#them talking to their friends about the kiss is everything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luvergirl-866 · 2 days ago

Text

dreams, fairytales, fantasies

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 7.9k

c/w - language, drinking, fluff, and ofc smut (sub p, sub a, strap, eating, fingering…it’s a lot) (also heavy usage of pet names bc i am a sucker for them)

a/n - this is just a real depiction of what happens when lesbians go two weeks without sex 😔. no but fr, i hope yall enjoy!!! (feedback much appreciated, esp bc this is not edited) (also, im majorly crediting the smut queen @basketball-lesbians bc ease and stiff changed the way i write smut forever).

The much anticipated make-up sex doesn’t happen until a week later, which is about six days after they’ve actually made up—which they manage without the involvement of sex. And that’s a great thing for them, considering they have a history of resolving arguments via orgasm, but they also can’t give themselves the credit because the no-sex thing wasn’t really their decision. (If it had been up to them, Azzi would have jumped Paige’s bones that very night they made up).

That day, though, was spent talking, reliving their breakup and the horrible year afterward for the sole purpose of truly processing it. They had continued talking during that time, of course, claiming to be ‘best friends’, but they meticulously danced around the topic of their high school relationship and the fact they were both miserable once it ended, grieving it in their own ways. They talked for hours, and both of them quickly came to realize that there was so much they hadn’t told each other. Azzi was shocked to hear that Paige spent her entire freshman year moping around, never getting out and having fun like Azzi wanted her to do. (“Seriously? I thought you hoed around?” she said when Paige gave her this information. Paige shrugged and said, “I told you I did, so I didn’t seem lame. But yeah, no. I smoked a lot and looked at our pictures and that’s—well, yeah, that’s pretty much it.”)

Paige was just as shocked when Azzi told her she tried going on a date with someone else, just to get the breakup off her mind, and they kissed at the end of the night and she went inside and cried for a long time. (“I didn’t know you went out with anyone,” Paige said, not particularly jealous, just a little hurt because even though they were exes that year, they were still best friends, and they usually told each other everything. Azzi picked her thumbnail, eyebrows drawn at the memory. “It hurt too much. I didn’t even tell my mom.” That, if possible, made Paige feel even worse).

Anyway, by the time they talked everything through (with some crying involved, and maybe a little kissing, too), it was late at night and they were both emotionally exhausted from the day. They’d gotten ready to sleep and laid in Azzi’s bed and murmured about how much they’d missed each other for about two minutes before they promptly assed out.

And then it was the week, their time consumed with classes, homework, practice, and even grownup things like grocery shopping. They spent as much time together as they could, practically magnetized to each other, attached at that hip when they were in the same vicinity. But they were both swamped with homework and while they tried to do it together that Monday, they quickly realized that it was impossible to focus around each other. Or at least, Azzi did. (“C’mon, we’re doing okay,” Paige said, at approximately 1 A.M., when they had been at it for four hours and had gotten absolutely nothing done. “I wouldn’t say that, P,” Azzi mumbled, slinging her bag over her shoulder and pecking a sulking Paige on the lips. “No more school around each other, ‘kay?” She couldn’t help but be amused at Paige’s exaggerated pouting. “I think we’ll be okay. See you tomorrow, baby.”

That night, her phone had blown up with messages from Paige, most of them silly selfies of her pouting at the camera as she sat at her desk with schoolwork laid out in front of her. Even that was enough to distract Azzi from her work).

So, no, it’s not until Saturday—the night of their second-first date—that the make-up sex (that can’t really be considered make-up sex anymore) happens. But, as the saying goes, good things come to those who wait. And that must be true because that night turns out to be very good indeed.

It all starts before the two of them are even together, with Azzi picking her outfit for their date. She’s never been good with decisions, and this is a big one in her book. She needs to wear the perfect outfit—something sexy and cute and romantic and alluring all at once. An hour into choosing the outfit, Caroline is beginning to regret offering to help.

“Okay, you’re just overthinking it now,” she says, exasperated, watching as Azzi frowns at herself in the mirror.

“If I don’t overthink it I’ll end up looking ugly,” Azzi says, turning this way and that in the mirror, making sure the outfit looks good from every angle. But when she takes a step back, leans her head to the side just so, and turns to the left, the shirt suddenly makes her look atrocious. With a frustrated sigh, Azzi takes it off, tossing it onto the ground.

Caroline groans, flopping onto Azzi’s bed. “What was wrong with that one?”

“Everything,” Azzi replies, going back to her closet to try again. “Has my wardrobe always been this bad?” she mutters to herself.

“You look good in everything, Az,” Caroline says. “And your clothes are cute. Paige is going to love you in whatever you decide to wear.”

Which is true—Azzi could be wearing jorts and a flannel and Paige would still swear up and down she’s the prettiest girl in the world. But love and want are two different things. After two weeks of no sex Azzi needs to be wanted.

“You know what your problem is?” Caroline asks as Azzi rummages through her clothes.

“What?” Azzi asks, sort of desperately.

“Your bra,” Caroline says simply.

Azzi looks down at her bra, then turns to Caroline, a little confused. “It’s a cute bra, though?”

“Yeah, it’s cute,” Caroline concedes, leaning back on her hands and giving Azzi an up-and-down look. “But I thought you were trying to get laid tonight?”

Azzi nods, because duh she’s trying to get laid tonight. It’s all she’s been talking about all week.

Caroline wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Then, this isn’t really about your outfit. It’s about what’s underneath.”

As she stares at her genius best friend, Azzi nods slowly, starting to get it. “I need lingerie.”

“Yup.” Caroline smiles, satisfied. “As soon as you put some sexy panties on, I promise you, girl, you’re gonna feel better about yourself.”

Azzi is already reaching back into her closet, opening her special drawer and rifling through it. “Should I wear one she hasn’t seen before?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Caroline agrees, standing up and walking over to Azzi, peering over her shoulder at her array of underwear. “And don’t tell her you’re wearing it, either. It has to be a surprise.”

Azzi pulls a few sets out, but none of them particularly catch her eye, and it isn’t until they’ve been searching for a few minutes that Caroline reaches into the closet and grabs a still-sealed box, the logo of a designer lingerie brand on the lid. “What about this?” she asks.

It takes a moment for her to remember what the box contains. She’d bought it just a month ago, on a whim, and while it had cost her a fortune she also couldn’t not buy it. She’d, of course, had Paige in mind when she’d bought it, but they haven’t exactly had lingerie sex in awhile—with their busy schedules, they’ve only had time for spur-of-the-moment quickies and lazy mouths and fingers in the mornings before practice.

But this—this is going to be post-date, make-up sex. The absolute perfect occasion to wear insanely expensive lingerie catered specifically for Paige.

With an excited smile, Azzi (with the help of Caroline) gets all laced into the set. And once it’s on, it becomes surprisingly easy to choose the perfect outfit. Because Azzi knows, by the end of the night, Paige will forget all about what she’s wearing, the memory replaced by what she’s not.

———————————————

Paige, of course, tries to fuck her multiple times before they even get to the restaurant. It starts immediately, when she comes to pick her up and they share a chaste hug and kiss, and Azzi takes the flowers from her hands and turns to find a vase to put them in—Paige’s eyes trail down to her ass and stay there for longer than she’d like to admit. And then Azzi is carefully arranging the flowers, talking about how excited she is for their date, when Paige comes up behind her and holds her tight. It’s a gesture that Azzi thinks is innocent until Paige kisses her neck and murmurs, “You look good, Az. Makes me wanna make us late for our reservation.”

Azzi’s entire body heats at that, but she playfully shoves Paige away, not about to let their hormones get in the way of this date.

But then, it happens again, in the car on the way over. Paige’s hand rests on Azzi’s thigh while she drives, which isn’t unusual, and Azzi doesn’t question it—that is, until her fingers trace a slow but sure path between her legs. Azzi lets it go farther than she probably should, only pulling Paige’s hand away once she’s fully touching her clothed center. Laughing, Azzi returns Paige’s hand onto her side of the car. “Your thigh-touching privileges are revoked for that.”

Paige groans. “I didn’t even do nothing, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just keep your hands to yourself, weirdo.”

And when they get to the restaurant, Paige opens her door for her, guides her in by the small of her back, pulls out her chair. It reminds Azzi of a more mature, experienced version of the Paige she dated in high school, and it reminds her exactly why their relationship was so perfect back then. It also reminds her of the aching need between her legs, the one that’s been there for two long weeks and that now practically burns in anticipation. But, she forces herself to ignore it, to just focus on the romance of it all. Paige decides to make that difficult by running a foot up and down her calf, and when she hisses at her to stop, Paige laughs and says, “You’re imagining things.”

It’s not five minutes later that Paige picks up her phone and begins typing. A flash of annoyance comes from the side of Azzi that thrives off attention, more particularly Paige’s attention, and that’s so used to constantly having it it’s a little off-putting when she doesn’t. But then, a moment later, her own phone buzzes, and Paige sets her’s down with a satisfied little smirk.

Azzi rolls her eyes. “You’re stupid.”

“Look at your phone.”

“That’s rude,” Azzi teases. “We’re on our first date.”

“We’ve been on a million dates before,” Paige says, which is technically true. “Look at it.”

Amidst the usual lighthearted, joking tone of Paige’s words, Azzi also catches a hint of something demanding, something that leaves no room for argument—at least, not without repercussion—and it makes it impossible to focus on the setting they’re in without also thinking of the events that will occur when they get home.

She picks up her phone, and there’s a text from one ‘P Boogs 💗’. When she opens it, she finds a stupid, horny text, nothing short of what she expected: can we go fuck in the bathroom or??

Rolling her eyes, and a little relieved that Paige didn’t actually write anything sexy (because if she had, Azzi’s not sure she would’ve been able to resist), she kicks her under the table and sets her phone down. “No, Paige. What’d I say about no more public restrooms?”

Reminiscent of a small child, Paige crosses her arms and slumps back in her seat. “I rebuke that.”

“You don’t know what that word means,” Azzi waves her off, before motioning to their plates. “Now eat before your food gets cold.”

Azzi has only two glasses of wine, so by the time they’re driving home she’s the perfect amount of tipsy. Wine also tends to make her horny, which doesn’t hurt the situation.

“You’re really okay?” Paige asks for what seems like the millionth time. “Because if you’re even, like, a little drunk, we don’t have to—“

“Paige,” Azzi says before she can finish that god-awful sentence. “I’m mostly sober. We’re all good.”

Paige glances over at her, and when she sees the firm look in her eyes she nods, relaxing into a sly smile. As she focuses back on the road, she says, “Good. Because I have an empty apartment tonight.”

The thought of it—the thought that Paige asked her roommates to clear out for the night, knowing what was to come—makes Azzi shift in her seat. The ache between her legs is crossing into painful territory at this point.

By the time they get inside Paige’s apartment, every instinct in Azzi’s body tells her to jump Paige’s bones as soon as the door is locked behind them. But Paige doesn’t really give her a chance—first kicking off her shoes and then immediately heading towards the kitchen. Azzi trails behind her as she opens the fridge.

“Hungry?” Azzi asks, a little confused considering they just had a fairly large meal at dinner. But Paige shakes her head, reaching into the side drawer of the fridge and pulling out a seltzer.

She waves it at Azzi with a smile, though it’s a little unusual—almost wavering? Not the familiar one Azzi’s used to. “Wanted a little drink.”

“Okay,” Azzi says slowly, leaning against the counter, watching as Paige cracks the can open. She shouldn’t be surprised—she herself is tipsy and it’s only fair that Paige would want to catch up after she had to drive. But Azzi has been a little blinded by the filthy thoughts that have been playing through her head all night, and was under the impression they’d fuck against the front door the minute they got home.

She’s already waited two weeks, she reminds herself. Paige only needs a drink or two—they don’t want to be drunk, not tonight—so what’s a couple more minutes?

“It’s kinda hot in here,” Paige says abruptly, and when Azzi looks at her, her cheeks flush. “Isn’t it?”

Azzi’s a little warm, but it’s mostly a mix of the alcohol and pure horniness, so she shakes her head. “Feels okay to me.”

“Oh,” Paige says, and then takes a long swig of her seltzer. She offers up that strange, wavering smile again.

Azzi studies her. This is her best friend, the girl she knows better than she knows herself. Paige is practically an extension of her at this point, it’s that easy for them to read each other. But right now, Paige is acting strange in a way Azzi can’t quite place. She’s been flirting like normal all night, but now that they’re alone she’s putting space between them. And that’s not to mention the blushing, the weird smiling, and the need for a drink.

As Paige takes an extra-long gulp of seltzer, it finally clicks where Azzi has seen this behavior from her: Back in high school, not long into their relationship, the first time they had sex.

She’s nervous.

But, no, that can’t be it, can it? They’ve slept together countless times in the four years since then. Paige knows Azzi’s body like the back of her hand. There’s no reason to be nervous.

Sure that she’s got it all wrong, Azzi crosses over to Paige, watching the way Paige’s gaze falters as she sidles up to her. “Hey,” she says, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck, “you good?”

Paige blinks, then swallows thickly. “Me? Yeah, I’m all good.” She takes a sip from her drink. “Why you asking?”

Azzi hums, bringing a hand down to guide Paige’s free one to her waist—something she usually never has to do, as Paige tends to be pretty handsy. “You’re acting…weird, all of a sudden.”

Paige gives her a long, hard look, and Azzi thinks she’s about to deny it again but then Paige is sighing and setting her drink on the counter behind her, wrapping both arms around Azzi’s waist. “I guess I feel a little…nervous, for some reason?” she shakes her head, locks her hands behind Azzi’s back as if to steady them. “I’on know, bro. It’s stupid.”

Azzi shakes her head, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of Paige’s neck. “It’s not stupid.”

“Kinda is,” Paige says, chuckling at herself but it’s a shaky, breathy sound.

“Hey,” Azzi says gently, bringing a hand up to brush a stray strand of hair from Paige’s face, “if you’re not up to it, we don’t have to.” (Even though she spent the entire night suffering through a thong up her ass. The things we do for love.)

But Paige firmly shakes her head, gripping Azzi’s waist more tightly just to show how much she means it. “No, I don’t—you have no idea how much—“

“Yes, I do,” Azzi says incredulously. “I really fucking do.”

Paige’s breath hitches, and her gaze flicks down to Azzi’s lips. Azzi does the same, allured by the shiny gloss there, knowing it’s vanilla flavored from their previous chaste kisses tonight. She wants to taste more of it. Wonders if Paige’s lotion is vanilla, too.

“P,” she murmurs. Paige’s eyes don’t waver away when she hums, “Yeah?”

“Don’t be nervous,” she says quietly, bringing a hand down to cup her cheek, which gets Paige to look at her. “You know me,” she almost whispers.

Slowly, Paige nods, and when she leans down to connect their lips, Azzi nearly groans at the slight contact. It’s chaste to the point of innocent but it’s something, and they’re alone, and god does Paige look so good in this outfit. Paige readjusts, shifting so their legs are slotted together as she deepens the kiss just slightly, and Azzi reminisces on how she’s been waiting for this all night. Since that fateful night at Ted’s, really.

With Paige’s leg between her thighs, Azzi takes the opportunity to bare down, just slightly, only enough to increase the tension between her legs more than relieve it. But Paige groans into her mouth at the feeling and it lights her senses on fire.

They found a good dynamic years ago, and it’s one in which Paige often leads, allowing Azzi to follow without giving her the responsibility of being the first to move, to make decisions—something she’s always been more hesitant with. The past six months they’ve experimented some, stepping out of the comfort zone they had in high school and trying new things. But they still found that, for the most part, Paige prefers to lead, and Azzi prefers to be led—it just works.

But, even now, as Azzi dips her tongue into Paige’s mouth and brushes it against her’s, Paige still seems a little withheld. It’s obvious that she’s overthinking this, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why—this is big for them. They’ve talked about their feelings and gone on their first date and this feels a little like the last step in a routine that will throw them back into that all-consuming, intense relationship they had in high school. Which is exciting, and it feels natural, like it’s only the right thing to do—but it’s a little scary, too. And, knowing she’s being expected to lead, Paige is worried about getting it wrong. Messing up, somehow.

So when Azzi pushes against the fabric of Paige’s blazer, letting it slip off her shoulders, it’s not really a conscious thought that she’s taking over this time. It’s just—something she needs to do. And, if the absolute fire in her belly says anything, it’s something she wants to do, too.

Opening her mouth a little wider, Azzi sucks Paige’s tongue gently between her lips, drawing it out slightly, and when she pulls off it she opens her eyes to find Paige with her mouth wide open, tongue out, barely five minutes into kissing and already looking so desperate for her.

The sight makes Azzi groan a little, her eyes trailing from Paige’s lips, to the curve of her jaw, to her slender neck, and without thinking about it she slides her hands around Paige’s throat, squeezing experimentally. It elicits the right reaction, Paige’s eyes widening, hands sliding down to Azzi’s ass.

Pulling her close again, Azzi ducks down, moving a hand to the side to kiss sloppily at the skin revealed there. Paige sighs, always having liked being kissed on the neck, and Azzi mutters, “Marks?”

There’s a slight pause, Azzi’s lips hovering just shy of kissing the skin of Paige’s neck, and as soon as Paige hums out a noise of affirmation, she’s basically attacking her, tongue soothing over skin as she sucks hungrily. Her hips grind instinctively down on Paige’s knee as her hands slide lower, down her chest to squeeze her tits through her thin tank. Paige gasps, using her leverage on Azzi’s ass to pull her down harder on her leg. At this point, she’s sure she’s soaking through her fancy lingerie just listening to the little noises Paige is making, and suddenly, Azzi feels hungry. The kind of hungry that tends to be insatiable.

As soon as the thought comes to her, her hands fly to the button of Paige’s jeans, staring down to watch her hands work it open. Paige watches, too, then brings a hand up to Azzi’s cheek. Azzi halts her movements, looking up at her, searching her face for any sign to stop and finding a little hesitancy there. “Hey,” she says, “you good?”

Paige nods, then glances furtively down at Azzi’s hands. “I don’t think I’m ready for—your fingers.”

Soothing her hands across Paige’s hips, Azzi nods, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek. “I know, baby,” she says—Paige has always needed a good amount of buildup before any actual intrusion. “Wasn’t gonna use my fingers.”

Paige blinks, thoughts obviously a little sluggish as it takes a moment for the words to register, but once she does, she nods eagerly. “Shit. Okay.”

With one last peck on the lips, Azzi’s fingers get back to work, and as she slides the jeans down her legs she goes down with them, dropping slowly to her knees. She helps Paige step out of the pants and then tosses them to the side, looping her arms around her thighs and urging her to widen her stance. She presses a few comforting kisses to Paige’s pelvic bone and across her hips, breathing in the familiar scent of her as her kisses stray lower. As she licks up the inside of a thigh, her eyes open, glancing at the girl’s boxers and the wet patch growing on them. Feeling quite proud of herself, she smirks, biting at her thigh and relishing in the way Paige hisses.

“Stop messin’ with me,” Paige breathes, bringing a hand to Azzi’s head and trying to move her closer to her cunt.

“Uh-uh,” Azzi says, using a hand of her own to move Paige’s firmly away. When she looks up at her, Paige looks wrecked, which does amazing things to Azzi’s ego considering she hasn’t even touched her yet. Loving the expression on Paige’s face—lips slightly parted, eyes fluttering, the picture of submission—she decides to try and coax more out of her. “No touching,” she adds, something Paige likes to do whenever she’s being particularly needy. When Paige starts to protest, she moves her hand to her clothed clit and rubs harshly, cutting her off. “You heard me, baby.”

Paige’s eyebrows furrow, either from pleasure or annoyance or, more likely, both. “Azzi, please—“

“Shh,” Azzi soothes, removing her thumb and licking a stripe up her boxers—the faintest taste of her already addictive. “Be patient.”

She expects more resistance—the few times they’ve switched roles like this, it takes at least an orgasm for Paige to take her commands. But today must be different—is different—and Paige dutifully shuts up, using her hands to brace herself against the counter as she tilts her head down to watch.

Pleased, Azzi removes her boxers, salivating at the pretty pink peeking out from between her legs, and it’s all she can do when she uses her thumbs to spread her open, groaning when she gets a good look at the familiar, dripping folds. “So pretty,” she can’t help but mumble, leaning forward to press a kiss against her, licking her lips to taste the arousal left there. Paige’s hips buck, and Azzi gives her a sharp slap to the thigh. Paige nearly whines, which is kinda new—they’ll have to experiment with it later. “What’d I say, hm?” she asks, unable to keep herself from pressing her tongue between her cunt lips and licking upward, eyes nearly rolling into the back of her head at the taste. “Be patient.”

“Fuck,” Paige gasps above her.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint in Azzi’s body to not just dive in and devour her like a woman starved. It’s been far too long since she went down on Paige, even before their two weeks of celibacy, and she wants nothing more than to push her tongue inside and draw out as much slick as she can. But she also knows all too well that Paige likes to be ate slow. So, slow it is, as she licks up around her folds, tongue dragging delicately over her clit.

Her eyes fall shut, focusing on how wet Paige is against her tongue, dipping just slightly into her hole where the taste is the strongest and reveling at how good it is.

When Paige makes a high-pitched noise in the back of her throat, Azzi looks up at her, watching her reaction as she gently sucks her clit into her mouth. Paige is leaning back against the counter, cunt pressed into Azzi’s face desperately, and it’s obvious she’s trying to keep still. But when Azzi’s tongue flicks against her clit as she sucks, Paige can’t help but gasp, hips bucking just slightly.

With painted nails, Azzi squeezes her thigh just enough to get her attention. When Paige looks down at her, she pulls off her clit with a wet noise and says, “Hold your shirt up, babe.”

It’s amazing how quickly Paige obeys, rucking her tank up to reveal her bare chest, nipples pink and hard. Azzi doesn’t even try to stop herself from reaching up to play with one of them as she dives back into her pussy.

Her clit is already puffy, sensitive to her every touch based off the way Paige moans when she flicks her tongue against it. She licks little shapes, taking note of which ones draw the most sound out of the older girl. It’s mostly for her own benefit when she traces the letters of her own name on her pussy, but Paige whines high-pitched and needy like she knows.

Azzi pulls away just enough to see that her clit is an angrier pink now, twitching almost imperceptibly, and she gives it a break, moving lower to suck around her hole, drinking the copious juices she’s teased out. When she presses her tongue inside, she finds much less resistance than last time, and her fingers itch to be inside her.

This time, when she pulls away, Paige whines again—the sound a mix of frustration and desperation—and Azzi soothes a hand up the inside of her thigh. Paige’s eyes are hooded now as they lock with Azzi’s, and Azzi smiles up at her. “Hey,” she mutters.

“Uh-huh,” Paige breathes, nearly panting at this point.

“Think you’re ready?” Azzi asks. Paige gives her a quizzical look and she holds up her right hand in explanation. “Wanna finger you.”

As if on their own accord, Paige’s hips jerk forward. When she says, “Yes,” it’s nothing more than a breathy little sigh, but it’s enough.

Nodding, her eyes go back to Paige’s cunt, gaze immediately going to her hole, clenching around nothing. She brings two fingers up and dips inside, then drags them through her pretty folds, making sure they’re plenty wet. And then, without another warning, she plunges into her pussy, moaning as she’s immediately swallowed by wet heat.

Paige’s reaction is visceral, hips pressing down to meet her halfway, hands falling to her head, previous no-touching rules forgotten. Azzi decides to let it go, though, as she watches Paige’s features contort beautifully, pleasure etched into every sound she makes.

Azzi pulls out, presses deeper. Does it again, and then stays inside long enough to push up against her walls.

It’s then that Paige starts talking.

“Oh, fuck, Azzi,” she breathes, still generally pretty quiet, something Azzi plans to have changed once she’s done with her. “You feel so—good, Az, fingers feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” Azzi coos. She loves it when Paige gets to the babbling stage of fucking, and is quick to egg her on. “You like that, huh?”

“Mm-hmm, missed it—needed it—I don’t—“ she chokes on her sentence when Azzi plunges particularly deep. “Oh, baby, right there. So fucking good at that.”

“I know,” she murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to Paige’s clit. “You missed me, right? Missed this?”

“Of course I—“ she gasps, arches forward, “did.”

Suddenly, Azzi speeds up, filthy squelching sounds filling the room as her fingers move relentlessly inside Paige, palm coming to meet her clit again and again. Paige mewls, shifting a little, and Azzi uses her free hand to hoist her leg over her shoulder, allowing for a better angle.

“Oh!” Paige cries out, hands gripping Azzi’s head for leverage. “Oh, oh fuck. Baby, baby—mm, so deep—Azzi, more.”

“More?” Azzi asks, pulling her eyes away from where she’s wrecking Paige’s cunt to double-check. Paige usually can’t take more than two.

“Uh-huh,” Paige nods fervently.

Azzi doesn’t slow down, concern about hurting the other girl cutting through her own haze of pleasure. “You sure?”

“Yes,” Paige says, exasperation filling her voice.

“I just don’t want to hurt y—“

“Azzi, if you don’t give me another finger right now I swear to God—“

That’s all it takes for Azzi to pause her movements, pulling out enough to add another finger, and finding it surprisingly easy when she slides back in again. It’s not long before she builds up to her earlier rhythm, Paige’s hips moving against her hand, and then wet sounds are filling the room again, slick trailing down Azzi’s wrist.

Somewhere between Paige’s high-pitched moans and desperate little whines, she calls Azzi’s name. Azzi presses a kiss to her belly and says, “Yeah?”

“Can you—?” there’s hesitance in her tone that gives Azzi pause, movements slowing once again to look up at her.

“What’s up?” she prompts, gently as possibly through the arousal scraping rough against her vocal chords.

“Just, come here,” Paige finally says, hands moving from Azzi’s head to her shoulders, urging her up.

Azzi softens, mind becoming a little less cloudy at the request. Carefully, she eases Paige’s leg off her shoulder, then works up to her feet, keeping her fingers firmly inside Paige all the while. As soon as she’s up, Paige’s arms go around her shoulders, pulling her in, and Azzi smiles softly at the absolutely fucked-out, but undeniably lovesick, look on the other girl’s face.

Pressing a kiss to Paige’s cheek, she starts moving again, staying close so that Paige’s lips are right by her ear, hearing every sound she makes.

“I love you,” Paige mutters, forehead dropping onto Azzi’s shoulder.

Azzi presses a smile into Paige’s hairline, the gesture so innocent compared to the hand between her legs. “Love you, too, P.”

At that, Paige chokes on a moan, only just managing a feeble, “I’m close.”

Azzi nods, doubling her efforts. “Take your time, baby.”

“Mm-hmm,” Paige hums, but then she’s reiterating, “oh, fuck, Azzi, I’m really fuckin’ close.”

To be honest, Azzi is, too. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s come untouched, deriving pleasure from the simple act of giving it to Paige. But she holds back, forces herself to focus on the girl in her arms, running her free hand up and down Paige’s waist. “Yeah? About to come?”

Paige grasps her tighter, too fucked out to respond, but her following whines are answer enough.

“Give it to me, P,” she urges, knowing words are always the last thing Paige needs to tip her over the edge. “Wanna feel you coming all over my fingers, okay? Need you to show me how good I make you feel.”

Paige nods, and Azzi coos a, “Good, girl,” into her ear, and that’s all it takes for Paige’s hips to stutter, abs tightening as she spasms around Azzi’s fingers, crying out her name like it’s the only word she remembers. And at this point, it might be.

It takes awhile for her to come down, letting Azzi continue to thrust slowly for another minute or so before finally pushing her away. “Too much,” she breathes.

“Okay, baby,” Azzi says, pulling out slowly, bringing her hand up to Paige’s lips once she’s done. Paige doesn’t hesitate to take them into her mouth and suck, and it’s as she runs her tongue between her fingers that Azzi is reminded of just how magical her mouth is. Trying to sound casual, Azzi takes her hand back and says, “Hey, you all done?”

Paige is panting, hands going down to hold Azzi by the waist, looking as if she can barely hold herself up—but still, she shakes her head. “Nah, I can go for more.”

“Good,” Azzi says, stepping out of Paige’s grasp with a sly smile. Paige opens her mouth to protest but then Azzi swiftly pulls her shirt over her head, revealing her lavender lacy bra which leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Whatever Paige was about to say dies in her throat. “I may have planned for this when I was getting ready.”

Her pants are still on—Paige hasn’t even had the pleasure of seeing the garter yet—but already her jaw is practically on the floor. “Oh, shit.”

“Uh-huh.” Reaching out, she takes Paige’s hand in her own, leading her down the familiar path to Paige’s room. “You can thank Caroline, by the way. Was her idea.”

“For real?” Paige asks as they enter the bedroom. She plops down on the edge of the bed, watching as Azzi locks the door behind them. Her eyes rake not-so-subtly over her frame as she watches her. “I’ll send her a card and flowers for this shit.”

Azzi laughs breathily, leaning against the doorframe.

Paige raises her eyebrows and then reaches behind her head, pulling her own shirt off and discarding it on the floor. “Aight, I think I can feel my legs again. Lay down, mama.” She smiles deviously. “I’m bouta get you right.”

—————————————

Paige has never been a good liar—which is clear, considering twenty minutes later she has her head between Azzi’s thighs, making her legs shake as she eats her relentlessly.

She’s already put on the strap, and this is her way of getting Azzi ready—alternating between eating her slow and then absolutely devouring her, pulling away every time she gets close to the edge, overstimulating her without even making her come.

“Paige, please,” she basically cries out for the nth time since they started. “I need you.”

Paige only smirks from between her legs, quite cocky considering she just got fucked into oblivion less than an hour ago. “What was it you said to me earlier? About being patient?”

Azzi rolls her eyes (though it may be more from the way Paige sucks on her folds than how annoying she is). “Mm—shut up, you liked it.”

Paige sure as hell isn’t about to admit that. Of course, though, she had enjoyed it, had reveled in the pleasure she took from giving up control, letting herself be told what to do. But now it’s Azzi’s turn, and she needs to regain control of the situation-hence, the edging. “Do you want me to fuck you?” she asks, muffled in Azzi’s pussy. “Or not?”

Azzi can’t say no to that, obviously, but still sounds a little ashamed when she lets out a meek little, “Yes.”

Paige quirks an eyebrow up at her. “Yeah? You done bossing me around?”

Azzi doesn’t respond to that, lips forming into a cute little pout that’s also reminiscent of the face she makes when she gets bratty. Chuckling, Paige shakes her head, pressing a lingering kiss to her clit. “I’on think so, baby. You had your fun.” Slowly, she crawls her way back up the bed, Azzi scooching up with her. “Now you’re gonna tell me watchu want. And you’re gonna be polite about it.”

The demanding tone in Paige’s voice is usually enough to set Azzi right, but she must’ve gotten too big a head after her little stunt earlier because now she doesn’t say anything, just looks at Paige a little defiantly.

Admittedly, she looks adorable, and Paige wants to kiss that look off her face. But she can’t let Azzi think that this is how it’s gonna be now. “Alright, pretty girl. If that’s how you’re gonna be, I’ma get right back down there and make you come on my tongue. You won’t get no strap tonight.”

At that threat (which is baseless, considering Paige is absolutely going to strap Azzi down one way or another tonight) Azzi’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “Okay, okay, no, I’m sorry, I don’t—I need you inside, Paige. Please?”

Grinning, Paige leans down and kisses her forehead. “That’s what I thought.”

Taking the silicon in her hand, Paige balances on one elbow as she drags it slowly through Azzi’s folds, taking extra care to bump the head against her swollen clit. When Azzi gasps, her eyes flit to her face, checking that she’s okay. “You ready, baby girl?”

Azzi hesitates, looking down at the toy between them. “It’s bigger than the last one.”

It’s true—this is a new strap, one Azzi herself actually suggested, claiming she wanted to try something bigger. They still have their last one, just in case this doesn’t work out, and Paige is about to remind her of that when Azzi shakes her head to herself and says, “It’s okay, I’m good.”

“You sure?” Paige asks suspiciously. “Because if it’s too big…”

“Nope. I’m sure.”

“Babe, we don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna.”

Azzi’s eyes move down to follow the cock, watching as Paige moves it methodically through her soaking folds, and her eyes grow a little wider. “Yeah, okay, I’m definitely sure.”

Amused, Paige watches as the younger girl stares, incredibly hungrily, at the toy. “Okay, princess. You gotta tell me if it hurts, though, okay?”

“I will,” Azzi promises. With that, Paige guides the tip down to her entrance, pushing her hips forward and against the resistance she finds there, studying Azzi’s face carefully.

After a moment, the head slides in, and Azzi gasps, wincing a little. “You good?” Paige asks, taking her hand off the cock to stroke Azzi’s cheek.

“Good,” Azzi confirms, swallowing thickly as her eyes meet Paige’s. “Just—go slow.”

“‘Course,” Paige says, leaning forward to press their foreheads together as she pushes in further. “Sweet girl,” she murmurs, mostly to distract her, “y’look so pretty like this, mama.”

She’s about halfway in at this point and Azzi gasps again, breathing out a word that sounds enough like a stop for Paige to halt. “Too much?”

Azzi’s knees are bent, feet flat against the mattress as Paige lays between them, but now she readjusts, wrapping them around Paige’s back for better leverage. “Okay,” she says once she’s done, giving Paige a little nod. “I’m good, keep going.”

Not loving the bossy tone of her voice, Paige makes a face at her. “Manners, princess.”

Azzi frowns but still lets out a little, “Please,” anyway.

With that, Paige jerks her hips, burying the dildo inside to the hilt. Azzi cries out, surprised and left breathless from the sheer stretch of it. “Shit,” she breathes, “so much for going slow.”

“Mm,” Paige hums, ducking down to kiss into Azzi’s neck. “‘S what you get for being bratty.”

“Yeah, okay,” Azzi sighs—Paige can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or actually conceding—and her head falls to the side, allowing more access to her neck, which Paige already marked up earlier.

“I good to move?” Paige asks.

“I think so,” Azzi replies, breath still caught from the sudden fullness.

Paige rocks her hips back, eyes flitting from Azzi’s face to her pussy, unable to keep from watching as she slides back in, eyes widening as she watches her cunt swallow it whole, basically sucking her in.

When she does it again, a little more smoothly this time, Azzi fists the bedsheets so hard her knuckles turn white. “Mmph—so deep, P.”

“Yeah? Feel good?” she asks lowly, rutting her hips flush into her when Azzi nods, building a steady rhythm. Her eyes land on Azzi’s face, contorted with pleasure, then rove down over her body—her neck, her tits, her stomach—until she lands back on the strap. The sight has her leaning down on her elbows, heart racing as she breathes deep to steady herself.

Picking up the pace just a little, Paige lifts herself up, watching as Azzi’s eyebrows furrow, her fists tight in the sheets. The bed is starting to squeak now, which just turns her on even more if that’s possible, and she nuzzles her nose into the crook of Azzi’s neck, muttering, “Hold on to me, baby, it’s okay.”

Azzi’s arms come up to loop around her neck before she’s even done with the sentence, and Paige smirks, pressing a few kisses into her cheek. “How’s it feel, hm? How deep am I?”

“So fucking deep,” Azzi breathes, and it shouldn’t come as a surprise how close she sounds considering Paige has been working her towards the edge for awhile now.

Paige brings a hand down between their bodies, using it to rub a few tight circles against Azzi’s clit, stopping when she starts whining. And Azzi makes a sound of protest but it’s quickly cut off by a moan when Paige’s hand moves instead to press against her lower abdomen, pushing down hard enough to feel the strap moving inside her.

“Baby, baby, please,” Azzi slurs, crying out in time with Paige’s thrusts, “right there—keep doing that, fuck.”

Who would Paige be to tell her no? There’s that whiny edge to her tone, all desperate and needy, a telltale sign she’s getting close. Pressing down a little harder on her stomach, Paige speeds up significantly, angling her hips up in an attempt to hit that spot deep inside.

Based off the high-pitched moan Azzi let’s put, it works.

“Shit, look at that,” Paige says when she looks between them again. The strap is soaking now, and so are the bedsheets, a mix of Paige and Azzi’s arousal leaking down onto them. Angling her hand down, Paige uses her fingers to spread her lips open, groaning as she gets a better view of Azzi’s cunt swallowing the entire dick. “Taking it so good, mama. Fuck, that pussy crying for my dick, huh?”

“Paige, fuck, yes,” Azzi gasps, clawing almost desperately at Paige’s shoulders.

“Close?” Paige asks, trying to gauge where she’s at based off the way her legs are beginning to shake, noises becoming less breathy, more insistent.

Azzi nods, maybe all she can manage at this point, and Paige rocks forward deep, pleased with the way Azzi’s mouth falls open, tits bouncing with each thrust.

They’re silent for a few moments, nothing but the sound of the bedframe fighting for its life and Azzi’s pussy squelching around her cock filling the room. “Hear that?” she asks, using her fingers to rub harshly against her clit, only adding to the filthy sounds in the room. “Best pussy in the world, baby. And it’s mine, huh?”

Azzi only manages a pathetic “uh-huh”, and that’s just not good enough for Paige. “Nah, you gotta tell me, princess. Tell me whose pussy this is and I’ll let you come, okay?”

It takes Azzi a moment, probably trying to gather her scattered thoughts, before she whines out a needy little, “Yours, fuck, my pussy’s all fucking yours.”

Nodding, Paige presses a kiss to Azzi’s parted lips. “That’s right, mama. You wanna come?”

Tears are gathering at the corners of Azzi’s eyes when she nods, and it only spurs Paige on further. “Go ahead, pretty girl. Come all fuckin’ over my dick. Lemme feel it, baby.”

And that’s all Azzi needs, her back arching off the bed, moaning all high-pitched as she comes, pussy clenching around the dildo, nails scratching down Paige’s back, leaving her shuddering. She doesn’t stop, though, rolling her hips deep into Azzi’s through every tremor, only stilling when Azzi shakes her head, tapping against Paige’s hip.

She gives her a moment to catch her breath before saying, “Can I pull out?”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi sighs, throwing an arm across her face as Paige slowly eases out of her. She manages to get the strap off and tosses it onto the floor, a problem for future them to deal with, before laying next to Azzi, pulling her into her chest. She chuckles at Azzi’s blissed-out expression, and Azzi’s eyes open at the sound, peering at her a little sleepily.

“You laughing?” she asks, no real accusation in her tone.

“At you? Never,” Paige jokes. Azzi slaps her chest, collapsing back onto it, sighing as she wraps a leg around Paige’s waist. She’s not the touchiest person in general, and Paige finds it endearing how snuggly she gets after sex.

Her hands begin to run up and down Azzi’s bare back, and when she hears Azzi sigh, she’s quick to speak, trying to catch the younger girl before she inevitably falls asleep. “Hey,” she says, “you okay?”

“Mm,” Azzi hums.

“Was it good?” Paige asks, even though she already knows the answer.

“Very,” Azzi replies, cuddling closer into Paige’s neck. “Missed you.”

“Two weeks is too long,” Paige agrees. Azzi chuckles softly, and Paige angles her head to look at her, only to find that her eyes are closed and her lips are slightly parted.

“Why are you tryna sleep,” Paige very nearly whines.

Azzi lifts her head lazily, resting her chin on Paige’s chest to raise an eyebrow at her. “Because you just fucked the shit outta me. I’m tired.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Paige sighs dreamily.

Rolling her eyes, Azzi lays her head back down, settling back into her. “Lemme sleep, okay? I need some energy for the morning sex tomorrow.”

“F’real?” Paige can’t keep the excitement out of her tone at this.

Azzi shrugs coyly, yawns. “If you’re good.”

Internally, Paige vows to be the absolute best. Even if it means no yapping.

Her silence only lasts a few moments but, surprisingly, it’s Azzi who speaks. “And, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d better ask me to be your girlfriend tomorrow.”

(Paige does, in fact, ask Azzi to be her girlfriend ‘again’, as she puts it. Azzi, of course, says yes.)

(Oh, also, Caroline does receive a thank you letter and a bouquet of flowers in the mail a few days later. Confused, she opens the letter, to find it reads, “Thx for helping azzi pick that fit for our date. you’re a g mama carol. p.s. the sex was ridiculously good.” Caroline sends a photo of it to Azzi, wondering why she needed to know about the sex. Azzi replies with a shrugging emoji and a, “She’s not lying though”.)

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi fics #uconn wbb #wcbb #wbb #paige bueckers smut #azzi fudd smut #pazzi smut #lilah’s works #that’s so true pt 2

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windchesterluver · 2 days ago

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Two is better than one

Summary: Sam and Dean discover they’ve both fallen for their childhood best friend—and when you care, you share.

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: inspired by @dulcescorderitas

(This took 3 hours)

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, threesome, no wincest cuz gross, slight praise kink,

Things had changed between the three of you—you could feel it. It had been a year since you last hunted together, and, God, how you missed them. The three amigos, the three musketeers—you were inseparable, stuck together like glue. But then life happened, and you had to pull away. A week ago, you ran into them again while working a case, and afterward, none of you had the guts to say goodbye again. Somehow, everything fell back into place, as if you’d never been apart.

You tried to pretend you couldn’t feel the tension between the three of you. Tried to convince yourself Dean’s lingering gaze was just his way and that Sam’s hugs had always lasted a little too long. You lied to yourself, that you didn’t enjoy the warmth of Sam’s body pressed against yours or that your cheeks didn’t burn when Dean’s eyes trailed your body. But all the pretending and lying crumbled the moment you overheard them arguing.

It was late when you set out to grab some food, but as you approached the motel door, the sound of the brothers yelling stopped you in your tracks. Their words were muffled, but your name rang clear as day. After a few seconds of listening in and your heart pounding you finally mustered the courage to push the door open. The room fell silent the moment you stepped inside, and the tension lingered throughout dinner until it was broken by the sound of your voice.

“I have a case in my hometown, i leave tomorrow” you stated quietly. Your eyes fixed on your plate, feeling the brothers gaze over you. “we’ll come with you” Sam replied calmly. You swallowed hard “It's personal”. Both brothers furrowed their brows, exchanging a confused glance. “Is someone threatening you?” Dean’s tone was sharp, almost accusing. “What? No!” You snapped back startled. “Then what is it?” Sams's tone was gentle and his turned-up brows paired with his puppy eyes made it hard to lie. The more your gaze shifted between the two of them the more you felt yourself cracking. You had barely survived the year without them—how could you possibly survive a lifetime?

“Y/N,” Dean’s sharp voice snapped you back to reality. You bit down on your lip, pushing yourself away from the table. The boys immediately followed your lead, all of you now standing in tense silence. “I can't be the reason you two fall apart” you explained. Their expressions shifted to shock“What?” Dean scoffed. You inhaled sharply, steadying yourself “i heard you t fighting…it was about me wasn’t it?” You watched the boys turn to each other. Dean raised a brow and Sam nodded his head, like they were communicating telepathically.

“I think you’d better sit down for this,” Sam said softly moving toward you. Taking your wrist gently, he guided you to the edge of the motel bed. The mattress let out a faint squeak as Dean sat beside you, his thigh pressed firmly against yours. Sam studied your confused haze, his gaze steady and calm, before clasping his hand over yours. “We weren’t fighting,” he began. “We were talking about how we want you…” He hesitated, his words hanging in the air at the feeling of your hand tightening around his, your eyes fixed with anticipation. “And we’re hoping you wanted us”

Your gaze broke from Sam's when you felt Dean's cold hand rest on your lower back. Your eyes met his, his calm and reassuring expression grounding you. "Only if you want to," he said firmly, slowly inching closer before connecting his lips to yours. When your lips moved against him, he deepened the kiss, his restraint melting away. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, turning you fully toward him, and positioning himself between your legs. Sam softly pulled you to lean against his chest, his hand making their way to unbutton your shirt “Are you ok with this?” he whispered. Dean pulled away to let you respond, you nodded your head “Please” you begged breathlessly.

Dean wasted no time stripping himself of his clothes, before helping you out of your pants while Sam threw your shirt to the ground. “Ready?” Dean asked pumping himself, your eyes already showing how desperate you were with Sam sucking at your neck. You scratched at Sam's clothed thighs feeling Dean push into you. Dean leaned into the other side of your neck, continuing to thrust inside you. Your hot breath and moans against his ear made him let out a deep groan as he quickened his pace.

You were so intoxicated by Dean's movements, that you missed the feeling of Sam's hands sliding between you and Dean's chest, cupping your breast before giving a gentle squeeze releasing a small moan from your wet lips. “You sound so beautiful” he muttered. Dean could feel you arch against him and with a few more deep thrusts, watched you release around him before following. Your Head lay back on the younger brother’s shoulder, weakly looking up at him “Sam” you panted. He quickly passed you off to Dean who distracted you with light kisses around your jaw and collarbone. Your head tilted to the side and eyes locked on Sam undressing himself. you could feel yourself pooling again. Sam pulled you from Dean's arms as he climbed back on the bed, allowing you to hook your arms around his broad shoulders. “I'll be gentle” he spoke against your lips. You shuddered at the feeling of being reentered, your hands reaching up to fist his hair.

Sam’s thrusts were deep and slow compared to Dean's quick and harsh ones, slowly building you up. You didn't think the feeling could get better until a familiar hand made its way between your legs and gentle fingers circled your clit, making you gasp. You turned to see Dean over your shoulder “Hi sweetheart” he smirked pressing his lips to yours. It only lasted a moment when Sam's hand grabbed your face turning you to him “My turn” he groaned before smacking his lips against yours. You could feel yourself reaching your high again, uncontrollably rolling your hips into him. His grip on your hips tightened while he cam into you, your fluids mixing.

“Good girl” he cooed, bringing you down from your high, and softly laying you on the mattress. Your eyelids flickered to the brothers who were on either side of you. “You did so well, sweetheart” Dean praised, brushing sweaty strands of hair off your forehead. “Get some rest, we’ll take care of you,” Sam spoke gently, watching your eyes flicker close. The feeling of gentle lips grazing your skin as you dozed off.

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sinofwriting · 17 hours ago

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Faking It - Max Verstappen

Words: 850 Summary: Max finds out his girlfriend faked an orgasm. Note(s): NSFW, Talks of Sex, Mention of Semi-Public Sex. Part of a kind series where drivers find out reader faked an orgasm.

Max pauses just before the entryway to the living room. “Have you ever y’know?” His brows furrow at the vague question from his girlfriend’s best friend.

“Have I ever what?”

“Faked it. Have you ever faked an orgasm?”

She scoffs, “Before Max, yes.”

His cheeks turn a bit pink at the conversation he was overhearing, but he also stands a bit taller.

He knew that their sex life was good, that she was getting orgasms, they had of course talked about it, but it was different hearing her talk to someone else about it with no idea he was there.

His brows furrowed in confusion when she speaks again, “well, I don’t really know if it counts as faking it.”

“What?”

“I mean, there’s been a few times when we’ve had sex where I didn’t orgasm.”

His mind starts screaming at him, because what? He always made sure she came, usually before he did.

“Not because it wasn’t good or because I didn’t want to. I just couldn’t.” He can practically see the shrug she gives. “The sex was still good though.”

“Y/N!” Her friend screeches and it breaks up a little through the phone.

The words replay in his head as he goes back to their bedroom, lying down on the bed. He tries to think of when she would have faked it but nothing comes to mind. He’s so wrapped up in his head he doesn’t hear her call his name or get onto the bed until she’s laying down on top of him, his arms instinctively wrapping themselves around her.

“What you thinking about?” She asks, pressing kisses to his jaw.

It normally relaxes the feeling of her lips pressed against his skin but not quite where he wants them, a lovely prelude to before she kisses him, but he can’t get past what he heard and he’s never been practically shy.

“When did you fake it? Having an orgasm with me?”

Her fingers pause where they had begun to lift his shirt to slide under. “Max, it’s not a big deal.”

His frown deepens and he’s pushing her upwards so they can look at each other. “Yes, it is. I always thought that I made you orgasm, usually first. And now I’ve found that isn’t true.”

She shakes her head. “You do! I promise you do.”

He doesn’t say anything and she sighs.

“It’s only happened twice.”

He doesn’t know if he’s relieved that it only happened twice or pissed that he failed twice. It should have never happened but twice was far too much.

“The first time was after the FIA gala last year.”

His eyebrows furrow, “But you talk about that night a lot.”

“It was a good night. I felt good, amazing. I loved everything we did, I just wasn’t able to orgasm. I didn’t feel unsatisfied or anything. Especially not with my wake-up call.”

He smirks at the reminder of the next morning. He had woken up just as the sun was rising and had ducked under the covers and ate her out until she was begging for him to stop. His jaw and tongue had ached for hours after, but it was worth it for the taste of her stayed just as long.

“The second time was in China. I just couldn’t stop thinking about what if someone walked in.”

“So, I didn’t fuck you good enough.”

She slaps his chest lightly, sending him a disbelieving look. “I was limping a little after. And you're lucky I was wearing those heels and everyone believed me when I said I twisted my ankle.”

“I’m sorry.” Max apologizes again, picking up her hand and kissing it. He still felt a little bad that their first foray into semi-public sex had been so rough. “Why didn’t you tell me though? That I didn’t make you come?”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal to me.” She tells him. “I love having sex with you, it always feels good regardless of me orgasming or not. And in those two instances I was just happy to be that close to you.”

He stares at her, looking deep into her eyes. He still feels like he’s failed but the way she’s looking at him, all gentle wide eyes filled with truth. “I’ll let it go.”

She snorts and he covers her mouth with his hand.

“But only if you tell me next time. Just so I can immediately make it up to you.” He says, removing his hand as he says the last word.

“Okay, I’ll tell you next time.”

“Thank you.” He murmurs, pressing their lips together.

She hums into the kiss, her one hand slipping out of his and returning to the hem of shirt, drawing it up so she can slip her hands underneath and his stomach flexes at the feeling of her fingertips and he’s rolling them over. Easily putting himself in between her legs.

“Feel like making a mess for me?”

She lets out a happy little sigh, teeth lightly sinking into her bottom lip as she nods. “Please?”

“Of course.”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #sins fics #faking it

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sunflowerwinds · 1 day ago

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take care | s.a

summary: you get absolutely hammered at a party with your bestfriend, caitlyn, and you call your girlfriend to the rescue when your exhaustion hits you out of nowhere. sevika takes care of your intoxicated state and the groggy morning after.

pairing: fem!reader x sevika arcane

contains: slight modern!au (they use cell phones), established relationship, alcohol consumption, cait & mel being BAD BITCHES, fluff, mentions of suggestive content, sevika being so attentive and patient <3

word count: 2.9K

a/n: absolutely self-indulgent, i wrote this the day after recovering from a hangover LMAO <3 i hope you all enjoy!!

You truthfully couldn’t remember the last time you had gotten as drunk as you were at this very moment. A friend of your best friend's had invited you two out to this warehouse party-club situation. You were hesitant at first, not knowing if you had that in you but the second you arrived at the apartment of the friend, who you found out was named Mel, and they were pregaming with Fireball and Malibu shots, you knew you were incredibly fucked.

You had a great time, granted.

Your best friend, Caitlyn, Mel, and you made new friends amid the crowd. The girls were so lovely, throwing compliments on hair, makeup, and outfits back and forth.

Before you knew it you had made your way onto the stage with the DJ, telling him to play a certain selection of songs. He even lets you queue them up on his laptop. You huff as you realize that you want to go home but Mel was talking to some tall man who was quite handsome off stage in a corner and Caitlyn was with you on stage but she was busy talking to a red-haired butch that was covered in tattoos on the other side of the large stage.

You reach lazily into your back pocket, pulling out your phone to call your girlfriend. You blink rapidly to try and focus your eyes on your screen, leaning a bit to one side as if that would help your slightly blurry vision due to both your intoxication and the number of strobe lights.

You successfully press the call button and hold the speaker up to your ear as you take slow steps over to Caitlyn, tapping her bare shoulder as she is wearing a rosewood red lace tank and a short black skirt. You mutter an apology to someone you bumped into as you tap on her shoulder again.

She turns her head around to see you holding up your phone to your ear, furrowing her brows.

“Wait, darling, who are you calling?” Caitlyn shouts over the music, one hand on the girl’s shoulder that she was talking to and the other brushing her long blue hair over her ear.

“Sevik– Hi, baby!” You beam as the line clicks, cutting yourself off before nodding to Caitlyn and mouthing, ‘Sevika’.

You think you hear a little bit of shuffling on the other line before you shake your head with a frown, looking up at your best friend. The line clicked off so you assumed you needed to go somewhere quiet to be able to talk to the woman you loved.

“Cait, wait a minute. I’m gonna,” you take a deep breath to stabilize yourself, holding a hand out to make sure you don’t face plant onto the ground. “‘M gonna go just a little bit outside so that Sev can pick us up. I’ll be righ’ back, okay?”

“No, no, you’re not going alone. Wait right here. Do not move.”

The taller woman turns to the butch she was talking to, sending her a quick flirty smile before leaning down to say something in her ear. You wait patiently for her, looking down at your screen again to see a few message notifications from Sevika.

from sevi ❤︎ | Babe, is everything okay?

from sevi ❤︎ | You did mean to call me, right?

from sevi ❤︎ | Please text me, my love. I’m getting a bit worried.

Your heart aches at the bright reminders that you have a girlfriend: who cares about your well-being. You look up to see Caitlyn placing a kiss to the woman's cheek before handing her back her phone. You swore even being as drunk as you were, you could tell how flustered that woman was. You understood though.

Caitlyn is fucking stunning.

“We grab Mel and we head outside, okay? I see her right there.” Caitlyn’s long arm hooks on yours, a big of a smug grin on her face.

“She was hot! You gave her your number right?” You squeal as you carefully step down with Caitlyn to the ground level once again.

A wave of nausea washed over you as you attempted to balance yourself out. You believe Caitlyn confirmed the fact that she had gotten the butch’s number but the next thing you remember is being face-to-face with Mel and the man she had been talking to.

She tells you his name, leaning in to shout it in your ear.

“Jay? Hi Jay! You are very handsome,” you shout in his face, a stupid smile on your face.

The man’s face twists in amusement at your state and looks at Mel with a softer expression. “H-Hi! It’s Jayce but thank you.”

Your mouth forms into an ‘o’ at how you misheard the name, stuttering out apologies. He waves it off, telling you it's okay.

“I think someone’s calling you,” the man, Jayce, points to your phone that was buzzing in your hand.

You look down at it, muttering a curse as it was Sevika calling you once again and you are still inside the loud crowded warehouse.

“Meli, we’ve got to go outside for a moment. Sevika’s calling her,” Caitlyn placed a hand on Mel’s forearm.

Mel looked between you and Jayce, excusing herself to the man and reassuring him that she’d be right back. He told her it was fine and to not worry about it. You couldn’t hold back your awe and wave ‘bye’ at Jayce as Caitlyn and Mel now had one arm hooked on either one of yours as the three of you made your way outside.

“I’ll call her back,” Caitlyn reaches for your phone that was gripped tightly in your hand.

You easily allow her to take it from you, resting your head on Mel’s shoulder as the fresh air hits you the second you step outside. You hum a random tune as Mel rests her head on your head too, rubbing her free palm on your hand.

Caitlyn took a step away from you two to dial Sevika on your phone again to let her know that you were fine and just wanted to go home. Within minutes after ringing her back, Sevika was in her beaten town truck just across the street. You gasped at the sight of it, even in your drunken state, you were able to recognize the familiar vehicle.

Sevika walks over to you three, greeting Mel and Caitlyn first before allowing you to wrap your arms around her torso to lean into her touch. You held yourself up weakly, stumbling over the curb.

“Sevika,” you sigh with a slight groan.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. We’re gonna go home,” the taller of you two leaned down to press a kiss to your damp temple from your sweat.

“We’ll see you on Monday. I’ll call you tomorrow to make sure you’re okay.” Caitlyn assures you with a sweet grin, leaning back into Mel now that you are clinging to your girlfriend.

“Wait, who’s taking you home? I don’ want you guys to be here alone,” you look up at Sevika and point your finger over her shoulder to her truck. “Let’s take ‘em home, baby.”

Mel and Caitlyn are quick to assure you and your girlfriend that the man that they were previously talking to would take them home as he was the DD for his best friend that he was with that night. You stare unable to remember for a moment who they were talking about.

“Ohhh, Jaycey boy! He seems really nice, Meli. I’m so happy for you,” you nod in approval with a thumbs up as you lean into Sevika’s chest.

“She has our locations, Sevika,” Caitlyn tells your girlfriend, hinting to her to check it every once in a while to make sure the man wouldn’t take them anywhere they weren’t supposed to.

Sevika nods in understanding, sternly telling the two to please be safe. Mel showed a photo of Jayce to Sevika to make sure she knew who this man was. Your mind only had bits and pieces of that night that you were able to remember.

For instance, after Sevika had picked you up, you couldn’t remember the drive home whatsoever. What you do remember is begging Sevika to get some Nacho Fries and a frozen Baja Blast.

You reached over her lap from the passenger's seat to tell the worker your order, Sevika placing a hand on your lower stomach to keep you steady so you wouldn’t fall forward and hit your face on the car door.

“Wait, Sevi, do you wan’ anything?” You turn your back into the car to look at your girlfriend.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you, baby.” she leans forward to kiss your side before patting your hip to motion for you to sit back down.

“Mm okay,” you hum before telling the worker that should be everything and snuggle back down into your seat.

After paying for the food and handing it to you in the passenger's seat, Sevika told you that you were almost home and you could eat it then. You didn’t listen and ate all of the fries in her car and hounded down the Baja Blast with ease.

Thankfully, your shared apartment was only a few minutes away from Taco Bell.

Sevika had opened your passenger's side door when you arrived, holding back an amused at the giddy expression on your face. She held her arm out for you to grasp onto as you stepped down onto the concrete of the road. You hum to yourself as you look up at Sevika, raising your free hand to pat her broad shoulder.

“Baby, would it be so bad if we…?” You trail off as you giggle to yourself at the thought.

“If we what?” Sevika hums back as her arm slithers around your waist to hold you up as the two of you make your way to your apartment.

Sevika internally cursed as she knew you wouldn’t want to go up all of the stairs. You two lived on the fourth floor.

“Well, I don’t know. What we woul’ usually be doing on a Friday– Oh!”

You yelp as Sevika wraps her arms around your waist to hoist you up and over her shoulder, cutting off your words. Your hands rest on her lower back, grinning mischievously to yourself at the sight of her skin.

“You don’t feel like throwing up?” Sevika questions as she holds your thighs down with one of her forearms.

“Nuh-uh. ‘M lovin’ this view though,” you chuckle to yourself as you stare at her ass, blinking a bit to focus your vision.

Sevika shakes her head knowingly, smiling at your giggles the whole way up the stairs. She even felt your hands caressing her strip of skin that was exposed from her slightly cut-off t-shirt.

“You’re having fun down there?” She questions as she approaches your front door, reaching into her front pocket to pull out her keys.

You merely smack her ass to confirm her suspicions to which she lightly smacks your own with a: “Keep your hands to yourself.”

You twiddle with a loose string coming from the shirt as she carries you into your cool apartment, tossing her keys into the bowl near the front door. She kicks the door shut with her foot with a soft grunt, scaring you for a moment at the sudden movement.

“Baby, lock the door for me, please?” She asked you, scooting backward a few steps.

You lift your head, steadying yourself with one weak hand on her lower back as you reach for the three knobs. You twist each of them to the right with a soft click. Sevika kisses the side of your hip that is next to her face and thanks you before making her way down the hall to your shared bedroom.

“Sevi, I think I’m gonna throw up a little,” you warn her, hiccuping a bit.

Sevika’s eyes widen at your words as she carefully sets you down on your feet, holding your hips to lead you to the bathroom. You cover your mouth as you stumble to kneel next to the toilet, hunching over as you wait for the vomit to hit the water. Sevika quickly took her place next to you as she pushed back your falling strands of hair, gathering it in a ponytail in her fist.

“Let it out if you need to. It’s okay if you can’t,” she rubs your back with the other hand, wincing at your gagging.

You groan as you shake your head, eyes watering at the fact that it wasn’t coming up.

“It’s not– I can’t. I though’ I could, Sevi,” you frown up at her as you slump against the wall in front of the seat.

Sevika shushes you as she releases your hair and takes your hands into her larger ones, urging you to stand up.

“It’s okay. Let’s just get you to bed,” she instructs you gently.

You nod slowly, sniffling as you let her lead you back into the bedroom. You remember her carefully removing your ‘party clothes’ and putting one of her sleeping tees on you. She knew how much you adored them so at least you would have that to wake up to. She grabbed some of your micellar water and a rag to remove what was left of your makeup, holding your jaw in your hand as you kept trying to lay down once the comfier clothing was on.

After doing the usual night routine, you plopped down onto the mattress with a satisfied sigh as she snuggled your cheek into the pillowcase.

“Night, baby,” you hum as you smack your lips.

“Good night, my love,” she teases as she places a kiss on your cheek before rounding the bed to lie down on her side.

You pretty much passed out as soon as Sevika had lifted the covers over you two, mouth ajar and limbs awry.

You were never drinking again.

You thought as you carefully sat upright in your bed, squinting your eyes hard as the light from the morning sun was blinding you through your thin curtains. The headache and nausea hit you all at once as you covered your mouth, afraid of the bile that might escape. You wait a few seconds to make sure you aren’t actually going to throw up. Your eyes follow to your bedside table as you reach over to grab your phone, your movements slow as ever.

As you squint your eyes to focus on the screen, you see a few messages from Caitlyn and Mel; telling you they made it home and they were in fact not kidnapped. You then shift your eyes to the numbers at the top.

It was 9 o’clock in the morning; way too fucking early for the night you had.

You grunt as you gradually lay back down, wanting to stay still for the next three hours to not trigger the pounding headache to worsen. You peer over your bedroom door to see that it was left halfway open, the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. Not to your surprise, it was Sevika with a small tray of food for you. You could hear her whisper a curse as she tried her hardest to not spill the coffee on it.

“Sevika?” You call out to her, your groggy and strained voice making your head hurt.

“You’re awake. Good morning,” Sevika tells you with a knowing and sympathetic smile.

You groan in response to her words, wanting to grab the pillow you were laying your head on and shield your face.

“I want to sleep,” you say right off the bat, frowning at her as you try to recollect the events of the previous night.

“I know, my love but can you eat this for me? You’ll feel better once you have food in you.”

Your girlfriend slowly sits herself down on the empty space next to you; her side of the bed. You knew she was right but you felt like you had to use so much energy just to sit upright, let alone eat.

And chew.

And drink.

It all sounded so… bothersome. But then you feel Sevika leaning over to press a few kisses onto your cheek and jaw, a hand rubbing up and down your arm that was out from under the comforter. You shut your eyes as you sigh at the feeling, wishing the kisses could push away your hangover.

“15 minutes,” she places one kiss on your jaw, “and then,” another to your nose, “you can sleep all day.”

You pretend as if you weren’t already set on eating as she continues to kiss as gently as possible every square inch of your face. Your smile grows as you force out a grumbled ‘fine’ as you steadily sit upright so that your back is resting on the headboard.

“You’re too good to me, Sev,” you tell her as you rub your tired eyes, yawning as she places the tray in your lap.

Sevika hums in agreement, playfully tapping underneath your chin with a hooked finger.

“Just eat. Then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”

“No,” you reach for her hand, intertwining your fingers. “Never leave me alone.”

Sevika can’t help the smitten flush that covers her face as she takes your intertwined hands to kiss the back of yours.

“Never.”

You weakly smile at that before digging into your eggs, toast, fruit, and Tylenol with a long and collected sigh, enjoying the flavors of it all. You look down at your sleeping attire, feeling warm at the fact that it was Sevika’s.

Whether it was drunk, sober, or mind-numbingly hungover, she always took care of you.

TAGLIST: @eilishxo @nevergonna-give-u-up @archangeldyke-all @violynsb @lesbianpuppygirl @cutestdarkskin @moodient @starytree @capedyke @sameshoeally @lovinglynny @rurides @iluvwomensm

#wlw #sapphic #sevika fluff #sevika x you #sevika x reader #arcane sevika #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x female reader #arcane league of lesbians #arcane show #arcane league of legends

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 3 days ago

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WHISPERS OF TWO FREAKS KISSING

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader Summary: with no memory of the party, Monday rolls around and it seems like a lot of people do. Warnings: rumours? talks about kissing, underage drinking, getting high. brief mention of being a pornstar (imagination)

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You groggily open your eyes, sunlight filtering through your curtains, making your head feel like it’s been hit with a hammer. You blink a few times, trying to adjust, but the familiar surroundings of your room only make the confusion worse.

You stretch, wincing at the headache that flares up. A groan slips from your lips, your hand instinctively reaching for your bedside table for your water bottle. It’s then that you notice how dry your mouth is, the taste lingering, unpleasant and sharp.

You tug the blankets off your legs, slowly sitting up. The floor feels like it’s shifting under your feet, and you grip the edge of your bed to steady yourself. What happened last night?

There’s a lingering fog in your mind, moments, flashes, some you recognize, others are completely foreign. You know you were at Mike Lewenski’s party last night, but beyond that, things blur.

You rub your eyes, feeling a sense of dread, but you can’t put your finger on why. Did something happen?

You shake your head, the ache only intensifying. It’s probably nothing. Just a little too much to drink, you tell yourself. Still, your stomach churns as you try to piece together the night. But for now, the headache’s enough to keep you from thinking much more.

You just wish you could remember.

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Monday rolled quickly and probably for the better, the hangover you had was a killer and you're glad that it's gone so you can actually focus.

a few things came back to you here and there, but it was mostly you just dancing and wondering around.

you hated not being able to remember what happened, because every time you get drunk, you always get the feeling you did something to embarrass yourself

and the stares people gave you as you walked into the school made you wonder if you really had.

everyone had turned to look at you with judging eyes. making the hairs on your arm stand up in nervousness.

The weight of their stares presses on you, a flush creeping up your neck as whispers follow in your walk. Your stomach twists, and you can’t shake the feeling that everyone knows something you doesn't, their judgment lingering in the air like a cloud you can't escape.

but they couldn't be looking at you. you realise that when you turned around and watch as the couple everyone makes fun of behind you, hickeys all over their necks as they walked hand in hand together.

you visibly relaxed, knowing their judgy eyes were aimed at them and not you. their whispers were aimed at them, who you now remember were kicked out of the party due to almost having sex on the Livingroom couch, in front of everyone.

now that was relieving.

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You walked to the lunch table where all of your friends sat, your tray full of gross but tolerable food in your hands as you approached your table.

You felt the atmosphere shift as you passed a few tables. The usual noise of the cafeteria felt muffled, like someone turned the volume down. Your friends were sitting there, their heads turning just slightly when you arrived, their expressions too guarded to be comfortable. It wasn’t like how it used to be. You tried to ignore the knot in your stomach and took your seat, setting your tray down with a little more force than necessary, smiling despite the weird feeling swarming in the pit of your stomach.

But as you sat, you felt the weight of their stares. They didn’t greet you like they usually did. The silence stretched between you, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d missed something, if you were being paranoid or imagining the tension in the air. You looked around, but everything seemed the same, except for the strange shift in your friends' demeanour.

"Hey," you began, trying to break the silence, your voice almost too loud. "What’s up? Why are you all so quiet?"

You awkwardly laughed as you picked at the pasta salad with your fork.

One of them, a girl you’d known for years, glanced at the others and then back at you. Her eyes darted away quickly, and she cleared her throat before responding, her words sharp and almost rehearsed.

"You can’t sit here," she said flatly, like it was an established rule, one you should already know by now.

You blinked, confused, looking at her, then the others. "What? What do you mean?" You glanced around as if maybe you missed something.

You were met with silence, and the smile on your face fell as you looked around the table.

"Did I do something wrong?" Your stomach churned a little, the unease sinking in deeper.

She looked away, and another friend spoke up. "You’re just... We can’t be seen with you anymore."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" you asked, the words slipping out too quickly. "What did I do?"

"Everybody’s calling you a freak... so... you need to go," the one on the end said quietly, like she was saying a secret.

Nobody in the group even liked her; she was always getting talked over and pushed away, which is why she earned a few eye rolls at her comment.

The first girl’s gaze shifted awkwardly, like she was unsure of how to continue. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, shaking her head. Finally, she sighed, resigned.

"You were making out with Eddie Munson at the party on Saturday," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but it still felt like it was echoing in your mind.

You froze, the air thick with confusion. You felt your heart race for a second, and you shook your head, your pulse quickening. Eddie Munson? The Eddie Munson? No way. That didn’t make sense. He didn’t even go to the party. Did he?

You racked your brain, trying to piece together the hazy fragments of the night, but there was nothing, nothing that connected you to him like that.

"That’s not true," you said, your voice firmer than you felt. "I wasn’t making out with him. I don’t even remember him being at the party." You tried to convince yourself, your words coming out too fast, too defensive, but they sounded hollow even to your own ears.

They just looked at you, blank, unfeeling. One of them even let out a short, bitter laugh, like it was obvious. "Everyone saw you," she said quietly, not meeting your eyes. "With him. Everybody's talking about it."

her hands crossed over her chest, and she looked at you like you were nothing, like a piece of filthy garbage.

you looked around the cafeteria to avoid your friends' harsh gazes and were only met with even more of them from all of your peers, staring at you and gossiping.

you shrunk in your seat, looking down and turning back in your seat, not daring to look back up at your friends as you stared at your food.

you were so confused

"That’s not... I-. I didn't. I mean, come on-" you stammered, the confusion growing with each passing second. Your stomach twisted into a tighter knot, the unease turning into something heavier, like you were sinking into the ground. You didn’t know what to say to them. You couldn’t even explain yourself because you didn’t understand what happened yourself.

"Doesn’t matter," the other friend muttered, pushing her tray aside and crossing her arms. "You’re not one of us anymore. You’re different, and we can’t hang out with you if you’re going to be a... freak."

Your chest tightened, and the room suddenly felt too small. You stared at the empty space between you and them, unsure of how to even respond. You wanted to scream that they were wrong, that they didn’t understand, but it felt like you were speaking a different language altogether. You never signed up for this, never imagined they’d turn on you like this.

They all avoided looking at you, each of them turning their attention back to their food or to whatever excuse they could find to keep from meeting your eyes. You didn’t know how long you sat there in silence, your body numb, your mind too full of questions to think straight. All you wanted was to sit with your friends, but now everything felt wrong. You never thought one stupid night at a party could change everything. But here you were, sitting across from people you once trusted, and everything was different.

"How could you think I’d do that?" you asked quietly, your voice shaky. The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth, like you were being forced to swallow something terrible. "I don’t even remember any of it."

But they didn’t respond. They just kept avoiding your gaze. You didn’t know what else to do, so you stood up, your legs shaky. You glanced back at the empty seats, the ones that used to feel like home. You didn’t know how it all got this twisted, but as you turned away, you felt the weight of it, how much had changed, how quickly everything turned upside down.

They wouldn’t even look at you as you walked away, the space between you and your friends feeling colder with each step.

you didn't know where to go, you looked around, your eyes still hung low as you searched

you had no other friends.

Then, your eyes drifted to Eddie’s usual spot. His table was empty. His friends were there, laughing, talking, completely unaffected by his absence. But Eddie? He wasn’t there.

he did it, didn't he? he wanted some kind of revenge, for what? you're not quite sure, but he must have told everybody.

which is why you stormed out of the cafeteria in search for him.

Frustration bubbled up inside you. Without thinking, your feet moved on their own, carrying you out of the cafeteria and outside, towards the bleachers. Your breath came faster now, your heart racing. you only had one location of where he'd be, because if he's not at his table, he's here, and you needed to see him, you needed to understand why he’d done this, why everything had suddenly turned upside down.

You wandered through the forest, your feet crunching over the dry leaves beneath you. The cool air did nothing to numb the knot in your stomach or the burning frustration in your chest. Your thoughts were a chaotic swirl of confusion, anger, and hurt, but one thing was clear- you needed answers. You needed to know why Eddie did this, why everything changed so suddenly.

The trees loomed above you, casting long shadows across the uneven path as you walked aimlessly. The further you got from school, the more your thoughts began to settle, but only enough to make room for the ache of betrayal to creep in. You bit your lip hard, determined not to let the tears fall. But every step you took felt heavier, as though the weight of the entire situation was pressing down on your chest.

Eventually, you came to a clearing, the sounds of the world fading as you spotted him. Eddie. He was sitting at the rundown table, the one you’d seen him at before when he did his deals. His fingers curled around a joint, the smoke curling lazily into the air. But what made your heart sink was the fact that he was alone.

His dark hair hung loosely around his face. He didn’t seem to notice you right away, too wrapped up in whatever was floating around in his mind. You stood there, just outside his sight, staring at him as the reality of the situation settled over you.

Your friends had turned their backs on you, your reputation trashed, and you couldn’t even remember what had happened that night. But Eddie? Eddie had known exactly what was happening. And now here he was, sitting in silence, as though everything was just fine.

You swallowed hard, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. Your heart ached in ways you didn’t even know were possible. Taking a deep breath, you finally stepped forward, a crunch of the dried leaves under your foot echoing throughout the clearing

Eddie’s head snapped up as he heard your footsteps, his expression shifting from a daze to surprise. His eyes were a little glazed over, the effects of the joint still lingering, but there was something in them that flickered when he saw you standing there, tense and uncertain.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice slow and a little rough, as if he wasn’t fully sure of what was happening. He took another drag from the joint, exhaling slowly as he looked you over, his gaze scanning your face for any sign of what was going on.

You didn’t say anything at first. You just stood there; the words tangled in your throat. The anger, the hurt, it all threatened to spill out, but you weren’t sure how to even begin. The confusion swirling around you was too much to process.

“What happened?” Eddie asked, his voice softer now, his eyebrows furrowing in genuine confusion. “Why are you... why are you looking at me like that?”

You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to keep your composure.

“You told everyone, Eddie. that- that we...at the...Party,” you said, your voice shaky, but trying to remain firm.

“You told everyone we made out at the party on Saturday, and now I’m just... I’m a freak like you.” The last part came out bitter, the resentment you hadn’t realized was building inside you finally spilling over.

Eddie blinked at you, his expression still clouded with confusion. He took another drag from the joint and paused, clearly trying to piece together what you were saying.

"Wait, what? I... I didn’t tell anyone anything.” His voice was slow, uncertain, like the words didn’t make sense to him.

You felt your chest tighten.

“What do you mean, you didn’t? Everyone’s talking about it, Eddie. They’re all looking at me like I’m... some kind of joke. They’re calling me a freak.” You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the weight of everything still made it feel like the air was thick, suffocating.

“How could you do that? How could you let everyone think that?” you stormed up to him, snatching the joint between his fingers as he goes for another hit and puts it out on the old wood he's leaning on

Eddie shook his head, his face filled with genuine confusion. He ran a hand through his hair, looking like he couldn’t process what you were saying, looking at the waste of a joint now smushed on the table

“I didn’t... I didn’t do anything like that. I don’t even remember... what happened at the party. I was drunk, and... I don’t even remember being there half the time.”

You stared at him, a cold feeling creeping into your chest. His words didn’t make any sense, but it was clear from his expression that he wasn’t lying.

“What do you mean you don’t remember, the story you're telling people makes it out that you remember a lot?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded slowly, his gaze softening as he stood up, the joint slipping from his fingers and falling to the ground.

“No. I don’t. But I swear, I didn’t tell anyone anything.” He took a step toward you, his voice more sincere now, the distance between you two suddenly feeling much smaller.

You shook your head, not trusting your voice enough to say anything more. The hurt was still there, but now it felt more complicated. Was it possible that Eddie wasn’t the one who caused all of this? But then, if he didn’t say anything, who did?

Eddie stepped closer, his hand hesitantly reaching out, like he wasn’t sure if you’d pull away. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Everything was a blur, your thoughts, your emotions, but his words, his apology, felt like something you hadn’t expected. You’d been so angry, so hurt, but now you just felt... confused.

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to think that maybe, just maybe, Eddie hadn’t been the one to cause this mess. But you didn’t have the answers, and the truth was, you were too lost to figure it out. So, instead of saying anything else, you simply took a step back, your heart still aching, but your mind too clouded to make sense of it all.

Eddie was silent, wondering why you've jumped straight onto his back.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence heavy and uncomfortable. But then, Eddie broke it, his voice quieter than before, almost too soft for you to catch at first.

“What’s the worst part of this?” he asked, his words hanging in the air. “Is it the thought of... kissing me? Is that what you’re upset about? Or is it that now you’re known as a freak...like me”

The question hung in the air, like a challenge, but it wasn’t harsh. It was just... sad. His eyes searched yours, trying to make sense of the mess, trying to understand what you were feeling.

you frowned, because what kind of question is that?

he shook his head, knowing what you're thinking

You stood still, the weight of his words hitting you harder than you expected. Eddie's gaze was intense, like he was desperately trying to figure out where things went wrong. There was a flicker of hurt in his eyes, hidden behind a mask of confusion and a hint of defensiveness.

He leaned against the table, his grip tightening around the joint as he looked at you, his voice strained but sharp.

"So, what is it then?" he asked, the words coming out more accusing than he meant. "Is it that the idea of kissing me is so repulsive to you? Or is it just that you're embarrassed to be associated with someone like me?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw clenching as he tried to hold back whatever feelings bubbled beneath the surface. He was trying to figure out what was going through your mind, but in that moment, it almost felt like he was accusing you of something. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, it was hard to tell.

"don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about, because why would you be acting like this?" he added, quieter now.

"You told me a while ago that you didn't think I was a freak, that you didn't want to be like them...but...your kind of sounding like them right now, so... why?" His voice cracked slightly at the end, and though he tried to mask it, you could see the hurt starting to creep into his features.

The frustration in his tone made you pause, unsure of how to respond. Was this about him being upset you didn't want to kiss him? Or was it something deeper, something more personal?

“What?” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stared at him, trying to process what he’d just said, the mixture of emotions on his face, hurt, confusion, and something you couldn’t quite name, only making it harder.

but Eddie was freaking out inside, how could he ask you that? that wasn't fair to you.

but he wants to know. would you say because you hated the thought of kissing him, but didn't care as much to what people think than that?

or you don't want to be a freak. would that mean you would be fine with the thought of kissing him

no- why does he always have to resort back to kissing you?

it's weird and creepy.

maybe he was a freak...but all he wanted to know was if you'd push him against the table and kiss him.

he wanted to know what your lips felt like on his.

Eddie what the fuck are you doing?! he thought, mentally slapping himself

Eddie’s jaw tightened, and he exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he looked away. "Forget it," he muttered, his tone low and guarded now, like he regretted saying anything at all. "Doesn’t matter."

But it did matter. You could feel it. His words, his tone, the way he wouldn’t meet your eyes, it all mattered.

you didn't know what to think, you don't want to kiss him. you just cant help but think about it, you know? that doesn't mean you want to.

it's like how you think you could probably be a Porn star, but you'd never actually do it. that would be crazy, just like kissing Eddie would be crazy, right?

so, you don't hate the thought of kissing him as much as being known as a freak, but you'd rather not be called that.

and you definitely would never kiss him.

that's what's the worst part of this situation, you'd never do that, but people thought you did.

the worst part of this situation is that you are being accused of something you didn't do

but...now that you think about it.

you don't remember what happened...neither does Eddie

and if people saw it...

maybe it did happen.

maybe you did kiss Eddie.

cause where else would they get that from if they weren't told about it

you looked down and rolled on your ankles, not knowing what to say.

Eddie cleared his throat.

"Not to assume, or anything but uh- y'know if you have no one to uh...sit with. you'll always have a seat at hellfire...though I'm not sure you'd want to..embrace..being a freak or anything." he spoke. a light bite in his words as he packed up his metal lunch box with his 'stuff'

he walked back up to you and sighed "sorry..by the way..trust me...I know what it's like"

You stood there, watching him, his face still filled with regret and uncertainty, but he didn’t say anything as he turned and walked away. The words you needed, the comfort you hoped for, it all seemed so far away now, lost somewhere between the haze of the party and the mess that followed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

ahhhh. sorry. I'M MAKING THESE SO QUICK I NEED TO SLOW DOWN BUT I CAN'T. but it's farrrr from done dww

taglist:

@exploding-bonbon @xlostitx @pupwrites @carolineesnell @foreveranexpatsposts @itsmadamehydra @thedoubleexposurephotography @g3n3zshack @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @emxxblog @nubedeoctubreval @bimboshaggy @sheneedsrocknroll92 @callmytherapistplease-blog @ifeelbadbutimhot @littlemissholy @sammybrrr @alastorssimp

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

#x fem!reader #imagines #fluff #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem #ami's new series!#eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 2 days ago

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hi sex witch! I (a teen) was talking with my friends (also teens) about sex, specifically hookups with people you aren’t necessarily romantically involved with. They said that as a teen that’s a bad idea, since hormones or whatever fuck with uour brain and cause an unhealthy obsession or smth we watched rocky horror immediately after and I forgot the details. Is that true? That sounds not true, teens have sex and oftentimes have sex with people they aren’t in relationships with, and I’ve literally never heard anything like that before they said it. Anyway, as a horny teen who wants to engage in some no-romance hookups I’d like to know if this would idk turn my brain to mush or whatever

hi there, friend,

listen: there is no existing age where sexual and romantic entanglements don't put people at risk of getting their feelings hurt if things don't go the way they hoped. that's not something you grow out of when you're done being a teenager; it comes free with being a person. a hot tip that nobody wants to talk about is that this also isn't exclusive to sexual and romantic relationships; caring about your friends or your family or your neighbors or your pets or anything at all comes with the potential to get burned because giving a shit is inherently vulnerable. and yet, we do it anyway! isn't that beautiful?

teenagers have a reputation for having very high drama relationships because most teenagers are experiencing a lot of firsts - first crush, first date, first relationship, first kiss, first partnered sex, first heartbreak, etc - and firsts are exciting and scary and engender a lot of big feelings. your that's quite understandable; everything is more stressful when you haven't done it before. as I'm shuffling towards 30, I find that the times I feel youngest are when I'm most uncertain and out of my element, because such a big part of being young is having a very limited frame of reference and no idea how to cope with a great deal of things.

(conversely, getting older mostly involves mellowing out because you know how to handle way more situations and solve way more problems than you did when you were younger.)

a lot of moralizing panic around teenagers' sexuality tries to paint teenagers being sexual as A Bad Thing Always, No Exceptions, and try to push the idea that teenagers just shouldn't be permitted any form of sexual exploration. I think that's bullshit, partly because it's impossible to actually enforce and mainly because denying sexual expression is deeply cruel, and also because the teen years are a really important window for practicing for adulthood. including intimacy! great time to practice intimacy, and I sorely wish every teenager had the space and security to comfortably explore with support from their guardians.

when I caution young people about sex, it's just to say that, yes, sex can sometimes cause new problems and new feelings that you don't know how to deal with. fear or anxiety or insecurity can make people say and do things that hurt them and others all the time, especially in intimate relationships, so be careful and do your research to cut down on the risks you can control (for instance: following safer sex practices, keeping your body clean and healthy, talking to partners about boundaries and emotional well-being). not every sexual or romantic partner has to be forever, but partnering with people you like, trust, and know how to talk to will make it easier and less scary to figure out what to do together if/when unexpected problems do arise.

being a thoughtful and communicative partner is GREAT skill to start practicing as early as possible, trust me - I get plenty of very grown adults in my inbox who are still figuring out how to do it.

in conclusion: there's nothing inherently dangerous about sex with someone who's not a romantic partner, just make sure you're picking people wisely and looking out for everyone's safety.

#sex edventures 2025

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kaivenom · 15 hours ago

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Hey same person who asked for OP DILF x MILF reader

How about them reacting to MILF reader having a kid? (Even funnier if it was like luffy or zoro lol)

OP DILFS dating a MILF who has a kid

Characters: Mihawk, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Smoker,Shanks.

A/N: Two things. First one: i love this, i really had a good time writing it, you have great ideas my dear anon. Second one: exams are finally oveeeer, so i would be trying to update more than usual to get all the requests out of the hoven for everyone.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

After taking care of Zoro and Perona, he thinks that he is ready for everything.

One day you were both on the kitchen and he like ussual is reading paperwork.

"It looks like the new generation it's going strong, this kid seems a good swordsman." he shows you the picture.

"Drac, i think it's time for us to talk." he almsot felt fear for a moment, "that kid it's mine, not like you and Zoro, literally that is my son." his mind exploded, you never saw him that concerned.

"And when will you have said this to me?"

"I am telling you now... you know how difficult it's to date at our age, especcially being a woman who already has a kid?" he nodded and pushed you closer, "i planned on telling you soon, i just, didn't know how, i was expecting something like this to happen to have the oportunity to tell you.

"You are lucky i already have practice with that green haired boy... call him, we can set a dinner and i can meet him formally, maybe even bond?" you coudln't help but smile and kiss him.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He already has experience with children since he literally adopted a lot of them.

One day someone robbed on the royal treasure chamber of Dressrosa and he was furious, he was looking for you to help him relax.

"My dove, i need some of your assistance on my d..."

"And when i tell you i date someone your best idea it's to rob him? you are lucky i found you and your stupid friends before he did? and.... " you finally became aware of his presence, but his eyes were already glued to the teenager.

You grabbed your child by the collar of the shirt and went to the door, your previous angry look bacame softer seen how Doflamingo's eyebrows were frowning.

"This is my son... i called him to Dressrosa so you could finally meet him but he decided to 'prove you'... i dont know what was on his mind. I have the treasure located and coming back to the chamber."

"You have a child." Doflamingo looked at the verge of an aneurysm, gritting his teeth.

"I do, please, don't punish him... i thake the responsability." his lips curled in a strange smile, like he was trying to fake it.

"I am honored to meet your son, it's impressive to know how skilled he is, maybe he can join court..." clearly Doffy was having a hard time trying not to kill you son.

Sr. Crocodile

Experience 0, oblivious 100%

He was on his office, doing work and you appeared with your son.

"Croc..." he turned the chair and looked at you both, "dear, i told you i don't need more agents... i don't know how you contacted someone with such a high bounty but i don't need it." and he turned the chair again.

"This is my son..." Crocodile was thankfull for being backwards to you cause he choked on the cigar.

"Your what?"

"SIr Crocodile, i am (Y/N)'s son, i was hoping to meet you and bond a little, i wasn't expecting a job... but if you give it to me i am not going to complain."

"You already have a job as bounty hunter, don't try to take advantage of this." you poked your son's cheek under Crocodile's surprised look.

"I..." he cleared his throat, trying to sound serious and prepared, "pleasure to meet you child, i would have appreaciate it a warning."

"I warned you, i left a note on the fridge that said 'special meeting today, i have a surprise'" your son started to laugh.

"That sounded like a booty call, jajaja, maybe he was expecting you to come here in lingerie." you punched your son on the head to make him shut up.

"I can make a reserve on the restaurant we both like and i can know you better." he tried to sound profesional but your son was right, he tought you would give him a sexy surprise, not this.

Smoker

He was really tired of dealing with teenage pirates.

He spent the last week chasing and fighting agaisnt a new supernova, he was tired and just wants to get home to you.

"Hello love." he said while hanging his uniform, then he got to the living room and saw that same supernova playing cards with you, "i don't know what you are doing here bastard but you are not going to hurt my..."

"Relax old men, i was just paying a visit to my mother." Smoker got his mind reset.

"Smoker sweetie, this is my son."

"How couldn it be your son? you are a marine."

"Same happens with Garp, but he is a grandfather.... i think maybe this is a nice time for you two to meet." you were really nervous but tried to sound chill and smooth.

"Oh mother, we already know each other, thi sis the man that has been chasing me all week." the moment got worse every second and you wanted to hide, but you felt Smoker sat next to you and put his arm on your should, "noooo, cut the romantic things, i am going to throw up."

"Don't talk to us like that, yesterday i was furious that you were so childish but right now, i wont tolerate you talking to your mother or me with such a disrespectful tone." you had to hide a laugh, he clearly was getting his frustations out but at the same time trying to be nice. "so tell me, how can a son of a marine officer become a pirate?"

"Well..." and you knew that this would be a long night.

Akagami Shanks

Since Luffy and Uta, he was out of the parenting thing, for now.

You were sleeping and suddently canons started to burst on the ship, you got dressed and prepared to a new day at board.

"I am xxxxx, and i will defeat you, Red Head SHanks."

"On your dreams, child." canons were still bursting when you got on the ship and saw the attacker of the ship.

"Mom?" "Son?" you both said at the same time, Shanks mouth touched the ground.

"Come here you little prick, how could you blow the ship of your mother's fiancee."

"You are engaged? i didn't got the letter nor invitation, you don't love me or what? i know we don't live together anymore but..."

"I sent it yesterday, it should get to you in a couple of hours but... we took the covers of various newspapers, how could you not saw it?"

"You know i don't read that bullshit..." you both were yelling at each other from the ships, until Shanks decided to finally talk.

"And when i was going to know this?"

"Today!" he coudln't even talk, his mind was going to fast, another problematic child.

"Boy, stop blasting canons and get on the ship... i love your mother and i want to marry her, i can kill you."

"You are not going to kill me, i am going to defeat you."

"You can try, after the wedding and only if i am looking." you yelled at him and went to Shanks, "leave him, he is excited in reality to meet you."

"I must recompose myself, i must make him see i am a good stepfather."

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esotericbluntbaby · 2 days ago

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your hamzah angst was sooo good 😭 i really love this specific concept of angst where one of them distances from the other 🥹🥹

maybe you could do a prompt where y/n is scared to date hamzah?? maybe even rejecting him at first or something omg...

or one where they get into an argument which makes one of them distance themselves from the other (i love this concept so much sorry LOL)

passionfruit

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: heartbroken by the reader rejecting his advances out of fear, hamzah finds someone else; yet, he doesn't realize he looks for you in her until it was almost too late.

mentions: roommate!hamzah, angst, feelings of abandonment, she/her pronouns, happy ending, sfw!

i was listening to passionfruit by drake while writing this lol i was trying to go for a trope where they're both yearning but there's a blockage in the way of them getting to each other. "leaving, you're just doing that to get even" really inspired me

"this is azra, my girlfriend," hamzah admitted as you gazed at the alluring girl he brought into the apartment.

in moments, you felt like the library of alexandria has fallen once again. all the enriching history and knowledge you once knew, in addition to him knowing as well, was burnt to a crisp like a match to dry grass. you wondered if things could've been different; if you had finally grown the courage in the garden of your soul to tell him how you truly felt. yet, it was too late to dwell.

you couldn't blame him for getting a girlfriend, especially one as pretty as she is. technically, he wasn't yours to begin with; he was merely your roommate living in the room parallel to you. however, for a while, it felt like he was. the chemistry between the two of you morphed into a familiar tension of pairs; grapes are connected by their stems in the way that leaves are connected by the branches, the same way that you two were connected by the many traits you had in common.

there was always exchanged glances. the contact between your eyes and his created a candle flame that the wrinkles and creases from his smile would fan. you two acknowledged it, leading to social settings being disrupted by being stuck in a cycle of addiction: an addiction to the understanding you two had for each other with merely a look. some call it the look of love, but you and hamzah never even had the chance to speak about it.

eventually, the shared eye contact turned into physical contact. whether it was interlocking your arms or hands or legs together while cuddling on the couch, or simply sitting on the floor to him and resting your head on his thigh as he played games with martin, days went by with a different method of touch brightening both of your days.

one time, specifically, you began to cry because of the stress that consumed any amount of happiness you were able to feel. assuming that hamzah would just hang out with you, possibly giving you a long and needed hug, you decided to go to his room. opening the door to you on the verge of breaking down in front of him, he not only gave you a hug, but also pecked your forehead and cheeks with kisses while whispering reassurance and affirmations into your ear. things were different from that day; you were no longer just friends.

however, with the difference in relationship, anyone would think that you two would simply talk about what you were. you guys have done practically everything together besides see each other naked or kissed on the lips; why wouldn't you begin to watch a relationship flourish when you know there was nothing that could go wrong? you knew he felt the same way that he did. why wouldn't you take the leap and see where it takes you?

you were a pussy. that's why.

so, you began to distance as if hamzah had the black plague and you were trying to live until you were old and wrinkly. he noticed the uncomfortable amounts of quietude in the apartment and how, suddenly, you began to go out more to parties and hangouts. hamzah knows you; you were never a partying type of girl. he knew there was something up from the sheer amount of you posting on your story about a venue or houseparty you were at, despite being one of the biggest homebodies he knew. did he mention it to you? no. in fact, he amplified the distance since he thought you simply didn't like him the way he liked you. he took your distance as rejection, similar to an empty score on a test or no reply after a job interview.

you distanced yourselves from each other, causing the home to become a house with two bodies far away from each other inside of it. yet, hamzah still decided to introduce you to azra since she would be around more often, causing the awkward situation in front of you to unfold.

"it's nice to meet you," you mentioned as you shook her hand, almost as if this was a business deal instead of an introduction.

she snarked, "yeah, totally. hamzah, you didn't tell me your roommate was a girl?"

hamzah stared at her, "i did. it was one of the first things i told you when i asked if you wanted to come over, actually."

"mmm, i don't remember," she turned to look at you, "will that be a problem?"

confused, you turned your gaze from hamzah to her, "i'm not following. what are you talking about?"

"you're his roommate. you're a girl. i'm his girlfriend. is that an issue?" she cocked her eyebrow.

"no, ma'am, it won't," you reprimanded and gave hamzah a stare of annoyance, "i'm gonna go out. i'll see you later."

azra made herself at home in the least plausible way possible. though hamzah worked hard to keep the kitchen clean each time he decided to cook a meal for the whole house, azra would make a meal for herself and leave the dirty and stained dishes inside of the sink. hamzah would clean the single bathroom sink, since you two shared and he would feel bad if he didn't since he shaves; azra would leave her makeup on the counters in addition to watermarks on the tiling. hamzah's cats loved most people and had no issue with them being around, yet, they would hiss and run away from azra as if she was the wicked witch. the balance of the household was completely diminished ever since she began to come over more often.

so, you decided that you were going to move out. there was no longer space for you in this house anymore; not with her being hamzah's girlfriend.

knocking on hamzah's door, you prayed that his girlfriend wouldn't be in his room. there were too many times where she had accused you of attempting to take him. hamzah would defend you, which you were insanely grateful for since she was driving you up and down the walls, leaving her accusing him of wanting you, as well. the door swung open, revealing hamzah in a gray hoodie and black, nike sweatpants. his hair was held in a beanie with loose curls exiting out of the back of his head. it was always one of your favorite looks of him. he knew that.

"hey, can i come in?"

the clock read 12:03 am. you two sat on his bed after a brief catching up. in those mere moments, you felt like things were normal again. there was no arguing and no awkward distance from each other. in fact, even the silence of the room was comfortable. yet, you knew it couldn't go on for too long.

"so, why'd you decide to come in here?" he asked, genuinely curious.

you cleared your throat, "i just wanted to talk to you about something kinda serious."

"i'm all ears. talk to me. what's up?"

"hamzah, i think it's time for me to move out."

his eyes widened in surprise mixed with a glint of worry, "what?"

"i dunno. i just think that, maybe, you've kinda outgrown me in a way?"

"what are you talking about?"

you hesitated, silence filling the space between you.

"stop it," he softly demanded.

"stop what?"

"just say what you want to say. you're thinking about it too much. say it as it is."

you sighed, "if you're happy with azra, i think i should leave. sometimes, it hurts just to look at you guys. i know it's bad that i'm talking to you about this as you're literally with her, but i guess i haven't gotten over how close we used to be and how it could've turned into something. i think this is for the best. i'll figure out the paperwork tomorrow. i'm sorry, hamzah."

leaving his room in a rush, you began to tear up as you entered your room, went underneath your fuzzy covers, and attempted to sleep.

the next day flew by; you went to the front office to collect the paperwork for the resignation of your lease. attempting to fill it out was rough, since strands of doubt kept on pulling you back from fully signing each signature and information on the paper. at around 8:00 at night, you heard a knock on your door as you began to fill out the last form of resignation. your hand twisted the doorknob, slowly revealing hamzah at the opposite end; he looked like he hadn't slept in a day, as dark circled caressed the bottoms of his eyes.

"hi, um, can i come in?"

you stared at the floor, "yeah, sure."

he sat down on your bed, your mattress making a squeaking noise at the weight of his body being fully transferred onto it. you sat onto the chair of your desk, parallel to him on the bed, and swiveled it around so you would be able to see him.

you questioned out of worry, "are you okay? did you sleep at all last nigh-"

"stay."

"what?"

"stay, please. don't move out, don't go."

you sighed, "hamzah, i'm filling out the papers right now. i'm not needed here anymore."

"but you are needed here! i need you here."

"you have a girlfriend, you have to need her inst-"

"i broke up with her."

uncertainty of the conversation began to make your brain go blank, "what?"

"you can call me a fucked up person. you can call me anything, actually, but you can't say that i don't need you here. i never looked at her the way that i look at you. i think this whole time i've just been looking for everything that you are whenever i looked into her eyes. you can call me fucked up, but i just can't help it. she isn't you. it's like somehow you've tied a rope to me and i can't seem to get out of it, but i also don't want to get out of it? i realized that last night when you told me you wanted to move out."

"hamz-"

"i didn't sleep at all because i was scared."

"why?"

"i didn't want to look to the room in front of mine and have it be empty when it could've been turned into an office or something."

you furrowed your eyebrows, "hamzah, it could still be turned into an office or something. in fact, me moving out would give you more room to-"

he placed his hands on your shoulders, "that's not the point. the point is that i'd want to turn it into an office when you move into my room. the only reason i'd ever want that room to be empty is if it was because you decided that you wanted to share space with me and sleep with me in mine."

"what are you saying?"

his hand made its way to your cheek, "you said that you couldn't get over how we could've been something. we can be something. just stay.

his eyes glistened with hope and nervousness intertwined and holding hands in his irises. hesitance filled the air in between the two; the combination of the intense eye contact, as well as the physical touch of his hand cupping your cheek as if it belonged there, created a sense of uncertainty. you both were uncertain where you would end up, how you would end up, what this interaction would lead to. it was only when hamzah's lips softly landed on yours that you realized that, suddenly, everything fell into place. it was short, sweet, and supple, only lasting about a mere 2 seconds; yet, pulling away was similar to pulling two magnets apart without a handle to hold. the feeling of his lips on yours lingered even after you pulled away.

"y'know, you're a horrible person for trying to find me in another woman," you told him softly.

"call me a horrible person all you want. i'm sorry, baby," he kissed you again, "forgive me?"

"hmm.. i don't know if i can. actually, if you do me this favor, i will.

"a favor as in?"

you handed him the documents you signed, "either burn it or shred it. i don't care."

author's note

i have no clue if im into how this turned out, but surprise lol two in one day!

#hamzah fic #hamzah imagines #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah fluff #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefanatasticxreader

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urboiethan · 2 days ago

Text

I want to clarify and add to this! ----- Eric grew up in Plattsburgh, New York. He played little league when he was younger and had a tight group of friends, they even remembered him after the massacre happened. -----

youtube

(Skip to 5:00 in this Youtube video since Tumblr doesn't allow videos in reposts for some BS reason) ----- I have no doubt personally that he might have been teased while going there, but definitely nothing to the level of which he would end up receiving at Columbine. ----- Eric Harris had to move quite a few times before reaching Littleton, he mentions this many times in his Journals how he 'always had to start at the bottom of the ladder' and how he 'was never able to make friends'.

Eric and Dylan would become close friends in the 7th grade, I'm sure this was sparked due to them having similar interests, later probably growing into a much closer bond (that's usually how most of my BFF friendships started). ----- Once they reached High School is when everything would've started going down hill, not all at once though. Eric and Dylan would often be jeered at by other students and called ‘gay’ or ‘fags/faggots’. A good deal of the harassment was verbal, with kids picking on Eric and Dylan because of their style of dress, musical tastes, and lack of athletic ability. ----- These jocks/popular kids started wearing plain white baseball caps as a status symbol, a culture was then formed surrounding this form of social status in the school. These students become known as 'White Hats'.

These White Hats started pushing people who associated with Eric or Dylan in anyway into lockers, calling them ‘fags’ or ‘lesbians’. White Hats would also begin barricading hallways so Eric and Dylan, along with anyone who may have been with them, would not be able to get through. This would force them to take detours around, something Eric and Dylan often didn’t want to submit to doing.

A specific example of this is when student Devon Adams was pushed into a locker by a White Hat because he saw her talking with Dylan Klebold, saying, “Why are you hanging out with that faggot?! What are you, a dyke?!” ----- Eric Harris would be teased in gym class for having ‘Pectus Excavatum’, which makes your chest look like it’s been poked by a pyramid. Despite having surgery to correct it, White Hats still make fun of him over it to the point he wouldn’t take off his shirt.

Eric Harris was also 'allegedly' held down by White Hats and bashed in the face repeatedly with a volleyball for winning a game in gym class. (They 100% did, I usually have good intuition on these things and that just sounds like some BS they would do at that school).

A redacted student made fun of Eric for having a big head on a skinny body in gym class, while another redacted student also made fun of Eric for sucking at sports in gym class. ----- Brooks Brown, Trevor (a friend of Brooks’) and Eric Harris would all carpool to school in the mornings. Brooks Brown would often be late to pick people up since he drove, and this would drive Eric crazy to the point he would complain the whole ride sometimes about how Brooks needed to get his shit together. One morning he was late and Eric called him, he told him he was running late and that he’ll need to find another ride, to which Eric got incredibly angry. Unfortunately the bus had already left, so he yelled at Brooks until he hung up.

Eric threw snowballs at Brooks Brown's car and Trevor's truck, breaking Brooks’ windshield and denting Trevor's hood. Brooks Brown slamed on the breaks and yelled at Eric from his car window saying, “FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU ERIC, YOU’RE GONNA PAY TO FIX THIS!!!” Eric responded laughing, saying, “Kiss my ass Brooks, I ain’t payin’ for shit!” Brooks got so angry he told Eric’s mom he’s been vandalizing houses and had liquor hidden in his room. Trevor steals Eric's backpack as revenge.

I'm sure this falling out with a mutual friend didn't help his already deteriorating mental state. ----- Judy Brown, Brooks Brown's mother, met with Brooks and Trevor after what happened, and decided it’s best if they all got together and confronted Eric at the Harris’ house. She drives to the bus stop and tells Eric, “Eric, I have your backpack and I’m taking it over to your moms, meet us there!” Eric goes ballistic over seeing they have his property, screaming and pounding on the car door yelling, “GIVE ME MY BACKPACK!” Judy backs away slowly, assuring Eric he can get his stuff back when they reach his moms house but Eric still continued screaming and banging the door. Everyone started to get worried/scared about Eric. When Judy tells Ms. Harris about what happens, she reportedly breaks down crying. ----- This would all culminate with Eric threatening/raging at Brooks on his personal HTML website, that of which was reported by Dylan to Brooks, which he then reported to his parents.

A police report was filed for both the website and to have a search warrant placed at the Harris household, neither of these would actually go through. ----- An anonymous student also called school officials claiming Eric and Dylan had drugs so they would be strip searched and humiliated in front of their peers. ----- Brooks told Eric he wanted to bury the hatchet, saying, “We’ve been pissed off at each other for long enough, I’ve changed a lot since last year, I know I’ve been a piece of shit in a lot of ways and I just hope you feel the same way about yourself. We’re both immature and I just want to move on,”

Eric seemed surprised that Brooks wanted to extend an olive branch, let alone that he’d admit he’d been a jerk. Eric responded with a simple, “Cool,”

Brooks Brown had a cigarette with Eric and Dylan before a White Hat pulled up beside them, yelled insults and threw a glass bottle that shattered at Dylan’s feet. Brooks Brown is understandably pissed at this, but Eric and Dylan didn’t even flinch before Dylan turned to him and says, “Don’t worry about it man, it happens all the time,” ----- Eric Harris has reportedly said to his friend Corey with a cold glare in his eyes, “One of these days I swear, I’m gonna do it! I’m gonna do it!” ----- It's clear to me Eric's anger and depression stemmed mostly from not fitting in, he wasn't like everyone else. This would cause other people to mis-understand who Eric was as a person, leading to people teasing and mocking him/socially shunning him.

I know this because I once had to go through this same BS, and I almost shot up MY school because of it. I was able to pull myself back, I realized the pain I would've left in my wake would only offset the initial pain I felt, and I would end up being the enemy instead of those who wronged me.

Plus it wouldn't had been fair to most people who never even knew who I was, or their families.

We as a society need to stop socially shunning people, then only acceptable reason to socially shun someone should be because they're a pedophile, rapist or murderer. That's about it.

Otherwise, things like this can happen, especially if the person is already mentally unwell.

Ik im like DYLAN centered but lets talk about Eric.

Alot people see Eric as the huge scary guy who did this crime. Yes he did something horrible but you need to understand how Eric was a victim. But not the day he decided to take people from their families.

Growing up Eric moved alot which meant finding friends,getting to know new people and other stuff. Being born with a sunken chest also caused Eric issues in his life from being bullied to probably coughing fits along with chest pain. The fact his bullying got to the point where he wouldnt take his shirt off speaks how horrible Eric had it.

Meeting Dylan. Eric was probably happy when he met Dylan. He probably felt like he finally found someone who was just like him. A nobody. He got closed to Dylan and started copying him and just having a best friend who he could relate too. 4/20/1999 they commited the worse act a child/teenager could ever do. They shot and killed 13 people at their high school. Then turned their weapons on theirselves. Eric was with a 12 Gauge Shotgun to the mouth. Dylan was a 9MM Tec-9 Mini to the temple.

After Columbine. Sue has spoken out about Dylan so much and we know so much about Vodka. But why not Reb? He gets portrayed as some villian and leader when Dylan was just as a sicko villian as Eric. Reb had signs his parents missed. The fact Wayne kept a book on Eric and never thought how his little boy needed some kind of help beside his medicine he took. Eric needed comfort. Eric needed love. Eric needed someone by his side. His friends at NY said Eric wasnt some kind of kid who would do a mass murder. But him going to Colorado and being bullied to the point of having to shoot his school up. Name calling,Fecal matter thrown at him,Bullied because he wasnt from Colorado, Bullied because he was short and his sunken chest. All of that plus having anger,depression and being the black sheep of your family weighed on Erics shoulders making him drive to point of no return and just commiting one of the worse school shootings.

The next time you see someone being bullied please be their friend or defend them. You dont know what their thinking or how far gone they are. Just take some time and be kind.

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diushek · 3 days ago

Text

I can't get the tragicomedy of the Cumplane out of my head, being best friends (and boyfriends, even if SY is too much of an idiot to accept that it's not normal to kiss or fuck your best friend like bros) pre-transmigration. So SY just dies and has to confront the fact that, fuck, he lost his family and his best friend (boyfriend).

And everything goes on normally until post-Abyss, when he discovers that Shang Qinghua... is a transmigrator. And he hits him with his fan and screams, but when he finds out that HE IS Airplane, there's no reasoning when they're already kissing furiously.

They resume their relationship as if time had not passed. They get together to eat and talk nonsense. They spend the night together. Getting used to their new bodies in that form is weird (SY used to be shorter than SQH. Now it's the other way around and it's funny).

The other Peak Lords don't really understand what happened there or why the distant Peak Lords of Qing Jing and An Ding now seem to be in a perpetual state of indecent honeymoon. Of course no one has the balls to ask directly.

... and well, actually everything is going well until everything goes wrong, of course, because Binghe returns, things happen, and without knowing how (genuinely, SQQ is sure that he missed some step along the way), Shang Qinghua is his boyfriend, but Shang Qinghua is Mobei Jun's future consort of the northern kingdom, which leads to Luo Binghe being the new Emperor of the Demon Realm, which also leads to him now being his, another boyfriend? and insisting that Shen Qingqiu be his empress?

At least he didn't kill Shang Qinghua for getting his hands on him. And Mobei Jun didn't kill him for touching his (according to Mobei) consort that he courted for years either. Ah. Weird demons.

(The relationship between Mobei Jun and Shen Qingqiu is only civil, they force each other to get along to the point where it stops being an obligation. In reality Shen Qingqiu is curious and a weirdo by nature, so even though it's a bit annoying, Mobei Jun can enjoy his company platonically.

Mobei Jun and Luo Binghe must have fucked before. At least that's what Shang Qinghua thinks. He thinks the only way the two of them could have solved this whole thing -their relationship- happening, was with sex.

Unfortunately, too knowledgeable about the PIDW universe and its rules, Shen Qingqiu believes him.)

#svsss ideas #svsss au #mxtx svsss #svsss #ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong #bingqiu #cumplane #moshang #just cumplane and bingqiu and moshang being a something together #polyamorous arrangements #that discussion must have been fun #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #shang qinghua #mobei jun #polyamory

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bluem1lls · 7 hours ago

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Hi! Could you do a fluff Se-mi one shot? Unfortunately I don’t really have any prompt to give you but I think a out of squid game AU would be pretty cool! Like it could be when they first met, or first date sm like that!

I would really appreciate it if you write it, but if not that’s absolutely fine! I hope you have an amazing day! <3

headcanons gf! se-mi

✦ synopsis: never let your annoying best friends to stop you from finding your girlfriend!

tw: a bit of nsfw

authors note: hiii im sorry for the no update, work is killing me but here's this! i hope u like it💓 tysm for the requests!

-> se-mi, who you've met because of a close friends hangout.

"would it be okay if i bring se-mi?" min su asked as i passed the joint to thanos.

"is she cute?" nam gyu asked.

"she's a lesbian" min-su answered with a chuckle.

"oh?" i said as i pay more attention to the conversation.

"she's probably not your type tho, you're so picky" min su said rolling his eyes as i scoffed.

-> se-mi, who was totally your type.

when you two met, you bonded immediately, laughing and smoking together as the other three were sitting on the couch staring.

"what about us man? when it's our turn?" nam-gyu said, watching as she said something that made you blush.

thanos and min su shook their head as they kept smoking.

"i bet i can drink more than you" she said as you laughed. "wanna bet?" she said with a smirk. "if i win, i get your number"

no need. two shots in and you were giving her your number no matter what.

-> se-mi, who texted you while you were passed out on nam gyu's bed as he was sprawled on the floor with thanos's arm around him.

you tried to find your phone, lowering the brightness as you grabbed it while your head throbbed.

pretty girl w the piercings: hi

pretty girl w the piercings: maybe its too soon but would you like to have dinner tonight? we can do something chill :)

-> se-mi, who has you waking up thanos and nam gyu with screams of happiness.

"who died?!" nam-gyu opened his eyes wide.

"min-su?! my boy?" thanos asks, alarmed

"se-mi texted me! she wants to hang out tonight! it's a date!" i said getting up the bed to quickly shower.

"this can't happen anymore bro. she needs to stop getting drunk and sleeping in your room" thanos says to nam gyu as he throws himself into his bed and covers himself with the blankets.

nam gyu blinks. two people already slept in his bed, none of those being him. he sighs as he goes into thanos's room to sleep some more.

"for fucks sakes" he mumbles.

-> se-mi, who's soon arriving to your house.

"i need you two idiots out of here tonight" you said, putting your earrings on and brushing your hair as they stared.

thanos winked as he grabbed his phone to call someone. "we're on our way" i could hear min-su over the phone screaming to thanos, alarmed, because he was on a family reunion. "we're your family too boy! be there in 20" he said, hanging up.

well. they're min-su's problem now.

-> se-mi, who stood there in all back, as she played with her lip piercing, smirking and looking up and down as you open the door.

"hi!"

"hey pretty" she said, as you moved aside, letting her in.

"we're just leaving" she got in as the guys got out, giving a quick head nod to her.

"get laid" thanos shouted from outside.

"she needs it" nam-gyu followed him.

of course you stood there all blushy as she chuckled.

you'll kill them later.

-> se-mi, who brought everything you told her you liked! a horror movie, your favorite snacks, diet coke and ice cream as dessert.

"it's this is okay? maybe i should've bought more things. now i'm nervous maybe it's time for a smoke break-" she rambles too much. you don't give her time to think as you cup her face and kiss her. her eyes widen in surprise but she quickly melts into it.

-> se-mi, who's quickly stopping the makeout sesh to turn on some 'cigarettes after sex' on the speaker.

-> se-mi, who starts hanging out more with the boys and talks a lot about you.

-like a lot. nam-gyu is tired. he has to see you at home and now hear about you??

-> se-mi, who loves chill dates with you, like staying at home and watching some movie.

-> se-mi, who has to get used to the guys because half of the dates probably include them bc they feel left out:(

its like you two are mothers going out with three kids. three very dumb kids (26 year old adults). but you love them and se-mi learns to love them too .. kind of. give her time.

-> se-mi, who not even two months in she's decoring your room with your favorite flowers and a sign that says 'would you let me be your girlfriend?' you kiss her until your lips go numb.

-> gf!se-mi who doesn't know how to keep her hands out of you. her hands on your hips, hugging you from behind, circles on your waist, underneath your shirt.

-> gf!se-mi who loves playing video games. she's SO happy when she finds out you don't actually like playing but you like watching. she buys all your favorite games and plays them all for you

"BABY, TURN RIGHT. I'VE WATCHED THIS 20 TIMES, GO RIGHT" you shout at her.

"do you wANNA PLAY?" she replies, getting exasperated trying to follow your indications.

you pout as you shook your head.

she loves this. wouldn't trade it for the world.

-> gf!se-mi who loves taking you shopping to the mall. clearly for the lingerie stores. probably ends up fingering you in there.

she buys anything you like, baby is poor but she tries SO hard for her girl:(

you're pointing at a plushie?? it's yours.

clothes u like? she knows your size, it's yours.

-> gf!se-mi who discovered your music tastes are so different that she can't believe she's listening to taylor swift and olivia rodrigo songs to learn them for you. she's incredibly down bad.

-> gf!se-mi who gets you a necklace with her initial

"for: baby

it's not because i own you, but because i really know you :)"

-> gf!se-mi who gets SO nervous when you wanna introduce her to ur parents. and she's so happy when they approved her.

-> gf!se-mi that is SOO smart, everytime she helps u study you're moaning.

-> gf!se-mi that's not studying for now, just working. but you are.

and when she sees you burned out? oh she's the first one to be there helping.

"baby, you've been studying for hours, let's take a break"

"i can't sem. my parents-"

"okay okay, let's go through the flashcards again and we'll take a nap, how does that sound?"

-> gf!se-mi that is there when you get a 87 and not a 100. and you're crying about what your parents are going to say while she caress your hair and kisses you.

"we'll start again in a bit if you want to, but for now let it out princess" she kisses your temple.

-> gf!se-mi who everyone stares when she takes you to campus. but she has no idea, she's just looking at you.

-> gf!se-mi who's a fuckgirl in recovery tho..

like the idea of cheating does not cross her mind. but sometimes she smiles. too much.

and maybe some girl is winking at her because god you have a HOT girlfriend.

and she just turns to you, smirking.

"did u see that babe? i haven't lost my charm ;)" she says as you scoff in disbelief. you two end up making out until her brain is too fuzzy to remember what she told you.

"just wanted her to see that you're mine" you say as you clean up any of your messed up lipstick.

her boxers are wet. sticky and wet.

and if someone you know is frequently flirting with her? next time they'll see her, she has three big bruised spots on her neck, and she's SO happy.

one time she had a little admirer at her job who went to see her like three times a week.

baby: she's here!!!!!!!!!!!

me: who???

me: wait.. stalker??

baby: mhm.

and when you leave her on seen, she frowns. she scans everything this girl is taking as she feels her phone vibrating. she checks her messages and oh! it's you!

two photos. one of you in her favorite red lingerie and the second one, you moving aside those pretty panties to send your bare pussy.

she's drooling. and her brain is pretty much broken.

"i-m-m sorry" she stutters to the girl in front of her, who frowns. "min-su cover for me! i'll stay tomorrow" se-mi screams at him and smiles at the girl who looks like her heart got crushed.

-> gf!se-mi who also gets jealous easily. match made in heaven!

give her two seconds before she's eyeing up and down with a cold stare to anyone who's talking to you. her hands grip your waist as they start to roam over your body, she leaves a wet neck kiss as she gets close to your ear.

"bathroom. right now. or you wanna show them you're only my whore? because i'll fuck you right here and i'll make them watch" she whispers on your ear while you're talking, making you shiver.

yeah forget the chat, it wasn't that interesting anyways.

-> gf!se-mi that spends every sundays with you

lazy days, laying in bed hugging and kissing eachother, picking two books out of your book shelf to read for a while. if it's raining?? movie, take out food and a nap.

she just wants to be with you, does not care about anything else.

-> gf!se-mi that if you're into romantic stuff, she's doing her best for her girl. sometimes she forgets tbh but there it is min-su to remind her!

se-mi: 😭 she's mad at me

min-su: it's flower day. according to tik tok, girl's wanna receive a yellow bouquet

se-mi: you're my second favorite person.

and she's at your door 30 minutes after you got mad with a yellow bouquet, smiling behind it.

she really tries.

-> gf!se-mi who knows how to draw so well, she actually draws a bouquet of ur favorite flowers to give u every month.

-> gf!se-mi who finds tik toks about kitties and sends them to you.

you open tik tok once again as you see a new video sent by your girlfriend. is a black cat licking a white cat with a pink bow

semisucks: das us:)

-> gf!se-mi who loves when you do skincare on her but she already has a pretty spotless face. although she uses hand soup to wash her face

-> gf!se-mi who never stopped flirting with you, she has to keep her girl

" you look so good tonight, you're lucky i have a wife or ill be taking you to bed real fast" she says winking as you roll your eyes.

-> gf!se-mi that after two years of dating, wants to move with you.

"you didnt ask for our consent" thanos says, shooking his head no as you both tell them the news.

"you steal our best friend and now you want her to move? that's not happening" nam gyu agrees with him.

you stare at the three of them who are fighting about you like little kids.

"well, i guess its time to bring the second choice" i say to se-mi as she places her head on the table as she mumbles 'fuck'

"she moves here" i say, staring at those two as they stare at eachother.

"fine. but no moaning" thanos says as nam gyu nods.

-> gf!se-mi who hates her birthday, except this year, when you throw her a mini surprise party with nam-gyu, thanos and min-su.

-> gf!se-mi who can't cook... please don't make her.

-> gf!se-mi who protects you and puts you on top of anything.

you're her girl after all.

nsfw hc!

-> gf!se-mi who has an obsession with your tits, when youre riding her? shes having a blast seeing your tits bounce

-> gf!se-mi who fucks u in public places. 100%

-> gf!se-mi who has a broken brain when she sees you with a new lingerie set.

-> gf!se-mi who has a black strap. and god she knows how to use it

-> gf!se-mi who didn't do it right if you're not crying and trembling by the end of the night.

-> gf!se-mi who loves quickies. everytime you two are about to go out you're suddenly 15 minutes late because you just looked so cute in that oufit, that she had to eat you out.

-> gf!se-mi who quiets her whimpers everytime you're eating her out while she's playing with the guys.

"are you okay? focus dip shit" nam-gyu says to her.

she's on her chair, completely flustered and out of breath, biting her lips while you're swirling around her clit.

"i'm- i'm fine" she sttuters as she quickly mutters the mic, her hand grabs your hair. "right there princess"

-> gf!se-mi who loves to hear you while she fucks you. if you're not screaming she's not happy.

-> gf!se-mi that gets extremely frustrated when you tease her in public.

it's okay, she'll make you her slut when you're back home<3

#se mi x reader #player 380 x reader #se-mi x reader #player 380 #se mi #se-mi #squid game #lesbian #squid game 2 #se mi squid game #wlw #squid games smut #squid games #squid games 2 #squid games x reader #se mi x reader smut #se-mi squid games #se mi squid games

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kyyupidz · 8 hours ago

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Hey hey :3! Soooo it’s my birthday in acouple days and I was wondering if I could request some x reader content with Floydie. I love him very dearly and would like to spend my birthday with him pls and thank u :}

hey siri: is my boyfriend love-bombing me? (g/n reader x floyd leech)

★ after dating floyd leech for a week, you come to the sickening realization (before your birthday no less!) that floyd leech may or may not be love-bombing you. dammit! well, no relationships stay perfect forever, right? ★ hurt/comfort, preestablished relationship ★ 2.75k words, reader is the ramshackle prefect, reader is called shrimpy, brief ace, deuce, grim, and azul mention, happy birthday user cryptidsandcreepycrawlings! <3

a week ago, you confessed your undying love to floyd leech of octavinelle.

stupid? maybe. when you brought up the idea to your friends, they pretty much all told you to drop it. ace had called you as senseless as deuce, deuce was too surprised to respond to either of you, and grim had begun shaking even thinking about floyd.

unfortunately for them, all their warnings went through one ear and out the other. what’s the worst he could do? kill you? bring it! you’re not afraid!

...okay, maybe you were a little scared. when you decided to completely disregard all warning flags and desperate mewls of mercy from grim, you were, admittedly, extremely nervous. you had locked yourself in the bathroom, and while grim clawed at the door trying to stop you, you texted floyd to meet you at the courtyard in the evening.

his response?

nah

…oh. well–

kidding dw ill be there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! wait for me okay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and that’s how you managed to drag floyd leech out to the courtyard to spill your heart out to him!

…too bad the confession itself was… well… a whole stumble of words. nobody said it was going to be easy confessing to a 191 centimeter eel! you couldn’t even look him in the eyes, you were so scared! at the very least, he had kept quiet the whole time you were word-vomiting, patiently waiting for you to finish.

and when you were done… you had glanced up at him and… and…

he was smiling like crazy. like, maniacal crazy. your heart had practically stopped in your chest when you looked at him, and not because he was pretty, but because you were scared he was going to pull out a scalpel and carve it into your flesh!

…okay, maybe it was because he was pretty. but that’s not the point!

surprisingly, instead of laughing in your face or torturing you or just walking off, he immediately made a grab for you and pulled you into his arms, long arms encircling your torso and crushing the ribs inside to dust.

“aww, shrimpy! let me give you a big squeeze!” he had squealed excitedly, “ahaha!~ ain’t you just the cutest? okay, let’s have fun and play together forever and ever!”

admittedly, his acceptance of your feelings was a little creepy and ominous. it didn’t feel like he reciprocated more so that he was chaining you to him and dooming you to be his eternal plaything. but those are just details! what’s important is that he said yes, and now you’re officially dating floyd leech!

and really, it’s been a dream. more than that. he’s everything you wanted. even though grim immediately scampers upstairs into the safety of your shared room when he visits and ace keeps gagging every time you talk about him, he’s perfect.

when he enters a conversation with someone, he immediately goes on a tangent about how “shrimpy just confessed their feelings to me!” which is quickly followed up by “you better congratulate me or i’m gonna squeeze you.”

the thought of him showing you off to other people really makes your heart warm!

and when you initiated the first kiss, a chaste peck on the cheek, he immediately pounced on you and gave you thousands more in turn. your friends are sick of seeing him draped on you and making kissy faces at you all the time, but you wouldn’t have it any other way!

better yet, he’s been walking you to class every morning and walking you home every afternoon, saying that he just wants to spend a little more time with his favorite shrimpy. he doesn’t always lead you to class like he promises, sometimes dragging you along to skip in his room, but where floyd goes, you follow!

you guys are perfect. at least, you really thought you guys were perfect. but last night, ace had crashed on your couch, and made you rethink your entire relationship.

“are you sure he likes you, prefect?” he had asked you. and you immediately rolled your eyes, prepared for another lecture about how you need to rethink your love life choices.

“stop trying to break us up already,” you replied, swatting his shoulder, “this is why you keep getting collared.”

yet instead of just sighing and letting it go, ace had fallen eerily silent.

“i don’t know, prefect,” he muttered, “what if he suddenly decides you’re not fun anymore and dumps you? you know how he is, with his crazy mood swings. what if you do something he doesn’t like and he decides then and there, ‘it’s over!’”

at the time, you had swatted at him again, scowling.

“floyd would never do that!” you said, “he isn’t like that!”

but now… you aren’t so sure.

you know, it’s awful of you to think this way about your boyfriend! especially when he’s been nothing but kind to you. but you just can’t help yourself, this irrational feeling taking root in your mind and infesting your every thought.

what if he really is just dating you because he thought it’d be fun in the moment? what if he really does dump you the moment you become boring? oh sevens, is this what they call love-bombing? are you being love-bombed?

you feel a pit forming in your stomach. worst part? tomorrow’s your birthday. your birthday! and you’re spending it stressed and worked up over a hypothetical chance of your boyfriend not liking you. dammit, that’s not fair!

in hopes of at least having a relatively decent birthday, you do everything that you can to put yourself to sleep. warm milk, counting sheep, running around a few times…

it doesn’t work. you keep tossing and turning and groaning with exasperation.

and when floyd shows up at your door the next morning, you find yourself not overwhelmed with love, but doubt. does he really like you? or is this just one big game to him, where he sees how much fun he can squeeze out of you before you’ve run out of entertainment value?

is that what this is? a game?

“hey, shrimpy,” floyd says, snapping you out of your thoughts. he’s pouting, clearly displeased that you’re ignoring him. “i’ve been calling your name for like, the past five minutes. what’s got your brain so scrambled today?”

you smile up at him, standing on your tip-toes to give him his morning kiss. for some reason, it feels wrong. hollow, devoid of any sort of affection.

…you make sure to give him a few more to make up for it. it makes him giggle and kiss you back.

“sorry,” you respond back as cheerfully as you can, “it’s nothing, really! guess i stayed up a little too late today.”

…sevens, what are you thinking, doubting your boyfriend? you’re just the worst, aren’t you? he doesn’t deserve that, not after all he’s done for you! someone who doesn’t love you wouldn’t walk you to class every single day. he’s done too much for you to chalk it up to simple love-bombing!

besides, who knows floyd better, ace, or you? obviously, you! you’re his partner! so why are you even bothering listening to ace? ace, of all people?!

you know what floyd’s like. you know that if he’s interested in something, he’ll chase after it for a while before it gets old and he ditches it. but those are things. objects. you do the same thing sometimes, abandoning a book if you start to get tired reading it. but people are a whole different matter. he wouldn’t do that to people, would he? would he ditch a person like that?

no. he wouldn’t! you know he wouldn’t.

…would he?

“hey,” you say suddenly, and he peers down at you curiously.

“yeah?”

“if… hypothetically,” you start, trying to figure out how to articulate your thoughts, “jade wasn’t cool anymore, would you… abandon him? like, you weren’t having fun anymore with him.”

“if jade wasn’t cool anymore, huh…?” he hums in thought, shoving his hands into his pocket, “...nah. that’d never happen.”

you blink. okay, maybe his brother was a bad example. blood is thicker than water, or something. you can’t say you’re too surprised.

“really?” you prompt, “not at all?”

“no way,” he shakes his head, “i mean, if he was, i’d totally drag him to the bottom of the ocean and let him get ganged up on by sharks. but i’d never get bored of jade!”

on second thought, maybe blood isn’t thicker than water. you shiver despite yourself. if that’s the treatment jade gets, you’re horrified to even think about what’s going to happen to you. maybe ace was right after all…?

“why’d ya ask though, shrimpy?” he says, pinching your cheek, “someone got ya thinking that i’m gonna ditch you if you get boring?”

wow. bullseye. you forget how perceptive he can be sometimes. you laugh nervously, dismissing his concerns with a wave of your hand.

“nothing like that,” you say, like a liar, “just thinking.”

yeah. yeah! you’re just overthinking it all. you mentally kick yourself for believing ace’s stupidity once again, and vow to make it up to floyd by being extra sweet and nice and cool. good thoughts, happy thoughts. you’re going to have a good day with your boyfriend and you’re going to celebrate living one more year with absolutely zero negative thoughts!

(and yet, you still find that nagging “what-if” gnawing at the back of your mind.)

“floyd…” you manage to work up the courage to call out as you both sit in one of the mostro lounge booths. he’s supposed to be on the job, but he decided on a whim to skip and hang out with you. he says it’s more fun being with you than running around taking people’s orders.

you didn’t know how you felt about that, considering your recent revelations, but you smiled back regardless. after all, doubts or no doubts, he is still your boyfriend. and you want to spend your birthday with the guy you really like!

“what’s up, shrimpy?” he responds, chewing on your milkshake straw. despite serving it to you, he’s taken it for himself, the thief.

you steel your nerves, drawing in a breath. even though you told yourself earlier this morning that it was all nothing, you couldn’t stop thinking about ace’s words all day. so, you’re going to confront him for the second time today! but not in a roundabout way like before, no no no, you’re going to ask him head-on if he’s gonna leave you if you become a bore! as they say, communication is key, right?

“do you…” you pause, palms suddenly feeling very sweaty, “...like me?”

floyd blinks at you. once… twice…

“are you confessing to me again?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“huh?” you sputter out, “no, no, i’m not confessing to you again, i–”

“awh, shrimpy, i already told you i liked you a week ago! your brain’s been real scrambled today, huh? don’t worry, i know just the way to unscramble it!”

and with that, he jumps up from his seat and runs off. you can only stare wide-eyed and slack-jawed as he pushes his way towards the mostro lounge kitchen and disappears behind the double doors.

you thought he’d come back in a few minutes or so, but no. he took until closing. had he done this any day but today, you would’ve let it slide. even before you two were dating, you used to wait for him all the time in this specific booth, waiting for him to finish up. but now…

you just feel bad. like you got stood-up or something. you couldn’t even finish your milkshake, you were so down in the dumps. not that you could’ve anyway, floyd chewed your straw to bits. the downsides of having a boyfriend with sharp teeth, you suppose.

but just when you were about to give up, go home, and text him later that you weren’t feeling well, floyd bursts out from the kitchen and places an absolutely huge ice cream sundae on the table.

“ta-da!” he beams, sliding into the seat across from you with a grin, “whaddaya think? pretty cool, right?”

you gape at the monstrosity that floyd just laid before you. you’re not even sure what flavor the ice cream is. you think he took a scoop from every single tub the mostro lounge had and threw them all in, though it’s hard to tell by the way he’s drowned the whole thing in sauces and whipped cream. you look closer and spot a brownie and cookie layer completely drowned in the mess of sugar. are those… gummy worms too?

“this is…” you start, then immediately clamp your mouth shut. you’re not sure what he’d do if you told him this is simply too much.

floyd’s smile only grows. “totally awesome, i know. i’m a cooking prodigy! azul chewed my ear out about it, saying that i’m wasting resources ‘n’ that i should be at the front helping the actual customers, but he let it go eventually. he’s gonna force me on dish-washing duty later, but it’s okay because i did it for shrimpy!”

your heart thumps loudly in your chest, the negative thoughts you were harboring seeming to fade away at his declaration. you can’t help but smile back at him, the way he so eagerly awaits your praise melting your doubts away.

“it is awesome,” you say softly, “you’re awesome. thank you so much.”

floyd seems to practically radiate pride, that maniacal smile you’re all too familiar with on full display. you gaze affectionately at the sharp row of teeth he sports. that’s your man right there!

“look, look,” he presses, “let me show you the best part.”

he turns the sundae around, and lodged haphazardly in between the glass and the sundae are two sugar cookies.

they look like… you. and floyd.

the one resembling floyd is messily frosted. there was an obvious attempt to create his signature smile, but it seems like the frosting tip was just a bit too big. and the frosting tip for his hair seems like it was too small, so every strand just looks like well-cooked blue spaghetti.

but yours is almost identical to you. obviously, he’s taken a few artistic liberties, but compared to floyd’s? yours looks like a professional baker did it. it appears to you that between the time it took for him to make his cookie and the time it took to make yours, he got a rather significant boost in cookie decorating skills.

“aren’t they cute?” he says happily, “i worked really hard on them, y’know. never knew how hard it was to frost cookies!”

you gingerly pick your cookie up. the more you look at it, the more you feel your face warm. it’s like you’re falling in love all over again.

it really does look like you. you wonder how long he had to stare at a picture of you to get it down so well. or maybe he’s got your face memorized so well that he can recall every detail? either way, you feel a flutter in your stomach.

“hey-hey, shrimpy,” floyd calls, “show me your cookie real quick?”

you blink. slowly, you turn the cookie to him, and he smushes the face of his own cookie onto the face of yours. the frosting smears against your fingertips as you gasp at the sudden destruction floyd has caused.

“look, they’re kissing!” he giggles childishly, unfazed by the hours of his hard work he just disregarded. you stare shocked at the cookie sandwich that floyd has just created.

he smiles at you, with his sharp teeth and stained uniform, and boops your nose with his finger. “happy birthday shrimpy.”

and then you realize, sevens, how could floyd ever leave you?

“...you know what,” you say breathlessly, “you know what, i think the real floyd should get some love, too.”

you reach over the table to grab him by his collar and pull him in for a kiss. it’s just as calamitous as the cookie kiss, just lips smashing against lips, but you both pull away laughing and red-faced and wholly in love.

“so?” he prompts, propping himself up on one hand to stare at you, “your brain all fixed up now?”

you smile at him. really smile at him. “yeah. all fixed. thank you, floyd.”

…wait, so, you have to eat this mess of a sundae he created now, right?

note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! not only is this my first request, this is also a BIRTHDAY REQUEST??? oh boy. I REALLY REALLY REALLY HOPE this fic gives you nothing but good blessings and much fortune because by the time i was done writing i realized maybe writing a hurt/comfort fic wasn't the way to go for a birthday present. NONETHELESS i do hope the comfort balanced out the hurt and that the hurt didn't hurt too bad!!! may you receive nothing but the best and may you live to see the next birthday with mr floyd leech himself! <3 <3 <3 <3

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justastargirlbabe · 1 day ago

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Assurance | R. Cameron

insecure!reader x bf!rafe

Warnings: oral (fem.receiving), reader is insecure of her body, aftercare, i think thats it...

summary: You can always count on your boyfriend to show you how beautiful you are.

Friday night, you and rafe ALWAYS go out on friday night… but instead you're sitting on the floor doom scrolling. Your mind is racing seeing all these gorgeous girls online. Oh how you wanted to be those girls so bad.You've always hated your body, constantly getting those weird subtle comments on it from peers and family, and it didn’t get any better once you started dating rafe. You never missed any of the stares you get at the club pool, or the whispers from kook bitches, or surprised looks from adults when they find out about your relationship with rafe. Of Course you love Rafe with all of your heart but everything has just been getting too much and you hate your body more than ever.

You've been rejecting invites from your friends, completely avoiding going out, and ignoring rafe. *19 unread notifications from: Rafey <3*, your phone read. Turning down the music you throw your phone on the floor,Bringing your knees up to your chest as you start whimpering, and then it all comes out and you're completely sobbing on the floor.

in the middle of your breakdown you miss the sound of your door opening and suddenly here Rafe yelling " Babe where are you?? why are you ignoring me, is everything okay”. he worryingly pushes the door open, you don't move. " baby what's going on, are you okay why are you crying, talk to me mamas” Rafe pleads to you worryingly. " Go away, don't look at me, please just leave I'm fine” you say, wiping your tears, putting on a fake smile. Rafe pulls you into his arms despite your protests, “babe please just talk to me, whatever it is I'll make it better I promise let me help you” Finally you give in. “it's just- it's just why do you even love me when I look like this? all these other girls with their skinny bodies and Rich families and you want me?” you say whilst sobbing, tears starting to cover his shirt . "Oh honey, you're beautiful and I don't care about money or these Other girls, I love you, only you, all right Mama”. he wipes off a few tears and kisses your burning cheeks you cling to him wrapping your arms and legs around his muscular body. he lifts you up and sits you on the bed kneeling in front of you. “Is this why you've been hiding from me all week? dodging my calls and texts because you don't think you're beautiful?” He questions, looking for an answer.You nod your head, “it's all just becoming too much for me, all the people at the club with their opinions and Nasty looks, I guess it just made me realize I'm not good enough for you” you say scared of Rafe’s response. “I'm sorry baby, if there's anyone specifically who's been upsetting you please let me know so I can deal with it. I always want you to be comfortable when you’re with me,ok?” You nod your head again too overwhelmed to respond. Rafe senses your tense body. "you know what baby, let me just show you how beautiful I think you are.” Rafe smirks, your eyes go wide. He slowly lifts off your, his, oversized shirt. you're holding your breath as he kisses your stomach whispering.“ my girl is so beautiful”. Your bra goes next, and suddenly Rafe is sucking your nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud. you push his face into you and throw your head back. “you like that don't you Mama, going to make you feel so good baby”. you moan in response. he kisses his way to the band of your pajama pants, he lifts your hips and pulls down the pants, your panties along with them. he looks up at your speechless face. “fuck honey, your soaking, is that all for me?” he patiently waits for your response. “Yes daddy, please I need you to touch” you blabber. “ ‘m need your special kisses so bad”. “don't worry your sexy little head mama, ima take good care of you bub”. He moves up and kisses you passionately on the lips, taking time to suck on your tongue, pulling away with a ‘pop’. He moves in between your legs and drags his finger through your folds. Muttering under his breath. He places a delicate kiss on your clit, and moves down to your dripping hole. He sticks his tongue in, swirling it around and licks a stripe up back to your clit sucking it into his mouth. making you yell out in pleasure. Hearing how much you're enjoying it, he sucks harder, bringing up two digits to finger your pussy. “Fuck daddy, i dont think i can take it much longer.” you plead. “Shh Mama you'll take what I give you, my gorgeous little slut”. His words make you clench around his fingers. “fuck you're so close. I can feel you squeezing honey”. He pumps his fingers at a tiring pace, only replacing them with his tongue and slapping your clit when he hears your screams.

He comes to hold you, trying to calm your restless body, as you come down from an overwhelming high. Once you’ve relaxed, you grab at his pants to return the favor, your mind still fuzzy. “Uh-uh sweet girl” he tuts, pushing your hand a way pulling you closer. “But”, you protest but you're silenced by his endearing voice. “no baby,let me take care of you ‘kay?”. You allow him to place you on the bed, your body craving his touch when he left to fetch a towel from the bathroom. “Spread your legs baby”. He says sweetly. gently wiping your sensitive pussy, covered in liquids, and gives one quick kiss to your clit, causing you to jolt. He takes his shirt off, knowing you'll need skin-to-skin contact, and lays your head on his chest. You lay there listening to him muttering sweet nothings and giving gentle kisses to your temple and neck. Finally feeling some sort of assurance that you were missing.

I think this is kinda bad, because it is my first time writing...But please let me know if there's any ways i can improve, and feel free to send requests!!

#obx fic #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x plussize reader #plus size!reader #outer banks fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader

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milkwaydreams · 3 days ago

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My conclusion after EP 13 for Perfect 10 Liners is: I LOVE FAIFA! 😍

He is so F extra, I really love him 🤣 And the way Junior portrays him is so cute, I have no idea how many times I said "I love Faifa" during this whole episode 🤣🤭 I'm really curious to know more about him and his traumas. I feel he tries to be friend of everyone and help them either because he himself don't wanna feel lonely or abandoned again, or don't want the others to feel lonely like he did. I really don't know but I'm dying to learn about it 🤔 Hope I continue to like him in his story please 😃🤣

Also, I love how EVERYONE in that class began to mock Yotha and Gun when they began the whole tie scene right there in the front. If you look at the extras, even them are making the "Do my tie" gesture and I quacked when I noticed that🤣🤣 The friendship mockery on this whole series is my favorite part, help 🤣🤣

AND THE WAY GUN HIDES BEHIND FAIFA IS SO CUTE. He feels safe with Faifa, he goes to him and opens up, breaks down crying in front of Fai, that's what I call trust and I love it. Also Fai protecting Gun from Yotha cause he don't want Yotha to hurt Gun anymore... I love him... I can't, that's too sweet 😭😭😭

And Junior showing that he can indeed act serious too and not just goofy, ooh, I love to see that🤭🤭🤭

About Warit and Klao, really can't talk on their matter cause, it just hits too close to home... I've been in the EXACT SAME situation as Warit and my way out of it was shitty af so, I don't even know how to react to watching what happened to me as a viewer cause I'll always lean more for Warit cause I FULLY understand him...

So I'm just gonna talk about the slap. I'm SURE that that slap hurt 100% more than any of the punches Klao took the whole episode. I vocalized a loud "OH SHIT" the moment I heard the sound. And I liked that Warit did that cause it was effective in a way that talking at that moment wouldn't be as Klao was completely out so the slap was like a reboot in the system 🤣🤣🤣 I think things will begin to move forward to them now cause they actually talked about it, Warit expressed how he actually feels about Yotha so, it should work from now (I HOPE, PLEASE 😃)

And then, Santa crying... OMG, THAT WAS GOOD SCENES. It sounds sad saying it like this but I swear I mean good🤣🤣

I was/am impressed at the way he cries cause he KNOWS how to cry. The way his voice shakes when he speaks, his whole body flinching, I don't know if I'm the only one that felt this but I was genuinely impressed. If you tell me that he was crying for real and not acting there, I'd fully believe you 😭😭😭😭

And let me tell you, I went 😮 when Yotha kissed Warit like... I was not expecting it😃 First of all, "OMG, PERTHBOOM" that was my stupid head first thought😃🤣🤣 Then I went "Noo, don't do this to me... Don't make he still like Warit..." and I KNEW GUN WAS GONNA SEE THAT, OFC HE WOULD😃😃

But please... My baby is pretty and looks good even crying but... Let's not make him cry this much anymore, please 😃😃😃 SPARE MY POOR HEART😭😭😭😭

And the preview... I'm scared actually. Wait for him why?! Why Yotha?! Wait what?! What do you mean?! Come back here and explain right now 😃 And now we will get the beach YothaGun scenes from the trailer so, that plus the "Wait for me" made me really go "???????"

Ahh... These series... Why can't they just be released all together so I binge everything and be happy?! 😃😃😃

+ I have too much of rot in my brain cause in the bar scene, Lykn's May I? plays in the background and all I could pay attention to was the song and that it was Lykn... I need rehab from them atp, this is an addiction 😃😃🤣🤣🤣🤣

#perfect 10 liners #yothagun #perthsanta #arcarm #forcebook #faifawine #juniormark #Perfect 10 Liners ep 13 #aouboom #bl series

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hollyhomburg · 19 hours ago

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Prey Animals (7)

— Pairing: Poly Ot7, hoseok x Ot6, Yoongi x reader, Bts x reader,

— Genre: Omegaverse, Mafia au, Polyamory au, Found family, Suspense, Eventual Smut, enemies to friends to lovers, Healing & Themes of trauma,

— Summary: In a world where Beta's are rare, valuable, and often have more than one pack; Beta Min Yoongi does everything he can to keep his mafia heritage a secret from his primary pack. Little does he know he's not the only one who's living a double life.

— Words: 4.7k

— Warnings: Past Emotional abuse, past psychological abuse, referenced mistreatment, referenced sexual manipulation, breakups, brief homelessness, Hoseok has PTSD, hurt/comfort

— Check in at the end for my notes on this chapter! —

(Yoongi, 1 year and 3 months ago)

Yoongi brings Hoseok home one day. Like a little kid would bring home a stray puppy. Apparently, they work together somewhere.

Namjoon and Jin and the others have long stopped asking what Yoongi does for work, used to his cagey answers. But it’s normal as far as beta’s go. Each of them gives Yoongi his space because they understand that all beta’s need it. They’ve all had the same sentiments shoved on them.

Don’t crowd him. At least he comes home. If it was something we needed to know, he’d tell us. He’ll tell you if you really want to know Koo.

Seokjin’s not really surprised that Yoongi does something with music now, that’s always been his first love (before Seokjin of course) he’s always saying this and that, someone showed me this song during work, do you mind if I play it? It’s stuck in my head. And now because of Hoseok- they know why.

It’s easy to see how a person could get stuck in your head, the same way a favorite song might. Especially when it comes to Hoseok.

It’s the first time they learn of Yoongi’s occupation in nearly a year. The pack tries not to be jealous that Hoseok knows more about what their beta does during the day than they do. That he gets to spend more time with him. Hours and hours the same way that Seokjin used too.

They work at the same record store that gives Yoongi the freedom to make calls in the back (as long as he pays the owner off. As if that’s difficult at all. The owner is just like all the others, and bows to kiss Yoongi’s feet.)

But Hoseok doesn’t know that. Hoseok is just…Yoongi’s friend. Not his best friend yet but by far the person Yoongi likes the best outside of the pack. The only person who knows him that isn’t pack or family.

Hoseok is perplexed that the others don’t even know where Yoongi works. That he’s never shared it with them and that they don't talk about it. But Hoseok has never been in a pack with a beta- so it’s understandable that he doesn’t know.

It's Taehyung that explains it to him weeks later. "It's not that we don't want to know it's just- hyung likes his privacy and you know- he's a beta."

Beta. It's almost a dirty word. Hoseok doesn't like the way that Taehyung says it. Not when Yoongi makes him feel so clean. Hoseok doesn't have the best first impression of Teahyung in general but if Hoseok was being honest, it's mostly because he's jealous.

Jealousy is hard to admit. Even more when you’re at your lowest.

The day Hoseok meets the rest of the pack is a bad one. Arguably the second worst day of Hoseok's life (the worst day will come a lot later, about 900,000 words from now but you can be patient, can’t you?).

Hoseok doesn’t know what he would have done if Yoongi hadn’t seen him crying on a street corner outside of their workplace. The young alpha looked wrecked- smoking a cigarette with shaking hands and bloodshot eyes. Holding his shoulders oh so carefully. His heart between them aching with fresh wounds. The kind that takes a lifetime to heal.

Yoongi can never leave anyone to wallow- and he gets the story from Hoseok over a warm cup of hot cocoa in the shitty break room. Eyeing the old telephone and begging it not to ring. And the whole time Hoseok feels like he’s drinking down the beta across from him.

Yoongi smells like hot cocoa, warm and comforting. Comfort that he needs desperately right now.

Under Yoongi’s gaze, Hoseok certainly feels like he’s the one being devoured or judged. Like the weighing of the hearts- will Hoseok be able to weigh enough to be loved? Or will Yoongi find him unsatisfactory just like his last pack? Unable to give enough. Undeserving of any and all affection.

It takes Hoseok a long time to come clean about it, to tell Yoongi what his last pack has done to him. It takes even longer for the beta to understand. Years and years of friendship and love.

But the short answer comes sooner. Yoongi asks him why Hoseok’s pack kicked him out later that night when he’s curling up in the pack’s apartment. Because Hoseok didn’t have another place to stay and Yoongi wasn’t the type of friend to let Hoseok sleep in his car when they’ve got a perfectly good couch. It feels a bit too much like how Seokjin came into his life. But Yoongi keeps his parallels to himself.

Yoongi asks why Hoseok’s pack dumped him out of the blue. Yoongi honestly hasn’t seen one red flag in Hoseok, and Yoongi would know because he’s naturally suspicious of people.

Jung Hoseok has always seemed nice enough. They’ve worked together for a few months now. Their banter over records and cd's and old sound systems that honestly weren't worth much is as good as his banter with Jin. His opinions on 90's rap are a little pedestrian sure, but they've both bonded over their mutual love of music quite a bit over the last few months. Enough to be friends.

"In another life, I think I could have been a producer."

"Really? You strike me more as a dancer." Yoongi had rewarded him with a shitty impression of the worm and in turn, Hoseok had rewarded Yoongi with a bright laugh that's almost better than 99% of the music he's ever listened to.

Almost- he still thinks Stick Season is a perfect album.

Hoseok is basically homeless. Functionally homeless. He’d be sleeping in his car tonight if it wasn’t for Yoongi. He’s a deadbeat alpha without a pack to call his own. A lone wolf if ever there was one. This morning, just this morning he’d woken up to the apartment empty. Everything but the bed gone. The walls vacant of pictures and the hallways silent of laughter. The lease expired; the keys handed over. Alone and on his own and without a place to sleep tonight.

But thankfully, not for long. Yoongi had found him crying in the rain outside of the record store, dragged him inside, and that was that.

Yoongi’s pack has been so kind to him. Kinder than he deserves, offering a place to stay after a short phone call. Yoongi’s phone lighting up across that small table in the breakroom with approval and invitation’s that Hoseok is almost too insecure to accept. Almost.

But he does need a place to stay.

Standing in the doorway of the pack’s apartment. He shouts apologies and thank you’s to anyone who will listen while two of Yoongi’s packmates help carry in his boxes and the other three finish clearing a corner of their spare bedroom for him. (Hoseok does deserve it, it's just his stupid and shitty internal monologue that has him convinced otherwise.)

They set him up in his own space down the hall from the pack’s bedroom. Half a reading room with a cot and the other side occupied by an honestly massive pile of clothes. Hoseok doesn’t mind- it smells good in here. Like their fresh-smelling fabric softener but also a little bit like the inside of a sweet shop with how sugary everyone smells.

Not like his scent, his old pack mates had always told him he smelled like sugar burning, caramel, Heavy on the burn.

Hoseok has maybe three plastic bins full of clothes to his name that act as a side table to the single bed. Apparently one of Yoongi’s alphas (the one who smells like cinnamon and pepper) likes to stay up late and read in here instead of keeping his pack mates up with a reading light. Ownership of this space has easily been transferred to Hoseok. They’d made this small space for him. Although the books were taken out regardless of Hoseok's mutable protests not to make a fuss for him. He didn’t need much space.

Hoseok can’t remember the alpha's name or remember if he’d even heard it. They’d called him darling so much that it might just as well have been his name. Jealousy chafes and Hoseok's never been a good enough alpha to receive that kind of affection. He’s never earned that kind of pet name.

It had been a bit of a slap in the face to see the two omegas treat that alpha with such a kind hand, ruffling his head and loosening his tie for him. Being tactile with him in a way that Hoseok had only ever dared to dream about. Now he and Yoongi sit on the edge of the small bed that smells like that alpha; an appropriate distance away on the too-fluffy blanket and Hoseok- Hoseok just feels so touch starved it hurts.

He won’t get casual affection like the other alpha did, least of all from Yoongi. He’s the beta- the desirable one. Maybe in the next life he can be reborn as a beta, so he’ll get that easy affection. It seems only right when he’d been denied it so much in this life. Hoseok has had the hope burned out of him; he doesn’t have much faith in this this- that things could change enough to accommodate what he wants.

Yoongi’s eyes are warm in the half-light, so warm even if the question is so cold.

"Why did they dump you anyway?"

Hoseok’s hands play with the blanket, thick and fluffy. “I don’t think they ever really wanted me, just an alpha.”

“All omega’s?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi sighs.

It’s hard to admit when Hoseok had tried so futilely to earn their love for so many years. But he vomits out the words now, begging Yoongi to understand. “As long as one of them wasn’t in heat they basically just ignored me. They’d make me go on suppressants for my rut so that I didn’t have them, but they were making me sick. When I told them I wanted to go off of them and spend my rut with them- they cut me off- and said no one would want to deal with an alpha who has ruts as bad as mine. That I was asking for too much.” The tremble in Hoseok’s hands is a near thing, covered by Yoongi’s and a reassuring squeeze. “I just wish they’d done it directly instead of leaving a note.”

Yoongi looks nearly breathless. “They didn’t have the balls to tell you to your face?”

“No, and remember, all omega’s.”

Yoongi rolls his tongue against the inside of his teeth, it feels…special, and important. Having someone angry on his behalf. Hoseok hasn’t had anyone angry for him and not at him in a long long time.

“What a bunch of assholes.”

A day ago, Hoseok would have defended them, now, he’s just silent.

Internally, Yoongi snorts and thinks that no one's ruts can be worse than Jimin’s. He still has bruises from the last time- hickeys shaped like a literal heart on his happy trail hidden by his thick sweater. But he has more pressing issues right now as he watches the gentle tears drift down Hoseok’s cheeks. Hoseok’s hands tighten on the coverlet.

“Hyung, was I? Was I asking for too much?”

Hoseok sees Yoongi’s jaw roll again, and the beta goes from smelling like chocolate to smelling like the ocean entirely, the sweetness dimming. Yoongi smells like the ocean at night when he's angry, salt and hidden brine. So at odds with his chocolate scent. So opposite. Beta's always smell a little despondent. Their happy and sad scents never match up. Hoseok’s almost sorry he asked.

“No Hobi. You weren’t asking for too much at all.”

Yoongi pulls Hoseok’s head to rest against his shoulder. Letting him stay there until Hoseok’s tears have dried and his sobs have become little hiccups.

That night Hoseok sees the two omegas kiss each of their pack mates on the forehead. They spend special time with the pack alpha. They linger in the hallway outside of the spare bedroom, door open because it’s not Hoseok’s door to close. Completely aware that he’s there, that he’s watching, and yet the pack alpha does nothing about it.

He- Namjoon- is a happy sandwich between the two omegas’, with a hand on either side of their waists. He smiles good-naturedly at Hobi from the doorway and tells him he can stay as long as he wants too.

Wants too, not needs. Namjoon is very careful with his words. Generous with them.

Hoseok doesn’t understand why they’re treating him so well. Namjoon’s alpha instincts must be screaming at him to not let a stranger get close to his omegas or his pups (he’s heard him, and his omega refer to the three youngest as such- it’s an affectionate title, similar to calling someone ‘baby’).

It would be natural for them to feel uncomfortable with a stranger in their den. But Hoseok never senses any distaste from Namjoon nor from the other two alphas- Taehyung (darling) and Jimin.

Hoseok hardly sleeps that night, tossing and turning, nose itching from all the new scents echoing from down the hall. He gives up sometime after 4 am, quieting the restlessness in his bones in the one way he knows how.

By being useful.

Namjoon usually wakes up first. He has to be at the hospital by 7 am for his shift and waking up early has always been difficult for the alpha. He almost walks into the wall, the thud resonating in their apartment. Blinking dimly when he looks at the spread stretched out before them on the dining room table tucked into the corner of the kitchen. Hoseok smiles and finishes wiping off the counters with a beaming smile.

He hopes it’s enough.

“Good morning! I hope you don’t mind but I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you letting me sleep here- I’m not the best cook but breakfast is my-” Hoseok’s smile fades when he takes in Namjoon’s wide eyes. The alpha blinks away his sleepiness in the doorway. Before rubbing at his eyes like what he’s seeing can’t possibly be real. “Specialty…”

Hoseok is panicked, all but ringing his hands. “Of course you don’t like it- oh my god did I overstep? I’m sorry pack alpha I know this is your den I shouldn’t have been so-”

Stupid . Hoseok had fucked up. Again. He’s barely been here for 18 hours. Must be some sort of record.

Before Namjoon can answer Seokjin stumbles out of the bedroom nearly hip-checking Namjoon. Not expecting the alpha to be just standing there dumbly. He’s pretty tall for an omega. Both of them a bit uncoordinated especially half asleep. Namjoon almost trips, Seokjin catches him. “Don’t bump into any more walls I’ve got you I’ll make coffee in a second just let me-” he blinks too, stopping.

Hoseok has made Omurice and cinnamon toast with sugar. A plate of poached eggs and a bowl of cut bananas and strawberries. Creamy hollandaise sauce too. Pancake batter is in the works, the coffee pot already gurgling. Ready to be pipped out at request. And the dishes, the dishes are already done and on the drying rack. The table set for seven people.

Hoseok even had time to water Tae's plants. a plant collection that will nearly triple in size in the next few years because Namjoon won’t be able to resist giving them to Hobi. A gentle alpha. An alpha like him- that likes to see things grow. There will be bonsai trees and cyclamens and itty-bitty orchids from trader joes. Everything that grows will point to Hoseok. Like a sunflower tilting in the direction of the sun.

“I have a bit of a green thumb. I hope you don’t mind. I noticed your pithos was a bit dry.” Seokjin can’t help but look at Hoseok and think that taking care of things for someone is it’s own special type of flirting.

Dimly, Seokjin remembers last night, quiet questions over dinner, “do you like to cook Hoseok-shii?”

“Not really, I’m really good at making breakfast foods but everything else is sort of out of my depth omega-shii. If you want, I can do the dishes?”

“Please, call me Hyung, everyone else does, and the dishes can wait for the morning. You’ve had a tough day, you deserve some rest.”

The two of them blink and blink at Hoseok stunned that the alpha has made them a full breakfast. And did it so quietly. None of them are heavy sleepers (besides Yoongi and Jungkook) Namjoon doesn’t know how he didn’t hear anything.

The alpha is quiet, stealthy almost. And Jin’s heart hurts when he thinks of why that might be. Even now, the alpha struggles to meet Jin’s eyes. He doesn’t have the same problem with meeting Namjoon’s.

Seokjin all but pushed the pack alpha in his direction.

A few minutes later Hoseok tries to hide his shy smile as Namjoon and Seokjin both let out simply pornographic moans at the taste of Hoseok’s food. Sitting on either side of him, Namjoon piles his plate high with food. “I'm only really good with breakfast food, I can’t make anything else.” But neither of them seems to hear him. Seokjin pouts down at Hoseok, a little bit of runny egg yellowing the corner of his mouth. Narrowing his eyes.

“Can we keep you?”

Namjoon's words are muffled by the 6th pancake of the morning, hunched over his plate. "phfuck off he's phmine."

Hoseok falls into their pack easily. It's not all romantic at first.

He walks with Tae home and helps Jimin with the laundry. He cooks breakfast and wears Seokjin’s apron and helps do the dishes. He likes being helpful. He goes on runs with Jungkook every morning to keep an eye on him- in case he has an episode while he’s running. He’s the only one who can really keep up with the youngest. He’s the one who has the idea of getting Jungkook a smartwatch to track his heart rate and therefore his seizures. All of them connect their phones to the app and check-in. Especially when they don’t want to bug Jungkook but still want to make sure their precious youngest omega is okay.

Even if Hoseok is wary of omegas in general given his history; he’d never let the younger suffer through it alone.

Yoongi’s only known Hoseok for a couple of months and still- He’s the jumpiest alpha that Yoongi’s ever met. He puts Jimin to shame (Jimin’s job keeps him so on edge, the tenseness that he only loosens when he comes home). Flinching especially around Seokjin and Jungkook. But every inch of him goes calm when Yoongi is in the room.

Yoongi had noticed the same thing in the record store.

The Flinching, the tentativeness, the fear that lurks underneath Hoseok’s skin. That only points to one thing. Hoseok checks his phone obsessively the first few weeks but then less as time goes on and Yoongi thinks good.

Good, they didn’t deserve you.

Hoseok never brings up any physical abuse that he might have suffered at the hands of his old packmates. Hoseok won't even say their names, still too trauma-ridden that all he can say is ‘this one’ or ‘that one’ or ‘the pack omega’ when Yoongi asks him about his old pack. Usually on their late-night drives when their hands tangle over the center console and Hoseok feels safe enough to talk about them.

He'll feel safe enough to talk about them with the others too eventually, but it takes baby steps to incorporate him into the pack. He still can't even say their names and after the first few months as they fade from relevancy, Yoongi doesn’t ask.

All in all, that’s probably a good thing, Yoongi had half a mind to track them down and orchestrate some sort of accident for them otherwise. But if you could manage to hurt a person like Hoseok, as sunshiny and as genuinely good as he is, they must be twice the monsters that Yoongi is. It’s probably for the best that Hoseok never mentions them by name.

Names have weight.

At work, The record store owner’s beady eyes flicker from Yoongi to Hoseok. He notices when they start to come and go from the shop together. And he starts to sync their shifts. Anything to keep someone from the Min family happy. Maybe Yoongi would carry that good opinion back to his grandfather and lead to better business. Yoongi knows the owners motives and as much as he hates to admit it- It’s nice to lean into Hoseok on their walk to the subway, to sit close and share a pair of earbuds while they scroll through some YouTube videos.

He and Hoseok have a lot of the same interests. But as time goes on- Yoongi starts to get a little worried about Hoseok’s proximity to Yoongi’s job- the one he doesn’t talk about with anyone in his pack. Hoseok just assumes he does acquisitions and inventory for the store owner, which is why he’s constantly ducking into the backroom whenever the old phone rings.

It was the same way at the coffee shop, but Hoseok and Seokjin never knew to compare notes.

Sometimes the family needs more from him than a simple phone call, and Hoseok is too close to it now. It’s easy to lie even if Yoongi hates lying to his packmates. He tells Seokjin that he has to work and tells Hoseok that he doesn’t. And it’s easy to slip away.

Usually, Yoongi finds himself at a hotel or to a different part of the city, far away from his packmates. Yoongi hates meeting in person but sometimes it can’t be avoided. Often times the rooms he enters are too fine and expensive for his tastes. Chandeliers dripping with diamonds and fine velvet interiors at odds with his ripped jeans and old band t-shirts that make him feel wholly out of place.

Yoongi’s conducted these meetings in so many places, in the back of limousines, the back rooms of bars and clubs, a pool on top of the city's most expensive apartment complex, and even once an underground bunker. Anywhere and everywhere. It helps that most people are willing to travel for him- since Yoongi is firm on his decision to not leave his city.

The secretaries at this hotel eye his appearance like he’s nothing but street trash. Which, granted, he is. But he’s beta street trash and that makes all the difference.

“The reservation should be under Min.”

That gives them a start usually, a subtle widening of eyes, hands fumbling for the phone to call the hotel director.

“I take it they’re already expecting me?”

On the days that Yoongi actually tends to his day job, he does a good job keeping an eye on the record store owner. If only because Hoseok has such a proximity to him. Yoongi’s noticed whenever the owner comes into work a lot more people frequent the store. And he’s seen him slip small bags of white powder into the sleeves of records before. But Yoongi knows how to keep quiet about that sort of thing. And Hoseok has so much on his plate that he never notices.

The rest of his pack doesn’t mind stepping around Hoseok when it’s clear he’s having a bad day. They come less frequently as time goes on and soon, he feels just as comfortable curling up with the omegas as he does with the alphas. But the adjustment is slow, he meets Jin’s eyes only sometimes. Sidesteps Jungkook’s teasing. Bows under the weight of Namjoon’s hand on his shoulder.

The adjustment is slow but noticeable. He play wrestles with Jimin, with Taehyung. Ducks his head under Jin’s fussing but doesn’t out right reject it. He takes the packed lunch and a sleepy scent mark without gnashing his teeth and growling. Far from it- he blushes.

But the first time they invite him into their nest Hoseok looks like they’ve just doused him with a bucket of icy water.

“I’ve never been in a nest before, at least not outside of a heat." Jungkook flinches, and Jin hisses. Hoseok pales before Jin’s had the chance to realize his mistake. But still, the border gets pushed back. And Hoseok waits. Taking one step closer than anther before he gently puts a knee on the border.

It hurts them that he sits in it- rim rod straight. Worried that he’s going to be booted out of it for messing up the edge or accidently spreading his scent in it. But Seokjin and Jungkook just surround him with their favorite nest-making items and sit chest-to-chest with him. Hoseok shivers with every easily given touch. Through his hair, over his shoulders, on his scent glands round and pudgy at his neck. Jungkook kisses into his mouth soft and sweet.

“Love it when our nest smells like you Hoseokie.”

It takes them a while- but eventually, he opens up to the others about his old pack. How poorly they treated him. He names specifics that have Jin hiding his mouth, that have Namjoon’s hands tightening on the back of the chairs. That make Jimin grit his teeth and growl. That have Tae folding his book and tossing it to the side in favor of pulling him in.

To them, he’d been an add-on- nothing special. The only alpha in a group of four female omegas.

Comparatively, their pack feels more balanced now with two alphas for each omega. When Jungkook and Seokjin’s heats eventually come he’s very happy to take the lowest spot in their hierarchy even though he’s the oldest alpha. He doesn’t know how to be a good alpha he says (though he’s never done anything wrong) Namjoon needs to show him.

But it’s just reassurance that Hoseok needs and that’s easily given. Hoseok is so honestly happy to please.

He’s everything to them- the most special and desired person in their beds and in their lives. Jung Hoseok is the one to wake them up with coffee in the morning, and also the one who tries to say every night, “you don’t have to do this, really guys I’m good.” Even when they know having his back rubbed is his favorite way to fall asleep. They pet his hair until the touch-starved shivers subside into happy grumbles, the alpha version of an omega purr. They love how shivery and cutely hazy he gets when they shower him in affection.

Things are good, for a while- they're so so so good. Things get so good that Hoseok almost forgets.

Almost.

~-~

(Yoongi, 124 days before).

But someone always leaves, someone has to go first- it’s just the way things are.

They just never expected it to be Yoongi.

It happens when Yoongi least expects it, after a group date with the seven of them. It's probably the last truly warm day of the summer, warm enough that it has them all escaping on a Sunday to go to the ocean again- Hoseok's favorite place. The sand sticks to Yoongi's bare feet. His ankles are cold. Fall is just on the horizon. Not far now.

Yoongi's phone rings and he walks away from their big picnic blanket to take the call. Jimin’s laugh rings in his ears, almost drowning out the sound of the ocean and the person on the other side of the phone.

Hearing fluent unaccented Korean is so jarring through the speaker that Yoongi almost misses it. He's so used to Jimin's slight drawl, Seokjin's crisp syllables, the way that Taehyung sounds as he flips from English to Korean and back again words and grammar all tangled.

He'd forgotten what his family sounds like when they talk.

“Harabeoji is dead.”

Yoongi's blood goes cold, and his hands start to shake. They don’t say anything else before they hang up, but they don’t need to. The message is clear. Yoongi is well trained. Yoongi is a good pup, a good beta. He knows to come when called.

“What is it Yoongi? Is everything alright?”

Yoongi schools his face into a neutral expression while his pulse roars in his ears as he turns around. “I’m perfectly fine Jinnie. Nothing is wrong.” He lies effortlessly. The words couldn’t be further from the truth.

(Sometimes, people leave not because they want to- but because they have to).

~-~

(Read the first Version of this story Here)

Notes:

- Honestly this is another chapter where the title??? Why am I even bothering with chapter titles??? I mean I love them but half of them are! Not right and I don’t know how to fix it (yet) I feel like this chapter being the bumblebee chapter is too on the nose. (edit, I did actually go back and change this just a few days later.)

- Reading this I’m reminded that everything is up to interpretation. And I think because we see this scene again a lot later in this story. this is what happened from Yoongi’s perspective and later- that’s from Hobi's pov you know?.Just trust me if you look at them next to each other it makes sense that this one you’re seeing right now is a biased view.

- Some of Hoseok’s chapter feels a little bit fanfictiony, but I don’t hate it, like I think that I’m trying to hit somewhere in the middle of a published book and a fanfic, it doesn’t need to be one or the other right now.

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