#and I still don’t know if I’m allowed to say them so I just don’t bc they make me uncomfortable
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Batboys and reader doing the hear me out cake trend and reader pulls out a picture of Bruce when he was in his prime.
Apologies anon but this trend…Do not get me started on how misconstrued the phrase ‘hear me out’ is. I’ll rant about how a lot of ppl should look up the definition first. I’m very passionate about how butchered the trend is that every time I see one I can’t help but think ‘not a hear me out, try again or don’t to save my small remnants of sanity.’ I hate it so much.
Dick
Pouts.
‘My dad? Really?’ He’d ask you.
‘Yeah, what can I say he was a total hunk.’ You shrugged.
‘Was?!’ Dick replied, looking at you as though you had grown a second head. ‘What is he now then chopped liver? Do you not like older men?! Do they loose their charm the moment they have a few grey hairs and lines on their face?!’ He exclaims.
This wasn’t what you were expecting when doing this challenge because now you were being grilled by dick on whether you’ll still feel attractive to him when he himself gets old and grey.
‘I don’t have anything against older men dick, I just find your dad hot in this specific picture.’ You defended yourself and dick only puts his hands on your shoulders and gives them a firm squeeze as he presses his forehead against yours.
‘Sweetheart I don’t think you understand because what do you mean you find him hotter in the picture?! It’s Bruce the man is just naturally photogenic!’ Dick tells you. ‘You could’ve chosen a recent picture of Bruce and say the exact same thing.’
‘Eh, it’s not the same thing.’ You say and dick felt as though he might as well rip his hair from his head because what do you mean it’s not the same thing?! He was now more certain that you didn’t like older men if Bruce was only appealing to you in his youth, his supposed prime.
Needless to say the conversation diverted from the fact that you found his dad hot, to one where dick was trying to prove to himself that you just didn’t like older men/ silver foxes for whatever absurd reason.
Jason
He’s oddly silent.
You feared you did something the moment you pulled the picture of young Bruce Wayne out to put on the cake.
The wait was over the moment he did decide to say something but it was nothing like you’d expect to come out of his mouth;
‘Out of all the pictures there are of Bruce, that’s the one you picked? Nothing about that picture is flattering to him in any way whatsoever.’
‘Oh you’re just jealous.’ You’d tell him and Jason only raises his brow at you.
‘Jealous, babe have you seen me? What’s there to be jealous of that old bat.’ Jason replies as he gestures towards himself before pinching your cheeks. ‘I just think it’s adorable how you consider Bruce in his prime as a hear me out, it’s laughable really but you do you chipmunk.’ He adds.
However when you weren’t looking, he’d take the picture of Bruce from the cake and throw it over his shoulder, for there was no way in hell he was going to have a picture of Bruce on a cake. No sir, Jason would much rather die again than allow his own father to overstay his welcome on the damn cake.
He’d even act innocent when you would ask where the picture went as though he didn’t set it on fire with a lighter after plucking it off the cake. ‘It must’ve grew legs and walked off.’ He’d shrug but it wasn’t hard to know the truth.
His dad can fuck off away from the cake and you.
Damian
Another one who’s not so amused by the fact that you added his father on a ‘hear me out’ cake.
He doesn’t partake in such stupid trends that’ll sooner or later long forgotten by the public consciousness in favour of a new trend that’ll run itself to the ground just as quickly as the last. He questions the publics attention span if it was this short and unreliable, he really does and fears that the age of stupidity has begun with people who think a conventional attractive man with a Roman nose or any other unique feature is a ‘hear me out.’
As if they were any less attractive than a man with a plain featured, and rather unappealing and basic appearance. They’re weren’t, if anything people with romantic noses or any other unique features were just as attractive as the plained featured ones, and Damian found it rather ridiculous that is what is being considered a secrete that many think they’ll be judged for finding appealing.
‘My father? Really?’ He’d say as he looked between you and the picture of his father.
‘Yeah.’ You shrugged.
Damian only sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. ‘A conventionally attractive man is you hear me out?’
‘Not just any conventionally attractive man-‘ you tried to explain but Damian didn’t allow you the space to do so.
‘My father in his prime doesn’t count, you should really do better research before putting random people on a cake, or better yet don’t partake in a challenge you don’t understand.’ Was all Damian said before he leaves the room, he’s not impressed and feared that there was too many people who for some stupid reason also though his father in his prime is a ‘hear me out.’
It freaks him out and disappoints him greatly of what the future of Gotham and humanity as a whole would look like if these people were to be at the helm.
Tim
Not amused.
He’s sick and tired of people putting conventional attractive people and anthropomorphic animals who are drawn in a specific way to elicit such emotions out of people.
So to see that you had put his father, more specifically Bruce in his first steps as the dark knight, he couldn’t help but look at you disappointedly.
One, you obviously didn’t understand the concept of a hear me out and Tim is more then ready to educate you on what one is with his long ass PowerPoint presentation. And two, really? His dad? What was wrong with his dad in his current old age? Did you have something against older men?
Wait- why was he so suddenly concerned whether or not you find his father less appealing now than how he looked in his prime? He should be more focused on the fact that you found such pristine picture of Bruce during that time, he’s tried multiple times but the resolution was god awful and didn’t do anything to flatter Bruce.
You’re still getting lectured on what a proper hear me out is though. Tim’s got fucking tons.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc comics x reader#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#jason todd fluff#jason todd x y/n#jason todd imagines#jason todd x you#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne fluff#tim drake x you#tim drake imagines#tim drake x reader#tim drake imagine#red hood x you#red hood imagine
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I didn’t say D&D alone has those features:
I said ANY ttrpg does. My first ttrpg systems and campaigns (in which I was a player) were fate, fantasy age, and d20 modern. Then I went into 3.5 as my first actual d&d game.
I also did mention using other systems:
And regarding contributing to a monopoly by continuing to play things I already own… this is ludicrous. I’m not running an actual play channel and promoting WotC, I’m playing a private game with my friends using books we already have, playing the way we want to that’s fun for us. If people want to get rid of things they already own/enjoy because the creators have been outed as problematic, that’s their choice to make. But I don’t think anything but wastefulness would come from me throwing out my 5e books, particularly when I still use them and am no longer financially supporting the company. I support indie games and other ttrpg devs actively by playing and buying their games when I can and when they are in my wheelhouse. I’m sorry that’s apparently not enough for you.
Ptba is definitely more straight forward than d&d, and many games are, I agree. But that doesn’t mean no one should play or enjoy 5e. I’m not equating all non-d&d games with being kooky weird arthouse by using my movie analogy, I’m talking about brand consciousness. If someone hasn’t ever heard of d&d, there’s low likelihood they’d know of pathfinder. Same as how if someone has never heard of Saw, they probably haven’t heard of, I don’t know, the Coffee Table. So if i show them Saw, which is easily accessible, and they like it, i can then show them other things similar from smaller creators. I am fundamentally saying the exact same thing as you with your example of Skinnamarink. I think if people start with 5e and like it, that’s a gateway to trying a ton of other things they might like as much if not more. The point is that without the more known brand, chances are that lots of people wouldn’t be swayed to try something else that is talked about less in the mainstream.
Ultimately, my main point still stands: people can do whatever they want with things they have, and play however they like to. No one needs to or should have to justify using homebrew or modifying the game to suit their needs. Playing a game with like minded people in a way that works for all of them, is not a moral or ethical or intellectual failing. It’s just people playing a private game for fun, and deciding to let a couple of rules slide or allowing some interesting play that bends a rule in-game is not a crime. Should more people try stuff that isn’t 5e? Absolutely they should. Are people who vocally refuse to play anything but 5e missing out? Yes. They are. But again, that’s their prerogative, even if it’s unfortunate that they’re closed minded.
I hope you find your audience. Developing games is a hard thing to do, and it’s increasingly an uphill battle to be noticed. Good luck.
I think an important part of the "D&D is easy to learn" argument is that a lot of those people don't actually know how to play D&D. They know they need to roll a d20 and add some numbers and sometimes they need to roll another type of die for damage. A part of it is the culture of basically fucking around and letting the GM sort it out. Players don't actually feel the need to learn the rules.
Now I don't think the above actually counts as knowing the rules. D&D is a relatively crunchy game that actually rewards system mastery and actually learning how to play D&D well, as in to make mechanically informed tactical decisions and utilizing the mechanics to your advantage, is actually a skill that needs to be learned and cultivated. None of that is to say that you need to be a perfectly tuned CharOp machine to know how to play D&D. But to actually start to make the sorts of decisions D&D as a game rewards you kind of need to know the rules.
And like, a lot of people don't seem to know the rules. They know how to play D&D in the most abstract sense of knowing that they need to say things and sometimes the person scowling at them from behind the screen will ask them to roll a die. But that's hardly engaging with the mechanics of the game, like the actual game part.
And to paraphrase @prokopetz this also contributes to the impression that other games are hard to learn: because a lot of other games don't have the same culture of play of D&D so like instead of letting new players coast by with a shallow understanding of the rules and letting the GM do all the work, they ask players to start making mechanically informed decisions right away. Sure, it can suck for onboarding, but learning from your mistakes can often be a great way to learn.
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I love how instantly protective Rumble is in Alcohol Eyes. He’s very open about what he wants especially compared to the other Decepticons. He knows he likes this human and he’s willing to show the other people around too :)
He’s pretty much in love- or thinks he is. 18+ 🌶️
Alcohol Eyes Pt 6
Rumble x Reader
• Laughing instead of crying, because he’s so serious about it. And of course, he’s a bit off. Actually believes he’s an alien robot because he’s wearing a costume. You’ve always been able to pick them. So it’s no real surprise, just a disappointment. Smile wavering as your eyes dip down. Snag on that bit of his anatomy that’s still happy to see you despite what you’d just done. And, oh. Yeah, that’s not part of the costume. That’s real.
• “Damn, you are an alien.” Uncertain, he watches you flop on your back with an arm across your eyes. Still not screaming, though. “Holiest of shits, I fucked an alien.” Crawling up your body and bracing himself so his face is inches from yours, your hand bumps his jaw when you move your arm to look at him. Aware of his spike pulsing against your belly, as he waits for you to freak out, reject him. Wanting you to want him still.
• “To be fair, we both did,” he says, voice so solemn about it you start cracking up again. Half tempted to drag him down and go another round, since sanity is already out the window. And because that thick spike is rubbing against you as he shifts over you, leaving a wet smear. Gently pushing against his shoulder until he reluctantly shifts to lay sideways beside you, you sit up and swing your legs over the side of the bed. Pleasantly sore and desperately needing coffee to make any sense of this madness. “Don’t go,” he murmurs, moving to hook an arm around you and drag himself closer. Feel his mouth on your hip and you shiver as you look down at him.
• “I’m not running away,” you say, soft hand touching his helm as he mouths your warm skin. “But I need to do human things. Do you, um eat? Food?” Rumbling softly as he allows you to slip out of bed, he shadows you as you bend to retrieve a sheer covering off the floor and he moves up behind you, hands on your hips. “Guess the whole alien thing explains the stamina,” you moan, a hand landing on your dresser as he finds and enters you again, keeping you bent forward as he ruts against you.
• Can’t stop himself, just wants to lose himself in the scent and feel of you. Because if this is all he’s allowed, he’s going to enjoy it to the fullest. Wonders if he can just keep you, ask for his own quarters and just take you. Keep you in his berth. As tempting as the idea is, he’s not sure that you wouldn’t come to hate him for it. Part of what he enjoys so much about you is how impulsive you are. How wild. Trapping you might kill that spirit. But he could sneak out and return here, couldn’t he? Spend his nights in your bed. Groaning as his hips snap against you, listening to those scandalous, illicit sounds you make as you take his spike, he never wants this to end.
• You’re not going to be able to walk if he keeps this up, already sore in the best way possible, thighs trembling. Not only meeting your need, but exceeding it. In the back of your mind, there’s concerns, because this sci-fi stuff? You probably need to be asking some questions instead of pushing back to meet his thrusts on a breathy moan. Head dropping as your fingers claw at the dresser top when his thrusts become rougher, wilder, you hear the knock on the front door and swear explosively. Feel him shift against you, grinding against you and tipping you over the edge. Coming apart as his hips snap against you with wet sounds before he’s joining you. And whoever it is at the door is banging on it now. “Want me to kill them?” He growls in your ear, hips rocking shallowly against you. Feeling his excess sliding down the inside of your thigh.
• Laughing, you reach back and push against him until he lets you go and you find your coverup again and slip it on. Seeing his lips thin in disapproval. Hearing him growl that he’ll answer the door. Tempting you to point out that he’s just swinging free right now, but hell, if it’s a census worker or a solicitor at this time of morning, they deserve an eyeful of angry, alien junk. Moving into the kitchen, you get coffee going and play with the hem of your sheer coverup. A present from the last guy, it really doesn’t do anything to actually cover anything. When you hear the door close without any screaming, you turn toward the hall and freeze. Oh, yeah. There’d been two of them, hadn’t there. Your alien bestie and his alien twin. Who’s staring openly at you and your everything not at all hidden by sheer lace. Oops.
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O is for the only one I see ─ alexia putellas x reader
part 2 of my l-o-v-e miniseries. full masterlist here!
in which: you and Alexia have your first communication mishap after a family meeting gone wrong
warnings: argument, miscommunication, insecure reader
wc: 7.9k
an: i hope you understand the concept lol. i think the name 'miniseries' makes it sound like it's all gonna be 1 continuous story but it's more a one-shot vibe based on a lyric each time, as i describe in the summary. nonetheless, hope you enjoy!
In the past few months, Alexia had seamlessly become a part of your every day in ways you never thought possible. From her quiet insistence on walking you to your car after late dinners to the way she texted you pictures of her travels when she was away for games, it felt... natural. Easy, even. But meeting her family? That was a whole new level, one you weren’t sure you were ready for.
The way Alexia spoke about her family never failed to fill you with warmth. The way she, her mother and her sister bonded together over the course of their lives was something you could only admire. They were pillars in her life, the people she would fall back on when everything else in her life seemed to be going south. And now, you were about to meet them. It wasn’t just nerves bubbling under the surface, it was the nagging doubt if you were going to fit in. If they would approve of you, think of you worthy enough to date their daughter.
Alexia didn’t date. Hadn’t, in a good few years. She held herself to high standards and her family knew that, so they only wanted what was best for her. Whether that’s what you were, they’d have to see. What if they don’t like you?
“You know they’re going to love you,” Alexia said, leaning against the bathroom door frame with her arms crossed over her chest, as you smoothed down your shirt for what felt like the sixth time in as many minutes. You shot her a glare. “You say that now. Wait until Alba starts grilling me like a detective.” She laughed, walking over to you and fixing your collar. She cradled your face, hands on your cheeks and pressed a reassuring, lingering kiss against your lips. “If Alba says anything, I’ll handle her. I just want you to be yourself.” You shot her a grateful smile, turning your gaze back at the mirror, taking your appearance in another time.
“Do you think this is too much? Or… not enough? I can change if you want, I have another couple options laying on the bed.” Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, and some of your nerves settled at the warmth that radiated from her embrace. She pressed gentle kisses against the side of your neck, you leaning your head back against her shoulder to allow her more space. “You look perfect. My family is not expecting royalty, you know. They’re just excited to meet you.” You turned in her grasp then, tucking a couple strands of hair behind her ear. “Excited to meet me? Or excited to see if I’m good enough for you?”
Your girlfriend–– it still felt surreal to call her that, chuckled at that, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Mi vida, stop. They won’t judge you. Mami will probably try and feed you whatever she’s been cooking since this morning the second you walk through the door, and my sister will ask you a hundred questions about how we met.” You stayed silent at that, taking a moment of appreciation for the kindness and understanding that came from your lover.
“You’re overthinking. They’re going to love you. How could they not?” Alexia tilted your head back up, her eyes meeting yours. “Because I’m not… you. I don’t have the perfect career or the perfect family. What if they think I’m not good enough?”
Alexia bit her lip at that, before taking your hand and leading you back to the bedroom. She sat down on the bed, signaling you to come sit on her lap. You did, your knees on either side as you faced her again. “First of all, I’m not perfect. And second, that’s not how my family works. They don’t care about status or titles. All they care about is kindness, respect, and whether you make me happy.” The Spaniard rested her forehead against yours as she spoke.
“And do I?” “Every single day.”
As you left the bedroom together, Alexia threw another look towards you over her shoulder. “Oh, and for the record, if anyone asks you about football. The answer is always Barca.” You giggled, rolling your eyes at her words. “Noted. You’re going to owe me for this.” “Dinner with the Putellas clan is a small price to pay. Trust me.”
The apartment door clicked shut behind you, and you’re met with the cold afternoon air on a wintery Saturday in Barcelona. You pulled your jacket a little tighter around your figure, already cursing yourself for having dressed too lightly for the occasion. The streetlights cast a soft glow on the quiet neighbourhood, the orange-yellow hues bouncing off the cobblestone pavement beneath your feet. You despised Winter. Despised the cold, despised the dark mornings and dark evenings.
Alexia’s car brought you back to your senses. It’s familiar, and the way Alexia’s perfume lingers and mixes with the faint sense of leather calmed you down. The soft hum of the engine the only sound between the two of you. You couldn’t bear the silence any longer though, as if it was weighing you down with each passing minute.
“Okay, let’s set some expectations. What’s the worst thing your family could say or ask tonight?” Alexia glanced over at you, an amused smile on your face as she expertly manoeuvred the steering wheel one-handed. “Worst thing? Hmm… Mami might ask if you know how to make paella. She likes to test people on their cooking knowledge.” You scoffed nervously at her words. “Great. Let me just Google how not to butcher a classic Spanish dish before we get there.” Alexia cocked an eyebrow at you. “Relax. You could burn your toast and they’d still like you.” You didn’t respond at that, and that led to your girlfriend briefly squeezing your knee, and then resting her hand on your thigh. “I’m serious. You don’t have to impress anyone. Just… be yourself.” You looked out the window, looking at the passing cars. “I wish I had your confidence.” “You don’t need that. You have mine.”
The roads were quiet for the time of day, but there’s a faint hum of life outside. The city felt alive but not overwhelming. Alexia’s playlist waltzed through the background, the songs that remind you of your lover calming your senses once again. You noticed the way she taps her fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music, her relaxed demeanor helping you stay calm. You didn’t want to mess this up. It had been a while since Alexia had seen her family, properly, for more than a couple short moments after a game. Somehow, you hadn’t met them yet. The games you went to, they couldn’t come and vice versa. It was Alexia’s mum that insisted she brought you to the family dinner, something that on its own should’ve calmed your nerves, but the rational part of your brain was completely at the mercy of the overwhelming feeling of self-doubt.
The journey didn’t take as long as expected, traffic not nearly as bad as either of you had foreseen. Alexia’s hand was tracing soft, reassuring patterns on your thigh and your hand was on top of hers, steadling grounding yourself with her touch. Before you knew it, Alexia pulled into the driveway of her childhood home. “Oh God, I didn’t realize we were here already.” Alexia chuckled, but stayed silent for a moment. She let you come to your senses, knowing you were going to be fine, but just needed a moment to ground yourself. Your eyes searched the area, and you were overwhelmed by the sheer amount of cars that were all around the house. “Baby, how many people are here tonight?” Alexia winced at that, having forgotten to mention that it was never only close family when the Putellas’s came together. She tried to remain casual, though. “Eh, maybe like 20 people? Just a small group. It’ll be okay, amor.” You mumbled something incoherently under your breath and Alexia wished it wasn’t you cursing her out, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it as you opened your door and stepped outside.
“So, any final words?” You questioned, your hand resting on the doorbell, not quite ready to ring yet. “Smile. Be yourself. Don’t let mami overwhelm you with food.” You cocked your eyebrows at her. “Mhm, that’s a lot of pressure. What if I fail at one of those things?” Alexia pressed a kiss against your temple, mumbling her next words against your hair. “Then you’d still look cute failing.” You rolled your eyes. “Such a charmer, Alexia. I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” “Completely. But seriously, you’ve got this.” Your girlfriend took your hand in hers for a second and gave a reassuring squeeze, before she eventually rang the doorbell.
Eli’s face lit up inexplicably wide at the sight of her daughter. “Mi niña, look at you, you’re finally here.” She pulled Alexia into a tight hug first, and by Alexia’s body language, you could tell that she needed this. She practically smothered her daughter with affection, but Alexia quickly became second best the moment her eyes landed on you, her expression softening into one of pure warmth. “And you must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about!” Before you could even fully process her words, she’s wrapping you in a firm, welcoming embrace. The scent of her lavender perfume and something faintly sweet invaded your senses, and it immediately struck you as a homely feeling. Her hug lingered just long enough to feel sincere, and when she pulled back, her hands settled gently on your shoulders.
“Come in, come in! Don’t just stand out here in the cold. I’ve been so excited to meet you." Alexia watched the interaction with a fond smile, her gaze flickering between you and her mum as you stepped into the warmth of the house. It felt almost surreal. The cozy hum of voices from the living room, the inviting smell of food wafting from the kitchen. You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this; this immediate sense of belonging. You couldn’t help but glance at Alexia, a smile creeping onto your face despite your earlier nerves. She noticed, her own smile widening in response.
But as Eli ushered you both further inside, you caught a fleeting glance exchanged between Alexia and her mum. It’s quick, almost unnoticeable, but something about it tugged at the edge of your thoughts. Maybe it was the slight furrow in Eli’s brow that smoothed out too quickly, or the way Alexia’s smile dimmed just a fraction before she responded. It passed before you could think too much of it, overshadowed by Eli’s bright chatter as she guided you toward the living room. But the seed of doubt was planted, small but persistent.
The living room buzzed with warmth and chatter as Eli guided you inside. The people gathered are lively, her relatives talking over one another, kids darting around in a chaotic blur, and a general air of familiarity you can almost taste. “Come, let me introduce you,” Eli said with a bright smile, tugging you further into the room. Alexia stayed close, her hand lightly resting at your lower back, an anchor as you’re passed from one family member to the next.
First, it’s Alexia’s aunt. A lively woman with curly hair and a booming laugh, pulled you into a tight hug as though she’s known you for years. “Oh, so this is her,” she said knowingly, nudging Alexia with a grin. “You didn’t tell me how gorgeous she is.” “Tía” Alexia mumbled, her ears turning pink, but the playful reprimand only made her aunt laugh harder. “And polite, too, I bet,” the aunt added, turning to you. “Please, call me Tía Marta. Now tell me, is she as much of a neat freak at home as she was when she was a kid? She used to get mad if I folded a towel the ‘wrong way.’” Alexia groaned behind you, but you laughed, feeling a little more at ease.
Up next is Alexia’s grandmother. She was smaller than you expected, her frame delicate but her spirit vibrant. She took your hands in hers, her skin soft and warm, and looked up at you with kind, twinkling eyes. “Eres preciosa, niña,” she said softly, her voice comforting. You managed a thank you in your best Spanish, and she beamed with pride. “Her Spanish is good!” she told Alexia in Catalan, patting your hand. “Abuela,” Alexia interjected gently, translating for you with a smile. “She says you’re beautiful.” “Well, she’s beautiful too,” you responded shyly, feeling your cheeks warm under the older woman’s approving gaze.
Then suddenly, a young cousin, the boy probably no older than six, bolted toward Alexia the second he walked in, arms wide and squealing her name. Alexia catched him mid-run, spinning him around effortlessly. It struck a chord somewhere inside of you, but you weren’t ready to develop the thought yet that was simmering at the back of your mind. “Who’s this?” the little boy asked once he’s settled in Alexia’s arms, pointing at you.
“This is my... friend,” Alexia said carefully, glancing at you with a flicker of hesitation. The little boy looked at you curiously before deciding, “She’s pretty. Do you like Spiderman?” Caught off guard, you stammered, “Uh, yes? I think he’s cool.” “Good,” the cousin declared, nodding seriously. “Because I don’t like boring people.” You shared a laugh with Alexia, who shook her head fondly.
At one point a couple minutes later, an uncle, already stationed near the appetizers, offered you a small plate. “Try this,” he said, holding up a slice of jamón ibérico. “This is the best you’ll ever taste.” You accepted it, and the flavor immediately melted on your tongue. “Wow,” you exhale, impressed. He grinned, nodding approvingly. “I told you. Good taste,” he said, pointing at you before winking at Alexia. “This one’s a keeper, eh?” Alexia chuckled, shaking her head. “She hasn’t even had the croquetas yet.” “Croquetas?” you asked, curious. “Just wait,” Alexia replied, her smirk confident.
Eli stole you away then, leading you with her to the sofa. “She talks about you, you know,” she said quietly, handing you a glass of wine. You blinked in surprise. “She does?” “Every time we talk,” she said with a smile, her eyes soft as they glanced toward Alexia. “You make her happy.” Your heart swelled, and you glanced at your girlfriend across the room, who was talking to her cousin again. She must’ve felt your eyes on her because she looked back, offering a small smile that’s just for you.
But then, there was a change in the air. It was not outright hostility, not even close. But as the introductions continued– they seemed endless, there was a distinct feeling in the back of your mind that you couldn’t ignore. A couple of the older relatives asked pointed questions about your work. Questions that felt almost like challenges, though they were wrapped in polite tones. “So, what do you do exactly? Must be quite demanding, no?” You answered as best as you can, without wanting to seem too affected by the unpleasant tone you’re being spoken to.
As you were chatting with another of Alexia’s cousins, one of her aunts– not the one that welcomed you so warmly earlier, interrupted the conversation with a comment that caught you off guard. “Well, I hope you’re not one of those people who thinks dating a footballer is all glamour and fame. It’s hard work, you know.” The words are said with a faint smile, her tone almost teasing. Almost. But there’s something about the way her eyes lingered on you, as though she’s waiting to see how you’ll react. “Oh no, I wouldn’t think that at all.” You stammered, trying to laugh it off. Before you could say more, Alexia stepped in smoothly. It’s like she felt the discomfort oozing off you through the room, and she was by your side in a mere couple seconds to defuse the situation. “She’s not one of those people. Trust me.” Her aunt gave a small nod, her smile tight as she moved on to another conversation.
The exchange left you rattled, though you’re not entirely sure why. It wasn’t outright rude, but it felt like a test, one you’re not certain you passed. As the evening went on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were under a microscope. Most of the family was kind and welcoming, but a few interactions left a sour taste, small enough to make you doubt whether you’re overthinking it or not.
Your mind drifted back to the glance Alexia exchanged with her mom earlier. Was it about you? Were they worried about bringing you into this tightly-knit family dynamic? You glanced at Alexia, who was across the room now, laughing with her sister. She looked completely at ease, as though she belonged in this moment in a way you could never hope to. The doubt crept in again, insidious and unwelcome. Did you really fit into her world?
The room was alive with conversation and laughter, but your thoughts felt far too loud. You were perched at the edge of the couch, smiling politely as Eli chatted animatedly with a group of relatives nearby. Alexia caught your eye from across the room, her easy smile fading when she saw the tension in your shoulders. Excusing herself from the conversation she’s in, she made her way over to you, her movements casual so as not to draw attention. She sat next to you, her hand comfortingly placed on the small of your back. “Hey, you okay?” You take a moment, hesitating on what to tell her, because the last thing you’d want is to be a burden. “Yeah, just a bit… overwhelmed”, you eventually settled on. Her hand softly brushed against your knee and it brought you a sense of comfort. “They already love you, you know.” Her words settled over you like a warm blanket, and for a moment, you let yourself believe them. You nod, offering her a small smile. Thanks. I think I just need a minute to adjust.” Your girlfriend squeezed your knee and then stood up, moving back across the room to where she was before she came over to you.
You started to relax again, letting the hum of conversations wash over you, but then you heard it; a hushed voice from somewhere nearby, just loud enough to catch your ear. “She seems nice, but do you think she’s really with Alexia for the right reasons? I mean, it must be intimidating, dating someone like her. Maybe she just likes the idea of it.” The words hit like a gut punch. You glanced around, trying to place the speaker, and your stomach sank when you saw it’s the same cousin who’d been teasing earlier. She was speaking to another relative, who nodded slightly but didn’t add anything to the comment.
“Well, she does seem a bit… out of her depth. But Alexia must see something in her.” “Yeah, but for how long? I mean, Alexia needs someone who can handle all of this. The attention, the traveling, the pressure. Do you think she’s that kind of person?”
Your pulse quickened and your fingers tightened around your glass. It felt like the air had been knocked out of you. Why were they even talking about this? Your stomach sank further with each word. You fought the urge to stand up and defend yourself, although you weren’t quite sure you’d know what to say if you did. Were you really out of your depth?
You glanced back toward Alexia, wishing she’d somehow heard the exchange, wishing you could share the burden of what had just been said. But even if she had been closer, would you have had the courage to repeat the words? The thought of telling her felt unbearable. What if she agreed, even a little? What if, instead of reassuring you, she hesitated? You tell yourself off, firmly. It was Alexia that brought you here, Alexia that wanted you here. She wouldn’t hesitate. But before you can dwell on what you heard too much, dinner is being served and you’re all called to the living room.
The dining room was warm and inviting, with a large wooden table set for everyone. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and overlapping conversations. Alexia was seated beside you, and her presence helped calm your nerves, even though the earlier comments still lingered in your mind. You tried to focus on the moment, enjoy the evening with Alexia’s family and forget about what you overheard earlier
.“So, tell us more about yourself. Alexia mentioned you work on some pretty impressive projects.” It was Eli’s voice that pulled you out of your thoughts. You were glad that everyone seemed to be in their own conversations, only a couple relatives really listening in to what you were going to answer.
“Oh, it’s nothing too special. I mostly enjoy being behind the scenes, making sure everything runs smoothly.” You worry, overthinking every word as if the people around you would be nitpicking every single thing that you said.
“Well, Alexia couldn’t stop talking about how talented you are. She doesn’t say that about just anyone, you know.” Her words made you feel a little more at ease, but the shadow of doubt from earlier lingered.
Dinner went smoothly for the rest. Conversation flowed easily between a couple of you, the steadying presence of your girlfriend aside you doing just enough to ground you. During a lighter moment, someone shared a funny story about Alexia’s childhood.
“Did you know Alexia used to practice free kicks in the yard until she knocked over the flower pots? I think my parents banned football from the garden for a year!” The family laughs, and Alexia playfully rolls her eyes, leaning in closer to you. “Don’t believe everything they tell you.”
At some point, a little further down the evening, Alexia leans in quietly, her hand brushing against yours under the table. “You okay? You’ve been a bit quiet.” she asks softly. You force a smile, one you know she won’t believe, but it’s the best you could muster up. “I’m fine. Just taking everything in.” She didn’t push, but her eyes lingered, and you knew she was onto you. But you appreciated her for not pushing.
As the meal ends and people begin to move around, Alexia finds a quiet moment with you, sensing your unease. “You’ve been amazing tonight, you know? I can see how much they like you.” You found yourself in a quiet corner in the kitchen, and you allowed yourself to circle your arms around her neck, Alexia’s resting around your waist. “You think so? It’s just… a lot to take in.” Alexia nodded, briefly brushing her lips against your forehead. “I know it’s overwhelming, but you’re doing great. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t know you could handle it.”
-
The silence in the car was heavy, but Alexia didn't push. She glanced at you every now and then, her brows knitting together in quiet concern at the expression on your face. She decided she could do no wrong by testing the waters. “You were amazing tonight,” she said softly. You nodded with a small smile, but it was forced. You continued staring out the window, replaying the events from the night over and over again, especially the words from one of Alexia’s aunts kept on ringing in the back of your mind.
The car ride felt uneasy. It wasn’t usual for you both to be so quiet, and it almost felt awkward. You knew you weren’t doing the right thing by not telling your girlfriend what was wrong, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You felt as if, if you would recite the words that were spoken by one of her relatives, that she’d agree. That she’d realize that they were right, that you’re out of your depth and not made for someone with a schedule like hers. So you stayed silent. As much as it hurt you to ignore Alexia’s silent advances throughout the drive, whether that be a hand on your knee or a soft touch on your thigh, you didn’t dare speak up. Not if that meant you would put your relationship at risk.
When Alexia pulled into the driveway of your apartment block, you could feel the hesitation in her movements. You unbuckled your seatbelt and she did the same, but before you could reach the door handle, you felt her hand on your wrist. “Amor, wait…,” she spoke softly. You closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before leaning back against the car seat. “You did great tonight. I promise. It was everything I hoped for. I’m so glad you finally met my family and they love you. Te lo prometo.” You gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but you couldn’t help but melt in the kiss that followed. You really shouldn’t have, should’ve held your walls up, because you knew you were in for a rough night as soon as your girlfriend left. But when she kissed you with that much fervour, pouring so many unspoken words in it, you couldn’t help but be at her mercy. “Call me tomorrow?” You nodded, but you weren’t sure you would. Stepping out of her car felt like floodgates opening. The emotions hit you like a brick: insecurity, shame, and the growing belief that this relationship was a mistake.
-
You ignored Alexia’s calls the following day. You knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. After all, she didn’t do anything wrong. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, not when you felt like every new word you spoke to her would bring her closer to realizing that you weren’t enough for her. Her texts start off light, reassuring. But when she realizes that you’re not going to reply, they come with an urge.
From: Ale I hope you’re feeling better today, amor. Let me know when you’re free?
From: Ale Hey, I’m getting worried. Are you okay?
From: Ale Please talk to me. Did something happen?
You read them but couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Each message felt like a dagger, reminding you of what you’re running from.
As the day dragged on, the insecurities became louder. What if you’re just another thing for her to take care of? You’re nothing compared to the people she’s surrounded with on a day-to-day basis. Her teammates, her family, they’re all… extraordinary. Alexia deserves someone who fits into her world effortlessly. Not someone who feels like they’re constantly falling short.
You started analyzing every moment with Alexia, wondering if you’ve been blind to signs that this was doomed from the start. You were not made for this world. Not made for her. So you did the thing that you thought was best for you, best for her, you decided not to reply to anything she sent you. She’d get over it, she had so many other things on her mind that she probably wouldn’t even think twice. You’d get over it too, eventually. At some point. Probably. Maybe.
But God, were you wrong. On the other side of Barcelona, your girlfriend was miserable. She had sensed something was off since the evening before, but she didn’t want to pry, knowing that usually didn’t help her case in trying to get anything out of you. But now, as the afternoon bled into evening and she still hadn’t heard from you, prying was the only thing she wished she did. As far as she knew, things had gone quite well with her family. There wasn’t anything that she could remember that would warrant such a response from you, so she felt like her hands were tied in what to do.
She wanted nothing more than things to work out with you. She hadn’t felt like she felt about you in ages. You got her, you understood her, and she was so incredibly grateful for you. You were like a breath of fresh air in her clouded, busy life. So when she didn’t hear from you for a day, Alexia curled up into herself. She was worried, insecure, in her head and making up all kinds of scenarios that were way too obscure, but she couldn’t help thinking them anyway. What if you didn’t want her anymore after meeting her family? Was it not what you expected? Did someone tell you something about her that struck a wrong chord?
Despite the overwhelming thoughts that clouded her mind, Alexia manages to get out of her sofa that evening and try a different approach to get you back.
-
It’s well past 9pm when you receive a voicemail from Alexia, and you can’t help but listen to it. The prospect of hearing her voice was too good to turn down.
“Hola, mi vida. I don’t know what’s bothering you, but please talk to me. We’re a team, you know? You and I. Just the two of us. Let me in and we’ll work out what’s on your mind. And, check your front door for me. Te amo. So much.”
You hadn’t realized tears had welled up in your eyes at the sound of her voice, until one was rolling over your cheek. You quickly wiped it away, not ready to be vulnerable about this yet. Not when she was being so sweet. You mustered up the courage to get out of bed, walking the way up to the front door of your apartment. You checked the peephole, but nobody was there. You opened the door and spotted a bright bouquet of red and white roses on the ground, accompanied with a little envelope. Your first thought was about how Alexia had gotten into your building, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that right now. You picked up the flowers and smelled them, a faint hint of her perfume mixing with the fresh scent of the roses. It hit you hard then, another few tears escaping your eyes.
The letter that came with, was even sweeter. It wasn’t much, not a love letter by any means, but just a small couple reminders of how much she loved you. That she was proud of you. That she couldn’t wait to see you again and hear your voice. It only felt more guilt rise up in you. How could you treat this woman, who clearly loved you to the moon and back, so poorly? But the guilt wasn’t enough to overshadow the insecurities. At least, not yet.
-
The office was dimly lit, the desk cluttered with blueprints, pencils, and a cold coffee cup that you’re not sure you even took a sip from. When things got rough, work is where you turned to in life. Work didn’t make you insecure. Work didn’t make you doubt yourself. It was always there. Steady. A pillar of strength that would never disappoint you. You weren’t the only one who knew that, though. As long as it took you to open up about your professional life to a certain blonde, she now knew everything about the ins and outs of your life as an interior architect. She too, knew that this was where you retreated when things weren’t going your way. To experience some sort of stability. To make you feel like even though everything else around you was crumbling, you still had this. The hum of the building and the outside traffic was the only sound until the door swung open abruptly, startling you.
Alexia walked in, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. She looked out of place here, her casual sweater and jeans standing stark against the sterile, professional backdrop. She didn’t speak right away, just stood there, her gaze fixed on you. The silence felt suffocating. You haven’t turned around yet, but the mere presence of the person gave away who it was.
“I knew you’d be here,” she started with. “You shouldn’t have come.” You had turned around on your seat now, but were still avoiding her gaze. As much as you wanted to look at her, take her in, because you missed her, missed her more than you could put into words, you didn’t. Because then it would take approximately 3 seconds for you to give up the facade that you’d been putting on, and you weren’t ready for that. Not when you weren’t good enough for her. She stepped closer. “What else was I supposed to do, huh? You’ve been ignoring me for almost 2 days. I’ve been losing my mind wondering what I did wrong.”
There was a sense of hostility in her voice, and you didn’t like it. But, you guess you deserved it. You finally met her gaze then, and if it weren’t for the bags underneath her eyes and the concerned look on her face, you really would’ve thought she was angry at you. You stood up from your desk, taking a couple tentative steps toward her and crossing your arms over your chest. “You didn’t do anything, Alexia. This is on me.” You knew it was weak, and not good enough. But you couldn’t give her much more than that. “That’s not good enough. I deserve more than silence, don’t you think?”
Your throat is tightening, but you try your best not to let it sound in your voice. “I needed time to think.” “Time to think about what, y/n? If you even want to be with me?” You frowned then, looking up at her. You didn’t know it had cut so deep with her. It’d only been a day and a half, and you hadn't given her any clues on what this could be about, so for her to have made this assumption took you aback. It’s not what you wanted, or… maybe it was? It was best for the both of you, either way.
You decided at that moment it was best for you to open up, to relieve some of the tension for the woman standing in front of you. “I’m not good for you, Alexia. Can’t you see that? Your cousin, your family, they see it. And they’re right.” The Spaniard’s face hardens at that, her brows knitting together. ““I don’t belong in your world. I don’t know how to fit into it, and honestly, I don’t think I ever will. You deserve someone who can stand next to you without feeling like they’re constantly falling short.”
Alexia closes the distance between you, and you can feel her breath against your face as she speaks. “That’s bullshit, and you know it! You think I care what anyone else thinks? My family? My cousin? Do you think I’d be here right now, chasing after you, if I thought you weren’t good enough for me?” You interrupt her, but it’s a futile attempt. “No, you don’t understand-” “You don’t understand! I chose you! I want you! Why is that so hard for you to believe?”
It’s like someone opened up a can of bottled feelings within Alexia. You’d voiced it many times to her that you thought you weren’t good enough for her, and each time she’d patiently coaxed you back to her, melting your insecurities away with whispered promises and lingering kisses. What you didn’t know is that it had also taken an effect on her. She just wanted you to believe her, to be happy with her, to stop thinking that you weren’t what she wanted or deserved.
“Because I’m scared, Alexia! I’m scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize they were right. That I’m just this… nobody who got lucky. That I’ll never be enough for you.” Alexia’s expression softens slightly, but her frustration remains. She runs a hand through her hair and takes a deep breath, her voice quieter but still firm. ““You’re enough for me. You’re more than enough. But I can’t keep fighting to convince you of that if you’re not willing to believe it yourself.”
The words hit you like a dagger. Of all the ways the conversation could go, you hadn’t expected that. And it only further confirmed your thoughts. Alexia was realizing that this wasn’t what she wanted. “Maybe I’m doing this for you, Alexia. Maybe you’ll thank me someday.” Alexia’s voice was sharp as she replied. “Don’t you dare make this decision for me.” You flinch, but remain silent.
She steps back then, running her hands across her face. “I don’t know what else to say to you right now.” Her eyes linger on your figure a little longer, but then she’s gone. The sound of the door falling shut feels deafening, and you finally let the tears flow that you’d been holding in throughout the conversation. Argument? You didn’t know and you weren’t sure if you wanted to.
As she storms out of the studio, the cool night air hits her like a wall. Her chest feels tight, and her hands tremble slightly as she fumbles to unlock her car. She hesitates for a moment, gripping the door handle, debating whether to turn back. But the ache in her heart makes it hard to think clearly, and she sinks into the driver’s seat, resting her forehead against the steering wheel.
She didn’t know how it could’ve escalated this quick. For her, the meeting with her family went well. Of course, there was the odd comment, but she didn’t think it was major enough to cause an upset like this. It seemed like, in one day, you’d built a wall so high that she couldn’t reach you anymore.
She bites her lip, trying to keep the tears from falling, but a few slip out anyway. She feels a mix of anger, heartbreak and guilt, but above all that she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be feeling. She drives around aimlessly, not ready to drive home. Before long, Alexia realizes that she didn’t handle the argument in the right way. Instead of calming you down, she yelled, too lost in trying to make you see what she sees. By the time she finally gets home, she’s emotionally drained. She sits at her kitchen table, the undeniable sting from the unanswered calls and texts still there. Alexia had never felt this way about anyone, ever before in her life. And she wasn’t going to let you walk away because of some stupid comment or your own doubts. You were hers, and she was going to remind you of that even if it took everything she had.
Alexia starts her plan to get you back the next day. She comes to terms that barging into the studio again wouldn’t make it better, so she starts with something simple. She drives to your place and slides a little handwritten note under the door, a small one that says, “I love you. No matter what they say, no matter what you think. You are everything to me. Please, let me prove it. A.” She also sends flowers to your workplace, a bouquet of your favourite flowers with a little note attached to it, “You’re the only one I see.” She’s patient, very patient, but when she hasn’t heard anything from you by the evening, she starts pacing around her apartment.
She had done quite well at keeping busy throughout the day. After quickly dropping off the note, she went to training and was able to keep her mind off the situation for a couple hours. But when she came home, deep in the afternoon, and she couldn’t even get her post-training nap in because she was thinking about you, she knew she wasn’t gonna get anywhere.
Her fingers hover over your contact, but the prospect of rejection makes her hesitate. She lingers, but eventually decides it’s best not to. She was gonna let you come to her. And you did. The next morning, somehow you’d remembered that today was a day off for Alexia. She was sat at the kitchen table, sipping on her daily cup of coffee while scrolling through her phone. The doorbell startled her, not really expecting anyone at this time of day, especially not when she was still wearing her pajamas. But when she looks through the peephole, noticing your figure on the other side of the door, her heart skips a beat. She scrambles to unlock the door and open it for you, but when her eyes land on you it feels like all is right in the world. She has to refrain herself from throwing her into your arms, knowing that wouldn’t be the right thing to do right now. She gives you a small smile, one you return, and the warmth that spreads through her chest at the little gesture is unimaginable. She steps aside then, letting you inside of her apartment.
It doesn’t take long for Alexia to crack. She makes you a coffee and joins you on the sofa, and you had planned to start the conversation, but she didn’t let you. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice cracking slightly. “For yelling, for walking out, for everything. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look down, nodding, fiddling with your hands. “I… I wasn’t trying to push you away, Alexia. I just-” “You’re scared,” she interrupts, and a relief washes over you at the realization that she understands your feelings. “And I get that. But, please, I need you to talk to me, not shut me out.”
There’s a couple moments of silence, and you readjust your position on the couch, your knees now flush to your chest with your arms wrapped around them. It was the only way to stop yourself from curling into her. You wouldn’t get to say what you wanted if you did. “It’s not just fear,” you admit. “It’s everything. What your cousin said, it wasn’t just about me. It was about us. Like I don’t belong in your world. Like- Like I’m just… some fling that you’ll outgrow.”
Alexia’s face hardens, jaw tightening and she reaches a hand out, but quickly retreats. “Don’t let them get to you, por favor. She doesn’t know anything about us, about you.” “But what if she’s right?” You whisper, your voice trembling. “What if I’m not enough? For you, for your family, for-” Alexia does follow through with her hand then, placing it on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze. “Stop.” Her voice is firm but not harsh, cutting through your spiraling thoughts. “You are enough. You are everything.” Your eyes meet hers, and you’re looking for anything that gives away she’s not speaking the truth. That she doesn’t mean this, that she’s just saying this out of pity. But you can’t find it. The only thing you find is a couple unshed tears, showing just how much emotion she’s pouring into this moment. “Do you know how much I love you? How much I admire you? Your kindness, strength, the way you light up any room without even trying. You’re the only one I want.” You go to speak up, but she lifts her hand in protest.
“What someone else thinks, whether it’s my family, my friends or anyone, doesn’t matter to me. You matter. You make me happy, and that’s all I care about. And if my cousin, or anyone else has a problem with that, they’ll have to say that to my face. And not behind your or my back.” Alexia straightens slightly, retreating her hand from your knee and placing them in her lap. “But I know I didn’t handle this right, and I’m sorry for that too,” she says earnestly. “I shouldn’t have lashed out. I was frustrated because I hate seeing you doubt yourself, especially when you’re so good to me, so good for me. I want to be better for you, better for us. But you need to let me in.”
You swallow hard, her words from the last couple minutes sinking in. You couldn’t believe how you deserved the woman sitting in front of you right now. So good, so honest, and all she wanted was you. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to hurt you, or… seem weak, I guess.” Alexia shakes her head, her gaze soft. “You’re not weak. And you’re never going to hurt me by telling me how you feel. We’re a team, remember? On the same side, mi amor.” The pet name sends a wave of warmth through you that you only now realize you missed terribly. “Besides,” she adds, her tone lighter now, “if our relationship has had to endure all the teasing from my teammates and the comments from fans, I’m sure we can handle a little communication hiccup.”
You laugh softly, and Alexia grins, relief washing over her. “There it is,” she says, her thumb brushing a tear off your cheek that you didn’t even know was there. “There’s my girl.” You let out a shaky breath, the weight on your chest lifting ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, too. For shutting you out. I’ll try to do better.” Alexia leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure it out together.”
As the tension melts away, Alexia pulls you up, wrapping her arms tightly around you. The warmth of her embrace makes the world outside. She tilts her head to rest against yours, her voice soft as she speaks. “You’re never allowed to disappear like that again,” Alexia murmurs, her lips brushing against your temple. “Do you know how much I missed you? Two days felt like two years.” You nestle further into her, your arms circling her waist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just needed space to think. But it wasn’t worth it. Being without you felt awful. I just kept convincing myself that you were better off without me and vice versa, but I know that’s not true.”
Alexia pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. Her thumb brushes gently over your cheek as she smiles, her expression soft. “You don’t have to run away to think, cariño. Just come to me, and we’ll figure it out together. Always.”
The weight of the past days begins to fade away as Alexia leans down and brushes her lips lightly against your forehead. Then your nose. Then your cheek. Each kiss feels like a promise, her way to say that everything’s going to be okay. “Stop,” you say, giggling softly, though you don’t actually want her to stop. “You’re making it impossible to stay mad at myself.” “Good,” Alexia says with a smirk, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your back. “Because I’m not done making it up to you yet.”
She shifts, sitting back down on the couch and pulling you into her lap. You hesitate for a moment, but her arms tighten around your waist, grounding you. “This okay?” she asks softly, her lips brushing your ear. You nod, melting into her touch. “More than okay.” Her hands trail up and down your back in soothing strokes as you rest your head on her shoulder. The two of you sit like that for a while, in silence, before you take a nap together on the couch. As you lay in her arms, you know that that’s where you’re supposed to be. And you’re gonna battle every single one of your insecurities that tells you differently.
#woso#woso community#woso x reader#woso imagine#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#barca femení x reader#barca
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CROSSING THE LINE — PART SIX ♡
paige x azzi
warning: explicit language, sexual content
word count: 11.3k
A/N: Alright so this is long as hell 😭. Like I was saying earlier the spicy scene is a little detailed so be prepared for that. If you recognize the outfits I mentioned for their date you know they both looked good as hell in them lol. The comments and live reactions everyone leaves after they read makes my day so please keep it up!
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December 2023
Paige and Azzi had spent the last few weeks navigating the complexities of their new dynamic. It wasn’t exactly a smooth transition, but it wasn’t a complete disaster either. Their conversations, jokes, and banter came back effortlessly, as though no time had passed. But, now there was an added layer of tension in each interaction that they both struggled to ignore.
They had crossed the line, and the memory of it lingered on both of their minds constantly. Laying in one another’s beds all the time or sharing a quick or playful touch carried a tension that hadn’t been there before Halloween. So they were both trying to find their footing in this uncharted territory.
Despite the fact that they both clearly wanted to go there again, they agreed they needed to take time to fully trust one another and build their foundation before jumping into something. Paige had to learn to trust that Azzi wasn’t going to just up and leave, she had to learn how to allow herself to be with someone. Azzi had to trust that Paige was genuinely in it for the long haul, not the old Paige who would get bored and discard her like a fleeting hookup. The agreement seemed reasonable, even necessary. But despite their best intentions, they found themselves slipping up all the time.
One of the first times happened after practice. They were lounging casually in Paige’s room, a routine born out of habit and comfort because Paige swore her bed was more comfortable. Azzi’s leg was thrown over Paige’s as Paige sat up, massaging out the lingering soreness from the last road game. Azzi’s old injury from her time at UMD still had a way of acting up sometimes, and Paige, being a good ‘teammate,’ insisted on helping every time.
“I still don’t get how this keeps happening,” Paige said, pressing her thumbs into the muscle just above Azzi’s knee. Her brow slightly furrowed in concentration as she continued to apply firm pressure. “You’ve been so good with your recovery lately.”
Azzi shrugged lightly, her head resting back against the headboard. “Guess my body didn’t get the memo about the long plane ride.”
Paige huffed a small laugh. “Well, lucky for you, I’m basically a pro at this now.” Her hands worked skillfully over Azzi’s leg, her fingers kneading the muscle with a mix of care and precision.
Azzi let out a quiet hum of appreciation. “Mm. You are really good at this.”
Paige smirked, her eyes flicking up to meet Azzi’s briefly. “I’m just good with my hands,” she replied smoothly, her tone teasing but carrying a hint of pride.
Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Yeah trust me I remember.”
The words lingered between them, heavy just as Azzi intended. Paige kept her focus on Azzi’s leg, but the silence spoke volumes, the air between them a little thick with tension.
Azzi broke it first, her voice soft but pointed. “You tense up every time I hint at us having sex, you know.”
Paige blinked, her hands faltering for a moment before continuing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said, feigning confusion.
Azzi’s gaze stayed steady. “You know what I’m talking about.” Her tone was light, but there was a seriousness beneath it.
Paige swallowed hard, her hands resuming their work as she focused intently on Azzi’s knee which was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “You’re imagining things,” she muttered. “Maybe one of those dreams of yours was too detailed Az.”
Azzi chuckled softly, tilting her head to the side as she studied Paige. “Am I?” she asked, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “Because I seem to remember you were very, very thorough.”
Paige, usually brimming with confidence that bordered on cocky, faltered slightly, her usual composure slipping. “You’re insane,” she muttered, shaking her head, though a faint flush crept up her neck.
Azzi’s lips curved into a smirk as she leaned back against the headboard, completely at ease. “Right. My mistake,” she said smoothly, her eyes locking with Paige’s deliberately. Her voice dropped slightly, taking on a warmth that sent a shiver down Paige’s spine. “But seriously though, don’t stop. It feels so good.”
Clearing her throat, Paige tried to play it off. “You’re crazy,” she muttered, focusing her attention back on Azzi’s knee.
“You started it,” Azzi countered, her voice light but tinged with something Paige couldn’t place.
Paige let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Fair enough.” She adjusted her grip, her thumbs pressing into a particularly tight spot.
The sound that escaped Azzi was too close to something Paige had heard in an entirely different context. The sound sent a jolt through her, and she froze for a moment, her hands stilling against Azzi’s leg.
Paige glanced up, her pupils now slightly dilated as her eyes locked onto Azzi’s. The look Azzi gave her was steady, unflinching, but there was something in it that made Paige’s pulse quicken. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, and quickly looked away.
“I, uh… I need water,” Paige mumbled, already shifting Azzi’s leg to stand.
Before she could move, Azzi’s hand reached out, wrapping gently around her wrist. “Wait,” Azzi said softly, her tone was calm but insistent.
Paige hesitated, her gaze flicking to where Azzi’s fingers held her. She could feel the warmth of Azzi’s touch, the quiet undeniable firmness in the gesture. Slowly, Paige looked back at her, her expression slightly guarded.
“Azzi…” Paige said, her voice low, her tone almost a warning.
Azzi didn’t let go. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studied Paige’s face. “Why do you keep doing that?”
“Doing what?” Paige asked, the slight waver in her voice betraying her.
“Run,” Azzi said simply, her voice steady but laced with meaning. “Every time things get… interesting…you find an excuse to leave.”
Paige blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “I’m not running,” she protested weakly, though even she didn’t believe the words.
Azzi raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Then stay.”
The challenge in Azzi’s voice was clear, and it made Paige’s stomach flip. She opened her mouth to respond but found she didn’t have the words.
Azzi’s grip on her wrist tightened slightly, enough to pull Paige forward, closer to her on the bed. Paige could see the resolve in her eyes, the quiet determination that didn’t really leave room for disagreement. Then, without warning, Azzi tugged her closer, closing the distance between them. The moment their lips touched everything seemed to pause. A stillness that made Paige’s heart skip before it began racing.
So Paige froze at first, her mind running a dozen directions and a dozen scenarios, but then Azzi’s arms wrapped around her neck, tugging her deeper into the kiss as her hands wrapped softly around the nape of her neck. It wasn’t rushed, but it was intense, as if Azzi was pulling her into something that didn’t allow for hesitation. Paige felt the tension in her chest begin to loosen, the heat spreading as instinct took over and her free hand found its way to Azzi’s cheek as she deepened the kiss.
For a moment, everything else fell away—the doubts, the fears, all the questions. All that mattered was the way Azzi’s lips felt against hers, the way their bodies seemed to gravitate towards one another so naturally.
But as their bodies pressed closer and the kiss deepend, something in Paige stirred, so she broke the kiss softly pulling back just enough to catch her breath much to Azzi’s protest.
Paige’s voice was barely a whisper as she murmured, “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Azzi tilted her head slightly, eyes searching Paige's face. “Why not?”
Paige shook her head, feeling the way her mind was racing. “We’re not ready yet Az.”
Azzi furrowed her brow. “Why can’t we just let things happen naturally? We’re in a good place, aren’t we? I’m fine, P I promise.”
Without a word, Paige reached over and unlocked her phone and passed it to Azzi. She watched her closely, her expression softening.
Azzi took the phone, her eyes reflecting her confusion. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Go through it,” Paige urged, her voice soft yet insistent.
Azzi hesitated, a knot of doubt forming in her stomach; she wasn’t sure she wanted to see what was behind that request although part of her knew it was absolutely nothing. “I don’t know, Paige…”
Paige’s tone softened, almost pleading. “I swear, there’s nothing in there. It's just... I need you to trust me and see for yourself.”
Azzi sighed, fighting the anxiety that bubbled inside her. Paige was constantly reassuring her, but part of her still feared what she might find. So with a resigned sigh, Azzi locked the phone again and tossed it gently back to Paige.
“I don’t need to see it, Paige,” Azzi muttered, her voice strained.
Paige's now softly pointing out, “You can’t even go through my phone without being scared, Az. We’re not ready, and I want us to be ready before we go there again.”
Azzi’s eyes dropped to her hands, fingers nervously playing with each other. A wave of sadness washed over her, guilt twisting in her chest. She felt torn—wanting to trust Paige, but something in her held back, unsure, afraid of what she might find. A mix of emotions swirled through her brain making it hard to breathe for a moment.
Paige, sensing the internal struggle, moved closer. She gently grabbed Azzi's jaw, lifting her head until their eyes met. Her voice was soft but firm, the sincerity clear in every word. “It’s okay. We’ll get there. We just need a little more time.”
Azzi nodded silently, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. Paige smiled, her touch gentle as she settled back into her previous position, resuming the soothing massage on Azzi’s knee as the energy in the room slowly shifted back to normal.
…
Then there was today, a few weeks later Paige was leaning casually against the wall waiting for Azzi to get out of class, her backpack slung over one shoulder as she chatted with a girl Azzi didn’t recognize. Azzi was walking toward her, her pace slowing slightly as she took in the sight. Paige’s easy smile, the way she gestured animatedly, and the way the girl was giving Paige her undivided attention—all of it caused something to simmer in Azzi’s chest.
But Azzi didn’t let it show. She schooled her expression into neutrality as she approached, stopping just short of Paige. Paige caught sight of her and broke into a huge smile, her face lighting up effortlessly.
“Hey Azzi” Paige said, her voice casual as she turned to the girl. “Thank you, I appreciate the support!”
The girl nodded, her gaze lingering on Paige for just a second too long before walking away. Azzi’s eyes followed her briefly, her jaw tightening.
As they made their way to Paige’s car, she threw her arm around Azzi’s shoulders the way she always did now when they were walking but the walk was silent. To Paige, it was a comfortable kind of silence, one she didn’t think twice about. For Azzi, it was anything but.
By the time they arrived at their empty suite, Azzi’s frustration had bubbled to the surface at Paige not saying anything. She shut the door behind her with a little more force than necessary and turned to Paige.
“Who was that?” Azzi asked, her tone clipped.
Paige blinked, confused as these were the first words Azzi was saying to her. “Who was who?”
Azzi crossed her arms. “The girl you were talking to.”
Paige shrugged, her expression indifferent. “I don’t know. Some random fan asking about our next game.”
Azzi scoffed, her expression tightening. “A fan, huh? Right. Because you’re always just casually talking to fans.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Paige asked, her confusion evident
Azzi’s voice was sharp, but quieter now, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to say it out loud. “It means I’ve seen how you are with people, Paige. I know how easy it is for you to flirt without even realizing it.”
Paige groaned, throwing her hands up. “Azzi, come on. She was literally asking about the next game. I wasn’t flirting with her.”
Azzi muttered something under her breath, something Paige couldn’t quite catch.
“What?” Paige asked again, her voice growing slightly.
Azzi let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe you weren’t trying to. But she didn’t look like she was asking about the game, Paige.”
Paige huffed, her frustration mounting. “I don’t get it. I didn’t do anything wrong, and you’re acting like I cheated or something!”
Azzi’s jaw clenched, and her voice dropped even further. “I’m not saying that. But it’s hard not to wonder sometimes… to wonder if maybe you’re getting bored.”
Paige froze, her eyebrows knitting together. “Bored? Azzi, what are you talking about?”
Azzi’s gaze fell, and her voice softened, no longer sharp but tinged with vulnerability. “We just haven’t defined anything. And we haven’t… you know… since that first time. I just—sometimes I don’t know where we stand, Paige and I don’t know if us trying to figure this out is enough for you. If us waiting is boring to you.”
Paige blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift. Her frustration tangled with guilt, but she couldn’t find the words to make Azzi feel better. “Azzi…”
Azzi stepped back slightly.. “You’re so used to being wanted by everyone and getting what you want whenever you want it. It’s not like I don’t know that. I just..waiting is a little frustrating and—” She cut herself off, exhaling sharply. “Forget it.”
“Forget it?” Paige repeated, her voice rising slightly. “No, Azzi, don’t do that. Don’t act like this is just on me. I’m here, aren’t I? I’m literally here with you.”
Azzi shook her head, her tone weary now. “I don’t want to argue with you, Paige. Not about this right now, I was just being jealous it’s stupid.”
She turned and started toward her room, but Paige followed her. “No, wait. Don’t walk away.”
Azzi stopped just inside her room, bending over to grab something from her desk. Without looking back, she said lightly, “Seriously, Paige, I don’t want to do this right now. We can talk later.”
Paige’s frustration was boiling over. She hated the weight in Azzi’s voice, hated how the words stuck in her own throat. She didn’t know how to explain herself, how to make Azzi see that there was nothing else—no one else—that mattered to her. That waiting for Azzi didn’t bother her.
Before she could think twice about it, Paige crossed the room in two quick strides. Without hesitation she grabbed Azi’s arm, softly spinning her around. Before either of them could speak, Paige’s lips crashed against Azzi’s. The kiss was full of frustration, need, and every unspoken word between them.
For a moment, Azzi froze, caught off guard, but then her body melted into Paige’s. Her hands clenching the fabric of Paige’s shirt pulling her closer as she kissed her back with just as much intensity. The argument dissolved between them, replaced by something much more raw.
Paige pulled Azzi backwards, guiding her with each step. Their lips never parted, each kiss growing deeper and more desperate as each of them let out their frustration at their situation. Paige barely registered the edge of the bed hitting the back of her knees before she fell onto it, Azzi following instantly. Azzi straddled her, her hands gripping Paige’s shirt tightly as their mouths locked in a rhythm that burned away their anger and replaced it with pure desire.
Paige groaned into Azzi’s mouth as Azzi rolled her hips into Paige’s pressing their bodies closer, the kiss growing heavier with every second. Paige’s hands instinctively wrapped firmly around Azz’s waist, trying to steady herself but pull Azzi closer at the same time. The touch seemed to encourage Azzi who broke from Paige’s lips and began trailing urgent kisses down her neck.
Paige’s breath hitched, her head tilting back as a shiver ran through her. “Fuck Azzi–” she whispered, her voice caught between a desperate plea and a low moan.
At the sound of this Azzi froze. Her lips hovered over Paige’s skin, the weight of the moment crashing down on her. Slowly Azzi pulled back, her breathing uneven as she propped herself up slightly with a hand on Paige’s chest, her dark eyes clouded with something indecipherable.
Paige lay beneath her, her blue eyes dark with pure desire but also something softer—a quiet vulnerability that tugged at Azzi’s chest, that made Azzi want to just say forget it. But Azzi sighed, pressing the bridge of her nose between her fingers before climbing off of Paige entirely.
The abruptness of the movement made Paige sit up on her elbows, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Azzi,” she started, her voice hesitant, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Azzi shook her head, cutting her off gently. “You don’t need to apologize.”
Paige watched her closely, but her heart clenched when she saw Azzi grab her gym bag. A sudden panic flared within her. Paige scrambled to her feet, her voice pitching higher. “Where are you going?”
Azzi slung the bag over her shoulder, glancing at Paige with a calmness that didn’t match the rising tension in Paige’s chest. “I’m going to the gym.”
Paige’s stomach twisted. Azzi’s response was completely rational, but it didn’t stop the surge of panic that overtook her. She stepped forward, her voice shaky. “Azzi, wait. Please don’t go.”
Azzi’s expression softened already knowing what was going through Paige’s head. “Paige—”
“I’m sorry,” Paige interrupted, her words tumbling out. “I didn’t mean to push—I don’t know why I did that. Just, don’t go. Please.”
Azzi exhaled, the weight of Paige’s fear pressing down on her. “You don’t need to apologize,” she said softly, stepping closer, her voice dripping with warmth. “It’s not what you think. I’m not leaving. I just need to clear my head, okay?
But Paige’s unease was written all over her face. Her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears, her lips parted as if to plead further. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But you’re walking out. You’re just…leaving. And what if–”
Azzi sighed again, cutting her off gently but firmly, before dropping her bag and stepping forward grabbing Paige’s hand. She led her to sit down on the edge of the bed. Azzi knelt in front of her, placing her hands gently on Paige’s knees.
“Paige,” she started, her voice firm but tender. Paige tried to interrupt, shaking her head, but Azzi caught her face in her hands, making her look directly at her.
“Listen to me,” Azzi said, her voice steady. “I’m not leaving. Baby, I promise you, I’m not leaving you.”
Paige’s breath hitched, the emotions swirling in her chest almost too much to bear. “But you’re going to the gym,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “And I–I don’t know, it feels like…like you’re leaving because I messed up, and I–”
“Hey. I’m just going to the gym,” Azzi cut in gently, her thumbs brushing over Paige’s cheeks. “You didn’t mess up. This isn’t about that. We were arguing about something that doesn’t even matter, and I just need a little time to clear my head. That’s all. I don’t want to fight with you, and I don’t want this to spiral. We both just need a little time to settle and calm down.”
Paige blinked, her mind beginning to grasp Azzi’s words. Slowly, she nodded, the realization dawning on her as her breathing steadied. “You promise?”
Azzi smiled softly, letting her hands linger on Paige’s cheeks for a moment whispering “I promise P,” before she pulled back. She slowly stood and grabbed her phone and gym bag again, heading toward the door. But as she reached the threshold, she glanced back at Paige, noticing the way her mind still seemed to race, her unease still faintly visible.
Azzi hesitated for a moment before walking back to her. She bent down in front of Paige again, her brown eyes warm as they met Paige’s. “Paige I promise you I’ll be back. I was being irrational and I just need a little time to think baby.”
Paige nodded again, her lips quirking into the faintest smile at the word ‘baby.’
Then, Azzi leaned in and kissed Paige—softly, gently, with a tenderness that melted away the last of Paige’s fears.
When Azzi pulled back, Paige managed a small smile, her chest feeling a little lighter. “Okay,” she whispered.
Azzi gave her one last reassuring look before standing and heading out, the door clicking softly behind her. This time, when Azzi walked out, Paige didn’t panic. She sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers brushing her lips as she continued to smile faintly. Her heart settled as her mind finally began to quiet.
Later that night, Azzi returned to the suite with a steaming bag of Noodles & Company and a shirley temple. The soft glow from the TV lit up Paige’s face as she sat with her legs spread on the couch, her headset slightly askew as she focused on her game of Fortnite yelling about who knows what. When Paige looked up and saw Azzi standing there, her smile was radiant—so pure and full of warmth that Azzi swore she’d never forget it as it made her heart skip a beat.
“I’m back,” Azzi said softly, holding up the food.
Ice, sprawled on the armchair groaned dramatically, flicking a chip at Azzi. “I see how it is–bring noodles for Paige but nothing for me. Your favorite child”
Azzi laughed, her eyes never leaving Paige. “You can have what I got for myself,” she teased, handing Ice the bottle of water with a smirk.
Ice rolled her eyes. “You’re such a simp.”
Paige chuckled at that, but Azzi didn’t care. With a soft smile, she walked over and plucked Paige’s headset off her head.
“Hey!” Paige protested, reaching for it, but Azzi was already tugging her to her feet.
“Time to take a break,” Azzi said, her voice playful but firm.
“One more game,” Paige whined, her lips jutting into a pout.
Azzi shook her head, laughing. “Nope. My room. Now.”
Paige huffed but followed Azzi willingly, shooting a teasing glance at Ice, who muttered something about third-wheeling and how they never feed their child as they disappeared into Azzi’s room.
Once inside, Azzi set the food on her desk, but Paige crossed her arms, staring her down. “You’re eating some of this,” she insisted.
Azzi raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I brought it for you, you know.”
“And I’m sharing it with you,” Paige said, already opening the box and poking around with a fork. “Sit.”
Azzi chuckled, stepping back and sitting on the bed, leaning back against the pillows with a grin. Paige sat on the bed beside her, the container of noodles in her hand. She held out a forkful of noodles, her gaze locked on Azzi’s as she leaned in a little closer.
“Really?” Azzi asked, amusement flickering in her eyes.
“Really,” Paige replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Azzi sighed but leaned forward, letting Paige feed her. They laughed as Paige made a show of wiping a stray noodle from Azzi’s chin, her touch lingering just a second too long.
Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You’re not being subtle, you know.”
Paige grinned, giving her a playful shrug. “I’m just making sure you don’t go hungry.”
Azzi laughed softly, her hand brushing over Paige’s, lingering just for a second. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might start getting other ideas about where this night is going.”
Paige's smile widened, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. “Oh, trust me, there’s plenty more where that came from. ”
This statement makes Azzi raise her eyebrow at the blonde sitting in front of her.
Paige just laughs, shaking her head as she takes a bite of her food. “Get your head out of the gutter, we’re watching Kyrie highlights.”
This immediately makes Azzi groan.
They continued eating as the quiet settled around them, neither of them noticing how natural it all felt—how their earlier tension had dissolved into something lighter, softer.
As Paige scooped up another bite of noodles and tried to offer it to her, Azzi caught her wrist gently, stopping her. Paige looked at her, confused.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Azzi said softly, her brown eyes filled with admiration.
Paige’s cheeks flushed, her lips twitching into a shy smile. “I think you’re pretty amazing too.”
Azzi leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Paige’s cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”
Paige shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “You deserve the world, Azzi.”
They continued eating, sharing the container of noodles as a comfortable quiet settled between them. Every now and then, Paige would sneak a bite in Azzi’s direction, insisting she eat more despite Azzi’s protests. Paige was adamant, though, grinning as she held out another forkful until Azzi rolled her eyes and relented, letting out a playful sigh of defeat.
When Paige reached for her shirley temple, Azzi playfully made a grab for it, earning a sharp glare and a dramatic clutch of the cup from Paige. “Don’t even think about it this is where I draw the line,” Paige warned, her tone light but firm, causing Azzi to laugh, her head shaking at Paige’s possessiveness over the drink.
The quiet moments stretched between them, filled with warmth and contentment. As Paige leaned back against the headboard, her mind felt unusually calm. The endless worries, the fears that usually gnawed at her, were nowhere to be found. Azzi’s presence anchored her—a steady, quiet reassurance she hadn’t realized she’d needed until now.
Azzi, meanwhile, watched Paige smile and laugh, her heart swelling with an emotion she hadn’t fully allowed herself to feel until now. She could see it in the way Paige looked at her, in the easy way Paige seemed to settle into their shared space. Paige being at home waiting for her. This wasn’t fleeting; it wasn’t temporary. Paige wasn’t going anywhere.
As Paige set the empty container aside, she leaned back against the headboard, a thoughtful look crossing her face. Out of nowhere, she broke the silence. “Let me take you on a date,” she said, her voice casual, as if she were suggesting they go for a walk.
Azzi blinked, slightly caught off guard. “A date?” she repeated, her tone curious, as if needing to clarify what she’d just heard.
“Yeah,” Paige said simply, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why not?”
Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Paige, you’ve never been on a date in your life,” she teased, the corners of her lips lifting into a smirk.
Paige grinned, unfazed. “Then you can be my first. It’ll just be dinner. That’s what people do on first dates, right?”
Azzi couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her, a warm sound that filled the room. “Sure, P,” she said softly, her gaze lingering on Paige’s earnest expression. “You can take me on a date.”
“Perfect,” Paige said, her grin widening. “Tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” Azzi repeated, her eyebrows shooting up in mock surprise. “What if I’m busy?”
Paige tilted her head, giving Azzi a pointed look. “We have the same schedule. You’re free.”
Azzi playfully scoffed, crossing her arms. “Fine, tomorrow,” she said, her lips curling into an amused smile. “But don’t think this means I’m easy to impress.”
Paige leaned closer, her confidence never wavering. “Oh, I don’t need to impress you,” she teased, her voice dropping just enough to send a slight shiver through Azzi. “You’re already impressed by everything I do.”
Azzi rolled her eyes, but the blush creeping up her neck betrayed her. “You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, unable to hide her smile.
“Ridiculous enough for you to go on a date with me,” Paige shot back, settling back into the pillows with a triumphant grin.
…
The next night rolled around, and Paige found herself standing outside the door of her own suite, a bouquet of flowers in her hand. She’d insisted that if this was going to be a real date, she had to pick Azzi up properly. So to make it authentic, she’d gotten ready in Nika’s room, leaving Azzi to prepare in the suite they shared.
Now, as she stood there, her nerves betrayed her usual confidence. Paige wiped her hands on her pants and took a steadying breath, the flowers trembling slightly in her grip. When the door finally opened, any composure she’d mustered vanished.
Azzi stood before her in a matching hot pink set: shorts and a blazer-like jacket that hung open to reveal an extremely cropped black shirt underneath, leaving little to the imagination. The outfit framed her toned stomach perfectly, her belly piercing catching the light, while the silver heart necklace Paige had given her rested against her skin.
Paige’s breath hitched, her words disappearing entirely as she stared. Azzi, blushing ever so slightly under the weight of Paige’s gaze, let out a soft laugh. “Do you like it?” she teased, her voice laced with a hint of shyness despite her confident appearance.
Paige finally snapped her mouth shut, her lips curving into a goofy smile. “Woah… yeah…you look amazing, Azzi,” she managed, her voice quieter than usual.
Then she remembered the flowers still in her hand and thrust them forward a little awkwardly. “These are for you.”
Azzi’s smile softened, her brown eyes sparkling as she took the bouquet. “Thank you,” she said warmly, clearly charmed by how flustered Paige was—a rarity for the usually self-absorbed blonde.
Azzi turned and walked back into the suite to find a vase for the flowers. Paige stayed rooted in place, still lingering by the doorway. Her gaze followed Azzi as the other girl moved effortlessly, her perfume lingering in the air where she had stood. Paige exhaled slowly, her heart pounding as she realized how completely Azzi had captivated her.
As Azzi walked back toward the door, her eyes flickered over Paige, taking in every detail. Paige had her hair down, slightly wavy—just the way Azzi liked it—and was wearing a knitted cardigan adorned with delicate flowers and a white shirt underneath it. Her patchwork blue jeans, with their various shades of denim, added a casual yet stylish touch that somehow made her look a little too good in Azzi’s eyes.
Azzi’s gaze lingered as she raked her eyes over Paige’s figure, a subtle appreciation shining in her expression. Paige, noticing this, seemed to regain her usual confidence. The nervous energy from earlier faded, replaced by a smirk that tugged at the corner of her lips.
“What?” Paige teased, her voice low and playful as she tilted her head. “You already eye fucking me, and we haven’t even left yet?”
Azzi blinked, caught off guard by Paige’s sudden shift in demeanor, but her cheeks warmed as she laughed softly. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she shot back, brushing past Paige and bumping her shoulder lightly.
Paige chuckled, stepping aside to let Azzi pass, but her smirk only deepened. “Come on,” she said, holding out her hand for Azzi to take. “Let’s get this date started before you decide you can’t wait.”
Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that crept across her face as she slipped her hand into Paige’s. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t already decided.”
…
When they arrived at the restaurant, Paige made a point to pull Azzi’s seat out for her, earning a soft, amused smile. After ensuring Azzi was comfortably seated, Paige settled into her own chair, her fingers lightly drumming on the table.
Azzi noticed the subtle nervous energy radiating from Paige and leaned forward, her smile warm and reassuring. “You know you don’t need to be nervous, right? It’s just us. We’ve had dinner together hundreds of times.”
Paige, not one to admit she was rattled, plastered on a confident grin. “Psh, nervous? Me? I’ve got this in the bag,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively, though her knee bouncing under the table told a different story.
Azzi tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re such a liar. You’re literally fidgeting right now.”
Paige stilled her hands and raised a brow. “Okay, first of all, I’m not fidgeting. I’m just... uh, practicing my reflexes. Athletes do that, you know. Second, this is going to be the best date you’ve ever been on, so sit back and enjoy, Ms. Fudd.”
Azzi chuckled, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand. “Alright then, let’s see what you’ve got.”
Paige smirked, relaxing slightly as they fell into their usual rhythm. The conversation shifted to light teasing like always
Azzi grinned as Paige described an admittedly clumsy move during practice earlier that week that led to a turnover. “So you’re saying your hands couldn’t keep up, huh?” Azzi teased, her voice dropping just enough to add a layer of meaning.
Paige rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “Not everyone has your freakishly perfect coordination, Az.”
“Good thing I remember you being pretty coordinated when it actually counts…” Azzi replied smoothly, her voice low and full of suggestion.
Paige froze mid-breath, her jaw dropping open as her brain scrambled to process Azzi’s words.
Azzi leaned back in her chair, her smirk wide as she watched Paige’s stunned expression. “What? Cat got your tongue?”
Before Paige could even think of a response, the waiter approached their table, her attention immediately drawn to Paige. With a charming smile, she addressed Paige warmly, completely ignoring Azzi.
Paige, however, didn’t even notice the waiter’s presence. Her wide-eyed gaze remained fixed on Azzi, her expression a mix of desire, admiration, and pure shock.
Azzi glanced at the waiter, then back at Paige, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms. “Earth to Paige,” she said teasingly, lightly kicking her under the table.
Paige blinked, finally snapping out of her daze. “Huh?” she mumbled, her head jerking toward the waiter, who was now waiting patiently with an amused expression.
The waiter gave Paige a quick once-over before flashing a flirtatious smile. “I was just asking, if you’re ready to order? I’m sure whatever you choose will be just as good as you look,” she said, her tone light and teasing.
Paige, still a little dazed, didn’t even acknowledge the compliment, her eyes having already drifted back to Azzi. Without missing a beat, she motioned toward Azzi, murmuring, “Um she’ll order for both of us.”
Azzi smirked at the subtle way Paige brushed the girl off. “I’ll have the grilled salmon, and she’ll have the filet mignon, medium, with a side of the mashed potatoes,” she said smoothly, locking eyes with the waiter.
The waiter gave a quick nod, clearly a little taken aback by Azzi’s effortless command, before she turned and walked away.
Azzi, not letting her teasing moment pass, leaned in and whispered, “You’re so easy to fluster, you know that?”
Paige finally shook herself out of her stupor, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “You like making me do that, don’t you?”
Azzi’s smirk deepened, and she leaned back in her chair. “Maybe. It’s cute how much I can get to you with just a few words.”
Azzi and Paige continued their light conversation, the air between them easy and familiar as they waited for their food to come out.
As she returned with their food, her smile widening as she set the plates down in front of them. Her gaze lingered on Paige once more, and she leaned slightly closer than necessary. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked, her voice soft, her tone unmistakably suggestive.
Paige, busy unwrapping her silverware, didn’t bother looking at the waiter. Instead, she gestured toward Azzi. “You can ask her,” she said dismissively, her tone a little flat.
Azzi’s lips twitched with amusement as she leaned back in her chair. With deliberate ease, she reached across the table, letting her hand rest just near Paige’s wrist. She kept her touch subtle, a silent claim that didn’t go unnoticed by Paige, whose posture relaxed slightly as she smiled to herself.
Azzi finally turned her gaze to the waiter, her smile polite but sharp. “We’re all set, thanks,” she said smoothly, her tone leaving no room for interpretation.
The waiter hesitated, clearly missing—or choosing to ignore—the subtext. She turned her attention back to Paige, leaning forward slightly. “Well, if you change your mind... you know where to find me,” she said, her eyes glinting with boldness as she lingered at the table longer than necessary.
Azzi tilted her head slightly, her amusement growing at the audacity of the girl in front of her. So her fingers shifted, brushing just barely against Paige’s wrist now, her touch featherlight but deliberate. Paige’s breath slightly hitched, her eyes darting to Azzi as her face began to flush at the soft touch.
Azzi, clearly enjoying herself, leaned forward slightly. Her voice dropped, soft and teasing but with a possessive undertone that was impossible to miss. “Paige, baby,” she murmured, her thumb starting a slow, deliberate stroke against the inside of Paige’s wrist as she looked her in the eyes. “Is there anything you need from her?”
Paige’s lips parted, her breath slightly stuttering as she stared at Azzi in awe. She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “No... I'm good,” she said, the words rushed but sincere, clearly immersed in the control Azzi was putting forward.
Azzi smirked, her fingers sliding down to lightly intertwine with Paige’s. She didn’t grip too tightly, just enough to make her point as she finally turned her attention back to the waiter. “See? She’s good,” Azzi said, her tone sweet but pointed, her eyes narrowing slightly.
The waiter faltered, her confidence cracking as her eyes flicked between them, taking in the subtle shift in Paige’s demeanor as she was once again completely immersed in Azzi. “I was just being friendly,” she said, her smile now strained.
Azzi’s smile tightened, and her grip on Paige’s hand squeezed just slightly, her thumb brushing along the back of Paige’s knuckles. “Friendly’s fine,” she said lightly, her tone still sweet but carrying an unmistakable edge. “Just not with her.”
The waiter finally seemed to understand she was losing ground. With a tight, awkward smile, she mumbled, “Well... enjoy your meal,” before walking away without another word.
As the waiter disappeared, Azzi let out a soft chuckle, her thumb lazily resuming its strokes against Paige’s hand. “That was cute,” Azzi teased, her smirk widening as she watched Paige squirm.
Paige groaned, finally tugging her hand free and leaning forward to hide her face in her hands. “You’re kinda crazy Az,” she muttered, though her soft laugh betrayed her words.
Azzi leaned back in her chair, her smirk still firmly in place as she picked up her fork. “Well I guess that’s the first new thing you’ll learn about me,” she said casually, giving Paige a look. “I really don’t like sharing.”
Paige peeked at her from between her fingers, her lips quirking into a teasing smile. “Hmm. Wouldn’t have pegged you as the jealous type,” she said, her voice light but edged with curiosity.
Azzi’s smile widened as she shrugged. “I didn’t say anything about being jealous,” she replied smoothly.. She tilted her head toward where the waiter had retreated. “I just know how to put people in their place.”
Paige laughed, rolling her eyes as she leaned back in her chair. “No need,” she said casually. “I don’t see anybody but you at this point.”
The simplicity of Paige's words struck Azzi unexpectedly, and her heart fluttered in her chest. There was a warmth in the sincerity of it all, a reassurance that settled deep in her, and in that moment, Azzi realized how much she wanted to give herself over completely to Paige. It wasn’t just about the date or the playful teasing anymore—it was about something real, something she could feel in her bones.
A while later Azzi was grinning as Paige gave her another bite of her food, making her comment softly, “You know, this is the first date I’ve actually enjoyed.”
Paige cocked an eyebrow, her lips curving into a cocky grin. “Of course it is,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “It’s me.”
Azzi rolled her eyes, her smile never wavering. “Whatever,” she muttered playfully, but the affection in her voice was unmistakable. She couldn’t deny how much this meant to her.
Paige, with a teasing glint in her eye, reached for another bite of food, offering it to Azzi again. But Azzi raised an eyebrow, giving her a mock glare. “Are you actually going to eat any of your food, or are you just planning on giving it all to me?”
Paige shrugged with a mischievous grin. “You need to eat.”
Azzi glanced down at her plate, clearly making progress in her meal. “I’m eating,” she said, giving Paige an exaggerated look. Azzi picked up a forkful of her salmon and waved it in front of Paige’s face. “Here. You try it. It’s actually pretty good.”
Paige recoiled dramatically, holding up her hands. “Oh no, I’m good. You know I don’t do salmon.”
Azzi made a face, then went for the classic move. She looked at Paige with the most exaggerated, pleading puppy dog eyes she could muster. “Please? Just one bite? For me?”
Paige sighed dramatically, resisting for only a moment. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
But before Azzi could even manage a victorious grin, Paige relented. “Fine. One bite.” She said with mock reluctance and let Azzi feed her a bite of the salmon.
Paige chewed it slowly, her face a picture of careful deliberation. She swallowed and then, after a long pause, gave Azzi a look that was half-amused, half-disgusted.
Azzi was already smiling, clearly pleased with herself. “See? It wasn’t that bad.”
Paige grumbles in disagreement as she eats some of her food to get rid of the taste.
As they continued talking Paige was mid-bite when a small bit of mashed potato found its way to her lip. She didn’t notice at first but Azzi did. So with a playful smirk, Azzi reached across the table, her fingers brushing lightly against Paige's skin as she gently wiped the spot from her lip with her index finger. As she pulled her hand back, Azzi made a deliberate show of slowly licking the mashed potato off her finger, her gaze locked with Paige’s the entire time. The movement was teasing, a mix of subtle flirtation and confidence that left Paige a little breathless.
Paige couldn’t pull her eyes away from Azzi as she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. When she managed to speak, her voice low, almost a whisper as she simply said, “Azzi please.”
Azzi tilted her head innocently, her lips curling into a playful smile. “Yes, Paige?” she asked, her tone casual, but her eyes sparkled with mischief, knowing exactly what she was doing, loving the control she had over Paige.
Paige swallowed hard, her heart racing as she licked her lips. “You’re killing me tonight,” she murmured, her gaze never breaking from Azzi’s.
Azzi’s smile widened, her voice dripping with teasing confidence as she leaned just slightly closer across the table. “I know, baby,” she replied smoothly.
The air around them seemed to shift. The noise of the restaurant, the clink of cutlery, the hum of conversations—all faded into the background as Paige and Azzi stayed locked in each other’s gaze. Paige’s pupils dilated, her blue eyes growing darker under the intensity of Azzi’s stare.
Azzi, fully aware of the effect she was having, didn’t look away. There was a challenge in her gaze now, an unspoken dare, almost as if she was silently urging Paige to make the next move.
Paige clenched her jaw, fighting the urge to pull Azzi closer, to end the dinner and take her home. She could feel her composure slipping away, and Azzi, with that smile still firmly in place, was more than happy to push her further.
Azzi’s gaze never wavered as she subtly shifted her hand, her fingers brushing against Paige's with a deliberate slowness as she let their fingers intertwine, a small yet intimate gesture that sent a jolt of heat through Paige’s body. Azzi’s touch was light, almost teasing, but it was enough to completely throw off Paige’s concentration.
Paige had to close her eyes for a moment, trying to regain some semblance of control. She could barely think straight with the way Azzi was looking at her. So she took a slow breath, trying to ground herself, but Azzi’s hand holding hers kept her tethered in the moment.
“Open your eyes P,” Azzi’s voice was a whisper, but it carried authority, a command wrapped in sweetness. The edge in her tone made Paige’s stomach tighten.
Paige slowly opened her eyes, finding herself once again lost in the depths of Azzi’s gaze immediately. There was no escaping it now. She was completely under Azzi’s spell, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to escape at all. Azzi’s fingers tightened around hers, their palms pressed together as the world around them seemed to fade, leaving only them.
Azzi’s gaze softened, her voice barely above a whisper. “What are you thinking about?” she asked, her words carrying a mix of curiosity and something darker, something that Paige could feel even before the question left her lips.
Paige, unable to look away, let a slow smile curl at the corners of her mouth. “You know exactly what I’m thinking about,” she said, her voice low.
Azzi’s smile widened, her eyes flickering with mischief and desire. “Take me home then,” she said, the words slipping from her lips like a secret, a command wrapped in temptation.
That was all it took.
Paige didn’t hesitate. She threw a couple of bills onto the table—definitely more than enough to cover the tab—and stood up. Both of them heading for Paige’s car with a little extra pep in their step.
…
Once they get to the suite, Azzi starts walking towards her room, but Paige grabs her hand pulling her towards her room that’s further from Ice’s, trying to spare the girl.
Azzi raises an eyebrow but doesn’t protest as she lets Paige lead her. As they step into Paige’s room she wastes no time shutting the door behind them and locking it.
Paige flicks on her led lamp to lightly illuminate the room and before she can gather her bearings, Azzi’s hands were on her, as she gently pushed her back against the door. Paige’s back hit it with a soft thud, her breath catching in her throat at Azzi’s confidence and her pulse quickening slightly as she met Azzi’s smile with a grin of her own. Azzi’s smile was a slow, teasing smile–one that made Paige feel like she was already a step behind in whatever was happening in Azzi’s head.
Azzi studied her for a moment, clearly enjoying the way Paige’s body seemed to melt at her touch. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for the buttons on Paige's cardigan, her fingers grazing the fabric as she slowly started unbuttoning it. "You always look so damn good," Azzi murmured, her voice soft but filled with heat. "You have no idea what you do to me. How you make me feel."
With each button undone, the white shirt underneath was revealed, the fabric clinging slightly to Paige’s frame, teasing Azzi. The room felt unbearably warm, and Paige was basically trembling, unsure if it was from desire or the intensity of Azzi's gaze.
Azzi stopped halfway through unbuttoning, her fingers still resting on the cardigan. "Tell me…" she whispered, leaning in close, her breath brushing against Paige's cheek. "What are you thinking about now?"
Paige’s breath hitched, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts, none of them coherent enough to form an answer. She could feel the heat of Azzi's body so close to hers, her lips barely brushing her ear with each whispered word. She couldn’t even formulate a response. She had never felt like this before, had never been the one with a loss of words.
Azzi smiled softly at Paige’s flustered expression, enjoying the way Paige’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as she finished unbuttoning Paige’s sweater. With a deliberate slowness Azzi brushed the cardigan off Paige’s shoulders, letting it fall carelessly to the floor.
Her fingers trailed down Paige’s waist, coming to rest on her belt as she began undoing it as she watched Paige’s every reaction. Azzi's touch was firm but gentle, pulling Paige just slightly towards her, guiding them slowly toward the bed. Their eyes met, and in that moment, Azzi's gaze was soft but undeniably commanding, filled with an unspoken promise that sent a shiver down Paige’s spine.
“I want you,” Azz whispered, her voice low and laced with desire. “I want you to do whatever you want to me.”
Paige finally found her voice, her tone softer, almost vulnerable as she asked, “Are you sure?”
Azzi didn’t hesitate. Without a flicker of doubt in her eyes, she nodded, the softness of her gaze only intensifying the fire between them.
Azzi’s confirmation was all Paige needed as she immediately reached for Azzi, pulling her into a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate, their breaths mingling as the moment consumed them. Azzi’s fingers, still toying with Paige’s belt, moved to undo it with an effortless confidence that made Paige’s pulse quicken.
Before she knew it, Paige was guiding Azzi backward the rest of the way toward the bed, her grip steady but filled with an unspoken urgency. Azzi smirked against Paige’s lips, letting herself be pushed down, her body melting into the mattress.
The sight of Paige standing above her, her belt now hanging open and her eyes completely dilated with want was enough to make Azzi bite her lip, her gaze also dark. Her hand found its way to Paige’s loose belt gently tugging Paige toward her. “Don’t make me wait anymore,” she teased, her voice dripping with desire.
Azzi watches as Paige takes off her jeans, never breaking eye contact. As soon as she’s done she’s climbing on the bed, hovering over Azzi as their lips meet again, this time softer but no less consuming, Each kiss feeling like a promise, a declaration as they become lost in one another.
Paige’s hands moved expertly, finding the edges of Azzi’s blazer. With a gentle tug, she slipped it off Azzi’s shoulder, her fingertips brushing against Azzi's warm skin. Azzi sat up slightly to help, her eyes never leaving Paige’s as the blazer fell away, leaving her in the cropped black shirt that clung to her frame tightly.
Paige’s breath caught for a moment as her gaze roamed over Azzi, her hands lightly tracing along the hem of her shirt. “You’re incredible,” Paige whispered, her voice tinged with awe.
Azzi smiles at Paige’s words, her expression soft at the girl on top of her. Without saying a word, she reached up, pulling Paige toward her again, capturing her lips in a kiss that was much more intense than the last.
The kiss grew heavier with each moment, Paige swiping her tongue across Azzi’s lips asking for access that Azzi immediately grants as the world outside the room fades away, their focus narrowing to just the two of them. Azzi’s hands roam Paige’s sides, her touch firm, sending jolts of excitement through Paige’s skin.
Azzi breaks the kiss briefly, pushing Paige slightly back with a playful smirk. Paige looked at her, breathless, as Azzi’s hands reached for the hem of her shirt. With a smooth motion, Azzi pulled the shirt over her head, tossing it aside before meeting Paige’s gaze again who had also quickly discarded her white shirt.
The sight of Azzi like this left Paige momentarily stunned. But before she could linger on the image too long trying to capture it for memory, Azzi pulled her back in, their lips meeting again matching the intensity right where they left off.
Azzi began making soft noises into Paige’s mouth, each sound sending a warmth through her body. It drove Paige absolutely crazy, her restraint slipping more and more with every passing second.
“Fuck Azzi,” Paige murmured, her voice low as she pulled back just enough to begin pressing her lips to Azzi’s neck. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
Azzi let out another quiet, breathy moan at the attention she was getting, her hands grabbing Paige’s waist as she tilted her head to the side granting Paige better access. “I think I do,” she whispered, her voice teasing but strained.
Paige’s lips and teeth worked along Azzi’s neck, her kisses alternating between soft and firm as she trailed down to the delicate curve where Azzi’s shoulder met her collarbone. Azzi’s hands slide up Paige’s back, pulling her impossibly closer. “Right there baby,” Azzi whispered, her voice breaking slightly as Paige’s lips and tongue lingered on a particularly sensitive spot.
“Shit you feel so good,” Azzi breathed, her words almost inaudible but thick with emotion.
Her voice was like music to Paige’s ears, the way it shook with every touch drove her to keep going. Paige’s lips curled into a slight smile against Azzi’s skin as she dragged her mouth lower, savoring the soft gasps and whispered encouragement Azzi continued to spill.
“Perfect,” Azzi murmured, when Paige’s lips met her waist. Her voice melted into something low and satisfied. “You’re perfect.”
Paige groaned softly at the words, her hands tightening on Azzi’s hips as she whispered back, “You’re killing me Azzi baby.”
Azzi laughed softly, though it was laced with breathlessness. “Then don’t hold back,” she murmured, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair. “I don’t want you to.” Before Azzi could even process what she was asking for, the rest of her clothes were pulled off skilfully in a quick motion.
Paige’s actions fueled by Azzi’s words, every whispered encouragement and breathless murmur driving her as she finally gave Azzi exactly what she wanted, pouring every ounce of her desire and affection into her touch.
Azzi made sure Paige knew exactly how much she was enjoying every moment of it. Her voice a symphony of soft gasps, murmured praises, and loud moans, echoing through the room without a care for who might hear.
“Fuck baby…yes just like that,” Azzi said breathlessly, her hands threading through Paige’s hair, tugging lightly as her head titled back and her hips moved to reach Paige’s movements. “Don’t stop..please, don’t stop.”
Paige just hummed as she pressed closer, her lips and hands working in perfect rhythm, completely consumed by Azzi’s responses. Each sound Azzi made spurring her on more, her own restraint dissolving as she focused on the girl beneath her.
“You’re amazing,” Azzi murmured, her voice trembling with raw emotion, her nails grabbing Paige’s shoulders. “I need you, Paige. Just you.”
Paige’s heart raced at the confession, her fingers growing more intense as she kissed her way back to Azzi’s lips, capturing her in a passionate kiss that left them both breathless.
Azzi’s laughter bubbled up between gasps, a mix of pure joy and overwhelming sensation at the way Paige was touching her. “You’re going to make me lose my mind,” she admitted, her voice shaky but full of affection, her lips brushing against Paige’s as she spoke.
Paige’s fingers continued their rhythm inside Azzi, as her voice dipped into a tone so soft yet full of conviction. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, her words wrapping around Azzi. “Every part of you, Azzi…I could get lost in your forever.”
Azzi’s breath hitched at the sincerity in Paige’s voice, her chest rising and falling as she clung to the words. Paige didn’t stop there, leaning closer, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she added, “You’re everything to me Az. So perfect. I promise you I’m only yours.”
The praise sent so much warmth through Azzi and she arched slightly, her head tilting back as her lips parted. “Paige..” she murmured her voice trembling with emotion. Azzi’s hands found their way to Paige’s back, holding onto her as if she were her anchor, grounding her in this moment.
Azzi’s gaze was unwavering, her brown eyes dark with passion yet soft with adoration. Paige’s blue eyes mirrored the same intensity, her pupils dilated as she took in every inch of the girl beneath her.
“You’re so fucking incredible,” Azzi whispered, her voice breathy but firm, her fingers digging into Paige’s skin as her fingers curled perfectly inside of her.
Azzi began trembling beneath Paige biting her lip trying to hold onto some resemblance of control, her body completely attuned to every touch, every word, the way their gaze was locked onto one another. Her breathing became uneven, her chest rising and falling as if she was trying to steady herself but kept failing. Her eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, but Paige wasn’t having it.
“Azzi,” Paige whispered, her voice low but commanding, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she hovered over her. “Look at me,”
Azzi’s long lashes flickered as she tried to open her eyes but the feeling was too much for her. Paige’s free hand gently cupped her jaw, her thumb brushing over her cheek as she spoke again, this time softer but just as firm. “Open your eyes, Az. I want you to look at me while you finish for me baby.”
Azzi let out a shaky breath, her lids lifting slowly until their eyes met once more. The second their gazes locked it was like Azzi couldn’t take anymore as her mouth fell open, the sheer intimacy of the moment causing a sound to escape Azzi’s lips–louder and more unrestrained than she expected. It was uncharacteristically loud for someone usually so composed but she didn’t care. “God, baby right there... please Paige... don't…fuck please don’t stop,” every word laced with need and vulnerability before she’s throwing her head back coming undone for Paige.
Paige smiles at the sound of Azzi's voice as she leans in and kisses her slowly, their tongue tasting every part of each other as Paige's pace slows, just enough to make Azzi's body ache with the contrast. Azzi's breath comes in shallow gasps, every inch of her skin alive with need.
Paige’s lips curled into a soft, knowing smile, her thumb still stroking Azzi’s cheek. “You did so good for me,” she murmured, her words laced with affection and pride.
Azzi’s grip tightened on Paige’s back as she was still trying to anchor herself. Her voice trembled as she replied, “You… you’re going to ruin me, Paige.”
Paige leaned closer, her lips barely brushing against Azzi’s as she whispered, “I won’t baby, I got you. I promise.”
The exchange sent another wave of shivers through Azzi, her body arching instinctively toward Paige as she started moving again, unable to resist the pull between them. She looks up at Paige pleading for something-anything more.
Paige notices the way Azzi's body trembles under her, how her breath hitches every time she curls her fingers. Her voice drops, soothing but commanding, "Breathe, baby. Just breathe."
The words themselves are almost a command, but they're gentle, like a touch trying to calm the chaos in Azzi’s chest as it rises and falls rapidly, trying to obey, but she feels the pressure inside her building again, tighter this time. Paige's thumb presses into her as she continues her movements deliberate but slow, a stark contrast to how Azzi's body wants to react.
Paige can tell Azzi’s body is going into overdrive so she starts speaking to her. "Focus on me," Paige murmurs near Azzi’s ear, her voice smooth and low, sending ripples of warmth through Azzi. "Focus on your breathing. In and out, nice and slow." She moves her hand in small, measured circles, pushing Azzi right to the edge and pulling her back. "You're doing so good Azzi. Just breathe through it, baby. Let me guide you."
Azzi's entire body is trembling, her mind racing to keep up with the ebb and flow of pleasure. It feels like it's almost too much, but Paige's steady control-her voice, her hands keeps her grounded. The way she talks to her, calm but firm, drives Azzi crazy, and all she can do is follow, surrendering her body to the rhythm Paige has set.
"Tell me how it feels," Paige says, softly. "I wanna hear you some more for me baby."
Azzi opens her mouth, but no coherent words come out-only the sound of desperate, broken breaths as she forces herself to focus on Paige, her voice, her eyes, her touch.
"Feels... feels so good, Paige baby... I can't-" Her voice cracks, the tension too much to contain, but Paige doesn't speed up. She waits, her touch still steady.
"Good just like that baby. Breathe. You're almost there," Paige whispers, coaxing Azzi through it, her own voice filled with desire and pure admiration of the girl underneath her.
Azzi looks up at Paige, her eyes glazed over with need as she’s straining to keep them open. She trembles slightly, her voice barely a whisper as she murmurs, "P I can’t— I can't take anymore."
Paige’s hand shifts to lightly wrap around Azzi’s neck, gently but firmly guiding her gaze to her eyes, making sure she doesn’t look away. She squeezes slightly, her thumb brushing across Azzi’s skin as she speaks, her voice steady but soft, full of encouragement. “Yes, you can. Just relax baby. Let me make you feel good.”
Azzi nods, trying to steady her racing heart, her breaths shallow as she sinks into the rhythm of Paige's touch. As Paige squeezes again, Azzi’s hand moves to cover Paige’s, her fingers curling around hers, squeezing tighter as she gazes directly into Paige’s eyes. The sensation sparks something deep inside her, and without breaking eye contact, she whispers, "Harder, baby."
The words are a desperate plea, the intensity of her need clear in her voice. Paige’s eyes never leave Azzi’s as her breath hitches and the pressure builds. Azzi, feeling her body react, presses her hips closer to Paige’s movements, her chest rising and falling faster. “Fuck Paige right there, don’t stop,” Azzi breathes out, her voice low and almost frantic. “Mmm make me feel it baby, show me how much you miss fucking me.”
Paige tightens her grip, feeling Azzi’s pulse beneath her fingertips, and Azzi’s body continues to tremble with anticipation as Paige quickens her movements, fingers curling as she moves in and out of Azzi. Paige’s voice is low, almost teasing, as she murmurs, “You’re taking it so well baby fuck, you look so good under me.”
Azzi’s fingers curl tighter around Paige’s wrist, urging her on. “Yes, just like that,” Azzi whispers, her voice filled with a desire that only Paige can satisfy. “Harder, please Paige, don’t stop. You feel so good.”
Paige’s touch becomes more deliberate, the pressure firm and her movements unrelenting as Azzi’s breathing quickens. She feels the way Azzi’s body reacts, every tremble and sigh pushing her to give her more. Paige leans in, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she whispers, “You’re so gorgeous baby, so perfect…I always knew how pretty you would sound.”
Azzi moans softly, unable to stop the sounds escaping her lips, each one more desperate than the last as Paige’s gaze burns into her. For a moment, neither of them speaks. The air between them thick a shared silence where only the sound of their heavy breathing and Paige’s fingers moving in and out of Azzi remains.
After a few more seconds, Azzi's body gives in, a burning release overtaking her body again as she arches her back off the bed. A chorus of breathless moans escaping her lips.
Paige's heart stirs at the sight as she removes her hand from Azzi’s neck immediately and without hesitation. She leans down, kissing her cheek gently as if she's taking away the last bit of tension that still clung to Azzi's body. She whispers, "God you're so beautiful Az. You mean everything to me," before leaning her lips down to Azzi's, their kiss soft, almost loving.
Azzi's eyes flutter shut, her hands coming down to wrap around Paige's head as she lets the kiss ground her. It's slow and tender and everything Azzi needs.
Paige starts kissing down Azzi’s body, ready to keep going but Azzi’s hand shoots out, gently but firmly stopping her. Her breath comes in shaky gasps as she looks at Paige with exhaustion and a small sight of desire. “Baby…I can’t. Physically… I can’t take anymore right now, I need a break.” She says, her voice strained, the edge of exhaustion clear.
Paige’s lips curl into a teasing smirk, the challenge in her eyes only growing more playful. Before she can say anything, Azzi—still struggling to catch her breath—manages a shaky smile and jokes, “Shut up, Paige. Seriously, just… shut up for a second."
Paige’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “I’ll give you a break but I hope you can keep up because I plan on doing this all night,” she teased softly, her voice low and dripping with warmth.
Azzi responded with a quiet hum of agreement, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair to pull her back into another soft slow kiss, one that carried all the unspoken promises of the night still ahead.
…
The next morning, Paige woke up groggily, the bright sunlight streaming through the window making it impossible to stay asleep. She stirred, trying to stretch, but stopped when she felt a comforting weight pinning her down. Azzi’s body was draped halfway over her, the other half sprawled across the bed. Paige couldn’t help but smile as her gaze landed on Azzi’s face, her soft features illuminated by the morning light.
A quiet laugh escaped Paige’s lips as she realized Azzi was definitely going to blame her for letting her fall asleep without her bonnet, she could already hear the teasing tone in her voice.
As if sensing Paige’s thoughts, Azzi began to stir, a groan slipping past her lips as she shielded her eyes from the sun. “Ugh, why is it so bright?” she mumbled, echoing Paige’s earlier thoughts.
Paige chuckled softly, shifting her body to block the sunlight from hitting Azzi’s face. “Better?” she asked gently, her voice warm and teasing.
When Azzi finally looked up at her, a sleepy smile spread across her face, her dimples appearing as her cheeks flushed slightly. “Good morning, pretty girl,” Paige said, her voice soft but filled with affection.
Azzi’s smile grew wider at the compliment, but she quickly tried to hide her face against Paige’s chest. “Mmm, too sleepy,” she mumbled, her voice muffled.
Paige laughed quietly and carefully shifted out from under Azzi, earning a small, dissatisfied grumble from her. She walked over to the window, pulling the blackout curtains closed and plunging the room into a comforting darkness.
As she returned to the bed, Azzi wasted no time, tugging Paige back down and pulling her close but before Paige could settle in, Azzi leaned up to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. Paige’s heart immediately fluttered at the tenderness of the moment, how casual Azzi was about it.
“Go back to sleep,” Azzi whispered, her words barely audible as she rested her head on Paige’s chest once more.
Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and with Azzi’s steady breaths against her, Paige felt a sense of peace she hadn’t ever experienced. Slowly, they both drifted back to sleep as Paige realized she was completely in love with the girl laying on her chest.
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Hi Qwille!
So I was wondering because I’m struggling with this myself- how did you continuously improve with art when you were first still building upon your skills? Like to get to a level that could be professional?
And I think I mean this in more of a mental capacity way. I tend to get angry at the fact that I’m not better by now and feel like I struggle by the skin of my teeth to improve from where I’m at every time, even if objectively speaking I’m already better than people would expect me to be.
I just feel like there’s a better way to go about it than being fueled by anger or spite. I enjoy art, and I’m proud of my work, but I don’t know how to *not* be angry at myself for not being better at it. How do you accept self criticism with grace when it comes to your work? Or how did you, when you were younger? If that’s a question you’re willing to ask, of course! Thank you <3
Hiya! So, I'll start out by saying that this is absolutely the hardest part about learning to draw/paint. The continuous failure and discontent with the work we produce is a constant struggle that is, I believe, the main reason people stop trying to learn at all.
It's okay to get angry and sad, it's okay to be dissatisfied. It's a very cruel joke that, as artists, our eye will improve faster than our ability to draw. We are constantly chasing a carrot that is being pulled further away from us. For me: my improvement was not constant. There were several points where I didn't draw for years, because of other life factors and because the art I was creating brought me no joy.
Things had to change when I decided that I wanted to do art professionally. I needed to improve and improve fast, so I bent a lot of time towards studies. I found that the things I got better at the fastest were the ones where I found studying to be really fun. I really enjoy copying master paintings- especially the nineteenth and twentieth century realists. Finding fun in doing them for the sake of doing them really helped me improve fast because it wasn't stressful- I was just creating art I liked, even if they were copies.
I think accepting that the main joy of art is in the creating, not the result, really helped me be at peace with my artwork. Also, becoming a professional artist and realising that I didnt own what I created- and that I was subject to the (often questionable) tastes of my commissioners/art directors/stakeholders really allowed me to unlatch my emotional self from my work.
Every piece is a step, sometimes you will hit your bellcurve, make the best thing you are currently capable of making- and fuck that feels good- but often you wont, and you wont know why you dont like it. Learning to enjoy the push towards those small moments, the slow improvement as you gradually grasp new skills, learning to love learning, that is the most curative thing. Once I started to enjoy failing, because it meant I was learning- and once I started forgiving myself for not picking everything up straight away- I was much, much happier.
It's okay for it to be hard and your emotions are valid. Forgive yourself for having them and try to find something you enjoy about the process. Recontextualise your mistakes as what they are: not a failure, but just another step up the giant mountain of your art journey. There is always a higher peak. The journey never ends. Stop looking at the top and just enjoy the view and the mountain air. (And for fucks sake don't compare yourself to other people. They're not even climbing the same landmass.)
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Can u do a Bayverse family au oneshot of Raph being a girl dad and hanging out with his girls?
Dad’s Monkeys (Fluff)
Children Series
Bayverse!Raphael x reader
A/N: It’s about time I give Raph and his daughters some time to shine❤️ The whole Monkey Tree thing is inspired by a came the children in my kindergarten have started playing, where they pretend to hang and climb on the adults. However we usually do it while sitting down, and do not actually allow the kids to hang from our arms in order to protect our backs. But it's fun and they enjoy it. Hope you’ll enjoy❤️
Ages: Joan - 7. Minerva - 3. Ragnar - A few weeks.
Warning: None that I can think of❤️
Sometimes, having a newborn along with a 3 year old and a 7 year old could be very hard. With your newborn son Ragnar, taking up most of your attention, it was hard to provide Joan and Minerva with the same attention, especially when Ragnar seemed to cry whenever he wasn’t carried or strapped to you. Luckily, your husband was there to help you with that, often taking your daughters off your hands, so you were able to provide for the young boy, who still wasn’t able to hold up his head on his own.
It was not hard for Raph to keep his daughter's attention. They adored him, with both of them willing to be described as their father’s girls. Joan being a force to be reckoned with, proving to be the biggest fear of Raph’s punching bag, and Mini always sticking around or on Raph whenever she could, like a monkey in a tree. And so, Raph would often bring his daughters to the weight room, where all three could take turns on the punching bag. Both for fun, and as a form of training. Two birds with one stone!
“Dad! Watch this!”, Joan yelled out, making sure she had Raph’s attention, before using her boxing glove covered hand to punch the large bag, hanging in a chain from the ceiling, causing it to swing back and furth. Raph was impressed. It felt like yesterday he first taught his oldest child how to swing her fist at a bag, and at the age of 7, she was already throwing a punch that Raph had no doubt could rival both Casey and Vern.
“Wow, well done, Jo”, Raph said, watching his oldest daughter while letting Minerva crawl up on his lap, letting her use his arm for balance. “Where did ya’ learn that?”
“You taught me that!”, Joan exclaimed with a big smile, throwing her arms up in the air, the large gloves looking comical on her hands.
“Ya’ sure? I don’t remember doing that”, Raph said with a small smile, knowing that his light teasing would get a joyful reaction out of Joan.
“Yes, you did, dad!”, Joan called out, almost bouncing over to Raph and Minerva, who had finally gotten comfortable on Raph’s left thigh, with his left arm wrapped around her, her head resting against Raph’s chest, watching her sister jump in her steps in front of Raph.
“Me? I think ya’ must have been dreaming. I couldn’t have taught ya’ that. I’m not that strong”, Raph said, acting like his arms were heavy and tired, slumping his shoulders. This seemed to get a reaction from Minerva, who looked up at Raph like he was crazy.
“That’s not true!”, Minerva called out, almost like Raph’s comment had personally hurt her. “You are strong!”
“Mini’s right, dad!”, Joan said, grabbing onto Raph’s other arm that wasn’t wrapped around her little sister, pushing it up over her head, where Raph kept it in place, allowing Joan to dangle from it like a monkey climbing in a tree, once she had taken her boxing gloves off, throwing them across the room. “See!”
Raph was about to say something along the lines of him just being lucky with his arms, only to get interrupted by Minerva, jumping from Raph’s lap to the floor, pushing the arm that had just been around her, up over her head.
“Me too!”, she yelled, pointing at Joan, still dangling from Raph’s arm. “I want to try too!”
“Only because you two are my favorite climbing monkeys”, Raph said, holding out his arms for Minerva, just low enough for her to grab a hold.
“Yay! Monkeys!”, the two girls exclaimed, laughing and giggling as they swung back and furth on Raph’s arm, kicking their legs underneath them. However those laughs and giggles quickly turned to screams of joy and excitement, as Raph stood up from his seat, bringing the girls higher up into the air, dangling from his arms as we walked around the weight room.
“Ya’ know what?”, Raph asked over the joyous sounds of his daughter. “I might be strong after all”, he said, lifting his arms up and down, like the two girls were nothing but weights, causing them to scream and giggle even louder.
—
With small Ragnar pressed against your chest, his small face scrunched up as he snuggled against you for warmth and comfort, you sat down on the couch, draping a blanket over you, pulled up just high enough, to cover the lower half of your son. Ragnar let out a small sound of comfort, his breathing growing calm as he seemed to fall asleep against you, listening to your heartbeat.
It was here, feeling the exhaust from looking after your newborn slowly take over you, that you heard the unmistakable sound of your daughters’ laughter, echoing against the walls, coming from the weight room. With a smile you listened to your daughters chanting the phrase “Monkey tree! Monkey tree!”, over and over again, followed by your husband’s bombing voice, declaring that he was in fact, a walking monkey tree, with Joan and Minerva laughing loudly at this declaration.
It may at times be hard to take care of a newborn, a 3 year old and a 7 year old, but it was at moments like these, hearing the joyous laughters of your husband and your daughters, provided you with a feeling of comfort, letting you know that everything would be alright in the end. You and Raph were trying your best, and in the end that was perfect.
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt raphael#tmnt raph#tmnt x reader#tmnt bayverse#tmnt bayverse x reader#tmnt raph x reader#tmnt raphael x reader#tmnt bayverse raph#tmnt bayverse raphael#tmnt bayverse raph x reader#tmnt bayverse raphael x reader#tmnt bayverse oc#tmnt oc#bayverse raph#bayverse raphael#bayverse raph x reader#bayverse raphael x reader#bayverse turtles#bayverse turtles x reader
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„The Weight of the Truth“
summary: in which Emily relays on her Girlfriend
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader
Content Warning: Season 17 plot line used. fluff
Word Count: 1,2k
The BAU was quiet that night, the kind of silence that rang louder than the chaos the team usually endured. Emily Prentiss sat at her desk, the warm glow of her desk lamp highlighting the exhaustion etched into her face. You, her long-time girlfriend, had promised to meet her at Quantico to help her unwind after a particularly grueling week. You often joked that dating the Unit Chief of the BAU meant being her second-in-command when it came to maintaining her sanity.
But tonight, you could tell something was different.
The moment you stepped into her office, Emily’s eyes lifted to meet yours, and you could see the storm brewing behind them. Her lips quirked into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Hey,” you greeted softly, closing the door behind you. You placed the takeout bag on her desk and walked over, your hands naturally finding her shoulders to knead out the tension. “You look like you’ve been carrying the weight of the world today.”
Emily leaned into your touch but didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she closed her eyes, savoring the fleeting comfort you offered.
“You always know,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
“Of course I know,” you replied. “I know you better than anyone, Em.”
For a while, she let you work on the knots in her shoulders, the room enveloped in a comfortable silence. But then she spoke, her tone unsteady.
“(Y/N)… there’s something I need to tell you.”
You stilled, sensing the shift in the air. You moved to sit in the chair across from her, reaching for her hands.
“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together,” you assured her.
She looked down at your joined hands, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “This week has been… complicated. The team found out some things about me that I’ve been keeping under wraps. Things I never wanted to come out.”
You frowned, your mind racing. “What do you mean?”
Emily’s gaze lifted, the vulnerability in her eyes cutting you to your core. “Before I joined the BAU—before I even met you—I was… recruited by an international organization. It was supposed to be temporary, just a few undercover missions. But those missions turned into something darker, something I’ve been trying to bury ever since.”
Your heart clenched at the weight of her words, but you didn’t interrupt.
“One of those missions involved planting false evidence,” she continued. “It was supposed to take down a dangerous criminal network, but the fallout… it ruined lives. And now, it’s come back to haunt me. Someone leaked my involvement, and the team—” She broke off, her voice cracking.
“They’re questioning you,” you finished for her.
She nodded, her jaw tight. “They say they understand, but I can see the doubt in their eyes. I’ve worked so hard to lead this team with integrity, and now it feels like everything I’ve built is falling apart.”
You let her words sink in, the gravity of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. Emily Prentiss was the strongest person you knew, but even she had her limits.
“Emily,” you said, your voice firm. “I don’t care about your past. I care about who you are now. And the woman I see in front of me is brave, compassionate, and willing to do whatever it takes to protect the people she loves.”
Tears glistened in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “You say that now, but what if—”
“No,” you interrupted, squeezing her hands. “I’m not going anywhere, no matter how messy things get. You don’t have to carry this alone.”
Emily’s lips parted as if to argue, but the look in your eyes stopped her. For once, she allowed herself to lean on you, the walls she so carefully constructed crumbling just a little.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
You stood, pulling her into a tight embrace. She clung to you, burying her face in the crook of your neck.
“I love you, Emily,” you murmured. “And we’re going to get through this. Together.”
--------------------------------------------------------
The fallout from Emily’s past continued to loom over the team in the weeks that followed. Tension was high, and trust was strained. You could see how it weighed on her, the constant scrutiny taking its toll.
One evening, you found her sitting on the couch in your shared apartment, staring blankly at the wall. You slid in beside her, tucking yourself under her arm.
“Bad day?” you asked gently.
She let out a heavy sigh. “They caught the leak, but the damage is done. I can tell the team’s still wary. And maybe they should be. Maybe I’m not the leader they deserve.”
“Don’t say that,” you said firmly. “You’ve saved more lives than I can count, Emily. You’ve made mistakes, sure, but that doesn’t erase all the good you’ve done.”
She looked at you, her eyes searching yours for reassurance. “What if I can’t fix this? What if I lose everything I’ve worked for?”
“You won’t lose me,” you said softly.
That night, as you lay in bed together, you held her close, letting her feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. It was a silent promise—a reminder that no matter what happened, she wasn’t alone.
--------------------------------------------------------
Months passed, and Emily slowly began to rebuild the trust she thought she’d lost. The team rallied around her, proving that the bonds they shared were stronger than any shadow from her past.
And you were there every step of the way, reminding her of her worth, of the love that surrounded her.
One evening, as you stood in the kitchen cooking dinner, Emily walked in, a rare smile gracing her lips. She wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“What’s this for?” you asked with a laugh.
“For being you,” she replied simply. “For sticking by me when I wasn’t sure I deserved it.”
You turned in her arms, cupping her face. “You deserve the world, Emily Prentiss. Don’t ever doubt that.”
In that moment, she realized that no matter how dark her past might be, the future was brighter because you were in it.
And for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace.
#criminal minds#emily prentiss#wlw#wlw post#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss x reader#paget brewster#emily prentiss fanfiction#fanfiction
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I'VE BEEN BRAIN ROTTING ABOUT THIS SO HARDDD but like... any of your ocs reactions to their s/o dying??? or like, getting ill with a disease that can't be cured. ( rivius and uhm any other of your boys?? kinda curious how nokka would react to wifey dying before him ) your ocs have been in my mind for MONTHS now ever since i found your blog and i've been visiting your blog for more than twice a day, it's so bad. also, I'm sorry if I broke any of your rules when it comes to requesting something...
—-/——-/———-/———-/—————-
[The Archdevil reaction to your death]
—-/——-/———-/———-/—————-
“No, no, no! This is all rubbish! The formula needs one last piece! That’s all it’d take to finally fix them!”
Rivius snarled, the devil was holed up in his laboratory. Completely closed off from the outside world, obsessing over perfecting the perfect formula. A formula that could cheat death in its raw essence.
Your life was taken far too soon, an untraceable contamination latched onto you. Before you could make it to his laboratory to get throughly quarantined. The mad scientist was running on empty, blackened eyes with his pupils glowing red with pure devastation. His tears slowly dripped like magma, burning holes into his scattered diagrams and blueprints.
In his manic episode he chopped off his hair, the long mane. That was his only boost of self esteem to show that he actually belonged in his lineage off giants despite his inferior size. Because of his failure for not being able to defy that damnable improbability from wrongfully taking you away from him.
The Archdevil ran his body haggard like a machine running only on steam, while lamenting over his resentment for fate. He despised how many people threw that detestable word around. As if that was a justifiable reason to accept that your death was meant to be. It was complete bullshit, utterly incomprehensible!
If there was enough time he could’ve cured you. He knew he could’ve saved his dearest attendant. At this point he’ll throw away any sense of morality and go off the deep end. It didn’t matter what he needed to do in order to complete his newest creation. Sure, it may cause calamity and wars between other worlds/nations just because of its god defying existence. But you were worth everything and more.
Stepping towards your encapsulated within in a cyro pod he crafted from scratch. He pressed a hand against the glass a promise escaping from his lips. An almost unrecognizable voice from him misuse full of vulnerability.
“Attendant, I never said you could quit being my assistant. Don’t you know that our contract has no end date? I won’t allow you to rot away. Your rightful place is by my side.”
——-/————-/————
A/n: you’re fine! I’m still in the middle of revising my rules! Also thanks for dropping by XD! As for Nokka let’s just say there’s gonna be a rampaging dragon on the loose. 👀
#Rivius the Archdevil#Nokka the Husband#yandere scientist#yandere devil#yandere monster#yandere blurb#yandere angst#yandere stories#yandere boyfriend#yandere concept#male yandere x reader#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yanderecore#yandere oc#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines
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Winter Activities - Christmas Tree
Logan Howlett • She/Her Pronouns • Mutant!Reader [Speak to Animals/Mind Reader for Animals] • Getting a Christmas tree with Scrooge aka Logan • SFW
A/N: Gonna do a few of these as a Christmas gift to yall. Short n sweet
“Where are you going with that?” Logan questions Y/N as she walks through the mansion with an axe. “Are you reenacting The Shinning?”
“No, I have been tasked to get the tree this year” Y/N smiles proudly, which faltered when Logan gave her a confused expression. “What? Think I can’t handle it?”
“Nah I’m not saying that at all…Just how are you going to get the tree back?”
“I think you forget who I’m friends with” Y/N laughs with a smile making her way to the garage with Logan still following. “If you want to come, you can”
“Don’t want the damn thing falling on you after you cut it”
“Such little faith in me, Howlett” Y/N tsks, setting the axe in the bed of the truck before climbing into the drivers seat.
The drive was quiet, except for Logan occasionally messing with the radio and Y/N humming along to whatever he played. The man desperately tried to skip as many Christmas songs as he could.
“Okay, Scrooge. Just one song” Y/N smacks his hand away from messing with the radio and switching the channel that was playing Last Christmas by Wham!
As the song continued, a smile grew on Y/N’s face hearing Logan hum along to it while watching the scenery go by.
Eventually they reached a spot where it was allowed to cut down the trees. Y/N walked through the forest, axe in hand and Logan following behind her tensing when he heard strange noises in the woods.
“Let’s hurry it up”
“Are you serious?” Y/N scoffs. “Can’t rush the process”
“That ain’t it. There’s something around here stalking us” Logan frowns, his claws extending and before he could even react on the anxiety, he felt Y/N’s hand on his shoulder. Making him tense but also relax when suddenly a bear came through the tree line.
The man with claws has an attitude The bear growls out toward Y/N who only laughed at its words.
“He means well, Blue. You just scared him” Y/N smiles handing off the axe to Logan so she could approach the bear giving it head scratches which in return the bear gave satisfied grumble.
“Forgot you’re practically a Disney princess” Logan leaned the axe against his shoulder watching Y/N continue to pet the bear as she gave him a side eye glance with a smile. “Alright. You going to find a tree or what?”
That question only brought a smile to her features, something he always takes to memory when he sees. He watches the bear turn away from them both and start heading into a certain direction that had Y/N following. Of course the bear knows a good tree.
After finding said tree finally, Y/N was going to cut it down when Logan decided to take care of it. She watches him carefully with a smile while leaning against the bear.
Is this the grumpy one?
“Yeah”
The grumpy one you fancy? The bear roars out at Y/N as she nods with a smile. Is he stupid?
“No! Why would you say that?” Y/N scoffs playfully, earning an annoyed look from the bear.
It’s either he or you, that is the idiot The bear grunts as it scratches the back of its ear with its back foot. He is oblivious to your pheromones. But he is also very obvious with his own…toward you the bear growls loud which caught Logan’s attention instantly.
“The hell the bear saying?”
Y/N didn’t know whether to believe the bear of not but with the thoughts racing in the bear’s mind. She knew it was telling the truth.
“That we owe it a fish for helping us get this great tree”
There was a weird awkwardness that grew after the bear straight up told Y/N what it was thinking and granted she can read animals’ thoughts. Kinda wish she could read Logan’s to see if it’s true on his end. But she’ll manage somewhat…
Returning to the mansion with the tree was met with a lot of joy from everyone who was waiting for the day the tree came. To decorate and smell the fresh pine in the mansion for weeks. As Ororo and Scott handled getting the boxes of decorations while Jean helped the smaller students hang stuff on the tree once the lights were on, Y/N sat on the small stairs to the entrance watching it all unfold with a smile.
From by the tree Rogue watches Logan slowly approach Y/N which prompted her to whisper something to Gambit as he quickly grabbed Kurt. All this unknown to the two.
“You picked a good one” Logan comments leaning against the pillar as Y/N looks up with a smile.
“The bear did”
“Right” He huffs, a hint of a smile gracing his lips as he shifts to sit down beside her. “Still. You picked a good one”
Y/N gave him a soft smile while turning her attention back to the tree with a thought slowly popping up in her mind.
“Logan…?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Why did you wanna come with me? The woods aren’t that scary to me and I would’ve been safe…”
Logan didn’t answer right away as he had to think carefully of his next words, but then Y/N gently rested her hand on his thigh which made all the anxious answers disappear in his head. The look she gave him felt one of longing and genuine curiosity that he didn’t hesitate anymore.
“I like spending as much time with you as I can” Logan whispers for only them to hear and before Y/N could say something to that, they both heard their Cajun friend clear his throat.
As both turned to Gambit, noticing a few more of their friends surrounding him. He points up to the ceiling with a satisfied smirk, making them both look up to Kurt hanging from the rafters but more importantly the mistletoe hanging off the tip of tail right above the two.
Few expecting some protest from at least Logan, they were all surprised when the Wolverine gently took a hold of Y/N’s chin directing her to look at him before pressing his lips softly against hers.
Once they parted the small crowd parted and even one yelled out a “finally” before returning to decorating the tree. Y/N lingered close to Logan for a bit, as she then rested her head on his shoulder as they continued to watch the lives in the mansion continue to decorate.
“I like you too”
Logan looks at her for a second before smiling amused to himself. He gently kisses the top of her before joining her in watching their people enjoy decorating for the holiday.
This year being more enjoyable already
#logan howlett#hugh jackman#wolverine#x men#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fanfiction#brokenmutations
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Eureka is an absolute masterpiece of a ttrpg with so much thought and care put into it. I really can't say enough good things about it. I do want to know if you have made/plan to make any other ttrpgs? I would love to see more genres besides supernatural urban mystery from you because of how quality your work is (but it's completely understandable if you have no plans to do other things).
Thank you! It’s taken us years to refine Eureka’s rules to this level of polish, and I do think it shows! A warning to all other aspiring TTRPG designers, though, don’t make your first project something this big! Keep it short! Not “one page rules” type of short, but don’t be like us and make your first real project a full-on trad TTRPG with this many different moving parts.
If you have aspirations to make something as crunchy and fleshed-out as Eureka, maybe try to execute the concept in a more simpler “OSR” style, and then after you’ve gotten more experience under your belt, maybe made some money and/or gotten a team together, then maybe try that concept again with more crunch. Call it “Advanced [Your Earlier Game Title]”
As for the future of A.N.I.M., we are planning to continually release adventure modules for Eureka, and probably also add-ons like extra Traits, Monster Traits, etc. I would love to include some playable monsters from cultures outside “the west” too, but I wouldn’t want to half-ass them, I’d want to give them as much research, attention detail and themes, etc. that I’ve given to all the other monsters. That’s just a lot harder when the best sources aren’t always in English.
Speaking of shorter games, I already wrote a little tiny game on the side called Edge Hedge Arena.
This is a game where you google “[Your Name] the Hedgehog”, choose one of the many Sonic OCs that are likely to come up, then give them stats and battle them against those of other players using the rules provided.
Since I basically have no more rules to write for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and I’m mostly just waiting for other members of the team to finish working on their parts, I’ve partially moved on to working on A.N.I.M.’s next big game, too!
We’ve learned our lesson, it’s not going to be anywhere near the page count or crunch level of Eureka, even though you know I love crunchy games. Well, actually, it’s probably only slightly less crunchy than Eureka, but it’s about much more specific scenarios, so it’ll still overall have less mechanics. The scope is much smaller.
This is a dark comedy/satire game that kind of takes the Forgotten Realms “evil sexy matriarchal bdsm slavery society ruled by warriors who fight in lingerie” dark elf concept and asks the question of “What kind of society and circumstances would actually produce this?” (Though it doesn’t actually take place in Forgotten Realms or any other D&D setting)
And then makes the comparison to 20th and 21st century American capitalism. “No, these aren’t slaves, they aren’t chained up and are allowed to leave any time they want. But they only get food so long as they keep working, and if they disobey then can get beaten.” It started out as a joke, but we are probably going to add "media literacy" to the list of requirements alongside dice and stuff hahaha, like, the ability to understand that the world of this game is not supposed to represent the author's idea of a perfect society. We might add that to Eureka too.
Silk&Dagger is about class, gender roles, different ways that forced labor can manifest in a society, and most importantly surviving all of those things.
Going forward to understand what I’m saying you have to know that in this setting, “Drow” is a title, referring to the ruling warrior caste. Most Drow are dark elves, but not all dark elves are Drow. This society is structured a bit like ancient Sparta, with a very small ruling caste of warriors, and a very large servant caste. Social mobility between these castes is possible, but rather than getting into it in detail and making this post super long, let’s just say that many servants consider themselves temporarily embarrassed Drow.
A typical “party” in Silk&Dagger is will consist of one Drow PC and any number of servant PCs working for her. There are regular chores that need to be done around the palace, which provide challenges, but scenarios will also throw major issues into the mix.
A Drow’s Reputation is everything, if the Drow PC’s Reputation stat reaches 0, that is the failure state for the entire party, because it basically means no more food. (Even the servants, for lore reasons that I also won’t get into)
So a typical scenario will be like “Somebody very important is coming to visit, but the lower floor of the palace is starting to flood for an unknown reason.” We’re going to have multi-part tables where you can randomly generate these, but we will also have more in-depth adventure modules for it in the future.
We ran a playtest the other day basically based on this scenario. The intended comedy of the game really came out as we kept switching perspectives, with the Drow upstairs having to constantly come up with new ways to impress her guests and explain away that splashing sound while the servant worked down below trying to find and plug the leak.
So, the PCs will have to deal with all that while also making sure that all the chores get done, and the kicker is, they can’t easily communicate with each other. The massive gulf between the two castes is the real enemy here, along with the behavioral expectations placed on each.
They could’ve gotten a head start on dealing with the flooding if the servant had had permission to speak earlier and could’ve told the Drow that the lower floor is flooding, but
There’s a big list of behaviors that a servant has to fulfill when interacting with a Drow, which are basically designed to be impossible to follow and just get them in trouble, and a Drow who doesn’t strictly enforce this etiquette risks losing Reputation for it.
On the other side, Drow also have to constantly embody a list of six features, which basically means acting as evil as possible, their Reputation depends on it.
One other unique feature of Silk&Dagger is that it is a two-GM game. One GM does most of the normal GM stuff, while the other GM represents the ever-present societal expectations weighing on all the characters, subtracting Reputation points and important things every time the PCs do something that makes them look bad in the eyes of this society.
There may come times where PCs will just have to take the hit to get things done, or find clever ways to make it look like they’re upholding the status quo while secretly treating each other like equals when nobody’s looking.
You can expect, like, an alpha or beta version of this game to come to the patreon in probably January or February, and maybe even itchio if it is far along enough by then. It was actually supposed to be out on the patreon in December, but some personal issues and illnesses really held it up. I am really going to try and make it less than 200 pages.
I'll end the post with one of my favorite little bits from the setting/lore. One of the reasons that Drow dress like that is because it helps them identify each other by thermal vision in the pitch black tunnels. Unique patterns of covered and uncovered skin serve as a sort of personal heraldry.
Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but you can still check out the public beta on itch.io to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, etc.!
You can also follow updates on our Kickstarter page where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.
Beta Copies through the Patreon
If you want more, you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy earlier, plus extra content such as adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.
The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club
If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes
Other Stuff
We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.
We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.
#drow#dark elf#indie ttrpgs#ttrpgs#dark elves#rpg#ttrpg#eureka#eureka: investigative urban fantasy#ttrpg tumblr#indie ttrpg#eureka ttrpg#tabletop rpgs#sparta#ttrpg design#ttrpg community#fantasy rpg#dnd#d&d#dungeons and dragons
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you write "enemies to ____" SO WELL. and i've had an AU daydream stuck in my head for a month that is violet as a second year scribe pulled into the revolution bullshit first because jessinia and liam started banging, but mostly because of the suspicion of it all
Oh thank you!! That’s such a fun daydream. Unfortunately, I don’t actually ship Liam and Jesinia, so a full fic with them in it would kick my ass, but you should try your hand at it!!!
Have this drabble as inspo (620 ish words, canon compliant, set during IF part one except Xaden is there because I wanted him to be):
“It’s second year rider business, Jes. I’m sorry.”
Violet peeks her head around the archive’s shelving unit just long enough to watch Liam’s fingers move, then settle. She should retreat back to safety. She should prioritize not getting caught. But she needs to know what Jes says back.
“Last time you had ‘second year rider business,’” Jesinia retorts, hands moving so sharply, they recruit her arms and chest for emphasis, “you came back bloodied and bruised.”
Violet can just make out Liam’s sad smile over the top of Jesinia’s head. The sight of it—that private sweetness—is almost enough to make Violet want to hide back in the stacks. Instead, she settles for pulling her hood higher over her head. If Liam happens to look her way, he might not recognize her if her hair is tucked under the cream fabric.
“A different type of second year rider business,” Liam admits. Somehow, his body language conveys his guilt without any of the usual signifiers. His hands are heavier, his motions softer.
Violet needs to know what it means.
The worst part is, Violet actually likes Liam. He doesn’t have that typical aura of rider arrogance, and he’s so good to Jesinia. If only he wasn’t a liar. Then, he’d be perfect.
Violet fiddles with her hood once more, covering as much of her head as she can. She steps backward, meaning to hide herself behind the shelf once more. She’ll come face to face with her books, and she’ll find one to inconspicuously pull off the shelf. When Jesinia returns from her boyfriend, she’ll be none the wiser to Violet’s scheming, just as it should be.
But, as she spins to face the shelves, there are no books in her line of sight. Instead, her vision is filled with darkness, a black shirt on a broad black chest.
She tries to swallow down her gasp, but she’s too slow. He hears it, and he smirks, relishing her surprise.
“Eavesdropping, Violence?”
“Deserting your post, Riorson?”
His smirk stretches even further across his face at her accusation. Her hate for him flickers in her chest, a twin flame to her annoyance, her invigoration. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m here on dragon business.”
She crosses her arms. He is not in her archives on dragon business.
“Riders aren’t allowed this far back,” she counters, eyes narrowed on him.
He merely cocks his head. He enjoys her scrutiny, too. “Mairi’s back here.”
“Yes, well, we like Liam. He gets special privileges.”
He doesn’t, actually. Jesinia’s completely fucked if any of the other scribes catch on to her study-dates. Of course, Jesinia’s completely fucked in plenty of areas. If her boyfriend’s schemes involve Xaden Riorson, traitor’s son…
Violet can’t think about that when the man is right before her. It’s dangerous. She intuits that much from the sight of the swords on his back.
He plasters a hand on his chest. “You don’t like me, Violence? I’m hurt.”
She’s not sure why his teasing gets her, but it does. She rises onto her toes and slams a finger into his muscled chest.
“I know you’re up to something,” she hisses, “and I am going to find out what.”
His eyes take her in, appraising her in her scribe robes.
“I’m sure you will, Violence.” He steps back, out from under her finger, and nods at someone over her shoulder. Violet spins to find Liam and Jesinia, watching the show. Her cheeks flush pink. She’d rather look at Riorson, so she spins right back around. He’s still smirking at her, bastard that he is. She hears the smirk in his voice as he adds, “Be sure to let me know when you do.”
She watches him leave, Liam at his side. She is going to figure him out.
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Choices
Written using prompts from The Storymatic set.
“Villain, stop!” Hero shouted over the howling wind, “you don’t have to do this!”
Villain turned, tears in their eyes and an incredulous expression on their face.
“You think I want to do this!?” they demanded, the wind carrying their voice and amplifying it so it was like thunder in Hero’s ears, “I’m only doing this so you won’t die! Now get out of here!”
Hero stared, eyes wide and mouth agape. This didn’t make any sense. They threw an ice shard, hoping to break Villain’s concentration. Villain smacked it into tiny flurries that whipped around in the fierce gale.
“Supervillain made it clear, it was either you or the city,” Villain said, their power reaching a crest, “I’m sorry, Hero.”
The wind took on a conical shape, forming a giant tornado. It began to suck in everything in its path. Villain set it loose on the city, then tackled Hero to the ground.
“We need to get to shelter,” Villain said, “any air I manipulate won’t harm me, but it could still hurt you…”
“Get off of me!”
Hero pushed Villain off with hands that were ice-cold, glaring daggers that would make anyone shrink back.
“Look what you’ve done! All those people are going to die, because of me!? You thought I would want that on my conscience!? I’d rather die- literally!”
Villain looked hurt, then their face hardened.
“Well too bad! I’m the only one who’s allowed to be selfish in this relationship! And if I had to choose again, I’d pick you every time!”
“Why!? Why was I even part of the choice!?” Hero demanded.
“Because I love you, and Supervillain knows it!”
Villain didn’t seem to realize what they had said, but Hero certainly did- they were blushing scarlet all over.
“O-oh,” Hero said quietly.
Villain grumbled, getting to their feet and yanking Hero up with them. They embraced them tightly.
“Now, we are getting to shelter, and you are not going to fight me on this. Deal?”
“I can’t just come quietly-”
“Deal!?” Villain repeated, harsher this time.
“No,” Hero sighed, “no, I’m sorry. I have to try and stop it.”
Hero let go of Villain, but before they could break free, there was a sharp prick in the back of their neck.
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Villain sighed.
“No,” Hero said, “no, no, Villain, you can’t do this-”
“Believe it or not, Hero, your little ice tricks won’t do anything against a 300 mile an hour tornado. Shocking, I know. We’re going now.”
“No…” Hero mumbled, vision already starting to blur.
“I’m sorry.”
Hero felt the world tilt on its axis as Villain repositioned them into a bridal carry. They closed their eyes just as the screams began.
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#writeblr#writing#creative writing#hero x villain#heroes and villains#drugging#kidnapping#tornado#air manipulation#ice powers#air powers#hero x villain community#hero x villain snippet#angst#emotional whump
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Hiatus
So… this is a post I’ve been debating with myself these past 2/3 weeks on whether to make or not.
Some of yall may have noticed that I’ve been taking quite a few breaks from s4 and I have unfortunately just finally allowed myself to acknowledge that I’ve hit a bit of a writing block when it comes to my Winx Club rewrite.
I’ve had a few frustrations during s4 (even though I’ve managed to keep my writing up to my own personal standards, it’s been very difficult) and- despite being halfway through the season, unlike past seasons I still have no idea what I’m going to do with s5 and it’s just been getting to me.
And now I am forced to accept that if I keep forcing myself to churn out chapters and stressing out over keeping you all waiting until I’m satisfied with every chapter, the only thing I’ll do is kill my creativity and my love for this rewrite.
I’ve been working on this rewrite for nearly 3 years and it kinda low-key shames me to say that I am officially placing it on hiatus.
To me ‘taking a break’ and ‘hiatus’ are 2 completely different things, I know I’ve taken breaks before but I always had some vague idea of when I’d return but this time… I just don’t know.
I have been working on my Original Novel and works for other fandoms that have just been filling me with inspiration in a way I haven't been able to feel with Winx Club for a bit now.
I hope I have built up enough trust over these past 3 years for you all to believe me when I say that I will be back. I am not the type to leave things unfinished, especially a story that means so much to me and that I am so very proud of and that has helped me grow so much as a writer and has helped me get through some difficult times and express certain emotions and grief in a way I never could’ve if I hadn’t dived into this 3 long years ago.
I was really hoping to post chapters for Xmas and New Years as I have past years but I just can’t- HOWEVER, on January 28th, the third anniversary of Veiled Wings and Shattered Panoramas, I will post… something. I don’t know if it will be a chapter or not but I will do something for the anniversary.
If you wanna know what I’ll be up to; I will be working on my Original Novel since I have finally landed on exactly what idea I want to work on. I will also be working on 2 projects, one for ATLA (Zutara post-canon self-indulgent thingy) and another one that I honestly don’t know if I’ll go through with since it’d be a pretty big project and I’m still thinking about how I’d go about it, but that I am very inspired and excited about.
So yeah, thank you all for your never ending support and- again, I WILL BE BACK, this is not an abandonment of the rewrite, it’s just me having to prioritize my mental health and protect both my love for writing and my love for the rewrite. I’ll be going through my inbox this next week and answer a bunch of stuff that I just haven’t really looked through in a while.
Thank you so much for understanding and for your support. I hope you will wait for the return of the rewrite and that maybe you will give my other projects a chance when I post them. I will be posting a lot of my inner thoughts on the rewrite and my other projects chapters + thoughts on my Ko-fi if you wanna check that out.
I wish you all Happy Holidays!
With eternal love and gratitude,
Yours Truly, Dragonfly
#winx club#winx rewrite#winx#winx headcannon#winx fanfic#winx headcanons#veiled wings and shattered panoramas#Crossroads of destiny and will o’ the wisps#i will return
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If Jungkook went on live and asked toxic fans to stop harassing Jimin I already know exactly the kinds of comments we would be seeing in response -
“the company is forcing JK to say that to protect the company fave” *10k JM company fave posts* *random slurs, animal names, and bongo tweets* “look at how the company is shielding Jimin solos again” “notice how none of the other members are telling their solos to leave JK alone, JK is the only member who cares, the rest of the members don’t care about him, #JKleaveBTS #BTSdisband” “JK is only saying that because he has a kind heart, but I don’t have to be kind like JK, I’m going to protect him by going after the leeches who are trying to take advantage of him”
And then you would see a thousand posts from his solos/diets complaining about why JM hasn’t called out his own toxic fans, saying that he’s a terrible person who approves of PJMs harassing JK (and tkkrs and other solos would join in and pile on adding how JM doesn't care about the hate that TH/YG/other members receive from PJMs either). And definitely some PJMs would play into it and gloat about JK hating his fans but JM loving PJMs or something. It would be a whole mess, and for what?
JK asking fans to stop going to his house and to stop sending things didn’t work, JK saying artists are innocent didn’t even stop some ARMYs from talking about nwjn's a certain way (I don’t mean simply disagreeing with him, I mean some ARMYs outright dismissing his words and being condescending towards him about it, some were even resentful and leaving rude messages on his IG).
Pretty sure that solos/tkkrs would find a way to twist it to be even more hateful and unhinged towards JM. I mean tkkrs quite literally came up with a whole conspiracy theory so they could twist and dismiss anything they don’t like in BTS content (company forced fanservice ship, tkk hidden couple) and they include weverse lives in this now. How do you even combat that?
The people who want to believe a certain narrative will just twist whatever they want, dismiss whatever words and actions they don’t like to suit whatever narrative they want to push. Anyone who thinks that JK doesn’t like JM (and vice versa) is already extremely biased and irrational, you can’t really reason with that. JK has already done and said x100000000 things that contradict those narratives and they still just ignore it, and his haters never give him credit for it and expect him to do more. Not to mention people like that do not respect or care about JK in the first place, they just want something from him - to live vicariously through him, possess or own him, use him for whatever fantasy.
I mean sometimes I do want (all of) them to address toxic fans and I wonder why they haven’t, but I can also sort of see how it wouldn’t really change much and tbh I just assume that the seven of them have probably talked about this and have some mutual understanding on how they decide to handle it. And like I said JK asking his fans to leave Jimin alone would just result in another unhinged response from those groups of people and JM would be expected to also immediately make a statement or be painted as a terrible person who doesn’t care about JK getting harassed either.
This discourse is really tired and it’s sad the kind of expectations people place on JK about all of this, not even just to call out antis but never being allowed to tease or joke around, being blamed when antis twist his words, having the burden to prove that he doesn't hate his bandmates for some reason placed on his shoulders (even though he HAS proved that, they just don't listen to him). I expect it from solos, but every now and then I have seen some jikooker's also be weird to him about it and it's just really frustrating. Most people I see have just been celebrating and enjoying his live though!! Sorry for the negativity but I wanted to say something too because I can literally picture EXACTLY the kind of things they would be saying and no doubt it would just be another fandom headache.
#discourse#just some yapping#the other post i rebogged#talks about this waaaay more in depth and wayyy better than me#but like i can just sit here and picture#the exact responses we would be seeing if he said something#for real the expectations ppl place on jk are ridiculous#jikook#free all of them omg#i'll make a fun post soon to counteract this drama post#jungkook
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I wonder what Haz wound be like if his SO got pregnant. Like imagine his big ol hands holding a tiny little baby.
How hazard would be with a pregnant S/O
Hazard would probably be a mix of awe, nervousness, and overwhelming protectiveness when he finds out his SO is pregnant. At first, he'd be stunned—this isn't something he thought would happen, but once it sinks in, he'd be fiercely devoted to ensuring everything is perfect.
His personality would take a softer turn, especially around his SO. He'd become hyper-vigilant, making sure they're comfortable, safe, and well-cared for. Whether that means running out at odd hours to grab whatever craving strikes or gently scolding them for overexerting themselves, Hazard would be all in.
When the baby finally arrives, seeing him with such a tiny, fragile little being in his big hands would be an adorable contrast. He'd handle them like they're made of glass, his gruff exterior melting as he whispers to the baby or rocks them to sleep. Hazard might not admit it outright, but he'd spend hours just staring at the baby in disbelief, marveling at the fact that something so small could mean so much.
Despite his tough-guy persona, he'd be completely smitten—probably to the point where anyone who so much as jokes about the baby gets a death glare. He’d still carry his usual edge, but now with an added layer of “don’t mess with my family.”
(Lil Scenario cuz why not 👹)
The soft hum of the television was the only sound in the room as Hazard dozed on the couch, one arm slung lazily over his eyes. The day had been long, and he’d finally allowed himself to relax. But his peace was shattered when he heard the sound of shuffling footsteps.
He cracked an eye open to see you standing in the doorway, hands resting on your growing belly, a determined look on your face.
“Hazard” you said firmly.
He groaned, covering his face with his hand. “What now, love? I’m tryin’ tae sleep.”
“I need strawberries. Dipped in chocolate. And some salty chips.”
Hazard let his hand drop, staring at you in disbelief. “Strawberries? In the middle o’ the night? Ye ken the shops are closed by now, aye?”
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “The baby wants them. Are you going to deny your own child?”
“Ach, there it is” he muttered, sitting up with a sigh. “Blamin’ the bairn again, are ye? Not like ye weren’t the one who ate half a jar o’ pickles this mornin’.”
“Hazard!” You whined, your pout deepening.
He groaned as he got to his feet, running a hand through his messy hair. “Right, fine. Strawberries, chocolate, an’ chips. Salty ones, no sweet. Anythin’ else while I’m out wanderin’ the city like some daft idiot?”
Your face lit up with a smile. “That’s all. Thank you.”
“Aye, aye” he muttered, grabbing his coat. He paused at the door to shoot you a smirk. “Ye’re lucky yer cute, else I’d tell ye tae wait till mornin’.”
====
It took him longer than he’d like to admit, but Hazard returned triumphantly, carrying a bag of goodies. He’d even managed to find a 24-hour café that sold freshly dipped chocolate strawberries, though he’d had to endure the strange look the barista gave him.
He dropped the bag on the counter and held up the small container of strawberries. “Here ye go, love. Freshly dipped strawberries, chips, an’ a bonus bar o’ chocolate for good measure. Don’t say I never do anythin’ for ye.”
You gasped, taking the strawberries with a grin. “You’re amazing. Thank you so much!”
“Aye, amazing’s one word for it” he muttered, watching as you bit into a strawberry with a contented sigh. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. “Ye’re lucky I love ye. Or I’d have left ye tae dream about these bloody things instead.”
You smiled at him, your eyes soft. “You’re going to be such a good dad, you know that?”
His ears turned red, and he quickly looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “Ach, don’t get sappy on me now. Eat yer strawberries afore they melt.”
But as you laughed and continued to eat, Hazard’s lips curled into a faint smile. Maybe all the late-night runs and strange cravings weren’t so bad after all.
#overwatch#overwatch 2#hazard overwatch#overwatch imagens#overwatch x reader#overwatch x you#hazard x reader#headcanon#request#fav request
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