#too many ps problems

[asukachii]

"Besides, you're here too".

(I don’t like putting watermarks so, PLEASE, if you want to post these gifs somewhere GIVE CREDITS! Also, don’t use them in edits/videos. Thanks~)

[borathae]

Lunch Break | MYG x f.Reader

“Min Yoongi is many a thing in your life. Coworker, superior, best friend and beloved long-term boyfriend. Yes, that’s right. You are dating your boss. It’s a lot easier than it sounds. You get to live together, get to go to work together and get to spend lunch break together. Problem is, Yoongi decided to wear his pretty blue button-up today and this shirt has a rather lethal effect on you. Thankfully, he has his own private office.“

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: coworkers!AU, established relationship!AU, office romance!AU, Smut

Warnings: office worker!yoongles in glasses <3, soft boyfie!yoongles who is shy about pda <3, secret cuddlebug!yoongles, unapologetic flirting by OC while he blushes, spending lunch break in his office, sub!Yoongi, soft Domme!Reader, a quickie in his office chair, clothed sex (he only takes his dick out and she keeps her skirt on), blowjob, handjob, a lil bit of edging, unprotected penetrative sex, kissing, slight dirty talk, lipstick stains all over his lips and neck, finger sucking (m.giving), not a lot of kink is happening tbfh she is horny and he can't say no to her cause he is also horny but would never confess it jdfjsa, this is cute and sexy (just like yoongi)

Wordcount: 5.5k

a/n: yet again, this is an idea from kinktober24 which didn't make it on the official list but which i NEEDED on my blog <3 subby office worker!yoongi is my secret weakness and this yoongi is just so dreamy 💜 ps: happy birthday boongs, i really miss you :(

“Have you seen my glasses?” he asks, busy with packing his bag.

“They’re on your head, baby”, you tell him, putting on lipstick.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Always happy to help.”

You finish. Yoongi swerves in behind you, running his hand over your waist innocently. Your body communicates with him easily, moving out of the way so he can use the hallway mirror next.

He makes sure that his button up sits correctly, while you put on your heels and jacket. He glances at you over the brim of his glasses.

“Wait. Let me”, he offers, helping you slip it on.

“Thank you.”

He kisses your cheek and steps back, picking up his thermos of coffee and the car keys.

“Are we ready to go?”

“Wait, last check. Yup, we’re ready.”

You and he live on the fourth floor, taking the elevator down to the apartment complex’ parking garage. You hold hands as you walk to your car together and you hold his thermos while he drives. He rubs your knee each time you stop at a red light, while you hand him the thermos so he can enjoy his morning coffee.

You and he don’t talk a lot, sharing silence which a podcast fills. The two of you have become obsessed with listening to a music podcast together. It’s been your background noise while you cook, clean and wash up at night and while you drive to work together. It is a really nice tradition because you and he have so much more to talk about.

If this story didn’t make it clear up until this point, you and Yoongi are together. You met at work seven years ago and fell in love two years later. He asked you if you wanted him as your boyfriend on your fourth date and last year in June, you asked him if he wanted to look for a shared apartment.

Dating him is easy because he is the most lovable person ever and disagreements between you and him are beyond rare. And if they happen, they are always healthy and calm. He makes you feel loved daily and ever since you and he moved in together, you feel settled in life. As if he is truly it for you. The one true love you will always have.

Dating him is also incredibly fun and exciting. He is quiet and calm on most days, but sometimes he gets really hyper and dorky and it always makes you laugh when he goofs around.

In return, Yoongi constantly finds himself with an aching belly from laughing too much with you. Just as much as he feels at peace. Being with you feels safe and as if he is finally where he always belonged.

Dating however, also means that you are in love with your co-worker and you have to act professional at your workplace. Which is sometimes very difficult to do because you are basically obsessed with him.

Your other colleagues know that you and he are together, your higher ups know too. It was a little bit of a scandal at first, but they simply had to learn to live with it. You and Yoongi are a thing which will keep being a thing. So it isn't like you and he are a secret, but Yoongi is also very shy about public displays of affection. Especially when it comes to PDA in a professional environment. The touchiest thing you will get from him is a cheeky shoulder rub or getting your hand held in the elevator to your office.

He also holds it on your way to your desk, greeting your shared colleagues as you pass them.

Yoongi has been at this company three years longer than you and works in management, which naturally makes him superior to you in hierarchy. It also means that he gets his own private office, while you have to share an open space office with some of your colleagues. You don’t mind because the people you work with are, thankfully, all very sweet and being so separated during work also gives you and Yoongi a sense of still being independent adults living their individual lives.

Like every morning, Yoongi leaves you by your desk.

“See you at lunch break”, he says his goodbyes, rubbing your shoulder.

“Yes. See you then.”

And then he already makes his way to his office while you get ready for the next four hours of work.

You take a short coffee break two hours into your morning shift. You do a little stretch upon standing up, then make your way to the shared break room. It is empty, safe for Yoongi who is making himself coffee. He rolled up the sleeves of his button up by now. You have to fight every single fiber in your body not to bite his lower arm. Or slap his butt for that matter. He has a really great butt.

“Well hello there handsome, fancy seeing you here”, you greet him.

Yoongi looks over his shoulder, “oh, hey. Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’m making it.”

You close the distance and back hug him, resting your cheek against him. As expected, Yoongi tenses up.

“We’re at work”, he says.

“I know and it’s just the two of us right now. I’m just really needy for you today.”

“Hush, keep your voice down”, he whispers, turning in your arms. He looks panicked. “Don’t be so dirty.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, doofus. I just think that you’re really handsome in your button up. Blue is really your colour.”

“Oh. Thanks”, he mumbles and looks to the side shyly.

“Mhm yeah” you say, gazing at him with love drunk eyes.

“Okay uhm”, he shimmies out of your hug and turns to the coffee machine. It is so obvious to you that he currently feels shy.

Which is so endearing to you. It is one of the reasons why you fell for him. In the beginning phase where you still tried to fight the tension, he was so lovably clumsy and nervous with his words whenever he talked to you and it charmed you beyond repair.

These days, one of your favourite pastime activities is flirting with him just to get him shy. He always blushes when this happens and it is so adorable.

You join his side, leaning against the counter and looking at his face. The faintest of pink adorns his cheeks. Cute.

“How’s it going?” you ask him.

“Good. I need to go through grant applications today.”

“Oh, sounds important.”

“Yeah, it is. And you?”

“Good too. I spend most of my time thinking of you.”

Yoongi glances at you for a brief moment and looks away again. He stays silent, but the blush grows.

You snicker, reaching out to give his upper arm a tender rub.

“Sorry, gosh I’m bullying you today, aren’t I?”

“A little. I don’t know how to react.”

“Sorry, I know I know. I’m already stopping. It’s your shirt, it makes me like this.”

“Why? It’s a shirt.”

“It’s a sexy shirt.”

He glances again and frowns.

“Fine, this was the last flirt, I promise”, you give up, chuckling.

Yoongi stays silent, handing you the cup of coffee. He turns to face you, leaning his hip against the counter.

“Gosh, you’re so handsome.”

“Baby, you said no more flirting”, he whines, pouting.

“I’m not flirting, I’m being honest. You’re so handsome.”

Sadly for you, a few of your co-workers enter the break room. Yoongi uses the opportunity to flee the situation. Not because he doesn’t want to spend time with you, but because he can’t take any more of your very amazing flirting.

“See you at lunch.”

“Yes, see you. Lunch. Very soon”, you say, following him with your eyes dreamily.

“So, I finally asked Mingyu for his number”, your colleague says, pulling you into a conversation about her love life. Yoongi is gone for now, but not forgotten. Of course he isn’t. The image of him in his blue button up with his sleeves rolled up will haunt you for the rest of your morning shift.

Your company is insanely generous with the amount of lunch break you are getting. A full hour of paid lunch time is part of the contract. Just like on most days, you are one of the last people to leave for lunch. Most of your colleagues leave the office to eat at some of the many restaurants in the neighbourhood. You will also leave, but have to get Yoongi first. He would forget that it was time otherwise because he always works so hard.

You greet your big boss as she passes you on her way to her lunch break and your way to Yoongi’s office. She soon disappears behind a corner.

You knock on his door.

“Come in!”

You enter the room, closing the door behind you.

“On a scale of one to ten, how hungry are you?” you ask him.

“Uh…I don’t know. I ate a granola bar twenty minutes ago, so four-ish? Why?”

“Good”, you say and lock his door.

“Why are you locking my door?”

“So I can do this and not have someone walk in on us”, you say and close the distance in big steps.

You pull him out from under his desk and turn him to you.

“Wha-”

Yoongi gets no time to complain or process what was happening and then you are already on his lap, claiming his lips in a needy kiss.

He squeaks in surprise. You get to kiss him for a good two seconds and then he breaks it. He touches his lips, gawking at you scandalized and flustered.

“What are you doing?”

“Making use of our sixty minutes. The ramen bar across the street needs five minutes to make ramen, you and I need around twenty minutes to walk over there and eat. Which gives us a good thirty five minutes extra.”

“Okay and?”

“And I’m gonna use them well.” You falter for a moment. “If you’re down too, of course.”

“No, of course I’m not down. We’re at work. People could hear us or see us”, he is whispering, eyes widened in urgency.

“We’re all alone. Even Mina left for lunch.”

Mina was your big boss and she won’t be back until three o’clock because of meetings.

“But still, I say no.”

“Ugh fine. Whatever you want”, you say and climb off his lap, “but then I wanna go somewhere else. Maybe sushi?” you suggest, turning your back to him to leave.

Yoongi ogles your butt in the skirt you are wearing. He is internally panicking. He didn’t expect you to actually accept his no so easily (which makes no sense because you always accept his no without argument). He secretly hoped for you to try and convince him, because let us be honest for a moment, Yoongi is also obsessed with you. The skirt you chose today is one of his favourites and your unapologetic flirting really made his blood boil. You are also wearing his favourite perfume and when he snuck a glance at you as you got dressed, he got a glimpse of lace panties. Yoongi loves lace panties.

“Wait, okay fine. I’m down too”, he reveals his lie.

“Really?”

He blushes and looks to the side, nodding his head.

“Oh my god, yay!” you exclaim and climb on his lap again. You cradle his face, turning it to you so you can kiss him.

He kisses you back for a little while, but then breaks it again.

“But only if we’re quiet. Please, we really have to be quiet.”

“We’ll be quiet. Just come here, you”, you promise, attacking his neck with hungry kisses.

Yoongi feels his eyes roll back and shivers run down his spine. He drops his head against the backrest of his chair, parting his lips.

“God you smell so sexy. I love this cologne on you. God, you. Mhhhm god”, you babble between your hungry kisses, driving him crazy in the process.

“Also no marks please”, he begs.

“Promise. Now relax and stop worrying.”

“Wait. Actually.”

You sit up.

“We should set a timer.”

You chuckle. He is such an awkward bean sometimes.

“Good idea, let’s set a timer.”

“I’ll do it.”

You watch him fondly as he fumbles with the timer on his watch. His lips and neck are covered in lipstick marks. His hair is a little ruffled. God, you could honestly eat this man. He is so yummy.

“Okay, timer set. Wait. You locked the door, right?”

“Yes baby, I locked the door.”

“Okay, okay. Now I’m good.”

He leans back and shifts his eyes to you.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just really like you”, you say and lean down to kiss the other side of his neck. “You’re just so perfect, Yoongi baby.”

“A-ah. Mhmmm.”

His eyes roll back and close, his lips part. His neck is so sensitive and your kisses feel incredible.

You and Yoongi started off today a little worked up. It may have been your fault because you woke up horny after a sexy dream about him and therefore engaged Yoongi in a sleepy make out session. Said session only lasted five minutes and then you both needed to get up for work. You and he tried not to address what said session did, but it definitely haunted you throughout the morning.

“Shit, baby”, you break away from his neck to whisper against his ear, making him dizzy in the process, “all I want right now is your dick in my mouth.”

He throws his hand over his mouth, gawking in shock. You snicker, fluttering your lashes playfully.

“Please be more quiet”, he whispers.

“You’re so cute”, you chuckle and kiss his ear. You slip off his lap and between his legs, making him gasp.

Your eyes meet. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are widened.

“Is this okay for me to do?”

He nods his head, breathing the shiest “yeah”.

“Thank you. God seriously, I dreamed of blowing you and it’s been driving me crazy”, you finally confess, fingers busy with opening his pants.

Yoongi’s chest lifts and sinks in a quick rhythm. He is so excited and at the same time, terribly nervous. You and he never did it at the office before. Or in public for that matter. He feels like a criminal, grasping the armrests of his chair as support.

The zipper of his pants opens quickly. You slip your hand into the front of his slacks and boxer briefs, then take out his cock. He is still only semi-hard.

“Oh god”, he croaks, shifting nervously.

“Everything still okay?”

“Yeah just. You really locked the door?”

“I did. Promise.”

“A-and you’ll be really quiet?”

“Yes, very quiet.”

You decide to take his mind off of his nerves by kissing the tip of his dick. You use your hand to massage the base and get him worked up.

Yoongi sucks in air and throws his hand over his mouth.

“Oh god”, he murmurs.

“I love your dick. You’ve got the cutest dick ever. Mhm love it so much.”

This wasn’t a lie. Yoongi has indeed a very cute dick. Now don’t misunderstand, his dick game is insane. This man knows how to make you see stars with just his cock. It’s perfect in length, in girth and in shape. There is genuinely nothing missing and also nothing which is too much. And yet, you still think that it is so cute. Just like his elbows and knees, it easily flushes pink and when you play with him just right, it leaks and twitches. When you get him really fucking worked up – to the point where he curses and spits the dirtiest words – his dick becomes veiny and oh so swollen and when you make him cum, it trembles oh so needily.

It is just such a perfect dick and right now, you take it inside to get him fully hard.

Yoongi drops his head against the chair, scrunching his face as he grinds his teeth.

This feels really good. Really, really good and if you two were at home, he would moan. But he can’t. Not here. He has to be quiet.

You are a little louder, purring in enjoyment as you suckle on his tip.

“Please not too hard”, he begs, breathing heavily.

“Mh-hm”, you assure him, rubbing his thigh and massaging his shaft. He should feel good and comfortable.

You are aware that this is something totally new and that Yoongi is very private about PDA and especially sex. The last thing you want out of this is for him to finish with a bad feeling in his tummy.

You know that you could be louder and rougher because the office is genuinely empty, but you keep it gentle for Yoongi’s sake. Sex is – after all – most enjoyable when both parties involved are totally into it.

“Is it okay how I do it?” you ask and continue the rhythm. You focus your attention on his first two inches, suckling on them while swirling your tongue around his tip.

“It’s…good”, he breathes out and chokes down his moan. It is more than good, it is amazing. Yoongi really wants to be at home right now so he can be loud.

“Yeah? Good?”

“Good…”

“Just tell me when you want something changed.”

Yoongi hums, nodding his head. He shifts in his chair, gasping for air because you sink him in as deep as you can go. His armrests croak as he tightens his fingers on them.

You purr and suck, moving your head up as you do. You increase the suction when reached his tip, swirl your tongue and sink down again. With the new rhythm asserted, you begin your hungry feast. He is so fucking delicious, throbbing between your fingers as you work him up to his potential.

Yoongi groans quietly, throwing his hands over his face for just a second before he drops them again, grasping the edge of the chair. He loves oral sex. Now granted, he loves giving it more than he does receiving it. The thing with Yoongi is that getting his dick munched on really – really – gets him there fast. He just can’t hold on for long before he is already close.

And you are really working hard today to ruin him.

“Fuck”, he chokes out under his breath.

The word fills the room with its meaning. You got him cursing.

You slip off his dick to run the tip of your tongue along his veins. He throbs needily, messying his tip more and more because you aren’t sucking it off anymore. You will have such a yummy surprise once you take him back in. 

What you are doing right now feels so intense. You are very precise with your tongue and because you are using the tip of it, the stimulation is strong and tingly. Really tingly. So tingly in fact, that Yoongi has to squirm in his chair and arch his back. 

Your tongue glides over his tip. You stop. 

“Mhm?” You look at his dick. “Oh my god, you’re so wet.”

Yoongi whines quietly, face feeling on fire. It’s so embarrassing to be called out and it makes him even wetter.

“Oh god, baby. Oh god”, you chant as you lick and suck the yummy surprise off of him. 

Yoongi tastes really good. And you aren’t saying that just to be nice. Oh no, in your past you were not afraid to tell your partners if they needed to take better care of their dicks. Yoongi genuinely tastes so good. He takes hygiene very seriously and leaks the yummiest pleasure. It’s just a little salty, but most of all it has a sweetish taste to it because he loves eating cranberries (to make his dick taste good). He is very cute. And perfect. And yummy. And fuck, you are so hungry for him. You growl quietly, sinking him back into your mouth just to suck the very soul out of his dick.

“Ah! Shhiii- Ah!” he squirms helplessly, suddenly feeling on fire. “A lot. A-a lot.”

“Mhm”, you agree as you get sloppy with his dick. You drool all over it and smear lipstick everywhere. Your hand works overtime to jerk off what you can’t fit and your left hand runs up his torso to rub his nipple over his shirt. You are insane for him. Completely starved and hungry.

Yoongi puts his right hand on the nape of your neck.

“I have to cum”, he tries oh so hard to be quiet, “I’m almost there.”

His words motivate you to focus on his tip. This always gets him there. He is so, so sensitive. And pink. And leaky. And yummy. Oh so yummy. 

“I have to cum in your mouth. Is it okay?”

You nod your head. Yoongi whimpers quietly, biting his lower lip. His fingers tighten on your head, his legs tremble. His stomach is so tight, his cock feels on fire. One more suck he is going to burst. He scrunches his nose, eyes glassy because he refuses to close them and therefore stop looking at you. You flick your tongue over his favourite spot. This was it.

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut and drops his squirming hips. 

“I’m cum-”

You purr and suck him aggressively as you slip off, squeezing your fingers around his base to stop his orgasm. His poor, flushed cock throbs, weeping in agony. He gasps and exhales heavily, hips rolling up to chase the decreasing pleasure. His eyes open, glistening sadly.

“That was mean”, he murmurs, pouting. He is squirming and pouting so, so much. As if you broke his hopeful, trusting heart.

“Sorry, you pouty”, you chuckle, kissing his shaft as an apology.

“That was so mean. It hurts”, he complains in a shaky voice, sounding close to tears. He always gets like this when you edge him. Which is why you love doing it because he is so cute when he gets sniffly in desperation. And Yoongi loves being edged. Just maybe not today. Because he is so, so, so, horny today and now his balls ache and his dick is sensitive and everything just feels too intense for the place he is currently at. Yoongi shouldn’t feel so needy in the office, but now he does and he has to sniffle and pout because of it.

“Please can I cum?” he begs you with glistening puppy eyes.

“Soon. And not in my mouth. Can I sit on you?”

He nods his head vigorously, rubbing your neck. “Please do, please.”

You stand up. Yoongi instantly reaches for you, rubbing your hips and gazing up at you with needy eyes.

“Do you have a condom?” you talk to him as you take off your panties.

“No. Why? Sorry, I don’t. I didn’t know that I had to. We agreed that we don’t have to fuck with condoms anymore because being clean and being on birth control and all that.”

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you. I don’t have one either. Guess I just have to let it run into a tissue afterwards”, you say, climbing his lap. You keep the skirt on. Yoongi loves that you do, feeling unable to stop looking at you.

“I can clean it with my mouth”, he offers.

You laugh, gazing at him.

“Or that. God you. I’m mad for you”, you say and sink down on him, swallowing his moan as you kiss him.

He bottoms out within a second and you pick up a quick rhythm. You have no time to waste. Time’s running out and you’ve got to make most of it. You’re so wet that you can easily ride him passionately.

Yoongi feels as if you just punched him in the gut. This is so fucking intense and you gave him no time to get used to it. If he didn’t have the control of a champion, he instantly would have climaxed. 

Now all he can do is gaze up at you with a pleasure contorted, flushed face and a turning head. Your lips are messy from the lipstick, your skin is radiant and your eyes are half-lidded in pleasure. He feels in presence of a goddess. The only goddess he will ever pray to and it makes his heart race as much as it makes his dick throb.

“Fuck, you feel so good”, you pant, grasping his hair at the nape of his neck.

“___”, he moans, looking up at you with an agape mouth and droopy eyes behind tilted glasses. His big hands are on your hips, holding on for support.

You fix his glasses then grab his hair again. You slow down for just a moment, sending Yoongi’s heart into overdrive when you lean down to rub the tip of your nose against his’. 

He loves nose kisses, squeezing his eyes shut as he trembles in an emotional whimper.

“Mine”, you whisper and kiss the tip of his nose. Then you straighten up and pick up where you left off.

“Ah-nhn”, he wanted to yelp, but stops himself in the last moment, opening his eyes wide and his mouth even wider.

“Do you like this?”

He nods his head, pupils dilated and fingers dimpling your hips. 

“Good. Love it too. You’ve got the best cock. So perfect.”

Yoongi’s heart is hammering against his ribcage. He feels so giddy and star-struck and so totally, completely, entirely yours. Also so sensitive. Holy fuck, he is so sensitive. He has to close his eyes otherwise the connection would have thrown him over the edge.

You caress his cheeks and ears, talking to him in a soothing, yet sexy, voice. You know that he is struggling and that he needs your voice to help him hold on.

“It’s not gonna take me long. I hope that’s okay.”

“So okay. So sensitive. Ah…”

“Always so sensitive. My cutie.”

Yoongi whimpers quietly, claiming your lips in a sloppy kiss.

Nobody would ever think this about you and him, but the two of you have such a high sex drive. Now, when you walked down a street side by side or come to work together, the public will never figure just how horny you are for each other. You are sure that most people would describe you and Yoongi as the boring couple. But this is so okay for you and him. The two of you know that you are far from boring and also way too horny for your own goods.

You have so much sex. And you have it often. So often in fact that you have perfected the art of the most satisfying quickie ever because sometimes before work, you just need to let some steam off.

Truly, you and Yoongi are masters at having quickies these days. They are so deeply satisfying and leave you and him with a good tingle in your tummies for the rest of the day.

This right now is going to be a quickie too and, man, is it fun.

The chair croaks slightly under you and Yoongi, the sounds of your heavy breathing and needy kissing fills the room just as much as the wet squelching of your bodies connecting does. You just can’t get enough, pressing yourself closer to him.

Because you only took out his dick and kept his slacks on, the fabric of them rubs against your clit. It’s rough and provides the perfect amount of pressure. It is exactly what you need now that he is running through your veins.

“I’m so into you. Yoongi, fuck.”

“___, I wanna be loud.”

“I know. Me too. Wanna be so nasty with you.”

He mewls softly, dimpling your butt. His eyes burn a little because you force tears to the surface. It feels insane. He can’t help but cry a little.

“Wanna be home.”

“I know, baby. Me too.” You whisper, running your thumb over his lips. “But you’re home. Yeah? You’ll always have a home inside me.”

Yoongi loves being loved by you. It is exactly what his tender, romantic heart needs. You are so deeply in love with him and you want all of him. Yoongi always dreamed of this kind of love and it felt unrealistic until you came around and you say stuff like “he will always have a home inside you”, which is so sexy but also so romantic and Yoongi feels gone.

He whimpers your name, taking your thumb inside his warm mouth. His eyes widen in submission as he sucks on your thumb instinctively.

“Yoongi, fuck”, you press out, grabbing the back of his head with your other hand.

He mewls around your thumb, tongue pulsing as he eagerly sucks.

The view ruins you. His pouty doll-lips are messy with your lipstick and now they are also stuffed with your thumb. His cheeks are flushed and his teary eyes are so, so submissive. The view of him is enough for you. It truly is.

“I’m so close. Are you ready?” you tell him, hips stuttering on his lap. He slips off your thumb, talking in a shaky voice.

“Already holding back. Please…”

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. What a good boy”, you rasp, pulling him into a kiss as you make yourself climax on his cock.

You reach heaven not long after, feeding him your ecstatic moan.

Yoongi whimpers, trembling and tensing up. He croaks, squeezing your ass. His high hits him. Of course it does. You are so tight and warm and your orgasmic throbbing is his weakness. He uses your mouth to keep himself quiet as he rides the waves and paints your walls white.

It is difficult to breathe afterwards. You and he are glued together, sharing air and resting your foreheads together.

“Are you okay?” you break the silence.

“Yeah, dizzy. You?”

“Dizzy too.” You exhale deeply, then kiss his cheek.

Yoongi leans into it, heart racing like crazy. He giggles, setting you off which ends in you and him having a secret giggle fit in his office.

“Why would we do that?” you say as you wipe the lipstick from his neck and face.

“I don't know. We’re so bad.”

“We’re awful. Oh my god. It was so much fun though.”

“It was. But it can’t be a regular thing.”

“Yeah. It’s probably for the best if we controlled ourselves.”

“Yes, it is.”

The timer goes off. Yoongi switches it off, meeting your eyes.

“Perfect timing.”

“Urgh god”, he drops his head back, “you’re actually so bad for me. Why would you make me do that in public?”

“Hey, it takes two. If you didn’t want this too, you would have said so. Don’t blame me.”

Yoongi whines and pouts, because he knows that you were right. You snicker, pecking his cheek.

“Now about food. I think I’m taking the tissue because it’s faster and I’m hungry.”

“Sure. Here”, Yoongi gets it for you and helps you off his cock without making a mess. He even wipes for you, which is deeply intimate and makes you love him more. He hands you your panties.

“Thanks, my love.”

“Yeah.”

He throws the tissue away, wrapped in another tissue, while you put on your panties. And as you use his office mirror to fix yourself up, he stuffs his cock back into his slacks and fixes his clothes. He stands up, closing the distance to you. His arm slings around your waist, his hand rests on your side. He runs his other hand through his hair.

“You’re so handsome.”

“And you’re beautiful”, he retorts, meeting your eyes. “I won’t be able to look at our outfits normally ever again.”

“Me neither. I might get tingly each time you wear this shirt from now on.”

He smiles cutely, resting his cheek against your arm as he hugs your middle.

“Me too with your skirt”, he murmurs and giggles.

You melt into him, giving him your most adoring smile. He is such a cuddly bean in private. It is the most adorable thing about him.

“Gosh you”, you ruffle his hair, “you’re so cute.”

“Yaah love, I just fixed my hair”, he whines.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry. Here, let me. Although, I think that messy hair suits you.”

“Well, not at work. I’m supposed to be proper. Do I still have lipstick somewhere?”

“You’re fine, you shy baby. Am I proper?”

“Yeah, you’re pretty. You should put on more lipstick though, it’s gone.”

“I’m doing it after lunch. Just gonna eat it all off anyway. So ramen?”

“Yes, ramen. You’re paying, for seducing me.”

“Wow okay”, you laugh, “says mister Adonis himself in his blue shirt. It’s your own fault for being so sexy.”

He snickers cutely, holding your hand as you leave the office.

“I’m kidding. I’m paying.”

“No, it’s alright. I can pay.”

“No, I’m paying”, he insists and puts your arm around his waist so you are holding him.

“Fine. Gosh, you’re so cuddly right now. I love it”, you say, holding him happily.

[ssahotchnerr]

Mom!friend reader bringing everyone cute lunches at the bau with personalized little notes for each person 😭 maybe hotch doesn’t even know that you do this for the others too so when someone mentions readers cooking, he’s like “wat”

personalized

ADORABLE cw; bau!fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of food, fluff and aaron being cute <3

the pace at which aaron was moving must've been more intense than he intended and realized; as he hurried past jj's desk, the small draft that followed caused a small piece of paper to flutter to the ground.

uttering an apology, aaron immediately reached down to pick it up. however it had landed face up, and his eyebrows furrowed in small confusion as he caught a glimpse of its contents.

your familiar handwriting kept his eyes, instead of peering away as he normally would - 'my sweet jj! thank you so much for your help on the arizona case file, you're a total lifesaver and your expertise is always appreciated, hope you know that. enjoy <3 ps - your new lavender sweater is the cutest. must plan a shopping day w/ pen soon!'

aaron's eyebrows stayed in that confused line, his eyes shifting up to jj's in a silent question.

"came with the cookies." jj answered for him, pointing her head towards the tupperware container perched on her desktop.

instantly aaron's mind made the connection - so that's why you were up late baking. that made more sense; the time you had spent baking was much too long for the small plateful quantity he had found reserved for him and jack this morning.

"pretty girl sure knows how to cook." derek added into the conversation as he approached the cluster of desks, raising his hand to pat aaron on the back but stopped himself halfway - aaron shot him a pointed look, hiding his own amusement, while jj attempted to conceal her smile with her palm.

another eyebrow furrow. "and when have you had her cooking?"

"here and there. always comes with a note too. i could just about fill a desk drawer with how many i have." derek admitted, with his signature, vivid grin. "she may be yours, we get special treatment too, y'know."

a bit later, you strolled into aaron's office, juggling numerous files in your hands.

"as requested," you started, dropping them firmly onto aaron's desk. "five action reports, minus dave's. he told me when you're as experienced and italian as he is, you can slack off and kinda get away with it. but i think that's his fancy way of admitting he's old." you joked with a eye roll.

"thank you," aaron flashed you a smile, sorting through his current papers. assuming that was all, you spun on your heel to head out and return to the everlasting joy of paperwork, but, aaron's voice stopped you.

"hey hold it, c'mere a sec."

you pulled back one of the chairs in front of hiss desk, the legs producing a scraping noise against the floorboards, but aaron gestured for you to come around. your eyes darted in the direction of his open blinds, then back at him. 'you sure?'

aaron nodded in confirmation. and if you needed any more convincing, once in reach you were pulled onto his lap, his hold on you tight.

if he wasn't being a stickler on the open affection, neither were you; you relaxed yourself against him just as you would normally, your body melting into his and throwing your arms loosely around his neck. "what's up?"

"i didn't know you wrote the team notes."

"oh," you laughed softly, with a light shake of your head. by habit your fingers ran along the skin of aaron's neck, scratching the nape of his hair gently. "yeah, if i bring in lunch or a treat or something. or both. or sometimes just because. an appreciation reminder."

aaron nodded, his fingers drumming against your hip comfortably.

"that's not a problem, is it?"

"well," aaron pretended to think, his hand changing motions and sliding up and down your side, "yes."

"actually?" you blurted as your own fingers paused. that wasn't the answer you expected, and it caused a rush of nervous heat to pool within you. until, you saw the feigned, solemn expression on his face.

aaron peered down at you, his playful eyes canceling out the forced pout on his lips. under his breath, he mumbled humorously, "i thought i was the only one getting notes."

you laughed brightly, the joy within the sound immediately bringing a smile to aaron's lips. "oh don't worry, they don't get the lipstick smooch on theirs. that's reserved for you and you only."

"i would hope not."

"or the, occasional... explicitness."

"again, i would hope not." aaron laughed again. his lips graced your temple, lingering gently as he spoke, "you're sweet."

"a very wise, very attractive person once said, 'people need to know they're important'." your lips quirked into a loving smile, a glint in your eyes. "thought this would be an easy way - i learned from the best."

[pazziescapism]

Break Our Ice - Chapter 4

pairing: paige x azzi

wc: 12.1k

au fic what??, figureskater!Azzi x icehockeyplayer!Paige

fake dating, just like playful banter teasing relationship to lovers, basically paige and azzi dancing around each other

a/n: HI GUYS!! i am truly sorry for the wait i have no idea why this chapter took me so long, honestly this is definitely my least favourite chapter and sorry if it seems choppy i took out and rearranged heaps of scenes i don't watch ice skating or ice hockey so i didn't really think about how i would write about it... AHAH anyway i guess this is kinda the last chapter?? i think id be down to do some bonus ones but i am working on something new so we will see, again thank you for reading! ps, did u see that wc?? 12k, yes im very proud

Someone is pulling Azzi to the side, a hand digging into the meat of her upper arm, hard enough to bruise. She’s having a hard time registering anything over the noise and lights. It feels like there’s a hundred people surrounding her, pushing her off to the side, crushing her by the borders.

Then the crowd falls away, and Paige’s in front of her looking harried. The press continues to shout from the side, the noise a little quieter now that they’ve moved, a crowd of people in front of them like a barricade.

“Ah, man,” Ice says, next to the two of them. “Bad luck.”

“I’ve got to go back out and do press,” Paige says, and she looks upset, running a hand jerkily through her hair. “Can you get someone to take Azzi out the back way?”

“It’s only the tabloids,” Azzi says and stays where she is. The situation is mixing badly with the insecurity in her chest, her head. Something selfish and angry has taken up residency in her, curling and twisting unpleasantly. 

“That’s the problem,” Paige says, not even looking at her, her face scanning the crowd, like she’s already searching for a way to get Azzi away. 

Like a picture of them together would be something so dreadful. 

“They’re already here,” Azzi points out, not moving. “Who cares if they get a picture or two?”

Paige frowns. She’s gotten fully ready to act within seconds, Azzi’s coat clutched in her hands. “They’ll come to the wrong conclusions,” she says, and Azzi’s heart sinks. 

The unpleasant feelings in her stomach give a sharp twist, and Azzi feels herself smile and knows it must look off.

“As long as they’re here,” she whispers, leaning in closer to Paige. “Let’s give them a show.” 

Paige’s eyes drop to her lips, like Azzi knew they would; for an instant, their faces are inches apart. She hears someone yell, and the camera’s go off again, too many bright lights to see, photographers moving around the crowd in front of them to get a picture. Paige steps fully away from her, panicked expression twisting into something sharper.

“For fuck’s sake, Azzi,” Paige says, viciously angry, and Azzi steps back too, taken aback by the reaction.

“I didn’t mean to,” she starts, and she isn’t sure what she didn’t mean to do so she lets that sentence trail off and starts again. “I didn’t mean it.” 

This doesn’t seem to make Paige feel much better, judging by the volume of her retort, her eyes angrier than Azzi’s ever seen them, as she shoves Azzi’s jacket into her arms. “You can’t just fuck around with my life when you get bored. Those pictures are going to be everywhere by tomorrow.”

“Don’t yell at me,” Azzi says back, her face burning hot with what might be anger, or might be shame. She’s off-balance, tilting too far one way and then the next. I don’t understand, she wants to yell. She wants, selfish as it seems, for Paige to understand her, without Azzi having to explain. 

Is it that awful to be seen with me? Azzi thinks, her head buzzing miserably.

Ice’s got her by the arm, then and they’re both heading down a dark little hallway, leading out to the parking lot. 

“I practice here too,” Azzi snaps, and yanks her arm away. Her jacket is gripped in her arms, and the jersey suddenly feels tight and humiliating on her skin. “I know the way.”

Ice doesn’t seem to take offense, which makes Azzi feel worse, just nods good-naturedly, her head ducked to avoid stray cameras. “That makes sense.”

Azzi swallows, hard. “I’m sorry,” she says, and that at least, is sincere. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Ice tells her, and then hesitates as they exit out into the employee’s only section of the parking lot. Someone must have told Caroline, because Azzi can see her car heading towards them. “Hey, and- um, Paige just kind of hates cameras more than the rest of us, so, I mean, try not to-”

“Whatever,” Azzi says, cutting her off. She doesn’t really need the reminder. 

It’s freezing outside, thick dark clouds rolling over the sky, threatening snow at any minute. Azzi shivers, and then steps away from Ice as Caroline pulls up, nodding goodbye stiffly. 

To Caroline’s credit, she doesn’t ask any questions as Azzi angrily peels the jersey off the second they get onto the road, leaving her in only the thin sweater she had been wearing underneath. For good measure, she throws it on the floor and stomps on it, her dirty sneakers creating a bizarre black mark over the fabric, before throwing it to the back of the car. 

She considers slipping on the jacket, which at least doesn’t have Paige’s name written on it, but the image of Paige’s white knuckles around it as she tried to usher Azzi out as quickly as possible rises to mind and she chucks it to the back too. 

“So,” Caroline says casually, reaching over to turn the heating up in the car. “After game jitters?”

“Fuck you,” Azzi says bitterly. “Actually, fuck her. Let’s turn around so I can go slash her tires.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Caroline says, like a hint. 

“No,” Azzi says. “I already told you what I wanted to do, but you missed the turn.”

White flurries are starting to drift down outside the window, the wind picking up speed. Some of the flakes drift against the glass, individual specks so that Azzi can get a brief glimpse of the small symmetrical patterns making up each snowflake before they melt away against the window. 

“I’ve been trying so hard to make her like me,” Azzi says suddenly, into the quiet of the car, “and she doesn’t.”

“I’m sure she does,” Caroline says, accepting this too, without question. 

“She was such an asshole, just now,” Azzi seethes. “It’s one picture, will the world end? Will the sky fall?”

“I’m sure you already know this,” Caroline says, “but it was probably a bigger deal to her than it was to you.”

“I piss her off all the time,” Azzi points out. The anger is separating into hurt, a needle digging under the skin of her ribs. “She’s never reacted like that.”

Caroline doesn’t respond to this, as they pull into their neighbourhood. “You want to come over?” She offers. “Kaitlyn’s away for the day.”

Azzi is still considering this when her phone rings in her pocket, making her jump. She keeps meaning to set it to vibrate. She looks at the caller ID and considers hanging up. It would make her feel good, she reasons, give her a little vindictive pleasure. She’s aware of Caroline’s eyes still on her.

“Yes?” She says tersely, answering the phone. 

“Hey,” Paige’s voice sounds a little hoarse on the other end. “I ditched the press conference. I’m on my way home. I thought, maybe we could talk?”

Azzi stares out the window. The temperature’s dropped fast, and the wind has picked up, white snow starting to cover the sidewalks, clinging to the window and the windshield. 

 “Talk about what?” She asks, forcing herself to lean back against the seat. 

“Um,” Paige says. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like- I wanted to apologize.”

“I don’t want an apology, Paige,” Azzi says coldly. “I want to finally lay this humiliating chapter of my life to rest.”

“Azzi,” Paige says. “We won’t get anywhere if you refuse to talk about it.”

“There’s nowhere to go,” Azzi snaps. Her split lip stings as she speaks, newly scabbed over skin starting to split again. “We were never going anywhere to begin with.”

There’s a silence over the phone, only Paige’s breath filling the space, still so fucking steady. “You don’t mean that,” she says finally, voice charged with a bone-deep tiredness.

“This was always temporary,” Azzi says, always clawing her nails into wounds that are already bleeding, both her own and other people’s. “Sorry that you thought otherwise.”

“Fine,” Paige says into the phone, frustration jagged in her voice. “The dating part is fake, yeah, but- Christ, Azzi- I thought we were at least friends.”

Azzi is breathing too fast, too heavy. She wants to cry. She wants to scream some more. She wants to put her head on Paige’s shoulder and just breathe in the familiar smell of her, until they’re in sync again, inhaling and exhaling in the same rhythm. She doesn’t want to be friends.

“Go home, Paige,” she says, and feels the cavity in her chest split open a little further. There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end, so vulnerable it nearly rips her determination into shreds. The next thing she hears is the dial tone. 

The car is horribly silent. Azzi doesn’t look, but the sound of Caroline’s disapproval is nearly audible.

“Don’t start,” Azzi moans. “I just- fuck, do you think I fucked up?”

Caroline is quiet for a moment, long enough for Azzi to turn and see hesitation lining her face. 

“I think you would feel better if you were honest about your feelings,” she says finally. “Even if it doesn’t end up getting you what you want.”

Azzi lets her fingers fall, tracing over the material of her sweatpants. “It was going so well too,” she says, trying not to sound like she’s whining, and not quite succeeding.

“It’s not a real relationship, though,” Caroline says, and Azzi’s head snaps up in irritation.

“Thank you for that,” she says, curt. “Exactly what I needed to hear.”

“What I mean is,” Caroline sighs and then starts over. “It’s not real. It’s easy to have a great relationship if you don’t have as much to lose. You’ve been living in fantasyland.” 

“This is like, the most unhelpful you have ever been,” Azzi tells her. “And that is saying something.”

“All I’m saying is, if you want to have a relationship with her after this whole thing is over-”

“I don’t,” Azzi interrupts, and Caroline closes her eyes like this whole thing is horrible for her, personally.

“Sure. But if you do, you need to figure out whether this is all it’s going to take before you give up.

“Ugh,” Azzi says. She glares out the window again. The snow is starting to blow in heavy gusts outside, and when Caroline parks, she can see that it’s piling up on the staircase leading up to their building. The snowfall is starting to pick up speed, thick, soft heaps of white beginning to form, deep enough to get in your shoes, sink into your socks. 

The cab driver stops before turning into the long, narrow street leading to Paige’s building, and tells Azzi that with the current road conditions, she’ll either have to pay extra or walk the rest of the way. Azzi looks at the storm starting to rage outside, the snow swirling on strong winds, until she can barely see anything other than white through the window. She looks at the still-running meter. She decides to walk. 

About thirty seconds in, she’s regretting it. She didn’t bring a jacket with her, so the snow is flying everywhere, landing in any available gaps in her clothes and melting into ice cold water on contact with skin. Her feet are suffering the worst, the snow piling up inside her shoes, melting and then piling up again until she can’t feel her toes anymore. 

“Paige,” she says when she reaches the building, hitting the buzzer for Paige’s apartment. “Paige, if you don’t let me in, I’ll die. I’ll die, seriously.”

“Azzi?” Paige says over the intercom, static blurring her voice, and she says something that sounds like a question, but the locked door clicks and unlocks, and Azzi misses the words as she shuffles eagerly into the heated building. 

It’s only once she’s in the elevator, a minute away from Paige’s door that she realizes that she has no plan, she’s forgotten her speech, and the snow collected in her hair and clothing has melted, leaving her sopping wet and creating a puddle of dirty water where she’s standing. 

It’s all she can do to keep herself standing when Paige opens the door, her eyes widening as she takes in Azzi, sniffling only a little pathetically in her doorway, soaked to the bone in a thin sweater and sweatpants. 

“I’m sorry,” Azzi says, before Paige has the chance to say anything. “I didn’t mean to say- I just- we are friends and I want to keep being friends and I don’t want to fake break-up, and I’m a really terrible fake-girlfriend, but I want to keep being your terrible fake-girlfriend.”

Paige’s mouth opens. Closes again. She seems, for the first time since Azzi’s met her, to be at a total and complete loss for words. 

“And I’m sorry for pushing it about the picture thing,” Azzi continues nervously. A patch of melting snow is sliding down her back. “I didn’t want to- You hurt my feelings, a little, so I wanted to hurt your feelings and now I feel bad about that-”

“You are the dumbest person alive,” Paige says, and she grabs Azzi’s wrist and yanks her inside. 

She closes the door behind them, almost as an afterthought, her hands fluttering over Azzi’s body, her fingers, her neck, her cheek, bringing a moment of blissful warmth wherever they land. “You’re shaking, Jesus Christ. How far did you walk like this? There’s a blizzard warning out, are you stupid?”

Azzi peels her shoes off and then stands in the entranceway, unsure of where to go or what to say, her hair dripping water onto her already wet socks. 

“Unbelievable,” Paige is saying, already halfway across the living room before she realizes Azzi isn’t following. “Go, sit,” she says, and gestures at the stools across the kitchen counter. 

Azzi obediently takes a seat. 

It isn’t long before Paige returns to stand in front of her with a towel in her hands, and chucks it over Azzi’s wet hair, her hands scrubbing at it like she’s planning on taking Azzi’s whole head off. 

“What is wrong with you?” Paige is asking her, though it seems to be rhetorical, her hands still busy drying Azzi’s hair, none too gently. “No jacket, no scarf, not even any decent shoes. Did you look outside before you decided to come running to apologize? You know how long it takes to get frostbite?-”

“Paige,” Azzi interrupts and Paige stops, both the lecture and the scrubbing, tilting Azzi’s face up so their eyes meet. Azzi’s tongue flattens at the expectant look in her eyes, and it’s with considerable effort that she manages to start again. “Paige, you forgive me, right?”

For the second time in as many minutes, Paige looks absolutely floored by the words out of Azzi’s mouth. Azzi can’t explain it to herself, any more than she can explain it to Paige, but she needs to hear the words, needs to see the shape of them in Paige’s mouth. 

“Yes,” Paige says finally. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“I know,” Azzi says, a shaky smile lifting the edges of her mouth. 

Paige doesn’t move for a second, just watches Azzi, her green eyes contemplative. Then she starts drying Azzi’s hair again, a gentler set to her mouth, if not to her technique. 

“You have qualifiers in a couple days,” she continues, as if nothing had happened, Azzi’s neck aching from the directions it’s being pushed and pulled in. “What would you have done if you’d gotten sick? Would you have sat out? Idiot.”

  “I would have won anyway,” Azzi mumbles, a little guiltily, and then screeches at a particularly rough yank on her head. “But I won’t if I go bald! Paige!” 

“Oops,” Paige says, not sounding very regretful. “Was that one too much?”

“Obviously, you fucking-” Azzi wails as Paige does it again. “Paige, my hair!” 

Paige snickers, and pulls the towel away completely, tossing it into Azzi’s lap. “Drop this off in the laundry. And find some clean clothes and take a warm shower. I’ll get you some hot water with lemon and honey, so you don’t catch a cold. Silly girl.”

Azzi doesn’t answer, busy trying to feel her aching scalp for possible bald patches. 

“Don’t worry,” Paige tells her, pushing her off the stool. “I promise you’re still pretty.”

Azzi whips around, beaming, ignoring Paige’s increasingly forceful attempts to shove her in the direction of the laundry room. “You think I’m pretty, Paige?” 

She says it as half a joke, mostly expecting Paige to roll her eyes and push her away. It catches her by surprise when Paige’s expression softens instead, as she reaches up to push a strand of damp hair behind Azzi’s ear, the pad of her fingertip brushing softly over the shell of Azzi’s ear. 

“You’re very pretty,” she says indulgently, her hand falling back to her side, Azzi staring at her wide-eyed. “Even when you’re at my door looking like a drowned puppy.”

Azzi goes to take a shower without further comment. 

When she pads out, significantly calmer, in barefeet and a soft bathrobe, Paige is squeezing some lemon into a glass, the hot water creating condensation along the sides of the glass, fogging it up. It tastes honey-sweet going down Azzi’s throat, warming her up where the heat of the shower didn’t reach. 

She feels warmer still when Paige presses her up against the kitchen counter, rough hands slipping inside the bathrobe, spreading across her back, as she licks into Azzi’s mouth like she can taste the remnants of honey and lemon lingering on Azzi’s tongue.

“Your lip is bleeding,” she murmurs, pulling away from Azzi, kissing the corner of her mouth in apology. “Sorry.”

Azzi licks over her lower lip, tastes metal in her mouth and grimaces. “Oops.”

Paige is already grabbing a tissue, and running it under the tap. She squeezes water out into the drain and presses the damp tissue to Azzi’s mouth, wiping away where the blood has smeared. Azzi winces at the contact, and Paige holds her chin between a finger and a thumb, keeping her in place. “Stay still, baby.”

Baby, Azzi thinks delightedly, lets the sound echo inside her brain. She’s still thinking about the word choice when she realizes Paige’s stepped away. 

“Does it hurt?”

Azzi blinks. “Huh?” 

Paige stares at her. Azzi stares back.

“Your lip?” Paige prompts, after it becomes clear that Azzi won’t be answering, a small smile playing at her own mouth. “It’s bleeding.”

“Oh,” Azzi says. She’s lost it. “Yes. The lip. It was bleeding. Still bleeding?”

Paige just looks at her, her eyes blinking slowly, like Azzi is the most fascinating person in the world. If this was anyone else, Azzi thinks, she would probably be embarrassed. But Paige just smiles at her, and Azzi can only muster up the smallest hint of sheepishness at being caught out so directly.

“Yes,” she amends, and wraps her arms around Paige’s neck. “It hurts lots. Kiss it better.”

Paige groans, her hands landing on Azzi’s shoulders, resisting her attempts to pull them back together. “You are insufferable. Did you know that?”

“Yes,” Azzi says again, honestly, and she nudges her cold nose into the space between Paige’s shoulder and collarbone, drinks in the smell of Paige’s perfume (which she thinks is actually a cologne) “But here you are. Suffering.”

Paige’s eyes meet Azzi’s and hold eye contact, her face unreadable. Then she sighs. “You have no idea.”

Azzi doesn’t know what to make of this insult that doesn’t sound like an insult. She doesn’t respond, she presses cold feet against Paige’s shin in retaliation, grinning at her put-out expression.

“I can’t believe your toes didn’t fall off,” she says, and tugs Azzi over to her fireplace using the belt on her borrowed robe.

Azzi settles cross-legged in front of the blazing heat, lets it sweep over her back, feeling thrillingly, deliriously happy, sparks running up her still damp skin, making her heart beat faster in her chest. 

“What do you look so happy about?” Paige asks, when Azzi grabs her and tugs her closer. She goes willingly, her head settling in Azzi’s lap, wincing as Azzi’s cold hands come around to pull at her cheeks. 

“I’ve accepted my fate,” Azzi tells her.

“Your fate as what, exactly?” Paige says, the words mumbled as Azzi tugs on her face.

Azzi doesn’t answer, just leans forward and plants a kiss on her forehead, right above the bridge of her nose. 

Has Paige’s New Relationship Gone Cold? Hockey Player ‘Iced Out’ by Figure Skating Fling!

Azzi’s Out On Her Ass! ‘Hit the Slopes!’ Says Paige! “On Thin Ice” Says Exclusive Source.

Azzi, Cold on the Ice, Colder in Bed?! Insider Sources Speak Out About Skating Couple’s Frigid Romance!

“Kaitlyn,” Azzi says, interrupting Kaitlyn’s dramatic reading. “You could read these in your head.”

“Good literature deserves to be shared,” Kaitlyn tells her, and holds up a new one. “A source close to the couple reveals the relationship has been on the rocks for months. Did you know that?”

“Where are they getting all these sources from?” Azzi wonders out loud. 

“Beats me,” Kaitlyn says mournfully. “I’ve been calling offices all day to tell them you’ve got mad cow disease. Nobody even cares.”

Azzi pauses, looking up from the suitcase she’s packing at Kaitlyn, who’s draped over her bed. “You know humans can’t get mad cow disease, right?”

Kaitlyn, who is ostensibly meant to be helping Azzi pack, stops flipping through tabloids to look at Azzi, horrified. “Are you serious? I’ve wasted so many phone calls, man.”

“It’s literally called cow disease,” Azzi says, and Kaitlyn is still complaining when the door swings open, creaky hinges announcing Caroline’s arrival. 

“There was a whole section about you guys on my way home. Like a whole section of a newsstand with just your faces on it,” she calls, already halfway into Azzi’s apartment. Azzi does not remember giving her a key.

“Did you bring any back?” Kaitlyn asks, already bounding up in excitement.

“Breaking!” Caroline reads, walking into the bedroom. She hasn’t changed out of the branded shirt she wears to work, a cartoonish smiling skull peering down at Azzi from under her own face, pressed against Paige’s on a magazine cover, bold lettering over their bodies.  “Azzi, Withholding Her ‘Icicle’ From New Girlfriend?! ‘Not Until Marriage’ New Sources Report.”

“Who is writing these?” Azzi asks in amazement. 

“And who is doing their fact-checking?” Kaitlyn says, peering down at the page over Caroline’s shoulder. “They should be fired.”

“Are you guys breaking up?” Caroline asks, and both her and Kaitlyn are staring at Azzi, expressions nauseatingly similar. “I need to know where to place my bets.”

“How’s the casual sex going for you?” Kaitlyn adds, looking irritatingly knowing. “Still no feelings?”

Azzi looks back down at her suitcase. It’s too full. If she adds anything else to it, she won’t be able to get it closed, but she hasn’t even packed any clothes yet. “No,” she says to the peanut gallery, an answer to both questions. She adds her folded clothes and takes the performance makeup out. She can probably put that in the carry-on.

 “I’m starting a six-year plan to make her fall in love with me,” she says casually. “Can one of you come help me close this?”

“I love being friends with you,” Kaitlyn says, neither of them moving. “Every decision you make is worse than the last. Like a slow-motion car crash. Thrilling.”

“Why is it taking her six years to fall in love with you?” Caroline asks.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Azzi says. “At the end of the six years we get married. The suitcase?”

“Thrilling,” Kaitlyn repeats, and comes over to plant her full body weight on top of the suitcase so that Azzi can zip it closed. 

Azzi is staggeringly drunk. Mind-bendingly drunk. Everything is swirling into pieces around her and then swirling back together, the noise pounding in her eardrums reverberating through her entire body. It’s loud, sweaty, hot, crowded. The smell of alcohol is stinging her nose, a too-expensive bottle of champagne still staining her clothes, sticky where it touches her skin. 

Every now and then, the realization comes back to her and then she’s smiling again, her cheeks aching with the force of it, her throat raw from screaming. 

“I made it!” She yells to Caroline. The two of them are so close together but her voice is carried off in the noise regardless, and she can see Caroline blink as she tries to process. 

Then Caroline is grinning back at her, just as wide. “We made it!” She yells back, and Azzi throws her head back to laugh, giddy. 

Someone pulls her away and Azzi goes willingly, out of her mind with joy and nearly deaf from the music.

The quiet of the evening, when she stumbles outside, is an ice-cold shock. The sudden stillness surrounding her, the indiscernible noise of screaming teenagers in the background. It had been a struggle to extricate herself, a tugging push and pull until she made it out into the night air. She’s pressing the call button before she can talk herself out of it. 

“Azzi?” She hears Paige say, only a dark blurry shape on the small screen of her phone. There’s rustling movement, the click of a lamp, and then Paige’s face is peering blearily at her, illuminated by soft yellow light. “Are you wearing bunny ears?”

“I think I got them from a fetish store!” Azzi tells her, and it’s only when Paige flinches away from the phone screen that she realizes she had been yelling. She lowers her voice abashedly. “They wouldn’t let you in without a costume,” she whispers, like she’s letting Paige in on a secret. “But I didn’t have one.”

Paige falls back and Azzi can hear her laugh tiredly, voice still gravelly with sleep. She must have set the phone down, because all Azzi can see now is the ceiling of the hotel Paige must be staying at. Her team had left for a series of away games, both of them now far from home. 

“Paige,” she says to the ceiling. “I can’t see your face anymore.” Her words are starting to blur together, but she can’t concentrate enough to pull them back apart.

“Sorry, sorry,” Paige mutters, and there’s another rustle before her face returns, now with headphones. “Are you out celebrating?”

The word celebrating reminds Azzi why she called to begin with and she beams back at the camera, exhilarated once again. “I made it! I’m going to the Olympics!”

Paige is laughing again, though Azzi isn’t sure why. “I know,” she says. “You texted me.”

“Oh,” Azzi says. Then, “What did I say?”

“Um,” Paige says, and then her video is paused. “Hang on. You said ‘i made it’ and then ‘Olympics baby’ and then ‘can alcohol absorb through your skin?’ and then there were a bunch of letters.”

“Oh,” Azzi says again. “What did you say?”

Paige’s face returns to the camera once more, her smile fonder than usual, the planes of her face carved out soft in the mellow light. “I knew you’d make it.”

Azzi thinks that if it’s possible to be crushed by sheer affection, she’s feeling it now, a building pressure in her chest that pulls her accelerating heartbeat back to ground level.

“Thank you.” Now that she’s calmer, she notices for the first time how Paige’s eyes are fluttering closed, how her voice is sleep-rough, and she feels a pang of guilt. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Nah,” Paige says, clearly lying. “I couldn't sleep anyway.”

“Liar.” There’s that soft, tired laugh again, and the phone shifts to a view of the ceiling again, like Paige has set it down beside her. Azzi can hear the sound of her breathing, each breath slipping slowly into a steady rhythm.

“S’Okay,” Paige mumbles. “I like the sound of your voice.” 

This is enough to stun Azzi back into silence. Her brain feels slippery from how much she’s had to drink, the hot pink lighting of the club she had been in still dancing across her feet, a glimmering haze over her field of vision. She’s so aware, all of a sudden, of how cold the night air is, biting into exposed skin, how tightly the headband of the bunny ears is pressing into her scalp, of the hair falling over her forehead-  of how much love is piling up inside her, scrubbing her raw and threatening to drown her under its weight. 

If Paige liked the sound of her voice, Azzi would read her a novel, would read her a dictionary, would write her a new love letter every morning and recite it to her every night. 

As it is, she whispers into the phone, “Goodnight, Paige,” and lets herself wait five full seconds before hanging it back up.  

That night Azzi crashes on the sofa of a hotel suite she could have never afforded by herself, legs too wobbly to make it to a bed. She doesn’t sleep, she just lies there, the bright glow of her phone across her face the only light in the dark room, and she drafts drunken texts and deletes them, writing out confessions she’ll never send. 

Are you still awake? She writes to Paige, and deletes it.

Good luck tomorrow.

Recently, you’ve been in all of my dreams. Do you think that means something? 

I wish you had been here today. 

In a hazy space of her brain, it starts to register to Azzi that this is possibly a little bit embarrassing. She doesn’t feel embarrassed- she feels giddy in a way she hasn’t for years, caught up in the middle-school thrill of having a crush, something that reminds her of drafts of love letters on pink stationary, of leaving gifts in lockers and roses on desks. It’s the indulgent happiness of allowing herself to get caught up in the push and pull before a relationship, both of them on edge, neither willing to slip first. 

It’s enough, she tells herself. For now, it’s enough. They’ll have time. 

The sun is just beginning to set when Azzi walks back to her apartment days later, a plastic bag of groceries crinkling in one hand, the other holding Paige’s hand. The heat is starting to return after a long winter, and there’s sweat collecting between their hands, but neither one moves to disentangle their fingers. 

“You don’t have a fucking clue,” Paige is saying heatedly, and Azzi scoffs but doesn’t interrupt. “You have no idea how much I’ve suffered because of this. It’s the worst possible-”

“Not the worst,” Azzi interjects. “I’ll take a lot but I won’t let you lie to me right now-” 

“It is the worst, it’s the laziest way out, it never makes sense, it creates so many plot holes-”

“I think it’s fun and creative,” Azzi says, and passes the bag of groceries to Paige, who takes them unquestioningly, as Azzi fumbles one-handed with the lock. “And the plot holes wouldn’t exist if you didn’t think about them.”

“That’s the target audience,” Paige says grimly, as Azzi pulls her into her apartment via their connected hands. “People who don’t think. Like you.”

“Time travel is an old, respected, trope,” Azzi says. “Just because you don’t understand it-”

“Boo!” Paige says, setting the bag of groceries onto the counter. She starts unloading them without Azzi asking her to, taking out the eggs to place them into the fridge, not even pausing in the flow of conversation. “There’s nothing to understand, because it sucks.”

“Not enough things getting blown up for you?” Azzi asks snidely, and pulls out a cardboard pink box, wrapped with matching pink ribbon before Paige can respond. “Are you ready for your present?”

Paige comes to stand beside her, reaching out a hand to pull at the strings of ribbon and pouting when Azzi slaps it away. “I don’t know why you had to make me stand outside the bakery. It’s not like I can’t guess it’s a cake.”

“Hush,” Azzi says. “As long as it’s not open, it could be anything.”

They had only had Valentine’s Day cakes available at the bakery, so when Paige opens the box, it’s to a mess of pink and red frosting over a small heart-shaped cake. In cursive script over the top, white lettering reads ‘C U @ O.V.’

“They were charging per letter,” Azzi says. “O.V.  stands for-”

“Olympic Village,” Paige says, grinning. “I get it. I love it.” 

Azzi beams at her. Paige had cleared the team selections for the national team yesterday, when she had still been away for a game. She had made it back last night, the pair of them reuniting for a private celebration that left bruises that ached pleasantly along Azzi’s hips, her chest, her thighs. 

“Here,” Paige says, in a suspiciously innocuous tone. “Taste.”

Azzi narrows her eyes. “What-”

Paige runs her finger through the icing as Azzi starts talking and then sticks her finger into Azzi’s open mouth. 

Azzi clamps her teeth down around the finger immediately, glaring at Paige. She’s hoping the look in her eyes communicates something like a threat, like I could bite through your finger like a carrot right now and not holy shit, I want to eat you out. It’s always so hard to figure out the line between the two with Paige.

Paige tries to pull her finger away, teasingly, and her eyes widen as Azzi bites down a little harder. 

“Hang on,” she says, her wrist falling a little limp. “I’m trying to figure out if this is turning me on or not.”

Giving in is against Azzi’s principles but this is beginning to seem torturous, so she lets her mouth close, keeping her teeth back to let her lips close gently over the first knuckle. Paige makes a strangled noise and it feels like victory. 

“Yeah. Definitely turned on,” she says decisively. 

Azzi can’t speak, just swirls her tongue around the pad of her finger, tastes sugar and strawberries, lets it dissolve in her mouth, relishes in the way Paige’s lips tug up in exasperated acceptance.

She’s thinking of abandoning the cake entirely and starting up those celebrations over again, or maybe just dropping to her knees in the kitchen, when the doorbell rings. 

“Ugh,” Azzi says, pulling away reluctantly, turning toward the door. 

She’s stopped by the firm grasp of Paige’s hand around her jaw, bringing Azzi’s face back to her own. Azzi thinks about complaining about the hand Paige’s using to do it, feeling her own spit touching her cheek, sticky and off-putting and gripping hard enough to bruise.

But Paige’s lips are already on her, tongue slipping into Azzi’s mouth with a proprietary confidence that makes Azzi’s hands clench tight around the edge of the countertop, keeping her on her feet. 

The doorbell rings again, and Paige pulls away with a sigh and a wet parting of mouths, Azzi’s eyes fluttering back open in slight shock. 

Paige is watching her lips, looking all too pleased with herself. “Yum,” she says, letting go of Azzi’s jaw with a pat on the cheek and a wink. “Strawberry.”

The doorbell rings for a third time, aggressive in how long it lasts, like the person outside is leaning on it, impatient.

Paige’s eyebrow twitches slightly at the noise but she steps fully away from Azzi, looking entirely regretful at her own actions. “Tell them to go away” her eyes flicking down to Azzi’s lips meaningfully. 

“Stop saying words,” Azzi says, flustered beyond measure, and tries not to rush to the door in order to do exactly as told.

She opens the door, flushed and still half-laughing, the remnants of a smile on her face fading away as she sees Jayden outside her apartment, still in that ugly fucking coat, the human personification of a cockblock.

“Yes?” Azzi asks, leaning against the door. She doesn’t want Jayden taking a step inside. She doesn’t want Jayden here at all, encroaching on a moment Azzi was enjoying, his presence a reminder of a truth Azzi would rather forget. She very selfishly hopes Paige doesn’t see him. She wants Paige to forget about Jayden all together, forget that two of them had ever been together for a reason that wasn’t so they could watch old science fiction and argue about director’s cuts. 

“Just thought I’d drop by,” Jayden says. “You’re not going to let me in?”

“I’m a little busy,” Azzi says coolly. “You should really text first.” 

“Busy?” He’s smiling a condescending little smile that makes Azzi’s eyebrow twitch. “You aren’t at practice?”

“I’m hanging out with my girlfriend.” If she places more emphasis than is strictly necessary on the last word- well. 

If Jayden is surprised to hear this, he covers for it well, only a slight blotchy red flush to his cheeks giving away a reaction. “I thought- I heard that you’d broken up?”

“Been reading a lot of tabloids recently?” Azzi drawls, letting her head fall to rest on her door frame. 

“You haven’t brought her around for dinner,” Jayden counters, still mostly placid. “I didn’t think it was that serious.”

“We’ve both been busy,” Azzi says, eyes narrowed. “It’s the season for it.”

Jayden smiles a little wider and it feels like an accusation. “I’m sure my dad would love to meet her.”

They will never find your body, Azzi says with her eyes. 

With her mouth she says, “We’ll see you guys Wednesday.”

Once the articles had come out, it had become impossible to ignore Geno’s hints about meeting her new girlfriend. Azzi hadn’t expected to be able to avoid it for long but she had gotten away with it for longer than she expected.

She didn’t know how she felt about the dinner now that it had arrived. Somewhere inside her, something was screaming that this was too serious, too much, too fast. That the unsteady foundation of their little show couldn’t hold up under any more serious inspection. Another part was screaming that Azzi hadn’t been acting for a long time. 

A month and a half had passed easily under the guise of their fake relationship. A month and a half, so much time and almost none at all. 

At no point during those forty-five days had she prepared herself for seeing Paige waiting in her apartment for her to finish getting ready, complaining on Azzi’s terrible couch, wearing a white sweater, the thick knitted pattern against the pale of her skin. 

She’s used to seeing Paige in sharp angles and hard muscles. Like this she looks almost soft. Huggable.

“I bet you’re just a natural-born parent pleaser, aren’t you?” Azzi says, eyeing the gentle cling of the fabric to her shoulders. 

“What are you ever talking about?” Paige responds. “Come on, I brought some flowers and they’re going to wilt if we don’t hurry.”

“Flowers,” Azzi says, to herself, as Paige takes her hand and drags her along. “Of course she brought flowers.” 

“Listen,” Azzi says, once the two of them are in the elevator heading down to the main floor. “We need to bring our best game tonight.”

Paige does not seem to be listening, her eyebrows a little furrowed as she responds to a text on her phone. Azzi can feel her blood pressure spike. 

“Paige,” she says, and Paige’s head lifts immediately, the look she sends Azzi endearingly nervous. “As far as I’m concerned, this is a competition,” Azzi continues, very seriously. “And if I lose to Jayden of all people, I’m killing you and then myself.”

Paige slides her phone into her back pocket as the elevator doors open, and takes Azzi’s hand again instead, pulling them both towards where her car is parked. Her thumb is tracing small circles over the back of Azzi’s palm, a motion that she assumes is meant to be calming. Insultingly, it works, the tense slope of Azzi’s shoulders relaxing into a less rigid line. 

“It’s fine,” Paige says. “I’m sure we’ll nail it.”

“That’s a lot of baseless confidence,” Azzi says. “Especially for someone who can’t lie.”

Paige only sends her that familiar exasperated look as she starts the car, like she can see right through Azzi’s bullshit but likes her anyway. Azzi smiles back, a little helpless in the face of that familiar affection.

By the time they arrive at Geno's house, the effect has worn off, and Azzi is a stretched out ball of nerves all over again, her leg bouncing against the floor of the car so fast it’s nearly vibrating. 

“Seriously,” Azzi says again, grabbing onto Paige’s sleeve as she moves to open the car door, the two of them still parked in Geno’s driveway. “If they ask any serious questions, I’ll take it. You just- tell the truth unless absolutely necessary.”

“I’m not that bad at lying,” Paige complains, but Azzi isn’t amused, her hand still tightly gripping Paige’s sleeve.

“Hey,” Paige says, a little softer, and extricates her sleeve from Azzi’s grip, just to replace it with her own hand. She lifts Azzi’s hand up, and presses her lips to the knobby bone at Azzi’s wrist, looking back up at Azzi with a smile. “Relax. It’ll be fine.”

Azzi tries to maintain a scowl, but her hand untenses in Paige’s grip, against her will and she gives in.

“Fine,” she says, ungracious but accepting. “But if this all goes wrong, the murder-suicide is still in the plans.”

“Like you could kill me,” Paige snorts, and Azzi makes a sharp dissatisfied noise as they both finally exit the car, a large wrapped bouquet of orchids in Paige’s arms.

“I so could.”

“Maybe if I let you,” Paige says.

“Paige, please you would let me do anything to you.”

“Oh my god Azzi! We are just about to go inside, and you insist I’m the vulgar one” Paige complains as she rests her head on the wheel before they get interrupted.

“I thought I heard yelling,” the old man says, the sharp clean lines of her white haircut unforgiving against the bright light shining from behind her, the doorway lit up against the darkness of the night sky. “Azzi, is the impression you want to make on your guest?”

“Sorry,” Paige says instantly as Azzi scowls, her head bowed.

Geno’s expression changes so fast it’s almost comical, a beaming smile overtaking the thin, wrinkled face as she turns to Paige.

“No, no,” she says dismissively. “Don’t apologize. I know an Azzi antic when I see one. It’s good to meet you. Please, come inside.”

“She started it,” Azzi mutters, only a little sullen as the two of them enter the large house, the foyer illuminated in white by bright lights set into the high ceiling. Her breath leaves her with an ‘oof’ as Paige elbows her gut in silent response, smirking at the betrayed look Azzi sends her.

“Nonsense,” says Geno, who has apparently decided to miss that entire interaction. “Here, let me take your jackets.”

“It’s alright,” Paige says quickly, and smiles that white smile again and Azzi is suddenly struck by the image of a newspaper ad, ‘Perfect Girlfriend��� scrawled in large expansive lettering over the top. $9.99 a month. 

“I brought flowers,” Paige says, doing nothing to dispel the image, and holds out the bouquet. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Oh,” Geno says, and takes the offered flowers. “These are lovely, thank you.”

Azzi is expecting Geno to return to the kitchen to put away the flowers, leaving her some time with Paige in the hall before the trial begins, but the man just lingers, watching Paige hang up first her jacket, and then turn to Azzi for her. 

“You’re so polite,” Geno croons in a voice that Azzi considers unseemly for a man of his age. “Not at all like the last girl Azzi brought home.”

Both Azzi and Paige freeze, Azzi in the middle of handing her jacket off to Paige. 

“I was fifteen,” Azzi splutters, blood rushing to her face. She feels hotter now than she ever did with the jacket on.

Paige places the hanger with Azzi’s jacket into the closet, her voice seemingly casual, but Azzi can hear the glimmer of laughter underneath her words. “Oh, really? What happened?”

“What didn’t?” Geno sighs dramatically, leading them into the kitchen where Jayden is seated at the stools lining the kitchen island, slicing up cucumbers for the salad. “Never said thank you or please, stared at the wall the entire night. She wouldn’t have brought flowers. Actually, I think she stole my vase.”

“She did not,” Azzi says, and then pauses. “She probably didn't.” She amends.

“Do you see?” Geno says, and Paige nods. Azzi takes the opportunity the instant the older man turns her back to elbow Paige, returning the favour from earlier with a bright smile on her face as she drives her elbow into Paige’s stomach. 

Paige wheezes and manages to disguise it as a cough when Geno turns back around. The wide table is already set, and the four of them start to settle around it, Jayden bringing over the salad, surprisingly quiet. 

They manage to make it to the end of dessert without incident.

“It’s alright,” Geno is saying graciously, now empty bowls sitting in front of them. “Now is the time to make mistakes. Around your age, I got engaged to this lovely young woman. Turned out, she was already married.”

  Paige gasps and Azzi thinks about banging her head on the table. 

“Not this story again,” Jayden says glumly. “Please.”

“She was married,” Geno says, and pauses for dramatic effect. “To an Earl. In England.”

Jayden and Azzi groan in unison. Paige, damn her, seems genuinely interested, her mouth dropping.

“No,” she says, hushed. “And you had no idea?”

“None,” Geno says, puffed up with the pleasure of a willing listener. Both Jayden and Azzi exchange long-suffering looks over the dinner table, and for a moment it feels normal, for the two of them to be complaining light-heartedly as the old man relays a story both have already heard too many times. Then Jayden’s eyes cut to the side, where Azzi’s hand is resting next to Paige’s on the dinner table, their pinkies interlocked. His expression hardens, leaving Azzi blinking. 

“So, how did you two meet?” He asks loudly, cutting off a question Paige had been asking. Geno frowns at the interruption, but also turns to the two of them, looking between expectantly. 

“We skate at the same rink,” Azzi says, taking a careful sip of water. “We ran into each other all the time. Practice times overlapped sometimes.”

“Ah, go on,” Geno says, looking unfortunately engrossed. “Tell us the details.”

Azzi forces a little laugh, her hand on the glass tightening. She’s talking to Geno but she can feel Jayden’s eyes on her, stinging wherever they reach.

“It’s nothing interesting,” she says. “We got along, I asked her out, we went to dinner.” 

“Ah,” Geno says, lying back in his chair a little. “How unromantic.”

“It’s still pretty new,” Azzi says. She thinks she might be starting to sweat.

As if on cue, Paige’s hand wraps around her fully, squeezing a little before letting go. 

“Azzi is answering all the questions,” Jayden says, a sharp smile directed at the two of them. “We could at least let the paige talk a little.”

Azzi thinks about propelling herself over the table, and slamming her fist into that smug little face. It’s a comforting image, if nothing else.

“Hm?” Geno says, looking between them. “How did you meet Azzi, Paige? What did you think?”

“I don’t-” Azzi starts, her voice a little high with nerves, but Paige just squeezes her wrist again, gently. 

“I thought she was beautiful,” Paige says, before Azzi can start to panic. She smiles at Azzi and adds, “And very talented, of course. Maybe a little sharp around the edges, but it was part of the appeal. And I knew I had to talk to her that day, or I’d regret it forever.”

Azzi’s face feels burning hot. She thinks it’s probably a good thing Paige isn’t holding her hand anymore, because her palms feel clammy.

“What?” She asks and her voice sounds shaky in her ears. 

“That’s romantic,” Geno says, nodding. She says something else and Azzi can hear Jayden’s voice, but it’s all faded a little to background noise, as she stares full-on at Paige’s profile, turned away from to address a comment Geno made, and Azzi feels like her heart is going burst entirely out of her chest.

“I’m going to go take a breath,” she says abruptly, standing up. “Outside. Be right back.”

She can feel everyone staring at her, but at this point, she’s pretty sure her face can’t get any more red than it already is. 

She steps out into the night, the glow of the porch light dancing across the wooden slats at her feet. It’s happening again, she thinks, where just as soon as she’s starting to feel like she’s got everything under control, scheduled neatly into her calendar, Paige comes along with that honest little smile and her dimples flashing and Azzi starts to feel like she’s swirling apart again. 

Footsteps sound behind her, and Azzi turns, mostly expecting to see Paige or maybe Geno, come out to fetch her again.

“Hey,” Jayden says, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He looks uncomfortable, standing just outside the door, shorter than Azzi remembers him being. 

He doesn’t say anything at all, just raises an eyebrow, leaning back to brace his elbows on the porch fence behind him. 

“You guys make a good couple,” Jayden says finally. 

Something flutters in Azzi’s chest. “What?”

“You look right together,” she says, and motions with hi hands. “You fit.”

Azzi can’t think of anything to say. Oh God, it’s over, she thinks, with a burst of relief. And then again, with an overwhelming panic. It’s over. 

“I-” Jayden rubs at the back of his neck, and Azzi just stares. “I’ve been a little overbearing, I guess.”

“Overbearing?” Azzi repeats scathingly. “You mean the blackmailing me into hanging out with you?”

Jayden seems like he’s trying to put on a good show of repentance. “I just, I didn’t want to lose, so I kept pushing.” 

Azzi tilts her head back and stares at the sky. A month and a half of effort, gone in two minutes. What, her mind whispers to her, do we do now? A bright star twinkles down at her unhelpfully.

“Whatever,” she mumbles out loud and pushes her way past Jayden back into the house. 

Azzi returns to the dining room and starts clearing the table without being asked. She stands in the kitchen and doesn’t wash a single plate, just stares at the delicate china Geno had brought out specially for meeting Azzi’s girlfriend and thinks about how unfair and awful life is. Bitterness is creeping up her throat, long tendrils threatening to choke her out entirely.

Paige comes to meet her in the kitchen after a few minutes, her arms wrapping around Azzi, enfolding her entirely as her chin comes to rest over Azzi’s shoulder. 

“Hi,” she says.

It’s always been in Azzi’s nature to poke at barely formed scabs, ripping her cuts open before they’ve had a chance to heal. She doesn’t pull away from Paige’s arms. 

“Hi,” Azzi whispers, turning her head to plant a small, clumsy kiss to her forehead. 

Paige pulls away, and stands beside Azzi instead, her back leaning against the edge of the counter. “You good?”

Azzi grins, and swallows down the acrid taste at the back of her tongue. “Are you? I thought you were a bad liar, what was all of that back there?”

Paige flushes slightly, red creeping up her neck. Her eyes leave Azzi’s to look at the plate in her hands instead. “All that hanging out with you has made me a worse person, probably.”

Azzi sets the plate down and pretends to swoon dramatically into Paige’s chest, who rolls her eyes, but grabs her arms anyway, steadying her.

“Oh no,” she warbles piteously, fluttering her eyelashes. “What will your teammates think of me, now that I’ve tarnished their precious golden girl?”

Paige reaches up and pinches Azzi’s nose. “Gold doesn’t tarnish,” she says, ignoring Azzi’s nasally protests.

Azzi pulls away and pouts, rubbing at her nose. “I’m just a special influence, Paige.”

“You’re a special something, for sure,” Paige says dryly.

Azzi makes a face at her, and turns back to the dirty dishes, still waiting for her.

“Are you alright?” Paige’s voice asks again from behind her. “I saw Jayden follow you out. I didn’t want to step in. What did he say?”

“Oh, you know,” Azzi says feebly. She gives up, and turns on the warm water, starts scrubbing the dishes. “I’ll tell you later,” she says to Paige. 

She wonders, not for the first time, if Paige’s got a superpower that lets her know how far Azzi can be pushed at any particular moment, because she doesn’t say anything else. She just nudges Azzi a little to the side with one heavy hip, until both of them are standing side by side, washing dishes in the silent kitchen. 

A clock in Azzi’s head is keeping time in the car ride home, tick-tick-ticking away the moments before they’re back and Azzi has to confess. It’s over, she thinks again. It was always going to be over, she reminds herself, but it doesn’t help. Even if she keeps this quiet, the two months will pass.

Azzi’s dreams have always been so huge but recently they’ve started to seem so small. Not the far away pressure of a medal around her neck, only the image of a kitchen in the early afternoon, warm hands around her waist, gentle lips on her. A breakfast set out for two. She isn’t sure what she’ll do if that slips away again.

“Paige,” she says when the car finally stops in front of her apartment. “Guess what?”

There’s a terrible sort of lingering stillness in the car, like Paige can sense that something is wrong.

“Jayden said we were a cute couple,” Azzi says, as casually as she can manage. She’s watching Paige’s face carefully, searching for a reaction, but she can’t tell if her expression really changes or if Azzi’s just seeing what she wants to see. “I think she’s going to back off. So we’re good now.” 

“Oh.” Paige says. And that’s that. 

She expects, despite herself, for Paige to follow her out of the car, maybe just to talk, maybe to say a goodbye. 

She hasn’t even made it into the building before she hears the car start to move, driving off. 

Sure enough, when she turns around, the street is empty.

Because the world is conspiring against her, the elevator is out of service.

 Azzi climbs up five flights of stairs slowly, thinking about what she’s going to do now. The stairwell is abandoned this late at night, everybody else in the building already asleep. 

She had known this was going to happen. She had planned for this happening. Their relationship had come with a deadline and she had known it was eventually going to run out. She had made a plan, and the plan was fucked now because Paige had said not a single thing when Azzi had told her they could end their fake relationship, hadn’t even stuck around to watch her leave.

“If she doesn’t even want to be friends,” she says to a bleary-eyed Kaitlyn, standing on her doormat. “What am I supposed to do then?” 

Kaitlyn isn’t wearing any pants, and her eyes are halfway to closing before Azzi’s even finished her sentence.

“Hang on,” she says, and turns her head to the side to yawn wide, jaw cracking. “Okay, come on.” Ushering Azzi back into her own apartment.

Inside her apartment, Kaitlyn hears her out, splayed out on Azzi’s floor, nodding sleepily as Azzi explains.

“This problem is stupid,” Kaitlyn says, like she always does. Azzi is lying on her couch, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling again. It really is such an ugly ceiling. 

“Tomorrow,” Kaitlyn is saying. “Just talk to her.”

“But-” Azzi starts and Kaitlyn cuts her off. 

“If she really doesn’t want to be friends at all, I’ll call all the magazines I can think of and tell them she’s really bad in bed or something.”

Azzi pauses and contemplates this. “Promise?” She asks eventually, and Kaitlyn groans where her face is half-mashed into the floor. 

“We can do it together,” she promises. 

“Ugh,” Azzi says, and rolls over on her couch and gives in to sleep. If she’s going to cry, she tells herself, might as well do it tomorrow.

When she wakes up, it’s not to the shrill piercing noise of her alarm, but to the equally shrill and piercing sound of her phone ringing. She’s still on her couch, and the apartment is still dark, the sun not yet risen. It could only have been a few hours since she got home. The ringing cuts off, and then starts up again.

“Azzi,” Kaitlyn says warningly, her eyes still closed, her face still buried in Azzi’s carpet. “Either you pick up that fucking phone, or I’m going to shove it so far up your ass, you’ll feel it ringing in your throat.”

Azzi leans off the couch to pick up the phone, rubbing the sleep crust out of her eyes.

“Hello?” she says into the phone, not bothering to check the caller ID, more irritable than normal.

“Azzi?” Paige’s voice says over the phone, and it’s so unexpected that Azzi almost misses that she’d said her first name.

“Paige?” She asks, wide-awake now.

“Can you let me in?” Paige asks. “To the apartment building, I need to-”

“Yeah,” Azzi says, stumbling over to where the buzzer sits. She presses. “What are you- Paige?” The line’s gone dead. 

“Oh my God,” Azzi says, staring at the phone in her hands. Her phone log is open in front of her, confirming that it hadn’t been some kind of longing-induced dream. “Oh my God,” she repeats.

“What’s happening?” Kaitlyn asks from behind her. She hasn’t moved at all, as far as Azzi can tell. If she wasn’t speaking, Azzi would worry that she was dead.

“You need to get out,” Azzi says, still staring at her phone in disbelief. She looks over and Kaitlyn is still unmoving. “You have to get out,” she says again, running over to pull Kaitlyn up and out of her carpet.

“You are-” Kaitlyn scowls as Azzi tries to push her out the door with both hands at her back. “You are ungrateful, that’s what.”

“I’ll buy you dinner,” Azzi says desperately. “Anything, seriously, but you have to get out.”

“Hm,” Kaitlyn says, ignoring Azzi’s attempts to throw her bodily at the door. “Alright. If you insist.”

Just before the door closes behind Kaitlyn, Azzi hears her whistle. “Hey Paige,” she hears Kaitlyn call cheerfully, just outside her door and before Azzi’s had the time to process what that means, someone is knocking at her door. 

When she opens it to see Paige, she starts to wish that she had spent her time brushing her hair instead of kicking Kaitlyn out. Or maybe her teeth. 

Her only consolation is that Paige looks equally haggard, hair even messier than usual, her eyes looking wild as she takes Azzi in, her chest heaving with exertion.

“One more date,” Paige says. She’s breathing hard. “Rule number four. You still- We still have one more.”

Azzi’s eyes couldn’t open any wider if they tried. A painful hope is springing up in her chest, pushing against her ribcage until it aches. “Did you run all the way up here?” She manages to ask, her head still in a daze.

“Your- fuck-” Paige is still panting, bracing her hand against the doorframe, but she laughs, breathless and a little nervous. “Your elevator was broken.”

Azzi can’t tell if she wants to laugh with her or cry. “I live on the fifth floor,” she says, instead of doing either.

“I just needed to tell you,” Paige says, straightening up fully and Azzi thinks that she looks dazed too. “I had to tell you-”

It’s all Azzi can take, all she needs to hear, her heart hammering in her chest. “Wait, stop!”

Paige is staring at her, and it’s an awful expression on her face, one that Azzi’s never wanted to see, like something is falling apart in front of her. 

Azzi doesn’t bother trying to explain any further. Azzi grabs Paige’s face and brings their lips together, so hard it hurts. 

Paige makes a sound against Azzi’s lips as their teeth knock together, her pointy canines digging into Azzi’s lower lip.

“Okay,” she says, pulling back. She’s laughing again, the soft puff of air hitting Azzi’s skin. “Okay.”

She cups Azzi’s face in one hand, hardened calluses meeting soft skin and gently, so gently, tugs her back in, smiling against Azzi’s mouth. 

This kiss is easier, in that it tastes less like blood. Paige’s lips are sweet, soft and plump and red, and she’s hesitant in a way Azzi’s never known her to be before, as she licks over her bottom lip, pulls Azzi even closer with a hand on her waist. Until they’re pressed up tight together, one of Azzi’s hands bruising her shoulder, the other tight on the back of her neck. Until Azzi’s tongue is in her mouth, tasting coffee and mint, feeling Paige’s body shudder against her, her hand opening and then closing tight around Azzi’s waist.

When they pull away, Azzi keeps one hand on her sleeve.

“I like you,” she says defensively, and Paige looks like the breath in her lungs has left her all at once. “I like your face. I like your arms. I like it when you wake up before me and you get ready without turning the lights on so you don’t wake me up. I like it when you carry my bags without me asking even though I’m a professional athlete and carrying heavy things is like, 45% of my life. I like the way you put your hand on my thigh when you’re driving. I like that you have piles of tickets in your car and I like that you call your mom every Sunday-”

“I get it.” Paige says, looking mortified. 

“Do you?” Azzi says. “Because, just so you know, you are completely ruining my six year plan.” 

“Okay,” Paige says, her voice muffled from where she’s covered her face with her hands. “Maybe I don’t get it.” 

“My six year plan,” Azzi wails. “You aren’t supposed to confess until the second year.”

Paige’s hands lower as she considers this. It’s a testament to how well Paige knows her, maybe, that she manages to piece together what’s happening, regardless of how objectively batshit it is.

“Do you want me to wait a year?” She asks, grinning again. Her ears are bright red.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Azzi says, “You are ruining my life. Just- hang on. I need to show you something.”

Azzi’s got one hand on Paige’s wrist, leading her into her apartment, and Paige comes easily, like she has nowhere else to be. Azzi swallows down the lump in her throat, and takes them both to her bedroom, opening up drawers until she finds the notebook she’s looking for, passing it over to Paige who takes it, confused.

Those furrowed lines between her eyebrows only deepen as she opens the book, scanning down a long page covered in Azzi’s handwriting.

“Every time you did something that made me think I loved you, I wrote it down,” Azzi says, her eyes burning holes in her stupid worn out carpet. “So I wouldn’t say it out loud.”

Silence settles over the two of them like a heavy blanket, stifling and hot. Azzi lets it sit, doesn’t dare to move, holds her breath, until she can’t take it anymore and looks up. 

“Are you crying? ” She asks, her eyes widening. 

“I’m going to kill you,” Paige snaps, not even bothering to wipe away the tears resting in the corners of her eyes, poised to fall. She’s still looking through the second page. “Why would you- why wouldn’t you say any of this before?”

“I don’t know!” Azzi says, slightly alarmed by the tears that are now fully rolling down Paige’s cheekbones. “Please don’t cry. It makes me feel icky.”

“You stupid- God, I don’t even have a word for you right now,” Paige tells her. “There are- you’ve written pages in here.”

“I only started writing in it about a few weeks ago,” Azzi says helpfully. “Otherwise I would have more.”

“At no point,” Paige asks incredulously, “did it occur to you that maybe it would be easier if you just said these things to me?”

Azzi frowns. “I didn’t know if you- you know. Are you?”

“Obviously I’m in love with you,” Paige says, and Azzi feels like all the strings holding her up have been cut at once. “Who would agree to this whole fake-dating thing if they weren’t?”

Azzi thinks that that is almost insulting, but she doesn’t have it in her to feel offended, just feels a bone-melting relief, sagging against her bedroom wall. “You said you couldn’t think of a better solution.”

“There is always a better solution,” Paige tells her, and she’s laughing as she says it, finally wiping her wet eyes, which makes Azzi laugh with her. 

“Sorry,” Azzi says, and because she’s pretty sure she’s allowed to, she presses her hands to Paige’s cheeks, and kisses the divot right between her eyebrows. “Sorry,” she repeats. 

Paige puts her hands up to Azzi’s face, and they must look ridiculous, both of them holding the other’s face between their palms, grinning like children.

“Azzi,” Paige says, very seriously. “Do you want to be my-”

“Agh!” Azzi cries, and tackles Paige onto her bed. Paige groans as she falls heavily onto Azzi’s covers, her hands flying up to Azzi’s wrists, Azzi’s hands on her chest, Azzi’s knees digging into the mattress on either side of her thighs. 

“You already ruined my six-year plan,” Azzi says, pressing down on Paige’s chest. She pretends that she is not effectively groping Paige’s tits right now, but she’s not sure if she’s fooling anyone. “Just let me do the asking.”

 Paige’s hands move from Azzi’s wrists to her shoulders, and she pulls Azzi down towards her, rolling them both over, a hand cradling the back of Azzi’s head. She looks down at Azzi from where she’s straddling her thighs and grins at the flustered expression on Azzi’s face.

“You asked for the fake relationship,” she reminds Azzi. “It’s my turn.”

“It’s not a competition,” Azzi lies. “And fake isn’t equal to real. That was more like a business pitch.” 

Paige only smiles at her, sharp and knowing, and that wasn’t what Azzi had wanted at all because she can feel her slick stir at the sight. 

“It was all business to you?” Paige asks, bending over Azzi, a mocking tilt to her lips, to the arch of her eyebrow. “Really?”

Azzi opens her mouth to respond, but Paige’s already got her mouth on Azzi’s skin, her tongue darting out at the sensitive spot under Azzi’s ear until she’s got Azzi arching up underneath her with a strangled cry, grinding against Paige’s thigh to try to get some friction. Paige’s hands are pushing her shirt up, fingers rough against her abdomen, a sharp contrast to the soft kisses she’s leaving down Azzi’s neck.

Azzi has the sudden, vivid thought that if she comes just from this, she’ll never forgive herself. 

Then Paige’s mouth is at the creases of her thighs, teeth digging in just a little into where the flesh is softest, and Azzi stops thinking all together. 

Once the sweat and cum are drying on their stomachs, Paige looks up at her, and Azzi thinks that she’s lost the battle and the war. 

She moves in for a kiss, but Azzi pushes her face away with one hand, the other draped over her eyes, too jittery for her own good. 

“I’m not going to lick my own cum out of your mouth.”

She can feel Paige twitch against Azzi’s thigh at that and Azzi lifts her arm to squint at her, levels her with the best unimpressed glare that she can manage with her body still feeling so jelly-like and her heart still beating so fast. “Really?”

Paige just laughs, and pulls Azzi’s hands away and to the side, so she can look her straight in the face, can see her own expression reflected back in Azzi’s eyes- a little nervous, but grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. She places a gentle kiss on the soft skin of Azzi’s cheek.

“Go on, then,” Azzi says, the glumness in her voice offset by the brightness of her eyes as she looks up at Paige. “I know when I’m beaten.”

“Azzi,” Paige starts. She stops, and tries again. “Azzi.”

The Azzi in question groans at the sound of her name, and Paige keeps her hands around her wrists.

“Azzi, I love you,” she says, and Azzi huffs, the warm air hitting Paige’s chin. “I’ve loved you for a while now, I think.”

She lets go of Azzi’s wrists, moves her hands to cradle Azzi’s face instead. Azzi knows how she must be feeling, because she’s feeling it too. Her throat feels scratchy, the culmination of so much longing suddenly real and staring her dead in the eyes, her eyelashes casting a shadow over her cheeks. It’s almost overwhelming. 

“Be my real girlfriend, okay?” Paige finishes lamely, sweeping Azzi’s hair out of her face, the tips of her ears burning hot.

“That was terrible,” Azzi says, but her voice sounds suspiciously wet. “Go brush your teeth so we can kiss properly.”

Azzi makes them both breakfast, and burns the toast when Paige distracts her halfway through. She doesn’t mind, the blackened bits can be scraped off, and the eggs still taste good. 

She’s expecting the doorbell, when it comes. Honestly, she’s impressed they managed to hold off so long. 

“How’s it going?” Kaitlyn says in Azzi’s doorway, attempting to sound casual, while leaning around Azzi’s body to get a glimpse inside. 

“Kind of early for a visit,” Azzi says, but Caroline is already pressing her way inside, curiosity blatantly etched on her features. 

“It’s fine,” Kaitlyn says, also stepping inside. Azzi sighs and moves to the side. 

“So, why don’t you want to real-date Azzi, huh?” Caroline is asking, clearly trying to loom intimidatingly over Paige. The effect is damaged by the flowery embroidered shirt she’s wearing, short at the ruffled cuffs, cropped to her midriff.

“Stop-” Azzi starts to say, trying to pull Paige away from the two of them. 

“She has good bone structure,” Kaitlyn interrupts, her hands reaching up from behind Azzi to grab her face, smushing it between her palms. “Have you seen her bone structure?”

“You guysh are th’ worsht,” Azzi says, her face still clutched in Kaitlyn’s iron grip. She pulls, until Kaitlyn releases her, and rubs her now sore cheeks, scowling. “We already- we fixed it. Jesus.”

“We could try a shovel talk,” Kaitlyn mutters to Caroline, both of them looking slightly disappointed, and Azzi scowls harder. 

“Get out already!”

“I have actual shovels,” Caroline tells Paige as a parting statement.

“Okay?” Paige says, bewildered. She turns to Azzi once the two of them have left. “Why was she telling me about her shovels?” 

“It was probably meant to be ominous,” Azzi sighs. “Caroline is terrible at ominous.” 

“It came across a little more like she was bragging about her shovels,” Paige says.

Azzi watches Paige- her girlfriend, her mind supplies, thrilled- get her stuff together, searching for keys in the pockets of pants that had been discarded. They’ve still got practice, Azzi thinks, a little loopy. After all that, and they’ve still got practice. Azzi will show up to the rink in the evening, and see a crowd of hockey players taking up space on the rink- always too slow to clean up- and one of them will be Paige. It seems too much to process. The sun has risen outside, painting Azzi’s apartment in golden light, her ugly ceiling and her cheap carpet, and the girl in the center of it. Azzi wonders if she should tell her her shirt is inside out. 

Paige looks up to see her staring, her eyes even more blue under this lighting, and that animated flash when she smiles- bright and bold, like she's just seen something good.  

[bad268]

Hiiiiii

Could you maybe do smth with kimi antonelli. I had this idea where reader and him are playing mario kart and maybe she finally beats him and teases him about it. And to shut her up he just starts kissing her (if you’re comfortable writing that)

Ps: i looooove your stuff

Shut Up & Drive (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Clearly (You have reawoken my Mario Kart side-)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1171

Summary: The Reader challenges Kimi to Mario Kart and wont shut up.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

“I am aware that you race cars for a living, but I could totally kick your ass in Mario Kart.”

Those were fighting words you said while flying home one night after a long weekend, where Kimi actually scored well given the circumstances. Many of the drivers were affected by the heat, and there were a few bad accidents that took out a bunch of drivers. 

In the end, only 12 drivers saw the checkered flag. Kimi still brought home points, but you could tell he was feeling the effects of driving in the hot, dirty air for so long. 

That’s why, instead of letting him sleep on the long flight home, you forced him to play Mario Kart with you. You had chugged an energy drink too late in the day. You were wired and ready to make it everyone’s problem.

“Who are you picking?” You asked as you loaded up the screen, slightly bouncing in your seat. “It says a lot about who you are.”

“I don’t know. Is Mario good?” Kimi muttered sleepily as he gave you the side eye.

“Yeah,” You shrugged, “If you like being boring.”

“Well, who do you play then?” Kimi chuckled lightly before leaning his head back against the seat and dropping the controller in his lap.

“Shy guy, always have been, always will be,” You replied immediately as you selected your favorite colour Shy Guy, and watched him stay on the character screen without picking one. “Do you want opinions or are you just trying to waste time?”

“Sure, give me your analysis,” Kimi sighed as he rolled his head onto his shoulder to look at you.

“Well, I don’t really care about character specs, but my friends really like Link, Princess Peach and Dry Bones,” You answered, showing him the characters on the screen.

“What is this one?” Kimi questioned as he landed on your sworn enemy.

“Baby Bowser,” You replied with a grimace, “Well, technically it’s Bowser Jr., but still. Nothing against the character in this game, but I hate him in Super Smash.”

“Did he personally wrong you?” Kimi chuckled lightly at your reaction.

“Yes,” You replied seriously. 

“I highly doubt that.”

“Just don’t question me,” You waved him off by bumping your shoulder against his. “Worst case, you can always choose your Mii character.”

“I’ll just go with…” He paused, using his controller to go around the characters before landing on one, “Luigi.”

“Hot, okay,” You joked as you confirmed your own character and moved to select your karts. “I like motorcycles, but that’s just me. Pick whatever you want.”

“Hey, this one looks like my car!” Kimi chuckled, selecting it immediately as you moved into the course selections. “What is the easiest one?”

“Baby Park,” You answered, going through the courses to find the specific one. You found it easily after playing it so many times and clicked to load it up.

“So, is there a reason you selected Big Blue?”

“Because I never lose Big Blue.”

“I see how it is,” Kimi said under his breath as your two characters lined up for the race. “Are you scared I’ll win?” “Nope,” You said, popping the ‘p’. “I’ve never lost Big Blue.”

“Well, get ready to.”

“Yeah, right,” You scoffed as you got a boost off the line. Before you even reached the first row of boxes, you went from 12th place to the top five while Kimi was still down in 9th. “Are you even trying? Oh my gosh, you suck.”

“It’s the first corner,” Kimi defended with a smile, “We have-how many laps is this? Three or five?”

“Why would it be five laps?” You scoffed as you threw a couple of red shells at the characters ahead of you and got up to second place. “It’s always three laps. And you better start getting better because there is not a lot of race left.”

“We’re not even done with the first lap,” Kimi said under his breath as he got into the top five.

“You’re not,” You cheered mockingly as you crossed the line for the first lap. “Y’know, this type of dominance could really bore fans.”

“We’re not even doing this with an audience,” Kimi muttered, stealing a glance at you as you focused on the game. “Should I be concerned?”

“You’re just jealous of my skills,” You teased, “You can admit it.”

“That’s not it,” Kimi trailed off as you moved into the third and final lap. Kimi had moved up to second at this point and was harbouring a red shell, but he didn’t have the heart to throw it at you when he saw that all you got were coins.

“What did I say?” You exclaimed accidentally, slapping a hand over your mouth when you remembered you were on a commercial flight. You cleared your throat before apologizing and dropping to a whisper as you shook Kimi’s shoulder, “What did I say? I told you! I don’t lose Big Blue! Never have, never will!”

“Yeah, I saw that,” Kimi chuckled as his character crossed the line in second.

“I don’t care if you are a professional driver or not! I am just too good on this track!” You continued boasting as the leaderboard appeared on the screen. “You should really take a few pointers from me. Like, don’t get rid of all of your items as soon as you get them, or maybe don’t fall off the side sometimes.”

“Okay, I get it,” Kimi sighed, but still looked at you with a soft smile on his face as he listened to you rant. 

“Or maybe hit the gas and use the exit boosts! I can show you how to drive a manual!” You continued enthusiastically. “It’s crazy how you never used a speed boost once. I am like a master at it, so I can give you a few pointers.”

“Oh, can you?” Kimi teased lightly, but you missed it completely.

“Or maybe you just need more practice!” You gasped a little louder than you had previously. “We have a super long flight back home, I know you don’t have anything to look over or do work or school-wise, and we can just play the whole time! I can show you shortcuts and teach you the ins and outs of all of the circuits, and -”

The next thing you knew, you couldn’t talk. Your eyes widened as your breath had been taken away by Kimi’s lips on yours. It took you by surprise, but it was never an unwelcome surprise to be kissing your boyfriend. It only took you a second to react, closing your eyes and melting against him. 

You dropped your controller on the tray table with your switch, opting to reach for Kimi’s hand instead when he pulled back with a cheeky smile.

“Are you going to shit up and drive now or do we need to do that again?” He asked lowly as he leaned to whisper in your ear.

“I wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2025. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[vexxandra]

for those scared of love (timeless pick-a-card)

recently had someone come into my life, this pac is for me <///333 01-11-24

pile 1 > pile 2 pile 3 > pile 4

pile 1

i feel this hyper independance about you. perhaps you have a serious appearance or a stern personality, but i get the sense that you do not like relying on others. this may be where your fear comes from. love requires co-operation, but how can you entrust your heart in the hands of another? you are so smart, strong and confident, able to pull anyone you so desire, so why are you so scared?

i feel like love is the one problem you cannot face. it's like the sun, so beautiful yet blinding- you can't help but look away. that is okay. it is okay to be scared. love is scary, i understand; what if you fall? oh but my darling, what if you fly? opening your heart will do you more good than bad, and i can tell you this with the utmost confidence.

pile two

the heartbroken pile, i see you. i feel you. i feel your fear. i feel your jaded cynicism, the soft beating of your glass heart, pieced together back and back again. i feel the tears on your cheek, faded, but flowing like the carvings of bark on a tree. you most likely either have someone in mind right now, or are recently recovering from something. regardless, you are overthinking so very much. and how could you not? you feel as if the world is against you- that you in particular never seem to get the greener grass or the brighter stars.

this situation you are living is scaring you, but is it really all that scary? are the monsters beings of your mind, or are they real? you are thinking too much i feel. take a breather, tap into your heart and slip away from the moment for a while. everything will turn out wonderfully, you will be so happy in the end. (ps: i recommend listening to some ambient noises like pink or brown to help quiet the worry thoughts).

pile three

im confused pile three, are you? there were a lot of contradictions in your cards, they were so hard to read. do you know what you want? asking with love of course. perhaps you are an indecisive person, and i feel like you don't like staying in the same place or situation for too long. you have this beautiful energy, but it all goes out the window when it comes to love. by which i mean you tend to self-sabotage yourself in the endless pursuit of answers.

i feel like this reading in particular is less about love and more about your mindset. i feel like you must work on this part of you that keeps you trapped in your brain, and you will be so much happier in all fields. i feel like you must work on this before getting into a serious relationship with a person, because it'll cause unnessecary worry for you, and i do not want you to suffer.

pile four

have you felt called to pile one? i see some similarities there, so feel free to check it out if you so desire. i feel as if your fear stems from insecurity. im getting the vibe that you dont know if people are being genuine with you or not. a specific example that will most certainly not apply to everyone is being rejected constantly during your youth, but after glowing up, everyone is flocking towards you. i feel as if you try to convince yourself you dont need love, that it is better if you stay single. there are truly so many similiarities between this pile and pile one. all of these piles have corresponding pairs which i think is cool

you are guarded with your heart, unwilling to let the wrong person in. good news is, i think you are more than emotionally mature enough to have a secure partner if you so desired it, and i see that someone intelligent and able to match your standards will be coming in soon. take care pile four, and remember that you are beautiful from the inside out, always and forever.

[faiszt]

✦ ⠀.⠀° ⠀BOT DUMP :⠀ by⠀﹫⠀faiszt ⠀/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⠀♡

NOTES⠀. ᰰ⠀ hey, babies! just had to stop by to say a huge thanks for the 2K followers on c.ai, love you all 🤍 ˊᗜˋ ~

PS.⠀remember, bots are not real. take care of yourself.⠀🩶

▸⠀CHALLENGERS⠀*⠀˖⠀🎾

𝅭⠀crybaby, crybaby⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀pathetic and needy, like a lost puppy since you broke up with him. he's lost count of how many times he's heard that he should "get over you", but he couldn't—he needed you, and he needed to know if you still loved him.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀the last time⠀.⠀patrick zweig⠀૮⠀having and not having something with patrick sounded almost the same, since one night you were everything to him and the next day he didn't even answer your calls. you swore that this would be the last time, until he knocked on your dorm door again.⠀♡ gender neutral!⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

▸⠀FORMULA 1⠀*⠀˖⠀🏁

𝅭⠀non-spanish, yeah?⠀.⠀carlos sainz⠀૮⠀a trainee journalist and the opportunity to interview a driver for the first time, it was a chance that couldn't be missed, right? yes, well, of course, you just had to make sure you didn't embarrass yourself and he had to make sure he didn't flirt with you.⠀♡ female!user⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

𝅭⠀monaco’s it couple!⠀.⠀charles leclerc⠀૮⠀rumors and more rumors, people were always talking about your relationship on the internet and since you stopped going to see the races, they just assumed you had broken up. until the monaco grand prix brought more than just a victory for charles.⠀♡ female!user⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

▸⠀ONE TREE HILL⠀*⠀˖⠀🏫

𝅭⠀who are we to fight the alchemy?⠀.⠀nathan scott⠀૮⠀ god knows how many times nathan tried to push you away from him, not 'cause he didn't like you, but 'cause he liked you way too much—and if he hurt you, he would never be able to forgive himself. but, after all, who are we to fight the alchemy?⠀♡ female!user⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

▸⠀OUTER BANKS⠀*⠀˖⠀🗝️

𝅭⠀the famous vagabond love⠀.⠀rafe cameron⠀૮⠀he was a walking problem that everyone knew about and you were the opposite, the breath of fresh air his numb lungs needed—the only person he genuinely cared about. even if your conservative parents tried to keep you away from him, he would never accept being away from you for a single day, he was yours.⠀♡ female!user⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

𝅭⠀late-night stalker⠀.⠀rafe cameron⠀૮⠀what place could be safer than your own home in a friday night? no people, no unnecessary noise, just peace... or rather, don't be so sure about "no people". after all, you just walked into your room and rafe is right there... just waiting for you, his angel.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡ gender neutral!

▸⠀RESIDENT EVIL⠀*⠀˖⠀💀

𝅭⠀best friends⠀.⠀leon kennedy⠀૮⠀you, a rookie cop, are leon's only friend and by god, he doesn't even know the difference between a friend and a best friend, but you are genuinely the highlight of his tiring life as a federal agent.⠀slightly insp by aaron warner.⠀♡ gender neutral!

[hanginginthevoid]

Idk If you're taking request BUT I really need

Bucky Barnes platonic love him

What if reader is like bucks adopted daughter or sum she got powers lowkey I feel like she could be really into bob (what if Bucky and reader and drifting apart and it seriously makes reader sad cause she really loves her dad)

pairing: father!Bucky x daughter!Reader

summary: Bucky took you under his wing pre-blip, but after he got dusted and you didn’t, he just couldn’t accept the fact that you’ve grown. His refusal to adapt eventually pushed you away. 

a/n: I’ve never written for bucky before so please dont scorch me :’) I am very pleased w this tho. Also!! I didn’t include reader being into bob, i hope thats okay anon!! (ps. I jumped for joy seeing a request) ty sosososo much for the love on my bob post

warnings: probably ooc bucky, mention of a gun, very possible disappointment ahead

word count: 2k

--

James Buchanan Barnes, better known as Bucky, had many, many regrets. Most people would say it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t in control of himself, so he should logically be able to move on. He didn’t agree though. He took so many lives, most times with a weapon, but sometimes with his own hands. 

Still, those very same hands were the ones to cradle you as Bucky took you back to Wakanda on one of his missions as the White Wolf. The Wakandan’s sent Bucky to assess if someone had somehow taken Wakandan technology without permission. See your powers happened to be the organic version of King T’challa’s new suit, allowing you to absorb and redisperse any damage dealt to you. 

After you awakened, you explained in as little detail as allowed, about how you were being experimented on after a kid hit you and he flew back into a wall. You swore over and over again that you didn’t mean it, and had no idea what was happening to you, fearful that they would start to experiment on you too.

That was the moment that Bucky decided to take you in. You’ve got so much trauma built up already and you’re barely able to drive. He knows the feeling, and even though the Wakandan’s helped him fix a lot of his problems, he still has enough to deal with on his own that he’s sure he can aid you in your recovery.

He trained you, teaching you hand to hand combat, how to dodge properly, and even how to block a hit so that it has no impact on you at all. How to use a gun was a brief lesson, Bucky didn’t want you using one but he more so hated the thought of you being at a disadvantage if you didn’t know what to do with it.

When Bucky wasn’t with you, it was Shuri and or T’Challa if they were available, helping you to hone in on your powers and the best way to manipulate them to benefit yourself. Shuri made you a suit that would protect you from injury since your powers didn’t stop bullets or shrapnel from piercing your skin.

Your world collapsed when the closest thing you’ve had to a father figure was snapped away. You weren’t there to see it happen, Bucky forbid you from going on the actual battlefield so you guarded Shuri as she worked on removing the Mind Stone from Vision. Even after it seemed like everything went to shit, you still held faith. The Avengers hadn’t seen anyone they couldn’t handle yet, and today would not be the day.

But then people started turning to dust. And maybe today was the day because when you got down to the scene of the final fight Bucky was nowhere to be found. You find Steve Rogers, after all the stories you’ve heard about him you know he’ll know where Bucky is. 

Steve grabs you into a hug before breaking the news, “He’s gone kid.” And the tears start welling in your eyes. But you don’t believe him.

“What do you mean he's ‘gone’?” You’re pushing at him, trying to get out of his grip, but he’s a super soldier and you’re just a girl. 

“Thanos. He - he got him. With the snap.” He’s cradling your head, trying to be as comforting as he can even though he too, needs comfort.

Time passes slowly after that.

–

When you notice people starting to form from nothing all around you, you know where you have to go. Your dad, that you’ve spent 1 thousand, 8 hundred, and 26 days mourning, has finally come back to you.

The first thing he notices is how you’ve grown. Five years is a long time for the average person, you’re a little taller, grew more muscle, and even hold yourself differently. After the initial shock wears off though, he still sees you as the teenager that he pulled out of the rubble.

Funnily enough, that’s why you don’t talk to your dad anymore.

He couldn’t get past the fact that you willingly are putting yourself in danger. Sure he allowed it when he, Sam, and Joaquin were taking down the flag smashers. But there were three sets of eyes to make sure nothing happened to you! Now you wanted to go off on your own? Where did you even get your intel from? How could he be sure it wasn’t just somebody setting you up?

You distanced yourself when you realized Bucky would never trust you.You get it, really you do. He taught you so many things and helped shape the person that you wanted to be. But it’s not your fault that he disappeared and you didn’t. Maybe it would have been better that way. If you both got blipped then maybe, just maybe, he could really understand that you aren’t a useless child anymore. 

You’ve kept contact with Sam and Joaquin funny enough. When they need someone to snoop where Captain America can’t be seen, they ask you. In turn, when you need intel on something just beyond your reach, you ask them. It's a mutual relationship, a solid, stable one that you’re appreciative of.

They used to try to get you to speak with your dad. He nagged them, which is uncharacteristic for him, the man barely responds to his texts. He made it a point to ask about you in every message, it didn’t matter if he was reaching out just to touch base, asking about a mission, or telling Sam that he was going over to Sarahs for dinner. And while Sam and Joaquin didn’t want to get involved, it was hard not to feel for the guy.

You, however, shut down at any mention of Bucky. At first you’d only go off the map for a couple of days. Then it was a week. Then it was two whole months. After that they decided that it was better not to bring it up. Being able to secretively update Bucky about your whereabouts was a much better option than finding you in an abandoned building someday because of some shitty intel. 

You loved Bucky, in the way that only a child could love a parent. If you hadn’t been prepared from the rejection of your biological parents, you probably would have folded by now. But dealing with them helped you to focus on putting yourself first. If he can’t accept, and love, you for who you are now, then so be it. 

–

It’s a shock when you see your father on the news with the headline reading How will New York welcome the New Avengers? The last you heard was that Sam was putting together a team, and he would be the one taking over the Avengers title. 

Naturally, you call Joaquin. He could give you all the details, without any anger that Sam may or may not have. 

He told you that Sam was unbelievably disappointed in Bucky specifically. How could he, of all people, join a government mandated team? Him, Bucky and Steve, among many others, did not fight the Sokovia Accords, just for Bucky to flip sides. 

Supposedly your dad had called Sam to talk it over, but Sam just retaliated by informing him that he would be copyrighting the Avengers name. Who would have guessed Sam could be that petty. But more importantly, why would your dad rather join a team of ragtag, mismatched, hooligans, instead of Sam’s Avengers? 

Maybe it's time to face the music and get some answers yourself. After booking a flight, and hotel, you pack a small bag and head out. 

After getting to the hotel and freshening up a little bit, you shoot off a text to your dad.

y/n: stopping by

You don’t even make it to the elevator before your phone dings.

Dad: where?

Dad: the tower?

Still a bit salty, you don’t grace him with a response. Maybe you should have though. In your haste, you forgot about the hooligans who also resided in the tower.

“Uh - Is Bucky here?”

“And who are you supposed to be?” Ghost, or Ava you guess since she's not on a mission, is eying you warily.

Instead of backing down you walk more into the common space. Taking it upon yourself to lightly scour the area by moving your head from the right side of the room to the left, almost akin to a lifeguard. “He should be waiting for me.”

Then you spot him, hands around a mug, immersed in his phone. So you start walking in that direction, shouts from behind you about how you ‘can’t be in here,’ and you ‘don’t know how much trouble you’re gonna be in,’. It doesn’t deter you from resting a hand on your fathers non-vibranium arm, and giving it a light squeeze. 

His head whips around, the look of shock adorning his face is new to you. His voice almost seems different when he speaks too, “You - you’re actually here.”

Nodding, you respond, “I am.”

“Can I give you a hug? Would that be alright?”

Bucky sounds nervous. Fearful that you’d reject him. Even if you’re confused by his actions, he’s still your dad. It’s almost non-negotiable that you’d fall into him. He’s cradling your head while embracing you as tight as possible without cutting your airflow or breaking bone, much like Steve did when he originally broke the news that Bucky was gone. The motion makes you tear up again. 

“I’m sorry kid. I know you’re grown now, and there's nothing I can do to change that. It was just hard, y’know?” Bucky’s making you cry for real now, it's a slow stream and instead of stopping and giving you time to collect yourself he keeps going, “We spent everyday together in Wakanda, and I got to see you grow into a different person in real time. After Thanos, it felt like I got put into the wrong universe. There you were, grown, a whole different person. And sure, your fundamentals were the same, but you didn’t need me to protect you anymore and I didn’t know what to do with that.” 

“It wasn’t like that. I still needed, still need, you. I just need you to understand that I won’t sit on the sidelines anymore.” It's unsteady, but you want to make your point, you quiet as you near the end, “If I hadn’t maybe I wouldn’t have lost you.”

Bucky pulls you away then, both to look into your eyes and wipe your tears. “It wasn’t your fault. Don’t ever, even for a second, think that it was.” You’ve got a pout and you nod, trying to accept his statement. Really brand it into your brain, so that you’ll never forget it. 

The problem with Sam can wait. It’s important, and pressing, but for the first time in years you’ve got your dad. You think you’ll extend your hotel stay, really take some time to get to re-know your dad. You’ve both missed a lot, hell he became a congressman since the last time you’ve talked. 

On the other side of the embrace, Bucky couldn’t care less about the team being privy to this situation. He’s a private man, but he’s been waiting years for this moment and he would be damned to the depths of hell before he gave it up. He would explain everything to you, how he was working against Valentina, trying to get her impeached, then he rounded these guys up to testify, but they kept talking about some ‘Bob’ guy, and the ‘Bob’ guy was sweet but he housed a huge problem, and then Valentina made sure to save face by placing them as the New Avengers. 

He would wait though. Anything that happened in your life would be leagues more important than his. Even if it’s just a new coffee order, or that you found out you actually don’t hate string cheese. Suddenly the world was a whole lot brighter, all his stresses were lighter too, just because he finally had his baby back.

Likes/Comments/Reblogs make me giggle and kick my feet fr

[seellove]

Could You Stay a Little Longer // drug dealer!sukuna x reader

Masterlist

Chapter 5 // (8.5k words) // Explicit - 18+

\|/ AO3 - Chapter 5 | << Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 >>

You're pursuing a master degree across the country, but are currently back in your hometown housesitting for your parents. They've told you all about their undesirable new neighbor, but when you start to get to know said neighbor, you realize he isn't all that bad. Your controlling boyfriend won't let up on you and you grapple with enjoying the company of this drug dealing neighbor boy, Sukuna. Nothing about this is going the way you planned, but is it so bad to let yourself be treated well for a change?

The cultural setting for this is technically economically depressed, rural USA where good paying jobs are hard to come by and there's not many opportunities in small towns, but it could really be anywhere that meets this criteria!

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are mid 20s, mentions of recreational drug use and drug dealing, mentions of abusive/controlling/manipulative relationship (not Sukuna), could possibly be considered cheating depending on your interpretation (not Sukuna), angst, smut, fluff, time skip, prison time, happy ending trust!

2 Years 8 Months

Tuna Kuna,

I feel like I’m finally starting to get settled in my new place. It’s interesting exploring downtown after being gone all these years. A lot of the old rundown warehouses are high end condos now and a lot more restaurants and bars have opened up.

I’m loving my place so far. It’s just a block from the riverfront park and trails. Great view of the mountains too. My parents thought I was crazy at first but you know how it is when someone has lived in the same area forever, they truly believe it’s armed and dangerous haha. 

There are a lot more young people around here too it seems. Since the university has grown in size, so has the young professional population. If I still live here when you get out, you’ll have to come sit on the balcony with me. It’s fun watching the trains go by, dogs running around in the park, and people watching to your hearts content. Maybe you can even grill us up some food, I’ve been cooking for myself for almost three years at this point, it’s your turn to come carry the load :P.

It’s about time Gojo started seeing his daughter! I understand not wanting her to come when she was a tiny baby, but the girl deserves to know and meet her dad. Just because he’s in jail doesn’t make him a horrible person. 

This might be random, but I met your cousin and his wife. She works at the university hospital with me and long story short, found out her husband is Choso! Small world…well more like small town problems ha! 

Speaking of, I’m loving the job so far. Being a physician's assistant in a rural area is definitely hard work, but it’s also rewarding considering there is such a shortage here. 

My parents also say hello. I ended up telling them about us. Well, not everything…but about how we got to know each other while I was here house sitting and now we write to each other and talk on the phone every now and then. They were surprisingly cool about it all. 

What have I eaten good this month? I’ve eaten my weight in barbecue since coming back home, drank my weight in sweet tea, and the cantaloupes are in season so I seem to perpetually have one cut up in the fridge. I feel bad talking about food to you but if it gives you good daydreams and thoughts, I’ll do it for you. 

Well, I guess that’s it for now, I’ll look forward to hearing from you soon!

Your dearest girl of the tomatoes,

PS how long are we going to keep this up? Been going on almost three years of this nickname, I promise I like other fruits and vegetables ha ha. 

Sukuna snickers, shaking his head as he reads the last line. He knows you don’t even like tomatoes that much, but it’s a cute nickname he doesn’t think he’ll ever let go anytime soon. 

“Giggling over there huh?” Gojo drawls, laying on his side on his metal frame of a bed, biting his cuticles, white hair pushed out of his face.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sukuna hisses, reading through the letter for a second time. He tries to read them multiple times with the hope that each time he’ll get something different out of it. 

He loves reading about food. Prison food isn’t entirely awful, but it’s definitely not as good as shit on the outside. 

“So what’s new in your girl's life?” Gojo asks, getting up and stretching before approaching Sukuna in his bed.

“She moved back to our hometown. Got a job at the university hospital,” Sukuna doesn’t take his eyes off of the paper in his hand, eyes tracing the handwriting he’s become familiar with. It’s comforting in a way, noticing the unique way you draw certain letters, your little quirks evident in such a simple way. 

The juxtaposition of his heart is always surprising to him. While it feels so full continuing to hear from you, it also feels incredibly empty knowing he’s stuck in here unable to be with you during the various seasons of life. He knows he’ll be left behind when it comes to the outside world, but he hopes you’ll be patient with him when he gets out someday and show him the ropes of the modern world.

“It’s time cellmate,” Gojo stares down at him, mouth curling into a small smirk. 

Sukuna flicks his eyes up at him, his own lips returning a grin. 

“Alright, get ready to lose again,” he sits up, following Gojo to the steel table and chairs against the wall. 

Both men shed their shirts revealing their muscular forms. Since being in jail, Sukuna had put on more weight in the form of pure muscle. There wasn’t much else to do in here. 

Taking their places on opposite sides, Gojo claspes Sukuna’s hand in his as they get into an arm wrestling position. 

“Elbows stay on the table,” Gojo mutters, blue eyes piercing Sukuna’s crimson gaze as they size each other up.

“One.”

“Two”

“Three!”

They both start flexing, testing the other’s strength, trying to find a weak point. Going back and forth, their fingers dig into each other’s hands, elbows pressing down into the cold metal. 

“Looking nervous over there,” Sukuna chuckles, tongue sticking out in concentration. 

“I’d never be nervous over your dumb ass,” Gojo scoffs, doubling down to counter Sukuna’s advances. 

Eventually Sukuna slams Gojo’s hand down, claiming victory.  

“Weak ass, I’m still the strongest,” Sukuna jumps up, punching the air. His pink hair is a mess, a few strands sticking to his forehead from breaking a sweat. 

Gojo just laughs in response, leaning back in the chair, watching Sukuna take his victory lap. 

Sukuna remembers the letter on his bed, retrieving it to store on the shared shelf against the wall with the other letters. He saves every one, filing it by date with the others. He reads them almost every day, like a book he never gets tired of and knows by heart. 

The letters are his most valuable possession by far. They keep him semi sane and bring him more comfort than anything else ever could. 

A clang at the cell door startles him, he’d been so focused on carefully putting the new letter away he hadn’t noticed the guard unlocking the door.

“Sukuna, get over here,” the guard barks.

Sukuna sighs out loud, wondering what they could want. It wasn’t his allotted computer time for school, and he wasn’t expecting visitors.

He turns around, the practiced routine of getting cuffed like muscle memory at this point. 

“You’re getting transferred, I’m taking you to processing.”

“Holy shit what?” Sukuna says in surprise. This was certainly a twist. 

“Prison system is too crowded, we need to move folks around to make space,” the guard says shortly, tugging him out into the hallway.

Sukuna’s eyes lock onto his shelf of letters.

“My things, can I take them? I need those letters-“ 

“No, everything’s gonna be trashed. Can’t take shit out of here,” the gruff response has him reeling.

Panic shoots through him, causing him to lunge back without thinking.

“Inmate what the fuck you think you’re doing,” the guard yanks him back, throwing him to the ground, bare stomach pressed into the cold tile floor. 

“Those are special to me, please, I’ll do anything…” he trails off, feeling tears start to well up. He can’t lose the only evidence of your connection he has. Never did he expect a bunch of paper would hold so much meaning to him. He didn’t even know your new address, and you wouldn’t know his either. 

Panic begins to set in, throat feeling tighter and tighter as chills trickle down his spine. 

“Nothing I can do about it,” the guard drags him back up, not bothering to look at him as he shoves Sukuna forward.  

For the third time, he feels like he’s losing you all over again. 

***

Normally you’d expect to hear something from Sukuna after about a month, but eight weeks later you were still letter-less. 

He hadn’t called either, which while calls from him were rare, one normally seemed to roll in once a month or so.

Today was not that day though, so you finished drinking your morning coffee on the balcony of your apartment, soaking in the summer rays and feeling the humidity starting to burn out of the early morning air.

Your phone buzzed on the table next to you, seeing it was your group chat blowing up. Some of you were planning to meet up downtown to hang out in the park, so you were just going to walk from your place.

In typical small town fashion, everyone was more connected than you’d realized. Yuki, who was married to Choso, Sukuna’s cousin, was also childhood friends with Utahime, Gojo’s baby mama / girlfriend. Your old friend, Shoko, was also off this weekend so she would be joining you as well.  

Yuki was saying that Choso was likely also coming with his younger brother Yuji, so you were mentally preparing to interact with a crowd of people in a little while. You’d met Choso in the grocery when you and Sukuna had gone together, but he’d dipped from the drug business shortly after Sukuna’s arrest. He’d initially done it for some side money, so not as involved as Sukuna.

You didn’t mind the boys coming, you enjoyed hearing the stories of young Sukuna and it felt good to be connected to at least some of his family during this time. Even though you had no relationship with his parents, the cousins were incredibly kind and welcomed you with open arms.

Little Yuji was just a ray of sunshine while Choso was more quiet and reserved. Sukuna existed somewhere in between, his goofy but intense personality a happy medium.

You sit in silence, distracted by a dog chasing a frisbee across the park, catching it after a graceful jump and trotting back to its owner. The owner rubs the dog's sides and praises it before tossing the disc across the grass again. 

Cute, you think to yourself, impressed with the way the dog always drops the toy at the man’s feet. After a few more rounds, you retreat back inside, cleaning up the counter before hopping in the shower. 

The hot water washes over you, relishing in the sting it brings. Your mind wanders to Sukuna again, racing as it turns over every stone, unearthing unfavorable scenarios as to why he isn’t responding.

Did he get hurt?

Did he get tired of doing this with you?

Was there someone else this whole time?

The possibilities just get more and more ridiculous as you let the water pour down your face. 

He seems so invested in this. Literally three years have passed at this point, why would he still be talking to you all this time if there were others? He didn’t seem like that type considering he was head over heels for you.

He was a drug dealer though, surely that type had girls fawning all over them. 

Especially Sukuna. He’s so good looking and just exudes an air of confidence that would draw in women like a moth to light. 

You shake your head, attempting to rid your mind of the intrusive thoughts. He’s given you no reason to think this way, why was your brain self sabotaging you at this point? 

Try to give yourself some grace, you remember that line one of your friends had dropped on you on a particularly tough night. 

Nothing about any of this is normal, you’re waiting for a man who would go to the ends of the earth for you. Prematurely ripped away from you when you both were wide eyed and hopeful about the world you were about to mold.

Now that scene you’d begun to paint looks nothing like it initially was intended, but the same two subjects were still within the frame, just on opposite ends of the parchment.

Holding onto that same hope that started it all. 

You haven’t cried in a while, but right now a moment of weakness seems to have overpowered you. There’s no point in fighting it, clearly your body is trying to release some of the tension that inevitably builds up over time as this isn’t your first rodeo breaking down in the shower.

What if you both get out and you are different people? People who no longer are interested in the other. All this time wasted like the water swirling down your drain. 

You’re putting so much faith in promises that will have been made ten years ago when it’s all said and done. The world can look entirely different by then.

But the underlying makeup should remain the same. The sun will still rise and set, the ground below your feet will still be solid, down to the atomic level everything will be made up of these little balls of protons, neutrons, and electrons, and gravity will still anchor you to the earth. 

Surely if the foundation of the earth is constant, you could relearn anything because you’d have a firm jumping point.

Your bond can hopefully do the same. It’s all you can have faith in at this point; trusting in the plans and pacts you and Sukuna forged after becoming one together. 

That alone brings you hope, and for now, it’s enough. 

***

“There she is!” you hear Yuji call out from behind you. The sounds of thumping footsteps only confirms his arrival as he appears at your side, diving onto the outdoor blanket you are sitting on.

“What’s up buddy?” you laugh as he rolls into a chaotic crash landing at your feet. The boy is only about 8 years old and has the accompanying energy to match. 

“School is almost over for summer, I can't wait!” he announces, rolling onto his back to look at you upside down.

“Yuji don’t dive onto people!” Choso’s delayed command sounds as he appears in your peripheral with Yuki in tow.

“Oh my gosh can you believe how lame that potluck was at work yesterday?” she giggles as she joins you on the blanket.

“This is why potlucks are so stupid. Workplace is too cheap to just get us food, we still need to do the work ourselves,” you roll your eyes, remembering how there were essentially seven separate packages of grocery store cookies and hardly any real food.

A dessert spread more than a team lunch. 

“Did you talk to Uncle Kuna?” Yuji rolls onto his stomach, pink hair wild and unruly after thrashing about on the ground. 

The breath catches in your throat as you are reminded of the situation. 

“I haven’t sweetie,” you respond, trying to hide the rawness in your voice.

“Why not?”

You feel your face sag slightly, unsure of what to say.

“I’m not sure, maybe he’s just busy,” you shrug.

“He might not want to talk to you!”

“Yuji!!” Choso snaps, grabbing him by the arm to pull him up. “That’s not nice to say to people. Apologize.”

He gives you an apologetic look while Yuji mutters a sorry before dashing off to the playground adjacent to your group.

You just chuckle, “it’s really alright, he doesn’t understand.”

“Yeah well still, it’s not okay,” Yuki scoffs, shaking her head as he bounds away. “Can’t believe that brat is technically my brother in law. No filter on him.”

All three of you laugh, it was pretty wild having a brother in law almost twenty years younger than you. 

“So you really haven’t heard from him?” Choso probes, laying out their own blanket next to you.

“Yeah, it’s been almost two months at this point. I don’t want to worry, but I’m worrying,” you give an awkward giggle.

“I mean yeah that’s not like him,” Yuki agrees, pulling the cooler over. “Beer?” she opens the lid.

“Sure,” you reach in and grab one, cracking open the can and letting the cold liquid trickle down your throat. 

“I hope he’s okay. Hopefully didn’t get in a fight and fuck himself up or something…or fuck up someone else and get in trouble,” Choso adds, taking a long sip of his drink. 

“Hey sorry I’m late!” Utahime appears, dropping the rowdy snow haired toddler in her arms into your lap while she unfolds her chair. 

“Nooooo!” the little girl squirms, attempting to launch herself from your arms while you hold her hostage. 

“Hey. Enough,” her mother says sternly as you release her onto the blanket in front of you. Bold blue eyes just stare back at everyone before she becomes preoccupied with the toys Utahime drops out of the diaper bag.

“Hey mommy, hanging in there?” Yuki asks an exhausted looking Utahime.

“As best I can, she sighs. Being a single mom is not what I ever wanted. Your daddy really picked a good time to go get locked up!” she says to the toddler with a smirk, but you know there’s at least a little truth to it. 

“We were just talking about how she hasn’t heard from Sukuna in over two months,” Yuki says as she rolls a ball for little Akari to play with. 

“Oh, hmm, Gojo actually got transferred a few weeks ago, I wonder if the same thing happened to Sukuna? It took a little while for me to find out about Gojo, but not this long of course.” 

“I’m calling it, he got in a fight,” Choso says again.

“Why do you keep saying that?” Yuki argues back. “He hasn’t had any issues this entire time.”

“Yeah he’s never said anything about not getting along with the other inmates,” you follow up, repositioning yourself to better face everyone. 

“If he got transferred though, that’s a whole new group of people. You didn’t know him before, but he was a literal demon when he was younger. Always scuffling with people, drunk fights in college, and always getting into it when he was a street dealer. Once he became the top dog, it kinda stopped,” Choso explained to your surprise. This part of him had never really come up until now.

“Wow seriously?” you respond, taken aback at his words.

“Yeah. He never like, seriously hurt someone, and he’s seemed to largely grow out of it, but still. Scary guy when we were younger,” Choso leans back on his hands, looking up at you.

“He just was so charming and goofy when we hung out, I can’t imagine it,” you smile, imagining Sukuna with a black eye or two strutting around like hot shit.

“Oh yeah, he’s a great guy at the end of the day. He’d do anything for the people he cares about,” Yuki adds. “In high school Choso got into some shit and since he couldn’t get out of it on his own, Sukuna took out like three other guys on his own. Scared them so bad they never fucked with him again. Most of his fights were justified in my eyes.”

“Unless it was Gojo,” Utahime laughs. “Those two fought all the fucking time. I don’t even think they knew why once they got older. Some kind of childhood rivalry that carried on and probably still does in jail. Could beat each other up and then the next day be best friends. Even in rival drug rings, there was some weird mutual respect between them. Honestly poetic they ended up cell mates.” 

This is what you loved about this group of friends. Everyone went so far back and had an entertaining history with each other. Plus hearing cringey Sukuna stories gave you teasing ammunition for when he got out. 

“Hun I’m sure he’s okay, he’s not an idiot. He knows he needs to behave to get out. I don’t think he’d intentionally jeopardize his future with you like that,” Utahime pats your shoulder in support, giving you an understanding smile.

“I hope so,” you answer, feeling a little better about everything.

“I’m sure of it. Gojo says he rambles on about you all the time. He’s got your letters all securely stored and sorted. Said he reads them all every day.”

You can’t tell if your heart wants to break or swell in response. It’s so sweet that he’s like that, but also makes you feel very sad for him. It must be so lonely in there, you just want to hug and comfort him.

If only he’d let you visit! Stubborn bastard.

The rest of the afternoon is a blast. Shoko eventually joins too after her shift. You are thankful for this support system you happened to find yourself in. It makes everything just a little easier.

***

3 Years

“Fuck, I’m so glad you picked up!” Sukuna’s voice on the other line makes you drop your phone in surprise. 

Four months. Four fucking months since you heard anything from him. 

“Sukuna!! Where have you been? I was so worried!” you sob into the phone once you get it out from under the kitchen table as it took an unlucky bounce. Thank god it didn’t hang up!

“Oh god, it’s a long story. I got transferred, and it took fucking forever to get processed out and into the new place. No phone time and I couldn’t remember your new address of course. Well then I get in there and immediately get jumped by some other inmates. Guess there is some serious hierarchy in this place and they like to intimate the newbies. 

“Unfortunately for them, I kinda laid them out. You see sweets, I can throw a punch or two.”

“So I heard from your cousin,” you snicker, Choso was right all along.

“Ugh, that dick. I’m not like that anymore. Well, except for now, fuck! Not what I meant… let me finish the story!” you can imagine him shaking his head in annoyance.

“Well they fucked me up too. I don’t look too hot unless you’re into that. So I got put into a solitary area more so for mine and their own protection. So once again, no phone or letter time,” he finishes with an exasperated sigh.

“Oh Sukuna, I'm sorry that happened to you. I’m so glad you’re okay though. I was worried sick!”

“Aw you were worried about me tomato girl?” he says in a playful tone.

“Course I was you idiot! I’m always worried about you. Can you just make sure to come back home in one piece?” you huff at him while sporting a huge smile. You don’t even care, just over the moon that he's okay.

“I’ll try, baby. Anything for you,” his velvety voice serenades your ears. You’d missed it so much, hearing it again has parts of your brain firing up that you swear have been dormant the last few months. 

“Good.” 

It’s all you can say, tears threatening to burst from your eyes from happiness.

“Are you crying?”

“Sh-shut up Sukuna!” you stutter, sniffling into the phone as you feel the screen get damp against your cheek. 

His playful laugh sounds from the other side.

“It’s okay baby. It really is. I promise-“

“I'm just so happy to hear your voice, you have no idea,” you force out, trying to regain your composure. You don’t want to waste these precious minutes crying. 

“Me too sweets. My knees practically buckled when you answered. God I miss you so much. It’s okay now though. There shouldn’t be any more fights or shit. They know I’m not gonna fuck with them as long as they leave me be.” 

“I’m glad.”

“How’s the move and new job been?” he changes the subject.

“It’s been going great actually. Pretty much settled at the new job and my new place feels just like home. I missed the slower pace of life here. And the kind people. I’m right where I need to be. Just waiting on you,” you answer him. 

“I know. A third of the way there. Think you can wait the rest of it out?”

“I do. My friends and family have been a godsend. Your family and Utahime as well. It feels less like I’m going through it alone.”

“Tch, you hanging out with Gojo’s girl is so fitting. She’s a good woman though sticking by him through all this. Honestly he is too. You’ll have to meet him when we get out.”

“I heard you all have quite the history,” you giggle.

“With that bastard? Absolutely. It’s all mutual though. I’m better though, in all ways,” he grumbles.

You both sit in silence, daring the other to speak first. Finally you cave, some of the insecurities from earlier rearing their ugly heads.

“Hey Sukuna?”

“Hmm?”

“What if you get out and we’re completely different people and it’s…not the same?” you tremble as you finish your question.

“Then I’ll just make you fall in love with me all over again,” he answers as if it’s the most obvious and simple response. 

“But what if it’s you who doesn’t want me?”

“Tch, impossible.”

“Sukuna! Be serious!” you whine.

“Sweetheart, I am being serious, it would take an act of god for me to stop loving you. Think about it, we only knew each other for a short time and I fell so hard so fast. I don’t fall in love. Never have, thought I never would. But I did, and I don’t regret it for a second.

“Over the past three years, I’ve only fallen more and more. It might seem weird to you considering I’m in jail, but with how you go out of your way to stay in touch and talk to me, how you stay by my side through the bad…so much bad, it means more than anything to me. I can’t wait to spoil you rotten and try to make it all up to you, to show you how you mean everything to me. I don’t think I could ever compare to the devotion you’ve exhibited over the years, but I’m gonna fuckin’ try.”

You have to sit down as the butterflies explode in your gut. Why you? Why was it you he allowed into his life and decided to love so fiercely? One day you’ll ask, but for now you’ll just have to trust him and believe in him, just like he’s believed in you all these years.

“I’ve gotta go in a minute,” Sukuna says after a pause. “I promise to be more in touch now. Still good to talk on Saturday mornings?”

“Yes, one hundred percent. I was worried I’d need to call a different inmate when I stopped hearing from you.”

He gives an amused huff in response.

“You better not!” he whines, “only allowed to talk to me.”

“You’re the only one I want to talk to anyways you goof,” you laugh. 

“Good. I love you tomato girl. Always.”

“I love you too Sukuna.”

*** 

3 Years 3 Months

Sukuna is surprised he isn’t more animated as Hiromi opens the car door for him. Maybe everything still just doesn’t seem real yet, the shock from the morning yet to wear off after being told he was being let out on parole. After mentally preparing himself to be locked up for ten years, having the rug pulled out from under him in the best possible way had rocked him to his core. 

He recalls how he was immediately processed and escorted to his lawyer who thankfully guided him into the parking lot as he was trapped in a state of disbelief.

Everything is overwhelming. The sounds of traffic and cars on the highway was foreign at this point and the wide open expanses of the rolling hills and farmland felt too exposed compared to being locked away in a low ceiling cell with one source of natural light and only one person to talk to all day. 

As they got closer to town, all the changes that happened while locked away were becoming too much to process. A new president, new buildings appearing all over, gas prices that made his eyes pop out of his head. 

Everything was so different, but he prayed that your love for him had remained unchanged. All these other things he could figure out, but you no longer wanted him, nothing else mattered. 

“Can you take me downtown? Jefferson street along the river,” he blurts out to Hiromi.

“Of course. Is that where she is now?”

“Yeah,” Sukuna replies simply, heart starting to race at the thought of seeing you.

The closer they got, the more he truly believed he’d have to ask his lawyer to pull the car over to puke all over the side of the road. Being forced into a life without you for ten years had been scary, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer terror that would follow as he prepares to show up unannounced to the woman he needs more than life itself, not knowing if she’d take him back.

“Want me to wait?”  Hiromi jars him from his thoughts, now parked next to an old brick warehouse fixed up into condos.

Is the damn lawyer thinking the same thing? That there’s a very real possibility of the life he’d built in his mind crumbling before his eyes?

“Nah, I got it,” Sukuna shoots Hiromi his trademark smirk before turning around and heading towards the lobby door.

***

It’s a paperwork day so that means working from home. You appreciate these times so you can get some chores done while you’re at it. Usually you can swing one day a week remote and it really has improved your quality of life.

Moving some clothes from the washer to the dryer, you glance up at the time. 

2 PM. 

Just about two more hours and you’ll be done for the day. You start the dryer, leaving the laundry basket next to the machine so you can collect everything and fold them later. 

Trudging back to the office, you sit down and stare out the window. At least it’s Friday, and with only two more charts to complete, you very much intend to drag out the day until the weekend. 

Just as you begin to start the next chart, your doorbell rings.

Weird, it’s not too common to have anyone coming to your door considering you live in a condo that opens to an interior building hallway. 

Sighing in annoyance, you leave the office and cross the living room, cracking the door to peer out into the hallway.

If you weren’t leaning against the brick wall next to you, you probably would have blacked out and fainted as your eyes reveal what is before you.

Messy pink hair. Tired crimson eyes. Tattoos wrapped around his wrists and painting his face and sharp jawline.

“What the fuck!?!” you shriek as you fling the door open the rest of the way, hearing it slam the wall.

You stand, frozen in the doorway, feeling about five different emotions at once as you try to process what stands before you. Your brain would just have to catch up later though because your legs propel you towards him as you launch yourself into his arms, hugging him as tight as you can. Even though he smells like some cheap, sterile shampoo, to you, it’s the best thing your nose has ever inhaled as you press your face into his toned chest. 

It means he’s here. With you. In the flesh. Why? You haven’t a clue.

Sukuna’s arms hover behind you as if he’s trying to make sure you’re real. Trying to make sure this is real. Everything he’d dreamed of right here in front of him. He’d walked up to your place, stomach in knots as he tried to prepare himself to face you for the first time in over three years. Would you actually want to see him? Was there the possibility of you living some double life he didn’t know about?

None of that seems to be the case though, and he finally cages you against him, arms wrapped around your back making you feel more secure and safe than you ever have.

All the emotion begins to well up into the form of tears on his shirt as the somatic response leaves your body. Sobbing against him, you twist your fingers into the back of his shirt as your knees become shaky. Sukuna must notice because he hauls you up off your feet and carries you through the doorway, kicking it shut behind him. Once inside, he leans back against the door, supporting your body while you just unleash all the pain from three years.

“H-h-how? Why? What the fuck is going on?” you choke out, finally starting up into the crimson eyes you only saw in your dreams.

“Why don’t we sit down before you hurt yourself,” Sukuna chuckles and that almost makes your legs feel like jello all over again. His laugh. Hearing it in person. It dislodges another piece of the grief inside and has you crying all over again.

“Sweetheart I hope these are tears of joy or happiness,” he lifts you into his arms once he realizes you can’t walk again. 

“Of course they are you idiot,” you rasp out as he lowers you both to your couch, cradling you against his chest before setting you gently next to him.

“I got released on parole this morning. I’m not a hundred percent in the clear, but I don’t need to go back to jail. I have to check in with a parole officer and have some conditions I need to live by for the rest of the sentence, but other than that, I’m out. I can start living my life again,” his smile only grows as he explains, as if finally believing it himself.

You just stare at him in disbelief, all your prayers answered and the evidence is sitting right in front of you. 

“I just can’t believe it. You’re here. We’re together again. Do you still want me? Like want to do this with me? Life together?” you start rambling out the thoughts as they come into your head.

“Course I do. That’s why I came to you first tomato girl,” he melts your heart with the boyish grin you never forgot about.

“I’m your first stop?”

“Mhmm. And my last.”

You launch yourself into his arms again, straddling his lap and studying his face closer as he wraps you up in his arms again. His thumb reaches up to swipe the tears off your cheeks, red eyes boring into your soul, briefly flicking down to your lips before darting back to meet your gaze.

Leaning in slowly, your noses brush, lips trembling as they brush against his. Your fingers run up through his hair, twisting into the fluffy pink locks, blinking in disbelief that he’s really here.

Soft, chaste kisses are shared between you both as you start to re-acquaint yourselves with each other. You feel incredibly nervous, like it's your first kiss all over again, so you pull back briefly so you can catch your breath since apparently you forgot to breathe through all of that.

His lidded eyes meet yours, grinning at you while you feel your face heat up.

“You okay?” he asks softly, tracing small circles on your back where his hands are resting.

“Yeah, I’m just so nervous for some reason,” you chuckle, noticing a slight blush creeping across his cheeks.

“I am too, but it’s okay. You don’t need to impress me. I’m the happiest man alive right now even though it's clumsy and out of sync. It’s with you, and that alone makes this the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

“You’re gonna make me cry again Sukuna,” you force out. He’s being so sweet, but he’s right. Who the fuck cares, you’ll both figure it out together. You have a whole lifetime ahead of you.

“Well let’s practice again hmm?” Sukuna purrs, hand moving to cup your cheek and pull you in again. This time his tongue swipes along your bottom lip, making you gasp in surprise. You can feel the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as your tongue meets his, moving together in a clumsy dance as you re-familiarize yourself with how he tastes.

You giggle as your teeth accidentally clash with his, but that seems to loosen you up a little and you quickly forget about it, running your tongue along his gums and chasing his around his mouth. Finally finding a decent rhythm, your movements become more and more desperate, Sukuna’s grasp on your chin tightening as he deepens the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip.

Your hands start to wander, slipping under his shirt and grazing your fingertips over his rigid abs and chest, feeling every dip and ridge of his muscles as you feel him up. Sukuna groans into your mouth and you feel something hard twitch beneath you, instinctively grinding yourself against him. The pressure on your clothed clit makes you moan against his lips, feeling his hands moving to grip your hips to push you against his erection again, harder this time.

“Su-Sukunaaa,” you gasp, pulling back to glance down, his thick bulge prominent against his pants, you situated right on top of it. Your heart is pounding so fast you think it might burst, feeling the heat rush to your core.

“Hmm?” Sukuna leans back to look up at you, lidded eyes full of lust, “we can stop if you want baby.”

“Can we just…go somewhere else more comfortable? Not my living room,” you mutter, “I’m just not used to any of this. Feel like I’m going through my first time all over again,” you chuckle.

Sukuna’s lips curl into a grin, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Of course, your bedroom?”

You nod and he carries you down the hall, setting you down on your bed as he kicks his shoes off before joining you. Laying down your head on the pillows, you pull him back on top of you to kiss you again, hands trailing down to his waist and pulling his shirt up to his shoulders.

“Shirt off?” Sukuna asks, face hovering just above yours.

“Mhmm.”

Sukuna sits back on his heels, pulling it off and tossing it on the floor.

His body takes your breath away. He’s even more muscular than you remember, tattoos snaking down his torso to disappear into the waistband of his pants, the top of his boxers bunched up on his hips.

You can’t help yourself, sitting up to run your hands all over him, shamelessly feeling him up and tracing each trail of ink down his body, not yet brave enough to follow them lower.

“You’re so jacked holy shit,” you whine as you start to focus on his abs.

“Heh, not much to do in there besides endless pushups tomato girl,” he chuckles, eyes watching your hands, clearly enjoying your exploration.

“I wanna take my clothes off, but you’re just so fucking shredded I feel like I’m gonna look like a joke compared to you,” you smirk at him, fiddling nervously with your shirt.

“Baaaaby you’re the most beautiful woman to me. Look, I want you to be comfortable, but fuck I wanna see you. I promise I’m gonna love it,” Sukuna starts to get more of a feral look in his eye, voice a little whiny in anticipation.

“Okay, just like, don’t look okay?” you laugh, not even sure why that is going to help anything, he’s going to see the end result anyways. Standing up, you peel off your outer layers, leaving your bra and panties on.

Sukuna is behaving, looking away from you like you asked. It warms your heart, and that gives you the final push to just take off everything. It’ll be a nice surprise for him.

“You can look now,” you giggle, laying back down.

Sukuna turns around and disbelief hits his face as soon as he sees you.

“Oh my godddd, so fuckin’ sexy,” his eyes immediately focus on your tits. You reach for his hand and place it on your breast, watching the way his jaw tenses up as his eyes almost bug out of his head.

“Fuckkkkk baby. First woman I’ve seen naked in 3 fuckin’ years. Last one too. God I need to get my pants off or I think I might seriously bust all over myself. Well, still might, but all this pressure is killing me.”

You burst out laughing, sitting up to unbutton his pants while he gropes all over your tits, squeezing the plush flesh between his fingers and brushing his fingertips across your nipples.

Sukuna lets go of you momentarily to shimmy off his pants and boxers, finally freeing his cock from its confines, hanging heavy in front of you. You can’t help but swallow hard, no way you can take all that! Sure you have before, but that was when you weren’t coming off a 3 and a half year dry spell.

“Sukuna fuck! You’re so big!” you reach out to fondle his balls before wrapping your hand around his shaft, making his whole body jerk in response. “I fuckin’ want it though, but god you’re gonna kill me with that thing.”

Sukuna inhales sharply as you stroke his length, teeth digging into his lip as he watches your hand work him.

“Oh my fuckin’ god, shit baby, feels so gooooood,” Sukuna groans, thrusting up into your hand one time before gasping, ripping your hand away.

“Shit I’m gonna cum so fast whatever we do, I’m not gonna even be able to fuck you properly, I apologize in advance,” a deep flush spreads to his neck and chest as you notice his tip leaking with so much pre-cum, his whole cock is glistening and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

“Just finger me real quick Kuna, please, I need something at this point,” you moan, your cunt starting clench around nothing, desperate for some kind of relief.

He moves quickly, pushing you back down into the pillows as his hand caresses your inner thigh, inching closer to your needy pussy.

“So fucking beautiful, all for me,” he groans, brushing his knuckles against your soaking cunt.

“Baaaaby soooo wet already goddamn,” his husky voice says as he drags some of your slick up to your clit, rubbing tight circles against your bundle of nerves.

“Oh my godddd, Sukuna!” you squeal, everything so sensitive but experiencing pleasure like you haven’t in years. Your vibrators were good, but he was better.

Your eyes slam shut, writhing as he stimulates your clit. It’s pure bliss, finally able to be intimate with the man you love, touching you in the way you’ve craved. Then you feel it, a push at your entrance as his thick finger starts stretching out your walls, working you open with shallow thrusts.

“Ah, fuck!” you grimace at the brief moment of pain that quickly gives way to pleasure as his knuckles drag along your velvety walls.

“You okay?” he asks, thrusting slowly in and out, the clicking sounds indicating how wet you are each time he pushes back in.

“Yeah, just hurt at first. Do another,” you force out, the pleasure intensifying as you get used to the feeling.

Sukuna briefly pulls out, the loss of fullness making you needy. He’s quick to refill you though, the burning stretch returning as he pushes two fingers inside, making you grip his arm in pain. 

“Breathe, relax, you’re clenching me so hard, which I’d normally love, but it's hurting you,” Sukuna says gently, not going any deeper, watching you carefully.

You focus on your breathing, inhaling and exhaling deeply a few times, trying to slacken the muscles in your pelvis.

“That’s better, keep doing that,” he purrs, talking you through it as he starts to thrust deeper, the pain soon subsiding. Every thrust of his fingers hits a new angle inside of you, probing for your sweet spot. Eventually, one spot has you moaning, arching your chest into his where he settled next to you.

“Hmm baby, right there? Like this?” he hums as he crooks his fingers up into your sweet spot, fingerfucking you at such a grueling pace that all you can do is whine and turn into a writhing mess beneath him. Your vision is seeing stars at this point as he pushes you towards your release. 

Sukuna leans down to pull a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud while his thumb pad presses against your clit.

“Sukuna! Ohh-oh my god, please, don’t stop, just like that! Fuck Sukuna!” you start babbling nonsense as the pool of desire deep within your cunt begins to ignite, causing you to shatter as the orgasm tears through your body. Your fingers rip through his hair as you arch into his face, cunt gushing onto his hand while clenching so hard, sucking his fingers in deeper.

“Oh fuckkkkk, yesss like that baby, god cum all over me. Fuckin’ perfect girl,” Sukuna’s deep voice just makes it all better as he makes sure you are stimulated through every second of your climax. Finally your body stills, feeling his fingers slip out, coated in your juices.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” Sukuna says with a pop as he pulls them out of his mouth, glancing down at your ruined state before leaning down to pepper your chest and neck with kisses, making you giggle as he finally finds your lips again.

“Mmm want you to fuck me Kuna,” you whine.

“Yeah? God baby I wanna fuck you too, been dreaming of the next time I could feel you clenching around me. How do you wanna do this? I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m not gonna last. Like I’m thinking bad bad, thirty seconds tops,” he gives you a boyish grin.

“Sukuna seriously?” you laugh, not sure if he’s just being dramatic or not.

“I’m dead serious sweetheart, thought i was going to when you were in my lap earlier. Probably even worse than my first time, I’m fighting love this time around too,” he laughs, kissing you on the nose.

“Aww, well I don’t care either way, just wanna feel close to you,” you smile back at him. “We have forever for you to work your stamina up again. Lots of practice in our future.”

“Damn right. How do you wanna do this?”

“Something with lots of skin on skin contact and intimacy,” you respond.

“Alright, missionary it is. Spread’em tomato girl,” Sukuna nudges your legs apart, “got a condom or anything?” 

“Uhhhh no, I have not slept with anyone since you, so I never bought any more” you chuckle.

“Hmph, good. I can pull out-”

“You and I both know you aren’t doing that, and quite frankly I don’t want you to. Fuckin’ fill me up and we can go get a plan b later,” you tease him.

“Girlllll you are….so right though, no way am I gonna fuck you for the first time in years and cum anywhere other than that perfect pussy,” Sukuna growls, lining himself up. He glances up at you one last time and after an approving nod, he pushes his thick cock inside of you.

“Ohhhh my god,” Sukuna collapses on top of you, trembling and shaking as he wraps his arm around your back, pulling you close while resting the other next to your head.

The stretch is intense but quickly subsides as his cock gets slicked up by your arousal. Your heart is so full of love for Sukuna, tears threatening to spill over.

“Look at me,” you pull his chin down, knowing he’s trying to screw his eyes shut to last. When you meet the reds of his eyes, they are full of the same adoration and love you know are in yours, eyes watering as his face contorts to fight back the tears.

Neither of you move, Sukuna bottomed out inside of you while you desperately try to keep yourself from clenching around him.

“I love you,” you whisper, his forehead pressed against yours, every inch of his skin pressed hot against you. It's the most intimate moment you’ve ever had where neither person is moving, but it isn’t needed. All the commitment and hard work you’ve both put in over the years at making this work, being there for each other, and pushing each other to be the best version of yourselves all while physically apart has culminated into this moment of working together one last time to prolong this feeling.

“I love you too. Can’t believe I-ah, I got so lucky to find you in this life. You waited for me, never gave up on me, fuck,” he groans, unable to finish sentence as you clench around him making him thrust once in response.

“Fuuuuuck, I can’t… I’m sorry, I’m-shit, fuck- gonna cum” he starts thrusting his cock into you, his thick tip dragging along your walls as he starts to throb inside of you. Slow and deep, his whole body is shaking as he whimpers just before feeling him spill his hot seed into your cunt.

“Ahhh - shit, I love you,” he moans your name as he pushes himself as deep as he can, cock pulsing as he pumps everything into you, filling you so much that you feel some trickling out down your thigh.

He collapses onto your chest, face buried in the crook of your neck as his breaths are hot on your skin. You run your fingers down his back, a loving caress as you trace the ink snaking down his muscles.

You’re not sure how long you stay like this, but eventually Sukuna sits up, pressing a kiss to your cheek before pulling out of you and moving to your side, pulling you up against his bare chest.

“I didn’t get to finish what I was saying when my dick rudely interrupted me,” he chuckles, “but thank you for not giving up on me. I promise I’m done with that life and I’m devoted to building this new one with you. I swear to god I’ll take care of you, you’ll be my equal, my partner, and my best friend and I’ll always put you first. You’ll never be alone again. 

“I love you so much Sukuna. I was ready to wait longer, but I’m never going to complain that you came back early, this is easily one of the best days of my life. I’ll never take for granted the special moments we share together.”

“I love you too. Let’s sleep, I’m so fucking happy that from now on I’ll be waking up to you for the rest of my life,” Sukuna says, positioning himself to spoon you, finally letting his tears silently fall into your hair.

One more Chapter and it will be a happy fluffy epilogue!

<< Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 >>

Masterlist

taglist: @clp-84 @zeunys @aquaberrydolphin @nynxtea @yuujispinkhair @ssc7514 @sukubusss @scorpiosugar @kiixonmm @xlilycoco @nina-from-317

[paarksunghoon]

hello omg i love love LOVE deep honey, which is rare cus i usually do not touch fluff at all but smth abt the way u wrote got to me. i was wondering that in case u wanted an idea, u could write abt sunghoon rushing over to take care of his sick girlfriend? :3 just a thought or any headcannons u have on that would do fine but if u wanna turn it into a drabble or fic that's good too, especially if it's a continuation of deep honey

anyways, that is all from me, have a good day!!!

thank you so much :’) for all of my nsfw drabbles and content, I really enjoy writing the softer kind of stories. switched up the request just a little. consider this a token of my appreciation for your kindness. xx

ps this is what I’m imaging him wearing

***

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that nothing good could ever happen when you text someone past 2AM.

Both existential and physical dread consume you the second you open your texts and see a plethora of unread messages due to your current state of being. You’ve been bedridden for what feels like years but it’s only been a few of days. It’s technically Sunday morning and technically you should be fast asleep, especially since you’d taken medication to help you rest throughout the night. But seems like your body has other plans for you.

Tossing and turning won’t do either. Your head feels much better than it has for the past two days. You’d taken two days off or classes because of intense migraines paired with what seems like onset sickness due to it being flue season. Guilt over missing classes and groveling to your professors (even if they extended grace and told you to rest up) ate you alive, only ebbing away when you closed your eyes and slept.

Your roommate has been away because of a family event and what was once a promising weekend full of relaxation and the apartment to yourself is now a time for you to wallow in your misery. You’ve gone through countless tissues and have slept more in the past few days than in your entire life. It feels like your head might as well be cut off with how many problems your eyes, nose, and throat are giving you.

To pass the time, social media distracts you for a few minutes and you catch glimpses of what your friends have been up to. Partying. Studying. Eating at the cafeteria. All of these are mundane events you took for granted because you’d love to be anywhere but rotting away in your apartment. You’d rather studying for a midterm over feeling like you can’t move without losing your breath.

You take this time to catch up on texts as well. There are so many what remain unread by you and guilt crawls up your spine as you begin to reply to everything.

hi riki!! sorry I haven’t replied yet. I’ve been sick all weekend :/ I wish I could’ve gone to jake’s game with u bc it looked so fun ☹️

jungwon ur your cat is so cute omg…please send more vids. also sorry for replying late im sick lol

sunoo I swear to god if you watch another episode without me, I’m gonna beat your ass whenever I recover

yes, mom. I’m resting as much as I can! sorry I haven’t responded sooner. I still feel sick

heeseung do u think sunghoon would be weirded out if i text him right now. pls advise 😁

Heeseung immediately reads the message and the text bubble appears straight away. He’s one of your closest friends in university who always happens to be friends with Park Sunghoon, the guy you’ve been talking to for the past month and a half.

heeseung: Nah not weird. He’d probably like hearing from you

heeseung: He was asking about you earlier today and said you haven’t been talking to him as much

you: looking at my phone made me nauseous :/

heeseung: You should probably tell him that bc he’s been staring at his phone all day

you: soooo it wouldn’t be weird if I texted him out of the blue rn?? usually we don’t like…start conversations so late

heeseung: You’re overthinking. Just text him and if he doesn’t reply then he’s asleep and will text you in the morning

you: I’m scared of fucking it up

heeseung: There’s nothing to fuck up. If he gets mad that you took care of yourself (he won’t be) then he’s the one who fucked up

you: ugh when did u become the voice of reason

heeseung: :)

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard after you’ve opened Sunghoon’s text. You can imagine his slight pout when you think about how he’d react when he realizes you haven’t texted him back, which makes you feel even more guilty than you already are.

You’re not really sure how you started talking to him, let alone befriended Heeseung to the point where he started inviting you to hang out with him and his group of friends. Heeseung had originally been a study partner for a shared class back when the two of you were sophomores. It’s been a couple of years since then and now most of your conversations consist of TikTok jokes and Heeseung having to deal with you pining over one of his friends.

Sunghoon is every bit of cool you can imagine. He was so quiet when you first met him, residing in his oversized sweater since it was approaching the beginning of autumn. Heeseung invited you to a local bar on a Friday night after midterms and said your first drink would be on him if you made it before last call, knowing very well you were likely getting ready to slip underneath your blankets and call it a night.

He was right as always. You showed up wearing jeans and an old shirt with a jacket that was too big for your body. You’d made somewhat of an effort to look presentable since you’d be hanging out with his friends near campus and would rather not look like you’d gotten rolled over by a locomotive. It was there you met Sunghoon for the first time. He was so quiet that you barely heard him talk until an hour into hanging out with him, but that’s when you learned that he was someone you needed to get to know before he’d show you his loud, boisterous personality.

The more you hung out with him, the more you started to picture yourself with Sunghoon, away from the group you started to call your friends too. You’d only see him when Heeseung invited you out or if you bumped into someone else while Sunghoon was in tow with them. Neither of you seemed to cross paths otherwise and even then, Sunghoon was a bit too timid to approach you first and start a conversation.

Part of you wondered if you were ever too bold when you’d get drunk with him and your friends. You were loud, full of laughter and affection that none of your friends were surprised every time you shouted compliments across the tables and declared your love for the little group you considered to be your family away from home. Heeseung had gotten used to it pretty quickly and so did the others, albeit it took a while for their ears to stop glowing red every time you’d pull them into a drunken hug.

Maybe you sent a little too far with Sunghoon, who immediately tensed when your arms wrapped around his shoulders the first time you let your inhibitions down fully. A few beers and shots in, and Heeseung was anticipating your drunken rant about how much you love the little life the five of you had created and hoped that it would continue even after you all graduate.

Sunghoon always looked a bit intimidating with his dark, thick eyebrows and shielded his wandering eyes. He always looked like he knew what he wanted and his grace always made you think twice about what you’d say to him. Although, you knew this was the beginning of an onset crush that wouldn’t remain hidden for long, let alone when you weren’t sober.

So you’d thrown your arms around Sunghoon’s shoulder and told him how happy you were that Heeseung introduced the two of you. While you try not to think about that moment too much, you recall telling Sunghoon that he was slowly starting to become one of your favorite people because of how funny he is when people least expect it. You liked that he was so kind to his friends and that he was so confident in himself, and that you wished you could be a little more like him.

You also said he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. It was a sobering moment because he looked at you like you’d grown two heads and his shoulders felt like they might’ve been pushing you off of his body.

Stumbling with consistent apologies, none of your mutual friends seemed to notice what was happening behind them. You can picture the look on his face when your mind crosses to this moment, how he’d looked at you with bewilderment with his mouth ajar. Sunghoon didn’t say anything and you took that cue to leave him alone and head to the bar, where you hoped distance would make this night seem less tragic than it was.

When morning came around, you were the only person in your shared group chat who declined getting a late morning breakfast due to your embarrassment. Even during the next weekend, when Jake opened up his apartment for a casual hang out, you were the only person who didn’t show up, citing work and study stresses keeping you away from your friends.

Heeseung knew those were merely excuses.

“Cut the shit, Y/N. Are you okay? Did one of the guys do anything to make you uncomfortable?” The worst laced in his tone made you feel guilty for having him think the worse of people he knew before he met you.

“No, nothing like that. I think I’m the one who fucked up and made them uncomfortable.”

“Well clearly not since Jake invited you to his place. What’s going on? Do you want me to come over?”

The last thing you expected from Heeseung was to see him double over in laugher when you explained your predicament, clutching onto your bed like he’d fall to the ground if he didn’t. You’re sure that fit of laugher gave him a new set of abs.

“Sunghoon wasn’t weirded out. He texted me and asked if you were okay.” Heeseung pulled his phone out of his pocket to show you, leaving you in a cloud of confusion. “He probably likes you. Sunghoon’s a natural with girls even if he doesn’t realize they’re flirting with him. I think he likes you too because he’s acting really awkward because he doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

That night left you with more question than answers. You considered texting Sunghoon and asking if the two of you could talk, but you didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable and tell him what Heeseung told you in fear of putting your friend in an awkward position. So you let the discomfort settle and braved seeing him the next time one of your friends invited you out.

Which, to no one’s surprise, was the weekend after Jake’s get together. Seoul’s autumn carnival was in its third weekend by the time the five of you were able to find adequate time to ride every rollercoaster and eat until your stomachs caved in. You loved the fair and were the first person to buy an admission ticket. Poor Jay, who wasn’t the biggest fan of big rides in the first place, tagged along with Jake every time he insisted on it. You tried your best to keep some distance between yourself and Sunghoon, even if Heeseung said you were being ridiculous. You’d chosen to stick by him until Sunghoon volunteered to help you pick up the food trays when you lost a game of rock-paper-scissors.

“I’m sorry that I acted weird that night,” he said, cutting the silence as the two of you waited for your order. He didn’t have to explain. You knew what he was talking about. “Heeseung said you felt bad for making me feel uncomfortable but I need you to know you didn’t make me feel that way.”

That was the longest sentence he’d ever said to you, let alone it being the first time he initiated a conversation with you. He watched as you stood with your eyes wide and mouth parted like you wanted to say something but didn’t know how to say it.

“I think you just caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting you to say nice things about me. I didn’t realize we were that close because you’d been affectionate with everyone but me up until that night.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I was, uh, flustered.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He averted your gaze and looked at his shoes momentarily before he looked back at you. “I liked what you said. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

You laughed at the awkwardness dissipating. “I thought I crossed a line, or something. You just sat there and I thought I fucked up by touching you.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t. I…I liked it a lot.” You tried to hide a grin by keeping your bubbling excitement under wraps failed miserably. Sunghoon smiled too, offering to carry most of the trays back to the table where your friends were too hungry to talk for the next ten minutes.

The memory brings you back to the present where your thumbs hover the keyboard. You start to read back the conversation between the two of you and feel those butterflies erupt in your stomach for the umpteenth time. The two of you have talked about anything and everything. Nothing is off limits. So why is texting him to let him know you’ve been sick for the past few days so difficult for you?

you: hi

you: sorry I haven’t texted a lot in the past few days. I’ve been having migraines and now I’ve caught a cold ):

you: im sorry for texting so late too

He texts immediately.

sunghoon: You don’t have to be sorry. Are you feeling better now?

sunghoon: Actually don’t answer that

Your phone rings.

“Hey,” you say with your phone propped against your ear. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me. I’m the only who’s calling you when you’re sick, so I’m technically the one bothering you.” His laugh on the other line makes you smile a little too hard. “I was really worried. None of the guys heard from you so I figured you needed some space.”

“Unfortunately. I had to skip a few classes because it hurt to stand up. I’m pretty sure I’ve slept more this past week than I have in the last month.”

“I’m sorry. That really sucks.”

“I feel bad that I haven’t been able to talk to you.”

As if Sunghoon could sense you pouting, he clicks his tongue and reassures you. “It’s fine, Y/N. I’d probably do the same thing. I can’t imagine how much pain you’ve been in.”

“I would honestly rather study and take a million midterms than go through this again. I feel like someone just took their shoe off of my head.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re doing better. Can I bring you anything? Medicine, maybe?”

You cough a little. “No, but thank you. My friend dropped off a lot of NyQuil and other stuff to help me. It’s working…kind of. Still feel like shit, though.”

“…Can I come over? To help you with your sickness, of course. I can bring you soup.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You frantically rise from your bed amidst his words and realize there are tissues on the ground and dirty clothes strewn everywhere because of your lack of energy. Your living room must be a mess, too, and this would also be the first time Sunghoon would see you without any makeup on.

“I want to. But I mean, only if you’re up for it. I don’t want to stress you out since you’re sick. I just want to help make you feel better. That…and I miss you.”

Sunghoon’s never been so direct before. Even though the two of you have been talking for a while, neither of you have been so forward about it. Conversations are always subtly flirty to the point where the effervescent feeling simmers just underneath the surface. The two of you have hung out without the rest of your friends and have been alone before, but neither one of you has gone so far as you be so bold about the other.

“I miss you too,” you whisper into the phone.

“Give me thirty minutes. I’ll come with soup.”

He hangs up and with a newfound sense of urgency, you make your bed and throw away any stray trash. You put your dirty laundry in the hamper, which is piled high and untouched. It’ll be a problem for when you’re not sick.

The living room isn’t too bad. You straighten furniture and throw away empty takeout containers and wash a few utensils. The tasks don’t feel as draining as they did a few days ago and you’re starting to regain a little bit of your breath.

True to his word, Sunghoon arrives thirty minutes after he said he would. You open the door and look at him. He’s wearing blue hoodie and sweatpants with specs that make him look significantly more attractive than you’re used to.

“Hi,” Sunghoon says with a gentle smile. “I missed you.”

You bite your lip and blurt out your first thought. “You look really good in those glasses.”

Sunghoon chuckles. “Thank you. Can I come in?”

“Right, right.” You step aside and he follows you into your apartment. He takes his shoes off and places them neatly by the shoe rack.

“I might need to reheat this. I got it from that place near my apartment. You know, the one with the yellow banner?”

“I love that place.”

He smiles at you. “I know. Can I heat up some soup for you?”

When you nod, Sunghoon moves to the correct cabinet and pulls out everything he needs. It astounds you because he’s only ever been to your apartment twice before, both times with your other friends in tow. It dawns on you that it’s the first time the two of you are alone in your space. You’re touched that he remembers where your things are.

He beckons you to sit on the counter in front of the steaming bowl and the aroma of spices makes your mouth water. You haven’t been able to eat consistently in the past few days, surviving on bland foods like bread and crackers to sustain your health because anything else made you feel sicker than you were. The steam feels good against your skin and you dig in right away.

Sunghoon pulls your hair back when it gets close to the rim and holds it for you while you lap up the soup. It seems as though you’re hungrier than you thought because you sit there wordlessly, shoveling liquid into your mouth while Sunghoon watches.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I must look like a zoo animal.”

“You’re sick, Y/N. You have nothing to apologize for. The first meal you can stomach is the best one.” It’s like he gets you. Sunghoon continues to hold your hair back until you’re finished. He washes the bowl and spoon, and puts it back where they belong.

Sunghoon turns around and looks at you under the ambient lighting you and your roommate put up in lieu of the overhead lights. It feels like he’s inspecting you and you try really hard not to think about the fact that you don’t feel presentable in this moment.

“Your apartment feels very you,” Sunghoon says. “I like all of the green furniture and the art on the wall.”

“My roommate picked the decor out but I’m starting to understand why she loves art so much.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks, looking at you. “Would you want to go to an art museum with me?”

“I’d really like that.”

Sunghoon pulls you by the hand to your couch and you try your best not to feel flustered with his touch. He sits you down on the cushion and immediately you feel like you need to be hyper vigilant because he’s looking around the apartment and you’re wondering if he can see the messes you see.

“Do you have a blanket? We could watch some TV. Or I could go. I don’t know.”

“Don’t go.” You say it too quickly but Sunghoon’s shoulders relax. “The blankets are beside the couch.”

He drapes it over you, leaving himself to fend for the cold. Although you’re sure he’s pretty warm, you open up the blanket and invite him to share it with you.

This is new territory. You two have just been talking. But Sunghoon isn’t deterred. He slots himself next to you and doesn’t shy away when he feels your arm pressed against him.

“Sorry for the mess. And for, well…” He watches you gesture to your face, which is undoubtedly red with dark circles underneath your eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. I still like you.”

You aren’t used to him being so upfront like this. He watches you with easy eyes, the kind of feeling that makes you believe what he says. Sunghoon is pretty reserved when it comes to these types of things and you often find yourself being the one to push him towards his bolder side. But even though you feel flustered by his words and underneath his stare, you like this newer side of him.

“I’m such a mess.”

Sunghoon watches you push your forehead into his shoulder in an attempt to hide yourself from him. He smiles at your antics and loves the feeling of your body on his. He’s been hesitant to do things like hold your hand or kiss your cheek in fear or overstepping a boundary. He doesn’t know what came over him when he held your hair back from falling into the hot soup. He knows very well that he could’ve asked where you kept your hair ties, but helping you when he knows you need it felt like the right thing to do.

Now, he wonders if you’re growing bolder with him too. You let your forehead rest against his hoodie as you take deep breaths. He hears you sniffle a few times and nearly coos at the mere thought of you suffering from your sickness. When you pull yourself away from him, the tip of your nose is slightly runny and your eyes look a bit more red than usual.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

He bites his lip. “You could look worse.” You try not to let your cheeks rise in heat.

“You’re just being nice.”

Sunghoon laughs and shakes his head. He could never lie about how he feels towards you. “Nope. You still look really cute.” He watches the gears work inside your head and locates the TV remote when you don’t say anything. “What do you want to watch?”

“I dunno.”

“C’mon, you must’ve been watching TV while you were cooped up here.”

You shake your head. “Migraine, remember? Felt like my eyes were gonna burst.”

This time, he coos out loud. Sunghoon puts on a show you’ve mentioned enjoying in the past and hopes he chose correctly. You seem to be mellowing out and paying attention to the screen in front of you until you start breathing heavily. It’s not until he hears you try to silence a small coughing fit that he shoots up from his seat and pours you a glass of water.

“Here.” Sunghoon doesn’t let you hold the glass. Instead, he beckons your mouth open by placing the rim between your lips and lets you swallow the water, tilting it up until you’ve consumed all of it. He wipes the excess water from the corners of your mouth with his thumb and looks down at you with concern. “Do you have any tea? I can make you some. Hopefully that’ll soothe your throat.”

“Stupid medicine isn’t working,” you grumble. “I might as well perish.”

“Tea, baby,” Sunghoon says, the pet name rolling off his tongue with ease. You almost don’t notice it. “Where do you keep your tea and honey?”

“Cabinet beside the fridge.”

Sunghoon comes back a few minutes later with piping hot chamomile tea with honey. You don’t know how he does it, anticipating your every need and putting just enough honey where it doesn’t feel like you’re stuffing your throat with the sweet nectar. You sip on it slowly as he situates himself back underneath the blanket and keeps his eyes on the television while you try to calm your erratic heartbeat.

Eventually, the episode finished and it’s almost four in the morning when you start to get sleepy. Sunghoon hears you yawning beside him and does his best not to grin like a lovesick idiot when you push your body against his in an attempt to get comfortable. You’re holding the empty cup loosely in your hands when your eyes start to droop and as much as Sunghoon would love to stay like this, he knows it’ll be better for you to sleep in your own bed with your back against the mattress.

“Baby,” Sunghoon whispers. He grabs the mug from your hands and sets it on the coffee table. “I think you should sleep in your bed. You’ll feel a lot better when you wake up.”

“But you’re so warm.”

He bites back a smile. “Thank you, but you’re gonna wake up with back pain and I know you’ll be mad that you didn’t sleep with pillows.”

He’s right and you know it but that doesn’t stop you from letting a whine slip past. Sunghoon doesn’t complain when you lean on him for support (or rather, you push your full weight onto him because you cannot be bothered with physical tasks at this late hour). Instead, he holds your waist with his arm and guides you into your bedroom from his memory of coming here a couple times before now.

Despite this, he’s never been inside your room. You’ve always kept the door closed but as he opens it, Sunghoon completely melts at how your bedroom is so utterly you. The dark green comforter hugs your queen-sized bed and a mountain of pillows cover the top near the bed frame. Your desk is an organized mess of notebooks, pens, and highlighters you carry with you during study sessions. Photographs in pretty frames decorate your walls along with posters of your favorite music and films.

He spots a picture of the two of you from that day at the amusement park when Heeseung insisted on taking a photo since the lighting was “perfect.” Sunghoon suspected that wasn’t the case but let him take it anyhow. He always considered that to be his first official memory with you. Knowing you might feel the same makes Sunghoon’s heart flutter.

“Let’s get you into bed, yeah?”

His soft touches make you fall much deeper into your tiredness. The mattress below you feels too good to be true as Sunghoon opens the blankets for you to crawl underneath. He watches you carefully as you scoot to one side and make yourself comfortable, wondering if you’re enjoying the side of him that wants to pamper you.

When you’re all tucked in with the blankets underneath your chin, Sunghoon can’t help but lean down and brush a few stray hair strands from your face. He caresses your cheek and holds himself back despite your lips being right in front of him. Instead, he settles for rubbing your soft cheek with his thumb before leaving.

Except, you reach out and grab onto his wrist. “Where are you going?”

His looks back at you in the dim light. “Home, baby. I’ll let you sleep.”

The pout you’re wearing is tearing him limb from limb. “I don’t want you to go home.”

“No?”

You shake your head. “Please…I haven’t seen you at all this week.” Sunghoon hears the strain in your voice and he isn’t sure if you’re awake enough to know what you’re saying. “I-I just want you here with me.”

How could he say no to that?

Sunghoon sits on the empty side of the bed and lets you guide your hand in his bigger one. He watches as you shake your head and he’s about to ask what you mean when you open the blanket.

He feels momentarily guilty when he pulls his hand away from you because he hears you whine again, but he slips off his hoodie to avoid overheating. He’s left in his sweatpants and a loose shirt when sliding into your bed right next to you.

You waste no time and attach yourself to Sunghoon, pushing your body until you’re resting on his chest. He does his best not to let his heartbeat give him away. This is the most he’s ever touched you. At best, he’d brush his hand against yours and waited for the right time to hold it. Today feels like he’s thrown caution into the wind.

Sunghoon puts his glasses on your night table and pulls you close to him, encircling his arms until he finds a comfortable position. Your warm breaths litter his skin and he feels like he could run laps with how happy he is in this moment. You look so cute with your body limp against his. He loves that you’re not hesitant around him anymore and hopes you know just how much he wants you close to him.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Sunghoon says in the dark, unsure if you’re still awake or not.

“What’s your secret?”

Your eyes remain closed, eyelashes covering your beautiful eyes and your cheeks are squished into a pout against his chest. He looks down at you like you’re precious cargo and a rare gem he never wants to let go of.

“I really want to kiss you.”

You don’t say anything. Instead, Sunghoon feels you move your head until you press a kiss against his chest, allowing your lips to linger for a few seconds before reverting back to your original position.

“Kiss me tomorrow.”

Sunghoon hears you snoring soon after.

“Yeah,” he whispers to himself. “I can do that.”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[omnitrash]

Idk if it's okay to send asks, if it's not then please feel free to ignore this but OH MY GOD YOUR SELF AWARE DMC WRITING WAS SO GOOD!!! Self aware DMC characters, my beloved!! Your writing scratched my brain just right, it was Everything! Also, Consider, self aware V and Urizen! V remembers you from Vergil's memories and Urizen doesn't have as many memories but recognizes your voice the most (especially the excited cheering and noises of panic during boss battles) it's a thought that came into my head with your writing but anyway! Just wanted to say I very much enjoyed what you made!

UM HI??? HELLO HI I HOPE YOURE DOING WELL ANON! IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT!!AND ITS TOTALLY FINE!! Feel free to send asks and I’ll try my best to answer!

AND I LOVE THAT?? Okay lemme cook-

Idk how to tag stuff so consider this like, uhhh crack scenarios but also with some more lore and more serious scenarios…idk how to explain, I’m so sorry-

Oh! Okay, shit post. It’s mostly more like two mini oneshots and one mini shit post. Though it is a bit suggestive…I got too self indulgent again-

Also there might be grammar mistakes!! English isn’t my first language so do let me know if there’s anything I could work on or if you have any other ideas! Enjoy!!

(Ps- *Enitharmon is another character from William Blake’s stories so I thought I’d use it as V’s way to address the player since the character herself is meant to suggest “harmony”. Something V associates the player with.

And thank you @lovelylixie for adding on to the time difference between the cast and player!!)

‘_’ -thoughts

“-“ -dialogue

—————————————

Self Aware Dmc! - V and Urizen drabbles

Y’know? When you first started the fifth game in their franchise, they had a feeling you already had some idea of what was going on. Based on your reactions and your faint mutters and exclamations every now and then, they could only assume -and conclude- that you were ‘spoiled’ by some friend of yours who also happened to play the games. Not they cared of them. It’s you who they cared about the most.

Right now, they could only sigh internally as you struggled to fight Urizen the first time in the prologue…there you go again, panicking over a boss fight…though it was expected, knowing you. Fighting the power obsessed demon right of the bat with no context definitely shook you up -with Nero dealing with the worst part of your confusion and panic…it’s glad to have it back though. It’s been a while since they heard from you…though they knew it hadn’t been as long as it had been for them to you-

But what they hadn’t anticipated was Urizen’s interest in you. Sure, they knew V would eventually hop on to their…fixation on you but Urizen…? That could be a problem. He’s a dangerous demon, he could harm you -sweet, defenseless, you. They couldn’t let that happen. All the more reason to shoo Nero and V away from the scene so you could continue playing.

You gasped as everyone got blown away by the massive demon, still shaken up and confused by the sudden boss fight. But Urizen…he was interested. He had a feeling, this nagging thorn in the back of his head that…this person that was controlling that pest Nero…was familiar. He just didn’t know why…

He watched as you protested against Dante’s decision to leave -and even defending that brat after he was called a deadweight. “Oh c’mon- was that even necessary?! That’s so mean!” the demon heard you sulk- and he’d see you again. And again. And again. Coming back for rematch -and surprisingly improving each time…you were…resilient, for a mere human, he’d admit that much -after rematch with both that pesky one-armed boy and his annoying little brother.

By the time you reached Mission 17, you’d fight him one last time. Seeing Dante come up to the demon and try to get a reaction out of him. Memories? Where it all began? He had no recollection of such thing. And it mattered not, for he already had the Qlipoth fruit in his grasp. All he wanted…was answers.

He turned to the demon hunter after eating the demonic fruit, his many eyes glancing in your general direction before looking down at his brother.

“Who are they? The person sitting on that bed…controlling you and those pests? Why do they seem…familiar?” He inquired, breaking the games’ code and script. He was powerful enough to do so, so why bother beating around the bush?

Dante on the other hand, wasn’t so thrilled. If Urizen was powerful enough to alter the course of this game…he had to do something. Before you started growing suspicious or worse. Got hurt. He wouldn’t allow it.

He quickly fixed the dialogue the moment he heard his corrupted brother spoke out of script, making it so that you’d hear the original lines from both of them while he talked to Urizen.

“Woah there, Verge! You gotta stay on script there buddy! Can’t have the little sweetheart wondering why the game’s acting up, now can we?” He laughed it off, masking his animosity and concern.

“Why should I? They are…an anomaly I can’t quite understand. While I may not have recollection of our time together, I do know them…they…are rather weak, are they not?” The demon spoke again, just faintly recalling your panicked reactions in battle…but also your determination and focus to win. “Weak yet strong…intelligent, and determined…to adapt to my power so quickly in battle. Perhaps that is why I have an inkling of them in my mind…”

“Yeah? Well don’t dwell too much on ‘em. Your main opponent is me, remember?” Dante rolled his eyes, quickly getting into stance as the fight slowly started to commence. Already feeling your control seep in…he could only hope he’d keep you safe. He had to…that just made him all the more motivated to go all out. Perhaps he could tweak the fight to his favor…for your sake, of course.

Urizen only grew more intrigued. If his brother was so adamant in protecting you, you must be more important than he believed. He could see your influence, your control slowly enveloping his brother once more…like a quiet yet protective aura surrounding him…Interesting. So be it…

“Fine then…l guess I’ll have to drag the answers out of them directly once I am victorious..” The demon sighed, preparing for your final fight against him

V, on the other hand, knew who you were from the get go. His dearest *Enitharmon. He loved to hear your voice…god, he loved it. He was the more blessed out of the two halves of Vergil. Having received the memories of you, the care you put towards to the older son of Sparda and now to him…it was exhilarating.

He knew you were fond of his familiars too. Often hearing you coo over Shadow and laugh at Griffon’s remarks. Something that would make the panther purr quietly and the bird puff out its feathers with pride…attention whores-

Ahem…in any case, he could only watch with pride as you enjoyed exploring and fighting with him. Joyful that you enjoyed his familiars so much and that you seemed to do so well with them. He was your first SSS style in this game after all. Take that, Nero-

“So close, though, so close. You got a lot of heart, kid, you really do, but you're a bit of a sissy in the strength department. Hey, hey, no offense, uh, you know.” They heard you burst out laughing at that, borderline wheezing a bit at the snarky avian demon’s remark.

“God, I fucking love Griffon. Jesus Christ-“ They heard you sigh, the comment only serving to make the bird huff quietly to himself, his feathers puffing out pridefully as Shadow and V shared an exasperated glance.

As the story progressed though, they could feel your growing concern for them. To V’s debilitated state, or when they had encountered Malphas and got separated. They hated hearing you fawn over Nero when he stepped in…you sounded so flustered and giddy. V was right there, wasn’t he enough?

By the time he and Nero caught up with Dante, he was almost gone…he had to get to Urizen. Quickly.

It’s funny though. Remember how they had a feeling you knew about the game’s plot? This was one of those moments. As he approached the defeated demon, he could feel you growing suspicious. As if you knew his plan…it made him smirk faintly to himself as he got closer to his other half.

“…wait a sec…wait, is he-..? Oh shit, wait, no no no, Dante! Hey! Don’t let him get to close! Nero?! Dante?! C’mon, do something!!” He heard you warn them…how adorably naive. It’s not like it would’ve worked, y’know? Even if they reacted ahead of time before they were supposed to, all would go to plan. In his favor…it’s only a matter of time before he was restored.

“You wish for answers, do you not…? Do not worry…I shall give them to you soon enough” He told his other half quietly, inaudible enough so that it would bypass the game’s code.

As your warnings reached the other two’s ears, it was already too late to act. V had already impaled his cane into Urizen’s chest. A bright beam of light emerging and shaking the demonic tree’s core as the transformation begun.

…It was fun while it lasted. If anything V wished he could’ve thanked you personally for the time you two spend together. Alas, his time was over…right now…it was time for the Alpha and Omega to make his appearance.

‘…I’m back…my dearest angel’

————————————————————————-

Something that echoed through Vergil’s mind as he waited for Dante’s arrival on top of the demonic tree was…an earlier comment you had made while he was still split in two. During one of your many fights against who you called Urizen, you said something that now left him…uncertain of himself.

~Flashback!~

You watched as Trish and Lady got enveloped by the back tendrils…tentacles, whatever- tilting your head to the side as your face scrunched up in a puzzled manner.

“…so like…if this Urizen guy is technically a part of Vergil or whatever…does that mean he has a tentacle fetish or what? Because what is this?” You spoke up before letting out a wheeze, covering your mouth to laugh. Not being able to help yourself from making a reference from the previous game. “What the hell is this??? Type shit- hahaha!”

…you really made it difficult for them not to break character, y’know that? It took all they had not start laughing. Even Urizen squinted his eyes in confusion. What did the little human even mean by this? A fetish? It was only the form he was manifested in, nothing more and nothing less.

~Flashback end!~

“…unbelievable” Vergil grumbled, shaking his head in exasperation and slight embarrassment at the memory…though now that he dwelled on it.

Perhaps that wasn’t so far off. Seeing you tied up in his control wouldn’t be so bad…struggling to break free as you squirmed under the appendages’ touch. Eyes wide and pleading with what he could only imagine would be a mix of embarrassment and need for something…he knew you were such a shy little angel after all. You’d never bring yourself to beg outright unless coerced, he’s sure of it…what would you beg for though? To make them go faster?…or maybe for him to take over instead-

…okay. Maybe he did have a tentacle fetish-

“God fucking damn it-“

“Yo Vergil! Your portal opening days are over!…Give me the Yamato” He heard Dante speak from behind him

…and in that moment, Vergil’s never been so happy to hear his brother in his life

[aajjks]

FUCK! (III)

synopsis. You hated your roommate but he had the biggest crush on you, fuck.

pairing: fboy!jk x fem!reader

genre: f2l, e2l, roommates au, fboy au (wow so many cliches), comedy au, mature themes, bad language, sex jokes.

warnings. mâtürè thèmês, jèälöüs koo, dïrty thöughts, ëxplïcït jökès, yn ïs ä säd gïrlïe, sünshïnê koo, #nô fïltèr kôôk, hörny kóó, hè ïs öbsëssèd wïth yöur tïts.

disclaimer. this is purely fictional and this doesn’t represent bts’ jungkook irl. mature themes 18+ content ahead. mdni. ps. this jungkook thinks w his dick 👍

series masterlist.

note. hi, share feedback plz, send asks because they keep me really motivated <333 ENJOY! And I’m so sorry that I’m so late with the update. I hope you haven’t forgotten about the story and if you have, please reread because I know you’re going to enjoy this. Thank you so much.

Honestly, you’re really strong.

You’ve been having a lot of bad dates and stupid, awkward encounters with your ex, Kyungsoo.

But thankfully, who is there for you? Your dear Jungkook. Your roommate who has been with you for quite some time now and it’s safe to say that you’ve gotten a lot of used to his presence, and his stupid jokes.

It’s a new day and you feel a little less depressed as compared to the last week, the sun is out and you feel really hot— literally because the weather is getting warmer and warmer.

Jungkook is sitting on the couch watching football, he’s kind of obsessed with it and he’s always screaming at the screen like a maniac, “WHAT THE FUCK?!!?! YN DID YOU SEE THIS?”

Your ears hurt.

He’s probably talking about some goal that you’re not interested in, How can you be when you’re actually really concerned about your love life these days, you and kyungsoo broke up up quite some time ago and you’ve been struggling with dating.

You’re definitely over him, so what is the problem? You don’t know when that’s frustrating you.

“shut up- you’re too loud.” You snap, closing your eyes and frustration because it’s way too early in the morning, you are definitely a night owl, and he’s quite literally sunshine.

Jungkook eyes are focused on you now, “Woah you need to get laid- I’m volunteering if you care.” His stupid remark has you glaring at him and he just laughs it off, he winks at you in return. And just after that he has started to shamelessly stare at your chest.

He’s not wrong- you do need to get laid.

And Yeah, you’re wearing a top so what? It’s really hot.

“you’re so hot.” Jungkook breathes out. You can see his eyes, and his pupils are quite bright. He’s got pretty eyes. He’s really pretty. Not that you would say that to his face because he will eat your brain that you complimented him and that you want to fuck him.

You don’t.

Well, you’re not sure.

“I know tell me something I don’t know, and stop staring at my tits- they don’t talk.” You scold him, but his gaze just doesn’t budge, you’re so used to him that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable.

You just roll your eyes at him. “Bet I can make them..” Your gaze hardens and you pick up a pillow from your couch and hit him with it.

He’s so shameless.

Jungkook pretends to be hurt, whining that you hit him hard. What a manchild, “quit it Jeon.” You warn him and he smirks. “And if I don’t? You’re going to punish me?! Please do.” He begs.

You scoff in disgust, but just then you get an idea- you’re going to mess with him. It’s your turn to smirk as you look at him in the eyes once again. “you’re walking on thin ice and you say that you want me to give you a chance, but… not sure if I should because you are a creep.” You shrug and it’s so satisfying the way his expressions change from smug to anxious.

You got him.

VICTORY.

“what are you talking about? I’m not a creep. And I…I please give me one chance all right I’ll stop my remarks.” he is struggling like an idiot. It’s is really nice to be in control.

“respectfully you just have nice breasts.” he shrugs, but you can tell he’s still panicking about what you just said. He ain’t wrong though you got nice breasts but it’s not nice to stare at them.

“Shut up- THIN ICE.”

You warn him, and he puts a finger on his mouth- his doe eyes are literally so panicky, “ugh I have work..” you whine- and Jungkook has started to focus on the game once again, “hey?! You have work too!!!? get up!”

“Yeah no. I won’t get scolded if I’m a little late because my boss kind of likes me.” He laughs.

What a fuckboy.

“you fuck your boss?!!” You know that’s not what he said or implied but you’re so curious, “uh no? Yn you’re mean!” he looks back at you acting so offended.

“whatever— before I go and change? I think you can take me out on a date I’m giving you a chance.”

You get up before he can even give you a reaction because you know he’s gonna freak out and your prediction is confirmed when you can hear him screaming like an idiot.

You smile as you go back to your room to get ready for work, it wouldn’t be a mistake to give him a chance because he obviously likes you and— he’s been asking you out forever, so why not?

But you’re not sure if you are gonna work out as a couple because he’s too much sometimes, But you’re still going to give him one chance to prove himself.

“YN I LOVE YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH. OH MY GOD YOU’RE NOT GONNA BE DISAPPOINTED. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. I WILL TEXT YOU ALL THE DETAILS.”

You giggle as you shut the door behind you.

Sure.

He’s still having those wet dreams about you, it’s a struggle for him and he’s concerned because he’s never felt this way for anyone, and it’s just not the wet dreams.

His feelings for you are the main problem.

He annoys the fuck out of you and your both sitting in the couch, he’s pretending to watch football, but it’s hard for him to focus when you’re right next to him smelling like a goddess, and that top of yours?

It’s torture.

Jungkook gets distracted for a minute when his favorite team scores a goal and he screams, he knows that you get annoyed with him and he does that but it’s so fun to get these reactions out of you.

He loves it when you tell him to shut up. And yeah it’s not your fault that you’re so hot because it’s really warm, you just have to make everything look so good.

He looks at you for a minute, and then his gaze just automatically goes to your chest.

You are quite magnificent.

“You’re so hot.” he can’t help but compliment you when you just shrugged and say that you know.

Your confidence is so hot, Jungkook tries his best to be subtle with his lust and attraction towards you, but sometimes it’s just impossible for his tongue to not slip.

He says some things that get you angry.

You hit him with a couch pillow, and he Reacts dramatically, he was just kidding about that one joke. “Ugh.” He whines.

And just like that you guys banter for a while, that isn’t until he fucks it up a little bit more, and you warn him

No, he cannot lose his chance with you.

“I…I please give me one chance. All right, I’ll stop with my remarks.” He is so stupid. Why can’t he keep his hormones and tongue in check?

He doesn’t want you to think that it’s only because he’s physically attracted to you, it’s more than that, yeah, he dreams about fucking you but he also dreams about being with you forever.

That’s how much he likes you.

So please just give him one chance— he thinks to himself when you bring up work and he knows that yeah he has to go to work, but his boss is quite lenient and the pay is really good.

He is watching the game once again when you accuse him of fucking his boss, he does not do that— Jungkook feels a little bad, because that’s all you think of him?

“uh no I don’t- Yn you’re mean!” he looks at you and this time your breasts don’t distract him, he wants you to think of him as a man that is of commitment, but he has a lot to prove.

He has really fucked up his chances—? He feels his heart break as negative thoughts consume him, and he cannot even log into your eyes anymore.

You get up, probably get ready for work because you take everything in your life or seriously and you’re Punctual.

You’re so perfect for him

But maybe it looks like he’s not perfect for you. And that sucks, Should he just give up on you? He’s not sure.

“whatever— before I go and change? I think you can take me out on a date I’m giving you a chance.”

Did he just hear you right? Did you really just say you don’t give him a chance? And then he can take you out on a date

He tilts his head so fast, absolutely freaked out, his eyes are white, and his mouth is agape,

He’s not being delusional right now, is he?

“Y-Yn what did you just say?

He stutters out because he really cannot believe what you just said right now, have you hit your head or something because he’s asked you the same question for the past year but you have denied him, so why the sudden change?

He feels so happy right now- jungkook gets up from the couch and goes after you, but before he can catch you, so we can confirm what he just heard you giggle.

“YN I LOVE YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH. OH MY GOD YOU’RE NOT GONNA BE DISAPPOINTED. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. I WILL TEXT YOU ALL THE DETAILS.” Before you can actually shut the door he says it out loud.

and you shut the door behind you.

[dilf-docs]

Champagne Symphony, Caviar Dreams

harry castillo x younger fem!reader

summary: you keep finding harry in these events. how long until someone gives in?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, (eventual) smut, foes to hoes, (one sided) enemies to lovers, angst, rich ppl (yes that's a warning), slowburn, reader may be a bit of a cunt (sorry if this x reader fic is mischaracterizing u), ft. dbf!harry (love this trope so much and had to squeeze it in, my bad)

word count: 1,815 words

side note: hi hello thank u for ur support my citizens!!!!!!! i hope you enjoy this random update even if the fandom is currently in shambles bc of tlou 2 and joel miller sexy old man with glasses atm,, just hi i'm the problem it's me late to the function as per usual. ps. if u want to be added to the taglist just lmk :) <3

part: prev | masterlist | next

The click of black shoes against wooden floors startles you.

"A White Russian, for the lady"

Before you get to ask, the waiter is gone. Rachel arches and eyebrow.

"If this was a bar, I'd be flattered. Right now, I'm just confused"

Your eyes search his in the bustling room, only to find him already staring.

You scoff. "That makes us two, then"

You raise your glass, wearing a daring smile. Drink for over ten seconds, holding his gaze across the room. If he wanted to play, so be it; didn't matter it was your father's birthday.

His eyes shine, amused. Harry Castillo likes to think he knows when a woman is looking for trouble. The faintest of a smile tugs at his lips when you lick yours. He's coming over. You're up to no good when you stare up, saying his name like a pebble on your shoe.

"I hope I guessed it right" it's what he says instead.

You finish what's left in one gulp. "Nothing too special about it"

He grimaces.

"Hello, Harry"

"Hello, Rachel" but he doesn't even bother to look her way, so unlike his manners.

"Dance with me"

As sudden as the shiver that runs down the spine. Rachel gives you a quizzical look when you turn her way for support.

"Alright"

The music is soft, an instrumental. Your dad hired an orquestra to play, the mellow sound of music filling the room he had rented, in the outskirts of the city. Annabelle wanted a DJ, said it was more modern. But your dad was always a classical man, and that was her way of calling him old, one of many. At least, she was older than you.

He guides you, hand on your back.

Somewhere along the sway, your steps get lost in the spaces between the chords of the violin.

"Why?"

You liked knowing. Answers.

"Because the music is nice" yet Harry preferred the unspoken of your relationship, if you could call it that. Strangers who knew too much about the other. Who revelled in the others' falter. Like a contest to win; you've yet decided the prize. "Don't you think?"

"My father likes nice"

Harry smirks.

"Cheers to David" he gives you a little spin, word reduced to a blur. It's just you and him, "and nice things"

You feel his body irradiate heat. Close proximity suffocating.

"We can't have nice things"

Harry shakes his head, something akin to disappointment circling in his brown eyes.

"Only if you allow yourself to"

Rage bubbles up your throat like champagne. This isn't like your father, who makes you feel small. Harry Castillo makes you feel seen, and that's worst.

He steps forward and you step back at the sound of the music.

"What do you want?"

His grip in your hands tightens, and then he drops you, but his hand on your back stays firm. It's like this with him: always on edge but never quite falling. Head centimeters above the floor, hair brushing the wooden floors; almost crushing.

You lose yourself in the white of his smile.

"To dance"

He pulls you up, face so close to yours. A faint smell of whiskey ghosts his breath.

"I think we're talking about different things"

He smiles, sadly so. He too pulls back, and you hate that small voice in your head that misses the proximity.

"You have yet to understand we aren't"

Anger rises again. You let go of his hands.

"Do you think it's funny to go around confusing people?" you spit.

He looks at you, stern gaze as the music stops.

"I've been clear since the first day"

People clap and the music resumes, but all you hear is the beat of your heart, ringing in your ears.

He leaves first.

Harry doesn't know when it started, but he knows the moment he knew.

You were late, sat next to him: with your long hair and tight black dress. Narrowed eyes as sharp as your fresh manicure. Judgmental. Appalled. Fresh out of law school, as David said.

It was during his fourth. Lasted less than a year; Harry can't remember her name.

He heard your venomous spit at his side: I hate weddings. Doesn't know if you were talking to him but listened.

How could he not? It was clear, in the way you reminded everyone what kind of lawyer you were. Jokes too rough, clipped laughs yet you didn't falter. Too obvious, refusal to be pictured in the family portrait when David married Annabelle the next winter.

But Harry too saw when you followed the bride with your gaze, something raw, not practiced nor learnt, imprisioned behind a neutral expression in your eyes.

It was summer when the wedding happened but Harry was drawn to your cold. The way you had mastered the common art to shove down any emotion, because to feel was to be human.

And to be human was to be weak. You loathed being weak.

Which is why, when you turned to him and mumbled a polite Excuse me to walk out during your father's vows, he understood.

There were dying stars in the dark scope of your eyes, begging to be pulled out of their slow death, pulsing with the same moribund sound of your heart. Hiding behind the sharp comfort of knowing no one would notice. A latent desire to be seen betraying the arm's length drive to keep people away.

Harry was one of those people. The type to notice the quiet breaths of the world that reminded of the painful experience it was to be alive.

And in that moment, he knew there was more to the carefully crafted you.

It was easy then, to figure you. To unravel the mystery of the one he had made to be impossible to decode.

You drank and mingled with the crowd, but each sip seemed labored, like you'd wish for it to be poison and kill you. You were focused, loved your career, but when the noise of the court died down, all that was left was mourning, even if he couldn't quite place your grief. You were all disdain and apathy, but hidden among your clipped conversations was the ravenous desire for attention.

Behind every fake smile and mascara layers, Harry saw the corners of your mouth twitch and the tired eyes.

It was there: the little girl he met, hiding behind mother's legs as if you took a step forward, the world would swallow you.

She was gone, and you had changed your approach: now you were to eat the world as revenge.

You could lie to everyone, yourself even, but Harry knew.

He wasn't a patient man, yet for you? He could wait.

Wait until you let him in. Until you take the hand he's been extending your way, hoping you'd take the leap and jump.

"Should I always chase for you?" Harry jokes after finding you. "Either you love running away or have a thing for balconies"

"Nobody obligues you" you turn to face him.

Harry couldn't voice out loud nor explain the pull he felt towards you. Like magnets. Moth to a flame; things meant to happen. Things that are unavoidable. Or just how easy it was to fall into your orbit. You were a black hole sun: burning and consuming.

"You dipped"

You dipped my head so close to the floor I thought I was falling. Dipped after making my skin feel like a burden and not the one I live in.

He's taken back by your barely concealed reproach.

"Would've you want me to stay?"

Life is a game, and you hate how he's the only one who makes you lose.

You scoff. "Bet that's what you would've wanted"

"You still haven't answered"

You rub your nose. "Is it so important for you that I do?"

For the first time, he doesn't know what to say.

"I'm not here to please you"

He smirks. "Do you ever aim to please anyone but yourself?"

"Are you calling me egotistical?"

"I'm not one to throw stones" he shrugs, then makes his way towards you.

"That's all I feel you do"

He let's his body rest against the marble of today's selected balcony.

"Are you accusing me of being disparaging?"

"I guess we're just throwing big words around" you laugh, dryly.

Harry exhales loudly. "Do you want me to go?"

Stay.

"It's fine" you shrug, nonchalant.

Some minutes fly by, the soft orchestral music from inside the only sound to be heard in the aphony.

"How long do you think this'll last?"

He turns to you, but before he asks for clarification, you're speaking again:

"Dad and Annabelle"

"You shouldn't be betting on your old man" he berates, but there's no bite in his words.

"It always ends"

He doesn't like the finality in your tone. Like you knew it all.

"At least you'll never run out of'a job"

"You're not going to correct me?" you snort at his attempt to humor you. "Tell me that love is real or some shit?"

Harry gives you a knowing smirk.

"Has it ever worked before?"

You don't quite smile, but your lips press together.

The music comes to a stop, people clapping and then a microphone turning on. It's your father's voice.

"Guess it's coming to an end"

Now it's his turn to speak. "Like everything else"

You're about to walk inside when he speaks.

"What about our dance?"

Your turn around. A soft breeze passes by.

"What?"

He gives you a half smile. "It hasn't finished"

Harry extends his hand towards you, waiting for you to take it.

"Shall we?"

You don't have the answer, but when the warmth of his hand covers your freezing smaller ones, you feel you've chosen the right one.

His steps are measured, each brush of your fingers and lingering touch deliberate. You lose yourself in the quiet of the night, the symphony of his heartbeat intertwined with yours, alike to that connection that holds your hands together.

"This is nice"

Outloud. You don't realize it's been you who has said it until he stops dancing, lips parted as he looks at you.

"Y/n-"

The brittle vulnerability is fleeting, like the laughs at your father's drunken speech. It comes and goes, the sound drowning each time you look at his eyes.

All words are futile devices. You're the one who knows such thing best.

"Don't"

Don't speak.

Don't ruin this.

Don't make me think of questions I'm too afraid to hear the answers.

"Okay" he coincides. "We won't"

We won't talk.

We won't ruin this.

We won't think about what this is and what it means.

But all the forbidden is lost when his touch and perfume stay in your skin even as you sink down on your lavender sheets and the feeling of knowing something you hadn't before remains.

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas / 🏷: @io12n @dowscal @oscar-isaac @joelscowgirl @jxvipike @klarkapascal @lostinmyownmaze @folklore-barnes @alinacecee @sukitruqui @youusunshineyoutemptress @hermionelove @noisynightmarepoetry @ann-gell (comment if u wanna be tagged!)

[morbidlcve]

heloooo can u do a beefy!natasha x fem reader where nat is getting overprotective whenever R is just roaming around the compound wearing nothing but an oversized shirt.. fluff with smut? hehe thank uu!!!

- 🤸🏻

ps: thank you for writing nat fics!!! pls do moree and goodluck on your studiess

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ shirt

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ wc: 0.8k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairings: beefy!natasha romanoff x reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ content: fingering, nipple play, kitchen sex, pet names, marking, if there's any more please let me know!!

requests are open!!

Natasha walks into the kitchen, finding you in one of her oversized shirts that barely covers your thighs. She watches hungrily as you bend over to grab something from the oven, her protective instincts kicking in. “Hey baby.” She walks up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. “I like those thighs in my shirt.” She presses a kiss to your neck, her hands squeezing your hips possessively. “You look fucking delicious like this... I like when you walk around the house wearing just my shirt.” You blush looking at her shirt drowning your body. Her hands slowly slide up your thighs. “But I have a problem with it too.” 

“You see, every fucking Avenger walks around here. What if Bucky gets hard looking at your legs? Or Steve gets ideas watching your ass swing in my shirt?” Her hands squeeze your ass cheeks through the shirt. “I don't like sharing what's mine.” She presses a kiss behind your ear. “Come here.” She says turning you around to face her, her hands moving to your bottom as she lifts you up onto the kitchen counter. She steps between your legs, pushing them apart so she can stand there possessively. “See? Now no one gets a free show of my girlfriend's ass.” She smirks, fucking smirks. 

“Tasha, they already know I'm yours.” you smile, wrapping your arms around her neck. “Still, I like you like this... Trapped between my legs, wearing my shirt, giving me easy access.” She presses kisses down your neck and collarbone, her hands squeezing your breasts through the shirt. “I'm gonna fuck you right here on this counter, baby. Hard and fast like I like it.” 

“Natasha Romanoff, someone could walk in at any minute… your sister could walk in at any minute” you gasp as she pinches your nipples. She grabs your hair firmly, pulling your head forward slightly to whisper in your ear. “Then you better be quiet, sweetheart.” Her hand moves under your shirt. “Show me that pretty pussy baby.” She groans, you’re not wearing any underwear. “Such a little slut aren’t you, anyone could’ve seen you bent over, seen how wet you are” she grunts, gliding her hand down your body to push her fingers through your folds. Your hips buck when she catches your clit. Smirking, she leans forward taking one of your nipples into your mouth. “God Nat!” you sigh, gripping her hair, holding her close to you.

She licks and sucks at your nipple, pulling away slightly, leaving a trail of saliva behind her. She kisses you roughly, her tongue pressing into your mouth. Her wet muscle working in tandem with yours. “Fuck, you’re so sexy baby.” she says coming back to your chest, attaching her mouth to your other nipple. 

Your head throws back when she pushes her finger into you. “God, you drive me crazy” she says pressing her lips to your neck, sucking a bruise into your flesh. She’s all over you, curling her fingers just right that has your back arching, pressing yourself further against her. “You’re wearing too many clothes” you gasp, trying to take off her jacket. She chuckles at your feeble attempt, prying your hands away and shrugs it off and takes off her shirt. You’re quick to press your lips to her chest, sucking and licking at her nipples and the sensitive areas of her throat. “Fuck baby.” She sighs, pressing her body protectively over you. 

You clench around her fingers at the thought of the sight of you two, mainly just Natasha though. You just know that if you were to be watching right now, the muscles of her back would be flexing as she works her fingers in your pussy. “Feels so good Nat,” You cry out, teeth scraping her neck. “I know baby,” She sighs. 

She starts to increase her pace, pressing her thumb to your clit for added stimulation. “Fuck!” you cry out. She grunts watching you with your head thrown back, back arched- all for her. She’s quick to press her lips to yours, devouring the sweet sounds you’re making for her. “That’s it baby, fuck yourself on my fingers.” She pants into your mouth, utterly transfixed by you. Your body starts to move on its own accord, your hips bucking to get her deeper within you. You cry out when she grazes that sweet spot within you. “Yeah? You like that?” she smirks, repeating the motion. You feel your high quickly approaching, your muscles rippling with pleasure. 

The buzz within you shatters when she licks the length of your neck and sucks harshly, marking you. She watches you with a smirk of satisfaction on her face, the only words spilling from your lips being her name and choruses of ‘yes’. She keeps going until your orgasm subsides. Slightly shaking, she pulls her fingers out of you. You gasp at the slight sensitivity. Natahsa brings her fingers to her mouth, tasting you, groaning. “You are definitely getting some, let’s go” You sigh giggling at her rampant attempt to put her shirt back on.

[luvleyshif4]

HEART TO HEART

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: bf!Rafe and gf!Reader moved in together, bf!Rafe helps gf!Reader when it’s her first time using a laptop..

Content: Close proximity, use of the word ‘baby’, moving in together, reader and Rafe are in a live-in relationship

Words: 1.19k words

Authors Note: heyyy so this is a small Drabble I made after I saw a cute reel of a couple. I feel like most my ideas come from reels or TikTok’s of couples😭 but it’s alright cause they always end up being so cute.. HOPE YALL LIKE IT💗💗

(PS I finally figured out how to get gradient text>_<)

Rafe and you had been together for a while now—long enough that the idea of moving in together didn’t feel like a leap but more like a natural progression of your love. You’d both talked about it endlessly, debating everything from rent to how much space you’d need for your things. It wasn’t practical, it wasn’t sensible, but neither of you cared. What mattered was that you couldn’t imagine life without the other. It was stupid, really, but you were both too in love to think about anything else.

It had been a whirlwind of decisions, and in the middle of it all, you had found yourself staring at the laptop you’d been saving for months to buy. It was your first real splurge. Every dollar you’d worked for, every late-night shift, had been towards this moment. You were excited, but you had been hesitant too. It was an investment, an expensive investment at that.

When you finally went to purchase the laptop, Rafe had insisted on helping you out. You tried to resist, explaining that you had saved up for this moment and that you wanted to do it on your own. But Rafe had insisted on paying for half, knowing you’d have to save for more important things soon. Though you were reluctant, you finally gave in, realizing he was right.

Unpacking the boxes in your new condo took longer than expected. Your place was still a bit empty, yet there was an excitement in the air that you couldn’t shake. It wasn’t much yet—just you sitting at the kitchen island, surrounded by scattered boxes. It was cozy in its own way, the space slowly starting to feel like home. You’d claimed the spot on the island chairs by the window overlooking the sea as your own because of the view. The large windows gave you a perfect view of the sea, making it a peaceful place to unwind and relax.

You sat on the chair, legs crossed, finally opening your new laptop. The smooth surface of the keyboard and the glow of the screen felt like a reward for all the hard work that had led to this moment. You clicked a few things, feeling the thrill of something new and shiny. Everything was good. But then, you hit a snag.

The cursor wouldn’t move in the way you wanted it to, and no matter how many times you tried, the issue remained.

You frowned at the screen, clicking at random, but the problem persisted. You leaned back slightly, pushing a hand through your hair as you stared at the screen.

You were determined not to ask for help, convinced that if you tried hard enough, you could figure this out. But the minutes dragged on, and you began to feel the frustration creeping in. It was one of those little things that seemed simple but just wouldn’t budge.

Rafe was across the room, setting up the TV in the living area. Your eyes briefly lingered on him—how focused he looked, how comfortable in his element. You let out a quiet sigh and glanced back at your laptop, trying to work out the problem on your own for a few more minutes. But your fingers hovered over the trackpad, unsure of what to do next.

You shifted in your stool, your patience wearing thin. You couldn’t let yourself keep wasting time on something that was so simple to solve, but you couldn’t quite figure it out. You sighed, calling out, “Rafe? Can you come over for a second?”

He turned from his spot in the living room and immediately walked over. He paused when he reached you, his voice gentle, a slight concern on his face. “What’s wrong, baby?”

You didn’t look up, just pointed at the screen and said, “The cursor’s glitching. I’ve tried everything, but it won’t move right.”

Rafe leaned down slightly, standing beside you. His hand came to rest lightly on your back, rubbing gently. His attention flicked between you and the laptop, but his gaze lingered on you more than anything. He took in your expression—slightly exasperated, but with that familiar determination you always had when you got frustrated. He reached over to the laptop, clicking and adjusting, but his focus was still on you, his chest lightly brushing against your back.

He didn’t immediately lean over, instead standing beside you, his presence both comforting and distracting. You didn’t mind. You loved the warmth of his closeness. He was so gentle, so careful in how he made sure you felt supported.

He glanced at you, then back at the laptop. He hummed thoughtfully, then gently rubbed your back again. “Alright, let’s see…” he said softly, his tone light but assuring.

You didn’t bother turning the laptop toward him, neither did he. Rafe stepped closer, positioning himself behind you, and you could feel his presence envelop you completely. His hands, big and strong, slightly engulfed you, hovered over the laptop keyboard as he adjusted a few things.

You could barely focus on the screen anymore. The closeness of his body, the subtle warmth radiating off him, made it hard to concentrate. The way he moved, the way his breath brushed the skin on your neck—it was enough to make your heart skip a beat and make you smile.

Rafe, unaware of the effect he had on you, continued explaining, his voice low and steady. His hands worked expertly at the laptop, moving the cursor to where it needed to be. But your attention was elsewhere.

You didn’t realize it at first, but when Rafe paused and glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly, he realized that you weren’t listening to him. You weren’t even looking at the screen anymore. You were lost in the feeling of him being so close.

Rafe tilted his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips when he saw yours. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?” he said softly, his voice teasing but warm.

You opened your eyes, the small smile grew on your lips when you look up at him. “Sorry..” you muttered, but the smile on your face told him you weren’t sorry at all.

Rafe chuckled softly and pressed a light kiss to your temple. His hand rubbed gently over your right upper arm, making your smile widen.

his hands shifted, his right hand moving over your chest to rest lightly on your left upper arm, his left hand still on the keyboard. His gentle touch was a reminder of how much he cared, and you couldn’t help but feel giddy having him so close.

You leaned back into him even more, your head tilting back to rest against his shoulder. Making him lean his head towards yours.

His left hand remained steady at the laptop, but the closeness between you made everything else seem distant. All you cared about was this moment.

Rafe was explaining the issue with the cursor in more detail once again, you focused on the words this time. You kept your hands in your lap, cross-legged on the stool, as you simply allowed yourself to bask in his presence.

[divinesangel]

— 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞

ps. there's a mini announcement on personal readings at the end of the post! so if you're interested in getting a reading from me, don't miss it out! ♡

— 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

your soulmate is a compassionate soul. they've always felt a deep calling to be empathetic and help others. their level of emotional sensitivity is rare in today's world, and they harness that energy to find clarity and purpose in life. i also see that this person can be very spiritual, finding meaning in everything and believing that things happen for a reason. i also see them being the type of person to care a lot about you and always trying to make sure that you're okay.

on the other hand, i can also see that this person takes their relationships very seriously. when they commit to something, they are fully invested. in matters of love, they're not the type to engage in casual flings or without a clear direction. they've experienced several heartbreaks in their love life because of this, perhaps encountering individuals who didn't take them seriously or neglected the relationship due to lack of commitment. they simply weren't on the same page or at the same level, as your soulmate is someone who dates with the intention of marriage.

this person is also someone strategic and knows how to deal with others. they are intuitive while also having a keen understanding of people based on how they handle themselves and their actions. they also love to travel and likely someone who, by the time you meet them, has already visited many countries and will always talk to you about their travels and experiences. it seems that their job is what keeps them constantly traveling and visiting new places. you're going to bring a lot of peace of mind to this person and be great company, finally putting an end to their years of loneliness.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

the first thing that came to mind is that perhaps this person works in something related to law. it seems like they hold a fairly significant profession, and they're probably in a higher rank or position, which means they carry a lot of responsibility on their shoulders. this person has been through a lot, has had many experiences, and knows very well how the world works and what needs to be done to get to wherever you want to be. because of this, they've had to learn from a very young age that they must protect themselves and be always on guard to prevent others from getting too close or try to take advantage of them.

however, once you break through those barriers and start to get to know this person, you realize that they're actually quite open and very positive about the future. they're quite independent, and it seems like they've always been that way. i feel that much of this is because they've always been alone in all their battles and successes. it's somewhat difficult for this person to accept that others will be happy for them, that they will wish them the best, because they've been through many situations where others may have seen them as a rival or as someone who doesn't deserve what they have, when in reality, they do. it may also be that sometimes they don't feel entirely confident with their achievements and decide to keep them to themselves instead of celebrating them openly.

there's an energy in their lives regarding other people that is quite prominent. i see that they have had many problems with friendships in the past because these friendships didn't treat them entirely well, or perhaps there was a lot of negativity involved, envy, or similar. your soulmate has had to stay strong in all these circumstances and go through those disappointments of believing that someone has the best intentions for them and believing that someone was their friend when in reality, the other person thinks in a totally different way. they've had to go through a lot of negativity that has come from others, but now i see them manifesting what they desire and leading a quieter life.

when you meet them, you'll realize that this person is very good at communication and knows how to express themselves in any situation. i see that you're going to make this person very, very happy, but at the same time, you'll realize that they're someone who carries a lot of responsibilities and a heavy burden on them. this person will be able to find a kind of comfort in you because you'll know how to deal with it and how to make them feel better. it's going to be unusual for them, because they haven't experienced that type of feeling in their life, but they will gladly accept your love.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

your soulmate seems to be someone who leans towards the more traditional side of things. they value romantic relationships, personal connections, and above all, building a family and having a solid marriage. family happiness and emotional fulfillment are of utmost importance to them, as they deeply cherish such relationships and the joy of a harmonious home. they're affectionate and loving, seeking that sense of completeness and emotional satisfaction in you. while others may perceive them as rigid or overly logical, they're actually quite tender and affectionate. however, this side of them is reserved only for the one they love. initially, they might come across as cold or aloof, but as you get to know them, you'll realize that this facade doesn't reflect who they truly are. they're also likely to possess excellent communication skills and can effectively communicate in any situation. once you're with them, you'll discover the immense love they have to offer and how seriously they take relationships. it's highly probable that they've held onto the idea of marriage and lifelong commitment from a young age, perhaps influenced by their parents or grandparents. there's an energy of someone much older than them, probably a grandparent, guiding them to prioritize lasting connections.

at the moment, i see them going through a period of emotional or spiritual disconnection. they might be facing a challenging time where they feel uncertain about their love life or what the future holds. they seem to be feeling quite stuck despite their efforts, but this phase is temporary and won't last forever. one of their biggest concerns is not being able to find someone who truly understands them. of course, this won't be the case once they meet you, but for now, they're waiting for a change in their life that doesn't seem to come. there's a sense of resentment within them, making them question if what they're hoping for is unattainable or unrealistic. in their mind, all they desire is someone who will be there for them emotionally. it's a type of connection they haven't been able to find with anyone else, and they're unsure of what else to do to feel that way. they long for emotional fulfillment, someone who understands their feelings and makes them feel complete, something they haven't experienced so far. they also hold onto the idea of soulmates, but they're uncertain if it's something real or just a concept from books or movies.

nevertheless, they're someone who remains consistent and stable. this may become more apparent much later because it seems they're currently laying the groundwork for their future stability. but by the time you meet, i see this person being well-established, holding a respected position in society, and commanding much more respect than they do now. they may feel somewhat emotionally empty, but that's where you come in :)

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €5 ($5.43) so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!