#... and then onto draft three of course

[endwersed]

Made good progress on the second draft of chapter six today! 6k down and 5.5k to go 😊

[happy74827]

Bruised Shadows

[Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: While coming home from another grueling job, Bucky found himself ambushed by the unrelenting warmth of his neighbor’s compassion.

WC: 3002

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Grumpy x Sunshine (fav trope fr)

I decided to post one of my drafts since it has been decades since I’ve posted last… whoops 👀

『••✎••』

Bucky Barnes didn’t notice the blood until it dripped onto the scuffed toe of his boot. A crimson bead, sharp against the black leather, caught the dim hallway light as he trudged toward his apartment. He swiped the back of his flesh hand across the bridge of his nose, smearing the trickle, and grunted. Didn’t hurt. Barely registered. The serum had a way of dulling the sting of split skin and bruised bone—nothing a few hours wouldn’t knit back together. The ache in his knuckles from the job, though? That lingered, a quiet reminder of the fists he’d thrown and the unconscious bodies he’d left sprawled in some warehouse two states over.

The duffel bag slung over his vibranium shoulder thumped rhythmically against his hip, heavy with gear he hadn’t bothered to unpack. Another day, another mess cleaned up with Sam, for which he took most of the credit, but Bucky didn’t care much about the public eye—just the doing. It kept his hands busy and his mind occupied. Kept the nightmares at bay, if only for a night.

He was three steps from his door, key already fished from his pocket, when he heard it—your voice, soft as a damn spring breeze, cutting through the stale air of the hallway.

"James?"

He froze but didn’t turn. He didn’t need to. He knew it was you—only you called his name like that like it wasn’t a curse or a weapon. Like it was just… his. He clenched his jaw, the ache in his bruised eye socket pulsing faintly as he willed you to keep walking. You lived two doors down, always too close for comfort, always too you—bright and warm and everything he wasn’t. He’d spent months dodging the way you lingered in his trajectory, all soft smiles and small talk he didn’t deserve.

"James, oh my God, what happened to your face?"

There it was—concern, thick and unfiltered, wrapping around him like a blanket he didn’t ask for. He turned his head just enough to catch you in his peripheral, and Christ, there you were—hair a little messy from whatever late-night project you’d been buried in, eyes wide and shining with that unbearable kindness. You were clutching a mug, steam curling from it, probably tea or something equally gentle. You looked like an angel, and he felt like the devil himself standing there, bloodied and hulking in his tactical gear.

"It’s nothing," he muttered, voice low and rough, turning back to his door. "I’m fine."

"You’re bleeding." Your footsteps pattered closer, too quick for him to escape, and suddenly you were right there—close enough that he could smell the lavender on you, feel the warmth radiating off your skin. His metal arm twitched, instinct screaming at him to pull away before he tainted you somehow. "Your nose, your eye—James, that’s not nothing."

He exhaled sharply through his nose, wincing when it stung the raw skin. "I’ve had worse. Go back to your tea."

But you didn’t. Of course, you didn’t. You never listened when he tried to brush you off, and it drove him up the damn wall—how you’d barrel through his gruff exterior like it was tissue paper. You set the mug on the floor—carefully because you were always careful—and grabbed his sleeve, tugging with a strength that surprised him for someone so soft. "No, you’re coming with me. I’m not letting you bleed all over your apartment when I can help."

"You?" He arched a brow, the bruised one, and regretted it when it pulled at the swelling. "What’re you gonna do, stitch me up?"

"If I have to." Your tone was firm and stubborn, and he hated how it made his chest tighten. "Come on."

He could’ve pulled away. He could’ve shrugged you off with a flick of his arm—vibranium or flesh. It didn’t matter; you were no match for him. He was a goddamn super soldier, a walking weapon, and you were… what? A civilian with a bleeding heart and a brain too sharp for your good. He’d seen you solve crossword puzzles in two minutes flat and heard you ramble about obscure history facts when he’d lingered too long in the laundry room. You weren’t an Avenger, weren’t SHIELD—just a woman who’d wormed her way into his life with cookies and quiet conversations, and now here you were, dragging him toward your apartment like he was some stray you needed to fix.

And he let you. God help him, he let you.

Your place smelled like you—lavender and vanilla and something faintly sweet, like the cookies you’d left outside his door last week with a note that said, "Don’t be a grump; eat something." The lights were warm and soft, nothing like the harsh fluorescents in his sparse apartment. You pushed him toward the couch with a gentle shove, and he dropped the duffel by the door, too tired to argue.

"Sit," you ordered, already darting to the kitchen. "And don’t move."

He sat, legs sprawled, metal arm resting heavily on the cushion. His flesh hand rubbed at the back of his neck, where tension coiled tight. He didn’t belong here—didn’t belong in your orbit, period. You were sunlight, and he was a shadow, all sharp edges and dark corners. The Winter Soldier might’ve been gone, scrubbed clean by Wakanda and time, but the nightmares still clawed at him—flashes of blood screams, faces he couldn’t unsee. He woke up some nights with his vibranium fist clenched so hard it creaked, half-expecting to find a body under him. You didn’t know that. You didn’t know him. And he’d kept it that way, only feeding you scraps—his arm, the war, vague mentions of missions—because the full truth would send you running.

You came back with a damp cloth, a bowl of water, and a first-aid kit that looked like it’d seen better days. "Tilt your head back," you said, kneeling in front of him.

You were too close. Way too close.

"I can do it myself," he grumbled, reaching for the cloth.

You swatted his hand away—actually swatted it like he wasn’t just pounds of muscle and metal who could snap your wrist without blinking. "Stop it. Let me."

He stared at you, jaw tight, blue eyes narrowing under the bruised lid. You stared back, unflinching, and he saw it—the worry etched into your brow, the way your lips pressed together like you were holding back a lecture. He relented, tipping his head back against the couch because fighting you felt like kicking a puppy.

The cloth was cool against his skin, and your touch—God, your touch—was feather-light, dabbing at the blood on his nose with a care that made his throat close up. He watched you through half-lidded eyes, the way your lashes fluttered as you focused, the little furrow between your brows. You were so gentle it hurt, like a bruise he couldn’t shake off.

"You don’t have to do this," he said, quieter than he meant. "I’m not your problem."

"You’re not a problem at all," you shot back, not missing a beat. "You’re my neighbor. And my friend. And you’re hurt, so I’m helping. Deal with it."

Friend. The word lodged in his chest like a bullet. He didn’t have any friends since Steve—not really. Sam, maybe, on a good day. But you? You’d been chipping away at him for months, ever since he’d moved in—leaving him coffee when you caught him coming back from a run, asking about his arm like it was just another part of him, not a relic of his sins. He’d grumbled, dodged, and kept his distance, but you kept coming back, sunny and relentless, until he couldn’t imagine the hallway without you in it.

"Does it hurt?" you asked, brushing the cloth over the swelling around his eye. Your fingers grazed his cheek, and he tensed, every muscle locking up.

"No," he lied. It didn’t hurt—not the way you meant. No, the pain was deeper, a gnawing thing that came from how soft you were, how close you were, how much he wanted to lean into it and couldn’t.

"You’re a terrible liar!" you said, smiling faintly. “You’re all tense. I’m not gonna break you, you know.”

But I could break you, he thought, and the idea made his stomach twist. His strength wasn’t just in the arm—it was in every fiber of him, honed by decades of violence. He could lift you with one hand and crush your bone without trying. He’d done it before, under Hydra’s leash, and the memory of it—of fragile things shattering under his grip… kept him up at night. You didn’t know that. You saw the arm, sure, but you didn’t know its weight or danger.

You rinsed the cloth, pink water swirling in the bowl, and came back to his eye, your breath fanning over his skin. He could feel the heat of you, the steadiness of your hands, and it undid him—slowly, thread by thread. He wanted to pull away, to growl at you to stop, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. Because you were looking at him like he was worth something, and he hadn’t felt that in so long, it scared him.

"Why do you care so much?" he asked, voice rough, almost accusatory. "I’m fine. I’m always fine."

You paused, cloth hovering over his cheek, and your eyes flicked up to his—big, earnest, piercing. "Because you’re not fine, Bucky. Not always. And even if you were, I’d still care. You don’t have to go through everything alone."

His breath hitched, and he hated it—hated how you saw through the cracks he’d patched up with sarcasm and silence. He shifted, flesh hand curling into a fist on his thigh. "You don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Then tell me," you said, soft but insistent. "I mean… you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but… I’m here. You know that, right?"

He didn’t answer. The words were stuck, tangled in the mess of his head. And it seemed as if you knew that because you didn’t push; you just went back to cleaning his face, and the silence stretched thick with everything he wouldn’t say.

When you finished, the blood was gone, the bruising still dark but less angry. You sat back on your heels, studying him like you were checking your work. "There. You look less like you lost a bar fight."

He snorted, a rare sound, and your smile widened—bright, unguarded, like you’d won something. He felt it then, the pull he’d been fighting for months—the way his chest warmed when you looked at him, the way his guard slipped when you laughed. He liked you. More than liked you. And it terrified him.

You stood, gathering the supplies, and he caught your wrist—vibranium fingers light but firm. You froze, eyes darting to his, and he saw the question there, the flicker of surprise.

"You shouldn’t," he said quietly, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Your brows furrowed. "Shouldn’t what?"

"Like me. Care about me. Whatever this is." He gestured vaguely between you, his metal hand dropping to hide under his jacket. "I’m not… I’m not good for you."

The silence that followed was heavy and thick with unspoken things. You didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned forward again, your hand resting lightly on his knee. He could’ve crushed steel with less effort than it took to stay still under that touch.

"James," you said, voice soft but firm, "you don’t get to decide that for me."

He clenched his jaw, the muscle ticking. "You don’t know me. Not really."

"Then tell me." Your eyes searched his, open and unafraid. "Tell me who you are, what you think I can’t handle. Because from where I’m sitting, you’re the guy who’s sat through my terrible movie marathons, who’s fixed my leaky sink without me asking, who’s looked out for me even when you didn’t have to. That’s who I see."

He wanted to argue, to tell you about the bodies he’d left behind, the decades he’d spent as a puppet for killers. But the words wouldn’t come. You were looking at him like he was worth something, and it was unraveling him stitch by stitch.

"You deserve better," he rasped, barely audible. "Someone whole. Someone who’s not… broken."

You shook your head, a small, incredulous laugh escaping you. "James, I don’t want 'better.' I want you. Broken pieces and all."

He stared at you, heart hammering, torn between shoving you away and pulling you closer. Your hand was warm against the cool metal, your gaze unflinching, and he felt the dam break—the walls he’d built crumbling under the weight of you. He wanted to believe it, wanted to let himself have this, but the fear lingered, sharp and insistent.

"You’re too good," he murmured, almost to himself. "Too damn good."

You smiled, small and tentative, and leaned in—just enough that he could feel your breath on his lips. "Maybe you’re just enough."

He didn’t know who moved first—maybe him, maybe you—but suddenly, your lips were on his, soft and warm and tasting faintly of tea. It was slow and hesitant, his flesh hand cupping your cheek like you might shatter if he pressed too hard. The kiss was a question, a confession, and when you sighed against him, he answered—deepening it, letting himself feel you, taste you, for the first time.

The kiss didn’t last as long as he’d liked. He missed you the second you had pulled back to rest your forehead against him. Your fingers brushed his jaw, and he felt the tension bleed out of him, replaced by something softer, something he hadn’t let himself name until now.

"I’m not going anywhere," you whispered.

And for once, he believed it.

[malsmind]

lower back tattoo

fwb!chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, kicthen counter sex, slapping, spanking kink, kinda punishing, overstimulation, crying, chris smearing his cum over readers tattoo (its gonna be funny trust)

author's note: idek how tf i thougt of the end for this one.. its been sitting in my drafts for a while LMFAO

wc: 524

this inspired me to add a spanking kink to this! :)

english is not my first language!

"chris, please" you whined. your cheek pressed against the cold marble of the kitchen counter, wet from your tears. you swear your legs would give out any second, but chris didn't care how sensetive you were from the three orgasms he'd pulled out of you already, he just kept fucking into you at a relentless pace.

you whined when another smack landed on your ass, this one felt different. "'s what you get for not telling me." he groaned, watching the way your ass bounced every time his hips snapped forward. "so fuckin' sexy, can't believe you didn't fuckin' tell me" another smack.

chris getting rough with you was nothing new, he'd slap your ass sometimes, never like this though. never like he actually meant it, like he'd punish you for something you've done. you cried out a moan when another hard, slap landed on your ass, the stinging pain barely goes noticed by you because of yet another orgasm building up.

your fingers gripped the counter, knuckles turning white from how hard you were holding onto it. "got a damn lower back tattoo and didn't even tell me until i had you bent over the fuckin' counter." he scoffed, slapping your ass harder than last time, kneading the flesh in an attempt to soothe the sting after. you nearly screamed when your fourth orgasm came crashing down, your legs violently shaking, toes curling as his dick kept fucking in and out of your overstimulated, wet pussy.

another slap

your head was fuzzy, your vision blurring as small tears kept rolling down your face. it wasn't the brutal spanking, it was the fact he just didn't stop after the first time you came on his dick. your voice broke with every moan that left your lips.

"yeahhh, that's it baby. cmon m' so close..." chris groaned, his hands moving to grip your hips instead. "keep moaning f'me"

and you did.

with your legs shaking, your arousal coating his dick and dripping down your leg, you kept making the pretty noises he loved to hear. chris bit his lip, brows knitting together in pleasure as he admired the red marks on your ass, and of course, the healed ink on your lower back. that alone made his dick twitch. his thrusts grew sloppier, but they didn't become slower or less hard. the sound of hips snapping forward, skin slapping and your cries of pleasure, he gave you a few more hard thrusts before pullng out of you. your body went limp against the counter, your grip on the cold surface loosening as you tried to catch your breath.

chris gave his dick a few strokes before you felt his warm cum paint your lower back and ass, low moans coming from behind you.

still catching your breath, you turned your head around with a frown when you felt his tip rub his cum around your lower back, over your tattoo. "chris, what the fuck are you doin'?"

"moisturizing your tattoo, the fuck's it look like?" he answered your confused question like what he was doing was the most normal thing ever.

"chris, it's healed."

© 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

@middlepartmatt @emely9274 @impossiblecollectorcat @staargazr @sllutty-sturniolo @shadowthesim237 @sturns-mermaid @courta13 @grace-sturnz @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @ncm9696 @rcklessheavn @sophand4n4 @amyiasturnl @ivysturnss

[allthatjazz416]

Ushijima NSFW 💎

"Soft Spot" an Ushijima TIMESKIP fic Tags: Fem!Reader! Post-game sex! Needy!Ushi! Switch!Ushi! SoftDom!Ushi! PussyWorship! Fingering! Oral (f. receiving)! Creampie! Intimate! SlowSex! BodyWorship! CouchSex! Aftercare! Word Count: 4.1k Note: MY MAN! 🫶 This was supposed to be fluff just rotting in my drafts but then I turned it into smut so yeah. YAY! MORE SMUT ON THIS BLOG igs! I love him so much!

The door shuts behind him with a soft click.

You don’t even have to look up from your spot on the couch to know it’s him. There’s a particular way Ushijima Wakatoshi walks—purposeful, steady, solid like he’s always got the weight of a team riding on his shoulders. And maybe he does. Being one of Japan’s top players isn’t easy on the body—or the heart.

But here, at home, he isn’t the stoic powerhouse that people see on TV. Here, he’s yours.

“Hi, baby,” you call gently, peeking over the blanket draped over your legs.

He’s already walking toward you, gym bag half-zipped, hair damp from a quick rinse at the stadium. He looks tired, like the pressure’s still clinging to his skin.

“Hey,” he says, voice low and soft.

You shift the blanket open in invitation. That’s all it takes.

Without another word, Ushijima drops his bag by the door and crosses the room with long, quiet strides. He peels off his hoodie, revealing the familiar contours of his strong frame—broad shoulders, lean muscle, arms that have caught a thousand spikes. Arms that now wrap around you like you're his entire world.

He practically melts into you.

All 90kg of pro athlete presses into your side until you're half lying down, half holding him up. You shift, letting him climb fully onto the couch with you, until you’re lying back and he’s resting on top of you, head tucked against your neck, breath warm against your collarbone. You swear he lets out the softest sigh—like he’s been holding it in all day.

“Tough match?” you murmur, threading your fingers into his hair. It’s soft from the shower, still damp in places.

He shakes his head slowly. “We won.”

You smile. “That’s good.”

He hums. But something’s still off.

You brush your fingers down the slope of his back, feeling tension coiled there. “What’s wrong, Toshi?”

He’s quiet. Then, in that same blunt, painfully honest tone he always uses—on court, in press interviews, and apparently now with his face buried in your chest—he says

“I missed you.”

Your heart clenches.

You curl your arms tighter around him. “You’re here now.”

His voice comes again, muffled. “I don’t like being away from you. It makes my chest feel... strange. Empty.”

God. This big, serious man. Always so composed, so exact with his words. And yet, here he is—clinging to you like something fragile.

“You’re allowed to feel that way,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head. “Even aces need to be babied sometimes.”

He huffs. “I’m not a baby.”

You glance down. He’s pouting. Pouting. It’s faint, but it’s there.

“No, of course not,” you tease, brushing your nose against his temple. “You’re my big, strong, six-foot-three husband who needs forehead kisses when he gets overwhelmed.”

“…Yes.”

You laugh, heart full.

You kiss him right on the forehead.

And then again, when he nuzzles impossibly closer, when his hand slides beneath your shirt just to feel your skin, grounding himself in you.

He doesn’t need to say anything else. You feel it in the way he breathes easier with every passing second, how the tension leaks from his body the longer he stays in your arms.

To the world, Ushijima Wakatoshi is composed. Cold. Unshakable.

But here, in your arms, he’s just your man.

And he’s never felt safer.

It’s quiet for a long time.

Ushijima doesn’t move much. He just lays on top of you, resting all that heavy strength like he trusts you to carry the weight he can’t speak aloud. And you do. You always will.

Your fingers keep working through his hair, gentle and repetitive. It’s the only motion in the room, besides his slow breathing against your skin.

You whisper soft things sometimes. Nothing important. Just little reassurances.

“I love you, you know.”

His arm tightens around your waist.

“You did good today. You always do.”

Another breath.

“I’m proud of you, even when you don’t say anything. Especially then.”

There’s a pause. Then—

“I like it when you talk like that,” he admits. Quiet. Honest. Voice a little rough.

You smile, tilting your head so your lips brush against his hair. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t have to think as much when you talk.”

Your heart tugs.

“I’ll talk all night, if it helps.”

“…It does.”

And maybe it’s the softness of the moment. Or the way he’s breathing against your neck—slow, then shallower. The subtle shift in his hips. The warm palm stroking just under your ribs like it’s second nature.

But something stirs.

Your hand drifts from his hair to the nape of his neck. Down, over the ridge of his spine. You press your palm to the small of his back and hold him flush to you.

You feel it. The twitch.

Just the slightest grind of his hips—barely a shift, but unmistakable.

His breath stutters.

You smile lazily. “Toshi.”

“…Yes?”

“You’re hard.”

He stiffens. And for once, he doesn’t have a clear answer. You hear him swallow.

“I didn’t mean to—” he starts.

You cut him off, fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt to feel the bare skin of his back. “I know. It’s okay.”

He pulls back just slightly, so he can look at you. His eyes search yours—deep green and open in a way that no one else ever gets to see. You feel him breathe, heavy and warm, and his voice comes a little lower now.

“May I…?”

You don’t even let him finish.

You lean up and kiss him. Slow. Deep. One hand cradling the back of his neck while the other drifts lower, sliding down the ridge of his spine to rest over his ass. He groans softly into your mouth, and it’s like something clicks—like he finally gives himself permission to want.

His hips roll into yours, firmer this time.

You let out a breathy moan, caught off guard by how needy he suddenly feels. How desperate. Like holding it in all day has built into something molten.

“You want me, baby?” you whisper against his lips.

He nods. His voice is tight when he answers. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

Your hand slides up the back of his shirt, slowly dragging it over his skin. He helps you pull it off, tossing it to the side, his chest rising and falling fast. You press soft kisses to his collarbone, his neck, the side of his jaw.

“You can have me,” you murmur. “Come on, get comfortable.”

He shifts above you, big hands trembling slightly as they slide beneath your shirt now, and you raise your arms for him, letting him peel it away. His eyes drink you in—every soft, warm inch of you—and when he leans down to kiss your chest, it’s so gentle it almost breaks you.

His touch is reverent. Careful.

Like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

You run your hands down his back, nails dragging lightly, and he shudders—his hips grinding instinctively into the heat between your legs. You gasp, clinging to him, and he freezes like he’s done something wrong.

“Again,” you breathe. “Do that again.”

And when he does—when he ruts slow and deep into you, fully clothed, grinding his thick cock against your panties like he’s trying to merge with you—you hear the smallest sound fall from his throat. 

A whimper.

God, it goes straight to your core.

You cup his cheek and whisper, “That’s it, baby. Just let go.”

His jaw tenses, nostrils flaring. For a moment, he just looks at you—like you’ve undone something in him he can’t put back.

Then, slowly, Ushijima leans down and kisses you again. Slower this time. Lingering. One big hand slides under your thigh, spreading you wider, until you're cradled beneath him completely—held in place like you’re the softest thing in the world.

“I want to taste you,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your jaw.

You blink. “Wha—Toshi—”

“I need to.” He’s already moving, already shifting down your body with purpose, lips kissing down your sternum, your belly. “Please.”

He rarely asks for things. Never begs. But there’s a tension in his voice like he’s starving for you.

Your legs part instinctively when his fingers hook your panties, dragging them down slow enough to make your breath hitch. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t even touch you right away—just stares for a second, jaw clenching like he’s trying to burn the image of your dripping cunt into his memory.

“You’re wet,” he says, leaning in to kiss your mound then your clit

“I told you,” you breathe. “You grind on me like that, I’m soaked.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, blown wide and dark. “I love you so much…”

But his voice trails off because his mouth is already moving—already licking a slow, deliberate stripe up the center of your folds—your back arches.

“Oh my god—Toshi—!”

He groans. The sound vibrates straight through you.

His grip tightens on your hips as he locks you down, big hands sliding under your ass to tilt your cunt up toward his mouth. His tongue moves with almost painful control—slow licks, teasing circles, tasting every inch like he’s learning you. Worshipping you.

You reach for his hair, panting. “Toshi, honey…”

“You’re soft here,” he murmurs against you, nosing through your folds. “And here.”

Your thighs try to close around his head, but he presses them apart again—firm and gentle. “Don’t hide from me.”

He says it like it’s a request, but he means it. He’s not going anywhere.

And then—God—his tongue flicks your clit, careful at first, then firmer, and your legs shake.

“You taste so good,” he mutters between licks. “I want you to come like this.”

His voice is low, hoarse with need, and every word is followed by more of his mouth—sucking softly, lapping hungrily. He starts moaning into you when you start grinding back, like your pleasure is turning him on even more than your body.

You start to roll your hips against his mouth, slow and needy, and the second you do, he lets out a noise. Something low and guttural, like it shocks even him.

“You like that?” you breathe.

His answer is to pull you closer—grip firm, head tilting for a better angle—like he’s lost the ability to speak. And really, he has. There’s nothing in the world for him right now but the taste of you.

His tongue starts working tighter circles, flicking up and over your clit with maddening precision. He’s so fucking focused. You can feel it in every stroke. Not just hunger. Devotion.

Your head falls back. “Oh—fuck—Toshi…”

He groans again—loudly—like your voice is feeding him. You glance down and see him rutting into the couch, hips grinding down like he can’t help it. His cock is straining in his pants, swollen and twitching, and he’s not even touching it.

God. He’s getting off just from eating you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, thighs shaking. “You’re gonna make me—Toshi, I’m so close—”

But he doesn’t let up. His tongue gets firmer, lips sucking greedily, and suddenly there’s a finger—his thick finger—sliding through your slick folds, pressing slow and deep into you while his mouth stays locked on your clit.

Your back bows.

Your breath catches, and then you’re crying out—loud and unfiltered—coming so hard your thighs clamp around his head without permission.

He groans into your cunt like he’s the one falling apart.

You’re trembling, fingers twisted in his hair, trying to breathe as the aftershocks roll through you—but he’s not done.

Not even close.

His head lifts for just a second, lips glossy, chin wet, pupils blown. “One more.”

“T-Toshi—wait—”

“One more,” he repeats, kissing the inside of your thigh as he slides another thick finger in beside the first, stretching you wider, slow and deliberate. “Let me make you feel good again.”

His voice is so quiet. So gentle. But his fingers start fucking into you steadily, his other hand coming up so he can rub slow, careful circles over your clit with his thumb—watching your face like it’s the only thing anchoring him.

You’re gasping. Writhing. All thought slipping away.

“I love how you fall apart,” he breathes. “How warm you feel. How sweet.”

And then—just when your body’s coiled tight again, hips canting to meet every thrust—he leans in, brushing his lips over your inner thigh, kissing the skin softly like he’s trying to soothe the ache he’s building.

You try to catch your breath—limbs still twitching, brain still foggy from the first high—but Ushijima isn’t satisfied. Not even close.

His mouth glistens. His hair’s a mess. His chest is heaving.

And his eyes?

God. His eyes are starving.

“One more,” he says again, soft and sure, like he’s promising something sacred. His voice cracks just slightly—“please”—but his fingers are already moving.

You don’t resist. You couldn’t even if you tried.

The stretch makes your mouth fall open—so full, that its so good—and you let out a noise that doesn’t even sound like you.

He groans like it turns him on more than anything else he’s ever heard.

“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, watching the way your walls clench around his fingers. “So fucking tight…”

He loves watching you squirm, so he pushes his fingers deeper, while letting the rhythm build. Making you whine, legs twitching, and his lips part like he wants to taste the sound.

“You’re still sensitive,” he says, like it’s a fact. Like it’s precious. “But I know you can take more.”

You moan, helpless, rolling your hips up against his hand.

“That’s it,” he breathes, his pace steady, precise. “Just like that. Let me feel you.”

His fingers crook just right, pressing against that perfect spot, and you see stars. Your head falls back against the couch cushion, chest rising in frantic waves as the pleasure starts to build again—hotter this time, deeper.

“T-Toshi—fuck—”

He leans in again, lips brushing just above your mound now, so close you can feel the heat of his breath.

“Don’t hold back,” he whispers. “I want all of it.”

You don’t even get a chance to catch the words fully before he drops his head again—devours you like a man driven by instinct alone. Not desperate. Just… determined. Worshipful.

His tongue flicks quick little circles around your clit, every motion in sync with the firm pump of his fingers inside you. He’s so good at this—so methodical, so unshakably present, like he could spend all night buried between your legs and never tire of it.

You cry out, hips lifting to meet his mouth, but he pins you down with one big arm thrown across your stomach. Holding you in place. Keeping you spread.

“So sweet,” he mutters against your cunt, so low and hoarse it vibrates straight through you. “I want to stay here forever.”

You moan. Loud. Unfiltered.

His mouth closes over your clit again—this time sucking. Gentle at first, then sharper. Just enough to send a ripple of pure heat through your core.

You arch off the couch. “Oh my god, Toshi—fuck—don’t stop—”

He doesn’t. He can’t. His whole body is moving with you now, like he’s syncing himself to your rhythm, adjusting every lick and pump to chase the edge he knows you’re hovering on.

Your hands fly to his hair, anchoring there. He groans when you tug. Louder when you grind.

“You’re so good,” you pant, dizzy with need. “You’re so fucking good at this—Toshi—Toshi—I’m cumming—”

It slams into you like a wave. Hot, blinding, sudden. You scream his name—unfiltered and raw—and your whole body shakes, thighs clamping around his ears as you come harder than before. Maybe harder than you ever have.

He moans into it. Doesn’t move, doesn’t ease up. Just keeps working you through it like he’s addicted to your orgasm.

You gush. Soaked. Boneless.

And he drinks it in like it’s all he’s ever wanted.

You’re still trembling. Still split wide open, body wrecked and twitching.

But all you can say is “Fuck.”

he stays between your legs like he’s savoring the aftermath—kissing your inner thigh, licking softly through your folds like he wants to clean every drop himself.

Your breath is broken. Your body limp. But your heart is full—aching, blooming, beating so fast it almost hurts.

When he finally pulls back, you see it his mouth flushed and wet, chin slick, eyes darker than dusk. His chest is heaving like he’s just sprinted ten miles, and his hands are still gripping your thighs.

“Can I make love to you now?” he asks.

You nod. Barely more than a twitch of your head, but it’s enough.

Ushijima doesn’t wait for anything else.

He moves fast—still controlled, but burning with purpose—his hand goes to his waistband, dragging his sweatpants and briefs down in one swift movement.

His cock springs free—hard, flushed, glistening with precum. It’s thick and heavy, the head angry-red and already leaking against his abs.

You can’t help the way your breath stutters. The way your thighs instinctively twitch open wider.

He leans over you, bracketing your hips with his own, and lines himself up without ceremony. One big hand curls around the back of your knee, pushing your leg up as he rolls his hips forward—just enough to tease the tip through your folds.

You whimper at the contact—so sensitive, so open—and he groans at the sound, deep and guttural.

“Look at you,” he mutters, voice low. “So beautiful.”

Then he shifts—bends lower—bringing his chest flush to yours, bracing one forearm beside your head as his nose brushes along your cheek.

And then he pushes in.

Slow. Unyielding.

You feel every inch of him stretch you open—thick and hot, dragging against your walls like he’s meant to fit there. You suck in a breath, hands flying to his shoulders as he sinks deeper, deeper, until he bottoms out with a quiet curse.

Your back arches. His name leaves your lips in a desperate gasp.

“Shit—Toshi—”

He stays still for just a second, breathing hard against your skin, letting you feel all of him. Letting you adjust.

“You’re taking me so well,” he rasps, voice thick, reverent. “So fucking good for me.”

And then he starts to move.

Slow thrusts at first. Deep. Measured. Each one deliberate, like he’s trying to memorize the way you feel wrapped around him.

You cling to him, body pliant, every roll of his hips making you feel fuller, closer, burning deeper.

His mouth finds yours in a kiss—unhurried, open, all tongue and breath. He moans into it, swallowing your whimpers like they feed something feral in him. Like you’re giving him everything he’s ever wanted.

“You feel incredible,” he murmurs against your lips. “So warm… so soft…”

He trails kisses down your cheek, across your jaw, to the hollow of your throat. Every press of his lips is tender, almost worshipful.

“I could stay inside you forever,” he breathes. “Just like this. Wrapped in you. Drenched in you.”

You whine—high, helpless—and your hips buck up to meet him, greedy for more. He groans at the squeeze of your walls, then shifts just slightly, angling his thrusts—

And fuck.

He hits there. That perfect spot that makes your breath catch and your thighs twitch.

“That’s it,” he pants, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Right there. You feel that?”

You nod, but it’s shaky, broken—your voice lost somewhere in the haze of heat curling low in your belly. He rolls his hips again, deeper, and your mouth falls open in a soft cry.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, but he doesn’t flinch. If anything, he presses in closer—his chest flush to yours, heartbeat pounding hard enough you feel it echo against your ribs.

He’s everywhere. All of him—his hands, his voice, his body—wrapped around you, inside you, like you were made to take him.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs into your skin. “So fucking perfect…”

He kisses you again—slower this time, lips dragging sweet and messy over yours as his hips move in a steady rhythm. You taste your own breath between kisses. Feel his tongue sweep your bottom lip. His hand slides up your side, strong and steady, fingers spreading wide to anchor at your ribs.

And the way he holds you—it’s not just control. It’s need. Like he wants to memorize you with his palms.

Every thrust sinks in deeper, more purposeful, every drag of his cock brushing right against that tender, aching spot inside you. You whine into his mouth, clinging to him like you’ll fly apart without him holding you together.

“You take me so well,” he breathes, lips brushing your cheek. “Feel so good—like you’re made for me.”

“T-Toshi—” you gasp, but your voice warbles, overwhelmed by the slow build. “Feels so good, I—fuck—”

He shushes you with a kiss. “I know,” he whispers. “I know, baby… I’ve got you.”

And he does.

He rocks into you with a pace that’s steady but unrelenting, pulling pleasure from you like it’s something sacred. His body pressed tight to yours, the heat of him seeping into your skin, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs your name like a prayer.

You’re melting under him. Quivering. Pleasure licking hot and heavy through your veins, winding tighter with every thrust.

“I’m close,” you whisper, almost in disbelief. “I’m—Toshi—I’m gonna—”

“I want to feel you,” he groans, voice wrecked and thick. “Come for me. Please.”

He angles his hips again, fucks up into you hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs, and your orgasm hits—sharp and shuddering, tearing through you like a lightning bolt.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream. Your back arches, your walls clamp down around him—and Wakatoshi moans as he buries himself deep, holding you through it.

“Fuck—just like that—”

You don’t stop shaking. The aftershocks roll through you, wave after wave, until your fingers go slack on his shoulders and your head falls back, dazed and flushed.

But he’s still moving—less rhythm now, more desperation.

His mouth crashes to yours again—hot and messy, all tongue and teeth—as he chases his own high. You feel his cock twitch inside you, his thrusts turning erratic, hips stuttering as his whole body goes tight.

And then—with a broken groan of your name—he spills into you, thick and hot, hips jerking one last time as he comes hard, buried as deep as he can go.

The only sound in the room is your shared breathing. Heavy. Shaky. Real.

He doesn’t pull out. Doesn’t move. Just collapses over you gently, his arms bracketing your head, his weight solid and grounding.

For a moment, there’s nothing but his heartbeat against your chest.

And then he kisses your temple. Soft. Barely there.

“I love you,” he murmurs, like a truth he’s been carrying for years.

You smile, even if you’re too spent to say it back right away. Your body’s limp beneath him—boneless, blissed out—but your heart’s still racing, full to the brim.

He doesn’t move far. Just shifts slightly, careful not to crush you, his forearm still beside your head as he presses another kiss to your cheek. Then another—your jaw, your nose, the corner of your mouth—each one a little firmer, a little more lingering than the last.

“Toshi,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed.

He hums like he didn’t hear. Or like he doesn’t care. Just keeps kissing you—your collarbone, your shoulder, your chest—lazy and warm, lips brushing every inch of skin he can reach like he’s mapping you in reverence.

You giggle softly, body twitching under him. “You’re insatiable.”

“I’m thorough,” he replies, deadpan—but there’s a faint curve to his lips, a telltale spark of amusement in his voice.

You roll your head toward him, eyes heavy, hand lifting to cup his cheek. “You’re sweet.”

He kisses your palm.

“You’re mine,” he says simply, and the way he says it makes your heart clench all over again.

Then he finally lifts himself—just enough to reach for the throw blanket behind you on the couch. He tucks it over your bodies with practiced care, one arm sliding back beneath your head like a pillow, the other curled around your waist, pulling you close.

You let out a sleepy sigh, face tucked into his chest, still flushed and sticky and a little overwhelmed.

And Wakatoshi?

He just holds you like you’re the only thing he’ll ever need again.

divider crdts: @/cursed-carmine (bow ↑) @/anitalenia (banners under Ushi pic) @/arminsumi (mdni banner up)

[nottswitch]

꒰ the guys ask bassist!reader for help with some very important… measurements ꒱

cw: 18+ mdni, drug use (weed), measuring cocks, not-quite-a-blowjob, gagging, cursing

a/n: this one’s been sitting in my drafts for a while now, finally got inspo to finish it!

⋆˚꩜｡

jet lag is a bitch, enough said. even though you’re on tour for like a half of your life, you still have some trouble adjusting to different timezones whenever you fly overseas. and so, you end up doing the same exact thing as usual – getting high with your boys at the ass crack of dawn in a shared hotel room.

you’re on the bed, a joint snugly tucked between your fingers as you take a puff, head resting on theo’s lap. through the light mist, you watch enzo and mattheo check themselves out in the mirror hanging on the wall, standing next to each other and flexing their abs in a silent competition.

“this is bullshit,” lorenzo huffs out when it becomes clear that mattheo is far superior in the ‘ripped’ department. the latter looks at him with a lazy smirk, pleased by such an easy win, and weakly punches enzo’s arm as a small taunt.

“i’m serious,” lorenzo whines, returning the punch with a shove to mattheo’s ribs. “we aren’t talking about the real deal here.”

both you and theo simultaneously raise an eyebrow in curiosity, but seems as though mattheo instantly gets the hint, his smirk widening into a grin.

“and what’s the real deal?” you ask, passing the joint to theo. he holds the smoke in for a few moments before leaning down and pressing his mouth to yours. a small cloud billows out of the tiny gap between your lips, and momentarily, you get lost in the moment, mind turning off. the moment gets broken by two sets of footsteps approaching the bed.

“well, it’s damn obvious, mate.”

mattheo takes a pointed look at theo’s crotch. ah, that, you quickly realise, lifting your head from theo’s thighs and looking down. he’s semi-hard already, and you’ve been feeling it against your nape for a few minutes now.

"i mean, we never really compared, have we?” enzo’s hand moves to his cock, twitching in his boxers at the contact. mattheo mirrors the action, grabbing himself and squeezing, making his dick gradually harden.

you shake your head in amusement. “seventh grade, at most,” you pretend to scold, but the sight renders you somewhat endeared, and maybe a bit aroused as well. theo, on the other hand, looks intrigued. he puts the joint out in an ashtray and straightens up. he doesn’t really have to do anything to get himself hard – he’s halfway there already.

“we don’t have a ruler or anything, but, you know…” mattheo looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to understand what he’s getting at. your eyebrows knit together momentarily, but the other guys turn to look at you as well, and realisation slowly settles in your drugged up mind.

“you’re actual animals,” you scoff, but the thought of what’s about to happen makes your thighs squeeze together; you feel your panties dampen pretty rapidly. of course, theo notices; he leans in, his breath ghosting over your cheek.

“come on, dolcezza, it’s gonna be fun,” he murmurs in a kind of voice that makes you believe him. not that you doubted it in the first place – everything these three ever suggested always turned into some type of fun. “let’s see who really gags you.”

the sight of three hard cocks pointing at you isn’t new at this point. enzo is the first one to go. you grab his thighs for support, wrapping your lips around his tip, the salty taste of precum settling on your tongue.

“damn, you’re that horny?” you mumble as you ease onto his cock, but he just chuckles in return.

“can’t help it, baby. oh fuck–”

he gasps as you take him fully, the tip already hitting the back of your throat. you easily hold him there, glancing up to notice his eyelashes fluttering at the pleasure. theo and mattheo exchange a look, letting out equally amused laughs.

“damn, mate. no gagging there, that’s a bummer,” mattheo mutters through a fit of giggles, his hand lazily moving up and down his own slick length. “careful, you might just nut.”

“shut the fuck up.” enzo rolls his eyes, shoving him in the ribs again. “she just doesn’t have any gag reflex.”

“sure. if it helps you sleep at night,” theo chimes in, stroking himself to the sight of your lips wrapped around lorenzo’s dick. next moment, it pops out of your mouth, strings of saliva dropping from your mouth and starting to drip down to his balls. enzo huffs in frustration and takes a step back, still not ready to accept his obvious defeat.

“come on, baby. let’s get you some real food.” mattheo is awfully smug as the tip of his cock glides across your wet lips. your eyes roll playfully at his arrogance, but you eagerly take him in – maybe a bit too eagerly, since you do indeed gag the second his cock slides right into your throat. he’s always been thick, but fuck, you feel it pretty damn well now. tears gather at the corners of your eyes as you hold him in your mouth, and to your surprise, you find yourself unable to do it for too long. you push back, mattheo’s cock slipping out of you and slapping against his stomach with a sinfully wet sound.

“see? told ya.” mattheo pats lorenzo on the shoulder, offering him mocking condolences.

“yeah? wait until i shove my cock up your ass. let’s hear you talk shit then,” enzo retorts, and mattheo doesn’t protest. he just smirks, knowing this threat sounds suspiciously like a promise.

by the time you get to theo, he’s fully dripping – watching you choke on mattheo does that to him. you waste no time sucking his cock in, and it slides smoothly along the walls of your throat, hitting its back in just the right way to make you gag instantly. you try to hold him in, you really do, but it just seems impossible – he’s too big for you to properly settle on his dick, and it doesn’t help that his hips buck up, pushing himself deeper into your throat. you squeeze his thighs, pulling back and slurping up the mess that is your drool and his precum. it’s dripping all over your chin anyway, mixing with the remnants of the other two.

theo grins triumphantly, looking up at enzo and mattheo, who seem genuinely baffled that theo did, in fact, turn out to be the biggest out of them all, judging by your incredibly accurate gag scale.

“you cheated, asshole!” enzo exclaims, gesturing absently towards theo’s throbbing cock and your face, which looks a bit too dazed for it to be a game anymore. “you pushed!”

“blah, blah, blah. you have to learn to accept defeat, amico.” theo leans back on the pillow, his smile wide and proud, hands clasped under the back of his head. “seems like i’m the real deal here.”

“but you saw how her lips stretched around my cock, right?!” mattheo huffs indignantly. “i’m the thickest, you gotta admit that.”

“sure, sure. i wholly believe that.” theo’s denial doesn’t seem too serious, though – after all, he’s no stranger to mattheo’s thickness, so he knows there’s a lot of truth to his assessment. “but she couldn’t even keep me in, so… i am the biggest.”

“well, i’m gonna test that right now,” mattheo almost growls with determination, already making his way to climb onto the bed. you glance at enzo, whose cock is practically weeping for attention at this point, and know that the actual real deal has just started.

au. more.

[florencemtrash]

Bedsides and Breakfasts

Summary: After Azriel comes home battered and bruised, he refuses to eat the meal you've made him... Why?

Warnings: Angst, character injury, fluff

Author's note: For context, Y/n is Helion's bastard daughter. In an earlier draft of my other (very long) fic, The Shadowsinger and The Inkbird, this was going to be a scene that takes place after Azriel gets hurt during the Battle on the Lake where Y/n figures out Azriel is her mate. I wanted to finish it up and get it out there because I don't want to say goodbye to that story just yet and I wanted to get back into writing so.... here ya go!

The Townhouse sang quietly as it worked. Its melodies lay in the shifting curtains that shook off dust into the wind. Its lyrics in the whistling teakettle. You liked these sounds as you moved about the kitchen, preparing your tea and a crust of bread slathered with butter and jam. 

When the Townhouse was empty, you didn’t need to fear your power — there was no one around for you to touch and steal memories from. Mor had tried to drag you out to Rita’s that evening — “Rhys says you’ve learned to keep your Clairvoyance at bay! Come dancing with us!” — but you couldn’t muster the courage or the energy.

Besides, you were awaiting a certain Shadowsinger’s arrival. 

“Won’t you come back and make me your home? You who’ve stolen my heart as simple as a whisper, calm as a storm,” You hummed to yourself. You swore the Townhouse sighed in contentment. “Do you like my silly little songs then?” You mused. 

The lights shone a little brighter, crackling the air with a flicker of energy. 

You were singing about Azriel — of course you were — and blushing all the while. He’d been the first to truly speak to you — the first to notice you — and the embrace you’d shared in Rhysand’s office had left you breathless for days. You could still feel the ghost of his breath against your neck as you’d buried your face in the hollow of his throat. The cracked leather beneath your fingers and the short hairs at the base of his skull you’d caressed as lovingly as any flower. It was the first time you’d ever been touched like that. Like you were something worth holding onto. 

When he was gone, the Townhouse felt too empty. You felt too empty. Even now, the edges of your patience frayed like a worn shirt without him. 

You spent the evening’s hours combing through every book you’d managed to lug over from the Library. It was quick, but taxing work as every touch against the weathered binding allowed you to absorb its knowledge without you ever having to lay an eye on the page. 

When the candle flickered dangerously close to your books and the dull throbbing behind your eyes had gone on for too long, you blew out the light and could do no more than curl up on the sofa before falling fast asleep. 

The whispers of shadows woke you. You couldn’t understand the words hidden within their overlapping voices, but their panic and relief were heavy in the air. You could almost taste their meaning on your tongue.

“Y/n,” Azriel moaned. He leaned heavily against the open door, forcing it open against the drag of the carpet. His sword clattered to the ground before his knees. “Y/n,” he called out again, more urgently this time. He prayed to the gods you were home. He’d flown through the night, tattered wings struggling to keep him aloft, to make sure he’d see you again… just in case.

Blood and iron burned your nose and your sleep-swollen eyelids split open. “Az—” Your knee slammed against the coffee table in your struggle to escape the blankets. “AZ!” 

Azriel was always greedy for the sight of you, and that familiar tug in his chest tightened as you rounded the corner and sprinted towards him. You tripped where the hardwood ended and the carpet began, throwing his arm around your shoulder. 

He smiled softly at you. Three months ago, you’d been too afraid to touch anyone. Now here you were half-supporting his weight as he staggered to his feet. He stole a few precious seconds to lean his head into the crook of your neck and breathe in your scent. For a moment, he believed it would be enough to heal him.

“How bad is it?” 

“Three arrows in the right wing, two in the left. Fae bane.” 

“Anywhere else?” You both stumbled down the hallway back from where you’d come. 

“I may have been stabbed a few times.” He offered the piece of information casually, like he was complaining about the price of eggs.

“What’s a few?” Your eyes were wide as the moon. Searching, searching, searching for wounds.

“Ten?” 

Your growl tore through the quiet of the night. 

Your hands were slippery with blood, and Azriel almost slid out of your fingertips as you deposited him against the table. You flung your arms out over the hardwood tabletop sending bottles of ink, pens, and sheafs of papers clattering to the floor before rolling Azriel onto the top and forcing him to lay down.

Under the chandelier, Azriel looked ghastly. The warmth was drained from his skin and the hollows of his eyes and the fullness of his lips were tinged purple from cold. His eyes drifted apart from one another.

“I need you to stay awake.” 

“I will.” His words were slippery as soap on porcelain, syllables sliding into one another as he promised you he would be alright and that he had suffered worse before.  

“Stay awake!” You commanded him and his eyes sharpened ever so slightly on your figure as you tore through the cabinets in the corner. 

Where is it? Where is it? Glass bottles clinked and tottered on rounded bottoms. There! 

You snatched one of the pale green bottles lining the back wall and bit off the cork top with a grimace, spitting it out onto the floor. You could taste the medicine inside coat your teeth with an acrid film. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” You slapped Azriel’s cheeks to keep him awake. “Drink this.” 

Azriel’s lips parted immediately and he accepted every bitter drop you forced down his throat. It wasn’t a cure, but it would help stabilize him long enough for help to arrive. In the time it took for you to call out to Rhys and light the candle that would wake Madja and call her to the Townhouse, Azriel’s cheeks had flushed with some more color. 

The sight did little to ease your worries as you worked on unbuckling the straps of his armor. Piece by piece they fell away with a wet thud on the ground. 

He grabbed your wrist before you could run in search of something to cut off the clothes clinging to him like a second skin. Elain had left gardening shears on the back porch. Perhaps the kitchen had scissors?

“Stay.” He begged. “Please stay.”

“Rhys and Madja will be here soon. I just need to get something to help you.” 

“Then stay.” His grip turned desperate, short nails digging into your forearm. “Stay and help me. Don’t leave me.” 

Azriel might have smiled if he wasn’t in so much pain. His hand slid up the curve of your arm to hold your neck, thumb tracing the line of your jaw. 

“I wanted to see you just in case.” His chest rattled with the effort, “Gods, I missed you.” 

He’d been gone weeks on the Continent, scrounging after every whisper of Koschei’s name as far as the eastern mountains. He’d scavenged and raged. Killed and tortured. And he’d missed you all the while. It was what had possessed him to fly all the way to Velaris, when he would have been better off breaking into the Day Court and throwing himself at the mercy of Helion — your father. 

You felt the tears prick at your eyes, angry and hot. “If you say another fucking word like you’re about to die, I will kill you myself.” You were not prone to violence, and Azriel felt some pride that he could elicit such an emotion from you. 

Luckily for you both, Azriel didn’t get a chance to say anything else, and you didn’t get a chance to murder him before Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and Madja were bursting through the front door and following the blood-red trail to the dining room. 

Azriel squeezed your hand once more. “Stay with me.”

“Where else would I go, Az?” You whispered, pressing a quick kiss to the palm of his hand before the others crowded close. 

You stayed at the head of the table, one hand always holding onto Azriel’s. He swallowed his pain, the faintest groans slipping from his lips as arrows were pulled out inch by bloody inch. It was no easy thing to endure, not even for Azriel. Wicked barbs lined the arrow shaft and caught onto the delicate membrane of his wings no matter how Madja twisted, pushed, and pulled. 

One particularly harsh wrench had Azriel crying out, his nails digging into your arm and drawing blood. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, feeling your skin break beneath his nails. His skin was tinged green now. A sickly sheen covered his face and fell over his eyes. 

“It’s ok. It’s ok. Just look at me.” You grasped the sides of his face. “Look at me.” 

Once again, Azriel was ready to listen to your commands. His eyes never left yours, not once, until the last of the faebane-tipped arrows dropped onto the table with a menacing ring of metal on wood.

Feyre closed his wounds as best she could, but the flesh inside would take longer to heal. For now all they could do was carefully wipe the blood from his body and carry him up to his bedroom. 

You lingered by Azriel’s side long after he fell asleep, fingers twitching with nerves as you counted every slow and steady breath of his. 

“Y/n.” Feyre gently touched your arm. “He’ll be alright.”

You nodded, still watching Azriel sleep. Then, to your mortification, you burst into tears. Your clothes were drying stiff with sweat and blood — none of it yours — and the red handprints Azriel had left along your arms were turning to copper rust. 

She shushed you, softly tugging at your arms. 

“He-He asked me to stay,” you said between gulps of air. 

“He’d want you to be clean and well-rested, Y/n. Don’t let him wake up feeling guilty.” 

If it weren’t for Feyre, you would have remained glued to the floor of Azriel’s room until you became one of the faces trapped in the wooden floors. You let her lead you across the hall to your own room where she filled the tub with warm water and soap. 

“Shit,” you mumbled. Your fingers shook so much you couldn’t undo the buttons of your dress. Shadows, loose and long as stalks of grass, wound around your back, plucking the buttons undone without a word. 

“He’ll be alright.” Feyre repeated this phrase many times as you scrubbed off the night’s events and turned the water copper brown. The magic of the Townhouse whisked away the grime almost as quickly as it appeared until you sat in a sudsy bath, milky and clean.

“What happened to him, Fey?”

“From what Rhys and I can tell, Koschei had over a dozen archers lying in wait for when he returned to Prythian. We’ve already warned Helion.” 

You nodded. Your head felt heavy on your neck, like a doll with a snapped neck. 

“He nearly died.” Once the words were out in the open, fragile and pure, you broke down again, knees drawn up to your chest in the tub. 

“But he didn’t.” Feyre smoothed back your dripping hair. “It will take more than arrows and faebane for Death to steal him from us, Y/n.” 

Gods you hoped that was true, or else your heart might give out every time Azriel walked out the door. 

You returned to his side the moment you were clothed, hair still dripping onto his gray bed sheets as you leaned forward from your chair and held his hand. He slept on his stomach, wings flared out and peppered with white gauze like a patchwork quilt. Beneath the drape of his blankets you knew more gauze covered his chest and stomach, dotted with blood like blooming roses. 

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but you awoke to a deep ache in your back and a faint choir of voices in the air. 

Shadows. 

They kissed your cheeks, cool and soft, urging your eyelids open. Azriel was already awake and sitting up in bed with a grimace. One hand clutched his side and a leg hung over the edge of the bed, like he intended to stand. When he saw you, his hazel eyes widened. First in alarm. Then in guilt. 

“Az?” Your voice felt crusted with smoke and sleep and you did what you could to straighten the crook in your neck and your spine from the odd position you’d fallen asleep in. ““You’re not supposed to be sitting up.” Your bones cracked obnoxiously as you moved for the first time in hours, and the guilt in his gaze deepened. 

You pressed lightly against his chest, feeling the gauze scratch your skin, but he did not budge. 

“Az, you need to lay down. What were you even doing up?” 

Azriel’s eyes flickered off to the side. “I was… I was trying to move you to the bed.” 

You swallowed your yawn and blinked in disbelief. “Azriel, you’ve just been shot and stabbed. You need to lay back down.” 

He grabbed your wrists, tugging you forward until you almost collapsed against his chest. “There’s space on the bed. I want you to be comfortable.” 

“The chair is fine, and you are hurt. Now, please—” He did not move. No matter how you reasoned with him. No matter how you tried to shove him back beneath the covers.

“I will lay back down under one condition.” 

You frowned. He was much more stubborn when he was injured. “What condition?” 

“Sleep on the bed. There’s plenty of room.” 

“Az—” 

“Please.” His hands slipped into yours, fingers pressing against the pulse of your wrists. “Y/n, I will be comforted with you beside me.” He held up his finger before you could sleep. “And not in that gods-awful chair. You’ll wake up crooked.”

“I’m not a stalk in a storm,” you grumbled, because it only seemed appropriate that you should fight him on this. Otherwise, you’d have to admit that the thought of melting into his bed set off fireworks in your stomach, exciting and terrifying at the same time. You’d also have to admit the scent of mountain air embedded in every inch of his room brought you comfort. You could lay your head on his pillows and sleep for an eternity. 

I shouldn’t be here. But you let him tug you closer to him. You slid your legs over his waist, calves catching on the waistband of his pants and dragging in a way that had your heart leaping into your stomach until you were safely on the other side of him. 

Azriel’s bed was massive — over 12 feet across to better accommodate the span of his wings. You moved as far away from him as you could without eliciting offense and stared at the window. 

Your muscles clenched as he shifted closer to you, wings rustling against the silk sheets and whispering as he got comfortable. Every time he so much as shifted, your back prickled, as though you had eyes there that shifted to soak up every inch of him. 

He’s hurt and I’m taking up space and—

He reached out his arm and his fingertips brushed against the curve of your back. You stiffened like you’d been struck by lightning. If Azriel were awake, he would have apologized and wrenched back his hand as if burned. But he was fast asleep and the touch was a natural movement he made in his dreams where he was imagining that you were closer to him. So close that he could breathe down your neck and feel you melt beneath his touch. 

You didn’t sleep, as much as the lull of his breathing threatened to sink you into sweet and comforting dreams. The sky was but a lighter shade of black when you were slipping out of bed with barely a whisper. Miraculously, Azriel did not awaken, and his shadows ghosted over the floors drowsily.

You were no stranger to dawn as you padded down to the kitchens. You hummed to yourself, cracking eggs over a well-greased skillet with onions, tomatoes, and peppers tossed in. They bobbed up and down in a sea of yellow like ducks on water. Potatoes browned to your right, their skins crackling and spitting grease as bacon popped and sizzled beside them. 

You ate as you went, plating the final meal for Azriel, who—if you knew anything about him—would be waking shortly after the first rays of sunlight split his shadows in two. 

You slipped back into his room as quietly as you’d left, and then nearly leapt out of your skin to find a dark mass of shadow covering the bed. 

“You’re awake,” you said blankly. 

Azriel propped himself up onto his elbows, back rippling as he forced his stiff and swollen wounds to stretch until he could sit up in bed. 

“Where did you go?” There was but a faint slur to his words. “You weren’t here when I woke up.” 

“I was making breakfast.” You dragged over the ottoman from the foot of his bed as a makeshift table. “Did you brush your teeth already?” Not that it mattered. A sour mouth wouldn’t keep him from a meal if he was hungry. 

The flash of fear in his eyes was so subtle, so brief, that you missed it. 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“Well that doesn’t really matter. Madja said you should eat first thing. Oh!” You plucked a purple glass bottle from his bedside table. “And she said to drink this with a meal.” You pushed it into his hands, reluctant as they were to take the stoppered bottle from you. 

“I can’t imagine eating right now.” He said, shaking his head. His cheeks puffed out and he swallowed hard. “The smell… it’s… I can’t stomach it.” 

You frowned at that. He liked your cooking. It was only due to circumstance that you hadn’t been able to cook for him in months. 

“Can you please try?” you begged. “Just a bite.”

His skin turned pallid and the dark marks beneath his eyes stood out. He picked up a fork with a trembling hand, stuck it into a potato, then dropped it as if it burned. Suddenly, he regretted asking you to stay the night. Guilt ate away at his stomach, twisting it like spaghetti on a fork. 

You sighed in dejection. “I’ll bring it back downstairs.” You said. You began collecting the silverware from where you’d left them by his side. 

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, catching your wrist in his hand. 

You smiled softly. “Try and get some rest.” 

“Will you be back?” His words caught you by the door. 

“You won’t even realize I was gone.” 

He doubted that very much. Still, he settled back in bed, rolling onto his stomach to keep its rumbling at bay. He was quite hungry. 

You closed the door behind you, carrying the untouched plate of eggs and potatoes. Cassian stopped his whistling as he made his way down the hall, a teasing smile playing at his lips until he caught sight of your dejected expression. 

“What’s got our resident Librarian frowning? Did someone misplace a book in the House?” 

You didn’t rise to Cassian’s jests. You cast a sullen glance back at Azriel’s door like it was personally responsible for everything, and shrugged. “He hasn’t eaten since he’s been back and I’m starting to get worried. I read up on Illyrian anatomy weeks ago and he should be fine enough to eat by now.” 

Cassian leaned down, taking a careful sniff of the plate before grabbing hold of a butter and rosemary roasted potato and plucking it in his mouth. It was cold and the butter had hardened into a greasy slick, but it was still good. He told you as much as he walked with you back to the kitchens, stealing slivers of potato as he went.

“It’s nice to know my cooking’s not at fault.” 

Cassian jerked back in surprise and sudden understanding. “You made him that?”

“Yes. I know the House has its own will, but I like to cook. And it still feels strange having food just appear out of nowhere.”  

Cassian fought with all his might to keep the cheeky grin from his face. 

Poor Azriel, forced to go hungry because he was still too much of a sheepish fool to tell you about the mating bond let alone accept it. 

He clicked his tongue. He loved his brother to the grave and back, but Azriel had a horrible habit of getting trapped in his own mind. Cassian had hoped you would help with that, given you suffered similarly. 

“I wouldn’t take it too personally. Azriel’s a picky eater. Always has been.”

That was a complete and utter lie. Growing up in the Illyrian war camps meant you either starved or ate whatever gray-brown mush you could get your hands on. Rhysand and Azriel had been quicker to move on from the rugged Illyrian lifestyle, and Rhysand especially had used his High Lord privileges to cultivate a refined and expensive taste, but if they were hungry and limited they didn’t give two shits what went in their mouths. 

“I didn’t realize you could afford to be picky in a war camp,” You grumbled. You dropped the plate’s contents onto a skillet, patiently waiting for the House to light a toasty fire. There was no need to let good food go to waste.   

You thought over it, some minor irritation settling in that the Shadowinger had rejected the food you’d worked to make. It really didn’t make sense that Azriel would be so particular about food. Or anything for that matter. He’d always struck you as the practical, bare-bones sort, and you knew him well enough now to know that was true. His very job required it of him. But then again you couldn’t remember the last time he’d accepted any food that you’d offer-

You froze. Oh. Oh.

The first night he’d visited your apartment in the Day Court, he’d refused your tea and cakes before leaving abruptly. You’d agonized over that night for months, trying to figure out what you might have done to scare him off. But he’d been so kind and shy afterwards and then the whole matter of Koschei had arose and you’d never given it much thought because he just seemed so familiar and... Oh. OH-

“BASTARD!” You spat out in shock. The skillet dropped to the stove with a sharp cry that had Cassian blinking. He’d never seen you like this. So…agitated.

Had you always been this dull? A year ago you might have been able to blame it on your naïveté, but you weren’t so socially misinformed now and yet this was a bit much. And… oh you couldn’t wrap your head around your own stupidity to even begin to think about a mating bond with…

A mating bond with Azriel. You… you were his mate. He was yours. And you were his. And suddenly the pieces of it were falling into place so quickly you thought you might be crushed beneath the weight. 

Mate.

Even the thought of the word crashed around your mind incessantly, like an anxious dog trying to settle down to sleep. Yet it all made such perfect sense. The way Azriel always found you when you were in danger or grieving. The awful days when Azriel had been away and you’d felt like a piece of your body had been severed. The way that the world felt right when he was beside you. Maybe it was the bond, maybe it was just something born out of love, or maybe they were one and the same. It was impossible to tell but it didn’t change anything.

Mate.

Cassian glanced sideways at you and said cautiously, “We’re both bastards, Y/n. I don’t think that’s much of an insult coming from your mouth.”

Your eyes snapped to his, suddenly remembering that he was in the kitchen with you. You brandished a fork in your hand like a weapon, pointing the pronged end up at him like he was a piece of meat to be skewered. You were shorter than him, but the sharpness in your eyes made him pause.

“You.” Such a simple word, yet it sounded so threatening. “You knew didn’t you?”

Was he sweating? The room felt warm.

“I don’t know what-“ You snatched his wrist and with your magic, you stole the information from him that you needed. It was as easy as plucking a flower from a field. 

Fuck. Cassian groaned at the same time you did. You knew now. Not that you really needed confirmation from Cassian. Still. It was rather embarrassing to learn you were the last of… well everyone to know, even if it was your fault for not noticing the signs. In your defense you had been preoccupied with other matters…

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” You muttered, heating up the remaining food with a great deal of force before setting down a fresh tray, plate, utensils, and mug of tea on the countertop.

You keep muttering to yourself, your joy disguised by your embarrassment and no small amount of shock. Cassian watched nervously as you prepped the plate. 

You’d no sooner growled, “Move,” before Cassian leapt to the side and you set off out the door and down the hallway back to Azriel’s room.

She knows. One shadow whispered in his ear. Azriel felt his heart skyrocket and his stomach plunge to the cradle of his hip bones. 

She seems… upset.

Upset was a mild word. You were alight with every emotion possible — fury, fear, anxiety, excitement, love — and Azriel struggled to tease them apart. It was like he’d been hit in the chest by a tangle of snakes, each a writhing, living, ever-changing thing. One moment you seemed nervous, the next angry. 

“You.” Your knuckles were pale as they gripped the tray. Sunlight molded to your form like a crown, and it became all the more apparent that you were Helion’s daughter — his bastard daughter, but daughter nevertheless. 

He scrambled into a seated position just in time for you to drop the tray in his lap with a clatter that sent fork and knife skittering over the dish.

You looked down at the tray, then up at his eyes, wide and molten as amber. “You didn’t tell me.” You didn’t need to elaborate any further. 

“I didn’t think—”

“You’re right. You didn’t.” You blinked, suddenly shy. “Did I not make it clear enough that I liked you? That I loved—love you? Or perhaps you don’t… perhaps you don’t want me.” That was a possibility you hadn’t thought of in your excitement to see him again. 

Oh gods, you hadn’t thought of that possibility had you? You’d just aggressively thrown food at him, expecting that he would—

Azriel gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him again. Your cheeks were warm and painted with color. 

“I always worried I was reading into actions that meant nothing to you. But, never think for a moment that I don’t want you.” He smiled then, a shy, secret smile reserved for you. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.” 

Now your cheeks were burning, but Azriel did not mind feeling this kind of heat on his hands. He let go of your chin, twirling a fork with his fingers like it was a knife. It was one of his few nervous ticks whose knowledge was reserved for the people he trusted. For the people he loved. 

“Being with me will put you in more danger than you know.” 

“But I expect it will bring me more happiness than I could have ever imagined.” You raised a hand up to his face, twisting away a stubborn curl of hair that fell over his forehead. “And you forget who my father is,” you reminded him. “Maybe it is I who will put you in danger.” 

“Maybe,” Azriel whispered. His breath fanned over your cheeks, soft and sweet. 

You picked up the fork, lifting it up in between you. 

“Eat.” You commanded him. 

Azriel smiled, plucking it from your fingers and stabbing a potato. He sighed. “I never could deny you anything, and I would never want to,” he said, before chewing carefully. Cautiously. 

You blinked in surprise, instinctively taking a step away when you felt something new and warm begin to burn in your chest, like someone had taken a drop of the molten hazel in Azriel’s eyes and dropped it into your heart. 

“Oh.” You breathed. 

“Yes,” Azriel murmured, “An unusual feeling, I know.” He placed the tray beside him and he’d no sooner opened his arms before you’d buried your face in the crook of his neck. You wanted more of that warmth in your chest. You wanted to slip into Azriel's skin as close as possible to his beating heart. To feel the mating bond wrap around you both like a curtain to block out the rest of the world. 

Azriel groaned in pain, but would not let you leave his embrace. No pain had ever been worth so much. 

You forced him to finish eating, even though all he wanted was the taste of you on his lips. “Later,” you promised him. When he was healed and whole there would be more breathless kisses and urgent touches, but for now he had to content himself with eating his meal and drinking his draught. But he would not be denied the press of your skin against his as you slipped beneath the covers and curled up beside him. This time, you fell asleep quickly and your dreams came over you like water. 

[clockwayswrites]

A Hill to Die On, Ch 5, P 1

masterpost (this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3 my brain is very fatigued and migraine is looming)

It was only because there was no one else in the apartment that Caroline let herself pace. Well, no one than the other people who shared the body with her. Apparently Dick had managed to invite all the girls. Cassandra, Stephanie, and Barbara were all coming along on the shopping trip with her and Dick.

Dick had said that he’d spoken with them each about, well, her and Alvin existing, but she didn’t find that as reassuring as she hoped that it might be. She trusted Dick about the fact that he did talk to each of them, but she found, shamefully, that she didn’t exactly trust Dick not to be taking the reactions at their very best. There was a big gap between not minding her existence and really accepting it. She wasn’t sure where the girls fell in that spectrum.

Tim was trying to reassure her, which was weird. Because, she could tell that Tim was nervous and uncertain as well. There were a lot of reasons that Tim had never really accepted what she and Alvin were and several of those reasons were the Bats and Birds.

He couldn’t lose any of them.

She couldn’t either.

The ringing of the doorbell scattered her thoughts.

Caroline pulled on the strings of her (Tim’s? Too big. Jason’s?) hoodie and pushed her shoulders back. It was okay. She could do this. If they hated her, she’d just make sure not to be around them again. That should be easy enough with three people in the body.

She glanced at the screen by the door, safety first and all that, before opening it to the gaggle of girls.

Well, girls and Dick who honestly blended in very well.

“Who did your make up?” Caroline asked.

“Team effort,” Dick answered with a grin.

Caroline gave a little snort before she forced herself to actually look at the other. “Hi, I’m Caroline. I’d say nice to meet you, but.”

“Have we all actually met you?” Stephanie asked as she pushed through the group some to lean forward.

Barbara just rolled her eyes and her wheelchair both, causing Stephanie to lose her balance and almost toppled.

“Rude,” Stephanie huffed, but followed the others inside.

“You have, at least in some way,” Caroline answered as she brushed some of her hair behind an ear. She had put in the dangly star earrings that Danny had gotten her. They were a small comfort within all of the uncertainty of the day. “I’m pretty much who fronts at galas, but this is the most… me I’ve been around some of you.”

“And you never wanted to say hello?” Barbara asked.

Of course it had to be Barbara who had to ask. She was one of Caroline’s inspirations as both the original Batgirl but also as Oracle. Caroline sat lightly on the arm of the couch, since it seemed they were settling in to talk first. “Of course I did. But… we didn’t really acknowledge ourselves as different people exactly for the longest, even if the truth was in the back of our mind. I think Tim would have stopped me. And even if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have risked that for him.”

“Risked… being you?” Cass asked as she took a seat and folded her legs under herself.

Caroline smiled sadly. “Risk point out how not normal we are.”

“Okay, but Tim—Fuck! Caroline,” Stephanie corrected herself with a grimace. Caroline tried not to mind the slip. “But Caroline, we have never thought Tim was normal. I knew that from the moment I thew a brick at his face.”

“You two have the weirdest relationship,” Caroline said.

“Yeah we do! Dude was my lamaze partner,” she said proudly. Then her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Or fuck, wait, was that actually Alvin?! Have I met Alvin?”

“Pretty much.”

“Yes!” Steph threw her arms up and collapsed onto the couch. “I’ve met all three. Suck it, losers!”

Caroline couldn’t help but laugh softly at that. “Well, so has Dick and maybe Babara.”

“Oh,” Cass said. “That laugh. Heard that laugh before. That is your laugh.”

The wounder with which Cass said it made Caroline want to hide away (or at least blush). (She was pretty sure that she was blushing.) “Oh, yes, I suppose it is.”

“Like it,” Cass said.

Caroline found herself relaxing a little at the certainty that Cass was approaching her with. “Thanks. Our psychiatrist thinks that the more I have… permission to be myself, that the more those differences will come. It’s a little hard though, because all of us are used to being chameleons.”

“Which is part of the reason for this shopping trip!” Dick said. He stepped forward and draped an arm over her shoulder. Caroline let herself lean back into the touch. “We’re going to make sure that Caroline gets new clothing that fits and is all her’s and some decor stuff that she likes.”

“Well, Tim might steal some of the clothing,” Caroline said. “I think I’m a good excuse for him to explore that side of himself. But I really do need clothing that fits.”

“Outfits are something that help you a lot? To feel more you, I mean,” Barbara asked.

Caroline nodded. “Make up and hair styling too. I really like that our hair is longer now so that I don’t have to wear a wig to feel like me.”

“I like how you style it,” Stephanie said. “It looks so different from Tim’s.”

“That’s because Tim is lazy and doesn’t put any product in it,” Caroline said. “But thank you, Stephanie.”

“Stephanie?” she asked, nose scrunched up in offense. “Dude, no, Steph. It’s not like we don’t already know each other! I know we still have to get to know each other better but, like, we can start off as friends, right?”

“And family,” Cass said.

“You had better call me Babs.”

Dick squeezed her shoulder. Maybe he had done a good job talking to them after all.

Caroline ducked her head, embarrassed by how fond she was feeling about all of them right then. “Friends and family then. I like that.”

[mommafudd]

A lil sum.

This is very mid I didn’t do my best and this was in the drafts for long asf. I didn’t proofread! Don’t flame me. I’ve been holding off for days. Okay enjoy!

TW: Smut, Degradation, Language, Mommy Azzi, Daddy P

WC: 8.5k

It was a Friday night in Gampel Pavilion. It was 6 p.m., and tonight was senior night. All the girls were deciding who should wear whose jersey, and without any debate, the team knew Azzi had Paige’s jersey. During this time, Paige and Azzi had been in an on-and-off situation. Azzi was all in, but Paige still feared what the media would say.

But that would all change tonight.

All the seniors had no clue who was gonna wear their jerseys since the injured brigade made it a surprise. Jana was in Aubrey’s jersey. Ayanna was in Aaliyah’s jersey. Carol was in Nika’s jersey. Of course, Azzi was in Paige’s.

All four girls wore jackets over their jerseys to keep it a surprise. Once the teams had run out, they all sat down. When they sat down, they took off their jackets and let the seniors see who had their jerseys on.

When Paige saw Azzi she nearly salivated. As the three other seniors walked up to the girls to give them a hug Paige stood there. Azzi thought she had made a mistake and shouldn’t have worn the jersey at all. That was until Paige had that stupid only for Azzi grin on her face. Azzi didn’t notice since she had turned away in embarrassment.

That’s when Paige saw it. Bueckers. She rushed toward Azzi not trying to make it too noticeable to anyone in the stands. She reached her and hugged Azzi from the back and tucked her head in the crook of her neck sneaking a kiss that couldn’t be caught by any lingering cameras.

When Azzi felt Paige she smiled and flushed deeply. “Someone exited huh?”, Azzi said. “You know what you’re doing ma.”, Paige replied her voice muffled since her face was still tucked in the crook of Azzi’s neck. After a few moments, Azzi turned around and gave Paige an actual hug.

“Lemme take you out tonight pretty lady”, Paige said with confidence. Azzi had already mentally said yes but wanted to challenge Paige a little. “Drop 20 and I’ll consider.”, Azzi said with a sly smirk and a hint of playfulness in her tone.

“Baby that ain’t nothin’ I could do that in my sleep”, Paige said. “Yea whatever Bueckers don’t get too cocky now.”, Azzi replied. “Well you sit there and look pretty and pick what color suit you want me to wear and pick a matching dress and some nice jewelry.”, Paige said with high confidence.

“Paige if you don’t go warm up I’m getting Geno on you.”, she said with a laugh. Paige raised a hand over her heart in mock hurt. “Wow okay, I see how it is. Okay I guess but, I’d rather be talking to you right now though.”, Paige said in a playful sassy tone as she skipped away from Azzi and onto the court with the rest of the team.

————————————

The game had started and by halftime, UConn was winning. Paige had 24 points and a few assists. She was sprinting up and down the court everyone thought she was working for that win. But no. She was working to be able to take her girl out.

She was throwing dime passes the whole way through the third quarter. She had 28 points by the 4th quarter the score was 44-82 with 12 seconds left on the clock.

The ball had just been inbounded to Paige and she started calling the play “ISO! ISO! Clear clear!” Everyone started spacing out since George Town was playing man. 8 seconds. She attempted to get her defender off of her and succeeded. 5 seconds. She did a fancy between-the-legs behind the back trying to impress the curly-haired girl on the sideline. 2 seconds. She shot. One second. Once the ball left her hands the bench stood up. The buzzer sounded with the ball in the air. Splash. She had 31 points.

Azzi slowly clapped. When Paige hit the shot she blew a kiss to Azzi. The cameras thought it was for Geno since in an earlier press conference he said Paige is a terrible shooter. (As a joke) But instead, she blew it to the woman behind him. Her woman. Azzi Jazlyn Fudd. After they went through the handshake line Paige sprinted to the younger girl.

“You did well out there P”, Azzi said in a soft tone as Paige approached. “Thank you, Az. So baby, since I did so good what about that date?”, she asked. “I said I would think about it not a for sure answer.”, Azzi said as she pulled Paige into a hug. “But I mean if you insist then…..yes. I wouldn’t mind a date”. Once Azzi said that Paige got extremely giddy and tightened her arms around Azzi sneaking a kiss to her cheek.

“Okay I’ll pick you up at 8:15 okay ma”, she said as she pulled out of the embrace. As she walked toward the locker for a shower Azzi called after her “White suit, Air Forces, Diamond chain, and a Bust-down watch!”, Azzi said in a shout.

Paige turned back and winked at her as she walked away. Azzi smiled as she got her stuff and headed home.

As they both got home they got ready. Azzi called Carol and Paige called Ice and KK.

(Azzi’s POV)

“Car’ I don’t know which dress I should wear I wanna go for sexy but subtle at the same time you know?” I only have three white dresses one with a V cut showing off the valley of her breasts. The other is a short dress cut off at her mid-thigh with a slit on the left side. The last one had a cross-laced back piece mid-length and a V cut not exposing much. “Um… I think the third one it’s subtle and it’ll make you look even hotter than you are.”, I nodded and considered it.

I went to the closet to change and slipped into the dress. When I came out Caroline said “See Azzi it looks hot as hell Paige is gonna be thinking some crazy things you know that right?”, “Oh my gosh, Car nothing's gonna happen she just wants dinner,” I replied as she laughed. “I don’t know Azzi she looked like she was gonna eat you for dinner when she saw her name on your back.”, That gave me a thought.

“Wait Car did she like it when I had her jersey on?”, I asked. “Seriously? Did you not see her She looked like a starved puppy who had just seen some chicken on the ground.”. Carol said matter-of-factly.

“Okay wait out here I have a good outfit.”, I told Caroline as I went back into the closet and shut the door. Carol was lounging on the bed scrolling through Instagram. Her focus shifted to the closet as I stepped out. “ Oh. My. Gosh.”, Carol laughed “You little whore do you know what you’ll do to her?” Carol said humorously.

“I do. That’s why I’m doing it.”, I replied with a sly grin. I had on a white long sleeve with a white Bueckers jersey over it, small revealing jean shorts, white Nike socks, and White Air Forces, and my curly hair hung loose framing my shoulders. I walked over to my phone and shot Paige a text.

P💕

A💕: Hey p, change of plans. Instead of the suit wear a pair of blue jeans, a White long sleeve, and White forces.

P💕: Okay. Why though?

A💕: Because I didn’t wanna be fancy tonight I know you’re exhausted.

P💕: Aww thanks for being mindful baby See you soon.

A💕: Okay bye P. See you in 10

I locked my phone put it on the desk and turned to Carol. “So I just told her no suit and to match me. Should I wear the set I bought?”, I asked Carol. “Azzi!, you seriously haven’t shown her it yet?!”, Carol exclaimed in confusion. “No it was supposed to be a surprise,”

I said in defense.

“Azzi you have 5 minutes before she gets here hurry up and put it on.”, “Okay I’m going.”, I went back to the closet and put my set on under my clothes. Once I came out there was a knock at the door.

As I approached the door I heard someone pacing on the other side of the door. Before I opened it I put on a white jacket to hide the jersey. I expected Paige to show up with herself only but to my surprise, Paige was standing there with a bouquet. Flustered as hell.

————————————————————

“Hi Mama”, Paige said. She was extremely flustered. “Hey P you okay?”

“Yeah just a bit nervous.”, “Oh okay let’s go.”, Azzi said as she stepped out and shut the door. They began to walk towards Paige’s car and Paige rushed to open the passenger door for Azzi. “Aww such a gentlewoman tonight aren’t we baby?”, Paige blushed and once Azzi settled she gave her a quick peck on the cheek before shutting the door.

Paige got in the driver's seat and started the car. She turned on her SZA playlist before backing out. As she backed out she noticed a dark shade of pink on Azzi's cheeks. “Who got you blushing over there baby?”, Paige asked. “You know who.”, Azzi said matter-of-factly. As Paige drove Azzi grabbed Paige’s hand lacing their fingers together.

Paige had the whole night planned out. She took Azzi out to the place where they had their first date. It was a small 24-hour diner on the outskirts of Storrs. She decided on this place for a good reason as well. She needed time. Back at Azzi's dorm KK, Ice, and Carol were setting up something special for Azzi.

When they arrived Paige got out and opened the door for Azzi. Before she let Paige shut the door she took off the jacket. Then Paige saw it again. Bueckers. Her heart did the stupid flip it always did around Azzi. She let out a shaky exhale and pulled Azzi into her arms. She kissed her way around her face and then she kissed her lips. Slow and tender something for just the two of them.

As they pulled away they both smiled. “Az do you know what you do to me?”, Paige asked. “Of course I do. Why do you think I always do it?”, Paige laced their hands together and they started walking into the diner.

As they walked in they were met with a short light-skinned man. “Hello welcome, just the two of you for the night?”, the host asked. “Yes just us, would you mind if we got a booth near a more empty part of the restaurant? We just wanna enjoy the night together.”, “Uh yes no problem, I would ask the same if I were the face of Storrs.”, the host said. The three chuckled.

As the host grabbed their menus and walked them to a private booth he set the menus down and brought out some water. They scanned the menus and Azzi couldn’t decide on one option. “P I don’t know I want the shrimp and the steak at the same time help meeee” Before Paige could respond the waiter returned. “Hello what could I get started for you?”, the waiter said but her attention was fully directed towards Azzi.

The waiter was clearly on the masculine side. “Um I’ll have the T-Bone steak with a side of mashed potatoes and fries, and she’ll have the jumbo shrimp with a side of veggie mix and white rice.”, Paige said though the question was directed towards Azzi. The waiter wrote the order down and didn’t pay a glance to Paige as her focus remained beaming on Azzi. “Would you like anything else, pretty lady? On the house.”, Azzi smiled. “Um yeah actually can I get some chicken strips My girlfriend loves them.”, Azzi said with confidence.

The waiter's overconfident smile faded. “Uh yeah sure.”, she replied dryly. She walked away after taking their orders. Paige broke the silence “Girlfriend?”, Paige asked as she smiled stupidly. “What I wanted her to know I wasn’t on the market.”, Azzi said calmly. “Damn right you’re not.”, Paige said taking a sip of her water. They chatted for about 15 minutes, just Paige rambling about the game and Azzi talking about what Geno was saying. Then Paige spoke up “I like my name on your back.”, Azzi blushed. “Yeah?”. “Yeah. I do.”, Paige said.

Azzi was about to reply before the waiter came back with her food. She placed it right in front of Azzi. Then she placed the chicken strips right beside her plate as if they were just for her. “Hope you like the chicken strips I told the chef to make them for someone special.”, she said as she smiled at Azzi.

Azzi placed the chicken strips right in front of Paige and said “She is special right? She dropped 31 on Georgetown tonight.”, Azzi said as she smiled at Paige. The waiter replied “Oh I was talking about you I meant your special.”, she said still trying to flirt. “Oh wrong person then.”, Azzi said. The waiter stood awkwardly in front of the table and then left.

When she returned with Paige’s food she harshly placed it down and did not use the polite softness she used with Azzi. Paige cut a piece of steak as the waiter spoke “Is there anything else I can get you guys?”. “Um yeah actually,” Paige said. She fed Azzi the steak straight off her fork then proceeded “I would appreciate it if you stopped trying to flirt with my girl after she repeatedly told you she’s got a girlfriend. Last time I checked she doesn’t have your jersey on with your name or number on it.”, Paige said in a harsh tone.

The waiter stood in silence. She walked away without a word looking pale as ever due to the pure embarrassment.

As they finished up their dinner (Azzi stealing half of Paige’s steak and Paige stealing half of her shrimp) they made their way to the front counter to pay. “Hello again”, said the host with a smile. “Was the booth private enough?”, he asked in curiosity. “Uh, yeah it was but your server was being a little invasive all good though.”, Paige said. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry for the inconvenience I will let my manager know and we’ll make sure you never have this issue again. Matter of fact dinners on the house. You played an excellent game today.”, the host said.

“Oh no that’s fine I got it and I appreciate the support.”, Paige replied pulling out her card.

“No seriously it’s fine you two have a good night.”, the man said. “Thank you so much have a good one.”, Paige and Azzi said.

As they walked to the car Paige opened the door for Azzi. Azzi pressed a quick kiss to Paige’s lips. “Thanks for taking me out tonight baby.”, Azzi said. Paige smiled, “No problem you’re my priority mama.” As Paige walked around the car she texted the group chat.

P boogers😼: Guys is it ready We’ll be there in about 30

Ice🧊: Give us 20 minutes

KK 🧑🏿‍🎤: Um we're almost done go do smth with her or take forever to get here

Car🚗: Uh yeah it’s gon be a minute Distract her we’ll text when we're done.

P boogers😼: Okay I’ll take her for ice cream.

Azzi rolled down her window “Paige why are you taking forever to get in the car?”, Paige replied, “Oh shoot sorry I was texting kk.” Azzi nodded. “Baby you want dessert?”, asked Paige. “Aww, you know me so well. What about ice cream?”, “Baby I was already setting the GPS for Dairy Queen c’mon you know that.”

“Okay well let’s go because I want my triple chocolate ice cream.”, Azzi said with joy.

As they drove to Dairy Queen it was about 15 minutes. When they got there Paige got out and opened Azzi’s door like clockwork. She helped Azzi out and they stepped inside the ice cream shop.

As they stepped in they both scanned the menu as they stood in silence. Deep down they both knew what they wanted but they were trying to give one another time just in case. As the middle-aged man stepped up to the register he asked “Hello welcome to D.Q what can I get you guys today?”, the man said. Paige ordered, “I’ll have 2 scoops of mint chocolate chip and my girl will have 2 scoops of rocky road.”

The cashier typed out the order. “Okay that will be $8.54”, Azzi took out her wallet but before she could insert her card Paige’s phone was already on the reader. Ding*. “Paige come on I was gonna pay.”, Azzi said in mock hurt. “It’s okay Az I got it. 8 dollars isn’t gonna break my bank.”, Paige winked. Azzi rolled her eyes and shoved Paige lightly. “Show off.”

“Only for you.”, Paige replied with a smug grin. Then they went to sit in the corner of the shop where a small two-person booth sat. “So… I have a surprise for you.”, Paige said. “What is it?”, Azzi asked. “Az I said ‘surprise’ The whole purpose of a surprise is that you don’t know.”, Paige said matter-of-factly.

A few moments later Paige spoke again. “I hope you like it and I hope you don’t break my heart tonight.” Before Azzi could respond the man came with their ice cream. They were eating in silence then Azzi spoke. “I enjoy your company P. You truly mean the world to me.”, Paige replied “You’re my everything, Azzi. Most of the time the reason I get up from bed and decide to breathe.”

They finished their ice cream in silence walked to the bins hand in hand and threw out the trash. They left the ice cream shop and Paige walked Azzi to the passenger side opening her door. “Thank you”, Azzi said. “No problem beautiful.”, Paige responded as she buckled Azzi in. Before she went to her side she placed a gentle but meaningful kiss on Azzi’s lips. As Paige walked around the car and got into the driver's side her phone buzzed with a notification. Five to be exact.

Ice🧊: Yo we’re done now

KK🧑🏿‍🎤: Yeah what Ice said we think she’ll love it.

Car🚗: yall gon have a time TONIGHT.

Ice🧊: Yeah we put a lil sum in there for yall to try😏

KK🧑🏿‍🎤: Azzi isn’t sleeping tonight P better stop by the gas station n buy a monster or sum

P boogers😼: Yall are gay. We're on our way back though get out of her room. Now.

Car🚗: Okay I’m pushing them out the door we’re out now. Yall gon have fun tonight…

P boogers: Oh I know. Thanks, Caro

“Paige. Off the phone. Now.”, Azzi said in a stern voice. “Oh shoot I’m sorry love I was texting the group chat. No more phone tonight.”, Azzi smiled at the statement. “Promise?”, “Promise.”, Paige reassured.

Paige started the engine and began driving. She reached for Azzi’s hand. “Don’t say anything but.. just know I love you, sweetheart.” Azzi wanted to reply but kept quiet due to the first few words in Paige’s sentence. They were passing a familiar road, one that led all the student of UConn to their dorms. As Paige turned left they pulled into the parking lot.

Once Paige had parked she told Azzi to wait there. She popped the trunk got out a blindfold and helped Azzi out of the car. She wrapped the blindfold around Azzi’s head and quickly ran back to the trunk to pick up the bouquet of pink roses. Though Azzi couldn’t see them Paige already knew she would love them. Paige slowly but surely helped Azzi up to the third floor of their dormitory. She opened the door. She told Azzi to wait there so she could check the room making sure the setup was nice.

When she walked in she saw it. The beautiful pink roses were scattered along the bed. The pink and white sheets. The gift basket contained a pink unicorn, candy, body care, slippers, a blanket, and a bunch more goodies Her eyes landed on one particular box.

It was a purple velvet box.

In the middle of the bed. Placed gently under the sign that read. ‘Azzi Jazlyn Fudd will you be my girlfriend?’ In all pink letters with a unicorn at the top right. On the bottom left the sign had a small check box and a marker taped to it. ‘Will you be the pink to my purple?’

Paige was extremely giddy. She hurried back to Azzi since she had already been waiting a little too long. She saw Azzi standing near the door. She approached her. “Are you ready baby?”

“Yes, I am.”

Paige gently guided Azzi toward the room blindfold still on. She pushed the door open and the scent of the champagne toast candle hit Azzi like a shockwave. “Mmm, what’s that smell It smells good.”, Azzi said. “Champagne toast.”, is all Paige replied and you can hear the smirk in her smile.

“Are you ready?”, Paige asked. “Oh my gosh, Paige hurry up you’ve asked a billion times already.”, Azzi said. “Okay, okay”, Paige replied in mock defense as she finally pulled off the blindfold and Azzi opened her eyes. She covered her mouth with both of her hands. “Azzi Jazlyn Fudd, will you be my girlfriend?”, Paige asked. “Yes!, Yes!, Yes!,”, Azzi exclaimed.

Paige pulled her into a tight hug and then littered her face with kisses. “Check out all the stuff I got you. Some of the girls helped me out since we left.”, Azzi looked at that basket and saw a long black box that stuck out due to the black to colorful contrast of the other bright colors. She pulled it out and it had no label. Azzi asked Paige if she knew what it was but they were both clueless. Azzi decided to take a first glance. Once she opened the box she closed it immediately. Paige decided to take a look for herself and did the same.

Of course. Like Ice said. A lil sum.

They both looked at each other and laughed. “Oh my gosh, I knew ice was up to something,” Paige said. “Paige. Madison. Bueckers. You’re telling me Isuneh Brady put a sex toy in my girlfriend's basket?”, Azzi asked. “Yeah that girl is something else.”, Paige said.

Paige sat down on the bed and grabbed the velvet box before she got down on one knee. “Azzi I already know you’re gonna be my wife one day so I bought you this promise ring so you can see it every day and know how much I love you. Ever since we were 16 you’ve been the one woman I have eyes for. You treat me so good and I’ve been extremely stupid to make you wait this long. I love you so much that I would do anything for you. You are the most gorgeous woman I know and the most kind, intelligent, and amazing Lady I know and want. I love you so much and I don’t want you to forget that. So I promise you, I will marry you when the time is right.” At this point, Azzi was in shambles and her cheeks were drenched in tears. Paige put the ring on her hand and once she stood up Azzi pushed her onto the bed littering her face with kisses.

She got on top of Paige and straddled her like she’d done countless times before. Paige had barely processed the way Azzi was looking at her. She looked like she had been dehydrated and the only way to quench her thirst was Paige. Azzi softly pressed her lips onto Paige’s and kept a slow steady pace of rhythmic pecks. When Azzi began to get close to the sweet spot underneath Paige’s jaw the whimpering and soft moans from Paige started eliciting faster and some louder or quieter than others.

They were kissing aggressively licking into each other’s mouths competing for dominance and just as Azzi was starting to gain leverage Paige picked her up. She stood with her arms under Azzi's ass keeping her in a stable position. She backed Azzi into the wall and started littering kisses down Azzi’s neck. As she reached the sweet spot of her collarbone bone she began to mark Azzi's collarbone. Some hickeys could only be visible to someone staring at her neck area.

Paige purposefully did this to make sure that people knew she was not available. While Paige was trying to see what noises she could drag out of her girlfriend she felt a sudden force to her shoulders. Azzi plopped down and pushed Paige onto the bed. “You’ve had your fun P. Now let me show you how much I wanna have the real ring on my finger.”, Azzi said this as she crawled into Paige’s lap straddling her once more.

Paige felt as if someone had yanked the oxygen from her lungs. There was an extremely noticeable throbbing between her legs. Azzi started marking her territory as well and as she did so she began to grind over Paige’s pussy. Paige started letting out little oh, ah, uh, oh, ah, uh’s. Paige was straight-up whimpering.

“Arms up.”, Azzi said. Paige obeyed and let Azzi remove her shirt and sports bra. Once the tops found their way to the corner of the room Azzi was attacking Paige’s breasts. She was biting and sucking all over her chest. Then, she took one of Paige's hard nipples into her mouth and licked against it softening it with the flat of her tongue. Paige was moaning louder now.

Azzi hadn’t taken off the jersey yet and Paige was aching to remove it. “Can I take this off Mama?”, Paige asked. Azzi nodded and gave her a smug smile. As Paige removed the jersey she immediately noticed the top half of the pretty lavender lingerie. There was a purple lacy mesh bra that had straps connecting to the lower half.

Paige silently asked permission to take off Azzi’s shorts and Azzi immediately nodded. Paige removed the shorts and saw the bottom half. There was a very tiny pair of matching lavender panties. One odd thing that Paige had yet to notice was that there was a ring at the bottom. Where Azzi's entrance was there was a hole with a ring so she could still have access to Azzi's juicy cunt. “Damn ma, I’m going to slut you the fuck out.”, Paige lets out a half growl half whimper. She sounded extremely desperate.

“What do you want pretty my fingers? Mouth?”, Paige asked. “Strap.”, was all Azzi said. Paige complied. Though she had never used a strap-on before she quickly got the hang of it. She secured the harness onto her hips with the perfect fit. When she returned to Azzi she asked to take off her bra. Once Azzi’s chest was bare Paige was attacking her chest. Hungry. She took a nipple into her mouth and began sucking in it gently as her other hand caressed the swell of the other breast. Azzi felt an amazing sensation as if Paige was releasing all her stress with her tongue. “Stop, teasing me Daddy I need it. Please.”, Azzi begged. At the seriousness and want in Azzi’s tone, Paige got on her knees.

In between Azzi's legs, Paige pulled the panties aside and began giving kitten licks to Azzi's dripping cunt. Paige was making out with Azzis clit causing her to let out soft and gentle moans. Beautiful moans. At that, Paige stuck two fingers in just to give her enough stretch. After all, she didn’t want to hurt the younger girl with the sudden stretch.

When Azzi didn’t feel as tight Paige pulled out her fingers. She looked directly into Azzi’s eyes as she sucked and licked them clean. She leaned down and kissed Azzi. Hard. She licked into her mouth and Azzi moaned at the taste of her arousal on Paige’s tongue. Paige scooted her body up Azzi’s and her hips were now hovering above her chest just before the beginning of Azzi’s face. Before Azzi could question Paige spoke. “Suck.”, Paige demanded. “W-what?”, Azzi asked in genuine confusion. “This cock isn’t gonna suck itself. Go on. Suck.” Though Paige was new at this she gained confidence with the newfound way of pleasure.

Azzi pushed up onto her elbows and began licking the head of the strap. One thing Paige failed to notice as she put the strap on was that the base of it was directly over her sensitive puffy clit. As Azzi gained more confidence she started sucking it with more force she was sucking half of the strap. The pull from her mouth was causing the dick to move in rhythmic circles. The friction of Azzi moving was causing Paige to let out little moans. Azzi didn’t have any clue why Paige was making noises and concluded that she was just being dramatic and being in the moment. She didn’t know that just a slight small movement was rubbing Paige’s clit. Paige grabbed Azzi’s head and Azzi shoved her mouth down the full length. Azzi felt 9 inches in her mouth curving down into her throat. She was gagging and her saliva was all over the toy but she kept moaning and sucking. “Fuck baby, you like sucking my dick? You even know how to deep-throat?”, Paige said.

Azzi remained quiet. Then Paige got up from where she was above Azzi’s face and made her way back to the foot of the bed. “Are you ready baby? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You tell me the word and I’ll stop.”, Paige reassured. “Paige if you don’t fuck my brains out within the next 10 seconds I’m gonna cry.”, with that Paige moved off the bed. Azzi was about to complain until she realized what Paige was doing. She was picking up the jersey Azzi was wearing from off the floor. She came back to the bed and held the jersey out toward Azzi. “Here put it on. I wanna see my name on your back while I slut you out.”

Without complaint, Azzi slipped on the jersey and began getting into missionary. Except Paige had a big issue with that. She grabbed Azzi by the hips and flipped her over in one swift motion with concerning ease. Azzi yelped in shock at the action. “Oh my gosh Paige!, wait damn, that was lowkey sexy. You’ve been in the weight room Daddy?”, Azzi said as she arched her back. Paige huffed a laugh. “You ready pretty?”, Paige asked. “Yes, just fuck me already Daddy.”, Azzi whined as she arched her back farther to tease Paige.

Paige bent down and started sucking a new love bite into Azzi’s neck from behind. Azzi was starting to get needy and began to whine. “Paige hurry up.”, Azzi said. “Who are you talking to like that baby?”, Paige said as she grabbed Azzi’s hair. Before Azzi could respond Paige thrust her hips forward sending the full length of the strap into Azzi. Paige repeatedly pushed the head of the strap in through the ring where Azzi's entrance was. She felt the base of the strap rub over her clit with a large amount of friction. Again. She was cooked.

Azzi's moan dragged out with the pace of Paige stroking the dick into her. “Mmm. Look at you, taking this dick like Daddy’s little slut. Who do you belong to Az?”, Paige asked as she drove in harder on this particular stroke. “You!, ugh!, F-fuck. You P!, I'm your slut! Your cocks so big!”, Azzi exclaimed as Paige was fucking her at an ungodly pace. “Ugh!, fuck daddy!, It’s in my stomach!”, Azzi screamed. Paige smiled and growled into the crevice of her neck “Yeah? I’m gonna put all my babies in you Az. I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget that pretty name of yours mami.”

Paige grabbed Azzi by the base of her scalp and tugged harder than before. Azzi let out a strangled whimper. Then to let go of some of the tension she figured she would try to distract Paige. She started throwing it back on Paige meeting her hips halfway. Somehow she felt the strap go deeper at this motion.“Damn Mama, who taught you how to throw ass like that?”, Paige said in a smug tone. Azzi could practically hear the smirk on Paige’s face. Paige continued to slide the dick in and out of Azzi and she began to shake and squirm. They kept this pace for a decent amount of time.

“Fuck Mama you feel so good I swear I can fuck you all night.”, Paige said as she kept her pace, sweat dripping down her temples and all. “Fuck Daddy, this pussy is all yours!”, “Who’s is it Azzi Tell me louder I wanna hear you,”, Paige said as she began to let out fairly loud moans. “You!, I’m yours P!, this is all yours! No one fucks this pussy like you!”, Azzi said approaching her release.

Within seconds Azzi was pleading to let go of the boiling heat in her lower stomach. “Fuck P!, I’m gonna c-cummmm. Please Daddy can I cum!”, Azzi said as Paige continued to ram into her. Paige herself was rapidly approaching the edge. “Nah, ask correctly Azzi baby,”, Paige said as she continued railing Azzi from behind. “Fuck!, Please Daddy can I cum on your dick!, I want you to fill this pussy up”, Azzi said in a desperate ragged tone. “Yeah baby, cum on my dick. Warm up my cock, mama. I’m there too. Fuckkkk Az I’m cumminggggg!”, Paige said as she released. They were both trembling, and Paige was sprawled on Azzi's back now.

As Paige stood up she asked, “You okay if I pull out?”, Azzi nodded. “Yeah but slow.” With that Paige slowly pulled the strap out. It was covered in Azzi’s cum and slick. Before she could grab a towel to clean it Azzi got off the bed. “What are you doing Mama?”, Paige asked in confusion. Without a reply, Azzi got on her knees in front of Paige. It took Paige a moment to understand what Azzi wanted.

She inched the strap closer to her mouth and without hesitation, Azzi took it into her mouth. She licked and sucked the strap until all of her release was nowhere to be found. Paige pulled her up onto her feet and kissed her gently. She traced the outline of her lips as if she hadn’t memorized them. She then licked across the entrance of Azzi’s lips asking for permission. Azzi immediately obliged and opened her mouth giving Paige access to explore her mouth. As soon as Paige tasted Azzi on her tongue she let out a half groan and a half growl. They stayed like that for a moment just kissing and holding each other until Paige felt Azzi’s hand come around to her ass to undo the strap. She unclamped the straps and the toy d

Fell to the floor with a. Thud.

Paige eased out of the kiss. “You're done for tonight?”, Paige said as she caressed Azzi's jaw. “No. Get on the bed.”, Azzi replied in a flat tone. Paige was a little taken aback by the boldness of the comment but without argument, she got on the bed. Azzi removed the jersey and put the laced bra back on. She clamped the straps to the lingerie back on and started, “We’re gonna do this the right way because I wore this set for you and I’m not wasting it just because you have a jersey kink. Okay Bueckers?”, Azzi said. Paige fumbled her words, “Y-yes ma’am”

Azzi began to walk toward the bed at a slow agonizing pace. When she reached the foot of the bed she climbed onto the mattress slowly. Paige was sprawled on the bed waiting for Azzi. Azzi crawled up Paige’s body slowly until she reached Paige’s hips. She straddled Paige and sat over her bare bottom half. “I want you to touch and feel me and make me feel wanted and seen.”, Azzi instructed Paige. Without hesitation, Paige reached up and cupped both of Azzi’s breasts through the Lacy meshy bra. She kept her hands there moving them around the valley of her chest. She sat up a little bit just to get better access. She slid some of the bra towards the side and bit a hickey into the upper swell of her breast. Azzi moaned at the sensation and worship she was receiving.

Before she knew it Paige had flipped their positions. Azzi is now on the bed and Paige is hovering over her. Paige leaned toward Azzi and began kissing her in a gentle but meaningful way. Their tongues tangled together and they licked into each other's mouths. Paige’s hands trailed all over Azzi’s torso feeling the curves and scars around her body. She crawled down Azzi’s body kissing every freckle, curve, scar, and goosebump. She was worshipping Azzi and making her feel as seen as possible. Azzi was letting out little moans and whimpers at the sensation. Paige kept trailing lower until she reached the panty line of Azzi's underwear. She kissed all around the waistband and toyed with it She pulled it back and let go just to hear the snap.

She licked across her waistband before trailing higher toward her belly button. She circled the pricing with kisses and kitten licks that elicited moans out of Azzi. Paige’s goal was to make her girlfriend feel good. At that, she trailed back down to the pantie line and asked, “You okay if I take these off mama?”, she asked. Azzi nodded, “Yes, please P I need you.” With that Paige removed Azzi’s underwear. “What do you want Mama?, Fingers?, Mouth?, I can put the strap back on,”, Paige said. “Mouth please.”, Azzi said with an eager and submissive tone. Before Azzi could second guess herself Paige shove there face into Azzi’s juicy pussy. Azzi’s slick covered Paige’s face from her forehead to her chin. Paige was swimming in Azzi’s cunt and all Azzi could do was moan and clench the sheets.

Though she wanted to grab Paige’s head she refrained since Paige hadn’t given her permission. “Fuck mami, this pussy is so wet f’me”, Paige said as she pulled back for some air. When she pulled back she noticed Azzi clenching the sheets eyes locked close. “You wanna grab my hair baby?”, Azzi didn’t bother answering and grabbed Paige by the hair with both hands. She tugged on her hair pulling her towards her throbbing center. Paige groaned at the roughness. “Careful ma don’t pull my hair like that,”, Paige said trying to remain calm and soft for Azzi. Azzi loosened her grip and her eyes fluttered open, “M’sorry Daddy, you just have me all worked up”, Azzi whined.

Paige just shoved her face back into Azzi’s throbbing cunt devouring her and sucking up all the juices that came out of her entrance. On one particular stroke of her tongue, Paige felt Azzi’s whole body tremble. She knew Azzi was extremely close to the edge and doubled down on her efforts. Azzi was letting out straight-up pornographic moans and her hips were shaking violently. With Azzi shaking it was affecting Paige’s work ethic and was ruining her rhythm and pace. So to stop the shaking and squirming Paige wrapped her left arm around Azzi’s lower stomach and her right arm over her hips. Paige closed her mouth over Azzi’s clit and sucked on it till Azzi was tugging in Paige’s hair.

Paige dipped her head down into Azzi’s entrance fucking into her with her long tongue and the first time Paige stroked her tongue Azzi screamed. “Fuck!, Oh my gosh, Daddy!, You eatin’ this shit up!”, Paige moaned into Azzi at the praise, and a shockwave shot through Azzi’s body causing her to scream again. A couple of moments later Azzi was sobbing. “F-fuck!, I’m gonna cum!, please Daddy let me cum!, I wanna cum all over your face!”, Paige smirked into Azzi. She pulled back, “Let go mama let me taste you.”, With that Azzi came all over Paige’s face a few gushes coming out. Paige helped Azzi ride it out lapping up all her release and groaning at the taste. “You taste so good Mama”, Paige said.

Paige thought they were done since they had both already came. She got up to go to the restroom but before she could get off the bed Azzi grabbed her by the jaw. “Did I say we were done?”, Azzi asked in a husky tone. “No ma’am.”, Paige replied as she got back in the bed. “Lie down.”, Azzi said flatly. Paige did as she was told. Azzi got off the bed and picked up the strap. “This was a gift for both of us. I figure it’s only right we both get to feel it.”, Azzi said as she put the harness on. She climbed back onto the bed stopping before Paige’s hips. She bent down and whispered into her ear. “Listen, if you don’t want to do this we don’t have to. You tell me the word and I’ll take it off so quick. Do you wanna try?”, Azzi said. Paige nodded “Yeah just be gentle okay? I’m not used to something being inside me.”, Paige said nervously. “Of course pretty girl I would never want to hurt you.”

At that, Azzi sat up and moved until Paige's legs were on either side of her body. She slid the head of the strap through Paige's folds pulling a groan from somewhere in the depths of her throat. “You ready baby?”, Azzi asked in an overly sweet tone. “Please, Mommy.”, Paige said. With that Azzi slowly slid the strap in. Paige let out a high-pitched pornographic moan. Paige had never felt a sensation like this. She had never had someone stroke a 9-inch dick in her. Paige would get off with just one of Azzi's fingers which was relatively smaller than hers. So when she felt the long strap inside her she nearly cried. Azzi asked if she was okay and Paige nodded. She proceeded to drag the strap out and Paige whined at the sudden emptiness. When she pushed it back in Paige’s spine arched off the bed. A tear slipped out of her eye. She was completely overstimulated with the fullness.

Azzi felt Paige's gummy walls tighten around the strap. “Are you close baby?”, Azzi asked. “Yes!, fuck!, it feels so good. Please, please, mommy!”, was all Paige could get out. Azzi knew Paige better than she knew herself. She could tell Paige was close so she worked the dick out and slowly pushed back it. This time that Paige moaned it didn't sound like it was from pain, more like pleasure. Azzi thrust a total of three more times. “Holy shit!, I’m cumming m-mommy!” Before Azzi could register the words a big gush of white slick game out of Paige. She had never seen that happen before. But what really surprised her was when a big gush of clear warm liquid followed. It soaked her whole stomach and her thighs. “Oh. My. Gosh. Paige Madison Bueckers. Did you just squirt on me?”, Azzi said shocked and quite amused. “Stop. No. Shut up. No. Stop.”, was all Paige said. She was extremely embarrassed due to the fact that Azzi barely fucked her and she squirted everywhere. On the other hand, she felt more ashamed because she's never made Azzi squirt before and she's fucked her for a lot longer than 6 strockes.

“Aww, no baby that was so hot. Don't be embarrassed. Maybe do it in my mouth next time yeah?, wouldn't want it going to waste right?”, Azzi said. “Next time? Azzi Fudd you're such a freak. I will, not. Be squirting in your mouth. Not now or ever.”, Paige said. “Ugh, whatever you're no fun.”, Azzi said as she rolled her eyes. “You good if I pull out?”, Azzi asked in a soft careful tone. “Yeah just slow,”, Paige replied. Azzi pulled out and as she did she covered herself in a mocking gesture. “What are you doing?”, Paige asked in a curious tone. “Oh sorry I didn't know if you were gonna soak me again if I pulled out too fast.”, Azzi said as she tried not to laugh. Paige sat up and pulled her in by the throat. She kissed her deeply and said, “We're not leaving this bed till you squirt so hard you dehydrate.”, Paige said in a serious tone. Azzi took off her bra, “Let's see if you're a woman of your word. And you won't hurt me, you know I like it rough Daddy.”, Azzi said as she smiled. Paige tackled her into the bed. “I’m gonna fuck you till the sun comes out.”

Let's just say the rest was history.

——————————————————

It was now 5 in the morning and Paige was indeed a woman of her word. They had just finished and Azzi had tears dried all over her cheeks from the 4th previous orgasm. The sheets were extremely damp. Paige made Azzi squirt 6 times. They could both place bets on whether or not Azzi was dehydrated. The strap had loads of dry cum on it and Paige had at least 15 scratch marks from Azzi holding n for dear life. They thanked god that KK and Ice stayed at Carol's with Sarah and Ashlynn. Paige stood up and lifted Azzi bridal style. They were both still naked since they just finished and they both looked so fucked out. Paige opened the door and started making her way to the bathroom. “You okay baby?”, Paige asked. “Yeah, you're unreal. You rearranged my guts.” Mid-conversation just as they were passing the entrance to the living room they heard several screams. She jumped and Azzi untucked her head out of Paige’s neck. There sat Ice, Kk, Carol, Sarah, and Ashlynn. They all just arrived and were lounging in the living room. They both screamed so loudly that someone could’ve suspected a murder. “Paige! What the fuck! Go put on clothes!”, Carol screamed as she covered her eyes. Paige ran with Azzi in her arms back to the room.

She slammed the door shut and walked over to set Azzi down on the bed. “Azzi,” before she could continue Azzi interrupted, “Paige!, our teammates just seen both of us butt booty ass naked!”, “I’m sorry Mama!, I didn’t know!”, “It’s okay, but what do we say when we go back out?”, Azzi asked. “How about we stay in here and love on each other till we die of hunger or thirst?”, Paige said as she pushed Azzi down on the bed and began to cuddle her. “Put on clothes and get me some too.”, Azzi said in a stern tone. Paige got up and got dressed then kneeled at the foot of the bed to put some clothes on Azzi. “Okay you ready mommy?”, Paige asked. “Paige don’t call me mommy if we’re not having sex.”, Azzi said as she tried not to laugh. “Why not? You call me Daddy as my second name,”, Paige said. “Okay whatever you’re right let’s go.”, Azzi said. “Okay mommy”, Paige was halfway out the door when she noticed Azzi wasn’t trailing behind. “C’mon mama let’s go”, Paige said. “Paige I… I can’t walk.”, Azzi said as she looked away.

Paige just smiled and walked back toward the bed picking Azzi up bridal style again. “It's okay Mama I'll carry you”, Paige said as she gave Azzi a peck on the lips. “Thank you, Daddy.”, Azzi replied. “Alright enough with this gay shit.”, Azzi said and they both laughed. Paige stepped out Azzi still in her arms and made her way to the bathroom. As they walked past the living room again Paige spoke before her teammates could. “Shut up, we didn't know you were here.”, and kept moving. Paige shut the door to the bathroom and sat Azzi down on the counter.

She turned the water on in the tub and added some bubble bath mix. She removed her clothes and then silently asked if she could remove Azzi's. Azzi nodded and let her clothes be removed. Paige went back toward the water and checked the temperature It was warm just as Azzi liked. She returned to the counter and picked Azzi up and set

Her on the side of the ledge. She got in before Azzi. “Come here baby”, Paige said as she helped Azzi in the water. They sat there, Paige massaging the tightness in Azzi's hips and back. She massaged her thighs and pelvis in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure and help her relax. She washed in between her legs to remove the slick and cum. Then she wet her hand to wipe away the dry tears.

They finished washing up and Paige helped Azzi out and dressed her. She carried her back to the room and tucked her in. They both got into bed and were babbaling nonsense. After some time Azzi spoke. “I’m glad you asked me to be your girlfriend P, I love you” Paige replied, “I love you to Azzi.” They both cuddled each other and pressed gentle but meaningful kisses on each others faces. “Goodnight, Daddy.”, Azzi said as she wagged her eyebrows. “Goodnight, Mommy.”

[purplealmonds]

Finished this just in time for the new trailer drop! This is my Mononoke illustration featuring assorted merch from the anime, movie, and stage play! How many can you recognize? ⚖️👹

(Yes, please send answers in the replies! Answers, progress pics, artist commentary will be drafted on a separate post when I'm less tired) ⭐️ UPDATE 04/03/24: Abridged artist commentary is now available under the cut! For the full version, please see the Google Doc linked in the replies.

👁️Overview 

Late last year, I rather belatedly discovered Mononoke’s 15th anniversary came and went, and with it, an entire swath of new content to manically pore over. This is an illustration of the various Mononoke merchandise, props, and set dressing I discovered.

---

🔎Scope

Some fun facts regarding the work that went into this illustration!

Not including research time, this project ran for roughly two months, consuming much of my waking hours outside of my full time and freelance jobs.

While the illustration does not depict all of my findings, it does feature over 120 unique props and set dressings!

The majority of the props and set dressing were modeled to varying degrees of detail in SketchUp.

To model prep, I often put together schematics on Photoshop or Illustrators. Some were created from scratch. Others were created with the liberal usage of the Photoshop transform and perspective warp function. 

The master file is 1.5GB. The dimensions are 6400x3600 at 300 dpi, and contains over 2,200 layers. 

Near the end of production, the master file became so unwieldy I created a separate working file. This way, I could create assets lag-free then import the layers into the master file. 

---

Past this point is where most of the commentary cuts were made for the sake of brevity. Again, look in the replies for the Google Doc link containing the full version with a table of contents for easier navigation!

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🗳️3D Layout

As you can see, the backbone of this illustration is the 3D model. I spent perhaps 30-40% of my production time on this stage.

And this is the lit version. The lighting ultimately got downplayed in favor of showcasing the vibrant colors. I like how simple it looks though!

---

🎬Production-Based Set Dressing

In addition to merchandise, I wanted to insert set dressing and props from the various Mononoke productions. 

🦊Kusuriuri

It’s odd to have a section dedicated just to him, but his unique appearance warrants it. His garb and overall appearance is an amalgam of the anime and movie. The original intent was ambiguity– kind of like the blue/black vs. yellow/white dress phenomena a few years back. But after doing the color flats, I rather liked how the rich, unaltered colored fit with the overall composition so it became more blatant. I’m surprised that nobody has commented on this since I published the illustration. Maybe because I didn’t feature him in a close-up?

🐈 kai ~Ayakashi~Bake Neko (2006)

Finding props iconic to this story arc (outside of the Kusuriuri’s tools of trade, of course) was somewhat difficult. While the environment was richly decorated, it mainly consisted of 2D artwork which I wasn’t keen on retracing. I opted to paint objects that characters interacted with or featured heavily in the show.

Salt Jar

Candlestick

Rat Trap

🦋Mononoke (2007)

The props fall into three distinct categories here: Kusuriuri’s tools and trinkets; things featured in the opening and ending credits; and objects iconic to each of the five story arcs in the series. I tried to keep most of them clustered on the tatami, but as space grew scarce some props trickled up onto the deck as well.

Medicine Box

Exorcism Sword

Tenbin

Paper Talisman

Mirror

Ring

Geta Sandal

Necklace

Paper Umbrella (Zashikiwarashi)

Daruma Dolls ( Zashikiwarashi)

Gunpowder Ball (Umi Bozu)

Smoking Pipe (Nopperabou)

Genjiko Blocks (Nue)

Train Ticket (Bake Neko)

Lantern (Anime OP)

Butterflies (Anime EP)

☂️Mononoke: Karakasa (2024)

Pretty slim pickings for the new movie since I only had the teaser, first trailer, and movie poster to reference from. Kusuriuri’s tools of trade were a given, but finding memorable and narratively significant objects was a tad troublesome.

Thankfully, the set dressing ended up (however subconsciously) strikingly similar to the movie’s environment design, down to the green tatami and multicolor shoji screen. I suppose at this point I was so immersed in Mononoke content that its aesthetics subconsciously informed my design choices! 

Exorcism Sword

Tenbin

Paper Talisman

Comb

Movie Poster

Butterfly (Custom design)

---

🪭Official Merchandise

Goods related to canonical narratives and/or productions.

🎊15th Anniversary

Mononoke Shu - A light novel by Hideyui Niki & illustrated by 2964_KO

Whiskey Glass & Box

📖 Key Frame Art Books by Hashimoto Takashi

Ayakashi Key Art Frame Book (2010)

Key Frame Art Book vol.9 (2017)

📚Manga by Yaeko Ninagawa

Kai Ayakashi: Bake Neko Vol. 1-2

Kai Ayakashi: Mononoke Prequel

Mononoke Vol. 1-10

🎭Butai Mononoke

Bakeneko Pamphlet 

Zashikiwarashi Pamphlet

Zashikiwarashi Acrylic Standees

Zashikiwarashi Manegi

💿Physical Media

Official OST CD

DVD Box Set

Yokai Pattern Fabric

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Common Collab Merchandise

This category consists of goods that are generally more affordable and feature graphics from the source material with minimal alterations.

Amnibus

Wall Scrolls

Tenugui Fabric 

Shot Glasses

Minoyaki Bean Plates

ANIGA-TER

Stickers

Can Badges

Canvas Prints

Anique

Diorama Acrylic Stand

Acrylic Blocks

Challenge Kuji

Kusuriuri & Hyper Clocks

eeo Store Online

Folding Fan

Keychains

Can Badges

gj character G

Cushion

Acrylic Charms

Neo Gate

Satchels

Mini Badges

Mini Badges by Mame Shinoda

---

High-End Collab Merchandise

Goods which derive motifs from the characters, props, and patterns from the production and transform them in an elevated manner through abstraction or usage of precious materials.

gj character G

Exorcism Sword Ring

Goodsmile

Kusuriuri Nendoroid Figurine

Folding Screen

Kusuriuri & Hyper Plush

Tote Bag

Kaya

Umbrella

Tenbin Kanzashi

Tabi Socks

Dress

Kotobukiya

Figurine

Mayla

Pump Heels

Kusuriuri & Hyper Hairpins

Tenbin Earrings

Hyper Earrings

Noitamina Apparel

Perfume

Tenbin Necklace

Folding Fan

Super Groupies

Purse

Wallet

Watch

Tsumuji Design

Exorcism Sword Necklace

Ofuda Bracelet

Useless Use Lab

Fragrance Set

Air Purifier

Three-Sided Mirror

[honey-flustered]

Kinkmas Day 1: Shared Girlfriend

Steddie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sharing is, indeed, caring.

Warnings: established relationship, mentions of threeway activities, steve and eddie friendly competition for your praise, college!au

A/N: was in the drafts for kinktober so instead it’s christmas goodies instead 🎄

“Thank you so much for carrying my books for me, Eddie Bear. You’re so sweet.” You say with an adoring smile that immediately makes him putty in your hands.

“Anything for you.” Eddie replies dreamily, a dopey smile on his face while his love-stricken eyes refuse to leave your face. He mindlessly unloads your books into the locker, missing the entrance by a long shot as the books fall to the floor. It doesn’t register to him it seems because he continues to put away imaginary books oblivious to the mess he’s made of your things.

You giggle, shaking your head at him a little bit. “You’re so silly.”

Just as you were about to crouch down to collect the books, Steve swoops in and picks them off the ground for you.

“Allow me, princess, we don’t want you lifting a finger. Especially me.” He shoots you a dazzling smile.

“Funny you say that considering I was the one carrying all the books. Not you.“ Eddie mutters.

“Oh, so carrying her backpack and her lunch means absolutely nothing? My girl needs her #2 pencils and a balanced meal and I was able to protect them.” Steve defends.

“You’re right. My girl does need those things,” Eddie emphasizes by dropping a heavy hand down onto Steve’s shoulder. “Thank you for your service. You’ve been honorably discharged, soldier.”

“I’ll go once I get a kiss from my princess,” Steve shrugs off Eddie, stepping towards you. He bats his puppy-dog hazel eyes and pouts. “May I get a kiss?”

“Of course, baby.” You consent, grinning. Then, you’re leaning in, pressing your soft lips against his own. Fireworks burst behind Steve’s eyelids and he feels like he’s about to takeoff like a rocket.

You pull away, doing your best to wipe the excess of your lipgloss from his lips. Steve licks it instead, savoring your taste.

“Mmm, cherry.” He says, eyes just as dazed and love-stricken as Eddie’s once were. But Eddie’s eyes could only carry anger after the display before him.

The boys had no issue sharing you. Hell, the day they both laid eyes on you they were adamant that neither would back off from pursuing you regardless of their close friendship. Two-in-one confessions later, an intense three-way make out session—among other things—and you three decide to make the arrangement official.

Everything has been great…up until Eddie and Steve became a little competitive when it came to receiving praise from you. They’re BIG on praise. Words of Affirmation and Quality Time are their love languages. So, of course, when one would receive any kind of congratulatory words or praise, the other would go to even greater lengths to receive the attention as well.

Eddie touches his index fingers together, feigning shyness. “I get one too, right?”

You laugh. They’re both so cute. “Yes, Eddie Bear.”

You press your mouths together and both end up smiling into the kiss. When you pull away, Eddie takes a moment to reopen his eyes before they’re boring into yours.

“I love you.” He says with a dreamy sigh.

“I love you, too. Eddie Bear. And I love you, Big Boy.” You say, winking over at Steve then checking the time on your phone. “I have to go. My professor’s a real stickler for being on time and makes it everyone’s problem when we aren’t.”

“I’ll be counting down the seconds until we meet again, princess.” Steve says, taking your hand to place yet another kiss on your skin; his eyes never leaving yours.

“Pretty smooth, prince fucking charming.” Eddie thinks.

But he believes he can do one better. He may not be a gentleman but it’s not like you ever needed that from him anyway. Taking the same hand Steve kissed, Eddie places his lips over the same spot before tracing his lips up along your ring finger. He notices the slight shiver that courses through you, goosebumps rising along your soft skin. A chaste kiss is press along the soft pad of your fingertip, his tongue briefly tasting you.

“That should hold me until your return,” Eddie says, licking his lips before shooting Steve a shit-eating smirk. “Don’t be too long though or I’ll have to come in and get you myself.”

You nod in a daze, reluctantly parting from them while awkwardly stumbling into class; your knees buckling.

“You little devil.” Steve says with his arms crossed.

“Oh, you love it.” Eddie gloats.

[caitlinbueckers]

told you so.

kate martin x reader

2.9k

woooooh this is a fucking doozy guys. literally received one (1) anon and then i blacked out for an hour and a half soooo here’s this ! realized during this journey that kate martin means an unfathomable amount to me and it’s like . Actually concerning 🔥🔥

ANYWAYS it’s giving Kate martin’s controversially hidden girlfriend that goes lowk public at the wnba draft like SHUT UP

18+ AS FUCK

“babe, quit looking at me like that.”

if there’s one thing you know, above the fact that you were certain there was gonna be an unsuspected draft tonight, was that kate martin could be such a bitch in the morning.

not that this was new for you, in any sense— you’d been more than used to it since the dawn of your relationship, learning all the little things about her that made her tick. whether that was her favorite to least favorite foods, or teams, even her obsession with fucking hot sauce.

you knew she still slept with her childhood blankie, the one currently curled under her chin atop the hotel comforter because she’s ridiculous, and because nobody has ever and would ever disrespect her blankie game.

and above all, you knew how much she wasn’t a morning person.

“you’re so dramatic,” you snort, pushing yourself up onto your elbows with a tired, but mocking voice as she emits a slow groan, turning to shove her face into the pillow, her body curling away from yours in an act of indignance that only makes you laugh.

you were far too used to her acting like a baby, so the action only made you sit up on your knees, slinging a leg over her so you could straddle her sides, leaning down to pepper kisses against the side of her face as she lets out a string of groans that turn into halfhearted chuckles, until her hands are planted firmly against your thighs, bare due to the oversized IOWA shirt that she insisted on you wearing.

‘for good luck,’ you remembered her snickering, something you knew was really just ‘easy access’.

her voice is still hoarse from sleep, quiet and raspy and tinged with that midwestern accent that you’ll never give up on bullying her for, when she whispers, “dude, you’re so annoying.”

of course, she proves it by hoisting you off of her, onto the bed, simulating something like a WWE smackdown moment as she rolls over onto you, mumbling something that you really can’t decipher due to her face in your neck, your chest, basically every place she knows will pull that hysterical, annoyingly high pitched laugh out of you, that for some reason, she loves.

“can’t believe you made it here.” she murmurs quietly against your cheek, lips moving lazily against the skin before she lays a smacking kiss there, and it’s almost gross, how much saliva she uses, but you snicker anyway, hand coming up to stroke through her blonde strands.

in all honesty, you couldn’t really believe it either. it had been soemthing close to hell trying to get it all straightened out, from clothes to hotels, to transportation and getting from des moines to brooklyn, not to mention just how fucking exclusive it had been to even get a seat open with all the hype surrounding women’s college basketball, the posterity that the final four teams had brought to the sport— not to mention, the fact that you and kate weren’t public in the fucking slightest, so having to account for that definitely sucked.

of course, it was a huge accomplishment, one that would definitely go down in the history of sports in general, so of course it was a huge fucking honor that your girlfriend was apart of it—

but also, you just thought it was hot.

in fact, the thought makes you smirk to yourself, corners of your mouth curling upwards in a self righteous grin as you turned your head, bumping noses with her to whisper, “can’t wait to see you all dressed up, baby,” she snickers at that, and you kiss her lips once, twice, three times before continuing, “and, i can’t wait to see where you get drafted so i can buy myself a plane ticket.”

the subsequent groan you receive is expected, but it doesn’t deter you even slightly, “and to watch you play on a professional fucking team, like, kate, i’m basically wet thinking about it right now.”

that makes her laugh out loud, and it warms you just a bit to hear it.

it’s not like kate has been super confident about it recently, usually choosing to not speak or avoid talking about how bad she wants it— especially considering the night being mainly for caitlin, an old teammate of yours from school and one of kate’s best friends on the squad, and arguably, one of the best players in the league (next to kate, of course).

still, it didn’t change your focus, or the unyielding hope you had for the possibility of kate getting drafted— no matter how late in the draft it could be.

“babe, quit selling yourself short, okay? you’re a legend. it would be literally, fucking stupid to pass you up, okay?” she doesn’t respond at first, her eyes closed and lashes brushing her cheeks, before she flutters them open just a crack, blue peeking through as you offer her a grin, one that she only rolls her eyes to, but kisses you regardless. you knew how much she hated to talk about it, but it didn’t matter.

you knew you were right, anyway.

“mmmiloveyou.” it comes out in one smushed whisper against your mouth, before you nip at her bottom lip, hand sneaking under the sports bra she wore to bed to brush your thumb across her ribcage, “get off of me and get ready, okay?”

—

caitlin was top draft pick, which was heavily speculated and yet still unexpected to a degree as you stood from your seat with a cacophony of shouts and hollers from around you, pride swelling thick in your chest. you’d known the girl since you two had been in middle school— seeing the same tall little girl that had hated losing in an elementary school gym turn into such an infamous champion was something alike to a parent watching their kid go off to college or something, you’d swear it.

but, to say it was nothing short of nervewracking would somehow be an understatement, and as much as you felt the impending pressure with each name called, you could only imagine how kate must’ve felt.

it wasn’t hard to tell— the way her molars steadily worked the inside of her cheek, the way her tongue would dart out to wet her lips again and again. her hand, jittering too much to be held stationary within your own, drumming along your bare thigh beside your dress— ‘self soothing’, she’d explained in a whisper, a halfhearted, almost weakened smile on her face when you’d given her a lifted eyebrow at the hand placement considering the amount of cameras that surrounded you, but somehow, despite the rush of adrenaline, decided you didn’t care either.

thankfully, you both weren’t anywhere too accessible, but it still made you wonder whether kate had been bullshitting just how anxious she actually had been the whole time for her to need your touch so badly, and for an aching moment of tenderness as you glance at her, you want to kiss her, hard, rub the tension between her eyebrows, relax the trouble in her eyes.

still, gabbie and jada were good eyes too, considering anytime the camera would so much as even pan past you two, jada would hit you with a solid elbow, one to remind you that your poker face was shit, and perhaps you’d have to try just a little harder to pretend you weren’t totally, irrevocably in love with the woman beside you.

but slowly, it was all starting to click into place.

the cameras began panning to kate more and more, your own eyes flickering to the set and noticing how everytime you’d look, there’d be an official looking right past you, right at kate. a surge of excitement rose within you, one that had the words bubbling from your mouth in an urgent whisper,

“baby, i think—“

until an official, dressed in black with a wireless pair of headphones in each ear and a smile, touched kate’s shoulder.

“ms. martin, we’re gonna go ahead and have you and your party move down the aisle just a bit— there’s been a slight seating issue, if that’s okay with you guys?”

jada elbows you extra hard this time, and for some reason it solidifies that feeling you get, one that makes your heart leap as you all nod, getting to your feet without argument, only as kate turns to give you a look that’s supposed to be scolding, but fuck, you can see the glimmer of hope in it that makes your chest constrict, your eyes burn in pride.

“you’re giving me eyes, and for what?” she hums, the teeth against her cheek working overtime as you all settle into the new seats, kate at the end of the aisle, and a fluttery feeling in your chest, “no reason.” you say it almost smugly, as if you know something she doesn’t, and you don’t, but god, you can feel it.

the names fly off, left and right, number 16, and kate’s knee starts bouncing slightly, number 17 and your heart feels like it’s going way too fucking fast, number 18, and jada peers around you to glance at kate, and then…

las vegas, aces— kate martin.

if watching caitlin win had felt like a parent watching their child, this must’ve been adjacent to winning the fucking lottery.

you’re on your feet in mere seconds, the tears that had built finally dripping down your cheeks, a fact you’d only come to find embarrassing once you realize how visible they are on the playback, but fuck it, your girl was going pro.

she wastes no time in wrapping you up, her face ducking into your shoulder as your arms twine around her middle, thinking subconsciously of how you know you shouldn’t risk it, but kate doesn’t seem to mind, only releasing you with a single arm to embrace jada, and then gabbie, before she’s back to you.

of course, it doesn’t occur to you in the moment, that it’s a hard launch— no, it doesn’t really sink in until she kisses you hard against the temple before she’s breezing down the aisle, the subsequent eruption in applause leaving you starstruck, in silent awe.

after that, it’s somewhat of a blur— she takes her picture and accepts her jersey, the newscasters going off on some spiel about your girlfriends work ethic, her attitude, her endurance, everything you already fucking knew, had known for so long, that she’d finally have a chance to prove.

the moment she’s back beside you, it also doesn’t register to you that she must’ve been just as accepting about the reveal, because it’s only a second that she’s in her seat before she plants a soft kiss to your mouth, the dark lipstick you’d been steadily biting off in anxiety sticking to hers and she’s grinning, bigger than she had all day, and for a moment, you think you might actually collapse because god,

you love her. so fucking much.

“told you so,” you make out between the tears, smiling through the tightness in your voice that makes you sound warbled, whimpering even as she just laughs at you, her thumb careful to wipe beneath your eyes, “guess you did.”

of course, it’s only customary that after such a good night, everyone must get fucked up— so, that’s exactly what happens.

you get to gush to caitlin— hugging her tight around the neck and congratulating her a million times, to which she reciprocates when it comes to you and kate, garnering a blush on your already alcohol flushed cheeks, rolling your eyes as you punch her arm.

“whatever, fever.”

“whatever, ‘ace’.”

you pretend you don’t notice the quotations she puts around it, and give her a friendly middle finger instead— if kate was an ace, that meant you basically were too, at least by proxy.

“hey money,” you call to kate affectionately, seeing only the back of her head as she talks to gabbie, your arms sliding around her waist to hold her tight from behind.

“my love,” she greets with a smile, looking over her shoulder to pucker her lips at you, expecting a kiss that you so easily return. it feels fucking terrifying, in all honesty, to be so open, but you can’t find it within you to care enough to give it up— not when she’s this happy.

“dude, you totally knew, didn’t you? there’s no way you would’ve started crying like that unless you knew.” she’s drunk, chattering at a volume level beyond what’s needed considering you were right behind her, hand sneaking beneath her blazer, but you can’t help the way you shrug, “i’m always right, huh?”

later that night, she shows you just how right you are.

it’s past a decent hour to still be tugging off clothes from the night prior— the clock read four in the morning, but the windows spoke of the twinkling lights that surrounded, the city not quite awake, but never asleep.

“you’re a pro,” you hum against her mouth as you tug off her blazer, hands making quick work of the belt that kept you from exploring, smirking at the look she gives you, daring and all too fucking sexy, “it’s so hot to think about.”

“yeah?” her fingers hook beneath the straps of the dress until she’s dragging them down your shoulders, “you want me to show you how professionals do it?”

the next thing you know she’s between your legs, nothing but a white top and her slacks on, unbuttoned, as she hikes a leg over her shoulder, kisses along the inside of your thigh with an intensity only comparable to how she is after a really good game.

“fuck—!” it leaves your mouth in a sound that’s almost unrecognizable, the realization that you’d been pleasantly and uncomfortably horny ever since the draft had ended making itself known considering just how much kate had been unrelenting during press— hands on your hips or on the inside of your thigh, toying with the hair on the back of your neck or grasping the inside of your elbow to lead you along.

she knew it drove you crazy, you knew she’d make it up to you later.

her mouth makes easy work on you, tongue long and flat as she laps against your cunt, rough in all the ways that she knew you could handle— thumbs pressing fingerprint bruises into your skin, breath hot and heavy against your clit, hips moving on their own accord as you gasp out a string of incoherent whimpers. “shit, baby- just… just like that.”

it wasn’t like kate had ever failed at getting you off, but tonight, she performed as if it was her last game, greedy almost as she drinks you in, making sure to not leave one bit of you unchecked. her tongue is almost sinful in the way it makes your voice careen, high and whining, your hand finding a permanent tangle into her already mussed hair.

but she’s cocky tonight, presumptuous right before you orgasm as she raises her head to kiss your thigh, biting the skin before she’s climbing onto the bed beside you, too tall to be graceful, but you’re too fucking horny to even spare her the laughs you usually give.

“up, c’mere.” she’s breathless still, but she doesn’t let you rest for even a second, leaning across you to curl her fingers around your thigh to tug you up from your laying position, rousing you from the hazy, almost delirious state of mind as you push yourself up, letting out a shaking breath when she’s sliding your leg over her chest, hands grazing up the back of your thighs until she’s pulling you, right over over her mouth.

“kate, wha- you’re so— fuck.”

any semblance of words or sense seem to leave you in one second, as she flattens her tongue against the wetness that’s collected, the friction almost unbearable when her head tilted upwards, nose brushing hard against your clit in a way that pulls a cry from your lips. she’s unfaltering, diligent, unabashed in the way she’s moving your hips, the way she pairs each grind against her nose with a curl of her tongue, and really, it’s over before it fucking starts.

her mouth is glossy, damp when she’s done, and she smiles and it’s arrogant as she’s sliding you back down to sit you against her hips, the mere control she had of your body making you bright red as you pant pathetically, reduced to fucking nothing by her mouth.

it makes you throw your head back with a whimpering sigh, “don’t fucking look at me like that.” you complain, legs still open, thighs still trembling as she races her hands along them, “tired already?”

funnily enough, you were far from fucking tired.

“actually… was thinking about showing you some celebrity treatment?” you muse softly, as she peels off her own top, eyebrows raising, her thumb swiping along the edge of her lip before she’s placing it on the bottom of yours, pressing until it dips into your mouth, the heady taste of what you knew was yourself finding a place on your tongue.

she smirks, tongue poking between her teeth as your stomach fucking turns almost, arousal prickling unforgivingly at you once again.

“ooh,” she muses under her breath, eyes laser focused on the thumb she’d placed between your lips, voice coming out in a whisper, “i like the sound of that.”

she’s smirking though, because sex between you two have never been anything completely serious— that’s just not how kate operates, “ace money martin’s got a ring to it, huh?”

“shut up.”

“make me.”

so, you do.

[multicohn]

summary: while waiting for the outcome of qualifying, the cameras capture a precious moment between yuki and his girlfriend

warnings: none

pairing: fem! reader x yuki tsunoda

genre: drabble, fluff, short smau at the end

author note: i swear i have other drivers in my drafts but i just love yuki 😭😭

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

y/n didn’t attend many of yuki’s races because of her studies. he didn’t mind, but would get rather giddy upon having her with him. people suspected that yuki is in a relationship, but they lack proper proof. y/n didn’t really care if they went public, yuki would most likely go all keyboard warrior if someone disrespected her or their relationship — she feels bad for his manager who will have to face the consequences of yuki’s future actions.

“hey” yuki pressed a kiss to her cheeks as y/n typed away on her laptop

she had decided on staying in hospitality while yuki raced for three reasons: not to distract him, to do her course work, and worry in peace.

“you almost done?” qualifying has been delayed due to the rain, which frustrated y/n as the internet was absolutely trash

“just gotta some stuff, why?”

“wanna come down to the garage? i’m bored and the rain doesn’t look like it’ll clear up soon” y/n shrugged, she didn’t have any reason to deny his request

yuki smiled brightly and went to grab his jacket while y/n packed up. she softly laced her fingers with his together before they made their way back to the garage.

the vcarb crew members knew that y/n is someone important to their driver, but seeing them holding hands made everyone in his garage do a double take.

“where do you want to sit?” y/n looked around silently before plopping down onto the ground

“it’s cold!” she exclaimed immediately making yuki laugh

“of course it’s going to be cold” he playfully rolled his eyes before sitting down

y/n opened her laptop and started where she left off while yuki busied himself by talking with his race engineer.

“i’ll leave you two alone for a bit” yuki glanced over at his girlfriend who was laser-focused on her work

he let out a small hum before leaning onto her shoulder, y/n instantly rested her own on top of his without taking her eyes off the screen.

“hey, that reminds me of a song” he pointed to the strange word in her document

“what’s it called?”

“i’ll sing it to you” he lifted his shoulder off her head and y/n momentarily took her eyes off the screen

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[miyasmagnolias]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 ♡

akaashi keiji x f!reader

you and your boyfriend are no strangers to overthinking — so when your period doesn't arrive on time, you take turns calming each other down.

"I'm late." Akaashi lifted his head from the manuscript he was editing, his glasses strewn haphazardly across his face. You were standing in the threshold of your shared study, having just returned from your second anxiety-induced bathroom break of the night.

Your boyfriend of five years turned in his creaky swivel chair to face the calendar tacked on the leftmost wall of the room, littered in neon post-it notes and defaced by both of your penmanships — Akaashi's short and slanted, yours perfectly proportioned.

Ever the editor, he said, "But I thought your draft wasn't due until next week." Being a romance author and dating a literary editor certainly had its perks, but in this moment, you couldn't decide whether to feel distressed or endeared by his misinterpretation. You took a deep breath and tried again.

"...not that kind of late."

It took him a second to understand. But when he finally did, the brain fog immediately cleared from his eyes.

"Oh — oh," he said, setting down his red pen and standing from his desk. "You're absolutely sure?"

You nodded. "Three days, to be exact."

Ever since you and Akaashi had started dating your senior year of college, you had been tracking your periods in hopes of preventing an unplanned pregnancy. You were both open to having kids — after all, you two were arguably the most responsible ones in your friend group, and baby fever passed between the two of you as easily as the common cold. But neither of you expected to have a child this early into your careers, and the mere idea was enough to make you feel queasy.

"Hey, hey," Akaashi interjected gently, reading the expression on your face like an open book. He walked around his cluttered desk and pulled you into his arms. "It's okay. I know we both have a tendency to overthink —"

"A great trait to pass onto a baby," you volleyed back.

"But if you really are pregnant, we would handle it," he continued, however amused by your quit wit. He tucked your head beneath his chin. "We'd ask all the right questions, read all the right parenting books. I'll hold your hand when your get your blood drawn, even though it makes me want to collapse."

Despite yourself, you chuckled at that.

"Besides," he added. "We practically raise Bokuto together already."

You were laughing even harder now, the waves of anxiety flooding your chest now subsiding, if only for a moment. Akaashi was the only one capable of doing that.

"Ugh," you cried, pulling away from him to massage your tired eyes. "How did this even happen?"

"I think you know perfectly well how this happened."

"Of course, I know," you drawled. "But we had a plan. A well-thought-out, career-oriented plan. You would go to grad school, I would publish a few more novels —"

"All of which we can still do if we become parents," Akaashi replied, taking both of your hands into his. "Y/N, I am well-aware of the fact that we both love planning our lives to a tee. In fact, your thoughtfulness and attention-to-detail are what I love most about you."

Your face flushed at his affectionate words.

"But maybe it would save us both the mental energy to let life surprise us every once in a while," he finished.

"With a baby?"

"With anything! Including the possibility of a baby." He pushed your hair of our of face and looked at you in sheer adoration. "I love you, Y/N. There is no other person I'd want to become a parent with. So while an unplanned pregnancy sounds daunting, I will be right there with you. We'd figure it out. Together."

Perhaps it was the steady confidence in his eyes — or the potential pregnancy hormones coursing through your bloodstream, but you started to cry. Taken aback, Akaashi immediately took you back into his arms.

"D-Did I say something wrong?" he stammered. You shook your head against his chest as you wept.

"No. No, you said everything right," you reassured him. "God, if this actually happens, Keiji, you're going to be an incredible parent."

Now it was his turn to get emotional.

You turned off the lamps at your respective desks and headed to the pharmacy two blocks away from your apartment, the sidewalks bustling with native bar-hoppers and starry-eyed tourists. You'd both walked this path several times before and had always returned with a bundle of items: Red Bull, microwave popcorn, the occasional pack of condoms. But never a pregnancy test. "Is there a specific brand that gives you the most accurate results?" Akaashi asked, immediately pulling out his phone to do some research in the middle of the family planning aisle. "It says here that digital pregnancy tests are generally considered more accurate, but you can get a pack of three analog tests for nearly half the price..."

He paced up-and-down the rows of tests, comparing and cross-referencing them like he did each of his authors' drafts.

"I mean, why don't we just buy them all? It can't hurt to cover all the bases," he murmured, grabbing one of each brand from the shelf and dumping them into your open arms.

"Keiji," you laughed, amused by how serious he was about all of this. "Don't you think we're being a little hasty?"

"You're right," your boyfriend said, shaking his head. "I haven't even checked the expiration dates on any of these — "

"No, that's not what I meant," you repeated firmly, meeting his frazzled gaze with your now-steady one. "I think we should buy only one pack. Your pick."

He looked at you as if you'd just suggested he dive off a steep cliff. "Are you sure?" "Yes," you promised him. "I don't even think I have enough pee for all the pregnancy tests I'm holding right now." His shoulders slumped from the steep drop in adrenaline, and he pressed his lips into a tight, nervous line before admitting, "I just want to make sure I'm doing everything right." "You already are," you reassured him, shifting all of the pregnancy tests over to one arm and reaching out to squeeze his shoulder with the other. "You don't need to overthink whether or not you're doing a great job, because you are. I wouldn't have let you possibly impregnate me if you weren't."

He released a shaky sigh, a sheepish smile on his face as he asked, "Can I still consult Google reviews?"

After finally selecting a pregnancy test and a pint of ice cream to share, you and Akaashi paid for your items and walked back to your apartment arm-in-arm.

"Do you remember the day we met?" he asked, the sounds of the city rumbling between you as you walked.

"Of course I remember. I wanted the last desk in the front row of our senior writing seminar, but someone got there before me," you said teasingly. "Though I think it was for the best. I developed a crush on the back of your head almost instantly."

"You did not."

"I'm not even kidding. I'm pretty sure I based all of my fictional love interests on you that year."

"That I picked up on."

"You did not."

He chuckled. "Don't get me wrong, I had to ask Bokuto to read your stories because I thought I was insanely self-absorbed for suspecting you'd base any character off of me. I'd never had anyone describe me so accurately. So...deeply," he confessed. "I was flattered. Truly."

You couldn't help the blush creeping up your neck. "I guess that's what I get, asking my crush to peer-review my work."

He bent down to press his lips to your temple. "I'm glad you did."

You climbed the stairs back to your apartment and unlocked the door, the small space crowded by stacks of books and half-empty mugs. You imagined what it would be like to rearrange the furniture to make room for a crib, what it would be like for you and Akaashi to read to your baby all the books you'd loved as children. The mere idea was enough to make your eyes well up again.

God, you thought to yourself, tearing open the box of pregnancy tests and inspecting the thick packet of instructions. Would you actually be disappointed if this test came back negative?

"I'll be right here if you need me," Akaashi said, gesturing to the couch. You nodded, walked into the bathroom, and closed the door.

After five minutes of working yourself up to peeing on the stick and another two of actually doing it, you ushered your boyfriend back into the bathroom. You'd placed the test face-down beside the sink, not wanting to know the results without him. Your heart hammered violently as you considered this piece of plastic's inane ability to tell your entire future in just a few measly lines.

"Hey," Akaashi reassured you for the millionth time that night, intertwining your hand in his. "No matter the outcome, I've got you."

"I know." You nodded. "I've got you, too."

His expression softened. "You ready?"

"Yeah," you said, and you meant it. After all, Akaashi Keiji had spent the past five years holding your heart with more patience and consideration you ever thought you deserved, and you had dedicated yourself fully to doing the same for him. You took care of each other amidst all anxieties. That alone was enough to assure you that, whatever the future held, you would be just fine.

Squeezing each other's hand one last time, you took a deep breath, reached for the pregnancy test, and turned it over. @miyasmagnolias, 2025

[band--psycho]

Poly!141 x Reader - You Look Like Yourself But You're Somebody Else (Prologue)

This is something that has been sat in my drafts for a long while!

I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated! Thank you for all the continued support💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

COD Masterlist / Poly!141 Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Warnings: Brief mentions of torture, feelings of guilt, mentions of betrayal

(Credit to the original owners of these pictures from Pinterest)

John was just about to drift off to sleep, he could feel his eyelids closing involuntarily as the exhaustion of the team's most recent mission caught up to him. He was too tired to even move, so just stayed sitting in his armchair allowing sleep to slowly take over him.

That was until his phone began ringing, the brightness of the screen illuminating a small area around him in the otherwise completely dark room. 

He sighed, muttering some curse words under his breath as he slowly opened his eyes to see who the caller was; there were very few people who would call him this late and three of them were upstairs asleep. 

It was Kate. 

Which was slightly surprising, seeing as she’d only just helped his team with their latest mission, he assumed she’d be home, with her wife, asleep at this hour. 

“Kate? Is everything alright?” John asked, his voice slightly deeper than normal due to his own exhaustion.

“I’m fine, John,” Kate said calmly, but despite her tone, John knew that something was wrong, why else would she be calling at this hour.

“I um…I have some news I think you should hear,” she continued, only making John's panic increase.

“Go on,”

“We found her, John,” 

Four words. 

That’s all it took. 

Four words that woke him up immediately. 

He knew who Kate was referring to. 

He didn’t need to hear your name, to know it was you. 

“Where?”

“An abandoned military base not far from London,”

London? 

How did you get back to London? 

You’d been so close all this time? 

There were so many questions rushing through his mind…but none of them were as important as the one that left his lips, “Is she alright?” 

He knew it was a stupid question, you’d been missing for the best part of a year; of course you weren’t going to be alright, but you were alive. That’s all that mattered. 

Kate didn’t answer his question right away though, the silence on the other end of the phone was almost deafening, until she finally spoke, “It looks like she’s working for them John,”

“What?” His tone filled with confusion, regardless of how much time had passed, you weren’t a traitor. 

“She wouldn’t betray us, Kate,”

“It’s nearly been a year John, everyone has their breaking points,”

He couldn’t help but wince slightly at her words; the idea of you being tortured flashing through his mind. 

“Shepherd won’t put you and your team on this, you’re too close to her.”

“Who do you think he’ll send?”

Again, it was another stupid question for John to ask, there was only one other team that Shepherd would send to ‘deal’ with you.

“Graves and his shadows,” Kate confirmed and that confirmation alone was enough to make John's blood run cold. 

Not only because of his team's history with Graves and his shadows but because John knew that he’d shoot you on sight, no questions asked. 

It’s what a good soldier should do. 

Probably what he would do if it wasn’t you…

But he couldn’t just shoot you, not after everything you’d been through together…not after he failed in his duty as your partner and Captain to protect you. 

He loved you, and he was aware he was letting his emotions of love and guilt cloud his judgement, but he needed to at least give you a chance to explain, to make sense of what was happening. 

“How long can you stall them for?” His question would’ve caught some people off guard, but Kate wouldn’t have called him so early without the intention of delaying giving news to Shepherd. 

She was giving him and his team that chance to help you, because before you went missing, she was one of your closest friends and John knew that she wanted this all to have a logical explanation as much as he did. 

“A few hours, it gives you a bit of a head start at least,” she answered, hearing the solemn tone in her voice.  

“Thanks, Kate,”

A few hours was better than nothing and with that thought in mind he rose to his feet and walked out of the living room.

“John, just be careful, I know how much you and the others care about Y/n…I do too, but if she’s a traitor…” there was a brief pause from Kate for a moment, the words she was about to say tasting like poison in her mouth, “…you know what you need to do,”

If being the very crucial word in that sentence. 

With that, John hung up the phone and ran up the stairs to wake the others 

He knew you weren’t a traitor. 

Maybe you were tricking the enemy into believing that you were on their side; being a type of double agent so to speak. 

It would make sense.

What didn’t make sense was why, if you were so close to home, you hadn’t reached out to any of them…

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @mermaniaa @fangirlfandomss @book-dragon03 @dulcecreatura @sunrise-willarive @amniotic115 @imdeadontheinside786 @asterionex @pinkyyoshi @yaradigital @euriiverse @eternallyvenus @midnight-shadow-cafe @mrstelford @barbersjoy @littlejoyfulthings

[fumiscripts]

✦ BUT I MISS YOU, COME HERE

Kaiser wonders why he feels like this.

He knows what it is, of course. It's that clawing, heavy feeling of missing someone. The type of yearning that has him frustrated at himself for feeling something as cringy as that. It's embarrassing, the way he wants to see your face. He wants to be within your presence. He wants to feel your hands on his face, fussing over how pretty he is in a way that makes him feel more flustered than smug.

No, he shouldn't even feel like this. Not when you're so confusing, constantly making him think that you're totally in love and then proceeding to be nonchalant. Ugh, you're so infuriating! Do you get a kick out of making him frustrated? You probably do. He can even hear your voice teasing him for longing like a loser. Always holding him tight and then letting him go.

Do you love him or not?

Why is he missing you, anyway! He's above that!

Kaiser slumps onto his bed, head hidden on the pillows and hoping that the ground eats him whole so that he doesn't have to face the fact that he's yearning.

You and your stupid face, stupid voice, stupid smile, stupid laugh, stupid way you run your hands through his hair before cupping his cheek and–

Damn it, he misses you. It's hard to see you when he's stuck in Blue lock, and god, he hates how he wishes you were right here.

He pulls out his phone, brows knitted as he opens your contact, hands gripping the device so hard it might break— if the way Kaiser's eyes were burning holes into your profile picture couldn't already crack the screen with how pointed they were— and typing out a message.

Kaiser considers telling you how you've been on his mind, quickly deleting that to save the last bits of his ego. He can't do that. Is he out of his mind? Instead, he types a ‘fuck you’, like that alone can show you how he feels.

He waited for a few moments, slightly lighting up when a bubble appeared, three dots animated, showing that you read his text and were drafting a reply. He expected a question mark or something, that would've made him feel a little better, knowing he got something like confusion out of you. It's a nice thought, considering you were always the one teasing him. But, of course, you will always turn things to your favor.

‘did u miss me that much?’

Kaiser throws his phone across the bed. No, he was not smiling. You're a cornball. He hates it. Ew. Cringe.

He definitely didn't hug, or rather, squish a pillow to his chest, wondering if you miss him, too.

masterlist

© fumiscripts 2024-2025. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[bueckers555]

WOULDN’T BE GONE — caitlin clark x reader

summary: in which, your relationship with caitlin ever since the draft has been one sided and you’re sick of it.

warnings: just angst sorryy

authors note. IM SORRY FOR BEING MIA college was kicking my ass (still is) and i’m trying my hardest not to crash out but here is an angsty fic, this is also heavily inspired by she wouldn’t be gone by blake shelton IK IK country music sue me it is unfortunately part of my roots so yes here she is

“i’m sick of this caitlin!”

you two had been going back and forth for a while about this, both too stubborn to admit who was in the right and who was in the wrong.

it’d been two months since caitlin went first pick in the wnba draft. two months of caitlin continuously forgetting about your date nights, two months of caitlin lagging hours on end and then eventually responding to your messages with one word replies, two months of wondering if caitlin would be home from practice at a decent hour or if you’d go to sleep in a cold, empty bed.

two. fucking. months.

of course, you understood the fact that caitlin’s job required almost all of her undivided attention and you were extremely proud of her and all her accomplishments.

but being second priority to her job was taking a toll on your mental health.

you were tired of being alone all the time. the sacrifices you made, picking up everything and moving to indiana with caitlin to be with her, felt pretty fruitless when you had barely seen her in your own apartment.

caitlin’s response came low at first as she rubbed her temples, “what do you want me to do?” and then she repeated it louder, throwing her arms up in frustration, “what do you want me to do?!”

“i want you to be here! you’re never here anymore, caitlin! i’m alone ALL THE TIME now!”

“that’s not fair. i’m doing this for us! for— for you!”

you shook your head, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “no. no. not for me. this is what you wanted! you wanted this! i didn’t—“

“i didn’t ask you to move to indiana with me!”

the statement felt like a slap to the face. caitlin, of all people, knew how hard of a decision it was to move to indiana. to be away from your family. your sister, your parents.

caitlin never pressured you into it, of course. she was insistent that if you had decided to stay in iowa, you’d make long distance work. but when you ultimately decided to stay with, whom you thought was the love of your life, caitlin couldn’t of been more happier.

the two of your popped a bottle of champagne in celebration and spent the night talking, laughing, planning your futures together.

a bittersweet memory that seemed so distant at the moment.

as you narrowed your eyes, you felt a tear roll down your cheek, followed by three or two more. “you know what, caitlin? you’re right. you didn’t ask. but it was a sacrifice i was willing to make for you!”

“you’re not the only one making sacrifices—“

the mere start of the sentence had you letting out a laugh, putting your hands behind your head as you paced back and forth. “you’re not listening.”

“i am listening—“

“no! you’re hearing me but you’re not listening to me!”

silence fell upon the two of you, both contemplating your next words because you both knew you guys were pretty close to crossing lines that couldn’t be uncrossed.

you placed your hands on the counter, leaning on it while hanging your head low, letting the tears drop onto the floor. “i can’t do this anymore,” you finally let out in a small whisper, but it hit caitlin in the gut. “i don’t want a life where i spend more time waiting for you than being with you.”

“you don’t mean that. please baby, stop.” caitlin’s warm hands were suddenly around your waist, leaning her head on your shoulder and kissing softly. “let’s just go to bed, yeah? i promise, i promise things will be different, okay? i’ll make more of an effort. i’ll try and get home on time for dinner. i know things aren’t easy right now, but i can’t lose you. we’ll figure it out, i’ll— i’ll try harder. okay?”

but even when those words eased your mind a little, you both knew the promise wouldn’t be kept.

so it wasn’t really a shock to you when you sat at the dinner table, candles lit and your meal sitting in front of you with the empty chair across from you.

you cooked caitlin’s favorite meal, wore her favorite set underneath your clothes that was her favorite color. you looked at the clock, and when it read 10:30, you scoffed.

you were fed up. you were well over your boiling point.

and, so, when caitlin entered your guys’ apartment at midnight, her heart ached a little at the sight of your untouched meals at the table, and candle she assumed was lit at one point.

she rubbed a hand over her face, quickly walking to your shared room. then she froze in her spot.

your side of the room was empty. from your nightstand being stripped of its decorations, to your side of the closet being completely empty.

the suitcases you used for when you guys planned vacations were gone. along her your toothbrush, makeup, hair products, basically everything that made your shared apartment shared was gone.

caitlin wasted no time picking up her phone and clicking your contact, holding the phone to her ear. she anxiously waited, suddenly feeling as if her whole life was falling apart.

voicemail. she tried seven more times. all went straight to voicemail.

her mind immediately went straight to denial, there was no way you picked up and left, right? you always said you would, but caitlin never believed you. never truly believed you.

or maybe she just didn’t listen to you.

she snatched her keys from the table, leaving the apartment and shutting the door loudly behind her. she bet all her money that her neighbors hated her.

that’s how she ended up in her car, speeding down the highway on a rainy night, frantically calling all of your shared friends.

she started with your mom, driving down the road at 90 miles an hour and switching lanes like an absolute maniac. she’d gotten honked at at least four times already.

“caitlin.” your mom greeted, though judging by her cold and and distant tone, and her use of caitlin’s full name instead of cait, caitlin could tell the news had no doubt got back to her.

“do you know where she is, mrs. l/n?” her question came right off the bat, figuring she had no time to waste in finding you.

your mom’s answer was quiet. and caitlin learned your families habits quickly enough to know that when she went quiet, she was lying. “please—“

“i’m afraid i can’t speak with you now, goodbye caitlin.”

then the line went dead.

with her left hand on the steering wheel, she punched the middle with her right and threw her head back.

her next call was kate because you three all had been very close throughout your iowa college years. kate always understood you in a way that made caitlin jealous.

and for a while, she she was a topic of argument in your relationship because caitlin constantly needed reassurance that she was the one you wanted.

there was clearly a rift in caitlin and kate’s friendship after, but after the move to indiana, they seemed to be mending their friendship. until now.

kate answered on the first ring with a hard question. “what’d you do, clark?”

“kate, i— i fucked up. she’s gone. i don’t know where she went. her stuff’s gone, her clothes are gone, she’s gone.”

“damn it, caitlin. you always do this shit— you drove her away, again.“

“do you know where she is?” caitlin demanded, arriving to her first destination.

“no.”

“you’re lying.”

“no i’m not—“

“i should’ve figured you wouldn’t help me find her. you’ve always been pathetically in love with her, ever since college.” caitlin scoffed out bitterly.

“caitlin—“

“know what? no. you’ve always been on her side, since day one. i can’t even do this right now—“

“you’re frustrated with yourself, about driving y/n away, so your picking a fight with me.” kate spoke calmly, fueling caitlin’s anger.

“don’t fucking psycho analyze me, right now martin.” with that she abruptly ended the call, getting out of the car and walking into the ice cream shop the both of you loved dearly.

after that, she went to your favorite coffee shop, after that, nalyssa’s apartment, then aliyah’s, then the hotel near your apartment.

she held her face in her hands, finally letting the sobs ripple through her. she suddenly realized how under appreciated your voice was. she was forgetting how sweet it was, how beautiful it was when you hummed her to sleep.

she was forgetting your voice already.

and she realized that she should’ve fought harder. should’ve told you how much she loved you, cherished you, needed you.

maybe, just maybe, if she had done that, you wouldn’t be gone.

safe to say caitlin didn’t find you that night, and no one told her where you might’ve went.