#I know which will win but I’m hoping my followers have good taste and will prove me wrong | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aemondapologistfrfr · 4 months ago

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Silk Ribbons

maegor x niece!reader

Summary: Maegor crashes Aenys name day tournament which turns into more blood. He shows up unannounced to the feast where he gives all of his attention to Y/n before taking her back to Dragonstone.

Warnings: 18+ death, blood, blades, swearing, wine, bondage, oral (f receiving), p in v, it’s a maegor the cruel fic like wtf else can i say

Authors Note: this was a request from my bestie 🫣😮‍💨, pls i’ve never really read maegor ff so i hope i did him justice

Word Count: 4.2k

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Servants rush around the Red Keep trying to get everything in order for the feast being held later this evening in celebration of my father’s name day. I’m whisked out of the castle followed by guards who escort me to my carriage. There’s three raps on the wood before we jolt forward venturing into the city.

My father insisted I come to the tourney even though I personally have no taste for it. Instead, I would have been content to host a great ball that lasted days. I sigh and look out the window watching the common folk slowly make their way to the tourney grounds. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what all these people see in such brazen acts of violence, and in the name of my father of all people.

The carriage slows as we push through the tourney grounds opening gates. We come to a stop near the entrance and my door opens. My guard escorts me through the doors and up the stairs to find my seat.

“Come, you’ll sit in front of me and your father.” my mother waves her hand to me.

I sigh as I make my way to the front row of chairs. I know these are the best seats but I have no idea why my parents would think I would want them. I look across the arena and see the seats quickly filling up. My father pats my shoulder on his arrival as he places his hands on the rails to begin making the opening announcement.

“Welcome and thank you all for joining the celebrations for my name day. Good luck to the brave knights, may you fight and win with honor!” my fathers raises his hands and the crowd begins to erupt.

As my father makes his way back to my mother the first two knights are called to the sands. After I hear him sigh and take his seat I allow myself to look off into the clouds and daydream. I lean back in my chair and to anyone else I look as if I’m enjoying the fight but instead I’m dreaming of flying through the clouds on dragonback.

The duels continue as I let my mind drift away. The clashes of swords are turned into dragon songs and the shouts form commands. The announcer calls two new knights to the sands and the crowd goes hushed as a third knight enters the sands.

“Is he mad for coming here?” my fathers voice breaks through as he speaks to his guard.

I shake my head and scan the sands in front of me. The only thing that seems to be happening is the announcer speaking to the third knight. I tilt my head studying them as my father hushes his quick words to the guard. I gasp and grab my chest as the knight strikes the announcer in the face, who falls to the sand not getting up. Guards rush to the announcer as the knight stalks over to us.

“Brother,” the knights deep voice carries up to us. “I will have a place at this tournament.” he points his sword up to the box.

“Go back to Dragonstone, Maegor.” my father calls down to him.

I scoot up to the edge of my seat to try and look upon my uncle. I haven’t seen him in ages but it seems if his temperament hasn’t changed. I lean forward and peek over the rails at him as he rips his helmet off and throws it up at my father. My father ducks barely escaping the flying metal but trips over me in the process.

“Guards, get Y/n out of here.” my father fumes as he rises once more.

I’m pulled up by my arms and I quickly turn to look down at Maegor before they hide me away. Our eyes lock on one another quickly before the guard harshly pulls my arm, jerking my body. Maegors eyes narrow on the guard who’s currently tugging me away from him.

“You let that man handle her like that?” Maegors voice rumbles against the walls.

The guard pulls me down the stairs and we hear continued shouts coming from the hall. Loud footsteps stomp down the stairs and the guard begins to pull me away even faster. I sigh in relief as my carriage makes its way into my sight and I practically sprint to it. The guards hand loosens as hear a slash of metal through bone.

For a moment my breathing stops as I think I’ve been struck as I felt the shutter of the blade. My eyes widen as I turn and take in the scene. Maegor is standing there holding Blackfyre with the guards blood dripping off of it. I look down to my arm as the guards dismembered arm falls to the ground. My eyes then travel to the guard who is on the ground in a state of panic and shock before he goes completely still.

“He should not have touched you like that.” Maegor sheaths his sword, looking to the body at his feet with disgust.

“Uncle,” my voice trembles as steps over the guard and comes to tower over me.

“You’ve become so beautiful, Y/n.” he brings fingers to ghost over my cheek.

My breathing intensifies at his gentle touch after he showed such violence. My eyes dart to the body behind him and he grabs my chin and forces me to look to him. His smile borderline predatory as he begins to lean down. My eyes go wide the closer his mouth comes to mine until he turns his head quickly to whisper something into my ear.

“Maegor you bull, what have you done?” my fathers voice booms behind us as he looks in horror at the guard.

“Did you not see the way your own guard was pulling her. She’ll have bruises come morning. Is this how a Princess should be treated?” he turns to my father tilting his head.

“Please do not use my daughter as an excuse for your wanton brutality.” my father storms over to him.

“Aenys, you don’t want this fight.” Maegors hands go to my father’s shoulders.

I don’t know what leads me to do it, but I place my hand on Maegors arm. He turns and looks down to me curiously as he allows me to remove his hands from my father. I turn to my father who looks from where my hand is placed on Maegor to me.

“Daughter, step away from him.” my father warns.

My hand slips from his armor as I slowly step back to my carriage. Maegor watches every step I take as my father watches him. I slip into the carriage and shut the doors behind me. I sigh out in relief and slide down into my pillowed seats.

The carriage begins to move and I look out my window to see Maegor watching as I’m pulled back through the city. I begin to fan myself off hoping the adrenaline will start to wash away. I find myself blushing at his words of calling me beautiful even though I shouldn’t. I’ve always secretly wished he would see me in that light instead of a child. His temper terrifies me, but Gods he is so handsome.

Once we make it through the gates of the Red Keep I’m escorted directly to my chambers. I huff claiming a chair not wanting to be sequestered here all day. After an hour I pick up a book to hopefully lose myself to another world until the feast begins.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“Princess,” my mother’s soft voice lulls me out of my nap.

“No, did I miss the feast?” I quickly rise from the chair in a panic.

“I’ve come to check on you and to see if you still wanted to attend after today’s events.” she grabs my hand to rub soothing circles on it.

“Of course I want to go to the feast. They have been making my gown for almost a full moon.” I whine.

“I figured as much.” she chuckles as she goes to the doors to allow my handmaidens flood in.

I’m quickly stripped of my dress and lead over to the bath. Lavish oils and soaps are brought out and I hum in relaxation as I’m pampered to. My hair begins to be brushed and secured out of my face by a pale pink ribbon. I rise out of the tub when the water turns tepid and begin to dry off. I’m offered a new slip that seems to be made of the same silk as my ribbon.

I gasp as my gown is brought in for me to finally look upon. The gown is white but with all of the beading it looks as if it’s the soft pink of a morning sunrise. It fits closer to my body than I had originally thought but when looking in the mirror I admire it even more. The beads fade into crystals that flow up the neckline. They offer me a close fitting crystal necklace that brings out the rest of the details in the gown. After they place my earrings I’m guided out of my chambers and down to the dining hall.

“You look absolutely lovely.” my mother smiles as I join her on the dias.

“They outdid themselves with this gown.” I look down to admire it.

I take a sip of wine and take in the life and merriment around me. I look down to my father who seems happy enough but I can still see the lingering frustration. Servants come out and fill our plates once everyone has found their seats. The doors to the hall groan open and my father’s face turns red as Maegor saunters in.

“May I sit next to you, Y/n.” Maegor licks his lips looking down at me.

I nod my head as he pulls the chair out loudly next to me. Servants rush to fill his cup with wine as he continues to look at me. I feel my cheeks heat and I quickly turn back to my plate. I can feel my father’s eyes on me but I don’t have the courage to look anywhere besides my plate.

“You look ravishing in this dress.” Maegor purrs lowly.

“Thank you,” I murmur willing my cheeks not to tint as I take a sip of wine.

“Will you let me take it off of you later?” I cough at his low his words.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” my fathers voice laced with worry at my sudden coughing fit.

“Yes,” I nod clearing my throat attempted to offer him a smile.

My father huffs as we return to our meal. It seems as if the whole hall is blind to the tension radiating from our table. Laughter and toasts are shouted across the hall and all I can think of is Maegor who has slowly been inching his chair closer to mine. I try to ignore his closeness until his thigh is pressed against mine.

“Is there something you needed?” I turn and blink up at him.

“You,” his voice low as he looks down at me with dark eyes.

“Maegor-“

“Come, let’s dance.” he rises above me and offers me his hand and I can see my father turn to us with a scrunched brow.

I place my hand in his palm as his fingers engulf mine. He pulls me down to dance as a new song begins. He pulls me flush against his body and I squeak in surprise. His hand continues to hold mine while his other goes firmly to my lower back. My hand rises to his chest as I look up to him.

He holds me possessively as he stares down any man who looks too closely. My eyes land on my father who is currently seething next to my mother who looks worried. I squirm in Maegors arms as his fingers trail up my spine and bury themselves into my hair. He tilts my head so I’m looking up at him as a smirk spreads across his face.

“You’re going to ruin my hair.” I whine breathlessly.

“Apologies,” he chuckles as his hand slides down to rest on my neck.

We continue to sway to the music and I allow my hand to travel across the expanse of muscle that is his chest. I can feel the dips and definitions through his doublet and can’t begin to imagine what they look like in all their glory. I feel his laugh rumble in his chest before I hear it. I tilt my head as I look up to him.

“Do you enjoy my muscles?” he smiles down at me.

“You’re just so strong.” I whisper as I squeeze his bicep allowing my hands to travel the muscle hidden beneath his sleeves shamelessly.

I gasp as he lifts me into the air as my hands wrap around his neck. He begins to walk towards the main doors while I look over his shoulder and see my father shoot to his feet. He looks to us in confusion and doubt until he sees our path is to exit. He shouts to the guards but it’s too late. I can’t help the excitement and adrenaline that flows through me.

He gets us out of the Keep through a back way I’ve never seen or heard of. Before I know it he’s pulling us on a horse and racing us to the outskirts of the city. I feel the low grumbling of the ground before my feet even touch it as Maegor lifts me back to the ground. My breath escapes me as I behold Balerion.

“Maegor,” I look to him with wide eyes.

“You’ll always be safe when you’re with me.” his words are soft as he begins ushering me over to the rope to climb his massive dragon.

He climbs directly behind of me which offers me some semblance of comfort. As I reach the saddle my head spins as I look down. Maegor settles behind me and quickly grabs the reins. Balerion rises to his full height as I tremble in his arms. He begins to break into a run as we start to take flight.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

We are soon circling Dragonstone as Balerion lets out a fearsome growl. As he descends on the rocky shore some of them begin shaking in his presence. Once we settle I soon realize he wasn’t just shaking the ground, he was waking Vhagar. Gods these dragons make the Red Keep look like a cottage.

Once we make it to the sands he grabs my hand and we begin our walk into the castle. As we make it to the main doors I begin to make out the image of Visenya. She smiles to me but glares to Maegor.

“What have you done, you fool?” she looks to him.

“Found a bride. You told me I should marry and secure my line.” he shrugs as I gape at him.

“It seems as if this is the first time your bride is hearing of this.” he replies curtly.

“Well I planned to woo her with my tongue for a couple of hours before I asked.” his words cause a blush to creep up my neck.

“Must you be so foul?” Visenya scoffs at him. “What is your plan for when Aenys comes to get her?” he raises her eyebrows.

“He’d be a fool to face me. We will be wed on the morrow. He can’t take my wife away from me.” he pulls me closer to his side.

My head is spinning with this discussion. I feel as if I don’t have a say in the matter but I’m not upset at the outcome. I worry for what my father and mother will think but they’ve been asking me to marry for years. I shake my head trying to bring myself back to the present as Maegor begins pulling me into the castle.

He rushes us up the stairs and seals us behind a set of double doors. He turns and stalks over to me grabbing at my waist and pulling me to him. He looks down to me as his hands move to the back of my gown.

“Do not rip this gown Maegor. It took almost a moon to make.” I try to make my voice sound firm.

“Mm,” his fingers begin to slowly unlace the back of my gown.

His fingers ghost along my back as he loosens the gown. He steps back and pushes the gown down my shoulders causing it to pool around my feet. I’m left in my silk slip and I begin to feel as if I’m left in nothing by the way he’s looking at me. One of his hands goes to my hair and pulls the ribbon out causing my hair to cascade down my back.

“Do you always match your hair piece with your slip?” he asks lowly as he trails the ribbon along my arm.

I shake my head not trusting my words as I shiver under his touch. His hand travels back down to my waist and splays across my bare thigh. I look up to him with low lids as his hand begins to move to my inner thighs. I grab on tightly to his arm as he trails a finger along my slit. My breaths come out in pants as he continues his journey through my wetness.

“On the bed.” he looks down to me as he removes his hands.

I compose myself enough to turn and walk to the bed. I crawl to the middle of the bed and lay on my back as he begins to crawl over me. His hand trails up my body with my ribbon following. He dips down and when I think he’s finally about to kiss me he whispers into my ear.

“Hands above your head.” I whimper at his words and do as I’m told.

He brings my ribbon up to my wrists and secures them to the headboard before he rises above me. He looks at me with a sinister smirk and I clench my thighs in anticipation. He hums as he looks at me completely at his will. He stalks around the bed looking at me before he settles next to me.

His hands trail up my bare leg as he lifts my slip with his hands and bunches it up above my breasts. He groans as he takes in my body and his hands begin to travel over every inch of skin. My eyes shut as his hands continue to snake around my body pulling soft whines from me.

“Maegor,” his name falls from my mouth as he pinches one of my nipples between his rough fingers.

“Mm, you like a little pain?” he coos as his other hand cups my other breast roughly.

A moan tears through me as I squeeze my legs shut. He chuckles lowly as I begin to feel his beard across my chest as he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. My chest arches up into his mouth as his teeth tease my sensitive bud.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun.” he says arrogantly as he blows on my nipple.

He trails sloppy kisses down my torso and begins to pepper kisses along my hips. My hips jerk up as his tongue begins to dance on my hot skin. He spreads my thighs and groans as he’s greeted by my wet core. He dives down and his tongue begins to lap at my clit. My hands tug at the headboard causing it to groan as he chuckles into me.

My hips grind against his face seeking more pleasure until his hands land on my hips stilling me. He attacks my clit with his tongue as a moan tears through me as pleasure bursts through my body. He looks up to me from between my thighs licking his lips.

My chest is rapidly rising and falling between us and he dips back down to my sensitive core. He offers soft licks at my clit sending jolts through my body as he teases a finger at my entrance. He slowly pushes a thick finger into me ripping a moan from my lips.

“Maegor, please,” I whine as he slowly starts to pump his finger slowly.

His tongue swirls against my clit as his finger starts a fast rhythm. My thighs try to close around his head again but this time he ignores it as he focuses on my pleasure. As my whimpers fall faster he slowly starts to add a second finger. I cry out as I clench around his fingers and allow him to pull pleasure from my body.

His name is the only word that falls from my lips as I come undone around his fingers. He continues pumping into me as my legs quake around him. He pulls back and hoovers above me with a wet beard. My legs shut once he rises off the bed and I look to him with low lids.

“You will be my wife.” It is a statement as he pulls off his shirt.

“Yes,” I nod still trying to catch my breath as I drink in his bare chest and the muscles that he’s showing off.

“Say it.” he says lowly as he begins to unlace his trousers.

“I will be your wife.” my voice unwavering.

He pushes his trousers the rest of the way down and crawls above me on the bed. His hands spread open my thighs once more as he settles between them. I gasp as I feel him glide through my wetness. He dips down and I crane my neck hoping to finally kiss him. He smiles and pulls back much to my frustration.

“Maegor,” I whine.

“Yes?” he chuckles as he kisses across my chest and makes his way to my neck.

“Untie me, please, I want to touch you.” my voice needy as I arch my body into his.

“Since you asked so nicely.” he sucks on my neck as he slowly unties my wrists.

My hands fly to his bare skin caressing and feeling every muscle I can reach. His hips slowly rock into mine causing him to slide against my clit. My nails dig into his shoulder as he bites down onto my neck. He raises his head above mine and I move my hands to his neck to hopefully pull him down into a kiss.

The second his lips touch mine I melt into him completely. My fingers travel to his short locks as I pull him closer to me. Maegor groans as he slowly begins to push into me as a sigh falls from my lips. I’ve never felt this full before. He looks down at me with a furrowed brow and I can tell he’s holding back until I can fully adjust. Once it becomes tolerable I move my hips and he snaps his back into mine.

His pace is brutal that has my eyes rolling into the back of my head. Moans and whimpers fall from my lips as he pounds into me seeking pleasure. His lips find mine again and his tongue begins to lash against mine. He pulls back and looks at my face as his fingers begin to circle my clit.

“Maegor, Maegor please,” I sob as I come around him while he continues to push into me.

His lips crash to mine roughly as his hips repeatedly snap into mine. His teeth catch my bottom lip as I cry out. My fingers claw at his arms for support as he continues to pull pleasure from me. His trusts become sloppy as his fingers make their way back to my clit again. My vision blurs as I explode around him once more. He settles deep in me as I feel him begin to fill me.

“So fucking good for me. My perfect Princess.” he grunts as he continues to grind his hips into mine.

“My husband,” my words barely audible as I continue to cling to him.

He flips us over remaining in me saying he wants to be as close as possible. My body and mind too tired, I simply let my eyes flutter shut as I drift off to sleep.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist 🔌

#maegor targaryen #maegor the cruel #maegor x reader #maegor smut #x reader smut #hotd smut #x reader #fire and blood smut #visenya targaryen #aenys targaryen #got smut #hotd imagine #hotd fic

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imaginespazzi · 6 months ago

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Part 6: Leaps of Faith

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7

I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling (you put your arms around me and I'm home)

(In which a writer who can see the end approaching starts building towards that ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. Happy Sunday and Happy Mothers day! First of all, I wanna thank y'all for being ever so patient with me. I know I've been pretty bad about updating lately and y'all have been so sweet with your asks and I really appreciate it. This fic is very close to its end. I probably could have ended it with this chapter but there's a very specific ending I want to write so this one is more of a self-indulgent filler but I think y'all will like this one. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue of sorts. Once again, there are most likely logistical inaccuracies. I'm not even gonna lie, the editing on this one is shoddy so there are definitely grammar errors/typos. For now, ignore them and I'll go fix them later. As always, even if we're near the end, feel free let me know what you liked, what you didn't and anything you'd like to see before we get to the end. Have a wonderful week my angels <3

April 2024

“It’s a little early for ice cream hon,” Azzi jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, startled eyes following the direction of the noise to find Katie leaning against the kitchen door, with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s a little early to scare the living bejesus out of me mom,” she says with a hand to her chest.

If possible, Katie’s eyes roll even further at her daughter’s sarcastic tone as she makes her way over to the kitchen counter. She’s gotten herself a spoon and everything, ready to steal some ice cream for herself, when she notices the flavour. Next to her, Azzi stiffens.

“You hate mint chocolate chip Az,” Katie says quietly.

“I couldn’t find the strawberry ice cream,” Azzi defends stubbornly, her face taking on a guarded expression.

Katie walks over to the freezer, opening it and pointing at the strawberry ice cream, Azzi’s favourite, that’s sitting in plain sight, “it’s right there.”

“Well,” Azzi splutters, “I’m trying something new,”.

“You hate trying new things.”

“I’ve grown up I guess.”

“Azzi.”

“Mom.”

“Azzi, why are you eating ice cream you hate at 4 in the morning?” Katie finally asks in her best mom voice, sighing when she gets a mumbled response from her daughter, “in words Az, please.”

“Paige likes it,” Azzi admits slowly, and before Katie can say anything, before Azzi can dwell on what she’s said, she launches into a rant, “god knows why. Actually I know why because she’s stupid and weird and likes the dumbest shit. Who the fuck likes mint? Who the fuck likes mint and chocolate together? Gross. This shit is disgusting. It tastes all wrong. Paige is just-,” Azzi throws her hands up in the air, “she just doesn’t understand that some things don’t belong together. They can’t. They’re too different and it just- there’s a fucking balance to things you know? And she just- she doesn’t get that. It’s just- it’s not meant to be.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re eating it right now,” Katie says carefully.

“Because I miss her,” the truth bursts out of Azzi like an erupting volcano, burning itself into every crevice of her skin, “because for some fucking reason I don’t hate the taste of mint chocolate chip. Because maybe they do go together and maybe I’ve been the stupid one this whole time.”

Since she’d stepped out of the hotel in Cleveland, all Azzi could think about was going back, saying fuck it to all the useless logic she’d come up with and going back to the only thing in her life that had ever made sense her Paige. But as it often did in that clichéd battle between head and heart, her head had won out. And she’s never questioned why her head wins so much, why she’s always chosen to listen to the practical side of her brain, until now. Until now when the urge to turn back time, to make herself stay in that hotel room, is all that’s consumed her for the last week.

“Azzi,” Katie wraps her arms around the younger girl, “what happened with you and Paige?”

Azzi hesitates for a second and then everything’s spilling out of her lips, the good, the bad, the inbetween, all of it tumbles out like an uncontrollable waterfall. There’s something freeing about being able to say it all out loud, something freeing about the tears Azzi finally lets roll down her cheeks. She grips the edge of the counter to keep herself from keeling over, starting to feel herself crumble under the heaviness of all these stupid feelings.

“It shouldn’t be this hard,” Azzi whispers, “we used to be so easy.”

“Oh Az,” Katie rubs a thumb against her daughter’s cheek, “you used to be kids. You’re all grown up now. It’s always harder when you’re older.”

“Well, I don’t like it. I just want to be the way we were again.”

“So why don’t you?” Katie asks like it’s the most simple solution in the world and Azzi shoots her mother an exasperated look.

“What do you mean? How do we even do that? We can’t be just friends again. We tried. Were you not listening at all?”

“Azzi, sweetheart, you’ve never been just friends.”

“That’s not true,” it’s a futile attempt at arguing against what’s become more of a fact than an opinion in Azzi’s life. It’s a truth she’d let herself acknowledge once and then buried deep within her, scared that once unleashed, it would ruin everything. Except, it turns out, even without it, things had still turned to dust.

“Do you remember when you came home from Minnesota that first summer with Paige? You were either moping around or you were on call with her. There was no in between. It got better eventually, the moping stopped but the calls? I think you fell asleep on facetime with her almost every night. And you were tired every morning after, you barely had time to eat before school but every time I suggested that maybe you cut back, that was never an option,” Katie smiles fondly, “it’s when I knew.”

Azzi does remember, remembers talking about everything and nothing, remembers laughing and crying, remembers when Paige’s breathing was the only lullaby that could relax her into sleeping. And she remembers battling with that voice in her head, the one convinced there’s something more, silencing it with I’d do this with anyone. But that wasn’t true then and it’s not true now because Paige has never been just anyone, never been just a friend. Because even if Azzi’s never been brave enough to say it out loud, Paige is and has always been everything.

Despite knowing the answer and maybe dreading it just a little bit, Azzi asks it to her mom anyway, “what did you know?”

“That she was your person. You were too young, I couldn’t call it love just yet but I knew Paige was different then, she was yours in a way none of your other friends were. You were different around her,” Katie nudges her daughter, “Azzi you’ve always been just a little bit in love with her and she’s always been just a little bit in love with you too. The two of you have just been a matter of time.”

Azzi closes her eyes, and unlike other people, she doesn’t see darkness or little spots of light, she just sees Paige. Her mother’s words wash over her, like acid in her self-inflicted fight the feelings wounds and yet, the idea of she’s loved me too feels like a band-aid being delicately placed on the scars of her heart.

“And place,” she whispers, eyes still closed, “we never seem to get time and place right.”

“Why do you need to?”

Another exasperated look is sent Katie’s way at that question, “we live on different sides of the country mom, what do you mean why do we need to?”

“I mean the two of you have barely ever been in the same place. But you made it work, when you had even less, when you felt even less. But you’re adults now. You have other resources now. And I know timing is difficult but- it’s you and Paige. What are you so scared of Azzi?”

Azzi sucks in a deep breath, “what if Paige runs away again?”

“What if you run away again?”

“Excuse me?”

“Who was the last person to walk away, Azzi?,” Katie sighs when Azzi is adamantly silent, “I know she hurt you by leaving. I know she hurt you by pushing you away. But you did the same thing. You chose UCLA,” Katie holds up a hand when a frustrated Azzi tries to interrupt, “and it was the right decision for you Azzi and she should have supported it. But that doesn’t meant you didn’t hurt her and then you chose Zoe-”

“I didn’t choose Zoe-”

“Yes you did Azzi. Sweetheart you’re my daughter and I will always tell you the complete truth even if it’s not what you wanna hear. And the truth Azzi is that Paige might have hurt you in 101 different ways but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her back in 99 different ways too.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Azzi whispers, “that’s the problem mom. It hurts when she hurts me but it hurts even more when I hurt her. I don’t want that for us but I just- I just don’t know how to stop it without stopping us.”

“You haven’t even tried, baby. Paige held out a hand and you ran away.”

“She left first. How am I supposed to trust that she won’t just do that again," all that’s missing from Azzi’s stubborn whine is a foot stomp.

“Because she came back. It took her a little bit, I know, but she came back and she’s ready to fight, the question is, are you?”

“Why are you defending her?” Azzi splutters, “who’s side are you even on?”

“There are no sides to this sweetheart. The two of you are on the same side. So maybe instead of fighting against her, take that hand, fight with her.”

***

The WNBA draft is a momentous occasion this year. With a hyped draft class like no other, and the promise of even greater ones in the future, there’s a sense of celebratory hope dangling in the air. When the invite had first come in, Azzi had known the same one would be sent to a certain blonde in Connecticut as well. And a part of her had wanted to hide herself away from that possible collision, but every other part of her wanted nothing more than to get just a glimpse of the blonde.

One moment Azzi is surrounded by flashing cameras and the echo of her name on everyone’s lips, the next everything around her is fading away her eyes meet Paige’s on the other end of the WNBA draft orange carpet. It’s nothing new really. Since she’s met her, the blonde has commandeered all of Azzi’s attention whenever she’s nearby. Sometimes it feels like all of her other five senses fade away to give birth to a secret sixth one, one that’s solely dedicated to Paige, one that’s terrifyingly all-consuming. And yet, despite the heaviness of we’ve said too many goodbyes, for the first time in what feels like eternity, Azzi feels like she can finally breathe.

And then Paige looks away.

And Azzi’s back to struggling for air.

It’s selfish of her, she knows, to expect something, not when she’d been the one to leave them stranded on different islands. But Azzi doesn’t seem to think logically when it comes to Paige and even as she tries to turn her focus back to posing for the camera, every inch of her body is dangerously aware of the blonde’s every move, just a mere few feet away from her. Her conversation with her mother is echoing in her head, giving rise to dangerous desires of what if i grabbed your hand and we ran away together.

Paige is a natural on the orange carpet, all dazzling smiles and twinkling eyes. She glides through it, inching closer and closer to Azzi, but never giving away any sense of discomfort. And if it was anybody else, maybe they’d never catch onto the nerves hidden beneath Paige’s facade of calm, cool and collected. But once upon a time Paige used to be Azzi’s favourite puzzle and she has every part of the blonde committed to memory. It’s in the way Paige’s teeth gnaw at her lips for the briefest of seconds, in the way her right index finger is begging to tap a beat against where her hands rests on hips, in the way she’s blinking just one too many times.

And then with one more heavy footed step from Paige, the distance between them is barely a couple inches and they let out identical breaths of air, both of them keeping their focus on the cameras in front of them. It’s loud, too loud, and still all Azzi can focus on is the sound of Paige breathing. The air around them is thick with tension. It feels a bit like they’re silhouetted against a sky made of words they’ve left unsaid and clouds of all the bitter mistakes they’ve made are hanging over their heads. And when their pinkies brush together, and a jolt of electricity sends shivers of I miss you more every day again her skin, Azzi questions if she’s ever made the right decision when it comes to Paige.

“Wait wait wait,” Ari cuts in, as she squeezes herself in between the two of them, “I wanna get in between the two of you.”

A harsh cry of no sits heavily on the top of Azzi’s tongue as the older woman forces a break in whatever little bit of contact she’d had with Paige. She feels a little pathetic, the way every little inch of her skin is craving for that touch back. It had been nothing, a barely there moment and still Azzi thinks, when she goes to bed tonight, if that was all she’d get of Paige, then it’ll be the only thing that’ll feature in her dreams.

“Alright one with just Paige and Azzi,” Ari directs the media, stepping out of the way and pushing the two younger girls together. And it’s laughable that a little brush of their pinkies had Azzi feeling any type of way because when they’re suddenly pressed together, every inch of Paige’s side fitting into Azzi’s like it belongs, the way the world suddenly bursts with light and colours makes Azzi wonder if every moment without Paige has simply been monochrome.

It comes to them naturally how to pose together, arms winding around each other’s waist, heads involuntarily leaning against the other’s. And the smiles might be for the cameras but Azzi knows hers is the most real it’s been all night. It might be temporary, she might lose Paige in the chaos, but for now Paige is here and Azzi has learned how to be content with whatever little she can get.

As the media moves to capture other people, the logical thing to do would be to separate, to let go of each other. But instead they stand there, still completely wrapped around each other, heart rates in sync as they breathe in each other’s presence. And then Paige’s hand falls from the small of Azzi’s back to tangle their fingers together and they let out identical sighs of relief, something so cathartic in the purposefulness of that touch. Everyone is too busy to notice that the two of them have fallen into a whole other world, one where there’s only two of them and every emotion that they’ve only reserved for the other. There’s no words exchanged as Paige guides the two of them out of the spotlight, somehow keeping their hands clasped together in secret, despite the ever growing crowd. And Azzi doesn’t know this building at all, doesn’t have the faintest clue where she’s being led to, but as long as it’s Paige pulling her along, she doesn’t care where, she thinks she’d go anywhere.

Paige stops abruptly in a secluded corridor, turning to fully face Azzi. And the sincerity in the blonde’s crystalline blue eyes, as they roam every inch of Azzi’s body before coming to fixate on her face, steals the air away from Azzi’s lungs. Paige has gotten better over the years at building walls, but with every new lock she places on her emotions, there’s a key to open them that seems to always find its way to Azzi. In the delicate golden hue, Paige shines brighter than any star ever could and in the dim light Azzi can make out every bit of hurt and love and please can we just have this moment that Paige can’t put into words.

“Hi,” Azzi whispers softly, hands itching to reach out and caress Paige’s skin.

“Hi,” Paige says back, even quieter. She stares at Azzi as if she’s memorising every little detail and then her face crumbles. Azzi feels her heart drop at the single tear that trickles down Paige’s cheek as she lets out a broken whimper. And this, this unspoken power they seem to have over each other, the uncanny ability to just hurt each other without any bit of effort, is what scares Azzi the most. It’s too much. They shouldn’t be able to do this.

“Paige,” Azzi’s fingers twitch but she hesitates, not knowing if it’s the right thing, “fuck- P what’s wrong?”

Paige doesn’t reply, eyes wandering down to where Azzi’s trying to keep her hands still against her sides and when she looks back up, her eyes are bloodshot, “what’s wrong? What’s not wrong Azzi? You won’t even fucking touch me.”

“I didn’t-” Azzi struggles to speak, “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“Can you just- fuck- can you just stop overthinking things for once in your life. Of course I want you to touch- you know what nevermind. This was a bad idea. You made yourself clear and I’m just- fuck- I should- I should just go.”

She sounds adamant enough but all it takes, when Paige moves to leave, is the strangled cry that leaves Azzi’s lips. The sound is enough to pull Paige right back in. She takes one look at the tears brimming in Azzi’s eyes. And then she’s pushing Azzi against a wall, hands on either side caging the younger girl between her body and the hard surface behind. She presses their foreheads together and Azzi feels like every part of her might just be a part of Paige too.

“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. It’s barely been two weeks and I- fuck- Azzi- I’ve missed you every single second and now you’re here and I still miss you. And it really fucking hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, finally letting her hands cup Paige’s cheeks, and it’s worth it for the way Paige seems to completely melt into her touch, “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I keep thinking I’m doing the right thing but- I don’t know- I feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing when it comes to you. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”

“Just let me be with you,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with desperation as she presses herself as close to Azzi as possible, “I’ll be your whatever- whatever you give me- whatever you want- I just- I just want you Az- whatever little bit you’re willing to give me- I’ll take it- and if you want me to wait- fuck Azzi- I’d wait forever- you know that right? However long it takes, baby. Just want you- just want us.”

Leaps of faith are scary. Azzi’s never been great at taking them, too cautious, too much of a worrier. She’s more of a step back from the cliff kind of person. If she doesn’t jump, she can’t fall. But here’s the thing, when she was fourteen, Azzi jumped off of her first hypothetical cliff. It had been on a plane, when after avoiding one too many deep questions, Azzi had admitted to a girl she barely knew,that maybe she could like girls. It was the first time she’d ever let herself acknowledge that truth about herself and the girl next to her was a stranger but there was something about her, something that screamed i’ll hold your hand and if you jump it’ll never be alone. And ever since then, that girl, Paige, has always been there. Hands outstretched, ready to jump off any ledge. Because if there’s hard ground underneath, then they’ll learn how to fly together and if there’s water, they’ll figure out how to swim. With Paige there has always been the promise that, whatever it is, they’ll figure it out together. And it’s with that promise in mind, that Azzi takes the leap of faith.

“Me too,” Azzi whispers, heart beating erratically.

“What?” Paige searches Azzi’s face, as if waiting for her to take it back.

“Us. You. You and me. I want that too,” a ghost of a smile begins to creep onto Azzi’s face, and for the first time in god knows how long, she feels feather light, a little bit like she’s floating on a rainbow.

“You mean it?” Paige asks earnestly, hands moving from the wall to clutch at Azzi’s waist, “don’t play-Azzi- okay- you mean it for real?”

“I do. I want this- I want this so much and I’m still- I’m still really scared and maybe it’ll be a disaster but I- I want to try. With you.”

Azzi used to think she knew all of Paige’s smiles. Her small, not quite fake, but only for cameras and people she didn’t quite know, smiles. Her just for my friends smile that was filled with mirth and childlike joy. Her basketball smile that transformed into a smirk when she got too cocky. Her only for Drew smile, soft and filled with so much adoration and pride. Her Azzi smile, the one only the brown-skinned girl gets to experience, a smile that made Azzi’s her heart swell with love. But the smile that stretches across Paige’s face now, is one Azzi’s never seen before. This one throws Azzi’s entire world of balance, so bright, so big, so full of emotions. If she could, she’d tattoo that smile onto her skin forever.

“We’re really doing this?” Paige asks, still a little stunned. It wasn’t what Azzi had planned for tonight. She hadn’t really had any plans for what would really happen. But then Paige had walked in and all Azzi could see was forever she was tired of fighting against.

“We should take it slow okay-” Azzi wraps her arms around the older girl’s neck, keeping their foreheads still against each other’s, “I don’t- I don’t wanna rush into things and fuck it up. I can’t- fuck- I can’t lose y-”

“You won’t,” Paige swears, squeezing at Azzi’s wait, “I won’t let you. We can take it slow. We can take it however you want- I just- we’re doing this?”

“Yeah,” Azzi can’t help the grin that fills up her entire face, “yeah we’re doing this.”

And as they surge forward to claim each other’s lips, and as they meld every inch of themselves into each other, and as they smile and cry into the kiss simultaneously, and as they etch promises into each other skin, and as they let themselves finally fall into each other, for each other, it feels a lot like coming home.

***

July 2024

The early morning sunlight casts a dark shadow across Paige’s face, causing the still asleep blonde to scrunch up her face in irritation. Azzi, who’s been awake for nearly half an hour now, can’t help the fond smile that creeps onto her own lips. She shifts herself to block the sun and Paige lets out a content sigh, burrowing herself further into her pillows. And the thing is every moment with Paige is special but there’s something about waking up to her in the morning. Azzi’s always awake first and it gives her ample time to just admire the girl in her arms, blond hair tousled all over her pillow, lips parted slightly open, and one arm always, always, splayed across Azzi’s torso, holding her close. Over the course of time, Azzi’s found out that the second she moves, Paige seems to feel her leave, waking up instantly.

There had been an adjustment period if Azzi's honest. It had taken her a while to shake that fear of Paige not being there in the morning. The first morning, she’d been scared to open her eyes, even if she could feel Paige’s presence right next to her. That had been one of the few mornings that Paige was fully awake first, hovering above Azzi to wake her up. And when she finally did get the courage to open her eyes, the first thing Azzi had seen was Paige, blue eyes sparkling with unfiltered adoration, a smile filled with promises of every morning just like this. And that had been enough.

Azzi reaches out to brush a hand through Paige’s soft blond hair, mesmerised by how pretty Paige looks in the morning glow. A lot of Paige belongs to the world now and Azzi’s not opposed to sharing really, because someone so fucking perfect, deserves to be celebrated like that. But there are some parts of Paige that belong to Azzi and Azzi only, some parts Azzi cherishes as being only hers. This is one of them and Azzi takes a snapshot of it, knowing she’ll need it to function in a few months, when she won’t get the real thing.

“Are you watching Paige sleep?” Azzi almost jumps at the sound of Drew’s voice at the doorway, having been too immersed in Paige to have even heard the door open, “that’s kinda creepy Azzi.”

“Jesus Drew, whatever happened to knocking?”

“I forgot?” Drew grins, before he plops on the bed, the force of it making the whole frame shake a little bit.

“Drew!” Azzi chides, “you’re gonna wake her up.”

Drew cocks his eyebrows, sparing his sister, who seems unphased by the sudden little bit of chaos around her, still fast asleep, an unimpressive look, “please she can sleep through anything. Besides, it’s already 9. I thought we were gonna do things. I been up for aaaages.”

“She’ll be awake soon,” Azzi smiles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. Drew rolls his eyes and it’s remarkable how much he resembles Paige, not just by face, but the mannerisms too.

He huffs for a second before his eyes sparkle with an idea, “what if we pour water on her!”

“Drew!” Azzi chastises again, trying not to giggle.

“Boo,” Drew crosses his arms across his chest, “you used to be so cool Azzi.”

Azzi laughs as she’s reminded of a younger version of herself, scheming with Drew on how to wake Paige up. And it’s not that she’s beyond that really, tucking the water idea for a rainy day, but Paige looks too peaceful this morning and she wants to preserve that look of serenity on the older girl’s face for just a little bit longer.

“Hey Azzi,” Drew says after a while and Azzi hums in response, “when you and Paige get married, I can still be a groomsman right? Even if there’s no grooms?”

“Wha- where did that come from?” the brunette’s eyes widened at the question, sitting up a little straighter.

Drew peers up at her with all the innocence of a pre-teen, “you are gonna get married right?”

“I don’t-”

“It’s too early for your yapping Drew,” Azzi’s saved from answering by Paige’s tired voice entering the conversation. She looks over to find Paige’s eyes already on her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at Azzi. If Drew wasn’t sitting right there, Azzi would lean over and kiss her and let Paige deepen it until they were both satisfied.

“Oh thank god,” Drew cheers dramatically, “I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”

Paige scoffs, the arm that’s still wrapped around Azzi’s torso tightening its hold, “I wish.”

“Well you’re awake now so get up,” Drew whines, moving from his spot on the end of the bed, to flop on top of Paige’s body instead, “get up, get up, GET UP.”

“Get off,” Paige groans but there’s no real force behind it. Azzi watches with a fond smile, as Paige flips Drew over so that she can tickle him, eliciting rounds of laughter from the younger boy. Something in her heart flutters, her mind going back to Drew’s question. She’s never really been one to think too hard about marriage and children and that domestic suburban life, leaving it up to fate, but now- well, maybe.

“Okay aight aight enough. Go get ready for breakfast and we’ll be down in a second,” Paige says, ushering Drew off of the bed.

“You can just tell me you want me to leave so you can kiss Azzi you know?” Drew scrunches up his nose, “you two are gross.”

Paige sends him a stern look and gets a dramatic eye roll in return but as he always does, Drew does as he’s told, mock saluting the two of them and skipping out of the room.

“He’s right by the way,” Paige says softly, turning back to where Azzi’s leaning against the backboard, “I do want to kiss you.”

Azzi smirks lopsidedly, “what’s stopping you?”

She squeals in surprise when Paige pulls her, the force of it causing both of them to tumble onto the front-end of the bed. Azzi ends up on top of Paige, hands resting around her neck, the blonde’s hands holding her waist in place.

“Good morning,” Paige grins, clearly proud of herself as she chases Azzi’s lips to pull her into a searing kiss.

“Good morning,” Azzi whispers back, thumb caressing Paige’s left cheek.

“Just so you know,” Paige pulls away, a determined glint in her eyes, “we’re so getting married one day.”

***

October 2024

Azzi’s mood has been rancid for the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible she knows; it makes her irritating to play with and a nightmare to live with. But even if this had been expected, that she would be on one end of the country and her heart would be on the other side, it doesn’t stop her from constantly being in a state of missing Paige. And it’s different from before, now that there’s a certain surety of of course i’ll see you soon but soon never really feels soon enough.

“Azzi can you please get the door,” Kiki calls from her room when the doorbell rings.

“I’m busy,” Azzi grunts back, snuggling further into her pillow with a book she isn’t actually reading, “you go get it.”

“Azzi please, I’m literally in the middle of getting dressed,” Kiki yells exasperatedly.

If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s pretty sure her teammates are about this close to plotting her murder, and deservedly so, Azzi would sink back onto her bed and let the incessant doorbell noise continue. But she does love her teammates, thinks Kiki probably deserves to change in peace, and it forces her out of bed, grumbling away about annoying visitors. Until she actually gets a look at the visitor. Paige stands on the doorstep, confident as ever, a bouquet of roses and peonies and lilies in her hand.

“You’re here,” Azzi breathes out, staring in awe.

“And thank fucking god she is,” Kiki quips from behind her, “maybe we can finally get our old happy Azzi back and not this bitch.”

Paige laughs, “watch how you talk about my girl Rice.”

“You’re here. You’re really here,” Azzi whispers again.

“I heard you missed me baby,” Paige says, her cocky smirk betrayed by the softness in her voice. And then Azzi is flying into her arms, throwing Paige off balance.

“So fucking much,” Azzi admits into Paige’s neck, eliciting a giggle from the blonde, “Kiki’s right. I have been a bitch.”

“Just a little bit,” Kiki calls out again but there’s a new fondness in her voice. It’s funny how her team, even the haters, have slowly become Paige fans. They’d been hesitant at first, just like the UConn girls, but now well, it seems the basketball world’s Montagues and Capulets have learned to accept their star players’ relationship.

“Missed you too Az,” Paige’s tone is vulnerable as they break away, “alright, go get changed, I wanna take you somewhere.”

“Or…,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, “we could stay here and do something else.”

Paige shivers under her touch, stepping away to keep some semblance of control “n-no I have plans,” but she can’t help but kiss Azzi’s pout away, “it’ll be worth it, I promise. Besides,” she bites at Azzi’s ear, “there’s always later.”

***

“Your big plans are to bring me to the supermarket,” Azzi cocks an eyebrow as they walk down one of the many aisles, “you turned down sex for this? Should I be offended?”

Paige doesn’t say anything, concentratedly looking at signs, trying to figure out a specific section, before an aha! moment dances over her face, and she pulls Azzi with her, the younger girl going willingly, despite the eye roll. She stops triumphantly in front of the sushi section and Azzi looks at her quizzically.

“I’m getting you supermarket sushi,” Paige says pointedly, “and then you can get me mac and cheese.”

And if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favourite mac and cheese. Oh. The realisation of what Paige is doing trickles around Azzi a little bit like rain after a long summer drought. She thinks back to the bouquet, everything suddenly making sense.

“You’re such a dork Paige Bueckers,” Azzi says softly, tapping the older girl’s nose.

“Your dork,” Paige grins cheesily, “now hurry up and pick one. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”

***

Once she catches on it, it doesn’t surprise Azzi to find that Paige has everything planned out perfectly, down to the exact spot in the park- the one by Paige’s recovery airBnB, the one they’d taken countless walks in trying to repair their friendship- where the two of them can be away from everybody else, in their own little bubble. And she has a picnic blanket, that’s a little small but they don’t really want space from each other anyways. They lean against a tree, food set up in front of them, Paige’s laptop, carefully piled on top of a couple of books to be the perfect height, set a little bit further away.

“So what NBA game are we watching?” Azzi asks with a smile and Paige groans, “what? Was that not part of the plan?”

“Dude come on. It’s the beginning of October. Please tell me you know the NBA season isn’t happening yet,” Paige rubs her temple, only a little endeared by the comment, “are you sure you’re a basketball player?”

“There are games in October. I swear I’ve seen them before,” Azzi says sceptically.

“Yeah at the very end of the month, not right now.”

“Well then close enough,” Azzi says indignantly, “I don’t need to know the exact day.”

“Whatever you say baby,” Paige acquiesces with a smirk and it earns her an elbow to the stomach, “what the fuck? That shit’s domestic violence you know?”

“Big words Bueckers, didn’t think you knew them,” Azzi teases, placing a kiss against Paige’s offended expression, before settling herself against the blonde’s side, sighing contentedly when she gets a kiss on her temple in return. They’re cliché enough to put on Love and Basketball, but Azzi doesn’t really end up watching much at all. In between slow kisses, she almost falls asleep a couple of times, the comfort of Paige’s arms like a blanket wrapping her in the warmth of this is my fairytale.

“THE POLAROID,” Paige’s shout breaks Azzi out of her haze as she feels her body being shaken off, the blonde rummaging through her bag for the camera, “we have to take the polaroid. My wall needs it.”

“Oh yeah a tiny polaroid picture of us inbetween all your Lebron posters, a perfect fit,” Azzi drawls only to be met with a scathing look from Paige.

“It’s for important things and Lebron is the most important of them all,” Paige explains with complete seriousness, as she finally finds the polaroid camera and shimmies back to Azzi with it in hand.

The sunset is beautiful. Pink, purple, orange and blue, all blending together to create the perfect picture. But Azzi thinks it’s not nearly as beautiful as the girl in front of her, not nearly as beautiful as the date Paige had planned, not nearly as beautiful as the future she can so clearly see now. Her mind drifts back to the night of the phone call, and she can almost hear Paige’s sobs again, can still hear her own voice breaking. Back then, they had seemed impossible, a butterfly like dream that danced out of their grasp.

“Hey,” Paige captures her chin with two fingers, “where’d you go?”

Azzi shakes her head, “nowhere. I’m right here. With you. Where I should be.”

“Sappy goof,” Paige snorts but she kisses Azzi like she’ll take those words and hide them in the labyrinth of her mind, protect them there forever.

Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks.

Click.

And Azzi hopes, that however many years later, when they have a home of their own, amidst all the photos that they’ll take over the next years, this one will be hung somewhere on their wall, a testament to finally realising every dream they’d dared to dream together.

***

December 2024

There are pebbles being thrown at her window and Azzi has to stop herself from laughing when she peers down to see Paige, freezing cold in the Virginia December air, staring up at her with a goofy smile. She shakes her head when her phone rings, knowing it’s Paige and answers it with her own foolish grin.

“What exactly are you doing?” Azzi asks, “come back to bed.”

“You said I was unromantic. I’m trying to be romantic,” Paige’s teeth chatter in the cold, as she balances her phone in one hand, still throwing rocks with the other.

“I didn’t say that and throwing rocks at my window is supposed to be romantic? You’re going to wake the whole house up.”

“That’s what they do in all the good rom coms. And you said and I quote ‘we’re kind of boring’. You might be boring Azzi Fudd but I most definitely am not.”

It had been a throwaway comment Azzi had made at dinner with some friends from high school. One of her friends had been going on and on about some adventurous trip that she and her boyfriend were going on, and then asked Paige and Azzi if they had any of that planned. To which Azzi had replied that they were a little too busy, considering they were college basketball players still in season, and besides they were “kind of boring” people. She hadn’t meant it in any type of way. Personally, Azzi likes boring. Paige however, seemed to have taken the comment to heart and Azzi had woken up at 2 a.m. to an empty bed and the sound of something being thrown at her window.

“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You're really interesting baby and the most romantic person in the world. Now will you please come back to bed,” Azzi concedes, already missing the feeling of being cuddled up in her blankets with Paige’s body heat keeping her nice and toasty.

“No,” Paige says indignantly, “come down here.”

“Paige, it's freezing. It’s gonna start snowing any minute.”

“Exactly. That’s exciting.”

“Sleep is exciting,” Azzi whines, but she’s already padding around her room looking for a warm sweater, grumbling under her breath about the warm California sun she’s missing. She tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at the one step that creaks just a little too much, before pushing herself out the door. And it’s freezing cold, there’s sleep in her eyes, but it’s all worth it Azzi thinks, it’ll always be worth it, just to experience Paige’s smile.

“Knew you’d come,” Paige grins cockily, mittened hands pulling Azzi into her.

“Yeah yeah. What are we even doing?”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige bellows dramatically, “may I have this dance.”

Azzi stares at Paige’s outstretched hand wondering if this is some sort of cry for help, but one look at Paige’s face tells her that the girl in front of her is being absolutely serious.

“This is your idea of exciting? Dancing in the street while it’s freezing with no music?” Azzi raises an eyebrow, but she takes Paige’s hand.

“It’s spontaneous,” Paige says the last word with a flourish, as she spins Azzi, “why not dance in the street when it’s freezing with no music?”

And well, that’s a fair point. If anyone were to look out their window that night, they’d probably think the two girls were somewhat crazy. Laughing and giggling and tripping over each other as Paige hums a melody and Azzi occasionally joins in. It’s ridiculous and corny and cliché and perfect. And then the first little bit of snow falls, white drops circling around the two dancing girls, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes. The dim glow of the streetlight is enough to catch identical smiles on the two girl’s faces as they revel in each other.

“You know some people say if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it’ll come true,” Paige whispers, still waltzing the two of them around, cheek pressed to Azzi’s, “you wanna try?”

And the thing is Azzi doesn’t really believe in all of that, in magic but something about Paige, something about this moment feels magical. It makes a believer out of Azzi.

“Yeah,” Azzi smiles, “let’s make a wish.”

They stand still, holding hands, eyes closed, both a little breathless, as they make their wishes. And when they open them, if it feels a little bit like maybe their wishes have already been granted, well they’ll share it in a secret smile but never out loud. After all, wishes don’t come true if you speak of them.

***

April 2025

7 seconds to go in the National Championship and Azzi’s UCLA Bruins are down by two points. It’s her last chance, having already declared for the 2025 WNBA draft, to win a national championship, to bring home their first basketball national championship since the 1978 team that had won the AIAW championship, to win their first NCAA championship ever. It had taken some sheer luck to get to this point if Azzi’s honest. As a two-seed in the Spokane region, they’d benefitted from their one-seed having been eliminated early and then getting to face a Cinderella six-seed in the final four. On the other side of the bracket, UConn, the favourites coming for a repeat, had been stunned by another team, the team that UCLA was now facing. That had caused a bit of a second-hand sting and Azzi’s not really trying to take revenge for Paige, but it'd be a lie to say the get back at them for me babe from earlier this morning isn’t ringing in her head.

The play is simple, set screens for Azzi, get her open, get her the ball. A two would get them to a tie and three would win it outright. Either will do. It’s a little too reminiscent of last year when Azzi had failed at tying the final 4 game and she can still feel that loss on the tips of her fingers. They break out from their last timeout, breathlessly running to their spots on the floor. The whistle blows, Kiki inbounds the ball and everything is a blur. All Azzi knows is the shot clock is winding down. She runs off of what feels like a million screens. And then she’s open on the wing, for a millisecond. A perfect pass from Kiki makes sure the ball lands straight in Azzi’s hand. And she doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even notice the defender put up a hand, she shoots the ball. There’s two people on the court that know for sure that ball is going in the minute it leaves Azzi’s fingers, the shooter herself and her biggest fan in the stands, who’s been just a little bit in love with that shooting stroke, since before anything else had even begun.

With a delicate swish, the ball falls through the net, the buzzer sounds around the arena, the crowd explodes in blue and gold, as the UCLA Bruins win the 2025 national championship.

Everything stills in Azzi’s brain for a second, her thoughts taking a second to catch up to reality. She’s never really been one to emotion on the court, keeping herself steely guarded through most games, even at the very end. But now, triumph and pride and just utter happiness at finally achieving one of her biggest dreams, comes roaring to the surface, manifesting itself throughout her entire body, as she lets out a scream of joy. Her teammates engulf her and she gets lost in a sea of hugs and tears and bright, decadent smiles.

As thing start to calm down, there’s really only one thing on Azzi’s mind and Paige’s words echo in her ears, because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. And Azzi thinks maybe Paige had discovered one of the biggest truths of their life with that, the truth that at the end of day, in any moment, big or small, happy or sad, the one person Azzi wants next to her, is her Paige. It’s been that way since she was fourteen, and too young to really understand the meaning of wanting someone forever, and she thinks if she has her way, it’ll be like that for the rest of her life, the rest of their life.

Paige is beaming in the crowd, standing next to Jon and José, a #35 jersey proudly adorning her torso. She waves when she catches Azzi’s eyes, always her biggest cheerleader. And Azzi throws caution to the wind, fuck it, not caring that there’s still a large crowd or that cameras are likely to follow her every move. She pushes her way into the stands, stopping right in front of the blonde.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless.

A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”

Azzi grins before merging their lips together and everything else fades to the background, until she’s consumed by nothing but Paige. They break apart far quicker than either of them would like and Azzi expects to feel just a little bit of fear at what she’s just done, likely given the media a spectacle they could run a million and one stories about but instead, with her forehead still pressed against Paige’s, she feels nothing but calm.

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi whispers and Paige’s eyes widen. They’ve known it for a while now but it’s the first time either of them have said it.

“Say it again,” Paige demands.

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi says again, grinning so hard, she thinks it might become her permanent expression, “like really fucking in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispers, pulling Azzi into a bone-crushing hug.

And this might not be the moment where everything finally comes together. There’s still so much life left to live, so much that they still need to work through, so much they’ve yet to deal with. But for now, Azzi has a national championship and she has the love of her life, the rest will work itself out, or so she hopes.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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multific · 1 year ago

Text

His Queen

Jon Snow x Reader

Warnings: murder, blood, witchcraft

Summary: As a last attempt to defeat Jon Snow, the Kings and Lords gather for a meeting, during the meeting an idea comes up in order to defeat Snow.

A/N: This story doesn't follow the story of the series/books.

“The King in the North has started to reach our borders. He is a threat to us.”

The Kings and Lords looked between one another.

"Jon Snow is nothing but a bastard. We can crush him easily." said one.

"I think you forget that the last party you sent to kill him, he easily defeated." replied another.

Everyone began to murmur between themselves when a Lord came up with the idea.

"Let us kill his wife. He holds her so near and dear if he was to lose her, he would surely crumble." everyone stayed quiet.

"His wife... is a witch. My men had seen her, while she is a beauty, she holds powers, powers not even a dragon could win against."

"I will send my men, my best, to kill her. We will come up with a plan which for sure will work. Witch or not."

"Didn't someone try to poison her before?" another King spoke up as a Lord nodded.

"Yes, she drank the poison and wasn't even phased by it. I'm telling you all, it is a bad idea to go after her."

But of course, no one listened.

Ten men were sent for Jon Snow's wife.

At the time they didn't know, but none would return.

---

Mornings like these were always your absolute favourites. With your husband still in bed next to you, you played with the ends of his hair.

You smiled to yourself as he moved just a little in his sleep.

Soon, Jon woke up as he moved to lay on his back, you moved to his chest as he let out a soft sigh. The fur now pooled around his waist as your hand ran up his chest.

"Good morning." you said with a soft voice, not quite ready to get up just yet.

"Morning, My Goddess." you smirked as his fingers began to roam your naked back.

He never opened his eyes as you just kept staring at him.

"Our Kingdom is growing, this will come with many enemies." you said.

"More than what we already have?" came his reply with a yawn.

"If they only knew that the King of the North is this lazy. It is almost mid-morning and you still refuse to wake."

"It is my wife's fault. She kept me up all night." you smiled as he finally opened his eyes, looking at you with nothing but pure love and admiration. "What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly his eyes filled with worry upon seeing your expression.

"The wind came with bad news, people are brewing a plan against you."

"You and your powers, My Love... what is the worry this time? A coupe? To kill me? A trap for my armies?"

"Men had been sent to kill me. I can deal with them, once know who they are. Please, Jon, much like before, we act as we don't know."

"Of course," he nodded. "As always, oblivious. Do you know how many?" you shook your head, no.

"I hope, I pray to the Goddess that one day we won't face such dangers. That our children won't have to grow up in fear." you said as Jon sat up, you followed suit, holding the fur to your chest.

He smiled.

"You always speak of children, I like it when you do that. It gives me hope, a reason to fight for a future."

You smiled right back before kissing him.

Oh, yes, mornings like these were your favourites.

---

Staying away from Jon was something you didn't really like to do.

You prefer to stay with him at all times but you understood that he had duties and so did you.

You looked after the young wolves and cared for the pups who were left without a mother after the war.

The feeling of dread didn't leave you.

Ever since you woke up, you had this feeling, and you knew better than to ignore your instincts.

Your life was in danger as always but now, you won't be merciful.

Last time, it was during your wedding when they tried to poison you. You drank the wine without a problem but the taste of iron never left your mouth. You chose not to speak, Jon only was told years after.

You decided not to tell him because you feared his reaction.

But now, after the wars, after the many lost lives, you were ready for anything.

Their first try came while you were taking your daily bath. One dared to barge in with a sword, trying to kill you. But the man's fate wasn't fortunate.

When Jon heard the news that you have been attacked he was furious. But the scene he saw when he entered the bath wasn't what he expected.

The man now laid, with his head by his lifeless body, his blood filled the bath which you still occupied.

"I'm almost done." you said with the calmest tone Jon had ever heard.

There was something about you, in a bath of blood that just turned Jon on beyond belief. He had seen you covered in blood before, but somehow, this was different.

That night as you two got ready for bed and he finally joined you, you just said "There are more of them." which made Jon nod, he knew you would take care of yourself, but he will also have to look out for himself.

The second and the third man wanted to take no chances. One watched by the door while the other ran into the library to kill you.

But when everything inside went quiet the other man also emerged from the door and was met with the same fate.

Both dead, surrounded by symbols drawn with their own blood. It scared the servants, even some knights found themselves to be scared by the drawings.

But not Jon, never Jon.

He simply entered the room and kiss you on the lips.

Seven men were left. All of which decided to catch you at night. First, they found out that the King was occupied and they all hurried to your chambers.

But instead of meeting with a sleeping Queen, you have been waiting for them. The door locked behind them and only their screams were heard in the night.

No one dared to approach the chambers. No one dared to open the door.

Jon arrived again, seeing the blood seeping out from behind the door, he opened it and saw a scene that almost made him throw up.

All bodies were kneeling around you in a circle. Kneeling, holding their own heads in their hands as you sat in the middle of them, he wasn't sure if you were praying.

"Darling?" he asked, knowing better than to cross any lines. Knowing the powers you were often playing with.

You looked at him, familiar eyes staring at him as he knelt down to your eye level.

"Let's go to bed in another room." he suggested and you agreed.

Of course, your loving husband avenged the attacks against you.

In his eyes, no matter if you were never injured, he saw these attacks as an attack on him, because they were.

And Jon never took lightly to harm against you. He would never stop at anything when it came to you. Even if he wasn't king.

Jon Snow would never let anyone take you from him, you were his.

His Love.

His Wife.

His Queen.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

#Jon Snow x Reader #Jon Snow #Jon Snow x you #Jon Snow imagine #Jon Snow x fem reader #Jon Snow x female reader #jon snow x y/n #Jon Snow imagines #Jon Snow got #game of thrones #game of thrones au #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #Game of thrones Jon Snow #john snow #x fem reader #x witch reader #witch au

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jiminniethemarshmallow · 1 year ago

Text

Bragging Rights (M)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader x Jungkook

Genre: Smut

Word count: ~9k

Summary: Jimin and Jungkook are your best friends, which means they trust you to judge all of their stupid little contests. It just so happens that their contest this time is to see who is better at sex. And you’re the neutral party.

Warnings: Pwp, Threesome (No Jimin x Jk), oral (m & f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, slight dom!Jk and dom!Jimin, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), penetrative sex, creampie, sloppy seconds, I’m going to hell

(A/N): Jungkook has been fucking everyone up recently so I wanted to do something with him in it. I left the ending open ended so you get to choose who won in the end (though I personally think Jungkook won) so I hope you all have fun reading! Enjoy~

You have always been able to expect the antics of your best friends. Though you can never predict what they’ll do next, it’s never a surprise as everything is just par for the course at this point. Except for this.

Your jaw lay strewn about the floor alongside the last of their brain cells apparently, your sanity shattering with one question.

“Would you be willing to fuck both of us?“ the question came from a shameless Jungkook, who is known for saying out of pocket shit without context. But this goes beyond anything you’ve experienced before. He says this like it’s the most natural thing in the world, as if he were asking to borrow your phone charger or if you wanted to play video games with them. Jimin chimes in to explain and you hope it’s to say that they were just joking.

“We need someone to judge who’s better at sex and you’re the only neutral party we know.” He also says this candidly, though he has the sense to look at least a little sheepish about it, and you can only stare blankly at the two men, looking between them both with your mouth open. You’re still waiting for someone to laugh.

“You serious?” You finally speak up when the silence becomes too dense, your voice hoarse with disbelief. They nod. It’s not that you wouldn’t fuck them— they were both strikingly attractive— but they’re your best friends. You’re sure this would break every rule about friendship with the opposite sex that there’s ever been. How would you ever be able to hang out with them normally again after knowing what their dicks look like, what they taste like, how it feels to have their hands all over you?

But there’s a large part of you that’s tempted to say yes.

“You can always say no, there’s no pressure,” Jungkook chirps, “but it would really help us settle this argument.” You don’t even want to ask how this started. “Plus! It’ll be good for you too because you haven’t gotten dick in a while. You get your needs met and we get to settle our argument, it’s a win-win!”

“The fuck? Who says I haven’t gotten dick in a while?!” You defend, mouth hanging open for a different reason now.

“You!” Both men respond in unison, forcing you to slouch back into the sofa.

“We can tell you’ve been horny by the way you’ve been eye fucking every man that walks by, don’t try to deny it. You should know we know you better than that by now.” Crossing his arms, Jimin calls you out and you can’t even say anything because he’s right. Dammit, they do know you well.

“It’s not my fault Baekhyun is out of town for the month.” You mutter under your breath, referencing your friend with benefits that they hear about often. “Fine, you caught me. I’m horny as fuck-“

“Great, so it’s settled! You’ll fuck us?” Jungkook cuts in.

“I never said that. I’m horny as fuck but I’m not that horny to throw away our friendship over a stupid argument between you idiots.” It sounds like you want to say more so they wait, but when nothing follows Jimin speaks up.

“Well can you at least think about it? It won’t change anything on our end, we promise.”

“Sure I’ll think about it, but don’t be surprised if the answer is still no.” They both nod, accepting that answer for now, and you call them over to the couch to play Mario Kart to take your mind off things.

A few hours later, however, you find out just how weak you are.

You were absolutely wrong. You are that horny. You’ve been wet ever since they proposed the idea to you and it’s only getting worse. They sandwich you between their bodies on your small loveseat, their body heat engulfing you in flames that you can’t escape no matter how much you shift around. They don’t try to persuade you any more than their initial proposition, at least not intentionally. You keep catching glimpses of them shifting their legs, the gray and black sweatpants Jungkook and Jimin sport, respectively, not helping your situation as you keep seeing the outlines of their dicks through the thin material. Everywhere they touch you is burning hot, your elbows, your thighs, your shoulders, and you begin breaking into a sweat. The grunts and sighs that come from Jungkook when he makes a mistake or falls behind in the game make your heart skip, your brain going into overdrive imagining the sounds he would make for you if he were to have his way with you. Jimin isn’t much better, letting his hand drape across your thigh when you throw a leg over his to try to cool down a bit. He’s not doing anything that he wouldn’t usually do, this is common for the three of you, but now you can’t stop thinking about how it would feel if he moved his hand just a bit higher, slipping them under your shorts…

“Yes!!” You shout as you manage to win the last race by some miracle. You come in second overall, an NPC getting the first slot, but you’re better than both of them at Mario Cart and that’s all that matters. Jungkook comes third and has a pout on his lips, upset that he had been winning the entire time but was caught by 3 shells in the last race which took his ranking down below yours. You hop up from the couch, fidgety and flustered, claiming that you need to go to the bathroom, and when you return, you find both men manspreading on the coach looking down at their phones. Your eyes immediately shoot to their crotches, nearly drooling at the ache that forms in your core.

“Need something?” Jimin asks, catching you redhanded with a smirk. He’s so fucking cocky you want to scream, but more prominent is the urge to get down on your knees in front of him and choke yourself on his cock like this view is choking you now. You can hardly breathe, let alone come up with a response.

“I- I-“

“Take your time.” He goads, getting the proper reaction from you as you feel your skin start to prick with heat and annoyance. Jungkook joins in by spreading his legs just a little wider, a shit eating grin on his lips as well.

“You guys are the worst,” Finally you spit out a sentence and plop down between them, head in hands. “So why am I seriously considering this?” You mumble out, voice muffled by your hands but they hear it all the same.

“Really?!” They perk up at this, dark brown hair atop their heads flopping over their eyes, and when Jungkook shakes his head to flip it off of his forehead you nearly wet yourself. Jimin chooses to brush his hair away with his fingers and that snaps the last of your reservations.

You decide to ask one more time for good measure, though you couldn’t care less at this point. “Are you sure this won’t change anything between us?”

The two men think for a moment, looking at each other for certainty before reassuring you that it wouldn’t.

“Plus, we already know you basically sold your pussy to Baekhyun by now, we don’t have a chance in hell to do this again once he gets back.” You know what Jungkook means, but he makes you sound like a prostitute when he says it like that.

“Ew don’t say it like that! And he doesn’t own me, I can do whatever and whoever I want.” Crossing your arms in defiance, you try your hardest to make it seem convincing, but they clearly don’t believe you. Although, Baekhyun’s spot might be threatened once you go through with this.

“Yeah right.” Jimin quips, rolling his eyes, and Jungkook chuckles at that. Then the two of them close in on you.

“So are we doing this?” The younger one asks, imploring with innocently wide eyes as if he were asking for a cup of juice and not a threesome with his best friends. You turn away from his stare out of embarrassment, only to be met with Jimin’s equally innocent eyes, so you divert your own gaze to the floor to keep the remnants of your sanity intact.

“I guess we are,” you mutter out, but that isn’t good enough for them.

“Nuh uh, we need a clear ‘yes’ from you if you want this.” A hand reaches out to grab your chin, and you’re suddenly faced with Jimin again, his dark eyes no longer innocent. It steals the breath from your lungs and you have to swallow the nervous lump in your throat to get your answer out.

“Y-yes, I want this.” You say this as loudly as your voice would allow (which isn’t very loud) and a satisfied grin plasters itself on your best friend’s angelic face.

Without replying, Jimin leans forward and kisses your cheek, measuring your reaction with eyes that search your face for any sign of discomfort. But instead he finds that you are more than willing to go through with this, your eyes begging for his lips, so he happily obliges. Claiming your mouth as his own, Jimin kisses you senseless, taking the lead by sucking your bottom lip between his own, and you moan at the action. It’s sloppy and passionate in a way that makes it feel like he’s been waiting to kiss you like this forever, and you find yourself losing your breath rapidly. Hands find your midsection and you suddenly remember Jungkook on the other side of you, leaning forward to leave a trail of kisses on your upper back and shoulders, pulling at the spaghetti straps of your tank top.

Jimin finally pulls back to breathe, allowing you to turn to face the younger man, and immediately you can see the urgency in his eyes once you’re facing him. His hands are creeping up your shirt, exploring your soft abdomen, and the ticklish feeling has you smiling a goofy smile. He smiles back, taking the material of your shirt into his hands and lifting, and your shirt hits the floor in no time flat. That’s when both boys realize that 1. you’ve forgone a bra and 2. You have the most beautiful breasts they have ever seen. The cool air of your living room causes your nipples to harden and you shiver, not only from the cold but from their hungry stares as they devour you with their eyes.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook whispers, hand already reaching to hold one of your breasts in his tattooed hand.

“You have the prettiest tits ever.” Jimin compliments, taking the other in his hand as well. The men adjust themselves to get a better view of you as they push you further back into your seat, nodding once to each other before diving in to leave kisses and bruises all over your chest. Jimin goes for your nipple immediately, licking over the bud with a gentle tongue before using his teeth to scrap over the sensitive skin, the contrast making you moan out loud in honest for the first time. He does it again, then again, adding in bites and sucks until your core is throbbing with anticipation for what he’ll do once he gets between your legs.

Jungkook focuses on every area around your nipple, avoiding the area entirely with his mouth and making you ache to feel him on the bud. He sucks loudly on your skin, marking you with teeth and tongue, making slobbery trails of saliva that cool and send goosebumps in their wake once he pulls back. He uses the tip of his tongue to trace circles around your areola, the heat of his breath around your nipple making your eyes squeeze shut in hopes that he’ll take mercy on you and close his lips around the bundle of nerves, giving it the same treatment that Jimin is showing you on the other side. Mind hazy and pussy fluttering, you’re startled when Jimin pulls back to remind you what they’re doing this for.

“Remember (Y/n), you’re supposed to be judging us on who does a better job.” He chides, noticing you lost in pleasure and not thinking about a single thing.

“Oh, sorry, let me just stop enjoying myself and take notes on a notepad instead.” You quip back at him, irritated that he’s stopped his ministrations on your chest. Jungkook snorts at this, still teasing you. There’s absolutely no way for you to be clinical about this, that much is apparent by how good it feels to have two men attending to you at the same time, your mind already blank and they haven’t even moved past your tits yet.

“I’m just saying, keep that in mind.” Jimin snickers, licking a path from nipple to collarbone to neck, ending with a mind numbing suckle to your pulse point, and just when you thought it couldn’t get much better, Jungkook finally closes his mouth on your nipple, sucking in varying intensities all while flicking his tongue around the bead. You gasp, unsure of who is doing the better job, and you feel like you’re about to explode. But all too soon, as if they can sense you enjoying yourself a bit too much, the men pull away and leave you cold and shaking, topless and exposed on your own couch.

“So, who gets the first point?” Kookie asks, smirking as if he’s already won.

“Point? I didn’t know we were doing a points system?” Gathering your thoughts, you clear your throat and try to bring yourself back to reality. They wanted you to score them? This was going to be tough.

“Yeah, how else would we figure out who’s better? The one with the most points at the end wins and gets bragging rights.” Jimin explains smartly, making you roll your eyes at the sassiness you sense from him.

“So?” They say in unison, looking at you intently. Your hands reach up to cup your chest in response to the coolness they left there as you frown in thought.

“Umm, I really liked Jimin’s technique, but Jungkook wins this round.” You state after some thought, resolving not to think about it too hard so they would hurry up and continue pleasuring you. “I liked how he teased me, it made me want him to touch me so badly that when it actually happened, I nearly creamed my shorts.” He smiles triumphantly at your praise, Jimin nodding his head in acceptance while mentally noting that you like to be teased. Then it’s on to the next round.

The next round takes place in the bedroom, Jimin having announced this loudly while Jungkook swooped down to throw you over his shoulder like a rag doll and carried you to your bed. Now you lay in the center of your queen sized mattress, shorts and panties missing from your body while both men stand with raging erections as they examine you from the foot of the bed. Licking his lips, Jungkook asks who gets to eat you out first and you feel your clit throb. Wordlessly, they both look at each other before each putting out a fist and playing Rock Paper Scissors without hesitation.

“Be so fucking serious right now.” You say in disbelief, unable to believe how you were convinced to have sex with these two dorks. You must have been really horny because looking at them now you’re broken out of the haze of lust and can see that they’re still your goofy best friends, the only people you know who would play Rock Paper Scissors in front of a girl they were about to fuck while she literally lay naked and waiting for them. Jungkook wins the game and does a little dance at his victory, hopping onto the bed suddenly and pushing your legs open. You let out a bit of a yelp at his quick movements, Jimin being much more graceful on his way to take a seat next to your head, moving you so that your head rests on his muscular thigh.

Unlike how he treated your nipple, Jungkook wastes no time attacking your core, using his entire tongue to spread you open, parting your folds and drinking down your leaking essence. He groans at the taste, dipping back down for more, and you shudder at the sensation of his wet muscle circling your entrance. Though the young man is good at everything, you aren’t incredibly impressed by his performance, unfortunately. The whole time he spent down there was wasted on him licking your folds, sucking at your lips and completely missing your clit. The time he did spend on your clit was rushed even though you reacted dramatically when his tongue did brush the bud, and in the end you had to tell him to do what he did on your nipple to your clit for him to catch on that that’s what you wanted. When he did get to what you wanted, however, your legs shook from how good it felt. Jungkook has a very dexterous tongue you’ve discovered, very impressed with its flicking and circling speeds as he finally paid special attention to your most sensitive areas. He adds a finger, then two, pumping them in a out quickly in pace with his tongue, and you let out a loud moan when he gives you a nice suck to your clit, the finale to his show. He pulls back with a sigh, face wet and red and you are left craving, wanting more than he gave you. From the looks of it, he enjoyed the experience marginally more than you did, the large protrusion and wet spot in the front of his sweats giving you the idea that he wanted to eat you out more for his sake than yours. Then Jimin swoops in to the rescue.

He must have seen the slightly annoyed look on your face because when he moves to change spots with Jungkook he gives you a quick peck on the cheek to smooth your frown and chuckles in a way that tells you not to worry. You’re excited this time, looking up at the older man with pleading eyes that are swimming with lust. You lock eyes and the look he gives you is a promise that not only will he make you feel good, but that you’ll cum. You raise an eyebrow as a challenge and he just smirks down at you in response.

“You think you can beat that?” Kookie asks in cocky fashion, clearly feeling good about himself despite his very average performance. Jimin begins his descent down your body, kissing every plane and crevice from your neck down.

“I know I can do better.” He mumbles against your skin, looking incredibly focused on making you feel good.

“I doubt you can make her shake the way I just did, but I’d like to see you try.” Since winning the first round clearly has gone to his head, Jimin resolves to knock him down a peg and let him see what true skill looks like. It’s been over a full minute and he’s still kissing around your thighs, biting on sensitive skin so close to your lips and soothing it with his tongue, kissing the edge of your outer lips and blowing air on your core in a way that makes your thighs tremble around his head. Jimin looks up at his friend when you shake for him as if checking to see if he were watching, using his eyes to say that he made you shake without even touching you. “Whatever,” the younger male says with a roll of his eyes. “She’s only shaking because I got her wound up.”

“Kookie, shut the fuck up.” Your last word comes out as a groan as Jimin finally gives you what you wanted, taking your clit into his mouth and licking around it in a torturously slow oval. The way you moan has both men humming, Jimin grinding his bulge into the edge of the bed. Beside you, Jungkook has his hands down his pants, presumably gripping the now painful erection he sports with his lip locked between his teeth as he watches you get eaten out by his best friend.

Returning your attention to Jimin, you look down to see him watching you, drawing more circles around your bud just to watch you tremble, your hips grinding into him when he refuses to speed up. Occasionally his tongue dips down to taste you, dragging your wetness up from your entrance to your bud, just for it to drip back down again and slide between your ass onto the sheets below. He uses his lips alongside his tongue, dragging the plush pillows against your nub, kissing and sucking between long strokes of his tongue. Then, two of his fingers enter you and you see stars. He curls the fingers expertly into the spongy spot a couple inches into your opening, rubbing against the area repeatedly in time with his mouth and you feel your toes flex and curl. Your voice breaks and you let out another surprisingly loud moan, eyes rolling in your head and Jimin speeds up against your clit. When you continue to moan, he comes up with an idea.

“Kook, can you quiet her down a little?” He asks, and you would be offended by the phrasing if it didn’t feel so good to have him rubbing right into that spot inside you. You’re cursing now, legs lifted higher than before to give Jimin more access, not paying attention to the man beside you who inches closer and raises to his knees. Something hard and fleshy taps you on your cheek, and you open your closed eyes to see Jungkook has slipped his pants down and is kneeling with his cock just inches from your face. Your eyes focus in on his member, both thick and long, and you’re sure Jimin can feel how you clench around his fingers at the sight. His balls are tight and pink, just begging to be sucked, and you find your mouth watering at the prospect.

“Open.” Jungkook instructs, gruff voice prompting you to action. You open your mouth and immediately he slips inside, salty and musky taste invading your tongue in he best way possible. Jimin picks up speed with his fingers, pumping in and out while hooked on that one spot and you can’t help but moan around Jungkook’s cock, barely sucking because of how good Jimin is making you feel. His mouth is relentless and you try to match his pace by bobbing your head to his rhythm, earning a groan from Jungkook. His dick twitches in your mouth when you go deeper, sucking in your cheeks on your way up, and fuck you’ve never felt this good before. Not only is Jimin’s consistent attack on your clit building you up to a great orgasm, but Jungkook is making those wonderful sounds you thought of hearing earlier and it’s music to your ears. “God, your mouth feels so good.” He praises, a hand on the back of your head to guide you when you start to fall out of rhythm as your praise kink kicks into overdrive.

Pushing yourself to your limits, you try deep throating his dick, pressing your face into his pubic bone until his head slips past your gag reflex and he lets out a moan that rivals your own in volume, just as Jimin suctions his lips around your clit. You choke, Jungkook pulling back to allow you to breathe, and he can see the way your eyelids flutter and cross as Jimin works you with his fingers and mouth, no longer pumping in and out but now curling back and forth against that spongy area as he flicks as fast as he can against your bud. The stimulation is close to what your vibrator feels like and suddenly your breaths become labored, panting and moaning, squeezing around his fingers as he builds you up higher and higher. You’re riding his face now at this point, grinding into him messily until you can’t take it anymore.

You hold your breath for the climax and it comes crashing into you.

Hot waves of lava seem to flow through your veins as your orgasm seizes your body, taking control and making you shake and squirm in their hold. Jungkook’s hands roam your upper body, fingertips spreading the fire along your skin with every touch. Jimin stills his fingers to give you broad licks, savoring the way that each stroke causes your legs to jerk and twitch. Fingers find your nipples and give them a gentle twist and you aren’t sure whose hands they are but the way they massage the pebbles has your walls clenching in another wave of pleasure. Taking a few deep breaths, you try to compose yourself, eyes closed and watering, skin hot to the touch. When you open your eyes, you find both men staring at you.

“That was so fucking hot.” Jungkook gapes. You close your eyes again and place a hand on your chest, trying to slow your breathing.

“She’s such a good girl, isn’t she? Cumming for us like that.” Jimin teases, kissing up your thighs and hips. You clench at his praise, the fingers still inside you feeling the contractions. “Oh- I felt that.” Devilish smirk slithering its way onto his lips, Jimin retracts his fingers from you to climb his way up your body. “Does our sweet baby girl have a praise kink?”

“M-Maybe,” you mumble, averting your eyes. Jimin presents his cum soaked fingers to you and places them on your lips, pulling your attention back to him as you open your mouth to suck in the digits.

“I swear you get hotter by the second,” Kookie chimes, looking at you with twinkling eyes.

As soon as his fingers are clean, Jimin pops them out of your mouth and swoops down for a kiss, shoving his tongue against yours to taste the cream you’ve accumulated there, and you feel yourself drip even more down your ass. When he pulls back you watch him lick his lips, savoring the taste.

“So,” Jimin starts, already sporting a shit eating grin. “Care to tell us who won the second round?”

“You.” You say without hesitation. “You did. Fuck, you made me cum so hard.” You whine, rubbing your thighs together as you sit up to be eye level with the two. They look back at you, anticipation filling their blown pupils. “Now, will somebody please fuck me?”

“Sure, who do you want first?” Jimin asks, stripping from his sweats and shirt, and your mouth waters at the sight of him in only his boxers. You find your eyes locked on his body, anticipating the moment when his cock is revealed to you as he puts on a little strip tease, pushing down the waistband as slowly as humanly possible. But once his member pops out of its confines you let out a groan, beholding the most beautiful dick you’ve ever seen. It’s flushed a pretty peach color with the perfect mushroom head on top. The thick shaft tapers slightly toward the head and its skin looks so smooth and velvety that you’re tempted to rub him right between your folds just to feel how soft it is.

“I’m giving Jimin a point for having a pretty dick.” You blurt, unable to tear your eyes away from him. His grin grows into a full blown smile and you hear Jungkook’s sounds of protest beside you before he’s stealing your attention back.

“Oh yeah? Well how about this?” He stands, pants pulled up to their original position you notice, and you wonder what he’s got up his sleeve. Your mouth runs dry when you see what he has planned: a full strip tease show.

Starting with his top, he raises the bottom of his shirt inch by inch so you can appreciate each and every one of his flexed ab muscles, the lines between each one making him look like a chocolate bar that you can’t wait to devour. Next to be exposed are his pecs, the hard muscles there tensing as he crosses his arms above head, pulling the shirt off fully and throwing it to the ground. His nipples stand pebbled into beads on his chest and all you can think about is taking one between your teeth just to see him squirm, knowing just how sensitive they are on him. As if to demonstrate this point, Jungkook uses his fingers to pinch at the buds, and you see the jump of his erection in the confines of his pants when he does. He rolls his neck, showing off the delicate skin there that you wish you could litter with marks but all you can do at the moment is sit there and stare while licking your lips like a hungry cat. When his hands finally skim down his washboard abs to his bulged sweatpants you’re panting like a dog, eager for him to reveal himself to you again and let you feast your eyes on him in all his glory, despite already having had him in your mouth today. But you didn’t get a chance to fully admire him at that time with Jimin’s head between your thighs, so you feel validated in wanted to see him again so badly. He runs his hands over the clear protrusion in his pants, squeezing himself to make the outline of his dick pop out to you, and you find yourself gulping like a fish out of water. Jimin fakes a gag out of the corner of your eye but you choose to ignore him.

“Should I take these off?” Jungkook purrs in a sultry voice, causing you to gush all down your thighs at the way his baritone vibrates through your body. You can only nod.

“Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!” Jimin chants, now seated beside you to watch the show just to mock his junior, and just for the fun of it you join in, cheering like you’re at a strip club when Jungkook’s fingers finally hook in the waistband of his Calvin Klein’s. He pulls them down quickly, his bottom half exposed so fast that it causes his cock to bounce and you nearly bark at how feral the sight makes you.

“Another point to Kookie for the strip tease,” you announce, now hot and bothered from all the teasing. The scores are now tied again. “Now will somebody, anybody please stick their dick in me before I combust? A girl can only wait so long.”

“Getting desperate are we?” Chuckles Jimin, dark and mischievous.

“Yes, I’m so wet right now that I feel like I’m going to drown if I’m not fucked within the next minute.” You pout, making your best friends laugh.

Jungkook still stands at the foot of the bed, languidly pumping his length up and down and your eyes catch on his slick tip, leaking enough to let you know that he’s getting impatient too. A glance down at Jimin’s member reveals the same thing, a stream of precum dribbling down his twitching length that sits prettily between his thick thighs. He cranes his neck forward to kiss you on your pouted lips, and you sink into the bed, pulling him on top of you. He catches himself with his arms, staring down at your wanting figure.

“You get to fuck me first since Kookie got to eat me out first.” A groan comes from said man, his head thrown back in frustration, hand speeding up on his shaft yet intentionally avoiding the head. “Don’t complain, you’ll get your chance.” You assure him, returning your attention to Jimin to kiss him again. His tongue slips into your mouth and clashes with your own, exploring your mouth and leaving you breathless. You have no idea how long you spend kissing him, but you’ll have to remember to give him a point for being a good kisser when you can finally pull away. Before you can pull yourself away from him, however, you feel his tip at your entrance rubbing back and forth, slicking himself before pushing in slowly, his pillowy lips muffling the long moan you let out.

He breaks away to pant, “You’re still on birth control, right?” And you let out a huff.

“It’s a little late to ask, idiot.” Jungkook points out, positioned so he can get the perfect view of your pussy being stretched around Jimin’s thick cock.

“Yeah I am, don’t worry about it.” You breathe, bucking your hips up to tell him you want him to move. He starts up a pace that has you gasping, surprised by how easily he hits your sensitive spots with his girth, and he has you moaning your pleasure in no time. You’re sure he can feel how wet you are, the sounds of wetness and slapping getting louder as he fucks the slick out of you with every harsh thrust, making his shaft so slippery that you’re sure he’s going to slip out every time he pulls back. But he stays inside, hips skillful and practiced as he drives into your tight entrance. You don’t think you’ve had anyone as thick as him before and the thought of him stretching you out around himself makes you squeeze even tighter, causing him to groan out.

“Don’t squeeze like that, I’m already close.” Jimin’s voice comes out strained as his balls slap against your ass, his face saying that he’s telling the truth, and you hear a laugh.

“Already?! Seriously, hyung?” The youngest gapes, though you suspect he’s probably glad that his turn is coming sooner than expected. He’s stopped touching himself and his cock is now half soft, though it still jumps every now and again as he watches Jimin fuck you even harder.

“Shut up, I almost blew my load when she came on my tongue so I’m lucky we even got this far.” Jimin grunts, pounding into you. He pauses to lift one of your legs onto his shoulder, working a pillow under your hips and the new angle makes you mewl. Static electricity flows through your veins every time he pushes into you, aiming right at that spot and you feel your clit swelling with pressure from how good it feels.

“C-can I touch myself?” You ask softly, though you’re not sure exactly where that came from. But now you’ve reignited the dominant side of Jimin and he changes right before your eyes.

“Mm, aren’t you such a good girl, asking permission.” He moans, hips picking up speed. “Should I let her, Jungkook?”

The younger man shifts in his position to get a better view before answering. “Yeah, I bet she’d look so good doing it.” He groans, eyes locked on you. He’s devouring you with his gaze, taking in everything from your facial expression and your bouncing breasts to the way your slick covers Jimin’s shaft every time he pulls out. It makes you hot being watched like this and you never thought you’d enjoy it so much. Having a spectator makes you feel sexy in a way you didn’t think possible.

“You heard him, baby. Touch yourself.” Leaning back so you have access to your swollen clit, Jimin slows his pace just slightly as you reach down and touch yourself. At first contact you shiver, still sensitive from the previous orgasm you had. The first circle you press into the bud has you clenching down on him again, and this time he has to stop and grip onto your hips to keep control. Immediately you pull your hand back, not wanting him to cum so soon, but he shakes his head at you.

“I didn’t tell you to stop. Keep going.” He pants, both men now staring down at you with predatory gazes. Humming, you continue, slicking your fingers with the mess around his base and rubbing it into your clit at a satisfying speed. To be watched while you masturbate awakens a new kink of yours and you bask in the way your boys practically water at the mouth while looking at you. Jimin starts moving again and each drag of his cock sends sparks up your nerves like live wire, the movements making you that much more sensitive beneath your fingertips. Your eyes start to roll as he times his hips with your flicking. He switches to grinding motions and you moan, loving how you can feel his leaking tip massaging deep within you. “Fuck, I’m going to cum.” Jimin gasps, snapping into you with renewed vigor.

“I want you to cum inside me!” You whine, feeling him harden even more inside you. Your other leg finds its way up on his shoulder and you allow him to pound into you with all his strength, his ab muscles flexing as he works himself in and out of you.

“Yeah, you want it?” He asks, looping his arms around both of your legs. All you can do is nod before he’s fucking into you ferociously, his grunts and groans of pleasure mixing with yours until you can’t tell who is louder. Fingers leaving your core, you hold onto his muscular thighs for dear life as he delivers devastating thrust after devastating thrust, jolting your entire body up the bed at a stuttering rhythm. Then, you feel him still briefly and gasp, his balls on your ass tightening and pulsing as he shoots into you, filling you to the brim with his hot cum. His hips jerk as he soars through his orgasm, spurred on by the way you clench your walls and moan his name because you just love seeing him lost in pleasure like this. It makes you even wetter, and combined with his overflowing semen, you’re a leaking mess.

Jimin gives you a sloppy kiss as the vestiges of his high leave him, pulling himself free from your gripping core to look down at his masterpiece. Jungkook peers over his shoulder to have a look and you take this opportunity to give them a show, bearing down on your pelvic muscles to push out the white substance Jimin so carefully planted inside you. It oozes out of you, mixing with the cream smeared around your lips and you feel it begin to drip down your ass as you continue to push. The sight nearly knocks both men off their feet, the older of the two visibly drooling at the visual of his cum leaking from your tight pussy, evidence of how good you made him feel and the amazing orgasm you gave him. It’s almost enough to get him hard again.

The younger of the men is also enthralled by the sight, mouth agape and eyes wide, leaning in ever closer to get a better look at your drooling lips. Jungkook never thought he’d be one to take another man’s sloppy seconds, but when it’s you and Jimin he feels differently about the situation. And that feeling surprises him because in this moment he wants nothing more than to stick his dick in you and use Jimin’s sperm as lube to help you both reach your highs. So that’s exactly what he does. Nearly pushing Jimin out of the way, Jungkook flips you without warning, pressing your face into the pillows and guiding your hips up into position, manhandling you in a way that makes him even sexier. You never had a strength kink before, but when Jungkook throws you around like this you can’t help but ache between your thighs for him. You’re discovering a lot about yourself tonight.

“Gonna fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” He promises in a mumble, lining himself up with your glistening hole. The first thing he notices is how slippery it is when he pushes in, Jimin’s cum coating his cock and making it easy to slip inside your walls. He bottoms out effortlessly despite how tight you are, hips flush against your ass and fingers dimpling your skin from how hard he grips your ass. Jungkook swears he could cum right this second, but he’s too determined to fuck you into oblivion to have it end so soon so he holds off. But he has to admit, being inside you is an experience he never thought he’d get to have, so his mind is in a daze as his hips start to move.

You’re not fairing much better, thoughts cloudy from his long cock reaching so far into you at this angle that you think you can feel him in your throat. He smacks into your cervix every time he slams into you, but the slight pain only adds to the pleasure after the first few strokes. The arch in your back gradually lessens as Jungkook fucks the living shit out of you, your ass slapping against his hips so loudly that you’re sure your neighbors will be filing a noise complaint, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when you feel his large palms at the small of your back, pushing down to deepen that curve and open you up for him. Ungodly nosies are coming from you as he fucks you at a relentless pace, taut muscles rippling behind you as he uses his strength to wreck you.

“Mm, look at how she’s gripping the sheets, Kookie. I think you might break her.” Jimin comments with a chuckle, spent and a relaxing on the bed next to you.

“Nah she can take it. Isn’t that right (Y/n)?” Jungkook asks, not slowing his pace a bit to give you a second to breathe. You struggle to answer, gasping and moaning as he fucks you dumb on your bed, your toes curling being your only response. When he doesn’t get a verbal answer, the man behind you lands a harsh smack to your ass then grips it in his hands, spreading your pussy lips apart with his thumbs to watch himself go in and out, in and out. “Answer me.”

“Yes, I can take it!” You squeal, stuffing your face in a pillow to contain the sounds escaping you.

“Good girl.” The growl that releases from deep in his throat has your legs shaking, your walls contracting as the vibrations from the sound travel up your insides. “I love feeling you squeeze around me. I could fuck this cunt all day long.” Moaning, he closes his eyes, throwing his head back in bliss.

The grip on your hips tightens painfully before it vanishes completely, and you only have a split second to wonder what happened before another hard slap rings out, this time both of his hands landing on your ass. Both men watch as your cheeks jiggle, still rippling with the impact of his hips, and you faintly hear them groan in unison with your high pitched squeak. After a series of several more untamed thrusts, however, Jungkook pulls out, leaving you cold and empty.

“Turn around.” He orders sharply, barely getting through the haze of your mind. “Let me see that pretty face.”

This snaps you out of your fog and you follow his order shakily, plopping down on your back only to be snatched to the edge of the bed by your legs. You let out a short scream, surprised by the sudden display of his monstrous strength as he positions your legs how he wants, pushing them back against your chest and inserting himself in one long stroke. Your eyes roll before peering up at him, innocent and wanting, and he throbs inside of you at the image, praising you just how you deserve.

“There she is,” he smiles, languidly moving his hips in slow thrusts just so you feel every inch of him. “Look at how sexy she is, hyung. Looking at me with those beautiful eyes while she’s taking my cock. You think she deserves another orgasm?”

“I think she does.” Jimin consents, scooting closer to massage your breasts. His nimble fingers squeeze at your nipple, causing you to mewl as Jungkook picks up the pace. “Let’s see if you have what it takes to make her cum again.” The older of the two challenges, grinning when he sees the tick of Jungkook’s jaw at his doubt.

“Watch and fucking learn, hyung.” Is all he has to say before the competitive man is ramming into you again, fucking you up the bed. He looks down at the mess between your thighs, a frothy mixture of your wetness, Jimin’s cum, and his precum, and just seeing you all sloppy for him has his balls tightening. That mess is the perfect lube, keeping you slick even though he’s practically rubbing you raw with how fast he’s going, the wetness saving your battered pussy from harm.

You already look fucked out. You’re sure your hair is a mess and the little bit of eyeliner you had on is smeared down your face with the tears that collect and fall from your tightly shut eyes. But Jungkook only continues to praise you, going on and on about how pretty you are and how well you take his cock. Your eyes remain shut so you don’t see him reach down to rub his thumb in fast circles around your clit, the stimulation shocking you into opening your eyes to look right at him as he fucks you even harder.

“That’s right, look at me.” He grunts, a look of concentration taking over his handsome face as he focuses on moving his thumb and hips in time with each other. You’ve only seen this look on his face when he’s playing video games and you have to admit seeing him make that face in this context is extremely sexy. It’s like he’s using every cheat code he knows to push all your buttons the right way to win this stupid little game with Jimin, and it’s working. Everything he does pushes you closer to that edge and your mind is going blank with pleasure,

“Did Jimin fuck you this well?” He asks out of the blue, his competitive edge coming out.

“N-no.” You admit sheepishly, breaking eye contact with him to skim your gaze down his body. He looks like a piece of artwork, a living statue of a Greek god with his muscles and veins on full display, highlighted by the sweat that now drips down his skin. He’s definitely racking up bonus points for looking this good, despite you already giving him an extra point for his strip tease earlier. But how can you not be enamored when he looks this damn good. And when he acts so fucking cocky.

“Does Baekhyun fuck you like this?” Comes his next question, hips snapping into you with just a little more finesse. He adds a bit of rotation and you gasp, legs vibrating now from the circles both inside you and on your clit.

“No! No one fucks me like you do—“ you hiccup, clinging to the sheets for dear life.

Hot. That’s all you can think about and feel. It feels like you’re in an oven set to 1000 degrees and your skin is on fire. Sweat pours from every crevice of your body: behind your knees, the folds of your tummy, your elbows, everywhere is damp and dripping. Above you Jungkook isn’t fairing much better, dripping onto you from his chin, but it’s hot when he does it. Warmth spreads throughout your body like a virus.

“God, Kook I’m gonna cum!”

“Yeah?” He asks, out of breath and absolutely shining with arrogance. His thumb presses down on your clit just a tiny bit harder and the added pressure is enough to have you teetering on the edge. “Cum for me. Cum all over this cock, (Y/n). Let me see how good I make you feel.”

As he growls this, Jimin, who has been twirling your nipples, bends down to capture one of the buds in his mouth to tease it with his teeth and tongue. He bites down roughly on the pert peak and that’s all it takes for you to fall into the precipice of your high. It knocks the air out of your lungs, makes you gasp like a fish out of water as you quiver beneath the men, tremors of pleasure traveling up and down your body as Jungkook glares at Jimin for aiding in giving you the high that he selfishly wanted for himself. The oldest grins as you quake, nursing your sore nipple with his tongue as both men ride out your high with their hands all over your body, soothing the tingles that begin to take over from overstimulation. Having both of your boys give you an orgasm with their combined efforts has you floating on cloud nine, and as Jungkook continues to fuck you, you can’t think of anything you want more than to feel him fill you up with his cum to complete the night.

“I’m close.” You hear him whisper, biting down on his lips to stop the moans building in his throat to no avail.

“Please give it to me. Wanna feel it.” You can barely complete your sentences, exhaustion taking over you but still flowing with residual lust.

Jungkook thrusts faster at your words, pushing himself past the limits of fatigue to give you what you want, and one tight squeeze of your walls is what finally sends him over the edge. His fingers dig into your thighs as his hips stutter, slowing his pace but never stopping even though he nearly screams out a moan when he cums. Seeing the veins in his neck bulge as he finds his highest pleasure makes you horny all over again, but your body can’t take any more, thoroughly worn and used by your two best friends.

“Thank him for giving you his cum, sweet girl.” Jimin mumbles against your lips, stealing a peck as Jungkook rides out the last of his orgasm.

“T-thank you for giving me your cum.” You find yourself whining, dazed.

“And for letting you cum.” He adds, kissing you again.

“Thank you for letting me cum, Kookie. It felt soo good.” You smile, closing your eyes as Jimin leans in to make out with you. Though, you all know that Jimin had a hand in both giving you permission to cum and helping you reach your orgasm.

“You were a good girl, you deserved it.” Kookie says as he finally stops moving, collapsing on top of you with his face in your titties.

When Jimin finally pulls away from your lips, there’s a strange look on his face that you can’t quite put your finger on. Somewhere between anticipatory and cocky. Then he speaks and you remember why. “So. Who won?”

You had forgotten about their stupid little game entirely and now you’re going to have to use your fried brain to come up with a winner even though you truly don’t know who you enjoyed the most.

“Well first and foremost,” you begin, “I have to give out the last points.” Jungkook lifts his head to look at you as you glance between the men. “The next point goes to Jungkook.” He fucked you better than you’ve ever been fucked before, but you’d sooner eat glass than to tell him that. Though, you have a feeling he already knows. He gives you a smile and places his head back down where he was comfortable.

“So who wins overall?” Jimin presses, excited to hear the winner. It’s clear he thinks he won but it’s also clear that Jungkook thinks the same.

“I got the most points, it’s me!” He declares, but you hold up a hand to silence him.

“I still haven’t decided who wins the big one: the overall performance point.”

“What!? That’s just something you made up just now to fuck with me. I got the most points so I should be the winner.” Kookie pouts, removing himself from you and watching his cum splatter against your floor as it rushes out of you. You all readjust so that you’re sitting on the bed so you can continue your argument.

“If it was so obvious that you won she wouldn’t need to come up with a whole other point, now would she?” Jimin brings up like a child. “I say the last point is ‘winner takes all’ and whoever she chooses wins the game.”

“If we did that then there wouldn’t be a point to the point system. You can’t just make the points irrelevant now!” Jungkook argues back, your ears hurting from being in the middle of their bickering. You should just flip a coin to end this because it’s embarrassing how seriously they’re taking this.

“I’d say winner takes all is a good idea.” You finally say, still not sure who you’re going to choose. “The points were just there to help me decide who wins overall. Jimin was clearly the winner at foreplay to me, but Jungkook blew my back out, which counts for a lot. That’s not to say that Jimin didn’t wreck my shit with that pretty dick of his or that Jungkook didn’t get me going with his strip tease. And you both gave me an orgasm each so… Gosh, I don’t knowww, you both did so well I can’t decide!”

“Well then just tell us one thing and we’ll let it go,” Jungkook starts, looking over to Jimin and seemingly talking telepathically. Jimin continues the question without missing a beat, which makes you think they really do have telepathy.

“Was fucking us better than fucking Baekhyun?”

You’re shocked by the question, then embarrassed as you realize the answer.

“…Yes.” Both of them individually were better than your friend with benefits, and combined was just an otherworldly experience.

“Good shit, that’s all I needed to know.” Kook says, hopping up from the bed.

“Let’s call this one a draw.” Jimin reaches his hand out and shakes hands with his friend like they weren’t just arguing, then he too jumps from the bed, walking toward the bathroom.

“Wait, you really don’t want to know who won?” You call after them.

“Nope, we’ve got something else to brag about.” Jungkook responds, sending you a wink from the doorway. Realizing that they intend to tell the rest of their friends and potentially Baekhyun about tonight’s escapades, you leap to your feet shakily and shuffle after them, frowning at the way they laugh at your inability to walk.

“Like hell you do! You better not mention this to anyone, you fuckers!”

#jimin smut #jungkook smut #jimin x reader x jungkook #bts smut #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #jeongguk #Jimin #jeongguk x reader #jungkook

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imnotasuperhero · 2 years ago

Text

Deep, in the dark, you’ll surrender your heart.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: What started like a playfull banter leading to a nightstand, turned into something else in the span of hours. (There’s a small part containing smut that I set the font in cursive and it doesn’t affect the story if you scroll past it)

A/N: I’ve gotten this request Tuesday night and it refused to leave my mind untill I created it, so here it is! An over 4k gigant that had taken a night off my life, literally. I’ve been writing and planning since last night at 8pm and It’s past 7 am now, which I hope helps you dismiss any possible mistake since my two braincells are squeezing their fuel thank. Enjoy!

“I agree. That specific shade should be garnet instead of burgundy.” You commented, leaning into the stranger sitting at a barstool with her sight lost into space.

“I-” The body in front of you stood petrified for a few seconds too long. “What?” Frowned the brunette looking back at you with a quizzical expression.

“You’ve been staring at that wall for so long I thought you were analyzing it.” You shrugged. “Is this seat taken?”

“See if I care.”

You smirked, asking the beardy man for your drink.

“Interesting choice you went for,” the woman beside you noted, clearly hearing your order.

“You see, when you’re in my line of work, you’re forced to combine things even in random aspects of your life.” You spoke confidently, determined to try a new bed tonight.

“That’s so, huh?” The green eyes beauty sipped from her drink, and you felt your legs tremble at the ghosting smirk perched on her lips.

Thanking the man, you dragged your glass in her direction. “Wanna try it?”

“How do I know you didn’t pay the guy to roofie me?”

Clicking your tongue, you faked your best deception look. “Damn it. You’ve got me.”

The playful smile on those red lips captivated you in ways you never thought possible. “If something happens to me, know that you’ll have to watch your back for life.”

“I’m good at defending myself,” you winked, earning a hearty laugh from her.

Seeing in anticipation how the stranger brought your cocktail to her lips, you choked at the low moan she breathed after the cold, sour drink collided against her taste buds. “I see you know what you want,” she nodded just to take the drink out of your reach. “Nu-uh, this is mine.”

“Am afraid it won’t be free,” you warned, and you patted yourself on the back when you noticed the stealthy deep intake of breath she took.

“Is it beet what I taste?” She scrunched her nose in a way that made you smile.

The following hours were spent talking with that beautiful woman that has taken your breath away from the other side of the bar in which you met your friends at. You could always rain check for another day.

Wanda, as she introduced herself, was a woman of many achievements and the CEO of some growing interior design company located on the outskirts of Manhattan island and, just like you, she didn’t lack the guts to do whatever she pleased which, being honest, you embraced with open arms.

Sending a quick text to Charlie, you extended your arms, smirking when Wanda accepted the gesture, after considering it for a moment.

To say the distance to her place was taking so long was an understatement. Luckily the car had a tinted window that separated the driver’s space from you both, not that you would mind if it didn’t. Lord knows the things you’ve done in the backseat of multiple taxis.

Wanda’s intoxicating lips casted a spell on you for all you could do was try to win the prevailing war between you both. Your hands rummaged upwards, squeezing with just the right force, taking a throaty moan out of her.

But what had you gasping was the sudden weight on your laps.

“Someone’s needy,” you rasped, moving your lips from her lips down her throat, kissing and sucking on her pulse point.

“You’re the one who drugged me,” Wanda moaned, moving her hips against your bare thigh.

Moaning, you grabbed her waist, guiding her through the chasing. “In my defense, you were warned,”

“Shut your smartmouth and kiss me.”

But before you could do so, the car came to a stop, making her grunt. “Hurry up,” she commanded moving off of you, waiting to exit the car.

After she got out, you quickly closed the door, following her to the entrance of the captivating facade.

The simple yet strong lines of the elements conformed an appealing look, calling you to understand the unique blend of the different textures intricated in a good-looking puzzle of warm colors.

“Nice contrast,” you commented, scrutinizing every single aspect of the exterior of the house in front of you.

“I can give you a tour later,” Wanda spoke a few feet from you, the expectation clear in her green eyes.

“Right,” you rushed inside, not able to scold yourself for admiring the modern style.

“The way you chose abstract-” you stopped mid-sentence when Wanda’s slender finger burned the skin on your lips.

“Less talking, more kissing.” She smiled something impatiently.

“Yes, ma’am.” You smirked, capturing her lips once more, re-exploring every single spot you could reach.

Stumbling through your steps, your hands held tightly onto Wanda’s hips, your fingers itching to be in contact with the softest sking you could only imagine in your dreams.

“Zip,” she indicated as her hands reached for yours.

Doing a quick job of the zip at her back, you broke apart from her lips, looking intently into the darkened green eyes as your hands brushed the thigh fabric down her pale skin.

You could only gasp as your eyes ran down her body excruciatingly slowly, determined to take in her natural beauty.

Once her black dress was discarded on the floor, you quickly strip to your underwear to then push her softly to the bed.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you vowed looking at Wanda in her birth suit, fusing with the sea green of her silky sheets.

Smiling softly, Wanda took your hand, bringing you on top of her. “Show me.”

You didn’t need more indication than these words for the hungriness inside you roared at the hallucinating taste of her lips.

Your tongue fought against hers, in a game of dominance that only the strongest one would win. You constricted the muscle of your thigh against her core as Wanda’s hips bucked upwards with expertise, coating your warm skin with the sticky substance and you made a mental note to taste her. But for now, you worshiped her body like the goddess she was.

The sheets wrinkled in her fists as your teeth marked her burning skin, sending her into a spiral full of ecstasy.

The painful moan she released when you moved forward just right enough had you grumbling at the need taking over you.

“Don’t hold back,” you ordered her, kissing her as deep as you could, not having enough of her. The tips of your fingers itched with electricity the more your hands explored her lustful body, and the willpower to keep her wanting was dropping critically fast.

With one last kiss to her lips, you began a long but enjoyable trip down the sea of warm, smooth skin, feeding a hunger you didn’t think you could ever fill.

Sloppy, wet kisses pampered Wanda’s skin, sending her to cloud nine as she gave into the pleasure you provided her, turning her into a complete mess under you.

The nails dipping on your back took a guttural grunt out of you, which only served for you to bite just above her pert nipple. You smiled when Wanda trembled under you, jotting down your discovery on your mind for later use.

“Please,”

“Hmm?” You growled, too busy sucking on her pinky nipple, as your free hand pinched and massaged her other.

“I need you,” Wanda cried softly, thumping hard against your overcoated thigh.

Sighing expectantly, you left her breast with a pop.

Looking up, you made sure Wanda’s eyes stayed locked on yours as you descended through her sternum down to her lower stomach, amazed by the utter craving reflected in her darkened pupils.

A primal moan escaped you when your tongue lapped at her folds, your taste buds coated in that elixir you’ve got the pleasure to discover.

Not getting enough of it, you poked and licked every single corner you could reach, enjoying the animalistic moans coming from over you.

“Oh, fuck!” Wanda cried when your tongue entered her. “Don’t stop.”

Grunting, you obliged.

She asked you to show her your devotion, and you just did that for a few more rounds, until she asked you for mercy.

“You sure you can’t give me one more?” You smirked against her lips, gradually slowing the pace of your fingers after guiding her through her fall.

“Maybe later,” she wrapped her arms around your neck, bringing you closer to her, enjoying the mixed warmth of your sweaty bodies.

Giggling, you decided to give up. Propping yourself on your elbow half on top of Wanda, your hand started to draw invisible patterns on her chest, quietly listening to her humming.

“Wonder what other qualities you withhold,” Wanda mused, breaking the comfortable silence that settled between you two a few moments ago.

“Not to brag about, but I’m doing well in life,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

At the silence settling once again, you looked from the hand in her chest to Wanda’s eyes, questioning silently.

“Go on a date with me,”

Your fingers stop mid-movement as those words sunk in. She wanted… more?

“I don’t do dates,” you shifted uncomfortably, retracting your hand to your personal space.

“It doesn’t mean marriage, you know?” Wanda frowned at your refusal.

“I don’t care. I’m not looking for more than what this is. A nightstand only.” You remarked on every word, making sure she understood.

You heard her sigh pregnantly as you stood up, dressing up.

“Do you even know who I am?” the brunette stood up, too, walking around the bed to reach you.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are,” you hissed internally at those words. “I’m not interested.”

“I’m Wanda fucking Maximoff! You should be glad I looked at you,” the woman stepped forward, sending chills down your spine. The look in those green eyes that held so much glint a few moments ago shifted to one of anger. Her body stance alerted all your senses and you choked at the need to win the match once again, fucking that rage away.

Instead, you grabbed her shoulders, moving her closer just enough.

“Goodbye, Wanda fucking Maximoff.” You walked away, leaving a steamy Wanda behind.

A week passed since your encounter with Wanda and she hadn’t been able to expel you from her mind. The captivating, mysterious persona you possessed had her hanging with unanswered questions that, with the way you gave but held back, only seemed to grow by the minute. And the plans and documents she had on her desk only added to the headache her eyes were acquiring the more she looked at the different colors and textures.

‘I need you’ she sighed sending the text, turning around in her chair to enjoy the skyline in front of her. The imaginary finger scratching at her brain was getting the best of her, affecting her work.

The grasp on her phone faltered for a moment as the chiming startled her.

‘It’s an easy day. Come over to the bakery and we’ll talk.’ Wanda smiled gladly. She knew she could always count on her friend.

Stepping into the chilly air of mid-October, Wanda snuggled into her velvety coat and decided against driving. It was just a few blocks away and she knew for sure she could use some oxygen.

“I ordered your usual,” the redhead greeted as Wanda took a seat at their designated table.

“You’re a blessing,” the brunette thanked. “I was praying you were free.”

“That bad, huh?” Natasha smiled pitifully.

“Remember I hooked up with a girl last week?”

Wanda wasn’t someone to avoid subjects. She didn’t had the time nor the strength to kick around the bush. Much less when it was something that took over her whole life.

“Thank you,” Natasha thanked the young girl placing their food at their table. “She’s stalking you?” The smirk on the redhead’s lips made Wanda’s blood boil. “You should get used to it by now, Wands. Or better yet, create an alter ego.”

“Haha, very funny.” Wanda snarled, taking a bite of her cinnamon roll. “She basically discarded me like some piece of-”

“As your best friend, you had it coming a long time ago, babes.”

Those words ricocheted through her mind, suddenly realizing some… no. She was a goddess and everyone knew her worth.

“I’m serious, Nat! She didn’t even allow me to ask her out.” Wanda cringed at the whine in those words. You’ve come around like a brick wall and all she wanted to do was to climb it up.

And boy, did you come.

Wanda looked up from the sweet treat on her plate at the sound of the voice that haunted her since the day you left.

“Y/N!” The brunette witnessed quietly how -her- Natasha stood up, hugging you as you giggled, unaware of her presence.

“Long time, no see.” You smiled, keeping an eye on the barista preparing your order.

“Dude, yes! I’m sorry for not going the other day-”

“You’re okay, Nat. I knew it was a long shot for you to be back in time.”

“Really. We can meet tonight if you want.”

The whole interaction panged at Wanda’s heart as she saw you interacting so carefree with someone who wasn’t her. And the fact Natasha had known you all this time didn’t ease the betrayal she was starting to feel.

“-Wanda.” The brunette came out of her reverie at the calling her name and she’d be lying if the look of indifference in your eyes sent her soul to the underworld.

“Hi,” you acknowledged her with a polite smile.

Before she could answer, you hurriedly kissed Nat’s cheek, claiming you were in a hurry and your order was ready.

The feeling of emptiness invaded Wanda once again, forming a lump in her throat.

“What’s wro- It’s her?” Natasha asked scandalized. Her green eyes wide open.

“That’s Y/N,” Wanda sighed, looking defeated at your attitude.

“Oh, my.” Natasha sat back down, her gaze full of pitiness. “I’m sorry, Wands. She’s… she’s out of reach.”

“You have to help me,” she begged.

To be honest, Wanda was tired of portraying someone she really wasn’t. She’s been for a while now. Her own past molded her to protect her heart and never let her naive self show again. But if the last few days served for something, was to show her she might have found the person she could trust her heart to. If only she could have you.

“I don’t know,” the redhead squeezed her hand supportingly.

”You know her, Nat. Why is she closed up to me?”

“It’s not you, Wanda.” Natasha smiled tenderly. “She… she has her own dilemmas, too. Just like you,”

Looking down at the design in front of you, you sighed tiredly as your mind seemed to refuse to let go of the encounter from hours ago. Wanda’s sad face was engraved into your retinas, making your chest inflate with something akin to sorrow with every breath you took.

But you’ve made your peace with your change of character. You valued yourself too much to be left as a second option for some businesswoman. That kind was never a nice feature.

You just couldn’t take the risk. Your heart weighed more than any pretty face with a killer body that invited you to their bed.

Thankfully, the knock on your door took you out of your head, smiling at the grumbling of your stomach as the time on your phone read 8 pm.

“Did I ever tell you I love you?” You greeted the redhead, grabbing the bags out of her hands.

“Once or twice, but it better be true for that cost me a lung,” Natasha smirked as she saw you licking your lips at the food in front of you.

“I’ll pay you back,” you shrugged, hurriedly placing both pairs of chopsticks beside the containers on the wooden coffee table.

“How about you design my future house for free?” Nat tried walking into the kitchen, looking for the cold bottle of wine and two glasses.

“You know you’ll need to buy me more than this, right?” You clicked your tongue, earning a laugh from your friend.

“We’ll discuss it another time,” she sat by your side on the floor, taking the remote to choose a movie.

Content, both of you decided on a lighthearted movie as you dig into the delicious sushi calling your name, commenting here and there throughout the whole duration.

The weight in your heart lifted a bit as you smiled at the peace the redhead provided you. No matter how long you’ve been apart, your friendship was always intact.

“So,” Natasha spoke as the credit rolled on the darkened screen. “Have you got an offer yet?”

“Still waiting,” you sipped from your wine, enjoying the tingly sensation.

“I might have found you a nice spot,”

“You what? For real?” Your eyes almost fell out of its sockets at the words. “Oh, my lord, Nat!” You launched yourself at a giggling redhead. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“It was nothing,” her long arms wrapped around your waist for a moment. “They asked if I knew someone and I thought of you.”

“You’re the best, really!” You gasped cheerily, breaking away from the hug.

You couldn’t fit more happiness in your chest. Granted, you still had to get interviewed and everything, but the idea of taking a break from the hustle of being your own boss looked like a great vacation after working solo for the last 2 years.

To say that night you were unable to sleep was an understatement for all your mind could think of was the different projects you’d direct for the next few years. No more deals with the clients nor complaints about prices.

Feeling optimistic, you looked at your reflection one last time before confidently walking out of your apartment with a steamy travel mug of coffee in hand. The blasting music coming from the speakers of your car had your head bobbing at the beat, adding to the feeling of pure joy you experienced.

But said joy muted into nervousness as you stepped through the floor-to-ceiling doors of the building. The bodies scattered around unbothered by your presence.

“Hi,” you greeted the lady at the front desk. “I’m here for the design team director’s interview?”

“One minute, please.” The blonde smiled warmly before tapping away on her keyboard. “Take the elevator to the third floor, then walk straight to the office at the back.”

“Thank you so much,” you smiled, fasting your grip on the strap of your portfolio bag as you walked the directions you were given.

Stopping by, you knocked on the ginormous wooden door, you straightened yourself, confident enough to not think about the looks the people working on that floor were giving you.

You prayed silently as the muffled voice on the other side invited you to come in.

But all the nervousness and expectations you had flew outside the window at the woman sitting in front of you.

“Y/N,” Wanda gasped, standing up and walking slowly towards you.

You took a deep breath and allowed yourself to calm the turmoil forming inside of you.

“I should've known better,” you grunted thinking back on the comfortable space you found Natasha last Thursday. You should’ve known someone like Wanda wouldn't stop until she got what she settled her eyes onto.

“No, please stay.” Wanda hurried to the door, blocking your way.

“Is the position even open?” You changed your weight from one foot to the other, feeling the previous cheery feeling slipping through your body.

“It is,” Wanda said, hurt showing in her eyes. “It was just a coincidence Nat knows a potential talent to replace Julio.”

“I’m sure someone else will pop up,” you sighed, ignoring looking her in the eyes. The magnetic pull between you both, getting harder and harder to ignore.

“Please. Just give us a try. The company, I mean,” Wanda corrected herself.

Looking up to those green eyes that liked to hunt your dreams sometimes shined with hope and you couldn’t resist. Not when you had finished the last project and had nothing to do until you found something else.

“Whatever,” you walked over to the desk, unbeknownst to Wand’s toothy smile.

“Here are a few of my designs,” you handed her the black leathery folder, fighting the urge to pay attention to Wanda’s reaction to every page she inspected.

Focusing on every single detail in Wanda’s minimalistic office, you quietly calmed your erratic heart as you dried your hands on your jacket.

After a few minutes of silence, the brunette hummed approvingly and you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“They’re really good, Y/N,” Wanda smiled proudly at you and you felt your heart do a somersault at the look in her eyes. “I like how detailed your lines are.”

“Thank you,” you smiled shyly.

“I have a question, though,” Wanda closed the folder and placed it on her desk, her intertwined hands over it. “I only see your designs lead towards the simplistic, detailed styles. How do you manage with Victorian style?” The perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in a criticizing way and could only stand still, hiding the unsettling tickles on your stomach.

Was that still ongoing? You knew there was always someone who wanted their place overcrowded with furniture that only served to suffocate you the longer you stayed inside the room. But never thought it was something this company specialized in.

“It makes me cringe, but I can put the client's wishes over my comfort,” you answered honestly.

“Good, because as the head of the interior design department, you must be open to things that give you nightmares.” Wanda smiled, trying to win your trust.

And that she did. Every new interaction she pulled out of you, served for you to see her as Wanda the person and not as your boss. With every project you both discussed, the closest you two became and what started like an overstay on a stormy night to finish some big project, turned into impromptu after-hour at least once a month. And Wanda couldn’t be prouder of herself for fooling you into deadlines that could easily be met the following day.

“Food is here,” Wanda informed you, walking towards the door. “Hope you feel like having Thai.”

“Sure,” you agreed, your attention focused on the different palettes of blues trying to find the right shade for this nursery. Unaware of Wanda’s soft gaze on you.

One of Wanda’s oldest clients asked for her to be the one who designed the brand new house he wanted to gift her daughter, and of course, she thought this was a great way to have you stay longer.

The more you opened up to her, the harder it was for Wanda to give up her hopes. And in consequence, the deeper she felt for you, like an innocent girl walking towards a spooky candy store filled with the sweetest treats you could imagine.

“Let’s take a break,” she suggested entering her office, looking at your couched form painting on the plan under you.

“It’s okay, I can multitask,” you shrugged.

Sighing, she walked over and took the coloring pencil off your hand. “I’m not asking,” she looked sternly at you.

“Fine,” you huffed, following her to the small sofa adjacent to her desk.

Allowing the comfortable silence that settled between you, Wanda ate her noodles thinking of the right way to say what she needed.

The curiosity was taking the best of her and the fact that Natasha was secretive about it only added to the itching feeling eating her from the inside out.

“Can I ask you something?”

Wanda could only smile softly at the innocent look you gave her as you nodded with the chopsticks still in your mouth and a single noodle escaping your lips.

“Why you refuse to go on dates?” She braced herself for the stormy argument about to start.

Only, it never came.

“Why so insistent?” You swallowed, allowing your shoulders to fall.

“It’s the only thing that haunts me every moment since we hooked up,” Wanda explained honestly, seeing how your face shifted from discomfort to resignation.

“My ex was a lawyer. She always put her work over me, no matter how much I tried to get her to come home before midnight.” You spoke softly and Wanda felt a pang in her heart at the disappointment in your voice.

“After I stomp down my foot, I promised myself to never be the second option for someone else. If my girlfriend can’t stop working to come to our bed, then she could never be the right one.”

“I’m sorry,” Wanda could only ache at your confession, the tugs at her heart only pulling further, imagining you alone in bed feeling so small in the nighttime.

“You know not everyone is the same, right?” She tried, tiptoeing into the idea forming in her mind.

“Says the one who stays after hours every other day,” you smirk.

“I don’t like being alone,” Wanda thought it was only fair to share her own issue.

Your small laugh got Wanda frowning. What could be funny about this?

“Nat would be all braggy about this,” you nodded in the negative. “She said we were meant to be,” you looked up at her and Wanda’s heart missed a few beats.

“Wouldn’t doubt that,” the brunette smiled at the thought of her friend teasing you equally as she did with her.

“Can I kiss you?”

If her heart was having trouble beating by itself, she was sure she now needed a cardiac pacemaker for the dizziness that appeared for a second or two.

Smiling brightly, the brunette launched herself at you, savoring the lips she’s dreamed of for so long.

“Is this some default movement?” You smirked as she settled on your lap.

“Oh, hush. It’s not like you don’t enjoy it,” Wanda countered attaching her lips to yours, not having enough of you.

“Does this mean I get to take you on a date?” She asked hopeful, after breaking the link for much-needed air.

The look of playfulness that she found in your eyes made her squeal in anticipation.

“One missed date, one late anniversary, hell; even one plan canceled at the last minute, I walk out of your life.”

Wanda could only nod frantically at the prospect of you having accepted her. The foggy dreams at the back of her mind cleared away as her determination lighted brighter than ever.

“You have my word,” she leaned down to seal the pact with a kiss.

She knew that it was too soon to jump into the pool. But having you in her arms after surrendering your heart to her, Wanda made it her mission to never leave you down. No matter what trouble she got in, she’s had the emptiness of her heart be filled by you and she couldn’t retribute you any other way than to put you first above anything else.

As always, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated (:

Taglist: @summergeezburr @red1culous @wandabear

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #my writing #requested

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breadvidence · 3 months ago

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Ch. 17 of Dammit finally expands on Javert’s blatant pass at Valjean in Montreuil, which is the divergence point between it and The Dammit AU: Fuckin’ Montreuil. I don’t know that I’ll ever expand enough on the AU to post on AO3, so, here:

***

Obligation keeps him at the event until its close, when there’s some matters of paperwork around the donations collected through the night, but he dodges the round of self-congratulation among the organizers that follows on the excuse of needing air. He’s wistful, at such times, to have given up smoking: it makes a natural escape. He will accept some awkwardness, Cathy Womack’s knowing glance: after all, he’s no politician, in need of winning that game, and if he’s learned effective charitable giving requires social networking, well, he has money enough to play eccentric, too. He finds a chair on the back porch of the town hall, which overlooks a sharp drop-off planted with calico bush, heavily in fruit, and he feels the temptation to take cuttings—there’s that spot of poor soil that looks altogether too bare of flowers, in summer, that has good enough drainage to—

The door behind him opens, and he pivots in his chair. Makes his expression exceedingly pleasant as he greets, “Why, hello, officer.”

“Mr. Madeleine,” he drawls—Jean Valjean has never been able to quite place his accent, but he recognizes—empathizes with—an effort to sound middle class, whatever’s underneath. “I think we’re the last ones here.” He heels the door closed behind him and strolls to the chair opposite, resting one hand on the back.

“Call me John,” he invites, for the—is it the second or third time? “I saw you circulating.” Difficult not to; of the people in Montreuil who are taller, none were present, and none even of those can boast shoulders quite so broad. “Not on official business, I hope.”

“Do you?” He gives him the flat, searching stare to which he is so very unpleasantly inclined, which is like being caught under the beam of a high-powered flashlight: it will not penetrate or burn, but it’s damned unpleasant. “Father Inez convinced me the church ladies needed another set of hands for set-up and break-down. I’ve spent the last thirty minutes hauling folding tables and chairs into a back room. But then, if I had known you would be here, I might have assumed there was enough muscle available for the job, and declined. —It’s too damn hot, isn’t it, for late summer?” He shrugs out of his sport coat, tossing it over the back of the chair, and sits, thumbing open the top button on his shirt as he does so.

If he stands and leaves now, how terrible a faux pas will it be? Fairly bad, he hazards. “Ah.” No, last time they spoke at any length Javert stared at him until he came up with an actual comment. He’s fucking patient. “Yes, I’ve certainly had to keep on top of watering my garden.”

“Really? I hear you’re out on the east side of town, little bit out of the way. Fair bit of property out there? Might be you have a long hose, then.”

Jean Valjean gives him a bemused look, just shy of impolite. “No, I’m afraid I’m too busy to do more than keep a few raised beds, so the hose is average. As to the rest of the property, it fends for itself. I keep it natural.”

Javert tilts his head, eyes narrowing, as if he’s been posed a riddle. “Well, nothing wrong with that. Average and natural—matters of taste. I don’t mind.”

“Ah,” tries Jean Valjean, uncertain.

Javert looks wry, then he says, voice pitched oddly low, “I’m further out than you—down south. Long gravel drive, and the privacy balances the inconvenience of washing the car regular. Maybe you could give me some pointers. I have a long hose handy already.”

Even further uncertain, Jean Valjean asks, “What did you buy a long hose for, if you’re not gardening?”

“Well, no, I didn’t mean the actual—” He clears his throat. “Though one did come with the property.”

“Oh,” says Jean Valjean.

Javert sighs, mutters what sounds rather like fuck it, leans forward in his chair—reaches out a hand—

Jean Valjean clutches at the arm of the chair—makes a noise he does not recognize from himself, an animal grunt, mindless with the sensation of unexpected weight on his—his groin—he normally dresses right; body parts shifted, today, as happens—God help him—he thinks it’s a threat, Javert could not have intended this intimate contact, and Jean Valjean should knock those long fingers away, he should stand—he should—he seizes Javert by the forearm, feels the heavy muscle there cord, and waits for the moment when he will clench his fingers and do harm, hesitating in his vulnerability to initiate that violence by shoving him away.

Instead Javert strokes his thumb across the head of shamefully firming flesh, squeezes firmly over the shaft, strokes down all the way to his knee, a moment of reprieve, then reverses—terrible—cups his palm over—Javert bends close, mouth near his ear, and growls, “You should invite me over.”

“You should—” Jean Valjean, helpless, chases sensation with a twitch of his hips.

“—yes, come over. I know your address.”

The hair prickles on the back of his neck.

Javert releases him, casually brushes away his lax hand, and stands. “This evening?”

No, please. Jean Valjean looks up into those empty blue eyes, that suspicion, the police embodied bent a little over him, sharp with a lust which abruptly clarifies otherwise baffling behaviors, and feels the risk not to his own flesh but to Javert—in having made the offer, alone. There’s a telling stiffness in trousers others than his own, close by his face. Of the two of them, Jean Valjean senses he loses less by fucking, though it’s—he will pray on it—God will, probably, forgive. “Yes. This evening.”

#fanfic (mine)#dammit au: fuckin’ montreuil

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moonschildsworld · 2 years ago

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Omg I’d love a Nagi POV for Regrets 🥹 Only if you’d love to do it though!

author note: I'm sorry, it look so long T^T but at last, here it is! i hope it doesn't disappoint :<

☆ p.s: i got another great plot idea but I'm worried I can't execute it properly but i'll try my best. hint: it's about itoshi brothers wink wink.

♡ for new readers, before you read this, make sure you read the main part!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *�� ° . ☆

We lost. I lost? Me?

I could feel my hot blood running through my vines as I collapsed, my hand fisting the grass my fingers dig into the dirt trying to hold onto something to keep my sanity from slipping away, as the whistle screech out signaling the game was over in our opponents’ victory, ending it with a close call of 3-4. What’s more regrettable and got me feeling like shit is that I was going to propose to her on the interview I was suppose to go on after I win this match. I could finally gather up my courage to do troublesome thing like that, just for her.

I was suppose to win the match, coach said that team was the easiest target, I almost got another goal in and we’d get to do penalty kicks and we’d smash them up then. So what went wrong?

My forehead was facing downward to the grass field as tears surge out of my eyes in frustration. Seriously, what the fuck went wrong? How did I lose? I could taste the bitter metal flavor as my bottom lip was bleeding from my front teeth sinking on it too hard.

I was so stuck on the idea that I was the best, I was unbeatable, the prodigy, the most promising player of the next generation of world class player. Nothing could’ve gone in my way. Nothing should’ve gone wrong when I’m on the field.

“come on man, coach said to gather everyone up” I got snapped out of my hellish thought reo’s voice rings into my ears. I took one deep breathe as my eyes suckle back up the tears. I got on my feet in slow motion and walks to the meeting in the locker room.

As expected, coach was furious. Silence fell as I walk into the room along with Reo when coach was just yelling. The silence and stares were suffocating, it was as the gazes were yelling, ‘it’s your fault’ ‘you were supposed to be the one who got us through dilemmas’ ‘the prodigy lost his touch?’

I couldn’t do anything but bite the inside of my mouth and get seated. After a few more minutes of silence, the coach clears his throat, “what’s up with you, nagi?” my stomach drops upon hearing the question , what’s up with me?, nothing is ever wrong with me so how am I suppose to answer this.

Another suffocating silence as no response were given from me as I kept staring at the tiles floor, the coach lets out a big disappointing sigh, he paces back and forth for a while in the room before he announces, “cancel any prior engagement or schedule, we’re staying here for a month for special training” with that, he storms out of the locker room shaking his head furiously.

Murmurs of complaints, groan and sighs were pour out as soon as the coach steps out, “only if someone had done their job properly” a benched player spoke out loudly in spite. “I know right, that’s why you shouldn’t have love to interfere with career” another spiteful comment follows. “what’s your career? Warming up the bench?” Reo hisses back to them as I kept my mouth shut, my eyes still glued on floor.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The special training and my pride getting smashed was the least of my worries right now but I couldn’t bring myself to open her message, I wanted to text her, “I won” to her good luck text, how can I face her now? My hand clenches my phone hardly as my head hangs down.

I know she wouldn’t eat me alive, nor tear my down just for one lost, and I don’t know why my feelings are this stubborn to run away from her. I know she would try her best to attempt to comfort me. So why do I want to run away?

I spent hours staring blankly at the phone before I made up my mind to shut the phone off and store it in the cabinet beside my hotel’s bed. I just need a day.

A day turn into days, days turn into a month. The anxiety bubbling up inside me never left and I just want to pierce myself and take it out, whatever is making me feel stuffy.

Training was hell, the constant backhanded comments and spiteful backlashes behind his back, from online and my teammates were really getting to me.

Coach pushing me more than he ever does, the gazes that were once admiring and praising me now turn into something more like a civilian camera that are waiting for me to trip again so they can all jump me.

She would never done that or let anybody do this to me.

Time passes quickly with the training that lasts almost the whole day with 8 hours to spare for mandatory personal business, eating and sleeping. It’s finally time to go back to Japan to continue the usual training and another match coming up in 2 months, I need to be on my best behavior so they won’t catch me tripping.

I am now alone again with my thoughts in the hotel room, I reach out for the phone in the cabinet for the first time in a month.

She must’ve been worried right?

I turn the phone back on, my heart thumping in anticipation for what she has to say.

..Nothing..? No new messages since that day..?

I could feel something snapped as the overwhelmed emotions that has been piling up over the past month came spilling out, I throw the phone across the room as my breathe grows heavier and quicker.

Does she not care about me? What’s the point of this relationship huh? When I’m away training my ass off, getting attacked verbally everyday, she hasn’t checked up on me once? Not mentioning, I haven’t answered her for a month, a month!

I sat down with my arms laying on my spreaded legs, my head hung down low. No, I directed my anger at her. She probably just didn’t want to get in way of my work here. I know that so, why..?

I raise my head up as my eyes turn blank and cold, no emotions found as my heart feels heavy out of the sudden, a voice suddenly flashes into my ears, “that’s why you shouldn’t have love to interfere with your career” it was the fleeting comment one of my teammate made.

That’s right.. She’s not necessary, is she? My mind is already heavy from soccer, why bother carrying any more unnecessary weight..? Come to think of it, she would understand. She probably can live, with her career and things, it shouldn’t be a hindrance to her, right..?

Yeah, she’d understand me. Y/n always does.

That’s how I selfishly broke up with her for my own career under a façade that I think she’d understand when I know she would break down even if she understands.

I broke up with her with a promise to never to lose again in any match, neither friendly—nor a serious match.

The result came to fruition as I have a come back in my career in the next match and I continue to do great the match after and the match after that. I buried myself in my career because that’s all I knew to do, it’s what I throw away everything for and I had a promise to keep, 3 years of full success, no loss.

It’s going great again, people that were waiting for my downfall click their tongue and turn away in defeat. People are again looking at me with praises and admiration. I had move up to join a more prestigious club and many others are offering million to get me, Isn’t this what I wanted? It is.

Strangely, now that I don’t feel heavy anymore, there’s a great amount of void in me. Of course, I have a slight idea of what is it but I choose to live in denial. She has been well, I keep watch on her, secretly of course I know much at least that she wouldn’t want to see me after all of that, at random times and she’s still the same, calm and composed. Going to work and going out with her friends once in a while. I do notice smiles are rare to come by for her. But she’ll get over it right? She’s y/n after all. That’s what I selfishly convince myself so I could look away, for my own benefit.I chose it myself so it’s a given that I chose to live with the void.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

That is until, today after 3 whole years, on a coincidence that I stepped out to get drinks, my eyes spot a familiar build standing outside of the stadium I was suppose to have a friendly match at today. I felt like the world had stopped moving as my eyes laid on her figure.

Before I knew it, my feet brought me to stand in front of her, without permission my voice calls out to her. She looks up in a slightly shocked expression but soon calms down. That’s it? Seeing me after all of this time. I could feel something poking at my heart.

I knew I shouldn’t be acting so familiar to her after all of that but my heart, my mind, they crave her more than I thought. She’s still as calm as ever, why am I the only one whose heart is thumping like some high school boy meeting his crush? This is so unfair. I asked her what she was doing here, I pray to gods that existed in all direction hoping for a slight chance that she’d say ‘I came to see you’

Our conversation was cut short by one of the guy in the opposition team I’m up against today, my heart drops seeing him acting so familiar with y/n, my y/n.

I didn’t know what my expression is shown on my face as I watch them. So she found someone after all..? They act like I wasn’t standing there in front of them, I just want to yell at y/n to keep her attention on me, what rights do I have..?

I bite the inside of my mouth as I try to keep myself in check. y/n finally turned her attention back to me, like a puppy, that much attention had me wagging my tail at her if I had one. That unsettling feeling attack again as she introduced the muscle blonde head as her boyfriend.

I just want to rip my body and scoop out the intestine that keeps developing that feeling. “are you playing against my boyfriend today?” I know I am probably just imagining it but it seems like she emphasized my boyfriend to spite me. “…yeah” was all I managed to get out of my mouth. I soon come to realized that it made things awkward, fuck I didn’t want it to be this way with y/n, after all these years, after finally she can meet me eye to eye again.

The blonde muscle man decided to steal her away again, in excuse of guiding her to her seat. I could feel my heart tightened at how she smiles at him, how she talks, how she jokes, the way she gazes at him. Those all used to be mine, It should’ve been forever mine.

He grabbed her hands and guide her away. No, she can’t go just like this, I need to come up with something— “do you think I’ll do well today?” the question spills out of my mouth before I can think about it thoroughly and I wanted to dig myself into a hole. Seriously man? In front of her boyfriend?

Though to be frank, I couldn’t care much because she turned to me again and flash one of her smile at me, “you always do well, don’t doubt yourself” I could feel myself choking up, that’s what she always used to say but it’s not the same anymore, where’s the loving tone she always uses?!

Before I could say anything more, the blonde almost dragged her away. I could only watch their backs as they disappear among the crowds.

There it is again, the same unsettling feeling but this time, I had nothing to throw away anymore, I have nothing..

My head was hazy, eyes are blurry. It feels like all of senses had been lost. The match starts and ended before I can realized. I had only realized when the same gruel some screeching sound of whistle signaling the match had ended,,, in the opponent’s victory.

It felt like déjà vu, it felt like that day. That day I felt like I had lost everything but no, I had my everything back then. I dropped to my knees as tears spill out of my eyes, the tears blocking my visions as some teammates came forward surrounded me and frantically comfort me and ask me what's wrong.

My eyes were stuck on the two of them as she runs from the sideline and he picks up her and spin her mid-air. I see it, her genuine smile, she’s happy, she’s genuinely at peace. And he was the one who makes it possible..

There’s no me in the picture anymore, I am not involved in her life anymore. It makes sense now, she wasn’t unnecessary. She never was, what she was is an essential, I couldn’t figure that out. I was blinded by guilt, pride & anger.

This unsettling feeling here and back then, it’s regret. Back then, I regret not being able to win the match for her and regret not being able to continue with my plan to propose to her on national TV. Right now, I regret now knowing and understanding the feeling of ‘regret’ until it’s now too late to know.

But one thing that I don’t regret is that, if one of us can be happy, I always had prayed that it would be you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

#bllk x female reader #blue lock #nagi angst #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi x reader #bllk fanfic #bllk x reader #bllk nagi #bllk angst #bllk anime

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sitp-recs · 1 year ago

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Happy happy birthday darling @wolfpants! I’m so excited to be finally doing a reclist with my Wolf faves. I still remember the sense of awe I felt reading the magnificent Hollow (my very first Remus/Draco, so brilliant and poignant it got me immediately sold on the ship and also obsessed with that verse). Whether it’s Drarry or rare pair goodness, Wolf always delivers top notch cottagecore porn romance with gorgeous settings, captivating characters and a perfect mix of angst, fluff and smut, what else could we ask for? I’ve had so much fun selecting my own favorites for this list. The Drarry section might look small but that’s because I wanted to give a massive shoutout to Wolf’s delicious catalogue of rare pair shorts, which seems to be carefully crafted to meet my personal tastes (you’ll find that I got a soft spot for age gap and Ron thirst but I’ve tried to include a bit of everything and there are quite a few treats from Wolf’s stellar Kinkuary23 collection 🔥).

Dear Wolf, thank you for sharing so many great stories with us. We’re so lucky to have you on this fandom! It’s been amazing to follow your work as you evolve as a writer and explore my most beloved characters and tropes in your unique, creative, fun and self-indulgent way. I hope you’ve had a lovely day and ami excited to see what this new year brings you next! 🎉💜

🐺 Drarry:

Edges (E, 1.5k)

Draco explores the limits of Harry's edges. Harry lets him.

The Farther I Fall, I'm Beside You (E, 2.3k)

What happens when you accidentally kill your friend during a birthday prank gone wrong? You ask your Master of Death boyfriend for help, of course. Check out @getawayfox’s gorgeous art here.

The Holly and the Ivy (E, 4.6k)

This year at the Annual Ministry Yule Auction, Magpies Seeker Draco Malfoy's time is up for sale. When Harry places the winning bid, will their contracturally-binding weekend together heal old wounds, or worsen them?

Look For Me In The Sun (M, 9k)

Harry and Draco are on the run in America after a mysterious string of werewolf-like attacks in the Muggle community causes the Ministry to impose new and harsh anti-werewolf legislation. Giant trees, crashing waves, seedy motel rooms, and the long and winding coastal road awaits them, but will they ever be able to go back home?

Under Giant Mountains (E, 33k)

Harry doesn't know where he's going. Everyone else has their life paths figured out; he doesn't even know where his map is. Who'd have thought Draco Malfoy bathing in a Norwegian forest would be the guidepost Harry needed?

Pages of You (E, 101k)

Summer, 1980. Harry is floating between university and becoming a Real Certified Adult. He's not ready. He really isn't. In a desperate attempt to have the Best Last Summer ever, he takes a casual job at his godfather's bookshop in London, starts an illicit pen pal affair with a wordy posh boy that he's catching feelings for, all while dealing with the son of Sirius's business rival, one Draco Malfoy, insufferable know-it-all extraordinaire. Check out @homoaesthetics ‘s fabulous rec post for this fic here.

👖 Rare pairs:

The Classics (E, 1.1k) - Draco/Sirius

Sirius gets more than he bargained for when he heads to bed after a long day and night in Grimmauld Place.

Viridian (E, 1.7k) - Draco/Blaise, implies future Harry/Draco/Blaise

There’s just something about Draco. Blaise can’t quite put his finger on it, but it’s—an impulse. To poke, to prod, to pick his delicate wings off. To teach him some humility.

Love is a Verb (E, 1.7k) - Harry/Teddy

These days, Teddy loves and hates being alone with Harry. He craves it, and he dreads it, and he thinks Harry’s starting to notice. He wants him to notice.

Hymn to Apollo (E, 2k) - Teddy/Scorpius

It's the night of Harry and Draco's wedding, and Teddy learns Scorpius has an enormous crush on him.

Seat You Higher than the Stars (E, 2k) - Rarry

When Harry tells Ron he's ready to reveal their relationship to their friends, he lets out another confession: that he wants to be completely vulnerable in bed.

Yours & Mine (E, 2.3k) - Dron

Just another Sunday lunch at The Burrow. Featuring French dessert, fond Molly Weasley, flirty Drarry, and Ron's incredulousness.

Like A Brother Would (E, 5k) - Rarry

Ron wants to tell him, again, that he’s not focused, that he’s not planning this whole thing through properly, that he keeps missing things. That they need more structure, that he wouldn’t have lost his temper like he had if only they had the safety of a strategy.

A Bigger Splash (E, 7k) - Dralbus

It's his dad's 45th birthday in rural Sicily, and all Albus wants is to be seen by Draco Malfoy.

The Hollow (E, 12k) - Remus/Draco

They both drink, and Remus wonders how much longer he can stay here. His eyes are already moving around slowly, looking for an escape. Anything to get away from the eerily familiar slope of Draco’s cheekbones, from the richness of the voice that sounds so much like the ghost inside his own head.

Trillium (E, 13k) - Dronarry

Harry and Draco are shagging. Ron’s got a hunch, and the only way to find out is to volunteer his services alongside Harry’s in the Big Malfoy Manor Cleanup of 2010. What could possibly go wrong?

Precious Metal (E, 28k) - Dronarry

Precious metal awaits in an abandoned, cursed cottage on the Isle of Jura. Ron’s illegal hunting ring is on it, but disaster strikes when he runs into a jumpy and suspicious Draco Malfoy, camped out where the treasure is hidden. What happens when they accidentally unleash a bond curse when both of them harbour feelings for the same man?

Tiny Home (E, 30k) - Dronarry

Harry and Ron left the Aurors years ago to travel the world and make up for lost time. When they finally decide to settle roots back in England, together, building a tiny home in the Lake District by hand seems like the perfect plan. What they don't realise is that Draco Malfoy already lives on the plot of land that they choose to build on. Check out @slytherco’s scorching art for this fic here.

#hbd wolf!!!! 🎉🎉🎉#Sitp essentials special edition #Drarry & rare pairs #wolfpants

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dino-mp3 · 8 months ago

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blog intro :)

3-23-24

Hello I’m Dino! I wanted to make an introduction post for my tumblr since I decided I wanted to start posting to motivate myself and others! I thought it would be nice to list my personal goals, interests, etc. :)

also pls ignore any grammar issues I don’t feel like putting this through Grammarly :,)

Goals

Work towards a 4.5 gpa: I have currently maintained a 4.2 gpa for this school year I wish it was 4.5, but I have 2 b’s :( So I’m going to work towards a 4.5 for this last quarter and senior year!

Become a better speaker: My ultimate career is to be a lawyer! With that comes working to be a better speaker. I get quite nervous when it comes to taking to a large group of people and start to talk fast. On top of this at my mock trial meet I messed up my direct horribly because of how nervous I was to talk in front of the judge and jury :,)

Get best lawyer during Mock Trial Comp: I won best attorney this year, but I don’t think I deserved it…I want to be more confident in my win this time around!

4 or 5 on AP Exams: I want to get a 4 or 5 on both my AP Lang and APUSH Exams in May! I need to study and practice hard though, but I’m willing to put the hard work in ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

Practice flute more often: I play the flute for my schools band and while I have only been playing for 7 months now I have to keep up with people who have been playing for 5+ years :,) With that I want to practice more to keep up and for my personal interest of just becoming more skilled with the flute!

Turing in homework on time: I have made a bad habit of turning my homework in late which is so bad oml I need to get out of it

Exercise: I want to start working out regularly to lose some weight :) While I’m at a healthy weight I just want to lose a few pounds for aesthetic purposes, but in a healthy manner!

Love myself more: I forget to remind myself that I have gotten so far and I have evolved over the years. I want to make sure that I know that I’m worthy of love even when I’m at my lowest.

Interests

Music: I’m a big fan of all genres (even some country songs too) but I’m a big listener of k-pop! But here is a list of my favorite groups + musicians: Red Velvet, Melanie Martinez, Laufey, Idelwork, Frank Sinatra, NMIXX, Ive, Megan Thee Stallion, Flo Milli, Poppy, Lesserafim, Aespa, Newjeans, Infinity Song, Kiss of Life, and many more!

Media: I’m not going to list every kind of media I’m into but here is a small taste! Big fan of ARGs, Indie Horror games (puppet combo specifically), Mascot Horror games (FNAF + Poppy Playtime), Anime (although I haven’t watched anything recently, but my fave is TBHK), K-dramas and Thai-dramas, YouTube video essays (TRO, iNabber, Primik, Stephanie Soo), Cartoons (Owl House, Gravity Falls, Amphibia, MLP, stuff like that), RPG + Dating Sim games (Shooter game HATER here), Sitcoms, Snoopy/Peanuts, Miraculous Ladybug (biggest MariChat lvr) Twisted Wonderland (Azul my love) and a BUNCH more things I’m into, but I’m not going to list them all like I said :,)

Hobbies: Doing my nails, playing my flute, writing fanfics (don’t judge I BEGGG), reading (pls recommend books for me to read, I love the classics too), deco (for my photo cards and notebooks lol), and makeup!

I think that should suffice for my introduction, though it looks a bit long…I’m a blabber could you tell?

Anyways thank you for sticking around for the end! If you want to see any updates on my goals or read my blabber about my interests don’t hesitate to follow me! (Also follow me on Ao3 @/dino_mp3 if you’re an Azul lvr bc all my fanfics are about him) This tumblr is more of a casual stop for me to be more myself and work towards a better me :) But thank you again and I hope you have a good day/night! Don’t forget to drink water :D

-Dino

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bleachbleachbleach · 10 months ago

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Tag Meme

tag whoever you want to get to know better!

Thank you for the tag, @bendingwind! Responding here instead because my anime-heavy answers felt more relevant to B3 than whipplefilter.

I will no-pressure tag @dreaming-about-seireitei (idk why it won't let me tag you?? so I hope you see this if you want to do it!), @the-sage-libriomancer, and @paniniwrap, because you are my most recently-followed blogs~ I will also tag anyone who sees this and wants to do it, because I can guarantee you I want to read your responses!

Three ships: Three ships I have written recently: Kira/Rose monsterfucking; Hinamori/Hitsugaya (rather, Kira developing minor negative feelings about Hitsugaya because IT’S A LOT, HINAMORI. Like I’m your bro, he assures her, but it’s a lot); Renji/Rukia, if only the dominoes would fall the right way, which at the moment they are not, for dumb work reasons and also their dumb coworkers.

First Ship: I dunno, Gabrielle/Xena?

Last song: I didn’t listen to any music today, so I guess by default… the 4th ED for Haikyuu?

Last Film: …Muppet Treasure Island, I think? Wow, I sure am getting an A+ in answering questions!

Currently Reading: In This World of Ultraviolet Light by Raul Palma, which is a collection of short stories that tend toward the skrunkly, the macabre, but are also just incredibly truthful. He gave a reading of “Stand Your Ground” last year, and it was so excellent I think it was THE best thing I read all year. It was the kind of story that makes you really want to write, because it’s so good and he’s so good.

Currently watching: We’re rewatching Haikyuu again, in a perpetual cycle of rewatching Haikyuu!! We just finished the Seijou/Karasuno rematch, which was an INCREDIBLY emotionally taxing experience, because I want Karasuno to win but I also want Oikawa to win, and the fine details of that match are overwhelming.

I was swapping anime recs with a friend on LJ the other day, and she was like, “Wow, we have such similar tastes! That’s so rare, as varied as anime can be.” And internally I was like, IT’S BECAUSE YOU ALREADY TOLD ME YOU HATED LONG SERIAL BATTLE SHOUNEN. ToT Nah. I mean, she did say that, but I was intentionally reccing her things I liked that I thought she would also like. XD It’s just that I thought she would like them for the fanservice and the angst, and I like them because of the like, folding tables. (I love you Seijou folding table and banner on the ground.)

I also have 20 minutes left of the series finale of Reservation Dogs, but I don’t want to say goodbye just yet.

Currently consuming: Faildinner, which is distinct from girldinner because it’s when you feel very smart about making dishes that do a good job of using up last week’s leftover ingredients, only to realize you’ve made a tomato-based potato/squash dish and a balsamic vinegar-based chicken dish, which is already ACID ON ACID until you realize you also made a shchi recipe that included SAUERKRAUT.

Currently craving: JUSTICE. Not to be overly dramatic. At work today an adult child said something innocently intended but honestly kind of fucked up and I am so mad about it. It’s not remotely his responsibility to know our ranks or employment histories, but he assumed my colleague was older and more experienced and that I was learning from her, because he could “see the similarities in our teaching style.” Which, I just wanna say, EXCUUUUUSE ME???? I actually have years more experience than her??? I don’t know how old she is but we’re functionally the same age. But she just came back from maternity leave, and those similarities in our style are because I DESIGNED. THAT COURSE. And I gave it to her and told her she was welcome to keep whatever and change whatever, because she just came back from maternity leave and she should get all the shortcuts she needs. But the course is similar to mine because I MADE IT. Like, what a bizarre set of assumptions to make. Again, doesn’t matter, it’s not his business, there’s no reason that’s information he should have or care about, but omg, definitely not over it. Thanks I hate it!! /end rant

#tag meme #for the record the recs i sent her way were for re-main with the description 'we watched this because we thought it would be very bad #but it's good actually. like it's bad but it's good. the major premise is an AMNESIA PLOT except it's also about water polo'#and 2.43 with the description 'we watched this for the fukui accents but it also boasts the most batshit sports-based childhood trauma #we have heretofore witnessed in the genre. also it was surprisingly decent'#and overtake! with 'we watched this because we thought it was going to be yuri on ice but very bad and it turned out to actually not be bad

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revserrayyu · 7 months ago

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2.2 Penacony thoughts [part 3]

**Spoiler warning** in place as usual. I did finish the entire 2.2 story as of last night but this post will cover up until after the first boss fight since there is much to discuss with the upcoming scenes. As always, don’t read on if you wanna experience the story on your own terms.

Starting off with something not so serious and it’s this one option they give us to choose. You wouldn’t believe how often I would say something like “if evil, why hot?” whenever Sunday appears to be acting suspicious, so this reply got a chuckle out of me.

Hearing Firefly speak about her three deaths was surprising. I know she and the other Stellaron Hunters are all following the script and shouldn’t rely defy it, but it’s gotta be at least a but concerning how you’ll have to perish not once, not twice but thrice during one mission, even if they’re not actual deaths. The mention about the third death being the final death does not evoke reassuring feelings in my heart even if these deaths are suppose to help us.

The whole scene when we watch her transform into Sam was pretty cool though. Just a shame we didn’t see or hear from her at all after this. She leaves a wish hoping we’ll meet again in reality, but I’m not so certain it’ll happen.. I would like to hope so though.

The flashback with her and Blade gets brought up again and I love how envious he is that death is part of Firefly’s script and not his. He’d gladly trade places with her if he could.

Then we have yet another scene between Acheron and that old man companion of hers. Her lack of taste is brought into question as she eats a supposedly spicy fruit and feels nothing at all. It reminds me of that brief encounter Black Swan mentioned, where she saw Acheron drinking several glasses of ‘Wake the Heck Up’ and didn’t comment on the bitter flavor of it.

Acheron goes on saying that losing oneself is a drawback to being a self-annihilator, but at least she hasn’t lost all her sense and memories yet, though I fear if that day will ever come because that’s actually so sad and I don’t want that for her! She’d almost be like an empty shell with nothing. At least the scene tries to make me feel a little bit better as Acheron mentions a friend she was once very close to.

Unfortunately those nice feelings don’t last long because of course her companion perished! I want Acheron to find some sort of happiness in this game please! Sure she said goodbye with a smile because that was her friend’s wish but hearing how scared she is about losing her friend’s memory hurts my little heart. Naturally I’m curious about who this friend of Acheron is if they were once a Nameless too.

I’m sure there’s a connection between all this chatter about the color red, the fact that color is so prominent whenever Acheron unsheathes her blade and occasionally speaks in red text, but I don't have the brainpower to think too deep into it all right now. All that aside, this was such a pretty frame of her to look at.

Aww, Dan Heng cares about us so much! You’re also a treasure to us!

It took me until now to realize that the symbol on these nightingales look like an eye, which makes perfect sense as there is a giant eye in Ena the Order’s splash art.

Sunday also has a similar design on the front of his shirt and his rings showed the same design where his hand was clearly visible. Coincidently, I believe this is the same hand he usually holds behind his back.

Yeah yeah, you win good brother points for volunteering yourself to do this task rather than force Robin to do it despite her own personal views and feelings.

Flashbacks of being wanted by the Silvermane Guards coming back full force. To be fair, we are on a planet that used to be a full scare prison, so jail was gonna happen one way or another. Just our kind of luck. And I’ll be honest, I kinda blanked out during most of Sunday’s history lesson about Penacony. I was focused more on trying team comps for Harmony trailblazer.

I don’t remember the full conversation when we finally run into Sunday again in the theater but all Himeko’s comments were great. Mom is done messing around.

Norman from The Promised Neverland? Is that you? Seriously though, he and Sunday sound so similar here, as Norman wanted to eradicate all the demons so all the humans could live freely. Not to mention that his Lamdba companions and all those kids he rescued in the Paradise Hideout look up to him as a savior. (sorry if that spoils anything from TPN, but take this as my offer to read the manga. it’s wonderful. season two was adapted horribly.)

All those times I joked about him being holy and he decided to take it literally.

Just as I assumed, our handsome man is indeed the final boss, which unfortunately leads me to believe that he won’t become a playable character. Hey if I have to be sad about missing out on having Cocolia, then y’all need to be upset about Sunday. Don’t get me wrong, I was hoping he would be playable too and become another Imaginary unit, but since he’s now confirmed to be siding with the Order, the Harmony path wouldn’t exactly fit him, nor would any other playable path.

So um.. the battle begins and it didn’t take long for me to realize that something was wrong. The livestream spoke about how this boss had three different phases, but as the fight went on, none of them happened? It didn’t prompt us to choose our team before the encounter began or force us to use the new Harmony Trailblazer. The fight just sorta happened and ended without much hype and it felt very underwhelming, especially with how great Aventurine’s boss fight was last patch.

During the midst of my confusion, reliable Danny boy arrives with Jing Yuan to assist us in an awesome cutscene which makes me feel a little better at least.

And then we.. wake up. And it seems everything is fine..?

Only it wasn’t all fine! But for now I’ll stop here because this will probably have to be divided up into five parts again.

#honkai star rail #firefly #sam #acheron #sunday #gameplay #revs rambles

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sobeautifullyobsessed · 2 years ago

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I posted 6,975 times in 2022

That's 1,720 more posts than 2021!

937 posts created (13%)

6,038 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@doctorstrangeaskblog

@elennemigo

@strangelock221b

@ben-locked

@fanartka

I tagged 6,332 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#stephen strange - 925 posts

#strangebatch - 699 posts

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#doctor strange - 679 posts

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#fanart appreciation - 532 posts

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#beautifullystrange - 256 posts

#loml - 244 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#at the end if the summer they used to give out tee shirts with that summer's theme on them to kids & adults alike - if you filled your sheet

My Top Posts in 2022:

She Wore Gardenias In Her Hair - chapter one

a Stephen Strange x Female Reader fan fic

summary: It's an historic day for Stephen Strange, and those that know him best. His wedding day. It must've taken a very special woman to capture the heart of this Master of the Mystic Arts--let's see if the day turns out as romantic as his fiancee is hoping for. And if this once very confirmed bachelor finds the sort of happiness he'd never dared to dream could someday be his.

characters: Stephen Strange, Female Reader/Y/N, Wong, Cloak of Levitation, more to follow in future chapters

genre: pure, unadulterated romance

rating: general...for now 😉

word count: 2.6k

Stephen hadn’t gotten quite the full night’s rest that he’d been hoping for. Well before midnight, he’d seen you to the door of the suite your parents and sisters had taken for the holiday weekend and had lingered as long as he could before kissing you goodnight--tasting your sweetness one last time before the vows to come, which would change both your lives forever. Then he had opted to walk several blocks downtown towards Bleecker Street, just to take the time to reflect upon the momentous step he was about to take. One which Stephen had never imagined actually taking place, either in his old or new life. But one he knew now was as wonderfully inevitable as the fate that had brought him to Kamar-Taj--a broken man who, by virtue of his once unbearable misfortune, had discovered that his true vocation was unselfish service to humanity. Well worth the price of the loss of both his hands’ utility as a surgeon par excellence—as well as the loss of most of his petty vanities.

When convenient, he’d ducked into an unlit alley and portaled the rest of the way back to the Sanctum. Cloak, along with Wong-- who took his responsibilities as Best Man with dedicated relish-- had been waiting up for Stephen in the small study attached to the Sanctum Master’s rooms. In lieu of a bachelor party—the groom had flatly rejected the idea of such an event at the very first mention of such—but knowing Stephen’s educated taste for bourbon, Wong had managed to purchase a seven-year old bottle of Maker’s Mark Weller Special Reserve (certainly with the proceeds from his Shanghai fight club wins, Strange assumed). “A toast to the bride, my friend,” his fellow master told him, cracking the seal on the bottle and pouring out into two antique crystal tumblers that had been part of a gift to the New York Sanctum from Benjamin Franklin--whom history failed to report, had dabbled in a bit of magic himself from time to time.

“How you ever stumbled upon such a smart, gentle woman with a heart soft enough to tolerate your ego and overlook your usual rash behavior, remains a continual wonder to me,” he announced, and then chuckled warmly, slapping Stephen’s back for good measure, “But I’m damn glad you had wisdom enough to not look the Universe’s gift dumbly in the mouth, and took her up for all that she is worth!”

His glass still raised, Stephen nodded his head in unstinting accord. “I’ve never agreed with you more, Wong. As the most undeserving of men, I can only think I must have done something very right in my…” he framed his next few words in a one-handed air quote, “…‘in my youth or childhood’ to be given the mercy of her love. And I plan to give her every reason to stay by my side, every chance that I’m allotted.” He took a long quaff of the rich, amber fluid, enjoying the good burn as it went down.

“See that you do,” Wong grunted, before swallowing down his own.

Soon enough, Wong capped the bottle, telling Stephen he had promised you to make sure your fiancée’s sleep went uninterrupted; except for the most dire of emergencies, Wong would be taking up the mantle of Sanctum Master until the newlyweds returned from their too-brief honeymoon. Thus, he had practically ordered Strange off to bed, although Stephen was happy to oblige. He had already planned on meditating, hoping it would ease him into a night with dreams filled with only the best of things. With only you.

It wasn’t wedding jitters or a case of cold feet that had denied him his full rest. ‘Twas sweet anticipation of what had longtime been unthinkable for Stephen—pledging his heart in a lifetime commitment to a wonderful soul who understood him as no one in his past ever had and loved him without reservation despite the wealth of flaws he’d been working to overcome since he had had dedicated himself to protect and defend Earth as an initiate of the Mystic Arts. This night, his mind had wandered back to the lucky day he’d first seen you in Metropolitan General’s ER.

Stephen had been there to visit with Christine Palmer—their first face-to-face meeting since he had Blipped back into existence. Both their schedules had been hectic and overfilled. His with attending to shoring up the cascade of fissures in, and allaying the disruptions to, this reality’s stability, in the wake of his necessary tampering with the integrity of Space and Time to resurrect countless lives across the Universe. She with an overwhelming host of medical emergencies brought on by the sudden return of patients that had disappeared five years ago, mid need, and new ones created when those Lost tried to piece together their old lives in a world that had long since moved on. Watching Christine in action, confident, commanding, and compelling in her unique way, had left Stephen aching in places he hadn’t had time to even consider since his return. That old ache, which could never be satisfied, to be a doctor once again, and jump into the fray at her side. And the quiet ache of knowing that he had missed his chance to love her properly—as they both had deserved of him—and build themselves a life together.

Still, Stephen had hung back a while, envying the vital purpose of the doctors and nurses all around him. There were so many new faces since his tenure there had ended, some much younger and more fresh-faced then he ever remembered being throughout his internship and residency. A pretty, dark-haired nurse attending to a crying preschooler caught his eye. The little girl seemed to be lost, having apparently wandered in off the street. He found himself moved by how gently the woman took the child in hand and calmed her down, eventually making her giggles bubble forth amidst the hectic ER. There’s a special kind of magic in that, he remembered thinking; one I never mastered, nor even attempted. But this one makes it look effortless. Stephen had assumed correctly, that you had a background in pediatrics—and was doubly impressed when he went on to discover you were a board-certified midwife as well.

The next time he’d seen you, he’d stopped by the hospital cafeteria to grab a quick cup of coffee with Christine. Touching base only, for she had made sure that Stephen understood she was seriously involved with someone. She’d already been seated when he got there, with a large cup of coffee waiting for him, just the way she remembered he preferred—and was deep in conversation with the pretty nurse from that day in the ER. He ended up sitting opposite you, with his old flame making introductions, but having to dash off a few minutes later at the behest of her pager.

Left alone, the two of you had settled into a comfortable conversation, which went on longer than it felt—a good half hour until you had to excuse yourself to meet a laboring mother-to-be in Admissions. Before that, Stephen eventually mentioned having seen you with the crying child that afternoon—and you dared to ask if he was the Doctor Strange from the Avengers. The hero who had traveled through time to find the solution to set the world to rights. He’d been quite taken by two things at that first meeting: the honest respect in your eyes—not hero worship, but a smart appreciation for the work he did and the painful sacrifices you had intuited he had made in that arduous quest…and the pretty shape of your mouth. The easiness of your smile and the tender looking fullness of your lips. Lips that any man might speculate had been made especially for kissing. Even then, he’d been willing to wager your kisses would be as magical as your bedside manner with that young girl. So that as you rose to say goodbye, he couldn’t not ask for your number—eagerly hoping that you’d agree to see him again, and sometime soon.

Nineteen months later, you were practically living together, as well ensconced in his Sanctum quarters as in his life—and Stephen had never looked back. Not once. Your relationship had grown so naturally, and you had quickly acclimated to the magical aspects of life as a world-famous Sorcerer’s girlfriend, with your feet planted firmly in your work, and your arms ever ready to welcome him home from his extra dimensional travels and supernatural battles. You’d filled his heart with a happiness he had never anticipated could be his, and his bed with the warmth of being well and truly loved—and a passion that brought back the vigor of his youth. Forcing him to set warding spells to soundproof every room of his quarters; you might appear decorous to your patients and co-workers, but you sure knew how to let him know how much you loved him—and how very well he satisfied you.

For Stephen, your relationship was the one good thing that came out of The Blip. If not for those five years, you’d never have met—as you would still have been in training for your dual career. And likely with your age difference, he wouldn’t have given you a second look. The twelve-year gap was a helluva lot better than seventeen. You were mature enough to know what you wanted, without needing to compromise to get it. While being young enough to remind him that life didn’t come to one, hat in hand—one must pursue happiness with the gusto of youth, even with silver at one’s temples. As he had pursued you; as you had pursued one another.

Yes, the two of you were naturals together alright; your softness and compassion, your sly sense of humor and loving heart, the perfect fit with his sometimes snarky and tunnel-visioned angles and edges—and that the deep heart, which he had only come to realize was his since discovering the mystic arts, was most fulfilled when he was doing the right thing. No matter the personal cost.

It was your second Christmas Eve together when Stephen slipped a modest diamond ring upon your finger. By New Year’s Day, you’d set the date, and now it was here. Memorial Day weekend, late spring in New York City, a long weekend that would enable your far-flung family and friends to attend. Stephen’s guests were far fewer in number. Except for an estranged brother, he had no immediate family. He had never had the time or inclination to cultivate a coterie of friends in his old life, although those he’d made among his fellow Masters were loyal and true. He was glad to tailor the wedding plans to your needs, for your happiness had now become his own. Besides, Stephen firmly believed that he was getting the better end of the deal.

His trip down memory lane had soothed him enough to override the low-level beat at the back of his brain, which had grown more and more insistent in the past week. I’ve never been husband material…I’m too cocky and self-absorbed, too impulsive and sardonic, to be the life partner you deserve. And my life’s work now—it’s not at all conducive to domestic bliss. Not when I can’t say with any certainty where in the world, or worlds or dimensions, I’ll be at any given time—let alone the ordinary…tomorrow. Plus, he just couldn’t shake the overall feeling that he simply wasn’t good enough for you. Stephen knew very well how you would answer each of these justly arrived at estimations of himself, with a loving wisdom that dispelled his doubts and reservations as though there were as insubstantial as the ghosts of his past. Seeing himself through your eyes was the sole remedy that made him feel worthy of the love you offered him.

And so, sleep at last overtook him, and when Stephen awoke by habit, just a few minutes before his alarm, he couldn’t remember nodding off, but knew it was thoughts of you alone that had ushered him into his rest. Unlike habit, Cloak was hovering bedside, and even without the physical connection usually required for him to read its emotional state, Stephen could feel that its nerves were near as frayed—for his sake--as a typical groom’s on his wedding morn. “Everything’s going to be fine—I promise,” he chuckled as he swung his legs over the opposite side of the bed, “You know that. Besides, you’ll be with me the whole time, and no one besides Y/N and Wong will even have a clue.” Cloak approximated a nod, and then zipped over to the wardrobe, where Stephen’s suit hung waiting. “It’s hours until the ceremony—relax, please. Keep this up and you’re gonna make me nervous.” Cloak’s shoulders drooped a bit, and it floated over to the window, nudging aside the draperies to let in the sunshine and keep watch until Stephen would be suiting up for ceremony.

A knock upon his sitting room door spurred Stephen to grab his robe before padding over to answer it. He opened the door to find Adept Miriamme with a loaded breakfast tray. A vegetarian omelet, with sides of bacon and sausage, buttered toast, orange juice, and fresh coffee. He could smell the added chicory rising above the rest of the aromas, and his stomach rumbled. “Master Wong wanted to be sure you had a good breakfast, Doctor Strange,” the timid Miriamme squeaked, and Stephen had to refrain from chuckling again. The new initiates seemed to be getting younger and younger these days—or was he simply getting older?

“Thank you, Adept,” he told her, motioning her to put the tray on the end table beside the two-cushion sofa.

She nodded, looking very much in awe of finding herself in the Sanctum Master’s rooms, set it down and quietly headed to the door, before turning back. “Best wishes on the day, Sir.”

He grinned, “Thank you, Miriamme. It’s kind of you to say so.” She smiled back, looking a mite relieved her chore was done, and then left him to his breakfast.

Stephen was surprised at the hardiness of his appetite, grateful for Wong’s wise provision, and ate nearly every morsel--while realizing that the next meal he sat down to would be as a married man. So many firsts to come, so much to look forward to. And he planned to experience each of them to the fullest. Before his life in the mystic arts, he had sleepwalked his way through the simple joys and pleasures of life, always in pursuit of more spectacular things; of fame and accolades, and the considerable fortune that came with them. His vocation in the Mystic Arts had proven to him that a humble life of real service had so much more to offer than that of his medical career. While you had taught him that love—real, honest, head-over-heels, unselfish love—was the key to the exact happiness that had eluded him since he’d set out on his journey as an adult.

Enrapt in these pleasant musings, feeling the sweet butterflies of anticipation for all that he was gaining today, Stephen checked the time before jumping in the shower. He smiled to himself as steam filled up his bathroom, knowing that his wedding gift to you would be delivered soon. Imaging the beautiful smile that would light your lovely face once you finally opened it.

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215 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

MCU Stephen Strange as a Dad:

with Peter Parker/a son:

He’s sometimes gonna be a hardass because he knows how much potential Peter has, and he wants to nurture that for when he’s not around to look after him--but most of the time Stephen tries to calmly reason with him. He admires Peter’s big heart, especially because it couldn’t have been easy having lost his parents so young, and then his father figure, Uncle Ben, and his mentor, Tony Stark.

And when The Kid does the right thing, all on his own (which Stephen quickly realizes is as natural to the young man as his brown eyes and fair skin)--and even more when he surpasses Stephen’s expectations--Dad!Strange is so flipping proud of his boy, to the point where he’ll get all choked up and instructs his son ‘just don’t tell Wong about this, he’ll never let me live it down’.

with America Chavez/a daughter:

Stephen would start out all ‘okay young lady..’ and ‘you’re gonna get a stomach ache’ and ‘didn’t I try to warn you not to...’, but pretty soon he’d be all soft and doting and want to spoil her because she’s had a rough life, and he can see she’s much braver and stronger than she gives herself credit for. He’d be the Dad that waits up for her when she’s out late with her friends/gf, but pretends to be asleep in his chair when she comes home a few minutes past curfew, letting her believe she got away with it, while he’s just happy she’s home safe and tried her best to respect his wishes. He’d love to accompany her to the Father-Daughter dance, but only if she asks without any prompting, because to suggest it himself would be very uncool.

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247 notes - Posted May 26, 2022

Here is a Stephen strange prompt for you that I wrote down for my one shots thought it would be cool to see your writing for it. "Broken Cup" reader or character a coffee shop worker sees Stephen with his shaky hands struggling with the cup and he drops it breaking it. Or could be them two alone at home when she hears the cup break.

Hope you have fun dear!

I wrote this part before I got really sick--though it doesn't contain an actual broken cup, the spirit of it's there. Since I'm not sure when I'll feel up to finishing it, I figured I'd share what I already came up with. Hope you enjoy it @ravencatart xx

pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader

rating: wee bit of angst, mostly fluff

word count: 1.2k (so far)

His tremors were pretty bad today. She couldn’t help but notice-–and given the precipitous fall in temperature the past couple of days and the scent of the coming snowstorm in the air, she really wasn’t surprised. Because she’d been feeling it too. In the bones of both ankles, broken years ago and patched up with metal plates and multiple screws. And in scars of her own, which she painstakingly hid from the world, as they symbolized the weakest and most desperate time in her life.

Since mid-November, when the first serious frosts had settled over the Village, he had taken to wearing gloves with the fingers cut off at the second knuckle. She had guessed he chose to keep the ends of his fingers exposed to allow him better control in gripping things; it made sense that he would want direct contact with his skin to be certain he had objects well in hand. But even those gloves couldn’t hide the painful looking scars that ran the length of his fingers, and in the months since he’d been coming into the coffee shop (usually two or three times a week, and sometimes even four) whenever she got close enough, she made sure not to stare. It was more than common courtesy—her own scars, which she went to painstaking lengths to conceal, had taught her just how it felt to get the curious, and worse, pitying looks they summoned from strangers.

Silver Fox—that’s what she had named him, based not only on the white streaks of hair at his temples, but because he struck her as the embodiment of the word distinguished…and because he was the finest looking man she’d ever seen.

Looks that had a movie star quality about them. Cheekbones fine enough to out-pretty most super models. An endearingly crooked sort of smile, that started on the left corner of his mouth and—if he had reason to smile broadly--spread gloriously to fill his handsome face, like sunshine filling the sky after a sudden spring downpour. Plush lips, full and tender looking, like they were made for kissing, surrounded by a well-trimmed moustache and goatee. She often wondered how he managed that, with the way his hands trembled at times. Maybe he had a significant other who helped him with that; she knew he probably wasn’t married, as he wore no wedding ring.

And his eyes. Breathtaking, really. Pale, crystalline blue in the vivid sunlight that came through the plate glass window of the store front, though at times she could swear there were swirls of green and even gold in their depths. He seemed a keen observer of the world, like his exotic, mesmerizing eyes didn’t miss a trick. Sometimes she caught him watching her, and she always blushed, wondering if he discerned that she’d developed a wicked crush on him.

Today, Silver Fox had ordered a chocolate croissant (one of his favorites; he clearly had a sweet tooth) and instead of his usual black coffee laced with chickory, hot chocolate with a double shot of salted caramel. Elise—the new girl—had served it to him in a ceramic mug. She didn’t know any better, and apparently he hadn’t thought to ask for a disposable cup instead, as she herself would’ve known to fill out his order.

He had placed both palms around the mug, probably enjoying the heat of the beverage upon his damaged hands, and his eyes were closed, as though he was concentrating hard. She watched him take a deep breath and exhale hard, like he was bracing himself for a difficult task. And her heart went out to him as he lifted the mug barely an inch, lowering his mouth to the shaking beverage to take a single sip. That was never going to do. She just had to help him, somehow.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she set the slice of white cheddar-topped apple pie in front of another regular patron and turned without a word to grab one of the thick, cardboard to-go cups and filled it to the brim with the sweet chocolate, hit it with two shots of salted caramel, and then topped it with a generous spray of whipped topping, the finishing touch a drizzle of caramel over the cream.

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253 notes - Posted January 15, 2022

Can someone please explain to me why my heart does a little lurch when I see him this way? I mean, I don’t even know 838 Stephen, and yet I love him and wanna protect and cuddle him.

What is this power that Stephen and so many of his Variants have over me? Is it the witchcraft of Benedict Cumberbatch? Or perhaps because my love for Stephen Strange has taken on a life of it’s own?

259 notes - Posted May 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

For the Stephen Strange x Female Reader prompt: how about a cute fluffy little thingie where the question comes up whether Cloakie ever needs to get into the washing machine?

I hope you find this cute & fluffy, Nonny. Thank you for the prompt, it feels good to stretch my writing muscles, and I'm hoping it helps get me in the writing groove again!

pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader, established relationship

characters: Stephen Strange, Reader/Y/N (also a practitioner of the Mystic Arts), Cloak of Levitation

rating: general audience, fluff with undertones of mutual longing

word count: 1.5K

You had left Stephen to sleep in this morning. As happy as you were to have him safely home at last (and having proved both your relief and delight to him three times in all, throughout the very delicious, velvet dark of night) you had awakened to watch him sleeping peacefully (his battle wounds already on the mend from the healing spells you’d cast when he finally stumbled through the portal from Crete), and had resolved to make him take some much deserved downtime for at least a day or two.

And so, you had silently slipped from his bed, loathe to leave his warmth behind, but fully intent upon spoiling him rotten in even the most mundane ways. Sorcerer Supreme he may be and a heroic, selfless servant to humanity, but he was still a flesh and blood man, and he deserved every ounce of the love and attention you planned to lavish upon him. You soon had his favorite, non-magical, breakfast foods prepared and left warming in the oven for once he was awake.

Next, you had gathered his discarded, slightly bloodied but heavily battle-singed tunic and leggings from the bathroom floor (where they’d fallen when you’d peeled them off of him the night before) for a thorough laundering, and once they were clean and dry, you worked the restoration spell yourself, instilling each magical stitch with protective charms and all the love that bloomed anew within your heart each day you were blessed enough to call yourself his woman. Though Cloak was in obvious need of a good washing too, it had flitted off the very moment that Stephen had let himself sag into your arms, and you hadn’t seen a flash of it since. You decided to track it down later, determined to relieve its Master of that chore as well.

Tiptoeing into his bed chamber, you found that Stephen had flipped onto his stomach, his arms tucked beneath his pillow and the sheet nestled around his waist—so that you went all soft inside, biting your lip against a longing sigh at the sight of his warm, inviting flesh. His broad shoulders that carried so many thankless responsibilities. His perfectly toned expanse of back, marked here and there with battle scars, which ever drew your loving attention, as though you would give him the sweetest, most gentle gratitude, which an unknowing world owed him for the protection he provided it. Aye me, you thought; the lover’s sigh of Juliet often came to mind when you looked upon his beautiful form, amazed in knowing that his heart belonged to you as much as yours did to him.

“I can feel you watching me,” he mumbled into his pillow, his sleepy voice so rich and deep that a thrill ran through you and settled in your solar plexus. You had to tighten your grip on the laundry basket, defying the sudden urge to jump his bones.

“I wasn’t sure if you were awake yet,” you tried to reason, blushing as much from the fib as from the spark of desire he had conjured without even trying. “I didn’t want to disturb you, darling…”

Stephen gave a sinful sounding groan, and with some effort and a wince or two, turned onto his back. Obviously, he was still feeling the effects of his struggle to cast a trio of immature Lamias back into the Shadow dimension from whence they had escaped; likely he needed another rubdown with the charmed salve you had treated his muscles with last night. “I was hoping you had every intention of disturbing me, honey,” he replied, smirking wickedly and patting the mattress beside him.

“Stephen,” you tutted, setting the basket with his clean robes on the foot of the bed. “You needed your rest, and…well…” you shrugged, looking away from the warmth of his gaze, trying to maintain a semblance of decorum, “…so I decided to…putter…”

His smirk grew into his trademark, shit-eating grin. “Putter?” he chuckled, “Pray tell, my saucy sorceress, how exactly did you putter?”

When he looked at you this way, it got harder and harder to concentrate on whatever task was at hand, let alone expressing yourself cogently. You knew for a fact that Stephen enjoyed how flustered you got when he turned on the charm, and how easily you turned to putty in his hands. You squared your shoulders, trying your best to keep your cool. “I’ve got breakfast keeping warm in the oven, and…I took care of your laundry…”

“You didn’t need to do that, honey,” he replied softly, sitting up and patting the bed again, looking touched by that modest tender of your affection. “I don’t expect you to take care of me that way, sweetheart.” Stephen reached his hand out to you, the heat of the moment quietly banking, as a sort of wonder filled his gentle blue eyes.

Of course, that was enough for you to take a seat and slip your hand into his. “I know you don’t, but…but I like taking care of you, darling. It makes me happy. And since I can’t be with you when you go into those…dangerous situations…” Tears prickled your eyes, but you blinked them back, remaining as resolute as ever to keep him from seeing how much you worried about him when you couldn’t be there to protect him even a little. “Since I can’t help you fight your battles, the least I can do is make your life…comfortable, and…well, worry free.”

He raised your hand to kiss your knuckles. “You already make coming home the best part of any day, honey. Which is the surest motivation for me to give whatever enemy I’ve gotta face, a swift and mighty kick in the ass.”

Though you rolled your eyes, you allowed yourself to take his loving assertion to heart, then leaned in to brush your lips to his, lingering as you asked, “So, um…you ready for some brunch?”

“Not until you’ve given me a proper good morning kiss,” he husked, and cupped your jawline in his free hand. At his prompting, you parted your lips, allowing Stephen to deepen your connection, well beyond what anyone would consider ‘proper’. You hummed contently when he finally released you, and then opened your eyes to catch him grinning as he teased you, “Yup- I’m definitely…famished…now.”

You gave a little shiver at the innuendo, considering it a promise of later satisfactions, and stood up to hang his sorcerer’s kit in the closet and put away the rest of his clean clothing. Stephen slid out of bed, clad in his comfiest pajama bottoms, and pulled a well-worn, gray cotton tee over his head. You caught a flash of red out of the corner of your eye, as Cloak ducked its collar just inside the doorway. Noting your attention, it zipped away, leaving only a swirl of air in it’s wake, while you called after it, “Hey! I was looking for you this morning. You’re due for a good wash up before you leave the Sanctum again.”

Stephen came up behind you and planted a kiss just beneath your ear, while sliding both arms around you. “Yeah, not a good idea, sweetheart,” rocking you gently, “Unless you’ve got a degree in cat-herding I don’t know about…”

“I’m sorry- what?”

His breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck as he chuckled, and you felt his amusement in the soothing vibrations of his chest against your back. “I discovered early on that Cloak prefers to see to its own…maintenance. Except when it’s experienced some kind of physical damage that requires magic—or a tailor—to repair…”

“Seriously?” You wondered for a moment if your boyfriend was teasing you again.

“Absolutely,” he assured you, “For some reason I haven’t been able to decipher—since it’s an open book about everything else—Cloak is a creature of privacy when it comes to…bathing.”

You had to giggle at that. “And I suppose it prefers to shower when you’re not around?”

“God, no,” he laughed, urging you into the hallway and on the way to the third-floor kitchen, where brunch awaited, “Once we’re out of the way, Cloak is gonna indulge in a good, long soak in my bathtub. So, we need to steer clear of my chambers for, um…about an hour…”

You smacked his shoulder lightly, “Now you are teasing me!”

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654 notes - Posted January 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I HOPE PEOPLE WILL CHECK OUT MY TOP POSTS (beneath the cut) AS 3 OF 5 ARE FICS #in this year of extended writer's block I'd like to show I accomplished something #trials & tribulations of a writer

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