#I swear she’s part husky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flickering-chandelier · 9 months ago

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Was Any Of It True?

Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader

Summary: Modern/College AU! Az’s on-again-off-again girlfriend gives Azriel a proposition: make the new bookworm fall in love with him, then break her heart, in exchange for anything he wants. He agrees, but things get complicated when he falls for Reader for real.

Based on this request! 🩷

✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨

Warnings: angst, sexual language?, swearing, Azriel & friends being assholes

Word Count: 10.2k oh lord sorry besties I couldn’t shut my little brain off

“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”

“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”

Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”

Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”

He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”

“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”

“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore.

No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.

He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin.

Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle.

Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”

She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”

Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.

“I have a proposition for you.”

He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”

“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.

“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.

Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?”

Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.

He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”

She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her.

“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”

“Just hear me out!”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.

“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.

He looked pointedly at her. “And?”

“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.

“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.

Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”

Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”

She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.

He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.

Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.

“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.

“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.

To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”

He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”

“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.

“What?” Azriel asked.

“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”

He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”

She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked.

He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”

Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”

---

You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…

Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --

“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice.

You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous.

His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves.

All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.

“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.

“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.

He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”

“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked.

“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”

His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”

“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.

“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”

You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”

He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”

A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”

He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously.

You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”

You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”

Rolling your eyes, you told him.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”

“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”

“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.

“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.

Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”

You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”

He shrugged casually. “I like you.”

“You don't know me!”

“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”

You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”

He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”

“What date?” You blanched.

He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”

You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was.

As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”

For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.”

His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Can't wait.”

You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text.

Az: Done studying yet?

It was an effort to bite down your smile.

You: Taking a break for dinner.

It was less than a minute before he responded.

Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?

You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.

You: A little cliche, don’t you think?

Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?

You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?

Az: We’re playing tennis?

You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.

Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.

You: Shut up.

Az: See you tomorrow ;)

You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.

The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?

Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere.

He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.

“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in.

“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”

You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”

He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”

“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased.

His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”

You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”

Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.

“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.

You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago.

Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green.

You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”

“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”

He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”

You nodded, not sure where to go from here.

Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high.

“You are. I can tell.”

You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.

“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled.

“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed.

So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing.

“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment.

“Okay,” you breathed.

He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club.

“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady.

His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”

You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.

“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured.

You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”

“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”

That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away.

The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”

He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole.

He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around.

You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”

“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked.

His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”

He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”

You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.

He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”

You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”

Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”

Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.

“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.

His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.

“I think so, too,” you breathed.

His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.

You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.

When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.

He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.

Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it.

He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you.

When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.

You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”

Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”

“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.

You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.

A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.

You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.

So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.

---

Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.

And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.

He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.

He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.

Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished.

With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.

So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.

This would be a mess.

If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.

He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back.

He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.

“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”

Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”

You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”

He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that.

Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”

You sighed, shifting on your feet.

“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”

You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.

He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.

Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.

When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.

“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.

He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.

He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.

Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.

When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.

“Have fun?” He smirked.

“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless.

“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.

You laughed, glancing behind him at the house.

He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.

You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly.

His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him.

“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.

“Sure,” you said.

He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him.

Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side.

You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”

He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear.

You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple.

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.

“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned.

You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”

Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”

He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood.

Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap.

“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you.

Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”

“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.

He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”

“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.

He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”

Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”

Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”

Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”

Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside.

Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”

He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”

You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.

After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you.

“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.

“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now.

He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”

You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked.

“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again.

Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”

“Yeah?” he said, surprised.

You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”

He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”

You beamed, your whole face lighting up.

Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now.

The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.

He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red.

Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw.

He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you.

Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded, your eyes still frantic.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her.

When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”

“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.

“I’m okay,” you said quietly.

He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”

He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him.

Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.

Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.

The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…

Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.

---

“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.

Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…

You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”

For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”

You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”

“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.

He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.”

Before you could even respond, he was out the door.

You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.

Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive.

In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day.

You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him.

He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave.

So, soon. You would tell him soon.

---

Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.

He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show.

And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this.

And he knew. He loved you.

This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true.

And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil.

He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester.

But now his time was up.

He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it.

Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred.

Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”

She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”

Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”

Azriel blinked.

Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”

He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.

She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”

Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”

A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.

“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one.

He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.

---

The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard.

You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did.

Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.

You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.

A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you.

You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection.

“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.

His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”

Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours.

Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice.

Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket.

Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”

Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next.

Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?

“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic.

You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.

They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking.

You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out --

It was all fake. All of it.

Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out.

When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”

“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”

“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him.

“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you.

“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.

“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels.

You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?”

“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.

You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”

It didn’t matter. But you had to know.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”

You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away.

Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”

“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking.

He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”

You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice.

Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”

Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”

He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”

Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going.

Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.

You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands.

You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury.

Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind your back. You felt nauseous.

How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.

I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that.

I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.

I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?

Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door.

You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”

“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”

You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”

Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.”

His face fell. “I love you.”

Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”

He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”

Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”

Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it.

You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”

His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.

“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.

“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”

He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”

You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway.

Without another word, you shut the door.

Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects.

It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing.

By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.

Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered.

You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt.

A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer.

Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️

Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?

Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.

Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.

“Hi,” you said softly.

He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”

“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad.

A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.

“I miss you,” he said quietly.

You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted.

Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured.

“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. “I need time.”

He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”

You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”

“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”

“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.

---

You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had.

For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement.

It may have been slightly unhealthy.

You believed that what you and Azriel had was real. You believed that he did love you. And you couldn’t deny that you loved him. That maybe you always would.

Was it worth it to deny yourself the person who had made you so happy? Who had taught you new things, who had helped you out of your comfort zone?

As September grew closer, you still weren’t sure.

---

Azriel got more and more anxious as the summer came to a close. It had been torture to not contact you at all, but he knew he was in no position to be asking you for anything, so he did as you asked.

The hurt on your face those months ago was still a clear image in his mind that haunted his nightmares. He would never forgive himself for hurting you.

Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining what would happen when he saw you again. Would you give him another chance? You would have to be a saint to even contemplate that. But then again, you were the best person he had ever known. If anyone would be able to forgive, it would be you.

Scowling, he stomped that shred of hope down. He couldn’t go into this having any expectations.

Soon, he would know.

---

It was bittersweet coming back to school. Academia was where you thrived. You felt right at home in the library, stacks of papers all around you.

And you used to feel at home with Azriel.

You sighed at the thought. The first day of classes was tomorrow. You had told Azriel not to contact you until school started back up again, and knowing him, he would take that seriously.

Deep down, you knew what you wanted to do. It terrified you, though.

Sure enough, the next morning, you had a text from him:

Hey, bookworm. Hope your first day of classes goes well.

The slightest smile spread across your lips. You knew he was probably dying to ask when he could see you, but was trying to keep it light. Leave the ball in your court.

For the first time since everything, you texted him back.

Thanks, Az. Yours, too.

He opened it immediately. After a moment, you willed yourself to send another:

Wanna meet up at the tennis courts tonight?

His reply came at lightning speed:

Reigning in your smile, you replied:

You couldn’t remember ever being this nervous as you walked to the tennis courts. There were a few people playing, so you sat underneath a tree nearby, willing your legs to stop shaking.

Right on time, a familiar motorcycle turned into the parking lot. He spotted you immediately, striding over to you with unsure steps.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said quietly.

You looked up at him, your heart racing at the familiarity you felt. “Hi,” you said, and after the briefest hesitation, you patted the grass next to you. You weren’t sure you would be able to stand.

Immediately, he plopped down across from you, his knees only inches from yours as he faced you.

His eyes were locked on yours. “How was your summer?” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“Okay,” you said. “How was yours?”

“Okay,” he said quietly.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, here’s the thing. I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking. And I do love you, Az.”

You paused, not sure how to word what you were feeling.

“But?” Azriel said, his voice dripping with trepidation, his eyes guarded.

“But it’s going to take some time before I can trust you again.”

Azriel swallowed, his eyes never wavering from yours.

He seemed like he was waiting for you to continue before he said anything, so you added, quietly, “I am willing to try, though. To give us another chance.”

The tautness in his body released, relief flooding his features. “Really?” he croaked, tears swimming in his eyes.

You could only nod before he launched towards you, knocking you on your back, before he threaded his fingers through your hair, kissing you deeply.

You laughed, as his other hand came up to cup your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he said against your lips.

Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed into his kiss. “I know, Az. I know.”

“I love you,” he murmured, moving to kiss down your neck.

“I love you, too.”

“I missed you so much,” he groaned before kissing your lips again.

You giggled. “I missed you, too.”

He finally stopped kissing you, settling his elbows on either side of your head, leaning his forehead against yours. “Thank you. For giving me another chance.”

Smiling, you kissed him swiftly on the lips. “Don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms, going over your respective summers.

Eventually, Azriel propped himself on an elbow, gazing at you with all the love in the world.

“What?” you asked.

He grinned. “You wanna go mini golfing, bookworm?”

You couldn’t help but return his smile. “Only if I can help you again.”

Azriel leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “It’s a deal.”

A/N: wanna see more of these two?? Check out part 2!

@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch

#acotar fic #acotar one shot #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel one shot #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #azriel x you #azriel #azriel angst #acotar azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar angst

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solbaby7 · 11 months ago

Note

I loved Blurred Lines!! Do you think you’d ever want to do a part 2 for when Rhys shows up? 👀 👀🔥

[ part one ]

Rhysand hears you before he see’s you.

Unhinged shouts and the rhythmic smacking of skin on skin pulling him closer, beckoning him inside. The concealed safe house reeks of sex, clothes scattered around the floor from the moment he walks in; chairs are tipped over, rugs askew and there’s a dent on the hallway wall.

He doesn’t bother calling out for you, certain that you probably wouldn’t hear him anyway through the drug-induced haze. The traces of it lingers in your scent, spiking sweet honey and brown sugar with strong notes of spicy cinnamon that settles thick in his throat. “Swear, I can take it, Az.” Desperate whines and choppy breaths coupled with deep grunts and a husky swear at the sound of your plea. “Just a little harder.”

Rhys knew it shouldn’t have affected him the way it did. The blood that rushed between his legs at the sound of Azriel complying, doing everything you’d asked for and more. Neither of you even notice him, shadows too distracted in squeezing at heaving breasts and gliding up the length of your neck. A soothing cool to combat the overwhelming heat that Azriel had spent hours trying to quench.

It would work for a little while before the need grew again, demanding more tongue and teeth biting into your shoulders. Blazing for the harsh grip of Azriel’s hands on your hips as his cock nudged in as far as your body allowed. “Rhys will be here soon,” He’d mutter into the shell of your ear when you’d clench around him, hips stuttering and tears streaming down your cheeks from the sensitivity of yet another orgasm.

And yet, still your body commanded more.

“It won’t stop,” Sweat beads at your hairline, hair tangled and lips swollen as your body holds onto Azriel like a lifeline. Filthy sounds squelch between where you begin and he ends, arousal dripping like a leaky faucet. “Why won’t it stop?”

“Rhys,” Azriel sighs in relief when the High Lord comes into view, exhaustion evident in tousled inky hair and droopy lids but he’s too lost in the feeling to stop. The spymasters wings are splayed out behind him as your hands wander freely along the leathery texture, hips rocking and tongue dragging along the side of his neck. “You’re here.”

Rhysand nods once, easing you off and into his arms. You find instant relief with his touch, face buried in his neck as he guides you into the bathroom. The water in the tub had long since ran cold and yet it’s perfectly warm when he rests you inside. “Took you long enough,” You whisper weakly, voice raspy from overuse. “I nearly broke him.”

His jaw clenched, unreasonable jealously tickling at the edge of his mind at the sight of Azriel’s marks on you. “I can see that,” Rhys pushes damp hair from your face, cupping at flushed cheeks to stare into your eyes. At the bright specks the shade of lavender dotting the iris, a stark contrast from pupils blown with lust. “Amren said it sounds like you were drugged with a strong mix of herbs; mostly meant to disorient but a natural side-affect is debilitating arousal.”

“She say how long it’ll last?”

Rhys grimaces slightly, hesitating before answering. “Depending on how much you ingested? Roughly a few hours, possibly less.”

Your heart plummets. So much time had already passed. How much more could you possibly endure?

More. More. More.

Every bone in your body screams as you watch the High Lord undress, exposing sun-kissed skin and mouth-watering tattoos. The water trickles when your thighs shift, searching for friction as a fresh wave of need rises. “In that case,” Your hand trails down beneath the water, hyperaware of the violet stare tracking every move. “I hope you brought your stamina.”

He’s quick to join you in the tub—even quicker when he tugs you on top of him, pressing claiming kisses to your mouth and he slides in with ease, hushed curses falling from full lips from the near unbearable heat of your cunt. “It’s not my stamina you should be worried about,” Rhysand’s deliberate in the way he slowly lifts you off him, watching more of his length come into view until only the fat tip of his cock is inside. “I’ll spend all night fucking the smell of him off you if I must.”

#acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x you #acotar #azriel #high lord rhysand #acotar azriel #rhys x reader smut #rhysand smut #high lord of the night court #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar

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abookloverlmao · 3 months ago

Text

THE GIRL IN THE SOCKS ON THE ROOF - JJ Maybank (part II)

Summary: You're in the wind, I'm in the water, Nobody's son, nobody's daughter. Y/N was nobody's daughter, hell she was uninterested in returning home after going missing with the Pogues. Wanting to go back to his arms- her will to live.

part 1: it took me a while! sorry y'all but here you have it<3

Warning: female!reader, triggering themes (mental health struggles, including references to self-harm, abusive dad, daddy issues, alcohol, drug, weed, swearing, angst, argument, shitty nicknames, bullying? etc. this will angsty as shit and fluffy, do not read if you don't want to! you have been warned, let me know what you think!

☆☆☆

If anyone dared to touch his Y/N, JJ will fucking murder them.

When Y/N and Kiara were unexpectedly kidnapped, an overwhelming fury consumed JJ. The thought of Y/N in danger fueled his hatred, and his temper flared as he grappled with the worry that gripped his heart.

Y/N had been by JJ's side through thick and thin, she not only inspired him in creating Poguelandia's flag but also joined him on hunting trips, despite her aversion to the idea of taking lives.

"This is the ultimate dream, baby. Who needs rescuing from paradise?" JJ scoffed as he secured the rope, glancing at Y/N, who gazed at him with an adoring smile.

"No passports, just living the dream, surf trip, right?" she said, her eyes in the shape of hearts, tanned JJ was something, golden curls, his eyes more blue. The sight of her looking at him that way caused JJ's heart to race, so he averted his gaze, trying to regain composure.

"Ready?" he finally asked, his voice slightly husky, causing Y/N to clear her throat and stand, extending her hand towards him, "yes sir," she replied pulling him up before making her way towards the ocean, spear in hand.

"All right remember, watch your shadow, they see that, they're gone," he warned her as soon as their feet were on the water earning a nod from her and a gulp.

"Just like we practiced, Y/N," she nodded and held the spear with both hands, eyes studying the water for any fish, JJ tried not to stare, her tanned skin, her flushed cheeks thanks to the sun, how her exposed back muscles moved, her shorts soaked and she wore only sports bras, her shirt long forgotten.

"There's a skate, I can't- I really can't-" she cringed at the thought of stabbing the spear through the poor animal so he took action, "dang it! I missed it," he spun around hurriedly in search of the fish but the girl moved without a thought.

stabbing the spear while looking away, she caught it surprisingly, "you did it!" he exclaimed pulling her into a hug between laughs, "that's food in our bellies right there!"

and when Kiara dared him to jump off a mountain onto the sea, she was worried, "JJ don't, what if you drown like last time?" Y/N asked grabbing his wrist, still afraid about the last time when he got hit by the blunt of a machete and fell off the boat.

JJ paused, his excitement fading a little as he saw the genuine fear in her eyes, he understood her concern, the lingering trauma that had affected them both.

Gently, he reached out and clasped her hand, offering a reassuring smile.

"Y/N, I know it's scary to think about what happened, but I've taken precautions this time. I've learned from my mistakes, it's just a dare," he assured her, his voice filled with determination, "I won't let anything happen to me. Trust me."

Y/N's grip on his wrist tightened, her worry mingling with a flicker of trust, she knew that JJ will never do such a thing to scare her, but she also knew that this boy was stubborn as fuck.

With a mix of apprehension and faith, she nodded reluctantly.

☆☆☆

Apparently, there was a history between Rafe Cameron and Y/N L/N, both were said to be caught in the corner of a party once, Rafe Cameron towering over her and her leaning back against the wall.

Saving Portis's life was a horrible idea, really, it was, Kiara got the idea and Y/N hated the thought of leaving her behind even if the girl sometimes can be a little mean.

JJ watched as Y/N raced between people on the bridge and slid down to hide under a boat with Kiara, their boots came in handy as the girls kicked the man in the face crawling out of their hiding spot.

A man got her arms and held them secure while another grabbed Kiara, she looked around in desperate search of JJ, the familiar blonde hair not once seen, nothing.

She sat on the back of the car in terror looking around for any of the Pogues, eyes focused on the ocean, under the bridge, nothing, she slumped back down and kept herself from attacking Portis in a fit of fury.

"We saved your life! That's what we get?" she snapped, her tone laced with righteous anger and disbelief, her entire body trembled with a mix of adrenaline and frustration, and her eyes locked onto Portis, daring him to respond.

"I'll try to help you, just do as they tell you," Portis said looking at her eyes, wildfire clear in them, "I will make you pay for this," she dropped back to sit beside a soaked Kiara, her grip on the girl tightened, her arm wrapping protectively around the trembling girl.

She pulled Kiara closer, seeking solace in their shared strength. Their eyes remained fixed on the guards before them, sharp and piercing like daggers.

Pogue girls.

they were locked in a random mansion with guards surrounding them left and right, the windows locked, everything secure and made sure they don't escape, the closet was open revealing red silk dresses and a note "PICK YOUR SIZE" not even some pants or shirt, just fucking dresses.

The warm shower after a month of staying on an island felt amazing though, both the girls stayed each in there for a damn hour, Y/N overthinking of a way out and Kiara doing the same, sighing as the water ran down her back.

The dress was perfect however, and the girls looked like absolute angels, the red that reminded them of rich wine only kooks drank with their tanned skin absolutely perfect.

And seeing Rafe Cameron didn't make her feel any better, "you! I knew you and your father were behind this shit," she spoke storming towards the boy that is rumored to be talking to her- well was.

Rafe glared at her and took a step forward towards her, "What are you talking about? You trying to weasel in on my deal is that what's going on?" he asked pointing at himself, she scrunched her nose at him, hair still damp, "what? Are you hearing yourself? I think you became even more loco with the buzz cut-"

someone cut her off, a man with an accent, presenting himself as Carlos Singh, he apologized to the girls about the rough tactics in bringing them here and it made her raise an eyebrow, Kiara was studying the man up and down suspiciously.

She eyed Rafe and moved with Kiara behind Carlos taking a seat on the couch far from him, so this man talked about El Dorado for about an hour and she found herself getting annoyed every second especially when he pointed out that the three of them would find this island or whatever.

"I didn't listen to a word you just said, how much are you gonna keep philosophizing?" Y/N found herself agreeing with Rafe on something for once.

"you girls have a manuscript, a diary," she froze once Carlos's eyes landed on the girls, and she could feel the curly-haired girl by her side tense, "this is ridiculous, we don't have any diary," she spoke feeling Rafe's eyes on her.

"how else could you have learned that the cross was on the Royal Merchant?" he asked and Kiara replied, indicating that they couldn't help him even if they wanted to, which was a terrible idea.

"We have been glued on an island for a month, how do you think we will help you?" Y/N added watching as Rafe got up and was about to walk expecting that this was all a game, but a guard holding a rifle stood in front of him.

Y/N's heart raced as she watched the guard step in front of Rafe, blocking his path. The realization sank in that escaping this mansion and the clutches of Carlos Singh's operation would not be as simple as they had hoped.

She, Kiara, and Rafe were locked in a room, one day to find this diary and witnessed Portis get shot in front of them, who wouldn't be fucking terrified? Rafe grabbed her arm and turned her to face him holding her shoulder firmly, "don't bullshit me, this diary, do you have it?" he asked.

Y/N pushed him away with a look, fear could be seen in them, "does it look like I have it, Rafe, no." she snapped, her voice filled with defiance.

She took a step back, her eyes scanning the room for any possible escape route.

☆☆☆

Rafe had slept the night on the ground while she and Kiara were on the bed, well Y/N had stayed the night awake thinking just in case, she and the Cameron boy got into arguments, he tried to talk to her but she kept pushing him away from her, saying that she doesn't own him shit.

Walking down the stairs with the guard's hand gripping her arm, she stood in front of Carlos in her pajamas, "I lied. I know about the diary, I don't have the original but I can get you a copy, but... if I do this I need to go alone, with Kiara and I swear to you, I'll give you the diary and then you let us go," of course, everything will end like shit with this man.

Apparently, Portis sent a message from beyond the grave that he had captured JB and Sarah and then she was dragged up the stairs by the guard and thrown into the room.

"Get up- Carlos is heading to John B and Sarah- why is he crying?" she asked looking at Rafe with a frown, amusement twinkling in her eyes, "Peterkin, daddy issues," replied Kiara standing up and looking at her with wide eyes at the piece of information.

"oh my god.." she shook her head at the boy.

"He has a boat that could get us out of here," Kiara added staring out the window and gesturing to Rafe who tried to walk towards Y/N but stopped at her glare.

"Fine. This is our only chance of getting out, but that doesn't mean I trust you," she added still in the silk pajamas, hers were black instead of grey, Rafe nodded, "Fine. I get it," It did pain him that she doesn't trust him though.

but, the trio worked amazingly in being actors that's for sure, Y/N deserved an Oscar for screaming so loud and pretending to see Kiara dead, she "fought" with Rafe who threatened to "kill" her, and by that, she means yelling and throwing furniture around to pretend they were fighting, Rafe helped her lay on the bathtub and pretend to be dead.

Hand holding hers she slid into the bathtub, a leg and a hand out, not a move of her muscles.

As the guard entered the room, his eyes widened in shock at the sight before him. Kiara lay motionless, her vacant stare adding to the illusion of death. Y/N's boots peeking out from behind the bathtub and her arm hanging limply added to the grim scene.

Before the guard could fully process what he was witnessing, Rafe sprang into action, with a swift and forceful movement, he struck the guard with the door, causing him to stumble backward. Rafe continued landing powerful punches that disoriented the guard, rendering him unable to react effectively.

Seizing the opportunity, Kiara swiftly moved to secure the guard. She expertly used the curtains, swiftly and efficiently binding his hands to prevent any resistance.

Y/N, her heart pounding with adrenaline, went for the gun, her voice was firm as she issued her orders, "Stay still! Don't make a move," Y/N commanded and he froze under Rafe.

With the guard now subdued and under their control, the trio had a fleeting moment of relief. They exchanged glances, acknowledging the success of their coordinated efforts.

and with that, they raced down the stairs following Rafe, Kiara took the picture of El Dorado and the girls followed their friend's brother, racing down the garden and climbing a passing truck.

her grip tightened around the gun, she is holding a gun at the age of 17 for fuck's sake, she almost gave it to Rafe if it wasn't for him to throw the guy off the truck, she was shocked and the first thing that came to mind was what if he did it to her and Kiara.

Rafe kept an eye on her for the entire time, they don't talk anymore and she has every right to hate him, but he kept an eye out, and he's beginning to regret every bad thing he did to her.

he was going to do anything if anyone tried to hurt her, they may never be friends again but he will try at least.

she pushed the green cover off her and sat against the truck as soon as the patrol was over, inhaling and exhaling she looked around, "I told you we just had to work together." not once did she glance at him nor Kiara did.

"All right. Listen, I'm headed out to my boat, okay? I can give you a ride out, drop both of you wherever somewhere safe. One thing though." Kiara looked at him with a frown while Y/N stared out in worry.

"Y/N look at me." with a clenched jaw she turned towards him, "I know your friends are on the island and my sister. I'm not helping them. All right? I can't trust them, okay? I'll give you a ride out, not them."

she stayed silent for a while before nodding, "I just want to get off the island," Rafe turned towards Kie who nodded as well still trying to catch her breath, "Same here."

"That's smart," he said and Y/N rolled her eyes, he really thought I was gonna leave my friends behind. JJ? her mind went back to the handsome blonde, is he alright? did he get caught by Singh?

running a hand through her hair in frustration, pushing it away from her face she leaned back, inhaling and exhaling to keep her anxiety down before she has a mental breakdown.

She could hear Rafe talk to Kie about how he always liked her and that she's at least half Kook, Y/N scoffed, "Half Kook, is it a nationality or something?"

Rafe fought the urge to roll his eyes, "do you have to be sarcastic every time?" he asked making her turn towards him in annoyance, "Do you have to be such a jerk every time?" Y/N retorted, her voice filled with frustration.

Rafe looked taken aback for a moment before his expression hardened. "I'm not the one who brought a gun to a patrol, Y/N," he said, his voice cold.

Y/N bristled at the accusation, "I only brought the gun because I didn't trust you to keep us safe, as if you didn't hold a gun many times and aimed it at me," she said, her voice rising.

Rafe shook his head, looking exasperated. "You don't trust anyone, Y/N. That's the problem," he said, his voice tinged with annoyance, she didn't say another word, way too tired to argue.

"After what you have done to me, I will never trust you," Kiara watched them back and forth, "I did you a solid," he replied staring ahead, "You told everyone that we fucked, told everyone about my relationship with my father, and... you tried to kill Kie and aimed a gun at me." said Y/N.

Rafe tried to say something, but couldn't, so he closed his mouth.

Soon she hopped off the truck and landed beside Kiara with a thud, "Come on. My boat's down here." both the girls followed him towards a white big boat.

"Make sure your shoes are off. both of you." he ordered and the girls stood still, "Okay, we should have enough juice to get us to Saint Lucia, no problem."

he noticed them still standing there, "Hey, get in the boat, Y/N! Kie!" he exclaimed watching them intensely, Kie spoke, "You're not gonna pull anything if we get in?" she asked the boy who sighed in vexation.

"No, I'm not gonna pull anything, okay? I'm trying to do you a solid here. You really wanna be back there with Singh, or do you wanna be somewhere safe? Now can one of you help me with the bowline?"

they finally did as told, Y/N kept her socks on as she climbed the boat, "Go help him with the bowline, I'll check around," Kiara nodded and the girl immediately moved around.

the sound of grunting caught her attention and Y/N raced outside, Kiara jumped on the boat and Y/N ran towards the railing seeing Rafe in the water, "oh shit!" she exclaimed looking at Kiara with wide eyes.

The girl started the boat and immediately took control, Rafe yelled and called out for the girls, and for the first time in a while, she felt a pang in her heart.

she felt bad but she had nothing to do, she had to save the Pogues.

"Kie! Where are you going?!" he exclaimed making her wince and look at him with a scrunched nose, "I've gotta help my friends!" yelled Kiara and the boat started moving.

"You don't know what you're doing! Hey!" he panted and threw his arms around, "Shit! I'll find you, Kie! I'll find you! you're both gonna regret this shit. Y/N! You're done!"

she gulped, "I'm sorry!" she yelled back turning around and making her way up to stand beside Kiara, "don't you think that's a little too far?" she asked the brown-haired girl who looked back at the boy, "maybe. please send them our location."

The girl nodded taking the phone and looking back at poor struggling Rafe, it's a bit too far, isn't it? She thought.

Y/N couldn't help but feel guilty as she watched Rafe struggling in the water. She knew that leaving him behind was harsh, but she also knew that she had to help her friends.

As Kiara drove the boat towards their destination, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of unease, she didn't know what was going to happen next, but she knew that they were in for a rough ride, what if Carlos found them again and this time he kills her.

"Are you okay?" Kiara asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N nodded, her mind still racing, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... worried about what's going to happen next," she said, her voice filled with uncertainty.

"Do you have that gun?" asked Kiara again, Y/N nodded and pulled out the gun from behind her, "we are definitely going to jail," sighed the girl, "hey, it's just for protection."

"Yeah..."

With that they fell silent, the boat racing towards their destination, gun at the ready, waiting for the teenagers to appear, Kiara wrapped her arm around Y/N's shoulders and the girl stared ahead.

"I'm sorry...if I suspected you, I shouldn't have been harsh on you," started Kiara glancing at Y/N who threw herself on the chair in tiredness, her heart still hammering against her chest.

"Its fine, I get it Kie," she smiled at her and tapped the location on the screen, before putting her phone by her side and closing her eyes, "I would've done the same." Kiara smiled brightly and laughed.

"We will end up in jail one day, girl," she spoke making her laugh, "definitely, I regret leaving that dress back though, it was so pretty," Kiara nodded in agreement, "so sexy,"

***

Y/N leaned against the fence, thinking about everything, her finger tapped anxiously against the railing as she waited until the sight of a blue shirt and familiar blonde hair caught her eyes.

She frowned, who is he? why was he looking around? As soon as the boy turned around and his eyes caught Y/N, she froze, like time stopped and nothing mattered only their eyes meeting one another's.

The hues of E/C mixing in with the blue and the hint of turquoise, sharp features, pink cheeks thanks to the sun.

"JJ?" she called jumping off and racing down the small stairs trying not to slip, the boy was completely frozen, "JJ." she ran and the boy finally walked, every muscle in his body easing.

She threw herself on him, his strong arms wrapped around her so tightly as he pulled her to his body even closer, she ran her hand through his hair, tears blurring her vision.

"Y/N," JJ breathed out in the crook of her neck, lips brushing against her delicate skin, his voice filled with relief, she pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, hand reaching to cup his cheek lovingly.

"Wow! I didn't think I'd see you ever again." she said her voice trembling but there was that beautiful smile on her lips, JJ tilted his head with a smile and studied her with his grip not once leaving her, "Yeah, but I'm here now. Okay? It's all right. It's all right." he said pulling her again towards him.

Her arms wrapped around him so tightly, JJ never wanted to pull away, her lips ghosting on his neck was inexpressible, JJ felt his heart racing as Y/N's lips brushed against his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

He had missed her so much, and he couldn't believe that she was finally here with him, worry ate him alive the past day when she wasn't by his side, and now he was cherishing the moment they were finally reunited.

They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, finding solace in the embrace.

"I can't believe you're here," Y/N murmured, her voice filled with a mix of joy and disbelief, "I thought... I thought I had lost you." JJ's grip tightened around her, and his voice was soft as an angel, "I'm here, Y/N. I'm not going anywhere," he reassured her, and he was right, he was never going to leave her ever again, he wasn't going to let someone take her from him.

"We'll get through this together."

JJ's smile widened, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear from Y/N's cheek, he didn't care about anything but holding her to him, god he loved her.

and then after a hot minute of staring into one another's eyes, he finally pulled away as the others rushed over, JJ finally pulled away and as soon as her hand left his cheek he felt that coldness come back and then he hugged Kiara.

Sarah was on the verge of tears when she came to Y/N, she pulled her into a bear-crushing hug one that made the girl gasp for breath but she didn't complain.

"I was scared you and Kie got hurt," she said with a smile on her lips, Y/N smiled at her friend and kissed her forehead before hugging John B, Pope, and Cleo.

"I'm a Pogue, girly, me and Kie never get hurt," and of course, John B decided to be stupid, apparently the church bell ringing was the same one his dad used to ring to call him home.

Because as soon as he left, Carlos's men appeared and started shooting and if it wasn't Kiara starting the boat one would've gotten shot certainly, JJ was yet again exploding with anger as they left the island and if it wasn't JB calling, and telling them to go back to Outer Banks the boy would've drove himself mad that's for sure.

Kiara went down with the others to rest after a whole day of chaos, there was surprisingly a shower in the boat, that was how rich Rafe is, while JJ went to take a shower after Pope and Cleo were done, Sarah was sitting by Y/N's side overthinking.

"you're overthinking again," started Y/N keeping her eyes glued in front of her, Sarah snapped out of it and smiled at her friend, "Yeah, I guess I can't help it sometimes," Sarah admitted with a sheepish smile, leaning back against the wall of the boat. "There's just so much going on, and I can't help but worry, i'm worried about John B."

Y/N turned to face Sarah, her expression filled with empathy. "I understand," she said softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Sarah's arm, "It's natural to feel overwhelmed in situations like this. We're in this together babe, and your boyfriend found gold once, nothing bad will happen to that guy." she chuckled softly.

"I mean, look at the adventures we've been through with him. We always manage to find a way, even when the odds seem impossible. And with John B leading the charge, it's bound to be one hell of a journey." it was true, this was all because of John B.

Sarah smiled at the girl's words and wrapped her arms around her shoulder pulling her into a hug, "thank you for everything," she whispered kissing her friend's forehead, "Anything for you." and with their arms linked, silence fell.

"so what's going between you and JJ, you think I haven't noticed the heart eyes," started Sarah nudging her friend who stared ahead as if she didn't hear her, "You know how JJ is. He's just being JJ," she replied cheeks burning red.

Sarah raised an eyebrow skeptically, not buying Y/N's attempt at brushing off the topic, "Uh-huh, just JJ being JJ, huh?" she said, her tone filled with playful sarcasm, "I've seen the way you two look at each other. There's definitely something more going on."

Y/N couldn't help but smile, her gaze softening as she glanced at Sarah, "Okay, fine," she admitted, shaking her head softly and keeping her hand on the steering wheel, "Maybe there's something between us. It's hard not to feel a connection with someone when you've been through so much together."

Sarah's smile widened, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "I knew it!" she exclaimed, squealing so loudly that she had to put her hand over the girl's mouth, "hush you!" Sarah moved her head away and beamed.

"You guys are adorable together. I ship it!"

and then JJ appeared, ruffling his blonde hair with a towel and he frowned at the girls, "Ship who?" Y/N pinched Sarah's side just as the girl opened her mouth to answer, urging her to keep her mouth shut.

Sarah winced at the pinch but quickly caught on, suppressing her laughter and keeping her lips sealed.

JJ furrowed his brow at the exchange, his curiosity piqued as he approached the two girls, "What's going on?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion, "You guys seem like you're up to something."

Y/N flashed JJ a sweet smile, trying to maintain her composure. "Oh, nothing," she replied casually, her voice innocent. "Just girl talk, you know?"

Sarah nodded vigorously, feigning seriousness. "Yeah, just some girl talk," she chimed in, her eyes dancing with mischief.

JJ's frown deepened, clearly not convinced by their response but didn't insist, "I'll leave you guys together~" with that Sarah disappeared down the stairs while wiggling her eyebrows behind JJ.

JJ watched Sarah disappear down the stairs, a bemused expression on his face as he caught a glimpse of her mischievous eyebrow wiggle. He shook his head with a chuckle, turning his attention back to Y/N.

"Well, that was interesting," JJ remarked, a playful glint in his eyes. "I wonder what she's up to."

Y/N shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Who knows with Sarah," she replied, her voice filled with amusement, "She's always full of surprises." He nodded and took a seat.

She stared at the sea and glanced at JJ, “you certainly know the way to Outer Banks right…?” she said awkwardly pushing herself slightly to the side, the boy shook his head and stood up looking for a map.

He examined it and then around, “yes ma’am, just head right straight up to the sun, we’ll reach at almost night fall,” she shook her head at his orders and did as told, saluting him with a grin on her lips.

They stayed silent, it was never quiet between them so this wasn’t usual, he stood by her side, always taller and shielding her from the world, even if she wasn’t that short, he was a giraffe, growing every day probably.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” he finally spoke, making her turn to him in confusion, she furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head to the side, she always did that when she was confused, sometimes scrunched her nose as well.

“Rafe.” He uttered his name like it was poison, if eyes could kill; poor Rafe would be dead all the way from Barbados.

She chuckled softly and lifted her silk top revealing the gun, “now if he did I wouldn’t have this now, would I?” she said sarcastically, and JJ swore he fell in love right there and then, his girl had a mother fucking gun.

Innocent and sweet Y/N from about 8 months ago was no longer there, this was Y/N mother fucking Maybank, god his last name fit perfectly with her.

“Atta girl, now that’s what I am talking about,” he added putting his back against hers and pointing his gun playfully, back when he was young, he and John B used to do it with those army plastic toys from Walmart (or make some using paper) and now he is doing it with his lover with real guns.

“That’s some John Wick shit, right there!” he exclaimed, Y/N took her own gun and pointed it around, partners in crime, she felt like Black Widow for fuck’s sake, this was dangerous, but danger can be fun.

They both laughed but she suddenly spoke, “hey it’s better we throw it away in the ocean, cops will investigate here and then us once we’re there,” she said throwing the gun in the sea, it had a single bullet anyways.

JJ kept his and looked at it longingly, “is there no damn camera?” he asked looking around and then she looked around, “look at the drawers,” she suggested turning back to the wheel, JJ looked around and after a good 10 minutes, a polaroid camera caught his eye, it had the initials “W.C”

Wheezie Cameron.

They both gave one another bright wicked smiles and she grabbed the camera, “pose mister Wick,” she said pulling the camera closer and closing one eye, snapping a picture of JJ grinning like an idiot while holding the gun with both hands showing his dimples, she laughed and took another one, one where he was more serious.

“It’s perfect,” she said with a smile holding the polaroid in hand, JJ scrunched his nose and shook his head trying to grab them, “absolutely not. Usually I would say no shit Sherlock but-“ She elbowed him cutting him off.

“They’re not yours at all, they’re mine” she said with a matter of fact tone putting the picture in her pocket, JJ hated how his cheekbones turned red and the way he stared at her, oh so lovingly, his heart suddenly started hammering against his chest in a speed of light, like it always did when he was with her.

They say that back then, a star used to lead a captain’s way on the ship, or whatever, JJ sucked at history, got an F in his last exam, hell he was surprised he didn't get a -F, if that even existed, only good date he managed to have right was when was the Fourth of July.

Ironic. heh, forth of july, the day he held her on a random rooftop.

And if it was true, then she was his star, his star girl, pretty E/C eyes, H/C hair, tanned skin, rosy cheeks due to the rays of sun and their stay in the island, and the salty water made her skin glow.

Fucking hell he wanted to kiss her, so so badly.

JJ looked away and grabbed the camera, snapping a picture of her staring ahead, and she noticed of course, raising an eyebrow at him so his first instinct was to beam innocently at her and sneakily take the picture that came out, “at least take a good picture,” she said in amusement.

He was surprised, for a second he thought she was going to yell at him until her words caught him off guard, “deal,” he said gesturing her to turn around, putting on the fake act of a professional photographer, classic JJ.

She leaned against the wheel and fixed her clothes, hair and then looked at him reassuringly, tilting her head to the side and JJ swore he was about to fucking faint, and he wasn't being dramatic. the sun kissing her skin and making her look like an angel descending from heaven, that for a second he sat there, admiring.

And after snapping out of thoughts, he took a picture, and as she waited for it to appear, he stared, lips pursed tightly and he swallowed, and once it did and she towered over his kneeling form, her hair fell around her like curtains that she pushed it away with a frustrated groan.

His eyes fell on her lips, a single move is all he needed, if he lifted himself just a little bit, he can capture her lips then-

“it’s cute, I guess, I look a damn duck but whatever,” she said pushing herself away with a chuckle, JJ didn’t know what to say, she was perfect, in every way, in so many ways that he couldn’t describe it all, his stare could, it did and that was why the tips of her ear burned red.

"you're not a duck,"

And as he rose to his feet, the boat suddenly moved and he went to her, his hand automatically went to hold her waist and pull her to him just as she was about to fall back, his other hand went to grip the wheel and his body pressed against hers in a matter of seconds.

Her hand gripping his shoulder in fear to fall and humiliate herself in front of her crush, the other on his chest, right on top of his hammering heart that she could feel it thunder against her palm, his hand though, right on her waist, his fingertips right on the spot where her skin was a little revealed making every hair in her body rise.

Her blood ran hot and they both stared at each other, absolutely love-struck, eyes in the shape of hearts and heart beating in sync, getting louder and louder in their ears, her chest went up and down as the air suddenly left.

And she swore she noticed him lean in, tilting his head slightly to the side and she moved as well, eyes dropping to his lips and then went up to his eyes- is it happening? Is it finally happening?

His nose bumped hers, the faintest brush of his lower lip on her upper one and she took a leap of faith to press her lips against his, hey, god was with her and giving her a sign might as well take it.

JJ didn't even hesitate to put a hand on her nape and pull her closer spinning so she leaned against the wheel, her eyes fluttered shut and wrapped an arm around his neck pulling him down so she could land back on the balls of her feet as her heart skipped yet another beat, her pulse drumming with each passing second.

The world around them seemed to vanish, the only sound left was the gentle splash of the water against the boat, the waves mirroring the rhythm of their kiss—soft, tentative at first, then JJ parted her lips with his own, deepening the kiss as if they were drawn into each other by some magnetic force.

JJ's fingers adorned by rings right on her nape and moving to hold her as he stepped closer to tower over her causing her to use her arm and pull him closer, parting her lips.

"oh shit-" someone breathed out causing her to freeze, JJ pulled away and looked back, there stood Pope, he gave them finger guns and left in a hurry.

"Uhm, well that was," started Y/N lips rosy thanks to him, "great," she shook her head turning to the wheel and tried not to smile like an idiot, "you should go see him."

"yeah I should- this shithead-" he said in frustration before turning to Y/N, "I'm not done with you, Stargirl."

"yeah I'm sure, fuck off, Starboy," she flipped him off. Yeah she'll be damned if she regrets it just because Pope stepped in, not he will never make out with Cleo? she will bet a hundred dollars once in outer banks, he damn will.

****

Author note: guess what bitches? I got my computer back, feeding you hoes with JJ, my beloved husband, oh and I still haven't watched season 4 so I beg don't spoil. I hope you enjoyed it my lovely babies<333333 Thank you so much for the likes on every single thing I wrote, I appreciate it so much, miss you all and let me know what you think.

There will be a Part 3, just currently focusing more on my book so, but I'll make sure you guys got it!

special hashtag to these pookies (who likely hate my ass for not posting in so long, sorry homies don't burn my house<3): @loves0phelia , @nirvanalivesdilfs , @thekidscallmebosss , @@ladyinbl00d , @talyaaas-blog

ly.

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aceyalonso · 4 months ago

Text

daddy's home - JENSON BUTTON

pairing : sugar daddy!jenson button x sugar baby!reader

summary : art and money have always been the two constants in y/n's life, what happens when those two constants result in a sugar daddy who happens to own an art gallery?

warnings/notes : swearing, smut, protected sex (please use a condom!), daddy kink, oral (both!receiving), face-fucking, multiple orgasms, photography and filming (in an nsfw context), nipple play, hair pulling, fingering, public-ish sex, praise kink, use of "baby" and "daddy"

word count : 2.5k

a/n : I KEEP THINKING OF GOJO CUZ OF THE TITLE LMFAOOOO (probs gonna change the title)

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

Jenson stood in the center of his gallery, the soft glow of the lights illuminating the various paintings and sculptures that adorned the walls. He smiled as he heard the click of heels approaching, turning to see Y/n walking towards him, her hips swaying seductively with each step.

"There you are, my dear," Jenson purred, his eyes roaming over Y/n's curvaceous figure appreciatively. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up."

Y/n giggled, pressing herself against Jenson's firm chest. "And miss out on seeing the new collection? Never." She leaned in, her lips brushing against Jenson's ear as she whispered, "Besides, I had a feeling you might have something special planned for us tonight."

Jenson chuckled, his hand sliding down to rest on Y/n's lower back. "Oh, I always have something special in mind when it comes to you, my sweet." He led her further into the gallery, pointing out various pieces as they walked.

As they made their way through the gallery, Jenson couldn't take his eyes off Y/n's alluring figure. Her tight dress hugged her curves in all the right places, and he found himself growing harder with each step.

"This piece here is particularly striking," Jenson said, gesturing to a large abstract painting. "The way the colors blend together, it's almost... sensual."

Y/n tilted her head, studying the painting. "Mmm, I can see that. It's quite... stimulating." She turned to face Jenson, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Almost as stimulating as the way you're looking at me right now."

Jenson's breath hitched as Y/n pressed her body against his, her hands roaming over his chest. "You're playing with fire, little one," he growled, his voice low and husky.

"Maybe I like the heat," Y/n purred, her lips hovering just inches from his.

Jenson couldn't hold back any longer. He grabbed Y/n's waist and spun her around, pinning her against the wall with his body. His lips crashed against hers in a hungry kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to taste her sweetness.

Y/n moaned into the kiss, her fingers tangling in Jenson's hair as she arched her back, pressing her ample breasts against his chest. She could feel his hardness pressing insistently against her thigh, and it only fueled her desire.

Jenson's hands roamed over Y/n's body, caressing her curves and leaving trails of fire in their wake. He gripped her ass, squeezing the supple flesh as he ground his hips against hers.

"You drive me crazy," Jenson groaned, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down Y/n's neck. "I can't get enough of you."

Jenson continued to place kisses along Y/n's neck, relishing in the taste of her skin. However, he felt her push him away gently, and he looked up to see a nervous expression on her face.

"What if someone sees us?" Y/n asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Jenson smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Don't worry, my dear. This part of the gallery is closed to the public for the moment. But even if someone did see us, who cares? Let them watch."

Y/n's eyes widened at Jenson's words, a mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through her veins. She bit her lower lip, considering the thrill of being caught in such a compromising position.

"You're right," she whispered, her voice filled with a newfound confidence. "Let them watch."

Y/n's hands moved swiftly, tugging at Jenson's blazer and unbuttoning his dress shirt with a sense of urgency. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, to lose herself in the heat of the moment.

Jenson watched her with a hungry gaze, his own hands working to remove her dress. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a lacy bra and panties. He drank in the sight of her, his eyes roaming over her exposed flesh appreciatively.

"You're absolutely breathtaking," Jenson murmured, his voice thick with desire. He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of her breast, teasing her hardened nipple through the thin material of her bra.

Y/n gasped, arching into his touch. She reached behind her back, unclasping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts bounced free, and Jenson couldn't resist leaning down to capture one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive bud.

Y/n's breath hitched as Jenson's mouth worked on her nipple, her fingers threading through his hair. The sensation was too much, and she found herself arching into him, her body begging for more.

"Daddy, please..." she moaned, the word slipping out without her realizing.

Jenson's eyes flashed with lust, the endearment sending a shiver down his spine. He released her nipple with a pop, his gaze locking onto hers. "What do you want, my sweet little girl?"

Y/n's cheeks flushed, her eyes dark with desire. "I want you to take me, right here, against this wall."

Jenson grinned, his cock throbbing in anticipation. "Consider it done." With that, he slid his hand between Y/n's legs, finding her already wet and ready for him. He slipped a finger inside her, feeling her clench around him.

"Oh, fuck," Y/n breathed, her head falling back as she felt the exquisite pleasure building within her.

Y/n's moans echoed through the gallery as Jenson's fingers worked their magic inside her. She couldn't help but cry out, "Daddy, oh god, daddy!" as he expertly stroked her most sensitive spots.

"That's it, baby," Jenson growled, his voice low and husky. "Let everyone hear how much you love daddy's fingers inside you."

Y/n's body trembled with each thrust of Jenson's fingers, her juices coating his hand. She could feel her climax approaching, her muscles tensing as she neared the edge.

"Fuck, daddy, I'm gonna cum," she panted, her nails digging into Jenson's shoulders. "Please, don't stop!"

Jenson increased his pace, his thumb rubbing circles around her clit as he continued to plunge his fingers deep inside her. "Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you love daddy."

As Y/n's orgasm crashed over her, she buried her face in the crook of Jenson's neck, muffling her screams of ecstasy. Her body shook with the force of her climax, her inner walls clenching around Jenson's fingers as she rode out the waves of pleasure.

Jenson held her close, his own arousal straining against his pants. He could feel her heart racing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she slowly came down from her high.

"That was incredible," Jenson murmured, his lips brushing against Y/n's ear. "But we're not done yet, are we?"

Y/n pulled back, her eyes hazy with lust. "No, we're not," she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. She reached for Jenson's belt, quickly undoing it and tugging his pants and boxers down in one swift motion.

Y/n's eyes widened as Jenson's impressive member sprang free, standing at attention and begging for her touch. She licked her lips, her gaze locked onto his throbbing cock.

"Can I suck you off, daddy?" she asked, her voice dripping with desire.

Jenson groaned, his hips bucking forward involuntarily. "Fuck yes, baby. I want to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock."

Y/n wasted no time, dropping to her knees and taking Jenson's shaft into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the tip, savoring the taste of his pre-cum before taking him deeper.

Jenson's head fell back, his eyes closing in bliss as Y/n worked her magic. Her mouth was hot and wet, and the sensation of her tongue sliding along his length was driving him wild.

Y/n's mouth felt incredible, and Jenson couldn't hold back any longer. He grabbed her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he began to thrust into her mouth.

"Oh, fuck, baby," Jenson groaned, his hips moving faster and harder with each passing second. "Your mouth feels so damn good."

Y/n moaned around his cock, the vibrations sending shivers of pleasure through Jenson's body. She relaxed her throat, taking him deeper as he fucked her face with abandon.

Jenson could feel his climax approaching, his balls tightening as he neared the edge. He looked down at Y/n, her eyes watering and her lips stretched around his shaft, and the sight only spurred him on.

"I'm gonna cum, baby," Jenson warned, his voice strained with the effort to hold back. "Swallow every last drop for daddy."

Y/n nodded eagerly, her hand moving to cup his balls, gently massaging them as he continued to thrust into her mouth.

With a final, powerful thrust, Jenson buried himself deep in Y/n's throat, his cock pulsing as he released his load. Y/n swallowed greedily, her throat working to take every last drop of his essence.

Jenson's body shuddered with the intensity of his orgasm, his grip on Y/n's hair tightening as he rode out the waves of pleasure. As he finally pulled out, he saw strands of his cum dripping down Y/n's chin, and the sight made his spent cock twitch.

"You look so beautiful like this," Jenson murmured, his thumb wiping away the remnants of his release from Y/n's lips. "My perfect little cum slut."

Y/n smiled up at him, her eyes shining with adoration and satisfaction. "Thank you, daddy," she purred, her voice husky from the rough treatment her throat had just received.

Jenson helped her to her feet, his hands roaming over her body appreciatively. "You're welcome, baby. You did such a good job, I think you deserve a reward."

He led her further into the gallery, to a secluded alcove where a plush chaise lounge awaited. Jenson guided Y/n onto the lounge, positioning her on her hands and knees. He knelt behind her, his fingers trailing up her thighs, teasing the sensitive skin.

"Spread your legs for daddy," Jenson commanded, his voice low and authoritative. "I wanna see you."

Y/n complied, her legs parting to reveal her glistening folds. Jenson groaned, his cock already hardening again at the sight. He leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste her, his fingers spreading her open for better access.

Jenson's tongue delved into Y/n's wetness, flicking and circling her clit as his fingers continued to spread her wide. Y/n moaned, her head falling forward onto the chaise lounge as she arched her back, her body begging for more.

"Please, daddy, I need you inside me," she pleaded, her voice shaking with need.

Jenson smiled against her folds, his fingers slipping inside her as he continued to torment her clit with his tongue. "Not yet, baby. I want to make you scream first."

Y/n's hips bucked, her body trembling as Jenson's expert ministrations brought her closer and closer to the edge. She could feel her climax building once more, the tension coiling within her.

"Daddy, I'm gonna cum," she cried out, her body tensing as she approached the peak. "Please, let me..."

Jenson removed his fingers and tongue, leaving Y/n panting and desperate for release. "Not yet," he repeated, his voice firm. "You'll cum when I'm inside you."

Y/n whimpered, her body aching for release as Jenson teased her mercilessly. She could feel the heat pooling in her core, her juices dripping down her thighs as she begged for him to take her.

"Please, daddy, I need you so badly," she pleaded, her voice raw with desperation. "I can't take it anymore."

Jenson chuckled, his hand reaching into his wallet to retrieve a condom. He tore open the packet, rolling the latex down his length with practiced ease. "I know, baby. I'm going to give you exactly what you need."

He positioned himself behind Y/n, the head of his cock teasing her entrance. With a swift thrust, he buried himself inside her, filling her completely.

"Oh, fuck, yes!" Y/n cried out, her body stretching to accommodate his size. "You feel so good, daddy."

Jenson groaned, his hips beginning to move in a steady rhythm. "You're so tight, baby. Your pussy feels amazing."

Jenson pulled out of Y/n, causing her to whine in protest. He reached into his pocket, retrieving his phone. "Hold on, baby," he said, his voice tinged with excitement. "I want to capture this moment."

Y/n's eyes widened as Jenson set his phone up, positioning it to catch their every movement. "Daddy, are you going to..." she trailed off, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

Jenson grinned, his eyes filled with lust as he repositioned himself behind Y/n. "Yes, baby. I want to see that pretty face of yours on video. Besides, it's a turn-on knowing someone might walk in and see us."

Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing as Jenson resumed his thrusts. The thought of being caught only added to the excitement.

"Fuck, daddy, you're so big," Y/n moaned, her voice thick with pleasure. "I never knew sex could be this good."

Jenson's phone captured every movement, every sound, and every expression of pleasure on Y/n's face. The camera lens zoomed in on her bouncing breasts, her face contorted in ecstasy, and the way her body writhed beneath him.

"Look at you, baby," Jenson growled, his hips snapping forward with increased force. "You're so fucking sexy. I can't get enough of you."

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body trembling as she neared her climax once again. "Daddy, I'm so close," she panted, her nails digging into the fabric of the chaise lounge. "Please, don't stop."

Jenson could feel his own release approaching, his balls tightening as he pounded into Y/n's willing body. He reached around, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it in tight circles, pushing her over the edge.

Y/n's moans grew louder and more intense as Jenson's fingers worked her clit, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm. Her cries of pleasure echoed through the gallery, and it was clear that anyone on that floor could hear her.

"Oh, god, daddy, yes!" Y/n screamed, her body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. "I'm cumming!"

Jenson groaned, his own climax triggered by the sound of Y/n's ecstasy. He thrust into her one last time, his cock pulsing as he released inside her. The condom muffled the sensation, but the feeling of his hot seed filling the latex was still incredibly satisfying.

As they both came down from their highs, Jenson reached for his phone, turning it off and pocketing it. He pulled out of Y/n, discarding the used condom before turning his attention back to her.

Jenson pulled Y/n into his arms, his lips finding hers in a passionate kiss. He poured all of his desire and affection into the kiss, his tongue dancing with hers as he savored her taste.

When they finally broke apart, Jenson cupped Y/n's face in his hands, his eyes shining with admiration. "You were incredible, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine praise. "The way you submitted to me, the sounds you made... it was perfect."

Y/n blushed, her heart swelling with pride at Jenson's words. "Thank you, daddy," she whispered, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "You made me feel so good."

Jenson smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm glad, baby. You deserve to feel that way"

Y/n giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "As much as I'd love to stay in your arms forever, I should probably go get my dress from the other room before someone comes looking for us."

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore

kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world

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slightly-knot-insane · 8 days ago

Text

Centaur Riding Class (part 2)

Monstertober 2024 - day 28 [ Greek Mythology ] by @/ozzgin

[ part 1 ]

[ m!centaur (+ fem!centaur) x fem!reader ]

a/n: the second part! the male centaur won, but because there were a couple of fem thirsty comments (and i really like the girl centaur) she will make a little cameo here too :3 content: nsfw, wlw, fingering, squirting, p in v, belly bulge, creampie

You scratch the back of your head. "You both seem amazing... I can't..."

Luckily your friend recognizes the signs of your anxiety edging you. "Oh, I know her taste, she would love to be with the handsome gentleman over there."

You stutter incoherently, not actually disagreeing, but mostly feeling utterly embarrassed. Your friend almost tosses you toward the black-haired centaur and he gracefully catches you by your arm bowing down all the way to the line where his human torso stops and horse body starts. "She has good taste," he winks and you can hear the red-haired centaur chuckle. "I think you and I need to get somewhere more private."

With a teasing wave your friend sees you off.

As soon as you walk around the corner, the centaur stops you by gently pulling you by the shoulder. As soon as you turn towards him, he tilts your head up. "Are you disappointed? Trust me, you won't regret my company one bit, sweet human."

You look into his beautiful eyes and let him brush your lower lip with his thumb. "No, of course not." You barely stop yourself from taking his finger into your mouth.

"Good." His expression dims into a more serious one. "Also, just to make sure, you do know this is actually a brothel?"

"Oh thank god!" Your sigh of relief makes your companion flinch. "I was scared I was actually going to ride you. That sounded terrifying."

With an intense but amused shock, the man in front of you laughs. "Well, that wasn't reaction I expected. But I'm glad. Would you like to take a shower together or would you prefer to clean privately?"

You look at his massive body and imagine his shiny hair glistening from water. Soaping his back and stomach, muscles and shoulders and neck. And then his hands... You shake your head quickly - it was too much to even daydream about it right now. "I would rather bathe alone."

He nods, with a sly smirk, and you could swear he looked at your crotch as if he sensed your wetness. He leads you in front of a door to a huge bathroom and bends down. He lifts you with his arms, more massive than any that ever held you, and whispers into your ear: "I know humans prefer to bathe more frequently than us. Centaurs enjoy the natural smells, the musk, all the juices. Your aroma is delicious and I would love to mount you immediately, but your comfort is important to me." His husky voice makes you shiver. Is it too late to change your mind?

You enter the large bathroom and find an empty stall to remove your clothes. You take a towel and pull the curtain - only to meet an equally naked red-haired centaur. She bites her lip. "Well isn't this my lucky day. Let's shower together, beautiful."

She leads you into a huge shower stall, big enough to fit both of you. The broad showerhead sprays you with light droplets and you can enjoy watching them slide down her muscles. She flexes with almost a childish expression. "I can carry you with one arm, human! Wanna see?" And she swoops you onto her massive bicep. You always forget that centaurs are significantly larger than people. And a lot stronger. You blush feeling your naked ass rubbing against her firm muscle.

"If you kiss me, I'll make you squirt around my fingers until you count to 100."

You blink in surprise, but she doesn't let you answer. She bites your lower lip and easily slides into your cunt. You start counting. Somewhere around 53, you lose track, your arms desperately clutching around her neck while she curls her fingers against your g-spot. "Fuck... Fuck... Fuuuuuck...." you moan without breath right into her mouth.

She pulls her fingers out and a jet of your squirt splashes against her tits. "Good girl. Let's get you ready for your date."

You mutually soap and rinse each other, and she helps you into a silky robe. "Next time, you're mine," she winks at you, and escorts you down the hall. "Your stallion awaits you."

And he truly is - naked - looking through the window while rubbing his plump lips. His dark brown skin is covered in tiny black curls all over his chest down to his navel. Below navel there is a horse chest, of course, and you can't help but look for his exposed sheath between his hind legs. You swallow imagining what is hiding behind it.

His smile is radiant as he walks toward you. "I'm glad you had fun showering." He circles around you, the sound of his hooves echoing through the bedroom. "Quite a bit of fun it would seem. Which really pleases me since you do smell divine now."

He stops behind you and pushes his hands underneath your robe. His fingers are so gentle, feather-light, until he finds you breasts and squeezes them. His palms are hot against your nipples. He kneels behind you before his lips end up on your neck, igniting all the nerves under your skin. The hair on your body stands up, almost vibrating. "What a delicate creatures you humans are." He takes a bite just underneath your jaw. "I can't wait to mount you."

Completely dazed from his caresses, with eyes closed, you fly and float until he takes your arm and kisses your wrist again. "Hold this for me, beautiful."

You are on the contraption you saw centaur-human couples use for intercourses. You are on your back, legs spread and laying on something soft with your hips wedged. You need to hold two handles which actually help you adjust your body. Centaur's front hooves are on both sides of your arms, but he's kneeling, his stomach slightly pushing against your chest. "Have you ever been with a stallion?"

The way he asked you that, above you, low and hungry, stimulated a throb into your bundle of nerves. "No."

"Perfect..." he purrs, and a slippery mass slides against your thighs. "I love being the first. I love setting the bar high for all the lovers that will take your hole after me. You will never be the same, beautiful. I will stretch you so much that only centaur cocks will be able to satisfy you."

You whimper, slightly intimidated and look down at his phallus emerging between your legs. It is so long, and leaking all over your stomach. "Fuck. It's huge."

"Don't worry. I'll go easy. I'm a professional after all."

And he truly is. He only grinds at first, rubbing his preputial ring against your folds. He listens to your pants, feeling your heartbeat and slows down or speeds up until you're a shivering and drooling mess. He doesn't let you orgasm. "Yes, beautiful. You need to be lubricated for me and my cock. I want to push it inside you all the way."

He is breathing heavily, rocking his body until slowly - very slowly - he pushes his tip inside you. You've never been stretched that much, it's so intense and you grab the handles to readjust your body on the contraption. "That's right," he pants. "Aaah... Make yourself comfortable... You will stay there until I'm finished, human."

Again, he listens to your moans and whimpers as signals when to push harder or pull out. You hardly feel any pain and you truly are surprised to see your stomach moving. His cock is so deep inside you can feel it through your navel. "Oh fuck! It's so... so deep..."

"That's right. I'm almost completely in... And you are so perfectly tight! And now I'll fuck you until you burn from pleasure."

Everything after that is a blur. You remember coming once, shaking as if a fever overpowered you, screaming. You think you orgasmed at least once more? And you remember how your stomach inflated when he ejaculated and filled you with his hot seed. You do not remember how he carefully untied your from the contraption and carried you into the bed, blissfully happy, your pussy overflowing from his semen. Maybe he kissed your clammy forehead, maybe not. But you remember having the sweetest dreams about riding centaurs that night.

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natsaffection · 6 months ago

Note

hiiii request idea> g!p officer nat and reader whos a bit tipsy and was speeding over the limit thankssss 🤭🤭

The Ticket. | N.R

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! G!P Natasha, Blow job, restraints, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: 1,5k

A/N: 🫠🫠🫠🫠

You gripped the steering wheel, your eyes focused on the empty road ahead. The night was calm, the city lights a blur as you sped down the highway. The adrenaline rush from the speed made you feel alive, a stark contrast to your otherwise monotonous days.

Suddenly, flashing blue and red lights filled your rearview mirror, accompanied by the blare of a siren. You cursed under your breath and eased off the gas, pulling over to the side of the road. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched the police car come to a stop behind you.

A figure emerged from the vehicle, illuminated by the flashing lights. Natasha Romanoff, clad in her police uniform, approached your car with a confident stride. She tapped on the window with her flashlight, and you quickly rolled it down. Blinked when you saw her.

"License and registration, please." You handed over your documents, your hands slightly trembling. "Miss, do you know why I stopped you?" Natasha asked, her piercing green eyes locking onto yours.

"Uh, I... guess I was speeding.." you stammered. Natasha smirked, leaning down slightly to get a better look at you. "You guess? You were going at least twenty over the limit. That's a hefty fine and some points on your license."

Your heart sank. You couldn't afford a ticket right now. "Isn't there anything I can do to avoid the ticket? An exception? Please, I was careful, I swear..If someone else had come, I would have slowed down.." you begged, desperation creeping into your voice.

Natasha's smirk widened. She glanced around, making sure you were alone on the deserted road. "Well, there might be a way." she said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.

Your eyes widened as you saw the glint in Natasha's eyes. "What do you mean?" Natasha leaned in closer, her face inches away from yours. "Step out of the car, sweetheart." she commanded softly, her breath warm against your cheek.

You hesitated for a moment but then complied, your curiosity and fear warring within you. You opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air, feeling the chill against your skin.

Natasha circled around the car, her gaze never leaving you. She stopped in front of you, her presence dominating. "There's a way for you to avoid the ticket, but it requires you to be very... cooperative." she said and roaming over your body. You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of apprehension and arousal. "What do you want me to do?"

Natasha stepped closer, her body almost touching yours. She reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "I think you know." Your breath hitched as you realized what she was suggesting. "Here..?" you asked, glancing around nervously.

Natasha chuckled softly. "Yes, right here. Unless you prefer getting a ticket and possibly losing your license.." She knew exactly what Button she had to push.

Your mind raced. You knew this was wrong but there was something about Natasha's commanding presence that made it hard to resist. Slowly, you nodded. "Okay." you whispered. Natasha's smirk returned. "Good girl," she said, "Get on your knees."

Your heart pounded as you lowered yourself to the ground. Natasha unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down, revealing her impressive erection. Your eyes widened at the sight, a mix of fear and arousal flooding your senses.

"Open your mouth." Natasha ordered, her voice firm. You complied, your lips parting as Natasha guided your head forward. You took Natasha's length into your mouth, your tongue swirling around it. Natasha let out a low moan, her hand gripping your hair tightly.

"That's it," Natasha murmured, "Suck it.." You obeyed, your head bobbing as you worked your mouth over Natasha's erection. You could feel Natasha's grip tightening, hear her breathing growing heavier. The taste and sensation of Natasha in your mouth was intoxicating, and you found yourself getting more and more turned on.

Natasha noticed the change in your demeanor. Her eyes darkened with lust as she watched your eager movements. "Oh, you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

You moaned around Natasha's length, the vibration sending shivers through Natasha's body. Natasha pulled your head back, her eyes locking onto yours. "You want more, don't you?"

"F-Fuck, Yes.." you gasped, "Please, Officer.." Natasha's smirk widened. "Get in the back seat." You scrambled to your feet, opening the back door and climbing inside. Natasha followed, closing the door behind her. She pushed you down onto the seat, her hands quickly working to undress you.

"You're going to beg for it." Natasha said, her voice a mix of command and desire. "And I'm going to fuck you until you can't think straight." Your breath hitched as you felt Natasha's hands on you, the cool air of the car contrasting with the heat of your bodies. "Please.." you whimpered. "I need you.."

Natasha positioned herself between your legs, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good girl.." She entered you with a powerful thrust, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

Natasha's movements were calculated and intense, each thrust designed to drive you closer to the edge. Your moans filled the car, your body arching and trembling under Natasha's skilled touch.

"Look how desperste she get..I caught the right one.." Natasha taunted, "Fuck!" you moaned, your hands gripping the seat. "Tell me how much you want it." Natasha demanded, her thrusts becoming more urgent.

"I want it so m-much." you gasped. "Please, don't stop..!" Natasha's grip on your hips tightened as she pounded into you, the car rocking with the force of your movements. You could feel the tension building within you, a tight coil ready to snap.

With a final, powerful thrust, Natasha sent you over the edge. You screamed, your body convulsing with the force of your climax. Natasha held you steady, riding out the waves of pleasure until you were left trembling and breathless on the seat.

But Natasha wasn't done. She noticed your continued arousal, your body sensitive and twitching. Natasha grinned wickedly. "Don't think we're finished, you haven't received my load yet!" Shes flipping you onto your stomach.

"F-Fuck! I.." You tried to push back, your body too sensitive, but Natasha was having none of it. She reached into her belt and pulled out a pair of handcuffs, snapping them onto your wrists and restraining your hands behind your back. "Stay still." Your body trembled with a mix of exhaustion and renewed desire. You felt Natasha's hands on your hips again, pulling you back slightly to position you.

"You don't get to decide when this ends." She entered you again, and you cried out, your body overwhelmed by the intensity. "You're going to take everything I give you." Natasha's thrusts were relentless, her grip on your hips firm as she pounded into you.

"O-Officer! Im..Please! "Your body was a mix of pleasure and pain, every nerve ending on fire. Natasha's relentless pace drove you to the brink again, your mind a blur of sensation and submission.

"You're going to take all of me," Natasha growled, her voice thick with desire. "Feel me inside you." Your breath hitched at Natasha's words, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. "Y-Yees.." you moaned, please..g-god..cumm-"

Natasha's movements became more urgent, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Ah, here it comes.." With a final, powerful thrust, Natasha buried herself deep inside you and let out a low, primal groan as she came, filling you with her release. Your body convulsed with another powerful orgasm, your cries echoing in the car. Natasha held you steady, riding out the waves of pleasure until you were left trembling and breathless on the seat.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sounds your heavy breathing and the distant hum of the city. Natasha slowly pulled out of you, her touch softening as she helped you back into your clothes.

You turned to face Natasha, your cheeks flushed and your heart still racing. Natasha's smirk had returned, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "I think we've come to an understanding." She reached down and unlocked the handcuffs, freeing your wrists.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. You felt a mixture of exhaustion and lingering desire as you met Natasha's intense gaze. "Yeah..thank you for that." you whispered. Natasha leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against your lips, a surprising tenderness after the intensity of your encounter. "Good girl." she murmured. "Now, get dressed."

You quickly gathered yourself, pulling your clothes back on and adjusting your appearance. You couldn't help but glance at Natasha, who was already back to her composed, authoritative self, adjusting her uniform and tucking away the handcuffs.

Natasha opened the back door of the car, allowing you to step out first. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the heat you had just shared inside the car. Natasha followed, standing close to you, her presence still dominating. "Drive safely."

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I will, thank you, officer." Natasha's smirk widened. "Good. Now, get out of here before I change my mind about that ticket."

You climbed back into your car, your mind replaying the events of the night. You started the engine and glanced back at Natasha, who was already walking back to her police car.

#natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha #natasha romanov smut

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vamptizm · 1 month ago

Text

iv. MISSION JEALOUSY — p. bueckers

pairing : paige bueckers x clover amar (oc)

synopsis : in which paige bueckers and clover amar, two uconn wbb stars, have an ongoing mission of making each other jealous and outdoing the other.

warnings : hannah hidalgo :/ homophobia. a slur being dropped. that’s all i think?

word count : 4.8k

note : was gonna add smut to this but honestly it’s taking me sooo long and it’d make the chapter too long for my taste so i got y’all next update fr. (on my subby/switch paige shit so.. yeah)

series masterlist

The air inside the Gampel Pavilion buzzed with anticipation. Less than thirty minutes remained before the Huskies tipped off against Notre Dame, and the team was deep into warm-ups. The rhythmic thud of basketballs echoed through the court as sneakers squeaked against polished hardwood. Paige moved through the motions, though her mind was far from the game.

She stole a glance at Clover, who was stretching just a few feet away. Clover wasn't looking at her—of course she wasn't—but Paige found her gaze lingering for a moment too long. She wasn't jealous, not at all. What was there to be jealous about? Clover could do whatever—or whoever—she wanted. Paige certainly didn't care. Her jaw tightened as she shook the thought away, forcing her focus back to her shooting drills.

‘It wasn't jealousy,’ Paige told herself for what felt like the hundredth time since last night. It's annoyance. Irritation. Frustration. The memory of Clover's smug grin from the night before burned in her mind, unshakable. Paige had spent the night tossing and turning, her thoughts spinning with images she refused to acknowledge. Clover and that waitress, the blanket slipping over bare shoulders, the tattoos curling over Clover's arms like whispers of secrets Paige didn't want to think about.

She dribbled the ball harder than necessary. It wasn't like she hadn't had someone in her bed just hours before the game. What bothered her was that Clover hadn't been there to see it. Not that it mattered. It didn't matter if Clover cared—or didn't.

Paige released a long breath, sinking her next shot with a little more effort than usual. The team's warm-ups were nearly over, the energy building as the crowd filled the arena. Just as she began to head toward the tunnel with the rest of the Huskies, a familiar figure caught her attention near the student section.

Clover was standing there, her back to the court, chatting with a group of girls. Their laughter rang out, light and teasing, as they leaned in closer to Clover's confident stance. Paige felt her teeth clench. Clover's charm was effortless, her natural charisma always drawing people in. The way the girls giggled at whatever she was saying only grated on Paige's nerves further, though she couldn't for the life of her understand why.

The team was already halfway to the tunnel when Paige called out, loud enough for the entire court to hear. "C'mon, Amar! You can chit-chat with your fans later!"

The laughter from the student section died down as Clover turned her head, her smile fading into an annoyed scowl. She rolled her eyes, muttering something to the girls before giving them a quick parting smile and jogging back toward the team.

As she passed Paige, Clover didn't even glance her way. Paige's irritation only deepened, her jaw tightening as Clover breezed past, all casual confidence and deliberate indifference.

Once she reached Nika and Jana, Clover grumbled something in Arabic under her breath, her tone dripping with frustration. "I swear to god, she's lucky I don't like to make a scene in front of everyone."

Jana chuckled softly, clearly catching the gist of it, while Nika looked puzzled, though she didn't get the chance to ask for translations before the team was ushered into the tunnel for their entrance.

Jogging out onto the court, Paige fell into the familiar rhythm of the pre-game show. She slapped hands with fans lining the sideline, her game face firmly in place, though her mind still wandered back to Clover. She sat on the bench as the starting lineup was called, her focus sharpening despite the lingering tension from earlier. It was Paige, Nika, Azzi, Aaliyah and lastly Clover as the starting five.

Clover was the last player introduced, wearing her number seven jersey like a badge of honor. She waved confidently to the roaring crowd, her makeup perfectly subtle and the bright lights illuminating the ink on her subtly toned arms. Paige felt her gaze drawn to Clover again, even as she tried to convince herself otherwise. Clover Amar was truly magnetic, and everyone in the pavilion seemed to agree.

Clover made her way back to the bench, high-fiving and dapping up her teammates as she went. When she reached Paige, the usual cocky smirk was gone, replaced by a more subdued expression. Paige hesitated for a split second before returning the gesture. In that moment, the rivalry that consumed them off the court melted away, replaced by a shared determination to win.

But as they settled into the game, Paige couldn't shake the flicker of jealousy that lingered, buried deep beneath her competitive exterior.

And Clover? She could feel Paige's gaze, even if the blonde refused to admit it. A small, private smirk tugged at her lips as she refocused on the court. She always came out on top, after all.

The moment the buzzer echoed through the arena, Clover was in motion, laser-focused on the ball soaring through the air. She leapt, snagging it with ease before sprinting down the court. Her movements were fluid, practiced, and confident. A quick step to the left, a light jump, and she laid the ball into the basket, securing the first two points for UConn within the first ten seconds of the game.

Jogging back, she allowed herself a small grin, slapping hands with Azzi as they regrouped on defense. The crowd roared, the game already electric with intensity.

Six minutes in, the energy hadn't let up. UConn was clinging to a one-point lead, and every possession felt critical. Clover was open in the corner, her position perfect. She waved her arms at Paige, who was caught in the middle of Notre Dame's suffocating defense.

"Paige!" Clover shouted, her voice cutting through the noise. She was wide open, but Paige didn't even glance her way.

Instead, the blonde pivoted, determined to take the shot herself despite the two defenders closing in on her. Paige jumped, aiming for a mid-range shot, but Notre Dame's forward was quicker. The ball was swatted out of the air, stolen in an instant. The break was fast, the Notre Dame player sprinting down the court and sinking a clean three-pointer before UConn could react.

Clover froze for a moment, her frustration boiling to the surface. She wanted to throw her arms up, shout at Paige, demand to know what she was thinking. But she knew better than to cause a scene mid-game. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to jog back down the court, her hands clenched into fists.

By the time the buzzer signaled the end of the first quarter, UConn had fallen behind by three points. The team trudged toward the bench, sweat gleaming on their faces. Paige was visibly fuming, her jaw tight and her eyes narrowed. Nothing about her game was clicking tonight. She wasn't moving the way she usually did, wasn't landing her shots with her typical ease.

Clover, on the other hand, was trying to calm her own annoyance. She plopped down on the bench, grabbing her water bottle and downing it in a few gulps. Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths as she fought to shake off the frustration of being ignored on the court. She wouldn't let Paige's stubbornness ruin her focus.

Geno's voice boomed as the team gathered around, his sharp eyes scanning the group. He jabbed his marker against the whiteboard, drawing out a new play with quick, decisive strokes.

"Paige," he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument, "if you don't start passing that goddamn ball to Clover, you're running suicides after this game. Got it?"

The huddle was silent, the players exchanging wary glances. Clover bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, but a small, amused grin still tugged at her lips. She didn't even try to hide it, leaning back slightly as she sipped from her water bottle.

Paige noticed immediately. Her blue eyes darted to Clover's face, catching the smirk before the brunette could wipe it away. Clover didn't say a word, but the message in her expression was clear: ‘Serves you right’

Paige rolled her eyes, but the faint pink rising in her cheeks betrayed her irritation. She looked away quickly, focusing on the whiteboard and ignoring the way her chest tightened every time she caught that smug grin from the corner of her eye.

The team clapped their hands in unison, signaling the end of the huddle as they prepared to head back out for the second quarter. Clover didn't say anything to Paige, didn't need to. She just jogged onto the court, her smirk still lingering as she lined up for the second quarter.

Paige had told herself she'd get it together. Play fair. Stick to the plan. She'd even taken a deep breath before stepping back onto the court, but her resolve shattered within moments.

Her gaze wandered, drawn to the roar of the student section. The fans were on their feet, waving signs and shouting chants, but one particular poster stopped her dead in her tracks.

‘Clover is our lucky charm!’ it read in bold letters, the name replaced with a carefully drawn four-leaf clover and a dark blue ‘#7’

Of course, it's her. The girl Clover had been hooking up with.

Paige gritted her teeth, wondering how none of them had noticed her—or that sign—until now. The sight made her stomach twist, though she couldn't quite pinpoint why.

Aubrey was the first to notice, nudging Clover sharply with her elbow. "Look, Clo. It's your girlfriend," she teased, her grin wicked as she nodded toward the shorter blonde in the stands.

Clover turned her attention to the sign, her jaw tightening as a shiver ran down her spine. She wasn't exactly thrilled about the grand gesture. It was sweet, sure, but also unexpected and, frankly, off-putting. Her memory of the girl—whose name she seemed to forget every other hour—didn't include this level of commitment.

"Shut up," Clover muttered under her breath. "I don't do girlfriends." But even as she dismissed the idea, she shot the girl her trademark charming smile, hoping to keep things light.

The waitress beamed back, completely oblivious to Clover's internal cringe.

Paige caught the exchange and, to her surprise, felt a faint flicker of relief at Clover's clarification. But the flirtatious smile Clover had thrown at the blonde? That sent a different kind of twist through her gut, undoing any momentary comfort.

When the game resumed, Paige's frustration bubbled dangerously close to the surface. She wanted to play better, to prove she wasn't shaken by something as stupid as a sign. But her irritation spilled over into her play, and it didn't take long for Clover to notice.

Whenever Paige had the ball, she either forced shots or passed it off to anyone except Clover. And every missed opportunity gnawed at Clover's patience.

Paige attempted another contested jumper, and once again, the ball didn't even come close to sinking. Notre Dame snatched the rebound, and Clover's restraint snapped. As she jogged back, she passed Paige with a glare sharp enough to cut.

"If you're gonna hog the fucking ball," Clover hissed venomously, "at least make sure it goes in."

Paige barely had time to process the sting of Clover's words before the ball was back in play. Notre Dame's Hannah Hidalgo received the inbound pass, but Clover was already one step ahead. She lunged, intercepting the ball with a burst of speed that sent the crowd into a frenzy.

Dribbling down the court, Clover moved like she was on fire, weaving past the slower defenders. She paused just outside the three-point line, her instincts sharp and her movements confident. The ball left her hands in a perfect arc, and the net barely moved as it swished through.

The scoreboard lit up, and the gap between the teams narrowed, but Clover didn't stop to celebrate. She jogged back down the court, her focus entirely on the next play. She wouldn't waste time with tacky antics like Hidalgo, who seemed to cheer herself on after every shot.

Paige, however, lingered a second too long, watching Clover with a mix of frustration and something uncomfortably close to admiration. She clenched her fists, her chest tightening as she forced herself to refocus. This wasn't about Clover—or whatever storm of emotions that sign had kicked up. This was about the game.

‘Get it together, Paige,’ she thought bitterly. But as her eyes drifted back to Clover, the determination she tried to muster kept slipping through her fingers.

The second quarter had been a disaster. Missed shots. Airballs. Awful foul calls. Notre Dame was practically being handed free throws, and the sheer frequency of it felt almost rigged. Every whistle sent another surge of frustration through the team, but none more so than Clover.

When the buzzer sounded for halftime, Clover's glare shot up to the scoreboard: 34-45. Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. She didn't care about the sting; the anger bubbling inside her made it impossible to focus on anything else. She wanted to scream, maybe even throw something, but instead, she swallowed the rage, holding it in her chest like a ticking bomb. She hated losing—more than anything.

The locker room was no refuge. As soon as the team entered, Clover dropped onto a bench, gripping her water bottle so tightly it looked like she might crush it. She didn't bother speaking, her body language screaming for everyone to keep their distance. The team, well aware of her temper, complied.

Clover Amar's temper was no secret. She'd heard it countless times: ‘You've got to rein it in,’ they'd say. ‘Control yourself.’ But right now? She didn't want to.

Geno's booming voice tore through the room like a thunderstorm. His words were relentless, ricocheting off the walls and into every player's ears. CD stood beside him, arms crossed and nodding in firm agreement.

"You're playing like a bunch of amateurs," Geno growled, his tone like gravel. "Is this how you want to be remembered? By playing like imbeciles?"

No one dared to respond, their silence only fueling his fury. He stalked across the room, barking instructions, correcting plays, and assigning positions for the next half.

"And you," he snapped suddenly, his eyes locking on Paige.

Paige straightened reflexively, her shoulders stiff as Geno marched closer.

"What do you think you're doing out there?" His tone was sharp enough to cut glass.

"I—" Paige started, but no words followed.

"Exactly. You're not thinking," Geno barked, his face hard with disappointment. "You're sitting out the first half of the third quarter. And if you don't start passing that ball when you're back on, you'll be benched for the rest of the game. Got it?"

Paige's cheeks flushed red, a mix of embarrassment and simmering anger coursing through her. She forced herself to nod, biting her tongue against the retort burning on her lips.

Her gaze flicked to Clover, who hadn't even spared her a glance. Instead, the fiery brunette sat with her head bowed, steam practically rising off her skin. Paige's jaw tightened, heat building behind her eyes as she sat in silent fury, as if Clover's frustration was somehow her fault.

Geno stormed out not long after, leaving the team to recover and regroup. The air was thick with tension, every breath heavy. As they trickled back toward the tunnel with a couple of minutes left before the third quarter, Clover hung back. She had other plans.

She grabbed Paige's arm without warning, her grip firm and unrelenting as she dragged the blonde a few feet away from prying eyes and ears. Paige's body stiffened immediately, her posture defensive, but she didn't pull away.

Clover spun her around, her expression livid. "I don't know what the fuck your issue is, but I swear to god, if you don't leave that shit off the court—"

Paige yanked her arm free, cutting Clover off. "Then what? What are you gonna do?" Her voice was sharp, defiant, but her breathing quickened.

Clover's jaw tightened, her teeth grinding together so hard it hurt. Before she could think, her hands shot up, gripping the collar of Paige's jersey with an intensity that made the blonde freeze.

"Stop fucking playing with me, Bueckers," Clover hissed, her voice low and venomous. Her fingers curled tighter into the fabric. "Before I smack that attitude out of you." She leaned closer, their faces just inches apart, her fiery gaze locking with Paige's. "If you're the reason this team loses to our biggest rivals, do you think you'll be able to look any of them in the eye again?"

Paige stared back, her usual sharpness dulled by the proximity, the heat of Clover's words, the anger radiating off her in waves. She hated it—the way her brain scrambled, the way her chest tightened, the way Clover's touch sent an unexpected rush through her.

"No," Paige muttered, her voice quiet and uncertain. She sounded more like a scolded child than a college athlete.

Clover's gaze swept over her, taking in the flushed cheeks and tense posture. With a slight scoff, she released her grip, letting Paige's jersey fall back into place.

"Good." Clover's voice was firm, unwavering. She tapped Paige's cheek twice, condescending but not without purpose. "Now, when you get back on that goddamn court, I better not see you play like an idiot again."

And with that, Clover turned on her heel, leaving Paige standing there, stunned and silent.

The frustration in Paige's chest was still there, but now it mingled with something else. The tall blonde was undeniably turned on.

The second half of the game began with Paige seated on the bench, a towel draped around her shoulders. She watched the court intently, arms crossed, biceps flexing, though the tension in her posture betrayed her frustration. Geno had decided to actually go through with benching her, at least for the time being, to reassess how the game would unfold without her. Paige wasn't thrilled, but she trusted Geno's instincts, even if they stung her pride.

Her gaze flickered toward Clover, who was already moving fluidly up and down the court. Paige could tell immediately—something had changed. Clover played like a spark had been lit inside her, ignited during halftime. The hesitation from the first half was gone; Paige wasn't there to hold her back anymore, she was unafraid to go for deep three-pointers whenever the opportunity presented itself. Her confidence radiated, and for once, Paige wasn't actively critiquing her every move in her head.

Clover wasn't just good—she was unstoppable. Notre Dame's defense couldn't seem to keep up with her. Even Paige, reluctant to admit when someone else stole the spotlight, felt the flicker of a grudging pride watching her teammate dominate. She always knew that Clover could carry the team in ways Paige hated to applaud, even if it was in her head.

Six minutes into the third quarter, UConn trailed by only two points, the score 49-51. The Huskies had clawed their way back, thanks in large part to Clover's determination. It was almost poetic, Paige thought, how much better Clover performed without her there to get in the way.

Then it happened.

Clover moved with precision, intercepting another pass meant for Hannah Hidalgo and knocking the ball cleanly out of her possession. Paige's focus sharpened as she watched Clover pivot and send the ball sailing toward Aaliyah, who sprinted for an easy layup. The crowd roared, and Paige allowed herself a small, satisfied nod. But the celebration was short-lived.

Hannah caught the rebound as it fell into her hands and charged back down the court. Clover was already on her, sticking close, her defense tight. Paige knew how competitive Hidalgo was, knew she hated being shown up. And Clover, so naturally irritating just by existing, had clearly pushed her over the edge.

The words were quiet, barely audible beneath the buzz of the crowd and the squeak of sneakers on hardwood, but Clover heard them as clearly as the girl spitting them.

"Fucking dyke."

Hannah's voice dripped with venom, her expression smug as she threw a shoulder into Clover's path, causing her to lose balance, stumble and trip backwards. Clover hit the court, her palms slapping against the floor to catch herself.

Paige's stomach dropped, a small flame immediately igniting to life inside her chest. Clover pushed herself up quickly, but her face was a storm of fury. She stalked toward Hannah, her movements tense, her fists clenched at her sides.

"The fuck did you just say to me?" Clover spat, her voice sharp enough to cut through the noise in the arena. Her eyes blazed, her entire body practically vibrating with rage.

Before Clover could get any closer, Aaliyah and Nika were there, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her back, their words a quiet blur of attempts to calm her down. Hannah just stood there, unfazed, watching Clover's reaction with a smug smirk.

The whistle blew, and to Paige's disgust, the refs didn't call a foul on Hannah. Instead, a technical foul was issued against Clover for the altercation.

Paige was on her feet before she realized it, her towel falling from her shoulders as Geno called a timeout. The team gathered on the sidelines, and Geno immediately pulled Clover out of the game. She sat on the bench, still seething, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to calm down. Paige stood nearby, watching her with a mix of frustration and concern.

"Can you control your goddamn temper for once, Amar?" Paige snapped, her voice low and cutting as she looked down at the girl, shaking her head. She wasn't sure why she said it—it was instinct, the same dynamic they always had. But the words felt wrong the moment they left her mouth.

Clover's head shot up, her eyes burning with a fury that nearly matched what she'd shown on the court. "This isn't about temper," she hissed through gritted teeth. "That vertically challenged leprechaun just called me a fucking dyke."

Paige froze. Her world seemed to tilt for a moment as the weight of Clover's words hit her.

"Come again?" she said, her voice sharp but quieter now. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, nails digging into her palms as she processed what had just been said. The rage she'd felt earlier was nothing compared to what surged inside her now. Any irritation she'd felt toward Clover, any lingering frustrations from the past few weeks, vanished instantly.

No one had the right to speak to Clover like that. No one.

Her jaw tightened, and she turned her head slightly, glaring toward the Notre Dame bench where Hannah now sat. Paige's blood boiled. She wasn't used to feeling protective, not like this—not in a way that consumed her so completely. But the idea of someone hurting Clover, of targeting her so cruelly, was enough to make her see red.

For the first time in days, Paige didn't care about winning, losing, or whatever petty feud she and Clover had going on. The only thing she cared about now was making sure Hannah Hidalgo regretted ever stepping foot on the court.

As Geno barked instructions to the team, preparing to send Paige back in, she locked eyes with Clover. Her voice was steady but low, almost a promise.

"I'll handle her."

Clover raised a brow at her, surprised by the shift in Paige's tone. There was no teasing smirk, no playful jab. Just a quiet, unyielding determination. Paige turned away, stepping onto the court with a newfound purpose.

If she had to play 'dirty' to make her point, then so be it. No one messed with her team—not on Paige's watch.

The whistle blew, signaling the resumption of the game. Paige strode onto the court, her focus sharper than it had been all night. The noise of the crowd faded into the background as her gaze locked onto Hannah Hidalgo. The Notre Dame guard might have been fast and agile, but Paige had years of experience on her.

Every move Paige made was calculated, fueled by the fire burning in her chest. Her defense became suffocating, her presence impossible to ignore. Every time Hannah touched the ball, Paige was there, her hands in the way, forcing turnovers, drawing offensive fouls, and making Hidalgo visibly uncomfortable.

The crowd erupted as Paige stole the ball from Hannah and passed it to Azzi, who sank a clean jumper. Paige didn't celebrate—her eyes were glued to Hannah, whose smugness was beginning to waver.

"Not bad for a dyke, huh?" Paige muttered under her breath as they jogged back down the court.

But Hannah wasn't one to back down. She shoved Paige slightly as they crossed paths, earning her a warning glance from the refs. Paige smirked, her satisfaction growing. She didn't need to escalate things further—not yet.

Clover sat on the bench, her leg bouncing with restless energy. She hated not being on the court, hated feeling sidelined. But as she watched Paige systematically dismantle their game, something inside her shifted.

Paige was relentless. There was no pettiness, no grandstanding—just a raw, focused determination. It was a side of Paige Clover had rarely seen, one that made it impossible to look away. One that made her unconsciously press her thighs together.

For the first time in a while, Clover felt something other than irritation toward the blonde. Maybe it was gratitude, or maybe it was something deeper, something Clover wasn't ready to name. Either way, the sight of Paige defending her honor—however indirectly—sent a warmth through her chest and core, she hadn't expected.

By the time the fourth quarter began, UConn had pulled ahead, leading 65-60. Geno subbed Clover back in, and the energy on the court shifted once again.

Clover and Paige fell into an unspoken rhythm, their usual animosity replaced by a surprising cohesion. Paige started passing the ball to Clover without hesitation, setting her up for open shots and helping her navigate Notre Dame's aggressive defense.

It wasn't perfect—they still bickered during timeouts, their competitive streaks clashing over strategy. But on the court, they were unstoppable. Clover's sharpshooting combined with Paige's vision and defensive tenacity turned the game on its head.

With less than a minute on the clock, UConn led by three points. Notre Dame had possession, and Hannah had the ball. Paige didn't hesitate, closing in on her with suffocating pressure.

Hannah tried to fake left, but Paige anticipated the move, her hand darting out to tip the ball away. Clover was there in an instant, scooping up the loose ball and sprinting down the court. She didn't stop, weaving through defenders before leaping for a layup that sealed the game.

The buzzer sounded, and the arena erupted. UConn had won, 78-73.

Clover and Paige didn't immediately celebrate together—they weren't there yet. But as the team gathered at center court, Paige caught Clover's eye. There was no teasing smirk, no sharp comment—just a small nod of acknowledgment.

Clover returned it, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles.

In the locker room, the team celebrated their hard-fought victory, their earlier frustrations replaced by relief and camaraderie. Geno offered his usual gruff praise, and the players began to unwind.

Clover was at her locker, peeling off her jersey, when Paige approached.

"You played well," Paige said, her voice quieter than usual.

Clover looked up, surprised. Paige rarely gave compliments, and even when she did, they were usually laced with sarcasm. But this felt genuine.

"So did you," Clover replied, her tone softer than usual. She hesitated, then added, "Uhm... thanks. For earlier."

Paige shrugged, but her cheeks flushed slightly. "Nobody talks to you like that, except me." she said simply.

Clover scoffed with a faint smile. "How sweet. Guess there's hope for you yet, Bueckers."

Paige rolled her eyes, but there was no bite behind it. "Don't get used to it."

As she walked away, Clover couldn't help but watch her go, a small, curious smile playing on her lips.

Something had shifted between them. It wasn't forgiveness, and it certainly wasn't friendship—not yet. But it was something they supposed.

#⇢ ˗ˏˋ vamptizm writes ࿐ྂ #mission jealousy #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 6 months ago

Note

Reader is a part of the Avenger’s PR team and going to a gala to schmooze with political powerhouses. Bucky is her date. She can feel his eyes on her the entire time, and she constantly has to remind him that if he destroys her underwear at all, whatsoever, he will be paying for it in every sense of the word, especially when they get home.

Behave » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x PR!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has a hard time behaving during a gala.

Warnings: implied Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, Bucky’s dog tags, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Bucky leaned against the table with a drink in his hand and watched as you talked to an CEO of one of the popular political powerhouses in New York. He watched as you did your best to try to schmooze him and his colleagues next him.

As you were talking, you felt a familiar pair of eyes on you. You took a glance past the person you were talking to and seen Bucky staring at you. He licked his lips and bit his bottom lip when you made eye contact with him. Then you went back to talking to the man and his colleagues.

Bucky drank the rest of his drink before making his way to you. He stood next to you and shamelessly put his arm around your waist and his hand on your hip.

“I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” You apologized. “This is my date Sergeant James Barnes.” You introduced him. “He’s an Avenger and the best friend of Captain America.” You tell them.

Bucky shook hands with the CEO and gave him a smile.

“I hope you don’t mind me stealing my date away for a moment.” Bucky says.

The CEO and his colleagues nodded before you and Bucky walked away. Bucky led you to an empty hallway and pinned you against the wall, kissing you hungrily. You moaned against his lips before putting your hands on his chest and pushing him away.

“What did I say before leaving the compound?” You asked.

“You told me to behave.” He answers, kissing softly along your neck.

Bucky’s fingers on his right hand traced the seams of your panties through your dress while his vibranium hand gave your ass a squeeze.

“Bucky…” You warned. “What’re you doing?” You asked.

“I’m not doing anything.” Bucky answers innocently.

The only time Bucky’s voice sounds innocent is when he’s up to something. Right now is one of those times.

“Don’t even think about it, Sarge.” You say.

“Don’t think about what? I’m just loving up on my date.” He simply said.

“Nope.” You pushed him away more. “The only thing running through your head besides sex is destroying my panties.” You say.

Bucky just chuckled when you said that and continued to trace the outline of your panties through your dress. It’s like he wasn’t listening to a word you just said.

“Bucky…” You warned again.

“Hmm?” Bucky hums against your neck.

“Behave.” You say.

“I don’t remember how to behave, doll face.” His voice sounding husky and seductive. “Especially when you’re wearing a backless dress.” He says.

“I swear if you think about destroying my panties…” You warned once more.

“What’re you gonna do, babydoll?” He asks with a smirk.

“Punish you.” You say, giving his dog tags a tug.

“Sounds hot.” He says.

Bucky’s right hand disappeared underneath your dress and traced the seams of your lace panties one last time before obeying you.

“Fine…” He kisses your lips. “I’ll behave… for now.” He says followed by a wink.

You playfully rolled your eyes at the Super Soldier before making your back to the main room of the gala. A small squeak left your lips when Bucky smacked your ass before entering the room. You turned around to look at him to see a mischievous smirk on his face.

“I had to get it out of my system.” Bucky says.

“Yea, sure you did.” You say.

“I promise to try my best to behave until we get back to the compound.” He promises with the same mischievous look on his face.

“You better.” You say more in a warning voice.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

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imaginespazzi · 5 months ago

Text

Part 8: The Toxic In Intoxication

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

Your mouth is poison (your mouth is wine)

(In which an all over the place writer, writes something that's a little bit all over the place)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy,

Words: 9.0K

TW: Swearing, a little bit of violence, mentions of blood, men being men

A/N: Hi lovelies :) Unfortunately, as I've been warning y'all for a while, the deadline did finally slip through my fingers. However I'm hoping y'all will forgive me for it because I am only one day late and this chapter is quite long. I do wanna warn y'all in advance that there won't be a chapter next week because I am going on vacation and my laptop is staying very, very far away from me. There's a lot going on in this chapter and I'm not sure how I feel about the whole thing but I'm hoping y'all will enjoy it anyways. I did actually edit this time but who knows how successful that was, so please let me know about typos/mistakes. As always, feel free to tell me about what you liked, what you disliked and anything you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your weeks my loves <3

August 2025

Azzi Fudd is a spectacular liar. She excels at keeping up a façade of yes everything is perfectly fine in front of her friends and family. She’s quite good at tricking people she can barely stand into thinking oh yes i’m totally enjoying this conversation. But the person Azzi lies the most to, is without a doubt herself. As she steps out of the car into the hot Indiana air, bustling with noises from the growing crowd inside, Azzi internally repeats a lie to herself again: she did not show up to all-star weekend for a glimpse of her ex girlfriend. She’s here, as per Colleen’s managerial advice, to build connections, to further her career and to expand on opportunities in the basketball world. The fact that Paige Bueckers, who Azzi hasn’t seen in three months -the longest period of time they’d spent apart since she’d started at UConn- is definitely also going to be attending tonight’s party, is merely a happenstance.

Taking a deep breath, Azzi puts one kitten heeled foot in front of the other, trying to ignore her heightened nerves. This isn’t her preferred scene by any means. She’d much rather be back in her hotel room, curled on her couch with a book and a pint of ice cream. It’s not that Azzi doesn’t like parties; she has her fair share of fun at Ted’s, but it’s the unfamiliarity of the environment and the lack of that once ever present comforting hand that used to tap out i’m here for you against the back of her own at big events like these, that has her yearning to crawl back into the car and hide away.

“Azzi?” a familiar voice calls from behind her and Azzi lets out a sigh of relief as she sees Aaliyah walking towards her with a large welcoming grin, “Azeray!”

“Li-Li. Thank god you’re here,” Azzi reaches up to hug her former teammate, mentally thanking whatever god was looking out for her. She’d dreaded walking in by herself and now she wouldn’t have to. Really she probably should probably send Coach a ‘thank you’ text for having so many alumni in the league that there was bound to be a Husky she could attach herself to for the night.

“I’m glad to see you too Az,” Aaliyah says, pulling away and looking at Azzi with a semi-concerned look, “but you seem a little extra relieved to see me? You good dude?”

“Just- just a little nervous,” Azzi admits, shuffling her feet uneasily.

Realization dawns on Aaliyah’s face, “cause of Paige?”

“No you know I don’t like big unfamiliar places,” Azzi sighs when Aaliayh gives her a pointed look, “but I guess maybe- maybe a little cause of Paige.”

The Mystics forward shakes her head before linking her arms through Azzi’s, “I swear, I leave y’all for one year and everything implodes-," she bites her tongue, "shit was that insensitive?”

“No,” Azzi grimaces, “that’s pretty much exactly what happened.”

Something hard coils in her stomach at Aaliyah’s words. The truth is they’d been fine. Better than fine even. And then suddenly Azzi was lighting a box of matches she hadn’t even known she was holding and her whole world was on fire; an implosion of everything Azzi had once thought inflammable. She’d burned her hands trying to rescue them and all she has to show for it are invisible red hot pustules that refuse to heal. But perhaps, she thinks, that’s what a pyromaniac like her had deserved.

Azzi cowers under the flashing lights of the cameras, clinging tighter to Aaliyah’s arm as the two of them make their way onto the orange carpet, the cameramen immediately swinging their devices to capture the college basketball player more than likely to be the number one pick in next year’s WNBA draft. She feels herself tense under their piercing gaze, anchored only by Aaliyah's strong and steady presence next to her. And as they pose for the cameras, she’s thankful for her former teammate’s company but she can’t shake the feeling that it should have been someone else.

“And look who we have here,” Lexie Brown says excitedly as the two of them approach the interviewer, “y’all Huskies clean up nice.”

“We try, we try,” Aaliyah answers charismatically, doing a little hair flip to match her tone.

“Aaliyah, it's your first all-star nod, how are you feeling?”

“I feel great, you know it’s always good to see yourself being acknowledged and being an all-star has always been a goal of mine. So, I hope it’s the first of many and I’m just hoping my team gets the W tomorrow,” Aaliyah answers diplomatically.

Lexie turns to Azzi, “I bet you’re really proud of her. I mean you’ve got a couple of teammates who are first-time all stars between Aaliyah and Paige. You’ve gotta be feeling pretty proud of them”

“Y-yeah I mean,” Azzi clears her throat, trying not to flinch at the mention of Paige’s name, “It’s been- it’s been really exciting to watch them and I’m extremely proud-”

She’s cut off by the sound of excited chatter filling up the air and Azzi doesn’t have to turn around to know who’s just entered the premises. Not when she has a whole separate sensory system that flares up just for her. Azzi’s skin prickles as she registers the sound of familiar peals of laughter echoing from the orange carpet. She digs her nails into the palm of her hand, forcing herself not to turn around.

“Speak of the devil,” Lexie says goodnaturedly, getting her hand ready to beckon the blonde over and Azzi feels panic suffocate her lungs, not quite ready to face Paige yet.

“Oh I don’t think-” Aaliyah tries to cut in, glancing worriedly at her friend but it’s too late.

“Paige,” Lexie calls out, beaming over Azzi’s head at the Dallas Wings’ newest star point guard.

The world seems to move in slow motion as Azzi feels Paige getting closer and closer to her. She smells the faint scent of fresh mint weaved with a hint of citrus first. Then she hears the sound of Paige’s breathing, perfectly even to anybody else but Azzi can hear the staggered harshness hidden beneath it. And as the blonde passes over her to settle on Lexi’s other side, she feels Paige’s arm brush against her own and it hurts to breathe. The contact lasts for a second but Azzi swears it’ll last forever, tattooing itself on her bicep as a wretched reminder of a touch she’s no longer allowed to crave.

It’s funny, there’s a hurricane swirling between them and Paige can barely look at Azzi, keeping her eyes firmly on Lexie and Aaliyah as she greets the trio. And yet, there’s a sense of calm -of peace- that seems to wash over Azzi just by having Paige near her again. The older woman seems to possess some sort of magical power that weaves itself into Azzi’s nervous system, soothing away her frazzled nerves with an unspoken promise of and if you give me the chance i’ll make it all okay.

Despite the hectic transition from a full college season to a frantic W season, Paige looks ethereal as always. Her two piece cropped vest top and straight fitted pants match the color of her eyes and a silver chain dangles across her chest. Two strands of blonde hair hide her signature diamond studs, the rest of it pulled back into a slightly messy bun. Azzi gulps at the way the vest top parts right above her midriff, Paige’s toned abs playing peek-a-boo behind it. She lets her eyes roam over Paige’s exposed arms, trying to ignore memories of how they used to go taut under her touch, down to the blonde’s bare fingers and she feels her heart constrict. No rings. It feels wrong. But then again, nothing has felt right for three months.

“Azzi,” Aaliyah hisses and Azzi snaps out of her thoughts, realizing she’d been asked a question.

“Sorry,” she laughs nervously, moving a strand of her hair out of her face; Paige’s eyes intently following the movement, “what was the question.”

Lexie smiles, “I was just asking about your thoughts on Paige’s amazing rookie year so far?”

“Oh um-” Azzi hesitates, shivers inching up her spine as she feels Paige drinking in the sight of the her body like she's a woman parched, “I’m just-” their eyes lock with each other’s and everything else seems to vanish until it feels like it’s just the two of them floating in between remnants of what they used to be, “I’m just really proud of her. I always knew she’d be amazing. She’s just doing what she always does. Being the best player she can be. So yeah I’m just- I’m just really proud of her.”

And Azzi doesn’t know how they got to this point where Paige seems almost shocked that Azzi could be proud of her, to this point where there’s droplets threatening to spill over both of their water lines and they no longer have the right to wipe each other’s tears away.

“Aww,” Lexie coos, oblivious to the tension, “well on that sweet note, off y’all go and we’ll see y’all later.”

The walk into the party is kept alive with Aaliyah’s attempt at keeping a conversation going. While Paige tries to at least entertain some of, Azzi finds herself completely zoning out until they finally make their way inside into the cacophony of music and laughter.

“Y’all wanna get-” Aaliyah begins.

“I see Jewell and Téa,” Paige cuts her off immediately, her legs already moving in a rush, “I’ll see y’all later.”

She gives Aaliyah a tentative grin but barely looks at Azzi as she practically trips over her pant-sleeves trying to get away. It feels like something’s biting against her skin, sharp teeth indenting you did this to yourself as Azzi watches Paige walk away. She watches as the tension slowly leaves the blonde’s muscles as she’s pulled into a hug by Jewell and then by Téa. The fake smile that she’d politely kept on her face the last couple of minutes for the sake of the cameras and reporters is replaced by something far more genuine. Azzi watches as Paige is absorbed into the warmth of the growing crowd, embraced by a league that adores her, and she feels the ice cold pinch of she belongs somewhere without you now start to freeze her own heart.

***

Azzi’s doing fine. She’s gotten through the night with Aaliyah by her side, making small talk with a bunch of different players and she’s managed to keep a friendly smile the whole time. She’d even danced for a little bit, letting loose with some of the other college basketball players that had made the trip to Indianapolis. Sure, she’d occasionally been distracted by her eyes flickering over to the bar and finding a new pretty influencer batting their fake eyelashes at Paige but really she’s doing fine. Her head’s a little dizzy and maybe the third shot of tequila, influenced by a one leggy brunette that had gotten a little too handsy, wasn’t her brightest decision of the night but really, Azzi’s doing fine.

Until she’s not.

And it’s Paige's fault. She had to know that it would be Azzi’s last straw. She had to know that Azzi could live with watching a thousand girls flirt with Paige as long as the blonde in question stood rigidly by the bar doing nothing but smiling politely at them. She had to know that Azzi, after having spent most of their college life watching girls fawn over her girlfriend, could deal with the flirty hands that lingered just a little too long on Paige’s bicep. But it’s when Paige leans into this one girl -whose dark curls and tanned caramel skin are just a little too reminiscent of her own- when Paige’s lips graze just a little to close this one girl’s ear, that Azzi realizes she’s decidedly not fine.

“I need some air,” she manages to bite out, ignoring Aaliyah’s concerned look as she marches out the back door, heading towards the deck.

Azzi buries her face in her hands as she leans back against the brick wall. She knows she’s being unfair; knows she has absolutely no right to feel this way but something burns within her anyways and the light breeze does nothing to cool it down.

“I’m not cheating on you,” a harsh voice interrupts her pity party and Azzi sucks in a sharp breath, “We’re not together and I can flirt or kiss or fuck-” she flinches, “anyone if I want to.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Paige’s voice is laced with accusation, “because the way you just stormed out says otherwise.”

Azzi continues to keep her head in her palms, refusing to look at the blonde, “it’s hot and stuffy in there. I just needed some fresh air.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of lying,” Paige spits out.

“Well what do you want me to say instead?” Azzi finally looks up, her even cadence in stark contrast to Paige’s fiery tone, “I know we’re not together-”

“Because that’s what you wanted-”

“I know,” Azzi yells, and then quieter, “I know. I know I- I know I did this. But that- that doesn’t make it any easier to see you with someone else,” she swallows, “doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”

Paige scoffs, rubbing her face as she begins to pace, “you miss me? I was at Mohegan when y’all had summer camp. The whole team showed up to the game except for you and you want me to believe that you miss me?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me there,” Azzi confesses in a whisper, “you were so mad at me after-after everything- and I just- I didn’t want to ruin coming back to Connecticut for you.”

“For me,” Paige lets out a laugh devoid of any emotion, “god Azzi there you go again with this fake ‘selfless’ bullshit.”

A thousand and one retorts die on the tip of Azzi’s tongue as she shakes her head and pushes herself off the wall. She can smell the alcohol on Paige, can tell the blonde is itching for an argument but all she feels is pure exhaustion.

“I don’t wanna fight Paige. I’m tired and I just-” she bites her lip, fighting the urge to caress Paige’s cheek, “believe it or don’t but- I really do miss you.”

Sparks of electricity dance their way through Azzi’s veins when Paige curls a hand around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks from going inside. And suddenly she doesn’t feel so cold anymore.

“Dance with me,” Paige whispers.

“What?”

Paige shrugs, tugging on Azzi’s hand to pull her closer, “you said you don’t wanna fight and I- I don’t want you to go,” the confession hangs between them as Paige’s hands fall to Azzi’s waist, “so- let’s just- let’s pretend.”

“What are we pretending?” Azzi asks quietly and despite the warnings ringing in her head, she wraps her arms around Paige’s neck. It feels like coming home.

“We’re pretending that we’re okay,” Paige says softly, holding Azzi’s hips as she begins to sway them gently, “we’re pretending that three months ago you said yes.”

“Paige-”

“Close your eyes Azzi,” the blond waves her hand gently across Azzi’s face, willing both of their eyelids to flutter shut, “we’re pretending that we’re not here- we’re in Minnesota or DC or I don’t know just- anywhere. And our families are here, laughing and talking and some sappy romantic song is playing. It's the best day of our lives and we’re both- we're both dressed in white-”

“Paige,” Azzi lets out a sob, as she begins to understand the picture Paige is painting for them; a picture drawn on a canvas that Azzi had torn up before any color could touch it

“Sshhhh just- let me have this okay,” Paige’s voice trembles as she leans her forehead against Azzi’s, “if I can’t have it for real, please just let me pretend.”

If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Azzi would fight Paige’s tightening grip. If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Paige would let go. Instead Azzi lets Paige play pretend, lets them keep their bodies pressed against each other, moving from side to side in rhythm with the wind.

It isn’t until she hears footsteps approaching them that Azzi hurriedly moves away first and she can see the betrayal of if only you’d just let me hold you in front of the world written all over Paige’s face. They’re both quick to swap their tears for smiles that don’t reach their eyes as they turn to face the intruders. And Azzi wonders if Paige wishes she’d drank a little bit more too. Because maybe if they were both just a little more drunk, then tomorrow they wouldn’t have to remember just how right it had felt to play pretend tonight.

April 2033

“You look so pretty Mama,” Stephie gushes from where she’s perched on the bed as she watches Azzi put the finishing touches to her makeup

“Thanks baby,” Azzi smiles, blowing a kiss in the mirror.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie flips the running facetime call, skipping over to her mother with the phone in her hand, “doesn’t Mama look beautiful?”

Sixteen years later, and maybe it’s because of all the time they’d missed in between, but Azzi can’t help the bout of shyness that flushes across her features when Stephie places the phone, Paige’s face illuminated all over it, against the mirror so the blonde can get a proper look at Azzi’s outfit.

“You look-” Paige clears her throat, eyes dilated as they rake over Azzi’s whole body, “you look phenomenal.”

“Big word Bueckers,” Azzi teases, trying to disguise her blush, “did you just learn it?”

Paige rolls her eyes, “can’t even give you a compliment without an insult Fudd.”

“You guys argue too much,” Stephie says exasperatedly, shaking her head at the two adults who laugh. The younger girl sometimes seems far wise beyond her age.

“We’re not arguing Stephie, we’re just-” Azzi struggles to think of a word.

“Foreplaying,” Paige mutters under her breath and Azzi immediately glares at her.

“Paige!”

Stephie scrunches up her nose at the screen, “what does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Azzi says shrilly, “Miss Buecks is just making up words.”

“Why would Miss Buecks do that?” Stephie asks, looking back and forth between her mother and the screen.

“Why does Miss Buecks do anything,” Azzi babbles, as she begins to usher Stephie out of her room, “go grab your things Stephie-bean. Mama’s almost ready to drop you off at Nana and Pop’s house.”

Stephie pouts, “I wanna go to the party with you and Miss Buecks. It’s no fair you both get to go and I don’t,” she picks up the phone, looking at Paige with wide guilt-tripping eyes, “don’t you love me Miss Buecks?”

Azzi has to hand it to her daughter. She’s a smart one to choose Paige as the victim of her emotional blackmail, knowing her wiles had long stopped working on her mother.

“You know I’d take you with me if I could Stephie,” Paige says, “but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow I swear.”

Stephie smiles and Azzi shakes her head at how quickly the five-year old’s plan had worked, “you’ll take me to the park and then we’ll get fries and then get ice cream?”

“That’s a lot of junk food Steph-”

“Ssshh Mama,” Stephie chides, “this is between me and Miss Buecks.”

“The park, then fries, then ice cream it is,” Paige concedes and Azzi rolls her eyes.

Stephie grins brightly, puckering her lips to kiss Paige through the phone and eliciting a laugh from the older woman when she cheers, “you’re the best-est-est Miss Buecks. See you in a little bit. Don’t hang up without saying goodnight.”

“I promise I won’t,” Paige calls out after the little girl as Stepehie hands the phone back to Azzi and starts skipping towards her room.

Azzi gives the blonde a look, “we have got to have a conversation about you learning to say no to her.”

Paige shrugs unhelpfully, “I don’t want to learn how to say no to her.”

“You’re a lost cause,” Azzi remarks, hands on hips, “and foreplay? Seriously? Us bickering is not foreplay.”

“Well it could be if you’d just let me fuck you after,” Paige grumbles and Azzi’s mouth falls open at the bluntness of it.

“You say the most romantic things to me Paige Bueckers.”

They’re both quiet for a second as Azzi moves around her room, collecting her wallet and keys and to put into her purse.

“You know there’s still time for me to come pick you up,” Paige says finally.

“Paige,” Azzi sighs, not wanting a rerun of the same argument they’ve been having for the last week. She knows it’s a touchy subject for Paige; that it veers a little too close to insecurities that stem from their past but she’s not quite ready to take this step yet. There isn’t quite any rhyme or reason to her logic except well, she’s haunted by memories of the last time they’d let the personal mix with the professional. Her phone still holds invitations to countless team reunions that she’d actively avoided and a group chat that she’s long muted. Azzi hasn’t stepped foot in the state of Connecticut since she’d entered the draft; she refuses to lose California too.

“Teammates can carpool,” Paige explains vehemently, “it’s easily explainable.’

“I know-”

“Is this about Clémence?” bitterness tinges the edge of Paige’s voice as she chews her bottom lip. And there it is, the other subject they’d been tip-toeing around since it had been brought up at breakfast a week ago. Paige and Azzi are both excellent at avoiding talking about the harder topics but they’ve never quite managed to let anything go forever.

“Why would this be about Clémence?”

Paige narrows her eyes, sitting up from where she’d previously been lounging against her pillow, “maybe you don’t want her to see us together? Maybe you’re trying to spare her feelings I don’t know.”

“Paige-”

“You know what it’s fine,” Paige huffs, “I’ll see you at the bar Azzi.”

She hangs up before Azzi can say anything and the brunette lets out a litany of curses under her breath, annoyed with Paige’s ability to go from A to Z by skipping everything in between. There’s a part of her that knows Paige deserves an explanation about Clémence, a chance to have her lingering doubts confirmed or denied, but amidst the egoistic thoughts of well she married someone else and the self preservationist urge to prevent a potential fight, she hadn’t been brave enough to approach the topic just quite yet. Azzi’s about to step out of the room, when her phone pings with a facetime call from Paige again.

“Are you calling to apologize for hanging up?” Azzi asks with a frown.

“No,” Paige replies stubbornly, “I called because I hung up without saying goodnight to Stephie and just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I’m gonna miss saying goodnight to her.”

Something wonderful and warm blooms in Azzi’s chest as she silently walks over to Stephie’s room. This is a new chapter in Paige’s storybook that she’s slowly beginning to read; one scribbled with the blonde’s devotion to Azzi’s baby girl. Azzi still has every other chapter memorized; had thought nothing could be more beautiful than the words within the one that had been dedicated to her. But she’d been wrong. Because every day that she watches Paige and Stephie fall more and more in love with each other, she finds herself falling in love with how much they love each other.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, practically snatching the phone from her mother’s hand as she goofily grins at the screen, “you didn’t hang up.”

“I promised I wouldn’t,” Paige says, the hardness that had existed in her voice while talking to Azzi, dissolving into adulation, “you be good for Nana and Pops okay?”

“I’m always good,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, “can you come over really, really, early tomorrow?”

Paige laughs, “I’ll be there as soon as I wake up.”

“Good,” Stephie claps contentedly as she grabs Azzi’s hand to start walking towards the car, “good night Miss Buecks.”

“Good night Stephie-bean,” Paige echoes, blowing a kiss through the screen.

“Paige,” Azzi says urgently, trying to stop the older woman from hanging up, “can you just hold on a second while I buckle Stephie in.”

“Az-”

“Please.”

“Fine,” Paige says, averting Azzi’s gaze as she sulks.

Azzi lifts Stephie onto the car seat, fastening her seatbelt and pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek, before she closes the car door and uses it as a stabilizing structure to lean on as she pulls her phone back in front of her.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Hi,” Paige says back begrudgingly, “you wanted to say something?”

“I-” Azzi swallows, “don’t go the bar-”

“Oh fantastic,” Paige cuts her off, her voice furious as she glares daggers at Azzi through the phone, “not only do you not want to go to the bar together, you don’t want me to go at all. Fine. Okay. Whatever. I won’t go. You have the time of your life with fucking Clementine or whatever-”

“Yet,” Azzi says loudly, trying to speak over Paige’s angry rant, “don’t go to the bar yet.”

“What?”

Azzi licks her lips, “don’t go yet. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents-”

“What does that have to-”

“Will you just let me fucking finish?” Azzi almost bangs her fist on the car in frustration and she’s glad to see that it makes Paige look just a little bit sheepish, “as I was saying. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents and uh- your house- it’s um- it’s on the way to the bar so I thought,” she shrugs with fake nonchalance, the edge of her mouth turning upwards, “I thought maybe- maybe I could pick you up on the way.”

Paige stares blankly at the screen, eyes blinking as Azzi’s words slowly register, “you- you wanna go to the bar together?”

“I didn’t say that,” Azzi teases, eyes twinkling as she basks in the thrill of eliciting that Azzi smile from Paige’s lips, “teammates carpool right?”

“Teammates definitely carpool.”

April 2029

“You invited Clémence to our movie night?” Jana asks in a whisper, as she walks into the kitchen where Azzi’s making popcorn. Her Saturday nights have gotten rather boring since she’s had Stephie, consisting of alternating between movie nights with Jana and dinner with her parents. It wasn’t the most thrilling of times but she looked forward to them all week, excited to not have to spend a night in solitude.

“She asked what I was doing tonight and I told her we were having a movie night and then she asked if she could join and well I couldn’t just say no,” Azzi explains, sticking the bag into the microwave.

Jana cocks an eyebrow, “do you want me to leave?”

“Why would I want you to leave?” Azzi asks, crinkling her nose as she juts out an ear just in case the baby monitor goes off.

“C’mon Az,” Jana says pointedly, leaning on her elbows against the kitchen counter, “you’re telling me there’s nothing going on between the two of you?”

Azzi grimaces uneasily, not quite wanting to answer the question, “nothing that would require you to leave.”

“If that’s the way you want to play it,” Jana relents, grabbing a soda from the fridge on her way back to the living room, before she pauses in the doorway to look back at Azzi, “but I know what it looks like when somebody’s in love with you. And that girl out there,” she nods her head towards where Clémence is daintily sitting on the couch, “she’s definitely getting there.”

Jana’s a rather observant person but Azzi knows that she’s at least a little bit wrong this time. Because Clémence might be a little bit in love with -even if that’s not a fact Azzi particularly wants to acknowledge- but it's impossible for her to look at Azzi the way Jana remembers someone else looking at her. That had been something completely different; a gaze that saw all the little chinks in her armor, all the imperfections carved against her walls and loved her inspite of them, maybe even because of them. Clémence might love her, but Azzi doesn’t think anyone can be in love with her the way the person she’d been hopelessly in love with, had.

When she walks back into the living room with the popcorn in hand, still plagued by her younger teammate’s words, Azzi’s deliberate to sit on the couch next to Jana instead of the open space next to the francophone. The flash of hurt in Clémence’s eye causes guilt to trickle down her spine but Azzi thinks a flash is better than the tsunami of pain she could cause if she doesn’t start to ease herself out of this right now. There’s a selfish part of her that doesn’t want to, that’s going to miss having somebody who hangs onto her every word. Azzi likes this feeling of being wanted, even if it’s not by the person she wants. But that person isn’t hers to want anymore and she won’t torture Clémence by barricading her in the same jail that has held Azzi’s soul captive for the last four years.

They’re about half way through the movie, awkward tension eased by Jana’s incessant chatter, when Azzi’s phone buzzes. Already confused at the timing of the call, she’s even more perplexed to see Ice’s name flashing on the screen.

“Oooh Iceyyy,” Jana’s eyes light up when she catches a glimpse of the CallerID, “put her on speaker. Ice is one of our UConn teammates,” she explains, turning to Clémence who nods in recognition, “she probably did something dumb as fuck and need Azzi’s advice.”

“Don’t be mean,” Azzi scolds with a grin, knowing that Jana’s probably right as she picks up the call, “hello-”

“I hate you,” Azzi freezes at the sound of the familiar voice, laced with unfamiliar malice. Next to her Jana stiffens immediately while Clémence observes the scene in front of her with a guarded frown.

“Paige who the fuck are you calling?” Ice’s voice is muffled in the background, “oh shit, Paige give me back my phone.”

“No. She needs to hear this,” Paige grits out, her pitch wavering with the effects of alcohol, “she needs to hear how much I fucking hate her. Azzi do you hear me? I can hear you breathing. I know you’re there. Did you hear what I said?”

“Paige,” Ice hisses again.

Azzi swallows the lump in her throat, fingers digging into her bare thighs as she grips her phone so hard, she half-expects it to break into pieces in a reflection of her heart, “I heard you Paige.”

“Good. Because I do. I really fucking hate you,” Paige repeats again and Azzi flinches, “you ruined me Azzi. And now you’re ruining my marriage. My wife is perfect. She loves me. She loves being seen with me. She loves being known as my wife. Everything I ever wanted from you, she’s willing to give me. But she saw that damn hug at the Olympics and she- she’s upset with me. She thinks- she thinks I’m not over you.”

“Az maybe you should-” Jana says softly but Azzi immediately raises a hand to stop her. Maybe she’s a masochist but she can hear the hurt laced underneath the anger in Paige's voice. And if what Paige needs to get rid of her pain is a target to aim all her arrows at, then Azzi’s willing to sacrifice her heart, or at least what little is still left of it.

“And the worst thing about it,” Paige’s voice breaks, “is that she's probably right. I have the perfect fucking woman at home and I can’t seem to get over the one who broke my heart and never looked back. Isn’t that pathetic?”

“Paige,” Ice pleads again and Azzi can hear her former teammate trying her best to wrangle the phone out of Paige’s firm grasp.

“I’m not done yet Ice. I need to talk to her and I need to talk to her now because if I don’t, I’ll never get the courage to say any of this again,” Paige is sobbing now, and her broken whimpers pierce Azzi’s heart deeper than any words could, “why couldn’t you just have said yes Az? I know- I know your reasons but why- why couldn’t you have just loved me enough to look past them? How do you do it Azzi? How do you live without me because it’s been four years and I- I still don’t think I know how to live without you and I hate you, I hate you because you do.”

No, Azzi thinks, I really don’t. But she doesn’t say anything, rapidly blinking back tears as she avoids both Jana’s concerned look and Clémence’s more thoughtful gaze.

“I wish I could just feel nothing towards you Azzi,” Paige confesses, heaving as she struggles to breathe through her tears, “I don’t want to hate you. I don’t want to miss you and I really- I really, really don’t want to love you. Please just make it stop. I’m so tired of this Azzi. I’m so tired of hurting. How do I make it go away? Please tell me how I make it go away? How did you make it go away?”

“I didn’t,” Azzi whispers, so soft she’s not sure Paige heard it; she’s not sure if she wants Paige to have heard it. It’s the kind of pain, she thinks, she’s destined to feel forever. It’s weaved itself into every crevice of body and now it exists as just another innate part of her. Paige thinks Azzi’s learned to live without her but really all Azzi’s learned is how to live with these permanent scars of i think i’ll miss you forever.

“That’s enough Paige,” Ice’s voice is clearer now, having finally snatched the phone out of her teammate’s grip, “Azzi-” she begins apologetically, “she’s just drunk. She didn’t mean-”

“She did,” Azzi clears her throat, sinking into the way Jana's arms wrap around her, “she’s um- she’s gonna be really hungover in the morning. Make sure she- make sure you give her water but don’t- don’t give her coffee. She’ll want it but it’ll only make it worse because she uh- she- when she drinks too much, her stomach hurts and the caffeine- it just- it makes it worse so- don’t let her drink coffee tomorrow morning okay? And make sure- make sure she eats something before she takes painkillers. And Ice?’

“Yeah Azzi.”

“If she doesn’t remember any of this tomorrow morning, please don’t remind her.”

***

April 2033

The bar is buzzing with noise by the time Paige and Azzi finally arrive. It’s an exclusive enough place that they won’t be too bothered by fans asking for pictures and autographs but the size of the crowd still puts Azzi a little bit on edge. She can’t help the small smile that flitters across her face when she feels Paige’s hand resting on her lower back as the blonde guides the two of them through the crowd in search of their teammates. For the last eight years, Azzi has been her own protector and she’s learned to guard herself but it’s nice -it feels right- to have someone else ready to be her shield too.

“You know Bueckers,” Joyce says as the two of them finally approach the table that had been reserved for the Valkyries, “some might say that one should be on time when meeting their new teammates. Just a thought.”

“And some might say Edwards that being fashionably late is being on time,” Paige quips back.

Joyce grins, “alright time for introductions.”

“I’m pretty sure I know-”

“Shut up,” Joyce reprimands, throwing an arm around Paige’s shoulders, “let me introduce these brand new people to you.”

“They’re not-”

“Sssshhh. Let me have my fun. We’ll start over here with Westbeld and Booker. You might know them, their teams kicked your ass during the 23-24 season,” Joyce says with a smirk.

“Oh I do remember that,” Paige says thoughtfully, eyes twinkling with mirth, “what happened the season after?”

“Don’t be cocky Bueckers. It’s unbecoming,” Madison chides as she rises from the table to give Paige a hug.

“Yeah I try not to remember that Elite Eight game thanks,” Laila says, making a disgusted face.

Joyce glares at her, “did I introduce you yet Miss Phelia?”

Laila raises her hands in surrender as Joyce continues to give Paige a tour of the Valkyrie team. Azzi had known that Paige would fit in well with her teammate -really the blonde had the uncanny ability to fit in anywhere- but seeing it realized in front of her, it seems even clearer. Paige feels like the last mosaic piece, slotting in right where she belongs.

“Those two over there are our babies,” Joyce points to Haylen and Jayla, “they’re like five years old but we love them anyways.”

“I’m almost 25,” Haylen protests.

“See,” Joyce remarks, “literally children. And that one,” she points to Jana who beams at Paige, “well you already know her even if you sometimes wish you didn’t probably-”

“Hey!”

“Oh shush Jana,” Joyce says airily, “and I supposed there’s no point in introducing Azzi to you since y’all came together,” she pauses to look between them, “y’all don’t live that close to each other. Why didn’t you just carpool with Jana? I’m pretty sure she lives closer to you.”

Paige opens and closes her mouth a couple of times as Azzi feels her own cheeks heat up at the innocent enough question, “we um- well it's just- you see- my house is on the way from her parents and she had to drop off Stephie so it just- it just made sense you know? For efficiency’s sake.”

“Oh yeah for efficiency’s sake. They’re both very efficient,” Jana smirks, “makes a lot of sense.”

Joyce gives all three of them a weird look, “y’all Huskies are strange. It was just a question but anyways,” she grins as she finally steers Paige towards the blonde in the corner and Azzi stiffens at the way Paige’s body immediately tenses, “a couple of our teammates aren’t here but we do have a former teammate. Paige meet Clémence.”

“We’ve met,” Paige says, attempting to school her features to resemble anything but the discomfort she’s feeling within, “during the Olympics that is. We’ve beat France a couple of times.”

It’s a purposeful word choice, beat instead of played and Azzi's fingers fidget with the hem of her top as she tries to avoid looking at either of the two women.

“Yes. It is good to see you again,” Clémence says tersely, her French accent stronger than the last time Azzi had spoken to her. She shakes Paige’s hand rather formally before her eyes focus on Azzi and she determinedly walks towards the brunette, “and it is really good to see you Azzi. I have missed you.”

“I-” Azzi stutters at the French woman pulls her into a hug; over her shoulder she can practically see steam coming out of Paige’s ears as she hyper focuses on how Clémence makes it a point rub her thumb down Azzi’s back, “it’s um- it’s good to see you too.”

She pulls away and she can feel the disappointment reverberating from Clémence’s body as Azzi practically flings herself on the chair next to Jana, wondering what she’d done to deserve this moment as a punishment for her sins.

“Save me,” she pleads as Clémence and Paige sit as far away from each other as possible, occasionally shooting glares when they think the other isn’t looking.

“Save you from having two hot women fighting over you?” the center teases, “you truly have such first world problems Azzi Fudd.”

“They’re not fighting over me-”

“Azzi you will have your usual rum and coke no?” Clémence asks and Azzi looks over to where the francophone is intently staring at her, “I will go-”

“Oh there’s no need,” Paige says immediately, “you sit Clémence. You already have a drink. I was gonna go get one for myself and I’ll get Azzi’s too. Besides, Azzi's more of a fruity drink girl. Az I’ll get you a piña colada-”

Clémence narrows her eyes, “maybe she liked that when she was in college but Azzi likes something different now.”

“She might like something different now,” Paige counters, standing up aggressively so she towers over the table, “but she’s always gonna love a piña colada right Azzi?”

All eyes turn to look at Azzi who wants nothing more than to cower under the table- or hit Jana who seems to find this very unamusinging situation rather entertaining, “I um-” she swallows, “I think tonight calls for something stronger. Round of shots for the table? On me?”

It placates the situation for a while as the rest of the team cheers on the idea, beckoning over one of the bartenders to orders a round of tequila shots for the table. For a moment, Azzi tricks herself into thinking maybe that’ll be the end of ridiculous situations for the night as the team downs shots to Jana yelling “to the Valkyries” but she should have known it was wishful thinking.

Half the team ends up on the dance floor, swaying to the mixed rhythm of the music and the newly minted alcohol coursing through their bloodstreams. Azzi watches with a smile as despite her protests, Joyce manages to drag Paige onto the dance floor with her, engaging her in some eccentric dance moves as they try to outdo each other on who can look the silliest. And as the rest of the girls cheer the blonde on, it feels like Paige is chiseling out a place for herself in another part of Azzi’s world.

“She is easy to love,” Clémence’s hot breath fans Azzi’s ear as the francophone takes Jana’s empty seat next to the brunette.

“Clém-” Azzi sighs.

“She fits in well with the team,” Clémence continues, something wistful in her voice, “I have seen her play. She will fit in well on the court with you guys as well. She will fit in well next to you.”

“That’s the hope,” Azzi says softly as she tilts her head to look at the other woman, “you fit in well too. I mean it Clém. We’ll miss you at GSV.”

Clémence smiles bitterly, “I would have liked to stay but they needed the cap space so they could sign her. She- she’s quite expensive. I mean considering she is casually wearing swarovski crystals on her neck in a bar on a random Saturday night, I am not surprised.”

The two of them laugh despite the gravity that looms heavily over them. Azzi and Clémence haven’t been anything in a long time but she’d never quite shut the possibility of a potential future done. She can hear the lock ready to click now. It’s bittersweet doing the right thing but as Paige glances over from the dancefloor, eyes darting cautiously between the two of them, Azzi knows that she doesn’t want to keep any other doors open. Not when the one with Paige’s name etched on the door handle, leads to home.

“One last dance?” Clémence asks softly, holding out her hand.

Azzi hesitates, knowing that it would irritate Paige but she thinks she probably owes Clémence this and so she smiles and takes the francophone’s outstretched hand as they join their other teammates. It’s nothing beyond friendly and they both keep their hands to themselves as they sway to the music, but Azzi can feel the annoyance radiating off of Paige from across the dancefloor. She would never admit it, perhaps it’s a little toxic of her, but there’s a certain thrill to making Paige jealous. There’s something about the way the blonde’s blue eyes flare with ice cold envy, the way her jaw hardens as she grinds her teeth. The way she looks at Azzi like if she had her way she’d drag the brunette out of the bar and mark her with a possessive you’re mine you’re mine youre mine. It makes Azzi clench her thighs together as she tries to focus on Clémence.

“I understand now,” the francophone says thoughtfully as Azzi’s peers up at her in confusion, “when you told me that you could not be with me. I get it.”

“I don’t-”

“You are here with me but you aren’t actually. You will always be with her,” Clémence tilts her head towards Paige, “you always have been. I understand now,” she says again simply before her face hardens, “even after all those words she said to you on the phone that night.”

Azzi’s stomach curls at the reminder. She knows exactly what night Clémence is referring to. Sometimes when she closes her eyes, it’s those words, coated in anger and malice, that shower around her like acid rain, seeping into her skin and infecting her bloodstream.

“I told you, you deserved better,” Clémence says and Azzi gulps, “but you said- you said you deserved worse. I hope you don’t believe that anymore Azzi. Just because you hurt her doesn’t mean you need to let her hurt you too.”

“I-” Azzi’s cut off by a hard body ramming into her own and she feels herself going stumbling back into the unwanted arms of a random man, “I’m sorry,” she says tersely, struggling to get out his grip.

“No worries pretty girl,” he says toothily, the heavy stench of alcohol in his breath making Azzi feel nauseous, “but now that you’re here, how about I buy you a drink.”

“No thank you,” Azzi says sternly, trying to push the man away but he’s relentless.

“Aw c’mon don’t be like that sweetheart,” the term of endearment sounds like an insult falling from his lips and Azzi loses her patience, stomping her heel into the man’s foot to finally free herself from his grip and he yelps in surprise.

“I said no thank you.”

“What the fuck,” the man spits out, standing up as Azzi takes a step back. He’s got some muscle and although, despite his bravado, she knows she’s strong enough to take him, she’d rather not create a scene. Her plan is to walk away. Paige seems to have other ideas, suddenly materializing in between Azzi and the man, a furious look on her face as she squares him up.

“Do we have a problem?” the blonde asks menacingly.

“Nothing other than your little friend here being a fucking bitch.”

Paige’s eyes darken as she takes a threatening step towards him, prevented from going further only by the way Azzi immediately laces a hand around her wrist, “what the fuck did you call her?”

“I called her a-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azzi cuts in, stepping in between a glaring Paige and a man who’s clearly underestimating her strength, “let it go Paige.”

“Yeah,” the man mocks, “let it go Paige.”

“You fucking-” Paige tries to lunge at him but Azzi’s quick to shove her back gently.

“Don’t cause a scene,” she warns.

“Azzi-”

“Paige please.”

“Holy shit,” the man wolf-whistles, “y’all play for the Valks. You’re Azzi Fudd. I know you.”

“Good for you,” Azzi spits out at him before turning her attention back to Paige, who looks like she could kill the man if given the chance, “c’mon let's go back to our tab-”

“It’s funny you’re acting like such a fucking prude when you have a bastard chi-”

An unmistakable crunch rings out through the bar as the man goes flying backwards. Azzi’s knuckles are bleeding as her breath comes out in ragged huffs. She hadn’t wanted to cause a scene; could have walked away from a man being a drunken idiot, could have walked away from being called a bitch or hell, even something worse. But the man had attacked the one part of her that she’d always be ready to go to war for. He’d brought up Stephie and she’d seen red. Her fist had moved of it's own accord.

Paige doesn’t say anything and Azzi can feel the anger still vibrating from the older woman’s body as she roughly grabs Azzi’s unhurt hand.

“Let’s go,” the blonde’s voice is eerily low, “we’re going home.”

***

It’s a subconscious choice to let Paige drive Azzi’s car even though they’ve both sobered up considerably, not that one shot had done much in the first place. It’s a subconscious choice that Azzi reaches over to lace her fingers through Paige’s free hand, resting it on her lap, as the blonde use her other hand to grip the steering wheel. It’s a subconscious choice that they end up driving to Azzi’s house in complete silence. She’s not sure who’s mad at who, if they’re even mad at each other or that man or just the world but she can feel the fury suffocating the air.

“Where’s your first-aid kit?” Paige says gruffly as Azzi unlocks the door.

“Bathroom,” Azzi says quietly and Paige is off towards it before the word has even fully left the brunette’s mouth. Azzi scrambles after her, pausing in the doorway as Paige rummages through drawers, knowing better than to interrupt to help when Paige looks livid like this.

“Sit,” Paige points to the sink once she’s finally found the sanitizer and gauze to clean up dried up blood staining Azzi’s knuckles.

“I can do it my-”

Paige glares at her, “just sit on the fucking sink Azzi.”

Putting away her own irritation at being told what to do, Azzi lifts herself onto the flat surface of the sink, opening her legs slightly so that Paige can stand between them. Despite still quivering with barely concealed rage, Paige’s touch is gentle as she dabs at the remnants of red liquid on Azzi’s hand.

“You should’ve just let me punch him when I wanted to,” she says finally.

“So you could be the one bleeding?” Azzi raises an eyebrow.

“No because he would’ve never gotten the courage to say shit about Stephie if you’d just let me kill him when he called you a bitch,” Paige bites out venomously.

“And let you go to jail? I couldn’t do that to Stephie,” Azzi tries to lighten the tension in the room, “she’d miss you too much.

“This isn’t funny, Azzi,” Paige seethes as she begins to wrap the white gauze around the wound.

“I know,” the younger woman says, trailing her other hand down Paige’s arms trying to soothe her anger, “but it’s fine-”

“It’s not fucking fine,” Paige yells.

“Baby-” the word slips out from Azzi’s lips before she can catch it. She hasn’t used it for someone other than Stephie in so long that it feels foreign on her lips and yet, it fits exactly right.

“Did you call Clémence that too?” and there it is, the real reason behind the volcano erupting as Paige decidedly looks away from Azzi.

Azzi narrows her eyes, “I don’t know Paige. Did you call Olivia that?”

“That’s different,” Paige grits out, “Olivia was my wife.”

Azzi flinches at the word; hates that somebody else had ever had the honor of being called that even if she knows it’s unfair of her to feel that way when she’s the one that had turned it down first.

“Exactly,” she says slowly, “you married someone else-” she holds up a hand when Paige protests, “I know. I know I said no but you married someone else Paige. So you don’t get to be mad at me for having something with someone else too.”

Paige is quiet for a moment and Azzi sees the exact moment the fight leaves her body as she lets out a sigh, leaning her head against Azzi’s shoulder.

“You’re right,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s neck, hands moving to rest against the brunette’s thighs.

Azzi runs her hand through Paige’s hair, brushing it in tandem with the harmony of her breathing, “we can’t keep throwing the past in each other’s face, Paige.”

“I know,” Paige breath tickles against Azzi’s skin and she shivers in spite of the tense moment,“I just-” the blonde lifts her head to look at Azzi, “I need to know who Clémence was to you. You- you know what Olivia was to me and I- I just need to know the same about Clémence.”

“She-” Azzi hesitates, “we hooked up a couple of times,” she squeezes Paige’s hand when the blonde flinches, “but then she- she wanted more but I couldn’t- I couldn’t do that. Partly because I didn’t- I didn’t feel the same- don’t look so smug,” Azzi chides when a small grin forms on Paige’s face, “and partly because we were on the same team. I didn’t want to complicate things, not like last time. Feel like I should probably have a rule not to date teammates.”

“Right.”

Azzi watches the cogs turning in Paige’s brain and she reaches out a hand to ease the creases forming on her forehead, “what are you thinking Bueckers?”

“I just-” Paige bites her lip, “what about me?”

“What about you?”

“I mean we’re gonna be- I mean we are- we’re on the same team too,” Paige says and Azzi can hear the insecurity of will you leave me again weaved through her voice.

“You don’t get it yet do you,” Azzi whispers, reaching up to cup Paige’s face, “baby you are the exception to all of my rules.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

365 notes · View notes

ervotica · 1 year ago

Text

treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen

warnings: SMUT (18+ only), p in v, overstim, cunnilingus, aftercare ofc, bradley is the hottest man ever xx

kinktober masterlist

You love it when it storms; the distant crackle of thunder on the horizon, the way the wind sweeps everything sideways until all you can hear is the pounding of droplets against the window panes.

You especially love that, oftentimes, it means Bradley gets to come home early.

He’s slipped straight into the bathroom on his journey into the house, past the living room and the kitchen and you. You hear the shower turn on and the whine of the old pipes that most definitely need replacing. You hear exactly when his bare skin hits the hot spray of water, almost picturing the steam rising and clouding up and around him.

You tiptoe to the en-suite as quietly as you can, each item of clothing slowly discarded the closer you get to what you want.

The bedroom comes into view and you see steam curling around the base of the bathroom door; it's ajar.

You can feel his eyes on you as it creaks open, his smirk as he takes in every inch of your naked skin - the curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts, the pudge of your tummy.

“Hi, baby,” he murmurs; his thick fingers grasp and squeeze at the fat of your hips before you've even fully stepped into the shower, and he tugs you close, pressing your chest to his.

“I missed you,” you purr, forehead nestled into the juncture of his neck “Glad you’re back early.”

He palms the globes of your ass, rocking the semi he’s already sporting against your naked pussy.

“I missed you more.”

You relax forwards into him and you can feel his smile imprinted into your shoulder, the thick mustache on his top lip scraping against your soft complexion.

You tuck your arms underneath his and hum, the rake of his fingernails up and down on your back enough to have your eyes fluttering closed.

His hands are slow on their descent, pausing and halting to toy with every part of your body he loves; his thumbs slide across the tiger-like stretch marks on your thighs before moving inwards. You shudder, brows knitting and tight where you still lazily rest on his shoulder.

Two fingers slip between your folds, the broadness paired with the rough callouses enough to have you leaning forward into his hold more than you already are. He’s happy enough to take your weight, hooking a forearm beneath your knee and caging you in against the glass wall of the shower.

“There she is,” he coos, teases really, a thick thumb coming up to draw tight circles on your little nub. He delights in the way a soft moan pushes past your lips despite your efforts to keep them concealed – you don’t want to inflate his ego too much, let him know this is all it takes to have you keen beneath him. It’s no use really; his confidence is enough to carry him without any sort of technique, it’s just luck that he has that too.

You tremble as his movements get hard and fast against your poor little cunt and he sinks to his knees. The tip of his nose nudges at your clit, and god, you swear nothing ever prepares you for how good he makes you feel every single time.

“You just relax, angel. Gonna take care of this pretty little pussy for you, okay?” His voice is husky and deep but smooth and sticky like honey. You could listen to him forever.

His tongue is on you before you even have time to breathe; first fast, flicking against your bud like slaps, quick in succession, and then slower as he flattens his tongue out and slurps, makes the most obscene noises as his mustache tickles against your clit. Your thighs shake against the sides of his head, your fingers raked through the wet hair stuck flat to his head, all the while he’s focused, soaking himself with the juices from your drooling hole.

You’re close by this point, chest ragging breaths, feet sliding against the wet shower floor as Bradley pins you up by your hips and doubles down.

That’s all it takes, really, though you’d never admit it. You gasp and that coil that’s been building snaps with such a force you see white.

You let out this long, keening whine, trembling in his forceful grip as your cunt tenses and spasms under his mouth.

“Baby, I’m done,” you gasp, “Please, fuck, that’s enough.”

He only grins from his place between your legs and slips two fingers into your still quivering hole.

“You’re gonna give me another one, sweet girl.”

You can feel yourself sweating despite the onslaught of water pounding on top of the pair of you.

You’re already drawing to your peak again, a heat growing in your cunt where Bradley is skilfully crooking his fingers against that spot that makes you see stars.

“Attagirl, give it to me,” he coos, before going back to slurping at your cunt like a man deranged.

You have no choice but to oblige him, and with a shriek, you cum on his tongue and fingers once more.

He releases you slowly, straightening and wrapping your thighs tight around him as the head of his cock nudges at your entrance. He pulls you down and around him with a groan, his head going straight to the juncture of your neck as he punches his cock up into you.

A scream falls from your kiss bitten lips and your nails tighten and dig into his shoulders; you’re so sensitive, you can feel every brush of his cock on your insides, every vein and ridge, every little movement.

“Two more,” he grunts, teeth scraping at your jaw. “Two more and you’re done, baby.”

He’s relentless in his pursuit of your next orgasm, pace fast as he thrusts up into you time and time again.

It’s not long before you’re on the precipice again, and Bradley feels the telltale sign of your pussy strangling him, pulling him further in, just as you squeak and cum around him. You soak him with it, your legs squeezing his torso tight as you burrow into his skin to try and escape this intense pleasure he’s pushing down onto you. You’re alight with it, every nerve ending on fire as you shake and moan.

He doesn’t stop; you’re far past your threshold and still he continues on, the squelching of your pussy enough to have him hardening even more, more than he ever thought possible.

He knows he’s not going to last much longer so he’s quick to press a thumb to your trembling clit, pushing in tight, fast circles as he pushes you from one orgasm and almost instantly into the next.

“Last one, baby. Give it t’me, okay? You can do it.”

Your clit kisses his pubic bone as he pushes all the way in and grinds against you, fervour lacing his every movement as he desperately forces you towards the edge again.

You’re dead weight at this point, head rolling against his shoulder as he hikes you up and around his waist and sets a furious pace.

“Jesus, sweetheart, I’m gonna cum, fuck!” He grits out, biting at the slope of your shoulder until you can’t hold on any longer and cum with a cry; your whole body tenses and snaps like a bowstring, and you’re clinging to Bradley to hold you up, sagging as he finally chokes out a gasp and fills you. You flood with warmth and he lowers the pair of you to the floor under the hot spray of water. You’re in his lap, eyes closed as you already begin to doze off with the skin on skin contact.

“C’mon, honey. Gotta get out before the water gets cold.”

He towel dries you and carries you, limp, to the bedroom; finds the baggiest t-shirt for you to snuggle up in and a pair of panties for your sore pussy. His sharp grin tells you everything you need to know before the words leave his mouth.

“I’ll come home early every day if I get to fuck you like that.”

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw oneshot #bradley bradshaw blurb #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #writer #writers on tumblr #writing #writing for fun #urvampgf’s kinktober 2023

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ihavethedreamies · 9 months ago

Text

Second Choice | San

Choi San - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~11.3k O_o

Pairing: San x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Actual Plot, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, One-Sided Love, Sharing a Bed, Comfort

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Precious, Sweetheart, Love, Pretty/Sweet Girl, etc.), Nightmares/Bad Dreams, Tears and Crying, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Kind of a Love Triangle, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation (Just a tad), Dacryphilia (Kind of), Creampie Kink (Not really Breeding so…), Marking/Hickeys/Scratches, Wall Sex, Window Sex, Mirror Sex, Big Dick! San, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill), Multiple Rounds

Author's Note: Holy Fuck, look at what I did 🫢. This is…long, as you can see. There is about equal parts fluff and angst and possibly even more smut. Had this brewing in my head for a few days after I went down a San rabbit hole. I went through a roller coaster ride of emotions writing this, so good luck reading it, my dudes.

Wooyoung is not in this, but he is mentioned and is somewhat of a love rival? Also Reader has a dog in this, so sorry if you don't like dogs or something…

PS. The middle pic of the banner is Mark and Renjun 🤪

I barely proofread this and none of my stories are Beta-ed so hopefully its not too messy...

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

Glancing at the clock, tick-tick-ticking away, you sighed. 2:38 am. It was much, much too early (or too late) to be awake, but you knew there was no way you could fall asleep. The first nightmare wasn't nearly as bad, so you were willing to go back to sleep, but when it happened again, you just couldn’t. So, you were sitting on the couch, some random rerun playing on the TV. You had to keep the volume low, not wanting to wake San up. He was sleeping with the door open so his cat could come and go. Byeol was sleeping in the armchair and you were jealous that he could do so in peace. San was staying in Wooyoung's room while he was gone, and since your sister had somewhere to be that weekend as well, you were home alone. It freaked you out to be alone in such a big place, never really having lived on your own. San offered to stay with you and you were a bit reluctant to agree but did so. It wasn't that you weren't close with San, you were, since Wooyoung was your roommate, it was just odd without Wooyoung there too. Turning around to glance behind the couch, your dog was snoring away in her bed, laying on her back, legs folded down over her chest. She was so sweet, but she was a husky and therefore made the bed way too hot for her to lay with you. Every so often you would have really bad nightmares and would normally slip in next to your older sister and be able to sleep in peace. However, she wasn't there, so you had to sit on the couch and watch the TV, at an hour where nothing good was on.

"Why are you up?" San's voice startled you, and you spun around again to look at where he was coming from behind you. Your dog's soft snores stopped, but she didn't even roll over from her spot, falling back to sleep easily.

"Nightmare." You shrugged, turning back around and he shuffled sleepily around the couch to sit next to you.

"Couldn't go back to sleep?" His eyes were almost closed and his hair was mussed up. He had worn a pair of thin black pants with a thin sweater to sleep. The collar was very low, and paired with his wide shoulders, you could see most of his toned chest. By that point, you were used to it, but that didn't mean you weren't tempted to ogle him.

"No. I…Uh, normally crawl into bed with (S/N), but…" You shrugged again, pulling your fluffy robe back up to cover your shoulder, only in a thin tank top underneath. Picking at a stray string on your own thin pajama pants, you felt antsy under his gaze.

"What about Cookie?”

"She's too warm…" You both sat in silence for a good minute or two and you tried to just watch the TV. It seemed he was thinking.

"Um, I'm going to use the bathroom…Do you…Do you want to sleep in my- Wooyoung's bed with me?"

"No! I…I mean…" You cleared your throat.

"I…That's fine, but would you mind…using my bed?" You could NOT sleep in Wooyoung's bed, especially with San. You were willing to try anything at that point, feeling exhausted, and you really needed sleep. Last time you tried to tailor a dress while tired, you poked your fingers at least seven times.

"Yeah, be right back." He flashed a sleepy smile, shuffling toward the bathroom, the sweater crooked, revealing part of his shoulder. Licking your lips, your mouth dry, nervous, you shut the TV off, but hesitated to get up. When he came back out, you finally forced yourself up and you led him toward your bedroom. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, your light strip around the room glowing a gentle deep pink.

"You need that off?" you asked him, pointing at the lights.

"No." He moved toward your bed, turning back to look at you, waiting. Swallowing hard, you undid the robe, acting like you were naked underneath. After it fell, you dashed to get under the covers, embarrassed about your thin top and your lack of bra. Gently, he got on the other side and you laid down stiffly, flinching when he pulled the blanket over himself, then higher up on you. Your face heated and since you had no makeup on, you were sure he could see you get red. Maybe not in the low light…

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" San's voice was very soft and you felt like crying. You weren't for sure if you were just that flustered or embarrassed, or what. Just replying with a nod, you turned on your side, not really able to look at his face, but his hand was already up between your two pillows. Your hand shook a bit, reaching for him, and he gave you a warm smile, linking his fingers with yours. He wasn't the biggest of the friend group, but he was still much bigger than you, his hand nearly swallowing yours completely.

"I'm right here, you can go to sleep." He whispered and you let your eyes close, hoping he couldn't see the tears hanging on your lashes. It was still taking you a while to actually fall asleep, laying there with your eyes closed for nearly half an hour. At that point, you were more distracted with his hand holding yours than the thought of having another nightmare. San was always so soft and gentle with you, despite his harsh appearance. He was sweet and was always careful to make sure you weren't too uncomfortable. You knew, deep down, he probably liked you, but you just ignored the idea. It was like some weird love mismatch going on. Your sister was in love with her friend-with-benefits, Wooyoung liked your sister, you liked Wooyoung, and San liked you. You knew Wooyoung liked your sister, but he had no chance in hell. Your sister was enamored with Younghoon, and the only reason they weren't an actual couple is because she was in denial, afraid of commitment, and didn't like feeling feelings.

Still being mostly awake, you had to make sure and hold completely still when you barely felt his fingers brush a stray strand or two of hair off your forehead. You heard and felt him shuffle just a bit closer, not having to go far in your full-sized bed. Holding as still as you could, you tensed further when he lightly pressed a kiss to your forehead. You bit the inside of your lip to keep it from quivering. Only relaxing when he settled, you didn't open your eyes till you could tell he was asleep from the way his breathing changed. Blearily, you looked over his face, so peaceful and pretty. Despite falling asleep, his hand was still just as secure in yours. You wondered what time it was, and as you did, sleep slowly overcame you as well.

When you woke up in the morning, your bed was empty next to you and could hear Cookie eagerly inhaling her food.

"Slow down, you'll end up throwing up." You heard San scolding her and when you rolled over to get out of bed, the clock read 11:47.

"Shit!" You sat up quickly, yanking your tank top and pajama pants off, slipping on a bra, white t-shirt, and a maxi dress over. Your hair was messy in its braid, but once you took it out, your hair fell in nice soft waves. Your feet softly thumped on the hardwood floor as you jogged down the hall.

"Sorry I slept so late!" You called to him, he was resting against the kitchen counter, watching the husky rapidly crunch on her food.

"It's okay!" He assured and you dashed past the kitchen, toward your studio to start working. It was good you worked from home.

"I think it was because I fell asleep so late!" The only reason he heard you was because he had followed after you, plopping down in your rolling chair as you started getting pins and thread out.

"When do you have to go practice?" San was a dance instructor and it was extremely convenient that his studio was just across and down the street a bit from your apartment complex.

"Three." He got up, turning the chair around so he could sit in it backwards, backrest to his chest. You huffed, tucking hair behind your ear again, but it fell in your view again. Grumbling, you grabbed your glasses off the table, putting them on to rest on the end of your nose to get the right angle to focus on where you were doing a difficult stitch. Gladly you could hear his steps on the wood floor; you were able to prevent a flinch when his fingers found your hair. Kneeling behind where you were to get the right height, you forced yourself to continue the stitch, just very slowly as he braided your hair for you. Not having a normal hair tie, he grabbed a stray rubber band from your kit to tie the end.

"Thanks." You murmured, pretending to be focused to hide your reaction. You hoped your head was bowed enough he couldn't see your red cheeks.

"What do you want for lunch?" You tried to maintain some kind of casual normalcy. He hummed and you could hear the chair roll an inch when he sat back down. Him watching you didn't faze you before, but his gaze felt like fire on your back.

"Pizza?"

"Sure, if you get my phone, you can reorder what we got last time." You waved toward your device on the desk next to you.

"Code?"

"Same as the front door."

He typed in the number and you heard it click open and he tapped away on it. Glancing over at him, your eyes focused on where his partially unbuttoned shirt was tucked into his pants. You had hemmed that pair of jeans so he didn't have to pin them tighter anymore.

"Use the 3033 card?"

"Yes."

"Twenty-three minutes." He told you, placing the order then went and sat back down.

"How much?"

"Like eighteen."

"Can you get me the thread in slot L-2?" you asked, motioning behind you toward your thread storage. He rolled over and you heard shuffling, keeping your hand out so he could rest the spool in it. Expecting him to just hand it to you, he had gotten out of the chair and sat on the floor next to you.

"What are you doing?"

"Buttons in this fabric tend to get loose easily or fall off, so I'm having to fasten them differently." You deftly and quickly started your task and he marveled at how fast you did it. Tying the thread off, you stuck the needle in the pincushion you had on your wrist, grabbing a longer one again.

"You're really good at this." San looked at the smooth stitches you had done, even though they were by hand, not machine.

"Practice." You let a small smile grace your lips.

"Do you always do everything by hand?"

"Depends on what I am doing most of the time, but some clients want it completely hand sewn." You pulled a pin out, dropping it back into the little box and continuing. You fell back into rhythm even with his intense gaze watching what you were doing. His fingers messed with a scrap of fabric laying on the floor, then he picked it up, weaving random pins through it, trying to mimic what you had done.

"Could you teach me to sew?"

"Probably. It's not hard. Getting to this point is though."

"Did you teach Wooyoung?" Your hands froze at the question, heart thudding harder.

"N-No. Well, I tried, but he kept poking himself." He laughed.

"Sounds about right- ow!" Your eyes flicked to him, sticking the end of his finger in his mouth, putting the pin-riddled fabric down on the desk.

"Like that." You giggled and he huffed bashfully. He kept watching, getting up quickly when the doorbell rang so he could get the pizza. Finishing your stitch, you took the pin cushion off and made sure there wasn’t anything sharp on the floor, you laid your glasses down as well.

"Hot, hot!" He breathed hard through his mouth, trying to cool off the bite as you walked out. He wasn't expecting the sauce to still be hot, but the pizza place was very close. It only took so long since it was busy for lunch. You let him talk to you while you both ate, and you only partially listened, not understanding most of it anyway; some video game you hadn't played and had no knowledge of.

"I think I'm going to head to the studio now." San had helped you clean up and sat on the edge of the entryway to get his shoes on.

"Bye, (Y/N)!" The door shut, leaving you staring at it. Sighing deeply, you went back to your work, trying not to let your thoughts loop out of control.

Your eyes flew open, chest heaving, sweat pooling at the small of your back. Breathing hard, you stared at the small star-like dots on your ceiling.

"Fucking-" You sat up, leaning forward and rubbing over your face with your hands. Huffing, you threw your comforter to the side and got you of bed. Stomping over to your dresser, you put on the pajama shirt that matched your pants over your tank. Grabbing your phone, you shuffled out to the living room, hesitating before dropping yourself and your device onto the couch. Looking toward the door to the other bedroom, it was slightly propped open for the cat. Your dog was noticeably absent, so you walked softly over to the door, peaking in. Cookie was laying at the foot of the bed on a spare blanket San most likely had laid out, Byeol loafing in the curve of the husky's body. The sight made you smile, and you glanced to where San was sleeping. Laid out like a starfish, the blanket hit him around the middle, and one of his feet was sticking out from under.

"(Y/N)?" His voice caught your attention when you started to step out of the doorway.

"Y-yeah?"

"Did you have another nightmare?"

"Yes." When he started to get out of bed, you tried to protest.

"Come on." He ignored your stumbling words, sliding past you in the doorway, his hand grabbing yours as he moved. He led you back to your room, getting into your bed without hesitation.

"San-" You got in as well, but stayed sitting up as he laid down.

"Just…sleep." He mumbled, hand grabbing the back of your shirt and pulling you down into his arms. Shuffling under you so he could get more comfortable, your head ended up resting on his shoulder, his other arm around your waist. He fell back asleep fast, his fingers that had been running over your hair stilling. Your heart was thudding hard, you could even hear it pulsing. How the hell were you supposed to fall asleep like that? You pondered that question, but at the same time, your eyes were growing heavy and sleep was washing over you. At first, you were only about half-asleep, somewhat aware still of his soft breathing. Right as you began to actually go to sleep, you felt a soft press on the corner of your mouth. This woke you up fully, but you managed to keep your eyes closed, body limp. Did he just kiss you? His fingers were back to running over your hair, "you have no idea, huh?" His voice was so quiet that even though your nose was near his throat, you barely heard it. San sighed, kissing your forehead, you could tell that time for sure. Finally, you couldn't fight sleep off, and fell asleep in his arms.

Once again, when you woke up in the morning, he was already out of bed. You couldn't hear anything else, and when you glanced at the clock it was a little past 9. Getting up with a stretch, you looked to the empty side of your bed. Giving in to your intrusive thoughts, you pulled the side of the comforter he had been using up to your nose and you sighed. Smelled like him, and you hated how good that made you feel. Dropping the blanket like it was hot, you scampered out of bed and made your way down the hall. Peaking around the archway that led into the main room of the apartment, you saw he wasn't in the kitchen and the bathroom door was open. Your dog barked happily and came to greet you and as you pet her, you noticed a note on the counter. He had gone out to do some things and let you know he would be back for supper. You weren't sure if you were disappointed or relieved at this. You only had two, maybe three, more nights before your sister returned. Wooyoung was supposed to not long after that. You were worried what you might let, or want to, happen the longer you were there with San, just the two of you. For some reason, you felt horrible about your rising affections with San, but you had no commitment to Wooyoung in anyway but your own feelings toward him. It would probably be better if you tried to move on, but there was a small part of you that hoped your sister would get with Younghoon, then Wooyoung could move on, and go to you. While you logically understood that would probably not happen, you still hoped.

Continuing with your day as normal, you finished the suit you had been working on and was able to move on to a dress that was commissioned. You enjoyed making whole ensembles more than making adjustments and other altering jobs. Going over the list, you saw you had nearly all of the materials and supplies already, but you would most likely need even more of the right color thread. You could wait a bit though, since you weren't sure when you would run out. As you were rechecking your list, your phone started to ring. Hitting the answer button and putting it on speaker, you put all the supplies on the desk.

"This is (Y/N)."

"Hello, Miss (Y/N). I'm a delivery driver for Blooming Days Flowers. I was just wanting to make sure you would be at home in the next fifteen minutes?"

"Oh, uh, yes." You had no idea who would have sent flowers.

"Great, thanks!" He hung up and you blinked back at the flashing 'call ended' on your phone. Trying to keep going with your job, it was hard, your thoughts wandering to who the heck sent flowers. When the bell rang, you quickly went to the door and the man on the other side smiled, holding a bouquet of flowers in a vase. There were two different purple flowers, some a golden yellow, and more smaller white filler-flowers.

"Oh, thank you!" You took the bouquet and the man had you stamp on his clipboard. He took his leave and you moved further into the apartment, door shutting behind you. Placing the vase on the counter, you plucked the little card from the top, reading the text on the front.

"Praying for a good night's sleep! Inspired by holistic sleeping-remedy flowers: Lavender, Passionflower, California Poppy and Valerian!" You read out loud, figuring out who it was from before you flipped the card around. You had to take a deep breath, fighting back tears once again.

Thought this might help? ~San

You took several measured, deep breaths. It didn’t work, a tear rolling down your cheek before you could stop it. Placing your hand down on the counter, you didn't have to get close to the bouquet to smell the fresh lavender. Not normally one for flowers, this was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you. You licked your lips, letting out a shuddering breath, you could taste the salt of your tears. You had thought he had a crush on you, something small, but this? It seemed like he lo-

"Fuck." Your jaw clenched, the card crinkling where your thumb pressed it too hard. Sniffing hard to prevent your nose from running, you let the card go, smoothing it out a bit. You aggressively sniffled, upset with your own mixed emotions and stomped back to your studio. Were trying but failing to continue working without getting tears and snot on the red fabric.

"(Y/N)! I got food!" You heard him easily even though you were back in your room, the door closed. For the last hour you had been sitting on the floor, back to the wall, facing your bed. You tried laying down, but the comforter still smelled like him. You tried to read and distract yourself, but you kept getting the pages wet. Tears were still drying on your face and new ones came up when you heard his voice. You were so tired at that point, head hurting. Your hand was at your mouth, arms crossed on top of your knees, and you bit your thumbnail. Working for another three hours after you got the delivery, you put it out of your mind, but everything came back when you spotted them on the counter, coming out of your studio.

"(Y/N)?" San called again, but you still didn't reply.

"(Y/N)?" He was coming down the hall and you got up reluctantly, sniffing hard while grabbing a tissue. You blew your nose and he knocked on the door.

"Come in." Your voice was a bit hoarse and when he came in, seeing your eyes and cheeks red, tissue rubbing at your nose, his face fell.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He immediately came forward, hands going to your cheeks, thumbs rubbing over the skin.

"J-just…" You forced a smile.

"I was just moved from you sending me the flowers, then I was reading…" Your lie was pretty believable since your book was still open, face down on the bed.

"Oh." He slumped in relief, and you wished he hadn't removed his hands from your face.

"You really liked the flowers?" His brow furrowed nervously.

"Yes, San. They're…" Your breath shuddered but you covered it with a soft chuckle.

"They're beautiful, and so thoughtful." You played with the balled-up tissue in your hand, not able to look him in the eye.

"Good! I got food from the place on the corner you like so much." He led you out to the main room and you slowly followed. You tried to maintain your normal attitude while you ate, and it got easier as you both joked and he told you about his day. Your phone dinged and you glanced down. When the name registered, your entire body stiffened and you exhaled hard, picking the device up to look at the message.

You doin' good? Is Sannie playing nice?

Wooyoung…

"Is it Woo?"

"Yeah." You nodded a bit, typing out a simple yes, you sent it. His phone dinged then as well and he scoffed at what he read.

"He knows you're lying." San shot you a deadpan look and your jaw dropped a bit, then you cleared your throat.

"Why does he think that?"

"You didn't capitalize it. It was too short too." San stuck his tongue against his cheek, making it poke out. You rolled your eyes.

"Bitch." You sneered, grabbing the phone and redoing the message.

I'm not lying. I'm busy. Grow up.

You weren't normally terse with him like that. He would definitely know something was up. Backspacing, you redid it once again.

I'm not lying. We were busy eating. I'm fine and yes, San is being nice. Really nice.

You hit send and you didn't get a reply after he read it, but San's went off. He glared at what he saw, not bothering to reply himself, putting his phone face down on the counter; he even muted it.

"What did he say?" You were curious but tried to maintain a neutral tone.

"Little shit, just something about not becoming your new best friend." That was a lie and you knew it but let the topic drop.

"I'm going to play a game with the guys for a bit, do you want to watch?"

"You're gonna use Woo's computer?"

"Sure am." He smiled, his dimples revealing themselves. You considered it, then you were going to say yes, then considered it again.

"I think I'll finish that show I started the other day." You told him and he shrugged, going off to do what he said after cleaning up his dishes. You hadn't finished yet, so you took the last few bites, then just left the dish in the sink. Slumping over to the couch, you put on the show and only kind of watched it. You were rewatching anyway…

"Fuck!" You sat up, your heart beating so fast, breathing so hard you felt like you had just run a mile. Not caring how bad it messed up your hair, you buried your fingers in at the scalp, pulling on the strands to center yourself in the waking realm. Why the hell were your nightmares coming back so strong? In the low pink light of your room, you glared at the bouquet of flowers on your dresser. They did jack shit.

"Don't take it out on the flowers…" You scolded yourself, sitting back against the headboard. You did so quite hard, enough so to rattle the frame, and the attached nightstand. The glass of water you had on it fell over, rolled, then fell off, the glass shattering on the hard wood.

"Shit!" You almost got out of bed, but then moved to go to the other side so you didn't land barefoot on glass.

"(Y/N)?" San had peaked his head in, he wasn't in his pajamas yet, so he must have just gotten done with his game.

"Hey, wait!" He stopped you as you moved to start picking up the pieces, slippers on just in case. He was in crocs, so he took the trash can from you. Using his sleeve over his hand, he gently picked up the fragments and put them in. He looked up when you handed him a roll of tape. He pulled a section out and tore it off, smacking it against the floor to pick up any small bits that might be left.

"What happened?" San threw the tape away too and you put the bin back down.

"I…I had another nightmare, and so I rattled the bed frame and the glass on the nightstand fell."

"Another? Maybe you can't sleep without me." He smirked playfully, but it fell when he noticed you didn't even twitch your lips.

"Give me like five minutes." He held his hand up to motion you to wait, heading back down the hall. Sighing, you sat on the bed, feet on the floor. Staring at the small scratch on the wall that was left by your keys when you tripped and caught yourself, you pondered what your bad dreams could mean. Why were you having so many? You almost never had more than one in such a short time frame. Was it really just from not having your sister around? That wouldn't make sense…

"Here, let's get you to sleep." San came in, wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Seriously? Out of all the things he could possibly wear, he had to put on that? Did he not know what the simple combination did?

"Come here." He had gotten under the covers, arms open, waiting for you. Swallowing hard, you laid back down in his embrace, feeling comforted already. That scared you, honestly, almost more than the bad dreams.

"What are you thinking about?" He had seen your pensive face.

"Nothing-"

"No. Tell me." You huffed in reply.

"Did…Did you kiss me yesterday night?" You felt him stiffen, much like you normally did.

"I did, on the forehead-"

"No. Tell me." You shot back at him. San stayed quiet for a second and you could almost hear the wheels in his head turning.

"Yes." His reply was soft, like the kiss on the corner of your mouth from before.

"What do I have no idea about?" He really hadn't thought you were awake, and he shifted nervously before responding. The man was taking his sweet time, and you were about to give up, not having the energy to press the issue.

"How much I like you…" He finally got out; your suspicions confirmed. He thought you would flinch, stiffen up, even hitch your breath, but he got nothing, so he pulled away enough to look at your face. It was flat, but your eyes were glossy.

"How much?" His eyes widened at your question.

"How much?" He repeated.

"How much do you like me?" He licked his lips, nervous, but then the nerves seemed to dissipate. The hand on your waist went up to cup your cheek, the arm under your head wrapping around your shoulders. When his lips lightly touched yours, you at first thought the contact generated a static shock. But he didn't flinch back, instead, he fully pressed his lips on yours. You shivered, easily melting into the kiss. Your hands flew up to cup his jaw, the ends of your fingers burying in his hair. He grunted, rolling a bit so he was leaning over you some. You whined when his hand rested on your hip, thumb brushing the exposed skin from where your tank top rode up. Your hands moved down, one going to scratch at the hair on the nape of his neck, the other slinking under the collar of his shirt, over his broad back. San took the opportunity when your whine slightly parted your lips, tongue brushing the lower one. You let him in, whining louder as his tongue tasted yours. He was over you completely then, forearm easily holding his weight over you, the hand on your hip slipping lower past the waistband of your sleep pants. Deep down you knew you shouldn't, knew you might regret it, feel horrible, feel like you used him, feel like you were somehow betraying Wooyoung…

"(Y/N)-" San pulled away from the kiss, both of your lips starting to swell from the pressure, saliva leaving a strand of connection.

"Just- please- need you-" You heaved out and he groaned. Making sure he was still close enough to brush his lips over yours, he got on his up on his knees, kneeling over you more, one thigh pressing between yours to open your legs. He wrestled with his shirt a bit, pulling away enough to get it over his head and off, his mouth sealing back to yours as he threw the shirt behind him somewhere. As San's tongue ran over your own, the roof of your mouth, your teeth, anywhere it could reach, you couldn't help but feel over him. His soft skin stretched over his toned chest and abs, his broad shoulders and back leading down to his narrow waist. While he swallowed your tongue and moans, his hands deftly undid the buttons of your pajama shirt, hauling you up to sit so he could take it off. Your tank was swiftly removed as well, joining his own shirt somewhere on the floor. He bit your lip when he pulled back from the kiss, his leading a trail down to your jaw, neck, over your throat and collar bone. His hands on your bare skin felt searing, one on your lower back to lead you to lift your hips. San led you to wrap your still covered legs around his waist, his other hand had cupped your breast, kneading the flesh, the skin pebbling into goosebumps from the sensation. You gasped hard as his lips wrapped over one of your nipples, and at the same time, he ground his growing hard-on into your rapidly soaking cunt through both of your pants. He was spurred on by your breathing picking up, soft moans escaping you. As he kissed over to and sealed his lips over your other nipple, he wrestled your pants and panties off at the same time.

"S-San-!" Your whole body twitched as his fingers met your glistening folds, the first easily sliding in, wiggling against your walls.

"Fucking soaked, precious." He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and through your fingers pressing against him. You mewled when his kisses went back up to your neck, full on whimpering when his tongue licked a path from the bow of your collar bone and up to the base of your ear.

"Gonna fuck you so good, baby girl." His low voice, right in your ear, took your breath away, his second finger spreading you open. He tried to chuckle at your yelp as he softly pressed his teeth against the skin of your neck, sucking hard, working blood to the surface of your skin to leave his mark.

"W-wait-!" Your body shuddered, back arching, head thrown back when he added a third finger, his thumb pressing over your clit.

"Gotta get your cute little pussy ready, you're too tight for my cock, love." San's nose ran over your throat, then rested his forehead on your collarbone. He looked down at where you were sucking his fingers in, not able to hold in his mirth. He loved how tiny you felt under him, writhing and whimpering. He had been waiting for this for so long, and he knew you were vulnerable, and shouldn't be taking the opportunity, but he was weak. If you were going to ask for him, he would give you what you wanted.

"Fu- God! San!" Your cunt clenched his fingers, pulsing with your heart and he circled your clit, lips going back to hover over yours.

"Cum for me, sweetheart." He prompted and you immediately did, blunt nails digging into the skin of his upper back, head lolling against the pillow. San smirked above you, watching your eyes roll back in your head as your cunt spasmed, soaking his hand. Your body shivered one last time as he removed his fingers, barely registering as he lapped his tongue over his fingers, groaning at your taste. Your tired eyes tried to focus as he climbed off the bed, figure out what he was doing. You yelped when his hands on your ankles yanked you down the bed, the comforter falling to the floor and he knelt on it, leveling his face with your swollen cunt.

"San-?!" Your voice ended in a very undignified choking sound as he buried his tongue inside your core, filling the void his fingers had left. He wasn't planning on fucking you open with his tongue, but you tasted too fucking good. His strong hands gripped your inner thighs, so hard he was definitely going to bruise them, holding you open. Your body was still weak from your orgasm, so you couldn't fight him anyway. San pressed his tongue against your gummy walls, pulling back so he could swipe through your folds, then circle your clit. You were still sensitive, the sensation jolted you, he could feel your muscles spasm under his hands. Your next orgasm was coming on fast, and your fingers wove through his hair, trying to ground yourself through your hands, his own not allowing your hips to ride his tongue.

"S-San~!" You fell apart on his tongue that time and he eagerly drank and swallowed every drop that fell from your needy cunt, reveling in the pleasure he was bringing over you. Kissing your swollen nub, you whimpered and he stood up, even though his pants were loose, they were tight against his hard cock. Your eyes were glazed over, head rolling to the side, staring at the wall. Your gaze was drawn back to him as he pulled the waistband of his pants and boxers up and over his swollen dick and your mouth watered when the clothing fell, leaving him naked.

"Fuck." You huffed, still catching your breath and he couldn't fight the smug grin that spread over his face. No wonder he felt the need to prep you, you didn’t even know if you could get your fingers all the way around him.

"Come here, precious." He easily lifts you to haul you back up the bed, gently letting your head hit the pillow. The other he brought to rest under your lower back, finally letting you down. Your hips angled up allowed him to sit up higher on his knees to give him better leverage. When the fat head of his cock met your cunt you clenched your jaw, readying for the stretch.

"Wait, do I need a con-"

"Just fuck me, San." You wanted to sound more assertive, but you just whined like a spoiled child.

"Okay, precious." His smirk grew and he wrapped his arm around your left leg by your knee, the other leg spread with his hand on your inner thigh. When San started to press in you gasped with each breath, trying to breathe through him splitting you open. You were so tight around him, your gummy walls erratically spasming around his cock, your wet heat felt incredible. He groaned low and long as your cunt swallowed each inch of him, somehow accommodating his thick length.

"Such a good girl, sweetheart." He cooed as he bottomed out, adjusting your legs to spread you open even further, giving him a perfect view. You were so wet, your slick already glistening on the base of his cock. Your entire body was in shock, almost. Everything seemed to be spasming at him rearranging your guts, filling you so completely and wonderfully, you wondered if anyone would suffice after him. You were already drunk on his delicious cock, and he hadn't even moved yet. He could tell from having felt it on his fingers and tongue, that your cunt was throbbing, ready for you to cum again. He was going to fuck you through your high so many times that tears would flow over your cheeks again, but from bliss instead of sorrow and frustration. He wanted to fuck every little negative thought from your pretty head, drive away the memory of your nightmares. Wanted to leave you only with thoughts of him, his hands, his lips and tongue, his voice, and his cock. He was already making head way it seemed.

"Can I move, precious?" San leaned down to gently kiss at the corner of your mouth, tongue brushing over your bottom lip. You nodded, whining, not able to think to get a word out. He barely pulled out an inch, making you whimper, the searing stretch filling you with painful pleasure. San artfully snapped his hips, the tip of his cock hammering your back wall and cervix, pelvis meeting your clit, sending you even closer to the edge. The next thrust was a little deeper, a little harder and your whole body went limp, the third thrust nearly made you black out. Your cunt spasmed, squirting slick and wet over his groin and balls, core clenching his cock so tight he had to breathe hard to hold back. He chuckled as your orgasm waved through you over and over, and he wondered how long you had needed to get fucked. He was so glad he was the one to do so, and he would eagerly do it over and over, till you were dumb and stupid for him. A tiny voice inside him kept repeating to him that he would always fuck you better than Wooyoung, that his best friend would never be able to ravish you the way he was planning. Over and over-

"San, please, please…" He wasn’t sure what you were begging for, but your high had laid, so he continued. Throwing your legs over his elbows, pressing closer to you so you were nearly folded in half, he huffed a laugh.

"You want me to fuck you good, love?"

"Yes!"

"Want my cock to fuck you stupid?"

"YES, fuck PLEASE." His hips rolled, leaving only a bit more than the head of his cock in you, before filling you fast and hard again. Your already kind of flimsy headboard thudded hard against the brick wall, creaking under the power of his hips slamming his cock into you, skin slapping, grunts leaving him and mewls leaving you. Your fingers turned white as you gripped your sheets hard, worried that the worn material might tear despite your blunt nails.

"God, you're so fucking perfect (Y/N)~" San groaned, letting one of your legs go so you wrapped it around his narrow waist. The now free hand gripped over the one you had up by your head, easing your fingers out of the sheets so they could instead weave through his. San's lips fell back to yours, thrusts growing shallower but no less hard, you felt like he might dislodge a kidney with the strength behind each motion. As his pelvis met yours, he ground into your clit, and you were growing close to another orgasm, and he was planning on letting go with you. He tried so hard to maintain his rhythm, almost having to just grind into you to keep control, fucking so deep inside you thought he was in your throat.

"Cum for me, precious. Cum on my cock." San pulled back from the kiss, and his words granted you your relief, your final climax really did make your vision go black, flashes of white dotting your vision and his voice rumbled through the room as his hot cum painted your insides white. He came so much that his release spilled out from where he split you open, a mix of your cum dripping onto the sheets. You had fallen limp like a rag doll, eyes closed, chest heaving, little whines accompanied each breath. He was heaving for air as well, the emotions he felt from finally being inside you, pleasuring you, hitting him then. If he already liked you, he was truly infatuated then, never wanting to leave your hold or your warmth.

When consciousness finally washed over you, it took you a second to figure out why the hell you were so sore. Your thighs were sore, random spots on your neck and shoulders, your hips, back, and cunt. Everything hit you then and your body protested as you wiggled on the bed, trying to get the strength to sit up. Your bed was once again empty despite having shared it for the night.

"Fuck." You whimpered as your lower half pulsed as you got out of bed, legs incredibly weak. You were naked as the day you were born, and you pretty much limped over to the bathroom. After relieving yourself, you finally looked in the mirror, gasping. There were several dark red and purple marks over your neck, shoulders and chest, one mark even had teeth marks.

"Choi San!" You scolded him despite his absence, rubbing the little bruises and wincing. You were glad you worked from home, because there was no way to cover the hickeys in the middle of May. You took a shower, the hot water washing away many different layers from your body. You winced when the water flowed over your sore pussy, still a bit swollen from being pleasantly ruined by San's monster cock. Getting out of the shower, you got dressed in a matching tank top and shorts, the mint-colored fabric was soft and loose. There was no way you could handle any pressure on your cunt, so you went commando. San had already seen everything anyway. Nervously and shakily going down the hall to the main room, you heard the other shower running. Cookie lifted her head from where she laid right in front of the door, slowly getting up and stretching before going to greet you.

"Good morning~" You cooed at your pup and then limped over to the fridge, your dog whining a bit at your strange gait. She watched with interest as you pulled some ingredients out of the fridge, needing some protein to compensate for the intense work out you had gone through. When your husky smelled the bacon as soon as you opened the package, she started to wag her tail, whimpering.

"No begging!" You scolded the dog, and she was so well trained she simply hung her head and trudged away, down the hall and presumably into your sister's room. You barely heard the shower turn off and the door open over the popping and sizzling of the bacon and eggs in their pans. You had assumed he would go to his room to get dressed, but you startled when he wrapped his arms around your middle from behind.

"San, I'm cooking!" you scolded, trying to pry his arms off of you. Your heart rate had spiked, more from fear than bashfulness. You still hadn't processed what had happened the night before, especially not emotionally.

"Sorry!" He giggled and leg you go, but only moved to stand next to you. Your face was warm and your eyes stung a bit, brow furrowed. Once all the food was plated and the heat of the stove was off, you turned to him, taking a step back.

"San, I think-"

"Let's eat first, precious. I tired you out." He took both of the plates, walking around you to get to the dining table. You followed after him slowly and he pulled a chair out for you which you gratefully sat down on. Then you regretted it, the hard wood pressing into your sore thighs and groin. You then noticed he was in a white tank top and blue track pants, towel around his neck. He always looked so good… Despite wanting to talk with him, you were really freaking hungry, so you ate first, trying to ignore his warm and fond gaze. You knew before you let him rail you into next week that you would regret it. You did, you regretted it and felt guilty. Felt like you used him. Feel like you betrayed Wooyoung… The final bite of food was harder for you to swallow along with the knot of emotions rising up. Your breath shuddered, and he noticed the tear fall from your eye and onto the empty plate.

"Hey, baby girl, what's wrong?" He immediately got up, coming to your side and kneeling so he could look up at you. Your crying picked up then, your hands covering your mouth to try and muffle your sobs, scooting back and away from him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You repeated between each sob that made you gasp, desperate to let out the emotions that had finally boiled over.

"Oh, precious." He sighed, trying to pull you into a hug and you pushed your chair back further, standing up so fast the chair rocked then fell back, clattering onto the floor. San stayed where he was, feeling utterly helpless as you crumbled to the floor. You balled your fists on the wood floor, tears splatting on your skin and then floor. Despite wanting so bad to go to you, he stayed in the same spot, not wanting to step over the line.

"God, I'm such a fucking bitch." You whimpered to yourself and he couldn't disagree more.

"No, no, precious girl, you're not." He finally got up, kneeling back in front of you, but not trying to touch or hold you.

"Yes, I am! I…God, I used you. I took the chance, and I shouldn't have. I…What about…" You heaved for air and he felt his heart breaking. Sighing, he shifted to sitting with his legs crossed instead, waiting patiently for you to calm down.

"What about Wooyoung?" Your voice was quiet, but not only did he know what you were going to say, he had a feeling that's what your issue was. He felt a bit like he took advantage of you since you were obviously emotionally weak at the time. Why did you feel like that? Did it hurt to see you so upset because of your feelings for his best friend? Of course. But he knew the situation going into it.

"I'm sorry, San. I can't do this. You're Wooyoung's best friend-"

"Are you in love with Wooyoung, or is it just a crush?" His question threw you off.

"I…I don't-"

"Why are you waiting for him when it's possible he'll never go to you? I'm right here." He insisted and you sniffed, trying to stop your tears.

"But if there's a chance-"

"Look, I didn't want to go here, but… Wooyoung is in love with your sister, okay? He doesn’t just like her, or have a crush on her, he's in love. If you're not in love with him, you can drop it, right? …I'm right here." His voice had gotten a bit unsteady, his own emotions becoming difficult to control.

"I think you should go home." Your sobs had quieted, but that sentence pierced him harder than everything else. He wanted to argue, try and convince you, but if you needed space, he would give it to you.

By the time his bag was packed and he was leaving Wooyoung's room, you had gotten up off the floor, picked up the chair and was cleaning the dishes from breakfast.

"If you need anything…" He drifted off, hand on the doorknob. You trudged over to the door as he opened it, planning on locking the door with the chain after he was gone. You wouldn't meet his eye, and he prayed desperately that you wouldn't have a nightmare that night without him or anyone else there.

When the door closed, you slowly locked it with the chain, dropping your hand. He was standing on the other side of the door, not wanting to leave yet. He closed his eyes tight when he heard your start to cry again. You leaned against the door after it shut, sliding to the floor in a heap, sobbing once again. You were beginning to realize you liked San, liked him back. Maybe even more than Wooyoung, which was terrifying. Just over the short amount of time he had been staying with you, he had needled his way into your heart, more than as just a friend. Little did you know, San was still on the other side of the door, trying not to cry himself listening to you sob. Your near wails quieted as new feelings bubbled up. You thought you wanted him gone, so you could process, but thinking of him leaving shattered you.

"Please, please, please." He suddenly heard you speaking, stepping away from the door. He heard the chair rattle as you unlocked the door and opened it. You weren't expecting him to still be right there, but relief washed over you. You began to cry again, more in relief, and he immediately went back in. He dropped his bag and returned your embrace, hugging you close to him as you cried. San rested his cheek against the side of your head, petting your soft hair, a few tears of his own hitting your shoulder.

"(Y/N), oh sweet girl." He sniffed, easily holding you when you went limp in his arms. You let him lift you princess style, refusing to loosen your arm's hold around his neck and shoulders. Kicking the door closed, he carried you over to the couch, sitting down so you could sit on his lap. Your sobs ceased, his hands rubbing comfortingly over your back.

"I'm sorry." Your soft whimper hurt him, to hear you so defeated.

"(Y/N), precious, why are you so sorry?"

"I…I used you."

"How?"

"I was upset and took advantage of your feelings for me."

"I know." You pulled back abruptly, gaping at him.

"Sweetheart, I took advantage of you too. You were vulnerable-"

"San, San…" He had started to ramble nonsense, so you cupped his jaw, bringing his attention back to you.

"I'm sorry I was being…" You licked your lips, thinking, "I let my feelings for Wooyoung cloud my real- You asked if I loved Wooyoung? No, I don't. It is just a crush…" Your thumb ran over his cheekbone, his wide, beautiful eyes shining up at you.

"I know that I'm not your first choice. I understand that. Honestly, I don't care if I'm your second choice, or even your third. All that matters, is that you choose me in the end." You sniffled at his words, huffing a slightly sad laugh.

"I thought that there was only one choice, but…"

"But?"

"You're right here." You sighed, your own face softening; you had finally rationalized everything. Why your heart thumped so fast, why his actions brought tears to your eyes…Why you needed him to hold you to keep the nightmares away and why they came back when he wasn't there.

"(Y/N)… I didn't want to overwhelm you, but- I love you. I love you so much, I have for so long." His own emotions were bubbling up, his own eyes tearing up along with yours.

"We've known each other, what, five years?" You nodded, whimpering, trying to not cry harder.

"I started liking you three months in. It was when you went to adopt Cookie, and you were mobbed by all the puppies. You laid there, giggling, and I wanted to be one of those dogs. So bad."

"F-for that long?" You were so shocked you stopped crying. San hummed, rubbing your back, hand slipping under your tank top.

"I've held back so much. Every time you have something on your lip, I want to kiss it off. If you’re cold, I want you to have my jacket. I want to buy every little charm or pretty thing that makes me think of you. To go to Namsan tower and put a lock on with you…" He stopped when you slumped forward, resting your cheek on his shoulder, and he hugged you closer. Your heart had been wanting to break earlier, but all his sweet words filled the cracks in with gold.

"I'm sorry I was so blind, and selfish, and stupid. I'm sorry I can't say I love you back, because I really don't know at this point. But I do know-" you sat up to look at him, "I really, really like you. Will you forgive me for being a horrible person?"

"You're not a horrible person, sweetheart. Not only are your emotions everywhere, you're sleep deprived." His hand went to cup your cheek, brushing another stray tear away.

"Will you show me something?" You bowed your head a bit, face reddening, hands fiddling with the bottom of his sweatshirt.

"Whatever you want, precious."

"Can you show me again, how you feel about me?" Your voice was soft, a bit embarrassed, thinking of what you had asked him that night. Yes, you were sore, but in the best possible way, and you wanted- needed him again.

"Are you sure, pretty girl? I don't think I can hold back like last night." His voice was low, but his gaze had sharpened. What the hell did he mean by that? He held back? What the fuck was he going to do that was more intense than last night?

"You held back?" You questioned and he huffed, a sexy and smug smirk gracing his handsome face.

"Hm. I did. Can you handle me full force?" His eyebrow rose in question and you swallowed hard; he could hear it.

"I think I can…" Your voice was quiet, quivering, but you were excited. Your cunt throbbed, still sore but you were getting hot quickly.

"I need a solid answer, precious."

"Yes. I can." His smirk glitched into a giddy smile for a second, but he gathered his composure.

"What should I do first…?" He wondered aloud, many different possibilities running through his head.

"Can I make a suggestion?" You tried to sound coy and smug like him, but it didn't really work.

"Of course, sweetheart."

"I…" You exhaled carefully, normally not so shy, "I want to swallow your cock." Your eyes flitted up to look at him and his eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned.

"Precious, are you sure? I don't want to hurt you-"

"I want you to fuck my throat, then cum down it." You were building your confidence back up from the response you got from him. Your lips were at his ear, your tongue flicking the little earring he had in, then you kissed the side of his neck.

"On the floor then, baby girl." He almost gasped at how fast you scrambled off of his lap, eagerly and obediently sitting on your knees. You watched with wide eyes as he took his sweatshirt off, then removed the tank he had on underneath. San bit his lip, trying to not giggle as you ogled him. He noticed your hands twitch on your lap, ready to take his pants off yourself.

"Tell me, do you mind if I do all the work?" The intention was clear in his words and tone.

"Yes, please~" You shuffled in your crouch, but stayed still. Your eyes zeroed in on the bulge in his pants, whimpering in need as he once again let his pants fall. His cock was only about half hard; you wiggled your jaw knowing it would end up sore too. You wanted to be sore completely and all over when he was done with you. His hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it a few times, stepping forward so he was within reach, but you stayed still.

"What a good girl you are." He hummed and you eagerly opened your mouth when the head of his dick touched your lips. You groaned at the taste of him, swirling your tongue around the tip, sucking lightly.

"Fuck-" San sighed, hands going to your hair, leading his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth. When he hit the back of your throat, you looked up at him with wide, hazy eyes. As he heard you take a large inhale through your nose, he kept going and your whole body shuddered as his cock went down your throat. Your cunt clenched desperately against itself, not having anything inside to satisfy it.

"Oh, fucking hell, sweetheart." He groaned, your nose pressing to his pelvis. He was impressed you hadn't gagged yet, but you were swallowing over and over trying to get used to the sensation. He stayed there like that for a second, to the point where your head began to swim a bit, the lack of air intoxicating. When he pulled his hips back, just enough that you could desperately suck air in through your nose, he registered the depth that allowed you to breathe.

"Count, precious. I'll bottom out every five thrusts, 'kay?" He instructed and you nodded with a whine in acknowledgement. You tried to hold you jaw in the same position, eagerly sucking on his cock as he thrust, inhaling deep when he went all the way. Each time he groaned, grinding his pelvis against your face. You knew he had stamina, and even though he didn't block your airway each time, your vision was spotting a bit, but not enough for you to stop him. The taste of his precum building made your mouth water, a mix of your saliva and the salty fluid dripping on the hard wood floor and your lap. The slick sound and the mess on your face and his cock brought him that much closer. San smirked at the prick of tears in the corner of your eyes, welling up from his fat cock battering your throat.

"Mmh~ I'm going to cum down your throat, precious. Just like you wanted~" His airy chuckle turned to a groan and he tossed his head back, struggling to keep his rhythm. His dick pulsed hard on your tongue and you finally moved yourself, hands going to his butt, holding him so he couldn't pull back.

"Fuck-!" He grunted and came, pumping thick globs of hot cum into your mouth and throat. You kept swallowing, only gagging a bit then from the sticky substance and he finally pulled out so you could catch your breath. More saliva and cum dripped off your lips, your mouth open, panting. A drop landed on your chest, running down the skin and in between your breasts.

"Such a good girl, love." San grinned at your dazed expression, wide glossy eyes peering up at him.

"You safe?" You took a second to register his question, mind still foggy.

"Pill." You managed to get out hoarsely, throat protesting for several reasons.

"Good, because I'm gonna pump you full." He smirked. You held your hands up for him to help you stand, but he instead bent, wrapping his around your back and lifting you like a child under your arms. The ease to which he did so turned you on even more and you used your own core strength to lift your legs and wrap them around his middle.

He walked forward, pressing you into the wall by the door, cock fully hard again, rubbing over the damp spot of your shorts. Working with him to get your clothes off, your shorts were still dangling off of your ankle when his cock plunged into you. The sudden burn made your cunt clench hard around him and he hissed, still a bit sensitive from his orgasm. You were plenty wet, and he had just fucked you hours prior, but he was so big. It made sense why he prepped you before, and it didn't help you were still sore. But you could not care less, the stinging pain just added to your euphoria.

San groaned when your nails dug into his back for leverage, scratching red welts into the skin.

"Ready?" He didn't wait for your response, thrusting up hard and shallow twice, then rolling his hips to slam into you full force. You threw your head back hitting the wall a bit hard, but you were too immersed in San and his animal pace. Your breasts bounced with every thrust and you held onto his shoulders for dear life. He had your legs over his elbows again, getting as close to you as he could, piercing your core with sharp movements, dragging you hopelessly fast to orgasm. It was hard to catch your breath and moan, let alone speak words, tears built in your eyes. When they rolled over your cheeks, he leaned in to lick the salt away. He hated seeing you cry from sorrow or from being upset, but watching tears of pleasure flow over your red cheeks went straight to his cock. So cute.

"You're so freaking pretty, precious. Love my cock so much you just wanna cry?" His chuckle was slightly patronizing.

"Just go dumb, baby girl, think of nothing but my dick in your tight little cunt."

"San!" You gasped, your next climax starting. He slowed his pace so you could ride the waves, but didn't want to overstimulate you yet, so he forced his pelvis against your swollen clit. With each rolling crest of pleasure, your cunt leaked, making another mess on the floor.

San pulled away from the wall, walking to a different part of the apartment and you protested vehemently when he slowly pulled his cock from your still spasming pussy. He set your feet down, spinning you around and you immediately placed your hands on the window to stay upright- Wait, window!? You gaped, looking out toward the park you could see from the window.

"S-San-?"

"No one can see you up here, at least I don't think…" He chuckled and didn't allow any more argument and fucked back into you.

"Fuck!" You nearly screamed. Somehow, he was even deeper than before, and the front of his hips slapped against your ass with each pound. Your hot breath was fogging the window, even the heat from your palms did so. San's fingers pressed so hard into your flesh; you knew there would be bruises there for sure, maybe darker than the faint yellow ones on your inner thighs from the night before. Struggling a bit with the height difference, you were forced onto your tippy toes, legs quivering as each stroke of his thick cock sapped more and more of your strength.

"Huh, I'm close precious. Gonna fill you up, fuck you full~" He licked his lips like a hungry dog. You squeaked when his strong grip weaved through your hair, wrapping your braid in his first, tugging lightly as he ground his cock as deep as possible, filling your womb with even more of his seed. It was so hot; he was so deep and even the sensation of him tugging on your hair felt so good. Your body eked out another smaller orgasm, helping him ride his out. He was still hard, albeit a little bit less so. You didn't know if your poor little cunt and body could take much more, but your mind didn't care. If we wanted to rail you till you passed out, you would thank him when you came to. When San pulled his cock out again, more globs of cum leaked out of your abused hole, which still was twitching. He smirked at your quivering body, not having moved much, and cooed as he easily picked you up like a sack of potatoes, then transitioned to a princess carry. Your head flopped as you panted for air, waiting patiently as he carried you back to your room, shutting the door to prevent your pup from following. However, when he put you on the bed, he didn't join right away, instead heading for your standing mirror. He moved it to rest facing the side of your bed and you hazily registered the act. Letting him maneuver you, he sat with you on his lap, back facing him, proud cock arching against your cunt.

"Look there, precious." His hand lightly gripped your jaw, forcing your head to turn and see your reflection. You were an absolute mess, but you were too focused on his equally messy cock and the fact that it still wasn't back inside you.

"San, hurry, please!" You whimpered and he chuckled at your insistence, lifting you and slowly pushing you down onto him again. His legs were spread so your knees resting over them were spread wide too, leaving a perfect view of your small pussy taking his girthy dick.

"Fucking gorgeous, (Y/N)." He praised, kissing the side of your head, jaw still in his grasp to make sure you watched.

"I want you to remember this, how it looks when I fuck you, and that no one will ever be able to after me." His words made you whimper, the small noise rising in pitch and volume as he started to thrust up into you, also moving you with the arm around your middle. Like you were being hypnotized you watched San's cock pull out halfway before sinking back into you, so much cum and slick dripping from where he sat inside you.

"You're so hot like this." San grunted, the hand on your stomach sliding down to circle your clit. It stung, overstimulated, and you felt his dick pulsing; he was close too.

"One more for me precious, one more." He coached, then one, two, he came again. There was no more room inside you, the thick white jizz spilled over, mixing with the squirting slick and making yet again another mess on the floor. You both were panting, reveling in the afterglow, and sleep was trying to consume you once again. Later, you were mad at yourself, for not choosing San sooner. He should never have been the second choice.

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