#she usually just says it straight to their faces

[azzifuddslover]

UNRAVEL — chapter two

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

tw: minimal swearing

themes: fluff, angst, little jealousy

word count: 6.1k

a/n: oh my goodness i’m in love with this chapter! i’m obsessed with this concept and them in general, so so cute my babies fr 🫶 please lemme know how u like it, feedback, etc. also if u wanna be on the tag list, tell me please! enjoy reading my lovelies 𝜗𝜚

the familiar ringtone echoes in azzi’s quiet room, pulling her from her consuming thoughts. she swipes to answer the facetime, and there was paige, her face glowing on the screen. her blonde hair was thrown in a messy ponytail, with a couple strands left loose, framing her face.

“hey!” azzi smiles in the phone, “i was wondering if you’d call.”

“sorry, practice ran longer than usual,” paige explains, her heart quickening at the sight of the brunette.

“typical. you need a break, p,” azzi says, voice laced with concern.

“nah, it’s all good. coach just wants to push me ‘til i reach my ‘full potential,’” she quotes with her fingers, rolling her eyes playfully.

“you’re already the best, though,” azzi notes, scrunching her eyebrows downward.

paige tries furiously to fight off her blush, quickly covering her cheeks with her palms. “you’re the best, az.”

azzi simply rolls her eyes at the comment— she attempts to ignore the swirling feeling erupting in her stomach, unsure what they mean.

“i miss hanging out so much,” azzi whispers, leaning herself back against her bed. “i miss you.”

“i miss you more,” paige replies, sharing a similar look of longing.

“how long has it been since we’ve seen each other? like, seven months?” azzi asks, prompting her elbows up.

paige nods as she pulls her lips into a straight line. she doesn’t let azzi know how much she thinks about her, how much she desperately wishes she was near every moment of every day. god, she would do anything to be close to her favorite person right about now.

the two girls continue their conversation, filled with collective laughter and buzzing energy radiating off them. amy, paige’s mother, peaks her head in her daughter’s room, observing paige throw her head back, chuckling at something azzi had said moments prior. she silently smiles to herself— she’s never seen paige like this before, being so consumed by a person, let alone her so called best friend. she automatically knew there was something more, something paige wouldn’t allow herself to admit.

when paige and azzi eventually end the facetime, after talking for about three hours back and forth, paige immediately knows what she needs to do. she pushes herself up off her bed, rushing out of her dark room, jogging until she reaches her mother’s room, where amy is sitting peacefully, with a book in her hands.

“mom,” paige says, “i need to ask you something.”

amy adverts her eyes to her daughter, who’s practically bubbling with anticipation. “what is it, paige?”

“before you say no, please just know it’ll make me the happiest girl in the world,” the blonde pleads, “i was wondering if maybe.. i could go visit azzi.”

amy turns her knowing smirk away from her daughter with her book, which she eventually closes and sets down in her lap. “and when would you do that?”

“i don’t know, preferably really soon.”

amy takes a moment to carefully consider paige’s words, yet she already knows her answer. for months, all paige would talk about is azzi. how talented she is at basketball, stories she shared on facetime, how much she misses hanging out with her— how much she misses her, in general.

the corner of amy’s lips tug into a small grin, already anticipating her daughter’s reaction. “i guess that’s fine.”

the young girl lets out a squeal before running up to her mother, pulling her into a tight embrace. “thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“we need to discuss the details first,” amy reminds her while she pats her back.

“of course! but i don’t wanna tell azzi— i was thinking kinda like a surprise visit,” paige replies, eyes sparkling with excitement.

as she pulls away, amy catches the light in her daughter’s eyes— an unmistakable blend of pure joy and determination. “that sounds fun. when do you want to go?”

“maybe next weekend, if that’s okay with you? and azzi’s parents, duh,” paige suggests, eagerly.

the lingering smirk on amy’s face widens, the warmth of paige’s enthusiasm wrapping around her. “alright, that’s fine by me. i’ll give katie a text.”

paige plops a kiss on her mother’s cheek to indicate how grateful she is. “thank you so much, mom. i’m so excited.”

“i know you are,” amy glances at the blonde.

as paige walks out of the room, amy watches her with a mix of affection and a touch of nostalgia, realizing how important this trip is for her daughter. how important azzi is to her. she knows it’s more than just a visit; it’s filled with friendship, growth, and a chance for something deeper to blossom.

several days pass, yet paige’s excitement to visit azzi only heightens. she can hardly believe she’s going to be with azzi in a matter of days, counting down the hours like a child waiting for a holiday.

every minute feels charged with anticipation. she’s been spending her evenings planning out the trip, jotting down all the things her and azzi could do together— basketball drills, movie nights, anything, really, as long as they’re by each other’s sides.

luckily, days prior, azzi’s parents were kind enough to agree, allowing paige into their home for a couple of days.

as the day of her departure approaches, paige packs up her bag, triple-checking to avoid leaving anything behind she might need. she grabs her bathroom necessitates— skincare products, toothbrush, floss, toothpaste— as well as a couple of causal, cozy outfits. she also stuffs in some smaller items, like her phone charger, deodorant, wallet, body spray.

once paige is all packed and ready to go, amy grabs her car keys, preparing to make the drive to the airport. no matter how many times amy suggested she comes with her, paige insisted she goes by herself— wanting to experience traveling alone for the first time.

paige slugs her duffel over her shoulder, slowly making her way out of the house and into the car. she pulls on her seatbelt, eager to feel the thrill of independence, but also eager to see her best friend for the first time in months.

the drive to the airport feels like it lasts forever, her anticipation growing beyond limits. however, she relishes every moment, imagining azzi’s face when she sees her.

“are you positive you don’t want me to go with you?” amy questions her daughter, throwing a swift glance her way.

paige nods lightly, “yeah, mom, i’m sure. i need to travel alone eventually.”

“i understand that, but you’re only 16, paige. it’s dangerous,” amy notes, concern laced in her tone.

“people my age fly by themselves all the time— it’s no big deal.”

amy lets out a soft sigh, “alright, if you say so. but please be careful, and stay with them the entire time— no funny business.”

paige rolls her eyes, “mom, i’m literally going there just for azzi. why would i leave?”

amy shrugs, “i don’t know, but you’re a teenager, who knows what y’all do.”

paige chuckles, a grin appearing on her face, “it’ll be good, trust me.”

the two grow silent, listening to the rhythmic beat of the music playing from the radio. paige’s gaze lingers on the window as her imagination runs free. she can’t wait to be close to azzi— to hug her, feel her warmth against her own frame. more importantly, she can’t wait to simply talk with her, in person. azzi seems to get paige, to understand her, better than anyone else in her life. she understands how she’s feeling— she even lets her rant on and on, listening to every word of her nonsense. paige and azzi’s friendship made them think so similarly, basically the same people at this point. the two practically live in each other’s skin with how well they know one another.

regardless of being long distance, paige and azzi’s friendship has remained well in tact. they facetime everyday, talking for hours on end, or until one of them falls asleep on call. each conversation they have feels like a lifeline, bridging the gap between their separate lives.

as the car finally rolls closer to the destination, paige feels a rush of energy and nerves. she can’t help but think what if things are different? she shakes her head, dismissing her doubts. deep down, she’s confident their bond will remain strong even after not seeing each other for months.

“are you ready to go?” amy asks, glancing over at her daughter once she parks the car.

“more than ready,” paige smiles, voice filled with determination.

the mother and daughter pair stroll into the airport, paige with her duffel bag loosely in her grip, and amy walking alongside her.

paige’s mother helps her get through security and everything she might require help for, and before she knows it, it’s time to board the plane.

“remember to call me as soon as you land,” amy squints her eyes, a hint of motherly concern in her tone.

paige playfully rolls her eyes back, “you know i will,” she assures her, “thanks, mom.”

with a final hug, paige steps out of her mother’s tight hold, gathers her belongings and begins walking over to the appropriate gate. the airport is bustling with activity, people going in and out at a rapid pace. yet, all paige can think about is azzi.

she boards the plane with no issues and eventually gets situated and comfortable in her seat. luckily, she has a window spot with nobody sitting directly next to her.

as the aircraft takes off, she gazes out the window, watching the ground fade away beneath her. she tries her best to contain her excitement, but the thought of being with azzi only fuels it further.

the few hours paige is on the plane, she takes the time to relax, watch a movie or two, and eventually heads to sleep peacefully. however, shortly after falling asleep, she stirs awake at a sudden shake of the plane.

she takes a deep, steady breath as the plane carefully lands at its designated runway. she feels a rush of relief crash over her once she realizes she’s made it safely to virginia. the sound of seatbelts unbuckling and the conversations of passengers fills the previous silence of the plane. she takes a moment to gather her things, heart racing as she is getting closer and closer to seeing her best friend.

paige takes the time to give a quick call to her mother, assuring her she’s alright and has made it to virginia safely.

with her heavy duffel thrown over the shoulder of the blonde, she scans the crowd, looking for the familiar faces of azzi’s parents, katie and tim. just as she spots tim, he waves enthusiastically, a wide smile plastered on his face. they previously agreed to come pick her up, which made paige feel much more welcomed.

“hey paige,” katie tilts her head, observing the young girl who continues to radiate eagerness.

“hello mrs. fudd,” paige lips turn up, nerves still swirling in her stomach.

katie gives her a soft, fast hug around her shoulders, “please call me katie, you know this.”

paige lets out a small laugh, “right, sorry.”

tim and paige exchange a quick hug as well, welcoming one another. “how’ve you been, kiddo?”

paige shrugs, “pretty good. basketball is really crazy right now.”

“ah, same for azzi. poor girl barely has any time for anything outside of basketball,” katie notes.

“i know, she’s told me like a thousand times,” paige chuckles at the memory of azzi ranting on and on about her practices.

tim and katie share a knowing look, subtle smiles on their lips. the three walk through security, then off to their parked car outside. tim takes the drivers seat, while katie positions herself in the passenger spot. jose, azzi’s brother, is seated on the right side in the back, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, clearly bored out of his mind. paige takes the seat next to him on the left, and gently setting her bag at her feet.

“hey jose,” she says.

“what’s up,” jose looks up, a smile on his face.

a comfortable silence hangs in the car as they travel down the road. finally, katie speaks up. “azzi’s going to be so happy about this.”

“i sure hope so,” paige says, “i know i am.”

azzi’s parents laugh, glancing at one another once more. “she’s been talking about wanting to see you so much, i’m glad it’s finally happening.”

paige’s eyebrows shoot up, “she talks about me?”

katie looks at the blonde in the rear view mirror, “practically everyday, paige.”

“it’s so annoying— always going on and on about paige this, and paige that. she’s like, obsessed with you, i swear,” jose adds, breaking his silence.

katie gives her son a look as paige’s eyes widen. she figures he’s kidding— there’s no way azzi is obsessed with her, even though paige definitely is.

“actually?” paige whispers, eyeing the young boy.

jose nods rapidly, a flick of annoyance on his face. paige feels her cheeks redden at the thought, although she is still unbelieving.

the car comes to stop, indicating they’ve arrived at the fudd home. paige’s heart pounds in her heart, her purse quickening at an abnormal rate. she swings open the car door, flinging her stuffed bag over her shoulders once more.

“i’m so excited for her reaction,” tim laughs, eyes crinkling.

“me too,” paige says through her wide grin.

katie unlocks and opens the front door, revealing an unusual silence. paige scans the room, looking for her favorite curly headed brunette. she gently sets down her duffel next to the empty couch, still questioning where azzi is.

“she’s probably in her room,” katie speaks up.

paige nods, slowly inching down the hallway before reaching a door labeled ‘azzi.’ she smiles, because it’s just so azzi.

she opens the door quietly, heart racing once again. inside, the room is dimly lit, fairy lights casting a warm glow. paige takes a moment to admire the chaos— books piled high, notes scattered across her desk.

looking to the left, her eyes finally lock on the familiar face of her best friend, who’s currently engrossed in a novel with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, not bothering to look up. paige smirks at the sight of azzi like this.

“you’re such a nerd,” paige says, eventually announcing her presence.

azzi looks up and is immediately taken aback. her lips part as shock washes over here, not quite understanding how paige is here, in her house, in her room.

not wasting a moment, azzi throws her book down, allowing her blanket to flow to the ground. she rushes paige, yanking her into her embrace— her arms wrap tightly around her back, squeezing the life out of her, trying to convince herself this isn’t some sort of sick dream.

“how are you here?” azzi murmurs against the blonde’s frame, who’s holding her equally as tight.

“my mom agreed to let me come here, after i practically begged,” paige laughs, casually adjusting her hand to be placed on the small of azzi’s back, “your parents picked me up from the airport.”

azzi nuzzles her face against the crook of paige’s neck, “i missed you so bad.”

paige’s smile only grows, stepping back until both she and azzi are sitting on her bed, still wrapped in each others warmth. azzi couldn’t get enough of paige, her best friend, being so close like they haven’t seen one another in months.

“i missed you, az.”

the two girls finally pull away, settling in a comfortable silence, the weight of being separated still hanging in the air.

“i can’t believe you’re really here,” azzi whispers, eyes roaming the blonde’s face.

“me either,” paige whispers back, holding eye contact.

a moment goes by with the pair just looking at each other— paige can’t seem to find a singular flaw in the entirety of azzi’s face. she’s one of the most stunning girls she’s ever laid eyes on. the way her brown curls hang around her face perfectly, to her cute dark brown eyes full of admiration. she could stare at azzi for hours.

paige clears her throat, breaking the moment before it becomes too heavy. “so, what do you wanna do?” she asks, a look of longing still apparent on her expression.

“um..” she takes a moment to think, trying to get her mind off the blonde in front of her, “we can watch a movie?”

“that sounds nice,” paige nods, agreeing with the idea.

the two girls make themselves comfortable on azzi’s messy bed— azzi lays closer to the wall, while paige lays out besides her, not quite touching the younger girl.

paige and azzi settle on one of their favorites, the parent trap. paige lets out a soft yawn, trying to keep her exhaustion at bay— she doesn’t want to go to bed yet, considering how little she’s talked with azzi so far.

throughout the course of the movie, the girls make small talk, discussing their favorite parts of the movie and basketball related things. paige brings up an nba game, to which azzi rolls her eyes, not caring if it isn’t about steph curry.

“azzi, paige, dinner is ready!” katie yells from down the hall.

the pair is slow to get up, eventually pulling themselves from their positions on azzi’s comfortable bed. they make their way down the hall, fingers nearly brushing, but paige pulls away before any touch can occur— it’s not that she doesn’t want to, she does— it’s the fear that prevents paige from pushing for anything further.

azzi’s family, including paige, find their designated spots at the dinner table. paige naturally sits next to azzi, scooting her chair slightly closer to her best friend.

as they eat, barely any conversations develop, as they are solely focused on the food in front of them. it isn’t until tim speaks up does the silence break.

“so paige, any boyfriends we should know about?” he questions before taking another bite of food.

paige coughs, choking on her food at his sudden question. paige glances at the brunette next to her, who is shy to meet her gaze.

“um, no— no boyfriend for me,” paige politely smiles, quickly turning her attention back to her plate.

azzi shifts in her spot, adjusting her legs quietly. paige lets out a jagged breath, noticing the growing, slightly awkward silence.

“azzi has a boyfriend,” jon, one of azzi’s brother, smirks.

paige feels her heart skip a beat at his comment— she’s never thought to ask azzi about her love life, it simply was never a conversation they ever had.

“he’s not my boyfriend,” azzi defends, throwing her younger brother a look. her lips pull into a line as she squirms in her seat.

paige’s gaze drag over azzi’s frame, her curiosity growing to an excessive amount. azzi briefly meets the blonde’s line of sight, a flash of vulnerability passing between them.

“really?” paige whispers, trying to keep her tone light despite the sudden tightness in her chest. “i didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

azzi fidgets, a mix of embarrassment and defensiveness swirling in her face. “it’s not serious or anything… we’re just hanging out,” she explains, her voice a bit quieter than usual.

as the meal wraps up, and the conversation flows between azzi and her family, paige can’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling in her chest. azzi has a boyfriend— well, a boy she’s hanging out with. she watches azzi laugh with her brothers, only intensifying the longing in her chest.

eventually, paige and azzi head back into azzi’s room; paige makes sure to widen their distance as the feeling from earlier still suffocates her. once inside, the familiar comfort settles around them again, but it feels different now, filled with unspoken words.

azzi flops on her bed, pulling a blanket, one of many, around her shoulders. “i’m so glad you’re here,” she says softly.

“me too,” paige murmurs, avoiding any sort of eye contact with the brunette.

a moment of silence stretches between them, the conversation from the dining table still making an impact. eventually, azzi breaks it, looking more serious than before. “is something wrong?”

paige looks at the ground, feeling embarrassed to be so upset over such a small thing. why is this having an effect on her? they’re best friends, not anything more.

“why didn’t you tell me about your boyfriend?” paige looks up, a hint of sadness in her tone.

“he’s not my boyfriend,” azzi repeats, but continues, “i don’t know, though. it’s nothing serious, so i figured it wasn’t really important.”

paige takes some time to digest azzi’s words. not long after does she reply, “i understand. i don’t think i’d tell you if i was seeing someone either.”

azzi’s lips scrunch, although she understands where the older girl is coming from. relationships, dating, any kind of love talk was unusual for them.

“what’s his name?” paige asks, trying to avoid anymore silence between them.

“jayden,” azzi smirks, eyes twinkling in the glow of light.

paige hums, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “jayden, huh? sounds… nice.”

azzi notices the slight tremor in paige’s voice, “yeah, he’s cool, i guess. we just hang out, like i said.”

“just hang out,” paige echoes, her mind racing with what that could entail. she bites her lip, trying to suppress the wave of emotion swelling within her. “what does that mean?”

azzi breaks eye contact, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “we talk, go to the mall, things like that,” she replies, her voice trailing off.

paige swallows hard, the weight of azzi’s words settling in, “but you like him?”

azzi hesitates, her fingers twist the fabric of the blanket that’s wrapped around her. “i mean.. maybe a little? i’m not in love with him, or anything.”

paige nods slowly, but the pit in her stomach doesn’t ease. “i see.”

more silence stretches between the two girls, unsure what to say next.

“are you… okay?” azzi asks, noticing paige’s change in mood.

paige flicks her head to look at azzi, “yeah, sorry— it just caught me off guard, y’know.”

azzi nods, understanding where she’s coming from. “i get that,” she whispers.

azzi turns back on the movie they were previously watching before getting interrupted for dinner, making herself more comfortable on her bed. paige lays out on a beanbag, not bothering to share the bed with the younger girl.

they watch the parent trap quietly, not wanting to force any conversation. eventually, night rolls around and the movie ends, the soft glow of the screen flickering out. azzi yawns and stretches, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“wanna call it a night?” she says, glancing at the clock.

paige nods, though she feels a pang of reluctance at the thought of leaving the comfort of their time together. “yeah, that sounds good.”

azzi smiles gently before gesturing to the empty space next to her on the bed. “you can come over here. there’s plenty of room, and much more comfortable than the beanbag.”

paige hesitates, wondering if the tension from their previous conversation still hangs. “you sure?”

“of course,” azzi assures her, her voice light and genuine.

with a sigh of relief, paige moves off the beanbag and shuffles over to the bed, where azzi lays fully under the covers. she settles in besides azzi, the warmth of her friend’s presence instantly soothing her. they lie side by side, yet the distance between the girls is evident.

paige adjusts her position, allowing herself to face azzi, although she’s turned towards the wall. she stares at the back of azzi’s head, thoughts still consuming her. her mind goes back and forth, wondering why it matters that azzi’s talking to a boy. she’s her friend, why does she care?

she tries to convince herself it’s something else, a reason that doesn’t involve any sort of feelings towards the girl in front of her. she takes a deep breath, focusing on the rise and fall of azzi’s shoulders instead. yet the truth lingers, unacknowledged and nagging.

paige stirs away, eyes pulling apart ever so slightly, just enough to glimpse at the brunette laying peacefully asleep next to her. it remains dark, telling paige it’s the middle of the night.

the older girl realizes the distance between them has shortened, making azzi only inches apart from herself. their legs are twisted together, while her hand is loosely on her forearm.

feeling bold, trying to ignore the speed of her pulse, paige gently intertwines her fingers with azzi’s. an innocent act of affection that feels natural— considering they’ve done it countless times before— yet it’s filled with more tension than before.

azzi shifts slightly, a light sigh escaping her lips, but she doesn’t fully wake. instead, she instinctively squeezes paige’s hand, a sleepy smile on her face.

paige swears she feels her heart skip a beat. “az,” she whispers, but azzi only moves closer, nuzzling deeper in her pillow.

with a gentle smirk, paige rubs her thumbs against azzi’s hand, feeling a comforting warmth spread between them. it feels perfect, their shared moment— paige tries desperately to ignore how much she enjoys touching azzi, regardless of how little holding her hand is.

as the world outside fades away, nothing but the sound of azzi’s soft breathing in the air, paige allows herself to relax, drifting off to sleep with a new sense of peace, knowing that they’re connected, even in the dark.

two days pass with paige staying with azzi, enjoying her company and wishing she could stay with her, forever. the laughter they share throughout the day and the quiet moments spent talking about whatever comes to mind, each day filled with a new layer of intimacy and admiration for the other. they walk hand in hand, convincing themselves every pair of friends casually do it, while they steal glances at each other, lingering just a minute too long.

as the third and final day of paige’s stay settles in, paige curls up in a blanket, positioned on azzi’s bed— the soft glow of the moon casting a silver light through the window. azzi has been unusually quiet the entire day, lost in her own consuming thoughts. paige sensed it ever since earlier, but hasn’t questioned her about it— as she drifts asleep, she silently hopes her best friend is doing alright.

around midnight, the soft sound of rustling pulls paige from her dreams. she painfully opens her eyes to see azzi crawling through the window, eyes red with tear stained cheeks. “azzi?” she whispers, her heart racing as she sits up, becoming highly alert.

azzi looks up, her eyes wide and glistening with fresh tears, “i’m sorry—“ she begins, voice shaky, “sorry for waking you.”

paige quickly moves until she reaches the brunette, pulling her down to sit on the bed, facing her. “what’s wrong, az? where were you?”

“i went to see jayden… he said he wanted to see me,” azzi whispers, shame laced in her voice, “he tried to kiss me and i panicked, so i pulled away. after that he kept saying mean things, like how he never liked me, how i’m not even pretty…”

paige swears she hears her own heart crack at the vulnerability of azzi’s words. without hesitation, she wraps her arms around azzi, pulling her close in a comforting manner. “i’m so sorry, az,” she mutters softly, feeling her friend’s body against hers, “you deserve to be treated so much better than that.”

azzi’s shoulders tremble as she leans further into paige’s grip, already feeling better with paige’s presence near. “i don’t know why i’m crying, i didn’t even like him that much. it’s just the things he kept saying…” she continues, letting out a small hiccup.

paige rubs her hand back and forth on azzi’s back, trying to soothe the girl. with this doing, azzi grows too consumed in how good it feels to be in the arms of paige.

paige pulls back slightly, just enough to view her face. “you are so special, azzi. please don’t let some boy make you feel any different.” with that, she leans in and kisses azzi’s forehead, her hands coming up to cradle her face. she drags her lips down to her cheeks, covering every inch of her face with soft, featherlike kisses. azzi’s heart lunges in her chest, feeling her pulse heighten with every kiss paige plants on her tear-stained face. when she places a final, longer kiss along her jaw, she looks up, “and for the record, he’s wrong for saying you’re not pretty. you’re fucking perfect, az.”

she sniffles, a small smile breaking through her now fading sadness.

when paige pulls away, azzi’s lips apart, wearing a hint of shock in her expression. her eyes roam the familiar blue ones that she loves all too much as tension hangs between them.

“please don’t leave tomorrow,” azzi shuts her eyes, dread of paige’s departure now overpowering her thoughts. she leans her head to touch paige’s shoulder, as her hands find their way to the blonde’s waist.

paige leans into the touch of the younger girl, not willing to admit how much she loves the feel of azzi’s hands on her body. “trust me, i don’t want to,” she replies quietly, her pulse racing at their closeness.

“then stay,” azzi attempts a smile, “stay here, with me. stay forever if you want.”

“you know i want to,” paige whispers, her voice thick with raw emotion.

azzi searches paige’s eyes, lost in her bright blue irises. her gaze drops to her lips for a brief moment, before meeting her eyes once more. paige shallows, feeling the tension fuel between them. before the blonde has time to react, azzi leans forward, connecting their lips in a soft, tender kiss. paige kisses her back, soaking up and savoring every second azzi’s lips are on hers.

the kiss dies out when azzi slowly, hesitantly pulls away, regardless of her brain screaming to continue. she takes her grip off paige’s waist, looking down nervously— did she screw everything up?

paige notices azzi’s face, clearly racked with anxiety. “it’s okay, az.” she gives her arm one last squeeze before the two girls crawl back into bed, creating some distance to avoid any further tension.

azzi soon drifts off, sleep overtaking her body after wearing herself out from all her crying. paige, however, lets her mind run free, questioning and worrying if something as little as a kiss they shared has the potential to ruin their friendship. will things change between them?

paige forces her eyes shut, trying to focus her energy on getting some rest. those attempts are useless, though— paige barely gets any sleep that night.

the morning arrives slowly for paige, considering the little amount of sleep she got throughout the night. sunlight creeps through the window, casting a gentle glow in the room. she blinks, adjusting her eyes to the light. realization that today is the day— the day she leaves azzi— sets in, making her breath hitch in her throat.

sitting up, paige glances at azzi, still soundlessly sleeping, her hair tousled in a such a perfect way. for a moment, paige allows herself to savor the sight, the way her best friend looks so serene, completely at ease.

with a heavy heart, paige gently nudges azzi. “hey, sleepyhead,” she whispers, keeping her voice light.

azzi stirs, blinking sleepily at paige. “what time is it?” she mumbles.

“eight in the morning,” paige replies, forcing a smile despite the tightening in her chest. “i have to pack.”

azzi eventually sits up, the remnants of last night’s emotions washing over her. she shifts, feeling the awkward tension arrive in the air. “you’re really leaving, aren’t you?”

“yeah. i wish i didn’t have to,” paige nods, shallowing hard.

azzi bites her lip, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. “me too, p.”

paige lets out a quiet sigh, trying to hold her heart from crushing in her chest.

paige spends the next few minutes silently packing up her duffel, wishing to god for one more day, here— with azzi, her azzi. she stuffs her toiletries into the pockets, alongside the outfits she previously packed. azzi watches, mentally preparing herself to watch her best friend leave, again.

“do you want help?” azzi asks.

paige shakes her head, trying to maintain her focus and continue packing. “no, i’ve got it. thanks though,” she answers.

as paige zips up her bag, the room feels suffocatingly quiet with all the unspoken words around them. “i hate this,” azzi whispers, voice thick. “i really don’t want you to go.”

paige turns to face her, the sight of azzi’s vulnerable side striking a chord deep within her. “neither do i,” she says, stepping closer, “it’s alright— i’ll come back eventually.”

“promise?” azzi’s eyes search paige’s, looking for the reassurance she so desperately needs.

“i promise, az,” paige says firmly, tone full of sincerity.

paige finishes up packing her bag, trying to drag her thoughts from overwhelming her brain completely. katie starts up the car as paige throws her duffel in, reality crashing down on her hard. azzi decides to join her for the car ride to the airport, wanting to stay with paige as long as she possibly can. the two girls climb into the backseat together, the tension in the air palpable.

as they drive towards the airport, the city flashing by, yet paige feels as if the time has slowed. her gaze trails azzi’s figure, who’s staring out the window, lost in thought. “you okay?” paige nudges her softly.

azzi shrugs, “it feels too real now,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.

“i know,” paige sighs, equally as quiet. she reaches for azzi’s hand, giving it a squeeze, capturing everything she wishes she could say.

they arrive at the airport— paige’s stomach curls just looking at the large doors, awaiting her entrance.

katie parks the car and the three step out into the chilling air, not bothering to make discussion. they roam into the airport; the sound of travelers and announcements fill the atmosphere, but all paige can focus on is azzi— azzi, who she’ll be leaving in a matter of minutes.

“let’s get you checked in,” katie suggests.

as they walk towards the terminal area of the airport, paige keeps the brunette closer, grabbing onto her arm to avoid loosing her in the crowd of people.

after successfully checking in, the moments of paige and azzi are limited. paige glances at her, her heart beating faster and faster. “i wish i could take you with me.”

“me too,” azzi whispers, attempting to smile at the blonde.

a couple of minutes pass with paige and azzi remaining close in distance, dreading the announcement of her broading. when it later comes, paige arises from her seat, as does azzi.

paige doesn’t wait to pull her friend into her arms, wrapping them around her frame. azzi clutches onto paige as if she’ll never see her again, squeezing her eyes closed, wishing she could stay like this forever— in paige’s arms, surrounded by her warmth.

they pull back, hands continuing to explore each others bodies in a friendly manner. paige’s blue eyes meet azzi’s brown ones, sharing a look of unspoken affection— fear, love, and an undeniable connection.

“i’ll miss you so much,” azzi reminds her, eyebrows pinching down.

“i’ll miss you more,” paige smiles, ignoring the knot in her stomach. “love you, az.”

azzi’s breath hitches in her throat, “i love you too,” she mutters, leaning in to place a long kiss on her cheek, cupping the back of her head for support.

paige turns, eyes finally tearing away from azzi as she begins walking to her gate. she glances back, finding azzi still watching her leave, looking as sad as she feels. she offers a wave and a small smile, in a way to let her know she’ll be back, when the time is right.

paige immediately pulls out her phone, not waiting a moment to text azzi.

just landed. i miss you already. can’t wait to see you again, she texts.

the response is quick: missing you loads more. facetime when you get home?

the corners of paige’s lips quirk up— obviously, she replies, excitement bubbling through her.

with a smile, paige tucks her phone away, feeling the familiar warmth spread through her. she knows she won’t be seeing azzi for a while— months, maybe more— but she knows their connection, their friendship can withstand the distance between them.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Checking His List

Warnings: stalker behaviour and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: Your shopping trip turns hectic.

Character: Curtis Everett

Day Twenty-Eight of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - the mall is packed and we keep running into each other.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

While it’s below zero outside, inside the mall, the air is sweltering. The flurry of maddened shoppers searching for gifts churns the air with body heat and a wall of noise. You want to cover your airs and shrink down to nothing. You hate crowds but you have a list and you made a promise. 

You laid it all out meticulously. You have a strategy but you’re not sure how much that will help given the furor all around. You set off to the first store on your list. The toys will be a lovely surprise at the community lunch. You know the kids won’t be getting much at home. 

You squint at the paper. You made notes of Diana’s every specification. She’s very particular but you imagine that’s why she runs the children’s centre. 

You look up as you approach the east entrance of the department store, just in time to avoid another shopper. You stutter step and back up as you wait for the man to pass. You only realise then that he isn’t moving. He’s standing entirely still amidst the crowds, though it might only be because he saw you about to crash into him. 

“Oh, sorry,” you murmur, not sure he can hear you above the Christmas carols and rowdy shoppers. 

He doesn’t reply, doesn’t react. You hesitate and step around him, issuing another apology as your stress burns even hotter. You’re really no good with the general public, worse in peak hours, and you’ve only just gotten started. 

You don’t come here often. It takes you some time to get situated and find the right aisle. Oh, those are the art sets she wanted, and the Barbies. Hum, they don’t have many within budget. Oh, and the little cars. Those are cute. 

You push your cart, only an inch before you rear back, only then seeing the man standing further down the aisle. You’re not sure you need anything else there, still you might like to check if you can limit how many stores you need to run around to.  

The man doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t even really seem to be looking at the shelves. He’s just sort of there. Then, before you can muster an ‘excuse me’ or anything, he turns and marches off. The way he walks is stiff and straight and staunch. 

As you slowly roll forward and refocus on your list, he sticks in your head. Do you know him? There was something familiar about him? Could he be one of the parents from the children’s centre? Would he be here if he was?��

You peruse and find the selection lacking. You head for the checkout and wait patiently. The line zigzags around shelves of more merchandise, shoppers continuing their spending even as they wait to get their grand total. You peer around dully, unseeingly, until a dark spec catches your eye. 

It’s that man again. The same one from the aisle. His face is unreadable. He wears a beanie and a grey jacket that should help him blend in but for whatever reason, he sticks out. 

He’s look at you? Is he? 

You crane to see behind you. The sign calls out the next available till. It’s your turn. You peek back again but the man is gone. You’re paranoid. That's all. 

You go up and unload your cartful and unfold a reuseable bag. You grabbed only your biggest bags for today. You expect it will be an awkward journey home with all this. You pay with the company card Diana lent you and neatly fold away the receipt. 

You’re certain to leave your cart in the pen meant for them and head out the west exit. It’s closer to your next stop. The bath and body store is fragrant, the air so dense with aroma that it makes your head foggy. 

You buy the cute little bottles for kids; the bubble baths and seasonal candy cane scents. A mini scrubbie for each too. As you put it all in the small basket offered to you by an associate, you look up to the tight corner ahead of you. 

A mother and daughter browse the floral assortment of candles and behind them, a man stands, undistracted by the shelves and tables of product. He watches you. Your eyes meet and you wince. It’s him! That’s so strange.  

It’s one thing to keep running into the same person. It happens in a mall, but you haven’t seen him buy one thing. You haven’t even seen him look at a single purchase. 

You turn and curl around the other side of the table of 3 for $15 candles. The checkout line is twice as long as the previous one. As hike up the bags from the department store. Why did you, the only person without a car, offer to do this? Well, for once, you wanted to feel useful. 

You sense movement. A group of girls flutter up behind you, gabbing about if they should get coffee or just go look at shoes next as they get in line behind you. Then another shadow. Darker. Taller. 

The man passes closely and stops right by you. Your heart is racing. It’s not him, it’s the crowd, the smothering press of people looking for soaps and lotions and candle melts. 

He bends and reaches for something on the floor. He brings up the soap bottle with the reindeer antlers and holds it out. It must have slipped out. You accept it from him with a thanks. These baskets aren’t great for the smaller items. 

He’s already walking away before you can get a look at his face. His grey blue eyes are stamped in your mind but the rest of him remains obscure. You shake away the odd encounter and shuffle forward with the line. 

You tuck the smaller bag of soaps and such into one of your bigger bags and continue on once free of the shop. You don’t expect the dollar store to be an easy task, but a necessary one. You need wrap and few smaller stocking stuffers. It won’t be your last stop but it’s closeby and you don’t want to double back if you can help it. 

You pause to check your list as you sidle out of the way of the dollar store entrance. Alright, that, that, that... You lift your head and push the small cart through the first row. It’s nice to have the weight off your arms, but you’ll have to pick all that up again. And more. 

As you come to end of the first aisle, the foot of the cart rams to a halt. You squeak and look up. That man! His hands clamp onto the end of the cart and you blink. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to.” 

He just stares and looks past you. He steps around the cart and as he comes along the side, you shrink down, shying away as you expect the worst. Instead, he inserts himself between you and the cart you hear rolling down after you. He stays there, a barrier between you and the unseen shopper. That’s... strange. 

You scurry on frantically. You’re jittering from it all. The man, the hordes, the assault of lights and noise. You need to get out of her soon. 

You get as much gift wrap and bags as you need and use the self-checkout. You’re grateful for that modern convenience. Your social wick is burning short. 

You park your cart, take your bags, and go. As you emerge into the mall, a man walks full force into you, his wife narrowly missing you with her baby stroller. Neither of them apologise as you struggle not to topple. You lift the bags higher with all your strength and forge forward. 

You go to the end of the bench where a few teen boys sit with their skateboards. You turn your back to them and face the mall map. You take a deep breath and hold it in. You’re about to crack. This was a big mistake. You’re barely strong enough to go get groceries on a given week. You just wanted to help! That’s why you volunteer with the kids, even if you mostly hide in the background. 

Your eyes are glassy as you fight back tears. You release your breath slowly. It hurts. The panic attack needles hotly in your forehead and ears. 

“Scram,” the deep voice cuts through the hubbub and the snap of dry fingers adds the punctuation. 

The boys behind you quiet and you turn your head to watch over your shoulder as they grab their boards and hurry away. The man in the beanie sits, knees wide, and leans his elbows on his legs. He curls his shoulders and looks around like a guard dog. 

Your skin tingles as you sit only a few feet from him. You should go too, before you lose all your nerve. Your bags crinkle as you hook the handles around your hands. 

“You don’t gotta go,” he says. 

You wince and turn to him. He keeps his gaze aimed at the closest store. You peer around. 

“Busy,” he comments. 

“Um, yes it is,” you agree. “Thanks, er, I got more to get.” 

You gulp and turn away. Your bags hit the bench as you flee. That was weird too. Or maybe you’re just unbearably clueless. It seems like he was trying to give you space. That he chased away those boys deliberately. But why? 

Flavoured lip glosses, sparkly nail polishes, socks themed for the most popular kids’ shows... you check the marks off your list in your final haul. Just one more thing. A few of the boys like to play knights but the foam swords are all whittling away from play. 

You go down the next aisle, your cart doing little to part the sea of people. You can see what you need. The toy blades and even a few shields. You try to inch forward as an older man turns to the other shelf, but another woman fills the space before you can. 

You wheel back and wait. You just need to get in and out. The woman finally moves and as you go to roll ahead, another cart noses into yours and squeezes into the space. You sniff and pull back again. 

You stare helplessly. That wasn’t very polite but she doesn’t seem to notice. She takes out her phone and ignores you and the shelves. Is she even looking? 

“Hey,” the gritty voice chills you as a large hand rests on the front of your cart. The man in the beanie steps between you and that woman, “you should apologise.” 

“Huh? What?” She keeps her phone up but you can’t see much else. 

“You hit her with your cart. Say sorry.” 

“Who? What are you talking about?” 

“Apologise,” he peels his hand form the cart and jabs his thumb toward you without looking. 

The woman huffs then leans to see you. You give a hapless shrug. Her eyes scan up the man’s dark jacket and she shifts. 

“I-- I didn’t realise,” she clears her throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” 

“Maybe if you cared more about what’s going on than your phone,” the man snarls, looming over her until she backs away. She turns and grabs her cart, nearly hitting another as she rushes away. 

He lets go and turns back, marching past you without a word. You can’t speak either. You’re burnt out. You’re going to get the last of it and go. 

You finally get your turn and grab a couple of swords, each with a different colour handle, and some shields. You put it in your cart and circle the perimeter of the store to avoid the claustrophobic aisles. The checkout line however cannot be avoided. 

You step into the narrow snaking lane where you are to wait your turn. As you lean on your cart, there’s a brush against your back, and another, and another. The garble of voices behind you drone with the rest of the overwhelming noises all around. You sink your head down and cover your ears. You can’t take it anymore. 

You’re jostled again as a man laughs loudly and his elbow jabs your back. You gasp and turn to see what’s going on. A black shape moves decisively from the back of the line, cutting along the edge without falter.  

The man in the beanie steps up and extends his arm between you and the man after you, the one who keeps knocking into you. He pushes him calmly away and inserts himself there, back to you as he crosses his arms and plants his feet wide. 

“Hey, dude, you’re butting--” 

“Pay attention,” the man growls. “You’re being a nuisance.” 

“Dude, I’m waiting--” 

“You’re bothering people. Too loud.” 

“Whatever. You a cop or some shit?” 

The man doesn’t answer. He doesn’t move either. Even as the line ahead of you does. You roll with it and he keeps his barrier in place. You can’t help but be thankful for the unrequested buffer. 

You pay, get your receipt, fill up your last bag, and push your cart into the corral by the door. You’re not going back through the mall.

Before you can back up, another shopper shoulders by and snatches the cart you just disposed. You stagger back and watch, dumbfounded. What is wrong with people? 

Your ears are ringing and your eyes watering, and you didn’t factor in being physically battered by a shopping trip. This time of year is horrid. It’s chaos. People are animals. Just like you always knew. 

Your arms strain as you clutch your bags and make a slow progress through the automatic doors. You just need to get to the bus. You stop just to the left of the doors and try to adjust your grasp. 

Before you can, the weight is lifted and something rough brushes around your fingers. You are too stunned to resist as the bags are unhooked from your hands. You reel around and face the thief. You’re an easy target. 

“Where’s your car?” It’s that man in his beanie, with the grey eyes and the dark stubble. 

“I-- I don’t--- Who are you?” 

“A good samaritan,” he rasps.  

“You don’t have to--” You reach for the bags and he steps out of your reach. “I don’t have a car.” 

He stares at you, “I can walk you.” 

“It’s fine, the bus stop---” you nod towards the street. 

“Bus...” he mutters. “Dangerous. With all this.” 

“It’s fine,” you insist. 

“I have a truck. I’ll drive you.” 

“You don’t-- why?” You sputter. 

He looks around. He’s quiet as his eyes scan the area. “Merry Christmas.” It’s not a very cheery tiding. 

“Oh, but--” 

“Curtis,” he says. 

“What?” 

“So we’re not strangers. I’m Curtis, and you?” 

You heave and give your name. “I really can’t let you do all that--” 

“But I’m going to,” he says and turns away. You have no choice but to follow him. 

“Wait--” 

“I don’t like crowds either,” he intones as you scurry to keep up with him. 

You want to say you don’t think anyone does but you’re still reeling, as much from the hectic experience in the mall as from his sudden act of... kindness? 

He stops behind a slate gray truckbed and slips the bags onto his wrist. He fishes in his pocket and there’s a loud click as it unlocks. He pulls open the back and loads your shopping under the heavy cover. 

“You have a lot of kids?” He wonders. 

You shake your head, “I work at the community centre. Volunteer, actually...” 

He nods and shuts the back of the truck. You wring your hands shakily and stare at the silver lock. You frown and look up at him, finding him staring at you already. 

“You don’t trust me,” he reaches into his jacket and takes out a canister. “Well, if I make a wrong move, press down.” 

He holds out the long black spray can. You shake your head. What is it? 

“Bear mace. You can keep it.” 

You furrow your brow and continue to gape at the inexplicable offer. Why does he have this? 

“Can never be too safe,” he takes your hand and places the can in it. “Make sure those toys get back safe for those kids.” 

You wrap your fingers around the metal and he lets you go. You look down at it then at him again. You’re so confused but too tired to argue. You suppose it is the season for giving, even if he doesn’t seem the festive type. 

“Anywhere else you need to go?” He asks as he takes his keys out. 

You shake your head and back away. He watches you for a moment before he moves himself. He walks up on side of the truck and you the other. The door locks thunk loudly. 

Well, whoever Curtis is, can he be any worse than the general holiday shopper? 

[g3tj1nx3d14]

even more caitvi / violyn because i’m bored !! fair warning i’m SO tired so these will be incoherent

warning, spoilers up to act three season two, NSFW after the big warning, and mentions of alc + w33d

SFW

• I see a lot of people saying Vi would smoke, but I fear Caitlyn could also be a bit of a stoner. She was insanely nervous when Vi got her to try smoking, but after her first time taking an edible and getting in a bubble bath with a book? She’s relaxed, that’s her new favorite little thing.

• Vi quit drinking after her underground fighting time. She doesn’t like how it makes her feel, especially as she’s been trying to develop more healthy coping mechanisms for stress.

• Caitlyn gets jealous. It’s harder to tell, as when Vi gets jealous— which is much rarer than Caitlyn— she tends to be very obvious. Grabbing Caitlyn’s waist, the obvious comments of “MY girlfriend”, maybe even straight up PDA. But Caitlyn? Oh, you looked at Vi the right way and all of the sudden Caitlyn is plotting your downfall. She doesn’t share well, at all.

• Random less wholesome one because I like hurting people emotionally; when Caitlyn got out of surgery for her eye— considering she lost it, there must’ve been some sort of surgical process post stabbing— she didn’t call for Vi or Jayce like expected. She called for her mom.

• Vander used to just yank his kids around, so the kids did it to each other too. Not in any bad way, just scruffing them or pulling them over his shoulder with no hesitation. Vi didn’t notice most families didn’t do this until the first time she wanted to show Caitlyn something in the other room and decided to just yank her out of her seat and carry her into the other room.

• Vi and Caitlyn would SO have a dog. 100%. There’s no disagreements there, but on the name? A huge disagreement. Caitlyn wants to name it a cute person name, while Vi wants to name it something stupid. They both train it to respond to their name. This dog ends up named like, Florence but also replies to Microwave.

• Given the amount of explosions they’ve both been in proximity to, they both have wonky hearing. They’re either always super close to hear each other properly or kind of shouting and not realizing it.

• Vi gets more piercings. 100% would.

okay freaky time, warning we’re lowk getting nasty in a good way

NSFW

• I need to elaborate on the Vi bites thing because I’m so sure it’s true to me. She’s biting Caitlyn’s shoulder anytime it’s exposed. Biting her fingers whenever they’re near her mouth. Biting down on her thighs. Everything. She grins like a smug idiot whenever she sees Caitlyn with teeth marks.

• Similarly, Vi is a hickey leaver. She takes it as a challenge whenever she sees Caitlyn try to cover up a love bite.

• Caitlyn tried to do a similar thing, leaving lipstick marks all over her face to embarrass her, but she was proven to be an idiot for that when Vi proudly showed everyone what her girlfriend did.

• Vi would SO be a strap user I fear, and she treats it like it’s her own. I know a lot of people hc the hex strap as feeling like it’s an actual appendage for the user, but if she’s using that or not, Vi is 100% using that shit like she can. Now I can’t stop imagining Cait giving her strap head SORRY IM A FREAK

• Vi tried to tease a few times, but Caitlyn was somehow even more patient than her and cracked before she did.

• Caitlyn used to think she’d always be solely into very pre-planned sex— think candles, already having a plan of what she’d do beforehand, never spur of the moment— but Vi quickly changed her mind. Before Vi, she usually had to spend a bit of time before any hook up trying to make herself get worked up, but with Vi? She could see her in her pajamas, half brushed hair, just grinning at her in a certain way, and she’s jumping on her.

• Vi lowkey seems like the type to lick her fingers after ✌️.

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Snacks for the Pack

Joel miller x F!Reader

Warnings: some family fluff 🤎

Notes: guys my sister and I moved into our own house, but our dad stops by almost every day to drop something off or fix something in our house, ans he usually brings us something like coffee and bubble yea. It didn't occur to us that we expected it till he came one day and didn't bring us a snacky, and we were disappointed. Thus: this fic is born!

- - - -

Ok, so here's the thing about your Joel. He's so selfless and always thinking about his family, he never consciously realizes it. And that can be a great thing... until you create a pack of spoiled girls in the house who know not what it feels like to not be spoiled 24/7.

So now you, Sarah, Spoon, and Ellie heard the garage, and all subconsciously got up from your spots in the house, lined up at the door, and waited for Joel to come in. He's on the phone when he does, but gives each one of his ladies (even Spoon) a kiss on the head.

But then he just. Keeps walking in. Closes the garage. Drops his keys on the table, and goes straight for his office.

And then four of his duckling family shuffle behind him on cue, in height order of you, Sarah, Spoon, and little Ellie. Eager and patiently awaiting.

He sits down and finishes his call before rubbing his face and opening his laptop. It takes a moment before he realizes 8 eyeballs anxiously staring at him from the doorway. Even Spoon was licking her chops in anticipation.

"Uhhh... can I help you ladies?"

You look very perplexed. "Did you... need help unloading the car?"

"Uh... no. There's nothing left in the truck....?"

"Nothing. Not even like... in the cup holders... or...." you twirl your fingers, hoping it'll suddenly click that he simply put it... somewhere else of course!

Joel's at a complete loss. Did he forget an anniversary? Birthday gift? He didn't say anything before he left to drop off the package at the post office. Yet here you all were with big, pleading eyes expecting something from him.

"You didn't. Get us anything," you say, coming to the disappointing conclusion.

"Wha--no. Was i supposed to? I'm sorry, I dont remember if you had asked"

Well no, we ... never ask but you always just. Bring us a little treat--" God you felt stupid standing here like pavlov's dog trained to salivate when your husband got home.

Honestly he TRAINED you all to be like this!

See, when you were pregnant and suddenly craving snackies every day, Joel got into the habit of just always bringing you something whenever he would come home. A latte, coffee, bubble tea, hot pretzel, frozen slushie, milkshake etc. So much so that you'd feel like you were wagging your imaginary tail and rushing off the couch every time you heard the garage, and eagerly give him a kiss when he presented you with the daily snack.

Well then Sarah came along. He still brought snacks home for you now out of habit, and Sarah got to the point where she'd take a sip or bite from yours. So daddy coming home was very exciting for her indeed. Like a little reward.

But then you got pregnant again. And suddenly sharing ANYTHING with your little girl kinda irked you. So Joel had the very great intuition of just getting her a little something for herself.

Spoon also saw the two of you constantly approaching the door and being rewarded when Joel would come home, so she'd sit patiently, and Joel started bringing little dog treats or pup cups for her too.

Then Ellie came along, and she wasn't much for coffee, but she DID love the little cake pops that the bakery sold.

Joel curls his brows. Thinking about it, he guess he DID usually come home with something, but he never really sets out with intention most days. It's kinda just... a stop along the way. Today he didn't pass a coffee shop so it didn't even occur to him that--

"Daddy, no cake pop?" Baby Ellie asks in his soft, high, sweet little sad voice, twisting her hips with her pouty lips. Her eyes welled up all shiny as if on the brink of tears.

His entire heart shatters in that moment.

Door, keys, ignition, gas.

15 minutes later and Joel is back, balancing an iced coffee, Tea latte, pup cup of whipped cream, and a few cake pops on sticks. You each grabbed what is intended for you ans give him a fat kiss on the cheek before returning to your corners of the house.

Joel blushes with a barely contained grin.

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist @jeewrites

[kawoala]

hi!! i would like to request sakusa having a very cheerful girlfriend who gradually changes her appearance little by little, he doesn’t notice it because he thinks she’s beautiful in any way, like lets say she used to have this fluffy wavy hair then she just smoothen it and her clothes used to have fun patterns on them now its just plain. then one day he just goes “what happened to your hair?�� And she just breaks down because she did all that so that she could fit into his ‘type’. you can make it as fluffy or as angsty as you wantt, thank youu sm💗💗

𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 fit in word count ; (777) content warning ; (first time writing for him BEAR WITH ME, curly hair! reader, insecurity, angst to comfort, profanity, crying)

It starts off small. So small, in fact, that Kiyoomi convinces himself that he’s imagining things.

The first thing he notices is small. A mute blue hoodie instead of your usual bright yellow one. If he were anyone else, he wouldn’t have even noticed it. He thought it was odd at the moment, but assumed you just hadn’t done laundry.

The next thing he notices is that you’ve been gradually replacing your loud jewelry— different shaped beads of all shapes and colors— with simple, silver jewelry. He wants to comment on it, but he assumes you’re just trying out new things. You’ve always liked to do that, right?

When you start straightening your hair more often and wearing it in slick-backs, he’s confused. You’re basically a shell of your past self by now. Fun, loud colors turned to dark, muted colors. If he was paying closer attention, he would compare it to his own closet and see the similarity. Jewelry that clinks against each other with each step, is now a simple chain with a heart pendant. Your beautiful curly hair— now straight, hanging down your back as you do the dishes.

Kiyoomi sits at the dining room table, eyes narrowed as he pieces all of this change together. His chin is in his hand, his elbow on the table, one finger framing his face. He wants to say something— badly. But if he does? Who knows what will happen. Maybe you’re just growing. That’s a thing people do, right? People change over the years. Kiyoomi knows he sure as hell has.

“You straightened your hair,” he finally says, breaking the silence. He watches as you stop scrubbing the dish you're holding. “And you stopped wearing your jewelry.”

You hesitate to answer, he can see that. Your body twitches as if it’s going to turn around, but you don’t. You continue scrubbing at the dish. “I, um, got overstimulated. Couldn’t deal with the curls and the, uh, loud beads.”

Kiyoomi hums, because he knows you’re lying. There’s a shake to your voice that he can’t quite place.

“Do you not like it?” Your voice is quiet. Tentative. Timid. Something he’s never heard from you before.

He stands from the table and walks over to you, standing directly behind you. “I love you in all shapes and forms,” he says. “But you straightened your hair yesterday. And the day before that. And you put your jewelry in a box in the closet.” You turn to look at him, eyes widened a fraction. “Yeah, I saw it.” He frowns. “What’s going on? Why are you… changing yourself?”

You press your lips together and avoid his eyes. He takes your chin in his hand, making you look at him. His heart skips at the sight of tears on your waterline. “What’s wrong, Y/n?”

“I… I was just…” you can’t even get your sentence out. “You’re so clean. You and your family are… You’re nice and proper and rich and I am not. I am loud and obnoxious and I dress like an elementary school teacher and my hair is loud and big and I do not fit in with you.”

Kiyoomi is stunned. The words tumble out of your mouth, tears fall down your cheeks and Kiyoomi can’t move. His lips part in a desperate attempt to speak, but nothing comes out.

Kiyoomi has never been one for physical affection. Growing up, his parents never hugged him. His sister was much older, so she wasn’t around to fulfill that either. But in this moment, as the tears don’t stop and you’re practically choking on your own breath, Kiyoomi presses your face into his chest and wraps his arms around you.

“You are perfect just the way you are,” Kiyoomi mumbles into your hair. “I love your big, curly hair and I love the way you dress and I love you. You don’t need to change who you are just because you think you don’t fit in. You do fit in with me. And who gives a fuck what my parents think, hm? They don’t even know you, Y/n, but if they did, they would love you too. It’s not how you dress, or how you act, it’s you. I love you.”

Slowly but surely, your breathing steadies. You’re no longer choking on your own breath, no longer shaking. You keep your face pressed into his chest.

You pull away eventually and stare up at him with big, wet eyes. “I love you too.”

He presses another kiss into your hair and smiles down at you. “Good. Now, what do you want for dinner? I’ll make it tonight, okay?”

[cruel-seduction]

Bruised and Healing

"Do you know the scene where the heroine repeatedly punches the hero's chest, her blows soft but filled with all the anger and heartbreak she’s bottled up, and he just stands there, taking it, until he finally, slowly, grabs her wrists? And she just breaks, sobbing into him because it’s all too much to bear? Yeah, the real drug. That’s the plot. So sit back, grab your snacks, and enjoy, bitches."

Content Warning:

This story contains themes of emotional hurt, fear, and the aftermath of trauma. It includes moments of intense emotional conflict and personal vulnerability. There are also references to physical injuries.

GLIMPSE - “You don’t get to decide that,” you said quietly, your voice still shaky but steadier now. “You don’t get to decide what I can handle.”

Peter blinked, his lips parting as if to argue, but nothing came out. Instead, he gave a soft, humourless laugh. “You’re right,” he admitted, a flicker of his usual self breaking through. “You always are. That’s actually very unfair, by the way.”

It had been days. Days of uncertainty and endless waiting, your phone clutched tightly in your hand as you stared at the screen, praying for a call, a message, anything. But there was nothing. Not a single word from Peter. The silence hung in the air like a suffocating cloud, and the longer it went on, the more the anxiety gnawed at you.

Every time you walked into the apartment, the absence of his presence hit you like a punch in the gut. His stuff was still there—his sneakers by the door, his jacket thrown over the back of the couch—but Peter was nowhere to be found. You knew he had to be out there, somewhere, doing Spider-Man things, but you also knew that sometimes that meant danger, and sometimes that meant he wouldn’t come back.

Each minute that passed felt like an eternity, the panic simmering under your skin, threatening to boil over. You tried to be patient. You tried to remind yourself that Peter was strong, capable, that he could handle anything. But you couldn’t help it. The images of him injured, alone, or worse, plagued you relentlessly.

It was on the fourth night, when the exhaustion from waiting and worrying was starting to swallow you whole, that he finally showed up.

You hadn’t heard him come in. Your eyes were half-lidded as you sat on the couch, staring blankly at the wall, when you heard the quiet thud of his shoes hitting the floor. You whipped around, heart racing, only to see him standing in the doorway, looking like he had crawled straight out of hell.

His face was bruised, cut in a few places, and his usually neat hair was matted with sweat. His suit was torn in places, the fabric hanging from his body like something that had been through a storm. His eyes were bloodshot, tired—worse than tired. They looked hollow, haunted. He was barely standing on his own two feet, swaying ever so slightly.

“Peter…” The word came out shakily, as if you’d forgotten how to breathe.

He winced slightly at your voice but gave you a weak smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey… I’m fine, really.”

You stood up quickly, taking a few cautious steps toward him, but then the reality of everything came crashing down like a tidal wave. Your fear, your frustration, and the helplessness of the past few days all rushed to the surface in an instant. The anger burned, and it consumed you like wildfire.

“Fine? You’re fine?” The words came out in a sharp breath, louder than you expected, and you took a step closer to him. “Where the hell have you been, Peter? I was worried. I couldn’t—God, I couldn’t even breathe while you were gone. You didn’t even—you didn’t even call.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He wasn’t ready for this. Hell, he didn’t know what to say either. His chest ached, but not from the bruises or wounds—he was aching from your voice, the accusation. He could feel it in his bones, how badly you’d been hurt, and yet, he couldn’t find the words to fix it.

“You can’t just vanish like that,” you continued, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. “I don’t care how tough you are, Peter! I don’t care if you’re Spider-Man or whatever the hell you think you are. You don’t just disappear and expect me to be fine.”

You took another step toward him, the fury inside of you like a constant hum in your chest. And then, without thinking, you were on him, your hands pushing against his chest in rapid succession. One hit, two, three. Each one harder than the last. Your frustration, your fear, your worry—all of it was exploding in that moment.

Peter didn’t flinch. He didn’t try to stop you. He just stood there, letting you hit him, each strike echoing in the still apartment. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, but he didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t stop you. He knew why you were doing it. He deserved it.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

You kept hitting him, more rapidly now, the tension in your body unbearable. You could feel the heat of your anger in your fingertips, each strike a desperate plea for him to acknowledge the panic that had taken over you. Every hit sent shockwaves through him, but he didn’t protest. He stood still, letting you vent your frustration.

And then, just as you were about to pull away, his hand, large and warm, gently wrapped around your wrist. His touch was so gentle, it didn’t hurt—just grounded you, stopped you in your tracks. The rapid fire of your hands came to a halt, and you finally looked up at him, your chest heaving, your face flushed with emotion.

Peter didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, looking down at you, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist, his gaze soft, regretful. But it was his other hand that reached out for you next. It moved slowly, almost like he was afraid to touch you, but then it landed gently on your waist, pulling you closer into him.

You stiffened for a moment, the tension between you still thick, but there was something in his touch—something that was more than just physical. You could feel his exhaustion, his guilt, his pain—all of it bleeding through the simple act of holding you. And then, without a word, he bent his head slightly, his forehead resting gently against yours, the space between you still filled with so many unsaid things.

His chest rose and fell beneath your hand, the weight of his exhaustion settling into your bones. And as you stood there, in the quiet of your apartment, surrounded by the remnants of your anger and his mistakes, you finally understood. He didn’t have to say it out loud. You both already knew.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his forehead pressed gently against yours. The heat of the moment, the flood of emotions, everything you’d been bottling up for days, it all surged to the surface. You tried to hold it in, tried to stay strong, but it was no use. The tears began to fall, hot and uncontrolled, stinging as they rolled down your cheeks.

You turned your face away quickly, not wanting him to see, but Peter felt it—he felt the tremble of your body as your shoulders shook with silent sobs. His grip on your wrist loosened, and without missing a beat, he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you, not caring about his own exhaustion or the fact that he was still barely holding himself together.

“Baby… no.” His voice was strained, barely above a whisper, as he gently cupped your face, his thumb wiping away the tears that had escaped. “Please don’t cry.”

You tried to push him away, embarrassed by your breakdown, but he held you tighter, pressing your head into his chest. His shirt was damp, but you didn’t care. You needed to feel his warmth, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. You felt weak, vulnerable, exposed, and it terrified you. But Peter didn’t let you pull away. He gently cupped the back of your head, cradling you against him, his fingers threading through your hair as he whispered your name softly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Peter murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He tilted your head up so you could look at him, his eyes searching yours with that familiar, heart-wrenching intensity. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You sniffled, wiping your eyes roughly, trying to gain some composure, but Peter wasn’t having any of it. “Hey,” he said softly, his hand moving to gently caress your cheek. “You’re everything to me. I hate seeing you like this. I can’t stand it.”

You just shook your head, fresh tears welling in your eyes. “I thought… I thought I lost you,” you choked out, your voice raw from the fear that had been eating at you for days. “I couldn’t do it again. I can’t handle the thought of—"

“No.” He interrupted you firmly, his hands framing your face as he leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours again. “You won’t. You won’t lose me. I swear to you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Peter’s voice was low and steady, his tone a promise, as he brushed your tears away, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips in that slow, comforting gesture. The tenderness in his touch was enough to quiet the storm inside of you. You let him soothe you, letting him wipe away the remnants of your tears as he murmured reassurances. His words, though soft, were solid, like the quiet conviction of someone who had seen and survived far too much to lose anything else.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, his lips brushing the top of your head as he pulled you even closer, enveloping you in his arms completely. “You mean more to me than anything, you know that? More than anything in this world. I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll never put you through that again.”

His voice cracked on the last sentence, and you could feel the vulnerability in him, too—his fear of losing you, of failing you. That broken part of him that was so fiercely protective, yet still haunted by the constant weight of his life as Spider-Man. But right now, in this moment, it doesn't matter. You were together, and that was enough.

“I was so scared,” you finally whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

The words nearly broke him. His head dipped, and he pressed a kiss to the crown of your hair, his lips lingering there as he breathed you in. He didn’t speak for a moment, didn’t trust himself to, afraid his voice might crack under the weight of it all.

“Scared?” he finally repeated, his tone soft and reverent. “Of me?”

You shook your head against him, your voice cracking. “Not of you—scared for you. I thought…” You didn’t finish the sentence. You couldn’t.

Peter exhaled shakily, his hand stilling in your hair before cupping the back of your head gently. He leaned down further, resting his chin lightly on top of your head. “I know,” he said quietly, his voice thick. “I know. And I’m sorry I put you through that.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand coming up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed the dampness from your cheek, even as you tried to turn your head away, unwilling to let him see you like this. But Peter wasn’t having it.

“Hey,” he whispered, his tone firm but impossibly gentle. “Look at me.”

You hesitated, but the softness in his voice—and the warmth in his touch—coaxed you into meeting his gaze. His brown eyes were filled with something you couldn’t quite name, something raw and overwhelming, but it made your chest tighten.

“You know me,” he said softly. “You know me. You’re the strongest person I know, but I—I’ve gotta stop putting you through this. I swear, I’ll be better.” He leaned his forehead against yours again, closing his eyes. “Just… I can’t stand to see you like this. I hate it. You deserve so much better than me coming home looking like—like this.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” you said quietly, your voice still shaky but steadier now. “You don’t get to decide what I can handle.”

Peter blinked, his lips parting as if to argue, but nothing came out. Instead, he gave a soft, humourless laugh. “You’re right,” he admitted, a flicker of his usual self breaking through. “You always are. That’s actually very unfair, by the way.”

Despite yourself, a small, watery chuckle escaped your lips, and Peter’s eyes lit up like he’d just seen the sun for the first time in days.

“There it is,” he murmured with a crooked grin. “That laugh could cure just about anything. Might even get rid of this bruised rib situation I’ve got going on.”

You shook your head, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “You’re an idiot,” you muttered.

“Yeah, well, you’re stuck with this idiot,” he said, his tone playful but warm. “Because no matter how mad you get at me, or how many times I screw up, I’m not going anywhere.”

The vulnerability in his voice struck something deep inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you were leaning up, your arms wrapping around his neck. Peter caught you effortlessly, his hands settling on your waist as he pulled you closer.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. “I mean it. You’re the only thing that keeps me sane out there. The only thing that keeps me coming home.”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips, and his breath fanned across your skin as he hesitated, giving you the space to pull away if you wanted. But you didn’t. You leaned into him instead, your lips finding his in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and filled with all the things you couldn’t put into words.

Peter’s hands shifted, one sliding up to cup your jaw while the other remained firm at your waist, anchoring you to him. The kiss deepened gradually, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. He tasted like salt and something metallic—probably from a busted lip—but you didn’t care.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless, his forehead pressed to yours again as he whispered, “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

And in that moment, you believed him.

Border by @enchanthings-a

[oceanicwriting]

is not allowed.

summary: since the holidays began, you have taken care of the youngest son of the berkshire family. one night, while the little one sleeps, the creature's older brother is home, and the sensations begin to be too intense to keep you standing.

pairing(s): non-wizard!lorenzo berkshire x non-wizard!fem!reader

a/n: my first lorenzo fic! i tried my best :-).

+18 smut, oral sex (fem receiving), masturbation (fem receiving), cursing, silence sex (?)

ㅤㅤㅤ—we're leaving! —mrs. berkshire announces, appearing in the kitchen where franklin, her youngest son, is eating dinner—. remember...

ㅤㅤㅤ—no more video games and straight to sleep when the clock strikes eight —the little one interrupts, receiving a loud kiss from his mother and four pats on the back from his father—. you've already told her many times, mom.

ㅤㅤㅤthe woman laughs, and even if franklin had told her, she repeats her conditions again in a whisper. when they leave, the boy starts talking about his best friend carl's birthday party.

ㅤㅤㅤever since summer started and you returned to your hometown, you've taken care of franklin berkshire. your mother, who has been a friend of the family for a while, had helped you get the job that the other babysitter had abandoned for no apparent reason. no one talked about it, and when you asked franklin the first few weeks, he always got in a bad mood.

ㅤㅤㅤ—and lisa made out with holden —he says, finishing telling all the things that happened on that birthday. you look at him, surprised by what he had just said—. a kiss on the cheek.

ㅤㅤㅤ—that seems more appropriate to me. aren't you, like, five years old to be making out? —the little boy's face at your words makes you laugh, but you stop when you notice that he is pushing the asparagus away from his salad—. you must eat everything that is on your plate, young man.

ㅤㅤㅤ—we are ten years old. —he answers, crossing his arms—. and i do not like asparagus.

ㅤㅤㅤyou laugh softly, but you stop when lorenzo berkshire, the oldest son of the family, appears well dressed in the kitchen.

ㅤㅤㅤ—she told you that you have to eat everything, dwarf. —his thick voice fills all the empty space of the place, and you can notice how franklin tense with his presence—. she will accuse you with your mommy.

ㅤㅤㅤyou knew they didn't get along at all. franklin started saying he was a fool from day one, and when you met him, you could only confirm it.

ㅤㅤㅤ—lorenzo...

ㅤㅤㅤ—you don't order me around —franklin says, getting up from his chair to leave the kitchen with quick steps.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo rolls his eyes, and you go after the little boy, but you stop to look at him and say—: can you stop picking fights with him? he's just a kid.

ㅤㅤㅤhe looks at you. his cold, disinterested eyes are attractive, making you forget that you're after the boy.

ㅤㅤㅤ—will you wash this glass for me, darling? —he leaves the glass in which he drank water and smiles satisfied—. thanks.

ㅤㅤㅤyou want to say something, but lorenzo walks out the door to the garage, not in the mood to listen to you much longer.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen you meet franklin in the living room, you notice that he's still frowning. to cheer him up, you suggest to play a board game until eight o'clock, filling the room with your laughter and complaints every time you beat him. you play until the phone rings the alarm that tells you to get him ready for bed.

ㅤㅤㅤ—are you still mad about your brother? —you ask. he's lying in his bed, covered up to his neck, and his uneasy gaze glued to the ceiling of the room.— you know he does this to make you angry, franklin. you shouldn't listen to him.

ㅤㅤㅤ—he's an idiot.

ㅤㅤㅤyou nod softly, leaving a kiss on his forehead to wish him goodnight and leaving the room. as usual, you leave the door ajar in case he wakes up in the middle of the night and goes down to the first floor.

ㅤㅤㅤmr. and mrs. berkshire would arrive home around midnight, so, killing time, you start washing franklin's dirty dishes.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen it was around ten at night, you decided to watch a movie in the living room, but you couldn't do it without some snacks to accompany you. in the cupboard, you look for a bag of popcorn to make in the microwave, although you didn't finish closing the appliance because lorenzo's presence in the kitchen makes its way like a tornado.

ㅤㅤㅤthe garage door had closed so hard that it practically echoed throughout the block, and his footsteps weren't far behind. his whole body moved tensely towards the kitchen exit, dragging an air full of rage.

ㅤㅤㅤ—franklin is asleep, lorenzo. —the simple sound of your voice makes him stop halfway, turning on his heels—. i would appreciate it if you did not stomp so hard on the second floor.

ㅤㅤㅤhis eyes scan your body, this time more slowly than before leaving a few hours ago. the confusion in your gaze is obvious, but lorenzo does not seem to notice it. he was so angry at the way his now ex-girlfriend had treated him that he did not notice anything other than the figure of your body.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what time do my parents arrive? —he asks, walking in your direction slowly.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo berkshire is a tall boy with brown hair and eyes. his smooth, flawless skin gave the impression that he had never had a bad day in his life. he was spoiled, envious, demanding, and the epitome of beauty in all its letters.

ㅤㅤㅤ—at midnight —you answer, putting the bags of popcorn in the microwave and walking to find a bowl to put them in.

ㅤㅤㅤ—that gives me enough time —he says. you were going to ignore his words and the way your body reacted to feeling his gaze on you, but you can't when his hand tightens on your arm—. do you have a boyfriend?

ㅤㅤㅤ—what? —you pull on his arm to get him to let go of you, but there is no reaction from him—. what are you doing? leave me.

ㅤㅤㅤhe shakes his head, cornering you against the nearest wall.

ㅤㅤㅤ—do you have a boyfriend?

ㅤㅤㅤ—why do you care?

ㅤㅤㅤyour head spins from the strong scent of alcohol on his breath and expensive perfume wafting from his bare neck. lorenzo has his dark eyes glued to yours so intensely that it was suffocating.

ㅤㅤㅤ—no. i don't have a boyfriend.

ㅤㅤㅤhe smiles, satisfied that he doesn't have to do much more to get an answer out of you. his tongue runs over his teeth in the middle of his smile, and you feel a dead weight fall on your stomach. the hand that was holding your arm began to rise with the tips of his fingers caressing your skin. when he reaches your neck, without stopping to look at you, your whole body bristles.

ㅤㅤㅤ—lorenzo, what are you...?

ㅤㅤㅤ—so precious.

ㅤㅤㅤhis face moves closer to the crook of your neck, leaving wet kisses, running his tongue over it, and sucking on parts of your skin. your perfume stings his nose, and you can feel him sigh against you. the sensations blooming unsettle you because you knew you were doing something that wasn't allowed. something forbidden was brewing between you two, and you had to do something before it get out of control.

ㅤㅤㅤ—lorenzo, wait —you say, pushing him. he responds to your reaction with a raised eyebrow—. your brother is sleeping upstairs.

ㅤㅤㅤyou should have said something else to stop him, something as simple as not wanting to do it, but the unsatisfied feeling had already begun to torture your mind.

ㅤㅤㅤ—then you better not be so boisterous, precious.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo pulls your arm, pushing you afterward against the island. everything happens so fast that from one moment to the next, you are sitting on the raw ivory of the island, half dressed and feeling his mouth wander fearlessly along the expanse of your torso. this time, he bites, licks, and sucks more roughly than a few minutes ago when he hid his face in your neck.

ㅤㅤㅤyour breathing becomes disordered when you can feel his messy hair tickling the inside of your thighs. his face so close to your needy pussy makes you clench the throbbing wetness. lorenzo smiles like a predator and begins to kiss the expanse of your soft legs.

ㅤㅤㅤ—l-lorenzo —you try to say, formulate a complete sentence that would make him enter his five senses, but you can't when you yourself feel your own desire forming—. please.

ㅤㅤㅤhis mouth slams against your pussy, making you jump at the sensation. lorenzo's tongue wanders between your lips, clitoris and entrance as if he wanted to memorize every texture he can find. it's a matter of time before your moans have to be silenced by your own hand.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo berkshire knew how to tap his tongue against your folds, how to suck on your clit until you were satisfied and how to look at you to turn you into a bundle of muffled moans. although you would never have imagined it, now that you see him there, you think about how much you would like to do it more often.

ㅤㅤㅤshortly after, one of his hands joins the wetness of his mouth, burying himself without any preparation in you. tears accumulate in your eyes from the combination of his fingers probing your insides roughly and his mouth demanding more every time a moan escaped you. the sensations begin to drive you crazy.

ㅤㅤㅤhe can notice the way your thighs squeeze his head, so he sucks and flicks his tongue faster as his fingers don't leave a moment of peace. as surprising as it may be, the desire you had built up explodes against his face buried in you. his fingers are the first to break contact, but his lips are still there, taking every drop of your liquids.

ㅤㅤㅤ—e-enzo.

ㅤㅤㅤhe looks at you, letting the cold of his absence crash against your pussy.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what's the problem, darling? why do you have that face? —the mocking tone that colors his voice only sends thousands of exciting signals throughout your body—. i can't wait to be inside you.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo unbuttons his shirt, throwing it to the floor and unbuttoning his pants afterward. when he's half naked, you can make out the bulge pressed against his underwear, a bulge that he leaves free before your gaze, and he smiles satisfied by the expression on your face.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you're going to come ask me for more, i know it —he says. there's so little shame in his gaze that you can't believe what you were about to do—. this is all for you for tonight.

ㅤㅤㅤhe takes your legs, his hands burying themselves in your skin to put them on his shoulders. your back falls against the cold surface of the island.

ㅤㅤㅤ—why aren't you saying anything?

ㅤㅤㅤyou look away, knowing that you were a terrible liar and in a vulnerable state like this, you wouldn't be able to go unnoticed. you wanted him to bury himself in you, to find a space inside you and make you cum like he did a moment ago. lorenzo can't stand that you don't look at him and pulls your hair to force you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—come on, tell me.

ㅤㅤㅤhis brown gaze fixed on yours and his erect member pushing against your pussy don't let you think clearly.

ㅤㅤㅤ—lorenzo, please. i need you to do it.

ㅤㅤㅤa smile draws on his lips, pushing the tip of his cock against your entrance.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you need me to do what? —he whispers, slowly thrusting inside you—. so tight.

ㅤㅤㅤthe sensation starts to burn, hurt, and transform into a thousand other things in moments.

ㅤㅤㅤ—answer the fucking question.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i need you to make me come again, please. lorenzo, i need you.

ㅤㅤㅤwith one push, he finds himself balls deep inside you. your legs are on his shoulders, hugged by one of his arms, and his free hand covers your mouth as you let out a loud moan. the sensation filling every corner of your body so perfectly that it was exquisite.

ㅤㅤㅤ—shut your mouth, shit.

ㅤㅤㅤthat doesn't stop his movement, going in and out faster each time. lorenzo was just as eager as you to feel you. ha was watching your breasts bounce from the rhythm he's set, eyes filled with tears from the inability to moan like you want and hot air hitting his hand. he loved the sight so much that he could fuck you all night if he had the chance.

ㅤㅤㅤ—more? —he questions, still moving his hips.

ㅤㅤㅤyou look at him, his breasts as erratic as yours and his collar bouncing every time he hits you. the sound of your skin colliding is heard louder and louder on the walls of the kitchen.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i can feel you want more when you squeeze my cock.

ㅤㅤㅤyou nods, almost crying desperately.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo's back and forth starts to get messier but fast. the feeling of his cock burying itself deeper and deeper, drowning your moans each time and holding you were turning your head into a jumble of insane thoughts.

ㅤㅤㅤhe can notice how your body reacts, squeezing his cock more and more. then, letting go of your legs to fall on either side of his hip, he begins to massage your clit in quick circles. your back arches from the outbreak of all your desire about to explode again.

ㅤㅤㅤ—come on, precious, cum like you wanted.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo stretches over you, uncovering your mouth and kissing you in a messy movement. that had been enough to make you come in a scream that is muffled against his hot mouth. his member still inside you, his tongue now wandering around the inside of your mouth and his hand coming up to hold you cheek. there was so much charge in that kiss that the separation of his body against yours is surprising.

ㅤㅤㅤ—clean up this mess before my parents get here —he says, taking his clothes and putting on his pants.

ㅤㅤㅤsomehow, confused and weak, you try to clean up the mess until you realize that you just had sex with the older brother of the boy you were going to take care of for the rest of the long summer.

[sammylkcho]

I have a jealous human seb request 👉👈, The highschool au is pretty cool maybe something with that? Or whatever u think works :)))

  ༷  ㅤ !    ﹢High School AU - Jealous, jealous   ִ     ੭

Did I end up creating an AU without realizing it? Yes. Am I now obsessed with human Seb and Y/N in these kinds of scenarios? definitely

Hope you like it, my dear anon! Btw, for the fans of Epic the Musical, I was inspired by certain scenes in the song Little Wolf heheh

Warnings/Notes: escena de pelea, golpes, physical insecurities, me inspiré en human painter en el Painter de Streamer AU, using pronuns she/her with Y/N (sorry :c)

You allowed yourself to lift your head from the desk as the bell rang, signaling the start of the first recess. At that precise moment, all your classmates sprang from their seats and bolted out of the room like wild animals, desperate to escape the classroom for even a second.

You waited until at least half of them had left to avoid being pushed and squeezed between their bodies just to get out yourself. After all, your entire group of friends was absent today, so there wasn’t anyone you were particularly waiting for.

“Get up. I don’t want the cafeteria to run out of empanadas,” Sebastian said.

You lazily glanced over your shoulder and saw him standing there, hands tucked into his sweater pockets, his messy, wavy black hair as unruly as ever, and his blue eyes sparkling with that peculiar glimmer they always seemed to have.

It had only been a few weeks since you’d started talking to him—or rather, since he started talking to you. It had surprised you when he chose to pair up with you for a group project, especially since your friend didn’t protest or complain about not doing the assignment together as you two usually planned.

And it just happened—you didn’t even know how you ended up getting closer to him. Once again, you were amazed that your social anxiety hadn’t caused you to say something stupid as it often did in so many situations.

A quick snap of fingers broke your trance, making you blink and focus on the tanned fingers in front of you.

You smiled and apologized before standing up to walk alongside him, leaving the classroom to head toward the place Sebastian’s stomach most desired: the cafeteria.

“How are your siblings?” you asked, trying to start a conversation to distract yourself from the overwhelming noise around you.

“They’re fine, though… my sister’s been annoying lately, and I have to be her poor victim. So unfair!” Sebastian complained, frowning dramatically.

His exaggerated gestures made you laugh. You always enjoyed hearing how he made every situation with his siblings seem over the top. There was never a dull story about them.

Hearing your laugh, Sebastian glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. A flush of warmth rushed to his cheeks, and his palms began to feel sweaty. He quickly looked away, pulling a childish face. Loverboy.

“Hey, I’m gonna head to the bathroom for a moment. Don’t wait too long for me,” you said, stepping slightly away from his side.

He gave you a confused look for a moment before snapping out of it and flashing you a lazy smile, giving you a thumbs-up in approval.

“Just don’t take too long. I won’t promise to leave anything half-eaten,” he called out, raising his voice to make himself heard over the growing crowd of students in the courtyard.

You walked off with a small “uh-huh” in confirmation, heading straight for the bathrooms. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding it in until your bladder gave you a signal that if you didn’t go now, there’d be a bit of trouble.

It was no secret that the girls’ bathroom always had at least five people inside, most of them standing in front of the mirrors for at least ten minutes. Luckily, you only needed to take care of business and wash your hands before heading back out.

You recognized three girls from your class in there and two others who you guessed were a year or two ahead of you.

You’d always felt a bit uncomfortable around them, especially since some of them drooled over Sebastian and fit the classic “queen bee” stereotype. Honestly, you never liked them.

You entered the stall without any issues and finished up quickly before heading to the sinks to wash your hands.

Catching your reflection in the mirror, you felt a twinge of self-consciousness as you took in your appearance. You felt uncomfortable with yourself. How could you even show up to school looking like this? How could you stand next to him when—

You shook your head quickly, pushing those intrusive thoughts aside as you hurriedly left the bathroom. You’d gotten better; you didn’t need to dwell on those things—at least not as much.

Your eyes widened as you stepped outside and saw the courtyard completely packed. It was almost impossible to make out individuals in the sea of students.

You began weaving through the crowd, narrowly dodging a small paper ball some boys had decided to use as a makeshift soccer ball.

Your eyes scanned every corner of the courtyard near the tables, searching for one specific person. It was challenging, considering almost everyone had black hair. But no matter—you’d find your favorite Chilean.

Your gaze landed on a head of snow-white hair, and a smile crept onto your face as you spotted Vincent Painter in the crowd. You knew full well that where Vincent was, Sebastian was sure to be close by.

You pushed your way through, tuning out the rest of the world as you zeroed in on those two specific people.

“Painter, Seb—” The words died in your throat in an instant, the air abruptly leaving your lungs as you felt a sudden force. A hand clamped down firmly on your shoulder.

A chill ran through your body from head to toe as your heart began pounding faster and faster. You forced yourself to relax enough to turn and see who had grabbed you like that.

“Clay.”

The name seemed to slip instantly from your lips as you turned to see who it was.

It might sound cliché to say it this way, but it was the number one bully, troublemaker, and overall pain in the ass for both students and teachers alike. Always bothering people in the most unpleasant ways just to have something to do—including you.

You’d struggled to turn him into background noise back in sophomore year. Every time a teacher publicly scolded you for being late or some other "important" issue, he was always there to rub it in, mocking you for every mistake.

"Busy?" he asked with fake interest, his hand still firmly gripping your shoulder.

"A little, yes, maybe. Actually doing something worthwhile, unlike some," you muttered the last part under your breath, quickly and quietly, cursing yourself a thousand times over the moment you realized what you'd said.

His grip on your shoulder seemed to tighten and grow more forceful. You’d struck a nerve.

"Why don’t you come hang out with me and my group for the rest of the break? We’re not as boring as some," he said, maintaining that same hypocritical tone.

His hand slid down until it rested around your shoulders, as if you were lifelong friends. The gesture made your skin crawl with disgust. You wanted to shove him away, to curse him out in every way possible, to give him the slap he’d deserved for ages.

Your mind screamed yes to all of those thoughts, but your body froze, paralyzed with fear of what might happen if you so much as moved an inch while he had his arm around you.

Your legs felt like they were bolted to the ground, refusing to respond to the demands your brain was frantically making. Even though no one else could clearly see it in that moment, it was humiliating.

"No, I’m busy—"

"Someone like you is never busy."

"SHIT, NO!" you yelled with all your strength. Before he could react, you jerked your shoulders forcefully, a sharp motion that broke his grip. You freed yourself and stepped back, your body trembling with pure adrenaline.

You exhaled all the air you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in, gasping desperately for the oxygen you’d been depriving yourself of. The suffocating feeling still lingered, especially after your outburst and the scene you’d unintentionally created in front of the other students.

The noisy schoolyard, which had been alive with chatter and laughter just moments ago, fell deathly silent at your shout. Those closest to you and Clay stood frozen, watching in stunned silence to see how the situation would unfold. Further back, murmurs started among the students, curious and uncertain about what had caused the commotion.

You looked at Clay, trembling, noticing how his muscles tensed and his eyes stayed locked on you, unyielding. Neither of you said anything, locked in a tense standoff, like a predator trying not to scare off its prey.

Time seemed to stop for a moment, the only sound being your heavy, shaky breaths if someone were to listen closely enough.

Then, you clearly saw his right hand—the same one that had been draped over your shoulders—rise aggressively toward you, giving you no time to react or process what was about to happen.

The blow landed hard and fast, a lightning strike of pain erupting like a volcano in your cheek and spreading through your entire head. Your vision blurred for a moment, a dull ringing filling your ears as the world around you tilted unsteadily.

You lost your balance, stumbling to the side. Your hands instinctively reached for the ground, but the force of the impact left your arms trembling under your weight. Your skin burned where his hand had struck, a searing sensation that seemed to etch the violence into your body.

"Stop acting like a wild animal toward me! You’re that guitarist’s lapdog, so act like it—"

His words were abruptly cut off when something struck him out of nowhere, silencing him mid-sentence.

You didn’t take the moment to lift your head and see what had happened; your mind was still struggling to process the words he’d just yelled at you.

“Who the hell threw a damn empanada at me?!” he roared, utterly agitated, his fury palpable from miles away.

“Who taught you to hit a woman like that?!”

A new voice broke into the scene, one you recognized instantly.

You wanted to lift your head, even just a little, but the wave of dizziness and trembling that overtook you made it almost impossible to move.

“Shh... Come on, get up slowly and carefully. Let me help you. That bruise looks nasty,” another voice said softly, this one closer to you.

They helped you up, letting you lean on them for support as you steadied yourself, focusing on placing one foot in front of the other. Squinting, you tried to make out who it was, though you already knew.

“Painter… Seb’s—” you murmured weakly, trying to get him to stop the sudden impulsiveness of the other man.

“I know. That idiot’s trying to act tough,” Painter cut you off, rolling his eyes at the unfolding situation.

“You want to put on a show for the whole school? Fine, Solace! Let’s see how you handle this!”

Clay’s voice sent a shiver down your spine as you watched the scene play out in front of you.

Clay was advancing, his steps slow but deliberate. Sebastian instinctively stepped back, trying to keep some distance, his eyes locked on Clay’s movements, searching for any clue of his intentions.

But the gap between them was closing rapidly, the circle of onlookers around them seeming to shrink with every passing moment. Each step back was a concession, and each step forward from Clay was a reminder of who was in control.

“DON’T BE A COWARD!”

That shout rang out like the toll of a bell, marking the inevitable start of what was about to happen.

Clay lunged forward, his fist raised, ready to land a solid blow. As he closed the last few inches between them, he swung with brutal force, grabbing Sebastian roughly and shoving him back. The shove was so forceful it left Sebastian struggling to regain his balance.

Sebastian didn’t waste a second to catch his breath. He recovered immediately, ignoring his body’s cries for rest; there was no time for that now.

“Uppercut him. NOW” Painter shouted, almost as agitated as Sebastian himself at the sight of his friend fighting.

Without hesitation, Sebastian followed Painter’s instruction.

His fist shot upward with calculated precision, aiming for his attacker.

The sound of the impact was the only thing that could be heard in the courtyard—a crack that left more than a few eyes wide at the sheer violence of the scene. Clay’s jaw snapped upward with the force of the punch, sending him stumbling back, reeling from the sudden blow.

Clay forced his gaze back toward Sebastian, his face twisted into a deranged grin full of rage.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the furious voice of a new arrival shattered the overwhelming silence of the courtyard.

“Solace and Torres! I want both of you in my office NOW!” bellowed the principal, his uncontrolled fury directed at the two named offenders.

. . . . . . . . . .

“That was stupid.”

Silence.

“Impulsive. Way too impulsive.”

Silence.

“Something you’d never do. Especially getting involved in something like this.”

Silence.

“Did I mention how much of an idiot you were?” You tightened the bandage around his palm.

“Ow!” he hissed, wincing at the sting from your touch.

You shot him a glare, still struggling to understand why his foolish mind had decided to intervene and start a fight—especially one that escalated so violently.

He avoided your eyes, turning his head to the side, causing strands of his dark hair to fall across his forehead like a curtain, partially obscuring his vision.

You let out an audible sigh, one that sounded more like an exasperated groan than anything else.

Your hand was still holding Sebastian’s as you finished wrapping the bandage. Even though his palm had small, raw scrapes, his touch was warm and comforting. A part of you didn’t want to pull away.

“I just… I felt awful seeing him hit you, and I couldn’t do anything. You didn’t deserve that—especially not from a guy like him!” he muttered, pressing his other palm against his cheek in frustration.

He looked endearing like this, grumbling while trying to explain why he’d felt the need to protect you from someone like that.

“Don’t worry about it anymore, okay? I’m fine, and so are you,” you reassured him, offering a soft smile.

A faint hum, something like an “mmh,” escaped his lips.

You laughed a little more at his antics, catching a brief glimpse of crimson red coloring his cheeks. How cute.

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

@ratadediamante tagged me in this, soo…..

Head canons of our favourite ship’s morning routine: married edition✨

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• lyra’s and grayson’s jobs start at different times, with graysons starting earlier and lyras starting later, but grayson always makes sure to kiss her every morning before he leaves, and even make her breakfast if he has the time. sometimes, he’ll even take photos of her if she looks especially cute while sleeping :))

• but some days, lyra insists at waking up at the same time as grayson. the first time, she figured that it will be a cute, bonding time between her and her husband. she was wrong.

• grayson woke lyra up at 5:00 in the morning, and she grumbled while getting dressed, grumbled while brushing her teeth, and grumbled while doing her makeup. grayson secretly recorded the parts where she was turned away from him, and it was hilarious how mad she looked. eventually, grayson decided that he would wake up at 6 instead of 5, and now the couple wakes up together most days.

• these more present days, lyra is first to wake up, as her husband is a more deep sleeper, and wakes him up with kisses all over his face. grayson never told anyone this and never will, but some days he wakes up before the alarm he sets, yet he pretends to be asleep so that he can be “woken up” by lyras kisses. 🤭🤭

• despite lyras enthusiastic way of waking grayson up, she always insists on the two of them staying in bed for longer, to which grayson spends the next 5 minutes convincing her to get up. some days, if she gets too tired, he quite literally has to carry her out of bed. sometimes lyra feels too lazy to walk, so she argues with him on purpose, just so he can carry her into their walk in closet and she can get dressed. 😭☠️

• not every day, but some days, grayson will go for a quick morning swim, and lyra likes to tag along sometimes. she usually just ends up dipping her feet in the pool while sitting in silence, (bc she believes its therapeutic 😭😭) but other times she’ll read a book, or just tell her husband to swim closer so that she can chat with him.

• when they’re FINALLY in their walk in closet getting ready for the day, (bc i know they have one for their mass amounts of clothing) they always require opinions from each other on what to wear. lyra always has doubts on which top matches her skirt/pants the best, and grayson loves having her opinion on which suit style/colour would be the best for that day. sometimes lyra talks him out of wearing his suit jacket if it’s hot that day, and once she even convinced him to wear a nice t shirt and pants to the office for work. let’s just say, history was made that day.

• grayson never has too much time to get ready in the morning because his job starts earlier, but lyra always makes sure to play music while they brush their teeth/do their morning routines in the bathroom. she’s been doing it ever since they moved out, and every day they play different playlists. one playlist is adhered more to lyras taste, and the other is more of graysons kind of music.

• for MONTHS after they got married, lyra would spend most of her time getting ready in the bathroom just staring at her ring, and grayson has caught her doing it so many times. he finds it so cute and is so glad that she liked her ring (and her marriage 😏) so much. once her facial cream kept getting stuck in the cracks of her ring, so she took it off just to rub it on her skin. but the mournful look she was giving her ring on the counter made grayson believe for a moment that an eagle would swoop in from the bathroom window and snatch it away right before her eyes. he teased her about it, and she didn’t even care. her ring was pure treasure to her, and everyone knew it.

• once they’re out of the bathroom and lyra is all done with her makeup, the two are headed straight to the kitchen. normally grayson would head out with a coffee and not a second thought about getting a good meal, but after marriage, things change. and he had gotten so many talks from lyra and her mother about how breakfast was the most important meal of the day, that’s he’s finally given in and makes it a priority every morning. lyra herself didn’t even prioritize it, but after finally deciding that she was done with her extra grogginess in the morning, she made it a habit to always make grayson and her eat breakfast together. neither of them are skilled cooks, but lyra is amazing at making breakfast foods that her mom/stepdad used to make for her all the time, and grayson loves them + how happy she is while cooking them.

• other times though, they’ll be too lazy to cook breakfast, or just want something nicer, and just drive out to a diner instead. they have one near their house + both their workplaces that they really like, so they go there every time. they both find the place so peaceful and beautiful, and sometimes, if they’re both too tired or upset or however they may feel in the morning to talk, they sit on the same side of the booth and lyra lays her head on graysons shoulder. they know that they love each other so much, and sometimes, they just want to love each other in silence.

• after breakfast, grayson drives her to her place of work, and they make conversation along the way. gossip they heard from people they know, their dreams of the future, or even something that hasn’t been able to leave their mind. lyra usually is the one talking graysons ear off on the way to work, as after all her grumbling and groaning in the morning she suddenly feels productive on the car ride there, and grayson just listens with a smile. there’s nothing that he wouldn’t listen to as long as it came out of his wife’s mouth.

• when grayson drops her off, he gives her a lunch that he packed her in the morning, or that she packed for herself the night before. but, on days where lyra forgot to pack her lunch and grayson “forgot” to pack his too, he promises to pick her up for lunch to take her out. he then, for those days that he gets to see her for lunch, leaves with a smile, knowing that he has one more good thing to look forward to in his day.

EXTRA: married lyragrayson morning routine after a (very rare) bad fight :(( (this one is more of a rare situation as they don’t really ever get into bad fights, so that’s why the writing looks more like a fic than headcanons (bc i didn’t wanna say “usually” they do this or “typically” they do that as it’s uncommon for them to be fighting in the first place LOL))

• lyra wakes up on her bed, feeling cold and dull and wondering why, before turning around and realizing he wasn’t behind her. lyra is confused, but only for a moment, before her fatigue-riddled mind finally remembers that she sent him off to sleep on the couch last night. a numb feeling overtook her, and she got the sick sensation in her throat that she was going to start crying. except lyra wasn’t going to start crying, because she’d spent all last night sobbing into her pillow anyway.

• getting up, she kicked her feet off the side of her bed, her tired brain trying to process what to do next. where was grayson? what does a wife do after her first big fight with her husband? maybe people were right about the honeymoon phase, and all that was good before was gone. she looked at the ring in her hand, and after minutes of numb eyes staring, took it off. it was only for a moment, but the look of her empty ring finger and it sitting discarded on her bedside table made her feel guilty enough to put it back on.

• finally getting up, lyra decides that what’s done is done and she has to get started with her day. surprising to no one, she has a pounding head ache from all the crying she had been doing the night before. lyra walks into her closet and puts on a pair of clothes, the pair that had been rotting in the back of her closet because they’re as dull as lyra feels. perfect.

• walking over to her bathroom, lyra slides open the sliding door, and sees him. the suit he was wearing enunciated his muscles, and lyra hated that she couldn’t tear his eyes away from his broad shoulders and biceps. once she snaps out of it, she immediately backs away when she sees grayson getting ready, but he turns around, calling her name. still, she’s walking away when she feels two hands wrap around her waist and spin her around. grayson is again face to face with her.

• he immediately apologizes for his actions, having more patience and less pettiness than lyra, and explains them. but lyra still has a bad taste in her mouth from the fight. she refuses to meet his gaze, scoffing at his words. unfortunately, she forgot that grayson could also be rather stubborn. every time she cast her gaze else where, he would always gently take hold of the top of her neck with his fingers on her jaw and move her head to look at him again. of course, lyra did feel bad, but a part of her knew that the fight mainly wasn’t her fault. it was one of graysons problems that started it.

• once he’s done his apology speech, lyra just walks past him and into the bathroom, eager to just get ready and get this over with. unfortunately, grayson wasn’t going to stop trying that quickly. he followed her everywhere: the bathroom, the vanity, the kitchen, always at least a foot behind her as she walked. and lyra was done. she whipped her head around and demanded him to explain to her the point of the fight last night. grayson replied gently, but she could see that she was testing his patience. lyra mulled on his answer before stomping off to the kitchen, and opening her fridge door. pulling enough food for two out, she started cooking. after making 4 french toasts with sausages on the side, she puts it on two plates and puts them both on the island by the two chairs they had there. grayson, however, was making coffee, and when he placed lyras cup by her plate, she tasted it and immediately scowled. it was annoyingly just how she liked it.

• grayson and her ate in silence, but after graysons stares were becoming excruciating, she turned to him with a stone cold look on his face.

• “what?” she asked, bluntly.

• “did you not sleep well last night?” he asked her.

• she scoffed. “no, i was too busy crying to get any sleeping done.”

• she hates that she knew her husband so well in this moment, because when she said it, she knew exactly how he would react. which, for all of lyras fake bluntness, was what she wanted. with his eyes softening at lyras reply, grayson immediately stood up, picking lyra up from her chair and pulling her into an embrace. she couldn’t act harshly to her husband anymore. not after he set her feet back down on the ground and stroked her hair, murmuring apologies and “i love you”’s. he covered the crown of her head with soft kisses, and when lyra turned her head up to look at him with gentle eyes, he covered her face in kisses too, getting a laugh out of lyra as she whacked his arm in protest.

• the rest of the day goes smoothly, as when arguments do happen between the couple, they end before the two can leave the house. grayson puts hers and his coffee in a two go cup when they see the time, and leave the house holding hands. grayson drives, and although it takes them a minute, conversation is already starting up again. grayson leaves one of his hands out, and lyra, absentmindedly, starts tracing the lines of his hand while talking. grayson smiles at the fact that she didn’t even really notice she was doing it.

• once he drops lyra off in front of her workplace, he gets out of the car to open the door for lyra. after lyra gets out of the car, grayson immediately traps her in a passionate kiss, only stopping once lyra murmurs against his lips that she’s going to be late. he separates from her lips and strokes her dark hair as he did earlier, whispering to her how beautiful she is and how lucky he is to have a wife as special as her. lyra blushes, and begins to whisper a multitude of apologies about the fight back to him, but he just kisses her to stop her. he knows that she actually is going to be late if he keeps holding on to her, so he lets go of her waist and gives her a quick goodbye peck. lyra returns it and walks off, her head ache gone along with each and every single one of her worries.

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ummmm these ended up being so much longer than i thought they would, but OMG i just loved writing lyrason as a married couple so much!!! it just healed something in me calling them husband and wife, and i honestly need them to get married STAT bc i love them both too much 😭💗💗

[desiredlvr]

𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 - ℬ.ℰ

smut / 𝙨𝙚𝙢𝙞 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

‘𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙞 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚 ?’

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you and billie have a friends with benefit relationship. but it always bothered when billie would see other girls while claiming to be all yours.

billie was supposed to meet you at your house 20 mins ago, but she didn’t show up. you grew annoyed as she had basically stood you up. you texted her to see when she was coming, and still nothing.

40 mins had passed by, and billie finally shows up and knocks on the door. you stood up and put your tiny candy cane pajama shorts on. you made your way to the door when you opened it, you looked billie in the face, and she seemed so out of it.

“are you fucking serious?” you say to billie clearly annoyed.

“what?” billie says while keeping a straight face. “you were supposed to be here a long time ago. where the fuck where you?” you say. “calm down mama, i was just at a party, and i didn’t notice the time. can i come in?” billie asks as she tries to reach for your waist. you push billie’s hand down and moved out of the doorway for her to enter.

you kept silent as you closed the door and she sat on the couch. there was a silence that was so disturbing that you could hear a pin drop. “are you really that mad at me, baby?” billie says while leaning back into the couch. you stayed silent as you sat down next to her. you were annoyed, and you wanted to let her know that. she loved when you were bratty, and it provoked her.

“so you were fucking other girls, huh? is that why you took so fucking long?” you said in anger. billie just stared at you and said “oh come on mama, are you seriously asking me that? what are you jealous?” that infuriated you as you weren’t hers entirely. but it still mattered anyway. “you’re such a bitch” you said, rolling your eyes.

“oh yea?” billie says as she reaches for your thigh and starts to rub her hand up and down your inner thigh. “you wanna show me how much of a bitch i am?” she says while biting her lip. you whimpered quietly and stared into her eyes.

she looked at your lips as if she was trying to jump on top of you and kiss you. she grabbed your hips and sat your down on her lap and kissed you immediately; you kissed her back with force. her hands gripping your ass and rocking your hips back and forth. you felt something sticking out inside of her jeans, which had to have been the strap she usually wears.

“bils,” you whimper out. “yes, mama?” she says while staring at your face as your face scrunches up while whimpering. “i need you, ” you whisper. “what was that, baby?” she says. you kept whimpering as she kept rocking your hips against her jeans.

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hi lovies, this is like my first post. but this is a half story to see if i like this. what do you guys think?

[julzrulz]

Midoriya learns urinal etiquette

˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

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NSFW WARNING 18+

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LMAOOOO IVE BEEN GONE FOR 3 YEARS missed yall<33

Shessss backkkkkkkkk -sexy red

Anyway how is everyone? How’s tumblr doing? we still give af abt mha smut?

I hope y’all do bc I’m coming back to all my drafts and I had some good stuff!! this one’s kinda funnn! Lmk how we feel abt it ofc apologies for any spelling and grammar errors she’s rusty as hell

Male bodied reader!! I asked for a dick for Christmas and didn’t get one sad face emoji

Anyway, following deku to the bathroom and giving him a “hand” at the urinal oops

Rating: R (Restricted, 18 and Up permitted, sexual content)

Pairings: Sub! Deku x Dom! Masc! Reader

CW: Smut, handjob (character recieveing), lowkey piss (?) sorry not sorry, publicish, kinda pushy reader but deku likes it, pet names, no aftercare, humiliation

Notes: Gender neutral pronouns, male bodied reader, characters aged up to 3rd years 18+

You and izuku have been hooking up for quite a while now and of course his only ask from you when you guys started this whole thing was to not tell anyone. Bummer. You would love nothing more than for the entire school to see just what you do to the popular, shy, but strong third year.

The way you can make him come so undone beneath you, how much of a whimpering mess he can be. It’s quite beautiful really. He’s not so shy when he’s with you, if he was you wouldn’t have discovered just how flexible this boy was— you’re thoughts are broken when Aizawa finally shuts off that stupid hero documentary that was playing for the last hour. It supposedly was very important but you’ve been staring at a particular greenette the entire time.

He must’ve been the biggest fan of the doc Aizawa played, in fact, he was probably the only one who paid attention. You couldn’t stop watching how his feet were bouncing underneath his desk— cute, was he doing that because he was excited from the documentary? Usually you’re the only one able to get him that excited. No… he’s also hunched over and alittle squirmy? You can see how he’s grabbing at the desk too… weird what’s he thinking right now?.

Izuku’s hand shoots straight up as soon as there’s a break in Aizawa’s recap about the film we just watched. Aizawa, in the most mono tone voice “Yes Midoryia?”

Izuku quickly asks if he can use the bathroom. Oh you get it now he must’ve been holding it the entire doc to be so desperate. It’s almost—hot.

Of course izuku is still the only person who raises his hand for this kind of thing. Aizawa has made it pretty clear as third years we can just leave to go relieve ourselves.

With a sigh and reminder that he doesn’t need to hear about it, Aizawa dismisses izuku.

You don’t normally follow izuku to the bathroom, infact you never have before. But maybe all the day dreaming you were doing during the documentary has made you quite excited. And maybe there’s a little less blood in ur head. And maybe now the room is too hot and your pants are too tight. Before you know it you’re out of ur chair and in the hallway walking to the direction of the nearest bathroom.

When you walk in you can see izuku standing at one of the urinal stalls with his back towards you. After a bit of shuffling from izuku you start to hear the sound of trickling liquid on porcelain. With a slight sigh he throws his head back— obviously quite pleased with his release. Those two movements are very familiar to you… but normally caused by a very different type of release.

One quick scan of the bathroom being dead empty and you’re walking up to izuku. The back of his head hits your chest and you instinctively grab his waist and pull it towards you.

“What the-mHUH?” Izuku tenses and looks all the way up to see your face peering down at him. His face is red and he shuffles slightly obviously to try and cover himself, however with his dick in his hands and the stream of piss still steady— it’s not working out for him.

“Hey” you say with a smirk, it’s funny really he’s such a strong and talented hero but he’s so small underneath you.

“I—I I’m kinda busy y/n” he says voice quiet and wavering. He sounds unsure, confused, and very very very flustered.

“Relax would you… nothing I haven’t seen before” you’re lying, kinda, you’ve very much seen every inch of him but definitely not pissing. You can feel the humiliation radiating off of him while he squirms in ur grasp. You bury you nose in his hair, intoxicating his sent. God you love that smell, your breaths become deeper and you pull his hips so his ass backs up into you.

You hear a quiet whine escape him and you let out quite the huff. He already knows you’re as stiff as a rock, for *some* reason you always are around him. But he’s definitely confused how him being at a urinal is helping this any.

You slowly grind against his ass, there are many of layers of fabric in between you too but that doesn’t seem to faze you much.

“R-really you couldn’t wait untill later… what’s coming over y-you?” He’s a stuttering babbling mess, still shuffling in place and swapping glances between you, his dick sitting heavy in his hands and the bathroom door. He’s nervous about being so public— this is definitely a strange view, he wouldn’t be able to explain it away at all. And embarrassed is an understatement, this shy green haired boy definitely never wanted to see the day he’s watched so intensely while pissing and to make it worse he can’t seem to stop. He had to go so so bad.

He couldn’t be more humiliated while ur eyes seemed to be locked on him relieving himself. Your dick is twitching in your pants seeing how humiliated the boy is, face red and eyes wet and beaty.

His whirthing and whining comes to a screeching hault and he lets out a sharp gasp when your hand slowly warps around his.

“Y/n whyyy— p-please not now” izuku whines under his breath, eyes darting to the bathroom door. His dick is hot and firm from the strength of his stream. This you can confidently say you’ve never done before.

There’s no one there, you know there will be no one there, it’s the middle of class and around this stressful time of year people who have any sense stay in their seat.

After what seems like an eternity his stream starts to trickle to a stop. Both of your breaths are heavy and you can tell izuku is trying very hard to distract himself from your hand wrapped around his. That and the grinding you’re doing from behind.

“Okay w-we can go now” He’s quick to try to let go but you react by griping him tighter.

“-ngh” it’s hard to keep his mind off anything now with the grip you have on him. You can feel his legs get weak. With a particular hard thrust from you he stumbles forward, using both his hands to grip to the sides of the urinal to stop him from falling anymore forward. With one of your hands still tight on the hip the other starts to make teasing touches at his growing erection.

You give him a little squeeze and a drop of urine leaks out from his slit. You’re quick to use that little moisture while you slowly start to fist his length. It’s not perfect but you know it won’t be long until he leaks enough pre to replace it.

“Ugh- f-ffuck y/n” the boy whimpers hands still glued at opposite ends of the urinal. His slightly bent over position isn’t helping him any if he wants to stop, your rock hard length still grinding against his clothed ass.

“Y/n I wanna go back to class please” his voice is wavering it’s so cute he’s trying so hard to be quiet. “W-what if someon-nnghh walks in”

“Shhh izuku relax baby” you plant open mouthed kisses all over the back of his neck, your grinding not stopping for a second and neither is your pumping. The pet name makes his face red. You speed up the pace and it pulls a loud gasp from izuku.

“Ff-fughh mmhf” your pace is ruthless and the poor boy is practically shaking underneath you. The hand on his hip reaches up and pulls hard on his hair throwing his head back. His mouth is hung open pouring out all sorts of desperate noises. Your mouth finally leaves his neck and you lick a stripe up to his ear.

“Yea, you like that don’t you?” your deep raspy voice whispers in his ear in between grunts.

“Hhgff” is all izuku makes out. You give him a squeeze and he squeaks in response.

“Use your words” your breath is hot on izukus neck and it’s almost dizzying to the boy beneath you.

“Y-yes yes I like it nghh” izuku is almost drooling, your pace is ruthless, hand wet and sticky from his precum. You’re boxing him into the little stall, so big around him that no one would even notice he was here if they did walk in.

“And you wanted to go back to class… pft— you’re so easy izuku” you taunt. Izuku’s eyes close head still thrown back looking up at you. Sweat starts to form on the boys forehead. You let go of his green locs and slip ur arm underneath his UA uniform shirt.

“I bet you would’ve just let anyone come up behind you huh?” Your fingers trace up his torso until you meet his small hard nipples, pinching and playing with them between your fingers. He whines at both your comment and action. You’re special to him, you know that. There’s no way no one is as close to this boy as you are even if no body but the two of you know it.

He’s practically mewling now, desperate moans, gasps, and whines progressively getting louder filling this empty bathroom. You’re so good to him. So rough at just the right times. You’ve mastered his body and know exactly how to play within his limits.

“Y/n— nghh I- you feel so good oh god” Izuku’s head falls forward leaning against the cold bathroom tiled wall. His grip never wavering from the sides of the urinal below him fearing his knees might give out.

“You gonna cum baby? Huh? Aren’t you supposed to be in class… Tsk tsk” you can help your teasing “Aizawa is probably so confused where such a good student has been for the last 10 minutes” izuku responds with a drawn out whine… he loves when you call him that.

“I- oh oh shit y/n— nghhhh mph I’m-” with a long and loud drawn out moan Izuku’s whole body shakes and convulses.

Izuku cums and cums hard splurting all over the porcelain urinal beneath him. You’re careful to angle his dick towards it to not leave any evidence on his clothing.

His dick twitches sporadically as you continue to pump his length, god he’s cumming so much. You ring a few careful circles around his nipple before releasing it and tracing your hand back down to his hip. Pumping the last of Izuku’s cum from his abused dick you let go of him.

Izuku lets out a sharp inhale when your hand leaves him, only for it to be silenced when you bring your hand towards his mouth. He knows what that means, you’ve trained him well and he’s so good for you.

He starts to slowly lick at your hand and fingers cleaning it as good as he can.

You look down at your own length straining against your pants against Izuku’s clothed behind. With a small grind of your hips you let out a strained grunt.

“Y-y/n?” You can hear the nervousness in his voice you know what he’s thinking, are you sure more?… No, not now, you both have already been here long enough.

“Just wait until tonight” you say with a huff and a sly tone to your voice. You’re gonna ruin him for riling you up. Removing your hands and taking a step back from the smaller boy. With a swift spank on his ass you turn and walk out of the bathroom. Izuku gasps with the force of your hand and whimpers at the loss of your warmth, still coming down from his high.

A quick fix of your stiff manhood makes your raging boner less obvious as you walk back to class. Leaving a sweaty and spent izuku huffing and puffing in the urinal stall, feeling so blissed out and used.

*flush <3*

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐲!

( ˘ ³˘)♥

[princesspenguin-1]

Illumi as Father 2

The morning promised to be interesting as usual. Illumi was whispering something with his mother Kikyo standing in the garden, either discussing plans or simply exchanging pleasantries.

She left, leaving the eldest Zoldyck alone. He turned around, looking around the area and noticed the absence of his children on the playground nearby. This was new in recent days.

Being a father to little bastards, future Assassins, turned out to be quite difficult. It was at these moments that Illumi's brain wondered if Silva had something like this?

Illumi walked around the playground, looked under the children's slide, carefully examined the nearby trees and grass. Recent stalking lessons turned out to have borne fruit. Apparently, the twins liked this or they played this way.

Suddenly, he came across two small mounds on the ground. They were clearly not there..

The head tilted to the side, the hand deftly closed in the wet soil and feeling something, Illumi took out his hand, the top of black hair appeared from the hole and moved. The boy raised his head with curiosity, looking at his father with his dark eyes. In another, another top appeared from the ground a little, the eyes opened, watching what was happening.

"Is this really his blood?", Illumi wondered.

Illumi narrowed his dark eyes in irritation as he looked down the mountain at the endless treetops. He crossed his arms over his chest and the girl standing next to him flinched at his sudden action, she closed her eyes, thanking the higher powers that she was still alive.

"You disappointed me." Illumi suddenly said, adjusting his black hair with a swing to the side.

"S-sorry, sir... I... I don't know how this happened..." Her voice trembled and she clutched the hem of her skirt in her palms.

Illumi turned his gaze to her, his expression of irritation gone, leaving behind a face with an empty gaze that was even more frightening and made her body go into a daze.

"You failed to fulfill your duties. I will appoint another nanny in your place."

"Huh?..." She wanted to say something, but realized that there was no point in it and it was better to just agree. "Yes, as you say..."

Illumi moved forward leaving the favor behind. He walked along the ground at his moderate pace, the road led straight down the mountain. His senses were heightened, catching all the sounds and movements around him. His eyes, like a predator, instantly paid attention to the movement of birds on the branches, squirrels or large animals running past.

The area was wild but so recognizable and familiar. The road almost ended, the famous "test gate" of the Zoldyck family was already visible not far away.

Mike was guarding the entrance. He was resting lying on the ground and occasionally wagging his tail. Illumi's hand lay on his fur, as if testing his trust, the animal's large head turned and their eyes met.

"You know where they are, right? Find them." the meaning of the words was clear.

Mike rose from his place and his massive paws walked. His body was hidden from view for a second behind the greenery, but just as quickly appeared.

He had a boy in his mouth, his legs dangling in the air. The dog put him down and disappeared into the forest again, this time carrying the second prankster. The children were found.

(in the next post I would like to tell you about the twin, I already have about what type of Nen owner they would be)

[justrainandcoffee]

Target (Luca Changretta x fem!oc)

I still don't know if this is going to be a complete fic, but for now here you have this. I started to write it last week, I planned to post it before Christmas but I couldn't.

Tina belongs to @call-sign-shark . Detective!Luca is mine same as his cats.

Warnings: Mentions of killing. Tommy is the victim. Modern AU.

"You are the best", the man in front of him looked nervous, gazing the tabby cat that was sitting on the detective's desk.

"That's what people say," Luca murmured keeping his straight face. "Do you have any problems with my cat, Mr. Shelby?"

"I don't like cats," the man named Arthur answered.

"My cats don't like you either. Minerva here," Luca said pointing at the aforementioned tabby cat "always let me know who is trustworthy and who's not. And guess what, Mr. Shelby, I don't trust you."

"It's not about trustworthy. It's about help. 'M not here to be your fucking friend, Mr. Changretta. I need you to investigate who killed my brother two years ago, because the fuckin' cops didn't do anything."

"I'm not surprised at all. So," Luca said looking at the file in his computer, "Thomas Michael Shelby. 35 years old, widower. Horses, mmh? He did a fucking fortune thanks to the races. So? Someone wanted to steal his stallion? Maybe business went bad? Did he have any enemies?"

"You're asking me the same questions the cops asked! I want solutions!"

"I can't help if I don't know who he was, Mr. Shelby. Any lovers? Women? Men? Both?"

"Many women. But mostly one night stand. Nothing serious since his wife died... Also was killed."

"What a tragedy," Luca said not showing any feelings. "Did they catch her killer?"

"Yeah. They did. He worked alone, he's in lifetime prison."

"No one works alone, I'll investigate that crime, too. Did you bring the money? Cash."

Arthur Shelby nodded, still nervous, but gave him the bills. Detective Changretta took his time to count it and then put it in an electronic safe. "I'll let you know what I got once I know anything. And I'll need your permission to go to your residence."

"Of course you can."

Luca just nodded and after staring at Arthur, this one opted for finally leave the dark office.

"Guess is time for you to eat the finest meat, Minnie," he said to Minerva who was looking at him after Arthur Shelby left. "And your babies, too."

Crimes were pretty common around the world and England wasn't the exception. Even more when money was part of the deal. Love and money were always the two main reasons for killing someone. He didn't know Thomas Shelby and his life apart from what his brother told him but he was willing to investigate. Rich people were always interested to spy.

Luca was in the market. His mind was racing around his new case when a young voice brought him back to reality.

"Sir? Are you okay?"

Luca blinked twice and looked at the young woman next to him. Slim, dark haired, with a captivated smile. But not much as her eyes. Luca couldn't determine at first sight if she was wearing contact glasses or if her heterochromia was natural but her yellow eye caught his attention.

"Yes. I'm okay, thanks."

"I'm sorry, it just seemed you looked a bit lost."

"Thinking about work. As usual... But it's fine. Looking for some meat."

"Oh! You should try the Cacciatore. People say they the best meat around here. Ideal for busy men who want to relax a bit after work," the girl said winking his yellow eye. "Give it a try, sir."

Strange people weren't uncommon for him, but there was something unique about the beautiful girl next to him.

"I will."

"Don't forget to thank me when you try it tonight, sir," she said with a final smile after leaving the aisle and he couldn't help but smile as well.

But what Luca thought after she turned around and left, was that the mysterious young woman had a sight that could kill.

[eizagcnzalez]

Eiza’s brows shot up the moment Anne mentioned she had to go, the words catching her completely off guard. For a brief second, her expression faltered, her brow furrowing slightly as she processed what Anne had said. The room that had moments ago felt so warm and intimate now carried an unspoken weight. She remained silent for just a heartbeat too long, her lips parting as if to say something, but hesitation stopped her. Maybe it had been bold to assume Anne would stay, but the truth was, she didn’t want her to leave—not yet. She quickly caught herself, her natural confidence rushing back in like a shield, though a faint flicker of vulnerability lingered in her eyes. A smile tugged at her lips as she sat up, adjusting the disheveled sheets around her. “So soon?” she asked, her voice warm but tinged with a softness that hinted at her unspoken reluctance. “Um, okay, yeah. Of course.” She cleared her throat lightly, as if trying to brush away the moment of awkwardness. “I mean, you have things to do, I get it.” Eiza leaned back slightly against the headboard, her smirk returning, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes just yet. “But just so you know,” she added, her tone dipping into that familiar sultry edge, “I would absolutely want to repeat this. And yes, sooner rather than later, if that’s an option.” Her dark eyes found Anne’s, holding her gaze with an intensity that made her words feel like more than just flirtation. Reaching out, Eiza let her fingers brush against Anne’s hand, the gesture small but intimate. “I’m holding you to that,” she said, her smirk softening as her voice dropped into something more genuine. “Because if you think I’m going to forget tonight, you’re out of your mind. You’ve officially ruined me for anything less.” She shifted closer, her hand reaching up to tuck a strand of Anne’s hair behind her ear. Her touch lingered, her thumb lightly grazing Anne’s cheek. “You’re kind of impossible to get over,” Eiza admitted, her tone quiet, her usual confidence giving way to an unexpected tenderness. “But hey, no pressure or anything.” She chuckled softly, the sound warm and low, before leaning in to kiss Anne again. This kiss was slower, deeper, unhurried—as if Eiza were savoring every second, every taste, trying to capture the moment in her memory forever. When she pulled back, her brows arched slightly, her teasing smile returning. “But before you go, promise me one thing,” she murmured, her fingers still lightly tracing patterns along the back of Anne’s hand. “Next time, we skip the margaritas and go straight to the best part.” Her chuckle was light, playful, filling the space between them, but her eyes betrayed a deeper longing. She let out a soft sigh, pulling Anne closer for one last lingering kiss, as though she could hold onto the moment just a little longer. When she finally let go, her dark eyes searched Anne’s face, her voice dipping again into that quiet, honest place. “I can't wait to repeat this” Eiza said softly, her fingers brushing over Anne’s cheek one final time before letting her go.

The connection when their eyes met was electric; Anne could see the raw desire in Eiza's gaze and in her words as Eiza's moans continued, she knew she was making a good job, and she was sure that Eiza was close. The tension in Eiza's body, the way she tensed and then released, was a dance Anne had learned to lead. Eiza's climax was beautiful to see, the sight of her body convulsing, her voice crying out Anne's name in ecstasy, was the most erotic thing. When the younger woman finally relaxed, and collapsed onto the bed, Anne moved up, her heart swelling with affection. The kiss they shared was deep, full of hunger. This is crazy... the craziest thing I've ever done but god! also the greatest thing" anne said after had caught her breathe still holding into eiza closely and planting soft kisses against her chin and jaw gently while the younger woman whispered sweet things making her feel in the glory, "mmmh" she hummed in satisfaction and smiled with her eyes closed as she enjoyed every sensation and their closeness, the quiet after the storm of passion.

the only sounds being the quiet, synchronized breathing of Eiza and Anne. The sheets disheveled from their earlier fervor, now cradled their entwined bodies. Anne lay with her head her dark hair spread across the pillow. her arm was securely around Eiza, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on her skin, each touch a silent promise of affection and care. Thier breath was calmer now, Anne's eyes closed but not asleep, just basking in the afterglow, her body still buzzing with the echoes of pleasure. Anne, feeling the weight of Eiza's against her, Anne turned her head slightly to press a kiss against Eiza's forehead, her lips lingering there "you're gorgeous and the best host ever as well" anne chuckled "I expected the best margaritas and i ended up having the best sex" she added with a naughty smirk and made a long pause. she didn't want it to end and she didn't want to think it was over or something that would never happen again but she didn't know how to tell her or how to explain herself , so instead of saying more, she leaned forward to kiss her softly savoring the taste of each other. Anne pulled away slowly and smiled "I have to go" she whispered even though she didn't want to move away from the younger woman or think about the possibility to say goodbye forever so she asked right away "Can we repeat this soon?" the older woman asked with a smile that hid her doubts and fears to push Eiza away "I mean...if you want to" she said sitting up slightly and looking down at the beautiful woman still laid there enchanted with her natural beauty.

[marvel-lous-guy]

Peter: what's a polite way to say "this essay would have been better if I had any clue what the fuck I was doing"?

Pepper: "the analysis is severely limited by my lack of understanding what I am doing"

Peter: wow, that was great! You're really good at this!

Tony: she has to some up with polite ways to say all the shit she wants to in those board meetings

Pepper: not just in board meetings

[tittyinfinity]

It's really nice having a free housekeeping service thru my Medicaid but ever since my regular housekeeper that I had for a year (now friend) got promoted in March it's like every other person I've had fuckin hates disabled people