#i finally finished this but made a bed scene instead

[witchofsparkles]

Soap groaned in front of the mirror while scrubbing his bloody face with a dampaned rag because washing it with handful of water would make his bathroom look like a murder scene. Which he just came from. And he wasn’t in the mood for more of it.

This time the mission was especially bloodier. Merchaneries popping out of everywhere and bullets flying, only the glint of a very fast knife seen and gurgling voices mixed with screams. They successfully obtained the data they went for, but the cost of it was more nightmares and horror – like always.

After freeing his face from dirt and blood, Soap showered before treating the small cuts on his face and the bullet graze on his left bicep which the meds told him to care for. Soap was already out of the infirmary when he didn’t hear anything about his life being in danger and run for the comfort of his room instead. He could care for it in solitude of the four walls of his bathroom.

He left the shower with a sour mood, nothing he would do now were to solve his post-duty problem. Not before sleeping like a dead man in a coffin for at least 8 hours. With that in mind, he mindlessly stepped towards to the mirror again, to see his face. But he had to bit down on his lips to stop himself from screaming his head off and probably gather every soldier on the base with guns ready in his room. Between the foggy surface of his mirror and the reflection of his face, he could’ve sweared he saw someone else. It was a faint shadow of a white skull, with very alive and brown eyes. When Soap blinked, it was gone.

“I’m losing it this time, ain’t I?” Soap took a step back from the mirror but his hands were gripping the sink like it was the reason why his life was a miserable mess and his brain was going out of it. “What the fuck?”

After the jump scare of his life, Soap intented to act as if nothing happened and he cleaned his injuries before going to bed. But everytime he closed his eyes, a pair of brown eyes were looking at him througha skull -a skull probably belonged to a very, very dead man. Soap shook his head and sighed into his pillow. If he were not to sleep in twenty minutes maximum, everybody in the base were gonna be in need of a psych eval because Soap was about to start making his own problems everybody’s bussiness.

At the morning, Soap run into Gaz. Gaz eyed him like he saw a ghost. “Man, what the hell? You gonna carry groceries in those bags under your eyes?”

Soap, who couldn’t sleep because of a mind so fucked up that kept showing him skulls and eyes and blood and everything bad, felt his eyebrow twitching. “No, it’s for your dead body if you don’t shut up and let me eat in peace and silence.”

Gaz made him a face while sitting across the table and put his tray on it. “I mean, we all had hell of a fight yesterday but it’s nothing new after 5 years in it and I sure hell am not looking like a mad scientist. And this is probably the first time you wanted peace and silence. Did something happen?”

Soap sighed into his breakfast. He didn’t know why a simple illusion threw him off like that. It was just for a millisecond and his mind was most llikely playing him games after a long day of fighting for his life. But something in that millisecond was keeping his mind busy and his heart heavy. After the first shock of a seeing… ‘someone’ in his mirror, that fear changed into discomfort. Like he had to do something but he couldn’t and it kept him awake at night. He was feeling very dumb for it. Also saying shit like ‘I saw someone in my mirror last night’ in army was a sure way of kicked out.

“Nothing happened. Just tired. Couldn’t sleep.” Gaz didn’t buy it, Soap could see but he couldn’t care less. Before any of them even breathed, they heard Price’s call for them. “Soap, Gaz. Follow me.”

Soap’s mind was occupied but he finally finished what Price wanted –paperwork. And more paperwork. He was actually glad for it, he finally let his thoughts scatter around and picked them up back when he was done. Soap gathered the papers and head for the door but something on the window stopped him. He faced the window, the sun was setting and the orange sky was reflecting on the glass. But it was not the scenery that caused him to stop and look. It was something on the glass -someone. That same face he saw the night before on his mirror was there again and this time he actually stared at it. Then the image disappeared like it came, in no more than a second he was looking at an ordinary window again. Soap’s fists was clenched around the papers. This time the face was there longer than before and he actually stared at the skull. Hell, they locked eyes. In his brain, there was a war going on now: He was seeing things because he was going mad or he was seeing things… because. And he didn’t know which one was worse.

Soap went straight for the bed after that, didn’t even waved back to his friends. His mind was somewhere else and his eyes were unfocused, he only realized he was back at his room when he reached to the door. He muttered to himself. “What is my problem?”

“Me?”

[unknownhomosapien]

im gonna kill for them.....they need a happy end goddamn

[starkwlkr]

Imagine helping old man logan with his claws after they get stuck like in the movie. Kissing the space between his knuckles 😭 this is all I can think about after rewatching logan recently

one more kiss, dear | old man logan

an: oh god that scene 😭 old man logan let me give you a hug <3 tried to find a gif with that scene but i couldn’t so here’s this:

mutant!reader (someone said we need more aging reader fics and I AGREE so that’s what this is)

You were folding Logan’s clothes when he stumbled in with his claws sticking out, we’ll sort of. You could see some blood on his white shirt. It hurt to see him like that. He didn’t speak to you at all and you didn’t push him to. Maybe he just wanted peace and quiet . .

He sat on the old bed, watching you as you finished folding his last shirt, that’s when you finally took a look at his hand.

“No,” Logan stopped you from grabbing his hand. Your ability to regenerate was failing like his, he certainly didn’t want you to get hurt. “I’ll do it.”

You weren’t going to take no as an answer. Ignoring Logan, you kneeled in front of him and took his hand in yours. You mentally prepared yourself for the pain. Without hesitation, you wrapped your hand around the claw that was stuck and pulled. Blood started pouring down the palm of your hand, but you didn’t care. The pain in your body seemed to fade into the background as you focused on the claw.

You could hear groaning coming from Logan, which made your heart ache more. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. . .” You whisper to him as the claw moved forward.

After what seemed like forever, you finally got the claw to its place. You stumble back, your body filled with exhaustion and pain, but all you could think about was how Logan felt. You looked up at the old man, the relief and love you saw in his gaze were both heart-wrenching and comforting.

It took a couple a minutes, but the claws eventually disappeared back into his hand. Logan winced as they went back in.

After wrapping your hand in some bandages, you took Logan’s hand again. The bloody knuckles, the wounds, the suffering . . . You didn’t want this life for him.

“I hurt you.” Was all Logan could say as he saw the bandage on your hand.

You ignored the comment, instead you wiped away some of the blood form his knuckles with a rag he had on the table beside the bed. After cleaning up the blood, you let him know you were okay by placing kisses where the claws had just come out.

“It’s okay,” you whisper to him, almost sounding like you were about to cry. “It’s okay.” Even as your own strength ebbed away, you knew your greatest comfort was simply being there for him.

“We’re going to be okay.” You placed one last kiss on his knuckle.

[starmocha]

but if it's forever, it's even better Sylus/Reader | 4610 words | AO3 “Did you just…say you were…ovulating?” A/N: I finally have a new proper desk again. And I decided to christen it by writing Sylus smut. MDNI.

Sylus had always made it explicitly known that his home was yours to do as you pleased. He had never once forbidden you from treading into any of the rooms, never once told you that you were not allowed to touch his belongings or use his staff as needed. In fact, he had actively encouraged you to make yourself at home, to treat his place as yours—a home away from home.

Yes, he had made this offer explicitly clear.

It still, however, did not prepare him for just how comfortable you had made yourself in his spare room.

Having awoken not too long ago, Sylus had originally planned to check in on his houseguest. A seemingly innocuous decision that somehow led to him standing outside the guest room, his hand gripping tightly the doorknob as he unwittingly listened to the faint buzzing noises inside the room, mixed with the wanton moans you were making.

“This…girl…” Sylus’ breath quickened, his hold on the doorknob unconsciously tightened, as his mind reeled with images of you shamelessly pleasuring yourself in one of his many beds. He knew he should leave you to…finish, but at the same time, the noises he was hearing was so enticing and sweet, like a siren’s song keeping him trapped in place.

He could hear the vibration adjusting to a different frequency, changing from quick, short bursts to an aggressive pulsation that made you moaned louder, voice reaching a new pitch. Sylus took a glance around the hallways, wondering to himself if you even realized that the walls here were in no way sound-proofed. However, if this was going to become a regular occurrence for your future visits, then perhaps, he should add that change to his home in the near future, Sylus thought wryly.

“Ah—what? No…fuck!”

The buzzing stopped abruptly and Sylus heard your immediate frustrated curse from behind the closed door. He smirked, realizing what might have happened.

He should leave.

However, he would rather mess with you instead—in more ways than one.

He gave three swift knocks, startling you immediately. “Battery died, sweetie?”

He laughed when he heard your mortified shriek.

“You heard?!”

“It’s my house,” he reminded you as if that was enough. “Let me in.”

“No!”

“Sweetie, I do have the keys to all of the rooms in this house,” he said calmly, smirking again when he heard your panicked shuffling inside the room, “I’ll come in one way or another—”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!”

Sylus crossed his arms, shaking his head in amusement as he heard more panicked noises behind the door. Even he couldn’t imagine what state of mortification you were in. He blinked when he heard you let loose a string of curses as it sounded like items were being thrown haphazardly around. Just as he was about to speak again, the door swung opened and he stared down at you, wrapped carelessly in the bed comforter, face completely scarlet, and your breathing rapid and uneven—possibly as a result from your little private time, but more than likely it was a result of being caught by, of all people, the leader of Onychinus.

“Now I know I offered my home for you to use freely, but—”

“Oh, just get in here!” you quickly yanked Sylus by the arm into the bedroom, promptly shutting the door before anyone else could catch sight of the scene. You immediately locked the door again, turned around, and slid down the door in a state of absolute humiliation. You could barely bring yourself to look at Sylus in the eyes.

“I…I can explain…”

“Go ahead,” Sylus said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, legs crossed as he stared at your pitiful state. “I’d love to know why Miss Hunter decided to play with herself in my home—and not invite me to join in the fun.”

You glared at him.

“Sweetie, it’s very impolite to glare at the host who so graciously offered you his home while yours is being fumigated for…what was it? Cockroaches?”

“Silverfish…”

“Right,” he said, “Now, sweetie, care to explain yourself?”

“Um,” you started, but honestly, you didn’t even know how to explain yourself to him exactly without making the situation worse. You wrapped the comforter tighter around yourself. “You know this comforter is very soft, Sylus. Maybe I should buy one just like this—”

“I can take you shopping for whatever you may need or want,” he interrupted, seeing through your flimsy attempt to deflect from this awkward conversation, “But only if you explain to me why you were fucking yourself silly with a sex toy just a moment ago.”

“I was…” you racked your brain. “That is to say I am…”

“Go on.”

“Well…I am…” you covered yourself completely in the comforter and the final word you said was completely muffled by your sudden blanket-cocoon.

Sylus sighed, mildly exasperated, and stood up, crossing the room quickly in just a few strides. He bent down to your height on the floor and reached forward to pull the comforter back. He frowned when you avoided eye contact with him. “What was that last word?”

“Sylus…”

“The longer you stall, the worse you’re making for yourself,” he said.

“Ovulating.”

There was an immediate deafening silence in the room as Sylus stared at you, completely unprepared and blindsided by that one word. You stared right back, cheeks burning up even more as you realized what you had just told him.

When Sylus managed to find his voice again, he started hesitantly, “Did you just…say you were…ovulating?”

You nodded.

“And that meant you…”

“I was horny.”

Sylus found his brain shutting down again by your bold confession. He cleared his throat, trying to recompose himself. “And you happened to have brought along your…toy?”

“Well…”

“And you forgot to charge it?”

You flustered and glared at him, hearing that insufferable trademark teasing tone in his voice again. “I thought I did!”

“Well, you thought wrong,” he quipped, amused, “There is one thing about this whole situation that is a bit upsetting for me.”

“Upsetting for you?!”

He nodded, unabashed. “If this kitten was feeling a little frisky, she does know I am just a few doors away, right?”

“Oh, we are not having this conversation!”

Before you could even get up, Sylus pulled you into his embrace, and he stumbled back on the floor with you in his lap. He steadied his balance with one hand behind him while his other arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. He laughed lowly, “You’re right, this comforter does feel soft.”

“What do you think you are doing?!”

He cocked his head to the side in amusement when you glared at him again. “Now, sweetie, I just had to listen to you play with yourself for god knows how long—you don’t think that did something to me?”

“I…I just told you I was ovulating…”

“Mmhmm, you did,” he agreed affably.

“Sylus…” You gasped as he lowered the comforter, revealing your nude body underneath. He smiled appreciatively at the sight while you struggled to speak under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m not on birth control…I could…I could get pregnant…”

“I know,” he said, unconcerned. Before you could respond, he smiled at you roguishly with a slight knowing tilt of his head. “Would that be a bad thing, sweetie?”

“Wh—what?”

“You pregnant with my baby,” he murmured, his hand skimming over your flat belly.

“A baby? You’re joking…”

“Oh?” Sylus looked up, smirking, “Did it sound like I was joking?”

“Sylus, quit teasing me…”

You yelped in surprise when suddenly he shifted you so you were straddling him. Sylus tightened his hold around you, the comforter falling completely off of your body as you found yourself trapped in his embrace. You shivered, unsure if it was because of the sudden cool air caressing your nude body, or more than likely, it was because of the man before you keeping you in his lap. Sylus’ face moved closer to yours, and you attempted to avert his gaze again, but he grabbed your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. You felt your stomach dropped when he spoke, his voice held none of his usual teasing.

“Sweetie, I am serious,” he murmured, loosening his grip from your chin, but you found yourself now unable to tear your eyes away from him as he spoke, “I wouldn’t mind seeing this belly of yours all round and swollen with my baby.”

He leaned in and pecked your lips, smirking briefly when you widened your eyes in surprise. He continued, “I wouldn’t mind if people knew it was me who knocked you up—in fact, I’d like that very much.”

“Sylus…”

“I wouldn’t mind if…we have a family together.”

Sylus gauged your reaction, seemingly mindful of his words for fear of scaring you away, but in his eyes, there was a strong resolve. When you didn’t outright object or react negatively to his words, Sylus smiled.

“Mm…” he pressed his forehead to yours, his warm breath brushed against your lips, “We would make such a beautiful baby together…”

Your cheeks tinged pink, but you found yourself at a loss for words, unable to rebuke him. The way he was speaking was making you tingle, feeling a tiny shred of embarrassment, but surprisingly more than that, there was a sense of enthrallment by his words.

“Half you, half me,” he continued, his eyes had brightened when he had said ‘you’. Sylus reached for your hand, guiding it to his lips. He tilted his head to the side again, smiling, “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

You nodded numbly, almost instinctively, as if his deep, smooth voice was hypnotizing you. He continued to speak, but you were barely hearing him now, lost in your own thoughts as you watched this man before you wearing an expression of almost pure joy. You weren’t sure if you had ever seen Sylus as happy as he was now talking about having a baby with you.

The more he spoke, though, the more the thought became enticing to you. Sylus loved you unconditionally and wholeheartedly. All you had to do was ask and he would move Heaven and Earth for you. The depths of his love for you would extend and magnify a thousandfold for the child you two would have together.

Dependable, protective, loving—could you ask for anything more in a partner?

You watched him, seeing his large hand covered your entire tummy, and you could see the almost wistful look in his crimson eyes. Your head tilted a little in wonder, remembering that Sylus had never once brought up the subject of family—his own growing up or even the prospective future. This was the closest the two of you had ever treaded on the topic, and the fact that he was the one who had suggested it first made you realized that he had pondered about the matter before, enough so that he had decided that his future was you and the family you would have together.

You swallowed slowly, feeling a swarm of butterflies fluttered in your belly. You were nervous, a little scared, but more than anything, you had never felt surer of what you were about to say than now.

Your future was with him. That was all you knew, and all you wanted.

“Sylus…”

“What is it, sweetie?”

“I…” you swallowed hard, face flushed with arousal as you locked eyes with the man in front of you, “I…need you…to fuck a baby into me.”

Sylus’ breath hitched the moment those words left your mouth. He steadied his breathing the best he could, but he could feel his heart racing at the thought, at the plea in your soft voice. “Is that what you want?” His words were barely above a whisper, as he could feel himself hardening at the thought of impregnating you with his baby. He continued, the rasp in his deep voice noticeable, “You want me to knock you up, sweetie?”

Just from the sound of his voice alone had you clenching, and you nodded. You had already decided on this, already spoken the words out loud. There was no going back now. You wanted this.

“Use your words,” he commanded, “I want you to say it.”

I need you to say it, his eyes seemed to implore you.

His hands were already around your waist, pulling you up flushed against his body. Your hands rested on his toned chest and you gazed up into those scarlet eyes darkening with desire, the mere sight stealing your breath away as your body trembled with anticipation of what was going to happen tonight the moment you reaffirm your earlier plea.

“I want…”

You could feel Sylus’ fingers digging into your hips, there was an air of impatience around him as he waited for you finish your sentence. You could almost hear the sharp hiss of breath from his barely parted lips as he gazed at you intently.

“…your baby,” you finished, “I want to…have your baby.”

The moment that last word left your lips, you gasped sharply as Sylus immediately lifted you into his strong arms, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist for support as he carried you to the bed. Within seconds, he had you pinned down on the bed, his larger body hovered over you. “That’s a dangerous thing to tell me, sweetheart,” he murmured, his finger tipped your chin up, exposing your neck to him, “Because now I have no intention of letting you leave this bed until you’re knocked up with my baby.”

You bit down on your lips, holding back another gasp as you felt his large hands trailed down your body, feeling familiar curves with practiced ease. “Ah—!” You squirmed when his lips trailed down your chest to your belly, his hands caressing the flat abdomen with revere.

“Your body is already so gorgeous,” he murmured, kissing your belly again, unaware of your reddened cheeks, “And it’ll become even more beautiful when our baby grows inside you…”

You felt your heart skipped a beat. The way he was speaking as if you were already pregnant made you blushed in embarrassment. You squirmed again, but Sylus immediately gripped your hips, keeping you in place.

“What…” you racked your brain for words, feeling suddenly insecure by his keen attention to your body. When Sylus looked up at you questioningly, you couldn’t help but frowned a little, “You’re just saying that…men don’t really find pregnant women attractive…”

He laughed at your words, making you even more embarrassed. He shook his head in disagreement. “Sweetie, how can a man not find the woman carrying his baby the most beautiful being in the world?”

Sylus loomed over you, his lips hovering above yours as his eyes gazed down at you with deep affections. His hand caressed your cheek in comfort as he spoke, “Sweetie, I can barely restrain myself from touching you now.”

“Hmm?” You looked at him quizzically, making him smiled wider.

“I won’t be able to control myself,” he continued, brushing his lips against yours, “Mm, I’m gonna want to feel you all the time—feel our baby in your womb.”

“Sylus…you’re making me embarrassed now…”

“I’m just stating facts,” he responded, brushing your flyaway hair out of your face, “So trust me, sweetie, I mean it when I say you are the most beautiful woman in my life.”

As if to prove his point, he covered you in endless kisses, responding to your pleased gasps and sighs with his own knowing hums. “We’re going to make such a beautiful baby,” he murmured. “I can’t wait…”

“Sy—”

“Can’t wait to see you grow, to see you swell…” he continued to mumble lazily into your skin, his lips leaving trails of kisses all over. “My beautiful hunter…my beautiful…goddess…”

From his tantalizing words to his expert ministrations, you could feel yourself throbbing, aching to be filled by him. You tugged at his shirt, and he laughed at your impatience before he undressed himself, taking off piece by piece as slow as possible to further tease you, the amusement on his face a complete opposite to your frustration. When the last article of clothing—his boxer briefs—was removed, he allowed you a moment to rake your eyes over his toned body. Sylus ran his hand over his hair, pushing it back as he looked at you with a look of pure lust.

“God,” he muttered, “This is happening…”

He nudged your thighs apart, pleased that you were already so wet, willing, and ready for him. He grasped his hardened member, giving it a few strokes as he prepared to line himself up to your waiting entrance.

“Already this wet, sweetie?” he questioned, his tone light and teasing, “From your little solo playtime, or perhaps, me?”

He didn’t even leave you enough time to respond. You gasped and arched forward, feeling just the tip pressing in. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bracing yourself for the massive intrusion.

“Answer me, sweetie,” he murmured, letting more of himself in.

“Y—you!”

He hummed in satisfaction.

You gasped as more of him entered, the feeling of how massive he was bringing tears of both pain and pleasure to your eyes. “Oh—oh, god!” you whimpered when he bottomed out, filling you completely.

“My sweet little cock-warmer,” he murmured, planting more sweet kisses down your neck.

“S-Sylus…please…”

“Please what, sweetie?” he asked, though you both knew he was well aware of what you desired in that moment. When you didn’t respond, he nipped your left earlobe, his sinfully deep voice sending shivers down your spine and straight to your core as he whispered, “Say it, and I’ll give you everything you desire, sweetie.”

You panted softly, almost convinced that with just a few right words, his devilish voice alone could make you cum, but right now, in this particular moment, with his cock situated so perfectly inside you, you needed more.

“Please…”

He raised a brow, an amused smirk tugging at his lips as his crimson eyes gleamed in satisfaction at seeing you already so helpless and needy. You could feel his large hands gripping your hips tighter, fingers digging into your flesh, almost as if he was waiting for you to break the final restraint he held.

“…Fuck me,” you uttered at last, voice soft and vulnerable, “Please, Sylus, fuck me…”

You gasped suddenly as he pulled out slowly and then slammed back in, that first thrust already making you see stars and ripping out a cry of pure pleasure from your throat.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, already knowing the answer as he set a steady pace, “Is this what you need, sweetie?”

“Yes!” you yelled out, arms encircled around his neck tighter as you let him take control.

“Doing so well,” Sylus crooned, his thrusts steadily becoming harder, faster, “What a good—hnngh—fucking—hah—girl you are…taking me—ah—so well…”

You were barely aware of your back touching the mattress again as he lowered you back down, taking you in deeper. Your arms loosened around his neck, fingers finding their way to grip the bedsheets. You tossed your head to the side, moaning when his mouth took in your nipple, suckling on it gently at first before his skilled tongue swirled over the sensitive nub, the sensation was enough to have you arching up into him again. He pulled away, making you whined in frustration at the sudden loss of attention, but just as quickly his hand took over to massage your breast, keeping you moaning helplessly for him as he teased and pinched your nipple, feeling it firming under his expert touch.

“Your breasts will fill up with milk for our baby,” he murmured, already picturing you nursing his baby. He smiled at the thought, unable to contain his excitement. He squeezed your breast harder and you cried from the feeling of his calloused hand on your soft flesh.

Amidst the pleasurable stimulations of him massaging your breast as he drove himself into you, you had a thought—a need, really. “I…” you felt your cheeks warming up again, embarrassed or otherwise, you weren’t sure anymore, but you still voiced your newfound desire aloud, “Sylus…I want…”

“Hmm?” He tilted his head a little, his gentle smile remaining as he waited for you to finish your thought. With his thick member so deep inside you, you could barely think straight, your focus shifting back and forth between the feel of him and his arousing words that spawned your new thought.

“I want you…to have the…first taste.”

His smile faltered. “What?” Sylus paused, but there was an intense look of intrigue in his eyes, never once expecting such words to leave your lips, but the bold suggestion had him excited by the prospect. He watched you intensely, waiting for you to repeat the sweet offer and confirming that he had not misheard you.

“My milk,” you clarified, face flushed red, “I’d want…you to taste it first…”

“You want me to…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence as he laughed, delighted by this surprising offer. The look he gave you was a mix of arousal and absolute adoration. “Oh, sweetie,” his voice was breathless as he pulled you in for another intense kiss, “You are going to be my fucking demise.”

You whined against his lips, your voice swallowed by him eagerly. The overwhelming stimulations of his relentless kisses and renewed strength had you fumbling with your thoughts and words as the only thing you could focus on was just the feel of him touching you—inside you.

“Oh god, oh god!” you whimpered when he started moving faster, driving into you harder, deeper. “Ah—Sy-Sylus!” You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the beginning of the familiar tightening that signified your impending release.

Lost in your focus on the feeling of your approaching climax, you didn’t even notice that Sylus’ movements had become more hurried, graceless, and eager. His eyes greedily drank in the sight of you beneath him losing yourself to this state of euphoria. His mouth parted, panting, as he gripped your hips harder, enough that there would be bruise marks by morning. He could barely hold back a groan as he felt your walls tightening around him.

This is it.

You were so fertile right now, the perfect moment for him to fill your womb full of his virile seed. Watching you unraveled before him, Sylus’ eyes darkened with pure lust, a haze washing over him as he was consumed with only one thought and goal.

She’s perfect.

So perfect.

Gonna fill her up.

Knock her up.

Mine, she’s all mine.

Fill that pretty little cunt.

Pump her full.

Breed her.

You screamed in pleasure as without a word, Sylus pumped you full of his seed, emptying into you so much that there was no way you wouldn’t get pregnant from this encounter.

“Sylus!” Your legs wrapped around his waist tighter, pulling him in deeper, needing him to fill you completely. Your walls tightened around him, squeezing and milking all of him for your womb. You were going to get pregnant. You were going to have his baby.

Sylus’ baby.

You whined and sobbed into his shoulder as you felt both his release dripping down your thighs and the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through your spent body. His arms wrapped securely around your waist, keeping you held against him, close enough that you felt all of his body heat and the warm sweat that glistened on his skin.

“Good…girl,” he gasped, rubbing your back up and down as you came down from your high, “Such a good girl for me. Only me.”

Sylus lowered you back down on the plush mattress, your half-lidded eyes gazed up at him, meeting his pleased smile. You lay on the bed boneless, drained, and satisfied, feeling his heavy body still hovering over you as you listened to his deep voice murmuring, unsure whether he was speaking to you anymore or to himself.

“…Mine. Mine to have.”

Mine to breed.

He stared down at you, almost in a state of awe, the realization of what had happened made his heart speed up. His eyes focused on your belly, already imagining that it was going to grow bigger, rounder, in the coming months with his child in your fertile womb. There was no way you wouldn’t get pregnant from this session, but even if you didn’t, Sylus had already planned on fucking you until you showed the first sign of pregnancy. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he could even restrain himself from taking you even when you were round and full with his child.

“Oh, sweetie…”

You looked up at him doe-eyed, making his heart softened further. For all of his talks about his lack of luck, he knew he had hit the jackpot with you. The greatest fortune of his life was meeting you, and he was willing to risk all of the good luck in his lifetime to keep you in his life by his side.

Sylus’ cheek brushed against your head before he leaned inward and pressed his lips there. His hands continued to rub you up and down while you both recovered from your shared climaxes. “Shh, I got you, I got you, sweetie…”

When he pulled out of you, Sylus laid down on his back on the bed, dragging you to lay on top of him. He continued to hold you close to him, clearly having no intention of letting you out of his embrace any time soon. Just as well, because all you wanted in that moment was to remain close to him—skin to skin and heartbeats in-sync.

“Sylus…”

He hummed softly, his hands still rubbing your back gently. You could feel your heart calming down, your breathing returning to normal. You rested your head on his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall as his own breathing evened out.

The world suddenly felt so still and quiet, as if you and him were the only occupants remaining. You raised your head from its place on his chest, eyes widened when you made out his loving smile. You sighed happily when he caressed your cheek and his thumb brushed over your lips.

Your heart fluttered as he spoke, his normally deep voice a light, soft murmur:

“My pretty hunter.”

“You’re so full of it…”

He laughed and shook his head, amused by your weak attempt to counter him. His eyes wandered down, lingering on your flat stomach once more. He looked pleased.

“Your body is going to change so much,” he husked and your heart skipped a beat once more, “It’ll be all my fault that you’re nice and swollen with my baby.”

“Sy-Sylus!”

He chuckled again and pulled you deeper into his embrace. Your cheek pressed against his chest again, his large hand resting gently, but firmly, on the back of your head keeping you in place. Your stomach did flips when he spoke again:

“Rest for now, sweetie, the night is just beginning.”

“What?”

He laughed. “Oh, sweetie, we are just getting started,” he said, eyes twinkling in amusement when he caught sight of the pretty blush rising on your cheeks, “I meant what I said earlier: you are not leaving this bed until you are pregnant with my baby.”

You started to protest, but he captured your lips with his, parting just long enough to whisper: “I’m going to enjoy you all night long, sweetheart.”

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Metanoia ;

Aemond Targaryen x Transmigrated!Strong!Reader

>> Chapter I : The Beginning.

Summary: "Be careful what you wish for" is what everyone says, you realise that you should've taken them seriously when you find yourself reincarnated as a character in the show who never existed.

WARNINGS: CANON TYPICAL INCEST, CONTAINS SPOILERS OF F&B, S1 AND S2, reader's appearance isn't described, only the fact that she is a strong, you can imagine her however you like, the picture used in the header is only to capture the feel of the story. A/N: divider credits to @cafekitsune

masterlist // next

“Jesus Christ, fuck this show, fuck everything, what the fuck is wrong with the writing?” You exclaim in annoyance after witnessing the scene that was supposed to be heavily impactful be butchered.

“That is the most anticlimactic death scene I've ever witnessed, this has to be a joke.” You furiously ramble. You decided to give House of The Dragon a try after your friend had recommended it, the show currently has released three seasons, with the fourth season in production, you thoroughly enjoyed season one and decided to binge all the seasons.

However, everything started to go downhill from season two, yet you still decided to watch for the sake of your favourite characters, daemon and aemond, only to witness the battle that was supposed to be intense and stressful get finished in the span of two minutes.

You stared at the screen, rolling your eyes in annoyance as you witnessed Aemond falling into the lake along with Vhagar, Daemon was knocked off Caraxes too and fell to his death.

They wrapped up the battle in mere moments, which made you angry as you were so hyped up to see them fight.

“Ugh, I never hated a show more than this, waste of my time, they did season one so well, what happened to rest? I did not expect this.” You sigh in frustration, feeling like you just wasted your time.

“If only… If only I ever get a chance, I'd change entire plot and script because fuck this.” You lay down on your sofa, staring at the ceiling, the show still playing in the background. You recollected the entire plot in your head, thinking of every moment in the show, trying to come up with an easy solution.

“If only they had married Jace to Helaena, it would have been peaceful.. Or at least if they had an older daughter married to Aegon or Aemond.” You mumble, but then shake your head, “What am I saying? Things still would've been complicated anyway.” You wonder in disbelief at your own words.

You yawned loudly, stretching out your limbs and blinking your eyes rapidly, your vision began to get blurry and you sighed in content, finally willingly wanting to sleep after you forced yourself to stay up all night to binge the series.

Your vision darkened slowly as you closed your eyelids, head spinning as you took slow breaths of air, cool breeze brushes past your cheeks and before you know it, you're slowly succumbing into slumber.

You blink your eyes open, realising you fell asleep, you sigh stirring on the soft sheets, entangling them between your legs.

Soft sheets?

Your sofa doesn't have any sheets.

You quickly blink again, taking the note of a translucent veil hanging from above, surrounding the bed you're in, creating a curtain around your bed.

Why were you in bed?

You sit up looking around, taking in your surroundings, your eyes widening in fear as you don't recognize this room at all, ancient tapestries, brown wooden furniture, and the source of light being only from the candle.

Have you been kidnapped?

You look down at your body, noticing you are in a white nightgown instead of the shorts you fell asleep in. Your heart begins to race and you panic, unable to understand where you are or how you got there. You steady your breathing, wondering if someone kidnapped you to play a role in a mediaeval film of theirs? But why would anyone do that?

The sound of metal clanking harshly against the floor and a small scream made your head turn the direction it came from, the liquid in the decanter spilling out rapidly as the person behind the fallen cutlery stood in shock.

“The princess is conscious!” She yells loudly before turning around and running out of the room in a hurry.

Princess?

Is this a prank?

You barely have any moment to think when you hear the sound of multiple footsteps coming from outside to your direction, you could almost feel the ground rumbling, noting that everyone was rushing to this room.

You push the veil to the side and stand up, getting out the bed and examining your surroundings, looking at the sigils and the paintings. All of this looked familiar somehow.

A small gasp echoed through the room, coming from the entrance, which made you turn around to take a look at who was in the room once again. Your eyes widened at the sight.

A lady with platinum blonde hair, blue eyes stood in front of you, someone who resembled Rhaenyra and next to her stood Jace and Luke breathing heavily, looking at you in shock.

Did the house of the dragon cast kidnap you to play a prank on you?

That sounds too unreasonable.

“Oh my sweet daughter!” Rhaenyra rushes over to you, embracing you tightly, tears flow down her cheeks as she peppers you with kisses “I-i i cannot believe this, you finally woke up after many years.” She sobs, you look at her questioningly. “Sister.” Jacaerys speaks up, coming to you and joining the embrace of you and Rhaenyra, Luke joins in as well.

“We missed you.” Jace says and you stare at all of them confused.

This has to be a joke.

They notice the expression on your face and their faces immediately drop, “Your grace, the princess woke up after many years, she might not be able to recognise you.” The maester chimes in, Rhaenyra nods, sniffling yet understanding your condition.

“Emma? Is this a joke?” You question, referring to the actor of Rhaenyra, “I’m not Aemma darling, she is your grandmother.” Rhaenyra corrects you. “I think she must be confusing the names of everyone due to her hazy memory.” The maester tries explaining, you sigh.

Yeah this must be a dream.

You shake your head gently and immediately slap yourself to wake yourself up.

“Ouch!” You yell in pain, cupping the cheek you slapped yourself on, Rhaenyra is mortified and the guards rush in and hold your arms back so you don't further hurt yourself.

This is not a dream.

You can’t feel pain in your dreams and you will wake up right before impact.

You look at Rhaenyra’s face, she is as real as a living person, standing right in front of you.

She looks just like Emma. of course, after all Rhaenyra is indeed played by them.

But this is not them.

She is not Emma

You can feel the vibe, it's very different.

You’ve met Emma before in costume, yet they did not give off the vibes as what Rhaenyra is giving off right now, after all, when you met them; it was just a show, but now it's your reality.

Did you die in your world?

You’ve definitely transmigrated into this show, but as who?

Did Rhaenyra ever have a daughter? You knew she didn't.

“Mirror, get me a mirror.” You ask and they look at you questioningly, your form begins to shake as the realisation is too overwhelming, there are many questions in your mind, “Please!” You cry, and immediately a servant moves and rushes over with a mirror.

Your eyes widen.

It's you.

You had not become someone else, but you remained as yourself. “What is my name?” You ask, “Y/N.” Rhaenyra replies. Your mind begins to spin, you are in another world as yourself, you have not possessed anyone else, which means your body must’ve disappeared from your world.

You try to stay calm in this situation, breathing heavily, “You are?” You ask, wanting to reconfirm, you watch as Rhaenyra's face crumples into that of a sad face, probably feeling hurt that her own daughter doesn't recognise her.

“I'm your mother, you are my eldest daughter, they—” She points at Jace, Luke and Joffrey, “—are your younger siblings.” You turn towards them.

You nod, pretending to play the part while you figure out everything. “I'm sorry, I do not remember.” You apologise and Rhaenyra shakes her head, “It is alright, you have been unconscious since the past six years, this is better than losing my daughter.” She replies.

“Six years… Did I fall unconscious after Aemond lost his eye?” You think out loud and Rhaenyra looks at you in shock, “You remember him?” She asks and you clear your throat, “It's hazy, my memory.” You answer back.

“Your grace, the event was probably traumatic for her, hence why she can remember it in parts.” The maester explains it to Rhaenyra, you mentally thank the maester for covering up for you always.

You noticed how they were all dressed up, looked as if they were about to leave but their plans were cut short, and you recognize this gown of Rhaenyra.

It was the gown she wore when she left for King's Landing, in order to settle the matter of Luke's right to driftmark. “You guys were departing somewhere?” You ask, wanting to really confirm it, “Hm? Huh, Yes, We were about to leave for King's Landing.” Jacaerys answers your question.

“Can I tag along?” You blurt the question.

“.. Tag along?” Lucerys repeats your words in confusion, your language confusing him.

“I mean to say, can I come along?” You ask the question in a proper manner, Rhaenyra shakes her head, “No- you've just woken up, you might still be weak- I cannot risk-”

“Mother! I am perfectly fine!” You cut her off, breaking free from the guards hands and running around the room, doing jumping jacks, showing her that you aren't weak and are perfectly capable of physical activity.

Rhaenyra watches in shock, seeing you move like this but she chuckles, shaking her head in comic disbelief, “I guess she has not changed after all.” The maester comments which makes Jace and Luke smile.

“Very well, Pack the princess’ belongings, and get her ready for departure, we will depart two days later.” Rhaenyra orders the maids and you smile at her.

“But mother, I do not have many dresses—”

“You do, I had them tailored every year, whenever you grew, hoping that you would wake up.” She replies softly and you just then realise how Rhaenyra loves her children.

“The maesters said that you might not ever wake up, and that your body will be stunted from growth, yet… I'm glad their predictions never came true.” She smiles gently at you, you smile back.

The maids come in with a bath as everyone leaves, some of them begin packing your belongings. You notice how your body doesn't look how a person in a coma state should be looking especially in the mediaeval times, but instead you seem to be well taken care of, treated as if you were alive.

The maids quickly finish your bath and dress you up, you have to pretend to get used to this atmosphere and era even though you're highly uncomfortable, the mere thought of having servants made you feel bad.

And with that, the night fell, you couldn't sleep thinking about how you're going to deal with everything, could you really prevent war from happening? It happens due to a misunderstanding in the show right? What if the misunderstanding doesn't occur? Your mind was filled with such thoughts through the whole night.

In King's Landing.

“My queen, Rhaenyra, has sent a letter saying that their arrival will be delayed further.” The master sums up the contents of the letter in the council room, in front of Aemond who had been called by Alicent for an urgent matter.

“Why so?” Alicent asks, furrowing her brows.

“Princess Y/N had woken up from her unconscious state.”

An ear piercing shattering sound of glass is heard through the entire room, when turned to look at the origin, It is known that Aemond had dropped the wine glass he was drinking from.

“Y/N is awake?” Aemond asks the maester.

“Yes my prince.” The maester replies.

Aemond's heart begins to pound in his chest loudly, his mind spiralling at the thought of you finally waking up all these years later.

“Please excuse me.” Aemond gets up from the chair, excusing himself from the council and leaving the room, his brain occupied with the thoughts of you.

There wasn't a day where Aemond hadn't thought of you, he would at least think about you once a day- the news of you waking up from unconsciousness made the adrenaline in his body rush.

He felt like a hungry snake that had been starved for many years who at last found a prey to feast on, he felt like a drought-stricken land finally receiving rainfall, he felt like a garden void of any flowers which started to bloom once again.

He was thrilled.

He reminisces of the fond memories you both shared, he could never ever forget them, smiling at the thought of you.

He wondered if you had changed or remained the same.

Whatever it was, he couldn't wait.

He couldn't wait to receive you.

[blossomingmoonlight]

⭑ Redamancy ⭑

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!reader

A/N: Based of scene in Domina if ykyk, also don't know if I like this one yet because it was written in the middle of the night :)

Warning: NSFW, 18+ mdni, making out, catching aegon getting sucked, oral (f receiving), vaginal and creampie (ofc).

Summary: During a brief walk at night you catch your eldest brother in a comprimising position with one of the servants. He obviously has to be a good brother and show you what that pleasure feels like.

Word count: 2K

It was a cold, breezy summer night. The temperature finally had dropped after such a scorching day. You twisted and turned in your bed, sleep didn’t come easily to you lately and it was affecting your daily duties. After a while you gave up, throwing the sheets of your body, your long silvery hair fell down your side. Your feet touched the cold stone floor beneath you and you walked over to your chaise, where your robe was draped over.

Maybe a walk would clear your mind. Now clad in your thin white nightgown and robe you slipped in some shoes and opened the door of your chamber. Your personal guard Ser Arryck immediately stood straight and asked where you were heading off to at such a late hour. You explained your insomnia and told him you’d go for a walk around the Red Keep. Nothing to worry about, you wouldn't go out or leave without guards. So you started your walk, shivering slightly at every breeze that flowed through the hallways. 

Deep in thought you didn’t notice you had wandered close to your eldest brother’s quarters, your mind on if you should perhaps alert the maesters of your troubles. But you quickly snapped back to reality when you noticed there were no guards around. How could they possibly leave Aegon’s chambers unguarded at night? Maybe you should check up on him, usually he is quite the night owl and you often went to him when you couldn’t find sleep, sharing some wine and a laugh with him.

You always had a good relationship with your brother, you were the youngest daughter of the King and Queen and one year older than Aemond. He always told you you were his favourite despite his sister-wife Helaena. But you knew Helaena didn’t have much interest in Aegon either. But what you didn’t know was how much Aegon liked you. He always knew he shouldn’t act on his desires, instead taking them out on servant girls and whores at brothels but every time he finished with them it was your name he muttered as he came.Your name he moaned and whined as he fisted his cock at night. 

Tonight was no different, it seemed his desire for you was worse in the summer, when you wore thinner, more exposing dresses to fight off the heat. As you approached his door with your fist raised, ready to knock you stopped at the sounds of soft moaning coming from his chamber. It didn’t sound like he was in trouble or pain but he was clearly awake. Curiosity took hold of you and you opened the door as silently as possible, you didn’t want him to know you were here just yet. Peeking inside you could see Aegon lying on his bed with a servant girl between his legs.

You could hear his soft moaning and groaning as well as the sucking noises of the servant girl. Clearly she was pleasing him, you could feel the jealousy as his panting became more frequent. You don’t know what came over you but you silently opened the door to fully reveal yourself. Aegon's eyes snapped to your barely clothed frame and made eye contact with you. Sitting up straighter his hand held the servant girl in place. The erotic sight of him, getting pleased while looking at you made you pant along with him. Your breath shortening as his mouth opened to speak, but he didn’t. 

Only moans left his pretty lips and they grew louder the longer he looked at you. Your chest heaving as you could feel the pleasure yourself. Thighs becoming wet, pressing them together for relief. Never had you felt this way. Aegon started to almost choke on air as he gave out some final groans. Then stammered out your name as he finished inside the girl’s mouth.

You finally realised what was happening and turned on your heels to run back to your chamber. The amount of times your mother had warned you about the sins of pleasure whirling through your mind. When you had reached your chamber Ser Arryck bid you goodnight as you went to sleep that night with an ache between your thighs. 

The next couple of days were filled with tension and shame. You felt like everyone knew what happened, what you had witnessed. Of course this wasn’t true but you were terrified of what Aegon was thinking. It also didn’t help that your mind uncontrollably went back to that night. The sounds he was making sounded so heavenly. And you couldn’t help but picture yourself in the servant's place.

Four days later it was another cool summer night. You were reading in bed with some candles still lit so you could make out what was written on the pages. You stopped mid sentence as you could hear chattering outside your door. Oh no, Aegon…and? Ser Arryk? This couldn’t go well. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of some soft knocks on your door. “Come in.” You softly called out. 

Aegon stepped inside your chamber, a chalice of wine in one hand and two cups in his other with of course a big grin on his face. Like he always had when wine was nearby. “What did you say to Ser Arryk?” You were too curious not to ask. “Nothing to worry about sister, just if he could leave us a private moment. For some well needed…sibling time.” Aegon smiled as he put the cups down on your side table and immediately filled them. 

A content sigh leaving his lips as he brought a cup over to you. Grabbing his own as well, he joined you on your bed. Of course your mind instantly had to go back to that night. “Aegon I-” He cut you off before you could say more. “Don’t.” He looked hungrily at your chest. “You know what you saw- and heard. And I know what I saw, I saw how you looked at me, how it turned you on.” He smiled and took a big chug of his wine. 

It encouraged you to drink some as well. Knowing that the alcohol would make this easier. It always seemed to be for Aegon. “However I would be willing to bet you don’t even know what that means. But you know what pleasure means, don't you sweet sister?” He put his cup on the side table and went to sit closer to you. Putting your wine cup aside yourself, you also closed the book laying in your lap. “I guess I do. But it is a sin, mother said so. Septa Luelle said so.” 

You didn’t even look at him. Book now on the side table as well. “Did they now? And what would they know about us Targaryens? We don’t answer to gods nor men. We do whatever we want. So if we want to give each other pleasure, we will.” He pulled the covers of your legs and moved next to you. His hand grazing your lips as he made you look at him. Both of your breathing getting heavier.

Finally he gave in and forced his lips on yours. Both drunk on wine and desire. You tried to keep up with his movements but after a while you could feel his wet tongue sliding across your bottom lip. Not quite catching up on what he wanted, he caressed your breast through your thin nightgown. And as expected, you gasped which gave him a perfect excuse to entwine his tongue with yours.

With some time you got a better grip on how he wanted you to kiss him. How to mimic his movements and find your own rhythm. His hands were starting to wander more, getting more impatient by the minute. He parted his lips from yours, allowing the both of you to catch your breath. “Do you know how many times I had to pay extra to get a silver haired whore. Just so I could pretend I was fucking you? But now, you are finally mine to ruin.” He rasped.

He positioned you to lay down as he himself got on top of you. You could feel something hard poke your thighs. Aegon mouthed and nipped at your neck, desperate to touch every inch of you. “Let me show you exactly what it felt like, let me show you true pleasure.” He groaned in your neck, hands already busying themselves with hiking up your nightgown and removing your smallclothes.

Aegon's lips went down and as he got closer to your already slick cunt, the more you felt like you were about to explode. The effect this man had on you was beyond words. No man could ever make you feel this euphoric and he knew it too. He wasted no time in devouring your cunt, lapping and sucking at your core. Making you gasp in shock, this new sensation was so mind numbing and electric, that you couldn’t even think about who could hear you outside your door.

“Aeg- please- it feels so weird-” You panted out as Aegon had no intention of stopping. He flicked his tongue faster over your clit and you had to grip the sheets beneath you to feel some type of control. The only things coming out of your mouth now were chants of your brother's name and moans. 

Mere moments later, he added a finger inside you. Your tight cunt sucking him in deliciously, making him groan at the thought of putting his cock inside you. With his expert finger and tongue he had you screaming his name in a final plea and made you see the heavens themselves. 

You were trying to calm down, to process what just happened. But Aegon was ever impatient and removed his clothes as fast as he possibly could. When he had also removed his small clothes, you finally really laid your eyes upon him. His chest was a perfect mix of muscled with a little belly from all the wine. But what made your eyes widen was what hung between his legs- or rather stood. 

“That is my cock, my love. And it will make you and me both feel so much pleasure.” Aegon grinned as he saw your lips curl into a smile. It was thick and veiny, precum dribbling from the tip. “Please Aegon, take me. I can’t wait any longer.” He captured your lips with his as he held his cock by the base so he could guide it inside you.

His tip sliding through your folds to find your entrance. He groaned at the sensation, his tip entering your tight hole. You grimaced at the feeling, it wasn’t extremely painful but wasn’t pleasant either. “It will feel better in a moment, I promise. I would never hurt you.” He kissed your lips at that and slowly slid deeper inside you. Not being able to control his own moans. 

He stilled at the hilt and waited for your cunt to accustom to his thick size. He never stopped kissing and assuring you. For such a lust filled, drunken prince he was awfully kind to his favourite sister. Once he got the okay from you he started to slowly move, hissing at the feeling of your walls around him. He had never felt more blessed and happy in his life.

As your moans grew as well he started to lose composure, pounding into you faster and harder. Chanting your name while he buried his face in your neck. Your own arms wrapped around his back as your legs wrapped around his lower back and ass. Letting out stuttered moans and gasps yourself. “I’m not going to last long in your perfect cunt sister-” He groaned. The vibration of his voice against your neck adding to the sensation. 

And he was right, mere moments after his movements faltered and he filled you with his cum with one last moan of your name. The white spend filling you up. He gave two more soft thrusts to really empty himself and then rolled off of you. Letting out a content sigh, he looked at you. Your silver hair splayed out, still a fucked out expression on your face. And he never thought you more beautiful.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

A (not so) little secret

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

Summary: even though you and Spencer have kept yours private pretty well, one night the universe seems determined to let everyone know.

warnings: established relationship but still secret, a mention of sex, and some references. I think that's all

The sound of the phone ringing pulled you out of your sweet and recent dream and when you opened your eyes you needed a moment to get your bearings. You were on a soft bed, a thin sheet covering your half-naked body, and the room smelled of lavender emanating from a humidifier. When you moved a bit you collided with a warm lump and that was the piece to finish building the scene: you were at Spencer’s house. You opened your eyes and that's when you saw that it was the purple phone on the nightstand that was ringing, next to the alarm clock with bright letters that said 4:00 am.

You had ended up in the man's apartment after a long day at work with the promise of ordering food at home and resting for a while, but at some point the kissing on the couch escalated to ending up in bed; it wasn't something you complained about, of course. He always took care of making you feel so good and had a resistance that came to surprise you, so you enjoyed each other for a long time. You were a little sore (in a good way) and exhausted by the end, but the thought that you would be able to rest up late the next morning had comforted you greatly. You would have fallen asleep barely two hours before then, but since the noise didn't seem to disturb your boyfriend's sleep and you were closer to the device, you decided to reach out to pick up the call.

"Hello?" you sighed sleepily. You couldn't imagine who could want something at that hour, although the fear that it was a call from Bennington Sanitarium about Diana's health made you think it would be irresponsible not to answer.

"Reid?" asked the voice on the other end of the line and you recognized it immediately.

"Hotch?" you murmured, a little more lucid. As soon as the last name was out of your mouth, you realized how stupid you'd been to answer instead of waking Spencer up for him to answer. It was your boss, calling the landline of one of his agents, and it turns out that it was you who had answered.

“Y/L/N?” he spoke again, sounding confused. "Are you with Reid?"

You were silent for a second as panic washed over you, your brain working at full speed to think of what to say.

“Huh… yes. I didn’t feel very well and he said that I could stay here” you confessed. Technically it was the truth, although you preferred to spare yourself the intimate details. 

Even though it wasn't a crime to go out with unit mates, if it was a little… how can I put it? Immoral maybe? It could take away from your objectivity in cases and it was definitely a distraction at work, but when it came to Spencer Reid, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't help it.

You had already been together for a few months. You realized you had feelings for him after he offered to stay with you for some days in the hospital to care for the gunshot wound that grazed your shoulder during an unfortunate event. It was so nice to be under his care, he brought you delicious food all the time, every day he bought new flowers for the next vase and always made sure you were comfortable.

Probably the daily stress had clouded your vision a bit, but in an environment so far removed from all your work, it was when you realized how wonderful Spencer could be, and let's be honest, men like that don't grow on trees in droves. It didn't take long for you to buy him a drink, just to thank him for all he'd done for you, but then the dates became recurring. One night the two of you finally talked about what you wanted for your future and then decided to start something formal.

At first it was easy to hide it in the office, after all no one would have reason to suspect anything. Morgan was annoying sometimes, thinking that he was the only one who noticed how you looked at each other, but the others hardly noticed. The problem was when, over the months, the connection between you strengthened romantically and physically, coupled with the sweet nicknames with which you called Spencer in private that on more than one occasion almost slipped from your lips.

By this point you were enjoying being with him so much that you honestly didn't care what the team might think about the relationship, you thought hiding it was more of a habit than a necessity, but you didn't know if Spencer felt the same way. You hadn't really needed to talk to him about it, at least not until now.

“Okay, then tell him that something urgent came up. I need you both to come to the office as soon as possible because in a few hours we are flying to Boston."

"Okay, we'll be there"

"Fine"

The communication was cut off there and when you turned after hanging up the phone you noticed that Spencer had already woken up, probably by the sound of your voice having a chat. He looked so cute and sleepy that you couldn't help but caress his face with your palm to help him wake up.

"What's going on?"

“It was Hotch. They need us in the office”

"I figured," he grumbled, stretching a little to shake the numbness out of his body.

“He realized that I am here. I'm sorry"

"It's okay, love. Don't worry about it,” he said, totally calm, as he stood up and gave you an absent-minded kiss on the cheek. He got up and started rummaging through the closet for something decent to wear over the black boxer shorts he was wearing, while you rubbed your face with your open palms "How do you feel?"

"Tired" you laughed, unconsciously covering your torso with the sheet. You still didn't feel confident that he would see you naked for so long, even though you had already had sex on considerable occasions "So you're not angry?"

"Angry? Why should I be?"

"Because he knew I'm here" you answered softly and he stopped what he was doing to look at you. You knew it took Spencer a few minutes to fully wake up, though he seemed quite conscious as he knelt on the side of the mattress you were on so he could speak. "I mean… do you think we're going to get in trouble?"

"I don't think so" he replied, as one of his hands slid down your bare leg to rest on your knee "Does it bother you that he knows?"

"No, no. I'm just… I'm worried that he'll send us to different departments”

“Just because we're dating? He would never do that” Reid laughed, finding your panic a little cute “He would lose his best agent”

"Are you referring to you or are you referring to me?"

"Applies to both" he replied quickly. You thought he would be more reluctant about the matter, so you practically took a load off your mind seeing him so calm by your suggestion “Actually I've been thinking about it a lot lately. Garcia and Kevin had no problems with their relationship so… why would it be any different with us?

"Because they weren’t in the same unit"

"So you don't want to try it?" he asked, sounding a bit dejected. Apparently it was a subject on which he had previously reflected.

“Of course I do, Spence. If you want to do it, then so do I" you assured him. He looked at you with some admiration and smiled happily, feeling satisfied with the answer “So it's a fact? Shall we just say it, just like that?” you muttered nervously.

Spencer took a few seconds and you could almost see the gears of his brain working behind his front.

“First we can talk to Hotch and explain the situation. Then there will be an opportunity to tell the others."

"Good"

“But we can discuss that another time, okay? for now just… get dressed. Not that I'm jealous, but I wouldn't want to see you walking around in nothing but your panties”

"Perhaps you would like it, what you would not like is for others to see me" you argued, managing to get a giggle out of him before he got up to continue with what he was doing. 

It didn't take long for you guys to get ready, and considering it was early morning, Spencer rummaged through his closet for a hoodie he could fit you into, even though you'd refused. You didn't even bother to dress up, you just tied up a messy ponytail and walked out of the place like that.

Normally you arrived at the office at different times, almost always the fifteen minutes between each subway schedule, but you thought that right now that was the least important thing. Although he didn't like to drive, he let you sit in the passenger seat of the light blue car that he only used in very necessary cases.

During the journey you got distracted looking at the city lights and at some point these lulled you so much that you ended up asleep against the seat. Spencer made sure to drive more carefully and avoid potholes, until he parked outside the FBI building. When he stopped and looked at you so peacefully, he wished he could just leave you like this, even though he knew everyone was probably already waiting for you inside.

Despite the urgency that the situation required he took a moment to look at you, feeling his chest swell with love. A part of him was guiltily glad you'd answered that call, because for the past week he'd wanted to talk to you about stopping keeping things secret and that had given him the perfect excuse. He wanted to have more moments like this with you, not just limit himself to giving you his love imprisoned by the four walls of an apartment.

“Hey,” he called to you in a small voice, when he finally snapped out of his trance, leaning down to stroke your arm hoping you'd react “We're here, pretty. Wake up"

You let out a groan, clearly not wanting to leave, and when you opened your eyes you felt your eyelids completely heavy. By way of persuading you, Spencer reached up to kiss your lips, in a prolonged and loving way that helped you remove all traces of sleepiness.

Inside the car you were oblivious to anything, without knowing that a person had been watching everything with their mouths open. Emily Prentiss practically ran to get to the office before you did and once she entered she desperately searched for the rest of her coworkers, finding Morgan, Garcia, and JJ talking to each other.

“Prentiss. where in such a hurry?

"You won't believe what I just saw," she said, without even saying hello, and the three of them stopped talking to pay attention to her, after all the tone warned them of a sure gossip "Reid was kissing a girl in his car"

“Spencer?” Garcia said, sounding incredulous but also excited.

"Yeah! I was getting out of my car when I saw him park with a girl in the passenger seat and then he leaned over to kiss her. Do you think she’s his girlfriend?

“Maybe we interrupted him in the middle of an adventure. Poor boy,” Morgan laughed, feeling sorry for his younger friend.

“I didn't get a good look at her face, but she was wearing a hoodie like… grey? I think so, it was grey."

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of the elevator opening and the three of them turned to see who it was. There was Hotch, of course, Rossi next to him, and behind both of you were Spencer and you.

"Thank you all for coming. Let's go to the meeting room” your boss announced, not stopping his walk and waiting for the rest of you to follow. Everyone ignored Rossi's greeting as Emily's eyes widened and she jerked her head in your direction, as if trying to make out some feature. JJ nearly choked on her own saliva when she noticed your gray hoodie, while Penelope and Derek shared a knowing look at the obviousness of it all.

You two didn't even notice what the rest were up to, so before long the whole team was already seated at the round table. It was a custom not to sit next to Reid, partly so you wouldn't be tempted to touch him, but also so you could look at him all the time.

When JJ started giving you the details of the case you were fighting to keep your eyes open, feeling disgusted and worried about the serial killer you had to profile this time, but also completely exhausted. Spencer's hoodie felt so comfortable that you hugged yourself hoping for some comfort, and then you noticed that he was looking at you. You smiled at him from where you were, wishing you could sit on his lap to listen to the rest of the meeting, while he circled his index finger on the left side of his chest, where his heart was. It was a sign he had adopted to let you know you were there. Derek, who was next to him, watched the exchange out of the corner of his eye and smiled to himself. Several times he had noticed his coworker doing that but until now he could understand why.

“We're leaving for Boston in an hour, just pack your bags and come back here. We'll better build the profile on the jet,” Hotch announced, and most nodded as he got up from their seats. Except for you, who leaned your cheek against the table.

"It's honestly not how I planned to spend my Saturday morning," Penelope complained, pouting in disappointment.

"Well, neither do I, but this isn't paperwork that can wait for Monday”

"Are you alright, lover boy?" Morgan asked now, paying attention to Reid's hunched posture. "You look like you're going to pass out at any moment”

"We didn't sleep well"

"We?" Prentiss pointed out accusingly. Spencer frowned at her, not noticing his mistake, but when he finally did, nerves invaded him.

"I meant me. I didn’t sleep well. I had… some things to do”

Yes, things.

"Huh, I see," she scoffed, not believing him one bit. That he had spoken in the plural and you were in the same condition only gave the team the confirmation they needed.

You had spent the night together.

"See you in a bit," Rossi said goodbye and the rest soon left through the same door as him. Only when Spencer made sure no one around did he come up to you.

"How come you can fall asleep anywhere?"

“It's my superpower. You're a genius, I have this” you teased, hearing your boyfriend giggle before taking a seat next to you. Once he was there, he started stroking your back gently, as if he wanted to comfort you.

"I take you home?"

"If there is no other option" you sighed, getting up from your comfortable position only to lean against his chest in a hug. Spencer loved physical contact, so he didn't put up the slightest resistance. "Have you ever thought what it would be like for us if we had normal jobs?"

"What do you mean?"

"Outside the FBI"

"Do you want to quit?" he asked, feeling alarmed, but you shook your head against his chest.

"No, is not that. I love this unit. I only asked myself if it would be easier if we worked on something... I don't know, less demanding, that would allow us to have days off or that it wouldn't take us out of your apartment at 4 in the morning. Something safer” 

"If that were the case, we wouldn’t have met"

“Did you always want to be an FBI agent?” you asked, raising your head so you could look at him. Your eyes looked bright in the light from the room, something Spencer couldn't ignore.

"Not always. There was a time when I wanted to be a cowboy”

"A cowboy?" you laughed, but with no intention of mocking. Of all the occupations that was the one you had least imagined for a mini-Reid "Well, you know what they say, save a horse..."

You expected him to complete the sentence, but seeing him scowling because he clearly didn't understand your country reference was enough to make you laugh and ask him to just forget it.

"And you? Did you always want to be an agent?”

"No," you said immediately. You had thought about it many times “When I was little I wanted to be a vet”

“A cowboy and a vet. That doesn't sound so far-fetched, maybe one day I would have even called you to take care of one of my animals."

"And then I would have fallen in love with the gorgeous cowboy Mr. Spencer Reid" you smiled, looking affectionately into the pretty eyes of the aforementioned "Can you imagine?"

"Maybe we really were already destined"

You liked to believe so. You liked to think on a daily basis that as horrible as being a profiler could be, every decision in your life had been worth it just to get to know people like your coworkers. That the world wasn't so horrible if it had allowed you to have a boyfriend as wonderful as the man in front of you.

"You're the best I have, you know that?" you exclaimed without hesitation "The best" you repeated and Spencer pulled you back into a hug just to avoid the embarrassment of you seeing his slightly moist eyes. Your face was leaning comfortably against him and your ear enjoyed the soft beat of his myocardium “I like to hear your heart”

“Did you know that a study showed that two people's heartbeats can be synchronized when they are in love?”

When he told you this, your ear was pressed against his chest and your hand went up to your neck to press it on the pulse line, paying attention to the rhythm of both of you. You smiled widely when you saw that, as always, your boyfriend was correct.

“And if one day we part ways? Will we keep beating at the same time?”

“I don't know, but I don't plan on checking either,” he assured you. Spencer really did see a future with you, and you inevitably did the same.

Before you got up you made sure to kiss him nicely on the lips and you left the boardroom hand in hand, arguing over which of your departments you would go to first. You didn't count on the fact that JJ would still be at the entrance, that when you arrived she looked at your perfectly intertwined hands.

"Hi," you said nervously, both of you letting go as a reflex, "Why haven't you left yet?"

“I need to close the door. I have the keys” she smiled. It was obvious, but you had forgotten it because you were chatting.

"Huh, yeah. We are very sorry. See you in a while"

"Good trip," she said, with the most teasing smile she'd ever given you.

You two rushed out of there and when you got to the elevator you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"For God's sake, is today the day we have to expose ourselves to the whole world?" you exhaled, covering your face with both hands to hide your blush.

"At least no one has seen us kiss yet"

If Emily had been in that elevator, she would have laughed in Spencer's face.

[riki-riks-chick]

HIII im sorry forr requesting this again i just love how u write, can u make another non affectionate niki? where his affectionate gf stops being clingy bc niki is annoyed with it yet he got jealous when he saw his gf pat or hug someone

Cling To Me ┃N.RK

non-affectionate!riki x affectionate!reader

riki gets upset bc yn isn't being clingy like usual and she's giving the other guys attention instead.

cw: fluff! jealous riki, kisses, hugs, riki secretly likes yn's clinginess.

wdct: 858

don't be srry for requesting again bc I'm lowkey obsessed w non-affectionate riks too. the first one was originally js for me but now im obsessed.

═════════════

Third Person POV~

Today you had plans with Riki and his friends, so you got up early, wanting to shower before he got up so you could make sure he had breakfast. He often skips so sometimes you have to semi-force him.

You took a quick shower, wearing some sweats and a loose tank top, and setting your outfit out to put on once you finished getting ready.

You made breakfast, a simple meal consisting of some fluffy pancakes, and some fruit. You also poured two glasses of orange juice, setting the table before heading back to the bed room to wake Riki.

"Riki.. Wake up.." You shake his arm, pushing his hair out of his face as he groaned. "Hm?..." His eyes flutter open as he gazes at you. You chuckle. "Get up... I made breakfast."

He sits up, stretching before getting out of bed and following you to the kitchen.

He mumbles a sleepy thank you before eating, albeit slowly.

"After you're done eating we can leave once we're both ready." You mumble as he nods. "Okay.." There's little conversation as you both finish eating, and Riki offers to do the dishes while you finish getting ready.

Once your hair and makeup is done, you put your planned outfit on which consisted of a pretty top Riki had bought for you and some jeans.

After finishing the dishes, Riki took a shower, spending minimal time getting ready, and once he finished, you both left.

The car ride to the arcade was short, and Riki had tried holding your hand and placing his hand on your thigh through out, but you rejected both actions by ignoring him.

He was confused because of how unlikely that was of you, but he tried to ignore it, not wanting to read too much into it.

When you finally got to the arcade, Riki opened your door for you, and you smiled, giving him a kiss to his cheek as a thank you.

The two of you walked in, immediately spotting Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Heeseung who were standing near the prize counter.

"Hey, guys." Jungwon greets as you and Riki walk over. He gives you a hug which you gladly return, making Riki pout. He gets even more upset when Sunghoon and Heeseung hug you too.

Now that he's thinking, you didn't give him a kiss or a hug when you woke him up, which is highly unlike you. And he can't tell if you're mad at him or not because you still made breakfast and you gave him a kiss on the cheek just a few minutes ago. It's all really confusing.

Once the rest of the guys get to the arcade, you all start playing games, and for the most part, you stick to Jay. And it's no surprise to Riki because you and Jay get along well and you call him your dad as a joke since he treats you like a kid and spoils you the same way he spoils everyone else.

But it's clear something is wrong when you guys leave the arcade, heading to a restaurant that you all wanted to eat at, and you don't sit next to Riki.

Not wanting to argue or make a scene, he decides to let it go, but it kills him everytime he glances around the table and he sees you giggling with Sunghoon and Sunoo. For some reason it irks him that he's not the one with your attention.

He finds himself wondering if you ever feel like this, and if it's one of the reasons you're so keen on affection, but he still can't wrap his mind around your reason for avoiding him today.

This bothers him until you get home, and you're both quiet as you change, getting comfy for the night. You're taking off your makeup and doing your skincare, but Riki is already on the bed, a pout set on his lips.

He waits until you finally climb onto the bed to glance at you. "Are you mad at me?..." He asks as you look over at him, confusion settling on to your face.

"No, why?.." You question as he sighs. "You've been ignoring me all day.. And you haven't hugged or kissed me at all, even when you woke me up this morning."

You chuckle at his words. "I didn't think you would care.. Usually you call me clingy when I'm all over you throughout the day." You mumble as he sighs. "That doesn't mean I don't like it... I was suffering all day because I thought you were upset with me. I went all day without a single hug or kiss from you."

You laugh at how pouty and adorable he is, moving to hug him, before pulling back to pepper kisses all over his face and then his lips.

He smiles, deepening the kiss, his large palm cupping your jaw. He eventually pulls away with a smile. "Please don't ignore me again.. I want you to cling to me.."

═════════════

[imaginespazzi]

Part 7: In All My Victories

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 8 - Part 9

Somebody said you got a new friend (But does she love you better than I can?)

(In which a writer in an EST timezone uses the PST timezone to announce that technically she's still meeting the deadline)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy

Words: 6.5K

TW: Swearing, Toxic Relationships

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Listen it's past midnight here but it's only around 9 pm in California which is where most of this fic is set so TECHNICALLY I am still meeting my deadline. This chapter is kind of a filler (and I guess that's why I don't love it) because it was gonna be about ~3K longer with another scene but it was either a longer chapter or a Monday chapter and I feel like y'all would prefer a Monday chapter. I have not edited this yet because I simply just don't have the energy to so pretty please point out my errors as you read so I can use them when I edit some time tomorrow. There's probably other stuff I need to say but I'm feeling oddly delirious right now so I'll just end with the usual. Let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

March 2033

Paige wakes up to a stream of sunlight tapping at her eyelids and someone’s soft breath tickling against her nose. She can feel a tiny hand pressed against her chest -right above her heart- and the weight of another person’s fingers intertwined against her own. The room is silent with the exception of the clock ticking on the wall and the perfectly harmonized breathing of the other people in the room. Stephie and Azzi. And Paige is scared to open her eyes, scared to move even an inch, scared that if she does either of those things, her dreamlike reality will prove to be nothing but a hopeless mirage. 

It had taken Paige a moment last night to really register what was happening around her. Dazedly, she had followed Azzi up the stairs into the guest room. She’d watched, albeit unhelpfully, as Azzi had searched out extra pillows, setting up the queen-sized bed so it could fit three people instead of it’s regular duo. It hadn’t sunk in even as Paige had slowly gotten herself ready for bed, finding herself in one of Azzi’s old oversized t-shirts suddenly overwhelmed with how much she’d missed falling asleep embraced in the scent of the younger woman’s favorite lavender and eucalyptus deodorant. Even as she’d made her way back from the bathroom and found Stephie beaming at her from where she was curled into Azzi’s side on bed, Paige still felt like she was simply just watching everything from a facetime call, like she had been while back in Dallas. It wasn’t until Stephie’s bedtime story was finished and the lights were turned off, when Azzi’s hand finally captured hers underneath the comforter and squeezed gently, that it finally clicked for Paige. 

Azzi had asked her to stay over.

Azzi had promised she wouldn’t run away. 

And as Paige finally lets eyes flutter open, blinking to adjust to the light, she breathes out a sigh of relief at the sight of a promise kept. 

Propping herself onto her elbow, she lets herself take in the view of the two people still sound asleep next to her. Paige isn’t a morning person by any means -rarely is she the first person to wake up- but she thinks if this was what she could open her eyes to every time, getting up could become her favorite part of the day. 

It’s uncanny how similar Azzi and Stephie are while sleeping. The little girl’s grip on Paige’s shirt is almost as strong as the tight hold her mother has on Paige’s hand. It’s like they’re trying to reel Paige into their world and keep her there forever, like even if she let go, they wouldn’t let her. There’s an air of contentedness on Azzi’s face as she snuggles closer to her daughter and Stephie has a soft smile at being cocooned in the protection of her mother’s arms. And Paige’s whole body aches a little bit because this bed they’re on is definitely not made for three people, but it’s nothing in comparison to the way her heart feels like it might burst from this feeling of and maybe this is how i become whole again. 

She presses a kiss against Stephie’s forehead and rubs her thumb against the back of Azzi’s hand before carefully detaching herself from the duo and slipping out of bed. The whole house is still clearly asleep as Paige lethargically brushes and then begins to make her way down the stairs. Her eyes gloss over the pictures placed across the stairwell until they fixate on one that has her in it. It’s an image taken after one of many water fights they’d had at the Fudd household during a hot summer day. Life had been so simple back then when it was water and not bullets that they shot at each other. 

Five drenched children are beaming at the camera. Jon and José are posed in some ridiculous stance, their water guns pointed at the camera. Paige, par for the course, is flexing, a far too cocky smirk dancing on her lips because she’d probably won the game (even if nobody else agreed). And then there’s Drew and Azzi. There’s a familiar pang in Paige’s chest as she brushes her fingers over her little brother’s exuberant smile. He’s latched onto the brunette’s back, a blue water balloon in his hand, as Azzi uses one hand on his hip to keep Drew in place and uses her other one to hold a pink water balloon of her own. The Fudds -Azzi- had been as big of a constant in Drew’s life as they had been in Paige’s and she wonders now, as she thinks back to her little brother’s irritation with her joining the Valkyries, if he’d ever forgive her and Azzi for taking that away from him. 

“Oh hey good morning,” Tallulah says as Paige lets herself into the kitchen, blanching slightly at the sight of the other woman. 

“Good morning,” Paige greets, pouring herself a glass of water as she takes a seat at the island, “guessing you’re making pancakes?”

Tallulah nods with a grin, “Stephie’s orders you know.”

“Ah of course,” Paige laughs, “can’t defy the queen.”

She watches as Tallulah prances around the hardwood floor, grabbing bowls and ingredients, like it’s her kitchen and Paige can’t help the twinge of envy that blooms in her bloodstream. It used to be her. She used to know the Fudd’s kitchen -the whole house- like the back of her hand because really, like Katie always said, it was her home too. But she doesn’t quite know this place, couldn’t tell you where to find the sugar or where the utensils were kept and that stings more than she’d expected. It spirals Paige into the thought that she wouldn’t know any of those things at Azzi’s own house either. And suddenly she’s struck by the reminder that two people who’d once promised to build a world together, had spent the last couple of years, building two separate ones instead. 

“Hey,” Tallulah breaks Paige out of her trance, “you good.”

Paige musters up a smile, “yeah- yeah of course. Just- just thinking a lotta things I guess.”

“They’ve all missed you, you know,” Tallulah says softly, “they try not to do it too much around Azzi but it’s always ‘oh Paige would’ve loved this’ or ‘did you catch that bucket Paige made last night’. And whenever the Wings were playing here, it was a no-brainer that they would go.”

“Yeah?” tears prickle against the blonde’s waterline. 

“Yeah,” Tallulah confirms, “Tim lowkey lost his mind before you got here last night. Poor man was running all over the place making sure things were good. Katie thought it was pretty hilarious.”

Paige lets out a watery laugh, “that sounds like them-”

“Miss Buecks,” a tiny voice interrupts her before she can say anything and Paige whirls around to see a teary-eyed Stephie looking at her from the last step of the staircase, her bottom lip trembling and panic courses into Paige’s bloodstream

“Stephie,” she practically trips over herself as she rushes to fold the little girl into her arms, “sweetheart what’s wrong?”

Stephie nestles herself into the blonde’s neck, mumbling something incoherent as she holds Paige impossibly tight. 

“Stephie,” Paige whispers frantically, concern dripping from her voice, “tell Miss Buecks what’s wrong please. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me sweetheart.”

“Thought you left,” Stephie confesses finally, keeping her head burrowed against Paige’s shoulder, “you weren’t next to me when I woke up. Got scared.”

“Oh honey,” Paige whispers, as she gently coaxes the little girl’s head out from the crook of her neck so she can cup her face, “I’m right here. I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Stephie’s quiet for a second, hiccoughing to herself as she searches for something on Paige’s face before she holds out a pinky, “promise you’ll never leave?” 

Paige hesitates, the words sitting heavy on the tip of her tongue. It’s not that she doesn’t want to but Paige has learned first-hand about the fragility of the future, about how true the cliché about time changing in the blink of an eye can be. Because the truth is that it’s not just Azzi who’s scared. Paige is terrified. She’d drowned in this ocean once before and as she tries to swim in it again, she can’t quite find it in herself to shed her life-jacket by making an oath that she can’t guarantee to protect from the dangerous tides of circumstance.

And so she hopes it’s enough for Stephie as she caresses the little girl’s cheeks and says, “I promise I’ll try to stay.”

“Okay,” Stephie says softly and Paige lets out a sigh of relief, “I trust you Miss Buecks.”

Paige smiles, giving the little girl a kiss on the cheek before hoisting her up onto her lap, “did you wake your Mama up?”

“No. She’s still snoring,” Stephie giggles. 

Paige laughs, tucking that little tidbit away to tease Azzi with later, “how about you and I go get your Mama her favorite coffee?”

“Oh that’s nice,” Tallulah chirps from where she’s still standing in the kitchen, “go get coffee of course. Why would anyone stay here and help me?”

“Go ask uncle José,” Stephie shoots the younger woman an unamused look, “isn’t that what husbands are for?”

Paige stifles a grin as Tallulah narrows her eyes, waving her whisk menacingly at Stephie, “he’s not my husband yet and you watch it missy or maybe I won’t let you be a flower girl at the wedding.”

“Your wedding would be boring without me,” Stephie scoffs, “besides Aunty Tully, we’ll get you a drink too. Uncle José always says you drink vod-ka, too much of it app-ently, but I don’t know what that is,” she turns to Paige who’s gone bright red in attempt to stop herself from keeling over with laughter, “can we get vod-ka for Aunty Tully?”

Paige tries her best to compose herself, “maybe we’ll just get her a latte and save the vodka for later huh Tulls?”

Tallulah glares at her, flipping her off when Stephie’s gaze shifts towards the door, “just go get the coffee Bueckers.”

***

Not that she didn’t know it before, but Paige quickly realizes just how similar Stephie is to her mother while they’re standing in front of the bakery portion of the coffeeshop and it’s been ten minutes and Stephie still hasn’t decided which sweet treat she’d like. 

 “Stephie sweetheart,” Paige says, only slightly impatient, “how about the double fudge brownie?”

“That sounds good,” Stephie says excitedly and then her eyes dart towards the cinnamon bun in the corner, “or maybe the ninnamon bun- no wait- Aunty Tully’s gonna put ninnamon in the pancakes so maybe something else. Ooooh maybe a cookie but which one?”

Paige groans to herself as Stephie busies herself looking at the assortment of freshly baked cookies. The old woman over the counter, wearing a name tag saying Ruthie, shares a commiserating smile with her. 

“My daughter was like that too at that age. Couldn’t make a decision to save her life,” Ruthie says, a fond look in her eyes while talking about her child. 

Paige smiles, “did she ever grow out of it?”

“Well considering we went out to dinner last night and she couldn’t pick between the pepperoni and the sausage, I don’t think they really grow out of it,” Ruthie winks and Paige can’t help but think about Azzi and the way she’d struggled to pick out what to wear to bed last night, staring helplessly between two shirts that practically looked the same. 

“Oh I know that look,” Ruthie says, eyes twinkling at the hopeless smile on Paige’s face, as she tilts her head towards Stephie, “you’re thinking about her mother huh?”

“That obvious?” Paige blushes. 

Ruthie shrugs, “what is love if it can’t be seen by everyone?”

Love. The word seeps into Paige’s veins, traveling up her bloodstreams until it claws its way into her heart, settling against her ribcage like a rock so that when she breathes, it’s all she can feel. It’s too soon, she knows, and it defeats the purpose of going slow except- it’s not soon at all. Because this isn’t a new feeling, it’s a far too familiar old one that she’d buried as deep within her as possible but is now yearning to get out. It had never gone away, simply lingered in the back of her mind just waiting for this moment. And if she’s honest with herself, Paige doesn’t know if she should fight against it or let herself ride the waves of the before that are desperate to crash against the shore of now. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whines, “come help me choose.”

Shooting Ruthie an apologetic look and ignoring the pit in her stomach at the elder woman’s words, Paige walks over and bends down to the little girl’s height, “how about a chocolate chip cookie?”

“Boooooring,” Stephie crinkles her nose. 

“Peanut butter?”

“I’m ‘lergic to nuts Miss Buecks,” Stephie says matter-of-factly and Paige pencils that important fact into her mind’s ever growing list of all about Stephie.

“Salted caramel crunch?” 

“That sounds good,” Stephie nods, “yeah I’ll get that,” she says as she turns to Ruthie, “could I get a salted car-mel crunch cookie please?” but Paige doesn’t miss the wistful look she sends towards the rest of the cookies. 

“Stephie?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want me to get you one of each?”

And she’s absolutely going to get a disapproving glare from Azzi when she shows back up at the Fudd’s with almost a dozen cookies in hand but it’s worth it for the way Stephie immediately latches onto her thigh, a dazzling smile lighting up her whole face. 

“You’re best-est-est-est Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, staring up at Paige with delight. 

“I know,” Paige smirks, “and you better protect me from your Mama when we get back.”

Stephie nods very seriously, “of course Miss Buecks. I’ll protect you with my life.”

Paige ruffles the younger girl's hair before turning to Ruthie who’s grinning at her, “one of every flavor of cookie you have please. Except anything that has nuts.”

“Coming right up,” Ruthie winks at Paige, “your daughter has you wrapped around her little finger huh?”

And maybe Paige should at least attempt to correct the misconception but as Stephie clings to her just a little bit tighter, she can’t find it in herself to say anything but, “yeah, yeah she does.”

***

“Next time you kidnap my daughter, can you at least send me a text?” Azzi says, a grin on her lips as she opens the door to let Paige and Stephie enter back into the Fudd household. 

“Good morning Mama,” Stephie says happily, launching herself into her mother’s arms and placing a sloppy kiss against her cheek. 

“Morning sunshine,” Azzi laughs, “you seem giddy this morning.”

“Miss Buecks bought me six-teen cookies and she let me eat two of them while we were dri-” Stephie pauses mid ramble, eyes widening as she dramatically slaps a hand over her mouth. 

Paige groans as a glare overtakes Azzi’s previously smiling features, “Steph what happened to protecting me?”

“It was an aksy-dent Miss Buecks I’m sorry,” Stephie whimpers, hurriedly cupping her mother’s face, “please don’t be angry at Miss Buecks, Mama. It was my idea.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “I bet it was. But if you already had two cookies, you must be full? I guess that means no pancakes for you-”

“Miss Buecks forced me to eat the cookies,” Stephie cuts her off and Paige gasps at the betrayal, “not full at all Mama because you can’t get full unless you like what you eat and I didn’t like those cookies at all. So I neeeeeeed pancakes.”

“Traitor,” Paige hisses at the little girl who shrugs sheepishly. 

Stephie shoots her an apologetic smile as Azzi hides a grin against her daughter’s hair, “I’m sorry Miss Buecks but I really, really want pancakes. I’ll die if I don’t get pancakes.”

“Okay drama queen,” Azzi chides fondly as she puts Stephie back on the ground, “go get your pancakes,” and then she rounds onto Paige with a patented glare. 

“I got you an iced vanilla latte with extra whipped cream,” Paige says before the younger woman can say anything, practically shoving the cold drink into her hand. 

“Sixteen cookies? Paige seriously?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she sips at her coffee. 

“You didn’t see her Az,” Paige defends, “she looked so sad when she couldn’t decide.”

“Just because she looks sad doesn’t mean you buy her every single cookie to make her happy,” Azzi shakes her head exasperatedly. 

“I’d buy her the whole shop if that’s what would make her happy,” Paige says, sincerity weaved throughout every word of the sentence. 

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Azzi says softly, a hint of awe in her voice, “you’re kind of a sap Paige Bueckers.”

“Only for you and your daughter Azzi Fudd,” Paige whispers, leaning her head against the younger woman’s temple, “only for the two of you.”

They stand there like that, barely touching beyond their foreheads, yet basking in a certain kind of intimacy that they’ve only ever found with each other. The thing is, Paige’s senses are always heightened, every part of her always alert of what’s going around her. Except when she’s with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi she can let the noise fade to the background and let everything else become a blur and simply just be with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi, she doesn’t have to worry; doesn’t have to have her sword out ready for battle because she knows the younger girl will always be her shield. When she’s with Azzi, Paige is safe. 

They’re shaken from their reverie by a cough in the background and Paige reluctantly looks over her shoulder to see Jana regarding them with an amused look. 

“Guess I missed a couple of chapters?” 

“Shut up,” Paige grinds out, annoyed as Azzi moves out of her space, “what are you doing here so early El-Alfy?”

“I’m here for breakfast because I’m basically an honorary Fudd,” Jana throws her head back before yelling, “RIGHT KATIE?’

“Right Jana,” comes the muffled confirmation from the kitchen as Jana smirks at Paige. 

“The better question Bueckers,” the Egyptian prods with a smirk, “is what are you doing here so early?”

“I slept ov-” Paige bites her tongue but it’s too late as Jana’s grin gets wider and next to her, Azzi lets her head drop into her hands. 

“You slept over? In which room?” Jana asks innocently. 

And of course Stephie chooses exactly that moment to catch wind of the conversation, yelling from the kitchen, “she slept with me and Mama, Aunty J.”

“Thank you for telling me Stephie,” Jana’s eyes twinkle with mirth as she pulls out her phone, “oh I’m about to make some money- hey!”

Azzi snatches the phone out of her younger teammate’s hand, a sweet smile playing on her lips as she starts walking towards the kitchen, “no phones at breakfast thank you!”

“That’s not fair,” Jana whines sauntering after the GSV shooting guard, Paige snickering as she follows the two of them into the kitchen. 

“Life’s not fair. Deal with it,” Azzi glares before slipping Jana’s phone into her own pocket, “you can have it back before you leave.”

“Y’all are so mean,” Jana sulks, pouting harder when she reaches out to grab a pancake and immediately has her hand whacked by Tim.

“That one’s for Paige,” the older man warns sternly and Paige sticks her tongue out at her teammate as she grabs the pancake onto her place. 

“WHAT?” Jana guffaws, “what’s so special about it?”

Tim shrugs, “absolutely nothing. Just thought it would be funny to see you annoyed.”

“Y’all are the worst adoptive family a player could have you know that?” Jana scolds, pressing her fists to her cheeks like she’s barely older than Stephie, “and to think I was gonna invite the two of you,” she glares at Paige and Azzi, “to a party.”

“Party? Can I come?” Stephie asks excitedly. 

“Unfortunately this one’s just for adults kiddo. And it’s not really a party,” Jana explains, “me and Joyce thought it would be nice to do a little team-bonding, especially for you P. Drinks at the bar next weekend?”

“Sounds good,” Paige confirms, “we’ll be there!”

“Oh it’s ‘we’ now is it?” Jana teases, “you guys gonna come together?”

“No,” Azzi says at the same time as a profound “yes” leaves Paige’s mouth. The two of them stare at each other with questioning looks and Paige feels a heavy pit settling in her stomach. Rationally, she knows Azzi’s probably right. No part of going slow includes going to a party with their teammates together, especially not when they’re trying to keep whatever it is they’re doing on the down low. But there’s something about being a secret again, that raises a bitter taste of what killed us then could kill us now in her mouth. 

“Awkward,” Jon whistles slowly, only to be met with a simultaneous slap on the back of his head from both his mother and Tallulah. 

“I mean- I would have to drop Stephie off here- or umm- at Colleen's so like- logically- practically- uh- it um- it wouldn’t make sense for us to go together,” Azzi says and Paige has to refrain herself from calling it a bullshit explanation. 

Instead she gives the younger girl a tight-lipped nod, “right yeah-wouldn’t make sense for us to go together. Obviously,” gritting her teeth and desperate to change the topic, she turns to Jana, “will the whole team be there?”

“A couple of them aren’t currently in the Bay but yeah most of them,” Jana shrugs. 

“Oh,” Stephie claps excitedly, “will Aunty Chérie be there? Is she back yet?”

Paige narrows her eyes as both Jana and Azzi exchange looks, “who’s Aunty Chérie?”

“Aunty Chérie’s the best,” Stephie gushes, “she’s really nice and pretty and she calls me ‘mon chérie’,” the little girl does her best attempt at a vaguely french accent and realization starts to claw at Paige’s mind, “so I call her Aunty Chérie. She’s Mama’s best friend on the team.”

Paige tries and fails not to grimace at the sentence; the idea of anyone else being Azzi’s best friend feels like nails being screwed into her skin. 

“I’m your Mama’s best friend on the team,” Jana butts in, trying to rescue Azzi from the hole her daughter’s about to dig her into, glancing worriedly between the two former huskies who are doing their best not to look at each other. 

“If you say so Aunty J,” Stephie concedes, “but you didn’t answer my question. Is Aunty Chérie back?”

“Yeah she- um Clémence I mean- is coming back for a little bit next week so um-” Jana swallows, clearly not having thought the uncomfortableness of the situation through, “yeah she’ll uh- she’ll probably be there.”

Stephie lets out a whoop of excitement and Paige feels it burn a hole in her stomach. She knows she has no right to be upset at the idea of Stephie being as enamored by another one of Azzi’s teammates but something about it makes her feel queasy inside. Because Clémence Martens isn’t just a teammate. Paige doesn’t know the exact history there; she’d never had the right to ask about it but she’s seen the way Clémence looks at Azzi and she knows she doesn’t like it one bit.

“I thought Clémence was being traded to Atlanta?” Paige keeps her voice low as she leans into Jana. She’s not sure if Stephie knows the news yet and despite the jealousy that’s blooming in every crevice of her body, she doesn’t want to hurt the little girl by accidentally announcing it to her, “why’s she coming?”

Jana sighs, “Joyce invited her cause she was gonna be in town. You know they don’t know about-” the taller woman gestures between Paige and Azzi, “-all of this so. It’s just for one night Paige.”

“Right,” Paige nods, eyes locking with Azzi’s across the table as the younger woman fidgets with the ‘S’ necklace around her neck and shoots Paige a timid attempt at a reassuring smile, “just one night.”

***

August 2028

USA 68         France 64

The entire arena is abuzz for the final 20 seconds of a grueling semi-final match between the storied USA Women’s Basketball team trying to keep their dynasty alive and a vindictive French team eager to avenge their last heartbreaking Olympic loss. France has possession of the ball, shot clock turned off, and Paige has been tasked with guarding Clémence Martens. The woman in front of her, a bench player for the Golden State Valkyries,  had never seemed like much of a threat to Paige when they’d met during the W season, but seemed to have become a whole other beast when representing her nation. Clémence is currently leading the French team in assists and is only behind Gabby William in points. Paige keeps herself glued to the woman as she tries to get herself free for the inbound. 

The inbounder realizes after a couple of seconds that the French coach’s advice to get Clémence the ball wouldn’t be possible and instead the ball ends up in the hands of Iliana Rupert instead. As gameplay resumes, Paige does exactly as she’s supposed to and she can tell that she’s getting under the French woman’s skin as Clémence curses to herself in her native language. Paige bites back a smirk, secretly pleased at having riled her competitor up. The ball continues to pass around the French players, time ticking away, but the USA’s defense doesn’t allow a good shot until Gabby throws up a miraculous jumper with a second left on the shot clock. 

And of course, in a way that’s perhaps too reminiscent of how France had lost in 2024, it goes in. 

But it’s not enough and Paige feels blood rush to her ears as the entire arena, decked out in red white and blue, roars with triumph, celebrating the world's greatest team returning back to the finals stage. There’s still one more game but this win is special. They’d been down by 11 points at the half and Paige could almost picture the headlines ready to write themselves about the streaks that could be broken if they lost. But she was no stranger to the pressure that came from playing for a team with a deep history and it had been her and Stewie, partially motivated by their former college head coach frowning at them from the sidelines, that had spear-headed a 23-3 run at the beginning of the 3rd quarter. The USA women’s team hadn’t looked back since and now they were one more step away being golden again. 

“You did it,” Olivia screams, running into Paige’s arms as friends and family start to gather on the court, “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks Olivia-” Paige is about to say more when the familiar back of someone’s head catches her attention and, like they always seem to when she’s around, all the words die on the tip of her tongue. 

Azzi. 

Paige could’ve sworn she’d seen the woman in the crowd at some point but she’d chalked it up to a trick of the light manipulating her eyes into seeing what her heart desperately wanted. But as she watches the woman she’d once imagined celebrating all of her victories with, slowly brush away the tears of someone else’s loss, Paige can’t help but wish that it had been a trick of the light after all. She feels suffocated and she can’t tell if it’s from how tight Olivia’s holding her or if it’s because Clémence is burying her head into the space between Azzi’s neck and shoulder, a space that Paige used to mark as hers. And then Azzi looks above Clémence’s shoulder. Dark brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears as they lock onto watery sky blue ones. They’re standing in other people’s arms and they really should look away but how can they when looking into each other’s eyes feels a little bit like finally coming up for air. And Paige realizes that what she’s really being suffocated by is the regret of you’re supposed to be holding me and i’m supposed to be holding you; it was meant to be us. 

Azzi lets go of Clémence first, soothingly rubbing the francophone’s back as she makes her way over to congratulate the USA team, starting with Cam and Aliyah. Paige pulls away from Olivia, oblivious to the way annoyance flits across her wife’s features as she catches sight of Azzi. No one but the blonde notices how hesitant Azzi’s steps are, how she carefully pauses a little longer than necessary with everyone else until she finally reaches Paige, managing to give her a small but sincere smile. Olivia wraps a possessive hand around Paige’s bicep and the blonde fights the urge to shake it off when she notices Azzi’s eyes flickering to it for a brief second before coming back up to her face. 

“Congratulations Paige,” the formality in Azzi’s voice feels like acid pelting against Paige’s skin, “you were really good tonight.”

“Thank you,” Paige smiles politely, “it was pretty stressful there for a second but I’m glad we got the dub. But it um-” she hesitates, unsure if she should say the next part, “it would’ve been nice if you were out there with me- with us I mean. We could’ve used your shooting.”

“Maybe next time,” Azzi gives her a half-grin. 

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Olivia says airily, sharp nails digging a little too roughly into Paige’s skin as her grip tightens further, “there’s plenty of talent up and coming in the next 4 years.”

This is a side of Olivia that Paige is only just beginning to unveil, the side of Olivia that makes snide bitchy comments with a saccharine voice. And Paige really should let it go at this moment, make a mental note to speak with her wife about it later instead of jumping in. But she can see the insecurities brimming in Azzi’s eyes and the words tumble out before Paige can stop them. 

“Yeah but no one better than Azzi.”

Olivia stiffens, “right unless she’s injured or pregnant or something. You’re prone to those right?”

“Olivia,” Paige hisses. 

“I didn’t mean it offensively,” Olivia feigns innocence and a bitter mix of irritation and anger coils itself around Paige’s ribcage, “just something to think about.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second before a sugary smile, laced with poison, inches itself onto her face, “I’ve only been pregnant once and I haven’t been injured since college which I would expect someone in sports media to know but,” the brunette’s eyes flash dangerously, “I suppose that’s something someone with national media credentials would know, not just a mere local beat writer for Dallas’s fifth most read newspaper,” Azzi turns to Paige, sarcasm morphing into something far more genuine, “congratulations again. I’m really happy for you Paige.”

***

The Reynolds-Bueckers hotel room is a pathetic hot mess that night. Olivia’s livid at Paige and Paige is livid at the stupid #Clézzi tag on tiktok. She’s no stranger to fan edits and she’s definitely no stranger to ship edits and so when the first tiktok appears on her for you page, she knows better than to click on it. She knows better but she does it anyway. And suddenly she finds herself sucked into montage after montage of so-called moments between Clémence and Azzi that fans had noticed and documented. The clips are bad enough themselves but it’s the captions, bold declarations of look at the way she looks at her; no one can love azzi the way clémence loves her, that really piss her off. Clémence might look at Azzi like she’s made of stars but Paige knows that she looks at Azzi like she is the moon, Paige’s moon. As Olivia’s anger bounces off the walls, her rant about disrespect starts to mesh with the audio of the edits that continue to play on the blonde’s phone and Paige wonders if this her God-designed personal hell. 

“Are you even fucking listening to me Paige?” Olivia yells, forcing Paige to look up at her wife. 

“What do you want me to say Olivia?” Paige asks tiredly. 

“What do I want you to say? Well nothing now Paige. She said all of that shit to me and you were silent then so I’m not expecting you to say anything of meaning now either.”

“You’re the one who poked her first-”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Olivia laughs maniacally, “you’re really gonna do this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Paige protests. 

“You’re defending her,” Olivia yells, “you’re my wife and you’re defending her. You’re defending your ex. Can you seriously not see what’s wrong with this picture.”

“Olivia,” Paige sighs, eyes gazing down at her phone where another fuckass Clézzi edit has started to play and she rapidly scrolls past it, “it’s been a long day and I just wanna go to bed. I have practice tomorrow and the gold medal game-”

“Right fucking basketball. Again,” Olivia rolls her eyes. 

“What-”

“It’s fine,” Olivia pinches the bridge of her nose, the fight draining from her voice, “you’re right go to bed. I’m not- I’m not feeling great so I’ll sleep out here tonight. Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want you to get sick before the gold medal game.”

“Olivia,” Paige says half-heartedly, taking a timid step towards the woman in front of her.

“It’s fine,” Olivia says, “just- just go to bed Paige.”

Paige knows that the last thing she should do is actually listen to her wife. And she knows that if it was Azzi -she hates herself for even thinking this way- she wouldn’t walk away. If it was Azzi, Paige would’ve pulled her into her arms, held her there and made her talk because they both hated going to bed angry. But well if it was Azzi, this whole situation wouldn’t exist in the first place. 

And so she ends up in bed alone, still scrolling through random tiktoks in an effort to not have to deal with all the voices in her head, until suddenly she stumbles on a video captioned and at the end of the day she’ll still always be looking at her. It’s a video taken today. Paige is holding Olivia and Azzi’s holding Clémence but they’re staring at each other. And Paige thinks that whoever wrote the caption, had probably gotten it right. At the end of day, she’ll always look for Azzi. She just doesn’t know if she’ll find her ever again. 

***

USA 102         Australia 73 

Paige can already taste the feeling of a gold medal around her neck as she takes a seat, the crowd roaring with applause as Coach Lawson empties her bench. There’s only fifteen seconds left in the game and her knees are bouncing in anticipation, ready to celebrate a moment she’s been dreaming of for god knows how long. Paige scans the crowd, not even pretending to look for anyone but Azzi and she can’t help the smile that erupts on her face when she spots the brunette with her fingers crossed, a brilliant grin directed in Paige’s direction as she mouths i’m so proud of you. 

Olivia isn’t here, claiming she was too sick to come tonight. Paige thinks she probably should be more upset about that. She thinks the whole thing is probably a ruse that Olivia had concocted to get Paige to beg her to come, to get Paige to show her that she wanted her wife there. The other woman's face had fallen when Paige hadn’t really reacted to the announcement, simply pressed her lips to her forehead and mumbled a feeble hope you feel better before leaving. Paige thinks this is probably the first sign they're falling apart. She thinks she should probably care about that a little bit more too. 

But the first thing her eyes had landed on once she’d entered the court, was Azzi’s face in the lower bowl and everything else had ceased to exist. Her first petty thought had been a ha! fuck you to the damned Clézzi shippers who claimed Azzi wouldn’t show up today, too busy consoling Clémence. They didn't know Azzi was all-american. Her second thought, the one that felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around her soul, was that of course Azzi’s here. Because Azzi had been there every time Paige achieved a milestone and even if they were barely a shadow of what they used to be, it's only right that Azzi is still here. 

Australia doesn’t even bother taking a shot, bowing out gracefully and the buzzer rings. 

The entire arena bursts into confetti and music as the USA Women’s Basketball Team clinches yet another Olympic Gold Medal. 

Paige doesn’t know who she’s hugging, lost in a sea of red uniforms as she feels herself floating through her teammates. They end up in a huddle, screaming and she can barely make out who’s saying what but it doesn’t matter. The chaos has never felt so fucking cathartic.

As everyone else disperses to find their families, Paige’s eyes land where they always seem to: on Azzi. And maybe she shouldn’t do it, maybe she should think again but fuck it Paige Bueckers is an olympic gold medalist and she’s going to share this moment with the first person she’d ever won a medal for this country with. Her legs move of their own accord, walking and then running and she breathes out a sigh of relief when she realizes that Azzi’s moving towards her too. 

“You did it. Oh my god Paige you did it,” Azzi squeals as they crash into each other in the middle of the court, her arms instinctively going around Paige’s neck as the blonds wraps her hands around Azzi’s waist, “I’m so fucking proud of you. I knew you could do it Paige.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Paige breathes out, “I just- it wouldn’t be the same winning without you.”

Azzi’s eyes soften, “I came for you. I don’t know if I’m allowed to say that but- I’m here for you.”

“Good don't want you to be here for anybody else,” Paige tightens her hold on the younger woman’s waist, “we’re gonna do it together next time okay. You and me, we’re gonna be golden together.”

And they both know that they’re saying words they shouldn’t say. That when they break apart from this moment, they’ll have to walk away. But for now, being in each other’s arms is the only thing that feels right, that feels golden.

[sleepynoons]

togame x afab!f!reader (characters aged up), nsfw, 18+, not beta read

cw: marathon sex, unprotected sex, oral (receiving), slight face riding, subdrop + dubcon (not intended but could be interpreted as so), one slap on the ass, cum eating, fingering, descriptions of violence + pain + blood

notes: the underground fighter/fight club!au that no one asked for. i've never seen the movie either, so literally, take everything – especially the fight scene in this one-shot – with a fucking atom of salt. i was inspired by this lovely art, and since the manga mentions that togame has limitless stamina... well, i kinda had to do something with that info...

YOU'D EXPECT your boyfriend to be tired out by now. in fact, if you were him, the two of you would have gone to bed hours ago, deep in slumber from the day’s excitement and exhaustion. instead, you’re splayed out on the bed, arms boneless next to you and mouth releasing tired whimpers, as your body rocks along with every deep thrust from jo.

his hands hold onto your hips tightly, pulling you back as he pushes forward, attempting to bury himself ever deeper into you. jo’s always been competitive, and paired with his methodical nature, he’s obsessed with trying to bring the two of you to new heights of sexual pleasure.

how did the two of you end up like this?

your brain’s hazy, clouded by the feeling of jo’s cock kissing that sweet spot inside of you and his teeth nipping and biting at your neck and shoulders. but you try to recall, as a means to hang on, to stay awake for just a little bit longer.

you were invited to watch jo fight for the first time. you weren’t particularly fond of supporting violence, but he had insisted it was something of a casual community event, and it was good for some extra cash and fun prizes. it was also an important part of his life, and since the two of you’ve been dating for a few months now, he wanted to bring you along to meet some of his friends.

when both of you were driving to the club, hosted in an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town, you asked, “aren’t fight clubs illegal?”

he shrugged and said, “number one rule of fight club: don’t talk about fight club.”

you snorted and rolled your eyes. “you already have.” jo chuckled and answered all the questions you had until the two of you arrived.

he guided you toward the entrance and showed you around, pointing out a few coolers for drinks, the bathroom, and the arena itself. several people were already there, catching up and placing bets on the night’s matches.

as you walked around, you overheard someone say, “all my money’s on togame.” you glanced at your boyfriend, but he made no indication that he had heard anything. 

after being introduced to a few of jo’s friends, it was almost time for the match-ups to start. he had explained to you earlier that he would have to leave you unaccompanied as all participants were required to prepare for their rounds in a large storage room, which was essentially a smaller, neighboring warehouse unit. you reassured him that you would be fine, and in the worst case, you would wait for him in the car.

the fights shortly began after your boyfriend left. you watched as challengers came and went, some throwing punches and kicks at each other while others with more experience used their wits and specific techniques. you cringed as fists collided with jaws and feet were swiped off the floor. but everyone, including the fighters, seemed to be enjoying themselves, so you remained in your seat.

after four matches, it was finally jo’s turn.

like all of the other fighters, jo was shirtless and barefoot. everyone in the audience seemed to roar for your boyfriend as he made his way into the ring. when he stepped into the light, you sucked in a deep breath, a little shocked and in awe.

you had never seen jo so excited about anything in his life.

the jo you knew ate so slow that all the food would be cold by the time he was half-finished, preferred to nap on a beach chair instead of swimming in the pool, and hosted gatherings with friends at home to avoid clubbing and drinking out. the person you’ve gotten to know in the past few months seemed to be a wholesome, harmless dork.

but this jo didn’t even spare you a glance. now that he was standing in the ring, he was laser-focused on his opponent, eyes wide with dilated pupils and a wild, animalistic glint in them. it became abundantly clear to everyone in the audience that, no matter what, jo would win.

apparently, jo had amassed quite a bit of a reputation for himself, hence why the fight club was so packed. the hollers and howls from the spectators escalated as jo exchanged blow after blow with his opponent. you watched as your boyfriend ducked a swing, shifted his balance and stepped on one of his opponent’s feet, effectively immobilizing them for a second, before using his shoulder to jab at and ram into the opponent’s solar plexus. the other stumbled back a bit before managing to land a heavy kick to jo’s side, and despite knowing it would leave a nasty bruise, jo didn’t flinch and instead lunged forward, landing a series of punches in quick succession to the other’s face. in a few moments, his opponent surrendered. you finally allowed yourself to breathe, only noticing then that you barely did throughout the fight.

as the referee held up jo’s arm to announce his victory, he finally looked around in search of you. your boyfriend must’ve noticed your stunned expression, so he cocked his head and discreetly nudged his chin towards the exit. intuition told you to wait for him outside.

as you rushed outside, jo easily caught up to you, spinning you around and pinning you to the car. you squeaked as he kissed you deeply, taking away the air you just managed to regain, and pressed his body against yours, the smell of sweat and rusting blood piquing your senses. when he broke away and you thought you had a moment to recollect yourself, he dove back in, sucking on your lips till they bruised and swelled and brushing his hands against your ear, knowing that the touch made you shudder and buckle at the knees. even when your legs gave way, he didn’t relent, and you had to gasp out a “it hurts!” for him to pull away. you watched as he let up, and when the two of you were face-to-face, that wild glint you saw earlier was still apparent in his eyes. but his usual lazy smile returned as he apologized and rubbed at the spot where the car door handle was digging into your skin.

you can’t seem to recall your return home, and even then, you only remember jo haphazardly unlocking his door as you clawed at his t-shirt to take it off. you were still oblivious then to what the night actually held in store.

you’re brought back to the present when jo’s arm suddenly wraps around the front of your shoulders and chest and heaves you up. now, your back is arced backwards, and the slight shift in angle causes you to mewl in pleasure. you’re starting to see white spots in your vision with the way his thick cock stretches your walls apart and pokes at new spots in you that you’ve never discovered yourself.

between pants, jo gulps and asks, “what are you thinking about? am i that bad?”

you want to object, but then he gives you a harsh slap to the ass cheek with his other hand that effectively silences you.

“princess, i won just for you, so give me some attention, yeah?”

you manage to choke out, “for me?” jo reaffirms by pulling almost all the way out, leaving only his tip inside you, and then thrusting himself in again heavily with force so strong you feel it rattle throughout your body. you’ve always known your boyfriend is strong, but today’s fight and sex have exceeded your expectations. you cry out shamelessly and cum unexpectedly that even jo releases a guttural moan when your pussy clamps down on him, and he also finishes.

you collapse onto the bed. faintly, you hear jo apologize, “shit, sorry, babe. didn’t mean to cum inside of you.” he helps you roll over so that you’re lying on your back, and picks your legs up to slide you fully onto the bed. you think it’s the end.

but suddenly, the bed dips at where your feet lie, and your legs are pried apart. jo lines firm kisses along your inner thighs, and you whimper at the feeling of his fingers playing with your folds. he slides the fingertip of his index finger up and down between your folds, causing you to jolt whenever he flicks at your clit.

“jo…,” you whisper. you rest your hands around your boyfriend’s neck, holding onto him in hopes of grounding yourself.

“how about one more, babe? just one more,” he pleads, transfixed at the sight of your messy, wet pussy. his want hasn’t been satiated. he needs to feel you one last time. he begs again, “i won’t put it in, i know you’re sore. i’m going to clean you up, alright?”

the feeling of his warm tongue against your hole erases all of your thoughts and concerns. he’s careful, aware that you’re spent and overstimulated, and he laps at the mixture of his and your cum spilling down and onto the sheets. when he feels your body tensing up, he pauses and presses feather-light kisses instead as he waits for you to relax once more. he then mouths at your folds, sucking one into his mouth and licking softly, then switching to the other. you’re both moaning at the sensation – you because every suckle brings you closer to your high and him because you taste, smell, and feel so sweet and delicious against his tongue. finally, he reaches the top and spreads apart your lower lips with two fingers, admiring the sight of your pert clit throbbing in anticipation and need.

you groan, eager and impatient, when jo stares for too long. you scratch at his undercut to get his attention and whine, “jo, hurry! want your mouth on me!”

obediently, he dips down and gingerly kisses your bud. you shiver at the light touch and cant your hips upward, urging him to continue. jo resumes, alternating between gentle pecks and quick sucks of your clit, which leaves you writhing and compounds your arousal. occasionally, he even hums, and the vibrations pinch at your bud and you yelp in surprise every time. you’re no longer holding onto his shoulders – you’re grabbing and tugging at the curls of your boyfriend’s hair and pressing your clit against his mouth and nose, desperate for release. jo supports your movements as his large, calloused hands cup your ass. lastly, jo adds in his tongue. the erratic, unpredictable switching between all of the different ways he can tease your oversensitive nub quickly sends you over, and as you scream and cum, your thoughts are fully consumed with the sensations of his mouth drinking up your release and his nose nudging against your clit to extend your climax. you’re wantonly rubbing yourself against jo, smearing your pussy messily against your boyfriend’s face, and your eyes roll back as he just takes it and laps at what he can.

“you’re so fucking good to me, princess,” he moans into your pussy. from his words, you feel one last crashing wave of your orgasm, pleasure overwhelming you for a little longer, before it begins to subside.

seeing that you’re coming down from your high, jo pulls away. he licks at his lips, savoring the remnants of your high, and watches as you begin to drift off. jo himself is finally feeling the drowsiness and settles next to you.

even as you’re losing consciousness, he whispers, “this is the best reward, baby.” you nuzzle into his warmth, mumble something incoherent, and fall asleep.

[eternally-racing]

superbowl sunday | logan sargeant

pairing: logan x reader

genre: fluff

wk: 1k (short n sweet xoxo)

summary: you want to do something special for your homesick boyfriend when he misses one of america's favorite unofficial holidays.

----

With the new season just around the corner, the Williams team was in full force putting together their finishing touches on pre-season testing and meetings. Unfortunately for you, that meant that Logan was putting in long hours at the factory, with the most you’re seeing of him sometimes being just his imprint on the bedsheets in the morning since he leaves so early in the morning and comes back even long after you go to sleep. 

Moving to Oxfordshire was a big step for the both of you. For Logan it was a no-brainer, even choosing to buy a place instead of renting helped show his commitment to the team, and how could you have possibly said no to him when he asked for you to join him? After all, in his words you are is home, no matter where he is in the world. While Logan may be used to living the European life, moving away from your all-American home was definitely a big culture shock. There were of course fun new experiences - first time getting lost in a new city, trying new cafes that you knew you would subsequently come to every week, and seeing the beautiful sights. At the same time there were the moments that absolutely tore you up to be away from home - Logan cried as he held you on Thanksgiving when all you really wanted was to be able to eat your mom’s Turkey stuffing, but then he subsequently called your mom and got her to send you a frozen portion in the mail. It only arrived 2 weeks later and there was a definite chance that the stomachache you got afterwards may have been due to it being slightly spoiled by the time it made it to your dinner table, but the action itself definitely warmed your heart. Even though you were definitely the baby when it came to missing home, you knew that there were a couple of days that got to him and today was definitely one of them. 

Logan’s back ached as he finally got out of what felt like a 10 hour long meeting about company branding that he couldn’t care less about. The one thing he’s grateful for is the plethora of window panes at the factory - if he’s going to be stuck inside all day it’s at least nice to see the sun rise and set each day over the horizon. There are some days where Formula 1 doesn’t feel as worth it, where he wishes that he was in his backyard in Florida playing soccer with his brother, his dad on grill while his mom nags them about not wearing enough sunscreen, but on days like that he at least gets to see you, usually. If only he had time to see you right now. If he rushed back to your apartment right now he would probably at least catch you getting ready for bed, but it feels selfish to keep you up sometimes. He knows just how much you sacrificed to be here with him, including working a remote job in a timezone that meant that you were up at the worst of hours for team meetings.

He expects to walk into a dark apartment, just like he has for the last 3 weeks - but instead he’s met with a completely different sight. 

It’s you, which is a sight enough to bring a smile to his face. But it’s not just you, but you’re surrounded by a a scene that he can only describe in two words. While he’s rendered speechless, you’re happy to steal the words from his mouth. 

“Happy Superbowl Sunday, babe.” 

Your apartment has all the staples from back home; chicken wings, seven layer dip, beer. If Logan’s  nutritionist took a look at your dining table right now he would probably have a heart attack, but Logan could care less about that right now. 

“I really lucked out that both teams have the color red so I only had to buy one color of balloons to cover my bases.” you giggle as Logan picks you up and spins you around. There’s tears starting to pool at the corner of his eyes and you understand the emotion you see in them all too well.

"I -, wow - , how did you - , I can't believe -" the words keep stumbling out of Logan's mouth as he's just in complete awe of what you pulled off for him.

You both take a second to cherish the moment, that the two of you get to do this together after so many weeks of not seeing each other. But soon after that you both settle onto the couch with more snacks than you could possibly ever consume surrounding the two of you on all sides. 

You’re actually only watching a recording of the game with how the time differences worked out, and it’s actually Monday night, late enough to be almost Tuesday in England by the time you turn on the television - but Logan is far too sleep deprived and overworked to notice. There’s definitely a non-zero chance he falls asleep by the time the 3rd quarter even starts, but you’re happy to at least fall asleep together as you cuddle into his side.

“Also we are cheering for…” Your voice trails off as a question since you actually have no idea who Logan likes out of these two teams.

“The 49ers babe, you would love them too if you knew the backstory” 

His comment makes you curious and while you’re scared of the can of worms you may be opening of being mansplained the history of the entire NFL, you ask him to explain and luckily he keeps it short and sweet.

“You always love cheering for an underdog, Y/N,” Logan says with a smile.

--

author's note: my new roman empire is the fact that logan was cheering for brock purdy in the super bowl 🥲 hope you all enjoyed this lil bit of logan fluff, until next time! - Em 🩷

[readychilledwine]

Crush

Summary - Deciding to take a yoga class may have been the best decision you've ever made

Warnings - plus size reader, discussions of gym culture and health

A/n - fic 3 for @cassianappreciationweek day 7! We get NSFW from here 💕

🗡Cassian Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

The clang of weights was almost as annoying as the front desk girl staring at you. You hated gyms, hated the judgment that came with walking into one, hated the way people stared at you as if you weren't the ideal person to actually be at a place for improving yourself. 

“Look,” you interrupted her politely, “I am fully aware I am paying more to take this class because I don't have a membership. Considering I'm just trying out this fitness thing, not really interested in spending $100 a month just then also pay $80 for the one class I'm interested in taking.” Her smiled dropped slightly as she just nodded and took your card, finishing your sign up for the yoga course you and 3 of your closest friends were trying. 

You knew she was just trying to meet her numbers, but it was something from gym culture you hated. The constant pushing to join their cult and have access to “everything” instead of just being able to pay for the classes you were interested in was crazy to you. The way gym culture pushed looking a certain way to be considered healthy and attractive also bothered you greatly. 

Health had to do with more than just the numbers on the scales. It had to do with your mind, your soul, and that was what you were here to work. Your mind and soul, and if you happened to gain some muscle strength from yoga, that was just an added bonus. You were all wanting to try yoga as a form of stress relief, relaxation, and self care.  No pressure, no expectations, just fun. 

The four of you were all laughing as you headed into the gym, not even bothering to stop and look at anyone or anything going on. In your mind, it was just a scene you'd watched hundreds of times. Ripped men showing off their muscles, gym girls vlogging their “workouts” in outfits you never would be caught wearing. You were here for you, not for the show someone thought they could put on for you.

Cassian was in a squat rack, watching you through the mirror as he stood with weights resting on his wide shoulders. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Every curve, every strand of hair. You were perfect in his eyes. Rhys followed his glance before grinning, “That's my assistant. Y/n!” 

You glanced up, instantly waving at Rhys and he waved back. He motioned for you to come over, “Hello, darling. What brings you here?”

“Yoga,” you shrugged. “Trying it for stress relief. Mean boss and all!” 

Rhysand laughed at your response, eyes sparkling, “You brought water?” You nodded to him. “Good, that room gets way too hot. I admire the yoga classes, but I can't do it. Oh! By the way,” he motioned to Cassian, “this is my brother, Cassian. You know Az from security.”

And that's when it began.

Two months. Two long months of you and Cassian trading no more than your names, smiles, and slightly flirtatious banter and digs at each other when you would cross paths at the water fountain. 

Today was his day, though. Today he'd finally ask if you wanted him to help you workout, and if you said no, he'd offer dinner instead. Rhys had been forced into telling him every detail of your life. He knew your favorite color, food, how you took coffee. He felt like he knew about you, but now he truly needed to know you.

He needed more than glances that left you blushing. Needed more than you making him go home and spend his night staring at the ceiling in his empty bed wondering if you liked him the way he liked you.

Today was his day. He knew it as he kept glancing at you.

Two months had sucked you into your own version of gym culture, and while your goal was still more the stress relief, you had to admit it was fun watching your booty get even better. You had to also admit deep down that you had other reasons for coming to the gym outside of yoga class, though. That reason was 6’5”, dark curly hair, swirling tribal tattoos, and looking oh so delicious in his black shorts today.

You reminded yourself you were mainly here to focus on you. To get yourself into your head space and earn the snacks waiting for you at home, and zeroed in on the goal of reaching 10,000 stairs by the end of the week.

You were deep into your workout and in your own world when Cassian approached, admiring each jiggle not so secretly, “So y/n.”

“MOTHER F-” you cover your mouth, slapping the emergency stop button and feeling his hand instantly stabilizing you by touching your back. “You scared me!”

“I can tell,” he chuckled back. “I was just wondering if you wanted to try free weights with me today? I spot you? Teach you some stuff?”

I blinked at him, “Really?” He nodded almost boyishly, a playful grin on his face. “I can't spot you, though.”

He motioned over her shoulder to your boss and Azriel, “They exist still. Unfortunately.”

You bit your lip, knowing you'd look so out of place beside the 3 of them. “Cassian, I don't really work out to be-”

“You work out to take care of stress and eat whatever snacks you want. I know. Rhys told me. You'll get tired of cardio soon, so learning another area wouldn't hurt.”

You glared towards Rhys, “Traitor.”

“Is that a yes?”

You sighed and nodded, wiping down the handles of the machine you were on before letting him pull you over to Rhys and Azriel.

One workout became two. Two became twice a week. Twice a week became him coming over and enjoying snacks and a movie. Snacks and movie became dinner with Cassian at an expensive restaurant with Rhys, his wife, Feyre, Azriel, and his possibly girlfriend, Nesta. 

The table was silent as Cassian ordered a fairly unhealthy pasta, ate bread with you, and then shared dessert. It had been so long since they watched him genuinely enjoy food. “Cheat day,” he said casually as Azriel raised a brow at him. “I'm trying to mix y/n's work out to eat what she wants into my lifestyle once a week.” 

“He seems to like our snack and movie nights,” you glanced up at him, to you just admiring the way he smiled. But to the rest of the table, it was clear the gym crush you two shared was becoming much much more. Azriel slipped Rhys money under the table, conceding that he had won the bet. 

“Y/n told me a lot of research shows a cheat day is actually better for you than 7 hard days,” Cassian took another bite of the melted chocolate fudge brownie. “So we have a cheat day now on Sunday. We call it Sinday.”

“We still do a light walk,” you offered as Rhys looked confused. “But more of a “find some wilderness and explore walk than follow this beaten path one.” That dinner turned into many more. It turned into meeting each other's families. To merging friend groups. 

No activity you two tried topped the gym together. Especially after Cassian built and began running his own. His gym was built to cater to those who'd never felt welcomed. One way windows so the people inside could look out, but no one would see in. A mirror room dedicated to progress selfies to stop people from capturing a stranger in their pictures, a strict no bullying policy. He had made a safe haven for those who were serious about their workouts, and those who were just starting, and you could not have been more proud, especially now that you were teaching yoga and hot yoga classes there.

You two posed in the mirror, sweat dripping down him as he flexed and you kissed his cheek with your leg popped up, waiting for the camera to click breaking the no selfies on the main workout floor rule.

“Gross,” Azriel yelled. “Focus on training you two!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cassian shot back. “I'm coming. Enjoy yoga, baby.”

“I will. Snacks tonight?”

“Absolutely,” he answered. “Those little no bake cookie balls would be so good."

"Oh, yeah. We'll pick those up!"

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[schlattsdoll]

Imagine going to the streamer awards with Schlatt (you’re not a streamer) and if he wins something then once you all get home he makes you cum as many times as he can as a celebration type thing

celebrate- jschlatt

minors dni

paring: schlatt x fem/afab! reader

warnings: smut {18+}, mentions of overstim, schlatt being a horny mf, overuse of pet names {im sorry}

to be quite honest with you, schlatt didn’t even want to go to the streamies. it wasn’t his scene and he was confident in the fact he wasn’t going to win. what sold him on it was seeing you in a tight dress. he took you shopping that morning, you two decided on wearing purple, the color of royalty as you told him. “makes sense, got my beautiful princess so that makes me a king.”

it was almost time to leave as you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup. “doll, we gotta go.” schlatt held your hand as you slid on your heels and even fixed the buckles for you. the tight sequined dress hugged your curves perfectly, the purple complementing your complexion.

“absolutely stunning.” your boyfriend commented with a wolf whistle. “whaddya say we skip this thing? i could do that thing ya like with my tongue.” he smirked and kissed up your neck. “jay, no. this is a big night for you! we have to go, that’s that.” you pushed the larger man away from you and frantically tried to fix your hair.

the car ride to the venue was so exciting for you. having only been with schlatt a few months, you hadn’t been to a streamers event before. “this is gonna be so fun jay! we’re gonna take pictures and you’re nominated! i think you’re gonna win personally.”

he rolled his eyes at the thought of him winning. “‘m glad you’re excited toots. at least one of us is.” you knew he wasn’t the biggest fan of going out, much rather wanting to spend the night back home in austin with you and jambo instead of being in smoggy old la. “c’mon baby, you’ll have fun trust me.” “i think having you bent over the bed would be more fun but okay.” he muttered under his breath.

you were right of course, sitting at the table with his fellow nominees ted and charlie, he started to loosen up a bit. drinks were flowing, laughs were being had, and schlatt started to ease up. “the nominees for best new podcast are…” ethan nestor started reading out their category. “oooh baby listen up!”

schlatt felt his nerves jump back up, he didn’t care about winning honestly. you were just so excited for him and the guys, he didn’t want to disappoint you.

“and the winners of best new podcast are….” you held schlatts hand tightly with one hand while you bit your nails on the other. “chuckle sandwich!” a camera panned over to your table and the guys all got up to go on stage, right after kissing their dates.

“thank you all so much for this amazing award, i think i speak for all of us when i say we definitely didn’t expect to be nominated let alone win. thank you to the fans for tuning in every week and we hope you keep listening!” ted spoke eloquently, a perfect acceptance speech; short and sweet.

once back at the table, his hand made its way to your thigh. “hey doll, don’tcha think i deserve a winner’s reward when we get back to the hotel?” he whispered in your ear then kissed your neck. his hand rubbed your thigh, inching closer and closer to your core. you squeezed them closer together, attempting to block his hand from his target.

the rest of the event was quite draining. all you could focus on was what schlatt was going to do to you later that evening. finally you got to leave and instead of going to the after party, you faked being sick. “sorry guys, im not feeling so hot. i better sit this one out. jay, you don’t mind not going do you? i feel so bad.” you pleaded with the large man, who knew you were faking it. “yeah guys, let’s do a rain check for next chuckle week. gotta make sure my baby’s feelin’ alright.” schlatt wrapped his jacket around you, and walked you towards his car. “congratulations again guys!”

the drive home was an entirely different vibe, schlatts hand was ghosting against your center, teasing you through your underwear. “couldn’t even wait for me to celebrate with my friends? needed me that badly huh doll?” he smirked at you while his fingers grabbed a hold of your panties and pulled them to the side. “s’fuckin’ wet for me…”

his large digits found their way to your clit, rubbing soft slow circles. “that’s it. atta girl. you looked so pretty tonight sweetheart. wanted to take you into a bathroom and fuck the shit outta ya.” your back arched into the seat at his words. “oh you like that idea don’t you princess? me taking care of this sweet cunt wherever i want it, not caring who sees me with what’s mine.”

his fingers speed up, causing you to grip tighter on the center console, “fuck jay, don’t stop. ‘m gonna cum.” “that’s right, cum for daddy.”

the car stopped moving, pulling into the hotel’s lot where schlatt waited until your orgasm subsided to help you out and into the room. once there, he tossed you onto the bed. “i believe i was promised the thing i like?” you smirked up at him.

dropping down to his knees and taking the headband out of his hair, he pulled you closer to the edge. “i’m a man of my word doll. but i’m gonna make you cum so many times you’re gonna cry.”

and once again, schlatt was a man of his word.

[dunmeshistash]

hey was wondering did thisle fr die ? since we saw the lion eat his desire and he been asleep for a long while and in his last panels with ``delgal`` he seemed to barely be able to move or talk and didnt eat so it gave off that he is in his dead bed. which id like to see your view in the matter ( im coping ;-; )

I read this manga start to finish twice before I realized people thought he died at the end, none of the two times I read the ending I thought died? Like it didn't even cross my mind it was a possibility before someone else asked me if he died and I was like "no???"

So I have strong feelings about it lol

To me that was about him finally letting go of the fear that kept the kingdom underground and the curse that kept the people immortal, like he finally relaxed he didn't have to shoulder the fear of death from Delgal anymore so the curse was lifted.

The arguments I see for him dying is

He didn't eat what Delgal Offered

Melini is no longer underground

It's a poetic ending

To those I say that Mithrun had 10 years of rehabilitation before he could do anything including eating properly and even now its hard to feed him, but he lives. Plus golden kingdom people don't have to eat and the curse was still in effect even after his desires were eaten. So he's not starving to death here.

His timeline ends with "Escaped from the dungeon on Yaad's back"

They made a point to say even if the Demon ate your desires you can create new ones

Yaad talks about how THEY are part of the circle of life

Thistle had a curse keeping the kingdom underground and a curse of immortality over the people, he lifted both curses when he realized he didn't have to worry about it anymore but nobody died right away, so why would only thistle die?

Instead of peacefully passing away this is what happened to Mithrun

Death isn't poetic or beautiful irl so I don't see how in the biology manga he just up and died in that scene for giving up but still looking otherwise healthy

Anyway I might just be coping but I don't think only thistle OF ALL characters would die, even the corpse retrievers that were thrown on the water show up at the end, and there's nothing confirming or denying his death so if Ryoko Kui did decide he died she decided to keep it vague for some reason and I chose to think he's alive going thru rehab.

[hellodarling1357]

Tiny Toes: Part 6.3 - Cassian x Reader

I turned on my laptop to write the next part of Flames and Embers (got half way through) but ended up finishing this instead...

Again, this is part of the mini series within the Tiny Toes series that explores different scenarios where Ottie calls Y/N mum for the first time. There's 3ish parts left then we'll be getting back on track!

Summary: Girl's trip + an emotional Ottie + lots of Cassian/Ottie moments

Word Count: 2k

You can read the previous part here

You had been away for the past three nights on a girl’s trip and Cassian hated the fact that he was struggling so much without you by his side. Initially, you had been hesitant, knowing that it was a busy and crucial time for Cassian when it came to his work, and you hadn’t wanted to leave him alone to juggle Ottie as well as everything else by himself but, at his insistence that you deserved a getaway with your friends, you had finally agreed.

Cassian was more than willing to admit that, after just a few days without you, he was missing you like nothing else. Just knowing that you wouldn’t be there when he got home, wouldn’t be there to witness Ottie growing more and more every day, or be there to simply talk to at the end of the day when you were finally cuddled up together in bed was driving him crazy. But it was Ottie who seemed to be struggling the most.

Even though you and Cassian had only been together for a little over a year, you had been a constant in Ottie’s life since she was just a few months old. Now, the temperamental three-year-old was at a complete and utter loss without you being around all the time and hadn’t adjusted all that well to the changes in her daily routine that came from your absence. Cassian did his best to fill the space you left but there was only so much he could shift his work around at the moment, especially with the newest intake of Valkyries being almost double compared to the previous year.

He had left Ottie with the new babysitter for a few hours that morning while he met up with Azriel to undergo the initial Valkyrie training session then, after a quick grocery run, he had returned home to find Ottie sobbing into a couch cushion as the babysitter helplessly watched on from the doorway.

“I’m so sorry, I tried everything, but she just wouldn’t stop. I don’t know what’s wrong. I didn’t know what to do…”

Cassian brushed off her words, noting the babysitter looked close to tears herself. “It’s fine, she’s been a bit out of sorts the past few days, it’s got nothing to do with you. Don’t worry about it.” He offered her a tentative smile as she made her escape out the front door and then made his way over to Ottie, brows furrowing as he took in the scene before him.

“Hi, princess,” He cooed, carefully picking Ottie up and sitting back down on the couch with her cuddled against his chest. Cassian felt his heart break as her increasing sobs wracked through her body, little fists desperately clinging to his shirt as she hid her face in the crook of his neck, tears quickly dampening his skin. “What are we going to do with you, hey?”

The minutes ticked by as they sat in silence, Cassian rubbing soothing circles along her back while his other hand cupped the back of her head where he pressed gentle kisses against her hair. When Ottie’s sobs started to turn into quiet sniffles, Cassian stood up, shifting her to rest on his hip as he walked into the kitchen. He began to silently pull out all of the ingredients he needed to make their ‘special’ hot chocolate – milk, chocolate power, solid chocolate, and sprinkles.

“Daddy?” Ottie’s voice was hoarse when she finally lifted her head away from his chest. “Are you – are you making special hot chocolate?”

“I am,” he replied, wanting to keep things simple so as not to overwhelm her. Without a word, he passed her a piece of the chocolate which she cautiously took, it wasn’t until he popped a piece in his own mouth and wiggled his eyebrows at her did she finally eat her piece with a small, shaky giggle.

“There she is,” Cassian marvelled at the immediate relief that came from seeing his daughter smile after being so upset only moments ago. “Want to talk about what happened, sweet pea? Or should we have our hot chocolates first?”

Ottie hid her face against his neck again and remained silent – clearly it would be hot chocolates then talking.

A few more moments passed by as Cassian haphazardly put the two drinks together with one hand, the other still tightly holding Ottie against him. “Alright, princess, I’m going to put you down now, alright? Just so I can carry over our hot chocolates to the couch.”

Her bottom lip trembled slightly as she looked up at Cassian with wide and wary eyes, “then we can cuddle?”

“Then we can cuddle.” Cassian affirmed, waiting until Ottie gave a small nod of her head before lowering her back down to the ground.

Stacking the dishes in the sink, Cassian picked up both mugs and walked over to the couch, Ottie, with a hand clutching the hem of his shirt, didn’t leave his side for a moment. As soon as the mugs were set down on the coffee table, she was scrambling back into his arms, sniffing again as her eyes teared up and her lip pouted out in a slight tremble.

Cassian let out a soft sigh and wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her cheek then the top of her head as she rested her face against his chest, murmuring soothing words before the tears could start falling again.

“You’re alright, princess. It’s alright.”

As much as his heart ached seeing her like this, there was a small part of him that relished in the fact that she still found comfort in his arms, that she was still his little girl despite having seemingly picked up the attitude of a teenager ten years too early for his liking.

Noticing Ottie making grabbing hands for her hot chocolate, Cassian leant forward to pick the mug up, carefully blowing on its contents to check the temperature before holding it out to her. Ottie sat up against him as she took the mug in both hands, silently taking small sips as she stared at him with a small frown over the rim of the mug.

“Why aren’t you drinking your hot chocolate, daddy?”

Cassian blinked, realising he had been so caught up in watching over her, making sure she was alright, that his own drink sat untouched. “Oh, I forgot about it. I would lose my head if I didn’t have you looking out for me, Otts,” he said, taking a sip from his own mug and letting a grin spread across his face as Ottie giggled.

“You’re silly, daddy.”

They sat in silence as they finished their drinks, Ottie letting out a big sigh when she was done before slumping against Cassian, clear exhaustion taking over her whole body as she sank into him, pulling his arms tightly around her once the now-empty mugs were back on the coffee table.

Soft, even breathing soon filled the room, and, with a small glance down at his daughter, Cassian could see that Ottie was now fast asleep against him. He shifted into a more comfortable position, keeping one arm tightly wrapped around her as he picked up a discarded book and started reading through it to pass the time.

*****

An hour or so had slipped by and Cassian knew he should be getting a start on dinner, but the thought of disturbing Ottie now when she finally looked so peaceful kept him in his spot. He let his mind slip to you, an easy feeling filling his chest as he realised you would be coming home tomorrow.

Cassian was incredibly grateful for how his life had turned out, despite the bumps along the way, as it had ultimately led him to Ottie and then to you. He knew none of it would have been possible without the mating bond with Nesta yet… a part of him yearned to have that with you, to be tied and connected to you in such an intimate way. He wanted there to be a way for you to know he was thinking about you, even if you were hundreds of miles apart. Cassian sighed at the resentment that churned within him at the thought of that wasted mating bond with Nesta, not understanding how such a thing had been granted by the Cauldron when they were clearly so wrong for one another.

A sudden intake of breath followed by a yawn pulled Cassian from his thoughts as he looked down at Ottie who was sleepily blinking up at him.

“Looks like someone was a bit sleepy,” he teased, pressing a kiss to the top of Ottie’s head as she shifted in his lap to sit up properly. “Do you want to play for a bit while I get a start on dinner?” Ottie made a disgruntled noise and clung to him again, tears welling in her eyes once more. “Or we can both make dinner? How does that sound?”

Cassian stood up, carefully placing her back onto the ground, only realising it was the wrong thing to do a second too late as her bottom lip began to tremble.

“Ottie…” he tried, but whether it was the pent-up emotions from the past few days or the fact that she had just woken up, Cassian knew there would be no quick fix in consoling her this time. He pulled her back into his arms as she started sobbing again. “Ottie, you need to tell me what’s wrong, otherwise daddy won’t be able to help you.”

Tightening her arms around him, Ottie took in a few deep breaths between sobs, “w-where – where’s my m-mum…”

Fuck, this was not good.

Cassian forced himself not to tense up as her words processed in his mind. “Princess–”

“I-I want my mummy.” Once the words were out, Ottie immediately dissolved into another fit of tears, the sobs wracking throughout her whole body as Cassian desperately tried to think of something, anything, that would help him navigate this. He had told Ottie about Nesta before, explained what had happened in a way that she would understand, but she hadn’t been in an inconsolable state then, desperately asking for her mum. Was that the best thing for Ottie? Reaching out to Nesta? Seeing if she wanted to be in her life in some way… His thoughts began to spiral at all the possibilities and potential outcomes. What if Nesta agreed and then decided she wanted Ottie with her now that she was a bit older. Complete and utter dread filled him at the thought –

“What’s going on here?”

Cassian’s eyes shot up, not knowing a time when he had ever felt so flooded with relief and longing at the sight of you standing in the doorway, bag slung over your shoulder as you took in the scene before you in concern.

Ottie’s head shot up just as quickly as the sound of your voice filled the space between her sobs, then she was pulling out of Cassian’s arms and running, reaching you just in time as you dropped your bag and knelt down on the ground before her.

Cassian leant back on his knees and let out a sigh as he gave you a smile that you instantly returned over Ottie’s shoulder, then you were turning your attention back to the small Illyrian, gently wiping away her tears as you ran a hand through her curls before pulling her into a hug.

He watched as Ottie immediately melted into you, he could visibly see the tension and uncertainty she had been carrying for the past few days slip away as she tightly held onto you. And as he watched you pull away, pressing a kiss to her cheek before whispering something in her ear that had the room filling with the melodic sound of his daughter’s laughter, he knew Nesta hadn’t been the mum she was asking for.

*****

Read Part 6.4 now!

*****

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[archiveofvirtue]

college sweethearts — sam winchester

content: sam winchester x female!oc, use of y/n, fluff, stanford sam, pre season one sam, college sweethearts, friends to lovers, mentions of alcohol, drunk reader, 2.7k words

summary: it's been no secret that you have the biggest crush on your friend Sam, it is so obvious that even Sam himself knows about it. As you are on your way home from a college party your intoxicated body almost independently moves towards his dorm, the alcohol in your system making you have the courage to finally let him know how you feel, but will it change anything or just mess up your friendship?

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Your laughter echoed through the dimly lit campus as you stumbled alongside your friends, the night still alive with the buzz of music and laughter from the bar you all had just left. The cool night air nipped at your flushed cheeks, but the warmth of the alcohol in your system kept the chill at bay. You weren't just tipsy; you were drunk, and in that intoxicated haze, a single thought began to dominate your mind..

Sam Winchester.

You always had a thing for Sam. He wasn't like the other guys in your college—where others were loud, boisterous, and rowdy, Sam was calm, reserved, and a little mysterious. There was a gentle kindness in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat every time he looked at you. He wasn't one to party, preferring instead to bury himself in books or work on his assignments. You admired that about him, even though it meant he never joined in on the nights out with your friend group.

Your friends were still giggling over something as they walked ahead, but your attention was somewhere else entirely. You were suddenly gripped by an impulsive idea—a terrible, wonderful, alcohol-fueled idea. Without thinking it through, you veered off from the group, mumbling something about needing to go back to the dorms. Your friends barely noticed, too wrapped up in their own conversations.

Your feet carried you almost automatically to Sam's dorm. You had been there before, of course, but never like this. It was well past 2am, and the campus was quiet, most students either still out or already asleep. Your pulse quickened as you reached his door, a rush of nerves mixing with the alcohol in your veins.

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should really do this. But the liquid courage surged up again, and you knocked, too loudly, on his door.

Inside, Sam was typing the last few lines of his paper. He had a deadline to meet, and while most of his classmates had been out enjoying their Friday night, he had been stuck in his room, working. He didn't mind though—this was how he preferred it. The quiet of the night allowed him to focus, and he was close to finishing.

The knock startled him, his hands pausing over the keyboard. Who could be knocking at his door at this hour? He wasn't expecting anyone. With a frown, he stood up and crossed the room, opening the door cautiously.

There stood your figure, hair slightly tousled, your eyes bright but unfocused. Your smile was a bit lopsided, and you looked up at him with a mix of nervousness and determination.

"Y/N?" Sam's voice was surprised but soft. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you," you said, your words slightly slurred. "I was out with the girls, and...I don't know, I just...wanted to see you."

Sam sighed, glancing down the hallway before gently pulling you inside. "You shouldn't be wandering around alone at this hour," he chided, though his tone was more concerned than anything.

You let him guide you into the room, where you plopped down on his bed, giggling. "I know, I know. But I missed you. You never come out with us, Sam. Why don't you ever come out with us?"

He smiled a little, closing the door behind you and leaning against his desk. "You know I'm not really into that scene," he said, watching you as you layed back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"I think you'd have fun," you murmured. "I'd make sure of it."

There was something about the way you said it, a note of vulnerability beneath your playful words, that made Sam's heart ache a little. He had known for a while that you had a crush on him—it wasn't exactly a secret. And the truth was, he liked you too, more than he probably should. But he had always kept a respectful distance, not wanting to lead you on, especially since he wasn't sure where his feelings might lead.

You rolled over, propping yourself up on one elbow, gaze locking with his. "Sam..." you started, voice a little more serious now. "Why don't you ever make a move?"

The question hung in the air between you two, heavy with the weight of unspoken feelings. Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Y/N, you're drunk," he said gently. "This isn't the right time for this conversation."

"Maybe not," you admitted, eyes dropping to the floor. "But it's how I feel. And I think you feel something too. Or am I wrong?"

Sam didn't answer immediately. He walked over to the bed and sat down next to you, his gaze fixed on the floor. "You're not wrong," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't want to take advantage of how you're feeling right now."

You sat up, expression softening as you reached out to take his hand. "Sam, I might be drunk, but I'm not lying. I like you. I really like you."

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a moment, he saw a future where he could let himself fall for you completely, while gently caressing the back of your hand. The tension between you two seemed to thicken, growing heavier with every passing second. Your blurry gaze lingered on him, eyes soft and vulnerable, lips slightly parted as you were about to speak—but no words came out. The silence between you two wasn't awkward, but charged, like the air before a storm.

Sam felt it too, the pull between you, the way your proximity sent a strange warmth rushing through him. He had always been careful around you, keeping a polite distance, but tonight—tonight felt different. Your eyes were searching his face for something, breath slow and uneven, and for the first time, Sam allowed himself to really see you, to acknowledge the feelings he'd buried so deeply.

"Sam..." you whispered, voice barely audible, and before he could process what was happening, you leaned in. Your lips hovered near his, breath warm against his skin, and for a split second, Sam felt his resolve begin to crumble. His heart raced, and his hand instinctively reached up to brush a strand of your hair from your face. You were so close, eyes half-closed, and for a moment, he could picture it—the two of them crossing that invisible line.

Your lips touched his, soft and hesitant, and Sam nearly gave in, nearly let himself fall into the moment. He kissed you back, just for a heartbeat, and it was everything you'd imagined—sweet and tender.

But then, reality hit Sam like a wave. The taste of alcohol on your lips, the slight stumble in your movements—you were drunk. And as much as he wanted this, he couldn't let it happen like this.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss gently but firmly, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders, keeping a small but significant distance between you two.

"Y/N," he breathed out, his voice thick with emotion. "We can't. Not like this."

Your eyes fluttered open, confusion and hurt flashing across your face. "Why?" You asked softly, voice tinged with sadness. "I thought you wanted this too..."

"I do," Sam admitted, his thumb brushing the back of your hand again. "I really do. But you're not sober right now. And I don't want us to do something you'll regret in the morning."

You stared at him, your expression shifting from disappointment to understanding. He was right.

You lowered your head, shoulders slumping slightly as you nodded. "You're right," you whispered. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have—"

"Hey," Sam interrupted, gently lifting your chin so your eyes met again. "You don't need to apologize. I just want to make sure we do this right. So let's talk about this once you're sober, okay?"

For a moment, you just looked at him, eyes searching his for reassurance. It wasn't rejection, but more of a promise, that when it happened, it would be real, and it would be right.

You two sat there in silence for a few moments, the tension from before easing into something more comfortable. Your eyes were starting to droop, the night finally catching up with you. Sam noticed and stood up, pulling a blanket from the end of his bed and wrapping it around your shoulders.

"You can sleep here tonight," he said softly. "I'll take the chair."

You wanted to protest, to tell him he didn't have to do that, but your eyelids were too heavy, and the warmth of the blanket was too inviting. "Okay," you mumbled, already half asleep.

As you drifted off, Sam sat back down at his desk, his paper forgotten. His thoughts were too tangled to focus on anything else. He watched you for a moment, your face peaceful in sleep, and he knew he had a lot to think about.

But for now, he was content just to watch over you, keeping you safe through the night.

In the morning you stirred awake, the light of the early hours filtering through the thin curtains. Your head pounded, a dull reminder of the night before, and you groaned softly, pressing a hand to your temple. The unfamiliar softness beneath you made you frown in confusion, bleary eyes taking in the room around you.

This wasn't your dorm room.

Panic surged through you, dispelling the last remnants of sleep. You sat up quickly, heart racing as you tried to piece together where you were and how you had gotten here. The room was neat, sparsely decorated with books stacked on a desk, a laptop sitting open next to a pile of papers. It was a guy's room, that much was obvious, but—

Then it hit you. Sam. This was Sam's room.

The memories from the previous night began to trickle back, one by one. The girls' night out, the drinks, your impulsive decision to stop by Sam's dorm, the confession you'd made while drunk out of your mind, the kiss. Heat flooded your cheeks as you recalled the way you'd practically thrown yourself at him, only for him to gently but firmly turn you down.

"Oh my God," you whispered to yourself, burying your face in your hands. The embarrassment was overwhelming, making your stomach twist. You couldn't believe you had done that, that you had put Sam in such an awkward position. And now, you were in his room, wearing the same clothes from the night before, makeup smudged, and your hair a mess.

You glanced over to the chair beside the bed, where a blanket lay crumpled. Sam must have slept there, giving up his bed for you. Your heart ached with both gratitude and shame. He had been nothing but kind and respectful, even when you had obviously crossed a line.

You needed to get out of there before he came back. You weren't ready to face him, not with everything still so fresh in your mind. You couldn't bear the thought of seeing the pity—or worse, the awkwardness—in his eyes.

Slipping out of bed as quietly as possible, you grabbed your shoes, which had been neatly placed by the door, and tiptoed toward the exit. You figured you could slip out, go back to your own dorm, and maybe—just maybe—you could pretend this never happened. You could ghost him for a while, let things cool down, and hope the next time you two saw each other, it wouldn't be as humiliating as this.

Your hand was on the doorknob, ready to twist it open, when the door suddenly swung inward, revealing Sam on the other side.

You froze, shoes in one hand, your face burning as your eyes met.

"Y/N," Sam said, his voice warm with surprise. He was holding two paper cups of coffee, and his expression softened when he saw you standing there, clearly about to bolt. "Hey, I was just coming back."

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the tension from last night hanging between the two of you. Your mind raced, trying to come up with something, anything, to say. But all you could manage was a weak, "Hi."

Sam smiled gently, holding out one of the coffee cups. "I got you some coffee. Thought you might need it."

You hesitated, your embarrassment still raw, but the kindness in his gesture was impossible to ignore. Slowly, you took the cup from him, your fingers brushing his for the briefest moment. "Thanks," you murmured, looking down at the cup as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

Sam stepped back, allowing you to move away from the door, and you reluctantly let go of the doorknob, returning to the center of the room. The silence stretched out between you, thick with unspoken words.

"You didn't have to do that," you finally said, voice small. "The coffee, I mean. Or...any of this."

Sam set his own cup down on the desk and turned to face you fully. "I wanted to," he said simply. "Y/N, about last night..."

Your heart sank at the words, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. "Look, Sam, I'm really sorry about everything. I was drunk and stupid, and I shouldn't have put you in that position. I totally understand if you're upset or if things are weird now. I was just going to leave, so you didn't have to deal with—"

"Hey, stop," Sam interrupted gently, taking a step closer. "I'm not upset. And things don't have to be weird unless we let them."

You looked at him, confused. "But I...what I said last night..."

"You were honest," Sam said, his voice steady. "Maybe it wasn't the best timing, and yeah, you were drunk, but I know those feelings are real. I've been thinking about what you said."

You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. "And?"

"And I don't want you to feel embarrassed about it," he continued, his eyes sincere. "I like you, y/n. I always have. But I wanted to make sure that if we talked about this, we were both in the right headspace. I didn't want to take advantage of how you were feeling last night."

A tiny flicker of hope ignited in your chest, but you were still wary, still nervous about what this all meant. "So...where does that leave us?" You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Sam smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made your heart flutter. "It leaves us wherever we want to go," he said. "We can take things slow, talk about it more when you're ready, but I don't want to pretend like last night didn't happen. I care about you, y/n."

Relief washed over you, mingling with a cautious excitement. You still felt a little embarrassed, but the fact that Sam was willing to talk about this, to move forward without judgment, made it easier to breathe.

"Okay," you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I'd like that."

Sam's expression brightened, and he reached out, gently taking your hand in his. "Good," he said. "How about we start with breakfast? I know a place off-campus that has the best pancakes."

You laughed, the sound light and free, the tension finally beginning to ease. "That sounds perfect."

As you two left the room together, side by side, you felt the embarrassment of the night before slowly fading into something far less daunting. You weren't sure where this was going, but for the first time, you weren't scared of finding out.