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zstartrixxx · 1 month ago

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𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝑨 𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹. (𝒀𝑶𝑼'𝑽𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑼𝑻𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑹)

²⁰⁰⁰ˢꜝʳᵉᵐᵐᶦᶜᵏ ˣ ᶠᵉᵐꜝʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: 𝐘𝐄𝐒 | 𝐍𝐎

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: On a night of apparent peace, you answer the door of the rented house to a stranger who swears up and down that he also leased the very same property... It's not what you're imagining. 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: TO CELEBRATE OUR 200 BILLION FOLLOWERS IN STYLE (kskskskskksks now seriously: tkysm for the 200 followers, it's been a little over a month since i created this blog with face, heart and courage to post my fanfics without any grand expectations, so everything that's happening is fucked up :)

i’m humbly offering this fic that i affectionately call a 'FUN-FANFICTION'—funnier, silly and way more chaotic than my usual smut-heavy or over-the-top dramatic plots. think of it as your post-chill pill after a long day!!! to everyone reading this: thank you for your time, your love, and for being here. i adore you as much as i adore jackie's chars. <3 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: +18 ADULT CONTENT. vampirism & gore (bite and blood), smut: oral (m!receive) and unproteced penetration, a lil' bite of monsterfucker; weirdo!remmick (he's a really freaky here idk :) lmk if i forget smt ;) 𝐖𝐂: 3.5k for whoever is going to read it, a great read! <3 likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖬𝖨𝖢𝖪 𝖯𝖫𝖠𝖸𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳 | 𝖬𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳

"i wanna to watch the way, you creep across the night sky. you slowly enter, because you know my room; and then you crawl your knees off and then you shake my tomb..." (you've seen the butcher, deftones).

"A monster cannot be loved...

I always believed this with the same fervor as my faith in the saints and gods that surrounded me since childhood, when my parents took me on morning walks to the cemetery to honor those who came before me - from whom all wisdom originated. My great-grandmother's imposing marble mausoleum, with a winged guardian angel crushing a serpent's head, was my favorite place to be. That was a long time ago. My life changed when—"

A noise snapped you out of your trance.

You were surprised—you weren't expecting anyone at that house. You looked at your laptop clock: it was past nine in the evening. You raised your eyes to the window in front of you, facing the neighbor's house, the glass speckled with raindrops. The noise continued—someone was frantically twisting the doorknob, almost desperately, then stopping for a few seconds, making you think you were finally alone again—only for the noises to return, now more intense: fists pounding against the door, a deep voice in the background shouting "Hey!", completely breaking your concentration. You rolled your eyes, slamming your laptop shut, walking the short distance between the kitchen and living room, grabbing your fluffy white robe thrown over the back of the couch, to peer suspiciously through the peephole, trying to see who could be there at this hour on an ordinary Wednesday night in the middle of the rain.

A shadow passed by, obstructing your view. With no light on the porch, the faint glow from the quiet street only revealed outlines and shadows. With your palms flat against the door, you were startled by another violent shake, the deep, affected voice invading through the door crack:

"Hey! Open up! Let me in... Shit!"

You frowned, one hand on the metal doorknob and the other on the key, wondering if it was wise to open it for whoever was outside. You couldn't take another loud knock, long and insistent, turning the key in the lock with a click, twisting the knob, opening the door to find a drenched man just inches away from you. Holding onto the security chain that limited your field of vision, the man's face lit up with relief, arms crossed, raindrops falling from his brown almost black hair as he peered into the house with those dark blue eyes:

"Miss, sorry for the hour, but there must have been a mistake..."

"What mistake?" you asked, genuinely curious, looking him up and down: casual clothes, a black hoodie with the hood down, navy blue jeans, scuffed sneakers, and beside him a military-green camping backpack with what looked like a string instrument case leaning against it. You stared at him again, even more intrigued by the strange visitor, who was rubbing his hands together:

"Look, I don't want to sound weird or anything, miss, but this must be a mix-up! I rented this place for a few days to stay for a couple weeks, but when I got here, I couldn't find the key anywhere and, well... Now seeing you here, I think we've got a problem."

"Are you sure it's this house?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. He widened his eyes, nodding - pulling a worn leather wallet from his pants pocket, fishing out a crumpled piece of paper from between a wad of crumpled bills, extending his slightly trembling hand to you, likely from the cold. Behind him, the rain intensified, splashing onto the poor guy and onto you; the stranger pulled up his hood, casting his striking features into noisy darkness. You shrugged, taking the paper between your fingers, stepping back to smooth it out and read its contents under the indoor light, aloud:

"Blah-blah-blah... Temporary tenant Remmick... Blah-blah-blah, Zero-Six Street... Hmm, authorized stay from today until... Granted permission to occupy hereby..." You looked up at him, startled. The stranger—or rather, Remmick—raised his eyebrows at you:

"Believe me now?"

"Okay, fine... But what do we do?"

"Look, I don't want to be pessimistic, but this town is one of those weird ones where taxis only run at certain times and specific places, and the cabbie who dropped me off said I either walk back or find somewhere to stay... And with this rain, it'd be pretty shitty to leave me out here."

"Are you really sure you want to come in?"; Your voice came out dark, a glint passing through your eyes. An enigmatic little smile appeared at the corner of the man's lips as he lowered his hood again, putting on a pleading expression with puppy-dog eyes:

"Just one night, miss. Just so I don't catch a cold. One night—" He raised an index finger, flashing a convincing little smile: "—one night, and I promise I'll be a ghost to you. You won't even notice I'm here."

Your eyes shifted from him to the unrelenting rain behind him.

You glanced over your shoulder, where that empty house seemed to invite you to take in this poor guy, who wasn't to blame for his bad luck. In the end, you'd both come out ahead, right?

Convinced, you nodded affirmatively, unlatching the chain with a click. Before Remmick could enter, you stopped him once more, a hand extended, fingertips lightly brushing his chest, your eyes piercing into his, which gleamed with a hot-blue intensity as they locked onto you:

"Are you absolutely sure you want to come in?"

"Absolutely, miss. Don't ask me twice..." He shrugged as he stepped past you, carrying his things inside. Before closing the door, you took one last look at that street of houses with only a few lights on, a desolate place almost lost in that small town.

The night would be long.

Remmick didn't shut up for a single second. But it didn't bother you at all—quite the opposite. You were genuinely interested in what he had to say, the stories about failed gigs—while refilling another mug of cheap wine you'd found in the fridge—he told you about the time the band's car broke down in the middle of the highway:

"...I swear to God! There I was with the guys when boom!, the tire blew. We got out, in the middle of absolute nowhere, on one of those dirt roads connecting Nevada to California, you know? And the worst part..." He started laughing at the memory, the two of you sitting on the three-seater couch in the living room, the tube TV tuned to MTV, where nu-metal videos played. Remmick had showered, radiating warmth that smelled like chamomile and mint shampoo. He wore a simple black t-shirt that revealed a tattoo on his right inner bicep, gray sweatpants, barefoot—completely at ease, as if you were old friends reuniting after time apart.

He sipped his wine. You laughed:

"And the worst part was what?" Sitting beside him, you'd taken advantage of his shower time to change into your pajamas: an oversized band t-shirt, black cotton shorts, the robe still covering the more exposed areas. Even so, every now and then you caught a pair of ocean-blue eyes glancing at you, trying to catch a glimpse of skin through the robe's opening or your slightest movement. Remmick wiped a trickle of wine from his chin:

"The worst part was that we stopped right in front of one of those roadside motels. But not just any motel—one of those for couples, you know? And there must've been an orgy or something going on, because it was fucking awkward..."

You burst out laughing, trying to picture the scene.

Remmick joined in, his laugh open and booming, full-bodied. He was slightly drunk and an open book: in less than two music videos and two mugs of wine, he'd already told you why he was here, about trying to go on the road with his little band, but his day job got in the way—so he had to choose between the band or work. And there he was, about to play a series of shows that, according to him, would "change his whole career." He was excited, hopeful, his eyes gleaming as streaks of blood-yellow light reflected in his irises, his teeth glowing under the TV's anise-colored light during pauses, his black hair still shiny with dampness. He was too human to seem like a weirdo... Even if some of his stories sounded far-fetched.

Remmick finished shaking his shoulders, his laughter fading as he turned back to the TV, where the opening chords of Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away) began, Chino Moreno's face flashing on screen as the guitar riff exploded. Remmick started nodding his head slightly, humming along to the first lines. You smiled, half-admiring his spontaneity.

"Is this the kind of music you guys play?" you asked, drawing his attention back to you. Remmick grinned proudly, his eyes never losing their sparkle. He downed the rest of his wine in one gulp, setting the mug on the wooden coffee table cluttered with magazines and knickknacks:

"If I weren't so obvious and were more mysterious, it'd be cooler, huh...?"

"What do you mean?" You narrowed your eyes, mimicking his gesture, setting your own mug aside. Remmick glanced at it, commenting offhand:

"You haven't even touched your wine properly—scared of me?" He laughed, half-sarcastic, leaning back into the couch, his gaze heavy-lidded as you turned more toward him, knees pressed together, pointed in his direction. Your eyes traced the lines of his body—not muscular but defined, a subtle bulge between his legs making your throat go dry... Desire.

Remmick was fucking hot, and you were lucky this misfortune had happened with him.

His eyes were penetrating, and in that sepia light between pale yellow and steely blue, they were beautiful. His face was handsome, well-defined and masculine, his hair looked so soft—not to mention that prominent nose, large and slightly upturned, those full, kissable lips, and hands that, if they knew how to play an instrument, your mind concluded, would know how to touch anyone like no one else. And that desire burned through you—you were starved... for touch.

The man was still focused on the frenetic music, the singer's voice gently penetrating your ears. You answered him, your eyes never leaving his:

"It's not fear, it's just... thirst for something else."

"What... something?" he asked, his breath hitching slightly, watching you with curiosity. You pressed your lips together in a smile, stretching as you turned back to the TV, avoiding his gaze:

"A little something I'm not sure I should mention..." You played coy, wanting to provoke him. Remmick slowly adjusted himself on the couch, caught between curiosity and challenge, his lazy grin widening as he stared at you in that half-light from the kitchen lamp mixing with the TV's glow, replying in a teasing tone:

"You're a bold one, you know...? Don't even know me, don't know if I'm a potential serial killer." You laughed, disbelieving. Biting your lip, you shook your head:

"No, Remmick, I'm not afraid of you at all."

"Well, you should be!" he exclaimed, jumping up to stretch, yawning as he checked the digital clock in the kitchen: "Jesus, it's past midnight. Better hit the sack..." He shot you a look full of expectation: "...you too, 'I'm-Not-Afraid-Of-You-Remmick'!" He laughed mockingly, but with an air of suggestion: "Maybe I'll leave my door open... just in case I need something."

"Fine, Mr... 'You-Should-Be-Afraid-Of-Me'—" You made a face, matching his look, your smile widening further: "—maybe I'll come running under your covers, hide from the Boogeyman."

"Or from me..." He shrugged, already heading for the stairs leading to the bedrooms. You snorted a laugh, watching the next music video start. You threw a dangerous glance at the man already climbing the stairs, step by step, his eyes gleaming as his smile seemed to drip for you.

Calling you.

You looked away, keeping your eyes on the TV, pulsing and vibrating with the possibilities of this surprisingly eventful night. He flirted in a weird little way that got to you more than it should have.

Remmick did wait for you, awake in that narrow guest bed, between the closed window's sound of dripping rain and the noise of his own thoughts, hands resting on his chest as he lay in the dark room, thinking of you. Only a sliver of harsh yellow light came from the hallway through the slightly ajar door. Then he heard your footsteps, heavy, coming up the stairs—you'd taken about an hour to finally come up, whatever you'd been doing downstairs in complete silence—or maybe his thoughts were just too loud for him to notice.

Slowly, you stopped at his door, opening it with a soft creak that made him smirk, a small smile appearing on his lips as the warm light entered with you, leaving you both in that half-light where anything could be hidden. But he could still see your face, soft and relaxed, the way you wet your lips and shed your robe, revealing yourself completely naked to him. Remmick shuddered, his mouth watering with desire, already sitting up in bed as you slowly crawled toward him, across the sheets, the mattress springs squeaking, his heavy breathing louder than the rain outside. Then your voice came out, feline:

"You really waited for me, hmm? Really left your invitation open for me to come into your room..." You stopped in front of him, sitting on his knee, your hands beginning to trail up his shins to his knees. Remmick closed his eyes, lethargic, the wine's effect mixing with the arousal growing inside him. You laughed, climbing higher until you were face-to-face with him:

"Remmick, Remmick... What a pleasure to have you as my guest tonight!" you teased, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, his hands touching your skin, sending a shiver through him at the temperature contrast—maybe because you were naked in the cool air while he was in that furnace of a room—parting his lips and closing his eyes, asking for a kiss. But you didn't give him what he wanted. Instead, you licked him, laughing at the face he made, dragging yourself down his torso until you were between his legs:

"Will you let me suck you, Remmy?" The nickname came out casual, intimate, playful. The man didn't hesitate, nodding immediately. With a quick move, you were off the bed, pulling him toward you, kneeling, your sharp nails scratching at the waistband of his sweatpants, stripping him of both pants and white underwear, already wet with pre-cum, taking his soft, warm cock in your hands.

Never breaking eye contact, he eagerly pulled off his shirt in one motion, revealing a cross tattoo on the right side of his waist—a detail that made you even wetter—and you started low, sucking his balls with delight, watching him melt and moan, his hands gripping the mattress tightly as you licked from the base to the red, wet tip, begging for attention, thick and relatively large, stopping right at the head to ask:

"Is this how you like it, Remmy?" Then you took just the glans into your mouth, hearing him gasp heavily, your tongue swirling around it in circles. Remmick almost laughed from pleasure, nodding, one hand already buried in your hair guiding your movements, almost fucking your mouth with thrusts, which you opened and let him enjoy—because his pleasure was yours.

Laughing after he thrust deep, making you gag slightly, pulling back completely soaked and drooling over his cock, he said breathlessly:

"Fuck, woman, like this I'm gonna come too soon... What a magical little mouth!" He caressed your face with one hand as you stood up, pushing him back onto the bed:

"That's because you haven't seen anything yet, Remmy. Haven't seen anything."

He laughed, flirtatious, his hands already claiming your thighs as you, unhurried, positioned yourself over him, never breaking eye contact—Remmick was being very well served, groaning roughly:

"So fucking wet for me, holy shit," his face twisting in pleasure, eyebrows knitting together, lips parting in a broken smile, prominent canines showing. You laughed, grinding aggressively on top of him, grabbing his hands and pinning him down. He groaned beneath you: "So tight, shit, if you keep riding my cock like this I'm gonna come—"

"Then come, Remmy—" Desire was blinding you, your dominant hand going to his throat, watching his Adam's apple rise and fall, his eyes closed, breathing fast, a trail of saliva escaping the corner of his lips.

"Fuck..." Roughly, he thrust up into your pussy. You bent over him, loosening your grip slightly, licking his neck, whispering suggestively:

"Can I suck you here, Remmy?"

"Shit, yes, do whatever you want to me... Just let me come..." he begged, his hands now free from your grip holding your waist, his mouth latching onto the exposed side of your neck, yours doing the same where the arteries pulsed. Remmick felt all his lust spill into harsh thrusts into your pussy, long spurts, while his teeth bit into you.

And yours did the same.

You moaned, strangled by pain and pleasure, blood welling from the bite, flooding your mouth; Remmick let out a guttural cry, eyes closed, feeling that burning frenzy of orgasm, his mouth slack, tasting something... metallic, rancid-sweet, then back to the pungent tang of copper. When he opened his eyes, you were above him, your hands pinning his shoulders to the mattress, your mouth full of blood. Horror crossed his face as the burning intensified, throbbing.

It felt like blades plunging into his skin, deep, lacerating, metallic. Blood, the nauseating smell of it, sticky, and panic filling him as he thrashed beneath you—still inside you—as you laughed, mouth dripping with his blood, staining him further.

"What the fuck!? What kind of monster are you!?" he managed to choke out, trying to break free from your grip, which was stronger than his. When he looked at you again, in that yellow-blue light, the plastic warmth from the hallway mixing with the night's darkness, the rain outside growing heavier, seeming to drown out his screams:

"Well, I did ask you twice if you wanted to come in—" you whispered, putting on an innocent face, bending over his chewed jugular, which gushed bright red blood onto the white sheets and his pale skin, licking up that delicious liquor, spiced with his fear and pleasure: "—and twice you said you did. And you let me suck you, Remmy... Suck you! Oh, poor little thing..." You straightened up again as his eyes lost focus, dull at the edges, lips darkening, his convulsions becoming more random and spaced out.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

Remmick was dying as beautifully as he came, that much was certain. His flavor was rich and exquisite on your palate, sharpened by the fear that had shocked him, diluted in intense orgasm. Simply divine.

Monster.

Could a monster be worthy of love?

"Can a monster be loved?" The question was almost rhetorical.

The unhappy little laugh came from deep in your throat, hoarse and almost dry. In the background, a song played on the convertible's radio, wind whipping across your cold faces, sunglasses on despite the night, sharp smiles, your claw-like nails tapping the car door as Remmick drove, humming along to the lyrics:

"Pleased to meet you... Hope you guess my name, oh, yeah! But what's puzzling you... Is the nature of my game, oh, yeah!" He glanced at you over his sunglasses, his blue eyes glinting in that scarlet light just for you. He wore a leather jacket, corpse-pale hands on the wheel, a sly smile, while you admired the creature you'd created that night full of surprises. Remmick began to speak, his voice calm, his expression contemplative:

"Once, I was seduced by a monster, who punished me severely with the pain of death... But after taking what she craved—my blood and my pleasure—she offered me the greatest gift anyone could accept in this miserable life. Even if the hatred for death poorly announced catches up with us, darling, yes, I believe we can love... In our own way. We're punished by our desires, but whatever... In the end, it was worth giving you what you wanted."

"Blood?" you guessed, throwing a look past him, across that huge bridge full of cars, your suitcases and his guitar case in the backseat. Remmick gave a sly, self-satisfied smile, carefully adjusting his leather jacket sleeves, his hair blowing in the wind, exuding sex and bloody fury on this night that, for the two of you, was only beginning:

"No."

He stated, giving you a look, finally removing his sunglasses, revealing himself to you once more, fangs inviting:

"Eternity with a companion."

In the background, the radio's volume gradually rose...

"Tell me, baby, what's my name? Tell me, honey, can you guess my name?"

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: as you've probably noticed, i got drunk on references to the ultimate classics—interview with the vampire—which is why this fic plays fast and loose with the movie's canon. that said: I LOVED writing this because there's something delicious about imagining a human, fragile remmick who—poor bastard—gets wrecked by his own desires.

#[★] zstartrixxx #remmick #remmick fanfic #remmick x reader #remmick x you #remmick smut #remmick imagine #remmick sinners #jack o'connell #jack o'connell fanfic #[⋆♱⋆] zstar fanfics #[🦇] zstar jack o'connell #Spotify

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profictionprince · 2 years ago

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While I don't think that anyone needs to have like... a Deep Reason™ for liking the content they like, it's especially funny to me when I'm accused of being a predator or whatever in response to that one post because I'm one of those people who like, projects myself in the "victim" role (for lack of a better way to put it) if I'm reading fucked up smut or whatever because I'm one of those people who internalized and sexualized fucked up things that have actually happened to me.

#and I've been threatened to have my teeth bashed out multiple times because of that one post???#I don't know why that's such a go-to threat #but it's pretty hot ngl #which is probably not the intended effect #but i'm a freak in the opposite direction from what they keep accusing me of uwu #and i'm really only interested in people older than me so being accused of being. yknow. is particularly laughable #'ew this person likes shotacon they're obviously a predator' no. IM the shota #and obviously if you don't project yourself in to stuff at all #or project yourself into the opposite roll from me #its literally not a problem as long as its kept #yknow #in the real of fiction or fantasy or SSC roleplay with consenting adults #which you'd think should go without saying but yknow #*gestures to all of the discourse*#also also I dont actually even write fanfic so them accusing me of writing something fucked up myself is even funnier #i'm just talking about stuff i've witnessed happen to other people #also also also this kind of stuff literally applies to horror content too #which i much more my jam in the first place

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svmjaeyvn · 1 year ago

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hidden love, l.hs

synopsis: there were two things that park jongseong reiterated to you growing up.

1: he was the better, funnier, smarter, awesomer sibling and always would be, and 2: you were to never, ever, fall for any guys like his friends, literally and figuratively.

the first was a lie, one you always rolled your eyes at and the second was something 12-year-old you always agreed to without hesitation. but with time, they soon both became a fib from your lips, 14-year-old you coming to the disastrous realization that boys weren't as icky as you once thought and your older brother's best friend had the prettiest smile (when he wasn't being annoying.) as you continued to grow older, those fluttering emotions grew as well, even with him heading off to university it seemed to leave you with a sense of longing, happier than ever when he'd visit.

until you were 16 and he came home with a girl, one that was far prettier than you were able to compete with in your head and nice enough to be a saint. your hopeless, devastating one-sided crush was forced to be swallowed without much pride, though it held no avail until you dramatically decided to never speak to heeseung again. and it worked, ignoring all his calls and texts, avoiding your family home like the plague whenever your brother was home for break if he was visiting, and simply acting entirely clueless in the unfortunate circumstances that you did end up caught by him, chalking it up to dramatic teenage hormones.

once you reached the age of it being your turn to head to college, you signed up for every exchange program possible, leaving you traveling the world for three years that passed with no contact and your once-upon-a-time crush nearly forgotten. that was until you came back home, finally settling to finish uni and all of a sudden you were a kid again, fawning over your brother's best friend who didn't know how to leave you alone. this time though, heeseung didn't see you as that annoying kid who followed jay around, he saw you for you which scared him so much more with how you've grown and nothing was worse than him feeling something for his best friend's off-limits little sister.

featuring: lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon, nishimura riki, kim sunoo, yang jungwon, hanni pham, kim chaweon, yoon keeho, yoon yechan

status: writing. start: 03/30/24. end: tba.

genre: non-idol!au, college/young adult!enha, heeseung x reader, slight age gap (4 years), brothers best friend trope

content & warnings: age gap??? (slightly questionable morality but no romantic feelings or grooming since they end up with no contact for years until adulthood), cursing, drinking, all that jazz, innuendos, sexual humor, suggestive content, possible smut, forbidden relationship, sneaking around, overprotective jay, jay tries to fight heeseung cause duh, crazy exs, stalker mention, slow burn since they're both in denial, heeseung kind of toxic mentality which is forced to be fix, angst but fluffy ending (?)

a/n: based off the cdrama. watched it months ago but shit had me giggling and kicking my feet even if it's cliche. heeseung is so forbbidden older love coded i had to. im trying to make this a oneshot so well see how long it is,,,,,,, the plot will develop from when they were kids to adulthood to provide some background. once the actual romance starts heeseung will be 24 and reader will be 20 (the year will be 2025). all my drafts and writing has been about jake so im branching out (i love my man tho so he'll have his moments here). anyway! lets see how long it takes me to finish up this one

word count: 6k (as of now)

taglist: closed! (86 of you have responded omg)

#enhypen #enha x reader #enha #enhypen masterlist #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #heesung enhypen #lee heesung smut #enhypen x reader #enha fluff #enhypen smut #enha masterlist

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prythianpages · 2 months ago

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Kiss It, Kiss It Better | Azriel x Reader

Azriel x Reader | Even the strongest need a little extra loving sometimes.

warnings: kissing, slight angst in the beginning, reader showering Az with love bc our shadow daddy needs it

a/n: I keep getting distracted from the angst I'm supposed to be writing. But here's a cute little fluffy Az drabble (724 words) inspired by this kissing scene. I've never seen the movie, just saw this clip on twitter lol.

Azriel had a bad day.

You could tell the moment you heard his footsteps, heavy and hesitant. They reached you before his shadows did, which was rare. Usually, they were the first to greet you, brushing against your skin affectionately.

But today, they stayed with him, swirling around him in a frantic manner.

His wings were tucked in tight and there was a blankness in his eyes that made your heart ache. Still, even through the storm cloud he carried with him, he paused to place a small kiss to your cheek in greeting before disappearing into the bathroom without a word.

Maybe the mission hadn’t gone as planned. Maybe Rhysand had delivered news that didn’t settle well with him. Or maybe… he was just tired and feeling down. You didn’t ask. You’d learned not to. Azriel always talks when he’s ready.

So, you gave him some time alone.

While he bathed, you decided to prepare his favorite snacks, not caring if it spoiled dinner. You retrieved a bottle of wine from the back of the cabinet, the one you’d both snuck from Rhysand’s private collection during one of your drunken nights together. Azriel blamed it on Cassian and you didn’t know what was funnier–the fact that Rhysand believed it or that Cassian did too (having been guilty of stealing Rhysand’s wine one too many times to question it himself.)

You were pouring the wine when you heard the bathroom door creak open. His hair was still wet, damp curls clinging to the nape of his neck as he walked back into the kitchen. He wore only a pair of loose grey sweatpants, his chest bare and those muscles of his on full display, droplets of water making the black ink on his skin glisten. You nearly overfilled the glass in your hand.

He slumped into the chair beside where you stood, his shadows slinking around the floor like tired cats. Calmer now, though not entirely at peace.

Your lips curved into a small frown. “Rough day?” you asked softly, though it wasn’t really a question. Not when you already knew the answer.

Azriel didn’t reply at first. He just looked up at you, his hazel eyes warm and weary. His features softened slightly. You felt the bond between you pulse with a soft pull and you moved to him instinctively. He welcomed you with open arms, easing you onto his lap, resting his hands loosely around your waist.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low, his thumb tracing absentminded circles on your waist. “But it’s a little better now.”

Your smiled as you leaned in and whispered, “I can make it even better.”

He let out an exhale, a mix of a sigh and chuckle that puffed against your cheek. You cupped his face, thumbs brushing across his cheekbones and began to kiss him. A kiss to his jaw. One to his cheek. The corner of his mouth. His temple.

You kissed every inch of his face and slowly, he began to melt under your touch.

His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His eyes fluttered shut as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, breathing you in.

You felt his smile through the bond. It was like a tiny spark of warmth, like sunshine breaking through storm clouds. His shadows had risen from the floor, twirling lazily around you both.

You brushed your fingers through his hair, curling a damp lock around your finger. “All good now?”

Azriel tilted his head back. His cheeks were a little pink, the kind of flush he only ever got around you. Contentment and want reflected back at you as his eyes met yours.

“I think," he began, his voice just a touch breathless as his gaze dropped to your lips and then back to your eyes. “You missed a very important spot...want me to show you where?"

You laughed and he laughed with you. Then, he placed a hand at the nape of your neck, guiding you down as he closed the last bit of distance. His lips met yours—the one place you hadn’t kissed in the trail of sunshine you'd pressed across his skin.

The storm that had followed Azriel home had lifted. He’d tell you about it later. For now, he just needed you and the soothing warmth of your body against his.

a/n: It's 2am where I live but I just had to finish this.

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith, @xadenswhore, @kodafics

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel fluff #azriel fanfiction

544 notes · View notes

tea-writes19 · 5 months ago

Text

yes | poly!b.b. s.w. j.t.

pairing: bucky barnes x sam wilson x joaquin torres x f!reader

summary: your followers are confused on who you are dating

warnings: established relationship(s), polyamorous relationship, swearing, fluff, pure crack tbh, comedy, suggestive content

a/n: this is purely for my own enjoyment. please be aware of the warnings and pairing. don’t like don’t read. okay that’s all, enjoy :)

liked by joaquintorres, samwilson, buckybarnes, and others

yourusername: word of advice: don’t go camping with bucky

tagged: @/samwilson @/joaquintorres @/buckybarnes

view comments below

user1: oh to be y/n

user2: fr i wanna be friends with the avengers too

user3: wait i thought she was dating one of them?

user4: no lol they’re just friends

user5: nah she’s def sleeping w/ one of them

user6: sam’s face😭😭

user7: he looks so annoyed😭

joaquintorres: legend has it sam is still on that rock pouting bc we woke him up to watch the sunrise

samwilson: maybe i would’ve been less grumpy if bucky hadn’t made us hike 3 miles to see it…

yourusername: lol ok mr. i haven’t had my morning coffee yet

buckybarnes: i didn’t force you to come with

samwilson: your exact words were (and i quote) get your ass up or else

user8: 😭😭

samwilson: i distinctly remember you groaning the whole time up too

yourusername: maybe, but you don’t have any proof

joaquintorres: uhhhhh….

user9: seeing joaquin’s post first makes this comment section even funnier

user10: wait what did joaquin post??

user9: a pic of y/n looking grumpy watching the sunrise

user10: omg i’m dying😭😭

user11: same!

buckybarnes: i’m not that bad

yourusername: doubt but ok

joaquintorres: liar liar pants on fire

user12: i’m starting to think bucky is that bad

user13: frfr

samwilson: STARTING TO?!?

liked by samwilson, buckybarnes, yourusername, and others

joaquintorres: not pictured: me losing feeling in my legs

tagged: @/yourusername @/buckybarnes @/samwilson

view comments below

yourusername: damn i see how it is

samwilson: haha take that!!

joaquintorres: sorry love but sam bribed me w/ a new flight manoeuvre

yourusername: it’s ok guess i’ll just go kms😔

user14: love?👀

user15: y/n we love you please don’t kys

user16: #justicefory/n

user17: are you dating y/n?

user18: omg they’re just friends

user19: he called her love so…

user20: aw i was kinda hoping it was sam

user21: #teamjoaquin stays winning

samwilson: not pictured: how you lost said feeling in your legs

yourusername: ^^^

joaquintorres: i don’t think insta allows that kind of activity

buckybarnes: didn’t stop sam last time

user22: AYY YO WHAT??!!

user23: OH MY GOD

user24: SAMUEL ARE YOU IMPLYING WHAT I THINK YOU’RE IMPLYING

user25: i’m so confused rn…

user26: wait are sam and joaquin together???

user27: not bucky mentioning storygate tho🫢

peterparker: i love being left out😒

yourusername: pete you know damn well why you were left out

peterparker: doesn’t make my fomo hurt any less

samwilson: you can come with next time instead of buck

buckybarnes: YOU’RE GOING TO REPLACE ME WITH THE KID?!?!

samwilson: yes

liked by yourusername, joaquintorres, peterparker, and more

samwilson: this trip would have been better without bucky

tagged: @/buckybarnes @/joaquintorres @/yourusername

view comments below

yourusername: say it louder for those in the back🗣️

user28: not all of them hating on bucky😭😭

user29: like sir what did you do?!?

buckybarnes: none of you appreciate me and it shows

yourusername: i thought i showed my appreciation perfectly fine last night🤨

joaquintorres: maybe don’t take us hiking for 5 days straight next time…

user30: HELLO??? Y/N!?!

user31: y’all wanna share smth with the class👀

user32: wdym by that y/n huh?

user33: i was going to say their friend group is so wholesome but after y/n's comment idk anymore

user34: lmao fr

user35: same like didn’t joaquin call her love in a comment on his post???

user36: maybe it’s just a nickname and she’s really dating bucky?

user35: what FRIENDS call each other love?!?

peterparker: me watching everyone in the comments freaking out be like: 🫢☕️

user37: tell us what you know!!!

samwilson: gotta keep em on their toes

user38: spill the beans peter…

liked by joaquintorres, samwilson, yourusername, and others

buckybarnes: i for one had a lovely time

tagged: @/yourusername @/joaquintorres @/samwilson

view comments below

samwilson: ofc you did😒

yourusername: i liked it when you let us take a break that one time

joaquintorres: best 2 mins of my life

user39: are y’all ok?😭😭

yourusername: no :)

user40: wait a sec…are those y/n’s legs in the hammock??

user41: +1 point for #teambucky

user42: i’m starting to think it’s a throuple situation or smth bc what😭

user43: you’re so real for that

user44: are you or are you not dating y/n

buckybarnes: …

user45: that wasn’t a no!

liked by joaquintorres, peterparker, buckybarnes, and others

yourusername: morning workouts >>>

tagged: @/buckybarnes @/joaquintorres

view comments below

user50: i think a little more than working out is going on girlie

user51: ^^^

joaquintorres: wdym that’s working out too…

user52: SIR—

buckybarnes: workouts without sam >>>

samwilson: I WAS TIRED YOU FUCK

yourusername: god just kiss already🙄

joaquintorres: who says they aren’t rn

yourusername: wait you right…it’s been awfully quiet

user53: OH

user54: ayy yo what’s bucky and joaquin doing👀

joaquintorres: working out duh

buckybarnes: duh🙄

user55: 😭😭

user56: two guys working out zero feet apart bc they’re gay

buckybarnes: so close…we’re bisexual

user56: my bad

user56: two guys working out zero feet apart bc they’re bisexual

joaquintorres: there we go👍

peterparker: oh would you look at that, i was left out again…

yourusername: PETE YOU HAD SCHOOL

buckybarnes: get off your phone and pay attention in chem

peterparker: the fact you know my schedule is slightly disturbing

user57: only slightly?

peterparker: everything mr. barnes does is scary

user57: valid

yourusername: even me🥺

peterparker: especially you

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: guess where we’re going, wrong answers only!]

story replies

joaquintorres: the moon to visit steve

yourusername: we’re flying to the moon in our favorite rocketship

joaquintorres: zooming through the sky, little einsteins!

user58: rfk jrs swear-in

user59: bahamas?

user60: so are you and sam dating?

peterparker: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

liked by joaquintorres, buckybarnes, samwilson, and others

yourusername: italy i love you and your cats

tagged: @/joaquintorres @/buckybarnes @/samwilson

view comments below

user61: GIRL WHO ARE YOU DATING???

yourusername: yes

user62: yes to who?????

yourusername: yes

user63: oh my god

user64: are they…all dating each other???

user65: quick where’s the girl who predicted this

user42: i’m here🙋‍♀️

user66: you know what, good for them

user67: get that d y/n

user68: damn girl leave some for the rest of us😭😭

yourusername: meet my friend peter @/peterparker

peterparker: wait what

joaquintorres: i don’t think i’ve ever seen bucky and sam so close to murdering each other and us before

peterparker: that’s bc you weren’t at the airport in 2016

yourusername: ^^^

yourusername: if looks could kill we’d be dead rn

buckybarnes: if you guys had taken 5 minutes longer i would’ve cannibalised sam

samwilson: man come on

user69: how yellowjackets of you

yourusername: i promise you he doesn’t understand that reference

joaquintorres: but we do and we agree

user70: damn i wanna go to italy now

user71: i can’t believe we got cap polycule before gta 6

user72: the tumblr girlies are going to go crazy

user73: it’s like destiel becoming canon again over there

user74: it’s already trending😭😭

peterparker: why do i even bother to talk to y’all anymore

yourusername: bc you love us

samwilson: atp you’re our adopted son

buckybarnes: i don’t want stark’s kid tf

buckybarnes added to their story —>

[caption: because y/n hard-launched us as the kids these days would say]

story replies

user75: please which one is teaching you slang😭

joaquintorres: yay i beat out the other two

samwilson: this is pure favoritism

buckybarnes: i didn’t see you complaining last night…

yourusername: joaquin is never going to let this go😔

user76: first ever story and its confirmation of the polycule

user76: god i love it here

liked by buckybarnes, joaquintorres, yourusername, and more

samwilson: venice (feat. y/n making us stop to pet every cat she saw)

tagged: @/yourusername @/joaquintorres @/buckybarnes

view comments below

user77: y/n is so valid for that

user78: my fav polycule

user79: i love how we’re all just like yeah, makes sense

user80: tbf it does make so much sense

user81: we were all wondering who y/n was fucking when really they were all fucking each other

yourusername: bucky said we could keep one!

samwilson: i swear to god if i find a cat in your carry on y/n…

yourusername: uhh i have to go

buckybarnes: my exclusion from the post is payback for my story isn’t it?

samwilson: good to see your brain works sometimes buck!

user82: oof someone get some water for that burn

user83: so does this mean alpine is getting a friend?

samwilson: no

buckybarnes: yes

yourusername: yes

liked by yourusername, buckybarnes, samwilson, and others

joaquintorres: we in the spaghetto!

tagged: @/samwilson @/yourusername @/buckybarnes

view comments below

yourusername: PASTA PASTA

user84: the caption😭😭

user85: i need to know the reason behind slide 2

joaquintorres: sam was yelling at us bc of the cat😔

yourusername: he’s trying to make us get rid of her

buckybarnes: he’s being very rude to gelato

samwilson: WE CAN’T JUST GRAB A CAT OFF THE STREET AND SHIP IT BACK TO THE USA

yourusername: not with that attitude you can’t

user86: live laugh love the spaghetto

user87: omg i love that tiktok😭

peterparker: i call dibs on being gelato’s godfather

joaquintorres: that’s your sister

samwilson: i can’t believe i’m a father of three

buckybarnes: i’m still not acknowledging the kid as mine

liked by samwilson, yourusername, joaquintorres, and more

buckybarnes: they complained about this trip a lot less

tagged: @/joaquintorres @/yourusername @/samwilson

view comments below

joaquintorres: i’m not saying it’s because we had running water but that’s exactly what i’m saying

buckybarnes: i still question why you joined the air force sometimes

samwilson: damn so that’s how you want to play huh

buckybarnes: i don’t know what you’re talking about🧑‍🦯

user88: please tell me that’s gelato🥹

yourusername: sadly no but i wanted to keep this one too

user89: love how y/n is petting a different cat in each post

user90: she’s one with the cats

user91: the cat-whisperer fr

yourusername: damn that’s a good pic of me

peterparker: narcissistic behavior

yourusername: you would be too if you were me

user92: you go queen!!

user93: i’m loving the self confidence!

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: welcome home gelato🫶🏻]

story replies

user94: stop she’s so cute🥹🥹

user95: omg adorable🤍

peterparker: i love my baby sister

#tea ☆#bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #joaquin torres x reader #bucky barnes x sam wilson x joaquin torres x reader #poly!avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #sam wilson x you #joaquin torres x you #marvel smau #mcu smau #sam wilson smau #bucky barnes smau #joaquin torres smau #cap polycule

892 notes · View notes

pbaz7 · 4 months ago

Text

ONE SHOT: SENIOR NIGNT

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content

word count: 9.6k

A/N: This is a prompt I got from someone about the aftermath of senior night! You might be on a little emotional roller coaster and i’m sorry in advance for that lol. Let me know what you think if you can :)

—————————————————————————

After senior day Ted’s was packed, the air humid as laughter and music filled the space. Paige was on drink—who even knew what number at this point—but she was definitely feeling it. She claimed she needed to go big before playoffs started. Her cheeks were flushed, her grin was lazy, and everything around her was just a little bit funnier than it probably should’ve been.

Ice was practically draped over Paige, her head resting against Paige’s shoulder as she whined dramatically. “No bro— I just can’t believe you’re leaving me,” she slurred, clutching at Paige’s arm like the blonde was about to be ripped away forever. “What am I supposed to do without you? Who’s gonna hype me up? Who’s gonna throw me those stupid ass behind-the-back passes at practice and get mad if I don’t catch em?”

Paige snorted, wrapping an arm around Ice. “Alright bro, you over here acting like I’m dying. You’ll be ight.”

Ice groaned, tightening her grip. “Nooo, you don’t get it, Paige. You’re my favorite.”

“Girl boo,” a new voice cut in, and suddenly KK was there, shoving at Ice’s shoulder. “Move over, it’s my turn for P Boogers attention.”

Ice clutched onto Paige tighter. “Oh my god move KK. She’s mine.”

KK scoffed. “I’ve been crying all night about her leaving. Where were you?”

“Bro, literally right here,” Ice yelled. “Crying all over her.”

KK rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I need more time.”

“Oh, that’s funny, because I’ve known her longer,” Ice argued, crossing her arms like she knew she won.

KK gasped. “Oh, you’re pulling the super senior card now? That’s low.”

“You’re low…to the ground.”

Paige just leaned back, watching the two of them bicker over her with an amused smile. “Y’all know I’m still here, right?”

Neither of them acknowledged her, too caught up in their argument. Ice was still latched onto Paige, while KK was trying to push her off, the two of them acting like kids fighting over a toy.

Aubrey walked by, shaking her head. “They do realize there’s two of them and only one of you, right?”

Paige shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. “Not my problem. At least they aren’t yelling.”

For what felt like ten minutes, KK and Ice kept tugging Paige in different directions, each trying to claim her as theirs for the night. Paige was thoroughly entertained in her drunken state so she let them go at it for a while. But eventually she got a little nauseous so she groaned, yanking her arms free. “Alright, alright—I’m not a toy.”

KK huffed mumbling, “Could’ve fooled me.”

Ice crossed her arms. “Yeah, you was sitting there smiling and laughing for like 10 minutes.”

Paige gave them both a pointed look. “Okay, well, maybe y’all need to lock in.”

Immediately, they both pouted at her, big, glossy eyes making them look like sad puppies.

Paige sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes before pulling them both into a hug. “Y’all are a mess,” she mumbled, but there was fondness in her voice for her younger teammates.

They melted into the hug, grabbing onto tightly.

Then, just as Paige started to relax, Ice turned her head slightly toward KK and mumbled, “I’m her and Azzi’s favorite kid.”

KK’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

Paige groaned. “Oh my god.”

Ice smiled hugely, clearly enjoying herself.

KK scowled. “Girl boo you are definitely not her favorite.”

“I definitely am, Azzi told me.”

And just like that, they were arguing again.

Paige rolled her eyes before slipping out of their grasp, shaking her head as she grabbed her drink and wandered off. “Y’all have fun with that.”

As she moved through the bar, the warm, hazy buzz in her chest was in full effect. She took another long sip of her drink, scanning the room for a familiar face—the familiar face. Eyebrows furrowing slightly when she didn’t immediately see her.

She knew Azzi had been there earlier because they had come together and had been attracted to one another’s side for the most part. But she hasn’t seen her in about an hour an now, no matter where she looked, she couldn’t seem to find her.

For anyone else, Paige would blame it on her drunken haze, the dim lighting, or the fact that it was harder to isolate faces in the crowded bar. But Azzi wasn’t just anyone else. Paige could usually spot her instantly, hear her voice or her laugh no matter where she was or how loud a room was . And right now? She wasn’t anywhere.

Feeling too tipsy to be subtle, Paige turned toward the table where most of her teammates were sitting. Without hesitation, she raised her voice over the music.

“Yo, anybody know where my girl went?”

A few heads turned, some of her teammates exchanging shrugs and mumbling, “I don’t know.”

Nika spoke up, casually tipping her drink toward the door. “Last I heard, she said she needed some air.”

Paige nodded at that. Without another word, she tilted her head back, downing the rest of her drink in one go before setting the empty glass down on the nearest table.

She stepped outside into the chilly air, the sounds of Ted’s fading as the door shut behind her. Her eyes scanned the area, but Azzi wasn’t in her usual spot, leaning against the wall like she sometimes did when she needed a moment away from the chaos inside.

Frustration bubbled under the buzz of alcohol because all she wanted was a hug from her girl. Paige pulled out her phone, dialing Azzi’s number. The phone rang a few times before going to voicemail.

“What the hell…” Paige mumbled to herself, frowning at the screen. She swiped over to Find My and pulled up Azzi’s location. Azzi was back on campus, in her room.

Paige’s frown deepened, and she tried calling her again, but once again, there was no answer. Paige grumbled under her breath, feeling a wave of impatience.

She pulled up her messages and scrolled down until she found the last teammate she sent a message to. She saw Aubrey’s name first and sent over a quick Imma dip Azzi already left.

After Paige sent the message to Aubrey, she started a jog back to campus. Her drunkenness made it a lot more fun than walking—her steps a little wobbly, but the night air and the thought of reaching Azzi made it more exciting.

When she finally got to Azzi’s suite, Paige paused in front of the door, groaning slightly when she was able to just walk in.

“Azzi… bro, you need to lock your damn door,” Paige muttered to herself.

She shook her head, slipped off her shoes, and stepped inside quietly, trying not to make too much noise just in case Azzi was asleep. Her eyes searched the living room, but Azzi wasn’t in sight. Paige moved through the dark suite with ease, knowing the layout so well it was almost second nature.

As she got closer to Azzi’s room, the door was slightly opened but when she peeked inside, Azzi wasn’t there either.

A soft sound from the bathroom caught her attention. The sound of the shower running. Paige’s lips curled into a small grin as she drunkenly padded softly toward the bathroom.

She knocked lightly on the door, her voice low. “You in there, mama?”

The response came, but it was muffled, almost too quiet to yeah. “Yeah.”

Paige’s eyebrows immediately furrowed as she heard a sniffle follow Azzi’s response. Her grin faded, replaced by concern. Opening the door gently, she stepped inside and froze for a moment when she saw Azzi, the drunken haze disappearing immediately.

Azzi was sitting on the shower floor with her knees pulled to her chest, her head resting in between them. The water was running, but Paige could tell it was colder than it should’ve been when she didn’t see any fog on the mirror. Azzi’s face wasn’t visible, but Paige could see the tension in her posture and the way her shoulders trembled, even under the cascading water.

Not caring about the expensive jeans or anything else she was wearing, Paige stepped into the shower, ignoring the immediate chill of the water against her back. She positioned herself between Azzi and the cold stream, blocking it from hitting her, and knelt down in front of her.

She leaned in close, her voice gentle but filled with concern. “What’s going on, baby?” She waited for a second, hoping for any response, but when Azzi didn’t look up, Paige’s hand instinctively moved to gently run through Azzi’s wet hair, trying to soothe her.

"Talk to me, baby," Paige whispered, her voice pleading now. "What do you need?" Paige hated feeling this helpless. It was one of the worst feelings in the world—when something was wrong with Azzi, and she couldn’t immediately fix it, couldn’t make it better. It always gnawed at her.

But Azzi didn’t respond. Instead, Paige felt Azzi's shoulders shake slightly, and then the soft, heartbreaking sound of Azzi crying. Paige's heart broke all over again, her own breath hitching in her chest.

"No no, I'm sorry beautiful," Paige muttered, even though she wasn’t sure what exactly she was apologizing for—she just knew she made her cry more. She hated seeing Azzi like this, feeling like she’d failed her somehow.

Standing up, Paige reached for the towel that sat next to the shower. She turned to shut off the water, the room falling silent except for the sound of Azzi’s sniffles.

When Paige turned back around she crouched down in front of Azzi again, the towel still in her arms. She leaned in, resting her forehead against the top of Azzi’s head for a brief moment, as if she was trying to absorb some of the pain Azzi was feeling.

“Lemme get you up, beautiful,” Paige whispered.

Azzi finally looked up, and Paige’s heart sank when she saw her—her puffy eyes, mascara smeared a little on her cheeks, looking exhausted and vulnerable. Paige’s chest tightened as she fought the urge to pull her close, to do anything she could to make it better.

Gently, Paige leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Azzi’s forehead, the gesture an attempt to remind Azzi that she wasn’t alone.

“Can you stand up for me baby?” Paige asked.

Azzi nodded, her movements slow. Paige gently helped her to her feet, her hands steady as she wrapped the towel around Azzi’s body, providing her the warmth she needed.

Once Azzi was standing, Paige stepped out of the shower first, her clothes and hair wet but ignored as she focused solely on helping Azzi. She reached out a hand, guiding Azzi carefully as she stepped out of the shower, making sure she was steady on her feet.

“Alright, lemme get you somewhere warm,” Paige whispered, offering Azzi a soft smile as she pulled her into her side, ignoring the discomfort of her wet clothes.

Once they got to Azzi’s room, Paige gently led her to the bed, guiding her with a steady hand as Azzi’s bare feet shuffled across the floor. She sat Azzi down, making sure she was comfortable before turning to the heater. Paige adjusted the settings and pulled it closer to Azzi’s bed, the warm air filling the room almost instantly.

“Stay right there,” Paige whispered as she turned to walk back to the bathroom.

A few moments later, Paige returned with a warm face towel in her hands. She walked over to the bed and knelt in front of Azzi, carefully wiping her face. The towel was gentle against Azzi’s skin as Paige worked to remove the mascara that had smeared from her tears. She focused on her movements, making sure to be gentle, to care for Azzi the way she always wanted to—quietly, without words, just through actions.

When she was done, Paige leaned back slightly, looking at Azzi with a soft smile. “Perfect,” she whispered, before leaning down to press a warm, wet kiss to Azzi’s forehead.

Azzi’s lips twitched up just a little, her eyes still tired, but there was a flicker of something in them—a glimpse of appreciation. Her voice was soft, muffled by her exhaustion as she mumbled, “You’re getting water everywhere big head.”

Paige looked down at her wet clothes and grinned sheepishly. “Oops,” she said, her voice light, trying to ease the mood.

Azzi couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at Paige’s grin, the sound of it just a little more like herself again. Paige’s heart warmed at the sound of her soft laugh, even if it was just a small one—it meant they were making progress.

After Paige took the towel back to the bathroom, she returned to the room, ready to take care of her in any way she could. She started to reach for the shea butter, her hands hovering over the container, when Azzi’s soft voice interrupted her.

“You need to take off your wet clothes first,” Azzi whispered, her eyes barely lifting to meet Paige’s.

Paige huffed, already irritated at the thought of undressing herself when she just wanted to focus on Azzi.

Still, Paige listened. She took a deep breath and stepped back, pulling her wet shirt over her head in one fluid motion. She was about to toss it in the corner but caught Azzi’s gaze. Azzi gave her a pointed look, as if silently saying really? Paige sighed, rolling her eyes, and laid the shirt across the chair instead, allowing it to dry properly.

Next, she pulled off her wet jeans, mirroring the same motion. She sighed again, throwing them carefully on the chair, before removing her socks, sports bra and boxers.

Now fully in just her damp skin, Paige reached into Azzi’s drawer and pulled out a shirt and a pair of her boxers, slipping them on without a second thought.

Once dressed, she turned back toward Azzi.

Paige moved towards her, cupping her face gently with both hands, her warm fingers soft against her skin. “You gonna let me take care of my wife now?” she whispered, a smile on her lips.

Azzi bit her lip slightly, her eyes flicking to Paige’s before she nodded softly.

Paige’s smile grew as she reached for the shea butter. She knelt in front of Azzi, her hands warm as she started with her feet. Gently, she massaged the cream into Azzi’s skin, taking extra time with every touch. The warmth of her hands and the smell of the shea butter filled Azzi’s senses, mixing with the quiet rhythm of the suite.

She kissed Azzi’s feet softly once she was done, a little smile tugging at her lips when Azzi’s eyes fluttered shut, the small gesture making Azzi’s heart flutter too. Paige continued up to her legs, making sure to soothe every inch of skin as she worked. She kissed Azzi’s skin here and there, lingering just long enough to make Azzi’s smile grow.

When Paige moved to the rest of Azzi’s body, she took her time, kneading the shea butter into Azzi’s shoulders, arms, and stomach, occasionally pausing to kiss her skin. Each kiss was a soft, intimate reminder of the care she wanted to give, of the love that always felt so quiet but so deep between them.

Paige finished by gently massaging Azzi’s neck for a while, working out some of the tension in her shoulders. Each stroke of her hands seemed to ease the tightness, and Azzi’s eyes fluttered shut, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Paige’s touch was soothing, her hands firm yet gentle as she worked the knots out of Azzi’s muscles, knowing how much it meant for her to relax after games.

Once she was satisfied with Azzi’s shoulders and neck, Paige stood up and walked to Azzi’s dresser. She pulled out a set of fresh underwear, pajama shorts, and a loose t-shirt—her usual care package when Azzi needed comfort before bed. She walked back to the bed and gently helped Azzi slip them on.

Azzi finally thought Paige would crawl into bed with her, but instead, Paige walked toward the dresser again, reaching for Azzi's paddle brush making her groan.

Paige laughed at her, but her voice was still gentle, “Your hair’s gonna get tangled if I don’t comb it out.”

Azzi muttered a quiet, “Fine,” before she shifted, making room for Paige on the bed. Paige climbed in next to her, settling so that Azzi could lay slightly on top of her. It was a comfortable position, with Azzi resting her head against Paige’s chest, her body half on top of her, allowing Paige to carefully work the brush through her hair.

Paige worked the brush through Azzi’s damp strands, taking her time to detangle the hair gently. Despite the earlier protest she knew Azzi liked it when she took her time with this–it was something Paige had done since they were young. Every so often she would stop combing and press a soft kiss to the top of her head before going back to working the brush through Azzi’s curls.

The room was filled with the soft sound of their steady breathing and the gentle swish of the brush through Azzi’s hair. It was a peaceful moment—one that made Paige feel more grounded, more connected to the woman she loved. She continued brushing, all the while savoring the stillness, the intimacy of caring for Azzi in this simple, quiet way knowing things might be different in just a month.

Once she finished, she set the brush down and softly ran her fingers through Azzi’s hair, letting the curly strands fall loosely around her shoulders. She kissed Azzi’s forehead, whispering, “All done, beautiful.”

Azzi smiled up at her, her eyes still a little red from earlier, but calmer now, soothed by Paige's presence and her care. She whispered, "Thank you, baby."

Paige smiled warmly, shifting to sink deeper into the bed, pulling Azzi closer to her chest, letting her head rest against her.

Paige’s voice softened as she spoke, “Now, how about you tell me what’s going on?”

Azzi sighed, her voice small and tired, reflecting how much thought she had been putting into whatever was on her mind. “I don’t know what to do.”

Off those words alone, Paige knew exactly what she was talking about. This had been weighing on Azzi for months—the decision looming over her since the start of the season. Paige exhaled softly, running her hand up and down Azzi’s back.

“You wanna talk about it?” Paige asked gently.

Azzi hesitated before nodding against Paige’s chest. “Everyone just wants something different from me.”

Paige frowned slightly. “It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks but you, Az. It’s your decision and your decision only baby I keep telling you that.”

Azzi let out a frustrated breath. “But Carol—”

Paige cut her off before she could finish. “It doesn’t matter what Caroline wants. Or your parents. Or your family. Or Geno. Or the fans.” Paige’s hand moved up to cup Azzi’s cheek, guiding her to look up at her. “It affects them, sure. But it’s about what you think you need, baby. Not them.”

Azzi sighed, her fingers absentmindedly tracing little patterns against Paige’s arm. “What do you think I should do?”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head as she saw right through Azzi’s attempt to trick her into answering. “Nice try.”

Azzi groaned, burying her face against Paige’s collarbone. “Why won’t you just tell me?”

Paige smirked, her fingers still running soothingly through Azzi’s hair. “Because,” she said simply, “I know if I did, it’d play too big of a role in your decision.” She tilted her head, looking down at Azzi with a soft gaze. “Everybody else has been in your ear about this, telling you what they think is best. But I don’t wanna do that. I just wanna support you, whatever you decide.”

Azzi exhaled, her voice barely above a whisper. “I wish you were selfish sometimes and just told me what you want me to do.”

Paige laughed, shaking her head. “No, you don’t.”

Azzi pouted, shifting slightly against Paige. “Maybe I do.”

Paige grinned, tightening her arms around Azzi and pressing a kiss to her head. “Nah, because if I was selfish, I’d never let you leave me.” She smirked, nuzzling into Azzi’s neck before adding playfully, “You’d be a stay-at-home mom with our kids.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, though the corners of her lips twitched. “I’m serious, Paige.”

“I know,” Paige said, pulling back to meet Azzi’s gaze. “But I’m still not saying anything.”

Azzi let out a small, frustrated sigh before shifting, sitting up so she was now straddling Paige’s lap. Paige raised her eyebrows at the sudden movement, but all she did was rest her hands on Azzi’s waist as Azzi reached down, taking Paige’s hands in her own and beginning to play with her fingers.

“I care about what you think,” Azzi admitted, her voice genuine. “After me, my decision will affect you the most out of anyone.”

“I know, beautiful.”

Azzi held her gaze, and the way Paige was looking at her made her chest tighten. Paige always looked at her with so much love, so much trust, appreciation—so much everything. It used to be overwhelming but now all it did was make Azzi’s stomach flutter. She inhaled, squeezing Paige’s hands. “If I stay, our schedules will line up. I’ll be able to spend April, May, June and part of July with you. I’ll be able to come to a lot of your games, be there when you need me. You’ll be able to come to my games once your season ends.”

Paige remained silent, listening.

“But if I declare…” Azzi hesitated, her voice quieter now. “We’ll be in different cities for like half a year.” She bit her lip, her fingers tightening slightly around Paige’s. “But our contracts will be up at the same time and it’ll probably be easier for us to figure out where we want to settle. I feel ready now, I’m confident and I know I can do well in the league. But at the same time I feel like I haven’t put on the UConn jersey enough.”

Paige exhaled softly, searching Azzi’s eyes. “This is all true.”

“So, what do you think?”

Paige smiled and squeezed her hands gently. “I think no matter what you decide, we’re going to be perfect. We’re us. So I think you should focus on how you feel rather than what it means for us.”

Azzi groaned dramatically before throwing herself against Paige’s chest, making Paige chuckle as she wrapped her arms around her. She pressed a lingering kiss to the top of Azzi’s head, her fingers tracing small circles on her back.

“You’re so annoying,” Azzi mumbled into her shirt.

Paige grinned. “And you’re my perfect, amazing, insanely talented girlfriend who’s going to do incredible things no matter what she picks.”

Azzi huffed, but Paige felt the way her body relaxed just a little more against her.

Paige knew that wasn’t going to fully ease Azzi’s mind, so she softly offered, “We can start the pros and cons list.”

Azzi sighed, her fingers still lightly tracing patterns on Paige’s arm. “Can we do it tomorrow?”

“Of course, baby.”

Azzi smiled at this and after a beat she reached over, grabbing both of their phones and putting them on Do Not Disturb before setting them aside and settling back against Paige’s chest.

For a moment, they just lay there, wrapped up in each other, the room filled with nothing but the quiet sound of their breathing. Then, just as Paige was beginning to think Azzi might be drifting off, she felt the softest press of lips against her neck.

A smile tugged at Paige’s lips. She didn’t say anything, just tilted her head to the side slightly, giving Azzi more access.

Another kiss. This one lingering longer.

Paige’s grip on Azzi’s waist tightened slightly. “Thought you wanted to sleep, mama.”

Azzi hummed. “Changed my mind.”

Paige chuckled, her fingers tracing patterns along Azzi’s back. “That why you put our phones on DND?”

Azzi didn’t answer, just pressed another slow open mouth kiss to Paige’s neck.

Paige exhaled, amusement laced in her tone. “You always this sneaky?”

Azzi pulled back just enough to meet Paige’s gaze, her lips curving into a small smile. “Only when I really want something.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, pretending to think. “Oh yeah? And what is it you want, baby?”

Azzi’s fingers lightly traced the collar of Paige’s shirt. “You.”

Paige licked her lips, her gaze never leaving Azzi’s as she whispered, “Do whatever you want then, baby.”

Azzi paused for a moment, her eyes twinkling with surprise—not from uncertainty, but from the way Paige had given her full control so easily. Azzi was used to being the one who had to talk Paige into submission, coax it out of her.

“Really?”

Paige grinned, her fingers slipping through Azzi’s hair, “Mhmm.”

Not wanting Paige to change her mind, Azzi lowered herself back down to Paige’s neck, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, her lips lingering in just the right spots to make Paige’s breath hitch. The kisses were slow as if she was savoring every moment, every reaction she was drawing from Paige even though she just started.

Paige swallowed a little harshly, her chest rising and falling in tandem with each kiss that Azzi pressed against her neck. She couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh when Azzi started to suck and nip softly at certain spots.

Azzi paused for a moment, her fingers still lightly trailing down Paige's arm, before she softly spoke, "I'm proud of you, you know?"

Paige opened her eyes, still slightly breathless and glanced at Azzi, her brows furrowing. "For what? I didn’t do anything."

Azzi smiled softly. "You got put on the wall today," she said, her voice filled with pride.

Paige shrugged, a casual nonchalance in her movements “I guess.”.

Azzi's smile only widened, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she tugged at Paige’s shirt, silently asking for it to come off. Paige sat up, allowing Azzi to help her remove the shirt, the movement natural between them, as if they'd done this a thousand times.

Once the shirt was off, Azzi leaned in, her lips lightly grazing Paige's bare skin as she began listing off her accomplishments, her voice smooth as it flowed from one achievement to the next.

"National Player of the Year as a freshman… Naismith award…" Her kisses lingered between words, pressing soft kisses against Paige’s neck.

Paige, though clearly enjoying the attention, was already starting to get a little impatient. Her hand slid into Azzi’s hair, gently tugging her lower as she whispered, “Yeah, yeah, I’m great, I know. Can we speed this up a bit?”

Azzi smirked, not rushing. “You don’t just get to be amazing without a little recognition,” she whispered, continuing her trail of kisses down Paige’s neck, lingering with every word. “Big East Player of the year...twice…First Team all American... lost track of all the Most Outstanding Players…”

Paige shifted underneath her, trying to push Azzi lower. "I’m starting to feel like I need to hear all of this in one breath baby."

Azzi chuckled softly, completely ignoring Paige’s attempts to rush her. She shifted slightly, brushing her lips across Paige’s collarbone as she finished the list. “I’m just making sure you get the credit you deserve, P,” she teased, her lips now just above Paige’s chest.

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin tugging at her lips. “I’m pretty sure I’ve heard enough praise to last a lifetime, Az,” she murmured, now fully impatient. “Can we just… skip to the part where you stop talking about how amazing I am and focus on making me feel amazing maybe?”

Azzi laughed softly, pulling back to look at Paige’s face. “You really are amazing,” she whispered. “I’m just here to remind you.”

Paige sighed, but her arms pulled Azzi closer, her breath a little uneven, even as she tried to play it cool. “I appreciate it… but really, I wouldn’t complain if you hurried it up a little.”

Azzi’s lips found a spot just below Paige’s collarbone, her teeth grazing the skin before she bit down a little harder than she had previously. The sharpness of it made Paige flinch, a quick whimper escaping her as she clenched her jaw, eyes fluttering shut.

Azzi pulled back just enough to whisper in her ear, “Stop rushing me.”

Paige’s chest heaved slightly as she exhaled, trying to calm herself. Her fingers found Azzi’s shoulders, gripping them gently as she looked up at her with an almost apologetic gaze. “I’m sorry, pretty,” she murmured, her voice a little breathier than before. “I can’t help it... I just want you. Haven’t had you in like a week.”

Azzi smiled at this as she began to trail lower, her kisses growing a little sloppier. She paused at Paige’s chest before pressing her lips against the soft flesh. She sucked lightly, just enough to leave a few marks, ensuring that they would be hidden from view—just for Paige.

Paige’s breath caught in her throat at the sensation, her fingers curling into Azzi’s hair, drawing her closer. “You already feel so good,” she breathed, her voice filled with desire as she stroked Azzi’s hair, urging her to keep going.

Azzi hummed softly, the sound vibrating in a way that only made Paige crave more. She kissed her way across Paige’s chest, making sure she gave each sensitive nub attention as she swirled her tongue.

Paige’s breath grew more uneven as Azzi’s lips worked their way further down her torso. “Feels so good, Az,” Paige breathed out. “So good at this baby.”

Azzi paused just for a second, her lips still hovering over Paige’s stomach as she glanced up with a playful smile. “Yeah?” she asked softly. She leaned back down, tracing her tongue over Paige’s stomach before adding, “Tell me, baby, how does it feel?”

Paige inhaled slowly, her body responding to Azzi’s touch. “Perfect. Every time,” she whispered, her hands sliding to Azzi’s shoulders, her fingers tracing the muscles there.

When Azzi’s lips finally reached Paige’s waist, she took her sweet time, pausing with every kiss, savoring the way Paige’s body reacted—the way it twitched under her. She could feel the tension building in Paige, could hear the shallow breaths escaping her, and it made her smile inwardly. She loved how much patience she had to remind Paige to have each time.

Paige shifted slightly, her fingers digging into Azzi’s shoulders slightly, trying to keep her cool. She let out a frustrated breath. “Baby, please,” she whispered, her voice already a little horse with desire. “You’re killing me here.”

Azzi’s lips lingered on Paige’s waist, and she pulled back to look up at her, a glint in her eyes. “What did I tell you about rushing me?”

Paige let out a breathless laugh. “Not rush. But you know what you’re doing to me,” she said, her voice shaky. She swallowed, her hands instinctively moving to Azzi’s hair, tugging her closer. “Just... don’t make me wait no more.”

Azzi hummed softly, her lips brushing against Paige’s waist again, this time suck softly right above her waistband which seemed to drive Paige crazy. “You think I don’t know?” Azzi teased, her fingers pressing into Paige’s sides as if to remind her just how in control she was. “You get so impatient right here, don’t you? Sensitive?”

Paige let out a small, shaky laugh, her body stiffening as she tried to keep herself in check. “I can’t help it. You know what you do to me,” she admitted. “I just... want you, Azzi.”

Azzi smiled, leaning in and brushing her lips along Paige’s skin again before teasingly biting the spot just above her waist. Paige inhaled sharply, her hands tightening in Azzi’s hair, a soft gasp escaping her lips. “You’re not making it any easier,” Paige murmured, half laughing, half groaning.

“You really want me to hurry up, baby?”

Paige let out a frustrated, yet satisfied sigh, biting her lip. “Yes, please,” she whispered, her fingers now lightly massaging Azzi’s scalp as she attempted to push her head closer, needing more, aching for more. “You know I can’t stand being teased like this.”

Azzi’s smile widened against her skin. “I think you can handle it,” she teased. “Just a little more patience, I’m almost there,”

Paige closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her composure, but the way Azzi was taking her time, deliberately testing her patience, made everything seem much more intense. “I don’t think I can gorgeous,” she breathed, almost pleading. “Please baby...”

“You’re beautiful when you beg,” Azzi murmured with a smile. She reaches for the waistband of Paige’s boxers and Paige immediately lifts her hips to make it easier for her girlfriend to discard them.

Paige let out a frustrated whine, her fingers gripping the sheets when Azzi blew slightly on her center. “Azzi,” she breathed. “You’re—” She cut herself off with a shaky exhale as Azzi’s lips brushed against her folds, barely there, but enough to make her squirm.

Azzi smirked, feeling Paige’s body tense beneath her. “What was that?” she teased, pressing another soft kiss to the same spot.

Paige groaned, dropping her head back against the pillows. “You know what,” she mumbled, her hands flexing. “You’re teasing me on purpose.”

Azzi hummed in consideration, her fingers pressing lightly into Paige’s thighs, just enough to make her want more. “Maybe,” she admitted. She placed another featherlight kiss, her breath warm. “But can you blame me? You’re just so pretty like this.”

Paige inhaled sharply, her back arching slightly off the bed. “Azzi,” she warned, but it came out more like a plea.

Azzi chuckled, her hands moving up to grip Paige’s hips firmly as she felt her shifting beneath her. “You’re so needy,” she murmured.

Just the feeling of Azzi’s breath against her core had Paige’s body reacting, her legs twitching slightly, her stomach tensing under the sensation. She tried to push herself toward Azzi’s mouth, desperate for more, but Azzi’s grip tightened, steadying her.

“Stay still, baby,” Azzi whispered.

Paige exhaled shakily, biting her lip. Azzi let the moment linger, watching her with that smile before finally relenting.

She swipes her tongue across Paige’s center feeling her legs twitch slightly at the feeling making her chuckle. Deciding to fully put Paige out of her misery she starts working her tongue across her girlfriend’s core. She starts slowly using her lips and tongue perfectly knowing exactly how Paige likes it.

She looks up to find Paige looking down at her in complete awe, her blue eyes glazed over, her jaw slightly parted. This causes Azzi to smirk as she sucks Paige’s clit into her mouth gently, deliberately holding eye contact.

Paige immediately throws her head back against the pillow mumbling out, “Oh my fucking God.”

Azzi's eyes flickered up again, a small smile tugging at her lips as she mumbled out, “You like it?"

Paige nodded, her chest rising and falling faster as Azzi builds her up. "I fucking love it," she whispers as she pushes closer to Azzi’s mouth.

Azzi let out a satisfied hum—she always loved how vocal Paige was during sex. How worked up she could get her. “I love hearing you baby.” When she doesn’t get anything in response besides a few breathy whimpers Azzi starts slowly but deliberately tracing the letters of her name as she eats Paige.

Paige couldn't hold back the quiet gasp that escaped her throat when she realized what Azzi was doing. She opened her eyes looking down at Azzi. Her breath was shaky as she whispered, "Why you doing that?"

Azzi looked up her lips wet as she smirked. "It's mine, right?"

Paige's body responded immediately, a groan escaping her lips as her head fell back against the pillows again. She loved when Azzi talked like that. When Azzi made it clear that she knew Paige belonged to her and only her.

Azzi sucked a little harshly on Paige's clit, the slight sting mixing with the pleasure, as Paige moaned softly.

"You didn't answer me."

Paige's heart raced, as she tried to control the rise and fall of her chest. She reached down, her hands pushing Azzi closer to her. "Yes yes, it's yours," she whispered urgently, pressing herself into Azzi. "I'm sorry... just don't stop..feels too good."

Azzi does exactly as she’s told, working her tongue expertly across the entirety of Paige’s center. Occasionally dipping her tongue into Paige’s entrance and lapping at it before repeating the process.

Paige melts further into the mattress, her eyes naturally rolling back as she drops her jaw. “Oh shit mama…there you go baby just like that.”

It had been a while, in their terms, so Azzi wasn’t surprised when she felt Paige’s legs start to shake under her. She murmured a soft compliment against her skin, her voice hushed as she worked her girlfriend up. "You're so beautiful... can't get enough of you P. You always taste so good for me.”

Paige choked on her breath as she let out a soft whine, nodding her head against the pillows, not even bothering with words.

Azzi pulled back slightly, her chin dripping with Paige’s wetness. "You good?" she whispered.

Paige once again didn't bother with a response, the feeling in her stomach too intense to form words. Instead she just pushed Azzi's head back down, letting out a whimper when Azzi attached her mouth to her again.

Paige let out breathy moans, her head pressing deeper into the pillows as her hands stayed firmly on Azzi’s head. She tried to push herself further into Azzi’s mouth, desperate to feel her girlfriend more than she already was, but Azzi held her hips down, resisting with an amused hum as she lapped at Paige like she had all the time in the world.

“Mmm, Azzi, come on,” Paige murmured, her words already slurring slightly. “Need you inside, baby…don’t be mean.”

“I’m not being mean,” she murmured against her skin.

Paige groaned when she felt Azzi’s tongue dip inside her again, her hands tightening their grip. Her words tumbling out in a dazed rush, “You're—fuck, so—just please.”

Azzi grinned, feeling Paige’s muscles tense beneath her mouth. “Baby, what are you even saying?” She whispered.

Paige whined in response, frustrated with how composed Azzi sounded while she was barely holding it together. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her fingers flexing in desperation. “I can’t think, I just—” She exhaled sharply, her words dissolving into a quiet moan as Azzi pressed her tongue deeper

Azzi smirked, loving how easily Paige came undone for her. She slowly ran her hands up and down Paige’s thighs, keeping her firmly in place as she murmured, “I love when you get like this.”

Paige whimpered, her entire body feeling like it’s on fire.

Azzi’s smile deepened as she tightened her grip on Paige’s hips, steadying her. “Look at me, P,” she mumbled, her voice commanding.

Paige let out a shaky breath, forcing her eyes open to meet Azzi’s gaze. The moment their eyes locked, Azzi swore she felt her chest tighten. Paige’s hair was a mess, her blue eyes dark and hooded, her cheeks flushed that beautiful shade of pink that drove Azzi absolutely insane.

Azzi exhaled, her fingers flexing against Paige’s skin. “You look so fucked out baby,” she murmured, almost in awe.

Paige, still lost in the haze of sensation, barely processed the words before whispering back, “I am baby—fuck…I am.”

Azzi let out a soft, breathless laugh before dipping her head down again. Paige squeezed her eyes shut, throwing an arm over her face. A second later, she mumbled something completely incoherent, her words slurring together into a mess/

Azzi grinned, leaning in closer as she moved her tongue quicker, the sound filling the room as she finally worked to give Paige the release she wanted.

“Oh shit…Fuck mama just like that…keep going just like that Azzi baby.” Paige's grip on Azzi’s head tightened as she pushed herself into Azzi’s face.

The heat in Paige’s stomach became too much and before she knew it her thighs were squeezing around Azzi’s head as she whimpered out, “Imma cum... Fuck imma cum baby don’t stop."

Within a few seconds Azzi could taste Paige filling her mouth as she let out a series of quiet moans grinding against Azzi’s face to ride out her orgasm.

Azzi hums as she cleans Paige up whispering, “You always feel so good in my mouth baby.”

These words only cause Paige to let out another whimper as she pulls Azzi up toward her by her shoulders crashing their lips together in a deep kiss. Azzi hummed into it, melting against Paige as she rested against her legs.

Paige’s hands moved instinctively, tracing along Azzi’s waist as she seamlessly flipped their positions. Just as she started to lower herself, intent on returning the favor, Azzi’s hands gripped her shoulders.

“Wait,” Azzi whispered.

Paige froze, her lips hovering just above Azzi’s skin as she looked up, eyes dark. “Wassup?”

Azzi bit her lip, glancing toward the closet before meeting Paige’s gaze again. “Can you go get it?”

Paige furrowed her brows, still slightly dazed, as she hovered over Azzi. “Get what?” she whispered, her voice still a little breathy.

Azzi nodded toward the closet again. Paige followed her gaze, and realization hit her. A smirk grew on her face as she asked, "Which one?"

"The big one."

Paige raised an eyebrow. "You sure?" she asked, her voice a little lower now. "It's been a while since we’ve used one.”

Instead of answering right away, Azzi reached for Paige’s hand, guiding it into her shorts. She ran Paige’s fingers through her folds, silently showing her girlfriend how worked up she already was.

Paige swallowed at the feeling, her jaw tightening. She let out a slow breath through her nose, nodding. “Okay,” she murmured, her voice hoarse. “Yeah.”

She pulled away, stepping off the bed and made her way toward the closet. Azzi watched her go, her pulse already racing in anticipation.

Paige strode back over to the bed, a smile tugging at her lips as she held Azzi’s gaze. She ran a hand down Azzi’s side.

"You gonna put it on for me?" Paige murmured, tilting her head.

Azzi bit her lip, her eyes flickering between Paige and the strap in her hands. After a beat, she nodded, reaching up to take it from her. She shifted closer, her fingers brushing over Paige’s skin as she helped adjust everything, her movements familiar.

Just before she pulled it up to tighten it, Azzi paused racing over into the nightstand, feeling around for something. When she finally grabbed what she was looking for, Paige’s eyes flickered down, and she let out a low chuckle, shaking her head.

“You’re crazy,” Paige whispered.

Azzi just grinned up at her, biting her lip as she looked Paige over. “You love it.”

Paige exhaled through her nose as Azzi ran her fingers down her stomach before sliding the vibrator in and pulling everything into place.

Paige got back on the bed hovering over Azzi as she placed gentle, lingering kisses along Azzi’s collarbone. Azzi’s hands found their way into Paige’s hair, her fingers gently massaging her scalp, guiding Paige closer. The heat between them growing again almost immediately.

Paige pulled back slightly, her lips brushing over Azzi’s neck as she muttered, “Too many clothes.”

Azzi smiled. “Help me then.”

With a grin, Paige sat up, her hands already working at the hem of Azzi’s shirt. She pushed it up over Azzi’s stomach exposing her piercing, before Azzi lifted slightly to help. Paige tossed the shirt aside, her mouth immediately falling to the soft skin of Azzi’s breast.

Azzi let out a quiet sigh as Paige rested her head there for a moment, her fingers trailing gently over Azzi’s sides. “So perfect,” Paige murmured.

Azzi chuckled softly, her hand caressing Paige’s back. “You always say that.”

Paige smiled against Azzi’s chest, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. “Because it’s true baby.”

Paige let her hands drift over Azzi’s sides as she pressed another kiss to Azzi’s collarbone, then lower, her lips barely grazing over her skin as she made her way down.

Azzi shivered beneath her, fingers threading through Paige’s hair before slipping down to her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Look who's taking their time now, huh?” she murmured, her voice already breathy.

Paige smirked, shifting slightly so their hands could find each other, fingers interlacing. “Mhm,” she hummed, bringing Azzi’s knuckles to her lips, pressing a soft kiss there before returning to her slow descent. “Thought you liked it when I take my time.”

Azzi exhaled her grip tightening around Paige’s hand. “I do,” she admitted, her other hand trailing up the back of Paige’s neck, her nails scratching lightly.

Paige glanced up. “Then relax, pretty girl,” she whispered, squeezing Azzi’s hand before letting their fingers untangle so she could map out more of Azzi’s skin. “Let me enjoy you.”

Azzi swallowed, her breathing uneven as she let Paige explore her body for what was probably the thousandth time. Eventually Paige dipped her head lower, her mouth lingering over the spot just above Azzi’s hip.

Azzi’s body betrayed her, arching slightly, a quiet curse slipping off her tongue as she tangled her fingers with Paige’s again. “Paige,” she breathed, a plea wrapped in warning.

Paige grinned, biting down gently at Azzi’s hip before soothing it with a kiss. “You’re already squirming,” she teased.

Azzi bit her lip, eyes fluttering shut as she exhaled. “Because it’s you baby.”

“I got you,” she murmured.

Paige's hands moved down to Azzi’s shorts pulling them down and her underwear down, her eyes following the string of wetness that follows as she tugs them down.

Paige licked her lips as she murmured, “Damn, baby… it’s like that?”

Azzi sighed, her grip on Paige’s shoulders tightening as she nodded. “Yeah,” she whispered, eyes locked on Paige’s. “It’s like that.”

Paige’s fingers traced slow patterns along Azzi’s thighs, her touch barely there. “So pretty,” she mumbled, gaze flickering downward before she paused. Her voice dropped even lower, almost a request, almost a demand. “Open up baby. Lemme see.”

Azzi swallowed, her pulse quickening at the weight behind Paige’s words. Slowly, she nods, spreading her legs further for Paige to see.

Paige shakes her head in awe before sinking down to be eye level with Azzi’s core. She mumbles out, “Swear I could die in this shit mama,” before immediately swiping her tongue across Azzi’s center.

Azzi sighs at the feeling and she can’t help but smile, rubbing Paige’s head when she hears her mumble, “Taste like heaven.”

Azzi whispers, “Feels like heaven too baby.”

Paige hums as she begins to drag her tongue across every portion of Azzi she can reach. Like it’s the last time she’ll ever have her.

“Jesus Christ,” Azzi gasps, tightening her hands in Paige’s hair trying to find some resemblance of control as her nerves immediately start firing in every direction. The only thing she can feel is Paige’s mouth and tongue working perfectly together in tandem—the only thing she can hear is Paige’s low hums and her wetness filling the room.

Paige is completely focused on drawing sounds out of her girlfriend. Her hands wrapped around her thighs to pull her closer. Her tongue hitting every spot she knows Azzi loves with ease.

After not even a minute Azzi’s fingers tangled in Paige’s hair are tugging just enough to make Paige look up at her. The dazed look in Paige’s eyes, her lips slightly swollen and wet, sent a wave of heat through Azzi’s body.

Paige blinked, her voice soft. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Azzi swallowed hard, her grip tightening. “I need you,” she admitted, her voice nearly a plea. “I can’t wait baby.”

Paige smirked, her hands still resting on Azzi’s waist. “I just started.”

Azzi exhaled, shaking her head. “I promise you can do whatever you want later,” she whispered, her thumb brushing against Paige’s cheek. “I just need you.”

Paige’s smirk softened, she nodded. “Okay,” she murmured, placing one last lingering kiss against Azzi’s clit before trailing back up her body.

Paige came back up to be eye level with Azzi, her breath warm against her lips as she leaned down, capturing her kiss. Azzi sighed into it, her fingers threading through Paige’s hair, keeping her close.

Paige trailed her lips down Azzi’s jaw, then lower, pressing a kiss to her neck before murmuring, “Wassup? How you want it?”

Azzi hummed, tilting her head to give Paige more access as she slid her hands down Paige’s back. “I’m in charge today.”

Paige chuckled against her neck. “Word?”

Azzi smirked, pulling Paige even closer. “Mhmm. Just for a little bit.”

Paige let out a low laugh, her hands settling on Azzi’s waist. “Alright, baby—”

Before she could finish, Azzi flipped them over, straddling Paige as she settled above her. Paige’s hands instinctively found Azzi’s hips as she looked up at her with an amused expression. “You need help?”

Azzi shook her head no as she slowly eased on to the strap almost effortlessly, her hands resting on Paige’s stomach for leverage. Her fingers flexed slightly at the feeling, pressing into Paige’s skin as her eyes fluttered closed.

Paige swallowed, her own hands gripping Azzi’s waist as she took in the sight of her. Completely in awe of how easily she sunk herself onto the full length, the way she was already dripping on Paige’s thighs. “That’s crazy,” she mumbled.

Azzi still hadn’t said anything, her chest rising and falling in a slightly labored rhythm. Her eyes remained closed, as if she was feeling everything, soaking in the feeling. When she finally opened her eyes, they were completely dilated.

Azzi tilted her head to the side, her curly hair flipped in one direction and a smirk playing on her lips as she locked eyes with Paige. Her hands flexed slightly against Paige’s stomach, nails scratching lightly over her skin in a way that made Paige’s breath hitch.

“You good down there?”

Paige just shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “I fall more in love with you every day,” she whispered, her hands sliding up to grip Azzi’s waist.

Azzi knew it was true—she could see it in Paige’s eyes, feel it in the way she held her—but she still let out a breathy, playful laugh. “You’re only saying that because of what I’m about to do.”

Paige huffed out a laugh. “Definitely makes it easier.”

Azzi hummed at this and with slow movements she starts to roll her hips as she moves up and down the strap. Feeling it hit somewhere deep in her stomach she can’t help but whimper out, “Oh fuck,” as her eyes flutter closed at the feeling.

Paige whispers out, “You’re already taking it like such a good girl mama.”

Azzi let out a breathy sigh, her voice coming out in a soft, bratty whisper. “Help me, P.”

Paige licked her lips before she nodded, hands sliding to Azzi’s ass, gripping her firmly as she helped her move. Her touch was steady, guiding, making sure Azzi was taking it exactly how she wanted.

Azzi exhaled sharply, her fingers pressing into Paige’s stomach for stability. “That’s it,” she murmured, biting her lip as she looked down at Paige.

Paige smirked up at her. “Thought you said you didn’t need help.”

Azzi huffed, rolling her eyes but leaning down, brushing her lips against Paige’s jaw. “Shut up,” she mumbled before pressing a soft kiss there.

Paige chuckled, her grip on Azzi tightening. “Mmm, make me.”

Azzi pulled back just enough to meet Paige’s gaze before smiling. She reaches over to the nightstand and clicks on the vibrator.

Azzi expects Paige to gasp at the feeling but she just licks her lips as she starts rolling her hips to meet Azzi’s movements. So instead Azzi grabs Paige’s hands from her ass moving them up and pressing them down on either side of her head.

Paige exhaled, her smirk faltering for just a second as she felt the warmth of Azzi’s hands pinning her down and the extra pressure of Azzi leaning forward. “Mmm, it’s like that?”

Azzi nodded, leaning in until their lips were barely touching. “It’s like that.”

Their lips met, slow at first, a teasing push and pull as Azzi intertwined their fingers over Paige’s head, pressing their hands into the mattress. Paige let out a soft sigh into the kiss, tilting her chin up to deepen it. Azzi took her time, savoring the moment, her lips moving with control, making sure Paige only felt what she wanted her to feel.

But as the seconds stretched, patience started to run thin. Azzi pushed herself closer, her body molding against Paige’s, and the kiss shifted—no longer controlled. It turned hungry and a little desperate, the sound of their breathing filling the space between them as they lost themselves in each other. Paige squeezed Azzi’s hands in her own, tilting her head to chase Azzi’s lips every time she pulled back for air.

Azzi let out a small, needy sound against her mouth, and Paige groaned in response, “Oh shit baby..feels too good.”

"I know," Azzi whimpers out. The feeling of Paige’s hips meeting hers becoming overwhelming as heat pools in her stomach.

It doesn’t take long for both of their movements to become erratic as the heat between them threatens to spill over.

"I’m close baby.” Azzi whispers near Paige’s ear, her fingers tightening around Paige’s hand.

"It’s ok mama..been such a good girl for me. You can let go baby," Paige rambles, her own voice getting breathless.

Hearing Paige’s words is all it takes for Azzi to let the pleasure take over, desperate moans and her girlfriend’s name rolling off her tongue in succession as she rolls her hips to extend the pleasure for as long as she can.

Paige takes Azzi’s movements as her wanting more so she flips them over before sliding back into Azzi with ease.

"Ohh shit baby.” Azzi whimpers out as Paige starts working her hips at the perfect pace.

“Fuck baby, you so perfect I swear," Paige mumbles out, as she speeds up her pace resting her forehead on Azzi’s shoulder.

Azzi pushes at Paige’s waist trying to ease the way she’s pushing into her as she cries out, “P…I can’t—it’s too— too much baby.”

Paige immediately stills despite how close she feels and looks down at Azzi through hooded eyes, “I’m hurting you beautiful?”

Azzi shook her head quickly, eyes fluttering shut for a brief second before meeting Paige’s gaze again. “No,” she whimpered, overwhelmed but not wanting her to stop.

Paige studied her for a moment, searching her face before nodding and starting moving her hips again, this time a little slower.

It doesn’t take long for her to speed up again, hitting a spot deep in Azzi’s abdomen.

Azzi managed to choke out Paige’s name but no other words escaped her lips as she felt herself being consumed by what the blonde was doing to her.

Paige’s fingers tangled in Azzi’s hair, as she started to thrust deeper, pulling out completely before easing back in. "Swear you were made for me," Paige whispered, her voice a clear indication of how close she was.

"Mhmm..yes baby right there—shit baby,” Azzi whimpers scratching at Paige’s shoulders as her stomach tightens.

"You wanna cum for me pretty girl?" Paige whispers.

"Yes baby…please—keep fucking me just like that.” The feeling has Azzi’s eyes rolling back in pleasure.

"Fuck you sound so pretty—gonna make me cum baby..Im–" Paige can’t even finish her sentence as she comes undone on top of Azzi letting out a string of whispers of how good she feels.

The sound of her girlfriend is enough to send Azzi off the edge as she lets out a string of high pitched moans, her legs shaking from the sensitivity of coming undone in such quick succession.

Paige helps Azzi ride out her high, praising her as she sloppily kisses her chest before she’s pulling the strap out and collapsing on Azzi like dead weight.

Azzi huffed out a soft laugh, running her fingers lazily through Paige’s hair as she felt her girlfriend fully relax against her.

“Turn it off”

Azzi chuckles tiredly, reaching over to the nightstand without even opening her eyes. She clicked the remote, and the soft hum filling the room instantly stopped.

Their heavy breathing lingered in the silence, and Paige shifted slightly, pressing a lazy kiss to Azzi’s collarbone. Azzi hummed, running her fingers through Paige’s messy hair, nails scratching lightly against her scalp.

Paige smiled against her skin, mumbling, “You feel better?” Her tone was playful.

Azzi exhaled a laugh, still catching her breath, before mumbling, “Fuck you.”

Paige grinned, tilting her head up as she whispered, “Already did.”

Without moving from where she was laying Paige tugs off the harness, dropping it at the end of the bed.

“We getting dressed?” Azzi asked, her voice still raspy.

Paige didn’t even bother lifting her head. Instead, she pulled Azzi closer, nuzzling into her chest with a sleepy sigh. “Nope. M’sleepy.”

Azzi smiled, wrapping her arms around Paige’s shoulders as she traced absent patterns on her bare back.

Paige mumbled sleepily against Azzi’s skin, her words slurred with exhaustion from their long day. “Can’t wait to marry you, baby momma…”

Azzi’s fingers, which had been lazily tracing over Paige’s back, paused for a second before she sighed. “Paige Madison.”

Paige laughed, her breath warm against Azzi’s chest. “I love you, wifey.”

Azzi shook her head fondly, tightening her hold around Paige as she whispered back, “I love you too, baby.”

With that, they both drifted off within a few minutes. Ending their night tangled together like they had done for years.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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hoshifighting · 1 year ago

Text

Seventeen reaction when something embarrassing happens during sex

a/n: just a heads-up; It's more common than you think

Warnings: this content contains mature themes and accidents during sexual situations.

Seungcheol

you’re in the middle of the sex, feeling seungcheol's strong body moving with yours, his hands gripping your hips tightly. everything is intense and passionate until you hear him moan, “seungkwan…”

you both freeze. the room goes silent except for your heavy breaths. you can't help it; laughter bursts out of you. the absurdity of the situation, combined with the tension, makes you laugh so hard your sides ache.

the fact that your boyfriend had spent the whole day fighting with seungkwan, perhaps made the boy's name spontaneously come out of his lips, without intention.

seungcheol’s face is buried in your chest, and you feel his shoulders shaking. he lifts his head, his eyes filled with embarrassment and a hint of laughter. “i’m so sorry,” he chuckles, almost crying from shame.

you kiss his forehead, still giggling. “it’s okay, babe. you’ve been scolding him all day. no wonder his name slipped out.”

Jeonghan

jeonghan is thrusting into you, both of you lost in the rhythm of his thrusts when suddenly he lets out a loud burp. the sound is so unexpected that he immediately slows down, a look of utter embarrassment on his face.

going on a date, and eating more than a plate of fried pork and large ass glasses of beer were definitely not the best meal before having sex.

he starts laughing, shyly apologizing, “sorry, baby, i’m so full.”

you bury your face in the sheets, chuckling at the situation. “next time, maybe less fried pork before bed?”

Joshua

you’re sucking joshua greedily, feeling his hands gripping your hair, his moans filling the room. suddenly, one of his moans turns into a funny squeak. you can’t help but smile around him, the sound is so random and endearing.

joshua’s face turns red, and he looks down at you with embarrassment. “i guess i'm doing a great job,” you tease, and he laughs, his head falling back against the pillow.

Junhui

junhui comes home late, exhausted but needing you. he kisses you deeply, pushing you onto the bed, but as you ride him, you notice his moans becoming quieter. when you open your eyes, you find him asleep, his eyes half-open but clearly out of it.

you scoff softly, sliding off him. you clean him up and tuck him in, a fond smile on your face. “we can continue this in the morning,” you whisper, kissing his forehead.

Soonyoung

hoshi’s enthusiasm is infectious, but you’ve told him several times to move to the center of the bed. he doesn’t listen, too caught up in his eagerness, until he loses his balance and falls off the border with a thud.

you gasp and rush to the side of the bed, finding him on the floor looking both dazed and sheepish. “i told you to move to the center,” you say, helping him back up.

he grins, rubbing the back of his head. “guess i was a bit too excited.”

Wonwoo

wonwoo’s glasses have been slipping, but he’s too focused on you to take them off. suddenly, they fall onto your face, startling both of you. he pauses, eyes wide in horror, then quickly puts them back on, looking at you with concern.

you burst out laughing, the absurdity too much to handle. his face scrunches in embarrassment, but he joins in your laughter, relieved that you’re not hurt.

Woozi

you’re riding woozi on his couch, driven by your fertile period一that didn't go easy on you, when he suddenly groans in pain. his leg stretches out in a funny way, and you realize he has a cramp.

“do you want me to stretch it for you?” you ask, giggling.

he nods, wincing. you gently help him extend his leg, massaging the cramp away. the scene gets funnier because you're both naked stretching in the middle of his studio. he sighs in relief, a sheepish smile on his face. “thanks, babe. i think we need a short break.”

Minghao

his thrusts are powerful, each one driving the headboard against the wall with a rhythmic thud. you both have your eyes closed, lost in the sensation, when suddenly the picture frame hanging above the bed crashes down, hitting the headboard and then you.

“ouch!” you yelp, more surprised than hurt.

minghao opens his eyes, alarmed. he sees you holding the picture frame, a laugh bubbling out of you. he can’t help but chuckle too, albeit with a sheepish look.

“sorry about that,” he murmurs, taking the frame from you and hanging it back on the wall. he moves you both to a less...impacting position, continuing more gently this time.

Mingyu

mingyu's passionate thrusts have you both moving in perfect sync, until one particularly hard thrust sends your head banging against the wall with a loud thud.

you cover the top of your head, laughing despite the pain. “ouch, that one hurt!”

mingyu’s eyes go wide with worry, and before you know it, he’s running naked to the kitchen, ass, dick, balls, swaying as he runs. you laugh even harder at the sight. he returns with an ice pack, pressing it gently to your head, his face flushed with shame.

“i’m so sorry, babe,” he mumbles, his embarrassment spreading down his neck.

you kiss his cheek, still giggling. “it’s okay, mingyu. you running naked was worth it.”

Seokmin

you and seokmin love changing positions during sex, experimenting with the most unusual ones. tonight, however, is filled with accidents—your thighs bumping into each other, his cock slipping out.

after a particularly awkward attempt, he collapses back onto the bed, still giggling. “i don’t think that one’s gonna work.”

each time, you both burst into laughter, the errors becoming funnier. eventually, too tired to keep trying, you settle into classic missionary.

“guess this one’s a bit too advanced for us,” you say, still giggling.

seokmin laughs with you, nodding. “yeah, let’s stick to what we know works.”

Seungkwan

with seungkwan, laughter is a constant companion, but during sex, it’s usually a more serious affair. tonight, though, as you move together, you lock eyes in complete silence, and suddenly both of you burst into laughter.

“we really can’t take anything seriously, can we?” he says, giggling uncontrollably.

Vernon

you nod, tears of laughter streaming down your face. “nope, we’re just two giggling bitches.”

vernon loves when you ride him, often begging you to go until he can’t feel his legs. tonight, you take that request seriously. when he tries to get up to change positions, his legs are completely numb.

“baby, i can’t feel my legs,” he says, his voice a mix of awe and amusement.

you laugh, shaking his legs gently to get the blood flowing again. “guess i went a little harder today. sorry, baby.”

he chuckles, leaning back and watching you with a grin. “no complaints here.”

Chan

you and chan decide to try something new, ending up on the sturdy dining table. or so you thought. just as things are heating up, the table gives way with a loud crack, sending you both sprawling.

chan grabs you quickly, preventing you from falling face-first. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice filled with concern.

you both stay silent for a moment, the shock wearing off, then burst into laughter, the silliness of the situation too much to handle. your belly hurts from laughing so hard, and chan’s infectious laugh makes it even better.

“guess we’ll need a new table,” he says, grinning.

you nod, still giggling. “and maybe stick to the bed next time.”

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peachdues · 1 month ago

Text

“Hold my hand.”

Genya pauses taking a long — and obnoxious — slurp of his drink to blink owlishly at you. “What?”

“Hold. My. Hand.”

You don’t have time to argue and you don’t know why he’s trying. Normally, your best friend follows your commands without hesitation, without question. Always eager to help, even if he grumbles about it under his breath.

Leave it to him to decide to break habit right as your reviled ex has dared to show his stupid face.

That stupid, stupid face. And stupid, stupid you for falling for it.

But not this time. You’ll show the idiot exactly what he gave up when he dumped you over ramen, when he tossed you his used napkin to dab at your watery eyes, and was out the door before you could even ask what you’d done wrong.

If only Genya would cooperate. Instead, he only continues to stare at you blankly, his straw halfway between his lips.

Fine; time to take matters into your own hands, and that means his can’t be full. Faster than he can blink, you snatch his soda cup from his grasp and chuck it into a nearby trash can.

Genya gapes at you, anger rapidly pinching his brow together. “What’re you —“

“Just shut up,” you hiss under your breath as you force your fingers through his. You plaster a smile onto your face, one that screams you’re happy. Deliriously happy, thank you very much, more than content to have that stupid asshole out of your life. Everything is just fucking peachy.

You can feel your ex’s eyes narrow in on you; on the best friend walking beside you, the one he didn’t like hanging around but was too chicken shit to actually confront because, unlike your ex, Genya is huge. Broad shouldered and tall, taller than his brother, even, and deadly precise with a bow and arrow thanks to the hours he put into practicing with the archery club. Not someone glib little rats like your ex would want to mess with.

All too aware of his attention, you force out a too-exaggerated laugh. One that says Genya is funny, too funny, so much funnier than he ever was.

Beneath the crushing grip of your fingers, Genya’s skin grows warmer. You don’t have to look at him to know he’s turned red. You just hope the tomato-hue of his cheeks passes as the blush of a lovesick fool, and not your mortified best friend.

Despite the obvious signs of his discomfort — and Genya’s clear confusion — you can’t help but notice how perfectly his hand fits in yours. Large, capable of swallowing your hand whole even though you’re the one practically dragging him along in this farce of yours. It’s softer than you would’ve thought, too, his fingers marked only by small calluses. No doubt earned from the hours you know he spends under the sun, hands buried in soil as he tends to a collection of bonsai he’s been cultivating for the last year.

It’s odd; until now, Genya has only ever been your best friend. Someone to boss around, to barter shared looks of boredom with during the long hours spent in math class when his elder brother launches into a rant about formulas neither of you ever plan to use outside of the classroom.

Here, feet from your ex, however, you can’t help but wonder whether Genya’s hand is the missing piece to puzzle of your heart. Never has anything felt to natural. So right.

Your ex draws nearer and you squeeze Genya’s hand in warning.

He must finally realize why you’re not looking at him, for you feel his body stiffen next to yours. Genya has made no secret of his intense dislike of your ex even while you were still together. Now that you’ve been dumped on your ass, that distaste has bloomed into abject loathing, and one he is not shy about broadcasting to anyone who will listen — your math teacher, your mother, even the clerk at the corner store.

Genya shifts forward, positioning his body slightly ahead of yours so that he leads. His hand tightens in your grasp, firm and steady in every way you aren’t, and it sets off a flutter in your stomach. A quick glance at his profile reveals a jaw set determinedly, his eyes sharp and narrowed in on the rapidly approaching form of your ex; a marksman eyeing his target.

Genya smirks.

Where the hell did this sudden gust of confidence come from? This can’t be the same boy who once turned purple when Kocho-sensei praised his ability to distinguish between leaf phenotypes in biology. Genya hadn’t been able to speak for the rest of the day, and he’d nearly crawled under the lab table to escape the pretty teacher’s even prettier smile.

None of that boyish awkwardness can be found now. This Genya is all threatening stares and assured movements, his thumb boldly stroking across your knuckles in an open display of possession. Of challenge.

This time, you feel your cheeks heat.

Nearer and nearer your ex draws, eyes locked unblinkingly with Genya’s. Just as you’re ready to pass, your ex drops lowers his gaze, opting to glare hatefully — ruefully — at the pavement below.

The laugh that bursts from your mouth is genuine; a cackle of sheer delight that makes Genya snort in agreed amusement.

Behind you there’s a scuffle of movement — feet stumbling over a break in the pavement and hastily trying to regain balance.

Neither of you bother to turn back. No point. You: one. Your ex: zero.

“Told ya he was a shit.” Genya murmurs once clear out of earshot. “You’re better off without him. Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah, hindsight is twenty-twenty.” You wave him off with your free hand. “At least now I can actually focus on the important things.”

Like dissecting this new Genya from head to toe, and finding out where oh where, he managed to pull that facade from.

Speaking of his newfound bravado, you glance down at your still-joined hands, and a smile steals at your lips.

“You can let go of my hand, now.”

Genya’s blush stretches all the way down his neck, past the collar of his shirt. Quickly, too quickly, he drops your hand and clears his throat. “Right, sorry.”

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #genya shinazugawa #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny genya #shinazugawa genya #genya x reader #genya shinazugawa x reader

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letorip · 8 months ago

Note

can u give us a summary of kiss with a fist 4 without spoiling?

lol... here's a spoiler

kiss with a fist [iv]

"you smashed a plate over my head, then I set fire to our bed"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: just as things begin to complicate even more between you and tara, her life becomes even more complicated

warnings: blood, angst, curse words, kissing, borderline sexual content

word count: 4.2k

A/N: i contemplated doing this in so many ways and i ended up thinking it was just funnier if i answered with the literal story. so... it was at least funny to me. it's shorter than normal, just because i didn't want to split up an action scene that'll take place next time, so expect a much longer part next time.

===+++===

You didn’t like police stations very much, and you weren’t exactly doing a good job of keeping it hidden. Your knee bounced against the dusty linoleum in a quiet tapping noise, and although you yourself couldn’t hear it with the endless amount of phones ringing and shouting down the hall, Tara clearly could.

Her head rested on your shoulder, where you had slumped, and she placed a hand right upon your knee, stopping it from bouncing anymore. Her dark eyes looked up at you. “You’re making me even more nervous.”

“Sorry,” you rushed, quick to pull your knee away from her hand.

Tara frowned, looking back down to the tiling. “Of course this had to happen.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What do you mean?” She shrugged, and you had to nudge her gently. “Tara?”

“Nothing,” she murmured. "Just Sam's license and her getting attacked at the bodega... I wasn't there, (Y/n)."

"You couldn't have known," you said, frowning at her. "Everyone thought all the 'Stab' shit was over."

"Yeah," Tara scoffed. "Mindy always says lightning doesn't strike twice, but I'm starting to wonder if that's really true."

"Or maybe it's just a crazed copycat. There's no way of knowing it's actually after you yet."

"That's not what Sam'll say." She had an uncharacteristic look of defeat in her eyes that you hadn't seen before. Tara was a spitfire, even to Sam. But she looked beside herself, wallowing against the soft fabric of your jumper. "Sam'll say that Ghostface is back. That we need to leave."

"Maybe she's right," you shrug.

"Maybe," Tara said. "But I don't want to go. I don't want to leave. I want to live, but... if it's not him, I can't just keep living my life on the run from whoever's chasing me. That means Amber won."

"Amber?"

"Yeah... Amber. Amber Freeman. She was my, uh, girlfriend."

"Oh," you frown. Tara's dark eyes looked up at you, nervously watching your reaction.

"Yeah... and she was Ghostface."

"Oh," you repeated. Tara never spoke about her much, and neither had the rest of the core four, really. It had never really dawned on you to ask, just because it seemed important to Tara, and for the longest time, what was important to her wasn't important to you. "Are you still nursing that wound?" you asked.

She smiled, but it did not reach the corners of her eyes. "Sometimes. It feels weird since she almost killed me, but there are times I really miss her. Grief demands to be felt, and all."

"Even if it's a murderous psychopath?" you asked with a smile.

"Yeah," she snorted, turning her head on your shoulder. "Even if it's a murderous psychopath." Then, she grew serious. "We should probably talk about last night, right?"

You froze, swallowing what felt like a lump in your throat. "Uh, now?"

"Well, it's just, I kind of felt something... I don't know. I know we said this was fake and all, and I don't know if you have your eye on anyone else right now," Tara began to ramble, "so if you do, don't feel pressured to agree to anything. I know I kind of made a messy situation out of this, and I don't even know where to go--"

But she was interrupted by the door down the hall opening. It was loud enough that your attention was pulled towards it, and through it came a woman with a stack of files in her arm. She smiled warmly at Tara, walking right over, and Tara seemed to recognise her, sitting up in her chair.

The warmth on your chest where her head had been was gone in an instant, and you would have been lying if you said you hadn't selfishly begun to miss it.

"Tara, right?" the woman asked with a smile, and Tara nodded, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and an underlying suspicion. But the woman just gave her a gentle smile.

"Kirby," she said, extending her arm out for a handshake. "Kirby Reed. I used to go to high school with Sam, and now I'm with the FBI."

Your eyes widened. If the FBI were now involved with the case, it was definitely not a good sign. You felt Tara's hand go to yours, squeezing it. If you were to ask her about it, she'd likely say it was to calm the nervousness you hadn't been able to hide on your face, but you knew that it was to steady herself, if anything.

"FBI?" Tara asked. "So it's really him?"

Kirby frowned. "I'm hoping it's some copycat, but from what I've seen so far, I'm not too sure. Is Sam still back there being questioned?"

Tara nodded, grimacing. "Apparently, both of us are people of interest. Our roommate's dad is on the case."

"Well," Kirby said, "I'll see if I can help him." She turned to you. "And who's this?" she asked.

"Uh--" you started, but Tara shook her head, interrupting.

"--(Y/n) isn't involved," she glared, defending you with a ferocity in her voice.

Kirby gave you a look over. "Are you sure? I don't mean to disrespect either of you, but are you sure you can trust them, Tara? It's never who you expect."

Tara nods. "I know they're not Ghostface. (Y/n) wouldn't lie."

(Y/n) wouldn't lie. The sentence made you sick to your stomach. You could see Calvin in your mind, laughing at how you got yourself into this situation. Alisha would've found it funny, too. You swallowed, standing up from the chair. You smiled weakly at Tara. "It's okay, Tar. I'll go home... just let me know if you need to leave... for the... uh, arrangement, or whatever."

She nodded, mouth drawn into a line. "Yeah... see you later... Duck," she said, trying equally as hard to smile. You turned around, walking out.

===+++===

You had pretty much collapsed into bed, the moment you got home. It had been an exhausting few hours, what with finishing your model and then rushing with Tara to the police station. Your final class of the semester was later in the day, so you would take any sort of sleep you could get.

And the sleep you took, waking up a few hours later with mussed-up hair and a final to get over and done with. You grabbed the model and your backpack, heading for the train station, and finally checking your phone for the first time in a little while.

Little Shit (do not pick up): mindy wants everyone at the park later, after your final

Little Shit (do not pick up): good luck with that, btw

Little Shit (do not pick up): also we should still probably talk about last night i didn't get to finish earlier

You gave a thumbs-up to the first message, and quickly typed back a thanks, before tucking it into your pocket. The critique was boring, but you couldn't help but feel yourself swell with pride when your professor complimented the small amount of green space you had put within the actual walls of the building. It had been Tara's idea, and you reminded yourself to thank her later. Now all you had to do was go to Mindy's weird meeting, and you could begin your break.

The group was sitting on a group of benches near the green, with Mindy hovering over them, her arms crossed. When she saw you coming, she raised her eyebrow at you in suspicion. You rolled your eyes, coming to sit down next to where Tara had saved you a seat.

She sent you a small smile when you did, weaving your fingers together. You knew that to the group she was just doing it because you and Tara were allegedly a couple, but just to you it felt like so much more than that.

And it made you feel a little bit sick, again.

"How'd your final go?" she asked, and it made your heart stop for a moment, the way her warm brown eyes looked in the soft sunlight. You shrugged, but could not stop the smile spreading itself on your face.

"The professor liked your idea."

"Really?!" she asked, sounding super excited, and you nodded. "Well now who's silly, for telling me it was a bad idea?"

"Well because it is a silly idea, genuinely who would think of that."

"I would. It isn't silly, it's cool."

"I'm afraid cool doesn't always work, Tara."

"It did this time," she said smugly, sticking her tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes, knowing but not hating that she'd be gloating about it for weeks.

"Lovebirds, cut the chit-chat," Mindy shot, glaring in your direction, and Tara huffed in annoyance but begrudgingly turned towards her. "Now, as terrifying as it all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time."

"Mindy," Sam chided, arms crossed over her chest.

"Right, sorry," she said. "The way I see it, someone’s out to make a sequel to the requel."

"What’s a requel?" Anika asked, leaning forward as if trying to understand her girlfriend's antics. You didn't know either.

"You’re beautiful, sweetie, but let’s hold questions to the end," Mindy teased.

From next to you, Tara looked more worried. "Stab 1 took place in Woodsboro, but Stab 2 took place in college…"

Sam tensed. "So you think the killer’s copying the second movie?"

"Like a homage!" Chad suggested, looking proud of himself. The rest of the group shot him a look. "What? You all I know took French, it should not be a surprise that I know that word."

"Just a little bit," Tara teased. He sent her a small smile, one that you knew came from his massive crush on her. It only made you feel a bit worse about the both of you.

"That’s one possibility," Mindy said, nodding at the suggestion. "Heroes now in college? Check. Suspicious new characters brought in to round out the suspect list and/or body count?" she looked at you, Ethan, Quinn, and Anika. "Check, check, check, and check."

"I really don't like this," Ethan said.

"But it can’t only be about Stab 2," Mindy continued. Tara's eyebrows furrowed.

"Why not?" she asked.

Mindy had a glint in her eye. "It would make sense if this were just a sequel. But we’re not in a sequel, because nobody just makes sequels anymore."

"So what is it?" you asked, deciding to bite on her theory.

"We’re in a franchise. And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise," she replied.

Sam sighed. "I had a feeling."

But Mindy wasn't deterred. "Now, rule one: everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count; longer chases, shoot-outs, beheadings- you gotta top what came before to keep people coming back."

"Beheadings?" Chad asked, taking notes.

Next to him, Ethan looked rather lost. Quinn and Anika looked just as confused. You were glad you weren't the only one lacking a real understanding of how the core four operated. They had earned a right to be a little nuts after surviving Woodsboro, that you knew. But the whole thing seemed a bit conspiratorial.

"Rule Two, whatever happened before, expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting expectations; if the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of personalities, you can bet the opposite will be true here." It was hard to absorb these things laid out as facts, and you struggled to follow Mindy's train of thought, sending Anika a wary glance. She just shrugged.

Tara noticed your confusion, sending a small squeeze to your hand and mouthing the word 'later.' You nodded, turning your attention back to Mindy, attempting to do your best to listen.

"And Rule Three, no one is safe. Legacy characters are cannon fodder at this point, usually brought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia. Sidney’s smart to sit this one out, but it’s not looking too good for Gale and Kirby. And that’s not even the worst part."

"There's a worst part?" You asked. Mindy nodded, smirking.

"The worst part is franchises are just continuing episodic instalments designed to boost an IP, which means the main characters are completely expendable now too. Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson, Ellen Ripley, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James Bond, even Luke Skywalker all died so their franchises could live on. That means it’s not just the friend group, any of us could go at any time, especially Sam and Tara."

You sent Tara a wary look at the suggestion, leaning harder against her. She tried to send you a small smile to comfort you, but it did little to stop the thought coming to your mind. You were cursed, that much was true from the sheer amount of grief that seemed to permeate around your family. It was a bad idea, to get so close to Tara, and that you knew. But it didn't stop the fact that you had a near electric desire to do so whenever she was nearby.

"Wait, any of us? Am I in the friend group?" Ethan asked, beginning to panic. "Am I one of the targets? Am I gonna die a virgin?"

"Um," Mindy started, blinking. "Weird overshare, but at least that brings us to our current suspects." Her gaze steeled over.

"Ethan. The shy dorky guy who no one suspects, because he’s so shy and dorky." Next to him, Chad shot him a more assessing glance.

"Why am I on the list? Because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?!" Ethan asked, raising his voice.

"Roommate lotteries can be juked, you could have fixed it to get next to us," Mindy shot back, crossing her arms in increased suspicion. She turned to Quinn. "Quinn. The slutty roommate. A horror movie classic."

"Sex positive," Quinn corrected, "but thank you."

"And how did you come to live with Sam and Tara?" Mindy asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I answered their ad online--" Quinn started, and Mindy scoffed, raising her hand up.

"Say no more, you’ve already implicated yourself enough. 'Ad online,' good lord."

"Mindy, it was an anonymous ad, and you know we vetted her, plus her Dad’s a cop," Tara interjected.

"Tara, Tara, Tara," Mindy said, shaking her head. "Cop Dad? That's a great cover. Don't you get that's how these movies would work? Speaking of, while we're on Tara," she continued, turning to you.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi (Y/n)," she replied, smiling. It dropped to a frown. Tara's grip on your hand tightened. "(Y/n). The enemies-to-lovers, quippy 'annoyance' one of our main characters has incredible sexual tension with."

"Ew," Sam shuddered.

"Ew indeed," Mindy agreed. "Never trust the love interest." She looked over to Anika, who was smiling at her girlfriend. "Ever." Anika's face fell.

"Okay. So we’ve got our rules, and we’ve got our suspects," Sam huffed.

"Wait- what about the rest of you?" Ethan interrupted.

"I mean, I think it’s safe to rule out the four of us who went through this last year in Woodsboro," Mindy shrugged.

"Agreed," Chad nods.

"Um, not agreed. Maybe the trauma of what you went through caused one or more of you to snap," Quinn suggested, playing with the nail polish on her fingers.

"Or the fame you got from the killings made you thirsty for more! Ethan jumped in again. "And, let’s be honest, some of those theories online about Sam are--"

Tara sends him a death glare. "Don'y you fucking dare finish that sentence."

"He’s right, though. Face facts. If we’re all suspects? You’re all suspects," Anika shrugs.

You sent a wary look around at everyone and then another look back down to Tara, wondering which one would hurt her, and just how you'd be able to stop it.

===+++===

That night was the first night in a while nothing was expected of you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to actually relax. Mindy's monologue about how royally bloody fucked everything was now that Ghostface was officially back had set you a bit on edge, and part of you couldn't help but blame yourself.

You had thought the curse would get left behind in Nebraska, when you left, but it seemed maybe you had taken it with you, packed with your belongings. Maybe it was now affecting the person you had wished to protect from any harm. It still felt miraculous, just how Tara had wormed her way from your shit list to deep within your heart. Maybe that was the curse. Someone who could make you so annoyed could also make you feel like your heart was skipping beats.

You coped with the extreme worrying through a cooked meal and TV binge, flopping down on the couch and turning your ringer on, in case you were needed. You knew that Sam and Tara were likely preparing for the worst, and you also knew that you had been included on the list of suspects.

Maybe none of them rightfully believed you had it in you, but you also knew that even being a possibility meant that the core four had to keep you at arm's length for a while.

Or, at least, that's what you figured they'd do.

Right as the episode you were watching began to roll credits, you heard a hard knock on the door, freezing. Mindy had said something in a text, telling you to be cautious of opening doors when no one was scheduled to come over. You shot a wary look to your magnetic strip of knives, hanging over the hotplate. If you were just fast enough, maybe you could grab a knife or two, if Ghostface busted the door in. There was usually a phone call, wasn't there? Then why--

"(Y/n)?" Tara called, giving a hard knock. You felt your cheeks flush. Oh. You dashed to the door, not wanting to leave her on the step for too long.

When you opened it, you could see that Tara's own cheeks were flushed, and her chest was rising and falling rapidly.

"Did you run here???" you asked, raising your eyebrows.

"Uh...maybe," Tara said, suddenly finding the hallway outside of your flat much more interesting.

"I thought Sam would have you under lock and key," you teased.

"I snuck out..." Tara said, cheeks flushing again, but this time not from the run.

"Oh, so I'm harbouring a criminal?" you joked. Tara rolled her eyes, groaning.

"Can I just come in?"

"Do you trust me to do that?" you asked, curious. "I understand if you say no, believe me I get it. If I had been attacked or anything, especially by my girlfriend, I wouldn't trust anyone for a long time..."

Tara watched you ramble speak, eyes wide and dark and beautiful in the dim hall light. "I trust you... and I, uh, want some small amount of normalcy, like it was at the lab. Before everything got so weird, you know?"

You nodded, stepping aside for her to enter and then freezing. "Wait, Tara, what happened to your hand?"

You hadn't noticed until now, but her knuckles on the other hand had been bruising a dusty purple colour, still red at the edges. You let the door shut behind you, turning to her hand and holding it up in the lamplight of your hall. "What happened?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Tara's cheeks flushed again. "I punched a bitch," she said flatly. Your eyes widened even more, and Tara was quick to shake her head. "Just Gale Weathers. She wrote, uh, a whole book on Woodsboro. Called Sam a bunch of bad stuff. She actually was outside the station with the news and stuff when Sam was questioned earlier today... so I punched her."

You snorted. "Judging by your hand you definitely got her."

"Oh absolutely," Tara scoffed, as if she was offended by a possibility that she hadn't.

"You should probably ice it," you said with a wince, looking at the bruised skin. She scoffed again.

"What're you, a doctor?"

You shrugged, leading her into your kitchen. "I was going to be."

"Oh," Tara hummed.

"Yeah... took one introductory class and realised I hated it. It sucks too, because I gave my parents this whole speech about how I wanted to be a doctor because of our family, and I dropped the profession about a month or two later afterwards."

"Is that why you and your dad don't talk much?" she asked. "Is he a doctor?"

"No," you said, shaking your head. It was an amusing suggestion. "About as far as you could get from it, actually. But no, it isn't why we don't really talk." You didn't say any more on the subject, even though you could tell that Tara was curious. "We should really get you iced up, your hand is swollen, I can't believe you didn't show me this earlier."

She rolled her eyes. "You're acting like my parent again."

"I'm just worried about you, Tara," you said, shooting her a meaningful look. She was staring up at you with those damn eyes again like you held her heart in your hands. "I mean, come on, let's just put a bag of ice on it or something, or--"

But before you could finish what you were suggesting, Tara interrupted you, throwing her arms around your neck and standing up on her toes. "Is this okay?" she whispered, voice low. It flooded your ears and squeezed the air from your lungs, just how close her lips were from yours.

You can't help the small nod, or the way you're probably dumbly staring at her mouth right now, but her eyes are warm and inviting, and your hands find their way to her waist, palming at the exposed skin of her cropped shirt with your thumbs. "I've, uh, kind of wanted to do this for weeks," Tara admits with a small grin. The words spin around and around in your mind like you're on some carousel of thought.

If you could have formed words, you would have told her the truth: you had wanted to kiss her since she walked in the room and you saw her for the first time. But you can't. So instead, you crash your lips onto hers.

Tara doesn't hesitate even a little bit, wrapping her arms around your neck and falling off her toes as she kisses you back with fervour. You follow her down, working your lips against hers as her hands give up on your neck and instead move to spread themselves out on the warm apples of your cheeks.

You're taken over by some other, hungry entity entirely, and you lift Tara up onto the kitchen counter, into the exact same place she was sitting when she asked you for help with this stupid scheme. It doesn't matter now, you're too lost in her lips. You feel her tongue push past and into your mouth, and her hands travel up your back to spread out against the back of your shirt and pull you against her.

You can't help the groan that escapes your mouth, and you feel Tara's teasing smile against your lips as she breathes in your smell. Your hands are still on her waist, sliding up so that your thumbs gently brush against the bottom of her bra. She shudders at the sensation, opening her mouth wider, and you can taste the lingering cherry of her chapstick on her lips.

Neither of you is especially sure how long you stay there, but when you finally have to pull away, you're scrambling for air. You lazily let your forehead rest against hers, catching your breath and struggling to stay on your feet. Tara lets her hands wander from your back into your hair, exploring the planes of your body for the first time, and you can't stop the small comment that worms its way from your mouth after.

"Exploring the merchandise?" you ask with a teasing, breathless laugh. Tara shakes her head, finally opening her eyes and looking up at you with that same damn beautiful look.

"You should come stay with me and the others. It's safer that way," she says, becoming worried again. Her hands rest on your cheeks and she kisses you again, softer, but just as meaningful.

You painfully have to shake your head. "I can't, you know that."

"I won't be mad if you leave town," she says. "I won't hold it against you."

You smile. "I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere, Tara."

She nods, processing it, before crashing her lips back onto yours and tugging at the bottom of your shirt, but you catch her hands before she can tug it over your head. "No, Tara- Tara wait."

"I want you," she says.

"I know, but we should wait," you say, hands on the side of her thighs. "Wait until it's over. Right now, Ghostface is more important."

"He gets everything, (Y/n). I just want this. I want you. I know we did this whole thing about fake dating, and I know it wasn't real, but I realise that I want it to be. I just want you."

There's a burning in your stomach, burning for her, and you pull her in for another kiss. Only to be stopped by the sound of your door creaking open.

You freeze and so does Tara at the noise. "(Y/n)?" she asks, trembling. "Did you lock your front door?"

===+++===

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN catch you all next time for a big ole action sequence and a whole bunch of drama

#letorip #answered #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter

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quandledlngle69 · 5 months ago

Text

･ﾟ★ HOW THE BLUE!LOCK BOYS MET YOU .ᐟ PART I.

☆ CONTENT: How the Blue lock characters met you and how they act after you get into a relationship + Different aesthetics I think suit the blue lock characters and the aesthetics and looks their partner would have. ☆ GENRE/THEMES/WARNING: mentions of Bachira being bullied, kaiser being a dick like always, all readers in this fic are black women! ☆ PAIRING: Reo!Mikage, Michael!Kaiser, Itoshi!Sae, Itoshi!Rin, Meguru!Bachira x Black!femreader. ☆ W.C. 3.4K ☆ NOTE: Sorry if this is seems rushed lmfao it kinda felt like it, also i am currently attempting to write for the other characters on my page as this is going to be a two part thing, enjoy.ᐟ

Itoshi Sae – TROPICAL GODDESS – Oh Qué Será?, Willie Colón.

After a particularly heavy and busy season of his football career, Sae takes himself to the summer beaches of Puerto Rico. He scrolls on his phone, his feed mostly full of other footballers and professionally taken sightseeing views. Until he stops on your post.

You're posing on a bar stool, the photo clearly had been asked to be taken by the bartender in front of you. Your palm holding up your cheek, eyes dreamily squinted closed as if you were enjoying the warmth of the sun on your back. The orange light reflected on your dark skin, making you look as radiant as a dancing sunflower. Your crochet bikini looked hand made, and the many pieces of gold jewellery overlapping on your neck and fingers only tied the whole aesthetic you had. A bright sunshine yellow hibiscus flower was planted snuggly in the ebony waves that cascaded down your back, like a fierce lion's mane.

Your smile was so cheeky–like you were having the time of your life. It made Sae breathless. He had been approached by many women of different walks of life: actresses, models, born wealthy, generally famous, and yet the more he dissected your single post with his sharp teal eyes, the more his lungs felt squeezed. You know what made him even more breathless? The fact that he recognized the outside bar.

Because he was a few feet away from it. And you know what's even funnier?

You're sitting on the same bar stool, in the same outfit, sipping the pina colada he saw in the corner of the picture. And as you turn your head, your penetrating gaze left him frozen in his place in the hot sand.

Itoshi Sae is not one to approach anyone, let alone a beautiful woman like you.

But maybe he’ll bend his own rules, this once.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★

When you and Sae finally get together, you’ll notice he never looks at anyone how he looks at you. His indifference fades, and his cold eyes soften every time you talk or gaze at him. To him, you're a goddess, and don’t be surprised when you catch him staring at you, or when you're snuggled under the covers, and the rough pads of his fingertips are ever so gentle tracing every feature on your face like he’s committing it to memory. He’ll drop everything for you, it doesn’t matter where he is. Training? An interview? A Match? In a different country? None of those factors matter when it comes to you. You're his ride or die, and he proves that everytime without fail. He travels with you every time a season ends, and every new location posted has a blurry figure in the back, or a hand on your thigh or waist. People started getting suspicious when they could recognise the bracelets in the pictures were identical to the ones Sae wore in his matches. The suspicion turned into concrete proof when you had the mistake of posting a selfie Sae took with sunglasses on.

You kinda forgot the fact you could see his whole reflection in the shades.

Reo Mikage – LAW STUDENT/ACADEMIC RIVALS – Obsessed, Mariah Carey.

From elementary to highschool, Reo had always been at the top of his class, the ‘well liked class president’. Coming home with anything less than an A was unacceptable, especially with the weight on his shoulders of inheriting his fathers company. So when he was finally accepted into a prestigious school like Harvard, he was more than giddy.

He also wasn't silly, and recognised that it would be extremely competitive. The job demand for lawyers and judges was no joke.

Yet when he was told it would be competitive, he didn’t sign up for the frustration, annoyance and jealousy bundled and wrapped just for him, all from one person. Because although he was top of his class, there was one person who he butted heads with.

You.

You, who sat in the lecture hall a few rows in front of him on the far left, you who had the most perfect side parted honey–blonde bob he’s ever seen. You, who pushes your oval glasses up every ten minutes when it slides down your nose. You, who comes to the lecture five minutes early routinely. You, who was continuously handed A pluses like it was child's play. You, who consecutively has a routine of fixing your lips after class is dismissed: Charlotte Tilbury lip liner, followed by NYX butter gloss, then clear lip gloss on top of it.

Did he learn that against his will? …no, but your very distracting–

The first real interaction was when you were both voted as tied class presidents. At the end of class, you were both called up to the front by your professor, and for the first time, he had your undivided attention. And it was exactly what he was expecting– a stare that was calculating, studious of him. He was used to this from his fathers businesses partners, or other important high status people–but coming from you? It made him weak, almost like a little boy with a crush.

And god–was that your perfume? It was more pleasant than any of his expensive colognes at home. It was like a warm sugar vanilla, a fresh bakery. And– wait, when did you get that close? You were an arms length away, hands clasped together politely in front of you.

“It’s pleasant to finally talk to you, Reo right?”

You already knew his name. Is it strange to say it's satisfying hearing his name fall from your lips?

You're more gorgeous up close than he could imagine, and your outstretched palm is warm as he gently grasps it for a handshake, your manicured nails fresh. You smile at him, and he swears it's like watching someone hang up the moon and stars in the sky. Reo knows he gets everything in life–but can he be selfish this once and ask for you?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★

When you guys get together, just know Reo will not let you pay for anything. He would rather die than let your card be swiped at a five–star restaurant, or pay for your own nails, hair, or makeup. And do not tell this man you're going shopping, he’ll raise his eyebrow to ask if, ‘you're missing something’ and to your confused look, he’ll drop his platinum black card in your hands without a word and walk off. He will be kicking his feet every time you get your hair done. Oh you got a different length? Let him touch it. A different colour? Send him a pic as soon as it's done. You got the same colour as his hair? He’s basically yours for life and you're never getting rid of him. He manages to spoil you more than your stereotypical bald dad–and just that manages to gain your fathers approval of Reo.

Meguru Bachira – THE ART STUDENT – Is This Love, Bob Marley.

Bachira first met you because his mother encouraged him to take afterschool art classes in highschool. This year had been poor, and besides his football teammates being barely his acquaintances, he had no friends of his own. He wasn’t expecting much out of it, but at least it sounded therapeutic.

He had walked into the room, immediately being hit with a sweet, gentle floral perfume, and the lingering scent of herbal medicine behind it. The corners of the classroom were covered in green, various plants that seemed to be thriving laying around.

The chairs and desk were purposely shifted into the corner to make room for everything else. The largest window wide open, the breeze coming and going as it pleases, the brown transparent curtains gently flailing around. You were sitting on a little stool in front of a large canvas that's half–painted by your hands. He stood there, just..watching quietly, you didn't even notice his presence from how deep in concentration you were. Your odd patterned ankle skirt swayed gently from the wind of the open window, your gold chain belt drooping off your hip, your off the shoulder striped sweater muddled with different colours of paint. Your butterfly locs were up in a high bun, out of your face as you worked. The sun shone brightly through the window, perfectly lighting up your portrait. You yourself quietly hummed to the melody of the reggae song on the radio, dipping your brush back into the water and mixing it back and forth, the sound of sloshing water filling the air.

When the door behind him shut rather loudly–it finally got your attention as you looked up, surprised, but a shy beam of a smile on your face, the twinkle in your eyes made his heart stutter a little.

“Hello, you must be Meguru, right? I heard you wanted to join the art club.” You chirped, putting your paint brush down. “I'm happy, oh–and I'm the co–founder of this club! It’s nice to meet you!”

He was barely paying attention to your words, just nodding along as he stared at your form getting closer, the floral scent he had been smelling in the background getting stronger.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★

It took a while, but when he finally got the courage to ask you out, you had said yes, and he was dumbfounded. He didn’t have any friends, so having a girlfriend? It wasn’t something he ever imagined. One of the things that you love about Bachira is how observant he is. You had complained to him once that your favourite foundation ran out, and you searched for weeks but couldn’t find another one in your shade. Bachira, being the amazing one he is, had an exceptional talent beside football and that was remembering colour theory. He only had to look at the colour once, before he made the perfect shade match. So when he comes over to yours with a bottle of a warm copper foundation, you were sceptical at first, until you did a swatch on your face, and you were delightfully surprised it was a flawless match.

You definitely spoiled him with kisses for this.

Your days are filled with a child–like silliness and laughter purer than anything on earth. His mother loves you–and that's just a fact. You also realise he’s extremely messy, and he gets paint everywhere– how does one get paint behind their ears? You show him a whole other world, one where he doesn’t have to be lonely. He truly appreciates you, and the weekends he spends at your house–why didn’t you tell him you had a hammock in the middle of your room?!

You spend many afternoons inside the sun–filled space, slow music playing in the back while he splayed on top of you in the hammock, dozing off, cheek to your chest as you scratched his back. And you may be like a dancing mushroom, but it would be a mistake to anyone wanting to bully Bachira in your presence. You wouldn’t be physical, neither verbally abusive, but you would break someone down with your words. Someone's bullying Bachira because he’s ‘weird’? You will and definitely go onto a whole rant about how that person's self–projecting, making them rethink their actions for the next ten years, and his heart swells a little more every time you defend him.

Itoshi Rin – TENNIS PLAYER – Black Beauty, Lana Del Ray.

Rin had heard of you before. The girl who had come from nowhere, climbing up the ranks of tennis with one dominating win at a time. He had watched one of your plays once when you came up on TV. You were a beast on the court, leaving your opponent in complete despair, crushing their massive egos with an indifference he was familiar with. Your colour palette was also neural; black, white and grey, whether you were on the court or not. You had such a clean look to you. Bare faced, the only ‘makeup’ product you used was the aloe chapstick kept in your skirt pocket, your hair was always slicked back into that high barbie ponytail. Even your nails–a plain nude almond.

Perhaps he didn’t want to admit these details of you stuck in his brain because he hadn’t stopped watching you since he first saw you on the big screen. He’d rather die than admit to anyone that ever since he saw you on TV, he’d been collecting little subtle merchandise.

Maybe there's a poster of you in his room. But no one needs to know that.

So when he finally made it to the world cup a few months later and he was up with the big dogs, it was hard to calm his racing heart when he was sat next to the tennis team; who were there to fill in the halftime with a quick little match. And maybe the gods were blessing him this once. Because it was you he was sitting next to.

You barely glanced at him as he sat down, (which he was honestly grateful for) wired earbuds in your ears, steely analysing the field. To him, you seemed nonchalant.

Little does he know about the heat creeping up your neck and cheeks. What are the chances you sit next to the Itoshi Rin? You hope he doesn’t know how much of a fan you are. He probably doesn’t even know you. Oh you hope he doesn’t–there's been some unsightly images of you from the press during your matches–

He had noticed the way your leg started to bounce, as if you were anxious about something.

You attempted to calm your rampant heart –get it together! He’s an athlete just like you! Would it be weird to ask for an autograph? No, it would be totally weird.

But before you could draw away from your decision, you let out a shaky breath, and with a straight–face, turned towards him. You swallowed thickly, aware he was already looking straight at you with those sharp teal irises.

His bottom lashes were even longer upclose.

“Your Itoshi Rin, right?” You address him miraculously without stuttering, your tone not too excited, but humble, not to seem displeasing.

His voice comes out huffed, almost defensive enough to make you falter.

“Yeah, what's it to you?” You think he’s annoyed, but in reality he doesn’t know how to talk to pretty girls like you at all. You’ve got your attention on him, and he doesn’t know what to do with it, he internally cringes at his tone, hoping he didn’t come off as cold. He thinks he’s fumbling with the way you slightly shrink into yourself, but your next words completely take him off guard.

“Can I have your autograph?”

There was a beat of silence for a moment.

You don’t miss the way the tips of his ears turn adorably pink as he mumbles what seems like an agreement under his breath.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★

When you guys finally get together, honestly it's a long struggle of who can last being the most nonchalant. Rin definitely cracks first. But when you guys finally warm up to each other, you notice Rin is very observant of your quirks, your likes and dislikes. He remembers you don't like mushrooms or olives, how your eyebrow arches when confused or in disbelief, and how you bounce the tennis ball four times exactly before you swing. It warms his cold heart that you're the same way, finding and grabbing any owl object you could find. Plushies, keychains, posters, shirts, anything, all from him mentioning once in a passing comment his favourite animal was an owl when you were snuggled on the couch watching a nature documentary.

Michael Kaiser – FASHION STYLIST – NISSAN ALTIMA, Doechii.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence that Micheal Kaiser and his team got a new fashion stylist for the upcoming season. His manager said something about switching it up a little every now and again–not like he cared to listen. It was their biggest sponsorship yet–one that had nothing to do with sports.

We're talking about working with Vogue, Dior, Saint Laurent, Clavin Klein, etc. Top end brands that suited a high–profile person like Kaiser and the rest of his team. So when they finally stepped inside the studio that was preparing them for their photoshoot in a few hours, he was not amused that there was no one there. He was expecting a team there to greet them, or staff bustling around almost tripping over themselves to get supplies. Ness was the first to state Kaiser's thoughts out loud, and at that moment, you appeared behind the corner.

Kaiser could tell you was a no–nonsense person off the bat. You were dressed in your jorts and oversized jersey shirt, a staple of casual streetwear. Your nails were heavily designed, adorned with gems and charms that clinked with everything you touched. Your hair was like a map of constellations, each parted into the shape of a star, coiled into tight bantu knots – each twist gleaming under the unnatural white light.

When you introduced yourself as their stylist and makeup artist for the season, Kaiser sneered, asking you if you were doing this all on your own. It came out snobbish, almost degrading. The gum you were loudly chewing and popping in your mouth made his eye twitch. You arched your brow, staring at him over your dark shades. But you weren't phased by his attempt to jab at you, and bluntly confirmed that yes, you were doing it all on your own.

And maybe Kaiser prejudged you a little too hard, because for limited hours and a team of eleven players–you were three times more efficient than his German stylist team at home. You had started at twelve, and had everyone's makeup done by two o’clock, and by two–thirty, throwing clothes in his face at him to put on.

He doesn’t want to admit he was humming to the girly rappers on the mounted TV, or the fact he wanted to compliment you for getting the right shade for his red eyeliner. He had no weakness to poke at as you did your job well, and he didn’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed.

There's a confident vibe and aura you brung that made him curious about you.

You're leaning over him, subconsciously holding your breath, making sure his eyeliner is as straight as possible. Your face was screwed up with concentration, lips pursed and eyebrows knitted. His head draped back over the top of the chair, his prominent adam's apple bobbles with each swallow, and you could feel the blue tips of his hair ticking your forearm. He subtly breathes in your perfume, the orange blossom and trace of jasmine stapling itself to his memory.

Your eyes flickered up, noticing the slow curl of his lips, “You're quite efficient, Engelchen.” He murmured, his voice is soft despite its deepness, as if to not mess up your concentration.

You let out a faint hum in acknowledgement, “You learn in life that it’s better to take things in your own hands, that’s how you get things done more proficiently,”

Your words made him pause, and they sounded familiar in a way, similar to his own motto.

When you finally pulled the brush of the liner away, his blonde lashes fluttered to gaze up at you, his sapphire orbs glinted with an amused and self–righteous look, and you could feel your heart rate rapidly picking up, tensing under his stare.

“You couldn’t be more correct.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★

When you finally get together, even though he doesn’t admit it, he falls first and harder. He treats you like a delicacy, and it's hard to get annoyed with him when he’s all over you, cooing at you with his pretty accent and pretty face. It's not uncommon for you to fight, (honestly you feed off each other's toxicity) but it’s unpredictable who puts who in their place. Anyone who meets the both of you, they always say there's an oozing aura of arrogance and confidence that's nauseating. You're like dogs fighting for dominance half the time. By the two months mark of first meeting you, Kaiser had already kicked the bucket of his last stylist team just to implement you into his busy and strict routine. Before you began as his personal stylist though, there were many moments where you had to separate him and Isagi in the studio when they started bickering with each other, dragging Kaiser four chairs down so there would be no way to interact with Isagi.

･ﾟ★ Credits for dividers.ᐟ @aquazero, @vysleix, @unknown-till.

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bumblesimagines · 9 months ago

Text

Winner Takes It All

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Whether she can admit it or not, Rhaenyra has always been given everything she has come to desire. Except for one boy whose always been just out of reach. Envy and resentment rears its head when the boy becomes a man and marries their childhood friend.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, canon divergent/AU where Rhaenyra is crowned, minor suggestive/sexual content, alicent is finally happy but rhaenyra is not, uno reserve to my last love triangle ig

~~~

"Lord Jason is going to say something he believes is funny and Lady Ellisha will pretend to laugh behind her fan."

Rhaenyra watched with a wide, eager smile as Lord Jason spoke and laughed heartily, obviously finding whichever jest he made funnier than the lady standing before him. Lady Ellisha raised her feathery fan to cover the lower half of her face, her eyes crinkling as if she were smiling but her red-tinted lips remained turned downward.

"And now, she will excuse herself and he'll return to the other lords with the belief he's wooed her over."

Lady Ellisha curtsied and spoke to the lord with a polite smile before whirling around on her heel and walking away from the Lannister with an exasperated stare directed toward her giggling friends. Lord Jason smirked smugly, just as predicted, and strolled over to the small group of men consisting of his twin and other eligible bachelors making use of the celebrations to search for a wife. Rhaenyra laughed when he gestured in Lady Ellisha's direction and the other lords gave impressed nods.

"Truly, Rhaenyra, you will find all sorts of entertainment at these sorts of things." (Y/N) told her with a pleased chuckle, swirling a goblet full of wine while his keen eyes flickered around the room hosting a feast in honor of Prince Aemond's first nameday in search of other courtiers making fools of themselves. "The newly man-grown and widowed lords always offer the best sights. Lord Jason has irritated most of the ladies he's spoken to thus far. Rumors say the Westerlings may offer up their Johanna to him for a taste of that Lannister coin."

"Poor girl." Rhaenyra shook her head and clicked her tongue, searching the crowds for the young woman with a head of brown ringlets until she spotted her standing near the rest of her family. "Lord Jason is..."

"Something."

The two shared a laugh and buried their noses into their cups when the other courtiers glanced in their direction, giggling like children and nearly choking on the wine when they accidentally inhaled some. Rhaenyra coughed into her fist and wiped a droplet of wine off her nose, her lips outstretched into a wide smile that made her cheeks ache and flush when others gave them questioning looks. (Y/N) shook his head through snickers and dapped at his lips with his handkerchief, his eyes drifting away from her and locking elsewhere. Rhaenyra barely had to glance in the direction to know who had captured his attention when his smile and gaze turned to resemble a lovesick puppy.

Ever since the Freys had sent their son and heir to ward at King's Landing at the age of eight, his attention had been completely captured by Lady Alicent Hightower, even as the three of them grew and more ladies expressed their interest in becoming Lady of the Crossing. There'd been a time Rhaenyra had found his interest amusing, if not understandable, but when their trio became a duo, Rhaenyra found her heart fluttering each time they spent time together without the company of the newly made queen. Her amusement faded and twisted with bitterness when (Y/N)'s opinion of Alicent remained despite the glaring circumstances.

When his attention lingered on Alicent enough to gain a disapproving frown from Otto, Rhaenyra clamped her hand around his wrist and tugged on his arm with a forced smile. She dragged him through the crowd swiftly and out into the hallway where few courtiers lingered, gossiping away from prying ears and taking in the fresh night air. Rhaenyra dipped into the closest hallway before they could be spotted together by them and ushered back where they'd be under supervision, her unrelenting grip forcing him to follow her through the halls of the Keep until she found a lonesome hallway devoid of any courtiers and servants.

"Come now," Rhaenyra laughed breathily, spinning around to face him with twinkling eyes. "There are... other ways to find entertainment, are there not?"

His head cocked to the side and the smile she'd grown to love stretched across his face. "Certainly."

And despite his attention insistently lying elsewhere, she found joy when it focused solely on her. Especially when it involved her palms pressing into the rough, chilled wall with the skirts of her dark red dress pushed up around her hips and her dusted pink cheek brushing against the wall with each jerk of his hips; and whilst she knew despite the fact it was her skin he squeezed and her neck he kissed, the knowledge it was Alicent he likely thought about bitterly lingered in the back of her mind.

A hint of metallic landed on her tongue when she dug her teeth into her bottom lip when he pushed within her fully, his shaky breath fanning against her shoulder. She released a shuddered gasp, feeling the bumps on the wall imprinted in her reddened hands as she pulled them away to adjust her dress once he slipped out of her.

"You grow too emboldened these days, Nyra." He murmured, his hands working on straightening his clothes and ensuring nothing looked amiss.

"You never complain." Rhaenyra peered over her shoulder at him with a cheeky grin, her fingers brushing the strands of silver clinging to her forehead. She turned on her heel and leaned back against the wall, her chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths. "If it bothers you so," She continued, her tone threatening to shake with her words. "I'm certain Father would not be opposed to a marriage with House Frey."

His lips pressed together, the corners of his brows twitching downward into a furrow. "You know as much as anyone else that I do not desire marriage, Rhaenyra, not now. I enjoy the freedom of doing whatever I please with whomever I please."

Her jaw ticked. "Do you desire freedom or do you perhaps lie in waiting for Queen Alicent to desire you?" She questioned sharply, unable to contain to stop the flush of anger from passing over her. "She's the Queen now, (Y/N). She has duties to uphold for the sake of the Realm- Gods, she has children with my father! She will never look at you the way you desire."

"And what makes you believe I'll look at you in the way you desire, Rhaenyra? You promised this would remain as nothing more than ventures of youth, that we'd laugh about it when we grew old and gray. I.. I do not know what I feel for you but it compares little to what I feel for Alicent."

Rhaenyra's lips twisted up tightly and a watery glaze passed over her eyes that she furiously blinked away. "Why must it always be her?" She spat, grasping the skirts of her dress and storming down the hall despite his calls for her.

His fruitless hope had always been as pitying as Rhaenyra's but the Gods always proved to have their favorites.

Sleep oozed out of his system slowly, his senses beginning to pick up the faint bustle of city life and the whistling wind. His eyes parted, vision focusing first on the intricate designs of the pillow smushed against his cheek before noticing his wife sat up on the bed. He released a quiet, tired sigh and licked his chapped lips, sluggishly shifting around to lie on his back before he reached out to press his palm into her bare hip, fingers tenderly massaging the flesh there.

"What is it?" He asked, still drowsy as he battled the urge to flutter his eyes shut.

"Nothing, darling," Alicent slumped back into the mattress with a soft exhale, her auburn curls sprawling out around the pillow beneath her and her eyes flickering over the familiar stone ceiling. She crinkled her nose at the exhaustion still clinging to her body and lolled her head to the side to peer at her sleepy husband with a tender smile. "Good morrow."

"Good morrow." He responded with a yawn and scooted closer to her, her body naturally drawing closer to the warmth of his skin and the sweetness of his touch. His fingers grazed the side of her face, tucking back a frizzy curl and watching the way she leaned into his hand. "Sleep well?"

Alicent exhaled heavily, her bottom lip slightly jutting out. "With each passing moon, comfortability becomes fleeting."

With a thoughtful hum, (Y/N) carefully moved and leaned over her, lowering down to press fluttering kisses down her chin and jawline to her neck and collarbone. She chuckled softly and ran her hands over his arms, sighing delicately when he pressed a kiss in the valley of her sore chest. The rest of her body ached dully, her ankles and feet especially, but the soreness and exhaustion would eventually fade, they knew that well.

Perhaps a little more eagerly, he moved further down and a twinkle passed over his eyes as he kissed her protruding belly. (Y/N) pressed his lips against the skin right below her belly button and waited a few moments before their little one rewarded him with a swift kick, his eyes immediately crinkling with glee. "Be kind to your mother." He scolded half-heartedly, his palms pressing against the underside of her belly. "She'll need all the rest she can get to welcome you into this world."

She sighed again. "After this little one, I'm afraid I'll only be capable of producing one more. I grow weary of laboring."

"Two is a fine number of children, and they'll hardly be lonely with their other siblings." He nodded, pressing another kiss to the belly and pushing himself upward to lie at her side once more. His arms curled around her, her strands of hair tickling his cheek and jaw. "Speaking of their siblings, Rhaenyra will expect us to speak with her after we break our fasts. Aegon must find his place in court before she loses her patience with him."

"Mmm," Alicent's eyes fluttered shut and he chuckled. "Yes, yes... and there's the dual wedding for the twins and her boys as well as the discussion of who Aemond should wed; one of the Four Storms or a Lannister girl." She lifted a hand and rubbed the bridge of her nose, her eyes parting when he gently kissed her cheek. It oft' felt as if she remained as Queen rather than the future Lady of the Crossing with each letter and plea that reached them in the Riverlands.

"At the very least, you will have enough time to spend a day with Helaena and her children." Her husband reminded her lightly, taking her hand in his and brushing his lips over her knuckles.

She smiled. "Yes, you're right."

Once they began their morning, the servants glided into their temporary apartments to begin their duties of bringing them food and helping them dress. (Y/N) drew his attention away from adjusting one of the rings on his fingers to peer over his shoulder, his eyes dragging over the gown Alicent wore in the muted blue color typical of House Frey. The tone brought out the auburn of her hair, making the delicate curls the servants carefully styled more apparent. A smile graced his lips and he cut the distance across the room to kiss the top of her head.

Before he could speak, the doors to their bedchambers parted and a guard stepped inside. "Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, Your Grace, My Lord," The guard announced, dipping his head and waiting for Rhaenyra to step inside before he, along with the rest of the servants, swiftly stepped outside to allow them privacy.

It'd been exactly a year since either of them had laid eyes upon Rhaenyra; exactly a year since (Y/N) received Otto Hightower's begrudge blessing to wed Alicent without Rhaenyra's knowledge and announced his intentions before a council unaware of the tense stare he received throughout. The withering frown on her face when they departed for the Twins had been enough to keep him from visiting King's Landing, but with things having drastically improved between his wife and their old friend, he hardly wished to get in between their friendship.

"Alicent," Rhaenyra greeted softly, dropping her intertwined hands and approaching them with a gentle smile. Alicent rose from her chair with unsteady feet and clasped her hand over (Y/N)'s arm, using him as her support as she twisted around to face her friend. "How good it is to see you again." Rhaenyra took her hands into hers, her gaze dropping down to her bump and brows lifting. "And in... quite a state. I am.. so very pleased for you both."

"Ruling becomes you, Rhaenyra," Alicent told her warmly, her fingers squeezing around her friend's. "I look forward to a long and peaceful reign, and I certainly cannot wait to see what grandchildren the twins will bring forth once they marry the boys. I hear Prince Joffery has already been arranged to wed one of the Manderly girls. It is a blessing to see one's children experience the love of parenthood."

"Yes, well," Rhaenyra chuckled, brushing away a strand from her face and briefly meeting (Y/N)'s eyes. "Jace is all nerves right now. He desires everything to be absolutely perfect for the dual weddings. I cannot imagine how he will be once Baela falls with child."

Alicent laughed lightly and retracted her hands to curl them around (Y/N)'s arm, her head tilting up to gaze at him. "(Y/N) was quite nervous at the beginning, were you not, darling? Baela will grow to appreciate it as I did, I think. It feels nice to be taken care of, especially by one's husband."

In an attempt not to wince, (Y/N) offered Rhaenyra a smile instead. "How is the search for a husband, Rhaenyra? I'm certain the council has been urging you to wed for some time now. I hear you've had many suitors, Marq Ambrose and Jon Roxton among them. Mother believes a strong consort would do well for the Realm."

"I'm afraid most of the fine men have married and left the marriage mart looking rather bleak." Rhaenyra's tight smile made him bite his inner cheek. "I have little need for more children, regardless. I have named my heir and he will soon produce an heir of his own if the Gods are kind to us."

"I'm certain they will be," Alicent assured her, her eyes crinkled with fondness. "You should come with me to the Sept, Rhaenyra. We could pray to the Mother for the safe delivery of this babe and any future grandchildren we have."

"I'll certainly attempt to make time for it, but I believe your current grandchildren are eagerly expecting you." Rhaenyra reached out, running her palm over Alicent's arm and smiling sweetly.

With a gentle kiss to his cheek, Alicent bid her goodbye to Rhaenyra and strode past her, her once elegant and graceful walk now slow as she wobbled and kept close to the servants that quickly flocked to her side. (Y/N) watched her go, swallowing thickly when Rhaenyra flicked her hand and the guard shut the doors behind his wife. He turned his attention onto the new Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the very one whose hand he'd forced before the Small Council.

"Alicent is right, Rhaenyra. Ruling becomes you." He spoke quietly, ears picking up the quiet scoff that slipped past her lips. "I know we parted on... uncertain terms but-"

"Uncertain? Is that what you call it? You gave me little warning, little time to process! When my father died, I needed you by my side but you were too busy courting a freshly made widow to pay me an ounce of care." Rhaenyra sneered, her long braid and dark red dress swaying with her movements as she spun around on her heels. "Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys were there but they were more keen on ensuring the coronation progressed swiftly and my ascension to the throne went without trouble; I needed you... and you weren't there."

His teeth caught his lip, digging and lightly tugging at the skin. There was a semblance of guilt in his chest, an acknowledgment that he had indeed ignored his duties as a friend to seek out Alicent instead. But he'd been worried an ascension to the throne would mean a marriage proposal between him and Rhaenyra would only be eagerly accepted by his parents. He'd used all the fuss over the coronation and ascension to keep himself out of Rhaenyra's sights, they both knew that well.

"You have my apologies, Rhaenyra. I did believe you'd find comfort in your children and the Velaryons, however. I hoped you would, I swear it. I believed leaving you in their hands would have been better. Alicent had no one but scheming men and children grieving in their own ways-"

"Were you not a scheming man as well? How long did it take for you to realize no one would stand in the way? Before you crawled to her doorstep like a mutt." Rhaenyra questioned bitterly as she tilted her body to look upon him, the accusation lining her tone making his jaw clench.

"I did not seduce her or- or take advantage of a grieving woman, Rhaenyra. I offered her a shoulder to cry on, to release all she held onto these years. I asked for her hand in marriage, yes, but I asked her first before the thought of asking Otto Hightower crossed my mind. If she had rejected it, I would have left it at that, but she did not. She accepted my marriage proposal; she agreed to move to the Twins instead of remaining here; she desired to have a child."

"I would have done all those things if given the chance!"

(Y/N)'s eyes squeezed shut as her voice ricocheted off the walls of the apartments and likely spilled out into the hallway for anyone passing by to hear. He heard her quiet pants, the muffled chatter outside the walls, the orders from the courtyards drifting with the wind. He parted his eyes to look at her when she moved, the ends of her dress grazing the floor until she stopped before him. Her fingers flexed with uncertainty before reaching out to brush over his hands.

"I waited." She said quietly, voice barely audible. "When Laenor died, I waited.. for a crow, a messenger, your presence.. I waited for you to return from the Riverlands and instead... you paid your respects and left it there. You did everything I desired from you.. but with Alicent. Why couldn't have it been me? What could she have possibly given you that I could not? You could have become King Consort! Your firstborn would have been a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms-"

"I am not Daemon, Rhaenyra, I do not care for what riches or victories one provides. Alicent is... Alicent is sunshine on a cool midday.. she is a cup of warm tea by the fireplace during the cruelest of winters.. she is a plate of freshly baked sweets or- or a tender embrace on a somber day. Rhaenyra, you are the lashing wind during a storm and waves bashing into rocks on a cliff. You are fun and exciting but I prefer calm over chaos. She is the calm to my chaos."

Rhaenyra stared at him silently, her violet eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "I am not a child anymore." She whispered shakily.

"You are Queen Rhaenyra of Westeros and mother to three excellent young men." His hand raised and pressed against her cheek. "And I will soon be Lord of the Crossing and father to the little one my wife is currently carrying. If I had desired to be King Consort or simply desired to be your husband, I would have pursued it years ago. It is best we leave this in the past, Rhaenyra. Nothing will come from it now."

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kiame-sama · 2 months ago

Note

Which of the Monster men would be the definition of ‘We’re pregnant’ if the Human gets pregnant?

Or even funnier, they’re the ones who act like they’re pregnant while the Human is just fine (Only confused about their behavior)

Warnings: reader pregnancy, Humans Are Extinct Yandere TWST au, yandere, yandere relationships, yanderes stressing out, monster au, yandere monsters, mention of oviposition (for the egg bearing species), adult themes, by selecting 'view more' you consent to view content and are of age to view content

~~~~

Azul is STRESSED while you are pregnant. He struggles to sleep the entire time and he becomes extremely wound with anxieties. While his eggs take up residence in your body, he doesn't want you lifting a finger. He will do everything in his power to take on your responsibilities and take care of you. He even gets occasional bouts of illness akin to morning sickness because of how stressed he is.

Even when you actually safely deliver the eggs, Azul is stressed. He wants you on bed rest for no less than six months. You will have to convince him to let you loose or he will be shepherding you back to your room the entire six months. He is counting, recounting, and double checking the tank where he keeps the eggs while they grow. Every few hours he has to count again and he will panic if he believes one is missing. Seeing his little ones develop in their pearl-like eggs gives him such pride and such anxiety.

Vil is stressed and controlling about the few things he can control while you are pregnant with his eggs. He is ordering the most expensive and softest of bedding, turning his plush bed into a literal nest with blankets layered around the edges with pillows. The center is countless thick blankets that sinks a good level beneath the raised edges and is incredibly soft. Where Vil is no expert nest builder, he does make an impressive incubation site. He is ensuring EVERYTHING is prepared and planned for in every regard so that you and his eggs are safe.

Harpies commonly share parental duties once the eggs arrive, and Vil is no different. He is incubating them and fiercely protective. So long as he has eggs, he is guarding them fiercely and hostile to everyone except his mate. He is constantly turning them, listening for any signs of movement, candling them to see how developed they are, and ensuring they stay warm. Vil is more stressed about the eggs than you are and he will ensure you also incubate them with him.

He is going through each and every emotional disruption with you because he is magically linked to his growing child in your body. Genies can procreate with every gender and sex, even without actually having sex. Genie infants- as they are developing- require intensive magic input from their Genie parent and are quite literally telepathically linked to their Genie parent. They are a literal accumulation of their Genie parent's magic in physical form.

Kalim knows your cravings before you do and will have food ready the moment you actually register you are craving something. He is also in synch with your mood swings because of his connection to his infant in your body. Every teary moment, every bout of anger, every elated emotion, all of it is felt and shared with Kalim. He actually gets morning sickness where you don't even slightly endure morning sickness. He will even know when the infant is moving around and will wince if they thrash their limbs inside of you. The actual birth is also a shared experience as Kalim will endure the lion's share of your birthing pains.

Riddle is in absolute and genuine agony when it come time to deliver the foal. You will have to have a C-section and Riddle will be an inconsolable mess the entire time. He is pacing, snorting, clacking his hooves, and ill tempered the entire time he is stuck away from your side. Holding his precious little Foal is going to make him break down in sobs as he is overcome with joy. He will take care of you and your Foal while insisting you rest for at least a full year. He is determined to keep you both safe.

Riddle is INSUFFERABLE while you are pregnant. His heart is in the right place, but you are likely to snap at him more than normal given his arm-chair parenting and matter-of-fact behavior. He is trying to plan your every meal and activity down to the last detail, so you will have to have a talk with him. He does it due to his anxiety and fear of not being a good father, but it is mainly to cover up his absolute and blinding anxiety. He is trying to control what he can to avoid thinking about what he can't control .

Malleus is the most ornery, ill-tempered, over-protective, territorial, and downright hostile Dragon while you are pregnant. Towards you, he is sweet, gentle, soft-spoken, compliant, indulging, and patient. Towards everyone else he is awful, though towards his Hoard (Lilia, Sebek, Silver, Maleficent, and Malefica) he is a lesser degree of ill-tempered but still noticeably shorter tempered. Anyone trying to get close to you will be met by a furious Malleus who hisses and rages until you are left alone again. Only medical professionals are tuly allowed near and even then Malleus has to be present the entire time.

Walking? I think not! Malleus will willingly be in his Dragon form to ferry you around. Very few are stupid enough to challenge a Dragon and even fewer would be so bold as to try and take a Dragon's heavily pregnant mate. Even after you deliver his eggs into existence, Malleus is an over-protective and territorial wreck. This is on top of the fact that the eggs hatch almost instantly due to the overwhelming outpouring of love and joy around them. They are squealing and longing to be held while Malleus is short-circuiting from more than doubling his Living Hoard in moments as his infant Dragons hatch in record time.

#kiame-sama #humans are extinct twst au #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #monster au #yandere monster

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specialgradefckr · 1 year ago

Text

Heatwave: Day 2

tw: explicit content. 5k+ words. yuta/reader. female!alpha!reader, alpha!yuta, reader has a knot but also a vag. very barely dubcon, masturbation, fingering. mostly lots of pining. also light curse!rika/reader, but no monsterfucking (yet. curse!rika would 1000% hit it tho)

listen... it's not very smutty but read the fic. just read the fic. you're a tsundere and yuta and his curse girlfriend are smitten with you. it's really cute i promise.

Prompt: An Alpha finds themselves exhibiting omega traits in front of a stronger alpha.

Female alphas were less common than male ones, but they were common enough for there to be stereotypes about them.

Scary girls. Big girls. Strong independent women who didn’t need no men, ate pretty omega boys for breakfast.

There was a certain type of alpha – exclusively male, sometimes beta men were like this too – that saw a kind of challenge to it.

These sorts of dudes were obsessed with ‘alpha pussy’, swore it was tighter and hotter than any omega hole ever could be.

Never mind that there were some omegas who couldn’t take large knots without training, and anyone who wasn’t an omega needed a lot of practice before trying to take any knot at all.

It wasn’t about realism with these assholes. It was some weird, self-fellating bullshit about having made another alpha their bitch, being the alpha to another alpha.

Asshole alphas, that’s a good way to put it. A bunch of fuckwads who thought only with their knots and their egos.

Each and every one of them thought they were god’s gift to creation because they were alphas, born special and better than everyone else, all that garbage.

Yuta isn’t an asshole, but he is, shockingly enough, an alpha.

He’s a nice boy – maybe the nicest alpha you’ve ever met.

Makes it all the funnier that you get paired up with him on missions so often; the scary alpha girl and the gentle alpha boy.

You’d doubt his identity, too, if you didn’t know better. But you can smell it on him all the same. Unmistakable. Alpha.

And he’s strong, really strong, probably stronger than you, though the thought rankles.

Special grade, you’d heard – mostly because of the cursed spirit that hangs out with him.

But it’s not the spirit you smell when you sneak a discreet whiff of the scarf he’d left on the bench this one time. It’s an alpha, through and through.

It’s not the spirit that darts into the field on missions before you can, places himself between you and danger without even thinking about it.

Carves destruction with a graceful, brutal blade and then turns back to you with a sheepish smile asking if you’re all right.

He’s so… gentle. Careful. You’re not even sure he can get angry.

The closest you’d ever seen him to it was when a curse popped up behind you on a mission, while he was occupied with a special grade of his own on the other side of the room.

You’d seen a barrier appear in an instant, which must have been his domain expansion, and only a few seconds later the curse he’d been fighting was gone and the curse that ambushed you was impaled on his blade.

Even with blood on his face, he’d smiled at you.

Eyes shut, voice warm with sincerity, but the air was filled with a tense note of danger, barely constrained threat… just not towards you.

Somehow, you want to see more.

Prodding at Yuta Okkotsu is no easy task.

He’s about the most mild-mannered person you’ve ever met, and half-terrified that someone mistreating him would get on the bad side of the cursed spirit who hangs around him.

But you’re determined, and there’s not a lot that can stop you when you put your mind to it.

Alphas had a personal bubble – just like everyone else – and when another alpha gets into it, it usually sets them off.

You start to invade Yuta’s space; first, in small ways.

Leaning in when you hand him a soda, sitting a touch too close on a bench, lingering whenever one of you pins the other during sparring.

There’s a flush on his darling face, a tightening of his features as you see him catch your scent and react to your proximity before he represses the reaction completely.

But soon enough, that doesn’t phase him at all.

You've gotta hand it to him. That's some real control.

Soon he’s touching your hand when you pass him things, you can lean against him while you sit next to each other and he doesn’t bat an eye.

Neither does that supposedly scary curse of his, for that matter.

You see her, once, on a mission. A curse sneaking up behind you (it wouldn’t have been able to hurt you anyways) and you catch her, the curse Yuta normally keeps so carefully hidden.

Massive. Magnificent.

It’s not something you’d normally say about a curse but Rika comes with a scent all her own, fresh and woodsy pine, pricking at your senses while a gaping maw of sharp teeth closes around some pitiful lesser creature.

The blood splatters, on the floor, on her ‘face’. She has no eyes you can see, but you feel her gaze on you anyways. Heavy in the midst of the silence, until Yuta’s panicked voice rings out, and she disappears completely.

Pine lingers in your senses.

That’s not what Yuta smells like, though.

He smells so little, actually, so heavily repressed that you’re not surprised most people think he’s a beta. But your senses are better than most, and you can detect it.

Faint. Warm. Almost… oily? Like olive oil, maybe, something humble and smooth, but unexpectedly decadent.

Like the scent of a lone burning candle in an old shrine, not quite dusty, but with a book-like scent that came with ink and paper.

It’s hard to detect. You need to get closer to really pin it down.

Yuta’s physical abilities are weak, after all, so it’s easy to make up excuses to spar with him. More and more, since you can tell he’s no longer uncomfortable with you in his space.

One fine winter morning, you catch the opportunity you want.

A tumble on the ground (he was always so afraid of Rika coming out, but she never did when he fought you), a little scuffle that leaves the adorable gentleman alpha flushed and flustered, and you manage to snag his scarf off of him.

In the pocket of his jacket you leave him something in return; a band not quite large enough to be a scarf that you’d used to tie your hair.

It should have plenty of your scent on it, enough to make him sniff the air once or twice before he figured out it was there.

The thought pleases you. Like you can tease him a little bit at some random moment throughout the day, without even being there.

It’s five whole days before Yuta returns it to you.

His face a touch bashful, even though he must have known full well that you’d slipped it into his coat yourself. Eyes downcast, as if afraid to meet yours; Yuta Okkotsu, the special-grade terror.

He doesn’t ever ask for the scarf back.

Not that you remember it. It’s just sitting on your desk. You barely think about it.

It just happens that it still has his scent on it, but that makes sense.

It would have been in contact with his scent glands every day, wrapped around his neck like a collar. Like a warm embrace.

You don’t touch it, so it still smells like him. Warm and welcoming.

He’s really not much of an alpha.

After you spar, he always compliments you, careful to note any potential weaknesses between bits of lavish praise. His shadowed, dark eyes sparkle a touch when he tells you, a warm smile on his lips.

Yuta’s always doing that, complimenting people. You’ve never known him to disparage anyone. Never a bad word for a single person you’d met.

So kind. What kind of alpha is this sweet?

Somewhere deep down, though, you know. A real leader, someone people trust and rely on, a friend who would cross oceans for you, move mountains, if it would help you out even a little.

Sweet boy, like cotton candy. Comforting like a warm candle on a cold winter night.

So bright even thought Yuta looks like the gloomiest boy alive. Sometimes when you think of him your tongue runs over your lips, like you’re hungry for more.

You push him further.

You don’t avoid him when you’re close to your rut. In fact you make a point to be near him, get into his space.

Sure, you’d invaded it plenty now, but with your scent oozing out of you, pheromones heavy in the air screaming breed, breed, breed, and you figure something in Yuta will crack.

You never stop to think about whether or not you want it to.

It’s on a nice, sunny day that it happens. The most embarrassing moment of your entire existence.

Pre-rut is a bit brutal but you’re down to tough it out. Sparring with Yuta always helps, anyways.

You’re especially snarky, too, like you get during your rut, eager to taunt, to get more out of him.

“C’mon Yuta, that’s not all you’ve got, right? Ask your curse girlfriend for help, I’ll bet she knows how to lay it out.” Adrenaline fuels your heated banter as you watch Yuta pointedly avert his gaze, “You’re flinching and I’m barely hitting you.”

“I can do it,” He almost grumbles, but you think you see a shadow behind him, or maybe you just imagine it, lurking and eager to jump out, “And she woul- Rika is strong.”

The hormones are bad, though. Getting your body heavy with sweat and panting, moving around, lashing out at him, striking, grappling…

“That’s more like it!”

“You can take this much? Then - I’ll do even more!”

Who the fuck are you kidding. It’s the most fun you’ve had in weeks.

Yuta’s strong, stronger than almost anyone you know, he’s right in front of you, so close you can smell you can touch you get your hands on him and he on you and you’re rolling, rolling through the grass –

Yuta pins you, heavy breaths breezing over you, carrying the warm rich smell of him in your senses.

Sweat dripping down his forehead, mouth wide open, you can almost taste it (taste what?).

His eyes are dark and deep and beautiful and they look down at you like –

He’s looking at you like –

His lips curl upwards into the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, your heart skips ten beats and you – you just feel so warm –

underneath him – the comforting weight of his body against yours – that delectable smell dripping over you – his arms around you, holding you –

You cough out a noise you think is a laugh. Yuta tilts his head to the side with fondness written all over his face.

“That was a pretty heavy bout – good job!” He beams down at you, voice is full of praise pouring over you like liquid gold, “Are you alright?”

You open your mouth to tell him you are, and to your horror, you realize the noise you make. You’re purring.

Instantly your face is set on fire.

“I.” oh god. What. What the fuck, “I’m…” Your voice breaks in a rumble.

Oh god this is so weird, alphas don’t purr at other alphas, what’s wrong with you – “Yeah! Fine!”

You say it too loudly and it shows. Yuta’s so close to you there’s no way he can’t tell what’s happening.

Even otherwise, your voice is cracking like some kind of hormonal teenage boy and you just.

Evacuate. Evacuate immediately.

Your hands fly up to Yuta’s chest and you try desperately not to notice how surprisingly well-built he is as you shove him up and off you.

He offers no resistance, stepping up and offering you a hand which you ignore in favor of sprinting off, like a guilty person would do.

Seriously? Seriously? This would go down in history as the day your dignity died.

Where was your pride as an alpha? Where was your – your anything, to be honest.

Why the fuck had you just?? Gone so completely gooey and melty underneath him when he smiled at you like that?

Even thinking back on it heats your face. Then again, the whole thing was super embarrassing, so your face was hot anyways.

It occurs to you, walking back to your room in great shame, that you weren’t actually worried about anyone finding out about this, just that it had happened.

Alphas don’t usually purr unless they’ve just knotted someone and they want them to feel good.

And omegas would typically only purr at close family members or intended mates; a lazy sign of comfort and peace, and very occasionally, a come-hither-I’m-feeling-frisky signal to their alpha.

Whatever conclusion could be made about you purring at Yuta from underneath him… there was no option that wasn’t utterly humiliating.

But you only had to worry about what Yuta would think.

You knew Yuta wouldn’t breathe a word about this. Probably not even if someone held a knife to his throat (not that they could… special grade and all).

…you start to feel kinda bad now, actually.

No matter how you’d poked or prodded, Yuta Okkotsu hadn’t snapped at you.

Unflinching in his kindness. Eager to help always, with a hand or some friendly advice. Protective and powerful, never hesitating to put himself between you and danger.

You’d been inching into his space. Stealing his things. Taunting him during practice.

Honestly, if someone else acted like this to you, you’d call them a pest. You wouldn’t smile at them. Not like that.

Yuta must’ve been some kind of saint in a past life, if nothing you’ve done bothers him at all.

It’s weird. It’s all weird. Alphas aren’t like this, neither of you should be like this.

It gets worse. It all gets worse, so much worse.

Your rut is in full swing now, burning through you, searing holes in every ounce of sanity you ever thought you had. Nothing is sacred anymore, nothing is off-limits. There’s no shame left and no restraint.

The most heinous ideas flit through your mind, little flashes, lewd imagery of holes to fuck into and knots to squeeze, the tight press of flesh on flesh and dark eyes and lips that curve so gently upwards.

A scent that flutters just at the edge of your senses like the well-worn pages of familiar book.

The best you can do is stop yourself from crying out. The images get clearer, until there’s no denying what they are.

Yuta, on his hands and knees.

All spread apart.

Above you.

Below.

Smiling gently. Whispering words into your ear.

His lean form, the sleek musculature you know from so many fits of sparring, finally bared for you to feast your eyes. “Do you like it, alpha?”

Yes. Yes yes yes yes. Every fiber of your being cries out. The throbbing between your legs is unbearable.

“Do you want it?”

Never wanted anything more.

“You’re such a good alpha. I’m glad.”

Just the thought of the words, in his voice, draws a moan from your lips.

You want him. Want want want want WANT you NEED him where is he where can you find him? You’re going to hunt him down and –

The last remaining threads of your sanity grant you a burst of intuition.

A detail you’d never really forgotten:

The scarf on your desk. The one you hadn’t touched, hadn’t made smell like you. It should still smell like him.

Wait. Wait. What are you, some omega jerking off to the scent of your fucking crush –

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Crush. Okkotsu.

But you can’t get yourself to think about how that’s wrong, can’t convince yourself to deny anything when a pulsing, throbbing sensation between your legs screams mate mate my mate all mine –

Stumbling, staggering, all the way to the desk. Arm reaching out while you’re bent over and panting and nearly whining in your need.

Fuck. Pathetic, so pathetic.

And then you hold the scarf to your face, clutched in your hand like a lifeline. The scent of it is faint and inexplicably cozy, pure relief flooding through you.

It brings you to your knees. The ache between your legs demands attention and your other hand rushes to meet it, jerking and rubbing against your sexes while you sniffle and tear up.

Ruts suck when you spend them alone but this is better and worse than anything you’d ever experienced.

Bucking up into your hands, breathing in his scent like you can fill him in your lungs, inhale him like a cigarette and finally get rid of the pounding demand in your brain.

Every breath feels shallow, every grind against your hand only seems to make you hotter and hotter.

The ache in your core feels like being tugged around, demanding jerks of painful pleasure that don’t get you there, don’t get you what you need.

It’s all you can do to whimper and nuzzle into his scarf.

The primitive side of you urges you to pull it between your legs leg him take care of you, good mate, good alpha, let him feel you there, but your arm locks in place so you can keep breathing the scent like a lifeline.

When you finally do cum, you’re more exhausted than anything, spurting pitifully out over your hands and knees, knot bulging uselessly against your lower belly.

It leaks, slowly, painfully, as if to give you time to think about what you’ve done.

You decide you’d really rather not. Sliding a drawer open to pull out a toy, another toy, three of them, even – enough to overstimulate yourself to high hell, to keep every thought of Yuta and his scent out of your brain.

A vibrator in any hole you could fit it in, against anything that throbbed or ached. A fleshlight to fuck into, one a size too small just to make it hurt more.

Way less lubricant than you could have used, but somehow, your cunt leaks more than enough for all of it.

All to just barely stop the fantasies of a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy with a smile and a scent like the sun.

Without a doubt it’s the most miserable rut you’ve ever had.

You’re raw, red, and sore by the end of it and all you can feel is barely concealed rage at your own self for putting you through this shit.

You don’t even know if you’re mad that you fucked up, or that you’re crushing this fucking hard on a really nice dude you’ve been antagonizing for weeks.

As soon as your rut ends, you steal another one of Yuta’s scarves.

You don’t give him anything in return this time.

Yuta likes women; this is something he’s known for a while.

It’s not until recently that he’s come to terms with the fact that he exclusively likes alpha women. He has you and Maki to thank for that.

In retrospect, considering his first love was a strong-willed young girl who proposed to him, it should probably have been more obvious.

Lucky for him, Rika also has a taste for alpha women, and she likes you much better than she liked Maki.

To be perfectly honest, it was Rika who liked you first.

The Rika he knew had passed on. The Rika beside him now is a curse that grew alongside him; in the image of his loved one, distorted and massive in all its malevolent glory.

She listened to him, for the most part, but perhaps because of some baser instincts of his – or perhaps some left-over preferences from Rika herself – she treats you with a particular affection.

You offer him a drink, moving just a touch too close to hand it over, and he feels Rika hum in approval.

His eyes glance over you unwillingly, your scent faint in his nose. It’s not as harsh as another alpha’s scent normally would be, either, which should have been his first warning.

Whenever you get close – too close, so much that it has to be on purpose – it’s almost overwhelming, so many emotions fluttering through him that he swears he can hear Rika giggling.

She likes it, too. You’re like fresh soil, like morning dew, the rainfall on a summer’s day.

He can tell, after one day he catches you right before your rut, wrestling with him, pinned underneath him and purring; you like him, too.

And then, he fucks it all up.

“Hey,” He calls you out by name and you turn back, meeting his eyes and walking back up to him.

The immediate response causes something dark and warm to burst in his chest; Rika purrs invisibly in his mind.

You try not to show it but you’re pleased when he calls out to you. He can smell it on you, happy pheromones that let him know you’re pleased he’s asked for you.

Not unlike an omega, and that thought really sets him going.

All this time you spent playing coy. Teasing him then running away, even from your own feelings.

You want him so bad but you’re so nervous, and seeing someone so strong and beautiful be so anxious about your want for him drives him completely and utterly insane.

It’s not like you’re cowardly, like he could be, sometimes.

You’re strong, you always give him a fight when you spar, you take the losses like a champ –

You would take his knot so so well RIKA PLEASE STOP THAT RIGHT NOW.

Now you’re staring at him, blushing like a schoolgirl, waiting for him to speak to you. So cute. So cute.

He’d caught you stealing his scarf again, you never gave any of it back. Are you building a nest? Do you like his scent like he likes yours?

Licking his lips, Yuta asks, “You’re – you’re an alpha, right?”

Oh. Oh, he should not have said that.

The surprise that flits across your face, and then the outrage, they tell him the same thing –

But his body receives a very different message, cock jumping in his pants at the scent.

All those times you’d sparred with him had trained him to get hard when you got in his space like this. Your scent wasn’t a threat, but a delicacy, and in his chest a rumble stuttered along with Rika.

“What the fuck are you trying to say, Okkotsu?”

Oh. Family name. You were really mad.

He could tell his face had already fallen by how you looked torn between pity and anger.

An apology lurched to stutter out through his lips, but instead –

Instead –

On the tip of his tongue, the edge of his senses –

“Are you… wet?” It sounds like a question, but that’s sheer politeness on his part.

He can smell it on betas as well as omegas, so it made sense that he could smell it on a female alpha, too.

Your face is hot, bright red, and so, so darling.

He can tell Rika is as thrilled to see it as he is, that she longs to reach out with one of her massive claws and clutch around your shapely waist, hold you in place for him to –

“What the fuck? Okkotsu?!”

Oh no. No no no no no no no. No! “Rika! Rika, don’t hurt her!”

She’s not hurting you. She would never hurt you.

This is probably worse.

“Hurt me? Fucking – ff – hng,” Yuta can’t stop the lurch in his gut, the wave of pure arousal that washes over him at the sound you make, “Get her off me, Okkotsu, you – ”

Your face is so red. Your scent. Your scent. It’s perfuse, a strong, tangy thing, delicious, he’d grown addicted to it and wasn’t that your fault?

Didn’t you do this to him, on purpose? Don’t you want him like this?

Slipping him little tastes here and there, shoving it in his face all the time.

Passing him a sample while you sneakily stole his scarf, hoarding his scent like a needy little omega?

Teasing him, getting in his face while you were in rut?

Purring at him when he pinned you underneath him?

Flushing when he called out to you, looking back, running up to him eagerly like an obedient, darling thing?

Yuta thought he liked alpha women, and he does.

But it looks like he especially likes alpha women who go all soft and squishy for him without saying as much, squirming and blustering and making faces like they’d like to eat him as soon as they thought he wasn’t looking.

“Don’t be upset.” His hands roam down to your sides. He doesn’t miss how you jerk at the contact. “I asked so I could help. Are you wet?” He says your name, a dark fire in his eyes.

You watch his tongue dark between his lips. Bite back a whimper. “Help me how? What’s – what’s she doing?”

“Helping me help you.” If you don’t want to tell, he’ll just check for himself.

His hands are cold, though, and you can’t stop the high gasp that escapes you when his hands dig under your waistband.

He murmurs a soft apology and the curse behind you chitters, chilled claws carefully wrapped around your torso.

Yuta drags your shorts and panties down in one motion, cooing softly at you when you shriek, one hand caressing your shoulder while Rika purrs, pressing herself up against your back.

Filling your senses with pine and Yuta’s oil, a scent like fire that burns to behold.

Warms you like sunlight.

“Yuta-” Even you weren’t sure what you were going to say, but his fingers between your legs send your brain for a complete loop. “I – what are you – we’re in – ”

“I put up a veil,” Yuta says, like (he knows) that was your only real objection.

Or maybe he’s lying. Yuta could tell you he was wearing Ryomen Sukuna’s underwear and you’d believe him, as long as he looked at you like that.

The smile you love so much is hungry, now, with those eyes dark with desire, with a curse clawing at you tenderly, like she just can’t let you go for even a second. Churning pleased little noises with every press and flex of her massive fingers around you.

Fingers darting to spread open your folds, even as you squirm. Bared in broad daylight with Yuta right in front of you.

Circling your hole while he looks you in the eyes, pressed close enough to hear you whine.

“I knew you were wet,” He murmurs, in a soft voice that sends liquid heat dripping down your legs, “Could smell it.”

Yuta leans in. He’s so pretty, so handsome, such a dark and darling thing with those heavy, soulful eyes.

He’s so close that when he whispers your name, you feel it on your lips. “You smell so good.”

He didn’t sound this hot even in your daydreams. He’s so close. So close. His breath ghosts over you like a curse hanging on your shoulder.

Your mouth falls open. Watering, like your cunt. Desperate for a taste.

And maybe you’re still an alpha after all, because finally, finally, you dive in and take what you want.

He tastes as rich on your lips as he’s smelled, soft and oiled and coating your senses. Blotting out everything until all you know is him.

Him, teasing over your clit with careful strokes. Growling into the kiss like he’s warning you not to pull back, Rika pressing you forward like you’re two dolls she can’t wait to smash together.

Arms dart out to his shoulders to steady yourself as he dips his fingertips into your entrance. Generous, broad strokes over your folds he spreads your arousal all over, returning to rub at your clit as he pulls away.

It’s good. So good. The oncoming pleasure builds and builds slowly with his ministrations, pooling heavily in your lower half. The urge to buck into it overtakes you, writhing for more friction as sparks begin to fly against your clit, closer, closer –

And then it’s you who can’t look away, locked in place under his gaze. “You’re going to cum for me? Do you want to?”

God it’s so fucking close, tears blot your eyes as you jerk into his fingers, and Yuta doesn’t even try to deny you.

He smiles at you, carefree. He already has his prey in front of him, unable to escape, uninterested in even trying.

You give him a feverish nod. “Will you tell me so? I want to hear you.”

Just a little faster, just a little more, more, “More please, please, make me cum –”

An exhale of a breath you hadn’t known he was holding, diving in towards your neck, nuzzling against your scent. Burying your face in his shoulder where his own was strongest.

It’s that breath that puts you over the edge, fast strokes of his fingers finally igniting the heavy pleasure pent up in your lower belly, the scent of him pouring over you.

You cum with a cry, mouthing at his neck just to soothe yourself, to taste him.

You feel the wetness of his tongue on your own scent glands. Hot. Drooling. He suckles at your taste, soft lips pressed to bare, vulnerable skin, and you let your head roll to the side to give him more.

All you can feel now is warmth. Warmth and Yuta’s familiar scent that makes your insides twist, the aftershocks still shuddering through you, twitching in his hold like some pitiful creature.

Every muscle in your body relaxes, and it’s only Rika’s grasp on you keeping you up. Fortunately, she’s strong. So strong.

Her head nestles into your shoulder, scenting you. Sweet, chilling pine on your sweaty skin. She purrs you through the bliss, cool against your body caught against Yuta’s own.

There’s a hilariously awkward moment where the two of you start catching your breath. Yuta looks flushed, handsome, as lovely as ever.

Still, his eyes find yours. He smiles. He’s always smiling at you, you’ve started to realize.

The thought makes you happy.

You like it. You like it a lot. Like him.

He’s even better than the fantasies.

“I’m going into rut,” Yuta says. “Because of… this.”

You swallow. “Oh. Okay.”

It’s hard to think too much about it, when the heat in your core is still dissipating, face burning up while you have yet to regain control of your limps

And between the two of you, Yuta must be the real alpha, because he’s the one who goes and just says it already.

“Will you spend it with me?”

“Your… your rut?”

“Yes. I want you to spend it with me.” He’s so close. You can feel the heat of his breath between you. "If you want."

A pause. You try, oh lord, do you try, to gather your thoughts for just one moment. “Are you going to try and mark me?”

“Can I?” His eyes are too light, too eager, the words too quick to fall from his lips.

Alphas don’t ask for permission like puppies begging for treats. But Yuta, your Yuta, he’s already pleading with his eyes.

“Maybe you should be more worried about me marking you.”

“Would you?” Barely contained excitement oozes from him, from his pheromones to his bright expression.

You think you hear Rika giggle behind you. Pleased. Razor teeth ghosting over your ear in a little kiss, as if to urge you forth.

It’s working. If you fuck this boy, you’re gonna bite him.

You’re going to sink your teeth into him the first chance you get, make him yours yours all yours forever and have him every way he can bend, mark him up until he fucks you back into submission.

You’ll fuck him and fuck his curse girlfriend, too.

But it would be weird to just say it, right?

“Maybe.”

He laughs at that.

Oh. Yuta’s always been pretty good at reading between the lines, hasn’t he?

Or, you think as he leans in for a kiss, forehead pressed to yours – maybe he was just good at reading you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #yuta okkotsu #yuta x reader #yuta x you #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #omegaverse #alpha!reader #alpha!yuta #alpha x alpha #this is fluffier than you think #you're kinda tsundere it's really cute actually #mutual pining #i liked writing the banter/interactions more than i liked writing the smut actually. does it show?#rika x reader #yuta smut #yuuta smut

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