kiss, I’m certain the dark haired girl feels something similar and the idea of my girl feeling such pain and not having it taken care of breaks my heart.

So my thumb dips underneath the band of her satin pyjama pants, feeling the lace of her underwear as it does. Zari lets out a shaky whimper, her eyes fluttering open.

“Paige,” she whines, brows furrowing.

“Yeah?” I ask breathlessly, leaning down to kiss under her ear which makes her squirm under my weight.

“C-can you keep your hands,” another moan as I suck on her neck, careful not to leave a mark. Izara didn’t seem like the type of woman you marked. “On top of the clothes.”

God she’s gonna be the death of me. But I oblige happily, pulling my hand back to her bare waist.

“Whatever you want Izzie,” I say between ragged breaths, making the girl moan as I keep kissing her neck. Izara’s hands wrap around my back, long acrylics scratching at the skin there.

“Shit,” I cuss under my breath, feeling like I might die or cum in my pants if I don’t get to have her. Still, I keep kissing her, fully aware what a privilege it was just to be on her like this. I do everything to try to stay composed, to keep my cool, to focus on putting on my best show as I return back to sloppily kissing her lips, shifting on top of her, my other hand beside Izzie’s face to hold me up. 

As I move my hips, my knee presses into her core, against the sheer fabric of the pajamas making her gasp straight into my mouth. I repeat the movement with purpose now, and can feel the heat radiating off her, the fabric between her legs growing damp. She wants this just as bad as I do.

“Lemme keep going, please,” I whimper, brows furrowed and barely conscious of what is happening at this point. “Lemme help ma, won’t even touch you.”

Her face is contorted with need, chest heaving desperately. 

“It hurts don’t it? Lemme help,” I coo, my lips wrapping around her earlobe and sucking softly. “Please.”

“Paige,” she whimpers, her body shaking with need. But I feel her shift, legs wrapping around my body. “Please.”

Oh God, I might actually cum in my sweats.

I kiss her all over, her neck, bare shoulders, mind spinning with need, my cunt growing wetter and wetter with every moan that leaves Izzie’s lips as I push my knee against her core, gently, so as to not hurt her.

“P-paige,” she moans my name. My name. 

“Ohh fuck,” I cuss, squeezing my eyes shut at the way her voice sounds, deep and gravelly, turning more high-pitched each time I grind my knee into her cunt.

“Let me get you right ma, please,” I beg breathlessly, shaking my head to myself trying to keep myself present. “Please, Iz, would do anything to fuck you,”

She’s speechless, whimpering desperately, but I can feel her muscles turning tense from the pleasure I’m giving her, legs shaking gently.

“Would be so good, just lemme eat that pussy,” I moan into her ear. “Gimme five.”

Pulling back, I meet her gaze. Her contorted face, dark brows furrowed and lips parted, green eyes blown out black. This is the most beautiful she has ever looked. Easily. Could look at her like this forever.

I can tell she’s considering, mulling it over in her head. Just as her lips part the ring of her phone interrupts the moment, the obnoxious sound blaring over the movie playing in the back. Of course. I can never have anything good. Just little tastes.

“Fuck,” Izzie mumbles and abruptly sits up as if suddenly thinking clearly. I climb off her, watching as she fumbles to find her phone.

“Here,” I catch it, handing it to her. It’s Kiran, her brother.

“Fuck, I promised I’d help him with his paper,” she groans, still trying to catch her breath.

“Uh, okay,” I murmur, attempting to catch mine, awkwardly shifting further on the couch, watching as the girl gets up and walks into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, leaving me there once again. Wanting more.

-

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @pb524830 @bueckersfive @lupinqs @sierrale8ne @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers

[duffslut]

Take care

Izzy stradlin x Reader

My Masterlist.

Word Count: 337

Requested by anon: hiii I really like what you wrote about duff taking care of his sick girlfriend, could you do one with izzy as well, please?

Warnings: Fluff!

Izzy's fingers were in your mouth, he was going little by little deeper until he touched your throat. You threw up again, feeling your knee that touched the cold bathroom floor weaken as you expelled all the food you had eaten during the day out of your body in the worst possible way.

You let your body fall back when it was over, your body felt like it was going to shut down at any moment and you would pass out.

- I- I'm sorry. - you whimpered in a weak voice, feeling your throat hurt and your head spinning.

Izzy left a peck on the back of your neck and stroked your hair.

- Don't talk, it will hurt more. - Izzy helped you up off the floor and took off your shirt and pants.

The water in the bathtub was already lukewarm, and Izzy guided you to it.

- I hate to see you like that my princess. - Izzy whispered and you almost cried as you got into the hot, relaxing bath.

He helped you wet your head and your hair, filling a small bowl with water and carefully pouring it over you and your body. You didn't say a word while Izzy took care of you, but you sure felt better when he wrapped the white towel around your body and helped you walk to the bedroom.

You sniffled while Izzy dried your body.

- You're unbelievable. - You gave a low, muffled laugh - How did I find you?

Izzy kissed your feet before putting a slipper on them, and then looked at you.

- You didn't find me. -Izzy got up, and sat next to you on the bed. - I found you, and I'm lucky for that.

You stared at him, taking in every detail of his perfect face, his almond eyes, his soft pink lips, and his nose ring.

- Are you lucky? - you asked.

Izzy smirked.

- I am. - he said. - It's an honor to help you puke. - he gave you a peck and you pushed him away, laughing.

- Thank you, Iz.

[fxckin-blackbeard]

ᒥ☠ᒧ—        Edward can only scoff at Izzy's initial words, and to show how little he cared he takes another toke of his pipe and blows the smoke from his nostrils, all while staring at the other man. "Either I smoke, or I lose my god damn mind. Your pick." From the stench of the smoke filling the room, it wasn't just tobaccos he was smoking. Usually he smoked intoxicating herbs to soothe his knee pain, but it wasn't uncommon he indulged for a bit of fun. And with the insane boredom he felt, he needed them to keep himself in check.

There was many ways Edward could entertain himself, but far too often than not they were disruptive and destructive, and not just to himself. "What the fuck is there to do? Plan another raid that doesn't even require me to be on deck? Dick fuck, Iz." He was irritated, even with the herbs he was smoking, and poor Izzy would be getting the grunt of it.

"...It's so fuckin' boring, I'm gonna lose it. Really, mate. I'm ready to set this whole fuckin' ship on fire or somethin' crazy." That could come across as an exaggeration, but with Edward's past antic it most likely wasn't.

"I'm just as sick of sittin' in the cabin as you are seein' me in here, I need somethin' soon or I'm losing it." Edward pushes himself up out of his seat, moving towards the window. "We needa do something real crazy," Real exciting, something to keep the Mad Devil Pyrate placated just a little longer. "Somethin' fuckin' fun and unexpected--Original! I'm tired of doing the same ole shit over and over again."

Even Israel could admit things had gotten a bit stagnant. However, in order to just fucking survive they needed to raid, pillage, and plunder. Plus they had a reputation to uphold. “Blackbeard” was the culmination of two individuals; the tactician that was Edward, the bloodthirsty swordsman that was Izzy. They were a package deal. At least it’s what he told himself. Both of them were so fucking codependent it was unreal.

“ You know you’ve been sitting in here for five days straight smoking that bloody pipe of yours, don’t you? “ Perfectly said like an annoyed or exhausted wife as he moved within the cabin and looked at his captain that seemed.. “ You’re listless. Like a ship that has no wind. “

His arms uncrossed as he moved to take a seat before him without asking permission. Wasn’t like he wasn’t bored as hell as well. People just gave up these days, it wasn’t really a challenge anymore. His eyes drifted to the flames of one of the many candles lit on his desk, slowly sliding his fingers into the fire as he felt that delicious burn. Izzy might have been a masochist, but sometimes he just burned himself so he could see if he was still alive. Funny that. He could feel his skin hearing through his callouses. They’d grown so thick from all the times he did precisely this.

His eyes trained on the dancing flame, his face not even presenting a grimace as he set his digits on fire, he spoke again. “ We need to do something. “

[omoghouls]

Okay but imagine the sky is looking dark and Buttons got word from the dolphins that a storm is coming so Stede sends Izzy down to the captains quarters and tells him to just bunker down. Izzy doesn’t even argue but he’s a little miffed when his private “don’t get sick and cry in front of everyone in a dip” party is interrupted by Stede and Ed who decide the best place to hold him is between them in the bed while the rain is battering the windows and the boat keeps sinking down and bouncing back up with the waves. Even worse when Ed starts poking fun like “bet you’re glad you’ve got that padding, Iz. Do you think the crew will notice how much laundry you have?” Knowing damn well he’s in the same position, he just slips his in with Izzy’s so the crew won’t suspect anything (they know)

Omfg "the dolphins tell Buttons" At this point, I'm very sure Buttons is the mermaid of the crew😂

But omg yess?? As decent as a crewmate Izzy is, when a storms a brewing, it's better for everyone to have Izzy bunker down (mostly beneficial for Izzy because he can fuking deal with another round of "Izzy the Spewer" taunts xD) but pff- Izzy grumbles about being squished between the two captain's but, the swordsman isn't making ANY movements to get out (bc/ he's so fuking touch starved especially during a nasty storm-)

And ED OMG U BULLLLY 😂 Stede tries to chastise Ed for poking fun at Izzy being like, "Ed, love, you are in no position to taunt Mr.Hands, now are you?" As he like, pats over Ed's lower stomach. Which makes Izzy smirk when he sees Ed get flustered for a moment xD

But oh you know the crew knows. Especially since, Izzy's are just, fairly plain and to the point. Whereas Ed's have nice fabric/patterns over the cover, but, they just don't mention it around Ed😂

[irradiatedsnakes]

Also, I really love your arts and I'm zadr shipper, but not only zadr shipper. When art don't have romance then it's not romance, I know that. I also like zadf and zade, not looking and these as a romance. So it makes me sad when I see "zadr shippers dni" because I just wated support great artist and enjoy iz content :(

i’m deleting the other asks in my inbox abt all this since i’m really sick to death of it and i don’t want to endlessly debate stuff i’ve (and other have) already said over and over, everything that could possibly be debated here has already been said a thousand times over and i have no desire to say it again.

i don’t care if you also like zadf and zade in addition to zadr, that literally has no effect on whether you ship zadr or not. you still ship zadr, i still don’t want you to interact with my content.

dib is canonically twelve. zim is canonically many times older than that. in the third fucking episode he says he’s “been flying spaceships since before [dib was] born”. in tak’s episode, there is a flashback to 50 years prior, in which zim (and tak, for that matter) is still visibly the same/an adult. in multiple interviews and commentaries going back to the very beginning of the show jhonen’s called zim an old man (the idea that he’s a teenager/child in irken years is an unsourced fan-fabrication, jhonen never said such a thing. it wouldn’t make sense in canon, anyways- zim’s a soldier and the same age as the tallest. it wouldn’t make sense for him to be a child at all.). it is fucked up to ship them because one is an adult and one is a child. end of sentence. end of story.

the only way you could change that conclusion is if you proved zim is a child, which both canon evidence within the show and word-of-god statements have conclusively debunked.

i really wish people would stop bringing up things like “jhonen supported zim/gaz at some point” (jhonen doing something doesn’t make it not fucked up?) or “zim acted romantically towards tak in the beginning of tthng” (he wasn’t actually romantically interested in her, he was gathering information. did we watch the same episode?) because no point i’ve seen has ever had any bearing on the fact that dib is a child and zim is an adult, therefore content of them involved romantically is fucked up.

if you do ship them, i’d ask you to take a good look at why you do, and why you feel the need to keep doing so despite knowing the immense, unhealthy, pedophilic age gap. recognize how online sexual predators regularly use content of ships like that to groom minors into thinking such interactions are okay. why is this ship so important to you? is it worth it to ship it, knowing that content of it and similar things does genuinely hurt people? (i really don’t think it is. it’s just a ship. you can drop it. it’s not that important.)

i don’t care if it makes you sad that i don’t want zadr shippers to interact with my content. it’s really not that hard to respect my wishes on that and ignore me. please just block me so you don’t see my posts anymore.

(please don’t reblog or reply to this trying to argue. i’m not interested, and i won’t debate this any longer. just block and move on, because if you do try to start a debate, i’ll just block you.)