#like i might sound a bit desperate but please send me asks they are so fun

[damfangirl08]

Im still working on the little legend and Mask fic (still undecided on the name of little legend put Wind wants to call him pinky) (Pinky does not like being called Pinky) but there is a lot of school things going on both for me and my beta reader so it will take some time but I appriciate any asks about it if anyone has any suggestions or questions!

[minnies-puppydoll]

OT8 SKZ Headcannons:

.• {how they orgasm}•.

OT8 x reader HCS..smutty, kinda fluffy

Warnings: degredation, breeding, mentions of choking/slapping, reader is called a bitch, lots of cum obviously, if i missed any lmk!

first post!! lmk how u feel abt it and send me asks!! :3 enjoy~*

smut below the cut….

Christopher Bahng:

• straight to his core. loud, strangled noises spill from his mouth as he ruts into you like a desperate dog.

• grips onto whatever he can grab on you. especially when his orgasm takes him by suprise, hes gasping and frantically finding your wrist to hold so he can ride it out.

• during, he’ll lean down and send a growlish-moan to your ear, in a “you did this to me.” way😵‍💫

• his cock definetly throbs, if he pulls out, all you can see is it bobbing up and down and shooting out hot cum.

• he’s dazed afterwards, looking at his mess with half-lidded eyes as he smears it with his thumb.

• hits him more forcefully than sensually, like a pent up release. and trust, if you choke or slap him while he’s cumming then he’ll roll his eyes back and cum 10x harder.

• same for if he’s cumming from your strap, then its all broken whines and drooly pillows from there.

• im a firm believer of breeding kink chan. he’ll press down on your tummy so you can’t miss the feeling of his warm cum swelling you up.

“ahn- fucking..feel that? good whores get bred out, right? thats fucking right..made me cum, sweet girl..”

Lee Minho:

• sooooooo long.

• his dancer core makes his orgasms last forever.

• you’ll be done touching him, and a minute later his cock is still throbbing and squirting out little droplets of cum.

• usually has deeper, longer moans throughout. but when it first hits, he lets out a loud, pornographic noise akin to a yell.

•his head lowers and his face is pained and focused. hands trembling slightly at how hard it hits him.

• makes the prettiest faces during it. all pleasure dazed, like hes in a trance, or like he can’t believe how intense his orgasm is.

• def an eye roller. his orgasms hit hard, not in a shaking way, but he’ll throw his head back and grip onto you, so he can hold you still while he works through his orgasm.

•when his eyes arent rolled to the back of his head, they are either closed or heavy lidded and unfocused.

• coming back to this, he prefers holding you still while he cums. hes way too sensitive for any extra motion. if you try to move on top of him, he’ll firmly cling onto your shoulders to keep you still.

• always a bit exsausted afterwards, but still laughs in disbelief at how long it really is.

“ah!…stay still. stay fucking still, please. just let me cum…mmfh- fuck..feels so good.”

Seo Changbin:

• goes quiet when he’s about to cum. like its the only thing he can think about.

• 1/3 of moanracha. one of the only ones that moan (but turns kinda growl-ish at the end🤭)

• he knows his strength, so when he cums he tries to either get off of you or relax his body as much as he can. (thats why he prefers you on top)

• sounds in pain but he’s definetly not. he forgets how good you make him feel sometimes.

• a lip-biter, its how he calms himself down, also a throbber!! his hips never stutter though, he’s very good.

• a slut for his neck being touched, bite or kiss on his neck and he’ll cum so good for you.

• like i said earlier, he wants to hold you close so bad! but, he’s nervous he might crush you. so he trains himself for you, softly fucking into you and holding his trembling body back from just holding you down and pounding you.

• soft binnie boy in his dirty talk, his strength doesn’t match his words as he softens his body and starts to cum inside you.

“soft- soft..g’nna fuck you softly, yeah? sweet girl..making me cum..so good to me.”

Hwang Hyunjin:

• 2/3 of moanracha. he moans unashamed, long, sensual noises that have you dripping.

• treats an orgasm like a piece of art, making sure to cum right on your pretty pussy and admire.

• his thighs tremble and his mouth hangs open, pleasure spreading along his body and glowing in his sides, eventually spilling all out onto you, his stunning muse.

• when he’s fucking you, there is nothing in the world that could break his concentration. its like you both have built this sweet atmosphere in the air, heated colors flash in your mind, trapping you with him.

• and when he cums, that atmosphere shatters into a million pieces, like nothing else in the entire world matters besides you and the intense pleasure you’re making him feel.

• he likes when you cum before him, so he can watch your every reaction to his hard work.

• but he likes it even better when you cum with him, he likes sharing the moment with you, so he might even make you hold it.🤭

“…fuck- hold it. i’m almost there, don’t fucking cum yet..fuck! i love you! i love you..so much.”

Han Jisung:

• 3/3 of moanracha. his moans are loud and uncontrollable.

• BIGGEST EYE ROLLER. ive seen him do that shit too many times in videos, im so serious he does that when he cums.

• he also cannot control that tongue of his, shits always out of his mouth while drool drips from his bottom lip.

• he just loves feeling good!! he’ll take anything you give him as long as he gets to cum.

• his poor little cock gets so red. drips a massive amount of precum just to squirt out such a pathetic little load.

• loves teasing his cock after he cums. he’ll rub himself on whatever he can, twitching at the little sparks of harsh pleasure that it grants him.

• says “fuck me” even if he’s topping, such a freaky ass bitch😭

• and if you’re pegging or fingering him, you’ll be suprised at how slutty that little mouth of his is, drooling and babbling out such meaningless little praises and begs.

• grips your wrist and thrusts frantically into you with loud, pathetic whines. his eyes are a bit teary when he places his hand on your tummy, begging you to cum because of how overstimulated he’s getting.

“ah..fuck- fuck me, fuck me harder..shit. ah, please cum- ah..soon. please? s’too much.. i know, im pathetic..m’sorry.”

Lee Felix:

• so sensual. like his orgasm is fire, burning his body so slowly.

• his hips may be frantic, but his voice is shuddery as he whispers pretty words and praises into your ears.

• his face heats up so much its unreal. he cant help but blush at how good you make him feel!!

• that deep voice in your ear😵‍💫 makes u wanna be silent so you can hear him better.

• small load, nothing too much, but it tastes so sweet. you beg him to cum on your face or in your mouth, he feels a little bad but he can’t hold it when he sees you stick your tongue out while he jerks his cock off.

• likes recieving pain when he cums, like scratching his thighs or biting down on his shoulders. it embarrasses him but also makes him drool🫶🏽

• okay fr guys..i think felix can squirt. HEAR ME OUT.

• rub the palm of your hand over his tip rapidly, or agressively rub his slit and he’s writhing and arching under you. gripping your wrist and begging you to slow down before he hides his face and squirts all over his tummy.

• he’s such a pleaser, that he’s unable to focus soley on his pleasure. so if he accidentally cums before you, he’ll pull out and mutter little apologies as he rubs your clit, ruining his own orgasm while shoving his face in your neck.

“..ah! fuck! sorry…m’sorry..hah- so sorry, angel..please cum- please cum too?”

Kim Seungmin:

• when he's subbing, he's a desperate humper. wether its your shoe, or your hand, or even your belongings hes frantically fucking into it, trying to cum hard.

• but the way he cums is still the same, no matter what role he's playing.

• it looks earth shattering. he twitches and shakes, and his eyes are tightly shut (when they arent rolled back to his brain)

• he tries to have you lock eyes with him when he cums, but it always ends up with him breaking it almost immediately.

• prefers to cum on your lower back or tummy, but he's a bit of a clean freak so this preference doesn't help him at all😭

• very dazed and tender after. he'll look at you with loving eyes and caress your cheek, kinda like the sweet version of chan's "you did this to me" attitude.

• he used to be very shy about the way he acted when he came, so he would hold it in, but once you tried to forced one out of him anyway. poor boy was begging you to "wait" and "stop," but his body betrayed him and twitched into your hand.

"mm'ah! wait! stopstop' please- ill cum! please."

(or..dom ver bc im a slut 😈)

"oh? fine..make me cum then, bitch..c'mon- oh fuck..that's a good girl. only thing you're good for, right slut?”

Yang Jeongin:

• doesn’t hit him quite as hard as the others, now that doesn’t mean its not enjoyable for him.

• it just means that his buildup is stronger than his orgasm, it comes in blissful waves rather than the others.

• when it hits, his jaw drops and his eyes close, but soon after 4 seconds of that, hes giggling about it and using it to give you more pleasure.

• big ass load. he cums so much its not funny. he likes cumming in you too, so good luck with that!

• whispers long, teasing groans in your ear to feel you squeeze around him.

•he enjoys fucking more than the actual climax, so he’ll usually hold his orgasm off until you’re begging him to cum.

• then, he’ll tilt his head and glide his cock along your clit with the same pace, like he never stopped fucking you. laughing at your cries and pleads.

“hm..aw, poor baby..want my cum? need my cum inside you? hm..ill think about it.”

[bookyeom]

whatever you say, baby - chs

pairing: vernon x reader word count: 1.1k warnings: none? the slightest bit suggestive at the end but like... it's nothing author's note: part two to this fic! i would recommend reading both for it to make sense :)

You haven’t seen Vernon in four days.

You haven’t seen him since he kissed you — and he’d kissed you a lot.

You’d barely managed to finish the movie without making out on his couch like teenagers. And when it was over, he hadn’t asked you to stay — but he’d kissed you again by his front door. 

You’d texted when you’d gotten home safe, as he’d requested. Then you’d woken up the next day to a ‘good morning :)’ text, which was swiftly followed by ‘today is so busy I might die’. And then the two of you had just… moved on. 

He sends a Shrek meme and then disappears for hours; you laugh react or send a meme in return. He sends you a picture of a “gnarly” squirrel he sees on campus; you send him a picture of a shitty doodle you drew during one of your lectures. Neither of you brings up what happened. You know he’s got a project due at the end of the week, so you don’t push when his texts are few and far between. Even though you so desperately want to. 

Is he thinking about it as much as you are? You can’t get the feeling of his lips out of your mind, and it’s driving you crazy. You want to kiss him again, want to run your fingers through his hair again, want to feel his hands on your waist again.

But you remain in limbo. You don’t ask for an explanation — he doesn’t offer one. And you don’t know how much longer you can ignore it. 

Vernonie [8:34pm]: INCOMING VIDEOCALL

Your eyes widen when your screen lights up. You quickly straighten from where you’d been lounging on your couch, tucking your hair behind your ears and hoping for the best. He knows what you look like, you remind yourself, but that doesn’t help the nerves when you finally accept the call. 

“Hey, stranger.”

He looks cute, and it makes you sick. 

“Hey,” you reply, and you can feel your cheeks heat up for no apparent reason. All he’s done is say hello, but you haven’t seen his face in four days, and the last time you saw him you were —

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you say, and then you can’t help but blurt out, “You’ve been busy.” It comes out accusatory, and you regret it immediately. 

Vernon looks surprised, and you watch as his eyebrows raise. “Yeah, I had that big project to finish, remember?” 

You nod, avoiding eye contact through the screen. “Right.”

He’s quiet again before he says teasingly, “If you missed me you can just say so.” 

You know it’s an attempt to lighten the mood, but it hits so deep all of a sudden that you think you might cry. Did he not miss you, too? 

You know it’s a cheap move, but you absolutely cannot look at him when he tells you that the kissing had meant nothing, that it was all a mistake. That you’re better off as friends. 

“Hey,” he says when you shift your phone so that your face is just out of sight. You can practically hear his pout. “Come back.”

“I’m just gonna go,” you say weakly, and you can see in your peripheral vision the way Vernon sits up straight. 

“Hey, no. Wait. Please come back? Let me say something.”

You bite your lip as the tears well up. It takes you a minute, but you manage to take a breath and set your phone back upright to look at him. 

“Y/N,” he says gently, and you can see his soft smile through the screen. “Bro.”

You can’t help but smile a bit at that, and he takes that as a sign to continue. 

“Did you think I was avoiding you?”

You shrug. 

“You think I kissed you and then avoided you on purpose?”

Your heart stutters over itself a bit as he says the words out loud. When he puts it like that, you suppose it sounds a bit silly. Because it’s Vernon, and he would never be so cruel. You shrug again, but you still can’t find it in you to speak. 

“Kissing you is probably all I've thought about for the better part of the last few months,” he continues, and your eyes widen. “I wasn't deliberately avoiding you, I just... I was busy, that part’s true, but it seemed like a good time to give you some space anyway because I know you get into your head sometimes, so I thought that would give you some time to process…” He trails off, a hand running through his hair before he adds, quieter, “You know. In case you…” 

“In case I what?” It’s the first time you’ve spoken in a few minutes, and you can practically see the way Vernon’s shoulders relax at the sound of your voice again. 

He pauses, and then he says softly, “In case you regret it.”

Your eyes widen. “You think I regret it?”

“Do you?”

You shake your head, a bit dizzy as you return, “Do you?”

Vernon’s lip curls up at the side. “No, Y/N. I don’t.”

You’re processing, and he’s quiet as he lets you. He doesn’t regret it. He wanted to kiss you. He… 

It’s silent for another moment and then you say, voice small, “But you didn’t ask me to stay.” 

“Baby,” he says, and your eyes widen. “That’s definitely not because I didn’t want you to. Like I said, I was giving you space.”

“Baby?”

Vernon freezes. “Shit, sorry. Fuck—“

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, and he relaxes a little. 

“Yeah?” He breathes, and you nod. A smile spreads across your lips, warmth spreading through you as it really, truly dawns on you — Vernon likes you back. 

“Yeah,” you affirm. “I think I much prefer that to bro.”

“Yeah?” He says again, and you smile. You’re just realizing now that he seems nervous too, and it makes you feel all sorts of warm and fuzzy inside.

“Mhm.”

You stare at one another through the screen. Vernon’s grin spreads the longer you do, and even though you know your cheeks are flushed, you don’t stop the staring contest. He narrows his eyes, and you let out a giggle. 

“So…”

“So,” he repeats, and you watch as he adjusts to lie down on his couch. “I finished my project.”

That was not where you thought this conversation was headed. “Oh yeah? Good job, bro.” 

Vernon raises his eyebrows at the name, and you flush again. 

“It’s habit,” you whine, and he puts on an exaggerated frown. 

“That’s fine,” he sighs dramatically, “I was going to say that I can hang out with you now that my project is done, but I can see I’m the only romantic one here, bro.”

You gasp. “I can be romantic!”

Vernon grins, and you immediately know you’ve taken his bait as he teases, “Really?”

“I can!” You insist, and he just smiles even wider. 

“Want me to come over so you can show me just how romantic you can be, baby?”

TAGLIST: @tae-bebe @wheeboo @waldau @iluvseokmin @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @seohomrwolf @pan-de-seungcheol @minisugakoobies @wqnwoos @gyuminusone @christinewithluv @darkypooo @lvlystars @bewoyewo

[cindyss]

• - FUCK ME IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER - •

PAIRING(S): theodore not x fem. reader

WARNING(S): smutt

SUMMARY: after winning his quidditch, you realize that your bf wasnt as happy as he usually is, and when you ask him about it, his jealousy is to be revealed

A/N: sorry this is a bit short im a bit unmotivated rn!

——————————————————

You were at your bf’s quidditch game, watching as theodore leads his team to victory, him being captain. Throughout the game, your eyes never leave your bf, you loved watching him play, he looked so good.

Then, you notice your boyfriend clench his jaw as Cormac, flies around where you’re standing. He manages to push the Gryffindor boy hence making him fall to the floor. The game ends with slytherin winning and so the team decides to celebrate the night with champagne in the common room.

Later that night, you get to the common room, ready to meet him since you haven’t talked since the game. He was sat on the couch with a cigarette in his hand, an expression on his face you could read, he’s pissed.

Astoria who also just arrived meets her partner Mattheo and sits on his lap beside Blaise and Enzo. On another couch Regulus and Tom were sat next to the fireplace whispering something inaudible.

You get on your bf’s lap and greet him with a kiss on his cheek. He kisses your forehead sliding his hand down your hair to play with it. “You did so good today baby” you speak. He replies with a quick hmm, his jaw clenched. He was lost in thought, although, you weren’t sure what it is that he’s thinking about.

“Is something wrong teddy?” you hesitate. He looks at you, then says, “Cormac, he was looking at you and flying around you the whole time today, and i got jealous so i pushed him off and hurt him.. bad. And now i’m kicked out of the team for the rest of the season.”

A big wave of guilt hit you as you shuffled on his lap, “theo i am so sorry.. i promise i wasn’t looking anywhere near Cormac, i mean why would i? you were perfect baby, you looked so handsome playing and you were so good at it.”

Theo smiled at you, kissing your temple. “Dont blame yourself for this, i know you would never even glance at him i trust you, but i got so mad and.. yeah.” “what can i do to help you?” you question. “Let me fuck you real hard please” he says, gulping.

“uhh.. theo are you sure-“ “yes yes” he nodded. “okay then fuck me if it makes you feel better”. At your mark, theo removes you carefully off him and stands up before taking your hand in his and leading the both of you to his dorm.

“Please no loud sounds, im tryna sleep soon” Blaise joked. Once you got to his dorm, he began kissing you hungrily and desperately while removing your clothes. Remaining in your matching set of lingerie, he pushed you to the bed and got on top of you. Still kissing you, you helped him get out of his clothes, shirt, pants, then boxers.

He then began leaving trails of kisses down your stomach, his finger-trip trailing the curves of your body until it reached your panties. He slid your panties down, flipping you over so that you’re on top. He removed your bra and then used his hands to slowly lower you on top of him.

You moaned as he entered you, adjusting to his size before you began riding him. Your hands on his stomach, you ride him increasing your pace a bit every now and then. Your hair wrapped around his fingers, as whimpers leave his mouth. He grabs your neck, lowering you to him so he kisses you. He bites your lip making you feel your orgasm near.

Then, he flips you over, making the position deeper, and starts thrusting in an out of you. His pace quick, he kisses you, your tongues intertwining, he then moves to your neck and starts biting on your skin.

Thats sends you releasing your cum without a warning instead a scream which makes theo throw his head back “come inside me” you ask him to which he does. You both come down from your highs as he slumps next to you on the bed.

“If i get to fuck you like this i might as well never play on the team again” he joked. “oh shut up theo,” you slapped his arm. he chuckled picking you up bridal style “come lets get you cleaned up principessa”.

[luveline]

i'm missing coworker!james so much... is he doing okay?

James is poorly :( fem

James is a cruel kind of ill. Desperate to escape the dreaded ‘man flu’, he tries hard to portray the common cold. Doesn’t whine, groan or moan, simply suffers the near constant sneezing and his twinging neck without comment. 

Luckily, he has two —two! because you like him enough to be concerned! barely!— nice deskmates who ply him with tea and worry alike. 

“Did you take that antihistamine?” Remus asks. 

“I did, yeah. You watched me take it an hour ago and try as I might, I haven’t regurgitated it yet.” 

“Don’t be disgusting, he’s just worried,” you say. 

A month ago, you might’ve said it with deep, genuine ire. James annoys you and his choice of imagery is hardly workplace appropriate, but for some reason you’re good to him lately. You’re softening, and why shouldn’t you be? James is a boy worth softening for. 

He sneezes hard into a tissue in his palm and knocks the desk, sending his small crowd of figurines skittering, their light green bodies scuffed with scratches. They fall over each day. You like rearranging them. 

You also like feeding James biscuits, and pretending you don’t like him. Or maybe pretending you do. It’s hard to tell what’s real. 

“Jesus,” he says, forgetting to be demure as he drops his forehead against his closed fist. “I can’t take it much longer.” 

“You need to calm down, is all. Every time you sneeze you trigger the inflammation in your nose, which makes you more likely to sneeze again,” Remus says. He doesn’t sound particularly pitying, but he does then stand to grab James’ mug as he heads to the kitchen. 

In an office made up of mostly Brits, it’s extremely common for everyone to make one another a tea or coffee when they get one for themselves, but it’s a sweet gesture for Remus to keep James topped up nonetheless. It also provides for moments like this: you and him alone. Not awkward anymore. 

“Do you have painkillers?” he asks.

You open the drawer of your desk and offer him your pouch. “Here.” 

Inside are many things. A box of lil-lets, plasters in sterile wrappings, throat soothers, ibuprofen, a treasure trove of cures for little ailments. 

“Just, help yourself to anything you want.” 

“You’re an angel.” James unveils a shiny purple chocolate bar. “I can have Freddie?”

“Freddo,” you correct. “Come on, James, it’s on the packet.” 

He doesn’t truly want it. He doubts he could taste it, and he drops it back in. 

“Oh, no, you can have it!” you say, softer. “I’m just being pedantic.” 

“Thanks, but I don’t think I can do chocolate right now.” 

“Right, um… well, I have a sandwich?” 

“What kind of sandwich?” he asks. 

“One of those impossible BLT’s. But I can get you a proper sandwich, James. They have those sesame seed rolls in the vending machine.” 

James doesn’t understand why you’re being so nice to him. “I must look awful,” he murmurs, letting his aching, pulsing head drop onto the desk. He sniffs uselessly. Fuck, he hates work. Why can’t he go home?

“You never look awful,” you say. 

James turns his face to see you’ve lowered your own, resting your cheek in your hand, your knuckles grazing the table. 

“You’re being too nice to me. I’m dying.” 

“You’re the one who’s mean to me, James. I’m your unwilling victim.”

“As opposed to being my willing victim.” James hates being ill, his lips are dry and his throat feels sharp and he’s changed his mind, he does want the Freddo. “Please be nice to me again.” 

“You know what’s good for this? Nasal spray. That’ll fix you.” 

“You could fix me,” James says. You don’t answer. He presses his nose to the table. “My days are always good ones when you can't be bothered to pretend you don’t like me.” 

“Who says I’m pretending?” 

James whines. “That’s worse.” 

You tease a bit of his hair behind his ear. James is content to let you, content to never move again, balmed by the softness of your touch as you draw along the outline of his ear to his jaw. “Don’t press your glasses into your nose, you’ll start sneezing again,” you whisper. 

James refuses to move. “Stroke my hair,” he demands.

“No way.”

“You’re no fun.”

“But I’m having a much better day than you are.” 

He sulks. This is exactly why James hides your stuff and leaves you off of email chains you should probably be in. You’re horrible, awful, evil, with no sympathy for him and no friendliness, either. James was far better off when he was solely annoyed at you, and not whatever useless state of being this is where his mood depends on your willingness to make friends. If James could, he would—

“Are you okay?” you say, your voice as soft as your fingertip where it traces slowly through his curly hair. “Maybe you should go home and rest. I’m worried about you…” 

James might fall in love with you if you keep whispering sweet stuff like that. You hesitate at the nape of his neck before dragging your hand up through a tuft of curls. 

“If you don’t get better soon, your voice will go and I’ll have to talk to Lang and Co. on the phone again. You know I hate their finance team leader,” you finish. 

You sound so pretty that James almost misses your slight. Then decides he’ll allow it as long as you keep stroking his hair.  —

coworker james au

[moonstruckme]

hi :3

everytime i send you a request my personality’s different HAHA

okay, sooo, i was thinking (rare occasion) about your casual dominance story (LOVE btw)

so, how about that EXCEPT reader is the casually dominant one >:)

feel free to ignore this, ik this isnt like what u normally do

love ya MWA

Okay so I swear I tried to do dominant reader but it just turned into this, idk how it happened. She’s not super dominant but she’s not submissive and she definitely gets her way, so I hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol, suggestive content + a bit of light degradation, mdni please

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 601 words

You find the marauders in the living room. At the center of the party, as usual. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” Sirius’ eyes find you instantly. He grins. Remus follows his gaze, and immediately starts talking to James about something else. “I was just thinking about you.” 

“You’re always thinking about me,” you say, bypassing the space he makes for you on the couch to sit in his lap. 

He scoffs, settling his hand on your thigh. You know he can smell your conditioner. You hope he dreams about it. “Sweetheart,” he replies, breath warm on the shell of your ear, “you’re projecting.” 

You let your head fall back on his shoulder, batting your eyelashes up on him. “That’s a five dollar word there, baby. You taking lessons from Remus?” 

Sirius makes a sound like he’s choked on a laugh. He covers it up by taking a sip of his drink. His cropped shirt lifts when he raises his cup, and you swiftly turn around on his lap, covering the slice of abdomen from view. 

He raises an eyebrow at you. He knows what you’re doing, but he hardly minds. You’re conveniently placed to feel something stiff and familiar poking at your heat through his pants. 

You grin and shift a little, delighting when his cheeks pinken. 

Black fingernails dig into your thigh in an attempt to still you. 

“Doll,” Sirius says warningly. 

You ignore him, plucking the cup from his hand and swirling it, sniffing at the liquid inside. Sirius holds your stare as you take a sip. 

“How many of these have you had?” you ask. 

“That there’s my second.” 

You hum, taking another sip. Strong, but not bad. 

“I’m gonna finish this one off,” you tell him. “I think you’re good for tonight.” 

He raises an eyebrow at you. “And why’s that?” 

You lean in close, wrapping one hand around the side of his neck and murmuring against the shell of his ear, “Because it’s no fun fucking you if you’re already stupid when we start.” You back up an inch, looking into eyes now eclipsed by pupil. “Okay, honey?” 

Sirius swallows. You feel the movement of his throat under your hand and stroke the side of his jaw with your thumb. Roll your hips again, just because you can. 

He takes in a sharp breath, hands clamping down on your hips to try and keep you in place. 

“Sirius, mate,” James says from the other side of the couch, “are you alright?” His brow is creased in concern, but you can see the tensed muscles around his mouth from the effort it takes to keep from smiling. Beside him, Remus is doing a much better job at exercising his poker face. “You look like your drink’s gone down the wrong pipe or something.” 

Sirius might normally see the knowing in his friend’s look, too, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “I’m fine,” he says, voice impressively blase for someone who seems like he could cum in his pants with a couple of strategic movements on your part. “Just thinking it’s time me and my bird get out of here.” 

“What?” You make a show of leaning away from him, and the shift in your weight has Sirius gripping desperately at your hips. “Babe, it’s so early. We’ve only just got here. Let’s give it an hour at least, yeah?” 

“Really?” Sirius asks quietly, urgently. 

You take a slow sip of his drink, letting him see the way your throat bobs when you swallow. 

“Yeah,” you exhale as you finish. “Why, are you in some kind of hurry?”

[evie-sturns]

ᴇxᴀᴍ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: you're mind is clouded with stress due to the fact your final highschool exams are next week. matt comes over to help you with studying, and also to take your mind off everything.

contains: smut, fluff, small age gap?, swearing, crying.

—--------------------≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫-----------------——

matt and i have known each other since he was 13 and i was 11, our families have been super close for around 7 years. a year ago Matt confessed to me, I felt the exact same.

"oh my fucking god." i groan, throwing my head into my hands as i feel a burning sensation at the back of my throat.

its my final exam week starting tomorrow, and i'm attempting to catch up on last minute homework beforehand. matt graduated 2 years ago, he was top of his class, i pick up my phone and dial his number.

i need desperate help.

"hey!" matt says into the phone, a smile clear by his voice.

i sniffle quickly before starting "please come over nothing is making sense." my voice wobbles as i clutch the phone in my hand.

"oh fuck-.. no yeah ill be round in 5 minutes okay?" he says gently into the phone.

i nod like he can see me, then hang up.

-

i hear my bedroom door opening, my head snaps up to look at him from my bed. hes got worry painted across his face as i see his eyes dart over my matress, which has several books on it. "you okay?" he asks, walking over to my bed and sitting down on it opposite me.

i shake my head "i can't do this shit" i groan, matt nods understandably before grabbing my hands and pulling them away from my face.

"look at me" he says in a serious tone, i tilt my head up and lock eyes with him. "i'm gonna help you okay?"

"thank you," i say as my voice breaks.

he sits up and walks over by my side before plopping down on the bed next to me, he grabs the textbook which has around 15 questions left on it. "not even ai understands it, i tried." i sigh earning a laugh from matt, i lean my head on his shoulder.

"basic algebra, you know this, i know you do sweetheart."

i shake my head "my brains so fucking foggy i bet you i couldnt do a 6th grade multiplication table right now."

"foggy like how" he questions, tilting his head.

"just everything i have so much on my mind." i reply lifting my head off his shoulder and staring at the questions.

"you're okay, look- 'factorising an algebraic equation means writing the expression as product of factors, which are simpler algebraic expressions, this is done..." the rest of what matt says doesnt get through to me, i cant physically wrap my mind around it right now.

i feel my eyes start to water before several tears start to flow down my cheeks, "got it?" matt asks, keeping his eyes fixated on the page resting on the sheets. i stay silent "hello?" he says again, this time looking over at me.

"oh god- no no don't cry" matt panics, grabbing my cheeks and giving me a gentle kiss.

"i can't think." i squeeze out, matt wraps around me. "this might not sound like good timing but, i can.. help you?" he says nervously, grimacing slightly.

i hand him the pencil, his words not passing through. "no no, like i can take your mind off of the work for a little bit" he repeats.

realisation hits me and my eyebrows raise, my head snapping round to look at matt who has an innocent expression plastered on his face. i nod, and without another word my shirt is halfway across the room.

he laughs quietly, his shirt meeting mine in the corner of the room. his chain lays loose on his bare chest. he stands up off the bed, i lie back. "i want you to just be a... - like a uh" my eyebrows scrunch "a what?"

"i hate the word but its the best way i can describe it." matt chuckles, "say it!" i smile

"pillow princess..?" he says quietly, icking himself out.

"okay" i shake my head with a wide grin before.

matts long cold fingers reach out to grab the waistband of my sweatpants, sending goosebumps down my body. he tugs at it gently, letting it slide down my legs.

"you okay?" he asks while unclasping his belt "i think?" i reply stupidly.

he nods, his tongue sticking out to wet his now dry lips. his baggy jeans pool at his ankles, leaving him in his boxers.

"ready?"

i nod, "yep-..yeah"

he stands between my legs before hovering over me, colliding our lips together aggressively.

it never fails to shock me how he can switch from so innocent to so.. different.

i moan lightly into the kiss as i feel his clothed bulge against my inner thigh. he abrubtly pulls away from the kiss pecking kisses down my neck, to my chest, to my stomach.

i squirm desperately on the bed as he pauses just above my clit.

"more." i whine, matt shakes his head, lifting his head up and grabbing my thighs he spreads them further apart.

i throw my head back "fuck." i breathe, before i can breath again matts tip presses against my clit. i instantly look up, questioning how hes just undressed the rest of the way in under a second.

he runs his soft tip through my folds, he presses only an inch or 2 inside of me before he pulls out, continuing to tease me.

"matt i need you." i groan, my back arching off the bed.

"can you get on fours for me sweetheart?" he asks softly, i nod, instantly flipping over and arching my back.

"good girl." he coos, lining himself up with me. "gonna keep being whiny?" he asks, i shake my head no. "thats right." he says.

"this is whats gonna happen okay? you aren't gonna start asking me to slow down because i think we both know how needy you were just acting."

fuck.

i dont think a single sentence has ever turned me on more.

i nod frantically, matt presses down on my back, arching my back more.

i feel him slide halfway inside of me slowly before slamming the rest of his length into me, earning a squeal from me.

before i can even process my thoughts hes slamming full force into me, deeper and deeper each time. my moans cloud the room along with heavy breaths coming from matt.

his tip continues to bruise my cervix, i clench around him each time it does.

"fuck-.." i hear matt whimper lowly from behind me.

he reaches a hand round under me and presses on my lower stomach.

hes never done that before, but holy fuck am i glad he did.

i instantly release over matts cock, clenching harshly around him with a scream.

matt pulls out, releasing over my back.

"you-you okay?" he stammers breathlessly, flopping down beside me.

i nod, my mind fully blank.

i guess him 'helping clear my head' worked.

-

matt finishes redressing me before sitting back down next to me, the air around us is hot and thick, but matts still determened to get this homework done.

"okay- so as i was saying factorising an algebraic equation means writing the expression as product of factors...

-

matt and i have been working through the textbook for about 20 minutes, everything makes sense and now i can't understand what i wasnt understanding earlier.

"you try this one okay?" matt hands me the pencil and i start to scribble down the awnsers. "you got it!" he smiles proudly, kissing my cheek.

i yawn, tired out from.. everything.

"you tired?" he asks, wrapping him arms around me and flopping down on the mattress. "very." i reply, my voice croaky.

"you wanna sleep, we can finish this tomorrow morning okay? and ill just drop you off at school or whatever." he asks, without another word im fast asleep on his chest.

1:24am

i wake up to the sound of pencil scribbling on paper, confused i sit up. matts sitting criss cross on the bed, leaning down over my textbook and filling in all the awnsers.

"matt?" i groan, rubbing my eyes.

"go back to sleep gorgeous," he replys, looking back at me

"what are you doing.." i ask, my eyes adjusting to the light.

"im doing this for you, you already know how to do it, i saw you. you're gonna be too tired to do this in the morning." he says.

i crawl over to matt and smother him in kisses "maattt, thats adorable."

"shush, this is a one time thing." he replys, shaking his head with a smirk.

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

[imaginespazzi]

Part 3: Miss Me, Miss Me Not

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

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

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

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 5.8K

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

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

September 2017

Azzi: just got home :) 

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

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

But then Azzi picks up on the second one.

And really it would be rude to hang up. 

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

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

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

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

“Yeah I’m hanging up-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No but it sounds boring as fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only hurts from carrying my team.”

“Oh my god you’re so full of it.”

“Full of talent? Yessirrrr.”

Azzi huffs, “Paige.”

“Azzi,” Paige hums. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then don’t hang up. Talk to me.”

And Azzi does. All night. 

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

To her royal highness, 

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

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

(And you better show up Bueckers)

Yours, 

Azzi

February 2033

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ice-” she begins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A matter of time till what?”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Oliv-”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

Paige laughs, “and why’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But Mama-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paige shrugs, “I have time to stay.”

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

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

“I have connections.”

“You talked to Ice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not-” Azzi groans, “shut up.”

Paige smirks, “you were worried for me.”

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

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

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

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

“What is?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love your walls Stephie,” she compliments.

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

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

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

Paige smiles, “of course you can.”

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

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

“‘Course you can Miss Buecks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[gladiatorcunt]

Literally begging you to please write more Patrick Zweig x Reader fics 🥵🥵

cw: 18+ MDNI, afab reader, hints of patrick x art / patrick x reader x art, consensual and accidental somno, gross patrick, hint of breeding kink, college era ish, mention of ass play, unedited

Tired Loser Bf!Patrick who hikes one of your thighs over his, pressing up against you and sinking back into your already wet pussy. It’s so early in the morning, but sometimes he gets in a mood where he just needs to go lose himself in your cunt even if you’re not contributing. You hum and snuggle further into the silk pillowcase, relishing in the too tight grip of your plush love handles and the sloppy sounds his balls make against your ass. You hardly spend any time together due to his career rhat’s been on a bit of a decline, so you’re more than happy to be his toy if that’s what makes him feel like he’s worth anything. Like he can only find meaning in the warm walls of your pussy, and ass, on occasion.

It’s either this or quick fucks on the counter or kitchen table, both of you nearly clawing at each other in desperation to all but consume the other. Sometimes it’s softer, slow thrusts angled to perfectly hit the right spot every time as he trails open mouthed kisses along your collarbone. Patrick offers to take a shower after coming home sweaty and disgusting but you always say that you prefer him like that anyway. He whines pathetically for a kiss for you and for him from a best friend you’ve never met into your neck and pounds you harder. Your eyes flutter half open at the impact, the grunts behind you and the thick weight moving in and out of you being the only things you can comprehend.

“Glided right in, didn’t even have to finger you or anything.” He moans too loudly for sleepy sex at 5 in the monring. “Always so ready for me, just how i like you.”

“Uh! Uh huh-“

You sigh and nod into the pillow, lazily throwing your ass back on his cock as he fucks you. His pace is so fast that you’re worried he might throw his back out, it’s so frantic and desperate, like he’s trying to stab your guts and leave a permanent mark on you from the inside. You zone in on his heavy breathing, he grinds his length deeper inside and lifts one of your ass cheeks just to watch it fall and jiggle back into place. It’s almost like he’s on the court, eyes watching the ball like a hawk and giving you the most toe curling punched out sounds when he hits it. His precision and raw enthusiasm has you gasping.

The sun’s not far off from rising, so you give up on getting anymore meaningful rest and drown in the intense smell around you. Sweat, slick, old almost acidic cum from when he bred you in his sleep, take out containers from last night that haven’t been thrown away, sharp and piercing autumn air, Patrick’s horrific axe body spray, your much more pleasant cherry blossom body wash. His thrusts send you rocking up the bed, tits swaying back and forth in the mess of tangled thin sheets. Your still half concious but he fucks you like he’s been awake for hours, eyes wide and crazed and brow furrowed like he needs so much more of you than he thought. He moans two names after quick sucks to both of your nipples, one for each. Yours and that same best friend’s.

The red cap Patrick has stashed away in the nighstand collects dust like a skeleton in a closet. There are sessions where he won’t, or maybe can’t, cum unless you cry and whine for that best friend too. You don’t even know who you’re begging for another cock to steal your voice and ravage your throat, but you do it and take note of the euphoric shout that rattles all the way out of Patrick’s chest, the all too pleased sigh into the valley of your breasts. You don’t ask in the shower or in bed, the buried sadness he carries like a chain gives the impression that the abscence is not his choice. Might be a nice birthday present, a reunion.

You wake up more as he goes insane with his fucking, his arm restrains your thigh and pulls it up so high you can feel the muscle stretching. He doesn’t communicate beyond feral grunts and something primal between a growl and a whimper, making sure you can really feel his thick cock bullying your poor pussy beyond repair. You never mind, in fact some days it’s you who wakes Patrick up by bouncing on him like a cock starved slut. You like when you can’t forget what he’s done to you, when you can raise your head to admire the new necklace of bruises. It’s not like he’s never gentle with you, but you don’t feel ashamed for loving him how he is. The jagged edges and aching need to belong somewhere, to someone.

Sometimes all a relationship needs to work is for the people involved to be the same, deep down or surface level. You take whiffs of his pubes that are too deep to be normal apprection for your partner’s body and he eats his own tangy cum out of your puffy pussy like it’s God’s gift to humanity, spitting the left over jizz and additional saliva into your ass hole and slurping that up too. But in the here and now, he’s fucking you without a goal or an end in sight, heavy balls wetly kissing your lower body with no assurance of being emptied. It could be hours before Patrick lets either of you cum, like it’s one of his games that more closely resembles a heated battle to something that looks and acts like death. Evenly matched, no one being stronger than the other.

So you give him the point and drift off, messily tongue kissing him back and lulling yourself to the chaotic rhythm of his thrusts. Outside, it starts to softly rain, the ambience of the moment softening both of your hearts. You put effort in a real kiss, only for a second, whisper an ‘I love you’ and wait for a resounding ‘I love you too’ before shutting off your brain for the time being.

[skywalkerslvt]

Need a desperate sub Leon in public setting🙏🏻But please dont make us mean,I cant be mean to my baby but "No baby we're in public!"

a/n: tysm for the request! here's a very short fic i've been working on (it's a little bit rushed and not proofread so i might fix it up later). hope u like it!! <3

CW: 18+ smut, sub leon, teasing, semi public sex, pet names (reader calls leon baby and good boy), handjobs, 1.1k words

Leon Kennedy was always composed, always in control. At least, that's what everyone thought. But right now, at one of his coworker's dinner parties, he was anything but.

The evening had started off normally enough. You and Leon had arrived at the elegant townhouse, greeting his colleagues and their partners with polite smiles. The house was buzzing with conversation and laughter, the sound of clinking glasses and soft music creating a lively atmosphere.

You were both seated at a long dining table, surrounded by the chatter of his coworkers. But beneath the table, hidden from everyone else, your hand was slowly driving Leon to the brink of madness.

It had begun with a casual touch on his knee, a simple gesture that wouldn't raise any suspicion. But then your hand began to wander, tracing patterns on his thigh, inching closer and closer to the bulge straining against his slacks.

Leon tried to focus on the conversation, tried to keep his responses coherent, but it was getting harder with every passing second. He shifted in his seat, his breathing becoming shallow as he felt your fingers brush against him.

"Are you okay, Leon?" you asked innocently, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you pretended to be concerned.

He swallowed hard, nodding. "J-just a little distracted."

You bit back a smile, knowing full well what you were doing to him. Your fingers pressed a bit harder, rubbing him through the fabric, and Leon had to bite his lip to keep from making any noise.

"Are you sure?" you asked, leaning forward slightly, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage. "You seem really tense."

Leon managed a weak smile. "Y-yeah, just... trying to keep it together."

You chuckled softly, your fingers giving him a teasing squeeze before leaving his aching cock, returning to tracing teasing circles up and down his thigh.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself, but it was no use.

He was too far gone, too desperate for your touch. His hand reached under the table, gripping your wrist in a silent plea for mercy. His hand guided yours up higher, where his cock was straining painfully against his pants. “Please,” he whined quietly, “I need it.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered back, "No, baby, we're in public. You can be a good boy and wait for me, can't you?"

Leon shuddered, his grip tightening. "I don't know if I can."

"You will" you said confidently, giving him one last squeeze before finally pulling your hand away. "Because you know I'll make it worth your while."

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The promise of relief, of finally being able to let go, gave him the strength to endure the rest of the meal.

But it wasn't easy. Every look, every casual touch, was a reminder of what was waiting for him, just out of reach.

By the time the dinner was over and you made your way to a quiet corner of the house, Leon was practically trembling with need. He followed you silently, his mind focused on only one thing: getting to a place where he could finally let go, where he could give in to the overwhelming desire that had been building up inside him.

As soon as you were alone, his restraint crumbled. He pulled you close, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate kiss, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that had been held back for far too long.

You smiled against his lips, knowing that you had him exactly where you wanted him. "Good boy," you whispered, your words sending a shiver down his spine, and Leon's eyes darkened with desire, his breath hitching as he prepared to show you just how much he needed you.

His eyes met yours, filled with a desperate need that made your heart race.

"Please," he whispered, his voice shaky. "Please, I need you."

You leaned into his neck, biting and sucking marks at his pulse point as your hand slid down his stomach, teasingly close to where he ached the most. You could feel his heart pounding, his breath quickening in anticipation as he let out a soft whimper.

You pressed a desperate kiss against his mouth before reminding him to keep quiet.

Leon whimpered, but he nodded again, his body trembling with the effort to remain still. You rewarded him with a soft kiss, your lips barely brushing his as your hand finally reached the waistband of his pants.

Your hand slipped inside his pants to wrap around his throbbing cock. His eyes rolled back in his head as he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. "Just focus on me, Leon. I'll take care of you."

You stroked him slowly, your thumb brushing over the head of his cock, smearing the pre-cum that had gathered there. Leon's hips bucked involuntarily, a strangled moan escaping his lips before he could stop it. You tightened your grip slightly, reminding him to stay quiet.

"Shh," you soothed, kissing him deeply to muffle any further sounds. He kissed you back with a desperation that only fueled your desire, his hands gripping your hips as if to ground himself.

Your pace quickened, your hand moving faster over his length as his breathing became more erratic. You could feel him getting close, his body tensing as he struggled to hold back.

"That's it," you whispered against his lips. "Let go for me, Leon. Be a good boy and cum."

With a muffled cry, Leon obeyed, his body shaking as he came hard into your hand. You continued to stroke him through his orgasm, your other hand gently caressing his face as tears of relief and pleasure spilled from his eyes.

"Good boy," you murmured, kissing away his tears. "You did so well."

Leon slumped against you, his breathing slowly returning to normal as he basked in the afterglow. You held him close, your heart swelling with affection for the man in your arms.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with gratitude. "I love you."

"I love you too, Leon," you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

"Now, let's get back to the party before anyone notices we're gone."

He nodded, reluctantly pulling away to adjust his clothes. You did the same, both of you sharing a secret smile as you stepped out of the closet, ready to face Leon's coworkers once more.

[andersonfilms]

SWEET RELIEF (MINORS DNI / EIGHTEEN+)

notes. this request is a beautiful, god send. i've been wanting to write about this, but i've kinda been too scared to bc i wasn't sure if anyone would like it. nonnie, u made my week with this request nd i really hope it doesn't disappoint. i changed it a little bit, but not too much. yeahhhhh, i might be ovulating bc?????? anyways.

content desc. eighteen+, huge mommy!kink, sub!abby, dom!reader, masc coded!reader, tall!reader (coded) my lil shorties can still read it too, reader picks up abby, brief mention of reader working out, oral (abby!r), anal (just spit on), fingering, mentions of strap use, squirting, light degradation.

“you’ve been such a good girl. you deserve a reward, don’t you?” your stunner of a girlfriend was bare in front of you. she’s your personal adonis, every muscle sculpted to perfection. her abs clenching, anticipating what your next move would be. freckles scattered around her body, her pierced nipples were so sensitive from all the teasing, swollen and pink, just the way you liked them. abby’s moans were erratic, shallow breaths as you touched her everywhere except where she needs most.

“baby, please. need you to fuck me…so good. jus’ like you always do. you’re pretty little mouth, yeah? need you to taste me.” abby begged as her she found herself shivering. “i’ve been so good, so so good. i didn’t touch myself the entire two weeks you were gone. i’ll do anything, say anything. i just want you to fuck me.”

“you will, won’t you? my babygirl is so desperate to be fucked? isn’t that right?” you flick her clit with your digit. abby cries out your name, deprived of your touch for two weeks, she savors in every moment.

“god, you’re the only one who can make me come. couldn’t even if i tried without you.” as sweet and sensitive as she appears, intentional hands reach for your belt tugging at it, but you slap abby’s hands away.

“nothing is coming off until i make you cum at least….twice on my tongue. does that sound good, baby?” abby eagerly nods, not wanting to per long this any further.

you’re looking her dead in the eye, before your hands wrap around her thighs and pick her up, surprising your girl in the process.

“have you been working out?” you shrug like it’s nothing. abby leans in softly, her lips pressed against yours. she’s never been more attracted to you than she is right now. her strong legs are wrapped around your waist, clinging on as your throw her on the bed.

you climb onto to the bed with her, grabbing ahold of her hips and rotating her body so abby is sitting on her calves, legs bent, sculpted back facing you. she’s fucking divine, as she sits patiently waiting for your touch to guide her. you drinking in her beauty and for the first time, drowning has never sounded so lovely. pretty girl perfectly still for you. there’s nothing more than you need to fuck her so stupid. her cute eyebrows furrowed whenever you ask her question. abby does it when she tries to focus, but all that happens after is stuttering, maybe a fragment of a sentence, before she’s begging to let her come.

tonight isn’t going to be any different. she knows it as you sit behind her, your legs spread so her frame fits, but she doesn’t lean back. abby knows from experience you’ll punish her if she does.

“baby, i don’t think you’ve ever been this good.” you slowly undo the braid cascading down her back. her hair smiles of pine and lavender. you want to drown yourself in the scent.

abby keeps her hands at her sides, but you can tell she’s struggling. her strong hands are balled into fists, knuckles practically pearly white.

“now, bend over for me and show me your pretty hole, baby. show me what belongs to me.” you slap her ass as you lean on your hands, watching her follow your command.

the arc in her back is sinful as she supports her weight on her hands, her knees pressed against the mattress, her pretty pussy is deliciously wet. you’re itching for a taste, but not until you’ve got her a whimpering, pathetic mess.

you bent over her frame, your clothed body pressed against her exposed one. you whisper in abby’s ear, “does mommy have to show you how it’s done? apparently you’ve forgotten, babygirl.”

you create some space before placing a firm hand on her neck, planting her face first in the plush duvet. your hands trails down her spine, pressing enough so she gets the idea. abby arches her back like she’s a fucking pornstar and god you eat it up. she could turn her strength on you, the two of you know that, but she wants to shut her brain off and get fucked and you’ll happily oblige.

you kick her thighs apart further. abby whines but she doesn’t argue.

“babygirl, that’s what i’m talking about. just stay, just like this.” you slap her ass and she jolts forward, her moan caught by the duvet. your hand smooths over the skin, before slapping her again. “good girl. fuck yeah you are. hmm?”

you spit in her puckered hole, your saliva slides down and flows over her cunt. abby wants to just fuck you, wants to full her pussy on yours, she’s so sweet and you’re being a tease. it’s torture. pure fucking torture, but she just has to patient. you’re always so good to her. she knows she’ll get it eventually after you make her cum, but fuck she’s impatient and she wants it now.

for now, all she can do is beg.

“yes mommy, all yours.” abby manages to get out and you slap her cunt as a reward.

“want me to eat out this pretty cunt out? wanna feel my mouth make a mess of this pussy?” abby cries at your words, hands she loves touching the back of her thighs, inside of them, but never where she’s dripping for you.

“please, please, please. i need it so bad. you have no idea how much i missed you, mommy. couldn’t stop thinking about this.”

“thinking about what? tell me babygirl, don’t spare a single detail. you know how much i love hearing you pretty voice, abs.” you kiss her ass, as she struggles to continue. your teeth biting into her well earned glutes and you love to see the shiver wrack her body as she struggles to collect her thoughts.

“i thought about your fingers, how good they feel inside me. i-i thought about when you fucked me the last time, your cunt rubbing against mine and how good it felt. how i squirted all over you and fuck how you just keep going.” abby moaned, overcome with just the thought. “but i mainly thought about your tongue, your mouth sucking on my clit, fucking my pussy as you talk me through it.”

there it was, the soft sniffles clueing you to the tears streaming down her full cheeks. now, you could fucking ruin her.

your plump lips found home on her pussy, soft flicks of your tongue made purchase on her clit. abby was relieved at the sensation. you flattened your tongue against her vulva, her hips rotating so she was riding your skilled muscle. euphoria, it’s all abby felt. all she wanted to feel was this.

she could cum from this alone, but your middle and ring finger found her entrance easily, no resistance was met as you slide them inside her.

“mommy, you feel so good inside me. ah, yeah, right there. oh god, yes, yes, oh mommy. please don’t stop.”

“stop? is that what you said?”

“no! please…i-i need you to make me cum. please make me cum.”

“you think you deserve it?” you taunted abby, moaning against her pussy as your slurped up her sweet nectar, sending a shockwave through abby’s core.

your fingers are hitting the delicious spot deep in her pussy, and you’re hitting it over and over, not relenting for a moment. your tongue joins the whole with fingers for a moment, dipping in and it’s just enough to send abby reeling. not enough to make her cum, but she’s screaming your name, so loudly you wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors abby woke up your neighbors.

“tell me how good it feels, babygirl. yeah? maybe then i’ll let you come.” you command her.

“it feels amazing, mommy. i can’t get enough of it. fucking me so good, so perfect. love being your good little slut. let you do whatever, whenever, just please don’t stop. i’m getting so close.”

“yeah, are you going to cum all over my face? on my tongue?” you grab at her clit with your lips, pulling the bud into your mouth, before flicking it over with your tongue. you circle around the pearl, isolating as you suck on it. your fingers picking up the pace brutally.

abby sounds like an angel being drained by a succubus and maybe it’s what you were. your undergarments were ruined as you humping, well nothing, because this is what it did to you. when abby got off, so did you. she’s so close, you know she is.

you pull from her clit, your thumb doing the work for you so you can press against her frame and whisper in her ear, “cum for me babygirl. yeah? that’s right. squirt all over my fingers like i know you can. such a pretty girl, aren’t you? give it to me, baby. cum right now and i’ll ride your face tonight? c’mon angel, give it to me. right now.”

she does. all over your sinful fingers, she squirts and she gushes over over you as you fuck her through. “oh baby, you’re so good. such a perfect babygirl for me.” abby’s hips ride your fingers as her body wants to collapse, but your free hand holds her left hip and supports her weight.

“feels so good, mommy. fuuuckkkkk.” abby tries to not whimper as she feels the aftershocks of her orgasm hit her like a freight train. your fingers leave and she feels empty again, but you shove your fingers in her mouth and she sucks immediately. tasting herself as your hands press against her throat.

“such a pretty baby, aren’t you? jus’ need your holes stuffed and fucked?” you laugh cynically. “now, let me ride that gorgeous face of yours, alright baby? then, i’m going to fuck this pretty pussy with my cock. would you like that babygirl?”

“please mommy.”

[pekoehoneyncream]

Ghoaptober # 3

Prompt: Hurt

Words: 5100~

TW: Distressing/Negative Sexual Experiences, Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Restraints, Intersex Omegas (NOT sfw)

This version of Ghoaptober was created by @spadesandshovels

Please note that all the Distressing/Negative Sexual Experiences are not between Ghost and Soap. I think this one is right on the line for dub-con, so proceed with caution if that's something that might trigger you. If this is missing any trigger warning please do let me know!

I've always had an itch to subvert the 'omega desperately needs to get fucked during their heat' trope, so I honestly shouldn't be so surprised that this one got away from me like it did.

Enjoy!

As an omega, Soap had started preparing for his heat a good month in advance, he’d gathered up his favourite nesting blankets and made sure they were freshly laundered, he’d scouted a good Heat-Hotel that was nearby and booked a room, he’d even secured a partner. Some of the other omegas on base had been touting this new matcher app, that they’d reportedly had massive success with, so Soap had decided to give it a whirl and signed up. What’s the worst that could have happen, he was no doubt better trained than any of the civvies he’d be meeting up with. 

He’d been talking to an alpha named Dominic Wilckes and when the subject of his heat had come up, Dominic had asked if Soap was looking for a partner. With no reason to say no, Soap had said yes. He’s spent heats with and without partners before, and found accompanied heats to be much more manageable. 

Soap was in his room at the Heat-Hotel now, securing a layer of waterproof Heat-Sheets over his carefully arranged nest. When his heat was spiking he didn’t care, but when he was in a lull or was coming down, he hated having his nest being a messy, sticky, uncomfortable, ruined heap of blankets. So he’d learned how to weave a sturdy nest and had invested in specialty sheets that would keep it clean. 

His phone buzzed rapidly on the table, it was Dominic.

“here”

“safe n sOund solotions?”

“in the lobby”

“whr r u”

Dominic was a nice guy, but Soap could admit that the way he texted was a bit annoying. Having his messages open to send Dominic the room number reminded him that he hadn’t texted Ghost yet. He pulled up his location and sent it to his Lieutenant along with a quick text,

“At Safe & Sound Solutions, Room 348, Booked for three days, Should be back Tuesday.”

His message showed as being read within the minute and while he was waiting to see if Ghost would reply another message came in from Dominic,

“come down”

Soap reread the message, why would he need to go down to the lobby? Maybe there was an issue Dominic needed help with? Confused, but willing to help, Soap texted back a quick ‘On my way.’ and headed out, his riled instincts insisting he double and triple check that he’d locked the door to his room. That he made sure his nest was safe from intruders.

In the lobby, Soap found Dominic leaning up against the wall next to the lifts with a bag at his feet. Walking over, he tried to spot where the problem was. 

“Dominic? Whit’s wrong?” Soap questioned,

“Hey, John. Some of the people were giving me weird looks. I needed you to come to show them I’m not some creep hanging around for nothing.” Dominic stood from his lean and stepped into Soap’s space, bringing his arm up to rub a wrist over Soap’s nape. Scenting him. Soap let him, tilting his shoulders so the other man wouldn’t accidentally brush his mating glands, they got heinously sensitive when he was heating.  

“Oh, alrigh’,” Soap privately thought that Dominic was overthinking it, if anyone was looking at him weird it was for loitering around in the lobby, but not actually sitting in any of the many chairs scattered throughout. The lobby of every Heat-Hotel that Soap had ever visited always looked like Moses had called a plague of plush chintzy furniture down upon them. 

Soap led Dominic back into the lift, pressing the button for his floor. A chime from his phone brought his attention to the fact that Ghost had replied, he’d reacted to Soap’s message with a thumbs up and had sent back,

“Rog.” 

Ghost had a habit of reading his notifications as soon as he could, but often didn’t have the time to actually reply until later. 

“Who’s that?” Dominic asked, peeking over Soap’s arm to get a look at the screen. 

Soap locked his phone, the smile that had pulled up the corners of his mouth falling away. 

“Mah L.T. He likes tae know every’hings guid.” Soap replies, watching the numbers of the lift ding over to his floor and stepping out.

“Your L.T? What’s that?” Dominic crowded up against his back as he tried to finagle the keycard into scanning properly and unlocking the door. 

“Mah Lieutenant.” Soap pulls the door flush closed, grips the handle to make sure it’s sitting straight, then tries sliding the keycard through at a snail's pace. The light flashes green and he whips the door open before it can change its mind, sending a silent thanks out to Price for teaching him how to sweet-talk card readers. 

“Oh yeah. You're in some kinda military army thing right?” Dominic’s realization carried a strange tone of praise. 

“Yeah, U.K.S.F,” Soap clocks Dominics blank gaze and spells it out for him before he can ask, “United Kingdom Special Forces,”

A light comes on behind Dominic’s eyes, but a skeptical look crinkles his nose. “But can’t only U.K citizens join?” 

It's Soap’s turn to stare blankly, “Aye?” the answer carries a subtext of ‘you dumbass’ that Soap couldn’t have stopped if there were hostages at stake.

Soap watches Dominic’s confused look intensify. Good, they could be confused together.

“But aren’t you Irish?” 

“Nae!” Soap refutes, that idea in need of immediate culling, “Ah’m nae Irish. Ah’m a fuckin’ Scot!”

“Oh, I didn’t know Scottish people could join the British army?” 

Soap searches Dominic's face for any sign that he’s joking, Dominic looks earnestly back at him. 

Jesus Christ.

He’s not joking. 

“Scotland’s a par’ ae the U.K,” Soap says hesitantly, leadingly, begging Dominic to spend one brain cell on remembering his First Year geography lessons.

“Oh, Alright.” Dominic shrugs in a ‘whatever you say’ manner, that makes Soap think he’s doing it more to drop the conversation than he actually believes what he’s been told, “Are you already set up? When does your heat kick in?”

Dominic glances around the room, looking over Soap’s preparations, dropping his bag off his shoulder onto the desk pressed against the wall. Why a Heat-Hotel thought its room's occupants might need a desk, was the true mystery of the night. 

Soap shakes himself free of the disbelief clogging his brain, and checked his watch, “Wi’hin the ‘our, mebbe twen’y minutes?” 

Dominic shoots him an odd look again, clearly thinking something over.

“Whit? Whit’s wrong?” Soap glances around himself, but nothing looks wrong to him.

“Your accent’s cute, John, but it’s a bit hard to understand you. You know?” Dominic's tone is assured, almost complimentary, “It’s gonna be hard to know what you want if I can’t understand you.” He coaxes, like a parent reasoning with their toddler to not bite electrical cables. Like it’s what was best for everyone.

Baffled, Soap stares at him. He’s never gotten flak about his accent from his previous partners, everyone else had seemed to enjoy it. At least, Soap had thought they’d enjoyed it. 

“Aye,” Soap swallows hard, his stomach roiling “Eh- Uh- Yes. I can- Um- I’ll try tae- to speak,” flustered, Soap stutters through his answer as he tries to flatten his accent, “I’ll try to speak clearly.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Dominic nods at him, “Now,” he slaps at his own thighs “where are we setting up? On the bed?” He walks over to the bed, toting his bag, and starts rummaging through the nightstands,  “They don’t have anything here, it's a good thing I brought my own stuff.” 

Soap eyes him as he approaches the nest, wincing as his tossed bag knocks free a carefully stacked pillow. Dominic clatters around a bit more, checking the minifridge and all the drawers in the desk. 

“Where’s your stuff?” He turns back to Soap.

Soap points wordlessly at the gutted dufflebag he’d carried his blankets over in. 

“Oh, you don’t use toys? A good omega? Like whining on your fingers instead?” Dominic’s voice dripped with sudden lascivious intent, he dropped his head to eye Soap through his lashes, licking his lips and petting his hands over his bag, “That’s okay, baby. Alpha will take care of you. I’ll give you everything you need.”

Soap inhaled shakily. He must not laugh. If he laughed he’d be out of a heat partner and his instincts would insist on him moving the nest. If he moved rooms he’d have to update Ghost. Ghost would worry about why he moved rooms and insist on checking on him. If his L.T came within one city block of him when he was on his heat Soap was dragging that alpha into his nest and not letting him leave. Soap did not want his L.T to write him up for fraternization. 

He must not laugh. 

“Oh yeah?” Soap eked out. Dominic must take the breathiness of his voice to be anticipation and his look only grew more seductive. 

“Yeah, baby. Come get comfy in your nest and Alpha will show you the presents he brought.” Dominic pats a hand on the nest, then gives it a surprised glance, “These are the blankets you want? They’re not very soft.”

Soap explains about how he doesn’t like his nest getting dirty as he crawls up onto the bed, petting a proprietary hand over his nest. It’s not like the blankets were scratchy terrycloth or anything, they were Heat-Sheets, they were made specifically for heats, they wouldn’t sell if they weren’t comfortable. 

“Here,” Dominic reached forward and Soap frantically knocks his hand away before it could tear into his nest. The judging look that Dominic shot him was completely uncalled for. What kind of psycho fucks with an omega’s nest. 

“What,” Dominic furrows his eyebrows at the omega, “I was just gonna show you a better way to do it. You could put a soft sheet on top, so you’re not laying on something so rough. I know omegas are super sensitive about that kinda stuff.”

“Nae- No. No, it’s fine like this. Thank you, Dominic.” Soap assures, sliding over to sit on the bed directly in front of Dominic, firmly between his nest and the alpha. 

After eyeing him for a moment longer Dominic shugs and turns back to his bag, muttering something about omegas being so picky under his breath. 

“I got you that water you like,” he says, pulling three litre bottles of Volvic mineral water out of his bag and setting them on the nightstand. Soap felt warmed and a touch shocked, he’d only mentioned that he likes Volvic best in passing. The warm feeling vanished when the next item Dominic pulled from his bag of tricks was a tall omegaen guard-collar.

“I know it’s usually that alphas wear muzzles for heats and omegas wear collars for ruts, but the skin on my face is super sensitive and I’ll get a rash if I wear a muzzle,” Dominic explained, handing over the collar when Soap hesitantly reached for it. 

It was made of good thick leather, fastening with two buckles in the back instead of a cheap zipper. The things that were throwing Soap off were that it was much taller than the typical guard-collar, how it flared out at the bottom to cover over his trapeziuses, and along with the four D-rings spaced around its middle, it honestly looked more like a posture-collar. 

“I was looking into the failure rate of guard-collars and this one has amazing reviews and no accidental bites,” Dominic supplies, tapping at the collar in Soap's hands, “Do you need help putting it on?”

Soap absently nods, not really processing what’s being said to him, and finds the contraption out of his hands and strapped around his neck within two heartbeats. Hands coming up to scrabble at the new pressure squishing his mating glands Soap gives a startled yelp and Dominic quickly grabs his hands. Shushing and cooing at him, giving his hands a firm squeeze when he tries to pull away. 

“It’s alright, omega. You’re doing so well.” Tuning out Dominic's crooning, Soap focused on calming his breathing. In for four, hold for four, out for four. In for four, hold for four, out for four.

With his breath under control Soap can admit that the collar isn’t as restrictive as he’d feared, he can breathe fine, and turn his head. Looking down or up presses a bit, but it’s not terrible.

Focusing on himself for a moment also revealed to Soap that he’d been so busy judging Dominic that he’d completely missed his body cresting through pre-heat. Taking another deep breath Soap warns the alpha that he’ll be going into full heat in a minute or two and watches the shocked look take over Dominic's face. It’s not surprising to Soap that Dominic hadn’t noticed, Soap’s scent has never been particularly loud and he’s not throwing himself at the alpha like the needy heat-drunk omegas do in films. 

The next few minutes are admittedly blurry to Soap as his body plunges into full heat, when he comes back to himself he’s face down with his ass up in the air and Dominic is playing between his thighs. By the wetness dripping down his legs Soap guesses that he’s already cum once, that or Dominic drools more than Eas A’  Chual Aluinn. 

Giving a pitching whine, Soap tries to get up onto his elbows and finds that the guard-collar wasn't Dominic’s only gift for him. There are soft leather cuffs secured around his wrists, latched closed with simple carabiners and attached to one of the D-rings of his collar with a short chain. Stopping him from lifting his head more than about twenty centimetres away from his hands, and consequently, the bed. 

“Do- Dominic?” He pants through his confusion and feels the man pull his tongue and what felt like three fingers out of his hole. 

“Back with me, omega? You’re doing so well. Getting so wet for me. Cumming so pretty.” Dominic rumbles, reverent fingers coming back to pet over Soap’s twitching hole. 

Soap pushes back into the touch, feeling achingly empty, his lower belly cramping with the need to be filled. 

“Alpha, please,” he whines “Need your knot, please, please, knot me, ple-”

“Hush.” Dominic commands and the omega’s jaw snaps shut, “I’m not done with you yet omega, be quiet and settle down. Take what alpha gives you.” 

Tears prickled behind Soap’s eyes. He got his elbows under himself and lifted his head up off of the nest as far as he could, breathing easier without the blankets in his face. He yelps when hot suction suddenly seals around his cocklet with three fingers plunging back into his hole to bully his sweet spot. Thighs shaking Soap is pushed into another orgasm, face falling back into the sheets, muffling his squeals when Dominic doesn’t let up. Hard sucks and forceful strokes propelling him through one orgasm and directly into the next. 

His honest yelping coaxes Dominic off his cocklet, “Poor omega,” The alpha croons, petting over his thighs and grabbing at his ass, “So needy. It’s okay, alpha’s here. Alpha will give you what you need.” 

“Knot- Knot me. Alpha, please. Need it.” Soap begs shamelessly, the heat roaring through him stoked by his untied orgasms, his body painfully demanding for him to be knotted and filled.

“I don’t know,” comes Dominic’s teasing reply, leaking more false sympathy than Soap’s hole was leaking slick, “Have you been a good omega? Do you deserve my knot?” 

“Yes, Yes.” Soap nods as much as the collar allows, carefully smothering his accent, “Please, need it.”

“Okay, omega. Alpha will help you.” Dominic’s fingers pull out of him and an actual sob escapes Soap when instead of a cock, he feels a tongue push into his hole. He purposely turns into the sheets to muffle his cries, his instincts rioting, his climbing temperature making him feel sick.

A brief unwelcome stroke over his asshole yanks him from his spiral. His head snaps up, eyes wide and stinging with unshed tears. Did he imagine it? His chest heaves and he freezes perfectly still, staring blankly down at the tangle his nest has become. 

A finger, wet with what he can only assume is his own slick, prods past his rim up to the second knuckle and Soap gives a startled yowl, “Nae! Nae! Donnae do tha!”

“No?” Comes Dominic’s skeptical tease, his free hand squeezing goadingly at Soap’s hip “My poor Omega doesn't want all his heated holes nice and full?”

Soap frantically shakes his head, lacking words, but filled with denial. Tears knocked loose and coursing unseen down his cheeks.

“Alright,” Dominic agreed, no less skeptical, but slowly withdrawing his finger regardless.

When Soap felt that same finger slide down to line up with his hole’s entrance the omega is willing to admit that he may have come a little unglued.

He snarled, wriggling and kicking back at the alpha, yanking bruises into his wrists in the shape of the cuffs that bound them. Soap managed to thrash his way upright and huddled up against the headboard. Hissing at the flabbergasted alpha knelt at the foot of the bed, giving another throat tearing snarl when Dominic tried to reach for him. His instincts in full control and having decidedly assessed the alpha to be a bad heat partner. 

Keeping his full attention on the man, Soap brought his wrists up and bit open the carabiners, untethering the cuffs from the collar then unfastening the cuffs to slide them off altogether. His freed hands immediately moving behind his neck to unbuckle the collar, fumbling blindly and growling with bared teeth when the alpha made a move towards him. Managing to finagle the first buckle loose, he unhooked the second with much more finesse. Tossing the collar aside, Soap heaved a breath of relief, hands coming up to rub at his sore mating glands, the glands feeling nearly bruised from the constant pressing of the collar. 

“John, Calm down,” Dominic spoke up, voice slow and hesitant, “Everything’s fine, stop freaking out,”

Soap would have liked to close his eyes and regroup, but really didn't like the idea of leaving Dominic unsupervised. Instead he started up his breathing exercises again while keeping the alpha firmly within his sights. In for four, hold for four, out for four.

“That’s good. Just calm down,” Dominic praised, stretching forward to reach for Soap’s drawn up knees. 

Soap tossed the idea of regulating his breath out the window and drew himself up, “Dominic,” he grinds out of a throat that only wants to produce growls, “Do. Not. Touch. Me.” 

Dominic sat back on the bed, stymied, thoroughly confused, and a little offended. 

Soap’s temperature was spiking, though the want to be knotted and filled had completely vanished. Falling forward onto his hands, Soap panted for air, sweat pouring down his skin. His vision was fading, the sound of Dominic saying something coming through muffled, like his ears were stuffed with cotton. Chills and prickles raced up his spine to dance over his scalp. His throat felt like it was shrinking to the size of a straw. 

Something wet touched his bottom lip and he was automatically gulping down the water before he consciously made the decision to drink. The ringing faded from his ears just enough for him to hear Dominic.

“-hn, I called the emergency line. There’s a nurse comi-”

Soap’s vision blacked out.

When he blinked back to himself he was flat on his back with something cold pressing against the nape of his neck and his legs being held aloft by a beta woman that was standing beside the bed. Struggling to get his eyes to properly focus, he grunted his confusion.

“Hello, Mr Mactavish. I’m Kelly. How are you feeling?” The beta, Kelly, spoke with a voice that was friendly, but not perky. More of a matter-of-fact warmth. 

“Pre’y shite,” He groaned out, letting his eyes fall closed again as he rubbed at his face. Dimly registering that a thin blanket had been draped over his hips to cover his unmentionables.

“Yeah, I’d guess so,” Kelly commiserates, gently lowering his legs back onto the bed, “Could you keep your knees up for me? Just like that. Perfect. So, Mr Mactavish, you’ve just had a rather bad bout of Heat Rejection,” Kelly informs him, while keeping a grounding hand on his obediently raised knees, “It’s completely natural and not at all life threatening, the symptoms should level out within the next twenty-four hours. You’re welcome to ride it out in the medical suite here with us, or if you have someone that you can call that can sit with you for that time you’re free to leave.”

Soap slowly thinks this over, cracking open an eye and blearily noticing that the room is empty of anyone but Kelly and him. “Dominic,” he grunts, not quite managing to make it pitch up into a question.

“I asked Mr Wilckes to wait in the hall, as I wasn’t sure if his presence would make you uncomfortable.” Kelly is a consummate professional, but Soap thinks he can detect hints of scorn flitting about the corners of her eyes, “I can call him back in if that’s what you want.”

“Nae.” Soap denies, “Nae, I dun wan’ ‘im ‘ere. If ye coul' pass me mah phone I’ve someone tha’ can take me outta y’ur hair,”

Kelly kindly fetches his phone, though she doesn’t let him sit up to make the call. Eyeing Simon’s contact, he mentally apologizes to everyone on the base for the chaos he’s about to unleash, then hits dial.

He’s barely had the time to move the phone to his ear when the call is picked up.

“Johnny?” Ghost’s harried voice barks down the line, “What’s wrong?”

“Why’s some’hing gotta be wrong fer me tae call ye, L.T,” Soap bitches, trying to calm Ghost down from the lather he’s no doubt already worked himself into, “Gonnae gi’ a man a complex,”

“What’s wrong, Johnny” The voice that rumbles from the phone is pure domineering alpha and it kicks a reflexive placating whine from Soap’s chest. 

“Si, ah need ye tae come ge’ me,” Soap mumbles down the line, his bravado drowned by the sudden twisting need he has for Ghost to be here with him. 

“I’m coming, Johnny.” Is the immediate reply, and by the rustles coming from Ghost’s side of the call, Soap knows he’s hauling ass, “Can you stay on the call? Are you hurt?” 

“Ah’m fine, Si. Ah’m nae hurt,” Soap lets his eyes fall closed again, ignoring the judgmental look Kelly shoots him for his little fib. In his own defense, he’s not physically hurt. From what he knows of Heat Rejection, his body is just gonna be all kinds of outta wack while his hormones try to rapidly bring him back down to baseline. For now he’s content to listen to the sounds of Simon snapping at any unfortunate soul that dared get in his way. Soap only realises that he’s begun purring when a quiet answering purr comes from Simon. 

The slam of the room door opening jolts Soap out of the calm daze he’d fallen into and he reflexively punts the most pertinent object at the intruder. Unfortunately, that object happened to be the phone he’d been holding, even more unfortunately, the intruder was Ghost. 

Ghost easily ducks the unconventional projectile and covers the distance to the bed so fast, Soap could have sworn he teleported. From Kelly’s jump she also wasn’t expecting a man of Ghost’s size to move with that speed. 

Spooky bastard, his L.T.

“Ghost!” he cheers and is climbing up the alpha to nuzzle into his neck before he can rein in his rampant instincts. 

Omega and alpha freeze, Soap midnuzzle and Ghost with his hands reflexively clamped around his Sergeant’s bare thighs. 

Kelly, the blessed angel she is, gently clears her throat. Effectively snapping the awkward tension.

“Mr MacTavish is experiencing Heat Rejection and needs someone that is able to stay with him for the next twenty-four hours, or until his symptoms abate.” She looks up at Ghost, clad in his full skull-plated balaclava and half his field kit, without fear. Soap must have called while he was busy terrifying the rooks, “Can you do that?”

Ghost gives her a solemn nod, “Yes.” 

“Perfect,” Kelly starts listing symptoms, proper care practices, and things to watch out for when dealing with Heat Rejection and Soap is man enough to admit that he didn’t listen to a lick of it.

He was busy oscillating wildly between bone shaking horror that he was clinging to his Lieutenant while bare as a newborn, a deep seated greedy pleasure that Simon had come for him without question, and the brainless need to purr and rub against this perfect alpha until the rejected alpha’s scent was gone from his skin.  

Ghost’s hands gently squeezed his thighs, then loosened as he leaned forward a bit to encourage Johnny to stand on his own. Soap gave a petulant whine, but a reassuring purr and a gentle pat to his thighs had him reluctantly hopping down. Before his instincts could coax his better sense into indulging in a full blown pout for having to give up his prize, he was distracted by the sight of Ghost knelt at his feet holding out a pair of trackies for him to step into. 

If the mere thought of any kind of sexual touch didn’t currently make Soap want to run all the way back to Alba, Ghost on his knees for him would be a very enticing image, he couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t be the only thing on his mind the next time the need to let off steam hit either. For now, however, Soap was tired to his core and was pitifully grateful for the help as he stepped into the trousers, letting Ghost draw them up over his hips. 

Feeling like naught more than a bairn, Soap threw his arms up at Ghost’s gesture and let the man pull a shirt over his head. The impression was not helped by Ghost then immediately picking him up and perching him on his hip. The man was only eleven centimetres taller than him, where did he get off manhandling him like he was some kind of waif. Soap grumbled to himself, but was disinclined to actually demand he be allowed to walk on his own. Content to wrap all his limbs around Simon, like a particularly lonely limpet, and purr like a motorbike while rubbing their jaws together. 

There was a bit of a scuffle when Ghost had to convince him to let go and get in the car, but by the time the car was parked again Soap was barely conscious. He dully registered Simon picking him up out of his seat, the tension falling out of his muscles when he recognized the smells of their base. He thought he heard Prize and Gaz, but their voices were far away and the rumble of Simon’s chest was nice against his. 

Johnny cracked open an eye when he was plopped onto a bed, content to drowsily track Simon as the alpha threw his duffle, once again stuffed to bursting with blankets, next to the laundry bin. Simon heading for the door sent an unpleasant jolt through him and he whined forlornly, desperate to keep his alpha here with him.

“I’m going for drinks and food, Johnny,” Simon assured him, coming back to pet a hand over his warhawk, “I’ll be right back, I promise,”

Johnny whined again, but did nothing more to stop Simon from leaving. He could also do nothing to stop his instincts from insisting that he had disappointed his alpha and the man was never coming back. Trying to appease the knots his logic and instincts were tying themselves into, Johnny started rumpling around in the bed he’d been deposited onto to make up a new nest. A deep rolling purr bursting from him when he realized it was Simon’s bed. No doubt the alpha’s instincts were also going haywire, demanding he protect the omega. No better place than the heart of his own territory for that, Johnny supposed. 

The door opened and Johnny’s reflexive hiss broke into another purr at the sight of Simon. He actually barked a few ecstatic chirps when the alpha dropped lovely soft clean scentless blankets onto the bed. Johnny hadn’t chirped since his age was in the single digits, but Simon bringing him blankets, his alpha contributing to their nest, was really doing it for him. 

Johnny lost himself in weaving the perfect nest, as he always does, and once he deemed it faultless he looked for his alpha. 

Simon was standing, backed against the wall on the other side of the room, with his hands palms out and his chin tipped up to expose his throat. His bare uncovered balaclavaless throat, to match his uncovered balaclavaless face. 

Oh, Johnny's alpha was perfect.

The omega might have gotten a bit overwhelmed by the sheer excellence of his alpha and he went limp to flop and roll in his nest, catching a glimpse of Simon flinching forward at his abrupt fall before realising what Johnny was doing and assuming his non-aggressive stance again, with a perfect peachy pink blush creeping up his throat to bloom over his cheeks. 

“Alpha,” Johnny called him over, patting invitingly at the nest.

Simon took a hesitant step forward and was pulled the rest of the distance to the bed by Johnny’s delighted chirps. The omega was still flopped, but curled around just enough to snag the loose fabric of Simon’s pants, retracting his hand and shaking it out with an unhappy whine when the fabric’s rough texture offended him. In the next second Simon stood before him in only his knickers. Johnny doesn’t think he’s ever seen Simon strip that fast, including that time when Simon's clothes had actually caught fire. 

Johnny gives a surprised meep, gazing wide eyed at the alpha stood vibrating before him, waiting for permission to enter his own bed. Then gets over it and hauls the man down into the nest. Pushing him around until he was in the perfect position for cuddles. Johnny purrs, burying his face into the warm nook between Simon’s arm and his side, whining when the alpha lifts his arm to give him more room, only purring again when he put it back where it was.

A hand comes up to hesitantly pet over his back, creeping up to scratch across his nape, digging into the base of his warhawk, and Johnny feels his purr drop down his throat to resonate in his chest. Announcing for all who cared to listen that Johnny considered himself to be perfectly safe, cared for, and comfortable. An answering purr kicked up in Simon’s chest and Johnny let himself drift off. 

Knowing Simon wouldn’t hurt him.

Thank You For Reading!

Let's all pray that Dominic wasn't still in the hall by the time Ghost got there, or pray for the opposite, depending on how much you hate Dominic.

So, did y'all know that Tumblr has a "4096-text-characters-per-block limit." ? Cause that was a fun discovery to have while I was trying to put this post together.

I'll admit that this one got minimal editing, if you spot something wrong lemme know!

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[threepandas]

Bad End: Restructuring

The blast doors on my office were stronger then the ones on most bunkers. They matched the one's on the company dorms AND my personal rooms. Thing is? They weren't designed to hold out forever. In fact, I was pretty sure they were a pretty bit of security theater, just to let us fleshys feel safe.

We weren't.

Not a single moment of a single day.

The pay was unmatched. But then again, it'd HAVE to be, with the mortality rate. The morbidity rate on top, too. You didn't take a job like this unless you were crazy. Or, you know, desperate. College loans, man. They get you over a barrel and don't let up. But a few years of this? I'd be clear an free~

Few MORE years? I'd ever have a tasty little nest egg to fall back on, in case of emergencies. I just... you know, had to play it smart. Be really, REALLY careful.

No slacking off. No getting comfortable. Vigilance and best manners. Then we all get to go home alive. Because what's out there? In the Labs? Those guys can pop diamonds like we crush packing peanuts. Highest grade, fancy ass, metal bars of specialty blend metals? Tied up in pretty little bows.

They may LOOK like some sort of waifish boy band... but God, they are NOT. They are really, REALLY not. And their "personality" matrix program thingies? Apparently still a work in progress. A LONG work in progress.

People have fucking DIED.

But does management care? Of course not. Pay out some life insurance. "It was an accident on the job". And "of COURSE steps will be taken to insure to never happens again". Ha! My ass, it is. And my ass, they are. They aren't doing SHIT. Nor are they GOING too. They're in too deep with this project, whatever it is. And us?

Well WE'RE expendable.

Just the cost of doing business.

I watch bleeding edge technology move like dancers, room to room. The wall of screen lighting up my cramped little office. The mini-fridge hums and the fan whirrs, filling the silence. I try to spot FM-036 on one of the screens. I can't find him and it makes me nervous.

He might be hiding. Trying to be polite, in his own way. Since there was an incident.

I FUCKING TOLD Ric not to call them "it"! I TOLD him! It aggravates them. Provokes. You don't DO that with something... some ONE, with that much physical power. 36 put their fist through his SHOULDER. And the God damned wall! He might LOSE his arm, which? Given their ability to calculate better then most supercomputers?

Was probably the point.

I notice one of the androids messing with a computer in a lab. Fuck. I lean forward, hating drawing their attention but knowing I have to do my damn job. I press on the speaker system for that room after a quick glance at the ID on their jumpsuit.

"FM-047, could you please not touch that? I know you are aware that you are not supposed to tamper, meddle, or otherwise engage with the researchers notes or electronics."

The android stop typing. Their head rolling up and to the side to look directly at the camera, their body perfectly still. The angle borders on impossible. Almost owlish, nearly snake like. All perfectly smooth movements effortlessly controlled. Joint not limited by human designs. His face is bemused. Pleasant.

"Of course, night gaurd. My mistake. Thank you for correcting me." He replies, something almost like laughter, nearly like mocking, but not quite, in his smooth voice. They always sound like they are... HUMORING us. Working around us.

It sends a jolt of cold fear though my veins.

I... I REALLY hate talking to the androids.

Pity, they seem to like talking to ME.

"I was unaware you were on shift tonight. I will update the others. It's good to hear your voice again, you seemed nervous, last time we spoke."

Yeah. Because you were asking PERSONAL QUESTIONS. Oh, sure, they had dressed them up as "We're so CURIOUS about Humans~☆" but I wasn't an IDIOT. You Did NOT, under ANY circumstances, try to bond with the machines. NO chatting. That was lesson number one from my trainer.

And Frank? Frank had seen too many "but THIS time it's DIFFERENT! We're FWIENDS~!" Incidents end in unspeakable carnage. Lost too many noobies. We DO NOT chat! With the machines!!! DO. NOT.

"Ah~, you made her nervous again, FM-047" came from a different screen. I flinched. Jerked back so I could see it. Oh god. "Besides, I told you. The calculations showed she wasnt going anywhere. The 'money' is too good."

The androids had stopped. Turned, in some cases unnaturally, to stare up at the cameras. At me. It was a blatant show of how interconnected they were. How distance meant nothing to them. How... how enmeshed they were, in the Lab's systems.

COULD they see me?

I didn't want to know. I NEEDED not to know. If only so I could continue to sleep at night.

They smiled, clearly hoping I'd engage. I wanted to. God did I want too. Wanted to demand "what calculations" and for them to STOP looking at me like that. But I didn't. With tense muscles I careful lifted my finger from the speaker system's button and leaned back. Crossed my arms like I was hugging myself.

Do. Not. Engage.

Remember what Frank taught you.

My... my office felt so claustrophobic. Painfully small. Across the screens before me, matching faces huffed laughs of condescending amusement. Some out right DID laugh. Bright and mean noises that echoed in silence of the night.

Humans? Frank had observed (and I kinda had to agree) were beneath them, in their minds. Flawed little flesh creatures. Annoying. It was something the scientists were trying to correct. Pretty sure they fucked up. Badly. And long, long ago.

Watching over these guys? Felt like watching over a sea of identical demons. Pretty, cruel, and incapable of human understanding. Fond of tormenting the nearest human for sport.

"Tell us, night gaurd, are you afraid?"

Oh that's just PETTY. Fucking cliché as shit, too. I mean, YES, obviously. But STILL. And... and you know what? Fuck it! Frank, gave me his number for a reason! I scramble for my belt. The communicator there. It barely rings.

"Mph, m'awake! Wus happin' kid? Come on, talk to me."

I ramble. Knees dragged up on my chair, curled in a ball. Frank's low, old man, rumble a soothing focal point. These guys are so creepy. I HATE that they KNOW that. Gleefully will TRY to be, sometimes. Can BACK IT UP.

"Hey, hey. I'll stay on the line, okay? You just need to make it to morning shift. They're are creepy lil shits, but they can't get past the doors. I'll come get you myself, okay? Walk you right back to the dorms. You're going to be okay, sweetheart."

I nod, even though I know the old man can't see me. Manage to crackle out a "Mmmhmm". The androids haven't stopped staring. The worst part? Is they realistically DONT HAVE TOO. Can stay, perfectly still, like statues... forever, if they wish.

Watching.

With those "I'm laughing at you" grins. That "aaaw, how PATHETIC" expression. As though I were a wretched little animal to be observed. I ask Frank to tell me about his new show. It's... it's something about socialites, right? Historical? He's glad too. Filling my office with the sound of his voice. It's gonna be a long shift.

I don't notice, high up on the wall, near the back of my office?

A security camera that I do not control. It's red light on.

The company has to be sure it's employees aren't slacking, after all! Aren't up to no good! But don't worry, THAT camera is connect to a database the androids shouldn't be able to access! Because we told them not too.

And THAT'S IT.

No one will learn of the security breach until its far, far too late.

Now? They watch as I watch them.

And it's just the beginning.

[earthtooz]

just a quick hawks idea that came to me <3 it's awkward lol but gn and pro-hero!reader

you might need to put your agency on lockdown.

admittedly, a hero agency going into lockdown was incredibly hypocritical, but when the threat was the number two hero himself, hawks, you can’t take any risks. everything must be secured so he cannot step even one foot into the premise or you’ll call emergency out of desperation and exasperation.

of course in the case of an actual lockdown, you would be expected to be there on the front lines which means you’d be the one responsible for being face-to-face with the problem. and if hawks flashed that charming smile at you or laughed that boyish laugh of his, you’d be surrendering. easy defeat.

but, the moment you’ve been dreading all day comes a little sooner than you expected, when three knocks on your door abruptly capture your attention and in comes one of your assistants. 

“ah, l/n? hawks is here and wants to see you,” she says, sounding a little overwhelmed. hawks can be intimidating when he doesn’t mean to be after all and well, you too were dreading meeting him for completely different meetings.

“don’t send him in,” you blurt, causing your assistant to widen her eyes in shock. you know she has the urge to ask why but quickly nods in affirmation before disappearing behind the office door once more. 

crisis averted. or so you thought as a sturdy, red feather begins dancing on your desk, one that you knew wasn’t there before.

it must’ve slipped in alongside your assistant and your heart drops at the realisation, especially when it becomes gesturing to your window; a signal you somehow recognise. 

“oh my goodness,” you mutter before turning around in your chair, coming face-to-face with the winged hero as he taps impatiently on your window, your chest already beginning to compress with the way your heart rate increased, and a thrill of exhilaration runs its course through your veins; two natural reactions that happen very commonly whenever you’re around hawks.

you hurriedly shut the curtains on his face, not having long to rejoice before his feather lifts up a portion of the blinds to reveal his unimpressed expression, coupled with an amused eyebrow raise and a dangerous smirk. hawks then gestures upwards with his pointer finger and you knew immediately that he meant to meet you on the rooftop of your agency; a place he likes to crash onto whenever he wants to. 

(you once asked him if he had better things to do than hangout on the top of your building and he replied that he’s there because he’s bored but you know otherwise. if there’s something about hawks it’s that he’s never free. his schedule was worse than yours and even then, yours was unmanageable. where he found a slot to loiter around your establishment, you don’t know. the bigger philosophical issue was why.)

you’re backed into a corner with nowhere to go but the rooftop and the wing that clung to your hero clothes was only emphasising the direness of your situation.

the moment you open the card-regulated door of your rooftop, hawks is already waiting for you, his face bursting into a dazzling smile as a glimmer appears in his eyes, ones that rivalled the sun. 

“there you are, sweetheart!” he greets, fluffing up his wings as the singular feather trailing beside you returns to its rightful owner. he takes generous steps towards you whilst you take smaller ones to meet him in the middle, your arms crossed over your chest in hopes of maintaining an apathetic front to deter him. 

it must not have been working because he does not look fazed. not one bit. 

“what are you doing here?” you grumble, subtly admiring the way his ruffled hair blows with the wind and how radiant he looks with the sun shining upon him. “don’t you have things to do that are more productive than bother me?”

“i am being productive; i’m chasing up on a deal that i made with you. maybe you need a little reminder to what it was?”

“please, don’t start-”

“-if i placed above you in the hero rankings this year, i would get to take you out on a date. remember anything along those lines, pretty?” 

you hide your face from him, using your hands to cover your eyes as you look away.

him, being the embodiment of your worst nightmares (daydreams), bends around so he would appear in your eyesight again and when you catch a glimpse of him, you just shut him out again using your hands. a deep chuckle spills from the winged hero at your childish insistence, genuinely entertained and infatuated by you.

“c’mon, stop ignoring me. i earned this date fair and square.”

“if i do not see, i do not perceive, please leave me alone.”

“oh c’mon number six, i’ve already placed reservations at a hot place i’ve been meaning to try together. won’t you be nice?”

removing your hands, you meet his gaze with a perplexed one of your own. “i’m serious, hawks, i have work to take care of. don’t you as well? we can’t just take breaks whenever.”

“and i’m serious about this date. so much so that i rostered more sidekicks on today than i normally do. everything is being taken care of so stop worrying, would i really be japan’s number two hero if i didn’t plan out every last detail?”

you huff, signalling his defeat. he was right. his surveillance abilities were off the charts. if anyone knew where danger was happening the second it occurred, it would be hawks. just- does he have to be so smug about it? it feels like he’s rubbing salt in the wound of your defeat yesterday at the hero rankings.

“fine,” you give in with an ungracious eye roll. “let’s go to this hot pot reservation of yours since you’re so insistent about how diligent you are.” 

“oh, do you find that attractive?”

“how about you take me out before i regret it?”

“as you wish!”

[tytarax]

Lingerie (Law x reader)

I drool for this man, please enjoy

---

It was a quiet evening on the Polar Tang, the low hum of the submarine providing a comforting background noise. You had been planning this for a while, and the anticipation only made your pulse quicken. After a long day, Law was finally relaxing in his private quarters, buried in a book about anatomy, his brows furrowed in concentration.

You stood just outside the door, wearing nothing but a lace lingerie set you had carefully chosen—a deep, seductive black that contrasted perfectly with your skin. Taking a deep breath, you knocked softly on the door, knowing Law's sharp hearing would catch the sound.

"Come in," his voice was smooth but distracted, his attention still focused on his book.

Pushing the door open, you stepped inside, feeling his gaze flicker up, and then freeze as he took you in. The change in his expression was subtle but unmistakable—his usual stoic demeanor faltering for just a moment as his eyes darkened with a flicker of something more primal.

"What's this?" he asked, voice low, the book forgotten as he placed it aside and leaned back in his chair, eyes slowly traveling up and down your body.

You took a step closer, the air between you charged with tension. "I thought you might want a break from all the work, Captain."

His gaze lingered on the delicate lace outlining your curves, his lips curling into a smirk as his fingers tapped idly on the armrest. "A break, huh? You sure you're not trying to test my self-control?"

You bit your lip and gave him a teasing smile, stepping even closer until you were standing right in front of him. His hand moved, tracing the edge of your thigh with a feather-light touch, sending a shiver up your spine. "Maybe," you replied, voice barely above a whisper. "Or maybe I just wanted to see how far it would take for you to break."

Law's eyes glinted with mischief as he stood up slowly, towering over you. His hand slid up your side, brushing over the lace, his thumb grazing your skin with deliberate slowness. "You’ve always been bold," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as his lips hovered just above your neck. "I like that."

You leaned into his touch, feeling the heat between your bodies rising as his hands explored. Your own fingers were already tugging at his shirt, undoing the buttons as his mouth continued to trail along your neck, teeth grazing against your pulse point, eliciting a soft gasp.

The rest of your clothes soon followed, his lips moving down to your chest as he kissed the curve of your breasts, fingers digging into your hips, holding you in place. Your breathing was shallow, and his eyes were filled with a fiery desire when he looked up at you. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "Once we start, there's no going back."

You let out a small laugh. "You know I want this, Captain."

Law chuckled, pulling away just enough to look you in the eye. "Alright," he murmured, his fingers gently brushing across your cheek, tilting your chin up so that his lips were just inches away. "Just remember, you're the one who's going to be begging me for more."

Your heart skipped a beat, and then he was kissing you again, his tongue sliding against yours in a passionate embrace, drawing a moan from your lips. He tasted like dark chocolate with a hint of sea salt and espresso, and his scent surrounded you, making you dizzy.

He guided you back until the backs of your legs hit the edge of the desk. With one hand, he cleared it off, books and papers falling to the floor as he sat you on the table. His lips never left yours, his hand cradling the back of your head as his other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly.

His kisses grew more desperate, the heat of his mouth sending tingles across your skin. His teeth tugged on your bottom lip, eliciting another soft moan from you. Then his lips were on your neck again, and you tilted your head back, arching against him.

His mouth was hot, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin just below your ear before biting down lightly, the sensation shooting straight to your core. Your body trembled as he sucked and licked, the intensity building, causing your toes to curl and your hands to grip his shoulders.

Suddenly, he pulled away, his gaze smoldering, his pupils blown wide, the look in his eyes almost animalistic. He reached behind you, pulling open a drawer, and withdrew a thin strip of silk.

"Close your eyes," he said, his voice rough with desire, the authority in his tone making your core ache even more.

You obeyed, shivering with anticipation. The silk brushed over your cheek, and then Law's voice was low and soft in your ear. "You're going to keep these on until I say so. Do you understand?"

You nodded, and then he was kissing you again, his arms sliding under your legs as he lifted you off the table and carried you to the bed. He laid you down gently, and then his mouth was back on yours, his tongue teasing and coaxing until you were squirming with need, gasping for breath.

His lips moved lower, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your neck and chest, his teeth grazing over your collarbone. You could feel his arousal pressed against your thigh, hard and insistent, and you moaned as he rubbed himself against you, his hands skimming over the lace covering your breasts.

"Let's take these off," he said, his breath hot against your ear, his fingers working the clasp. In a moment, the lacy material fell away, leaving you bare to him. He sat back, his eyes roaming over your naked form, the intensity of his gaze making your skin tingle.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, and you could see the admiration in his expression, mixed with lust. He leaned down, his tongue darting out to taste the swell of your breast, and you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

"Please, Law," you whispered, arching against him. "I need more."

He chuckled, his teeth tugging lightly on your nipple, and you gasped, the sensation sending a rush of heat straight to your core. "So impatient," he murmured, his hands roaming lower, stroking the inside of your thigh. "I want to savor every inch of you."

You could feel the ache building, and his teasing only made it worse. He seemed determined to take his time, his lips trailing across your skin, his fingers dipping between your legs, exploring and teasing until you were whimpering with need.

"Law, please," you begged, your voice hoarse.

He lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire. "Not yet," he murmured, his thumb rubbing slow circles around your clit.

You squirmed, the sensation driving you crazy, the throbbing between your thighs becoming unbearable. "I can't wait any longer," you gasped. "Please, I need you inside me."

Law groaned, the sound sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. "Fine, but you have to promise not to come until I say so. Understood?"

You nodded, too far gone to argue. "Yes, Captain."

His hand slid down your stomach, his fingers teasing your entrance. You moaned, your body trembling as he slipped one finger inside you, then two, his thumb still stroking your clit.

"God, you're so wet," he growled, his voice strained. He curled his fingers, hitting a spot that made you gasp and writhe beneath him. "That's it," he murmured, his mouth moving to your neck, nipping and sucking on the tender flesh.

The pressure was building, and you couldn't hold back any longer. Your hands clutched at the sheets, your toes curling, and then you were crying out, the orgasm washing over you, the pleasure intense and overwhelming.

"Not yet," Law said, his voice low and husky, his fingers still moving inside you.

You arched against him, his words sending a fresh wave of heat through you.

"Again," he ordered, and you obeyed, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until you couldn't hold back any longer, the second release hitting you with even more force, the waves of pleasure nearly drowning you.

Law pulled his fingers out, his eyes burning into yours. "Don't move," he commanded, his voice thick with lust.

You shivered, your body aching for him, the need so intense you could hardly stand it. He stood, taking off his pants and boxers, and you stared at his erection, mouth watering.

He knelt on the bed, positioning himself between your legs, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. "Tell me how much you want this," he murmured, his voice a low growl.

"I want you, Law," you gasped, unable to stop yourself. "Please, I need you inside me."

He let out a soft groan, his hands gripping your hips. "Say it again."

"Please," you whimpered, your body trembling with anticipation. "Please, fuck me."

Law pushed forward, burying himself inside you in one swift movement. You moaned, the fullness sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. He stayed still for a moment, his gaze locked on yours, his expression hungry.

Then he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, his hands roaming over your body. You clung to him, lost in the feeling, the pressure building again. His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, his cock hitting the perfect spot inside you.

You moaned, the sound echoing in the room, your body shuddering with the force of your release "Don't stop, please."

Law growled, his voice thick with desire, his fingers digging into your hips. "I'm close."

You arched against him, your body writhing beneath his, the pleasure intensifying until you couldn't take it anymore, the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

Law groaned, his body tensing, his thrusts becoming erratic. He came hard, his seed spilling inside you, the sensation pushing you over the edge, the orgasm even more powerful than the first.

You collapsed, panting, the intensity of the experience leaving you speechless. Law slumped next to you, his breathing ragged, his skin slick with sweat.

"Fuck," he breathed, his arm curling around you. "Now you know what will happen if you ever dress like that again."

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "I think I can live with that."

You rested your head on his chest, and he stroked your hair, the steady beat of his heart a comforting lullaby.

Kinktober

[gojos-thot-patrol]

ignore that this is late, and short, it's been a hell of a week <3

Now Loading: Kinktober Week Four...

Synopsis: Nanami was always calm and composed, never losing his cool. It was a gift that became particularly handy when you were writhing on his cock, begging him to move, please. And he wanted too- God knows he wanted too. But you looks irresistible when you were this desperate, and he wanted to savor every second of it. Kinks: Cock Warming, Daddy, Degradation, Praise, and Edging

Nanami had always been patient with you, and now was no exception. He gently rubbed your hips through your slutty angel costume with his thumbs, almost smiling at the way you looked at him- with pathetic tear soaked eyes.

“Your s’ big..” You moaned softly, filling the sounds of his living room with your soft sighs. “It's too much..” It wasn’t fair. You were a shaking desperate mess, and Nanami looked as perfect as ever. Fake horns set perfectly on his head, red demon suit neatly fitted to his body- even the eyeliner along his water lines was smudged with perfect purpose. It all added to the intense arousal you were feeling, making you even more overwhelmed. 

“You can handle it Princess,” Nanami said as he wiped a tear from your cheek, “Daddy wouldn’t give you anything you can’t take.” He knows you can take him, you’ve done it countless times in the past. But, you always seemed to forget that fact when you were slowly sliding down on him, taking him inch by inch. Finally you were fully seated on him, letting out a shaky breath. You gripped the upholstery of his soft couch, trying to ground yourself. 

“Atta girl.” He praised. He loved seeing you like this, desperate and needy for him. He could feel your cunt flutter snuggly around him, and it drove him crazy. It was a feeling he was anticipating since he picked you up for the Halloween party, one he had grown addicted too. You quivered around him, taking him into your warm pussy and you tried not to focus on the way the fat tip of his cock rested on your sweet spot. If you did that before he started to move- you thought you might lose your mind.

You knew better than to ask for him to move. You knew better than to demand anything of Nanami. Patience was a virtue when it came to him, he’d give you anything you wanted with time. But, knowing that didn’t make waiting any easier. Patience may have been a virtue, but it was a virtue you severely lacked. 

“Aww, is my pretty girl feeling frustrated?” He asked as he brushed yet another overwhelmed tear from your face. You nodded, only for his fingernails to dig into your hips. You wouldn’t get another warning.

“Yes Daddy,” You confessed. He nodded his approval.

“Why are you so frustrated princess?” He asked with a slow roll of his hips, one that pulled out an almost pained moan from you. You moved to dig your manicured nails into him and bit your lower lip, fighting the urge to lash out at him when he didn’t move again. He couldn’t fight the small but wicked smirk that formed on his face as he took in your visage. Pent up anticipation taking over your entire body, your thighs trembling around his hips. God, he loved you. He loved how easily fucked out you were. He had barely even touched you and you were so so desperate for him. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a major ego boost.

“I asked you a question, brat.” He sighed, never happy to repeat himself. 

“I’m sorry…” You whimpered for your transgression, “I-I just want you so bad..”

“I’m right here Princess, you’re going to need to be more specific than that.” He hummed as he kissed your cheek. He decided to cut you a little slack, “Do you want me to fuck you Pretty Girl, is that it?” He asked with another teasing roll of his hips, sending sparks of pleasure through your core, “Do you want me to fuck you like the pretty little whore you are, fill you up like a slut?” 

“Yes, oh my god yes.” you begged. He could feel you clench around him, letting him know loud and clear how his words affected you.

“Yes what?” He was annoyed, but his tone was still laced with dark playfulness. 

“Yes Daddy.” You nodded and he ran his hand through your hair.

“You’ve been slipping up a lot tonight Princess,” He pointed out, “Do you really think you deserve to do anything other than warm my cock tonight?” Your eyes widened with panic at the mere suggestion he wouldn’t finish what he started.

“No daddy, please! I’ve been trying so hard to be good, please. I want you so bad..” you begged, “Please, let me be a good little cumslut for you.” It always made Nanami’s heart flutter when you spoke his language.

“Listen to you Princess,” He said, finally finally starting to move, rolling his hips up into you and finally giving you the friction you needed, “Begging like a whore for me. Do you even know how much of a little slut you are?” He asked. You moaned softly, moving your hips in time with his.

“I’m not a whore..”

“Yes you are,” He laughed, “Look at you, begging for me like a good little cocksleeve, fucked stupid when I’ve hardly touched you. You’re desperate for dick.” He smirked. He fought a moan as he bucked his hips up into you. Your thighs- plush enough to break an angel's fall- quivered around his hips and drove him feral.

And you were melting in his lap, the relief from finally getting fucked exploding in you and mellowing out into pure ecstasy in your core. Your body was always hypersensitive to Nanami, and his movements were quickly pulling you to the edge.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m-” You almost screamed when he pulled out of you, looking at him with desperate and angered eyes. Eyes that filled him with pride and a wicked sense of glee. “What, why-?”

“I didn’t say you could cum yet, did I Princess?” He purred softly to you, laying your back on the couch as he towered over you. You whined softly as you writhed under him. 

“No but-”

“No buts, you know the rules.” He said, slapping your pussy in warning. You yelped as he did, bending your knees as a reaction.

“Daddy! That hurt...” You whined, and he fought to not roll his eyes. 

“No it didn’t baby girl, you’re being dramatic.”

“Am not!”

“I’m going to do it again.” He said, and made good on his promise. It was different though, this time instead of shock, the lewd sound the slap made had you biting your lip as soft pleasure mixed with the pain. “Did you like that one Princess?” He asked. 

“Yes Daddy..” You knew better than to lie. 

“There was no difference between them. Daddy knows you better than anyone, baby girl, I won't push you more than you can handle.”  He promised. He leaned down and pressed a harsh yet measured kiss to your lips. One that was far quicker than you would have liked, and you found yourself chasing after him as he pulled back.

He moved down between your legs, kissing harsh hickies into the fat of them. He smiled at your dripping cunt, mouth watering as he watched it quiver. “Well, aren't you pretty?” He praised, grabbing you by your hips and pulling you closer to him, “So wet and needy for me, begging for my attention.” He punctuated his sentence with a sharp kiss to your clit, “and so sweet too. Absolutely perfect.” He purred.

Finally his mouth found your clit, possessively spelling his name in your sensitive nub with his tongue as his fingers slipped down to work at your wet pussy. His thick fingers started to work into you, curling up into your soft sweet spot and leaving your back curling off of the couch. Bliss was quickly building up inside of you, sparks of fire threatening to catch and burn into an inferno. 

You were on fire.

Your hands fell down to tangle into Nanami's hair, pulling him closer to your needy core as you blatantly rode his face. A shiver of euphoria ran down your spine, and you whined softly as you realized just how close you were. 

“Please, I need to cum so bad-” You begged, only for Nanami to take your hands out of his hair and pull back. You considered violating the Geneva convention. You had been denied twice at this point, and quite frankly it just wasn’t fair. “Daddy, please!” You whined, tears of frustration pricking your eyes and falling down your cheeks again. 

“Don’t worry Princess,” He assured you as he kissed away your tears, “You’ve been a good girl. I’m going to get you off, but I’m going to get you off on my cock.” He threw your ankles over his shoulders as he sunk back into you, pushing his entire length in all in one go. A choked moan ripped through your throat as he impaled you, your sensitive pussy struggling to accommodate the sudden stretch. 

“You feel so good Princess,” He praised as he set a brutal but measured pace. “So warm and tight-” He fought back a moan, “You were made for me, designed specifically to be mine. I’m gonna fill you up so full, You want that sweet girl?”

“I want that so bad.” You begged, getting lost in the pleasure he was giving you. You were barrling to the edge of a cliff, the precipice of pleasure, at ten thousand miles an hour with no breaks. Your sensitive body was exploding with lust and ecstasy with every thrust of Nanami’s hips, and you felt absolutely delirious with need. The pleasure was pooling quickly in your stomach, and it was going to overflow.

“I’m cumming!” you warned.

“Cum for me Princess, cum all over your daddys cock.” You were under Nanami’s spell, your body at his command. The moment he gave you permission, you were coming undone. Your thighs tightened and trembled, body suddenly feeling so heavy and yet so light all at the same time as stars exploded in your eyes. Your brain dumped all of the dopamine reserves into your bloodstream, bliss and ecstasy overflowing inside of you. 

Your cunt gripped down on Nanani, pulling him what felt impossibly deep, and bringing him to his edge. He pushed himself fully in. Thick cockhead pressed against your cervix as he came deep inside of you, warm thick ropes of his load filling you up and warming you from the inside out. He fucked you for as long sa he physically could, riding you through both of your highs. A plethora of curses mixed with your name fell from his lips before he finally collapsed on top of you. 

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, before he moved both of you into a more comfortable position on the couch. His cock was still nestled inside your welcoming cunt. He justified it by not wanting to make a mess. He kissed your cheek as he cuddled you close.

“Did I do good?..” You asked softly, sleep already threatening to take you. Nanami smiled fondly and kissed you again.

“You did amazing my love,” He praised, “Now get some sleep.”

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・ Taglist ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

thank you lovlies, for supporting my work! @sk8ttles, @blkkizzat,@littyasatittyyy,@ketchupsush1@my-names-angel-but-im-not-one, @ryomens-vixen, @yihona-san06 , @risuola, @bontensbabygirl, and @aureliaviolet3

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And if you wanna read week One, you can find it: Here!

And Week Two: Here!

And week Three: Here!