#not going to say i like it a lot. but it came out okay
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Extra credit. It started with a glance. She lifts her skirt, showing off the day’s panties to her teacher. Just a little peek. Flustered, she hides them again. “Very good start.” Says her middle-aged professor. “Sorry they’re nothing special.” The girl flashes her plain white underwear for a few seconds. His tone is calm and soothing. “You’re learning.”
Those few glimpses are worth remembering. She doesn’t have his class today, so she locks herself in a bathroom stall. When she pulls her panties up, the outline of her pussy is clear as day. A quick photo is sent to her teacher. Excellent. I can see you’re taking your assignments seriously. The girl smiles at his texts, soaking up his praise. Looks like you’re enjoying yourself, too. The wet patch on her panties is obvious in the snapshot.
Show and tell. The girl reaches into her bag. Laying out her sex toys on the desk, her teacher inspects them carefully. “Uhm… this one is my favourite…” She points to a small vibrator as he rubs her back. “Can you even fit this?” He asks, tapping on the veiny dildo. The teacher’s hand rests on her bum. A little squeeze. “…not really…” She shifts awkwardly. “Okay, let’s start with that one, then.”
Her assignment is clear. A toy in her cunt every class and every lecture. Afterwards, she stays behind to let him check her work. “Stronger than you’re used to, huh?” Her new lacy white panties hang around her socks. The professor eases the buzzing bulb out of her pussy. Pink and wet, he strokes his hand along her overstimulated cunny. “Yeah, but I… uhm… masturbate lots. So, I was okay.” Two fingers slip easily into her hole.
He sends her a movie. The girl nervously eyes its long runtime. I’ll get right on it, sir. Alone in her dorm room, the thick dildo is pushed into her pussy. She can start when it’s all the way inside. The teacher watches her messages come in over the next hour. I came already, sir. I came again. They’re so rough with her. Came again. It’s only halfway done. My legs are numb. I cumd agn. She’s such a whore. I’m going to watch it again. I came again.
The teacher pushes on her head, holding his cock in her throat. Her favourite vibrator snuggles against her clit. The girl’s thong is pulled aside so she can feel everything. He pulls her shirt open, gripping onto her bare tits. They have the whole study block to themselves. A puddle forms on the floor, dripping spit and tears from the student’s assignment. Her jaw aches. She strokes his cock against her wet face, letting his cum cover her pretty smile.
Spring break. Her friends go home for the week. The girl stays. She learns how much pussy spanking stings when she’s only wearing crotchless panties. The teacher visits her regularly. Showing up unannounced, he pushes her up against the wall. The man takes her when he pleases. He dumps his cum inside her hole then leaves. Returning a few hours later, the teacher finds her in bed. She doesn’t stop rubbing as he forces himself on her.
Graduating with honours. “Looks like I can’t bribe you with credits, anymore.” The teacher jokes. The girl doesn’t respond. She bends herself over his desk. The same place she first showed him her panties. Under her skirt is just bare pussy. He touches her crotch, finding her perfectly smooth and wet. There’s nothing else to say. A firm grip on her shoulder. He thrusts his cock into his former student. A slap on her ass, and she pushes her hips back into him.
#kxsalt#kxsalt short#kxsalt teacher#kxsalt ap#kxsalt praise#teacher x student#teacher crush#1cky teacher#teachers pet#bd/sm kink#submisive and breedable#bd/sm blog#corruption kink#cnc free use#bd/sm daddy#free use slvt#daddy's good girl#bd/sm corruption#sexy schoolgurl#daddys good girl#good slvt#daddy’s little girl#daddy k!nk#rough daddy#daddy’s wh0re#spank me daddy#free use kink#age g4p#older men do it better#older man younger woman
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more pizza girl
You're fucked.
It's the only way to explain how you feel, standing in the store, staring at bottles of liquor, wine, beer. You don't even know if this is the appropriate thing to do, but you've always seen it in shows, movies, so it must be, right?
You should have said no to this whole thing, should have told them you're busy, or you're working, or you had plans, but for some reason, you just knew they'd see through it. They'd call your bluff.
So here you were, staring at a rack of wine, trying to pick something to take to their house for dinner.
Even the thought is a marvel. You're not a complete shut in, you visit the few friends you have on occasion, your family, attend work functions, but this is different.
You know it is.
"Excuse me?" A petite old lady chirps at your shoulder, and you turn. "Do you need help?"
"Oh, um... no."
"You sure? It's just you've been standing here for almost thirty minutes." Fuck.
"I'm fine." It comes out more assertive than you would have liked, and she backs away without another word. Great.
You choose a six pack and book it out of there.
Their place is cozy. Not too small, not too big, clean and organized, orderly.
Except for the dog.
He's massive.
And slobbery.
And... not for you.
Simon realizes immediately, and herds him away behind a baby gate, where he promptly slumps to the floor and closes his eyes, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth.
"He's..."
"Ye dinnae have to say cute. We know he's not."
"He's a mutt," Simon tells you, placing a bowl of something hot on the table, "but he's ours. Rescued him an' everything. Never liked pets but... found him on the street an' for some reason couldn't leave him behind."
"That's so sweet." He shrugs, Johnny rolls his eyes.
"Didnae tell me a thing. Just came home with a giant slobbering bear." You eye the table and it's three chairs, suddenly overflowing with anxiety. Which one should you pick? Which ones are theirs? Do they sit next to each other? Doesn't someone always sit at the head of the table? "Take a seat wherever," Johnny coaxes but you remain frozen, avoiding their eyes.
A hand folds over your shoulder with gentle, careful pressure, and warmth. "This one." Simon urges you towards the one in the middle, and you relax, grateful.
"Sorry." You mumble, but Johnny reaches across the table and squeezes your hand.
"Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry for. We're really happy you came."
"I... I'm glad I came too." The admission tries to stick in your throat before you force it free, and they reward you with soft smiles.
"Let's eat then."
Dinner passes in a breeze. It's so easy to sit with them, be around them. Involved in their conversation but comfortable enough to bow out of it too, and just listen. They're very good at navigating it, knowing when to stop and go, when to ask you something, and when to move on.
"If you want to stay for a bit, we were thinking about watching a movie. Afraid we're not really exciting." Simon calls over his shoulder, unfolding his glasses and slipping them on his face.
"Oh." Just do it, do it, do it- "Okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah but no... nothing scary. I can't do those." Johnny jerks his head towards the couch.
"Nothin' scary."
Simon doesn't give you the opportunity to stress over the seating arrangement this time, and points immediately to the left side of the couch. "The button down on the side will extend the footrest, and it can lean all the way back."
"Wow." Johnny settles on the other side, and Simon takes up an overstuffed armchair to your right.
Lots of distance. You kind of feel sad about it.
Your eyelids start to droop after an hour, and no matter how hard you fight it, you're in a losing battle. "I think I should go home." You mumble, and Simon pauses the screen.
"You alright?"
"I'm falling asleep." You don't make any moves to get up, instead curling in closer, tucking your hands under your cheek. The room is warm, the couch is soft, and the dog is snoring, which is comforting, in a weird way. "Should call an uber."
"We'll drive ye."
"No, no... I'm-" you yawn. You don't want to move, and when no one says anything, you let your eyes close for a few minutes. Just a few minutes.
In the dark, who knows what time or how many minutes or hours later, a blanket is tucked around your shoulders, shoes slipped off your feet, and someone strokes your cheek, trailing up over your forehead and away, lingering briefly.
"Sleep tight sweet girl."
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dreams, fairytales, fantasies
pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd
word count - 7.9k
c/w - language, drinking, fluff, and ofc smut (sub p, sub a, strap, eating, fingering…it’s a lot) (also heavy usage of pet names bc i am a sucker for them)
a/n - this is just a real depiction of what happens when lesbians go two weeks without sex 😔. no but fr, i hope yall enjoy!!! (feedback much appreciated, esp bc this is not edited) (also, im majorly crediting the smut queen @basketball-lesbians bc ease and stiff changed the way i write smut forever).
The much anticipated make-up sex doesn’t happen until a week later, which is about six days after they’ve actually made up—which they manage without the involvement of sex. And that’s a great thing for them, considering they have a history of resolving arguments via orgasm, but they also can’t give themselves the credit because the no-sex thing wasn’t really their decision. (If it had been up to them, Azzi would have jumped Paige’s bones that very night they made up).
That day, though, was spent talking, reliving their breakup and the horrible year afterward for the sole purpose of truly processing it. They had continued talking during that time, of course, claiming to be ‘best friends’, but they meticulously danced around the topic of their high school relationship and the fact they were both miserable once it ended, grieving it in their own ways. They talked for hours, and both of them quickly came to realize that there was so much they hadn’t told each other. Azzi was shocked to hear that Paige spent her entire freshman year moping around, never getting out and having fun like Azzi wanted her to do. (“Seriously? I thought you hoed around?” she said when Paige gave her this information. Paige shrugged and said, “I told you I did, so I didn’t seem lame. But yeah, no. I smoked a lot and looked at our pictures and that’s—well, yeah, that’s pretty much it.”)
Paige was just as shocked when Azzi told her she tried going on a date with someone else, just to get the breakup off her mind, and they kissed at the end of the night and she went inside and cried for a long time. (“I didn’t know you went out with anyone,” Paige said, not particularly jealous, just a little hurt because even though they were exes that year, they were still best friends, and they usually told each other everything. Azzi picked her thumbnail, eyebrows drawn at the memory. “It hurt too much. I didn’t even tell my mom.” That, if possible, made Paige feel even worse).
Anyway, by the time they talked everything through (with some crying involved, and maybe a little kissing, too), it was late at night and they were both emotionally exhausted from the day. They’d gotten ready to sleep and laid in Azzi’s bed and murmured about how much they’d missed each other for about two minutes before they promptly assed out.
And then it was the week, their time consumed with classes, homework, practice, and even grownup things like grocery shopping. They spent as much time together as they could, practically magnetized to each other, attached at that hip when they were in the same vicinity. But they were both swamped with homework and while they tried to do it together that Monday, they quickly realized that it was impossible to focus around each other. Or at least, Azzi did. (“C’mon, we’re doing okay,” Paige said, at approximately 1 A.M., when they had been at it for four hours and had gotten absolutely nothing done. “I wouldn’t say that, P,” Azzi mumbled, slinging her bag over her shoulder and pecking a sulking Paige on the lips. “No more school around each other, ‘kay?” She couldn’t help but be amused at Paige’s exaggerated pouting. “I think we’ll be okay. See you tomorrow, baby.”
That night, her phone had blown up with messages from Paige, most of them silly selfies of her pouting at the camera as she sat at her desk with schoolwork laid out in front of her. Even that was enough to distract Azzi from her work).
So, no, it’s not until Saturday—the night of their second-first date—that the make-up sex (that can’t really be considered make-up sex anymore) happens. But, as the saying goes, good things come to those who wait. And that must be true because that night turns out to be very good indeed.
It all starts before the two of them are even together, with Azzi picking her outfit for their date. She’s never been good with decisions, and this is a big one in her book. She needs to wear the perfect outfit—something sexy and cute and romantic and alluring all at once. An hour into choosing the outfit, Caroline is beginning to regret offering to help.
“Okay, you’re just overthinking it now,” she says, exasperated, watching as Azzi frowns at herself in the mirror.
“If I don’t overthink it I’ll end up looking ugly,” Azzi says, turning this way and that in the mirror, making sure the outfit looks good from every angle. But when she takes a step back, leans her head to the side just so, and turns to the left, the shirt suddenly makes her look atrocious. With a frustrated sigh, Azzi takes it off, tossing it onto the ground.
Caroline groans, flopping onto Azzi’s bed. “What was wrong with that one?”
“Everything,” Azzi replies, going back to her closet to try again. “Has my wardrobe always been this bad?” she mutters to herself.
“You look good in everything, Az,” Caroline says. “And your clothes are cute. Paige is going to love you in whatever you decide to wear.”
Which is true—Azzi could be wearing jorts and a flannel and Paige would still swear up and down she’s the prettiest girl in the world. But love and want are two different things. After two weeks of no sex Azzi needs to be wanted.
“You know what your problem is?” Caroline asks as Azzi rummages through her clothes.
“What?” Azzi asks, sort of desperately.
“Your bra,” Caroline says simply.
Azzi looks down at her bra, then turns to Caroline, a little confused. “It’s a cute bra, though?”
“Yeah, it’s cute,” Caroline concedes, leaning back on her hands and giving Azzi an up-and-down look. “But I thought you were trying to get laid tonight?”
Azzi nods, because duh she’s trying to get laid tonight. It’s all she’s been talking about all week.
Caroline wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Then, this isn’t really about your outfit. It’s about what’s underneath.”
As she stares at her genius best friend, Azzi nods slowly, starting to get it. “I need lingerie.”
“Yup.” Caroline smiles, satisfied. “As soon as you put some sexy panties on, I promise you, girl, you’re gonna feel better about yourself.”
Azzi is already reaching back into her closet, opening her special drawer and rifling through it. “Should I wear one she hasn’t seen before?”
“Yeah, for sure,” Caroline agrees, standing up and walking over to Azzi, peering over her shoulder at her array of underwear. “And don’t tell her you’re wearing it, either. It has to be a surprise.”
Azzi pulls a few sets out, but none of them particularly catch her eye, and it isn’t until they’ve been searching for a few minutes that Caroline reaches into the closet and grabs a still-sealed box, the logo of a designer lingerie brand on the lid. “What about this?” she asks.
It takes a moment for her to remember what the box contains. She’d bought it just a month ago, on a whim, and while it had cost her a fortune she also couldn’t not buy it. She’d, of course, had Paige in mind when she’d bought it, but they haven’t exactly had lingerie sex in awhile—with their busy schedules, they’ve only had time for spur-of-the-moment quickies and lazy mouths and fingers in the mornings before practice.
But this—this is going to be post-date, make-up sex. The absolute perfect occasion to wear insanely expensive lingerie catered specifically for Paige.
With an excited smile, Azzi (with the help of Caroline) gets all laced into the set. And once it’s on, it becomes surprisingly easy to choose the perfect outfit. Because Azzi knows, by the end of the night, Paige will forget all about what she’s wearing, the memory replaced by what she’s not.
———————————————
Paige, of course, tries to fuck her multiple times before they even get to the restaurant. It starts immediately, when she comes to pick her up and they share a chaste hug and kiss, and Azzi takes the flowers from her hands and turns to find a vase to put them in—Paige’s eyes trail down to her ass and stay there for longer than she’d like to admit. And then Azzi is carefully arranging the flowers, talking about how excited she is for their date, when Paige comes up behind her and holds her tight. It’s a gesture that Azzi thinks is innocent until Paige kisses her neck and murmurs, “You look good, Az. Makes me wanna make us late for our reservation.”
Azzi’s entire body heats at that, but she playfully shoves Paige away, not about to let their hormones get in the way of this date.
But then, it happens again, in the car on the way over. Paige’s hand rests on Azzi’s thigh while she drives, which isn’t unusual, and Azzi doesn’t question it—that is, until her fingers trace a slow but sure path between her legs. Azzi lets it go farther than she probably should, only pulling Paige’s hand away once she’s fully touching her clothed center. Laughing, Azzi returns Paige’s hand onto her side of the car. “Your thigh-touching privileges are revoked for that.”
Paige groans. “I didn’t even do nothing, don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Just keep your hands to yourself, weirdo.”
And when they get to the restaurant, Paige opens her door for her, guides her in by the small of her back, pulls out her chair. It reminds Azzi of a more mature, experienced version of the Paige she dated in high school, and it reminds her exactly why their relationship was so perfect back then. It also reminds her of the aching need between her legs, the one that’s been there for two long weeks and that now practically burns in anticipation. But, she forces herself to ignore it, to just focus on the romance of it all. Paige decides to make that difficult by running a foot up and down her calf, and when she hisses at her to stop, Paige laughs and says, “You’re imagining things.”
It’s not five minutes later that Paige picks up her phone and begins typing. A flash of annoyance comes from the side of Azzi that thrives off attention, more particularly Paige’s attention, and that’s so used to constantly having it it’s a little off-putting when she doesn’t. But then, a moment later, her own phone buzzes, and Paige sets her’s down with a satisfied little smirk.
Azzi rolls her eyes. “You’re stupid.”
“Look at your phone.”
“That’s rude,” Azzi teases. “We’re on our first date.”
“We’ve been on a million dates before,” Paige says, which is technically true. “Look at it.”
Amidst the usual lighthearted, joking tone of Paige’s words, Azzi also catches a hint of something demanding, something that leaves no room for argument—at least, not without repercussion—and it makes it impossible to focus on the setting they’re in without also thinking of the events that will occur when they get home.
She picks up her phone, and there’s a text from one ‘P Boogs 💗’. When she opens it, she finds a stupid, horny text, nothing short of what she expected: can we go fuck in the bathroom or??
Rolling her eyes, and a little relieved that Paige didn’t actually write anything sexy (because if she had, Azzi’s not sure she would’ve been able to resist), she kicks her under the table and sets her phone down. “No, Paige. What’d I say about no more public restrooms?”
Reminiscent of a small child, Paige crosses her arms and slumps back in her seat. “I rebuke that.”
“You don’t know what that word means,” Azzi waves her off, before motioning to their plates. “Now eat before your food gets cold.”
Azzi has only two glasses of wine, so by the time they’re driving home she’s the perfect amount of tipsy. Wine also tends to make her horny, which doesn’t hurt the situation.
“You’re really okay?” Paige asks for what seems like the millionth time. “Because if you’re even, like, a little drunk, we don’t have to—“
“Paige,” Azzi says before she can finish that god-awful sentence. “I’m mostly sober. We’re all good.”
Paige glances over at her, and when she sees the firm look in her eyes she nods, relaxing into a sly smile. As she focuses back on the road, she says, “Good. Because I have an empty apartment tonight.”
The thought of it—the thought that Paige asked her roommates to clear out for the night, knowing what was to come—makes Azzi shift in her seat. The ache between her legs is crossing into painful territory at this point.
By the time they get inside Paige’s apartment, every instinct in Azzi’s body tells her to jump Paige’s bones as soon as the door is locked behind them. But Paige doesn’t really give her a chance—first kicking off her shoes and then immediately heading towards the kitchen. Azzi trails behind her as she opens the fridge.
“Hungry?” Azzi asks, a little confused considering they just had a fairly large meal at dinner. But Paige shakes her head, reaching into the side drawer of the fridge and pulling out a seltzer.
She waves it at Azzi with a smile, though it’s a little unusual—almost wavering? Not the familiar one Azzi’s used to. “Wanted a little drink.”
“Okay,” Azzi says slowly, leaning against the counter, watching as Paige cracks the can open. She shouldn’t be surprised—she herself is tipsy and it’s only fair that Paige would want to catch up after she had to drive. But Azzi has been a little blinded by the filthy thoughts that have been playing through her head all night, and was under the impression they’d fuck against the front door the minute they got home.
She’s already waited two weeks, she reminds herself. Paige only needs a drink or two—they don’t want to be drunk, not tonight—so what’s a couple more minutes?
“It’s kinda hot in here,” Paige says abruptly, and when Azzi looks at her, her cheeks flush. “Isn’t it?”
Azzi’s a little warm, but it’s mostly a mix of the alcohol and pure horniness, so she shakes her head. “Feels okay to me.”
“Oh,” Paige says, and then takes a long swig of her seltzer. She offers up that strange, wavering smile again.
Azzi studies her. This is her best friend, the girl she knows better than she knows herself. Paige is practically an extension of her at this point, it’s that easy for them to read each other. But right now, Paige is acting strange in a way Azzi can’t quite place. She’s been flirting like normal all night, but now that they’re alone she’s putting space between them. And that’s not to mention the blushing, the weird smiling, and the need for a drink.
As Paige takes an extra-long gulp of seltzer, it finally clicks where Azzi has seen this behavior from her: Back in high school, not long into their relationship, the first time they had sex.
She’s nervous.
But, no, that can’t be it, can it? They’ve slept together countless times in the four years since then. Paige knows Azzi’s body like the back of her hand. There’s no reason to be nervous.
Sure that she’s got it all wrong, Azzi crosses over to Paige, watching the way Paige’s gaze falters as she sidles up to her. “Hey,” she says, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck, “you good?”
Paige blinks, then swallows thickly. “Me? Yeah, I’m all good.” She takes a sip from her drink. “Why you asking?”
Azzi hums, bringing a hand down to guide Paige’s free one to her waist—something she usually never has to do, as Paige tends to be pretty handsy. “You’re acting…weird, all of a sudden.”
Paige gives her a long, hard look, and Azzi thinks she’s about to deny it again but then Paige is sighing and setting her drink on the counter behind her, wrapping both arms around Azzi’s waist. “I guess I feel a little…nervous, for some reason?” she shakes her head, locks her hands behind Azzi’s back as if to steady them. “I’on know, bro. It’s stupid.”
Azzi shakes her head, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of Paige’s neck. “It’s not stupid.”
“Kinda is,” Paige says, chuckling at herself but it’s a shaky, breathy sound.
“Hey,” Azzi says gently, bringing a hand up to brush a stray strand of hair from Paige’s face, “if you’re not up to it, we don’t have to.” (Even though she spent the entire night suffering through a thong up her ass. The things we do for love.)
But Paige firmly shakes her head, gripping Azzi’s waist more tightly just to show how much she means it. “No, I don’t—you have no idea how much—“
“Yes, I do,” Azzi says incredulously. “I really fucking do.”
Paige’s breath hitches, and her gaze flicks down to Azzi’s lips. Azzi does the same, allured by the shiny gloss there, knowing it’s vanilla flavored from their previous chaste kisses tonight. She wants to taste more of it. Wonders if Paige’s lotion is vanilla, too.
“P,” she murmurs. Paige’s eyes don’t waver away when she hums, “Yeah?”
“Don’t be nervous,” she says quietly, bringing a hand down to cup her cheek, which gets Paige to look at her. “You know me,” she almost whispers.
Slowly, Paige nods, and when she leans down to connect their lips, Azzi nearly groans at the slight contact. It’s chaste to the point of innocent but it’s something, and they’re alone, and god does Paige look so good in this outfit. Paige readjusts, shifting so their legs are slotted together as she deepens the kiss just slightly, and Azzi reminisces on how she’s been waiting for this all night. Since that fateful night at Ted’s, really.
With Paige’s leg between her thighs, Azzi takes the opportunity to bare down, just slightly, only enough to increase the tension between her legs more than relieve it. But Paige groans into her mouth at the feeling and it lights her senses on fire.
They found a good dynamic years ago, and it’s one in which Paige often leads, allowing Azzi to follow without giving her the responsibility of being the first to move, to make decisions—something she’s always been more hesitant with. The past six months they’ve experimented some, stepping out of the comfort zone they had in high school and trying new things. But they still found that, for the most part, Paige prefers to lead, and Azzi prefers to be led—it just works.
But, even now, as Azzi dips her tongue into Paige’s mouth and brushes it against her’s, Paige still seems a little withheld. It’s obvious that she’s overthinking this, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why—this is big for them. They’ve talked about their feelings and gone on their first date and this feels a little like the last step in a routine that will throw them back into that all-consuming, intense relationship they had in high school. Which is exciting, and it feels natural, like it’s only the right thing to do—but it’s a little scary, too. And, knowing she’s being expected to lead, Paige is worried about getting it wrong. Messing up, somehow.
So when Azzi pushes against the fabric of Paige’s blazer, letting it slip off her shoulders, it’s not really a conscious thought that she’s taking over this time. It’s just—something she needs to do. And, if the absolute fire in her belly says anything, it’s something she wants to do, too.
Opening her mouth a little wider, Azzi sucks Paige’s tongue gently between her lips, drawing it out slightly, and when she pulls off it she opens her eyes to find Paige with her mouth wide open, tongue out, barely five minutes into kissing and already looking so desperate for her.
The sight makes Azzi groan a little, her eyes trailing from Paige’s lips, to the curve of her jaw, to her slender neck, and without thinking about it she slides her hands around Paige’s throat, squeezing experimentally. It elicits the right reaction, Paige’s eyes widening, hands sliding down to Azzi’s ass.
Pulling her close again, Azzi ducks down, moving a hand to the side to kiss sloppily at the skin revealed there. Paige sighs, always having liked being kissed on the neck, and Azzi mutters, “Marks?”
There’s a slight pause, Azzi’s lips hovering just shy of kissing the skin of Paige’s neck, and as soon as Paige hums out a noise of affirmation, she’s basically attacking her, tongue soothing over skin as she sucks hungrily. Her hips grind instinctively down on Paige’s knee as her hands slide lower, down her chest to squeeze her tits through her thin tank. Paige gasps, using her leverage on Azzi’s ass to pull her down harder on her leg. At this point, she’s sure she’s soaking through her fancy lingerie just listening to the little noises Paige is making, and suddenly, Azzi feels hungry. The kind of hungry that tends to be insatiable.
As soon as the thought comes to her, her hands fly to the button of Paige’s jeans, staring down to watch her hands work it open. Paige watches, too, then brings a hand up to Azzi’s cheek. Azzi halts her movements, looking up at her, searching her face for any sign to stop and finding a little hesitancy there. “Hey,” she says, “you good?”
Paige nods, then glances furtively down at Azzi’s hands. “I don’t think I’m ready for—your fingers.”
Soothing her hands across Paige’s hips, Azzi nods, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek. “I know, baby,” she says—Paige has always needed a good amount of buildup before any actual intrusion. “Wasn’t gonna use my fingers.”
Paige blinks, thoughts obviously a little sluggish as it takes a moment for the words to register, but once she does, she nods eagerly. “Shit. Okay.”
With one last peck on the lips, Azzi’s fingers get back to work, and as she slides the jeans down her legs she goes down with them, dropping slowly to her knees. She helps Paige step out of the pants and then tosses them to the side, looping her arms around her thighs and urging her to widen her stance. She presses a few comforting kisses to Paige’s pelvic bone and across her hips, breathing in the familiar scent of her as her kisses stray lower. As she licks up the inside of a thigh, her eyes open, glancing at the girl’s boxers and the wet patch growing on them. Feeling quite proud of herself, she smirks, biting at her thigh and relishing in the way Paige hisses.
“Stop messin’ with me,” Paige breathes, bringing a hand to Azzi’s head and trying to move her closer to her cunt.
“Uh-uh,” Azzi says, using a hand of her own to move Paige’s firmly away. When she looks up at her, Paige looks wrecked, which does amazing things to Azzi’s ego considering she hasn’t even touched her yet. Loving the expression on Paige’s face—lips slightly parted, eyes fluttering, the picture of submission—she decides to try and coax more out of her. “No touching,” she adds, something Paige likes to do whenever she’s being particularly needy. When Paige starts to protest, she moves her hand to her clothed clit and rubs harshly, cutting her off. “You heard me, baby.”
Paige’s eyebrows furrow, either from pleasure or annoyance or, more likely, both. “Azzi, please—“
“Shh,” Azzi soothes, removing her thumb and licking a stripe up her boxers—the faintest taste of her already addictive. “Be patient.”
She expects more resistance—the few times they’ve switched roles like this, it takes at least an orgasm for Paige to take her commands. But today must be different—is different—and Paige dutifully shuts up, using her hands to brace herself against the counter as she tilts her head down to watch.
Pleased, Azzi removes her boxers, salivating at the pretty pink peeking out from between her legs, and it’s all she can do when she uses her thumbs to spread her open, groaning when she gets a good look at the familiar, dripping folds. “So pretty,” she can’t help but mumble, leaning forward to press a kiss against her, licking her lips to taste the arousal left there. Paige’s hips buck, and Azzi gives her a sharp slap to the thigh. Paige nearly whines, which is kinda new—they’ll have to experiment with it later. “What’d I say, hm?” she asks, unable to keep herself from pressing her tongue between her cunt lips and licking upward, eyes nearly rolling into the back of her head at the taste. “Be patient.”
“Fuck,” Paige gasps above her.
It takes every ounce of self-restraint in Azzi’s body to not just dive in and devour her like a woman starved. It’s been far too long since she went down on Paige, even before their two weeks of celibacy, and she wants nothing more than to push her tongue inside and draw out as much slick as she can. But she also knows all too well that Paige likes to be ate slow. So, slow it is, as she licks up around her folds, tongue dragging delicately over her clit.
Her eyes fall shut, focusing on how wet Paige is against her tongue, dipping just slightly into her hole where the taste is the strongest and reveling at how good it is.
When Paige makes a high-pitched noise in the back of her throat, Azzi looks up at her, watching her reaction as she gently sucks her clit into her mouth. Paige is leaning back against the counter, cunt pressed into Azzi’s face desperately, and it’s obvious she’s trying to keep still. But when Azzi’s tongue flicks against her clit as she sucks, Paige can’t help but gasp, hips bucking just slightly.
With painted nails, Azzi squeezes her thigh just enough to get her attention. When Paige looks down at her, she pulls off her clit with a wet noise and says, “Hold your shirt up, babe.”
It’s amazing how quickly Paige obeys, rucking her tank up to reveal her bare chest, nipples pink and hard. Azzi doesn’t even try to stop herself from reaching up to play with one of them as she dives back into her pussy.
Her clit is already puffy, sensitive to her every touch based off the way Paige moans when she flicks her tongue against it. She licks little shapes, taking note of which ones draw the most sound out of the older girl. It’s mostly for her own benefit when she traces the letters of her own name on her pussy, but Paige whines high-pitched and needy like she knows.
Azzi pulls away just enough to see that her clit is an angrier pink now, twitching almost imperceptibly, and she gives it a break, moving lower to suck around her hole, drinking the copious juices she’s teased out. When she presses her tongue inside, she finds much less resistance than last time, and her fingers itch to be inside her.
This time, when she pulls away, Paige whines again—the sound a mix of frustration and desperation—and Azzi soothes a hand up the inside of her thigh. Paige’s eyes are hooded now as they lock with Azzi’s, and Azzi smiles up at her. “Hey,” she mutters.
“Uh-huh,” Paige breathes, nearly panting at this point.
“Think you’re ready?” Azzi asks. Paige gives her a quizzical look and she holds up her right hand in explanation. “Wanna finger you.”
As if on their own accord, Paige’s hips jerk forward. When she says, “Yes,” it’s nothing more than a breathy little sigh, but it’s enough.
Nodding, her eyes go back to Paige’s cunt, gaze immediately going to her hole, clenching around nothing. She brings two fingers up and dips inside, then drags them through her pretty folds, making sure they’re plenty wet. And then, without another warning, she plunges into her pussy, moaning as she’s immediately swallowed by wet heat.
Paige’s reaction is visceral, hips pressing down to meet her halfway, hands falling to her head, previous no-touching rules forgotten. Azzi decides to let it go, though, as she watches Paige’s features contort beautifully, pleasure etched into every sound she makes.
Azzi pulls out, presses deeper. Does it again, and then stays inside long enough to push up against her walls.
It’s then that Paige starts talking.
“Oh, fuck, Azzi,” she breathes, still generally pretty quiet, something Azzi plans to have changed once she’s done with her. “You feel so—good, Az, fingers feel so fucking good.”
“Yeah?” Azzi coos. She loves it when Paige gets to the babbling stage of fucking, and is quick to egg her on. “You like that, huh?”
“Mm-hmm, missed it—needed it—I don’t—“ she chokes on her sentence when Azzi plunges particularly deep. “Oh, baby, right there. So fucking good at that.”
“I know,” she murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to Paige’s clit. “You missed me, right? Missed this?”
“Of course I—“ she gasps, arches forward, “did.”
Suddenly, Azzi speeds up, filthy squelching sounds filling the room as her fingers move relentlessly inside Paige, palm coming to meet her clit again and again. Paige mewls, shifting a little, and Azzi uses her free hand to hoist her leg over her shoulder, allowing for a better angle.
“Oh!” Paige cries out, hands gripping Azzi’s head for leverage. “Oh, oh fuck. Baby, baby—mm, so deep—Azzi, more.”
“More?” Azzi asks, pulling her eyes away from where she’s wrecking Paige’s cunt to double-check. Paige usually can’t take more than two.
“Uh-huh,” Paige nods fervently.
Azzi doesn’t slow down, concern about hurting the other girl cutting through her own haze of pleasure. “You sure?”
“Yes,” Paige says, exasperation filling her voice.
“I just don’t want to hurt y—“
“Azzi, if you don’t give me another finger right now I swear to God—“
That’s all it takes for Azzi to pause her movements, pulling out enough to add another finger, and finding it surprisingly easy when she slides back in again. It’s not long before she builds up to her earlier rhythm, Paige’s hips moving against her hand, and then wet sounds are filling the room again, slick trailing down Azzi’s wrist.
Somewhere between Paige’s high-pitched moans and desperate little whines, she calls Azzi’s name. Azzi presses a kiss to her belly and says, “Yeah?”
“Can you—?” there’s hesitance in her tone that gives Azzi pause, movements slowing once again to look up at her.
“What’s up?” she prompts, gently as possibly through the arousal scraping rough against her vocal chords.
“Just, come here,” Paige finally says, hands moving from Azzi’s head to her shoulders, urging her up.
Azzi softens, mind becoming a little less cloudy at the request. Carefully, she eases Paige’s leg off her shoulder, then works up to her feet, keeping her fingers firmly inside Paige all the while. As soon as she’s up, Paige’s arms go around her shoulders, pulling her in, and Azzi smiles softly at the absolutely fucked-out, but undeniably lovesick, look on the other girl’s face.
Pressing a kiss to Paige’s cheek, she starts moving again, staying close so that Paige’s lips are right by her ear, hearing every sound she makes.
“I love you,” Paige mutters, forehead dropping onto Azzi’s shoulder.
Azzi presses a smile into Paige’s hairline, the gesture so innocent compared to the hand between her legs. “Love you, too, P.”
At that, Paige chokes on a moan, only just managing a feeble, “I’m close.”
Azzi nods, doubling her efforts. “Take your time, baby.”
“Mm-hmm,” Paige hums, but then she’s reiterating, “oh, fuck, Azzi, I’m really fuckin’ close.”
To be honest, Azzi is, too. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s come untouched, deriving pleasure from the simple act of giving it to Paige. But she holds back, forces herself to focus on the girl in her arms, running her free hand up and down Paige’s waist. “Yeah? About to come?”
Paige grasps her tighter, too fucked out to respond, but her following whines are answer enough.
“Give it to me, P,” she urges, knowing words are always the last thing Paige needs to tip her over the edge. “Wanna feel you coming all over my fingers, okay? Need you to show me how good I make you feel.”
Paige nods, and Azzi coos a, “Good, girl,” into her ear, and that’s all it takes for Paige’s hips to stutter, abs tightening as she spasms around Azzi’s fingers, crying out her name like it’s the only word she remembers. And at this point, it might be.
It takes awhile for her to come down, letting Azzi continue to thrust slowly for another minute or so before finally pushing her away. “Too much,” she breathes.
“Okay, baby,” Azzi says, pulling out slowly, bringing her hand up to Paige’s lips once she’s done. Paige doesn’t hesitate to take them into her mouth and suck, and it’s as she runs her tongue between her fingers that Azzi is reminded of just how magical her mouth is. Trying to sound casual, Azzi takes her hand back and says, “Hey, you all done?”
Paige is panting, hands going down to hold Azzi by the waist, looking as if she can barely hold herself up—but still, she shakes her head. “Nah, I can go for more.”
“Good,” Azzi says, stepping out of Paige’s grasp with a sly smile. Paige opens her mouth to protest but then Azzi swiftly pulls her shirt over her head, revealing her lavender lacy bra which leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Whatever Paige was about to say dies in her throat. “I may have planned for this when I was getting ready.”
Her pants are still on—Paige hasn’t even had the pleasure of seeing the garter yet—but already her jaw is practically on the floor. “Oh, shit.”
“Uh-huh.” Reaching out, she takes Paige’s hand in her own, leading her down the familiar path to Paige’s room. “You can thank Caroline, by the way. Was her idea.”
“For real?” Paige asks as they enter the bedroom. She plops down on the edge of the bed, watching as Azzi locks the door behind them. Her eyes rake not-so-subtly over her frame as she watches her. “I’ll send her a card and flowers for this shit.”
Azzi laughs breathily, leaning against the doorframe.
Paige raises her eyebrows and then reaches behind her head, pulling her own shirt off and discarding it on the floor. “Aight, I think I can feel my legs again. Lay down, mama.” She smiles deviously. “I’m bouta get you right.”
—————————————
Paige has never been a good liar—which is clear, considering twenty minutes later she has her head between Azzi’s thighs, making her legs shake as she eats her relentlessly.
She’s already put on the strap, and this is her way of getting Azzi ready���alternating between eating her slow and then absolutely devouring her, pulling away every time she gets close to the edge, overstimulating her without even making her come.
“Paige, please,” she basically cries out for the nth time since they started. “I need you.”
Paige only smirks from between her legs, quite cocky considering she just got fucked into oblivion less than an hour ago. “What was it you said to me earlier? About being patient?”
Azzi rolls her eyes (though it may be more from the way Paige sucks on her folds than how annoying she is). “Mm—shut up, you liked it.”
Paige sure as hell isn’t about to admit that. Of course, though, she had enjoyed it, had reveled in the pleasure she took from giving up control, letting herself be told what to do. But now it’s Azzi’s turn, and she needs to regain control of the situation-hence, the edging. “Do you want me to fuck you?” she asks, muffled in Azzi’s pussy. “Or not?”
Azzi can’t say no to that, obviously, but still sounds a little ashamed when she lets out a meek little, “Yes.”
Paige quirks an eyebrow up at her. “Yeah? You done bossing me around?”
Azzi doesn’t respond to that, lips forming into a cute little pout that’s also reminiscent of the face she makes when she gets bratty. Chuckling, Paige shakes her head, pressing a lingering kiss to her clit. “I’on think so, baby. You had your fun.” Slowly, she crawls her way back up the bed, Azzi scooching up with her. “Now you’re gonna tell me watchu want. And you’re gonna be polite about it.”
The demanding tone in Paige’s voice is usually enough to set Azzi right, but she must’ve gotten too big a head after her little stunt earlier because now she doesn’t say anything, just looks at Paige a little defiantly.
Admittedly, she looks adorable, and Paige wants to kiss that look off her face. But she can’t let Azzi think that this is how it’s gonna be now. “Alright, pretty girl. If that’s how you’re gonna be, I’ma get right back down there and make you come on my tongue. You won’t get no strap tonight.”
At that threat (which is baseless, considering Paige is absolutely going to strap Azzi down one way or another tonight) Azzi’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “Okay, okay, no, I’m sorry, I don’t—I need you inside, Paige. Please?”
Grinning, Paige leans down and kisses her forehead. “That’s what I thought.”
Taking the silicon in her hand, Paige balances on one elbow as she drags it slowly through Azzi’s folds, taking extra care to bump the head against her swollen clit. When Azzi gasps, her eyes flit to her face, checking that she’s okay. “You ready, baby girl?”
Azzi hesitates, looking down at the toy between them. “It’s bigger than the last one.”
It’s true—this is a new strap, one Azzi herself actually suggested, claiming she wanted to try something bigger. They still have their last one, just in case this doesn’t work out, and Paige is about to remind her of that when Azzi shakes her head to herself and says, “It’s okay, I’m good.”
“You sure?” Paige asks suspiciously. “Because if it’s too big…”
“Nope. I’m sure.”
“Babe, we don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna.”
Azzi’s eyes move down to follow the cock, watching as Paige moves it methodically through her soaking folds, and her eyes grow a little wider. “Yeah, okay, I’m definitely sure.”
Amused, Paige watches as the younger girl stares, incredibly hungrily, at the toy. “Okay, princess. You gotta tell me if it hurts, though, okay?”
“I will,” Azzi promises. With that, Paige guides the tip down to her entrance, pushing her hips forward and against the resistance she finds there, studying Azzi’s face carefully.
After a moment, the head slides in, and Azzi gasps, wincing a little. “You good?” Paige asks, taking her hand off the cock to stroke Azzi’s cheek.
“Good,” Azzi confirms, swallowing thickly as her eyes meet Paige’s. “Just—go slow.”
“‘Course,” Paige says, leaning forward to press their foreheads together as she pushes in further. “Sweet girl,” she murmurs, mostly to distract her, “y’look so pretty like this, mama.”
She’s about halfway in at this point and Azzi gasps again, breathing out a word that sounds enough like a stop for Paige to halt. “Too much?”
Azzi’s knees are bent, feet flat against the mattress as Paige lays between them, but now she readjusts, wrapping them around Paige’s back for better leverage. “Okay,” she says once she’s done, giving Paige a little nod. “I’m good, keep going.”
Not loving the bossy tone of her voice, Paige makes a face at her. “Manners, princess.”
Azzi frowns but still lets out a little, “Please,” anyway.
With that, Paige jerks her hips, burying the dildo inside to the hilt. Azzi cries out, surprised and left breathless from the sheer stretch of it. “Shit,” she breathes, “so much for going slow.”
“Mm,” Paige hums, ducking down to kiss into Azzi’s neck. “‘S what you get for being bratty.”
“Yeah, okay,” Azzi sighs—Paige can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or actually conceding—and her head falls to the side, allowing more access to her neck, which Paige already marked up earlier.
“I good to move?” Paige asks.
“I think so,” Azzi replies, breath still caught from the sudden fullness.
Paige rocks her hips back, eyes flitting from Azzi’s face to her pussy, unable to keep from watching as she slides back in, eyes widening as she watches her cunt swallow it whole, basically sucking her in.
When she does it again, a little more smoothly this time, Azzi fists the bedsheets so hard her knuckles turn white. “Mmph—so deep, P.”
“Yeah? Feel good?” she asks lowly, rutting her hips flush into her when Azzi nods, building a steady rhythm. Her eyes land on Azzi’s face, contorted with pleasure, then rove down over her body—her neck, her tits, her stomach—until she lands back on the strap. The sight has her leaning down on her elbows, heart racing as she breathes deep to steady herself.
Picking up the pace just a little, Paige lifts herself up, watching as Azzi’s eyebrows furrow, her fists tight in the sheets. The bed is starting to squeak now, which just turns her on even more if that’s possible, and she nuzzles her nose into the crook of Azzi’s neck, muttering, “Hold on to me, baby, it’s okay.”
Azzi’s arms come up to loop around her neck before she’s even done with the sentence, and Paige smirks, pressing a few kisses into her cheek. “How’s it feel, hm? How deep am I?”
“So fucking deep,” Azzi breathes, and it shouldn’t come as a surprise how close she sounds considering Paige has been working her towards the edge for awhile now.
Paige brings a hand down between their bodies, using it to rub a few tight circles against Azzi’s clit, stopping when she starts whining. And Azzi makes a sound of protest but it’s quickly cut off by a moan when Paige’s hand moves instead to press against her lower abdomen, pushing down hard enough to feel the strap moving inside her.
“Baby, baby, please,” Azzi slurs, crying out in time with Paige’s thrusts, “right there—keep doing that, fuck.”
Who would Paige be to tell her no? There’s that whiny edge to her tone, all desperate and needy, a telltale sign she’s getting close. Pressing down a little harder on her stomach, Paige speeds up significantly, angling her hips up in an attempt to hit that spot deep inside.
Based off the high-pitched moan Azzi let’s put, it works.
“Shit, look at that,” Paige says when she looks between them again. The strap is soaking now, and so are the bedsheets, a mix of Paige and Azzi’s arousal leaking down onto them. Angling her hand down, Paige uses her fingers to spread her lips open, groaning as she gets a better view of Azzi’s cunt swallowing the entire dick. “Taking it so good, mama. Fuck, that pussy crying for my dick, huh?”
“Paige, fuck, yes,” Azzi gasps, clawing almost desperately at Paige’s shoulders.
“Close?” Paige asks, trying to gauge where she’s at based off the way her legs are beginning to shake, noises becoming less breathy, more insistent.
Azzi nods, maybe all she can manage at this point, and Paige rocks forward deep, pleased with the way Azzi’s mouth falls open, tits bouncing with each thrust.
They’re silent for a few moments, nothing but the sound of the bedframe fighting for its life and Azzi’s pussy squelching around her cock filling the room. “Hear that?” she asks, using her fingers to rub harshly against her clit, only adding to the filthy sounds in the room. “Best pussy in the world, baby. And it’s mine, huh?”
Azzi only manages a pathetic “uh-huh”, and that’s just not good enough for Paige. “Nah, you gotta tell me, princess. Tell me whose pussy this is and I’ll let you come, okay?”
It takes Azzi a moment, probably trying to gather her scattered thoughts, before she whines out a needy little, “Yours, fuck, my pussy’s all fucking yours.”
Nodding, Paige presses a kiss to Azzi’s parted lips. “That’s right, mama. You wanna come?”
Tears are gathering at the corners of Azzi’s eyes when she nods, and it only spurs Paige on further. “Go ahead, pretty girl. Come all fuckin’ over my dick. Lemme feel it, baby.”
And that’s all Azzi needs, her back arching off the bed, moaning all high-pitched as she comes, pussy clenching around the dildo, nails scratching down Paige’s back, leaving her shuddering. She doesn’t stop, though, rolling her hips deep into Azzi’s through every tremor, only stilling when Azzi shakes her head, tapping against Paige’s hip.
She gives her a moment to catch her breath before saying, “Can I pull out?”
“Uh-huh,” Azzi sighs, throwing an arm across her face as Paige slowly eases out of her. She manages to get the strap off and tosses it onto the floor, a problem for future them to deal with, before laying next to Azzi, pulling her into her chest. She chuckles at Azzi’s blissed-out expression, and Azzi’s eyes open at the sound, peering at her a little sleepily.
“You laughing?” she asks, no real accusation in her tone.
“At you? Never,” Paige jokes. Azzi slaps her chest, collapsing back onto it, sighing as she wraps a leg around Paige’s waist. She’s not the touchiest person in general, and Paige finds it endearing how snuggly she gets after sex.
Her hands begin to run up and down Azzi’s bare back, and when she hears Azzi sigh, she’s quick to speak, trying to catch the younger girl before she inevitably falls asleep. “Hey,” she says, “you okay?”
“Mm,” Azzi hums.
“Was it good?” Paige asks, even though she already knows the answer.
“Very,” Azzi replies, cuddling closer into Paige’s neck. “Missed you.”
“Two weeks is too long,” Paige agrees. Azzi chuckles softly, and Paige angles her head to look at her, only to find that her eyes are closed and her lips are slightly parted.
“Why are you tryna sleep,” Paige very nearly whines.
Azzi lifts her head lazily, resting her chin on Paige’s chest to raise an eyebrow at her. “Because you just fucked the shit outta me. I’m tired.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Paige sighs dreamily.
Rolling her eyes, Azzi lays her head back down, settling back into her. “Lemme sleep, okay? I need some energy for the morning sex tomorrow.”
“F’real?” Paige can’t keep the excitement out of her tone at this.
Azzi shrugs coyly, yawns. “If you’re good.”
Internally, Paige vows to be the absolute best. Even if it means no yapping.
Her silence only lasts a few moments but, surprisingly, it’s Azzi who speaks. “And, babe?”
“Yeah?”
“You’d better ask me to be your girlfriend tomorrow.”
(Paige does, in fact, ask Azzi to be her girlfriend ‘again’, as she puts it. Azzi, of course, says yes.)
(Oh, also, Caroline does receive a thank you letter and a bouquet of flowers in the mail a few days later. Confused, she opens the letter, to find it reads, “Thx for helping azzi pick that fit for our date. you’re a g mama carol. p.s. the sex was ridiculously good.” Caroline sends a photo of it to Azzi, wondering why she needed to know about the sex. Azzi replies with a shrugging emoji and a, “She’s not lying though”.)
#pazzi#azzi fudd#paige bueckers#pazzi fics#uconn wbb#wcbb#wbb#paige bueckers smut#azzi fudd smut#pazzi smut#lilah’s works#that’s so true pt 2
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Merely learning that there really are alternate realities is incredible; having the chance to explore one is even more so. Being invited by another version of myself to go to a multiversal conference of alternate versions of me? Now that’s just too weird and fascinating to pass up. Even the simple fact that they somehow tracked me down and sent me an email from another universe has staggering implications.
The invitation came with a countdown timer, and instructions for building a teleportation beacon. It wasn’t easy to build it in time; I hadn’t so much as soldered a circuit together in over a decade. This project was far more advanced than anything I had ever attempted even before I got out of practice with electronics. Still, I found the instructions were incredibly intuitive, lending credibility to the claim that I was being invited by myself.
The morning of the conference, I wake up a bit sleep deprived, but ready to go: I finished the beacon the night before. I strap on my backpack and wait for the countdown to finish.
As the countdown reaches zero, I activate the beacon. Seconds tick by as I start to wonder, did I actually build it right? Is this all just a prank? Did I misunderstand what I was reading?
And about that time is when reality turned inside out.
Next thing I know, I’m lying on the floor and hear a voice, both like my own and not. “Hang on, is that a mammal?”
Sitting up, I look around what appears to be a room in an office building, and a dozen compound eyes meet my gaze. “Something with an endoskeleton at any rate” another voice says, coming from one of the many beetle-like people staring back at me. One of them approaches, and reaches out a hand of sorts. “Are you okay?”
“I think so, just a bit dizzy.” Taking the hand of the beetle-person in front of me, who is dressed in something that looks for all the world like a polo and slacks, I get to my feet. The hand is softer than you would expect for someone with an exoskeleton. “So you’re sure I’m one of you guys? Because seriously, this is-”
“Really weird, I know. But you’re from Earth, the same as the rest of us, just one where evolution took a different path.” The beetle-person steps back, looking me up and down now that I’m standing at my full height. I’m about a head taller than anyone else in the room. “A really different path.”
“But how can we really be different versions of the same person? I mean, no offense, but…” I gesture vaguely towards myself.
“Frankly, the fact that any of us could be ‘alternate versions’ of the same person by random chance is unbelievable. The fact that our worlds have diverged so wildly, and yet converged again independently to form our ancestors and families, to say nothing of cultures and societies that are recognizable across timelines, is statistically so improbable that it shouldn’t have happened even once. Yet it apparently happens all the time. Actually, part of the point of this conference is to try to figure out why.”
Another beetle-person perks up: “You don’t happen to be a paleontologist, are you?”
“No, but I know the broad strokes. I imagine you have a few questio-” is about as far as I get before I break into a coughing fit.
Taking a moment to recover, I now know what it looks like when beetlefolk are worried. “Are you sure you’re okay?” says the one who helped me up.
The comment about paleontology gets me thinking. “The largest insect to ever live on my Earth died out millions of years ago. Some say it could only get that large because there was a lot more oxygen in the atmosphere back then.”
“How big was it?”
“Smaller than all of you.”
I try to focus on how I feel. My throat is tight and scratchy, and it’s getting harder to breathe. I hear the voices of my alternate beetle-selves around me, talking through the implications.
“My Earth has plenty of mammals, it should be fine, right?”
“Yeah, but they didn’t evolve in a low-oxygen environment. That one did. What happens when a mammal gets too much oxygen?”
“I don’t know, but it’s probably not good.”
After a moment’s pause, the one that helped me up quickly backs away from me. “Send it back! Send it back now!”
imagine if you teleported to a big multiversal hub of every version of you from every parallel universe and like 99.99% were just minor variations of some weird beetle alien and it turned out being a human made you one of the zany gimmick versions
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hotch being super touchy with bau!reader during a night out with the team and like cannot wait until they’re home or something ? (idk if this helps!!)
citrus
pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader w.c. 1.5k c.w.: fluff!! suggestive content, established relationship, mentions of alcohol, needy touchy hotch <3
a/n: thank you so much for the request! i realize now while typing this that you may have been asking for horny hotch but instead i give you needy hotch with a touch of horny. not my best work but i hope you like it <33
You first start to suspect something’s wrong when Hotch sits next to you on the jet.
Not that Hotch sitting next to you was an abnormal occurrence, however ever since you two came clean about your relationship with the rest of the team, both of you made the effort to maintain as professional as possible. Which meant not sharing hotel rooms even though you’re sure the budget manager wouldn’t complain, no favoritism, and no PDA.
The no PDA rule was particularly difficult for you because, how could you not touch him?
The team had just finished up a kidnapping case in Florida. Nearly two weeks of suffocating in the humidity and dealing with swarms of mosquitos every time you stepped outside of the precinct. The relief from being in a familiar setting and the working AC is tangible when you plop down into a window seat facing the front of the cabin.
When you notice Hotch approaching you and taking the seat next to yours, you barely hide the surprise on your face. Hotch just merely raises an eyebrow at you before he jumps into debriefing.
Afterwards, when everyone has either fallen asleep or victim to playing chess with Spencer, Hotch knocks his knee against yours.
You look up from your book, a question forming on the tip of your tongue, when you notice Hotch hunched over his files and eyebrows creased in concentration.
It must have been an accident, you think. Except he does it again.
“You okay?” you ask, placing your bookmark and setting your book aside. It’s not like you were paying attention anyway, having had read the page at least two times by now.
“Fine,” he mutters, not unkindly, before scribbling something at the bottom of a file and moving onto the next one.
The past two weeks had been difficult for everyone, and the week before wasn’t any easier. You assume that Hotch was just itching to go back to your shared apartment to check on Jack before passing out in your bed.
And then he bumps against your knee again.
You don’t say anything this time, instead picking up your book and hitting your knee back against his. You just barely catch the corners of his mouth quirking up.
-
You could’ve sworn Hotch was going to decline tagging along with you when you decided to go out to O’Keefe’s with the rest of the team as soon as you landed. You were even expecting a glare, silently telling you that everyone needs to go home to get some rest and that he is driving you two back to the apartment whether you like it or not.
You start to think Hotch is really up to something now when he shrugs and agrees to tag along with you, promising just one drink.
And then, Hotch rests his arm on the console while driving, his hand worryingly close to your thigh despite Reid and JJ sitting in the backseat. Then, he’s placing a large hand on the small of your back when you’re walking into the bar, causing a shiver to run up your spine despite the warm evening air. Then, he sidles up next to you in the booth, thighs pressing against each other and his wide shoulder brushing against yours. It’s a lot of touching, which you’re clearly fine with, but touching from Hotch, at work, several times in the span of 30 minutes?
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask, having to lean in to be heard over the music even with his good ear.
Hotch raises his eyebrows at you over his drink. “I told you, I’m fine.”
And it’s like you’re able to see the idea form in his head, having spent so much time with him on and off the clock that you’ve luckily gotten better at reading him.
You still nearly jump out of your seat when Aaron places his warm hand on your thigh, underneath the table where nobody else was able to see.
You’ve gotten used to how touchy Aaron can be behind closed doors. At home, he’s constantly touching you—an arm around your waist, a finger tracing the curve of your jaw, or a kiss pressed at the crown of your head.
But this? A hand on your thigh at a bar in front of your coworkers?
You can feel the heat of his palm seep through your pants, annoyingly close to where you really want him the most. Is that what this is about?
“You two lovebirds alright over there?” Emily calls from the other side of the table, looking spectacularly sober despite you witnessing her downing shot after shot.
The sudden weight of 7 different pairs of eyes on you has you even more frazzled because Aaron’s hand only squeezes the flesh of your thigh while he glances at you casually, his free hand wrapped around an old-fashioned.
“Just talking about how I need another drink,” you say, hoping that your voice doesn’t sound as strained to them as it does to you. And technically it is true as you shake your glass to emphasize the ice cubes clinking around with no fruity drink accompanying it.
When you notice Garcia’s mouth open to volunteer to come with you, you scramble up out of the booth, glad that you chose the outside spot, and weave your way through the crowd to the bar. You try to ignore the way the right side of your body suddenly feels colder without Hotch’s body pressed up against yours.
You’re waiting for your drink when you feel a hand snake around your waist. The only thing keeping you from spinning around to maybe unethically flash your badge is the familiar weight of Hotch’s palm pressed against your hip and the citrusy smell of whiskey on his breath against your ear.
A giggle bubbles out of you, instinctively leaning back against his chest. You’re secretly glad that he left his suit jacket in the car, leaving you to ogle the way the crisp white dress shirt stretches over his shoulders. “Seriously, what is with you today?”
His lips ghost over your ear, the low tone of his voice making your knees weak. “I’m not allowed to touch my girlfriend?”
Girlfriend. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of hearing that.
You lean even harder into him, one of your hands coming down to grab at his toned forearm as you reach for your finished drink. “Of course you can. I just can’t remember the last time you’ve been this touchy in front of everyone, or ever really.”
“I don’t hear any complaints.”
“I might start if you don’t kiss me.” And it’s mostly to just poke fun at him because Hotch hasn’t even held hands with you in front of the team, much less kiss you in a crowded bar with them undoubtedly watching and whispering amongst themselves.
You’re expecting Hotch to huff a laugh against your ear, letting go and stepping away from you. Maybe even him holding your hand while he leads you through the dance floor and back to your booth to humor you.
You don’t expect Hotch’s free hand to come up and cradle your chin, tilting your face towards his almost uncomfortably to press his lips against yours. It’s soft, chaste even, but the fact that he’s kissing you in front of your colleagues and strangers, in a crowded bar with the loud music nearly thrumming through your veins, makes you feel hot all over.
His arm tightens around you, spinning you around until you’re facing him, and he swallows the gasp you unintentionally let out as he deepens the kiss, your mouth instinctively parting. You’ve been dating for months but kissing him still feels like that very first time in his office, the hard edge of his desk digging into your hip and the glow of the sunset highlighting the clear affection in his eyes.
When you pull back, you notice a pink tinge high on his cheeks and the way his tongue peeks out to lick his lips, as if chasing the taste of your fruity cocktail. “What was that for?”
“Just letting you know that I can’t wait to take you home,” he says, pulling you until the entire line of your body is pressed against his. Your hand unconsciously comes to rest on his chest and you’re not sure if you can feel the bass line for the song playing or the thudding of his heart.
His hands start trailing down to your ass and you seriously wonder how touchier he can get.
But, like you realized earlier, it’s been weeks since you’ve had alone time with Hotch. So, you untangle yourself from him despite his protests and slip your hand in his pocket to retrieve the car keys. You grin when it’s Hotch’s turn to jump.
“I’ll meet you at the car?”
“I already said bye to them for us, let’s go.”
And then he’s pulling you towards the exit with his thick fingers wrapped around your wrist. You barely have the chance to peer over the moving crowd to see the rest of your team waving at you, wearing shit-eating grins.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfiction#criminal minds fic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#mine#aaron hotchner fanfic
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the parent trap (remake) | CS 55
cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader
warn: 100% fiction & remake
chap 1, chap 2, chap 3, chap 4, chap 5, chap 6, chap 7, chap 8, chap 9, chap 10
PART 9 MEET CRUELLA & SEEK HELP
The door swung open just as Carlos stood by the pool, his face lit up. “Matheo, you're finally here!”
Mattia approaches, he was wearing a loose tee and shorts for the pool where his father and the young woman were gathered, Carlos put his arm around his little one and looked ahead where the young woman was drinking lemonade.
“Matheo, meet Meredith,” Carlos announced with a smile, gesturing toward the woman lounging near the pool with a lemonade in hand. Meanwhile, Mattia took off his sunglasses, to see the young woman clearly.
Meredith stood up, her smile easy and confident. “Ah, so this is the famous Matheo I’ve been hearing about. Your father talks about you nonstop. It’s great to finally meet you.”
Mattia tilted his head, squinting slightly as if sizing Meredith up. “Really? Well, here I am.” He gave a polite, almost disinterested smile. “I’ll be 10 soon. How old are you?”
Meredith chuckled, glancing at Carlos for backup, but Carlos simply raised his brows. “I’m twenty-two.”
“Only thirteen years older than me,” Mattia replied smoothly, turning his attention back to his father. “And you, Dad? How old are you again?”
Carlos laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Wow, so curious all of a sudden, Chilie!" He said, "How about I go get some snacks and drinks to celebrate?” He pointed toward the house.
Mattia looked at him curiously "Celebrate what exactly, Dad?"
Meredith looked at his partner, as if he were scolding him or something similar, although it was a dissimulation, but for Mattia it was not at all discreet.
Carlos paused mid-step. “Your homecoming, of course!” He winked at Meredith and made his way inside.
The moment Carlos disappeared, Meredith’s phone buzzed. He glanced at Mattia, holding up a finger. “Give me a second, okay?”
Mattia watched him intently as he answered the call.
“Yes... Yes, Mr. Wolff, I’m listening... Oh, the charity event?” Meredith’s voice dropped to a professional tone. “I’m afraid Mr. Sainz will be unavailable. He’ll be out of the country for those dates, unfortunately. Mm-hmm. Yes, I’ll let him know.”
Mattia’s brows furrowed. “Dad’s leaving the country?”
Meredith looked up, startled, then let out a small laugh. “Oh no, that’s just a little white lie. You know, to get him out of something.”
Mattia gave a slow nod, clearly unconvinced, but he let it slide.
“So,” Meredith changed the subject, his tone lighter, “how was camp? Amazing?”
Mattia ignored the question entirely. “You said you’ve heard a lot about me. What exactly did my dad say?”
Meredith smiled, walking close to Mattia. “Oh, only good things! He’s so proud of you— equestrianism championships, top marks in school. It’s clear you two are very – very close.”
Mattia took off his loose tee and showed a half smile. "Well, it's just that we're very close , 'just him and me' We have each other."
Before Meredith could expect it, the boy jumped into the pool, splashing some water on him in the process. He stood up immediately because of this.
Mattia came out of the water and with feigned guilt said, "I'm so sorry! Did I get you very wet?"
Meredith gave him a smile, forced to look like Mattia's.
"No, sweetie, it was just a little. Nothing to worry about,” she said as she dried herself with a towel she had near her chair. She took off her black hat and walked a little closer to the edge of the pool to talk to the boy.
"Hey, the other day, your Dad took me horseback riding. I used your horse. I hope you don't mind."
"Don't worry, Pinon is used to strangers. Of all the others, you look the most normal."
Meredith made a face, Mattia tried not to laugh so that his acting would be more real.
"Others? What exactly do you mean?" The young woman asked, somewhat curious about it, Mattia could see how her smile turned into more of a grimace.
He was satisfied about it, Mattia showed a sly smile. “Shall I offer you the complete information?”
Meredith blinked and asked him. “Explaine it to me!”
“As usual. I’ve seen the routine a thousand times. Horse rides at sunset, romantic dinners under the stars, and always, always a bottle of wine to top it off. It’s predictable, really.”
As if on cue, Carlos returned, his voice breaking through the tension like a knife slicing through butter. “I’m back. Do you want some wine, Mer?”
Meredith couldn’t help it, Mattia gestured dramatically toward her, his face saying, See? Told you so.
His dad noticed the silence immediately and looked between the two of them, suspicion creeping into his expression. “Did you two talks about something interesting while I was gone?”
Mattia gave his dad the most innocent smile, but before he could answer, Mattia dove straight into the pool, creating a splash big enough to avoid the conversation entirely.
Meredith, give him a smile, shrugged. “Should I assume that’s a yes?” Carlos asked, his gaze darting to his girlfriend.
“You guessed right,” Meredith replied smoothly.
Mattia stood on the other side of the pool, observing the adults as they exchanged looks that were anything but subtle. If they kept this up, the entire plan would fall apart. He needed to call his brother right away!
*****
The phone rang, and Martin picked it up, his voice lighthearted. "Y/LN residence. Mattia?"
"Yes, Martin. It's me," Matheo replied, his voice slightly amused. "Sounds just like you on the phone."
Martin chuckled. "I'm sorry, to whom did you wish to speak?"
"Mattia? of course," he said, switching gears. "One moment, please."
He put the phone down, only to pick it up again a second later.
"A Sammy Sainz for you," he said, with a hint of playfulness. "Sounds just like your twin." Matheo rolled his eyes, amused. "My twin? Very funny, Martin. Good one."
He took the phone. "Hello?" he said, her tone shifting. "Oh, Sammy, my friend”
Matheo’s voice crackled through the line. “Hi, how are you?” while the other side Mattia biting his lips. "Hey, how's it going over there?"
"Oh, everything's quite lovely here," Matheo replied. "We're expecting a bit of rain today."
“Sam, can you hold on for a moment?"
"Okay, but hurry, Math. I've got to talk to you!" Mattia’s voice was urgent, like he had something big to share.
Matheo glanced at the room, he started to looked around and grabbed the phone and hid inside a storage room under the stairs, where they kept the coats, when he closed it he couldn't contain his excitement.
"Okay, now I can talk," Matheo said, his voice is quiet small but excited. Before Mattia could told what happen, Matheo already talking too fast about what he is doing with their mom. "Oh my God… Mom’s incredible. I can’t believe I’ve spent my entire life without knowing her. She’s beautiful, fun, smart, everything I imagined, but better. And the gown she designed? Absolutely amazing.” on the other hand, Mattia of the phone rolled his eyes and waited for his brother to finish.
"But... she told me how she and Dad first met, and if you ask me, there's a whole possibility here."
Mattia, from the other side of the phone, took a deep breath and groaned. "Matheo, stop! We’ve got a major problem here. You need to bring Mom out here. Like, immediately."
"Immediately?" Matheo balked. "Are you nuts? I’ve only had one day with her. I can’t just-"
"This is an emergency, THEO!" Mattia’s interjected, cutting him off. "Dad’s in love."
Matheo blinked and laugh a bit. "Get out of here. Dad doesn’t fall in love. At least, not seriously.”
"Trust me," Mattia said, his tone firm. "He's serious about this one. He’s always holding her hand, kissing her neck, waiting on her hand and foot."
Matheo’s stomach churned at the thought. "He is? That's... horrible."
"Well, you’ll have to break them up or something!" Matheo urged.
"I’m trying, the young woman has Dad hypnotized as if he were a dog. The only way will be for us to reunite our parents as soon as possible." Mattia sighed, the weight of it all sinking in.
"Matheo, you’ve got to get back here. I need your help."
"I can’t," Matheo said firmly, his voice tinged with longing. "I want more time with Mom. You don’t get it. I’m still getting to know her, and I don’t want to just leave."
“Matheo you know what we have to do. If not now, then when?” Mattia’s voice grew louder, tinged with frustration. “I can’t stand seeing that woman with Dad anymore. It’s annoying just hearing her talk. Matheo, we have to get Mom and Dad together now. It’s the only way,..”
Suddenly, Mattia froze mid-sentence, distracted by a strange crackling noise on the phone line.
“Mattia, I can barely hear you,” Matheo said innocently, even as he crumpled up a candy wrapper next to the receiver. His mischievous smile gave away his true intentions.
“What? Matheo, what do you mean…?” Mattia’s voice was laced with confusion.
“Operator, the signal is gone!” Matheo declared dramatically, pushing the phone away with a theatrical flair. He ended the call with a satisfied grin, knowing full well he had just sabotaged their conversation.
On the other end of the line, Mattia stared at the telephone in disbelief. “Big help, little bro,” he muttered sarcastically before slamming the phone down in frustration.
Meanwhile, back at home, Matheo carefully crawled out of the closet where he had been hiding. As he stood up and dusted himself off, he realized he was not alone. His mother, Y/N, his grandfather, and Martin were all staring at him as if he had just announced he was from another planet.
Matheo tried not to be panic, he forced himself to play it cool. “Oh, it’s, uh, a custom we have at camp,” he explained, keeping his tone casual. “You know, going into the lockers and talking on the phone. It’s kind of a tradition.” He smiled nervously, hoping they would buy his excuse.
Y/N raised a skeptical eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and confusion. “What a strange tradition, baby.” she remarked, her tone light but still questioning.
“It’s a bit strange, but I think it’s a nice tradition,” Matheo said, clearly trying to ease the tension.
“So,” he said quickly, changing the subject, “have you all had breakfast yet?” His voice was bright and chipper, like he hadn’t just been caught crawling out of a closet mid-scheme.
#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz x reader#f1 fanfiction#f1 fluff#carlos sainz#carlos sainz jr#cs55#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader
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naive
hamzahthefantastic x reader (fic)
day 5/7
summary: part 5 of the naive series baby!! you and mandy get some one on one time bc she’s going thru it until she sends you and hamzah off on an adventure of ur own ;)
contains: SFW and NSFW content… it’s going down.
w/c: 3.4k-ish
a/n: ik yall hate me atp but listen. listen. uhhh.. yk what just read it!
~
Hotel breakfast is really good. It's even better when you can be an annoying vacationer and sit in the dining hall to eat while wearing your pajamas. The dirty looks from the well-dressed staff does nothing to deter you from going to town on a plate of scrambled eggs and toast with assorted spreads. The one thing that is ruining your appetite, however, is your gloomy friend prodding her food with her fork.
"Are you sure you're okay?" you ask for what feels like the hundredth time that morning.
"Mhm."
Mandy continues moving her eggs around her plate and never taking a bite. She's been in a near catatonic state since last night. By the time you'd taken a shower and gotten unready, she'd already passed out in your bed without so much as an explanation as to what happened. You exhale loudly and she looks up.
"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"
She drops her fork. "I think Martin is hiding something from me."
"Oh!" Your eyes widen and you try to look confused. "What makes you think that?"
"He's been acting so weird," she says, resting her elbows on the table and holding her head in her hands. "Even before we came on this trip... I don't know. Something's off."
"What d'you mean?"
"He's being so secretive," she says. "I don't have proof of anything, but he's, like, really bad at acting innocent."
"Is that why you guys have been fighting?"
"Well, I don't exactly want to fight with him!" She tosses her hands in the air. "I wish he'd come out and say whatever it is. It drives me crazy that he acts like nothing is going on."
In that moment, you consider blurting out the truth. Talking about Martin's proposal idea would be so much easier than sitting back and watching the couple get into trivial arguments from Mandy's growing paranoia. But alas, you've sworn to secrecy and you really don't think it would be your place to ruin the surprise, even at a time like this.
"Have you asked him about it?"
"Yeah. He just deflects. I thought I could get him to talk last night, but I ended up crying because I got so frustrated with his cryptic bullshit."
You're stuck on what to say. It breaks your heart to see Mandy like this, but there's not much you can do without giving away her soon-to-be fiancé's plan. It's not exactly a conversation you thought you'd be having to mediate.
"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think Martin is doing all of this to deliberately hurt you," you say, reaching across the table to hold her arm. "He loves you. A lot. He's just an idiot sometimes."
Mandy smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Thank you."
"I mean it, Mandy. What you guys have is really good. Don't let a bump in the road ruin the rest of the journey."
"When did you become such a beacon of wisdom?" she asks sarcastically, looking down at the table.
"I'm trying my best here. Be grateful." You begin to laugh and she joins in.
You bring your plate back in front of you and gesture for her to do the same. The two of you chow down and talk between bites, discussing what other places you could visit before your inevitable departure from Curaçao. Despite the challenges, it's been an experience for the books and you take a moment to reflect on the joy that it's brought you.
As you take a sip of your tea, your phone buzzes in your pocket. When you unlock it, you open up the message notification and bite your lip to hide your smile.
i see u
"Is that Hamzah?"
You look up at Mandy and your face flushes. "Huh?"
"You remind me of when I first started talking to Martin." Mandy points at you with her knife.
"Shut up," you groan. "Is it really that obvious?"
"Yeah." Mandy nods. "Plus I saw his name on your screen."
You glare at her and she giggles at your expense. Over her shoulder, you spot him. He's in the buffet line, also in his pajamas, and you stare for a little too long at his grey sweatpants. When he turns his head in your direction, you duck behind Mandy's figure.
"He's coming." You use your phone camera to quickly assess your face. "I look rough. Fuck."
"Girl, you look fine," Mandy says, rolling her eyes, "and you've literally slept next to each other. It's nothing he hasn't seen before."
"Wow, uplifting. Thanks."
When you dare to raise your head again, he's making his final few strides towards your table. You smile and wave, and he attempts to do the same. He shakes his hand that's holding a cup of coffee and it sloshes around, nearly spilling all over him. Mandy gives you a funny look before greeting him.
"Good morning," Hamzah says cheerily.
He places his plate and cup next to yours. You scoot over so he can sit down, but he moves to sit so close to you that the sides of your thighs are pressed up against each other.
"Good morning," you reply, slightly taken aback by his chipper mood. "Sleep well?"
"I slept great," he says. He takes a bite of his eggs with bacon and looks between you and Mandy. "So... was it a breakup?"
You slap him on the arm and scoff. "Come on."
"'M just asking!" he all but shouts, earning the three of you a couple more dirty looks. "Last night looked serious."
"No, we didn't break up," Mandy mutters. "But I'm considering it if it means not having to deal with you anymore."
"That's mean," Hamzah says, taking another bite of his food. "I'd stay friends with you if I broke up with Martin."
"Don't talk while you're chewing," Mandy warns.
"Thorry." He swallows his mouthful. "So what are we supposed to do if you guys are still fighting?"
"I don't know, Hamzah." Mandy sighs. Then she looks at you. "I don't really feel like going out today. Maybe you two could do something."
Your eyes narrow and she shrugs innocently. "Where would we go?"
"Google some nice places. Walk around the city. It can't be that hard."
"I'm down," Hamzah says. "I'm in charge of directions, though."
He smiles mischievously and you mock him, making him laugh. You turn to Mandy, noting the way she's picking at her food again.
"Will you be okay? You can stay in my room, but I don't know what time we'll be back."
"There's free WiFi and room service. I'll be fine. Go have fun."
Mandy was right. Finding something to do in such a tourism-centered area isn't hard. The difficult part is spending time with Hamzah with no social buffer to avert the tension between the two of you. You hope it's not too apparent that you're staring at him every chance you get, but you can't find it in you to care about getting caught anymore.
"Now we go left," he mumbles, placing his hand on your shoulder to direct you to the crosswalk.
You know he tends to be touchy with his friends, but with how awkward he usually is about it, this feels different. Even when you hung out as a group back in Toronto, you could always sense that Hamzah was a little more hesitant around you. You chocked it up to not knowing him that well, despite having mutuals. Being close with each others' friends did provide an entry point for your friendship to blossom, but this trip has done more for your connection than all the time you've known him previously. Maybe it's because you're in such constant, close proximity now that your initial attraction to him has finally taken shape, unavoidably so.
"Alright, it's down from here," Hamzah says, gesturing at the beach you're nearing.
"I didn't bring a swimsuit," you say, furrowing your brows.
"We're not swimming." He shakes his head. "Over there."
You look to where he's pointing and take notice of the mountainous landscape surrounding the beach. Their overarching coves reach the edges of the shore where the waves splash against the rocks.
"I'm not cliff diving. No way."
You stop in place and cross your arms. He turns and walks a few steps back to you.
"We're not doing that either, my gosh," he grumbles playfully and takes hold of your hand, "follow me."
Hamzah leads you through the sand to the bottom of the ridges. This beach isn't nearly as busy as the one near your hotel, so the silent walk with your palm in his feels all the more intimate. The sun is less harsh under the arch, but the sand is still warm beneath your feet. The soft earth easily gives way as you take a seat in the deeper parts of the rocky expanse.
"How'd you know this was here?" you wonder.
"I found it before the trip," he says, stretching his legs out in front of him until the waves are barely licking at his skin. "I didn't think I'd get the chance to visit, though."
"Guess it's a good thing for the fight then," you joke. Hamzah looks at you with his face scrunched up and you share a laugh. "Sorry. Too soon."
You stare out at the horizon, absentmindedly cupping the sand and letting it pour down between your fingers. The waves are crashing, but there's a quiet serenity inside of the cove that makes you feel at peace.
"Nah, I just think we talk about them enough, right?" He leans back to rest his weight on his palms and your eyes flicker to the sight of his shirt stretching across his pecs. "Wanna talk about us."
"Right," you agree. "I never really expected this."
"What?" he asks. You become aware of how close his body is to yours.
"'Us.'" You make quotes in the air with your fingers. "I didn't even think you saw me that way."
"Really?" he questions, tilting his head. "I thought the same thing."
"Hm. Funny."
You move to lay on your back. You'd decided against changing out of your pajamas—the two of you look infinitely more out of place in such beautiful scenery—but it makes for great cushioning against the ground. Hamzah stays unmoving, looking straight ahead.
"Do you see us being the same way? When we go back home?" He speaks outwardly, eyes on the view.
"I don't know. Do you?"
"You answer first," he says, smiling at you from over his shoulder.
You roll your eyes and try to push yourself further into the sand, as if it'll provide a protective barrier between him and the words you're going to say next.
"I hope so," you answer honestly. "I don't see why it’d change."
"What if it doesn't feel the same?" he asks like he's talking to the sky. "What if it's just because we're here, y'know? Isn't it usually a 'what happens in Vegas' thing?"
"Oh, so you've done this before?"
Hamzah groans and you snicker, flicking sand into his pocket. He doesn't notice so you continue until it's full, giggling to yourself.
"Of course not," he says, shaking his head. Some of the sand trickles out. "I guess what I'm saying is...I hope you don't feel that way."
You take a deep breath to calm the butterflies that erupt in your belly and sit up. You look at the impression your body has left in the sand before turning to completely face him, criss-crossing your legs.
"I won't," you promise. "I couldn't."
"Good." Hamzah's eyes finally meet yours. "I don't think I'd be able to handle it."
You grin and let your fingers trail up the side of his neck, not wanting to hold your affection back any longer. He closes his eyes as you trace his cheek, the charming acne scars and slight stubble on his jaw acting as a roadmap for your fingertips. Then, you cup his chin and lean in. His lips move softly against yours. He places his hands on your thighs and runs his fingers across your bare skin where your shorts have ridden up. It's almost like the whole world goes on mute, and all you can possibly focus on is the way his touch awakens every cell in your body.
Without breaking the kiss, Hamzah pushes you down into the indented sand until he can comfortably slot himself in the middle of your legs. He holds himself up with a hand by your head, the other resting on your waist. The gentle caresses turn heated, and pretty soon the two of you are full-on making out, pulling each other closer and closer until his body fully surrounds yours. You love how he hums when you wrap your arms tighter around his neck and run your nails across his shoulders.
You can't get enough of him, holding his hips in place with your knees as your tongues entwine. When his hand strays below your hoodie, you pull away momentarily to slip it over your head. He helps tug it off you when it gets stuck, the two of you giggling quietly before tossing it away and locking lips again. His fingers trace a path up your torso, clad in nothing but a thin tank top. His palms slowly find their way higher up, and you moan when he gives your chest a testing squeeze. Upon hearing this, he squeezes again before running his thumb across your nipple, making you shiver.
His hoodie comes off soon thereafter, except he's completely bare underneath. You run your hands down his chest and his stomach clenches under the ghost of your touch. When you reach the edge of his boxers, he breaks apart to leave kisses from your cheek down to your neck.
"I-I didn't really prepare for this," Hamzah whispers against you.
"You didn't shave?"
"No, idiot," he scoffs, making both of you giggle giddily. "I, um, didn't bring condoms..."
You breathe out as he continues kissing your skin. "That's fine. We don't have to do anything."
Your fingers are tucked in his waistband against his happy trail, but you make no effort to move them. If it wasn't evident already, his erection presses against you painfully, a reminder of how close yet so far you are from what you're craving. Still, he seems determined to make the most of the moment. He sucks on the spot below your ear, making your mouth drop open in a breathy moan.
In a hasty decision, you take your tank top off and lay back down. Hamzah's eyes follow along your newly exposed skin and he leans down to kiss a trail from your collarbone to the valley between your breasts. His hands leave a wake of heat everywhere he touches you, yet goosebumps rise on your arms when his lips reach your lower stomach.
"Can I?"
He looks up at you, his eyes half-lidded and his hands on your shorts. You nod and raise your hips so he can pull them off. When he sees your underwear, he raises an eyebrow.
"You wear boxers, too?" Hamzah jokes, tugging on your waistband and letting it snap against your skin. You flinch and he laughs.
"They're comfy!" you defend, blushing. "I wasn't exactly planning for this, either."
"I'm kidding. Why would I care?" He leans up on his forearms to peck your lips. "They're coming off, anyway."
He reaches under your final layer of clothing and you gasp when he touches you where you need him most. His lips part as he dips into your wetness, bringing it up to circle your clit deliciously. You grasp his bicep and your other hand holds the back of his head as he continues his delightful assault on your throat.
When you feel his fingers inch into you, your hips jut forward. He whispers praises in your ear as he fucks his fingers into you, first slowly then relentlessly. You can't contain your moans. Your fingers tug at his curls lightly when you feel the knot in your stomach forming. All too suddenly, he pulls his hand out of your underwear and you whine.
"As much as I like 'em, they gotta go," Hamzah says, leaving one final kiss on your jaw before dragging your boxers down your hips.
He flings them aside and you breathe heavily as he descends to your lower body, situating his head between your legs. He plants kisses on the inside of your thigh teasingly, dipping his head down only to start back at the top with the other thigh until he has you squirming under his grip. Just when you think you've reached your limit, he bites at the swell of your thigh and connects his mouth to your core. Your lungs spasm as you feel his tongue flick your clit, struggling to catch your breath at the surreal sensation.
He sucks on your bud and has you a complete mess of moans under him. Loosening his grip from your thigh, he makes eye contact with you as he brings his hand back to your center and his fingers penetrate you steadily. Your back arches and he groans when you clutch at his hair. He suctions his lips, watching every reaction and noise you emit without once coming up for air. It's a dizzying sight, and your head lolls to the side as your moans get louder. He works harder, curling his fingers, toying with you in all the right ways to make you fall apart.
"Just like that," you cry out, "Hamzah, please."
You're panting at this point, yearning for a release that's sure to send you reeling.
"C'mon, baby," he murmurs. "Cum for me."
The quickening of his pace has you clenching around his fingers, and as soon as he speaks those words, you screw your eyes shut and let your climax overtake you. Your jaw slackens and you throw your head back. Your legs shake uncontrollably as you call his name out in broken gasps while you ride out your high. The scent of saltwater and moss fills your nostrils, and all at once your vision clears when he lightly kisses your sensitivity. You sharply inhale and white-knuckle the sand below you. Your other hand wraps around the side of his neck to hoist him back up so you can be face-to-face.
Hamzah's arms cage you in and you pull him down to lock lips. He tastes sweet. Then, he rolls the two of you over so you're sitting in his lap while he lays flat.
"All good?" he asks, holding your cheek.
"Perfect."
You lean in to kiss him again, propping your hands on his chest. Teasingly, you grind your hips against his and he groans.
"Stop," Hamzah grunts. "I don't wanna cum in my pants."
The friction makes you shudder, but feeling how hard he is makes you not want to stop. You laugh and do it again, making him squeeze your hips. He halts your movements and grins, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"That's it."
Without warning, he sits up and you wrap your legs around him, latching onto him like a koala as he stands straight. The swift switch in positions makes you squeal. His palms cup your ass as he walks out from underneath the cove.
"What're you doing?!" you screech, clutching him as tight as you can.
"I asked nicely and you didn't listen!"
He cackles maniacally as he wades deeper into the water. When you're up to your hips in the waves, he turns backwards and sends the both of you plunging into the ocean. In an instant, you're soaked to your bones and springing up to the surface.
"You bitch!" you nearly scream as he re-emerges beside you. "I'm butt-ass naked!"
"No one's here, don't worry," he says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. "Look. Just us."
Hamzah lifts you in the water and swings you around to show you the entirety of the vacant beach. He's laughing above you while you smack his arms to let you go.
"Okay, I get it! Put me down."
You plummet into the depths once more.
~
a/n: sorry to disappoint w the lateness again this would’ve been updated sooner if california didn’t literally go up in flames around me and half my roof tiles got ripped off my house from the crazy ass wind (another one flew off as i typed this). also my dumbass friend deleted tiktok off his phone and we lost our 231 day streak bc he can’t get it back no matter what we tried. also elon did the hitler salute?????? what is going on. anyways lmk if u enjoyed or want me to rot for eternity <3 love yall sm
#hamzahthefantastic#slushy noobz#hamzah fic#hamzah x reader#slushy virus#hamzahsmut#hamzah fluff#hamzah imagines#hamzah x y/n#martin and hamzah#slushynoobs#hamzahthefanatasticxreader
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I’ve been a fan of Danny Phantom since like I was alive. I was born 2002, show came out 2004, so I never got to enjoy it until consciousness hit me and I started joining in on fandom activities in 2013ish.
I have ALWAYS either made art, talked about fan theories, or just interacted with the fandom. From my experience alone, it’s the oldest fandom I’ve been a part of, considering it’ll turn 21 this year in April, which speaking of, we’ll promptly have a takeover like we do every year for the shows (d)anniversary
This wouldn’t be possible without people still posting to the fandom space. We wouldn’t have memes in this fandom or a fandom PERIOD if we just. Stopped posting the year after it came out. The reason why newer fandoms die out is because when kids got trapped indoors in 2020, they latched onto whatever was popular and thought “okay, gotta keep with the times. I shouldn’t like this thing anymore because there’s no content for it”. I’m not saying it’s wrong, as it’s just a result of what happened during the pandemic. But we NEED to normalize that you can stay in a fandom long after it’s dead or inactive. You can stay in a fandom space even if it’s not popular anymore. You can stay with fans even if your friends have moved onto something new. It’s OKAY to still like something a year, five years, or even a whole two decades after it’s been released
I see a lot of kids nowadays saying how they wished they were online when Gravity Falls was big or Voltron was popular and how they would’ve loved to be part of the fandom space, despite all their flaws, but it wouldn’t have been possible without people still posting as they waited for the next season, or people posting about their fan theories, or even just posting about shipping. I wanna say to that younger audience:
Someday, YOU will be part of that original fandom. Mouthwashing, Dandy’s World, etc. someday, YOU will hear from 9 and 12 year olds online that they wish they were part of that fandom space but now they have this show and that show and “the fandom doesn’t feel like those older nostalgic shows :(“ it is your job, as part of the youth, to keep your fandom alive. Post videos. Make art. Make fanfic. Do it months or even years after the show lost all popularity. Do it even if the creator is a POS (look at how the fans of Danny Phantom and Harry Potter are doing without acknowledging their media’s creator). Do it even if the show got canceled or ended. Just create and keep fandom spaces alive. YOU are responsible. Make it even if it’s bad.
Ask yourself this: How can you keep food on the table if you don’t go to the store and get it?
"Imagine still posting fanart a whole year after the game came out" brother what are you talking about
#phucker rebloog#Danny phantom#also hi I’m back cause I’m trying to phase my way away from Tiktok lol
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Never meant...
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Implied Natasha Romanoff x Maria Hill
Warnings: kinda cheating, communication? Sad just very sad lots of angst no happy endings
Summary: Natasha's been distant and you just want to know if she's okay
"Whats been going on with you?" Y/n questions softly "You've been acting distant and weird lately, is everything okay my love?" you say as you walk up to Nat touching her arm lovingly
"Yeah baby i'm fine" she gives you a smile but it strained and her tone is dismissive
You internally sigh not wanting to cause any problems but the growing distance between you guys lately has been bothering you
"I know you're not fine Nat" you look into her eyes "I can feel that you aren't 'fine' and honestly lately i've been feeling like we aren't 'fine'." You stop rubbing her arm with your thumb but you stay close still "I don't want this to be a fight but i can tell somethings genuinely wrong and i need you to talk to me about it. I'm here for you, okay baby? Whatever's going on we'll get through this together." You speak in a gentle and understanding tone. You love her so fucking much and it kills you that she's not communicating with you.
Natasha looks at you and you stare back. You start to get a nervous pit in your stomach at the way she's staring at you. Usually theres a softness to the look in her eyes but right now it feels like she's looking right past you and it's unsettling.
"Maria kissed me a month ago," Natasha says. Theres a pause before she admits, "and i liked it. I wanted her."
You take a step back as if you were physically pushed "What?" Your mind starts racing and your hearts starts beating rapidly "What are you trying to say?"
Natasha shakes her head "I pushed her away after a second, i swear! I've felt so guilty about it since it happened...and It took me awhile to admit to myself that I'm attracted to her."
Natasha's eyes pour deeply into your soul. Her unwavering gaze is met by yours, eyes slowly blinking, praying, hoping that this is a cruel dream. Your skin itches, your body feels hot.
"I-i don't know what to say..." You whisper out taking a few steps back leaning on the kitchen counter hands resting behind you "I don't know how to feel right now. I'm confused, do you have feelings for her?"
"No! I don't! I love you." Natasha waves her hands in front of herself "I just think...feel sexually attracted to her? She's funny and she makes me laugh, she's like a breath of fresh air, you know?"
You just stare at her not believing she had the balls to say that to your face, "I need to go." you mumble and start looking around for your keys. Fuck you really wish you were more organized and now its biting you in the ass.
"Y/n, baby" Natasha keeps calling out as you rummage through all the places you might've put your keys. You look at the key hook and zero in on Natasha's car keys. Natasha follows your gaze and rushes to grab the keys before you get there, "Y/n wait! What are you doing? Where are you trying to go?"
You snap "I don't know Natasha!" You yell throwing your hands up and looking around. Your eyes start to burn wanting to cry "I just know that I don't want to be around you right now. I need time to process what you've said and then we can talk okay? So please just hand me the damn keys!" you cry out frustratingly. You hold your hand out for the keys, waiting.
"I want to talk now." Natasha furrows her brows "I came to you wanting to talk this through-"
"You didn't come to me!" You point to your chest "I had to push it out of you Nat! I always do!" You wave your hands around wildly, "Whenever you're upset or somethings bothering you, you become distant and unresponsive to my attempts to engage with you. Then when i ask if you're okay- and big surprise-you lie! I had to push this out of you Natasha!" You shake your head angrily, "So do not say that 'you want to talk this through'" you use air quotes when you say that, "because you NEVER DO! I do! I'm patient and understanding with you...and all you do is lie to me in return!" You sigh out tiredly "So, please respect my wishes and let me leave." You outstretch your arm for the keys
"No, I'm sorry okay" Nat tries to take a step toward you but you shake your head as you drop your hand "I-i've been feeling so guilty about this, thats why i've been distant. I didn't want to admit...I wasn't fully upset about the kiss. And I was so angry at myself for liking it and even if i didn't kiss her back I felt like I betrayed you. I just want to fix this." She's on the verge of tears clutching the keys tightly in her hand. She doesn't want to lose you.
You shake your head, again, and rub your eyes with your hands, "I don't understand how you expect me to fix something, I didn't even know was broken in the first place Natasha" You swallow as you take a deep breathe "You're basically saying you want to fuck someone else because your tired of our relationship, how am I supposed to feel about that? Huh? All this shit is thrown at me, I know we weren't 100% but I thought we were happy, that you were happy with us."
"I love you so fucking much. I love our life together and I would never" she enunciates 'never', "throw it away to sleep with someone else" she speaks vehemently before softening her tone "I'm telling you because I know I need to be honest with you about this. You think I want to feel this way about someone else? You mean the world to me Y/n and I don't want anything to jeopardize that."
You close your eyes. Despite everything she said and how much it hurt you, a part of you understands where she's coming from, and even with everything your heart still burns for her.
You open your eyes and you try to smile but it comes out strained "I know. I love you too...but I can't promise you that what you said isn't going to affect our relationship. I appreciate the transparency but I need time Nat...please give me the keys." You ask politely
Natasha's lip quivers as she slowly gives you the keys "Where will you go?" She questions
"I don't know right now, I'll let you know later." You go to walk past her but she softly grabs your arm when you've become parallel with her.
She gives your cheek a soft kiss, "I love you." she presses her forehead against your right cheek, breathing you in before you leave. You feel her tears fall and your heart pangs sadly in your chest at the women you love, so you briefly lean against her "I love you too" you gently pry your hand from her grasp and then you leave.
Natasha watches you go. She watched as the door is slowly shut. She hears as the roar of her cars engine takes whats left of her heart. She never meant for this to happen. She never meant to hurt you. And she never meant for you to leave.
an: not proofread & this has been in the drafts for awhile. a little something to read while you wait for "Did i cross the line" part 3 👀
#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff fic#reader insert#angst#marvel#black widow x fem!reader#black widow x y/n#trikruwrites
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A GREAT MOTHER TO BE
Oscar Piastri X Dentist!fem!reader
Summary: Y/n Piastri has a pediatric dentist office and this leads to many fun conversations with the children. Oscar overhears one of the genuine conversations and is sure that she will be a great mother in a few months.
Words: 1.7K+
Warnings: Cute, mention of Y/n's work, cute patients, Y/n's pregnancy, Husband and wife, and again, so cute
Author: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And you can request stories on my profile❤️🇧🇷
MASTERLIST
Y/n always said her job was an adventure. Each child who entered her office brought a unique personality and stories that made them laugh, reflect and, often, be enchanted.
As a pediatric dentist, she knew it wasn't just about caring for children's teeth, but also about creating a safe and welcoming environment for little ones to feel comfortable.
At the end of each day, it was almost a ritual for her to come home and tell stories to Oscar, who listened attentively while caressing his wife's belly, which was already rounded by four months of pregnancy.
He loved listening to her describe the children's antics, laughing at their imitations or exaggerated expressions as he recounted how the unlikely conversations between her and her patients took place.
At the moment, Y/n was working another day at the office. Y/n gently adjusted her stool and leaned towards her little patient, a four-year-old girl named Emily. With golden curls tied with a blue ribbon, Emily was the definition of curiosity.
"Okay, Emily, I'm going to use this little mirror here to take a look at your teeth, okay?" Y/n said with a reassuring smile, turning the small dental mirror in her hand.
Emily nodded quietly, but as soon as Y/n took the mirror out of her mouth, the inevitable question came.
"Why is he so small?"
Y/n chuckled softly, keeping her tone calm and playful. "Because I need it to fit in your little mouth. If it were bigger, you wouldn't be able to see everything properly, right?"
"Ah... so he's like a princess mirror?" Emily concluded, her eyes shining.
"Exactly!" Y/n replied, finding the comparison amusing. "And with it, I can see all the hidden parts of your teeth castle." Y/n smiled at the girl and turned her amused gaze to Emily's mother, who was watching the procedure. "She's so sweet!" Y/n said smiling.
Emily's mother laughs in agreement. "And very curious, you see."
Satisfied with the explanation, Emily opened her mouth again. Y/n picked up an instrument to check for a small cavity, but as soon as she took it out, another question popped up.
"What is that? A paintbrush?"
"It's an instrument that helps me clean places where the brush can't reach" Y/n explained. "It's like a magic broom to keep everything clean."
"My mom will want one of these!" Emily responded excitedly, eliciting a laugh from Yin and her mother who was sitting in an armchair at the back of the office.
Outside, Oscar had parked his car in the parking lot and entered his wife's office. He smiles at the receptionist and she briefly says that Y/n was answering. Already knowing that he was her boss's husband.
Oscar smiles in agreement. "Oh sure, I was a little early, just..." He looks at his watch and smiles. "We have an appointment to see our baby in an hour."
The receptionist smiles and nods. And then the pilot walks down the hallway until he reaches the waiting room, which was in front of Y/n's office.
The environment was so colorful and full of life from the children passing by that Oscar felt more and more anxious to have his baby in his arms.
With the door to her office half open, Oscar could hear his wife talking calmly to the child she was treating, while the little one laughed and asked more questions about the dental equipment she used.
He couldn't stop smiling when he heard how Y/n handled the little girl with so much patience and affection, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
As Y/n explained each step to Emily, Oscar found himself thinking about what it would be like when it was their baby there, asking the same curious questions and seeking answers with the same sweetness.
Y/n adjusted the instruments on the tray beside her while little Emily lay there, waiting patiently.
"We're almost done, princess" Y/n said with a warm smile, standing up to get more gauze from the nearby cabinet. As she stood up, she instinctively placed a hand under her belly, the gesture so natural that she didn't even notice.
Emily, however, widened her eyes at the movement and pointed, with an innocent and curious smile.
"Ah, you have a baby with you!"
Y/n chuckled, turning to the little girl as she picked up the gauze. "Yes, I have a baby here with me."
"Do you take him everywhere?" Emily asked naively, her eyes shining with curiosity.
Y/n and the girl's mother laughed at the comment.
"Yes, I will. But only for nine months," Y/n replied, sitting back down in the chair next to the little girl. "Actually, after I'm done here with you, I also have an appointment to see how he's doing."
Emily opened her mouth, eager for Y/n to continue the procedure, but she couldn't hold back the questions. As soon as Y/n finished, Emily leaned forward in her chair and asked excitedly.
"And what is his name? Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"
Y/n arranged the instruments and smiled. "My husband and I haven't decided on a name yet, but it's a little boy."
Emily smiled even wider. Y/n helped her down from the chair and the little girl ran to her mother. Before leaving, Y/n took out a 'certificate of courage' and a shiny star pin and handed them to Emily.
"There you go, you were a very brave patient today!" Y/n said, handing over the items.
Emily looked at the brooch and certificate as if they were treasures and, before leaving with her mother, she turned to Y/n with an unexpected request.
"Could... could you bring a picture of the baby for me to see at my next appointment?"
Y/n chuckled softly, bending down to her level. "Of course. Next time, I'll bring a picture of my boy for you to see. But only if you promise me you'll brush your teeth properly, okay?"
Emily smiled excitedly and nodded in agreement.
Meanwhile, Oscar, who was still watching everything from the half-open door, felt his heart tighten. He already knew that Y/n was special, but seeing her like this, so natural, so affectionate with the children, only reinforced how lucky he was to have her.
Y/n gave him a gentle smile as she opened the office door, before turning to Emily's mother.
"If you can avoid sweets for now and help her brush her teeth after meals, I believe she won't have any more pain. We look forward to seeing you next week."
Emily's mother thanked her, and the little girl gave Y/n a tight hug before running out of the office, she smiled excitedly and ran in front of her mother, stopping at the reception to show the brooch to the receptionist.
Oscar then approached his wife, smiling as she watched the girl walk away. He gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.
"How are you, love?"
Y/n sighed, a calm smile on her lips.
"I'm fine, I'm just going to pack up before we go to the appointment."
Oscar walked her back to the office, watching her as she organized the instruments. He knew their lives would change completely in the coming months, but at that moment, he knew for sure that Y/n would be an incredible mother.
"You have a gift, you know?"
"Why?" Y/n asked curiously as she sanitized the instruments.
"The way you deal with these children. The patience, the calm manner... You can see how safe they feel with you."
Y/n blushed slightly. "Ah, it's work, Osc. We adapt."
Oscar shook his head, approaching his wife. "No, it's you. And I have no doubt: in a few months, you're going to be an incredible mother."
His words took her by surprise, and Y/n felt her eyes well up. She smiled, moving closer to him and placing a hand on her belly.
"I hope you're right, because I'm counting on your help, Mr. Piastri."
He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Always. Now let's go see how daddy's little boy is doing." He placed a hand on her back as he guided her to the office door.
She laughs. "No, he's definitely a mommy's boy. Isn't he, son?" She runs her hands over her belly and the baby moves. "Look, he moved. That means he agrees with me."
Oscar chuckled, bending down slightly to get closer to Y/n's belly. He gently ran his hand over the spot where the baby had moved.
"Little guy, listen to Daddy. You're my partner, right? You're going to help me with Mommy when she starts saying she's the boss around here."
Y/n gave a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Do you really think he'll take your side?"
Oscar looked up at her, a mischievous smile on his face. "I'm sure. We're already a team!"
"Of course they are..." Y/n replied, amused, running her hand through her husband's hair. "Until he's born, then he'll understand that, deep down, he's a mommy's little boy."
"We'll see!" Oscar teased and laced his fingers through hers as they walked down the hallway. "But in the meantime, let's see how our little champion is doing."
"Little champion?" Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Are you putting pressure on him already, Piastri?"
Oscar made an innocent gesture with his hands. "Not at all. I'm just saying that if he's half as good as you, he's already a champion."
Y/n stopped for a moment in the hallway, looking at him with a look full of tenderness. She leaned in and gave him a brief but meaningful kiss on the lips.
"You know how to make me emotional, you know?"
He smiled, squeezing her hand affectionately. "It's easy, you're everything to me."
And with that, Oscar opened the office door and led her to the car, as they laughed together about who the baby would choose as his favorite in the future.
That moment, so simple, yet so full of love and companionship, reinforced what Y/n already knew: They were not just a couple, they were a team, ready to face any challenge while anxiously awaiting the arrival of the baby that was already so loved.
#fanfiction#y/n#romance#lovers#imagines#marriage#one shot#formula 1#formula one#fem reader#imagines oscar piastri#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader
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Robotnik: Wait, you like Sonic??? [bursts out laughing]: Oh… hey, when you’re about to tell him, let me know so I can be there. I want to see your faces, hahaha! Rouge: Don’t listen to this guy. What does he know? The only butterflies he’s ever felt were just gas. Robotnik: Bat, I’ve spent enough time trying to destroy that hedgehog to know your friend is going to embarrass himself. What are you even thinking, Shadow? If Sonic even said no to Amy, who’s independent, nice, and strong, do you think he’s going to say yes to you? When you're an anxious, bitter, useless thing whose only accomplishment in life was nearly destroying the world and everyone Sonic loves in it? Come on… Come back to Earth… Shadow [lowers his ears, looking at the ground] Robotnik [wipes a tear]: Damn, that was good… [dials a number. talks while walking away]: Orbot, look, we’re postponing world domination till tomorrow, because my day’s been made today. You're not gonna believe-- Rouge: Don’t listen to him. Shadow: No, he’s right. Besides, to Sonic, his brother is his whole world, and this kid hates me. Rouge: That’s not true-- Tails: Wait, you know that? Rouge: Is today about discrediting everything I’m trying to say or what? Tails [ignores her]: Is that why you agreed to take care of me until he came back, anyways? Shadow: And put up with all your antics, you're not a walk in the park, either. But don’t worry, because once Sonic's back we'll not be forced to spend time together again. Tails: No, wait-- [sighs]: I’m going to regret this, I know it. [dials his brother’s number]: Sonic? [motions to Rouge and Shadow to stay quiet] Sonic: Hi, Tails! Everything okay? Tails: Yeah! I--I wanted to ask you for some advice. Sonic: Sure, shoot. Tails: So… there’s this girl in my class that I like, but I think she only wants to be friends. I was thinking of telling her, but I’m scared she might not reciprocate and will stop even being my friend. Sonic: Well… Listen, you never know if that's what gonna happen. I’d still do it. Those things are better said so you’re both on the same page. Tails: And what if she doesn’t want to see me again? Sonic: Look, if she needs some time, that’s okay. But if she’s your friend, it’s because she likes you, even if it’s not in that way. Look what happened with Amy and me. Tails: Yeah, that’s true. So if you were in the recieving end…? Sonic: I'd feel flattered. And I'd like to know in case I don't like them back so I can help them and be there for them without it being too much. So, just be honest with her. Tails [gives Shadow a knowing look]: Yes, sounds a lot like you. Sonic: And who is it? Do I know her? Is that Zoey girl, isn't--? Tails: Okay, bye, be careful! [hangs up]: See, whether it’s a yes or a no, he’s not going to laugh at you or push you away. Shadow: …Thank you, Tails. Rouge: It's crazy that you had the same situation with that Zoey girl and just happened to remember it now. Sometimes life works in such funny ways. Tails: …And in moments like this, I understand why you and Knuckles match so much. Rouge: Aw, thank--Hey! Shadow: Told you.
#incorrect quotes#sth#sonic the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog#sonadow#knuxouge#tails the fox#miles tails prower#sonic and tails#tails and shadow#rouge and shadow#dr eggman#dr robotnik#ivo robotnik#eggman
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NOWHERE GIRL
PART THREE
kang sae-byeok x fem!reader
synopsis: sae-byeok gets a concerning call from her brother while you start to get paranoid of yesterdays events.
wc. 2.3k
warnings: one mention of murder, mentions of bullying
(nowhere girl masterlist)
There is a lot Sae-byeok should thank Ji-yeong for in her life. They both met purely by chance. Whilst Ji-yeong had to do community service by cleaning up the park, she couldn’t help but notice a little pickpocketing thief roaming around. It amused her. When she approached Sae-byeok, the North Korean was the most guarded she’s ever been. It took Ji-yeong a year to finally get a name from her and her revealing where she truly came from and why she is living a life of crime.
Although Ji-yeong didn’t have much either, she felt bad for the girl who felt like the world had already given up on her. So, she gave Sae-byeok the opportunity to work at her old bakery job. Soon after, Ji-yeong suggested they should move in together as it would financially be beneficial since they can cut the cost of necessities like groceries. Surprisingly, Sae-byeok agreed but only with one condition: she will bring her little brother Cheol with her. Ji-yeong didn’t know that she had a sibling, nor that Sae-byeok was saving as much as she could through her job at the bakery and pickpocketing to have Cheol under her wing again. But she agreed nevertheless.
Sae-byeok knew that it would be hard for Cheol to transition from a children’s home to being under her guardianship and go to a proper South Korean school. Cheol, although naturally introverted, had a hard time getting along with the other kids at the children’s home. With all the trauma and isolation he had to endure at such a young age, he felt like otherworldly to the other kids. And he lets his accent slip from time to time so it worries Sae-byeok sometimes.
She thought that that the hard part was over, but new challenges arise everyday and she feels like she can never rest.
Sae-byeok was jotting down a customers cake order when the phone began to ring. The owner, Miss Ahn popped up from the kitchen to pick it up. At first she answers the phone with her usual warm tone which soon wavers into a worrying one. Sae-byeok takes a quick glance at Miss Ahn but didn’t have time to notice her concerned expression as she was still taking an order.
“Sae-byeok,” Miss Ahn says, cupping the side of her face with her hand and passing the phone to Sae-byeok when she finished helping the customer. “it’s…for you, dear.”
She mumbles a thank you to her and brings the phone up to her ear. “Hello? Who’s this?”
“N—Noona.” she hears a sniffling Cheol on the other end of the call and her stomach churns.
“Cheol, what happened? Are you alright?” she asks, her voice trembling.
“Can you come pick me up…I’m not feeling well.” he says weakly.
Sae-byeok’s breath hitches. “I’m on my way just stay put I’ll be there as fast as I can, alright?”
“O—Okay.”
Sae-byeok hangs up the phone and peers down at Miss Ahn, they both exchange a look of distress.
“Go. Don’t worry—and I won’t cut your pay for today.” she rubs the sides of Sae-byeok’s shaking arms, smiling weakly.
Sae-byeok isn’t used to kindness. “Thank you.” she whispers, although she isn’t sure if she actually said it out loud. Miss Ahn urges her to leave quicker, so she grabs her keys and wallet and sprints out the bakery forgetting that she still has her apron wrapped around her upper body.
She pulls out her phone to check whether taking the bus or running would get her to Cheol quicker. When the map shows that she’ll arrive five minutes earlier by bus she rushes to the nearest bus stop.
Although the bus arrived in a few short minutes, every second that Sae-byeok isn’t with Cheol feels like an eternity. When she got on and found a seat in the back corner, she stared out the window while bouncing her legs uncontrollably. She’s certain that people are throwing weird looks at her behavior but she doesn’t care.
When she makes it to the school, Sae-byeok has to wait another agonizing five minutes for the staff to retrieve Cheol and the anticipation was slowly killing her.
Cheol’s eyes were glued to the ground as he and a school staff walk side by side to the front lobby. When Sae-byeok spots him coming she kneels down and lightly grabs him by the sides of his face.
“Cheol, are you okay? Are you sick?” she presses the back of her hand on his forehead, he was warm but not enough to signal that he has a fever. But Cheol nods. “Are you able to walk or do you want me to carry you on my back?”
Cheol purses his lips in thought. “On…your back?” Before Sae-byeok spins around to carry him, he quickly speaks up. “Is it okay if we can get something to eat? I didn’t have lunch—but it’s okay if you can’t. I know we can’t ask for much.”
“Yeah, we’ll get some food want to stop by a food vendor?” Sae-byeok says without further thought. Cheol bashfully nods. “Hop on my back.”
Sae-byeok did her best not to show any signs of exhaustion as she carried her brother on her back so he wouldn’t second guess himself. Although the sun was beaming, it’ll all be worthwhile by the time they make it to the park with their lunch.
The two siblings found a bench shaded underneath a large tree. Sae-byeok handed Cheol the cup of tteokbokki from the street vendor.
“I already ate.” she lies, knowing that that’s the reason why he’s so hesitant to eat the food. He looks up at her, with round doe eyes then back down on the tteokbokki and to her relief he slowly starts eating. Sae-byeok’s eyes wander around the park while contemplating if she should ask Cheol the real reason why he wanted to skip school today. She already has her suspicions.
She waits for him to finish eating before she talks with him. “Cheol.”
“Hm?”
Sae-byeok exhales. “You aren’t sick, right?” Cheol bats his eyes up at her, cheeks burning red. “I’m not mad so you can tell me the truth. Why didn’t you want to stay in school?”
Cheol’s eyes start to gloss over and his bottom lip quiver. Sae-byeok rubs his back reassuringly.
“They’re all so mean here, Noona.” he whispers, wiping the tear streak with the hem of his sleeve. Sae-byeok’s heart drops to the pit of her stomach. This is what she was afraid of.
“Are they…bullying you?” she asks carefully.
Cheol shrugs. “They keep making fun of my accent.”
“Did you tell a teacher?”
“Yes but…they only do it during recess time.”
That’s why he said he was hungry. He wanted to skip recess time.
“But,” Cheol says hopeful. Sae-byeoks peers away from the ground to look at him. “I think I made a friend. He defended me the other day.”
Sae-byeok wants to be happy for Cheol, but things like kindness and empathy isn’t a luxury they tend to experience. But she tries her best to form a smile for him.
“That’s great, Cheol.”
He takes a final bite off the rice cake then speaks again. “He also likes to color so during lunch time we color with the oil pastels your new friend gave me.” he lets out a gasp of remembrance and starts rummaging through his bag. He hands his sister a drawing. The drawing was of him, Sae-byeok, and their parents all holding hands smiling.
Sae-byeok didn’t notice how hard she was clutching onto the sides of the paper, or how her eyes began to form tears.
“Noona? I’m sorry—“
“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” she quickly says. “It’s amazing. You’re really talented.”
The Kang siblings share an embrace. After years of feeling isolated by this new world, slowly but surely they are getting there.
They spent another hour or so at the park until they decided to get back home, Sae-byeok carrying Cheol on her back the entire way home since she used her last bit of disposable income for the bus and Cheol’s lunch. By the time they arrived, Ji-yeong already made it back and she spoke loudly on the phone with someone until saw the two arrive so she tones herself down.
“Go get changed.” Sae-byeok tells her brother. He nods and scurries to their room.
She leans her body on the kitchen counter, waiting for Ji-yeong to end her phone call.
“My uncle.” Ji-yeong says when she tosses her phone across the counter. “He gave my piece of shit dad this address so now I’m receiving his letters.” she points with her chin at the stack of letters on the living room coffee table.
“What is he saying?”
“I don’t know—I haven’t opened them. Probably some bullshit excuse about why he murdered my mom.”
Sae-byeok doesn’t say anything. It always astounds her how freely Ji-yeong speaks of her past traumas. But they’ve spoken about them so many times it no longer takes a toll on them to say the words aloud.
“Why did you pick up, Cheol early from school?” she asks.
“Some kids kept making fun of him.”
Jiyeong purses her lips. “It’ll get better for him over time.” her roommate just shakes her head in agreement. “Also, this might be a bad time, but we need to get groceries.”
“Yeah, I know.”
It was easy to tell how defeated Sae-byeok appears to be. Her bangs still clinging to the sweat on her forehead, she still has on her work apron on, and her breathing is still unsteady.
“Actually,” Ji-yeong chuckles nervously. “nevermind. You can stay here with Cheol I will just go.”
“Okay.” Sae-byeok says, too tired to retort back.
When Ji-yeong leaves the kitchen to go get dressed in her room, Sae-byeok pulls out a folded piece of paper from her apron pocket and starts to unfold it. She grabs the kitchen magnet and hangs Cheol’s drawing on the fridge then makes her way to the couch where she lies face down.
⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿
As long as you had your internship at the art gallery, your sanity will remain intact. Or so you hope.
However, today was a heavier workload at the art gallery with majority of your morning being unpacking and installing a new exhibition. And by the time you and your co-workers finished the morning task, it was lunch time and you both agreed to eat outside rather than in the break room.
“So, now can you tell me what happened?” your college friend and co-worker Mi-Cha asks once you guys found a secluded area in the outdoor dining hall of the gallery.
“Yoon came up to me in class and asked me if the ‘rumors’ were true.” you explain with fervor in your voice, stabbing your salad with a plastic fork. A gasp escapes Mi-Cha’s lips. “And I didn’t say anything but I guess she saw the look on my face which gave it away then after she went to tell her friends. So, yeah, I’m probably screwed.”
“No, you aren’t screwed. This is a very developed school—we go to an art school for goodness sake!” she says to soothe your anxious mind. “I’m sure no one will care, especially with finals season coming up.”
“You’re right.” you mumble. “But Yoon is so kind. Do you really think she’s—?”
“I don’t know. She seems cool but you can never really tell what people’s intentions are, it’s scary.”
“Well, I’d rather not try to figure it out. I just have to avoid her and her friend group for the rest of the semester.“ next thing you know, you let out a laugh. “This is so ridiculous! You would think that we are past bullying and mean girl cliques by now? The fact that I have to be afraid of running into Yoon of all people is so childish.”
“Some people just can’t let go of their high school years. It’s sad.” your friend sighs.
You two sit in silence for a bit to finish your food before it’s time to go to work again.
“Hey.” Mi-Cha says out of the blue. While still chewing on your salad, you raise both your eyebrows to signal to her that you have her attention. “How is that new place you’re staying at going?”
“Eh.” you shrug. “Ji-yeong, my old classmate, is nice. A little aloof but she’s really nice overall and keeps packing my lunches hence this salad. Her roommate though...”
“Ah. Bitchy?”
“Not bitchy more like—how should I put this—guarded? I’m pretty sure her and her brother are defectors so maybe that explains why she doesn’t trust me. Because she definitely thinks I’m going to steal their shit or something. But I’m only staying with them until Friday so.” you shrug.
“Where are you staying once you leave?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” you admit shamefully. “Maybe a shelter.”
“What?” Mi-Cha’s eyes widen. “No, come stay with me at my dormitory again—“
“I can’t it’s too risky. All the resident assistants recognize me now so if I get caught one more time I could lose my scholarship and then everything really go to shit. I just need to weight it out until this semester and summer break so I can live in the dorms in the fall.”
You two sit in silence to process the stressful situation you’re currently in. Your cheeks bloom red in embarrassment.
“Wow…I’m sorry you have to deal with this.” Mi-Cha mumbles.
Her pouty lips make you chuckle. “Hey, don’t cry before we have to go back to work. Again.” you say to lighten the mood.
“That was so embarrassing last time.” Mi-Cha facepalms. “That poor old lady endured my venting when all she wanted was to buy an art piece—I’ll never live that down.”
“At least she agreed that your ex was being a complete asshole.” you add.
“Yeah and she snuck a twenty dollar bill to my pocket. Gosh…sometimes old people are truly the best.”
You hum in agreement and wipe your hands with a napkin. Since there were only five minutes left till lunch is over the two of you start packing up your things and head over to the break room.
🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13
#kang sae byeok#kang sae byeok squid game#kang sae byeok x reader#kang sae byeok x fem!reader#squid game#squid game fanfic#wlw#wlw fanfic
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I NEED YOU
pairing : boyfriend!riki x female!reader
the muffled voices of your parents’ argument leaked through the thin walls of your room, growing louder with every passing second. they were fighting, again. you pressed your hands harder against your headphones, hoping the music would drown out their voices but it wasn’t working. you couldn’t make out what they were saying but it didn’t matter. the tone was enough to make your chest tighten and your eyes sting.
you were curled up on your bed, knees pulled to your chest with a blanket wrapped tightly around you. your cheeks were damp with tears and no matter how many times you wiped them away, they kept coming. hot, silent, endless.
your phone lay beside you, the screen glowing faintly in the dim light. you stared at it, the thought of reaching out to someone clawing at the edges of your mind. your fingers trembled as you picked it up, hesitating before opening the chat with him, riki, your boyfriend.
you: riki, can we meet? i can’t stay here anymore
the message hung there, delivered but not yet read. you bit your lip, anxiety curling in your stomach as you waited. each second felt like an eternity. finally, the little bubble indicating he was typing appeared.
riki: where are you?
you: home
riki: can you go out?
your heart raced as you read his reply. you couldn't let your parents find out. no, they wouldn't allow you to go out so late at night. so you had no choice but to sneak out. sneaking out wasn’t something you usually did but tonight, the thought of staying in your room, in this house filled with arguments and tension was unbearable. you took a deep breath and typed back.
you: i’ll meet you at the park
riki: on my way. be careful
you set your phone down and stared at the window. the night was dark, the faint glow of the streetlights casting shadows on your bedroom walls. you pulled the blanket off and stood. quietly, you moved to the window, pushing it open just enough to let the cool night air rush in.
climbing out wasn’t easy. the sill was narrow and your hands fumbled as you tried to grip it. but desperation gave you courage and soon you were on the other side, your feet landing softly on the grass below. the world outside was silent, a stark contrast to the chaos inside.
pulling your hoodie tighter around you, you started walking. when you reached the park, you spotted riki sitting on a bench. he looked up as you approached, his expression softening when he saw you.
“hey” he said, standing and walking toward you. his hands found yours, his touch warm despite the chill in the air. “are you okay?”
the question undid you. the tears you thought you had cried out came rushing back and before you knew it, you were sobbing into his chest. he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as you broke down.
“i… i couldn’t stay” you managed between sobs. “they were yelling again and i just… i couldn’t take it anymore”
“shh” he murmured, his hand gently stroking your hair. “it’s okay. you’re here now. i’ve got you”
for a while, neither of you said anything. he just held you, his presence grounding you in a way nothing else could. when your breathing finally steadied, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him.
“thank you for coming” you said.
he smiled, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “you don’t have to thank me. i’d come running anytime you need me. you know that”
you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “i know”
he led you to the bench and the two of you sat down.
“do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his voice gentle.
you hesitated. part of you didn’t want to relive the night but another part of you knew you needed to let it out. “they’ve been fighting a lot lately” you said finally. “it’s like they’re always angry at each other. i don’t even remember the last time the house felt… peaceful”
he listened quietly, his gaze fixed on you.
“i feel like i’m stuck” you continued, your voice trembling. “like there’s nothing i can do to make it better. and it hurts, riki. it hurts so much”
“you don’t have to fix it” he said. “it’s not your responsibility. all you need to do is take care of yourself. and i’ll be here to help you with that. okay?”
“okay” you said, giving him a small smile.
he smiled, his grip on your hand tightening briefly before he let go and wrapped an arm around your shoulders instead. “come on” he said, tilting his head toward the swings. “let’s do something to get your mind off things”
you raised an eyebrow. “like what?”
“like swinging” he said, standing and pulling you up with him. “trust me it’ll help”
you couldn’t help but laugh. “you’re serious?”
“dead serious” he said, grinning. “come on”
you followed him to the swings.
as the swings slowed to a gentle sway, you and riki stayed seated, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.
“do you feel a little better now?” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. thanks for this, riki. i really needed it”
he grinned, leaning back slightly on his swing. “anytime. you know i’m always here for you, right?”
“i know” you said softly, your fingers tracing the cold metal chain of the swing. “and i appreciate it more than you know”
#enhypen#riki#ni-ki#enhypen ni-ki#ni-ki enhypen#nishimura riki#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen oneshot#fluff#ni-ki x reader#comfort#ni-ki fluff#ni-ki oneshot
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Virulent (MBC x Reader)
AN: Hey Guyysss-
It's me :) Have I annoyed you all yet? /lh Anyway, I was on tiktok as I always am these days when people annoy me (Ginger mains- when I catch you ginger mains-) I noticed a lot of redesigns of the mains twisted forms to turn them lethal and yk what? Hell yeah. So I've been brain rotting and decided to share with you!
This is kind of far off from what I normally post but I still wanted to share with you, plus it's still MBC! And Distractor! Reader. Think of it as an AU! Of that universe.
Warnings: Depictions of horror themes, talk of mutated twisteds, threats of death (No one dies dw, I'm too soft for that), if you don't vibe with zombie apocalypse vibes, then this one may not be for you, and that's okay! Also kinda shorter than normal because I'm tried and had an assignment due that I forgot about :(.
☁ With all the mains back, runs had surprisingly gotten easier, if you did say so yourself. It was much easier to distract when you knew where the twisteds were and who they were the second you stepped out of the elevator. And having Shelly running around giving boosts made the time spent distracting cut shorter and shorter. Plus having Pebble right there as well was always a bonus.
☁ And of course, your sweet moonshine and berry boy. It was always a pleasure to be with them on runs and have them shadow you as you went; It was like a safety net in a way, moreso when Cosmo came along. It was very rare there was a run going on where one of you was going, and the others did not follow.
☁ That being said, there were times you missed the simpler runs with just you, Poppy and Boxten and maybe a few other commons. The mains all had their inside jokes and experiences together that, regardless of how hard Sprout and Astro tried not to, sometimes left you and Cosmo feeling like the odd ones looking in.
☁ Which is where you were currently, joking and laughing with the other commons as you all tried to go for a long run. It had started early this morning, and while you were unsure how long you were down there, you were sure it was well past lunch. The others knew you'd be gone a while though and planned their days accordingly.
☁ You hadn't even realized the true extent of how far you'd gone until Dandy was popping up, eyes frantic despite you all buying regularly. He eyeballed you as you approached, making you hesitate when reaching for the band on a pillow. "...Is there something wrong?"
☁ "Floor 50. I'm not even down here very long." He spoke and your blood chilled at the tone, Cosmo quickly threading his fingers with your own. Dandy noted this before refocusing back on you, eyes sharp and calculating. "Do you know what you're stepping into?"
☁ "I assume it's no different than any other floor." You sneer back, quickly exchanging your tapes for a bandage, watching carefully as Cosmo did the same.
☁ Dandy took them almost robotically, lips twitching just a bit. "...You've never been this far, have you?" You haven't, you didn't even think there were this many floors, but you weren't going to tell him that. Whether he saw it on your face or not, he grinned. "I'll leave the elevator open. As a one time grace for you all to return at any time." He yanked on the lever suddenly, giving a bright wave. "Good luck! You're gonna need it!"
☁ The warning, from Dandy nonetheless, does little to ease your nerves, but you still step out of the elevator with a kiss for Cosmo before taking off. It was a replica of the Christmas Toon's floor, so the twisted's should've been easy to find. Only...you didn't find anything.
☁ You immediately called out to be aware of objects on the ground, because as much as you loved Blu and Oakley, you didn't want a repeat.
☁ Still, the air felt...different then it did in that time. Like something sinister was watching, waiting, hunting. Taking off once more, you quickly rush to find Cosmo, finding him working on a machine. Seeing him find brings a sense of relief to you, but it's not enough to erase the feeling.
☁ "I don't like it." You frown, looking over your shoulder as you heard the rapid swish of air moving. There was nothing there.
☁ "I get what you mean. Leaving the elevator open?" Cosmo raises a brow ridge, pausing the extracting he was doing. "It's just not-" He turns to face you, only to pause, mouth gaping open as he grows impressively pale incredibly quick. He's staring behind you, watching as something moves. You go to look, but he's quick to stop you.
☁ "Something's wrong." He whispers, much quieter, struggling to draw his eyes away from whatever he was seeing. "I don't want you near...that."
☁ "Near what?" You try to turn around again and he grabs your chin this time. "Y/N, please." He pleads. "We just need to back away and-"
☁ There's a shrill shriek and this time he can't stop you as you whirl around to see Tisha with the same expression Cosmo had on his face. Behind you is a tall twisted, taller than any you've seen, other than Dandy. It's one red eye is glowing at you, locked on as it hands from the ceiling. Two of it's arms hang by it's head, lifeless and stained with ichor, though the large claws don't look any less deadly. A drop of ichor hangs out of its mouth before splatting on the ground, making your stare it, horrified. It moves like a bug, slowly as it's multiple limbs each click against the ceiling.
☁ None of you can move, you can only watch as it grows closer. There's a swish of fabric as it reorientates itself to stand upright, the two limbs that were previously lifeless lifting, as if to caress you. You don't let it, stepping back in time as Cosmo pulls you back into him.
☁ It's close enough you could see it's face though. Half of it's face is stretched unnaturally, tinged a soft blue, but darkens as it twists up in recognition of your act of denial. There's a large white star on the other half, which begins to whirr wildly, spinning and spinning and spinning.
☁ For a fleeting second, your traitorous brain turns to Astro and his twisted and the similarities between that and this...thing.
☁ The star on it's face suddenly shoots out and you tackle Cosmo to the ground as Tisha takes off to warn the others to get to elevator. There's a crash as the machine Cosmo was working on is shattered, ichor spilling out over both of you as glass rains all over the floor. Whatever is in front of you screeches and two arms reach for you.
☁ You're quick to grab Cosmo, hauling him up and taking him with you as you both take off towards the elevator. There's two sets of footsteps behind you, but with a quick glance, you see it's only the one twisted, but with four running limbs being used rather than the regular two. It's catching up fast, too fast, and for a second you swear it's going to grab you, but a hand around your waist makes you're entire system shudder before you and Cosmo are both being yanked into the elevator, which shuts much faster than usual.
☁ Everyone in the elevator is silent before Tisha is letting out a blood curdling scream, grabbing at the edges of her box. "What was THAT?!"
☁ "I don't know!" Goob cries out, big eyes already welling with tears as he pulls at his fur. Scraps is trying to help him best she can, but even she's pale and struggling to control her shaking.
☁ You couldn't outrun it. You couldn't outrun it. YOU COULD NOT OUTRUN IT. As a distractor, that's one of your only roles, and you couldn't do it. Scrambling, you shakily get to your knees, crawling to where Cosmo is slowly sitting up. His eyes are darting everywhere before landing on you, meeting you halfway and cradling you to his chest.
☁ You clutch onto his sweater with white knuckles, shaking so badly you fear tearing the fabric. The way he holds onto you is much the same however, so you don't think he minds too much.
☁ "Maybe...Maybe next time we..." You struggle to find words, throat closing as you fight more tears. Your tail gives a whip behind you before curling around Cosmo, lacing itself between the center of his curl for a better hold.
☁ "We don't." Glisten shudders, smoothing out his bow before rubbing the space between his brows. "We can't- I don't even think the mains would know how to handle that."
☁ "It kinda looked like Astro." Rodger mentions, fingers tracing a crack in his glass before retracting. "Do you think it's possible the Ichor is mutating?"
☁ "Mutating?" You shake your head. "That- That can't be. That's-" You pause before growing suddenly angry. "That's not fair!" You're suddenly seething at the aspect of it all. A new terrain to learn, new twisteds, new methods of containing them; a whole new set of injuries...Of scars. "I can't. I can't do it! I can't!" You cry out, turning to hide your tears in Cosmo's sweater as he numbly rubs your back.
☁ The elevator gives a cheerful ding, a direct contrast to everyone else's mood in the elevator. It opens to the vibrant and cheerful colors of the lobby and you hear the footsteps of the others rapidly approaching, but to you, you're just reminded of-
☁ "Cosmo! Y/N!" Your attention is quickly redirected to where Sprout and Astro are eagerly approaching, the former wrapping you both in a tight hug that the remaining partner is quick to join.
☁ It's a comforting presence and it makes your heart steady itself before fingers are picking at your fur. "Did something happen? You're both covered in ichor." Astro frets, immediately making that ill feeling return to your guts. You debate not telling them before immediately erasing the thought. They needed to know they had too. If anyone could at least begin to get a handle on how to survive...whatever that was.
☁ "There's something about floor 50."
#dandy's world x reader#dandys world x reader#astro novalite#astro x reader#dandy's world astro novalite x reader#astro dandys world#cosmo doesn't have a last name#cosmo x reader#dandy's world cosmo#dandy's world sprout seedly#sprout seedly x reader#sprout seedly#dandys world sprout#sprout x reader#dandy's world cosmo x reader#moonberrycake#moonberrycake x reader
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Astrid,
Hope you got my postcard from Phuket, and that the Bangkok one shows up, eventually. Maybe it is actually lost, like maybe I’m doing something wrong at the post office. It’s fine if they all go into the abyss. I am writing just to write, because it feels romantic or whatever. You probably hate the idea of this. I could just text you. I texted you forty-five minutes ago. Still miss you.
We’re in Phi Phi now. Islands, very beautiful. I bet you already know about them, but I’d never heard about this place before I came here. The landscape is kind of mental, like giants made it. Weird to look at. We went out on a little boat yesterday to see the sights. Jonas jumped off and swam, and I did not. My tattoo is still healing. Stupid fucking thing. I waved over a boat of girls and told them Jonas was saying he fancied them, and then he got annoyed with me, because he wasn’t saying that, and he was embarrassed. I think he should learn to talk to women without wanting to die, and he says I think about women too much, that I’m too invested and I should think about something else. History, philosophy, whatever. Why would I when there are women like you on the earth?
At night, instead of going out and drinking, we go to bed early, in our bunks, him on the top, me below like always, and he tells me all this shit about the Suez canal, or what the Falklands war was all about, since I was stupid enough to ask a follow up question once. Then I fall asleep to escape the boredom. We get up at six and do activities, then. Lots of walking. My body hurts.
Jonas finally tried those scorpions he was banging on about, and now he’s sick, btw. Food poisoning. I don’t really know how to take care of him, except coming back to the hostel every few hours, making sure he has water. Until he’s better, I guess I’m just wandering around on my own. Luckily, it’s nice to look at. Maybe today I’ll swim with my arm out of the water. Running out of space. Love and miss you can't wait to see you.
xxx Jude.
I snap open the lid of a bottle of water and carry it into the hostel room. It smells bad there, but I’ve stopped saying it, because it makes Jonas look like he’s about to cry. He’s curled up on his bunk, a complexion like curdled yoghurt, as a chink of morning light spills through the blinds and over his shivering body. Mostly naked. Too hot, then too cold, then sipping water, then throwing it up. I hover in the doorway.
“I’ve water,” I say, and he just stares. Resigned, half-dead, maybe. “Should you go to hospital or something, do you think?”
“No, I feel slightly better.”
“Oh, okay. Do you want the water, or?”
“Yes. Bring it to me.”
I approach him like a leper, not sure why, as I’m fully aware he’s not contagious, but it’s been ten days since I’ve thrown up, and I’d like to maintain my healthy aura. He regards me with bleary eyes as I back away. “It is good you are an artist and not a nurse.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m not so good with illness.”
“Even though you are always ill.” A tentative sip from the bottle. “You went out this morning?”
“To the post office.”
“Another postcard to Astrid.”
“Yes.”
I can tell he wants to laugh but lacks strength, managing only a feeble wheeze. “Is she missing you as much as you are missing her?”
“No, I don’t think so. She’s much better at distance.”
“She’s an independent person.”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me what she is doing today.”
“It’s Wednesday, so probably going to reformer pilates. Then she’s supposed to meet a friend from university for lunch. After that, I don’t know. Something spontaneous and thrilling, probably.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
He manages a watery smile. “You’ll be doing nothing again today? Missing her?”
“I was thinking I might wade into the sea, actually. Keep walking out until I disappear, wailing after Astrid like the pathetic little freak I am.”
“It’s Wednesday?”
“Yes, Wednesday.”
“I signed up for something today.”
“Well, I don’t think you’ll be going, by the cut of you.”
“No,” giving up on the water for now, he rolls onto his back, watching insects congregate around the plastic light fixture. “You could go in my place. It’s a… meditation thing.”
I pull a face. “Meditation? That thing where you sit cross-legged and go like ‘om’?” I demonstrate, but feel bad for making him laugh. Apparently a bit painful for him.
“Yes,” he says. “Kind of. You might find value in it.”
“Is that the kind of guy you think I am? With like, dirty feet and harem pants?”
“Since I am the one who signed up, is it the kind of person you think I am?”
“Not far off.”
“Well, meditation has many benefits. It’s not just for the dirty-feet-squad. It’s good for people who suffer with various mental health concerns, and people who have racing thoughts they cannot stop and such things. Maybe it will inspire you to stop thinking about women’s breasts.”
I scoff. “Why would I do a thing like that?”
“So you can think of more productive things that will inform you, and grow your mind rather than rotting it away.”
“Like the Falklands war, for instance.”
“Yes, like the Falklands war,” he says, suddenly animated. “Thank you for saying that. Or the targeting of Libyan migrant workers on suspicion of being mercenaries by—”
I take a brisk and decisive step out of the room. “Well! Glad you’re feeling better, Jonas. See you later. Keep drinking that water, et cetera.” I swing the door shut and amble away, down the hostel hallway and back to the beach, rearing for another day of nothing, bored senseless by the edge of a lonely ocean.
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This is a non-Veilguard post but it is a Solas post and a Varric post so buckle in.
Background: I joined a Veilguard Discord server because I'm insane, and we were discussing Cole and the whole choice to make him a Spirit or more Human, and it almost got into an argument but thankfully it figured quickly, but I was still thinking about it because something about it all rubbed me the wrong way. A lot of people lamented their choice in making Cole more Human or cheered that making Cole more Spirit was the correct choice because of Solas' own regrets and pains that came about from him gaining a mortal body.
Subjectively I have always chosen to make him more human, but I guess me choosing as a player is different from within the context of Inquisition. In DA:I every choice you make has consequences, sometimes trying to backpedal out of a choice once you're far enough in will result in you not getting your way because that's what it all is, Choices and Consequences. As much as the result of Cole's change is on you the player, it's really a Consequence of your favoring Varric or Solas' method.
Solas' entire view of Cole's predicament is colored by his own negative experience of having a body and living in the physical world, waking up to a physical world where the Veil was created just amplifies that regret in pain, every instance of him trying to help with his Wisdom becomes something worse to him personally (All that Wisdom and he can't help himself) but with Cole he actually can help! He can fix this, with not only Wisdom but experience! He's become a person, he doesn't like being a person(and then he does because of the Inquisitor, I feel this is true romance or friendship), so Solas knows that Cole can 'return'(made) more Spirit and the confliction will end.
Varrics positions, his view, I feel is colored by the people he couldn't help, the ones he couldn't help get their revenge or solve their problem in time in a way where no one could get hurt (Cole literally reminds him of Anders just in reverse) And this time, Varric knows better, he knows how to fix this, he knows how to not blow up the Chantry, he can fix it this time. (This time the love will be enough!!)
Objectively, both are answers, I don't think either of them are right, because it's one influence over the other, but a choice has to be made otherwise he'd become a demon.
Solas and Varric are having their idealogical battle(custody battle) over which direction Cole needs to go in to avoid binding or demonhood(which college to send him to). The added layer VG adds to this and every banter Solas and Varric have is also fascinating, because outwardly it's an Elf and a funny Dwarf fighting over the tall awkward Human child, but after VG??? After those regrets??? Girl...
But I feel that reducing that scene to Solavellan at times is... disingenuous, when really, it's a Solvarric scene of we're being objective.
This is THE custody battle of all time. (My weed kicked in bear with me)
Solas' version of his world doesn't exist anymore, the world with no Veil and spirits essentially pillaging the bodies of the Titans to gain bodies doesn't exist anymore, the first victims of what the Elvhen did calls him Chuckles, a demonym in true friendly jest to him, it's the first thing Varric calls him when he reaches out to talk to him at the beginning of Veilguard, up until that point he calls him Solas, the Dread Wolf, Fen'Harel.
Varric is a result of years of time happening to the version of the World Solas brought about. Its...it's like God is talking to a creation of his that has every right to hate him, to want to desire to go back before all the bad shit, and instead Varric says, okay, get the anger out, how do you feel now? Empty? That's okay too, take your time.
Solas is a weary traveler ready to end it all and Varric is the equally weary traveler who says, tell me about it, and then talks your ear off so much you start believing in the world again.
Basically, Varric's method is to embrace the history and the scars, embrace the hurt and once it's done, get something to eat. Varric forgives but doesn't forget, his plan has Cole let go of his anger in the end, but Cole will remember the hurt he felt, and inflicted and so will the people he inflicted them on.
#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age#dragon age veilguard#solas#solas post#varric#varric post#varric tethras#varric dragon age#cole#cole dragon age#cole post#kinda?#i just realized Varric is like Senshi but after processing the trauma#and Solas is basically Marcille/Thistle#i had more#I'll kust put it here#like Varric definitely becomes his best friend in the Inquisition#the names Solas had before were all said in disdain that he wore with Pride#but Chuckles?#Chuckles was a name his friend gave him#one not born of malice#and said by the one race that had every right to give him a horrible name#and instead of hate#because obviously Varric wouldnt remember#Varric was kind#i guess in the end#the love really wasn't enough
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