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shy-writer-999 · 3 months ago

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Summary: Ace deserves the nastiest, sloppiest head possible, and (afab) reader certainly delivers. ~2k words. CW: Oral, pet names (among others, "princess").

WARNING: MINORS DNI, NSFW CONTENT.

Ace’s hands are everywhere, all at once. First, he’s grabbing your ass by the fistful, then he’s rolling your nipples between his fingers, grabbing your hips, then your waist, cupping your cheeks. Between each harsh suck on your neck, he says something dirty. He knows that you’ll get riled up.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I can’t get enough of you. ‘m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk. Wanna make you feel so good. Wanna feel your tight little cunt squeeze me like you always do.” The effect of each word is an exponential increase in your arousal.

He wanted to get you riled up, and now you are. He’s talking big game about fucking you until you can’t walk but you have a feeling that in a few minutes it’s going to be him who can’t walk—and you think so because you’re about to suck the soul out of his dick, like you always do.

“Can’t wait to fuck you until your eyes roll back in your head, baby. Wanna feel you cream on my cock so bad.” Ace pulls you into a kiss and you have to hold back a smirk at his last remark. He can keep talking big game, but you’re about to shut him up.

“If you say so, Ace.”

He’s about to ask you what you mean by that, but before he can get the words out, you get on your knees. One look up at him and he knows exactly what’s about to happen. Ace sits on the edge of the bed. He figures he might as well be seated for the show—he knows it’ll be a good one.

You start to pass your hands over his thighs, playing with him a bit. He’ll never get used to watching you down there. When you start leaving soft kisses on his inner thighs, he gets goosebumps; he knows he’ll have to hold on for dear life. Your skills are unmatched.

You tease Ace with kisses up his shaft and when you reach his tip you take a second to look at him. He’s a sight for sore eyes. His muscles are tensed up, abs hard, freckles as darling as ever. His cheeks are flushed and he’s holding his breath—he’s counting down the seconds until you take him in completely.

But not yet. It wouldn’t really be a show if you skipped first act, right?

You take your time and lick from the base of Ace’s shaft to the tip three times, agonizingly slow. He reaches down to tangle his fingers in your hair. He knows he won’t be allowed to do any head pushing yet, though. So, he waits his turn.

He takes a deep breath and reprimands himself internally. There’s no point in being impatient.

On the fourth pass of your tongue upwards, you draw a circle around his tip, scooping up the precum that’s seeped out of his slit.

“Fuck.” He knows what’s coming.

Your lips form a pretty O-shape, latching onto Ace’s cock as you begin to take him into your mouth, centimeters at a time. His cock is long, so it’ll be a while before you’ve taken all of him. It’s just so fun to tease him, so what’s the point in rushing?

Ace’s cock twitches as you take all of him, finally. When he’s bottoms out, your mouth feels hot, slippery, and soft around him. You let him sit there for a few moments while you reach a hand up to cradle his balls. It’s enough to elicit another muted “fuck” from him. You can picture his face perfectly right now, fully engrossed and eyes locked onto to top of your head.

You begin to pull him out of you at a rate comparably slow to the one you took him at. He knows you like to see him get worked up but, fuck, did you really have to do it this much?

You pull him out of your mouth just enough that your lips are still suctioned around his tip. You pause and look up at him, meeting eyes. You raise the hand not cradling his balls to grasp around his shaft. Your fingers squeeze his length and stroke him a few times. He’s speechless—you just get better every time. It’s unreal.

When you’ve stroked him to your heart’s content, you take him full again, this time pressing down so his tip pokes the back of your throat. One hand is still grasped around the base of his cock and the other plays with his balls. He can feel you increase the suction.

“Fuuuccckkkk.”

He’s been teased enough, and he’s been good, too. No complaining or whining like usual. Since he’s been so good, he deserves a treat.

You unexpectedly pick up the pace rapidly. Your hand twists and strokes as you bob up and down on his cock.

Ace quickly becomes undone. “Oh my god, fuck, babe.”

His thighs are starting to tense up—this is the precursor to his thighs full-on shaking, and that’s exactly what you’re going for.

You adjust the depth of his cock, the suction of your cheeks, the speed of your hand on his shaft, and how tightly your grip his balls; each noise he makes tells you what you’re doing right and what you’re not doing enough of. You know his body like the back of your hand, and you can decipher every small signal he gives off.

One particularly guttural groan lets you know that it would feel better if you sucked harder, and another low raspy one lets you know that the pressure on his balls feels just right.

Your hands are covered in your own spit and you can taste Ace’s salty precum oozing onto the back of your tongue. A nice moan on his cock ought to do it.

You let out a muffled sound, reminiscent of a moan, and he squirms because it vibrates him. He’s getting louder. “FUUUCCCCKKKK.”

Ace starts to writhe under your touch and his fingers are pulling your hair taut. He’s going to start pushing your head down in a second.

“You’re takin’ me so well, fuck. Just—feels so good, fuckin’ your throat, oh my god,” his string of words is broken by a loud, deep groan. He’s becoming a mess, much like your hands and face.

The sloppy clacking noises of your hands and lips on his cock are starting to drive him insane. “S-s-suckin’ my cock so well, pretty. Feels so fucking good, bobbing on my cock like a—fuuuucckkkkk.”

Ace can hardly get a word out now. He can’t focus on anything other than your lips, tongue, hands, throat, mewls—all of it. He’s totally lost in pleasure.

He starts to push your head down on his cock, forcing himself in your throat. You gag on him, letting out a sort of choking noise that drives him fucking feral.

“Fuck, that’s it. Feels so good, I—fuckkkkkkkk,” he’s starting to babble like the fucked-out mess he is. His thighs are starting to shake, his head is thrown back in pleasure, his nose and freckles are scrunched up and he’s panting. In between his groans and grunts, the occasional whimper and whine slip out.

He’s loud. When he’s completely overcome by lust he becomes a rabid animal. He couldn’t control himself if he tried.

“Fuck, fuck, gorgeous, fuck, I’m—I’m gonna cum, feels too good.”

You pause and look up. He sure looks like he’s about to cum. But where would all the fun be if you didn’t make him wait for it some more? He’s had a little too much fun. Time to remind him that you’re the one in control.

You pull him out of your mouth slowly and as soon as you start doing it, he knows exactly what’s about to happen. He lets out a desperate whine. “Fuck, please, no. Please.”

He’s begging you to keep sucking him off. But when you look up at him like that, with your entire face and both hands glistening from your own spit and your hair ruffled from his calloused hands, he knows he should shut the fuck up. He stuffs the next complaint back down his throat and takes a deep breath to steady himself.

You smile at him and his heart melts. The desperation in his tone gives way to admiration and he offers you a smile of his own. “You’re so fucking beautiful, it’s crazy.”

That’s all you needed to hear before you take him again, deeper this time. His hands are keeping your hair out of your face now, pulling it back so it doesn’t get in the way. In mere seconds he starts groaning with as much abandon as he first was.

“Fuuucckkkkkkk,” his brows are pinched in the middle and he’s heaving his breaths. “Feels so fucking good, princess.”

You hum on his dick and the sensation makes his thighs tremble particularly aggressively. He’s going to cum soon and you can tell.

When Ace gets to the point of climax he’s practically screaming. He can’t help it—getting head from you feels too good.

“I’m gonna cum,” he whines. “Fuck, I’m almost there.”

You nod your head, looking up and making eye contact. His expression is simultaneously tortured and blissed out. He knows that he can let go.

Your hands twist and pump his shaft as you take him up and down at breakneck speed. You’re covered in precum, spit, sweat, anything you can think of. It’s dribbling out of the corners of your lips. You’re breathing through your nose as well as you can. Every little gag or choke on his dick, every miniscule shift of your tongue drives Ace closer to the edge.

With one last hum, he’s shooting sticky hot ropes into your throat and moaning your name so loud it can be heard within a half-mile radius. Not like you’d change that, though. Those noises he makes are so hot that you’re dripping arousal down your own thighs. Maybe he’ll clean that mess up after he’s done cumming down your throat.

You swallow every last drop of Ace’s cum, a feat that he will never grow tired of. He’s euphoric from the last ripples of his orgasm, letting off a chorus of “fuck,” and “oh my god,” and “that felt so fucking good.”

His hips shudder upwards into your mouth for a few last moments before he goes limp with a deep exhale. When you’ve finally pulled Ace’s cock out of your mouth and are sitting there with your hands and face covered in spit, he’s grinning.

“Fucking hell, babe.” He leans down and kisses your forehead, petting your hair. He cups your cheeks and looks at you with love. “You’re amazing.”

You know he’s speaking the truth, but it’s nice to hear anyway. When you stand up, Ace does too. He scoops you up and carries you into the bathroom. You sit on the counter while he gets a washcloth and wipes down your face and hands. The whole time, he sings your praises. “Wow, sweetheart. Best head I’ve ever gotten. You’re fucking fantastic.” He peppers your face with kisses between each loving word.

Every time you suck his dick, it’s the best time he’s ever gotten head. For some reason, you keep out-doing yourself. It’s hard not to, though, when he falls apart like putty any time your lips are wrapped around his cock.

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ shoutout to the anon who requested this!! spectacular detail:

i wanna give ace the shloppiest, best, godlike head EVER. like him being all tough n stuff and then being absolutely RUINED by the reader. and hes also REALLLLY LOUDDD😭im so unwell i wanthim .. anyways pls pls PLS make tihs :3 it can be afab reader or gn reader tyyy

also, now that day 1 of my "kinktober" is done, here's my masterlist and my schedule for October! One last thing~

Trick or treat?

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azzifuddfanpage · 10 days ago

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testing the waters

OKAY NEW PAZZ FIC THANKS TOO 😛 ANON

There would not have been a fic if it weren’t for their amazing prompt so bless 😍

^if u wanna read their prompt look at my last post

themes: friends to lovers/ fluff

tw: SMUT

Azzi walked through the doors of Gampel Pavilion. She had just gotten to campus not even an hour before and was already having her first meeting with the team.

Azzi stood by the back with the other freshman. Still getting adjusted to the thrill of the change in atmosphere.

Standing on the court was unreal. Azzi turned her head admiring the bleachers and banners that lined the walls. She took in all the greats that came before her, all names she knew and studied growing up. She couldn’t believe that she was finally here, hopefully going to follow in their footsteps.

Azzi listened carefully as Geno’s voice carried through the walls.

“This team that is here right now is one that will never be the same again. This year, with this team, this is temporary. Next year there will be new people, seniors will be gone, and the team will be a whole new team again.” He paused scanning the room eyeing the freshman.

“You will value every moment you have with this team, build your chemistry now or it will be too late.” He continued pacing along in front of the group.

Azzi felt someone’s hand brush against her wrist and a warm gentle breath draw close to her ear.

“Don’t worry he is all talk. He’s not this scary all the time- well actually maybe just try to stay on his good side.” Azzi knew this voice.

She turned her head slightly coming face to face with Paige Bueckers. She actually hadn’t prepared herself for how close they would really be, accidentally turning and even feeling Paige’s breath on her lips. Azzi’s face flushed and she tried to play it off backing up and giggling.

—-

Her and Paige went way back. Paige was even one of the reasons she went to UConn in the first place.

They had been best friends since 2016 when they met playing for team USA. All it took was one plane ride back to Minnesota and they were best friends for life.

Azzi always had loved Paige. Her laugh, her smile, her long blonde hair, her big blue eyes, her pink lips… just normal best friend type of stuff. But as she got older she started to feel differently about Paige. About girls in general.

Azzi had always liked boys- well she liked watching movies about them. Love and basketball was her favorite movie- “I want that type of relationship.” Azzi would say, almost convincing herself.

The thing was, she never really knew if she actually ever had feelings for a guy before. Yes she thought they were attractive. In a world where she personally knew Steph Curry, who wouldn’t think guys were attractive. But the thing was, whenever she pictured a future it never included a guy. Infact Azzi would picture herself alone before she would picture herself settling down with a guy.

Her and Paige even talked about living together jokingly as high schoolers in a purely innocent way.

“If we both don’t find someone by the time we are thirty- I’m gonna have to just marry you.” Paige said with a laugh. Azzi laughed but her laugh never went deeper than the surface. She would have given anything to live with Paige, to marry her, to spend the rest of her life with her. Things would have just been so much easier.

But what did any of that even mean. Paige was just her best friend. Her beautiful, talented best friend, her hot as fu-. Azzi didn’t really finish that thought. Shutting it down before she could let herself admit what she deep down knew already.

—-

“Ya I don’t know about that he seems pretty serious.” Azzi whispered back looking up and gulping when she saw Geno look at her while he spoke.

Paige reassuringly squeezed her wrist, sending butterflies down Azzi’s stomach. Actually they felt more like bald eagles than butterflies to be honest.

—-

An hour later after he was done talking they had a few hours to go back to the dorms before their offseason weight room.

Since Underclassman were not allowed to have cars on campus- Azzi being a freshman and Paige a sophmore decided to walk back to the dorms rather than hitching a ride with the others.

“So… what do you think of the campus so far. It’s awesome, you can say I was right and thank me whenever.” Paige said confidently as she watched Azzi scan the surroundings wide eyed, and taking everything in.

“Ya everything is so much bigger. I’m gonna need an extra hour to get from class to class at this point.” Azzi replied with a laugh.

They continued walking going about their day as usual.

Azzi was excited for this new life at UConn, she looked forward to it. But something about the way Paige looked at her left her wanting more.

As the day turned to night everyone retired to their rooms.

After what felt like forever of just laying in bed unable to sleep Azzi sat up.

12:30 AM Azzi read on her clock next to her. She flopped back down defeatedly.

Azzi had never been away from her parents for more than a day, every team USA tournament her parents went to. She never didn’t have someone to tuck her in.

“Not even 24 hours and I miss my mommy like I’m a five year old.” Azzi whispered to herself.

It may have been better if she had a roomate but no such luck. Her roomate, Ines was an exchange student meaning she would be flying in the next week instead of this one, meaning Azzi was stuck alone.

She couldn’t hide the tear that slipped out of her eye. She could hear people talking down the hall. Her teammates maybe-hopefully.

She climbed out of bed, wearing her black tank top and pink boxer shorts and made her way out of her room. A little down the hall she saw Paige.

Her blonde hair was unmistakable. Her laugh echoing down the long hallway.

Azzi started to walk towards her when suddenly she got a glimpse of the person she was talking to.

The girl was probably one of the prettiest ones she had ever seen- paige was prettier- and she had thick brown curls like Azzi, and tanned skin a bit lighter than Azzi’s.

Azzi watched from a far, the pit in her stomach increasing at the way the girl reached out and squeezed Paige’s arm as she laughed.

Azzi began to turn to head back down the hallway, not wanting to make herself feel any worse than she already felt, and ended up walking right into a lamp.

The sound of the lamp colliding with the floor made Paige shift her attention down the hall where she saw…

“Azzi? Is that you?” She said confused as to why the freshman was up this late when she knew she always went to bed rather early.

Azzi froze in her tracks, picking up the lamp and setting it back on the table. Wiping off her tears, she turned slowly.

“Hi Paige.” She muttered just loud enough for her to hear.

She watched as Paige said bye to the girl and they both walked as she walked down the stairs to leave.

Azzi could feel her heart pound as Paige walked closer towards her.

“Why are you awake.” She checks her phone. “It’s 12:30! You should have been asleep like 3 hours ago huh.” She said softly.

Paige notices the wet streaks on Azzi’s cheek.

“Baby are you okay?” Paige said wrapping an arm around her back.

Azzi shivered at the nickname, that alone was enough to make Azzi forget everything that she was worried about. Forget being homesick, Paige was her home.

“I’ve never slept by myself before.” Azzi admitted.

Paige knew exactly what she meant. Azzi had always been a homebody, now states away from her parents, she was homesick.

“Oh shit I forgot you don’t even have a roommate either right?” Paige said looking at her and running her fingers through her hair lovingly.

Azzi shook her head.

“Let’s get you back to bed.” Paige said walking her back to her room with her hand resting low and protectively on Azzi’s back.

As Azzi climbed back into bed, she attentively watched Paige’s every move.

“Paige?” Azzi asked as Paige reentered her room with a glass of water.

“Ya.” Paige said handing it to Azzi and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Can you stay with me. Just for tonight.”

Paiges heart jumped.

“I’ll stay with you everyday until Ines gets here how bout that?” Paige said standing up and kissing her forehead.

Azzi melted into her touch. She could get used to that.

Azzi nodded watching paige walk over to the other mattress, that had nothing on it.

“Sleep with me.” Azzi said.

Paige raised her eyebrow smirking.

“OH MY GOD PAIGE!” Azzi shrieked throwing a pillow at her head, which Paige of course caught.

Laughing Paige climbed into the small twin size bed with her. They were basically on top of each other, but they tried to keep their hands to themselves- for now.

—-

As the nights went by they started growing closer. Their touches were more affectionate as they lingered. Azzi even woke up the third day with Paiges arms wrapped around her waist, her shirt had risen and Paiges hands were dangerously close to her breasts. Azzi couldn’t shake the feeling that she actually liked it.

“Why the fuck do I want my best friend to touch my boobs?” Azzi said with shock, trying to push it to the side and just let Paige cling to her.

—-

It was finally the weekend. This Saturday they had the day off.

It was around 11:00 and Paige and Azzi were both in her bed.

“Hey wanna watch a movie? We don’t have to be up early tomorrow.” Paige said turning to Azzi. “I brought my iPad.” She said grinning.

Azzi giggled, “only if we can watch frozen.” She said.

Paige sighed pulling it out and propping it against a pillow.

“Whatever you want princess.” She said laughing.

Azzi was praying to god that the purple led lights masked the red glow of her blush.

It was getting harder and harder for her to hide her feelings for Paige. She was so confused. She was striaght though. Definitely straight. Right??

—-

Halfway through the movie Paige got up to grab some snacks.

Paige was wearing just a sports bra- literally no clue why- and Azzi could literally feel her heart beating, maybe something else too but she couldn’t pin point it.

Embarrassingly enough Azzi was a virgin. She hadn’t told anyone, no one really asked either. It wasn’t that no one liked her, she simply just didn’t feel the need to be with anyone like that.

“Why would anyone want to suck someone’s dick that’s just nasty.” Azzi could not understand it for the life of her.

But now with Paige, she would give anything to feel her fingers inside her…. Maybe she was just finally starting to want to have sex. She was just confused it wasn’t fine.

As paige reentered the room her breath shifted. The pants paige was wearing had hung even lower- showing the outline of her V-line, and she had two waters in her arms. Azzi’s attention immediately scanning up and down her body and then focusing on the vein bulging out of her bicep.

“Like what you see.” Paige smirked making her way over to Azzi and setting down the snacks and waters that were saying down her pockets.

Azzi felt her heat spread to her cheeks.

“Sorry I just-“ she honestly had no idea how to cover that up.

“It’s okay I get it. I have been hitting the weight room.” Paige said wrapping her arm around Azzi laughing as she could feel her tense up under her touch.

Paige always had thought Azzi was straight but now she wasn’t so sure.

Azzi had never once talked about her love life. And the way she had looked at her the other day when paige was with another girl… the pieces were starting to connect.

A little while later, paige started to get curious, wanting to test her theory out. She began to move her hand a little lower on Azzi’s side.

She listened to the rise and fall of Azzi’s breath, listened to it speed up as her hand began to move onto her thigh traveling closer and closer inward.

Paige “coughed” accidentally brushing in between her legs causing Azzi to let out a soft moan. Azzi tried to cover it up with a cough but it was too late.

Paige leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

“You like it when I touch you princess? Thought u were straight- I should’ve known a pretty girl like u would want something better than a man.” Paige growled causing Azzi to tense up completely caught off guard by her assumption.

Azzi had never told anyone this, she had no idea how Paige was able to see through her so easily.

“Paige I am straight, what are you talking abo-“ she was caught off by another one of her own gasps as Paige ran her hand back around and placed it on her upper ass.

“See the way you look at me. You sure bout that?” Paige said confidently moving her hand so she was rubbing Azzi’s back through her clothes.

Azzi’s breath hitched feeling Paiges long fingers slip under her shirt and explore higher on her back.

“You seriously mean to tell me you don’t feel anything when I touch you.” Paige said smirking as she continued to rub her back in a way that left Azzi’s mouth watering in desire.

“I- I- don’t know. I don’t know what it feels like.” Azzi replied at a low whisper secretly hoping Paige wouldn’t hear it.

“What do you mean? Are you saying you have never had sex before?? What’s a pretty girl like you doing still a virgin.” Paige said honestly her hand stopping and staying rested on her back.

“I don’t know just never found the right person I guess. I just don’t know what I am, I can’t tell if my feelings are real or not.”

“We’ll have you ever thought about it.” Paige said simply.

“Thought about what?” Azzi asked innocently not sure where this conversation was going.

“About having sex…. I’m sure you have thought about it at least once.” Paige replied.

“I mean I guess kinda but I don’t even know anymore I just feel like my brain is playing tricks on me.” Azzi said shaking her head.

Paige turned Azzi’s face to look at her by grabbing her chin gently.

“Wanna test it out?” Paige said experimentally.

“What do you mean test it out.” Azzi asked confused.

“Paige brought her hand to the front of Azzi’s shirt gently moving it up towards her breasts over her clothes, avoiding them but paying all the attention to them at the same time.

“I mean why don’t you just try it, like get it out of your system, fuck me and then I gaurentee you will know exactly how you should be feeling.” Paige leaned closer into Azzi’s ear grabbing her by the front of her shirt.

“I will make you feel better than anyone else baby.” Paige whispered seductively. Azzi could feel something wet between her legs. She couldn’t explain it, it was feeling she had never really had before.

Without thinking about what this would mean, Azzi nodded.

“Let’s start slow, hm? Ease you into it.” Paige said softly.

Azzi nodded, she trusted paige more than anything. If paige could show her what she needed to know, then why not.

With that, Paige brought her lips so they were hovering just above Azzi’s.

“Let me know when you feel something.” Paige said suggestively right before connecting her lips to Azzi’s.

There was no turning back now. Both girls sinking into the kiss. Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi’s back grabbing at her ass, and Azzi instinctively stabilized herself by grabbing Paige’s neck.

The kiss grew quickly. Azzi let out soft moan telling paige exactly what she needed to know. The second Azzi opened her mouth again letting out a soft whine against paige’s lips, paige shoved her tongue inside her mouth.

Azzi moaned into her mouth feeling Paiges tongue fight against her own. Paige really knew what she was doing.

Both girls worked to get closer to each other, causing paige to lay down on top of Azzi, sticking her leg in between hers. As the kiss quickened, paige moved her knee and pressed it against Azzi’s core causing her to let out a shrill moan.

She had never been touched like that before, paige knew just how to make her feel seen. No one had ever taken care of her needs like this before.

As Azzi began to get more comfortable and grind down on her knee desperate for some friction, Paige pulled back from her.

“You feel anything yet?” Paige said giggling as she could see just how dilated Azzi’s eyebrows were desperately in need of her touch.

“Yes a little.” Azzi admitted focusing down on paige’s fingers that rested on her thigh.

Paige noticed this and smirked, she started to move her fingers closer to Azzi’s center.

“Only a little?” Paige said slyly. “That’s a shame, I thought I felt a little something myself.” Paige said suggestively leaning forward into Azzi’s ear causing her breath to hitch.

“And I really wanted to know what my fingers felt like inside of you.” Paige said smirking against Azzi’s ear.

Azzi couldn’t resist it anymore, grabbbing paige’s collar and pulling her back to her lips.

As Azzi’s tongue filled paige’s mouth, she heard paige let out a tiny soft moan.

“Need you so bad. Show me please. Teach me.” Azzi whined running her hands along paige’s bare abs.

Paige smirked knowingly.

“So needy for me huh.” Paige said reaching down so her thumb was now directly on Azzi’s pussy. She started to rub at it blindly through her clothes.

Feeling Azzi thrust towards her she looked into her eyes.

“Can I take these off baby?” Paige asked not looking away from her big brown eyes begging to be fucked.

Without a word Azzi lifted her but so paige could pull down her shorts and panties in one sweep.

As the air hit her slick she felt nothing but fear and embarrassment. She tried to close her legs, suddenly afraid of what this would mean for her, but paige caught them keeping them apart.

Azzi looked into paige’s eyes and saw nothing but love as paige eyed her pussy hungrily. She laughed. Oops.

Paige looked up at her laughter.

“What’s so funny.” Paige asked confused.

“Nothing it’s just ironic. I think I have had a crush on you this whole time and now hear you are literally staring at my pussy the way I have stared at you all these years.” Azzi answered smiling.

Paige smirked running her hands up her inner thigh, leaning forward to press a kiss against her. Azzi moaned.

She placed another kiss equidistant to the last one.

“I-“ paige started, then left another kiss, sucking a bit harder this time.

“Have felt-” continuing and leaving another kiss.

“The same-“ going back in one more time right above her mound.

“Way.” She finished settling so now she was just hovering over her pussy.

“Don’t just love this pussy tho.” Paige winked right before diving in to attack her clit with her tongue licking a long stripe up her starting from the entrance of her hole and ending at the bundle of nerves. Azzi moaned loudly tugging at paige’s hair, partially from the love confession, and also from the feeling of paige’s powerful tongue attacking her clit.

Azzi couldn’t contain her moans as paige sucked and nipped at her clit pullljngbvack and spiting into it spreading the mixture of spit and cum around her clit with her fingers before sliding one of her fingers teasingly into her hole.

Azzi thrusted forward greedily, needing to feel paige as close to inside of her as possible.

“Baby relax” paige started “lemme show you why gay is better.” She finished before shoving a finger into Azzi.

Azzi’s eyes widened and she propped herself up on her elbows so she could see paige ponding the finger into her and simultaneously using her thumb to rub at her clit in small circles.

“You’re so tight holy fuck.” Paige said as she added another finger leaving Azzi gasping and moving one of her hands to pull paige towards her to kiss her.

Paige swallowed her moans continuing to feel around her cervix with her finger as it went in and out, the wet squishing of Azzi’s cum against paige’s fingers filled the silence of the room.

Pulling back from the kiss paige resumed her focus on her pussy, attaching her tongue to her clit and sucking as she pounded in and out of her.

Paiges middle finger brushed against her g spot causing Azzi to let out a loud breathy moan, arching her back shoving her pussy into paige’s face.

Motivated by Azzi’s actions, paige pulled back again from her clit, using her thumb to rub it up and down, separating her folds to expose the pink center of her clit.

“Prettiest pussy in the world. She loves me.” Paige whispered as if talking to her pussy.

Azzi sat up to look again as paige slowed down, when all of a sudden paige used one of her hands to press down on Azzi’s lower stomach making her feel like she was about to pee, and her with her other hand that was thrusting two fingers in and out of her, she slipped in a third, barely fitting it in Azzi’s tight cunt.

Azzi moaned watching the way her pussy sucked in her fingers so naturally.

As paige leaned back down to her clit, three fingers still pounding into her with power and force, the pressure of paige’s tongue against her was almost too much.

“Paige I’m gonna cum oh my god.” Azzi moaned throwing her head back.

“You can cum for me baby.” Paige said against her pussy the vibrations sending her over the top as she could no longer hold back anymore, streams of cum pouring out of her and paige stuck her tongue out drinking it all up.

Paige slowly worked her fingers getting her through the climax as Azzi was left a heap of tears and moans, still very out of breath. The warm sensation still tingling in her pants.

“Welp I’m definitely gay.” Azzi said with a laugh as paige joined her on the bed.

“Thank god, I have been waiting to hear you say that for fucking years.” paige said turning to her.

“Really?!” Azzi said surprised that who she now realized was her childhood crush had felt the same way for all these years.

“Damn we really have been waiting time not trying this sooner.” Azzi continued, laughing as she saw the paige’s mouth still glistening in the lights with her cum.

“Well I guess we will have to just make this a daily thing then huh.” Paige said smirking pulling Azzi closer to her.

“Maybe tomorrow I’ll show you how to eat me.”

“How about now.” Azzi said confidently flipping them over so paige was back on top of her, where Azzi shimmied down so paige’s cunt was directly above her.

Pulling her shorts and panties to the side, she got right to work.

#azzi fudd #pazzi #paige bueckers #pazzi fic #pazzi fics

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rosyrosethings · 3 months ago

Text

Man Eater/Siren Y/n.

Y/n is a the girl every man desires and Harry can't resist her.

Disclaimer: I feel like a lot of writers make Y/n a little insecure girl and I know everyone has insecurities. But idk about yall but I feel like the I can have any man I want(sometimes) so I really enjoyed writing this. Hope you guys like it.

Warning: smut, cheating, sub harry, dom reader

4.5k words

Harry stood by the drink table, swirling the ice in his glass as he half-listened to Dan go on about his latest project. His mind was elsewhere, drifting back to Jane, who had opted to stay behind, nursing a cold. She'd insisted he go without her, to enjoy Mitch's birthday, to relax.

But relaxing had been impossible the moment he felt it—her presence. His body had sensed Y/N before his eyes had. A wave of heat and energy swept over him, tightening his chest, and without even thinking, he glanced toward the entrance.

There she was.

The woman he thought he had moved on from, the one who could ensnare any man with just a look—Y/N. Her dark skin seemed to shimmer under the dim party lights, her long legs accentuated by a dangerously short skirt. Her hair cascaded effortlessly down her back, swaying as she moved through the room, her smile dazzling as she greeted familiar faces.

"Harry? You okay, mate?" Dan’s voice snapped him out of his trance.

Harry blinked, turning his head sharply. "What?"

Dan chuckled, following Harry's gaze. "Oh, yeah... beautiful, isn't she?" That was the effect she had on men. Sometimes Harry wished he never met her. The power she held over him was unreal. Even Dan calling her beautiful had him feeling a bit possessive

Harry gritted his teeth, feeling his heart race as Y/N hugged and mingled with the guests. Her laugh floated through the air, and Harry swore he could feel it wrapping around him like a spell.

"Excuse me," Harry muttered to Dan before heading for the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and leaned against the sink, gripping the porcelain edges tightly. His reflection stared back at him, his jaw clenched. Get it together, Styles, he thought. Don’t let her lure you in again.

It had been months since they last saw each other, months since they last… messed around. He would text her, no response for hours even days but whenever she texted him. He would respond immediately. If she called for him he would jump.

Jane was everything stable, safe. But Y/N? She was wild, unpredictable. A siren, pulling him deeper whenever she was near.

He took a deep breath, splashing cold water on his face. He couldn't let himself get caught in her orbit again. Not tonight.

When he finally left the bathroom, the air felt charged, his skin tingling with anticipation. He weaved through the crowd, heading straight for Mitch. He needed something—anything—to distract him.

"Mitch, mate, happy birthday!" Harry exclaimed, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Thanks, man! Glad you made it," Mitch replied, smiling.

They chatted easily, Harry grateful for the reprieve, until—

“Happy Birthday, Mitchell!" a familiar voice cut through the conversation.

Harry froze.

He turned just in time to see Y/N wrapping her arms around Mitch in a tight hug, her voice sweet as honey. She was the only person who called him Mitchell, a nickname she'd coined ages ago. Mitch didn't seem to mind; in fact, his grin widened as he hugged her back.

"Thanks, Y/N," Mitch said with a chuckle, patting her on the back.

"I got your gift. It's over on the table," she said, pointing behind her. "Didn’t know where else to put it."

Mitch barely had time to respond before someone else called his name from across the room. "Sorry, guys," he said, excusing himself. Sending Harry a sympathetic look before walking away.

And then, it was just Harry and Y/N.

"Look who it is," Y/N said, her voice dripping with playful mischief, her eyes sparkling as she smiled at him.

Harry felt a lump form in his throat, her gaze drawing him in like it always did. She tilted her head slightly, as if daring him to speak.

But he couldn’t move. Not yet. The memories of their last night together—the heat, the tension, the way her touch lingered far longer than it should have—flooded his mind, clouding his judgment.

"Long time, no see," she said, stepping closer, her presence commanding all his attention.

Harry swallowed hard, trying to muster the willpower not to fall under her spell again. But the pull was undeniable. She was electric, like pure fire, and he, once again, was the moth drawn to her irresistible flame.

He forced a smirk, trying to seem casual despite the chaos swirling inside him. "Didn’t think I’d see you tonight. Thought you were off traveling."

She shrugged, her smile lazy and seductive, never wavering. "I was. But Mitch's birthday is special, you know? And besides… I always find my way back."

Her words lingered between them, heavy with a meaning he couldn’t ignore.

"Where’s that little girlfriend of yours?" she asked, her voice soft but pointed, her gaze locking onto his. Every time their eyes met, it was as though her power seeped into him, coiling around his thoughts. He could feel the familiar tug, the way she seemed to unravel him with just a glance.

So he looked away, pretending to scan the room.

"Jane couldn’t make it," Harry said, clearing his throat, the weight of her name like an anchor tethering him to some semblance of control. He hoped it would be enough to ground him.

Y/N’s smile faltered, but only for a fraction of a second, something darker flickering behind her eyes. She stepped closer, leaning in just enough for her voice to lower, teasing him. "Shame. I guess it’s just us, then."

His heart pounded, the sound of it deafening in his ears. He kept his eyes fixed on the crowd, avoiding her like he was running from a storm he couldn’t outrun.

"Uhh… so, how are things?" he asked, his voice dry and brittle. It was the only thing he could think to say, a flimsy attempt to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters.

"Things are okay," she replied softly, her tone suddenly casual, as if the tension between them hadn’t just spiked. "I’ve been around the world, but I think I’m staying put for a while."

There was something about the way she said it that made Harry’s stomach twist. He was about to respond when her voice dropped, the concern in it almost unnerving. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

Her question threw him off balance, her concern cutting through the haze in his mind. "Just a bit parched. I’m going to grab a drink," he muttered, stepping to the side, desperate to escape her gravitational pull.

But before he could slip away, her hand wrapped around his arm, firm but gentle. The touch was electric, sending a jolt through his body, forcing him to look at her. He met her eyes, and for a moment, he was lost all over again. Maybe a drink could help him relax.

"Can you bring me something, too?" she asked, her voice soft but commanding, her gaze locking him in place.

His breath hitched, his mind spinning. The look in her eyes was hypnotic, and no matter how much he tried to resist, he couldn’t pull away.

"Yea, I can do that." He said, his nerves getting the best of him. He made his way to Mitch kitchen. Quickly grabbing him some water to help deal with the tension he could feel building. He looked over to see look at her again. Seeing another man already talking to her. His jaw clenched it was no time wasted. It was always like this with Y/n. He could tell that the man was offering her a drink but she denied making eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. He could see her implying that Harry was getting her a drink. Harry grabbed a glass filling his with scotch. Needing something strong to deal with this. Filling Y/n a can of lemonade. She hated the taste of alcohol. Pouring her lemonade in a cup so she gives off the appearance that she is drinking. Which is what she likes. Harry remembers every detail about her.

Harry made his way back to Y/n. Stepping beside the random man.

"Here you are love." He said with a smile handing her the drink. Adding the 'love' almost like he's claiming his territory. He knew he shouldn't be behaving this way. But he hated how attractive she was.

"Thank you Harry." She said with a smile. The guy looked between them. Taking a hint before walking away. Y/n didn't even notice too focused on her newest victim.

Y/N raised the cup to her lips, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she took a sip. Harry stood beside her, his pulse quickening as the man who had been lingering near her quickly took the hint and left. He wasn’t sure if it was the scotch in his hand or the tension that had been simmering all night, but he felt a surge of possessiveness he couldn’t shake.

"You didn’t have to scare him off, you know," she teased, glancing up at him through her lashes, her voice smooth and low.

Harry raised an eyebrow, forcing a nonchalant smirk. "Scare him off? I didn’t say a word."

"You didn’t have to." She leaned in just slightly, her eyes locking onto his, her lips barely brushing the rim of her cup. "It’s like you claimed me in front of him, Harry. Didn’t think you’d still care that much."

His grip tightened around his glass, his mind spinning as her words hung in the air. He took a sip of his drink, letting the burn of the scotch fuel his response. "I don’t care," he lied, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. "Just didn’t want you to get stuck with some guy who’s not worth your time."

She laughed softly, the sound sending a wave of heat through him. "Is that so? And here I thought I could handle myself." Her eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was something more beneath the surface, something that felt like a challenge.

Harry felt the tension building again, the same magnetic pull between them that he had been fighting all night. He knew he should walk away, keep his distance, but there was something about her that always drew him back in.

"Maybe you can," he said, his voice softer now, his gaze flicking down to her lips. "But it doesn’t hurt to have backup, does it?"

Y/N tilted her head, studying him with a look that made his heart race. "You offering to be my backup now?" she asked, her voice dropping lower, teasing. "I remember a time when you’d jump at the chance."

Harry swallowed, trying to steady himself. "Things change."

"Do they?" She stepped closer, her body brushing against his as she whispered, "Because it feels like nothing’s changed at all."

He felt the heat of her body, the scent of her perfume filling the space between them. His breath caught in his throat, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of which involved Jane or any sense of control.

"You really should stop looking at me like that," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

"Like what?" Y/N asked, feigning innocence, but her eyes betrayed her. She knew exactly what she was doing, and Harry hated how good she was at it.

"Like you know exactly what’s going on in my head," he replied, his voice thick with tension. "Because I’m trying really hard not to—"

"Not to what?" she interrupted, stepping even closer until their faces were just inches apart.

"Not to fall for your game again," he admitted, his voice hushed, almost like a confession.

Y/N smiled, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of his collar. "Who says it's a game?" she whispered, her lips dangerously close to his ear. "Maybe I just missed you."

The words sent a shiver through him, and he couldn’t stop the way his body reacted. His hand instinctively reached out, brushing against her waist, pulling her closer. He was losing the fight, and he knew it.

"I don’t believe you," Harry said, his voice low, but even as the words left his mouth, they felt weak.

She laughed softly, a sound that felt like it wrapped around him, teasing him, pulling him in deeper. "Then don’t," she whispered, her lips brushing against his jaw. "But you’ll stay anyway. You always do."

Harry closed his eyes, his mind screaming at him to stop, to pull away, but he couldn’t. The way her body fit against his, the way her breath felt warm against his skin—it was all too much.

"You’re impossible," he muttered, his voice strained, but his hands were already on her, pulling her closer.

"You love it," she teased, her eyes flicking up to meet his, a challenge dancing in their depths.

For a moment, they stood there, the tension between them crackling like electricity, neither of them willing to break the spell. It was dangerous, playing with fire like this, but Harry couldn’t resist her. He never could.

"I should walk away," he said, though his hands remained firmly on her hips.

"Then why don’t you?" Y/N whispered, her voice sultry and daring as she leaned in, her lips barely brushing his.

Harry's breath hitched, the fire between them burning hotter by the second. He knew he should walk away, but the pull was too strong. "Because you won’t let me."

Y/N smiled, her fingers tangling in his hair as she closed the distance between them, her lips grazing his in a soft, tantalizing kiss. "Exactly," she whispered against his lips, and before he could think, he was kissing her back, their bodies melting into each other like they had been waiting for this moment all night.

The kiss was slow at first, testing the waters, but it quickly deepened, the heat between them rising as all the restraint he had been clinging to shattered. Harry’s hands roamed over her back, pulling her closer as if he couldn’t get enough of her, as if he needed her to breathe.

It was everything he had been trying to resist, and now that he had her in his arms, he didn’t want to stop.

"See?" Y/N murmured against his lips, her voice breathless and full of satisfaction. "I always find my way back."

Harry’s phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibration cutting through the haze of desire that clouded his mind. He broke away from Y/N, breathless, blinking as though he’d just woken from a dream. The air between them still crackled with tension, but the sudden intrusion of reality jolted him back. He glanced down at the screen.

It was Jane.

His heart raced for a different reason now. Guilt settled in his chest as he quickly looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed. But no one was paying attention. The room hummed with casual conversation, and he realized they had tucked themselves into a corner, mostly hidden from view.

"Hold on" he muttered to Y/N, his voice low, his throat tight. He stepped away from her, feeling the weight of her gaze on his back as he moved toward the hallway just outside the bathroom.

He answered the call, forcing his voice to sound steady. "Hey, Jane."

"Hey, baby," Jane’s voice was soft, concerned. "Are you okay? I was just checking in. It’s getting late."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, his pulse still racing. He leaned against the wall, trying to gather himself. "Yeah, I’m fine," he replied, his voice calm despite the chaos swirling in his mind. "I should be home soon."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Harry could feel Y/N’s presence even before he saw her. She had followed him into the hallway, her steps slow and deliberate. His back stiffened, but he didn’t turn around. Not yet. He could hear Jane asking something, but his mind was already distracted.

Y/N didn’t wait for an invitation. She stepped closer, her breath warm against his neck, her fingers grazing the back of his shirt. Harry’s entire body tensed, but before he could react, her lips found his skin, pressing soft, teasing kisses along the side of his neck.

Harry’s grip tightened around the phone, his voice nearly cracking as he tried to focus. "Yeah… I’m still at Mitch’s. Just... just saying goodbye." His words were hurried, clipped, but he tried to keep them even, praying that Jane wouldn’t notice the strain in his voice.

Y/N smiled against his neck, her lips trailing lower, dangerously close to his collarbone. She wasn’t holding back now, her kisses deliberate and slow, her hand sliding around his waist, pulling him back into her orbit. It was intoxicating—the way she knew exactly how to play him, how to unravel him even in the middle of a phone call.

"Are you sure everything’s okay?" Jane asked, her voice tinged with worry. "You sound… off."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, his breath catching in his throat as Y/N’s teeth grazed his skin, sending a jolt through him. "I’m fine," he forced out, his voice shaky. "Just… just tired. I’ll be home soon, I promise."

Y/N’s soft chuckle was barely audible, but he could feel the satisfaction radiating off her. She was pushing him, testing how far she could go. Her hand slid up his chest, and Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound.

"Okay," Jane said, clearly still concerned. "I love you, Harry. Drive safe, okay?"

He swallowed hard, guilt crashing over him in waves. "I love you too," he muttered, his voice almost breaking as Y/N’s lips continued to work their way along his neck.

As soon as he hung up, he let out a shaky breath, his head spinning from the intensity of it all. Y/N pulled back slightly, her smirk visible in the dim light of the hallway.

"You’re playing a dangerous game," he whispered as he turned to face her. his voice rough, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You love it," she teased, her voice soft and seductive as she leaned in again, her lips just inches from his ear. "Besides, you didn’t stop me."

Harry’s breath hitched, his body still trembling from the closeness of her. She was right—he hadn’t stopped her. He could’ve, but he didn’t. Instead, he had let her push him further and further, crossing lines he knew he shouldn’t.

"I should go," Harry said, though the words barely held any weight. His body was still on fire from her touch, and despite everything, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Instead, he did the opposite. His hands slid down to her waist, gripping her tightly, pulling her closer to him, their bodies pressing together as if he needed the contact to breathe.

Y/N tilted her head, her smirk never fading, her eyes gleaming with victory. "You don’t really want that," she whispered, her hands finding their way around his neck, fingers gently brushing the nape. She pulled his face closer, their lips inches apart, her breath warm against his skin.

Her words hung in the air, thick with temptation. Harry felt like he was standing on the edge of something dangerous, teetering between falling back into the same patterns or somehow finding the strength to walk away. His mind screamed at him to stop, to go home to Jane, to salvage what was left of his control.

But Y/N’s pull was too strong. She was too close, too intoxicating.

He looked down at her, his breath shallow, the last threads of his resolve unraveling. He could see the amusement in her eyes, the way she knew exactly what she was doing to him, how she always had the upper hand.

"I hate you," he muttered, though the words held no conviction. His hands tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer until there was no space left between them. His lips hovered near hers, his body betraying everything he was trying to fight.

Y/N laughed softly, her lips grazing his ear, sending another shiver down his spine. "Mmhmm," she hummed back, her voice thick with satisfaction. She knew she had him.

And with that, Harry gave in. He kissed her again, harder this time, his lips crashing against hers as if he couldn’t get enough. There was no hesitation, no holding back, just raw, unfiltered desire. His hands gripped her waist even tighter, pulling her flush against him as they melted into the kiss, the world outside disappearing.

Harry pulled away, looking down at her. He reached behind her opening the door to the bathroom.

"Inside. Now." He said, his voice authoritative. She grabbed him by his collar pulling him in with her. Harry closed the door behind him. Kissing her immediately as she leaned against the sink. The kiss intensified behind closed doors. Harry has missed her mouth so much. She started to unbutton the shirt. Once unbuttoned her hands grazed all over her chest. Harrys lips made it way down her neck. Kissing her neck. All there movements were hungry and desperate. Her top was scoop neck no bra in sight her nipples hard harry pulled down the top revealing her small breast.his hands started pinching her nipples. Getting a small gasp from Y/n. He loved the sound of satisfaction from her. Whenever she gave him the slightest moans. It was more than enough for him.

Her hand slid his chest to the bulge in his trousers. "Ohh you're so hard already. Must have missed me?" She said with a smirk she worked the button of his pants undoing and quickly unzipping the pants before letting them fall to his feet. Once her hand grazed his dick through his briefs he felt like he was going bust right then and there. He quickly picked her up. By her ass putting her on the counter of sink. His lips found hers kissing her hungry as he grinding his bulge against her as he he kissed her. Their tongues exploring each other excessively. Her pleated skirt flipped up against his her. He let out moans. Enjoying every second of her. Grinding against the west spot between his legs. Feeling like a teenage boy who finally was able to touch a woman. He was so eager

"Take my panties off," she panted against his lips. He complied, stepping back and pulling the red lace down her legs over her red heels. leaving her skirt in place. As she took them from him, she held the soaked fabric up to his face; he buried his nose in them, inhaling deeply and savoring the scent of her arousal.

"You missed havent you?" She asked seductively , He nodded. His nose snuffed in the panties. He did miss it. Her scent was his favorite.

"Take them off." She said her hand gesturing to his gray briefs. He nodded pulling his briefs down to his ankles with his pants. He stepped closer to her. His dick grazing against her pussy. A small hiss released from his mouth. She grabbed his dick. Placing right at her entrance before he could push himself in.

"Do you want to fuck me?" She purred as his hardened tip grazed against her entrance. He nodded fervently, unable to form words with the overwhelming need coursing through him. She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Use your words, tired of the nods," she scolded, a hint of arousal lacing her stern tone.

"Yes, please," he pleaded desperately, earning a satisfied smirk from her.

"That's it, my good boy," she cooed, "come on baby."

With a soft sigh and an alluring smirk, she guided him inside her. Harry's eyes rolled back in bliss. He was lost in the ecstasy of Y/n's pleasure, craving nothing but the sweet release that only she could give him.

"My baby, did you miss my warm, wet pussy?" she purred, her hand caressing the back of his neck.

"Mmmhmm," he moaned in response. He grip tightened on his neck,

"Say it with your words," she demanded firmly.

"Yes, I missed it so much," he gasped, closing his eyes in pleasure. He craved this submission to her. Jane was a good partner, but Y/n ignited a fiery passion within him that he could not resist.

"Can your little girlfriend give you the same pleasure that I can?" she taunted with a knowing smirk. He didn't answer, instead thrusting faster and harder into her awaiting body.

"Answer me," she demanded, her grip tightening around his neck as she pinched his nipple with her other hand. The pain shot through him, but it only added to the pleasure.

He mumbled incoherently, desperately trying to answer her question. "She can't," he repeated, his words becoming more and more slurred as he lost himself in the moment. But Y/n just smiled, moving both of her hands to the back of his neck and pulling his forehead towards hers.

"You're such a good boy," she purred, looking deeply into his eyes as their bodies moved together in rhythm. The friction between them was electric, driving them both closer and closer to the edge. Harry could feel himself getting close, his release building within him.

"Are you gonna cum, baby?" Y/n whispered seductively, knowing exactly what effect her words would have on him.

"Yes, please," he groaned, still thrusting deeply inside her.

"Can I cum inside you?" he asked eagerly, desperation evident in his voice.

"Hmm, I don't know," Y/n teased, biting her lip playfully as she continued to move with him. She wanted to draw out this moment, make him beg for release.

"Y/n, please," he begged, his control slipping away from him.

"Tell me who your dick belongs to," she commanded with a sly smirk on her lips. And with that final push, Harry couldn't hold back any longer. He surrendered completely to her, letting out a guttural moan as he finally reached his peak.

The sound of their grunts and heavy breaths filled the room as they moved in perfect rhythm. "Fuckk! It's yours! Only yours!" he said, struggling to maintain a steady pace with his thrusts.

She smiled and whispered, "You can cum." With her lips still connected to his, she felt Harry release inside her, feeling his body shudder in defeat. He collapsed onto her, breathing heavily as he rested his head on her shoulder.

"You're always so good for me, Harry," she said lovingly, running her hand through his hair and placing a soft kiss on his ear. He didn't say anything in response, but the way he held onto her told her all she needed to know.

"Harry, you have to get back to Jane." She said, his dick still resting inside her. Harry's reality sinks back in. What he did. He pulled himself out of her quickly pulling up his pants. She could see the flustered look on his face.

”Harry.” she said placing her red lacet panties in his hand.

"Keep these for the next time I feel like playing with you," she whispered, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she handed him her panties. She casually fixed her hair and applied a fresh coat of lip gloss, her movements slow and deliberate. With one last teasing glance over her shoulder, she left the restroom, now panties-less, leaving Harry standing there, still burning with desire, his mind racing as he watched her disappear.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #watermelon sugar #harrys house #fanfic #fine line

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corrupte3d-mindz · 6 months ago

Text

His Angel

Possessive! Thomas Shelby x F! Younger Reader

Summary: Thomas can’t help himself when it comes to her, she gets everything she wants from him.

Wordcount: 3.4k

Warnings:

possessive! Thomas, head-over-heels! Thomas, lap sitting, kissing, soft talking, praise, lovey dovey things from Thomas.

Inspiration: Too Sweet - Hozier

The Garrison snug was thick with the familiar haze of smoke, the air heavy with the scent of whiskey and sweat. Thomas sat at the head of the table, his posture rigid yet relaxed, an oxymoron that only he could embody so effortlessly.

Arthur was mid-sentence, his gruff voice detailing the latest shipment, but Thomas’s mind was already elsewhere, drifting into the echo of his brother’s words. John, Finn, Isaiah, and Michael murmured amongst themselves, the background noise a symphony of camaraderie and business. The soft knock at the door silenced the room instantly. It was a knock they all recognized, a signal that brought an immediate hush over the group. Thomas’s eyes flicked to the door, and his entire demeanor shifted. The sharpness in his gaze softened, the hard lines of his face easing into something almost tender. He took a long and deliberate drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing bright in the dim light, before turning in his chair to face the door.

As the knob turned and the door creaked open, time seemed to slow. There she stood, framed in the doorway like a vision from a dream. Her off-white fur coat draped elegantly over her shoulders, contrasting beautifully with the dark, rich red of her dress. The dress hugged her figure perfectly, accentuating every curve with a grace that seemed almost unreal. The bottom hem brushed just past her ankles, revealing her black heels with their signature red bottoms—a custom pair made just for her by Thomas and his connections. Thomas felt a swell of emotion as he took her in. Her makeup was flawless, enhancing her natural beauty without overpowering it. The deep crimson of her lips matched the ruby drop earrings that dangled delicately from her ears, the diamonds in her dog collar necklace catching the light and adding an extra sparkle to her already radiant presence. Her hair was styled in a poodle bob, a classic look that gave her an air of timeless elegance.

He rose from his seat and stamped out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table; the movement drawing the attention of the room, but he paid no mind to the eyes on his back. His focus was entirely on her. With a few long strides, he closed the distance between them, his hand reaching out to pull her gently by the waist. As the door closed behind her, sealing them off from the world, he leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear.

"What did I ever do.." he sighed softly again, "...to get so lucky with someone like you?" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and the smell of cigarettes, whiskey as well as his natural musk he has. He tilted his head slightly, inhaling the scent of her hair—a delicate fragrance that sent a shiver down her spine. The sensation of his breath and the intimacy of the moment made her heart flutter.

She smiled up at him, her eyes full of warmth and adoration. "Maybe it’s not about luck, Tommy. Maybe it's just meant to be," she whispered back, her voice soft and melodic.

Oh, how she spoke to him; he loved it so, it always melted his cold and dark heart; tugging at his vulnerable little heart strings, oh he would do anything she ever asked him. The quiet laughter from the table behind them went ignored. Thomas was lost in her presence, the rest of the world fading into the background. He traced his fingers lightly over her waist, feeling the delicate fabric of her dress under his touch. Her skin was warm, even through the material, and he could feel her heartbeat quicken under his fingertips. He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his own filled with a mix of awe and affection. "You’re too sweet for a man like me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a rough edge to his words, a hint of the darkness that always seemed to linger just beneath the surface.

She reached up, cupping his face in her gloved hand. "But you’re just right for me," she replied, her smile never wavering.

The sincerity in her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them; his eyes filled with love as he spoke softly just so she could hear. "ingerul meu," he said, his voice breaking slightly; as he spoke his romani language. It was a rare moment of vulnerability; but it was more rare for him to speak his language and say such caring words, it something that he only ever allowed himself in her presence.

For a few precious moments, they stood there, wrapped up in each other, oblivious to the world outside their small bubble. Her presence was a balm to his troubled soul, a touch of sweetness in his otherwise bitter existence. The noise of the pub, the business, the danger—they all melted away, leaving just the two of them. Thomas buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent, holding her as if she might disappear if he let go. Her hair smelled like wildflowers, a scent that clashed so wonderfully with the leather and smoke that clung to him. Eventually, the world intruded once more. Thomas pulled back, but kept one arm wrapped around her waist. "Come, sit wit' me," he said, his voice a low rumble, guiding her to the table. He pulled out his chair and sat down, before tapping his lap slightly, the gesture almost gentlemanly despite the roughness of his exterior. She blushed slightly before taking off her off-white fur coat and hanging it on the small coat rack next to him.

She moved to sit down in his lap, her movements graceful and cautious. Thomas helped her get comfortable; his hands gripping her waist to steady her. Each touch was possessive yet tender, as if he were afraid to break her. He occasionally let out a soft grunt, groan, hiss, or a very, very quiet and still moan that only she would hear. These sounds were uncharacteristic of the man known for his stoicism, but with her, he allowed himself to be vulnerable. He eventually let go of her waist and rested his hands in the softness of her lap. Her presence grounded him, her warmth a stark contrast to the cold steel he often felt in his chest. The conversation Thomas once had with Arthur resumed, it was about a shipment of theirs, the details gritty and grim, but necessary. Time passed slowly as they talked about things she didn't need to worry about. She would occasionally feel uncomfortable in his lap, and moved slightly to sit differently. Each time she moved, he let out a soft grunt, groan, hiss, or a very, very quiet and still moan that only she would hear; his reactions a testament to how much he loved and needed her.

Soon, everyone had said what they needed to say, and they called the little meeting to a close. Arthur, John, Finn, Isaiah, and Michael started to get up and leave the snug, their goodbyes curt and businesslike. Thomas watched and waited as they filtered out, his focus shifting back to her as the room emptied. It was just them now, them and the air around them, them and the world only. Thomas sighed, the weight of the world momentarily lifting as he leaned forward to rest his chin on her head, his arms wrapping around her waist to hold her closer. He occasionally sniffed her hair; oh, how he loved how she smelled. The sweet scent was intoxicating, a reminder of the softness and sweetness she brought into his life. His arm now slightly wrapping around her waist; an action that held her more against him. His other hand found its way to her hands; cupping them both in his large, calloused hand, feeling the contrast between his roughness and her softness.

"I heard y' had problems when visitin' Polly the other day... why didn't y'-tell me? Eh'.." His voice was a low whisper as he leaned into her ear, his lips brushing against the soft flesh of her earlobe. The sensation sent shivers down her spine, a mix of his tenderness and the latent danger that always seemed to simmer just beneath the surface with him. "I had 'em handle it, they won' give ye' problems anymore—" His voice filled with a mixture of slow-burning rage for the men who gave her problems she shouldn't have to deal with and a deep, abiding love for her.

His words were a promise, a declaration of the lengths he would go to protect her. His hand tightened around hers, his grip firm but gentle. She was the light in his darkness, the sweetness in his bitterness, and he would do anything to keep her safe. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and love, and he felt a warmth spread through his chest, a rare feeling for a man so accustomed to the cold. Her voice was soft when she replied, "I didn't want to worry you, Tommy. You've got so much on your plate already." Her words were filled with the kind of understanding and compassion that only she could offer. She was too kind, too sweet, too loving, and he was acutely aware of how undeserving he felt of her love. He shook his head slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "You never worry me, love. Yer the only good thing in this bloody world. An' if anyone tries to take that away, I'll deal with 'em myself." There was a fierce protectiveness in his voice, a promise of retribution for anyone who dared to threaten her peace. She leaned into him, her head resting against his chest, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The pub, the business, the danger—they all became background noise to the rhythm of their shared breath. Thomas stroked her hair, his touch gentle, his heart full.

Her presence was like a soothing balm to his tumultuous soul, and in these stolen moments, he allowed himself to savor the peace she brought him. His entire being radiated a dangerous intensity, a brooding darkness that was barely contained beneath the surface. The sharp planes of his face were etched with a perpetual look of determination, his eyes glinting with a mix of love and ferocity. There was a rage simmering within him, a fury that was always ready to explode at the slightest provocation. But with her, that anger was tempered by a tenderness he rarely showed to anyone else. As he sat there, holding her close, his thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind of emotions. He was a man used to control, accustomed to bending the world to his will. Yet, when it came to her, he found himself at a loss. She was everything he had never known he needed: kind, sweet, understanding, and loving. She was the light to his darkness, the softness to his hardness, and he was utterly captivated by her. His tone was dark, his words dripping with unspoken promises; he stopped petting her soft hair. He could feel the tension in her body as he spoke, her confusion evident in the way she shifted slightly on his lap. He picked her up slightly, turning her around to face him. His arm tightened around her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. His other hand left her hands and moved to cup her face roughly, his touch firm yet somehow gentle.

"If people ever fuckin' knew..." he began, his voice low and menacing. His eyes bore into hers, searching for any sign of understanding. But she looked back at him with wide, innocent eyes, not comprehending the depths of his words. "The thin's I'd be willin' t'do for yeh," he continued, his touch becoming more possessive, his fingers digging into her soft skin. There was a darkness in his gaze, a promise of violence that he would unleash upon anyone who dared to harm her. "They woul' realize t'one they should b' scared of is not me..." he said, his nose scrunching in a gesture that was both menacing and almost tender. "It's you, love."

She still didn't understand, and that only fueled his frustration. How could she not see that she held more power over him than anyone else ever had? How could she not realize that she was the one thing in this world that could bring him to his knees? He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her skin as he spoke.

"They don't know what it's like, lovin' someone like yeh. They don't know what I'd do, what I'd sacrifice, to keep yeh safe," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I'd tear the world apart for yeh, I'd burn it all down if it meant keepin' yeh by my side."

His words were a vow, a promise of the lengths he would go to protect her. He could feel her trembling in his grasp, whether from fear or something else, he wasn't sure. But he needed her to understand, needed her to see that she was the most important thing in his life.

"You make me better, love. You make me want to be better," he confessed, his voice softening for a moment. "But that don't mean I won't do what's necessary. That don't mean I won't become a monster if it means keepin' yeh safe." He could see the thoughts piling up in her brain, in her eyes; he could tell by the way her lips quivered, he brushed a thumb across her cheek. His touch was gentler now, a stark contrast to the roughness of moments before. "I love yeh," he whispered, the words carrying a weight that was almost tangible. "More than anythin' in this world. An' I'll do whatever it takes to make sure nothin' ever hurts yeh."

Her skin was soft and smooth, a delicate canvas beneath his rough fingers. He traced the curve of her cheekbone, his touch feather-light, almost reverent. His thumb brushed against her lips, and he felt the warmth of her breath against his skin. The crimson stain of her lipstick left a faint mark on his thumb, a vivid reminder of her presence.

"I've been thinkin' 'bout..." His voice trailed off, rough and gravelly, each word carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid thoughts. He paused, his thumb resting against her lips, feeling the soft, pliant flesh beneath his touch. The struggle to find the right words was evident in the furrow of his brow, the tension in his jaw. "I just wish I could've met yeh before all this." The words finally came, a rough whisper in the quiet of the snug. His thumb traced her lower lip, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine. There was a vulnerability in his voice that she rarely heard, a glimpse of the man beneath the hardened exterior.

He gazed into her eyes, those windows of softness and light that calmed the storm within him.

"Ești prea dulce pentru mine," he murmured, his voice a low rumble, rough and full of the gravel of his Birmingham accent. His Romani roots slipped into his words, a tender whisper of his heritage that only she was privy to. She smiled softly, her eyes reflecting the understanding and love she held for him. Her hand covered his, her fingers curling around his, feeling the strength and callouses of a man who had fought many battles. Before she could respond, he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was more battle than embrace. His lips crashed against hers with a force that spoke of desperation and need, a raw intensity that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

The kiss was a tempest of emotions—passion, anger, pain, and a lingering sadness that he could never quite shake. His arm tightened around her back, pulling her impossibly closer, as if he feared she might vanish if he let go. His other hand cupped her face, thumb brushing against her cheek in a gesture that was almost tender. She clung to him, her arms finally moving to encircle his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his coat as if anchoring herself to him. The kiss deepened, his tongue slipping into her mouth, exploring and claiming in a way that was both possessive and reverent. He tasted the sweetness of her, a stark contrast to the bitter whiskey and smoke that lingered on his own tongue. Her taste was intoxicating, a heady blend of innocence and warmth that he couldn't get enough of. He gripped her face more firmly, his need for her bordering on frantic.

Time seemed to stand still as they kissed, the world outside the snug fading into oblivion. It was as if they were the only two people in existence, bound together by a connection that defied explanation. The kiss went on, a relentless exploration that left them both breathless. When they finally pulled apart, a thin string of saliva still connected their lips, a physical reminder of the bond they shared. Thomas's chest heaved as he caught his breath, his gaze never leaving her face. Her lipstick was smeared, a vibrant red that now adorned his own lips and around his mouth. She looked equally disheveled, her eyes bright with the same mix of emotions that churned within him. He watched as she leaned back against the table, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Without a word, he pulled her against him once more, her face finding its place in the crook of his neck, her breath warm against his skin. His hand moved to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he held her close. The silence between them was thick with unspoken words, a quiet that was both comforting and fraught with tension.

"îngerul meu dulce și dulce," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against her skin. My sweet, sweet angel. The words were a confession, an admission of a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to feel. In her arms, he found a sanctuary from the darkness that constantly threatened to consume him.

Her hand moved to his chest, resting over his heart as if to soothe the turmoil that raged within. She didn't need to say anything; her presence was enough, her touch a silent promise that she wasn't going anywhere. He tightened his grip on her, drawing strength from her unwavering support. Thomas's thoughts were a chaotic swirl of emotions, memories of a past marred by violence and loss clashing with the hope that she represented. She was everything he needed but didn't deserve, a beacon of light in his dark, dangerous world. He knew he should push her away, should protect her from the storm that was his life, but he couldn't. She was his, and he would do whatever it took to keep her by his side. As he held her, he couldn't help but marvel at the way she fit so perfectly against him, as if she were made to be there. Her kindness, her sweetness, her unwavering love—they were the antithesis of everything he had known, and yet they were exactly what he needed. She balanced him in a way nothing else could, her softness soothing the jagged edges of his soul.

Author's Notes:

This song is actually so fucking perfect, like it matches Thomas so well. God I can't believe I let this one shot sit on the back burner for this long!!! The reader is literally too sweet for Thomas; because she's too sweet like wine....ahhhhh!!! Please check out these articles to understand it more!!: What does it mean? 'Too Sweet' by Hozier.

The person who asked for an older and dom! Cillian paired w a younger reader; I must tell you that's its being worked on it's just I've had weird problems with it, like it's cursed. I've spent a couple hours on writing for it; then saved it only for it to not save. I've had text formatting problems; the whole 9 yards; everything and the damn kitchen sink.

However it is in the works and should be one of my next uploads; if I don't have problems with it.

To just a simple passer by; I hope you enjoyed this one shot as I did writing it.

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tojislov3rr · 6 months ago

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⊹ ⋆｡˚ - Hardcore dom!Toji x sub!fem reader

𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙎 - size difference, degradation/humiliation, angry sex, bondage (kinda), reader passes out, cowgirl, squirting, and breeding. Word count? i still don’t know how to check lol.

𝙎𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡?

You and your boyfriend Toji were arguing back and fourth about some random small thing. He’s been coming home from work later, and with your trust issues, that wasn’t sliding with you. However, he was just getting caught up on more bounties. He’d kill himself before even thinking about being disloyal to you.

“God, you’re such an annoying slut.” He hissed out, his large arms crossing over his broad chest as he looks down at you with a dark gaze. Obviously— he didn’t mean that. You knew he didn’t mean that. But for some stupid reason, the words slipped out of your mouth— “and you’re a small dick loser who I have to fake my fuckin’ orgasms for!” You huffed out, an annoyed pout on your face as you see his gaze darken more when towering over you.

Why the fuck did you say that? You’ve literally passed out for his cock...

——————————————————————————

All thoughts were removed from your head as he picked you up over his shoulder effortlessly. Oh. That got to him, more than just his nerves.

You were now straddled on his lap, not even remembering clearly how long you’ve been here, but now your angry boyfriend is looking up at you with a smug smirk, the little scar on the corner of his mouth twitching up. His back against the headboard as he keeps his hands on your fingered- bruised hips. Your own hands tied up behind you in a cute little pink rope in a bow. (all your ropes were pink, per your request).

Fat, salty tears were burning down your face, dropping onto his lower stomach as he has your tight hole on his painfully large, angry, flushed tip. Twitching against you inside. “C’mon darlin’… If I’m so small and bad you should be able to do this ‘ya?” he purrs out, gentle pushing you down more, your cunt eargly gripping just below the tip, creating a glossy white ring.

“is’too big— m’sorryyyy..” You whine out, more tears flowing as your kiss bitten lips are stuck, plastered open in a silent scream. He was kind enough to put lube, (he always was). But damn, it was in no way helping with his stupid monster cock. He moves one hand from your hip, gently gliding it down your lower stomach until he reaches your swollen clit. Drawing small circles on it, just to ease to pain a little. He was still mad at you for calling him small and whatever else you said, but he didn’t want to kill your poor cunt too quickly. Where’s the fun in that?

“Toj— m’too sensitive!” you whined, your hips rocking against his hand against your will, your wrists straining against the small pink rope around them behind your back. “ya’ wanted to be a brat, and this is what brats get, hm? They get fuckin’ punished by their damn owners” He says, his voice a little choked as well from how painfully hard you were gripping his cock.

He smirked, looking up at you with innocent eyes, acting dumb. He continued to rub soft circles until your tears eventually subsided a little bit, your head falling forward and resting against his broad shoulder, your bare chests flushed against eachkther. Perfect, he thought to himself. He took advantage of that, moving his hand away from your swollen clit back to your hips, slamming all he can up into you. Bottoming out as his heavy balls press firmly against your ass.

A loud scream, a mix of pain and pleasure, rips from your throat. The air being taken straight out of your lungs as Toji’s unreal cock slams into your tight cunt, stretching it perfectly once more to his size and shape. His angry tip pressing harshly against your cervix, throbbing against your plushy walls. “O-oh fuck—“ he hissed out in pleasure, gripping your hips harshly as your head stays on his shoulder, feeling like you were about to pass out.

You swear you saw the pearly gates behind your eyelids. The sinful stretch feeling so painfully good as he stays still inside you. Feeling more warm tears flow onto his shoulder while you continue to moan and sob into him, your wrists threatening to break through the rope. But, truly, you were way too weak to do that. He loosened his harsh grip, rubbing small circles on your hip bones, his large hands easily holding onto the soft flesh. He kissed your neck a few times before whispering into your ear, almost breathless himself.

“you still think i’m small, pretty slut?… heh, you should see how stupid you look right now fucked dumb on my cock… and I haven’t even started moving.” He cooed in a mocking tone. He wished he could take a picture and keep this sight with him forever, for the lonley nights when you’re busy. So he can pathetically pump his cock too the sight of it. He softly grinds you with ease by your hips, making your cervix feel like it’s going to break.

“hmmm— m’so sorry baby—“ you choke out through more sobs and moans, which only makes his smirk bigger, giving you a kiss to your temple as you continue to rest your face against his shoulder. He responds with a harsh snap of his hips, lifting you up and slamming you back down, his own hips meeting you on your way down.

“shut up ya’ stupid slut, you’re only sorry because i’m proving you wrong~” he growls into your ear, a low groan escaping from the back of his throat from the intense friction between the two of you. You gasp again, more fat tears flowing down your face that now feel like acid as your tight cunt throbs and stings around him. But the pain felt so good, the way his fat tip was curved so perfectly inside your pussy, pressing against your spongy g-spot. It’s like your bodies were made for eachother.

“You’ve had yur’ mercy, now ima’ fuck the shit outta that pretty cunt. My pretty cunt..” He growls once more in your ear. Before you could protest, he easily lifts your limp hips up, slamming you down at an animalistic pace. Your arousal splattering all over his lower stomach and his heavy balls slapping up against you. His precum seeping in your pussy as he continues his relentless pace.

Toji definitely isn’t one to be ashamed about the noise’s he makes in bed. He also knows how much it turns you on with the way you clench down even more with every noise that escapes his mouth. “takin’ my cock so fuckin’ well, slut.. Almost feel bad for you… almost.” He says with a husky voice laced with fake sympathy in your ear, causing your plushly walls to convulse more around his angry cock as he bounces you up and down like some rag doll.

You tried to speak, only for more broken sounds to leave your sore throat. Your jaw slacked wide open. You could feel yourself reaching the edge of cumming, and passing out with each mean thrust. You felt his balls pulse under you, becoming tighter, meaning he was getting closer as well. “You’re going to take my fuckin’ cum deep inside your cute litte cunt, mama…” he purrs out against your ear, sucking and biting on the side of your neck while groaning.

All of his words went straight to your throbbing core, causing you to reach your release. Your body tensed up, louder broken noises leaving your aching body as you jolted around him, squirting on his lower stomach that drips down onto the bed sheets, your whole body trembling pathetically hard.

Feeling your release, Toji reaches his own. Slamming you down with one final thrust balls deep, coating and splurrting his warm seed deep into your womb. Shallowly fucking it up into you as you feel your vision go black and starry, your body going limp against his chest and your breathing becoming relaxed.

He chucked breathlessly, used to you passing out during times like this. You guys did have a safe word, so he wasn’t ever worried. Moving his hands from your bruised hips, he ran one through your hair, the other untying the small pink rope on your wrists. Letting your sweaty bodies stick together as he gently rolls the two of you onto your sides, wrapping his bear arms around you in a tight, safe embrace.

——————————————————————————

But he was going to clean up and take care of you as soon as you two both woke up the next day.

He knew he was going to get introuble tomorrow morning for not cleaning up, but he was exhausted too! :( — He gave your forehead a sloppy kiss and murmured on about how much he loved you while drifting off into his own peaceful sleep.

𝘼/𝙉: ☆ - 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏- ☆

#jjk #jjk smut #jjk toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #size difference #size k!nk #breeding k1nk #smut

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pahtoosh · 1 year ago

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Hi, I’m not sure if your requests are open at the moment, but I figured I’d try anyway!

Would you be willing to write about Stucky and their little having a day out together? Like going to the zoo, the aquarium, or perhaps go swimming? Whatever you feel like writing is fine, even it is an entirely different activity!

I absolutely adore your work, so I can’t wait to see where you will take this idea 🩷

sleeping with the fishes

[image ID: a gif of fish swimming. /.end ID]

masterlist

sfw but 18+

wc: ~780 words

warnings: lots of being picked up and carried, not proofread

a/n: thank you so much for your kind words! this is such a sweet request, it’s my favorite thing to just write about a fun and fluffy day😁i hope you enjoy this and that i didn’t make you wait too long😅

pairing: daddy!stucky x little!reader

summary: your daddies take you on a trip to the aquarium

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Woah, woah! Slow your roll, fish patrol.”

“There’s no time, Baba! We have to go the ‘quarium!” It was almost unreal how quickly you were moving while simultaneously not getting any closer to the front door. You were running out to the car when Bucky stopped you with a grip on the back of your jacket. That didn’t stop you from jogging midair, though.

“Ah-quarium.” He plopped you onto the small bench in the entryway. “And I’m pretty sure there’s enough time for you to at least put on some shoes before we leave the house.”

Bucky kneeled in front of you so he could help you get on a pair of sneakers. He made sure to double knot the laces, knowing that you would have no patience for getting your shoes retied today.

“Dada! Are you almost ready?!” you shouted down the hall.

Steve sped walked out of your room with a backpack of stuff. “Almost! There’s a lot to pack for a full day out of the house.”

You whined and tried stomping your feet, forgetting that Bucky was still putting on your shoes.

“Hey, no whining and no kicking Baba,” Steve reprimanded. “We’ll get there with plenty of time to spare, baby. The fish aren’t going to swim away.”

“They might,” Bucky teased.

“Nooooo!”

“Buck, c’mon.”

Bucky grinned mischievously and gave you ticklish kisses on your face before helping you off the bench. “I’m only kidding, angel. Let’s get you in the car and buckled up while we wait for Dada.”

After what felt like a million hours, you were finally at the aquarium. Your daddies went over some safety rules while you were still in the car and once you showed that you understood, it was go time.

There were so many exhibits to discover. The tanks seemed to go on forever, all with different species of fish, snails, crabs, turtles, and other animals that you’d never seen before.

The aquarium offered something for the whole family. Still a science nerd, Bucky enjoyed reading the information cards placed by the tanks. Some of the animals and their habits reminded him so much of the aliens he read about in his sci fi novels. Steve was keeping a mental note of the animals he wanted to draw for you later. He even took pictures of a few to serve as a reference. Meanwhile, you practically had your nose pressed on the glass, just admiring the fish with an overwhelming sense of wonder.

When you saw something especially cool, you’d tug on the sleeve of your nearest daddy and point. You couldn’t just witness something so special and not share it. One of the best moments was when you pointed out a scuba diver in the large tank to your Dada. The diver noticed you and started a game of rock, paper, scissors through the glass.

One of the safety rules for the day was that you had to either wear a leash backpack or hold a daddy’s hand the whole time. In the beginning, you chose to hold hands, but then you switched to the backpack for more freedom(and because your daddies either walked too slowly or had no idea which tanks were ones to stop and stare at and which ones just needed a quick glance).

You could’ve stayed at the aquarium forever, but eventually it was time to go home. Steve and Bucky could tell you were getting sleepy. You got a little more clumsy, often getting tangled in your backpack leash, and asked them to hold you more often. Your daddies suspected that some of the requests to be carried had nothing to do with needing to see from a higher point, and much to do with your tired legs.

“This was the last tank, bubba. Now we’re going to the gift shop and then going home, okay?” Steve said.

You sighed. “Okay, Dada. Can I take a picture of the jellyfish first? Please?”

“Yes you can, baby. Good manners.” Steve held you still while you took a photo of the jellyfish tank with your camera.

As the three of you went to the gift shop, you asked Bucky to hold your camera so you could hold your hands behind Steve’s neck and place your head on his shoulder. He of course said yes. Your Baba also snapped a sneaky shot of Steve carrying sleepy little you using your camera.

You were practically already dozing off by the time you made it to the gift shop, but your daddies still went in and asked if you wanted anything to remember this trip by. You ended up leaving with a beluga whale plush, which you cuddled with the entire way home.

#inspiration has struck!!#stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #oneshot #fluff #sfw regression #agere fic #marvel agere #littlespace fics #sleeping with the fishes #sleeping-with-the-fishes #toosh writes #little being carried

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yayakoishii · 1 year ago

Text

Lucky | Sanji x Chubby!Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Chubby! Reader

Could be considered a part 2 to Want but can be read (and is written as a) stand-alone!

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: Angst, Fluff??

Warnings: Insecurity about stretch marks, mentions of/implications of (but not explicit) sex so Read At Your Own Discretion, low self esteem, etc.

A/n: I'm not the type of person to write about things that are personal to me, tbh, but this idea played around in my head. I know you can have stretch marks from a variety of reasons but I wrote my own, and I would just like to remind everyone that they're normal. You're absolutely gorgeous as you are, my lovelies. I hope you enjoy this little fic ♡

also available on ao3!

Sanji felt like the luckiest man in the entire universe.

When Sanji and you had finally got together, he couldn't believe it. It felt unreal to have you reciprocate his feelings, to have you look at him shyly but with warm eyes that made him feel seen and heard– and he was ready to swear over his life to you, holding back only so as to not freak you out. Unlike his usual grand confessions, you were more important to him, a person he could not even take the risk of driving away. If you found him clingy, or obsessive, and he lost you… somehow, even the thought of that made him feel like someone was stabbing at his heart with a fork, over and over.

And he was ready to take this relationship at your pace. Whatever you were ready to offer him, he would gladly take it. Even if you wanted to wait to have sex until you were married, he would gladly do it simply because he was already head over heels in love with you. It scared him a little, when he was by himself in the confines of dark nights, just how much he was ready to sacrifice for a shred of your pure heart. To have you around him as long as the world would let him… The fact that you never hesitated to showcase your love, though you were shy in public, made his heart soar. He never had to wait for anything – except maybe sex.

The problem though, seemed to be something else.

It's not like you didn't want it. Clearly, going by the number of times the two of you had engaged in heavy make out sessions that seemed to lead towards it eventually, you were as affected by him as he was by you. But everytime that happened, your eyes would suddenly lose their drunken haze and shift back into a sort of nervousness and sadness that made Sanji feel helpless. You would stop after that, drawing back into your shell, wrapping your arms around your body and blocking him out.

He took it easy. Sanji didn't want to push you into talking until you were ready, and he certainly didn't want you to feel that a relationship without sex wasn't on the table. So he waited, giving you time to talk about it yourself; it was no good. If anything, you got quieter over time, hesitating even more around him.

It drove him crazy, and he would have questioned if you truly did like him if it wasn't for the fact that you maintained all other aspects of physical intimacy. There was no hesitation when it came to giving him hugs or kisses or affirmations of how in love you were with him, whenever he felt vulnerable and insecure. And that was what made him wonder; were you struggling with your own insecurities of some sort?

It didn't make sense to him that someone as perfect as you should find anything to fault in yourself, but after all, his lens of love was not to be compared with the harsh critics that were your own eyes and mind. He knew you were hesitant of your own body, its curves and how it was different from the slender figures of the other ladies on board and on land.

In Sanji's eyes, you were perfect as you were– soft and warm in all the right places, with a kind and caring personality. There was nothing about you that he didn't love and nothing that he found ugly, yet he didn't quite know how to make you believe him.

It wasn't even that you hated your body. He had seen you have confidence at times, but he had also seen it waver when it came to rude comments or just general low moods. You had your moments of low self-esteem but even in those moments, Sanji found himself a slave of your beauty. No, a devotee would be a better word. He wanted to worship you and your body as you deserved and yet, all his plans were thwarted every time you stopped in the middle of an escalating make out session to give him a small smile and come up with some random excuse to leave.

You were all that he wanted, and he was determined to let you know just what you looked like through his eyes. Sanji's chance came sooner than he had thought, the very night of when he made the resolution.

You lingered around in the kitchen after dinner, humming a song shyly after Sanji had insisted. When he was done with the dishes, you had helped him put them back despite his protests.

"Join me, my love?" He had asked as the two of you stepped out of the kitchen. He had to lock it and he waited for your answer as he did so. You were silent for a while before you spoke up.

"Oh, Sanji, um," you hesitated, clearly overthinking and worried that if you declined then it would be in bad taste but clearly also hesitant of what he was hoping for. "I, I actually…"

"Nothing that you don't want will happen, sweetheart," Sanji said quietly, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. "I just want to spend some time with you."

"Oh!" You suddenly looked relieved and Sanji's heart clenched. Were you really afraid that he would force you to do something you weren't comfortable with? "Sure Sanji, I would love that too."

He held your hand in his as you walked to his room. Only once you were inside and he had closed the door behind him, did he speak.

"Sweetheart," he called out when you had settled comfortably on his bed. You looked up at him curiously. "Is it okay if I ask you something?"

You were quiet for a second, not unlike how you got when the sexual tension between you would get high. You clearly knew what he was getting to. Sanji waited until you nodded to move in closer to sit across from you.

"I just want to put this on the table before I ask," Sanji searched your eyes for something. "This relationship will always go at your pace. I do not mind waiting as long as you need me to, or even forever, if that is what you want. But what I want is for you to be comfortable and open with me. To tell me if something is bothering you. To be vulnerable with me, because you trust me. Is that alright, my love?"

"Of course, Sanji," you inched closer to him, a hand reaching out to take his. He let you, and brushed his knuckles against the inside of your wrist, watching you squirm at how it tickled.

"Do you not want to have sex with me, sweetheart?" He asked clearly. You flinched at that, and he could see the torment you were facing bubble up to the surface. "It's alright, love. Just tell me what you really think. I understand if I'm not appealing in th–"

"No!" You interrupted, looking at him with a pout. "It's not that. God, Sanji, you drive me insane all the time. I would have to be blind to not appreciate your figure."

"Then is it something else?" He asked seriously, hand now coming up to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch, giving him a sad smile.

"Of course I want to… do it with you," you flushed, embarrassed at having to say that aloud. "I want it but… I don't want you to see me."

"You don't want me… to see you?" Sanji repeated, unsure of what you meant. Your hand came up to hold his where it rested on your cheek.

"I… have stretch marks," you looked embarrassed. "Maybe it's stupid to you– it probably is, but I know it's not what is considered appealing. I know I'm… not as slender as you might prefer, and I'm just… scared that you would look at me and feel disgusted. Feel like you made a mistake and break us off. I know!" You stressed it when Sanji looked like he was about to say something, "I know that you're kinder than that. But I don't want to lose you. I don't want to see you looking at me with disgust. I don't care about my stretch marks but when I think of you seeing them… I feel like I would rather die."

"Shh," Sanji shook his head, upset at your words. "What are you saying, my love? As if something like that is enough to shake my love for you. I can't even begin to tell you where my love for you begins or where it ends, because it's fathomless and so much that it scares even me. Any marks on your body are a part of you. I'm sure even they are as beautiful as the rest of you."

"Really?" Your voice was meek, wanting reassurance but also not wanting to be burdensome.

"Let me show it to you," he whispered, gently lowering you onto your back. The action made your shirt ride up a little, revealing the white and red marks. You squirmed and raised your head to see what Sanji planned to do.

A gasp left your lips when he placed a soft peck on one, marking the path to the next without lifting his lips. The action tickled you and a warmth pooled into your gut, along with the understanding that Sanji would never be disgusted by you or your marks. He would love every inch of you.

"They are like lightning," he whispered into your skin, warm breath fanning the cool surface, causing you to shiver. "Like pathways mapping the surface of the temple of the goddess I worship. Like waves crashing into the ocean, for me to appreciate, along with every part of you. I could never hate them, or you, sweetheart. Every part of you is meant to be worshipped, to be sung prai–"

"Alright," you choked, feeling overwhelmed. He kissed you in between as he spoke, careful never to move downwards or to make the act sexual. Every part of it felt like he was whispering and etching reminders of his love into your skin, like carefully tucked in notes in the folds of your flesh. "Sanji. Sanji, come up here."

He hovered above you for a few seconds, blue eyes misty with want before he gently lowered himself next to you on his bed. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat as you cupped his cheeks and took in every inch of his face, took in the blonde hair falling into his eye– and couldn't help but think.

"Heavens, I love you more and more each day, Sanji."

Think that contrary to what he believed, the lucky one was actually you.

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece sanji #op sanji #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #sanji fanfiction #sanji fic #angst and fluff #insecurities #insecure reader #chubby reader #stretch marks #you're all gorgeous my loves <3

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 1 year ago

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See How It Shines

Summary: Spencer gets home from work to find Reader in tears over the new Hozier album.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff and comfort

Content warnings: The masterpiece of Hozier’s Unreal Unearth, me stopping halfway to listen to the entire album, me crying to every song I reference

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: shoutout to anyone who picks up on every song reference I make. I am instantly in love with you.

Spencer had been etched with the weight of unsolved cases and the relentless march of time, and he was forced to call it a night around six. The team had already pulled an all-nighter earlier in the week, so Hotch decided they all deserved rest. Spencer, however, wasn’t tired (he was; it was the late cups of coffee). Nevertheless, he makes it to his apartment door, skipping every other step. As Spencer turned the key in the lock, a soft melody flowed from the other side, haunting him yet drawing him in.

When the door opens with a slight creak, the music only grows. The living room was a sanctuary, bathed in the golden hues of twilight and table lamps, together casting long, ethereal shadows across the aged wooden floor. Plants adorned the walls and shelves. Since you moved in, he has never shared a space with so many simple living things. His record player, a testament to decades of shared music between him and his mother, spun its vinyl tale. This time it was for you, as it breathed life into the album as you sat on the couch in a nest of blankets.

Ah yes, it was Hozier day. The anticipated album release of Unreal Unearth. His girlfriend highly anticipated it. She had been vibrating as the week drew to a close with five days left, then three, then one. And it was well worth the wait, considering the tears continuing to streak her face as the Irish man begged for someone to not fall away from him.

Spencer set his bag down by the door and proceeded toward the couch with caution as if he were ready to pounce like a predator on prey. Except the end resulted in a tender hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him with a puffy face and snotty nose. It was Spencer’s next instinct to grab a tissue from the end table and offer it to you. Of course, you took it. And even though the answer was obvious, he still felt the need to ask, “Are you okay?”

It was a struggle for you to inhale, so you blew your nose again. "I didn’t expect this to be a breakup album.” The album sleeve was wrapped in your arms, proving to already be a prized possession. The tracklist was organized by the layers of Dante’s hell they fell under.

Spencer gave you a small smirk before placing a kiss on your head. “Well, I’ll go ahead and get started on dinner.” It was his turn to take the culinary reins for tonight. “Do you need anything?”

“I need to know who this woman is, Spencer.” You throw your head back as Hozier hits a high note that neither of you has heard from him before. You stay there as you ask, “Who made this man feel so much pain?”

“You want to fight Hozier’s ex-girlfriend?”

“Ew, no.” Your nose scrunched. “I just want to know how. The power to make a man feel this way.”

Spencer chuckled. He had answers. And he’s happy to not reply with any of them. “I’m making chicken parmesan. That okay?”

You nodded, soon returning to singing about holding a heart like a steering wheel. But you then grabbed his hand. Your eyes are red, and Spencer is sure you’ll need drops before the end of the night. “Did a part of you die the first time I called you ‘baby,’ Spencer?”

Spencer couldn’t help but smirk as he quirked a brow. “Do what?”

“They’re song lyrics.” You let go of him.

Spencer has never fully understood the uproar that comes with Hozier. Then again, no one really flocks to Beethoven and Chopin like they used to. Plus, Vivaldi wasn’t known for belting out in the middle of his pieces and Spencer can at least admit Hozier’s belts ( well, the ones he’s heard so far) tug at him by the chest. He came back to his senses quickly when his mismatched socks landed on the cold tile. He washed his hands and opened the fridge door with his good knee.

Songs of water and knives reminded him he had chicken to wash and cut. And the familiar feeling in his own kitchen gets the tasks in Spencer’s head in order. He could feel the weight of his week slowly lift, replaced by Spencer attempting to chop to the song. It was inefficient. Some songs play shockingly fast for a breakup album. He settled for a more percussion style of noise, making each slice more deliberate as a testament to his meticulousness.

The flour and breadcrumbs sizzled in the oil that mingled with the sight of you matching the pitch of the song and humming where Hozier shouted, caressing the album sleeve like it was alive and needed your warmth. The weight of the lyrics settling in your bones caused your head to fall in shock as a long, high note carried through the whole apartment.

The album played on, weaving tales of love and loss, each one successfully targeting your core and striking effectively. And when Spencer got into the groove of his own routine in the kitchen, he listened to the lyrics as they almost guided him to autopilot, reminding him of the joys that come with his leg around you in bed, ensuring you don’t move anywhere except closer to him. And how the idea of losing that is something he does not care to dwell on for long.

He could keep it together, he thought.

Until his voice soars about the glistening of an animal’s eyes. About the force of love for someone recklessly in the middle of the street. Spencer couldn’t help but feel a lump forming in his throat. It was a visceral reaction—Spencer's sniffle. But it wasn’t unheard.

You turned your gaze toward Spencer, your eyes soft with understanding. You could hear the emotion in his breath and the slight catch in his throat. “Spencer?” You asked.

“I’m fine.”

Your lower lip quivers with a puffy smile. “You’re crying.”

“No, I’m chopping. Chopping while completely fine.” His sniffles continued to give him away (sanitary stations over pride every time).

You couldn’t help but find the situation adorable. You lazily got up from the couch, letting one of the blankets slide off with you, dragging along behind you across the wood floor and then the tile. You carefully put your hands around his waist because safety comes first. You squeeze him, and he laughs a little. For a moment, he puts his left hand on your arm, keeping it there. You noticed how his fingertips were colder than expected as you looked at the cutting board from under his arm. “So basil makes you cry? Is that it?”

Spencer laughs again, diverting his gaze from the record player and clearing his eyes from unshed tears. “Today, it apparently does. There must be some emotional properties I didn’t consider.”

“Nothing to do with an Irish man singing his heart out?”

Spencer rubs his nose on his sleeve. Fuck sanitation right now; he’s about to go through it. The snot is evident. See how it shines, indeed. “Is he really singing about roadkill?”

“Yep.” You sniffle in return as you lay your head on his back.

“Fuck.”

“I know.”

“How does he do it?”

“That I don’t know.” You held Spencer as he let the music hit him. Taking moments to turn from the food to wipe his tears.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic

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greythemed · 1 year ago

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𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ lovesick ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 1936

he looked unreal, all tanned with his beautiful eyes half closed as he looked down, full lips unconsciously forming a pout. his chest was bronzed and openly displayed for anyone with two eyes and a drooling mouth.

you wanted to eat him alive.

it was supposed to be a peaceful morning at your parents' beach house on the coast but, apparently, your boyfriend chose violence that day. with sleepy eyes and a drowsy appearance, you immediately realized that you accidentally fell asleep while trying to get tanned by the summer sun in the morning. luckily, the book you were reading fell from your grip at some point and didn't leave a funny mark on your stomach for woo-jin to laugh about later.

how can one person be so beautiful, inside and out? was he even real, or will you inevitably wake up to find the space beside you empty, his presence fading with your dreams?

you get goosebumps just imagining it.

feeling your eyes on him, gun-woo looked up from his drawing, a big smile forming on his pink lips.

"you look like shit, babe".

oh wow, what a day to feel loved.

"fuck off". you grumbled while sitting up and picking the book from the floor next to you, gun-woo's eyes never leaving your bikini form. "what took you so long to get here?". you asked him pouty.

"your mother asked me to move the sofa three times so she could do her pilates session in the living room". gun-woo couldn't help but laugh at his answer, never imagining he'd be in this position someday.

it was your first family trip as a couple, and also the first time gun-woo went on a plane and traveled since his school's excursion in 9th grade to say the best. you were happy to see him happy. it was thrilling to see the man in another setting, different from the usual gym clothes or café outings you guys first got to know each other. you considered yourself a good girlfriend, providing these opportunities for both of you while so young, even if gun-woo was paying for basically everything other than the house you were staying. you were a good girlfriend, right?

so why the living hell was he acting so mean towards you?

"i'm sorry about that". you grimaced embarrassingly because of your mother. "just because you have an insane amount of muscle she thinks you're her personal guard". gun-woo laughs. that bright innocent smile that makes his eyes disappear.

fuck you kim geun-woo for being so mean.

"my mom used to say we should never neglect help from others, including offering help in the first place". he tells you with innocence, a sudden wave of sympathy running through his veins strong enough to make him vocalize his thoughts. you were too accustomed with this side of him, being together for almost 6 months. “she also used to say that we always must look for the best in people”.

he was too pure. so why could you only think other things like what was this man saying? and why wasn't he kissing your mouth right now?

you embarrassingly found yourself in this predicament more times than you could count with your boyfriend.

the sound of his voice didn't shake you out of your sleepy daze, looking up at him with eyes full of love and wonder. like a lovesick puppy whose brain didn't seem to register the spoken words, too caught up in its own reverie.

when he didn't get the reply he was hoping for, gun-woo finally put down the pen and paper and leaned closer to you, your knees now touching and you almost choked on your saliva.

you loved him too much. and he was so hot.

“y/n?” he asked softly, placing a hand on top of your lap, the feel of his surprisingly cold hands against your warm skin almost making you shiver.

"i was so worried when i woke up and didn't see you, figured you'd be reading here". his smile continued to be nothing other than soothing, comforting, and exclusive.

exclusive for you and only you.

"woo-jin tried facetiming early this morning but i was still sleeping, i kind of feel bad for him not being able to come this time". he rambles. "and i also feel bad for sleeping so late, i hope your parents don't mind it. yesterday was a good day".

of course it was a good day. it was gun-woo's first ever private flight and you couldn't put your mind around the fact that this man's whole life was a huge unfair exposure to only the bad in life. you wanted to cry suddenly. cry for everything cruel that happened to him. cry for his still pure but poorly scarred heart. cry for his smiles and goodmorning pecks. cry for his fucking six-pack and spy reflexes.

cry because he was yours. exclusively.

without saying a word, you gently pulled his hands away before wrapping yours around his shoulders in a much-needed hug, the love you felt for him overwhelming all your senses. his arms found their place around your waist immediately, pulling his body closer and pouring all his love into you in return.

it was his fault for dating such a crybaby and he knew it, because the second he touched your waist and ribs, the boxer knew you were about to cry because of your uneaving breathing.

gun-woo hesitated for a second, giving your body another squeeze before finally speaking.

"are you okay, princess?" his voice was calm as he gently stroked your hair, knowing damn well you got emotional in the mornings sometimes. his 'bedroom voice' - that's what you called, don't judge - was enough to make your eyes sting, causing you to snuggle closer to his neck with a nod.

"'m okay".

you loved his bedroom voice - again, don’t judge the name you came up with -, it was special for you. it held something ethereal in the fact that he dropped a few octaves to talk to you and only you. the intimacy he could bring only by speaking more calmly to you, everywhere you both were together and tangled in each other's arms like right now.

everything was different. the setting, the weather, the clothes - it made you realize for the very first time in the six months of your relationship that dating itself shouldn't be overwhelming, tiring, or burdensome.

dating should feel like the books you grew up reading and the movies you grew up watching. anything other than that, it didn't belong to you in the first place.

you felt so comfortable in his embrace like you were floating on a fluffy cloud as the sun was slowly disappearing, so warm and safe. it was just the best, being with the man you loved, and nothing could come close to how you were feeling in his presence, surrounded by his unconditional love and care.

fuck, you were sounding like a corny teenager and it was embarrassing.

"y/n, you're going to tell me what's on your mind, aren't you?". the sound of his concern was evident in his voice, reminding you that - even if this man's thighs were the size of your head -, he still was worried and soft on the inside type of boyfriend.

you were his first girlfriend. gun-woo didn't know how to do things usually.

without missing a beat, you looked him in the eye for the question.

"i love you, gunwoo-ya". you started to pour your eyes out for no reason. you blamed the hormones, your mom would blame the weather and woo-jin would blame the books you read but you didn't care.

the corners of his mouth turned up in response, a soft, sincere smile stretching across his face because he was also just that: a lovesick puppy.

"i love you too". gun-woo wasn't expecting that, you could tell. he was too nonchalant for his own good sometimes.

like who the fuck wears pink bright shorts at his parents-in-law’s beach house? WITH NO SHIRT ON.

his eyes were full of love as he looked at you, the sun making the already beautiful landscape even more dazzling as time seemed to stop once more, everything but him disappearing at that moment. not being able to wait any longer, gun-woo then leaned his head up, pouty lips brushing yours teasingly for a moment before connecting in a proper kiss.

his touch was soft and tender, brushing against your mouth as he had so many times before, your tongue darting out to meet his briefly as his arms around your waist pulled you even closer. the sudden change in height since you got up from the bench was a different angle for both of you.

a silent moan escaped your lips as your barely clothed breast brushed against his, giving your boyfriend the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue properly inside your mouth for another taste.

his hands squeezed your sides lightly, applying just the right amount of pressure to feel good, and just as you were about to pull him even closer to deepen the kiss, he slowly pulled back, making you want his lips more.

a smile appeared on his face at that, the smugness behind it pouting in response. you straddled him so your faces were on the same level and suddenly the boxer went exe.error404

"jagi, your mom-". he spoke, his hot breath hitting your face with each exhale. you smirked at him.

he was so mean.

"how can you act innocent right after sucking my mouth dry a second ago, you monster?".

"but-". oh no. his cheeks were red, wide eyes searching for one of your parents to pop up from nowhere suddenly, hands finding no safe spot to grip at your sides, finally opting to put them in your waist, almost engulfing its whole circumference because of the size of his hands.

when a few moments passed and you still remained in the same state, he finally relented and sealed your lips once more in a quick kiss, one of his hands moving up from your waist to gently caress your swollen lower lip afterward.

“is that what you've been thinking about all this time, baby?". he asked embarrassingly, eyes avoiding your brown ones for all that was worth.

you nodded, your eyes roaming all over his face before reaching out to move some of the hair away from his eyes, gathering his attention.

"sorry, but yes". you pouted, a small smile starting to appear on the boxer's mouth. you could tell he was embarrassed to hear you confess he occupies your mind 24/7 as if he didn’t know that yet. "and that you are so irritably sexy".

not even one second after, gun-woo's hand is covering your mouth with his eyes wide open and a laugh escapes your lips. he instantly mouths for you to be careful.

"i didn't even say anything wrong!". you defend, automatically tracing his scar on the right side of his face like you are already used to, brushing his hair at the end.

"you want sexy time, i know you!". he whisper-shouts, now completely avoiding your gaze. you laughed.

"sorry". you were not. "it's not my fault you're wearing pink shorts! you can't do this to me, you're mean!". you whined on his lap.

"you were crying seconds ago, what happened?!". it was his turn to pout, looking genuinely confused at your change of emotions. "woojin-hyung said you were crazy when you guys first met".

"that old f-". gun-woo covered your mouth again, warning you. "he's lucky he didn't make it here".

this one is for my crybaby girlies i got you don't worry, gun-woo is here to wipe your tears and fuck your brains out - in a loving way. loved imagining beach!gunwoo a little too much.

#this was supposed to be longer im sorryyyy #hope you enjoyed anyways!!#woo do hwan #kim geun woo x reader #kim gun woo #bloodhounds fanfic #bloodhounds #bloodhounds x reader #bloodhounds netflix #bloodhounds kdrama

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tsxkkis · 1 year ago

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# tsukishima kei - wait

a/n = ahh i fear this might be too out of character T-T also i've been so busy with reading jjk lately i might just start writing for it too

summary = old feelings to a certain blonde resurface and are accidentally revealed by none other than tipsy you.

warnings = making out, mentions of alcohol (all characters are aged up a bit so they can legally drink), nothing else i think

his eyes were glued to you the entire night.

you noticed, obviously. the bar you decided to meet up at was just big enough for all of you to fit inside, the long-awaited karasuno volleyball team reunion finally happening. it's been a few years since high school ended for you and your friends, saying your emotional goodbyes as you all went your separate ways.

but it was the hardest thing in the world for you to say goodbye to tsukishima kei.

it wasn't a secret that you had a crush on him ever since you saw him for the first time, sitting right in front of you in your english class as you gently pat his shoulder, asking if he had a spare pencil in the quietest whisper you could let out. you were hooked from that moment on; and yet for the entirety of high school, you didn't act up on your feelings, not even once.

as cold as he was to most people around, tsukishima seemed to treat you just the slightest bit differently. he would always lend you money if you forgot yours for lunch, making sure to call you an idiot in the process as he put the coins inside the vending machine, getting your favorite drink. helping you out with studying, something other first years could only dream of, and doing all that without you having to beg him for it. a sight so genuinely rare that even yamaguchi himself was surprised.

everyone always asked one question; 'why didn't you confess?' maybe it was the fact that you were scared of ruining your perfectly good friendship. maybe you were afraid of it affecting the dynamics in your friend group, or maybe you were just terrified that he wouldn't treat you seriously.

so when you found yourself lying in his apartment, the soft pillow from his couch under your head as he hovered over you, lips attached to yours in an eager kiss, you were almost sure it was all just a dream. the few drinks you had downed earlier definitely helped your confidence in that moment, as you were the one to start all of this, but it still felt unreal to be in this situation right now.

tsukishima breathed heavily, his hand squeezing your hip, thumb lazily drawing circles on it as he used the other one to keep himself from falling with all of his weight on top of you. he was sure it wouldn't end well for you, considering how he was significantly bigger. he gasped as he felt your hand traveling to his hair, lightly tugging on it as you deepened the kiss.

"wish i've done that sooner," you mumbled lazily in between kisses, his lips quickly back on yours as his hand wandered higher, resting on your cheek gently. you were surprised to see him pull away, the faintest smile on his face as his eyes locked with yours.

"i know." your eyes widened at his response, the alcohol slightly clouding your mind seemingly dissapearing from your body entirely. "can't believe it took you five drinks and all these years of waiting to actually say it."

you immediately sat up, eyes as big as ever, face flushed a deep shade of red (from both the alcohol and the embarrassment) as you looked away from him, your hands coming up to hide your face. tsukishima still hovered over you, his signature grin gracing his face as he chuckled at your state.

"don't tell me you knew all this time." he could barely hear you mumble, your hands stopping most of the sound from coming out. you didn't want to believe it, but at the same time, tsukishima was damn smart. and he wasn't blind, either; he could probably see how you tried your best at hiding your feelings from everyone.

"yamaguchi told me at the end of our third year." he shook his head, a small laugh leaving his lips. "apparently he was 'fed up with the mutual pining', or whatever he said."

"mutual?" you whispered as you slowly uncovered your still red face, tsukishima shifting to sit down next to you. a sigh left his lips, his eyes closed for a few seconds, as if to muster up the courage for whatever he was about to say.

"you know i'm not good with expressing my emotions, and i definitely was even more shit at it in high school." he started explaining, eyes looking everywhere else but you. "only yamaguchi knew about me liking you, but when he finally told me that you actually liked me back i was..."

"scared you wouldn't be able to survive a long distance relationship since you knew i was going away for college and that it would ruin our entire friend group if we didn't work out."

he looked at you, a stoic expression on his face as if to say that you got that correctly.

"tch. you're being annoying reading in my mind like that, you know?" his words made you giggle, his hand up to gently flick you in the forehead. in reality, tsukishima was glad you finished that sentence for him; he probably wouldn't be able to express himself correctly if you didn't step in. "yamaguchi still curses me out for it."

you took a deep breath, thinking of your next words.

"you know, we could always try it." his head turned towards you, a puzzled look. "when we finish college. if you're willing to wait, that is."

tsukishima smiled, at it almost took your breath away. he didn't smile much, and even if he did, it was almost never like this. this time, it was the most genuine smile you ever saw from him; warm and gentle.

"of course i am. you don't even know for how long."

taglist: @ox1-lovesick @moonswolfie @wyrcan

#tsxkkis #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #karasuno x reader #tsukishima fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff

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roses-for-rosalyn · 1 year ago

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City Lights

part 2 bitches!

part 1

a/n: this took a long time because I am not doing 100%, but I mean it's here and it's horny so <3

Realizing just now I forgot to tag @paleidiot and @abbysmainbitch 😭😭

minors dni 🔞(for realsies do not)

work count: 2.2k (pure filth, no plot)

cw: Abby in a suit, mafia! Abby, Abby referred to as Ms. Anderson or miss, fem, reader (girl is used to refer to reader!), hickeys, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, fingering (r! receiving), oral (r! receiving), dirty talk (like a lot, especially for me), aftercare, consent 👍, bit of angst at the end because idk maybe this is a series now, also no mentions of skin color or hair for reader (if there is feel free to call me out on it because I'll fix it!)

Dinner takes ages, your knee bounces up and down rapidly as you wait for the conversation to finally wind down. Finally the girls are dismissed while the remaining men and Ms. Anderson stay behind to talk over coffee. You know she’ll excuse herself soon, but she doesn’t want to draw suspicion by leaving right away. You hurry to your car, quickly getting in and starting it. The drive home is a blur. You try not to let any insecure thoughts creep in, second guessing yourself now would just be idiotic. You rush up to your apartment and slip on a black set of lingerie Dina pressured you into buying. You put your dress back on and check yourself in the mirror, you let yourself breathe for a moment. This moment feels a little unreal, you’d been imagining it for so long you had no idea how to feel anymore.

A knock at the door startles you a bit before you remember who it was. You rush to the door and open it revealing a disheveled Ms. Anderson. Her top couple of buttons were undone, tie loosened, vest unbuttoned, hair down and somehow more attractive than she was at dinner. Her chest is rising up and down as if she had run to your apartment. You can’t help but smile at the thought of her racing here to see you.

“Hi.” she says breathlessly, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Hi.” you say, hoping your squeaky voice didn’t betray your nerves. Ms. Anderson steps forward, the closer she gets the more she towers over you. She steps impossibly closer to you, lightly cups your jaw and smiles, her thumb gently rubs against your cheek. She just stares for a moment, observing every inch of your face, hungrily searching your eyes for any flicker of emotion, any hesitation. It feels like she can see right through you, it almost makes you want to shrink backwards away from her, but before you can she pulls you in for a kiss. This was different than the first one, it had a purpose behind it, a hunger. Her tongue massaged against yours roughly as her other hand shut the front door. You move your hand to the back of her head, lacing your fingers into her hair. You put the other on her waist, attempting to get her impossibly closer to you. Her hands begin to wander, smoothing down the sides of your body to your ass. She massages the soft, malleable skin and groans at the feeling. You both begin stumbling towards the couch, desperately trying to remain entangled with each other as you move. Your hand grabs at Ms. Anderson’s vest, desperate to keep your hold of her, causing her to let out a surprised whimper.

Eventually, somehow you both made it to the couch. Abby sits down, breaking the kiss for a moment before you instinctively crawl onto her lap. Your lips meet again, it’s messy and hungry and eager and yet you need more. You lace your hands into her hair as she grabs your hips. You hadn’t even noticed how they started moving on their own, trying to find friction. You let out a small whimper into Ms. Anderson’s mouth and she tightened her grip on your hips, starting to lose the very little restraint she had in the first place. She breaks the kiss and spreads her legs a bit, grabs your leg, placing it in between hers so you’re kneeling over her muscular thigh. You grab her broad shoulders for balance at the unexpected motion. She grabs the hem of your dress and hikes it upwards, exposing your lacy underwear. She pulls the underwear aside, exposing your soaking folds. She falters for a moment before using her hold on your hips to encourage you down onto her thigh. You can’t help the moan that escapes from your lips as your bare clit rubs against the rough fabric of Ms. Anderson’s pants.

“This ok?” She asks tentatively.

“Yes, yes, miss.” You say breathlessly. Abby feels arousal flood to her cunt as soon as she hears you call her “miss”. You were so sensitive to her little touches, your body reacting every time her skin met yours– it was intoxicating, you were intoxicating. You didn’t know if this could feel any better until she started moving your hips back and forth, encouraging you to grind onto her thigh. You sigh at the satisfying feeling of your clit being dragged against the fabric of her trousers with the perfect amount of pressure.

“That’s it baby just like that.” She says as she looks down at the mess you're making on her pant leg. Ms. Anderson’s breath picks up noticeably, unable to contain her insatiable desperation for you. Her eyes move upward, switching her focus to your chest. She gently runs her fingers under the thin straps of your dress, causing them to fall to your shoulders. She reaches behind you and slowly pulls down the zipper before peeling the dress down to expose your bra. She immediately takes greedy handfuls of the soft flesh over the fabric making a whimper fall from your swollen lips. You start to move your hips a bit faster, not being able to control the pleasure building in your lower body. Ms. Anderson reaches behind you and unclasps your bra, quickly removing it leaving your upper body bare for her. You gasp as the cold air meets your nipples, but the feeling doesn’t last as Abby quickly takes them into her warm mouth. The foreign feeling incites a moan from you, you feel arousal shoot to your core. The feeling of your swollen bud moving against the rough fabric of Ms. Anderson’s pants is heightened as she continues sucking and licking at your nipples. The pleasurable feeling between your legs was building to an almost unbearable peak, you were unable to control the noises falling from your lips.

“F-fuck miss, feels so good.” She moves her lips to your neck softly kissing upwards, taking her time to suck on the sensitive skin, marking you as she pleases.

“Good girl, I’m just here to make you feel good alright? Use me to make yourself feel good.” You start to feel your pleasure spilling over, begging for release. You move your hips faster and you feel it, your orgasm hits you in overwhelming waves.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” is all you can manage to breathe out. Abby doesn’t stop assaulting you with her lips through the whole thing, whispering encouraging phrases into your skin as you moaned and writhed against her. Your hips continue to grind against Ms. Anderson’s thigh as you ride it out.

Your moans turn to heavy breaths, and you allow yourself to fall into Ms. Anderson’s strong, warm chest. You let out a short laugh in disbelief as to what just happened. Abby gently cups your jaw and forces you to look at her. She’s smiling at you and you manage to lazily smile back. “You did so good for me, princess.” She kisses you softly for a moment before pulling away, “Think you can take another?” She asks. You nod eagerly, wanting nothing more. “Words, baby.”

“Yes, I can.”

She smiles, “Thank god, I’ve waited too long for this to stop now.” Before you can say anything she quickly adjusts you both so you’re laying down on the couch with her kneeling between your legs. You let out a nervous squeak at the quick movement, but you’re quickly distracted by the feeling of Ms. Anderson caressing the outsides of your thighs. Her hands move up to your dress that has been bunched up at your waist. “Lift your hips for me baby.” You do as she says and she drags the dress down your legs and throws it somewhere into the dim living room, leaving you bare except for the pair of thin lace panties. She leans down, placing her forearms on either side of you, careful not to crush you. Suddenly her lips are on yours, kissing you with a desperation that takes your breath away. She moves to your jaw, “You’re so soft,” down your neck “So perfect,” between your breasts, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve imagined this?” Her kisses are so light, so gentle you sigh at the feeling, “Maybe you do know, maybe you have thought about this happening,” She makes her way back up to your neck, her kisses turning into her sucking and licking at your soft skin. “When you’re alone at night-” her hand gently trails down the side of your body, moving to your lower stomach, teasing the hem of your panties “-do you think of me when you’re fucking yourself? Do you say my name when you come all over those pretty, little fingers of yours?” She of course already knew the answer to the question, but she wanted to hear you say it. She cups your dripping cunt and you gasp, unable to formulate a response. “Come on baby admit it.” You can feel her smirk against the skin of your neck.

“Yes,” you manage to whisper, “I-I h-have thought about you-” You take a little breath as she adds more pressure to your sensitive core, “-like that.”

Ms. Anderson lets out a gentle laugh at your confession. “I know you have.” You have no time to act surprised as she begins circling her finger around your sensitive clit causing you to moan quietly. “I came here the day after I found you at the club-” She teases her hand up and down your slit, gathering arousal. “You didn’t answer the door so I let myself in.” You can barely manage to react to her words considering her fingers are causing so much pleasure to build in your body you can barely think. “I heard you in the bedroom and at first I thought something was wrong, but then I saw you with your legs spread open while you were moaning my name.” Now she has your undivided attention, your face feels hot, embarrassment practically consuming you. Ms. Anderson circles a finger around your entrance, getting you ready before she plungers her thick digit inside of you. You gasp at the feeling of light pressure in your cunt. She brings her eyes up to meet yours and the embarrassment is so apparent on your face she almost feels bad. She lets out a small chuckle and says “Don’t worry princess I’ve done the same thing.”

She makes her way downward until her mouth is hovering over your swollen cunt. You can feel her cool breath fan over your folds, the closer she got the more tortuous the feeling was. Her mouth met your sensitive clit and you let out a whimper, the foreign feeling overtaking your body. She begins licking and sucking at your swollen bud and you can’t help but squirm a bit at the odd yet pleasurable sensation. Abby needed you still so she wrapped both of her arms around your thighs and held down your hips, keeping you impossibly close to her warm mouth while keeping you still. She begins moving her finger slowly in and out of your entrance, the feeling was magnified as Ms. Anderson teased your clit with her tongue. Moans begin slipping from your lips, you have to bite your lip to avoid from getting too loud. You’ve never, ever felt anything like this, this amount of pleasure was overwhelming. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore she adds a second finger, causing you to moan “oh ffffuck”, which made Abby groan and begin to writhe her hips into the pillows, she could come from just listening to you. She moves her fingers a bit faster, hitting a spot that makes you almost see stars, moaning every time she touches it. You feel your second orgasm coming, pleasure building to its breaking point. Abby could tell from the way you were clenching around her fingers

“You close baby?” She asks as she continues her almost inhuman pace with her fingers. “Come then, come for me princess.” Her permission was your tipping point, your hips involuntarily bucking up into her mouth. The second orgasm is even more intense than the first, moans pouring out of you uncontrollably. She pinned you down as she continued licking you clean as you rode out your high. She only lets up when you start whining from the sensitivity. You felt absolutely exhausted, but you felt as if you should return the favor for Ms. Anderson. Without a word though, she picks you up and carries you towards your bedroom. “W-wait Miss..don’t you need to-”

“Another time baby, I wanted tonight to be all about you. My turn will come when you’re more ready.” You nod slowly and let your body relax, giving in to your exhaustion after this long night. She places you in bed and walks away, quickly returning with a warm washcloth to clean you up and a large t-shirt to put you in.

“T-there’s extra pajamas in the bottom drawer.” You point to your dresser in the corner, assuming she was staying, she probably didn’t want to sleep in a suit. Ms. Anderson doesn’t respond, just sort of looks at you like she was stopping herself from saying something. “You’re not staying, are you?” It wasn’t a question, you knew she made her mind up already. She nods before getting up and kissing you on the forehead. She tucks you in gently and leaves, quietly closing the door behind her.

let me know what y'all think! Notes, comments, reposts always always appreciated <3 love ya.

#abby anderson #abby x you #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson smut #abby smut #abby x reader

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mokulule · 2 years ago

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Ghastly Glacial Goodies

What is this Moku? Another AU? Yep, sorry not sorry. It's cute okay! I'm gonna be doing illustrations and stuff. Also ice cream, who doesn't love ice cream? I blame this like 70% on @clockwaysarts cause they were playing around with a blob popsicle design (a blobsicle XD) and this thing spawned. Thanks to the people who took part in brainstorming on the Dead on Main server.

Chapter 1 - Polaris

The evening was dreary that day. Jason couldn’t tell you what had made him want to take a pre-patrol walk of all things. The light drizzle wasn’t terrible, but he’d been out so long his hair was plastered wetly to his forehead. The sun hadn’t quite gone down yet, but the clouds stole a lot of the light. A white mist had rolled in from the bay, softening the corners of buildings, and it almost made the world feel unreal. It dampened the sounds of the city and echoed his steps.

That was when he heard it, like little bells or a music box, a haunting tune. He frowned and followed the beckoning sound. He knew that melody, though it played a bit slow. What was the name again? He walked, unknowingly matching the notes as they slowly gained speed. A sense of urgency rose in his chest. He turned a corner and froze, stunned.

In the light from a hazy streetlight was an ice cream truck.

In this weather? Jason’s befuddled brain protested as he took in the downright baffling sight of the truck and the surprisingly many customers in line as well as the groups of people chatting and smiling eating ice cream in the rain.

The truck was all soft rounded edges with minty green accents, a cartoon ghost that looked as surprised as Jason felt with wide eyes and a mouth in an o decorated the side of the truck beside the counter. A quaint canopy stretched out over the counter. Its white and pastel pink stripes ended in festive tapered triangles which looked more at home at a fair, than some random street in Gotham. Apropos Jason looked up trying to figure out where he was, but didn’t find any street signs, just the sign telling him this street was a dead end.

The music was still playing, pleasant bells clinging softly. It didn’t feel so urgent now. He remembered the song suddenly: In the Hall of the Mountain King. A strange song for an ice cream truck, Jason thought as he walked to the back of the line. In the play wasn’t it for when Peer Gynt was escaping the mountain? That seemed in a way like the opposite of what an ice cream truck should signal. But then again as long as people recognized the song that would draw them in anyway. It was still a very impressive line for the weather.

The line moved slowly but steadily. The happy chatter was like a comforting blanket of background noise and Jason felt his shoulders slowly relax. He reached a sign that showed off various shaped ice creams on sticks in the shape of what looked like cartoon people and a happy green… blob? with red eyes called a blobsicle. It was a ghost Jason suddenly realized, of course that was the theme going by the truck.

Polaris the sign said in big swirly letters and then underneath in a smaller type it said “Ghastly Glacial Goodies” - someone had really wanted the alliteration there, Jason thought bemused. That person might be the young man behind the counter who just wished a girl and her mother a good night, before turning to the last person before Jason. I was hard to judge the man’s height since he was inside the truck, but he struck Jason as short, he was on the slender side an impression only enhanced by the formfitting green striped west and the way he whipped around inside the truck filling the newest order.

Apparently the current customer was buying for his friends, there had been pointing to a waving group standing a few yards away. It gave Jason another moment to ponder his options. The glass shield had stickers on it detailing the various scoopable options - they included such gems as Booberry, Spookistacchio and Rum and Raising, which had a small cartoon zombie on its sticker. Jason felt almost like he could have stayed there all day chuckling over all the silly puns, they had certainly committed to the bit.

Finally the last order was handed over with a wide smile. The ice cream guy exuded such a genuine warmth, that had nothing to do with the actual temperature - in fact it was really cold Jason noted as he sniffled to stop his nose from running.

Finally ice cream guy, Danny his name tag said, faced Jason in his classic ice cream man glory; striped vest, sleeves rolled up to his elbows he even had a silly little hat in his unruly black hair, it was a miracle it stayed on.

Danny looked a bit startled to see him, but then his smile was back and he leaned on the counter slightly to be eye level with Jason. Jason felt his breath hitch just slightly in his throat; It was almost like those blue eyes sparkled like stars.

“Why hello there, haven’t seen you around Polaris before.”

Jason shook himself out of it, grasping for something to say in return, what popped into his head was the oddity of the music, what came out was, “So are you the Troll King?”

For a moment everything was silent, then Danny burst out laughing. Hand over his mouth, he leaned on the counter. His shoulders shook as he tried to contain his snickering.

“You-“ he lost control and laughed, “are the first person” - more laughing - “to remark on the music.”

The laughter was infectious and Jason found himself chuckling. His cheeks hurt slightly from smiling. He wasn’t sure when he’d last smiled this much.

Danny finally gained control over his laughter. He peeked up at Jason through his fingers from where he was practically lying over the counter.

“Not quite the Troll King,” he snickered again before straightening up and gesturing around himself “but welcome to my castle of ghastly glacial goodies.”

“Did you have to think hard on that one?”

Danny’s face turned mock serious. “You have no idea, there were even thesauruses involved.” Then in a lower voice he added to himself, “violent little bastards.”

“What was that?” Jason said, not sure he heard that right.

“Never mind,” Danny smiled, “so what can I do for you? You’re my last customer of the night.”

Jason frowned confused and looked around. To his shock, somehow everyone had left without him even noticing, it was just him, Danny and the truck in the lamplight. He had to be really off his game tonight maybe he was coming down with a cold. He sniffled again and saw Danny frown worriedly. Ice cream wasn’t suitable for the wet weather, but it seemed silly to have stood in line and not get any.

“Do you have any recommendations?”

“Well, all ice cream is made by yours truly so I can’t really pick a favorite, but bloop of the month is Rum and Raising.”

Of course it was the zombie one, wait-

“Bloop?”

“Yeah instead of scoops? I was told it was cuter than gloops.”  Jason blinked.

“Here let me show you.” Danny grabbed a cone and expertly swirled the ice cream scoop round his fingers once before scooping up a mostly round ball of Rum and Raising and plopping it in the cone, he then considered for moment before adding another scoop, this time of “Cosmic Crunch”. He then pressed four small round red gummies into the ice cream, two on each “bloop” and held it out for Jason to inspect and huh, they had eyes now - a bit similar to the Blobsicle actually, except these were stacked on top of each other. It was a kinda cute idea, kids probably loved it.

Jason took the ice cream.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Four dollars, and this is on the house.“ He pushed a cardboard cup of steaming coffee towards Jason on the counter. “That will bring back a bit of life to you, you’re looking a bit ghastly.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Jason rolled his eyes, but he was feeling pretty cold and he sniffled again as he found the money and put it on the counter next to the cup. “But thanks anyway.”

“Have a good night.” Danny smiled warmly and Jason couldn’t help but smile in return. He lifted the cup as a salute and turned around to walk away. He took a small sip and instantly felt warmth spread in his chest. That really hit the spot. He kept sipping at the coffee until a drip of melted ice cream hit his fingers and reminded him of the ice cream.

Oh yeah, he had paid for this.

He licked at the droplet and quickly followed it back up the cone to make sure there would be no more dripping. Cosmic crunch he quickly discovered was hazelnut with lots of crunchy nuts and he didn’t really know how to classify the rest. There was something indefinably delicious about it. Yes, it was all the things ice cream should be, creamy, smooth, rich, but there was something more. Like something he never knew he needed. Before he realized it he was down to the last bits and biting into the cone. Only a few more bites and it was gone.

That was-

It was easily the most delicious ice cream he ever had, but not only that; he felt sated, calm and almost floaty. Was the ice cream drugged? Alarmed at the thought, he spun around, but all that met him was a long empty street with no ice cream truck in sight.

Had he really walked that far already?

He would track down the ice cream truck later. He looked at his phone, it was almost midnight. How odd… He must have stood in line longer than he thought. No patrol was happening tonight, he realized with a yawn. He was much too tired.

The walk to his apartment was a blur, and it felt like it was only a couple of steps until he fell over on top of his bed, clothes and all. Everything was so fuzzy and nice.

Jason slept with no nightmares.

Okay, so this is definitely a small back burner project I'm working on, so don't expect any regular-ish updates, they are gonna happen when they happen. And now that I've gotten that out of my system I can hopefully focus writing the next bit for Catnip.

#dp x dc #dead on main #it's cute #and kinda spooky #Jason has no idea what's going on #do you?#Danny is indeed not the troll king but he is something of a troll #Danny has an ice cream truck AU #cause he's got ice powers #it needed to happen #was considering for a moment if Danny would freeze actual blobs for the blobsicles #or if just ectoenhanced ice cream #Jason is dead adjacent #Polaris #ghastly glacial goodies

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traceyc-uk · 4 months ago

Note

Your turn!! What kind of arts or media have influenced your style and motivated you to draw? What are the things that make you go like "oh I MUST draw this"??

Returning this ask sorry it took so long, my influences were from video game arts but I would’ve loved to of had access to anim as easily like you. Besides the usual Disney and Don Bluth growing up, I was absolutely fascinated with game art and miss the days of game manuals that come with art in the box 🥲

These days I draw to improve on storytelling and get back into traditional since I’d stopped after moving into CG, then Unreal, but inspired by recent shows like Arcane, Demon Slayer and Love, Death and Robots. What makes me go ‘I must draw this’? In some ways to give myself closure on quests or give dumb observations on HL similar to many in this fandom 😅 like this, my very first HL post

#ama #arts a little rough but I didn’t want to spend too long on it #I know there’s multiple versions of Link but I love the Zelda series 😭#they definitely influenced my art style #sora is tiny because I don’t like him but can’t deny I liked the art at the time

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livdomtruther · 3 months ago

Text

INKED LOVE.

Dominik's eyebrows furrowed as he hurried to Liv's place, his heart pounding with worry. Her call had been urgent, her voice laced with anxiety, so he had rushed over, expecting some kind of emergency. But now, sitting in her cozy living room with fairy lights casting a soft glow on the walls, he found himself forcibly seated in front of a small, cluttered table. The air smelled faintly of lavender, a scent he associated with Liv, but it did little to calm his confusion.

Liv, with a determined expression, leaned over his arm, carefully filling in the intricate swirls of his tattoo with a glittery marker. Each stroke of the pen shimmered under the light, making his normally dark ink blaze with vibrant colors. She seemed completely engrossed in her work, tongue poking slightly out in concentration as she added silver to the edges.

"So this was the emergency?" he asked, trying to hide the grin threatening to break through his stern expression. Despite himself, a soft chuckle escaped. He watched as the golds, pinks, and blues melded into his skin.

"Mmhmm..." Liv hummed absently, her eyes never leaving her task. She didn't spare him even a glance, her brow furrowed with the same determination she must have imagined he had when he came rushing through her door. She moved the marker with precision, considering each color choice like an artist would a masterpiece, ensuring every line and curve was filled just right.

Dominik couldn't help but feel the tension drain from his shoulders. The absurdity of it all—how he had raced here thinking the worst, only to end up as a canvas for Liv's impromptu art—was too ridiculous not to smile at.

He couldn't help but admire her in that moment. Liv’s face was framed by strands of loose hair, the soft light catching in her eyes, making them glimmer with an ethereal glow. To Dominik, her beauty felt almost unreal—like she had been plucked from a dream and brought into his reality. How did he manage to be with her? Liv was an angel in his eyes, incapable of doing any wrong. She exuded a warmth that soothed his worries and made the world outside of this room fade away.

As her delicate fingers moved across his skin, he began to relax, sinking into the gentle rhythm of her touch. The glide of the markers across his arm was surprisingly calming, even when her long stiletto nails brushed against his skin, sending a ticklish shiver up his spine. Yet, instead of discomfort, it filled him with a peculiar sense of tranquility, like he could stay in this moment forever.

He suddenly noticed how she had shifted from simply coloring in his tattoos to drawing little doodles on the unmarked patches of his arms—tiny stars, hearts, and smiley faces, all in a vibrant, glittery pink. The sight of her focus, the way her brow furrowed as she drew each whimsical design, made him chuckle, a sound that echoed warmly between them.

"You're quite the artist," he teased, his voice light. But then, as the words left his lips, a thought flickered through his mind, his expression shifting from playful to contemplative. An idea took root, and his eyes widened with a sudden excitement.

"You should draw me a tattoo, baby," he said, the suggestion tumbling out before he could second-guess it. His words made Liv pause, the marker hovering just above his skin. She looked up at him, and for a moment, there was a silence between them, filled only with the soft hum of the room. Then her eyes lit up, sparkling with an infectious enthusiasm that made his heart skip a beat.

"Really?" she asked, a grin spreading across her lips, her excitement almost palpable. Dominik felt his own smile deepen in response, the promise of something new and special between them settling in the air.

He cupped her cheeks with his hands, the freshly colored-in tattoos catching the light, making them shimmer with every subtle movement. The glittery designs sparkled against his skin, and Liv couldn't help but giggle at the sight, her laughter soft and warm between them. A rosy flush spread across her cheeks, creeping up to her ears. No matter how long they had been together, Dominik’s touch always had a way of making her heart race, making her feel like she was falling in love with him all over again.

"Mhm, orrr..." he drawled, his voice playful as he let the words hang in the air. He had brought this idea up before, hinting at it with subtle suggestions, but she had never seemed entirely sure. Dominik didn’t want to push her into anything she wasn’t comfortable with—he knew that wasn't the way. But today, with her hands still holding a glittery marker and the air between them humming with unspoken possibilities, he felt a little braver.

"How about we get matching tattoos, and you draw them?" he proposed, his tone softening as he tilted his head slightly, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. His touch was tender, tracing the heat that lingered there from her blush.

Liv’s eyelashes fluttered, and she bit her lip, her playful demeanor turning thoughtful. She hesitated, the question hanging in the air between them as she pondered his suggestion. Her brow furrowed slightly, uncertainty reflecting in her eyes as she met his gaze. "But where would we even get them, hm?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of genuine curiosity as she considered the idea.

Dominik’s grin widened at her question, a spark of excitement lighting up his face. "How about behind our ears, where it’s a little secret just for us? Or we could put them on our ankles, something small and simple," he suggested, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand never left her cheek, his thumb still tracing slow, soothing circles on her skin as he watched her reaction closely. He could see the wheels turning in her mind, the thought of sharing something so permanent, so uniquely theirs, dancing behind her eyes.

Liv slowly turned her head, her eyes narrowing as she studied both of Dominik’s arms, searching for the perfect spot. She took her time, scanning each line and curve, before gently grabbing his right arm. With a shy smile, she pointed to a bare patch of skin on his right wrist, where the smoothness of his skin was unbroken by ink. "How about here?" she suggested softly, her cheeks still flushed with a lingering warmth that she couldn’t quite hide.

Dominik raised a brow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Somebody wants our matching tattoos to be on display, hm?" he teased, his voice carrying a mischievous lilt. Liv rolled her eyes dramatically, but a smile tugged at her lips, betraying her playful mood.

"I'm going to poke your eyes out with my nails, I swear," she shot back, waving her glittery marker-clad fingers in a mock threat. But her expression softened again, and she let out a small, thoughtful sigh. "Yeah, I’d like for our tattoos to be there for everyone to see. You usually wear long pants for your gear, and behind the ear isn't always visible." Her voice was shy but earnest, as if she was revealing a little piece of her heart with each word.

The sincerity of her words made Dominik’s smirk melt into a wide grin, a rush of affection flooding through him. Without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around her and began smothering her face in a flurry of playful, enthusiastic kisses. Liv squealed in surprise, dissolving into fits of giggles as she tried to squirm away from his affectionate attack. Her laughter rang through the room, bright and infectious, making his chest feel light and warm.

After what felt like an eternity of kisses, Dominik finally pulled back, leaving her breathless and still giggling in his arms. He met her eyes with a bright, boyish excitement as he spoke up again. "Sooo... I could probably get us an appointment with my artist for today even," he said, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. His smile was as wide as ever, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, hoping to see the same excitement mirrored in Liv's expression.

Liv felt her heart flutter, a bundle of nerves twisting in her chest. She was still a bit hesitant, unsure if she was truly ready to commit to something so permanent. But then she looked at Dominik's face—his eyes bright with eagerness, his smile wide and genuine—and her resolve melted like ice in the sun. She couldn't resist that genuine excitement, the way he made everything feel a little less scary and a little more like an adventure.

"Only if I get to color in your other arm," she countered, trying to sound stern but barely hiding the playful smirk tugging at her lips. She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping to keep up the pretense of negotiation, though inside, she was already caving.

Dominik let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes dramatically as if the idea was a burden. "Hmmm..." he dragged out the sound, pretending to ponder her demand, but the glint in his eyes gave him away. When he noticed her narrowing her eyes at him, arms still crossed and her glare pointed right at him, he couldn't hold back a laugh.

"I'm joking, I'm joking!" he said quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender, a wide grin splitting his face. "Whatever makes my pretty girl happy, I'll let you do," he added, his voice softening as he reached out to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Liv’s cheeks burned, and she quickly turned her head, trying to hide the flush that spread across her face. "Whatever," she muttered, but her lips quirked up into a small smile as she reached for another pack of glittery markers, eager to dive back into their playful project.

As she fiddled with the new markers, Dominik leaned closer, his tone growing a little more serious. "Remember to draw our tattoo, mkay?" he reminded her, his words gentle but filled with a hopeful undercurrent. He was trusting her with this, letting her creativity shape the symbol that would connect them.

Liv nodded, her fingers brushing over the colored caps of the markers as she thought. After a moment of quiet, she glanced back up at him, her voice soft as if she were sharing a secret. "How do you feel about yin and yang tattoos?" she asked, her tone gentle, as if she wasn’t sure how he’d react to the idea. The question hung in the air between them, as she hoped he’d see the meaning behind the suggestion—a symbol of balance, of two halves that complemented each other perfectly, just like them.

"I absolutely love that idea!" Dominik replied with a burst of enthusiasm, his smile so wide that it made Liv’s heart swell with warmth. In that moment, she felt like her chest might burst from the rush of affection that flooded her. He made everything feel so easy, so right, and his excitement washed away any lingering doubts she had about their matching tattoos.

A few minutes passed, and Liv had settled back into her artistic rhythm, leaning over his arm with careful concentration. This time, the soft, soothing tunes of Laufey played in the background, filling the room with a gentle melody that helped her focus. It wasn’t too loud, just the right volume to fill the space without distracting her from her work.

“Pass me the silver, baby,” she asked gently, her eyes focused on a delicate detail she was adding to his arm. Dominik grabbed a marker and handed it over, but she didn’t notice right away that he had passed her the gold one instead. As she colored in a small section, her brows suddenly furrowed, realizing the mix-up.

“Babe, I said the silver one...” she giggled, glancing up at him with an amused smile. The realization struck Dominik, and he broke into laughter, the sound rich and warm as it filled the room. He leaned closer to her, his shoulder bumping playfully against hers as he laughed. The warmth of his body against hers made the moment even sweeter.

Liv couldn't help but join in, her own laughter mingling with his. She reached out and interlocked their arms, pulling him closer as they shared in the lighthearted moment. For a second, they just stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s laughter, the air between them filled with a carefree joy that made her heart feel light.

“I didn’t think the silver would really show or look good,” he admitted through his giggles, his eyes crinkling with mirth as he watched her reaction. There was a mischievous glint in his eye, as if he’d known all along what he was doing.

Liv rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the smile that tugged at her lips. “Well, mister creative direction, let’s see how this turns out then,” she teased back, dipping the gold marker back into its cap before reaching for the silver one herself. Dominik’s laughter softened into a fond smile, his gaze lingering on her as she went back to work, feeling like there was no place in the world he’d rather be than right here, sharing this moment with her.

Liv spent about two hours meticulously coloring in his tattoos, each stroke of her marker applied with care and precision. Dominik sat there patiently, not moving an inch, making sure she had the perfect canvas to work on. He could feel her focus in the way she worked, and he didn’t want to break that concentration, not when she was so absorbed in her little art project. Meanwhile, he managed to get them both an appointment with his tattoo artist for later that day, sealing their plans for the matching tattoos.

By the time Liv was done, she leaned back, taking in the final result with a bright, amused smile. Dominik’s arms were a riot of glittery colors, catching the light with every small movement he made. His skin shimmered with gold, pink, silver, and all the shades in between. Liv couldn’t contain her giggles, her joy bubbling up as she admired her handiwork, while Dominik watched her with a fond smile.

He wasn't even the slightest bit upset about being turned into a human disco ball. Seeing his güerita so happy made everything worth it, and the way her laughter lit up her face made his heart feel full.

"I have no clue how I'm going to explain this to my tattoo artist," he chuckled, shaking his head at the sheer absurdity of the situation. His voice held a note of mock exasperation, but there was no hiding the warmth in his eyes as he watched Liv's cheeks flush from her laughter.

After a good hour of Liv diligently helping Dominik wipe all the glittery marker off his skin, he finally drove them both to the tattoo parlor. The car ride was filled with laughter, music blaring from the speakers as they sang along to their favorite songs. The atmosphere was light and carefree, a perfect prelude to the adventure that lay ahead.

Once they arrived, they walked in hand in hand, Liv’s heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. She stood next to Dominik, fidgeting slightly as he spoke to his tattoo artist, her mind racing with thoughts of the tattoo that was about to become a permanent part of her.

“Mi güerita took almost one hour trying to draw this for us,” Dominik said proudly, handing over the paper with the yin and yang design. The artist took it with a nod, a smile playing on his lips as he examined the artwork.

After about twenty minutes of chatting and preparing, they were finally ushered into the tattooing room. Dominik’s thumb gently caressed Liv’s hand, a soft, reassuring touch that helped her feel a little more at ease. She took a deep breath, focusing on the warmth of his hand in hers, grounding herself amidst the swirling butterflies in her stomach.

Liv had decided to go first, eager to get it done quickly so she could focus on Dominik and support him afterward. As she settled into the chair, she could feel the tension building inside her, her heart racing at the thought of the needle. But throughout it all, Dominik’s gaze never left her. He watched her lovingly, his eyes filled with care and admiration, the way he always looked at her when she was at her most vulnerable.

His hand remained interlocked with hers, providing an anchor in this new experience. The sound of the tattoo machine buzzing filled the room, but Liv found comfort in Dominik’s presence. With every gentle squeeze of his hand, she felt a little more grounded, and soon enough, the nervous energy started to melt away. Being with him made everything feel better, reminding her that they were in this together.

The tattoo didn’t take as long as Liv had anticipated, and before she knew it, she was being led to the mirror to see the final result. The moment she caught sight of her wrist, her eyes widened, and she couldn’t contain her excitement any longer. She squealed with joy, a bright, infectious sound that filled the room.

She wanted the moment to be special, so she turned to Dominik, urging him to look at their tattoos at the same time. "Look at how cute!!" she exclaimed, pressing her wrist against his excitedly, her eyes sparkling with delight. The yin and yang design looked even better than she had imagined, its lines clean and vibrant, the colors representing their unique connection.

Dominik couldn’t help but admire her, a big, warm smile spreading across his face as he took in her reaction. Her excitement was absolutely adorable, a light that made the entire experience even more meaningful. He felt a rush of happiness watching her revel in their shared moment, the love they held for one another shining brightly.

He looked down at his own wrist, where the matching tattoo sat proudly beside hers. He was just as thrilled with how it turned out. While Dominik was used to getting tattoos and had grown accustomed to the sensation of the needle, this experience was different. He had Liv by his side, her hand intertwined with his throughout the entire process. Even though he was familiar with the feeling, her touch ignited a fluttering sensation in his stomach, sending butterflies dancing with each squeeze of her fingers.

In that moment, as they stood side by side, both wearing their new tattoos with pride, the world around them faded away. It was just the two of them, their hearts connected by ink and love, and neither of them could imagine a more perfect way to celebrate their bond.

Dominik’s hands found their way to Liv’s hair, ruffling it gently, a tender gesture that sent a rush of warmth through her. He leaned down slightly, their height difference making his actions even more affectionate as he looked deep into her eyes, searching for that spark of connection they always shared. “You wanna get some tacos?” he asked, his voice low and soft, his gaze unwavering and full of adoration.

Liv’s heart fluttered at his words, a smile blooming on her lips as she stared back into his eyes. “Mhm, sounds good!” she replied, her excitement evident in her voice. The atmosphere around them felt electric, the air thick with an unspoken tension as they held each other’s gaze, lost in the moment. Time seemed to stand still as they leaned closer, both of them caught up in the intimacy of their shared space.

But just as their lips were about to touch, the tattoo artist’s voice suddenly broke the spell. “Can you two get a room?” he teased, and they both pulled away, laughter bubbling up between them at the interruption. It was a lighthearted moment that drew them back to reality, but the warmth of the encounter lingered.

After exchanging playful glances and a few more giggles, they left the tattoo parlor, their hands still intertwined as they walked outside into the bustling afternoon. The sun bathed the street in a warm golden light, casting soft shadows as they made their way to Dominik’s car. The scent of fresh paint and antiseptic lingered in the parlor, but as they stepped into the open air, the rich aroma of food began to envelop them.

The drive to the taco truck was filled with a comfortable silence punctuated by laughter and playful banter. As they approached the truck, the vibrant colors of the painted vehicle caught Liv’s eye—bright greens, yellows, and reds, all blending together to create an inviting atmosphere. The sound of sizzling meats and the chatter of hungry customers filled the air, making her stomach growl in anticipation.

Dominik parked the car and they hopped out, the sun warming their skin as they walked towards the truck. The tantalizing smell of grilled carne asada and fresh tortillas wafted toward them, making Liv’s mouth water. The truck was adorned with colorful murals depicting traditional Mexican sscene.

They joined the line, the excitement palpable as they browsed the menu plastered on the side of the truck. Liv’s eyes lit up at the various options—each one sounding more mouthwatering than the last. She could see the steam rising from the grill, and the sight of perfectly charred meat and freshly chopped cilantro sent her taste buds into a frenzy.

As they stepped up to the taco truck, the warm, rich aroma of freshly grilled meats filled the air. Dominik leaned in with a familiar smile and greeted the vendor with a friendly wave. “¡Hey, Solange, ha sido mucho tiempo, ¿no?” (Hey, Solange, it's been a while, no?) he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth. Liv stood beside him, picking up on the familiar sounds of Spanish she had learned over time, thanks to Dominik. From the easy way he spoke, she could tell that Solange must have been an old friend of his.

Solange, a lively woman with a welcoming smile, looked up from the grill, her eyes brightening at the sight of Dominik. “¡Dom, sí que ha pasado tiempo! Veo que trajiste a tu novia por primera vez,” (Dom, it's been awhile! I see you brought your girlfriend for the first time.) she replied with a playful smirk, her tone carrying a teasing edge that made Dominik chuckle.

Liv, catching enough of the conversation to understand, smiled warmly at Solange, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks. The older woman turned her attention to Liv for a moment, her eyes crinkling kindly. “Es una belleza,” (She's a beauty.) Solange added, her voice sincere as she gave Liv an approving nod.

Liv’s blush deepened, but her smile grew even wider, feeling welcomed into this little part of Dominik’s world. Dominik’s smirk softened as he glanced at Liv, then back at Solange, pride shining in his eyes. “Lo sé, toda mía,” (I know, all mine.) he replied confidently, his voice playfully possessive as he wrapped an arm around Liv’s shoulders, pulling her a little closer against him.

Liv leaned into his touch, her heart fluttering as she felt the warmth of his arm around her. Solange watched them, her smile widening at their obvious affection for one another. The moment felt like a snapshot in time—Dominik introducing Liv to a piece of his past, sharing a part of himself that was familiar and meaningful. It was more than just ordering food; it was like blending their lives together, one small but significant gesture at a time.

“Amorcita, ¿te gustan los tacos de birria?” (Love, do you like birria tacos?) Dominik asked Liv, his voice gentle as he spoke the question in Spanish. He watched her closely, a soft smile on his face as he waited for her answer. Liv’s eyes lit up with excitement, sparkling as she eagerly nodded, her enthusiasm clear.

Solange’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, her expression curious. “¿Tu güerita entiende español?” (Your güerita understands spanish?) she asked, clearly taken aback. It was rare for her to see someone outside their community who not only understood but appreciated the language and culture.

Liv gave a gentle smile, her cheeks flushed with pride as she responded, "Y puedo hablarlo,” (And I can speak it) she said smoothly in Spanish, her tone warm as she glanced up at Dominik. “Todo gracias a este hombre guapo que es mío,” (It's all thanks to this handsome man that's mine.) she added with a playful grin, nudging Dominik lightly.

Solange’s surprise melted into delight, her hands coming together in an excited clap. “¡Mira nada más!” she exclaimed, clearly pleased by this unexpected twist. Dominik couldn’t hide the pride that beamed from his face, his grin wide and unrestrained. He loved seeing Liv connect with this part of his life, and her efforts to learn Spanish always made his heart swell.

“Dame dos combos de tacos de birria,” (Give me two combos of birria tacos.) Dominik said, turning back to Solange, his voice carrying the easy confidence of someone who felt right at home. Solange nodded, her smile lingering as she turned to start their order. “Muy bien, sólo siéntense allá y espérenme,” (Alright, just sit over there and wait for me.) she instructed, gesturing to a nearby table where they could wait for their food.

Liv and Dominik nodded in unison, thanking Solange before making their way over to the small picnic table under the shade of a tree. They sat side by side, enjoying the warm afternoon and the hum of life around them, their hands casually brushing against each other. The anticipation of the meal made everything feel even more special.

Soon enough, Solange appeared with their order, balancing two steaming plates of birria tacos, their aroma rich and mouthwatering. She handed over the plates with a warm smile, but before she turned to leave, she leaned in close to Liv, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Le gustas mucho, de verdad,” (he really likes you) she murmured, her eyes twinkling.

Liv felt her heart skip a beat, a warm glow spreading through her chest at Solange’s words. She looked up at the woman, her own smile growing soft and grateful. “Gracias,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible over the bustling sounds around them. As Solange walked away, Liv turned back to Dominik, their eyes meeting in a shared moment of unspoken understanding, and she couldn’t help but feel like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

Dominik had never been the type to take selfies or pictures; he always found himself more comfortable behind the scenes, appreciating life without the lens. But ever since Liv came into his life, something shifted. There was a new warmth in the ordinary moments they shared, a kind of magic he suddenly wanted to capture and hold onto. So, slowly, he grew fond of pulling out his phone to freeze those little memories in time.

As Liv took her first eager bite into one of the birria tacos, her eyes closed in delight, savoring the rich flavor and the warmth of the tortilla against her lips. Dominik couldn’t resist the urge. He pulled out his phone, positioning the camera just right, and snapped a quick picture of her, the taco halfway to her mouth, her expression full of pure, unfiltered joy. A small smear of sauce clung to the corner of her lips, and she looked radiant, glowing in the golden light filtering through the trees.

He took another shot, this time framing their wrists together, their matching yin and yang tattoos catching the sunlight. The contrast between his darker, inked skin and her softer, lighter tone made the design stand out even more, their wrists pressed together in a perfect symbol of their connection. The tattoos shimmered faintly under the sunlight, the freshly inked lines still bold against their skin. He knew that years from now, he would look back at this picture and remember how this simple moment, sitting together at a taco truck, had meant everything.

Liv noticed the click of the camera and turned towards him, her lips curving into a playful smirk. “You’re so obsessed with me,” she teased, her voice light but her eyes holding a knowing warmth. She reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the gesture soft and casual.

Dominik looked up from his phone, catching her gaze, and without missing a beat, he nodded with a grin that reached his eyes. “Always,” he replied, his voice sincere, the word holding a weight that went beyond the joke. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, but not before taking a moment to admire the pictures he had just taken. The sight of her, happy and unguarded, was something he knew he’d cherish long after the tacos were gone and the day had faded into memory.

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