#this is me every single second that I'm awake
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kanasbinwriting · 2 days ago
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Hello! Could you possibly write a Sol x gn reader where the reader calls Sol and tells him to come inside and cuddle with them because they've been tired mentally and emotionally and just want to be held? And that they actually know that he's been sneaking in their apartment but they don't really care and actually they find it a little cute
Also I'm sorry if this sounds awkward, I don't know how to words things properly 😅
SOL X READER
Thank you so much for your request ^^ I really enjoyed writing this!! I hope I did an okay job
Fun fact, I'm actually working on making a Sol figure out of clay 💪
Anyway, enjoy!!
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It was dark outside; nothing could be heard but the wind rustling through the leaves and the occasional hum of cars driving by. You felt tired, but no matter how hard you tried to fall asleep, nothing worked—the stress consuming you whole.
You sat up on your bed, trying some breathing exercises you saw online to calm your racing mind, but to no success. Your mind was occupied with all sorts of things that caused you a great immense of stress and you couldn't help but feel emotionally drained as a result. Oh, to have someone hold you close right now. You let out a small whine as you rubbed your eyes. You glanced over at your phone charging on the bedside table, thinking to yourself. Sol, wouldn't mind if you called him, right? You picked up your phone and checked the time. Sol should be on his way right now. But waiting for him would be a bit awkward, you doubted that he'd even go near your window if he saw that you were still awake. You looked to your bedside table once more, where a glass of orange juice stood untouched, waiting for you to take a sip. You could just drink it and let the sleeping pills do their work, or at least that's what you think that he'd put in your drink to ensure you'd be sound asleep around the time he arrived for his nightly visits.
With a deep sigh, you decided to not drug yourself tonight. Maybe you could just give him a call. It wouldn't come off as weird, right? In all defence, he was the one breaking into your apartment every night. If anyone was weird then it was definitely him and not you for calling him at this ungodly hour. You tapped on his contact and raised your phone to your ear, calling him. No answer. Was he asleep? No way. He wouldn't be. You looked at your phone in disbelief and tried it again after a few seconds. You stood up from your bed and made your way toward the window when he finally picked up.
"H-Hello..?" He greeted you in a hushed tone.
You let out a chuckle.
"Are you serious?" You asked playfully.
"Huh?" Sol replied in complete confusion. "What do you mean...?" his tone shifted nervously, but before he could question further, you cut him off with a smug grin.
"Look up." Now looking down at him from your open window.
He froze and went completely silent, not daring to move a single muscle.
"W-what—"
You hung up and leaned further out the window.
"Why, hello there!" You called, winking unbeknownst to him.
He slowly raised his head to look at you and the look on his face was priceless. You gave him a knowing smile, waiting for him to say something. "I can explain...!" He stammered, raising his hands in defence.
"Can you now?" You settled your chin in your hand, your elbow propped up on your windowsill.
"I-I was... just going for a walk" You looked at him with a bored expression on your face
"Oh, really?"
"Yes." He nodded trying to look confident. He might've convinced you if it weren't for his all-black outfit and mask. With a sigh, you decided to end the senseless interrogation.
"Just come inside."
"What...?!" He exclaimed loudly in bewilderment.
"You... want me to come inside?"
"That's what I said, yes."
You walked away from your window and sat on your bed. It took Sol a few seconds to process what had just happened. He pinched his cheek to confirm he wasn't dreaming. Upon realising that it was, in fact, real, he quickly but carefully climbed to your apartment. As he slipped in through your window, making sure to close the window, he now stood before you, his face flushed crimson red. You let out a yawn and made yourself comfortable on your bed to which his breath slightly stutters."Can we cuddle?"
"What...?" he stammered, looking taken aback. "I said, can we cuddle?" You repeated, motioning for him to join you. He hesitated for a moment before muttering a quiet "Fuck it..." before walking toward you. He awkwardly tried to make himself comfortable next to you, keeping his arms close to himself, too nervous to touch you. His whole body tensed when you, without warning, wrapped your arms around him snuggling your head against his neck. Inhaling his scent, you let out a contented sigh. He lets you wrap your limbs around him, sensing that there's something wrong. He began to ease up in your embrace, wrapping his arms around you and began to gently stroke your head.
"Thank you..." You whispered quietly against his neck and he felt a shudder run down his spine. "No problem..." He whispered back, as a lovesick expression appeared on his face. Not paying him any mind you closed your eyes and slowly began to drift off to sleep in his his embrace.
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ereborne · 8 months ago
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Song of the Day: March 18
"Break Down Here" by Julie Roberts
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derinthescarletpescatarian · 3 months ago
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wait, Derin how did your leaving make the hospital shut down?
I used to work as a live-in nanny for a pediatrician.
Now, the thing about hospitals in my country is that they are massively understaffed and massively underfunded. This is especially true outside the major cities. The staff are worked to the bone and receive little to no help in things like finding accommodation or childcare, making working in rural areas a very uninviting prospect; staff come out here, get lumped with the work of three people (because there's nobody else to do it), burn out under the workload and leave, meaning that those remaining have even more work because that person is gone. It's unsustainable and the medical staff are doing their best to sustain it, because people die if they don't, so to the higher-ups it looks like everything's getting done and therefore everything is fine.
My friend (and boss) worked one week on, one week off, swapping out with another pediatrician. This was necessary because it would not be physically possible for one person to handle the workload for longer periods of time. The one single pediatrician had to hold up the entire pediatrics ward, which was not only the only public hospital pediatrics ward in our town, but also the one that served all the towns around us for a few hours' drive in all directions. I regularly saw her go to work sick, aching, tired, or with a debilitating 'I can barely make words or see' level migraine, because if she took a day off, twenty children didn't get healthcare that day, and some of these kids' appointments were scheduled weeks in advance. She'd work long hours in the day and then be called in a couple of times overnight for an hour or two at a time (she was on-call at night too, because somebody had to be), and then go in the next day. Sometimes she would be forced to take a day off because she physically could not stay awake for longer than a few minutes at a time, meaning she couldn't drive to work.
Cue my niece's second birthday coming up in Melbourne. I'd been working for her for about 3 years, and she (and the hospital) had plenty of advance warning that I (and therefore she) needed one (1) Friday off. That's fine, we'll find someone to work that Friday, the hospital said. Right up until the last week where they're like "oh, we can't find a replacement; you can come in, can't you?"
No, she tells them; I don't have anyone to watch my kid that day.
Oh, surely you can hire a babysitter for this one day, they say. Think of the children! We really really need you to work that day. I know we said it'd be fine but we need you now, there's no one else to do it.
There are no other babysitters, she told them. Unless you can find one?
That's not our responsibility, they said.
But I'm not changing my plans, she's got plans by now as well, the hospital knew about this one day weeks in advance, and with absolutely no reserve staff they're forced to reschedule all pediatrics appointments for that Friday. Not a huge deal, it happens on the 'physically too overworked to get out of bed' days too. I go to Melbourne, she goes back to her home in Adelaide for her recovery week, all should be on track.
My niece gives me Covid.
This was way back in the first wave of the pandemic, and there were no Covid vaccines yet. The rules were isolate, mask up, hope. I had Covid in the house, and it would've been madness for my friend and her toddler to come back into the Covid house instead of staying in Adelaide. There was absolutely no way that a pediatrician could live with someone in quarantine due to Covid and go to work in the hospital with sick children every day. And no support existed for finding another babysitter, or temporary accommodation, so the hospital was down a pediatrician.
The other pediatrician wasn't available to do a three-week stint. They were also trapped in Adelaide on their well-earned week off.
Meaning that the only major pediatrics ward within a several-hour radius had no pediatricians. They had to shut down and send all urgent cases to Adelaide for the week. To the complete absence of surprise of any of the doctors or nurses; of course this would happen, this was bound to happen, it presumably keeps happening. But probably to the surprise of the higher-ups. After all, the hospital was doing fine, right? Of course all the staff were complaining of overwork and a lack of resources in every meeting, but they could always be fobbed off with the promise of more help sometime in the future; the work was mostly getting done, so the issue couldn't be too urgent.
It's not like some nanny who doesn't even work for the hospital could go out of town for a weekend for the first time in three years, and get the only public pediatrics ward in the area shut down for a week.
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magicalyazsparkles · 1 year ago
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I wish I could touch my friends
Cuddle close, idly play with their hair, feel down their neck and arms, fidget with their fingers, etc
But I'm just so Aware of touching. I'm so sensitive and conscious of where they are in relation to me. There's only one person that my brain allows itself to switch off and just touch, and even then it immediately snaps back to reality when he tries to touch me.
My body rejects everything beyond a quick hug and that makes me so sad and frustrated
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therevengeoffrankenstein · 1 year ago
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honest to g-d think i could handle any type of pain at this point because of how severely my belly is constantly hurting me.
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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months ago
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Sanemi losing what is left of his patience when you get injured by a demon
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Pairing: Sanemi x wife!reader
Word Count: 3k
Synopsis: Despite the fact that your husband is the opposite of your quiet and kind self, you love him dearly while Sanemi treasures you in a purely unique way. But even though you learned to love his rough side the way it is, you can't stop tears from falling when your husband loses it after you get injured by a demon
Warning: this is THE angst to fluff y'all, Sanemi is a rough but soft boi I'm so weak for him in this fic omgomgomg, been listeing to again by noah cyrus and lana del rey while writing this, injury + angst + near death experience
this might be my favorite sanemi fic coming from my own hands so PLEASE if you feel the same, I'm super thankful for a lil like, comment or even reblog. THANK YOU SO MUCH 🤍
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Oh, it was never easy, being the wife to none other than the wind hashira. When you’re quiet he’s noisy, when you’re put together he’s all over the place, while you act loving and kind Sanemi shows his devilish side.
But there was not once a day that made you second-guess your decision, not a single moment that made you feel something apart from deep affection for that man. It doesn’t matter that you are the opposite of him in each and every sense. He’s yours. And you’ll forever be his.
“Sanemi!”
Your oh so sweet voice echoes like a well-composed melody through his ears, makes him forget the wave of anger that washed over him earlier. Just seeing you standing there in the yukata he gifted you years ago while holding a dish with ohagi in your hands allows him to forget all the shit that happened for a brief second.
“Didn’t I tell you that you aren’t allowed to overwork yourself?”, he grumbles before sitting down opposite of you.
You look as good as always with your hair well-brushed and kind eyes lit by the down-going sun. What would his life look like if it didn’t contain of coming home to you? You, his only ray of sunshine. You, the only one who’s able to calm his temper down. Just you, his beloved wife. Who would have thought that out of all hashira, he’d be the one who treasures his wife the most?
“It’s not me who is overworked, but you. Did you get bruised again?”, you question with your melodic voice.
“Nah, I’m fine.”
“Will you stay home tonight?”
“I definitely hope so. If that crow disturbs my sleep again…”
“You have an important roll to fulfil, as a hashira-“
“’It’s my honor to bring peace to those who aren’t able to look out for themselves.’ Yeah, I already know.”
In contrary to his harsh tone, his fingertips caress your cheek gently while his eyes soften in an instant. It was hard, learning how to read him. When you first met, it was not uncommon that you broke out in tears after he talked to you like that. But now, after 4 years of getting to know him, you never lose your kind smile.
“How was your day?”, he continues.
With a swift motion, he pulls you between his legs and presses your head against his bare chest while his strong arms keep you in place. This are the moments that make your life worth living. Just you and your husband, arm in arm, watching the sunset in nothing but peace and silence.
“I enjoyed the nice weather while taking care of the garden. The tulips look exceptionally beautiful this season.”
“They’ll never be as beautiful as you, though”, he replies with low voice.
If life could stay like that. Oh, what you’d give to never let go of him again…
-later that night-
“Wind pillar, wind pillar! An emergency occurred! Countless demons were spotted nearby! The demon slayer corps need your assistance-“
“Can you just shut the fuck up”, Sanemi mumbles while pulling you closer sleep-drunken.
Immediately, you are wide awake. Nearby demons?
“Sanemi, you need to get up. What if someone gets injured?”, you whisper into the dark night.
“So what?”
You stare at him through the veil of darkness, not daring to say another word. He will get up eventually. He always does.
“Urgh, fine…Time to kill some demons, then”, he finally grumbles and drags himself away from you in order to put on his uniform.
“You stay here until I get back. Even if our estate is build pretty safe and I’ll rip off the heads of the demons around first, I don’t want you to be out there on your own. Got it?”, he instructs you before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead like he always does.
“I will. Please be careful and watch out for yourself”, you whimper.
It’s a challenge to let go of him each and every night he is forced to leave. He might be a hashira, but what if he doesn’t return by sunrise some day? What if he meets an upper-ranked demon unexpectedly? Just when he’s about to leave, you grab his hand one last time.
“And don’t act reckless”, you add.
No matter how much it hurts to let go of his hand, you know you have no other choice. This is the life you chose, the price you have to pay in order to call that wonderful man your beloved husband.
“I can never promise you that”, he replies before leaving you alone in the now cold and awkwardly dark room.
Everything will turn out alright. It just has to…
You don’t know how long you’ve been awake already. Minutes? Hours? All you’re able to do is stare at the ceiling above, ears perking up with every minor movement of the trees outside. Surely, Sanemi will return soon. Being the skilled fighter he is, it normally takes him at most two hours until he returns with his sheets still a little warm. But aren’t those two hours over already?
Another noise outside catches your attention. Is it a tree again? You furrow your eyebrows, immediately sitting up straight while staring outside the window. No, this almost sounds like the whimpers of a child. A child outside at this hour?
You swallow hard. A child outside when there are demons reported around this area?
“P-please, someone help me! I-I’m so s-scared!”
Your heart drops to the floor. There is no doubt in the fact that this has to be a child. Your mind starts racing back and forth. It would be absolutely unacceptable to leave that poor soul out on its own, especially when you can’t know if the area is really free of demons. But on the other hand…You bite your lip when your husband’s words replay themselves in your head.
“No matter what happens when I’m gone. Don’t. Go. Out. On. Your. Own. At. Night. Need me to spell it, (y/n)? Never ever, not in a million years. Got it?”
Not under any circumstances. Your husband made that very clear countless times. But does that include a helpless child outside your estate in the middle of the night? You aren’t a fighter like Sanemi is, even refused to keep an emergency katana in the house just in case. There is no way you could harm a single soul, not even a demon. Leaving a child outside in the middle of the night…isn’t that just as unforgivable?
Sanemi said that he’ll take care of the demons around first. That means you’re safe, right? But even if that poor child doesn’t face danger in the form of a demon, it will certainly freeze with that cold breeze rushing over the land these days.
“P-please, is someone there? I’m s-so tired and s-so cold…I…I can’t walk anymore…”
Your heart aches with every word. No matter how much value the promise you made towards your husband holds in your heart, you simply can’t stand the thought of ignoring an innocent little child that needs your help.
“Why are you out there all on your own, where are your parents?”, you shout into the darkness of your home while making your way to the door.
Is it really okay, breaking the promise you’ve made like that? You grab the handle of the door tightly. This might be the only time you’re actually useful. Without any skills apart from cooking, you can only watch from the side-lines how the demon slayer corps save the world. Maybe this is your chance to do a little something as well, your chance to actually be helpful.
You swing your door open while holding your breath.
“Where are you? Let’s get you inside and grab a warm tea, okay? You must be freezing”, you speak out gently, eyes scanning the garden for the little figure.
“I’m right here!”, the innocent voice cries out to your right.
Instantly, you pick up your pace and sprint towards the tiny figure lying in the grass. Oh no, you can’t imagine what this little child has been through, how it even got here. Did it get lost in the woods and failed to return before the night came? You’ll have to prepare a guestroom right away, just after inviting this little one in-
“Foolish woman.”
Time stands still, your glossy orbs starts to tremble when the tiny figure in front of you starts to build itself up, grows taller and taller until it surpasses your own height by multiple inches. This…this isn’t a child.
Your eyes widen in sheer horror, blood rushing through your ears so violently that you feel like fainting any given minute after it strucks you like lighting.
You were tricked by a demon. After Sanemi warned you over and over, you fell for the lousy trick of a demon. Out of instinct you start stumbling backwards, glossy eyes darted towards the horrific creature with bright red eyes and fangs bigger than your own head.
“I waited patiently until that demon slayer was gone. A young and beautiful woman like you sure tastes nice. Now that I’m seeing you fully, you were definitely worth the wait. I’m sure your flesh tastes excellent.”
Your blood freezes in your veins. Is this really how your life will come to an end? Because you didn’t listen to your husband, because you wanted to be somehow useful? How will Sanemi react, finding out that you were killed? Suddenly your legs threaten to give in and force you to come to a stand. It’s not like you’d be able to defend yourself in any kind of way when all you ever did was taking care of Sanemi and your imaginary perfect life.
A perfect life, ruined by one night of carelessness.
His face flashes in front of your inner eyes, the kind smile he always wore when he didn’t know you were watching. Despite the flaws others see in him, his hot temper and the way he treats his little brother, you are head over heels for him. Your husband, your everything, your Sanemi. A perfect little marriage, ruined by you.
“Don’t”, you hush into the night like the fool you’re are.
“How much I love hearing you little women beg not to get killed. Music in my ears!”
He dashes towards, ready to slice your throat open single-handed. Out of instinct, you let yourself fall backwards into the wet grass, watching how his claws brush over your forehead with enough force to discolour your vision red.
“Nice moves. You seem really healthy. That’s actually even better”, the demon purrs.
This is it. Your final moment on this earth, killed through the hands of a demon in your own well-groomed garden. You never imagined it all to go down like this, not when you’re still so young and full of love.
You didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye, to tell Sanemi one final time how much you adore him and that you’ll love him through everything. Will he be okay? The man who lost almost everything, who has to live with a burden heavier than earth itself balanced on his strong shoulders. This…this will break him even more.
“Any last words?”, the demon jeers at you.
Your breath gets stuck in your throat. No, there is nothing this creature deserves to hear from you, not even a single scream will escape your lips. You rest your lids, picture his oh so gorgeous face in front of your inner eye. If you only had more time, if you only listened. Your beloved marriage, vanishing in thin air.
“I’m sorry Sanemi. I’m so so sorry…”
When will it be over?
“Touch her and you’ll die.”
What...No, this is impossible, you have to be dreaming-
“Or nah, you’ll die anyway.”
 The urge to open your eyes again becomes unbearable.
Your heart skips a beat. Instead of getting greeted by the claws of the demon, you’re able to read it very clearly.
“Destroy.”
This back, so familiar broad…
“Sanemi?”
“Didn’t I tell you to stay inside the house?”, he barks over his shoulder.
It happens faster than your eyes are able to follow. One high jump, one slash of his sword and the demon’s head falls onto the soft grass in front of you. Immediately, you are surrounded by dust rising towards the moon.
“What were you even thinking?”
Before you’re even able to feel relieved your husband storms towards you, not a single spark of affection gleaming in his furious eyes.
“You promised over and over”, he screams on top of his lungs.
“I’m-“
“And you fucking lied into my face!”
Roughly, he grabs your Yukata with both hands and yanks your throbbing figure towards him.
“I’m so-“
“Is all of this a joke to you? Don’t you trust your husband enough to do as you’re told!? You’ve had this one job, that one fucking job to stay inside the house!”
“Sanemi, I-“
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? Did you really want to die right here?”
“Sanemi…”
You breathe his name into the night with strangled voice, tears now streaming down your face like a waterfall. You made a reckless mistake, but none of this happened because you wanted to hurt him. His words, his furious gaze, his hardened eyes so venomous that you have to look away dig themselves like knives into your already fragile heart and simply take your breath away. Out of all feelings, your husband is livid at you.
“I…I’m sorry”, you finally press out.
“You could have died, (y/n). You know that?”
He pulls you towards himself even harder, his hands fisting the fabric of your yukata so tightly that you fear he might rip it.
“You could have died and I couldn’t have done a single fucking thing. Losing you…Fuck!”
He yanks your chin upwards with one hand, forces you to look at him through your wet lashes. But you aren’t greeted by his stone-cold glare. No, are those…tears shimmering in his orbs? What’s left of your heart breaks in an instant.
“I can’t lose you. Not you, not the love of my life. Not another loved one. I couldn’t fucking stand this shitty world without you by my side. How many times did I tell you to stay inside the house when I’m gone at night?”, he screams at you.
“I-I’m sorry”, you hush through shaky lips.
“You’re my everything. Fuck, I love you so much…Losing you like that…”
The next second you find yourself devoured in his strong arms, holding you pressed against his chest so tightly that you can feel his heart pounding.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again, (y/n). Never”, he mutters into your hair while caressing your bloody hair.
“I’m sorry”, you mumble again.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding, goddamn. Let’s get you inside, this needs to get stitched up.”
You don’t dare to contradict, allowing him to carry you back into safety with your arms cramped around his neck.
You’re safe. Sanemi is absolutely furious with you, but the worry in his eyes, the gleam…You bury your head inside his uniform, desperately trying to escape your own foolishness. None of this would have happened if you just stayed inside like he told you. If you were smart enough…
“How did he get you outside?”, Sanemi finally breaks the silence while cleaning your wound.
“He played a scared and lost child”, you mumble.
“Huh, what I thought. You’d never break a promise over nothing”, Sanemi replies, his voice a little softer than before.
“I know you tried to help, but never to shit like that again. When I saw you lying there and your blood on the grass, I almost died. You’re my everything, my wife. I can’t lose you because of a demon, you hear me? I was so damn worried about you…”
“I just wanted to do something…useful…”
“Useful? Are you too dumb to see how useful you are?”, he bites back.
Sanemi stops barking at you immediately after seeing how glossy your eyes turn all over again. No matter how fucking mad he is right now, he can’t hurt you any further. It’s clear you acted out of the right motives, he shouldn’t scream at you like that. Especially since you almost died tonight. Not his wife, not when you’re everything he has.
“I treasure you more than everything else in this world. You’re the reason I’m still believing there’s something good left here. Don’t you dare to risk your important life like that again, got it?”, he gently continues before caressing your cheek the way you love so much.
“I never wanted to cause you this much trouble. I…I was acting dumb…”, you mutter, intertwining your fingers with his.
“We’re all a little dumb from time to time, yeah? Let’s go back to sleep, that was more than enough for one night.”
You don’t hesitate when he pulls you along into the oh so inviting sheets. With him by your side, they definitely feel way more inviting. With him by your side, you don’t have to fear a single nightmare haunting you down this frightful night.
“At least I’m having an excuse now for a day off tomorrow. I love you, (y/n). So so much”, Sanemi mumbles into your hair, holding you so comforting against his chest that sleep washes over you almost immediately.
“I love you too, Sanemi…”
There is no doubt in the fact that Sanemi held you even closer each and every night after almost losing you through the hands of a demon.
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp
@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @skeleton-the-gangser (reader isn't pregnant in that one, but the vibe is the same as with the Yoriichi fic you enjoyed)
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giamee · 6 months ago
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𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐄!
... aka fictional boyfriends as things my pet cat does lmfao
༊*·˚ featuring ➻ my genshin, hsr & jjk faves
༊*·˚ gia's notes ➻ switching up the layout bc i can teehee... also this one is kinda slop cos its just every character on my masterlist oop. N E WAYS i found out that im allergic to my cat but love is pain and i am a masochist so here we are
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ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DOESN'T RESPOND UNLESS YOU CALL HIM BY HIS NICKNAME.
he's leaning against your kitchen counter, fingers tapping against it as he's poised so deliberately to give off the impression that everything he's doing is so absent-minded. the way he's scrolling through his feed so aimlessly, just tuned out from the world, including you and your futile attempts at getting his attention.
you call his name, tug at his sleeve, and you don't miss the mischievous smirk on his lips as he glances up at you.
"i don't know who that is, sorry, i hope you find him though."
it's infuriating, sometimes, when he lets his more playful side out. but you know him well, and you play along, not being able to help the smile that fights to stay on your lips.
"well then, my beloved, could you help me look for him?"
and there's an instant change from him, back straightening as he stops leaning against your counter, arms open wide to receive you, a beam on his face.
"gladly, my love."
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ kaveh, welt, dan heng, luocha, GETO
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GETS EXTRA AFFECTIONATE AND CUDDLY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.
no matter as to whether you had gone to bed with him or before, you're woken up prematurely in the middle of the night at the sensation of your body being moved, ever so gently, across the sheets, closer towards a warm body that nestles itself solidly behind you.
you're barely awake, but you smile to yourself at the newfound comfort, having drifted away as you slept, and now happily reunited.
"i missed you," he breathes against your ear, turning his head to dip down and press kisses to your cheek. you smile, nose scrunching at the ends of his hair that tickle your skin, but welcome it nonetheless.
his arm slips around you, keeping you safely anchored to him, and he lets out a contented hum that almost sounds like he's purring, chest solid against your back.
"you're acting like you've come back from war," you murmur, and he can hear the way you tease even in your half asleep state.
"every second away from you is agony, my love."
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ DILUC, alhaitham, JING YUAN, choso, NANAMI
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 RANDOMLY BITES AND HEADBUTTS YOU.
sure, there's doing something unexpected to grab your attention, but it catches you off guard every. single. time.
he has seemingly no regard for whatever it is that you're doing- you're cooking something? he sneaks up behind you, teeth sinking into your shoulder before he slinks away like it never happened.
trying to get work done? he comes up to you, using his head to poke you and offering no explanation as he walks away.
it's ... endearing, to say the least. it comes from a place of love, that's for sure. make no mistake that you like to bite him too, but he still manages to one-up you each time.
while it started off as surprising in the early days of your relationship, over time you've adapted to it, now even offering a body part for him to headbutt as a greeting.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ cyno, WRIOTHESLEY, neuvillette, BLADE, toji, HIGURUMA
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 FOLLOWS YOU AROUND AND WHINES IF YOU DON'T GIVE HIM ENOUGH ATTENTION.
"babyyyy, i'm bored."
you don't have to turn around to know that he's pouting, some grown ass man acting like a toddler in hopes that you'd pay attention to him. you can't help but roll your eyes, what with him pushing the limit between cute and aggravating for the past half an hour or so.
ever since you had invited him over and he practically let himself in, he had basically followed you from room to room, huffing and puffing as you focused on your work instead of entertaining him.
and as you finally settled in your room, at your desk, you watched out of the corner of your eye as he flopped down onto your bed, his head dangling off the edge as he scrolled through his phone half-heartedly.
and you had to admit, he looked cute like that. you bite back your smile as you see him glance up at you to see if you're looking at him before flopping back down on the bed with a huff.
you'll be done soon, then you'll give him all the attention he wants.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ CHILDE, thoma, sampo, gepard, GOJO
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IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... enjoy the silence!
an introduction to your new roommate dan heng, and the guitar that he loves to play so much
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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 7 months ago
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Let our lips lock, baby - K.MG
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💋Who; Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x female reader 💋What; Friends to lovers smut. Fluff. They are in LOVE okay. Birthday boy Gyu <3 💋Wordcount; 9.8k 💋Warnings; Profanity. Pet names from them both(baby/sweetheart). A single solitary thigh spank. Oral(female receiving). Gyu gets a little posessive over reader for a second but it's more amusing than anything. I don't think there's actually anything specific that needs to be mentioned? But do let me know. They're on very equal grounds throughout this entire story and I love that for them <3
Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.
Summary; The intention is to sneak into Mingyu's apartment(get let in by Wonwoo) and set up banners and balloons ready for when he wakes. And then you'll cook him a meal like he's been asking for and give him his birthday gift. You don't really have a plan for what happens after that, you assume you'll just hang out, you really don't expect a confession and to wind up in his bed.
Ao3 Link -2024 Masterlist-
A/N- The biggest juiciest thank you ever goes to @sluttywoozi for being so supportive as I wrote this! If it wasn't for you, sweetheart, this would just be soft hours, not sorny hours 💖💖💖 And just the svthub members in general for being actual sweethearts like wtf pls save some sweet for the rest of the world okay <3
ps. scroll to the very bottom to see a very serious birthday edit I made of Mingyu instead of writing this :))
🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈
Honestly, it's a little worrying just how easy it is to sneak around the apartment without detection. You had known that Mingyu is a heavy sleeper for quite a while now but it still concerns you that you literally managed to enter his room, tidy the little mess and set up decorations all while he slept obliviously in his bed with his mouth wide open in a sign of good sleep. Still, it makes everything all that much easier.
"Ohmygod, hyung!" The thrilled gasp edged with a just-awake roughness, alerts you to the fact that Mingyu has finally woken and spotted the decorations in his room. A few seconds later, he is stumbling through the apartment in search of his flatmate but instead finds you in the kitchen. "Oh, you're not hyung." He mutters dumbly, eyes wide. Yours are too but mostly because he is in rather skimpy little boxers and nothing else.
"I'm not," You confirm, staring without blinking at the extensive beautiful skin exposed to your eyes. Not that you have never seen Mingyu topless before, or even in shorts, but this is something else entirely that you have only dreamed of until now.
And then Mingyu realises what he is wearing, or more specifically what he isn't wearing and squeaks before rushing off with an embarrassed blush burning up his neck and cheeks.
When Mingyu returns ten minutes later, he is freshly showered and fully dressed, much to your disappointment. But at least he isn't just in sweatpants and a hoodie like you had expected; he's pulled on his nice jeans and a crisp plain black t-shirt that clings to his torso and is perhaps more devastating than seeing him bare. At least when he was bare it was less like being teased with something just out of sight. Either way, he is out of reach in every way.
The outfit choice makes you tilt your head a little in puzzlement. "You put on your date outfit." You comment, knowing that the jeans and t-shirt combo is a very common choice for Mingyu when he's going on a casual date with someone.
"You look nice, I thought I should too," Is his simple response as he shrugs and walks over to put his arms around your waist from behind and finally greet you as you usually greet one another; with a hug that is perhaps a little too lingering for the nothing-more-than-friends status you both claim to have. Which is true, nothing has ever happened between you two that passes platonic; it's just the fact that you want it to and if your mutual friends can be trusted, so does Mingyu.
"You said you like this dress," You inform, turning back to the food that you are working on. "And regularly complain that I never make an effort when I hang out with you. Seeing as it's a special occasion, I figured I should grant your wish, birthday boy." You tease and feel him grin happily against your neck where he is still tucked down into like he favours. It always amazes you how such a giant man will shrink down for extended periods just to give affection to those he cares about. "Go sit at the table, this'll be ready soon. Your breakfast, my lunch." You muse, pointing out that it is already almost 1 pm, but you had honestly expected as much. Mingyu is notorious amongst your friends for sleeping into the afternoon on days when he doesn't have to get up. And he always takes his birthday off to allow that luxury.
"Ah, you finally agreed to cook for me." He coos and squeezes you happily before letting his arms unwind, hands sliding over your waist in a way that has you suppressing a shiver. Either he doesn't notice your little shaky inhale or simply chooses to ignore it as he relocates over to the dining table.
"I asked what you wanted for your birthday, you said you wanted me to cook for you." You remind, glancing over as he gasps and picks up the little ribbon-wrapped box on the tabletop while he sits down.
"Is this for me too?" He looks over at you with big eyes full of innocent excitement. He's so fucking cute that it is honestly a giant problem for your ability to keep a level heartbeat.
"Mm, of course, do you see another Mingyu here?" You raise an eyebrow, and then he notices the tag with his name on and giggles embarassedly. "Happy birthday, Gyu."
"Thank you," He breathes out, looking at you fondly for a few long seconds and then turns down to the box. "Can I open it now?"
"Whenever you want, it's yours." You confirm, turning off the heat to dish up the food onto two plates.
"Ah, after food." He decides, putting down the box to jump up with every intention of helping you; though you tut disapprovingly causing him to lower back to his seat like a scolded puppy.
"It's your birthday, let me dote on you."
"You dote on me anyway." He pouts slightly as you carry the plates over to put on the already cutely laid table, down to a little vase with fresh flowers in it. Mingyu has obviously noticed them and knows they're from you, Wonwoo wouldn't buy flowers for their apartment after all, but Mingyu does not have the mental capacity to point them out. It's too much for his poor smitten heart to handle after waking up to birthday balloons and banners, and then seeing you looking so beautiful cooking in his kitchen domestically. If he's forced to voice anything in regard to the appearance of his favourite flowers, he is pretty sure he'll do something stupid like confess his undying love for you and ask you to never leave.
"Yes, and you do it too, but today is about you, birthday boy." You retort and make a move to sit down. Mingyu is on his feet before your ass even touches the chair, just so that he can tuck you in like he always does. You let him have this one and just roll your eyes at his inability to not take care of you, even on a day entirely about him.
Soon Mingyu is making happy sounds in his seat on your adjacent left as he thoroughly enjoys every mouthful of food. As much as Mingyu is a foodie and savours his food in general, he still tends to practically inhale whatever is in front of him when he hasn't eaten in a while, but he is genuinely taking his time to absorb every flavour and texture of this meal. It makes your heart flutter to see the genuine appreciation he has for what you cooked for him.
It occurs to you as you take a photo of him enjoying his food to send to the group chat, that the scene very much looks like a date. Your friends all know what Mingyu tends to wear for dates and if they know your own outfit of the day- which Wonwoo at least does- then they will also know that it's one of your own date looks. You stare at your screen for a second then lock the device as you decide against sending them anything despite having agreed to send update pictures. You had already sent photos of the decorations in Mingyu's room though so that will be enough, right? You know that it most certainly is not enough where your nosey friends are concerned. Still, ignorance is bliss.
For the first time perhaps ever, you finish eating before Mingyu so just sit back and watch him contently. He knows that you're watching him and keeps grinning closed-lipped at you, not at all bothered by your attention. He isn't a hypocrite, he has watched you eat his own cooking in such a way many times before and will continue to do so. Mingyu knows exactly how wonderful it feels to witness anybody enjoying your own cooking, especially those you care about. And Mingyu knows that you care about him an awful lot, he is just kind of in denial that the care had long ago stretched way past platonic territory.
As soon as Mingyu puts his cutlery down on his empty plate, you jump up to take the dishes away making him whine. "I was about to do that!" He complains, pouting at you, his left hand wrapped around his glass of water that he barely managed to touch before you dart away with the dirty dishes and distract him from his drink.
"No, you weren't, birthday boy." You sing-song, rinsing off the dishes already to put in the dishwasher ready for later in the day when it will be full enough to warrant being turned on.
"Are you really going to do everything for me today?"
"Yep, whatever you want, I'm at your disposal, Gyu."
"Whatever I want?" He mumbles, more to himself than you, which is good because you don't hear his voice over the gentle clatter of dishes being placed into the dishwasher. All he can think about is getting the one thing he has wanted almost since the very day he first laid his eyes on you. Your lips. Your hands. Your body. You in your entirety. You by his side always so that he doesn't have to face the ache of watching you walk away ever again. But he can't ask for that, not even on his birthday.
After washing your hands, you return to your place at the table and lean onto your elbows on the tabletop. You don't notice the way the position accentuates your cleavage but Mingyu certainly does. It takes everything in him to not look down at your chest. "Are you going to open your gift now?" You prompt, nodding towards the little box.
"Oh, yeah!" He perks up and reaches out for it. "Though you really didn't have to get me anything, you already cooked for me and that's the best gift I've ever received."
"Don't be ridiculous, Gyu, it was just a meal. Not even a particularly exciting one either, you regularly cook much more extravagant meals for me." You pout a little, feeling guilty about the meal you made for him. You had spent weeks trying to come up with something special to cook for him; you had even made a secret groupchat with some of your friend group who you thought would be helpful and not just ignore the chat, to send recipes and ask opinions. It had actually been Seokmin in the end who had not quite snapped but got fed up with your consistent worries over the planned meal and told you that Mingyu wouldn't give a single fuck what you cooked, he just cared that you cooked it. Seeing Seokmin speak up like that made you finally listen to the reason the entire chat had been trying to talk into you, so you stopped looking for something fancy and just cooked something you are confident in already.
"It's not about that," Mingyu speaks, looking at you earnestly. "It's about the act itself; cooking something for me no matter what it is, shows you care. That's what I care about, not the meal itself. Though it was delicious and I really hope you cook it for me again." His smile turns cheeky by the end making you let out a soft laugh.
"Mm, just say when." You agree, smiling when his whole face lights up. You playfully scrunch your nose at him. He returns it without hesitation.
A moment passes between you, not a new moment but one you have both felt many times; a moment with something meaningful floating in the air between you. But as per usual, neither of you are brave enough to reach out and capture it.
At the same time, you both look down at the box still in his hands to redirect your attention to something that doesn't feel quite so big in your chests. Carefully, Mingyu pulls on the ribbon to untie the bow that you had spent a good half an hour trying to perfect that morning so that he can then pluck the lid free. After moving aside the tissue paper Mingyu's eyes land on the jewellery within. His expression melts along with his posture. With a cautious hand, he reaches out to touch one of the silver chains.
"I hope they're what you wanted; you were very vague when you said matching bracelets. I don't know who you intend to wear them with, but I hope you both like them. And that the design isn't entirely opposite to your intention." You worry a little at the end, your own gaze settling on the little double hearts on each somewhat dainty chain. Jeonghan had given you a look as if you were crazy when you had shown them to him last week; he insisted that Mingyu would break the chain within the first day of wearing it. But you know they are much more resilient than they look after extensive testing on them both. You are confident that even Mingyu's accident-prone self won't destroy the chains, yet even if he does, you'll just buy him more. Any many as he wants. So long as he's happy, you'll buy him anything his heart desires. "I just know you like love heart designs and everything else didn't really suit you in my mind."
"They're beautiful." He breathes out then scoots closer to you and holds his left arm out over the table top. "Put it on me, please?"
"Sure," You agree even if you're confused about why he isn't waiting until he gives the matching one to whoever his intended recipient is. Still, you pluck one of the bracelets from its secure seat in the box to wind it around his wrist and clasp it in place. Your fingers trace over the chain and his skin for a second before you start to pull back. But Mingyu quickly, though gently, grasps your right hand to tug it closer to him. "Gyu," You murmur with widened eyes when he pulls the remaining chain from the box. "Gyu, I didn't buy it with this intention." You explain rapidly, worried that he thinks that you expect him to give the other to you purely because you had purchased the matching pair.
"I asked for it with this intention." He admits eyes focused on the chain he ties around your wrist. "Why do you think I asked you to get me matching bracelets if not to share with you?"
"I don't know. I've bought you stuff to match with the guys before."
"Mm, true," He agrees and looks up at you though his fingers remain on your wrist tenderly. "But I wanted these for us; something I can wear every day and have a reminder of you, so I can look down and feel better because I'll be thinking of you."
"Gyu…" You breathe out. His words hold a lot more weight than anything the pair of you dare to utter to one another; like he has finally reached out and caught onto that thing between you and now he is offering you the chance to reach back out. But you don't know what to say, how to reach out without risking the weight of his words not being what you hope.
He stares at you for a moment, lip between his teeth as he chews on it a little with nerves filling his chest. He's already said it, there isn't any going back now. So he decides that if he can't go back, he should keep going forward and take that leap that he truly hopes with everything in him will end in your open arms. "You said whatever I want, right?" He recalls. It takes you a second to understand what exactly he means but then you nod. "Well, I have something that I've wanted for a really long time, something only you can give me. But I don't want you to give it to me just because I asked and it's my birthday. Okay?"
"Uh, okay?" You reply, confused yet very hopeful that whatever his request is, it will be enough that if you reach out, your hand will find his own doing the same. "What is it?"
"Will you kiss me?" Your eyebrows lift in surprise as your heart races in your chest. "And not…not just because kissing is nice and you haven't kissed anyone in a while so you're happy to kiss for that reason." You don't even care that he has bluntly mentioned your lack of any kind of action in the past months. "But because you want to kiss me and not because I'm one of your closest friends or just for a sexual thing but because you like me and want me the way that I want you."
Your voice is barely a whisper when you respond. "And how do you want me?"
"By my side from now until forever as mine, and me as yours entirely."
"Really?" Your voice is choked and there are tears in your eyes from his sincere words.
Mingyu's own eyes look as if they are gathering tears too. Though his aren't wet just because of the rapidly growing cloud of something between you with his hands deep inside as he tries to direct it to your own touch. He's fucking petrified that he is ruining everything between you yet he hadn't been able to stop talking and let his truth flow free. He will never forgive himself if his honesty pushes you away; he'd rather have you as nothing more than a friend than not at all, so long as you're still such a big part of his life.
"Yeah, I-I'm kind of really in love with you," He admits with a weak chuckle. He tries to lighten the mood with a smile but it's much too shaky to do the job.
Luckily though, you don't notice, you're already darting forward to lean over the table and kiss him utterly overwhelmed by his confession and the swell of your heart to have the mentality to voice anything in response. You hope your lips against his will suffice until you have your full faculties back.
For a handful of seconds, Mingyu remains frozen solid in his seat, eyes wide on your own closed ones closer to his face than you have ever been before. He had hoped you'd react positively, but he hadn't dared to expect it. The hope itself had seemed like a dream. So it takes him a few seconds to fully register that you have just fucking kissed him despite all he said. You two have such a solid mutual respect for one another that he knows that you will never play with his emotions in any way. It's that mental reminder that has him jerking back to reality. His hands fly up to cup your face as his eyes close and he finally kisses you back with a soft groan.
Considering that the kiss had been rather one-sided for its start, it isn't a sweet kiss by any means. It's passionate from the first second that his lips press back against yours; both of you are full of so much emotion for one another for so long that it's being released all at once.
You hadn't intended to get carried away in the way Mingyu's tongue caresses your own or how he regularly lets out little low sounds from the back of his throat to show how pleased he is by the way that your mouths move with this same pure need for one another, but you do.
Only when you find yourself on his lap, table edge pressing into your lower back and his erection grinding up between your spread legs, do you actually recall that you hadn't meant to do more than just kiss the man until you gain your mental clarity back. Not that you do gain your mental clarity back but you've both pulled apart to desperately refill your lungs even without stopping your hips moving against each other.
"Gyu," You manage, holding his face firmly and looking into his heavy gaze. He licks his lips but doesn't respond verbally. He's at least staring at you intently enough that you know he will hear you even over the lust thick in his veins. "I'm in love with you too."
All at once, Mingyu falls still and blinks at you in dumb surprise. He hadn't expected you to say as much; even if you do feel the same way, he thought your return confession would come later. You know, after he's fucked you until you can't walk without thinking of his cock every single step. "You are?" He asks, not because he thinks you'd lie, but just because his blood is not circulating around his brain enough for him to have the ability to decipher if it's just a horny hallucination fuelled by his own love for you.
"Yeah, have been for a while."
"Oh." Another few empty blinks at you before he beams and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. "I love you so so so so so much, sweetheart. You'll be mine, right?" He leans back to look at you with big eyes full of love and a hint of pleading.
"Yeah, yeah, of course." You agree, beaming right back at him with your arms around his neck. "For as long as you want me."
"How does forever sound?" Mingyu offers with a cheeky smile.
You take a moment to just admire him, admire the man who owns your entire heart and soul. "I'm not sure it's long enough." You will happily dedicate an eternity to loving Kim Mingyu but even then, you aren't sure that it's long enough in comparison to the devotion he deserves.
"But it's a start."
"It's a start." You agree with a single nod. He smiles adoringly at you then lifts one hand from around you to cup your cheek tenderly and leads you into a kiss. This one isn't like the other, there's no lust in this, even if it still burns in your very blood and clearly in his too based on the bulge still pressing against you. All the kiss contains is pure unfiltered love, and you hope to have many more like it in your future together. And you're positive that it is going to be a long and happy future.
The longer the kiss goes on, the more the lust trickles back in. Soon enough, you're grinding against each other looking for friction and to feel one another closer.
"Baby," Mingyu pants out, gripping your hips tight to force you to a stop. You pout at him confused and rather offended. "There's something else I want. For my birthday."
"If it's to fuck me, you have my very enthusiastic consent." You reply immediately and try to move back in to reunite your lips but he holds you still making you whine. "Gyu,"
"No, it's not. Well, I mean I do want to fuck you, a lot but that's not what's on my mind right now." You pointedly look down at the borderline obscene bulge in his jeans then back up at him. He giggles a little, kind of shy and very out of place but so fucking cute that you can't help but smile in return.
"Okay, what do you want, birthday boy?" You coo, brushing your fingers through his hair.
"To eat you out." You raise an eyebrow at him. You thought he'd ask for a blow job if anything, not for him to go down on you. Not that you're against that at all. "Can I?"
"Mm, sure, baby, whatever you want." You agree. He grins then abruptly hoists you up onto the table making you yelp in alarm at being manhandled out of the blue. Once again, not that you're against that at all.
"I've wanted to get my mouth on you for so long," He admits breathlessly as he watches his hands smooth up your spread thighs in front of him. "Thought about how you'd taste, dreamed about it." He slowly pushes the skirt of your dress up and up and up until it's bunched at the crease between your thighs and hips.
You watch him stare at the seat of your panties for a moment, his fingers pressing into your thighs and mouth open. "For someone who's wanted this for so long, you're taking your time getting to it, baby." You tease, tapping his chin causing him to snap his mouth shut embarrassedly while flicking his eyes up to you.
"Shut up, I'm overwhelmed," He mumbles, tilting his head towards your hand so that you cup his cheek. Your thumb brushes over his lips so he presses a kiss to it without thought.
"Overwhelmed in a good way?"
"The best way," Mingyu confirms, nodding in your hold. "I just found out that you love me and now I get to touch and taste you. It's a lot, I'm not sure I've even absorbed that you love me yet."
"Will it help if I say it again?" You tease, leaning down towards his face. He straightens as you lower as if drawn to you without him even needing to consciously move his body. You have only just come together but already, it's so natural to you both.
"Only one way to find out."
Instead of saying the words, you press your lips to his. You kiss him softly, slowly in a way that makes his breath hitch and his fingers tremble a little against your skin. With just a hint of sweetness. "I love you, Mingyu, more than I can put into words."
"I can't either." He agrees and brushes his nose against yours softly before pressing a flutter of a kiss to your cheek, and then another a little lower. "I'm not good with words," Another kiss below the last. "I never have been," He continues to speak in between creating a trail of his lips over your jaw and down onto your neck, trying his utmost to carve a path of his love into your skin in hopes of it reaching your very centre and finding a home there. "And I'll spend my whole fucking life trying to find them for you." His lips are at your collarbones by now with little flashes of his tongue to taste every inch of you he can. It sends your stomach both fluttering and burning. "But for now, let me try and show you instead." He pulls his mouth from you to stand up and hover over you with both of his hands finding your face to direct your gaze up into his own.
You nod a little in agreement. "Show me, Gyu." You encourage on a whisper before his lips are back on yours, tongue sliding into your mouth as he encourages you to lay back against the tabletop without once breaking the kiss.
And then in true Mingyu fashion, once you are flat against the wood and he reaches up to prop himself up over you, he knocks over the vase of flowers.
He shrieks and flails to try and catch them but the vase topples over, spilling water out over the wood and thanks to his failed correction, in your direction. You just stare dumbly at him. It all happened so fast. One second you're making out with your boyfriend and the next, you're soaked and not in the ideal area. Luckily, it actually isn't an awful lot of water but having it over half of your face and chest really is not enjoyable in any way.
"Ohmygod, I am so sorry, baby," Mingyu rushes out when he looks at you instead of the mess of stems and petals over the table amongst the water. "I didn't mean to get you wet!" You raise an eyebrow with a suggestive grin. Instantly, his worry goes and he laughs. "This is the wrong kind of wet." He muses and plonks the vase down so that he can wrap his arms around you and pull you upright against his chest. "Will you be upset if I ignore the flowers you bought me to take you to bed and make you wet in the other way?" He wiggles his eyebrows.
"I think I'd be more upset if you focused on the flowers."
"Good." Mingyu lowers just enough to get your thighs up around his waist and his hands under them securely before lifting. "Always wanted to pick you up." He admits off-handedly as he traipses through the apartment.
"Why?"
"Because…you let Seungcheol do it that time but no one else." He pouts and you giggle, absently playing with the hair at his nape where your fingers lay comfortably. "Don't laugh at me." He whines. The slap of his palm against the underside of your thigh isn't hard and doesn't hurt at all but the point gets through. Even if it is entirely contradictory behaviour to his sulking.
"Yes sir," You reply, a tease but your voice is serious. The only sign of the playful response is in the way your eyes sparkle on him. He gives you an unimpressed look but quickly breaks and smiles. Though seconds later, the smile turns into a smirk and he tosses you onto his bed.
"You look good in my bed." He grins, eyes darkening as they roam you from where he stands at the side of the bed with his hands on his hips.
"Look better with you on top of me, come on." You settle with your head on the soft pillows and spread your legs invitingly while pulling your skirt up higher. Mingyu is between your thighs in seconds, chest flat to the mattress and face alarmingly close for the speed at which he moves. For a second, you really think that he's going to collide with you; although you have wanted Mingyu's mouth on for a long time, that would certainly not be how you fantasised. "Ohmygod, I thought you were going to faceplant my vagina for a second." You admit in a relieved exhale. He snorts a laugh then shuffles a little closer so that he can press a kiss at the crease of your inner right thigh over the edge of your panties.
There aren't any further words exchanged between you, just a moment of heated eye contact before Mingyu adjusts his position and pulls the seat of your panties to expose you to him. He takes a few seconds to burn this image of you all slick and bare for him in his mind; something for him to look back on when he misses you.
Because he knows he will. He missed you before he even had you and now? Good luck ever going a day without him whining for you in some way.
You let him look even if it makes you blush and squirm a little, half shy, half aroused at the intensity of his burning gaze locked between your spread thighs. He isn't even holding your legs open, just resting his left hand on your inner thigh without any pressure while his right keeps your panties aside. If he was anyone else, your thighs would've closed already but this is Mingyu, the man you hope to spend a lifetime with, so you figure you shouldn't be shy with him. He'll see it all eventually anyway.
Just before you can change your mind and try to encourage him either verbally or by reaching out and pulling him in, he leans down and licks a broad stripe over you, pulling your wetness onto his tongue and making you inhale sharply at the sudden wet touch. He groans deeply and his eyes almost roll back as he sucks the flavour off of you from his own tongue to swallow down. And then he's back, diving right down with his left hand moving to use his thumb to hold you open and give him easier access to lap at the arousal trickling from your hole.
He doesn't really give you any chance to think, just grip the sheets below you with your mouth open and eyes shut while he devours you with more enthusiasm than you could've ever expected. If you didn't think it before, you certainly do now; Kim Mingyu is the personification of your wettest dreams. The way his tongue travels over your folds hungrily, lips joining to suck and kiss wherever his heart desires, is so fucking sinful in the best of ways. You think he may very well suck your soul out of your clit at this rate and you'll thank him for it.
"Gyu," You finally manage to make a sound beside the whimpers and moans he skillfully pulls from your throat in a way nobody could, not even yourself and you truly thought you knew your body through and through by this point. But boy were you wrong. And for the first time, you're very fucking happy to be proven incorrect.
And apparently, calling his name out of the blue is not a smart move because he immediately leans up to look at you with wide eyes of concern. "Yeah, baby? You okay?"
"Don't fucking stop!" You wail in complaint, reaching out to knot your fingers into his hair and force him back down. Though he's more than willing to get his mouth back on your dripping pussy and lowers easily under your hands with a pleased groan. "Don't stop," You repeat on an exhale, watching him devour you as if it's his sole reason for existing. You wish you could watch him for longer but your neck quickly starts to hurt from the awkward angle so you flop back down and let your eyes close again.
Mingyu glances up at you for a second then also closes his own eyes with a self-satisfied smirk. He has imagined this so many times before; how you'd taste on his tongue, how you'd feel against his lips, but nothing he imagined can hold a candle to the haven he's discovered between your thighs. He knows he could happily spend all day with his head between your thighs and his tongue buried in your pussy. He wonders if you'd let him. Not right now, he thinks that would be too much for your first day together but in the future. Tomorrow? Yeah, he'll ask to do it tomorrow, you can both call in sick to work as far as he's concerned.
Honestly, Mingyu is too lost in his own actions to register the way your legs are pulling in either side of his head and your moans changing in pitch and frequency. He only notices when suddenly he has a thigh pressed to either side of his head and you're pressing down against him with a call of his name. His eyes fly open to watch you arch off of the bed as your orgasm shocks through your body. He doesn't mean to groan lowly where his lips are wrapped around your clit but he does and the vibration is too much when you're barely through your climax so you scramble to push his head away. "Sorry, sorry," He pants out, crawling up the bed to hover over you while you slump down, eyes closed and chest heaving. He lowers onto his elbows on either side of you to kiss your neck softly while he waits for you to catch your breath back. He isn't expecting anything more than this and would be happy if you wanted to just leave it here for today, but he's sure as shit hoping you'll let him put his cock in you even for a moment. At this point, he's sure it won't take more than just a moment or two for him to cum anyway, his dick is throbbing in his boxers, pressing against his jeans in a way that he's only now realising is actually a little painful.
The second your breath is back, you tug him up to lock your lips together. His are a little damp and sticky still but you find you don't mind tasting yourself when it's on Mingyu's tongue.
You don't wait long at all before reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt to pull it up. He leans back to give you a questioning look, more to make sure you're certain than anything else. You continue to pull it up so he maneuvers to allow you to remove it from his body.
"You're insane, you know?" You murmur out awed as you take in his defined torso. For the first time, you can touch him to your heart's content so you run your palms over his newly exposed skin, memorising the warmth, the dips and ridges of him.
"What?" He laughs confusedly, looking between your bodies and taking in how your hands look against him, how your skin tone compliments his own perfectly. Like you were made to complement each other. For each other. As he looks up at you and observes the reverence on your beautiful features, he thinks perhaps you were. It's that thought that has him lowering back to your lips again before you can even answer his question. He has the sudden urge to love you in every way he possibly can; not that he never does, but right now it's less of the usual consistent buzz and more like a heated thrumming right under the surface of his skin.
You let out a little surprised 'mmh' against his lips yet don't hesitate to kiss him back. Your hands first lift to hold his face but then they move back down, over his pecs and abs all the way to the waistband of his jeans where you tuck your fingers underneath in a silent request. He groans a little and presses against your hand in wordless consent so you quickly open the button and pull down the zipper so that you can snake a hand underneath and palm at him over his boxers.
Mingyu immediately pulls out of the kiss with a hiss and a low curse. "Baby, I'll cum if you touch me." He warns, locking pleading eyes on you. You can't quite tell what he's pleading for though. Not when his words say one thing and his hips rolling against your palm tells you another.
"Isn't that kind of the point?" You muse, lifting a teasing eyebrow.
"I don't want to," He pouts. Without hesitation, you pull your hands away and hold them to yourself. "No, I didn't mean to stop." He whines.
"What the fuck, Mingyu?" You complain, pinching his nipple making him yelp and squirm away a little but only for a second as he returns right back. Always drawn to you and unable to hide it anymore, he doesn't want to hide it anymore. Wants the world to know if at all possible.
"I mean I don't want to cum like that." He explains, soothing your displeasure with a few sweet kisses to your forehead and temple. "I really want to be inside you."
"Oh," Your expression swiftly shifts into understanding and then delight. "I really want you inside me too, Gyu."
"Yeah?" It's kind of comical the way his eyes light up in pure excitement. More like he has been offered his favourite food, not to fuck you. Well, considering the enthusiasm with which he ate you out earlier though, you may very well be his new favourite thing to eat.
"Yeah, so get naked." You confirm with a giggle that only grows when he scrambles off of the bed to shed his clothes. He stumbles multiple times in his haste and honestly, you're too fucking endeared and in love with this giant clumsy idiot to do anything but sit and watch him with a stupid grin on your face.
He only notices that you have not done anything but sit upright when he turns to climb back on the bed entirely naked and spots you watching him. "You're not naked." He comments, a fresh pout pursing his lips.
"I got distracted watching the man I'm in love with," You explain smoothly. Mingyu's cheek flushes as he smiles at your words, his heart swelling with his own love in his chest. He's not sure he'll ever get used to hearing you admit to your love for him. He doesn't think he wants to get used to it.
He climbs up onto the bed further and reaches out to the hem of your skirt. You get up onto your knees in front of him and lift your arms. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before removing the dress from your body to toss it to the floor carelessly. Later he will worry about the creases in it from being on the floor, but right now he can't think about anything but you.
"You're so beautiful." He exhales heavily as he roams his gaze over your bra and panty-clad body. You're glad you wore one of your nice matching sets today, you think he deserves to see your nice lingerie for your first time together at least.
"So're you." You reach around your back to unlatch your bra. Mingyu's eyes widen in interest for a second then he moves in and pulls the straps from your shoulders so that he can also discard that piece of clothing, leaving you in your damp, slightly stretched-out panties. "How do you want me?" You ask as you hook your thumbs in the waistband, but Mingyu bats your hands away gently so that he can have the honour of stripping you naked.
"On your back." He murmurs as he works the material down your thighs.
"Don't want me to ride you?" You offer, his eyes snap up to you and he goes very quiet and still for a few seconds as the mental image of you bouncing on his cock assaults his mind. And then he's shaking it away with a physical shake of his head and nudging you down to your earlier position so that he can remove the last item keeping you from being as bare as him.
"Not right now, I'll cum too fast." He admits, settling between your thighs on his knees and just looking at you with his hands on your inner thighs just above your knees. "Might cum too fast anyway." He confesses in a mumble making you choke out a laugh at his abrupt confession. "Will you break up with me if I cum as soon as I feel your pussy on my cock?" He asks, looking genuinely worried at the thought and like he seriously wants an answer.
So you take a breath so that you don't laugh again and shake your head a little. "No, Gyu, I won't break up with you if that happens."
"Promise?"
"I promise." You assure, squeezing his hands a little. His left moves up to grab yours in return and lace your fingers together on your thigh.
"Okay," He relaxes as he accepts your words as truth then looks down to focus on his right hand as it moves from your thigh and to between your legs. "I should've stretched you earlier when I had my mouth on you." He realises, prodding at your entrance with his lips slightly protruding in concentration and a little regret at his lack of forethought destroying his plans of sliding into your pussy any second.
"Do you want me to do it?" You offer. Two of his fingers slide into you in answer making your breath catch but then you laugh a little at his reaction.
"No, nobody touches this pussy except me." He argues firmly, already working to move his fingers within you, in and out while scissoring them with his only goal to stretch you enough to comfortably fit his thick cock inside.
"I-I can't even t-touch my own body now?" You ask, amused but his fingers in you feel too good for you to actually put any emotion into your voice. You vaguely hope he doesn't take it the wrong way and does understand that you're trying to joke with him, but mostly you don't care how he takes it so long as he keeps stretching you out in that way. It's a rushed job, you know that, you can tell that he obviously only wants one thing right now and this isn't for giving you any pleasure, but it still is. Maybe it's the way he's being a little rough about it without actually being rough, he's giving you the chance to adjust to his fingers but he's already adding a third and jabbing them into you sooner than you would yourself.
"Not like this," Mingyu answers, eyes still on his task between your thighs, though now he's seeing the way you're leaking even more and he's sort of clicking back into the fact that he should consciously be making this good for you. Though the slick sounds mixed with your laboured breathing and intermittent soft moans tell him that he doesn't really need to try to make this good for you. But next time, next time he'll make you cum until the sheets are soaked down to the mattress before he puts his cock in you. "Are you on birth control?" The question feels entirely out of the blue so you can't be blamed for not answering and just blinking at him for a second. He slows his hand to a stop and lifts his head when you don't answer. "I really want to cum in you." He explains.
"Oh, uh, no. I kept forgetting to take it." You answer and feel genuinely bad when his expression falls. He looks kind of heartbroken. "I plan to get something else soon though, so in the future you can."
"Okay," He smiles agreeably then removes his fingers from you to reach over to his bedside table, open it and rummage inside to find a condom.
"You'd have more luck if you let go of my hand." You muse watching him struggle to open the foil packet with one hand, the corner of it carefully held between his front teeth.
"No," He refuses around closed teeth. There's a victorious sound from him when the foil rips open. He spits out the ripped piece of the packet to the side and you watch the corner flutter away knowing he will be annoyed at himself for littering his floor later. "Uhm," His lost mutter draws your attention back to him. He's kneeling there, the tip of the condom pinched between his fingers as he stares between it and his erection. Clearly, he did not think this through.
You huff a soft almost silent laugh before you sit up and move his hand to his dick so that he can hold the condom and allow you to roll it down his length. He bites his lip and tries to not let your touch get to him.
"Teamwork," Mingyu giggles when you lean back and look up at him. "We make a good team, right, baby?"
"Mm, the best," You confirm, tugging him down by the back of his neck to connect your lips. Mingyu's free hand brushes appreciately over your arm before he starts to lean forward, urging you back slowly until you're against the mattress and he's over you with his right arm holding him up, his left hand still locked with yours but now it's by your side.
You can feel his erection against you, the latex sliding against your thigh until you lift your legs to nudge him over a little by his hips. He presses down, gliding his cock over your folds and catching on your clit. He can't really get the position right like this though, not to slide into you. Mingyu lifts your connected hands up to the pillow beside your head so that he can move his weight over to his left elbow and get his right hand between your bodies. He grasps his erection loosely, just enough of a grip to line himself up with your dripping hole.
"Ready?" He breathes out after leaning up enough to look down into your eyes. You nod without hesitation so he pushes in. He's only an inch into you and he's already convinced that your pussy is the greatest pussy that has ever or shall ever exist.
As Mingyu gradually feeds his thick length into you, you have the honour of watching his face contort beautifully in pained pleasure. He's trembling and his gaze is unfocused even as he stares back down at you with his mouth dropped open wide without a single sound coming out. You're not even sure he's breathing, and honestly, you're not sure you are either.
The stretch of his cock against your walls is utterly mind-numbing. You've had your fair share of sexual partners in the past and plenty of sex toys to keep yourself happy otherwise, but nothing, absolutely nothing has ever felt the way Mingyu feels tucked up snug inside of you. You're not sure if it's because his cock is just that good, big in all the right ways without being too big, or if it's just that you're in so fucking deep with this man that anything he does feels ridiculously good. You're leaning towards the latter, though you are pretty certain that he has the most perfect cock to have ever graced this earth, if not the universe.
When Mingyu's hips finally press up against you signalling that he is fully sheathed within you, you're half certain that you can feel him in your stomach and absently press down with your left hand just to test that theory. You can't feel him, but you can imagine it all the same and wrap your arm back around his neck loosely.
"You okay?" You whisper when he remains that way, eyes still unfocused on your face and both hands on either side of your head where his right is gripping the pillow with everything in him.
"No," He chokes out, finally blinking alert. "Feel so good," He slurs. "Don't wanna cum yet, wanna stay in you forever."
"You don't have to pull out right away." You soothe your hand over the back of his neck, fingers digging into the muscles a little in an attempt to calm your overwhelmed boyfriend. "And I don't have any plans today so we can spend as long as you want in bed and you can fuck me again later when you're ready."
"Really?" He perks up a little. "N-no plans?"
"No, baby, I wanted to be available for whatever you want to do today. Granted, I thought it might be a drive or trip somewhere, not sex."
"Would you rather the trip?" He teases with a little smirk as he slowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock along your walls that try to keep him in place. His smirk wavers.
"No. Fuck me." You reply knowing he really can't hold out anymore. You really don't want him to either. He nods and thrusts back into you.
You expect him to move fast and frantic, to chase the pleasure he has been dancing along the precipice of for a while now. Yet Mingyu fucks you slowly, rolling his hips deep into you and then all the way out until his tip is barely in you before sliding back in. He fucks you like he's got something to prove. It reminds you of his earlier words, that he wants to show you what he doesn't yet have the words to say.
"I love you," You blurt, suddenly overcome with the urge to say it.
Mingyu stills for a second then surges down to kiss you passionately, spilling his response into your mouth wordlessly as his hips return to work. Now though, he barely pulls out before fucking back into you. It's more of a grind than anything, his body pressed close enough that his pubic bone is applying pressure to your clit in a way that is shattering you from your mind to your lower stomach.
Very quickly, the pleasure is too much for either of you to make your lips work further so Mingyu leans up, propping himself up on his right elbow on the pillow, his fingers threading into your hair to hold you as his body continues to make your body burn brighter with every passing second. His forehead presses to yours for a few seconds before he lifts his head and looks to his left. You look over too, wondering what could draw his attention right now when he's fucking you like no one ever has before.
At first, you don't understand at all, all you can see in his line of sight is your hands. Which is nice, sure, the sight of your fingers locked together as he shows you how much he loves you with his cock buried deep within you and grinding against more sensitive spots than you ever knew you had before, though you don't understand his laser focus. But then you find the matching silver chains on your wrists, the hearts almost pressed together with the angle you were holding each other and you understand.
Those bracelets were always supposed to be a sign of love for him, even if you didn't know it. He had asked you to pick out bracelets for you to wear together so that he could always have a piece of you with him and you a piece of him. You had exchanged hearts, metaphorically and quite literally now with the physical representations tied securely around your wrists.
Something about that very thought sends you tumbling into an intense orgasm without you realising it's going to happen until the blinding pleasure is washing over you. Your hands both grip Mingyu, one in his hand and the other around his back and drawing red lines into his shoulder blade. You're not even aware of it, of how you call his name and clamp down around his cock as you gush over it, promptly sending him spiralling into his own mind-numbing orgasm.
It's minutes before either of you return back to earth.
You're back first, blinking away the tears that you hadn't realised had formed until now. Mingyu is pressing up against your chest with his head on your shoulder and the only movement of his body is his back as his breathing starts to even out. It hits you that you missed his orgasm; you had always wanted to know what he looks like during such intense pleasure, but you missed it thanks to your own. You frown a little though a quick glance at your still connected hands reminds you that you are his and he is yours, therefore, this will not be your only chance to see his handsome features contort with pleasure.
"I love you but I also love breathing." You point out after a few minutes of tracing patterns on his back with your left hand. At first, his weight on you hadn't been too much but it seems that your gentle trails on his sweat-sticky skin have made him relax a little too much and let his muscle-thick frame lay heavier on you.
"Mmm, can we still cuddle?" He requests, making no attempt to get up though he does do his best to lean more onto his right elbow again even without lifting up from your shoulder.
"Of course." Though he still doesn't get off of you. "Are you going to move, Gyu?"
"But then I won't be in you," You can hear the pout in his slightly muffled voice, even if you can't see it. "You're all warm, s'nice."
"So you'd rather cockwarm than let me breathe easily?"
He hesitates then giggles when you tug on his ear with an offended gasp. "I'm joking, I'm joking!" He leans up entirely onto his elbow, freeing your torso from him. "I will always pick your health."
"I should hope so." He scrunches his nose at you playfully. You return it without hesitation.
Although he hadn't wanted to get up initially, Mingyu goes to the effort once off of you to go all the way to the bathroom, once he has disposed of the soiled condom, where he fetches a warm damp cloth and a dry towel to clean you up first, then himself. You expect him to return to your side but he saunters off again, allowing you to once again marvel at his exposed ass as he walks away, and returns with a couple of water bottles and an armful of snacks.
The water makes sense, you think, but the mass of snack packets is a little questioning so you raise an eyebrow at him while you shuffle to sit up against the headboard and accept one of the bottles. "What?" He innocently replies, putting the other bottle down on the side table to free his hand and allow him to set up the various snacks there too. "You said we can spend as long as I want in bed, I just want to be prepared, sweetheart."
And well, you can't really argue with that, nor his cheeky endearing smile so you just laugh softly and hand over the open bottle to let him swallow down some of the cool liquid himself before he climbs up onto the bed and wraps his arms around your body to hold you in the way you had both wanted for so long.
Later, when you both have your energy back and Mingyu is no longer constantly on the verge of cumming too soon, he presses you back down against his bed all over again so that he can see every expression on your face as he takes you apart piece by piece just to see how you work at your very core. He learns all of your curves and edges so attentively and allows you to learn his in return.
By the time you're once again laid side by side much later, tucked up in each other's arms tired yet sated, you're certain that somewhere along the way, your pieces got mixed up and Mingyu found himself a permanent home in your chest. He had taken a piece of you for his own and given you a matching piece of him in return.
You can't see it, but it feels an awful lot like his heart. Silently, with nothing more than a soft kiss on his shoulder, you vow to him that you will spend your life protecting it with everything in you. And you're confident that he will do the same with yours as his lips press to your head in return.
🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈🎂🎁🎈
A/N- don't forget to reblog if you enjoyed the story; it involved multiple moments where I almost quit so the show of support would mean a lot and motivate me to write more! & let me know what you think, that'd be grand too pls. I literally haven't written smut in years tho so be gentle on me I am babie <3
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Happy birthday to the biggest babyboy 💋💖
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milla-frenchy · 29 days ago
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4k6 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist Summary: Joel comes home earlier than expected, and catches you during a time alone Warnings: 18+ mdni. Established relationship, sex toy, mention of oral (f/m) and consensual somnophilia, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, mutual masturbation, fingering, dom!Joel, soft!Joel, intimate sex, feelings, piv, creampie, rimming, light spanking and biting, spit as lube, anal play, anal No age specified
a/n: same couple: 5 days collection, but fics can be read alone These two are becoming my favorites, chapter after chapter. It's kinda funny, when I think that I wanted to throw the first fic in the garbage after writing it, but Kate convinced me not to (I owe you 💕💕). 
Anyway, I'm adding some depths to what was mostly pwp, originally. Well, this part is still full smut, but some details add to their backstory. I still intend to write a chapter about how they met and became that couple, but emotionally it's not that easy (I'm in love with them). Enough talking, I hope you'll enjoy ❤️
Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and for stopping me from throwing my fics in the trash 😌💕💕 and @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏
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The slight “buzz” is the only sound coming out of the bedroom. 
That and the moans that sometimes escape your lips, as your second hand tightens around your breast. You play with the vibrator and your sensations, brushing it against your clit, then moving it away a little.
You think about Joel. 
His hands, his lips. The way they have tasted every inch of your skin, so many times. The way he knows your body and how it responds to him. Not a single spot hasn’t been touched, kissed, licked by him. 
You press the sex toy a little more against you, trying to feel the sensations you get when you're with Joel, even though you know it's impossible.
You think about his cock, when your saliva drools from his shaft to his balls, while you focus on the moans he can't hold back anymore.
“Shit, baby, yeah, just like that, keep goin’ a bit. Then I’ll fuck you, ok? Just wanna feel your lips on me a little more.”
The way you nod, not letting go of his cock, giving him what he wants and trying your best to drive him crazy. Sometimes he can't hold back and comes in your mouth with a groan. And when he opens his eyes and sees your little proud smirk of having him break, he growls "c’mere." Then grips your hips to make you straddle his face, and eats you as the sweetest revenge until you come on his tongue too.
You think about how your two bodies are made for each other, like two jigsaw puzzle pieces, whether it’s day or night, whether you’re awake or not.
He should be home in a few hours, but the heat in your crotch hasn’t left you all day, since this morning. When barely awake, he settled between your thighs, your pussy still dripping from the night, burying himself gently in your snoozy body, murmuring “good morning, baby” in your ear with his sleepy voice. His hair disheveled, his eyes barely open. He fucked you slowly, until you clenched on his shaft. He growled in your neck before adding more cum to your core, your fingers tightened on his biceps to keep him against you, while his hands were cupping your cheeks.
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You think about all that, while using the vibrator against you. How you took a shower when you got home, put on some comfortable clothes, then went to the bedroom. You’ve been planning to read your book but the sheets still smelt of this morning and one of Joel’s shirts was lying on his pillow. You undressed, keeping only your panties on, and put on his t-shirt. You didn't even open the book. Your hand slid between your thighs and played with your pussy through the garment. 
But it wasn’t enough. Your panties joined the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, then your finger slipped easily between your dripping folds and over your clit. You came quickly, mechanically, but you needed more.
So you grabbed the vibrator from your nightstand drawer and placed it lightly against you after turning it on, not to overstimulate your swollen bud. 
And now you’re moaning, whispering “Joel,” squeezing a breast over his shirt, before sliding your hand under the fabric and grabbing it roughly. Trying to replicate Joel’s gesture, even though his hand is way bigger than yours, stronger than yours. “Joel,” you whisper again, as you bring the toy closer to your most sensitive place.
“ ‘m here, sweetheart.”
You get startled and snap your eyes open that land directly on Joel, who’s leaning against the doorframe, his lustful gaze roaming your body. You turn off the sex toy and it gets quiet in the room.
“Keep going baby, don’t stop.”
“I… I can’t. I can’t if you’re watching me.”
“‘Course you can. Lemme see how beautiful you are when you make yourself come, right in front of me.” His voice is soft but firm. His gaze is intense, as always. His broad body, leaning against the bedroom door, is the perfect representation of a quiet strength and self confidence. He has all of it in him naturally, it exudes from him. You don’t need more to feel your limbs weaken and your pussy drooling onto the sheets.
Your hand relaxes a little on the vibrator and you release some pressure in your taut legs while you tell yourself that yeah, you can do it. That you’re safe with Joel, that he just wants you to feel good.
“Close your eyes, baby. And turn it on,” he adds, nodding at you, knowing that you need it to relax totally.
So you do as he says, without pressing it against you at first.
“Show me, baby. Spread your legs for me, and show me how you do it.”
Encouraged by his praise, you spread wider, feeling his heavy gaze on you and you press the vibrator against your clit. You moan, even though you are desperate for more, hungry to feel more. To feel him, his lips around your clit sucking on it, or his tongue pointing perfectly at it.
“Yeah, just like that, that’s my good girl. Making me so fuckin’ hard.”
“Fuck, Joel,” you pant. You feel warmth rising in your core, stronger, hotter than when you were alone in the bedroom. 
You hear rustling of clothes, as he takes out his hard cock. You hear him spit, then his wrist slowly fucks his shaft. You hear him growl, while he strokes himself. And it’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever experienced. Touching yourself in front of a man, and it turns him on so much that he needs to touch himself too, and it makes him growl.
You come again, harder, as you listen to him, and you barely finish shaking when the bed lowers under his weight, and he takes the vibrator from your hand. He turns it off and throws it on the mattress.
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“You’re such a bad baby girl. Couldn’t wait for me, huh?” he says above you, leaning down to smell your hair, then running his nose over your cheek and neck. He spreads your thighs with his hand, firmly, claiming his territory like a hungry beast in front of its prey. Eager to devour it. Prey who lets him reach what he wants, how he wants, to finally being touched by the body she has been thinking about all day.
He lays down between your thighs, and his hand cups your mound in a possessive way, as if he was taking back what was his, making you whine with desire. He doesn’t wait more, and two of his fingers dive into your core. You hold your breath, eyes fixed on him, as his dark gaze is on your lips, while his digits find their favorite place in the world. Your hands are lost in his curls, his neck, you already don’t really know where you’re touching him, just being needy to feel him.
“So fuckin’ wet. Just for me,” he groans, and you love that he doesn’t ask if it’s for him. He knows it is.
He pulls up the shirt to your neck to grab a breast. “Fucking yourself in my shirt? It's fucking hot, baby,” he breathes needily, sucking one of your nipples.
“Fuck me, Joel,” you whimper. “Please. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
“Yeah? All day you wanted me to fuck you? This poor little pussy needed my cock?” he asks, as he nestles his fat, throbbing tip at your entrance, to answer your need. He waits for a few seconds though, time for your walls to get used to his thickness, a sensation that nothing else will ever be able to match. Your mind realizes that the room is no longer filled with the sound of his thick fingers pushing into your wet pussy, as if it mattered.
“I’ve been thinking about it all day, too,” he says, as he thrusts in slowly, making you moan against his ear, bodies rushing to finally get their fix. “Thought about ruining you, again and again,” he adds, nibbling your earlobe. 
“Thought about your cunt wrapped around my cock,” his voice is needy, showing his eagerness to take more of you, his pants scraping the inside of your thighs indecently open for him.
“Thought about how perfect she’s always for me. So tight.” The growl comes from the depths of his chest, his shaft sliding into you. 
“How you're mine.” He slips his arms under your shoulders, holding you against him. “You’re always so perfect for me, sweetheart.” He stops for two seconds, buried inside you. Just to hear your breathing stop, too. 
You let out a moan. Unable to do anything else, to formulate words that would be totally incoherent anyway. You let him use your body as he pleases, because he acts exactly how you need him to.
“See what you’re doin’ to me, baby? I left the meeting. We were supposed to go to a restaurant with a client but I let Tommy take care of it.”
“Y… yeah?”
“Yeah. Said to Tommy I needed to go home.
He told me to have a good night, but he knew what I was about to do to you.”
“What… what were you about to do to me?”
“Wreck you. Make you clench on my cock.” He thrusts faster now, but still just as deep. His breathing is panting.
“Oh god… fuck, that’s good, Joel. Don’t stop,” you add, even if you know he won’t.
“Make you milk it, to the last drop. Fuck… You’re squeezin’ me so goddamn hard. You’re gonna milk my cock, baby? Gonna be a good girl for me?”
“Yes… yes, I’m your good girl, Joel.”
“Yes you are. I want you to come, baby. Come on my fuckin’ dick. Can you do that for me?”
“Yeah… Keep fucking me, Joel. Just like that. Want you to fill me up, as soon as I come.”
“Fuckin’ dirty girl. So perfect. Come on, sweetheart, soak me.”
“Shit, oh shit, Joel. I’m…” you whine, just before your climax overwhelms you. It’s like your soul is leaving your body. You think that no man has ever managed to make you come like this, just with his shaft in you. His cock tirelessly brushing the right spot, in the right way. His tip stopping just where it has to, creating a mixture of pleasure and light pain, animal.
“Yeah baby. Just like that, fuck…” His grunts turn into moans. You love hearing him become so vulnerable, just for you. Your feet are crossed over his back as your pelvis keeps jerking him off, feeling him twitch inside you, over and over, until his body relaxes, balls empty and your cunt full. 
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He kisses you, and his mouth travels a path from your lips to one of your nipples which he takes in his mouth, sucking on it like a man who can't get enough. You squeeze his cock again at the sensation. He smiles, lightly nibbling your nipple.
“I’m not done with you for tonight,” he says.
“I hope so. I need...”
“What do you need, sweetheart?” he asks, sucking on your nipple.
“Need more. I need to feel you everywhere,” you answer, feeling the heat reaching your cheeks.
He straightens up towards you, still buried in your warmth. You vaguely feel him twitch in your core.
“Greedy, filthy girl. Always damn perfect.” He pulls out and you feel his cum dripping from your pussy. He removes his shirt from you and manhandles you so that you’re kneeling, and he presses the back of your neck to let your cheek rest on the pillow. He made it all so quickly that you barely realized you were now naked, ass in the air. 
And now he’s taking his time, savoring this vision of you. His hand runs down your back, and makes you shiver, until his fingers brush your ass.
“Everywhere, huh?”
“Yes,” you almost beg. He stands up from the bed and removes his clothes then comes back behind you. He spreads your ass cheeks and looks down, from your glistening pussy to your tight ring, totally offered to him. He spits on your ass and brushes your ring with his thumb, making you whine again.
“Gonna make me fuckin’ hard again, with that ass, Jesus... Tell me what you want, baby. I need to hear it.”
“Want you to lick it,” you stammer. “Please.”
“Mmm... And then?”
“Want you to fuck it.”
“Christ… Yeah, I’m gonna give you what you want. But I’m gonna fuck you with my cum, first. Want it where it belongs,” he says, pushing his load back in your core, then pumping your pussy with two fingers. He keeps fucking you with his digits as his tongue comes to lap at your ring. You're already moaning, not only because of his tongue and fingers, but thinking that some of his cum has leaked all the way out here, and that he's tasting himself as much as he's tasting you.
“That ass needs to be fucked, is that right?” he asks, nibbling the tender flesh of it, before adding “that tiny, little asshole wants to be spread by my fat cock?” and biting a little harder.
“Shit…. fuck Joel!”
His hand falls on your ass cheek, right where his teeth sink in lightly, making you whimper.
“Answer me, sweetheart.”
“Fuck! yes, yes! Need it.”
“Dirty girl,” he says as he leans down again. Licking your ring, pressing his tongue against your entrance in an attempt to open it. Over and over. Until it softens.
“I don't know if I prefer to eat your pussy or your ass. Both are so fuckin’ good,” he says, before diving in again, pressing his nose against the crack of your ass.
“Oh fuck, your damn mouth,” you whine, ass in the air, pushing it as far as possible towards his mouth.
“You love it,” he chuckles, making you hum in the pillow. You do love it. His dirty talk made you see stars as soon as he started to use it on you. Still sometimes makes you choke on his cock.
“You’re gonna take it? You’re gonna take my cock like a good girl?”
“Yes,” you whine pathetically.
He grabs his cock tightly in his hand, jerks it a couple of times. It twitches under his fingers, and points towards your entrance, as if it has a will of its own.
“Fuck baby… I'm so hard.”
He spreads your ass cheeks again, unable to resist the sight of your two holes. He feels, hears himself moan. Afraid to cum already, just with this view he has of you.
“Please, Joel…”
“Yeah, just… gimme a minute baby, please? I’m gonna fucking shoot my load in the sheets if you keep begging me like that.”
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He smiles when he hears you groan. “My needy, precious girl,” he replies almost automatically, while his mind goes blank. He doesn’t think, lets his instincts guide him, and pushes his cock into your dripping pussy, his thumb breaking through the barrier of your ring.
“Oh fuck,” you whine. 
“Yeah? You love that?” he asks, as his hips thrust into you. His other hand is hooked around your hip, using it as leverage. His eyes are glued to your ass and his thumb buried up to the knuckle.
“I still wonder how your ass manages to take my cock,” he asks, trying to regain his wits and his breathing, even though he’s not sure if talking about your ass is the right way to do it. He slows his pace and removes his thumb just long enough to spit there and watch his saliva flow down it.
“Fuck,” he growls, as he licks two of his fingers and then pushes one into your ass, the other just pressing against your entrance. He keeps fucking your pussy and works your ring. Your fist is clenched in the pillow, knowing that in a few minutes he will be thrusting into your other hole. You wait for it and it obsesses you. How you can take him is a mystery to you too. Since the first time he fucked you like this, when you asked him to, you didn’t understand what was happening. This need to feel him everywhere, the way your body wanted to be his. You assumed that was why it was possible, almost so easily. The pain not so strong, and the desire so heady in your mind that you were able to welcome him physically.
His two fingers slide in now, and he spits steadily at your opening, while he slowly keeps fucking your cunt. So slowly. Focused on your ass. Marveling at the sight of you tightening around his fingers, as your pelvis strains as hard as it can towards his digits. His mind is definitely lost now- in his desire, and in your croons.
“Joel…” his name falls from your lips, half moaned, half whispered. He doesn’t answer, keeps the same pace. You manage to smile, thinking he’s already on ground 0 looking at your ass, then repeat a little louder, “Joel.”
“Yeah?” he answers finally, slowing down and removing his fingers, caressing the curve of your buttock. He grabs your hips with his hands, fully buried in your cunt.
“I want you to fuck me, baby. I need you there. Please.”
“Shit. Ok, ok. I don’t wanna hurt you, need to prepare you properly,” he says, as he leans forward, his chest surrounding your back, and kisses the back of your neck.
“You won’t hurt me, Joel,” you breathe. “I’m ready.” He never hurts you, and will never. You know it, as he should. 
He kisses your back, says “ok” against your skin. Licks you one last time, from your pussy to your ring, pressing his tongue against it again, making you shiver at the sensation. 
He hesitates when he grabs your hips, he doesn’t really know why. You’ve taken him here dozens of times. But right now, he feels invaded by an emotion that grips him, even though you know each other perfectly. 
He remembers when you met. Heart broken, your trust in men destroyed. How you rebuilt it, both of you, patiently. And he’s moved by your total surrender, by the way you trust him. He thinks that you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. He tries to focus while his cock flows with precum, but he’s lost in his thoughts.
“Joel? Are you ok?” you finally say, feeling him static. He’s so different from usual, not… feral. He clears his throat before answering “yeah… huh… Yeah, sorry, baby. You’re just… you’re so beautiful and I love you so much. I’m sorry.”
He takes his cock in his hand and is about to position himself at your back door when you straighten on your hands and turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. Offering him the most beautiful of your smiles, which makes him melt even more.
“I love you too.”
You look at him, and god, he’s so beautiful. A few beads of sweat are dripping from his curls and his cheeks are slightly red. He seems so vulnerable at this moment. Your gaze falls down on his shoulders and chest. His biceps are tense, as he grips your hips and presses himself against you, his hard cock molding perfectly into the crack of your ass.
“You won’t hurt me,” you repeat. Nodding at him as he did about the vibrator.
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“Fuck… you’re making me lose my damn mind. Come here, sweetheart”, he says, making you lay on your back. He settles between your thighs and caresses your cheek, as his lips land on yours. Then he presses his cock softly against your ring.
“I wanna look at your pretty face while I fuck your ass, baby,” he says, spreading your thighs with his knee, then grabing one of them with his hand to put it on his back. You do the same with the other, open, offered, and he pushes in slowly. Eyes fixed on you. You close yours as you feel him slide into you and he brushes your cheek with his thumb.
“Look at me, sweetheart. Lemme see you. Lemme see what you feel.”
He’s so sweet you could burst into tears. So perfect. So you nod, ready to give him what he needs. And he sinks in, slowly, and like always you feel like you’re almost suffocating, for two seconds. Your brows furrow, as his do. He caresses your cheek, and the sensation disappears, replaced by the pleasure of feeling him there, that it seems so natural, that he’s made for you. You think about all of this, your eyes fixed on his, and he’s lost in yours. 
Until he comes to his senses, a little, and leans down to kiss you. His lips press against yours, and you feel him moan into your mouth. You nibble his lip before licking it with the tip of your tongue and he chuckles. He kisses you again, and it gets messier. His tongue slides between your lips and searches for yours, swirling against it. Your salivas mix together, while he rocks his cock fully inside you. He straightens up slightly and looks at you, before pressing his forehead against yours. “Damn, baby…” he breathes.
You hold him close. Tighten your legs around his waist, your arms around his shoulders. You freeze for a moment, as if you want to mark this moment in your mind forever.
“Fuck,” he says.
“I know, baby,” you reply. “But, can you move for me? It feels like you’re gonna tear me apart soon.”
He chuckles again, then slowly pulls out, leaving just his tip inside you. Pushes back in, letting out another “fuck.”
He takes a slow, steady pace, as you stroke his cheek and then tuck a strand of hair back into place.
“What are you doin’ to me sweetheart, mmm? Wanted to fuck you all night. To wreck you, just like you love it. But you're the one wreckin’ me.”
“Don’t I do it every time,” you tell him mischievously.
He laughs then whines playfully “You’re so right. I’m the victim here.” 
It's one of your favorite things about Joel. Laughing when you fuck. Laughing even when he fucks your there.
He slides in and out, tirelessly, and his crotch rubs against your clit.  
“And you can still fuck me all night, by the way.”
“Is that right?” He smiles, but you see him twitch. As if his emotions were taking over him again. “You’re mine, he pants. “All…fuck…fuckin’ mine.”
“I'm yours,” you reply, eyes fixed on him. “You're the best thing that happened to me, Joel.”
He kisses you again, as he keeps sinking in. You cup his cheeks in your hands to look at him, and he kisses your wrist.
“It's good, Joel. To feel you like that. So softly.” You feel yourself melting and put your hand on his heart. To see if he feels the same, even though his eyes don't lie, never.
“You're gonna make me come,” you whisper. “You feel it?”
“Yeah,” he smiles softly. He's so beautiful. So protective, so careful. Even when he's rough, he is. But right now, you feel like he's made of glass, ready to explode into a thousand pieces. A fragile material, hidden under a hard, reliable, calloused layer. Shaped over the years. Whose core he's let you see, step by step. 
And his thick layer is chipped, ripped open, just for you. Thanks to your senses, your sensations, your feelings, to both of you. And even if he is inside you, in your most intimate place, you feel that his fragility is exposed, and that he willingly offers it to you. Because he is safe with you. You think that there is nothing more erotic than a man who shows all his rough edges, all his cracks.
He's still thrusting in, slowly. You know he's trying not to come, not right away. Not before you do.
“Sweetheart, damn…you know how much I love to fuck you rough,” he murmurs, his hips and shoulders thrusting towards you. “But this. This is… so special. To feel you like this, and facing you. Being in you there, so slowly, and looking at you.”
“I know. I never felt something like this before.”
His lower belly still rubs against you, every time his shaft pushes in and out. He’s so big inside you. So… in his place. Your moans get louder as you feel your orgasm building. From afar. Like a ball of heat that keeps growing inside you. Your pelvis moves slightly more too, perfectly accompanying his movements. You squeeze your ankles together behind his back.
“You’re gonna fill me, baby?” you ask, keeping him against you, your hand on the back of his neck, his nose buried in yours.
“Shit… don’t say that. I’m already about to combust.” His voice is muffled, breathless, against your skin.
“I wanna feel you spurt in me. Right there. Want you to fill my ass.” You keep talking, because it turns you on. You want to come at the same time as him. You want the intimacy to continue and reach its peak until you both come. You want to lose your senses in his arms, at the same time as he loses them in yours.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck… you… brat.” He groans, moans, a mixture of all of that, and your eyes roll into the back of your skull.
“Please I need you to come sweetheart… oh fuck I’m gonna… I’m gonna…. fuck, baby…” he explodes in you, sending shots of cum deep inside you, and his jerks against you are the last push you need. You pulse, clench on him, your pussy empty and your ass full. “Oh fuck”, he growls again, feeling how hard you’re squeezing his shaft. He nibbles at your shoulder as your limbs go limp. His body leans against yours, and he’s out of breath as you slowly stop shaking.
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He doesn’t move, until he manages to regain his senses, his breathing, and everything that brings him back to earth, to the present moment. Then he straightens his torso, relieving you of his weight even if it feels like a weighted blanket, reassuring.
“Are you ok?” he asks, hands on your cheeks as he pulls out, making you feel desperately empty. His cum leaks out and you miss him already.
“Sweetheart?” His thumb brushes your cheek.
“Yeah… Yes,” you breathe. “Let me just… remember my name. And yours,” you smile, eyes still closed.
“You, little minx,” he laughs, grabs your waist and kisses your neck, and you wrap your arms around him again. You laugh too. You feel good.
“Damn, what was that? It was so intense, sweetheart.” He shifts and lies down facing you, pulling you towards him so that you’re facing each other.
“It was perfect,” you reply, nestling in his arms, in the middle of his chest, where nothing can reach you.
“Are you trying to bewitch me? Cause it’s… kinda working.”
You lift your head to look at him, and say, “You’re such a softie,” giggling.
He looks fakely outraged, before answering “oh yeah? You won’t be allowed to whine when this softie will make you use your safe word, next time he fucks you.”
“Mmm… remember me, when did I use it?”
He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly without answering.
“That’s right. Never,” you answer before kissing his collar bone.
He takes you in his arms and laughs, rolling you over so that you’re lying on him and kisses you.
“Come take a shower with me. Wanna take care of you.”
“Softie,” you taunt him, giving him your most mischievous smile.
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Same couple: 5 days collection
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talaok · 2 years ago
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Late night
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
summary: Derek asks spencer about a late night he had.
warnings: mentions of smut, but just fluff
a/n:(obviously) I'm rewatching, and I got to episode 1x10 and I had to write about this scene(please tell me someone remembers it)
"Easy there tough guy, have some coffee with your sugar, "Derek said, a smirk appearing on his face as soon as he got a glimpse of the obscene amount of sweetener Spencer was putting in his coffee.
"I need something to wake me up" Spence explained, not showing signs of stopping.
He was tired,
God, he was tired,
He wasn't used to this, no, not at all,
and it wasn't like he was complaining, he had the time of his life last night,
He felt like he was dreaming, or hallucinating really,
it just didn't make any sense.
You didn't make any sense.
He was a nerd, a weirdo, a robot, things that until now, he had learned weren't appealing to the ladies,
but still,
there you were,
somehow interested in him,
enough to spend the night with him,
enough to let him get a mere 3 hours of sleep last night.
"late night?" Derek asked, grinning widely.
"very" Spencer couldn't help but smile, as flashbacks invaded his mind.
his mouth on yours, the taste of your tongue, the feel of his hands on you, of your soft skin, of your curves, the feel of you, and then finally of your voice, your sweet sweet voice murmuring his name, and moaning loudly into the thick air.
"my man" Derek said proudly, making Spencer cuss himself internally.
shit, that's right,
he wasn't supposed to know about it,
nobody was,
not until you knew what it was,
not until you were ready.
"not that kind of late night" he lied, and surprisingly, it was convincing, no pitching of the voice, or weird hand ticks, nothing, just his usual self.
"ok so tell me" Derek walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and right at that moment, you entered the kitchen "what does keep young dr. Reid awake at night?"
You stopped in your tracks, your lips involuntarily twitching into a smile as you heard those words.
Spencer glanced at you, his cheeks immediately turning a brighter shade of pink,
"wait let me guess" Derek started, thankfully too deep into his thoughts to notice the not-so-subtle looks just exchanged "memorizing some obscure textbook?"
You bit down a grin, going to pour some coffee for yourself.
sure,
if by memorizing a textbook he meant every single inch of your body,
"no, no, no." Morgan waved his hands, correcting himself " working on cold fusion" he tried again
You had to bring the mug up to your mouth to cover the wide smile on your lips, as you looked at the scene, Spencer's cheeks continued to redden as he felt your eyes on him.
"no, I got it, I got it, I got it" Derek tried to guess again
"watching star trek and laughing at the physics mistakes"
You couldn't help it this time,
a small laugh escaped your throat, and you opened your mouth to justify yourself once both the men turned to look at you, but Spencer interrupted you "Actually, there aren't that many scientific errors in star trek, especially considering how long ago it was made. there are certain improbabilities, but not that many outright errors."
Morgan raised his eyebrows at you, his eyes expressing very clearly -this guy huh?-, and you smiled knowingly, your eyes, in turn, saying -I know, trust me I know-
Derek smiled at your expression before going back to Spence "Right" he said, patting his shoulder before leaving quickly, not wanting to hear one more second of his rambling.
You smiled, walking closer to the now-beaming man.
"so, late night huh?" you asked
"the best of my life"
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pseudowho · 7 months ago
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Surely mister perfect dad-husband-lover Nanami babywears? I could see him in a big woven wrap, maybe one in the same pattern as his tie?
And once the baby is a toddler, tossing them on his back while they run errands about town?
Bonus: would Higuruma? I haven’t read the manga so I only really know of him and his traits via fandom…
Nanami Kento: He absolutely babywears 👏👏 I think he'd be into the reliability of a structured carrier myself, but would absolutely fall apart if Mrs.Nanami has one made with a bespoke, tie-matching pattern.
I think he'd also have a meticulously organised baby bag with snacks, outfit changes, medicine, etc. Truly, a prepared king. He finds it uniquely frustrating that most baby-change rooms are in women's only bathrooms.
I think he'd have a back carrier for a toddler, but he'd encourage them to walk as much as he could, wearing the carrier just in case. They'd get thrown on his back when he needs to carry stuff though. He'd check they're awake back there by doing the Reach Back and Offer Snack technique...if a little hand comes out to take the snack, they're awake 😌
He'd be talking to people while babywearing, his usual low, stern voice, and would randomly interject every now and then with his sweet dad voice to include the baby: "...so we intercepted the Curse on the second floor, and Ino managed to take it out. But you don't need to know about that, do you, sweetheart? No, nooooo. No scary monsters here, no there aren't..."
Talk too loudly by him while the baby's asleep on him, and you'll be met with a death glare, and a single, raised finger in threat; Mr.Nanami Kento, who can excuse murder, but draws the line at disturbing naps.
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Higuruma Hiromi: While I HC Higuruma as child free by choice (I have written just one fic of Dad!Higuruma), I think he'd absolutely babywear through practicality, the guy's too busy to push a buggy. If he has to use a buggy one day, I picture him jogging this baby to daycare (because he's running late) while pushing this buggy. He drops his baby off, gives him a big kiss and hair ruffle...then runs back, because the baby's been holding onto his case notes for him, and he forgot them.
That baby would be his confidante; Higuruma would share case details and ask his baby's opinion ("...so the prosecution, think they've got the evidence they need, but they're clowns. They're clowns, aren't they? Aren't they darling? Yes they are..."), go to client meetings with the baby ("Look...I believe you, but my kid doesn't look convinced. Maybe try something more like..."), and use his baby as an excuse ("Ahhh I'm sorry, I can't make that client lunch actually? Why? Oh, me and my baby hate you I haven't got childcare for the afternoon, today.")
Higuruma's a big oral fixation guy, and a fidgeter (pen chewer, gavel twizzler, tie loosening...) and assumes his baby is too, so has a baby fiddle-clip for when he's babywearing (he likes a wrap sling-- he knows it looks sloppy, but he's a dexterous king and can tie one in 10 seconds flat). He may or may not have had a bespoke fiddle/teething clip made, with a little rubberised gavel on it for chewing.
He's one of those dads who feels sleepy when a baby naps on him. You'd find him, slumped back in his office chair, with a baby napping on his chest, while Hiromi snores away, head back and exhausted, a pen and paperwork still in his hand.
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Mr.Haitch is a keen babywearer. I'm very into Strong Man Wears Baby as a thing 💀
-- Haitch xxx
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star-har · 4 months ago
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nightmares
| satoru gojo x reader | fluff |
gojo is dreaming - at least he thinks he is. it all feels too real; the weight of your collapsing body in his arms as you cripple to the floor; the warm gush of blood leaking from your side, staining gojo's skin like a nightmare; the sound of your heart coming to a dull throb where he presses his fingers to your pulse.
"stay with me, baby," he whispers into your hair, dragging your nearly limp body down where you're concealed from prying, dangerous eyes.
"you can do it, stay with me."
"is everything okay?" you barely manage to speak around the knot in your throat, clutching onto gojo's shirt like a lifeline.
the sheen in your eyes tells gojo you already know what's happening. knows your heart hasn't stopped because of gojo's lips on your skin. but you remain in denial, searching gojo's gaze for confirmation that you'll be okay.
"you're okay," gojo mutters immediately, quick to comfort the frantic look crossing your face as you turn to look at your bleeding side. "fuck— you're okay." he's not sure who he's talking too; the raging voice in his head or the love of his life draining away without him.
he tries to hold them in— the tears. digs his teeth hard into the inside of his cheek to drive the burn behind his eyes elsewhere- anywhere. but god is it difficult to maintain his composure, with you like this.
"i'm not going to die, right?" you whisper the words, tone desperate and hopeless, silently urging gojo to meet your stare.
"no- no." he says the words firmly, as if the mere thought of you living today will manifest this reality to diverge it's path. but even then, gojo can only hold in so much. "fuck, no baby. you're going to be just fine— just hold on. nanami will be here soon, just please—"
the first tear falls when gojo meets your stare, defeated and utterly devastated to find the previous presence of fear and despair vanquish from your eyes.
instead, gojo finds understanding. understanding as you come to terms with what's happening, come to terms that this will likely be the last time you'll ever see your husband's face again because nanami is still fighting the special grade, hands full. he won't be able to help.
and gojo hates it. he loathes it. how you've accepted your fate before gojo can even comprehend what's at hand- your beautiful life.
"stop— stop looking at me like that. please." he begs, turning to bury his face into your neck. he doesn't want you to see him cry, not now- not when this may be your last... "stay with me. please. don't leave me, baby. you're all I have left."
he chants the words like a mantra, urging the universe to hear his pleas, begging to the gods he'd never cared for to save the one person who made his life worth living.
it's hopeless, he knows this. but he can't help it.
"it's okay, "toru," you whisper with a smile, a hand sliding in his hair to urge him to meet your gaze.
"everything's going to be fine. don't worry."
he believes you. every single limb in his body does. you could tell him the world was ending and he wouldn't hesitate a second before shipping you off of earth. you could tell him that he was dying and he'd spend the last few expecting minutes kissing you for however much time he could.
it's only natural his body responds this way— because you're you.
but fuck— it hurts. hurts because everything in him is screaming it won't be okay, but he can't show you that.
not when you were always being okay for him.
so he only holds you close, peppering kisses into your hair before your heart manages to wring its last few beats.
ーーー
gojo snaps awake with a gasp, throwing himself abruptly out of bed as he clutches his sweat-drenched shirt, fisting the fabric to his chest as he attempts to calm his racing heart.
a dream— that's all it was. right?
he reaches for you across the bed, seeking the warmth of your body and the steady thrum of your heart— only to be met with cold.
your side of the bed is empty, sheets ruffled - cold.
"baby?" he climbs out of bed, being met with utter silence.
he stands there for a moment, clutching his fists by his side, silently urging for any sign of you to present itself - a floorboard creak, the soft hum to a song as you prepare tea, your cat's paws scratching the floor as it follows you aimlessly in your wake.
nothing. not a sound.
usually, gojo likes the quiet. likes warming up with you on the couch as he dozes off with you reading on his chest, likes brushing your hair as you sleep soundly - that's the only quiet he can stand.
his heart crashes to a halt, a ringing sound reverberating through his ears, growing louder with each repetition. the walls seem to squeeze him in, trapping him inside.
it had felt so real, his supposed dream, that he begins second guessing himself. he's always confused dream with reality, once waking up from one with your baby sleeping in his arms to find with a break of his heart she had never existed. it felt so real, so gutting- like now.
it was a dream— it had to be. it was. because fuck
-
"toru?"
your voice — that's you.
his gaze flies from his shaking hands to find you at the doorway, frowning up at him, your cat purring soundly in your arms, asleep.
gojo acts quickly. in two, long strides, he's got you in his arms, tucking your frame into his chest and away from the rest of this cruel, undeserving world.
"satoru?" your voice drips in worry, your cat clambering away from your embrace before you return his hug with your own desperation to learn the reason behind your husband's abrupt reaction. "what's wrong, love?"
gojo shakes his head slightly against your neck, finding the consistent beat of your heart against his chest like an angel's melody to his soul.
"just stay-" his voice shakes, wrapping you too him impossibly closer, heart to heart. "don't you ever leave, y/n."
you realise quickly what's happened- gojo knows this because of how you're hand has fallen beneath his shirt, gliding your smooth palm along his back in comforting circles, smoothing fingers over the scars that lay there.
he knows you, more than he ever could anyone else. knows the slightest shift in your voice means you're upset, knows when you walk slower it's because you haven't slept.
knows when you come to trace his scars, it's because you want to ground him. want to show that you're real— you're here and you're not leaving.
"I'm here, 'toru," you whisper into his shirt, placing a kiss where your mouth meets his shoulder. "i'm never leaving. never."
he hums a weak mhm into your body. "promise?"
"oh, baby," you whisper. "of course. you could never make me leave. love you too much too do that. promise."
he believes it. every limb in his body does. it's only natural.
after all— you're the one truth that gojo finds won't ever fail him.
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wholoveseggs · 1 month ago
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Kinktober - {Day Five} {<- kinktober masterlist}
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}
{Stefan Salvatore x F!Reader} Request {Anon}: I was thinking smth along the lines of Stefan coming home hoping to find reader awake, but instead they’d gone to bed without him. He’d been riled up for most of the day and was waiting to come to them to satisfy that, and seeing as he and reader had previously discussed the possibility of trying out sex while sleeping he thought this could be a good opportunity to test the waters. This was just my first thought for the plot, but it’s totally up to you!
1.5k words - Kinks: Stefussy being Stefussy, somnophilia (consensual), breeding kink & praise kink...
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Another chaotic day in Mystic Falls had finally come to a close and Stefan was exhausted. He couldn't wait to get home, pour himself a glass of bourbon and spend the rest of the evening cuddled up next to you. It's been so long since the two of you have been able to have some alone time, and he was going to savor every second of it.
When Stefan walked into the boarding house, it was completely dark, not a single light was on, but he could hear your soft breaths from your shared bedroom. When he walked up the stairs, he noticed that the door was slightly cracked.
He entered the bedroom quietly, taking off his shirt and pants, throwing them in the laundry basket and then walked over to the bed. He smiled when he saw you, curled up under the blankets, your hands tucked under your head. He pulled back the covers, revealing the fact that you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties.
A few nights ago, after a glass of wine or two, you and Stefan talked about what the other liked. You told him that you were curious about trying sex while you were sleeping. You said you thought it would be hot, not knowing what was going to happen to you while you slept.
He knew this was the perfect opportunity to fulfill your fantasy. So he gently ran his fingers up your thighs, enjoying the feeling of your warm, soft skin. He slipped his hand underneath your shirt, cupping one of your breasts in his hand and gently massaging it, his thumb brushing over your nipple, making it pebble. You let out the softest little whimper, and it went straight to Stefan's cock.
"Let's get you out of these," he whispered, tugging on the hem of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs, and tossing them on the floor. "Such a good girl for me, baby."
You let out a quiet sigh, shifting slightly in your sleep and rubbing your thighs together, seeking any sort of friction. He placed his hand on your knee, pushing your legs open slightly, slowly dipping his hand down towards your core.
"Stef...," you whimpered, letting out a soft moan when he brushed his fingers over your clit.
"I've got you, baby," Stefan whispered, he leaned against the headboard and pulled you closer, resting your back against his chest and wrapping an arm around your waist. Trying his best not to wake you just yet.
You whimpered, your hips bucking into his hand, and Stefan smiled. He was glad to know that even when you were sleeping, your body still reacted to him.
"I'm gonna open you up now, okay lovely?"
You nodded in your sleep, letting out another moan. Stefan dipped his fingers down to your cunt, gently pressing a finger into your pussy, and groaning at how tight you were. Your hips jerked and Stefan let out a deep breath, "such a good girl."
"More," you whined. Stefan grinned, gently adding a second finger, his cock getting impossibly hard as he watched his fingers slide in and out of you, your body accepting him so easily.
"God, I can't wait to get inside of you, darling. You feel so good around my fingers," Stefan praised. He continued fingering you, his hand on your hip keeping you in place as you squirmed and moaned, still in a half-asleep state.
After a few minutes, Stefan could tell you were getting close. He could see your brow furrowed in pleasure, and your mouth parted as you moaned. He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine and your eyes flutter.
"Stef..." You slowly opened your eyes, looking up at him, a dazed expression on your face.
"Hey, baby." He kissed you on the forehead. "I'm right here, you were so good, do you want more?"
You nodded, snuggling closer into his embrace. Stefan smiled, moving you so you were on your back again, and spread your legs open. He pushed your shirt up, and started licking and sucking on your breasts, his hand once again between your legs.
You giggled, running a hand through his hair, and tugging on the ends, "this is such a nice wake up call."
Stefan chuckled, "I'm glad."
He trailed kisses down your body, his lips leaving a wet trail along your skin. He had already gotten you so worked up, you didn't need any more teasing.
You tugged on his hair, pulling his lips from your stomach and bringing his mouth back up to meet yours, kissing him passionately. You wrapped a leg around his waist, trying to pull him closer.
Stefan let out a groan, kissing you back with as much fervor, grinding his cock against your core. You reached down, grabbing his length and positioning it at your entrance, trying to push him in.
"I've got you, sweetheart." Stefan broke the kiss, and slowly eased into you, the both of you moaning at the sensation.
He set a gentle pace, his hands slotting with yours, holding them above your head and interlacing your fingers with his. He was always so intense in the way he fucked you, but this was different. It was soft, and sweet, and slow, he wanted to make it last.
"Stefan," you whimpered. Your eyes fluttered shut and your hips moved to meet his thrusts.
"Open your eyes, baby. Look at me," Stefan whispered. You obeyed, opening your eyes, and gazing up at him. You could see all the emotions swirling around in his deep, green eyes, the way he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, it was so intimate.
You leaned up, and kissed him, the kiss quickly deepening, as the two of you lost yourselves in the pleasure.
"You're too good for me," he groaned against your lips. "In another life, I would fill you with my babies, fuck, you'd look so good round with our child."
You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer, "keep talking."
Stefan growled, "you want that? Want me to fill your tight little pussy with my cum, until it takes root and grows a baby?"
You nodded, your cunt clenching around him at his words, "yes, yes. Fuck, I need it."
He groaned at your words, his hips stilling, and filling you with his cum. "Shit, sorry."
You smiled, "why are you apologizing? That was really hot."
Stefan's cock was still inside of you, his cum dripping out of your pussy and down your thighs, he could already feel himself getting hard again, and moved to pull out, only to be stopped by you, "you're not finished Mr. Salvatore," you smiled.
He smiled, his hands gripping your hips, and he thrusted into you again, making you gasp and moan, "that's a good girl, taking my cock so well, fuck."
You whimpered, gripping onto his shoulders, and grinding your hips into his. Stefan leaned down, pressing his lips against yours once more, groaning into your mouth.
"So full of my cum, being so good for me," he panted, his thrusts becoming erratic. You felt a warmth spread through you, and a familiar feeling starting to build in your core as he fucked you into the mattress.
He leaned back, his thumb grazing your clit, and pressing down, "come for me, baby."
You let out a low moan, your legs shaking as you came, his name falling from your lips, over and over again. Stefan groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, and filling you once more.
You were both panting and covered in sweat, as you came down from your high. He placed gentle kisses all over your face, and stroked his hand through your hair.
"Are you okay, lovely?"
You nodded, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his, "I'm more than okay."
Stefan smiled, kissing you softly, before rolling onto his side, and pulling you into his arms. He placed a gentle kiss against your forehead, before snuggling into the blankets, and closing his eyes.
“Don't tell me you're tired,” you teased, a grin forming on your lips.
He let out a sleepy grunt, his arms tightening around your waist. “Shut up,” he mumbled, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
“That's so unfair Stef! Waking me up in the middle of the night, only to fall asleep and leave me alone.”
“Mmm, sorry,” he said, his voice muffled.
“It's okay, I'll forgive you if you give me one more round,” you whispered, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against his jaw.
“You're insatiable,” he muttered, but he couldn't hide the smile on his face.
You laughed, rolling him over, and straddling his hips, “maybe a little... But it's your fault,” you said, kissing him softly.
Stefan smiled, placing his hands on your hips, and squeezing gently, ready to please you in any way he could.
“That's alright with me.”
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{<- kinktober masterlist}
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formulawolff · 5 months ago
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night swim - t.w.
pairing: nanny!reader x single dad!toto wolff
word count: 1.5k
warnings: poorly translated german, age gap relationship, inappropriate work relationships, oral (f! receiving), boundaries being crossed, pet names (lots of pet names ok), cursing, toto being a munch, yadayadayada
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"do you mind if i join you?"
the words are low, thick with his accent as you glance over your shoulder. the heat from the water seeps into your muscles, bubbles foaming at the surface as the jets run, creating tiny currents.
"i don't mind!" you chirp, "the more, the merrier!"
toto wolff, team principal of the mercedes-amg petronas formula one team stands behind you, peeling off the heather gray tee that clung to his frame. he's careful with his movements, ensuring that he does not make too much noise as he strolls over to the ladder.
he steps in, bliss rippling across his face as the warmth envelops his exposed skin. he settles in the tub merely a few feet across from you, his broad shoulders leaning against the edge.
"now, this is nice. i can see why you've been coming out here these last few nights."
bringing your hand to your mouth, you stifle a giggle, "never been in a hot tub before, mr. wolff?"
"please," he rolls his eyes, tutting, "call me toto."
"well toto," you emphasize his name, clicking your tongue, "my question still stands."
when you were offered to accompany mr. wolff and the kids for a weekend getaway in the mountains surrounding zermatt, how could you have refused? especially when it was made very clear that mr. wolff was going to cover all of your expenses. while you profusely stated he did not have to, he was adamant that he was going to. along with your typical payment for assisting with any and every one of the children's needs.
oh, the perks of nannying for a billionaire.
since it was around midnight, the kids were asleep, leaving you two as the only ones awake. the hot tub was spacious, but it was still cozy, only a few feet between you and the team principal. all around, hanging lights glowed, casting a soft golden light over the water.
additionally, there was a privacy fence surrounding the tub, shielding you from the frosted windows of the cabin. it was the perfect relaxation spot, as you could lounge here in the evenings after putting jack to bed and checking on rosa and benedict.
well, now that toto found you, it had disturbed your little quiet haven.
yet, you didn't mind, leaning over the edge of the tub to place your book down. since you didn't know much about the team principal, this was the perfect opportunity. perhaps you could learn a thing or two.
it went without saying that toto was a mysterious man. due to his hectic schedule, you did not encounter him much. most of the time, they were brief exchanges as he came home from work-related events, or when he came by to pick up the kids from susie.
these exchanges were completely cordial, his tone nothing but polite as you greeted him. however, now that awkwardness politeness was dissolving by the second, the team principal in close proximity.
"i have participated in my fair share of hot springs and such," he shrugs, "but this is sort of a rare occasion. i don't get out much, but i'm sure you know that."
"you seem like a very busy man," laughter bubbles up in your chest, spilling from your lips, "how is the season going? jack told me he was excited to see lewis next weekend."
at the mention of lewis, as in lewis hamilton, toto's lips curve into a broad grin, "the season is going well. there have been some hiccups, but nothing we can't handle. but enough about me, i'm sure the kids tell you all about their father. i want to get to know you."
"me?" you raise a brow, "oh toto, there is nothing interesting about me. i promise."
"nothing interesting about a gorgeous woman like you?" your heart skips a beat as he crosses the space between you, only inches apart now, "surely there's something. what else do you do besides nannying?"
"taking care of your children is the only interesting thing about me i'm afraid."
"do you have a boyfriend?" toto presses, his hands cupping the edge of the tub, pinning you to the cool surface, "surely you have a boyfriend. you're far too pretty to be walking around single."
"oh toto," you murmur, the notes so sweet and angelic, "nannying is my top priority. ensuring that your children are safe, happy, and well taken of is what i devote most of my time towards. i don't have time for boyfriends."
"good girl," he hums, "that's a good answer. you're far too pretty for most of these boys anyway."
good girl.
the way the praise fell so effortlessly from his lips sends a shiver down your spine.
"so what are you saying?" tilting your head back, your gaze finds his, your lips pursing ever so slightly.
"i'm saying you need a man," his mouth hovers above yours, the words dripping with lust, "you need a man to take care of you."
"oh do i?" you tease, "do i need a man like you, mr. wolff?"
fuck.
were you oh so tantalizing in this moment.
toto knew he shouldn't. he knew the stakes involved. he was well aware of the risks that came with this.
yet, you were so fucking tempting in that little number.
and he just couldn't resist.
not for a second longer.
lips crash into yours, steady hands cupping the curves of your ass, lifting you to the edge of the tub. you nearly teeter, but he holds you firmly, the fiery kiss sucking the air out of your lungs. the veins in his muscular forearms are prominent as he keeps you situated on that edge, your thighs spreading, inviting him in.
a whine rises in your throat as his tongue licks along your lower lip, begging for entrance. you let him in, hips bucking as the kisses deepen, your arms wrapping around his neck.
the kisses are passionate, fueled by lust. almost as if the team principal was wolf, ready to pounce.
and you were his prey.
his innocent, angelic, stunning, prey.
the cooler air has your nipples hardened, yet you were hot to the touch, desperate for some sort of relief to the burning desire consuming you whole as his mouth descends, pressing sloppy kisses down your neck, onto your collarbone.
"toto," you groan, head rolling back as fingers wrap around the fabric of your bikini top, his warm mouth enveloping your nipple. his tongue flicks back and forth, earning a series of mewls from you.
"what is it?" he nearly pants, "what do you need?"
"you."
"is that right?" he coos, glancing upward, "you need a man like me to take care of you?"
"yes," you nod, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, "please."
"oh i will," his lips curl into a smug smirk, "i'll take care of you, angel. don't you fret."
his mouth reconnects with the plane of your stomach, the taste salt lingering on his tongue from the water. you squirm as he finds your dripping core, his tongue teasing your swollen clit through the fabric of your bottoms.
"so, so beautiful," he murmurs, his breath fanning against your inner thighs, "like an angel from the heavens above."
his fingers hook the hem of your bottoms, pulling them aside as he comes face-to-face with your weeping cunt. carefully, his tongue treads along your slick folds, a moan ringing out into the night.
your fingers tangle in his dampened locks, tugging at the roots as his eyes drift upward.
the emotion bursting within those depths is indescribable. it was almost as if a man was brought to his knees at the altar, ready to worship and praise the divine. as if a man was catching his first glimpse at a piece of pure art.
yet, the once bright mocha gaze was now dimmed, hardened into a near obsidian hue by the spell that had taken ahold.
"ride my tongue," the words vibrate against you, "i need to feel it. need to taste you."
yet, as you begin to roll those hips, a familiar cry floods your ears.
"papaaaa! hase!"
jack.
"fuck," toto curses, wiping his lower lip, "i guess i should go check out what he needs, hmm? or isn't that your job?"
"he called for his papa first," you tease, sticking out your tongue, "i can go help him back to bed though. he probably just had a nightmare."
"hase?" his brows furrow as you swim across the tub, stepping onto the ladder, "why does he call you bunny?"
"it's a long story," you wave a hand, treading up the steps, "i need to go do my job. also, my fingers are getting all pruney. we may want to continue this somewhere else."
"well," toto follows in suit, slapping your ass, "i think we'll continue this in my room. if you don't mind."
"you better hope i don't fall asleep with jack," you scoff, wrapping a towel around your frame.
"oh hase, don't fret. i'll just carry you out of that bed and into mine."
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lovecla · 10 days ago
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TAKE IT EASY (OTHERWISE I’M LEAVING) | connor bedard.
© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist, single chapter:
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ᡣ𐭩 — pair: connor bedard x fmc (olivia)
ᡣ𐭩 — synopsis: in which connor bedard’s girlfiend, olivia, is tired of seeing her boyfriend destroy himself every single day.
ᡣ𐭩 — word count: 3.1k
ᡣ𐭩 — chapter warnings: inspired by the song “you” by chase atlantic, angst, hurt with a dash of comfort.
ᡣ𐭩 — from me to you: the second chase atlantic released this album i knew i had to write something inspired by it. i missed writing for bedsy and since he’s our golden, hardworking boy, i thought this was very fitting. hope u like it 🤍
ᯓᡣ𐭩
but you've been diggin' up the truth
haven't slept in like four nights now
blame it on substance abuse
out in the deep end, i'm swimmin', i'm swimmin' again
YOU WOKE up startled with the loud bang coming from somewhere inside your apartment, your whole body jumping and your heart starting to race inside your chest.
Now, almost fully awake, you stare at the clock sitting on your bedside table, reading the time. 4:13 a.m., and when you pat the other side of the bed, where your boyfriend of two years should be laying, you frown as you find it empty and lukewarm to the touch.
“Connor?” You whisper, scared to wake him up unnecessarily, even if you knew he wasn’t lying with you in bed. Again.
You get up, the fabric of his old Blackhawks sweater heating up your skin, as you put on your slippers and leave the bedroom, noticing traces of Connor’s absence here and there— his slippers aren’t by his side of the bed, his duffel bag isn’t on the hallway like it usually is, his water bottle isn’t on the couch like he had left it last night, when you both went no sleep at one in the morning.
So that’s why you don’t understand what he’s doing by the front door, ready to leave, even if he had only slept for three hours.
“Connor?” You call again, watching as his blue eyes look at you, surprise and guilt decorating his expression like a famous painting hanging on the Louvre’s wall. “What are you doing?”
Your voice is still soft, and despite the scare, your eyes can barely stay open. You’re tired, tonight was the first night you had allowed yourself to sleep freely since now you were done with your exams. And you were happy because you managed to convince Connor to come home earlier, at eleven instead of midnight, just so you could spend some time together, like you used to do when you started dating.
“Liv, hey,” he whispers, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
That’s when you realize what he’s doing. The bag, the stick on his hand, the outfit. He’s—
“Are you serious right now?” You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. “You’re going to the rink? At four in the morning?”
“Baby, you know I need to,” he tries to sound convincing and if it wasn’t for the fact that this is probably the hundredth time he’s done this, you would’ve actually believed him. “We have a game coming up and—”
“Yes, I am well aware of that, Connor. But you went to sleep at one. Two nights ago, you also went to sleep at one and woke up at five. And the night before, and the night before that too.”
You don’t try to hide your feelings anymore. You want him to know you’re upset, and you want him to know that this, whatever the hell he’s doing, isn’t okay.
“I know, baby, but you know I have to keep practicing so I can help the guys.” He’s now facing you, his body visibly tense.
“That doesn’t even make sense, Connor, what the hell. There are other twenty fucking people in your team, you’re not the only player there. It’s not your responsibility only!” You cover your face with your hands, truly upset.
“Liv,” he calls your name, and it hurts to even hear it, because his voice is so full of guilt and shame. It makes you feel sick. “You’re not being reasonable right now. This is the NHL. You know how hard I’ve worked for this. There are people counting on me.”
“And I’m not one of them?” You whisper, making eye contact again, only to realize you’re not strong enough to have this conversation at four in the morning.
“Liv—”
“It’s fine, Connor. Go to practice.” You sigh, making your way back to the bedroom, praying that he doesn’t notice the tears running down your cheeks.
ᯓᡣ𐭩
you said, "take it easy, otherwise i'm leaving
yeah, i don't wanna stay and watch you die",
ᯓᡣ𐭩
CONNOR HAD an injury.
His jaw had been fractured, and he had to go to surgery to fix it. You were in the arena watching the game with Connor’s sister when it happened, and you had never been so scared.
You know Hockey is about hitting people as much as it is about playing and winning, but you won’t lie and say your heart doesn’t hurt inside your chest whenever you see Connor getting hurt on the ice.
And you aren’t dumb. You know that some players will purposefully hurt him just because he’s good. And even if people aren’t one hundred percent sure that that is what happened that night, you still remember the terrible feeling of losing when you were in the ambulance with Connor to the hospital, trying your hardest not to cry in front of anyone because you know what they would say.
She’s not tough enough to date a NHL player.
But you believed yourself to be tough. The only problem with all of this is that you knew Bedard would never take great care of himself, meaning that you’d have to be with him twenty-four-seven, which wouldn’t be a problem, if only he accepted your help.
Now, four weeks after the surgery, you’re inside the United Center, the Blackhawks arena in Chicago, stomping your feet as you walk towards the rink, the sound of your steps being muffled by Connor’s constant skating.
“Connor.”
You have to call him a few times so that he can finally get out of his head and look at you; once again, those blameworthy eyes looking down at you, as he skates closer to the benches where you were standing.
“Liv.”
“What do you think you’re doing, Connor?” You snap. “You’re supposed to be resting. You’re definitely not supposed to be on the ice.”
“I know, but my jaw is just fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.” He removes his helmet, running his gloved hand through his hair.
“It didn’t seem like it was fine last night when you had to swallow a bunch of pain pills because it was hurting. Connor, don’t you see what you’re doing to yourself?” You can feel your face heating up, and you’re trying so hard to keep your shit together but— “You have to allow your body to rest. If you keep up with this, you won’t get better—”
“That’s not an option, Liv, and you know it,” he hissed back, now looking more distressed than guilty. “This is my life. And I did allow myself to rest, I spent four weeks doing absolutely nothing, just like the doctor asked me to.”
“He said six to eight weeks, Connor,” you sigh, tired, not actually believing you’re having this conversation with him. “Please. Just think about how I feel when I know you’re not well enough to be here yet you still are.”
He pressed his lips together, placing his stick on the floor next to him and moving his helmet around his hands.
“Liv, you know I love you but this— Hockey is what I am. It’s what I do. You have to understand—”
“And I have done nothing but understand you!” You shout, finally losing your cool and snapping at him, your loud voice echoing through the empty arena’s walls. Connor takes a step back, but now you’ve already started and you won’t can’t stop. “Ever since we met, I have been nothing but understanding. I stood by your side at all times, even when what you were doing wasn’t healthy for you!”
“Olivia—”
“I went to sleep alone and cried more nights than you could ever imagine,” your voice cracks, and your stubborn tears are already rolling down your face. “I still supported you no matter what. I cooked your meals, I packed your bags, I went to those ridiculous gala dinners and I did it all with pleasure because I love you and you’re supposed to do these types of things for the people you love!”
“Baby—”
“So you don’t get to stand in front of me and ask me to understand how badly you treat yourself and how you don’t care about anything else besides Hockey when I gave up everything to be with you!” You try to wipe your face, stepping back when Connor tries to reach you. He frowns when you flinch. “I gave up my freedom because I wanted to be with you and God knows I’d do it all over again because I fucking love you.”
“Baby, I know all of this and I’m grateful, I really am but—”
You let out a wet chuckle, shaking your head. “There’s always a but with you.”
“Hockey is important to me, baby.”
“And I am not.”
The silence after your words is cruel, and it tears you apart, scratching your skin and making your insides hurt. His blue eyes, your favorite color to ever exist, are also filled with tears and you hate to see it. You hate to feel bad about saying these things.
The thing about loving someone is that the thread between giving up yourself for them and giving yourself to them is really thin.
You love Connor Bedard. Have loved him for years now. He makes you happy, he listens to you, he’s your best friend.
“You know that’s not true, Liv,” he gets closer, the sound of his skates hitting the ice making you want to puke. “You know you’re more important to me than any of this. You know I love you.”
“No, Connor, I don’t,” you whisper, smiling even when all you feel is pain. “I can’t do this. I won’t watch you d-destroy yourself and not do anything.”
He removes his gloves quickly and grabs your wrist, cold fingers holding your arm down. “Olivia, wait.”
“No,” You shake your head. “I need time. Sorry.”
You don’t look at his face as you leave the arena, and you certainly don’t listen to his voice shouting your name, over and over again.
ᯓᡣ𐭩
i don't know what to do
i’m stuck in a loop, stuck in a loop
ᯓᡣ𐭩
HE WATCHES you talking to the children from afar.
You’re sitting on the floor, and it’s so obvious you’re better different from everyone else at the party. The children surround you like you’re their favorite princess or superhero, all of them wanting a little bit of your attention.
Connor feels like he should be offended, since those kids were there to see his team in the first place. It was some kind of reunion Foligno arranged with the media team, inviting some of his son’s friends and some other children with less opportunities.
But he isn’t. First of all, he’s thankful because if it weren’t for your charm, he would be the one having to deal with the children, something he wasn’t very fond of. Sure, he likes kids and he’s happy they like him, but if he could avoid social interactions, he would.
Besides that, watching you happy is something that he had missed, and he feels like shit for it. He knows he hasn’t been a good boyfriend, and he knows he should do better. Ever since that one night at the rink, you haven’t been the same.
But if he thinks about it too much, he realizes that you haven’t been yourself for a long time now.
And it hurts.
It hurts because he doesn’t know what to do. He loves you, the very first girl he fell in love with, but he also loves Hockey. As a young player in the NHL, he feels like he constantly needs to prove himself to others, and since people give him so much attention, he needs to keep on being a good player.
He doesn’t know how to balance things, how not to spend hours and hours without end on the ice, muting all of his doubts and worries while he keeps throwing the puck in the net.
You smile at a little boy who’s now handing you a flower, and Connor smiles as he watches you ask the little boy to put it on your hair, laughing when the other kids stop their babbling to clap at your newest look.
You make eye contact with him, and he feels himself getting devastated when he notices that the shine in your eyes lessened a little when you looked at him.
ᯓᡣ𐭩
(why do you hate me?)
i could never hate you, despite the words that you've been sayin'
i’ve been having breakthroughs
and hoping you were proud, just maybe
anxiety drives me insane, and my newest addiction is pain
i know i said it was a ‘phase’
five years later, still stuck in my brain
ᯓᡣ𐭩
CLOSING THE front door with a sigh, you let your first sob out. The tears won’t stop, and you don’t bother to wipe them, it would be pointless.
All you want to do is slide down to the floor and stay there, letting the hardwood hurt your back and get you dirty, but you can’t. Your car decided to break in the middle of the road on your way back from college, and you had to walk until you found the nearest telephone to call your insurance company, which would’ve been fine if it weren’t for the terrible storm going on, the water drops penetrating your thin shirt like you weren’t even wearing anything in the first place.
It’s just one of those days where everything that could possibly go wrong goes wrong, but you’re already so fed up with life lately that this all seems too much.
“Liv? What happened, baby?”
You lift your head up faster than you should've, because now you can see tiny, black dots floating around in your vision. You weren’t expecting to see Connor at your house, much less wearing the apron you gave him when he prepared his first dish by himself two years ago— a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
“Connor,” you whisper, not looking him in the eye. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“I texted you,” he says, removing the apron that read “cook it yourself, cunt”. “What happened, baby? Are you hurt?”
You don’t say anything, mostly because you’re certain that if you let one little word slip past your lips you’ll start crying uncontrollably once again, so you just shake your head and leave your things on the floor beside you, walking past him so you could get to your room.
He’s quick to follow, though, watching as you remove your wet clothes and get in the shower, both of you silent and lost in your own thoughts.
Not talking to Connor about your feelings feels weird, but you can’t help but feel like you’re holding him back. It’s sickening, because all you want is to stay with him and be happy, but sometimes loving is also letting go.
You get out of the shower, feeling the tears coming back when you spot the change of clothes Connor left for you on top of the toilet lid— his shirt, his pants, your favorite panties.
He knows you too well. He knows who you are as a person and he knows who you want to become. He knows your fears and your ambitions, he knows your dreams and hopes. He knows what you stand for and what you absolutely despise.
He knows you.
You change, and leave the bathroom quickly, wanting nothing more than to lay down and sleep for days.
“Some lady from your insurance company just called, saying your car will be ready next week,” Connor says, and only then you noticed he’d been standing next to your wardrobe the entire time, crossed arms in front of his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me your car was broken?”
You shrug. “I knew you were at practice. Didn’t want to bother you.”
“So you walked home? In the rain?” You can tell by his tone that he’s upset, but there’s nothing much you can do.
“I mean, what did you want me to do?” You scoff. “My phone died and I had no cash on me. And honestly, we both know that you would never leave the ice for something like this.”
“Liv, you know that’s not true,” he whispers, getting closer to you. “You know that I’d leave at any moment if I even knew you needed me.”
“Whatever,” you mumble before reaching for your phone in your bag, the device thankfully still dry, and put it to charge, removing the hundreds of pillows you have on top of your bed and throwing them on the carpet floor, already visualizing the amazing sleep you’d have.
“What are you doing?” You feel his hands on your back, his body closer to yours than it’s been in a while. “You haven’t had dinner yet. I cooked…”
His sad tone makes you break again, and you hate yourself for it. But you still love him so much, and it hurts to see what you’ve become.
“Liv, please, tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads, turning you around and wiping your tears with his thumbs. “I’ll fix it, I promise. Just tell me what’s wrong, baby.”
“Can you fix us?” You whisper, resting your head against his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. He smells like home and the winter. “Can you fix what we’ve become?”
He’s quiet for a while, long fingers caressing your hair, like he used to do back when you had started dating.
“I’m trying, I swear I am,” he whispers back, and you can finally hear genuineness in his voice. “You’re everything to me, baby, and I won’t lose you.”
“I’m not asking you to give up on Hockey,” you explain, watching as your tears stain his shirt. “I’m just asking you to take care of yourself. Connor, I need you to take care of yourself.”
“I know, baby, and I’m sorry,” he kisses your cheek, the first time his lips touch you in more than two weeks. “I’m so sorry.”
You listen to his heartbeat and sigh, choosing not to say anything. You know the only way you can find out if he’s being genuine or not is with time, because only it will tell if you’re fixable or not.
But as you let yourself sleep close to his body that night, losing yourself between the sheets and his arms, you can finally breathe again.
Because he said he’ll try, and Connor Bedard always tries his hardest with everything.
187 notes · View notes
imaginespazzi · 5 days ago
Text
Part 11: Free Fall
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10
How many nights did you wish someone would stay? (Lie awake only hoping they're okay?)
(In which an angst writer makes her comeback in more ways than one)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Fluff if you squint?
Words: 8.0K
TW: Swearing (that's probably it?)
A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Y'all are the sweetest people ever for being so patient with me but it's finally here! I'm hoping that I don't put y'all through this again but it is almost finals season so...fingers crossed. While you read this chapter, I'd like y'all to keep in mind how much you love me and how much y'all wanted a new chapter and of course my favorite phrase: for the plot! I tried to edit but I hate reading my own work back and so it's not as thorough as it should be and there's probably typos so lemme know. As always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely week my angels!
May 2025 
It’s her first ever WNBA game -Dallas Wings vs Washington Mystics- and the first thing Paige notices as she steps onto the court is that the two courtside seats right by the Mystics bench are empty. The sound of music streaming through the speakers clashes against the raucous crowds; the lights are dimmed and there’s a riveting thrum of energy swirling the arena in anticipation for a generational talent’s professional debut. Paige has spent the days leading up to her first game immersed in basketball. Since training camps, she hasn’t let herself think of anything except how to make sure the ball went through the hoops, how to make sure the person in front of her didn’t score, how to win. 
It’s easier that way. Because then she doesn’t have to think about how empty and cold her bed feels at night, doesn’t have to think about how much she craves to press call on a number she knows she should have blocked, doesn’t have to think about how the pieces of her shattered world are barely bound together by a tape of pretend. Paige can’t think of any of that and so she’s spent every second awake, clearing her head of all potential distractions and focusing on preparing for this moment. 
Except, the moment is here now. 
And all Paige can fixate on is the empty courtside seats. 
The memories come back to her in waves; the two of them in those seats, pressed together -as close as it could be acceptable for their façade of best friends to be- as they weaved dreams of it being their turn on the professional stage. If she listens closely, Paige swears that amidst the chaos, she can still hear the echo of a promise that had once been made casually in conversation. 
“When you play here for the first time, I’ll be right here cheering you on. Every single time.”
Another broken promise. 
The truth is that the last few weeks as much as it’s felt like Paige is walking on a carpet of roses, there have been countless sharp thorns woven through the petals. She’s tried to avoid them -focusing on what she had, instead of what she’d lost- but they’d found a way to perforate through her skin anyways. And Paige knows she’s bleeding but she can’t scream, so she swallows the pain away instead. Memories of the past are piercing her feet and it feels like she’s leaving a trail of it feels incomplete without you behind her as she navigates the journey through her present, stepping towards a future that would be nothing like the one she’d imagined when she’d been a naive girl sitting in those courtside seats. 
The courtside seats that are empty tonight. 
Really it’s exactly what she should’ve expected. And there’s something so final about this moment, like the last flicker of a candle that had burned in secret. Paige hadn’t even realized she was still holding out for something but as she drags her eyes away from the seats and towards her father and brother who are practically vibrating with pride, she can feel the tautness of the string that she’d held onto. Because she hasn't told them; hasn’t told anybody about the breakup. 
Something about vocalizing it had felt just a little too real and Paige had evaded any potential situation that would warrant her having to reveal the tirth. But it hits her now, looking at those damn empty seats that should've been -in another life would’ve been- filled by her other family, that the words she’d been too scared to say out loud -for fear of them being enshrined into reality- had already probably been spoken into existence by someone else. And it hits Paige now, that maybe she’s desperately holding onto a rope that has already been let go of. 
“You good Bueckers?” she whirls around to find Arike looking at her, eyebrows raised in concern. 
“I’m fine,” Paige lies; she’s gotten so incredibly good at that, “just thinking a lot of thoughts.”
Arike nods in understanding, “fair enough. But you got this dude,” she reaches out a hand to squeeze her rookie’s shoulder, “whatever you’re thinking, when you get on that court, none of it’s gonna matter. All that matters for 40 minutes is the game and that we come out of it with a win. You gonna help us win Paige?”
“That’s the fucking plan,” Paige smirks, earning her a matching one from Arike before the shooting guard saunters onto the court, ready for tip-off.
All that matters is the game. 
Paige sucks in a deep breath, letting herself look over at the courtside seats one more time. This is her reality now. There’s no point in waiting for a regretful phone call or a surprise midnight knock on her door because it’s not going to happen. She feels a sense of hollowed acceptance as she finally turns away from the seats, plastering on a confident smile as she takes her place in the Dallas Wings starting five. And Paige is faced with the same truth that she’d learned at a far too young age; that people would leave her but the game never would. 
***
Dallas wins the game by 17 points. Paige’s statline is 21 points, 6 rebounds and 8 assists with 2 steals and a block. It’s a respectable statement from the rookie and her teammates are overjoyed. She’s surrounded by them as they celebrate winning their first game of the season and there’s a sense of hopeful excitement about how the rest of the season could go. Her eyes go over the top of them to find the cute Dallas local reporter that Paige had befriended shooting her a congratulatory wink and she blushes a little bit, looking away bashfully. In the distance, Paige can make out a small crowd of people decked in custom Wings #5 jersey, whistling in excitement. Despite the home fans, their celebration still echoes around the stadium and the loudest cheer comes from her brother who stands next to her father, both of them beaming with pride. And It’s almost enough to prevent her eyes from wandering back to the empty courtside seats. Almost. 
***
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. With the quick transition from the college season into the draft, Paige hadn’t had found time to go home inbetween. And so when the Wings had been making hotel arrangements for DC, she’d opted to stay with her dad and Drew in Maryland instead. But as she stands in the doorway to her bedroom, staring at a wall filled with pictures that are an ode to the past - collages that are practically a shrine to her broken relationship- Paige finds herself longing for the cold, unfeeling exterior of a foreign hotel room. 
Paige’s life can be split into two parts. There’s the Before Azzi and then there’s the With Azzi. And the truth is that there isn’t much from the Before Azzi left in Paige’s life. Every inch of her current life has been touched by the brunette, illuminated by her presence and now, it’s tainted by her absence. Especially in Maryland. Since she’d met the Virginia native, the DMV area had always been synonymous with the Fudds for Paige and she can’t remember a time when she’d been here -when she’d been in this bedroom- and not had plans to see them- to see Azzi. 
She takes a hesitant step inside, eyes gliding over each photograph and it’s like she’s being transported through time. The memories are as vivid as ever, bursting with color as they ellipse her mind. Paige can picture every moment like she’d lived it yesterday. She can still hear their laughter echoing through the air, can feel the softness of their hands -their bodies- brushing against each other, can still taste the lingering sweetness of their lips meeting halfway as they breathed silent promises against each other’s skin. 
A silent sob wracks through Paige’s body as she brushes her fingers over the most recent image of them from December -the last photograph she’d had time to print out. It’s one that Drew had taken of them in the kitchen- Paige propped up on the counter and Azzi in between her legs, one hand on the counter with the other resting right against Paige’s heart. Neither of them had even noticed the little boy, too wrapped up in each other; they were in their own world like they often had been. Azzi’s head is thrown back in laughter -probably at some ridiculous joke her girlfriend had cracked- and Paige has that goofy - just for Azzi- grin on her face as she gazes at the brunette with nothing but adoration. 
The picture is from barely six months ago but they look so young to Paige, so innocent, so naive, so fucking happy, so completely unaware that in a couple of months, one hesitantly spoken word would dissolve that happiness into a puddle of rubble. 
No. 
She thinks that one simple word is destined to echo through her ears, like that unpleasant screech of nails scratching against a chalkboard, for as long as she still has the ability to hear. Paige hadn’t even really heard it at first; it had been said so softly, so quietly, so brokenly and she’d barely seen Azzi’s lips move. For the briefest moment she’d tricked her mind into believing it was just the sound of the wind around them. But then there it was again. 
Louder. 
Stronger. 
No.
Paige’s hands instinctively clasp around her ears, fingers tangling tightly through her blond hair, because she can still fucking hear it. Here in this bedroom, where every corner still holds a little part of Azzi -holds a little part of them- the sting of rejection is louder than it’s been since it had first hit. Because it’s not just the pictures. It’s all the little pieces of them they’d left scattered over Christmas break, thinking they’d come back to it together.
 It’s a set of Azzi’s earrings -one Paige vaguely remembers picking out for her when they’d gone shopping a couple of weeks before- placed delicately on Paige’s dresser. It’s the pink sweater -that neither of them are sure who it originally belongs to but like most of their clothes, is basically a shared item at this point- haphazardly thrown over a chair. It’s that stupid book they’d started reading together -Paige lying across her girlfriend’s lap, toying with her curls as Azzi read the story out loud- still lying on the nightstand, waiting to be finished. 
Despite being alone in her room, Paige finds herself rapidly shaking her head. Because she can’t do this. Can’t spend a night in this room that had barely ever been just hers, had always felt more like theirs. She can’t sleep on that bed, no when her last memory of it is being tangled in the sheets with Azzi on a cold wintry morning, their legs intertwined with each other as they’d giggled to themselves in between languid lazy kisses. And maybe it’s pathetic of her but she can’t find it in herself to unmake the bed, not when her last memory of the two of them in this room is her leaning against the wall, shamelessly checking out her girlfriend as Azzi neatly made the bed, chiding Paige for the nth time on the importance of tidiness. 
“When are you gonna learn how to make your bed,” Azzi had sighed. 
Grinning, Paige had wrapped her arms around her girlfriend from behind, slotting her face into the crevice of Azzi’s neck and brushing her lips against the patch of skin, “I know how to make my bed. I just never have to because I’ll always have you to do it for me.”
Except for the last few weeks, Paige has had to make her own bed and she fucking hates it. 
Breathing sharply, Paige slowly backs out of her bedroom, gently pulling the door shut. She leans her forehead against the cool mahogany frame, trying to calm herself down. There’s been a nonstop dull ache in her chest since that night but tonight feels different, like the cold hands of the past have managed to dig under her ribcage and squeeze her heart  -something sharp digging into her arteries- so hard that it hurts just to exist. Paige gives herself a couple more seconds, creating half-moons as she digs her nails into her palms, before she finally pulls away from the door, heading towards her brother’s room down the hall. 
“You know you really should start knocking before you come into my room,” Drew says with a mock annoyance that’s betrayed by his large grin, as Paige slips into his room, “I’m almost a teenager.”
Despite the heaviness that’s still lingering between her lungs, Paige suddenly finds it a lot easier to breathe. Her little brother’s bedroom is dark, save for red LED lights and dim glow of the TV. Drew is reclined on his bed, gripping a white gaming controller between his hands. 
“You’re always gonna be a baby to me Drewski,” she teases, stepping towards him to ruffle his hair, laughing when he ducks her hand and shoots her an irritated glare in response. 
“Not the hair,” he whines and then groans as his eyes flicker back to the screen, towards the game he'd been playing, “damnit Paigey you just got me killed.”
“Hey hey hey, don’t blame me for your incompetence,” Paige chides. 
Drew rolls his eyes, before reaching over to hand over the other controller, “you wanna play?”
Paige shakes her head, gently pushing his hand away, “nah I just-” she chews at her bottom lip, shuffling her feet with uncharacteristic nervousness, “I was just uh- just wondering if I could stay in here tonight? We could have a sleepover? Like old times? Just you and me.”
It’s heartwarming the way her little bother’s eyes light up -like he’s still the little boy that used to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, not almost a teenager who’ll eventually be taller than her- as he nods excitedly, scooching over to give his older sister space on his bed. Paige crawls gingerly onto the bed, hesitating for a second, before she lays her head on her brother’s lap, curling into herself. Drew is warm and inviting and familiar and for a second she almost forgets that serrated pain shooting through her nerves. But then it all comes rushing back and Paige has to swallow harshly to keep herself from giving into the fresh new set of tears that are re-emerging on her waterline. 
“Paigey,” Drew whispers softly as he runs his finger through her delicate blonde hair, clearly sensing something’s wrong, “are you okay?”
“I’m fine Drew,” she means to keep her voice strong but it comes out as broken as she feels. 
“Paigey,” the little boy’s voice is more worried now, “should I call Azzi?” 
This time the whimper escapes before Paige can stop it as she tightly closes her eyes. She knows her brother means well; knows that Drew doesn’t really remember Paige without Azzi- doesn’t remember a time before his sister knew how to heal without the brunette’s touch. He’d watched Paige celebrate all her victories with Azzi and he’d seen the same girl hold his sister in all her tragedies, putting her back together every time she broke with promises of you’ll have always have me. From the moment Drew was old enough to understand his sister’s feelings, he was also perceptive enough to understand that Azzi was always what she needed, no matter how she was feeling. And it’s still true, Paige thinks; she wants nothing more than to say yes, wants nothing more than for Drew to call Azzi, so Paige can tell her how much she fucking misses her- how much she fucking needs her. 
Perhaps it's pride or maybe it’s fear, but Paige doesn’t say what she wants. Instead she vigorously shakes her head in her brother’s lap, “n-no it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s late and Azzi’s busy-”
“Azzi’s never too busy for you,” Drew says indignantly, “I’m gonna call her.”
“Drew stop,” Paige’s voice is much firmer this time as she wraps a strong arm around her little brother’s knee, stopping him from moving, “we’re not calling Azzi.”
She could tell him now. After all, she’s going to have to when he inevitably asks why he hasn’t seen Azzi -why he hasn’t seen the girl who’s been a part of his life for more than half of it- in so long. But even though the words sit scratchily on the tip of her tongue, she still isn’t quite ready to spit them out; isn’t quite ready to confront reality. 
“Why not,” petulance coats Drew’s tone. 
“Because I’m fine and I don’t need- I don’t want to talk to her,” Paige lies. 
The little boy scoffs, “you always want to talk to her.”
He doesn’t know the way that simple sentence turns the cracked pieces of Paige’s heart into dust as she tightens her grips on his leg, “Drew please- please just let it go.”
“Why,” Drew argues stubbornly, “why can’t we call her.”
“We just-” Paige’s voice breaks, as she scrambles to wipe her tears before they can wet her little brother’s shirt, “we just can’t okay?”
And there must be something in her voice -the anguish that no amount of trying is able to hide- that Drew pieces together to understand that this isn’t a battle he can win, no matter how much he and Paige might both want him to. The young boy slowly droops his body back to its reclining position, his fingers returning back to Paige’s hair as he begins to stroke her head again. 
“It’s gonna be okay Paigey,” he whispers with all the hopeful innocence of a blissfully naive little boy, “everything gonna be okay.”
And god does Paige want to believe him. But the courtside seats were empty tonight. And she’s in the DMV with no plans to see the Fudds- to see Azzi. And she’ll never know the ending to that stupid book on her bedside table. 
She wants to believe Drew but Paige isn’t sure how anything’s ever going to be okay again. 
***
May 2033 
It should be a joyful moment -the three most important people in her life congregating together- but instead as Paige quietly observes the scene in her living room -Drew silently seething, Azzi fidgeting nervously with her thumbs and Stephie babbling away amidst it all- she feels suffocated by this heavy gray cloud of apprehension lingering above her head. If she’s honest with herself, she’s been on edge for a couple of days now, since training camp had begun to be precise. Since she’d moved to the Bay Area, everything else in Paige’s world had been eclipsed by Azzi and Stephie. The mother-daughter duo were all-consuming and if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been more than happy to let her thoughts -and her heart- be consumed by nothing but the two of them. 
It had been so easy to forget everything else and the tentative verbal three-way deal she technically had with the Valkyries and the Liberty had pretty much ceased to exist in her thoughts. That is until Angie Davis -the lynchpin in this agreement- had been selected, just as everyone had predicted, to the Valkyries. The Stanford PG had shown up to training camp with a shy smile and an eagerness to learn that all the rest of the vets on the team had warmly embraced. But all Paige saw in the girl was the ticking time bomb of a decision she’d forgotten she’d have to make. And it isn’t just the reminder of the decision that has Paige feeling at unease; it’s why she has to make this decision in the first place, the reason behind why she’d agreed to this deal in the first play, why she’d been so adamant for Talia to make sure she didn’t get stuck here. 
Eight years ago, Azzi Fudd had broken her heart and Paige has spent every moment since, trying to collect the shattered pieces and reassemble them. 
And the last thing Paige had wanted to do was give Azzi the hammer to smash her barely fixed heart again. 
That’s what it had felt like when Talia had first brought up the Valkyries offer. It wasn’t that she and Azzi hadn’t been in each other’s orbit the last couple of years -it was impossible not to- but since the breakup, they’d never been around each other long enough, never quite been in the right situations, for that opportunity to present itself again. But Paige had known that if she came to the Valkyries, it would be an inevitability. That belief had only been strengthened the day she’d visited the Bay Area. She’d been adamant from the second she’d gotten on the flight that she couldn’t be persuaded to join Golden State, no matter how much she respected the organization and how well she’d fit into their system; no matter how much she adored the city and its love for her favorite sport.
But then she’d met a little girl who had an identical smile to the one that had held her captive since she was fifteen and barely knew what love was. And if Stephie with her doe-eyed wisdom that Paige would look great in purple wasn’t enough, then there was Azzi. Paige had expected Azzi to tell her to decline the offer. In a way that’s what she wanted; the masochistic need to feel the sting of that rejection again so she wouldn’t be tempted to burn herself in the fire again. But the brunette had done the opposite and Paige had known by just how quick her resolve had succumbed, that she’d been right to fear the inevitability. And it was that fear that had prompted the verbal agreement with the Liberty; an escape plan she’d forgotten she’d devised. 
Because escaping had been the last thing on Paige’s mind the last few weeks. 
All of Paige’s fears and apprehension had seemed to take a backseat the moment Azzi had smiled -hesitant but real- and said she was ready to try, the moment Stephie’s tiny hands had fit perfectly into her own. 
But she can feel it all coming back now, bubbling to the surface and threatening to spill over like lava, wiping out this paradise she’s been in with Stephie and Azzi. It had started with the reminder of the Liberty deal but it’s Drew’s presence -his scowl directed at Azzi that feels like one of a brother still betrayed on his sister’s behalf- that had heightened it. Her little brother’s anger, and the genuine hurt that lingers behind it, feels like a dark reminder of Paige’s own heartbreak. 
Suddenly she feels like she’s 23, playing her first WNBA game and instead of celebrating a solid debut, she’s sobbing in her little brother’s lap over the girl who had walked away. 
“Miss Buecks,” Paige looks down to find Stephie crawling into her lap, “are we ready to order the pizza now?”
The little girl’s arms wrapping around her neck eases some of Paige’s discomfort as she smiles down at Stephie. 
“I’ve been ready for ages. You were the one yapping away,” she teases. 
Stephie pouts, “I don’t yap,” she turns her body towards Azzi, “Mama I don’t yap do I?”
Azzi’s own tense body seems to relax a little as she smirks at the two of them, “you definitely yap Stephie-”
“Mama,” Stephie protests, looking betrayed. 
“But not nearly as much as your Miss Buecks yaps,” Azzi’s eyes twinkle with mirth as Paige splutters, jaw dropping open with mock offense, “between the two of you, it’s a miracle my poor ears haven’t fallen off.”
“Just for that I’m not adding veggies to the pizza,” Paige sticks her tongue out, causing Stephie to giggle and Azzi to roll her eyes at the display of immaturity. 
Paige slips out her phone, pulling up their usual pizza place on doordash and quickly plugs in her memorized orders for everyone in the room as Stephie gets herself comfortable on the blonde’s lap. The five-year old leans her head back against Paige’s chest, who instinctively wraps her free hand around Stephie’s waist, keeping her securely in place. 
“So uncle Drew,” Stephie says with a grin, slightly leaning forward as she addresses the man sitting rigidly on the edge of the sofa, “did Miss Buecks yap a lot when she was younger too.”
“Be careful how you answer that,” Paige warns with a good natured glare in her brother’s direction, trying to lighten his mood. 
It works to an extent as a small smirk slips onto the edges of Drew’s lip, “oh she was a chronic yapper.”
“What does che-ronic mean?” Stephie asks, scrunching her nose in confusion.
Drew laughs, eyes glittering with mischief, “it means she didn’t know when to shut up.”
“Drew Thomas,” Paige guffaws, “you’re supposed to be my little brother, protecting your older sister’s honor and all of that.”
“Hey,” Drew raises his hand in surrender, “my older sister taught me to never lie, especially not to children.”
“Did you really talk that much?” Stephie asks, turning to Paige with wide eyes. 
“Don’t listen to him Stephie-bean,” the blonde says, brushing her hands through Stephie’s curls, “it’s all bullsh-”
“Paige,” Azzi hisses immediately as the older woman bites her lip to stop the curse word from escaping. 
“Bullsharks,” Paige amends, “fake news. False advertising. I was a calm and quiet kid for sure.”
Drew snorts, leaning back into the sofa and Paige lets out a soft sigh of relief at seeing her brother relax. Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, feeling a sense of calmness when she sees the younger girl’s nervous fidgeting has stilled and there’s a tentative smile on her face. 
 “You weren’t calm or quiet,” he says pointedly. 
“Was too,” Paige argues stubbornly. 
“Yes you were,” Drew presses, “Stephie if you don’t believe me, ask your Mama,” he turns to Azzi, “tell her Azzi. She literally yapped your ear off into becoming your friend.”
Azzi blanches, clearly shocked at having been so cavalierly addressed, and even Paige is a little surprised by the expectant “agree with me look” that Drew is giving the brunette after having spent the last moments practically glaring at her. But really it probably shouldn’t be that surprising. Because Drew and Paige are cut from the same material and letting Azzi into the folds seems to just come naturally to both of them. And it’s so familiar to when they’d all been years and years younger -two college students and a little boy - so familiar to the countless nights spent in Minnesota and DC and Connecticut where several silly arguments like this between Paige and Drew had ultimately ended with them both turning to Azzi -the forever moderator- in hopes that she’d side with them. 
She’d always sided with Drew -much to Paige’s chagrin, though she’d been secretly enamored by the relationship between her girlfriend and her brother- and this time is no different as Azzi shakes off the shock, replacing it with a cheeky expression. 
“Didn’t shut up for 14 whole hours,” she laments, her voice filled with teasing but she smiles at the blonde as if she’s reminiscing it, reminiscing the moment that began it all for them and Paige can’t help the hopelessly sappy smile she gives her in return. 
“14 hours? You talked for 14 whole hours, Miss Buecks?” Stephie’s eyes are comically large as she echoes the number. 
“Of course not,” Paige defends, eyebrows creasing as she glares at the other two adults in the room, “this is bullying. Stephie,” she whines, nuzzling her head into the little girl’s neck, “they’re ganging up on me.”
“There there Miss Buecks,” Stephie says diligently as she pats at the older woman’s cheek. 
“We’re just telling the truth,” Drew shrugs. 
“Exactly,” Azzi nods solemnly, “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
She grins, reaching her hand out for a high five and Paige watches as Drew raises his own hand, ready to reciprocate. For a second it feels like everything is coming together; like the past could just stay in the past. But then he stops midair. The easy smile fades from his face and the previous tautness comes rushing back. He pulls his hand back, turning away from Azzi, who’s face slowly falls back. The lightheartedness from mere seconds ago is replaced by the tension from before and that burden of all that’s happened between us returns as a heavy weight pressed against Paige’s heart. 
“Paigey used to yap a lot,” Drew says slowly, “like I said you couldn’t get her to shut up and then one day,” he pauses, angry eyes darting towards Azzi, “one day she just got quiet- she shut up- she stopped yapping all the time.”
“Why?” Stephie asks softly, her tone a mixture of concern and genuine curiosity. 
Paige’s arm tightens around the little girl in her lap as she shoots her brother a pleading look, “Drew-”
“Because someone-” there’s so much venom in the word that it makes Azzi visibly flinch and Paige wants to soothe away the creases forming in her forehead, “someone broke her heart. And it took years- it took years to get her back to normal, to get her yapping again. To get my sister back to who she was.”
There’s pindrop silence as Drew seethes at his own words and Azzi rapidly blinks back tears, until Stephie turns around in Paige’s lap, tiny hands cupping the blonde’s face as she tries not to let her emotions show in front of the little girl. 
“Someone broke your heart?” Stephie looks so upset by the idea that Paige wants to vehemently deny it, “how could anyone break your heart Miss Buecks?”
She means well -just a child concerned for one of her favorite people- but she has no idea of the dagger she’s just twisted in her own mother’s heart as a faint whimper escapes Azzi’s lips. Paige opens and closes her mouth, hopelessly looking at the brunette who’s digging her fist into the sofa, despair embedded all over her face. 
“Stephie-” Paige tries to say. 
“Don’t worry kid,” Drew cuts in instead, his voice steady and firm, “it happened once but I won’t-” his eyes burn with fire as he looks at Azzi, “I won’t let it happen again.”
“Stephie,” Paige says quietly after a moment, her gaze transfixed on Azzi whose doing her absolute best not to let her emotions show in front of her little girl, “sweetheart how ‘bout you show Uncle Drew around the house.”
“I don’t want to see the house,” Drew says petulantly as he stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest
“Yes. You. Do.” Paige grits out, trying not to curse when her younger brother rolls his eyes at her. 
“C’mon Uncle Drew,” Stephie says cheerfully as she slips off of Paige’s lap and reaches a hand out for the man instead, “Miss Buecks has a really cool house and maybe we can go steal some of her cool clothes.”
Drew sighs but he’s not immune to Stephie’s infectious energy. A hint of a grin sneaks through the cracks as he accepts the little girl’s offer. Stephie starts to pull him towards the staircase but the perceptive girl stops for a second in front of her mother, a cautious look on her face as Azzi musters up a grin to mollify the little girl's concern and Drew adamantly averts looking at the other woman. 
“Go on bean,” Azzi urges softly, keeping her shaky voice under control, “go show him the house.”
Stephie nods before gently pressing her lips against Azzi’s cheeks, eliciting a deep breath from her mother, before she practically drags Drew towards the staircase, already speaking a mile per minute.  
There’s a pause, filled with a combination of the quiet rumble of Stephie blabbering upstairs and Azzi’s uneven breathing. Then the tears that the brunette had been trying so hard to barricade behind her eyelids starts cascading down her cheeks and Paige almost trips on her own feet as she moves towards her. She falls to her knees in front of Azzi, gently brushing her against her cheek, before wrapping her hands around her tightly formed fists. 
“Baby don’t cry. Please I hate it when you cry,” Paige whispers softly, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s, “he’s just-”
“He’s right,” Azzi cuts her off, shaking her head. 
“Az-”
“He hates me-”
“He doesn’t-”
“He does,” Azzi presses, her tears falling faster now, “and he should. Paige I did break your heart,” they both flinch at the blunt statement, “and he doesn’t trust me because of it and he hasn’t forgiven me for it. I haven’t forgiven me for it.”
“Baby,” Paige echoes again, unsure what else to say. 
“Have you forgiven me?” 
The question lingers in the air as Azzi looks expectantly at her and Paige stumbles over her words, trying to find the right ones. She doesn’t really know how to answer the questions; hadn’t been expecting to be confronted with it tonight. Paige wants to say yes; she wants to take away Azzi’s guilt so fucking bad. These last few weeks had been so perfect, Paige had convinced herself she was over what had happened almost a decade ago. But if she’s honest with herself -if she’s honest to the memories of every night she’d spent sobbing into her pillows, missing the girl in front of her and resenting her for walking away- Paige doesn’t really know if she has forgiven Azzi. 
“Paige?” Azzi ask again, her voice breaking on the one syllable. 
Paige’s face crumbles as she looks at the girl defenselessly, “ Az, I-”
The doorbell rings at the exact moment and Stephie comes excitedly barrelling down the staircase as the two women scramble away from each other, trying to compose themselves. 
“Miss Buecks, Mama,” the younger girl hollers, “pizza’s here.”
Paige looks at Azzi who’s rushing to wipe away the remnants of her tears. She opens her mouth, desperately willing herself to find something, anything that could offer the girl in front of her some comfort; that could take their relationship away from the precipice of this cliff they’ve somehow found themselves on. But the right words don’t materialize and instead Paige closes her mouth and turns away, slowly heading towards Stephie as Azzi’s question continues to wreak havoc in her mind. 
And she wishes she could rewind the clock and freeze them where they had been just a couple of hours ago, freeze them in a moment where the past hadn’t weighed so heavily on the present. But perhaps the past had always been there and they’d simply just done a marvelous job ignoring it. Except tonight, they can’t seem to ignore it anymore. 
***
Paige thinks pizza has never tasted so terrible in her life. The mood at her basically unused dining table is numbingly sober; even Stephie has stopped her chatter, the little girl clearly picking up on the tense atmosphere around her as she quietly nibbles away at her slice of pizza. It’s in stark contrast to the innumerable dinners they’d had in the last three weeks; the three of them -Paige, Azzi and Stephie in between them- at the table or the counter or sometimes even the couch, raucous with laughter and smiles. Paige doesn’t understand how moments can shift like this; how last night could have been filled with giggles and grins and tonight is filled with nothing but a silence filled with too many unspoken words.
Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, who’s making a concerted effort to keep her own everted from both Bueckers siblings. The brunette’s question from before feels like a loud horn blaring in Paige’s ears, one that she can’t seem to find the off-switch for no matter how hard she searches for it. They’re barely a couple feet apart, sitting opposite each other with Drew next to Paige and Stephie next to Azzi, but the width of the table feels like it stretches for miles. Paige misses the warmth of Azzi’s body pressed against hers, misses the sly brush of their hands before their fingers would inevitably curl around each other’s underneath the table where Stephie couldn’t see. 
“Miss Buecks,” Paige swallows, trying to shake off the feeling of is this us crumbling again, as she diverts attention to Stephie who’s smiling at her with that cheeky grin that means she wants something. 
“What’s up Stephie-bean?” Paige asks and she’s convinced there’s magic in the little girl’s existence because despite the tightness she still feels in her chest, having Stephie close feels like a reason for her to breathe through it. 
“Can I have a soda?” Stephie asks, using the palm of her hands to frame her slightly tilted face as she juts out her bottom lip in a pleading. 
Paige grins, ready to concede as she often is with the little girl but Azzi speaks first, “no soda Stephie.”
Stephie pouts, “why not?”
“Because I said so,” Azzi says bluntly and Paige is taken back by the sharpness of it. 
“Mama please,” Stephie begs, “please, please, please.”
“No Stephie,” there’s a warning edge to Azzi’s tone but Stephie doesn’t pay much heed to it continuing to plead and the irritation on her mother’s face -clearly exacerbated by other things- gets more and more apparent. 
“Please Mama. Pizza just doesn’t go down right without soda,” the little girl argues, “can I please just have a little bit. Just a teeny tiny bit Please, please pretty please please-”
“Stephie, no” Azzi repeats, pinching the bridge of her nose as Drew and Paige exchange nervous glances. 
“Stephie, yes,” the little girl argues, stubbornly crossing her hands over her chest. 
“Ste-”
“I want soda. I want soda. Please, please, please, plea-”
“I said no Stephanie,” Azzi all but yells, startling Stephie into being quiet and making both Drew and Paige flinch. The little girl is wide-eyed for a second -not used to anything but her mother’s normally gentle way of dealing with her occasional brattiness- before her lips begin to tremble and big fat tears begin to spill down her cheeks. She scrambles out of her chair, beelining towards Paige and climbing onto her lap as she burrows her face into the blonde’s neck, wetting her shirt with tears. 
“Shhh, shhh sweetheart it’s okay,” Paige whispers to the little girl, gently rocking the two of them back and forth as she strokes her hair. 
She glances at Azzi, who’s adamantly looking, her face stone cold but regret gleaming in her eyes, “Az-”
“No,” the younger woman says immediately. 
“C’mon,” Paige says exasperatedly, “you don’t even know what I was gonna say.”
“If it’s about giving her a soda, I don’t wanna hear it,” Azzi warns, “you can’t just give into all of her demands all the time, you have to learn to say no and she needs to learn to hear it.”
“I hear you but Az it’s a Friday-”
“Paige-”
“A tiny bit of soda to start the weekend can’t hurt. In fact,” Paige smirks down at the little girl in her lap as she coaxes Stephie’s face out of her neck so she can wipe away the tears on her blotchy red face, “I think a little soda to start the weekend is probably good for you.”
She feels her heart soar when it makes Stephie giggle, letting out a couple teary hiccoughs in between as she clutches onto Paige. 
“I think so too Mama,” the little girl echoes, looking back at her mother with a timid grin. 
“Give in Azzi,” Paige matches the pleading smile on Stephie’s face as she turns her focus onto the brunette, “she deserves a little treat 
“I know what she deserves. I think I know what’s good for my daughter,” Azzi says steely and Paige feels something cold squeezing through her ribcage, “no soda Stephie. End of discussion.”
My daughter. 
The thing is Paige doesn’t even really think she has the right to be upset over Azzi’s statements. Really, it’s nothing but the truth. Stephie is Azzi’s daughter and Azzi definitely knows what’s good for her daughter. So why does it sting like this? Why does it feel like little shards of ice piercing into her heart, leaving deep gashes that have her whole body feeling like it’s freezing over? Paige knows why, knows that these past weeks had been enough to trick her mind into believing the mirage that Stephie was hers. But now Azzi’s flicked her fingers against it causing the whole fantasy to come crashing down and Paige feels herself slowly getting buried under the rubble of it. 
“Right," she says softly, trying to keep her voice steady, “she’s your daughter and you know best,” she ignores the tinge of guilt in Azzi’s eyes as she turns to Stephie who looks like she’s ready to protest again, “you heard your Mama Stephie. No soda tonight.”
“But Miss Buecks-” Stephie whines. 
“No sweetheart,” Paige says gently, shaking her head. 
The little girl narrows her eyes before letting out a frustrated groan as she slips off of Paige’s lap. She loudly stomps her feet, glaring at all the adults in the room before she angrily storms upstairs. It’s so unlike the usually even-keeled little girl that Paige thinks it’s probably a reaction to the tension she can sense between the adults. Her eyes drift over Drew -who’s chewing at his lips in a similar manner to how his big sister often does- before locking with Azzi’s and she feels that familiar guilt of there’s always collateral damage for our mistakes pooling at the pit of her stomach. The brunette breaks eye contact first, letting out a heavy sigh before she follows behind her daughter and Paige lets her face fall into her hands, 
It feels like everything’s in free fall, like during an earthquake when everything shakes and the books -the complicatedly tangled stories of the past and present- go flying from their shelves. Paige rubs at her eyelids, trying to make this helpless feeling go away. Her fingers are coiled tightly around a rope, just like they had been on that night eight years ago and just like that night, she can feel the tips of them starting to bleed. She can feel Drew’s gaze fixated on her; can tell he’s contemplating whether to say something or not. Swallowing, Paige pulls her face out of her palms to look at her brother, a decisively defiant expression on her face. 
“Something you wanna say?” she asks him, cocking her eyebrows as if she’s daring him to speak. 
Drew hesitates for a second before an almost identical expression crosses his face, “what the fuck are you doing Paige?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Paige replies airly. 
Drew narrows his eyes at her, “seriously?”
“Seriously,” Paige shrugs. 
“This was supposed to be a temporary arrangement Paige,” Drew says, ignoring the way his sister flinches at the reminder as he drops his voice lower so they can’t be overheard, “you were supposed to be with Golden State for one season, hopefully win a championship and then you’d be off to New York at the end. That was the plan but clearly all of that has gone flying out the window. You’re getting attached to this city, this life, to them.” 
A barely believable “of course I’m not,” flutters weakly off of Paige’s lip as she blinks rapidly at the accusation. 
“Oh for fucks sake,” Drew curses, “Paige your bed looks like it hasn’t been slept in, in days. There’s almost no groceries in your fridge or your pantry. From what I saw of the garden, it’s basically been left for dead. Your closet is half empty and it sure as shit isn’t because they’re all in the laundry because as Stephie puts it, Azzi says that their laundry basket is three times heavier than it used to be with all your clothes.”
“I-I don’t-” Paige stutters, “that- that doesn’t- doesn’t mean-”
“It’s been two months -if even that- two months Paige and I think you're in even deeper now than you were the last time,” Drew spits the last two words out bitterly like their flames on the tip of his tongue and the sparks of it singe Paige’s skin. 
“That’s not- I’m not-” she tries to justify but it sounds hollow to her own ears. 
“You are,” Drew says exasperatedly, “what are you gonna do when she walks away again? When she lets you go again, what are you gonna do Paige?”
Her little brother isn’t cruel but Paige swears she’s never heard anything more aimed to hurt than these perfectly directed arrows he’s launching straight at her heart. The defense of she’s not going to leave me stays stuck in her throats, battling against the harsh thoughts of she already has that are taunting her. 
“She- I- you- this- I don’t- you can’t-” Paige doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say; she feels like a fish spluttering outside of the water, desperate to breathe air that seems to kill her the more she inhales it. 
Drew looks away, his face crumpling slightly, a mixture of sadness and guilt gleaming in his eyes, and Paige can tell that he hates himself a little for being the one to cause her this torment, the one to make her face the darkest possibility of her reality. 
“I was there Paige,” he says softly, “I was the one who watched you break in ways that I didn’t even think you were breakable,” his voice snaps, “and I was the one who watched how hard you had to work to put yourself back together. I don’t wanna see any of that again.”
“Drew,” Paige whispers. 
“And it wasn’t just her,” Drew continues, “you lost her family too.”
Paige gulps at the reminder, “they were still there. They came to games. They were at my wedding.”
Drew shakes his head, “but it wasn’t the same and you know it. You lost her and you lost them and this time,” he bites his lip, like he wishes the next words weren’t sitting on his vocal chords, waiting to spill out, “this time, if you lose her, you’ll lose a lot more.”
“What do you-” Paige heistates, unsure if she even wants to ask, “what do you mean?”
Her little brother pauses, mouth opening and closing like it’s painful to speak, before his eyes drift towards the stairs and Paige feels her heart sinking even before Drew says the words she knows he’s about to say. 
“You’ll lose her daughter. You’ll lose Stephie.”
“No,” the whispered syllable is out before Paige can even stop it, “no, no, no, no-”
“Paige-”
“Stop it Drew,” the blonde says louder than she wanted to as she clutches at her heart, trying to keep it whole as the tears overflow over her waterline. 
“Stop what Paige? Stop saying things you already know deep down but are choosing to ignore? Is that what you want me to stop doing?” Drew asks harshly. 
“Drew-”
“There’s a reason you didn’t want to commit to the Valkyries and you know it. There’s a reason you only wanted to be here for this season.” her younger brother says firmly. 
“I know,” Paige whispers, “I know.”
Drew’s eyes soften, “stick to plan Paige. Let the Liberty be the end goal. You’ll be in New York by the end of October.”
Paige bites her lip so hard, she can taste that morbid taste of iron on her lips as she opens her mouth to say something. She’s not sure if it’s to argue with Drew or to agree and she doesn’t get a chance to find out. Instead there’s a sharp intake of breath and then a quiet, timid voice laced with accusation and Paige feels the blood drain out of her body as she slowly turns around to find Stephie and Azzi -their faces ashen with identical expressions of betrayal- staring at her. 
“Miss Buecks, you’re moving to New York?”
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