#the realization that it had to end this way

[bunnis-monsters]

Becoming the Queen

Bee hybrids x Fem!Reader

warning: oviposition, orgy, breeding, oral

WK: 5k

A/N: I hope this is alright for a Valentine’s Day special… this is a commission, hehe. The lovely members on kofi got to see this 2 weeks early ><

It was early, the grass you trudged through to get to work still wet with the morning dew. You never truly enjoyed waking up before the sun rose, but you loved what you did and could never give it up.

You were a florist, owning the only flower shop in the county. People from all over would come to buy a bouquet, and you were up to your head in flower arrangements by the late afternoon.

Some customers were kind, tipping you well and making sure their flowers were well taken care of. Others got on your very last nerve, daring to say your flowers seemed old or wilted.

It took everything in you not to leap over the counters. You could take people insulting you, but no one could insinuate that your flowers weren’t perfect. You grew them yourself, preening and watering them to perfection.

As you neared your flower shop, you noticed there were more customers than usual waiting outside. Usually most of your sales happened after 10 am, not so early in the day.

But as you took out your keys and looked up, you realized that not all of them were there for flowers.

One of your windows was broken, shards of glass covering the floor and a bit of blood staining the windowsill. Something has smashed through the glass!

And from taking one look into your shop, you realized that they hadn’t just broken your window.

Bouquets lay strewn across the cool tiles, petals blowing in the wind as you opened the door. Someone or something had been in your shop and had ruined your carefully arranged bouquets.

A shard of one of your potted plants crunched under your foot as you took in all the damage that had been done. It would set you back several weeks.

“Damn it…”

Although it frustrated you to no end, you brushed off your skirt and set off to the back, grabbing a broom and getting to work.

After getting the mess up and opening up the shop, you tried your best not to think about what destroyed your inventory. You focused on your work instead. It was always easy to lose yourself in a good book while waiting on your next customer, but today your mind kept wandering back to potential culprits.

There were a group of teenagers that vandalized a restaurant a block away last week. At the local boba place, someone had been stealing the boba and straws. It wasn’t unthinkable that the other incidents may be related to what happened earlier that morning.

You closed the shop for the night, sighing as you zipped up your hoodie. It was way too cold, you’d have to bring your coat tomorrow if you planned on being out this late.

It couldn’t be helped, you had to stay after closing to contact clients and refer them to other florists that could get their arrangements done now that the ones you prepared were ruined.

Thankfully, most of your clients were kind enough to overlook it, but you received a few earfuls that you couldn’t complain about. At least they weren’t leaving a bad review…

The night air made you shiver. You rubbed your arms and continued on home, dreading tomorrow. There was so much work you’d have to redo, and money you would lose out on.

‘I hope there’s going to be enough money left over for me to pay my bills this month…’

You were stirred from your thoughts when you felt a chill go down your spine. For a moment you just assumed it was the frigid temperatures making you feel this way, but something was off.

The world around you was quiet. The way home had sparse light, and before that night you had never been afraid of the dark. It comforted you, in fact.

But as you froze in the middle of the path, your heart thumping against your chest, you realized that there was a sound that drowned out everything else. You hadn’t noticed it at first, and now it was almost unbearably loud.

A buzzing filled the air, and you quickly had to cover your ears as it only increased in volume.

You picked up something else, the smell of honey. Slowly, you opened your eyes.

It took a moment to fully comprehend what was before you. There were several humanoid silhouettes surrounding you, and their outlines were… fluffy?

“Is this really her?”

“Yes, I told you she was soft!”

“And she makes the flowers bloom?”

“Yes, yes!”

A hand reached out to tilt your chin up, and you were face to face with some kind of insect-like creature. It was taller than any man you had ever seen, with big black eyes and yellow… fluff? Fuzz? You weren’t sure, but these things didn’t have normal human skin.

“Ah, she’s just as pretty as you said.”

The other creatures let out a satisfied buzz, encircling you. They all seemed rather curious and excited, lifting up parts of your clothing and examining you.

“H-hey!”

When you yelped, they all backed off, seeming confused and a little hurt. “Wh… what the hell are you… things? Why are you following me!?”

The leader stepped forward again, a bit sheepish but understanding. “Sorry… we saw how upset you were about the mess we made and-“

“You all caused that mess!?”

They all let out whines and upset buzzes as you groaned. The entire day had been a nightmare you’d wake up from soon. It had to be.

“I’m going to bed…”

You moved past the group, but they followed after you, seeming concerned and nervous.

“But you’re coming with u-“

His mouth was covered by another’s hand. “We’re sorry for the mess. Please, we’ll help repay you tomorrow. So… don’t be too angry.”

It was hard to stay too angry with them, they sounded genuinely remorseful and a touch sad. “… alright, but you’ll need to be here early tomorrow.”

You went to bed, figuring that this would all be over once you had a good night of sleep. There were no strange bee-like creatures in your front yard, no difficult messes to deal with, just a bad dream.

Unfortunately you were very wrong.

Walking outside with your hot coffee and sporting your pajamas, you were met with several expectant faces.

“You’re awake!”

You stood there for a moment, blinking sluggishly before staring down at your coffee. After blinking a few times, you breathed in and out.

“So… you are real then.”

The creatures were bee hybrids, a species you heard about before. Hybrids weren’t exactly uncommon, but it was rare for insect based hybrids to leave their hives or nests to interact with humans.

They did keep their promise and help you prepare bouquets the entire day, pollinating your flowers and following after you baby ducklings with their mother.

Unbeknownst to you, the bees had been watching you for a while.

It started when they lost their queen.

For months she had been bedridden, and no eggs were laid. Of course, the bee hybrids were much more concerned about their beloved queen than eggs, but she was beside herself with worry.

“Who will take care of you when I’m gone?”

The queen knew she was well past her egg bearing years and was going to die soon. After all, what purpose did a queen have when she couldn’t expand the hive?

“Don’t say things like that, your majesty. You won’t leave us…”

They were stricken with grief after her passing, nearly a year went by before they even considered a new queen.

Their last one had been a bee hybrid born in that very hive. Wanting to keep the tradition of raising a new queen wasn’t possible since she had only ever birthed sons.

Not wanting to take the chance of foreign bee hives trying to spy on them by giving them a female, the bee hybrids looked elsewhere for their next queen.

You happened to be a perfect match.

Not only were you beautiful and plump as a good queen should be, your kind nature and gentle heart told them you would be an amazing mother to the little ones.

The only problem was getting you to the hive.

“She’s so pretty, I love her…” said one of the bee hybrids, his wings fluttering as he watched you remove the thorns from some roses.

“She is. I want to stuff her full of my e-“

The others turned red and buzzed at the horny bee. “H-hey, don’t talk about the queen like that!”

“But that’s what everyone’s thinking…”

The worker bees pouted, flying around you and offering pollen or honey. The guards watched from afar.

Most of the bee hybrids were not what you would call… intelligent. But there were some that ran the show and made all of the important decisions.

“We’ll take her soon. Our hive needs a queen, and if we don’t get one soon, everyone will go mad. We need a queen to mate and protect, it’s what keeps us calm,” said one of the guards, his stinger twitching and ready to attack.

“But she loves working with the flowers. What if we put a strain on her mind? If she is unwell, our hive will suffer with her.”

That was true, the bee hybrids’ productivity and mental well being depended on you. If you were depressed, they would be as well. Not only that, they’d be constantly trying to cheer you up and become worse if you remained in that state for too long.

“I think I know what we can do to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

~

You had never felt so tired in your entire life. The day hadn’t been so tough, but as you closed your eyes to go to bed, suddenly your body felt so heavy that you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to get up.

Sleep took you, and when you woke up everything seemed… different.

Your usually stiff bed felt incredibly soft, your body melting into the plush material.

“Ugh…”

The moment you let out a groan, you heard the sound of buzzing and frantic voices.

“The queen is awake!”

“Oh, my queen are you alright?”

“Hurry, prepare her breakfast and bring the towels for the bath!”

You rubbed your eyes as you listened to the bustling around you. When your vision was no longer blurry, you could hardly believe what you were seeing.

No longer were you in your small bedroom in your modest home by the forest. The walls of your room were shaped like a honeycomb… no, they were a honeycomb. You could even see the amber colored liquid pooling at the bottom as some bee hybrids scooped it up.

You were laid out on a king sized bed, with thick blankets and plush pillows surrounding you like some kind of nest.

Surrounding you was a swarm of bee hybrids. Some were teeming with excitement and giddy energy, while others peeked around their fellow hybrids with curiosity. The ones closest to you, though, seemed a mix of concerned and nervous, fretting over you.

“Oh, what if she isn’t feeling well? Should we give her some honey?”

“Breakfast first, she can have honey on toast or biscuits.”

“Humans really eat honey in that way?”

While you struggled to get your bearings, they continued to flit about the room doing various things to acclimate you.

“Where… am I?”

Every single one of the bee hybrids paused, their attention solely on you. Several whispered among themselves as their gaze stayed on your plump figure.

“You’re home, my queen.”

A taller, less fluffy bee hybrid walked forward, his expression neutral. He kneeled before you, taking your hand and raising it to his mouth for a kiss.

“Q-queen? What do you-“

All at once they all rushed forward to dote on you. Your body was covered in kisses, and you could feel their soft fluff almost everywhere.

“My queen, we’re so happy!”

“We promise you’ll have a good life here, no more stress or worry!”

Gentle nips and bites were pressed into your sensitive neck and thighs, hands moving to caress and grope all of your body.

You were still groggy, and immediately began to warm up when one hand found its way to your inner thigh. When you let out a startled moan, the bees on the bed began to buzz and focus on that spot.

“Our queen is sensitive!”

A few of them pried your thighs open, inspecting your bare cunt and giving it a few experimental touches and licks. Had they undressed you beforehand?

Their tongues were long and thin, delicate against your slowly hardening clit. You could tell they were all excited by the way their buzzing increased and their bodies shook.

Your scent filled the air, attracting more bee hybrids from the hall. The ones on the bed touched and fondled your sleepy body as the others watched from the sidelines.

Your face heated up when you realized they were stroking their cocks, their eyes glued on your body and the way it was being played with by their peers.

There was no chance to react or cry out in protest, you were being too overwhelmed by pleasure. One of their tongues entered your cunt, making your eyes widen and your fists clench the silk bed sheet underneath you.

“She likes that, don’t stop.”

You felt one of them latch onto your breasts, their long tongue swirling around your nipple. Their antennae tickled your face, and you felt completely overstimulated.

Every touch made you twist and buck your hips, it was hard to control yourself. Never before had you felt such intense pleasure, and it was making you see stars.

‘This has to be some sort of wet dream…’ you thought to yourself, squishing your plush thighs together. ‘Might as well enjoy it…’

“Is she ready yet?” one of them cooed, nuzzling their fluffy face against your neck.

“Not for eggs, but…”

The others backed off, and a smaller, more feminine looking bee hybrid climbed on top of you. He was still at least half a foot taller than you, but tiny compared to the others.

“H-hello, my queen…” he chirped shyly, giving your cheek an affectionate nuzzle. “I’ll be the one to mate with you first…”

He was even fluffier than the others, and his cock was already twitching against your thigh. It was more long than thick, and had a pinkish, orange color.

You reached out to touch it, your fingers wrapping around his length. This made the smaller bee hybrid gasp, his hips bucking wildly in surprise.

The other hybrids stepped closer, buzzing with both excitement and jealousy. Already, the single male was receiving all of your attention… they all wanted a turn!

Fortunately for you, they had been ordered to give you space. This would be your first time with a bee hybrid, and if they weren’t careful, they could end up hurting their precious queen.

Your health and well being meant more to them than anything else.

“M-my queen, ahh!”

His eyes glistened with flustered tears as you stroked his cock, honey colored precum seeping out of the tip. You couldn’t remember the last time you had pleasured yourself.

If this was a dream, you were going to have fun.

You laid on your back, pulling the hybrid in by his hips. It was clear out of the two of you, he was the one lacking experience.

“Oh, you’re so pretty my queen-“ he blubbered out, his hips rutting against yours as his cock settled between your pussy lips. You could feel his tip kissing your clit, and it was enough to have you both let out a shuddering moan.

“Mmph…”

You kissed him, letting his long tongue slip down your throat as you moved your hand to guide his cock towards your entrance.

The moan he let out in your mouth as he sunk into your fat cunt was sinful, and out of the corner of your eye you noticed several of the bees were fucking their fists to the sight of you being fucked by one of their own.

“T-too good! I’m gonna-“

His cum spurted into your womb, he was finishing before he could even properly thrust in and out of you. You were going to whine about it, but something caused you to pause your complaints.

While his cock twitched inside of you, it swelled up, and before you could question what was happening, eggs began to pool into your womb along with his cum.

The feeling of them being fucked into you, stretching your pussy out as the eggs were laid inside of you made your head spin.

Your pussy clenched around the eggs, and before you knew it you were cumming harder than you ever had before. You arched your back, tears running down your cheeks as you rode out your high.

By the end of it, you were a mess. Cum from both you and the bee hybrid pooled around your thighs, soaking into the expensive feeling sheets.

“This… isn’t a dream, is it?”

The hybrid gathered around you, some cooing over your spent, naked body while others were desperate to have their hands on you.

“It’s no dream, my queen!”

“We all love you!”

“Let’s get you to the bath, you deserve to relax!”

You let out a tired sigh as you were carried away. The tub was nearly as big as your bedroom back home, and several of the bees joined you in the warm, pleasantly scented water.

You could smell fresh flowers and honey, and you let out a sigh of relief when several pairs of hands went to work massaging your sore muscles. A pair of two slipped between your thighs, toying with your sensitive clit and feeling around to make sure all of the eggs were safe and sound inside of you.

“Is the water warm enough, my queen?”

Hands cupped your breasts, giving them a playful squeeze before rubbing honey scented soap into them. “Mmph, yes, it’s good…”

You glanced down at your belly, noticing it poked out slightly. The memory of how the eggs felt being pushed inside of you made your cheeks heat up.

This was all a lot to process. If this wasn’t a dream like you had originally assumed, then that meant you had been taken away to a bee hybrid hive and made into a queen.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions…” another bee said, giving you a sympathetic look. “But you don’t have to worry, we’ll cater to your every want and need. You’ll never want for anything.”

Deciding a fight wasn’t worth it, you sunk back into the warm water, letting yourself be pampered and taken care of for now.

“… I want to talk to whoever is in charge here.”

The two hybrid bathing you shared a look before speaking.

“That would be you, my queen.”

You placed a hand on your temple, rubbing it before replying. “I mean, who decided that I would be queen? Surely someone here has been making decisions regarding the hive while there was no queen.”

A silence fell over the room, the only sound being the water droplets falling from your skin.

“Well… I guess that would be the council. Are you requesting a meeting with the council, my queen?”

You nodded, and the two stood before getting you dried off and dressed. They were obedient, doing exactly as you asked. “Are you sure, my queen? You still need your breakfast and-“

“I’m sure, take me to the council.”

The walls of the hive were made of honeycomb, unsurprisingly. Each section contained a bee hybrid that was hard at work, making honey while chattering amongst themselves.

“Haven’t you heard, Bumble? There’s a new queen, and she’s a pretty one too!”

“Yeah, she’s already had her first batch of eggs too!”

“That’s not fair, I wanted to give the queen my eggs first!”

You avoided making eye contact with them, your cheeks hot with embarrassment again. It flustered you to know their words were causing your panties to grow wet.

Hiding was useless, though. The scent of your arousal caused the bee hybrids near you to react. Their antennas twitched while their cocks hardened the second your scent reached them. It was an immediate reaction that had you hiding within the safety of your guards as you were escorted to the council.

“My queen, what brings you here?”

You stood before the council, looking up at their pleasantly surprised faces. There were around 30 of them, all sitting in a half circle. Papers were piled next to each bee, and even while their full attention was on you, their hands still moved to work on the papers in front of them.

‘Busy and a bee’ was a phrase you heard a lot growing up, and as you watched them flit about the room, writing and shouting orders all while keeping their eyes on you, it finally dawned on you how accurate it was.

“I came here with questions. My first one is why am I here?”

They paused their work for a moment, and some shooed away any bees that weren’t in the council before shutting the doors.

“… as you may know, bee hybrid hives consist mainly of males,” one of the council members began, standing and walking towards you.

“Female bees are not born often, meaning that we cannot run a hive without… taking a female on as our queen,” another finished, setting aside a stack of finished papers.

“It’s also a great way to diversify the hive and prevent… inbreeding.”

You raised an eyebrow as the bee hybrid stood in front of you. He was nearly 10 feet tall, and crouched down in front of you, taking your hand before kissing the back of it.

When he looked into your eyes, they sparkled with devotion. “Our undercover agents have been watching you for months. You’re kind, and you love nature. You must know that without a queen, our hive will die out within a year.”

It was hard to look away from his dark orbs. The way he looked at you made your heart race.

“I know that we took you away without asking, but we cannot let you go. Please know that you will be treated with the utmost care, and you will be pampered beyond belief.”

For a moment you stayed quiet, your expression softening. “… what would be expected of me as queen?”

The entire council perked up, some leaping out of their seats in excitement without warning. They quickly returned to their work when the leader gave them a warning glance.

“You only have a handful of responsibilities each day. You greet the public, bond with the children, attend diplomatic meetings, and… breed with your loyal subjects to create your children.”

Your face heated up at the memory of your morning session with the pretty bee hybrid.

“And… I do these every day?”

They nodded. “Diplomatic meetings are less frequent, but everything else is daily.”

Daily… you’d get fucked like that daily?

‘Am I really going to abandon the life I’ve been living for the past few years just to get a good fuck and some pampering?’

Yes. Yes you were.

“Alright… I’m in. Not like I have much of a choice in the matter anyways…”

The bees surrounding you let out happy whines and buzzes. You were surrounded once again, being nuzzled and pulled into fluffy chests. They were all scenting you, obviously happy you were going to be their queen of your own free will.

“Then let’s get you some breakfast, my queen. You have much to do!”

Breakfast was filled with lots of chattering among your current attendants. They were fluffy, jealous things that lounged about in your quarters, burying their faces into your soft body and gossiping amongst themselves.

Once you were done eating, you were escorted to your first duty as queen.

“I hope your royal attendants behaved well. They are just excited to have a queen to dote on again. If you have any sexual needs or desires, they will perform them for you. And do not worry, they cannot produce eggs, so they exist purely for your pleasure and entertainment.”

It seemed strange, but your attendants seemed quite happy and spoiled, so you continued to follow the councilman in charge or guiding you.

“This is the nursery.”

The walls had the same honeycombs as the rest of the hive, but in each one was a crib and a sleeping babe. On the carpeted floor, toddlers waddled and crawled about, playing with toys as they got in their daily exercise.

Almost like a switch had been flipped, their tiny heads turned towards you. The closest baby bee tears up, their tiny, chubby legs struggling to carry them forward as they toddled their way over.

“M-mama!”

Every child within hearing range made their way over, clinging to your legs and fussing as they attempted to crawl up. They held onto your clothing, suckling on any bare skin they could find in an attempt to nurse.

“H-hey, I’m not your-“

The bee hybrid next to you sighed softly. “They won’t listen. You have the scent of their mother now, they want you to hold and feed them.”

Their little eyes were getting red and puffy from crying, they couldn’t understand why their mama wasn’t holding or feeding them.

It was really tugging at your heartstrings. They were just so little, you couldn’t imagine having a baby and how their innocent minds would try to process your death.

“Hey… it’s okay, mama is right here.”

You sat down, letting them climb into your lap and arms. A team of bee hybrids joined you, helping to bottle feed and soothe them.

“Once the eggs in you begin to grow, you’ll start lactating and will be able to feed hordes of the baby bees,” the councilman said, watching how the young ones bonded with you instantly.

“For now, though… you just need to give them your attention and care. They need it.”

As the little ones were laid down for a nap, you were able to sneak out and leave for your next appointment.

“The entire hive knows there is a new queen, gossip gets out fast,” the councilman said as you ate some lunch. Your attendants were playing with your clit, all cooing over how sensitive and hard it was getting under their touch.

There seemed to be no shame with them. You were sitting in the middle of the cafeteria and no one batted an eye as your fat pussy lips were pulled apart so they could lick and fuck your hole with their long tongues.

“However, you’ll still need to make an official appearance in front of the hive… that, and we’ll need to start the breeding ceremony.”

You were having trouble focusing, your fingers tugging on the hair of the bee between your legs. “C-ceremony?”

“Yes, my queen. It is customary for every bee hybrid to take a few days off of work to come and greet the queen. They all get their turns to mate and fill you with some of their own eggs.”

The ceremony began later in the evening. You were brought out before your loyal subjects, dressed in lacy lingerie and placed on a bed.

You felt less like a beloved ruler, and more like a breeding cow being brought out to be sold to the highest bidder.

Every bee bowed before you, dropping to one knee as they waited for you to speak.

“My loyal subjects…”

Just the sound of your voice sent a shiver of excitement through the crowd. You could see them shaking, few already hard and struggling to keep their hands off their pink, throbbing cocks.

“You have all been gathered here for the… breeding ceremony. As thanks for working as hard as you do, you all get a turn to…”

Again, your cheeks began to warm up. You couldn’t believe you were saying this. “… you all get a turn to breed me, your queen. I will take your eggs and incubate them, ensuring your bloodline will continue.”

With that, you laid down. The councilmen ushered forward a group of bee hybrids, and the breeding commenced.

They didn’t want to hurt you, that much was for sure.

Most of the bee hybrids were several feet taller than you, though some stopped at only a few inches above your head. No matter how much they towered over you, their touch was still gentle and hesitant.

None of them had ever touched a human before, much less mated with one. Your body was so sensitive, responding to every nudge and movement of their hands.

One of them sunk their fingers into your cunt, another offering you their cock. You took it into your mouth, causing them to buck their hips.

Your pussy gushed around their fingers.

“S-she’s getting all wet… my queen, is this good for you?”

“Yes, that means she’s excited! You can mate with her now!”

Each cock that entered you was different. Some were short and thick, others thin and long, but a few were both so girthy and long that you felt like you were being split in two.

At one point you were being fucked while jerking off two other bee hybrid and blowing another, trying to please as many as your subjects at once as possible.

The first creampie was almost soothing, the feeling of eggs filling your needy cunt was… mind blowing. You felt so fulfilled, you wanted to be fucked like this forever.

After the tenth bee hybrid though… you were so stuffed full you could barely think. Your tummy was stretched out, looking just about ready to burst.

“Oh, so pretty…” a bee chittered, rubbing your distended belly. “Our queen is doing so well…”

After another five bees had their way with you, the councilmen stepped forward. “That's enough for now, she needs her rest.”

Your attendants were quick to descend upon the bed, buzzing threateningly at every other hybrid that dared to even look at their exhausted queen.

“You truly did do well…” one of them cooed, kissing your temple after they bathed you then tucked you into bed.

“Sleep, you’ll need your rest. Tomorrow will bring even more eggs.”

As you laid down, curled up with a bee hybrid cuddle pile, you couldn’t help but look forward to tomorrow.

You were already becoming an amazing queen… and it had only been a day.

————————

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[plutotheplum]

His Eyes All Over Me

sylus x fem!reader

summary: ever since experiencing sylus' frenzy, you find yourself feeling strange. it all comes to a head after your movie date.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, kissing, vaginal fingering, oral sex, blow job, p in v, knotting, scent kink, praise kink, breeding kink, aftercare, brief switch!sylus

w/c: 6.1k

a/n: guys idk what happened all of a sudden i was possessed and the breeding kink just appeared <3

also on ao3!

I know exactly what it means, which is why I’m accepting this.

Sylus’ cryptic words leave you confused as the movie ends. It wasn’t even meant to mean anything in particular, although perhaps that was just you convincing yourself that you were in total control of this situation. You were giving the feather to him as a kind gesture, nothing more. 

… Fuck, had he seen it as more? 

A dull throb spreads out from across your temples, your fingers itching to pull out your phone and simply search up whatever it is he meant.

Why did feelings have to be so complicated? 

You bite back a groan, slumping back in the car seat, an irritated look passing over your face.

“Something wrong?” Sylus’ smooth voice cuts through the silence, his eyes glancing towards you as he drives.

“No,” you manage out, trying to stop your voice from dipping into a grumble. You sneak a glance at his face, only to find your gaze dipping to observe the way his long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, the muscles in his forearms flexing with every move after he’d rolled up his jacket sleeves.

Ever since you’d managed to stop him from descending into a Praedator’s Frenzy, you’d found yourself suffering from a strange affliction. Yes, you had been terrified when you were trapped in that large birdcage with him, panic racing through your body as you tried to stop his sanity from unravelling any further and yet… you’d been embarrassingly aroused.

The way his teeth had sunk into your earlobe, his fangs scraping and vicious against the delicate skin of your neck. You had liked it in some sick sense. The heat that pooled between your thighs was because of Sylus, his feral nature and tight grip on your hips had made your mind swirl, his low, rasping voice, the slight rut of his hips into your ass- 

You needed a cold shower. One with actual ice, preferably.

The car rumbles to a stop, and you get out agitatedly, cursing under your breath when you realize Sylus was following you in, up to your apartment. It isn’t hard for you to notice that Sylus has taken note of your change in behavior, his hands shoving into his pockets as he stares at you.

“Something is wrong,” Sylus muses, tilting his head in a searching manner. “What? You didn’t enjoy the movie?”

“It was fine,” you reply shortly, playing with your fingers. “I think I’m coming down with something.” A blatant lie to a man who probably knew you better than you knew yourself. You clear your throat, coughing a little exaggeratedly. “A cold.”

“A cold,” he echoes, dipping his head to stare down at you scrutinizingly. You yelp when he grabs at your wrist, his fingers pressing against your pulse point. Sylus’ eyes darken, his playful expression fading as his lips thin, his voice a low hiss. “Liar.”

“That’s-” you grumble, pulling your wrist free from his grasp, “that’s unfair.”

He stares down at you for a moment longer, his eyes searching. You squirm under his gaze, heart fluttering a little when he cocks his head to the side before straightening up.

“If you didn’t enjoy my company, you should’ve just said so,” Sylus drawls, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

You roll your eyes, huffing out a breath as you step out the elevator. “I wasn’t lying because I didn’t enjoy your company.”

Your current predicament was actually because of the contrary; you were finding that you were enjoying his company a little too much. You kick your shoes off when you get inside, hearing the soft lock of the door as Sylus closes it behind him. 

When he stares at you blankly, you shoot him an unimpressed look, gesturing towards your couch. “Make yourself at home, Sylus.”

“I don’t remember my former roommate being so… cruel,” he sighs, sounding aggrieved. “Especially after rewarding me with such a heartfelt gift.” Sylus grins devilishly, his lips curving upwards, eyes glinting with amusement. 

You flush, cheeks feeling hot with embarrassment.

“Whatever you think it means,” you snap, glaring at him in an attempt to hide your own flusteredness, “it doesn’t mean that. I was being nice, okay? Because I am a nice person!”

“Right,” Sylus laughs lowly. It’s a derisive sound, mocking and aggravating enough to have you bristling with anger. You watch as he moves until he’s leaning against the back of the couch, his ankles crossed over each other, arms crossed over his chest. “You were being nice.”

“I was!” you protest, body growing warmer. “You’re just being weird and- and sauve because-” 

“Because?” Sylus presses, narrowing his eyes.

“Because you have a crush on me!”

Shit, shit, shit. 

You don’t even know where the outburst came from, but your hand is slapping over your mouth as you stare at Sylus, feeling utterly mortified. You were totally projecting.

“A crush,” he echoes, clicking his tongue as he examines you.

“I- I didn’t mean that,” you blurt out, voice all pitchy and panicky. “I only meant that-”

You squeak when he reaches you in a few measured strides, his calloused fingers squishing your cheeks together until your lips pucker out like a fish. 

“No?” Sylus murmurs, raising his brows, “pray tell, Miss Enforcer, what did you mean?”

“I… I don’t know?” you offer meekly, fidgeting under his grip, desperate to be let free.

Sylus’ nose nudging against your cheek causes you to stiffen, his fingers loosening their grip on you to instead stroke across the skin of your jaw. You let out a soft noise when he cups your cheek, his hands maneuvering your head until his nose grazes across the length of your neck, his breath hot as it fans across your skin.

“And if I did?” he asks, pressing himself closer, arm dropping to wrap around your waist tightly. “Have a… crush as you say.”

“Then- then-” you struggle to form a sentence, biting your lip to muffle any more damning noises that could be used against you.

“Then?” Sylus cajoles, his voice low and lilting, nose pressing firmly into your throat as he sucks in a sharp breath, savoring your scent.

“Then that would be embarrassing!”

You shove at his chest, stumbling a bit, still hazy from his closeness and intimate ministrations. Sylus holds you in place with his gaze, his arms crossing over his chest and you swallow down an indecent sound when you see the slight flex of his biceps underneath the fabric of his jacket.

The kitchen counter grounds you, your fingers pressing against the cool marble. It feels hard to breathe, and rather you’re the embarrassing one, having lost your nerve the moment he had gotten too close.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” Sylus asks, cocking his head to the side, his shoulders rolling lazily. 

“Notice what?” you shoot back, grasping for a glass and filling it up with water before chugging it down rapidly.

“Stop playing stupid,” he replies, his grin mirthless. “I smelt it on you the moment you stepped into that birdcage with me.”

Now he was saying you smelt bad? 

“Smelt what?” you scoff, partially offended. You turn your head, angling it down towards your shoulder, trying to sniff yourself subtly. 

Sure, maybe you were a little sweaty, but he was making you nervous! You frown at Sylus, and he rolls his eyes, his hand reaching out to grip your chin, tilting your head upwards, towards him.

“Your arousal,” Sylus rasps, his eyes pinning you in place. “Wetness, slick, whatever you wish to call it. I can smell it, Miss Enforcer.”

Your face pales, humiliation washing over your expression, stomach twisting uncomfortably with embarrassment. Whatever thoughts are currently occupying your mind fizzle away, replaced by a sense of overwhelming mortification. 

You open your mouth to respond and clamp it back shut, thinking better of it lest you embarrass yourself any further. Perhaps there was no point to having a sense of dignity, seeing as Sylus had clearly torn it to shreds. 

“The Frenzy Enhancer doesn’t only enhance a Praedator’s Frenzy,” Sylus murmurs, tugging your head back when you avert your gaze, forcing you to meet his eyes. “It heightens our senses; for the purpose of making it all the more agonizing when one is deprived of delivering a bite.”

The LCBI had neglected to include that little fact in your training. You swallow nervously when his thumb traces down your cheek, over your jaw and presses against the jumpy pulse in your throat.

“Even now,” he continues, his other hand fisting your hair to tug your head back further. You yelp at the pain that sears across your scalp, fingers scrabbling at his chest as he presses his nose to your throat and inhales again. “You’re enjoying this, Miss Enforcer.”

“I- I am not!” you protest, doing your best to sound offended and hide the traitorous heat that was currently swirling low in your stomach with every fan of his breath against your skin. “Your nerves are clearly misfiring; d- damaged probably,” you sputter, “after your Frenzy.”

Sylus laughs hoarsely, his eyes lighting up and you know your pathetic excuse hasn’t worked.

“Stop fighting this,” he says, still sounding amused, his eyes softening slightly when he sees how flustered you’ve become. “You don’t stand to gain anything from pushing me away. Haven’t I made my intentions clear?”

“It’s complicated,” you murmur, “you’re- you’re you-”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, raising his brows.

You huff out an aggravated breath, refusing to be cornered.

“Nothing. I only reacted that way because you seemed awfully wanton in that birdcage,” you hiss heatedly, waving your hands about. “Not to mention uninhibited.” 

“I was hit with a Frenzy Enhancer,” Sylus snaps, his fists clenching. “Yes, I was uninhibited, but I was not wanton.”

Your lips purse as you consider Sylus’ response, remembering the way he had arched his back in his frenzy, the subtle buck of his hips when you’d placed your hand on his pec. Not to mention the groaning and well… whimpering. The feeling of his teeth on your ear hadn’t exactly helped in the moment either. 

There’s an itch in you to get the last word in.

“You were wanton,” you argue, shooting him a stubborn look.

“I could have killed you,” Sylus murmurs dangerously, reaching out to grab your hands, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Sometimes a bite isn’t enough. I could have torn you apart, limb by limb until you were all but a severed, bleeding mess on the cold floor. Would you have liked that?”

You can’t say you would’ve, remembering the Praedator attack all those years, but this Sylus and there’s a foolish part of you that hopes that he would have been able to reign in his base desires.

“I’m still in one piece,” you mumble out, “besides, I know how to handle myself.” You sneak a glance down at the way his hands are holding yours, lips pursing as you feel the warmth of skin bleeding into yours. It’s too much for your poor heart, really. “You can let go now.”

“No,” he says quietly, his voice softer as he dips his head, the tip of his nose grazing yours. “I know you want this. I want this.”

You bite your lip at the pleading tone in his voice, heart stuttering in your chest. Sylus’ voice seems to wrap around you, and you peer up at him when he presses his forehead against yours, letting out a heavy exhale.

“Are you going to make me beg, hm?” Sylus muses, a smile pulling at his lips when he sees your lips twitch. “Please?” he whispers, his voice low and soft and somehow the sweetest you’ve ever heard Sylus. “I’ll be good, Miss Enforcer. Please?”

An incoherent noise escapes you, fingers tightening into his jacket as he steps closer, his body flush against yours.

“Will you let me have you?” he whispers, nosing into your cheek. “...Or perhaps you don’t want me to ask. Maybe you want me to lose control like I did in that birdcage. Growling and snapping and feral.”

Sylus was driving you insane. Your body feels hot, mind blank as a shaky breath escapes you when he grazes his fangs against your neck, his breath hot. You can feel how sticky your panties have become, thighs pressing together to try and soothe the ache of your cunt, aware of the overwhelming emptiness of it.

“Do you deny it, sweetness?”

“No,” you concede, your voice trembling, “no, I don’t.”

He hums, nudging impossibly closer, tongue darting out to lave over the erratic pump of blood in your throat. You open your mouth, a quiet mewl leaving you as he smiles against your skin, his lips pressing a heated kiss to your sensitive skin.

“Is that so?” Sylus muses, his hands drifting down to grasp your hips. “Such a shame you’ve waited so long to confess,” he continues, his voice low and purring, “had you asked me earlier, I would have given you my cock; no questions asked.”

“You- you would have?” you ask, your voice strangled as he kisses your neck again.

You can hardly catch up with what’s happening when he spins you around in his arms, his chest flush against your back, arms wrapping around your waist tightly.

“Yes,” he soothes, his fingers wrapping around your throat to tip your head back against his chest. “So many opportunities wasted,” he sighs, clicking his tongue. “I could have had you bouncing on my cock days ago, had my tongue buried inside of you, pounded into you until you were crying, bred you on my knot-”

“K- knot?” you squeak, head snapping to meet his eyes, “I thought that was a myth.”

“Hardly a myth,” he sighs, fingers dipping lower, delving under your skirt, “Praedators have knots, sweetness; intended to-” you gasp when he presses the pads of his fingers against your damp panties, stroking gently, “intended to lock us together.” Sylus smiles against your cheek, revelling in your wetness that was soaking through. He increases the pressure of his fingers, rubbing harder. “And I fully intend to knot you, Miss Enforcer,” he whispers, lips drifting across your cheek in a fleeting kiss. “Oh, don’t look so scandalized. You’ll be begging to be bred the moment I cum inside of you.”

Begging to be bred? Cumming inside? He was going to cum inside? You were most definitely going to die tonight; although perhaps part of you was resigned to your fate, his obscene words making you greedy and leaving you wanting more. 

“Please,” you whimper, rolling your hips against his hand, grasping at his wrist to press his fingers against your clothed pussy more firmly. “I- I want that.”

Sylus lets out a hoarse grown at your whimpered confession, his fingers tugging your panties to the side.

“You’re dripping,” he hisses, fingers sliding through your puffy folds, “so, so wet, baby. Smells like you’re in heat.”

You really had to do more research on Praedators. Maybe you were in heat with how bold you had become, no longer stifling your noises, too far gone to care.

“That’s it,” Sylus rasps, rubbing your slick over your folds before sliding his fingers up to rub against your swollen clit. “Oh, it must ache,” he coos, beginning to rub tight circles against the throbbing bud, “I can feel how needy you are.”

Your head bobs up and down in rapid nods, ass pushing back into him as you rock your hips, whining when he circles your clit and squeezes your throat at the same time.

“Oh- oh fuck-” you mewl when he hunches over you a little, his breath quickening as he presses his hips into your ass like he had done a few nights ago in that birdcage. “Sylus!”

“So wet,” he mutters as though in a trance, his chin resting on your shoulder, fingers speeding up. “Shall I give you my fingers, baby, hm?”

“Y- yes,” you whine, dragging out the word into a low hiss, your nails digging into his forearm.

A sharp gasp leaves you when he eases one finger in, another following suit quickly after. It’s nothing like the feel of your own fingers, Sylus’ are longer and reach much, much deeper. You feel full already, head dropping forward as you moan raggedly, pushing at his hand to try and stuff his fingers inside of you even more.

“Greedy little slut,” he growls, his fingers crooking inside of you, “so needy and wanton, aren’t you? Pushing me away when what you really want is this - my fingers inside of you, my hand wrapped around your throat, my cock rutting into your ass.”

“I do,” you hiccup, mouth dropping open as you continue to moan, hips swaying back to meet his rutting, the everpresent press of his hard cock against you making your cunt drip with arousal. “Ah hah- I do want this.”

“Yes, you do,” he whispers raspingly. “Take what you need then, baby, take my fucking fingers.”

And you do take his fingers with soft cries and needy gasps and desperate whimpers. Sylus quickens his pace, tightening the hold he has on your throat when you try to squirm away, the lewd sounds of pussy embarrassing in the quietness of your apartment. He breathes heavily against your ear, panting as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, his hand turning slightly to add his thumb to the mix.

You arch your back against him when he rubs your clit, turning your head into the crook of his neck, mewling as you try and bounce, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers. Sylus snarls when you clench down on his fingers tightly, his face pressing into your neck, fangs digging into your skin as he leaves harsh, biting kisses. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you begin to chant, your hand sliding into his hair, fisting it and tugging as you roll your hips needily, panting raggedly. “‘m gonna ah- ‘m gonna cum, Sylus.”

“Yeah?” he rasps, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, careful to not let his fangs sink in too deep. “Cum on my fingers then, grind that wet, little pussy all over my hand and cum, baby.”

A sharp gasp leaves you, fingers clutching at his wrist when he fucks his fingers into your pussy faster, his thumb unrelenting on your swollen clit. You moan brokenly when he kisses your neck, tipping your head to the side to bare more of your neck to him. Sylus growls, his kisses trailing upwards, his lips soft behind your ear.

You cry out when he sinks his teeth into your earlobe, feeling the way his fangs bite into the delicate bone of your ear. It’s just like in the birdcage, you think dazedly. He ruts into your ass harder, and the ragged panting coming from him is enough to make you come undone. You try to steady yourself, but it’s impossible with the way your thighs tremble, head tossing back as you cum around his fingers.

“Good girl,” he breathes out when you shudder and quake in his arms, his grip tightening to prevent you from falling when your knees buckle. Sylus kisses your cheek, dragging his lips to pepper soft kisses along your jaw as you ride out the last few waves of your orgasm, his fingers still stroking over your clit gently as your cunt clenches. “Good girl, sweetness, you did so well for me.”

Chest rising and falling rapidly, you drop your head back against his chest, leaning against Sylus for support. You whine softly when he pulls his fingers free, his hands petting over your skirt as he smooths it down over your thighs.

On shaky legs, you turn, arms wrapping around his neck. He hugs you closer, his head lowering as his nose brushes against yours gently.

“Be mine.”

Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses you, deep and longing. He squeezes at your waist and your hands drift, from his shoulders to his cheeks, cupping them to bring him closer, to kiss him more desperately.

Both of you stumble into the kitchen table, Sylus’ hands landing on either side of you as he deepens the kiss. You whine when he licks at your lower lip, mouth opening obediently for him. He groans and you let your hands drift, pawing at his trousers, palming at the material to feel the hard bulge of his cock, hot and thick and throbbing faintly against your hand through the layers of fabric. 

“I want it,” you whisper against his lips, kissing him feverishly. “I want your cock, Sylus. I- I want you to-” you can hardly believe you’re about to say this, but the thought of it ignites a heat inside of you, an overwhelming need to be completely at his mercy. “I want you to breed me.” 

His crimson eyes flare, hands reaching out towards you, pulling your shirt up over your head. You make an indignant sound when he hurriedly pulls your bra off, moaning in succession when he pinches your stiffened nipples.

“I can do that,” he murmurs, pulling at your skirt and panties too, until you’re bare. “I’ll breed you, baby.”

A laugh bubbles out of you when he picks you up, arms wrapping around his neck and legs around his waist. Sylus’ steps are practised as he strides into your bedroom, tossing you onto your bed. You bounce a little, regaining your balance before crawling towards him, nuzzling into the bulge of his cock.

“‘s big, Sylus,” you whisper, watching with hazy eyes as he pulls his jacket and shirt off in a smooth motion, his defined abdomen on display. You tug at his belt and he tugs it free, pushing his trousers and boxers down to reveal his cock.

It’s thicker than you’ve seen before, the tip of it blushed angrily, pre-cum smeared across the head. Your mouth waters, inching closer to run your tongue against the length of his cock, mewling softly at the heady taste as you trace your tongue across a prominent vein on the underside.

Your brows furrow when you run your tongue along the length again, pulling back to find a swollen ridge at the base of his cock. His knot. 

“Can I touch it?” you whisper curiously, head tilting to get a closer look.

“Go ahead,” he murmurs, fingers spreading out across your scalp, scratching gently.

It’s strange, you think. A little puffier and thicker than his actual cock, darker in color too. You press your fingers against it gently and it gives just a bit under your prodding. You sneak a glance up at Sylus and he raises his brows, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“It’ll feel good inside of you,” he promises self-assuredly, “swells up when- oh fuck-”

His breath stutters when you mouth at his knot, tongue laving over the sensitive spot as you squirm, kissing his knot. You lick over the ridge again, smiling to yourself when Sylus’ thighs twitch. His hand pushes at your head subtly when you focus on his cock again, a quiet breathy sound escaping him, enough to have you perking up and your pussy clenching. You want him as needy as he had you.

“You said you’d be good,” you coo, leaning forward to brush a kiss to his hip, your head dipping again to nuzzle against his cock.

“I- nghhh-” Sylus stammers, his cheeks flushed a light pink when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to suck lazily. “I- I am being good.”

You hum happily, pressing your head forward, swallowing down more of his cock.

“Fuck-” he breathes out, his hands petting at your hair, pushing down gently to make you take his cock further, until it’s stuffed down your throat and your nose is buried into the snowy hair at the base of his cock. “Feels- ah- feels so good, sweetness.”

You smile when he lets you pull off, lapping at the tip of his cock teasingly, your hand reaching up to squeeze his pec. Sylus swears, his back arching at the action, a soft whine spilling out of him.

“You like this,” you muse, dipping your head to suckle at his balls, relishing in the noises he lets out, watching his thighs tremble. You stare up at him hazily, tongue lolling out for him when he grasps his cock, his hand squeezing at his knot, his knuckles white with tension.

Your fingers pinch at his nipple greedily when he presses his cock back in and you squeal, the sound muffled around the thickness of his cock when he tugs harshly at your own nipple in retaliation. 

“Brat,” he mutters, pushing your head down further, grunting softly when you dig your nails into his thighs and swallow around his cock.

“I thought you were being good,” you whine when he tugs at your hair, dipping his head to kiss you eagerly, his tongue licking into your mouth. You pout when he pulls away, feeling betrayed by the shortness of his submission. 

“Sorry, doll,” Sylus says, petting your head and rewarding you with another kiss; this time softer and sweeter, his lips lingering. 

You let him kiss you in your dazed state, and Sylus takes advantage, crawling over you, his hands kneading at the fat of your thighs. Your bed is already messy, the sheets rumpling as he jostles you a bit, patting your thigh to make you move further up on the bed.

Sylus settles between your thighs, his cock hot and heavy against your stomach as he drops his weight onto you, his hands finding yours before pinning them above your head. You sigh into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into your ass when he rolls his hips, grinding his bare cock against your pussy.

“I like these,” he mumbles when he kisses down your chest and noses into your breasts. An airy noise sounds when he sucks a hardened nipple into his mouth, his teeth catching against the bud before he bites down measuredly. 

You squirm, hips rolling needily when he sucks more of your breast into his mouth, alternating between them when he feels the other being neglected.

“Such pretty tits,” Sylus sighs, pulling back to stare at the stiffened peaks of your breasts, covered in his spit and budding teeth marks that were bound to bruise.

“I thought you were gonna knot me,” you murmur, rolling your hips up, mewling when you feel his cock slide between your folds.

“So desperate,” he muses, letting go of your hands in favor of grasping his cock.

You look down, eyes half-lidded as he grips the base of his cock, right over his knot that somehow seemed a little larger in the moments that had passed. A whine escapes you when he slaps his cock against your pussy, your cheeks flushing when you see the glistening strings of slick clinging to his cock.

“How sweet,” Sylus croons, his grin growing sharper, “even your pussy doesn’t want to let me go.”

You huff out a breath to hide your embarrassment, throwing your arm over your eyes. “Don’t talk like that.”

He laughs, rising up to sit on the haunches of his legs, his hand stroking his cock lazily. “But you enjoy it, doll. Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want now.”

You watch with bated breath as he notches the head of his cock against your pussy, squirming when you realize how much his cock is actually going to stretch you out. The knot at the base seems even more intimidating; you feel a little nervous, thighs trying to clamp shut just when Sylus begins to push in. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, “relax, okay? I’ll take care of you.”

You reach for his hand, trying to calm your rapid heart and Sylus gives it to you, lacing your fingers together before kissing your knuckles.

A soft gasp leaves you when he begins to push in again, and that’s when you feel how girthy his cock truly is. It stretches you, inch by inch and you bite your lip, eyes slipping shut.

“That’s it,” Sylus soothes, squeezing your hand and tilting his head to kiss your shoulder, “take my cock, sweetness.”

An incoherent sound emanates from you when he sinks all the way in, your hands scrabbling at his shoulders when you feel how good he’s stretching you, how full you feel - and that’s without his knot. You stare down, heart fluttering in your chest when you see where you’re connected, his cock buried inside of you.

“A- aren’t you going to put your knot in?” you ask meekly, mouth dropping open when he begins to move his hips, the slow, rolling motions making you see stars.

“When you’re ready for it,” Sylus whispers, his voice hoarse, “pretty pussy’s still too tight for it. Practically trying to milk my cock already, baby.”

You hiccup, tears nearly springing to your eyes when he begins to draw his hips out, thrusting forward more forcefully. Sylus moans loudly and you claw at his back, arms and legs clinging to him tightly when he swirls his hips and grinds them forward, burying his cock in deeper with every thrust.

His knot seems to swelling rapidly, and you peek down with wide eyes, letting out a shaky breath when you see how thick it’s become. It squishes up against you with every thrust Sylus delivers, catching against your clit every now and then. 

“I- ngh- fuck- I don’t think it’s going to fit,” you whimper, trying to push at Sylus’ abdomen when he grips your hips.

He snaps his teeth, irritation showing on his face when you try to squirm away from his knot, his grip tight enough to keep you in place. “Don’t fucking run from it,” he snarls, and you’re reminded of the way he was in that birdcage, feral and unrelenting. 

You gulp when he grips your thighs, pushing them down towards your stomach, practically folding you until your cunt is on display for him. It’s lewd and obscene and so terribly hot, that your pussy clenches down greedily, eager for more of his attention.

“There we go,” he whispers, snapping his hips harder, his balls smacking against your ass, “pretty pussy loves my cock, hm?”

You blink up at him, nodding shyly, the words slipping out of you unbidden. “I love your cock, Sylus.”

Sylus’ hips stutter to a stop when he hears your shy, whispery words, his cheeks flushing to a pretty pink that has your eyes lighting up.

“Y- yeah?” he murmurs, and you laugh when he clears his throat, giddy by the fact that you’ve managed to fluster Sylus of all people. “Whose cock is it then, baby?”

“Mine,” you murmur, your fingers reaching down to scratch at his navel, through the coarse hairs that lie there. “Your cock’s all mine.”

Sylus groans and you yelp when he suddenly spreads you open, gasping when he thumbs apart your folds, his knot beginning to sink inside of you. It’s a tight fit and you cry out, tears pricking at your lash line when he finally manages to bully it in.

You feel so full, you’re almost sure you can feel his cock in your throat. 

“No- shit- don’t fucking clench,” he groans, his head dropping forward to bury his head into the crook of your neck when your pussy flutters around his fat cock and knot, trying to accomodate. 

“Can’t help it,” you wail, fingers pulling at his hair harshly, squeaking when he tugs his knot free and starts to fuck you again. 

Sylus ruts his hips into you, driving forward and pounding his cock into your cunt until you sob, writhing on your bed, the building pleasure entirely overwhelming. The clap of his hips is loud, balls smacking into you with every thrust, his knot creating an embarrassing sound whenever it sinks inside of you, before Sylus pulls his hips back, tugging the knot free.

“Gonna breed you,” he begins to mutter, his teeth nipping at your shoulder and neck, biting with measured care. “I’m going to breed this tight fucking cunt, sweetness. Give you all of my fucking cum.”

“All of it,” you echo breathlessly, “want it- want your knot, Sylus.”

“You’re getting it,” he growls, squeezing your hips tightly before shoving his knot in completely.

You scream, twitching when it swells inside of you completely. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, entirely too large to be tugged free again when Sylus jerks his hips.

“Oh- oh my- fuck-” you squeal, and Sylus smashes his lips over yours in a heated kiss. It’s all teeth and fangs and spit, and you grab blindly at his shoulders, gasping uncontrollably when it continues to swell, growing fatter and fatter until your pussy throbs around it, the knot locking you together.

“Cum,” Sylus rasps against your lips, “cum, doll, cum on my fucking knot. Cum on my fucking knot so I can give you my cum and breed this sweet, little pussy.”

You moan brokenly, thighs twitching when he rubs your clit, the sensations on the sensitive bud trying to make you curl away from him. Sylus kisses you again and you whimper into his mouth, cunt clenching uncontrollably as you cum, head tossed back, and back arched.

He curses, his head dropping forward at the feel of your pussy, and you mewl when he cums straight after, ears perking up at the low growls and breathy groans. His cum is hot and thick, and you’re still too full, filled up with his cum and his cock. The knot doesn’t give way until several moments later, deflating slowly.

Sylus’ cum spills out, hot and slow and you watch with dazed eyes as it leaks out of you, your pussy fluttering around nothing, thanks to the loss of his fat cock. 

“That’s no good,” he murmurs, his fingers spreading through his cum, rubbing it over your folds and clit before trying to push it back into your pussy.

Sylus frowns at you when you slap his hand away, and you give him a half-hearted glare, pussy aching and thighs sore from the way he had fucked and bent you. He hums, slinking down the bed to kiss your thighs and you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, the throbbing in your pussy fading faintly as he massages your sore muscles and kisses your clit every now and then, his actions affectionate.

You let him clean you up, thankful for the glass of water he brings you. Sylus pulls you closer into his chest, kissing your forehead, his hands smoothing up and down your sides.

“So what does it mean?” you ask him quietly, leaning forward to meet his kiss when he tips your chin upwards, “the feather?”

Sylus’ expression sobers for a moment, his lips grazing across your cheek to whisper into your ear.

“That your soulmate is near.”

You pull back, staring up into his eyes suspiciously. When you see the slight twitch of his lips, his usual smirk pulling across his lips, you scoff and swat his chest. He laughs, catching your wrist and bringing your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“What?” he murmurs, “am I really such a bad candidate to be your soulmate?”

“You’re lying,” you grouse, letting him pull you up onto his lap and press his face into the crook of your neck.

“You don’t know that,” Sylus whispers, tilting his head to kiss the pulse in your throat.

You can’t help but think he has such a strange obsession with it. When he emerges from the crook of your neck, you cup his jaw, staring up into his eyes. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, you think, spending every life with him, especially when he’s like this.

“Then promise me,” you say, your voice holding a hint of a challenge. “Promise me that when we’ve passed and our bones are nothing but dust that you’ll find me in the next life.”

Sylus seems slightly taken aback by your request, his eyes widening momentarily before he leans forward, slotting his lips over yours. “Is that a confession of love, sweetness?” He smiles against your lips, nipping your lower lip. “In any case, I promise it,” he whispers, his gaze intense, “in this life or the next, I will find you and have you.”

You purse your lips, heart fluttering at his declaration.

“You’re a fool,” you mumble, pressing yourself more firmly against his chest, head resting on his shoulder.

“And yet you still took my knot.”

“I hate you.”

Sylus pouts mockingly, his lips attacking your cheek with kisses until you have no choice but to let out the laughter you’ve been holding in. His words are a gentle whisper, caressing your skin, his promise tightening the unseen bonds that bind you together. 

“Forever, my sweet soulmate.”

[umbrellajam]

@silverwhittlingknife's OG tags:

#Tim actually has many people who care about him b/c he is a sweet kid with many good qualities!!! #he just doesn't see himself that way #i just want to give him a good pep-talk ''tim people DO care about you i promise'' #weirdly enough Tim really needs to learn to take other people for granted a bit - an odd problem to have BUT HE HAS IT #he just needs to learn to TRUST that other people care about him the way that he cares about them - because they do!!

#i blame jack drake's c+ parenting #and the way he blows hot and cold and abruptly loses interest in tim from time to time #for Tim's 'i am constantly braced for the ppl i care about to lose interest in me w/o warning' Thing #Jack teaches tim to assume that even effusive interest and expressions of love can't be trusted! because next week his dad loses interest! #but being shuffled between boarding schools and having a million temporary friendships probably didn't help

#he starts second-guessing Dick & the Titans ...not out of NOWHERE exactly but still he's got very little reason to be as anxious as he is #he's VERY quick to jump to the conclusion of ''okay you don't actually want me in your life anymore'' #he mentally figures all those relationships are temporary until he changes schools / stops being Robin / quits the Titans / etc.

#interestingly Dick also has a bunch of self-worth issues but his are very different from Tim's #Tim's always surprised that ppl still care about him #whereas dick doesn't doubt that people care about him the way tim does #but he tends to sorta...discount their caring because to HIM what matters is whether he's helping people #so when people don't call him for help he feels like it's a Judgment on Him and on the friendship - and his feelings are really hurt #(Donna when she doesn't tell him about Robbie - Wally when his wife disappears - Bruce when he calls on Azrael instead of Dick - etc.) #plus Dick thinks that if he's screwing up at crimefighting then he's a bad person who doesn't DESERVE to have friends #so then he actively drives them away or avoids them so that he can be miserable & ashamed by himself #they are both idiots and i love this about them

also from @chiyana:

#tim “I have friends” drake immediately followed by tim “wait I have friends??” drake #like BOY

Top 10 moments of Tim being an insecure disaster

(I was reading this lovely post and felt like making it way longer.)

So something I find interesting about Tim Drake, Veteran Boarding School Kid, is that he's pretty good at making superficial friendships...but he's also way too quick to assume all his friendships are shallow and temporary and will disappear if he, like, mildly annoys someone or falls out-of-touch for a bit. Even with friends he's had for a really long time and cares about a lot!

This is sad for Tim, but delightful for me, because I enjoy characters being unhappy, and I especially enjoy characters being resigned that no one cares about them... only to discover that actually people do care. Please enjoy my ten favorite panels of Tim being insecure and/or oblivious. <3

1. Tim assumes that everybody at Gotham Heights will instantly forget about him once he changes schools and that their promises to keep in touch don't mean anything (Robin 74):

"They'll move on without me. I'll become a stranger. We all know that."

2. Tim worries that Bruce won't want him as Robin if he goes back to boarding school (in the same issue):

"Hey... you wouldn't... fire me, would you?"

3. Tim worries that Young Justice doesn't want him back on the team (Young Justice 46)

A few issues earlier, Tim quit the team briefly, upset that his friends didn't trust him (they suspected him - wrongly - of conspiring with Batman to create secret files on them). Here, he wants to rejoin. But when they scowl at him, he hastily backtracks:

Tim: Well...okay...I mean, if that's how you feel, I can respect th--Conner: Oh, don't be a jerk! Of course we want you on board!

4. Tim's "if I quit Robin, Bruce and Dick will never talk to me again" monologue (Robin 120):

"If I quit Robin, Bruce won't be in my life anymore. At all. I'll probably never see him again. Never hear of Batman at all. None of them will be in my life anymore, not even out of their costumes. They won't be able to. Even Dick..."

5. Tim worries that Dick doesn't want him in Blüdhaven or in the Wayne family (Nightwing 110):

When Tim's dad dies, he moves to Blüdhaven, where he knows exactly one person: Dick. Buuuut Dick's avoiding him (because he's in a shame-spiral over Blockbuster's death! not because he's mad at Tim!).

Anyway, Tim naturally jumps to the conclusion that Dick is mad at him for moving to the same city without asking permission first, and also that Dick would be offended if he let Bruce adopt him:

Tim: You're not mad I'm, like, in your city or anything? Dick: NO! No. I'm honored. You have more of a right to be here than I do. Tim: Is it the adoption thing? Dick: The what? Tim: 'Cause I was a little worried about that. That's kinda part of why I said no. I mean, that and the uncle thing. I was just thinking it wasn't really all that long ago since he officially adopted you, which was kind of a big deal, you know, emotionally or whatever, and to me you're like totally his son and I don't wanna step on that or anything.

Tim's worry is tragicomic because earlier in the issue, Dick spent his inner monologue moping about how Tim is so great and Dick loves him so much and therefore Dick has to avoid him because he's ashamed of Tim seeing him like this (Dick Grayson: also in possession of severe self-worth issues!).

6. Tim assumes that his firing is IMMINENT at EVERY MOMENT (Robin 139 and others)

In other surely-this-relationship-is-temporary-no-matter-how-long-we've-known-each-other news, I can't add all of Tim's many "THIS IS THE END!! Bruce gonna fire me from Robin!!!" panels, because it would take too long. Here's another one, though:

7. Tim's blindsided when he disappears for three days and his friend Zo is... shockingly... worried about him (Robin 156-7)

One thing I enjoy about Tim's self-worth issues is that they not only make him anxious and miserable, they also cause conflict! Tim has a tendency to assume "out of sight, out of mind"... so he forgets that his friends, like, worry about him if he disappears. Which means he can be...kind of a bad friend in terms of keeping in touch.

Here's Tim being stunned - and later apologetic - when he discovers that his friend Zo was worried about him when he was apparently kidnapped and then out of touch for days (who could've seen that coming? not Tim!):

8. Tim assumes that Dick is only worried about him because Cassie told him to be (Red Robin 4):

"And you're only here because Cassie called you!"

Tim, I promise, there could be other reasons. xD

Really, most of Red Robin is just "Tim Drake and his Insecurities, the Comic." Speaking of, here's...

9. Tim congratulates himself on having saved everybody that Bruce loved...while falling to his death (Red Robin 12):

"I did it. I saved the people he loved."

10. Tim worries (again) that his stone-faced friends are no longer his friends since he hasn't been on the team in a while (Red Robin 20):

(He falls for it every time!)

In conclusion Tim needs more hugs.

Also, he should possibly try counting to ten before panicking. xD

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

Cards and Casts

Part five of The Rain series

Synopsis: Ace and Deuce's visits to The Prefect in the infirmary after Ramshackle's collapse

TW: Aftermath of Ramshackle collapsing on The Prefect, Ace is out of it, Deuce is (more) all over the place than usual (in a trying to process things kinda way)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 (here), Part 6 (coming soon)

The next person to come and visit you was Ace.

The moment the news had been announced, Ace was already booking it to sign up to see you. At the time, it hadn't yet been announced that the further up on the list you were, the sooner you'd get to see The Prefect; Ace was just desperate to sign his name as soon as he could. It was almost as if he thought doing so would in a way prove that he did care. That it would redeem him for not being there when you needed him. That it would make him feel less guilty.

A knock was heard from the other side of the infirmary door. You had been told that your next visitor would be ace, but Ace never knocked.

You rand the little bell next to your bed to tell whoever it was to come in (you had a bell because you couldn't yet raise your voice much).

An unfamiliar boy walked through the door. His hair was a ruffled mess, his clothes were wrinkled, and there were dark circles under his eyes. It took you a moment to realize it was actually Ace who stood before you. He looked like a mess. He didn't even have his signature red heart painted on his face.

The smile he gave you looked strained, but you didn't comment on it.

You ended up having to beckon the boy closer after he had been standing in the doorway for a good five minutes. He dropped his shoulders and basically hobbled to your bedside. He nearly toppled over as he tried to take a seat, but caught himself at the last moment.

Tick Tick Tick Tick

"I. . .I brought cards."

And so, that's how you ended up playing a few games of Rummy with him. But he was still off. He was playing like an absolute novice. He was letting you win. He NEVER lets you win.

Eventually, you had had enough, and you set down your cards with a scuffed huff. He didn't even notice!

You carefully reached up a hand and pushed his cards down onto the bed and he just let them tumble.

"Ace." Your voice was gruff, but still somehow airy.

"Oh, uh, yeah?" Ace seemed to snap out of a trance. . .well, more like slowly drift out of.

You tried to meet his eyes, but he refused to look directly at you. You thought about asking if he was okay, but the answer to that question was pretty obvious. You didn't ask him what was wrong for the same reason. Instead, you took a deep breath and held it as you painfully shifted over in the bed. You did your best not to make a noise as not to worry the already clearly upset boy.

Ignoring your screaming body, you mustered your best smile (your bandages kept it from reaching your eyes though) and gently patted the space next to you on the bed.

Ace gave you a hesitant look, but you just patted the space again to tell him it was okay. He wouldn't hurt you simply by sitting next to you.

When he finally did sit next to you, you let your head rest against his shoulder. Neither of you spoke

Tick Tick Tick Tick

When the silence was finally broken it was with a single mumbled word: "sorry."

"Hm?" you coughed.

". . .I-I'm sorry." His voice wasn't much louder, but you could hear it this time.

You slowly picked your head up and looked at him incredulously "What for?"

"I wasn't there."

"You knew Ramshackle would collapse?"

"No, I-"

"If you were there, you would have gotten hurt too."

"No! I could have helped. . .I could have-"

"No. No, you couldn't."

He went silent and his face fell before tightening slightly in the way it does only when someone is on the verge of tears.

"Nobody could have stopped it after it started. Nobody could have made it out in time either." Your voice reduced to a croak, but you continued. "You didn't know the dorm would collapse. It's not your fault-"

"Still!" His voice raised and a waver in his tone became apparent "If I was there, I-"

"Would have gotten hurt too. Then I would be too worried about you to do any healing myself." You could tell your voice wouldn't hold out much longer, so you said one more thing: "It's not your fault. You're doing all you can now by being here and being safe. Thank you."

Tears dripped steadily from the boy's face, but he didn't make a sound.

You lightly took his hand in yours, and you sat like that for hours. Together and safe.

Deuce walked in not long after Ace left.

He walked into the room silently and took a seat next to your bed.

"How are you doing?"

You were about to grab the notebook and pencil next to your bed to write a response as your voice was shot, but she spoke up again before you got the chance.

"Wait, no! That was a dumb question!"

Before he could start further rambling, you shook your head and began to write: 'I'm doing much better. I appreciate you asking.'

Deuce sighed and began fiddling with his hands. "Does. . .does it still hurt?"

You took a moment to think about whether or not you should answer his question truthfully, but ultimately decided not to lie. 'It still hurts, but not as much."

Deuce frowned, but nodded.

'I bet I'll get some cool scars! Like battle scars. We'll match!' You scribbled out sloppily as you weren't exactly able to properly hold a pen with your hands looking like a mummy's. It was meant as an attempt to cheer him up, but he only frowned further.

"You shouldn't have scars. You're a good person."

It was you're turn to frown. 'You're a bad one?'

Before Deuce could reply, you tapped the space next to you: telling him to sit.

Similarly to Ace, he hesitated, but you eventually got him to sit next to you on the bed.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off again. This time you did so by dragging his arm closest to you onto your lap and grabbing a marker off of the nightstand. You uncapped the marker and rolled up his sleeve.

Deuce was too stunned and confused to say a word as he watched you scribble little pictures on his arm. The pictures were cartoony renditions of various times he'd done kind things for you. When you were done he finally snapped out of his daze.

"Wait! I should be the one cheering you up! First I let you get hurt, and now I can't even comfort you properly! I-I can't do anything right!" Deuce's head falls into his hands and you watch as tears fall onto the sheets.

A marker slips into Deuce's hand and he looks over at you with confused, tear-filled eyes.

You point to the cast on your leg. A blank slate. 'A drawing from you on my cast would make me happy'

"But. . .I can't draw-"

You cut him off by basically shoving the notebook in his face. 'Doesn't matter. Anything you draw will remind me of you, and thinking of my friends will make me happy.'

He ends up doodling a flower and an endearingly poor depiction of him, Ace, Grim, and you together and signing his name.

For the rest of his visit, you take turns doodling different things in your notebook and adding funny little details to each other's drawings.

When Deuce finally leaves, you let out a breath you had been holding. Your face contorts in pain and a soft whimper leaves your throat.

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[rafesangelita]

♡ “i think i’m a little bit, little bit, a little bit in love with you.”— your ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement with rafe comes to an ultimate end when he suddenly says the ‘L’ word while he’s inside of you..

warnings: fwb!rafe, f2l, unprotected sex, praise, slight angst, confessions, mutual pining, fluff, soft aftercare

a/n: now presenting… ‘BE MINE?’ 🤍 me and ‘little bit’ by lykke li will always be locked in!!

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

ignorance truly was bliss.

here you were, ignoring the way your heart fluttered and ached at the sight of the man who was currently fucking you into oblivion. of course, rafe wasn’t just any man— no, he was your best friend. while you two were terrified of messing up your friendship with a label other than ‘just friends’, it didn’t stop neither of you from falling for each other, both of you resorting to sex with a bullshit ‘no strings attached’ rule that you two obviously didn’t follow. if spending your nights tangled up in each other’s sheets was the only way to be together non-platonically, then so be it.

rafe had his thumb inbetween your lips, your hand wrapped tightly around his wrist as he slammed into you at an unforgiving pace. you don’t know how long you two have been going at it, or how many orgasms you’ve had, but the only way you could describe how you felt right now was stupid. unable to form a single thought, you sucked on rafe’s digit while he lost himself, his head rolling to the side as your walls sucked him in. “h-holy shit!” his hips stuttered, a whimper leaving your lips when you felt the hot spurts of rafe’s cum paint your insides.

rafe felt the shocks of his orgasm ripple through his body, his body collapsing on top of your own as he writhed in pure unadulterated pleasure. “i.. shit— i fucking love you.” he panted, cradling your head before leaving sloppy kisses against the sensitive flesh of your neck. you sucked in a breath, his words hitting you right where it hurt. blinking rapidly, you heard your heart beating in your ears as your mind began racing a million miles per minute.

did he really mean that?

was he just talking about the sex?

what if he just said it on accident?

you couldn’t focus on anything else. it wasn’t until rafe rolled over, his lips trailing across your chest before he saw the conflicted look on your face. “what’s wrong? are you okay?” you wanted to scoff but settled for a slight shake of your head instead. “you just said you loved me.” rafe’s chest was rising and falling as he swallowed thickly, both of you looking at each other with a knowing look in your eyes.

“i know.”

rafe watched as you sat up, crossing your arms over your chest. “you can’t just say that casually, rafe..” you muttered, suddenly feeling exposed despite being naked in front of him a countless amount of times. rafe moved closer, his hand trailing underneath the plush comforter. rubbing circles into the soft flesh of your thigh, rafe sighed before flashing you a soft smile. “there’s nothing casual about what i said,” he started, “it might’ve came out at a questionable time but i meant it.” rafe met your gaze under the dim lighting of his room, the intensity in his stare making goosebumps spread across your skin.

you stayed silent, pondering his words and the weight they carried. of course you felt the same, there was no doubt about that, but to say that you weren’t scared of what this meant would be a lie. you two were entering a new kind of territory. this wasn’t just ‘friendly’ sleepovers anymore, it was more complicated than that. you had sworn off any man that wasn’t rafe, your best friend consuming every fiber of your being. little did you know, rafe had been exclusive with you since he realized he couldn’t stand to not be near you. he needed to see you, talk to you, touch you everyday.

you had undoubtedly made a home for yourself in his brain and his heart, and he had no intentions of ever kicking you out. “do you really?” you couldn’t help but ask, your fingertips finding his under the covers. rafe studied your face, engraving your features into his mind as he thought about what to say next. “i’m gonna tell you something..” he pulled you close, caging you between his arms as he traced the soft curve of your lips, “i can’t pinpoint exactly when i started feeling this way, apart of me thinks i always have, you just made it easier for me to realize it.” his breath fanned your cheek as he spoke.

“everyone on this island has their own idea of me, but you? you know me for who i really am. i’ve never had to put on a show, i’ve never had to fear judgement from you. you just get me, you know?” you felt so warm and fuzzy inside, you couldn’t help but bury your face in his chest. “i love you too, rafe.” he felt like he could breathe when that sentence finally sounded from your mouth, his shoulders relaxing as he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “yeah?” he pulled away to cup your face as you nodded. “yeah, i just— i didn’t know how to go about something like this.”

rafe hummed in agreement, both of you looking at each other momentarily before leaning in for a kiss. once your lips touched, you felt relief wash over you; months of pent up tension leaving your body. rafe couldn’t believe that everything was out in the open now. “well, our anniversary date is impossible to forget since it’s on valentine’s day.” your heart fluttered in your chest at the proposition. “anniversary date?” you repeated. “yeah.. you didn’t think we’d be single after this, did you?” you giggled against his lips, welcoming him between your thighs again.

“no, i suppose not.”

[sooniebby]

an idea; a (bottom) male reader who’s apart of an indie jpop boy group. The members are just you, a childhood friend, and three other people you met through college/random events. Your group was lucky one of the members comes from a rich family that doesn’t mind spending some money to help you guys out—waiting until a company finds interest and asks to manage you.

The first month or so is rough so you all find part time jobs in the mean time. But regular jobs just don’t interest you so it takes you awhile to even apply for any… mostly getting fired after the first week or so because you end up showing late all the time.

You’re left wondering what to do when you come across a website of camboys and camgirls. Some of them show full nudity while others stay dressed for the most part.

It intrigues you enough but you don’t do it without running it through your members. They’re mostly shocked you even want to do that… but other than that, they just tell you to not speak and wear a mask.

Easy peasy. You chose a simple and almost silly name, “Shy Usagi” since your mask resembled a rabbit.

The first stream is awkward, you had to figure out a way to talk. Surprisingly, a few of the people that dropped in were intrigued by your refusal to talk. You had expected them to immediately want you naked but it seemed you attracted people that liked the teasing aspect of camboys.

Though you were 99% sure it was only men watching you. The first few weeks, you only wore skimpy clothing and did anything they requested. The most sexual thing you did was suck a dildo.

Occasionally you’d masturbate on live and that would always garner more attention. But there was always one person who would tip you no matter the stream.

“Hitachikoi”

You were sure he was probably an old man but you didn’t care, money was money. He knew how to flirt so you never felt weirded out with his attention.

Things were going reasonably well until after your group’s performance at a little festival. You had spilt away for a second to look around when you bumped into someone. He had his face covered with a mask and baseball cap.

You were going to apologize and go about your way when you caught that he was holding a poster of your group. He didn’t say anything as he simply held up a marker.

It took a second before you finally realized what he wanted. “Oh! Sure.” You were a bit excited, having never really signed anything before. Your signature was a bit messy but still legible.

“Here you go, thanks for coming to see us!”

“I only came to see you.”

“Hm?” You leaned in closer, wondering if you had heard him right. Only you?

The man let out a laugh as he reached up and pulled down his mask, leaning down so you could get a clear look at his face. “Mhm. Only you… (Name)… or ah,”

His hand reached up and cupped your face, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip. It was only when he pulled off his cap that you got a good look at his face.

He… he wasn’t some random guy. He was a famous actor… a famous actor knew about you?

“Shy Usagi? It’s nice to see your entire face… that mask never hid your lips.”

You could stare as he pushed his thumb into your mouth. The only thing you were thinking of was if he was about to ruin your career before it even took off? But why would he care? Why was he even—

“Don’t worry your pretty little head. Someone like you isn’t made to think so hard,” he said, a slight frown on his lips. “I just, well I got tired of watching behind a screen. I wanted to touch you…”

His other hand moved to rest on your hip, pulling you closer as he pressed his lips against your ear.

“To be inside of you instead of that dildo… I mean, I’m paying you so much money, it’s only fair I get to have you, right? Mhm? I can have you, yea? I’ve thought of fucking your mouth for days now.”

“(Name)! Where are you?”

He pulled away, rolling his eyes. You only watched as he slipped back on his mask and cap, pulling your shirt back down. “You’ll stream tonight.” He said, as if he was giving you an order, not asking.

“I’ll see you tonight, baby. Wear something red tonight… that’s my favorite color.”

With that he left you standing there, mouth agape just as one of your members walked over to you.

You… were so fucking screwed.

In more ways than one.

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @secretivemessenger @chill-guy-but-cooler @star-3214 @tehyunnie @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @tomoeroi @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @euthymiko @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @love-kha1 @anchoredphoenix @yuzuukix @bensontrechic

I already made a face claim lol.



[carnalcrows]

TEACHER'S PET - SANGWOO

pairing: professor! sangwoo x student! bottom male reader

synopsis: A struggling college athlete strikes a risky deal with his professor, unaware of the secrets lurking beneath the surface.

content warnings: 18+, age gap (reader is 21 and sang-woo is in his 40's), teacher x student, cheating, blood, unprotected sex, breeding, creampie, reader is a himbo and is slightly muscular.

word count: 2.5k

The classroom was quiet, save for the rhythmic tapping of Professor Cho Sangwoo’s fingers against his desk. You were only half-paying attention, your gaze drifting to the window as he continued his lecture on financial markets—whatever that meant. Numbers weren’t exactly your thing, and honestly, you were just waiting for class to be over so you could hit the gym.

“Since you all love talking so much, let’s see if you actually understand today’s lesson,” Sangwoo announced, his voice smooth yet carrying an edge of boredom. He scanned the room, eyes narrowing slightly before landing on you. “You.”

Your head snapped up. “Huh?”

A few chuckles echoed in the lecture hall, but Sangwoo ignored them. He leaned casually against his desk, adjusting his tie. “I asked what the three main types of financial markets are.”

You blinked, your brain scrambling for anything resembling an answer. “Uh… stocks?”

Sangwoo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s one.”

“Um… crypto?”

Someone in the back actually snorted. You gave them a glare before looking back at Sangwoo, who only smiled, but not in a nice way. “Stay after class,” he said simply before moving on to another student.

You slumped in your seat. Great.

When the lecture finally ended, your classmates trickled out in pairs and groups, leaving you alone with your professor. You adjusted the strap of your sports bag and walked up to his desk, scratching the back of your head.

“Sir?” you said hesitantly. “Uh, about earlier—”

“You’re failing my class.”

That was the first thing he said, cutting straight to the point. His voice was calm, but there was something in his gaze that made you shift uncomfortably.

“Yeah, I figured,” you admitted with a nervous chuckle. “Numbers aren’t really my thing.”

Sangwoo just stared at you, his lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You do realize that if you fail my class, your scholarship could be revoked, correct?”

You blinked. That… wasn’t good. You needed that scholarship. It was the only reason you were here in the first place.

“But—”

“I could help you,” Sangwoo interrupted smoothly, stepping closer. “Private tutoring, after hours. One-on-one.”

“Oh, sweet! That’d be great,” you said, completely missing the shift in the air. “Man, I knew you weren’t as scary as people say.”

Sangwoo’s eyes gleamed. “Right,” he said. “Not scary at all.”

You waited in the empty lecture hall, tapping your fingers against your desk. Most of the students had already gone home, the hallways eerily quiet as the late afternoon sun cast golden streaks through the high windows. You shifted in your seat, rolling your shoulders. This felt… weird. One-on-one tutoring? You barely studied in regular classes—what were the odds this would actually help?

The door creaked open.

You turned, watching as Sangwoo stepped inside. He wasn’t wearing his usual suit jacket, just his dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. He carried his leather briefcase in one hand, and in the other, a slim stack of papers.

“You actually showed up,” he mused, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

“You told me to.” You leaned back, grinning lazily. “Not really one to disobey orders, sir.”

He set his briefcase down, eyeing you for a beat too long before moving to the desk at the front of the class. “We’ll see about that,” he muttered. Then, louder: “Let’s start.”

For the next twenty minutes, he actually taught. Well, sort of. He wrote on the board, explained concepts you didn’t understand, and made you do problems from his worksheet. Your brain, slow as it sometimes was, genuinely tried to keep up. You weren’t failing because you didn’t care—you just weren’t good at this stuff.

At some point, Sangwoo moved behind you, leaning over to check your work. The weight of his presence sent a strange shiver down your spine. His voice was low, smooth, almost teasing as he pointed out your mistakes.

“Not quite,” he murmured. “Try again.”

You exhaled sharply. “God, I suck at this.”

“You suck at a lot of things,” he said, tone unreadable. “But you’re good at listening.”

Your brow furrowed at his choice of words. Before you could question it, he reached over, guiding your hand as you wrote out an equation. His fingers were steady, firm over yours. Too close.

You swallowed. The air in the room changed, thickened with something unsaid. You turned your head slightly, only to find that Sangwoo was already looking at you. His dark eyes lingered, searching, waiting.

The moment stretched.

Then, he moved.

His hand slid from yours, trailing up your wrist, your forearm. You should’ve said something, maybe pulled away, but the way he looked at you—the quiet intensity in his eyes—made your brain short-circuit.

His fingers brushed your jaw. Your breath hitched.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t gentle. It was hungry, practiced, like he had been waiting for this—like he already knew you wouldn’t resist.

Your back hit the desk, Sangwoo pressing forward, one hand bracing against the wood while the other curled around the nape of your neck. His lips moved against yours with a kind of certainty that made your stomach tighten, that made your fingers fist into the fabric of his shirt.

A quiet, broken sound left your throat as his teeth scraped against your bottom lip, as his hands roamed lower, as his body slotted perfectly against yours.

His hands went to the curve of your ass– gripping on the supple flesh as he pulled you closer into him. They trailed to the front, tugging your sweatpants off with a firm tug– making you gasp in surprise.

You looked at him with wide eyes, which only seemed to turn him on even more. He pressed his lips back onto yours before sliding one hand down your boxers, pulling your hard cock out of its confinements– the cool air making you shudder.

He turned you around so that your stomach was on the desk, and lifted your ass up– groaning at the sight of your hole puckering around nothing. He pulled out a packet of lube from his front pocket, did he come prepared for this?, before he ripped it open and spilled its contents onto your hole.

Before you could say anything, he slid the head of his cock in– eyes clenching shut at how you hole pulled him in. You gripped at the desk– having never been stretched out like this before.

“God– so tight f’me aren’t you love, “ he groans in your ear before sliding all the way in– making your back arch. “Only for you sir–” you manage to say before he pulls out and slams back in, making you scream.

He fucked into you at a relentless pace, the uncomfortable positon of your pelvis getting bruised by the edge of the table did nothing to you know. He was making you see stars.

He held you by the waist as you clenched around him– almost making it unable for him to move. You were practically milking the older man dry.

“Getting fucked by your professor for a few extra marks– what a filthy little slut you are, hm?”he mocked, getting riled up at the way you merely moaned, not being able to make sense of what he was saying. Your head was filled with the thought of his cock pistoning in you. 

It wasn’t like your head had much in it anyway.

Soon, he felt himself on the verge of a release, and came in you without warning– painting your insides a pearly white.

You came untouched, practically screaming as your cock spurted out ropes of cum onto the desk. He stayed nestled in you for a while, before slowly pulling out, his cum leaking out of your hole.

He felt himself getting hard again.

It was going to be a long session.

The next time you tried to do the homework he assigned, you realized you had learned absolutely nothing in that tutoring session.

Not about commerce, at least.

Giving up on that, you were sitting outside on the campus lawn with a few of your teammates, lazily picking at your food while the others chatted around you. It was the usual mix of locker-room banter and weekend plans, but you weren’t really paying attention. Your focus had shifted to the faculty building in the distance, where a familiar figure stood near the entrance.

Sangwoo.

Your professor looked different outside of the classroom. Less stiff, more relaxed. And, most importantly, not alone. A woman stood next to him, pretty and well-dressed, holding a little girl in her arms. Sangwoo’s hand rested on the small of her back as they talked, his head tilted slightly as he smiled at something she said. The woman laughed, leaning into him with a kind of familiarity that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

Your appetite vanished instantly. Your fingers tightened around your fork, and you barely noticed your friend nudging you.

"Yo, you good?"

"Yeah," you mumbled, already standing. "Gotta go. Be right back."

You didn’t wait for a response. Your feet moved on instinct, carrying you toward the nearest building. The second you were inside, you made a beeline for the restroom, locking yourself in an empty stall before bracing your hands against the walls, trying to steady your breathing.

Sangwoo had a wife. And a kid. A whole family.

The realization sat heavy in your gut, a sharp, sickening weight pressing against your ribs. How had you not known? Shouldn’t someone have mentioned it? Shouldn’t he have mentioned it? And why the hell did it feel like you’d been punched in the stomach?

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to swallow the rising bile in your throat. The image of him—smiling, touching her, looking like a man who had never done a single wrong thing in his life—burned behind your eyelids.

You had been in his office just last night. Had sat at his desk, let him touch you, let him pull you in like you were something he wanted. And the whole time—

The whole time, he had this? A wife? A daughter?

You turned abruptly, punching the stall door hard enough that the impact sent a dull ache up your wrist. Then, without looking at yourself in the mirror, you forced yourself back outside.

You weren’t going to think about this now. You just needed to get through the rest of the day.

Your legs still felt unsteady as you walked back across the campus lawn, but then—

You slowed down. Two professors were chatting near one of the shaded benches. You wouldn’t have normally paid them any mind, but your name caught your attention.

“—been doing surprisingly well in my class,” one of them said. “I thought he’d barely scrape by, but it looks like he’s putting in real effort.”

“Not surprising,” the other replied. “Athletic scholarships come with pressure. He needs to keep his grades up if he wants to stay on the team.”

“True, but honestly, he’d have to bomb every class for that to even be a concern. You know how it is—sports scholarships are basically untouchable. No single professor can take those away, even if they wanted to.”

A beat of silence passed. Then the first one chuckled. “Good thing, too. Can you imagine the scandal?”

You nearly tripped over your own feet.

Wait.

Your scholarship was secure? No single professor could take it away?

Then… What the hell had Sangwoo been threatening you with?

Your stomach twisted again, but this time, it wasn’t nausea. It was anger. Cold, creeping, slow-burning rage.

He had lied to you. Manipulated you. Used you.

And you had fallen for it, like an absolute idiot.

You sat through class that day feeling like you were going to be sick. Every word out of Sangwoo’s mouth blurred together into meaningless noise, his voice grating against your ears. When he announced the usual after-hours “coaching session,” you barely registered it. The other students filed out, and you stayed seated, arms crossed tightly over your chest, muscles coiled with anger you hadn’t fully processed yet.

Sangwoo closed the door, the sound echoing through the empty room. He turned, gaze sharp as ever, and for the first time, you hated the way he looked at you—like he had already figured out exactly what you were about to say.

“Something wrong?”

You stood up so fast your chair scraped against the floor. “You’re married.”

Sangwoo’s expression didn’t even flicker. “And?”

You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “And? And?! You’ve been—You lied to me. About everything.”

“Careful,” Sangwoo murmured, stepping closer. “You’re getting all worked up.”

“Yeah, because I just found out the guy I’ve been—” You cut yourself off, pressing your fingers to your temple as if that would stop the storm in your head. “Not only are you a cheating bastard, but you lied about my scholarship.”

Silence.

A beat passed. Then another.

You scoffed, the sound bitter, disbelieving. “Yeah. I figured it out. You don’t have the power to take my scholarship away, do you?”

Sangwoo sighed, tilting his head like you were a particularly slow student who had finally caught up. “It got you to comply, didn’t it?”

Something inside you cracked open.

Your fists clenched at your sides. “You used me.”

He took another step forward, his presence suffocating, the air thick between you. “And yet, you’re still here.”

He was right there, close enough that you could see the way his lips curved, the glint in his eye that told you he still thought he had the upper hand. And maybe he did—because the moment he grabbed your face and kissed you, you let him.

It was hard, possessive, like he was staking his claim all over again. Your body reacted before your brain did, mouth opening under his, heat flaring up your spine. His hands dragged over your jaw, fingers pressing just hard enough to make your pulse stutter.

But then—

No. No, not this time.

Your eyes snapped open. The haze shattered.

Without thinking, your hand darted toward the desk beside you, fingers curling around the sharp metal of a compass. You gripped it so tightly your knuckles ached.

Sangwoo didn’t even notice until it was too late.

The compass plunged into the side of his neck, and for the first time since you’d met him, he was the one caught off guard.

He staggered back, hand flying to his throat. Blood—so much blood—spilled between his fingers, staining his crisp white dress shirt. His mouth opened, a garbled, wet sound escaping as he stared at you in pure disbelief.

You exhaled, heart pounding as you looked down at him. “Guess I am failing this class.”

The room smelled like iron. Sangwoo collapsed to the floor, the blood pooling around him in a slow, creeping tide.

You stood there, breath shaky but eyes steady.

And then, finally, you turned and walked away.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[trashytracktales]

For VDay requests: Lando takes her to a nice dinner and she gets mad at him idk maybe he does something without realizing. And then they come back home and shes still pissed but he looks so good after he changes in his comfy clothes so they end up fucking on the couch or something but that's when she tells him why was she mad at him ❤🥀

Happy Valentine's Day guys xx

Torn on Valentine | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you for this request, I actually had so much fun with it. Enjoy your reading and happy Valentine’s, my lovelies!!

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🩷summary ──── Lando notices immediately that his girlfriend is angry with him. However, he has no idea why. But whatever the reason might be, he is determined to remind her exactly why she can't stay mad for long. It's Valentine’s Day, after all.

🩷pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

🩷rating ──── explicit

🩷category ──── F/M

🩷warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, descriptive language, swearing, unresolved tension, teasing, jealous!reader, mild dominance, begging, unprotected sex, slight angst-to-smut.

🩷word count ──── 4.4k (4.444 to be exact hehe)

🩷date ──── Feb. 14, 2025

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

VALENTINE’S DAY IS ruined.

Lando had gone all out to make sure that won’t happen, starting the morning by waking her up with muffins in bed, the scent of vanilla still lingering in the sheets as he pressed lazy little kisses to her neck.

They spent the day walking around the city, and shopping, wandering through little boutiques where he insisted on buying her anything and everything she had laid her eyes on.

And then, la pièce de résistance: a fancy dinner at an exclusive restaurant, the kind of place with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. A soft melody played from a piano in the corner, setting the perfect atmosphere. The food was great, the wine was good, and every detail screamed romance, from the flickering candle between them to the way Lando’s thumb traced tiny heart shapes on her hand as they talked, his eyes never leaving hers.

All in all, it had been perfect. Until he ruined it.

The moment was burned into her mind, replaying it over and over again, like a broken record. The waiter, a girl who had been a little too friendly with him all night, had leaned in when she refilled his wine at some point, brushing his shoulder with a touch that lingered for too long. And Lando, oblivious as ever, had winked at her.

Winked.

She knew her boyfriend. Knew he was clueless about these things, that his flirty nature wasn’t always intentional. But that didn’t make it sting any less. Because the waiter had noticed. She smirked at him, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and acted like his girlfriend wasn’t literally sitting on the other side of the table.

After that, she had gone silent.

The entire ride home, she stared out the window, with her arms crossed and lips pursed, and her knees facing the opposite way from him. Lando figured something was wrong ever since; he glanced at her between shifts, brows furrowing, but he didn’t say anything, probably thinking she was just tired.

Then they got home, and she had barely looked at him as she changed into something more comfortable, still replaying the scene in her head.

Had he done it on purpose? Probably not. But did it matter?

That’s… debatable. It mattered to her.

Deprived by every emotion except irritation, she followed Lando setting up his last surprise of the day — a cozy movie marathon on the couch, complete with fuzzy blankets, sweets and drinks, and a bunch of her favorite Valentine’s-themed movies ready to run.

Now, their apartment is quiet except for the hum of the TV that neither of them is really watching. The tension between them is thick, lingering in the air like a storm that hasn’t broken. Yet.

She breathes heavily, sitting curled up on the opposite side of the couch, legs tucked beneath her, and arms crossed over her chest. Lando, on the other side, is content to let her be.

Until he isn’t.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or are we playing the guessing game again?” he finally asks, voice edged with concern. He knows that she needs time to process whatever’s bothering her at the moment, but his patience has limits, too.

She doesn’t look at him, just shrugs as she lies, “Nothing’s wrong.”

Lando puffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Right. That’s why you’ve been side-eyeing me like I insulted your entire family ever since we got back. It’s annoying, you know? If you have something to say…” his voice trails off, but he feels a wave of anger building inside, so he decides to let go before making it worse.

Her jaw tightens.

She doesn’t want to give in, mostly because she knows that the reason why she’s mad is, well, kind of absurd. But at the same time, she’s frustrated in a way that isn’t just about her boyfriend winking at other girls. The weight of the week has been pressing down on her shoulders, and she needs something — him — but she’s too stubborn to say it. Especially now. Still, her eyes keep flickering down, lingering on the way his sweatpants hang low on his hips, the lazy way he’s sprawled out, legs spread wide.

He catches her looking, fighting a smile as he stretches his arms over the back of the couch. “You wanna sit on it?”

Her head snaps toward him, face heating instantly at his question. “What?”

Lando shrugs, “You keep looking,” he tilts his head, feigning innocence. “Figured I’d save you the trouble of pretending you don’t want to.”

She scoffs, but can’t deny it. She does want to. Desperately. But she’s mad at him. So, she says nothing. Just presses her lips together, turning her attention back to the screen like she isn’t thinking about climbing onto his lap and letting him pull her apart, little by little.

On the TV, the main characters are making out, sending her mind spinning relentlessly, fueling her sudden desire. Apparently, that’s enough for her to decide that she has to put an end to it, finally taking Lando’s advice and speak her mind. But he’s faster. His hands are reaching out for her, almost like they appeared out of nowhere, gripping her waist, effortlessly pulling her onto his lap.

A surprised gasp leaves her lips, but she doesn’t fight him, and doesn’t push him away. If anything, she melts just a little, legs instinctively settling on either side of his hips.

He looks up at her, fingers squeezing at her waist. “That’s better, hm?”

She glares, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I didn’t say you could touch me.”

Lando raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You didn’t say I couldn’t either,” he counters, sliding his hands down to grip her thighs, thumbs brushing tiny, teasing circles on her skin. “And you’re not exactly running away.”

She hates how smug he is. Hates how easily he sees through her act. Hates how good he looks right now.

But then his hands slide further up, fingertips ghosting over the curve of her ass, pressing her down against him just enough for her to feel him through the fabric of his sweats. And the feeling is… intense to say the least, since she’s only wearing an oversized t-shirt and her pajama shorts.

Lando watches her closely, aware of the effect he has on her. “Gonna tell me why you’re mad, or do I have to make you forget?”

She shouldn’t give him the satisfaction. But when he shifts beneath her, dragging her forward so deliciously slow, her resolve crumbles.

Her hands grip his shoulders, nails pressing in. “Shut up.”

“And?”

She closes her eyes, exasperated by his attitude, “Shut up and do something.”

Lando grins at her bluntness, fingers tightening on her hips as he rolls her against him again. “Ask nicely.”

She huffs annoyed, but so needy it aches. “Lando,” she warns in a low voice.

Lando shakes his head. “No, baby. You know how this works,” he reminds her, lips brushing against her neck as his hands keep guide her movements. “Use your words.”

She breathes lightly, head tipping back as the friction sends heat pooling low in her belly. “Please?”

“See, that’s a good start,” he chuckles, nipping at her jaw and dragging his tongue over the sting, “But I know you can do better.”

Her pride wars with her desperation, but it’s a losing battle. She needs more than that, and she knows he won’t give it to her until she breaks.

Next time she speaks, her voice is a whisper, breathy yet sweet, “I need you, please.”

He smirks as he watches her through his eyelashes, happy with the state he managed to put her in so easily. “There goes my girl.”

Lando can see the shift in her the second he finishes his sentence. It’s in the way frustration morphs into impatience, and how her breath hitches every time he grinds her against him but doesn’t give her what she really wants.

“I know you’re enjoying this, but there’s no reason for you to take your sweet ass time, you know that,” she mutters, her voice edged with irritation.

Lando shrugs. “And you know I like watching you squirm.”

She rolls her eyes, but her body betrays her — again and again. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie, while her thighs tense around his waist. With a sharp exhale, she moves on her own now, hands sliding down between them, tugging at the waistband of his sweats. Lando follows her movements, amused, but doesn’t stop her as she pulls them down just enough to free him.

Her breath catches at the sight: he’s already hard, the head flushed deep red, leaking just slightly.

She glances back at him, brows raised, but Lando shrugs again, as if the reason is obvious. “You on my lap, begging? Kinda hard not to get… you know, hard.”

Her stomach clenches at his nonchalance, the way he acts like it’s inevitable. Like, of course he’d be this ready for her. Duh.

Lando exhales excited as she wraps her fingers around him, stroking just enough to make his hips twitch beneath her. His breath gets slightly unsteady after that, but his control remains.

“Getting bold now?” he asks, eyes locked on her as he pushes her shirt up just a little, tracing his fingers along the warm skin of her waist.

The girl doesn’t answer, just bites her lip as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of her shorts, dragging them down and letting them catch on the curve of her thighs before she kicks them away. That’s when the teasing glint in Lando’s eyes fades, replaced with something darker. He swallows hard, hands settling firm on her hips as he drinks her in.

“So soft,” he mumbles under his breath, mostly to himself.

She feels exposed in a way that has nothing to do with being half-naked. It’s like he’s seeing everything, because he knows her so deeply. Like he’s about to ruin her in the best way possible.

And she’s going to let him.

Lando wraps his hand around hers and, together, they pump his cock slowly, his gaze always on her, watching the way her body responds to the sight of it. Then he runs his thumb over the tip, spreading the bead of wetness there while he moves purposely, dragging the length of himself through her folds, groaning at how slick and warm she is.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to hers for a second, while she needs to hold on to him with both hands now. “You’re dripping.”

She whimpers as he does it again, sliding against her, teasing her clit with the thick head before pulling back, drawing out her frustration.

“Lando, don’t…” she whines, shifting against his chest, trying to get more of him.

Lando laughs, low and raspy, but his grip on her isn’t loosening one bit. “Patience, baby.”

“I need—”

“Yeah?” he cuts her off, pressing the head of his cock against her entrance this time, barely pushing in before pulling back out. “What? This what you need?”

Her stomach flips at the feeling, so raw, unable to spit out any words. Instead, she only manages to nod.

To show her that he appreciates her honesty, Lando guides her hips, dragging her along his length, pressing his swollen tip against her clit once more and holding her there. Without moving. She gasps, her whole body shuddering as the pressure sends sparks through her nerves.

Lando groans, feeling how she pulses against him, how her body aches for more. “Well, shit. That’s pretty,” he admits, watching her fall apart in his hands.

She lets a little cry out in protest, trying to push down, but he keeps her there, right on the edge of everything, everything.

“You gonna beg for it again?” he asks in a teasing voice.

She wants to fight him on it, but she can’t. Not when she’s this close to him, when every second of waiting feels like pure, unfiltered torture.

She shakes her head, her little cry turning into a throaty moan.

Lando gets ecstatic at the sound and the way her body shivers — so desperate, so utterly wrecked for him before he’s even inside her. For a split second, he considers giving in completely. But then he remembers she’s mad at him. Or at least, she was. And if she thinks she can get away with that attitude without consequence, she needs to understand that she’s sorely mistaken.

Instead of giving her what she wants, Lando kisses her. Hard. His lips crash into hers, swallowing the whimper of frustration that slips from her throat. He starts guiding her against him, harder now, making her ride the thick length of his cock without ever letting her sink onto it, the friction sweet but never enough. She tries to pull back, gasping against his mouth, but he doesn’t let her. One hand tangles in her hair, holding her close, keeping her exactly where he wants her.

Until her patience snaps and, with a sharp gasp, she bites his lip, just hard enough to make him hiss, her nails digging into his scalp as she pulls at his curls. Lando moans, a low, needy sound that strikes her like lightning. The sting, the fight, the way she’s clawing for a type of control she won’t get — not yet — motivates him to keep teasing her.

Annoyed, she lets her hand slip between them, fingers wrapping around his cock, slick and throbbing, before she finally sinks down onto him. Because, sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself is to take matters into your own hands.

At that, both of them go silent.

Her body tightens around him instantly, the fullness of him stealing her breath, making her walls flutter as she adjusts to his length.

Lando’s forehead presses against hers, his lips parting with a violent inhale, his hands squeezing her hips.

“Jesus, baby,” he breathes, voice wrecked, “What buttons did I push?”

She doesn’t reply. Doesn’t move. Neither does he.

They just sit like that, their bodies locked together so perfectly it almost feels cruel to even blink. The fight, the frustration, the teasing… it all fades away in one moment, replaced by something more intense. Something profund.

When she shifts just slightly, Lando whines, feeling the way she clenches around him, and how perfectly they fit together. The thought makes him throb inside her, the heat of her making his pulse race.

She presses her forehead harder against his, her breath shaky. “Baby,” she whispers, “Shit, you feel so good.”

Lando opens his eyes, finding hers already on him.

For a second, he’s happy to simply look at her. Her flushed cheeks, the way her lips are swollen from his kisses, the way she’s barely holding herself together — everything about her is perfection. Then, he lifts her up, and the sudden rush of cool air against his cock makes him moan.

She shrieks at the emptiness, at the way her body aches to take him back. “Please, not now,” she pleads.

Before she can continue, he shoves himself back in, agonizingly slow, making her feel every inch of him as he stretches her again. As a result, her head falls forward, a desperate whimper breaking from her throat.

Lando keeps his eyes on her, his lips brushing against hers as he speaks, “Already falling apart, love? I’ve barely even started.”

She whines, arms wrapping around his neck, hips twitching like she wants more. Much more.

“This what you needed, yes?” Lando taunts, rolling his hips just enough to make her lose her mind. “You gonna stop being a brat now?”

She tries to answer, but all that comes out is a shaky breath. Lando smiles, dragging himself out just to push back in, watching her eyes flutter shut.

“No, no. Keep those pretty eyes open,” he instructs, nipping at her jaw, “Come on. I wanna watch you break for me.”

Because he is absolutely evil, Lando keeps it slow. Too slow.

Every roll of his hips is calculated, dragging himself out so she feel his cock slipping away, then pushing back in deep, filling her up so completely it makes her walls pulsate. She can’t do anything but take it, her senses overwhelmed by him — by the rough drag of his hands on her skin, the warmth of his breath against her lips, the filthy sound of their bodies meeting.

Then his hands move, sliding up from her waist, fingers tracing over her ribs before finally cupping her breasts. It makes her gasp, her back arching into his touch as his thumbs sweep over her nipples, teasing a little, then rolling them between his fingers.

“So sensitive, look at that,” says Lando, his voice thick with lust. “Are you shaking, baby?”

She is. Her thighs tremble where they straddle him, her whole body squeezing him with every slow thrust, every lazy swipe of his thumbs against her skin.

His gaze drops between them, and his breath stutters at the image. “Beautiful.”

She doesn’t understand at first, too lost in how slowly he fucks her, but then he guides her chin down, forcing her to look.

And oh, fuck.

She can see everything: the way her body stretches to take him in, the way she’s dripping down his entire length, making a mess on his lap, and the way her thighs are trembling on each side of him.

Lando’s heart starts beating faster, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her neck. “See how you’re fucking ruining me?”

She lets out a soft, broken moan, fingers playing absentmindedly with the curls at the back of his head, mostly to anchor herself in the moment.

“Lan…”

“I know, love,” his tongue flicks against her pulse point before he kisses her jaw. “Not so mad at me now, are you?”

Right now? No. She realizes she’s not. She can’t be. Not when he’s touching her like this, fucking into her with such lazy, devastating precision. Not when he’s whispering filth into her ear while looking at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters.

Her hands move, framing his face, tilting it up so she can kiss him again. But this time, their kiss is different. It’s not angry, not desperate, but tender and loving. A kiss that makes Lando’s grip falter, that steals the breath from his lungs and sends him to a new world that’s only inhabited by them.

She whimpers hungrily against his lips, and that’s what breaks him, because he knows he broke her first.

A guttural moan rumbles from his chest as his fingers dig into her thighs. And then he snaps. “Let me take care of you, baby,” he whispers next to her ear, thrusting into her harder. It takes her by surprise, the way he is holding her so tight like he’s trying to fuse them together. “Need you,” he adds.

The sudden change in pace fractures something in her brain to the point she can’t remember anything else except his name.

“It’s okay you’re mad,” Lando assures her. “You can be as mad as you want, yeah? All day, everyday,” he groans, voice wrecked. “I’m still gonna fuck you like this. Gonna give you exactly what you need. Whenever you need me, love.”

Her head falls back, a loud moan spilling from her lips as he loses himself in her, in the heat, the mess, and the way she clings to him.

“Always gonna take care of my girl,” he promises, sealing the words against her skin. “No matter what.”

She can feel his control slipping in the way his thrusts deepen, the rhythm faltering slightly as his breath becomes gradually uneven. He’s still trying to hold back, but she can tell he’s far from behaving. She feels his cock twitching so deliciously inside her, and the way his hands melt with her skin almost painfully on her hips. Every new sensation makes her dizzy, until it’s too much. The pressure building in her chest, the overwhelming feeling of him inside her, the way his hands start roaming over her skin, and his mouth leaving hot trails across her neck — all too much.

With a shaky breath, she collapses forward, her body unable to keep steady, falling against his chest as her hands slide weakly to his sides.

“I can’t,” she gasps, “Can’t hold myself up.”

Lando’s hands move immediately, his hold firm on her back, and voice filled with a deep urgency, “I got you, baby. You know I do.”

And then he flips them, his strength not-so-surprising as he rolls them onto the couch, her body now on her back with him above her. The new angle makes them both moan in unison, the sudden shift in depth making every movement feel sharper, more intense.

Lando’s hands find her thighs, pulling them apart so he can press deeper, pushing into her with a delicious force that makes her stomach tighten and her toes curl. The sound of their bodies slapping together fills the room — wet, sticky, perfect. Her hands reach up, gripping the back of the couch, her nails scratching at the fabric, trying to keep herself grounded as he fucks her harder.

“Fuck, baby,” Lando groans, his face flushed with sweat, his lips parted as he stares down at her, eyes wild with need. “You’re so fucking perfect, can’t get enough of you.”

She can feel him getting closer, the way his movements grow sloppier, more desperate, but there’s no slowing him down. He’s all in — in her, in the moment, and she can barely breathe under the weight of it all.

The sounds of their passion are unrestrained, loud, their breath ragged and frantic. It’s all they hear now: her moans, his grunts, the soft squeak of the couch beneath them. But as the tension starts to crack, she feels herself spiraling as closer to the edge as he is, and she finally feels the last remnants of her jealousy fade away.

She looks up at him, her vision blurry from the pleasure. “You… winked at the waiter.”

Lando freezes for just a moment, his thrusts shallow, and he looks down at her, confusion flickering in his eyes as he forces himself to regain control. “I did?” he breathes out wildly, his lips twitching with a laugh that’s barely contained.

She moans, biting her lip as she writhes under him, “Yes, when she came back with the wine,” she admits, her voice soft, barely a whisper. “It was so stupid, I wanted to throw it in your face.”

Lando finally laughs, a genuine chuckle, his face still flushed with pleasure. “Always so dramatic, aren’t you?” he asks, leaning down to kiss her lips before pulling back. “Wanted to be mad, but you’re too busy getting fucked to even care now, hm?”

She wants to argue, wants to tell him he’s being a cocky bastard, but the words get lost in the sound of her own moans as his rhythm picks up again, faster this time, his cock hitting places inside her that have her seeing stars.

“Oh,” she gasps, her voice full of the tension and the blinding pressure building in her chest, “I’m so... Fuck. I’m close.”

Lando doesn’t ease off. “I know, baby. I feel it.” He pushes her closer, his hands gripping her legs just right, his thrusts brutal and relentless. “Wanna come for me?”

She doesn’t have enough time to process his words. The wave hits her hard, crashing over her like an unstoppable force, and her body goes taut, every nerve lighting up as she cries out, her back arching off the couch as she cums around him.

And Lando isn’t far behind.

He slams into her once more, and then his head falls on her chest with a groan as he releases, the hot pulse of his cum filling her up just as her own orgasm shakes through her. Breathless, they stay like that, bodies joined, both of them tangled in the aftershocks of their release.

“Next time, don’t wink at other girls if you want to keep your eyes,” she finally says, feeling him softening inside her.

“Next time,” he whispers, still trying to catch his breath, “Don’t go non-verbal on me. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

She smiles weakly, pressing her lips to his. “You never mean it like that, do you?”

The air between them thickens, leaving behind an almost palpable silence. Affected by her last affirmation, Lando’s hands find home on her skin, the touch light, slightly hesitant, like he’s afraid to disrupt the fragile calm that’s settled between them.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

She traces her fingers through his curls, her body feeling like a flame now, flickering gently after being ignited. There’s a warmth spreading from her chest, outwards, a comfort that soothes the storm inside her. But still, her heart races, and the lingering heat from their connection seems to hum through her veins.

Lando shifts, moving to pull her closer, his arms wrapping around her. She nestles into him, feeling the heat of his skin and the sweat against hers, the warmth of him grounding her.

“You okay?” she hears him again.

“Yeah... just needed a moment to catch my breath,” her voice is a soft murmur in his ears.

Lando smiles weakly, his lips curling with that familiar grin. He brushes a lock of hair from her face, fingers skimming her cheek like a whisper, and the gesture is enough to make her chest tighten.

“You’re everything I need, silly. Always.”

She knows that. And luckily, the storm inside her has subsided. “I’m sorry, too. For being stubborn,” she whispers, her voice full of a quiet vulnerability.

Lando chuckles, “Stubborn is an understatement.”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “Don’t push it.”

His hands, once firm and assertive, now trace delicate patterns over her skin, mapping every curve, every inch of her as though trying to imprint her into his soul. There is no need for words now, not anymore.

As Lando presses another soft kiss to her lips, she remembers why they will always be able to overcome any childish misunderstanding.

“I love you,” she says, her voice steady.

He smiles, feeling a familiar warmth spreading in his chest. And, instead of saying it back, Lando tilts his head slightly, meeting her gaze with a teasing smirk.

Then, he winks at her.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2025

[wvyik]

quit pouting, winchester’ d.w. ꩜ .ᐟ

dean winchester x fem! reader

summary; dean gets all jealous over something super dumb (he’d never admit it though), and ends up pouting until you kiss him to make him stop being so ridiculous.

warnings; a hint of possessiveness, jealousy with unreasonable doubts, (duh) make out sesh, but other than that — just pure fluff, because this man is soft for you no matter how much he tries to act tough. don’t kiss and drive kids!!

notes; this is my first fic ever!! send some love. thanks so much for reading through my yap sesh. ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

words; 1008

Dean Winchester is pouting.

And, yeah, he’d probably rather die than admit it, but it’s so obvious it’s almost embarrassing. Arms crossed, jaw tight, barely sparing you a glance as he sulks in the driver’s seat of the Impala. You’d think you just crashed Baby into a brick wall with how pissed he looks.

“De.. what is wrong with you?” you finally ask, leaning against the window to look at him.

“Nothin’,” he mutters, gripping the steering wheel like it personally offended him. Nothing, my ass.

You narrow your eyes. “Dean.”

“Nothin’, i already told you.” he repeats, this time with even less conviction.

You huff, shifting in your seat so you’re fully facing him now. “Oh my God, you are such a bad liar.”

He scoffs. “I’m a great liar, trust me.”

“Not to me.”

And, that shuts him up for a second. His fingers tighten on the wheel, his mouth pressing into that stubborn, self-righteous little frown he gets whenever he knows he’s losing but refuses to admit it.

You smirk, slowly realizing what could be the cause of his state. “Oh my God, you’re jealous.”

Dean’s head snaps toward you so fast you think he might give himself whiplash. “What?”

You lean in, grinning now. “You totally are.” you say with a soft chuckle, as if the thought of him being jealous is the most hilarious thing in the whole world.

He rolls his eyes, trying so hard to play it cool, but his ears are so red. “Pfft. Yeah, right.”

“You so are.”

Dean exhales sharply, turning his attention back to the road like the empty highway is the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out how to dig himself out of this one.

“You’re acting all weird,” you point out, watching him squirm. “You’ve been quiet for the last hour. You barely even yelled at that dude who cut you off.”

Dean clenches his jaw. He knows you’ve got him.

“So,” you press, “what’s got your panties in a twist, huh?” As if you already don’t know.

He grumbles something under his breath. Oh, he’s embarrassed. You could tell.

You blink. “What?”

More grumbling.

“Dean.” you repeated, hoping for him to finally speak up.

He exhales roughly, hands flexing on the steering wheel. Then, finally, he mutters, “Nothin’. Just— dude was flirting with you, ‘s all.”

You blink. Then blink again. “Are you talking about the gas station cashier?” Dean says nothing. Which is an answer in itself. Oh, this is too good.

You burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Dean, he barely said two words to me.”

“Yeah? And he was lookin’ at you like a damn puppy,” Dean grumbles. “Like he had a shot.”

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “That is so stupid.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugs, jaw still tight. “‘S stupid to you.”

And okay, yeah, now you kind of feel bad, because he’s being ridiculous, but also kind of… sad about it? Not that he’d ever admit it, but the way he’s gripping the wheel, the way his lips are pressed tight like he’s trying to keep everything in—he actually cares about this. About you.

Which means he deserves to suffer just a little longer.

You scoot closer, pressing your chin to his shoulder. “You know you’re the only one I want, right?”

Dean stays silent, but you feel the way his grip on the wheel loosens. His jaw twitches when you press a slow, lingering kiss to his cheek. You smirk. Oh, he’s melting.

So, you push further, brushing your lips along the sharp edge of his jaw, taking your sweet time. You can feel the tension in him shift— not gone, but different. Like he’s holding his breath, waiting for what you’ll do next.

He clears his throat, but his voice comes out rough. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

You hum, letting your lips trail just a little lower. “Then quit pouting.”

“I ain’t—”

You shut him up with a proper kiss.

And at first, he barely moves—like he wasn’t expecting it, like it takes him a second to catch up. But the second he does, oh, you’ve got him.

Dean exhales through his nose, tilting his head to meet you fully, and then he’s kissing you like he’s making up for lost time. His hand finally lets go of the steering wheel, landing firm and warm against your thigh, fingers flexing like he’s grounding himself.

You don’t hesitate to deepen it, shifting in your seat to turn toward him, your hand moving up to cup his jaw. He’s warm, rough with stubble, and you take your time exploring it, feeling the way his breath stutters when you scrape your nails lightly along the edge.

Dean groans— low, quiet, but wrecked— and then he’s pulling you closer, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck. The Impala swerves slightly.

You pull back just enough to whisper, breathless, “Dean, focus.”

“Tryin’,” he mutters, voice low and strained. “You’re makin’ it real hard, sweetheart.”

You grin, fingers tangling in the short hair at the nape of his neck. “Ain’t that the point?..”

Dean exhales sharply, like he’s trying so hard to keep his cool, but he’s losing. And you? You’re having the time of your life watching him come undone.

You lean in again, kissing him slow and deep, dragging it out just to make him suffer. He sighs into it, fingers pressing just a little tighter into your skin, like he doesn’t want to let go.

Eventually— reluctantly— you pull back, just enough to look at him. His pupils are almost brown in this lightning, lips pink and kiss-swollen, chest rising and falling a little faster than before.

You smirk. “Told you you were pouting.”

Dean exhales, shaking his head with a grumble—but the way he looks at you? The way his thumb traces absently against your knee, like he’s memorizing the shape of you?

Yeah. You definitely won this one.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library. ⊹₊⟡⋆

[luvergirl-866]

i don’t see what anyone could see in anyone else (but you)

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 6.0k

c/w - fluff, they’re both annoying and sassy, p has adhd highkey (twin)

a/n - inspired by the let’s be honest p annoying a video. i just love the girlfriends but best friends first dynamic iykwim 😣. also took a lot of inspo from some tiktok lives 🩷 anyway yeah this is stupid and late for v day but better than nothing!!

It has been a good week.

On Sunday, Azzi made it a point to spend the day getting ahead on schoolwork as much as she could. Coach had been hinting at a grueling upcoming practice week and Azzi knows herself well enough to know she’d end up putting school on the back burner anyway. And that’s exactly what happened, because come Monday, every time she left a class with homework it would end up in her desk, left there to rot until basketball wasn’t her main priority anymore.

Coach hadn’t been lying—he never is about those things. Practice was torture, often running hours into the night as the girls were made to play again and again until they were good enough in Geno’s eyes. But Azzi had been one of the few on the team who loved it, feeling just as renewed as she was drained after each practice. The more exhausted she got, the longer practice went on, the better she performed. It was unusual for her and it struck up a certain confidence, creating a subtle pep in her step everywhere she went.

The only downside to the week was the lack of Paige Time. It’s been like that for quite some time now—really, ever since basketball season started. After the long summer spent basically attached at the hip, the school year was a rude awakening for them and November was even ruder. They were juggling basketball, school, marketing, and their own personal endeavors—especially Paige’s as she prepares to declare. On top of all that, finding time to love on each other has been difficult, if not impossible. Besides for a few kisses in passing and minor flirting in practice, they really only see each other at bedtime and briefly in the mornings.

Which is why, when Azzi wakes up in her girlfriend’s room, she can’t help but smile a little to herself before she’s even really awake. Because it’s Saturday, and the sun is shining through the curtains, and most importantly, they have nowhere to be today.

She can feel Paige’s presence behind her, and can hear the TikToks playing on her phone, signaling she’s already awake. Actually, TikTok might’ve been what woke Azzi in the first place. Now that she’s really waking up, she realizes that Paige has her phone speakers turned up way too high, and a pang of sleepy irritability goes through her. “Babe,” she mumbles into her pillow, “turn that down.”

Thankfully, the tinny noises stop, but they’re quickly replaced by the familiar teasing tone in her girlfriend’s voice. “Look who’s finally awake.”

“What time is it?” Azzi yawns, eyes still closed.

“9:30,” Paige replies.

At that, Azzi snuggles further into the blankets, the scent of Paige enveloping her. “Not even that early,” she says. “Might go back to sleep.”

“Can I wake you up at ten?” Paige asks. “I’m bored.”

“Yes,” Azzi concedes, used to Paige’s neediness, “you can wake me up at ten.”

“Aight,” Paige says, sounding pleased with herself.

Azzi shifts, feeling a little lonely what with Paige all the way on her side of the bed. They’ve had a whole conversation at this point, yet she’s still yet to receive a good morning kiss. It’s off-putting, to be honest. She expects Paige, ever the affectionate one in their relationship, to sidle up beside her now that she’s semi-awake.

Instead, to her shock, the TikTok sounds start back up again. And they’re just as loud as before.

“Paige,” Azzi exclaims, finally cracking her eyes open, turning over her shoulder to find Paige propped up against the headboard, staring calmly at her.

“Hm?” she asks.

Azzi sighs. She hates having to ask for the things she wants. Usually, Paige just magically knows and provides it for her. She must be too busy on stupid TikTok to remember she has a girlfriend who needs attending to.

In lieu of asking straight-up, Azzi reaches back, grasping for Paige’s thigh and looking up at her with big brown eyes.

Immediately, Paige tosses her phone to the side, chuckling. “Mm. Sorry, princess.” Sliding down under the covers, she situates herself closer until she’s hovering above her, close enough to drop a chaste kiss on her lips. “You wanna cuddle?”

“Obviously,” Azzi mutters, reaching up for one more kiss before turning back over, sighing when Paige snuggles up behind her.

“You gotta little attitude this morning,” Paige helpfully observes, nuzzling into the crook of Azzi’s neck.

Azzi closes her eyes, trying to let sleep call to her as it was just a minute ago. “Just miss you,” she says, a little vulnerable in the way she says it—and maybe that’s also due to the minimal clothes they’re wearing, the skin-on-skin contact always making her feel safe and comforted and exposed all at once.

Paige tuts sympathetically, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I know, baby.” There’s a beat of silence as they shift, Paige’s hand running over her stomach, trailing up to one of her breasts. “Missed you, too.”

As much as the touch turns Azzi on, it’s less the sexuality of it and more the sheer domesticity; the way they know each other’s bodies well enough to be comfortable with wandering hands that aren’t meant to lead anywhere. She breathes deep as Paige holds her gently, then clasps a hand over her’s, keeping her in place.

It’s only another minute before she’s drifting off again, Paige’s even breaths in her ear lulling her to sleep.

It’s peaceful—maybe the most relaxed she’s been all week. But as she lays there, trying to get a few more minutes of sleep, Paige’s breathing changes just a split second before she’s speaking too loudly in Azzi’s ear, “I’m hungry.”

Azzi startles a little at the sudden interruption. Her eyes fly open, though only to shoot a glare at her girlfriend. “Paige!”

“What? I am.” Paige frowns, pulling away to sit up and rub her stomach forlornly. “You took too long to wake up.”

Azzi sighs, rolling over onto her back. “I thought you were gonna let me sleep until ten.”

Paige shrugs at that, making big puppy eyes at her, and Azzi resigns to the fact that she will not be getting any more sleep this morning.

“Fine,” she grumbles, sitting up with some effort. “But I’m gonna shower first.”

She stands up, Paige’s eyes tracking her from where she sits on the bed. She whistles lowly as Azzi makes her way to the closet, likely due to the fact that she’s only wearing a pair of sheer panties. Azzi rolls her eyes, pulling on a pair of clothes for the walk down the hall.

Paige, of course, trails her to the bathroom, situating herself on the floor while Azzi starts the water. She watches intently as Azzi undresses, and Azzi catches her pout just as she’s stepping inside.

“What?” Azzi asks when she sees her expression.

“Can I come in with you?” Paige asks.

The offer is tempting, but Azzi is still sore from last night and in all honestly, she’s not in the mood after Paige rudely woke her this morning. “No. I’m only gonna be like five minutes.”

“I can help you.”

“I think I got it,” Azzi laughs, pouring soap onto her washcloth—something she is perfectly capable of doing by herself.

Paige stands up, walking over to Azzi’s phone on the counter. “Okay, then lemme play your music.”

Azzi doesn’t really have time to protest before Bossman Dlow is blasting far too loud over the speakers, and Paige picks up a hairbrush, admiring herself in the mirror as she sings. Azzi rolls her eyes, refocusing her efforts on cleaning up.

Paige looks over and catches the unamused look on her face. “Oh, sorry,” she says sincerely, picking up another hairbrush and holding it out. “You wanted a mic too?”

Azzi sighs. She gets the feeling she’ll be doing a lot of that today.

————————————

It’s not until awhile later that they finally get to the kitchen—mostly due to the fact that Paige kept showing her videos and making commentary while she tried to do her hair, causing the whole endeavor to take a lot longer than it should’ve. Ironically, Paige is the one whining about this by the time they’re finally ready.

“Bro, now I’m really hungry,” she says, continuing to rub her belly a bit like a pregnant lady—which makes Azzi giggle—as she heads to the fridge.

“What should we have, mama?” she asks. Then, as Azzi’s thinking about it, she says, “You’re right, pancakes sound good.”

Azzi hefts herself onto the counter. “Never said that.”

“You took too long to answer,” Paige replies simply. She roots through the fridge for another minute before sighing, turning around to face her. “Do we need milk to make pancakes?”

“Do you have pancake mix?”

“Um…” Paige walks to the pantry at this, taking another minute to search that before once again sighing dramatically. “No.”

“Then, yes. We need milk.”

“Why, though?” Paige asks, frowning. “Shouldn’t water work the same?”

Azzi scrunches her nose up at the thought of water pancakes. “Ew. No.”

Paige shakes her head at her. “Okay, Miss Picky.”

“I know you’re not talking.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Azzi hops off the counter, patting Paige’s chest as she walks past her to the entryway, searching for Paige’s keys. “C’mon, we can go grab some real quick.”

Azzi finds the keys and holds them out expectantly, unsurprised when Paige takes them without hesitation. “I guess. But no fucking around.”

They leave the apartment, and Azzi raises a brow as she watches Paige lock up. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” Paige says, taking her hand and beginning to walk, “we get in, get the milk, and go.”

Azzi swings their hands mindlessly between them. “If I’m remembering right, you’re the one who’s currently unmedicated.”

“Yeah, and I’m chill,” Paige says, pressing the button for the elevator. “My doctors just want my money or sum’, I’m fine without that dumb shit.”

“Paige, you woke me up five times last night because you had things to tell me and didn’t wanna forget.”

“Valid reason to wake you up.” Paige shoves Azzi inside the elevator, and once she follows, Azzi pushes her right back.

“I’m just saying. You’re easily distracted.”

“Nah.”

“We were making out for like an hour yesterday and you interrupted it to tell me a story.”

“It was a funny story,” Paige explains, taking her hand once again when the elevator doors open and dragging her out.

“Debatable,” Azzi quips, even though it was kinda a good story.

“And it’s not like we didn’t continue kissing after that. I just gave us a lil intermission.”

“You never needed intermissions while you were on your meds.”

They’re in the parking lot now, and Paige unlocks her car, nudging Azzi towards it. “Just get in the car.”

“Bossy,” Azzi mumbles.

Believe it or not, the two of them do have days where they don’t fight, argue, or even sass each other. Those days, however, come far and few between—making fun of each other is their love language and thus little spats happen more often than not. And with today being the first day in awhile that they’ve spent together—not to mention Paige’s apparent decision to be more irritating than usual—it’s no surprise that they spend the car ride fighting over music.

By the time they get to the grocery store, Paige is hyperfocused on making sure Azzi stays on track. When Azzi falls behind to smell a candle, she sighs and tugs her away by the wrist: “Bro, why are we going at grandma pace.”

Ironically, Paige, like the hypocrite she is, also finds an abandoned cart in the refrigerated section. Azzi is grabbing milk when Paige bumps her with the cart, getting her attention. When Azzi looks at her, Paige simply says, “Babe, watch,” and proceeds to hop on the cart and ride it down the aisle with the vigor of a small child.

Once the milk is secured, Azzi decides she deserves some remuneration for the taxing work of going out in public with her girlfriend. Stopping Paige on their way to checkout, Azzi looks up at her with big, brown eyes and says, “Can we stop in the books? Just really quick.”

Paige avoids her gaze. “Nah, I wanna leave.”

“Aw,” Azzi coos, running a hand down Paige’s arm somewhat seductively, “please, Paigey? I need new books.”

Still, Paige refuses to make eye contact as she says, “Aren’t you working on, like, two right now?”

Azzi doesn’t usually get this much pushback from her. She wonders exactly why Paige woke up and decided to annoy her today. Still, she knows Paige can’t say no to her. Placing her hand on Paige’s cheek, she turns her face, forcing her to look at her: the slight pout of her lips, the way her eyes widen enough to be convincing. “C’mon, baby,” she says. “I promise I’ll be fast.”

That’s the breaking point. With a sigh, Paige nods, allowing herself to be excitedly led to the book section.

Azzi decides that she’s no longer annoyed with Paige as she searches through the books, reading over the synopses of every one that looks interesting. She’s desperate for something new, even though Paige is right—she already has plenty.

Paige stays miraculously quiet for a solid five minutes, allowing Azzi to take her time and even browsing through a few books of her own.

Those five minutes, however, are as long as she gets before she happens to pick up a romance novel. Paige glances at her in that moment and she barely has time to hide the cover before Paige is gagging, most likely at the straight couple pictured embracing on the front of it. “That’s so gross.”

Azzi puts the book back on the shelf. “It’s no different than when we kiss.”

“Lowkey super offensive thing to say,” Paige replies. Azzi rolls her eyes, watching as Paige reaches down to grab a large book with colorful dragons on the cover. “This looks way cooler.”

Azzi takes a few steps closer to read the bold lettering on the cover, and then snorts. “Paige, that is a coloring book.”

By the time they get back home, Azzi has officially rescinded her earlier decision—she is definitely still annoyed with Paige.

—————————————

When they return to the dorms, despite Azzi’s oddly low patience for Paige’s annoying nature today, she still wants nothing more than to cozy up in bed with her and read her new book. They make the pancakes first, Paige doing nothing to help her case by arguing about how exactly to make pancakes. Once the two of them—plus half the team, who heard from Jana in the group chat that there would be pancakes—are fed, Azzi is ready to retreat back into Paige’s room.

However, most of the team is still there, and Paige’s oblivious ass is refusing to take Azzi’s hints, too busy chatting with their friends.

She’s tried everything: muttering to Paige that she’s tired (“I see a lil’ napski in our future,” is what Paige responds with), sitting herself on Paige’s lap in an unusual display of affection (“We run out of chairs or sum’?” Paige asks), and even aggressively cleaning everybody’s dishes (“I can do that, mama, you go hang,” Paige says, taking over).

At this point, it’s all she can do not to just yell at her girlfriend. She sits on the couch, listening a little sleepily as KK tells her some crazy story. The team is far too raucous for noon on a Saturday, probably in part to the ridiculous amounts of whipped cream and syrup they all used on their pancakes. In the kitchen, Aubrey and Paige start wrestling, and KK stops yapping to go join them. She jumps on Paige’s back, knocking her over and losing her balance in the process until they’re a heap on the floor. Aubrey steps on their backs, flexing, and the girls cheer rowdily.

Azzi is overstimulated.

Refraining from covering her ears, Azzi stands, giving up on the Paige aspect of her afternoon plans. She’s not sure she even wants Paige—who is hysterically laughing as she gets up from the floor—to be with her anymore. It’d be like forcing a hyper dog to cuddle. She’d probably end up getting bitten.

She’s hoping nobody will notice her slipping away, but Kayla does, tugging on a curl as she heads to the hallway. “Where ya going, babe?”

“Paige’s room,” Azzi says simply.

“She’s gonna notice you’re gone.”

Azzi glances at the scene behind them. Someone’s turned on ‘Kung Fu Fighting’ and Ice has now joined the kitchen boxing match. Paige just barely ducks a fist to the face before barreling into Ice’s stomach, once again ending up on the floor, giggling deliriously. The other girls have mostly lost interest at this point, which is fair—this isn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence.

Azzi turns back to Kayla. “I doubt it.”

“Give her five minutes,” Kayla insists.

“She’s too busy being a little boy.” Azzi rolls her eyes, patting Kayla affectionately as she walks past.

In Paige’s room, she breathes a sigh of relief, the closed door offering some solace from the noise outside. Even better, Paige’s airpods sit on her bedside table; Azzi takes them and connects them to her phone, turning on the noise-cancelling setting. Pleased with the results, she settles into her side of the bed, picking up her book and beginning to read.

She gets maybe two pages in before a tap on the shoulder scares the shit out of her.

Jumping, she whirls around, to find Paige standing beside the bed with a sheepish smile on her face.

Azzi takes out an airpod. “Paige, what?”

Her tone comes out more exasperated than she means to and feels a little guilty about the confused look she gets in return. “I noticed you left. Kay told me you were in here.”

“Yeah, just reading.”

“I see,” Paige replies. She hovers awkwardly, then says, “why didn’t you bring me with you?”

Despite her irritability, affection blossoms in Azzi’s chest at her girlfriend’s clinginess, her need to be around her 24/7 if they’re together. And Azzi reminds herself that this is the first day they’ve really had with each other in a while, and Paige is missing her too. Gently, she says, “I tried, but it seemed like you were having too much fun.”

“I mean, I was having fun,” Paige says. “But I’d rather hang out with you than fuck around with those dumbasses.”

“You’re as much of a dumbass as they are,” Azzi quips. “Actually, they probably learned it from you.”

“Like father, like sons,” Paige nods solemnly. Then, unceremoniously, she throws herself on top of Azzi, nearly knocking the wind out of her and crushing her book between them.

“Ow, Paige!” she says, freeing her hands and book as Paige wriggles like a happy little worm on top of her.

“I missed you,” Paige mumbles into her neck.

“We’ve been together all day.”

“You left me alone out there.”

“I’ve been in here for like five minutes.”

Paige lifts her head to pout at her. “Five minutes too long.”

Unable to help herself, she leans forward, kissing the pout off Paige’s lips. When she pulls back, Paige chases after her, trying to deepen the kiss, but Azzi pushes at her chest. “I still wanna read my book.”

“Okay,” Paige says.

“I wanna snuggle with you,” Azzi continues. “But only if you let me read.“

“Okay,” she repeats. She’s staring at Azzi’s lips, though, which doesn’t spark a lot of confidence that she’s actually listening.

“Which means,” Azzi emphasizes, getting Paige’s eyes to snap back up to her’s, “no talking, no showing me TikToks. And no distracting me with sex.”

Paige pouts again at that, batting her eyelashes stupidly. “What, you mean I can’t eat you out while you’re reading?” Azzi flicks her forehead, and she snickers, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Joking. I’ll be good, don’t worry.”

Azzi actually believes her, crazy enough. It’s mostly due to the fact that she and Paige have been together for nearly seven years, so she has her pretty house-trained at this point.

Satisfied, she flashes a smile, picking her book back up. Paige scoots down the length of her body until she’s settled between Azzi’s legs, head resting comfortably on the soft expanse of her tummy. Once they’re situated, Azzi frees up a hand to scratch Paige’s scalp, which’ll keep her happy for a while.

They sit like that for around thirty minutes. The noise of their teammates has died down enough to know that some of them have left, though it’s obvious by the extra chatter that a handful is still hanging around. Paige actually falls asleep within the first ten minutes, which Azzi guesses is probably why she gets so much quiet time.

It still doesn’t feel like enough, though, when a knock sounds at the door. “Y’all decent?”

Azzi glances down at Paige—still fast asleep—and quietly calls out, “We’re good.”

The door swings open and Jana steps inside, followed closely by Ayanna. “We’re going to Chick-Fil-A,” Yanna says, “you wanna come?”

“No, that’s okay.” Azzi pats Paige’s head in a silent explanation. “I’m nap-trapped.”

“Aww, parents.” Jana pulls her phone out, taking a hilariously unflattering close-up of Paige practically drooling on Azzi’s stomach. Azzi giggles as Jana shows her the picture, and she’s distracted enough that there’s nothing she can do when Yanna approaches and jostles Paige awake.

“No, wait—!” Azzi exclaims, reaching out to try and stop her, but it’s too late: the damage is already done. Paige cracks her eyes open with a little groan.

Ayanna scratches the back of her neck sheepishly. Azzi glares at her, then strokes Paige’s hair, trying to coax her back to sleep. “It’s ok, P.”

“Mm,” Paige hums, lifting her head to blink sleepily at them. “Why’d you wake me up?”

“My bad,” Yanna says guiltily. “We just thought you might wanna get Chick-Fil-A with us.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Paige nuzzles back into Azzi’s tummy, surprisingly chill considering she hates being woken from her naps. “Thanks though.”

“Uh-huh,” Jana replies, already heading out the room while she smiles at her phone—Azzi assumes she’s uploading that picture to her close friends.

“Sorry,” Yanna says once again, more to Azzi than anything, before following.

Paige yawns, her warm breath fanning over Azzi’s stomach. As she cuddles back in, Azzi thinks maybe she’ll go back to sleep. She holds onto that hope and resumes her book, threading her fingers through Paige’s hair gently.

This time, it doesn’t work. Which is evident based on the way she lifts herself up on her elbows, giving herself just enough room to press a few kisses around Azzi’s stomach. At first, Azzi tries to ignore it, hoping maybe it’s a casual gesture.

But it’s not long before the kisses slow down as she takes more time on each one, mouth opening so that it leaves the skin of her tummy just a little wet. Of course, it’s out of Azzi’s control the way her thighs tense up, blood rushing straight to her core as her body reacts to her girlfriend’s touch.

Paige curls her fingers around the hem of her top, lips following her hands as they bunch the fabric up to give herself more space, stopping underneath her breasts. She looks up at Azzi, whose gaze is now focused intently on the top of her girlfriend’s head, and flashes a devious little smile before licking a stripe between her ribcage.

Azzi tosses the book to the side, not even bothering to mark her page, freeing her hands so she can use them to pull her girlfriend up by the shoulders, meeting her in the middle for a kiss that’s nowhere near chaste.

Paige is still lying heavily atop her, their chests pressed close together, but it’s still second nature the way Azzi wraps her arms around Paige’s waist in an attempt to get her closer. Paige grins against her mouth at the feeling, their hips coming flush together which makes Azzi gasp despite herself.

“Mm,” Paige hums, beginning a slow, wet trail of kisses down her jawline. “Missed you, baby.”

Azzi can’t help but laugh at that. “We just had sex last night.”

“‘S been way too long since then,” Paige mutters into the crook of her neck. Her teeth graze gently over the sensitive skin and Azzi grips her tighter, thinking she might actually agree with Paige for the first time today.

Paige is obviously building her up, apparently horny after her power nap, and Azzi doesn’t plan on stopping her. This is usually how it goes, anyway, Paige being the initiator nine out of ten times. As Paige pushes her top up above her tits, she knows she has no problem with that.

Her hands are a little cold against Azzi’s warm flesh, nipples pebbled from the temperature change mixed with her arousal. Paige just begins to tweak one of them, making Azzi moan softly—her nipples have always been sensitive—when there’s a sharp knock on the door.

The two of them groan, Paige’s forehead falling against her shoulder.

“Y’all decent?” It is, once again, Jana.

Paige lifts her head, pausing to glance down at her hands where they palm Azzi’s bare tits, and keeping her gaze there as she says, “Not really.”

“Already?” Jana calls, sounding somewhere between amused and disgusted. “You’ve been alone for like five minutes!”

“What do you want, Jana?” Azzi asks before Paige can let out the cocky response she definitely wants to say. Her voice is a little breathy, thanks to Paige absentmindedly rolling a nipple between her thumb and forefinger, and she hopes Jana doesn’t notice.

“We’re not going out anymore. Too much work. I was gonna ask if you wanna watch a movie with us, but…”

“No,” Paige and Azzi yell at the same time.

“Okay, damn,” Jana sighs. “Just being polite. Don’t get pregnant in there.”

Her footsteps trail off, and they make eye contact and laugh, Paige leaning forward to press an amused kiss to her lips. “We have trifling teammates.”

“Don’t talk about our kids like that,” Azzi says.

“They’re some bad ass kids.” Paige gives her another kiss. This time, it’s Azzi who gives chase when she pulls away, but Paige sighs, and to Azzi’s disappointment, pulls her shirt back down.

Azzi pouts, arms traveling up to loop around the back of her neck. “Why’d you stop?”

“They’re still here,” Paige replies. “I’on want them to hear us.”

“They won’t,” Azzi insists. “I’ll be quiet.”

“No, you won’t,” Paige snorts. She kisses Azzi tenderly on the cheek. “Sorry, mama.”

As Paige scoots back down to her original spot, Azzi crosses her arms, feeling a little like a defiant child as she says, “You shouldn’t start something you can’t finish.”

“I know, baby.” Paige nuzzles against Azzi’s navel, doing nothing to help the heat between her legs. “When Jana and Allie are asleep tonight, I’ll get you right, I promise.”

Azzi huffs.

Paige chuckles softly at her, only making her more annoyed. “Thought you wanted to read your book, hm?”

“That was before you touched my tits,” Azzi replies.

Paige lays her head down. “Poor Azzi-Wazzi,” she tuts with faux sympathy.

“You’re a dick,” Azzi mumbles, picking up her book more out of spite than anything, sure she won’t be able to focus on it. She tries valiantly, though.

Her efforts are interrupted at the feeling of fingers dancing across her stomach.

Peering over her book, Azzi sees Paige walking her pointer and middle finger across the length of her tummy, an amused smile on her face as she watches herself. “‘I’m Azzi Fudd’,” she says, voice quiet and high-pitched, “‘and I have a big ol’ head’.”

Taking a deep, shaky breath to calm herself, Azzi returns to her book, pointedly ignoring her.

“‘Babe, do these pants make me look big?’” Paige continues, jumping her hand-Azzi around dramatically as she badly impersonates her.

“No, you look good,” she replies in her normal voice.

“‘You’re supposed to say that,’” Hand-Azzi whines. “‘Tell me for real’.”

“I’m not lying, I love those pants.”

“‘Babe, stop lying to me!’”

Paige sighs dramatically, as if she were actually arguing with somebody else. “I’m not.”

“‘Yes you are. And you’re probably cheating too.’”

“Baby, you know I’d never—“

Slamming her book down, Azzi grabs Paige’s hand, stilling her excessive finger movements. “Paige!”

Paige laughs, probably at herself, sitting up and stretching out. “What?”

“You are stupid,” Azzi replies a little vehemently. With Paige no longer on top of her, she gathers her things and gets out of bed, officially done.

“Where you goin’, mami?” Paige asks, getting up to follow.

Azzi holds a hand up. “I’m going to sit on the couch, so I can read.”

“You’ve been reading for so long,” Paige groans.

Azzi rolls her eyes, turning away and leaving the room.

Paige trails behind her. “They’re watching a movie in there.”

“Okay, then I’ll watch with them.”

“Cool. Wanna sit with me?”

“No,” Azzi says.

Paige grabs her by the waist, holding her against her front, leaning around to kiss her cheek. “C’mon, baby, you know I was just playin’.”

“Okay, and I don’t wanna be played with.” Azzi pulls out of her grasp, shooting a glare over her shoulder.

Paige raises an eyebrow. “Aight, sassy.”

Azzi doesn’t dignify that with a response. She just heads to the living room, flopping down beside Ice to join the movie. She’s relieved (and maybe a little disappointed) when Paige doesn’t follow her.

—————————————

Paige has left her alone for a good amount of time, maybe an hour. Azzi has KK to thank for that: the two of them have been fucking around, playing Fort, and making TiKToks while Azzi enjoys her peace and quiet. She stays in Paige’s apartment, knowing she’s still going to bed with her tonight. Just as long as Paige continues to keep her distance for awhile.

She’s lying on the couch, book held above her, glasses perched over her nose as she reads. The movie ended a while ago, and Morgan and Sarah still linger around, hanging with Jana, and Allie’s in her room. She sort of hopes they don’t hang around too long. As much as she loves her kids, they’re a lot.

Still, it’s manageable. That is, until Paige and KK come barreling into the room, laughing their asses off. Azzi squeezes her eyes shut, hoping they’re going to pass her, but to her dismay, they stop right in front of the couch.

“Babe,” Paige says.

“Yes,” Azzi monotones.

“We need your opinion.” KK cackles as Paige promptly turns around before starting to twerk—or at least, something that looks like it could be twerking—right in front of Azzi’s poor face. “It’s moving, right? There’s motion?”

On any other day, Azzi might sugarcoat it to be nice, but today she just says, “There is absolutely not motion.”

KK clutches her stomach, laughing so hard she almost wheezes.

Paige whips around, hands on her chest. If there were pearls there, she’d be clutching them. “Babe!”

“I told you!” KK yells, pushing Paige out of the way. Azzi groans as she, too, turns around and begins shaking ass. It is admittedly better than Paige’s attempt. “What about me?”

“Mm, it’s a little better.”

“You gotta teach us,” KK says, tugging at Azzi’s hand.

“Ooh, yeah, teach us,” Paige agrees, wiggling her eyebrows. “I’m a visual learner, by the way.”

Azzi scoffs. As if. She pulls herself free from KK’s grasp, then stands. “Absolutely not.”

“Why?” they both frown.

“Because I’m trying to relax and y’all are being weird,” she quips.

“Why don’t you come hang with us?” Paige offers, a little more gently, obviously realizing Azzi is actually a little annoyed.

“No, thanks,” Azzi says. “I’m already overstimulated enough just from listening to you guys.”

Paige furrows her eyebrows. “Where you going, then?”

Azzi sighs, glancing at the door, then to her girlfriend, then back again. “I think I’m gonna head to my room, Paige.”

KK gasps. “Oh, mom and dad fighting?”

“We are not,” Paige insists. Then she turns to Azzi with an exaggerated sad face. “Are we?”

“No,” Azzi says, which is true. They’re not fighting; she just needs a break. “I’ll be back later, okay?”

“Why’re you leaving?” Paige asks, stepping toward her.

“I just…I’m a little grumpy today. Not as patient as usual. I need a few minutes.”

Paige frowns, but KK, never one to read a social situation, laughs. “She really said she has a low Paige threshold,” she giggles, pushing Paige’s shoulder.

“We barely saw each other this week,” Paige says, ignoring KK as she reaches out to hold Azzi’s hands. “We’ve already been apart today.”

“I know, honey,” Azzi says. She decides against pointing out that all in all, they’ve only been apart for around an hour total this entire day. “I promise I’ll be back.”

“Like, soon, right?” Paige says, giving her big puppy eyes that she’s never been able to resist.

“Yes, soon,” she promises. She leans forward for a kiss, KK averting her gaze with an eye roll. “Play Fort with KK or something. You’ll be okay.”

“I won’t,” Paige insists, sounding genuinely worried.

“You will. We have tomorrow, too, remember?” With one last kiss, Azzi releases her hands, grabbing her things to go downstairs. She just barely catches KK making fun of Paige for being a simp before she gets out the door.

————————————

“Open the doooor.”

“Az, c’mon, bro, lemme in!”

“Bitch, you’ve had plenty alone time, pleaseeee.”

Azzi stands by the door, laughing silently at her girlfriend’s pleading—which has been going on, unanswered on her part, for about five minutes now—until her face drops at the last sentence. “What did you just call me?”

There’s a distinctly panicked silence before Paige starts backtracking. “I mean, my beautiful wife who I love and respect. For real, let me in. We can be alone together!”

“Very poetic,” Azzi remarks.

Paige groans, and there’s a thunk that sounds a lot like a forehead hitting a door. “Dawg.”

Once again, Azzi goes quiet, and she can tell the exact moment Paige realizes this because there’s another thunk.

“Azzi, please, babe.”

Still, she doesn’t respond, and that’s when the singing starts.

“Pleaseeee, open the dooorrr,” she sings quite horribly. Azzi quiets her giggle behind a hand.

“Pleaseeee,” she continues, completely off-key. Sza level, my ass.

“No, Paige.”

“Baby, please! It’s almost dinner time.”

“For who? It’s barely four.”

There’s another beat of silence. Then, “Azzi, I’m gonna cry. Please.”

Obviously, Paige is bullshitting her. She’s not going to cry. But still, Azzi’s never been able to be stern with Paige. (And Paige calling her her wife earlier certainly helped matters.)

As soon as she cracks the door open, Paige is trying to barge through, but Azzi stops her with a foot in the door. “Hold on.”

Paige, obediently, stops.

“I’m still a little grumpy,” Azzi admits.

Paige nods. “Okay.”

“So…be gentle, okay? I don’t like being mad at you.”

“I don’t like you being at me,” Paige agrees.

“We’re in agreement, then.”

“A hundred percent.” Paige pushes at the door. “Now, can I come in, please?”

Azzi opens the door all the way, allowing herself to be tackled onto the bed in a very non-gentle way, but still, she laughs. Even when she needs space from Paige, even when she chooses it—she still just ends up missing her the whole time.

“Hey,” Paige says once she’s effectively pinned her to the bed. “Noticed your dorm’s empty.”

Azzi raises an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

“I can finish what I started earlier,” Paige offers, suggestive smile on her face before she says, “unless you don’t want that, obviously.”

Azzi’s pulling her down before she can finish her sentence.

(“We’re getting a sweet treat later,” she says a little while later.

“Okay, princess,” Paige says, situating herself between her legs. “Whatever you want.” And then, she drops a kiss on the inside of her thigh before spreading her open, dipping her head down, and going beautifully quiet for the first time all day. They stay in bed for quite some time.)

When Azzi starts her period the next day, she proudly says to herself, “I knew I wasn’t going crazy.”

[my-castles-crumbling]

barty crouch jr - jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 476

James wasn’t an easily frustrated person. While he wasn’t patient, he was easygoing, and it took a lot to make him annoyed or on-edge.

However, Barty Crouch, Jr. was a special case.

He wasn’t sure why, exactly. It was just that Crouch was so…Crouch. He’d realized it around the time he’d started spending more time with Regulus. He didn’t spend any more time with Crouch– he only saw Regulus alone…and every time he saw him it was secretive and riddled with want and confusion and tension and desire, at least on James’s end. 

But it seemed that now James was noticing Regulus more, he was noticing his friends, too. And Crouch was bloody obnoxious. 

He was touchy, for one. He always had his hands on all of his friends, especially Regulus. A hand on his shoulder or in his hair. Who did that? Sure, James was touchy with his friends but not…not like that!

And he was loud. He laughed like a hyena at Regulus’s jokes and called across corridors to the other boy, practically screaming, “Oi, Reggie! How are you, darling?” It set James’s teeth on edge. His grating voice, his ridiculous laugh, his very presence.

And the way Regulus looked at Crouch, too! Like he was…like he was special! It was infuriating. 

So forgive James for being a bit cold when one day, Crouch approached him and said, “Hey Potter? Have you seen Dorcas? Meadowes? I know she hands around your friend, McKin-”

“No,” he nearly spat, not looking his way. Instead, he looked over to the table where Crouch had come from– where Regulus currently sat.

But Crouch, far from looking offended, broke into a bemused smirk. “Wand up your arse, Potter? What-?” But he broke off when he met James’s eyes and followed their gaze. “Ah,” he said, grinning widely.

James frowned. “Ah, what?” He was beginning to get really annoyed.

“Oi, Reg, darling?” Crouch called to Regulus, instantly making James flush with embarrassment. 

“What the fuck, Crouch? What are you-?” he began to protest, but he was cut off.

“What, Barty?” Regulus drawled, looking over to the two of them with an unamused expression.

“Have we ever fucked?” Barty asked loudly, causing many nearby students to gape.

James gasped and turned red from embarrassment but Regulus didn’t flinch.

“No,” he said simply, a little wrinkle forming between his eyes as he narrowed his eyebrows.

Crouch nodded. “And will we ever fuck?”

Regulus gave a short laugh. “I certainly hope not.”

And even though he was still mortified, James registered a feeling of relief flood through his body. Why-?

“Well, there you have it. So have you seen Dorcas or not?” Crouch demanded, waxing his thanks to Regulus and turning back to James.

“Erm….Gryffindor Common Room,” James mumbled, still blushing, gazing over at Regulus who was hiding a smirk behind his hand.

[teliphone]

Limerence

Summary: Your relationship with Jaeyi is far from normal. It’s toxic, suffocating and obsessive. Students around you stay away from you to avoid trouble with Jaeyi. A new student enters which stirs things a little. Maybe she could be your escape? Or maybe it leads you to sink deeper into Jaeyi’s trap. 

Warning(s): Smut, Jealousy, Obessesion, Slapping, Chains, Fingering, Overstimulation

Word Count: 3.5k

-

Yoo Jaeyi and you walk down the halls next to each other… or rather you’re trying to keep up with her. Her hand tightly wraps around yours, pulling you to match speed with her. You let out a small grunt of pain at how hard she’s gripping. She stares forward, ignoring everyone. You spare one glance to the side. Students mumble with each other as they stare at you. They quickly look away when you make eye contact with them. It’s quite sad, you have soon realized. No one dared try to talk to you ever since you got into a relationship with her. All your friends have left you without any reason. You’re constantly stuck with Jaeyi and it's starting to drive you crazy. The only space she allows you is by letting you sit alone at your desk. She sits a few rows behind you, so she can watch every movement you make. 

Jaeyi drags you into her science lab. The little mice run around in their cages. It creeps you out. You never understood how she could easily test on those innocent mice. You pull back from her grip slightly. She narrows her eyes and finally turns around to look at you. You drop your shoulders in annoyance. You aggressively jerk your hands away before crossing your arms. 

“What are you doing?” You fum. She breaks into a smile as she straightens her back. 

“I want to spend time with you,” She chirps. You roll your eyes and let out a laugh of disbelief. 

“I’ve been with you all day. Can’t I just spend some time somewhere else?” You huff. She turns around and walks deeper into the lab. She opens one of the cages and picks up a small mouse. She completely ignored you. You can feel your frustration building up. You hate when she blatantly ignores you. 

“I am leaving,” You mumble before walking towards the door. You didn’t wait for her response. You knew she was going to find you anyway. No matter how far you try to hide and escape from her, she always seems to find a way to get you. It scares and baffles you. But what scares you the most is if she leaves you. She has removed everyone in your life… all you have left is her. You need her. You pause at the door handle.

“I’ll… text you,” You hesitate before exiting. Jaeyi secretly smirks as she lifts the mice to her face. 

“Cute,” She mumbles directing it to you.  

-

Class today is different. You stare at the new student, Seulgi, standing in front of the class. She looks innocent and lost. Your eyes scan down to see her fidgeting with the ends of her uniform. Your lips broke into a small smile. You wonder if she could survive in this toxic school. She makes eye contact with you and you smile at her—a small one with no further meaning. You didn’t pay much attention to her after that. Returning to working on your homework. Suddenly you feel a presence beside you. 

“...Can I sit here?” She softly asks. Her doe eyes are cute. The students in the room mumble against themselves. Your seat is usually empty. No one wanted to disturb your studying and gave you space. But truthfully it's because they don’t want to get in between you and Jaeyi. They fear what she could do to them. 

“Yes,” You finally answer. You didn’t care what Jaeyi would think. You've had enough of her controlling your life. You can hear a couple of students softly gasping and mumbling. Seulgi smiles and takes a seat. You stare at her a little bit before looking down at your textbook. Jaeyi quietly analyzes the scene before her. Her facade doesn’t break. In fact, she smiles. It gets her excited. She finds you cute for trying to break her rules and not knowing what it will cause you. 

-

It’s a few minutes after break and you walk back to class. You slide the doors of the classroom open to find it empty. You return earlier than the others. You make your way to your desk til a phone notification catches your attention. You scan the room to make sure you aren’t mistaken. You locate the noises coming from Jaeyi’s desk. You look around to make sure no one is around. Her phone buzzes against her desk a few more times. You couldn’t help but find it interesting that she would leave her phone. With curious eyes, you go to look at her texts. 

‘Please delete the video’

‘I apologized!’

‘I’ll do anything you want!’

Your eyes widen in confusion. What video is this person talking about that they desperately want Jaeyi to delete it? Is she blackmailing someone? Before your thoughts can continue, the door slides open. You quickly glance away from her phone. Jaeyi stands at the door staring back at you. There is an unreadable look on her face. She smiles, but her eyes are emotionless. You slightly gulp and avert your stare. You walk to your desk and act like you weren’t caught red-handed. Jaeyi slowly walks past you while staring at you. You feel your heart racing. She takes a seat on her desk and lifts her phone. Her eyes swiftly read the text messages. She glances up from her phone to stare at you with heavy-lidded eyes. 

She knows you saw it. 

She slides off her desk. You hear her footsteps coming closer from behind. You unconsciously straighten your back. Your awareness heightens. She places her hand on top of your shoulders and grips. Your breathing hicks. She leans her body down til her lips touch your ears.

“Don’t tell anyone,” She whispers softly. You secretly clench your fist underneath the desk. She smirks and tilts her head to look at your face. You quickly stand up to get away from her. Her presence is too suffocating. The sweet scent of her perfume is enough to make your brain numb. Your action causes her to widen her eyes and step backward. You tug the green uniform closer to your body before glaring at her. You fascinate her without even trying. From behind, you can hear the sounds of more students entering the room. They all freely talk amongst themselves happily.

“I don’t care what you do as long as it doesn’t involve me,” You speak in a low tone. Little did you know, it does involve you. Everything Jaeyi does involves you whether you like it or not. Her lips slowly turn into a small smirk. You didn’t wait for her response and turned your body around. Right at that moment, a student accidentally bumps into you. The drink in her hand falls onto the white of your shirt. You can feel the cold liquid seep into the cloth. She gasps and immediately starts apologizing. You are stunned for a moment before forcing a small smile. 

“It’s okay,”

“No no, I will pay for you,” She splutters. She starts running her hands over your shirt to try and clean it. Her face expresses such stress and embarrassment. Her movement causes the liquid to spread, making your shirt translucent. You softly grab onto her wrist to stop her. 

“I said it’s okay,” You repeat. She stops moving and stares at you with pitiful eyes. Her poor heart feels like it’s escaping her chest. She nervously looks over to see Jaeyi staring at her with a blank expression. You let go of her hand and start walking to the door. You expect Jaeyi to follow you, but she doesn’t. You secretly feel sad and disappointed about it. 

You enter the bathroom and slowly take off your uniform. This leaves you with just a bra on. You plop the white shirt into the sink and switch on the water. You quietly listen and watch the water drench your shirt. You tilt your head to look at the ceiling and let out a deep sigh. What a hassle. You didn’t have an extra pair of shirts meaning you would have to wear this wet shirt back to class. You reach down into the sink and start scrubbing the material. After a few minutes of scrubbing, you lift the shirt to examine it. Water drips at the edges. Good enough. You wring the shirt til it's somewhat dry and put it back on. The coldness makes you shiver. You just have to suffer through til the end of class. 

You take a seat, slightly shivering. The air feels so cold against the wetness of your shirt. It feels uncomfortable having to be in a class like this. You avoid the stares of other students as you take out your textbooks. Among the students, one is particularly more interested. Jaeyi can't stop staring at you as you try to pay attention to your homework. Her eyes slowly examine your back. She sees the wet damp on your back and tilts her head. The wetness has made your shirt slightly translucent. Your bra is so visible, it's almost humorous to her. She can’t help but think it’s like you want her to see it. She starts to smirk and shift against her seat. You’re so exposed, yet you don’t even realize it. You lean forward to straighten your back. Her eyes dilate at the full view of your back. She nibbles her bottom lip as she starts to fantasize about you, specifically your bra. 

She imagines herself running her fingers down your spine to tease you. She traps you between her body and your desk. You would blush so cutely as she leans her face close to yours. It drives her crazy how reactive you are. 

“Stop it,” You glare at her, slightly pushing against her shoulders. She pushes you to sit on your desk. She quickly slides her body between your legs. She smirks and brings her hands to the front of your wet white button-up. 

“Stop?” She hums as she starts to unbutton the first button. By the third button, she can see your bra peeking out. You shyly look away while biting your lips. She slowly finishes off the last button and quickly tugs your shirt aside to expose your front to her. Finally, after seeing your bra through the shirt, she can see it fully. The cold air touches your bare skin. Your cheeks start to burn bright red. Her eyelids become heavy with lust. She brings her hands up to cup your boobs. Her thumb harshly rubs against your nub. Your breathing hicks. You shut your eyes to save yourself from making more noise. Her two thumbs grind against your sensitive nub while groping the soft plush. She repeats the action over and over til your boobs start to become red from her touches. You tilt your head back and let out a soft moan. She smiles at your reaction and rewards you by kissing your neck. You try to clench your thighs together, but her waist stops you. Your lower stomach feels funny. Suddenly you couldn't handle her touch anymore. It’s making your brain turn into mush. You grip onto her wrist causing her to stop. She leans back and widens her eyes in surprise. Your breathing shakes as you glare up at her. Her eyes were black like the void, unreadable. 

“Do you want me to stop?” She asks softly. 

“...Yes,” You breathe out. You didn’t understand why you said yes. The feeling was too much… but it was also so good. She pauses, deep in thought before her eyes quickly shift. 

“Okay,” She simply responds. She removes herself from your body, leaving you breathless on your desk. Your front is still completely exposed. She smiles at the redness on your chest. As you try to collect your thoughts, you hear a camera click. You quickly glare up to see her snapping a picture on her phone. A picture of your touched boobs. She smiles brightly and slides her phone back into her pocket. 

Jaeyi clenches her thighs underneath her desk. She couldn’t believe that just imagining about you caused her to feel turned on. She grips her pencil and smiles. Laughing at herself for being so needy. It’s silly to her. She forces herself to look away from your innocent body and back to her textbooks. This little game you’re playing is just the beginning. 

Seulgi begins to notice how see-through your shirt is. Her eyes widen, and she swiftly takes off her jacket, gently placing it over you for cover. You turn to meet her gaze, and she offers a soft smile before shifting her focus back to her homework. With a smirk, you touch the hem of her jacket, hoping Jaeyi noticed the gesture. She surely did. Though her expression stays neutral, her grip on the pencil tightens, turning her knuckles pale. 

-

Jaeyi’s room is dark and cold as she slams you against her wall. She traps you between her hands. You grunt in pain at the impact. You could tell your shoulders are going to be bruised again. You glare up at her eyes in hatred. Her eyes dilate and you can see the pure jealousy in her eyes. Her tongue brushes the inside of her cheeks. Thoughts swirl inside her head. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. She’s so jealous. So easy.

“You’re laughing?” Her voice low. You playfully move your eyes from her lips to her eyes while you poke her lower stomach. Your fingers slowly drag up to grip her collar. You tilt your head and lean closer to her face. Her eyebrows lift in amusement. 

“You don’t control me,” You whisper. Her eyes darken as she smirks. You shove her back and attempt to walk away. She quickly grabs your wrist and spins you around. You fight against her, but she is surprisingly strong. Her hands naturally wrap around the back of your neck, forcing you to look at her. Your eyes feel like sharp knives while hers look warm. 

“I’m going to prove to you I do,” She hisses. She presses her lips against yours softly. You try to move away, but the hand behind your neck locks you. Her tongue brushes against your closed mouth. Her fingers gently rub your neck. While she kisses you, she pushes you onto her bed. She quickly grabs your hands and pins them above your head. Her knee secretly slots between your legs causing you to moan. With your mouth open, she can deepen the kiss. 

“Kiss me,” She begs. You try to squeeze your legs together, but her legs block you. You jerk your body, trying to get away from the source. You can feel yourself getting turned on. She leans away from the kiss in frustration. Her eyes are lidded and lustful. Your chest moves up and down fast. She dips her mouth down to your neck to lick and suck. You accidentally let out a soft moan. She smiles and bites down on your skin. She pulls away again to look at your eyes. 

“Your moans are sweet,” She hums. Her voice is so soft and seductive. You feel your heart skip a beat. 

“Fuck you,” You cuss, feeling your cheeks turn red. She smiles and dips down to your ears. Her breathing tickles you. 

“Stop fighting me,” She mumbles. She sticks out her tongue and licks the outer shell of your ears. You twitch against her body, squeezing your eyes shut. She knew every spot to get you hotter. With a quick movement, she unclasps three buttons from your shirt to reveal your bra. She licks her lips and squeezes her legs together. She’s been turned on since earlier. 

“You teased me all day,” She whispers. She lets go of your wrists and places both hands on your boobs. You lay submissively, not trying to move away and she smiles. She starts pressing her fingers into the softness of your chest. Her eyes glued onto them like she’s addicted. Your nipple hardens and exposes themselves on the surface of the bra. Her eyes flicker up to watch your reaction as she brushes her thumbs against them. Your head tilts back a little and hum a soft moan. Her tongue drags down to the middle of your chest. Her hand continues to squeeze your boobs aggressively. You bring your hands down to her lower neck. You gently gesture her head to look back up. 

“Kiss me,” You blush. She lets out a giggle and moves her body up to capture your lips again. You feverishly move your lips against hers. Her lips feel so soft and plump. You feel like you're floating. She tilts her head, bumping her nose against yours. She keeps the pace to match your needy ones. Her brain turns into a mess when you slightly bite her bottom. She pulls away from the kiss, her chest moving up and down. Her fingers move to unclasp the rest of your buttons. She helps you get out of your green school uniform. She starts taking off hers as well but leaves on her black bra and panties. 

You bring a hand up to cover your red cheeks. You feel embarrassed being the only fully naked one. It makes you feel so vulnerable before her. Just how she wanted. She wants to show how much power she has over you. She moves to the side to grab something out of her bed drawers. Your heart starts to hammer against your chest when you realize what she’s holding. There between her hands is a small silver collar with a small chain. She returns between your thighs and gestures for you to sit up. You obey and she clasps the collar around your neck. She tugs the chains for fun causing you to jerk forward. She pecks your lips. 

“Turn around,” She smiles. Your response is too slow making her tug the chains again. You grunt and it clicks into your head to start moving. You turn your body til you're on all fours, your bottom facing her. You gulp nervously because you can no longer see her. Suddenly you feel a hard slap on your bottom causing you to cry out. Her eyes darken and she smiles sinisterly. 

“You know you’re not supposed to talk to anyone but me right?” She reminds you before slapping again. You bite your lower lip to stop yourself from crying out. 

“I am just protecting you,” She whispers. She tugs the chains harshly making your head tilt back. You choke against the collar, tears starting to form. 

“Say you’re sorry,” She demands. She slaps you again and smiles when she sees your ass turning red. 

“S-sorry!” You cry. She places her cold hands gently against your bruised bottom. She rubs them a little then runs her fingers down to your slit. She rubs your core and chuckles. You’re shamefully wet. It’s like she didn’t have to do much for you to turn into a dirty mess for her. She rubs your juice around your clit. You moan and jerk your body. She continues to circle your clit til she can feel your juices spilling from your core. 

“Please,” You beg, jerking your hips to chase her fingers. She smirks and tilts her head. 

“Yes?” She purrs. 

“...Please put it in,” You blush. 

“Anything for you,” She hums before shoving two fingers into your core. You gasp at the sudden feeling of getting full. You squeeze your eyes shut and grip onto the bed sheets. Your eyebrows furrow in pleasure. She moves her fingers in and out slowly, watching closely at how your hips jerk against her. She feels more turned on and bites her lips. She lets you ride her fingers for a moment. Listening closely to your quiet moans. But you’re moaning too quietly for her. She tugs the chains hard causing you to tilt your head back. It chokes you. She starts moving her hands fast, abusing your walls. You cry out loudly. 

“You react so well,” She mumbles to herself. The sounds of your wet core against her fingers become embarrassingly loud. You moan so sweetly it sounds like a melody in her ears. 

“I’m going to come,” You choke. She moves her fingers faster and tugs the chains harder. You feel so sinister in this position. It makes you roll your eyes back and moan. Her two fingers slide easily against your wet gummy walls. After a few more strong thrusts, you come onto her fingers. You let out a loud high pitch moan. Your silk runs down her knuckles and she chuckles. She lets go of the chain and slows down her movement to let you catch your breath. She pulls out her wet fingers and rubs your clit. Your body shakes and jerks from overstimulation. Just when you thought it was over, you felt her fingers thrust into your core again. 

“I am going to make you come over and over til you turn dumb,” She snickers, slamming her fingers knuckles deep. You cry out and jerk your body away from her, but the chains limit you from moving away. You claw at the collar, but find it useless as your body bounces at each of her thrusts.

“I want to numb your mind til all you think about is me.” 

[hahashifts]

Villain POV

Well this was unexpected. Not at all how I'd expected this night to go. The hero of the city, bleeding and broken on my doorstep, because this was the only place they could think of to go that would be safe.

I surpressed the warmth rising in me, strange sensation - probably mere indigestion from dinner. Regardless, the bane of my existence was in my arms and I was putting her on my sofa. I could hear the men who had done this to her racing straight for my home.

Good. They will taste my wrath and I will dwell out the vengeance for the fallen hero they defiled with their wretched hands. I'd relieve them of the damned appendages before I ended their miserable life's. Make an example of them for any others that may try to follow in their footsteps.

Being a villain, sewing chaos and disorder and fighting against the system is one thing, but cruelty and vileness for the sake of it was a disgrace that couldn't be forgiven.

The little heroes light was out, her magic somewhere far away. It would return to her or they would suffer all the more for it. But she was stable enough for me to deal with the trash quickly approaching my doorstep. No need to sully the furnishings with their blood.

I stepped over the threshold of my domicile and closed the door just as they approached me. Three men, all clearly drunk.

"Good evening, gentlemen." I sneered as I smelled her blood on them. I saw red. "It appears you put your hands on something that doesn't belong to you," and in one smooth motion my sword was out and had sliced through each of their wrists like slicing butter and their screams pierced the night air as they realized, stunned and eyes bulging, as all 6 pairs of their hands fell from their wrists to the cobblestone streets. "You do know the punishment for assault and rape, I presume? Good."

I kicked the man in front of me, reeking of ale and her blood, his kneecap shattering from the impact and wrenched his head down into the stone beneath me hard enough to shatter his teeth and crack open his skull. It was easy to pick him up and throw him across the courtyard, as if he weighed no less than a rabbit.

The next man had bruised knuckles and more of her blood on his shirt and neck, so I removed his jugular and tossed it toward one of the alley cats that had snuck nearby, hearing the commotion. Sputtering and attempting to grasp at his gaping neck with the stubs of his bleeding arms he fell to his knees and it was a simple thing to twist his neck and end him.

It wasn't on purpose, of course, but his head was a full 180° when I let him go.

The third man was screaming and attempting to run away, the coward, but he slipped on his friends blood and fell with enough force that he bit through his own tongue, severing the appendage so I didn't even have to go through the effort of doing it myself. I loved how fate often worked in this way.

He, however, had clearly touched the precious jewel that was bleeding all over his vintage velvet sofa, and for that he needed to suffer.

There was a fountain in the middle of the courtyard, but that was too good for the scum. No, he would need - Perfect.

Grabbing him by the collar it was an easy thing to drag him to the nearest puddle and shove his face into the muddy, disgusting city water, keeping my boot pressed tightly to the back of his neck so he could struggle and kick but with no hands and his severed tongue it was only a matter of whether he would bleed out or drown in the shallow puddle.

It didn't really matter to me, so long as his death was painful and as humiliating as she must have felt fleeing through the streets half naked with torn clothes and a bleeding temple.

Red swarmed my vision again and the maggot beneath me was still squirming, so I snapped his thigh with my other boot and put all my pressure on the back of his neck, killing him soundly.

It was a simple call to some of my guys to have them come clean up the bodies and the blood, and I left the cats to lap at the blood pooling in the streets and the bodies left for the rats.

My men knew not to bury them, but leave them out somewhere for the animals, for that was the only fitting end for them.

When I returned her breathing was shallow but some of that inner light was beginning to shine through, just barely pulsing with her heartbeat like a constellation of silver glowing freckles, dim, but there.

I sighed with relief.

She'd... Trusted me. Trusted me when she was at her most vulnerable. It was an odd feeling, one that I hadn't felt in... I'm not even sure when.

Decades, if I had to guess.

I quickly cleaned the blood off me and whatever other remnants were left of the maggots, then got to work on cleaning and bandaging the damaged girl on his couch.

Enemy, he tried to remind himself.

But looking at her, the way she'd looked at him when he opened the door as if he was her salvation...

That stirring and flickering of warmth in my chest flared up again. Had I been poisoned? Surely not, it was just her presence, of course. I'd felt this way around her since we'd had our first run in two years ago. Some reaction to her innate inner magic, I'd assumed. It was proof of how powerful she was, part of what made her such a fantastic adversary.

But what had been done to her tonight... What had she been doing on this side of the river in the first place? Alone?

Nobody was to lay hands on her except for me, everyone knows that. Everyone in the underground knows, everyone on the river knows, everyone in the city knows she's mine. Doing this to her, especially those nobodies? They'd be lucky if any of their crew made it to see tomorrow.

She was in rough shape. She had a black eye, split lip, nearly broken cheekbone, cut on her temple that had stopped bleeding, finally.

Damn head wounds bleed so much on these half linggs, I had nearly forgotten. I covered her with a blanket when I'd first brought her inside and laid her on my couch, partly for her sake, partly for the sake of my dear quiet corner of this shit hole of a city.

I was fairly certain they hadn't gotten as far as they had probably hoped, but I'd never seen the kind of fear in her eyes as I did when I opened that damn door tonight. She was terrified. And she'd probably never admit it. But I'd seen it. And she'd trusted me.

In this, I wouldn't break that trust. There were few things I bothered to do right these days, but I did have a code, and it was no hard feat to fit protecting her - my enemy - from her enemies and those that would do her harm.

The hero shows up at the villain’s doorstep one night. They’re shivering, bleeding, scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in their eyes– they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they’re close to passing out, they mumble “…didn’t know where else to go…” then collapse into the villain’s arms.

[heeluvv]

the crowd YEARNS for brat-tamer enha x bratty reader

very late to this request but i did it so i hope you like this, also note, it's pretty long and i kind of rushed it at the end..but still i hope you like it either way :)

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 ۫ ꣑ৎ

pairing ￬ brat-tamer! enha x brat! reader

genre ￬ smut

warnings ￬ overstimulation, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), etc.

natty's notes ￬ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

you've always been a brat—a spoiled, insufferable tease who thrives on defiance. pushing buttons, breaking rules, testing limits—it's all second nature to you. but tonight? tonight, they've had enough.

dinner time is a disaster. you push your plate away with a dramatic sigh, rolling your eyes when heeseung tells you to eat. "i'm not a kid," you scoff, stabbing at your food with your fork. "you can’t make me."

jungwon exhales sharply, placing his utensils down with deliberate patience. "don’t test us. eat."

but you don’t. instead, you slouch back in your chair, swirling your drink lazily, watching their growing irritation with amusement. jake’s jaw tightens. sunghoon leans back, arms crossed. sunoo shares a glance with ni-ki, who only smirks, waiting to see how far you’ll push them.

"oh, is little princess pouting again?" jay taunts, raising an eyebrow. "acting like a brat because she’s not the center of attention?"

you roll your eyes. "maybe i wouldn’t act out if you weren’t all so boring."

that’s the final straw.

chairs scrape against the floor as they stand, movements slow and deliberate. the atmosphere shifts, the air thick with something far more menacing than their usual patience. suddenly, you don’t feel as bold.

jungwon is the first to speak, voice eerily calm. "we warned you."

sunghoon steps closer, tilting his head. "you wanted attention? you’ve got it."

the realization of what’s coming settles in, your confidence faltering as they corner you. hands grip your wrists, pushing you down, making it clear that this time, there’s no escaping.

"let’s see if you’re still so mouthy after we’re done with you," heeseung murmurs, dark amusement in his tone.

niki acts first, his hands gripping you firmly as he lifts you onto the table, the wood cold and unyielding against your back. his fingers, calloused and eager, work swiftly to remove your clothes, the fabric whispering against your skin as it falls away. "this’ll teach you something.." he growls, his voice a low rumble like distant thunder. he kneels before you, his mouth finding your warm, damp center with a hunger that steals your breath. his tongue, hot and insistent, explores your most intimate places, sending waves of sensation crashing through you.

you gasp aloud, the feeling of his tongue working through you like liquid fire. "is this what you wanted, baby?" jake taunts, his voice a velvety purr as he steps closer. his hands, strong and sure, rest on your full breasts, kneading and massaging, occasionally rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, sending sharp jolts of pleasure and pain mixed together. "ki—! please.." you plead, your thighs trembling violently against the side of niki's head, your body taut as a bowstring.

"look at you now, so helpless.." sunghoon sneers, his voice a slow, lazy drawl. his hands, deliberate and teasing, rub against the growing bulge in his pants, the friction creating a rustling sound that seems to fill the room.

your release is a freight train barreling down the track, the way niki works his tongue on you sends electric shivers cascading over your body like a waterfall. jake's hands roughly massage your breasts, his calloused fingers grazing against your soft skin, sending a wave of heat coursing through your veins. and then, there's a new sensation—heeseung's soft lips pressing firmly on your neck, his hot breath on your skin.

it sends you spiraling over the edge, a supernova exploding behind your eyelids. your legs shake violently, like a leaf in a storm, as you cry out your release. niki laps you up like a cat with a bowl of milk, his soft tongue gliding along your sensitive skin. your respite is short-lived, as you feel sunghoon's mouth on you, his hungry touch more demanding than niki's gentle caress. the overstimulation is a live wire, raw and electric, coursing through your body. "ngh! hoonie—s-stop!" you moan, your back arching off the dining table, your body taut like a bowstring. you hear sunoo's chuckle, low and throaty, from a few feet away. jungwon's taunting echo fills the room like a dark melody, "already begging to stop when we haven't even started, baby?"

sunoo steps closer, his fingertip tracing a delicate line over your stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps and fluttering sensations in its wake. "you look so cute, baby…" he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety purr. his fingers drift languidly downwards, grazing your aching clit with feather-light touches. meanwhile, sunghoon detaches himself from you, only to replace the feeling of emptiness with the thick, solid length of his cock. he slams down on you roughly, a guttural grunt escaping his lips as his head tilts back in ecstasy. "oh fuck… shit," he growls, his pace quickening, sunoo's fingers matching the rhythm perfectly. "please! i c-can't!" you gasp, your eyes welling up with tears as your second orgasm threatens to overwhelm you, the sensation of their dual attentions pushing you swiftly towards the brink. your body trembles, the room filling with the symphony of your combined pleasures, the air thick with the scent of desire and the electricity of passion.

the air is thick with a charged atmosphere, as the dim lighting casts long, dancing shadows across the room. "you're going to take it, all of it," jungwon murmurs, his voice a low, velvety growl that seems to resonate within your very core. he positions himself on your left, his lips tracing a delicate, meandering path down your wet cheek, each touch a spark igniting your skin. suddenly, you're overwhelmed by a tidal wave of sensation, your second orgasm of the night ripping through you like a storm. the feeling is almost unbearable, a loud sob erupting from your throat as intense pleasure courses through your veins like liquid fire.

sunghoon withdraws quickly, a loud groan escaping his lips as he discharges himself onto your stomach, the warmth spreading across your skin. sunoo swiftly takes his place, not giving your body a moment to relax. he enters you in one fluid motion, your breath hitching at the sudden intrusion. your body is still trembling from the aftershocks of your previous orgasm, the sensations heightening every touch, every movement. sunoo pushes you higher up onto the dining table, your head tilting back for mere seconds before you feel a pulsating hardness against your lips. it slips past your lips and into your mouth, the salty taste and smooth skin filling your senses. the loud whine and grunt confirm it's jungwon, his slow thrusts allowing your warm mouth to envelop him completely.

"this is what you get for being such a brat…" heeseung taunts, his lips never ceasing their relentless assault on your neck. you can feel the pressure building, the pleasure and pain intertwining as you're sure your neck is adorned with dark, purple hickeys—each one a testament to the night's intense passion.

you're aching from the intensity. the room is filled with the thick scent of sweat and sex, and a chorus of grunts and moans. the pleasure is overwhelming. you're losing count of the waves crashing through you. your body convulses, and vision blurs as the orgasm rips through you. you feel the sudden gush of release as you squirt all over sunoo. he had fallen to his knees after his own climax. you can feel the heat of him on your thighs. you can practically taste the salt of him in the air.

you can't catch your breath. you can barely form a thought. jake is behind you, his cock stuffing you, stretching you, filling you. each thrust is hard and impatient. he is wild and hungry. you feel yourself shaking, building again. heeseung is in your mouth, his fingers gripping your hair. you can feel the veins of him against your tongue. he is aggressive. he is close.

your neck is strained, your throat constricting around him, and the lack of air makes you lightheaded. you can feel the vibrations of heeseung's groans, his body trembling as he hits the back of your throat. you can't speak, only whine softly, the sound vibrating through heeseung, sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. the pleasure is too much. It's a mess.

you're shaking again, the fourth orgasm tearing through you like a storm. jake doesn't pull away. he roars, a guttural sound from deep within his chest. he comes hard, his body jerking against yours. his cum shoots through you with such force, and he moans loudly, a chorus of "fuck! fuck!" filling the air, his cock pulsing inside you.

you try gasping for breath when jake pulls away, but there's no respite, heeseung cock prevents it from happening. jay is there, pushing inside you. his hand is on your throat, his fingers tightening and loosening, pulsing with his thrusts. heeseung groans, feeling your throat constrict around him. his cock is slick and hot in your mouth.

jay leans down, his breath hot on your ear. "fuck baby..i’m not going to last long," he whispers, his voice strained. his brows are furrowed, sweat dripping from his temples. he comes with a chorus of grunts, filling you, his body shaking against yours.

heeseung follows right after, a low grunt escaping his lips. he fills your mouth completely, his body trembling as he rides out his orgasm. the room is thick with the smell of sex, a heavy musk that clings to your skin.

niki chuckles softly, his voice a low rumble. "think you learned your lesson, sweetheart?" he asks, a smirk playing on his lips. you try to nod your head, your body limp with exhaustion. you know better now. you won't mess with them again. your body aches, your mind is blurred, but the lesson is branded into your skin. you're theirs, completely and utterly.

natty's notes ￬ i hope you enjoyed!

[bucketbueckers]

TEAM BUECKERS

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

content: language, kinda silly, kinda rushed

wc: 5.9k

synopsis: For you and Paige, the line between “friends” and “something more” wasn’t always this blurry. You weren’t quite sure how you got here, and if you were being completely honest, you didn’t know if you were brave enough to ever cross that line fully. It’s not until Paige ropes you into a Valentine’s Day couples contest you realize, with the two of you, that line never really existed at all.

notes: happy (late) valentines day 😋 yes i'm posting this after midnight on february 15 and yes i tried my best to get this out on the 14th when it was, you know, actually valentines day, but i fumbled majorly and im like 50% sorry. not proofread bc im sleepy. i lowkey don't know how to feel about this but i think the end makes up for it but i had an idea for this and it honestly derailed. i still don't know how taglists work (if you've asked and you're not on here, i'm sorry i will just throw up and die if i tag someone who doesn't actually want to be tagged in all of my works i hope u understand, pls be super specific my brain doesn't function like it used to) uhhh so yeah lmk what we think & happy vday 🫶

tags: @jnkbueckers

You and Paige weren’t always like this. There used to be a clear boundary in your friendship, a strictly platonic one where her embrace didn’t make your heart race and where her mischievous smile didn’t fill you with an exasperation that bordered on endearment. You didn’t always wear her jersey at games, didn’t always keep her favorite ice cream stocked in your apartment for nights she came over to binge watch the same show the both of you have probably seen a combined thousand times, didn’t always confuse where you begin or where she ends. There used to be a time where the two of you weren’t so inexplicably intertwined in the fabric of each other’s lives. 

If anyone asked, you wouldn’t be able to identify when everything shifted – when your feelings transformed into what they are now. It just happened. The realization was as easy as waking up next to her on the couch, your legs tangled under a blanket far too small for the both of you, her arm tight around your waist to prevent you from falling off of the cushions entirely. It was as easy as the spare toothbrush you keep in your bathroom because she sleeps over so often, as easy as the drawer you have in her room because sometimes her dorm is just closer than your apartment.

So maybe it was kind of inevitable that ‘you and Paige’ turned into a ‘You & Paige.’ The two of you have a simple understanding. You keep her grounded, she encourages you to dream a little bigger. You talk, she listens. You round each other out in so many ways that you’re not the least bit surprised by how many people think that you and Paige are dating. If anything, they’re more surprised when you correct them, saying, “She’s just my best friend.”

You’re content to take your feelings for her to the grave. Maybe you would get over her eventually. She’s Paige Bueckers. She has a national championship and the upcoming draft to focus on and you have your senior thesis due at the end of the semester. The both of you have a lot on your plates – you care for her too much to complicate things for her, even if that means putting your own feelings on the back-burner.

You’re sitting on your couch, twelve pages into your paper, sifting through the twenty-eight (yes, twenty-eight) tabs you have open for your research when you hear your door knob jiggle. You don’t think too much of it, trying to stay focused on the task in front of you before you give up and start scrolling through social media again. However, your discipline doesn’t last for too long because the familiar rhythm of footsteps could only belong to one person. You look up to find Paige making her way into your living room like she owns the place (which she may as well, considering how often she’s around), depositing her duffle bag on the armchair. You greet her, returning to your work, but you feel the couch dip under her weight as she takes a seat next to you.

And then she sighs. Loudly. Dramatically, like she’s begging for your attention. Like you’re not busy. You glance at her from the corner of your eye, finding her staring straight at you, but she says nothing. A few beats pass. You add a new sentence to your paper, pausing to go back and find the reference page. She sighs again, more purpose and intent behind it this time, and your lips quirk slightly. Still, she says nothing, and the silence stretches on for so long that you’re sure she’s given up on trying to annoy you.

You write one more sentence before she leans over, sprawling out across your body, chin pressing into your keyboard. Your eye twitches as a long string of ‘M’s takes over your Word document. Paige sighs again, sounding forlorn, like a kicked puppy, and you know you’re not going to get anything done unless you entertain her.

“Okay,” you say, pulling your computer out from under her head, making sure to save your paper before you close the lid. “What’s wrong?”

Her face brightens almost immediately. “I am so glad you asked,” she states. “So, I’m walkin’ through campus today, right?”

“As one does.”

She hums. “And there’s a shit ton of tabling outside the student union. Frats, clubs, some vegan guy giving out pamphlets –”

“Paige,” you interrupt, raising a brow. “The point?”

“Oh.” She nods, collecting her thoughts. “So there was this club – forgot who they were, lowkey, there was a lot of letters – but on Friday, they’re hostin’ a Valentine’s Day contest and the first place prize is insane. I’m talking gift cards, cookie decorating kits, I think there was even a coupon in there for a fucking spa trip, or some shit, but you get the point, yeah? I wanted to sign us up for it.”

You had to admit – you were a little intrigued by it. Between your class work and Paige and her teammates giving you an aneurysm every week, you were in dire need of a spa trip and a little bit of relaxation. But more than anything else in the world, you knew Paige. You recognized that gleam in her expression – it was a feigned nonchalance, like she was being slick and trying to hide it. “What’s the catch?” you ask bluntly.

She laughs, the sound more surprised than amused, and her head shifts in your lap to gaze up at you. You try to ignore the way it sets off a swarm of butterflies in your belly. “What makes you think there’s a catch?” she asks.

“You’re Paige Bueckers,” you state. “There’s always a catch. Like I knew there was a catch when you asked me if I would hide fourteen blonde wigs in my apartment.”

“They were for CD!” she argues. You narrow your eyes at her and she huffs a little, amused, her lips quirking into a radiant smile. “A’ight. I guess you got a point.” You hum, because of course you do. Her expression turns serious as she sighs, for real this time. “It’s a couple’s contest,” she admits. “But hear me out, okay?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice,” you grumble, but your mind is racing.

“There’s a couple rounds,” she explains. “Like, the first round is trivia. How well do you know your partner, type shit. They score you, then they eliminate the people who don’t know shit about their partners. Second round is teamwork. They’ll give you a couple of puzzles and the most points will go to the teams who work well together and solve the puzzle quickly. More eliminations, then the partners are separated and they’re asked questions about each other – about what, I’on know. That should be the final round of eliminations and then the remaining couples are ranked based on points and prizes are given. Light work.”

“Light work?” you echo, a little self-deprecating. “Paige, we aren’t a couple.”

“Well, not exactly,” she concedes. “But we know each other pretty well. And can you really say no to the spa coupon?”

You bite your lip, sighing as you truly contemplate it. She’s got you there. The prize itself is worth the heartache that will come with pretending like you and Paige are actually dating. “You sure we can handle it?” you ask.

She pats your side, almost ignorant of the way it sends electricity coursing down your spine. “Duh,” she says like it’s obvious, her lips growing into a confident, assured smile. “We’re a dream team, baby. We got this.”

You could only hope so.

You nervously adjust your dress as you and Paige stand outside of the large room that the Valentine’s Day contest was taking place in. You spent the entire week leading up to Valentine’s Day an anxious wreck – part of you was worried that you would slip up and say something that you would come to regret, maybe say something a little too real. You had to keep reminding yourself that you and Paige were playing a part and once that gift basket was in your hands, then things could go back to normal. 

The two of you dedicated the better part of the week to perfecting your cover story. How you met, where you met, how long you’ve been together, all of the cheesy romance milestone moments that you were certain you’d be asked about. You mutually decided to not get too creative as maintaining the lie would become even more difficult, but you were confident in your ability to sell a story.

“You ready?” Paige asks you, drawing you from your racing thoughts as she squeezes your hand gently. You didn’t even realize her hand had slipped into yours. Now that you’re aware of it, it’s all you can think of. Her hand is strong, enveloping yours completely, and it brings you a calming peace you weren’t even aware that you’d been seeking out. Feeling yourself relax, you meet her eyes and nod, trying not to smile too hard when she beams at you.

As she leads the two of you inside the auditorium, you do your best to not stare too much at her. She’s dressed simply yet elegantly; donning a fitting suit that’s a light pink in color in honor of the occasion, the fluorescent lights overhead reflecting off of her stunning chains and the rings adorning her fingers. Her hair is tied back in her formal slick-back, the diamonds in her ears sparkling, and you really have to drag your eyes off of her. You’d already spent so much of the drive over staring at her and you’re sure she’d caught you a few times but was too nice to say anything to you.

The event had a decent turn out. You count fourteen couples at most, fifteen including you and Paige, although you couldn’t really tell if that was good or bad. Beating fourteen other real, actual, dedicated, in-love couples was totally manageable. So what if you and Paige weren’t actually together, but you were the most convincing pair of best friends the world had ever seen? She said you could do it, and damn it if you weren’t going to get that spa treatment.

The auditorium, however, was decorated to the nines. Lights and streamers were strewn about, various complementing shades of pinks and lilacs matching the Valentine’s Day themes. The tables were covered in pink tablecloths with gorgeous centerpieces. Honestly, you had to give props where they were due – this club has gone all out for this Valentine’s Day event, although you’re sure they probably splurged their semesterly budget on all of the amenities.

Before you or Paige have the chance to say anything to each other, you’re approached by a young woman wearing a pink polo shirt with the club's name and logo emblazoned on the chest. UConn, UMatter. You glance quickly at Paige, trying not to let the amusement show on your face as you remember her words – ‘There was a lot of letters.’ She was so full of shit. “Hi guys!” the young woman greets enthusiastically. “Thanks so much for signing up. What’s the last name?”

“Bueckers.”

The girl nods, scanning her clipboard before finding Paige’s name. “Okay, perfect. Let me show you guys to your table.” She leads you diligently through the room, craning her head over her shoulder to explain. “Madelyn’s gonna be around soon to walk you guys through the trivia section once we start, alright? She’ll let you guys know everything you need.”

You and Paige thank the club member and she offers you two one last smile as the two of you sit down next to each other. Paige’s hand finds your knee, almost subconsciously, and you try to find your dignity. It’s then that you notice the placecard in front of you – elegant script reading TEAM BUECKERS. With a quiet laugh, you nudge Paige’s elbow, drawing her attention to the paper. “‘Team Bueckers,’ huh?” you ask her teasingly. “You forget about me?”

“Never,” she swears. “I think they assign the names based on who registered. Trust me, I had a name lined up and everything. We were gonna be PB & Slay.”

You snort. “I’m Slay?”

“No,” she deadpans. “You’re PB. Keep up, please.”

“Of course,” you say obviously, like it’s definitely your fault. “I’ll do better next time.” She squeezes your knee under the table, smiling wryly at you.

Once everyone filters in, the girl who’d greeted you at the door makes her way to the front of the room, adjusting the microphone. She introduces herself as the president of the UConn, UMatter club, explaining some of their objectives and goals for the spring semester – you tune out a lot of it, which you’ll probably feel bad for later, but you weren’t here for the club recruitment. You were here for the pedicure that was calling your name this weekend. She makes it through the rest of her opening remarks, officially announcing the beginning of the first challenge: trivia. Several club members make their way to designated tables and a short, brunette girl takes a seat in front of you and Paige.

“Hey, guys,” she says, grinning widely and handing the both of you dry erase boards and a marker each. “I’m Madelyn. I’m gonna walk the two of you through today’s challenges. We’ll go back and forth – you answer one, then the other, so on and so forth. If your answers are the same, then you’ll get a point. Ready?” You and Paige hum affirmatively. “Alright. Question for Paige – when is your partner’s birthday?”

Paige huffs, her lips quirking into a smile as she uncaps her marker. “Light work,” she murmurs as she writes her answer down. “It’s a national holiday.” You roll your eyes as Madelyn laughs. Paige flips the dry erase board around, showcasing it to you and Madelyn, and you nod as Madelyn awards you both one point.

“Same question for you,” Madelyn says to you. “When is Paige’s birthday?”

You uncap your marker and write down your answer. October 20, 2001. “The world hasn’t known peace since,” you murmur under your breath, drawing laughter from Paige. You flip your board around and Paige nods smugly.

“Two for two,” Madelyn states. “Next question for Paige. What trait of yours is your partner’s favorite?”

You and Paige exchange a glance, her brow raising teasingly. She writes down her answer and you do the same, eventually flipping your boards over for the reveal. The two of you hadn’t exactly prepared well to answer this one, so you were hoping that you and Paige were on the same wavelength. You lean forward, glancing at her whiteboard, and smiling with relief when you see her answer: she likes my energy. Paige’s smile is smug, but there’s an underlying softness in her eyes. “Don’t laugh at me,” you huff, trying to explain. “You just — you have this way about you, like you’re kind, warm, you make people smile, and you always support them. You’re just genuinely good and, I don’t know, I really like that about you.”

Paige’s smile isn’t any less confident, although she seems a little bashful now, her cheeks tinging pink. “Three for three.” she says.

Madelyn tries to stifle her grin, but it’s clearly not working. “Next question is for you. When Paige is having a rough time, how do you help her relax?”

“With great difficulty,” you gripe, making Paige and Madelyn snort as you write your actual answer. By forcing her to chill the fuck out. You and Paige flip your boards, hers reading a much politer She makes me do nothing all day. Madelyn nods, awarding you the point, but you hardly pay her any mind as you meet Paige’s eyes. “You do too much,” you say, which makes her groan. “You overwork yourself and you microdose a burnout and I have to make you sit down and remember that you’re human.”

“You’re worse than me!” she points out.

You sniff. “This is about you,” you declare, “not me.” Paige rolls her eyes fondly, but she can’t help her laughter. 

“Next question,” Madelyn says, grinning. “Paige, what did you guys do on your first date?”

This was a question that the two of you had prepared for. You both decided that a little bit of the truth went a long way and the truth was that you and Paige had no shortage of quasi-dates that you could easily draw from. You tried not to think too hard about that as the two of you write down your answers. You turn your boards, revealing similar responses of ‘we went to her dorm and made dinner together after one of her games.’

You glance at Paige and she sighs. “Don’t start,” she pleads. 

“I’m actually a little invested now,” Madelyn chirps, which makes you grin and makes Paige bury her head in her hands. 

“All I’ll say is that Paige shouldn’t be in the kitchen without supervision but I really admire her, um, willingness to get creative,” you say kindly. Your best friend pinches your thigh under the table and you jerk back, laughing. Not wanting to embarrass her in front of a stranger, you leave it at that, although you smile at Paige like you’re the only two at the table. “I had a good time, though. She made it memorable.” She smiles back at you, something tender that has your heart constricting. 

The both of you knew the truth, though. Paige was not a good cook. She doesn’t make terrible food — dinner was delicious, but Paige is chaotic and an actual hazard. Watching her chop an onion hurt something deep inside you although she’d seemed so proud of herself. You didn’t have the heart to make fun of her. 

“Five for five,” Madelyn says, drawing your attention back to her. “Next question for you. Who confessed to who?”

You and Paige lock eyes again, a silent conversation passing between the two of you, and you write down her name. You turn your boards, Paige’s name written on the both of them and you smile to yourself. “She was pretty oblivious,” Paige says, referring to you, and your smile falls as your jaw hits the ground. “I dropped so many hints and she just didn’t pick up on them. I eventually got tired—”

“Desperate,” you cut in. 

“Tired,” she emphasizes, smirking at you, “so I planned out this huge romantic thing and at the end, she still didn’t understand so I told her straight up.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe you’re just not as slick as you think,” you tell her. 

“Nah,” Paige says. “I’m super romantical.”

“Sure,” you concede. 

Madelyn stifles her smile. “Alright. Two more questions for both of you. Paige, what is your partner’s pet peeve?”

“If you get this wrong,” you grumble, hearing Paige snicker as the two of you write down your answers. After you flip your boards, she grins proudly when your answers line up. 

“She hates not being taken seriously,” Paige recites. “She’s an English major. People always think it’s just easy or unimportant shit, like reading and writing papers, but she actually does a lot of interesting analysis and stuff that I never even considered. I’ll admit I was a little ignorant but she set me straight.”

“Wait, I didn’t know you thought that,” you say, honestly confused. 

She shrugs, a little bashful. “I talk a lot but I listen. Sometimes when you leave the room, I’ll read your paper just so I can ask better questions. You get all… glowy. And… I’on know. I like seeing you happy.”

You blink once at her, genuinely touched, and if you weren’t head over heels for Paige before then you definitely are now. She squeezes your knee again, her smile crooked yet tender. Damn it. You are hopeless. 

“That’s so sweet.” You’re a little shocked by Madelyn’s voice, but you clear your throat, refocusing. “Next one for you. What’s Paige’s least favorite season?”

“That’s easy,” you say, writing your answer down. Paige does the same. When you flip your boards, you glance at Paige’s, smiling wryly. “Paige hates spring. She has really bad allergies and all of the pollen is honestly a death sentence, so she’ll get all congested and sneezy and will spend a good two weeks bitching about it and how it makes her Jeep dirty.”

You glance at Paige, waiting for her to say something, but she just shrugs with a smug expression. “Last question for Paige,” Madelyn says. “What is something your partner does to show her love for you?”

Neither of you say anything, but Paige stares at you thoughtfully, another silent conversation passing between you. You don’t need to think about your answer as you write it down. On cue, you both flip your boards, Paige’s reading simply, She takes care of me. You can’t help the way your heart swells, a fond smile overtaking your face. “Before you, I wasn’t really the… you know, the receiver, I guess. Always in control, always expected to lead. You make me feel like I can just be me, which is really hard sometimes.” Paige laughs off the vulnerability, but you see right through it – the painful honesty.

“We’re equals,” you remind her, nudging her leg with your knee. “We take care of each other.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, her voice soft as she gazes at you. “I’m glad that we do.”

You spot Madelyn out of the corner of your eye, which sobers you up quickly. She smiles. “You guys are so cute,” she gushes. “Final question for you and we’re done with this round. What is Paige’s love language?”

You feel Paige’s stare on you as you write, but you don’t glance back at her. You can hear the scribble of her marker, her capping it. When you’re finished, you finally look at her, taking in the soft expression on her face, and despite yourself, a smile grows on your face too. Together, you turn your boards, your answers being the exact same once more — quality time and physical touch. “Ten for ten, baby,” you croon, raising your hand for her to smack her palm against.

“Great job!” Madelyn says. “Let me just go submit these scores and I’ll be back to walk you guys through the puzzle round after eliminations. Sit tight.” She offers the two of you a quick grin before she’s walking off.

“Ten for ten,” Paige repeats, nudging you a little. “We’re like that?”

“I guess we’re actually kinda good at this friends thing,” you retort, although part of you wishes you were anything but.

Paige’s subsequent grin is far too knowing, like she has a trick up her sleeve. “Maybe a little.”

You laugh a little under your breath, adjusting your dress and leaning back in your chair to get comfortable. Before you know it, the scores are officially in. You and Paige had a perfect one, so you weren’t all too worried about getting eliminated in the first round, but five unlucky couples ended up leaving. The two of you watched from afar, trying not to stare too hard at the retreating couples, although they made it hard. One girl walked out crying, gesturing wildly as her partner trailed behind her, a desperate expression on her face. Another one was pure anger, slamming the door behind her. You didn’t think that this club contest would get people so riled up, but you considered that it was probably the realization that your partner truly didn’t know anything about you. You just lucked out with Paige – she understood you.

Madelyn returns quickly and cuts straight to the point. She instructs you and Paige to stand up, handing the both of you a towel, and adjusts your arms until you’re holding the towels perpendicular to each other, almost intertwined. “The goal here is to separate from each other, but it can be tricky because the towels will tangle you up. We’re looking to see how fast you can solve this puzzle and how well the two of you work together. Are you guys ready?” You and Paige nod and Madelyn grins again. “Alright. You can start.”

Instantly, the room around you two is sheer pandemonium. The couples around you are moving quickly, trying to untangle themselves, but it’s clear that the panic is settling in. You and Paige exchange a glance, laughing to each other softly. “Game plan?” she asks you.

“We need to get these like…not perpendicular,” you offer helpfully, and Paige nods, adjusting her arms. The angle change makes your towels bunch up and twist at their centers.

“Spin around,” she instructs. You do as so, the towels untwisting around the middle. You pause to analyze your situation, trying to plan out the moves in your head as Paige does the same.

“Okay, bring your towel over my head and let me step through it.” After that move, the both of you glance down, taking in your situation.

Paige hums. “The rest is easy,” she says. You nod in agreement, a silent understanding passing between the two of you and you move in tandem, twisting and shifting and stepping up until you’re both finally separating from each other in record time, having completed the puzzle. “We’re like that?” she asks you again, her expression smug and satisfied in a way that’s only comparable to when she’s on the court and her lips are curling after sinking a contested three point shot.

“Dream team,” you remind her, letting the victory wash over you, clapping your hand against hers, although she doesn’t immediately release you, squeezing your hand with a proud smile.

“I don’t think I’ve actually seen anyone solve it that quickly,” Madelyn admits. “Or that calmly.” As soon as she says it, a commotion from the other side of the room draws your attention. There’s one couple that are twisted so unnaturally that it looks like they’re playing Twister, but it seems that the girl gets tired of the shenanigans because she drops her towel and storms out with a frustrated yell. “Case in point.”

You laugh and Madelyn walks away again to tally the points and make their final eliminations. Once everything is set, five couples remain out of the initial fifteen. After the last challenge, two couples will be eliminated once more and the remaining three will be given prizes in order of points. You and Paige were determined to finish strong – if the first two challenges were any indicator, you two had this in the bag. True to Paige’s word, the couples were being split up for the last challenge, and she offers you a competitive smile as Madelyn whisks her away.

You pass the time on your phone although Paige isn’t gone for long. However, what does shock you is the sudden bashfulness that’s clear as day on her features, like the last challenge had made her confess something important or she had to be vulnerable. You can’t help the sudden worry that seizes your body, but Paige rests a hand on your hip, squeezing you once with a confident smile. It couldn’t be that bad.

Madelyn leads you into an adjacent room where the president of the club is sitting at a table waiting for you. She smiles when you enter, motioning to the seat across from her, and it feels strangely like entering the principal’s office in elementary school, like you’re in trouble for something. The club president doesn’t spare any time for pleasantries and instead cuts right to the chase, something that you’re grateful for.

“I’m not gonna take up anymore of your time, but after seeing you and your partner perform so well in this contest, I only have two questions for you,” she explains. “This is our second year running this contest and no one has scored as high as you two have, which is kind of insane because the third round scores haven’t been added yet.” You smile politely, honestly unsure of what to say, but the club president continues. “How long have the two of you been together?”

“Going on three months,” you respond, thinking back to the timeline you and Paige had agreed on, hoping your voice doesn’t shake. You are a little surprised by how real your next words feel. “We were best friends for a really long time before then – we still are. Paige is just…that kind of person that makes you feel like you’ve spent forever with her, you know?”

The club president hums, agreeing. She pauses before glancing up at you, studying your features. “What’s something that you haven’t told your girlfriend, but you would want her to know?”

You hardly need the time to think about your answer, responding, “That I love her.” The club president’s expression softens, a smile growing on her face. “We haven’t, um, gotten there yet, but I mean it. I wanna make it perfect for her. She’s given so much to me in the short time we’ve been together and in the time we were friends. And she just…she means everything to me.”

She smiles. “I think you guys are perfect for each other.”

Despite yourself, you smile, a blush spreading across your cheeks. “I think so, too.”

After your solo questioning wraps up, you meet Paige at your table and you offer her a bashful grin, similar to the one she’d offered you when she returned. You don’t have the chance to say anything else to her as the final round of eliminations are being announced. You and Paige are spared, which doesn’t surprise you, and the two eliminated couples take their loss with dignity as they exit. Paige links her hand with yours – final three. In third place, Team Parker. In second…Team Hayes, which means that first place can only be –

“Team Bueckers.”

You and Paige relax immediately, high fiving each other in celebration. What you’re not fully expecting is the tight hug that Paige pulls you into, whispering a fond good job into your ear, although you can’t help the way you soften, sinking into her embrace. She leads you to the center of the room to collect your goodie basket. The various club members send you off with their congratulations, too, and you pretend to not notice the slick wink that Madelyn shoots you as you and Paige walk out.

The night air is cool, making you shiver slightly, and Paige doesn’t hesitate before she’s sliding off her blazer and settling it over your shoulders. You smile gently at her. “You won’t be cold?” you murmur.

“Nah,” she promises, nudging you. “I can handle it. You, though? I’on know.”

“That’s no way to treat someone who just won you these spa coupons,” you say, reaching into the gift basket to wave said coupons in the air. “C’mon, I clutched up, you can’t lie. And to think you wouldn’t have even had a partner for this if you didn’t rope me into it. I think we played our parts pretty well.”

Paige laughs gently, a tinkling sound that carries over the drag of the wind. “You still don’t get it, do you?” she asks, but there’s no true offense behind her words.

You stare at her in confusion. “Get what?” you respond.

“Do you remember that question Madelyn asked you earlier?” Paige says, her steps slowing, tilting her head down to look at you. The street lights reflect off of her face so beautifully, the blue of her eyes illuminated by the soft light. You can’t help the way your heart constricts at the sight. “‘Who confessed to who?’” You hum, urging her to go on. “You remember what I said? That you were oblivious and I dropped a lot of hints you didn’t pick up on?”

The gears in your brain spin for a few revolutions before everything clicks into place. “Oh my God,” you breathe out. “Are you–”

“Confessing?” she says, her lips quirking into a smile. “Yeah.”

“You dropped hints before?”

“So many,” she confirms.

“Oh my God,” you say again. You stop in your tracks, prompting her to do the same. The expression on her face is endlessly amused. “You planned a huge romantic thing – this?”

She shrugs. “The contest was the club’s shit, but yeah. I planned on asking you to come with me to this. I didn’t actually care about the prize, but the coupons are pretty sweet, right?”

You shake your head, ignoring her rambling. “You planned a huge romantic thing, but I still didn’t get it at the end, so you told me straight up,” you finish, partly in disbelief. “You think you’re so fucking slick, don’t you?” you accuse, which just makes her break out into laughter. “You literally sat next to me and told me exactly how you were going to ask me out and I didn’t know? And not only did you do that, but you were right about it?”

“I know you,” Paige says a little smugly. “And I told you that I could be romantical.”

“You are such a pain in my ass,” you whisper, but her arm is slinking around your waist, pulling you into her body as she grins insufferably, and you let yourself be pulled, your hands resting on her chest. “You are literally so annoying.”

Her nose brushes yours as she inches a little closer. “You know what they asked me in the final round?” she says, her voice loud enough for only you to hear. You nod. “They said, ‘What’s something you haven’t told your partner, but you’d like to?’”

“Funny,” you say. “They asked me the same thing.”

She smiles at you. “I told them I’d tell you that I love you,” she confesses.

Your cheeks burn as you register her words. “Funny,” you say again. “I told them the same thing.”

Her expression shifts, something like relief flashing in her eyes, something tender in her gaze. “Did you?”

“Well, I told them that’s what I would tell my girlfriend,” you trail off intentionally. “Seeing as I don’t currently have one of those…”

“Don’t play,” Paige murmurs, squeezing your hip gently, drawing a laugh from you. “Be mine?”

“You gonna share those coupons?”

Her eyes are bright when she responds. “I’on even care about them. Just want you.”

“You’ve got me.”

That promise is all she needs. She smiles at you, happiness in her features, and she doesn’t waste any time before she’s leaning in fully, her lips finding yours. You’re eagerly responding, melting into her as her arm tightens around your waist. You loop yours around her neck, standing on the tips of the toes for better leverage. Before you know it, her grin grows too wide and the two of you are laughing against each other’s lips, the sound of your love and giddiness the perfect way to end a perfect night. If you had Paige Bueckers and her annoyingly charming antics to look forward to, then one thing is for certain – you couldn’t wait to see what she had in store for Valentine’s Day next year.

[joe-willow]

Why are people even writting with ai this is, this is like one of the most stupid thing ever. first of all, this isn't writting at all, this is just lazyness, and moreover disrespect to the art, whether We're writting à fanfiction or à book.

My philosophy teacher made me realize à lot of things about books/writting in general. My second thing is that writting is a Journey, yeah, even if you're writting some bl, romance or whatever, you will put your LIFE into that shit because it UOUR story it comes from your mind and you want it to be real to ksjmsbmsvl come to life to express yourself your idea you you your thing hour vision idk, and even if in the end you hate what you made you put in this increible efforts to make your textile sense and who knows, maybe someone will like it, or not, whatever, you made it you went through it. You did it you're done it you should be proud so I agree, people using ai to writte thing are WEAK. And for writting fanfics ?????? This is even worse. Yall using ai for this don't even know what are fanfics that's crazy

And lastly, unpopular opinion apparently, considering my classmates opinion on using ai, using ai for homework is STUPID. Like why would you do this. I understand that you can hate working for school/teachers and homework but like. Why. This is stupid. Just use your mind, you can come up with insane things yk. Just take some time I swear

And yeah some of you will tell me "oh but I had no time" YEAH FR ME TOO how many times do you think i gave homworks late ? Or not a all ? A LIT OF TIMES. yall need to assume that you didn't do your work and if you didn't have the tume, like, its ok ?????? I mean bro No need to use ai try something even if you only have one 1h left for an essay ig that giving your teacher something made by YOU even if It's hella rushes is better than using ai that will write the most boring shit ever + no sources + you just dont want to think + like oh my god yeah thinking is gonna hurt you + being able to think is literally what defines a human being

anyway, all this to say that ai SUCKS and isn't. And will never. Be a tool. Or a from of art. My ART TEACHER told me one day that I should try to use ai for my works as a tool. Do you understand to what we've cone to. What the hell is wrong with her. Does she consider art as something commercial or that must be done ? Art is you. It's none of the others business. ART IS YOU and I do not mean that you are art. And I don't think we can consider everything we create as art. You're not art. It's you will of creating something that expresses you, in any kind of way possible of what this could mean that will define your creations as art. Art is expressing. ai comes up with the most fifting things for your words, that's all. Ai can't do art. What it does is not art it's not a tool it's pure shit

If I went further, I'd say that no one is an artist (yeah even the people we consider as artists) and that at the same time evryone could possibly be an artist. Artist is not a job its not supposed to bring you money I'm losing my words and I'm really going off topic i already was off topic so much oh my god. Also random thought but art has no tools

Im maybe exaggerating a little bit. But ai sucks anyway. That's all.

no way ppl are using ai to write ao3. what happened to being a tortured writer. what happened to blood on the page. what happened to the ao3 curse. people used to get run over, have their houses burned down, break their entire spines and they still put in the work to finish a chapter. fuck you, using ai. y’all are weak