#the lighting didnt even need to be fixed

[nerdie-faerie]

Just when I think the day's going well, I crash a golf cart

[famewolf]

shout out, yet again, to my mechanic for being chill

[gothghostiie]

had brain worms and shared them with @pricegotmedickmatized last night and she fed into it and gave me ideas so now have to write for I am plagued by the demons

cw: age gap (20s/40s), some size difference, risky place, crying, fingering, orgasm denial(kinda), price talks about fisting, price is a pervert, reader is a virgin, fem!afab!reader

Its been a few years since Price had retired. some stupid injury, something with his knee that he didnt listen to when the doctor explained it to him - probably what got him to the point of being discharged in the first place. he does insist that he's fine, he could still work perfectly; he wants to feel useful still, like he's contributing to society in some way at least. it's been something he's had set in his head ever since his first divorce - he wasn't even contributing a family, so it had to be work until he found someone to carry his babies once again. but until then, he likes to help out the old couple next door.

they're sweet people, one of these couples that's still truly in love despite being married for longer than he's been on this planet, still saying I love you with a goodnight kiss. it's his dream to be like that with someone, once he finds someone as sweet as that cold couple he's gonna lock them down, sink his fangs into their neck and never let go again. his age is catching up and he's getting worried, nervous almost. he even tried dating apps but that was horrid - either the people don't text back or he goes on a few dates and ends up scaring them away. who can blame them when he asks how many kids they want on the third date? john sure blames them. it's not his fault that he's the way he is. it's not his fault that he's desperate to have a sweet thing to call his own again. to love and care about, to dote on and kiss all over, to fuck to sleep every night and every morning. it's really not his fault. really.

He's laid under the kitchen sink, flashlight propped up next to him as he's fixing a dripping pipe for them. the granny already had brought him lemonade and some cookies, watching with a soft sigh of relief when price comes up and gives her a warm smile with a thumbs up. "all fixed, love." he tells her, she beams. pats him on the arm and tells him what a good job he did, how thankful she is. sometimes he thinks the two of them just like having him around and don't actually need anything. but its whatever, he doesnt mind. especially not if theres cookies in it for him.

he's washing his hands when the front door opens. it just opens, no knocking, no doorbell. he turns his head in confusion, curious to see who's keys are jingling like that. his eyes light up when he sees you walk in with two bags of groceries; everything about you is perfect. your hair, your eyes, your lips that curve into a perfect little smile when the old lady greets you, the sundress and matching cardigan (he wonders if its handmade), the way you fill it out so perfectly, little earrings youre wearing - its perfect. youre perfect.

"Sweetie," she says with an almost excited tone, "this is John. hes the nice young man thats been helping us around the house, i told you about him." Price blushes a bit and reaches his hand out to you, you put your hand into his after putting the bags down, introducing yourself with a shy smile. "shes our granddaughter." your grandma adds proudly, she loves gushing about you. "shes such a sweet, nice girl, always bringing us what we need and helping keep things clean around here. smart as a whip too!" your face heats up, john chuckles.

"charmed.." he says in a low hum, giving you a wink. you look so innocent, so sweet and shy, it's almost too good. your grandma pats you on the arm and goes back to the living room where your grandpa sits, waiting for her to come watch their show with him, leaving the two of you alone. John sits down on one the chairs, arms crossed as he watches you fuss around the kitchen to put away the groceries. he watches you closely, the slight sway in your hips, the little bounce of your tits, the way your dress rides up your thighs when you put things into the upper cabinets - and all he can imagine is sitting you up on the counter, folding you in half and putting a baby into you. he just knows you'd look so good, fat and round with his baby. he knows he'll have to prove it too.

watches you put the rest of the groceries into the fridge right next to him, that's when he pounces. leans over and slips his big, calloused hand under your dress - before you can even react to the fabric being lifted he's already got his hand on your pussy, cupping it with a firm squeeze. It makes you gasp, your knees buckle slightly, one hand gripping the fridge tightly as your mouth falls open. you want to say something, to tell him to get his dirty hands off of you - but his finger find your clit through the fabric and presses down slightly, his palm pressing against your lips more firmly. his touch isn't like what you're used to; the boys your age have always touched you so differently. they were always too fast, trying to get what they want too quick, touching you like they're just guessing what they're doing or not even paying attention - it's the reason you never let any of them get any further than your panties.

but John?

John's touch is different. his touch feels good. it feels secure, like he knows what he's doing, like he knows just how to touch you, like he's confident you'll like what hes doing. the mere way he touches you makes your brain melt, makes your pussy wet. he chuckles softly, rubbing small circles on your nub as he speaks quietly. "feels good, doesnt it?" he muses, squeezing your cunt a bit tighter - enough to make you snap out of your trance and push your hips back against him. the subtle movement makes him laugh, shaking his head. "thought so.." his fingers work you gently, slowly, agonisingly. you're not one to just take what you want, but maybe just this once?

you push your hips back more, just for him to pull away a bit, easing up the friction; and it makes you whine in frustration - loudly. you don't know what's gotten into you, you don't know why his touch makes you so wet, so loud, so desperate. desperate enough to forget your grandparents are in the next room over, to forget to keep quiet. lucky for you, John is here to think for you right now. he quickly pulls his hand away and stands up, muffling your protest with a strong hand clasping over your mouth. your eyes widen as you feel him shut you up, as you feel his big, burly body press against your back, his hips agaisnt your lower back. "shh.. 's alright, honey.." his other hand finds purchase on your hip, starting to pull up the fabric of your dress once again. "sorry doll. gotta get a good look at the goods before I buy them. you'll let me, won't you?" he chuckles as you squirm. "I'll make it worth your while, don't you worry."

his hand slips from your hip to your pussy once again, this time from the front. fingers graze the damp fabric of your underwear, making him chuckle. "jesus.. these are soaked." he shakes his head, pressing down briefly before hooking his fingers into the sticky fabric, pulling it aside. he watches closely, putting his chin down on your shoulder for quick access to the soft skin of your neck. he watches himself free your cunt and groans at the sight.

Your untouched little pussy. She's gorgeous, slightly swollen and wet, eager for his touch. "look at her.. she's so wet.." he grins, fingers dipping between your lips and immediately coating in your slick. "shes all wet." he murmurs, rubbing back and forth slowly, getting a good feel for her. your clit twitches almost in excitement, your tight hole clenching despite him not evening touching it yet, your sweet slick spreading and making it easy for him to slip two fingers inside you with a soft grunt. your eyes widen, body tensing slightly, a whimper gets muffled by his hand on your mouth. "Fucking hell.." he mutters softly, curling his fingers against your sweet spot - you immediately become putty in his arms. it's a foreign feeling, it feels so different from your own, much smaller fingers. his fingers are long and thick, two of them already slightly stretching you out, making your eyes roll back in your head with the precision of his movements.

"you should go help them, Sweetie."

"what a pretty girl.." he croons, making your face heat up - but he's not talking to you. he's talking to your pussy. "she's bloody tight too.." he mutters quietly, his voice strained with a mild effort. marvels at the way it flutters and twitches around his fingers. "you been neglecting her? not giving her what she needs?" he scoffs softly, a weird sense of guilt washes over you, you don't quite understand it. "poor thing.. needs someone else to take care of her.." he slips another finger in, making you gasp, the stretch burning slightly. It makes tears prick at your eyes. "look at how tight she is, I'm only three fingers in.." he scoffs softly, his wrist jerking upwards. "how's she supposed to take my cock, huh?" the words make your eyes widen. "gonna have to get her ready..."

his palm presses against your clit, rubbing it with every little movement his hand makes, with every little twitch of your hips - with every desperate try to ride his fingers even just a bit. his teeth find your neck and bite at it gently, not even leaving a mark, just enough to make you flinch at it - god he's enjoying this. the boner pressing against your back is more than enough proof that he is, if the way he was panting into you didn't already tell you everything you need to know. but he doesn't stop there. of course he doesn't. another thick finger squeezes it's way inside your poor, full pussy, stretching you more than you thought just one finger more could. a wave of slight pain curses through you, the burn holding on as you clench around his fingers that only use your own arousal as lube. a few stray tears start running down your cheeks.

"Have to work her open.." he whispers against your skin, leaning his hear up to kiss the tears away. his fingers wiggle slowly, like he's done this a thousand times and knows how it's done, like its muscle memory to work a tight cunt open for him. "gonna have to feed her my whole hand just so she can take my cock.." the thought makes your stomach tighten. you've never had anything that big inside you, hell, you've never even thought about something that big inside you. a slight fear curses through your body, making you tense up, he chuckles. his hand presses onto your mouth harder, the thumb rubbing your skin soothingly as he pushes his fingers upwards; making your body jolt with a cry. "you'll let me do that, won't you?"

despite yourself you nod. you nod and whimper, your hips moving as if they have a mind of their own, trying to fuck yourself on his thick fingers. even when you feel his thumb graze your stretched hole, the fear gets eaten up by the promise of pleasure that you know will ruin you for ever, for any other man that may get his hands on you.

"good girl.." he croons - and then let's go. he steps back and sits back down in the chair, reaching over to pull your dress down. you look shocked, frozen for a moment, mouth hanging open as your pussy gets left gaping and empty, dripping down your trembling thighs. you turn around to yell at him, scream at him, hit him - but just as you do your grandpa enters the kitchen with a smile, non the wiser.

"Sweetie, could you come help your grandma and me with the TV?" he asks. you nod. its all you can do. your grandpa nods in acknowledgement and walks to the living room, expecting you to follow. you glance back at price - and he just sits there, hiding his smile behind the same hand that's just been inside you, winking at you.

[hey-sparcs]

ive seen no one else address it and its driving me crazy. in he space between ootw chorus and bridge, WHY did taylor add 3 drumbeats?!

[potchi-fics]

note: amab caitlyn. contains overstimulation, breeding kink, and jealous cait yummy. ang sarap niya fuckkkk sarap sarap sarap ALSO I DIDNT REALIZE THIS WAS SO LONG (not proofread. and i kid you not, my google docs crashed THREE TIMES while i was writing this. this is my new years present to yall--2024 may be down but cait's dick is up)

“darling, you know we have to go out in thirty minutes,” caitlyn’s distant voice called out from your closet.

you’re currently doing up your make-up in front of the mirror, doing finishing touches, “yeah, i know, baby. i’m about to be done. how about you?”

      you see her come out of the room, whistling when you see her outfit, it’s an all-black outfit: jacket with a black button-up, trousers, and loafers. simple yet elegant. she walks towards you while fixing the cuffs of her button-up.

“you look absolutely beautiful, darling,” her arms snake around your hips, kissing the side of your neck, “do we have to go?”

just in time to finish your make-up, a giggle escapes your lips, and you turn around to face her, your own wrapping around her neck, “you look gorgeous, baby. and you, house kiramman, are the ones hosting the gala, stupid.”

      she gives you a tight-lipped smile, her eyes squinting for a second but you see it, she doesn’t want to go. you gently pull her down, how she grew so much is still a mystery to you.

“it’ll be done before you know it,” you peck her lips, your lipstick leaving its mark on her—you rub it away tenderly, “come on, honey. we are gonna be late.” your kisses seemed to repeat, enunciating every word with a kiss.

caitlyn hums in content, her eyes closing, “you do realize your lipstick is fading the more you kiss me, right?”

“i’ll retouch in the car.”

…

      the gala is everything you expected: formal, rich people. you step into the venue and you immediately spot mrs. kiramman and her husband.

she hugs you, “i’m glad you two are able to make it.” she makes her way to her daughter, “surprised you’re here, can’t seem to pull you away from your work.”

“good thing i’m here, mrs. kiramman,” an arm wraps around your waist, kissing the top of your head, “caitlyn here is married to her work, i swear. and here i thought i was gonna be married to her first.”

“i am not married to my work.” caitlyn grumbles, sticking closer to you. “i am a very busy woman, is all.”

      you two converse with her parents for a while before an attending guest invited himself in your little party, taking away the older couple. that leaves the two of you alone. you grab a champagnes, offering caitlyn a glass. 

for about an hour or two, you two got separated, engaging other people. you give caitlyn a smile, who is on the other side of the room when you catch her gaze. she’s been watching you occasionally, keeping an eye on you.

and she doesn’t miss how a woman is trying to hit on you. of course, you’re oblivious to it. caitlyn’s eyes glint dangerously under the light, her teeth grinding when she sees the woman touch your arm, lingering for someone who’s supposed to be a stranger, undressing you with her eyes, and even going as far as touching your back, it barely made contact, but still. and that’s enough for her to down her champagne, make a beeline for to you, her strides strong and wide.

“oh, and this is my partner, caitlyn kiramman,” caitlyn rightfully takes her spot beside you, squeezing herself in between you and the stranger, “hi, honey.”

“hello,” she gives your little crowd a charming smile, though it holds a little bit of malice. she pulls you closer to her, “i may need to steal her away. we have some business to attend to, i’m afraid so.”

      without giving you a chance to talk, you two walk away—you’re glad though, you are tired of their stuffy personalities. a confused expression takes over your face when caitlyn leads you outside of the venue, leading you to a hallway and going through door after door.

your gaze observes the room, and you assume that the two of you are very far away from the party. she locks the door, unbottons her jacket, taking it off, and throws it on a couch.

“cait, where are w–”

      you didn’t get to finish your question because her lips were on yours the moment you spoke, her hand going on the side of your neck, fingers softly digging themselves into your skin to tilt your head up, deepening the kiss. 

you whimper when you feel her tongue take a swipe on your lips, asking you to open your mouth and you do. her tongue slithers in, licking every part of your mouth. she is demanding, yearning—like she wants all of you.

her knee presses between your legs, you let out a whimper of pleasure, grounding yourself on her thigh, your hands clutching the fabric of her shirt. 

“grind yourself on my leg, darling.” she pulls away to say, her voice deep and husky, “i’m waiting.”

      you’ve never been so happy to wear a side-slit dress. thanks to the access, you’re able to grind on caitlyn’s leg, rubbing your clothed pussy; the numb pleasure takes over your mind, caitlyn’s adding to your pleasure by leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck, collarbone, lips, everywhere her lips could reach.

your hips stutter, and your clit going sensitive—it’s maddening, you need more. but caitlyn won’t give it to you, not yet. you let out a gasp, burying your head on her shoulder, the pleasure slowly taking over your whole being; it’s as if your body is on fire. 

you start to feel lightheaded. desperate for more, you grab your hand, leading it under your dress, your other tugging it higher, a flush creeping up your neck at the thought of doing this outside your home.

“hmm?” caitlyn knows how to make you beg, she resists your movements, throwing a teasing smile your way, “what is it you want, my love? i’m gonna need you to say what you want.”

you narrow your eyes at her, your gaze betraying the frustration you try to keep at bay, “honey, you dragged me here. take responsibility.”

“of course, darling.” caitlyn clutches a handful of your dress, crumpling it as she pulls it higher to expose your lower body. she removes herself from you and kneels, her hand gripping your undergarments, yanking it down in a rough, deliberate motion, taking it off of you. “i’ll take responsibility.”

      she puts one leg over her shoulder, caitlyn looking up at you as she takes one lick at your awaiting cunt, studying how close your eyes, head tilting back against the wall; watching how you stifled a gasp, but a faint sound slips through. 

desire coursed through her, undeniable and all-consuming—she went harder, deeper, sinking further into you, her nose bumping with your clit. your hands dart down, gripping her hair with desperation and need. she flattens her tongue for you, and you take that chance to grind your hips. you can feel yourself dripping, it’s beginning to travel down your legs. 

a low hum of satisfaction reverbed around the room, sending vibrations on your cunt—caitlyn is loving every second of this. knowing that only she can see you break down like this. her dick is begging to be let out.

you push her away, your breaths coming in short pants, and due to her being caught off-guard, she fell on her backside, staring up at you wildly. in an instant, you’re on your knees, crawling to where she is, coming between her legs.

your fingers fumble with the button of her trousers, pulling it down along with her undergarments, setting her weeping cock free. 

“care to explain what’s going on here, caitlyn?” there’s huskiness to your voice, smooth yet commanding—your hands wrap themselves around the base of her cock, your mouth going dangerously near it, “go on then.”

caitlyn speaks the words, but her eyes give her away, “nothing is going on.”

“try again, baby.” you kiss her tip, a flinch is what you get from her. you continue to kiss everywhere: her dick, her thighs, her abdomen, her navel.

only did she speak when her lower body is covered in lipstick kisses, and she’s left throbbing in need. she grits out, “blame that woman. she was too touchy.”

“oh?” she lets out a groan of frustration, leaning back on her elbows, throwing her head back, and closing her eyes, “jealous?”

“i don’t get jealo–”

“then allow me to assure you.”

      you take her dick inside your mouth, inches after inches going down your throat, and all she can do is watch you take it. a guttural moan escapes her lips, her hips slightly lifting off of the ground—you close your eyes when you feel her go even deeper.

for a second, you stay there, deepthroating caitlyn, your nose buried in her neat patch of tamed hair, shaking your head ever so lightly; caitlyn loves it when you do that and she gives you a growl of appreciation.

she grabs your head, her other palm lying flat on the floor as leverage, and her hips take off. caitlyn’s eyes are unfocused, a distant haze clouding them as she soaks in the sight of you happily taking it.

“you love this, don’t– fuck, don’t you?” she murmurs. “always such a good girl for me.”

      to answer her question, you swallow around her, the motion made her falter, breaking her rhythm. your hands pressed firmly against her hips, keeping her down—you pull up, sucking only the tip, eyes meeting, and then slowly going back down.

“all the way to the base for me, darling,” she gently pushes your head to guide you, her cock twitching when your nose meets with her hair once again, “there you go. good girl. i’m close.”

you come back up suddenly, maneuvering yourself to straddle her hips, your hand darting down to lead her inside of you, “not yet.”

caitlyn grits out the words through clenched teeth, “it’ll be difficult in this position, darling.” she places her hands under your knees, your hands shooting out to wrap around her neck as she stands up.

      you feel the wall on your back, she drops one leg, keeping one leg lifted. the groans that leave you both as she enters you are raw, eyes fluttering close. god, she just keeps on sliding inside of you, you swear she’s kissing your cervix. 

caitlyn withdrew slowly, then returned in, taking her time with every inch. your hand comes down to cover your mouth, you’re still in public, after all. and caitlyn notices. a sudden slam of her hips made you let out a soft moan, but barely audible.

her relentless harsh thrusts never let up. caitlyn feels so good, you feel so good around her, you squeeze her so good; your whimpers, your ragged breaths hitting her throat, mewling out her name like a broken record every time the head of her gushing dick of precum hits your spot, it’s all too much for her. her head drops down to your shoulder as she cums—the wave of sudden warmth filling you taking you by surprise, your eyes unfocusing, tightening around her cock. 

by the time she’s done filling you up, she’s still moving her hips, pushing through her sensitivity. she needs this. she needs you.

she puts down your leg, turning you around, not pulling out of you. with your palms on the wall, her hands find your hips, holding it with a bruising grip, each slam of her hips on your backside sending you forward.

“only i could touch you like that, my love,” her frustration seeps through her thrusts, the claps of your hips mixing with your broken moans, “who does she think she is.”

      your knees buckle, but thanks to her strength, she holds you up. she may look lanky due to her height and weight, but she’s pure muscle. you grip her wrist, unable to form words because how could you when you feel her deep inside your gut, when you feel your slick trailing down your leg, making a mess on the floor, or simply the feeling of her cock going in and out of you.

your orgasm comes out of nowhere, catching you and her off-guard, your body shudders in pleasure, shaking and spasming, triggering another one from caitlyn. she bends down, groaning in your nape as she fills you again.

her thrusts transition into lazy ones as you ride out your orgasms. you nuzzle your cheek against her head, your throat beginning to sore, swallowing with difficulty. 

she pulls out of you, letting you two slide down the floor. you take this chance to lie on your back, your legs shivering, your forearm covering your sweaty face. you feel her firm but gentle touch on your legs.

her hands are back on the back of your knees again, forcing them up until you’re nearly folded in half, further ruining your dress, “one more.”

      she slides her cock in, your eyes rolling back in pleasure at the new angle—she is much deeper in this position. she feels your cunt flutter, pulling her in if that’s even possible. 

she begins her ruthless pace again, your breasts bouncing in your dress with the force of her thrust, determined to fill you up, to cum inside of you again and again. the pleasure is drowning you, whimpering when she hits your spot, then abusing it over and over and over again. you lift your head to see her dick disappear inside your sopping sensitive cunt, and to listen to the wet noises every time caitlyn thrusts back in you.

she wasn’t much better than you—her ruthless pace is becoming sloppy, uncoordinated, chasing her own high. her choked moans, breathy sighs as you milk her, feeds your ego.

you don’t make a sound when you cum for the second time, only the fluttering of your pussy makes it known. caitlyn doubles her effort by circling your clit, effectively intensifying your orgasm. only did she allow herself to cum when your fingers dig into her sides. 

she forces her dick in you, going deeper than ever before. the spurts of her gushing dick emit a soft sigh from you, she presses her face into your neck as she lets go of your legs. you hold her, playing with the hairs on the back of her head, not letting go until she’s done filling you up.

“fuck, cait, are you trying to get me pregnant or what.” you allow your limbs to relax, and you feel her cum drip down out of you. you’re sweaty and sticky all over, your throat sore, ears ringing, legs are shaking, pussy filled with her cum, eyes still unfocused, “you are an animal, honey.”

      you feel her kiss your jaw, her breaths still ragged, hitting your neck. you both moan as she pulls out, your face burns at the sight of her creamy cock, still twitching, and dripping with cum.

she sits back and leans on the wall, hissing when she grabbed the base of her dick. your whole body is screaming at you to lie down, however, you crawl again to her, sitting next to her. her eyes close shut and she lets her head fall on top of your head.

taking this chance, you wrap your hands around her softening dick; she reacts quickly, her fingers gripping your wrist.

“ah-ah. hands off, honey.” you pull your hand off your wrist. slowly, you jerk her off, swiping your thumb over her head, “just one more.”

      you let a mischievous smirk form when you see her face contort into pain and pleasure, the sensitivity becoming too much for her.

you pump your hand, relishing every time her cock twitches in your hand, every time her hips try to pull away from your hand. you see her hands form a fist, this must be painful for her.

“i did say i’ll assure you, didn’t i?” you kiss her cheek, your mouth lingering on it, “can you cum for me again?”

caitlyn’s hips start to subtly thrust up to meet your pumps, she feels your every touch, every line on your hands. her mouth hands open, her eyes remain closed, she’s pulsing in your hand.

“you’re the only person i touch like this, cailtyn.” your breath hitting her ears adds to her pleasure that is spreading all over her body. “yeah? just like this?” 

“da-darling,” caitlyn gasps out, “too sen-sensitive.” you grip harder, pump harder, “please, i can’t anymo-more.” 

      her back arches off the wall, eyes opening suddenly when she feels you take her tip in your mouth, sucking her like candy. she makes an attempt at pulling her hips back but it’s no use. it hurts. It hurts so good.

you hollow your cheeks, your hand following your mouth as your slurp, gag, and suck. caitlyn doesn’t know what to do, it’s too much for her—the burning pleasure on her cock. yet she yearns to cum.

you go back up for air, taking her tip in, not giving her a break, and your hand pumps the remaining inches. “go-gonna cum, darling–”

      without letting her speak, you quickly push her in you, smiling when you feel her cum inside of you again. she wraps her arms around your torso, grounding you unto her dick as she thrusts up, her cum painting your walls white again.

she muffles her groans using your chest, hugging you so tightly, that her muscles are flexing under her clothes. a sigh of contentment leaves you when she stops rocking her hips up, her dick softening inside of you.

“still jealous?” her breaths were ragged, coming in short gasps as she tried to steady herself. “come back to me, cait.”

oh, you done broke her.

[mysicklove]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐃

DAY 16: PILLOW HUMPING + PHONE SEX

With: Tamaki Amajiki

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Sub! Top! Tamaki, bottom! gn! reader, praise kink, slight breeding kink, reader is a slight tease and tamaki is trying not to pass out from embaressment, fantasies, creampie in fantasy Y/N? does that need a tag?

A/N: another fic i STRUGGLED with. idk whyyyy.

Tamaki knows he shouldn't be doing this. He knows that if anyone ever saw him, he would be deemed a weirdo, a pervert, really. But it was just so hard. 

It's not fair that you left him alone. Its not fair that you made him miss you until his heart ached. It's not fair that you havent touched him in longer than three weeks. Its not fair that he is here, straddling a pillow, while you probably aren't even thinking of him at all.

The whole thing makes him fume red. Humping a pillow was as desperate as it gets. His hand wasnt doing it for him anymore, he needs to move his hips, pretend he is fucking something. It was bound to give him more satisfaction. Or he hoped it did, but it doesnt change the fact that it was embarrassing.

The pillow was soft, but sturdy, and held a bit of stability. It wouldn't crumble against the sheets with each thrust, nor be too feathery to really feel anything. A good pillow – it will work fine.

He wears one of your shirts. An oversized one, that seems to drown him with the fabric. It smelled like you, and he has to refrain from pressing the collar of it against his nose. It would only turn him on more, and thats not what he needed right now.

Tamaki's hands tremble as he adjusts himself. He flips the hem of your shirt upward to give himself a view of his thin cock. Its red, and pulsing, ready for him to begin moving. He brings his hands up to his face, covering it with the back of his palm. “So embarrassing,” He whines into the empty room, but not moving from his position on top of the pillow.

He stables himself, and then very hesitantly drags his hips forward. The bottom of his dick grazes against the pillow and he takes a deep breath. Its soft, slightly cold from the lack of human contact with it, but he doesnt mind warming it up. He grinds himself forward again, his two hands gripping at the front of the pillow to slightly pull it up, giving him more area to brush himself on.

He whimpers, closing his eyes and falling into a steady pace. It's not as pleasurable as he wanted it to be, and it was driving him insane. But he liked the feeling of riding something, and he pretended the pillow was you. The thought spurs him on, and his pace begins to pick up. The movements of his hips are short, quick, and he slightly bounces on it. Tamakis breath becomes short, and he sighs into the open air, throwing his head back and humping whatever surface of the soft fabric he could. 

A couple minutes go by and he was on the verge of crying from frustration. It barely made him feel any better, and he was going to have to be here for awhile if he wanted to cum. He grabs onto your shirt and brings it up to his nose, inhaling your scent and groaning into the fabric. It made him feel a bit better.

Suddenly, he hears the familiar vibrations from his phone. He was getting a call, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk to someone. But, he wasn't one to ignore something that could be important. So, he leans forward and flips over the phone. When he sees your name with an abundance of heart emojis that you typed in for your own contant info, his eyes light up.

He inches toward the answer button, but pauses for a second, realizing the position he is in. It was definitely not appropriate to talk to you like this, but he wanted desperately to hear your voice. It was gross and pathetic, but didnt you say you like when he acts pathetic? Besides, you could definitely fix his problem. You know exactly what to do to make him feel good.

So he answers the phone, and waits for you to speak. 

“Hey love,” You hum through his phone, and he almost whines out from that alone. He glances back down at his cock, a glob of precum dripping down pathetically onto the pillow. He covers his face in embarrassment.

“Hi Y/N,” He mumbles into the mic, staring at his fingers, and doing anything he can to ignore his cock. He wants to ask you for help, but how? Even after all this time of being together, he has never voiced his sexual wants and needs. It was just too hard to, and besides you always seemed to find out his desires one way or another.

“Whatcha up to?”

Tamaki pauses. Lying was definitely not one of his specialties, and to you? He was a goner for sure. He goes silent for longer than 30 seconds. “Tamaki?”

“Something I shouldn't be doing,” He whispers, falling forward to rest his cheek on the mattress. He still lays straddling the pillow, but now his cock was trapped between his stomach, and the pillow. 

A slight giggle comes from the phone, and he gulps, ignoring the way his dick twitches. “Are you doing something naughty?”

Naughty. Such a childish word, but it was the perfect adjective to describe his situation. It made him feel small, and strangely it brought comfort to him. He nods into the mattress, his hips moving without his permission, and continuing their grinding movements.

“You've gotta speak up for me, love.”

He may be shy, but he would never dare to not listen to a command. “Yes. Sorry.” 

“Yes what?”

He lets out a small whimper, barely audible over the phone. “‘m doing something…naughty.”

The dark haired boy squirms on the bed, listening to the way you inhale sharply. His hands begin to travel downward, but he stops himself before he could start stroking himself off. “What are you doing, love?”

He goes silent for a couple seconds, and he continues to shift around the bed. He gulps and looks down at his leaking cock, and then away. “I’m….I’m humping a…pillow?”

You let out a dramatic, slightly teasing gasp. “So dirty, Tamaki!”

He wants to curl up into a ball and die from embarrassment. He knows you are just poking fun at him, but truly everything about this was so humiliating. “I-I know! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just miss you so much!” He warbles into the mic, wiping away a stray tear before it could fall.

He was so unbelievably cute, and his plea made your heart throb. “S’alright, relax, love. I miss you so much. So so much,” You reassure, closing your eyes to listen to his breathing. ‘

You hear a sniffle on the other end of the phone. “Why are you crying?”

You expected to hear a response declaring how much he missed seeing you, or having you around. Or maybe how lonely he felt. What you didn't expect was for him to say, “‘m not crying! Im frustrated because I cant cum!”

Tamaki being blunt about his needs was unheard of, and the shock of it made you bark a laugh. He shakes his head into the mattress, but begins his humping again. You already knew at this point what he was doing, and he was already as embarrassed as it gets, so he rather search for more pleasure than wither is his own misery. 

“Well are you doing it right?”

He pauses his movements. Was there a right or wrong way to do it? His horny brain was screaming at him to just get any sort of friction from the white item, but was there a better way to do it? To feel more pleasurable? “I-I dont know…”

“Aren't you pretending that I'm the pillow?” Your words make him yelp, and you hold back a snicker. You were right of course, but the fact that you knew about it made him want to dig himself a hole to hide in.

But nevertheless, his hips havent stopped their movements. Its a slow pace, just enough to make his breaths heavier. “Yeah,” He breathes into the mic, so quite that you almost missed it.

You hum to yourself, hand traveling over your own body to get yourself in the mood. “Then you need a hole to fuck, dont you, pretty boy?”

The statement causes him to lose his breath and he can't think quick enough to find a response. You continue on, “Put two pillows together so that you can get friction on both sides of your pretty little cock. It will feel so much better,” You encourage, and his eyes instantly travel to the extra pillow just inches away from him. He gulps, but grabs onto it, and places it under his lower stomach and on top of his dick.

“N-Now what?”

“It's not rocket science, silly. Fuck it now. But make sure to keep the pillow beneath your stomach, so that the hole is tighter.”

He blushes at his stupid words, but instead focuses on your advice. He pulls out, and then pushes himself back into the two soft cushions. He groans out, and sets the phone on speaker and places it next to his face. This was way better, and he needed to focus.

You hear his breaths get quicker and you smile. “There ya are. Does it feel better, Tamaki?”

He uses his hands to push the pillows together, creating a even smaller hole. But he nods at your words, staring at your profile picture with tears in his eyes. “W-Wish it was you. Not as tight…Warm.”

You hands travel toward your pants at the words. “Yeah? Use your imagination, love. Pretend that's me, what do you want to do with me?”

His whole body caves over on himself, and he bucks his hips frantically. His face is a bright shade of pink, and he wears a wobbly, but content smile. “Wanna—Wanna….You to tell me what to do,” He whines out, fingers dragging along the beds sheets, wishing it was your back.

You snicker at him, not surprised by his words. “You are hopeless, Tamaki. So submissive, its so cute, you know that? You know how cute you are?”

He covers his face with his arm, moaning and whining into the soft skin. “Stop it…” He mumbles half heartedly, loving every drop of praise from your mouth.

“You love it,” You tease, and he secretly nods into the bedsheets, but not daring to tell you. “Alright, let's have you cum, hmm? Can you close your eyes for me?”

His eyes flutter shut before you could even finish your sentence. “‘kay.” 

“Good job,” You murmur, and he gulps, nuzzling his face into the bed, pretending it’s your chest. “Now move your hips for me. In and out, yeah?.”

He doesn’t have to do much, considering that he has been doing this exact same movement for the past couple minutes now. He doesn’t say anything, afraid you may poke fun at him again. “Tamakiiiii,” You purr, “I need to hear a response.”

“Sorry. Yes, yes, I‘m doing it. Promise!” He splutters, trying to maintain a steady pace of breathing. It was feeling so much better with both sides hugging him, but your voice was definitely helping as well.

You let out a breath, and smile. “Good boy. Now, tell me, what are you imagining. Wanna hear the specifics, love.”

He whines at this. He didnt want to expose his thoughts; you would definitely think he was weird. A pervert who cant go a couple weeks without cumming. “Nooooo,” He whimpers, eyes still shut. “So embarrassing.”

Your voice turns commanding in an instant. “Oh? Stop moving then.”

Unwillingly he listens, his body so used to listening to your commands, that he doesn't even process what you said until he stopped his hips. He groans into the sheets, and feels his cock twitch within the pillows. It doesn't want to stop. “Noooo,” He complains once more, hating the way tears begin to build up, and threaten to spill over his closed eyes.

Your heart throbs at the small whimpers he lets out, and your strict tone seems to melt away. “You have to listen if you want to cum, baby. I know its embarrassing, but I want you to feel good. Dont be shy, I won't judge you.”

You hear a sniffle from the other end of the phone. “Okay. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. C-Can I move now? I'll tell you my…my fantasy.” 

You hum encouragingly at him, and he takes it as a yes, slowly beginning to move his hips again. He sighs at the softness, nodding his head to himself. But, he doesn't get too lost in his pleasure, he has to hold up the end of the bargain. “I-Im pretended the pillow is you.”

You roll your eyes slightly, a grin on your face. He was obviously nervous if he was stating the obvious. “Yeah? Are you fucking me nice and hard?”

Your words are so lewd and he fumes red at them. “U-Um…Yeah. Y-You feel so good.” Referring to the makeshift hole as you, makes him feel slightly bad. He knows you are may more than that to him. But it was obvious that you were trying to initiate some sort of phone sex, and he didn't want to ruin the moment.

Your fingers travel down to your pants, and you finally get comfortable. You begin to touch yourself, trying to imagine yourself into his fantasy. “So deep Tamaki,” You purr, sighing into the mic.

His eyes widen for a split second, but he quickly shuts them again. At your words, he finds himself thrusting himself deeper into the hole, mewling out as pre covers the soft fabric. He finds himself imagining you beneath him, grinning up at him with a flushed out, but cocky grin. 

“Fuck,” He whispers gently to the image of you. “I missed you so much. So so much.”

“Missed you too,” You murmur, throwing your head back slightly. “Doing so well for me.”

His hips stutters at the praise, and he gulps. Whenever you praise him, it sends his head spinning, and he loves it more than anything. “F-For you. Only for you!”

The position he was in was so lewd. His mouth slightly gnawing on his hand, his hips thrusting into two pillows, and his body a bright shade of pink. The bed was even creaking from his intense movements, but he didnt seem to care. “P-Praise me…More, please?”

“You're doing so good. Making me feel so good, Tamaki. Are you going to make me cum?”

He nods his head frantically, loving the idea more than anything. To make himself cum was one thing, but making you feel good enough to cum was a whole other thing. It made the service sub in him preen, and his thrusts are more desperate now. He imagines you shivering, and moaning into his neck, maybe even leaving scratch marks down his back. “Yes. Yes, I'll make you cum. I'll make you feel so good, please!”

You smile lazily at the wall. “Such a good boy. I'm so lucky to have such a pretty and obedient boyfriend.”

A wobbly smile is tugging at his face, and he feels like a schoolgirl. Giddy, and nervous around you and your voice. He swears the fantasy becomes more surreal. The pillow seems to be hugging him just how you would, and in the back of his mind he can hear the slapping of skin upon skin. “I love you. I love you so much, you feel so good. I can't hold it much longer!”

“Aw are you going to cum already?” You tease, feeling your own high approaching rapidly.

At the words he lets out a dramatic whine, feeling guilty. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Y-You just…oh god. Feel so good!” He warbles, shaking hands gripping onto the phone. He spreads his legs out wider, finding a new position to thrust his hips. His hair begins to stick to his head, and with every breath, a moan slips past his lips.

You are on the same page, hands moving quicker to hopefully match his high. “Its alright. Im going to cum to. Are you going to cum inside me? Wanna fill me up?”

He heaves at your words, hearts in his eyes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. He did desperately. It was way better than pulling out, or cumming into the condom. “Please! Please!”

His moans are high in pitch now, and his pace is sporatic. They are frantic though, and the entire bed shakes with his fierce movements. 

“Good boy. Cum inside me then,” You purr directly into the mic, and his eyes fly open when he cums. He lets out a high pitched scream, and bites his hand to try and stay quite. The boys hips ram into the pillow, and his thoughts are cloudy, thinking about how deep he must be cumming in you. His whole body is shivering in pleasure, and he wears a small smile.

You cum a moment later, shaking and sighing, but not making as much noise as your beloved. You didnt mind, his high pitched moans and screams were cute, you just wished he got over that stupid need to bite his hand whenever he cums. It muffles them way too much for your liking.

Post nut clarity hits Tamaki like a truck and his face turns a bright shade of red. Asking you to praise him, and even begging to cum “inside” you? Humiliating.

“I know what you are thinking, love. Dont be embarrassed. It was fun. Good. What lovers do,” You reassure, knowing his anxiety gets the better of him. 

He takes comfort in your words immediately, slightly nodding to himself and trying to think of something else to hopefully die down the embaressment. He feels exhausted, and instead focuses on that. He pulls out of the pillows with a sigh and brings the phone to his face to begin wishing you goodnight.

His eyes widen when he realizes something, and he lets out a dramatic gasp.

The sound makes you perk up, and you are on immediate alert. “Whats wrong?”

“Oh no. This is bad. What do I do now?” He begins to mumble, eyes scanning across the bed.

“What? What happened?” You question more frantically now, pulling the phone closer to your ear.

It goes silent on the other end for about thirty seconds. He pulls away the two pillows and gulps as his stares at his own product. This was bad. Truly a problem.

“What am I supposed to sleep on tonight?”

It takes everything in you to not hang up on him.

PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST

[bu3ck3r]

all mine

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

wc: 10k

warnings: drinking, language, sexual content

a/n: sorry for the long wait but here it is😭 (i didnt really edit this so if there’s some mistakes just ignore it)

Before Paige knew what love felt like, she knew what Azzi felt like.

It was laughter on long bus rides, sneakers tapping against the pavement in perfect rhythm. It was midnight conversations whispered under dorm room ceilings, fingers barely brushing between them on the couch. It was an unspoken understanding—a silent kind of gravity that had pulled them together long before they even realized it was happening.

Paige had always been drawn to Azzi, even when they were just kids competing at camps, both of them too young to understand why they gravitated toward each other the way they did.

But it wasn’t just friendship. Not really.

Because Paige had never felt her heartbeat stutter when she hugged any of her other friends too long. She had never memorized the way anyone else laughed, or wondered what it would feel like to hold their hand just because she wanted to. She had never been scared of losing anyone the way she was scared of losing Azzi.

But back then, she didn’t have the words for it. So she did the only thing she knew how to do—she buried it.

Somewhere along the way, things started to shift. Not in an obvious, dramatic way. It was subtle—like the way shadows change with the time of day, creeping in slowly until suddenly, everything looks different.

It was the way Paige started pulling back without realizing it. The way she let texts sit unanswered a little too long, the way she hesitated before reaching for Azzi the way she used to.

And Azzi noticed. Of course she did.

Because Azzi had always been the one person who saw through Paige, even when Paige didn’t want to be seen.

“Are we good?” Azzi had asked one night, her voice careful, uncertain.

Paige had nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, of course.”

And Azzi hadn’t pushed.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe Paige needed her to push, to call her out, to force her to say out loud what she was too afraid to admit.

But Azzi had always been patient.

So she waited.

And Paige kept running.

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The house was packed, music too loud, bodies pressed too close, heat settling thick in the air.

Paige wasn’t sure why she even came.

She wasn’t the party type. Not really. But Nika had dragged her out, insisting she needed to “loosen up,” and Paige was too tired to argue.

She had been standing against the wall, half-listening to Lou and Nika argue about something stupid, when she felt it.

That familiar pull.

She didn’t have to turn around to know Azzi was in the room.

She felt it in her chest first, like something tightening, something waking up.

And when she finally lifted her gaze, there she was.

Azzi was across the room, head tilted back in laughter, eyes crinkled at the corners, completely unaware of the way Paige’s entire world had just narrowed to her.

Paige was used to seeing her on the court—focused, determined, sharp.

But here, she looked different. Softer. Warmer.

And it was unfair, the way she did that—walked into a room and made Paige forget how to breathe.

For a second, just a second, Azzi turned.

Their eyes met.

And the moment stretched, time bending between them the way it always did.

Azzi didn’t look away.

And for the first time in a long time, neither did Paige.

The night air was cooler outside, a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of the party.

Azzi stood by the railing, fingers tapping idly against the wood, her gaze fixed on the city lights.

Paige hesitated in the doorway, hands shoved into the pocket of her hoodie, uncertainty clawing at her ribs.

She wasn’t sure what she was doing here.

Maybe she should just go back inside. Pretend she hadn’t followed Azzi out here like some lost puppy.

But before she could make that decision, Azzi spoke.

Paige froze, fingers tightening around the fabric of her hoodie.

Azzi didn’t turn to look at her, still staring out at the city, but her voice was steady—too steady, like she had been waiting to say this for a long time.

“You always do this”

Paige swallowed. “Do what?”

Azzi let out a breath—one of those slow, measured exhales that meant she was trying to hold something back.

“You pull away,” she said finally, turning just enough to glance at Paige over her shoulder. “And then you come back like nothing happened.”

Paige’s stomach twisted. “That’s not—”

Azzi gave her a look, and Paige’s words died in her throat.

Because it was true.

Paige didn’t mean to do it. She didn’t mean to keep running, to keep putting distance between them every time she felt like she was getting too close.

But how was she supposed to not be scared? Azzi was the only thing that had ever felt bigger than basketball, bigger than anything Paige had ever wanted. And wanting her, really wanting her—meant risking everything.

It meant risking them.

“I just…” Paige sighed, leaning against the railing next to Azzi, close enough that their arms almost touched. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Azzi turned fully now, eyebrows pulling together. “Do what?”

Paige hesitated, staring down at her hands.

This was the moment.

The moment where she either told the truth or let the silence stretch between them again, let it become another thing they didn’t talk about.

She took a shaky breath.

“This,” she said, finally looking up. “Wanting you. Being around you and pretending it’s nothing when it’s everything.”

Azzi’s lips parted slightly, like she wasn’t sure if she had heard Paige right.

And then, carefully, so, so carefully—she reached out, fingers grazing Paige’s wrist.

Paige sucked in a breath, but she didn’t pull away.

“Then stop pretending,” Azzi murmured.

And for the first time in years, Paige thought that maybe—just maybe—she could.

It wasn’t dramatic.

It wasn’t some grand, sweeping moment like in the movies.

It was just them.

Standing on a balcony, the city stretching out below, the party fading into a distant hum behind them.

Azzi was watching her, waiting—always waiting.

And Paige, for once, didn’t run.

She just leaned in, closing the space between them, pressing her lips to Azzi’s like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Azzi inhaled sharply against her mouth, but then she was kissing her back, fingers curling around the fabric of Paige’s hoodie, pulling her in like she had been waiting for this just as long. It was slow, tentative—like they were both afraid to break whatever fragile thing had just formed between them. But then Paige sighed into the kiss, and Azzi’s hand slid up to cup her jaw, and suddenly, it wasn’t slow at all.

It was desperate.

It was real.

And Paige had never felt more certain of anything in her life.

They didn’t talk about it right away.

Maybe because neither of them wanted to break whatever had just settled between them.

Or maybe because words felt too small, too insignificant for something that had felt so big.

All Paige knew was that when they finally stepped back inside, her entire body was still buzzing.

Azzi’s fingers had brushed hers as they walked, and Paige had wanted so badly to reach back—to hold on, to keep them connected just a little longer.

But she didn’t.

Because as much as she wanted this, she was still scared.

What if they ruined everything? What if this didn’t change anything?

Paige stole a glance at Azzi, wondering if she was feeling the same way.

Azzi caught her staring.

And for the first time all night, she smiled. Not a small, uncertain smile. A real one.

And just like that, Paige knew.

This wasn’t nothing.

This was everything.

──────────── ౨ৎ ───────────

Paige woke up with the memory of Azzi’s lips still burning on hers.

The morning light was filtering through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the room. Everything felt different—like the world had shifted on its axis while she was sleeping. And maybe it had.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

“You up?”

Paige exhaled, fingers hovering over the screen. Then she smiled, because for the first time, she didn’t have to think about it.

“Yeah. Want to get breakfast?”

Azzi’s reply was immediate.

“Always.”

Paige didn’t know what came next.

But for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid to find out.

Paige had always been good under pressure.

On the court, with the clock winding down and the game on the line—those were the moments she lived for. When the stakes were high, she thrived.

But this? This was different. Because this wasn’t a game.

And the way Azzi was looking at her across the breakfast table—soft, curious, like she was waiting for Paige to say something—it made her feel like she was already losing.

“So…” Azzi finally broke the silence, stirring her coffee absently. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

Paige exhaled, leaning back against the booth. “What is it?”

Azzi gave her a knowing look.

“Paige.”

Her name sounded different in Azzi’s voice—like a question, like a challenge. Like a promise.

Paige ran a hand through her hair, trying to play it cool. “We kissed. It happened.”

Azzi’s expression didn’t change.

“And?”

Paige hesitated.

And I can’t stop thinking about it. And I don’t know what to do next. And I think I might be in love with you, but I don’t know how to say it out loud.

But instead of saying any of those things, she shrugged. “And… I don’t want things to be weird.”

Azzi studied her for a long moment, fingers tapping lightly against her cup. Then she nodded, like she had expected that answer.

“Okay,” she said simply.

And that was the problem with Azzi.

She didn’t push. She never did. She just gave Paige space to figure it out.

And Paige had never wanted to figure something out more in her life.

The thing about trying to pretend nothing had changed?

It never worked. Because everything had changed.

Paige felt it in every glance, every accidental touch, every moment of silence that stretched a little too long.

And if Azzi noticed—which she definitely did—she didn’t say anything.

She just let it happen.

Like when they were in the gym late one night, just the two of them, shooting in comfortable silence.

Paige had missed a shot she never missed, and Azzi had smirked.

“Distracted?”

Paige rolled her eyes, grabbing the rebound. “You wish.”

Azzi stepped closer, tilting her head slightly. “I do.”

Paige’s breath caught.

She wasn’t sure if it was the way Azzi’s voice had dropped just a little lower, or the fact that they were suddenly too close, but something shifted.

Azzi must have felt it too, because she hesitated—just for a second—before reaching out.

Her fingers barely grazed Paige’s wrist.

And Paige? Paige didn’t move. She couldn’t.

Because Azzi was looking at her like she knew. Like she knew exactly what Paige was feeling and was just waiting for her to admit it.

And for a moment, Paige almost did.

But then the gym doors creaked open, and the moment was gone.

Azzi stepped back.

And just like that, they were back to pretending.

Pretending only worked for so long.

It was after another game—a close win, adrenaline still buzzing in Paige’s veins—when it finally happened.

They were in the locker room, most of the team already gone, when Azzi leaned against the lockers and said, “I’m done.”

Paige frowned. “Done with what?”

Azzi sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “With this.”

Paige’s heart clenched. “Azzi…”

“No, listen,” Azzi said, stepping closer. “I don’t want to be something you keep running from. I don’t want to keep pretending this is nothing when we both know it’s not.”

Paige swallowed hard.

Azzi reached out, fingers ghosting over Paige’s jaw—barely touching, but enough to make Paige’s breath hitch.

“I want you,” Azzi murmured. “But I need to know if you want me too.”

Paige didn’t answer.

Not with words.

Instead, she surged forward, kissing Azzi like she was trying to make up for every second they had wasted.

It wasn’t like their first kiss.

This was desperate.

This was hungry.

Paige backed Azzi into the lockers, hands fisting in her hoodie, pulling her closer and closer—until there was nothing between them but heat and want and every unspoken word they had been avoiding.

Azzi let out a soft sound against her mouth, fingers tangling in Paige’s hair, and Paige melted into it.

Into her.

And suddenly, nothing else mattered.

The thing about keeping a secret like this?

It’s exhausting.

Paige could feel the weight of it every time she saw Azzi—across the court, in the hallway between classes, during practices.

The stolen glances. The lingering touches. The way their eyes would meet for just a second, a silent promise between them, and then they’d both look away—acting like nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

Paige would catch herself at night, her body still humming from the way Azzi’s fingers had brushed her cheek, the way their lips had melded together in that locker room, desperate and fierce.

And she’d want to reach out, to text Azzi, to say anything.

But no.

They couldn’t.

At least, not yet.

There was something thrilling about it—about the secrecy. The knowledge that, for now, only they knew the truth. But it was also maddening. And Paige knew she couldn’t keep pretending that everything was okay for long.

They found ways to be close without anyone noticing—whispers in dark hallways, brief moments where their hands would brush when they passed each other.

But it was in the quiet moments when they weren’t supposed to be touching that Paige felt it most.

Like when they were at the team’s dinner, everyone gathered around a long table in the dimly lit restaurant, eating and laughing.

Azzi was across from her, but their eyes locked, and suddenly the noise around them faded into a soft buzz, like the world had shrunk to just the two of them.

Azzi’s leg brushed against Paige’s under the table, slow and deliberate.

And Paige’s heart skipped a beat.

She looked up, and Azzi’s eyes were on her, dark and intense. A small, secret smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

We shouldn’t be doing this, Paige thought. But the rush of heat that shot through her told her that she didn’t care anymore.

When the dinner ended, Paige walked out behind everyone else, head spinning, pulse racing.

Azzi stayed just a little too close, their shoulders brushing as they exited the door.

Azzi’s voice was low, almost a whisper. “Meet me later. My place.”

Paige’s breath caught in her throat. What was she doing? What was she getting herself into?

But the tension between them had reached its breaking point, and all she could do was nod, her voice barely audible. “I’ll be there.”

──────────── ౨ৎ ───────────

Paige had always been good at staying in control. She was the leader on the court, the one who made the calls, the one who always had a plan.

But when she stepped into Azzi’s apartment later that night, everything changed.

Azzi’s place was warm, soft lighting casting gentle shadows over the space. It felt different—softer than the world they had built around themselves. Paige felt the familiar pull in her chest, but this time, there was no hiding from it.

Azzi closed the door behind her, locking it, the quiet sound echoing through the room.

Paige turned to face her, nerves buzzing under her skin.

Azzi stepped forward, her eyes dark, intense, but her touch gentle. She cupped Paige’s face, thumbs grazing over her cheekbones, and Paige leaned into her touch without thinking.

“I’ve been thinking about this… about you,” Azzi whispered, her voice rough and low.

Paige swallowed hard. “Me too.”

And then, without warning, Azzi kissed her—slow, deliberate, the way they both had been craving but never allowing themselves to fully indulge.

Azzi’s hands moved to the back of Paige’s neck, pulling her closer, her mouth hot and insistent. Paige moaned softly, the sound caught in her throat as she wrapped her arms around Azzi’s waist, drawing her in.

It was slow. It was a blur of emotions and tension. Every touch felt like it could be their last moment together like they were both daring each other to cross a line they knew they shouldn’t yet.

Azzi’s fingers slid down to the hem of Paige’s shirt, and for a moment, they just paused—standing there, breathless, as if they were both trying to remember how to move in each other’s space.

Paige met Azzi’s gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. “Are you sure?”

Azzi didn’t answer with words. She just pulled Paige into another kiss—deeper, more desperate.

And that was the moment Paige stopped caring about anything else.

It wasn’t just about the kiss.

It was about everything that led up to it.

Paige’s hands were on Azzi’s now, fingertips brushing against her bare skin, igniting a fire she hadn’t realized was there. The moment was unraveling, both of them caught between desire and the fear of what it meant.

Azzi’s breath came in shallow bursts, her body aching for more. “Paige,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Paige’s lips trailed down her neck, teeth grazing her pulse, and Azzi moaned softly, hands sliding into her hair, pulling her closer, urging her on.

Paige paused, her lips hovering just above Azzi’s skin. “You sure?” she asked, voice low and thick with desire.

Azzi shuddered, nodding, her fingers curling into Paige’s shirt. “I want this.”

And that was all Paige needed.

She moved slowly, deliberately, taking her time, making sure every touch, every kiss, was burned into Azzi’s memory. The tension built between them, charged and electric, until it felt like the whole world had disappeared. There was only the way Paige’s hands moved over her, the way Azzi’s body responded—every inch of her skin reacting to Paige’s touch as if it had always been meant for this.

Paige’s name escaped Azzi’s lips in a breathless gasp, and Paige responded with a soft growl, kissing her deeper.

Paige reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of Azzi’s jaw, her touch feather-light yet igniting a fire within. Azzi leaned into the caress, her breath hitching as she closed her eyes, savoring the moment.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Paige whispered, her voice a sultry murmur that sent a thrill through Azzi.

With a soft smile, Azzi opened her eyes, locking onto Paige’s gaze. “Show me,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with longing.

Paige leaned in closer, their lips almost touching, the warmth of their breaths mingling. Their lips met softly at first, a gentle exploration that quickly deepened as they lost themselves in each other.

Paige’s hands found their way to Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer, feeling the heat radiating from her body. Azzi responded by tangling her fingers in Paige’s hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. It was a dance of passion and tenderness, each movement igniting a spark that spread through them both.

As they pulled away, breathless and flushed, Azzi eyes sparkled with mischief.

“I want to feel all of you,” she said, her voice low and inviting.

Paige’s hands roamed down Azzi’s sides, exploring the curves of her body, tracing the delicate lines of her silhouette. Azzi shivered at the touch, her skin alive with sensation. She leaned back slightly, allowing Paige to explore further, her heart pounding with excitement.

With a gentle push, Paige guided Azzi back onto the soft bed, their bodies entwined. The world outside faded even more, leaving only the warmth of their skin and the rhythm of their hearts. Paige’s lips traveled down Azzi’s neck, planting soft kisses that made her gasp and arch her back, craving more.

“Tell me what you want,” Paige murmured against her skin, her breath hot and tantalizing.

Azzi’s voice was barely a whisper, filled with need. “Everything. I want everything with you.”

Paige smiled, her eyes dark with desire. She captured Azzi’s lips again, pouring all her longing into the kiss, as their bodies moved together in a beautiful symphony of passion and love.

Paige’s hands slid beneath Azzi’s shirt, fingers grazing the soft skin of her stomach, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. Azzi’s breath quickened as Paige’s hands traveled higher, brushing against the lace of her bra. With a deft movement, she unclasped it, letting it fall away, exposing Azzi’s breasts to the cool air.

Azzi gasped, her body responding instinctively as Paige’s warm mouth enveloped one of her nipples, swirling her tongue around it. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through Azzi, as she pressed herself closer to Paige.

“Yes, just like that,” she breathed, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair, urging her on.

Paige’s other hand explored Azzi’s body, trailing down her sides and slipping beneath the waistband of her pants. She could feel the heat radiating from Azzi’s core, and her fingers brushed against the soft fabric of her panties. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

Azzi’s breath hitched as Paige’s fingers found their way inside her panties, teasing her with gentle strokes. “Paige baby, please,” she gasped, her body pressing into the touch, craving more.

Paige’s fingers moved with purpose, exploring the slickness of Azzi’s arousal, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. “I want to make you feel good,” she whispered, her eyes locked onto Azzi’s, filled with a mix of love and lust.

Azzi’s body responded fast, her hips moving in rhythm with Paige’s fingers. “Yes, just like that,” she moaned.

“Mmm, i love hearing you like this.” Paige whispered in Azzi’s ear.

“I love the way you touch me” Azzi whispered with a look full of desire.

As Paige continued to work her magic, Azzi felt herself teetering on the edge and the pleasure building within her.

“Fuck you feel so good baby.” she whispered in Azzi’s ear.

Azzi was grinding on Paige’s fingers slowly. Paige’s hand was lazily squeezing her butt and the other holding the side of her neck as her thumb stroked her cheek.

“You’re driving me crazy Az.” Paige whispered with a smile while putting her fingers deep inside.

“Baby please i need you so badly right now, don’t stop.” Azzi responded with a breathy moan.

“I got you princess.” she said as her hands moved faster.

“You’re being so good for me, pretty.” she praises Azzi once again helping her roll her hips against her fingers while gripping tighter around her sides.

“Look at me while you do that.” Azzi said with a needy tone.

“You like that, don’t you gorgeous?” Paige replied with a smirk on her face.

“Omg Paige im close…don’t stop..go harder baby” Azzi’s moans getting louder as she pulls Paige to her.

Paige comes closer to Azzi as she whispers in her ear. “So fucking hot taking it so good”

Azzi wrapped her legs around Paige’s waist as her hips rocked faster. Azzi’s so close, her legs are starting to hurt but Paige keeps up the pace, working Azzi through her orgasm. Her entire body shakes as she becomes incredibly sensitive and slows the movement of her hips.

Azzi takes both of her hands to cup Paige’s face. “I love you” she looks deep into Paige’s eyes.

“I love you to Azzi” Paige says as she brings Azzi in for a passionate kiss. Her tongue sliding across Azzi’s bottom lip. After they pull away she smiles at Azzi bringing her forehead to hers.

It wasn’t just passion, it was something more.

Something they couldn’t name yet, but something they felt deeply.

──────────── ౨ৎ ───────────

There were nights when Paige couldn’t sleep.

Nights when the world outside her window was still and silent, but her mind was anything but. She’d find herself staring at the ceiling, replaying the moments with Azzi—the way her lips felt against hers, the gentle but persistent touch of Azzi’s hands as they navigated the lines between wanting and needing.

It was overwhelming, this thing between them. A slow build, layered with emotions they weren’t sure how to unpack.

She wasn’t used to this—being vulnerable.

Being seen.

Every time she saw Azzi, there was an undeniable pull. A gravity that kept them both tethered, even when they pretended not to notice.

One evening, after another late practice, Paige found herself standing outside Azzi’s apartment building. She had told herself she wouldn’t do this—wouldn’t show up uninvited, wouldn’t cross a line they both knew existed—but her feet carried her here anyway.

She texted Azzi with shaking fingers: “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

A moment passed before Azzi’s reply lit up her screen: “I know. Come up.”

Paige’s heart raced as she hit the elevator button, then made her way up to the familiar door.

When Azzi opened it, she didn’t say a word. She just pulled Paige inside, closing the door behind her.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing, quiet and heavy, both of them standing close, but not quite touching.

“Azzi,” Paige said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Azzi met her eyes, searching, and for a moment, Paige felt like she was about to unravel in front of her.

Azzi didn’t respond with words. Instead, she stepped forward, her fingers brushing Paige’s jaw. It was a gentle touch, a silent question.

And then, she kissed her again.

But this time, it wasn’t frantic. It was slow—soft. They moved together like they had all the time in the world, as though they were both trying to savor the moment.

Paige let herself fall into it, every nerve in her body alive under Azzi’s touch.

They didn’t rush. Instead, they explored. The heat of their closeness, the electricity of their connection, was enough to make the world outside disappear. And in that quiet apartment, Paige began to realize that she wasn’t just falling for Azzi—she was letting herself be found.

The next few days passed in a haze—small touches, lingering glances, conversations held in hushed tones. They didn’t talk about what had happened. They didn’t even acknowledge the weight of it, not really.

But it hung in the air between them, palpable and thick.

One afternoon, after a long practice, they sat together on the steps outside the gym, the warm evening air wrapping around them like a blanket. They were alone, the others already gone, but it was never the right time to speak the words that had been building between them.

Azzi stretched out her legs, leaning back slightly against the steps. Paige sat beside her, her shoulder grazing Azzi’s. The touch was fleeting but meaningful.

“You know,” Azzi began, breaking the silence, “I’ve never really understood how to do this.”

Paige’s heart skipped a beat. “Do what?”

Azzi glanced over at her, her eyes serious, but there was a softness there too. “Let someone in. Let someone stay.”

Paige felt a flutter in her chest. “I didn’t think you had that problem.”

Azzi’s lips curved into a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I do. I think we both do.”

Paige shifted closer, the weight of her words heavier than anything she had said before. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Azzi turned her head to look at her then, her gaze intense, searching. “You sure about that?”

Paige nodded, her breath catching in her throat. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

They were quiet for a moment, the weight of what was unspoken between them settling into the space. It wasn’t just about physical attraction—it was about trust. About the willingness to give yourself to someone else and let them have a piece of your heart, even if it wasn’t perfect.

Azzi leaned in then, closing the distance between them. It was soft, tender—this time it wasn’t the frantic passion of before, but something deeper. Their lips met gently, and Paige let out a sigh, closing her eyes and giving herself up to the feeling.

They pulled apart, but Azzi’s hand lingered on Paige’s cheek, thumb brushing against her skin as if memorizing the curve of her face.

“I want to believe you,” Azzi whispered, “but I’m scared.”

Paige leaned into her hand, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared too.”

And in that moment, Paige realized that maybe fear wasn’t something to avoid. Maybe it was a sign that they were both invested—both willing to risk it all for something they couldn’t explain but didn’t want to let go of.

The next few weeks were a blur of stolen moments and quiet intimacy. They’d meet in secret—behind closed doors, in dark corners where no one could see them, and it felt like they were living in their own world, separated from everything else.

But as much as they both craved each other’s touch, there was always the lingering tension—the fear of what might happen if anyone found out. Paige couldn’t help but wonder how much longer they could keep it a secret. How much longer they could keep pretending that nothing was different.

One night, after an especially intense game, they found themselves alone again. It was late, the gym empty, and the only light came from the overhead lamps casting long shadows on the court.

Azzi was waiting for her near the locker rooms, leaning against the doorframe. Paige’s pulse quickened when she saw her, the magnetic pull between them almost tangible.

Azzi pushed herself off the wall and walked toward Paige, her gaze never leaving hers.

“You’re always so quiet,” Azzi said softly, her voice a little teasing, but there was something more in it. “But I know you’re thinking about something.”

Paige couldn’t help but laugh, the sound almost nervous. “You’re impossible.”

Azzi smirked. “And you like it.”

Before Paige could respond, Azzi was close again, her lips brushing against her ear. “Tell me what you want.”

Paige’s breath caught in her throat. “I want…” She paused, unsure of what to say. How to put into words what she felt—what she needed.

Azzi’s hand gently cupped her jaw, lifting her face so their eyes met. “Tell me.”

And in that moment, everything felt clear. No more pretending. No more uncertainty.

“I want you,” Paige whispered, her voice thick with desire and truth. “I want this, Azzi. No more running.”

Azzi kissed her then, slow and deep, as if they were both finally allowing themselves to feel what they had been hiding for so long.

The hardest part about a secret relationship wasn’t the stolen glances or the quiet kisses.

It was the constant strain on your chest—the pressure that built up every time you had to hide how you truly felt.

For Azzi, it was getting harder and harder to keep her distance from Paige when every part of her wanted to be closer.

They couldn’t just exist in their own little world. No, the weight of their secret was beginning to bear down on them. Every time someone looked at them, she couldn’t help but wonder: Did they know?

At practice, when they passed each other, the air between them was thick with unspoken tension. She could see the way Paige would catch her eye for a moment, only to look away quickly. How the hint of a smile would flicker across her lips, like a confession she wasn’t ready to make.

Azzi wanted more.

She wanted more than just stolen moments. She wanted to be able to hold Paige’s hand in public, kiss her in broad daylight, feel the rush of the world around them. But each time she let herself think about it, a knot would form in her stomach. There were too many things at stake.

She had to keep reminding herself—this was for the best. This was safer.

But even that comfort was starting to fray.

Paige had been different lately. More distant. Azzi could feel the shift, the cracks in their perfect little bubble. She had caught Paige looking at her with something in her eyes, something searching. And that look always unsettled her.

Paige wasn’t the type to hide things, and Azzi feared that at some point, Paige would ask questions they both knew they weren’t ready to answer.

The worst part was the fear that Paige might start resenting the secrecy. The fact that she was constantly forced to pretend.

One night, after an intense game, they found themselves alone in the locker room. The air was thick with exhaustion, sweat clinging to their clothes, but the exhaustion didn’t feel as draining as it had before. It was a different kind of tired now—the kind that came from pretending to be something they weren’t.

Azzi was just taking off her jersey when Paige spoke.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

The words felt like a punch to the gut. Azzi froze, turning to look at Paige, who had her back to her, staring at the floor.

“Do what?” Azzi asked, her voice rough, betraying the fear that was growing in her chest.

Paige didn’t turn around, but she spoke in a voice Azzi could hear cracking. “This. The secret. The hiding.”

Azzi’s chest tightened. She knew it was coming. She had known it all along. “You knew this was the only way,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, but it wavered.

“I know,” Paige replied, her voice softer now, and Azzi could almost hear the pain in her words. “But it feels like we’re lying. Like we’re pretending to be someone else every time we’re around other people. It’s exhausting, Az.”

Azzi stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She reached out to place a hand on Paige’s shoulder, urging her to turn around.

“Look at me.”

When Paige turned, Azzi saw the conflict written all over her face. It was a mix of frustration and longing—an emotion Azzi knew all too well.

“I want this. I want you,” Azzi said, her words barely a whisper. “But I’m scared. I’m scared of losing you, Paige. Scared that if I let myself want you, we’ll ruin everything.”

Paige’s eyes softened, and for the first time in days, Azzi could see the vulnerability in her gaze. “You’re not going to lose me,” Paige whispered back. “But I need you to trust me, too. I can’t keep doing this in the shadows.”

Azzi’s heart raced, but she pulled Paige into her arms anyway, holding her close. “I trust you,” she murmured into Paige’s hair. “More than anything.”

They stood there for a moment, just holding each other, letting the weight of everything slip away—if only for a few minutes.

The days that followed felt like a slow unraveling. There were still moments of closeness—those brief but intense touches that spoke volumes, a look exchanged across the room that felt like a secret all on its own. But it wasn’t the same.

Paige was struggling with the fact that they couldn’t share their love with the world. She wanted to be able to call Azzi hers. To show everyone that she was the one who had her heart. But Azzi, on the other hand, felt like she was protecting them both by keeping things hidden.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been the same lately,” Paige said one night, sitting on the couch beside Azzi, her hands nervously twisting a blanket.

Azzi looked over at her, brushing her hair back. “I know. I get it. You’re frustrated.”

“I just—I just want to hold your hand when we go out. I want to kiss you in front of people, not hide in corners like we’re doing something wrong,” Paige said, her voice cracking with emotion.

Azzi reached for Paige’s hand, holding it tightly. “I know. I want that too. But we’re not ready. If anyone found out, it could—”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks,” Paige interrupted, her voice firm, but the uncertainty in her eyes told a different story. “I care about us. And I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

Azzi let out a deep breath, her thumb brushing over Paige’s hand. “I’m scared too, you know. Of what might happen if we go public. It’s not just about us. It’s about everything else—our careers, our friends, our families. We’re not in control of the way people will react. If it’s too much…”

Paige’s eyes softened as she squeezed Azzi’s hand tighter. “I know. But I can’t keep pretending it’s easy when it’s not. I can’t pretend I don’t love you.”

Azzi’s heart skipped a beat..

“I love you too,” Azzi whispered, the words leaving her lips with a mix of relief and fear.

They were silent for a long time, just holding each other, knowing that the weight of their feelings had only grown heavier with time. But there was no going back now. The love they shared couldn’t stay buried forever.

The days after their confession were a blur of emotions. It was like they were both waking up to a reality they had been avoiding. They couldn’t hide from each other anymore.

And they couldn’t hide from their fears either.

Azzi had always been good at keeping control of her emotions, but now they were threatening to spill over. She could feel herself unraveling as the pressure of keeping everything secret began to weigh down on her.

One evening, during a team event, Azzi’s patience snapped. She had been watching Paige from across the room, unable to tear her eyes away, and it was too much. The way everyone around them acted like they had no idea what was going on between them—it felt suffocating.

Azzi pulled Paige into a quiet corner, away from prying eyes, and before she even had time to think, she found herself kissing Paige, desperate for the touch, the release from the tension that had built between them.

But it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough.

Azzi pulled back, breathing heavily. “I can’t keep doing this, Paige,” she said, her voice breaking. “I can’t keep pretending everything is okay when it feels like it’s killing me inside.”

Paige’s eyes were wide with shock, but she didn’t back away. “I’m not pretending, Azzi. I’m not pretending anymore.”

Azzi took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. “Then what do we do now?”

Paige reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “We face it together.”

And for the first time, Azzi realized that maybe they didn’t need to hide anymore. Maybe they could build something stronger than the fear of what might happen.

──────────── ౨ৎ ───────────

The gym was eerily quiet.

The usual hum of sneakers on the court, the sounds of whistles, and the rhythmic thud of basketballs bouncing had long since faded away. The late afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the hardwood floors, giving the place an almost serene feeling.

Paige and Azzi were alone now.

There was something about the empty gym that had always made Paige feel exposed and vulnerable, yet tonight, as she stood beside Azzi, she felt an undeniable sense of calm. It was as if the quiet made it easier to breathe—to finally exist outside of the constraints they had put on themselves.

They had stolen moments like this before—quick, fleeting touches when no one was watching, stolen glances in the hallways, quiet laughter shared in passing. But tonight felt different.

Azzi stepped closer to her, brushing her hand gently against Paige’s. “You feel that?” Azzi asked softly, her voice low. “It’s like we’re the only two people in the world.”

Paige’s heart skipped a beat. She looked at Azzi, her eyes filled with something she couldn’t name—a mixture of longing, excitement, and something deeper, something she had been afraid to acknowledge.

“I know,” Paige replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s nice… being here with you, just the two of us.”

Azzi leaned in, her lips just a breath away from Paige’s ear. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” she murmured, and the words sent a shiver down Paige’s spine.

There was no more need for words, not now. Slowly, gently, Azzi pulled Paige in, capturing her lips in a kiss that felt like the world had finally aligned. It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t frantic. It was slow, deliberate, as if they had all the time in the world to savor each moment, each touch.

Paige’s fingers traced the curve of Azzi’s neck, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath her fingertips. Azzi’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer, the heat between them building with every second. They were finally letting go of the fear, the restraint that had held them back for so long.

For a few minutes, there was no one else in the world but them. Just the soft sounds of their breathing, the rhythmic beating of their hearts, the gentle rustling of their clothes as they pressed closer together.

But as the moment stretched on, they both forgot something.

They forgot that they weren’t truly alone.

The door to the gym creaked open, just slightly.

Paige and Azzi didn’t notice at first. They were too caught up in each other, too wrapped up in the intimacy that had finally blossomed between them. They kissed deeper, their bodies instinctively moving closer, and for a brief moment, the world outside their bubble seemed to disappear entirely.

But then, a voice broke through the silence.

“Really? In the gym?”

Azzi froze, her lips still hovering inches from Paige’s. She pulled away slowly, a mixture of shock and embarrassment flashing across her face.

Standing in the doorway was none other than their teammate, Ice—eyes wide with disbelief but a knowing smirk slowly forming across her lips.

“Well, well,” Ice teased, “look at you two. Never thought I’d see the day. But honestly? I’m not even surprised.”

Paige’s face turned crimson, and she instinctively pulled away from Azzi, as if she had been caught doing something wrong. But then she glanced at Azzi, and to her surprise, Azzi was smiling—softly, but with a hint of amusement.

“What? You’re not surprised?” Azzi asked, raising an eyebrow, her voice a mix of playful curiosity and gentle teasing.

Ice crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Please. You two have been so obvious for weeks now.” She laughed softly. “I mean, the way you look at each other? Come on. It was only a matter of time.”

Paige felt a rush of heat rise to her face, and for a split second, she wanted to disappear into the floor. But Azzi, to her surprise, didn’t seem fazed at all.

“So, you’re not gonna tell anyone?” Azzi asked, her tone casual, as if they were discussing something trivial.

Ice shrugged. “Why would I? Honestly, I think it’s kind of cute. I’ll let you two figure things out. But don’t think you’re fooling anyone.” She gave them both a knowing smile and turned to leave.

Paige stood there, stunned, as the sound of Ice’s footsteps faded. She glanced at Azzi, who had her arms crossed now, a small smirk still playing on her lips.

“You’re not embarrassed?” Paige asked, her voice quieter now, the weight of the situation sinking in.

Azzi shrugged, stepping closer to Paige again. “Honestly, no. I think it’s a relief.” She ran a hand through her hair. “We’ve been hiding this for so long, it feels like a weight has been lifted. And now, we don’t have to pretend anymore.”

Paige looked at Azzi, her heart thumping in her chest. “You really think that?”

Azzi nodded, her gaze steady. “Yeah. I mean, sure, it’s going to take some time to get used to. But we don’t need to hide. We can be ourselves around our teammates. They already know. And if they want to make fun of us? So be it. But at least it’ll be our truth, you know?”

Paige felt something shift inside her—a sense of relief she hadn’t realized she needed. They didn’t have to keep hiding. They didn’t have to live in the shadows anymore.

“I’m kind of scared, though,” Paige admitted, her voice small. “What if things change? What if it becomes…awkward?”

Azzi took a step forward, closing the distance between them again. She cupped Paige’s face gently, her thumb brushing across her cheek. “I get it. But that’s the thing—we’re doing this together. We can handle whatever comes. And if people have a problem with it? That’s their issue, not ours.”

Paige nodded slowly, feeling the tension in her chest ease. Azzi was right. They had spent so long worrying about what everyone else would think that they hadn’t given themselves the chance to just be.

Azzi leaned in and kissed her, slow and tender, but this time, it was different. It wasn’t about hiding—it was about claiming each other, letting go of the fear that had held them back for so long.

They pulled away, both of them smiling now, the weight of their secret finally lifted. The room felt lighter, the space between them finally filled with ease.

“You’re right,” Paige said, her voice soft but filled with newfound confidence. “We don’t have to hide anymore.”

Azzi smiled, her eyes shining with a mixture of relief and affection. “No. We don’t.”

As they stood there, surrounded by the echo of their teammates’ laughter, they both realized that this was just the beginning. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. They didn’t need to hide. They didn’t need to pretend.

What they had was real.

And nothing could change that.

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions for Paige and Azzi. The awkwardness that both had feared didn’t seem to materialize, though. Their teammates had already caught on, and despite the teasing and jokes, there was an unspoken understanding. Everyone seemed to accept that they were together, and as the days passed, the atmosphere around them started to settle. The team wasn’t shocked, they had all seen the connection between Paige and Azzi for weeks, if not months.

Yet there was a quiet moment that kept replaying in Paige’s mind: the kiss in the gym, the way Azzi had held her, the way she had confessed her fears and vulnerabilities. That was the moment she realized how much she had longed for this—to stop hiding, to be herself with the person she loved. And it was a feeling she was beginning to cherish, not fear.

But that didn’t mean everything was easy.

There were still moments when Paige found herself worrying about how the outside world would perceive them. What if the media got a hold of it? What if their fans—who loved them both—couldn’t understand? What if it changed their dynamic on the court?

Azzi, on the other hand, was more relaxed about it all. She knew the rumors were already swirling, but for her, the idea of being with Paige openly outweighed the potential complications. She had always been someone who believed in authenticity, even when it was hard, even when it required vulnerability.

That night, they sat together on Paige’s couch, their shoulders lightly touching. The TV was playing something in the background, but neither of them was paying much attention to it. They had just finished dinner, and the conversation had drifted to more personal things—things they hadn’t shared before, things that felt too important to leave unsaid.

“Do you think it’ll get weird?” Paige asked, her voice quiet, almost hesitant.

Azzi looked at her, eyes full of warmth. “What, being out in the open? You mean, with everyone knowing?”

Paige nodded. “Yeah. Like, will things change?”

Azzi smiled softly, her gaze steady. “We can’t control how other people react. But we can control how we handle it. And as long as we’re honest with each other, I think we’ll be fine. Besides,” she added with a mischievous grin, “I’m not really one to hide who I’m with. Never really was.”

Paige couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, I figured. You’ve always been kind of fearless.”

Azzi leaned in, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear. “Only when I know what I want,” she whispered.

The closeness between them was electric, a silent acknowledgment of everything they had been through to get to this point. It wasn’t just about the physical attraction—it was about trust, vulnerability, and understanding. It was the quiet moments like this that reminded Paige why she had fallen for Azzi in the first place.

But not everyone shared the same calm demeanor that Azzi seemed to carry so effortlessly. As the days passed, the team began to show more curiosity. Some of them were supportive, some of them gave gentle teasing, but others, like Ice, took to joking around in a way that felt less than kind at times. Still, Paige had come to terms with the fact that people’s reactions were beyond their control.

It wasn’t until the team was having a post-practice dinner at a local restaurant that Paige felt a twinge of discomfort. The group had settled into their usual booth, the chatter and laughter filling the air as the evening wore on. Paige and Azzi were sitting beside each other, sharing a basket of fries, trying to ignore the occasional sideways glance or whispered comment.

At one point, Ice made a remark about how “cute” the two of them looked together. The others chimed in with their own teasing comments, but it wasn’t in a malicious way—it was more playful than anything. Paige, however, could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She tried to brush it off, but it was hard not to feel exposed.

“Do you think they’re staring?” Paige whispered to Azzi, her voice low.

Azzi, sensing her discomfort, leaned in a little closer. “Don’t let it bother you. People are always going to have something to say. But you and I know what this is, right?”

Paige met her gaze, and for a second, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. “Yeah,” she said, her heart full of certainty. “I know.”

And for the first time in a long while, Paige realized that this was the moment where their relationship was no longer about secrecy. It wasn’t about hiding in the shadows. It was about them, about their love, and about how much stronger it had made them both.

The team’s joking continued, but it no longer had the sting it once did. As time went on, Paige and Azzi grew more comfortable being together. They no longer felt the need to hide or downplay their connection. In fact, Paige found herself standing a little taller when they were in public, walking with a confidence she hadn’t realized she lacked before. Azzi’s quiet support and unwavering belief in them gave her the strength to carry that confidence.

It wasn’t just about being open in front of their teammates. It was about opening up to each other in ways they hadn’t done before. They started sharing more than just their feelings for each other—they shared their hopes, their fears, and their dreams for the future.

One night, as they sat together in the quiet of Paige’s apartment, Azzi spoke about something that had been on her mind for a while.

“I’ve always been afraid of… of not being good enough,” she admitted, her voice soft. “Afraid that if I give myself fully to someone, I’ll let them down.”

Paige’s heart ached at hearing this. She reached for Azzi’s hand, gently squeezing it. “You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to do anything but be you,” Paige said, her voice firm, yet tender. “I love you just the way you are. And I trust you with everything I have.”

Azzi’s eyes softened, and she leaned in, pressing her forehead against Paige’s. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know.”

In that moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift off their shoulders. They no longer needed to be afraid of the outside world or the things they couldn’t control. What they had was theirs, and nothing—no matter how difficult it might be—could take that away.

The next morning, as they walked into practice, it was different. They were still the same Paige and Azzi that their teammates knew, but there was something new—a sense of peace between them. No more secrets. No more pretending. They didn’t have to hide their feelings anymore.

As they lined up for drills, Azzi caught Paige’s eye and gave her a small, knowing smile. Paige smiled back, her heart light.

For the first time in a long while, they both felt like they could breathe easy. No matter what came next, they had each other. And for Paige, that was all that mattered.

──────────── ౨ৎ ───────────

It had been a month since Paige and Azzi had stopped hiding their relationship. The team had largely accepted it, though there were still moments of teasing. But Paige no longer cared. She wasn’t hiding anymore. Neither of them were.

Tonight was different, though. The team had been invited to a party to celebrate the end of the season, a mix of teammates, coaches, and friends. Paige was looking forward to it in a way she hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t just a team event. It was an opportunity to finally enjoy the freedom they had earned, to let loose without worrying about being watched.

Azzi had been in her element all evening—laughing, chatting, and looking effortlessly stunning in a sleek black dress that clung to her body perfectly. The fabric shimmered under the lights as she moved through the crowd, her long legs highlighted by the high heels she wore. Paige couldn’t help but stare, her gaze tracing every curve of Azzi’s form. There was something about the way she carried herself tonight—the confidence, the grace—that made Paige’s heart race.

“You good?” Ice asked Paige, noticing her distracted expression.

Paige didn’t immediately respond. Her eyes were locked on Azzi, who was chatting with some of the other girls from the team. Azzi’s smile was radiant, her laughter contagious, and the way she threw her head back in amusement made Paige’s heart flutter.

“I’m more than good,” Paige finally said, her voice a little breathier than usual.

Ice smirked. “I see how it is,” she teased, nudging Paige’s shoulder. “You’re looking at her like you can’t wait to drag her home.”

Paige flushed, but she couldn’t deny it. The desire was there, unspoken but undeniable. Azzi had always had that effect on her. And tonight, it felt different—like the air between them had thickened, like the weight of their love was becoming too much to ignore.

As the night went on, the alcohol flowed freely, and the atmosphere became more relaxed. Paige and Azzi found themselves in a quiet corner of the room, away from the crowd. They weren’t as concerned with the party as they were with each other. The music pulsed in the background, and the dim lighting set a sultry mood.

Azzi took a sip of her drink, her eyes meeting Paige’s with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. “You look amazing tonight,” she said, her voice low, filled with warmth.

Paige could feel the heat rising to her face at the compliment, but she smiled softly. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Azzi. Every part of her wanted to reach out, to touch her, to feel that closeness again.

Azzi’s gaze didn’t waver. She set her drink down and took a step closer to Paige. “It’s hard to focus when you keep looking at me like that,” she whispered, her lips brushing Paige’s ear as she spoke. “You make it impossible to stay composed.”

Paige’s breath hitched. She was intoxicated, but it wasn’t the alcohol that made her dizzy. It was Azzi. The way her presence consumed Paige entirely, the way she made everything else fade away.

Before Paige could respond, Azzi gently cupped her face and pulled her in for a kiss. It started soft, tender, a slow exploration of each other’s lips. But as the kiss deepened, it became more urgent, more needy. The heat between them surged, the way it always did when they were together.

“Paige,” Azzi murmured against her lips, “I want you.”

The words hung in the air, raw and honest. There was no hiding anymore, no games. In that moment, everything was laid bare between them.

Paige felt herself melting into Azzi’s touch, her hands sliding around Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer. Her fingers slid beneath the fabric of Azzi’s dress, tracing the smooth skin of her back. It felt electric, and every kiss sent waves of desire crashing through her.

Azzi’s breath was shallow now, and Paige could feel the tension building between them. They weren’t alone anymore. The world was still spinning around them, but for once, they didn’t care. It was just the two of them in this moment, their bodies speaking the language they had been waiting to share.

Somehow, they found their way to a quiet room upstairs. The noise of the party seemed distant now, almost irrelevant. In this moment, they were just Paige and Azzi—no teammates, no expectations, just two people who had finally let go of everything that had been holding them back.

Azzi’s hands were all over her now, pulling at the hem of Paige’s shirt, tugging it over her head. Paige’s breath caught in her throat as the cool air of the room brushed against her skin. She had never wanted anyone like this before—never felt this needed.

“Are you sure?” Paige asked, her voice a little unsteady. She could feel the intensity of the moment rising, but there was still a part of her that wanted to make sure they were on the same page.

Azzi’s eyes were dark with desire, but there was no hesitation. “I’m sure,” she whispered, her voice a low growl.

Before Paige could say another word, Azzi kissed her again, this time with a fire that had been simmering for far too long. Their bodies were pressed together, heat radiating between them, the world outside forgotten.

The kiss deepened, and Paige felt a wave of passion surge through her. She reached for the zipper of Azzi’s dress, tugging it down slowly, feeling her pulse race with each inch of skin revealed. Azzi’s hands were on Paige’s back now, guiding her toward the bed. They had crossed a line, and neither of them could stop now.

Azzi’s hands roamed across Paige’s body with an urgency that matched Paige’s own need. Every touch felt like a revelation, every kiss a promise. There was no holding back, no need for words. Their bodies spoke a language of their own—a language of love, of trust, of desire.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered. They were each other’s, completely.

The morning after was a haze of tangled sheets, soft light streaming through the windows, and the weight of what had happened settling in. Paige woke up first, her body still tingling with the aftershocks of the night before. She turned to look at Azzi, who was still asleep beside her, her hair tousled and her breathing soft and steady.

For a long time, Paige simply watched her. She never imagined herself here, with someone like Azzi—someone so strong, so confident, yet so vulnerable in their own way. The way they had connected, not just physically but emotionally, had transformed something inside Paige. She wasn’t afraid anymore.

Azzi stirred, her eyes fluttering open, and when she saw Paige looking at her, she smiled—soft, genuine, filled with love.

“You’re still here,” Azzi murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

Paige smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Azzi’s face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

They had crossed a line the night before, and yet, for the first time in their relationship, Paige felt completely sure of herself, of them. There was no fear now—only love. A love that was deep, real, and undeniable.

Azzi reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “You’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been,” she whispered.

Paige kissed her forehead softly. “Same here.”

It was the beginning of something real, something that couldn’t be broken by the judgment of others or the pressures of the world. They were in this together, and nothing was going to tear them apart.

[byshens]

jealousy ── park sunghoon x fem! reader smut + mdni

warnings jealous sunghoon, jealous sex, unprotected sex (dont!), choking, mentions of jake ( he’s like the center of the dirty talk ), fingering (f), breeding, petnames (baby, angel, princess), slight overstimulation. lmk if i missed any.

notes not sure if i was able to fix all the typos when editing the post, so if you see any pls ignore, i’ll find them eventually ..

requests are open! word count 1 , 893

“don’t go see jake again.” sunghoon grumbled against your shoulder. he wasnt very fond of your new friend—even though that’s all jake was to you, a friend.

“don’t be jealous, hoon.” you jokingly replied, patting his leg. you could feel him shift behind you, your back fully pressed against his chest. “i’m not jealous.”

his tone sounded jealous for sure to you. which made you giggle, “is jake really a threat to you?” you asked turning your head to face him, but when you locked eyes with sunghoon your body froze. his face was stone cold, his eyes darker than usual and his grip tightened against your hip.

he coldly laughed, “a threat? he’s not even worth being called a threat.” which you could agree, jake’s fun and all, but he’s nothing like sunghoon. no one could replace him in your heart and he knew that too, but just for the fun of it, you decided to make some comments.

“he’s cute, though. has the prettiest face.” you hummed, turning your head back to face away from sunghoon, a sly grin against your lips as you listened to him breathe in slowly. you’ve been waiting to see sunghoon riled up, and now was your chance.

when he didnt say anything to that comment, you provoked him more. “how do you feel about threesomes? he could definitely join us one time.” sunghoon knew you liked the idea of having a third for sex, even having rules set down if it ever happened, but something about the third being jake just made sunghoon’s skin crawl.

“bet jake wouldnt even be able to make you cum,” sunghoon finally spoke, his breath lingering on the back of your neck, kisses that were light as feathers being placed against your skin.

your lips parted as you tried to keep your breathing steady, you were finally cracking sunghoon. you just needed to keep pushing. “no you dont think so? i think he’d do well, bet he’s pretty in all places, not just his face.” you giggled. the noise of you being happy while talking about such things just kept ticking sunghoon off, not liking how intrigued you seem with this idea of jake.

sunghoon’s hand found itself traveling down from your hips to the edge of your shorts. your breath hitched as he pushed his hand inside the fabric of your underwear, his fingers moving down to slowly rub at your clit, watching your face as it filled with shock then small pleasure.

“i think i should make jake just watch us. make him watch how well i fuck you, how you moan my name so loud the neighbors get tired of us.” sunghoon seethed, his finger testing the waters and dipping itself inside your warmth, not too surprised at how wet you were already.

you let out a whine, so quiet that sunghoon would’ve missed it if he we wasnt so close to you. “you’d like that, wouldnt you?” he laughed, dipping another finger into you before he started to thrust them. your legs opening wider for him, allowing his fingers to reach deeper.

“hoon..” you breathed out, your head turning to face him again and he instantly took your lips against his, devouring your mouth in a heated kiss, his pace of his hand quickening which made you twitch against him, a moan escaping between the kiss.

i finally got him. you thought to yourself as you tried to roll your hips against his fingers, only causing him to pull them out. you pulled away from the kiss with a whine of protest at his action, only making him slap your thigh.

“let me show you what jake wont ever get.” he growled, throwing the blankets off the both of you and placing you in the middle of the bed. he took the hems of your shorts and underwear and pulled them down, taking them off you.

you watched his every move. the coldness in his eyes made your stomach flip, you knew sunghoon was a bit jealous sometimes, but seeing how it can play out was something new. you were snapped back to reality when you heard his belt, watching as he started to take off his own bottoms.

he tapped your thighs twice which let you know to spread your legs for him. once he slipped out of his own pants and boxers, he positioned himself before your entrance. you gasped, he never usually went right for it, he usually prepped you. “hoon wait..“ your voice breaking. before you could finish your sentence sunghoon was already pushing himself inside your heat.

“fuck,” he groaned, watching as his cock was sucked in by your walls. the wet noise your cunt was making drove him crazy, he knew he would never let jake get his for himself. this was all for him, only he could make you this wet and needy.

once he finally bottomed out, you thought he would be his usual gentle-ish self, but you were wrong. the second he bottomed out, he pulled right back out and slammed into you. this made your body jolt up, your hands scrambling to find his back. “sunghoon! wait—“ you pled, only to be cut off by a loud moan as he did it again.

his pace was fairly slow, but the roughness of his thrusts made your skin feel like its on fire. each pound into you got him deeper, his hands going down to force your legs to stay open, his nails getting into the skin on your thighs. “fuck, baby.” he moaned, watching as your face filled with pleasure.

“faster, please.” you begged. the slowness of his thrusts driving you insane, but sunghoon wasnt about to give you what you wanted, no. after you had teased him with those thoughts about jake? no he wasnt going to give in.

“take it how i give it to you,” he growled, though he did quicken his pace by just a bit, it wasnt as fast as you wanted, it was barely above the speed he was going beforehand. your mind was clouded with pleasure still, back arching off the bed with each time he slammed into your heat, only causing him to slide in deeper and hit all the spots you needed.

eventually sunghoon got tired of trying to keep that slow pace and when you finally seemed like you got used to his rhythm, he sped up. your eyes shot open again and dug your nails into his back. sunghoon’s hand going to wrap around your neck and squeeze down gently, pushing you back into the mattress as he pounded into you.

“fuck! please, please!” you cried out, watching sunghoon’s face fill with pleasure that only you could give him. his lips letting moans escape every few seconds. you knew he loved being inside you, how your pussy just seemed to fit perfectly for his cock.

“bet—bet jake cant fuck you like i can.” he grumbled, his speed picking up some more, ruthlessly tearing apart your warmth, the wet noises of your neediness filling the room. you loved this new side of sunghoon, your hand going to sit ontop of his that was wrapped around your neck, making him squeeze tighter around it.

“n—no he cant! only you can..” you moaned back at him through broken gasps, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, which messed up his rhythm a bit but neither of you complained. sunghoon leaned down to capture your lips into another kiss, his teeth nibbling at your lip to let him inside, which you happily gave in, letting his tongue force its way inside your mouth.

sunghoon pulled away from your mouth and let himself slip out of your cunt, which earned a whine as you suddenly felt empty. he flipped you over so now you were on your knees and pressed into the bed. sunghoon then forced himself back inside you, having you jump forward.

his hands gripped your hips tightly to keep you in place as he found his quick speed again, mumbling out curses everytime he hit the deepest parts of you he could, watching everytime how your ass would react to his hips snapping forward.

your mind was filled with how good he felt, how well he was treating you even though he was rough. a loud moan left your lips as you felt a smack on your ass, turning your head to try and see him, which was a bit hard due to your face being pushed into the pillows.

“you feel so good, fuck, princess.” sunghoon moaned, the praise going straight to your cunt which made you clench against his cock, his hips stuttering for a moment before finding his pace again. “god, dont do that. i’ll cum too soon.” he said, his mind getting foggy as well.

“hoon—i’m close..” you moaned out, feeling the knot in your stomach getting tighter with each thrust, your legs slightly trembling at staying up. your fingers clawing into the sheets as he fucked you, needing some kind of support. “cum for me, baby.”

and you did. you came all over his cock, having it drip down your thigh as he fucked you through your release. but he wasnt done, he fastened his pace and held your hips as close as he could to his thrusts, “fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” he moaned, his thrusts getting sloppier as he got closer to his own climax.

“cum inside me, hoonie..” you desperately whined, all of the overstimulation hitting you at once, but you were too immersed in the pleasure to really care, the feeling of sunghoon hitting every right spot as your cunt was tightly wrapped around him made you feel fuzzy.

sunghoon’s hips stuttered at the request, he always loved filling you up, watching how you took his cum like it was an everyday task (which it kind of was). “i’m gonna fill you up, baby. make sure your walls are stained with me.” he growled, one of his hands going to wrap around your throat again, pulling you up to be against his chest.

he came with a loud moan of your name, his teeth sucking harshly on your neck as he filled you up. a satisfied moan leaving your lips as you felt yourself fill up with his cum, always loving how it felt to be claimed once again by him.

once sunghoon fucked himself off his high with your cunt, he gently placed you back against the bed, his thrusts slow to not overwhelm you again. “you did so well for me, princess.” his voice was soft now, full of love again as he kissed your temple, slowly pulling himself out.

he leaned back on his heels as he watched your cunt drip with his cum, the white color of his markings along with your beautiful skin was a sight he always enjoyed. he got off the bed to clean you up while you felt yourself drift off to sleep, feeling too tired to do anything else.

and when sunghoon was finished cleaning everything up, he laid back in bed with you and cuddled you close to his chest, his fingers brushing your hair as you snored softly, “goodnight, my angel.” he whispered before he also drifted off to sleep, holding you close.

notes lowkey wouldnt mind doing a part 2 with jake involved … but only if it’s requested 🫶. ty for reading !

© byshens. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or post onto another platforms without my consent.

[emmiesoverthemoon]

GIRL your writing is ama-ZING!!! i need answers of why you arent like globally FAMOUS by now like—-

if youd like, could you maybe do something like headcanon-y?? like bigbang as your bf doing __ or something idk!

i know u will spit out something incredible like you always do ;) THANK U SO MUCH ☺️

that is so nice of u to say tysm! ill try my best to do as u wish:)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ he’s so boyfriend

Pairings: choi seunghyun x reader / kwon jiyong x reader / kang daesung x reader

Word Count: 4,315

Summary: just cute little scenarios between u and each guy as requested :)

part two part three

note: i purposely didnt include taeyang because he’s married and it felt weird to me so sorry about that! pls forgive me🙏🏻

pov: you got a haircut

seunghyun: nonchalant teases

You walk into the living room, your newly styled hair catching the light just right, feeling a little nervous but hopeful. Seunghyun is lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone, looking effortlessly relaxed. You stand there for a moment, waiting for him to look up, your hands fidgeting slightly as you wait for his reaction.

"Hey, Seunghyun," you call, your voice a little unsure. "Notice anything different?"

He does not look up immediately, his thumb scrolling lazily across the screen. "Hmm? What, did you get a new outfit?" he asks nonchalantly, as if he doesn’t even notice how different you look. You feel your stomach flutter nervously, unsure if he’s joking or actually hasn’t noticed.

You were about to say something when he finally looks up at you, his eyes scanning your appearance. "Ohhh wait... I know," he says with a teasing smile. "You got your hair done, didn’t you?" His voice is full of feigned nonchalance, like he’s somehow too cool to be impressed. Your face flushed in embarrassment.

Then, Seunghyun’s grin widens, and you catch the gleam in his eyes. "You look gorgeous," he says, his voice soft and sincere, but there is a hint of mischief in his smile. "I just love seeing you all flustered for a second."

You blink, realising it was a playful tease. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns on you, and a small laugh escapes your lips. "You’re awful," you say, shaking your head in mock exasperation, though you can’t help but smile.

He chuckles, standing up and walking over to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "I know. But you look amazing, really," he adds, his tone softening, and you can’t help but melt at the sincerity in his voice.

jiyong: private hairdresser

You sit in front of the mirror, fingers gently running through your hair, wondering whether it’s time for a trim. Jiyong, who has been quietly observing you from across the room, catches your gaze and flashes a knowing smile. You both know well that when it comes to your hair, you can be particularly picky. He had learned this first-hand after the time he dyed your hair for you for the first time—meticulously mixing the colors, then giving it a gentle trim. When he finished, you were thrilled with the result, and his confidence as a stylist only grew from there.

"You want a trim, don’t you?" Jiyong asks, his tone light yet sincere, his gaze fixed on you with an almost intuitive understanding.

You nod, not even needing to say anything further. He had always been attuned to what you need, especially when it comes to something as personal as your hair. After that first experience, where he’d so carefully tended to your hair, you’d grown to trust him with it completely. And, as it turned out, his skills were impeccable. From that day forward, whenever you wanted a trim—or any little change to your hair—you knew you could rely on him. No appointments, no salon waiting rooms. Just him, a set of scissors, and a calm, focused energy that made you feel completely at ease.

With a soft chuckle, he pats the chair beside him. "Come here, I’ll do it. You know I don’t mind. Just tell me how much you want off."

You smile, feeling a wave of warmth. It’s one of those simple, intimate moments—where he not only remembers the little things about you but also goes out of his way to make sure you feel cared for in the most thoughtful ways. Jiyong is not just cutting your hair; he’s taking care of something precious to you, and it’s that quiet, gentle understanding that makes you appreciate him even more.

daesung: loving overthinker

The moment you step through the front door, Daesung’s eyes immediately light up, his smile widening in delight. “Wow, your hair looks incredible!” he exclaims, practically bouncing on his heels. His enthusiasm is so genuine that it almost feels like a celebration of your new look. “It looks so beautiful on you! I love it!”

For a split second, he pauses, his gaze flickering between your face and your hair, as if considering the implications of his excitement. The realisation hits him like a wave: he does not want you to think that he is implying you looked bad before. His hands fly to his face, and a flurry of nervousness floods his expression. “I mean, not that you didn’t look amazing before! You always look great, but this… it’s just so fresh, you know?” he stammers, trying to assure you that it’s not a comparison, merely admiration.

You can’t help but laugh at his adorably flustered reaction, a soft warmth blooming in your chest. He is certainly the type to pour all his love and affection into every moment, and right now, his heart is spilling over. Without a second thought, he moves closer, running his fingers gently through the ends of your hair, as if savoring the feel of the fresh cut. “It just feels so new,” he says, almost in awe. “I think I might be in love with it.”

Every touch, every word, is soaked in pure affection—Daesung never holds back when it comes to showing how much he adores you, and this is no exception. He cannot help but marvel at how something as simple as a haircut can make you even more radiant, and he has all the love in the world to give.

pov: helping yourself to his wardrobe

jiyong: fashion cultivator

Jiyong’s eyes light up with that signature gleam whenever he sees you in his clothes. It’s a small thing, but to him, it feels like a sweet, intimate form of affection. One evening, after an effortlessly casual suggestion, he tosses you a selection of designer outfits he believes you will stun in. "Hey, try these on," he says, his voice light but filled with fondness. "I think you will look amazing in them."

You raise an eyebrow, amused, but decide to indulge him. Stepping into his clothes, you feel the fabric hang differently on you—larger, looser, but somehow more comforting. You do a little walk across the room, giving him a playful twirl.

Jiyong watches with that same adoration in his eyes, his mouth slightly parted as he takes in the sight of you in his clothes. His voice, low and teasing, fills the space. "Wow, you look so hot, so gorgeous in my clothes baby," he says, the words slipping out in a way that only makes you blush more. You laugh, shaking your head, your cheeks heated from the flattery. "Oh my gosh, Jiyong, stop."

He doesn’t stop, though. In fact, he grins wider, clearly enjoying every second of it. But it is not just about how good you look; it is the way he can see how much you enjoy the moment, how you trust him enough to play along with his little games, that makes his heart swell.

Although Jiyong absolutely loves seeing you in his clothes, there is a small, playful part of him that finds even more delight in the moment when it is time to take those clothes off. The teasing glint in his eye when he tells you, “But, between you and me, I think I enjoy taking it off you just a little more,” makes the room feel warmer. You roll your eyes, laughing but secretly enjoying the playful flirtation.

A balance between admiration and affection, between the thrill of seeing you dressed in his things and the even sweeter joy of undressing you, not just physically, but in every other way, too. With each moment, he makes you feel not only loved but like the most important person in his world.

daesung: returns the favour (tries to)

Daesung’s eyes widen the moment you step out wearing his new jacket. His reaction is immediate, his mouth parting in surprise. “You look better than me in that,” he exclaims, his voice soft but filled with genuine awe. Without missing a beat, he adds, “Please, have it. It suits you so much more than it ever suited me.”

You watch as he freezes in place, his cheeks flushing a soft pink, as if the realization of how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life just hit him all at once. His gaze lingers on you for a moment, the admiration in his eyes clear. “I really scored,” he mutters under his breath, almost in disbelief, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. His heart swells with affection for you, and his shyness only adds to the sweetness of the moment.

Unable to resist the playful urge to return the favour, he opens one of your drawers and retrieves a shirt, grinning. However, once he attempts to slip it on, it becomes immediately apparent that the shirt is much too small— his muscular frame is too broad for the fit of your top.

Daesung freezes once again, his face going an even deeper shade of red as his biceps stretch the fabric to its limits. His arm muscles are so defined that they make the shirt look comically small, and the sight has him utterly flustered. “Ah, uh… maybe not,” he says with a sheepish laugh, trying to adjust the sleeves with a nervous chuckle. “It seems like I’ve made a bit of a mistake there. My muscles might’ve just ruined this.”

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, still blushing, but he cannot hide the fact that he finds the entire situation endearing. It’s moments like this, small and tender, that remind him just how much he treasures you in his life.

seunghyun: playful annoyance

Seunghyun has this endearing way of acting “annoyed” whenever you casually grab one of his clothes, but anyone who knows him well can tell it is just an act. The moment you reach for one of his favorite jackets, his eyes narrow playfully, and he crosses his arms with a mock sigh. “Princess I just washed that. I didn’t even get to wear it yet,” he says, his tone dripping with exaggerated annoyance, though the hint of a smile at the corners of his lips betrays him.

What he doesn’t admit, however, is that he purposely places his items—especially the ones he knows you adore—in the most obvious spots. His shirts, jackets, and accessories are always within easy reach, as if he’s leaving little hints for you, an unspoken invitation for you to take whatever you like. It’s his subtle way of telling you that you can have anything, without ever needing to say the words aloud.

While he may joke about it, there is something profoundly genuine behind his actions. Seunghyun is the type of man who believes that actions speak louder than words. He doesn't need to express his affection through grand gestures or declarations. Instead, it’s the small, everyday things—like leaving his clothes lying around for you to claim as your own—that convey just how deeply he cares for you. His playful “annoyance” is just a cover for how much he loves the idea of you wearing his things, a silent yet meaningful gesture that shows how much you mean to him.

pov: missing you while you’re at work

daesung: a little clingy

As soon as you step into work, Daesung begins to text you, his messages coming in rapid succession. “I’m withering away without you,” he writes first, followed almost immediately by another: “Answer me now or I’ll die.” His playful exaggeration masks the truth—he misses you deeply. Every minute that passes without you feels a little too long for him. He can’t help but send these messages, his affection for you pouring out in the most dramatic, endearing ways.

By the time you return home, if you’ve had a good day, you can expect Daesung to greet you with a flood of warmth. The moment he sees you, he is all smiles, his arms opening wide as he practically envelops you in a tight embrace. “You’re finally here,” he murmurs into your hair, holding you with a kind of quiet intensity. “I missed you so much.”

If you hadn’t had a rough day, he would refuse to let go, his arms locking around you as though afraid you might slip away again. It’s not a possessiveness, but rather the deep affection he holds for you—his desire to keep you close, to feel the comfort of your presence. His playful texts earlier were just a small indication of how much he cherishes you, how the simplest moments without you feel incomplete. If you had had a bad day, expect a bath if your preferred temperature drawn for you, equipped with anything you could him for to help you relax. Massage? Solitude? Wine and a meal? Daesung has got you covered, no questions asked.

seunghyun: subtle but sweet

Seunghyun is the epitome of calm when you’re at work, sending the occasional text or casually checking in, but never overwhelming you. He is cool and composed, his messages lighthearted and easygoing, giving you the space you need during your day. It’s clear, however, that he misses you. The moment you walk through the door, the change in his demeanor is subtle but undeniable.

Without saying a word, he takes a few steps toward you, his hand brushing gently against yours as if confirming you are really there, as if his mind needs a little reassurance. He does this repeatedly, not in an overwhelming way, but with soft, fleeting touches—his fingers grazing the back of your hand as you walk past, a hand resting lightly on your shoulder as you take off your coat, or the softest tap on your arm as you sit down. They are brief moments, just enough to remind both of you that he is there, that you are there.

It’s his way of showing affection, of expressing how much he missed you without saying a word. There’s a tenderness in how he keeps his touches gentle and brief, knowing that you’ve been working all day and don’t need any added pressure. But the more he touches you, the more his fondness for you is revealed—his quiet way of letting you know he is happy you are home, and that his world feels a little more complete with you in it.

jiyong: bragging rights

While you’re at work, Jiyong is never far from your thoughts, and he makes sure you know it. He sends you playful pictures throughout the day—pictures of the cats in their most mischievous poses or snapshots of him pulling silly faces. “You could be having so much fun with us right now,” he teases in one message, “but you're at wooorrrkkk ha ha ha.” His lighthearted tone brings a smile to your face, and even though you’re busy, it’s hard not to feel warmth from his affection.

By the time you return home, the energy shifts as Jiyong greets you with that familiar, cheerful smile. “Yay, you’re home!” he exclaims, as though he’s been waiting for this moment all day. He’s already thinking of ways to unwind with you, his favorite part of the day. “Let’s have a nap, or something,” he suggests softly, his tone filled with a kind of quiet contentment. His hands gently pull you toward the couch, and you can’t help but melt into his embrace.

It’s in these moments, when the silliness and sweetness merge, that you realize how much he treasures the simple time spent with you. It’s not about grand gestures—it’s about the little things, like sending silly pictures to brighten your day or wanting nothing more than to curl up together and rest. In his eyes, being with you is the most natural and beautiful thing in the world.

pov: a person talks about wanting you when you’re not around to him

jiyong: secure and confident

Jiyong is the kind of person who exudes nothing but pure confidence, especially when it comes to you. It’s not arrogance; it’s the unshakable security he feels in your relationship, the deep trust and certainty that you two are exactly where you're meant to be. When someone mentions you in his presence while you're away, his smile turns just a bit smug—he can practically feel their gaze lingering, but he knows better.

"She’s amazing, isn’t she?" someone might say, a hint of something more than just respectful admiration in their voice. Jiyong’s response is immediate, dripping with confidence. “You wish she would look at you like she looks at me,” he says casually, the words smooth but laced with a subtle challenge. He knows that no one can take your attention away from him—not even if they tried.

"Want her?" Jiyong continues, his tone almost mocking now, his confidence radiating like a shield. "Get in line. You’ll be waiting for a long, long time." His smirk deepens, and there’s an almost playful menace in the way he claims you. It’s not that he’s territorial; it’s just that you’re his, and he’s fully aware of it. No one else stands a chance, and he has no qualms about making that clear.

He’s secure, so secure in the bond you share that he doesn’t even need to raise his voice or act possessive. His quiet self-assurance says it all. You are his, and there’s no room for doubt. Even when others try to make their presence known, Jiyong’s smirk tells them everything they need to know—he’s not worried, not jealous. He’s too busy being confident in the fact that you chose him, and that’s more than enough.

daesung: chaotic and lighthearted

Daesung’s reaction to jealousy is a little more chaotic, a lot more playful, and full of the kind of silly energy that only he could pull off. When someone dares to show interest in you while you’re out, he doesn’t hold back. The moment the interaction happens, he’s already making his presence known, albeit in his own quirky way.

“You want her?” he says loudly, with a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Well, that’s too bad! She’s already spoken for… by me!” His voice rings with exaggerated confidence, a mix of playfulness and possessiveness, though it’s all in good fun. It’s clear to anyone within earshot that he knows you would never leave him, and he’s just having a bit of fun with the situation. He’s not worried, but he sure does like making his claim known.

But it doesn’t end there. After the interaction, Daesung can’t resist sending you a message, a mix of amusement and endearing insecurity creeping into his words. “Someone told me this, can you believe it?” he writes, adding a string of laughing emoticons. “Tell me I’m your favorite right now.” His playful tone betrays how much he craves that reassurance, even though he knows you’d never even consider anyone else.

It’s in these moments that Daesung’s bright nature shines through—he’s not afraid to be a little extra when it comes to you, and he loves making sure you know just how much he values you. There’s something so charming about the way he mixes his lighthearted teasing with his unwavering affection for you.

seunghyun: collected and soft

Seunghyun, ever the composed figure, handles the situation with a quiet, collected air. When another man makes his interest in you known, he stands firm, his demeanor cool and dismissive. “Cute,” he might say, the words measured and calm. “But she’s happily with me, so I’d rather you didn’t say all that. It’s disrespectful.” His voice remains steady, his expression neutral—he has no need to raise his tone or escalate things. He’s confident in your relationship, and he knows that no one can truly take you away from him.

But as he returns home to you later, the interaction lingers in his mind. Seunghyun has always been secure in your love, and you make sure he knows you choose him every day. Even so, there’s still that fleeting, subtle twinge of insecurity—something he won’t fully admit but can’t quite shake. It’s the way his mind keeps replaying the encounter, and despite his outward calm, he can’t help but feel a little put off by it all.

When you greet him, sensing something is off, you offer the reassurance he needs in your usual way. “That guy was probably ugly as hell anyway,” you tease with a playful smile. “I hate him.”

In an instant, Seunghyun’s posture shifts. The slight tension that had been pulling at him dissolves, replaced by a softer, possessive warmth. His gaze softens, and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he takes a step closer. “You are so wanted by many,” he murmurs, his voice tender, but with that unmistakable edge of possessiveness that only he could express so gently. His hands wrap around your waist, tugging you flush to his torso, a smirk spreads across his face. “But you are all mine. I don’t like to share.”

His words, though possessive, are laced with affection and a kind of quiet pride. It’s not about control or doubt—it’s about the way he cherishes you and the security he finds in knowing you are his, always. With that, the lingering insecurity melts away, and all that remains is the warmth of his love for you.

pov: you have a moment of insecurity

seunghyun: actions are louder than words

There’s a moment, one of those quiet, unspoken instances, where Seunghyun sees a part of himself in you. It’s subtle, but it cracks his heart just a little bit—watching you wrestle with your own insecurities, feeling that weight of self-doubt that he’s familiar with all too well. He’s not one to say much about feelings, preferring instead to show them through actions. So, when he sees you struggle, he doesn’t need to fill the space with words right away.

Instead, he pulls you closer to him, his arms wrapping around you with that quiet certainty you’ve come to know. His hands slide through your hair gently, the motion soothing, a physical reassurance that he’s here, that you’re safe, that you are seen. He lets you vent, allowing you the space to voice your frustrations, your fears, whatever is troubling you in that moment. He listens intently, his touch a grounding force, offering nothing but patience and understanding.

When you’ve said everything you need to, and there’s a fragile silence between you, Seunghyun’s voice breaks it softly, but with an undercurrent of sincerity that can’t be denied. “You don’t need to be perfect,” he says, the words carefully chosen, weighted with meaning. “I love you exactly as you are.”

It’s a simple statement, but it carries the weight of everything he feels for you—the love that doesn’t demand perfection, the acceptance that goes beyond superficial flaws, the devotion to the real, raw person you are. In that moment, his words are not just reassurance; they are a promise. A promise that no matter what, you are enough for him, just as you are.

daesung: pure loving disbelief

Daesung is completely astonished when he hears that you’re feeling insecure. To him, you are nothing short of perfection—an angel sent from heaven, someone so effortlessly radiant that the very idea of you doubting your worth confounds him. He can’t fathom it, and his heart aches at the thought that you might not see yourself the way he does.

Without a second thought, he showers you with affection. His voice, warm and genuine, fills the air as he starts to heap compliments upon you, one after the other, each word more sincere than the last. “You are incredible,” he says, his tone full of admiration. “No one could ever compare to you.”

As if his words weren’t enough, Daesung’s hands are all over you, not in any overwhelming way, but in a gentle, comforting manner. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose—each kiss infused with love and tenderness. The rhythm of his affection is steady, like a gentle reassurance that you are more than enough, more than what you give yourself credit for.

And, slowly, as his kisses and words sink in, you begin to feel it—his love, his unwavering belief in you. “Don’t let anyone make you feel less amazing than you are,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice full of certainty. The softness in his voice carries a deep, protective warmth, and as you look at him, you can’t help but smile. His ability to see you as perfect, just as you are, fills you with a newfound sense of confidence. In his eyes, there is no one better than you.

jiyong: tender, simple yet meaningful support

In your moment of vulnerability, Jiyong’s presence is a steady, calming force. He’s not one to rush in with words; instead, he allows the silence to stretch between you both, giving you the space to gather your thoughts or share whatever is on your mind. His quiet understanding fills the space, an unspoken comfort that lets you know he’s there, ready to listen if you choose to speak.

When the silence lingers, he finally reaches for your hands, his touch warm and gentle. His fingers move in slow, soothing circles, a soft reassurance that grounds you. He lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes filled with sincerity and a depth of affection that words could never fully capture.

"I’m not going anywhere," he says, his voice low and steady, the promise wrapped in every syllable. "You are the best thing I could ever ask for."

His words are simple, but they carry the weight of everything he feels for you—his unwavering commitment, his deep love, and his absolute certainty in who you are. In that moment, his reassurance is all-encompassing, easing the weight on your heart, making you feel cherished and secure. With Jiyong, you never have to worry. He is there, always, loving you exactly as you are.

i hope you enjoyed reading those! my requests are open if you have anything you’d like from me

thx for reading!

[kesadoll]

♡ CWS MDNI 3.3k ♡ black!femreader, ex-athlete/mechanic!nanami little bit of an age gap {r: 19~20 || n: 25}, fondling, oral {f}, overstimulation, missionary, unprotected but his pull-out game strong, he’s a disrespectful gentleman & such a pleasure dom ♡, {petnames: baby, good girl, darlin' || she calls him ♡ kento/‘ento ♡}

♡ sum. geto's gone ghost, & your car needs some fixing up so you can start racing.... pt.1 ♡

kesa's note idk i need that BAD i think you can def read this without reading pt.1, but still go give it some love! thts where a lot of context is, but if u just here for daddymi I don't blame u babe♡ also here's what i imagine nanami with his lil accent sounding like asks & reblogs always welcome!

it had been a couple of months since you and geto had your little night together. just like you hoped it wouldn’t, it definitely turned out to be a one time thing. yuji and geto had a falling out over him finding out geto had been hanging out around sukuna, and that was that. no text message, no calls, not even a “let me show up at your house cause i see your brother’s car is gone.” you felt used and embarrassed to say the least, but the only person who knew anything of it was nobara, who told you there had to be a reason why, though she didnt think it was right herself. you tried not to think too much of it, still going with your brother to races, occasionally seeing geto who always tried to avoid eye contact with you. bitch.

it was a regular friday for you: wake up, go to class, go to your nail appointment if you had one (you did, opting for pink medium-length square nails), go to your hair appointment also if you needed it (this time you just got a wash and trim, letting your hair breathe), and running some other errands that depended on how much money you had in your pocket for that month. you wore your usual outfit for these types of days, a grey 2-piece set with a pink shirt underneath.

yuji, got you an early birthday present about a week back, and it was a car! now whether or not he did it to flex on geto and sukuna, you didn't know, but you were forever grateful regardless. the car was white and sleek on the outside, the inside pretty much being all back. the car coincidentally was a sports car as well, nobara pushing you to race with her even more. since you decided to promise her you’d race next weekend, you figured you should probably take the car to nanami so he can dope up your car like he’s done with pretty much everyone in your friend group.

you finally pulled into the driveway of nanami’s shop, watching as he began pulling a loop of chains that made the large garage door open. he kept them open until you pulled in, closing it once you were lined up with the car lift.

“nanamiii~” you said as you got out of the car, blinking a couple of times when he turned on the bright fluorescent lights. you watched intently as nanami looked over your car, making sure the tires were buckled before he elevated it enough so he could look under the hood of your car, no problem.

“hey miss y/n,” he spoke quite calmly, his sleepy southern drawl pulling at your heartstrings. this only highlighted the bags that you could see under his eyes, making you frown once you saw he still had a little bit of a limp from his old injury. 

nanami used to be a pretty damn good baseball player. from the ripe age of seven, he’d always had a passion for it. he got so good that by his sophomore and junior years of high school, he had colleges lining up waiting for him to commit to one of them. nanami had initially gone out of state to his home college down south, but during the last game of the season (which so happened to be a championship game), he tore his ACL and MCL, essentially meaning that he’d never run like he used to ever again. it was heartbreaking for everyone; even the enemy team felt bad for him, but it was even worse for nanami himself, vowing to never touch a baseball (or bat) ever again. 

he kept that promise, busying himself working on cars day and night. if he wasn’t working, he’d be at a bar, drinking and watching the games they’d throw up on the tv there. you knew how much it affected him, even 3 years later. “kento, if you’re hurting, i can reschedule; you know we’re all still worried about you.” you said gently as if to not set off a bomb. 

nanami shook his head, offering you the happiest-looking smile that he could muster, which really wasn't much. “i’m okay, y’know that y/n.” he unzipped his coveralls, letting them hang around his waist. you knew he liked to work like this, but it took your breath every time you saw him like this; his white wife beater perfectly hugged his soft muscles, his little silver chain with a baseball bat pendant decorating his broad chest, tattoos sprinkled across his body. 

“mhmm..well you let me know when you’re under the hood, m’kay? i wanna learn a thing or two so you can rest sometime,” you said as you turned, waving off his protests as you went into his office, sitting behind a desk with papers all over them.

you busied yourself scrolling on your phone, not realizing how much time passed until nanami walked in. “y’okay? i called for ya a lil’ while ago,” 

“oh! i’m sorry i got distracted.” you sat your phone down and got up, making your way outside.

“you still don’t have t’help, if i was really hurt you’d know.” he tried reassuring you again, following behind you and fixing his black gloves.

“mhmm, sure.” 

nanami led you over to the front of your car, popping the hood open and propping it up. he had you standing off to the side, handing him tools or dragging a box of parts over (of course he wouldn’t ask you if it was heavy, opting to go get it himself). he didn’t let you do much of the touching on the inside, especially not when you had your pretty nails and clothes on, the southern hospitality in him wasn’t going to let a pretty girl like you dirty yourself doing a man’s work. he already felt a certain kind of guilt watching you walk away from him, especially with how good your hips and ass looked in those pants of yours.

the two of you talked about plenty of things, though it was mostly nanami just listening to you go on and on about things he never thought would concern him before. shockingly, you even got him to open up about his little hometown that, from your understanding, was in the middle of nowhere. nothing was left undiscussed, even the situation with geto though you didn’t go into too much detail out of your own embarrassment. nanami seemed particularly disgruntled after you told him what geto did, so you thought changing the subject would be for the better.

despite not letting you do much of anything, he still made you feel like you were important. he explained to you what certain parts did and why he was modifying them for racing, and you tried to listen, you really did, but some too many thingamabobs and doohickeys did a lot of things for you to even remember their names. the only thing you really could focus on was that sweet accent of his, and the way his biceps flexed no matter what he did. you noticed the sweat in nanami’s hair, the way it made his buff arms shine, his wife-beater sticking to his body. “wanna take a break?” you asked sweetly, not wanting him to overwork himself, especially for your own sake.

“hm?” he looked up, resting his forearms on the car. “yeah, let me finish tightenin’ this n’ i’ll come sit down.”

you hummed, going back into the office, and washing your hands in the little kitchen area before grabbing yourself a water, nanami came in and took his work gloves off so he could wash his hands as well. he dried his hands on a white towel he had laying on one of the counters.

“here,” you gave nanami the water you had in your hand, making sure he had taken a sip before you bent back down in the fridge to grab another. what nanami didn't account for were your pants being kinda low waisted, so when you bent over he got a VIEWW of your lower back including those back dermals you’d gotten not too long ago.

he shook his head at those nasty thoughts that ran through his head, leaning against the counter with the water bottle already half empty by the time you turned around. “you uh, finally gon’ race?”

you nodded, tilting your head up at him, “mmm, yeah. i promised nobara i’d go to the next one, but i still don’t know. i just don’t wanna see geto you know?”

“if he shows up, he shows up. you have a bunch of people around you who want to see you race, not him.” he tossed the towel over his shower, taking another couple of chugs of his water. he closed his eyes, his pretty blonde lashes twitching ever so slightly with every swallow. 

“yeah?..” he was beautifully exhausted if it wasn’t already clear before. his sharp jaw was complemented by a growing 5’oclock shadow, something about it ignited something in you. who knew a sweaty, hardworking man would have you gawking like this, and reasonably so.

“always. all of us are excited for you, not just nobara,” he finally pulled his lips from his water bottle, his eyes now trained onto you. he caught you staring at him most definitely, a certain kind of smirk pulling at his lips that made your stomach flutter, “you can’t go lookin’ at me like that.”

“what? am i not supposed to look at someone when they’re talking to me?” you rolled your eyes playfully, looking away as to hide your smile, though it didn’t do much. 

“no no no, that’s not what that was and you know it.” nanami’s laugh was low, his large hand finding solace on your waist. “look at me.”

you shifted your weight subconsciously to minimize his touch, not because you didn’t like it, but the warmth of his hands sent sparks through your body. you crossed your arms to try and put on a tough front, lifting your eyes to meet his, “hm?”

he looked at you through low lids, those hazel eyes of his twinkling ever so slightly between his lashes. he just took a good look at you, jaw clenching while his eyes flipped between each one of yours then down at your lips..he licked his bottom lip to bring himself out of whatever trance your face put him in, “you’re jus’ really pretty n’ i can tell you got all done up before you got here, i jus’ d’know if i can keep bein’ a gentleman with you lookin’ at me like that.” 

you leaned just the teeniest bit closer to him. the way his pretty teeth shined, his canine so sharp you wondered how it felt against your neck. “well maybe that’s just what i need.” 

“y’not ready for that,” nanami’s eyebrow raised, thinking. he slowly stepped back from you then made his way around the room closing every blind and locking every door as you watched. once done, he stood back in front of you, those butterflies in your stomach stirring, “n’ i can prove it.”

 “so prove it.”

nanami’s lips met yours with haste. he lifted you like it was nothing, all of those years with baseball and cars not going to waste (bars?). whatever was on the counter he knocked off before his hands moved from your ass to your thighs, wrapping them around him. 

the way he kissed you was akin to a starving animal getting its first meal in a while, but his lips were so soft, he tasted so good, and the way his tongue twirled against yours?? it was something you’d experienced before, but not this good. you brought your hand up to his golden locks, one of his hands placed at your lower back to pull you closer to him. it wasn’t until he brought his other hand up to the back of your neck that you moaned, his lips pulling from yours with that smile of his, kissing down your neck. “so it’s here..” he said in between kisses. 

“kento..” your head fell right on back, giving him the answer he already knew. his lips and tongue twirled and danced against your flesh, the squeezing of your thighs around his waist only confirming his suspicions even more. 

he hummed in response to you, looking up once he finally pulled his mouth away, unzipping your jacket, “i hear you,” he pushed up your shirt over your breasts, revealing the cute white bra you had on underneath. the way you were already splayed out beneath him, pretty brown skin and shy eyes looking away from nanami’s. “you’re jus’ too pretty baby.”

nanami leaned back down and began kissing you again, this time those large hands of his toying with your breasts, hands sliding underneath your bra to toy with your nipples, the noise you made only fueling that ego of his that bubbled in his chest knowing he had you going crazy already. you couldn’t help yourself anymore, your hips grinding forward into him. 

“you need me that bad, darlin’?” he said against your lips, and you helplessly nodded in response. he licked at your bottom lip, moving his hands from your chest down to your bottoms and pulling them down and off with a quick yank. the cold of the counter made you hiss, but you were quickly distracted feeling lips press right above the waistband of your matching panties, “m’gonna fix it for you, jus’ be a good girl n’ relax for me.”

you did your damned hardest, but with the way he pushed your panties to the side and buried his face between your legs, it was hard. with his nose pushed up against your mound his tongue explored every inch of your cunt, lapping up any of your arousal that dared to grace his tongue. he said no words, only humming when you had a good grip on his hair, which he absolutely loved. the way you writhed against his tongue, especially when he sucked your clit up in his mouth, causing you to arch your back so deep you had to hold onto the counter, had nanami feeling full of himself. 

his lil ego was only boosted further when your moans drew out into a long whine when nanami began to tongue fuck you. “kento-!!! ohhhh my godd!~” your entire body tensed up as you came, but nanami never stopped. if anything it only made him keep going besides your babbling pleas for him to slow down, especially when his tongue curled. your next orgasm came just as quick as the last, this one causing tears to bead up at your lashline, thighs almost snapping closed around nanami’s head.

his hands had a firm grip on each of your thighs, making sure you didn’t crush him while you rode out your last orgasm on his tongue. once he pulled away you could finally relax, your breaths heavy, whimpers dripping in ecstasy. “m’sorry baby, she jus’ taste too good.” nanami’s eyes lingered on your pussy for just a moment, admiring how much it was twitching and how wet you were and it was all because of him. “c’mere.”

he got up off the floor, off his knees mind you, grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you back into another kiss. tasting both you and him off his tongue was something so nasty, but you loved it. “i need you.” you reached your hands under that wife beater of his, nails dragging down his chest and stomach. you could feel how nanami’s stomach tightened, followed by him untying his coveralls from his waist, and pulling his basketball shorts and boxers down simultaneously.

“yeah?” your words lit an already big fire inside nanami. you heard little lewd squelching noises as he rubbed his tip against your entrance, your brows furrowing once you felt his tip push inside you. “y’gonna take all this dick, baby?” he said with his face just inches away, watching your brain scramble to find words from you feeling so full off that spongey head of his.

when it took you a little too long for you to respond for his liking, putting a hand around your neck. he didn’t squeeze just yet, but he slid in some more, watching the way that your face contorted, your mouth helplessly falling open. “i asked you- fuck. i asked you a question darlin’..n’ you better answer or else i’m pullin’ right back out.”

“y-yes! m’gonna take it kentoimsorryplease-” you blurted out, mustering all the brainpower you had left just so he wouldn’t pull back out of you. it didn’t matter anyway because you felt how that man twitched inside you at your words, pushing himself in a slow, fluid motion just until your hips met. he had your legs thrown over his shoulders already…he was NOT playing around. 

“good fuckin’ girl..’ he cooed at you through gritted teeth. nanami waited until your body relaxed, at least the best that it could, his hips rolling with every slow thrust. you were choking on moans, only able to get out gasps while nanami rubbed your cheek with the pad of his thumbs, to calm you before both hands were placed on your hips. he pulled you down onto him with every thrust and it drove you crazy. he was stretching you in ways you’d never been stretched, his dick reaching places so far back you thought he was in the base of your lungs.

those sweet moans you let out only drove him mad. nanami picked up the pace quite seamlessly, his eyes never leaving your face as yours closed. he was fucking you sooo good words weren’t an option for you, nor were they even a thought. the most you could do was let your pathetic moans fill the room as nanami threw praises at you left and right, loving the way your cunt squeeze around him and suck him up at every word. 

“haaah- gonna cum soo~”

you couldn’t even get that last word out. nanami was plowing into you at this point, a hand reaching down to rub circles into your clit. to say you were fucked out was an understatement. your eyes were now unfocused, mouth stayed open to make way for those slutty moans you were letting out. though your vision was blurred, and the only thing you could make out was nanami’s chain that danced with each thrust, you knew he was right there with you.

“cum f- shit- cum for me baby, please.”

something about that saying please, practically begging you with the way he repeated it under his breath multiple times afterward, pushed you over the edge quicker than the both of you expected, your cunt clamping down on nanami’s dick and causing his hips to stutter. he kept his thrusts going, helping you ride out your orgasm before he had to pull out quickly, finishing on your stomach and chest. 

“fuck-” he groaned, his hip bucking wildly while he fucked himself into his hand, his head falling into the crook of your neck.

“some gentleman you are,” you couldn’t help but giggle as you reached your arms up and wrapped them around him. 

“yeah,” he huffed against your neck and relaxed in your embrace. After some time he finally sat back up, pulling his pants back up before he grabbed that towel from earlier and wet it with some warm water to clean you up. “i know this s’ backward, but i’d like to take you to dinner t’morrow.”

“oh?” you tried to keep your laugh in, knowing it was tearing the poor man up inside. “of course! and i expect you to be on time, mister.”

“i’d never keep you waitin’, ever.”

orignal works by me ♡ reblogs welcome, do not steal/recreate..

exhusband!reiner next

[turbotaxevasion]

Things I do as a Night Shift nurse that I think the Bats also do

Bruce

sigh, a lot

walk around to stay awake

pretend to shake the computer when it freezes but i know its expensive so i cant break it

turn all the lights off and hiss when someone turns them all the way up

Dick

say "good morning" at 11 pm

randomly dropping that i have a DNR

saying hello to everyone i pass by so they dont think im mad at them bc of my tired bitch face

Barbara

wiggling my fingers on the keyboard so the keys make the fun click clack sound even tho im not typing anything

looking at a file note and going "wow, and on x history month/international x day" to literally anything

seeing an acronym and going "what is that?", googling it, and realizing that i did already know it

guessing random acronyms and never attempting to learn what it actually stands for

Cass

walking quietly so i dont disturb people and accidentally scare my coworkers bc they didnt hear me come up to them

dance with my hands to the music in my head bc full body dancing is socially quite weird

dancing with my full body if i see another nurse (vigilante ig) down the unit (across a building maybe) to communicate like bees

quacking at other nurses (vigilantes ig) when they start to complain

Jason

"do not need me, figure it out or perish" - said to another nurse (vigilante ig)

getting into a philosophical debate with a sundowner dementia grandma and going "ok ms. girl!!! didnt know she was educated!!!" when she tells me she was a teacher and a waitress and a ceo and an engineer and a pilot and an astrophysicist and a lawyer with her single bachelor's of english (i love my ladies pls dont think i dont theyre sweethearts)

"and what inspired this choice?" - said any time a patient (civilian ig) does something not only strange but potentially dangerous but i dont want them to think im mad at them

Tim

40 oz Stanley full of pre-workout

"is it too early to go home?" - said 2 hours into a 12 hour shift

wandering around with my coat on my shoulders like a cape bc its cold in the hallway and forgetting about it until i go into a room and start melting

"i think a shot of ketamine could fix most people but this lady is unfortunately built stronger than that"

Stephanie

braiding everybody's hair bc they found out she could and now can never escape it

calling tim pookie on shift even tho they are not dating (i do this with a fellow nurse that i am alao very good friends with)

debating whether or not she eats, pees, or naps during her break

snacks so frequently in the cave theres a note by the bat-computer saying "do not eat on bat-computer"

Duke

"i should not be awake right now, this is cruel"

"please do not the microwave" - we're missing a microwave and they almost broke this one too

clearing out the work fridge and when ppl complain goes "wah wah wah im [name] and i wanna eat mold even tho im allergic"

Damian

"this place will not be standing in the morning"

"you say im nice but you should know im seething and full of rage"

showing coworkers pics of my cat theyve definitely already seen

[pommenomnom]

"its taking so long" i havent even had my period twice since the 1.5 update, yet some ppl r acting like its been 83 yrs. is patience a word in their vocabulary or do they just think infinikki is made by independent fairies who also dont need to eat or sleep

"they want our money, they posted new banners right after the announcepology" literally it is on schedule for those banners to b running, meaning they utilised every minute they could before then to analyse solutions until they had to make a statement, cause the scheduled post were going to happen

"this isnt enough" its not, but can u imagine the process all of these decisions have to go through to b approved? how every solution needs programming and compensation? theres literally paid bundles for the dye system currency. how r they going to compensate players who already bought those if they change the dye system? and if they have ideas, will higher ups approve them?

"they didnt address all this stuff" its in the statement that they have other issues they r aware of that they r going to b fixing in due time. it even says they cant talk abt it yet, probably cuz the exact decisions havent been made yet or the optimal solutions havent been figured out.

"they said that the retcon was accident, what a lie!" they did not say that, they said they didnt know how to implement this new stuff to integrate it into the story and in their rush to publish the new update, this is the decision they arrived on. they said theyll think of a way to fix this. its not easy, cuz how do u make new players who had the sea of stars tutorial experience the beginning of the game w/o messing up their accounts with non-linear quests. programming is hard and takes time. let those poor employees sleep, theyre not the ceos and investors u r actually mad at.

i know the 1.5 update is a fucking disaster, but with that in mind, of course its gonna take time and delicate work to tackle. you want them to respond and say what? "we hear you and were working on it"? if they have to make that statement every week without being able to disclose what theyre even working on (cuz they themselves arent sure what exactly will be implemented or how, due to needing a green light from higher ups) ppl will just throw a "youre lying!" fit instead. its a lose-lose situation.

u should definitely apply pressure, u should definitely express what it is exactly u want fixed, but complaining that difficult things take time is just not okay. istg ppl have completely lost their ability to patiently wait at this point.

[heartsforkatsuki]

IM LOVING ALL THE WX BAKUGO DRABBLES AND FICS OMG I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS💔

If you do requests could i request a type of exes to lovers story where him and reader kinda got into it cause it seemed like he was cheating ( he wouldnt fucking do that ik its for the plot)

And he thought reader didnt trust him and stuff so it led to them kinda falling out, but they talk and makeup after maybe a few months and everythings slowly okay again 🙏🥲

why hello anon... tysm for the request!! this took a minute, i wrote it liek the day after the inbox but i didnt feel like formatting it until now LOL , here yall gooo!

just right. ｡°✩ k.bakugo

pairing; ex!katsuki x reader

content; katsuki being a stubborn asshole, cheating (sort of), cursing (duh.)

katsuki was the type of guy to be worried all the time. about his job, his friends, and especially you.

but right now? he felt at peace.

these past months were messy, and he spent each second anxious and angry at everyone in sight. but today? these past few days? they fixed everything.

you guys broke up about 6 months ago, and boy, was it messy.

he’d been staying late for work for around 3 weeks before you finally asked him about it.

“hey, kats?” you paused the tv show you were watching and looked over at him.

“yea sweets?” he looked up at you for a moment before going back to chopping vegetables for dinner.

“why’ve you been coming home so late? you usually never stay that late.” you fumbled with the hem of your pajama top.

“a lot of paperwork reports from that recent villain attack, it was a lot of injured civilians and mass crowds.” he shrugged, continuing his cooking.

after that, you let it pass for a bit, deciding it was just work. but then you started seeing him get messages from someone all the time, even at night.

you’d look over on his nightstand while he was asleep, his phone lighting up with messages.

HANAKO: Bakugo, are you awake? I need help with something.

if you weren’t suspicious before, now you definitely were.

after another week of those messages, you decided to ask him about it again.

“katsuki, who the hell is that girl who keeps texting you?” you asked, standing across the kitchen island with your arms crossed.

“what girl?” he asked as he drank his coffee.

“hanako.” you pressed.

“she’s my new secretary.” he shrugged. “remember, my last one got ill?”

“she texts you all the time. even when you’re asleep. you sure that’s just what it is?”

“y/n, what are you trying to imply?”

“i’m not implying anything, i’m just asking you a question.” you layed your hands flat on the counter. “you’ve been coming home at midnight, and when you’re home early, this chick keeps texting you.”

you look to the side where his phone is, lighting up with her name yet again.

“see?!” you threw your hands up in the air hopelessly.

“i don’t see anything because they’re isn’t anything going on.”

“god katsuki, im not blind!” you yelled, waving your hands for emphasis.

“if you seriously don’t trust me, say that!” he yelled back, slamming his mug down.

“maybe i don’t! you’ve been secretive, not coming home and not giving good explanations for it, and this stupid chick keeps blowing up your phone! she’s clearly flirting with you in those messages!”

“you went through my phone?!”

“i.. yes! fuck! i did!”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “you got it, y/n. you freaking got it. i’m out. if you don’t trust me , there’s nothing here anymore.”

after that, he packed his bags and left without a word. you stood, speechless. but if he was cheating, it was for the best.

and right now, you’re sitting together, curled up on the couch of that same apartment, connected by a blanket, watching your favorite movie.

katsuki thought back to how you guys ended up back here. it killed him not having you in his life, but god was he stubborn. he didn’t want to cut no contact and seem desperate, so he kept going with it.

a week ago, you ran into each other at a local bar. he was out with some kirishima and some co workers, and you were out with your girlfriends.

“y/n?” you heard behind you, as you were ordering your drinks at the bar. you recognized that voice anywhere.

you spun around, “katsuki?” you cocked your head to the left.

“how’ve you been?” he eyed you up and down. “you… look good.” he gave one firm nod.

“thanks.” you smiled, softly. god, it’s never been so hard to talk to him before. “you look.. good too.”

you guys chatted a bit, and he apologized for leaving so abruptly. he cleared everything up without really avoiding the topic, thoroughly explaining himself.

“so, yeah. to sum it up, i was an asshole. and i’m sorry.”

“no, i’m sorry, i should’ve never accused you anyways.” you shook your head, waving your hands to wave off his apology.

he paused, as if he was thinking of what to say next.

“can we try again?”

“what?” you stilled in your stool.

“can we try again? dating. i still love you, i was just being a stubborn asshole.”

“i..” you looked over to your friends at the table behind you. they were all giving you thumbs up with smiles of support so, you turned back, “yes. yea. of course.” you smiled.

now, you were watching lady and the tramp as katsuki stroked your hair and kissed your scalp.

“y/n.”

“yeah?”

“i love you, you know that?”

“i love you too.”

yeah, this felt just right.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Had a thought inspired by sub!Aegon being called a good boy combined with my idea that Aegon could be fixed if he just had a soft dom partner. Maybe he lashes out at a problem and just being a brat instead of saying his true feelings so they punish him (lightly no pain Bois been thought enough) and then coax him through explaining why he was upset.

I love how we have all come to the mutual conclusion that Aegon would just thrive on having a wife that doms him and cares for him and gives him not only love but also structure.

I think I'm gonna write this as Aegon's first punishment? Like he and his wife have finally had a talk and he's now hers fully, no more brothels and he goes to her for everything.

This ask is not at all NSFW until the very last paragraph, so just to safe I'll hide it under the cut anyway :))

Aegon has rules he has to follow, rules that only you and him know and he feels so incredibly good when he can go to you and tell you he's been a good boy all day. But of course, the rules are rules because they're not things he does naturally or easily.

One of the rules he has is not to allow his mother to get into his skin and cause him to yell at his small council. It's something Allicent is a specialist at, she'll come to Aegon before the council meeting starts and sow the seeds then already. She tells him of whatever problem she's going to bring up at the small council, and she tells him what she wants him to do.

Immediately Aegon breaks a rule. He's not supposed to entertain this. If his mother has something to raise at the small council. then she must raise it then. He's supposed to tell her to stop talking and that he'll only hear it at the council with everyone else. But he doesn't. He tries, but she talks over him and Aegon doesn't try to stop her again.

So he's already unsettled when the council meeting starts, because he knows he's broken a rule. You sit on his council, of course, you have the seat at his right hand. When you enter the room, you immediately know Aegon has done something wrong. Usually his eyes light up when he spots you, and he'll immediately jump up and pull your chair out for you.

(Sidenote: both Aegon and Aemond always try to pull their wives chairs out for them, but the difference is that while Aemond is all put together as he pulls your chair and stands next to it with perfect posture, Aegon is such a mess, practically tripping over his own feet to have an opportunity to do something for his wife.)

So when you walk in Aegon won't even meet your eyes? You know he must have broken a rule.

He's skittish throughout the meeting, snapping at his advisors, refusing to let anyone finish a full sentence and just generally being very grumpy and unhappy. Towards the end of the meeting, Allicent finally raises the point she raised with Aegon earlier.

She explains everything, and the table is pretty split on the idea. She then looks directly at Aegon and just waits, even raising her eyebrow when aegon was taking too long. It's then that you realise she must have told him everything beforehand and now expects him to agree with her.

When he hesitates, Allicent immediately launches into exactly why this plan is needed and the way she does it is just so... condescending? Like she's looking down on her own son.

Aegon snaps then, yelling at everyone to get out and saying he won't comment on Allicent's plan. When no one moves, he throws his glass of wine against the wall and shouts again for everyone to leave. That seemed to wake them all up, because they all got up and left the room. Allicent was the last to leave, and she was clearly lingering to try and speak to Aegon but Aegon just yells at her again and she leaves.

You, of course, stay right where you are. You don't even try to look like you're leaving. You know Aegon didnt mean you when he told everyone to get out but even if he did, you'd still stay because you knew he needed you.

But, he's now broken three rules. He let Allicent get into his head, he broke something in anger and he disrespected the other small council members.

You wait for him to start talking, and for a moment you actually think he might yell at you to leave too, but then he just kinda sighs and walks over to you. He pulls your chair out a little and then collapses across your lap, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair. You hold him close, of course. Even when he's broken rules, you'd never deny him attention and touches.

You ask what happened, and you make sure your tone is firm enough that Aegon knows he can't get out of this one. After a minute of silence, Aegon softly retells the story of how Allicent came in and belittled him and got under his skin and how he didnt kick her out or refuse to hear it. He goes on to explain how stupid and small he felt when Allicent clearly expected him to agree with her in the meeting and he felt so bad and didnt know what he was supposed to do.

You give him a forehead kiss and a little squeeze, thanking him for his honesty and then taking him back to your shared quarters.

I think really boring, monotonous tasks would be the best punishment for Aegon? Ever since his brothel excursions he can't stand pain, and having to do something boring really does feel like torture for him. Sometimes you'll have him take every item of clothing out of your closet, refold it and put it back in, other times you make him write out lines or copy word for word all the words listed in a dictionary under a certain letter.

This time, you grab a broom and make him count every single one of the bristles. If he loses track, he has to start over.

Needless to say, he's not very happy about his punishment, but he doesn't complain. He already feels like such a bad husband a bad sub, so he'd never complain about what he has to do to become a good boy again.

You stay in the room with him, reading a book and glancing over at him every now and then. You'd never ever let him be alone while he completed his punishment.

Once he's finished, you smile at him and put your book down before opening your arms for him to come for cuddles. He jumps at the chance, just about tripping over his own feet in his haste to be in your arms. The moment he's there, he grips you tight and nuzzles his head against your neck.

You start out by asking him why he broke those rules, what stopped him from following them. Aegon struggles to find the words, until eventually he just says that Allicent makes him freeze and feel like a little kid again who can't make his own decisions. He explains further how overwhelmed and unsettled he was at the meeting and how that caused the outburst.

When he's finished explaining, you immediately give him a little squeeze and kiss his head and then both his cheeks, You remind him how much you love him and how utterly perfect he is for you and then you start to go over some ways you could possibly prevent him from breaking that rule again.

But most importantly, once that is done you give him a proper kiss and tell him that he's forgiven, he's okay again, he's till your good boy.

Of course this never fails to make him cry, but you expect that by now and know that the best thing you can do it just give him a little time to calm down while you hold him.

When he looks ups at you it's like you can see that a weight has been lifted off shoulders. Not only do you forgive him, but he forgives himself too.

And then of course you can't resist slipping a hand down his breeches and letting him come apart on your lap. He deserves it.

[ghostlynightpanda]

Hihi, i kinda have a long req

Could you do chuuya with a wife who suffers from short term memory loss and other memory issues, and when she was young, her parents put her in this institution with a bunch of doctors who experimented on her n stuff. The doctors told her parents that she wasnt capable a fixing (but that was just a lie so that her parents could forget about her and didnt want to take her back, which they did) and now she hates doctors? I imagine she maybe escaped the institution like a long time able bc thats from her childhood. And also since she has memory issues, she sometimes confuses her friends or other people with the people from the institution.

So anyway, chuuya comes home one night and he assumes reader is asleep, and while hes in like the bathroom or smth he heres noises from the laundry room next door. He goes to investigate and finds reader hiding in the drying or washer (shes used to hiding from the doctors n stuff when itd be time to experiment on her) and hes like what are you doing there?? Then she explains that she accidentally spilled all the wine in his liquor cabinet and that she couldnt clean it up bcz when she tried to her fingers and toes got cut up from trying to clean it up, so she panicked and tried to hide before he came back. (Btw she ran to hide bcz she got him confused with the doctors from the institution)

Then chuuya has to explain that hes not the doctors and is her husband while hes cleaning her hands and feet and like fluff at the end plz?? Tyyy🥺

(P.S. reader is usually super bubbly, clingy, and airheaded, but when she sees people she thinks are the doctors she gets quiet n stuff)

Everything That Isn’t Broken

snyopsis: After a long day of work, Chuuya comes home to a dark, quiet apartment, assuming you’ve simply gone to bed early. But when he discovers the broken wine bottle, the cuts on your hands and feet, and the panic rising from old, buried trauma, all he wants is to hold you close and remind you you’re safe.

content/warnings: Chuuya x wife!reader, past trauma, fluff, 2.732 words

The door clicked softly behind Chuuya, the familiar scent of home wrapping around his tired bones like a favorite blanket. He rolled his shoulders back, working the tension out of his muscles as he toed off his boots.

Dim light pooled from the hallway, but the apartment itself was almost completely dark. Unusual. Normally by this time of night, the soft hum of your voice or the flicker of the TV would greet him. Maybe you humming some off-key tune while folding laundry, or bouncing over to tackle him at the door like a puppy starved for attention.

But nothing tonight. Just quiet.

For a second, his heart skipped—but then he caught himself. You were probably already asleep. He had stayed later than usual.

He huffed out a small, crooked smile and ran a hand through his unruly red hair. "Tch… my girl's knocked out, huh? Figures."

You never complained about his work. Never once pouted or guilted him about coming home late, not even when he dragged himself through the door well past midnight. Always waiting for him with that big, dopey smile of yours, arms open wide like you were hugging the whole world just because he was in it.

Honestly? He didn't deserve you. He knew it.

That's why he put little box of your favorite chocolates down neatly on the entryway table, the glossy wrapper catching the faint light. He'd picked them up on the way back from the Port Mafia headquarters. A peace offering—not that you'd ever need one.

"Tomorrow," he murmured to himself, tugging off his gloves and dropping them beside the box. "Gonna take you somewhere good tomorrow. Beach, maybe. Haven't seen you in that sundress I like in a while."

The image of you flashed in his mind, bright and warm like the sun on Yokohama Bay. Your laugh, that little hop in your step when you got excited, the way you'd cling to his arm like it was the only thing keeping you standing. His expression softened even further, the hardness of his day melting from his features.

Yeah. Tomorrow would be yours. No Port Mafia. No reports. No late-night meetings. Just you. Hell, maybe the zoo. You always lit up like a kid whenever you saw penguins—and if there was anything Chuuya Nakahara would move heaven and earth for, it was that smile.

He remembered the days when you didn't smile. When you were only a shadow of the person you were now. Back then, when he first found you, it was at that institute. That so-called hospital. Your parents had left you there. Memory issues, they'd said. Untreatable, the doctors claimed. What a load of bullshit.

Maybe it was true—you forgot certain things easily. You kept a checklist by the door every time you left the apartment: lights off, stove off, iron unplugged. Maybe you forgot names, mixed up birthdays, misplaced your keys daily.

So what?

That didn't make you broken. That didn't make you unworthy of love, of a home, of kindness.

But to your parents, it had been enough to abandon you. Easier to dump you in that clinic, to accept the lies the doctors fed them, and never look back.

And with that came the punishments. The experiments. The kind of life no living thing deserved.

He remembered the day the Port Mafia raided the place, breaking down sterile white walls and locked doors, finding rooms filled with hollow-eyed, forgotten people. But it was you who caught his attention.

Yeah, you looked sick. Pale. Empty in a way that hurt to see. But even then—you held your head up, stubborn and proud despite everything they'd done to you. Broken, but unbowed.

That was what struck him. That was what he admired most.

He kept an eye on you during your recovery, watching from a distance at first. And when you started smiling again—tentatively, softly—he worked up the courage to ask you to coffee. Not a date. He didn't want you to feel pressured. Didn't want you thinking you owed him anything just because he'd been part of the raid that saved you. Just coffee.

That one cup of coffee turned into two. Weekly meetings, soft conversations, slow trust. After months, coffee turned into dinner. Dinner into dates. One step at a time, with all the time in the world if that's what you needed.

Now here you were. In your shared flat. Married for almost two years. Happier than either of you had thought possible.

Chuuya smiled softly to himself as he rolled his sleeves up on the way to the bathroom, already picturing you curled against him under the covers, your limbs tangled with his like vines climbing up a tree.

But just as that warmth began to bloom in his chest, a faint sound caught his ear.

Clink.

It was soft. Barely audible.

Chuuya paused. Brow furrowing. It came again, just barely—a soft, metallic noise, like glass shifting against tile. Close.

Utility room.

Immediately, the comfort of the evening chilled, that old Port Mafia instinct sparking behind his ribs. He moved silently, footsteps careful, calculating—not that he expected an intruder, but something wasn't right.

"Y/N…?"

Silence.

Then—

A breath. Sharp. Almost a whimper.

His stomach dropped.

Without hesitation, Chuuya moved for the door, layers of worry wrapping around his heart.

"Babe?"

The door creaked as he eased it open, revealing the dim shape of the utility room beyond. The weak glow of the hallway light spilled over the tiles, pooling just enough to catch on something red.

Wine. A splatter of it, smeared across the floor like blood.

And there—you.

Huddled inside the open mouth of the dryer, your knees tucked tightly against your chest, shaking like a trapped animal. The sleeves of his shirt you wore hung off your shoulders, wrinkled, stained dark by droplets of wine. And in your trembling hands—

Glass. Shards. Glittering cruelly against your skin, thin red lines already beading across your fingertips where you must've tried to clean it up.

His heart stopped. Actually stopped.

"Angel?" His voice cracked, low and hoarse, panic curling under his tongue before he could stop it. "What the hell are you doing in there?"

Your head snapped up, wide eyes shining wet in the low light. But you didn't see him. Not really. You looked straight through him—like he was someone else entirely.

"No, no—I didn't mean to," you whispered, your voice so small it broke him in half. "I was careful—I tried—I didn't wanna—I don't want to go back, please—please don't—I'll be good—"

It hit him like a freight train.

The doctors.

The memories you tried so hard to bury had clawed their way back up, twisting reality into something cruel. And right now—you weren't here, in your cozy little apartment with your husband—you were there, terrified, begging not to be punished.

"Shit…" Chuuya breathed.

He crouched low, hands raised slowly, carefully—like approaching a wounded animal ready to bolt.

"Sweetheart, it's me," he said gently. "It's Chuuya. I'm not them. You hear me? You're home. With me. Your husband."

But you flinched when he moved, curling tighter into yourself, pressing further into the dryer's metal walls.

"I—I didn't mean to—I spilled everything—messed it up—I didn't wanna get hurt—don't put me back in that room—don't—"

Fuck.

Chuuya's throat burned. Seeing you like this—his sunshine, his bubbly, clingy, hopelessly sweet wife reduced to this panicked shell—it tore something open inside him.

"Babe, hey. No one's gonna hurt you," he whispered, his voice almost shaking now. He lowered himself even further, practically on his knees in front of you. "No doctors, no experiments, nothing. You're safe."

Slow. He reached out—not to grab, not to force—but just to offer, palm up, steady despite the chaos roaring in his chest.

"Can you give me your hand?" he asked softly. "I'll fix it. I'll fix everything. I swear."

For a long second, all he could hear was the rush of your breathing, sharp and uneven.

But then—

Your gaze faltered. Your lips trembled.

"…Chuuya?"

Relief hit him so hard his knees nearly buckled.

"Yeah," he said quickly, nodding. "Yeah, it's me. It's just me, doll. I'm right here."

Your small, shaking hand lifted, hovering above his—and then finally dropped into his palm, fragile and warm, stained with red and streaks of wine.

He caught you like you were made of glass.

"You're safe now," he murmured, pressing your fingers against his lips. "No one's ever gonna hurt you again."

And with that, he gathered you into his arms, broken glass and all, cradling you like something precious.

The wine could stain the floor, the broken bottles could cut his hands—it didn't matter.

You were all that mattered.

And he wasn't going to let you break, too.

The cuts on your hands were small, mostly—but there were enough of them, delicate little red lines tracing over the soft curves of your fingers. Worse were your feet, tiny shards of glass embedded in the soles, crimson staining the skin in streaks like war paint.

Chuuya's jaw clenched at the sight of them, fury and helplessness twisting sharp under his ribs—not at you, never at you, but at the ghosts that wouldn't leave you alone. At the people who had done this to you. The ones who taught you to be afraid of mistakes. Of accidents. Of being human.

Those bastards should've been buried decades ago.

But for now, there was only you. You, small and shaking in his arms, trusting him even through the haze of panic.

"I got you," he murmured, carrying you carefully to the bathroom. "I'm gonna take care of you, alright?"

You nodded numbly, cheek pressed against his chest, like you were embarrassed to even be breathing too loud. That alone made his heart ache worse than the sight of blood.

Gently, he set you down on the closed toilet lid, crouching in front of you.

"Okay, doll, this might sting a bit—but I'm gonna be real careful."

His voice was softer now, lower. Not the voice of the Port Mafia's executive. Not the feared weapon Chuuya.

Just your husband.

Chuuya wet a clean towel with warm water and started carefully wiping away the wine from your hands. He avoided the cuts at first, just cleaning the sticky residue, before moving on to the first aid kit he'd kept under the sink.

"Look at me," he said after a moment, tilting his head up toward you. "Don't look at the blood. Just me."

Your eyes lifted, glassy but clearer now, drawn to him like gravity. You were trying—you were always trying—and that alone made him want to wrap you in bubble wrap and never let the world near you again.

"There she is," he whispered, smiling faintly. "That's my girl."

He cleaned each wound with precision, steady despite the tightness in his chest. Every wince you gave nearly killed him, but he didn't let it show. He dabbed antiseptic gently on each cut, kissed your knuckles one by one when he finished.

The glass in your feet would take longer, but he wasn't going to rush it. Not with you flinching at every sound, every shift of his weight.

"I'm sorry," you finally whispered, breaking the silence like something fragile cracking. "I—I know you'd never hurt me, I just… I got mixed up. The doctors—I thought—I thought it was happening again—"

"Stop." His voice was firm but not angry. He cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing under your eyes.

"Don't apologize. Not to me. Never for that."

You blinked rapidly, like tears were still catching, stuck behind disbelief.

"Do you know how lucky I am to have you?" he asked softly. "You could burn this whole apartment down and I wouldn't give a shit. Long as you're still here, breathing, with me."

Tears welled again, slipping down your cheeks now in slow, hot streams.

"But I ruined your wine—"

"Wine?" he snorted softly, pressing his forehead to yours. "Sweetheart, if I wanted wine, I'd go buy more. I can't buy another you, can I?"

A breathy, broken laugh escaped you, barely there but enough to lift the crushing weight in his chest.

"That's better," he murmured. "That's the laugh I wanted to hear."

His fingers threaded through your hair, holding you steady, holding you together. His voice dropped even lower, rough but full of unshakable love.

"You don't have to be scared of me. Ever. I don't care what your brain tells you sometimes—I'm never gonna be those bastards. I'm your husband. And I'm here."

You gripped his shirt tightly, pressing your forehead against his, grounding yourself in his warmth, his scent, his steady heartbeat beneath your palm.

"Tomorrow," he added softly, brushing his nose against yours, "we're gonna go somewhere nice, yeah? Beach, zoo, wherever you want. Somewhere with sun and stupid snacks and dumb penguins, whatever makes you smile."

You let out a wet laugh, hiccupping softly through tears.

"Penguins," you whispered.

"Damn right, penguins," he grinned. "And after that, we'll come home, drink wine without the glass shards, and maybe I'll finally get you in that sundress I like."

You blinked at him through your tears, lips trembling—but this time with the start of a real smile.

"'Kay," you whispered, nodding slowly. "That sounds nice."

"Yeah," Chuuya breathed, brushing your hair away from your damp cheeks. "It's gonna be real nice, doll. Just you and me."

He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, wrapping you up in his arms like a promise.

Everything else could wait.

The bedroom was dark now, the only light coming from the faint city glow filtering in through the curtains. Yokohama's heartbeat outside was distant, muffled, like it knew this little corner of the world needed to be quiet tonight.

Chuuya lay on his back against the pillows, one arm curled securely around your waist, holding you close against him like you were something fragile—and you were—but not in the way most people thought. You weren't weak. No, never that.

You were delicate in the way that mattered most: precious.

Your cheek rested against his chest, breaths warm and damp against the fabric of his shirt. He could feel how your breathing had slowed—shaky exhales at first, but steadily softening into the gentle, uneven pattern of someone about to drift off.

He hadn't let go of you for a second. Even when he carried you here after bandaging your feet, even when you'd curled against him with your hands still trembling, he'd wrapped himself around you like a shield, like a promise.

Now, in the quiet, he could finally breathe too.

It hit him slowly, like waves lapping against the sand. This—holding you, your weight pressed over his heart—it soothed something in him. More than wine. More than sleep. More than the thrill of a fight or the rush of adrenaline that his whole life seemed built on.

It wasn't just that he comforted you.

You were his peace, too.

Your soft breaths against his chest. Your warmth soaking through his clothes, your hair tickling his jaw, your fingers curled lightly in the fabric near his ribs.

He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve you. And yet—here you were, trusting him even with your scars, even with your broken pieces, even when your mind pulled you into places so dark he wanted to tear the world apart for ever letting it happen.

He pressed a kiss into your hair, lingering, gentle, as if he could press every word he couldn't say into you with that single touch.

You saved him every damn day—and you didn't even realize it.

Without you, he was just a weapon, a glass of spilled liquor, a storm barely held together by a suit and tie.

With you—he was home.

As your breaths evened out, that last little shudder of panic finally leaving you, Chuuya closed his eyes.

His hand slid up your back slowly, steady, protective.

"I've got you," he whispered into your hair. "I'll always have you."

And for the first time that day, his own heart finally felt steady too.

Masterlist

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

dilf jason, my love, my light, my life

fuck whatever bruce did to you and everyone else that didnt care enough to reach out

Jason booted up the little bank of computers and watched the lights in the house. Frowning when you didn't click out the bedroom light. You should go to bed. It was Just Dick. It would be-

"You know he was just... scared right?" Dick said, watching Jason work out of the corner of his eye. Looking at the couple wallet-sized school pictures and a wedding picture tucked into the corner of a bulletin board. Reminding him, Dick guessed of what he was protecting.

"And I figured it was time to retire. You know. Before I was too broken and decrepit to enjoy it," Jason said shrugging.

"Jay-"

Dick froze, glancing between Jason and the door and swallowed hard when you pushed the reinforced shed door open. "In here, baby," he confirmed.

"Does she know?" Dick hissed.

"Enough," Jason shrugged, pulling out a stool for you. Happy that you'd grabbed a shawl at least before coming outside in booty shorts and a tank top. "Where's Boris?"

"Guarding the stairs," you answer. "He'll come get me if the kids need something."

"Boris?" Dick asked, "Which one is that?"

"The wolfhound," you answer shortly before looking at Jason. "What can I do?"

"In the drawer by your knee there's a communicator," Jason said, "Pull it out for me. Then maybe make some coffee? I don't know how long this'll take."

You nod and grab the device out of the drawer before kissing his cheek, "Snacks too?"

"You're an angel," he hummed. You were his wife. This was Your house where you were raising your kids before he was ever even a thought. He couldn't tell you to stay away. But- if coffee and some snacks would keep you occupied a little longer, he'd ask for it. Especially if it meant keeping you away from his old life.

"Mhmm," you huff, eyes narrowing.

Jason half smiled and rubbed his nose against yours, "My angel."

"I don't appreciate the sweet-talking, Todd," you tell him, melting anyway. You know he wants you out of the way. But hell if you really want to go.

Dick coughed, "I don't mean to be rude but-"

"So don't," you tell him. Fixing him in your patented 'act right or catch a left' look.

"This could be a little time-sensitive," Dick said putting his hands up in surrender.

You look back to your husband and sigh, "And our wedding wasn't?"

"To be fair," Jason chuckled, helping you off the stool, "I didn't invite them. Bruce can be a kill joy."

"Still," you huff as you adjust your shawl, and hop off the stool"with his penchant for plucky orphans you'd think he'd wanted to have meet his new grandkids."