#it's just muscle memory at this point lol

[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART SIX ♡

paige x azzi

warning: explicit language, sexual content

word count: 11.3k

A/N: Alright so this is long as hell 😭. Like I was saying earlier the spicy scene is a little detailed so be prepared for that. If you recognize the outfits I mentioned for their date you know they both looked good as hell in them lol. The comments and live reactions everyone leaves after they read makes my day so please keep it up!

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 December 2023 

Paige and Azzi had spent the last few weeks navigating the complexities of their new dynamic. It wasn’t exactly a smooth transition, but it wasn’t a complete disaster either. Their conversations, jokes, and banter came back effortlessly, as though no time had passed. But, now there was an added layer of tension in each interaction that they both struggled to ignore. 

They had crossed the line, and the memory of it lingered on both of their minds constantly. Laying in one another’s beds all the time or sharing a quick or playful touch carried a tension that hadn’t been there before Halloween. So they were both trying to find their footing in this uncharted territory. 

Despite the fact that they both clearly wanted to go there again, they agreed they needed to take time to fully trust one another and build their foundation before jumping into something. Paige had to learn to trust that Azzi wasn’t going to just up and leave, she had to learn how to allow herself to be with someone. Azzi had to trust that Paige was genuinely in it for the long haul, not the old Paige who would get bored and discard her like a fleeting hookup. The agreement seemed reasonable, even necessary. But despite their best intentions, they found themselves slipping up all the time. 

One of the first times happened after practice. They were lounging casually in Paige’s room, a routine born out of habit and comfort because Paige swore her bed was more comfortable. Azzi’s leg was thrown over Paige’s as Paige sat up, massaging out the lingering soreness from the last road game. Azzi’s old injury from her time at UMD still had a way of acting up sometimes, and Paige, being a good ‘teammate,’ insisted on helping every time.

“I still don’t get how this keeps happening,” Paige said, pressing her thumbs into the muscle just above Azzi’s knee. Her brow slightly furrowed in concentration as she continued to apply firm pressure. “You’ve been so good with your recovery lately.”

Azzi shrugged lightly, her head resting back against the headboard. “Guess my body didn’t get the memo about the long plane ride.”

Paige huffed a small laugh. “Well, lucky for you, I’m basically a pro at this now.” Her hands worked skillfully over Azzi’s leg, her fingers kneading the muscle with a mix of care and precision.

Azzi let out a quiet hum of appreciation. “Mm. You are really good at this.”

Paige smirked, her eyes flicking up to meet Azzi’s briefly. “I’m just good with my hands,” she replied smoothly, her tone teasing but carrying a hint of pride.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Yeah trust me I remember.”

The words lingered between them, heavy just as Azzi intended. Paige kept her focus on Azzi’s leg, but the silence spoke volumes, the air between them a little thick with tension.

Azzi broke it first, her voice soft but pointed. “You tense up every time I hint at us having sex, you know.”

Paige blinked, her hands faltering for a moment before continuing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said, feigning confusion.

Azzi’s gaze stayed steady. “You know what I’m talking about.” Her tone was light, but there was a seriousness beneath it.

Paige swallowed hard, her hands resuming their work as she focused intently on Azzi’s knee which was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “You’re imagining things,” she muttered. “Maybe one of those dreams of yours was too detailed Az.”

Azzi chuckled softly, tilting her head to the side as she studied Paige. “Am I?” she asked, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “Because I seem to remember you were very, very thorough.”

Paige, usually brimming with confidence that bordered on cocky, faltered slightly, her usual composure slipping. “You’re insane,” she muttered, shaking her head, though a faint flush crept up her neck.

Azzi’s lips curved into a smirk as she leaned back against the headboard, completely at ease. “Right. My mistake,” she said smoothly, her eyes locking with Paige’s deliberately. Her voice dropped slightly, taking on a warmth that sent a shiver down Paige’s spine. “But seriously though, don’t stop. It feels so good.”

Clearing her throat, Paige tried to play it off. “You’re crazy,” she muttered, focusing her attention back on Azzi’s knee.

“You started it,” Azzi countered, her voice light but tinged with something Paige couldn’t place.

Paige let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Fair enough.” She adjusted her grip, her thumbs pressing into a particularly tight spot.

The sound that escaped Azzi was too close to something Paige had heard in an entirely different context. The sound sent a jolt through her, and she froze for a moment, her hands stilling against Azzi’s leg.

Paige glanced up, her pupils now slightly dilated as her eyes locked onto Azzi’s. The look Azzi gave her was steady, unflinching, but there was something in it that made Paige’s pulse quicken. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, and quickly looked away.

“I, uh… I need water,” Paige mumbled, already shifting Azzi’s leg to stand.

Before she could move, Azzi’s hand reached out, wrapping gently around her wrist. “Wait,” Azzi said softly, her tone was calm but insistent.

Paige hesitated, her gaze flicking to where Azzi’s fingers held her. She could feel the warmth of Azzi’s touch, the quiet undeniable firmness in the gesture. Slowly, Paige looked back at her, her expression slightly guarded.

“Azzi…” Paige said, her voice low, her tone almost a warning.

Azzi didn’t let go. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studied Paige’s face. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?” Paige asked, the slight waver in her voice betraying her.

“Run,” Azzi said simply, her voice steady but laced with meaning. “Every time things get… interesting…you find an excuse to leave.”

Paige blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “I’m not running,” she protested weakly, though even she didn’t believe the words.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Then stay.”

The challenge in Azzi’s voice was clear, and it made Paige’s stomach flip. She opened her mouth to respond but found she didn’t have the words.

Azzi’s grip on her wrist tightened slightly, enough to pull Paige forward, closer to her on the bed. Paige could see the resolve in her eyes, the quiet determination that didn’t really leave room for disagreement. Then, without warning, Azzi tugged her closer, closing the distance between them. The moment their lips touched everything seemed to pause. A stillness that made Paige’s heart skip before it began racing. 

So Paige froze at first, her mind running a dozen directions and a dozen scenarios, but then Azzi’s arms wrapped around her neck, tugging her deeper into the kiss as her hands wrapped softly around the nape of her neck. It wasn’t rushed, but it was intense, as if Azzi was pulling her into something that didn’t allow for hesitation. Paige felt the tension in her chest begin to loosen, the heat spreading as instinct took over and her free hand found its way to Azzi’s cheek as she deepened the kiss.

For a moment, everything else fell away—the doubts, the fears, all the questions. All that mattered was the way Azzi’s lips felt against hers, the way their bodies seemed to gravitate towards one another so naturally.

But as their bodies pressed closer and the kiss deepend, something in Paige stirred, so she broke the kiss softly pulling back just enough to catch her breath much to Azzi’s protest. 

Paige’s voice was barely a whisper as she murmured, “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, eyes searching Paige's face. “Why not?”

Paige shook her head, feeling the way her mind was racing. “We’re not ready yet Az.”

Azzi furrowed her brow. “Why can’t we just let things happen naturally? We’re in a good place, aren’t we? I’m fine, P I promise.”

Without a word, Paige reached over and unlocked her phone and passed it to Azzi. She watched her closely, her expression softening.

Azzi took the phone, her eyes reflecting her confusion. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Go through it,” Paige urged, her voice soft yet insistent.

Azzi hesitated, a knot of doubt forming in her stomach; she wasn’t sure she wanted to see what was behind that request although part of her knew it was absolutely nothing. “I don’t know, Paige…”

Paige’s tone softened, almost pleading. “I swear, there’s nothing in there. It's just... I need you to trust me and see for yourself.” 

Azzi sighed, fighting the anxiety that bubbled inside her. Paige was constantly reassuring her, but part of her still feared what she might find. So with a resigned sigh, Azzi locked the phone again and tossed it gently back to Paige.

“I don’t need to see it, Paige,” Azzi muttered, her voice strained.

Paige's now softly pointing out, “You can’t even go through my phone without being scared, Az. We’re not ready, and I want us to be ready before we go there again.”

Azzi’s eyes dropped to her hands, fingers nervously playing with each other. A wave of sadness washed over her, guilt twisting in her chest. She felt torn—wanting to trust Paige, but something in her held back, unsure, afraid of what she might find. A mix of emotions swirled through her brain making it hard to breathe for a moment.

Paige, sensing the internal struggle, moved closer. She gently grabbed Azzi's jaw, lifting her head until their eyes met. Her voice was soft but firm, the sincerity clear in every word. “It’s okay. We’ll get there. We just need a little more time.”

Azzi nodded silently, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. Paige smiled, her touch gentle as she settled back into her previous position, resuming the soothing massage on Azzi’s knee as the energy in the room slowly shifted back to normal.

…

Then there was today, a few weeks later Paige was leaning casually against the wall waiting for Azzi to get out of class, her backpack slung over one shoulder as she chatted with a girl Azzi didn’t recognize. Azzi was walking toward her, her pace slowing slightly as she took in the sight. Paige’s easy smile, the way she gestured animatedly, and the way the girl was giving Paige her undivided attention—all of it caused something to simmer in Azzi’s chest.

But Azzi didn’t let it show. She schooled her expression into neutrality as she approached, stopping just short of Paige. Paige caught sight of her and broke into a huge smile, her face lighting up effortlessly.

“Hey Azzi” Paige said, her voice casual as she turned to the girl. “Thank you, I appreciate the support!”

The girl nodded, her gaze lingering on Paige for just a second too long before walking away. Azzi’s eyes followed her briefly, her jaw tightening.

As they made their way to Paige’s car, she threw her arm around Azzi’s shoulders the way she always did now when they were walking but the walk was silent. To Paige, it was a comfortable kind of silence, one she didn’t think twice about. For Azzi, it was anything but.

By the time they arrived at their empty suite, Azzi’s frustration had bubbled to the surface at Paige not saying anything. She shut the door behind her with a little more force than necessary and turned to Paige.

“Who was that?” Azzi asked, her tone clipped.

Paige blinked, confused as these were the first words Azzi was saying to her. “Who was who?”

Azzi crossed her arms. “The girl you were talking to.”

Paige shrugged, her expression indifferent. “I don’t know. Some random fan asking about our next game.”

Azzi scoffed, her expression tightening. “A fan, huh? Right. Because you’re always just casually talking to fans.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Paige asked, her confusion evident

Azzi’s voice was sharp, but quieter now, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to say it out loud. “It means I’ve seen how you are with people, Paige. I know how easy it is for you to flirt without even realizing it.”

Paige groaned, throwing her hands up. “Azzi, come on. She was literally asking about the next game. I wasn’t flirting with her.”

Azzi muttered something under her breath, something Paige couldn’t quite catch.

“What?” Paige asked again, her voice growing slightly.

Azzi let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe you weren’t trying to. But she didn’t look like she was asking about the game, Paige.”

Paige huffed, her frustration mounting. “I don’t get it. I didn’t do anything wrong, and you’re acting like I cheated or something!”

Azzi’s jaw clenched, and her voice dropped even further. “I’m not saying that. But it’s hard not to wonder sometimes… to wonder if maybe you’re getting bored.”

Paige froze, her eyebrows knitting together. “Bored? Azzi, what are you talking about?”

Azzi’s gaze fell, and her voice softened, no longer sharp but tinged with vulnerability. “We just haven’t defined anything. And we haven’t… you know… since that first time. I just—sometimes I don’t know where we stand, Paige and I don’t know if us trying to figure this out is enough for you. If us waiting is boring to you.”

Paige blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift. Her frustration tangled with guilt, but she couldn’t find the words to make Azzi feel better. “Azzi…”

Azzi stepped back slightly.. “You’re so used to being wanted by everyone and getting what you want whenever you want it. It’s not like I don’t know that. I just..waiting is a little frustrating and—” She cut herself off, exhaling sharply. “Forget it.”

“Forget it?” Paige repeated, her voice rising slightly. “No, Azzi, don’t do that. Don’t act like this is just on me. I’m here, aren’t I? I’m literally here with you.”

Azzi shook her head, her tone weary now. “I don’t want to argue with you, Paige. Not about this right now, I was just being jealous it’s stupid.”

She turned and started toward her room, but Paige followed her. “No, wait. Don’t walk away.”

Azzi stopped just inside her room, bending over to grab something from her desk. Without looking back, she said lightly, “Seriously, Paige, I don’t want to do this right now. We can talk later.”

Paige’s frustration was boiling over. She hated the weight in Azzi’s voice, hated how the words stuck in her own throat. She didn’t know how to explain herself, how to make Azzi see that there was nothing else—no one else—that mattered to her. That waiting for Azzi didn’t bother her. 

Before she could think twice about it, Paige crossed the room in two quick strides. Without hesitation she grabbed Azi’s arm, softly spinning her around. Before either of them could speak, Paige’s lips crashed against Azzi’s. The kiss was full of frustration, need, and every unspoken word between them. 

For a moment, Azzi froze, caught off guard, but then her body melted into Paige’s. Her hands clenching the fabric of Paige’s shirt pulling her closer as she kissed her back with just as much intensity. The argument dissolved between them, replaced by something much more raw.

Paige pulled Azzi backwards, guiding her with each step. Their lips never parted, each kiss growing deeper and more desperate as each of them let out their frustration at their situation. Paige barely registered the edge of the bed hitting the back of her knees before she fell onto it, Azzi following instantly. Azzi straddled her, her hands gripping Paige’s shirt tightly as their mouths locked in a rhythm that burned away their anger and replaced it with pure desire. 

Paige groaned into Azzi’s mouth as Azzi rolled her hips into Paige’s pressing their bodies closer, the kiss growing heavier with every second. Paige’s hands instinctively wrapped firmly around Azz’s waist, trying to steady herself but pull Azzi closer at the same time. The touch seemed to encourage Azzi who broke from Paige’s lips and began trailing urgent kisses down her neck. 

Paige’s breath hitched, her head tilting back as a shiver ran through her. “Fuck Azzi–” she whispered, her voice caught between a desperate plea and a low moan. 

At the sound of this Azzi froze. Her lips hovered over Paige’s skin, the weight of the moment crashing down on her. Slowly Azzi pulled back, her breathing uneven as she propped herself up slightly with a hand on Paige’s chest, her dark eyes clouded with something indecipherable. 

Paige lay beneath her, her blue eyes dark with pure desire but also something softer—a quiet vulnerability that tugged at Azzi’s chest, that made Azzi want to just say forget it. But Azzi sighed, pressing the bridge of her nose between her fingers before climbing off of Paige entirely.

The abruptness of the movement made Paige sit up on her elbows, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Azzi,” she started, her voice hesitant, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

Azzi shook her head, cutting her off gently. “You don’t need to apologize.”

Paige watched her closely, but her heart clenched when she saw Azzi grab her gym bag. A sudden panic flared within her. Paige scrambled to her feet, her voice pitching higher. “Where are you going?”

Azzi slung the bag over her shoulder, glancing at Paige with a calmness that didn’t match the rising tension in Paige’s chest. “I’m going to the gym.”

Paige’s stomach twisted. Azzi’s response was completely rational, but it didn’t stop the surge of panic that overtook her. She stepped forward, her voice shaky. “Azzi, wait. Please don’t go.”

Azzi’s expression softened already knowing what was going through Paige’s head. “Paige—”

“I’m sorry,” Paige interrupted, her words tumbling out. “I didn’t mean to push—I don’t know why I did that. Just, don’t go. Please.”

Azzi exhaled, the weight of Paige’s fear pressing down on her. “You don’t need to apologize,” she said softly, stepping closer, her voice dripping with warmth. “It’s not what you think. I’m not leaving. I just need to clear my head, okay?

But Paige’s unease was written all over her face. Her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears, her lips parted as if to plead further. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But you’re walking out. You’re just…leaving. And what if–”

Azzi sighed again, cutting her off gently but firmly, before dropping her bag and stepping forward grabbing Paige’s hand. She led her to sit down on the edge of the bed. Azzi knelt in front of her, placing her hands gently on Paige’s knees.

“Paige,” she started, her voice firm but tender. Paige tried to interrupt, shaking her head, but Azzi caught her face in her hands, making her look directly at her.

“Listen to me,” Azzi said, her voice steady. “I’m not leaving. Baby, I promise you, I’m not leaving you.”

Paige’s breath hitched, the emotions swirling in her chest almost too much to bear. “But you’re going to the gym,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “And I–I don’t know, it feels like…like you’re leaving because I messed up, and I–”

“Hey. I’m just going to the gym,” Azzi cut in gently, her thumbs brushing over Paige’s cheeks. “You didn’t mess up. This isn’t about that. We were arguing about something that doesn’t even matter, and I just need a little time to clear my head. That’s all. I don’t want to fight with you, and I don’t want this to spiral. We both just need a little time to settle and calm down.”

Paige blinked, her mind beginning to grasp Azzi’s words. Slowly, she nodded, the realization dawning on her as her breathing steadied. “You promise?”

Azzi smiled softly, letting her hands linger on Paige’s cheeks for a moment whispering “I promise P,” before she pulled back. She slowly stood and grabbed her phone and gym bag again, heading toward the door. But as she reached the threshold, she glanced back at Paige, noticing the way her mind still seemed to race, her unease still faintly visible.

Azzi hesitated for a moment before walking back to her. She bent down in front of Paige again, her brown eyes warm as they met Paige’s. “Paige I promise you I’ll be back. I was being irrational and I just need a little time to think baby.”

Paige nodded again, her lips quirking into the faintest smile at the word ‘baby.’

Then, Azzi leaned in and kissed Paige—softly, gently, with a tenderness that melted away the last of Paige’s fears.

When Azzi pulled back, Paige managed a small smile, her chest feeling a little lighter. “Okay,” she whispered.

Azzi gave her one last reassuring look before standing and heading out, the door clicking softly behind her. This time, when Azzi walked out, Paige didn’t panic. She sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers brushing her lips as she continued to smile faintly.  Her heart settled as her mind finally began to quiet. 

Later that night, Azzi returned to the suite with a steaming bag of Noodles & Company and a shirley temple. The soft glow from the TV lit up Paige’s face as she sat with her legs spread on the couch, her headset slightly askew as she focused on her game of Fortnite yelling about who knows what. When Paige looked up and saw Azzi standing there, her smile was radiant—so pure and full of warmth that Azzi swore she’d never forget it as it made her heart skip a beat. 

“I’m back,” Azzi said softly, holding up the food.

Ice, sprawled on the armchair groaned dramatically, flicking a chip at Azzi. “I see how it is–bring noodles for Paige but nothing for me. Your favorite child”

Azzi laughed, her eyes never leaving Paige. “You can have what I got for myself,” she teased, handing Ice the bottle of water with a smirk.

Ice rolled her eyes. “You’re such a simp.”

Paige chuckled at that, but Azzi didn’t care. With a soft smile, she walked over and plucked Paige’s headset off her head.

“Hey!” Paige protested, reaching for it, but Azzi was already tugging her to her feet.

“Time to take a break,” Azzi said, her voice playful but firm.

“One more game,” Paige whined, her lips jutting into a pout.

Azzi shook her head, laughing. “Nope. My room. Now.”

Paige huffed but followed Azzi willingly, shooting a teasing glance at Ice, who muttered something about third-wheeling and how they never feed their child as they disappeared into Azzi’s room.

Once inside, Azzi set the food on her desk, but Paige crossed her arms, staring her down. “You’re eating some of this,” she insisted.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I brought it for you, you know.”

“And I’m sharing it with you,” Paige said, already opening the box and poking around with a fork. “Sit.”

Azzi chuckled, stepping back and sitting on the bed, leaning back against the pillows with a grin. Paige sat on the bed beside her, the container of noodles in her hand. She held out a forkful of noodles, her gaze locked on Azzi’s as she leaned in a little closer.

“Really?” Azzi asked, amusement flickering in her eyes.

“Really,” Paige replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Azzi sighed but leaned forward, letting Paige feed her. They laughed as Paige made a show of wiping a stray noodle from Azzi’s chin, her touch lingering just a second too long.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You’re not being subtle, you know.”

Paige grinned, giving her a playful shrug. “I’m just making sure you don’t go hungry.”

Azzi laughed softly, her hand brushing over Paige’s, lingering just for a second. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might start getting other ideas about where this night is going.”

Paige's smile widened, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. “Oh, trust me, there’s plenty more where that came from. ”

This statement makes Azzi raise her eyebrow at the blonde sitting in front of her.

Paige just laughs, shaking her head as she takes a bite of her food. “Get your head out of the gutter, we’re watching Kyrie highlights.” 

This immediately makes Azzi groan. 

They continued eating as the quiet settled around them, neither of them noticing how natural it all felt—how their earlier tension had dissolved into something lighter, softer.

As Paige scooped up another bite of noodles and tried to offer it to her, Azzi caught her wrist gently, stopping her. Paige looked at her, confused.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Azzi said softly, her brown eyes filled with admiration.

Paige’s cheeks flushed, her lips twitching into a shy smile. “I think you’re pretty amazing too.”

Azzi leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Paige’s cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”

Paige shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “You deserve the world, Azzi.”

They continued eating, sharing the container of noodles as a comfortable quiet settled between them. Every now and then, Paige would sneak a bite in Azzi’s direction, insisting she eat more despite Azzi’s protests. Paige was adamant, though, grinning as she held out another forkful until Azzi rolled her eyes and relented, letting out a playful sigh of defeat.

When Paige reached for her shirley temple, Azzi playfully made a grab for it, earning a sharp glare and a dramatic clutch of the cup from Paige. “Don’t even think about it this is where I draw the line,” Paige warned, her tone light but firm, causing Azzi to laugh, her head shaking at Paige’s possessiveness over the drink.

The quiet moments stretched between them, filled with warmth and contentment. As Paige leaned back against the headboard, her mind felt unusually calm. The endless worries, the fears that usually gnawed at her, were nowhere to be found. Azzi’s presence anchored her—a steady, quiet reassurance she hadn’t realized she’d needed until now.

Azzi, meanwhile, watched Paige smile and laugh, her heart swelling with an emotion she hadn’t fully allowed herself to feel until now. She could see it in the way Paige looked at her, in the easy way Paige seemed to settle into their shared space. Paige being at home waiting for her. This wasn’t fleeting; it wasn’t temporary. Paige wasn’t going anywhere.

As Paige set the empty container aside, she leaned back against the headboard, a thoughtful look crossing her face. Out of nowhere, she broke the silence. “Let me take you on a date,” she said, her voice casual, as if she were suggesting they go for a walk.

Azzi blinked, slightly caught off guard. “A date?” she repeated, her tone curious, as if needing to clarify what she’d just heard.

“Yeah,” Paige said simply, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why not?”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Paige, you’ve never been on a date in your life,” she teased, the corners of her lips lifting into a smirk.

Paige grinned, unfazed. “Then you can be my first. It’ll just be dinner. That’s what people do on first dates, right?”

Azzi couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her, a warm sound that filled the room. “Sure, P,” she said softly, her gaze lingering on Paige’s earnest expression. “You can take me on a date.”

“Perfect,” Paige said, her grin widening. “Tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow?” Azzi repeated, her eyebrows shooting up in mock surprise. “What if I’m busy?”

Paige tilted her head, giving Azzi a pointed look. “We have the same schedule. You’re free.”

Azzi playfully scoffed, crossing her arms. “Fine, tomorrow,” she said, her lips curling into an amused smile. “But don’t think this means I’m easy to impress.”

Paige leaned closer, her confidence never wavering. “Oh, I don’t need to impress you,” she teased, her voice dropping just enough to send a slight shiver through Azzi. “You’re already impressed by everything I do.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the blush creeping up her neck betrayed her. “You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, unable to hide her smile.

“Ridiculous enough for you to go on a date with me,” Paige shot back, settling back into the pillows with a triumphant grin.

…

The next night rolled around, and Paige found herself standing outside the door of her own suite, a bouquet of flowers in her hand. She’d insisted that if this was going to be a real date, she had to pick Azzi up properly. So to make it authentic, she’d gotten ready in Nika’s room, leaving Azzi to prepare in the suite they shared.

Now, as she stood there, her nerves betrayed her usual confidence. Paige wiped her hands on her pants and took a steadying breath, the flowers trembling slightly in her grip. When the door finally opened, any composure she’d mustered vanished.

Azzi stood before her in a matching hot pink set: shorts and a blazer-like jacket that hung open to reveal an extremely cropped black shirt underneath, leaving little to the imagination. The outfit framed her toned stomach perfectly, her belly piercing catching the light, while the silver heart necklace Paige had given her rested against her skin.

Paige’s breath hitched, her words disappearing entirely as she stared. Azzi, blushing ever so slightly under the weight of Paige’s gaze, let out a soft laugh. “Do you like it?” she teased, her voice laced with a hint of shyness despite her confident appearance.

Paige finally snapped her mouth shut, her lips curving into a goofy smile. “Woah… yeah…you look amazing, Azzi,” she managed, her voice quieter than usual.

Then she remembered the flowers still in her hand and thrust them forward a little awkwardly. “These are for you.”

Azzi’s smile softened, her brown eyes sparkling as she took the bouquet. “Thank you,” she said warmly, clearly charmed by how flustered Paige was—a rarity for the usually self-absorbed blonde.

Azzi turned and walked back into the suite to find a vase for the flowers. Paige stayed rooted in place, still lingering by the doorway. Her gaze followed Azzi as the other girl moved effortlessly, her perfume lingering in the air where she had stood. Paige exhaled slowly, her heart pounding as she realized how completely Azzi had captivated her.

As Azzi walked back toward the door, her eyes flickered over Paige, taking in every detail. Paige had her hair down, slightly wavy—just the way Azzi liked it—and was wearing a knitted cardigan adorned with delicate flowers and a white shirt underneath it. Her patchwork blue jeans, with their various shades of denim, added a casual yet stylish touch that somehow made her look a little too good in Azzi’s eyes. 

Azzi’s gaze lingered as she raked her eyes over Paige’s figure, a subtle appreciation shining in her expression. Paige, noticing this, seemed to regain her usual confidence. The nervous energy from earlier faded, replaced by a smirk that tugged at the corner of her lips.

“What?” Paige teased, her voice low and playful as she tilted her head. “You already eye fucking me, and we haven’t even left yet?”

Azzi blinked, caught off guard by Paige’s sudden shift in demeanor, but her cheeks warmed as she laughed softly. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she shot back, brushing past Paige and bumping her shoulder lightly.

Paige chuckled, stepping aside to let Azzi pass, but her smirk only deepened. “Come on,” she said, holding out her hand for Azzi to take. “Let’s get this date started before you decide you can’t wait.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that crept across her face as she slipped her hand into Paige’s. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t already decided.”

…

When they arrived at the restaurant, Paige made a point to pull Azzi’s seat out for her, earning a soft, amused smile. After ensuring Azzi was comfortably seated, Paige settled into her own chair, her fingers lightly drumming on the table.

Azzi noticed the subtle nervous energy radiating from Paige and leaned forward, her smile warm and reassuring. “You know you don’t need to be nervous, right? It’s just us. We’ve had dinner together hundreds of times.”

Paige, not one to admit she was rattled, plastered on a confident grin. “Psh, nervous? Me? I’ve got this in the bag,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively, though her knee bouncing under the table told a different story.

Azzi tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re such a liar. You’re literally fidgeting right now.”

Paige stilled her hands and raised a brow. “Okay, first of all, I’m not fidgeting. I’m just... uh, practicing my reflexes. Athletes do that, you know. Second, this is going to be the best date you’ve ever been on, so sit back and enjoy, Ms. Fudd.”

Azzi chuckled, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand. “Alright then, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Paige smirked, relaxing slightly as they fell into their usual rhythm. The conversation shifted to light teasing like always 

Azzi grinned as Paige described an admittedly clumsy move during practice earlier that week that led to a turnover. “So you’re saying your hands couldn’t keep up, huh?” Azzi teased, her voice dropping just enough to add a layer of meaning.

Paige rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “Not everyone has your freakishly perfect coordination, Az.”

“Good thing I remember you being pretty coordinated when it actually counts…” Azzi replied smoothly, her voice low and full of suggestion.

Paige froze mid-breath, her jaw dropping open as her brain scrambled to process Azzi’s words.

Azzi leaned back in her chair, her smirk wide as she watched Paige’s stunned expression. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

Before Paige could even think of a response, the waiter approached their table, her attention immediately drawn to Paige. With a charming smile, she addressed Paige warmly, completely ignoring Azzi.

Paige, however, didn’t even notice the waiter’s presence. Her wide-eyed gaze remained fixed on Azzi, her expression a mix of desire, admiration, and pure shock.

Azzi glanced at the waiter, then back at Paige, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms. “Earth to Paige,” she said teasingly, lightly kicking her under the table.

Paige blinked, finally snapping out of her daze. “Huh?” she mumbled, her head jerking toward the waiter, who was now waiting patiently with an amused expression.

The waiter gave Paige a quick once-over before flashing a flirtatious smile. “I was just asking, if you’re ready to order? I’m sure whatever you choose will be just as good as you look,” she said, her tone light and teasing.

Paige, still a little dazed, didn’t even acknowledge the compliment, her eyes having already drifted back to Azzi. Without missing a beat, she motioned toward Azzi, murmuring, “Um she’ll order for both of us.”

Azzi smirked at the subtle way Paige brushed the girl off. “I’ll have the grilled salmon, and she’ll have the filet mignon, medium, with a side of the mashed potatoes,” she said smoothly, locking eyes with the waiter.

The waiter gave a quick nod, clearly a little taken aback by Azzi’s effortless command, before she turned and walked away. 

Azzi, not letting her teasing moment pass, leaned in and whispered, “You’re so easy to fluster, you know that?”

Paige finally shook herself out of her stupor, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “You like making me do that, don’t you?”

Azzi’s smirk deepened, and she leaned back in her chair. “Maybe. It’s cute how much I can get to you with just a few words.”

Azzi and Paige continued their light conversation, the air between them easy and familiar as they waited for their food to come out. 

As she returned with their food, her smile widening as she set the plates down in front of them. Her gaze lingered on Paige once more, and she leaned slightly closer than necessary. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked, her voice soft, her tone unmistakably suggestive.

Paige, busy unwrapping her silverware, didn’t bother looking at the waiter. Instead, she gestured toward Azzi. “You can ask her,” she said dismissively, her tone a little flat.

Azzi’s lips twitched with amusement as she leaned back in her chair. With deliberate ease, she reached across the table, letting her hand rest just near Paige’s wrist. She kept her touch subtle, a silent claim that didn’t go unnoticed by Paige, whose posture relaxed slightly as she smiled to herself.

Azzi finally turned her gaze to the waiter, her smile polite but sharp. “We’re all set, thanks,” she said smoothly, her tone leaving no room for interpretation.

The waiter hesitated, clearly missing—or choosing to ignore—the subtext. She turned her attention back to Paige, leaning forward slightly. “Well, if you change your mind... you know where to find me,” she said, her eyes glinting with boldness as she lingered at the table longer than necessary.

Azzi tilted her head slightly, her amusement growing at the audacity of the girl in front of her. So her fingers shifted, brushing just barely against Paige’s wrist now, her touch featherlight but deliberate. Paige’s breath slightly hitched, her eyes darting to Azzi as her face began to flush at the soft touch.

Azzi, clearly enjoying herself, leaned forward slightly. Her voice dropped, soft and teasing but with a possessive undertone that was impossible to miss. “Paige, baby,” she murmured, her thumb starting a slow, deliberate stroke against the inside of Paige’s wrist as she looked her in the eyes. “Is there anything you need from her?”

Paige’s lips parted, her breath slightly stuttering as she stared at Azzi in awe. She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “No... I'm good,” she said, the words rushed but sincere, clearly immersed in the control Azzi was putting forward.

Azzi smirked, her fingers sliding down to lightly intertwine with Paige’s. She didn’t grip too tightly, just enough to make her point as she finally turned her attention back to the waiter. “See? She’s good,” Azzi said, her tone sweet but pointed, her eyes narrowing slightly.

The waiter faltered, her confidence cracking as her eyes flicked between them, taking in the subtle shift in Paige’s demeanor as she was once again completely immersed in Azzi. “I was just being friendly,” she said, her smile now strained.

Azzi’s smile tightened, and her grip on Paige’s hand squeezed just slightly, her thumb brushing along the back of Paige’s knuckles. “Friendly’s fine,” she said lightly, her tone still sweet but carrying an unmistakable edge. “Just not with her.” 

The waiter finally seemed to understand she was losing ground. With a tight, awkward smile, she mumbled, “Well... enjoy your meal,” before walking away without another word.

As the waiter disappeared, Azzi let out a soft chuckle, her thumb lazily resuming its strokes against Paige’s hand. “That was cute,” Azzi teased, her smirk widening as she watched Paige squirm.

Paige groaned, finally tugging her hand free and leaning forward to hide her face in her hands. “You’re kinda crazy Az,” she muttered, though her soft laugh betrayed her words.

Azzi leaned back in her chair, her smirk still firmly in place as she picked up her fork. “Well I guess that’s the first new thing you’ll learn about me,” she said casually, giving Paige a look. “I really don’t like sharing.”

Paige peeked at her from between her fingers, her lips quirking into a teasing smile. “Hmm. Wouldn’t have pegged you as the jealous type,” she said, her voice light but edged with curiosity.

Azzi’s smile widened as she shrugged. “I didn’t say anything about being jealous,” she replied smoothly.. She tilted her head toward where the waiter had retreated. “I just know how to put people in their place.”

Paige laughed, rolling her eyes as she leaned back in her chair. “No need,” she said casually. “I don’t see anybody but you at this point.”

The simplicity of Paige's words struck Azzi unexpectedly, and her heart fluttered in her chest. There was a warmth in the sincerity of it all, a reassurance that settled deep in her, and in that moment, Azzi realized how much she wanted to give herself over completely to Paige. It wasn’t just about the date or the playful teasing anymore—it was about something real, something she could feel in her bones.

A while later Azzi was grinning as Paige gave her another bite of her food, making her comment softly, “You know, this is the first date I’ve actually enjoyed.”

Paige cocked an eyebrow, her lips curving into a cocky grin. “Of course it is,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “It’s me.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, her smile never wavering. “Whatever,” she muttered playfully, but the affection in her voice was unmistakable. She couldn’t deny how much this meant to her.

Paige, with a teasing glint in her eye, reached for another bite of food, offering it to Azzi again. But Azzi raised an eyebrow, giving her a mock glare. “Are you actually going to eat any of your food, or are you just planning on giving it all to me?”

Paige shrugged with a mischievous grin. “You need to eat.”

Azzi glanced down at her plate, clearly making progress in her meal. “I’m eating,” she said, giving Paige an exaggerated look. Azzi picked up a forkful of her salmon and waved it in front of Paige’s face. “Here. You try it. It’s actually pretty good.”

Paige recoiled dramatically, holding up her hands. “Oh no, I’m good. You know I don’t do salmon.”

Azzi made a face, then went for the classic move. She looked at Paige with the most exaggerated, pleading puppy dog eyes she could muster. “Please? Just one bite? For me?”

Paige sighed dramatically, resisting for only a moment. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

But before Azzi could even manage a victorious grin, Paige relented. “Fine. One bite.” She said with mock reluctance and let Azzi feed her a bite of the salmon.

Paige chewed it slowly, her face a picture of careful deliberation. She swallowed and then, after a long pause, gave Azzi a look that was half-amused, half-disgusted.

Azzi was already smiling, clearly pleased with herself. “See? It wasn’t that bad.”

Paige grumbles in disagreement as she eats some of her food to get rid of the taste. 

As they continued talking Paige was mid-bite when a small bit of mashed potato found its way to her lip. She didn’t notice at first but Azzi did. So with a playful smirk, Azzi reached across the table, her fingers brushing lightly against Paige's skin as she gently wiped the spot from her lip with her index finger. As she pulled her hand back, Azzi made a deliberate show of slowly licking the mashed potato off her finger, her gaze locked with Paige’s the entire time. The movement was teasing, a mix of subtle flirtation and confidence that left Paige a little breathless.

Paige couldn’t pull her eyes away from Azzi as she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. When she managed to speak, her voice low, almost a whisper as she simply said, “Azzi please.”

Azzi tilted her head innocently, her lips curling into a playful smile. “Yes, Paige?” she asked, her tone casual, but her eyes sparkled with mischief, knowing exactly what she was doing, loving the control she had over Paige. 

Paige swallowed hard, her heart racing as she licked her lips. “You’re killing me tonight,” she murmured, her gaze never breaking from Azzi’s.

Azzi’s smile widened, her voice dripping with teasing confidence as she leaned just slightly closer across the table. “I know, baby,” she replied smoothly.

The air around them seemed to shift. The noise of the restaurant, the clink of cutlery, the hum of conversations—all faded into the background as Paige and Azzi stayed locked in each other’s gaze. Paige’s pupils dilated, her blue eyes growing darker under the intensity of Azzi’s stare. 

Azzi, fully aware of the effect she was having, didn’t look away. There was a challenge in her gaze now, an unspoken dare, almost as if she was silently urging Paige to make the next move. 

Paige clenched her jaw, fighting the urge to pull Azzi closer, to end the dinner and take her home. She could feel her composure slipping away, and Azzi, with that smile still firmly in place, was more than happy to push her further.

Azzi’s gaze never wavered as she subtly shifted her hand, her fingers brushing against Paige's with a deliberate slowness as she let their fingers intertwine, a small yet intimate gesture that sent a jolt of heat through Paige’s body. Azzi’s touch was light, almost teasing, but it was enough to completely throw off Paige’s concentration.

Paige had to close her eyes for a moment, trying to regain some semblance of control. She could barely think straight with the way Azzi was looking at her. So she took a slow breath, trying to ground herself, but Azzi’s hand holding hers kept her tethered in the moment. 

“Open your eyes P,” Azzi’s voice was a whisper, but it carried authority, a command wrapped in sweetness. The edge in her tone made Paige’s stomach tighten.

Paige slowly opened her eyes, finding herself once again lost in the depths of Azzi’s gaze immediately. There was no escaping it now. She was completely under Azzi’s spell, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to escape at all. Azzi’s fingers tightened around hers, their palms pressed together as the world around them seemed to fade, leaving only them.

Azzi’s gaze softened, her voice barely above a whisper. “What are you thinking about?” she asked, her words carrying a mix of curiosity and something darker, something that Paige could feel even before the question left her lips.

Paige, unable to look away, let a slow smile curl at the corners of her mouth. “You know exactly what I’m thinking about,” she said, her voice low. 

Azzi’s smile widened, her eyes flickering with mischief and desire. “Take me home then,” she said, the words slipping from her lips like a secret, a command wrapped in temptation.

That was all it took.

Paige didn’t hesitate. She threw a couple of bills onto the table—definitely more than enough to cover the tab—and stood up. Both of them heading for Paige’s car with a little extra pep in their step. 

…

Once they get to the suite, Azzi starts walking towards her room, but Paige grabs her hand pulling her towards her room that’s further from Ice’s, trying to spare the girl. 

Azzi raises an eyebrow but doesn’t protest as she lets Paige lead her. As they step into Paige’s room she wastes no time shutting the door behind them and locking it. 

Paige flicks on her led lamp to lightly illuminate the room and before she can gather her bearings, Azzi’s hands were on her, as she gently pushed her back against the door. Paige’s back hit it with a soft thud, her breath catching in her throat at Azzi’s confidence and her pulse quickening slightly as she met Azzi’s smile with a grin of her own. Azzi’s smile was a slow, teasing smile–one that made Paige feel like she was already a step behind in whatever was happening in Azzi’s head. 

Azzi studied her for a moment, clearly enjoying the way Paige’s body seemed to melt at her touch. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for the buttons on Paige's cardigan, her fingers grazing the fabric as she slowly started unbuttoning it. "You always look so damn good," Azzi murmured, her voice soft but filled with heat. "You have no idea what you do to me. How you make me feel."

With each button undone, the white shirt underneath was revealed, the fabric clinging slightly to Paige’s frame, teasing Azzi. The room felt unbearably warm, and Paige was basically trembling, unsure if it was from desire or the intensity of Azzi's gaze.

Azzi stopped halfway through unbuttoning, her fingers still resting on the cardigan. "Tell me…" she whispered, leaning in close, her breath brushing against Paige's cheek. "What are you thinking about now?"

Paige’s breath hitched, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts, none of them coherent enough to form an answer. She could feel the heat of Azzi's body so close to hers, her lips barely brushing her ear with each whispered word. She couldn’t even formulate a response. She had never felt like this before, had never been the one with a loss of words.

Azzi smiled softly at Paige’s flustered expression, enjoying the way Paige’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as she finished unbuttoning Paige’s sweater. With a deliberate slowness Azzi brushed the cardigan off Paige’s shoulders, letting it fall carelessly to the floor.

Her fingers trailed down Paige’s waist, coming to rest on her belt as she began undoing it as she watched Paige’s every reaction. Azzi's touch was firm but gentle, pulling Paige just slightly towards her, guiding them slowly toward the bed. Their eyes met, and in that moment, Azzi's gaze was soft but undeniably commanding, filled with an unspoken promise that sent a shiver down Paige’s spine.

“I want you,” Azz whispered, her voice low and laced with desire. “I want you to do whatever you want to me.” 

Paige finally found her voice, her tone softer, almost vulnerable as she asked, “Are you sure?”

Azzi didn’t hesitate. Without a flicker of doubt in her eyes, she nodded, the softness of her gaze only intensifying the fire between them.

Azzi’s confirmation was all Paige needed as she immediately reached for Azzi, pulling her into a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate, their breaths mingling as the moment consumed them. Azzi’s fingers, still toying with Paige’s belt, moved to undo it with an effortless confidence that made Paige’s pulse quicken. 

Before she knew it, Paige was guiding Azzi backward the rest of the way toward the bed, her grip steady but filled with an unspoken urgency. Azzi smirked against Paige’s lips, letting herself be pushed down, her body melting into the mattress. 

The sight of Paige standing above her, her belt now hanging open and her eyes completely dilated with want was enough to make Azzi bite her lip, her gaze also dark. Her hand found its way to Paige’s loose belt gently tugging Paige toward her. “Don’t make me wait anymore,” she teased, her voice dripping with desire. 

Azzi watches as Paige takes off her jeans, never breaking eye contact. As soon as she’s done she’s climbing on the bed, hovering over Azzi as their lips meet again, this time softer but no less consuming, Each kiss feeling like a promise, a declaration as they become lost in one another. 

Paige’s hands moved expertly, finding the edges of Azzi’s blazer. With a gentle tug, she slipped it off Azzi’s shoulder, her fingertips brushing against Azzi's warm skin. Azzi sat up slightly to help, her eyes never leaving Paige’s as the blazer fell away, leaving her in the cropped black shirt that clung to her frame tightly. 

Paige’s breath caught for a moment as her gaze roamed over Azzi, her hands lightly tracing along the hem of her shirt. “You’re incredible,” Paige whispered, her voice tinged with awe. 

Azzi smiles at Paige’s words, her expression soft at the girl on top of her. Without saying a word, she reached up, pulling Paige toward her again, capturing her lips in a kiss that was much more intense than the last. 

The kiss grew heavier with each moment, Paige swiping her tongue across Azzi’s lips asking for access that Azzi immediately grants as the world outside the room fades away, their focus narrowing to just the two of them. Azzi’s hands roam Paige’s sides, her touch firm, sending jolts of excitement through Paige’s skin. 

Azzi breaks the kiss briefly, pushing Paige slightly back with a playful smirk. Paige looked at her, breathless, as Azzi’s hands reached for the hem of her shirt. With a smooth motion, Azzi pulled the shirt over her head, tossing it aside before meeting Paige’s gaze again who had also quickly discarded her white shirt. 

The sight of Azzi like this left Paige momentarily stunned. But before she could linger on the image too long trying to capture it for memory, Azzi pulled her back in, their lips meeting again matching the intensity right where they left off. 

Azzi began making soft noises into Paige’s mouth, each sound sending a warmth through her body. It drove Paige absolutely crazy, her restraint slipping more and more with every passing second. 

“Fuck Azzi,” Paige murmured, her voice low as she pulled back just enough to begin pressing her lips to Azzi’s neck. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” 

Azzi let out another quiet, breathy moan at the attention she was getting, her hands grabbing Paige’s waist as she tilted her head to the side granting Paige better access. “I think I do,” she whispered, her voice teasing but strained.

Paige’s lips and teeth worked along Azzi’s neck, her kisses alternating between soft and firm as she trailed down to the delicate curve where Azzi’s shoulder met her collarbone. Azzi’s hands slide up Paige’s back, pulling her impossibly closer. “Right there baby,” Azzi whispered, her voice breaking slightly as Paige’s lips and tongue lingered on a particularly sensitive spot. 

“Shit you feel so good,” Azzi breathed, her words almost inaudible but thick with emotion. 

Her voice was like music to Paige’s ears, the way it shook with every touch drove her to keep going. Paige’s lips curled into a slight smile against Azzi’s skin as she dragged her mouth lower, savoring the soft gasps and whispered encouragement Azzi continued to spill. 

“Perfect,” Azzi murmured, when Paige’s lips met her waist. Her voice melted into something low and satisfied. “You’re perfect.”

Paige groaned softly at the words, her hands tightening on Azzi’s hips as she whispered back, “You’re killing me Azzi baby.”

Azzi laughed softly, though it was laced with breathlessness. “Then don’t hold back,” she murmured, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair. “I don’t want you to.” Before Azzi could even process what she was asking for, the rest of her clothes were pulled off skilfully in a quick motion. 

Paige’s actions fueled by Azzi’s words, every whispered encouragement and breathless murmur driving her as she finally gave Azzi exactly what she wanted, pouring every ounce of her desire and affection into her touch. 

Azzi made sure Paige knew exactly how much she was enjoying every moment of it. Her voice a symphony of soft gasps, murmured praises, and loud moans, echoing through the room without a care for who might hear. 

“Fuck baby…yes just like that,” Azzi said breathlessly, her hands threading through Paige’s hair, tugging lightly as her head titled back and her hips moved to reach Paige’s movements. “Don’t stop..please, don’t stop.”

Paige just hummed as she pressed closer, her lips and hands working in perfect rhythm, completely consumed by Azzi’s responses. Each sound Azzi made spurring her on more, her own restraint dissolving as she focused on the girl beneath her. 

“You’re amazing,” Azzi murmured, her voice trembling with raw emotion, her nails grabbing Paige’s shoulders. “I need you, Paige. Just you.” 

Paige’s heart raced at the confession, her fingers growing more intense as she kissed her way back to Azzi’s lips, capturing her in a passionate kiss that left them both breathless. 

Azzi’s laughter bubbled up between gasps, a mix of pure joy and overwhelming sensation at the way Paige was touching her. “You’re going to make me lose my mind,” she admitted, her voice shaky but full of affection, her lips brushing against Paige’s as she spoke. 

Paige’s fingers continued their rhythm inside Azzi, as her voice dipped into a tone so soft yet full of conviction. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, her words wrapping around Azzi. “Every part of you, Azzi…I could get lost in your forever.” 

Azzi’s breath hitched at the sincerity in Paige’s voice, her chest rising and falling as she clung to the words. Paige didn’t stop there, leaning closer, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she added, “You’re everything to me Az. So perfect. I promise you I’m only yours.”

The praise sent so much warmth through Azzi and she arched slightly, her head tilting back as her lips parted. “Paige..” she murmured her voice trembling with emotion. Azzi’s hands found their way to Paige’s back, holding onto her as if she were her anchor, grounding her in this moment. 

Azzi’s gaze was unwavering, her brown eyes dark with passion yet soft with adoration. Paige’s blue eyes mirrored the same intensity, her pupils dilated as she took in every inch of the girl beneath her. 

“You’re so fucking incredible,” Azzi whispered, her voice breathy but firm, her fingers digging into Paige’s skin as her fingers curled perfectly inside of her. 

Azzi began trembling beneath Paige biting her lip trying to hold onto some resemblance of control, her body completely attuned to every touch, every word, the way their gaze was locked onto one another. Her breathing became uneven, her chest rising and falling as if she was trying to steady herself but kept failing. Her eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, but Paige wasn’t having it. 

“Azzi,” Paige whispered, her voice low but commanding, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she hovered over her. “Look at me,” 

Azzi’s long lashes flickered as she tried to open her eyes but the feeling was too much for her. Paige’s free hand gently cupped her jaw, her thumb brushing over her cheek as she spoke again, this time softer but just as firm. “Open your eyes, Az. I want you to look at me while you finish for me baby.” 

Azzi let out a shaky breath, her lids lifting slowly until their eyes met once more. The second their gazes locked it was like Azzi couldn’t take anymore as her mouth fell open, the sheer intimacy of the moment causing a sound to escape Azzi’s lips–louder and more unrestrained than she expected. It was uncharacteristically loud for someone usually so composed but she didn’t care. “God, baby right there... please Paige... don't…fuck please don’t stop,” every word laced with need and vulnerability before she’s throwing her head back coming undone for Paige. 

Paige smiles at the sound of Azzi's voice as she leans in and kisses her slowly, their tongue tasting every part of each other as Paige's pace slows, just enough to make Azzi's body ache with the contrast. Azzi's breath comes in shallow gasps, every inch of her skin alive with need.

Paige’s lips curled into a soft, knowing smile, her thumb still stroking Azzi’s cheek. “You did so good for me,” she murmured, her words laced with affection and pride.

Azzi’s grip tightened on Paige’s back as she was still trying to anchor herself. Her voice trembled as she replied, “You… you’re going to ruin me, Paige.”

Paige leaned closer, her lips barely brushing against Azzi’s as she whispered, “I won’t baby, I got you. I promise.”

The exchange sent another wave of shivers through Azzi, her body arching instinctively toward Paige as she started moving again, unable to resist the pull between them. She looks up at Paige pleading for something-anything more.

Paige notices the way Azzi's body trembles under her, how her breath hitches every time she curls her fingers. Her voice drops, soothing but commanding, "Breathe, baby. Just breathe."

The words themselves are almost a command, but they're gentle, like a touch trying to calm the chaos in Azzi’s chest as it rises and falls rapidly, trying to obey, but she feels the pressure inside her building again, tighter this time. Paige's thumb presses into her as she continues her movements deliberate but slow, a stark contrast to how Azzi's body wants to react.

Paige can tell Azzi’s body is going into overdrive so she starts speaking to her. "Focus on me," Paige murmurs near Azzi’s ear, her voice smooth and low, sending ripples of warmth through Azzi. "Focus on your breathing. In and out, nice and slow." She moves her hand in small, measured circles, pushing Azzi right to the edge and pulling her back. "You're doing so good Azzi. Just breathe through it, baby. Let me guide you."

Azzi's entire body is trembling, her mind racing to keep up with the ebb and flow of pleasure. It feels like it's almost too much, but Paige's steady control-her voice, her hands keeps her grounded. The way she talks to her, calm but firm, drives Azzi crazy, and all she can do is follow, surrendering her body to the rhythm Paige has set.

"Tell me how it feels," Paige says, softly. "I wanna hear you some more for me baby."

Azzi opens her mouth, but no coherent words come out-only the sound of desperate, broken breaths as she forces herself to focus on Paige, her voice, her eyes, her touch.

"Feels... feels so good, Paige baby... I can't-" Her voice cracks, the tension too much to contain, but Paige doesn't speed up. She waits, her touch still steady.

"Good just like that baby. Breathe. You're almost there," Paige whispers, coaxing Azzi through it, her own voice filled with desire and pure admiration of the girl underneath her.

Azzi looks up at Paige, her eyes glazed over with need as she’s straining to keep them open. She trembles slightly, her voice barely a whisper as she murmurs, "P I can’t— I can't take anymore."

Paige’s hand shifts to lightly wrap around Azzi’s neck, gently but firmly guiding her gaze to her eyes, making sure she doesn’t look away. She squeezes slightly, her thumb brushing across Azzi’s skin as she speaks, her voice steady but soft, full of encouragement. “Yes, you can. Just relax baby. Let me make you feel good.” 

Azzi nods, trying to steady her racing heart, her breaths shallow as she sinks into the rhythm of Paige's touch. As Paige squeezes again, Azzi’s hand moves to cover Paige’s, her fingers curling around hers, squeezing tighter as she gazes directly into Paige’s eyes. The sensation sparks something deep inside her, and without breaking eye contact, she whispers, "Harder, baby."

The words are a desperate plea, the intensity of her need clear in her voice. Paige’s eyes never leave Azzi’s as her breath hitches and the pressure builds. Azzi, feeling her body react, presses her hips closer to Paige’s movements, her chest rising and falling faster. “Fuck Paige right there, don’t stop,” Azzi breathes out, her voice low and almost frantic. “Mmm make me feel it baby, show me how much you miss fucking me.”

Paige tightens her grip, feeling Azzi’s pulse beneath her fingertips, and Azzi’s body continues to tremble with anticipation as Paige quickens her movements, fingers curling as she moves in and out of Azzi. Paige’s voice is low, almost teasing, as she murmurs, “You’re taking it so well baby fuck, you look so good under me.”

Azzi’s fingers curl tighter around Paige’s wrist, urging her on. “Yes, just like that,” Azzi whispers, her voice filled with a desire that only Paige can satisfy. “Harder, please Paige, don’t stop. You feel so good.”

Paige’s touch becomes more deliberate, the pressure firm and her movements unrelenting as Azzi’s breathing quickens. She feels the way Azzi’s body reacts, every tremble and sigh pushing her to give her more. Paige leans in, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she whispers, “You’re so gorgeous baby, so perfect…I always knew how pretty you would sound.”

Azzi moans softly, unable to stop the sounds escaping her lips, each one more desperate than the last as Paige’s gaze burns into her. For a moment, neither of them speaks. The air between them thick a shared silence where only the sound of their heavy breathing and Paige’s fingers moving in and out of Azzi remains. 

After a few more seconds, Azzi's body gives in, a burning release overtaking her body again as she arches her back off the bed. A chorus of breathless moans escaping her lips.

Paige's heart stirs at the sight as she removes her hand from Azzi’s neck immediately and without hesitation. She leans down, kissing her cheek gently as if she's taking away the last bit of tension that still clung to Azzi's body. She whispers, "God you're so beautiful Az. You mean everything to me," before leaning her lips down to Azzi's, their kiss soft, almost loving.

Azzi's eyes flutter shut, her hands coming down to wrap around Paige's head as she lets the kiss ground her. It's slow and tender and everything Azzi needs. 

Paige starts kissing down Azzi’s body, ready to keep going but Azzi’s hand shoots out, gently but firmly stopping her. Her breath comes in shaky gasps as she looks at Paige with exhaustion and a small sight of desire. “Baby…I can’t. Physically… I can’t take anymore right now, I need a break.” She says, her voice strained, the edge of exhaustion clear.

Paige’s lips curl into a teasing smirk, the challenge in her eyes only growing more playful. Before she can say anything, Azzi—still struggling to catch her breath—manages a shaky smile and jokes, “Shut up, Paige. Seriously, just… shut up for a second."

Paige’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “I’ll give you a break but I hope you can keep up because I plan on doing this all night,” she teased softly, her voice low and dripping with warmth.

Azzi responded with a quiet hum of agreement, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair to pull her back into another soft slow kiss, one that carried all the unspoken promises of the night still ahead.

…

The next morning, Paige woke up groggily, the bright sunlight streaming through the window making it impossible to stay asleep. She stirred, trying to stretch, but stopped when she felt a comforting weight pinning her down. Azzi’s body was draped halfway over her, the other half sprawled across the bed. Paige couldn’t help but smile as her gaze landed on Azzi’s face, her soft features illuminated by the morning light.

A quiet laugh escaped Paige’s lips as she realized Azzi was definitely going to blame her for letting her fall asleep without her bonnet, she could already hear the teasing tone in her voice.

As if sensing Paige’s thoughts, Azzi began to stir, a groan slipping past her lips as she shielded her eyes from the sun. “Ugh, why is it so bright?” she mumbled, echoing Paige’s earlier thoughts.

Paige chuckled softly, shifting her body to block the sunlight from hitting Azzi’s face. “Better?” she asked gently, her voice warm and teasing.

When Azzi finally looked up at her, a sleepy smile spread across her face, her dimples appearing as her cheeks flushed slightly. “Good morning, pretty girl,” Paige said, her voice soft but filled with affection.

Azzi’s smile grew wider at the compliment, but she quickly tried to hide her face against Paige’s chest. “Mmm, too sleepy,” she mumbled, her voice muffled.

Paige laughed quietly and carefully shifted out from under Azzi, earning a small, dissatisfied grumble from her. She walked over to the window, pulling the blackout curtains closed and plunging the room into a comforting darkness.

As she returned to the bed, Azzi wasted no time, tugging Paige back down and pulling her close but before Paige could settle in, Azzi leaned up to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. Paige’s heart immediately fluttered at the tenderness of the moment, how casual Azzi was about it.

“Go back to sleep,” Azzi whispered, her words barely audible as she rested her head on Paige’s chest once more.

Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and with Azzi’s steady breaths against her, Paige felt a sense of peace she hadn’t ever experienced. Slowly, they both drifted back to sleep as Paige realized she was completely in love with the girl laying on her chest.

[a2zillustration]

One last night together before everything changes :')

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[silvermun]

i've had to draw shadow at least 12 times today his impact truly holds no bounds

[keeps-ache]

just wait til i remember how to turn properly, then it's all over for you losers [<- the steep hill i'm scared of rolling down at the park]

[cloudsthatglowinthenightsky]

*flops onto couch beside you* why do you tag all the things with among us sus i'm curious

hello!!! *couch therapist voice* i wanted to be funny (as you've probably guessed) but it's more than that! i had already been on tumblr for months before i started making and reblogging posts so i was familiar with individual tagging systems. i decided to start a tag for my original posts and my reblogs because i like organization. desperately trying to think of the most confusing and hilarious only to me tag possible, i stumbled on maybe the vaguest connection between "reblogging post" and "among us sus" possible. basically among us sus = suspicious imposter = person who is not me = reblogging posts. it's unclear whether the person i'm reblogging from is the imposter for showing up on my blog as not me, or if i am for putting the post on my blog without creating it. i really need to revamp my tagging system for organization purposes but also for more chances to be silly..... maybe i can just spontaneously start tagging things with no notice. yeah good plan

[giantkillerjack]

Y'ALL last night i spent a total of 2 minutes tops on my appearance and then went to a lesbian bar full of attractive people anyway, got up onstage during an event about sharing stories of queer joy, openly wept almost the entire time I was up there, and I STILL managed to give a good performance and come away feeling charming!

And THEN a troupe of improv actors and a pianist put on a short and very sweet sketch based on what I had said about the joy of seeing elder Trans folk in public as a disabled Trans person.

And I hope the queer elder I saw there really felt that love especially. I felt the troupe's performance really did me justice, and it was so beautiful.

But also, y'all, I was still able to crack jokes that got the whole room laughing WHILE I WAS CRYING!!! - A skill I'm just realizing I probably polished while I was in intensive group trauma therapy lol. Shout out to all my fellow IOP/PHP buckaroos in the chat!

and the best part about this little performance of mine? My most favorite-est proudest little detail?

It was easy. It was EASY!?!?!? IT WAS EASY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As in, the words I wanted came so naturally that I was able to deliver them with excellent timing on split-second judgment!!!!

Do you know what that means to me??? Oh I am so proud of this little Jack here! He who worked so so hard for a thing like that! I worked so much and for so long, and I shall - no, I MUST - celebrate the precious joy and pride of having achieved this childhood dream!

Oh to tell Younger Jack that he would be able to do such a thing one day! That sweet anxious confused child would feel such relief just to know it can be done! What a wonderful victory! It felt so good!

Life is fucking hard and dreams can come and go, but I can say that in this way at least I have become the kind of person I always dreamed I would be. ❤

AND I know that if I had rolled low on my charisma throw [i.e. made a social mistake] - which I have done, often do, and SHALL AGAIN [see profile picture] - I could have brushed it off with the ease of an old actor who knows that performance has only ever been the business of consensually making oneself look like a fool!

.... Or perhaps I would have processed my mistake with the knowledge of a fellow who has been to enough poetry slams to know that a kind and loving audience in a vulnerable safe space generally just responds to a performer's nervousness/awkwardness/difficulty communicating by rooting for them! I knew I was in a space where people wanted to see me do well, and that helped a lot. Bless those people for making that space. ❤❤❤

This post is not focused on my many MANY grateful and loving emotions about elder queers because, as I may have mentioned, I've sort of already expressed a lot of feelings about that for one 24-hour period. 😅

[rafesangelita]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ gooning to your instagram page was a regular occurrence for stepbro!rafe, but getting caught? that’s something that didn’t happen everyday..

warnings: stepcest, reader is bit of a bimbo, male masturbation, rafe is super pervy and kinda icky in this lol, name calling, handjob, messy kissing, oral (f. receiving), praise, mutual pining (?), dirty talk, pussy slapping, overstimulation, unprotected sex, rafe is a loser so premature ejaculation, marking, cock warming, multiple orgasms, creampie

wc: 2.0k

“such a fucking slut, ‘posting shit like this.” rafe cursed under his breath, his phone in one hand and his cock in the other. jerking off to your slutty instagram account had become a part of his daily routine. he hated that you were so active on it, but then again, if it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t have so many pictures and videos to keep him sane while he fantasized about fucking his bratty little stepsister. pathetically enough, rafe knew he had to keep his grimy hands off of you, and fuck, did it piss him off. to have something so close, yet so far out of his reach.

your story highlights alone was enough to hold him off for the next year, but your actual posts? he swore anyone who came across your page was in gooning heaven. he’d never admit it, but he once spent two entire hours jerking off to a video he had secretly took of you two having a ‘whoever could eat their cone the fastest’ contest, his cock raw and aching to be left alone by the time he decided to give it a rest. he was mesmerized, watching you lick and lap at the icecream, the sweet succulence dripping down your chin, and eventually your tits when you couldn’t keep it from melting.

his eyes screwed shut at the memory, the video currently playing on his phone not being any different. instead of icecream dribbling down your chin, it was whatever alcohol your best friend had just poured in your mouth, the excess liquor running down your neck and chest. you had squealed when you swallowed the burning substance, your tits bouncing as you jumped excitedly with your friends. rafe groaned at the sight. you couldn’t be that oblivious, right??? at some point you had to know what you were doing when you posted this for everyone to see?

your micro bikini top did nothing to support the weight of your tits, a nipple peeking out before you innocently tucked it back underneath the poor excuse of pink material. he clicked out of your story and immediately blew up the image of your recent post. you were on all fours, face down and ass up as your skin sparkled underneath the neon lights of the party you had went to earlier tonight. you looked like you were straight out of a playboy magazine. rafe groaned, his chest heaving as he teetered the edge of cumming all over himself.

he thought about manhandling you out of that bikini and fucking you stupid for wearing it out in the first place. he’s had to watch you whore yourself out for nearly a year already, his life becoming a living hell since the day you first moved in and introduced yourself with that stupid faux innocent look in your eyes. the mini skirts you never failed to bend down in front of him in, the tube tops that basically had your tits spilling out of them, fuck, there was so many things about you that made him horny out of his mind. “oh, shit!” rafe dropped his phone, his door opening just as his orgasm washed over him.

“what the f-fuck?!” he was trembling underneath the covers, his eyes widening as you quietly shut his door behind you. “what are you doing?” he whispered, fumbling around as his high still had his hips stuttering. you giggled, watching as his face morphed into one of full blown pleasure before he turned away from you. “i just wanted to check on you since i heard noises, that’s all..” you sat down on the edge of his bed, biting your lip as his back muscles rippled beneath his skin, your eyes moving to the phone next to him. “oh, well you couldn’t have picked a better time?” rafe scoffed.

you flipped the device over, gasping softly when you saw your instagram illuminating the screen. “hey, that’s me!” you laughed, taking his phone in your hand and holding it up to him before he lunged for the thing, taking you down with him. “rafe!” you yelped his hand coming up to clasp over your mouth. “shut the fuck up! you’re gonna get us in trouble, dummy!” he cursed, his face just centimeters away from your own. you swallowed thickly, nodding as he slowly moved his hand down. “why am i on your phone?” you asked, noticing the way his pupils blew wide at your question.

“what?” he faltered, watching as a smile formed on your lips. “oh my god—” the realization hit you when you looked down, his bulge prominent in his boxers. “were you touching yourself?” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together as he backed away, looking at you as if you had just insinuated the most offensive thing he’s ever heard. “a-are you serious? of course not—” you trailed your hand down, cupping him through the thin material, “it’s okay if you were.. i do it too.” rafe froze, inspecting your face for any kind of hint that you were joking. you weren’t.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” he said through gritted teeth. you peered up at him innocently, batting your eyelashes at him as he made no attempt to move away from you. “i touch myself and think about you, ray. all the time.” you whispered against his lips, placing a soft kiss there before letting your head fall back against his pillows. “i know it’s wrong, but i can’t help it..” this was rafe’s wet dream coming true. “whenever you walk around shirtless i just imagine riding your abs. you’re so strong, rafe, i think about you choking me with these arms.” you ran your nails up the skin of his forearm.

holy fuck.

rafe didn’t believe he could ever be this turned on in his life. “yeah?” he let himself relax, your fingers slipping underneath the waistband of his boxers as you gripped him at the base. you felt the sticky residue from his previous orgasm in your palm, a hum leaving your lips at the revelation. “did i make you cum already?” the man above you groaned. how you sounded so sweet asking the most dirtiest question was beyond him. “fuck— yes, you did,” he nodded, his mouth parting once you started stroking him, “may i pleaseee make you cum again?” rafe nodded frantically, his hips thrusting into your palm.

taking your lips in a searing kiss, rafe didn’t hold back from slipping his tongue in your mouth, the sensation making you moan as you two practically drooled over one another. he wasn’t gentle in the slightest, his teeth nipping your bottom lip when you ran your thumb over his throbbing tip. “oh, god,” he hissed, pulling away momentarily to inspect your outfit.. or lack thereof. you laid underneath him in nothing but a sheer night top, your g-string sitting perfectly between your puffy folds. “you look so fucking hot.” rafe breathed out, cupping your tits before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

you gasped, spreading your thighs so he could lay between them. “i need to taste you, please let me,” he pressed a sloppy kiss to your chin, both of your lips glossy with spit. you moaned, whimpering a ‘yes, please!’ as he snaked down your body. when he got to eye level with your soaking cunt, he teased you by slowly moving your sorry excuse of ‘panties’ aside before spreading you open. you shuddered, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you waited for his next move. pinning your thighs to the tops of his shoulders, rafe kissed your sensitive bud before diving in.

immediately, your back arched off of his mattress when his tongue attacked your poor clit, the back of your hand muffling your scream as your thighs clamped around his head. you were squirming, nails digging into his skin for dear life as he ate you like a man starved. “if only you knew,” rafe spoke, “i’ve been losing sleep over this pussy, ‘been wanting to do this since day fucking one.” you cried out at his words. you’ve wanted him for yourself the second he helped you with your moving boxes, that smug smirk on his face drawing you in since the very beginning.

your hips unintentionally chased his mouth, his hands pinning you down in place. “feels so good!” you whined, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him. the tip of his nose was glistening with your slick, his tongue poking your entrance as lapped away at your juices. he was so good at this, you felt jealousy pooling in your tummy for any other girls who might’ve seen this sight, and felt his skilled tongue. “you taste so fucking good, this is unreal.” he marveled, sucking your clit before rolling your sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips. you gasped sharply, a scream sitting on the tip of your tongue.

rafe continued like this until you attempted to move away from him again. grabbing a pillow from your side, you smothered your face with it as he pushed you over the edge, a high like never before washing over you in waves of pure ecstasy. rafe watched you shake and thrash underneath him, his pussy drunk gaze raking down your trembling form. you moaned, sobbed, and cried until all you could do was whimper in sensitivity. “no more,” you sighed, your body jolting as rafe flicked his tongue continuously over your clit. black dots spotted your vision, your heart beating in your ears.

“..can’t take it, rafe!” you sobbed, tears welling in your eyes as he dismissed your cries. “yes, you can, you’re gonna have to..” just as you were going to ask him what he meant by that, he kept your legs on his shoulders as he stood up, slamming into you without warning. you couldn’t conceal the sound this time, your shriek bouncing off of the walls of rafe’s room. turning his head to see if the door was locked, he cursed under his breath when he saw it wasn’t. “you just want us to get caught, huh?” you shook your head, your nails digging into the flesh of his stomach.

rafe covered your mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you felt him pinch your clit. “just give me one more, baby, that’s all. ‘wanna feel this pussy squeezing around me when i fill you up with my cum.” you had tears running down your cheeks now. embarrassingly enough, rafe felt his climax approaching fast, his cock still aching from cumming not even twenty minutes ago. overstimulated and hysterical, you were spasming around rafe’s length in no time, every ridge of his cock bringing you to your final orgasm of the night, rafe following suit.

he leaned down, grunting praises in your ear while he painted you white inside, your thighs shaking uncontrollably against his chest. not daring to remove his hand away from your face yet, he sucked bruises into the skin of your neck, marking you as his own. you laid limp like on his bed, taking the last few of his thrusts before he stilled completely. you were a fucked out mess to say the least. gently placing your legs down, rafe stayed nestled inside of you as he pulled you against him. unintentionally, you had started tracing shapes into his skin, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead as you two kissed.

“this just made a lot of shit complicated.” he stroked your chin, your glassy eyes flickering over his face. “not really,” you started, “we’ll just be sneaky.” rafe blinked slowly, a groan rumbling from his chest as you clenched around him. “look down, i want you to see something.” you did as he said, a small whine leaving your lips as he pulled out, his cum dribbling out of with ease. “i’m the only one who can have this pussy, you understand?” you nodded, pecking his cheek before wrapping your arms around his neck. “come on, let’s get you back to your room before world war three breaks out in this house.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! A bit of a request for the batboys (Jason, Tim, Dick, and Damian), just something silly.

I recently saw a video of a girl saying her boyfriend's entire name as if he was in trouble only for her to tell him she loved him. It was funny to me at the time, it was also late at night lol.

Soo... How would the boys react to reader suddenly saying their full name out of the blue as if they were in trouble as a prank? 👀👀🤭

Dick is thinking to death about what he might done to earn you saying his full name, so much so the poor man was sweating bullets which each step he took in your direction

Did he miss an anniversary?

Date night?

Hayley’s vet appointment?

He wanted to know badly so that he could think up a way to make it up to you however you wanted. Steal his clothes because they smell like him, he didn’t care, he just didn’t like you using his full name.

So as he looked you deep in the eyes, mentally preparing for whatever left your mouth, only for you to relax your face and kiss his cheek much to his surprise.

‘I love you.’ You told him sweetly as you smiled at him.

‘What?’ Dick said.

‘I love you.’ You repeated, still smiling.

‘That’s…that’s all you’ve called my full, legal government name for, to tell me you love me?’ Dick asked as though he was waiting for a joke that was never going to come.

‘Yep.’ You said.

‘No catch.’

‘None.’

‘Can you stop calling me Richard now and go back to calling me baby, cutie, dickie bird or -preferable- handsome now?’ Dick again asks as he felt a weight lift off of his shoulders and was finally able to breathe again now that his questions could finally be laid to sleep.

You chuckled as you kissed his lip. ‘Sure, whatever you say, handsome.’

Damian is unfazed.

He’s use to his full name being used and he doesn’t exactly feel anything but annoyance that he has to leave the piece he has spent the better half of a week working on, just to answer your call.

Damian loved you without a doubt but he’s not exactly fond of whenever you try to follow along these tasteless ‘trends.’ Though he knows himself well enough to know that he would never stay upset or mad at you for long, you were his weak spot, his treasure forever and always even if this is the things they kept you entertained.

‘I know you’re not saying my full name for any particular reason my treasure.’ He told you rather plainly.

‘And how would you know there isn’t a reason I called for you?’ You replied, crossing your arms over your chest. Damian copied.

‘Because I have a good memory and I haven’t missed any important date, that’s not until next week, that and the fact that I can see the muscles in your face struggling to keep the smile at bay.’ Damian said as he pointed out your biggest sign that you were lying about something.

You always involuntarily smiled when telling a lie the title made it far easier for Damian to know that what you were saying was far from the truth. It was your Achilles heel and Damian knew how to use it to his advantage.

‘I’m not.’ You said, struggling to stop the smile.

‘You are and you’re doing a bad job at it my sweet.’ He replied as he was now the one cockily smiling, knowing he’s got you where he wants you that you couldn’t do anything but crack under his stare.

‘Fine you loser, I only called you in here to say I love you, there happy?’ You asked as you pouted.

Damian walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘All you had to do is say my treasure.’ Was all he said as he spent the rest of the day with you and Titus.

Jason is immediately in front of you within a heartbeat.

He, much like dick, didn’t like it when you use his full name.

You’re his partner! USE THE CUTE NICKNAMES YOU CHOSE FOR HIM INSTEAD! Who’s this Jason Todd? He only responds to Jaybird, jay jay, or baby with the occasional sweetheart from time to time.

‘Chipmunk, can you please tell me want I did wrong?’ Jason asked as he walked into the kitchen where you called him from.

You furrowed your brows. ‘Wrong? I only called you in here to tell you I love you.’ You replied as Jason started at you for a bit before he pinched your side, making you squeal.

‘You’re a little shit, you know that sweetheart.’ Jason asked as he kept pinching your sides, making you giggle and squeal in his hold. ‘Had me all worked up and everything.’ He adds as he starts biting your neck playfully.

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Have mercy!’ You cried, trying to push yourself away from Jason but it was proven nearly impossible when your man was a literal wall of muscle.

‘’All I can hear as the squeaks of a cheeky little mouse.’ Is all Jason said as he continued to tickle, pinch at your sides. He hates it when you call him his full name, it reminded him of lesser then ideal times, sure it sounded far sweeter and loved when it was coming from you rather than theirs, but he’d much rather you call him anything it his full name.

Tim knows what you’re up to the very moment you use his full name.

His detective brain kicks into hyperdrive and goes into the logical explanation as to why the sudden change.

You’ve never used it before, so why now did you use it unless you had seen a cute trend or something that you thought was hilarious on TikTok, or on another social media platform and wanted to try it out for the sake of following whatever was the thing to do.

That or you were genuinely mad and he should at least go talk to you in hopes of de escalating the situation, should it come to it.

‘I love you.’ You said.

‘You’ve said my full name, lured me out of my room, just to say I love you?’ Tim asked with a raised brow as though his heart wasn’t going nuts once again with how much your words easily affected him.

You paused for a brief moment before smiling. ‘Yeah sounds about right.’

Tim sighs but he couldn’t help but feel a smile creep up on his lips. ‘You’re ridiculous sometimes I swear.’ He says under his breath, ‘you almost had me second guessing myself there but I’m glad this is what you called me out for instead.’ He finished as he pressed his forehead against your own, feeling relaxed and clear minded once more.

‘You may say I’m ridiculous but you love it when I keep you on your toes, it’s like a brain exercise in a way.’ You cheekily told him as you kissed his cheek.

‘You call that a brain exercise?’ Tim said. ‘That was barely a brain activity but more like a brain fart if anything.’ He said as you pouted and smacked his bicep, causing him to smile.

‘We can’t all be smart asses like you drake.’ You said and Tim shrugged as he tugged you close.

‘True but you certainly are a pain in the ass.’ Tim replied, which only made you slap his bicep again as he chuckled and you bury your head into his neck.

[leclerc-hs]

ex's and oh's - CL16

pairing: ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your ex-boyfriend are in complicated territory OR your ex fucks you in the drivers seat of his car warnings: 18+, SMUT under the cut, badly translated french (pls correct me), not proofread!!!! word count: 2.4k author's note: ok I just want to sincerely apologize for my long absence on here!!! i know you’ve been waiting for me to finish this for a while now LOL but I've been insanely busy balancing life with two jobs lol. So I'm going to leave this here. I can honestly say it's not my best work and I apologize for that but I really wanted to give y'all something in the mean time. I have a bunch of drafts I plan to work on whenever I get the chance. Love you all!! pls forgive me and don't forget to leave me some comments and thoughts xoxo

THERE WAS NOTHING that could’ve prepared you for this fight. You weren’t drunk, as promised. Although you weren’t sober either. 

You and Charles were...complicated. Exes but…. still, something more. You would always be something more. Your history stretched back almost forever, and that alone made it challenging to stay apart from each other.

There was a point in time when the aftermath of your breakup made it impossible for both of you to share the same space. It invariably led to bitter arguments over seemingly trivial matters. One such instance was during a movie night with your group of friends when you showed up in a sweatshirt that was far too big for your body, obvious that it wasn’t your own. Charles simmered with silent resentment in the corner until he could no longer contain it. The memory etched vividly in your mind, recalling the knots in your stomach throughout the night, feeling the intense burn of Charles’ gaze upon you. He didn’t cast a single glance at the movie that evening.

“Who’s fucking sweatshirt is that?”

“Already fucking other people, hm?”

As you slid into the familiar supple leather seats of his Ferrari, you felt the warmth of the car hug you like a blanket, providing much relief from the contrast of the cold air outside. In the process of slipping into his car, your skirt had ridden up higher than Charles would’ve preferred, your panties nearly exposed if it weren’t for the sheer tights providing more coverage. Did you really go out dressed like that? He felt his hands grip the steering wheel tighter than normal as a waft of your perfume enveloped the car. 

“Did you have fun?” His tone was neutral, but his body posture was tense. He barely turned his head to check if you placed your seat belt on before peeling out from the curb at a speed much too fast.

Sober you would’ve caught onto his attitude almost immediately. But tipsy you, thought nothing of it. 

“Oh Charlie!” You exasperated, the click of your seatbelt filling the car as the radio was turned on the lowest possible volume. “It was so fun!” 

He dropped one of his hands from the wheel, bringing his hand to rub the scruff of his unshaven jaw, as a deep sigh falls past his lips. He was annoyed—more than annoyed. The sole fact that you left him unanswered for hours wasn’t his only issue. What had his muscles all tight and the permanent frown on his face was the images of one of your guy friends being way too close to you. Too close for Charles liking. It was the same guy that his friends had briefly mentioned weeks ago on his boat. 

“Cha, l’aimes-tu toujours?”  Do you still love her? His friends sat around the table; half-eaten food left on their plates. He didn’t answer the question immediately. But everyone knew, subconsciously, that he did.

“Elle et Nick été proches récemment,” Her and Nick have been close lately. The phrase alone made Charles choke on his water. In that moment, he thanked the lord for the sunglasses covering his widened eyes. The burn in his chest began simmering as the conversation continued.

“Oui, ne sont-ils pas partis ensemble l’autre soir?” Yeah, didn’t they leave together the other night?

He couldn’t blame his friends for the discussion. They didn’t know that you two were still in complicated territory. Everyone always figured you two would rekindle, but it’s been so long, no one knew if it would happen anymore.

So, although Charles felt like the air was being sucked out of his lungs, he plastered a big smile on his face while throwing his arm around the back of the chair beside him. “Nick, hm?”

He made a genuine effort to control his anger. Honestly, he really did try. However, as you persisted in discussing the night, particularly when the name ‘Nick’ slipped past your lips, he couldn’t help but lose his composure just a little bit.

His voice took on a lethal edge as he maneuvered the car to the side of the desolate road. The act of driving demanded attention, but his mind was a whirlwind of a million thoughts. He was consumed by anger, it oozed from every pore of his skin as he scoffed and turned to confront you. Your eyes were already fixated on him, and his gaze instantly met yours.

“A-t-il touché à toi?” Did he touch you? His voice rumbled like a low growl, and the green in his eyes was so deep and intense that it masked their actual color, making it nearly impossible to discern the green hue. But you memorized those eyes. His eyes. You were familiar with every nuance of shade that adorned them. His breath was slow and even as he awaited your answer.

The idea drove him insane—the notion of another man laying his hands on you. And even worse, you wanting another man’s hands on you.

For a moment, you found yourself taken aback, only to fully comprehend his tense posture and the sharpness in his tone. Suppressing any inclination to react visibly, you wrestled to maintain a neutral expression, ensuring your lips didn’t betray a hint of a smirk at his jealousy. You didn’t even need to ask who he was. 

“Et est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance s’il l’avait fait?” And would it matter if he did?

The fact that you didn’t need to even address who he was talking about, only caused him to spiral further. As if you were confirming that Nick is the only other option. 

The car felt increasingly smaller as the anger in Charles grew. His knee was bouncing with impatience as he clenched his jaw. Yes. Yes, it fucking mattered. He wanted to shout until his lungs gave out that it mattered. He began to lose the evenness of his breathing pattern, becoming more erratic as you didn’t answer the question.

“Dis-le-moi et nous le découvrirons,” Tell me and we’ll find out. His eyes traced your every movement as your eyes narrowed at him, a scowl forming on your lips. The lips he dreamed about almost every night. 

The silence in the car heightened, and with each passing second, you could feel your heart rate quicken. His gaze remained fixated on your face, unwilling to divert elsewhere. It was as if he were a predator, and you, his prey, captivated under the unrelenting focus of his eyes.

“What? No snarky remarks for me?” C’mon play with me. Although he felt like his chest might crack in two, he needed to mask it. Needed to be nonchalant. 

The tension lingered until you took a sharp swallow, the muscles in your neck twitching, that his eyes shifted, descending to the nape of your neck. They fixated on the subtle gleam of your collarbones, still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat from the night’s dancing. His gaze traced the gentle rise and fall of your breasts with each breath. He wanted to devour you whole.

You felt your thighs clench slightly from his pressuring gaze. He is so fucking hot. His hair in complete disarray from running his hands through it. He wore a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie that made you want to cling your body around him as soon as you saw him.

“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two? His patience was wearing thin. You still haven’t answered his question, and the silence was eating him alive.

You detected a subtle waver in his tone, prompting a softening in your gaze. Your hand gently reached for his face, and he allowed his head to lean ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. It was as if your touch alone had the power to appease the turmoil of anger and jealousy rising within him. 

And as much as you loved to get under his skin like he did yours sometimes. You couldn’t find it in you to provoke him. To cause him any pain. “No.”

The corner of his lips twitched up slightly as your thumb brushed against his jawline. His hands tremble when they reach for you, pulling you out of your seat and across the center console into his lap. “Est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance?” Would it matter? You repeated the question as your legs straddled him. His hands slid around your waist, resting on your backside in a tight grip, so you couldn’t move. 

His mouth formed into a hardened line, as if he forced it to show you just how serious he was when he answered. “Bien sûr que cela a de l’importance,” Of course it matters. 

“Porquoi?” Why?

“Why?” He repeats your question. Scoffing at the fact that you even had to ask him. As if you didn’t already know why.

You suck in a sharp breath as soon as his warm tongue meets with the nape of your neck, trailing hot and wet kisses up until his lips meet yours for a moment before pulling away. 

“Mon coeur t’appartient.” My heart is yours. There was no questioning in his words. “Il a toujours été tien.” It’s always been yours. As those words hung in the air, your breath caught. You love this man. You love this man with every fiber of your being. 

His fingers gripped onto your thighs with an almost bruising intensity, as if he needed to confirm your presence by feeling you in his hands, ensuring you weren’t a figment of his imagination. His nails traced along the thin fabric at the apex of your thigh, before digging them in and tearing them open instantly. You let out an audible moan as his fingers found immediate solace to the damp spot on your underwear. Of course, you were already wet just by looking at him.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He questioned, adding slight pressure to your cotton covered clit. 

You moaned in delight at the contact but did not answer his question. It drove him mad.

His fingers slipped past your underwear, shoving them to the side, and slipping his fingers into your heated core. His fingers curled, hitting the spot you needed him most just right. Your back arched, barely grazing the horn of the steering wheel. Your hands were frantic, reaching for the waistband of his grey sweats as Charles lifted in hips off his seat to help you.

“Oh fuck,” You moaned out loud. The pace of Charles’ fingers had you careening forward with a cry, before he pulled them out of you completely, leaving you shouting “No!”.

“Relax cherie,” He clicked his tongue before pulling your chest flush with his, raising you up an inch to slide his cock right into you. He groaned as your pussy clenched tightly around him, squeezing him so tight he could barely focus on anything else. He held you down against him, letting neither of you move. 

It wasn’t until you fully sat, completely full of him, that he rips the buttons of your shirt open, revealing a lacy ensemble across your chest. He traces the tip of his finger along cup of your breast and says, “Did you wear this on purpose, hm?”

You shook your head, wiggling your hips with a groan. You needed to move, needed to feel the force of his cock into you, but he wouldn’t let you. He just held your hips down as if he was waiting for something.

"You feel so good," He groans. "Squeezing me so tight."

“Cha, please.” You begged, getting agitated at the lack of movement.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He repeats again. A grin stretched across his features at your obvious struggle. The fact that you needed his cock this badly, had him only growing harder. 

You bit your lip as Charles’ fingers sprawled across your neck in a tight grip, pulling your face to his. Close enough that your noses were touching.

“Réponds, et je suis tout à toi.” Answer, and I’m all yours.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me?

You don’t know what held you back from answering before. Because you did. He knew you did. He just needed to hear the words from your lips. Needed the reassurance that this was more than a quick fuck to you.

“Oui!” Yes! You half-shouted, eyes blown wide with need. “I will always love you!”

His hand released your hips, giving you the immediate go-ahead. You wasted no time, working yourself over his cock, moans eliciting from the both of you almost instantly. His hands slid to cup your ass, controlling your movements as he urges you to move faster.

“Mon dieu,” Charles groaned, his fingers dipping into the cup of your lacy ensemble, rolling your nipples between his index finger and thumb. “Je t’aime,” I love you.

The mere utterance of those words had you instinctively squeezing his cock with an intensified fervor, bringing you perilously close to the brink of ecstasy. A sly smirk played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the effect his declaration had on you.

You moved your hips faster, the bounce of your breasts had Charles in a trance before he brought his eyes back to your face, looking you deep in the eyes. “Je t’aime,” He muttered again, bringing his lips to your mouth, swallowing your moans as if they were the oxygen he needed to breathe. “C’mon, give it to me.” He begged, thrusting his hips upward into you as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of his head until you both reach that point of ecstasy you both needed.

His face was bright red, cheeks flushed, as you worked yourself over him in a hurried pace. His sweatshirt no doubt, making him feel like a furnace, as sweat forms near his eyebrow. His eyes were wild, unsure where to look until they met with your eyes. His cock twitching inside of you from the clench of your pussy on him, and the gaze of your eyes.

“Je t’aime!” You shouted, releasing all over him and falling forward in exhaustion onto Charles chest. 

Charles groaned hotly into your ear, his release catching him completely off guard due to the words you uttered. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest as you rested against it. 

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. His fingers caressed the ends of your hair behind your back. The both of you made no attempts to move.

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. You repeat back to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

[clawsdevour]

｡. ˚oikawa husband hcs

wc: 0.6k content warning: post-time skip, fluff, goofy silly husband oikawa, not proofread

っ ᐟ˒𓂂

-Oikawa, the type of husband to love to just hold your hand. Everytime he does though, he always looks at it to admire the ring he picked out for you the moment he knew you were the one. He can't help but smile and kiss the small gem while admiring the luck.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to absolutely love laughing with you. It's not that he likes laughing but more of hearing you laugh with him. He enjoys silly little moments where you get to laugh off a small mistake or just simple tickle fights.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to plan little "slumber parties" with you. He'd go out his way to buy little pouches of face masks and cut up little cucumbers for your eyes. While you're at it, Oikawa would also enjoy baking cookies to eat while you both binge-watch your current favorite shows. He loves doing little fun activities like these because you both get a chance to unwind and relax together.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to probably gossip with you about his volleyball team and old friends like how he met Hinata in Brazil. He loves telling you about his volleyball career as well since it's a big part of who he is and he appreciates how you love every version of him.. especially when you're real invested in the short volleyball gossip sessions.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to love ruining your cute couple selfies by making the goofiest faces mid pic until you get serious. Don't get me wrong, he enjoys taking selfies. But what he enjoys most is the memory behind the photos.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to give you his all. Every small effort he puts into you for instance, making you a simple breakfast. He puts every little thought into every action. Do you like bacon? He'd sizzle a fresh batch for you. Do you like your eggs whole or scrambled with salt and pepper? If you don't he wouldn't cook it that way. He remembers every little detail without you even realizing it.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to give you the best shoulder massages when you're having one of those days. He'd immediately notice your slight shift in energy and tell you to sit down in front of him while his fingers work that setter magic, relieving all the pent up stress and freeing up your tensed muscles while he reassures you with his comforting words.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to love going out on dates with you. He enjoys planning them, calling restaurants, booking flights, and overall going above and beyond for a good time with the one he loves the most. He truly loves to spoil you. He'd enjoy taking you out to foreign countries where you both can bask in the ambiance of new land where it's just you two.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to be a complete fatass for the food you cook. Doesn't matter if you're a bad or a good chef, he genuinely likes that you enjoy cooking for him. Every meal he eats, he can feel the love that you cooked it with every bite that just gets better. He's stuffing his cheeks full like a hamster to the point where he'd accidentally end up choking for water.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to definitely send you reels while he's out for work. He'd for sure be watching them and laugh when reading the comment section to the point where he has to send you the reels and sends screenshots of the comments he found the funniest. Oikawa would quite literally laugh in your dms saying stuff like "LOL HINATA DID THIS ONCE"

masterlist here

[filipinoizukuu]

i headcanon that sakura is like... one of those few people with immense control over their body to the point where its kinda scary.

he says all the time to anyone mentioning it that he's good for nothing but his fists and fighting, but i really believe that he's the kind of guy where like... anything he tries to do, he can get good at it and pick it up REALLY quickly. he's an incredibly fast learner (exhibit a, the pre-noroshi training arc) and also has really good control over his physicality (exhibit b, his signature move where he turns a fall into a handstand kick).

the boys in class 1-1 constantly get him to play games and sports with them because of bonding reasons, and sakura always gets uneasy because he never had anyone to play with growing up. so they all kinda have to teach him every sport except it backfires because he always gets CRAZY GOOD at them REALLY EASILY.

basketball? despite the height disadvantage, it takes less than a day for sakura to master dribbling and passes + he's crazy accurate even from the 3 point mark. volleyball? call him hinata shoyo because he has an INSANEEEE vertical for spiking. baseball? a lot of stupid rules to learn and easy to get wrong, but sakura knows his way around a bat for sure. soccer? absolutely massacres the field no survivors left. anzai is crying in the corner. kiryu (goalie) is dead.

and it pisses them off to no end because sakura has NO BUSINESS being good at all these things! its not even that he's instantly great at anything he tries, but rather because he learns INSANELY QUICKLY and can commit a movement to muscle memory within a couple of days. thank god furin doesnt have a sports festival because nirei is absolutely certain that sakura would sweep the floor with the first years and leave no crumbs.

it applies to other things too. one day sakura either stumbles upon or hangs out with shishitoren and he gets the opportunity to ask tomiyama how he did that insane flip against umemiya. hes really shy to ask bc he did go around acting as if he knew how to emulate choji's crazyass acrobatics before promptly eating shit on the asphalt. choji, obviously always wanting to have fun, teaches sakura some moves

"well it's not as easy as it looks, but i can teach you some moves. you're a good fighter already sakura-chan, so i'll give you some harder ones to start with. don't worry if you can't do—"

sakura nails it in three tries. it's probably one of the top 5 best days of chojis life because it turns into a contest of him busting out a gymnastic trick and trying to see if sakura can replicate it. shishitoren is amazed and confused. togame doesn't know whether to be amused or worried. hiragi winds up getting into their territory just to bring sakura home because if no one intervened sakura would end up joining shishitoren and becoming chojis favorite disciple. it certainly already helps that they have similar fight styles that require insane flexibility, but damn sakura isnt this a bit too much?!@?@

he's still hopeless with technology tho lol. years later and sakura is still horrible at mario kart and can't text for shit. god had to nerf him somehow!

[bbyobbyo]

Everyone thinks Vernon is always at your place because you feed him. While you can agree it's mostly true, there might be more to it than meets the eye.

content: fluff, f2l, mentions of food

wc: 1.6k

notes: me taking a stab at writing lol. i also don't know how tumblr works. inspired by the fact that this man will eat everything in sight regardless if its someone else's food or not. i'd love to cook for him someday ❤

6pm on the dot. You don't even have to check to know who it is.

"Hey, Sol." You look up from the pot you've been stirring to greet your visitor who let himself in. Your apartment's passcode was practically muscle memory at this point.

"Hey, smells good in here," he comments while taking off his shoes, "I mean — it always does but you get it." You give him a little chuckle in response.

You hadn't been friends with Hansol for very long, but when a mutual friend decided to introduce you two to each other, you instantly hit it off. The whirlwind of a friend group you now shared was filled with strong personalities and quirks: Seungcheol was the self-proclaimed "dad" of the group but you'd swear he would whine and complained more than the rest of them combined. Seungkwan, the one who always had a sassy quip to share, but would be the first to cry at Disney movie nights. There was Jihoon, who showed his love exclusively with acts of service but is so tsundere he would rather die to admit he had any kind of emotions besides annoyance. Not to mention Soonyoung, who made it his mission to convince everyone that he was a tiger. No one knew how this bit started but everyone finds it entertaining nonetheless.

Amongst them all, Hansol was just a dude. A normal guy. As funny as it sounds, that's what made you two click so well. Not that he didn't have his own aspirations (and his own fair share of quirks!), but he had always been the sort of person that was along for the ride. Although a little bit clueless at times, you could tell his heart was in the right place.

"I brought dessert, by the way," He plops a plastic bag onto the kitchen counter, his cheekbones pushed all the way out in a smug grin, "hope you like it."

"Aww, Sol you didn't have to!" delight in your eyes as you wipe your freshly washed but still wet hands on your pants and scurry over to peek inside the bag. "Oh my god, this is that tiramisu from that bougie place, isn't it?! I heard the wait times were, like, over an hour. You're insane for this, thank you so much!" You're practically beaming as you put the dessert in refrigerator, promptly turning around to give him a hug. His hands automatically reach around your back as you bury your face into his chest. Man, he will never get tired of the way you smile at him over the smallest things.

"You're always feeding me, so it's like, the least I can do really" he murmurs as you let go, his own smile spreading across his face when you look up at him.

Right. Your relationship with Hansol was rooted in the fact that you both loved food. Cooking food in your case, and eating it for him. It was a match made in heaven, really. In the beginning stages of your friendship, you always noticed how he would always ask for bites of other peoples' food, the way he would eye a bag of snacks if anyone dared to bring them out, the "you gonna finish that..?" that would inevitably follow the conclusion of every meal. The guy was a human trash can with a black hole in place of his stomach. So really, was anyone surprised when Hansol practically attached himself to you that day you brought in those homemade baked goods for the friend group?

After that day, the rest was history. His insatiable hunger and the lack of his own cooking skills (poor dude would be consuming toast everyday if he didn't eat out) made him worship the ground you walked on whenever you fed him. In turn, his enthusiasm for your cooking and willingness to give honest feedback on your experimental recipes made him a regular guest at your apartment, much like today.

Hansol would be lying if he said he didn't feel like he was taking advantage of you sometimes, no matter how much you insisted that it wasn't the case. He always tried his best to chip in for your groceries or pick up ingredients when you didn't have time. He didn't even mind the way his friends teased him for being at your place more often than his own or the fact that you gained your own nickname among the guys as his personal chef. He was happy with your little arrangement, and it also helped that you were so easy to be around.

"Hey, can you help me set the table?" you say as you push a stack of plates and tableware toward him. Your attention is quickly pulled away again as you go to plate the food you've been laboring over the past hour.

The routine is a familiar one: sitting down across from each other with a wide array of dishes and sides in between. You always make him take the first bites; "I already taste tested everything as I was cooking, silly!" you would say, eyes focused and hands tucked under your chin eagerly awaiting his reactions and thoughts.

Today's meal was a hit, as it usually is. Hansol could count less than a handful of times that he didn't love your food, and even then he still ate everything despite you telling him that it was okay if he didn't finish it.

The next part of the routine, however, rivals even the food in his eyes. Both of you are glued to the chairs chatting away, even when all the food is long gone and empty plates remain on the table. Between you two, there was always something to talk about. Tangents turn to into more tangents turn into "remember when we…" turn into "we should totally do…" Hours can pass by before one of you even remembers that there was dessert in the fridge, and even more hours before either of you get up again to go wash the dishes. When that happens, you simply carry the conversation to the kitchen except this time with the gentle running of sink as background noise.

You were like a breath of fresh air from the chaos of his main friend group and someone he felt entirely comfortable with. Except lately he's been wanting to see you more and more. He would catch himself staring at his phone hoping a text from you would pop up, asking him to come over again.

He's embarrassed to admit that you have never hung out one-on-one outside of the walls of your apartment. It was an unspoken boundary that you two saw each other under the pretense of food, a boundary that he increasingly would like to cross.

You're not even looking at him, attention focused on scrubbing away at the pot in your hand, still talking about that awkward encounter with your neighbor yesterday. But the longer he stares at you, Hansol thinks to himself — have you always been this pretty? He traces every part of your form, from the micro expressions you make with your eyebrows as you talk, to noticing the little strands of hair by your face that escaped the ponytail you put it in, and the way your left sleeve is slowly slipping down your arm and in danger of getting soaked.

"...so screw me if I thought that it was none of his busine— Sol...?"

Before he even knew what he was doing he found himself abandoning his plate drying duty and sliding behind you at the sink, your back pressed against his chest as he grabbed your sleeve and gingerly rolled it up your arm once again. Just as he thinks you can't get any more gorgeous, his world stops when you turn your head around and he finds your face inches from his. The way your eyes glisten into his own makes the split second feel like an eternity before pulling away.

"S-sorry if I scared you, just didn't want your sleeve to get wet." adding a nervous chuckle to the end as he returns to the stack of tableware he has yet to dry.

"N-no! It's okay! Thank you for that!" you stammer back, trying not to look him in the eyes to hide the very obvious blush that spread on your cheeks. "Ahaha... yeah so anyways, what was I saying again?" Without missing a beat, he replies "you were talking about how your nosy neighbor thinks we're dating because I come over so often."

"Oh, haha, right..." your voice is barely above a whisper, a chuckle dies in your throat as you realize you've been scrubbing an already clean pot for 5 minutes now. You sigh as you turn off the water and start drying off your hands to put the dishes back in their places.

"I don't mind," he says after a thoughtful pause. It takes a second for you to register the words. "Sorry, what?"

"I don't mind if he thinks we're dating."

You feel like the hearing comprehension part of your brain just reset. "Wait, wha-"

"I think it would be kinda nice actually... if we dated."

After a second too long of silence from you, he was the one with panic with his eyes this time. "B-but only if you want to! Shit, uh, sorry I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. Just forget I said anyth-"

He's interrupted by your arms snaking around his neck. "You're hopeless, Sol", you say as you press a light kiss to his lips. "I think it would be nice if we dated, too."

[moider-time]

Y'know what I want? I want sick Bruce Wayne.

I want a Bruce that babies his kids when they're sick. He goes all out. 6'4 muscle-bound Jason Todd is getting tucked into bed with a kiss on the forehead to check his temperature and whines if Bruce forgets.

As good as his memory is, Bruce can't exactly remember what Thomas and Martha used to do when he was sick. They had a routine but the intricacies of it constantly escape him. As little as that may be, it does pang every now and again that he's forgetting them, forgetting how they loved him. He doesn't want that for any of his kids.

So he babies them, treats them like the little kids he knows they aren't and rarely if ever got to be. He deals with any vomit, tears or just general irritation that comes with being sick. It gets to point where when the kids are sick and Bruce isn't home, they can barely function.

Dick: THIS IS IT- THIS IS THE END

Wally: dude you just have a cold?

Dick: JUST A- JUST A COLD?!? WALLY, ARE YOU INSANE?? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MANAGE WITHOUT MY HOT CHOCOLATE AND HOME MADE BUNNY MARSHMALLOWS??!?

Wally: ok one, bunny marshmallows? adorable. and two, i've seen you walk off a fractured collarbone, two bruised ribs and a twisted ankle???

Dick: ....yeah but the marshmallows

Wally:

But Bruce? Oh when Bruce is sick, he powers through. But when he's so sick he considers himself a liability, he curls up in a small, dark room like a pregnant cat. It's practically instinct for him – when he's compromised like that, he needs to be in a place that he's knows is safe.

Very Sick Bruce also goes into Mama Bear Mode. He wants his kids in his sight at all times or he's practically inconsolable. If they're not with him, then they might be in danger, anything could happen – how can he protect them if they're not there? Just anxiety out of the wazoo.

I can see him trying to drag his 7 kids into one room so he can keep an eye on his babies.

Damian: baba we cannot all possibly fit-

Cass: -we will

Damian:

Damian: who's going first?

The kids do make things more comfortable. Fluffing his pillows, getting him tea and making sure he has his stuffies. Bruce appreciates it but he just says that all he needs are his kids. That always has them sobbing.

(happy holidays to my cold twin @bruciemilf i was inspired by our mutual sickness lol)

[mismatched-sockss]

Getting lost in your touch

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x wife!Reader » Word count: 4,7k » Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, minimal amount of plot with a dash of fluff, established relationship (married), sub!Spencer and softdom!reader in the beginning, switch Spencer and reader, reader is a little bratty at one point ig, both a little mean for a short moment, dry humping, begging, riding / cockwarming, teasing, handjob, nipple play, hand on throat but no choking, biting, unprotected p in v, creampie, pet names (my love, baby); bad writing? not sure how i feel about parts of this; » A/N: finally done! took me long enough lol; written with postprison!Spencer in mind, but feel free to imagine what ever season / era you prefer, there is no timeline stuff or anything mentioned (only being in a relationship for six years); at first i didn't want to do more than two bingo fields per fic, but i'm afraid i won't get far if i stick to that :D, didn't think i would be this slow when i started, but sometimes my brain hates me; please let me know if i forgot any warnings; enjoy!

⚶ bingo masterlist | masterlist ⚶

The sound of the door falling shut made you jump out of your skin and you spilled some of the iced tea you were pouring yourself. “Shit”, you cursed in a whisper. You put the container down and grabbed a kitchen towel to clean up the mess so the counter wouldn't get sticky.

Except for the muffled thud of a bag falling to the floor and shoes getting kicked off, the apartment stayed silent. This, paired with the force the door had been closed, you already knew what you would find when you'll walk into the living room and your heart sank at the thought.

You quickly drank the small bit that had actually found its way into the glass and hurried out of the kitchen. The sight you were met with, was exactly what you had imagined. Your husband sat on the couch, leaning over with his face buried in his hands, his shoulders hanging low. Your heart hurt for him, seeing him like this. It wasn't a sight you were met with every time he came home, but it happened often enough as it was.

You slowly walked over and when you were close enough you reached out, brushing your fingertips through Spencer's hair. “Hey”, you breathed out, moving your hand over the back of his neck and to his shoulder where you let it rest.

He slowly lifted his head, a tired smile on his lips that didn't nearly reach his eyes. “Hey....” His hand reached for yours on his shoulder and he held on to your wrist, drawing soft circles over your pulse with his thumb. For a minute neither of you said a word and you just looked into each others eyes.

You lifted your other hand to cup his cheek and gently brushed your thumb over his cheekbone. He leaned into the touch and with a shaky breath Spencer laid his hands on your hips, pulling you between his legs so he could bury his head in you chest, hiding away from all the cruelty of this world he had to face every day. You hugged him close, one hand tangled in the curls on the back of his head and you softly scratched over his scalp with your nails.

“That bad?”, you asked softly. He silently nuzzled his head deeper into you, his arms tightening around your waist with his hands bunching up the back of your tank top in his fists. This was answer enough; you wouldn't pry any further if he didn't want to talk about it right now. You leaned your head down, pressing your lips to the crown of his head and kept them there.

For a moment the both of you just stayed like this, silent and in each others embrace, as you tried to hold him together, tried to shield him from harm – even if only from his own mind and the painful memories – as best as you could. After a while the tension in his shoulders started to leave under your touch, his muscles slowly relaxing as you softly rubbed your hand over his back and a deeps sigh left his lips.

Spencer's hold on you loosened and he moved his hands up and back down over your sides, gently squeezing your waist then. He turned his head and started to plant kiss after kiss on your chest. His nose was pressed flat against your skin as he slowly worked his way over the hem of your top and your décolleté, up to your collarbones.

Your breath hitched and your heart began to beat faster, your skin getting warmer with every kiss.

He leaned back and pulled you with him onto the couch by your waist, keeping his lips on your skin and as he moved, he continued leaving open mouthed kisses higher and higher over the side of your neck until he reached your jaw.

As soon as you lowered yourself on his thighs, straddling his hips, you turned your head to capture his lips in a passionate yet gentle kiss. You moved your hands to the back of his head and tangled your fingers in his hair, slightly tugging on the strands which made him groan in return.

With a deep inhale you pulled back just enough that your noses were almost touching, your hands on the sides of his neck right under his ears and you could feel his steady heart beat. Your fingers were buried in his hair and you played with the strands at the base of his head.

“What do you need, baby?”, you asked him, keeping your voice low; soft and sweet. When he answered you, he did so immediately and before you even had said the final word. He matched your volume, and only said one single word:

“You.”

With a small smile on your lips you brushed the tip of your nose against his, gently nudging it. “I know, my love”, you cooed and kissed his lips. “How do you need me?” You slightly leaned back so you could see his whole face. Spencer just looked at you, not saying a word, only darting his gaze between your eyes.

The look in his eyes almost brought you to tears. Vacant of the usual light shimmering in his big brown eyes, they almost seemed dull and empty. Instead helplessness had taken its place. So lost, heartbroken and full of sorrow.

Tears started to well up in Spencer's eyes, gathering on his lower lashes until a single tear slipped out of the corner of his eye, rolling down his cheek. You gently took his face in your hands and stroked your thumbs over his skin, brushing the tear away.

It broke your heart to see your husband like this. His job was more than hard, so incredibly challenging and demanding on both his body and mind. He didn't tell you much about what he had to deal with, only occasionally opening up more when he needed to get it off his chest, when it got too much. Even then he didn't get in to it too deeply, wanting to spare you the gruesome details. You already knew enough as it was; fiction – all those crime and cop shows or movies – didn't paint the best picture compared to reality, but you had consumed your fair share of true crime in your lifetime. So even if you couldn't imagine how he was feeling exactly and what kind of toll it really took out on him, you could imagine what he was seeing.

Trying to keep your own tears at bay as you were hurting for and with him, you closed your eyes and kissed his forehead. You let your lips linger before you pulled back again.

“Want me to take care of you?” You slightly tilted Spencer's head back and planted a small kiss on his lips, then a second one. “Nice and slow? That what you want?”

“Please...” His voice broke and there were so many emotions behind this one word, so much hurt and want and need and desperation. So much love for you and trust in you.

You kissed him again, firmer this time and breathed out an okay against his lips as you looked deep in his eyes. “I've got you, baby.”

With a relieved sigh that sounded a lot like thank you he relaxed more into your touch and sank deeper into the back of the couch. Your lips immediately attached to his again and his hands moved over your back to pull you even closer until your chest was pressed flush against his.

While deepening the kiss, you moved your hands down his neck and to his chest, then up to his shoulders and under his suit jacket. You pushed it over his shoulders and helped him to take it off, more or less carelessly throwing it to the other side of the couch. Before you went on to loosen his tie, you pressed your fingertips into the muscles of the crook of his neck and shoulders, kneading the tense tissue for a short moment and took a mental note when he hummed in content to give him a proper massage later.

The knot of his tie opened up with one tug, but you didn't care to fully remove it and started to undo the small buttons of his dress shirt. As soon as you had worked your way down a few you broke the kiss, leaving you both panting and gasping for air, and planted soft kisses along his jaw.

Spencer let his head fall back, giving you more space to make your way down his neck. He took in a sharp breath when he felt your teeth grazing over is collarbone. You gently nibbled on his skin, flattening your tongue over it to soothe the spot. When you opened the last button you let your hands glide over his stomach up to his chest, pushing his shirt to the sides.

You caught his lips again and you felt him getting hard under you; after slightly adjusting your position, you started grinding against him in a slow and steady rhythm. Both of you moaned into each other's mouths at the contact and he slid his hands down your back until they lay on your ass; he gently squeezed the soft flesh and pulled your hips closer. You could feel how wet you were as your clit effortlessly slid over the fabric, your panties already soaked and you had barely started.

For a while you just moved with and against each other – grinding, touching, kissing – before you let your hands wander down with a purpose. The rattling of his belt buckle as you opened it didn’t even reach your ears, drowned out by the soft whimpering moans that left Spencer’s throat.

With his help you managed to pull his pants down enough so you could wrap your hand around his erection, eliciting a groan from him. “Oh, fuck.”

You began to stroke his cock with slow movements, taking your time with every pump of your fist. Every whimper, every small whine, shot waves of heat through your body and right to your core. You desperately wanted to finally feel him in you, but you held back. Your plan was to take it slow; you promised him slow.

And if he had taught you one thing, it was to hold back. You could hear his voice in the back of your head, purring in the sweetest tone every time he drove you crazy with endless teasing: “Patience is a virtue, my love.” You wondered if Spencer would regret it – even just a tiny bit – by the time you were done with him tonight.

It didn't take long before he buried his face in your shoulder, panting and moaning against you neck as he held on to your hips with a tight grip. "Need to be inside you", he sighed, his warm breath fanning over your skin.

You hummed with a smile on your lips. “Let's get you more comfortable first, hm?”

Before you got up from his lap, you gave his cock a few more pumps and swiped the pad of your thumb over his head; his hips jolted up and he groaned.

A small laugh in adoration left your lips and you pressed your lips against his jaw for a quick peck. You shuffled back and got up, bringing him with you by his hands and after he shrug off his shirt you took his hand again and led him to the bedroom.

Spencer got on the bed and sat against the headboard after a tilt of your head, taking off his pants before he settled down. You took off your own, your top already discarded somewhere on the floor in the living room, leaving you in only your bra now.

You crawled over the bed to take your spot in his lap again, only this time you weren't separated by too many layers of fabric when your pussy met his cock; your lips parting over his shaft as if to invite him in.

“Fuck- you're so wet."

"All for you, baby. Always."

His hands found their way to your hips; you lifted them and reached down to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance. Painfully slow you sank back down again, trying to prolong him filling you up for as long as possible. Breathy moans leaving both your throats, the sensation almost overwhelming.

Spencer tried to guide you down faster with his hold on your hips, but you stopped instead and shook your head in disapproval – yet still with a smile on your lips – as you pulled his hands from your body. A soft whimper left his lips, but when he nodded you let go of his hands and sank down further until he was buried in your core to the hilt.

You parted your legs further, taking his cock even deeper; a short breathy moan left your lips when his full length was buried in your walls, your clit brushing deliciously against his pelvis.

Instead of starting to lift your hips, you stayed just as you were, only moving your hips in a slow grind a couple of times – barely noticeable. You leaned in to press your chest against his and captured his lips in a heated kiss.

His hands roamed over your body, not leaving a single inch of your skin untouched. Only when he cupped your breasts over the fabric and gently squeezed them did you break the kiss. He pulled the cup of your bra down, latching his lips immediately around your exposed nipple.

With a soft moan you watched him and reached behind you to unclasp your bra; it landed by the rest of your discarded clothes. You tangled your fingers in Spencer's hair and slightly tugged on the strands to pull him back and face you again.

For a moment you just let your gaze wander over his face until you stopped at his mouth. This time when you leaned in to kiss him, it wasn't as desperate as the last one; but slow and almost gentle, pouring all your love into it.

And after what felt like an eternity to him, he couldn't take it anymore and he pulled back. "Please, baby, I- Ah, fuck, I need you to move."

"But I am moving", you trailed off, voice as sweet as sugar, and barely holding back a smirk. You ground against him, in just the slightest movement and to underline your claims more, you let your hands wander over his chest and stomach; fingertips sliding became nails softly scratching over the skin the deeper you went. Spencer arched his back into you, goosebumps rising on his skin.

"Ah- you know what I mean", he said breathless, his eyelids fluttering as he held your gaze.

Feigning to think about it you hummed, moving your hands from where your bodies met to his sides, careful not to tickle him. “Do you mean... like this then?” You smiled innocently, stayed seated and intentionally clenched around him once.

He sucked in a sharp breath and groaned loudly, his hips jolting up so hard and sudden, you had to hold on to his sides to not lose your balance.

"I swear to god, if you don't start moving soon, I-", he hissed before he stopped to swallow hard, but he didn't finish vocalizing his threat; the pleading tone in his voice had changed, turning deep and hoarse – assertive –, adding to the fire that was burning brighter and brighter in his eyes. The promise of an inevitable payback for your bitter-sweet torment still on his tongue, but he didn't need to say it out loud for you to know and understand.

You bit on the tip of your tongue, again smiling innocently at him but barely concealing your amusement. "What happens then?”, you inquired, knowing, it would rile him up even more. “Now you've made me curious."

"Come on, please. Want to feel you." There it was again, the whiny, pleading and breathless tone you couldn't get enough of.

To be honest, you had to hold back quite a bit by now, wanted nothing more than to satisfy his wish and ride him until the both of you were falling apart, but teasing him was just too much fun, too tempting; and you also knew, all of this would help to take his mind off of everything a bit longer, which was still your main goal.

You leaned in to kiss him. When he raised his chin and tried meeting you half way, you slightly pulled back again, just out of reach. The prettiest sound fell from his lips, a whimper all needy and desperate and whiny; his grip on your hips became firmer and his nails were digging into your skin as he tried pulling you impossibly closer, trying to bury himself deeper into your warmth. At this rate, there would be some pretty bruises on your hips by tomorrow morning.

When you leaned back in, your lips were barely touching the corner of his mouth. You left a feathery kiss after the other along his jaw and moved your hands over his chest to hold on to his shoulders, indicating you would give him what he wanted from you, what he was begging for.

The grin that stretched your lips was a little taunting, a little mean, when he let his head fall back with a whimper on his lips and his hands dug even deeper into your flesh. Oh, Spencer will hate you for what you were about to do...

You gently grazed your teeth on his jaw, softly nibbling on the skin and slowly raised your hips all the way, then slid down his length just as slow. His breath hitched, shaking. His jaw went slack and you watched as Spencer's eyes rolled back, a deep and long moan leaving his lips. When you repeated the motion for a second time, he relaxed more against the headboard and closed his eyes.

You did it a third time.

And then you stopped.

Spencer's head snapped back up as soon as he realised you wouldn't keep going. The look in his eyes made a shiver run down your spine and when your walls clenched this time, you didn't do it on purpose. The tight grip on his cock and the fact that you were biting down on your lip to keep from smirking at him, failing to contain the giggle bubbling up in your throat at the same time, made him sit back up straight and wrap his arms around your; his hands spreading over your shoulder blades and lower back. You saw a glint flash in his eyes, saw the moment a switch flipped in him and you felt giddy with excitement.

You squealed when he flipped you over without a warning and you giggled harder, which quickly turned to a moan when he buried his face in the crook of your neck and bit into the flesh. Another moan right after, high-pitched, when he snapped his hips hard against yours in just one quick hard thrust. You wrapped your arms around is torso, clinging onto his shoulders.

“So you think that's funny, huh?”

“Uh-hu”, you sighed out near his ear with a smile on your lips, panting.

He lifted himself up, supporting his weight by leaning on his arm next to your head, and slid his right hand up your body; from the spot he had gripped into your hips just moments before, over your side and stomach, your sternum and higher until his palm was on your throat. You tilted your head back, making more room for his hand and you swallowed hard, waiting for his next move; heart skipping a beat in anticipation, waiting and hoping for the familiar gentle squeeze on the sides of your neck and his fingers pressing into the delicate skin.

With a tight grip on your jaw Spencer pulled your head back to face him. He cocked his eyebrow when he saw you pout, a taunting smirk starting to form on his lips. He nodded his head and pursed his lips, before the smirk came back. “I'll show you funny.”

Your stomach flipped and your heart started pounding in your chest, threatening to crack out of your ribcage. Fuck. You should have known he would turn it around and play it like that. You had it coming, really.

He leaned back and sat up, perching on his heels as he wrapped your legs around him and kept a firm hold on the insides of your thighs; angling his hips just right, he stared to lazily roll his hips, hitting right at the first thrust that spot deep in you that made you see stars.

Both of you moaned in unison and you watched him close his eyes, his head fell back; relishing the sensations of finally being able to thrust into you. That blissed out look on his face was almost enough to send you over the edge right this moment.

He kept the slow pace for a while, but you needed more, growing more impatient with every drag of his cock against your walls. “Faster... please”, you whined.

Spencer chuckled and looked down at you. “Aw, can't handle what you are dishing out, baby?”, he mocked with a playful tone in his voice. You simply shook your head, pouting and soft whimpers leaving your lips. Despite the allusion that he wouldn't do it, he picked up the pace, snapping his hips harder and faster against yours.

As he bend down to lean over you he let go of your thighs; his right hand stayed on you and slid higher over your skin until he cupped your breast – gently massaging and playing with your nipple – and his left landed next to you, so he could hold himself up. His lips latched on to your other breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth and flicking his tongue against it.

The added stimulation set your body even more on fire and your walls clenched around his cock; that familiar knot in your stomach began to build and tighten rapidly, making you feel a little dizzy already. “'mso close...”, you moaned breathless.

With a last lick over the hardened peak, he lifted his head and caught your eyes. “Yeah? You wanna cum?” You nodded eagerly, holding his gaze. “What if I don't let you?”, he mused with a one sided smirk.

“No. No, please- I- ah fuck”, you started to babble, slightly panicked, “I-I- need to cum so bad, please, please let me cum! Wanna cum for you, Spencer.”

He caught your lips in a kiss and slid his tongue between them when you gasped, too distracted to notice his hand letting go of your breast and moving between your bodies, his fingers quickly finding your clit.

It didn't take long before you weren't able to kiss him back, moaning against his mouth instead as your jaw went slack. “Oh fuck, yes, like that. Like that, don't stop. Ah, shit!”

Your back arched into him and you threw your head back, deeper into the pillows, as your vision got white and your orgasm hit you, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Spencer didn't give you much time to come down from your high. He buried his face in your neck and slid his arms under your back, holding you in a tight grip to him.

Your eyes rolled back, nothing but strangled noises leaving you and you held on to him as if your life depended on it as he pounded into you at a brutal pace now, chasing his own release. The bed-frame was creaking from the force and if you would care, you might be worried that it would break.

Right before it got too much for you, your body slowly protesting against the continued stimulations and was screaming for a break, his rhythm faltered and with a couple of last hard thrusts he held onto you even tighter.

“F-fuck!” A long and deep groan left his lips, muffled by your neck, as his hips stilled and he kept himself buried as deep as he could in your core as he came, his cock twitching with every wave of cum, his body shuddering as he collapsed above you.

After a minute or two for you to catch your breaths, Spencer turned his head to plant a lingering kiss below your ear and lifted himself up just enough to slide down your body – pulling out in the process and you gasped at the sudden emptiness; with an exhausted sigh he settled down, his head comfortably resting on your chest and his arms pressed to your sides, softly stroking his thumbs over the sensitive skin above your waist.

You hummed in content and tangled the fingers of your right hand in his hair, slightly dampened now, and placed your left hand on his arm, drawing circles with your thumb on his skin of your own. He hummed, relaxing even more against you as you played with his hair.

He moved his arm to take your left hand, holding it in his, resting both your hands on your stomach. Lost in his thoughts he let his thumb glide over your ring finger, moving the filigree silver ring around.

“How are you feeling?”, you asked in a soft voice.

For a moment he kept silently playing with the ring on your finger, then he pulled your hand closer to him, pressing a kiss over your wedding band. Your heart skipped a beat at the sweet gesture, a small smile stretching on your lips. His lips lingered for a few seconds before he laid your intertwined hands back on your stomach. Spencer turned his head to look at you and lifted himself up to lean on his forearm. You moved your hand out of his hair, to the back of his neck instead, when he came closer.

His eyes darted back and forth between yours and you let out an almost inaudible sigh, relieved when you met his gaze and saw the look in his eyes was a lot softer than when he had come home, the light was back in them, and his features were more relaxed. “Better.”

He shifted his weight and moved up to close the distance. A small smile stretched on his lips as he hovered over you. He let go of your left hand and cupped your cheek, his fingers sliding into your hair and he stroked his thumb over your cheek.

“I love you”, he breathed out before he captured your lips in a slow and deep kiss that made your heart flutter and sent a wave of butterflies through your whole body.

Six years with this man and he still made you feel like this; all giddy and blushing, kicking your feet and twirling your hair around your finger, toes curling with even the smallest kiss and brush of his lips against yours, heart skipping a beat every time you saw him and endless butterflies fluttering in your stomach that never calmed down and would never die.

You sighed into the kiss and pulled him closer, melting into him as much as he melted into you. When the kiss broke, Spencer didn't move too far away. He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, pressed his lips to yours again for a quick kiss and rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

“I love you too”, you whispered and tilted your head slightly to plant another kiss on his lips. With a smile he lifted his head and for a moment you just looked at each other, drowning in the others eyes.

You lifted your hand and brushed a strand of his curls behind his ear, the tips of your fingers moving over his temple in a feathery light touch. “Why don't we order some food, get cleaned up in the meantime and then just stay on the couch, cuddle and watch a movie or something. Your pick.”

“Food or TV?”

“Both. What ever you want, love.”

» A/N 2: we're getting closer but my bingo card is kind of all over the place, will we ever see a filled line before the deadline? :'D

[nymphomatique]

special affair

dbf!miguel o’hara x fem!reader

art credit: _insomniac_red_ on ig. pictures are for mood setting, reader has no specific race or physical descriptions.

cw: a lil angsty, this is just shameless smut im sorry guys i don’t know what came over me, daddy kink, dbf!miguel <3, unspecified age gap but reader is legal, rough sex, squirting, unprotected sex, miguel is not a good man, conflicted reader, creampie, lowkey breeding kink, degrading language, choking/breath play, face slapping, spitting, mentions of oral (m), overstimulation, crying/dacryphillia, pubic hair grinding? lmao idk, reader is alluded to being in sub space. not proofread lol. 18+ only.

wc: ~1.5k

❤︎ an: hi my loves!! this is a sorta part two to this drabble, but can be read as a stand alone one shot. tbh i wrote this w my pussy.. i’m ovulating rn i’m so ashamed of myself 😔 nevertheless, enjoy! if you guys want more don’t hesitate to lmk!!

from that first night he fucked you from behind, you knew you strayed too far from the status quo in your life, you’re at the point of no return. that night, when he finished pounding you from behind and defiling you further with his seed all over your back and ass, you had laid in that position— spent and on your stomach- for the rest of the night, silently sobbing. you had betrayed your father, that much you were aware of the day you started rubbing at yourself meekly in the dead of the night thinking about his best friend.

you had long come to terms with that guilt, accepting whatever image of a burning inferno there is in the afterlife. what you cannot come to terms with, is the fact that he- miguel- had actually fucked you, indulged in what you considered your own taboo thoughts, ripping them from page and making your crude thoughts a sick reality. the worst part of this all is that amidst it all, the mental beratement, the nights you spent crying, the sick feeling the memories of miguel’s cock stretching you absolutely thin, showing you a climax like no other— you want to hate yourself for it, for being weak. for being such a bad girl. but you didn’t know why your body decided to betray your brain, the physical craving for the older man’s body possessing you whole. you can’t bear this feeling, holding it up inside you and trying to keep it at bay. fuck- you needed to talk to someone, you had to, even if it’s the last person you want to speak to.

nevertheless, you end up two houses down, sniffling and heaving in the dead of the night, knocking the door as hard as your trembling hands would let you. the door swings open and at the sight of him you keen, your body aching at the sight of the burly muscles covered in sun kissed skin. dark brown hair streaked with grey at the temples. a slight five o’clock shadow, he must not have shaved this morning. and then you look into those eyes, swallowing you up whole and you begin to tear up again. miguel is silent, leaning against the door with messy hair, glazed eyes and clad in boxers, and boxers only. fuck, you shouldn’t have come here.

“I-.. Miguel, it hurts,” you sob quietly, aflame with shame and embarrassment at how little resolve you had. He grabs your face with his warm hands and you’re trembling now, ready for him. your lips ghost for a moment before he breathes out. “i’m not a good man, sweetheart. if you don’t say no, i’m gonna break you.” he sounds sincere with his words and his eyes go stern. you wish you had some self of self control, or maybe having better discernment. but the only thing you say to him only confirms what you already knew about yourself; you’re a terrible fucking person. 

“violate me.”

your lips are smashed against each other, tongues dancing and it feels so good to be in his embrace again. your tears fall down your cheeks, meeting at the junction of your mouths in a pool of saliva. miguel groans and you know why, remembering what he had said to you the last time.

“i like when you cry.”

you’re grabbed up at the hips, legs wrapped around a thick torso, pressed up against a firm chest and a heavy cock. the moments up to the bedroom are cloudy, drunk off his lips against yours. you come to slightly when cold plush sheets hit your back and a pair of lips leave yours. you whine, yearning for his touch again. he looks down at you, bringing your right foot to his mouth, he licks lightly up the sole- kissing the ball of your foot before he leans down, caging your between his elbows, face to face.

“you gonna be good for your daddy?” he asks softly, kissing between the bridge of your nose once. 

“y-yes,” you breathe out with a slow nod. 

“mmm. gonna let me violate this tight little body too?” he asks, still soft in tone and you think you’re gonna go crazy by the end of the night. “yes, daddy,” you murmur, lost in his eyes. 

“sick fucking little girl. but that’s how i like it,” he chuckles, kissing you softly before getting up stripping you bare.

“letting your daddy undress you like a good girl. so obedient f’me,” he coos at you, touching you softly and you’re almost in tears. you need him. and you let it be known. a lone tear falls down your cheek and you mewl, “n-need you to make it better down there, daddy.”

his large hand engulfs you cheek, thumb wiping your tear softly before squishing your face, putting his tear stained thumb in your mouth. “you think you’re a big girl now, hmm? telling your daddy what to do?” you look up at him teary eyed, suckling his thick finger.

“you take what i give you, when i give it to you.” he squeezes you cheek a little harder before softly slapping your cheek and you squeak at the contact. a rough laugh leaves miguel’s mouth at your reaction. “you have no idea how bad i’m gonna treat you, baby.”

you’re non verbal at this point, mouth agape and leaking saliva down your jaw seeping into the sheets and the junction of your neck and chest. a hand slaps your cheek again, you’ve lost how many that is now. “i fucked you stupid already?” miguel laughs, hard thrusts sending you flying up the bed. his hands on your hips bring you down back to him each time, poking you right in that sweet spot in your pussy. you’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve head, body wracked and numb with pleasure. throat hoarse from the near-violent throat fuck he gave you.

a glob of spit hits your forehead and you groan a bit. the one thing you’re sure of is that you look a goddamned mess. a crude picture of the activity you’ve been partaking in for the past two hours. a hand leaves your hip to wrap around your neck and squeeze roughly, making you gasp for air, your body finally moving.

“there we go, got you moving now. thought i fucked you to sleep for a second.” 

your eyes are glossy, at the lack of air and building pressure. your hand meekly wraps around his wrist as he fucks into you. you know you shouldn’t like the way he toys with you like this, waking the line of torment and pleasure with no care in the world. but you do. and you can’t deny it anymore.

“you’re tightening up on me again. you gonna cum for me again?” miguel asks you, and he laughs after knowing you can’t even answer him. “sick little girl. you like it when i choke you? make you feel weak? worthless?” 

it’s barely audible, but the moan you let out vibrates in your neck and miguel can feel it with the hand pressed against your throat. he throws his head back with a groan. “nasty, naughty girl. fuck baby, gonna cum in that little pussy.”

you’re almost there, and quite frankly impressed that you haven’t fully passed out yet. your head feels light, and you begin to tremble violently, gushing out spurts of liquid as your head falls to the side. if this is hell, you’re not so sure you could give this up for heaven. your eyes close and you feel so close to falling asleep when he removes his hand from your neck, grabbing your head by the nape of your neck, craning you up to where you can see his thick cock slip and slide between your thighs. you groan at the image. 

“need you awake to see me cum in you, don’t i?” miguel groans. “you like watching me fuck you, like letting me dirty you.”

 his tuft of black pubic hair rubs against yours as his thrusts become increasingly sporadic and intense, and it has you trembling at the stimulation it gives your clit. you weakly squirt each time his pelvis brushes against your clit, your body letting you know you have only so much left in you before you’re drained empty.

“fuck, love it when you wet the bed. my pissy little girl. daddy loves the messes you make.” he’s nearly breathless and you pray he’s going to cum in the next minute, the ache in your neck and dull sensation in your pussy building slowly.

“c-cum in me. wanna give you a baby,” you moan, looking up from the fast thrusts and into miguel’s eyes. 

“fuck! so n-naughty, baby. gonna give me another one, huh? fucking take it, then.” with a final thrust, you feel the warmth of his cum shoot and blossom somewhere deep within you. you moan weakly, one final weak spurt of squirt coming out of you. miguel pulls out and you watch him look at the mess he made of you and your pussy, covered in spit, cum and the beginnings of handprint bruises blossoming on your hips and ass from how hard he gripped and spanked you. 

you can feel his cum slowly trickle out of you, and your body feels like it’s no longer your own. after so many orgasms, your limbs are on fire, and you can do nothing but breathe and weakly murmur a “d-daddy..” while your eyes close.

tags: @realhotgirlshitah @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @maxiethestrange

message me to be removed!

[tibbycaps]

Do you know have any tips on how to draw a comic? As in simple style and easy to draw and consistent in redraw? I love your style and I can't help but wonder how you got here and if you could help. Thank you

okay sorry i left this in the inbox for a bit because. where to start lol! there's a lot of thought that can go into making comics i think. but i believe you're specifically asking about having a consistent art style and being able to draw the same character a lot over and over again, so i'll try to focus on that

i think a lot of consistency is just playing around with character designs and getting something you feel comfortable with. ill use grian as a good example because it took me a while to come up with a grian design that i liked. once i liked it, i was able to draw my grian a lot & very consistently. every time you draw a character, even if it's a little doodle, you gain that muscle memory for ur lines a little better, so you should doodle always as much as you can and never be afraid to try something new and experiment with your style

the pipeline

i think a good way to establish a character design that you really like to draw & can familiarize yourself with is by defining some key features about them. like in this image for example, my older grian designs don't really have anything about them that stands out to me. he wasn't rlly that fun to draw. but nowadays i think i have a distinct hairstyle & expression & glasses shape i give him, which are fun to draw. even if it's a tiny doodle with like, 15 strokes, you can still identify it as my grian design i think

something that i noticed (i didn't consciously do this but it just sort of happened as i was trying to make them all look different from one another) is that i assign different shapes to grian, cub and scar. these guys are good examples because 1. they're the three characters in my hotguy comics part and 2. they're the three guys i draw the most often

grian i tend to go for more rounded shapes, cub more squares/rectangles, and scar is more pointy and triangular. little things like this can help them stand out from one another and makes them fun to draw in my opinion. when i draw grian's hair i always have the hair come to a rounded point and is more neat/tidy. when i draw scar the hair is more spiky and wild. cub is sort of in the middle where his hair is more pointy, but is kept neat, which gives it those straight lines and right angles

TL;DR how i draw characters easily and consistently is make key features & shapes that make them fun to both draw & look at. and then draw them a lot

i hope that makes any sense, i like yapping about character design so hope you don't mind the long response lol ^_^