#something weird is happening in your chest. it tickles.

[ratatatastic]

its such a gem thing to think about taking someones idea for yourself but never going through with it until theyve personally pissed you off so bad and you want to twist the knife in a bit more

its a june gem thing to do think about it, rationalise it, realise they havent pissed you off and doing it anyways

ergo june gems are genuine maniacs and a hazard to society

[webslingingslasher]

Modelling all the new lingerie you bought for frat Peter and he's absolutely losing his mind

i want to preface that this is absolutly size inclusive, i just went with victoria's secret for the branding but we're gonna pretend they have all the sizes and inclusitivity they should.

warnings: a lil smutty

Peter eyed the pink and black paper bag in your hand, he tried to be understanding but there is nothing in that store that’s for him. You said you had a surprise and you got him something, but here you were standing in front of him with a victoria’s secret bag and a wide smile. 

“If you want me to wear womens panties during sex I need to hear you say it now.” 

You laugh, “no, that’s not… wait, would you?” 

“I’d do anything for you.” 

You roll your eyes, “always dramatic, parker.” 

He would. He’d do anything for you, you just don’t believe him yet. 

“No, I got these for you…” you trail and have a hand go digging, you pull up a lacy red lingerie piece. 

Dead silence, you start to feel insecure. Mandy assured you he’d like it, go feral even. But he’s giving you a blank stare, you want to throw the fabric over the balcony. After a crushing thirty second silence you feel warmth flooding your cheeks, you scramble to put the fabric back in. It’s pointless, you’d never be able to look at it again, let alone the store. 

Peter’s eyes widened watching your panicked movements, he was waiting for more information. He supposes it’s pretty but he really doesn’t think he could fit in it, plus this is a pretty major kink to throw on him at once. 

Refusing to make eye contact you ramble, “this was so stupid, I hate myself.” 

“Hey,” 

“Forget this ever happened, this is so embarrassing I have to leave.” 

“Hey,” louder. 

You bulldozed. 

“In fact, I think we could just end this here, peter. I mean this was obviously weird enough for the both-” 

He’s not going to lose you, “I didn’t say anything!” 

“That’s the point! You aren’t into it, Mandy swore you’d like it but-” 

Peter lets out a sigh, “baby, I mean, is that even my size?” 

You stop speaking and blink, you look at the bag and back at your frat boy. 

He thought it was for him, he actually thought you wanted him to dress up for you. 

“No, you dolt! They’re mine, I just wanted to, I dunno.. model them for you.” 

It felt less embarrassing wallowing in silence. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh!” 

A cocky grin spilled over his face, his hands interlocked behind his head and he leaned back on his bed, you watched his core tighten and flex with the movement. 

Peter licked his lips, “please do. Leave red for last, it’s my favorite color.” 

You’re glad he can’t see your shy smile, “I know.” 

The conformation makes the heat blossom in his chest. 

—-------------

Peter loves how you look, he says it every chance he gets, but knowing you put on a skimpy outfit with the goal being observed made you self conscious in a different way. Peter makes sure to dote on you plenty when he’s taking your clothes off, but those are small glances and kisses, this was you presenting yourself and showing off. 

You ran a hand down your torso as you exhaled heavily, you had to trust Peter. You weren’t sure what was happening between you two, it was a weird midway point. It was like you were dating but the casual touching or labeling was way off beat. 

The bathroom door clicks open and you step out boldly. 

“Ready?” 

Your boy’s head lifted off the bed, the first glance sent him scrambling to hit up. His eyes dragged over your body, everywhere he could see he soaked it in, like he was memorizing each curve of your body. It should make you feel self conscious, but he makes you confident. 

“My beautiful girl, hm?” His hands reach out, you step into his hold and feel him explore. You feel his fingertips race across the black lace of your bra, it’s not covering much, you can feel the heat of his hands through the mesh on your chest. 

You squirm as his tracing tickles you, his thumbs resting at your hips, he can’t stop himself. He lifts up the lace hanging from your front, the baby doll thrown over his head as he presses kisses up and down your torso. You sigh and grab the back of his head, you tangle into the curls and lean into him as his fingers dig into the plush on your waistline to keep you close. 

“So fuckin’ pretty,” batty eyelashes blink up at you, he’s a proud simp and munch. He kisses right above your thong, “how’d I get so lucky?”

His words make your knees weak, he always talks like that, like he’s the most lucky person on the planet to have you in his arms. He acts like you chose him, like you picked the short straw, but you were the lucky one. 

You pat his shoulders and step away, “one out of five?” 

No hesitation, “seven.” 

“Cheat. Don’t go anywhere, I have two more.” 

Peter sputters, “as if you have to tell me?” 

—----------------------

This one was a lot more fitting. 

It was bold, it was a nice hunter green, a bold bra and itty, bitty, crotchless panties. 

It felt like everything but your nipples were out, you’d burn this one if you hadn’t put your foot in your mouth about two more. You tap your foot as you look over yourself in the mirror and shake your head. Peter's seen you naked hundreds of times but you felt more exposed than ever before. 

“Petey?” 

Muffled, “yes, baby?” 

You didn’t know where to go from there, you heard movement, then a little closer to the door. 

“You alright, baby?” 

You let out a puff of air, “it’s a lot.” 

He’s connecting dots, “the outfit?” 

“Yeah.” 

Peter lets out an airy laugh, “I hate to tell you babe, but I’ve seen it all and love it more every time I do.” 

You nibble your lip, you just need a hype man, he could be that easily. 

“I’m like, naked naked.” 

“Perfect.” 

“It’s dark green.” 

A whine, “please let me see!” 

You crack the door open and peek out an eye, you see Peter watching the ground before looking up and smiling wide. You swing it open and spin slowly, his eyes not leaving your lower half. Peter crosses to the doorway and pulls at your hips and throws you on the bathroom counter. 

You gasp and watch his eyes trail down, he catches sight between your legs and you close them self consciously, his hand stops the meeting, then taps at your knee with his thumb for you to open back up for him. He takes his time drawing you in, his throat low and scratchy when he speaks. 

“Oh, oh I like these. I like these a lot.” 

Peter’s thumb races up the side of your thigh before gently tracing around your inner thigh and higher, you jostle as he rubs over the space your crotch should be, you choke on air and hit your head against the mirror, you open your eyes to see his locked on your face, his pupils blended into his eyes. 

He circles again and you grab his wrist to push it away, “I still have to show you the red one.” 

“I already saw it, I’m about to get on my knees and worship you.” 

Your cheeks feel like they're on fire, “let me show you the last one, then you can choose which one you wanna take me in.” 

Peter gives a sharp inhale, “you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.” 

—-----------------------

A full piece in red, you picked this one out yourself. It screamed Peter, the color, the lace, the style. 

The body had a built in corset, red cinched your waist. The bottom lapels had straps that connected to your thigh belts, this time a cheeky pair of underwear. It contrasted the harsh sex of the bodice, a peek of bum that led more to the imagination, just like your chest being pushed up from the corset. 

It was both the most dressed and undressed you’ve been all evening. The other’s were more uncovered but this one made you feel hot and powerful and confident. 

You didn’t need any help with this one. 

“This gotta be your favorite, right?” 

Peter felt time stop, he was absolutely speechless. He’s never seen you so.. so… gorgeous. A cocky grin, one that told him you knew how good you looked. And he doesn’t care what anyone has to say, his girl wearing his favorite color in lingerie was the down right sexiest thing he’s ever seen. 

His silence doesn’t scare you, it makes you fill with pride. 

“Yeah… that’s the one.” 

You stalked to the end of the bed where he sat, his fingers tugging at your thigh buckles. 

“I’ve never had a girl dress up for me like this.” A delicate confession, while his fingers and hands fondled over your backside and thighs. 

You shrug and run your hand through his hair, “you make me want to dress up for you.” 

Peter pulls at you to straddle his waist, “I’ll never stop being grateful.” 

“Is this the winner? You can take it off whenever.” 

Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “I kinda just like looking at you right now.” 

The black piece was lust. 

The green piece was passion. 

The red piece was love. 

Three things are very clear to Peter Parker in that moment. 

One, he wasn’t sure when, but you were going to be his girlfriend. 

Two, he’s almost eighty percent sure he loves you. 

Three, this is the hardest he’s been in his entire life. 

[jesuistrestriste]

Puppy art squirting 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

art’s laid out on his back with your hand around his cock, three loads pooled and shot out over his toned abdomen, and you’re still stroking him.

he’s whining and letting little punched-out gasps escape his chest, but it’s no use.

he knows you won’t stop.

i think the words you had used were ‘milk you dry’ when you had explained what your plans for him were tonight.

the blonde’s hands stayed behind his arched back, right where you told him to keep them, and tears pricked at his eyes as he squirmed and bucked his hips up into your first. sweat dripped down his trembling thighs, but you ignored it from where you sat between them.

“shh, puppy,” you coo, “relax for me… a lil bit came out last time, so you still have at least one more in you, ok?”

he shakes his head vehemently, trying his best to protest, but his swollen cock is doing most of the talking as it throbs and jumps.

your hand strokes him a little faster, and he all but wails.

“noo—! oh, god, please—” he sobs, tears threatening to spill over.

you only stroke him faster at the sound of his cries and focus your attention on his oversensitive tip.

“Art,” you say lowly, almost a warning, and you swear that you can imagine a tail tucking between his strong legs just from the look on his face.

he’s withering, pouting even, and then he’s back to moaning. you knew how to push him back into his place, and he enjoyed that. even if it sometimes made his dick feel like it was being scratched and tickled at the same time.

pain and pleasure. he could, and would, take it all for you if it made you happy.

a few more moments go by, and you then move your palm to glide right over his leaking slit.

art’s body convulses like he’s being electrocuted and his eyes go from being screwed shut to flying open.

“AH—” his hands fly out from behind his back and reach down for your wrist without his permission, wetness finally dripping down his cheeks from his flooded eyes as he shudders and hisses with oversensitivity.

“no, no, wait— wait,” he pleads, shaking his head, and he shakily retracts his touch from yours, but his palms hover over his twitching length, “that’s gonna be too much, it’s too much, it’s so much—”

he’s babbling now, gasping and slurring like he’s drunk, while your hands stop for the longest (and first) time since this whole thing started.

you look to his eyes, one hand wrapped around the base of him.

“you’re going to be ok,” you say softly, using your other hand to lean forward and wipe the tears from his cheeks, “you’re just gonna cum again.”

he shakes his head, sniffling.

“no, no, that felt weird,” he tries to explain between breaths and jolts of his spent body, “like something was gonna happen..”

you quirk a brow and then your entire body heats up as you realize what he’s describing. you’d seen it once or twice online, but you had no idea that art was able do it. and now, you were realizing, maybe he could.

you smile softly and breathlessly, giving him one firm stroke up and down before you pause your hand again. he curls in over himself and keens.

“do you trust me?” you speak gently.

he whimpers, but he nods. there’s a bit of hesitation in his head’s movements, as if he’s processing that you’re about to make his body do something that he’s never experienced before.

“hands behind your back, please,” you hum sweetly, but authoritatively nonetheless, and he complies without question.

all it takes is that one little indication of obedience from him, and your other hand is gliding up to swiftly start rubbing circles over the very tip of his cockhead with the flat of your palm.

he instantly sobs and cries out, shaking his head and digging his heels into the bedding while his head tips back into the pillows.

this only goes on for about fifteen seconds before he's gasping and lifting his head up to look down to you.

“oh my god, oh my god— oh— OH— no, no, something’s gonna come out, i’m gonna— it feels like i’m gonna—!”

your hand squeezes his tip now, and you begin to swipe the pad of your thumb rapidly over his slit.

“OH F-FUCK!” he yelps.

his legs kick out frantically on either side of you, his whole body arching up towards the ceiling as the strange coil in his gut finally snaps. he lets out one long, rushed, strangled moan, and then he squirts.

your jaw drops open as you watch the clear, watery fluid gush and fly out of him like a geyser, and you chuckle breathlessly.

“holy shit,” you murmur.

your thumb continues to glide back and forth over his tip as he releases more liquid, your digit faltering the stream, and he sobs harshly as he grasps at the sheets under his curved back where his hands remain.

after a couple long moments, the rush of fluid tapers off and he moans and whines little dopey, fucked-out words that make no sense.

you stop touching his tip, and glide that hand down to meet the one still holding his base. you sigh breathlessly as you sit there completely in awe.

art’s body collapses and his chest is heaving like you’ve never seen; for a second you’re worried he might pass out or hyperventilate, but he comes around.

his cheeks are flushed a bright red, tears muddling his baby blues, and his mop of shaggy blonde curls is a mess against the satin cushion under his head.

“Wh—” he mumbles, clearly still in a haze as the liquid trickles down the sides of his torso where most of it landed, “what just happened to me..?”

a breath.

“did i just… did i pee…?”

he whines softly and you remove your hands from his cock to lean down over his shaky form and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“you just squirted, it’s fine,” you try to reassure him, but this only seems to embarrass and confuse him further. although, the kiss helps ease some of this internal discomfort, even if just slightly.

he removes his hands tremblingly from under his back and pushes himself upright a little to look down over his wet stomach. he drops himself instantly back down and covers his eyes with his hands.

“i just pissed,” he says, his soft voice cracking with humiliation and exhaustion.

you frown and shake your head.

“Art, no, i promise you that you didn’t,” you tell him, trying to further soothe him, “it can happen when you get overstimulated, it’s okay.”

he tries to process your words, he really does, but he doesn’t have the brain capacity for it yet. he just moves to wrap his arms around you and push his face into your neck.

“i’m sorry,” he wheezes.

you kiss him some more. twice on the side of his head and then once over his shoulder. he relaxes a little more.

you return the embrace and sigh, rubbing his upper back as you pull his heavy upper body into your arms a bit further.

“don’t be sorry,” you whisper, “you didn’t do anything wrong, it’s all fine..”

he doesn’t say anything but you can tell that he’s too busy recovering to really take your words to heart.

you can take a quick shower with him, make him some dinner, cuddle and dote on him, and then maybe—just maybe—he’ll be open to talking about it. maybe he’ll even want to do it again.

who knows?

after all, he’ll do anything for you.

[babyleostuff]

ghost hunter | kim mingyu

[ aka what happened after mingyu came home from shooting the horror episode for gose ]

"i'm telling you, it was so scary. and then they took vernon, and locked us up," mingyu babbled, his lisp more prominent than ever, as he was telling you about the latest gose episode that they shot. 

you hummed in encouragement, although you could help but smile - your big beefy boyfriend, tall as a tower with muscles that had no problem intimidating people, being scared of something that wasn’t even real. 

“and then woozi wouldn’t answer me, and i thought they took him too!” he said dramatically, his breath tickling your neck with his every word. “mmm, you must’ve been so scared,” you ran your hand over the expanse of his naked back, and kissed the top of his head. 

“are you making fun of me?” mingyu whined, lifting his head up to look at you, his mouth in a pout. you wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. you giggled, cupping his cheek. “baby, you are making fun of me,” you laughed, your body shaking with laughter. “i’m not gyu, but-” 

“but what?” 

“you’re adorable,” you smiled at him, running your thumb over the mole on his cheek, then the one on his nose. “yeah, right,” he scoffed, pouting even more. “you know, if something like that ever happens, i’m not going to save you,” he mumbled, placing his head back on your chest. 

“i’d probably be the one saving you, my big baby” you thought, but you didn’t want to make him even more upset. “what happened after that?” you asked, placing your hand on the back of his head. 

“i’m not going to tell you,” mingyu said, shaking his head, as you smiled to yourself. “let’s go to sleep then, big boy,” you reached for the night lamp to turn off the light, but mingyu quickly grabbed your hand. 

“can the light stay on for tonight?” he asked quietly. “but don’t make fun of me.” 

“of course i won’t, gyu,” you reassured him, pecking his cheek. “besides, if the monsters come, i'll protect you. now sleep, ghost hunter. it’s been a long day.” 

a few minutes went by, and you were sure your boyfriend was fast asleep, when you heard his quiet whisper. “i was joking, you know. i’ll always save and protect you.”

author's note: this is so rushed, but I couldn't get this out of my head. mingyu was literally the cutest in todays gose. i love that man with all my heart

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic

[katsukistofu]

hold me in your arms (like the night hugs the moon)

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ m. fushiguro x reader. fluff. no pronouns mentioned. ★ midnight cravings lead to hearing something unexpected.

“Do you think about me?”

You bite your lip, inwardly cursing at the hopeful tinge in your voice. Where did that even come from? You just came to the kitchen to heat up your ramen, how did you get here?

Doubt claws at your insides as the intoxicating smell of his faint mahogany cologne that you’ve always thought smelled more like spiced apples and the honeysuckles from the hand lotion he likes to use tickles your nose. You try not to breathe in the familiar scent too deeply even though you really want to.

With his body still pressed flush against yours, Megumi studies you.

“Do you think about me?”

Your heart thumps uncomfortably in your chest. “I don’t.” Liar.

“I do.”

Your hopeful eyes flit to his, searching his face for any hint of a joke and his serious gaze stops you in your tracks.

“You still don’t get it, do you?”

And then suddenly he’s all over you.

Your brain numbly manages to process just how tall he is when he softly molds his forehead to yours. Like he can’t get enough of the warmth seeping through your flimsy pajamas and into his bare skin, and if he stopped touching you he’d start dissolving into ash.

It’s also getting even harder not to think about how good he looks. He’s just wearing his usual black, oversized shirt but you tell how hard he’s been training from the way his arms feel under your fingers right now.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly feeling very dry under his intent stare.

“Don’t get what?”

“Everytime I look up at the stars I see your eyes instead. When there are flowers growing on the side of the road, I can’t help but think of how much you’d like them.”

Megumi pauses, taking a moment to gauge your shocked expression, letting his gaze linger on your lips before looking directly into your eyes again.

“And whenever I pass by a stand making those stupid little custard filled fish, I remember that time you came whining like a baby to me about how bad your stomach hurt, even though I told you not to eat so many.”

His eyes stay on yours as you continue to gape at him. “So yes, I think of you.”

Your mouth opens once, then closes again, before you finally regain the ability to speak.

“You mean taiyaki, idiot. And I wasn’t whining that much!”

“You were. And I know what it’s called, smartass.” Rolling his eyes, he brushes his thumb against your cheek, trying to get something off.

“Hold still,” he murmurs. “Eyelash.”

“Oh.” Your voice doesn’t sound like yours when you speak. His touch feels so tender on your skin. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He leans in with a rare, tiny lopsided grin, which is way more attractive than it should be on any human and laces his fingers through yours. Oh.

He's so pretty that it hurts, and everytime he’s this painfully close your heart feels weird and more jumpy than usual and you swear that he knows what he does to you.

So close that you can see just how long his thick, dark lashes are which you’ve always thought just made him cuter ever since you went on your first mission together with him last year.

“You’re an idiot, by the way.”

“What?” You blink. Now he’s calling you dumb?

“I was planning to tell you all of this later at the cafe I mentioned in class yesterday.” He snorts, placing his hand on your head. “You know, at a normal, socially acceptable time to confess. Do you always need to be so impatient?”

Warmth flares in your cheeks. “No one told you to say all of that!”

“Really? Huh.” Megumi’s mouth twitches slightly. “Guess I’ll pretend this never happened, then.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You’re twisting the ring on your pinky finger.

He lifts a brow. “What did you mean then?”

“I mean… I like you too. A lot.” You mumble. Megumi’s free hand squeezes yours in response and your stomach flips.

“Good.” His lips quirk up. “Now put your ramen in so we can go to bed.” He nudges you in the direction of the microwave.

“But yours is still in there!” You protest, feeling a little light-headed from the sudden change of subject. “I was going to let you heat it up first.”

Megumi scoffs. “The microwave’s big enough for the both of us. Hurry up.”

The small smile that blossoms on your lips causes Megumi to look away and hide the growing blush on his face. “Okay.”

Right after you put your ramen cup next to his and press the timer’s button for three minutes, Megumi loops his arm under yours and around your waist, tugging you to his side with such ease that your brain goes numb.

“Hey.” He murmurs against your ear.

“Hi.” You say shyly, resting your hands just below his shoulders.

Megumi looks right into your eyes, before he speaks up again.

“I adore you.”

The words are so simple, and he says it so plainly like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. The moon rises and sets, fire is hot, the earth is round, and Megumi adores you.

You shiver when he brings you even closer, closer than before, making you exhale shakily against the column of his warm neck while your fingers grasp the fabric of his shirt tighter.

Megumi’s lips skim across your forehead with an aching softness, brushing against your skin as he murmurs once more before the microwave dings, signaling that the both of your cups of ramen are ready.

“Don’t forget that, stupid.”

megumi ‘igaf’ fushiguro

[svndaysaweek]

Addiction and Poisoning — {Feat. Minnie (& Miyeon)}

1.2k words

A/N: It’s been months since the last time I posted something. This might not be the best I’ve written, but I did write something, nevertheless. I’ve been feeling the need to release something, and @i-am-lifeform24 thankfully gave me a precious opportunity to write something!!! So I’m posting it here too. Check out other fics from the ‘Curated Companions’ also!

*Drug use, choking, bondage, a bit of angst(…?)

******

Once in for all. You head to the bar you’re regular at. Everytime you tip a glass there, you experience a weird dream and when you wake up you’re in your bed, no memories of how you even made it there.

It’s happened several times already. To the point where you start to doubt if it really is a dream.

A charming bartender, nice drinks, and the addictive dream-like scenes you fragmentarily see like a deja-vu. 

There are different versions of it, but all follow the same sequence: sit down, empty a glass or two, a little chirpy chit chat with the bartender and the very next blink she’s riding you in a frantic manner.

What haunts you the most is that you lose old memories too. The damage is disturbing, since even at work you don’t remember major events that happened. You really should stop drinking, and you're aware of it more than anyone. 

You can’t explain, but you feel like you should just go there again. It’s an addiction, maybe. You know you should stop, but you don’t.

******

The door swings open with the little bells on it quirkily ringing. It’s a dim bar, with the calm noise of people talking and laughing with clinking sounds. Over the counter she’s wiping glasses, not in a tuxedo but in a white sleeveless shirt, long blonde hair over a shoulder and a pair of orbs in her eyes with the aura that a quartz gemstone would exude.

Hot, but not red-hot. Erotic, but not foul.

The very eyes in your dreams that you made roll back.

“Hi, long time! The usual?” Minnie’s grin blooms quickly as if she’s been waiting for you. Then she fixes it the next second, recognizing how unusual it is for a bartender to be as turgidly excited as her.

“I’d love to.” With a bite on her lip she turns around, takes a bottle of whiskey. Then enters a room in the back for a glass.

Your hand automatically takes your phone out of the pocket. You see a message from an unknown number saying ‘Hey we need to talk’, but before you can check Minnie returns with the glass and serves it to you.

“Are you shifting soon? Never seen you in that shirt before,” A sip, and another. The latter is because it tastes rather different. “Ah, this? How do I look?”

Gorgeous!

Gorge-

Gor-

…

******

“Yeah, that’s it…” Minnie’s hands are planted on your chest while her hips are senselessly grinding on your cock. The pace skyrockets and her nails dig into you deeper and deeper.

But dangerously you don’t feel the pain. You can only feel how tight she’s squeezing your cock, how sweaty her thighs are, how hot her breath is and how good she’s fucking you.

“Fuck, it gets better everytime… How can I stop fucking you like this…” Her hands are now in her hair, arms open and messing her own hair a bit. 

She squeezes her own breasts before slightly choking you with both hands. You try to reach for her hands, which are cuffed to the bed. Minnie seems to enjoy the surprised look on your face, as her face descends to be just above yours with a pearly giggle.

“Bet Miyeon is all too vanilla to do this stuff to you in bed,” She whispers it right at your left ear before nibbling on it, making you flinch a bit.

“Miyeon? Who is-“

“Never mind, boy. I have only you and you—oh, god I’m close—have only me.” Minnie’s teeth leave a deep mark on your under lip. Her glance is now beyond enrapturing. It’s a poignant hypnosis with a tinge of coercion. 

Only when she cums and squirts on your cock with a rather lunatic moan is the bewitching scrutiny alleviated. The sound of heavy breaths and the tickle of her fingers stroking on your chest is all that you can sense.

And you’re sprawled on the bed, exhausted, with your consciousness fading out. “I have only you, Minnie” is what you lethargically repeat until all becomes dark.

******

You have no idea how you ended up on your bed. Again. The last place you remember you were at last night was the bar. 

Was it the whiskey after all? 

Before you could even get out of your bed a headache swirls inside your head.

I had intense sex with Minnie again in the dream again.

She mentioned someone.

I received a text from someone who wanted to talk with me.

What could all this mean?

All of a sudden, a loud knock on the door shakes you awake from your thoughts. 

“Who’s there?” You shout, and you hear a frustrated, urgent female voice.

“Honey, it’s me! Please open the door and let’s talk!” On the other side of the door there’s a woman standing. Anxious, upset and unfamiliar.

“Do I know you?” It’s a genuine question, because you don’t recognize her at all. “Honey, this is not funny. At all. Why the hell have you been ignoring all my-” The girl tries to grab your hand which you swiftly evade.

“Sorry, but what are you talking about?” 

You’re gazing at her eyes then you’re forced to shut your eyes because of a headache like being shot in the temple.

“Babe!” Down the hallway is Minnie. You are so confused by her calling you that, but it must’ve been the drink. Should’ve drunk less.

“Babe?! Excuse me, but do you know him? Honey, do you know her?” Miyeon looks shocked, terrified, even. “I do. Why are you asking me that? Who are you?”

Disbelief shades her face. “H-honey… What are you talking about? I’m your fiancé! I’m Miyeon, don't you remember?” At the same time there’s a victorious grin on Minnie’s face. 

“Seems the potion worked very well…” Minnie whispers in Miyeon’s ear, quiet enough for it not to make it to your ears.

You’re gazing at her eyes then you’re forced to shut your eyes because of a headache like being shot in the temple. Then all senses fuzz out.

******

“Don’t go too fast, Miyeon! It’s dangerous!” You’re on a bicycle following her, on a riverside road with cherry blossoms fluttering along the breeze. She briefly looks back at you, and the way her hair streams in the wind takes your breath. “You’re saying that because you can’t pass me!” She smiles playfully and speeds up ahead.

“What are you listening to?” She takes one of your earphones after sitting down next to you on the bench. “Just some classics. Autumn is a season of classics for me.” You turn your head in her direction and are stunned at how her look matches the color of the trees and sky ever so perfectly. She can only chuckle at your face.

“Oh my god, sweetheart, yes!” You’re down on one knee, putting a ring on her finger. She’s shedding tears with the happiest smile. “I love you, Miyeon.” You rise and hug her. Your hands are still shaking. Her shoulders shake from her crying.

“I love you too. I have only you. And you have only me.”

******

A/N.2: Check replies!

[papercorgiworld]

“I dare you to steal his clothes”

Draco Malfoy and Tom Riddle

Your friend dares you to steal his clothes while he’s in the shower, obviously things don’t go as planned…

Warning: smut, making out and the guys are naked

Some of you asked for Draco and Tom, I’m sorry it took me a while, but here you go. First time writing for Tom so I hope it’s okay. For Mattheo, Theo, Blaise and Enzo: click here

You were sitting in the slytherin common room. It was late and the party was dying down but your friends refused to go to their dorms.

“Truth or dare?” Your best friend asks as they try to focus on you but they’re clearly too drunk to manage that.

“Dare.”

Your friend tries to get their brain to come up with a good dare, something fun. It is then that they see a certain slytherin holding a towel and heading for the bathroom.

Draco Malfoy

“Really? Malfoy of all people?” You mutter as you reluctantly sneak towards the door of the slytherin boys bathroom. You and him never saw eye to eye, so being dared to steal his clothes was obviously not on top of your bucket list. Though you had to admit that embarrassing him was alway fun. As soon as you enter, you spot several scattered around pieces of clothing and quietly tiptoe to them. When you grab his pants his belt makes a little too much noise.

“(Y/n)?! Is that you?” Draco spots you and instead of moving, your threat response of choice is to freeze and stay crouched down with his pants in your hands. “Of course! Loser by day, weird pervert by night.” Your lips part in shock as he accuses you of being a pervert and you immediately protest. “If I was a pervert I wouldn’t be in here with you, because there’s probably nothing impressive to se-.” But just in that moment Draco fully steps out of the shower. With nothing left to the imagination your eyes widen and your brain shuts down. “Or maybe there is.” You mutter as you tilt your head slightly impressed. “Quit staring!” Draco snares as he searches for his towel. “Quit dangling it in front of me.” Now that Draco has finally found a towel you look away and meet his eyes. You’re surprised to find him blushing. “You’re not supposed to be here. You’ll be in serious trouble when I tell Snape.” He threatens.

“I was dared to do this. Are you really going to snitch on me over a stupid dare.” You roll your eyes. “For once be reasonable, Malfoy.” You complain. “You were dared to do what exactly? Join me in the showers? ‘Cause if that’s the case I won't snitch. I’ll even help.” A flirty smirk tugs on his lips as he walks towards you. You lay a hand on his chest keeping his still wet body at a distance. “No, I’m supposed to steal your clothes.” Draco huffs. “Not happening, darling. I’m not walking out here in nothing but my towel.”

You look him up and down, thinking about his suggestion to join you in the showers. “How about I offer you a deal?” You suggest and Draco just shakes his head. “There’s nothing you can offer me that I don’t already ha-“ you interrupt him and his arrogance immediately falters when he feels you closing in, your fingers tracing over his chest and abdomen. “How about my naked body pressed against yours as hot water tickles on us.” Draco stares deep into your eyes to make sure if you were being serious, because hearing you say this was something out of his fantasies.

While Draco continues staring and starts dreaming of what might happen you hook a finger behind his towel, bringing him back to planet earth. “So?” You ask innocently as if it wasn’t clear to you what he wanted. With a mix of hesitation and gentleness his lips move over yours, waiting for you to deepen it, which you happily do. As soon as he senses the passion in your kiss all doubt leaves him and his hand holds your head in place as he kisses you like it’s a nonverbal declaration of love.

While kissing, you stumble towards the shower and in the process Draco loses his towel, but that’s just all the more convenient. Feeling his hardening member against your thighs sends a wave of pleasure to your core. When a soft whimper rolls off your lips, Draco presses his forehead against yours and admires your face. “So fucking beautiful.” He breathes before kissing you with a loving hunger. With just barely enough self control he helps you take off your clothes before turning on the water.

***

Freshly showered and with a bright smile on your face you join your friends. “I got his clothes.” Luna cheers for you like you’ve won the quidditch cup, but Hermoine just looks at your still wet hair. “Did you shower while you were there?” She finally asks, unable to put the pieces together. However, before you can answer a whistling Draco walks in with just his towel around his waist and Hermoine slowly turns her face to you. What. The. Fuck. didyoujustdo!

Tom Riddle

If it weren’t for the alcohol in your system you would’ve never accepted this dare, Tom was trouble and you knew it, but the alcohol told you that stealing his clothes was easy peasy lemon squeezy. But it really shouldn’t come as a surprise that it wasn’t easy peasy at all, since you couldn’t spot his clothes at all. With the shower still running you decided to take the time to search a little longer. Cursing, you give up and turn around only to see a very naked and very smug looking Tom leaning against the bathroom wall.

“Didn’t find what you were looking for?” How long had he been standing there? “Oh, I’m sorry. I just accidentally walked into the wrong bathroom. Sorry.” You hope your flusteredness about the awkward situation covers up for your horrible lying skills. “Took you a while to figure out you’re in the wrong bathroom.” You nod awkwardly as he shamelessly stares you down, while you do your best to avoid staring at the nude man in front of you. “Yeah, but your nakedness kind of tipped me off.” You gesture to his body like he wasn’t aware of the fact he wasn’t wearing anything. He looks down at himself and you follow, staring a little too long at what’s between his legs. “See anything you like?” He questions amused as you panic and immediately look up at him. “No.” His tongue moves inside his mouth as he wonders what he could do to someone as innocent as you. You try to look away from him, but there’s something in his eyes that lures you back to them.

“That’s the second lie you’ve told me today.” Tom says as he moves towards you and for a moment you forget to breathe. He’s so close to you that you can count the water droplets on his chest. You feel your heart explode with anticipation as he leans in. At the last moment he moves away from your lips to your ear. “Try not to lie a third time.” He whispers and you feel your knees get weak. “Do you want my clothes for your silly dare? Or do you want me to fuck you?” You feel a wave of excitement rush through your body as you see a spark of sweet desire in Tom’s eyes.

“Honestly…” You breathe out clearly under the influence of your hormones. Tom’s eyes are glued to your body, filled with hunger, as he traces every inch of it, longing for you. “Both.” You say, not lying this time. Tom forces a smile as he’s not too pleased with your answer. “Then let me make the choice easy for you.” His harsh tone is the only warning you get before he pushes you against the cold tiles. The kiss is messy but wonderful and your hand finds its way to his hair as he traces sloppy kisses down to your neck. With one rough movement he picks you up and you wrap your legs tightly around him. His hips moving into yours has your panties soaking and he knows it. “Still interested in that game you were playing with your friends?”

“No. I like your game better.” You breathe out, feeling his hand slide up your legs under your skirt. “Good, smart girl.” You throw your head back and Tom pushes your panties to the side, sliding through your folds a few times before pushing in a finger. Your moans quickly fill the room.

***

You join your friends. “Sorry, I got a little distracted.” You try to sound casual but with everyone’s eyes on you you can’t help but get flustered. “Don’t bother lying, we all heard you scream his name over and over again.” Your eyes widen and you chuckle nervously. When Tom walks in, he quickly figures out why you’re all flustered. So he stops by you. “No need to be embarrassed, I loved the sound of your voice.” His suggestive whisper has you biting your lip and squeezing your thighs as your thoughts return to your previous activities. Maybe time to return to your room. Or his?

[shushmal]

Steve is loose-limbed and warm, and bone-meltingly satisfied as he slides under the sheets. Clean sheets. Nothing feels better than clean sheets. Clean sheets and his boyfriend, who Steve gets to curl up behind and bury his face into the center of his back. Eddie makes a sound, a happy little hum, and slides his hand along Steve’s arm where it’s wrapped around Eddie’s waist. Laces their fingers together and squeezes.

Bliss.

Until, probably only five minutes later when Steve is just falling asleep, and Eddie jolts upright with a shriek.

“What—?”

“Oh my god,” Eddie wails, and holds the side of his head. “Steve! Oh fuck, Steve!”

“What?” Steve asks, shocked into alertness, heart going from sleepy slow and hammering hard in his chest when Eddie whimpers. “What, what is it?!”

“There’s a bug in my ear!”

Steve, in the process of throwing the blankets off of them, of planning the quickest way to get Eddie down the stairs and out of the house, of mapping the drive to Hopper’s before whatever is happening for the sixth fucking time happens AGAIN—Steve, in the middle of all that, freezes.

“Huh?”

“I felt it! I felt something tickling my ear!”

“Ed,” Steve says slowly. “You have… so much damn hair.”

“It wasn’t hair!” Eddie shrieks.

“Okay, even if it wasn’t,” Steve tries to reason. “It still probably didn’t crawl into your ear.”

“No, I definitely saw a bug while you were in the bathroom, Steve! It was a weird bug!! Oh my god, what if it burrows into my skull! What if it lays worms in my brain?”

“Eddie, baby—”

Eddie looks at him, and there’s honest to god tears in his eyes. “You’re going to dump me because of my brain worms aren’t you?”

And Steve doesn’t stand a chance, and snorts with laughter.

“Stevie!” Eddie wails. “I have brain worms and you’re laughing?! Oh my god!”

“You’re such a dork!” Steve wheezes. He rolls out of the bed and drags Eddie towards the bathroom. “You don’t have brain worms.”

Eddie, still whimpering, obediently hops onto the sink, tilting his head and letting Steve pull his hair to the side, flashlight in hand. “But you would still love me if I did, right?”

“Of course, idiot.” Steve presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “Now, hold still, I’m doing worm surgery.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

I can totally see stan and his spouse trying to domestic a raccoon they randomly found

You were the living room when you heard Stan tussle with something outside after hearing something range through your trash. He was cursing up a storm for certain that you were glad that Ford had taken Dipper and Mabel out for the day for a lesson in the dangers of fae traps.

Once the tussling was over you fully expected him to come back into the shack, trusted broom in hand, complaining to you about how another blonde haired and blue eyed beautiful man was eating out of the trash cans…again; but when you moved from Stan’s recliner to greet him, you saw that not only was he in a worse state, he also wasn’t alone as hanging from his arm was a trash covered raccoon.

‘So I see you found the culprit to all that noise.’ You commented as you walked towards Stan with a smile, ‘and what a cutie they are! Oh yes you are!’ You cooed as you quickly took the raccoon from biting Stan’s arm and into your own as though you were swaddling a newborn baby, smiling down at it as the raccoon only looked back up at you with its dark eyes.

Stan, more than use to your urge to adopt and care for even the wildest of animals, walked up behind you and looked down at the raccoon over your shoulder. ‘He’s only the second cutest thing you’ve ever seen besides me, right?’ He asked and you only kissed his cheek before burrowing your head into his neck. ‘Of course you are Stanley.’ You reassured him softly before adding, ‘what shall we name this little guy?’

‘Little shit.’ Stan answered immediately but you playfully slapped his chest.

‘We can’t call him that! We have kids in the house remember!’ You chided him gently as you felt the raccoon grow restless in your arms, looking for a way to break out and escape from his weird human captors. ‘How about bandit?’ You then said and Stan stayed quiet for a bit as he mulled over the name in his head before smiling and kissing your cheek. ‘You’re a genius doll face! Bandit Pines welcome to the family!’ He exclaimed as he reached a hand down to affectionately scratch the raccoon on the stomach, only for the raccoon to chomp down on his finger, causing Stanley to let out a pained yell.

‘Ow!’

‘Bandit!’ You scolded and the raccoon immediately looked at you with wide eyes and flattened ears, ‘that’s not very nice, apologise to your father!’ You then held the raccoon up to Stan’s face. At first the raccoon didn’t do anything other stare at Stan, who was staring right back at him, but soon reached his little paws out to press against Stanley’s cheeks as Bandit sniffed and then licked his nose and forehead, making him chuckle at the tickling sensation.

‘Apology accepted little rascal.’ Stan said as he scratched Bandit behind the ear with his good hand, ‘but we should probably get Ford’s first aid kid and sort this bite out before it gets worse.’ Stan adds as he shows you his injured finger and you winced. ‘You’re right, we should get that patched up.’ You agreed though not before settling bandit down on Stan’s recliner and giving the raccoon a stern look.

‘You stay here while I take care of your father, then after I’m done it’s time we give you a bath, okay?’ You smiled but the second the raccoon was set down on the recliner, it bolted off of it and ran out of the door the second Ford had opened it, scaring him and the twins as they hide behind their Grunkle as bandit escaped into the woods nearby; You and Stan probably should’ve suspected that this would happen really but there was a reason why you were together, and seemingly adopting wild animals was your favourite pass time together when bored.

Ford sighed in exasperation as he looked at you and Stan’s still figures as you both looked back at him as though he had caught you both eating Dipper and Mabel’s summerween candy stash. ‘Again?’ He asked as you and Stan only shrugged your shoulders, thinking that what Ford had just seen was all he needed to know to get the full context of what had happened, you and Stan tried to domestic a raccoon and it didn’t work.

‘They’re wild animals for a reason, you can’t just file down their claws and fangs and not expect them to retaliate within their nature.’ Ford continues as he sent the kids up to their room to prevent them from seeing him scold their Grunkle and Great aunt/ uncle for the fourth time that week.

‘But we have waddles.’ You countered and Stan made a noise of agreement.

‘Fair point but you did just try to adopt a raccoon, you do know that right?’ Ford asked, severely questioning yours and his brother’s intellect for thinking that domesticating such a thing was even possible. You pouted. ‘He wasn’t just a raccoon, he was our son…for five minutes.’

‘I don’t like you disrespecting our son of five minutes pointdexter.’ Stan added on as he held you in his arms.

Ford couldn’t begin to comprehend anything that he was hearing and just walked out of the room in disbelief, his family was weird, but he was one to judge when he made a kissing robot in highschool for practice, full on incinerated his own face when he needs a shave, and tried to keep a three eyed crow he once found out of curiosity.

[gor3-hound]

can't fight this feeling pt.2

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

part one, part two

cw: 18+ content, dub-con, stepcest, mentions of past non-con and somno, obsessive behaviour, idek what the tag for this is so um - outercourse?? brief mention of murder n non-con recording

a/n: hiii! originally i hadn't planned a part two of this, but here we are! not sure if i like it as much as part one but we move... hope you all like it :))

word count: 1.7k words

Leon couldn't stop thinking about you. You'd crawled your way into his brain and settled down. His entire body itches when you are near, plagued with the knowledge he'd be unable to touch you how he wanted. How he needed.

He loved how pliant you were when he slipped a sleeping pill into your nightly tea, but it wasn't enough. He needed to know how pretty you'd sound moaning his name. He needed you to be awake. He'd had practice now, sneaking into your room at night. He needed to show you how good it would be, make you crave him as much as he craved you.

The perfect opportunity comes up a few weeks later. Your parents tell the both of you they're going away for a couple of days on a couples trip, leaving Leon in charge of the house. He gives them the sweetest smile as they get ready to leave, an arm casually draped over your shoulder as he promises to take care of his baby sister.

“Leon!” You start as soon as they're gone, smiling up at him excitedly. “We've got the place to ourselves! What d'you wanna do?” 

Oh, he can think of a few things, alright. But he's gotta ease into it. It wouldn't do him any good if he scared you off, so he shrugs, playing it casual.

“I dunno.” He replies, using the arm that's still wrapped around your shoulder to guide you into the living room. “Play some games or something? Have a movie day? Up to you, sis.”

“God, you're so boring.” You whine, playfully pushing at his chest with a giggle. He grins at that, squishing you close with his arm and ruffling your hair, ignoring your protests.

“You sure you wanna start a fight with me? You know I'll kick your ass, right?” He says with a playful grin, sliding an arm down to your waist, his hand gripping you there.

“No you wouldn't. You're a big baby.” You say with a laugh, looking up at him and sticking your tongue out. He cocks an eyebrow at your display, and before you can react, he's pinning you to the couch and tickling you.

“Lee!” You exclaim, laughing and trying to kick him off of you. Your arms push at his shoulders, but he's using all of his body weight to pin you down. You wriggle and squirm as much as you can, but nothing seems to get you loose.

“Come on, I give up, alright?” You manage to force out between giggles, using all of your strength to tug at his fingers and try and get his hands off of you.

“Nah, too late for that.” He says with a grin, pressing himself against you as he continues to tickle you. His hips meet your stomach, and he seems to realize that's a mistake as soon as it happens.

His cock is rock hard, and he can see the exact moment you feel it. The way your eyes widen and you freeze up. His own movements halt, his breath hitching as he finds himself unable to move away from you.

“Okay, seriously. Get off now, Lee. That's so weird.” You say with a frown, pushing at his chest. When he doesn't budge, your brows furrow, and you try and squirm away.

His grip on your waist tightens, and you find yourself panicking slightly. “Leon! What the fuck? Let me go.” 

“M'sorry. You're just so pretty. Can't help it.” He all but whines, grabbing your arms and pining the above your head with one hand, the other pinning your hip to the couch. “You got me so hard, princess. Just let me deal with it, yeah? Promise I won't hurt you.”

“Leon, this isn't fucking funny-” You start, your words being cut off by his lips meeting yours. Your eyes widen, and you jerk your head to the side to separate them. 

He whimpers, pinning your thighs down with his own instead so he can use your free hand to grip your jaw and keep your head still. It hurts a little, but he tries his best not to grip you too hard.

He kisses you desperately, digging his fingers into your cheeks slightly to pry your teeth apart so he can stick his tongue into your mouth. He's never been able to kiss you like this before, always too scared of waking you. You're so soft and warm everywhere, it drives him insane.

He begins to rock his hips against you, shifting so he's rubbing over your clothed pussy. You moan quietly into his mouth as he brushes your clit, already feeling your panties dampen. 

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest, the thoughts about how fucking weird this all is on the forefront of your mind. You let yourself be kissed by Leon, no longer trying to fight it. You find yourself kissing back before you even realize, tongue sliding against his as your eyes flutter shut.

When he pulls back, you feel a heat rising to your cheeks, and your breath comes out a little heavier than usual. He's still grinding against you, and you're doing your best not to show how much you like it.

“Leon, come on. That's enough. Mom and dad will kill us if they find out. This is so fucking weird.” You protest weakly, brows still pinched together as you look up at him.

“You're the reason that I'm so hard. The least you could do is help.” He grunts, dropping his head to suck bruises into the skin of your neck. You don't stop him when he reaches for your pants to tug them off, or when he starts fiddling with the bow at the top of your panties.

“Cute.” He says with a grin, sitting back on his heels between your legs to look at you. He dips the tips of his index fingers in the waistband, slowly pulling them down.

“Leon… we can't.” 

“Hmm? Why is that? It's not like you're actually my sister. And look. She likes it.” He says with that cheeky smile you've grown so accustomed to. You never thought you'd see it in this scenario.

“I'm a virgin.” You say quietly, eyes darting to the side like you're embarrassed to admit it to him.

No, you're not. He thinks to himself, trying his best not to give anything away with his expression. He almost feels bad lying to you like this, but it makes it so much sweeter knowing he's the only one that's touched you like this. 

Figured out you were taking the pill when he snooped in your room one day and assumed you must have been sleeping with someone else. He's happy to know he was wrong about that.

“S'okay, sis. I'll take it slow. Won't even put it in, pinky swear.” 

You pause, swallowing hard as you look up at him. You had no reason not to trust Leon, right? He'd been nothing but nice to you… it's not like anyone had to find out.

“You promise?”

“Yeah. Promise. I'll make it feel good for both of us.” He replies easily, leaning forward to kiss you again. He could be patient. It would feel so satisfying when you finally let him fuck you willingly. He doesn't mind taking it slow.

He frees his erection from his boxers as he kisses you, adjusting your panties so he can slip in them. He pushes himself between your folds, sliding back and forth. His tip brushes your clit every time he pushes forward, his thumbs holding his dick firmly against you.

You gasp softly at the feeling, hips bucking towards him as your hands grip his shoulders. He moans into your mouth as your nails dig into his muscles through his shirt, rutting against you faster.

Your moans are ever prettier than he imagined. His kisses turn even hungrier, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he sucks it into his mouth.

You're even better when you're awake. He can't believe it took him this long to gather the courage to make a move on you. You're so wet, dribbling all over his cock and making the slide even easier. 

He's not gonna last long like this, so he focuses on grinding the head of his dick against your clit, trying to get you to cum. Maybe if he makes you feel good enough, you'd let him fuck you before your parents got back.

“Leon… Leon, fuck.” You whimper, breaking this kiss and burying your face in his neck. It doesn't take long for you to be pushed over the edge, coating his cock ever more.

Just hearing you moan his name is enough for him to coat your pussy in cum, making a mess of your cute panties until the fabric is transparent.

He collapses on top of you, pressing his weight against you. He tucks his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent with a sigh. He feels his heart start to race when you try and press closer to him.

He's finally got you where he wants you. He knows you so well, knows he can make it so you'll be ruined for anyone else. He wants you with him forever. He'd kill anyone who tried to come between the two of you, and he's not above using his badge to scare off any men who so much as look in your direction.

As much as it pains him, he knows he's gonna have to wipe the videos he's taken of you off his phone. He can't risk you coming across them one day and ruin what you have going. He'd get some more, convince you to record a proper home video with him.

“Told you I'd always look after you.” He mumbles into your skin, rolling off you only to tuck you into his side, running a hand through your hair.

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with affection that only serves to drive him insane.

Yeah, you'd be his. He'd make sure of it.

Whatever it takes. 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Firsts

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first week at home

You get to come home the day after you're born.

Thankfully, you sleep the entire time though Pernille stays in the back with you just in case. It's a little strange, she thinks. The last time she was home, she was pregnant. Now she has you.

Your name is decided the day you come home and you do little but nap and eat. You're a little devil that first night and wake up on the hour, every hour to cry and feed.

Pernille has to get up because she's practically your walking food source but Magda gets up in solidarity too (though it's mainly to coo in awe at you).

The next day is more active. Magda drives you all to the registry office where they finalise your name and then to the embassies to register you as a citizen of Denmark and Sweden.

You seem to like the car because it sends you to sleep every time but dislike leaving it because you cry and whine until one of them holds you nice and tight.

You seem to like affection though. You're most content in Pernille and Magda's arms and you get all wiggly and weird when you're put in your car seat or crib. Magda can't quite tell yet if you just like their presence or if it's because of their warmth. Either way, she doesn't really care, more than happy to give in to your every need.

She takes a lot of pictures of you, sending them to family members who lament about not being able to visit but promise to book tickets to Germany very soon.

The exhaustion kicks in around day three. You haven't settled since your last feed of the night and Pernille's practically falling asleep in her seat as you suckle at her insistently.

Her eyes slip closed every few seconds and she has to wrench them open each time just in case something happens to you. Magda looks to be in a similar state as she lies on the floor at Pernille's feet, snoring softly before lifting her head when Pernille nudges at her.

"Huh?" She asks groggily," Wha's...Wha's goin' on?" Her words are slurred and she blinks the sleep from her eyes.

"She needs a change," Pernille says, unlatching you and handing you down to Magda.

Magda mechanically takes you, still completely exhausted but still awake enough to hold your properly.

You scrunch up your face in annoyance when she strips you of your babygrow and changes your nappy. It's one of the few things Magda can say that you absolutely hate. You screech loudly and kick out your little, uncoordinated limbs while Magda scrunches up her nose at the smell.

You're a little darling most of the time but she absolutely hates changing you. She thinks it's a fair exchange though. Pernille's barely producing enough milk to keep you full so there's none to express and put in bottles for Magda to use to feed you so Pernille stays as your sole feeder and Magda does the changing.

The little stump where your umbilical cord used to be looks fine when Magda checks it, a habit she has found herself doing ever since the nurse said that there was always a slight chance of infection. She tickles your stomach to distract you as she slips on a new nappy and buttons up your babygrow again.

"There," Magda says," All done!"

She picks you up and brings you into the crook of her neck. You're rooting immediately, trying to suck in her collarbone like it's going to get you milk.

Magda laughs a little, patting you on the back softly.

Day four and five happen much the same with the three of you trapped in your sweet little bubble at home.

Day six doesn't have much excitement either apart from the Wolfsburg chat blowing up when Nilla finally lets slip that Pernille has had you.

Most of the day is spent on a video call with you propped up on Magda's chest as Pernille shows you off to the camera. Everyone coos and awes over you as you yawn and clench your little fist.

Pernille swipes a finger against your cheek to show off how much you like to eat because you automatically move your face towards the pressure and start trying to root, searching for her breast.

It causes a fresh wave of coos to sound from the phone.

It makes you demonstrate your startle reflex expertly as your eyes go wide and you fling your arms out.

Magda likes to say that she knows you're going to be smart when you grow up just by how strong your instincts are but Pernille's planning on waiting until you're at least strong enough to hold up your own head to make such judgements.

"She's so pretty," Noelle coos from where she's squished between Ewa and Sara on the screen," When can we come to see her?"

"Pernille will come to you guys," Magda says as she holds you a little tighter with a wink to the camera. "We're keeping her to ourselves right now."

"Unfair," Ewa complains," Why can't we get baby love too?"

"Baby love is reserved for her mothers right now," Pernille laughs as she begins to say her goodbyes to everyone.

"How long do you think you can hold them off?"

"Probably until you leave. Frido, though, should probably get told before Nilla blabs to her too."

Magda sighs deeply. "I'll text her later."

"You better hurry," Pernille says," Or you're going to get a very angry phone call later."

On your seventh day at home, you let Magda know how you feel about her taking you from Pernille's breast before you're ready by spitting up all over her back when she tries to wind you.

Somehow, you've even gotten some under her shirt and she can feel the milky mixture slide down her skin.

Half-delirious from sleep exhaustion, Pernille finds this hysterical and laughs until she cries as Magda can do nothing but writhe in disgust.

"Pernille!" She whines," Stop laughing! Hold her so I can change!"

Pernille is still hysterically laughing as Magda feels your spit meet her waistband. To your credit, you're not crying or anything. You're just happily blowing spit bubbles out of your milk as Magda wriggles around.

"I've got her, I've got her," Pernille giggles as she takes you and mops up your face," Go and change. You smell."

"It's her fault!"

"Don't blame, princesse! She's just a baby!"

[imaginespazzi]

This Little Love of Ours

Three times Paige and Azzi didn't go on a date and the one time they did

(In which an alternate universe writer finally returns to writing things in the real universe)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 5.4K (sighs in *this was meant to be 2K* words)

TW: Light swearing, alludes to sexual content

A/N: Hi lovelies, I'm backkkk!! Gonna keep this short and sweet but this is basically me combining a bunch of prompts/requests into one. There's some creative liberty taken with logistics and as per usual, the editing exists but so do my typos. As always, let me know what you liked and what you didn't, as well as anything you'd like to see going foreward. Happy Juneteenth and I hope y'all have a lovely rest of your week <3

we were just kids (when we fell in love)

The streets of Minsk, Belarus are bursting with light and colour, the summer breeze enveloping the two girls walking riverside as they giggle over everything and nothing. They’re breaking curfew plus a hundred other rules right now and if one of their coaches ever found out, they’d be as good as dead. But there’s something about being out in the open with Azzi, being able to delicately brush palms and not worry about her jolting away in fear of being seen, that has Paige ready to be reckless. 

It’s been a year of learning Azzi, a year of discovering the little things that make her smile, a year of memorising the intricate stories that make her who she is. And Paige hides all these little details in a little treasure chest in the corner of her heart, bringing them out like little drops of lights when Azzi’s not by her side, and the darkness feels all-consuming. The thing is, Paige has never been attached to someone like this before, never felt like there was another half she needed to feel whole. She’d been an independent child, walls of steel barricading anyone from getting a glimpse into her vulnerability. For a long time, she’d been fine just living in the façade of being fine. But then she’d met Azzi. And all the walls had gone crashing down and it was okay not to be okay, because now while she held the weight of world, there was somebody there to hold her too. 

“Paigeeee,” Azzi squeals with delight, eyes fixated on a van across the road, “there’s an ice cream truck.”

Paige doesn’t get time to react before she’s being pulled along, the wind tornadoing around her body. And yet she feels warm and fuzzy inside, like there’s a blanket with Azzi’s name knitted into it, wrapped around her heart. 

“I’ll have the strawberry please,” Azzi smiles politely at the ice cream vendor, eyes sparkling with excitement, “P what are you getting?”

Paige grins, knowing her order is about to earn her a patented eye roll, “I’ll have the mint choc chip please.”

“You’re so weird,” the younger girl scrunches up her face and Paige suddenly has the urge to kiss her nose. 

They both know that they’re living inbetween blurred lines, on a trapeze balanced between friends and something more. It had been a whispered conversation of have you ever kissed a girl? do you wanna kiss a girl? do you wanna kiss me? that had led to a kiss Paige swears can never be topped, but they hadn’t spoken about it again. With them living in separate states, it had been easy to ignore that, that had ever even happened, both of them skilled players at the game of pretend. But it’s different now they’re back in each other’s orbit and every touch seems to linger on Paige’s skin long after Azzi’s hands have left her own. 

“You have no taste. It’s sooooo good,” Paige chides, making a show of licking her ice cream. When she looks at Azzi, she’s not expecting the way the shooting guard’s eyes have glazed over, fixated on Paige’s lips as she swallows nervously. An unfamiliar shiver tickles down Paige’s skin as they stand in silence, the air thick with a new tension. 

“It’s green,” Azzi says finally, voice coming out breathless, “that’s enough for me to know it tastes bad.”

“Don’t knock it til you taste it,” the blond holds out her cone as an invitation. 

When Azzi steps into Paige space, much closer than needed, she’s expecting Azzi to take the cone. She’s expecting that familiar jolt of electricity when their hands accidentally brush. Instead she feels herself being  mesmerised by Azzi’s face getting closer and closer til she can feel the younger girl’s breath fanning her face. She gulps, as Azzi presses her lips to the corner of Paige’s mouth, tongue darting out for the briefest of seconds before she’s pulling away. And despite the cool of the ice cream, every part of Paige feels like it’s burning. 

“I was wrong. Guess it tastes pretty good,” Azzi whispers, biting her lip. 

“You-I-what-” Paige splutters, struggling to form a coherent thought. 

Azzi giggles, clearly proud of herself  “Paige Bueckers speechless? Who thought I’d ever see the day?”

“You’re a fucking menace.”

“And proud of it.”

There’s the clichéd spring in Paige’s step as they continue to walk by the river. She shifts her ice cream cone to her left hand, letting the other one entangle with Azzi’s fingers. It’s nothing, the most mundane of things to hold her best friend’s hand, but it feels exhilarating, like it’s the start of something special. Determined, she tugs on Azzi’s hand to pull them to a stop. The Minsk waterfront dazzles behind them but Paige swears nothing’s glowing brighter than two of them in this moment. 

“Why are we stopping?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised quizzically. 

Paige smirks, a new surge of confidence taking birth in her stomach, “I wanted to try your ice cream too. You got a taste of mine, it’s only fair I get a taste of yours.” 

“Is that so?” Azzi hums, pressing herself against Paige, “too bad it seems like I’ve finished my cone then.”

“Yeah too fucking bad,” Paige agrees before crashing her lips against Azzi’s. 

***

Paige is exhausted at breakfast the next morning, barely registering the conversations that are buzzing around her. Her eyes are drooping from the lack of sleep and there’s a dull pounding in her head but she has no regrets. Last night had been everything. She can still feel every moment pulsating through her veins, her heart beating to the rhythm of Azzi Azzi Azzi. The younger girl hasn’t appeared for breakfast yet and Paige is itching to see her. They’ve been separated for barely a couple of hours, reluctantly heading to their own rooms after they’d gotten back, and Paige swears she’d missed the girl even in her sleep. 

“You got back late last night,” Cameron teases, sticking out a fork of fruit in Paige’s direction, “you two must have had a good time.”

“Yeah,” there’s a rare shyness in Paige’s tone, “yeah we had a great time.”

“Oooh are we talking about Paige and Azzi’s date last night?” Aliyah cuts in, a smirk playing on her lips. 

“It wasn’t a date,” Paige counters, suddenly feeling oddly defensive “it- it was nothing.”

Cam raises an eyebrow, “it seemed like a date.” 

“Well it wasn’t. It definitely was not a date.”

“You guys heard her,” Azzi's voice makes Paige freeze, something akin to guilt pooling in her stomach, “it definitely was not a date.”

Cam and Aaliyah raise their hands in surrender, turning back to whatever conversation they were engaged in before. Paige gulps as Azzi sits down in the empty spot next to her, body rigid. 

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Paige it’s fine. I get it.”

“You- you do?” Paige doesn't entirely know how Azzi can get it, not when Paige doesn’t even really get it herself. 

Azzi shrugs with fake nonchalance, “yeah, yeah I do and it’s okay. You’re right. It wasn’t a date.”

And it wasn’t. At least not by name. Paige knows that. Apparently Azzi knows it too. But everything about that feels wrong. Underneath the table, their hands intertwine subconsciously. Neither of them react. Neither of them pull away. It’s the start of something unspoken, something complicated, something beautiful and fragile and so, so volatile, something that’ll take them years to understand.

2. this all or nothing way of loving (got me sleeping without you)

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

Azzi fights the twitch in her hand that wants to reach out and grab her phone when that notification flashes on her screen. She musters up another fake smile at her date, hoping the girl in front of her hasn’t noticed the change in her demeanour. It’s ridiculous the way her body reacts to the most simple things when it comes to Paige. She hates it, hates the way it seems like she has no control over herself when it comes to the blonde. 

“Do you need to get that?” Anika asks, voice sweet as honey as she smiles at Azzi 

“No, no it’s just an insta notification. Nothing important. You were saying,” Azzi brushes it off, trying to keep her voice nonchalant. Anika seems satisfied with that as she returns back to telling Azzi about something her sister had done. Fidgeting in her seat, Azzi tries her hardest to keep her focus on the brunette, but her mind is whirring with curiosity about what Paige might have posted. 

The opportunity presents itself a couple of minutes laters, when Anika slides out of her seat to go to the bathroom. It’s a little embarrassing how quickly Azzi beelines for her phone, clicking on Paige’s story and immediately wishing she hadn’t. Anger and jealousy tighten their grip on her as she’s met with a picture of a caramel skinned, curly haired girl smiling at the camera, staring at Paige behind it, with that oh so familiar look of adoration. The text on the image reads in good company and Azzi feels bile rising up her throat. And she’s not allowed to feel this way, not when she and Paige had both agreed to turn their something into nothing but every day since that decision has felt a little bit like someone twisting a dagger into her heart, piercing further and further until she has no more blood left to bleed. 

She doesn’t notice Anika’s made her way back until she feels a warm hand on her shoulder, looking up to find concerned green eyes staring down at her, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” Azzi nods with a sense of calm she doesn’t feel, “you okay with me showing you off a bit?”

It’s a dangerous game she’s about to play, one of jealous retaliation that she knows will only make her feel better for a brief second before all the pain will flood back. But she reaches for her phone anyways, fighting the voices of logic and reason (that sound oddly similar to Colleen) in her head and instead giving into impulse. Anika beams at the camera, throwing up a peace sign, and Azzi’s heart stutters with guilt at how sincere her smile is. She snaps the picture, captioning it with  date night <3 and clicks post to close friends. Her heart beats erratically as she places her phone back on the table, trying to tune back into Anika’s conversation. It takes approximately three minutes for her phone to flash again.

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

This time Azzi doesn’t bother fighting the urge to look, a new adrenaline pumping through her veins. It’s a mirror selfie this time. The girl has her back pressed against Paige’s front as they pose in front of the bathroom mirror. Paige has one hand holding her phone while the other is sprawled against the other girl’s waist, where a silver belly button piercing shimmers against tan skin. There’s no text this time, just a red heart and that Paige-shaped hole in Azzi’s heart is starting to get larger and larger. 

“You wanna take a walk?” Azzi asks Anika, tearing her eyes away from the phone, “it’s nice outside.”

Anika smiles, rising from her seat and holding out a hand that Azzi gladly takes. It would be easier, Azzi thinks, if she could just fall in love with this girl. Someone less complicated, someone who had less power over her, someone who was here. But it’s a futile dream, her heart is spoken for and Azzi doesn’t think she’ll ever get it back. 

It's a beautiful winter night outside and there’s a pretty girl holding her hand. That’s all Azzi should be thinking about. Instead, her mind is stuck on the image from before and it’s that vision, welded behind her eyelids, that has her taking a picture of her and Anika’s intertwined hands. As she types out the caption, one that feels way too deep for a first date, Azzi can’t help but roll her eyes at herself. She can’t remember the last time she’d posted a story, let alone two in a row and now here she is, posting inauthentic story after story to win a losing game. 

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

This time there’s at least 10 minutes before Azzi’s phone flashes with that notification again. Next to Azzi, Anika lets out a sigh, starting to become less amiable to the idea of her date constantly checking her phone. Azzi shoots her an apologetic look before her expression quickly turns stone cold at seeing the new picture. It’s a haphazardly taken, slightly pixelated, photo of Paige smiling and the girl kissing her cheek. And if Azzi was in any mood to analyse just a little further she’d notice that Paige’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, isn’t quite as wide as her real one. But there’s green fog clouding her judgement as she seethes internally, Anika’s soft touch doing nothing to calm her down. Tapping on Paige’s profile, Azzi fingers hover over the three dots on the upper left, as her petty side begins to take over. 

And then she hits block. 

***

“How was your date?” Paige’s mocking voice rings throughout Azzi’s childhood bedroom at almost 2 in the morning. She shouldn’t have answered the facetime call, should’ve held out for longer than just three missed calls and twelve angry texts. But Azzi has long realised that she’s putty when it comes to Paige. 

“How’s your girlfriend,” Azzi bites back. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Right,” Azzi draws out the word with an eyeroll, “how’s your fuck buddy then?”

Paige closes her eyes, rubbing her temples. When she opens them, the angry hard-to-read Paige that she’s been dealing with for the last month is replaced by Azzi’s soft, sweet and vulnerable Paige. Being apart after having been together all through lockdown has been harder than either of them could have imagined. They’d just assumed it would be easy when Paige finally left for UConn, after all most of their relationship had been built while living in different states. But somewhere in between workouts at 6 am and movie nights with Azzi’s family, they’d gotten used to living in each other’s skin, forgetting just how difficult it was to be apart from each other.  

“I miss you,” Paige whispers, “all the time. I can’t wait til you’re here.”

I miss you too, so much that sometimes it’s the only thing I feel, Azzi thinks and really it’s what she should say, instead the bitterness wins out, “why? So I can see you and that girl being all coupley in person instead of just on instagram?”

“That’s not fair, Azzi. You said you wanted to be just friends for now. You said I should try with other people and now you wanna throw that back in my face?”

“It was mutual-”

“Bullshit,” Paige sneers, “don’t try and put that shit on me. You made the decision and I just went along with it.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have then,” Azzi says exasperatedly, blinking her eyes rapidly to keep tears threatening to fall at bay. They fall into silence, staring at each other through the screen with identical expressions of only you can hurt me, only you can heal me. Azzi wishes she could reach through her phone, pull Paige into her world and melt into the older girl.

“What do you want from me Az?” Paige asks softly. 

I just want you, Azzi thinks miserably. She wants to be beg Paige to end things with that other girl, wants Paige to tell her not go on anymore dates, want to go back to being something, but she can’t, not when she’s convinced herself that they need do this, go through a phase of being nothing, so that they can be everything someday. This whole idea had taken birth in her head out of the fear that this- the two of them not knowing anything but each other- would eventually lead to resentment, that they- that Paige- would wake up one day and realise there was so much more the world had to offer. So now Azzi’s playing the long game, trying to believe in the clichéd year old adage that you have to let the people you love go, and if they come back, they’re yours. And she hopes against hope that Paige will come back, because Azzi doesn't think she’ll survive anything else. 

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, instead of voice the other thoughts dancing on the tip of her tongue, “I’m sorry I’m being unfair.”

Paige’s eyes soften, “can we just- can we just talk about something else?”

And they do. They talk all night about everything and nothing, falling asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing. It’s that same nightly routine neither of them can fall asleep without. Because even if they’re both drowning in a sea of unspoken words, at least they’re sinking together, perhaps there’s some comfort in that. 

3. you make me smile (please stay for a while now)

Azzi stares at her reflection in the mirror for what feels like the thousandth time. She’s a bundle of nervous energy as she pats down her neatly ironed mini-skirt, adjusting her already perfectly-set crop top. It’s a little bit like how she feels before stepping on the court, dizzy with both nerves and excitement in anticipation. By all technicalities, this isn’t their first date. There’s probably friends and family who would argue this is closer to be their millionth or so date but nothing has ever been official. It just means more. 

She jumps a little when the doorbell rings at exactly 7 p.m. sharp, taking in a deep breath, before she opens the door. Paige stands outside in black pants with a black crop top and a multicolor cardigan, and a bouquet of pink roses in her hands. It takes Azzi about two seconds to realise that something’s wrong. Paige’s eyes are a feverish red and her smile is tired; it’s her all too familiar Paige is sick demeanour that Azzi’s quick to recognize after years of having seen it. The blonde opens her mouth to say something and instead all that comes out is a series of loud sneezes. 

“Oh baby,” Azzi gives her a sympathetic smile, reaching out to feel Paige’s forehead and then narrowing her head when she feels the heat, “P-”

“I’m fine,” Paige cuts her off, her voice gravelly, “just allergies.”

Azzi crosses her arms, knowing she’s about to deal with a petulant child, “I don’t think so. You’re clearly sick.”

“I don’t-,” Paige tries to disguise the cough in between her sentences, “-get sick.”

“Sure you don’t,” Azzi nods, as she tugs Paige inside, grabbing the flowers and setting them aside. Paige lets out grunts of protest, but her body is clearly too tired to fight back as Azzi guides them into her room. She goes into her closet first, finding an oversized shirt for Paige to change into. 

“You know the getting undressed part comes after the date right?” Paige raises an eyebrow, practically glaring at the t-shirt 

“We’re not going on a date.”

“WHAT? Dude I’m fine. I have a reservation and everything,” Paige whines in between coughs as she watches Azzi rummage through her drawers for medication, “it’s our first date. I had plans.”

“I’m not going on a date with you looking all snotty and congested like that.”

Azzi suppresses a laugh at Paige’s offended sequel, “what happened to sickness and health?”

“Pretty sure that’s a marriage thing,” she hands Paige the pills and a glass of water, that the older girl obediently takes.

“Well we’re eventually gonna get married so you need to get used to that,” it’s said so casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but it steals Azzi’s breath away, the words carving themselves into the walls of her heart. Sometimes she wonders if Paige understands the gravity of the things she says, understands how they make every part of Azzi come alive with hope for their future. She shies away from a smirking Paige, trying to hide the blush that’s creeping up her neck. 

“Just- just get changed,” she manages to stutter out. 

“I,” sneeze, “don’t,” cough, “want” sneeze, “to.”

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

“You have to get better P or coach will kill us both if you end up missing practice.”

“Going on a date with you would make me feel better.”

“Okay,” Azzi sighs, realising she needs to change tactics, “we’ll make a compromise. You’re gonna change-” she raises a hand when Paige tries to interrupt, “you’re gonna change and lie down, and if you don’t fall asleep in the next 10 minutes, we’ll go on the date.”

Paige’s eyebrows furrow in concentration as she mulls it over, before a scheming glint appears in her eyes, “okay but on one condition,” her grabby hands reach for Azzi’s waist, a soft smile playing on her chapped lips, “you have to lie down with me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes fondly, letting the blonde pull her into her arms, her own hands encircling Paige’s back as the older girl snuggles into her neck with a content sigh. This is her happy place. In any room, anywhere, as long as she’s cocooned in Paige’s embrace, there’s a sense of serenity that seems to flood into Azzi’s veins. 

“I could fall asleep here,” Paige murmurs, hot breath fanning against Azzi’s collarbone, “you’re so comfortable.”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to physically manoeuvre Paige onto the bed which only elicits a smirk against her skin. 

“If you wanted me in your bed Az, you could have just asked,” the older girl wiggles her eyebrows, earning her a small push from Azzi as Paige drags them both down into a mess of limbs and pillows. Cerulean blue eyes stare up at Azzi, a little bloodshot from the impending fever, but still blisteringly brilliant with love. It scares Azzi sometimes, to see all that emotion swimming in Paige’s eyes, all for her and it scares her even more to know that same pool of you’re it for me is reflected in her own too. Sometimes she worries they’re too young for this, too young to feel so much but then Paige smiles, and all of Azzi’s doubt flies away as she lets herself believe in forever. 

***

Paige doesn’t even really make it past five minutes, her sick body giving into the tiredness as she cuddles into Azzi, arms splayed over the younger girl's torso, as she keeps her head buried in her shoulder. There’s a content smile on her face as Azzi continues to run her hands through silky blond hair, brushing out tiny knots and waiting a couple of minutes, before she detaches herself from her girlfriend and heads to the kitchen. She’s not the greatest of chefs, but she’d like to think she’s skilled enough to try and make something that at least resembles chicken noodle soup. 

Azzi’s almost done when she feels a blanket being wrapped around her, two arms coming to wrap around her waist as she feels the weight of Paige’s chest pressed against her back, the older girl's head coming to rest in the crook of Azzi’s neck. 

“You’re already awake,” Azzi whispers, leaning her head back so she can brush her lips against Paige’s temple. 

Paige grunts, her voice nasally when she speaks, “you left and I was cold.”

“I have like three blankets on my bed you could’ve used.”

“Don’t wanna use blankets. Wanna use you,” Paige whispers, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s neck, making the younger girl shiver, “you’re much warmer.”

“Go pick out a movie to watch, I’m almost done with this.”

She can’t see it but Azzi can practically feel Paige’s raised eyebrows, as she dramatically sniffs the air, “you cooked? Babe I’m already sick, are you trying to get me sicker?”

“Wow. I slave over the kitchen for you for hours-”

“Maybe half-”

“HOURS! And you have the audacity to question my cooking when all you can make is buffalo chicken dip?”

“Hey, you love my buffalo chicken dip.”

“You keep telling yourself that baby.”

“It’s not nice to be  mean to your sick girlfriend,” Paige snickers as she makes her way to the couch in  Azzi’s room. 

“So you admit you’re sick then?” 

“Only sick to my stomach at whatever you’re gonna feed me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, pouring the soup into a bowl. She secretly loves when they get like this. It’s a reminder that no matter what other label they eventually put on their relationship, Paige will always be her best friend first. As soon as Azzi sits down on the couch, Paige is all over her, knowing exactly how to shrink her body so that all 6’0 of her fits perfectly on her girlfriend’s lap. This is Azzi’s favourite version of Paige really, the soft vulnerable babygirl that’s only for Azzi’s eyes, a far cry from the ultimate rizzler the rest of the world sees.

“Feed me,” Paige pouts and Azzi shakes her head fondly but does as she’s asked, holding a spoonful of chicken noodle soup in front of Paige’s mouth.

“Thought you were scared of my cooking?”

“Oh I am but the things we do for love,” the blonde says dramatically before letting Azzi feed her, “huh, that’s not half bad baby.”

“High compliments,” Azzi says mock-seriously, as she tries her own spoonful, “oh I kinda ate that.”

They both dissolve into giggles at that, falling into a comfortable conversation as Azzi takes turns feeding both herself and Paige, the dull rumbling of some random movie behind them. 

“You’re always taking care of me,” Paige says softly after a while, hand caressing Azzi’s left arm as she lies against her chest, feeling her heartbeat underneath her fingertips. 

“Someone has to,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s hair, “you take care of everyone else and I take care of you.”

“Sorry I ruined our date but trust, I’mma make it up to you,” Paige mumbles sleepily, digging herself further into Azzi’s arms if that’s even possible. 

“I’m sure you will baby.”

“I love you.”

“Love you more P.”

And if in two days, Azzi’s the one that’s sick and Paige’s attempt at making chicken noodle soup goes even worse, well, let’s just say it’s a good thing they have NIL deals and can afford a chef in the future.

4. me i fall in love with you every single day (and i just wanna tell you i am)

“Where are you taking me?” Azzi giggles, hands outstretched as she tries to navigate the path in front of her, despite being blindfolded. The salty sea air brushes through her hair, as she places one foot in front of another, letting Paige’s hands on her waist guide her across the cruise ship. 

“Be patient, we’re almost there,” Paige whispers against her ear, nervous anticipation building in her stomach. She’s been planning this night from the moment they’d booked the cruise tickets, wanting everything to be as near to perfect as possible. The thing is, they’ve been on plenty of dates, some even before they’d officially started calling them dates. But most of those dates have had to be carefully constructed away from prying eyes, their hands itching to hold the others but forced to dangle by their sides so they could keep up a façade in public, that this was just friends hanging out. The cruise is the perfect spot for a private date, one where Paige wouldn’t have to keep her hands to herself, not that she’s done a good job of that the whole trip anyway. But she’s found the perfect secret spot and spent just a little bit of money, to make sure the other cruise goers wouldn’t bother them tonight. 

“Are we there yet?” Azzi whines and Paige can’t help but laugh, finally pulling them to a stop.

“So impatient,” she tuts as she finally pulls away Azzi’s satin pink blindfold. 

“Yes well I’m star-oh…” Azzi blinks, eyes adjusting to the light as they flitter over her surroundings, the words being stolen from her lips as an awed look takes over her features, “Paige.”

“You like?” Paige bites her lips nervously.

“Do I like? Baby, this is beautiful,” tears sparkle in Azzi’s eyes as she loops her arms around Paige’s neck, “it’s perfect.”

They’re standing on the bow of the cruise ship. In the distance, the island they’re docked at, is illuminated by lights, making it shimmer against the dark night sky. A table for two sits at the helm of the ship, adorned in a purple velvet table cloth. There are candles and pink and white rose petals scattered all across the floor, with a small path carved out in between so they can walk to the table. On the table, there’s a customised crystal centrepiece with their names carved into it and inside it is a bouquet made of pictures of them. It’s a little cliché really, especially for two people whose path to each other had been anything but traditional but all Paige has ever wished for is a moment of normalcy with Azzi, a moment where they’re not star players, just two girls in love, enjoying a typical date night, a moment where they’re just PaigeAndAzzi. 

“When did you even have time to plan all of this?” Azzi marvels out loud, as Paige pulls out a chair for her. 

“I have my ways,” the blonde says with a smirk, taking a seat opposite her girlfriend and reaching to entwine their hands together. 

“You didn’t have to do this P.”

Paige shrugs, “I wanted to. We deserve this.”

Azzi nods, squeezing Paige’s hand because god knows they do deserve this. It’s been a hellish year if they’re honest. The highs had been wonderful but the lows, god the lows had felt like the ground being pulled from beneath their feet as they gripped each other, holding onto the only thing in their lives that felt like a reprieve from the darkness that swirled around them. And really that’s it Paige thinks, life can throw whatever it wants at her, but as long as she has Azzi, she’ll learn to survive it. 

“You wanna dance?” Paige asks, when they’ve finally finished eating, somehow managing to find a way to hold hands throughout the whole three course meal. As if on cue, a violin quartet appears onto the deck, and Azzi laughs at the coincidence. It’s Paige’s favourite sound in the whole wide world. 

“You’re such a sap,” Azzi teases fondly as she lets Paige lead them onto the floor, “how many romcoms did you watch to come up with this whole thing?”

“Dude, are you doubting my abilities to come up with a perfect date?”

“I would never,” Azzi swears, leaning her cheek against Paige’s, “but seriously Bueckers, you’ve outdone yourself.”

The melody of “thinking out loud” on the violin with the light thrum of the sounds of the wind and the ocean, creates the perfect orchestra for them to sway to, as they press every inch of themselves into each other, trying to lose themselves in the other’s arm. That feeling of home, a resounding peace, echoes throughout Paige’s skull and she thinks if there was ever a memory she’d want to replay over and over again, it would be this one. 

“I’m gonna miss this,” Paige whispers, “being with you like this?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“No I know- I just- I like being able to be us in public like we have this last week. I like not pretending.”

“What if-,” Azzi pulls back a little, eyes locking with Paige’s, “what if we didn’t pretend?”

Paige searches for a shred of hesitance in Azzi’s face, but finds nothing but complete resoluteness and a grin breaks out on her own face, “what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that even if we don’t say anything, maybe we don’t have to try and hide everything all the time either. I’m saying,” Azzi bites her lips, shyly smiling, “if you wanna hold my hand when we’re in public sometimes, you- you can if- if you want to.”

“I really, really, really want to,” Paige breathes against the brunette’s lips, hands rubbing circles against her waist. 

“Good,” Azzi whispers back, “because I really, really, really want you to.”

[sugrhigh]

FEELINGS MUTUAL - ( c.s. )

summary- you and chris, a d1 lacrosse player, have been good friends since freshman year. he accidentally hurts your feelings one night while youre hanging out, and things escalate as he’s apologizing.

warnings - it’s smut (use of ma included oop) so PLEASE read at ur own risk, if u don’t like it keep scrolling cuz idgaf 🤭

bff!chris x fem!reader

a/n: this is my first one shot on here AHH! i’ll probably be writing more so if you have requests or ideas, pls send them my way xoxo

“i still don’t understand how you predicted most of that within the first thirty minutes.” chris shakes his head, arms crossed as he leans back against the headboard casually.

“i told you, i’ve got it down to a science. all scary movies are practically the same.” you shrug, clutching a pillow to your chest as you lay in his bed.

it’s late now, or early. you’ve been watching movies together all night, just like you usually do during slow weekdays where neither of you have to be up for class, or in his case, practice.

“i wish you didn’t insist on watching them all of the time.” he says.

“aw, is little christina scared?” you tease him with a small grin.

“i hate when you call me that. and nothing about me is little.” chris kicks you with his foot gently, and you nearly roll off of the bed trying to avoid the contact.

“gross.”

“whatever, you’re the one thinking about my dick.”

“i absolutely am not.” you argue, though you feel your cheeks flush.

“keep lying.”

you lift an arm out to smack him in the bicep, and he just laughs. “stop flirting, you slut.”

“if i was flirting, you’d know.” chris smirks, running a hand through his long hair.

“you think you could rizz up the babadook?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him properly.

“oh for sure.”

he doesn’t hesitate before saying it. he even nods his head a little bit in certainty.

“someone’s confident.” you laugh.

“c’mon, i could rizz anybody up.”

“you haven’t managed to do it to me, and we’ve been friends for two years.”

“that’s because i’m not trying to.”

for some reason, this stings a little. chris is a bit notorious for getting around, though it’s not really his fault. as a d1 lacrosse player who also happens to be very attractive, girls come falling at his feet.

you’re just not one of them, and he clearly doesn’t mind. you’re not sure why you even care.

it just makes you feel weird, that you’re the only girl he’s not attracted to for whatever reason. like you’re defective or something.

“right. i forgot you’ll hit on every other girl in the world, just not me.” your voice comes out more sour than intended.

chris looks a bit surprised, eyebrows raising slightly at your tone. “because you’re…you know…you.”

“wow, you really know how to make a girl feel good, huh?” you roll your eyes before turning to lay facing the other direction.

a hand snakes its way to your waist, a familiar sensation that still makes butterflies erupt in your stomach regardless.

“you know i didn’t mean it like that.”

you bury your head further into the pillow, trying to ignore the way his thumb is tracing circles against your hip. “whatever, chris. i get it.”

“you clearly don’t, because you’re all pissy now.” he sighs, breath tickling your skin.

“no i’m not.”

“yes you are.”

“i just want to sleep.” you lie.

chris fully wraps his forearm around your stomach now, tugging you so that your back is flush against his chest. he buries his chin in the crook of your neck, and you can’t help but smile slightly to yourself.

“all i meant is that you’re not those girls. you’re too special.” he says quietly into your ear.

you bite down on your lip to try and keep the grin from growing.

“now you’re just humoring me.”

he shakes his head slightly, stubble scratching at your shoulder in a pleasant way. “i’m not and you know it.”

you’re actually thankful you’re in a tank top, because having his warm skin on yours is nice. you’ve never felt it before, and it kind of makes you nervous.

“do i?” you question.

“you should. you’re the only girl who can get me to watch horror movies with her. the only one who sleeps over, or gets to steal my hoodies—”

“oh please, i know you gave that bitch maddy your sweatshirt. she wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.” you cut him off.

“okay, she stole that from me and now she won’t give it back, so that’s different.” chris shuts you down quickly.

“if you insist.”

you shift slightly in his arms, and you hear him suck in a breath as you get comfortable.

“don’t do that.” his voice is strained.

“what?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“don’t move like that.”

“i’m not allowed to move now?”

“not when your ass is on me.” his grumbles, and you finally get it.

“oh.”

your response is abnormally high pitched, and you’re not sure what else to say. you’re too terrified to turn even in the slightest.

“who’s scared now, huh?”

you swear he must have gotten closer, because you can almost feel his lips hovering by your earlobe as he speaks. the smile is prominent in his tone.

he’s teasing you, and it spurs a fire in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never felt with him before. you maneuver your body, and this time you purposely back your ass up against his lap.

you hear him let out a small groan that vibrates against your body, and it nearly makes you shiver.

“not me.” you give him attitude, though you’re practically breathless.

“have you really thought this through?” chris asks, pressing up against you so you can actually feel how hard he is.

you’re already pulsing, and his fingers dance back and forth across your stomach lightly. even with your shirt as a barrier, it’s too nice.

you nod in response, and his hand slides up your arm and over your shoulder, fingernails barely raking against your skin as he goes. chris grips your throat, and you push against him for some sort of friction, for anything.

“tell me you want it.” he demands, squeezing just a bit harder.

“you want it.” you manage to taunt, grabbing his arm and guiding it down your chest to the bottom of your shirt.

his hand slides underneath the tight fabric, back up your stomach, traveling to massage your left tit slowly. his thumb ghosts over your nipple, and you arch your back into him involuntarily.

“fuck.” you gasp quietly.

“no bra, huh? just for me?”

chris twitches against your ass, attaching his lips to your neck hungrily. his tongue slides against the sensitive skin, teeth digging into the flesh where your throat meets your collar.

his hand switches places, and he drags the pads of his fingers across your other nipple in a tantalizing pattern. the sensation of his touch and his mouth at the same time is bliss, and you let out a moan of pleasure.

“always wondered what you sounded like, you fuckin angel.” he praises, grinding his hips against you.

just feeling his length, pressing right against your core through the fabric of your yoga pants, makes you incredibly wet. he’d be shocked to find you’re not wearing underwear either.

you guide his hand back out from underneath your shirt so you can flip over again, sitting up slightly as you move to straddle him. he’s already bucking up into you, whining from the feeling of being underneath your hips.

“don’t tease me. i’ve waited too long for this.” chris pulls your arm down so he can give you an actual kiss.

his lips are soft, molding against yours desperately as his hands grip your ass. you rock against him as his tongue slides against yours, and he groans into your mouth.

“god, i love hearing that.” you admit against his lips.

you pull away so you can lift his shirt over his head, trailing your long manicured nails down his chest slowly, right along his happy trail. he throws his head back against the pillows, relishing in the feeling.

you can tell he’s growing frustrated though, and suddenly he grabs you by your waist, throwing you down so your back hits the mattress.

chris helps you out of your top like it’s a race, tossing it to the floor with his other clothes. he positions himself over you, capturing your lips with his hungrily.

you bring your hands up; one tugging at the curly strands of hair on the back of his neck, the other clawing at his back.

he likes this, smiling into you before biting down on your bottom lip harshly. chris pulls away, pressing kisses down your throat, down the valley of your chest, but not without moving his tongue back and forth against each nipple at least a few times.

it makes you writhe, hands tangling in his sheets as he continues.

“jesus, chris.” you’re basically whimpering.

he stops right at the top of your leggings, looking up at you from between your thighs like he’s asking for permission.

you lift your hips as an answer, and he tugs the slick material down over your feet. the air hits you, and you can feel how embarrassingly ready you are.

chris lowers himself to you again, pushing your legs apart with both palms.

“you’re so pretty, ma. so fucking wet for me, too.” he mumbles, kissing and nipping at your hip, down your inner thigh, right next to where you need him most.

ma. he’s never called you that before, and you like it way more than you should.

without warning, he slides his tongue flat against your pussy in one long stripe. his lips come down around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against it slowly.

“holy shit—” you gasp, and your fingers tangle in his hair again, tugging at his roots as he buries his face further.

you’d been given head before, but it never actually felt good until now. chris’s fingers grip your thighs as he continues to force them apart, tongue moving up and down against your center at a faster pace now.

you can feel the pressure building, but you know you want more. you want to make him feel good too.

“oh my god baby.” the pet name slips out without even thinking, your head is so fuzzy with pleasure.

“fuck, call me that again.” he pulls away just enough to speak coherently.

“i need you inside me, baby, please.” you beg desperately.

“so ready for me, so eager.” he practically growls, sitting up so he can yank off his sweatpants, tugging his boxers down with them.

his dick is just as big as it felt, definitely the biggest you’ve seen in person, which is a little scary. he puts a hand to your mouth, turning your head to the side slightly.

“spit.”

fuck, this is hot.

you happily do as your told, and he pulls his hand back to spread it around his dick. his other arm goes to prop your one leg up as he aligns himself at your entrance.

chris pushes in slowly, and you both let out a long moan at the same time. you can feel him stretching you, and it takes a minute for you to adjust to his full length.

“fuck…” he says in that breathy voice you love so much.

he moves out, then back in, steadily picking up his pace as you get more comfortable. you have to give it to him, the kid knows how to use his hips.

“mmm…you feel so good around me,” chris grumbles, lifting your leg a little higher.

he hits a new spot, and it sends delicious waves of pleasure through your body.

“yes, right there!” your eyes screw shut, and his free hand goes to reach for your tits.

“fuck ma, i can feel you squeezing. taking it just like a good girl.”

such a pretty mouth saying such dirty things, things you didn’t think you’d ever in a million years hear from your friend. and yet, it feels exactly like it should.

he’s practically pounding into you now, and the little noises he makes drive you crazy. his free hand shifts so his thumb rubs against your clit, and you feel your core seize up.

“chris!” you cry out, and that damn smirk crosses his face again.

“tell em, angel. tell them exactly who you want.”

his fingers feel so good combined with his strokes, and this time the building pressure in your stomach is too much. you know you don’t have a lot longer left as your body begins to shudder.

“fuck, chris, i’m so close—”

“just a little longer, hang on for me.” he says, movements growing sloppier as he reaches his own peak.

his nails dig into the skin of your thigh, a bit of pain that is not unwelcomed. chris circles his other fingers around you faster, and you let out an even louder gasp.

“i’m—”

“fuck, me too. come on baby, come all over me.” he cuts you off, and you feel him twitch inside of you as he finishes with a groan.

“shit!” you ride out your own high, releasing onto his dick as he slows to a stop. you’re both completely breathless and sweaty as he pulls out, and you immediately feel at loss.

he leans down to give you a little peck before collapsing beside you.

“i’ve seriously dreamed about that so many times.” chris says, arm splayed across his chest as he stares into your eyes.

you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. “stop it.”

he’s quiet for a moment, and you peek through your fingers to look at him.

“you know this means more to me, right? you mean more to me.” he speaks softly, like he’s scared of how you’ll react.

you finally reveal yourself again, smiling more widely than you’d care to admit.

“good, cuz the feelings mutual.”

[hugz4hoon]

thunderstorms - p.s.h.

summary — sunghoon is not a huge fan of thunder...

pairing — bf!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre — fluff and extremely slight angst maybe?

wc — 984

a/n — omg first post so exciting!!! i literally wrote this for my writer's craft class when i was 17 and came across it again yesterday, so i figured i might as well post it here :D idek if anyone is gonna see this but might as well just drop it lolz if u see this, i hope you like it! :-)

It was a regular day, just another Friday night spent binging stupid movies. It happened to be raining today, with the thunder outside being so loud that the coffee table in front of you shook every time it struck. You and your boyfriend were both sprawled across the couch, with Sunghoon laying in your lap while the movie flashing across the screen drowned out the noise coming from outside. As the thunder struck again, you felt Sunghoon nuzzle into you a bit more as his dark hair tickled your chin. 

Weird, he’s not usually this affectionate. 

Although it caught you off guard, you let him come closer. 

“It’s a bit cold, don’t you think?” Sunghoon asked, his voice coming out muffled as his face was pressed against your chest. “I guess it is kind of chilly, why don’t we make some hot chocolate to warm up?” You asked with a cheeky grin. He looked up at you, his pink lips stretched into a tender smile. “Sounds good.” He then got up to start making the hot cocoa for the both of you.

While he was in the kitchen, thunder struck again. A loud shatter suddenly came from his direction, which caused you to whip your head towards him. You saw Sunghoon standing over a broken mug, glass scattered all over the floor. You quickly jumped off the couch and ran to him, cautiously avoiding the glass.

“Oh my god, Sunghoon! Are you okay? What happened?” You questioned, worry plastered all over your face. You searched his face for any emotion. Fear, shock, anger, anything that could explain what was going on, but you were met with a blank expression. Sunghoon’s deep brown orbs were unreadable as he kept staring at the broken mug until he looked up, and suddenly his eyes went back to normal. 

“Oh. The mug just slipped out of my hand, nothing else.” 

Not convinced, you questioned him again. 

“It just slipped?” You pressed, raising your brow.

“Yes, it just slipped,” he said sternly, avoiding your eyes. He faced you with a pointed expression on his face. “Whatever Y/N, can you just help me clean this up?” 

Weird, he seemed different from his usual calm self. Must be an off day, you thought, so you decided to shut your mouth and just help him clean the mess. Your hands brushed together as you carefully picked up the larger pieces of glass. Sunghoon’s hand felt cold and sweaty, and when you looked at it, you saw that it was shaking. Remembering that he felt cold earlier, you let it slide, as that was probably the cause. 

Stop overreacting, you thought to yourself as you continued to pick up the shards. After cleaning the glass, you finished up the hot chocolate together and went to sit back on the couch with your freshly made hot cocoa. While making the hot chocolate, Sunghoon seemed to calm down a bit, and whatever was bothering him seemed to disappear. Pleased that he was back to his normal self, you looked at him in relief. 

Then thunder struck again. 

“Fuck!”

You flinched as you heard him curse loudly. His black hoodie was soaked in hot chocolate. Sunghoon placed his now half-filled mug on the table, then stood up and threw his hoodie off. With a concerned look on your face, you looked up at him, who was now clad in just a T-shirt. “It’s okay Hoon, we’ll wash it—” “No, it’s not okay!” He interrupted. 

Now you’re starting to get pissed. Why is his temper so short today? Did you do something? “What is going on with you today, Sunghoon? You can tell me if you're upset with me about something, but I can’t keep tiptoeing around you—” Before you could finish your sentence, the loudest strike of thunder hit the ground, and you saw his whole body visibly flinch as his eyes widened for a second.

He’s afraid of thunder.

You promptly engulfed his larger body in an embrace as best as you could. After minutes of just holding him, you brought him back down to the couch to lay on you. “It’s okay, I’m right here.” You watched his stature start to shrink as he cuddled into you, moving further into your hold.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that you’re scared of thunder?” you asked him gently, while combing your fingers through his soft hair to calm him down. Sunghoon looked up at you with glossy eyes, then looked at the ground with a sigh. 

“Because it’s stupid and I didn’t want to bother you with it. I’m an adult, I’m not supposed to be afraid of a bit of thunder.” 

Your mind went blank after hearing the first sentence. It felt like someone dropped an anvil on your heart. He didn’t want to bother you? What? You held his chin to turn his face towards you and looked him in the eyes. “Listen to me. Nothing you say will ever bother me. I always want you to talk to me, and I always want to help you. But I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me. Okay?” Your serious eyes didn’t leave his teary ones the entire time you spoke to him. He slowly nodded his head. “Okay,” he answered in a broken whisper, “you’re right. I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry, baby. Just don’t hide it from me next time,” You pouted while poking him playfully. “I won’t, I promise,” he giggled shyly as you kept prodding at him. His soft, deep voice was like music to your ears. You scanned his features as he laughed—the way his eyes turned to crescents, his wide smile that exposes his fangs, his little dimples. He was perfection personified.

For the rest of the night, you stayed on the couch with cheesy rom-coms playing in the background, as you eventually fell asleep like that.

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

laughter like honey dribbles ◦ l.f

-an inexperienced Felix tries to impress you by forcing his voice deeper. What do you do when it cracks mid-through?

Paring◦ Lee Felix x Fem!Reader

Words◦ 1123

Genre ◦ The fluffiest smut you'll ever read, awkward sexual situations, realistic sex where life isn't all butterflies, orgasms, and rainbows.

Warnings ◦ Reader is described as having a vagina, laughter during sex, Felix being a big baby, embarrassment (what's new), ruined orgasm ig? Ngl i feel like half of this is just a bunch of me yapping and terrible punctuation (if you find any errors PLEASE let me know, thank you).

A/N ◦ This was the very first thing I've ever posted on my tumblr literally ever and so I'm going to be reuploading all of my stuff back onto this account 😃 so why not start off here

~CookieCreates🍪

You can feel him all around you, chest to chest, skin to skin, heart to heart. Your bodies melded together flawlessly, as though you were molded to fit into each other's arms, and, well, each others…

He pumps in and out of you ruthlessly, perfectly tipping you closer and closer to the edge.

“Please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his rutting hips, wanting him closer, harder, deeper,

Fuck.

“What do you want, baby?” He slams his hips harder into yours, prodding all the perfect places. You choke, a rush of pleasure vibrating through your bones. “Use your words.” He pants, nibbling on the soft skin of your neck, his voice deep and low, the seductive sultry tilt sends shivers up your spine and tingles to your core. 

“Say something, anything, your voice drives me crazy,” you whine, throwing your head back in bliss. A shrill moan rips from the back of your throat as you feel your orgasm quickly approaching, electric hands reaching out to you. You brush the tips of its fingers; trailing rings of fire seem to be tickling your skin, raging beneath your bones. 

So close.

So close.

So close.

You reach, all you need is,

“Good girl.” Felix doesn't know why he did it, forced his voice lower, deeper. At the time when ecstasy was rushing through his veins, it didn't seem like such a bad idea, until he went so deep it cracked.

He wants nothing more than for the earth to crack open and swallow him whole.

He stops.

You stop.

The world stops for a moment, and all you can see are his big, brown eyes blown wide with shock. The room is completely silent; the only thing being heard is the rough pounding of your hearts and the hard blinking of your eyes which seems like all you guys are able to do. You stay like that forever. Watching. Waiting. For one of you to take one for the team and cut through the growing tension in the room. You curl your lips into your teeth, breaking the awkward stand-off on whose either going to laugh their ass off or pretend that nothing happened and continue to fuck, but with your orgasm long forgotten and the previous raging heat of the room now dwindling to nothing more than a few flickering embers, the laughter that bubbles up in your throat is beginning to be too hard to contain.

Heat floods his cheeks as he blinks, still in this weird form of fight or flight mode. His muscles tense beneath your traveling fingertips, overcome with the humiliation that burns through his chest, and figuring no matter how much he's praying for the earth to swallow him up, Mother Nature is not coming to save him, so he shoves his face into the crook of your neck, hiding from your amused stare instead. 

“Baby,” you chuckle softly, sympathetically, the sound reminding him somewhat of delicate strings of honey that float through the air. Even with the regret coursing through his veins, the sound sticks to parts of his brain that only you are allowed to occupy, so basically, all of it.

He could sum up his life with you in one simple sentence: cotton candy kisses and laughter like honey dribbles. He groans, digging his face deeper into the soft skin of your neck, the same neck that's littered with the love bites he bestowed not even moments earlier.

Oh, how the world changes. 

You can't help the spree of giggles that spill from your mouth.

“Can you come out now, please?”

"No, I'm good. I think I'm going to live here, die here, eat here, sleep here. You might as well get comfortable, baby, cause I'm staying here for the rest of my life!” He says erratically, digging his face deeper into your skin.

“My dramatic baby,” you coo, running your fingers through his hair, still damp with sweat. Time seems to trickle by as soft bouts of breathing fill the air. The heat of his cheeks burns into your neck as you attempt to coddle him out of the embarrassed home he's made in your body.

"S'embarrassing,” he mumbles, voice muddled by the depth in which he has burrowed into your flesh.

“What was that, baby? I couldn't hear you from the home you've made in my neck.” You tease, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. He lifts his head, shooting you an equally playful but unamused glare. You have to push back the laughter that threatens to leave your lips as you take in his red cheeks and shy eyes. He looks so adorable and yet so sexy at the same time. You don't know if you want to jump his bones or bake him a batch of cookies. The best part is that you know you're going to be able to do both. You lift your eyebrows, sending him a look that states, "You have to admit that really was funny," which he reciprocates with a bashful smile, not quite meeting your eyes, giving you a look back that states, "I know it was funny, but right now I'm too embarrassed to say that currently."

That's what you loved about your relationship with Felix—you didn't always have to communicate with words. Your hearts did the talking for you.

“Come on,” you giggle, “you have to admit it was kind of funny.” He rolls his eyes, a wide smile creeping onto his face. "Yeah, I guess it was kind of funny.” 

You snicker, “Thank God, cause the laughter wasn't going to hold itself in for very long.” 

"Ugg, I hate you.” His words were as soft as silk, holding not even a centimeter of malice. He buries himself back into the permanent place he's made his home. 

“But I love you.” You whisper, your lips grazing the crown of his head, soft hairs tickling your chin.

You loved Felix, and he loved you, and even though the mood was ruined and hope for an orgasm was gone, you wouldn't trade it for the world. How could you when he was exactly that. Your world. 

“Okay, as much as I hate to say this, you can't live inside of me forever; my pH levels have to be screaming right now.”

When you were a girl and the coughs started coming, your mother used to give you honey in a spoon and a tickle to the stomach, telling you that laughter was the best medicine, but mixed with the slick amber liquid, your laughter would always sound like honey dribbles, the perfect cure, but with Felix, you never had to worry about being sick because laughter was all the two of you ever spoke.

©CookieCreates (posted: June, 2nd 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.

[swaps55]

Twin Souls of the Same Star

Funny, Kaidan thinks as they lie side by side, Shepard’s bare skin illuminated by the fishtank. They’d changed their lives just a few hours ago, assuming Joker actually filled out and filed the paperwork to the hanar and Alliance’s satisfaction.

And yet…everything feels exactly the same.

Shepard strokes Kaidan’s ring figure, then pinches it at the knuckle and examines it closely. “Guess I need to put a ring on this, lest anyone doubt that you are now bound to me by official legal documents. Er, at least as far as hanar law goes. Do we know how binding that little ceremony actually was?”

“Are you questioning the legitimacy of Joker’s ordination within the Enkindler Souls of Stars?” Kaidan asks, tugging his ankle free of the twisted sheet and draping it over Shepard’s leg. “Or are you asking about the return policy?”

Shepard kisses Kaidan’s knuckle and then tugs him until he straddles Shepard’s hips.

“Just try and renege and see what happens to you.”

Kaidan hides his flush behind a chuckle. Shepard pulls him in and traces the shell of Kaidan’s ear with his lips. Bastard. Not even fair to go straight for the ear.

“You’re stuck with me. I just want the entire galaxy to know.” 

No hiding the flush now. “Well, in that case. Don’t need a ring. I know your transponder code. Your baseline biometrics. Your service number. Your mnemonics.”

“Okay, so you know how to take me in a fight, sure.”

Kaidan trails his fingers lightly across Shepard’s belly, smiling in satisfaction when he yelps and nearly shoots out from underneath him.

“I know that.”

Shepard gives him a wary look. “Tickling is just a dirtier kind of warfare than bullets, in my book.”

Kaidan wiggles his fingers in tune with his eyebrows, but pins Shepard firmly in place when he attempts to flee.

“Point is,” Kaidans says between sloppy kisses against Shepard’s neck. “I’m pretty sure I can stake a pretty convincing claim to you without a trinket as proof.”

“Don’t know why I’m worrying. Pretty sure you’re the only one who would put up with me, anyway.”

Kaidan trails kisses down the line of Shepard’s shoulder. “Dunno. Have you seen how pretty you are?”

Shepard preens. “Maybe. But Liara says I’m very vexing.”

“Lucky for you, I like vexing.”

“See? Soulmates. The hanar say so. Joker’s head garment thingy looked very official.”

“If you’re really worried about it we could always hire a hanar to follow us around and tell people.”

Shepard sniggers into Kaidan’s shoulder, then adopts a solemn tone. “This one would like you to know that these two are bound soul stars in the eyes of the Enkindlers.” His eyes widen. “Oh god we cannot tell Javik.”

Kaidan barks a laugh, and Shepard grins.

“Well, we don’t have a hanar on board,” Shepard goes on. “Suppose we could just stick some tentacles on Garrus. No one will know.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.”

“He’ll think it’s funny.”

He probably would.

Kaidan rests his head on Shepard’s chest, sighing softly as Shepard runs fingers through his hair.

“Should I have taken your name or something?” Shepard asks eventually.

Kaidan’s heart does a somersault at the thought. Not something he’s ever thought about. Not something he’s ever even cared about. But the fact Shepard has…

He swallows. Shepard continues stroking his hair and just…lets him feel it for a minute.

“You married me,” Kaidan says after a moment.

“Yeah, I remember. I was there.”

“Other people saw it.”

“Pretty sure they remember, too. Joker’s hanar impression was very memorable.”

“Wow.”

Shepard chuckles. The sound rattles under his sternum, and Kaidan lets the feel of it wash through him. “So? Should I be Sam Alenko?”

Kaidan huffs. “Well, you hate being called Sam.”

Shepard ponders that for a moment. “Yeah, I guess it would be kind of weird if people started calling me Alenko, huh?”

“Yeah, that would be pretty weird. Thought’s pretty romantic, though.”

“I am so full of romantic gestures. Just you wait.”

“Mmmm,” Kaidan says with what he’s sure is a stupid grin. “I could take yours, I guess.”

Shepard makes a face. “Can you imagine you and me in the same room as my mother? No one will have any idea what the fuck to call us.”

“Okay,” Kaidan says with a laugh. “No name changes.”

“It’s the thought that counts.”

“Definitely.”

They drift off for a few minutes. Shepard’s hand stills, the weight of it on Kaidan’s head warm and comforting. Maybe Kaidan falls asleep. He’s not sure.

“Did you know we get tax benefits for being married?” Shepard asks, startling him awake.

Kaidan raises an eyebrow. “Did you read a manual or something?”

“Well, I can’t suck at this.”

Kaidan stifles a laugh against Shepard’s chest. “You know, Williams even told me once we should get married for the tax breaks.”

“Did she? Do you think she knew?”

“Of course she did.” Kaidan hoists himself up on an elbow to look him in the eye. “Everyone did. Except you. You thought I was into Williams.”

Shepard flashes him a guilty look. “She made you laugh all the time.”

“She was funny!”

“Yeah, but she was funnier than me and I didn’t like it.”

Kaidan raises an eyebrow. “And that didn’t…raise any flags for you.”

The guilty look gets guiltier. “Does it make it any better if I say that when people mistook us for a married couple I’d think to myself, ‘there are a lot worse things than spending the rest of my life with him?’”

“Really? Really?” Kaidan gooses him again, this time with a lot less mercy. Shepard yells indignantly and twists beneath him. They tussle until Shepard manages to trap Kaidan’s back against his chest.

“In my defense.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Hang on, I’m thinking.”

Kaidan laughs. “You realize that this exact line of thinking is what got us in trouble in Vancouver.”

 “Hey, I remember kissing you in the rain in Vancouver, so I think my line of thinking is pretty great, actually.” 

“Yeah,” Kaidan says softly, gripping his hand. “This is pretty great.”

Shepard rests a chin on Kaidan’s shoulder. “You were pretty pissed at me over the Williams thing. I thought I’d really fucked up.”

Kaidan strokes his arm. The memory of Williams still sits like a bruise, but it’s less tender to the touch than it used to be. “Think I was more angry at myself.”

“Why?”

“For being so in love with you and so unable to do anything with it. About it. I don’t know. You were never going to feel the same way and I just…couldn’t even try to get over the way I felt about you.”

“Seems like I wasn’t the only one who was dense,” Shepard murmurs in his ear. “Turns out I was, in fact, very, very into you the whole time.”

Kaidan smiles into the dim room.

“You know I reached out to Beaudoin after that to get his advice?” Shepard asks.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I thought I’d really fucked up, but I didn’t know why and Beaudoin, you know. Knew how to people a lot better than I do.”

“So you thought you’d fucked up your relationship with me, went to the only person we know with any reasonable insights on dating and romance, for advice, and that still didn’t trigger anything for you?”

“No.”

“You have saved the galaxy twice.”

“I contain multitudes.”

Kaidan snorts. “What did he say?”

“His message was one line and it was zero help. It said, ‘You’ll figure it out, I’ve got money on it.’ I had no fucking idea what he was talking about.”

Kaidan laughs softly into the pillow. “He and Aslany had a bet about us.”

“Wait….he knew too? Aslany knew?”

“Told you. Everyone.”

“Motherfucker.”

Kaidan tugs Shepard’s arm tighter around him, thinking of simpler days and places and times you can’t go back to. “Wish Beaudoin could have been here today.”

Shepard kisses the back of his neck. “Me too. Can you even imagine what he would have said about Joker’s ‘vestment?’”

“He would have loved us getting married by a human ordained through the hanar. And yeah, he would have fucking loved that vestment.”

“He really would have.” 

They lapse back into silence. It feels heavier this time.

Williams. Beaudoin. The Normandy. The ‘Yang. And there’s more to come. Kaidan feels it in his bones.

“We have a lot of history, don’t we?” Kaidan murmurs.

“Yeah, we do,” Shepard agrees. He wraps Kaidan up tight. “I want more. Think we made some today.”

“This one now pronounces you twin souls of the same star,” Kaidan intones.

“I like that part,” Shepard says, nuzzling his neck. “Even better than the vestments.”

Shepard has always shone brighter than any star, but Kaidan has always walked willingly and unflinchingly into that light. There’s never been another path. At least not that he wanted to take.

“Kiss me,” Kaidan says, the sudden need for it overwhelming.

Shepard rolls him over and obliges. It feels no different than it did a few hours ago: beautiful. It always has, with Shepard.

The kiss gets deeper. Shepard’s corona kindles, bright and flickering, a fire without heat that graces Kaidan’s nerves with a soft, sweet hum. Kaidan reaches into the gravity well and lights his own star, their auras blending together into one, solid glow.

We’ve always been this, Kaidan thinks as he falls headlong into Shepard’s embrace.

Now they just have the documents to prove it.