#the way the groups have been set up with each other is looking so terrible for the overall story

[deargravity]

paralive has been kind of pissing me off recently but let me not linger on that lmfao i will muscle through this for visty lore

[chobunz]

── “ get to the car, we’re leaving ” ( lhs ) 🥃

๑ In which Heeseung doesn’t take it lightly to you getting too close to one of the frat guys at a college party…

pair: jock!heeseung ㅊ thick gf!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, angst ??, fluff, mentions of drinking & smoking (weed), jealousy, upset heeseung but also soft, argument, hee almost fucks things up (relationship wise) + hot makeup s.x, spanking, shaking, fingering, oral (f. rec), piv, creampie | words: 2.6k

decided to make another jock!hee fic bc the first one i made got rlly popular ! i wanted to showcase more of what goes on in their lives and relationship lol, enjoyyy <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you were chosen as tonight’s designated driver, per usual. one of your roommates invited you to her senior’s after exams party and of course you had to bring your significant other along with you for protection. though you weren’t planning on doing anything crazy, there was no way in hell heeseung wasn’t getting high tonight; plus with all the heavy drinks jay managed to sneak into his dorm, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gotten drunk either.

“jake, it’s your go !” heeseung slurs a bit, sipping from his red solo cup. “shit, my bad, it’s my win anyway.” jake places his play in a set of three on the table, a sly smirk fixed on his features, flexing his cockiness.

“oh, fuck you..” heeseung spits, dramatically tossing his cards onto the table, earning a light chuckle from you.

“where are you going ?” you watched as his body elevated from his last position.

“out of drink.” he pouts, ruffling his hand through your hair. “you coming with ?” his hand lifts yours in a way to pull you upwards.

“no.. don’ feel like it,” you gave him a soft smile, tapping his waist. “but make it quick !”

with that his slim body conjured into the kitchen, where a small bar had been made. everyone else who’d been playing terrible plays of poker kingdom were either now making out, drinking, smoking, or just left in general. yet here you are, bored out of your mind and couldn’t drink at all, pulling out your phone as you waited patiently for your boyfriend to come back.

it’s been 20 minutes… what could possibly be taking so long? that’s all that ran over your mind before you actually got up to go find him yourself. you feel like you need a leash on that boy sometimes.. scanning each crowd, different colonies of people in groups, some even scattered. that’s when your eyes landed on a familiar figure— jay, but this time he seemed free.

๑ ๑ ๑

“i really do have a girlfriend,” heeseung said loud enough for the random girl to hear over the blaring music.

“oh, trust me i wouldn’t take a guy as handsome as you to not be taken,” she spoke, “but it doesn’t seem like she’s here right now.”

he’s now come to realize that it had been awhile since he were waiting on his drink, and started to scan the area looking for you. you were with jay, a kind but natural flirt, hell, owner of this party. you asked him to help you look around for your boyfriend, since you were growing concerned. and he did so, checking everywhere even all the rooms.. once heeseung’s eyes bounced to your figure, he was visibly upset at what he saw.

“yeah no, fuck outta here” he scoffs, the drink became completely irrelevant to him now and ditched the annoying girl. you could be fucking around with his close friend as of now and that thought alone sobered him up to a peak. why the hell are they going into a room, at a party..? he knew his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him and he may be a little drunk/high but he’s not stupid. he wanted to come up with a logical reason but he couldn’t, that’s all he could think as he stepped closer and closer to the door you and jay hid behind.

you both had vanished from the hallway of doors before he’d even gotten there, opting to check the bar instead, only to find the perky girl who’d talked to him before. heeseung was so confused, but it didn’t stop him from rummaging from room to room. only making him angrier that you weren’t in any of them, and neither was jay. his hand dove into the back pocket of his jeans to ring your number. when you answered, his voice immediately aired through the speaker.

“y/n, where the hell are you ?! ” he drunkenly grumbles. you only laugh, you couldn’t help yourself. “hello ? .. ” you laughed again.

when you began to worry about heeseung being intoxicated and wandering around a party full of girls the panic settled in quickly. so, jay being the gentleman nobody thinks he is, tries to ease your mind with jokes to cheer you up as you kept looking around. that being while you were still on the phone, struggling to answer. “hello?..”

“y/n, can you hear me ??” he says for the millionth time already, voice laced with aggravated undertones.

“hello ? who is this ??” you hadn’t checked the caller id and you were far too occupied with finding heeseung. the music was far too loud and as you couldn’t hear any responses, you just hung up.

“what the actual fuck…” heeseung was more pissed off than confused, he couldn’t believe you’d just hang up on him like that. were his suspicions actually true ??

๑ ๑ ๑

“wanna try the balcony next ?” jay suggests as he’s slowly running out of options of where he could be, he knew he had to be in this house somewhere— heeseung would never just up and leave without you.

“sure!” you nod, following behind him as he lead you outside.

meanwhile, heeseung’s driving himself to a new level of insanity from not being able to find you. he thinks of anywhere else you could’ve run to and the last and only place he hadn’t checked yet— the balcony. he could only hope you were out there or he’s going to be worried sick. his fingers curl around the handle of the sliding door opening it to a surprised jay, and an even more shocked, you. both of your eyes darting to heeseung as soon as his figure leaned into frame.

“get the fuck up.” heeseung’s eyes glared at your being in utter annoyance.

“hee, i was looking for you!” you followed as he said, capturing his arms in yours only to your surprise he’d let go.

“jay, do you mind ?” the extra had gotten the message quickly and he just headed back inside to his packed habitat.

“where did you go baby, i couldn’t find you..” you say, looking into his eyes in honesty noticing the atmospheres gotten heavy.

“where did i go?? y/n, where did YOU go ?!” his figure shifts, staring at you in utter disgust. his mind was taking him to all kinds of places, places he never wanted to see, think, or hear of.

“to look for you? i said that already.” your brows furrowed.

“hmm, that's crazy cause i was doing the same thing.” he wanted to cut to the chase. “couldn’t find me so you just wandered off with jay ?? huh?”

“what ?? is that how low you think of me ? heeseung ??” your hands reach your hips. you can’t help but be offended. your boyfriend thought you were jacking off with his friend of all people. you had a reason to be.

“i mean it’s what it looked like !” he crosses his arms across his chest as he gritted through his teeth. “knew you shouldn’t have worn this outfit, it’s too revealing, bet you were the talk of the whole night..”

“wow,” you scoff, your body now facing another direction. you couldn’t believe him right now, first he accuses you of being with jay and now he’s acting insecure all because you wanted to wear a cute skirt. you don’t wear those quite often so it took a lot of courage for you to, but now you’re just second guessing everything.

“i’m talking to you, y/n. look at me.” you were flabbergasted, talk to him ?? what about how he openly admits you would cheat on him, or how he’s criticizing you for simply wearing something out of your comfort zone.

“well, i’m done talking.”

“fine, get to the car. we’re leaving.” you completely ignored him but had done as he said. he was fully sober by now, you were sure. he followed you not so long after storming out of the front door and once in the car, he slammed the door behind him.

๑ ๑ ๑

the drive from jay’s place was filled with a weird tension in the air, you noticed heeseung giving you glances from time to time checking up on you, but you weren’t to budge until he apologized to you. he thought you were for the team, when he knows you’re his, and only his. the car pauses once in the alignment of your driveway. to your dismay, you hear the doors locking while you’re still inside.

“let me out, hee.” you sigh heavily, gripping on the door handle.

“babe, can we talk first..” you couldn’t believe it, he wants to talk to you ?? really ?? the ‘friend fucker??’ how funny, you glare at him.

“what heeseung, i’m really tired.” you avert your gaze into the window.

“i’m sorry, i-” you cut him off. “you’re sorry ?! wow ?? when you should have been earlier ?? where was this apology earlier heeseung, when you actually hurt me.” your voice raised a notch.

“you know it was the heat of the moment, what’d you want me to think?? ‘oh she’s definitely not with the flirtiest guy on campus, yeah he totally doesn’t wanna fuck my hot girlfriend’.” he mocked a slight pitch change in his voice.

your mouth gaped. “are you really sorry or do you just wanna sleep next to me ??” you asked, you knew he couldn’t sleep alone, he needed you by his side.

“how about both. you know i mean it y/n. you’re just upset.” he plays with the steering wheel.

“dont tell me what i am, now let me out.” you grimace.

he clearly got upset by this, “you aren’t even trying to ease up the problem here ! and then later on you know you’re gonna pin everything on me. knowing damn well i tried fixing things.” he wavered his hands in the air as he spoke, he was kinda right yet you just didn’t like the way he was going about it. yes, he is trying to apologize, but you couldn’t help but still be mad.

“i get that, thanks for your apology.. but i don’t like how you spoke to me earlier.” your eyes fixate on his own. you felt the air tighten, you always did. there was genuine remorse in his eyes, you felt it.

hell, your man had the prettiest face you’d ever seen. and hell, he looked so sexy when he’s mad, and especially now, when he’s sorry. you simply wanted to tear him apart. his hand reaches yours and as he got the chance he wanted to show you how sorry he truly was. the softness of his lips caressed yours. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t wet right now. how couldn’t you be…

๑ ๑ ๑

“mm.. hee ..” you whined as the weight of his lips on yours lightened.

“i don’ wanna apologize to you in here,” he finally unlocked the doors. “get your pretty ass upstairs.”

his eyes traced your body, longing towards the way your pretty thighs look.. then gazing up at your ass as you complied, leaving your skirt riding up it’s soft exterior. an immediate tent grew in his pants. the one thing he loved most about you body wise, had to be your ass. it molded into his hands just perfectly. and it replied to any friction he applied to it on command. he loved how red and bruised it got once his hands launched across it’s surface. and how he’d sometimes be able to see his own handprints. you were the sexiest woman he’s ever laid his eyes on.

๑ ๑ ๑

“nggh, hee.. yes, please..” you drool out at the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he pounded against you. “fuck me baby, fuck me!” you yelp when you feel his nails gripping into your waist.

“you want it baby, huh, you want it so deep in you don’t you, huh ???” his lips caressed your neck as he grabs onto your leg to inch himself more into you.

“you’re close? mhm, you like how i fuck you sloppy? such a dirty slut for me ..” he chuckled as he felt you clench around his length at his dirty words. “open your mouth. when i speak to you” his fingers lazily run circles around your clit.

you couldn’t mutter a single word, he’d fucked you completely dumb, your orgasm swelled up so deep inside you. you felt like you could puke but you didn’t want it to stop. you never wanted it to end.

“hah.. shit baby, ‘m gonna cum..” your nails grip his forearms, your arms pushing your boobs together caging them in.

he groaned at the beautiful sight below him, leaning down onto your nakedness caressing one of your nipples with his tongue. your stomach tingled, by the time you knew it your orgasm peaked, leaving his cock all messy of your juices. you whined as he pulls out, looking down at your folds and spreading them before grazing his mouth over your heat, flicking his tongue on your already overly sensitive bud. you could cry right in this moment from just how heavenly your boyfriend was making you feel. you held onto him for dear life as he buried his face between your plush thighs, the lewd sounds filling the room as he drank you.

“turn over.” he demands once coming back up for air again, you obey straight away, laying onto your stomach, letting out heavy breaths as your body ached.

heeseung lifted your hips, putting you on all fours.

“can you take some more for me baby? ‘m close..” he puckers kisses all over your ass and waist, heeseung hadn’t came yet. he kinda has this weird game in his head where he tries to see how long he can last until he physically just can’t take it anymore. it’s oddly satisfying in the end because not only does he cum so much more but he gets to fuck you even longer, it’s a win win in his book !

“mhm.. more baby !” you respond quickly, you were greedy as fuck for his cock and he loved that you were just as horny as him.

with that, he were thrusting like no tomorrow into your tight cunt. a loud slap to your ass comes with full force, barely giving you any time to react. your body jerks forward, jaw locked in place as you grab onto the sheets to keep you stable. your head was empty, no thoughts other than how good heeseung was fucking you like his life depends on it.

“pussy made just for me, you feel so good baby. you love milking my cock, don’t you?” his moaning reached another level of loud. it was so sexy..

“all yours baby, please come in me ! fill me up hee !!” he pulled out before thrashing back in, noticing the white ring around his dick changing sizes everytime his length swipes through your core.

“that’s right, yeah baby, where do you want it ??” his pace quickens, you can barely catch your breath. you felt your high returning, his high approaching quicker as you clench around him, once more.

“inside ! oh please inside me !!” you turn your head towards him giving him a pleading look, a look that stroked his ego a little too much. you felt his jizz filling you up and leaking from your open as he slid himself from you.

“baby!.. i’m not done..” you pouted.

“i know, i know. don’t worry princess.” you felt two of his digits thrusting into you, biting your lip as he made your back arch in surprise.

your hand grips the sheets of the bed even tighter as the other played over your thirsty clit. and with just a curl, you bursted. whines filling the room, your body collapsing and a shaky sigh leaving your body as you rub your legs together to stop the throb, your lover felt accomplished with the result.

“shaking orgasm.” he chuckled, his fingers traced lines along the slope of your waist and his lips finding place on yours.

what an apology. you felt lush. (つω`｡)

THNX FOR 450+ FOLLOWERS YA’LL WTF, it’s only been like 2 weeks on this acc :’)) i appreciate all of u for reading my content hehe ♡︎

[lupinqs]

paige x reader request!! okay so reader has never dated before (she’s always focused on school and boys around her never seem to “meet up” to her standards….right lol) when she gets to college she meets p and they become really close. they end up falling for each other but reader is conflicted bc she has thought she’s been straight but looking back all the signs were there. she’s never wanted to have sex before (men are scary) but she wants to with p, she trusts her. this could be p talking reader through this realization and/or smut (p being really sweet w her bc it’s her first time yk)!! thank you!!

FIRST TIME ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: your first time is with paige

☆ ━ word count: 5.3K

☆ ━ warnings: smut with plot (honestly just p eating r out)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: my gift to everyone after that hellish lottery… fuck dallas bro 😐😐 also this is not my best work this month has been fucking terrible so my bad

FOR YOU, it’s always been school. School, school, school. By seventh grade, you already knew you wanted to go into medicine. Your parents both work in the field—your mom at the hospital, your dad in his private practice. You grew up hearing their stories over dinner, listening to the ups and downs of their days, feeling that pull towards something important, something that could make a difference. The way they talked about their work, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself there, following in their footsteps.

So, you worked. Hard. From the moment you set your sights on medicine, there was no looking back. High school flew by in a steady cycle of textbooks, flashcards, volunteer shifts, and internships, each one a piece of the puzzle you were putting together. You spent weekends shadowing doctors, hours in study groups, a summer interning at the local hospital where you first learned what a real emergency room felt like. Even then, nothing could shake you from the goal you’d carved out for yourself. You’d known from the start where you wanted to end up: Yale. As a Connecticut native, it felt like a given. You saw yourself there so clearly that the idea of not getting in didn’t even occur to you.

Until it did. And when the rejection letter came, it was like the ground had fallen out beneath you. There was shock, disappointment, embarrassment. You’d done everything right—how had that not been enough? But still, UConn is a good college, and the goal is med school anyway. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter where you get your undergraduate degree, that you’ll just work even harder this time. When it comes to med school applications, there won’t be any mistakes, no missed chances. You won’t let it happen again—you will be going to Yale.

The thing is, school’s been your everything for so long that you don’t have much of a life outside of it. You had a first kiss once, an awkward moment with a boy who you never talked to again. But after that, there hasn’t been anything more. You’ve always been busy, and to be honest, there’s never been anyone who made you want to carve out time. Every relationship around you seemed like a distraction, a place for people to get hurt or get sidetracked, neither of which were part of your plan. Your friends like to tease you about it, saying your standards are too high, that no one will ever live up to the expectations you’ve set. And maybe that was true. Maybe that’s what it is. The boys just don’t meet your standards. You accept that, not caring to pay any mind to them (though they certainly paid mind to you), continuing to stay focused.

But at UConn, things start to feel different. College is strange that way—there’s structure, but there’s also space, a little more breathing room. It’s not like high school, where everyone knew what you were doing all the time, where your schedule was mapped out. Here, people let loose, go out, drink, stay up until all hours for no reason at all. You do it, too, and you realize it’s fun. But you never let it go further, never bother to get any sort of romance or even hook-ups involved in your life—because you’re still who you are. Your studies come first, always. You continuously remind yourself of that. Med school is the goal, and you work towards it every day.

Besides, you’re not even really interested in dating or anything of the sort.

That is, until you meet a certain blonde-haired basketball player.

It happens during the second semester of your freshman year, in a class you’re only taking for the credit. You barely even remember signing up for it—some easy elective with minimal workload to round out your schedule. You don’t care about the subject, don’t even plan on giving it much effort beyond the occasional assignment because you know it’ll be easy anyways. But then she walks in.

Paige Bueckers. You’ve heard the name before, of course. Everyone has. She’s the sophomore basketball phenom, the face of UConn athletics, practically a celebrity on campus. You’ve never paid her much attention—basketball isn’t really your thing—but the buzz around her is impossible to ignore. Still, when she strolls into the classroom, disheveled and running a little late, it takes you a moment to connect the dots. Her hair’s thrown into a low bun, messy strands framing her face. She’s in a gray UConn sweatsuit, the hem of her hoodie slightly frayed, her glasses sitting casually on the bridge of her nose. She scans the room, sees that the only open seat is next to you, and slides into it without hesitation.

“Hey,” she says, flashing you a quick smile before dropping her bag on the floor.

And that’s it. Nothing monumental. Just a simple greeting. But there’s something about her—her presence, the casual ease with which she takes up space—that immediately hooks your attention.

At first, you try to keep your head down. She’s just another classmate, someone you’ll probably never see again once the semester’s over. But Paige doesn’t make it easy to ignore her. She leans over to you during class, whispering comments about the lecture or the professor’s awkward hand gestures. She’s funny—unexpectedly so—and you catch yourself smiling at her jokes even when you try not to.

You notice other things, too. Like the sharp line of her jaw, the way her broad shoulders stretch the fabric of her sweatshirt, the subtle curve of muscle beneath her long sleeves. She’s not the type of traditional feminine pretty that you’d expect, not delicate or polished. No makeup, no carefully curated outfits. But there’s something about her—an almost sculptural beauty, like she’s been chiseled from marble by a particularly ambitious artist. It’s distracting. And you don’t get distracted easily.

When your friends convince you to go to your first basketball game of the season, you tell yourself it’s just for the experience. A chance to break out of your usual routine. But then you see her on the court. And suddenly, everything makes sense. Paige doesn’t just play basketball; she owns it. She’s gorgeous out there, all fire and intensity, her movements fluid and commanding. You find yourself watching her more than the game, mesmerized by the way she moves, just her presence in general.

After that, you start looking forward to class in a way you never have before. It’s not the subject, obviously. It’s Paige. The way she smiles at you when she walks in, the way she leans over to whisper something ridiculous during a particularly boring lecture. She’s the best part of your day, and you don’t even try to deny it.

When the two of you get paired up for a group project, it feels like fate. You go to her apartment to work on it, expecting the same easy banter from class, but it’s more than that. The two of you get off track almost immediately, laughing over something stupid, and before you know it, hours have passed and you’ve barely made any progress. You end up staying way later than planned, both of you scrambling to get back on task before you have to call it a night. By the time you leave, you’ve swapped numbers, and from then on, the texts come easily.

It starts with class updates, but soon it’s more. Late night conversations that have nothing to do with school, Facetimes, too. Hanging out becomes natural: grabbing frozen yogurt, wandering around campus, studying together even when you don’t need to. You talk and talk and talk, and somehow, it’s never boring. Paige has this way of making everything feel lighter, like the weight you usually carry around doesn’t exist when you’re with her.

One night, after one of your froyo runs, you’re sitting in her car. The frozen yogurt is long gone, but neither of you seems ready to say goodbye. The conversation slows, dipping into a comfortable silence. You glance at her, and she’s already looking at you. There’s a shift in the air, something unspoken passing between you. And then, suddenly, she’s kissing you.

You freeze. Not because you don’t want it, but because it’s so unexpected. Your brain can’t catch up with what’s happening, and for a moment, you’re completely still. Paige pulls back almost immediately, her face flushing as she stumbles through an apology. “I’m sorry—I thought—God, I must’ve read that wrong. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, shaking your head as you finally find your voice. “I didn’t mind.”

Her eyes search yours, uncertain, and then the silence settles again. Before you can second-guess yourself, you lean back in. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. Her hand cups your jaw, warm and steady, while your fingers find their way to her arm, brushing over the solid muscle of her bicep. The center console is a nuisance, forcing you both into awkward angles, but you don’t care. It’s all soft lips and quiet breaths, a perfect mix of hunger and gentleness.

When she finally pulls away, she drives you back to your dorm, her voice soft as she says, “I had a good time tonight.”

You manage a quiet “Me too,” before slipping out of the car.

Back in your dorm, your roommate is asleep, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, your heart still racing. You just kissed Paige Bueckers. A girl. And you liked it. More than liked it—you want to do it again.

The realization hits you like a freight train. You’ve never thought about girls like that before, never let your mind wander there. You always assumed you were straight, just too busy or too picky to find the right guy. But now, as you think about Paige, about her hands on your face, her lips against yours, it all starts to make sense. You never wanted boys. Not really. That kiss in high school with that random guy had felt wrong, awkward. The idea of being with a man had never appealed to you—except for maybe Drew Starkey, but even that felt more like a joke than anything real.

But this? The thought of Paige, of her smile, her laugh, the way she made you feel like you were the only person in the room—that feels real. And it’s terrifying.

Because now you know two things for sure:

You’re gay.

And you really, really like Paige Bueckers.

And it turns out that she really likes you, too.

Because that first kiss turns into another kiss. And another. And now, every time you’re alone together, it happens like clockwork.

The two of you have started hanging out in your rooms more often, the need for privacy overtaking any desire to sit in common areas or go out. Paige’s teammates joke that the two of you have become “homebodies,” but they don’t know the half of it. They don’t know how, as soon as the door closes, her lips find yours, soft and insistent, her hands framing your face as if you’re the most delicate thing she’s ever touched.

You’re not dating—at least, not officially. You haven’t talked about it, haven’t dared to address what’s happening between you. It’s easier this way, or so you tell yourself. But a part of you wonders why Paige doesn’t bring it up. Why she hasn’t said anything about what this is or what it could be. And that bothers you, even if you try to push it to the back of your mind. Then again, you’ve never done relationships, so maybe this in between is for the better—at least, for now.

Tonight, her teammates have gone to Ted’s. Paige had asked if you wanted to go, but when you wrinkled your nose and said, “Not really,” she grinned and said, “Me neither.” So, here you are, alone in her dorm room, a movie playing on the small TV mounted to the wall. Neither of you are watching it.

You’re lying on her bed, her weight hovering above you, and there’s no space, no breath between the two of you. Her lips are on yours, insistent and hungry, her body pressing against yours as if she can’t get close enough. There’s an urgency in her kiss tonight, a need that you can feel deep in your chest. You kiss her back with equal fervor, your hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, trying to anchor yourself to her.

Her hands are on your hips, her fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp against her mouth. You feel her smile against your lips at the sound and it makes you smile, too.

And, for the first time, you find yourself wanting more. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, your nerves alight with a buzzing energy that you don’t fully understand but don’t want to lose. Paige seems to sense it too because her hands slide up your sides, her thumbs tracing slow, deliberate lines against your skin.

Her lips leave yours, trailing along your jaw, down to your neck. The kisses are messy and open-mouthed, her breath hot and ragged against your skin. When her hands slip under your shirt, tracing over your stomach, you shiver.

“Can I take it off?” she asks, her voice soft but tinged with want.

You hesitate for a moment before nodding, lifting your arms to help her pull the shirt over your head. It’s gone in an instant, and you’re left in just your bra. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver again, but it’s nothing compared to the way Paige looks at you.

Her eyes roam over you, but not in a way that makes you feel objectified. It’s more like she’s in awe, like she can’t believe you’re here with her, like she can’t believe she gets to see you like this. It’s overwhelming.

You look away, suddenly self-conscious. It’s nerve-wracking, you’ve never done this before, and you know that Paige has. But Paige also knows that you haven’t, which you suppose makes things easier. You feel her fingers catch your chin, gently turning your head back to face her. Her touch is so tender it nearly makes you cry.

“If you wanna stop, tell me,” she says, her blue eyes locked onto yours, her voice steady and sincere.

You shake your head, your heart pounding. “I don’t wanna stop,” you say quickly, and then, after a pause, you add, your face flushing slightly with embarrassment, “I’m just a little nervous.”

She smiles softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Her hands move to your ribs, tracing slow, soothing lines along your skin. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You don’t gotta be. I’m right here.”

Her words settle something inside you, easing the tension in your chest. You nod, and she kisses you again, her lips slow and deliberate against yours. The urgency from earlier is still there, but now it’s tempered by something softer, something deeper. You want her closer, impossibly closer.

Her hands slide up your sides once more, stopping just below your chest, and the anticipation alone makes your breath catch. When her palms finally cup your breasts through your bra, her touch is firm yet reverent, and the sensation makes you gasp against her mouth. Your breathing deepens, your chest rising and falling under her hands.

It’s instinctual, the way your hands move to her waist, your fingers slipping underneath the hem of her long-sleeve shirt. Her skin is warm beneath your touch, and you can feel the subtle definition of her abs as your hands explore, your palms smoothing over her sides.

Paige groans softly into your mouth, her body pressing harder against yours as if she’s trying to fuse you together. Then she pulls away just enough to tug her long-sleeve shirt over her head in one fluid motion, tossing it carelessly across the room. The moment it’s gone, she’s back, her lips finding yours again, more insistent than ever.

She’s in just her sports bra now, and you can’t help but let your fingers trail along the edges of it, brushing against the smooth fabric and the warm skin beneath. Paige shivers under your touch, and the knowledge that you’re affecting her this much makes your heart race even faster.

Then you feel her hands move behind your back, her fingers toying with the clasp of your bra. She hesitates, her lips hovering over yours as if she’s waiting for your permission.

You pull back just slightly, your lips still brushing hers as you murmur, “Take it off.”

Her eyes flicker with something intense, something almost vulnerable, as she nods. She unclasps your bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps down your shoulders before pulling it away completely. For a moment, she doesn’t move, her gaze dropping to your bare chest. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, and when she finally speaks, her voice is low and husky.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” she mutters, her eyes locking with yours for a heartbeat before her lips are on yours again, desperate and consuming.

Her hands return to your breasts, cupping and kneading them in a way that makes your head fall back against the pillows. A quiet whimper escapes your throat, and Paige groans in response, the sound vibrating against your lips.

Her mouth begins to wander, leaving your lips to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, then lower to your neck. She lingers there, her teeth grazing your skin before she soothes the slight sting with her tongue. Each kiss feels deliberate, like she’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you react to her touch.

She moves lower, her lips brushing along your collarbone, her breath warm and uneven against your skin. Her hands continue their slow, deliberate exploration of your chest, her thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that makes your breath hitch.

Her lips trace the edges of your breasts, teasing and deliberate, and it’s almost too much. Your fingers tighten their hold on her sides, your nails digging slightly into her skin as you try to ground yourself.

Paige’s lips move with an unrelenting intensity, open-mouthed kisses peppered across your chest as though she’s determined to worship every inch of you. When her mouth closes over one of your nipples, the heat and pressure of her tongue send a jolt through your body, and you swallow hard, trying to keep yourself steady. The sensation is new, overwhelming in the best way, and you feel a steady, growing thrum between your legs that you can’t ignore.

She doesn’t rush, her lips and tongue moving with precision, her hands anchoring you to the bed as if she doesn’t want you to float away. Her mouth trails from one breast to the other, lavishing attention in a way that makes your breath hitch and your fingers curl into the sheets.

“Paige,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, your chest rising and falling heavily as her lips continue their descent.

She hums softly against your skin, a sound that vibrates through you as her mouth moves lower. She lingers over your stomach, her lips and tongue leaving a warm, wet trail across your skin. When she sucks on a spot just below your navel, you know she’s leaving a mark, but you don’t care. The sensation is intoxicating, her gentle pressure grounding you as your thoughts scatter into nothing but her touch, her presence.

Then, her hands move to the waistband of your sweatpants, pausing just above your hips. Her fingers don’t tug or pull, just hover there, her thumbs brushing lightly against your skin. You glance down at her, heart pounding in your chest, only to find her already looking up at you.

Her eyes are soft, full of a question she hasn’t yet asked, though there’s no mistaking the want clouding her gaze. When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet, careful, “Do you want me to?”

You swallow thickly, your throat dry. Do you want her to? God, yes. It’s not even a question. You don’t just want her—you think you might need her in this moment, need her to fix that ache that’s been building between your legs since she first kissed you tonight.

But it’s scary. Already, you’ve never been this exposed with anyone before, and this—this is something else entirely. A deeper kind of intimacy, one you thought you’d be ready for but now realize the weight of. Whenever you pictured what your first time might be like, you never really thought it would be too important, but now, here, with Paige above you, it feels monumental.

But who else would it be, if not her? Paige, who makes you feel safe, wanted, adored. You trust her in a way you’ve never trusted anyone. She’s kind, patient, and you like her so much it almost hurts. It only makes sense for it to be her. Even if it’s scary. Even if the thought creeps in—what if you’re not enough for her? What if you’re different from the others she’s been with, and she’s disappointed?

Your thoughts are interrupted as Paige reaches for your hand, her fingers threading through yours in a gentle, grounding gesture. Her eyes stay on yours, searching, concerned. She says your name, softly, once, then again. And then, “Baby…” Her voice cracks just slightly, and it tugs at something deep inside you. “Please don’t feel pressured. It’s okay. We don’t gotta do anything else.”

The way she says it, so sincere and unselfish, almost undoes you. You shake your head quickly, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “I don’t feel pressured,” you say, and though your voice wavers, it’s honest. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before you continue. “Just… just keep going, please.”

She hesitates, her eyes locked on yours for a long moment, as if she’s searching for any sign of hesitation, any flicker of doubt. When she seems to find nothing but your own need and trust, she nods, her expression softening into something almost reverent.

“Okay,” she murmurs, her lips pressing a kiss to your stomach, this one gentler than the ones before, less insistent but no less meaningful. She kisses you again, and again, her hands moving slowly as her fingers hook around the waistband of your sweatpants.

She pulls them down your legs with care, her eyes flicking back to yours to make sure it’s still okay. You nod, your heart racing but your body completely at ease with her. And as Paige tosses the sweatpants aside, her hands return to your hips, her lips never far from your skin, and you feel nothing but trust, nothing but her.

She places feather-light kisses along your inner thighs, moving slowly, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin in a way that makes your breath hitch. Her hands rest on your hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles that feel both soothing and electrifying. When her lips press against the edge of your underwear, your heart races so fast it’s all you can hear.

And then, without breaking her rhythm, she tilts her head slightly and presses a soft, lingering kiss right over your clothed clit. The sensation is light, almost teasing, but it sends a shiver coursing through you. You take a shaky breath through your nose, swallowing hard, because she’s barely touched you, and already your body feels like it’s on fire.

When her fingers slide to the waistband of your underwear, she pauses, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. The unspoken question is there again, and this time, you don’t even need to think about it. “Mm-hmm,” you hum softly, nodding as your chest rises and falls a little faster.

Paige nods back, her expression soft but full of intent, and she hooks her fingers around the elastic, sliding your underwear down slowly, carefully, as if she’s unwrapping something fragile. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver, and when her gaze lowers, taking you in fully for the first time, you feel your face heat up, a mixture of anticipation and self-consciousness twisting in your chest.

Instinctively, your legs start to close, but Paige catches them gently, her hands warm and steady as she presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t hide,” she murmurs, her voice low and soothing. When you don’t immediately relax, she looks up at you, sincerity written all over her face. “You’re so pretty, baby,” she says, her words soft but firm, like a promise.

Her reassurance eases some of the tension, and when she presses another kiss to your thigh—this one closer to where you want her—you let your legs fall open again, trusting her. Paige doesn’t rush. She kisses along your thigh again, then again, each one inching closer to where your body feels like it’s burning.

And then she’s there, her breath warm against your clit as she places the softest kiss there. The contact has you gasping quietly, your hips shifting involuntarily. She pauses, letting her lips linger, as if testing your response. When you let out a quiet, broken sound, she pulls back just slightly, her eyes lifting to yours as if checking one last time.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” she whispers, her hands smoothing up and down your thighs. You nod quickly, a whispered, “Okay,” tumbling out, though it feels like an understatement.

And then, without wasting any more time, Paige’s tongue slides along your core. That alone is enough to make your whole body flex, your stomach shuddering. Before you even get to process that foreign feeling of her tongue running up your slit, Paige presses her mouth against your clit completely, rolling her tongue right to the collection of nerves.

Her tongue alternates between soft, sweeping strokes and precise flicks that have you gasping for breath. It’s almost too much, and yet, not enough all at once. You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, but a moan finally escapes when her tongue moves a certain way, hitting a spot that has your whole body tightening. The sound you make is desperate, unrestrained, and your face flushes in embarrassment. But Paige doesn’t seem to mind—if anything, she doubles down, a soft moan escaping her lips, vibrating against you that sends a fresh wave of pleasure rolling through your body.

Jesus Christ, she’s good at this. Somewhere in the back of your mind, it makes you wonder how many people she’s been with, how much practice she’s had to make you feel like this. But then her tongue slips inside you, making you forget any and all of your thoughts, before it slides back out and smoothes back along your clit.

“Mmm, P,” you manage to gasp, your voice shaky and uneven. She glances up at you, her gaze meeting yours, and the sight of her—eyes dark with want, lips glistening—sends heat flooding through you. When she holds your gaze and tilts her head just slightly, her tongue hitting that same perfect spot again, your head falls back against the pillow, a breathless cry slipping out.

“Right there?” she murmurs, her voice low and muffled against you. The vibrations of her words are enough to make you tremble, and all you can do is nod, your fingers tightening in her hair as you whisper a choked, “Yeah—yes, shit.”

Paige doesn’t let up for a second, her lips and tongue working in seamless harmony to drive you closer and closer to the edge. It’s overwhelming, how good she is at this. Every flick of her tongue, every deliberate motion feels impossibly intentional, like she knows exactly what to do to unravel you piece by piece. Your thighs tense around her, hands tangling into her blonde hair as you press her closer, hips shifting instinctively to meet her movements.

Her hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you steady as she focuses all of her attention on you. You can feel the intensity in every motion she makes—each swirl of her tongue, every press of her lips against you is filled with purpose. She’s completely locked in, as if nothing else in the world exists but you. The tension in your stomach coils tighter and tighter, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

The noises slipping from your lips are no longer something you can control. You’ve never felt anything like this before, never imagined something could feel this good. Your hips move against her instinctively, searching for more, for everything she can give you. And Paige? Paige meets you exactly where you are, matching your every movement with a rhythm that drives you absolutely wild. As your legs begin to shake, she seems to sense your need for something more, and she slides her hands beneath your thighs, lifting your legs and placing them over her shoulders to get ever closer to your wet, dripping cunt.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your voice trembling as the pressure builds higher and higher. You’re teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. Paige doesn’t stop, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration as her her mouth becomes more precise and focused, tongue swiping so quickly against your wetness that you can tell she’s determined to push you over. “Paige, I think I’m gonna—”

You feel her nod against you, her tongue chasing the movement, and, between her kitten-licks and sucks, she gasps, breathless herself, “I know, I know. I gotchu, ma.”

And when she dives back in, taking your clit into her mouth and sucking it, her teeth scraping against you, her head shaking with the effort, that seems to do it. Your body tenses, toes curling as you gasp her name again, louder this time. The dam finally breaks, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you so intensely that it leaves you trembling. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as your hand grips Paige’s hair tightly, holding her to you as your orgasm overtakes you, your pussy dripping.

Fuck.

Paige doesn’t pull away, her hands steady on your thighs as she guides you through it, her tongue slowing its movements but not stopping, easing you gently down from your peak. Your body shudders with aftershocks, and you’re left breathless, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

When Paige finally pulls back, her lips are swollen and glistening, a soft, almost smug smile on her face. She crawls up your body, pressing a kiss to your hip, then your stomach, before finally reaching your lips again. Her kiss is soft, tender, a stark contrast to the intensity of what just happened.

“Hey,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice gentle as she brushes a strand of hair from your face. “You good?”

You nod, still catching your breath, and manage to whisper, “That was… fuck, P.”

Paige grins, her fingers lightly tracing circles along your side. “Did so good for me,” she murmurs, her voice warm and affectionate. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Her words make your heart flutter, and you bury your face in her neck, a shy smile spreading across your lips. Paige wraps her arms around you, pulling you close as you both settle into the bed. The steady rhythm of her breathing against you is soothing, grounding you after all of… that.

“I’m really glad it was you,” you murmur softly, your fingers idly tracing patterns on her shoulder.

Paige presses a kiss to the top of your head, her voice low and full of sincerity as she replies, “Me too.”

[sapphosclosefriend]

-Thanksgiving Fun-

Pairing: Stepcousin! Masc! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Summary: you were never able to resist her, not even on Thanksgiving.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: top! (beefy and tattooed 🤤) Natasha x bottom! R, stepcest, enemies with benefits, allusions to weed consumption, SMUT, oral on strap on (R giving), throat fucking (R receiving), strap on sex (R receiving), extremely brief oral (R receiving), squirting (R)

A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. I literally wrote this in 2 days out of a frenzy so Idk how good it is…M, P, G pt 2 will come, I promise!!!! Once again, thanks to @rt--link for being so sweet! As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

It was already November, which meant it was Thanksgiving time! You were so excited to finally get back home for a little bit after the couple of months you had spent away at uni. Contrary to most of your friends, you actually really liked Thanksgiving. Yes, it meant having to undergo the neverending interrogation from your classically nosy aunts, but you gladly did it every year to be able to spend some time with all of your relatives, even the ones who lived a bit more far away. Of course she was also one of them, though.

Natasha was one of your aunt’s daughters. Her mother had married your uncle 3 years before, making her, the redhead and her sister officially part of the family. Everyone liked Nat as soon as she became part of the group and her sister Yelena, with her sharp wit, was, if possible, even more beloved by everybody. As soon as the two girls regularly entered your lives, you had followed everyone’s advice and started to hang out together. You’d always felt very lucky for having cousins of your same age range, making them some of your closest friends ever, and having the chance of adding someone else to the group immediately sounded like the best idea ever, or at least that’s what you had thought at first.

That was because you didn’t like Natasha, you just didn’t. If at first, while witnessing her interactions with other people, she seemed to be the sweetest girl in the world, once you finally got to know her personally you started loathing her. She wasn’t necessarily a bad person, she was just so irritating all the time. And the worst part was that, apparently, she only acted that way with you, not with her friends, not with your other cousins, not even with her own sister, just with you. If you thought that, thanks to uni’s social life, you had met the cockiest motherfuckers in the world, you were utterly wrong. Natasha was the most terrible one of them all. It was constant teasing, constant comments, constant jokes, constant snickering and each time you heard her voice or looked at her, you wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk off her pretty face.

You didn’t know how it all started. Well, of course you knew that one time, at your grandma’s house to celebrate her birthday, Natasha had been particularly annoying since the moment you’d gotten there, which resulted in you being bitchy and her pulling you into the bathroom and kissing you once she had you trapped against the locked door. You hated it, every second of it and the fact that you ended up begging her to keep going while she was with her fingers knuckle deep inside of you wasn’t of any importance. You weren’t proud of what happened that day, but you were too nice to deny her when a couple of days later she was at your door ripping your clothes off of you. You were both attending the same uni and, despite literally never seeing each other in academic nor social settings, you started finding the closeness to be a much bigger impediment to your initial want to put a stop to your newly found situation. You were growing weaker and weaker to her charm, only while in the bedroom of course, and your intent to end it all kept getting pushed to the back of your mind each time you came with her name on your lips, until it was completely gone.

And that’s how you ended up at yet another family gathering partly ruined by her, this time to celebrate Thanksgiving, having to try to push away the tingle between your legs at the sight of her in her usual casual clothes hiding the defined muscles underneath as she talked with her dad and your grandpa about something involving a bike she was fixing up for herself. You were keeping your distance for your own sanity, but you could clearly hear their words and her low, raspy voice regularly adding to the conversation. You didn’t know what the hell they were talking about and either way, you had stopped actively listening long before, once you got lost in the view of her hand as she held her glass. The second she noticed your eyes fixed on her, you were thankfully saved from her most definitely coming over to tease you, by your cousin Clint, bored out of his mind and equally in need of leaving as soon as possible, even if for very different reasons than you. Ok, maybe him being the person talking to you didn’t exactly make him your savior, he was the person Natasha had gotten the closest to after all, which meant that, as soon as she once again turned to get a peek of your outfit she particularly appreciated, he immediately called her over, most definitely hoping to lure her away from the party. She couldn’t have been more obvious with the way her eyes kept ranking your body head to toe as she listened to his frustrated rambling, but thankfully Clint’s desperation blinded him from noticing the less than innocent way in which her gaze was on you.

“I’m begging you Nat, I’ll get on my knees! Just one!”

You both couldn’t help but chuckle at the grown man’s antics, when you suddenly realized that you had no idea of what the hell they were talking about. You barely had the time to open your mouth to ask them directly, when, of course, she interrupted you without a care to keep talking to her friend.

“Fine, but I’m taking half of it”

As soon as the first word barely left her mouth he was throwing his fist in the air and putting his coat on to go to the guest house she was staying in with you. Because of course you had been placed in the same room, in the small guest house in the backyard that only consisted of one room with one bed. You didn't know why, but everyone apparently thought of you two as some sort of best friends just because you both went to the same uni, despite, again, the known fact that you did not have one single class together, lived in different places and had completely different friends, meaning that you only saw each other when she called you over or randomly popped up at your place to fuck, but of course they didn't know any of that.

“A quarter..”

He was already leaving once he spoke his final words, leaving her alone with you to shake her head at her friend’s antics.

“Fine”

You hated how easily she seemingly had you under a trance as she murmured the word while smiling to herself. She was able to put you out of it equally fast, though, as she turned to you to regard you before leaving the celebration to follow after Clint.

“Are you coming?”

Her almost soft tone had to have given you some sort of whiplash as you stood there, looking at her without being able to utter a single word for a second, before regaining control over your own mind, and sanity, once you noticed her lips starting to curl into her usual mischievous smirk.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna stay here a bit longer”

She was once again putting at risk your ability to talk as she ran a hand through her short hair to get it out of her face and moved closer and closer to you, sneaking her gaze towards the other side of the room where most people had moved to, before reaching behind you to get a snack from the table you were leaning against, pressing her front against yours and letting your feel a certain something poking your lower belly.

“I’ll wait for you then”

She looked way too pleased by your slightly widened eyes as you tried to contain your emotions in order not to draw any attention to the two of you.

“You’re packing?”

Her brows furrowed as you whisper yelled at her, before speaking matter of factly.

“Of course I’m packing, I’m always packing when I’m with you”

She didn't give you the time to respond to her, immediately licking the chocolate off her fingers while shamelessly looking at your cleavage before turning to go to the guest house. She was infuriating, her and her constant horniness. You decided to casually join some conversations here and there for the brief rest of the night, until almost everyone had gotten to bed, including a much more relaxed Clint, and it was just you and your aunt gossiping in the living room. The moment your phone buzzed in your lap you almost had a feeling of who might had been trying to get in contact with you, so you cautiously lifted the screen, in case a certain someone decided to share something a little too private, and noticed she had sent you a picture.

The moment you clicked on it, the initial, brief awe you found yourself lost in at the sight of her posing with her tongue peaking out and the hood of her sweatshirt over her cap, was unfortunately wiped away once you finally read the caption under it. You couldn’t help but mentally facepalm at her dumb words, even if you had to reluctantly admit that the text was successful in making your heart leap at its crude nature.

“Not enough pressure on my 🍆”

Her finger was pointing to the word “pressure” printed on her hoodie, why did she have to be that way? You knew what she wanted from you, it was all she seemed to be thinking about, like some pussydrunk teen, and the way she didn’t even ask you if you were down for it, expecting you to just indulge her wish, didn’t sit right with you. Who did she think you were? Her whore always waiting for her like a pet?

You locked your phone with a frustrated sigh and got up from the couch, quickly finding an excuse with the immediate questioning you got from your aunt as to why you'd go back to your room so early.

By the time you walked across the whole backyard and got to the entrance of the guest house you were finally able to make out her figure, sitting on the wicker armchair under the small porch with all the lights off, in complete darkness, to hide the very end of a hand rolled cigarette between her fingers and the suspiciously smelly smoke coming from her.

“Your tits look good in that shirt”

You knew it was coming, as soon as you had chosen your outfit, you knew some sort of comment was to be made by her, although it had taken her a bit longer than you had expected. You were wearing a quite simple blouse with a boob window, in reality nothing as scandalous as it sounded, but the complete opposite in Natasha’s eyes. The way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass and the sway of your hips anytime you had walked past her, were just the cherry on top to the main course right below your pretty face.

You barely looked at her as you kept walking by her past the door without acknowledging her words, hearing her chuckle at your usual uptight self. You hated to admit it, but the way she was manspreading, making a bulge under her sweatpants slightly visible, while she casually smoked, had made you even more willing to help her out with her “pressure issue”, not that she needed to know about your enthusiasm anyway. By the time you were just starting to get undressed she entered the room, locking the door behind her and standing against it to shamelessly look at your ass as you leaned down to take your shoes off. As soon as your pants were off too and you were about to slip off your shirt she spoke up.

“No no no, keep that on”

Despite the way too pleased look on her face, you were silently thankful for the piece of clothing still on you in the slightly chilly room. You didn’t even bother to take your warm, ankle high socks off and left yourself fall on your back on the bed, feeling satisfied after noticing her swallowing and wetting her own lips as her eyes stayed fixed on your boobs’ slight jiggling as you had dropped on the mattress. Once you got comfortable on top of the soft duvet, you made sure to look right at her as you slowly spread your legs and immediately started lightly rubbing yourself through the fabric of your own underwear, moaning softly at the light stimulation as a way to tease the motherfucker in front of you. Without uttering a word, she left her spot by the door and walked over to you, stopping at the foot of the bed to grab her cock through her pants and slowly pump it. Pushing down her sweatpants just enough for the dildo strapped to her hips to spring out, she gave you a peak of the beautiful, defined v lines you had kissed over so many times and the bottom of the tattoos on her torso and abdomen you had to admit you loved. There was some ink peeking out from the cuff on her wrist as well, making the sight of her strong hand holding the base of her cock even more pleasing.

“Come here, get it wet”

You wanted to come up at least with a remark at her blunt order, but found nothing but anticipation in you and your body, as if moving by its own accord, immediately left your spot to kneel on the bed right in front of her crotch. You didn't waste any time, you couldn't have even if you wanted to, and, as soon as your lips touched the head of her cock, you tried your best to relax your throat in order to take as much of her length as you could, earning a pleased hum from her at the sound of your gags every time she reached the back of your throat.

“Now that's a cocksucker”

Her words pulled your eyes to her face and found her looking intently at you. The groan that came from her once you stopped bobbing your head to stay still with her cock still in your mouth sent a strong twing of arousal through you as she easily understood what you wanted.

She gently grabbed your head with both hands to keep you in place and immediately started to move her hips to fuck your face. Relishing the sight of a string of spit dropping on the part of your chest exposed by the cut in your shirt, she started pushing even deeper to see just how far you were willing to go for her. The resistance was clear as she pushed a bit more of her cock with every other thrust, until you finally couldn't wait anymore and grabbed her ass to give her a push and hopefully make her understand what she needed to do. With one final thrust she managed to push herself past your tight throat until your nose was touching her crotch. She couldn't help herself and rushed to get her phone from her pocket to snap a picture of you looking up at her with watery eyes as you grasped her ass cheeks through her pants to keep her from moving away. It was only once the need to breathe got the best of you that you pushed yourself off of her, sucking in a deep breath while Natasha stared with hooded eyes at your swollen lips and the spit connecting them to her cock.

“You say you hate me but you need my cock that much?”

You hated so much how true her words were and tried to distract yourself from the thought by lying back down and grabbing her cock now covered in your spit.

“Well, you're obsessed with my pussy so it's even”

She just smirked at your remark, deep down knowing that you were so fucking right. She couldn't get enough of it, all the girls she had fucked and she had to loose it for her stepcousin? Well, she honestly didn't give a shit, as long as you were careful she was going to keep fucking you like the slut she knew you were for her deep down.

“For the first time I've gotta say you're right”

You didn't even have the time to process her words and the shock that they had caused when she suddenly moved your underwear to the side and grabbed your ass tightly to lift your hips and get a taste of you, moaning exaggeratedly at her now favorite snack. Despite the leg shaking orgasm you knew she would've easily gotten out of you with her mouth, you pushed the delicious thought to the side and firmly grabbed her hair to lift her from your center.

“Right now I need your cock balls deep in my pussy, not your mouth”

Her lips looked way too delicious as they glistened with your juices and as they curled up she suddenly left go of your ass, making you yelp as you fell back to your lying position, before grabbing your thighs and pushing them to each of your sides, waiting for you to keep them there yourself with your arms to fully open yourself up for her. From the position you had a clear view of her strap as she rubbed it over your wet folds before finally pushing its head inside of you. She could never get enough of seeing your reaction at her entering you for the first time and once again, she couldn't help but keep her eyes on your face from the first moment. She fucked you just with the tip for a bit in order for you to get used to her and, gradually pushed more and more inside as you rubbed your own clit. You knew you were very far away from everybody else, but you still tried your best to keep your volume as low as you could, making her smirk at the clear signs of your struggle to do so.

“More, go faster”

She loved it every time when your uptight, moralist voice turned in a second into the pathetic begs of her own cockdrunk whore and who was she to give up the chance of fucking her personal pussy when she asked for it? After lifting up her hoodie a little to get a better view of your center begging to be filled up more and more, she firmly grabbed your waist, gradually thrusting faster and harder until she had set a pace that knocked your breath away every time she pushed her hips forward and her tip stroked your g spot so deliciously a deep sensation quickly started to build up inside of you. Her flexed abs and veins popping up on her hands made the pleasure she was making you feel, become even stronger, getting your orgasm closer by the second. It honestly amazed you how fast she was always able to make you cum and, despite not wanting to show her any weakness, you admittedly always felt a little self conscious because of it. You could barely keep it anymore, though, it was going to happen in a matter of seconds and your mouth opening in shock told her everything she needed to know.

“Wait, I think I'm gonna-”

You didn't have the chance of finishing your sentence before an earth shattering orgasm hit you so strongly that small, clear droplets spilled out of you every time she pulled back.

“Holy shit”

She panted the words to herself before swiftly pulling out completely and quickly rubbing her fingers over your clit, making you moan loudly as you squirted even more for her while you rode out your orgasm. By the time you were done, your legs were a little shaky and you were almost sobbing from how intense and quick it all was. Once you looked back at her, though, you knew you would've gladly done it as many times as she wanted. Her abs were a little wet from your orgasm, with a couple of drops still lingering on her tattooed skin, and, once your eyes locked with hers, she looked like the most dangerous predator eyeing its prey, ready to eat it in one bite, and, god, wasn't she going to do exactly that.

After all, maybe Thanksgiving was actually going to be even better with her.

.

.

.

Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100

[dira333]

Soul-Food - Osamu x Reader

Enemies to lovers - Requested by @notsochillnerd - with Atsumu as a terrible wingman who just wanted to check out his brothers' nemesis...

There is only one thing more annoying than Miya Osamu with his cooking talent, excellent marks, and unfairly good looks: his twin brother Atsumu.

“No.” You say again, arms filled with produce. He’s in your way and he’s not even sorry about it.

“Come oooon!” He whines, draping himself over the railing of the stairs as if this is a photoshoot for some perfume. “I’m so hungry! And Osamu won’t cook for me! I’ll even pay you!”

“Wow, now I want to do it even less, knowing you might not have paid me in the first place.” You snark, patience wearing thin.

“Now get out of my way, I need to get to my room.”

“To do what?” He steps to the side, but his face remains close to yours. You’re not the fastest as it is, even less when carrying that many vegetables. 

“I need to cook.”

“Perfect.” His grin is so wide, it could split his face. “You cook, I’ll eat.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

You hesitate, if only for a second. But Atsumu is like a shark and that was the single drop of blood that he needed.

Half an hour later he’s sitting at the little table in your apartment. 

Your kitchen isn’t spacious, but equipped with everything you could possibly need - there’s a reason this school costs an arm and a leg each year. And Miya Osamu got the scholarship instead of you.

You wouldn’t have any problem with it if not for your father breathing down your neck. He’s got the money to send you here twice if he wanted to, but in his twisted mind, a 100% is barely a passing grade and you should have been able to win the scholarship, monetary status be damned.

“What are you making?” Atsumu asks from behind you.

“Udon.”

“Why is it black?” 

“I’m using Sepia.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.” You snap back, hoping against hope that he will fall quiet. He doesn’t. 

-

You’ve spent almost a year in a class with Osamu.

He might not always get a better mark than you, but he quickly figured out how much you hated it when he did. There’s nothing worse than someone else gloating over your loss.

The teachers love him and tolerate you. 

So far they’ve been kind enough not to put the two of you into a group project, or maybe they just played it safe. The sheer bloodlust you feel when he grins in your direction must have tipped them off.

But this year is going to end soon and your teachers expect you to come up with a dish. Your own creation, not unlike the dish you had to make for your entry exam. This time, however, it’s supposed to showcase what you want to do, going forward.

You can’t bring the same thing you made for your entry exam, even though it was perfect and a delight - you made it roughly one hundred times before. 

Your father has always been a fan of the Kaiseki Ryori and while you had loved taking part in the Haute Cuisine as a child, feeling grown up as you nibbled on tiny bites of expensive food, it has lost its appeal on you.

After all, there’s a set number of times you can eat a meal, even Chawanmushi, before you get sick of it.

“Hello? Are you still listening?” Nuisance number 2 asks behind you and you flinch, staring down at the dough that you kneaded for too long. 

“What’s Osamu doing for his exam?” You ask, feeling a little guilty about your attempt at spying.

“Why do you want to know?”

Nevermind. Now you only feel annoyed.

“Just because. Maybe I want to talk about something other than you.”

You move to throw the dough out, only to be stopped by Atsumu’s voice.

“What are you doing?”

“I messed it up. It’s not going to taste good.”

“So what? I’m hungry.”

“You want to eat gross noodles?” You eye him warily, but he shrugs with a grin.

“It’s definitely going to be better than what I’d produce myself. But since I hate cooking, I’d probably just get takeout pizza anyway.”

“Aren’t you an athlete?”

“Yeah?”

“And they let you eat Pizza?”

“They don’t know. Or they don’t care. Whatever you like better. I mean, they gave me a list of stuff I should keep away from but that’s like, all the food I usually consume.”

“Here.” You pull out a pen and paper. “Write down what you eat in a day. Snacks included. And drinks.”

“Why?”

“If I have to endure your chatting, you might as well get something out of this. Now, shoo!”

You turn, lid of your composter already open when his voice reaches you.

“DON’T THROW AWAY THE DOUGH!”

“Fine!” You snap. “You can eat your disgusting noodles!”

They don’t taste that awful in the end, not with your delicate sauce with mussels and steamed broccoli that turned out so good Atsumu licks his plate clean.

-

You’d been part of the track club in Middle School, switched to Volleyball in High School because they had fewer practice hours per week. Your marks had always been more important than any side activities, your future as a part of Haute Cuisine decided before you could walk. But it had been fun, especially when Coach gathered you after practice to talk about the importance of self-care. How certain foods could make or break you. How important salt and minerals were for your body, how food was more than calories, protein, carbs, and fat.

You’re not even a little bit rusty when you scribble down a meal plan for him. You keep it easy and as cheap as possible, light on the cooking because you figured he must be the opposite of his twin in the kitchen if he came begging for food… You’re not sure if you’re buying his excuse of a brotherly fight, but you’re not ashamed to say that you didn’t mind him praising your food over Osamu’s. Suck that, Miya!

Meanwhile, Atsumu’s brows are pulled so high, they’re hiding behind his bangs.

“What’s that supposed to be?”

“Your new meal plan. You follow that, you’ll increase your stamina.”

“But it’s so much work.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“Whatever.” You get up, throw the pen down at the table. Your patience has never been the best anyway.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He follows you to the sink but not to help with the dishes.

“You could cook for me.” He offers it like it’s a great deal. You snort.

“I bet there’s something you want. Something I could do for you…” He wiggles his brows now, looks disgustingly like Osamu when he got a better mark then you. And that kickstarts your brain.

“I want Osamu… I mean the recipe…You know, what Osamu made to get the scholarship. If you can get me that dish of him to try, I’ll cook for you.”

Atsumu grins in a way that doesn’t feel good but he nods.

“Alright, it’s a deal. You’ll cook for me and I get you the dish.” He holds out his hand to sign the deal but you’ve been the daughter of a cutthroat banker for too long to fall for that.

“I’ll cook for a week.” You tell him firmly and watch with a sick satisfaction as his face contorts. He looks awful when he’s pissed and there are definitely not enough moments of the Miya twins looking awful.

“Two weeks.

“One week, only dinner.”

“One week, lunch, dinner and snacks.”

“Are you insane?”

“Do you want Osamu’s food?”

There’s a moment of Silence, and you’re eyeing each other, calculating who’s bluffing and who’s not.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because you feel it in your bones that trying that damned dish will get you a step closer to figuring out what you need to present for your Final.

-

You feel like a drug addict, going down the deep end, when Atsumu appears at your door one week later, carrying a Bento-Box wrapped in the cutest fabric you have ever seen.

“Are those little foxes?” You ask, eyeing the reddish-tinted animals on the grey fabric.

“What if ?” He asks back, nose up in the air.

“Jeez, I was just curious.” You snap back and muster him. He doesn’t look malnourished.

“What did you eat this week?”

“Why do you ask?” He sets the Bento-Box on your table and saunters into your kitchen, peering into the still empty pots and pans.

“You’re an awful liar.”

“Okay, so I told Samu that you cooked for me.” He throws his hands up in the air like you’re the one making a big fuss about things. “Told him it was fingerlickin’ good. Got him all angry and puffy.”

You are not ashamed to say that comment lifts you off your feet just a little bit. Hah!

“So?” You ask cooly, untying the Furoshiki with eager fingers.

“So he insisted that he would cook for me. Everything went according to plan, I pretended it wasn’t as good as your food until I asked for the dish he made for his entry exams.”

“Did you know what it was?” You ask as you lift the lid of the box.

“Maybe.” He says and you can hear in his voice that he knew. He probably didn’t tell you just to experience this.

“He made Onigiri?” You ask, your voice a little shrill.

You had made Chawanmushi, a dish literally to die for, practiced one hundred times, and he beat you with Onigiri?

“Try it.” He reaches for one of the Onigiri in the box and you slap his hand away.

“Mine!” You hiss angrily and his grin is almost feral.

“I’ll take a walk around the block then.” He jokes, moving toward the door. “Leave you alone with it.”

“Leave.” You wave him off. “I’ll make dinner later.”

“Half an hour.”

“Leave!” You huff and the door clicks shut behind him.

-

You bite into the first Onigiri and time stops for a second. 

The rice is cooked to perfection, but you know the different varieties well. He must have splurged on this kind, bought from a boutique farmer of some sorts. 

It’s filled with tuna and spring onion, but it tastes different then all the Tuna Onigiri you’ve had before. You write down all the different things you can taste, compare them to the knowledge you have but still - did he use a spice you don’t know? A combination you’re not familiar with?

The taste lingers, but you cannot put your finger on it. You feel a little weepy too, as if you had just watched your favorite movie from when you were a kid. You sniff and take the other Onigiri, bite into almost cautiously. It’s Tenmusu, your favorite kind of Onigiri.

This time, literal tears run down your cheeks. The shrimp is crisp, the sweet sauce calling you back to childhood, reminding you of the few free afternoons you got to spend with your mother, just the two of you, no work allowed. You only remember to write down the taste and ingredients when the last bite has disappeared and your hands leave the paper stained. 

Well… You’re no closer to figuring out what to make for your finals, but you might be getting your period soon. Why else would you be moved to tears by food?

-

“Onigiri, huh?” You ask Osamu after class the next day. You can’t help yourself.

He looks up from his phone, surprise on his face. It’s ridiculous how good that makes him look.

“What about it?”

“I heard you made Onigiri for your Entry Exam.”

“Ah, yes.” He smiles, the kind of smile that makes you want to slap it off his face. “Tsumu told me he made you try it.”

You can feel your face go slack. WHAT?

“What did you think?” Osamu asks, way too confident for your taste. “Did you like them?”

You can’t decide between a huff and a snort and the sound that does come out reminds you more of a dying walruss.

“They were probably pitying you.” You point out, nose in the air. “I showed up with Kaiseki Ryori. I made Chawanmushi.”

“Ah.” Osamu sounds like he’s not sure what that is. But you’ve gone over that in class, he’s just messing with you.

“Well, when do I get to try it?” 

You blink. “What?” 

“Yeah, it’s only fair, right? After you tried mine.”

You swallow thickly, look around for some help, but you’re the only one’s still in the hallway.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because he does have a point. “As long as I don’t have to eat it.”

His brows furrow and your mind unhelpfully supplies you with the information that his eyes are a different shade than Atsumu’s. Osamu’s eyes are almost as grey as his hair, reminding you of the sky outside. 

His mouth moves and you blink, try to focus on his voice, but fail. Your collar feels too tight around your neck and you pull at it, too aware of Osamu’s eyes that flicker to your neck and stay there. God, what’s going on?”

“What did you say?” You ask in the most snooty voice you can manage. “I wasn’t listening.”

“Why do you cook something you don’t like?” He asks. “Don’t you enjoy cooking?”

Something snaps inside you like a rubberband that has been pulled taut for too long.

“Why do you care?” You sniff and he rolls his eyes. 

“I was just asking.”

“Sure you were. But you’re psychological warfare doesn’t work on me! You can flutter your long eyelashes at someone else!”

Osamu laughs. “I wasn’t-”

“Neither was I. Well, are you coming or not?”

“Where?” 

“You wanted to try my Chawanmushi!”

“Gesundheit.” You turn, not the least bit surprised to see Atsumu standing there. It’s lunchtime for him, he’s coming to collect his goods. “Or was that a codeword for something naughty?”

“Oh god, you’re awful.” 

-

You know that the Chawanmushi has turned out as perfect as all the other times. You can tell by sight and smell, but you cannot bring yourself to try it.

The thought of it has you swallow back bile but you serve it to the brothers with the biggest smile you can manage.

“Here.” You present it in tiny, elegant bowls.

“Are you in pain?” Osamu asks and you drop the smile.

“Go f-” 

“Why is it so tiny?” Atsumu asks, eyeing the bowl skeptically. “I’m hungry.”

“I made you Curry.” You tell him off. “This is just a tasting. You can’t eat full bowls with Kaiseki Ryori, you’d never manage that amount of food.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” Atsumu digs in, spoon clinking loudly against the bowl to the point you fear for its life.

He’s done with it before Osamu has even tasted his, still smelling the dish carefully, pulling the spoon through as if to check for clumps.

“It was fine.” Atsumu gives his mark as one would comment on an order of KFC. “Now, the Curry?” 

You huff but don’t get up, eyes still trained on Osamu. Then, finally, he brings the spoon to his mouth. If you’re focusing a little too much on his full lips, that’s entirely because he’s the world's slowest eater at the moment and nothing else.

His face remains passive. 

Cold sweat runs down your back as he slowly but surely finishes the dish and nods appraisingly.

“It was good.” Osamu says calmly. “The Curry?”

Breathing is a little hard at the moment, but you manage to get up, collect the bowls - you don’t throw them at the floor in a fit of rage and you’re very proud of yourself for that - and get them safely to the kitchen sink.

Your hands shake a little as you serve the Curry in three different plates, but if the boys notice, they don’t comment on it. 

“I hope you like it.” Your voice is back to normal, your wounded heart tucked safely back into your chest. “It’s packed with protein and healthy vegetables to make sure you have all the necessary nutrients. You could eat this every day and wouldn’t have to worry about losing out on anything.”

Atsumu digs in without another word. He beams around the spoon, curses loudly.

“This is so good.” He says, mouth full.

“Pig.” Osamu announces next to him, puts the first spoon into his mouth and-

You can see it, in the widening of his eyes and the light blush that appears on the height of his unfairly sharp cheekbones. He likes it. He likes it very much.

You should probably feel a bit more upset about the fact that they insult your Chawanmushi but get high on your Curry, but then again, it just feels good to watch Osamu have the same reaction to your Curry that you had with his Onigiri.

“You should make this for the Exam.” Osamu points out in between a groan and another spoonful of Curry. “It’s amazing.”

“No!” Atsumu shakes his head, still speaks with his mouth full. “The Udon you made yesterday. That was crazy good.”

“What Udon?” Osamu’s voice has a tint to it you cannot place. Does he know about the Onigiri you tried but not about the deal itself? Is he jealous he didn’t get to try them?

“Okay, so she makes the Noodles herself, right? This time without the freaky black stuff-”

“Sepia,” you throw in but he ignores you, “But she used pork belly for the sauce and something creamy and mushrooms, I think-”

“Shiitake.” 

“And I tell you, Samu, it was so so good! Like, it reminded me of Mom making that stew, you know? When Dad had that big sale thing and we got to celebrate it?”

Osamu’s eyes light up in a way that has you looking down at your food, heart thrumming in your chest like a hummingbird on speed.

“Can you-” He hesitates for a second. “Can you make me that?”

“I could.” You point out, not at all feeling the upper hand. You feel nervous instead as if this is a test or something worse. You swallow thickly, try to think of something to wager against it. Your mind is unhelpful at best, offering the possibility of a date - as if! 

“If I get your recipe. For the Onigiri.”

Osamu’s mouth clicks shut. He blinks, clearly surprised. Then he grins, the kind of grin that tells you this isn’t going to work in your favor, at all.

“Sure. So, Udon tomorrow?”

“I was going to make Katsudon tomorrow.” You point out, pissed that he’s overthrowing your meal plan. Atsumu looks like he’s gotten a glimpse of heaven.

“Really?”

-

You hate to think about it, but the week is nearing its end and Osamu feels less like the devil and more like the dangerously cute boy from your class now. The dangerously cute boy who’s going to get a better mark than you, take the promised internship at one of Japan's leading five-star restaurants and laugh in your face if you don’t shape up right now.

Your father is as helpful as ever.

He’s currently obsessed with the Yakimono part of Kaiseki Ryori, taking you out to dinner each weekend only to try new variants that you should use for your Final Exam.

The food is good, there’s no denying that, but it lacks the emotional touch you had with the Onigiri.

The same Onigiri that you’ve made three times already. They never taste like Osamu’s.

You’re suspecting that he skipped on one ingredient in the recipe, the one thing you could not put your finger on when you tried them. 

“Hey.” Atsumu’s waiting at your door when you return from coffee with your mother. She had been even less helpful, talking about the new dessert dish she was creating. You might have gotten her cooking skills, but you hate baking almost as much as Chawanmushi.

“I thought we said we would skip the cooking over the weekend.” 

“Yeah, about that.” He lifts a heavy bag. “I wanted to ask for a favor.”

“I’m not setting for you.”

“Why would I- Never mind, I wanted to ask… Could you like, show me… how to cook?”

You blink in surprise.

“Why would I teach you that? Don’t you have your brother?”

“He’s not a good teacher.” Atsumu points out and you snort.

“So you want to learn how to cook? And stop harassing me and Osamu?”

“No, no, I will still harass the two of you for food, but it looked easy when you did it, so I thought you could teach me, maybe?”

“Fine.” 

“I’m even pa- Fine? Oh, wow, that was easy.”

“If I can ask you some questions in turn without you judging me?”

“Me, judging someone? Never.” He puts a hand on his chest, probably aiming for his heart, but he’s now swearing on his left ribcage.

-

You watch like a Hawk as Atsumu prepares the Omurice. He’s got a bad habit of getting distracted, but he’s not a bad student.

“So…” You swallow your nerves. “You and Osamu used to play Volleyball together, right?”

“Yeah. He could have gone Pro, like me. But he said…” He raises his hands to make air quotes and lowers his voice into a deeper pitch to mock Osamu, “Skillswise I'm just as good as you. But I think that, when all's said and done, you love volleyball just a teensy bit more than me.”

“And you were okay with that?” 

“Nah.” Atsumu flips the Omurice onto a plate and hands it over to you. “Try.”

“It’s good.” You hand it back to him. “Eat.”

-

When Atsumu leaves, you’re left with even more questions than before.

What does it mean to love something so much you’re willing to pass up something good?

Atsumu is making good money as a Pro, even now. But Osamu had no idea if he was going to make it into this school until he tried.

And why did he make freaking Onigiri?

Midnight has come and gone when you put a jacket over your sleepshirt and slip out of your apartment in nothing but booty shorts and bunny slippers.

You’re not sure if there’s a nightguard. There might be, this is still a mixed dorm filled with hormonal teens and tweens. 

Even though you’ve never been to Osamu’s place before, you know the route by heart. You had memorized it in a childish fit when you realized his room was just below the fire escape.

You wouldn’t allow him to survive you in case of an emergency.

You knock twice before you can hear movement. The door opens and you almost swallow your tongue.

His hair is in disarray as if he’d dragged his hands through it all night and there’s the imprint of his pillow left on his cheek. He’s topless and you keep your eyes trained on the imprint on his cheek as if you don’t notice his happy trail or his still well-trained abs. 

He blinks slowly and yawns.

“What’s up?” He asks. Something moves over his face, quick like a sparrow. “Shit, are you hurt? Did something happen?!”

“No, no, I… Shit, I don’t know, I-”

“Come in.” He pulls you inside, but he calculates wrong, uses too much force for your quivering body. You end up mushed against his chest, face plant right into the warm skin.

If you die like this, you won’t even be mad about it.

“Shit, sorry.” He grabs you and puts you at a distance again, blush high on his cheeks. 

“Your Onigiri.” You start, before he can realize that you’re flustered too. “You didn’t list all the ingredients.”

“I did.”

“Did not. They don’t taste the same.”

“Ah.” He makes that insufferable sound like he knows everything you don’t. 

You want to poke his abs, but you decide against it, mainly because it would make you look weird. But they do look ni-

“Tea?” He asks and you hold your right hand with your left, just in case it turns sentient. 

“Yes, thank you.”

“Your Onigiri don’t taste like mine, because I make them for someone.”

“What?”

“The Tuna one.” He looks at the kettle instead of you, but his voice is wistful, distant. “I always make that one for Tsumu.”

“And the Tenmusu?”

“It’s my Mom’s favorite.” He says softly and you can’t help it, but you start to cry.

“Your Mom likes Tenmusu too?”

“Ah, shit, don’t tell me- Wait, here, take this…” He hands you a tissue to blow your nose and dry your tears. 

“So you’re saying your secret ingredient is love? You’re really going to stand there and make me believe that you got the scholarship because you put love in your food?”

He shrugs. “You don’t have to believe me. But there’s a reason your Chawanmushi did not taste as good as your Curry.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Gladly.” He smirks at you and this time your hand is faster than your mind, pointer finger digging into the firm muscle of his right pectoral.

“Don’t mess with me.”

“Why not?” His face moves closer to you, or did you move closer to his? “Isn’t it fun?”

Whoever moved first doesn’t matter now as his breath washes over you. His eyes skip to your lips and you lick them, no thoughts left in your brain.

Behind him, the kettle whistles, signaling that the water’s cooking, but neither of you moves. 

This could end very badly, or very great, however you want to look at it. 

Your mind, helpful as ever, comes up with a sentence that just slips out of your mouth unprompted.

“Atsumu said that you loved Volleyball a little-”

He draws back the moment he hears you speak, face now closed like a window that has let down its shutters. 

“Right, Atsumu.” He says, interrupting you. “You should get back to the bed.”

“But the tea…”

“I forgot.” He takes the kettle off the stove. “I was going to make a hot water bottle for myself. Sorry.” 

-

Somehow, somewhere, you took a wrong turn.

Maybe it was when you started liking Osamu, in this weird way that has you enjoy the bickering and the competitiveness. Maybe it was even before that, when you let Atsumu get away with his needling, fed him Udon instead of throwing him out.

Or maybe it was even before that, when you didn’t put up a fight everytime your father decided for you, when your mother put work before spending time with you. 

It’s a good thing that Finals are right around the corner.

You can’t focus in most classes, left staring holes into Osamu’s back. 

Atsumu’s stopped showing up himself, probably now a master in cooking for himself. Or he’s gone back to Osamu, to fantastic Onigiri and whatever else he knows how to make.

-

Four days before the Final, someone bangs on your door.

“Jeez, I’m coming.” You pull the door open to reveal Atsumu, soaked and clearly pissed..

“You okay?” You ask. “Or do you need a towel?”

“Why are you not a couple?” He asks back. “Like, the tension was there, you were practically undressing each other at the table - in front of me, might I add - and yet you’re not even speaking to each other? I even cooked all my meals these past weeks in the hopes of hearing good news but Samu’s acting like a bug crawled up his ass and died.”

“What are you even talking abou-”

“Oh, don’t fool me.” He steps inside and moves toward your bathroom without asking. “I just ran here because all I get from Samu are cryptic messages. Did you say something?”

“No, I-”

“Spill.” Atsumu points at the kitchentable, hesitates for a second, then he points at the kitchen itself. “Make some food while your at it. Also, can I have some change of clothes?”

You make Okayu with ginger and honey, the rice porridge a comfort to your heart and a boost to Atsumu’s immune system.

It’s not a long tale. It could be, probably, but you refuse to go into more detail than necessary. Atsumu might be kind of a friend, in his weird, annoying way, but he’s still Osamu’s twin brother.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” He grabs the bag with his clothes and stalks off, dressed in one of your oversized hoodies and bright pink pajama pants, both things slightly too short on him.

“Give him a chance when he comes back,” are his parting words.

But Osamu does not show up.

Neither does he the next morning in class.

-

One of the teachers calls you over after class.

“You and Miya-san are pretty close, right?” She starts, speaks on while you’re still trying not to choke on your spit. “Could you bring him the notes from today? He called in sick. Tell him to take care and rest, so that he can take part in the Final.”

“I-I will.”

You end up in your own room instead, debating if you should just leave everything in front of his door and run. If he’s not at the final, you automatically win. But that’s not a win you’d feel good about, if you’re being honest to yourself.

Before you know it, you find yourself making Oyaku again, with Ginger and Honey, the one food that always gives you comfort and boosts your health. The process is simple, but it still calms you down every time. When it’s done, you look down at two portions and know what to do.

-

“Osamu?” The door is closed, but you can hear faint shuffling behind it. “I made you Oyaku. I heard you’re sick and got your notes from the teachers. I didn’t tell them that I’m a friend of yours, but she was convinced of it and didn’t let me change her mind. But I… we kinda are friends, right?” You feel so weird talking to the closed door. 

“Even if you don’t like me, we got to keep up the reputation. Eat the Oyaku, okay? Winning doesn’t feel the same if you kick yourself out of the game.”

You put everything in front of his door and leave, lingering at the end of the hallway, just out of sight, until you hear his door. When you look back, the Oyaku is gone and all you have to do is wait.

-

Osamu is already outside when you step out of the classroom. 

“Already finished?”

“Onigiri doesn’t take that long to make.” 

“Ah, right.” You nod, don’t know if you should avoid his gaze or follow your instinct and look a bit more closely. He sounds healthy at least.

“What did you make?” His voice is gruff when he asks.

“Ginger Honey Oyaku.” You answer, voice soft. “Which might confuse the teachers because I had all the ingredients ready for honey-glazed pork belly but I decided against it at the last second.”

“I’d have loved to try that pork belly.” Osamu sighs dreamily. “But that Oyaku was so good. I could eat that everyday and never get tired of it.”

“Same.” You smile but it falters when you feel his eyes on you and you know you’ve got to say it. “I made it for you.”

“Yeah, I know-”

“No, what you said… about the Entry Exam.” You can feel your heartbeat, like the fluttering of hummingbird wings. If you’re going to pass out during your confession, you’re going to kill Osamu for it.

Behind you, the door opens and two more students step out. Osamu looks at them and back at you and you nod, point down the hallway. “Let’s take a walk?”

There’s a broom closet not far down and you slip inside only to regret it seconds later. There’s barely enough space for the two of you, his breath washing over you as you try to focus on the words you need to say. Out loud, so he can hear them too.

“I want to beat you.” You can hear him snort, but you keep your gaze on your hands. You won’t be able to speak if you look into his eyes. “But you’re also really funny and caring and cute, in a way. I could see myself, I mean, I already, you know-”

“What about Tsumu?” He asks, voice strangely hoarse.

“What about him?”

“Don’t you like him more? You don’t feel the need to beat him every two seconds, right?”

You roll your eyes and groan.

“Seriously? The best thing about Atsumu is that he looks kinda like you.”

If you had wanted to say more - you didn’t, but you hate letting anyone else have the last word - it leaves your mind the second his lips press onto yours. 

Your mind’s not yet caught up, but your body is, hands dragging through his hair to pull him closer, to marvel at the softness of it - what conditioner is he using? - to have him a little closer.

His hands are on your hip, your back, roam over your shoulders, leaving warm trails and goosebumps behind.

Then there’s bright light and a shrill shriek and you burst away from each other only to face one of your teachers.

“What? The indecency! During an exam no less! Detention! Detention!” Her garbled words don’t make much sense, but the last word you understand.

Osamu sends you a look, his eyes speaking of little guilt and a promise to continue this latter. You can’t help but feel the same.

-

As it turns out, Detention automatically overrules your exceptional Exam marks. Neither of you wins the internship. Neither of you cares. 

Osamu had applied to an Onigiri shop not far from the school as a second option and with your last name you have no trouble securing an internship with a well-known nutritionist for Pro Athletes. 

Your father is not happy about your change in dreams, but when you explain the earning capacity of this position, and the business plan you’re already halfway through making, your excitement swaps over.

Your mother, as usual, barely listens. But you take it in stride, her usual droning on about a recipe she’s working on, by thinking about how in less than an hour, you’ll see Osamu again.

-

“You guys owe me.” Atsumu declares during Movie night. He’s perched on the edge of the couch, the last piece of the Pizza in his hands. “I’m talking about food for life.”

“We could have done it without you,” Osamu insists, arm around you, face nuzzled into your hair. He pretends he’s watching the movie, but you know better. He’s been thinking about the cheese crackers in your pantry for hours.

“If I hadn’t pulled you out in the rain to talk things through, you wouldn’t have gotten sick and your girlfriend wouldn’t have made Oyaku for you! That’s enough reason for you to love me forever!”

“If you hadn’t interfered he wouldn’t have had to think we were dating instead.” You point out and dig your hands into Osamu’s grip on your arms, moving away from him.

“Babe, what-” He starts but you nod in the direction of your pantry. “Get the crackers. I can’t watch you any longer.”

“Really?” His face lights up like a child in front of a Christmas tree. It’s worth the ridiculous price you paid for the crackers.

“Really.”

He kisses you and the moment could be perfect. But there’s still Atsumu, fake gagging in the background.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[totalswag]

Hi you! I was thinking about actress!y/n is in a ceremony and Drew is filming of obx s4, they're both so busy in their film industry, that they miss each other terribly that they kept contacting in messages and calls,

(especially him, who is very proud of her, who would like to be by her side even if she tells him to keep working on the set of obx, that she wouldn't want to disturb him. Like they both put up with each other so much they love each other)

that they haven't had time to talk to each other much, they want to meet up face to face again for once, so she decides to visit him as a little surprise to see him again in Charleston

surprise visit on set — DREW STARKEY

authors note thank for the request lovie! i have a few requests that i will work on or currently working on. all the love you guys have been showing me lately is absolutely amazing, i couldn't thank you lovies anymore. halfway to 1k too!!!

summary surprising drew on set after months of not seeing each other.

warnings cuteness thats all

masterlist

Being in a relationship where you both act and are continuously busy filming is difficult, but there is always time and space to see one other when you take a break from filming.

Drew and you began dating in 2021, after he completed season two of his show, Outer Banks. You met through mutual friends at a gathering and hit it off right away.

Outer Banks season four is presently in production, which means Drew is in Charleston filming. It's been about two months since you last saw each other, and you miss each other a lot.

You were on the red carpet on the premiere of your new movie. As you went through the crowd, cameras flashed and captured every moment. In the back of your head, you couldn't stop thinking about Drew and how much you miss him.

A young woman called your name where interviews stood infront of cameras waiting for you and your cast mates to interact. You smile with a kind wave, walking over.

“Miss, Y/N, "I must say you look absolutely stunning tonight in this dress you're wearing," she says, praising you from top to bottom.

"Thank you so much; it means a lot to me, and I'm glad I chose to wear this dress tonight," you giggle, smoothing your hands over your sides.

The interviewer asks you a few questions on both the film and your character. You were grateful to be asked these questions because you had worked so hard on set.

"Before we part ways, noticed your boyfriend, Drew Starkey, is filming season four for Outer Banks. How is that going, do you know?" She asks politely.

"We haven't seen each other in a while, but we text every day," you place the front strands behind your ear, "he said everything is going well on set and he can't wait for fans to see," you explain, smiling before saying goodbye.

You just hopped on a plane to Charleston to surprise Drew. You secretly organized this trip because you miss Drew and want to spend time with him. You can't wait to be in his arms again.

With all of your free time, you decided to pay Drew a visit and meet the rest of the cast, whom you consider friends as well.

When the plane landed, you walked down the stairs to find Maddie, Madison, and Carlacia waiting for you beside the car, holding two posters designed specifically for you. You took out your phone and started recording them as you came closer.

"Finally back with my hot bitches," you exclaim, extending your arms for a group hug.

"How long has it been since we saw you last?" Madison asks, "I don't know, but it's been too long," and then grabs your suitcase and places it in the trunk with your other belongings.

Everyone knows about you coming except for Drew. The look on his face will be priceless and unforgettable. Knowing you, you might cry.

A few hours go by, you left early with the girls to set since they are filming their scenes first. You were able to hid in Drew's trailer on the couch in the corner where he won't see you when he enters.

Drew's reaction was clearly visible on your phone. Hearing his voice get closer filled your tummy with butterflies. Taking a deep breath as you heard the doorknob turn.

"What time do you want me to get back on set again?" You hear him say this while the door is still open and you have no view of him.

"Okay, that sounds good; I'm going to take a quick nap," he says before entering his trailer.

His figure enters the trailer and turns right, with his back to you. When he turns around, all he sees is the love of his life in the corner, wearing the most beautiful smile that makes him fall harder each time. He can't believe you're standing in front of him now.

"Please tell me I'm dreaming right now and you're a vision," Drew blurts out, placing both hands over his head to digest what's going on in his mind.

"Don't think I'm a vision baby," you giggle, getting off the couch, "so are you gonna give me a kiss or stand there handsome?" You make amusing gestures. 

"Oh I'ma kiss you alright," he quickly responds, taking you in his arms, lifting you up with his arms; you wrap your legs around his waist.

You two remain like this for a full minute, taking up the sensation of being together. You place kisses all over Drew's face, making him giggle.

"I've missed you so much; seeing you now and seeing your beautiful face in person makes me so happy. Drew expresses himself meaningfully: "I fucking love you so much baby."

The tears come down your face, Drew's quickly to wipe them.

"I can't explain the emotions I'm feeling right now, but to sum it up, being in your arms again, hearing your voice, touching you, makes me want to not leave you."

Drew helped you get to your feet and led you to the couch. You inform him you have a surprise trip planned; he assumed you wouldn't see each other until next month. Drew gave you an update on how filming has gone, etc.

The past four days has been wonderful. You went onto set, met up with the crew and cast, beach, shopping, drinking, went out to dinner, etc.

Talked about the movie premiere and how your movie turned out after you watched it.

It's a lovely night in Charleston. The sun had just set, which was breathtaking from the view at dinner. Drew and you were strolling out of a restaurant holding hands, laughing at each other's jokes.

"Oh my gosh is that Y/N and Drew?" A faint voice from across the street causes you both to turn your heads at the same time, filled with curiosity.

"I suppose I am dreaming right now. I love you two so much and you've helped me so much, I can't thank you enough," the young girl confesses, struggling to fight back tears, "my name is Skylar."

Your heart warmed at Skylar's sweet comments. You and Drew instantly drew her into a group hug. Skylar wept with happiness. 

"Thank you for your love and support. We're both glad we could support you through your difficult periods in life, and we hope you'll keep fighting. Would you want a picture? Drew speaks with genuine sincerity, holding her hand and maintaining her composure.

After talking for a time, you took a few photos with Skyalr before going your separate ways. More fans have approached you two since your arrival. It's always good to meet supporters.

"How about we grab ourselves snacks from the gas station for a movie night and cuddle all night then possibly have a little fun" Drew implies with a hint a flirtatious about the having fun part.

You let a yelp when he squeezed your sides, leaning back against his body.

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea to me" you shrug, smiling.

Drew sighs and wraps his arms around your neck, "I'm glad you took the time to come here. I missed you so much and am finally able to be with you. I'm extremely proud of all of your hard work and your new movie. "I love you, baby."

"I love you more my sweet boy, best thing that's ever happen to me."

my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.

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[sl-ut]

new years eve

more college!abby

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE PUBLISHED A WHILE AGO, BUT LIKE I MENTIONED BEFORE, A LOT OF SHIT CAME UP AND DIDN’T LET ME FINISH ANYTHING THAT I’VE BEEN WORKING ON. TYSM FOR YOUR PATIENCE, AND ENJOY!

also tysm to @princesssmars for giving me permission to steal her idea lol ily babe.

pairing: college!abby anderson x fem!reader

description: abby invites y/n on her friends’ annual new years ski trip! five days of uninterrupted fun at a private chalet with abby, her friends, her ex boyfriend, and his current girlfriend who seems to have some kind of vendetta against them both. 

warnings: UNEDITED, smut (not a lot tbh), swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use, owen is really mean to reader, homophobia, a lot of sweet little moments between abby and reader

words: 7.4K

date posted: 07/01/24

Y/n knew she wasn’t exactly the most welcome on this trip, they didn’t even try to hide it. The only exception to this would be, of course, Nora, who’d been the one to set her up with Abby in the first place, and Manny, who genuinely seemed like the only one who didn’t seem bothered by her presence at all times. Not wanting to impose on a seemingly very strict tradition, Y/n initially declined her girlfriend’s offer to spend New Years Eve together in Aspen, which didn’t go over as well with Abby as she had expected.

“They don’t mind, really.” She tried to reassure her, only to be met with a knowing look, “Okay, a few of them feel that we shouldn’t bring people outside of our friend group, but think about it; Owen and Mel are both going, Leah is bringing Jordan…” Then came the ultimatum of, “No, if you don’t go, I don’t go.”

The threat was more than what Abby’s words even said. The cabin belonged to Abby’s grandparents, and were more than enthusiastic about their sole grandchild using it with her friends over the holidays, but were stern with the condition that Abby was not to let them go up and destroy it. To summarise, if Abby didn’t go, nobody did, and Y/n was certain that her friends would hate her less if she joined them than if she caused the entire trip to be cancelled.

So there she was on the twenty-ninth of December, tightly belted into the front seat of Abby’s Bronco on the road to Aspen. The drive wasn’t terrible, only a few hours from Abby’s childhood home just outside of Salt Lake city, though Abby made it sort of enjoyable by making a road-trip playlist and barely taking her large hand away from her girlfriend’s thigh throughout the remainder of the journey. 

The chalet was more than Y/n even had the ability to imagine. It looked like it was straight out of a movie; high ceilings, wooden panelling lining the entire interior, large windows looking out over a snow-covered valley, all that was missing was for the pair of them to snuggle up together in front of the wide stone fireplace, which was bound to happen at some point over the holiday. As she ran her fingertips over the glazed butcher block counters, she was thankful that the others wouldn’t be arriving until the next day, giving them more time to fulfil the fantasies that had been racing through her mind since setting foot inside the chalet. 

Abby was eager to give the full tour, looking delightfully in-place in her tight jeans and cream coloured cable knit sweater. She left no room or corner alone, using little anecdotes and stories from her childhood to help her feel more at home, and finishing by explaining exactly how she would fuck her in each and every room. Y/n laughed and brushed it off in the moment, but came to realise that she was dead serious when she could barely move her legs to crawl out of bed the next morning.

The sweet bliss was finally interrupted by the rest of the crew making their arrivals. First came Leah and Jordan, who immediately rushed to the next biggest room and then made their way to the jacuzzi on the deck. Then came Manny and Nora, who couldn’t seem to get to the kitchen fast enough, before finally, Mel and Owen quietly made their way in, offering silent greetings to their friends before going straight to their bedroom, which didn’t seem to bode well with Mel, who’s complaints carried through the entire ventilation system of the house. 

The others seemed to have no patience for their drama, all clearly picking up on the fact that they must have fought the entire drive, as well as the thick tension that filled the room whenever they were both present. Instead, they all gathered in the kitchen for a late lunch and began pouring drinks, loud laughter overwhelming the hushed argument escaping the vent. Y/n was a little surprised to see that even Abby had reached for a second beer, the merriment in the kitchen and the overall excitement for the holiday seeming more important to her in that moment than her otherwise strict fitness regimen, though she really didn’t mind. In fact, she sort of liked the way that she had been looser than she normally would have been, gliding her hands across Y/n’s body without care, laughing along carelessly to jokes that she normally would’ve only chuckled at. She was more open with the group, and made sure to keep Y/n involved in the conversation even when the others talked over top of her. 

The atmosphere felt warm, like they were spending time with their closest family members. Manny showed off his mixology skills, which were mediocre at best, while Nora and Abby whipped up a luxurious rendition of pasta with a side salad, all of which seemed to disappear in a matter of minutes, leaving barely enough for both Mel and Owen to split between themselves once they finally re-emerged from their shared bedroom. 

The sun was beginning to set early, thanks to the shorter days of winter, leaving poor Manny no other option but to wait until morning until he could finally hit the slopes. Instead, he found interest in offering constant refills to everyone in order to, as he put it, boost morale. Abby had taken the initiative to cut herself off, wanting to make sure she still had her wits about her while also being able to relax, and made sure to warn Y/n about Manny’s drinks.

“He calls himself a mixologist,” She’d whispered into her girlfriend’s ear, “But I’d say he’s more of a wizard. He makes drinks so strong, but somehow covers up the taste of the liquor.”

That was the first and final time that Y/n ignored a warning from Abby, soon enough finding herself stumbling out the door in just her bathing suit, ears completely deaf to everyone’s questions of concern for the nearly naked girl in the cold weather as she clambered into the jacuzzi. She grinned, watching as Abby followed closely behind her, along with Manny, Nora, and Leah.

She snuggled up against Abby’s side, relishing in the weight of her thick bicep around her shoulder as she only half-listened to whatever Nora was trying to fill her in on, and babbling on about some nonsense that no one really had much interest in hearing, but they all listened in and responded as if she were telling the most interesting tale to ever exist. 

Once Leah and Nora took over the conversation, she turned to stare up at her girlfriend with glossy eyes, grinning stupidly at the mere sight of her face.

“What?” Abby laughed when she finally took notice.

Y/n shrugged, answering as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Nothing, just thinking about how much I love you.”

Abby’s already flushed cheeks darkened, but she was quick to press a longing kiss to her forehead and return the sentiment lovingly. 

“No,” Y/n frowned, “You don’t understand, I love you. I love how smart you are, I love how you make me laugh, I love how you make me feel loved, I love how you make me feel.”

Abby glanced around at the others to ensure that they weren’t overhearing this intimate conversation. Thankfully, Manny was too wrapped up in making sure that Nora was correctly recounting the time that he successfully hooked up with his TA and bumped his grade up.

“I love your abs, and your big beefy arms.” Y/n continued, leaning her head back against the bulging muscle to emphasise her point, “I love your fingers, too. And of course I love your face, and your pretty eyes, and your nose–God I love your nose, I just wanna sit on it–”

All conversation seemed to stop as the patio door creaked open, all heads turning in surprise to see Owen standing in the doorway, swimming trunks hanging low on his hips and a towel slung over his shoulder. 

“Room for one more?”

Manny was the first to break the silence, “Of course, man. We all thought you guys were just calling it for the night.”

The blond furrowed his brow, “What, you guys really thought you could replace me so easily?”

The words were so obviously aimed at his ex-girlfriend and the girl curled into her side, and if she hadn’t been so intoxicated, this probably would have been enough to send Y/n off the rails when it came to Owen. Instead, Abby took the reins in order to diffuse the situation. 

“Are you gonna get in or are you gonna keep on bitching, Moore?” 

He looked equally as pleased and displeased with her dual-sided tone, both wanting to keep things light while also warning him not to start anything. 

“Yeah, yeah,” He tossed his towel to the side and climbed in, taking a seat next to Leah and directly across from Abby. “Whatever.”

The group sat in silence for a few moments before Y/n finally chimed in, “Where’s Mel? Is she coming down?”

He seemed to be visibly annoyed by either the question or by her, probably both. “She’s upstairs, not feeling too well.”

“Oh,” She nodded along, “That’s too bad, I think she really would’ve liked whatever drink Manny just made me.”

Manny grinned at the credit, “I call it, dulce peligro.”

Nora snorted, “Sweet danger? That’s a little on the nose, even for you, don’t you think?”

“Hey, when you start mixing up drinks like that, then you get a say, ‘kay?”

Owen’s stern tone cut through the playful nature of their bickering, “Not likely. None of us really come up here and get sloshed anymore, I guess we’ve all just matured past that.”

Embarrassment crept up her throat, causing tears to spring into her eyes from his clear disapproval of her current state. Nora and Leah shared an uncomfortable stare, both seemingly ready to grab Abby before she could make a move against him, her disbelief and anger so clear on her face. 

“Well I definitely haven’t,” Manny chuckled awkwardly, “Besides, the holidays are the only time of the year where it's actually encouraged to get shitfaced.”

“Yeah,” Nora jumped in, “The night’s still young, and most of us probably aren’t even gonna remember tonight.”

Their words had obviously been a mere attempt at bringing comfort to the younger girl, whose face betrayed the insecurity that was very rapidly eating away at her drunken confidence from the inside out. Her eyes had become even glossier, and her heaving breaths made it clear that she was on the verge of tears. 

“No,” She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, “He’s right, I think it’s time I put myself to bed.”

Abby grabbed her hand as she stood up, carefully stepping over her girlfriend’s legs and onto the steps that lead out onto the deck, “Hey, hey, don’t go yet. You’re having fun.”

Y/n could tell she was trying to keep her cool, not wanting to put the other three of her friends in the position of hearing her and Owen fighting once again. She shook her head, stepping out onto the pine floor and wrapping herself in the fluffy white robe that Abby had brought out for her, “I’m tired, I might go take a shower and then just go to bed.”

Abby nodded, standing from her own seat and moving to climb out after her, “Alright, I’m gonna hit the hay too, guys.”

“Aww,” Nora whined, “Guys don’t go yet.”

“Stay,” Y/n turned to Abby, offering a weak smile, “I’m just… tired. You don’t have to come to bed yet.”

“Let me walk you up,” She was practically begging at this point, wanting to comfort her girlfriend when she was so obviously upset. 

“C’mon Abs, she’s a big girl. I’m sure she can go to sleep without being tucked in for just one night.”

Abby scowled at him, turning to him with intent as she growled at him, “What the hell is your problem?”

It was true, as bad as Owen usually was when Y/n was around, he was usually only passive aggressive, but now he was just being downright mean. If Abby hadn’t already gone to hell and back trying to convince her friend to let Y/n come (even though she really didn’t give them a choice), Y/n wasn’t about to let the whole vacation be ruined by her pride, choosing to allow Owen’s words to slide rather than biting back as she usually would. 

“Abs, it’s okay,” Y/n tried again. 

“No I don’t think-”

Nora was the next person to step out of the tub, “You know, I’m starting to get a little pruny anyways, so why don’t I help her to bed?”

Abby appeared annoyed at Nora’s intrusion, but allowed her to pull Y/n away from the situation and back into the chalet, leaving Leah and Manny to face the intense staredown between her and Owen before they, too, fled the scene, allowing the real fighting to start.

Hardly an hour had passed since Y/n had curled herself into bed, not even bothering to get herself ready at all aside from removing her bathing suit and snuggling back into the fluffy robe, leaving her surprised when her light sleep was broken by the feeling of the mattress sinking next to her. Abby looked tired, irritation clear on her face as she slumped against the headboard with a quiet sigh. Her eyes softened as she turned to glance at her girlfriend, an apologetic smile crossing her features when their eyes met. 

“Sorry baby, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“‘S okay,” Y/n’s words were slurred with sleep, “‘M sorry too.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Owen’s just being a…he’s being a stupid prick.”

Y/n pushed herself up, scooching across the mattress to snuggle into her girlfriend’s side as sighing at the comforting weight of her arm around her shoulder, “I know but… I don’t know. I guess I can see why he’s annoyed. I’m not one of you guys, I know how I would feel if one of my friends invited their partners to join our traditions.”

“It’s not even about that, it’s–” she cut herself off, a deep frown cutting into her cheeks, “It’s nothing. Let’s just forget it.” She hugged Y/n tighter to her chest, pressing a long kiss to the crown of her head. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Y/n lifted her head, concern filling her at her girlfriend’s tone, “Is something wrong? Did something happen with Owen?”

Abby looked alarmed, “What–No, no. Nothing happened. I promise.”

“Good,” Y/n nuzzled her head back into her shoulder, “‘Cause I’ll kick his ass.”

Abby snorted, “I’m sure you would. Now go back to sleep, I’m gonna go take a shower and I’ll be back.”

Y/n whined, “Are you punishing me or something?”

Abby cocked her head in confusion.

“No invitation?”

A knowing smirk appeared on the blonde’s lips, “I don’t know if you know what you’re asking for here, baby.”

Y/n pushed herself away from Abby, crawling to stand at the foot of the bed as she slowly backed up towards the bathroom, hips swaying seductively as she untied her robe and let it slowly glide down her arms until it hit the floor with a soft thud, leaving her bare for her girlfriend’s viewing pleasure. She bit her lip, fluttering her lashes as she whispered a response, “I think I do.”

Abby grinned, moving faster than Y/n’s brain could even register to race towards her and haul her body over her shoulder as she rushed into the large ensuite. She reached the shower, turning the water on to allow it to heat up for a few moments before she placed her girlfriend onto the marble countertop. 

Y/n’s brain swirled with pleasure as the seconds ticked by, the room slowly heating up as steam curled around the glass wall of the insanely oversized shower, feelings only heightened from the bit of alcohol still in her system and her girlfriend’s hands and lips roaming around her body. 

“Abs,” she gasped out as her fingers massaged her inner thigh, “I think the water’s ready.”

Despite her previous flurry of attention, Abby seemed to have settled down the moment that they set foot in the shower, relishing in the casual intimacy of carefully washing each other’s hair, lathering one another in a foamy vanilla scented body wash, and just holding each other under the hot water. After all was said and done, Abby pulled her back against her chest, one arm wrapping around her waist and the other curling around her shoulders to hold her in place. Y/n leaned her head back, staring up at the taller blonde with droopy eyelids. 

“I love you too.”

“Huh?”

Y/n giggled, “I never said it back earlier, so I am now.”

Abby shook her head, leaning down to press a kiss to her soft lips, “I love you more.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you to the moon and back ten times.”

“Well I love you times infinity!”

“Infinity?” Abby whistled, tightening her arms around her, “Don’t know if I can beat that.”

Scoffing in mock offence, Y/n turned her head to sink her teeth into the meaty bulge of Abby’s bicep, just biting hard enough to leave the faintest of teeth marks in her burning skin.

“Hey!” Abby grunted, twirling her around to face her, “I bring you on this nice vacation, I make you dinner, I drive you around, I rock your world whenever you ask,” her face grew closer with every statement, “And this is the thanks I get?”

Y/n squealed at the feeling of her fingers digging into her sides, leaning up to press their foreheads together, “I suppose you’re right, I’m sorry.” Her hands moved from their places on her biceps, gliding up her slick skin to her neck, then down over her chest, one finding purchase on one of her toned breasts, the other pressing into her firm abdomen, massaging the protruding muscles appreciatively, “Can I make it up to you?”

Abby didn’t respond, instead gripping the back of her head and slamming their lips together, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, though the fight was over within seconds as Abby forced her girlfriend into submission. She allowed her to press her against the wall, her shorter frame pressing against her so tightly that it would seem they were connected, then seemingly made the move to flip them around until Y/n pulled back.

“Nuh-uh, I’m making it up to you, remember?” Her hand slid even lower, resting against her lower belly just above the thick patch of blonde curls between her legs. 

“Baby, you don’t have to–oh,” Her words came to a halt as her fingers grazed against her clit. 

It was a fight that they had on the regular, Abby always feeling like she had to be on the giving end, and not the receiving. To be quite fair, there was never a time where Abby didn’t finish during sex with Y/n, but she seemed to be determined to only allow it happen either against the harness of her strap or directly against Y/n’s own centre. Hell, they’d been seeing each other for almost two months before she even let Y/n go down on her for the first time. She was a giver, and tended to find pleasure in giving, but was growing to enjoy the aspect of receiving just as much.

“Just let me,” Y/n whispered against the wet skin of her neck, lips pressing against her jugular with an indescribable softness. “Can I? Please?”

After finally receiving the green light, Y/n wasted no time in dropping to her knees, nudging Abby’s feet apart as she slid her hands over her thick thighs, lips and tongue gliding along the trembling muscles until the tip of her nose was met with the coarse hair covering her pubis. 

A soft grunt fell from Abby’s lips at the contact, chuckling at the feeling of her girlfriend’s nose prodding even further inwards, poking at her clit.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Y/n murmured, mouth barely parting from the skin of her inner thigh as she spoke, carefully scooching in closer as Abby complied, even slinging one of her calves over her shoulder to offer better access. “Thank you.”

Abby laughed, “Look at you, on your knees for me and still so polite. Such a good girl.”

Y/n moaned at the words, finally moving her mouth to drag her tongue up the entire length of Abby’s cunt, whining at the taste of Abby’s dripping nectar. She twirled her tongue around her engorged clit, dragging the muscle over the bundle of nerves, encouraged by Abby’s moans and the grip she had on the back of her head. 

“Right there,” The blonde gasped, bucking her hips against her face, pressing her hand even more firmly against the base of her skull. “Yeah, right fucking there. Shit.”

Then the real moaning started. What had begun as muffled grunts had quickly developed into breathy cries of pleasure, the only words falling from her lips being drawn out curses or punchy words of praise. 

Y/n prodded her tongue around the opening of her core, poking inside shallowly, hardly able to slip inside with how tightly she was clenching. Chuckling, Y/n drew her middle finger against the opening, “Relax for me, Abby.”

At her words, the muscles of her core almost immediately relaxed, easily accepting the intrusion of her finger with eagerness, walls clamping down as she added her ring finger. She pulled her face away for a moment, pumping her fingers in and out with precision as her fingertips easily found purchase against the spongy flesh that caused her eyes to roll back in her skull. 

Y/n grinned, pressing her lips against the thigh that had rested over her shoulder. She would never be able to recover from this view that she was so rarely able to see; Abby’s head tilted back, eyes hooded and lips parted as she whimpered out soft praises, small breasts heaving with each breath and her nipples pebbled with arousal. There was something about having somebody so big and strong at her disposal that she simply couldn’t get enough of, knowing that in a simple movement, Abby could have her at her disposal before she could even protest, the idea that someone like Abby, who took such pride in her dominance, was willing to give it up just for her. 

Feeling the tell-tale fluttering of her inner walls, Y/n quickened the pace of her fingers and returned her mouth to its rightful place on her clit, sucking and licking so gently in comparison to the fast pace of her fingers. 

Abby came with a shout, hand forcing Y/n’s face impossibly closer to her core as she continued to pump her fingers, fucking her through the orgasm until she felt her walls slacken. She removed her fingers, and with one last kiss to her inner thigh, she pulled away. Abby moved her leg, reaching down and yanking her girlfriend up to slam their lips together, whimpering at the musky taste of her own cum. 

“God, I’m gonna marry you,” Abby murmured against her mouth, drawing soft giggles from both of them.

“Not if I marry you first.”

Abby rolled her eyes as she reached past Y/n, turning the water off and scooping her up in a single movement, “Everything’s gotta be a competition with you, huh?”

Y/n giggled, hooking her ankles at the base of Abby’s spine and wrapping her arms around her neck, “Well, not everything.”

“Yeah? So you’re not gonna try and fight me when I have my way with you?”

Y/n kissed her again, “As long as you don’t make me wait, I’m impatient.”

Abby tossed her on the mattress, completely unconcerned about the fact that she was still dripping wet from the shower. She crossed the room, opening the top drawer of the dresser and fishing around for a moment before she found her target. Y/n watched in awe as Abby skillfully slid the harness up her legs, tightening it just enough that it wouldn’t slip as she turned, revealing the thick blue dildo hanging from her pelvis. 

“Why don’t you just lay there and be a good girl for me, heh?”

When Y/n woke up the next morning, she was stiff, but who wouldn’t be after being bent in every imaginable position for over an hour? 

It was nearly twelve o’clock by the time her eyes finally cracked open, and she was disappointed, but not surprised, to find that she was alone in the bed. She was dressed in only one of Abby’s lacrosse sweatshirts, and tucked snugly into the blankets and a note set neatly on the pillow next to her own.

Went out to the slopes, be back soon. Love you.

Y/n sighed, tossing the note aside as she glanced around the room, noticing that Abby must have tidied up a bit before she left, everything that had been knocked over or thrown across the room in the early hours of the morning having been set neatly back in place. Y/n would have preferred to stay in bed a while longer, but her throbbing headache demanded that she go downstairs and consume as much coffee and aspirin as possible without needed medical attention (luckily for her, she has a sexy pre-med girlfriend on standby). 

After cleaning herself up some and tidying her hair (and cursing herself for not doing her entire hair routine while it was wet) and sliding a pair of sweatpants up her legs, she shuffled down the wooden staircase to face the few stragglers that stayed behind. 

In the kitchen, she found Nora, who seemed like she had just returned, still dressed in her snowpants as she stood at the kitchen counter stirring her coffee. The dark-haired girl turned her head at the sound of Y/n coming down the stairs, a grin appearing on her face at the sight of the sleepy girl. 

“Morning sunshine!” She chuckled, glancing over at the large grandfather clock quickly,  “You just won me ten bucks, gorgeous. Manny said you’d be out for the count until the afternoon.”

Y/n raised her eyebrows, shaking her head as she made her own cup of coffee and swallowed two tablets of aspirin. She took up one of the tall stools opposite Nora, quickly taking a mouthful of her drink. 

“You come back alone?” 

Nora shrugged, “Yeah, once Abby and Manny start making everything a competition I count myself out.” 

Y/n nodded her head, a knowing smile crossing her features. She, too, has fallen victim to the pissing contests between those two. 

“Was it just you three?”

She pursed her lips, slowly shaking her head, “No, uh, Owen joined kinda last minute. Hey, did Abby tell you anything about last night? Manny said they sort of went after it after we left, but he and Leah kinda made a run for it.”

“No, she didn’t,” Y/n frowned, “She seemed a little worked up when she came to bed, but she didn’t really say much.”

A smirk appeared on Nora’s lips, “Yeah, we all heard how worked up she was.”

The blood drained from Y/n’s face, realisation dawning on her face. She thought she had made some kind of effort to keep herself quiet the night before, but to be fair, she had been intoxicated and Abby had made her come three times with just her tongue before even thinking of putting the strap to work.

“Gotta say, I never pictured Abby being a little freaky, I never even would have imagined some of the shit she was saying to you. It had me blushing.”

Y/n buried her face in her hands, wincing at the burning temperature of her skin. Had they all heard it? She’d been so worried about imposing herself on this trip that she hadn’t even considered the consequences of any alone time that she and Abby would have together. She supposed it was bound to happen; The chalet wasn’t that big, and the vents connected every room together, and even knowing that every other person on the vacation had witnessed their very active and intense sex life, she couldn’t find it within herself to regret it at all. The light purple bruises on her neck were a testimony to the way her night ended, and with Owen around, she would proudly wear them. 

The front door swung open, the entire house immediately being filled with the energetic and boisterously loud voice of Manny, obviously still hyped up from his seemingly long session on the slopes. When his gaze fell on Y/n, he hurriedly glanced down at his watch, scowling as he read the time as 11:59, indicating that he had lost the bet. His disappointment was not long-lasting, however, grinning mischievously and wiggling his brows at her as Abby appeared behind her, arms resting on the counter on either side of her body and caging her in, skin cold to the touch through her thin long-sleeve shirt. 

“Jesus, Abigail,” He whistled, “What did you do to her? The poor girl looks like she got mugged.”

“Fuck off,” The blonde groaned, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend’s head and chuckling as Y/n raised her middle finger in his direction. 

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Manuel.” She hummed, leaning back against Abby’s chest. 

Manny seemed surprised at her bold response, turning to the taller girl with a smirk as he continued to tease them. 

“That’s enough Manny, I already gave her hell for interrupting my beauty sleep,” Nora added, taking a long sip from her mug.

“Please,” Abby rested her chin on the top of Y/n’s head, “I’ve lived with both of you before, I can’t even count how many times I had to sleep with earplugs in.”

Nora shrugged, “What goes around, comes around I suppose.”

Abby’s body stiffened when Owen appeared next to Manny, his blue eyes narrowing in on the pair across the counter. It didn’t surprise her in the least that Owen would be bothered by their late night activities; Abby had once disclosed to her early on in their sexual relationship that she had very little experience in anything beyond the basics. With Owen, things were quite vanilla, and there was little said and there was almost no experimentation, so it would make sense that he felt a bit dejected at the idea that the woman he was still so obviously in love with was now in a much healthier and more adventurous relationship with someone else. 

Abby squeezed Y/n’s shoulders, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “I think I’m gonna go up to the room for a bit, maybe watch a movie and take a nap, if you wanna join me.”

Y/n nodded immediately, excited at the idea of going back to bed, hopping off of the stool and letting Abby lead her upstairs by the hand. 

She curled up in the bed, constructing a nest of pillows and blankets on top of the comforter and tucking herself in under a lighter fleece blanket. Abby appeared out of the bathroom, now dressed in a pair of sweats and a tight-fitting t-shirt, her hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. She chuckled when she spotted the structure that had been erected on top of the bed. 

“What movie did you pick?” She asked, carefully climbing in next to her girlfriend and snuggling up against her.”

Y/n glanced up at her, “The Holiday. Thought it was fitting.”

A few minutes into the film, Y/n could hardly even hold her eyes open, rolling over to lay on her belly and nuzzle her face into the crook of Abby’s neck. She glanced up at her girlfriend, admiring the way that the flickering colours from the screen were being projected on her face, light catching on her features and causing her rosy cheeks to glow. Abby turned her head, staring down at her with a fond smile. 

“What?” She asked, fingers gracing Y/n’s cheek softly. 

“Just looking,” She mumbled, “You’re so pretty.”

Abby scoffed, “Says you.”

“Says me,” Y/n agreed, “If anyone else says that, I’ll kill them. Except for your grandmother.”

Abby laughed, “Yes, I would prefer if you didn’t kill Nana, thank you.”

Y/n pressed her lips to the underside of her jaw, “Is everything good between you and Owen?”

“You want everything to be good between us?” Abby raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged, “You know how I feel about Owen, but he’s your friend, and I don’t wanna be the cause of some drama between you if I can help it. Nora said you guys had a fight last night.”

Abby sighed, her arms tightening around her girlfriend’s figure, “I don’t like the way he talks about you. The thing is, when I broke up with him, I was honest with him and he seemed to be okay with it. But since you and I started dating, he seems to be bothered by it. Last night, he was drunk, and he said some pretty nasty stuff about us, mostly about me, honestly.”

“So what, he’s mad that you’ve moved on with someone else, or he’s mad that you’ve moved on with a girl?”

“Not sure,” Abby shook her head, “I don’t–I just wanna move past it. I don’t care what he thinks, and neither should you. If it comes down to you and him, I'm picking you every time.”

Y/n leaned up, nudging Abby’s curved nose with her own before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips, “I love you.”

Abby smiled, kissing her again, “I love you too.”

This time, when Y/n woke up, she was still curled tightly against Abby’s chest. She was thankful, smiling softly as she nuzzled closer to her warmth and simply just laid there contentedly until a loud banging sounded from their bedroom door. 

“Wake up, you lazy perras,” Manny shouted through the wooden door, “It’s time to party!”

Y/n had quickly come to realise over the few days at the chalet that Abby’s friends took New Year’s Eve very seriously. Her eyes had grown three sizes at the sight of the mountain of booze that they had all collected to share amongst the group on the one night. Each of them had expressed their excitement for the holiday, even Mel, who had hardly interacted with her the whole time they’d been there. 

It was torture to pull themselves out of the little nest they’d made, but they knew that Manny would be back in a matter of minutes if they weren’t out of bed soon, and he would be much less friendly the second time. Taking a few moments to wake themselves up, both girls finally crawled out of bed and began to get themselves ready for the evening, knowing that Leah, Nora, and Mel would be wanting to take and post pictures from the little party on any social media platform that they could get their hands on.

They were both offered drinks immediately upon entering the kitchen, discovering a large bowl of punch sitting in the middle of the large island, apparently having been a concoction made by Jordan and Manny, which became quite obvious once Y/n took a small drink and discovered that it was probably closer in form to a toxic chemical than any kind of enjoyable beverage, but for the sake of the holiday, she continued to take small sips of the drink, quickly followed up by a much more enjoyable Diet Coke.

They spent the evening playing drinking games, watching movies, and exposing each other’s most embarrassing moments until late in the evening, though Y/n decided to cap herself at the one drink, considering the night she’d had the night before, and instead accepted the edible offered to her by Nora, who had also been put off of liquor by the hangover she’d had that morning. 

Y/n could admit that the small get-together felt much more intimate and enjoyable to her than attending a larger party, as she likely would have done if Abby had not invited her. Even those who did not overly like Y/n seemed glad to have her there, except for Owen, of course. 

Even Mel had entertained some conversations with her and had invited her to jump into some pictures with her and the other girls, the alcohol making her much friendlier than usual. Y/n’s feelings towards Mel were never set in stone. From time to time, she was very nice to her, but the majority of the time, she seemed completely uninterested in her being there. Of course, Y/n could understand it, to a degree; If Abby acted the same way that Owen did when she was around, Y/n would feel the same way, and he apparently hadn’t started acting that way until Y/n came around. 

Y/n couldn’t help but keep a watchful eye on the two figures out on the deck, doing her best to not make it obvious, feeling the need to protect her girlfriend from any more hurt, especially after hearing what sort of things that Owen had said to her the night before. They’d only been out there for about ten minutes after Owen had asked her to talk in private, offering an overly sympathetic look to both Abby and her girlfriend, who’d been reluctant to let her go on her own, especially since he had been drinking quite heavily all evening.

In truth, Owen had immediately apologised for what he’d said the night before, shocking the blonde with his words. Normally, Owen was a proud man, never apologising to anyone unless he knows that it might offer him something in return. 

“Really,” He had cleared his throat, obviously hesitant and uncomfortable, “I’m really sorry. I wouldn’t intentionally do anything to hurt you, it’s just…You don’t know how hard it’s been.”

“Hard?” Abby repeated, “What’s been so hard for you, Owen?”

He scowled, “Seeing you happy, with someone else–with her.” 

She scoffed, “So it is about her. Tell me, if I was dating another man, would you have this issue?”

“Yes!” He looked appalled, “Seriously–how are you trying to turn this into that sorta thing. You know I’m not like that.”

“Do I?” She pressed, “How many times have I heard you use the f slur in passing, or couldn’t stop staring at two girls holding hands in public? You may not realise it all the time, but you are like that, and I can’t just sit back and let you treat someone I love like that.”

He paused, “You love her?”

She nodded.

“I just–I don’t get it. How can you be…you were never like that with me. We were happy, I thought you loved me.”

Abby stared at him incredulously, “I did. Part of me always will, and you know that, but I’m not sure I was ever in love with you.”

That seemed to set him off, “So I was just…what to you? A plaything? An experiment?”

“Owen,” she growled, “You’re the one who started dating someone else only a week after we broke up, and not just anyone, but Mel. The one person who you always told me not to worry about, that you two were just good friends. Now look at you two, you act like an old married couple.”

“I don’t love Mel.” He stated, like it was a blatantly obvious statement. “I love you.”

Abby laughed, pushing herself away from the railing harshly, “You’re drunk, Owen.”

He grabbed her arm, pulling her back into him before she could stomp away, forcing his lips onto hers in a fury of passion. His hand gripped the back of her head, holding her in place as she fought against him. Finally, she sank her teeth into his bottom lip, not relenting until she could taste the iron of his blood and he was forcing her away.

“Fuck!” He swore, reaching up to nurse his bleeding lip, though he was given very little time to recover as Y/n practically flew past Abby and swung her fist into his jaw. He stumbled backwards from the force, flood now running down his chin and neck, “You stupid bitch.”

Abby stepped between the two as he lunged at the shorter of the two girls, shoving him down onto the deck as the others came rushing out after Y/n. She scowled at him, crouching ever so slightly to meet his gaze, “Don’t you ever put your hands on her, or me, ever again.”

She turned to face her girlfriend, hands cradling her now swollen fist and running her thumb over the cracked and bleeding skin over the knuckles, “You okay?”

Y/n lifted her good hand up to swipe at the lip on Abby’s lower lip, tears leaking down her cheeks, “Are you?”

She nodded, pressing her bloody lips to Y/n’s forehead briefly, taking one final look at the man on the floor, who seemed to be in shock and finally realising what he had done, glancing between the two women standing over him, to his friends who all seemed nothing short of disgusted with him, and finally, his girlfriend, who could barely stand to offer him anything more than a fleeting glance. Abby shook her head. She never wanted this, she would have been more than content to keep Owen in her life as a friend, but there was very little that could recover him in her eyes, and she knew that he would never be able to accept her or the woman she loved. She hoped that, at some point in the future, he might come to his senses, but until then, she decided that he would no longer be regarded as one of her best friends, as he previously had been. 

She led her girlfriend back inside, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer before guiding her up the stairs and to their bedroom. Abby pushed her to sit on the edge of the mattress, lowering herself to kneel in front of her. She gingerly pressed the ice to her knuckles, shushing her when she whimpered at the sudden cold.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n whispered, “None of this would’ve happened if I didn’t come on this trip.”

“Stop apologising. It’s no one’s fault but his, for being a homophobic prick, and my own, for putting up with it for so long.”

It was quiet for a moment before a giggle escaped from Y/n’s lips, “I told you I would kick someone’s ass for you.”

“That’s really all you got out of this?” Abby laughed, her radiant smile breaking through her otherwise stony expression.

“That,” Y/n leaned down, “And that I love you.”

“I thought you already knew that.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “I did, but this was my proof that I wasn’t joking about it.”

She leaned down, hands cupping Abby’s defined jaw in her hands, holding her just as softly as one might hold a newborn as she pressed a kiss to her lips. When she pulled back, she glanced at the alarm clock on the dresser, smirking as she pressed another kiss to her lips and mumbled against her.

“Happy New Year, baby.”

[wordsvomit101]

... Lucifer is how Christian Gray believed he is/jk

We already know Lucifer to be THAT guy but this is just a new whole layer and when combine with some info about him and his brothers, we got a pretty interesting case of why he might has a kink for dacryphilia, or how he might, 'allegedly', be a lowkey sadist (not surprising but still give me a gasp when I think about it).

The original source is here, credits to @shyanimeboi and their friend: https://x.com/shyanimeboi/status/1795183592961655077/video/3\

Warnings: Mentions of torture (info from chapter 5 in canon story), 1ncest, sexual content, and some depiction of violence. MNDI

I noticed how he been switching his way of addressing MC from Solomon, to Adam, and to Eve, throughout his chats. And it either a spontaneous things where he group the 3 humans he know the most together and just address MC with them on a whims or it could be something more personal.

The type of unicorn he is talking about is most commonly known in the western folklore, where unicorns are fierce and hostile, and become docile only in the presence of virgins. While occasionally fiction writers have invoked the principle that men can be virgins also (see, e.g. Poul Anderson’s “Honeymouth”), usually, “virgin” implies “girls or women,” and therefore only women who have never had intercourse can tame a unicorn, but it could be also for those that are utterly pure (of heart if not of mind).

So it pretty much confirm it, Lucifer either get freaky in the 0rgy they got going on in Heaven or he get freaky with his brothers, which is weird but compared that to the torture camps and experimental labs on devil children, the possiblities of unhinged millenia old angels banging each others is something I expected but wholely not interested in opening that can of worm.

I would call myself the weird one when I think of some 50 Shades of Gray when I look at this image since in the chat Lucifer seem like a Disney princess:

This part set apart Lucifer and his brothers in a subtle but clear way because unlike how Gabriel and Michael would get into a fight on whether who would get to kill a devil, how Michael would easily commit genocide on an entire race of dragons, and how Raphael would eat his fellow angels for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Lucifer can form a bond with another creature, who would be killed by the trio if he were to show the same attitude as he did with Lucifer. This also reflected how he became Gamigin and Jjok's brother. His normal open-minded aspect is so jarring that when compared to his brothers it stands out like a neon light.

And how he prefers action over words is probably what got him to care for Gamigin, Jjok, and the devils. Devils are honest by nature, and their feelings are worn on their sleeves, with a few exceptions (Leviathan, Orias, etc.), up until now, we rarely see a devil that doesn't commit to their promises or declarations (Satan does bring Minhyeok back from death, Mammon does own Hell's economy, Leviathan live his life perfectly every day for his friends, etc.), in some cases they might really lose limbs or even die for it (in Leraye's event, he broke pieces of his horn to turn them into bullets to protect the city). In a way, he also values genuine actions as proof of one’s character, loyalty, and intentions. Gamigin took him in when Lucifer was a fallen angel and nursed him back to health despite the danger of getting the devil's ire and how much Lucifer rejected his help (and was rude about it too), he persisted and he was consistent in his kindness. Jjok is scared of him, at first, but he still continues to visit and talk to him almost every day while he is in bed, and even begs Satan to not take his "family" away (I will cry again god-).

It also might be an instinct as an angel if he were to compare them to his love for God and how he might find it hard to correct his brothers' mania, where their only purpose in life is to love and worship God, no matter how terrible they become for him. This principle reflects a certain integrity and consistency in him. He expects others to demonstrate their worth through their actions and probably enjoys them trusting him, and he likely holds himself to the same standard (ie, how he becomes a devil and declares to protect Hell, feels guilty for the atrocities his brothers and Heaven have done, how he didn't shut it down and was a part of the problem, etc).

The horse from Hell he is talking about is probably a bicorn (a not very well-known folklore two-horned creature that is a fan of depraved people) or kelpie (a shape-changing aquatic spirit of Scottish legend known for tricking people into riding on them for some malevolent purpose) or just savage beasts of war that need no rider, the counterparts to the unicorn. So his methods of training the unicorn won't work on them.

Now to get back to my point on the switching of the address from Solomon, to Adam, and to Eve. It is just a theory but it could mean something like this:

"Daughter of Solomon": Used to express a personal or significant connection between them, possibly based on MC's predecessor's wisdom and who is known to be king of peace and someone who is loved by God and the devils.

"Daughter of Adam": Highlights common humanity (Adam represents humanity as the first human created according to biblical texts) while pointing out unique or odd characteristics.

"Daughter of Eve": Emphasizes femininity or human traits related to curiosity (Eve is tempted by the serpent to eat the forbidden fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge) or innocence (Genesis 2:25 states that "Adam and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame," indicating their complete innocence and lack of self-consciousness or worldly concerns, which explain the "You are runaway, or have no sense of crisis").

👀

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Um, chile anyway so-

Lucifer has that brat-taming, bondage, and dacryphilia things going on... So be proud and bratty y'all-

[voldkat]

RAIN WORLD : ROLESWAP !!

i wanted to explore an au where pebbles is swapped with sig , instead of the usual pebbles-moon swap :3 i hope you enjoy this au i accidentally created because i listened to laplace's angel for too long and was plagued by visions during the tender hours of 10 to 11 pm

the main focus of this au !! yeay !! sig accidentally kills suns out of desperation to reach A Goal ( i don't know what it is yet ) and pebbles attempts to save them by sending a care package . sig is much younger here and his personality reflects that , being bitter and stubborn and a sarcastic little shit , though he ends up calming down and resembling his canon self a little more as his can slowly rots . he was built as a sort of backup iterator in case suns' cooling systems were to fail entirely . pebbles is calmer and more level-headed , showing the same warmth and kindness he did during his canon rivulet campaign state , but ends up snapping from stress anyways and isolating himself permanently .

moon becomes an outsider to the local group , yet retains a close friendship with pebbles and being a mentor figure to sig . she sends sig illegal information during his time of need and quickly regrets it . suns becomes the group senior , built in a naturally cold environment to combat their subpar cooling tech . sig's excessive heat output threw the nearby climate into chaos and caused suns to collapse from overheating .

this one's a bit of a weird one !! hunter is now the cancerous growth slowly killing sig from the inside , his very own version of rot . it looks the same as pebbles' rot in canon , but with pinkish accents instead of dark blue accents . pebbles' rot is now a carnivorous slugcat messenger named the outlaw (?) , created by pebbles to send aid to suns . their creation process was rushed which led to them developing a terrible illness , locking them into an unfortunate demise .

spearmaster is now a random wild slugcat , weirdly mutated by natural means somehow . they stumble into sig's decaying can and retrieve his last rarefaction cell to give to suns , later becoming suns' companion . rivulet is now a genetically engineered messenger made by moon to be swift and nimble , their gills and swimming expertise letting them traverse moon's watery surroundings with great ease . they were used once to deliver the illegal information to sig , and once again to send an apology to him , which he angrily denied .

the green pup ( yet to be named ) gets separated from their family because of a scavenger-related incident . the blue pup , now named the scholar , bravely sets off in search of them . the two are related to artificer as colonymates . survivor and monk both perish from a terrible storm , getting carried away by the rain and doomed to drown . the two are related to gourmand directly .

artificer is now the leader of the slugtree colony , depicted in legends as a fierce brave warrior capable of taking on any challenge . their journey involves searching for a pair of lost pups , dodging hits from suspicious scavengers along the way . gourmand is now the unfortunate parent of survivor and monk , losing two of their pups to the unforgiving rain . they run down the path of greed and bind themselves to gluttony , endlessly searching for power so they can never lose anything again .

AUGHHHH !!!!!

i haven't thought of what to do with saint , sliver , wind , or innocence yet !!! i might swap wind and innocence if i don't see any better options . and if i feel silly enough i might swap saint with sliver

idk if i wanna add nightcat and enot into this au , but if i do they'll probably get swapped with each other too unless i run into any cooler alternatives

gourmand's story is a little bit scuffed BHJDSHF i'm sticking with them getting locked at karma 4 like arti's canon karma lock but i don't have much that builds off of it right now . oopsie

their ages / spots in the timeline have been swapped around too ! pebbles and moon are now both gen 2 , while suns and sig are gens 1 and 3 respectively . the slugcats follow the timeline of whoever they're swapped with ( rivulet is the first campaign , gourmand goes right after , then the outlaw (?) , etc )

i WILL be tweaking the designs for these guys ( especially the iterators since i have specific generation-based design conventions for them and All Of Them would be breaking those conventions if i let them keep their usual designs ) but i am Not That Good at spontaneous character design so i will be doing that !! later !!!

if you guys wanna send asks about this au or talk to me about it then go ahead bc it's been rotating in my head like crazy pleasepleaselpaseplepalseplaseple /silly

[amourdivine]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 🦢 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐒?

Hello! Since I wanted to cross this to Instagram, I wrote a sweet and short reading on how you'll be able to recognize your FS. I really hope this resonates! Feedback is always appreciated; If you liked this reading, please consider booking a paid reading or tipping me at @ amourdivinetarot@gmail.com! xo. ♡

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none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise.

how to choose your pile.  take deep breaths for a few minutes & look at each and every one of the piles separately. which pile sparks a feeling inside you? which pile gives you a strong memory or calls out to you the most? take your time and feel free to come back to it later.

♡ ♡ ♡     pick a card masterlist & information.

disclaimer. this is a general reading for entertainment purposes. tarot is a divination tool & is not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings.

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PILE 001.

three of wands • three of cups • eight of pentacles

Before being a good anything, this person is a good friend. You'll recognize them by their hardworking nature, their cooperation and team working skills. It's likely you'll meet them during a work travel or another kind of formal situation - perhaps on a group travel for a college project or some other kind of professional setting. Your FS will be extremely skilled and knowledgeable, but humble about it. You may end up collaborating with this person on something significant here, perhaps a business or a project together. I feel like they're very prim & proper, they'll never cross boundaries and will always be respectful of everyone's beliefs, religion and backgrounds. You'll recognize them by their patience, their independent, wise and practical nature.

Planets and signs: Earth energy, mainly Capricorn and Taurus.

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PILE 002.

two of swords • the empress • the hermit.

So much Venus and Libra here. This person is a people pleaser, not in a terrible way, but they want to be discerning, okay. They want to be fair and diplomatic. Your FS is thoughtful - you'll recognize them by how much they always want to do the right thing, to the point where it becomes borderline unhealthy and perfectionist. They want to make sure they make the best decisions for everyone in their lives. Your FS takes everyone's feelings into account because they care deeply about their family and loved ones. You'll recognize them for their big heart, their sensitive, introspective and gentle nature. They may be an overthinker as well, because your FS is terrified of hurting someone or doing the wrong thing by themselves or someone else. They're beautiful in all aspects.

Planets and signs: Earth and Air, mainly Libra and Virgo.

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PILE 003.

the star • three of swords • seven of swords.

Your FS is resilient, hopeful and cunning. You'll recognize them by their ability to outsmart the people who don't mean well, by their silver tongue and sharp wit. They have an uncanny ability to get past the heartbreaks and difficult moments in their life. This person has been through it, they've seen many things and they did not let the world get to them. While they may seem smug, your FS is confident in themselves to get through anything in life. They're hopeful, but they're not passive about their hope. They don't sit around and wait for things to improve - no, this person improves their own life and crafts their own destiny. Magician card energy. You'll recognize them by their stubbornness, their desire to fight for better things and their unique sense of humor.

Planets and signs: All air signs, mainly Aquarius and Gemini.

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PILE 004.

page of swords • eight of pentacles • justice.

Your FS is a curious, busy and hardworking person. You'll recognize them by how many questions about life they have - they're a truth seeker. They could work in the legal or justice system. This person may be a bookworm and likes asking the hard, philosophical questions. They're not afraid of harsh truths and confronting the people who have done something wrong. Your FS may strongly believe in karma, or perhaps they have a very strong ethic and moral code. You'll recognize them by how passionate, eager and restless they seem for something greater than what the world can offer. A larger-than-life personality. Someone honest, curious, non-judgmental and principled.

Planets and signs: mainly Libra and Gemini, with a feel of Sagittarius.

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amourdivine. © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

[paimonial-rage]

parody - cyno

leftovers from the [random writing event]

“General Mahamatra,” you began one day on a patrol of Ardravi Valley. “Although there definitely are dangerous creatures in Sumeru, I have to say that a lot of them are quite cute, especially in groups. Do you know which one is the most affectionate?”

His brow furrowed in a way that made your heart soar. He was thinking about it! He was giving it honest thought! This was it! This was the moment you’d finally succeed.

“Affectionate? I suppose Shroomboars and Rishboland Tigers do take care of their young…” He mused.

You hummed.

“Well, I suppose so. But personally, I think it’s the fungi.”

His brow raised.

“Oh? Why is that?”

You spun around to face him with a playful grin on your face.

“Well, it’s because they love each other so mush!”

There it was! The punchline! The moment that you spent the past twelve hours waiting for! You set up the joke and he fell for it beautifully. It had everything he could ask for. A good build up! A great play on words. And a performance to boot. And thus here would be the moment. You would finally get him to–

“I see.” He began in thought with a hand against his chin. “You substituted ‘mush’ in mushroom for ‘much.’ Hmm… not even I thought about that.”

After he contemplated your joke for a few moments, your jaw dropped as he then took out a small notebook from his pocket and began jotting who knew what inside. The smile that joyously captured your expression from before soon began to twitch at the edges.

“W-Wasn’t it funny?” You asked hesitantly.

He looked up from his book and nodded with the straightest face imaginable.

“Extremely. I find it upsetting I didn’t think of it first. The whole matra has been getting better at jokes. If I’m not careful, I’ll have my title taken away from me.”

“But you’re… that wasn’t supposed to…” Your shoulders dropped. “Never mind…”

Never did you think a fun bet you made with the rest of the matra would be so difficult. It was such a simple thing too. The first person that got the General Mahamatra Cyno to laugh would have free drinks for a week. Nobody thought it would be that hard. Though he wasn’t the most expressive, he did love terrible jokes. Surely he would be happy to get a taste of his own medicine.

But much to your dismay, your lighthearted jokes only seemed to bother Mahamatra Cyno, as much as he told you otherwise. In the back of your mind, you knew the reason why he held onto jokes so much. He only started telling them to relax the rest of the Matra. Still, you wished your jokes would help him to relax too instead of making him feel like you were trying to take his place.

As he walked on ahead to scope out the rest of Pardis Dhyai, you hurried to catch up to him. One more joke. You would try one more joke until you called it quits.

“Out of all the forest animals, though,” you began. “I think I’d prefer to hang out with the mushrooms the most.”

He turned to you raising a brow, “‘Hang out?’ Don’t you think that’s a bit dangerous?”

You shrugged.

“Yeah, but they’re just such fungis. You know. Fun-guys?” You added with a wide smile at the end. But just like before, his expression turned to that of confusion, contemplation, then jealousy.

“First, be honest with me,” he began as he took your shoulders with a look of intensity upon his face. “Are you and the rest of the matra looking to replace me as the resident jokester? Because if so…”

He then dropped to his knees, prompting a gasp of shock from you.

“I will not take this standing–”

“What are you doing!” You exclaimed as you tried to pull him back up. “The General Mahamatra can’t kneel before a lowly matra. The ground is dirty too–”

He cleared his throat.

“I said, I will not take this standing.”

You stared at him.

He stared back.

You stared more.

He looked right back into your eyes.

“Do you get it? The reason why I sat is because–”

“Yeah, I get it,” you sighed. “Now stand up already, please. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“You’re right,” he said with a nod as he stood. “I must always be outstanding in my field.”

You shook your head as you made your way forward, leaving your boss behind. You did your best to ignore the way frustration filled your gut. The fact that you almost laughed at his lame jokes only served to heighten your irritation. He wasn’t supposed to be making you laugh. You were supposed to be doing that to him. But instead of playing along, he got competitive and decided to one up you instead.

With the wind in your sails gone, you did your best to keep the pout from your lips as you continued on your patrol. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were irritated. With him. And with the way he noticed your irritation and was trying to appease you by burying you with even more lame jokes made your irritation even worse. By the end of the patrol, it was only inevitable that you were about ready to burst.

Thankfully, the General Mahamatra was not so obtuse so as to not catch onto the tension in the air.

“First,” he began at the end of the patrol, “I… apologize. I was trying to make you laugh, but it seems I’ve only accomplished the opposite. Forgive me.”

But somehow instead of calming you down, the apologetic expression on his face only threw you into even more of a frenzy.

“No, that’s not what I– Mahamatra Cyno, you– Why are you apologizing? I’m the one that should be apologizing!” You exclaimed. “This whole time I was trying to get you to laugh, but all I accomplished was making you upset. And then I got mad at you because you didn’t do what I wanted. I was the immature one in this situation!”

He paused.

“You… were trying to get me to laugh?”

You ran a hand through your hair in frustration.

“Me and the whole matra! At first it was for free drinks for a week, but we do genuinely want to make you laugh. You try so hard to make us feel comfortable, so we only wanted to do something for you in return. But…” You sighed as your shoulders dropped. “Who would’ve thought with all the bad jokes you enjoy telling, you don’t like them getting told to you in return.”

“So that’s why you all were telling me so many jokes this past week,” he hummed.

He glanced down as his hand went to his chin in thought. Then after a few moments, he looked back up with a resolute nod.

“Very well. Then for my fellow matra, I shall make more of an effort to laugh,” he announced.

“You can’t do that! We’ll know if you don’t mean it! We’ll be able to tell!!” You cried.

He nodded. “I see. Then I’ll study more jokes to learn what makes them so funny, then I’ll share them with the rest of you.”

Your jaw dropped.

“But you already do that!”

“If that’s the case… I’ll conduct a study with the rest of the matra to research what they find funny, analyze the findings, then fit them into the framework of my sense of humor. That should solve the problem, shouldn’t it?”

“Why would you– Do you even have the time to do all that work!? You shouldn’t be trying that hard just to make us happy! Besides, we–”

He chuckled.

“First, I’m joking.”

You froze.

“You… That’s not…” You turned away with a pout, ears burning. “That was a horrible joke.”

“But you made me laugh, didn’t you?”

You snorted.

“It wasn’t worth the amount of emotional turmoil you put me through. Wait till I let everyone know that the General Mahamatra’s sense of humor is bullying people,” you announced, stomping away, doing your best to ignore the way he was laughing behind you.

[ymiwritesstuff]

Not really smutty (though it could lead into it) but how about tav helping halsin brush and braid his hair? This man deserves to be pampered and have someone care for him as much as he does for everyone else

WOWOWOWOWOW I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! This was so much fun to write thank you Anon!! I hope this turned out the way you were hoping!! Halsin deserves all the pampering!!! Enjoy!

A Moment Together

Baldur's Gate 3

Halsin x Tav!Reader

Summary: After a long day of hard work and battle, you and Halsin decide to spend the remaining hours of the day in each other's company during which you are eager to make sure he feels as relaxed as possible.

Notes: Fluff (so much that it's disgusting lol), hair brushing, no spoilers, just good vibes :)

“Alright, that should be enough.”

The heavy pieces of firewood you had spent almost the entirety of the day gathering fell on the ground with a loud thud, the positive exclamations of gratitude from the others soon following. It was always a rather tedious task, but it proved to be one of the most rewarding. No one could sleep or relax after a hard day in the coldness of the night unless you happened to have an infernal engine for a heart. Karlach was lucky in that aspect, you thought.

The sun still peaked through the thick trees of the forest, though it would not take long until it would retreat behind the horizon. Looking around the camp, everyone seemed just about ready to shed the weight and responsibilities of working to find a solution to your parasite issue and enjoy some much needed rest. The tents were put up, the bedrolls were set around the campfire and the heavy pieces of gear and armor were abandoned in favor of something more comfortable.

You ought to do the same soon.

However, your mind soon wandered when a certain druid entered your vision. A smile crept up to your lips. You were reminded of something you had said earlier in the day, a promise of a moment for just the two of you. Halsin was quick to relax his gaze as he looked over the camp and noticed how everyone seemed content. Should there have been an issue, he would have most likely been the first one to volunteer and offer his help, being the kindhearted druid he was. The thought only made you smile more.

As soon as his eyes found you, you were quick to point to the edge of the camp with a tilt of your head, your feet slowly carrying towards the direction. You were inviting him for a stroll, as you had discussed previously, and he certainly hadn’t forgotten, as he quickly followed you.

The camp slowly disappeared behind you and once it did, Halsin was quick to intertwine his large hand with yours, a gesture he often did when you shared a moment together. You were sure the rest of the camp was privy to the way you two shared glances, some of them were rather… perceptive, and secrecy wasn’t something either of you desired. Perhaps it merely felt more natural when there weren’t others present. Halsin certainly seemed more at ease like this.

“You seemed quite busy today,” you commented, remembering how you hadn’t seen him much all day. It was not terribly unusual, but to say you did not miss him would be a lie. He hummed.

“There was a shortage of potions and other healing items. So I made a longer journey to find a merchant.” You nodded as you listened, but also frowned your brows.

“We do have you and Shadowheart with us…” If you were honest, you were not sure why spend the effort to gather potions when your group consisted of more than one healer. Your thoughtful muttering reached his pointed ears and he was quick to let out a hearty chuckle.

“That may be so. But it does not hurt to be resourceful. We do journey separately at times, after all.”

“That’s true.”

You could not help but smile. Halsin had always been looking over everyone, making sure to offer his help whenever it may have been needed. His kindness was admirable, and in truth, it was needed during times like these.

You continued to walk by his side, his larger stature perfectly framed by the setting sun that continued to seep through the branches and leaves. To not look at him would have been a crime, so you allowed your eyes to wander, taking in his utter beauty as you walked. He had a small but fulfilled smile upon his lips, and his eyes idly looked around ever so slightly, marveling at the grace of nature.

The journey led you two to a gentle stream that flowed through the forest. The water was crystal clear and the warm colors of the sun were reflected on the calmly moving surface beautifully. You were sure this same stream spread into the vast lake just next to your camp. 

Giving glances at each other, the silent decision was made to rest here and unwind after yet another long day, maybe even fall asleep. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and Halsin always made sure to keep you warmer in ways a mere campfire never could.

You carefully sat down on the ground, Halsin keeping your hand in his until you were fully seated. He then laid down, placing his weary head on your lap, looking up at you with a smile that made your heart swell. The habit of his was incredibly endearing, there was just something about this druid, built like the most durable stone wall, gently lying beneath you at the mercy of your touch.

Smiling at him, your hands immediately went to his hair, pulling it back until all of it pooled in your lap. Tilting your head, you looked at his locks, noticing how they had some woodchips and tangles in them. Not a rare sight, quite natural, even. But you frowned, though playfully.

“Shall I brush it?” You asked, making sure to not pull on the knots with your fingers. A small chuckle left his lips.

“I have my doubts you’ll let me get up if I do not accept.” The sarcasm in his tone was obvious, it made you scoff jokingly.

“Of course not. What would the others think?” You sighed and groaned dramatically. “Imagine how horrified Astarion would be!”

Halsin laughed, that pleasant sound ringing in your ears long after he stopped. His laugh was contagious, so you briefly joined him, while reaching for your pocket and pulling out a comb. You looked down at him again.

“Well, what say you?” Your smirk was once again jesting, but his smile was genuine.

“Go right ahead, my heart.”

Smiling, you carefully began running the comb through his hair, noting how he let out a deep breath at the sensation. Brushing his hair had become somewhat of a regular activity, you did it for him every time you could. He enjoyed it. To be surrounded by nature and touched by you so attentively, he could not even begin to think about any better way to forget about the harshness of reality that affected everyone.

You had always thought that Halsin was far too considerate for his own good. He often put himself before others, especially with you. Though it was an incredibly valuable trait, it often left you wondering if anyone ever did anything for him. That’s why you helped him whenever you could, that’s why you held his hands and asked if he needed anything, that’s why you brushed his hair.

Halsin’s breathing was calm and paired with the gentle trickle of the stream as the sun slowly set, you felt like all the horrid things that happened around you did not exist, even if it was for a brief moment. 

His hair was mostly rid of its previous debris and the comb flowed through it effortlessly. You were more or less done but felt like something was missing. Placing the comb down, you ran your fingers through his locks, marveling at the length. His long hair was always open, flowing freely in the wind. As nature intended, you thought.

You took a brief look at him. His eyes were closed as if he was asleep, but you doubted this was the case. Regardless, he looked peaceful and you felt a wave of satisfaction hit you. It would be a lie to claim that it didn’t feel rewarding to see this druid, so concerned for everyone else and working tirelessly to ensure safety among everyone, at ease and utterly relaxed.

Gathering his hair into your hands, you sectioned it and began interweaving them. Halsin surely felt it, as his eyebrow raised ever so slightly. You had never done this before.

“Trust the process,” you said to which he gave a humorous hum. His hand rested on his abdomen and he took a deep breath, simply enjoying the way your fingers touched and gently tugged his brown hair.

As you reached the end of the braid, you looked for something to tie it with. You spotted a flower, white petals practically glowing in the moonlight. It had already been plucked from the ground, so you did not feel bad for reusing it for the greater good. You took a small piece from the base of the stem and used it to tie the end of the braid, to ensure that it would stay put.

You looked at your work and Halsin seemed to sense that you were done, as he slowly sat up, and turned to you. And as you looked at him, you could not stop the heat that spread across your cheek.

The loose braid rested upon his broad shoulder and his large frame was illuminated by the moon, giving him an almost otherworldly aura. His fingers brushed along the braid, there was some surprise in his expression, but it quickly melted away when he noticed how you looked at him.

“I suppose I can compete with Astarion now?” Halsin chuckled as he spoke to which you couldn’t contain a smile.

“Well, almost.” Your hand reached for the flower you had used to tie his hair with and you scooted closer to him, lifting yourself so your eyes were on the same level. Even when sitting down, he towered over you. Carefully, you brushed some of his hair that framed his face behind his ear, the flower following soon after. It came to rest against his ear, giving him a look that seemed to blow you away.

You retreated from him, grinning on the outside, but screaming and squealing inside at how incredibly beautiful he looked.

“Now I’d say you have a chance.”

Halsin pulled you to him as you both laughed, holding you close. He was warm, he always was. You pulled away to look at him, the affectionate sparkle in his hazel eyes warming your heart.

“Thank you, my heart. You… Do so much for me.”

If only he realized. This was nothing compared to what he did not only for you but for everyone. You smiled for what felt like the thousandth time and kissed him, keeping your hands on the sides of his face. The night had fallen, and all possible thoughts of returning to the others faded away. Tonight, you would sleep under the stars, dozing off to the soothing sounds of the stream with him next to you before repeating the grueling routine of the day all over again.

But it felt worth it. For moments like these, you’d do anything.

~

Feel free to support me on ko-fi!❤️

[sunlit-skycat]

Pale by Wildbow shill post

“The practice, as we call it, is best summed up as an ongoing contract. By pledging to make your word inviolable, forces in this world will start listening. Routine, ritual, and expectation have formed the grooves and determined how best to communicate with those forces. Diagrams, symbols, knowing who and what to appeal to. Many, many things become possible. If your word is inviolable.” [...]

“Something terrible happened, of a scale that words cannot easily convey. We need you to look into it,” Matthew said. “No need to solve it. Simply… look into it.”

Overview

Pale is an urban fantasy web serial about three girls Awakened into a world of magic in order to solve the murder of a Judge, a supreme being that oversees magic in an area. Soon, however, they discover that the very roots of magic are built off of systemic injustice, and that outside forces want to destroy the meager sanctuary that they have been charged to protect.

Why you should read it

Pale has a huge meta-system that tries to provide an explanation for how all fairy tale type of magic works. When one Awakens, they give up their ability to lie, but that doesn't stop Practitioners from trying to mislead everyone around them. Nothing comes for free. The easiest way to deal with the costs of Practice is to pass them off to someone else, which over the years has led old Practitioner families to exploit magical creatures and each other to do their bidding.

In a way, Pale really reminds me of the Harry Potter fandom, particularly the newer fics that try to examine all the unexamined issues that Rowling put into the worldbuilding and never explored. It tackles subjects of imperialism, child abuse, community building, and justice. There's a lot of fun things to discuss about it, including whether the protagonists ultimately got it right at the end.

Many of the characters in Pale are marginalized in some way. Of the main characters, Lucy is the only black girl in a rural Canadian town and sick of it, Avery is a lesbian and doesn't know how to come out to her dubiously tolerant family, and Verona's single father is an abusive emotional black hole that wants to drag her down with him. Overall, there are a lot of well-realized female characters who are allowed to let their sharp edges cut others in the story.

The fandom

Pale had an earlier prequel work set in the same universe called Pact, which features different characters and settings but has roughly the same magic system. Because of that, it's most useful to think of the fandom as an being composed of an umbrella group, called Otherverse or P-verse by different places, and then subcategories of Pale, Pact, and OC focused works.

The main cast runs young, so shipping isn't big in the fandom, but if you like f/f potential Pale is pretty decent for it. The OC fic tends to have a lot of queer main characters as well.

On Dreamwidth, I run sister communities at blueheronteanook for canon character based fic and meta, and hillsgladehouselibrary for OC fics. There also is a discord server for these communities, the Blue Heron Tea Nook.

You can read Pale fic on Ao3 here.

Where to read it

Pale can be read online here: palewebserial.wordpress.com/

There also is a fanmade audiobook that goes up to arc 10, about 1/3 of the story. It's on Spotify and Podchaser.

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

hc/short story/blurb?? for shino with a girl that specializes on plant jutsu? I like thinking of them as sort of like in nature. (I had to look it up lol) mutualism! 🌱🪲

Also whenever shino (attempts) to talk, she takes all of it in. When shino’s not around, she notices and remembers him. Shino and her go back and forth about all sorts of stuff; she asks about Shino’s bugs and his favorites and she actually listens. Shino finally reciprocates and asks about her plants and all that.

She vibes well with most of the teams though so she’s got friend groups up the wazoo. Shino’s petty as fuck so I’m getting some jealous vibes from him too. But he shouldn’t feel that way over someone he’s not even in a relationship with, he thinks…. Not with the first person that’s actually remembered him, no……

(Also, shino’s canonically packing so do with that as you will, my friend. I just need something for our beloved bug boy.)

this request had me in a chokehold for two whole days - i really ran with this, it's pretty long, but sets up well for the last part of your request - i hope this hits your marks, thank you for the request!!

The Art of Mutual Growth

Pairing: Shino x f!Reader

Summary: Shino meets his perfect match while on a mission, and he quickly finds out that his solitude was dust, compared to the castle of your company.

W/c: 4.3k

Warnings: Swearing, talk of suicide (Shino's terribly dramatic about you), self-loathing

Notes: i was imagining Shino a few years post Blank Period in this, but this could work for Boruto era Shino too if y'all are in to that top knot - if you want a smuttier part 2, i got that shit lined right up, just lmk

Masterlist💿

He was used to being overlooked, discounted, alone. It never bothered him - even in love, his parents were solitary people, raising him to be unbothered by a sullen lack of attention. Being left to his own devices, Shino turned to his bugs for solace, and they provided as much as they could. To his knowledge, he was perfectly happy, alone with his insects.

But then you danced into his life, a trail of flowers in your wake.

You were his perfect match; a woman who could use Plant Release technique. Your kekkei tota was a gift of your Kiso blood, but too powerful for you to ever have full control over. Still, your control was wildly impressive, and your technical fighting skills were more precise than any Shino had seen before. Unlike him, you hailed from the Land of Flowers, but you couldn't reveal any further personal details at the time. It was a shame that the mission that brought you to Shino didn't allow him the time he so desperately needed to talk to you.

Side by side, you and he had fought together. Your snaking vines fed Shino's bugs chakra, and allowed them to infiltrate places on your vines with a much greater speed and accuracy than they ever could when Shino was alone. His bugs found your chakra delicious, almost as distracted as he was by you and your power. The recon mission went without hitch, mainly thanks to your immense amount of pure chakra and will to prove your capabilities. It was a shame.

Upon the mission's completion, Shino merely listened to your cracking conversation with Kiba and Shikamaru, resigned to the fact that he had missed his chance, already moving on in his mind.

When the team returned to the Hidden Leaf, Shino was ready to be the first to leave, already peeling away from the group until...

"I'm sorry," your sweet voice said timidly, behind Shino.

He stopped in his tracks, and you did as well, staying right behind him. The bugs' chakra told him you seemed nervous, which arguably relaxed him. Clipped, he asked, "What for?"

"We never got the chance to get to know each other," you grinned, coming around Shino to face him with a placid smile. Extending your hand, you gave him your name, and with a charm to your tone, asked for his.

Clearing his throat, Shino couldn't find his voice for a second. He had never seen such a pretty smile, let alone been the receiver of one. Your bubbly attitude caught him off guard. He couldn't fathom what you were doing, why you would be wasting your time, talking to him. You could've stayed with the team, striking up any number of conversations with one of them... but you didn't. You chose to talk to him.

"Shino Aburame," he said finally, taking your warm hand in his.

"You're wonderfully strong, Shino," you hummed, shaking his hand slightly. "The chakra control you possess is to be envied. I'd love to know more about your insects, if you have the time."

Staring the gift horse right in the mouth, he scoffed, "You must be joking."

"No." The expression you wore quickly became confused, but your tone genuinely despondent. With a twitch, you let go of his hand and Shino could feel his heart plummet. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

From behind, Kiba's strong voice cut you off. "Hey, Y/n! Wanna take a tour of Konoha?" He came bounding up to the pair of you, Akamaru by his side, stealing your attention from Shino. "I'm free to be your guide, unless...you two..."

Looking back at Shino for a moment, you seemed to mull something over thoroughly in your mind. Your eyes were full of expectation, and Shino could feel his palms dampen.

"Go with him," Shino said, as casually as he could, though his words came out rather harshly.

He wished he could take it back as soon as he said it. The feeling that came when he saw a sharp sparkle in your eye, followed by an overbearing dullness, made Shino feel empty and so very stupid. Your lips drew straight, and your air became serious - everything about you became stony, frigid. The exact opposite of your demeanour before Shino had opened his stupid mouth.

Maintaining eye contact with Shino as you took Kiba up on his offer, he could feel his heart leap from his chest and into your palm. You squeezed it then, and when he watched you walk away with Kiba and his ninken, you crushed it.

In the aftermath of the successful recon mission, you were invited by the Fifth Hokage to stay in Konoha and train under her. You took her up, of course, and became an active member of the society within the Hidden Leaf. Everywhere Shino went, there you would be, talking to swarms of people at a time.

It was Promethean punishment, that he didn't deserve.

You would never speak to him again, because he was born with his foot in his mouth. He would be cursed to see you everywhere he turned, but you would never speak to him again.

A week had passed since you came to Konoha to stay. Shino had been tantalized, shown exactly what he wanted but couldn't have, for seven days, and he was sick to death. His solitude had never felt so solitary, watching you bop around the village with an onslaught of people.

It was made even worse by the fact that he had consistently been catching you, staring at him. The bugs would be abuzz, begging Shino to ask you to sprout one of your vines, telling him that you looked ready to approach him, yourself. He ignored then dually, thinking they were exaggerating your apparent willingness to speak to him. Why would you ever leave a full entourage, just to speak to him?

With the sun sinking lowly over Hokage Mountain, Shino decided to wrap up his meditation and just go home. His body was alight with energy, but his soul begged for rest and reprieve, something that Shino could not provide. As such, he left the sanctity of his neck of the woods to make a medial dinner and have a long sleep. Maybe that would fix him, though it hadn't seemed to work for the last week. Shino felt restless, completely unable to settle in a way that even resembled himself before you came along.

He would just have to get over you. The chance you served up on a silver platter had been spit on, and you would surely never serve it again. Shino had to move onward and upward, he couldn't stagnate.

But then-

There you were. In his hallway. In front of a door. Fiddling with your keys and hissing curses under your breath.

And all Shino could think was, I am going to make her my wife. I need to marry this woman.

"Hi."

You looked up, startled, but quickly smiled and looked back at your keys, still pulling and shoving. Slowly, you said, "Hey...Shino, right?"

He had never heard his name like that before. It dripped with silver and gold as it left your pretty lips, and Shino never wanted anyone else to say his name again. Only you. Only you, forever.

Looking up at his lack of response, you seemed nervous but tried to smile. "You're my bug boy, aren't you?"

"Yes," he said a little too quickly. The nervousness vanished from your expression as embarrassment became his. He cleared his throat, trying again, "Yeah. That's me. Shino."

She remembered. Her bug boy. Her's. She knows. I need to make her mine. Someway, somehow.

"I didn't think I knew anyone in the building," you said, finally procuring the key you wanted from the tangle. You slipped it into your door, the smiled at Shino, the nervousness coming back to you. In a light voice, you asked, "Would you...would you like to come in? Have a tea? With me?"

Shino thought he had died and gone to Heaven. There was no other plausible reason for him to have been getting another opportunity with you, this one infinitely more golden than the last.

The lock clicked and you opened the door, still awaiting his answer. A rush of cool air came over Shino, standing near your door. Leaning back, Shino tried to bite back his forming grin, before saying,

"I would like that very much."

You mumbled something under your breath and stepped into the apartment. Shino followed in after you, welcomed by the scent of lavender and rosemary. As you let him look around the living room, you went to the kitchen to prepare the tea.

Shino had never seen such a beautiful little place, especially not one that reflected it's inhabitant so well. Plants sprawled across every wall, their pots interconnected through a series of braided vines that wrapped and weaved around the others. All of the wooden things in the apartment were birch, the coffee table, the bookshelves, the chairs. To boot, all of the pillows and cushions were a pale, dusty green colour. Books and journals laid all over, accompanied by a myriad weapons and solo-practice materials. The feeling of peace was abundant in the small apartment, Shino found himself actually start to relax.

So, he would be letting you decorate the house when you eventually became his wife. This was useful information to Shino.

"Sencha or matcha?" You asked him, poking your head out of the kitchen.

You cared. "Sencha."

"Okay, give me another minute." You ducked back into the kitchen, your hair flowing so nicely behind you.

Feeling his bugs growing anticipatory, he began to try and suppress them. The last thing Shino wanted right now was for his bugs to take advantage of your hospitality. But his refusal only made them angrier. With your vines so near, it was like holding a lollipop in front of a child and saying no.

Coming back into the living room with a tea tray, you smiled at Shino, making him neglect his control over the bugs. Almost immediately, a swarm of insects came from Shino's body and flocked to the nearest vine before Shino could do anything about it. He swore and started trying to wrangle them, only stopping when he heard your melodic laugh.

He never wanted to hear anything else again. Not even the way you said his name could compare to your laughter - no sweeter sound had ever been produced.

"I don't mind, Shino, let them be," you hummed, setting the tray onto the table almost silently. Shino turned to you slowly, unsure if you were just letting your hospitality speak for you. You laughed, "It's fine. I promise."

"Whatever you say," Shino replied faintly, still not convinced but not willing to argue with you for even a second.

He came around to the couch as you picked up the jade teapot and poured both cups. He thanked you, taking up his teacup while you sat down on the couch. Sipping the steaming beverage, Shino hummed,

"This might be the best tea I've ever had."

"I'm glad," you grinned, sipping your tea before patting the cushion beside you. "Sit with me. Please."

Without hesitation, Shino sat on the furthest edge of the couch, giving you the space you deserved. You just giggled softly, collecting your legs onto the couch and shifting your entire body to face Shino. He smiled absentmindedly, heart thumping inside of his chest.

"So, I have to ask," you started. Shino turned more toward you, giving you his full attention. "Why did you get all aggro when I asked you about your bugs, the other day?"

Oh. No. No, this wasn't what he wanted. No.

"It...erm, it was... I don't..." Stars above, wasn't he pathetic? Couldn't even speak to the only person he wanted to speak to. He sighed deeply, "It wasn't the bugs, I just... I thought you were making fun of me when... when you... you know...?"

Furrowing your eyebrows as he blathered, you looked at Shino like he was crazy. He had never had so much trouble stringing together a sentence, and he didn't even finish the thought. The silence that followed was thick and heavy, just making Shino feel worse about his inability to talk to you.

"When I complimented your chakra and your control?" You asked finally. Shino nodded, just thankful that you spoke and he didn't have to. To his surprise, you smiled that sweet smile of yours and asked, "Why?"

"Who are you? The police?"

"Oh, n-no... I'm sorry."

Fuck, he could've killed himself. Only Shino Aburame could make a joke that wipes the smile off of your face. It was his voice, it wasn't jovial enough. No, it was his face, he looked too mean. No, no, it was his brain.

"No, I'm sorry," Shino sighed, setting his cup on the coffee table before rubbing his eyes under his sunglasses.  "It's the fact that you're as powerful as you are... and I'm not..."

"We don't have to talk about that."

Letting a short chuckle fall from his lips, Shino looked at you from the side of his glasses, getting a fully coloured vision of you in his peripheral. He took a breath, then felt a small bubble of laughter as he asked, 

"Then what do you want to talk about?" He sipped his tea, letting it warm his hands. "I'm a much better listener than talker, if you haven't caught on."

"I could've guessed." Narrowing his eyes, though you couldn't see them, Shino turned his head to you slowly. You laughed freely, "I talk too much as it is. I've got some innate need to chew the air. Aren't we a lovely pair?"

The church bells ringing, everyone's chatter falling to a hush as the organ begins-

"Hm, you've got such a nice voice, Shino - it's a pity you want to deprive me of it."

And here you are, coming down the aisle, right into his arms.

"W-what do you want me to say?" He asked quickly, chomping at the bit to make you happy. He didn't even have the mind to question your sentiment, just elated that it existed.

You sipped your tea, saying, "Tell me about your bugs."

"You're not making this easy for someone born to be a mute," he joked, watching your reaction intensely. Shino prayed his tone was humorous, that the small smile on his lips would support him.

And, to his joy, you laughed. Warm and rich, each soundwave landed on Shino's ear like a butterfly's kiss. You hummed, "I'm sorry-"

"And, please, stop apologizing to me - you haven't had a thing to be sorry for," he added.

"Okay," you said softly, looking at Shino with a matching expression. "Who's your favourite, then?"

That was a hard question for Shino to answer, especially given the bugs were in the room. But they were distracted, and so was he - both parties too under your influence to care.

Shino was still stumbling over his words and forgetting the most important ones, but you remained patient and attentive. It seemed you either were enchanted by his voice, or you were genuinely interested in what he had to say. Either way, Shino felt confidence bloom within him, and he started launching into great detail about his insects.

With rapt attention, you listened to every word that came from his mouth. Here and there, you would interject valid questions into the lulls of his speech, and he would answer them fully. As the two of you gradually finished the entire teapot, Shino found himself talking, and talking, and talking. He suddenly couldn't shut up.

"Fuckin' pot's empty," you grumbled, letting the final drop drip into Shino's half-full cup. "Want me to put on another, or do you fancy something else?"

"It's getting late, and I've already taken up enough of your time," he declined politely, finishing off the swig in his cup.

You sighed, "You say that like I've not been enjoying myself over the last-" Glancing at your watch, you gasped, "-three hours. Jumping Jehovah, I'm so sorry, I totally sucked up your night under the guise of tea."

"I would've just been sitting around, wanting to talk to you anyway," Shino chuckled lowly, feeling rather bold after having spent so much time with you.

Both of you stood from the couch with bashful smiles, each too shy to look at the other. Shino walked to your door and you followed after him.

"Do you want me to walk you to your door?"

He laughed lightly, "I don't expect that of you, but I'd have to be insane to turn down your company."

Opening the door wide, Shino motioned for you to go through. You thanked him kindly, then walked beside him in the hallway, five whole paces, to his door.

"Thank you for the tea, Y/n," he murmured, getting out his keys.

Your hand found purchase between his shoulder blades, making Shino freeze in his motion. His eyes darted to your face, finding the beautiful crescent of your smile in full bloom. "Anytime. We should make it a thing."

"We should."

"Goodnight, Shino."

"Goodnight, Y/n."

The breeze floated down the street with Shino. Today was the day, and it seemed even nature knew it. Nothing could slow him down, nothing could stand in his way.

Today was the day.

He had decided last night, today was going to be the day. It was an easy decision to make, but the gathering of courage tested Shino's resolve. But he was ardent, he was determined. Even if he did stutter, you would find it endearing, just like you had for the last six months. Even if he did say something wrong, you would understand, just like you always did.

Today, he was going to make you his. And he would finally be yours.

The plan was simple; show up at your door with something you would enjoy and deliver a great, long monologue that perfectly encapsulated every emotion he felt for you, then you would jump into Shino's arms and promise yourself to him.

The issues immediately became obvious; you could've hated the gift, he could've (and probably would've) screwed the monologue up to high Heaven, and, scariest of all, you might not have been so quick to jump into his arms. 

Shino could have potentially been planning on destroying the only relationship that ever particularly flowed naturally for him. He didn't want to think about that, not at all.

Not when today was the day.

The act of getting you a gift turned out to be more of a tribulation than Shino had imagined it to be. Nothing was grand enough, nothing meaningful enough. He needed something that would blow your socks off, something that would reduce you to the babbling fool that he became around you.

After spending an hour scouring the market squares, Shino moved to the trading post. Even longer was spent there, looking through stalls and trying to picture your reaction to each thing that struck him. But nothing was good enough. Nothing would ever be good enough for you.

Settling on a pricey collection of teas before the trading post closed, Shino haggled with the old man selling the tea. Just trying to get the price down to the amount he had in his wallet, Shino eventually left the trading post, coatless and penniless.

It didn't matter. Today was the day.

Stars, he wondered how nerve-wracking the ring shopping would be in a few years if this little trifle was causing so much strife.

Rounding the corner of the main street, Shino mulled over what to say to you. He just wanted to say I love you and kiss you, but that left you no agency. Even though it was becoming abundantly clear that you were interested in him, Shino still wanted to give you the chance to say no.

One thing that Shino hadn't taken in to account, though, were your other relationships.

And, as you came out of a restaurant with Kiba and Akamaru, Shino realized how grave of a mistake he had made.

Your face shone with a smile, ear to ear as you laughed at some witty quip Kiba delivered. He smiled back proudly, looking at you hungrily. The three of you began to walk toward Shino and he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"Oh! Shino!" You exclaimed brightly the second you saw him. Tearing away from Kiba and his ninken, you quickened your pace to Shino. He took a step back as you approached, otherwise frozen. Your happiness faded to worry as you asked, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

The fact that anyone else could be graced by your laugh was wrong. The fact that you just finished what looked a lot like a date with Shino's former teammate was wrong. The fact that you didn't know what was wrong, was wrong.

"Shino, sweetheart, talk to me," you commanded gently. Kiba and Akamaru loomed a few paces behind you, trying to look like they weren't intensely listening. It aggravated Shino monumentally.

Everything about how today was becoming was aggravating him. Shino couldn't even enjoy his name on your tongue, let alone the pet name you had given him. It all felt like lip service.

"I got this for you," he said weakly, offering up the wooden box in his grasp. You looked down and cocked your eyebrow, before looking back at Shino. "I wanted to... to... nevermind." His heart was shattering. "Just take it."

Even if the gift wouldn't have the same effect, Shino wanted to see your reaction. He truly thought you would like the tea, potentially more so now that his unrequited feelings weren't attached. Cautiously, you took the box from Shino but didn't open it.

"You just wanted to what?" You asked, still so concerned over the man before you. "Where's your jacket? Shino, please, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's not important."

"Something is clearly bothering you, and it is important," you rebutted, acquiring a slight edge. "What's bothering you? If you don't tell me, I can't help."

Fuck.

"I love you!" He shouted, putting every single emotion he felt into his words.

Fuck.

Feeling like he was going to cry, Shino turned on his heel and walked. He didn't want your reaction now, he just wanted to save face, if that was even at all possible, at this point.

"Shino," your sweet voice said timidly, right behind him.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Shino hung his head lowly. The bugs were no help, just saying your eyes were as glossy as his.

Slowly, you came around to face Shino and bent lowly enough to be in his view. You smiled up at him and he couldn't help but smile back, taking in the odd posture you assumed as you let the wooden box rest beside your feet. Everything felt so silly. So trivial.

"Yeah?"

You straightened out, making Shino's head follow you as his eyes stayed glued to your face. Your beautiful face.

"Before I make myself look stupid-" Your sentiment made Shino scoff a laugh, because no one could look more stupid than him. Sweetly, you just smiled, continuing, "Do you love me platonically, or romantically?"

He took a deep breath, blinking slowly, before answering, "Every single way under the sun."

"Good," you beamed, taking a step forward and taking the lapels of Shino's flak jacket into your hands, pulling him forward. On your toes, your face came closer to his than it ever had been before, your petal soft lips brushing against his so gently as you said, "I love you too."

Not wasting a moment, not getting in his head, Shino knew that this was it.

He leaned down, closing the small gap, and met your lips fantastically. Not even Shino's wildest, wettest dream could've prepared him for the utter decadence of your kiss. His hands found your hips, pulling you as closely as he had needed you to be for months. But it wasn't enough, for either of you.

Leaning even lower, Shino's left hand cascaded down your lower back and you got the message. Immediately, you jumped up and he caught the bottom of your thigh, squeezing your tender flesh with his left hand while his right explored your back, sitting you atop his hip bones. Your legs locked behind Shino, squishing his waist in a way he didn't know he craved so badly. Warmth exuded from your being, a warmth that Shino longed to be blanketed under and hidden within.

"Come back to my place," you said between kisses. Shino just smiled and started to walk, but then you stopped kissing him, making him stop on a dime. Running your fingers up his lapels and allowing his neck the sweet contact, you laughed, "What's in the box, if you can just leave it in the middle of the street?"

With a chuckle, Shino turned around. He noticed Kiba had left, and he felt a wave of satisfaction wash over him. Not putting you down, Shino knelt and picked up the heavy box with his right hand, holding it behind you.

You groaned, scratching his neck lightly, "My stars, you're strong."

"You never noticed?" Shino joked, though a feeling of pride surged through him.

"I've noticed you're impressive in a few different respects," you replied with a teasing lilt. Moving your hips, Shino felt a friction that was positively dream-like and you purred, "Don't you want to impress me?"

"More than anything." And he meant every syllable.

"Good," you hummed, placing a lingering kiss to Shino's lips. You looked at him, eyes more obviously filled with desire than Shino had ever thought visibly possible. "Take me home."

By his lucky stars, Shino would gladly do so for the rest of his life.

Part 2 - The Art of Mutual Pleasure

[lyzsaphrodite]

☾ ⋆*･ﾟI Love You, I Promise :⋆*･ﾟ

Summer DaCosta x fem!reader

synopsis: After Bella die you and Summer break up because it was so hard on the both of you. But during your trip to Ghost Island where you have to share a bed and a failed game of charlie charlie brings feelings back to the light.

warnings: angst, one bed, and ghosts

a/n: hey guys I'm back and finally posting the Summer fic I've been writing since feburary. I had terrible writers block then forgot about it. This definitely isn't the best but I wanted to get it out to y'all because you guys have been waiting months.

wc: 1.7k

It's been a couple of months since you and Summer broke up. You guys broke up tight after Bella passed away. Bella was the one who got you two together in the first place. She knew you both had liked each other since the seventh grade, but were too scared to confess to each other and risk ruining your friendship. Eventually Bella convinced both of you to go to Winter Formal together sophomore year which led to more dates and finally you guys got together. Bella was one of your best friends, so when she died it was like a piece of you died. It was like that for everyone in the friend group. It was like with this piece missing, your heart didn't know how to act and neither did Summer’s. Which resulted in her snapping at you that then turned into a bad fight which resulted in a break up. _____________________________ Now you are on the boat to Ghost Island. Bella always wanted you all to go there together, with or without her. So that's what you were doing. Currently Summer and Leo are acting out the titanic, Ferris is hitting on Summer’s older cousin, and Kayla is sitting next to you. You finally reached the Island and arrived at the Veil Hotel. . Bella had always talked about visiting this eerie island with her friends, and despite her absence, you were determined to honor her memory by making this trip.

The evening was tinged with a sense of unease. The old hotel’s faded elegance seemed to echo with the ghosts of the past. As the night descended, you all made your way to the grand hotel suite you had reserved. The excitement of exploring the grand old building quickly turned into confusion as you entered the suite and realized something was off.

The suite was beautifully decorated, but there was a problem—there were not enough beds to accommodate everyone comfortably. The realization dawned on the group as you began unpacking.

“I thought we had more rooms,” Leo said, frowning as he surveyed the space.

“It must be a mistake,” Summer said, her voice tinged with frustration as she looked around. “There’s no way we can all fit.”

Ferris, ever the opportunist, quipped, “Looks like we’re going to have to get cozy.”

You and Summer exchanged glances. The arrangement meant that you two would have to share a bed—a prospect that felt like a cruel twist of fate given your unresolved issues.

“I can’t believe I have to share a bed with Summer,” you muttered, a mix of disbelief and frustration in your tone.

Kayla tried to diffuse the tension. “We can figure this out. It’s only for a few nights.”

The group made the best of the situation, setting up makeshift sleeping arrangements in the living area and trying to adapt to the unexpected scenario. You and Summer, though, were left with the task of facing the reality of sharing a bed.

As the night fell, you both tried to find some semblance of comfort in the cramped space. The bed felt smaller than it had before, the physical closeness a stark reminder of the emotional distance between you. Every rustle of the sheets and every shift in position felt amplified, and the silence between you was heavy with unspoken words.

Hours passed, and the emotional exhaustion from the day began to take its toll. The discomfort of the bed and the tension between you seemed to fade as sleep overtook you. In the quiet of the night, the proximity and shared warmth became a comfort rather than a burden.

You awoke the next morning to the surprising and intimate reality of being wrapped in Summer’s arms. Her body was pressed against yours, her breath warm on your neck. For a moment, you lay still, absorbing the closeness and the odd sense of peace it brought. The shared bed had, in the quiet hours of the night, become a cocoon where the walls between you felt softer.

Summer stirred beside you, her eyes blinking open. The realization of the situation seemed to hit her instantly. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly pulled away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Oh, um, good morning,” she stammered, her voice tinged with awkwardness. “Sorry about that.”

You turned to face her, trying to mask your frustration with a sigh. “Seriously, Summer? We’re sharing a bed. It happened while we were asleep. It’s fine.”

Summer looked at you with a mix of relief and lingering awkwardness. “I just... I didn’t want to overstep boundaries, you know? Things have been weird between us.”

You shook your head, your tone softening. “It’s okay. Just... let’s not make this more complicated than it is.”

Throughout the day, there was an unspoken tension between you and Summer that everyone in the group seemed to notice. Conversations felt stilted, and the usual camaraderie of the group was overshadowed by the weight of the unresolved issues between you two. You both tried to act normally, but the awkwardness was palpable, affecting the dynamics of the group.

After the ghostly encounters and attempts to connect with Bella, the group decided to try something different. They decided to play a game of Charlie Charlie, but with a twist—invoking Bella’s spirit. The mood was a mix of apprehension and hope as everyone gathered in the hotel’s grand living area, setting up the game in the center of the room.

The planchette was carefully placed on the notebook, the words “Yes” and “No” written out. You all took your places, hands trembling slightly as you prepared to ask questions.

“Bella, are you here with us?” Summer asked, her voice wavering with a mix of hope and anxiety.

The planchette moved slowly, settling on “Yes.” A collective breath was held as you all exchanged glances, the tension of the day momentarily forgotten in the face of this new attempt to connect with Bella.

“Bella, are you happy we’re here?” Kayla asked next. The planchette moved again to “Yes.”

The group continued asking questions, hoping to find some comfort or guidance. Then Summer, with a trembling voice, asked, “Bella, who am I in love with?”

The planchette moved, its path deliberate and unyielding. It stopped, pointing directly at Leo. The room fell into a heavy silence. Summer’s face fell, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of confusion and hurt. She stared at the board, unable to comprehend the message. “This isn’t Bella,” she said softly, her voice cracking with emotion.

Unable to bear the weight of the moment, Summer abruptly stood up and left the room in a hurry. The sound of her footsteps echoed down the hall, leaving behind a tense silence.

You quickly followed after her, your heart pounding as you navigated the dimly lit corridors of the hotel. You found her in the hallway, leaning against the wall, her face buried in her hands. Her body shook with silent sobs.

“Why did you ask that question?” you demanded, your voice sharp with frustration. “If you didn’t want Leo to know, you shouldn’t have asked.”

“That’s the thing though!” Summer snapped back, her voice rising with a mix of desperation and anger. “I’m not in love with Leo. I’m in love with you. God, you’re so stupid, Y/N!”

Her outburst was a mix of frustration and vulnerability, the raw emotion in her declaration cutting through your already fragile heart. You turned away, unable to keep the tears at bay, and headed to Kayla’s room. The comfort of her presence was a small solace, but it wasn’t enough to erase the hurt.

When you entered Kayla’s room, she looked up with concern but didn’t press you for details. You lay on her bed, curling up in an attempt to find some semblance of peace. Kayla offered a reassuring hand on your shoulder before quietly leaving the room, giving you the space you needed.

Later, Summer knocked on Kayla’s door, her face a canvas of regret and weariness. Kayla gave you a sympathetic look before stepping out, leaving you alone with Summer.

"I need to talk to you," Summer said, her voice trembling with vulnerability. Her eyes were red from crying, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy she usually exuded.

You looked at her, your heart aching at the sight of her distress. "Okay," you replied quietly, trying to steady your emotions.

Summer took a deep breath, her hands wringing together nervously. "I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ve been lost since everything happened. I’ve been trying to keep it together, but I'm messed up."

You remained silent, listening intently as Summer struggled to find the right words.

"I love you," she finally said, her voice breaking. "I love you, and I’m so sorry. I should’ve never ended things like that. I was scared and angry and... I didn’t know how to handle it. But I love you, and I want to make things right."

The sincerity in her voice, the raw emotion in her eyes, cut through the confusion and hurt you had been feeling. Your own tears began to fall, mingling with the tears of regret and longing in Summer’s eyes.

"I miss you, too," you said, your voice choked with emotion. "It’s been so hard without you."

Summer’s eyes softened as she took a step closer, her hands reaching out to yours. "I know," she whispered. "I know I made mistakes, and I’m sorry. I want to fix things between us. I want to be with you."

In that moment, the pain and confusion seemed to melt away, replaced by a fragile hope for reconciliation. You embraced each other, holding on tightly as if trying to anchor yourselves in the midst of the storm. The past was painful, but in each other’s arms, you found a glimmer of healing and a promise of rebuilding what had been lost.

def not my best work I swear my Clarisse fic will be better

taglist: @asvterias , @mira-belcul18 , @ang5289 , @symp4nat

[jusst-you-race]

max and charles, 18!

i hope you don't mind that i made this volleyball au (i miss it) and also that it's... not really a kiss <3 thank you for the prompt!!!

a kiss as encouragement

The whistle blows as Charles slams the ball down on the other side of the court, easily breaking through the opposing block. Max swears loudly, and Checo winces, shaking out the hand that the spike had hit. There’s a chorus of cheers behind him from his team but Charles doesn’t turn to them just yet, instead he waits for Max to look his way. It doesn’t take long, they always seem to find each other’s gaze across the net.  

Charles blows a kiss at Max. Max scowls in response.

“Oh my god Charles you need to stop being a menace or the other team is actually going to kill us.”

Charles rolls his eyes.

“It’s for encouragement, Pear.”

“Encouragement?” Pierre asks sceptically.

“Yes. They are playing terribly today. Max always responds well to being pissed off.”

They both watch where Max has pulled the other team into a huddle, and can just hear his angry spitting from where they’re standing. Daniel looks like he’s trying very hard to placate Max, Lando and Oscar look like they're trying very hard not to laugh. 

Satisfied, Charles turns back to his own team. 

Lewis is levelling him with a very unimpressed look. 

“Charles, if you’re done winding up our opponents now? I’d like to actually talk about strategy.” 

A little bit sheepish, Charles worms his way into the group huddle, tucking himself into Pierre’s side. He only half listens to what Lewis is saying; Pierre is setting today and Charles knows his play style back to front so he’s not worried about missing any tactics. Instead his mind wanders, as it so often does, to Max. 

The blown kiss had mostly been a joke, something he knew would get under Max’s skin, which is Charles’ favourite activity after volleyball. But really, deep down, when he forces himself to acknowledge it, he did sort of want to blow Max a kiss.

It’s not just a kiss you want to blow…

Charles ignores his traitorous brain. The little voice in the back of his head that whispers about Max when he’s caught off guard and not violently beating it back with a stick. It’s getting a little bit louder every time they play the other team, and today has been especially bad. Max had shown up in a clearly borrowed t-shirt that must have been from Lando, judging by how it seemed a size too small. The way the shirt hugs the swell of Max’s chest has been incredibly distracting today, and Charles is genuinely glad that Pierre has been setting. He would have been absolutely screwed if Lewis was making him work for it with his clever sets. 

“Charles isn’t listening, he’s clearly thinking about Max.”

Charles winces, caught, and embarrassed that even Valtteri has picked up on it. Lewis just rolls his eyes. 

“Well Charles will just have to keep up,” he says as he waves his hand to dismiss the team and steps back away from the court. Charles flashes him a winning smile in an attempt to placate him, and then strides to his position by the net. 

Max is directly opposite him now. 

They lock eyes as George prepares to serve somewhere behind Charles. He brings his hands up to protect his head without breaking eye contact with Max. 

The whistle blows.

Max blows a kiss.

Charles’ brain short circuits.