#The Loose Control Band | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angrythingstarlight · 1 year ago

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Can see this being roommate!Bucky

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRcGCfkW/

Tell me why I saw a comment that said: I've watched my husband down a whole team just cause they downed me first. He definitely got the gak gak that night. 😂😂

-gif/idea anon

Roommate Bucky is always ready to defend you. And you—you're about to learn firsthand why gamers are notorious for being good with their fingers.

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Reader

WC: 2K

CW: Size kink, Beefy Bucky being absolutely massive, praise, degradation, choking, hand kink, fingering, overstimulation, hint of voyeurism, video game violence.

AN: Written on my phone, unbetad. This isn't based on any game in particular. It's just an excuse to write a little bit o' smut.

“No. No. Nonononono.”

YOU’RE DEAD flashes across the screen mocking you as your avatar’s bullet-riddled body fades into the abyss. You slump in the oversized gaming chair, tossing your controller on the desk. Jeers ring in your headset and you rip it off, throwing it next to the controller. She was so pretty. It took you ages to find one you liked and could pair with the cute outfit you picked.

The guys on your team didn’t even give you a chance. Who takes out one of their own? These jackasses apparently.

"You okay?" Heavy footsteps resound behind you. Glancing up, you see your roommate strolling into the living room. Your heart races at the sight of him. He’s gorgeous. No one should look this good.

Deep blue eyes framed by long lashes. Beard neatly trimmed, enhancing his jaw. He's wearing a pair of loose grey sweats that cling to his muscular thighs, long brunet locks, damp from the shower, curl around his nape. No shirt of course.

Your eyes follow a bead of water that rolls down his massive chest and goes into the valley of his ridged abs. It hits the band of his navy blue boxers peeking out from his pants and your mouth goes dry imagining what's hidden under those layers of cotton.

While you’re busy ogling him, he notices the mess you left on his desk and the start over screen on his gaming computer. “What happened, bunny?”

The reminder of that stupid game has your frustation and anger returning in droves and it overtakes your burgeoning lust. You explain how the guys, his gaming buddies, decided to fuck with you by taking you out in a flurry of friendly fire when they realized Bucky wasn’t in the room. The longer you speak, detailing all the nasty things they said to you, the more his features harden, a muscle ticking away in his clenched jaw.

“Huh,” he mutters under his breath. Bucky ambles over to the chair and lifts you out of it like you weigh nothing to him, considering what he benches for fun, you know you don’t. He sits down and arranges you over his thick thighs, your back resting against his warm, bare chest. He leans forward, picking up the controller and headset.

It's not the first time, you've sat on his lap during one of his gaming marathons, Bucky says you help him play better.

“What are you doing?” You ask, canting your head back, his body wash, fresh cedar and vanilla, wafts over you and it takes everything in you not to drop your face into his chest and just inhale him.

The corner of his lip lifts into a smirk. “You’ll see.”

Adjusting the headset, he takes the controller in both hands, his corded biceps that are bigger than your head brush against the sides of your breasts.

If he feels the shiver that wracks down your body, he doesn’t comment on it. He never does.

The controller looks so small in his large hands, your gaze follows the veins lining the back of them as his fingers nimbly manipulate the buttons. A rush of heat spreads through you when he rests his chin on your shoulder.

You try to clench your thighs to quell the ache beating between them, but your legs are dangling over his and you can’t.

“I—I’m not.” The lie is obvious even to your ears. He hums noncommittally, but you feel his arms press closer to your body, pushing your tits together.

You shift on his lap, freezing in place when you feel his chest rise and fall against your back, his deep, knowing laugh rolls across your skin. He teaaes, “don’t tell me you're needy already, bunny?”

Sometimes you can't tell if he's teasing or not. You asked once and he just grinned like tie answer should be obvious.

“Sure you’re not,” Bucky casually retorts after a man appears on the screen. His guy is more menacing than your avatar, tall and flanked in dark green camouflage, face concealed by a skull mask. Weapons rotate next to him, eventually stopping on a machine gun. Static crackles through his headset and he’s dropped onto a rooftop. “I’m back fuckers.”

Various greetings trickle through, only to be cut short when it becomes apparent that Bucky is going on a rampage. He storms across the building. Player after player goes down. Some you don’t even see until they fall to their death.

“Aw c’mon.”

“Fuck you.”

“Seriously, what the fuck Barnes–”

He’s ruthless. Headshots. Stabbing. More headshots. Your already damp panties are drenched when you point out the one that shot you first, and Bucky’s guy stomps the fuck out of Walker6969 before snapping his neck. A slightly undignified giggle slips past your lips when you hear his obnoxious complaint about Bucky not playing fair. Oh. Fucking. Well. More curses filter through his headset as he absolutely decimates the field.

Bucky tilts his face towards you with a blithe smirk, taking out another player without missing a beat. “I warned you shitstains that you better be nice to my girl.”

It’s not long before there’s no one left. Bucky tosses the control down, and wraps his arm around your belly, and leans back, taking you with him. “Feel better?”

“Yeah,” you reply sincerely, both impressed at his skill and pleased that he was so willing to defend you. “Thank you.”

“You really want to thank me, Bunny?” he whispers in your ear, nipping the lobe with a soft bite.

Your breath hitches. His hands curve under your knees, placing your legs over the armrests. “I asked you a question,” Bucky states, his tone domineering and dark.

You struggle to find any answer, but you can’t think with your roommate’s warm hand sliding down your shorts and cupping pussy and all you can do is whimper.

“You’re soaked,” he teases, tracing a finger down the middle of your clothed cunt. His touch is light, so light, but it sends a zap through your clit. “Could feel this hot little pussy throbbing on me. Practically begging for my cock,” Heat fans up the back of your neck and spreads to your face. He could feel that? Before you can drown in embarrassment, he’s kissing his way across your shoulder. ”Need me to get rid of this ache, don’t you?”

You want your roommates hands on you more than anything in this world. You’ve thought about this so many times, you can’t believe it’s happening. His touch feels better than you dreamed. His other hand travels a leisurely, gradual path up your shirt, moving your bra out of the way so he can roll your sensitive nipple between his rough fingers.

Another slow sweep over your pussy, just skimming your pulsating, swollen clit. It’s not enough. “Please,” you whine out, grinding down over his growing bulge. He’s getting bigger and bigger under you.

“Please what? Hmm, bunny, please what?” He cruelly taunts, pinching your nipple until your back arches off his chest. “Use your words.”

You cry out, the spark of pain fades into a heady, warm pleasure. “Touch me.”

You feel his lips curve into a smile, his teeth scrape over your throat. His thumb presses down your clit and goes still. “I am touching you.”

This is unbearable.

You’ve never been so wet in your life and he hasn’t done anything. You need him so badly it hurts.

Your pussy clenches down on nothing, you feel so empty.

“Bucky, I need you, need your fingers inside me, please fuck me,” you babble, willing to say anything to get more of him.

He doesn’t make you wait long. Without warning, he pushes your panties aside and a thick, calloused finger slides inside you.

“Tight little thing, aren’t you?” he remarks, adding another. Bucky used to everything being small compared to him. You are no exception. He doesn’t give you time to get used to the stretch before he starts scissoring you open, working your hot, wet cunt until he can give you one more finger. Bucky crooks his fingers, and he finds that elusive spot, the one you swore didn’t exist until now. He finds it again. And again. And again. White-hot sensations make you curl in yourself, your thighs trembling. The rough pads of his thick fingers languidly working that sensitive spot as he moves to your other nipple, plucking it into a hard peak.

“That’s your spot huh?” He asks with a cocky rasp. He knows. You told him by the way your moans went all breathy and softy and you started grinding on his cock like a greedy slut being to be filled. Judging by the way he can barely fit three fingers inside you, he knows his cock is going to split you in two. He can’t wait.

“Oh god,” you breathe out, clawing deep marks in the leather under your hands.

The wet schlick schlick schlick of your pussy with every knuckle-deep thrust of his fingers is pornographic.

Right around the second or third time, you clench down around him; he decides he’s going to film you, put your pretty pussy front and center on his flatscreen across from his bed, and make you watch as he fucks you the same way you’re fucking yourself on his fingers, your hips rolling back and forth, grinding your ass over his throbbing cock. Gonna make you watch as you struggle to keep every inch inside you, make you watch him fuck you stupid.

“Look at you making a mess all over me. Should make you clean it when you’re done. Gonna have you keep my cock warm while I finish the game.” The debauched image of you sitting on his cock while he plays flashes through your mind and a desperate moan builds in your throat, spilling out of your parted lips. “Yeah, you’re going to let me use this sweet cunt any time I want, gonna turn you into my personal fuckdoll.”

His thumb swipes over your clit, once, twice. Sensations burn through your veins, your body feels so hot and tight, like you’re on the edge of imploding. His hand leaves your nipple and grabs your throat, the sudden pressure makes your head feel light. “Oh god." Right there, fuck he just has to keep doing that, you’re so close, he just has to stay right there.

It’s like he can read your mind because he does, going harder and harder, giving you everything you need. “C’mon bunny, let me have it, give it to me.”

“Fuck yesyesyes, don’t stop please don’t–” you sob, the start of your orgasm sparks inside you.

“Not gonna tell you again, cum for me right the fuck now,” he rasps in your ear, squeezing tightly as he slams into your cunt, his thumb circling your clit faster and faster. His fingers catch your spot again, the pressure so good and so right that it sends you over the edge. Your orgasm barreling over you, wringing pleasure from every nerve in your body, and you gush around him.

“There it is, that’s my girl,” he praises, his words lost over the steady roar in your ears. He fucks you through it, drawing it out, only stopping after your vision blurs and you let out a pathetic noise, somewhere between a whimper and a sob, but you feel too good to care how you sound.

You’re a mess—limbs trembling and weak, still so lightheaded, you can't lift your head, letting it loll lazily over his broad shoulder. He gently takes his fingers out of your pulsating cunt and holds it up, the evidence of your release dripping down to his wrist. He brings his long index finger to his mouth, sucking it dry with a grin. “Damn, you taste good.”

"I–fuck Bucky that was amazing." You grab the armrests and push yourself up.

“Where ya goin’? I didn’t say I was done with you,” Bucky says, his hand loose around your throat as he brings you back down. "I was jus' getting you warmed up."

Oh.

He grinds against your ass, his heavy cock digging into you. He's so big. Despite the fact that you're still on an orgasmic high, you want more. You want Bucky.

“You still gonna thank me Bunny?"

And I—

Roommate!Bucky has returned!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #roommate!bucky barnes #beefy!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic

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cherrychilli · 22 days ago

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18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, neighbor! reader, friends to lovers, use of sex toy, chastity belt, mentions of virginity, sexual scenarios, implied PIV, implied loss of virginity WC:2.5K

Summary: What happens when you head over next door to seek your neighbor's help with a very intimate and unusual problem? a whole lot of repressed feelings are finally shared. And there's sex stuff too, duh.

Extended ending

It's the kind of decision that you didn't arrive at easily. Quite frankly, you feel you'd much rather down a cup of iron nails and let them shred your body from the inside on the way down, but that wouldn't fix your problem.

No, you were utterly fucked and you desperately needed help.

So, with one shaky step after the other, you approach your neighbor's trailer, stepping up to the door and realizing this is the closest you've been to it in a long time.

The temperature's perfectly balmy outside. Most folks have their laundry hung out, gently flapping in the wind but everything inside you is frigid cold. It takes you a couple of minutes to thaw your frozen limbs on his doorstep, raising your hand and rolling your fingers into a loose fist before tapping your knuckles against the door thrice.

Seconds pass and before you can attempt to knock again you hear some kind of commotion deeper inside the trailer, a bunch of dull thuds sounding out before you pick up on the sound of footsteps approaching.

You take a quick step back, pulling your ear away from the door and you weave your fingers together, holding them tightly down the front of your skirt.

No going back now.

When Eddie Munson pulls open the door in his sweats and a wrinkled band tee he's obviously pulled on in a hurry, everything starts to feel way too real for your liking.

You figure he must have been lounging in his underwear again. You know this because his curtains don't close all the way, leading to you catching glimpses of his bare chest and stomach from your own bedroom. Not that you ever meant to look. No, not at all.

"Uh hi, Eddie", you manage to string a few words together, your tongue feeling like you've barely got any control over it at all with the way it feels so limp and cotton dry in your mouth.

He doesn't answer, looking at you curiously and you worry if it's because he doesn't recall you despite the both of you having grown up in the trailer park and attending the same school. You ran in different circles sure, but you always made sure to say hi and wave politely at your neighbor whenever you saw him, even after you began to see less of him when you made it into College and he is yet to be awarded the high school diploma that keeps evading him.

"Oh I'm-"

"I know", he cuts you off. Abrupt but not rude.

"Right, so I came by because...well, I need your help."

He squints his eyes at you this time, almost like he's trying to solve a puzzle in his head.

"Didn't take you for the reefer type", his lips slant into a half smile, the dimple on his right cheek drawing your attention.

"What? Oh no, that's not why I came over" you quickly correct him though you can't blame him for thinking so. Everyone knows the grass is greenest at the Munson trailer, so to speak, and with the two of you not exactly being the closest of friends, you can't fault him for making the assumption.

"So, how can I help you then?"

"Actually it's kind of a delicate topic. Can I come in? I promise I can explain."

Come in?

And for reasons other than to score some drugs?

Eddie would never admit it out loud but no other girl has ever asked this of him before and he hopes it doesn't show because he's absolutely stumped, not really knowing how to react.

It's when he can't help but crumble under the weight of your doe eyes that he pulls the door open enough for you to squeeze by him with the sweetest smile on your lips. Turning you away, not that he'd want to, but the thought of turning you away felt much too akin to kicking a baby bunny.

You see the couch and you step over to it, your eyes wandering all over the trailer on your way. It's a little chaotic sure but you spy some order here and there, intrigued by the row of hats and mugs displayed neatly on the wall, wondering how long it must have taken them to amass the whole collection.

"So, you were saying that you need my help?"

You turn around, nearly colliding with the little Garfield mug he holds out to you. "Oh, thank you", you take it, looking inside to see a fizzy circle of grape soda inside bubbling back at you.

"Seen you having it at school a few times", he let's you know before you have a chance to ask him how he knew about your favorite drink.

Guess you weren't the only one occasionally sneaking a peek from a distance.

"Wow, that's so thoughtful", you smile at him again, noticing the way his cheeks pink up when he averts his eyes with a grunt to clear his throat.

"Yeah, don't worry about it."

You have a few sips as you sit down on the couch, sinking into the cushion. Now that you're inside, that sickening feeling slithers inside your body again and you start to go cold like before, placing the mug down on the table carefully, looking Eddie in the eye while he stands opposite you.

You gulp hard. "The reason I came over is because I did something...I did something really stupid and I need someone to help me who'll also be discreet about it. Please, Eddie. You have to promise me you won't tell."

Seeing you practically begging, seeing the way you look up at him like he's the only one who can help, like he's the only one you want to help you hits him right in the chest. And a little below the waistband of his sweats too but he files that thought away for later.

As much as he wants to say yes he needs to know more.

"Listen if you're in some kind of trouble or if you're-"

"No no it's nothing like that!"

"Okay, but I need to know what it is that I'm saying yes to."

That's reasonable. Entirely reasonable but your face falls into your open palms. You wish you could scream into them than have to bear the embarrassment you're about to cause yourself.

"Okay okay", you spring up onto your feet before you lose your nerve, standing right in front of him with your forehead nearly brushing his chin. "I need your help getting this off."

Quickly, you pull up your skirt to let him see what's underneath, his wide, terrified eyes flicking to and away from between your legs, not sure if he should actually be looking there despite you voluntarily baring yourself to him.

It's not everyday that a pretty girl comes by to flash him in the comfort of his own home.

When Eddie does manage to settle down somewhat he looks closer, taking in the thick black leather straps wrapped around you, studded with silver accents and your white cotton panties underneath which show through a cut out in the shape of a heart right above your mound.

"Please. I lost the key and I can't get the damn thing off. I've seen you working on your van with your tools. There must be something in there that you can use, right?"

Eddie's head is spinning, unable to stop focusing on your crotch and what he recognizes as a chastity belt from one of those BDSM magazines hidden under his bed wrapped around you.

"Why did you-"

You sigh. "I was checking to see if it fit because I wanted to wear it for someone I was dating", you admit with some disdain.

Eddie knows exactly who, sharing in your disdain.

"Danny Vaugh", Eddie says with a clear note of contempt, his tongue turning sour at the mention of his name. Skeezy little fucker who liked to test his luck by getting behind the wheel after a couple of beers and making out with a different girl at every party whether he had a girlfriend of his own waiting for him or not.

Eddie doesn't know what you ever saw in him, if at all.

"Right", you sigh, the regret clouding your whole face and with it, whatever feelings of embarrassment or shame are forced out, no longer afraid to just tell Eddie the truth.

"Yeah, well he dumped me. I wasn't ready to have sex and he was sick of dating a virgin." Watching the hurt register on your face made Eddie want nothing more than to introduce Danny to his ring clad fist. Repeatedly.

"So I saw this thing online and I don't know... a part of me thought he'd be into it? give him the key and let him finally have me or whatever. But a little while ago I heard that he's already moved on. With some girl in the same class as me too...that's so like him. And I've been locked in this fucking thing for the last three and a half hours. Please, I really need it off."

"That's... wow", he blinks, stunned. Not usually one to be at a loss for words but this was wild even for him.

"Yeah, so can you help me or not?"

You never would have thought you'd be in this position. Your skirt off while you sit down on the edge of Eddie Munson's bed, your legs spread for him as he kneels between them, trying his best to figure out which angle to tackle this problem from.

He's got a tool box to his left, all manner and sorts stored inside. Some of them you recognize and most of them you don't.

"Alright, so I think the best way would be to get this padlock off", he taps the heart shaped cut out and you feel it right on your mound. It's worse for him because this close it's hard for Eddie to remain professional when he can see your pussy clenching underneath the thin cotton barrier of your panties.

"So, what are you gonna use?" you ask him, throat scratchy and nervous when you eye a hammer and the sharp teeth of a saw laying among the tools.

"Don't worry. Got just the thing."

His hand dips into the tool box, sorting through it for nearly a minute.

"Got it", he smiles, pulling out something you hadn't anticipated.

"A safety pin?", you ask, confused.

Eddie chuckles at your reaction, his hands already on the padlock on your hip.

"Gonna pick it. Don't worry, I've done this a thousand times", he assures you. He bends the pin out of it's usual shape, twisting and pulling until he seems satisfied with the end result. Carefully, he inserts the sharp end of the pin inside the keyhole on the lock, fiddling with it this way and that.

"Pretty cool you know how to do this stuff", you tell him sincerely, relieved he didn't opt to cut or hammer you out of the belt.

The praise goes straight to his blushing cheeks. He's so used to people passing judgement on him for knowing these kinds of things, thinking of him as some kind of irredeemable good for nothing with the skillset of a petty thief. Just like his father.

You don't think that of him though. He knows it by the way you treat him but with how nice you're being it's almost hard for Eddie to keep focus.

This whole situation reminds him of the kinds of things that only happened in the pages of his graphic novels. Blood drenched Knights slaying vicious dragons to save beautiful princesses who've been locked away. Princesses who liked to show their appreciation in a certain kind of way. Princesses who've never lain with anyone before, though that was about to change now that they've found someone honorable and worthy, eagerly offering themselves to their knights.

And here's one just perched on his bed, looking so captivated by the way he's trying to save you. Not that you were offering yourself to him, he reminded himself bleakly.

But the fantasy still lingered in his mind because that's all he ever had.

A little more of turning the pin this way and that and there's a click that gets the lock to pop open at last, earning a deep sigh of relief out of you.

Setting the pin aside, Eddie helps to take the chastity belt off of you, pulling the leather down and off over your feet, taking in the marks left behind on your skin in the shape of the dark leather.

He goes to return your skirt too but you take it from him and place it aside, in no hurry to dress yourself.

"I've spent an hour with you and you've already treated me better than Danny ever did."

A 'told you so' sits on the tip of his tongue but he doesn't let it go past his teeth. So he doesn't quite know what to say to that instead, blinking back at you with a little smile.

"You know, I regret not getting to know you better", you tell him and he can hear the sadness gripping your throat like phantom fingers bearing down on your windpipe.

"You didn't miss anything", he chuckles just to be nice. Anything to keep you from looking sad again.

You shake your head. "I mean it. If I knew you better I would have never bothered with people like Danny...'only let him take me out because I was lonely. Thought I couldn't do better than him and I settled", you admit it out loud for the very first time.

It feels wonderfully cathartic to let these thoughts spill out like you're purging all the poison that filled your belly. Every little lie you swallowed down, all the times you tried to convince yourself that you were happy with Danny now being forced out of your system, no longer clogging your mind and veins.

The admission makes Eddie gawk at you in pure disbelief. "I'm sorry, you thought you weren't good enough? please tell me you're joking."

It's your turn to chuckle this time.

"I don't know, I just never hit it off with any one before."

'Until now', you wanted to add as you bite your lip.

"Yeah well it's their loss", he mutters, closing up his tool box and shoving it aside.

"Hey, Eddie?"

He looks up at you again. "Yeah?"

Slowly, you spread your legs wider, drawing him closer until your knees frame his shoulders.

"You missed one", you lower your hand down to your underwear, pinching the waistband between your fingers and letting it snap back in place against your skin.

He nearly keels over when he notices the soft cushion of your bush peaking through.

"You want me to take it off?", he croaks like a helpless toad, fingers all twitchy with excitement.

"Could you?", you tip your head to the side and ask sweetly, a picture of innocence though you both know that's not entirely the case.

"Yeah, I can do that."

You lift your lower body off the bed to help him, watching carefully as he drags your panties down your thighs, over the curve of your calves and off your feet so he can pocket them for later.

"Fucking Christ you're beautiful", he lets out in awe.

"Bet you say that to all the girls", you giggle back.

"Nope. Not like this."

He's quite serious. You can feel it in the way he looks at you. Unlike the devil worshipper that they all claim he is, he kneels between your feet like he might at an altar.

Praying to you. Praying for you.

"Go on. Touch me", you grant him permission.

Eddie gladly but carefully pulls your pussy folds apart, one thumb pressing against your quivering hole which he watches clenching open and closed open and closed. It's so small, the opening. How was he going to fit anything inside you let alone his cock? He supposed he'd have to take his time and work you open, the thought making his skin buzz excitedly like static.

And his other thumb gently pulls up the hood to reveal your clit, this glossy little bead that makes his mouth water at the thought of sucking on it till he makes you gush all over his tongue. He can't help but get the impression that the poor thing's been neglected until now. That clown Danny definitely hadn't found it. And he never would have, not even with both hands and a map.

"Want you to show me how good it feels", you tell him, working your right foot between his legs to gently rub it along the ridge of his clothed erection.

An hour ago you were neighbors reacquainting with each other. Now, he's helped you through one of your worst moments, and you stayed, not only wanting to reward him for it but also because despite how spontaneous this all was, you finally feel ready.

Eddie notices the shift in you too, a sly smile pulling at his lips but his eyes remain gentle, "Oh, I'll show you so much more than that, I promise."

Extended ending

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things smut #stranger things #eddie munson x reader

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hadesrise · 6 months ago

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## one true love !!

summary──── ben feels true love with you, his enemy, and finds himself able to break from the toxic masculinity he surrounded himself with.

pairings──── soldier boy / benjamin x anti-hero!male reader

warnings──── nsfw content, porn with too much feelings, fluff, slight angst, foul language, probably (very definitely) ooc soldier boy, top!reader, sub!bottom!ben, gentle love, praise kink, hair pulling, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, overstimulation, vibrator, pet names ( love, baby, pup, etc. ), short oral ( r. receiving ), love-making, mating press, missionary, riding, aftercare, light D/S dynamics, pillow talk, a lot of vulnerability, ben proposes to reader unexpectedly, enemies in forbidden love, internalised homophobia, morally grey!reader, possessiveness, homophobic slurs, canon typical misogyny, reader’s anti-hero name is lucifer, reader has magical powers

author’s note──── i might’ve made him too soft and vulnerable, so forewarning that he doesn’t show much of his asshole side in this fic. the ooc warning already says much, i guess?

MINORS DNI !!

Peaceful jazz music and well dressed crowd fills the grand hall decorated in gold curtains, men and women from different wealthy families flaunting around their riches with drinks in hand. Adorned in nothing but expensive attires that feeds off of the poor were most guests that have been invited to celebrate another success of Vought-American with a superhero movie that starred its own team, Payback, while the heroes themselves remained in their pretty little costumes for the publicity and fame.

Cameras, photographers, and journalists lurked in the corner section of the hall, where they’ve been assigned to fulfil their destiny of capturing significant moments that are interesting enough to be written on headlines or shown on television.

Nights like this were when Soldier Boy wanted to beat the shit out of Vought employees for their incapability in making celebrations entertaining. The lack of excitement and chaos infuse Ben with excessive boredom that just gives him the urge to shoot himself in the head, all of its professionalism becoming nothing but a burden and straight up pain in the ass. He’s been hardly enjoying the night, having to put up with Crimson Countess attached to his hip at all times to keep appearances, which he admits is worse than fucking a loose cunt. It didn’t make him feel better that Stan fucking Edgar was watching, making sure things are under control.

The jazz music suddenly stops short with a loud screeching sound that has everyone covering their ears in pain, startled murmurs filling the air as all eyes turned to the stage where a famous band stood, confusion also plastered across their faces. One of them repeatedly presses down on the piano’s key, frowning when it does nothing as if it lost its function all of a sudden. Sensing the panic slowly rise among guests, Stan opens his mouth to speak, only for his words to die in his throat when the lights begin to flicker.

“You know, I’m quite displeased to not have received an invitation.” Deep, resonant, husky voice littered with confidence and cockiness erupt out of nowhere as the flickering lights return to normal, an utterly familiar figure making themselves known.

Gasps, of either excitement or fear, falls from everyone’s lips to your powerful presence that almost immediately caused a shift in atmosphere. Soldier Boy’s breath hitched, feeling his throat dry as he cleared his throat and swallowed.

You don’t miss the quick look of surprise and panic flashing across Stan’s face before they were hidden behind his casual mask of greedy businessman, making the corner of your lips twitch up.

“You’re simply not welcome here, Lucifer.” The man uttered with barely contained irritation despite his best efforts to remain calm, spitting your antihero name — given by, not Vought, but the public themselves — in distaste.

Amusement emerge on your expression, completely unbothered by the antagonistic perspective Stan sees you with.

There’s an underlying overconfidence and arrogance to the way you hold yourself, a man who clearly knows how influential and threatening your own existence is and isn’t even apologetic for it. It wasn’t just for a show — you knew you mattered, knew exactly your worth, and didn’t hide behind the fake persona of a beloved public figure that pretends they’re enjoying a single bit of what they’re doing. Your ego and pride seemingly rivals that of Soldier Boy’s yet yours come more naturally, like you were born with it without the need to develop them in amidst of your life to trick yourself into feeling more relevant. You held charisma, a charm that seems to pull people closer to you despite the dangerous, deceitful, fucking jackass attitude you had that’s supposed to be driving them away. It makes Ben want to either punch your face or suck your cock like a fag whore.

“Fair enough,” You shrugged. “But I certainly make parties more fun. You could learn a couple or two from me.”

Stan’s eye twitches in annoyance at your arrogance; it’s much worse that he can’t use anything to stomp on it because your ego wasn’t fragile like the others. While most men, supe or not, wrap their self-importance in toxic masculinity in order to feel superior than they actually are, you were fully comfortable with yourself. Your emotional capacity was extremely high that developed you to become invincible against criticism or rejection. He can attempt to hurt your feelings, manipulate you, use your own ego against you all he wants — none of it will force you to surrender or submit no matter what because you, quite simply, loved yourself too much to be under power hungry maniacs.

When Stan can’t seem to muster a snarky remark, you smirk and invite yourself in, walking further into the grand hall as you snap your fingers, the white bright lights turning into colourful disco lights with your magic.

You stared at the band members on stage, eyes glowing red, and forcefully overtake their minds to play an upbeat party worth music instead of the boring jazz they did. It’s not that you dislike jazz music, it’s peculiar and beautiful on its own, you’re just not really fond of formal parties where everyone’s required to be in their good behaviours, barely having the time of their life if not to shove their riches down less wealthy people’s throat, which you don’t particularly find amusing or fun at all.

It seems to excite the guests, some of them even beginning to bop their heads to the catchy rhythm, moving their previously still bodies along with the beats. Energy surges through them, life revealing itself within their eyes that was filled with misery before you barged in.

“Let go of the fucking formality, ladies and gentlemen.” You grinned wide with your arms spread open to your sides. “It’s time for a true fun party!”

Ben was in awe when all cheered at your declaration, how quick you were able to turn this entire place into your own playground despite the hosts — authorities — being present, how much of a natural you were at gaining people’s faith and attention without doing more than show up and be yourself.

It should be making him envious; he’s doing all these heroism, model, actor bullshit and hiding behind a perfect macho-man façade to be loved and paid attention to for fuck’s sake, and yet it’s so easy for you to bend people at your own will just by being yourself. He should be pissed as he always did when others get the spotlight more than him, but Ben couldn’t find it in himself to.

How the fuck is he going to be pissed when you look so disgustingly hot doing all of it?

“He’s fucking doing it again,” Countess seethes through gritted teeth, glaring at you. Her little tug on his arm snaps him out of daze as he shifts his gaze to her. “Taking all the attention away from you. With the rate he’s going, I wouldn’t be surprised if he interrupts everything you’re in.”

Ben had to pretend to irritably clench his jaw, and smiled with sarcasm. “As if I’d let him. Fucking asshole needs to be put in his place.”

He knew you heard him when the corner of your lips pulled up in a smirk, one of your brows raising to shoot him a challenging look. It sends a thrill down Ben’s spine as he scowled, giving you a death glare that everyone sees for it is; rage, hatred, despise.

“Pleasure to see you here, Soldier Boy. Crimson Countess.” You greet in a feigned enthusiasm, swiftly taking a cocktail from the waiter that just passed, and approach them in all your glory.

“Fuck you,” Soldier Boy quickly snarled as Countess spits, “Get the fuck away from us.”

Amusement instantly cross your face, nearly making both of them want to punch you. “So much for greeting lovebirds in clown costumes,” You dejectedly say with a hand over your chest for dramatic effect, in contrast to the mocking way in which you spoke. “C’mon, I just made this boring, useless party worth your precious little time. At least now you can stop being a pussy hiding behind an awfully constructed television personality.”

That strikes a nerve in Soldier Boy as his face hardened and a cold look appeared, stepping forward warningly, “I’d choose my next fucking words wisely if I were you.” Countess tugs his arm in a nervous manner while scanning their surroundings, taking notice of people watching your interaction.

You meet his glare with a calm yet daring look and leaned closer, “I wouldn’t. I know I can beat you.” Your eyes glowed in red once again as you grinned confidently.

Ben’s hand twitched, but before he could make a move, a woman approached you from behind and tugged on your elbow, interrupting the little rivalry you had going on. “I’m sorry, do you mind if we dance and have fun for a bit?” She shyly but bravely asked you, not even sparing Soldier Boy a glance.

An unimpressed look flashes in your eyes that only Ben took notice of, the subtle annoyance to the woman for cutting into your rather hostile conversation. You, however, plastered on an emotionless smile within a split second, not giving anyone the chance to see through you. “I’ll lead the way,” You barely looked at him before walking off with her to the centre of the hall where bodies swayed to the beat.

It takes everything in Ben not to square up and make a mess of this party when you started dancing with her, your body dangerously close to hers as she stares at you with a look that made him want to strangle her slim neck. As if you’re a divine sculpture created by Gods, like you’re the entire universe, most precious being to ever exist in this planet, like she knew everything about you when she, in fact, absolutely did not. But he does.

And Ben knows he’ll be screaming your name, holding you impossibly close to him, digging his nails onto your back as you grind into him — everything she wished you’ll do to her — when all of this shit show is over.

At the end of the day, no slut or pussy fucker would come home to you but him; you’ve chosen him despite the countless amount of people throwing themselves pathetically at you, and Ben will make sure he’ll forever be the only one who does.

Lewd squelching, sucking sounds fill the dimly lit bedroom of your home as the stench of sex and arousal surround the air, more prominent due to your and Ben’s enhanced senses. You sat comfortably against the headboard of your shared bed with Ben in between your legs as he sucks and slurps your cock, taking it as far as he can in his mouth and gagging. Tiny muffled moans or groans escape him occasionally, hips grinding against the mattress to stimulate his own aching dick while the vibrator you bought for him nestled deep inside his prepped hole.

“You love my fuckin’ cock so much, don’t you?” You chuckled hoarsely, almost degrading, and Ben shudders. “It’s alright, love. m’not goin’ anywhere.” Your fingers tread through his hair, gently scraping your nails against his scalp, making him groan as his hips stutter.

Maintaining eye contact with you, Ben inhales a deep breath through his nose before taking your cock further down his throat, tears gathering in his eyes when he nearly gagged. A genuine smile adorns your face when he looks at you expectantly, the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen holding desperation and self-doubt. Pleading expression that he shows only to you.

“You want me to praise you, pup? Call you good boy?” He whines in response — God, that fucking sound you know he’d rather die than let anyone else hear. Ben doesn’t have any idea how much it affects you, the fact that you’re the only one whom he allows a vulnerable side of him show.

Realising he has to earn what he yearns for, Ben gently wraps his hand around the base of your cock where it didn’t fit and starts to bob his head. You moaned softly, throwing your head back; the sight being such a blessing to Ben’s eyes that makes his own cock throb and needy. He swirls his tongue on the underside of your shaft, his free hand gripping your thigh for support.

“Doin’ so good, love. You’ve gotten better at this,” You cooed, petting his hair and gently thrusting up into his throat. Ben closed his eyes, a blissful look appearing on his face as he relaxed and allowed you to move instead.

The trust and faith Ben has in you makes something explode within your chest, heart swelling in love and adoration at your troubled yet adorable partner.

Building a healthy and trustful relationship with him was more difficult than anything you’ve ever done before, considering the absolute bigotry his father forcefully fed into him and all the unresolved issues he had with himself. Despite the tough and harsh exterior he constantly put on, you had seen right through him when you first met — those broken spirit that yearned to be loved or needed by people hiding behind his douche, Soldier Boy persona, a man that his imbecile of a father always wanted him to be. It amused you as much as it squeezed your chest; one of the first strongest superhero being a fucking attention starved bastard was undeniably funny, but pitiful. It’s also why you fell in love with him.

You’ve accepted that Ben was always going to have a deep rooted homophobia in him, that there won’t be a day where you’ll be seen in the public with him holding hands like star-fucking-crossed lovers, that he’ll always be too much of a pussy to be fully himself — but you never expected him to be so open, comfortable, with you like this to the extent of willingly trusting you with a needy and desperate version of himself.

Benjamin is laying his heart out bare for you to take, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to make love to him or fuck his brains out. You decided with the former.

Confusion settles on Ben’s expression when you gently pushed his shoulders to make him pull away, a sudden worry if he’s done something wrong, but all thoughts flies out the window after you passionately smashed your lips against his and guided him on your lap. Ben gasps when you pulled the vibrator out of his hole and replaced it with your thick fingers, hooking his arms on the back of your neck.

“So good, love. Lookin’ all pretty for me.” He moans at your praise, the compliment making his heart flutter rather than boost his ego.

“s’for you…” They come out in whisper from his lips, littered with slight reluctance around the edge, but you hear it loud and clear. “All for you. I— fuck… just for you,” He grinds on your fingers, crying out when you curled them just right to stimulate his prostate.

You almost feel dizzy for his words that he’s never uttered before.

The utmost pride he upholds made it difficult for Ben to completely submit to you, often being a disobedient brat that needs to be put in his place or a quiet, reserved man that’s embarrassed to be loved by another man which causes him to be tense for the first half of this activity — so seeing him like this, hesitantly yet openly letting you in to his comfort zone, spilling the thoughts he’s always been fearful of admitting, holding you tight to him as if you’d slip from his grasp if he let you go, was pleasantly surprising. Your heart flutters, butterflies filling your stomach as the urge to protect and gently take him apart piece by piece runs like electricity through your veins, fuelling your desire for Ben.

You thrust your digits with gentle pace, Ben’s hips moving on its own to chase the pleasure. “That’s right, baby. All f’me, yeah? My pretty darling?”

The gentleness of your whispered voice and your eyes staring at him with pure love sends shivers down his spine; Ben holds your face and nods, pulling you in for a kiss. You can feel his suppressed fear through his desperate lips, the doubts that lingers in his mind that you might see him differently for being so vulnerable like this, and you quickly silence his thoughts by slipping your tongue inside his mouth.

Ben mewled when you add another digit in him, now having three fingers penetrating his hole, as he breaks the kiss to breathe for air. There’s a hazy look in his tearful eyes when he meets your gaze, “Take care of me, please.”

You groan at the plea, immediately pulling your fingers out to instead align your cock with his entrance. Ben must’ve been waiting for so long because he doesn’t hesitate to sink down on it almost in an instant, a loud collective moan escaping the two of you. Your hands gripped his hips while he rested both hands on your shoulders, and fuck he felt so fucking good. The way his warm, tight velvety walls deliciously clamp around you as if swallowing your cock whole, the way his divinely beautiful body perfectly fit against yours like he was made for you.

“fuck… you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” You praised, kissing up his throat as he threw his head back in pleasure. “Completely mine, so is Soldier Boy. Everythin’ about you, Ben. It’s all mine.”

Ben nods vigorously, gripping the back of your neck and starting to ride you at a perfect pace, tiny sounds escaping his mouth. Slipping his fingers through your hair, he gently tugged on them just enough that had you groaning, and laid his forehead to rest against yours. “Y-yours- ah… Yours as… as much as you’re fucking mine,” He grunts out, possessiveness hanging onto his every word that shot excitement through your body. “No one gets to f-fucking have you… oh fuck—!” He cuts himself off with a strangled moan when you snapped your hips up.

“Yeah? Not even that slut that danced with me on the dance floor?” You teased, smirking.

His bright green eyes seem to darken as he sinks even further down on your cock, forcefully stretching himself out, hissing at the delicious pain. You moaned, wrapping an arm around him to pull him to your chest. “Fuck, especially her.” Ben almost growls, one hand coming up to wrap around your throat, feeling you throb and seemingly get bigger inside him due to it. “You… belong to me, o-only me.”

You hum, moaning softly when he squeezed your jugular just right. “Always, my love.”

Relief washes over his entire body as he begins to roll his hips and move again, leaning down to suck and kiss on your exposed collarbone. “Oh fuck… It’s— a-agh…! Tell me- tell me, please…” He whined desperately.

Ben needed to hear you say it, have the promises of you completely belonging to him nailed into his brain so he’ll never feel insecure or doubtful again. He’ll never admit it, but you always know every little thing that goes on inside his head, those haunting words of his father that seems to have a tight grip over him. You’re the only one that could see right through his soul; someone exactly opposite from his father, someone who fearlessly challenges the normality or ancient traditions, someone who actually have their shit together that enabled you to be mature, wise, unapologetically yourself.

You were extraordinary in every way possible, and Ben knew his inner vulnerable — not quite the man his father wanted him to be — self was safe with you. Always secured. Never judged nor ridiculed, instead embraced perfectly by your strong and warm arms that shields him away from the mental, emotional harm.

He knew you would catch him when he falls. You would keep him and his treasured thoughts safe. You weren’t afraid to love him loudly, wholeheartedly, and Ben allows himself to be brave just this once without thinking about his fears.

Trailing one of your hands up his nape, you pull him back to a searing kiss, pouring all the desire and love into it. Ben melted, his hand on your throat loosening as you gently twist your bodies around to lay him down on the bed without pulling out. He whimpers and chases you when you detached your lips from his, which nearly made your heart explode.

“I belong to you, my love.” You whispered, kissing down his neck and chest, thrusting your cock sensually slow inside him. Nothing quite like the animalistic sex you two usually have due to your powers, but it was more right than ever. “My heart, my body, my soul, my spirit. All for you, belong with you.”

Ben feels as if his heart would hammer right out of his ribcage from how rapid it was beating.

Your soothing yet powerful presence all over the place, hovering over him and embracing every bit of the damaged part of himself that he refused to acknowledge. There’s resistance gnawing on his skin, the unhealthy urge to push you away and guard himself again with a thick wall despite being the one who willingly showed vulnerability, but Ben uses all of his ability to shove it down. He wanted to listen to your overwhelmingly romantic and gentle words that he’s been taught men should never utter, he wanted to be held with so much care like he was your most prized possession, he wanted to be actually loved. For once, he wanted to allow himself to not be drowned in the toxicity his father had force-fed him with.

It doesn’t take you a second to notice him relaxing even further underneath your body, practically leaning onto your existence as the pretty noises escaping his mouth seems to gradually get louder, like he stopped holding himself back.

An awe surrounds your expression, genuinely taken aback by him letting everything go, and a soft sigh of pleasure falls from your lips. “That’s it, baby. You make the most prettiest sound. Don’t hold back,” Cooing gently, you adjust your hips and rolled into him, brushing his prostate at a perfect angle.

Ben keened, arching his back. “Fuuuck… oh, please. Deeper.”

You obliged, keeping the same slow and sensual pace but pushing further inside. “You’re made for me, aren’t you? Just as I’m made for you,” You sharply snap your hips once to emphasise, and he cries out. “We’re one, my love. No one can have me, I come home to you and only to you no matter what.”

His breath hitched, the pleasure and your words sending explosions of euphoria into his brain, nodding mindlessly at your promises. “Y-yes, fuck… I’m- I’m yours, too— ah, hng…” Tears spill from his beautiful green eyes as he spread his legs more wide, one hand grabbing your wrist that was propped beside his head to stabilise your body, almost clinging onto you while the other scratched against the mattress. “F-fucking Christ, always- always yours.”

“I know,” You softly acknowledged. “Always mine, no matter how much some part of you can’t accept it. I can see right through you, love. I understand everything about you.”

“I- oh yes! There, fuck!” Ben sobs when you start picking up your pace, hips bucking against you. “Y-you do… God, you a-always fucking do.”

That causes a grin to spread across your lips before you leaned down to devour him again.

Truth be told, Ben was afraid of how much you saw everything he’s been trying to hide all his life. It takes a bit of his soul every-time he learns to be indifferent, more sick and twisted. The innocence in him had died out long ago, but the desperation of a child never vanquished — the pathetic, ruined and heavily deprived of any love someone that he always forced himself to forget or get rid of, was seen entirely by you without much effort. He didn’t need to say anything, you always understood all the hidden insecurity, longing, pain, and fear nested deep in his mind. You also understood why he was the way he was, why he does what he does, who he had to become.

To be loved is to be seen and understood, he guesses.

A love he’s never thought he’ll ever experience from anyone, let alone his supposed enemy. You gave it to him, though. All so willingly, happily, like he was meant for it, like he was always meant for you.

Strangled, loud moan was forced out of him when your hand wrapped around his achingly hard dick, making him feel dizzy from all the overwhelming desire and pleasure. Every bit of love that emits from your touch sends a frying electricity through his veins, fulfilling his inner thirst that was supposed to be unquenchable.

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck—!” Ben wails, arching his back and digging his nails on your forearm as your thumb rubbed his sensitive slit and smeared precum all over. “C-close… oh, Christ! Cummin’, cummin’, please—”

“It’s alright, Ben. I got you,” You purred, slamming your hips down on him. “Let go, cum for me.”

As if that’s all the permission he needed, Ben instantly tumbles over the edge with a loud breathy whine as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, sticky loads shooting out from his cock to his stomach. Body spasming and head thrown back, letting his mind-blowing orgasm wave right off of him, still clinging onto you. You gritted your teeth when his hole tightened impossibly around you, feeling yourself throb and ache to release.

Ben — in spite of his cloudy, mushed state of mind as well as hazy and cock-drunk look in his eyes — suddenly wraps both strong legs around your hips to keep you in place, which forces you forward to bury yourself deeper inside him, eliciting a growl of curses from you.

His mouth splits into a dumb, shit-eating grin. “Inside, baby. Fill me up… give me all you got. I need you.” He moves his hips and squeezes down like a fucking expert prostitute, and it’s enough to have you let out a guttural groan as you spilled inside his tight hole.

Ben released a shattered breath, moaning delightfully at your warm cum that taints his insides, his hand that was gripping your forearm moving down to caress his belly where he could feel you finishing.

It makes your breath hitch; the action sparking a deep hidden desire and possessiveness within you that you’ve had shackled for so long in order to not be too greedy.

But Ben, oh your precious Benjamin, pressed down on his perfect belly and whined so brokenly that tugged the strings of your heart, as if he wanted something so unreachable. He attempts to bury his face on the pillow in what you recognised as shame and you quickly hold his face to keep him from hiding from you, subtle concern glimmering in your gentle eyes.

“What’s bothering your mind, love?” You whispered with such carefulness, afraid speaking too loud would break the bubble of sensitivity that surrounded the two of you as you pressed a light kiss on his temple. “You can tell me, Benji. It’s not embarrassing nor shameful.”

Ben’s heart swells at the way you cage him in your protective arms and words, the back of his eyes stinging from the tears that threatened to come out. He doesn’t deserve you; he never did, but you’re so good to him and he doesn’t think he can live without you. No, he knows he can’t live without you.

What would he do without your captivating eyes looking at him with so much passion no one ever gave him before, your gentle voice uttering such carefully crafted words that embraces rather than cut through him, your big and muscular yet warmly protective arms holding him like he was a treasure to behold, your soul healing and rebuilding every damaged bit of his spirit like it was your purpose? What would he do without you?

And fuck, everything would be so much easier if he wasn’t a fucking man. If he wasn’t such a pussy who’s afraid of risking everything.

You gently roll your hips against his, slow and steady, as if to comfort his nerves and overthinking thoughts with a soft pleasure.

Letting out a quiet, breathy sigh, Ben holds your face close and internally fights back against the restraints that wanted to keep him from opening his soul up to you. “We’d be… We’d be so much happier if I wasn’t a fucking man,” His whispered voice breaks at the end.

His heart ached and so did yours, a realisation dwelling on you of how serious Ben actually was with your relationship. It comes off as an unexpected admittance. While you knew he did love you like you love him, you didn’t think it was to this extent of imagining the countless possibilities if either of you was a woman instead, much less he’d think of himself to be the woman. It was odd and so unlike him — true love brings out something within people, you suppose.

Tears glimmered in his green eyes that’s filled by storm of emotions.

Ben hated this, hated you for making him such a crybaby and a pussy, but he’s so in love with you it fucking hurts. He doesn’t know what triggered him to be an annoying, pathetic, insecure loser the moment you held him. God, he’s Soldier Boy for fuck’s sake!

Then, you look at him with so much tenderness like he hung the moon and was the only thing that grounds you down to earth, and Ben realises it’s this.

“You’re such a fucking fool,” You affectionately cursed with a tone barely above whisper before pressing a lingering kiss on his lips. “I wouldn’t have spared you a glance if you weren’t. Women never captivated me, love. Only you.”

Wrapping his arms around your back and burying his face on the crook of your neck, Ben inhales your scent as you gently rock your bodies together. “Love me more,” He almost demands, voice low and trembling.

You smiled, “Of course, Benji.”

Pressing a sweet kiss on his head, you grab the back of his thighs and push them to his muscular chest, Ben’s flexibility despite his well defined physique making it easier for you to fold him. In a swift motion, you slam down on him, beginning to pound away the loud thoughts that made home in his mind. Angelic, high pitched sounds escape Ben’s mouth with each rough thrusts, bordering on pornographic. The blissful look across his face enhance his already ethereal features, and you can’t help but stare intently at him.

“You look so beautiful like this, love. Taking me in so well, letting me cherish you.” You praised, earning a needy whimper from the love of your life. “My Benjamin… my brave soldier.”

At the unexpected pet name, Ben’s body jolts and a choked sob erupted from his throat, suddenly pushed over the edge as he cums undone on his stomach. “F-fuck!”

“G-god, baby…” You groaned, shuddering in pleasure at the way his gummy walls spasms around your girth. “Drivin’ me insane, y’know that? Cummin’ with just my words alone? Shit, wanna fuck you hard and love you at the same time.”

Digging his nails on your back, Ben attached his lips on your collarbone with an intent to leave several possessive marks, making you jut your hips forward. “D-do it, fuck me.” He mumbled breathlessly.

That’s the only permission you needed to let go of your own self-control and just rut into him like an animal, thrusting your cock with more vigour and roughness that forced the headboard to repeatedly bang against the wall. Feeling the way your shaft practically drill into and rearrange his guts that brought immeasurable ecstasy, Ben finds himself finally unable to make out a coherent thought as drools drip down his chin. The two orgasms you milked out of him already left him sensitive enough, his thighs quivering under your grasps.

Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and wet squelches filled the room, accompanied by feral noises of both of your moans and grunts.

It’s nearly incomprehensible how you’re able to quickly switch between loving him and treating him like a slut next, a perfect balance to Ben’s constant yearning for admiration or appreciation and his tendency to always be an inconsolable brat that needs to be put back in his place.

He feels so complete and whole, so loved. And so so fucking dumb for your cock. He could stay like this forever without heavy expectations weighing over his head all the time, just taking you whole and letting you ruin his body, looking all pretty and beautiful for you. Yeah, he can do that. Being pretty and sexy has always been a talent of his, after all. He can even learn to cook for you like a fucking perfect, pretty housewife, maybe you’ll stuff him full of your cum again while at it and tell him to keep them in. Fuck, he can do that too. He wants to do that.

“Oh fuck, Ben…” An almost pornographic, low growl rumbles from your chest when he squeezed down on you, his warm walls fluttering against your girth from the imagination. The coil in your stomach tightens as you twitched inside him, too close to your high.

“I- ah—! Please, pleaseplease—!” He babbles, one hand shifting to press your ass and push you in deeper, syllables slightly slurred from how cockdrunk he was.

Understanding his wordless signal, you increase your pace with an angle that drives your instincts wild, a chill running through your spine from the overwhelming pleasure. Seeing Ben completely fall apart and surrender underneath you gives your ego an infinite boost, the powerful man such a sobbing, wrecked, pretty little mess just because of your cock. Drunk in every little euphoria and precious love you feed him. Oh, how fucking adorable and gorgeous he was.

Before long, Ben feels you throb inside him and pulls you in with what little willpower he had left, clumsily slipping his tongue in your mouth, overwhelming you with different sensations of his body against yours. It’s enough to have you harshly ram your hips down in one swift motion and empty yourself inside him, a loud wail of your name leaving Ben’s lips as he finishes as well. You feel his body tremble violently due to overstimulation, breath stuttering.

“You look so fucked out,” You laugh breathlessly, hips softly grinding to ride out your climax. “Still fuckin’ hot when you’re all dumb n’ mindless.”

Petting his disheveled hair, a soft contented hum leaves Ben as he closed his eyes and nuzzled to your touch. The entire erotic sight of his hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, tears staining his cheeks, hazy look across his eyes, and swollen lips sends amusement and satisfaction through your veins — you definitely fucked whatever self-loathing thoughts he’s had out of his head.

Having completely spilled inside him, you moved to pull out only for Ben to groan in protest. “Stay the fuck in,” He grumbled, panting to catch his breath.

“I need to clean us up, love.” You gently say, but kept yourself sheathed inside him as your lips attach to his neck. “Wanna take care of you properly.”

Ben quietly sighs in content, “You already do.” Before he tilts his head to capture you in a passionate kiss. You slowly pull out of him in amidst of the moment, holding his face and reciprocating with equal passion.

He breathes low and heavy when you start to wipe him up with a wet towel you magically conjured up, running it across his body gently as your other hand massaged his sore hip with such tenderness. Your eyes taking in every part of his physique feels much more innocent now compared to before, deep appreciation and subtle awe flashing across your irises the more you stare, which causes his cheeks to tint slightly. You find it adorable how shy or embarrassed he gets whenever you look at him like he’s something born out of the stars in contrast to the overinflated cockiness he displays when others compliment him; it just proves he feels different, more special with you.

You shoot him a gentle smile that makes his brain shut down and his heart jump.

Christ on a cross, just what did you fucking reduce him into?

“Will you marry me?” The words had left his mouth before he could even process.

You froze, eyes wide as you snapped your gaze to him at the same time his own widened in shock. Fuck, did he just say what he thinks he did? After you fucked him ‘til he couldn’t even speak properly? God, his legs feel wobbly after all that delicious pounding of your dick in his tight little—

His distracting thoughts were interrupted by your hands cupping his cheeks and forcing him to look at you. There’s a bit of doubt lingered across your expression, worried that you mistakenly heard him, and Ben’s gaze softened. “Will you marry me?” He repeats quietly this time with genuine emotion, wiping away your worry.

Excitement and happiness seem to explode within you as you beam; “Yes! Fuck, yes, I’ll marry you.” However, your smile slowly deflates and a foreign look of insecurity replaces the joy surrounding you. “Are you… are you sure? You’re not pushing yourself?”

Confusion spreads across his face, “Why would you think I am?”

“It’s just not that easy to break away from all the homophobia, love.” You softly remind him. “You’re still having a hard time accepting it, could barely even call yourself the right term. You’re afraid, and that’s fine. We can continue on like this. You don’t have to marry me because you feel obligated to.”

Ben frowns, his hand pulling you down to the mattress at his side as he props up on his elbow and stares at you incredulously. “You think I wanna fucking marry you just ‘cause I’m guilty about hiding this? Did it ever occur to you that I actually fuckin’ love you?”

You smile to yourself; what a long way it took for him to just be able to admit that. At least he’s letting himself know he can be vulnerable with you now, compared to when he was convinced you’ll despise his inner self — a big fucking pussy, he says — and completely shut himself off in the beginning.

“Hey,” He grabs your chin to make you pay attention. “I know I still don’t do enough to show you, but I do. I really fucking do, baby.”

You look into his captivating green eyes for a second before releasing a deep breath, “I know. Trust me, you don’t have to do enough to show it, I can already tell. And I love you too.”

Ben nods and kisses your lips, lying down beside you. Your hand instinctually attaches to his waist, caressing his soft skin and shooting warmth throughout his body.

He can’t help but stare at your features, the way you look different now from how you looked at the party you crashed earlier. A certain amount of coldness, hostility and displeasure usually lurked your expression in a daily manner — hidden behind the undeniable charisma and obnoxious arrogance — directed at others that told exactly what their worth to you was; nothing. Ben hasn’t seen a day you were even remotely pleased by someone in the long years of knowing you, the people who attempted to get in your good graces often ended up screwing everything up instead and irritating you enough to kill them off.

But with him, you wouldn’t even spare him a cold glance. Your gaze twinkling with a pleasant spark, always warm, always comforting, always proud. God forbid you look at him with hatred like you’re supposed to. So affectionate for a man who’s been named after the Devil by the idiotic public that only sees what you let them see.

It is then had Ben realised; to him, true love is you.

True love is when you embrace a part of him that he deems undesirable, mend his broken soul, and melt the ice of deep rooted trauma surrounding his heart — it is when Soldier Boy doesn’t drive you away from seeing Benjamin, an ordinary boy from South Philadelphia who desperately wanted to make his father proud. You see them as one, as equally significant parts of him.

Good fucking Lord, he was a gigantic imbecile if he didn’t want to marry you, even if the idea still makes him feel quite… odd. Fuck’s sake, he really needs to learn how to deal with this homophobia bullshit, doesn’t he?

Ben licks his lips anxiously, reluctance plastered on his face. “I… I actually got the rings,” He hesitantly admitted.

Your eyes widened. “You did?”

“I- Jesus Christ, of course I did! I know I don’t fucking do shit like that, okay?” He snapped before quietly muttering, “Just wanted you to believe me when I propose.”

“I do,” You don’t miss to give him comfort, grabbing his hand. Ben’s nerves soothes at your touch. “I just thought we still have a long way to go and you need more time to figure yourself out.”

He shakes his head, “Gotta claim you before some fucker decides you’re free for them.”

“Yeah?” You smirked, raising one eyebrow. “Could’ve gone with a collar, y’know. It would get your point straight across. Plus, it’s more visible.” Tapping your neck to emphasise, which made Ben swallow.

Yeah, you’ll look good with a collar in his colour. You can even wear both. That’ll definitely get his point across to anyone that even looks at you. Maybe next time, he decides.

A mischievous smirk spreads across his lips, “That’ll fucking work best. Think I could put a leash on you too?” He teased, letting out a chuckle and sliding his hand up to your neck and hold you there.

“Mhm, fuck yes,” You almost purred from how pleased you were at the idea.

Ben laughs, lightly squeezing your neck in affection before turning around to rummage through the cabinet on the side of your bed, pulling out a velvet box that’s in the shade of his green. You could tell he was enthusiastic and overwhelmed with emotions from the way his hands slightly trembled, though you made no mention of it to avoid bursting his adorable bubble.

His grin was as bright as the sun on a sunny day when the ring perfectly fits around your finger, already snuggling comfortably on your skin and bringing a weight of new purpose in life. You slip the other ring on his as well, feeling the entanglement of your destiny with one another, the red strings of fate on both of your pinky fingers thickening. It’s a sacred oath that ties you to each other forever.

Warmth spreads around your chest at the fact it’s his first time giving you a gift and it’s something so unexpectedly intimate. A silver engagement ring with a ruby in his shade of green and his name engraved on the inner side; practically a part of his soul, settling itself home around your finger. You shift your gaze to the one he wears — the same silver ring but with a dark red ruby instead, your signature colour, and you assume also have your name engraved on the inner side as well.

A big, significant step for a man who’s constantly afraid of what others think about him, and you couldn’t be more prouder.

Lying back down on the bed together, Ben turns his back on you and scoots closer to your chest, making you smile when he grabbed your wrist to pull your arm over his torso. He always loved being hugged by you from behind despite the fact he’ll never admit it out loud; as much as it sounds pathetic and unmanly, he doesn’t argue with himself of how it gives him safety and protection from the harsh judgmental world. Being in your arms always dissipated the cruel words of his father carved in his mind.

You gently pulled him closer to your body and pressed a kiss on his shoulder blade. “Don’t have to rush about coming out, love. It’ll take more than a simple courage to be open about something considered taboo by our society. You’re still dealing with personal issues, we’ll focus on that for now.”

Ben’s heart warms at your consideration, unable to resist the urge to stick to you like a glue as he leans back on your chest. “How the fuck did you do it? This feels like a pain in the fucking ass,” He muttered disdainfully, though there was a hint of willingness in his tone, like he’s willing to make an effort just for you.

You shrugged, “m’not exactly shaped by my childhood trauma, Benji, and I didn’t like my parents that much. Never really gave a fuck about somethin’ that has no benefit to my life whatsoever.”

“Entitled asshole,” He laughs.

“So are you,” You teased, making you both erupt in loud laughter.

I could get used to this, Ben thinks as genuine happiness glows bright in his heart, your love anchoring him and providing a solid land for him to stand on. Dealing with his own problems doesn’t sound so bad when you’re there for him every step of the way. With your protective arms around his body, both Soldier Boy and Benjamin knew their heart will always be safe with you.

For once, Ben believes he can finally learn to create a family of his own.

Until disaster struck and life suddenly decides to not be fair on someone as fucked up as him — ripping his world apart into shreds in the form of coward, betraying bastards known as his fucking teammates.

1K notes · View notes

sweettu1ips · 3 months ago

Text

PAIGE BUECKERS x FEM!READER

REQUEST: Can you do one where Paige and get gf get caught making out (or full on doing it) in one of the team facilities and they get bullied (in all good faith) for the entire day but the next day they show up with hickeys on their necks and the whole team including coaches see and teammates make fun of them. Later in the day they see hickeys on their thighs and asked crazy questions again and do not let it go | request here

WARNING(S): (18+) slight smut ⋮ oral (r!receiving) ⋮ hickeys on neck + thighs ⋮ making out ⋮ getting caught ⋮ teasing ⋮ established relationship ⋮ think that's all ..

WORD COUNT: 4.9K

| MAIN MASTER LIST |

THE GYM STILL PULSED with the ghost of motion, the energy of the game clinging to the air like an echo that refused to fade.

The sharp squeak of sneakers on polished hardwood still lingered in my ears, phantom footsteps chasing each other across the court.

The overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting long shadows that stretched and swayed as if they, too, were reluctant to let the night end.

The air was thick—humid with the weight of bodies in motion, steeped in the sharp, briny scent of sweat and adrenaline.

It wrapped around us, a heady mixture of exertion and something else, something less tangible but more intoxicating. Something unspoken yet undeniable.

Laughter and chatter rippled through the gym as teammates gathered their things, shoving each other playfully, shoulders bumping, voices overlapping.

The scent of worn leather and cooling skin mixed with the artificial sweetness of sports drinks, the occasional pop of a water bottle cap punctuating the noise. One by one, they trickled out, disappearing into the night, the open world waiting to swallow them whole.

But not us.

Paige and I lingered, the pretense of duty draped loosely over us like a threadbare excuse. Gathering stray basketballs, stacking neon cones, looping resistance bands over our arms—movements automatic, practiced, but our minds were elsewhere.

The silence between us wasn’t empty; it was charged, humming with the friction of something unspoken but growing louder with every second.

It had started during practice, or maybe even before that. The slow, burning awareness of each other, the weight of her gaze when she thought I wasn’t looking. The brush of her fingers against my back, my waist, my hip—each touch fleeting but deliberate, setting my skin ablaze in ways a full game never could.

This wasn’t just cleanup.

This was stalling.

Dragging out these last few moments before the inevitable pull became impossible to resist.

Every stolen glance, every fleeting brush of her fingertips had been kindling to a fire that had long since ignited—its embers buried beneath my skin, glowing, crackling, spreading like molten honey through my veins.

Heat curled in the pit of my stomach, thick and insistent, twisting like smoke from a slow-burning wick, waiting for the moment it would finally catch, finally consume.

Even now, as I stood gripping a stack of disc cones, I could feel the weight of her gaze—heavy, dragging over me like a painter’s brush, tracing every line, every curve with a deliberate slowness.

Mapping the length of my legs, the dip of my waist, the way my sweat-slicked shorts clung to me like a second skin.

Paige wasn’t just looking. She was studying. Committing me to memory in a way that sent a sharp, thrilling ache curling between my ribs.

"Are you even listening?" I narrowed my eyes, placing the cones inside the storage room, my voice sharper than I intended, though it did nothing to break her focus.

Paige didn’t answer.

Instead, she moved—fluid, intentional, her every step humming with a quiet sort of control that made my breath catch. Her hands, warm and unyielding, found my wrist, her grip sending a jolt of anticipation up my arm, down my spine. She tugged me into the narrow hall, the space suddenly feeling too small, too charged, her body a live wire against mine.

Her eyes flickered around, scanning for stragglers, but the way her fingers tightened just slightly around my wrist told me everything.

I knew that look.

And I knew exactly where this was going.

And then, before I could even shape her name into something solid, before the thought of resistance could form, she was moving—swift and sure, pushing open the locker room door, guiding me inside with a silent kind of urgency that sent a sharp thrill down my spine.

The heavy door swung shut behind us, the world outside fading into nothing but muffled echoes, leaving only the pulse of her presence, the charged air stretching taut between us.

“Paige—”

I barely breathed it, barely formed the syllables before my back met cold wood, the shock of it biting through the heat coiling in my veins.

The wooden locker bench rattled behind me, a hollow clang swallowed by the hush of the room, by the press of her body against mine—so warm, so solid, so devastatingly close.

The air crackled between us, thick with something unspoken, something waiting to snap. My skin burned, every nerve alive with the anticipation of her touch, every cell in my body tuned to her. And then—

Then, she kissed me.

It was reckless, molten, a kiss that stole the breath from my lungs and replaced it with fire. Her lips crashed into mine, not tentative, not teasing, but claiming. A collision of want and heat, of something that had been simmering too long, finally spilling over.

The weight of her against me, the way her hands grasped at my hips like she couldn’t stand the distance—God, it was intoxicating.

I gasped into her mouth, fingers clutching at the fabric of her jersey, dragging her closer, needing more, needing her in a way that felt primal. But it still wasn’t enough.

I needed her like a body needs air. Like fire needs oxygen to burn.

I let my hands slip beneath the edge of her jersey, fingertips grazing the soft warmth of her skin, pulling it up slowly as if I could feel every inch of her body alive beneath my touch.

The smooth curve of her waist, the hard lines of muscle beneath, each shift of her body beneath my hands made me ache with a need that settled low in my belly. Every ridge, every dip of her form seemed to hum against my skin.

A shiver ran through Paige, sharp and electric, as my fingers traced the contours of her body.

The quiet groan that rose from her chest vibrated through me like a low hum, something primal, something desperate, and it cut through the haze of wanting, striking me like a blade to the heart.

My own pulse quickened, blood rushing to my ears, the ache inside me sharp and deep.

And then—without warning—I was lifted.

Paige’s hands slid beneath my thighs, strong and steady, lifting me effortlessly as though I weighed nothing at all. My back left the cool, hard wood of the lockers, and I was weightless for a moment—caught in the air, held in her arms.

Her strength was a kind of magic, and when she set me down on the couch, I could feel the weight of her presence settling between my legs. Her body pressed into mine, full of warmth and heat, every inch of her against me—so close that my head spun, my breath shallow and ragged.

The pressure of her, the force of her body moving against mine, made my chest tighten with a craving so raw it nearly stole the air from my lungs.

Her lips left mine, trailing a path of fire down my jaw, each kiss a whispered promise, each breath a silent plea. Her mouth found the curve of my neck, her breath warm and soft, sending shivers skittering across my skin.

She paused at my pulse, lips brushing, then pressing firmly as she sucked—tender, then teasing, then possessive in a way that made my body arch instinctively towards her.

I gasped, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, not caring if she could hear my desperate need in the way I tugged at her, urging her deeper into me. A sigh slipped from her lips, vibrating against my skin, and I felt it all the way down to my bones.

Goosebumps rippled along my skin in the wake of her touch, each fingertip leaving a trail of fire and ice in its wake, as if her hands were both a balm and a blaze.

The contrast was sharp—cool, electrifying shivers meeting the molten heat pooling low in my stomach, a tension so thick it pulled tight across my chest.

My hands roamed the wide expanse of her back, tracing every sinew, every curve, as though trying to memorize the way her muscles moved beneath soft skin. I felt the subtle shift of her posture, the delicate flex of her body as she adjusted, as she pressed closer, her breath mingling with mine.

Each movement was deliberate, every inch of contact like a silent conversation—an exchange of yearning and promise.

We were caught in the tide of something that wasn’t just lust, wasn’t just the desperate need of bodies craving each other.

No, it was thicker than that, heavier—like a dark, intoxicating storm that rolled in without warning, flooding me with a desire that felt like drowning, but in the best way possible.

The ache in my chest, the throbbing pull in my veins, was more than just physical. It was the quiet desperation to feel her, to be with her, to lose myself in the space where she and I collided. We were fire and fuel, each breath a flame that threatened to consume us whole.

When Paige’s lips found mine again, it was slower, deeper—an unraveling.

The kiss wasn’t frantic; it was a quiet, lingering hunger, a study of each other’s mouth, of the rhythm we created, of the way our bodies knew how to bend and fit together, like two puzzle pieces that had been waiting their entire lives to meet.

Each brush of her lips was a gentle claim, a slow unraveling of tension that had been wound too tight. My hands tangled in her hair, urging her closer, needing the weight of her against me, needing to feel the full depth of her hunger.

My lungs burned, but I didn’t care.

Paige wasn’t just my breath.

She was the wildfire consuming me, turning everything to ash and desire, leaving only the scorched remnants of myself behind.

Paige’s back was faced towards the door, her body a steady, comforting presence against mine. We were so lost in each other, the touch of her hands, the press of her lips, the weight of her gaze—that everything else in the world faded away.

The hum of the gym, the sounds of our teammates disappearing into the distance, the lingering burn in our muscles—all of it dissolved into the quiet intimacy of the locker room.

We were cocooned in our own world, where nothing existed but the electric pulse of our skin against each other.

The only sound was the rhythmic thumping of our hearts, syncing in a frantic dance that echoed through the silence, our bodies swaying as if guided by some magnetic pull.

But then came the footsteps.

A faint shuffle at first, barely perceptible, but loud enough to snap us back to reality, to shatter the fragile bubble we had created. The sound of sneakers against tile grew louder, sharper, like a warning bell ringing in the distance. Panic flared up in my chest, sudden and hot.

Before I could process the rush of alarm, the door slammed open with a loud crack that felt like it shattered the space between us.

The sound echoed in the room, jarring us from the fragile cocoon we had woven around ourselves.

My body jerked back, nearly losing balance, but Paige’s hands were like fire on my waist, quick and strong, anchoring me as I crashed into her.

Her breath hitched in shock, her eyes wide with surprise, but there was a flash of something else too—anger, protective and fierce—as she twisted around, her gaze sharpening into a glare, directed at the intruder as if daring them to even think about encroaching on our space.

Her posture was all fire, like a lioness ready to protect her territory, and I felt the power of it settle deep in my chest. The room felt smaller now, but it wasn’t the tightness of walls—no, it was the weight of being caught, of being exposed, that made the air thicken.

We pulled apart, hearts still racing, our faces flushed with the rush of embarrassment and the remnants of heat we couldn’t shake.

But when our eyes found the source of the interruption, it wasn’t anger we felt—it was an awkward jolt of vulnerability.

Our friends stood in the doorway, their wide eyes taking in the scene, none of them saying a word, but their grins spoke volumes. Ice, ever the instigator, raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly, knowing smile.

My heart was pounding, and I could feel the heat creeping up my neck, my cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and confusion.

The air between us was thick, suffocating with the pressure of what had just been interrupted, but the doorframe suddenly filled with the faces of our friends—wide-eyed, mouths agape.

And then Ice’s voice cut through the tension, teasing, light but pointed, as her grin stretched across her face like a wolf circling prey.

“I’m sorry, were you two...?” she drawled, her voice dripping with mischief as she let the question hang in the air. The rest of the team filed in behind her, already laughing, already knowing—too much, too soon.

“Nothing happened!” I shot back instantly, the words tumbling out too quickly, too defensively. My face burned, hotter than anything Paige had made me feel just moments before.

“Nothing, huh?” Sarah’s voice was laced with playful challenge as she gave us a knowing, half-smirk. “We’ll just tell Coach then, no big deal.”

“Shut up!” Paige muttered, her voice thick with laughter that didn’t quite cover the surprise still rattling through her. She tried to brush it off, but it was clear—she was as flustered as I was, and the teasing was only beginning.

Azzi’s voice rang out across the room, teasing and loud, almost playful enough to pierce through the tension.

“You guys are so cute,” she teased, the words thick with a mix of affection and mockery. “Kissing in the locker room like it’s a rom-com!”

“Yeah, how long have you two been sneaking around, huh? Making out after practice?” KK’s voice joined in, her grin cheeky, her wink a clear challenge.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, leaning into Paige’s side for support, her warmth grounding me even as the teasing escalated.

She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer, her own quiet laugh vibrating against my ear as we tried to cover the embarrassment we both felt.

But the teasing didn’t stop there. It continued in small bursts—every casual glance from across the room felt like a spotlight, every whisper coated in an undertone of knowing.

The rest of the team didn’t let up. For the rest of the day, we were the subject of every whispered conversation, every sly look, every playful jab.

It was harmless, all in good fun—but still, the intensity of it all made us feel like the center of a universe we hadn’t meant to create.

THE NEXT DAY:

Last night had been something out of a fever dream—clothes flung carelessly across the room, the lingering scent of sweat and skin, the remnants of our desperation painted in bruises along our bodies.

Every inch of me ached, a slow burn of pleasure and exertion coiling beneath my skin, a testament to the way we had taken each other apart, piece by piece, only to put ourselves back together again.

But the morning… the morning was no different.

A slow, building sensation—warmth pooling low in my belly, something slick and wet teasing against the most sensitive part of me.

Even in the haze of sleep, it sent shivers up my spine. My breath hitched, my legs twitching beneath the sheets as pleasure stirred me from the edges of unconsciousness.

Then came the first real stroke of her tongue, languid, deliberate. My hips jerked slightly, a moan slipping past my parted lips.

“Oh, fuck—” My voice was rough with sleep, my fingers blindly searching for something—anything—to hold onto as my body arched against the touch.

My eyelids fluttered open, the dim light of morning spilling through the curtains, and there she was. Paige, mouth hot and eager against my folds, licking into me like a woman possessed.

She pulled back just enough to press a kiss to the inside of my thigh, her breath warm against my damp skin.

“Good morning, baby.”

Her voice was thick with amusement, smug and knowing, before she dove back in, this time wrapping her lips around my clit and sucking, sending a jolt of electricity straight through me.

My back arched off the mattress, a sharp gasp tearing from my throat, my hands tangling in the sheets.

I kicked off the duvet, the fabric pooling at my waist, revealing Paige in all her sinful glory—hair twisted into a messy bun, blue eyes locked onto mine, her mouth glistening with me.

My legs were thrown over her strong shoulders, her grip bruising against my thighs as she held me open for her, completely at her mercy.

And God, she looked starved.

"M’sorry," she groaned, voice muffled as her lips pressed deeper against me, her mouth hot and unrelenting.

The apology was empty—pointless—because the moment her tongue flattened and dragged through my folds, all I could do was arch into her, thighs trembling.

A shuddering gasp tore from my lips as the vibration of her words rippled through me. "Got hungry, baby," she murmured, her grip on my hips loosening just enough to tease me with the absence. One hand left its place, drifting lower, a featherlight caress against my entrance that had me keening.

And then—Paige filled me.

Two fingers, warm and deft, stretched me open with a slow, deliberate thrust, the kind that sent a sharp, needy cry tumbling from my lips. My breath hitched, nails clawing into the sheets as pleasure curled low and deep, winding through me like a live wire.

"Please," I gasped, voice shaking, body trembling against her.

She didn’t make me wait. Paige was never cruel like that. Her fingers curled inside me, finding that devastating spot with a precision so sharp, so consuming, that my vision blurred at the edges.

A white-hot rush seared through my spine, my back arching off the mattress as my legs quivered beneath her touch.

"Right there," I moaned, voice raw, desperate. "Right there, baby."

She hummed in satisfaction, her lips never straying far from where she wanted to worship me.

Open-mouthed kisses burned along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, her tongue flicking over the heat she left behind before she latched on, sucking slow, deep, claiming.

A moan spilled from my lips as I felt it—the mark she was leaving, a deep bloom of purple, a whisper of her possession etched into my skin.

"Paige!" I cried out, my hips jerking when she finally—finally—attached her lips to my swollen clit. The sensation was instant, electric.

The dual assault of her mouth and fingers—sucking, stroking, curling—had me spiraling, toes curling into the sheets as heat pooled molten in my belly.

My thighs tensed around her head, every muscle locking up, strung tight with the unbearable need for release.

My walls clenched around her fingers, desperate, unrelenting, pulling her deeper.

A strangled sound ripped from my throat as my head fell back, drowning in it, lost in her.

"Ugh—baby, I’m so close," I whimpered, voice breaking, pleasure surging in waves. "Please—please, don’t stop."

"Come for me, princess," Paige murmured, her voice dark, coaxing, dripping with sinful intent.

And I did.

The coil inside me snapped, pleasure bursting like a tidal wave, swallowing me whole.

My back arched, lips parting on a silent scream as the world around me dissolved into nothing but heat, touch, and the sweet, unbearable pulse of release.

My thighs trembled, my body wracked with aftershocks as Paige worked me through it—her fingers slowing, her tongue soothing, kissing away the remnants of my pleasure until I was nothing but a boneless, trembling mess beneath her.

I gasped, shuddering as I came down, my mind hazy, limbs heavy, completely undone. The room was thick with warmth, with the scent of us, with the lingering echo of my moans still ghosting through the air.

Still catching my breath, I reached for her, pulling her up—bringing her close. Paige hovered above me, her lips glossy, eyes dark, watching me with a knowing smirk.

But I wasn’t done.

With a lazy, satisfied grin, I rolled us over, pressing her into the mattress, my hands already trailing down, teasing, promising.

"Your turn," I purred, voice still wrecked from what she had done to me.

Then, without another word, I disappeared beneath the duvet—ready to return the favor.

"Morning, y’all," Paige greeted smoothly as we stepped into the gym, her voice dripping with the same ease and confidence she always carried.

But this morning, that nonchalance felt almost too casual—like she hadn’t woken up and stared at the same damning evidence on her neck that I had on mine.

The second we crossed the threshold, the air in the gym shifted. Conversations stumbled to a halt, laughter simmered down, and a thick, buzzing silence settled in its place.

It wasn’t the usual quiet before practice, nor was it the exhausted lull after a hard workout. This was the kind of silence that comes before a storm.

And then—like a fuse finally catching fire—it spread.

Smirks ignited on familiar faces, creeping across lips that barely tried to hold back amusement.

Eyes flickered between Paige and me, scanning, assessing, then zeroing in with a focus so sharp I felt it like a brand against my skin.

Azzi. KK. Sarah. Ice. And—oh, for the love of God—now Aubrey, too.

Goddamn it, Ice and her big-ass mouth.

There was a certain mischief in their gazes, their smirks widening as they took in something Paige and I clearly hadn’t noticed yet. A slow, prickling heat climbed the back of my neck, my stomach twisting with unease.

Paige and I exchanged a glance. Confused. Searching. Unspoken words flickering between us.

And then I saw it. Or rather, I felt it.

A dull ache where her lips had pressed against my neck last night, kissing, sucking, marking. And the realization hit me like a slap.

Shit.

The matching bruises. The unmistakable evidence of last night’s reckless hands and wandering lips, still stamped across our skin like ink that refused to fade.

I didn’t even have time to react before KK’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“Oh, it definitely was a good morning, huh?” KK smirked.

"Guess you two didn’t just kiss yesterday," Ice hollered, her voice ringing through the gym like a gunshot.

A wolfish grin stretched across her face as she pointed directly at our necks. "More like… full-on making out, huh?"

Laughter exploded around us, bouncing off the gym walls, each chuckle and cackle making the heat in my face burn even hotter.

Azzi let out a low whistle. "Damn, y’all couldn’t wait till after practice?"

KK snorted, elbowing Sarah. "That’s why they volunteered to clean up last night. Thought they were being slick."

Sarah shook her head with a smirk. "More like sloppy. Y’all didn’t even try to cover it up."

Aubrey, of all people, chimed in with a teasing grin. "At least pretend to be ashamed."

And Paige?

Paige had the audacity to smirk.

She loved this. Thrived in it.

She simply shrugged, all lazy confidence, like she wasn’t the reason I was currently dying of secondhand embarrassment.

"Jealous?" she drawled, the smirk in her voice just as clear as the one on her face.

A collective groan. Eye rolls. KK threw a towel at her. A chorus of “oh, shut up, Paige.”

I buried my face in my hands, groaning as the teasing escalated, but even through my fingers, I could feel Paige’s eyes on me. Not just watching—devouring, savoring, enjoying every second of my suffering.

And across the gym, CD finally glanced up.

Her gaze flickered over us, cool and unreadable, before settling back down, like she were choosing peace instead of engaging in whatever the hell was happening. But it didn’t matter. The damage was done.

This wasn’t just any morning at practice.

We could pretend we had walked in like normal. We could act like nothing had changed.

But the proof was already there, written in bruises and smirks and the way Paige’s fingers brushed against mine like last night wasn’t enough.

And judging by the way our teammates were still grinning, teasing, and whispering, they weren’t going to let this go anytime soon… again.

My body was a canvas of aching muscles and fatigue by the time practice ended. Each movement felt like a betrayal, the weight of the day pressing into my bones, the sting of every drill lingering in my skin.

Geno’s harsh words were still burned into my mind, his voice echoing like a drumbeat, demanding more—more effort, more focus. He’d been relentless today, his critiques like sharp stones, each one sinking deeper than the last.

And then there were the girls—constant teasing, their laughter ringing in my ears, pulling at the edges of my patience. Nothing, absolutely nothing, had gone my way today.

I tried to shake it off, willing the exhaustion to loosen its grip on me, but before I could even gather my thoughts, Geno’s voice cut through the air again, sharp and direct.

“Y/N.”

My name bounced off the walls like a sudden storm, filling the empty gym with a weight I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

I turned, locking eyes with him, trying to steady my breath. His gaze was different now, less harsh, almost softened by the weariness of the day.

He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar gesture signaling that he was about to say something important—something that, for once, might actually make me feel like I wasn’t just the target of his frustrations.

“You know I push you because I believe in you, right?” His voice was quieter now, more personal, like he was trying to reach through the tension between us, to calm the storm in both of us.

I let out a breath, slow and controlled, nodding. “I know.” And I did. I knew he was tough on me because he expected the best. Because he believed I could handle it, even when I felt like I was breaking.

But today... today had felt different. The weight of every word, every move, it had all piled on, and no matter how hard I tried, it was impossible to shake it.

The gym was emptying out now, the sound of bag zippers, shoes squeaking on the floor, and quiet chatter filling the space.

I bent down to grab my bag, my fingers brushing against the cold floor as I tried to push all the noise from my head. But then, behind me, a sharp gasp broke through the hum of the room.

“Oh my god…”

It was Paige’s voice, thick with disbelief, and the instant she spoke, the whole world seemed to stop. I froze. I didn’t even need to turn around. I already knew what she was staring at.

The marks. The dark, unmistakable hickeys on my thighs.

I swallowed hard, my heart stuttering in my chest. No. No, not now. Not here.

Azzi’s voice rang out, light and teasing, as if she’d just found the greatest treasure. “No way,” she said, her words drawing a sharp laugh from the rest of the team.

“You guys are out here with hickeys on your thighs now? What’s next? A map of your entire body?”

And just like that, the weight of my embarrassment crashed into me, a flood of heat rushing to my face. I wanted to disappear. To sink into the floor and never come back. But of course, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Stop it!” I groaned, half-laughing, half-wincing. The teasing was relentless, each word digging deeper, a playful but pointed reminder of my private life spilling out into the open. “You’re making it worse!”

Sarah stepped forward, arms crossed, her expression dramatic and serious, but her eyes sparkling with humor.

“Where’s the line, huh?” she asked, her voice dripping with mock concern. “Are we gonna see them on your backs tomorrow?”

The entire team erupted into laughter, the sound of it echoing in the gym, bouncy and light, as if the day’s weight had been lifted by this moment of shared chaos.

Even our coaches, who’d been trying so hard to stay professional, couldn’t hold back a chuckle under their breath.

Paige stood next to me, her face a mirror of my own—exasperated, embarrassed, but also unable to do anything but laugh with the team. We exchanged a glance, our eyes saying everything without a word.

This was the price we paid for trying to keep something private in a world that was far too eager to share it.

And yet, there was something freeing about it too. Every time they found a new angle to tease us, every time the jokes started back up, it felt less like an invasion and more like a badge of honor. We had earned this moment. We were owning it, because what else could we do?

The teasing didn’t stop, but neither did we. And as the laughter rang in my ears, I realized it wasn’t the worst thing in the world after all.

…or maybe it was.

requests are open! Also just wanted to say that I loved writing this <3

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x fem!reader #paige bueckers imagines #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x you #paige bueckers x y/n #paige bueckers smut

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healmydesires · 9 months ago

Note

Ok so the recent post that you made on my filthy thot Logan how about you take the led of dominance one night instead of Logan and he absolutely loves it

a/n: nonnie, this is sooooo hot. I kinda had to adjust it a bit tho <3 hope you don’t mind! thank you for sending this!!! 🩷 mwah

you got my attention ꕤ (l.h)

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

summary: Though Logan lets you take control and show your appreciation, in the end, you're still the one begging for him.

genre: smut (with some fluff in the end tbh) (18+ mdni)

word count: 5,8k

warnings/tags: established relationship, same universe as this fic, porn with barely no plot, reader is described as shorter than logan, lap dance, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, sub!reader, use of handcuffs, slight choking, dry humping, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, slight orgasm denial / edging but it’s short ngl, overstimulation, face sitting, doggy, rough sex, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk. some daddy kink? breeding kink fuck sorry. I wrote this while I’m on my period lol. lots of pet names. this is high key filthy. reader has hair, no further description though. after care. this is not beta read sorry!

this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3

AO3 • masterlist

You're sitting on the bed you share with Logan, waiting for him to enter the bedroom where you're dressed in soft, pastel lilac lace lingerie. You've been intimate with Logan many times before, so you know what to expect, but this time feels a little different. Your heart is racing, and you're feeling a bit anxious. Logan usually takes control in the bedroom, but tonight, you've been wondering what it would be like if you were the one to take the lead.

If there's one thing you love doing, it's teasing Logan. You thrive on the thrill of acting out just to get a reaction from him, and you enjoy being a brat more than anything. You love being submissive, and there's nothing you'd rather be.

But the thought of making him feel like you're in control, even if only for a few minutes, gets you all hot and bothered. You know Logan might take back control quickly, but just having that moment of power excites you.

You’ve always thought that stripping for Logan or putting on a show would be something fun to try one night. The idea of showing him how much you appreciate him by dancing to sensual music while he sits back on a chair or the couch, watching your body move, excites you. Just thinking about it makes you feel hot and turned on.

Logan’s entrance pulls you out of your thoughts as the door swings open. His eyes lock on you immediately, taking in the sight of the delicate lingerie clinging to your skin. “Hi, pretty girl,” he says with a playful smile, clearly appreciating the little fabric you're wearing.

The lingerie you’re wearing is a lilac set with turquoise and lilac flowers embroidered onto the lace. The cups of your balconette bra are pretty transparent unless it’s for the floral details at the top to the middle of the cups, barely covering your nipples. You can see his eyes travel from your chest to your waist as he takes in the elastic band, covered with the same lace pattern, of the suspenders. His eyes linger a bit too long as he takes in the small thing that barely hides the curves of your ass. A matching thong, the elastic band sitting just below your suspenders. Logan’s eyes wander from your covered core to your shoulders as he notices the lilac see through robe with lacy details hanging off your shoulders loosely.

“Hi,” you manage to respond, your voice soft and trembling. Your cheeks heating up as his intense gaze travels up and down your body, sending a wave of warmth through you. For a brief second, you feel the familiar pull to submit, to let him take control like always. But then you remind yourself to stick to your original intentions.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Sticking to your original plan, you clear your throat and muster the courage to speak, despite the stutter. “C-could you, uh, sit in the chair?” You ask, nervously. Logan raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your request.

An amused smile then tugs at the corners of his lips as he nods briefly, surprised but clearly understanding what you're trying to do. “Are you asking or telling?” Logan teases, his voice smooth, challenging, and dripping with amusement.

The playful tone sends a shiver through you, momentarily shaking your confidence. You know he’s testing you, waiting to see if you’ll follow through. Swallowing the nervousness building inside you, you take a slow, deep breath, determined to stick to your plan, no matter how intimidating his presence feels right now.

His response makes your heart pound in your chest. Mustering up every ounce of confidence you can find, you lock eyes with him and say, “I said go sit in the chair.” The words feel foreign on your tongue, definitely out of character for you, but there's a spark of amusement in Logan's eyes that encourages you to keep going.

You can tell he’s entertained by this rare side of you, and though it feels strange, the thrill of his reaction pushes you to stick with it. His eyebrow raises slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips, and for a moment, you feel a rush of control that excites you even more.

Logan never takes his eyes off you as he makes his way to the chair in the corner of the room. Settling into it, he leans back, his posture relaxed, yet his gaze remains sharp and unwavering. You watch as takes off his shirt and pulls down his jeans, exposing his hard cock pressing against his boxers. The look he gives you, despite your attempt to take control, makes it clear he still holds the power. His mischievous eyes silently tell you he could end your little fantasy whenever he chooses, effortlessly reminding you of who’s really in charge, even as he watches you with quiet anticipation.

Logan watches you walk towards the closet, opening it before you kneel down on the soft carpet in front of it as your hand tries to reach for something inside the closet. His eyes travel to your ass, observing your curves, how plump your ass looks. The way your cheeks squeeze the barely there material between them.

You can practically feel his eyes burning into you—more specifically, your ass—because you know exactly where he's staring. The heat of his gaze makes you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. After rummaging for a moment, you finally find what you’re looking for and stand up slowly, making sure to give Logan a lingering view of your curves. The sound of his low groan reaches your ears, sending a thrill through you. You close the closet doors and turn around, carefully hiding the vivid pink, silky handcuffs you picked up along with the lingerie just days ago.

Keeping the handcuffs tucked behind your back, you walk slowly toward him, not quite ready to reveal your little secret yet. As you reach him, you lean down to plant a soft, teasing kiss on his lips. It ends far too quickly for his liking, and a deep grunt escapes his throat as you pull away, leaving him wanting more. Your hand trails lightly from one of his shoulders, across his chest, to the other, the soft touch of your fingers making his skin feel like it's on fire. You can feel the tension radiating off him, his body almost trembling from the contact, as you circle behind him. You know he could moan from just the simple touch, and the thought of having him on edge excites you even more.

You take the handcuffs, the sound of the metal clinking behind him making Logan’s ears perk up. You hook one around his wrist, half-expecting him to protest, but when he remains silent, you continue and secure the other cuff in place. You lift your head to his neck, leaning down to press a soft kiss at his pulse point, making him moan as you finish up behind him. Walking back to face him, you notice a playful smile spread across his face, a look that makes your heart race.

“What?” you ask, mirroring his amused expression, but a sudden wave of self-consciousness washes over you as you realise he’s not taking you seriously at all.

“Nothing, princess,” Logan shrugs, his grin widening.

You roll your eyes at his nonchalance. “Sure.” Normally, on any other day, Logan would have you pinned beneath him or bent over his knee, spanking you until your skin is flushed and raw. But tonight, he finds it endearing to watch you take charge. So, instead of resisting, he decides to lean into it. In fact, he’s more than willing to let you explore this new dynamic and see just how far you’ll take it.

Then, you lean down and plant a soft kiss just beneath his ear, eliciting a deep groan from him. “Now sit back and watch. Let me take care of you,” you whisper seductively in his ear, your breath warm against his skin. With that, you glide toward the desk, feeling the thrill of anticipation coursing through you as you search for the perfect song to dance to.

A smile spreads across your face as you finally settle on a track that feels just right. Pressing play, the smooth beats of "Sway" by Majid Jordan fill the room, setting the mood with its sultry rhythm. As the music envelops you, you can sense Logan’s eyes on you, filled with a mix of curiosity and desire. The moment feels electric, and you know it’s time to give him a show he won’t forget.

You stride toward the bed, positioning yourself right in the center of the room, directly in front of him. As the singer begins to croon the lyrics, you let the robe slide down your shoulders, pausing just at your elbows, deliberately teasing him with each movement. Swaying your hips slowly to the beat of the song, you lick your lips, feeling the heat of his gaze on you.

With each deliberate motion, your hands glide slowly up and down your chest, accentuating your curves as you keep your eyes locked on his. You circle your hips, letting the rhythm guide you, fully aware of the effect it has on him. The air is thick with tension, and you can feel the desire radiating from him, fueling your confidence as you embrace the moment.

Temptation, conversation, I hear what you sayin'~♪

You lose yourself to the song as you move your body closer to his, still keeping a good distance between you two.

“Baby girl, you’re so hot…” Logan groans as his eyes admire your body, his eyes flicking back and forth from one place to the other like he doesn’t know where to look.

Playing safe but we're losing our patience~♪

With each sway (literally, like the title of the song) of your hips, you move to the rhythm of the song, feeling the music pulse through you as you notice his gaze tracing the curves of your body, lingering over every dip and contour.

The combination of his awestruck expression and your confident movements sends a thrill through you, urging you to keep going. You enjoy the way he watches, almost hypnotised, as you revel in the moment, fully aware that you’re in control.

Doin' things that my body is cravin'~♪

Your fingers wander from your hips to your backside and you squeeze your cheeks softly as you give Logan a show. The moment he sees you touching yourself like this, a low moan escapes his lips, and you can’t help but bite your own in response, revelling in the effect you have on him.

The pleasure of his gaze fuels your confidence, making you feel even more desirable. You relish the way he watches, captivated and hungry for more, as you continue to tease him, lost in the thrill of the moment.

So amazing the way that she moves~♪ She's my favorite dancer~♪

Seductively, you slowly turn around, then you sink yourself to the floor. Once on your knees, you crawl steadily towards him. As you’re slowly making your way to him, you’re never breaking eye contact as you smile up at him.

As you draw closer, you rise up onto your knees, your hands gliding along his ankles and tracing up to his thighs. You gently spread his legs wider, making room for yourself between them. Logan's breath hitches in his throat at your boldness, and you can’t help but smile coyly as you bite your bottom lip, savouring his reaction.

Your hands continue their journey, moving from his thighs to his hips and then to his waist, feeling the heat radiating off him. Slowly but sensually, you rise in front of him, each movement deliberate, exuding confidence and allure as you prepare to captivate him even further.

“You’re breathtaking…” he moans your name while your lips move to ghost over his lips. You feel and see his squirm against the hold of the handcuffs.

You smirk as you hover your hips over his lap. Using the music to your advantage, you move your body to the rhythm of the song, making sure to emphasise on your movements. Your arms around his neck as you slowly lower your lower body on his lap, sitting down, your heat against his clothed cock straining against his underwear. Pressing your needy and throbbing clit against his dick. His eyes are gazing into yours, all you can see is lust and desire. You grind against his crotch making Logan groan at your movements. Finally you lean down your lips against his, swallowing his moans in your mouth.

“You’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispers breathily against your lips as you continue your little performance, swaying and grinding your hips against his. You hum with a smile before you capture his lips again.

His mouth moves against yours, slow and passionate. He parts his lips slightly to catch his breath. Your tongue sweeps across Logan’s lips making him gasp, tongue wrapping itself against his a moment later, hot and wet and steady as you taste his mouth and kiss him deeply.

Your tongues slowly swirl and dance against each other as your hands wander all over his body. You feel your core clench around nothing and become even more wet the more you grind against him. You whimper at the feel of him bucking his hips against yours, wrapping your arms around his neck and initiating a hungry kiss. The thong you’re wearing surely ruined by now, clinging against your wet folds.

Soon the music would fade into the background as all you can focus on is him. Logan’s leaning his head forward as much as he can, wanting so badly to grab handfuls of your ass while slipping his tongue into your mouth. He moans into your mouth, biting and sucking on your bottom lip.

You begin to rock your hips against his, dragging your core over his crotch, the friction sending pleasurable sensations coursing through you. However, a wave of self-consciousness washes over you, leaving you unsure about how to proceed. Despite this uncertainty, you continue the movement, instinctively seeking relief for the ache building in your core.

Logan notices the hesitation in your movements, his perceptive gaze catching the flicker of insecurity in your eyes. He starts to thrust his hips against yours, urging you on. “Good girl, you can do it,” he says in his low, deep voice, the words igniting a whimper from your lips as you pick up the pace, guiding your hips a bit faster in response.

“Need you, kitten. Please, I need to feel you. Take these panties off,” he pleads, his tone dripping with desire. You shake your head, refusing to comply, which only draws a chuckle from him as he watches you squirm on top of him.

“I don’t take orders from you. I’ll choose when I want to take them off,” you retort, feeling a thrill of defiance as his eyes wander from your face to your soaked panties. The big wet spot at the front betrays just how much you want his cock filling you up, pushing deep inside and making a mess.

“Just you wait until I’m out of these,” Logan replies, maintaining that boyish smile that makes your heart race. You hardly care about his playful threat; instead, you steady yourself on his shoulders and keep grinding your clit against his clothed cock. He’s right about the panties, but you’re not about to let him dictate the moment. Reaching down, you push the fabric aside, letting your pussy lips glide against him, the contact sending shivers through your body.

“Oh, kitten,” he moans, captivated by the sight of your arousal dripping down onto his underwear. “Look at you.” His low, sultry voice sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the sensation of his throbbing cock against your wetness nearly overwhelming.

“Feels so fucking good,” you cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as waves of pleasure wash over you.

As the pressure builds toward your orgasm, you suddenly stand up, discarding the delicate lingerie that clings to you. As you’re undressing yourself in front of him he can’t help but growl. You glance at him cautiously, as he stares at you hungrily. You’re longing for him to taste you but feeling a hint of embarrassment about taking the initiative. It’s as if he can read your mind when he says, “Go ahead baby girl, let me taste you.” His encouragement sparks a rush of confidence within you, urging you to take control and fully embrace the moment.

His choice of words only heightens your arousal, making it feel as if he’s the one compelling you to act. Logan's cock is oozing with precum, and you can feel the dampness spreading on his underwear as you hook a leg over his shoulder, bringing yourself closer to him.

You stretch a bit uncomfortably in this position, but any discomfort fades away the moment he leans forward and licks from your entrance to the top of your clit.

A loud moan escapes you as his warm, wet tongue finally makes contact with your pussy. You sigh into the sensation, your eyes fluttering shut as you tangle your fingers in his hair, anchoring yourself as you urge him deeper. His tongue glides up your folds, skillfully exploring your puffy lips, occasionally pausing to plant soft kisses on your clit. He encircles your clit and sucks, pulling whimpering pleas from your mouth.

Logan groans against you, sending delicious vibrations coursing through your body as you tug on his hair, lost in the pleasure. You find yourself grinding your hips forward, desperately seeking more contact as your arousal drips down into his beard.

“That’s it, good girl, use my fuckin’ mouth,” he moans against you, taking your clit between his lips and sucking gently. He alternates between sucking it in and releasing it, the repetitive motion making your head spin. “Taste so good.”

“Fuck, Lo—” you whine as you grind yourself against his lips.

Each flick and tug sends you spiralling, and you begin to whine, yearning for his large fingers to fill your tight little hole. Frustration simmers beneath the surface as you slip deeper into that precious sub headspace, becoming acutely aware of his restrained hands. Logan picks up on your shift in mood immediately.

“Please, Lo,” you cry out, desperation lacing your voice. You need him so badly it borders on painful.

“Please, what?” he retorts, then dives his tongue into your clenching hole, making you gasp. He groans, fucking your little pussy with his tongue, his nose brushing tantalizingly over your clit. “This is what you wanted, ain’t that right?”

“F-fuck, ah, I’m gonna c-cum,” you gasp, urgency spilling from your lips instead of a question. The relentless contact of his nose against your sensitive clit pushes you to the edge, and your pussy contracts around his tongue, releasing a wave of pleasure. You scream his name repeatedly, tugging at his hair with a mix of urgency and desperation, your ears ringing as the world around you fades into bliss, unaware of the metal cuffs breaking free.

You can feel his hands on your skin, the heat of your orgasm squirting out of you, painting his mouth beautifully as he continues to feast on your cunt. You breathe heavily as Logan moans loudly at the sweet taste of you, feeling both blissed out and utterly exposed.

You’re still coming down from your high when suddenly, you yelp in surprise as he lifts you with ease, your trembling legs instinctively wrapping around his body. In one fluid motion, Logan throws you onto the bed, and a whine escapes your lips as you feel the familiar neediness surge within you, your pussy so slick and wanting for more.

He pulls his boxers down, letting his erection finally spring free. Logan’s thick and big cock is so hard, dripping with precum and you almost whimper at the sight of it. He then makes his way up to the bed. Situating himself between your legs he smiles deviously.

Oh—

“Get on your hands and knees for me, kitten. I’ll show you who’s in control.”

Your cheeks flare up furiously at his request, you feel your body trembling with excitement as you flip on your stomach, getting on your hands and knees, your face down on the mattress as you raise your ass in the air for him. Logan groans when you wiggle for him, spreading your legs a bit more for him exposing more of your pussy.

You bite your bottom lip and can’t help getting even more aroused as you think about finally having him inside.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby. All dripping wet for me,” he whispers to you and you feel his fingers sliding up and down your slit and then opening your folds for him to see.

You wanted to tell him how he’s the only one that can do this to you, how much you love him, but then he grabs both of your ass cheeks in his hands, parting them as he quickly leans down and licks up your exposed pussy, catching you completely by surprise making you almost fall on the bed, your arms almost giving out on you.

You feel your inner walls clenching around nothing as he keeps licking up and down and sucking on your clit. When you whine, his tongue swirls around your entrance.

“F-fuck, s-so sensitive. Da-daddy please, oh—”

But then he pulls his lips away from your lower ones and you whimper desperately at the loss of the feeling of his tongue, only to have him kiss your lower back and up your spine, hands sliding up and down your body.

“Please,” you whine pathetically.

You can't see it, but he's smiling down at you, shaking his head as he revels in his victory over the battle for control. “What happened, baby? Suddenly you need my help?”

You shake your head yes rapidly, not caring how desperate you look. “Please, please, I’ll be good for you, please. I’ll be your good girl.”

“I thought you wanted to be in control,” he pokes fun at you, his hips not touching as he places soft kisses down your back. You wish he was fucking into you already. You start to whine when you feel his thumb press into your clit. He doesn’t move it at all, just applies slight pressure and lets it rest there. “But you need your daddy, don’t you? You need me so badly. Pathetic little kitty.”

“I-I do,” you gasp, frustrated by his unmoving thumb. Your body is trembling in anticipation. “Please daddy.”

A moment later you feel him grind his thick cock against your dripping heat, you’re aching for him to fill you up. A loud moan fills the room along with your whines, with a strong grip on your hips a second later he eases the tip inside, making you gasp as your whole body trembles.

“Please…” You whine desperately as you feel him halt his movements, a small portion of the tip only inside you. Wiggling your hips you try to push back against him but the strong hold that he has on you makes it hard for you to move.

“Patience baby girl,”

You whimper as he finally slides more and more of his thickness inside of you. You squeeze your eyes tightly as he fills you up. The pressure of his cock deep within your walls overwhelms you while you clutch the sheets below you in tight fists.

“Take it, princess. Take daddy’s cock.”

Then his massive cock is completely splitting you open. Logan thrusts his whole length into you, black dots cover your vision at the feeling of it. Your pussy pulses around him as you struggle to adjust to his size.

“Ah, fuck!” Tears are already dripping down your face onto the mattress. His cock is so big, long and hard and he makes your pussy and tummy feel so full of him.

You whimper at the new angle, struggling to accommodate his impressive girth. It feels as though your pussy can never fully adjust to his size. As your walls squeeze around him, trying to adapt, Logan uses more force to push deeper, stretching you further. The sensation is intense, almost overwhelming, as it feels like you’re being torn open, split in half by his thickness.

“Oh, sweet girl. I’ve got you,” he soothes and starts moving, fucking you at an impossible pace. The sound of your ass slapping against him fills the room along with both of your frantic moans. His heavy balls are hitting against your clit with every thrust. The feeling is heaven on earth.

All you can answer with are moans as they slip off your lips. Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell Logan, breathlessly, about how good he makes you feel. The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more. Logan picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.

You claw at the sheets, burying your face into the mattress to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, you whine as you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his thick cock. He moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, the tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head as you dig your fingers more into the bed, you mewl against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

“F-fuck fuck fuck, this feels so goooohhhood daddy, p-please more…”

“Yeah? You love being filled with all of my cock don’t you?” He grunts as he slaps your ass once, making you cry out in pleasure. Your moans grow louder with each movement, blending with the slick sounds of your pussy meeting his dick over and over again. The sounds mix along with the little noises of pleasure escaping your mouth.

“Does that feel good, pretty girl?” Logan asks as he leans down his body closer to yours making him hit your cervix repeatedly. You whimper and tremble underneath him as you nod, he moans against your ear as he whispers close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you like it.”

“Yes, daddy. Fuck, please… Can I please cum?” you ask this time, completely out of breath.

“No, you little brat,” Logan growls, picking up the pace even more. He grabs you by your hair, jerks your head up and pulls you back towards him. “Patience.”

The delicious thrusts of his cock don’t falter as he presses your back into his chest. He wraps a strong hand around your throat, and the other arm holds you steady by the waist.

“I can’t, I can’t,” you whimper repeatedly, your body trembling with need.

“Oh, I know you can,” he says aggressively. “I know you fuckin’ can. And you will.”

He grinds his hips in circles, and you nearly scream from the overwhelming sensation. You desperately try to hold back the orgasm that's building rapidly, clenching your pussy tightly around his thick cock. He lets out deep moans at the feeling of you, fully aware that he’s close to cumming but wanting to savour your pussy for just a little longer. Logan slows his pace slightly, giving both of you a brief moment to catch your breath before he picks up the rhythm again, quick and rough.

“Look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, fuck, bet you look pretty full of my cum too.” Logan cursed when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “I’m gonna fill this pussy up, kitten, make it all nice and full,” he promises.

The head of his cock rubs against your walls deliciously, snapping you out of your small daze as you nod frantically. “Yes, yesyes please. Fill me up daddy!” You’re whimpering with every thrust of his cock.

“Tell me who’s in control and I’ll let you cum,” he says slowly into your ear, grip around your throat tightening a bit and making the feeling that more intense.

“You, Lo,” you manage to get out, “Always you.”

“Cum on my cock then,” Logan gives you permission. Another few thrusts is all it takes to send you over the edge, shouting out his name as your ears ring from the pressure. You’re on cloud nine as you let your body relax and feel the brutal pounding of his cock. It drags inside of you so perfectly, hitting every sweet spot you have. Your needy cunt is clenching, throbbing, and milking his cock while you cum all over him. Logan groans in your ear as your walls spasm around his cock, milking him for his orgasm, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised. “This pussy was made for me. So fuckin’ tight wrapped around me.”

Your cum drips down both of your legs, coating his cock and balls, quickly forming a wet spot on the sheets beneath you. As the waves of your orgasm wash over you, Logan talks you through it, whispering dirty nothings in your ear. He gasps as you pulse around him, desperate for him to spill his load inside you, needing to witness him fall apart.

“Ah, shit—” he rasps, thrusting deeper, the bulbous head of his cock hitting your cervix with delicious force. “Are you going to take my cum like a good girl? Let me fill you up until you’re a messy little thing, hm?”

You shiver at his words, your mouth dropping open in awe as you close your eyes, completely lost in the sensation, nodding eagerly. “Please, please.”

Moments later, you feel him unravel against you, and soon his cum starts to shoot deep inside you.

“Fuck, just like that,” he breathes, his voice thick with pleasure. “Such a good baby girl.”

As his thrusts come to a complete stop, he pulls out of you, and you let your body fall limp against the mattress, feeling utterly drained. Soon Logan wraps an arm around you, effortlessly spinning you around to pull you against his chest. He kisses you softly, and you moan at the taste of yourself still on his lips. As he pulls away, he gazes down at you with soft eyes and a charming smile, the warmth of the moment enveloping you both.

“Sorry for ruining your little plan,” Logan teases gently, a playful glint in his eyes.

��No, that’s okay,” you reply quickly, smiling up at him. “I figured I’d give it a try… but I feel like I’m not that great at it.”

He shakes his head, leaning closer. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweet girl. That was so fuckin' hot. In fact, I might want you to try it again.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your eyes brightening at his praise.

He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Maybe next time, I can teach you a thing or two about taking control.”

“Really?” You smile happily, your fingers running through his messy dark hair.

“Mhm,” he hums, his heart swelling at your excitement.

Biting your lip bashfully, you shrug, looking up at him with a shy smile. “I much prefer having you in control, though.”

“That so?” Logan smirks mischievously, his hands beginning to wander all over your body, reigniting the familiar heat between you.

“Yes, you’re so hot when you’re dominant,” you giggle, leaning up to cover Logan’s face with playful kisses.

“Oh, just when I’m dominant?” he teases, smirking down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Logan, you know what I mean!” you pout, continuing to pepper kisses all over his face. “You’re always hot!”

Logan chuckles, his deep voice vibrating through you as he gently cups your cheeks with both hands, trying to capture your lips. Once he does, he presses a series of quick, light pecks against your mouth, grinning widely. You giggle against him, the sound filling the space between you both as he keeps chasing your lips, clearly enjoying the lighthearted moment.

“I love you so much, baby. You mean everything to me,” Logan murmurs against your lips, his voice low and full of emotion. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him closer as his warmth surrounds you.

With a gentle roll, Logan shifts your bodies, laying you down so your back sinks into the softness of the blankets and pillows. His lips never leave yours as you feel yourself getting lost in the kiss, his hands still cradling your face, his thumb brushing tenderly across the skin under your eyes.

“You’re everything to me too, Lo,” you whisper, your voice soft and full of affection, a smile tugging at your lips. “I love you.”

You’re both basking in each other’s presence, the quiet intimacy between you settling into something warm and peaceful. The earlier rush of passion has given way to a serene calmness, where even the soft rhythm of your breaths seems to sync together. Logan’s fingers trace idle patterns on your skin, and you feel completely at ease, wrapped in his embrace.

Then, just as you’re lulled into this tranquil moment, you notice a familiar gleam of mischief in Logan’s eyes. His hands slowly slide down to your hips, fingers pressing lightly against your skin in a way that sends a subtle thrill through you. He caresses you slowly, and the soft strokes make your body stir.

With a playful grin, he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “Another round?” His voice is teasing but full of intent, a promise of what’s to come. You feel the shift in his energy, playful yet laced with the kind of desire that tells you he’s far from finished with you tonight.

“Logan!” you giggle, giving him a playful push, but he only grins wider. In a swift motion, he pulls you close again, silencing your laughter with a deep, passionate kiss. Your playful giggles soon turn into soft, breathy moans as his hands roam your body, and yours do the same, tracing the familiar lines of his muscles.

The night unfolds in a tangle of kisses and wandering hands, the air between you charged with love and desire. Every touch, every kiss, is a reminder of the bond you share, and the passion between you feels endless. The world fades away, and all that remains is Logan. His touch, his gaze, and the warmth of his presence pull you in, leaving you completely lost in him.

thank you for reading <3 mwah

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chrrific · 2 months ago

Text

DOCTOR! DOCTOR! ✷ 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅-𝗈-𝗏-𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗒.

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝒊𝗩𝗔 𓈒 walking around in their clothes

❪ 成熟度 ❫ bf ! enhypen x f ! r O782 headcannon fluff down bad behaviour ◜ᯅ◝ skinship est.rel not proofread

reblogs for ⸝⸝ hugs

HEESEUNG

heeseung was peacefully brushing his teeth at the sink, but the moment you walked into the bathroom, playfully bumping your shoulder with his side as you reach for your own toothbrush, he almost choked on oxygen. the issue, you may ask? you’re wearing his band t-shirt. it’s so big on you it almost swallows you completely; it has him spitting out his toothpaste and rinsing his mouth with wide eyes and a thudding heart, while you stand there, happily brushing away, completely oblivious to what the kind of stunts the sight of you wearing his clothes has his heart doing.

JONGSEONG

“jay,” you call out, stepping out of your room, smiling when you spot him laying sprawled on the couch, game controller in hand. when his eyes travel up from the television screen to you, he visibly gulps, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly from the force at which he swallows. because you’re in his hoodie, looking so fucking adorable that he could combust right there. “what? something wrong?” you tease, a knowing smirk tugging at your lips as you settle down on the couch next to him, taking in the warmth of his body.

JAEYUN

the sight of you in his clothes always had an effect on jake since day one—it’s a known fact, and with how in love with you he is, it’s a necessary feeling. though, until now, he didn’t know the full extent of it. he hums a gentle tune as he happily walks into the house, making a beeline for your shared bedroom. he freezes as soon as he opens the door, his jaw almost dropping to the floor as he takes in the sight in front of him. you and layla were cuddled up on the bed, a book in your hand—another weakness of his, he always thought you were so hot when you read—and worst of all, you were comfortable in his zip-up jacket, the cloth loose against your frame but not too much. oh, this is an image he wants to engrave with gold embossing into his mind.

SUNGHOON

sunghoon has always prided himself on his ability to stay calm and composed, even in the most difficult situations. but there is one event where he never can stay normal, per se, which is when you wear his clothes. he was just waiting for you to get ready so you can go out on a date together, only to be met with the sight of you wearing one of his button downs on top your outfit. “hoonie, you’re staring. is something wrong?” your brows furrow in confusion. “is there something on my face?” your question seems to snap him out of his reverie, and he shakes his head, but the way his heart stutters in his chest each time he glances at you the rest of the day says otherwise.

SUNOO

the wind was chilly, a slight nip in the air as you step out of the house, making you regret your decision to skip wearing something on top of your flimsy shirt for this walk to the convenience store. sunoo immediately picked up on it, the way you were trying to subtly wrap your arms around your to keep yourself warm, and he immediately feels the need to stop you. so, he pulls off his hoodie, and tugs on your arm to stop you, and silently places the hoodie in your arms, murmuring, “it’s cold.. you should wear it.” with his cheeks slightly flushed.

JUNGWON

just as you were about to leave the house, your hand suddenly left jungwon’s leaving him confused for a second as you dashed back inside, saying you’ve “forgotten something important.” only when you come back does he notice: you’re now wearing a baseball cap, his baseball cap. “ready to go?” you ask, casually adjusting the hat on your head as you slipped your hand back into his—he just smiles at you, the action uncontrollable as he pulls you out the door and towards his car.

RIKI

niki almost laughs out loud at the sight of you in his sweatpants, the fabric ending way past your feet, dragging across the wooden floors as you grumble something about him being annoying and a “hater”: your words, not his. you see, you spilled water all over your jeans earlier, and being at his dorm, you had nothing else to change into except a monstrosity that he called his pants. “this is so not funny, ki.” his boyish grin just widens as he watches you flop onto the couch like a petulant child, yet despite the teasing, he can’t deny how cute he thinks you look like this—huffy and so adorable in his eyes.

taglist open requests open

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valeisaslut · 2 months ago

Note

any scandals on both sides before they met? (caught with drugs, at a strip club, fucking a higher up, etc?)

oh nonnie. you just know these two have scandalous backstories. before they met? absolute chaos on both ends. ellie was worse tho, but here are the biggest:

COLLIDE ROCKSTAR!ELLIE SCANDALS:

⭑.ᐟ the strip club birthday video leak

ellie’s 21th birthday ended with her in a NYC strip club, only in a sports bra, a dancer grinding on her while she poured some VERY expensive champagne down her chest. dina was yelling in the background. it got leaked on reddit. she refused to apologize.

“i support small businesses.”

⭑.ᐟ caught with drugs… on camera

grainy paparazzi photo of ellie backstage holding what was very clearly a baggie of coke.

she tweeted “it’s powdered sugar. chill.”

it was not powdered sugar.

her label did PR damage control for weeks.

⭑.ᐟ fucked a Rolling Stone writer

like, literally. she slept with a much older female journalist who’d been covering the fireflies’ tour. when the profile came out and was weirdly flattering, fans immediately knew.

you can’t write “her voice sounds like sex and cigarettes” and pretend you’re objective.

⭑.ᐟ got into a fistfight with a sound tech at a festival

apparently he said something misogynistic about her band and she decked him. the festival banned her for a year. she wore the ban like a badge of honor.

⭑.ᐟ hooked up with a married tour manager in berlin

it was a mess. security footage leaked of them kissing in the VIP booth and reddit sleuths figured out the woman was married. four (4) kids. ellie said nothing. the tour manager resigned.

COLLIDE POPSTAR!READER SCANDALS:

⭑.ᐟ allegedly had a fling with a very famous female creative director

she was nearly 20 years older. fans still speculate that your breakout song was about her. when asked in interviews, you just smirk and say “she was inspiring.”

⭑.ᐟ accidentally flashed the crowd during a wardrobe malfunction at a NYE special

you trended for 3 days and tweeted “wow. a woman with nipples. someone call the police. btw. i have great tits”. your streams tripled.

⭑.ᐟ the “i fucked her for the verse” situation

an up-and-coming rapper claimed you slept with her to get a feature. you never responded. the song dropped. it went platinum.

fans still debate if it was true.

you don’t care.

⭑.ᐟ kissed another popstar girl on stage “as a bit” and ignited rumors for months

it was not just a bit. there was tongue. she later told Vogue, “i was the one who caught feelings. she didn’t.”

ouch.

⭑.ᐟ drunkenly called a major pop award show “soulless” on a hot mic

you didn’t win anything that night. but your fans made t-shirts out of the quote.

(ellie would later say that’s the moment she became obsessed with you.)

and then they met.

and all hell broke loose.

together? a PR team’s worst nightmare. and a fan’s dream.

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averyspizookies · 3 months ago

Text

~~~~~Purple love~~~~~

Quick little freaky one shot,

Idk man im just writing,

Kinda based off this request!! But like low key I forgot what the request said so im just gonna start writing LOL

CW: sexual content (first time writing smut but like, it’s kinda filthy LMFAO) low key sub P help.

Pairing, Paige x Azzi

Paige and Azzi just returned from a long night of media. They both hate doing it, and it takes a toll on them,

Paige flops down on the bed, barley making it there,

“You wanna go to sleep babe?” Azzi says as the sight unfolds infront of her.

The blonde mumbles something and takes off her shirt and shoes, leaving her in UConn blue Nike sweatpants and a matching sports bra,

She had her hair up in a bun and it was feeling like torture by the end of the day, so she quickly pulls it out, letting her loose blonde hair fall over her toned shoulders.

Azzi loves when her girlfriend is tired, its the only time she gets to treat her,

So with this thought,

She too pulls off her shirt, and lets her long curls fall lose out of her bun,

Paige doesn’t even glance up,

“baby…” she says making her way to the blonde,

“Hm?” Paige moans sleepily turning off the lights and turning the TV on,

Azzi doesn’t respond, she just takes a seat on the blondes open lap, straddling her.

“What are you doing Az?” Paige says, intrigued at the sight of her girlfriend on top of her,

Azzi leans down and starts kissing her collarbones, neck and jaw,

Paige relaxes under her mouth, no longer questioning her,

As the taller girl starts too breath a little heavier and dig into her hips a little more, Azzi starts to make her way down her body, with ever soft kisses that leave Paige wanting more,

“Az, cmon baby….” Paige whispers out, her voice slightly strained,

Azzi hums while kissing right on one of Paiges ab muscles sending a vibration through her body,

Paige lets out a soft groan and throughs her head back,

“Azzi baby we have practice tomorrow and I have to lead it, we can’t”

The brunette pulls her head up slightly meeting Paige’s eyes,

“Are you sure we can’t paigey?” She says softly, her tone dangerously light,

Paige closes her eyes and breathes out,

Azzi starts to trail her fingers down Paiges side, still soft with her touch,

“Az cmon, don’t start what you can’t finish,”

Can’t finish?

Who said she couldn’t finish this?

Paige and Azzi have only been dating for 7 months, they haven’t Had sex the first 4, and only started to do it frequently the past month or so,

But every time Azzi offers to help Paige finish, she declines, never letting herself be pleased, but wanting to please Azzi,

Azzi can’t take it anymore, she needs to get inside her girlfriend,

Her kisses deepen suddenly, causing Paige’s body to twitch slightly,

Her hands toy with the waist band of the blondes sweatpants, tracing patterns across the top,

In the dim glow of the tv light, she can see the marks she left on the pale skin of her collarbone start to deepen to a shade of purple,

Being careful not to make any marks on Paige’s visible neck, she works her way down to her abs, leaving more marks where she knows no one will see,

Paiges breathing quickens, she’s lost control of her soft sounds escaping her lips,

Not normally being the one on the bottom, she finds herself letting azzi take control, she’s too tired to fight it.

“Az…”

“Shshhh baby, let me do this for you. Okay pretty girl?” Azzi coos, still working at her stomach and shoulders,

“Take this off for me okay?” She says while toying with the bottom of her sports bra,

Paige hasn’t taken off her bra infront of Azzi yet, normally keeping it on during sex,

So she’s a little hesitant, but she pulls it off over her head,

Azzi leans back and watches her undress, taking it in,

with her bare chest out, Paige feels a little insecure, never being seen by her girlfriend yet so clearly,

Azzi doesn’t say anything for a beat, but then starts to speak again in a sweet, soft voice, “and now take off your sweatpants and boxers Paige,”

Hesitant but listening, Paige lifts her hips up and starts to pull down her pants and underwear, leaving her naked in front of Azzi, only illuminated by the soft glow of the tv besides her,

Azzi takes a deep breath and looks down her whole girlfriends body, this being the first time she’s seen it completely bare,

Her moves her eyes back up to Paiges meeting them in an intense stare,

“Your so beautiful Paige,”

Paige blushes slightly, a little nervous being this vulnerable.

Azzi smiles and then pushes herself off the bed,

“Open your legs for me sweet girl,” she says in a soft voice, but her confidence isn’t faltering, its not a question; but a command,

Paige spreads her legs open just barely at first, Azzi lifts her head up to show that’s not what she wants, and Paige responds by opening the gap in her legs fully,

“Good. You look so pretty Paige,” azzi says while leaning in close to her girlfriends legs,

She bends down and gets on her knees, planting soft kisses on Paige’s thighs,

She holds a hand firm in place on her thighs once Paige starts to shift under her touch,

As she trails her way up, the kisses get harder, leaving more purple hickies on the inner parts of her pale thighs,

Just as she nears her girlfriends wet center, she lifts her head to meet Paige’s gaze,

She tilts her head asking a silent question and Paige nods in return,

“Use your words P,”

Paige mutters out “yes” softly, just loud enough for Azzi to pick up,

With that,

Azzi puts 2 finger lightly at the entrance of her girlfriends soaking center,

without warning, she slams both fingers in, curling up in her g spot,

This draws a slow, pornagraphic moan out a Paige, one she’s never heard before, greatful that there alone she starts to pump her fingers in and out of Paige quickly, each push a little harder then the rest, curling right in her sweet spot,

Paige can’t even lift her head up, the contrast between a new sensation, surprise, and pleasure is all too much for her to bare,

Azzi stares at the way Paiges cunt is pulling her fingers in, she decides its too easy, without warning yet again she adds a third finger while placing her mouth on the throbbing outside of her pussy,

Screams leave Paiges mouth, tears starting to form in her eyes, its too much and yet perfect all at once,

she calls out Azzi’s name and it fades into yet another moan combined with the sound of her dripping cunt,

By the way Paiges legs tense up, Azzi can tell she’s close to a well needed release,

She takes her other hand and places her palm firmly on Paiges lower abdomen, feeling the spot where her fingers are slamming up inside of her,

This sesation is enough to push Paige over the edge,

she cries out and rides her way through the high, while Azzi slows her pace down,

After a minute, Paiges orgasm has stopped, and Azzi pulls out her fingers,

She crawls onto Paige whose trying desperately to catch her breath and regain her thoughts,

“Open your mouth,”

Paige listens and opens her mouth barley, taking a finger in and tasting herself off of Azzi,

“Good girl, You okay love?” Azzi ask as Paige starts to return to her normal self, still slightly out of breath,

“y-yeah, holy fuck that was…” she trails off,

Azzi smiles and grabs some baby wipes from the bed side table, making her way back down to Paige’s thighs,

She starts to clean up Paige’s slick thighs and then stops for a moment,

“What?” Paige asks,

“Ummm well, the marks are little darker then I thought, and bigger,”

“You left marks?”

“Yeah.. there kinda..everywhere.” Azzi says now looking at her girlfriends body,

Paige doesn’t have the energy to inspect herself, she asks Azzi to just finish cleaning her up, and soon passes out from pure exhaustion.

The next day,

“AZZI!!!” Paige screams from the bathroom,

Azzi comes running in slamming the door open, “What!? Are you okay?”

“fucking look at me,” Paige says dropping her towel,

Azzi cups her mouth holding back her laughter as she takes in the sight of Paiges body covered in purple and red hickeys.

“It’s not funny!!! We have to be at practice and we’re still hiding our retionship from our team if you forgot.” Paige says sternly while grabbing her practice clothes,

“Oh hush, no one will notice, there not anywhere near where your clothes end,”

Paige rolls her eyes and starts to put on her clothes and putting her hair up in a messy bun,

Azzi follows and puts her hair up in 2 braids going into a bun and her practice uniform,

They arrive at the court a little late they both slept in due to last nights…activities.

“Hey look who it is, Finally!!!” KK shouts across the room causing the rest of the team to stare at them,

Paige nods shyly and walks over to the group, Azzi following behind her,

Paige was leading practice today due too all the coaches having meetings so it would be light,

They run through drills and conditing for about an hour before she decides to wrap up practice with a game,

“All right all right guys, as soon as someone hits a half court, practice is over.”

The team shouts with there voices all blended into the sounds of Paiges playlist blaring over the speakers,

The vibe is light as everyone starts to attempt half courts, all of the girls laughing and cheering each other on.

Paige is next in line too shoot and everyone starts to boo her, she shoots the ball and—swish,

She jumps up in the air screaming and flexing, lifting up her shirt and throwing it back down. Completely forgetting about the decorations on it,

Most of the girls don’t notice because there too busy cheering, but kk speaks up.

“WAIT, PAIGE COME HERE RIGHT NOW.” She says laughing,

Paige, confused walks fowards.

before she can say anything KK reaches foward and lifts up her shirt, showing her taunt abs with 10s of purple and red bruises on them, leading down to her waist band.

Paige quickly pulls her shirt down but its too late,

“YOOOO PAIGE” Ice screams,

“WHAT WHERE YOU FUCKING, A VACUUM??” Aubrey says practically chocking on her own laughter,

Paige tried to run away, but kk pulls her down onto the ground causing Paige to stumble down falling,

“YO WAIT, THERES MORE??” KK says looking at where Paige’s shorts have ridden up, showing part of her inner thigh,

The girls all completely loose it,

Shouting and cheering, most of them overreacting,

Paige looks up at KK and shurgs nonchalantly, “Ask Azzi what her goal was.”

At the unexpected mention of her name, Azzis face goes red,

“WHAT! WHAT! WAIT….WHAT!?” KK says grabbing onto ice for support looking back and forth between Paige and Azzi,

“YOU DID THAT?” Ice shouts at Azzi, who’s still red.

“SWEET, INNOCENT AZZI…?” Aubrey says putting her hand on her chest gasping,

The girls all start cheering and laughing, all just happy that Paige and Azzi are finally …. Paige and Azzi.

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kxsagi · 26 days ago

Text

𝟎𝟑. 𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨’ 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞

[twitch: chokiigan – 90.2k viewers]

🎮 live now: “saint ego fumbled the bag (but maybe not?)”

the stream opens to low-fi synth and the fuzzy outline of nagi, slouched in his gamer chair with half-lidded eyes and a pink strawberry milk box in hand. his mic’s a little too good, every sip sounds like a war crime. after a long, meditative pause, he sighs.

"yeah, so... saint ego just did a full 360 nosedive straight into the dirt. absolute crashout. capital C. it’s like if radiohead and WWE had a baby and then left it unsupervised in a glass shop."

he scratches his head, leans closer to the mic.

“for those of you somehow still under a rock... their drummer livestreamed the lead singer and guitarist beefing like it was wrestlemania 2005. the internet exploded. their fans started choosing sides like it’s the hunger games. team isagi. team kaiser. meanwhile, shidou’s just tweeting thirst traps with saxophones like nothing happened. peak chaos. ten out of ten."

the chat is already going feral.

@egomaniac420: team kaiser 4l 🔥

@isagibabe: isagi was right but also kaiser was hotter

@shidouszn: nah shidou won by not even showing up lmaooo

@broke4bachira: ngl this drama gave me life

@yawnking69: justice 4 rin the bassist 😔

nagi smirks.

“but then... plot twist. they pulled a wild card. this just dropped on saint ego’s account earlier this morning when i was still sleeping."

he pulls up the tweet on screen, enlarging it.

"okay, hold on. that’s actually clean. like… suspiciously clean. this isn’t damage control. this is chess."

he leans back dramatically.

"this tweet has ‘PR intern who’s too hot for this job and too good at it' energy. like… this ain’t from the band. this is from someone with a spreadsheet, a crisis strategy, and serotonin levels i can only dream of."

@k4iserkissedme: not the intern slaying

@nagiinurheart: pr intern is the main character now idc

@egogate_2025: y’all i heard they hired a marketing girl 👀

@kaiserwifeyy: leak the doc i need drama in 4k

@ego_goblin: she’s controlling the narrative and my heart tbh

nagi pauses. finishes the last sip of his drink like it’s a toast.

"so yeah. from 'crashout' to calculated comeback. if this doc hits the way i think it will, we might be watching the messiest band of 2025 rebrand themselves into legends. or at least into a netflix mini-series. either way, i’m watching."

he shrugs.

"back to minecraft. i’m emotionally invested, but i still have zombies to slay."

the main studio room is becoming comfortable, the smell of faintly old vinyl and burnt dust from an overworked amp growing familiar. it’s not glamorous at the moment – a few burnt out studio spotlight lamps that need to be replaced, wires snaking across the floor like tripping hazards, and someone’s half-eaten convenience store onigiri is still sitting on top of a speaker. it’s the kind of space where people either make something honest or fall apart trying.

karasu straddles a chair backwards, arms hanging loose over the backrest like he’s hosting an interrogation he doesn’t really want to be at. hiori stands a few feet away, fiddling with an old camcorder he found in some storage closet. his fingers move carefully, methodically, as if the act of setting things up is sacred.

“you sure you wanna start it like this?” karasu asks, eyeing you from under his lashes. “no glam. no intro. just raw footage and a band that got publicly bodied by a livestream?”

you shrug. you’re sitting on the floor, back to the wall, phone face-down beside you. nagi’s stream is still trending, clips already circulating. you're trying not to look at them.

“if it feels too clean, it won’t land,” you say. “i want people to believe it before they judge it.”

karasu hums, low and skeptical. “messy sells.”

“i’m not trying to sell anything,” you say. “just... show them the whole story. let them decide.”

the camcorder beeps softly. hiori shifts behind it, and the small red light clicks on – recording. he doesn’t announce it. he just lets the tape run.

karasu raises an eyebrow and grins. “alright then. day one. operation: fix the band that broke itself.”

“not fix,” you say, brushing hair out of your face. “just explain. or... try to.”

karasu leans forward, elbows on the backrest. “you’re more optimistic than i thought. should’ve gone into politics.”

“god, no.”

that gets a quiet snort out of hiori. he stays behind the lens, zooming in slightly, catching the way your mouth curves, not quite a smile. you didn’t plan to be on camera, but here it is: the grainy warmth of tape rolling, the echo of your voice bouncing off cheap drywall.

hiori murmurs, mostly to himself, “it already feels like a funeral tape.”

karasu glances sideways at him, then back at you. “nah. more like the before part of a comeback montage.”

the three of you sit in the quiet that follows. it’s not heavy. just full of things unsaid, of things waiting to be said. you glance at the lens.

“you can cut this part out, right?”

hiori doesn’t answer right away. then: “sure.”

but he doesn’t stop recording.

two days later, you’re shoulder to shoulder with hiori in the same room, a blanket thrown over both your laps like a shield against the outside world. the space is cluttered – empty cans on the windowsill, scribbled notes taped to the walls, the faint hum of the AC vent in the ceiling corner. hiori hits play, and the first episode starts rolling without fanfare, just a flicker of digital static and the soft hiss of camcorder audio.

the opening shot is a mess of tangled black cables on the floor, half-buried under dust and forgotten picks. the camera lingers a second longer than expected, like it’s trying to find meaning in the chaos. then it cuts to a half-empty water bottle lying on its side, light refracting through the plastic and painting warped shapes on the concrete. a page of lyrics appears next – creased, smudged, and torn down the middle, taped back together with whatever someone had on hand. none of it is staged. none of it is beautiful. but it feels honest.

you shift in your seat as the screen transitions to a wide shot of a beaten-up guitar case slouched against a wall, stickers peeling off like old skin. the name saint ego is barely visible, almost ashamed to still be clinging on. everything looks slightly too warm, the colors bleeding at the edges from the camera filter of the old camcorder. hiori had told you earlier he wanted it to feel like a found memory, like something pulled from the bottom of a drawer, warped by time and carelessness.

the film grain is subtle but deliberate. little dust motes, faint hairline scratches, moments of flickering light that dance across the footage like ghosts. hiori watches all of it in silence, his face unreadable, hands hovering over the keyboard, but not touching anything. you can feel how much of himself he’s poured into it. not just editing. curating. shaping. breathing life into the fragments of a band most people think already flatlined.

there’s no music yet. just ambient room tone – a distant cough, the buzz of an amp left on, the soft creak of someone shifting out of frame. it’s not dramatic. it’s not trying to be. it just is.

he pauses on a frame without warning – a close-up of someone’s hand adjusting a mic stand, fingers wrapped in silver rings. the moment feels like a secret. a heartbeat caught in high definition. hiori glances at you, eyes dark behind his glasses.

“too slow?” he asks quietly.

you shake your head. “no. it’s perfect.”

he nods, barely. then he presses play again.

more footage filters in, stitched between the quiet static of the intro like memories caught by accident. the next clip finds isagi in the far corner of the studio, curled in on himself like he’s trying to disappear into the floor. his hood’s up as usual, shadows cloaking half his face, and earpods plugged in tight. the camera zooms slowly, carefully, like it doesn’t want to break whatever spell he’s under.

his hand moves across a notebook in quick bursts, sharp and jagged, like the lyrics are coming faster than he can catch them. he doesn’t look up. doesn’t even blink. under the ambient hum, you can barely make out a voice, his voice, mumbling a melody under his breath so raw that it’s almost ghostly: i got goosebumps all over me… when you’re around… it’s hard for me to breathe.

then it cuts to karasu hunched over his laptop, headphones crooked on one ear, eyes focused and sharp. he’s layering beats with that obsessive rhythm only he understands, muttering under his breath like the sounds might escape if he doesn’t trap them fast enough. the camera doesn’t get too close (probably out of fear), but it catches the way his fingers twitch when he’s deep in it, like he’s playing the drums and keyboard at once. the peace doesn’t last.

off-screen, kaiser suddenly appears and tries to hijack the laptop mid-loop. karasu doesn’t even flinch. he just grabs the nearest broom and starts swinging like he’s defending sacred ground as an asiam mom. kaiser yells something unintelligible and sprints out of frame, cackling, the broom narrowly missing his head. the camera shakes with laughter.

the next shot is bachira, sweaty and euphoric behind his drum kit, sticks twirling between his fingers like extensions of his hands. he’s mid-recording, lost in it, hair stuck to his forehead, mouth open in something between a grin and a snarl. the snare cracks like thunder, and just before the take ends, he flips both sticks, catches one, and chucks the other directly at the camera. it clatters off the lens. you hear a muffled gasp, then hiori screaming “bachira–!” before the audio cuts.

shidou’s section is chaos wrapped in silk. he’s surrounded by glowing synths and tangled wires, body bouncing in time with a loop that sounds like a video game dying in slow motion. his eyes are too bright. his grin is too wide. he leans into the mic and says, “what if i added saxophone… for drama.” no one answers. no one stops him. the footage cuts just as he slams a key and a sax note shrieks into the mix like a demon being exorcised.

then there’s rin. his shot is brief, but sharp, like a breath of cold air in the middle of a storm. he’s posted up against a wall near the studio entrance, sipping from a canned monster, watching the rest of the chaos through heavy-lidded eyes. airpods in, hoodie unzipped, the camera barely catches him mouthing along to something he’s listening to. he notices the camera eventually. doesn’t smile. just flips it off with two fingers, totally deadpan, then goes right back to playing on his bass. it’s so fast you’d miss it if you blinked.

and finally, sae. he’s sitting at the edge of the madness with a fresh americano in hand, legs spread, watching everything unfold like it’s a soap opera and he’s been held hostage by choice. his sunglasses are still on, despite being indoors. someone behind the camera asks him something, probably about scheduling or sponsorships or whether the band has legally declared war on itself. sae takes a slow sip, deadpan, then mutters, “if one more of them calls me ‘dad,’ i’m quitting.” the clip ends there. perfectly timed. painfully relatable.

the footage shifts – new lighting, golden and loose, like the camera’s exhaling. it’s their day off. no mics. no deadlines. just slow time in the mansion that barely contains them.

in the kitchen, bachira flips pancakes while humming off-key and dancing in mismatched socks. “this batch is soul food,” he declares, “because i made it with my whole chest.”

kaiser leans over the counter, sneaking chocolate chips from the bowl. “your chest tastes like baking soda,” he mutters. bachira throws a pancake at him.

meanwhile, isagi’s dragging the giant beanbag into the middle of the living room like it’s a mission. “this is now the snack pit,” he announces, dumping chips and a two-liter soda in the center like tribute. “entry fee is a fun fact about yourself.” he climbs in with a dramatic flop and opens a bag of gummies with his teeth.

shidou immediately dives in beside him. “i once ate raw squid on a dare and liked it,” he offers.

isagi holds up a gummy like a mic. “weird, but valid.”

outside, karasu lounges in a cutoff tank by the pool with his laptop, pretending he’s not mixing.

“you’re literally muttering to yourself and dragging loops, bro,” you call from inside. “you’re not slick.”

karasu doesn’t even look up. “this is my relaxation face,” he says flatly.

sae sits under the umbrella with an americano and a crossword, peacefully tuned out until shidou cannonballs into the deep end, splashing half the patio. “you are so lucky this isn’t hot coffee,” sae says without moving, but he’s caught glancing down at his flip flops as if the idea of using them as discipline on a 22-year-old was tempting.

rin’s here too, tragically. the camera finds him on the second-floor landing, crouched behind the railing with a book and a box of seaweed snacks like some kind of feral neighborhood cryptid. he’s wearing his noise-canceling airpods again, a shirt that says “no talk, only peace,” and glaring down at the chaos below like he’s the upstairs landlord. someone off-screen yells, “rin, come vibe!” rin shouts back: “i’d rather eat shit!”

later, they’re crowded around the dining table playing a board game none of them fully understands.

“bachira, i swear to the heavens, if you add another fake card to your hand…” karasu threatens, hand hovering near the edge of the table.

“i’m not cheating!” bachira laughs. “i’m creatively strategizing.”

isagi’s crying from laughter, face red, trying to read the rulebook aloud, but tripping over the text. “you literally have five ‘get out of jail free’ cards,” he wheezes. “it’s monopoly, not god mode.”

sae sighs. “juvenile energy,” he says, but this time there’s a faint smile.

you’re caught in frame from the hallway, holding a mug and shaking your head as you watch them spiral. hiori zooms in just enough to catch your grin and to hold on to the moment.

the whole sequence breathes. it’s messy. it’s loud. it’s warm. the kind of footage that feels like home, like friendship that’s survived too many late-night arguments and still circles back to board games and beanbags and pancakes on off-days. the band isn’t saint ego here, they’re just the boys.

but then a fight starts over something stupid. it always does.

someone left the studio fridge open again. kaiser’s protein shake leaked everywhere. isagi’s the first person he sees when he walks in, towel slung around his neck, earpods in, humming the same hook he’s been looping all week. kaiser’s jaw clenches.

“you seriously can’t close a fridge?”

isagi pulls one earbud out. “you think i touched your weird milk sludge?”

“it’s called a shake. you’d know if you actually worked out instead of pacing around like a starving poet.”

isagi stands. “you wanna talk about working out? your ego lifts more than you do.”

the air shifts. rin, lying on the floor with a guitar in his lap, doesn’t even blink. he just exhales through his nose and flips a page in his notebook.

kaiser steps closer. “say that again.”

“what, ‘ego’? or ‘starving poet’? maybe ‘deadweight in eyeliner’?” isagi says, mocking now, but the hurt’s under his tone.

kaiser’s smirk disappears. “you’re still pissed about the livestream? seriously? grow up. people saw the truth. not my fault you cracked.”

“you threw me under the bus in front of the entire fandom,” isagi says, voice low now. “and then acted like it was my mess to fix.”

you walk in mid-sentence, sensing the tension like static in the air. kaiser’s jaw is tight, isagi’s fists are clenched, and the air is seconds from breaking.

“hey,” you say firmly, stepping between them, one hand out. “whatever this is? it’s not worth it. not here.”

kaiser backs off first, scoffing, turning his shoulder. “whatever.”

isagi lingers for half a second longer before dragging in a breath and walking out of the room.

later, the camcorder catches kaiser in the upstairs bathroom, door cracked just slightly. he’s pacing, wired from the argument. he looks in the mirror like he’s trying to see something different in his own reflection. fingers run through his hair, then tug.

then the punch lands – loud, fast, sharp. the marble sink rattles.

“he always acts like he’s better than me…” he mutters, voice cracking more than he means it to. he doesn’t know hiori’s still rolling behind the camcorder, tucked out of view in the hallway.

across the house, isagi slams his bedroom door. the camera cuts to him seated at the mic, trying to record vocal takes. again. again. and again. his voice is strained now, not raw in a good way, but like he’s using the hook to scream something he can’t say.

he stops mid-chorus. throws the headphones across the room. they bounce off the wall. his footsteps are heavy as he storms out. you find him outside, under the deck light, hands on his hips like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“i shouldn’t have to apologize to him,” he says before you even speak.

“maybe,” you say gently, “but you always try to control everything. maybe kaiser’s not the only one with an ego problem.”

he huffs a bitter laugh, looking off toward the trees.

“this isn’t about blame,” you add, softer now. “this is about the fact that this band doesn’t work without both of you. and if you let your pride get in the way, if you keep picking at each other like this, you’re gonna destroy something that actually matters.”

isagi doesn’t answer right away. the wind moves through the branches above you, rustling just enough to fill the silence.

“i just… i don’t know how to not fight with him,” he admits finally, voice quieter now. “we’re wired like this.”

“then rewire it,” you say. “before there’s nothing left to fix.”

he nods once, jaw tight, and you can tell he’s turning it over in his head. maybe not ready to act on it yet. but listening.

the camera lingers on him, half-lit by the porch light. not angry anymore. just tired.

and under all that, still trying.

the studio lights are dimmed to a warm hush, just the glow of the laptop screen casting soft shadows across your face as you finish previewing the first episode. your finger hovers above the “publish” button like it might bite. hiori’s next to you, slouched in the rolling chair, silently peeling the label off his water bottle.

“you okay?” he asks, barely above a whisper.

you nod, but it’s the kind of nod that feels more like bracing for impact. your stomach’s doing that thing again, tight and traitorous.

“it’s raw,” you murmur. “too raw, maybe.”

“that’s why it’s good,” hiori says, eyes still on the screen. “you made something real.”

you inhale, hold it, exhale. then you click publish.

it’s out. episode one is live. no turning back.

hiori leans back in his chair and grins, slow and sleepy. “guess we’re public now.”

the hallway’s quiet later that night, everyone tucked into corners of the studio or passed out for the night. you find kaiser on the rooftop, arms draped over the railing, cigarette burning down slow between two fingers. he doesn’t look back when you step out, but you know he hears you.

“you know those’ll kill you,” you say gently.

“yeah,” he mutters. “i’m not an addict, but add it to the list.”

the air is cooler out here, the kind that wraps around your skin and makes silence feel deeper. you lean next to him, not too close. not yet.

“the episode’s out,” you say after a beat.

he flicks ash into the night. “i saw.”

“... you okay?”

he gives you a crooked smile, the kind that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “define 'okay.'”

you don’t push. instead, you just let it hang there, between you and the dark. after a while, he speaks again. softer this time.

“i hate that he gets to me,” he admits. “isagi. he… digs under my skin and lives there.”

“because you care what he thinks,” you say, watching him. “and that scares you.”

kaiser turns to you at that. not defensive. not angry. just looking. really looking.

“you always do that,” he says. “show up when i don’t ask.”

you raise a brow. “i can stop.”

“no,” he says, too fast. then quieter, “don’t.”

there’s a beat of silence, stretched thin. he watches you, eyes sharper now, like he’s working something out in his head. then he pushes off the railing and circles slowly to your side, not close enough to touch, but closer than before.

“you know,” he says, voice low, “you have this habit of showing up exactly when i’m about to spiral. like clockwork.”

you give a small smile. “maybe you’re just predictable.”

he huffs a laugh, but there’s no real amusement in it. his gaze drops to your mouth for half a second too long. his jaw tenses.

“if i did something reckless right now,” he murmurs, “would you stop me?”

your lips part, but before you can speak, the rooftop door creaks open behind you. someone else steps out.

kaiser’s jaw tightens. his eyes flick over your shoulder.

“of course,” he mutters. “perfect timing.”

masterlist | ch. 02 | ch. 04

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