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humanjarvis · 3 months ago

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wasting your honor

synopsis: at akso hospital’s charity gala, you realize how smart zayne is. how much smarter he is than you.

tags: fluff to angst to fluff/comfort, reader is insecure about their intelligence, reader thinks zayne deserves better, references to socioeconomic differences, potentially inaccurate references to medical terminology and protocore stuff, misunderstanding, reader ghosts zayne for a week, he comes to find her, reader tears up, love confessions, happy ending pairing: zayne x fem!reader (referred to as “she” one time), reader doesn't have to be mc word count: 2.4k

a/n: i’m rly rly proud of this it may be my favorite thing i’ve written so far please read it

“Are you sure I should be going to this?” you ask, the hesitation clear in your voice.

“Why shouldn’t you? Plenty of other attendees will be bringing their partners as plus-ones,” Zayne says matter-of-factly. “Of course, if you’re feeling unwell, it’s best to stay behind and rest. I'm sure I'll be able to manage on my own.”

“No, no, I feel fine,” you reply, chewing your bottom lip nervously. “It’s just…I've never been surrounded by so many highly educated people. I’m afraid I'll slip up, or say something wrong, or embarrass you, or…”

Before you can ramble on, he walks up to you and squishes your cheeks between his large scarred hands. “Darling,” he begins, a soft smile on his face, “none of that matters. Just be yourself, and I’m sure you’ll be the most refined person there by a mile.”

Akso Hospital’s annual charity gala was the topic of his impromptu pep talk. Each year, the event made front-page news from drawing in hundreds of world-renowned physicians to support a pressing medical cause. Tonight’s gala would be hosted by a team of legendary neurologists, and the venue—a prestigious museum of anthropology—was equally celebrated.

Zayne, who usually struggled at such events, had invited you as his plus-one with youthful hope in his hazel eyes, and there was no way you could have rejected his offer. At first, you’d been thrilled at the prospect of making an official outing together—you rarely got the chance due to his busy schedule—but as the days passed by, the anxiety of being average in a room of geniuses had caught up to you.

So as you pace back and forth before the full-length mirror, fidgeting with your dress at every turn, you can only hope that he’s right.

As Zayne puts the car in park, your stomach lurches with dread.

In the few seconds you have to panic to yourself while he walks around to open your door, the way your mind formulates last-minute escape plans would put a supercomputer to shame. Maybe you could fake sick—no, you’d told him you felt fine—or maybe with enough pressure you could lightly sprain your ankle in your hee—

The door swings open.

Fuck.

He takes your hand and guides you out of the car, and as you walk toward the museum entrance, you’re too focused on trying not to trip over your flowing gown to take in the scenery. The lights twinkling in the foggy night, the verdant plants lining the entryway in carefully arranged rows, the opulent fountain flowing over small hills of bronze coins. It’s a lovely setup, really. If only your brain would allow you to enjoy it.

After passing through the lavish front hall, decorated with colorful displays of ancient artifacts, you’re greeted by a grand ballroom layout. Round banquet tables with crystal centerpieces are scattered throughout the space, and the upscale alcohol behind the bar could probably bankrupt you with one sip.

All around you, people clad in gold watches and diamond necklaces mingle with thinly veiled scrutiny, and you silently bless Zayne for personally sponsoring your event attire.

As you head further into the room, a striking brunette woman in her 40s saunters up to you. “Zayne!” she gushes, “It’s so nice to see you could make it! With how antisocial you are, I was afraid you’d find a reason not to come. Oh, and who’s this?” she asks, eyes passing over you dismissively. “I’ve never seen you working with Zayne before—perhaps you’re in nephrology or gastroenterology?”

You have no idea what either of those words mean.

Luckily, like always, Zayne saves the day. “Actually, this is my partner. She’s accompanying me tonight.”

“Partner,” the woman repeats, her voice raising an octave in disbelief. “…What a surprise! I didn’t realize the aloof Dr. Zayne was seeing someone. How lucky you are to have him,” she finishes with a stiff smile. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it, then. Enjoy your evening!” she calls as she flags down a waiter and scoops up two glasses of wine.

“That was our chief of staff,” Zayne says flatly. “Surely you can understand how she scored the position with such a charming personality.”

You chat with—or Zayne chats with, while you stand off awkwardly to the side—a few more guests before the main portion of the event begins.

Dr. Greyson had roped him into a conversation about a thrilling surgery from the day before, and an intern who’d somehow managed to get on the invite list had bombarded him with questions while you watched with a blank smile.

When the lights gradually dim and you’re directed to your seats, you let out a sigh of relief. Finally, a moment to breathe, you think.

The hours pass. Speech after speech travels in and out of your ear, the jargon too advanced for you to process before the next utterly alien word comes along.

Flipping open your program in restlessness, you realize you’ve reached the final segment of the gala just as the next speaker takes the stage.

“Again, thank you all so much for your attendance tonight,” he starts. “I’m proud to announce that we’ve raised a record-breaking amount for medical research involving Protocores—what a historic feat. Each of you should be immensely proud of your contributions.”

Your claps seem too loud in the polite applause. Shifting your gaze to the guests around you, you match their enthusiasm—or lack thereof—with an inward grimace.

“Now, before the night ends, we do have one more achievement to celebrate. Dr. Zayne Li, who I believe is here with us tonight, has recently passed an extraordinary milestone—in his time with Akso, our chief cardiac surgeon has successfully completed over 800 surgeries. To show our gratitude, we’d like to present him with the Medical Impact Award. Dr. Li, if you’re in the audience, won’t you come up and celebrate this accomplishment?”

This time, you don’t hold back your applause. As Zayne rises from his seat, an endearing look of bewilderment on his face, your heart swells with admiration. Lucky, was what that woman had called you earlier. You suppose she’d been right.

As Zayne climbs up the steps, the presenter hands him a polished wooden plaque. Saying a brief thanks, he struts to the mic, a practiced look of confidence on his face now that the surprise has worn off.

“Thank you for this honor,” he begins steadily. “It’s with immense privilege that I can stand here before you today, but I’d like to take this time to commend our fundraising efforts tonight. The millions of dollars we’ve raised will be dedicated to investigating the nature of pathological conditions that originate in Protocore exposure. This will allow hundreds of medical personnel in and outside of Linkon to treat previously unsolvable cases. In regards to my own work, I’m particularly grateful—with the generosity you’ve all shown tonight, you’ve made me incredibly optimistic for the future of treating Cardiac Protocore Syndrome. I’ll keep that in mind every day—so the next 800 surgeries can go smoothly and with quick recoveries.”

As his speech ends, your look of admiration melts into a resigned, defeated smile.

For the first time that night, the room breaks out into thunderous applause. And for the hundredth time that night, you feel like you don’t deserve to stand by his side.

You’d hope that he’d chalked up your silence on the ride home to sleepiness. When he’d walked you to your apartment door and leaned in to kiss you goodnight, you’d merely stood there in indecision, afraid to taint his brilliance with your mediocrity. And then, with a strained smile, you’d shut the door in his face.

That was the last time you’d seen him for the rest of the week. And for half of the next.

For six days, you’d been completely ghosting him, too wrapped up in your insecurities to respond to his numerous messages.

Thank you for accompanying me last night. I had a wonderful time, he’d texted on the first day.

One of the nurses came up to me and gushed over your dress. She asked where you bought it from, but I told her we got it custom-ordered, he’d said on the second.

The fourth day. Would you like to join me for a meal later? We’ve had to reschedule a surgery. I’ll be getting home earlier than usual tonight.

Last night. Please respond to me when you get a chance.

And no matter how badly you wanted to, each time your fingers hovered over the keyboard, they froze in paralyzing shame.

You’d passed the time like you had before you met him—hiding from the sun, rewatching comfort movies, and wallowing in bed with gloomy ballads in the background.

But on the seventh day, your doorbell rings.

Thinking it’s the package of pastries you’d ordered from the bakery near Zayne’s house—you always got a box when you were sad—you hastily swing open the door.

And then fight the urge to shut it right back.

Because standing on your doorstep is a tired-looking Zayne, frowning in hurt and confusion.

“Hello. Is your phone broken?” he asks worriedly, checking your body for signs of illness.

“Um…no,” you mutter, suddenly fixated on your navy blue slippers. “Why don’t you come in? If you want to.”

With an infinitesimal squint, he crosses the threshold of your apartment. All things considered, it’s a good thing he’s here, given the way your heart is beating out of your chest.

“You haven’t been responding to my calls or messages since the gala,” he begins carefully. “I was afraid something was wrong. There were so many people present—maybe you’d caught a virus. But,” he continues, taking in your disheveled yet healthy appearance, “it seems I was incorrect.”

The guilt that’s been eating at you for days suddenly devours your insides whole, and your emotional dam bursts open.

“I-I’m glad you got to go, and that you got your award—your speech was great, by the way,” you sniffle. “But while we were there, the whole time I was thinking how much more successful you are than me. How much more intelligent. I mean, that lady asked me if I was an entomologist, or whatever, and I didn’t even know what she meant! At the end of it I just…thought you’d be better off without me. That you deserve better. Smarter. That’s why I’ve been quiet the last few days,” you finish, eyes downcast.

His puzzled frown deepens at your revelation.

“Why would I expect you to possess medical knowledge when that’s not your field of study?”

Oh.

You really were stupid, weren’t you.

“You…don’t think I’m too…average for you?”

“No, have I ever indicated that I do? If so, I apologize for making you feel that way. It’s the complete opposite of how I view you,” he reveals, stepping closer. “I’m also terribly sorry I didn’t notice you were so uncomfortab—”

“No,” you interrupt him shakily. “I tried to hide it. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Zayne gives you a sympathetic grin before starting over. “Regardless, I regret not being able to take care of you like I should have. And as much as I wish you hadn’t, I understand why you took the time to process your feelings. But to make one thing clear,” he asserts, voice deepening in emphasis. “I’m the one who’s lucky to have you.”

As you look up at him through glassy eyes, your breath hitches. “What?” you croak, voice hoarse from built-up tears.

“Darling,” he begins gently. “Did you ever consider whether I like socializing with those types of people?”

Mouth parting in a small ‘o,’ you shake your head meekly.

He smiles wryly. “After every previous one of those events, I’ve gone home with an ear-splitting headache. Last week was the first time I’ve ever enjoyed going,” he chuckles. “Not because of that award—which was flattering but unnecessary considering I was only doing my job,” he quips, “but because you were there beside me.”

“No amount of medical knowledge can compare to the peace you make me feel. The comfort. I asked you to be my plus-one for one reason only: the person I love makes me happy.”

At the confession, your battered heart soars and your cheeks burn so hot you think they’ll melt off. Timidly, you inch closer to him, instinctually unsure if he’ll welcome you back into his arms.

He answers your unvoiced question almost immediately, pulling you to him by the waist before he speaks again. “Although,” he pauses, giving you a concerned once-over, “if you were truly in so much distress over attending, you could have just refused. At the expense of my own happiness, I would’ve preferred you had.”

“But you seemed so excited to go,” you groan, laying your head against his chest. You shiver at the contact—you must’ve missed him more than you realized. “I guess I was wrong.”

“Not entirely. I was excited to go with you.”

At his response, you bury yourself impossibly further into him, and he strokes your back tenderly. “Well, that was one reason I agreed—you looked so cute when you asked, I just couldn’t say no,” you grumble, lightly pinching his waist. “But the other part was…with all the hours you spend at the hospital—800 surgeries and all—we never really get to go to big events as a couple. I just wanted to take the opportunity, I guess. I thought it would feel nice.”

Zayne sighs deeply and presses a light kiss to your hair. “And it felt bad instead,” he surmises. “How can I make it up to you? I’ll ask Greyson to trade shifts with me if I need to, just say the word.”

“Well,” you start, peering up at him shyly. “There is an office party next week that I’ve been dreading going to. All alone,” you pout. “If he comes with me, the illustrious Dr. Zayne will get to see how we regular people socialize.”

Chuckling softly, he kisses your forehead. “He wouldn’t dare miss out on that. He’ll be there,” he promises, squeezing your hip in confirmation. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, I believe the bakery van just dropped something off at your door. Shall we open it?”

In an instant, you peel yourself off of him and sprint for the door before freezing in your tracks. You were forgetting something.

“Wait!” you exclaim, turning back around to face him. With a nervous gulp, you say the words you think you’ve known for a long time.

“I asked you to come with me, Zayne,” you breathe, “because the person I love makes me happy, too.”

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fvsm4x · 8 months ago

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𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 (you) !

synopsis. Prince Satoru has just come of age, and it’s tradition in his kingdom for the crown prince to be presented with potential suitors. Despite his power and prestige, he’s lived a life of strict rules and sheltered isolation, knowing little about romance and even less about pleasure. His parents arrange for a tutor to guide him on how to properly fuck and pleasure a partner

+ warnings/content. Prince! Gojo S. + tutor fem! reader - satoru is a virgin and inexperienced - virginity lose - p in v - feral gojo a bit - royal au - gojo has a big dick - oral (fem. receiving) - fingering - size difference a bit - gojo is pussydrunk - shy/soft gojo

+ word count. 9.1k (Oppsie daisy)

a/n. This is prolly one of my favs works so I HOPE U LIKE IT

banner by unknown (tell me if u know from who it is!!)

The doors to Prince Satoru’s chambers loomed before you, tall and intricately carved, a testament to the wealth and grandeur of the palace. Your fingers hovered just above the handle, and you took a steadying breath, reminding yourself of the role you were about to step into. The position was an unusual one, to say the least—both highly honored and slightly scandalous, whispered about only behind closed doors and far from the ears of the public.

When the queen had summoned you, you’d expected to be given a task of courtly refinement—perhaps tutoring Prince Satoru in diplomacy or etiquette, something befitting his status. But the court had other plans. Prince Satoru was soon to come of age, and despite his immense power and status, he had led a remarkably sheltered life. Royal duty dictated that he was to be groomed for the throne, but there was more to kingship than formalities and court rituals. To make matters more complicated, it was tradition that the crown prince be well-versed in… more intimate knowledge.

And so, here you were—his tutor for this secret, delicate subject. The court deemed it crucial that Satoru gain a proper understanding of how to navigate romantic and physical intimacy, skills thought essential to his future rule. And though this education would be handled with the utmost discretion, the weight of it wasn’t lost on you. This was about more than teaching the young prince; it was about shaping the experiences that would prepare him for life, even if it meant starting with things he’d never before dared to touch

One of the royal guards gave you a nod, signaling that the prince awaited inside, and with that final reassurance, you pushed open the heavy doors.

The room was grand, adorned with tapestries of deep blue and golds, velvet curtains framing the windows to keep prying eyes out. Soft candlelight bathed the chamber, casting warm, flickering shadows that seemed to make the room feel smaller, more intimate. And there, in the midst of it all, stood Prince Satoru.

He looked as regal as ever, his white hair falling around his shoulders in soft waves that caught the light, yet his expression was tense, the lines of his jaw just slightly taut as he took in your arrival. He stood tall, shoulders straight, but there was a nervous energy about him, a flicker of uncertainty in his piercing blue eyes. For all his power, he was, in this moment, simply a young man facing something entirely foreign.

He looked almost hesitant, his fingers curling at his sides as he took a few tentative steps forward.

“Are you… the tutor?” he asked, his voice soft but clear.

You bowed, folding your hands in front of you. “Yes, Your Highness. I’m honored to serve you.”

He returned your bow with a slight nod, his gaze hesitant but unwavering. “Thank you for coming,” he replied, his voice quiet and just a little rough around the edges. After a pause, he continued, “And please— call me satoru.”

You blinked at him before replying,“of course, Satoru.“

He continued,“I understand you’re here to… teach me certain things

There was a vulnerability to his words, as if he were admitting some private, embarrassing truth, and you felt a flicker of sympathy. “Yes,” you said softly, taking a step closer. “I’m here to help you learn at your own pace. We don’t have to rush anything. It’s perfectly normal to have questions, and we can take things one step at a time.”

He let out a breath, and a faint, almost sheepish smile flickered across his lips. “That’s… good to know,” he murmured. “To be honest, I’m not sure where to begin. I’ve read about some of it—romance, intimacy—but it always seemed… different in stories. Simpler. Or maybe more dramatic.” He paused, then quickly added, “But I have no practical experience. I don’t even know what’s expected of me.”

Was he really that inexperienced?

It was hard for you to believe. Prince Satoru was strikingly attractive, with an air of confidence that most people would expect from someone well-versed in such matters. Yet here he was, seeming genuinely lost. You’d have guessed he at least knew the basics—how to start, how to read a moment. But the way he looked at you, the way his questions hovered in the air with such uncertainty, made it clear that he truly knew next to nothing.

You nodded, taking in his words. “That’s perfectly alright,“

Satoru’s gaze flicked away, almost as if embarrassed by his own curiosity. “It’s strange. I’m supposed to lead a kingdom, yet I feel so… out of place when it comes to this.” His eyes returned to yours, vulnerable but resolute. “It feels almost… childish, not knowing these things.”

You smiled gently. “It’s not childish at all, satoru. You’ve been raised in a very particular way, with rules and responsibilities that few can understand. Besides, being inexperienced doesn’t make you any less capable.”

He studied you closely, his intense blue eyes absorbing your words, as if testing their weight before trusting them. There was a softening in his expression, a subtle shift from wary curiosity to a quiet resolve. “I think I understand,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But… where do I start? What do I need to know?”

Slowly, you stepped closer, letting him feel your presence before you closed the distance entirely. Your hand hovered in the air, close enough for him to notice, but not so close as to assume his permission. “May I?” you asked, your tone gentle but firm, a reassurance that he was in control of every moment.

He seemed caught off guard, his gaze briefly dropping to your hand before meeting your eyes again. There was a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps a bit of nervous anticipation—but he nodded, his voice soft yet steady. “Of course.”

You reached forward, your fingers just grazing his hand, warm and slightly tense under your touch. Slowly, you guided his hand toward your waist, resting it there carefully. His fingers settled against you, his grip hesitant but steady. His hand was large, enveloping the curve of your waist, and the warmth of his skin seeped through the fabric, grounding both of you in this small, shared moment.

Satoru’s hand flexed, his fingers instinctively pressing into the soft give of your waist. His touch was cautious, like he was still testing the sensation, and you could feel him catch his breath. His eyes flickered down, watching his own hand as if seeing it in this position was almost surreal. Then his gaze lifted to yours, his expression a mix of awe and a little self-consciousness, like he was realizing just how new all of this felt to him.

For a moment, time seemed to still, the air thick with something unspoken. His fingers remained gently on your waist, his grip firm but careful. His eyes held yours, searching for something—maybe understanding, maybe comfort.

You felt the heat of his gaze as his eyes lingered on you, his expression searching, as if trying to find reassurance or perhaps permission. His attention felt heavy, intense, and you could feel your cheeks warming, a faint blush creeping over you. You forced yourself to brush it aside, focusing on him, on the quiet yet clear connection between you.

Drawing a breath, you leaned in, rising onto your toes until your face was just inches from his. Your eyes dropped to his lips, your gaze lingering there for just a second too long, and that seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. His eyes fluttered shut, and his fingers dug slightly into your waist, pulling you in closer with an unexpected urgency. Your breaths mingled in the narrow space between you before his lips met yours in a rush of movement.

The kiss was messy, uncoordinated, almost clumsy in its eagerness. His lips pressed hard against yours, his movements lacking the practiced finesse of experience but carrying a raw intensity that made up for it. He kissed you with an almost desperate enthusiasm, his lips parting messily against yours, the faint taste of his breath mingling with your own. There was a wetness to the kiss, his inexperience clear in the way he seemed to lose himself, following only instinct rather than skill. He kissed you with unabashed need, a little too much spit and an endearing awkwardness in the way his mouth moved against yours.

You could feel his inexperience, the way he struggled to find a rhythm, his lips and tongue a bit too eager, too messy. But there was a certain sweetness to it, a sincerity that made the kiss feel even more intimate. It was unrefined, almost childlike in its enthusiasm, yet it was deeply honest—a kiss from someone exploring a world he’d never known, trying to understand it one uncertain step at a time.

Slowly, you brought your hand up to his face, brushing your fingers along his jawline, gently guiding him to slow down. You felt his breathing hitch at the soft touch, and his lips stilled for a moment, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. His gaze held a mixture of surprise and something more vulnerable—a spark of uncertainty, as though he was asking if he was doing things right.

“You’re doing just fine,” you whispered, your words a gentle reassurance. You could see the tension ease from his expression, the smallest hint of relief softening his gaze. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and gave you a shy smile that felt so out of place on someone as commanding as him, yet so fitting in this moment.

With your guidance, he leaned in again, his movements now a bit more measured, a touch gentler. His lips met yours with newfound purpose, still a little messy, but now slower, as though savoring each second. This time, he lingered, allowing the kiss to unfold naturally, his lips brushing against yours with a sweet, unhurried warmth.

Your hands slid to rest on his shoulders, fingers tracing the lines of his frame, feeling the subtle tremor under his skin as he let himself fall into the moment. The kiss grew deeper, a quiet exploration, as though he were learning you, learning this intimacy he’d never experienced before. And in that moment, it felt like there was only the two of you—caught in this delicate exchange, each touch building a fragile new understanding.

After a long, breathless pause, he drew back, his expression softened yet still intense, eyes clouded with newfound desire. His lips, now slightly swollen from the kiss, parted as he looked at you, as if searching for something—permission, maybe, or reassurance. His hand remained at your waist, fingers tightening gently, grounding himself in the unfamiliar intimacy that had formed between you.

Without another word, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was harder, more confident than before, as though the hesitation had melted away. His hands slid down your waist, fingers tracing the shape of your body until they reached the back of your thighs. In one smooth movement, he lifted you, his strength evident as he held you firmly. A gasp escaped your lips, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms looping around his neck for support as he carried you with ease.

Your back met the cool, solid surface of the wall, and you felt a rush of heat at the sudden closeness, the way his body pressed against yours, anchoring you there. His hands, still beneath your thighs, slid upward slightly, fingers grazing the curve of your ass before giving it a small, tentative squeeze. The unexpected boldness of the touch sent a spark through you, and your breath hitched, a faint blush coloring your cheeks.

His lips found yours again, and he kissed you with a fervor that felt worlds away from the shyness he’d shown moments before. His mouth moved against yours with a raw intensity, devouring each kiss, leaving no space between you. You felt the heat radiating from him, the rhythm of his breaths growing heavier as he pressed himself closer, as though wanting to close any lingering distance between you.

The contrast was dizzying—just moments ago, he’d been so cautious, uncertain in every touch, every glance. And now here he was, holding you in his arms, his kisses almost desperate as if he’d found something he didn’t want to let go of. You clung to him, fingers tangling in his hair as you let yourself sink into the warmth of his embrace, the steady, grounding pressure of his hands keeping you anchored against him.

He kissed you with a fervor that left you breathless, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that seemed to grow with each passing second. His fingers tightened on your ass, his grip steady and possessive, pressing you more firmly against the wall as though he wanted to keep you there, close, unmovable. You could feel his heartbeat, fast and heavy, mirroring your own.

His mouth left yours only for a moment, his lips brushing along your jaw, trailing down to the curve of your neck. Each kiss was a mix of soft and hurried, as if he were savoring the taste of your skin but couldn’t quite hold back his growing desire. His breath was hot against your neck, and you felt a shiver run through you as his lips lingered there, taking his time to explore, to feel you.

The way he held you felt powerful yet tentative, as if he was discovering just what he could do, and it sent a thrill through you. You felt the tension in his hold, the slight tremble in his fingertips betraying a mix of nervous excitement and unrestrained want.

You whispered his name softly, and he stilled for a moment, lifting his head to look at you. His eyes, usually so confident and sharp, held a softness, a vulnerability that made your heart race. He seemed to study you, his gaze searching your face, as if he needed to see that you were still with him, still wanting this as much as he did.

“S’toru…” you murmured agaib, your voice barely a whisper, filled with all the unspoken reassurance and encouragement you could offer. He swallowed, his cheeks faintly flushed, and gave a small, hesitant smile, looking a little relieved, a little emboldened

With newfound determination, he pulled you closer, his lips capturing yours once more, this time slower, savoring the moment.

As Satoru’s kisses grew deeper and more assured, the intensity between you became undeniable, and you could feel his breathing growing heavier. His hands roamed along your thighs, fingers grazing over the fabric of your clothes, and each touch seemed to carry a little more heat, a little more urgency.

Then, suddenly, you felt it—a subtle but unmistakable pressure against your stomach. His hips had shifted closer in his fervor, and now you could feel him pressing against you, hard and undeniable. The realization made a shiver run through you, and you felt your own face flush, heart pounding at the sudden intimacy of it.

Satoru froze for a moment, as if only now aware of the way his body was reacting. His cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and he swallowed, his breath catching as he struggled to pull himself back, an awkward smile tugging at his lips.

“I… didn’t mean…” he stammered, clearly embarrassed, his gaze dropping as though he didn’t quite know how to handle his own reactions.

But before he could pull away, you brought a hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb gently along his skin, letting him know it was okay. “It’s alright,” you whispered, voice soft and reassuring. “Do what you please.“

He looked at you, relief mingling with something deeper, a flicker of excitement shining in his eyes. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours again, this time with a slower, more deliberate passion. As he deepened the kiss, his body pressed closer, and he stopped resisting the way his hips aligned with yours, letting himself feel the closeness without overthinking it.

Your hands slid over his shoulders, steadying yourself against him, feeling the strength in his frame as he held you, his body tense with barely restrained desire. The pressure against your stomach grew, a steady reminder of the effect you were having on him, and you could feel his hesitance melting away bit by bit. His kisses grew bolder, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, as though he didn’t want any distance left between you.

,S‘toru” you whispered against his lips, voice breathy and soft, and he drew in a shaky breath, his eyes heavy-lidded, as though he was barely keeping himself grounded. He was fighting to stay in control, to process the new sensations flooding through him, but he could hardly hold back.

“Feels s‘ good…” he murmured, his voice a low, shaky whisper. Slowly, his hips moved, pressing into you, creating a delicious friction as his hardness rubbed against you, even through the layers of clothing. The movement was tentative but grew more confident with each slow thrust, his breath hitching as he sank deeper into the feeling. His lips found the side of your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses there, letting his lips map the curve of your skin.

A quiet whimper escaped you, unintentional yet undeniable, and he froze, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes, still filled with that raw need, softened slightly, as if wanting to make sure he hadn’t gone too far. But when he heard the faint, breathy sound again as his lips brushed over the same spot, he seemed to realize just how much his touch affected you. A flicker of excitement flashed in his gaze, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to your neck again, this time more deliberately, letting his tongue graze the sensitive skin.

You whimpered again, the sound slipping from your lips before you could stop it, and you brought a hand to your mouth, instinctively trying to muffle the sound. But he reached up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pulling your hand away with a gentle yet firm hold. His gaze held an intensity that made your heart skip.

“Wanna hear ‘em… your moans,” he muttered, his voice low, the words dripping with newfound confidence. He leaned in, his lips trailing back to your neck, and this time, his tongue traced slow, heated lines against your skin, savoring the way you shivered beneath his touch.

Each kiss, each brush of his lips, became bolder, more purposeful, as though he was learning exactly how to make you feel every single touch. His hips continued to press against you in slow, unhurried movements, creating a rhythm that sent sparks through your entire body.

His fingers, which had gripped your Thighs with a firm intensity, began to trail upward, brushing against the fabric of your shirt. With his breath warm against your skin, he paused, looking up at you for a moment, his gaze filled with a mix of excitement and curiosity.

His hand moved to the top button of your shirt, fingers slightly trembling as he hesitated. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, searching for any hint of uncertainty. When you gave him a soft nod, a silent reassurance, his face softened, and with that, he began to slowly undo the buttons, one by one, his gaze never leaving yours as though anchoring himself in the trust you shared.

His breath caught as he reached the last button, letting your shirt slip from your shoulders to pool at your feet.

His gaze dropped, and his eyes widened, filled with awe as he took in the sight of you. His hands, initially tentative, began to trace gentle patterns along your shoulders and collarbone, his touch warm and reverent. He seemed captivated, almost in disbelief, as his fingertips trailed downward, lingering at the curve of your breasts.

Satoru swallowed hard, his cheeks flushed as he looked up at you, his gaze both shy and filled with wonder. “You’re… so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, as if he feared speaking too loudly might shatter the moment. With a hesitant hand, he reached out, his palm gently covering the soft curve of your breast, his touch both tender and careful, as though you were something precious.

Leaning in, his lips brushed softly against your skin just above your heart, leaving a trail of warm, reverent kisses as he explored with growing confidence. His hand, which had rested at the curve of your breast, wandered over the full softness, squeezing with a tentative pressure that sent warmth flooding through you. His thumb and forefinger found your nipple, giving a small, instinctive pinch.

The sharp pleasure made you gasp, a moan slipping from your lips, but you couldn’t help flinching at the unexpected intensity. “Not ser‘ hard… they’re sensitive,” you murmured, gently pulling his hand back. He froze, meeting your gaze with an apologetic expression, his face flushed even deeper.

“ sorry..” he whispered, genuine remorse in his voice, but the look in his eyes was also filled with curiosity and need. Without a second thought, he lowered his head, bringing himself level with your chest, and his lips brushed over your sensitive skin in a soft, almost reverent kiss.

Satoru’s lips wrapped around your nipple, his warm mouth enveloping the sensitive peak. He kissed it softly, savoring the taste of your skin, his tongue flicking out to tease you gently. The sensation sent electric currents racing through you, and you gasped, arching into him, encouraging him to continue.

As he continued to explore, he paused for a moment, pulling back slightly to look up at you with wide, earnest eyes. “I’m really sorry for being too rough,” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine remorse.

Then, as if his apology extended beyond you and into your body, he turned his attention back to your nipple, planting a soft kiss on it. “You just look s‘ perfect,” he added, the words barely escaping his lips.

He resumed his gentle kisses, trailing his mouth over the delicate skin around your breast, still mindful of your sensitivity. Each kiss was filled with a newfound tenderness, as if he was not only trying to please you but also to make amends. “Please forgive me,” he whispered against your skin, his breath warm, brushing over you like a gentle caress.

With each delicate kiss, he continued to express his reverence, kissing your nipple again softly as though it were a cherished treasure. “I promise to be better,” he vowed, his gaze intent, as if making a sacred promise to both you and your body. He lavished attention on your breast, his lips trailing kisses that were sweet and reverent, the gentle pressure of his mouth a stark contrast to the earlier clumsiness.

You couldn’t help but giggle softly at his earnestness, feeling a warmth spread through you, not just from his touch but from his sincerity. “You’re doing just fine, you‘re just learning afterall.” you reassured him, your voice breathy and filled with affection.

His eyes lit up at your encouragement, and he dove back in, his lips returning to your nipple, kissing it with a newfound tenderness, allowing the moment to envelop you both.

from your breast to your collarbone and back again, savoring each reaction he drew from you. The warmth of his mouth sent shivers down your spine, igniting a desire that only grew stronger.

But suddenly, he pulled back, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of excitement and determination. He gently wrapped his arms around you once ahain, lifting you with surprising strength.

He carried you effortlessly across the room, your heart racing as you held onto him, feeling the strength in his arms. The thrill of being so close to him, both physically and emotionally, sent a rush of warmth through you. As he approached the bed, he leaned down, carefully laying you onto the soft mattress, his gaze never leaving yours.

Once he set you down, he paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you stretched out before him. His heart raced in response to the intimacy of the moment, his breath hitching as he drank you in. “You’re really beautiful,” he whispered again, as if he couldn’t help but marvel at you.

Satoru leaned over you, propping himself up on his forearms, his gaze filled with a mix of admiration and longing. His fingers brushed through your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear, and he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours.

He pressed his lips against yours again, kissing you deeply as if trying to convey all the emotions swirling within him. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if memorizing every detail of you. You felt his weight resting against you, warm and safe, and it filled you with a sense of comfort and exhilaration.

As the kiss deepened, his hands wandered, fingers tracing along your sides and down your arms, drawing you into the warmth of the moment. He seemed to lose himself in you, his kisses growing more passionate, yet still tender, as if he were balancing the thrill of desire with a profound respect for the connection you were building together.

Satoru pulled back slightly, his breathing uneven, and looked down at you with an expression that held a perfect blend of desire and vulnerability. His eyes softened, and a flicker of concern appeared as he took in your face. “Are… are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with an almost shy uncertainty. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.

Your heart swelled at the thoughtfulness in his tone, and you nodded, feeling a warm sense of safety in his presence. “I’m fine,” you murmured softly, reaching up to brush a reassuring hand along his arm. “I should be asking you that.”

He nodded, his gaze briefly meeting yours before looking away, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “I’m… I’m okay,” he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper, almost as if he were still processing his own feelings. After a beat, he hesitated, then glanced back at you with a hint of nervous curiosity. “What should I do now?”

You sat up slightly, leaning forward so you could hold his gaze, though he quickly looked down, the blush deepening on his face. “Pull your clothes off,” you instructed softly, giving him a small, encouraging smile. “But leave your underwear on.”

Satoru’s eyes widened at your words, the blush spreading rapidly across his cheeks, almost as if he hadn’t quite expected the suggestion. “Yeah… okay,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of nerves and excitement as he reached for the hem of his shirt, hesitating only briefly before he began to lift it.

His hands trembled ever so slightly as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the toned lines of his chest and shoulders. His skin was warm, slightly flushed, and he kept his gaze averted, as if trying to gather the courage to keep going. He let the shirt fall to the floor, then took a deep breath before moving to undo his pants, casting a quick glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance.

When he saw your soft, encouraging expression, he continued, pushing his pants down and stepping out of them, leaving only his underwear as you’d requested. His movements were tentative, almost shy, but there was a certain determination in his actions that spoke of his trust in you.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you watched Satoru, your heart pounding in sync with his as he settled in beside you. His eyes lingered on you, filled with curiosity and an unmistakable nervousness, though he gave you a shy smile when you met his gaze.

With a reassuring nod, you began to reach down, fingers slipping to the waistband of your pants. His eyes followed your movements, captivated, as you slowly slid the fabric down your hips, exposing the soft skin of your legs. You kicked the pants aside, leaving you in only your underwear, mirroring him. His breath hitched as his gaze roamed over you, the admiration in his eyes unmistakable.

Now both in only your most vulnerable layers, you shifted back on the bed, motioning for him to come closer. Satoru followed, his movements tentative but filled with a certain eagerness, as though he was soaking in every detail of the moment.

He settled between your legs, his body hovering above yours as he propped himself up on his hands. His eyes were wide, sincere, holding a quiet wonder that made your heart flutter. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, drinking in the sight of you with a softness that was almost reverent.

You reached up, placing a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat racing beneath your fingertips. His breaths were shallow, matching yours in rhythm, and a slight shiver ran through him at your touch. “Just take it slow,” you whispered, your voice soft, reassuring, as you leaned in close enough that your breaths mingled, faces only inches apart. “We don’t have to rush.”

He nodded, swallowing as his gaze remained locked with yours. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with gratitude and awe. Tentatively, he brought his hand to your waist, his fingers brushing over your skin with a gentleness that spoke of both caution and growing confidence. His touch was almost feather-light, his fingertips tracing small circles as though memorizing each curve and dip. You felt his hand tighten slightly, pulling you closer, grounding himself in the warmth of your body against his.

You leaned up, closing the space between you to press a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger there as you savored the warmth of his skin. Satoru’s eyes fluttered closed, and he exhaled a shaky breath, leaning into your touch, almost as if he were melting under your care.

When you pulled back just slightly, he turned his head to face you, his expression filled with an intense, tender gaze. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and for a brief moment, he hesitated, his lips parted as if caught between nervousness and longing. Finally, he leaned in, brushing his lips over yours in a kiss that was both tender and exploratory, filled with a sweetness that made your heart race. He kissed you slowly, savoring every second, as though he wanted to remember this moment forever.

His hands began to wander from your waist to your hips, his fingers tracing along the curve where your underwear sat against your skin. He paused, his fingertips grazing along the line of fabric, hesitating, as if seeking permission. You could feel his hand trembling slightly, both from his excitement and his nerves, his fingers brushing over the skin just above the waistband before moving back down.

Satoru’s gaze was locked on yours, his eyes a mixture of wonder and nervousness as his hands continued their tentative exploration along the edge of your underwear. He seemed to be gathering courage, his fingers tracing gentle, almost reverent patterns across your skin. Your own hand covered his, a soft reminder, and you murmured, “You can take them off, y’know…”

He paused, visibly swallowing, his blush deepening. “Yes… yes, I know,” he replied, voice barely a whisper as he gathered the courage to slide the fabric down your hips. He moved slowly, carefully, as if savoring every second. When your underwear finally slipped from your legs, he let it fall from the bed, his gaze turning back to you with a new, unguarded vulnerability.

When he looked down, his gaze dipped between your legs as you spread them slightly, giving him space to take in the sight of you. He was visibly struck by the intimacy of the moment, a hint of awe flickering in his eyes, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, making you equally self-conscious and drawn to his quiet, genuine curiosity.

This wasn’t something you’d ever imagined doing, especially not as a tutor. The queen’s request had surprised you, and even as you’d agreed to guide him, you’d never anticipated how intense and meaningful this moment would feel. But with Satoru, there was a warmth and care that put you at ease—a softness in him that made you want to help him learn, to give him this experience.

Satoru’s breath was uneven as he drew his hands up your thighs, the warmth of his touch making your skin tingle. His thumbs moved slowly, pulling your legs apart just a little more, his touch almost reverent as he brushed his thumb against the delicate skin of your inner thigh. The sensation made you shiver, a small gasp escaping you.

His gaze never left yours as he brought his hands to your center, his fingers trembling slightly as he parted your folds with his thumbs, exposing your most sensitive area to the cool air. You let out a quiet gasp at the sensation, your breath catching as he focused on the glistening sight before him, his eyes filled with awe. He seemed mesmerized, watching the way your body reacted, the soft, pulsing invitation of your skin against his touch.

For a moment, he simply watched,

Satoru’s fingers trembled slightly as he held you open, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and uncertainty. His gaze flickered to yours, a question forming on his lips. “I… I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do next,” he admitted softly, his cheeks flushed, looking for guidance as he tried to understand how to please you.

You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his, your touch steadying him. “It’s okay,” you murmured, giving him a soft smile. “I can show you.”

He swallowed, nodding as he leaned in closer, visibly eager to learn. “Where should I start?” he asked, his voice low and sincere.

You held his gaze, feeling a sense of warmth at his openness. “See here?” you murmured, gently guiding his thumb to a small, sensitive spot at the apex of your folds. “This is the clit—it’s the most sensitive part, and it responds a lot to touch. You’ll want to start by focusing here.”

Satoru’s eyes lit with newfound understanding, his gaze turning to admiration as he looked down, processing your words carefully. His thumb brushed experimentally over the wet spot, his movements slow and cautious. You let out a soft, encouraging sigh, and he glanced up, his expression almost childlike in its intensity, clearly focused on learning how to make you feel good.

“So, you have to… prepare someone, right?” he asked, as if confirming his understanding. “Before anything else?”

You nodded, your voice soft. “Yes. You prepare a woman for… more,” you said, feeling a blush heat your cheeks. “Touching, kissing, and things like this—all of that helps get her ready, so it’s more comfortable. You have options, too. You could use your fingers, your mouth, or both… whatever feels natural for you.”

He seemed to absorb every word, nodding slowly, his brows furrowing with concentration. “I think I understand,” he murmured, his gaze flicking between your eyes and the sensitive spot he’d just discovered.

Satoru leaned in, his thumb brushing over your clit again, this time with more confidence, his movements gentle yet focused. You let out a soft sound, and he paused, eyes widening in wonder. He glanced up at you, a small, satisfied smile forming on his lips as he realized he’d done something right.

He leaned in, closer than before, pressing a slow, reverent kiss to your inner thigh, letting his lips linger, and you could feel the warmth of his breath as he explored with a gentle touch. You could tell he was savoring every new sensation, every slight shift and soft sigh. With each kiss, he grew bolder, moving closer to your core, his hands still steady on your thighs as he continued his careful approach.

Then, his lips brushed over your folds, his breath hitching as he pressed a lingering, almost worshipful kiss there. “So soft,” he murmured, sounding as if he were speaking more to himself than to you, awe evident in his voice. His mouth moved lower, placing another slow kiss before he began to taste you, his tongue moving hesitantly at first, as if familiarizing himself with each inch.

The first gentle stroke of his tongue made you gasp softly, and Satoru’s eyes flicked up, eager to see your reaction. Seeing the pleasure in your expression, he smiled, a slight, bashful grin, and leaned in further, letting his tongue explore with more confidence. The way he worked his mouth over you, savoring every taste, every sound you made, spoke to the intense curiosity and focus he was channeling into each motion.

“Fuck—” he whispered, his voice thick and slightly shaky, pulling back for a moment to catch his breath. His face was flushed, his pupils dilated as he looked at you with something close to worship. “Pussy’s s‘ sweet— tastes ser’ good,” he murmured, almost to himself, before diving back in with a new kind of hunger.

His tongue found your clit this time, pressing gently before giving it a soft, experimental bite that sent a shock of pleasure through you, making you arch into him. He continued, lapping at you with slow, broad strokes, as if he couldn’t get enough. His hands slid up, gripping your hips and pulling you even closer as he kissed and licked every inch, fully lost in the experience.

He seemed completely intoxicated by your taste, by the way your body responded to him. Each movement of his mouth became more confident, more eager, as he continued his relentless exploration, his tongue swirling around your clit before lapping at your entrance again, catching every bit of wetness as if it were precious. Satoru was utterly lost in you, pressing closer and moaning softly into your skin, entirely absorbed in the pleasure he was bringing you.

His hand slipped back to your thigh, gently squeezing as his mouth worked in perfect rhythm

Satoru’s grip on your thighs tightened as he became even more engrossed, his mouth moving over you with a hungry, eager rhythm. His eyes flickered up every so often, watching your reactions with an almost boyish awe as he learned exactly what made you gasp and arch into him. Each sound you made seemed to spur him on, fueling his growing confidence as his tongue moved with more purpose, more intent.

He let his tongue glide up from your entrance to your clit in slow, drawn-out strokes, savoring every taste, as though he couldn’t get enough. “Ser‘ good,” he murmured between breaths, his voice thick and heavy, almost reverent. “Can’t believe— fuck- how perfect ya taste.” His words were laced with genuine awe, and each syllable seemed to sink into you, heightening the warmth building deep in your core.

His lips wrapped around your clit then, and he sucked gently, sending waves of pleasure radiating through you. You gasped, fingers tangling in his soft hair, tugging him closer as your hips moved instinctively toward him, urging him deeper. Satoru moaned softly at the feeling of your hands in his hair, the vibrations of his voice against you only adding to the sensation.

“Just like that,” you whispered, your voice shaky as he continued, his enthusiasm and care blending into a perfect, overwhelming rhythm. He responded by doubling down, his lips pressing more firmly, his tongue flicking and circling, as if every movement were a way to learn how to make you feel even better.

As he continued, Satoru looked up at you again, his gaze dark with desire yet softened with admiration. “You taste like… everything I’ve ever wanted,” he mumbled against you, his voice muffled, but full of devotion. He leaned in once more, mouth covering you completely, tongue moving in long, slow strokes, savoring every drop and every reaction.

He became almost methodical, his mouth working in steady, purposeful motions, alternating between licking and gentle sucking, pulling quiet moans from your lips with every movement. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you steady as he continued his eager exploration, his mouth mapping every inch of you, each touch bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Finally, as his pace quickened and his movements became less restrained, you felt the growing heat build to a near breaking point. Your hips bucked against him, and he only gripped you tighter, pressing his mouth more firmly against you, tongue swirling and lips pressing as he pushed you right to the brink, lost in the need to give you everything he could.

Satoru’s eyes never left yours as he continued, his focus unwavering. Every gasp, every arch of your back seemed to spur him on, and as he watched you getting closer, a new determination filled his gaze. His hands slid up your inner thighs, his fingers brushing over your skin with a light touch before hesitating at your entrance. He glanced up, silently asking for permission, and at your encouraging nod, he took a deep breath, pressing a finger against your slick entrance.

Slowly, carefully, he pushed inside, his movements tentative as he watched your expression, making sure you were comfortable. His finger slid deeper, and he marveled at how warm and soft you felt, his gaze full of awe as he worked his finger gently, moving in time with the soft caresses of his mouth.

“Is… this okay?” he whispered, voice low and unsure, yet filled with genuine care. The gentle curve of his finger inside you was cautious, and when you let out a quiet moan in response, he seemed relieved, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Yes, s‘toru,” you murmured, voice thick with desire, encouraging him to continue.

Emboldened, he began moving his finger slowly, curling it inside you as he searched for the spots that made you shiver. His mouth returned to your clit, tongue flicking in gentle, deliberate strokes, the combination of his movements creating a steady, delicious rhythm. Each motion was measured, his focus absolute as he seemed to get lost in the feel of you around him, the way your body responded to every touch.

As he gained confidence, he added another finger, stretching you just slightly, his gaze still attentive, looking for any hint of discomfort. But when he saw only pleasure in your expression, his movements grew a little bolder. His fingers curved and pressed deeper, brushing that sensitive spot within you, sending a wave of pleasure through your body that had you clinging to his shoulders.

“God, pussy‘s s‘… perfect,” he breathed against you, his tone filled with reverence, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real. His fingers pumped steadily, his mouth following their rhythm, drawing out soft moans that seemed to intoxicate him further.

Each gentle thrust of his fingers, each flick of his tongue was filled with growing intensity, a desire that seemed to drive him to bring you closer and closer to release. His face, now completely flushed, showed a newfound hunger as he became entirely engrossed in every moan

Your body tensed as Satoru’s fingers curled inside you, pressing perfectly against that sensitive spot, his mouth still worshipping your clit with a relentless rhythm. The pleasure built rapidly, each movement of his fingers and every flick of his tongue intensifying the sensation until it became overwhelming.

Your breath hitched, and you felt yourself teetering right on the edge. “Satoru… I’m close…” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. He looked up at you, his eyes darkening with both determination and awe, as if he couldn’t believe he was the one bringing you to this point. Encouraged, he kept going, maintaining that steady pace, his fingers pumping and curling with just the right pressure, his mouth warm and relentless against your clit.

Your body arched, and the pleasure surged through you in a powerful wave. A gasp escaped your lips, turning into a cry of pure ecstasy as you reached your climax, your body trembling under his touch. Satoru didn’t stop, his fingers and mouth working you through every second, letting you ride out the pleasure fully, his gaze fixed on you, captivated by every reaction.

He slowed only as he felt your body begin to relax, his fingers gradually easing their rhythm until they finally stilled. His lips pressed one last, tender kiss against your clit before he withdrew his hand. You watched, breathless, as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean, savoring every taste as if he couldn’t get enough.

“Pussy’s so sweet,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, a mix of awe and raw need thickening his tone. His pupils were blown wide, his face covered in the remnants of your release, and he made no effort to hide his pleasure, licking his lips, his tongue tracing over the faint glisten left on his chin. “Want more…” he breathed, voice low and desperate, as if even this closeness wasn’t enough to satisfy the pull he felt toward you.

With a shuddering breath, he shifted, his hands moving to his briefs, and without hesitation, he slid them off, tossing them somewhere off the bed. He wrapped a hand around himself, giving a few slow, steady strokes, his own arousal now fully bared before you.

You couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped your lips as you took him in. He was big—thicker and longer than you’d expected, his arousal flushed with a deep, heated pink at the tip, beads of precum already forming and trailing down along the pale, veined length. The sight alone made you clench in anticipation, a mix of nerves and longing swirling within you.

Satoru looked down at you, his cheeks and chest flushed, the intensity in his eyes making him look almost dazed, drunk on the need coursing through him. “Can’t… can’t wait any longer—” he murmured, a slight tremor in his voice. He leaned closer, his tip brushing against your clit in a teasing tap, smearing his precum around your entrance.

“Please,” he whispered, almost as if pleading. “Please… let me… I need to feel you. Need to be inside…”

You felt his desperation in every word, his restraint fraying with every second that passed. His gaze held yours, dark and pleading, and you gave him a soft nod, granting him the permission he so earnestly sought.

“Please…” he whispered again, positioning himself carefully, his gaze never leaving yours, even as he slowly began to press forward, inch by aching inch.

A shiver ran through Satoru as he began to sink into you, every inch he pressed forward met with a quiet gasp or soft sigh that only seemed to make him more desperate. He moved slowly, his gaze fixed on your face as if wanting to memorize every reaction. The stretch was intense, his thickness filling you in a way that had you curling your fingers into the sheets, and he took his time, his movements careful and deliberate as he entered you.

“God—” he whispered, a tremor in his voice as he tried to keep his control, his brows knitting together in concentration. His hands found your hips, gripping firmly but gently, anchoring himself as he slid further. He exhaled shakily, and his breathing turned ragged, his lips parting as he lost himself in the feeling. “Feels so good…*hic* better than I imagined—” he murmured, almost to himself, as if he couldn’t believe he was actually inside you.

As soon as Satoru pressed fully inside you, he froze, his whole body tensing as if he’d been struck by lightning. The heat, the way your walls clung to him, warm and tight, had his eyes fluttering shut, his head falling back in pure, unfiltered bliss. A deep groan escaped his lips, raw and needy, and he gripped your hips so tightly you could feel the tremor in his fingers.

“Fuck—” he choked out, his voice thick, barely coherent, as he tried to process the overwhelming sensation. His head dropped forward, gaze dazed, his pupils blown wide as he looked at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was feeling. “So… s’ fucking tight,” he muttered, almost in disbelief, his words catching as his hips gave an involuntary thrust. “God—you’re… clenching around me so perfectly—”

You felt his fingers digging into your hips as he rocked into you again, the motion instinctive, almost primal. His restraint shattered in an instant, and he began moving with a newfound hunger, his hips snapping against yours with an intensity that had his head spinning. Each thrust made his eyes flutter, his lips parting as he gasped for breath, his mind barely able to focus on anything but the sensation of you wrapped around him

He buried himself deeper, his pace turning relentless, desperate. His lips found your neck, teeth grazing over your skin as he panted, “Feel so fucking good, can’t—can’t stop…fuck!” He sounded wrecked, completely undone, his tone almost pleading as he kept moving, his rhythm wild and unrestrained.

Satoru’s eyes rolled back as he lost himself in the feeling, the pleasure flooding through him too intense to control. “Pussy’s so *hic* warm,” he slurred, his words muffled as his lips brushed over your skin, his hips pressing into you harder, needier, every sound you made only pushing him further. Each thrust felt deeper than the last, his breaths ragged, desperate as he surrendered completely, letting the sensation consume him.

Satoru’s movements became a frenzy, his hips snapping against yours with a desperation that was almost uncontrollable, his breathing erratic and voice reduced to hoarse groans. Every inch of you enveloped him in a warmth so tight that his composure shattered with each thrust, his hands gripping you as if afraid to let go.

“Fuck—can’t… can’t get enough,” he mumbled, his voice rough, eyes half-lidded as he stared down at you with a dazed, almost feral hunger. His mouth found yours, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss, messy and demanding, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he kissed you deeply. He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming in heavy pants as he looked at you, captivated, overwhelmed.

Your moans and gasps only fueled him, every sound you made seeming to push him further over the edge. His hands roamed your body, fingers digging into your skin as he tried to pull you even closer, his thrusts rough but filled with raw need. “You feel… so fucking perfect,” he murmured, barely able to get the words out as his rhythm grew erratic, his hips moving instinctively as he chased the building pleasure that was consuming him.

Lost in the sensation, his pace faltered, his movements growing sloppier, more desperate. He pulled you tighter against him, his body shuddering with every thrust, his head falling to your shoulder as he let out a deep, broken groan, his voice strained and breathless.

“God… can’t… gonna come…soon” he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of awe and helplessness as he felt himself teetering on the edge, holding on only by a thread as he lost himself completely in the warmth of you.

With each thrust, Satoru’s body trembled, his breath hitching as he felt himself nearing that precipice. The warmth enveloping him tightened further, the way your walls pulsed around him driving him wild. His movements grew more frantic, instinct taking over as he chased the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him.

“Please—please..” he gasped, desperation lacing his words as he quickened his pace, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the room. He was lost, intoxicated by the feeling of being inside you, and it was as if everything else faded away. The world outside ceased to exist; it was just the two of you, tangled together in a whirlwind of passion.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, the heat pooling in your core intensifying with every movement. “S’toru… yes—yesss just like that,” you encouraged, your voice breathy as you matched his rhythm, pushing him closer to the edge. Your words seemed to ignite something primal within him, and he let out a deep, guttural growl, thrusting into you with abandon.

“Fuck—so good… you’re so good,” he gasped, his eyes rolling back again as he felt the pleasure building rapidly, tension coiling tightly in his belly. Every sound you made, every gasp and moan, drove him closer to madness. He could feel the pressure mounting, an almost unbearable intensity that threatened to consume him completely.

“I can’t hold back much longer,” he warned, his voice low and strained, nearly a whine as he fought against the overwhelming need to release. “I want to feel you—want you to feel me…”

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you completely, his body shaking as he let go, pleasure crashing over him like a tidal wave. “Oh—fuck!” he cried out, his voice echoing with a mix of ecstasy and disbelief as he came, filling you with warmth. His body quaked with the intensity of his release, and in that moment, everything faded into pure bliss, leaving only the two of you tangled together, breathing heavily in the aftermath

As the waves of pleasure began to fade, Satoru’s breath came in uneven gasps, his eyes still glazed with the aftereffects of the ecstasy he’d just experienced. He looked down at you, the warmth of your bodies still mingling, and a sudden thought struck him—a spark of wild desire that seemed to take over his senses.

“Marry me,” he blurted out, the words tumbling out with an urgency that surprised even him.

Your eyes widened, momentarily caught off guard. “Wha—what?” you stammered, disbelief flickering across your face.

“I know it’s crazy since we just met, but… you’re just—so amazing, and I don’t wanna let you go! That was—” he hesitated, a dreamy look crossing his face as he recalled the sensations. “Your pussy’s s‘ good. I can’t just… I can’t just walk away from this. I don‘t want anyone else now..”

You let out a soft laugh, a mixture of incredulity and amusement bubbling up inside you at his unfiltered honesty. What is happening? you thought, still trying to process the whirlwind of events that had brought you here. “You don’t even know my name!” you exclaimed, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I don’t need to know,” he replied, leaning closer, his eyes half-lidded with that intoxicating mix of lust and affection. “I just know you’re incredible. It’s like—like fate or something. I want you to be mine, like— forever.”

His words, though impulsive, were laced with sincerity, and you could see the way his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, even as excitement radiated from him. This is insane, you thought, but there’s something so genuine about him. “You’re serious?” you asked, searching his eyes for any trace of jest, but the sincerity in his gaze was unmistakable.

“Dead serious,” he confirmed, his expression earnest but still slightly dazed, the effects of what had just transpired clearly clouding his thoughts. “I don’t want to waste any time… so, uh, what do you say?” His voice wavered slightly, betraying his nervousness despite the confident facade he tried to maintain.

Could this really be happening? you thought, your heart racing at the idea of such an impulsive commitment. You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest at his unexpected proposal. “Alright, let’s see where this goes, Prince,” you replied teasingly, excitement bubbling beneath the surface. “But you better be ready for more than just this.”

“Y-yeah! Totally!” he stuttered, his enthusiasm shining through the haze of lust. “I’m all in. Just… just tell me your name, and I promise to be the best husband ever.”

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pbaz7 · 4 days ago

Text

SOFT SPOT: CHAPTER 12

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content(dom/sub P & dom/sub A)

word count: 11.8k

a/n: life got real hectic and this took wayyy longer than expected so i apologize for that. to makeup for how long it took me to post this i took my anons of punishment and wrote the end of this chapter for them. like always let me know what you think and if you notice any typos!

—————————————————————————

It had happened so casually it almost didn’t feel real.

Azzi was stretched out on Paige’s couch with her head in Paige’s lap and her phone resting on her stomach, scrolling through her information for Unrivaled when she mumbled, “You should just come with me.”

There was no drawn out invitation or any nervousness about asking, Azzi just asked casually while Paige was half distracted.

Paige had barely glanced up from her phone as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through Azzi's braids, and had just said, “Okay.” Like it didn’t feel like something important shifting in her chest at the implications of them spending a few months living together.

…

About a week later the Miami light was peaking through the blinds of their room painting streaks of gold across the room. Azzi twisted under the sheets, confusion immediately taking over when she reached out sleepily using one arm and her leg to sweep across the bed to find a cool space where a furnace should’ve been.

Azzi frowned and felt around again. Her hand dragged across the rumpled sheets, but there was definitely nothing but linen and air so she stopped moving to listen around the apartment.

That’s when she heard Paige’s breath, it was quiet but a little heavy as she counted, the faint creak of the floor every time she went up a number.

Azzi didn’t open her eyes before she whispered, loud enough to carry across the bedroom, “Why am I waking up by myself, baby?”

The sound of Paige’s quiet counting paused, then she laughed quietly. A few seconds later, Paige crawled back in the bed, her body still warm and the muscles in her arms flexing as she moved. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to Azzi’s shoulder as she mumbled, “M’sorry, baby,” before wrapping an arm around Azzi and pulling her closer to her.

Azzi let herself melt into Paige’s arms, burying her face in her neck. “Why you up so early?”

Paige shrugged her fingers trailing up and down Azzi’s spine. “I don’t know. I’ve had too much energy lately.” She paused, before adding. “Been thinking maybe I should start training again. Just to get it out.”

Azzi cracked one of her eyes open, then closed it again as she nuzzled in closer. “Or you could just let me wear you out later.”

Paige smirked, pressing her lips to Azzi’s head. “Mmm, that works too.”

Azzi’s voice was muffled against Paige’s neck when she replied, “Gimme a few minutes then we can talk about it.”

Paige laughed using her fingers to play with one of the loose braids that slipped from under Azzi’s bonnet, twirling it gently between her fingers. “Talk about you wearing me out?”

Azzi pinched her side, making Paige playfully flinch as she laughed. “Talk about you starting to train again.”

Paige hummed. “You gotta be more specific, baby. One of those topics sounds way more fun.”

Azzi sighed and shook her head, but the smile on her lips gave her away. She chose not to respond as she pressed herself tighter into Paige’s body, tangling their legs underneath the sheets and giving herself five more minutes of her favorite part of the day.

About thirty minutes later, Azzi was on her stomach between Paige’s legs with her chin resting on one hand and her phone propped up on Paige’s stomach. Paige was leaning against the headboard with pillows behind her back as she quietly scrolled through gym options.

Azzi’s search strategy was much less refined than Paige’s; she’d just typed “best gym near me" and was scrolling for ones with nice ratings with zero concern for specific filters or distance.

Paige glanced down and saw Azzi taking a digital tour of a gym and laughed a little.

Azzi hummed as she kept moving through the gym. “What we laughing at?”

“Nothing you’re just cute,” Paige mumbled with a grin as she reached down to gently tug on one of Azzi’s braids.

After a few more minutes Azzi says, “Ooo what about American Top Team? This says they’re one of the best gyms in the world.”

Paige blinked as she processed the words before lowering her phone as she looked at Azzi. “Excuse me?”

Azzi turned her head up to meet her gaze. “It says it right here.” She held her phone up to show Paige. “Top tier facility, top tier fighters—” she paused when she saw Paige’s face. “What?”

Paige raised her eyebrow, barely fighting a smile at how cute Azzi looked. “I’m Cali-based, baby.”

“Okayyy…and?”

Paige let out a soft laugh, reaching down to smooth the crease forming between Azzi’s eyebrows with her thumb. “There’s like…camps in MMA. Like teams, kind of. Certain fighters represent the camps they’re based out of.”

Azzi’s eyebrows arched in interest after hearing about this for the first time. “What’s yours?”

Paige leaned back against the headboard. “I mean you know I train privately with my coach at home gym. That’s just always been what works for me, but my camp is technically American Kickboxing Academy, that’s where I met him. It’s in San Jose so I only go a few times a year.”

Azzi turned her head again to squint up at Paige with her cheek pressed against her stomach. “Why am I just now hearing about this?”

Paige laughed under her breath. “Cause I don’t take the whole camp thing that serious but some fighters do so I can’t really go to American Top Team.”

“So is there like a contract or something that goes along with it?”

Paige nodded, brushing her fingers through Azzi’s braids, letting one of the goddess curls to wrap around her knuckle. “Yeah, but even if I didn’t officially have one, I still wouldn’t go to ATT.”

“Why not?”

Paige shrugged casually. “I’ve probably beat like four? Maybe five of their top fighters. Wouldn’t exactly be a warm welcome if I walked in there.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, burying her face into Paige’s stomach. “Damn I didn’t know it was like that.”

“It’s basically like you trying to go work out at the Valkyries’ practice facility. Might not make it out without somebody trying to throw a ball at your head.”

Azzi laughed even though it was slightly muffled against Paige’s stomach. “Alright, so not American Top Team.”

Paige reached down to brush her fingers across Azzi’s cheek. “Absolutely not.”

They both went back to silently scrolling for a few minutes as the faint sounds of Miami waking up outside the window took over the space. Azzi repositioned herself, tucking her chin more comfortably into the space just above Paige’s waistband before she peeked up at her, “So does this mean if somebody challenges you, you’ll take the fight?”

Paige exhaled, laying her phone flat on her chest so she could look at Azzi. “I don’t know yet, honestly.” She paused, before adding “I know I miss fighting. Not necessarily competing but like…just hitting a bag. Being in the gym. Feeling like me. So I’m just tryna start there.”

Azzi nodded, keeping her eyes on Paige. “Mmm. Okay.”

Paige studied her. “Why? You got thoughts?”

Azzi smiled at her gently. “No. I just like to know what’s going on in your head.” She tilted herself up to kiss Paige’s ribs before laying back down.

Paige’s jaw flexed, as her eyes softened at the affection. “You’re too good for me.”

Azzi didn’t entertain the comment saying, “No, I’m not,” before she tucked her face against Paige’s hip. “I’m exactly right for you.”

Paige chose to reach down and let her hand rest in Azzi’s hair instead of responding. Softly stroking the back of her head, as her fingers moved through the braids without thinking.

Azzi went back to scrolling through potential gym options, her eyes flicking across the screen with one hand propped underneath her chin. Paige wasn’t reading a single word on her own phone anymore because she was still watching Azzi.

She wasn’t watching her in the way people watched something they thought was beautiful. It was in the way you look at something you never thought you’d achieve or thought you deserved. The way someone looks at the sky just before the sun breaks open the horizon, like they’re stunned it’s real even though it happens everyday of their life. Paige’s blue eyes had gone softly quiet, like a still crystal lake early in the morning before the world was awake. Every so often her gaze would drift from the curve of Azzi’s shoulder to the way her lips pursed when she read something, to the goddess curl falling loose near her temple, and back again.

There was a kind of admiration in Paige’s expression that didn’t need words. She didn’t even realize she was doing it. She was just...looking at Azzi. Like she was her calm. Her beginning and her end. Like every version of love Paige had ever gotten to know had led her to this moment, with this girl laying on her stomach, in a basketball complex in Miami.

Almost sensing Paige looking at her, Azzi's thumb stopped moving across her screen and she slowly tilted her head and looked up causing their eyes to meet.

Paige didn’t blink and Azzi held the gaze for a few seconds. Her lashes fluttered slightly as a soft and and wondering expression filtered across her face as she whispered, “What?”

Paige brushed the goddess' curl from Azzi’s face, letting her fingers linger for a second longer than they needed to near her temple. “I just—” she started, then paused, blinking as her eyes glossed over suddenly.

Azzi’s eyebrows knit together reflecting her concern almost immediately, the change in Paige’s tone tugging at her chest. She reached up to cup Paige’s jaw. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

Paige swallowed, her throat working around something waiting to come out before she whispered, “Can I tell you something?”

Azzi nodded. “Of course.”

Paige pulled at Azzi’s hands silently telling her to come here. Azzi moved up easily, shifting to straddle Paige’s waist with her knees framing her sides on the bed. She laced their fingers together, stroking her thumbs over Paige’s knuckles as her eyes searched her face for a hint of what was going on.

Paige’s breath hitched like she was bracing herself. She looked up at Azzi like the moment might break if she even took too harsh of a breath. “I just—” she paused again. “I’ve never done this whole thing before.”

Her voice trembled but it didn’t crack, as her thumb traced circles into Azzi’s palm. “So I don’t know if I’m supposed to do a whole grand gesture or just…tell you. I don’t know if I’m supposed to just let it slip out when I”m walking out the door and not make it a big thing or just—I don’t know how to make it perfect for you.”

She blinked up at Azzi, something naked in her expression before she just decided to let it out. “But I’m so in love with you, baby.”

The words landed between them as Paige finally let out the truth she’d been carrying for a while. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was confident, making sure Azzi knew she was hesitant about it. “I’m so in love with you it makes my chest tight sometimes. And I didn’t wanna wait to say it just because I didn’t have the ‘perfect’ moment anymore.”

Paige let out a breathy laugh at herself, her eyes still glassy as she added, “At first I was scared as hell to tell you because my feelings just felt too big, too soon. Like I didn’t even know how to hold them, let alone say them out loud. I just didn’t wanna scare you away.”

Azzi let out a quiet laugh, her smile huge, showing her deep dimple as she leaned in a little closer letting her forehead almost touch Paige’s. “You didn’t wanna scare me away?” she teased. “The girl who was practically harassing you before you finally gave me a date?”

Paige laughed at this, her cheeks flushing pink. “That’s fair,” she admitted with a crooked grin. “You were pretty persistent.”

Azzi tilted her head, brushing her nose against Paige’s. “I’m in love with you too, baby. I have been for a while now.”

It was like Paige let out a long exhale of relief from hearing these words back.

Azzi smiled, making sure to keep her gaze steady. “I didn’t say anything before because I didn’t want to rush you. I didn’t know what you needed, but I knew I wanted you to feel safe getting there with me before I said anything.”

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to Paige’s cheek, then her jaw, then finally her lips. “I’ve loved you quietly while you figured it out,” Azzi whispered, causing her lips to brush against Paige’s as she spoke. “But I promise I’ve loved you all the same.”

Paige mumbled against Azzi’s lips, “I swear I don’t deserve somebody like you.”

Azzi didn’t hesitate to whisper back just as softly, “I promise you deserve the world.” She kissed her again gently and both of them smiled into it knowing they were finally letting themselves exist in the truth they’d been holding for too long.

“I mean it,” Paige said between pecs, brushing her nose against Azzi’s. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Azzi grinned, kissing her again. “Keep acting like it then and we’re good.”

Paige laughed quietly, nipping at her bottom lip. “Yes, ma’am.”

Azzi giggled, sliding her hands slowly up Paige’s arms, pausing to admire the toned muscles under her palms. “You’re so sexy.”

Paige smirked, settling her hands on Azzi’s hips. “Yeah?” she said, her cockiness evident in her tone.

Azzi nodded, about to lean down and say more when her alarm sounded through the room. She groaned, dramatically flopping forward onto Paige’s chest for a second before dragging herself toward her phone.

Paige just laughed and smacked Azzi’s ass as she moved to turn off the alarm. “Have a good practice.”

Azzi glared at her over her shoulder, her lips twitching with the effort it took to not smile.

Paige grinned, tucking her arms behind her head. “You love me. You can’t be glaring at me now, that’s not how it works.”

Azzi rolled her eyes as she got up, muttering something under her breath. She leaned back over the bed, braced her hands on both sides of Paige’s shoulders, and whispered, “You have a big head and you’re annoying,” before kissing her forehead aggressively on purpose before walking toward the bathroom.

Paige watched her go with a huge grin.

…

While Azzi was at practice, Paige had an online session with her psychiatrist.

She was making sure it became a steady part of her routine, a choice she’d made after a long conversation with Azzi one night in bed when they peeled back layers Paige hadn’t even realized she’d built. They decided against medication or any type of immersive therapy, choosing to just focus on consistent psychotherapy. It was a form of healing that gave Paige room to show up just as she was and give her an open space to feel.

Paige didn’t go into much detail about her relationship during sessions. That part of her life, the softness, intimacy, and love, was sacred to Paige and she only wanted Azzi to see those parts of her.

Today’s session was mostly about the recent pull she’d been feeling toward starting to train again. She brought it up casually and her psychiatrist reminded her to stay aware of her intentions. Telling her to not fall back into using the pain and routine as a distraction from what she was feeling. Paige had nodded along, sharing her thought process about it all before they both ultimately decided she was in a good enough place to at least get back in the gym.

By the time the session ended Paige felt lighter. She wasn’t fully healed but she was more aware of herself and that counted for a lot.

When she closed her laptop and leaned into the couch cushions she let herself sit there in reflection for a few minutes before picking up her phone and seeing a text from Azzi.

Azzi [3:58PM]:

Come meet me at the gym when you’re done

Paige smiled and got up to grab her keys.

…

Azzi was standing on the court, laughing as she caught up with Aaliyah, Nika, and Leah. Even after not seeing each other for some time they were back in their usual rhythm within a few minutes. Messing with one another and reminiscing a little bit about UConn. Currently they were teasing Azzi about her new ‘grown woman energy.’

“Okay but your skin looks so good,” Aaliyah said, narrowing her eyes like she was suspicious. “Is LA making you glow or is it something else?”

“Something else or someone else?” Nika asked.

Azzi opened her mouth to answer, but before she could, Leah almost broke her neck as she leaned around Aaliyah. “Hold on, who is thattt?” she asked, dragging the last word out flirtatiously.

All three of her friends turned their heads at once.

Across the gym, Paige was standing next to Rickea. Her blonde hair was a little messy from the Miami humidity and was in its natural waves in a ponytail. She had on her glasses instead of her usual contacts and she was looking at something on Rickea’s phone with her.

Azzi’s forehead creased as soon as her eyes landed on the two of them. “Rickea?” she asked, because surely she wasn’t talking about Paige.

Leah shook her head quickly, waving it off. “No girl, of course I know Rickea. I’m talking about blondie next to her.”

“That’s Paige…my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend??” Nika and Aaliyah whipped their heads toward her at the exact same time.

“Yes. Girlfriend,” Azzi confirmed as her eyes briefly drifted to Leah a little pointedly. It wasn’t enough to start anything, but enough to say “I know you heard me.’ But Leah hadn’t taken her eyes off Paige.

Azzi took a quiet deep breath and stopped herself from saying anything else for the sake of friendship.

She and Leah had never been particularly close. Leah had transferred to UConn during Azzi’s last two years, and while they got along just fine in practice and in the locker room, there was always a quiet distance between them. It wasn’t anything hostile, just two people who didn’t click. They respected each other’s game, knew how to play side by side, but off the court, it was completely different. Azzi chalked it up to different personalities and left it at that.

So watching Leah eye Paige like that, even after Azzi had said girlfriend? It pissed Azzi off almost immediately. Azzi tilted her head and called out, “Paige.”

Paige looked up from Rickea’s phone already fighting a smile. Like just hearing Azzi say her name was enough to brighten her whole face.

Azzi tilted her head telling Paige to come where she was.

Paige handed Rickea her phone back and started walking across the gym.

When she got in front of Azzi Paige licked her lips, dragging her eyes up Azzi like she always did, like she was memorizing her again. “Hey pretty,” she murmured.

As soon as Paige was close enough, Azzi melted into her while her fingers found the waistband of Paige’s sweats tugging them up to cover the boxer band peeking out, because she felt the way a certain set of eye’s had shifted. The motion was subtle but possessive in a soft way. The corner of Paige’s mouth twitched like she knew that was Azzi’s way of silently claiming her space and she liked it.

“These are some of the people I wanted to introduce you to.” She turned toward the group with her hand still brushing against Paige’s waist. “Nika, Aaliyah, and Leah. Some of my old UConn teammates.”

Paige gave a polite nod with one hand tucked in her pocket and the other draped around Azzi.

“Leah Jackson,” Leah said, a little too eagerly as she extended her hand.

Paige glanced down at it but didn’t offer her own. She kept her hands where they were, before turning back to Azzi instead. “Wassup.”

Azzi had to bite down on her bottom lip to stop herself from smiling. Something about the way Paige moved with complete disinterest for other people was so attractive.

“I just wanted to introduce you,” Azzi said, smoothing over the moment. “We were thinking about getting some food later, just to catch up. I’d probably invite Cam and everybody for you.”

“For me?” Paige asked with a crooked smile as she lifted one of her eyebrows.

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Fine for the vibe, whatever.”

Paige hummed in response, clearly enjoying herself as she grinned at Azzi.

Leah decided to cut back in for a moment. “So, Paige how did y’all meet?”

Everyone could tell the question wasn’t out of normal curiosity. Nika, Aaliyah, and Azzi exchanged a look they’d shared more times than they could count. Leah wasn’t ever known for her discretion, or boundaries.

Paige glanced at Azzi in slight confusion before she answered dryly. “My sister.”

Leah smiled at her. “That’s nice. Who’s your sister?”

“Cam.”

Leah squinted, her voice tilting with recognition at the name. “Cameron Brink?”

Paige gave a tight nod before she turned to Azzi. “Imma go back over there, aight?”

Azzi didn’t need a full explanation, the slight tightness in Paige’s jaw said enough. So she hummed a soft, “Mhmm,” her eyes drifting down to Paige’s lips just before Paige leaned in to give her a quick kiss. Then she was walking back toward where Rickea and now Rae were laughing about something.

There was a brief silence among the group before Aaliyah cleared her throat. “Sooo…that’s your girlfriend?”

Azzi laughed. “Yeah that’s Paige for you.”

Leah mumbled, barely loud enough for the group to hear, “I figured she’d be nicer to your friends.”

Azzi's jaw tensed before she brought her Gatorade to her lips, sipping it slowly to stop herself from saying something rude. “She’s just not that talkative,” Azzi eventually said when she was done drinking, her tone slightly clipped.

Leah’s gaze drifted back over to Paige who was sitting in one of the sideline chairs with her legs stretched out in front of her with one arm tucked behind her head. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth twitched every so often indicating she was listening to whatever Rickea and Rae were talking about next to her.

Leah nodded slowly, still watching her as she said, “Got you.”

Azzi opted to not look at her again. Keeping her focus on her gatorade; on the label and the condensation slipping down the side until the tension started to bleed out of her shoulders.

Nika jumped in to shift the energy. “So where are we going to eat?”

Aaliyah clapped her hands together once. “Thank you! I’ve been starving since this morning. I'm not bouta lie.”

“I’m craving pasta,” Nika said. “Or tacos. Ooo taco pasta.”

Azzi laughed. “I don’t think that’s not a thing.”

“It definitely is and if it isn’t it should be,” Nika argued back.

Aaliyah pulled out her phone. “Alright, let’s find somewhere we can all agree on.”

“Y’all are so picky,” Azzi mumbled, glad to feel the tension in her shoulders finally ease. She let herself glance toward Paige, who had cracked one eye open as soon as Azzi looked over, like she could sense her about to look.

Azzi quickly looked away like a school girl with a crush as she smiled to herself, then turned back to the group. “Just let me know what y’all decide and I’ll let everybody else know.”

They all nodded as Azzi went to grab her stuff wanting to have a few hours of peace with Paige before going to meet up with them.

…

Later that night the sun had started to drop below the Miami skyline when Paige and Azzi stepped out of an Uber a few doors down from the restaurant Nika picked.

Paige climbed out first, turning to offer her hand to Azzi, even though she knew damn well she didn’t need help. Azzi accepted it anyway, letting Paige guide her out of the backseat with the same smile she always gave her when she was unnecessarily gentle.

As soon as Azzi’s feet hit the pavement, Paige put her hands on her waist and moved her a few inches over so she was on the inside of the sidewalk.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Paige just shrugged. “You already know how I am.” As she said that her gaze dipped, lingering a few seconds too long on the hem of Azzi’s short skirt before she said, “You been wearing a lotta short skirts lately.”

Azzi tilted her head towards Paige. “Is that a problem?”

“No, m’not saying that. Just an observation I’m making.”

Azzi smiled as Paige held the restaurant door open for her. “Well, keep observing. I like your attention.”

Paige just chuckled and shook her head before walking in behind Azzi.

Azzi spotted the table toward the back and there was only one seat left open, directly facing the entrance. Rae noticed them walking in and tapped Cam so she could slide out of her chair in the middle, before circling around the table to settle into a new spot. Paige caught the gesture and gave her a small nod of acknowledgment as she and Azzi made their way over.

When they sat down, the first thing Azzi noticed—before the music, the clatter of dishes, or even who was already talking—was Leah’s outfit. Or rather, the lack of it. The girl had on an extremely cropped halter top that barely covered her chest and a skirt that wasn’t very visible while she was sitting down. Azzi blinked once, maybe twice, before deciding not to say anything, instead ust filling it away for later.

She greeted everyone as she slid into her seat while Paige didn’t say much, just nodding at the table before glancing down to look at the taco menu.

Azzi settled into a conversation with Nika and Aaliyah to catch up on how their seasons were. Aaliyah talking about finding a better rhythm with the Mystics and Nika’s adjustment to being a part of the Storms roster rotations.

After a few minutes, Azzi nudged Paige’s thigh under the table and leaned closer, tone a little lower. “What are you getting?”

Paige flipped the corner of the menu with her thumb, then looked up at Azzi. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know if I want the chicken or the shrimp…”

That made Paige smile before chuckling as she reached for her water. “I’ll get the chicken for you.”

Azzi smiled widely like it was just them in the room. “Okay.”

Then, just as quickly, Azzi turned back towards Nika and Aaliyah like she knew Paige would end up getting the other meal of whatever she was debating between.

Across the table, Leah tilted her head as she watched the interaction, watching Paige for a few minutes afterwards. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she directed her voice across the table to Paige. “So, Paige, what do you do for a living?”

The question hung in the air for a few seconds too long without an answer.

Azzi noticed before anyone else did or she noticed differently. Her eyes flicked toward Paige and instead of finding her engaged in any sort of conversation, she found her sitting there silently. She was sitting back in her chair, rolling the paper from her straw between her fingers, her eyes seemingly focused on the spiral she was.

Azzi leaned closer and dropped her voice so only Paige could hear her. “Hey you.”

Paige looked up, her soft blue eyes blinking once before settling on Azzi’s brown ones. “Wassup?” she said gently.

“You okay?” Azzi asked as she studied her expressions.

Paige gave a faint smile, her fingers still moving around the straw paper. “Yeah, why?”

Azzi tilted her head. “You zoned out on me.”

Paige’s grin grew a little, at how cute Azzi looked. “Just wanted to turn my ears off for a second, that's all.”

Azzi looked at her for a few more moments making sure there was nothing else there before reaching under the table to squeeze her knee. “Okay.”

Leah took that as her moment to jump in again, making her voice a little brighter this time, like she wanted to be impossible to ignore. “So Paige, what do you do?”

Paige glanced up from what she was looking at. “I fight.”

Leah nodded like she already knew, sweeping her hair to rest on one shoulder. “Yeah, I feel like I heard Azzi mention that”

Paige just stared at her for a second processing the words without offering much in return before she looked away.

Not ready to let it go, Leah tried again. “You ever train other people?”

Before Paige could respond, Rae snorted and leaned in from across the table. “She’s not very good at it. First time she helped me she left me to go fuck Azzi in—”

“Rae!” Cam yelled loudly, cutting her off.

Azzi’s head snapped toward the conversation, stopping whatever she’d been saying to Nika. “Excuse me?”

Rae coughed, trying to swallow her laugh and walk it back at the same time, mumbling under her breath, “She did though…”

Cam shook her head, dragging a hand down her face in exasperation. “God, you have no filter.”

Of course this is when the waiter approached the table adding to the chaos when he paused with a huge grin that made it clear he thought he was charming. “Damn,” he said as his eyes swept across the group, “must be my lucky day. Never seen this many pretty women at once in my life.”

The table gave a collection of polite laughs as he started to take orders, going around the table one by one. With each woman he made sure to let compliments slip in between confirming the tacos and drinks they wanted.

When he got to Azzi, he grinned at her before licking his lips. “What can I get for you, babygirl?” he asked, letting his eyes linger on her.

Azzi gave him her polite practiced smile and said, “The shrimp tacos and my water is fine, thanks.”

As he scribbled her order down, Paige who had already given her order shifted in her seat. She moved the hand that was previously resting on the table, to settle it on Azzi’s thigh. Using her thumb to slowly brush over the inside of Azzi’s leg.

Azzi didn’t look at her, but the corner of her mouth twitched as she surprised her grin.

The waiter didn’t seem to notice because he was already distracted with flirting with Rae.

Azzi reached down a few seconds later, lacing their fingers together underneath the table.

After that dinner carried on easily. The table was lively but never got too loud as everyone was naturally attuned to their surroundings and didn’t want to interrupt anyone else having their meal.

At one point Cam turned toward Paige, “So you thinking about taking another fight?”

Paige glanced at her. “Maybe.”

Cam raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? No explanation? No other comments?”

“There’s an explanation. Just not a public one yet.”

Cam nodded, accepting that answer as Paige added, “I just miss it. The rhythm of being in the gym. The work that comes with it.”

“Long as it’s not a crutch Paigey.”

Paige gave her a small nod and the conversation flowed back into other parts of the table allowing Paige’s eyes to go down toward her plate. Or, more accurately, what used to be her plate.

Azzi, without noticing, had eaten more off Paige’s plate than her own, her fork drifting over often between comments she threw toward Nika or Aaliyah.

Paige watched her for a few seconds before she lifted Azzi’s plate and slid hers in its place in front of Azzi. Azzi didn’t even pause in her sentence; she just kept talking, moving her fork to the new plate like it was always there.

Rickea caught the quiet plate swap and grinned, shaking her head before calling Paige out, causing a few heads to turn. “Paige, you soft as hell.”

Paige just grinned a little as she finished chewing, before she leaned back in her chair. “Aight, chill.” She said, chuckling a little. “She was already halfway through my food anyway.”

Azzi just shrugged her shoulders as she finished chewing. “It was better than mine.”

That got a few laughs from around the table.

Cam leaned over, giving Paige a look. “So that’s what you’re doing now?”

“What?” Paige asked as she sipped her water.

“I mean, it’s cute but I definitely remember you talking shit when Ben did stuff like that,” Cam teased.

“I appreciate you,” Azzi said softly, nudging Paige with her knee under the table. Paige bumped hers back as she ate some rice to hide her smile.

Leah, who’d been relatively quiet, leaned on the table accentuating her cleavage and tilted her head toward Paige. “Paige, I feel like I know something about everybody at this table but you.”

Paige barely looked up from her plate and didn’t bother to stop chewing. “Not much to know.”

Rae snorted, trying to cover it with her hand causing Rickea to nudge her leg under the table subtly kicking her and telling her to stay out of it. Cam was in the middle of cutting through her enchilada and just raised her eyebrows without looking up.

Nika leaned in offering a more lighthearted tone. “So, is Cam your blood sister or…?”

Cam glanced up. “She’d probably be nicer to me if we were blood.”

Paige just shook her head, biting into her food.

“But we’re god sisters,” Cam clarified, wiping her mouth. “We grew up together, our dads are super close.”

The UConn players nodded and Rickea grinned, deciding to add to the information they had about Paige, “Rae had a lil girl crush on Paige when we first met.”

Rae’s jaw dropped. “No I didn’t!”

Azzi laughed and said, “You still do.”

The table all laughed while Rae looked betrayed. “Wow, Azzi. That’s crazy.”

Azzi gave her a mock innocent look before she sipped her drink. “You were blushing when y’all found us in the kitchen a few weeks ago.”

Cam covered her mouth, laughing.

“I wasn’t blushing!” Rae insisted, but the redness creeping up her neck betrayed her answer.

Rickea leaned into the teasing. “Nah, you definitely were. Face was pink as hell.”

Rae groaned and dropped her head on the table. “Y’all are ridiculous and I hate y’all.”

Leah’s eyes drifted between Rae and Paige. “So you’re used to women throwing themselves at you Paige?”

“No.”

Paige’s one word answer sat in the air before Leah pivoted, looking at Azzi. “You’re cool with one of your teammates crushing on your girlfriend?”

Azzi added a slight sharpness to her tone when she answered. “Rae doesn’t actually want Paige. She just gets a little bi panic sometimes.”

Rae lifted her head from the table. “Y’all gotta stop calling me gay every chance you get.”

A collective chorus came from around the table, “You literally are.” Even Paige cracked a smile.

Azzi, calmly added, “Rae’s also not grimy, though. I know I don’t actually have anything to worry about.” She let that last sentence hang in the air purposefully letting her eyes drift to meet Leah’s.

Leah lifted her glass to drink it, offering Azzi a tight smile over the rim.

The moment passed and there was a slight tension that lingered but the table rolled on like nothing happened.

Azzi turned back toward Paige, “You like the shrimp baby?”

Paige nodded with her mouth full. “It’s good.”

Azzi gave her a look. “Do you really like it, or are you just saying that ’cause I like the chicken more? You don’t usually like to eat shrimp.”

Paige laughed, quietly from her chest. “Nah, it’s good don’t worry about it mama.”

Azzi was skeptical so she picked up one of her chicken tacos, and held it out for Paige to take a bite. Paige grinned as she leaned in to take a bite, her lips brushing the edge of Azzi’s fingers.

Azzi smiled softly, wiping the sauce from the corner of Paige’s lips, and letting her eyes linger on her for a second longer than she realized.

While Paige was chewing, she caught Leah, looking again. Not even trying to be subtle with it this time around.

Paige leaned in closer to Azzi to put her lips near her ear. “Wassup with your friend?”

Azzi chuckled under her breath, shaking her head as she looked down at her plate. “She’s…” She paused, eyes narrowing thoughtfully like she was editing herself. “Loose.”

Paige coughed to hide her laugh. “That’s the word you went with?”

Azzi nodded slowly, biting back a smile. “It’s the nicest one that came to mind.”

Paige kept her eyes on Azzi as she asked, “Why she here then?”

“Because I’m nice.” She glanced at Paige and made her tone a little drier before she added, “And we went to UConn together.”

“Mmm,” Paige hummed, leaning back in her chair. She stretched her arm out, throwing it across the back of Azzi’s chair before she went back to eating.

When the two of them drift back to the conversation taking place at the table Cam was talking about something that happened at a photoshoot while Rae and Rickea threw in their two cents every few seconds. It was the kind of disorganized energy Azzi was used to from her teammates but her eyes kept drifting to Leah.

More specifically the way Leah kept watching Paige out of the corner of her eye. Or the way her laugh got a little louder whenever Paige so much as shifted the way she was sitting. The way her fingers ran along the rim of her glass like she was trying to catch attention.

Azzi opted not to say anything at first. Deciding to just lean a little closer into Paige, running her hands along her arms or messing with the hair on the back of her neck subtly.

But then Leah did that thing again where she dragged her straw between her lips slow as hell while she looked right at Paige like she wanted to be caught ‘subtly’ doing it.

Azzi decided not to make a scene. She just reached for Paige’s water without asking because hers was empty and took a long sip before setting it back down.

“Baby, can you pass me your phone?”

Paige naturally went to grab Azzi’s phone out of her pocket before she processed what she asked. “You said my phone?”

Azzi nodded. “Mhmm.”

Paige reached into her sweats pocket and handed it to her. Azzi leaned into Paige’s side as she took it, her shoulder pressing gently against Paige’s side as she scrolled through the screen.

Paige glanced down at her, laughing when she saw Azzi looking for something to do. “What are you even looking at?”

Azzi shrugged. Paige grinned and leaned closer, dropping her voice to make sure no one else could hear her. “You know I love it when you do that.”

Azzi’s eyes lifted slowly, meeting hers. “I know.”

You plan on doing something about it later? Follow up on that whole ‘wear me out’ talk this morning?”

Azzi tilted her head, looking up at Paige in that way that always made Paige’s stomach warm. “Seems like that’s what you want.”

Paige licked her lips, dragging her eyes over Azzi’s lips before meeting her eyes again. “Maybe.”

Azzi chuckled under her breath. “The marks from last time just faded a few days ago.”

Paige hummed. “Mmm. I get real lonely without ‘em.”

That made Azzi grin and she slid her hand up, to curl her fingers gently around Paige’s jaw to guide her ear close to her lips. “You’re such a bottom, baby.”

Paige tightened her jaw turning her head so her eyes could linger on Azzi’s lips. She licked her own slowly before asking, “Am I?”

“You are.”

Paige nodded once. “Bet.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, catching the shift in Paige’s tone. “I don’t like how you said that like I won’t put you in your place.

Paige just nodded as she used her fork to grab some rice. “We’ll see.”

Azzi chuckled. “We will.”

The rest of dinner passed in an easier rhythm. Paige kept one arm around the back of Azzi’s chair, using her fingers to brush over Azzi’s arm now and then. Azzi had her hand on Paige’s thigh, her thumb tracing over the fabric of her sweats absentmindedly.

When the check came, Paige reached for it with her card already in her hand.

Nika leaned forward. “We can split that.”

“Let me send you some of it,” Aaliyah added, already opening her phone.

Rickea didn’t look up from her phone. “Y’all, don’t waste your time. She already gave it to the waiter.”

Cam added, “There’s really no point. You’re just going to waste your breath.”

Leah chimed in, making sure to make her tone sweet. “So how can I pay you back?”

“Azzi’s gon’ pay me back for it,” Paige said, making sure her eyes lingered on her girlfriend. “Don’t worry about it.”

Azzi bit her lip at the insinuation and Cam groaned next to them, closing her eyes. “You’re truly disgusting,” she mumbled

The waiter returned with Paige’s card and she handed him a cash tip causing him to pause. “Yo, this is too much, man.”

Paige waved him off without looking up from her lap where she was putting her card back in her wallet. “It’s all good.”

Once everything was squared away, Paige turned to Azzi, already reaching for her hand underneath the table. “You ready baby?”

Azzi nodded as they stood up with their fingers still laced.

As they slid their chairs in, Rickea needed to get one more dig in. “Y’all gonna make out in the Uber or wait till you get back home?”

Azzi shot her a look over her shoulder. “Worry about your own ride, Kea.”

Paige just huffed out a laugh, keeping her hand on the small of Azzi’s back as they walked toward the door.

…

Contrary to what Rickea thought, the car ride was quiet. Azzi had her head resting on Paige’s shoulder and their fingers were laced together on her lap.

“Thank you,” Azzi whispered, her voice soft and close to Paige’s skin. “For dinner. For always paying.”

Paige shrugged, glancing down at her. “You know it’s nothing.”

Azzi tilted her head up to look at her. “Still. I appreciate you and everything you do for me.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, the lights from the street outside sliding over their faces.

“You good?” Paige asked quietly, her eyes still looking out the window at the city rolling by.

“Yeah. I’m amazing, actually. Why?”

Paige gave her a soft smile. “Just wanted to check in with you. Make sure you’re okay.”

Azzi looked up at her again, letting her gaze linger this time. “You always do.”

Without saying anything else, Paige leaned her head down, brushing her lips softly against Azzi’s.

Azzi let her eyes flutter closed, whispering against Paige’s mouth, “I love you.”

Paige grinned as she pulled back to look at her for a few seconds, using her thumb to gently brush a loose braid out of Azzi’s face. “I love you.”

Azzi squeezed Paige’s hand a little tighter then leaned her head back on Paige’s shoulder.

The city passed by them in streaks of color as Azzi let the silence settle between them comfortably to let Paige have a moment.

Paige rested her head on top of Azzi’s and neither of them said anything else for the rest of the ride.

…

Paige was standing under the hot stream of water when she felt arms wrap around her torso. A soft smile immediately pulled at her lips and she wiped the water from her face before she turned around finding Azzi with her braids up in a bun, skin already dewy from wiping her makeup off.

“Wassup.”

Azzi laughed, returning Paige’s smile. “I need to remove that word from your vocabulary.”

Paige laughed, moving her hands up to rest on Azzi’s hips. “Why you hatin’?”

“You talk to me like I’m everybody else.”

Paige’s smile softened and she pulled Azzi in a little closer, wrapping her arms tighter around her waist to tuck her head into Azzi’s neck, where she pressed a few gentle kisses against her skin.

“You want me to talk to you softer, sweetheart?” she asked quietly, each word causing her lips to brush against Azzi’s throat.

Azzi leaned into her touch, letting the warmth of Paige’s mouth and the water ease her into silence.

Paige whispered again, gentler this time, “Answer me when I’m talkin’ to you, baby.”

Azzi felt that flutter in her chest and the warmth curling deep in her stomach almost immediately. She took a quiet breath and let her fingers slide up Paige’s back to the nape of her neck, holding her in place.

“I love when you’re gentle with me,” Azzi whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

Paige hummed as she started to kiss along Azzi’s neck. She sucked gently enough to draw a soft sound from Azzi’s lips before soothing the spot with her tongue causing Azzi’s eyes to flutter closed.

“You make it easy,” Paige whispered. “So perfect for me.”

Azzi swallowed, stroking her thumb in slow circles along the base of Paige’s neck.

Paige kissed at Azzi’s pulse point, opening her mouth a little more. “It’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“Paige baby,” Azzi whispered. It was barely audible, like it slipped from somewhere in her chest as she pressed herself into Paige a little more, like she couldn’t help it.

Paige smirked against her neck. “Be a good girl and say please for me.”

Azzi barely hesitated. “Please, baby.”

Paige stopped moving for a second to let the tension grow between them, before whispering close to her ear, “Please who?”

Azzi swallowed as she felt heath pooling between her legs. “Please, daddy.”

Paige grinned before she messily kissed at Azzi’s neck slowly “Good girl.”

Paige let her fingers trail down, to rest against Azzi’s clit. She made sure to just barely brush her fingers against it as she traced soft circles against the bud. Azzi’s forehead dropped onto Paige’s shoulder and her breath was a little shaky against her neck. Neither of them said anything for a while. The only sounds coming from the water and the rhythm of Azzi’s quiet moans filling the space.

Paige made sure to keep her hand steady, drawing tight circles without thinking. Azzi’s body rose and fell with each breath she took until she tilted her head up her nose brushing along Paige’s jaw before she lifted her chin enough to kiss her.

It was soft at first, patient as Paige moved her fingers in perfect circles running through Azzi’s folds every so often.

But when Azzi pushed herself closer, shifting her hips against Paige’s hands her fingers slipped near Azzi’s entrance and she felt her stomach tighten at how wet Azzi was.

Paige slid her tongue gently against Azzi’s, deepening the kiss with a loud exhale that sounded more like a sigh than anything else. She pulled her hand from Azzi’s center to circle her arms around her waist instead to pull her in tighter.

Their bodies slid together easily keeping the kiss slow but not as neat.

When Azzi caught Paige’s bottom lip between her teeth, she tugged it just enough to pull a low groan from Paige, her fingers flexing against her skin. Azzi let herself be backed up, her shoulder blades pressing into the tile as Paige’s body crowded her space.

Azzi gasped when her back met the semi cold wall, and Paige took the opening slipping her tongue into Azzi’s mouth. Azzi tried to take back control tilting her head to deepen the kiss herself but Paige met her halfway, one hand sliding up the nape of her neck to hold her in place gently.

Neither one of them were rough but the energy between them was taut. Like every move was from one of them trying to gain the upper hand. Paige pressed forward with a gentle force, like she could pin Azzi in place without using her hands. Azzi answered by dragging her nails down Paige’s spine, making her groan in her mouth from the slight sting.

Azzi kissed with a hungry rhythm intent on trying to lead and Paige kissed back with a more steady control trying to make her earn it.

Before Azzi could fully register the shift, Paige was turning off the water. The sudden stillness of the steamy air only made the tension between them more pronounced. Without breaking contact for long, Paige reached for a towel, wrapping it around Azzi and running it gently over her shoulders as she walked them backward until Azzi’s back met the edge of the bathroom counter.

“Sit up here for me, mama,” Paige whispered.

Azzi met her eyes and didn’t move, her lips still swollen from their kiss. This was her subtle, stubborn attempt to hold her ground. To keep the little bit of control Paige had given her.

Paige raised her eyebrow before she just decided to lift her onto the counter like she didn’t weigh anything. Azzi caught as she was set on the counter, her thighs parting instinctively.

Paige moved to stand between Azzi’s legs, her blue eyes appearing darker as she dragged them slowly across Azzi’s frame. She licked her lips without thinking, her gaze focusing on Azzi’s bare chest, the way the water still clung to her skin, on Azzi’s natural toned muscles.

Noticing the daze she had Paige in, Azzi decided to use it to her advantage. “Get on your knees for me.”

Paige’s lips parted in awe as she processed that Azzi was talking to her, giving her instructions. She blinked once, then met Azzi’s brown eyes. “Hm?”

Azzi let her hands glide up Paige’s shoulders to press her down. A slight nidge letting Paige know what she wanted. “I said get on your knees for me.”

Paige dropped almost immediately, looking between Azzi’s legs and shaking her head. "Jesus you’re so wet for me baby." As she says this she spreads Azzi’s legs further, lifting one over her shoulder.

Paige closed her mouth around Azzi’s center sliding her tongue through her folds with a slow pressure before she zeroed in on her clit. She sucked it into her mouth, circling her tongue a few times on the bud before realising it and dragging her mouth down. Azzi slapped one of her hands against the counter behind her as she tangled the other one in Paige’s hair jerking her hips forward in an attempt to feel more. "Oh shit baby, you're so good. Fuck don't stop."

Paige moaned into Azzi’s center like she was feeling it herself. Like Azzi was her favorite thing to eat as she swirled her tongue messily around her. She locked her lips around her clit again before sliding her tongue down and easing it into Azzi. This caused Azzi to moan as her eyes rolled back in bliss.

"You taste so good mama," Paige said. Her horse voice vibrated against Azzi making her hips jerked forward, again gushing around her tongue. Paige hummed at this, pushing her muscle deeper into Azzi urging her to tighten her fingers in her hair. The sounds echoing through the bathroom were louder than they probably should’ve been for an apartment but Azzi couldn’t help it.

All Azzi could do was grind into Paige’s mouth, chasing every movement of her tongue as she let her head fall back against the wall of the bathroom. Paige pulled Azzi closer, lapping at her center like she couldn’t get enough of how she tasted.

“Shit baby swear I could eat you for the rest of my life,” Paige whispered before she dipped back down.

Azzi moaned at this but before she let herself fully melt into Paige’s mouth she remembered she was supposed to be the one in control.

She pushed herself into Paige’s mouth a few more times, biting her lip to stop the obscene sounds that were trying to fall from her lips before her fingers flexed and she pressed against Paige’s shoulders to ease her back. Paige resisted with a low whine, her hands tightening to hold onto Azzi’s ass.

“Uh-uh,” Paige whispered, her lips brushing against Azzi’s center. “Come on, baby, you doing so good for me.”

Azzi’s hand down and she wrapped her fingers around Paige’s jaw to tilt her head up towards her. Paige’s eyes were hazy, her pupils blown as she licked her lips. Her nose, lips, and chin were all slick, shining with the bathroom lights.

Azzi held her gaze. “Stand up.”

Paige blinked in a slight daze, clearly not ready to let go. “Azzi, please,” she whispered with a horse, needy voice. “Lemme help you finish—I swear, baby, I got you, you don’t gotta do nothing. Just sit back—”

Azzi shook her head once, slowly. “No.”

She tightened her grip and pulled gently on Paige’s jaw to make her stand up. Paige’s legs responded before the rest of her did as she stumbled up to stand in front of Azzi with slightly uneven breaths, her hands twitching at her sides like she didn’t know what to do with them now.

Azzi studied her for a long second before smiling. “You listen to me right? Not the other way around.”

Paige swallowed hard and nodded.

“Good,” Azzi whispered. “Now go in the room and lay on the bed for me.”

Paige licked her lips, still breathing a little heavier than usual, trailing her eyes down Azzi’s body and back up to her face.

“What if I don’t want to?”

Azzi didn’t say a word. She just tilted her head to the side and raised one eyebrow slowly. Paige felt the message hit her square in the chest.

She bit the inside of her cheek, deciding not to argue back yet before she turned and walked out of the bathroom.

When Azzi walked into the bedroom, she paused for a second at the door, to look at Paige sprawled out on the bed. Her blonde hair was messily fanned over the pillow. Her body was relaxed but her eyes were more alert now, following every step Azzi took toward her.

Azzi licked her tongue across her bottom lip and couldn’t help but smirk when she caught the gesture. Azzi crawled up the bed, her knees sinking into the mattress until she was hovering over Paige, her lips brushing over Paige’s collarbone before settling next to her ear. “Don’t touch,” Azzi whispered in warning.

Paige just hummed lowly, as she cockily grinned up at Azzi.

Azzi moved down pressing soft kisses along the top of Paige’s chest before letting her mouth drift lower. Her lips dragged across Paige’s skin before she started to suck and nip at it, leaving marks that bloomed beneath the surface. She wasn’t biting enough to hurt Paige, just enough pressure to make her feel it later the way Azzi knew she liked.

Paige's breath hitched when Azzi’s mouth traveled across the edge of her ribs, a faint sound leaving her throat when Azzi bit a little harsher than expected. Azzi pulled back to glance up, her eyes meeting Paige’s. “You good?” Azzi asked softly, her fingers still tracing the side of Paige’s waist.

Paige nodded. “You know I love it baby,” she whispered.

Azzi grinned before she attached her mouth back to Paige’s skin and worked her way down her torso slowly, biting and sucking along the smooth plane of her abs, then lower. With each one she purposefully left behind a faint sting and followed it up with the soft drag of her tongue to soothe it.

“Shit,” Paige whispered as she tilted her head down to look. Her torso already littered with marks, her skin glowing under the low light in the room.

Azzi lifted her head, both of their eyes dark as they looked at each other before, Azzi lowered her mouth, just above Paige’s hip. She bit down hard enough to make Paige wince slightly before she sucked, harshly.

“Ah fuck, Azzi…” Paige exhaled, her hands gripping the sheets to stop herself from touching her. “Feels so good baby—fuck.”

Azzi sat back tracing her fingers over one of the deeper marks near Paige’s ribs. “You like feeling all this don’t you?” she said quietly, but it wasn’t really a question.

Paige nodded as her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I like it. I love—I love when you do that.”

Azzi smiled and leaned back over Paige, her hands bracketing the side of Paiges ribs, letting her lips brush just above her sternum.

“You wanna be marked up like this? Wanna walk around letting everybody know I did this to you?” As she asked this she trailed her tongue along Paige’s abs as she looked up at her.

Paige tightened her jaw and dropped her head back against the pillow, “Yeah…yeah, I want that baby.”

Azzi sucked on her hips again,lower this time, before lifting her head and whispering, “Say thank you.”

Paige’s eyes fluttered. “Thank you, baby.”

Azzi bit at her hip again, drawing another soft moan from Paige’s throat. She pulled back to admire the growing constellation of love bites, flushed skin and marks.

Satisfied with what she saw, Azzi moved up to hover over Paige whispering, “You can touch now baby.”

Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi’s neck and pulled Azzi’s body on top of hers connecting their lips in a slow dance.

Azzi slid her hand down Paige’s side, gliding her fingers over her waist until she settled between Paige’s legs feeling how warm she was already. Azzi ran her fingers through Paige’s folds a few times before she slid to fingers in slowly.

Paige couldn’t help but arch into the feeling, letting out a low moan as her mouth parted.

Azzi rested her forehead against Paige’s as she watched every expression flicker across her face. “I love you like this.”

She kept her forehead resting lightly against hers, watching every twitch of her face, every little shiver. her legs shifted feet planting against the mattress as her hips rolled up to meet the rhythm of Azzi’s hand.

"Right there baby," Paige whispered out as she started to roll her hips to meet Azzi’s movements. "Shit feels good baby."

Azzi made sure to keep moving her fingers in careful strokes. Moving her thumb up to circle Paige’s clit with just enough pressure to make her body shake slightly underneath her.

"Fuck keep going for me baby," Paige said.

Azzi descended down Paige’s body keeping her same rhythm as she felt Paige’s core tightening around her fingers. When she reached Paige’s hips she pressed her legs apart easily before she leaned down and dragged her tongue over her clit a few times.

She placed her free hand on Paige’s hips to keep them down before she wrapped her lips around her clit and gently sucked as she curled her fingers.

Paige’s hand moved down to rest on Azzi’s head, a loud moan coming from her throat. Azzi couldn’t help but look up to see Paige’s expression. The way her lips parted, how her eyebrows creased together and how she worked to push her hips up into Azzi.

“Fuck—shit so crazy mama,” Paige moaned out, her voice horse.

Azzi moaned into her mouth in response, letting go of Paige’s hips to let her arch further into her mouth. Azzi sped up her movements and Paige burrowed her head further into the pillows biting on her bottom lip to suppress the sounds coming from her throat.

Paige started to push herself unrhythmically into Azzi’s face and fingers to chase her release.

The sounds of Paige’s low moans and the sounds dripping from her center had Azzi pushing her own hips into the mattress for any kind of friction.

Without any warning Azzi felt Paige’s thighs start to tremble, heat pooling out of her as she came undone. Azzi made sure she fucked her through it, keeping the same pace with her tongue and fingers until Paige was no longer twitching under her.

Azzi eased away from Paige’s center, moving herself up to straddle her stomach. She sat there for a few minutes, watching Paige’s relaxed expression before she leaned up and whispered in her ear, “Can I ride you please baby?” slowly rolling her hips over Paige’s stomach.

“Of course you can mama.” Paige whispered back as she let Azzi suck a mark into her neck. When Azzi was done she connected her lips with Paiges and rolled her hips into the kiss.

Paige reached down to rest her hands on Azzi’s hips, guiding the way her hips were rocking further into her stomach. She attached her lips to Azzi’s nipple and Azzi’s back naturally arched into her mouth as she let out a string of moans.

Azzi ran her hand through Paige’s hair, holding her head against her chest and letting out a soft moan when she felt Paige nip at her nipple. “Oh fuck,” she moaned when Paige tightened her grip around her waist guiding her movements with more pressure.

“Shit daddy—“ Azzi moaned as she started to move a little more frantically, breathing faster in Paige’s ear. Paige tensed her abdomen and Azzi moaned again shakily, rolling into Paige harder now as her slick spread across her stomach.

For a few minutes Paige just watched Azzi in awe, watching every grind that made Azzi whisper her name, the way her head fell back and her eyes fluttered shut in bliss.

“Shit I’m about to cum baby,” Azzi cried out, rocking herself harder, moaning out into the air of the room. “Please don’t shit—please…fuck baby.” Azzi's head dropped near Paige’s now as her release started to coil tight in her stomach.

Azzi gasped, her voice cracking against Paige’s skin. “Fuck daddy I’m—I’m about to—”

Before the words slipped off Azzi’s tongue Paige’s hands were on Azzi’s hips dragging her across her stomach one more time before lifting her off of her abdomen causing a startled whimper out of her as she gushed down her legs without permission. Azzi’s legs were still shaking when Paige flipped her onto her back gently.

Paige got up to stand on the side of the bed with her stomach glistening with the evidence of how wet Azzi got for her. She ran a hand through her damp hair and then looked down at her girlfriend who was messy and flushed, already watching her with wide eyes for whatever was next.

“C’mere,” Paige said.

Azzi crawled forward on her hands and knees stopping when she was kneeling right in front of her. Paige tilted her head down to look at her. Smiling a little at what she saw. “Clean me up.”

Azzi’s lips parted to say something before she just nodded and did exactly what she was told. Taking her time, letting her tongue slide over Paige’s skin generously. Paige’s hand slid to the back of her head as she watched her.

When she was done, Paige gently cupped her jaw with one hand. “You had fun?” she asked, brushing her thumb along Azzi’s cheek.

Azzi nodded into her hand, as she looked up at her with her doe eyes.

Paige grinned before whispering. “Don’t move.”

She stepped away, and Azzi obeyed, deciding to just sit there and watch her move. Paige crossed the room, grabbing the strap before she climbed back onto the bed slowly.

She slid her fingers under Azzi’s chin and guided her face up before leaning in to kiss her gently, a contrast to the rounds before. Paige kissed her like she owned every inch of her, and Azzi kissed her back like she was okay with that.

Paige adjusted the strap easing one end into herself with a soft sigh before she leaned down to look at Azzi.

“You good beautiful?" Paige asked gently.

Azzi nodded and Paige pushed into her slowly, both of them moaning at the feeling. Paige rested her head on Azzi’s shoulders for a few seconds, adjusting to the feeling before she started moving her hips into Azzi. She made sure to hit deep into Azzi’s cervix each time, using her hands on Azzi’s waist to pull her deeper into the thrust causing the headboard to hit the wall behind them.

Paige leaned down, pulling Azzi’s mouth into a messy kiss, their lips sliding against each other like they couldn’t get enough. Azzi's fingers found Paige's hair without, pulling gently at the slightly strands as she pulled her closer.

There was something incredible, almost dizzying, about the way Paige moved into her. The rhythm she had. How she could fill Azzi up completely in one moment and make her ache from complete absence in the next. The constant push and pull and the quiet control it gave Paige made Azzi feel owned in the most respectful way.

Paige pulled back to drop her eyes to where their bodies were meeting. Her breath hitched, and she muttered, “Shit,” almost like she didn’t mean to say it out loud when she saw the slick pooling between the both of them.

Azzi couldn’t find her voice to answer. She just wrapped her arms around Paige’s back, nails grazing skin as she pulled her even closer, wrapping her legs around her hips. Her forehead pressed against Paige’s jaw.

Paige kissed along Azzi’s cheek before bringing their foreheads together.

“You feel that baby?” she whispered, her uneven breaths brushing across Azzi’s skin. “That’s mine. You’re mine.”

Azzi nodded, her lips parting as quiet moans fell from her mouth.

Paige brushed her thumbs across Azzi’s cheeks. “Tell me it’s mine.”

Azzi choked on a moan, her voice unsteady as she nodded quickly. “It’s yours, baby. Fuck I’m yours.”

Paige smiled, leaning in again so their foreheads could touch. Her hands still resting on Azzi’s cheeks gently.

Azzi’s hands moved up, gently guiding Paige’s wrists toward her neck to wrap around it. Paige shook her head no. “Don’t do that, mama.”

“I want it daddy,” Azzi whispered. “Just be gentle with me.”

Paige swallowed,letting her eyes search Azzi before she nodded, adjusting her hold to have both hands wrapped gently around Azzi’s neck.

Azzi’s lashes fluttered as her eyes rolled back and Paige leaned in again. “Say it again for me,” Paige moaned out, her mouth brushing Azzi’s jaw as she rolled her hips into her. “Say who you belong to.”

“You, Paige. Only you baby.”

Paige hummed, like that was all she needed to hear to make it in the world before she started to speed up. “Suck a good girl.”

"Fuck yes…shit baby harder," Azzi moaned out as Paige started to roll into her quicker. Azzi’s lips parted as silent moans slipped out and Paige leaned down, using her thumb to open Azzi’s mouth further, spitting in her mouth and watching as Azzi looked straight at her and swallowed it.

The sight made Paife’s stroked falter so they flipped over, Azzi easily finding a rhythm to grind on the strap. Paige hands found Azzi’s hips as she started meeting her movements with her own hips, both of them moaning without restraint. “Mmm, just like that mama. Ride me just like that,” Paige groaned and Azzi bounced on her harder, filling the room with the mix of their moans, the bed hitting the wall, and their skin meeting one another as they chased an orgasm together.

Paige sat up, chest to chest with Azzi, pulling her into a sloppy uncoordinated kiss. "I need you in me so bad daddy," Azzi whispered as she dug her nails into Paige’s back, the sharp sensation making her hiss.

Paige let her head rest back against the headboard as she moaned, “Do it again and I promise Imma give it to you baby. Give you whatever you want.”

Azzi grinned, settling Paige further into her lap, her fingers trailing down her spine in slow, deliberate strokes.

It only took a few more thrusts of their hips into one another before they came undone together, Azzi’s nails dragging down Paige’s back as she clung to her desperately.

Paige collapsed on the bed, easing Azzi down with her, both of them sweater and more sticky than they’d probably prefer.

Azzi trailed lazy kisses along Paige’s neck as she caught her breath before whispering, “I love you.”

Paige smiled with her eyes closed, teaching her finger down Azzi’s spine. “I love you, baby.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes catching their breath, Azzi gently tracing patterns over Paige’s stomach with the tip of her finger while Paige did the same to her back. The silence felt like a second skin to both of them.

Then Azzi’s phone buzzed. Holding the sheets to her chest Azzi stretched over Paige to grab it from the nightstand.

Her eyebrows raised as she read the screen, then she snorted, turning her phone toward Paige.

Rae [3:22 AM]:

If you’re keeping me up until 3 a.m., at least invite me next time.

Paige laughed, starting to shift underneath Azzi a little before a sting pulled a small wince from her. “Shit,” she mumbled, reaching back instinctively.

“You okay?” Azzi asked, a little more alert with concern.

Paige’s fingers came back with a faint streak of red. She looked at it before she shrugged. “I’m good. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re bleeding and trying to cuddle like that’s normal,” Azzi said, already sitting up.

Paige reached for her. “C’mon, lay back down—”

“Nope.” Azzi cut her off, pulling the sheet off them and standing up, not giving Paige a choice to say no as she tugged her up by the wrist. “Shower. Now.”

Paige groaned but followed her, letting herself be led with a small smile on her lips. “You’re bossy,” she mumbled.

Azzi glanced back at her pretending to glare but Paige just grinned cutely and Azzi could only roll her eyes.

The two of them stepped in the shower again, rinsing away everything from the night. Azzi stood behind Paige at first, resting her arms around her waist and resting her chin between her shoulder blades. Paige covered her hands with her own and leaned back into her.

Both of them mumbled I love you’s before they closed their eyes and let the warmth hit their bodies.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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astroxrion · 1 month ago

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How to Get Rich Using Astrology:

Jupiter in Aries

You become wealthy by taking bold, fearless action. Your luck shows up when you jump into new ventures without overthinking. To maximize it, follow your impulses and stay physically active to fuel your drive. Trust your gut to lead you to opportunities—your courage will always pay off.

Jupiter in Taurus

Slow and steady wins your race. You build wealth by investing in long-lasting assets like real estate, luxury goods, or businesses rooted in stability. Your luck comes from consistency—don’t rush. Focus on building practical skills and surround yourself with comfort to stay grounded and attract abundance.

Jupiter in Gemini

Talk your way to fortune. Networking, communication, and versatility are your wealth magnets. You thrive when juggling multiple ideas or projects. Keep learning and sharing knowledge—publishing, teaching, and media can be major income streams. Stay curious, and your quick mind will always find new avenues.

Jupiter in Cancer

Nurture your wealth by creating safe, supportive spaces. Real estate, family businesses, or caregiving professions attract abundance. Your instincts guide you—follow your feelings when making financial choices. Emotional security and loyalty to your vision will naturally lead to long-term success.

Jupiter in Leo

Be the star and wealth will follow. Your creative self-expression, confidence, and charisma attract success. Don’t hold back from showcasing your talents. Performance, entertainment, and leadership roles are your money-makers. Embrace your spotlight—your passion inspires others to invest in you.

Jupiter in Virgo

Details are your gold mine. Build wealth by mastering your craft and monetizing practical skills. Your luck shows up when you organize, refine, and serve others. Focus on health, productivity, and precision to attract consistent growth. Efficiency and helpfulness will always be rewarded.

Jupiter in Libra

Partner up to prosper. You thrive in balanced collaborations, art, and aesthetics. Wealth comes when you build harmonious connections and focus on fairness in business. Style, beauty, and diplomacy can be lucrative—your charm naturally draws in support and resources when you keep the peace.

Jupiter in Scorpio

Wealth comes from embracing depth and transformation. Investments, psychology, and uncovering hidden truths bring fortune. Don’t fear intensity—use your passion to fuel ambitious goals. Face your fears and work through challenges head-on. Your resilience attracts power and financial stability.

Jupiter in Sagittarius

Think big, travel far, and expand your horizons. Your luck shows up when you take risks, explore new cultures, or share wisdom. Wealth grows when you align with your truth—publishing, teaching, and global ventures are key. Keep your spirit adventurous and follow your passion for freedom.

Jupiter in Capricorn

You build wealth through hard work and discipline. Authority and respect are your assets. Structure your goals, stay practical, and climb steadily. Professionalism and commitment attract long-term success. Patience is your power—master the grind, and rewards will follow in time.

Jupiter in Aquarius

Innovation brings wealth. Think outside the box, embrace tech, and build communities. Your luck shows up when you challenge norms and pioneer new ideas. Networking and social causes can be profitable when you stay true to your vision. Share your insights to inspire change—and success.

Jupiter in Pisces

Dream your wealth into reality. Creativity, compassion, and spirituality attract abundance. Follow your intuition and tap into your imagination. Healing work, art, and helping others elevate your life. Let go of rigid plans and trust that flowing with your dreams will manifest prosperity.

Get an Astrology Reading With me : https://www.tumblr.com/astroxrion/784631769533136896/o-my-readings-the-rion-code-o?source=share

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dollcait · 26 days ago

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|ૂo̴̶̷᷄︿o̴̶̷̥᷅๑₎ა thinking of ceo!cait..

ceo!cait presents herself with an air of understated elegance. she embraces refinement that exudes subtleness yet a confident sense of wealth. she oftentimes wears crisp suits, blouses and well-tailored trousers whilst keeping her accessories minimal. her navy blue hair is always refined in a sleek, effortless style.

ceo!cait once made sure to complicate her tea order during your first day, fully expecting you to struggle to keep up with her previous strings of assistants who could never quite get it right, only to be inwardly impressed when you return to her office, tea in hand, perfectly replicating her specific preference.

ceo!cait's top priority is to be on time, no matter the given situation. in her mind, being late is inconceivable from her orderly (yet packed) schedule that guides her day.

ceo!cait lets her concern slip through her stoic demeanor when it comes to you. although she tries to maintain a cool exterior, there are moments when she can't help but ask a simple "are you alright?" the moment she notices even the littlest crease of your eyebrows, your shoulders tensing for a short second, or a barely suppressed sigh.

ceo!cait's office isn't as neat as people expect it to be. despite her known reputation for precision and perfection. her private office betrays a certain level of controlled chaos— while it has some semblance of cleanliness and order, with closer inspection, you'd spot a personal touch in the middle of the chaotic mix of neglected papers, dusted leather books, and odd trinkets across her messy desk.

ceo!cait ensures you're doing well in general, in or outside of work. she'd offer you a ride in her luxurious vehicle, or even grant you unexpected day-offs. she swears it's not favoritism nor growing fondness, but her actions implies the opposite, suggesting a deeper level of care.

Caitlyn: Good morning. Look outside your door. Consider it my gratitude for the exceptional work you've been doing. Take this time to relax and recharge.

hurrying to open the door, you find the doorstep of your apartment with a bouquet of flowers, carefully wrapped in a gold, silk ribbon. next to it lies a small, blue velvet box with a piece of paper with her familiar, nearly-unreadable handwriting. you're grateful, but you wonder how she knew your exact apartment coordinates. ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠∵⁠ ⁠)⁠┌

a/n: sneak peek for my ceo!cait x assistant!reader slowburn fic !! i guess.. i js shoved this out of my ass while i work 💔 no idea if it'd even be interesting :P

art creds: rimri4mm

#⠀♡ ˖ 🐇 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛⠀݁#͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏⠀#caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman x female reader #caitlyn x you #caitlyn kiramman x you #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn kiramman #arcane #lesbian #⠀c.k ♥︎୧͘ ࣭ ˖

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ismailfazil1-blog · 10 months ago

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How to Refine Gold with Fire: A Complete Guide to Refining Gold with Fire

Discover the ancient art of gold refining with this comprehensive guide.

"How to Refine Gold with Fire" is your ultimate resource for mastering the traditional method of extracting pure gold from its ore. From understanding the basics of gold chemistry to safely operating specialized equipment, this book provides a step-by-step approach that is accessible to both beginners and experienced hobbyists.

Key features include:

• In-depth explanations: Learn about the historical significance of gold refining, the properties of gold, and the various techniques used throughout the centuries.

• Practical guidance: Explore the essential tools and equipment needed for refining, including crucibles, tongs, and furnaces.

• Safety protocols: Understand the potential risks involved in gold refining and learn how to mitigate them through proper safety measures.

• Detailed instructions: Follow clear, easy-to-understand instructions for refining gold from different sources, such as jewelry, scrap metal, and ore.

• Troubleshooting tips: Discover common problems that may arise during the refining process and learn how to address them effectively.

Whether you're a metal enthusiast, a jeweler, or simply curious about the ancient art of gold smithing, "How to Refine Gold with Fire" is the perfect companion to help you embark on this fascinating journey, and some important information about Refine Gold with Acid has also been provided at the end of the book for the interest of the readers.

#books #science #nature #skill #career #Gold Refining Techniques #Fire-Based Gold Refining #How to Refine Gold #Gold Refining Guide #Gold Purification Methods #Gold Refining Safety #Gold Refining Equipment #Gold Smelting Process #Gold Refining Instructions #Refining Gold with Fire

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kiwriteswords · 7 months ago

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Unveiled

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: This has been on my to-write list forever...hope you guys like it!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 4k

Tags/Warnings: Mild Injury, Mentions of Field Work, Secretive Behavior, Slight Jealousy, Light Swearing, Mentions of Emotional Vulnerability, Secret Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Marriage, Canon-Typical Themes.

Sypnosis: You and Aaron Hotchner have always been experts at keeping work and personal life separate—so much so that the team doesn’t even know you’re together, let alone married. But secrets can only stay hidden for so long, especially when small details start catching everyone’s attention.

The BAU bullpen buzzes with the usual hum of activity. Cases to close, profiles to refine, and endless paperwork to finish. You settle into your desk with a practiced air of nonchalance, tugging the sleeve of your blazer slightly to cover the delicate wedding band now gracing your finger.

The slim band--simple, not flashy, was perfect for both your personality and the line of work you were in. You could count the times on one hand how often JJ had to get her ring fixed or cleaned from the damage being in the field caused. You did not need diamonds or an extravagant engagement or wedding. You had everything and more with the man who had the matching band upstairs.

You glance across the bullpen, up to Aaron’s office. He’s buried in a stack of reports, his expression unreadable, as always. His left hand is occupied with a red pen, and the thin gold band is barely visible but there nonetheless.

Your lips twitch into a subtle smile as you recall the whirlwind of the weekend: the drive to a secluded courthouse, the soft vows spoken just for each other, the quiet, private moment that bound you and Aaron together in a way only you two could understand--with Jack present, of course. Eloping had been a mutual decision, spurred on by years of hiding, countless near-misses at being caught, and the realization that you were done living for anyone but each other.

Ever the lawyer Aaron was and ever the practical woman you were, you knew marriage was essentially just paperwork. Personally, it did mean a lot more to the both of you in terms of commitment, so that’s why you both decided to do it on a whim, to begin with, but there wasn’t a need for the white dress or all the bells and whistles that you both found overkill. The slim gold bands were enough. The vows were enough. The love you shared was more than enough.

Now, the fun part began.

You turn back to your desk, shuffling through files with purpose as the team begins trickling in. The usual morning energy hums around you, but it’s impossible to ignore the slight thrill of knowing what you’re both hiding—and knowing it won’t be hidden for much longer.

“Hey, Y/N!” Penelope’s voice cuts through the air, cheerful as ever. “Doesn’t this day feel extra special for some reason? Like the world’s just radiating good vibes?”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe it’s just you, Penelope. You’re the good vibes.”

She beams, clearly pleased with the answer, before skipping off to annoy Morgan. You catch Aaron’s eye for the briefest second, and the corner of his mouth twitches—a rare, subtle sign of amusement.

The team trickles in gradually. Rossi strolls past your desk, sharp as ever, with his coffee in hand. His sharp eyes flicker to your hand, and he slows just slightly, one eyebrow quirking upward.

“Nice ring, kid,” he says, voice casual but curious. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone serious enough settle down.”

Your breath hitches for a fraction of a second, but you quickly recover, offering him an easy shrug. “I like to keep my private life... private.”

Rossi had been the hardest over the years to keep at bay. Somehow, it became second nature to be so…secluded in your personal life. It wasn’t that you or Aaron were not sharing with the team, but you never felt the reason to shake things up. You, with your budding career, and him, with his reputation as a leader, why change that?

Rossi hums thoughtfully, clearly filing that information away for later. You glance over at Aaron again, his focus still trained on the file in front of him. His poker face is maddeningly perfect, but you know he’s listening intently.

It isn’t too long after that a new case brings you to the round table room. You can’t help but feel that there is still an unspoken buzz in the air. Rossi’s comment made you jumpier than you’d like. Not that you’re hiding anything, but the idea of change…makes you uneasy.

Aaron sits to your right, perfectly composed as always, flipping through the latest case files. His left hand holds a pen, the thin gold band on his ring finger catching the light with every movement. You glance at it, a quiet rush of warmth filling your chest. Your husband. It’s still a surreal thought. You could feel the faintest hint of amusement radiating from him, even if his face betrayed nothing. The quiet thrill of your secret filled the air between you.

You refocus, nodding at something JJ says about an update from the field office, but you can feel Rossi’s eyes on you. He’s seated across the table, his sharp gaze catching every detail. A slow, knowing smile creeps across his face, but he says nothing—yet.

“Anyway,” JJ continues, looking up from her notes, “we’ll need to coordinate with local law enforcement to finalize those interviews.” She glances over, and her eyes snag on your hand mid-gesture. Her words falter for a split second before she quickly recovers. “Morgan, you’ll take the lead.”

Morgan nods, clearly only half-listening. His focus has also shifted—to Aaron, more specifically. His brow furrows as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “Hotch, you got something new going on?” His tone is casual, but his grin betrays his curiosity. “That’s one hell of an accessory you’re sporting.”

Aaron doesn’t miss a beat, his voice calm and measured. “I wasn’t aware my ring warranted commentary, Morgan.”

Morgan smirks, glancing at Rossi. “Oh, come on, man. You walk in here wearing a wedding band out of nowhere? You can’t expect us not to say something.”

Rossi leans forward slightly, his fingers steepled under his chin. “And here I thought I was the only one paying attention,” he says, his voice rich with amusement. “Seems our unit chief had quite the weekend.”

The rest of the team snaps to attention. JJ’s head jerks toward Aaron, her eyes widening as she looks between him and you. Penelope, sitting at the far end of the table, gasps audibly.

“Wait,” Penelope exclaims, her voice rising in pitch. “You’re married now? When did this happen? Who’s the lucky lady? Why wasn’t I invited?”

“I’m not the only one,” Rossi interjects smoothly, his gaze now fixed on you. “Looks like Y/N had a busy weekend, too.” He nods toward your left hand.

You glance at Aaron, a silent exchange passing between you. His lips twitch into the faintest of smiles—so brief it’s almost imperceptible. But you catch it.

Penelope’s sharp intake of breath breaks your focus. “Wait a second,” she says, leaning forward, her gaze darting between you and Aaron. “Y/N, is that... a wedding ring?”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your voice steady as you respond. “What about it?”

Morgan leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and smirking. “Hold up,” he says, nodding toward Aaron’s hand again.

All eyes turn toward Aaron now. He calmly finishes jotting a note before closing the folder in front of him. “Is this relevant to the case?” he asks, his tone perfectly neutral.

Rossi tilts his head, his sharp gaze bouncing between you and Aaron. His lips curl into a knowing smile. “Interesting,” he says slowly, leaning back in his chair. “Very interesting.”

JJ’s brow furrows as she glances between the two of you. Her eyes widen slightly as realization begins to dawn. “No,” she says softly, more to herself than anyone else. Then louder, “Wait a second—are you two—?”

You glance at Aaron, and he gives you the slightest nod. With a small sigh, you lean back in your chair and let the corner of your mouth lift into a smirk. “You really don’t know?” you ask, your voice laced with amusement.

Aaron follows up, his tone carrying a faint edge of dry humor. “I thought you were better profilers than that.”

The room goes completely silent as the pieces click into place. Emily gasps, pointing between you and Aaron. “No. No way. You two? Are you telling me you’re married to each other?”

Morgan bursts out laughing, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “You’re telling me you’ve been dating this whole time, and none of us knew? I don’t believe it. You two are way too good at this.”

Penelope’s jaw drops. “What?! Oh my God, I feel so betrayed! How could you keep this from me? I should’ve been your bridesmaid—or at least in the loop!”

Aaron raises a hand, his calm authority cutting through the chaos in the room. “We made the decision to keep our relationship private to maintain professionalism,” he begins, his tone firm but warm. His eyes sweep the room, landing briefly on each team member before continuing. “This team works best when there are no distractions, and we both agreed that our relationship couldn’t interfere with that.”

He pauses, glancing at you. There’s a moment of silent understanding between you before you speak up, your voice steady but lighter than his. “It wasn’t about hiding, exactly. It was about making sure we stayed focused on the work that matters. But,” you add with a small, wry smile, “we eventually realized we didn’t need to keep it a secret anymore.”

Aaron picks up where you leave off, his tone softening slightly. “Especially now that we’re married,” he says, letting the weight of the words settle over the room. “We didn’t make this decision lightly, and we both value the integrity of this team above all else. That hasn’t changed, and it won’t.”

The room falls quiet again, the team absorbing the revelation. You can see the wheels turning in their minds as they piece together the years of subtle interactions, quiet glances, and the seamless way you and Aaron have worked together all this time.

JJ breaks the silence first, her expression shifting from shock to a warm smile. “Well,” she says softly, “congratulations. You both deserve to be happy.”

Morgan leans forward, his grin widening. “Alright, I’ll give you two credit—this is the best-kept secret I’ve seen in a long time. But man, Hotch, you’ve got some explaining to do. Married? Without us knowing? I’m hurt.”

Rossi chuckles, shaking his head. “I should’ve seen it sooner,” he says, his tone amused but approving. “Still, I can’t say I’m surprised. You two make sense.”

Reid almost looks relieved, “I thought I was the only one who didn’t pick up on things like this.”

Penelope is the last to recover, her hands flying to her cheeks. “Oh my gosh! This is so romantic!” She gestures wildly between you and Aaron. “Secret agents in love, sneaking off to get married—it’s like a spy movie! Please tell me there are pictures. I need pictures. And cake! Why isn’t there cake?”

You laugh, finally letting yourself relax a little as you glance at Aaron. He gives you a small, almost imperceptible smile—one the others might miss, but you recognize instantly. Beneath the table, his pinky brushes against yours, a subtle reminder that you’re in this together.

“Alright,” Aaron says, his commanding tone bringing the room back into focus. “We still have work to do, and I expect everyone to stay focused on the case.”

Morgan leans back in his chair, still grinning. “Yeah, yeah, boss. But this conversation isn’t over.”

Rossi smirks. “Don’t worry, Derek. Something tells me there’s more to this story, and we’ll get the details eventually.”

You exchange a knowing glance with Aaron as the team begins to settle down, still buzzing with excitement. It’s out in the open now—no more hiding, no more secrets. Just you, Aaron, and the life you’ve quietly built together finally shared with the people who matter most.

The case wraps up after a grueling few days. The unsub is in custody, and while the tension of the investigation still lingers, the mood on the jet back home is noticeably lighter. The team is scattered around the cabin—Morgan and Rossi are in their usual seats, discussing the finer points of profiling techniques, while Spencer is engrossed in a book.

You find yourself seated with JJ and Emily at the small table near the galley. Emily is flipping through a magazine, and JJ is scrolling on her phone, but their attention shifts to you when you pull out your phone and casually unlock it.

“You know,” you say, leaning back in your chair with a small grin, “since you all feel so left out, I figured I’d show you some photos from the elopement.”

Emily’s eyes snap up from her magazine, and JJ’s face lights up with interest. “Finally!” Emily exclaims, leaning in. “I thought you were going to make us beg.”

JJ nudges your arm. “I’ve been dying to see these. Penelope’s already planning a post-wedding celebration for you two.”

You chuckle and swipe to the photo album. The first image you show is a candid one—a shot of you and Aaron outside the courthouse, his hand resting gently on your back, both of you mid-laugh. JJ lets out a soft “Aww,” and Emily whistles low under her breath.

“Look at you two,” Emily says, her tone teasing but fond. “Who knew Hotch could look so... human?”

You laugh, swiping to the next picture, a close-up of your intertwined hands with your wedding bands gleaming in the sunlight. “He’s full of surprises,” you quip.

As you share a few more photos, some with Jack, some Jack actually took of you and Aaron.

Aaron walks by, a cup of coffee in hand. He pauses when he notices the three of you huddled around your phone. “Are you showing them the photos?” he asks, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity.

“Of course,” you reply, looking up at him with a playful grin. “They demanded proof.”

Aaron hums thoughtfully, his gaze softening as he leans slightly over the table. “You should show them the photo from last year. The one from the Amalfi Coast.” There’s an amused glint in Aaron’s eye’s that makes you want to roll your own, but you satisfy everyone anyway.

JJ blinks, looking between the two of you. “Wait. The Amalfi Coast? Together?”

Emily narrows her eyes, clearly piecing something together. “Hold on. Didn’t you both take time off around the same time last summer?”

Before you can answer, Reid speaks up from his seat across the cabin, his voice laced with disbelief. “You mean the trip to Italy? I remember you both mentioned visiting Italy, but I never connected the dots that you were there together.”

Morgan, catching the tail end of the conversation, leans over the back of his seat. “Hold up—that’s what you were doing last year? You two were off in Italy, sipping wine and living the good life, and we had no idea?”

Rossi chuckles from across the cabin, shaking his head. “It’s impressive, really. I mean, a courthouse wedding is one thing, but hiding a vacation together? That’s next-level stealth.”

Emily laughs, gesturing toward your phone. “Alright, show us this Amalfi Coast picture. I need to see the evidence.”

With a shake of your head, you scroll back to the album from the trip. You find the photo Aaron mentioned—a picture of the two of you standing on a sunlit terrace overlooking the ocean, the breeze catching your hair while Aaron stands beside you, looking uncharacteristically relaxed in a linen shirt. You hand the phone over, and JJ and Emily lean in closer.

“This is so unfair,” JJ says, shaking her head with a smile. “You two look like you walked out of a travel magazine.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe we didn’t put this together sooner,” Emily adds, smirking. “I mean, Hotch in a linen shirt? That should’ve been the giveaway.”

Aaron shakes his head with a faint chuckle, taking a sip of his coffee. “I told you we were better at keeping secrets than they gave us credit for.”

You grin, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Well, now you all know. Mystery solved.”

Reid looks up from his book, still shaking his head. “I feel like I should’ve noticed. The behavioral cues were there...”

Morgan snorts. “Don’t beat yourself up, kid. They had us all fooled.”

JJ hands your phone back, smiling warmly. “Well, for the record, I’m glad we know now. You two really are perfect together.”

Aaron catches your eye from where he’s standing, his expression soft but steady. It’s a look that speaks volumes, and you know you’ll both carry this moment—this quiet joy of finally being yourselves with your team—for a long time.

As the jet hums softly beneath you, you settle into the warmth of the conversation, knowing that the life you’ve built with Aaron is now shared with the people who matter most.

When the jet touches down, and the team unloads into the bullpen, you barely have time to gather your things before Penelope corners you and Aaron. She’s been dropping comments all case long—about needing details, demanding photos, and lamenting her exclusion from what she’s now referring to as The Most Romantic Secret Ever Kept—but this time, there’s no escape.

“Alright, you two!” Penelope exclaims, her hands on her hips as she plants herself in front of you both. Her eyes sparkle with determination. “I’ve been patient. I’ve waited through an entire case, and now you owe me. Spill it. All of it. When, where, how? I need the full story.”

Aaron glances at you, his lips twitching in faint amusement. “I told you this would happen,” he murmurs under his breath.

You chuckle softly and look at Penelope. “Fine,” you say, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “We’ll tell you—briefly.”

Penelope’s expression brightens instantly. “Finally!” she squeals, clapping her hands together. “Okay, start from the beginning.”

Aaron crosses his arms, his authoritative posture intact but his tone softer than usual. “It started a few years ago,” he begins, glancing at you. “Not long after you joined the team.”

You nod, picking up the thread. “It wasn’t planned. We just... clicked. We kept things professional at first, but over time, it became harder to ignore. Eventually, we decided it was worth exploring, but we agreed to keep it private.”

Penelope’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Years? You mean to tell me you’ve been dating for years, and I had no idea?”

Aaron tilts his head slightly. “We were careful,” he says simply. “We didn’t want our relationship to interfere with the team dynamic or the work we do.”

“And we didn’t think anyone would benefit from knowing,” you add. “It was easier to keep it between us.”

“But how?” Penelope presses, leaning closer. “I mean, we’re profilers! How did you manage to keep it under wraps?”

You exchange a knowing look with Aaron before answering. “We’ve always been good at separating our personal and professional lives,” you say. “At work, we focused on the cases. Outside of work... we had each other.”

Aaron nods. “We were deliberate about our interactions here, and we made sure not to let anything slip.”

Penelope looks genuinely impressed, though she’s clearly not done grilling you. “So, no one ever suspected? Not even Rossi?”

You laugh. “Oh, Rossi definitely had his suspicions,” you admit. “But he never said anything outright.”

Aaron smirks faintly. “I think he enjoyed watching the rest of you try to figure it out.”

Penelope groans dramatically, throwing her hands in the air. “I can’t believe this. You two are like... spy-level secretive. I don’t know whether to be mad at you or impressed.”

“Be impressed,” you say with a grin. “It’s less stressful.”

Penelope narrows her eyes at both of you, then sighs. “Fine. But only because you’re ridiculously adorable together. And because I’m still planning a post-wedding party. You’re not getting out of that.”

Aaron shakes his head with a faint smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With that, Penelope finally relents, though she shoots you both one last look that clearly says she’s not done asking questions. As she flounces off to her office, you exhale a soft laugh, turning to Aaron.

“Well,” you say lightly, “that went better than I expected.”

Aaron’s gaze softens, and he leans in slightly, his voice low. “She’ll be back.”

You laugh, shaking your head as the two of you head toward your offices. It’s out in the open now—your story, your love, your life together. And though you’ve enjoyed the secrecy, there’s something freeing about finally being able to share it with your team.

After a long day and an even longer week, the bullpen finally clears out. The soft hum of computers and the faint buzz of the overhead lights are the only sounds left as you and Aaron prepare to leave. You gather your things, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as he approaches with his jacket draped over his arm.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice low and steady.

You nod, falling into step beside him as the two of you head toward the elevator. There’s an unspoken ease between you; the weight of secrecy finally lifted. When the elevator doors close, Aaron glances at you, his lips quirking into the faintest smirk.

“You know,” he says, his tone laced with quiet humor, “we don’t have to stagger our exits anymore.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “No more waiting ten minutes so no one sees us leaving together?”

“Or arriving,” he adds. “No more separate cars or pretending to run into each other in the parking lot. We’ve been doing that for years. I think it’s become muscle memory.”

The thought makes you smile as the elevator dings, and you step out into the cool night air. You walk together to the car, and the rhythmic click of your shoes is the only sound. When you slide into the passenger seat, and Aaron starts the engine, the hum of the car fills the silence.

As he pulls onto the road, you glance over at him, the city lights casting fleeting shadows across his face. “Do you ever think about all the close calls?” you ask, your voice quiet but teasing.

Aaron’s lips twitch in amusement. “All the time. Like that day you got hurt in the field.”

You know exactly which day he means. It’s burned into your memory as much as his. “You mean when I dislocated my shoulder chasing that suspect?”

He nods, his tone softening. “I remember standing over you, trying to keep it together while the EMTs worked. I wanted to pick you up and carry you to the ambulance myself, but I couldn’t. All I could do was stay professional and keep my voice steady.”

You smile faintly, your heart tightening at the memory. “I remember how calm you sounded, even though I could see it in your eyes. You hated every second of it.”

Aaron glances at you briefly, his eyes filled with something deeper. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Morgan even asked me later why I seemed so shaken. I had to play it off as just another day in the field.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Well, you were convincing enough. I think I was more worried about you slipping than about my shoulder.”

He lets out a low chuckle, his focus on the road. “That wasn’t the only close call. Remember Kansas City? The hotel?”

“Oh God,” you groan, covering your face with one hand. “I thought for sure Morgan would figure it out. He knocked on my door right after you left.”

Aaron smirks, glancing at you briefly. “What did you tell him?”

“I said I was up late working on the profile,” you reply, grinning. “Which wasn’t a lie, technically. I just left out the part where you were with me.”

Aaron shakes his head, amusement glinting in his dark eyes. “How about all the times we shared a room and no one noticed?”

You laugh, sinking back into your seat. “That was a miracle. Every single time. Can you imagine if anyone went looking for you in your empty room?”

“Or walked past at the wrong moment,” Aaron adds, his voice tinged with humor. “I can’t believe we managed to pull that off.”

You grin at him, your tone teasing. “We probably wasted so much of the Bureau’s money on extra rooms we didn’t need.”

His lips twitch into a smirk. “I think we’ve earned it, considering the hours we’ve put in.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Still, we were playing with fire. Like that time Rossi knocked on your door in Denver. I thought for sure he’d notice something.”

Aaron chuckles, his tone more amused now. “Rossi always noticed. He just didn’t say anything.”

“Probably because he enjoyed watching everyone else flounder,” you reply with a grin. “He was always a little too smug.”

The car falls into a comfortable silence as the memories wash over you both—the near-misses, the stolen moments, the countless times you had to act like nothing more than colleagues. Now, with the secrecy behind you, the memories feel more like a badge of honor than a burden.

Aaron pulls into the driveway, turning off the engine before glancing at you. His expression is soft, his voice quieter now. “No more sneaking around,” he says. “No more separate cars or extra rooms.”

You smile, reaching for his hand. “Just us.”

The two of you walk inside, your home warm and inviting as you settle in for the night. The conversation drifts back to the little things you had to do to keep your relationship under wraps—the cover stories, the excuses, the times you almost slipped. But the laughter and warmth you share now make it all worth it.

As the night deepens, you both revel in the freedom of no longer having to hide. It’s just you and Aaron, building the life you’ve always wanted… with Jack—together, out in the open, and exactly as it should be.

Tag List:

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@khxna

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@sleepysongbirdsings

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch x you #hotch x reader #kiwriteswords #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine

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icanseethefuture333 · 11 months ago

Text

How to gain followers as an influencer according to your Midheaven

Aries MC:

These influencers are blunt and say whatever that comes to mind. They have a confident aura to themselves and a lot of people gravitate towards them because of how infectious their personality is. Aries MC as influencers are competitive, bold, and outgoing. They also can have a cute and bubbly nature due to Aries being the youngest of the zodiac signs. In order to gain followers or success an influencer - speak your mind. Post pictures of yourself in the gym, dancing, or playing sports, Aries are known for their athleticism and people admire the amount of energy they possess. Aries MC do best in their career as an influencer when they are energetic and thriving in life. Their following might go down if they talk about losing or show a significant change of attitude in their content such as accepting defeat. Fans can emphasize with them if they open up about trauma and abuse.

Loren Gray’s most viral video is when she transitioned from blonde to brown hair. Making bold choices such as a change in hair color, makeup, or fashion style will attract more attention.

(Ex: Tana Mongeau, Loren Gray, Lisa)

Taurus MC:

The misconception of Taurus MCs is that they are always perceived as classy or being “refined” in their aesthetic. When the most famous Taurus MCs influencers are the exact opposite. They have this “untouchable” essence to them (“Yo voy voy voy”). Like those cool girls you pass by in the mall and never see again. They live a life of fun and luxury, their stories you always want to tune in because they’re always doing something interesting. Taurus MCs need to give little by little, share your interests while also keep an air of mystery to yourself. They are the life of the party and you can often see them enjoying good food, alcohol, and/or on vacation. Taurus MCs can pull off slick buns, gold hoops, glossy lips, and tight clothing like no other as well. Unless they are showing off their riches and bragging, people will get bored of them. They don’t want someone they can relate to, so these people often get put on a pedestal or people look up to them for motivation. Most likely to be the ones on somebody's vision board. People are turned off when they display arrogance and envy out of insecurity.

Alex Consani’s most viral video of her is at a fancy restaurant singing “Lifestyle” by Young Thug.

(Ex: Alex Consani, Alexa Demie, Selena Gomez)

Gemini MC:

These girlies are some chatterboxes. They are similar to Aries MCs in a way when it comes to saying whatever they want but what they say often… doesn’t make sense but also totally makes sense, yk? The girls that get it, get it, and the girls that don’t, don’t! Queens/kings of musically fr. Gemini MCs are good at being animated and cunning when creating content. They act really ditsy and lost but they are secretly very intelligent. To gain followers, just be WEIRD, but not weird as in it being forced to be unique and different. I mean weird as just being yourself - unfiltered. Imagine yourself at 10 years old and how annoying but funny they were then letting it out as an adult now that you have control of your life. Give your inner child that space to be creative and humorous without overthinking.

Trisha Paytas being a Gemini MC in her most viral videos. That is all.

(Ex: Trisha Paytas, Liza Koshy, Bella Hadid)

Cancer MC:

Ahh Cancer MCs, they just give mother, ykwim? Something about them is just so feminine and nurturing. If they are young in age, people are drawn to their girl/boy next door vibes. They often fit the beauty standard and are praised for their youthful features. They are way over romanticized sometimes and people have an unhealthy obsession with them. People often see Cancer MCs as overrated but honestly who cares? You are capable of gaining followers by making content with family members, at home, or honestly doing the bare minimum (this placement doesn’t require much effort).

Ari Fletcher is famous for being the girlfriend of rapper G Herbo and mother of their son, Yosohn, she often posts videos of her and their son together.

(Ex: Charli D’amelio, Ari Fletcher, Zoë Kravitz)

Leo MC:

Divaaaas. Leo MCs just give celebrity through and through. They are probably some of the youngest influencers out there. These are the people who were in their bathroom making YouTube videos at 11 and getting over millions of views just for talking about their day at school. They could talk a lot of shit and people would just tune in for the gossip. They are hilarious and entertaining to watch. Always hated but could never be imitated. They are just that it girl/boy. Leo MCs gain attention for their voluminous hair, balanced features, and radiant style. The more they shine, the better. These people gain followers when they look the most glamorous and behave unapologetically themselves. Fun to hear them talk while drunk too. Might have to make a few apologies throughout their career but their fans are loyal and would never turn their back on them lol. “They could never make me hate you ahhh��”. Leo MCs live by the saying “only god could cancel me”, the feline that got 9 lives. Haters would even miss them if they died.

Bretman Rock’s viral contour video that’s … dare I say chaotic.

(Ex: Justine Skye, Bretman Rock, Doja Cat)

Virgo MC:

True natural beauty. These people probably started the “clean girl” trend, they are so effortlessly perfect at everything they do. Top student of their class, successful in their career, etc. You name it. Virgo MCs are admired for their good reputation and clean image (or in another case, when their reputation goes to shit, they can salvage it by being clever and profiting it off themselves. Kim Kardashian became famous for being in a sex tape and ever since then she’s been one of the biggest influencers in the entertainment industry). They gain followers for posting content of their everyday routine, cleaning habits, and comfortable but stylish wardrobe. These people lose attention when they are looking messy and dirty. Sometimes engaging in reckless behavior and not always being the “perfect” girl people perceive them as can gain attention - good or bad. These people may have a harder time keeping up with the standards people enforce onto them and often face criticism more than others which could impact their mental as well as physical health.

(Ex: Yara Shahidi, Hailey Baldwin Bieber, Maya Jama)

Libra MC:

The ultimate beauty gurus omg! These are the best people to receive beauty tips from. Unfortunately, people could never look as pretty as them but they could at least learn tips that would help them enhance their appearance with makeup, skincare, etc. Libra MCs are the embodiment of beauty and style, they make the perfect influencers and a lot of them are very popular on social media. They know how to balance humor while being serious when giving advice, giving off big sister/brother vibes. The beauty standards they present could be unattainable, so they could receive both love and hate from others because they are not able to replicate them. These influencers are the type to set trends such as “#wonyoungism” and what not. Wearing pink, using your artistic skills, and being an advocate for a cause you care about could attract more followers.

Jenna Marbles most famous video is ironically about “how to trick people into thinking you’re good looking”.

(Ex: Jenna Marbles, Kylie Jenner, Michelle Phan)

Scorpio MC:

Sexy spooky gals. Scorpio MCs possess a beauty that is haunting to the mind, they are the bad girls/boys. They are daring by nature and their quirky personalities contrast with their sensual appearance. These placements could be former porn stars or be very popular on onlyfans (*cough cough* Mia Khalifa). They are often involved in scandals, dating rumors, and people view them as dramatic. Indulge in people’s fantasies and feed into others illusions. Emphasize your eyes by doing a smoker eyeliner look, contour your cheeks, and wearing a nude lip is a signature look for the Scorpio MCs. Wearing leather, revealing, or stripper type clothing and having tattoos is part of their grand appeal as well. Entertain your fans by engaging in harmless flirting and venting about your emotions.

Quenlin has been gaining popularity recently for being involved in a dating rumor that her, Billie Ellish, and Odessa are in a throuple after making a video together.

(Ex: Emma Chamberlain, Quenlin Blackwell, India Love)

Sagittarius MC:

The one everyone wishes to find. These people become the most searched in a matter of seconds. Everyone wants to know who they are, what’s their name, and where are they from. Sagittarius MCs could be praised for their “exotic” look or extravagant style. Wear clothing and jewelry from foreign countries, these people have to give off the vibe they just came back from vacation. They are often seen sporting tans and look good in “airport fashion". To gain followers, post content of videos of yourself talking in the car, traveling, going to the airport, being on vacation, driving to your favorite places, and/or speaking in foreign languages. Sagittarius MCs become famous “unintentionally” and they experience a lot of luck and success within their career. Being too stagnant could harm their success.

Cindy Kimberly went viral after Justin Bieber posted her on his instagram asking people who she was.

(Ex: Cindy Kimberly, Khloe Kardashian, Jenna Ortega)

Capricorn MC:

These mfers are always mewing. Patrick Bateman core. These are the business moguls, supermodels, and professional gamers. They are competitive and efficient when it comes to their work. They look great in black and have noticeable tattoos. Similar to Scorpio MCs with having a baddie image but instead of being just “bad”, they give off mafia vibes. The sexy super villain that’s hard to resist and secretly rooting for. People want to know how much money they make and what they did to achieve being rich (“sprinkle sprinkle”). Capricorn MCs are appreciated for their dedication and hard work. People admire them most when they talk about their struggles and how they overcame obstacles to become successful. Although, if they are someone who benefits from nepotism, people could really despise them. Be the unbothered queen/king you’re meant to be and invest in yourself, remember your time and energy is valuable.

Rihanna’s most viral video is of her saying “she could beat me but she could not beat my outfit” during a speech.

(Ex: Vinnie Hacker, Rihanna, Kendall Jenner)

Aquarius MC:

The definition of social media stars. These are the innovators and trend starters. They are the reason influencers are so big now on the internet. Aquarius MCs gain popularity for their unique perspective and usage of technology (cameras, editing content, etc). They could post about tech, talking about interests from their fandom, doing Q&As, and having a close relationship with their fans. People admire how friendly and down to earth they are. Aquarius MCs lose followers when they are cold and distant. These people could wear just about anything but look best in a hoodie, sunglasses, and jeans. They are oh so casual chic.

Madison Beer went viral in her cover of Etta James when she was only 13, she showed gratitude to her fans in the comment section and was praised by Justin Bieber as well.

(Ex: Madison Beer, Jackie Aina, Dixie D’amelio)

Pisces MC:

These people just spawned into existence. They are otherworldly in terms of appearance. Pisces MCs are quite strange when it comes to how they express themselves and people who are often misunderstood find comfort in these public figures. As influencers, their style has spiritual or mystical elements. They look like a fantasy character come to life and their makeup style can be quite bizarre. These people lose followers when they try to fit in and dim their light. They make a positive impact on others when they talk about acceptance and self love. Pisces MCs’ sexuality could be a hot topic as well and they might be very progressive with their views. These people could be psychic and are very intuitive in terms of the future.

Julia Fox’s most popular video is about how her son was born the same day her best friend who died (she also talked about how she came to her in a dream to tell her she was having a boy!)

(Ex: Julia Fox, Addison Rae, James Charles)

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anticipatedexhale · 5 months ago

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Arcane women and promise rings? Like reader hand makes it out of whatever they got and gives it to the girls and how they would react

hihiii this is suchhh a cute idea omgg.

How romantic you made them a promise ring!.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨୧

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, mel, sevika, jinx, ambessa, vi.

☆ ◞ summary: you swoon them over with a hand made promise ring!

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader.flufff!!

Mel Medarda.

The evening was painted in gold, the last rays of the sun filtering through the grand windows of Mel’s private chambers. The room was as lavish as ever—fine silk curtains, elegant sculptures, and artwork that spoke of power and refinement. But despite the luxury surrounding her, Mel sat in quiet contemplation by the balcony, a glass of wine resting idly in her hand.

She had been deep in thought all day, her mind burdened with the endless political games of Piltover’s elite. Her expression, normally poised and unreadable, was slightly softer now, the weight of it all evident in her tired posture.

That’s when you approached, your hands nervously clutching a small box.

You had spent weeks working on this. It wasn’t extravagant like the jewelry Mel was used to—it wasn’t encrusted with rare gems or crafted by Piltover’s finest artisans. But it was yours. Every twist of metal, every etched detail, every imperfection… it was made with your own hands.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer, your voice gentle. “Mel?”

She turned to you, her golden eyes flickering with curiosity at your tone. A small smile played at her lips, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes yet. “Hmm? What is it, darling?”

You hesitated for a moment before holding out the box. “I… made you something.”

Mel raised a delicate brow, setting her glass down before reaching for the small package. Her fingers, always graceful, carefully undid the ribbon before opening it.

Inside, the promise ring gleamed in the dim light.

It was simple, yet undeniably thoughtful—crafted with an elegant design that suited her perfectly. You had carefully engraved a small pattern along the inside, a design inspired by the murals of Noxus, a quiet nod to her past.

Mel was silent.

For the first time in a long while, she seemed stunned.

You watched as she lifted the ring between her fingers, studying it with an unreadable expression. Your heart pounded in your chest—was it too simple? Too unrefined? Was this a mistake?

Then, she spoke—her voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“You… made this?”

You nodded, suddenly feeling nervous under her intense gaze. “Yeah. I know it’s not the kind of jewelry you usually wear, but I wanted it to be something personal. Something that… means something.” You swallowed. “It’s a promise. That no matter where you go, no matter what happens, I’ll be here. With you.”

Mel’s lips parted slightly, her fingers tightening around the ring as if it were something fragile, something precious. Slowly, she looked up at you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, her carefully guarded walls slipped—just a little.

She didn’t say anything at first. Instead, she reached for your hand, her touch impossibly gentle as she slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

For a long moment, she simply stared at it, as if memorizing the feel of it against her skin. Then, a slow, genuine smile spread across her lips.

“You are full of surprises,” she murmured, her voice laced with something deep, something warm.

Before you could respond, she pulled you into her arms, her embrace soft yet firm, like she never wanted to let go. Her fingers traced gentle patterns along your back as she whispered, “I’ll hold you to that promise, you know.”

There was something vulnerable in her tone—something rare.

You smiled against her shoulder, your arms tightening around her. “Good. Because I meant every word.”

Mel pulled back slightly, just enough to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, her golden eyes filled with something unreadable, something dangerously close to love.

She lifted her hand again, admiring the ring once more, before glancing at you with a smirk. “You do realize this means I’ll have to outdo you, right?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

And for the rest of the night, Mel kept glancing at the ring, her fingers brushing over it absentmindedly—proof that, for once, someone had given her something real. Something that wasn’t about politics, power, or war.

Something that was simply you.

------------------------------------------------

Caitlyn kiramman.

Piltover’s skyline stretched endlessly beyond Caitlyn’s balcony, the city lights flickering like stars against the deep blue of the evening sky. The cool air carried the faint scent of rain, and somewhere in the distance, the muffled sounds of the city continued as always—never truly sleeping, never truly silent.

Caitlyn had just returned home from an exhausting day. The precinct had been chaos, the kind of day where nothing seemed to go right—criminals slipping through the cracks, paperwork stacking higher than she could manage, and politics interfering with justice. It was enough to make her sigh the moment she stepped through the door, peeling off her coat and running a hand through her hair.

That’s when she noticed you.

You were standing near her desk, looking slightly nervous, a small box clutched between your fingers.

She raised a brow, immediately sensing that something was up. “You look suspicious,” she teased, a tired but genuine smile tugging at her lips as she stepped closer.

You chuckled, shifting on your feet. “Suspicious? I thought I looked charming.”

Caitlyn smirked, placing a hand on her hip. “That remains to be seen. What are you hiding?”

You hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and holding the box out to her. “I, um… made you something.”

The amusement in Caitlyn’s eyes softened into curiosity as she carefully took the box from your hands. Her fingers brushed against yours for a brief second—a small, familiar touch that made your heartbeat quicken.

Slowly, she opened it.

Inside sat a promise ring, simple yet carefully crafted. The band was sturdy but elegant, made to withstand her fast-paced life as an Enforcer. You had taken extra care to engrave a delicate design on the inside—tiny, interwoven lines that resembled a winding path, symbolizing the journeys you’d take together.

Caitlyn’s breath hitched slightly.

She wasn’t the type to be rendered speechless often, but as she held the ring between her fingers, her usual sharp wit faltered.

“You… made this?” she finally asked, her voice softer than before.

You nodded, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. “Yeah. I know it’s not as fancy as the jewelry you probably grew up with, but—”

Caitlyn cut you off with a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she turned the ring in her palm. “Are you joking? This is perfect.”

You blinked. “It is?”

She glanced up at you then, her deep blue eyes filled with something warm—something unguarded. “Of course, it is. You made it. That alone makes it better than anything I could buy.”

She slipped the ring onto her finger, admiring how it fit. It wasn’t extravagant, it wasn’t something that screamed wealth or status, but it was hers. And more importantly, it was from you.

For a moment, Caitlyn just stared at it, an unreadable expression flickering across her face.

Then, without warning, she stepped forward and pulled you into a firm, heartfelt embrace. Her arms wrapped tightly around you, her body pressing into yours as she buried her face against your shoulder.

You felt her exhale deeply, as if letting go of all the stress from earlier, letting herself breathe for the first time all day.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice just above a whisper. “I don’t think you realize how much this means to me.”

You smiled, your arms tightening around her. “I just wanted you to have something real. Something that’s ours.”

She pulled back slightly, her hands still resting against your waist as she studied your face, her expression softer than you had ever seen it. “It is. And I promise, I’ll wear it every single day.”

Caitlyn was a woman of her word.

And as she laced her fingers with yours, her thumb brushing absentmindedly over your knuckles, you knew—without a doubt—that she meant it.

------------------------------------------------

Ambessa.

The Noxian war tent was quiet—an unusual thing, given that it was usually filled with the sharp clatter of weapons, the deep hum of strategy meetings, or the bold laughter of hardened soldiers. But now, there was only the flickering of torchlight and the steady sound of Ambessa sharpening her blade, the steel whispering against the whetstone.

She sat at the large war table, maps and battle plans sprawled out before her. She was always planning, always calculating her next move—such was the way of a general who had built an empire with her own hands.

But tonight, you had something else planned.

You took a slow breath before stepping forward, setting a small metal band beside her weapon. The contrast was almost comical—her massive sword, engraved with the blood of history, and the simple ring you had crafted with your own hands.

Ambessa glanced at it, then at you, arching a brow. “What’s this?”

You crossed your arms, suddenly feeling a little ridiculous. “A ring.”

She let out a low, amused chuckle. “I can see that. But why are you giving it to me?”

You shifted, feeling the warmth of the fire behind you. “It’s a promise ring. I made it.”

That got her attention. Ambessa stopped sharpening her blade, setting it aside before picking up the ring with the same hands that had conquered nations. It looked small between her fingers, delicate compared to the war-forged armor she wore.

“You made this?” Her voice was quieter now, but no less commanding.

You nodded. “I figured… you have a lot of power. A lot of people swear loyalty to you, but it’s always tied to war, to politics. I wanted to give you something different. Something that isn’t about conquest.”

Ambessa was silent for a long moment, turning the ring over in her fingers, examining every imperfect groove and scratch. You had worked hard on it, even consulting a blacksmith to make sure it was strong—strong enough to survive even her.

When she finally looked back at you, her expression was unreadable, but there was something there—something soft.

“You know, in Noxus, promises are not made lightly,” she murmured, slipping the ring onto her finger. It wasn’t ornate, but it fit well enough, and she seemed to appreciate the weight of it. “They are binding. A vow, once given, is expected to be upheld—no matter the cost.”

You swallowed. “I know.”

Ambessa tilted her head, watching you with sharp, knowing eyes. Then, with a slow smirk, she leaned forward, her presence commanding even in the quiet. “Then tell me—what exactly are you promising, little one?”

You held her gaze, steady despite the way she had a way of making people feel small in her presence. “That no matter what battles you fight, no matter how much the world sees you as just a warrior, you won’t have to carry everything alone. That someone will always be here… not because they have to, but because they choose to.”

Something flickered in her golden eyes—something rare.

Then, to your surprise, she let out a deep, satisfied chuckle. “Hah. You truly are foolish.”

You blinked. “Uh—”

Before you could react, Ambessa reached out, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting your face up toward hers. There was no mocking in her expression, no condescension—only something heavy, something real.

“But I suppose,” she murmured, glancing down at the ring once more, “even a fool can make something worthy of keeping.”

And with that, she pulled you into a firm, unshakable embrace, as if sealing the promise herself.

------------------------------------------------

Vi.

The night was quiet—rare for Zaun. Usually, the city never slept, filled with the distant clang of machinery, the hum of shimmer deals happening in dark alleys, and the occasional brawl breaking out in the slums. But for once, things were still. Peaceful.

Vi sat on the rooftop of your shared hideout, leaning back on her hands, legs stretched out as she watched the neon lights flicker in the distance. She had been quiet all night, which was unlike her. No teasing, no playful jabs—just a sort of tired stillness that weighed on her shoulders.

You knew why. She’d been out all day handling trouble—some gang fight that nearly turned ugly, a reminder that no matter how much she wanted to change things, Zaun always found a way to pull her back into its chaos.

That’s why you were here. That’s why the small, handmade ring in your pocket felt heavier than it should.

You took a deep breath and sat beside her, nudging her shoulder lightly. “You good?”

Vi blinked, then turned her head toward you with a lopsided smirk—one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

You hummed, pretending to be casual as you pulled something from your pocket. “Well… maybe this’ll help.”

Vi glanced at your closed fist, curiosity flickering in her tired pink eyes. “What, you finally got me a golden tooth so I can match Sevika?”

You snorted. “No, but I did make you something.”

With that, you opened your hand, revealing a simple metal ring. It wasn’t flashy—not polished like something you’d find in Piltover, not encrusted with gems. But it was solid, sturdy, and built to last. Just like her.

Vi blinked, completely caught off guard. “Wait… you made this?”

You rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah. Took me a while, but I figured… I dunno, you always put yourself in the middle of fights, always taking hits for other people. Thought maybe you deserved something that’s just… for you.”

For once, Vi was speechless.

She picked up the ring, turning it over in her calloused fingers, tracing the rough edges. She wasn’t the type to get sentimental over gifts, but this—this was different. This wasn’t some expensive piece of jewelry from Piltover, wasn’t something someone threw money at to impress her.

This was you.

After a long moment, she exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. “You really went and made me a promise ring, huh?”

You nudged her with your elbow, suddenly nervous. “Shut up. It’s not dumb, okay?”

Vi grinned, but there was something soft in her expression—something rare. “Nah, it’s not dumb. Just didn’t think anyone would… y’know. Do something like this for me.”

She slipped the ring onto her finger, flexing her hand as if testing how it felt. It wasn’t perfect, wasn’t smooth, but that didn’t matter. It was real.

And then, without warning, she leaned over and pressed a firm kiss against your temple. Not rushed, not teasing—just solid, grounding.

“Guess that means I gotta keep my promise too, huh?” she murmured.

You tilted your head. “And what exactly are you promising?”

Vi grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against her side. “To keep you safe, dumbass. And maybe—just maybe—get us out of this city one day. Just you and me.”

And as the neon lights flickered in the distance, she twisted the ring around her finger, a silent reminder that, for once in her life, she had something worth staying for.

------------------------------------------------

Jinx.

Finding Jinx was never easy.

She was like a ghost—always slipping in and out of the shadows, disappearing for days, only to reappear like nothing happened, a manic grin on her face and a new stash of explosives in her arms. But you knew her better than most. Knew that beneath all the chaos, all the unpredictability, there was still a girl who needed something—someone—to come back to.

That’s why you were here now, weaving through the abandoned warehouse she had claimed as her latest hideout, the dim glow of neon lights casting eerie shadows across the walls.

You spotted her up ahead, sitting cross-legged on the floor, fiddling with one of her gadgets. She was humming to herself, lost in her own world, before her head snapped up at the sound of your footsteps.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up," she drawled, spinning a wrench in her hands before tossing it over her shoulder with a clatter. "Did ya miss me?"

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer. "You’ve been gone for three days, Jinx."

She grinned, unbothered. "Aww, you keepin’ track? Cute."

You sighed, shaking your head. No matter how much she deflected with jokes, with teasing, you could see the exhaustion creeping at the edges of her expression. The kind of exhaustion that came from running too long, from never stopping.

"Here," you said, pulling something from your pocket. "I, uh… made you something."

Jinx’s blue eyes flickered with curiosity as you dropped a small, handmade ring into her palm. It was rough, slightly uneven, made from repurposed metal scraps you had carefully bent and shaped into something hers.

She blinked, tilting her head. "What, a ring? What, you proposin’ to me now?"

You chuckled. "It’s a promise ring, Jinx. Not a wedding band."

She held it up to the dim light, watching it glint as she twirled it between her fingers. "Hmm… so what's the promise?"

You swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous. Jinx wasn’t like other people—she didn’t trust easily, didn’t believe in things the way most did. But you had to try.

"That I’m not going anywhere," you said softly. "No matter how far you run, no matter what happens… I’ll always be here."

Jinx went still.

The air between you felt heavier, the usual playfulness in her expression faltering for just a second. She stared at the ring, then at you, something flickering in her eyes—something unsure, something vulnerable.

"That’s a pretty big promise," she muttered, voice quieter now.

You nodded. "Yeah. But it’s one I plan on keeping."

Jinx was quiet for a long moment. Then, suddenly, she grinned wide, slipping the ring onto her pinky finger with a dramatic flourish.

"Well, duh you’re gonna keep it," she said, leaning in close until your noses almost touched. "‘Cause if ya don’t, I’ll find ya."

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. "Yeah, I figured."

But before you could say anything else, she grabbed your wrist and tugged you down onto the floor beside her, settling against your side like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Y'know," she murmured, playing with the ring, "it's kinda nice… havin’ somethin’ to come back to."

And in that moment, you knew—you had given her something no one else had. A reason to believe.

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Sevika.

Sevika wasn’t the kind of woman who cared for sentimental things. She lived in a world where promises were just words, where loyalty was bought and sold, and where people who got too attached ended up dead.

That’s why this was stupid.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you sat at The Last Drop, waiting for her shift to end. The dim glow of the bar lights flickered above you, the scent of cheap liquor and cigarette smoke lingering in the air. Sevika was across the room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, watching over the patrons like a wolf waiting for an excuse to sink her teeth into someone.

She hadn't noticed you yet.

Good. That gave you another minute to talk yourself out of this.

But before you could, Sevika’s gruff voice cut through the noise. “You’ve been sitting there for a while.”

You looked up just in time to see her approach, her mechanical arm gleaming under the low light. She pulled a chair out and sat down heavily, eyeing you with mild amusement. “Something on your mind?”

Your fingers clenched around the small piece of metal in your pocket. This is dumb. She’s gonna laugh.

But you had already come this far.

Wordlessly, you pulled the ring out and set it on the table between you.

Sevika blinked, then looked at you with a raised brow. “What’s this?”

You swallowed. “A promise ring. I made it.”

For a moment, she just stared at you. Then, she let out a low chuckle and leaned back in her chair. “The hell are we? A couple of love-drunk teenagers?”

Your stomach twisted. “Look, if you don’t—”

Her fingers closed over the ring before you could finish.

She turned it over in her palm, inspecting it like she would a blade—searching for flaws, for weaknesses. And yet, she didn’t toss it aside. Didn’t mock it. Didn’t mock you.

“You made this?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

You nodded. “Yeah. Figured… you don’t have a lot of things that are just yours. Thought maybe you should.”

She was quiet for a long moment. The usual sharpness in her expression dulled slightly, something unreadable flickering in her eyes.

Then, without a word, she slipped the ring onto her pinky finger.

It was rough, imperfect, but it fit.

“You know promises don’t mean shit in Zaun,” she muttered, flexing her fingers like she was testing the weight of it.

You exhaled. “I know. But this one does.”

Sevika studied you for a moment before shaking her head with a smirk. “You’re a damn fool.”

But she didn’t take the ring off.

Instead, she stood, ruffling your hair roughly before walking away—ring still on her hand, fingers brushing over it absentmindedly.

And for Sevika, that was as close to an I love you as you were ever going to get.

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Author note: THIS WAS SO COOL TO WRITE OMG FEEL FREE TO SEND MORE CHAT

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odileeclipse · 3 months ago

Text

In the Presence of Truth {"Sage of Truth" (SMC) x Reader} PT 15

<<<Previous Next>>>

A/N I might not get the chance to look at my inbox properly until tomorrow afternoon but I finally got around to finishing and polishing ch15 and wanted to post it before I forgot <3

Shadow Milk Cookie said nothing at first, but there was something almost indulgent in the way he regarded you, as if he found your amusement at his answer amusing in turn. Then, without another word, he took a seat at the harpsichord, his fingers poised over the keys. You weren’t sure what you had expected but the first few notes he played were enough to make you fall silent.

The first note rang out, crisp and clear, reverberating through the vast chamber like a ripple across still water. It was not merely sound it was a presence, filling every corner of the space, settling deep into your bones. The harpsichord’s voice was unlike any instrument you had ever heard before, bright, articulate, but carrying an undeniable weight, as if each note was a carefully chosen word in a language older than time itself. And at the center of it all was him. Shadow Milk Cookie was seated before the grand instrument, and in that moment, he looked untouchable.

The afternoon light filtering through the high-arched windows illuminated him in a way that felt almost deliberate, as if even the sun wished to acknowledge his presence. His robes, always refined, seemed richer in this setting deep celestial blue, embroidered with delicate gold constellations that shimmered when he moved. But it was his hair that held you captive.

It was like a galaxy unfurled, dark sapphire at the roots before fading into a luminous, ethereal blue, each strand shifting as though it contained the movement of the night sky itself. Stars tiny, glimmering motes dusted his locks, flickering like distant constellations caught in the ever-changing current of his hair. It moved as though it belonged to something greater than mere gravity, undulating softly, as if stirred by an unseen cosmic tide.

And then there were his eyes. One blue, deep and unfathomable like an ocean at midnight. The other gold, gleaming with an otherworldly brilliance, as if alight with the very knowledge he so devotedly pursued. Together, they carried a weight that sent a shiver down your spine, wisdom beyond years, mysteries yet unraveled.

They were eyes that had seen truths most could never hope to comprehend, and yet, as he played, they softened, half-lidded with a focus so pure it was almost reverent. You could hardly breathe. His hands glided over the keys with effortless precision, fingers weaving melody and meaning together in a way that felt intentional, as though each note carried an unspoken truth, meant only for those willing to listen. He did not simply play the harpsichord he commanded it, coaxed from it something both powerful and delicate. You watched, utterly transfixed.

He was magnificent. Like something out of a masterful painting, framed in golden light, captured in a moment of pure artistry. It felt unreal to be witnessing him like this, to see him immersed in something beyond lectures and research, beyond the unshakable composure he so often maintained. There was something deeply human about the way he played his fingers pressing just a little deeper into the keys on certain phrases, the faintest movement of his lips as if he were silently following the melody, the way his shoulders subtly tensed with the weight of emotion woven into each note.

Your heart thundered against your ribs. Your fingers twitched before coming to rest over your chest, pressing lightly against your sternum, a subconscious attempt to steady the overwhelming sensation blooming there. But the moment your hand made contact, realization struck, and you quickly dropped it, as if burned. No. That wasn’t your intention. It wasn’t that. …Was it? You pushed the thought aside, gripping the hem of your sleeve to ground yourself. And yet, no matter how you tried to suppress it, the feeling remained. A warmth, curling in your chest, persistent and unfamiliar. The piece swelled toward its conclusion, cascading notes falling like stars scattered across the sky. Then, at last, the final chord resonated through the air, ringing out before dissolving into silence. The absence of sound was almost startling. You exhaled, only now realizing you had been holding your breath. For a moment, you could only sit there, stunned, the weight of what you had just experienced settling over you. It was beautiful, so achingly beautiful that you felt something tighten in your throat, a prickle at the corners of your eyes that you hastily blinked away.

“…I’ve never heard anyone play the harpsichord before,” you admitted, your voice quieter than intended. It felt almost wrong to speak after such a performance, as if words might shatter the delicate atmosphere that still lingered in the air.

Shadow Milk Cookie finally turned to look at you. You didn’t notice the way his gaze lingered, how his golden eye glowed just a little brighter in the afternoon light, or the way the corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly. You didn’t see the way he studied you, taking in your expression with a knowing softness, as if the reaction he had just drawn from you was one he had anticipated all along. But he had noticed. He had noticed everything. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, lingering like the final note of his performance. You were still caught in it, still holding onto the last echoes of sound in your mind, unwilling to let them fade completely. Your breath felt unsteady, your thoughts even more so. And then, at last, Shadow Milk Cookie spoke. “Did you enjoy it?”

His voice was soft, smoother than usual, as if the music had softened him in turn. It was not the theatrical cadence he often used when debating, nor the measured patience he carried when tutoring. No this was something quieter, something almost intimate. You swallowed, still processing everything you had just heard, everything you had just felt.

“I…” You hesitated, then exhaled, your fingers curling against your knee. “It was… breathtaking.” You looked down, gathering your thoughts. “I've never heard anything like it before. The way you play… it’s like” Words failed you. Shadow Milk Cookie tilted his head ever so slightly, his golden eye glinting with curiosity. “Like?” You clenched your jaw, searching for something, anything, that could do justice to what you had just experienced. But how did you describe something like this? How did you explain the way each note had wrapped around your heart, the way it had stolen the breath from your lungs, the way it had made you feel as if you were witnessing something rare, something precious?

“…Like the stars are singing,” you finally said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Like a story without words like something you don’t just hear, but understand somewhere deep inside.”

His expression didn’t change immediately, but for the briefest moment, something flickered in his gaze. His hair, ever shifting like the cosmos itself, rippled with a subtle glow, as if stirred by unseen stardust. Then, with a hum of amusement, he leaned back slightly, his fingers idly ghosting over the keys. “A most poetic description,” he murmured, his tone unreadable. “But then again… I suppose you’ve been listening more closely as of late.”

You blinked, his words settling in your mind with a strange weight. Had you? Before, you would have struggled to keep up with his lectures, grasping at concepts like sand slipping through your fingers. But now, you found yourself hanging onto every word, every note, every subtle shift in his expression as he played. You had been listening really listening. And he had noticed. The realization sent something warm curling through your chest, but you pushed it down before it could take root. Instead, you cleared your throat, your gaze flickering to the harpsichord beneath his hands.

“…You told me you composed music,” you said carefully. “Was that piece one of yours?”

Shadow Milk Cookie’s fingers stilled for a moment. Then, he exhaled through his nose, almost as if he were smiling. “It was.” Something in your chest tightened.

“…Then you’re even more brilliant than I thought.” The words left you before you could reconsider them, but the sincerity in your voice was undeniable. This time, there was no mistaking it his lips quirked into the faintest, most fleeting hint of a smile. And though the silence returned, it no longer felt heavy. It was different now lighter, charged with something unspoken, something neither of you had the words for just yet.

You exhaled slowly, still trying to collect yourself after everything you had just witnessed. The music, the way he carried himself, the sheer grandeur of it all it was overwhelming in a way you hadn’t expected. And yet, amid the awe still thrumming in your chest, curiosity tugged at the edges of your thoughts. You glanced at him, watching as his fingers idly traced over the harpsichord keys, not pressing them, just… lingering. Almost absentmindedly. “…How many people have you played for before?” you asked, the words slipping out before you could second-guess them.

Shadow Milk Cookie didn’t look at you immediately. His golden eye flickered with something unreadable, while his blue eye like the deep cosmos swirling in endless motion remained calm, contemplative. “Why do you ask?” he finally said, tilting his head slightly.

You hesitated. “I just… I mean, people talk. It’s rumored that you’ve played before. So I figured… well, many people must have seen you by now.” A soft hum left him, almost thoughtful. He rested his hands properly over the keys again, though he made no move to play. His gaze drifted, as if sorting through distant memories, his starlit hair shifting ever so slightly, shimmering under the afternoon light that filtered through the window.

“…Fewer than you might think,” he said at last. That caught you off guard. You blinked. “Really?” He glanced at you then, his expression unreadable but patient, as though waiting to see what you would make of that answer. You frowned slightly.

“But… you’re you.” You gestured vaguely, still struggling to fully wrap your head around it. “You’re well, the Sage of Truth. You’ve taught so many scholars, given countless lectures, been part of some of the most renowned research studies in the Academy’s history. I just assumed that if you played, people would want to hear it. That they have heard it.”

His lips quirked ever so slightly, something almost resembling amusement flickering in his gaze. “I do not perform for an audience, if that is what you mean.” You stared at him.

“…You don’t?” He exhaled through his nose, shifting his hands slightly over the keys, but still not pressing them. “Music is a discipline much like any other. It requires practice, precision, and understanding. When I compose, it is not for the sake of spectacle.” He cast a glance at you, his gold and blue eyes gleaming with quiet intent.

“It is for the sake of expression.” Your breath hitched slightly. Something about the way he said it; so assured, so firm, yet with a weight that made your chest tighten struck you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Expression. Something for himself. Not for the Academy. Not for prestige. Not for a title or a research paper. Just… for him. You swallowed, your fingers curling slightly in your lap.

“Then… I was lucky to hear it?” Shadow Milk Cookie regarded you for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Perhaps.” The warmth curling in your chest deepened. You glanced down, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze, but you couldn’t help it. The realization was settling now, sinking into your bones.

You weren’t just one of many. You were one of the few. You felt warmth creeping up your neck, embarrassment curling into your chest like an uninvited guest. It wasn’t that he had said anything particularly bold, nothing overt or damning yet the weight of his words, the knowledge that you had just witnessed something intimate, something not meant for the masses, made your heart stutter.

You weren’t sure why it felt so monumental. Your fingers tightened slightly in your lap before you shifted, glancing away, feigning a sudden interest in the other instruments scattered throughout the room. There were violins neatly arranged on a stand, their lacquered wood catching the afternoon light. A cello rested in the corner, its strings taut with readiness. Various wind instruments lay in careful display cases, alongside aged manuscripts of compositions that must have belonged to scholars long before your time.

“This room is… really something,” you murmured, hoping your voice came out steady. Shadow Milk Cookie didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his gaze lingering on you. His stare was nothing like the prying, judgmental eyes of a crowded lecture hall. He had the kind of presence that naturally commanded attention, but when his gaze settled on you, it felt… bearable. Pleasant, even. You weren’t sure what to do with that realization. “Indeed,” he finally said, his voice as composed as ever.

“Each of these instruments has its own history, some crafted by artisans long forgotten, others once belonging to scholars whose names remain etched in time. Music, like truth, is eternal in its preservation.”

You nodded, trying to focus on anything but the way his words sent a quiet shiver down your spine. “Do you ever play anything else?” you asked, tracing the outline of a delicate lyre resting on a nearby stand. There was a slight pause before he answered. “I have studied several,” he admitted. “But none call to me quite like the harpsichord.” You glanced at him again, your face still warm but no longer burning.

“That makes sense,” you said with a small smile. “It suits you.” His eyes flickered, something unreadable passing through them. For a brief moment, you wondered if you had said too much, if you had allowed something to slip through the careful barrier you had built between admiration and something else entirely. But then he simply nodded, turning his gaze toward the instruments once more, and the moment passed like a quiet note fading into stillness. You exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you brushed your fingers along the polished wood of the lyre. “I always wanted to be musically talented,” you admitted, glancing at Shadow Milk Cookie before turning back to the instrument.

“When I was younger, I really wanted to learn the guitar.” You let out a soft sigh, tilting your head as if picturing yourself in some long-gone moment, struggling with chords that never quite sounded right. “But I was so bad at it. I mean, really bad.” You laughed at yourself, the memory distant enough that you could find humor in it now. “At some point, my teacher just very gently suggested that maybe I should try singing instead.” Your fingers traced along the delicate carvings of the lyre’s frame as you added, “Apparently, playing wasn’t really in the cards for me.” Shadow Milk Cookie was quiet for a moment, though you could still feel his presence beside you, his gaze steady, unreadable as always. Then, after a beat, he hummed thoughtfully.

“Perhaps it was not a matter of talent,” he mused, “but rather that your hands were searching for the wrong instrument.” His words made you pause. You turned to him, brow slightly furrowed. “What do you mean?” He regarded you with something softer than his usual sharp intensity, something thoughtful, considering.

“Not every scholar finds their truth in the same pursuit,” he said simply. “Just as some seek knowledge in tomes and others in the world itself, music too has its own avenues. One must find the medium that allows them to express what words cannot.” You blinked, absorbing his words.

“So… you’re saying I just haven’t found the right instrument?” “Precisely.” His gold and blue eyes gleamed, his expression as composed as ever, yet there was something almost… expectant in the way he looked at you. Your gaze drifted back to the instruments around the room. It was a nice thought, the idea that maybe just maybe you hadn’t failed, but simply hadn’t found the right voice through which to speak. Still, you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Well, unless there’s an instrument out there that requires absolutely no coordination, I think I’ll stick to listening.” Shadow Milk Cookie’s lips quirked, amusement barely visible in the corners of his mouth. “Then perhaps you were meant to be an audience rather than a performer.”

You smiled, glancing at him again. “I think I’m okay with that.” Your gaze lingered on the instruments, fingers still ghosting over the intricate carvings on the lyre. The weight of the conversation settled in your mind; his words, the music, the feeling of witnessing something rare and deeply personal. It was almost too much, too grand for something as ordinary as a tutoring session. A tutoring session.

That thought struck you suddenly, like a chime breaking through the hush of a quiet room. How much time had passed? You glanced toward the tall windows lining the far wall, their glass panes streaked with the golden light of the afternoon sun. The hours had slipped by unnoticed, the world outside continuing on without you while you sat in the Scholar’s Wing, listening to music that left your heart aching in ways you weren’t entirely sure how to name. You hesitated before speaking, reluctant to break the quiet atmosphere you had both fallen into.

“I… suppose that means there’s less time for tutoring now,” you murmured, half to yourself, half to him. Shadow Milk Cookie turned his head slightly, his gaze still unreadable. If he had noticed the time slipping away, he made no indication of it. Instead, he merely tilted his head, a thoughtful hum leaving his lips. “Do you regret it?” he asked. The question caught you off guard. You looked at him again, at the way the light touched the edges of his hair, making the deep blues shimmer like a night sky scattered with distant stars. Regret? No. That wasn’t the right word at all.

You shook your head, a small, almost sheepish smile pulling at your lips. “No,” you admitted. “Not at all.” His expression didn’t change much, but something in his eyes shifted something unreadable yet warm, as if he had expected your answer and found it… satisfactory. “Then the time was not wasted.” You let out a quiet breath, allowing yourself to relax. No, it wasn’t wasted at all. The weight of the moment lingered between you, the echoes of the harpsichord’s melody still curling through your thoughts. You glanced toward the door, then back at Shadow Milk Cookie, suddenly feeling the need to ground yourself again to return to the familiar, to your friends, to the usual rhythm of your days. “We should probably go,” you said, shifting slightly where you stood.

“It’s almost time for dinner, and I really don’t want to deal with the rush of hungry people.” Shadow Milk Cookie regarded you for a moment before standing smoothly, his robes catching the afternoon light like a shifting night sky. “A prudent decision,” he murmured, his voice rich with its usual refinement. “There is a particular ferocity that emerges when scholars are deprived of sustenance.” You let out a small, amused breath. “Dramatic, but not inaccurate.” He gestured for you to walk ahead, and together, the two of you left the quiet sanctuary of the music room. The halls of the Scholar’s Wing were hushed, save for the occasional murmuring conversation in passing. Shadow Milk Cookie walked with you at a measured pace, and it wasn’t until you were nearing his office where your things still waited that he spoke again. “Which of your friends will be there?” he asked, his tone casual. The question didn’t strike you as odd. If anything, it was expected he had encountered your friends before, even in passing. “Chai Latte, for sure. Hazelnut and Earl Grey too, probably,” you answered. “We usually eat together.”

Shadow Milk Cookie hummed in understanding, his gaze briefly flickering ahead before settling back on you. There was something unreadable in his expression, but it was gone before you could think too much of it. The two of you reached his office, and as you stepped inside to gather your belongings, you found yourself glancing at him once more. He had already moved toward his desk, absentmindedly adjusting the placement of a few scattered notes. It was strange this entire evening. Not in a bad way, just… different. And yet, as you slung your bag over your shoulder and turned back toward him, you found yourself hesitating for just a second longer. You shot him a curious glance, adjusting the strap of your bag as you gathered your things. “Why do you ask?”

Shadow Milk Cookie barely paused, his fingers still idly arranging the papers on his desk. “Simple curiosity.” His voice was smooth, as if the question held no deeper meaning. “You often speak of them, and I am merely observing the consistency of your patterns.” You huffed a quiet laugh.

“Right… same as always, then. Chai Latte, Hazelnut, Earl Grey. My usual group.” You lingered by the door for a moment before adding, “If you wanted to join us, I don’t think they’d mind.” His hands stilled for just a fraction of a second before he resumed his movements, expression as poised as ever. “An intriguing proposition,” he mused, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“However, I believe my presence would be… an unexpected variable in your usual dynamic.” You blinked. “I mean, probably, but it’s not like we’d mind. They already know I’ve been studying with you. It wouldn’t be that weird.” Shadow Milk Cookie regarded you with that same measured look, the kind that always made you feel like he was studying something just beyond your own understanding. Then, after a moment, he exhaled softly, his gaze briefly drifting toward the window. “A gracious offer,” he finally said, “but one I shall decline. For now.” There was something about the way he said it that made you wonder if, perhaps, he had considered it more seriously than he let on. But before you could dwell on it, he was already moving toward the door, gesturing for you to step out first. “Come,” he said. “You wished to avoid the rush, did you not?” And with that, the conversation slipped away, leaving behind only the faintest thread of curiosity lingering in its place.

You let out a small chuckle, adjusting your bag as you followed him toward the door. “What, have I overstayed my welcome?” you teased, glancing up at him with a grin. Shadow Milk Cookie paused, just for a moment. His golden eye glimmered with something unreadable before he turned his gaze forward once more. “Hardly,” he said smoothly. “If that were the case, you would have known.” His tone was even, his words poised but something about them made your stomach do an odd little flip. You scoffed, shaking your head. “Right, because you’d be so subtle about it.”

“A scholar must be direct in their findings,” he remarked, the faintest trace of amusement threading through his voice. “If you had, as you say, overstayed, you would be informed immediately and without hesitation.” You rolled your eyes.

“Good to know.” Still, as the two of you stepped into the dim corridors of the Scholar’s Wing, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that, if anything, you had been welcome for far longer than you realized. As you reached the threshold of the Scholar’s Wing, where the lantern-lit corridors gave way to the more bustling walkways of the Academy, you slowed your steps, hesitating for a moment before turning back to him.

Shadow Milk Cookie stood there, watching you with that ever-measured gaze, the soft glow of the nearby sconces catching in his deep blue and gold eyes. His presence, as always, felt larger than the space around him contained, yet vast, like an endless sky just waiting beyond the reach of your fingertips.

You shifted your bag higher on your shoulder, feigning a casual air despite the odd flutter in your chest. “Same time tomorrow?” you asked, as if it weren’t already set in stone, as if you didn’t already know you’d be here again without question. The corner of his lips curled, just slightly. He tilted his head, considering you.

“Have you already forgotten our schedule?” You huffed, pretending to scoff. “Just making sure,” you muttered. It was an excuse, flimsy at best. You just… didn’t want to leave without saying something else. His expression remained unreadable, but there was something in the way he regarded you, something quiet, something thoughtful. Then, with the same practiced ease he always carried, he dipped his head ever so slightly.

“Tomorrow, then,” he confirmed. Satisfied though you weren’t sure why you nodded. “Alright. See you.” You turned on your heel, making your way toward the main halls, but even as you walked, you could still feel the weight of his gaze lingering just a moment longer before he, too, disappeared into the depths of the Scholar’s Wing. The dining hall was comfortably full but not yet overrun, the earlier dinner rush having already passed. You slipped into your usual seat with ease, the warmth of familiar company grounding you. Chai Latte Cookie barely gave you time to set down your tray before leaning in, her eyes flickering with mischief.

“You’re not late this time,” she noted, propping her chin on her hand. “Color me surprised.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie barely looked up from his notes, adjusting his reading glasses. “What a miracle.” Earl Grey Cookie, on the other hand, studied you with a glance brief, but precise, like he was peeling back layers of an unseen puzzle. You ignored all of them, focusing instead on your food. Or at least, you tried to. But you must have hesitated too long, because Chai Latte Cookie’s teasing smile softened, her voice dipping just a little quieter. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you said, too casually. You poked at your meal, as if arranging it just right would somehow erase whatever it was that had settled in your chest. It wasn’t nothing, though. It was the image of long, elegant fingers dancing across harpsichord keys, of stardust-swept hair catching the soft glow of lamplight, of a gaze that held something unreadable, something you hadn’t had the courage to decipher. It was the lingering echo of music that had never touched your ears before today. And it was the way you felt, sitting there, recalling it not just admiration, not just awe, but something else. Something quieter. Something you didn’t quite know how to name.

“You’re thinking about something,” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie pointed out. Earl Grey Cookie turned a page in his book but didn’t look away from you. “Or someone.” Your fork clattered against your plate. “I was not ” Chai Latte Cookie hummed, reaching for her drink. “Mmm. If you say so.” You buried your face in your hands. Because the worst part? You didn’t even know if they were wrong. Chai Latte Cookie tilted her head, eyes sparkling with amusement as she swirled her drink lazily. “You’ve got a look,” she mused, her tone far too knowing for your liking. You blinked. “A… look?”

She grinned, resting her chin on her palm. “Mhm. I know that look.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie raised a brow but didn’t comment, while Earl Grey Cookie merely observed in silence, waiting. You huffed, turning your attention back to your food. “I don’t have a look.” Chai Latte Cookie just laughed. “Oh, but you do. It’s that soft, far-off, thinking-about-someone look.” She took a sip of her drink, eyes never leaving you.

“And I have never seen it on you before.” Your whole body stiffened. “I ” You faltered, suddenly unable to meet her gaze. Because was that what this was? You weren’t… thinking about him like that, were you? You were just caught up in the moment, in the music, in the sheer unexpectedness of seeing Shadow Milk Cookie the Sage of Truth doing something so… human. That was all. Wasn’t it? Chai Latte Cookie didn’t press further, but the knowing curve of her lips told you she’d already drawn her own conclusions. And the worst part? You weren’t sure you could argue against them. “Do you guys think you’d wait an eternity for someone?” You asked wistfully a question you were still hung up on. The story from the city lingering, latched onto your heart like a tick.

Chai Latte Cookie’s playful smile softened as she swirled her drink in her hands, the dim light of the dining hall reflecting in her eyes. “You’re still thinking about that story, huh?” You nodded, glancing down at your plate. The tale had lingered in your mind ever since you heard it, refusing to be forgotten. “I just… I keep wondering. Could someone really wait that long? A hundred years, just for a single moment with someone?”

Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie exhaled through his nose, arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair. “If they had no other choice, maybe. But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be agonizing.” Earl Grey Cookie, ever thoughtful, tapped a finger against the table. “It depends on what they’re waiting for. If they knew, without a doubt, that they’d see their beloved again even after a century then perhaps the waiting wouldn’t feel like suffering. But if there was no guarantee…” He trailed off, his expression unreadable. You swallowed.

“I don’t know if I could do it.” Chai Latte Cookie tilted her head, a knowing glint in her gaze. “I think it’s less about whether you could and more about whether you’d want to. If someone meant that much to you, maybe time wouldn’t matter at all.” That struck something deep within you. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to respond. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie let out a short breath. “Still sounds tragic to me.”

Chai Latte Cookie chuckled. “Oh, don’t act like you weren’t invested in the story. You were the one who insisted we stay and listen to the end.”

“I appreciate good storytelling,” he replied smoothly, but the tips of his ears were a little pink. You shook your head, smiling faintly, but the weight of the question still pressed on your mind. Chai Latte Cookie studied you, then reached across the table, her fingers just brushing yours. “Are you asking because you’re curious? Or because you’re wondering?”

Your breath hitched slightly. You weren’t sure. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Maybe you just wanted to understand the kind of love that could last beyond time itself. But before you could dwell on it further, Chai Latte Cookie gave your hand a gentle squeeze and grinned. “Well, if you ever decide to wait a hundred years for someone, let me know. I’ll wait right there with you.” You laughed, shaking your head. “I think I’d rather not wait that long at all.” But something in your chest tightened, a quiet, unspoken feeling curling at the edges of your thoughts. Because wasn’t that the whole point of the story? Sometimes, the choice wasn’t yours to make.

Chai Latte Cookie’s playful energy dimmed, her gaze soft as she watched you, fingers idly tracing the rim of her cup. “Is it the Sage of Truth?” Her voice lacked its usual teasing lilt no laughter, no playful nudges. Just quiet understanding, the kind that only a close friend could offer. Your breath caught in your throat. “What?” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I know you, you know? And I know that look. You’re thinking about someone, and it’s not just because of some ghost story.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie set his utensils down, leveling you with a knowing glance.

“Chai’s not wrong. You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately.” Earl Grey Cookie, who had been stirring his tea with methodical patience, finally looked up. “You never used to care about staying late to study. Now, you act like it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

You fumbled for words. “I-he’s just tutoring me. That’s all.” Chai Latte Cookie sighed, resting her chin in her hand. “I’m not saying you have feelings for him.” A pause. “But if you did”

“I don’t.” She gave you a look, unimpressed. “Okay. But if you did, I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Your fingers curled around your fork, a tightness settling in your chest. “I don’t see why that would happen.” Chai Latte Cookie hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “It’s fun to joke and tease about it, yeah, but…” She glanced away for a second before meeting your eyes again.

“I don’t think you should get your hopes up. Not because it’s impossible, or because I don’t support you, but because realistically nothing good could come from it.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie crossed his arms, nodding. “Nobody really knows much about him. He’s private. Guarded.” Earl Grey Cookie adjusted his glasses. “And to be blunt, we don’t even know if he’s single.” That made you freeze. “You mean…?” Chai Latte Cookie exhaled through her nose. “He’s so private, he could already be spoken for, and we wouldn’t know.”

The words settled uncomfortably in your chest, heavy with unspoken weight. Earl Grey Cookie looked at you carefully, his voice even. “I’m not saying this to discourage you. But you have to admit, for all the time you’ve spent around him… how much do you really know about him?” You hated that you didn’t have an answer. The Sage of Truth Shadow Milk Cookie was… unfathomable. A beacon of knowledge. Someone revered, admired, respected. But beyond the theatrical wisdom and the careful distance he always maintained, what was there? You realized, with a quiet sort of dread, that you weren’t sure. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie let out a slow breath. “We just don’t want you to set yourself up for something that might never happen. And if he really was with someone ”

“I know,” you cut in, voice quieter than you expected. “I get it.” Chai Latte Cookie reached across the table, her fingers warm against yours. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” You swallowed, forcing a small smile. “I know.” But deep down, the uncertainty lingered. Chai Latte Cookie’s fingers tightened around yours, grounding, steady. “Hey,” she murmured, her voice a gentle lull, like waves against the shore. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” You shook your head, but the motion felt half-hearted. A dull ache settled in the pit of your stomach, something quiet and gnawing. They’re right. Of course they’re right. Who is Shadow Milk Cookie? You’ve seen only glimpses of a scholar wrapped in truth, untouchable, illuminated like a figure from a painting. He reveals knowledge like pulling back a veil, but never himself. And yet… he’s seen you. The thought twists like a knife. You’ve bared your struggles to him, your weaknesses laid out like an open book. He’s seen you hesitate, stumble, fail, watched as you fumbled through lessons, watched as you grew. You had nothing to hide, no layers of mystery, no grand secrets. But him? He was always just out of reach. Always the untouchable scholar, his mind an endless expanse of wisdom, while you were just… you.

It feels unfair. Chai Latte Cookie must see something on your face because before you can say anything, she pulls you in, arms wrapping around you, her warmth pressing the ache deeper into your chest. “I’m sorry,” she says, voice close to your ear. “I didn’t want to make you feel like this.” You breathe in, her scent familiar, spiced tea, something sweet beneath it. It makes the ache worse, somehow. You swallow past the tightness in your throat.

“It’s okay,” you manage, though your voice is unsteady. “It’s not,” she says, softer this time. Your fingers dig into the fabric of her sleeve, just for a second. You don’t know what you’re feeling, but it sits heavy in your ribs, uncomfortable and raw. “I just…” You hesitate, trying to find the words.

“I’ve spent all this time with him, but I don’t really know him. And he ” Your throat tightens. “He knows me.” Chai Latte Cookie pulls back just enough to look at you, her brows knitting together in concern. “That’s not fair to you.” You let out a breathy laugh, but it holds no real humor.

“I know.” She studies you for a long moment before sighing, brushing her thumb over the back of your hand. “Listen,” she says gently. “If you ever need to talk about this, and I mean really talk about it, I'm here, okay?” You nod, though the ache doesn’t fade. Earl Grey Cookie and Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie haven’t spoken, but they watch you carefully, offering presence in place of words. You appreciate it. Chai Latte Cookie’s grip lingers a moment longer before she finally lets go, smiling, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Come on,” she says, nudging her cup toward you.

“Drink. It’ll make you feel better.” You don’t know if it will. But you take the cup anyway. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie shifted closer, his warmth a quiet reassurance, mirroring Chai Latte Cookie’s gestures with his own steady presence. He squeezed your shoulder, just firm enough to ground you. “You know,” he said, keeping his voice light, as if sensing you needed the softness, “you don’t have to figure everything out right now.” His words were meant to comfort, but they only made the ache in your chest tighten. Figure everything out? As if there was anything to figure out. As if this strange, lingering feeling inside you needed to be named.

But it did, didn’t it? You just weren’t ready to say it aloud. Earl Grey Cookie, ever poised, didn’t smother you in warmth the way the others did, but his presence was a balm in its own way. He adjusted his glasses with an air of careful deliberation before speaking.

“If something troubles you, it would be unwise to carry it alone,” he mused, his voice smooth as dark tea. “Emotions are like fine blends best shared, lest they become too bitter to swallow.” You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head. “Are you comparing my feelings to tea?” Earl Grey Cookie’s lips quirked in a barely-there smile. “Would you expect any less from me?” Chai Latte Cookie giggled, and even Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie let out an amused breath.

You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. The dinner table felt heavier than it had when you arrived, your appetite dulled by the weight in your chest. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It wasn’t even his fault. But you hadn’t realized, not until this moment, just how attached you’d become. And still, you told yourself it wasn’t anything more. But the dull ache in your chest wanted to say otherwise. Of course, your friends knew. They weren’t blind. They saw the way you lingered in your own thoughts, how your eyes softened at the mention of him, how your chest rose just a little lighter at the sound of his voice. But they wouldn’t say it for you. Not until you were ready.

And right now, you weren’t. So instead, you let them be there for you. You let Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie’s steady touch remind you that you weren’t alone. You let Chai Latte Cookie’s quiet warmth soothe the edges of your unease. You let Earl Grey Cookie’s careful words give you a sense of control, however fleeting. You let yourself be held in the way only friends could hold you. And for now, that was enough.

The gardens were quiet tonight. The faint hum of nocturnal magic wove through the air, barely perceptible beneath the rustling of the willows and the occasional ripple of the reflecting pool. You traced idle patterns into the stone bench beside you, your fingertips cool against its weathered surface. It was peaceful. It was yours. And yet, you were not at peace. You exhaled slowly, shoulders sinking under the weight of your own thoughts. Foolish, wasn't it? How much could change in the span of a day? How quickly a simple conversation could unravel something you had not even realized was fragile until now? You had sat at this very bench countless times before, but tonight, the air felt heavier.

Your friends had been right. Who was he, really? A figure of brilliance, a mind beyond compare, a presence that carried itself with an effortless grace. He was revered, admired, respected. His name was spoken with awe in the halls of the Academy, his intellect the kind that shaped scholars for generations to come. And you? You had only ever seen glimpses of him pieces of a much greater whole. And yet, in some foolish, unguarded way, you had allowed him to see you. It felt unfair. Your fingers curled into your palm.

You had seen something of him today that no lecture hall could capture, something beyond truth-seeking, beyond measured wisdom. A moment in which he was simply himself, the music flowing from his fingers, his expression softened with focus, his gaze distant yet utterly present. It had been mesmerizing. It had made your heart stutter in ways you did not wish to acknowledge. And now, here you were. Hiding away in the place you had once brought him, as if trying to reclaim something, as if trying to pull yourself back into the comfort of before. But even this place had changed. Because now, he had been here too. You let your head fall back, staring up through the willow branches. They swayed gently, their glow pulsing faintly in the darkness. A part of you wished you had never invited him. That you had never let him into your space, where you could pretend you were not affected. But another part of you… Another part of you was glad he had come.

The sky stretched endlessly above you, deep indigo melting into black, pricked with shimmering stars that scattered like flecks of silver dust. A familiar sight one you had gazed upon countless times before, from this very spot, no less. Yet tonight, it felt different. Or perhaps, you were different. You exhaled, watching as your breath curled faintly in the night air. You shouldn’t have been thinking about him. And yet, the stars only served as a reminder, twinkling reflections of his hair, that impossible cascade of dark silk shot through with light, shifting even in stillness. You could picture it perfectly, the way it had moved as he sat beside you, strands slipping over his shoulder like liquid dusk.

"It is… a reflection of who I am."

Your own words came back to haunt you. "So that means… your true personality must be beautiful." A quiet warmth had settled in his golden eyes then, unreadable yet thoughtful, as if turning the words over in his mind. As if he had not expected them. And you? You had been so caught up in the moment, in the effortless rhythm of conversation, that you hadn’t realized, hadn’t understood what was happening. Not until now. Your fingers curled against the cool stone of the bench. What were you doing? You barely knew him. So what if he played the harpsichord? So what if his laughter, so rare, so carefully contained had managed to weave its way into your thoughts, lingering like the final note of a song long after the melody had faded? So what if his hair shimmered like a starry sky, if his presence felt like something grand yet unreachable, if his voice carried the weight of knowledge and mystery alike? What else did you actually know?

What was his favorite color? His favorite meal? Did he even have a favorite meal, or was he the type to forgo such simple pleasures in pursuit of loftier things? Who were his friends? Did he have any? You frowned. You had never once seen him linger with others outside of academic discussions. No quiet moments of shared meals in the dining halls, no casual conversations in the corridors. Only debates, lessons, the ever-constant pursuit of truth.

And yet… he had found you that day. Had sought you out. That should have meant something, shouldn’t it? But what if it didn’t? What if that was simply who he was, someone who never left questions unanswered? If he had sought you out, it wasn’t because he missed you. It wasn’t because he cared. It was because you had not shown up. Because he was expecting you. Your chest ached. It was foolish. It was foolish to have let yourself grow attached, to have let the glimpses of him a quiet laugh, a thoughtful gaze, the rare and fleeting moments of softness mean something. And yet, what was worse… was that it wasn’t his fault. He had never promised anything. He had never given you a reason to believe he was anything but what he had always been the Sage of Truth.

Not Shadow Milk, not the man beyond the title, beyond the wisdom, beyond the grandeur. Just the Sage. You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your palms against your temples as if that might somehow ease the dull ache spreading through you. Was he taken? The thought struck like a cruel whisper, unwelcome and unbidden. You had no idea. He was private. Mysterious. The kind of person who could have been spoken for, deeply committed to someone, and no one would ever know. And if he was? You swallowed hard, ignoring the way your throat tightened. Then it had never been yours to hold onto in the first place. The wind stirred the willow branches above you, their leaves casting shifting shadows along the ground. The koi-like creatures in the reflecting pool swam lazily beneath the water, unbothered, unburdened. You envied them. Your hands fell limply into your lap, your shoulders sagging beneath the weight of it all. You were just another student. He was the Sage of Truth.

And yet, the ache in your chest whispered that even knowing all of this, you would still meet him tomorrow. You would still listen to his voice, still try to understand the way his mind worked, still watch the way his golden eyes flickered with something warm, something almost gentle, whenever he looked at you.

Because despite everything, despite the foolishness of it all… You weren’t ready to let go. With a slow, heavy exhale, you let your shoulders slump, exhaustion settling over you like a thick, inescapable fog. What was the point in dragging yourself back to your dorm when sleep was already pulling at your limbs, threatening to drag you under? Here, beneath the willow’s gentle canopy, with the quiet rustling of leaves and the distant ripple of the reflecting pool, the world felt softer, less overwhelming.

It wasn’t as if anyone was here to stop you. You shifted slightly, curling in on yourself as you leaned back against the stone bench. The cool surface pressed against your spine, grounding you, yet offering no protest as you allowed your body to sink further into its embrace. Your eyelids fluttered, heavy. The Academy felt so far away from here. The expectations, the lessons, the weight of failure all melted into the background, lost beneath the hum of the wind and the distant croak of a nightbird. Maybe, just for tonight, you didn’t have to think about anything. Not about your classes. Not about your struggles. Not about him. You exhaled one last time before letting sleep take you.

You awoke to the stiff ache of your neck protesting even the smallest movement. A dull, throbbing pain settled at the base of your skull, a punishment for the way you’d let yourself slump awkwardly on the stone bench overnight.

For a moment, you sat there, groggy and dazed, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the willow leaves. The Academy Gardens were still quiet, untouched by the usual morning bustle, and the air was crisp with the lingering scent of damp earth and night-blooming jasmine. It would have been peaceful, had a sudden realization not struck you like a bucket of cold water.

What time was it?

Your stomach twisted as you scrambled upright, your joints aching from the awkward position you had slept in. Without even checking your reflection in the water, you grabbed your things and bolted from the garden, feet pounding against the mossy paths as you rushed toward the main halls. You barely made it through the doors, heart racing, before the bells signaling the start of the first period rang out.

You were disheveled.

Your uniform was wrinkled, a stray leaf still clung to your sleeve, and your hair...oh, you didn’t even want to think about your hair. You smoothed it down quickly as you ducked into the lecture hall, ignoring the curious glances from a few students already seated. Sliding into your usual spot, you caught your breath, trying to ignore the stiffness in your neck. You’d have to suffer through the day like this.

You slumped slightly in your seat, rolling your shoulder in a weak attempt to ease the stiffness in your neck as you waited for your friends. The morning rush had left you slightly winded, and you knew you must’ve looked a mess your uniform wrinkled, your hair hastily smoothed down but still undeniably unkempt, and a faint, lingering imprint on your cheek from where you’d pressed against the stone bench.

It wasn’t long before Chai Latte Cookie arrived, sliding into the seat beside you with a puzzled expression. Hazelnut Biscotti and Earl Grey followed shortly after, both eyeing you with quiet curiosity. “You weren’t at breakfast,” Chai Latte Cookie pointed out, tilting her head. “We were wondering where you went.” Hazelnut Biscotti frowned slightly, adjusting his glasses.

“We even thought you might’ve gone ahead, but clearly…” He gave you a once-over. “That wasn’t the case.” Earl Grey merely raised an eyebrow, but his silence spoke volumes. You smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck in an attempt to play it off. “I, uh… overslept.” Chai Latte Cookie blinked. “Overslept? Where? Your dorm?” You hesitated for half a second too long. Her eyes narrowed. “Wait.” Then she gasped, leaning in with a scandalized whisper.

“Did you not sleep in your bed?” Hazelnut Biscotti let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, for the love of- don’t tell me you-” Before they could properly interrogate you, the lecture hall door swung open with a sharp clack, and Almond Custard Cookie strode in, posture straight and severe as always. The chatter in the room immediately died down as students straightened in their seats.

“Good morning,” he greeted, though his tone was as firm as ever. “I trust that you all have reviewed yesterday’s material.” You forced yourself to sit up properly, silently relieved by the well-timed interruption. But out of the corner of your eye, you caught Chai Latte Cookie leaning just slightly in your direction. “This conversation isn’t over,” she murmured, voice laced with curiosity and concern in equal measure. You sighed. You’d have to deal with that later.

The lecture passed in a blur, your mind still fogged with the lingering exhaustion of a poor night’s sleep. Normally, you’d be the first to slip out of the classroom once dismissed, eager to avoid any unnecessary conversation or scrutiny. But today… there wasn’t much of a point. Chai Latte Cookie was a fast walker, and no matter how much of a head start you tried to get, she’d always catch up. Hazelnut Biscotti and Earl Grey, for all their composed exteriors, were equally determined when it came to making sure you were alright. There was no escaping them. So instead of making a run for it, you packed your things at a normal pace, bracing yourself for the inevitable. Sure enough, Chai Latte Cookie looped her arm through yours the moment you stepped into the hallway, tugging you along with a knowing smile.

“So,” she began, tone as sweet as honey but sharp with intent. “Where did you sleep last night?” You sighed, your attempt at a sheepish grin doing little to disarm her. “Just… my favorite spot.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie groaned behind you.

“You slept on that stone bench again?”

“Wait, again?” Earl Grey Cookie echoed, raising an eyebrow. Chai Latte Cookie’s grip on your arm tightened slightly in a way that told you she was not letting this slide. “No wonder you look like you got steamrolled. Do you know how bad that is for your back?” You rolled your shoulders, still feeling the stiff ache in your neck. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Hazelnut Biscotti muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. Earl Grey sighed through his nose, his expression unreadable as he studied you. “We would have woken you this morning,” he said, tone softer than usual. “If we had known, that is.”

You looked away, guilt creeping up your spine. You hadn’t meant to worry them. Chai Latte Cookie sighed, letting go of your arm only to poke your forehead lightly. “Next time, just tell us, okay? You don’t have to wander off alone when you’re feeling down.”

Hazelnut Biscotti huffed. “Or at the very least, pick somewhere comfortable to mope.” You let out a small, tired laugh. “Noted.” Your friends exchanged glances, clearly still unconvinced, but they didn’t push further not yet, at least. Instead, Chai Latte Cookie simply linked her arm with yours again and led the way down the hall, her warmth grounding you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. No matter how much of a mess you felt like, they weren’t going to leave you alone. You weren’t sure you minded.

“So,” she began, her voice light but far too knowing. “Care to explain why you slept on that bench?”

“I wasn’t moping, if that’s what you’re all thinking.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie hummed, arching his brow clearly unconvinced. “No one said you were.” You shot him a pointed look. He was gaslighting you. “But since you brought it up…”

“I wasn’t!” you insisted, exasperated. “I just… needed some fresh air. That’s all.” Chai Latte Cookie tilted her head, considering. “Fresh air, huh?” You nodded quickly. “Yes. Fresh air. Perfectly normal, perfectly reasonable fresh air.” Earl Grey finally spoke, his voice as smooth as ever. “And this fresh air just happened to lull you to sleep on a cold stone bench?” You huffed. “It wasn’t cold.”

Hazelnut Biscotti groaned. “That is not the point.” Chai Latte sighed, resting her chin against your shoulder as she continued to walk beside you. “You know, if you wanted fresh air so badly, you could’ve told us. We would’ve gone with you.”

You felt a pang of guilt but shrugged it off. “I didn’t want to bother you.” Earl Grey gave you a pointed look. “And yet, here we are, bothered.” You winced. Okay, maybe that was fair. Chai Latte pulled away just enough to nudge your side. “Next time, tell us. You’re not alone, you know?” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie nodded. “Seriously. If you’re going to have a lone sleepover outside your dorm, at least let us know before we have to find out about it.” You hesitated, but the way they all looked at you the concern that lingered just beneath their teasing made something in your chest feel uncomfortably tight. “…Fine,” you relented, rolling your eyes.

“Next time, I’ll say something.” Chai Latte Cookie grinned, satisfied, while Hazelnut Biscotti just sighed in relief. Earl Grey, though, watched you for a moment longer before giving you a small nod, as if he knew there was more you weren’t saying but that he’d wait until you were ready. For now, at least, they let the matter rest. But you had no doubt they’d be keeping an even closer eye on you.

The day slipped past in a haze of half-heard lectures and half-hearted notes. You weren’t absent, your body remained in its seat, your pen moved, your eyes followed the text but your mind drifted, floating somewhere between the shimmering stars of Shadow Milk Cookie’s hair and the quiet ache lodged deep in your chest. You weren’t moping. You were just… preoccupied. When the time came for tutoring, your legs carried you forward on instinct, muscle memory guiding you through the halls as though you had no say in the matter. You considered turning back, skipping, just this once. But that would only make things worse.

A/N #2 My exam is tomorrow I feel prepared but still worried about a couple reactions...but I'm still going to do my best also once my exam is done the chains keeping me from my freedom will have been broken yippeee!!! no update tomorrow but probably Wednesday <3 anyways...thanks for being patient these past 4 days have felt like an eternity without speaking to y'all...I will be back in full force and answering questions once I'm fully liberated...my inbox is like piling up so I'll get started on that soon...ALSO I separated the paragraphs more hopefully that makes it easier to read, if not, pls lmk in the comments thanks <3 (I just realized I posted the version where i deleted and added things so some of the transitions are off UPDATE: It's FIXED this time its fr thanks for letting me know something was off in the comments <3)

anyways...

Remember to follow and reblog for more bangers 😎😎😎🔥🔥🔥🔥

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