#im running out of things to post clearly

[sunnifer]

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[kabhi-haath-pakad-k-tu-mera]

Every time I come across a 'Hindu mythology aesthetic moodboard' I go through the stages of grief.

[cameatslemons]

mouthwashing post. jimmy is a raging narcissist and im tired of people trying to give him benefit of the doubt. his inability to see two feet beyond what immediately concerns him dooms everyone on the tulpar, and even in the end, he only really cares about himself.

big list of all his narcisstic bullshit below bc im here to motherfucking prove it (mouthwashing spoilers of course)

most obviously: everything is a personal attack on him. EVERYTHING. you can see it most clearly at the birthday party; while everyone else is understandably freaking out about being laid off, jimmy starts telling curly off and insulting both him and everyone else at the table, as if being laid off is a personal attack on jimmy specifically. it doesn’t matter that anya has nothing to go back to, that swansea’s life is thrown away- jimmy is the ONLY victim here, apparently. curly is personally responsible for getting laid off, in his eyes.

i don’t actually know the words for this but the way he’s constantly going “i have to do EVERYTHING around here”- again, feeling like its a personal attack to be asked anything at all. anya asks him to take care of curly because her entire fucking life is falling apart, its her end of days, but somehow shes the villain for struggling.

also the general antagonization of anya. she’s extremely competent for the hand she was dealt! shes too poor to attend med school yet shes very knoqledgable in medication and wound care! and yeah no shit shes struggling now, someone she cared deeply about is suffering immensely and now the ship is being “run” by a man who assaulted her. no fucking shit shes breaking down. but jimmy makes it clear time and time again that this is somehow her fault, all this shit of “shouldn’t nurses EARN their titles?” while she’s having a mental breakdown.

similarly, swansea being villainized for holding the cryopod for daisuke and killing him. like, i get it, but jimmy’s whole thing of saying he can fix daisuke is… c’mon man. he’s a hero to himself, he “always” fixes things the same way he “fixed” the ship, and he will fix daisuke and claim heroism even though it’s very clear nothing else can be done for him.

“someday you’ll thank me” while forcing curly to eat his own leg. the incredible confidence that he is in the right even when literally torturing someone.

MOST IMPORTANTLY: the final scene with curly burning. jimmy doesn’t earnestly believe he has anything to be sorry for. even when apologizing to curly he says “we can BOTH be heroes!” despite everything, he still thinks he’s in the right. he STILL thinks he’s a hero, because he’s right, he’s ALWAYS right, surely. he can apologize and grovel all he wants but in the end he still thinks he’s the hero of this story; he doesn’t genuinely think he has anything to right, he’s only doing this to be freed of consequence. and/or believes a simple “sorry” is enough, that it can fix completely ruining the lives of four people with his own inferiority complex.

i do think the choice to put curly in the pod instead of himself is the only time he recognizes his own guilt, if any. maybe it’s realizing that he DOES need something more than a simple “sorry” to even begin to try to fix things, maybe it’s that he thinks this will cement him even further as a hero. even then, does this fix anything? all it’s doing is making curly suffer more. is this actually a good thing?

to him, he’s the hero here. he always is. crashing the ship is a heroic thing, putting all his crewmates through hell is a heroic thing. all because something nobody can control is somehow a personal attack on jimmy.

not to mention all the “hallucinations” he has- it’s what he thinks should happen, it’s what he wants to hear. curly still calling him a friend, the dead corpses of his crewmates praising him, even in the final cutscene with curly burning where he says “no, YOU take the pod”. none of it’s real. it’s just what jimmy thinks is “right”. despite everything, he thinks everyone should thank and praise him, because he can do no wrong.

conclusion: jimmy is a narcisstic piece of shit.

[trinnityn]

Caitlyn Kiramman HCS

Warnings: SFW + NSFW 18+ content below. View with discretion. possesive!cait, she fucks you with a gun at some point, Reader and cait are married, shower sex

A/N : lowk short cause i was lazy but i wanted to post this 💙 please dont flop.

SFW

LOVES waking up next to you, and she's definitely a huge morning person cause of that sole reason. yes, she hates work and all the stress that comes with it but getting to wake up to her wife after an amazing night of sleep? thats reward enough for her. probably the only thing she thinks about whenever shes on her way home the only thing she dislikes about your mornings together is whenever she leans in for a kiss and you whine about how you just woke up and think you're too messy, cause. so what? she sees nothing but perfection, even in your worst.

"goodmorning, darling."

"cait i just woke up im all gross-"

"you mean to say you're absolutely exquisite, and yes cait i want a kiss."

"dont ever speak ill of yourself, love."

Speaking of so, she always has something to give to you whenever she got home from a long day at work. it doesnt matter how tired she is. you were mentioning a craving of yours at the morning? immediately getting it after work. hell she'll even go as far as buying flowers or something even more expensive than just food. she just loves spoiling you.

has a habit of grabbing or squeezing your waist tighter whenever she sees someone even glancing at you longer than 10 seconds. she grew up spoiled and basically getting everything that she wanted, in result, she becomes very possesive of the things she has. including you, her dearest, most precious asset.

"cait.. stop squeezing so much. im not going anywhere."

"he was gawking at you, like you're some object."

would beg you for a massage daily or just to play with her hair. would sometimes over exaggerate how tiring her day at work was just to get extra effection from you.

gets SUPER whiny for some reason whenever you dont have your ring on. its like, everyone has to know she has a gorgeous wife, right? thats her wife. always uses the reason that "it compliments your pretty hands.", always kisses every individual finger before sliding the ring back on. she likes to think shes proposing to you again.

"will you marry me?, my lovely wife?"

NSFW

loves tying you up and taking full control. something about it makes the heat pool up in her stomach, and to think that she has power over you makes everything all the better. when shes desperate enough, her handiwork doesnt have to be perfect as long as you're restrained, but when she takes her time? trust it'll be hell. being fully undressed as she works to tie different ropes all across your body, your wet, sopping cunt grinding against the rope between your legs as you squirm for the slightest bit of friction. she'll make sure to punish you for that, though.

VERY dexterous with her hands, better than her strap by a slight difference. has basically fingered you everywhere in the kiramman house. bedroom? had you on her lap as she basically probed and bruised your cervix before having to leave for work. kitchen? bent over and begging for it as she just slipped them in and out of you. bathroom? held you against your back with the shower running, the cold water washing over the couple as she parted your folds, taking her sweet time.

Got jealous of some other girl clearly trying to get in your pants while she turned away for a few minutes at a social event she took you to. even in a prestigious, sophisticated soiree filled with distinguished leaders, politicians she still couldnt hold back her greed. her greed for you, and how much she despises even the sight of you near another person that isnt her. she threw you right on the bed before having your skirt bunched up on your waist and getting your brain fucked dumb with her 8 inch royal blue strap. rubbing your clit in small, tight circles before pushing your panties aside when you were wet enough to plunge straight in your wet heat, taking a moment to adjust before setting a harsh, and punishing pace.

fucked you with a gun once at her desk. sprawled out and shivering at the cold air as she eased the pistol's barrel in and out of your pulsing cunt, your wrists grasped in a tight, almost brusing hold as she held them above your head, whispering into your ear breathlessly keep you on edge.

"good girl, taking my gun well.. what if i just.. pull the trigger? no? then take it and stop squirming, darling."

A/N: thinking of making a fic out of that last one OHHHHH lord. i already have a draft saved LOL

-XOXO, trinnifer💋

[snoopychris]

phone calls

warnings: slight mommy kink, edging if you squint, misuse of technology, lowkey inspired by this post

12:04 

chris

chris

baby

12:05

hello?

it’s cold

and raining

12:06

can you just come let me in

12:07 

dude the gym closes at 1:30 so that they can do a midday clean btw.

12:08

hello???

????

omfg 

you piss me off

12:09

HELLO?!?!?!?

are you fucking kidding me

you’re unbelievable 

12:10

whatever i’m going home 

text me if u want.

you spun swiftly on your heels, the light jacket you were wearing wrapped tightly around your frame. it was never normal for chris to not answer his texts, especially when he got so many of them. especially when they were from you. when you were halfway down the stairs, the door behind you swung open. the heavy breathing that was coming from chris quickly got your attention. your immediate reaction was that he was having some sort of asthma attack. 

your worry subsided when you noticed the small wet spot that was on the front of his sweats. he swallows in embarrassment, licking his lips as he looks down at the floor in shame. no words are spoken, but his expression says everything it needs you. he moves away from the door, leaving enough room for you to walk inside. when he sits down on the couch, he still hasn’t made eye contact with you. he’s too embarrassed to even acknowledge your presence. 

“what happened here?” you tease, sitting besides him on the couch. his boner is still clearly pressed up against the material. chris shrugs as he mindlessly turns the tv on, purposely ignoring you and your question. maybe if he stays silent you’ll ignore both the tent in his pants and the wet spot that seemed to be growing. “chris.”

“nothing. nothing happened. my phone was just dead.” he whispers, crossing his legs in attempts to cover himself up. your eyes furrow in confusion. had you mentioned his phone? 

“chris…” you pry, tossing the pillow off his lap. he whines in frustration, throwing his head back. he could try to lie his way out of the situation, but he knows there’s no use. 

“well! it’s just… you took way longer than you said you would and i was just getting so frustrated and i haven’t seen you in a week so i started looking at our pictures while i was jerking off and then when you started texting me… it felt good. and i was reading all your text i was! and then i was getting so close and you said you were leaving and i didn’t want you to go so i just… and now… im just. i was so close to cumming and i didn’t okay?!” chris doesn’t even realize how much information he just gave you or what you can do with it. not until he sees the wide smirk on your face. there’s so many different things running through his mind. the most prominent is how incredibly hard he is and how he can’t do anything to fix it right now.

another whine escapes from the depths of his throat when you tug his pants down swiftly, his lack of underwear doing him no favors at all. he wants to tell you to stop– not because he actually wants you to stop but because hes embarrassed by the situation at hand. he squirms at your touch, thrusting his dick against your hand. his tip is embarrassingly red from his unintentional edging earlier, and its covered in so much precum and spit that it seems like he had been at it for hours. when you let him go, his cock slaps against his hoodie covered stomach. no matter how desperately he wants to touch himself and bring himself to the orgasm hes been so desperately craving for what felt like ages, he knew you held the power right now. 

“please… please baby please help me.” chris mumbles, letting out a gasp when you begin to giggle. you were being so cruel to him right now. how was he supposed to act normal and stay quiet when you were just laughing at him and not even helping?

“wheres your phone?” you ask, searching around the couch. chris scrambles to reach into his pocket, handing you the phone with shaky hands. you grab it carefully, holding it up against his length. he was a bit bigger than his phone, but he wasn’t paying much attention to your actions. all he was trying to do was reach the feeling he had been yearning for. chris only starts to pay attention when you grab your own phone and begin to dial a number. he wants to ask who you’re possibly calling in this moment, but he quickly pieces it together when his phone begins to buzz while pressed against his tip. 

there’s a groan that leaves his lips that’s a lot louder than he wants it to be. he doesn’t care right now. right now he just cares about the fact that your call got sent to voicemail and the buzzing halted. “no no nooo!” he whimpers, reaching for your wrist to move it for you. you tsk and shake your head, handing him your phone. “go ahead. call me again. you want it so bad you can work for it.” tears of frustration form in his eyes at your words. fine.

with shaky hands, chris picks up your phone, pressing the call back button. with each ring on your side, the vibrations seem to be getting stronger on his. he knows it’s not possible, but it feels like which each buzz the feeling is getting more and more intense. he lets out a small cry after the fifth or sixth phone call, his cock beginning to twitch between your hand and his phone. 

it’s pathetic, almost, given that it’s only been about two minutes of constant weak vibrations. you almost want to show him sympathy. he must’ve been a lot more desperate than you had expected if he was cumming this soon. “please… fuck mama please let me cum.” he whispers, his hips thrusting up to meet the vibrations all the way through. “y’gonna cum for me? you gonna make a mess all over your phone? imagine what people would think if they knew you used your phone as a sex toy… how would that make you feel? like a desperate little slut?” you reply, clicking his contact on your phone once more. the vibrations start up again as chris moans, nodding his head rapidly. “please! fuck please please.” he whines, biting his lip. his orgasm hits him faster than he expects, because within seconds of his last plea, white spurts of his cum are coating his phone case. it’s a sight you wish you could’ve recorded but both of your phones were occupied. 

it takes chris a second to catch his breath. it takes you a second to comprehend the situation that just went down. you shrug it off— it’s not the weirdest thing you’ve ever done. as you gather your thoughts next to him, you lay your head down on your boyfriends shoulder. “so like… are we still going to the gym or are we gonna go to best buy and get one of those waterproof cases?”

a/n: please nobody talk to me after this one. thanks and apologies in advance.

dividers by @13hoax and @bernardsbendystraws

tags: @mattybsgroupie @whore4mattsturniolo @sosasturns (for the 1 mili party) @darksturnz @surprisecurlyfriesbackup @ribbonlovergirl @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbratt333 @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @ayesha-eroticaa @bluessturniolo @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @marrykisskilled @cykss

[polarisjisung]

ꨄ I'M JEALOUS AND I'M GOING CRAZY

BACKSTAGE WITH IDOL BF JISUNG

pairings: park jisung x fem! idol reader genre: fluff wc: 0.9k warnings: jealousy (it's cute tho I promise!) + they makeout notes : found this hidden away in the drafts guys.. no idea if it's proofread 🧍‍♀️| LIBRARY

EDIT!! if you saw the drama mentioned in the notes... no you didn't I DO NOT SUPPORT yk who's behaviour and COMPLETELY forgot to take it out before posting, im very sorry gang 🙏

Jisung is confused. Beyond it in fact.

"Just tell me what it is," his voice echoes, earning a few too many unwanted stares as he runs down the hall.

Oh, the things he does for you

You're not letting up, and he's been trailing after you ever since you decided that running through the multiple empty dressing rooms backstage was a good idea, for whatever reason.

Well, you weren't really running, more so speed walking away from him, weaving in and out of hallways and doors.

Had it not been for your practically fluorescent outfit from the stage you'd just performed, he'd barely have been able to catch sight of you bolting away from him in the first place.

Jisung's certain you'd never been this fast before, practically out of breath from following after you.

Combined with the fatigue from his performance a few minutes ago and trailing after you like a lost puppy, Jisung begins to grow tired

Again he's not entirely sure why you're doing it, or what you're doing really, but if it has anything to do with the small pout on your lips and the slightly puffed out cheeks you wear then maybe Jisung has a few ideas

it doesn't take a genius to figure out something has you upset, not upset in a heartbroken way, or else Jisung would have noticed any tears threatening to spill from your eyes, but more in a way that somethings bothering you.

Though it doesn't matter much to Jisung just how upset you are, clearly not very, all that does matter is that you are.

And usually Jisung was an expert at reading you, knowing what was wrong like some psychic mind reader with a purple globe in his palms with one single glance at you— if you'd just look at him— which you hadn't since the good luck kiss he'd planted on your cheek before you went up on stage exactly an hour ago.

When he stepped off stage today, ready to pull you into his arms and let himself bask in the sweetness of your praise, telling him how well he did on stage, you weren't there and Jisung's big gummy smile dropped at the sight of you, straight faced lying across the couch in his dressing room instead.

Honestly speaking, he had no idea what could have possibly gone wrong in the last hour, but he was certainly determined to find out.

"You guys did great out there" you smiled as the group of 7 piled into the room, genuine but small, congratulating all of his members, as you usually did, only you didn't spend any time gushing over him.

Safe to say your boyfriend had noticed, and now, as you find yourself reaching a dead end with no escape, you know you're going to have to come face to face with Jisung, and the ugly green feeling bubbling inside of you

His arms hang low at your waist when he finally catches you in the middle of your dressing room, a slight smirk across his lips at the victory of stopping you from running away.

"Look at me baby" his two fingers hold your chin to guide your head so it would tilt upwards and face him.

"What's up?"

You shake your head, gaze darting left and right to avoid his eyes. Jisung chuckles to himself

"Tell me what's wrong, come on, please?" he follows your eyes as they change direction, shifting so he's the only thing in your line of sight.

You sigh, crossing your arms, lips protruding outwards, "You'll laugh, Sung."

Gosh, Jisung just wants to smash his lips against yours— but there are bigger problems at hand– like his awfully pouty girlfriend standing sulking in front of him.

"You know I'll never laugh at you," he says, soft and kind. You hate that it makes the ugly feeling inside of you grow stronger.

Why did he have to be so damn sweet?

"Well, uh-" you hesitate "it's nothing, I was just being silly Sung" you nod your head, as if to convince yourself but Jisung pulls you back before you can even attempt to walk away

"If it made you upset its not silly okay, now tell me, what's got my girl like this hmm?"

"Next time you're on stage," you sigh, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. "Roll your sleeves down." Your eyes meet the floor at the request, Jisung staring down at his arms

"That's it?" he holds back a laugh, though his lips can't help but curve upwards, and his eyes fill with adoration at the sight of you so shy.

"Well I don't exactly want everyone staring at my boyfriend and his pretty arms, you're already perfect as it is" you protest, tone completely sincere "you don't need to be perfect for anyone but me" you huff, crossing your arms as you decide you've said enough.

Apparently not.

"You should've heard the girls backstage checking you out every time your muscles flexed." Your eyes roll, and Jisung can't help but find it cute, the disgusted scrunch of your nose.

He extends his forearm out to you, smiling.

"These arms are all for you, okay? so you can roll my sleeves down just as far as you'd like."

"Don't have to ask me twice," you mutter under your breath, just loud enough that he hears, tugging at the material that rested mid way up his arm.

"Yeah?" he chuckles again, "well, next time, tell the girls backstage too, " he smiles. "I'm all yours"

You hum, you could do one better, "let's show them instead."

You practically eating his lips off in the music bank hallway was not part of Jisung's agenda tonight, but he can't help the feeling of content that washes over him as you roughly move your lips over his, fingers interlaced with his, putting on an absolute show for everyone who'd walk past. With his sleeves rolled all the way down, of course.

Couldn't put too much of a show on now, could you?

God Jisung loves when you get all jealous over him

tags: @yizhrt @suzayaaa @nanawrlds @sinisxtea @dearlyminhyung @flaminghotyourmom @jisworlds @jenobubbles @nctdreamchaser @lotties-readings @mystverse @chenlezip @blondemrk @17ericas

[strwberri-milk]

Hi! Love you writing and the way you portray the lnds boys. I've read the rules, and i want to make a request if possible. How do you think they would react if, during sex the reader felt pain but didn't tell them? What would they say when they see it?

Sorry if my English is bad. I am still learning, and reading on Tumblr has helped a lot, so I read good fics like yours 😅

It's okay if you feel uncomfortable with the theme

Anyway, thanks for reading my message ❤️❤️❤️

no worries!! im glad my posts help you learn english but pls do not learn engl from my author notes/rambling posts bc i promise you they are NAWT written properly LMAO0O also this is only mildly suggestive but im gonna stick the entire thing under a cut in case

Zayne hears the sharp intake of breath when he slides in, immediately pulling himself back out to ask you what's wrong. You try to tell him that it's nothing and you'll be fine and he should just keep going but he can't continue knowing he accidentally hurt you. He'll slowly reassure you that it's okay for you two to stop. He wants to find another way to make you feel good without hurting you, hands immediately running over your body again as he slowly works to bring back the pleasure in your body.

Xavier didn't realise you weren't feeling as good as he was until his hand feels how stiff your hips are. He'll remain still, trying to figure out what the problem is as you try to tell him that you're okay. He doesn't quite believe you, deciding that clearly he's hurting you more than making you feel good. He just wants to cuddle you now, mood totally gone for him as he hates the thought of hurting you in any capacity.

Rafayel notices the second you start to feel pain, removing himself from you and asking why you're hurting. He's very insistent so you do end up having to tell him what the problem is, Rafayel mad at himself for not realising that you weren't quite ready for him. He should have spent more time preparing you and makes up for it by kissing you breathless, lips trailing all over you as he works to better prepare you this time.

Sylus doesn't expect the sharp intake of breath, you hoping that it sounds like every other time he slides it in. Of course he does - he sees everything whenever it's about you, body attuned to everything you are. He doesn't say anything though, not wanting to make you feel some sort of way if he draws too much attention to it. You can feel him switching back into foreplay, gently seeking out your consent as he showers you with attention.

[tpwk-formula1]

Hi could I please order this:

Lando Norris, Thick Crust, Red Sauce, Garlic, BBQ Chicken, Sun-dried tomatoes, Root beer, Water, Mango Smoothie, Yes

And could you maybe add a little age gap in there if that's possible. Thank you. 😌

AN: Kinda embassing I did this big ole thing saying 'IM BACK" and then proceeded not to actually be back. Anyways I'm writing this Friday the 10th so as you can see I am preparing myself. I don't know if Im back for sure for sure to be 100% honest my mental health has been declining and my drive to write has been lack. I have tomorrow off and I plan to write most of the day to get ahead of posts!

TW: daddy kink, kinda "ditzy" reader, unprotected sex, breeding kink, baby talk, creampie, slight edging talk, sugar daddy (KINDA)

WC: 1.4k

thick crust sugar daddy red sauce rough sex garlic "I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy with my cum" BBQ chicken “Gonna let me cum in you? I know you wanna have my baby” sun dried tomatoes "Gonna look so pretty pregnant" root beer daddy kink water breeding kink mango smoothie baby trapping dessert yes served by Lando Norris

Y/N POV

"Lando, are we done at the shops?" I ask softly as we exit another shop Lando had managed to convince me to go into on our day out.

"What's got you in such a hurry?" Lando asks back smirk clearly knowing exactly what I'm wanting.

"Don't tease. You spent all morning between my thighs without release," I reply back in a low whisper making sure no one walking the Monaco streets can hear the very private conversation.

"Who's to say I'm gonna give you that release now," Lando says with a teasing smirk while we continued to walk towards where we had parked the car.

"Cause whether you admit it or not, you love watching me cum," I say with a smirk while opening the door to the McLaren and hoping in. Once I was seated in the passenger seat Lando leans down popping his head into the car before placing a small kiss on my lips.

"I do love watching the way your eyes roll into the back of your head when you cum for me," Lando whispers against my lips making me whine slightly and try to lean into Lando's lips for another kiss but he's pulling away slowly with a small laugh falling from his lips.

"You'll have to wait baby," Lando says in a teasing voice while closing the car door and making his way to the driver's side.

When we finally make it to Lando's apartment I'm unbuckling and ready to hope out the car before Lando had even put the car fully in park.

"Such a whore you're in this much of a hurry?" Lando says with a smirk making me roll my eyes and jump out of the car before rounding it to Lando's side and pulling him towards me.

Once Lando and I standing chest to chest my hands quickly find the back of his neck as I try to pull him towards me.

"Please daddy," I whine still trying to pull him towards me.

"Let's get inside the apartment first," Lando whispered back starting to show signs of being turned on.

We both quickly make our way up to the apartment my hand never leaving his and when we get inside the apartment Lando quickly has me pushed up against the door.

"Fuck, you look so fucking good in this dress," Lando groans against my lips while running his hands up and down my thighs.

"Thanks daddy, you bought it," I whisper back while letting a teasing laugh fall from my lips before finally pulling Lando in for the kiss I had been wanting for all day.

I moan into the kiss when I feel Lando's tongue tangle into mine. When Lando's hands wrap around the back of my thighs I jump into his arms wrapping my legs around his waist and letting him carry me into his bedroom.

“Gonna let me cum in you tonight? I know you wanna have my baby,” Lando groans against my lips making me whimper and nod.

While all of this had started as a friends with benefits with a bit of a sugar daddy twist we had quickly fallen into a routine that became clear we were each other's person and more than just a friend. Now being together for more than two years we have finally been able to play into our breeding kink.

"Please daddy. I wanna feel your cum filling up my pussy," I whimper back into his mouth. I can feel Lando grinding into my core through our clothes making me whimper.

"Please daddy, I can't take anymore teasing," I whine trying to grind my hips into him harder.

Lando finally sits up a bit and pulls his shirt off before pulling my dress up and off my body with a bit of my help. When he sees that I'm not wearing a bra or any panties under my dress Lando can't help the moan that leaves his lips.

"My pretty slut. You walked around all day letting your pussy juices drip down your thighs all day," Lando says with a smirk while letting his fingers lightly trail over my hardened nipple.

"You had me too flustered after this morning," I admit sheepishly trying to burry my face into his neck but Lando holds me back making sure I can see his smirk, before he plants a soft his on my lips before letting them trail down my jaw and neck.

"Oh Lan," I moan softly when his mouth finds one of my nipples. This only encourages Lando travel farther down my body and once his mouth finally touches my throbbing clit I can't the moan I let out.

"Fuck, already so wet for me," Lando says with a smirk while running his fingers through my drenched fold before dipping two of his thick fingers into my desperate hole.

"So good," I moan loudly when Lando's fingers graze my G-spot at the same time his tongue takes a long lick at my clit.

It didn't take long for Lando to bring me close to the edge given all the teasing Lando had put me through this morning. I knew he wasn't gonna let me cum that easy but I can't help the loud whine I let out when he pulls away from my desperate pussy.

"Lando, please! I need to cum," I whine trying to grind my hips up trying to get some kind of stimulation.

Lando finally gives into my pleas because he stands up for a split second to pull off his pants and boxers before climbing back into the bed and almost instantly running the hard tip of his thick cock through my folds before pushing in filling me up completely.

"Fuck, gonna look so pretty pregnant," Lando grunts while fucking into me at a harder pace clearly thinking about what I may look like when I get pregnant with his kids.

"Fuck daddy, harder," I moan arching my back off the bed slightly, letting Lando hit my G-spot at the new angle he is fucking me at.

"Fuck, I can feel you clenching around me. Tryna milk all my cum huh?" Lando grunts out teasing me slightly only driving me even closer to the edge.

"Yes daddy! Please can I cum," I beg feeling tears start to well up in my eyes from holding back from cumming for so long.

"Cum for me and then beg for my cum," Lando grunts making me whimper before I feel his fingers start to tease my clit throwing me over the edge almost instantly.

"Oh fuck, thank you daddy!" I cry out in a moan feeling my orgasm come in waves while Lando continues to milk every last bit of pleasure out of my body.

"Please fill me up with your cum," I beg softly letting my post orgasm haze set in. I can feel Lando's thrusts start to shutter before I feel one final thrust deep into my pussy and Lando filling me up with his warm cum.

"Mm, thank you, Lan," I mumble pulling Lando in for another kiss moaning when I feel one final rope shoot into my pussy.

"I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy with my cum," Lando teases while pulling out of my pussy making me whimper slightly when I feel my pussy clench around nothing.

Lando quickly collects some of the cum from my leaking pussy before fucking it back into my pussy. I whimper when he grazes my G-spot before slipping his fingers out and teasing my clit for a split second before pulling away.

Lando leans down over my body and places a few soft kisses along my face before finding my lips.

"I love you," Lando tells me softly against my lips making me smile softly.

"I love you too!" I say back with a bright smile starting to spread across my face.

Lando climbs out of bed and finds a a clean towel coming back into the room and softly cleaning me up while he praises me for doing to good.

Once he's cleaned me up enough he grabs a pair of clean boxers and throws them on while finding one of his shirts and making his way back to the bed and helping put it on me.

Once we both get settled into bed I can help but feel a sense of contentment wash over me.

"Will you finally move in officially?" Lando asks softly while running his fingers through my hair.

"Only when you finally get me pregnant," I tease with a smirk on my face. Lando just rolls his eyes and laughs lightly.

[hereforuconnwbb]

The Study of Us - CHAPTER 5

paige x azzi (pazzi)

au fic!

word count: 10k

warning: language

hey guysss !! i was planning to edit this tmrw after finishing my schedule, but honestly thats probably gonna take forever and tmrw is gonna be a long day for me 😭 so i js pushed through the drowsiness and edited the chapter now to finally post it. i feel bad for delaying releases so much lately 😓 its almost 12 rn while im writing this note but im scheduling this to post at 12:30am not like that rlly matters but if there are any mistakes or parts that dont add up, js um pls ignore them—i am half asleep while doing this ABSAHHSA anywayssss i hope you guys enjoy and tysm for being patient 🫶🏽

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There were very few things Azzi enjoyed more than sleeping in on a Friday morning, especially when she didn’t have class. No alarms. No deadlines. Just her, her pillow, and a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

That is until her door nearly exploded.

BANG BANG BANG

“AZZIIIIIIII. OPEN UP. I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE.”

Azzi groaned, yanking her comforter over her head. “Goddamn, Caroline…”

BANG BANG

“I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL PICK THE LOCK. YOU KNOW I KNOW HOW—”

Azzi flung the blanket off, shuffled out of bed with all the grace of a sleep-deprived zombie, and opened the door with a slow, dramatic pull.

Caroline stood there, too bright-eyed for someone who had clearly been awake for hours, wearing leggings, an oversized UConn hoodie, and a knowing-ass smirk. Phone in one hand. Coffee in the other.

“Good morning, my beautiful sunshine,” she sang, stepping inside without waiting for an invite.

Azzi scowled and shut the door behind her. “You’re psychotic.”

Caroline beamed, completely unbothered. “Aubrey texted me.”

Azzi froze mid-turn. “…About what?”

Caroline dropped herself onto Azzi’s desk chair and spun in a half-circle. “About you. And Paige. And about the—what was it? 3 hours? Yea I think 3 hour tutoring session you had last night. And the pizza. And the Uno.”

Azzi sighed, dragging her hand down her face. “It was not 3 hours—”

“Azzi. It was 3 hours,” Caroline deadpanned.

Azzi flopped back onto her bed, pressing a pillow over her face. “Why is everyone making this such a big deal?”

“Because,” Caroline said, crossing her legs, “you never hang out with anyone that long. You barely even tolerate me for 3 hours.”

“True.”

Caroline glared. “Rude.”

Azzi cracked a smile under the pillow.

“So?” Caroline said, kicking Azzi’s foot. “How was it? What happened?”

Azzi lifted the pillow just enough to breathe. “We ate. Talked. Played Uno. Studied.”

“And?”

“And… that’s it,” Azzi shrugged.

Caroline gave her a look. “You’re being vague on purpose.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” Caroline said. “Because I know you. You never just talk to people. You don’t really talk to anyone unless you’re comfortable. And you’re not exactly the ‘let’s play Uno and bond over pizza’ type unless something’s different.”

Azzi stared at the ceiling.

Caroline smirked. “Is it still awkward?”

Azzi hesitated. “Less.”

“Oh ?” Caroline leaned forward dramatically.

Azzi sat up, running a hand through her messy morning hair. “It was awkward at first, but… not in a bad way. I don’t know. She’s actually different in person.”

Caroline raised her brows. “Different how?”

Azzi didn’t answer right away. She thought back to Paige last night, curled up with her hood down and glasses on, talking about her siblings, quietly listening when Azzi talked about her family and basketball. The way she’d smiled when Azzi joked about beating her in 1v1. The way she laughed when she lost in uno and threatened to throw the whole deck.

“She’s just… more real than I thought,” Azzi said quietly.

Caroline tilted her head. “Real like…?”

Azzi rolled her eyes and got up, walking over to her dresser. “Why are you analyzing everything I say like I’m on a therapy couch?”

“Because I’m your best friend and this is so much more interesting than scrolling on insta.”

Azzi huffed a small laugh.

Caroline grinned. “So? What do you think of her?”

Azzi glanced over her shoulder.

Caroline’s grin widened. “You like her, don’t you?”

Azzi turned back around quickly. “We’re just getting to know each other.”

“That’s not a no,” Caroline sang, giddy.

Azzi didn’t respond. Her heart felt annoyingly warm and fluttery and she hated that Caroline could see through her like a glass door.

Caroline leaned back in the chair. “It’s just funny how every time I ask you to come to a game, you’re suddenly busy or you have ‘homework’ or you’re too tired. But Paige asks? Boom. You’re in.”

Azzi crossed her arms. “I was gonna say no.”

“But you didn’t.”

Azzi rolled her eyes again, cheeks faintly pink.

Caroline sipped her coffee with a smug look. “You know, it’s kind of hilarious. You’re usually the most unbothered person I know. But now? Look at you. Blushing and awkward.”

“I’m not—”

“You are. Fully.”

Azzi sighed dramatically and sat down on the bed again. “Whatever.”

Caroline softened a little. “So you’re really coming?”

Azzi nodded. “Yeah. I said I would.”

Caroline smiled, this time less teasing, more genuine. “Good. It’ll mean a lot to her.”

Azzi blinked. “You think?”

“I mean even though Aubrey and I asked her to tell you, do you really think Paige just invites anyone to her game?” Caroline said

Azzi didn’t have an answer to that. Instead, she grabbed the pillow again and hugged it to her chest.

Caroline stood and headed for the door. “I’m telling Aubrey you’re officially down bad.”

Azzi groaned. “Don’t you dare.”

“Too late.”

“CAROLINE—”

The door slammed shut with Caroline’s cackling echoing down the hallway.

Azzi sighed again, falling back on the bed.

—---------------------------------

The second the doors to Gampel opened and that familiar blast of cold air hit her face, Paige felt her brain officially switch to game mode.

It was 2 pm. 3 hours to tip.

She walked in with Caroline and Aubrey, all of them still in sweats and slides, bags slung over their shoulders. They didn’t say much, didn’t need to. The place just had a vibe on game days. Everything buzzed.

The second they pushed open the locker room door, the noise hit.

Ice and KK were playing some weird game of reflex catch with a rolled-up pair of socks. Sarah had both legs up on the wall doing stretches while scrolling on her phone like she wasn’t upside down. The others are doing their stretches.

Caroline took one look and muttered, “Circus.”

“No place like home,” Aubrey said, grinning as she kicked her slides off.

“Yo, Jana,” Paige called, already unzipping her bag.

Jana looked up.  “You ready?”

“Yep.”

Jana grabbed her comb and stood behind her, already parting Paige’s hair.

Paige sat still, phone in her lap, as Jana’s hands moved. She always liked getting this part out of the way early. Hair done. Locked in. No distractions.

Ayanna walked past and clapped Paige on the shoulder. “You better show out tonight. Geno’s already in his pacing era.”

“He’s pacing at 2?” Caroline said.

“Full-on hallway laps,” Ayanna  replied. “He yelled at Ice for chewing too loud.”

KK snorted from across the room. “It was one cheeto bro.”

“Yall are cursed,” Jana muttered, finishing the last braid and tying it off. “Okay. You’re good.”

“Bless you,” Paige said, standing and stretching her neck. “I’m gonna go sort out that ticket thing real quick.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow. “For Azzi?”

Paige froze mid-step. “…yeah.”

Aubrey immediately perked up. “We’re coming.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes we are,” Caroline said, already pulling her sweatshirt back on. “We wanna witness.”

Paige groaned. “It’s literally just a ticket.”

“You’re personally escorting her to the bench,” Aubrey said dramatically.

“I’m making sure she doesn’t get stuck in the student line.”

“Mhm,” Caroline said. “So romantic.”

“Can’t believe we’re third-wheeling to the box office,” Aubrey muttered as they walked out.

“Y’all need help,” Paige said, but she didn’t stop them from coming.

They crossed the main hallway and turned into the little hallway where the ticket box was set up for player comps. It was quiet, just one event staff guy at the desk.

He looked up and smiled. “Hey, Paige.”

“Hey,” she said, stepping up. “I just wanted to make sure a name got added. Azzi Fudd.”

He scrolled through his list. “Yep. She’s on here. One comp ticket. You want her behind the bench?”

“Yes, please.”

“She need a pass for tunnel entry?”

“Yea.”

“Got it. I’ll leave it at security.”

“Thanks,” Paige said.

Behind her, Caroline stage-whispered, “Wow. Behind the bench and a tunnel pass.”

“She’s so special,” Aubrey whispered back.

“Ok, shut up,” Paige muttered, cheeks warm.

As they walked back toward the locker room, Paige pulled her phone out and typed fast.

Paige: ur all set—come thru the player entrance & tell them ur name. theyll give u a pass n walk u down. u will be behind the bench

The reply came quick.

Azzi: ok cool ! thanks i cant wait ☺️

Paige stared at her screen for a second too long, smiling like an idiot.

“Did she text back?” Caroline asked, peeking.

“Mind your business.”

“She did,” Aubrey said. “Look at her face.”

“She’s blushing.”

“I’m not.”

“Azzi’s got you in a chokehold,” Aubrey said, grinning.

“She does not”

“She does,” Caroline said. “And honestly, it’s kinda adorable.”

Paige shook her head and pushed open the locker room door again.

“Y’all are worse than Geno.”

“Geno doesn’t call you out when you get all heart-eyes,” Aubrey said. “We do. You’re welcome.”

“I hate both of you,” Paige said, dropping back onto the bench.

She didn’t. Not even a little.

—---------------------------------

Azzi backed away from the mirror and stepped into her baggy jeans, loose and frayed a little at the knees, then slipped on her fresh white AF1s. Classic. Reliable. A little creased but still got the job done. She looked down, gave her outfit a quick once-over in the full-length mirror on her door. Oversized hoodie, chill jeans, clean kicks. Comfortable but not sloppy. Casual but… ok, maybe a little cute.

But whatever. It wasn’t for anyone. She was just going to a game. A basketball game. Just to watch. That’s it… Well, maybe there is a reason.

She grabbed her small crossbody bag, double-checked that her student ID and phone were in there, then slipped in her lip balm and airpods for good measure..

A small little jittery feeling crawled under her ribs as she walked out the door.

—---------------------------------

The closer she got to Gampel, the louder everything became—students yelling across the sidewalk, music from somebody’s speaker, the steady hum of gameday energy. It was barely 4, and the lines outside the arena were already long, stretching past the fencing with people buzzing about seats and rankings and starting lineups. She could see the security checkpoint from the road. The air was cool but not cold, and people were already filing in through the main entrances.

Azzi bypassed the crowd, headed toward the smaller side door—the one Paige told her to go to.

She had to show her ID twice, and the security guard looked skeptical until she said her name.

“Oh,” the woman said, flipping through a clipboard. “Fudd, right? Got you here. You’re with player comps. You’re good.”

She handed Azzi a pass on a lanyard and pointed toward the tunnel.

“Just walk straight down. Someone will meet you at the end to bring you to your seat in the section behind the bench.”

“Thanks,” Azzi said, slipping the lanyard over her hoodie.

She followed the path inside, the noise of the crowd behind the walls growing louder with every step. She passed volunteers setting up last-minute signage and workers wheeling coolers and towels toward the team hall. Everything looked busy. Real. Like a behind-the-scenes of a movie, except everyone had a job and no one was pretending.

As she reached the mouth of the tunnel, she slowed down.

The court was right there. Empty for now—no players, no layup lines, just a few staff in polos walking around, checking things off clipboards. The arena lights were already blazing, bleachers half-filled and still moving. Students were trickling in. Families and season ticket holders were already chatting and pointing. One little kid in a No. 5 jersey ran past, trailed by a tired-looking dad with a soft drink in each hand.

Azzi stood off to the side, unsure if she should keep walking or wait. A staff member spotted her and walked over.

“You Azzi?”

“Yeah.”

“Right this way. You’ll be just behind the bench. You’re early, but that’s good. It gets crazy in here fast.”

Azzi followed, heart thumping way harder than she expected. It wasn’t nerves, she wasn’t nervous. Not really. Just… out of place.

The staff guy pointed her to a seat directly behind the team bench.

Azzi sat slowly, eyes scanning the whole space. Gampel looked different from down here. Bigger. Brighter. Louder, even though it wasn’t full yet. She rested her hands in her lap, curling her fingers around the fabric of her hoodie sleeves, and tried not to smile too much.

Behind the bench. Just like Paige said.

She let her eyes wander the court again, then up toward the tunnel on the far side.

Still no players out.

But soon.

—---------------------------------

5 minutes later, the lights dimmed just slightly and the music shifted to something deeper, bass-heavy. The student section roared.

South Carolina jogged out first, shoes squeaking loud as they fanned out into layup lines. The cheers were mixed—loud, but not for them. More like respectful hype. Some boos too, mostly from the students already fired up.

Azzi leaned back in her seat, watching. They looked sharp, no doubt. Big. Fast. Focused.

And then exactly five minutes after the place exploded.

Cue the hype music. Cue the lights shifting again. Cue the announcer’s voice booming over the speakers.

“HERE COME YOUR UCONN HUSKIESSSSS!”

The tunnel across the court erupted, and the team ran out in a wave—Paige leading the team, followed by Ice, KK, Caroline, Aubrey, and the rest. The noise was unreal. Azzi flinched at how loud it was down here.

She stood halfway, not sure if she was supposed to. Paige hadn’t even looked her way yet—none of them had. They were all in that pregame zone, clapping, calling plays, running straight into warm-up drills. It made her grin. They moved like they belonged. Like they owned the place.

A few minutes passed then Caroline glanced over mid-drill and did a double take. Her whole face lit up.

She jogged over first, grinning and breathless. “Ok, you’re officially the most committed tutor I’ve ever seen.”

Azzi laughed. “Gotta keep my clients in check.”

Aubrey appeared a second later, pulling up beside her with a grin. “You look good! Not, like—you look good—like you look good here. This is so cool.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh. You almost stuck that landing.”

“Shut up,” Aubrey said, bumping her shoulder. “She’s coming. Brace yourself.”

Azzi didn’t have to ask who.

Paige had peeled off from the group, jogging over with a slight smirk, ball tucked under her arm

“Hey,” she said, voice a little breathy from drills.

“Hey,” Azzi said back, smiling.

They hesitated for half a second then Paige leaned in, and Azzi hugged her. It was quick but warm, familiar. Paige held on a beat longer than necessary.

Behind them, Caroline immediately made a sound like a dying seagull. “Awwwwwwwww”

“Tragic,” Aubrey added. “She’s down bad.”

“I am not,” Paige said, pulling back but very much still standing way too close.

KK appeared like she’d been summoned by the drama, spinning a ball on one finger. “Ooooo we really doing hugs now? That’s cute.”

Ice showed up behind her, sipping from a Gatorade like it was tea. “What’s next? Matching jewellery?”

Paige groaned and stepped away, dramatically throwing her hands up. “Y’all need to worry about your own business.”

“We are, that’s why we’re invested,” Ice said.

Azzi laughed.

“Okay, okay,” Caroline said, backing up. “We’ll leave you alone now. Just don’t make out in front of the children.”

KK saluted Azzi as they trotted back toward drills. “Good luck, scholar. You’re doing the Lord’s work.”

And then it was just Paige and Azzi.

Paige rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry. They’re… always like that.”

“I kinda love it,” Azzi said. “Feels like a sitcom. A slightly chaotic one.”

Paige chuckled. “Yeah. Welcome to the show.”

Azzi tilted her head. “So. You remember what I said last night?”

Paige blinked. “Uh… which part?”

She crossed her arms, mock serious. “If you play shit, I’m not tutoring you anymore.”

Paige put a hand to her heart. “Wow. Cold.”

“But…” Azzi’s eyes sparkled a little. “Put on a masterclass…”

Paige’s grin turned smug. “And we hang out after the game.”

“Exactly.”

“Define your version of masterclass.”

“Score a bunch. Flashy passes. Maybe make someone fall. I want drama.”

Paige nodded solemnly. “Say less.”

Azzi lifted her brows. “No pressure or anything.”

“Oh, I’m pressure-proof,” Paige said, backing away toward the court. “Just wait.”

Azzi watched her jog back into the drill line and shook her head, still smiling.

—---------------------------------

The pregame announcements came and went in a blur of thunderous applause, blinding lights, and player-by-player videos flashing across the screens. UConn’s starting five had been called—Kaitlyn, Paige, Ashlynn, Sarah, and Jana—each jogging out to their own roar, each moment louder than the last.

Now, the energy in Gampel had hit that strange, electric stillness that always came right before tip-off. Like a held breath.

The court was polished to a shine, the reflections of the overhead lights rippling off the hardwood in slow motion as the players took their positions. South Carolina huddled near their bench, focused and bouncing on the balls of their feet. UConn mirrored them.

Azzi sat forward in her seat, elbows on her knees, eyes locked on the court. Or more accurately… on Paige.

She was in her element now—shoulders rolled back, stance low and ready, head slightly tilted like she was listening to something only she could hear. Her jersey fit perfectly. Obviously. But something about the way the lights above caught her arms, casting shadows under each line of muscle, made Azzi’s thoughts derail for a second. Maybe even longer than a second.

She wasn’t trying to be dramatic. Really. But the lighting in this arena? Insane. She could practically sketch out the definition in Paige’s arms just from the way the overheads hit them. Her arms were flexed, loose but brimming with potential energy, the way athletes looked when they were seconds from exploding off the ground. Even the veins on her forearms were visible, subtle but right there, and Azzi had to drag her eyes away before her brain gave up entirely.

Unfortunately, she didn’t drag them fast enough.

Caroline, perched at the end of the bench just a few feet away, half-turned and caught the look on Azzi’s face.

“Oh my God,” she said under her breath but not quietly enough.

Aubrey leaned over behind her. “What?” she whispered back, eyes scanning and then landing right on Azzi’s very, very red face.

“Oh my GOD,” Aubrey repeated, laughing this time.

Azzi’s head snapped around, lips already parting in protest. “Don’t.”

“No, no, it’s cute,” Caroline whispered, clearly not about to stop. “That was a full-on thirst face. Like, textbook.”

“I was not—” Azzi’s voice squeaked, which didn’t help her case.

“She was admiring the… ‘lighting’” Aubrey said, using air quotes and everything.

“It’s excellent lighting,” Azzi muttered, tugging her hoodie sleeves over her hands like they might hide her mortification.

“It’s ok,” Caroline said, barely holding in a grin. “I stare at her arms in practice all the time. It’s healthy. Builds character.”

“Yea same” Aubrey added.

Azzi buried her face in her sleeve.

“God, yall are terrible,” came in Ice, from two seats down, who must’ve caught enough of the exchange to weigh in. “Let her blush in peace.”

“She’s got front-row view of the gun show, what do you expect?” KK added from beside her, sipping from her Gatorade again.

Azzi didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She was too busy trying not to pass out from secondhand embarrassment.

And then the ref blew the whistle for tip-off.

A ripple of noise surged through the crowd, a wave of cheers rolling up from the student section like thunder. Kaitlyn stepped to center court for the jump, crouched, poised. Paige was already bouncing on the balls of her feet, smirking at her matchup like she was born for this.

Azzi peeked up through her fingers.

Paige glanced toward the bench and for a split second, their eyes met.

Azzi wasn’t sure if Paige could see her blushing from there, but the little smirk that tugged at her mouth?

It said yes.

The ball was tipped, and the game began with a burst of adrenaline that pulsed through the entire arena. Jana got her fingers to it first, tapping the ball back to Paige, who immediately corralled it and pushed up the court to a roar from the crowd.

Azzi sat on the edge of her seat, practically vibrating.

From the jump, South Carolina came out locked in. Their defense was tight, switching everything, bodies quick to rotate, hands always in passing lanes. UConn’s offense opened a little jittery—hesitations, missed timing on cuts, a rushed shot or two. And Paige… Paige looked like she was pressing.

Azzi noticed it instantly.

She still looked good, poised, focused, but there was something off in the rhythm of her game. A half-second delay in decisions. A loose dribble here. A contested pull-up that bricked long. Not bad, just… not her usual smooth.

By the third possession, Paige had missed 2 jumpers, both slightly off-balance. She passed up a look from 3, choosing instead to drive and kick to Aslynn in the corner who missed.

South Carolina was capitalising early, too. A fast break off a turnover turned into a clean and-one finish, and UConn trailed 9–3 before they could get settled.

Geno stood with arms crossed, deadpan. “Let’s settle, huh? Find a flow. Let the game come to you.”

Paige nodded, but Azzi could tell—she was in her head.

She kept glancing toward the sideline. Not overtly. Just little looks. Between free throws. After a whistle. That barely-there flick of her eyes toward the bench and just past it.

Toward Azzi.

Azzi flushed every time it happened, like she’d been caught eavesdropping on a secret.

Caroline, now seated two down from Coach, leaned back during a break in play and whispered to Aubrey, “She’s tight. You see that?”

“Yeah,” Aubrey said. “She’ll settle. She’s just trying to act normal with her here.” She tilted her chin toward Azzi without looking.

Azzi caught it. She pretended not to.

Midway through the first quarter, UConn had made some changes. Still, the Huskies couldn’t get their rhythm right. The passes were clean, the movement was there, but it didn’t click yet.

By the end of the first quarter, the score was 16–12, South Carolina up. Paige had just 2 points on 1 of 5 shooting.

Second quarter, it started to shift.

Not all at once but in moments. 

Paige called a high screen and crossed over into a hesitation step-back, nailing a mid-range jumper over the outstretched arms of the defender. She didn’t celebrate but she looked straight to the side of the court again.

Right at Azzi.

Azzi raised her brows. Smiled. Gave her a small nod.

Paige cracked the tiniest smirk before turning and jogging back on defense.

It built from there.

A backdoor cut caught South Carolina off guard, and Paige hit Kaitlyn on a dime with a no-look bounce pass for an easy two. The crowd roared.

On the next possession, Paige pushed in transition, split two defenders with a lightning-quick change of pace, absorbed contact, and threw up a scoop off the glass—

Whistle. Bucket.

“AND FUCKEN ONE!”

The scream cut through the arena like a blade. Paige banged her fist into her chest once, fire in her eyes. The student section lost it.

Azzi blinked, caught between shock and—yep. That was hot.

Caroline turned halfway around, caught the expression again, and just snorted.

“Pray for her,” she murmured to Aubrey. “She’s a goner.”

UConn closed the quarter strong. Ashlynn hit a corner three off a skip pass. Paige pulled off a slick behind the back dribble that had her defender stumbling. The bench exploded. Even Coach Geno surprisingly cracked a small smile as the lead trimmed to two before the half.

Halftime score: 34–32, South Carolina still ahead.

But momentum? Shifting.

The third quarter opened like a different game.

Paige didn’t hesitate now.

She wasn’t thinking anymore, just hooping.

She blew past her defender early in the quarter with a hard right drive, finishing with a reverse that spun off the glass and went in perfectly. The next trip down, she sized up a slower defender in isolation and drilled a stepback 3 with a hand in her face. Bang.

The crowd went absolutely wild.

Paige smirked, holding up 3 fingers as she backpedaled.

Azzi jumped to her feet without even realizing it.

By now, the bench was up on every play. Morgan and Aubrey waving towels, Caroline yelling, KK throwing up 3 fingers after every 3 point shot Paige hit.

Which kept coming.

A fast break? Paige picked the pocket clean, weaved through 2 defenders, euro-stepped around a third, and finished with finesse.

Then, late in the quarter, a hesi-crossover-spin move that left her defender frozen. Paige went up strong through contact, landed awkwardly but the shot dropped.

Whistle.

She didn’t say a word—just smirked, rolling her shoulder forward in a slow, deliberate flex. Then she pounded her chest twice, her eyes saying everything her mouth didn’t.

Azzi just about melted into her chair.

Caroline didn’t even try to be subtle. She turned full-body and said, “Be honest. You’re making out with her later, right?”

Azzi covered her face. “Caroline!”

“Just checking.”

Paige ended the third with 24 points and counting.

4th quarter?

A clinic.

She was everywhere. Her footwork was surgical, her vision insane. She skipped a pass through 3 defenders for a layup, then came down and hit a transition 3 in rhythm off a kick-out from Sarah. The team was cooking.

Geno didn’t sub her once. He didn’t need to.

Final minute, Paige hit a deep 3 from the top of the key to seal it.

32 points.

Gampel was shaking.

The buzzer sounded, and the final score lit up: UConn 74, South Carolina 65.

Paige stood near mid court, hands on her hips, chest heaving, the crowd roaring around her. Her teammates mobbed her—chest bumps, shoulder slaps, screams.

But once the initial chaos died down, she pulled away gently. Walked toward the sideline.

Toward Azzi.

She looked nervous now, like the adrenaline had dropped just enough to let the rest of her rush in. Her hair was damp, sweat still clinging to her neck, but she had that grin. That stupid, crooked, overly confident one that almost hid how unsure she really was.

She stopped in front of Azzi, still catching her breath.

“So…” she said, voice light but a little unsure. “About that hangout. Or… what do you think?”

Azzi smiled, heart thudding in her chest. “I think you earned it.”

Paige’s grin went bright.

Before she could say anything else, Caroline popped up between them like she’d been waiting. “Okay lovers,” she gestured toward Aubrey and Ice, who were now approaching too,  “we’re all hitting Ted’s after. So she,” she pointed to Azzi, “is walking with us to the locker room, and you,” she turned to Paige, “are gonna meet us outside.”

“Wait, me?” Azzi blinked.

“Yeah, we’re just grabbing our stuff. Be quick,” Aubrey added. “You can wait by the tunnel. VIP access.”

Azzi hesitated, then nodded. “Ok, yea. Cool.”

“Cool,” Paige said, clearly trying not to look too pleased. “See you soon.”

Caroline pulled Azzi along with them toward the tunnel, throwing a wink back at Paige as they walked.

Paige stood there, wiping her wrist across her forehead, still riding the high of the game, the crowd, the win.

But her eyes?

They were only on Azzi.

—---------------------------------

The locker room buzzed with chatter and laughter as the team's victory sunk in. The players were all talking, half-showered, still catching their breath from the frenetic pace of the game. Paige, however, was in her own little world, the high of the game still pulsing through her veins. Her teammates had already started to scatter, some heading straight for their things, others lingering in the hallway.

She quickly finished wiping down with a towel, the heat from the shower clinging to her skin, but her mind was elsewhere on Azzi. The idea of spending time with her after the game had her stomach doing backflips. She couldn’t explain why she was suddenly so nervous, considering she had just put up 32 points in a game that felt like a war. It was almost funny how her brain switched gears so fast—one moment, she was locked in the zone, the next, she was just a girl hoping Azzi would say yes.

As she walked to the locker room exit, she found Caroline talking to Azzi near the tunnel, laughing and chatting. Caroline gave her a knowing look, a smirk pulling at her lips. “You two better make it quick,” she said, as if she had orchestrated this entire thing.

“Don’t worry, I got this,” Paige said, trying to sound cool, but there was no hiding the excitement under her voice.

Azzi smiled as she approached, still in her game-day hoodie, her hoodie strings pulled tight against the slight chill of the hallway. “You did great out there,” Azzi said, her voice calm but sincere.

“Thanks,” Paige said, her grin spreading. “I had a slow start, though. Just needed to get into a rhythm.” She shrugged, hands on her hips as they made their way outside the arena, the cool night air hitting them.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Slow start? That’s one way to put it. But you definitely found your groove. I was impressed.”

“Hey, I’m not perfect,” Paige said, rolling her eyes. “But you know how it is. Nerves. Playing in front of everyone with… you know, you in the crowd.” She didn’t really know how to say it without sounding like a total mess, but Azzi just nodded like she understood, no big deal.

They made their way down the street, with Azzi walking just a little bit ahead of Paige. Azzi was quiet, observing the world around her with the calculated calm she always carried with her. Even now, after watching Paige play, she was still analyzing, assessing.

“So, yeah,” Paige started, trying to fill the silence, “what did you think of my shooting tonight? I felt like I missed a bunch early, but I found it eventually.”

Azzi glanced over at her, her lips curling into the smallest smile. “I mean, you were taking shots from everywhere. Some of them were a little rushed early on, but you adjusted. Your footwork on that step-back three was solid. You just need to stay patient and trust the shot.”

Paige felt a little relieved, hearing Azzi’s constructive take on it. She didn’t want to come off like she was fishing for compliments, but it felt good to hear that the tweaks she’d made in her head were obvious to Azzi.

“Yeah, I was thinking too much,” Paige admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “Once I stopped caring so much about… I don’t know. I could just play. It’s like something clicked. Then, I couldn’t miss.”

Azzi nodded. “That’s how it goes. Sometimes you’ve got to let go of all that extra stuff and just play.”

They arrived at Ted’s, the place where their team frequently hung out after big games, and Paige immediately ordered hot chips for the table. It wasn’t even a question—she just knew Azzi liked them. She didn’t need to ask. They slid into the booth, a comfortable space, away from the chaos of their teammates who were already deep into drinks and dancing.

Azzi slipped her hoodie off, revealing the black cropped tank beneath. Her arms were toned, and the cool air inside the restaurant made her look effortlessly chic. She adjusted her seat, her gaze falling on the other girls as they shouted and laughed at the bar.

Paige grabbed a shot, but as she took it, Azzi raised a hand. “I’m not drinking,” she said lightly, and Paige immediately set it down, her expression flickering with surprise.

“Alright, no drinks for me either,” Paige said with a shrug, pushing the shot glass away. “Guess we’re just here for the chips then,” Paige added, giving her a wink.

Azzi snorted, looking over at the table as the drinks continued to flow. “You sure about that? Because it looks like half the team is planning on taking shots ‘til they pass out.”

Paige laughed, leaning back in the booth and trying to get comfortable, even as her teammates got more rowdy. “I don’t need to be that wild. Maybe I’ll just have a few more chips instead.”

“Right,” Azzi said, sipping her water. “Because chips are so much better than shots.”

The server came over, bringing the massive bowl of hot chips to their booth, and Paige eagerly grabbed a handful. They ate in quiet contentment, the conversation ebbing and flowing, sometimes about the game, sometimes about nothing at all.

The team’s energy was infectious, but Azzi and Paige were perfectly content in their little bubble. Paige’s arm found its way over Azzi’s shoulders, a natural motion, something unspoken, as they both relaxed into the quiet moment, watching their teammates in the distance.

Azzi leaned in a little, her cheek resting against Paige’s shoulder, the gesture so simple, but it felt like they had been doing it forever. Paige’s heart fluttered at the gesture, but she didn’t overthink it. She simply put her arm around Azzi like it was the most natural thing in the world.

—---------------------------------

As Paige and Azzi continued to settle into their little corner of the restaurant, the noise from the team started to blur into a distant hum. It felt like they were in a bubble, just the two of them, a quiet, contented space that Paige had no intention of leaving anytime soon. Paige’s arm was still casually draped over Azzi’s shoulder, and the contact felt so natural, like it had always been this way. Azzi had leaned into the touch, her head resting lightly against Paige’s shoulder, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.

The clinking of glasses and laughter from the rest of the team rang out across the room, but it felt like they were in a world of their own. Paige’s heart raced a little faster every time Azzi shifted slightly closer, and she had to stop herself from overthinking it.

Just as Paige was about to say something, Caroline’s voice cut through the cozy atmosphere, full of energy and more than a little tipsy.

“Hey, you 2!” Caroline’s words were a little louder than intended, and her presence swayed across the booth like a gust of wind. She was grinning, clearly enjoying the drinks she’d had so far. She leaned in toward the 2 of them, practically collapsing onto the table with a half-laugh, half-giggle. “What’s going on over here, huh? You 2 lovebirds look way too cozy.”

Paige immediately felt her face heat up. She was trying so hard not to overthink it with Azzi, but now Caroline’s teasing was making it ten times worse. “What are you even talking about?” Paige’s voice was a little higher than usual as she glanced at Azzi, who remained leaned against her shoulder.

“I mean, look at you two,” Caroline teased, waving a hand around dramatically, her eyes sparkling from the alcohol. “You’re, like, totally in sync right now. This is a new level of cute. Someone get the cameras, I’m shipping it.”

Azzi, though her face was flushed from the warmth of the moment, just rolled her eyes with a tiny smile. “You’re drunk, Caroline.”

“Am not!” Caroline retorted immediately, before bursting into a fit of giggles. “Okay, maybe I am. But seriously, you 2? This is precious. It’s like you’re both the same person but in different outfits, you know?” She looked between them, giving them a knowing wink.

Paige couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re insane, Caroline,” she muttered, but the smile on her face betrayed her.

Caroline leaned forward, elbows on the table, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “No, I’m right, Paige. I know exactly what’s going on here. I’ve seen this movie. You’re, like, one step away from making it official. I’m here for it.” She raised an eyebrow, clearly proud of herself for her “wisdom.”

Azzi, still tucked into Paige’s side, let out a soft laugh. “Well, you’re wrong, but thanks for the insight.”

Caroline tilted her head dramatically, as if considering this. “Ok, ok, I get it. No labels. Yet.” She sat back, pouting slightly before giving Paige an exaggerated wink. “But you gotta admit, it’s pretty cute.”

Before Paige could respond, Aubrey came swaggering over, clearly on a mission. She was holding a tray full of shot glasses in one hand, her other arm draped over a teammate who was stumbling behind her. “Shots, anyone?!” Aubrey announced loudly, her voice booming across the table.

She slid into the booth beside Caroline, her grin mischievous. “Paige, I know you usually don’t pass up a drink after a game, what’s up with you tonight?” She eyed the untouched beer in front of Paige with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not telling me you’ve gone soft on me now, are you?”

Paige’s lips parted, unsure how to answer, but Azzi’s voice cut in before she could. “She’s just here with me,” Azzi said with a shrug, a soft smile playing at her lips. “No need for the shots.”

Aubrey raised an eyebrow, glancing between the 2 of them, clearly sensing something more than. “Ohh, I get it now,” she said with a teasing tone, but she was far too drunk to make it anything more than a playful remark. “You 2 are real cute. Alright, no shots for you then.”

Caroline laughed and stood up, wobbling a bit. “Imma go join the others,” she said, clearly not paying attention to the fact that she was still holding onto a shot glass. She waved, drunkenly tipping over to another table. “Enjoy,” she called out, giving them both a cheesy wink before stumbling away.

Aubrey lingered for a moment longer before turning to Paige with a raised glass. “Don’t forget, you’re still my partner in crime, alright?” She smiled and then wandered back into the mix of the team, disappearing into the crowd.

As soon as the noise of the bar filled the space again, Azzi finally leaned back into Paige’s side, her cheek resting lightly on Paige’s shoulder once more. Paige smiled down at her, her heart still racing from the attention, but also grateful for the quiet.

“So,” Azzi said, her voice soft but clear. “What do you think? Ice cream?”

Paige blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Ice cream?” she asked with a smile, still processing the energy of the last few minutes.

Azzi nodded eagerly, her excitement apparent. “Yeah, I’m craving some. I don’t know why, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Paige grinned, feeling a spark of energy at the idea. “Well, if you’re craving it, I’m definitely down.” She gave a quick look to her teammates still sitting at the table—Sarah, Allie, and Morgan—who weren’t drinking and were busy having a quieter conversation. Paige stood up, grabbing Azzi’s hand with a soft tug. “Let’s go tell them, make sure they’re cool, and then we can head out.”

Azzi looked up at her, her eyes lighting up at the idea of leaving the craziness behind for a little while. “I’m so down.”

Paige waved to the table of freshmen, who were all sitting together, and walked over to them with Azzi at her side. She leaned in and whispered, “We’re heading out for ice cream, you guys good here? Make sure everyone else is fine, alright?” She glanced back at the table full of noise and chaos.

Sarah, Allie, and Morgan looked up, nodding with understanding. “Yea, we got it,” Sarah said with a grin, her eyes glancing over at the wild energy of their teammates. “Go get that ice cream, we’ll make sure the rest of them don’t do anything stupid.”

Paige smiled and gave a quick nod before turning to Azzi, her heart racing with excitement. “Alright, let’s go.”

Azzi gave her a smile that made everything feel even better. “Let’s get ice cream.”

The night air hit them as soon as they stepped outside, crisp and cool against their flushed cheeks. The sky was a deep navy, scattered with stars barely visible against the glow of the campus lights. Paige immediately reached for the zipper of her jacket, tugging it up just a bit, but next to her, Azzi shivered slightly.

Without a word, Azzi pulled the same hoodie she’d worn earlier and slipped it back on. Her fingers worked quickly, tugging it over her head before she stuffed her hands into the front pocket with a little sigh. The hoodie was a bit oversized, the sleeves just brushing her knuckles, and it made her look even cozier. Paige glanced over, smiling quietly to herself.

“Cold?” Paige asked, even though it was obvious.

Azzi nodded, blowing out a puff of air that hung briefly in front of them like fog. “I thought it was gonna be warmer tonight. Rookie mistake.”

“You were inside a packed restaurant full of drunk 20-somethings,” Paige said, nudging her lightly with her elbow. “It probably felt like summer in there.”

Azzi gave a soft laugh, bumping her back gently. “Yea, well… my body regrets that confidence.”

They started down the path toward the main strip near campus, their steps naturally in sync without either of them trying. It was one of those peaceful silences, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. Paige kept glancing sideways at Azzi every now and then, not even meaning to—just checking in, like her brain hadn’t caught up to the fact that they’d actually left together. Just the 2 of them.

“You ever notice how food cravings hit way harder after games? How I felt back in my basketball days.” Azzi asked suddenly, her voice casual.

Paige grinned. “Literally every time. I’ll finish a game, chug half a Gatorade, and 10 minutes later I’m like, ���You know what sounds good? 17 pancakes.’”

Azzi snorted. “You would eat 17 pancakes.”

“If the stakes were high enough? Hell yea.”

“What stakes would require 17 pancakes?”

“World peace. Or, like… if someone dared me.”

Azzi laughed, the kind of laugh that crinkled her eyes and made Paige’s chest feel a little too tight for a second.

They turned the corner toward the strip of late-night food spots, the ice cream place glowing warm and welcoming. It was mostly empty inside, just a couple people scattered in booths. Paige held the door open, letting Azzi step in first, and they both headed straight to the counter.

“I’m going mint chocolate chip,” Paige said confidently. “I need that refreshing hit. Cleans the soul.”

Azzi gave her a look. “It tastes like toothpaste.”

“That’s slander. You’re just uncultured.”

Azzi raised her eyebrows. “Uncultured? I’ll have you know I’m a chocolate traditionalist.”

“Boring,” Paige muttered, grinning.

Azzi stuck out her tongue. “Delicious.”

Paige paid for both of them and got their cones and walked back out into the night. The cold air was a little sharper now, but it was quiet, peaceful. They strolled aimlessly, just enjoying the calmness.

About halfway through her cone, Paige paused. They were walking near the rec center, and just beyond the sidewalk, the outdoor court sat under the dim glow of overhead lights. It was deserted at this hour, just the faint echo of music from someone’s speaker in the distance. And right there, abandoned like it had fallen from the sky, was a basketball.

Paige’s eyes lit up.

“Ohhhhh,” she said, already veering off the path. “Look at that. Fate.”

Azzi followed her gaze. “What, the ball?”

“Yep.” Paige scooped it up with one hand, spinning it in her palm. “You know what this means.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, licking her ice cream. “That some rec bro forgot his ball?”

Paige pointed the ball at her dramatically. “That we have been chosen by the basketball Gods to honour this sacred space.”

Azzi gave her a look that was about 90% amusement and 10% fake disbelief. “You’re such a dork.”

Paige smirked. “A dork who can cross you up in one try.”

Azzi took another bite of her ice cream and said with the straightest face possible, “Let me finish this chocolate masterpiece, and then you can embarrass yourself.”

Paige laughed and bumped her gently with her hip, careful not to knock her cone. “You’re lucky I’m letting you warm up first.”

They wandered toward the edge of the court but didn’t step on it just yet, choosing instead to sit on the bench nearby and enjoy their cones. Paige took a dramatic bite of her mint chocolate chip, shivering exaggeratedly like she’d just ascended to flavor heaven.

“Tell me that’s not the most refreshing thing ever.”

Azzi stared at her. “It’s literally minty milk.”

“It’s rejuvenating,” Paige insisted, licking the drip that slid down the side.

Azzi grinned, taking a bite of her chocolate. “You know what’s rejuvenating? Something that doesn’t taste like mouthwash.”

“You’re so wrong it physically hurts me.”

They both laughed, their knees lightly touching where they sat side by side. Neither moved away.

Paige leaned back slightly, balancing the basketball on her knee. “You know, this night didn’t suck.”

Azzi gave a quiet hum of agreement. “Yeah. It really didn’t.”

Paige looked over at her. There was a peace about her right now, something soft and grounded. Paige looked away before she could linger too long.

“You still good for balling after this?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

Azzi licked the edge of her cone, then gave her a sideways glance. “I was born ready. I just didn’t know I’d be playing in a hoodie and jeans.”

“I mean, I’m in Jordans and vibes. We’ll survive.”

Azzi snorted. “Jordans and vibes? That should be your next Instagram caption.”

“Please, like I’d waste that level of genius on a random post.”

They sat in companionable silence for another minute, each of them working through the last of their cones. Paige’s fingers were a little sticky, her mouth tingling from the cold. Azzi was licking the last bit of chocolate from the tip of her cone with a soft hum of satisfaction.

“Alright,” Paige said, standing up and tossing her napkin into a nearby trash can. She spun the ball once in her hands and looked down at Azzi, a playful glint in her eyes. “Game on?”

Azzi stood slowly, brushing the crumbs from her hands, hoodie sleeves flopping slightly over her fingers. “Game on.”

And with that, they stepped onto the court, just two silhouettes under the glow of the campus lights, still riding the warmth of laughter and sugar. The night wasn’t over just yet.

The basketball echoed softly against the court as Paige bounced the ball a couple of times, her eyes narrowing playfully at Azzi. They’d gone from laughing and joking to this, a one-on-one game. Azzi was looking at her like she was about to put up a fight, and that… that was exactly what Paige needed.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Paige grinned, dribbling the ball between her legs, flashing a quick, confident look at Azzi. “I warned you, I’m in elite form tonight.”

Azzi crossed her arms, leaning back against the court’s outer boundary, watching Paige with a mix of amusement and skepticism. “Elite, huh? We’ll see how ‘elite’ you are when you can’t keep up with me.”

“Oh, it’s on,” Paige said, eyes locking onto Azzi’s with playful intensity.

The first point was quick. Paige faked right, then spun left, finishing with a smooth layup. “Boom. 1-0, me.”

Azzi didn’t miss a beat, bouncing the ball with a practiced hand. “Yeah, you’re real smooth. Let’s see if you can keep that up.”

The game quickly turned into an all-out battle. Paige was fast and agile, but Azzi wasn’t letting her off the hook. With every move, Azzi made Paige work harder. At one point, Paige tried to fake a jumper but Azzi was right in her face, her hand up, challenging her to make the shot.

“Oh shit, you’re not gonna let me get anything easy, are you?” Paige grunted, trying to slip around Azzi’s defense but failing as Azzi’s hand swatted the ball away.

“Not a chance,” Azzi grinned, stealing the ball and dribbling it down the court with fluid ease, taking her own shot for 1-1.

They kept exchanging points like that. Paige, despite all the cocky smirks and back-and-forth banter, couldn’t deny Azzi was holding her own. 

The score was tied at 8-8, and Paige was starting to feel the burn.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. “I’m sore as hell. My legs are still feeling that game earlier.”

Azzi, not buying the excuse, shot her a sly look. “Sore, huh? You seem fine to me.”

“I’m telling you,” Paige huffed, bending slightly at the waist. “If I’m not careful, I’ll pull something. Might even tear my hamstring.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Uh huhhhh. Sure.”

“Ok, look,” Paige said, stepping back to reset, “Maybe a little hamstring tear will help with your defense.”

Azzi smirked, taking a deep breath before getting back into position. “That so? Bring it.”

It wasn’t long before they were back at it, and Paige, feeling the heat of the competition, decided to pull out some tricks. On the next possession, she faked a shot and instead went for a quick spin to the right, aiming for an easy drive to the basket.

But Azzi, as usual, was right there, her hand shooting up to contest the shot. They collided, their bodies pressing together in defense, and Paige let out a surprised laugh, nearly losing her balance. “Damn, Azzi, no need to get so handsy.”

Azzi shot her a knowing grin. “What can I say? I play d like a pro.”

They were up to 12-12 now, and Paige was starting to feel the pressure. Azzi wasn’t giving her an inch, and Paige’s energy was starting to flag.

She came up with an idea—tickling. As Azzi came at her with her signature defense stance, arms wide, Paige couldn’t help but smirk.

As Azzi lunged to block, Paige slipped a hand under her ribs, giving a quick poke. Azzi jumped, her posture faltering for just a second, which was all Paige needed. “Gotcha!” Paige yelled, driving for the basket and scoring easily. “That’s 13-12, baby!”

Azzi shot her a playful glare, shaking her head as she bounced the ball. “You are so lucky that was a game move.”

Paige laughed, throwing her hands up in mock victory. “I’m just that good.”

Azzi came back with a vengeance, charging at Paige like a freight train. “Oh, you think you’re good?” she teased, getting in Paige’s face, her arms up in perfect defensive form. Paige stepped back, trying to pull off another quick move, but Azzi stayed glued to her like a shadow.

Paige could feel her exhaustion creeping in, her muscles sore from the earlier game, the endless dribbling, and now the added pressure of Azzi’s perfect defense. “Shit,” Paige grunted, trying to push past her. “No way. I’m not losing this.”

Azzi grinned. “We’ll see. It’s 16-15 now, so you better pull something out of your bag of tricks.”

Paige wiped her forehead again, eyeing the ball. She was getting cocky, maybe a little too cocky. “Watch and learn,” she muttered, then launched herself into a spin move, faking a pass to her left and then driving right.

Azzi wasn’t fooled. She blocked the shot cleanly, sending the ball flying off toward the side. “Not so fast, superstar,” she taunted, scooping the ball and taking it to the hoop. She finished the layup, making it 17-15.

Paige’s jaw dropped. “What the hell? That was supposed to be my shot!”

Azzi shrugged, clearly pleased with herself. “Guess you’re not as elite as you thought.”

Now Paige was scrambling. “Oh, it’s on, Azzi. I’m about to turn this around.”

But it was too late. Azzi, cool and composed, didn’t let up. With every move, Paige felt herself getting slower, her excuses sounding weaker. Finally, after a contested shot, Azzi knocked it down to make the score 19-15. The game was almost over.

“You good?” Azzi teased, eyes sparkling with playful victory. “You sure you don’t want to just give up now?”

“No fucking way,” Paige snapped, trying to dig deep, but it was clear the fight was out of her.

Azzi crossed her arms, leaning against the hoop with a smug grin. “1 point left. You ready to admit defeat?”

Paige put her hands on her knees, out of breath and just a little defeated, but still smiling. “Alright, alright. You’re gonna make me do the walk of shame, huh?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Yup. And when you do, you can call me ‘the one who took you down.’”

Paige scoffed, trying one last desperate shot, but Azzi was right there. She grabbed the ball and bounced it once before driving to the basket and finishing with a smooth layup.

The game was over.

“20-15,” Azzi said, grinning. “You didn’t even come close in the end.”

Paige sank to her knees dramatically, holding a hand to her chest like she’d just played the game of her life. “Alright, you win. But next time? I’m going all out. No excuses.”

Azzi laughed, offering a hand to Paige to help her up. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Paige grinned and grabbed her hand, pulling herself up. “You’ve been warned. I’m gonna get you back for this.”

Azzi raised her eyebrow, chuckling. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The sound of their heavy breathing slowly filled the quiet space between them as they both collapsed onto the bench, feeling the cool night air wrap around them like a soft blanket. The basketball court lay empty now, the only sound being the occasional squeak of their shoes shifting as they stretched their legs, their bodies sore from the intense game.

Paige wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, breathing in deeply, trying to catch her breath. She couldn’t help but chuckle at how worked up they both had gotten. The whole game had been a battle, but somehow, the competition had felt like nothing more than a way to spend time with Azzi. They were both sweaty and exhausted, but there was something calming about the stillness now that the game was over.

Azzi, sitting beside her, leaned back, staring up at the stars. The light from the nearby lampposts bathed their surroundings in a soft, golden glow, making everything seem peaceful. Azzi’s gaze drifted to the sky, her face a little more relaxed now that the adrenaline was fading.

“You know,” Paige said, breaking the silence, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a game quite like that. You actually made me work for every point.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, a smile tugging at her lips. “I told you, you weren’t gonna get anything easy tonight.”

Paige grinned, leaning back on the bench, her eyes following the stars as well. “Yeah, you sure weren’t kidding. I’ve got to give it to you, Azzi. You’ve got some serious game.”

Azzi shrugged, her eyes still locked on the stars. “It’s nothing, really. Just the usual. I’ve played for a  long time.” She paused, and for a second, her voice softened. “But you… you’ve got a real competitive streak. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

Paige’s heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in Azzi’s voice. She wanted to say something more, to ask her what she meant, but instead, she just nodded, taking in the peacefulness of the moment. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, just staring up at the vastness above them, listening to the occasional rustling of the trees in the distance.

A few moments passed, and Paige couldn’t help but feel a pull to Azzi. She looked over at her, noticing the soft curve of her neck and the way the moonlight seemed to highlight her profile. Without really thinking, Paige shifted a little closer, her leg brushing against Azzi’s, the faintest of touches.

Azzi didn’t pull away. Instead, she subtly leaned into Paige’s side, her shoulder gently bumping against hers. Paige’s pulse quickened slightly, but she didn’t move away. She wanted to stay right there, close to Azzi.

After a beat, Azzi shifted even closer, her head resting gently on Paige’s shoulder. Paige’s breath caught in her throat, and she could feel the warmth of Azzi’s presence seeping into her. It felt natural, easy, like they’d been sitting this way for years.

Paige’s arm moved instinctively, draping over Azzi’s shoulder. Her fingers brushed lightly against the soft fabric of Azzi’s hoodie, then lightly caressed her, almost as if to reassure herself that this was real. It was a small gesture, but it felt significant, as if it were something more than just a casual touch.

Azzi let out a soft sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she settled deeper into Paige’s side. “I’m a little tired,” she admitted, her voice quieter than usual. “But… I don’t really want to leave yet. This is nice.”

Paige’s heart fluttered, a small smile curling at the corners of her lips. She couldn’t explain why, but hearing Azzi say that, in that tone of voice, made her feel… warm. Safe. She felt her own exhaustion creeping up on her, but she wanted to savor this moment just a little longer.

“I get it,” Paige murmured, her voice low and soft. She tilted her head slightly, resting her cheek gently on the top of Azzi’s head. Her hair was soft against Paige’s skin, and the feeling of Azzi so close made Paige’s chest tighten in a way that was almost unexplainable.

Azzi shifted slightly, her breath even and calm, and Paige’s heart fluttered again at the closeness between them. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so… connected to someone like this. There was something about Azzi that made her want to protect her, to keep her close, and it wasn’t just the competitive edge that had drawn her in during the game. No, this felt different. Something deeper.

The two of them just sat there in the quiet, the only sound was their breathing and the faint hum of the world around them. Paige didn’t want to break the silence, not yet. It felt perfect. Just being with Azzi like this, in this moment, was all she needed.

—---------------------------------

The night had grown even quieter, the sounds of the world fading into the background as the two of them sat there, still and content. Azzi’s breathing had become slower, more even, and before Paige even realized it, Azzi’s head had tilted slightly, resting more comfortably against her shoulder. Paige noticed the softness of Azzi’s breath against her skin, the way her body had relaxed completely, sinking into the warmth of their shared space. Azzi was falling asleep.

Paige’s heart fluttered again, but this time, it was with an overwhelming sense of protectiveness. She watched her for a few moments, unable to tear her eyes away from the peaceful look on Azzi’s face. She almost didn’t want to disturb her, not when things felt this good, this right. But as time passed, Paige felt her own exhaustion creeping back in, and she knew it was time to head back to their dorms.

She carefully shifted, adjusting her arm around Azzi’s shoulder, and gently nudged her. “Hey… Azzi,” she murmured softly, a little hesitant, not wanting to disrupt the calm atmosphere they’d settled into. “You should get some real sleep. You can’t just crash here.”

Azzi stirred, blinking sleepily. She rubbed her eyes, groaning softly as she adjusted herself, her face still nestled against Paige’s shoulder. “Mmm… it’s fine,” she mumbled, her voice thick with the remnants of sleep. “I’m good.”

Paige smiled softly, amused by how stubborn Azzi could be. “I know you’re good, but I’m walking you back to your dorm,” she said, a gentle firmness in her voice. “Come on, let’s go. It’s just a 10 minute walk.”

Azzi gave a half-hearted sigh but didn’t argue. “You really don’t have to—” she started, but Paige was already standing, pulling Azzi to her feet with a gentle hand on her back.

“I know, but I want to,” Paige said, grinning. “It’s just a short walk. Plus, I get to spend a little more time with you, so I’m good.”

Azzi chuckled softly, adjusting the sleeve of her hoodie, but let Paige guide her toward the path that led to her dorm. The walk was quiet but comfortable, the night air still warm enough for them to walk side by side without shivering. Paige kept glancing at Azzi, noticing how tired she looked but also how content. It made something inside Paige stir, something she couldn’t quite place but knew she didn’t want to let go of.

—---------------------------------

When they finally reached Azzi’s dorm, Paige stopped at the entrance, her hand resting on the doorframe. Azzi turned to face her, eyes still a little heavy from sleep, but a soft smile tugged at her lips.

“Thanks for walking me back,” Azzi said quietly, her voice low but sincere. “And for the game tonight. It was… fun. I really needed it.”

Paige smiled, her heart doing a little flip at Azzi’s words. “No problem,” she said, voice soft. “Thanks for coming out, Azzi. It was… honestly one of the best parts of my day.”

Azzi looked at her for a moment, her gaze lingering, and then, without saying anything more, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Paige in a slow, steady hug. Paige froze for just a second, her arms instinctively going around Azzi’s back. The warmth between them felt different this time. Deeper. Something unspoken passed between them, something soft and vulnerable.

Azzi held the hug a little longer than usual, her cheek resting gently against Paige’s, and Paige couldn’t help but feel a rush of emotions swirl in her chest. When they finally pulled away, Azzi gave a small, almost shy smile. “You wanna come over tomorrow?” she asked, her voice casual, but Paige could hear the quiet invitation behind her words. “Just to hang out. Not for tutoring or anything. I’ll make you coffee, or whatever.”

Paige blinked for a moment, surprised by the offer, but the thought of spending more time with Azzi made her pulse quicken. “Yeah,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “I’d like that.”

Azzi smiled again, a little more brightly this time. “Cool. I’ll text you when I wake up.”

Paige felt a warmth spread through her chest, and for a brief moment, she didn’t know what to say. She just stood there, looking at Azzi with a soft smile, her heart pounding in her chest.

Azzi, still blinking a little, smiled back, a quiet but genuine expression on her face. There was something in the way they stood there, something that made Paige feel like this moment was more than just a goodbye. It was the kind of silence that said everything and nothing all at once.

“Well,” Paige started, clearing her throat, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Azzi nodded, her smile still lingering. “Yea, tomorrow. Goodnight, Paige.”

“Goodnight, Azzi,” Paige replied softly, giving her one last lingering glance before Azzi walked back into her dorm.

As she made her way down the path, she could feel the warmth of their moments still radiating through her chest. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. A spark of something she couldn’t quite name, but one she was more than willing to explore.

And as she walked, Paige couldn’t help but think—tomorrow was something she was already looking forward to. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[ctrlhope]

Love Thy Neighbour (m)

synopsis: Jimin is a patient man, at least, he thinks he is. But you test him so much. Can’t you just be good? Be so pretty for him? He knows you want to be. Knows you can be so perfect, just for him.

p.jimin x f.reader

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: wc: 4.5k

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: genre: yandere/dark, smut, dark content

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: content: yandere/dark!jimin, noncon, dubcon, implied non-human!jimin, kidnapping, use of a sex doll, cruel and unusual punishment, mindbreak, fear play, blood, biting, marking, minimal prep, cervix bruising, dehumanization (?), creampie, rough sex, jimin is lovesick and delusional and also a gross perv, lmk if i missed any <33

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! the demons won and i finally decided to post this after it was sitting in my drafts forever <33 i wrote this about a year ago with jimin in mind, but then i posted it to my anime blog instead. if you read it over there… no you didn’t AHSSKSH it’s still probably my favourite thing i’ve ever written tbh <33 im back into the swing of writing so nightlight coming soon!! as always please read the warnings <//3

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni -> dark content

Creak.

Footsteps. Footsteps right in front of you. Right in front of your hiding place.

Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please keep walking. Please. If there’s any god out there please make him keep walking.

Bang.

His fist hits the desk right above your head. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Why the fuck did you even hide? It was dumb. So dumb. You can’t get away. Maybe if you ran, kept running forever you could get away. But you can't. Not anymore. It’s too late for any of that.

“There you are, pretty doll.” His sick smile is all you see as he leans down, face coming into view. He’s crazy. He’s fucking crazy. You know that. You do.

You knew from the moment he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. He was practically buzzing as he rocked on his heels. His speech was weird, manic. He’s never spoken like that before. Not whenever he would come knocking on your door asking for sugar, at least.

You tried to be polite, you really did. You tried to make small talk, to politely excuse yourself, your hands shaking. You tried to close the door on him but it just wouldn’t shut as he kept rambling. His foot was shoved in the way, preventing your escape. His dirty fucking sneakers– god even now you remember them so clearly. You remember so many things you wish you didn’t.

How he fucking smiled when you looked back up at him.

It makes your stomach churn to think about it now.

You remember clearly how he grabbed you. He forced his way inside, slowly backing you against the wall. You remember how he grabbed your wrists, talked about how tiny they were in his hands. Showed you only a moment of warmth before harshly biting into the skin, red rising to the surface, coating his tongue. A sound of pain was retched from your throat, trying to pull away while his grip only got tighter. His hips forced you into the wall, trapping you. Keeping you as prey.

He said you taste delicious.

It fucking echos in your head. Makes you go insane with how it repeats over and over again. Exactly how he said the words. The lilt in his tone, the smile that made him look like he just saw the face of god. How excited he sounded at the first taste of blood.

The way you could tell that he craved more.

Craved everything you had to give.

You didn’t think demons were real before that night. Ghosts, angels– anything that goes bump in the night was just a figment of one's imagination. Maybe hallucinations. But this, this was real. How you wish this was all just some stupid hallucination.

Nothing is paranormal before you face the devil himself.

Nothing is more terrifying than when the devil wants you.

You learned that that night.

He dragged you next door, throwing you to the ground. He looked like a shadow, only a silhouette as he stood in the doorway. The moon casting a glow from behind him. You couldn't see his face, none of it was legible as you scrambled backwards. Trying, trying so desperately to put some space between yourself and the beast.

His shoulders heaved as he panted. Like a fucking monster that just got his kill.

He had.

He closed the doors. Locked them with what felt like a million keys. He started fucking giggling. Giggling like a goddamn lunatic as his demeanour changed completely. He was smiling like an innocent little kid. He was happy. The happiest you had ever seen a person before.

“Ahhh~” He sighed, glee laced in his all too cheery tone. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Speaking, churning in your ears so it's all you can hear. It mocks you. Mocks your very being. Mocks you for trying to live a normal life away from him.

You remember how he clung to you that night as you sobbed. Whining about how you shouldnt be sad, that you were home now. He’d coo, playing with your hair as he tried to ‘soothe’ your trembling body. His arms wrapped around you in a vice. It felt like he was choking the air out of your lungs.

Maybe he was trying, maybe he wanted you dead. You really had no clue. You just wanted to get away– be as far away from him as you could. You’d do anything, you told him as much. Change your name, leave the country. You promised you wouldn’t tell anybody! You would tell him anything if it meant you could leave.

But he kept you in place. Tucked in his arms. His entire body wrapped around yours, keeping you close. Keeping his face nuzzled into your neck. Smelling you. Smelling your fear.

He loves that smell.

If you let him he would breathe it in all the time, treating it as the very thing that keeps him alive. Well, until you die anyway. But he knows that won't be anytime soon! You’re strong. You're tenacious. He knows you are. You’ve dealt with so much in your life, you can deal with him too. He just knows it.

He wonders what all of your other emotions smell like.

Hmm.. What about love? That would be an interesting smell. Maybe it would be sweet like honey? Maybe bitter like chocolate… Humans are so interesting. They're so fun.

You are especially. And he knows you’ll like him too. He’s sure of it as you finally tire yourself out, falling asleep on his beat up mattress. Mmhmm crying for hours must really hurt your soul. Poor thing. He would fix it. Fix you up all nice and pretty. Yeah, he knows just how to. His pretty experiment.

Well, he thinks that’s all you are. A nice human experiment for him to play with. To learn everything about. Learn what makes them tick, what makes them laugh, what makes them cry. Seokjin told him as much. He could keep a little human as a pet, dispose of them when necessary. But… he doesn’t want to let you go! Just the thought makes him want to cry!

You are already better than he ever imagined!

Bang.

The chair blocking your body is thrown back, assaulting the wall with a deafening crash. Your hands come up, covering your ears. Shit Shit Shit! Fuck, what are you going to do, what are you going to do?! Your body forces itself as far as it can into the corner of the desk. All you can hear, all you can think about is the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Why are you so dumb?! You knew you couldn’t win! You never win any of his games!

He squats in front of you, blocking your only means of escape. You hear him, watch him inhale deep before letting out a sick laugh. One that makes you want to cry. One that makes you feel like trying to run– trying to hide is useless. Maybe it is. You don’t see how you could possibly get away.

The pictures covering his walls tell you everything you need to know.

“Found you.” He smiles, crawling towards your body, crawling towards your last bit of safety. He looks like a monster– he is a monster. He can’t be human. He can’t. You refuse to believe it. Your legs kick, they try to get away. They try to be your last line of defence but his face only shows that of an owner looking at a puppy having a fit. He looks so fond of you.

You want to scream.

He grabs your ankle. It hurts. Everything hurts. You should’ve become numb at this point, you wish you had. You feel your body slip out from under the desk, dragged against the hard floor. Pick you up with ease, lay you down in his bed. His gross disgusting bed.

He pouts. He fucking pouts at you. Sits in front of you..

“Don't tell me you’re jealous.” His frowns, tilting his head at you. “I didn't mean to make you! I swear! I just wanted to show you. How much I love you…how good I could make my pretty doll feel.” You could never be jealous. Not of anything involving him.

Especially not involving the putrid fucking sex doll that lays next to you in bed.

How he fucked it last night, making you watch. Made you hold his hand while he thrust into the thing. Made you cup his face as he came inside.

“How I’ve been practicing just for you.” He coos, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to his knees, crawling towards you in the bed. “Humans are just so hard to understand…And I really couldn’t wait for you any longer.”

You don’t hear his words. Your eyes fixated on the doll that looks just like you. Every freckle the same, every mole. Every fucking tiny detail mirrored yours in a lifeless, hollow core made of silicon. Filled up with his cum. You don’t want to think about how many times he’s fucked it. How many times he’s pretended having sex with you while holding it close. How much he had to have spent to get such a thing.

How deep whatever he feels for you runs.

You swear it probably coats his veins. Running under every inch of this skin. Giving it colour. Giving it life. It's all you’re able to think about when he leaves you alone in the apartments. It’s hard for you to swallow. To believe for yourself. You wish it is a lie.

You let him get close. You let him into your bubble for only a second. You allow his face into your neck. Biting your skin, drawing blood once again. He loves the taste. You think he's probably obsessed with it. You wanted to recoil away, disgusted with how he hums, lapping at the skin. But you don’t. You need to let him have this. Even if it's just for a second.

You close your eyes tight. You feel him relax. He thinks you’re giving in. You know he does. You can do this. You can do this. You may have only made this decision a moment ago as you stared at the doll, but you had to do this. You had to do it for yourself. It may be the last chance you get. You can’t stop fighting.

You can do this. You can do this.

The mantra chants over and over again in your head like a prayer. You feel his hand reach up, covering your clothed breast with his palm. Massaging it carelessly, without any thought or respect for you. In his head you’re probably the same as that fucking sex doll.

Your knee shoots up. Right into his crotch. Right where it hurts the most. Your hands shove him with all the strength in your body, getting him off of you. Getting him away for only a moment while he recovers. Maybe. Maybe you can make it out of the door. Or maybe you can make it to the bathroom and lock yourself inside. Maybe you have a chance. Just maybe.

Your body scrambles off of the bed, moving faster than you ever thought was possible. You race towards the door, arm reaching out for the handle. You’re so close. You’re almost there. You’re almost able to get away.

Freedom is within your grasp, it's so close you can taste it. He forgot to lock the door, you know he did. You didn't hear any of them click back in place when he came inside. He was too caught up in the moment with trying to find you. If you make it there then maybe, just maybe you can get outside. Run as fast and as far away as you can. Call the police and escape from him. Spread the wings he’s tried to clip.

You land flat on your face.

Not even your arms are able to cushion your fall.

A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you, dragging you again. Backwards. Back into the cage. Back to him. His chest heaves. His shoulders hunch. He looks dishevelled. Crazed.

He has that fucking smile plastered on his face.

“I love it when you run. It's so pretty.” He giggles, “You know me so well.”

You kick at him, thrash your body as he pulls you closer and closer. “Get the fuck away from me!” You yell, though it falls on deaf ears. All the strength in your body is being used to get away. To try and escape from him. He can’t be human. He’s too strong. Even with your struggle he still lifts you easily, like you’re just some fucking little kid having a temper tantrem.

“I’ve been so patient…” He sighs, placing– rather, forcing you onto the edge of the bed. Your knees on the floor as your torso is pressed against the mattress. Your arms pinned behind your back with one of his hands. Your hips pinned in place with his own. You can feel his cock against you. He’s hard. “I really am patient, you know?”

He hums, gently rocking his hips against you. His entire length pressed against your cunt. Taunting you. Words are not needed for you to know what’s to come. “It’s really too bad you know? I’ve run out.”

The simple statement makes your blood run cold.

“I’ve been so gentle…so caring…” He purrs, forcing his sweatpants down his legs. Just enough for his cock to spring free. Just enough for him to be able to stroke himself. For him to press the fat head where he wants– no, no. Needs to be. “I’ve really been trying my best to be good for you.”

You wish you could see. You wish you could see everything– exactly what he is doing. What he is planning to do to your wrecked frame. If, if everything wasn’t such a surprise then maybe… maybe you could make it a little better. But like this… you’re helpless. You’re trapped. You hate it. You can’t stand it. You wish you still had more tears left to cry. But you know it’s over. You can’t do anything now.

Exactly how he wants it– wants you.

You feel him stop moving, an excited gasp resonating from his throat. His entire presence changes in a flash, giddiness taking him over as the cogs in his brain turn. Making up his own story, his own reality changing all over again. “Unless, you don't want me to be good for you? You want me to take what I want? That’s why you’ve been trying to run and hide?”

His frame towers over yours, his full weight pressing against your back forcing you deeper into the bed as he mumbles into your ear. “All you had to do was say so~”

All you can do is whimper in response. Whimper like a wounded animal that's been forced to accept their fate. Your head is blank, devoid of all thoughts and feelings. There is nothing. Nothing you can do.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe a small part of you does like it. Who knows. You certainly don’t.

He blows gently on your ear, teasing you before he leans back. Your bottoms are forced down, exposing your cunt to the entire room. You can feel him practically buzzing with excitement. With some sick pleasure found deep within his gut.

“So pretty!” He whines, spreading your cheeks to get a full view of your pretty little cunt. You hate that you’re already wet. You hate that the feeling of his cock did it to you just moments before. You hate that he can see it. You hate the way pride bubbles up in his gut. The way you can hear him lick his lips like a starved man.

Hate what the other little voice is saying inside of your head. Hate that even maybe a little bit of your soul wants to feel him. The quiet fucked up voice that you always try to silence in the dead of night when you’re left with your thoughts.

“Mm… I wanna taste you so bad but… I really can’t wait anymore… what am I supposed to do!!” You can practically hear the pout plastered on his lips. “Ah~”

The fat head of his cock finds its way back to your cunt, dragging itself up and down your lips. Milking every last bit of wetness out of your hole. Your nails dig into your own hands— maybe his. It’s hard to tell where you stop and he begins. When he’s this close it’s hard to tell much of anything.

“We have forever together don’t we?” He chuckles, his head stopping at your unprepped little hole. Attempting to push into it with just enough pressure to have you squirm. Have you bite down on the sheet to silence any sounds that might try to come through. He’s too thick. “We can try out all sorts of fun things together~”

His thumb aids as he tries to push the head of his cock inside. Prodding, trying to force his way inside without a care in the world for how it might hurt. How it might feel for you. He’s too big— you’re, you’re too tight. You can’t take it! It won’t fit you just, just–!

“Mmmm!!” A muffled cry breaks free from your throat as the head of his cock buries itself in your cunt. Your ears ring, pain taking over your senses as he lets out a mouth watering, near pornographic moan from above you.

His grip on your wrists tighten, eyes staring at where he’s fucked himself into you. Wow~ it’s so pretty. He never expected a human to feel this good! It’s incredible! Magnificent! And this is just the first inch of him? Oh my… he can only imagine what bottoming out with feel like— how it will feel when his cock is pressed against your cervi—

Wait wait!! He’s getting ahead of himself again. A gasp leaves his throat as he pulls out, a muffled whine leaving your own. Your hole clenches around nothing. What a cute little thing! It’s calling him back in!! He knew you wanted this, he knows all about you huh?

He drags his cock back and forth through your lips again, red mixing in with the pretty white. He dips his cock head over and over again into your entrance, thrusting himself deeper and deeper every time. Stretching you just perfectly around his length.

Hmm, humans like prep right? He figures that this is close enough. His doll doesn’t need it. She just takes him right away— someday you’ll be the same! He just needs to break you in! But until then, he needs to savour this… who knows when you might come around again?

Mmm… you’re too mean to him. Yeah, that’s all it is.

Ah, it’s too bad he’s too lost to notice you’re already falling apart. Your back is arching on its own. Working without permission to give him a better angle. Your hips bucking, leaning back ever so slightly as he presses into your cunt. Urging him just a little deeper. Your pussy is too wet to think about anything, your head in a daze as he teases you, taunts you relentlessly.

You don’t want this— at least you think you don’t. But, it’s so hard to know what you really want when your head gets like this. When it’s actually feeling good. When the pleasure mixes with pain to concoct something dangerous. Something that makes you unsure of anything, really. Maybe you’re dumb, maybe you’re stupid. Yeah. You probably are. But that’s okay. He likes that.

He likes you.

He slides his cock inside of your hole, his hand moving to your ass as thrusts his hips. Forcing his cock deeper and deeper with each stroke. Your walls clenching around every inch that pushes its way inside. God, you’ve never felt so full. You’ve never felt anything like this. Anything like his cock, anything like him.

Whimpers, whines, all sorts of sounds escape your throat as you let him do what he pleases. Give into whatever twisted pleasure is being given to you. It’s hard to stop them when he’s even louder— panting like a fucking dog as he feels you. Feels every inch of you. Makes you two become one.

He fucks into you so hard it hurts. So hard that your entire body is being pushed into the bed, spine curving up to meet him with every demonic thrust of his hips. Every time the skin of his thighs meets your ass, every time the head of his cock meets with your cervix, pain racks through your body. You can’t take it. You feel like you’re going crazy. You feel like you’re the insane one.

The sound of skin against skin penetrating the sound of your ears like some sort of sick, twisted song. A song he plays so well. One you don’t want him to stop. No matter how much it hurts, how it stings you, you just can’t find it in yourself to push him away. His moans feel like a siren’s voice, luring you closer and closer, pushing you so close to the edge.

“Why’s she so mean!” He whines, his thrusts frantic and hurried. Only caring for his own pleasure, only caring about him. “Won’t let me in any deeper doll! Can you believe that?” He groans, pressing his cock so hard against your cervix you nearly scream in pain. Your body thrashes, trying to get away from the sensation.

He shushes you quietly, leaning his torso against your back as he coos. “Shh… shh… it’s okay… we won’t try that today okay? Must be too much for you… poor thing.” His hips relent, slowly rocking into your battered cunt to give you a little bit of a break. To rest before the main event.

You want to cringe at how wet you sound, how messy you’ve become due to his cock and his cock alone. How greedily your pussy takes him, urging him back with every thrust. Wanting it. Wanting him.

You see his arm reach past your head, grabbing onto your mimics hair. Pulling the doll closer. Holding its head so it’s staring right into your eyes. It’s so lifeless. So hollow.

“It’s okay.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Someday you’ll take me just like she can, yeah? You’ll be sooo~ good for me.” His hips start to pick up their pace again, thighs slapping against your ass so hard you might see stars. So hard you actually want to listen to him.

“I had to break her in too, real good.” He pants out, losing himself in the feeling of your tight, warm walls.

You flinch away. You can’t look at it anymore. Can’t look at a face that is exactly your own yet so cold and distant. So lost. Used for months on end. Maybe a little sense comes back to you, a small part of reality seeping back into your skull.

He tsks. Fucking tsks and shakes his head in disappointment. “That won’t do… I need my girls to like each other…” He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at the thing. The creature with your hair and eyes.

“Kiss it.” His voice changes in a second, morphing into something commanding. Something scary.

Fuck reality. Living in whatever dream you’ve created for yourself is better. Better than facing this. You don’t want to disobey. You want to listen, want him to let you cum. Want to be good. Maybe want his praise, even if it’s just a little.

Your lips meet with the cold, lifeless silicon. Tasting whatever disgusting leftover cum can be found on its lips. He pushes the head against your lips, forcing you to lick your tongue inside. “Adorable!!”

He likes it. He likes it too much. You can tell.

Tell by the way his hips pick up speed, forcing your used hole to take him over and over again. Forcing you to accept him into your body. Forcing you to fall for his cock. Make sure no one else will ever be able to use it. Use you like the way he wants to.

Can tell by the way his cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppy. His pace completely out the window as he searches for nothing but his own release.

Maybe you like it too. Like the way his cum tastes. Like the way he took this, took all of you for himself. All of you flesh as his. The coil tightens in your stomach, white specks start to form behind your eyelids. You’re close, too fucking close you just can’t take it anymore.

A loud moan leaves your lips, muffled by the silicon held against your mouth. Waves of pleasure crashing through your frame like a tidal wave of ecstasy as white paints the inside of your walls. Ears ringing, vision gone white as endorphins fill your brain making you forget— forget everything about this moment. How fucked up it is. How you want more.

Your walls clamp around his cock as it jerks in your cunt, milking every last drop of cum from him. Filling you up until you’re stuffed. Until you can’t think anymore. Until you’re so tired you just want to collapse.

He drops the doll letting you pull your head back to finally be able to breathe again fully. Your frame slumps against the bed. Tired. Drained of everything it has to give.

He slowly pulls out of your abused little hole, watching the way it flutters around nothing. Watching the white mixed with red slowly drip out of it onto the rug. “Humans are such incredible little things…”

He smiles, shallowly dipping a finger inside your walls before popping it in his mouth. Just a little taste. “You did so good doll…” He pets your hair, gives you some sort of comfort after everything he’s done. It’s the least you deserve.

He moves your body into the bed with ease, pulling a blanket over your shaking form. A nap would be good right now. It’s always good to give humans at least one nap a day! Mhmm… and you seem like you could use one.

He moves behind you, wrapping an arm around your body from behind. Pulling you close to his chest. Making no mind to fix your clothes. This is good. This is right. It’s how it’s always supposed to have been!! Ah, and now he has all the time to make you understand that too. He’s so lucky. So lucky to have found such a good human.

“Night night dolly…” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair gently. Coaxing you to sleep. “Let’s have a great day tomorrow too, yeah?”

Right. Tomorrow. Cause this is forever.

You can’t help the small smile that creeps to your lips at the thought. Forever. ♡

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[kurokawaia]

❛ NEW START ❜

PostWar!Uchiha Sasuke X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.6k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW;

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) hi again!! im the one who requested for the domestic sasuke fic! so for the domestic fic i was thinking either marriage domestic fic or a post-war fic like hospital visits or catching up?? 💗 - ANON

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

You and Sasuke were kids, perhaps six or seven, fooling around the training grounds that bordered the Uchiha compound. Both of you were panting and panting it out after playing tag for a couple of hours or so, on occasion with Itachi showing up to give you both something to drink. Every match you did, Sasuke won them all. Always faster, always a step in front of you, but you never minded that. It was fun being around him, catching the rare smiles and hearing the carefree laughs. You plopped yourself down in the grass, small chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. Sasuke sat beside you, his face flushed from running, but his expression calm as always. The two of you stared up at the sky, watching as the first stars started to appear. "I'm going to be the strongest shinobi," Sasuke told you with confident delicacy, as if he had decided upon it long ago. You nodded, smiling softly. "I'll be strong too… and I'll always be with you." Sasuke looked at you, his dark eyes gleaming with a rare softness. "Always?" he repeated. You nodded again this time more determinate. "Always." Then out of nowhere, you blurted, "When we grow up, we are going to get married." Sasuke blinked, clearly taken aback. "Married?" he repeated as if to wrap his head around such a concept, not truly knowing of the meaning, but he liked the notion, being with you all of the time! "Yeah," you replied though you have absolutely no idea what marriage entails. You just knew that you wanted to remain by his side, whatever it took. "That way, we'll always be together, whatever happens." Sasuke was quiet a moment longer, before giving you the barest of smiles, one that was over so fast if you had blinked, you would have missed it. "Alright," he said low enough so that his voice was barely audible above a whisper. "We're getting married." By that time, you didn't realise it, but that harmless promise promised became something you would cling to for so many years later. The only thing that brought you to believe that Sasuke will come back to the village was that he kept his promise, to be with you for all time, to marry you.

Years went by, and that innocent childhood promise was dulled when Sasuke never came back, but then, the war happened. The war had torn so much apart, but Sasuke did come back.  It had leapt in your chest when you first heard Sasuke had been brought back, injured but alive. Running to the hospital, the hope of seeing him overwhelmed your sense of caution. But getting there, he'd been asleep, unconscious from the toll the battle had taken from his body. You look at his left arm, which was now gone. What an idiot. His face was pale, his dark hair fanned out on the pillow, his arm bandaged heavily. A sight of him like that vulnerable, worn down made your heart ache. You stood at the edge of his bed, unsure what to say, your hand reaching out and stopping just shy of touching him. "I'm here, Sasuke," you whispered, even though you knew he couldn't hear you. "I never stopped waiting for you." There wasn't an answer, just the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. You watched him for what felt like hours, hoping maybe, just maybe, he would wake up and you could tell him everything

He didn't.

The next time you see him, the situation is quite interesting, you had asked Kakashi were Sasuke was as he wasn't in the hospital and you were told he was... elsewhere. Sasuke has been taken into custody by the Interrogation and Torture Division due to his crimes. 

They were dealing with his fate, and though they had villagers both within his support, against him, and everywhere in between, you know it wasn't going to go easy on him. You wished to see him, and with some reluctance, they allowed you to have a small visitation with him. Down the corridors of highly guarded cells, they took you, stopping at the one that housed Sasuke. 

There was that loud creaking of the opening door, and there he sat, hands bound in chakra-suppressing restraints, his head turned away from the door, he could feel it was you, it was obvious even if his eyes and arm were bound. "Sasuke." Your voice was weak, almost quivering, as you took a step closer toward him.  At first, he said nothing, hi head was angled to the ground, not waiting to face you. Then softly, almost to himself inaudibly, he added, "I'm so sorry." It took you a moment to process the words coming from his lips, as Sasuke rarely, if ever, apologized, let alone something huge as what he had pulled. You swallowed, kneeling down in front of him as your hand reached out to touch his despite the restraints. "Sasuke..." you started, your voice on the verge of breaking. "I am," he cut in, his voice now grating but still with that edge of emotion. "I need to apologize. For everything. For leaving, for hurting you, for what I've done… You could read in his posture, the weight of what he was doing and what he had done, he had hurt you so much, that he tried to kill you three times. It wasn't about the war, nor the village, literally everything, every decision he made that further distanced him from the promise you made as children. "I don't care about anything else," you said, steadiness, with the well of tears brimming in your eyes. "I care about you. You came back, Sasuke. That's all that matters." "I don't deserve it," he muttered incoherently. "That's not for you to decide," you said, your hand clenching hard around his. "We were supposed to be together, remember? No matter what. You can't just decide you don't deserve that." Then Sasuke exhaled the softest of sighs, his head bowing slightly. "I'm sorry," he said again, yet it sounded different this time, less for his guilt, more for what he had lost, for what he yet could keep.

You reached up and carefully lifted his chin so he'd look up at you, though his eyes were covered, at least his face was angled towards your own now. "I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, your thumb brushing against his cheek. "We'll figure this out. Together."

Sasukes head fell to your shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered so quietly you would have missed it if there was sound in the room.

when you two are married >.<

The sun peeks through the thin curtains of your shared bedroom. You stir slightly, your body wrapped up in the cocoon of blankets and tangled up in Sasuke. You turn your head slightly, your eyes barely open, to see him beside you. His face is relaxed in sleep, the furrow in his brow smoothed out. Sasuke peaceful, unruffled-in the home you've built together. You'd never imagined living like this, not back then, not when things were still so tenuous. His breathing evens out into a rhythm and you spend several more minutes doing nothing except staring at him. He is forever unreachable, even when he is right beside you, yet here with just the two of you, it's not quite so much the case. With you, Sasuke can be himself. You reach out, your fingertips brushing against his cheek gently, and he stirs. His eyes flicker open, revealing those eyes you've grown so accustomed to-only now, of course, with that new rinnegan you're still getting used to. For a moment, he looks disoriented-like he doesn't remember where he is-but then his gaze reaches yours and mellows out. A giggle almost slipped past your lips at the sigh as he was so cute. "Morning," you whisper, barely heard. He grunts in return-the sort of sound that makes one smile. So like him. After all this time, together, he still manages to remain the same in small ways. Sasuke isn't a morning person, at least, not when words are involved. You prop yourself up on your elbow, the blankets pooling around your waist as you lean down to press a soft kiss to his lips. Are you hungry?" you ask, your fingers brushing through his dark hair, still slightly tousled from sleep. He grunts again, but you can see the ghost of a smile tugging on one corner of his lips. "I'll make something," you say softly, though a part of you wants to stay in bed with him a little while longer. Before you can pull away, Sasuke's fingers wrap around your wrist in a light but firm grasp. "Stay," he mutters, his tone husky with residual sleep. You can't help but smile at the uncharacteristic plea as you settle back into the bed beside him, tucking your body close to his as he pulls you near. His arm wraps around your waist as his forehead presses against yours and the two of you are still, tangled up in one another. The silence between you is comfortable; neither of you has to say anything. Sasuke's hand moves in a languid pattern up and down your back. "I was thinking." you start off softly, breaking the silence, "perhaps we could go visit Naruto and Hinata later. It's been some time since we've seen them." Sasuke is silent for several moments, his body showing only the barest hint of tension at mention of his old comrade. Things have eased some since the war was over, but there is still a distance between them-something faint and lingering and awkward, which neither of them can quite chase away. "Maybe," he says at last, his voice low and small, not unkind. You smile, knowing that's as close to a yes as you're going to get. Progress, you tell yourself silently as you feel a surge of gratitude that Sasuke's at least willing to make the effort. It's more than you could've hoped for a few years ago. His hand resting on your back stops moving, and he shifts slightly, his lips coming into contact with your forehead. "I'll go," he says softly, which takes you a bit by surprise. You lean back just a bit to look up at him, the ghost of a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "Is this Sasuke Uchiha actually agreeing to willingly spend time with Naruto? He rolls his eyes at the teasing, but the barest hint of a smile tugs at his lips. "Don't push it," he mutters, the words devoid of any real bite. You chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Sasuke doesn't respond to your laugh, but the way his hand tightens around your waist says enough.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

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taglist :: @enouche @lovelyandproblematic

@sugu-love @why-are-you-still-awake

[kaysdelights]

when you're forced to marry an alien himbo | 🔞

words: 5004 fem reader x male main character w / au's: alien!au, himbo alien, arranged marriage, getting off in front of him summary: you're a brand new bride to a himbo virgin alien warrior that is obsessed with making you happy:) a/n: i told myself i wouldn't repost ALL of my shitty stories again for the millionth time while i figure out what i wanna do with my life BUT i desperately wanna get inspiration for this AU again because it was SO FUN TO WRITE! so im posting it again and also i need to tell myself i can do whatever i want to be happy D': okay love you <3 there is another part to this hehe also this has nothing to do with the other alien au i posted recently... i was just in a mood late last year writing about hot aliens lol

“You might want to have a seat when I tell you this, bestie.” You hear the impending doom in the tone of her voice coming in clearly through the speaker of your phone. “You’re an alien bride.” 

As if things couldn’t get any shittier for you. 

You got fired from your job because you were running late due to your car breaking down. You couldn’t afford to fix the part on your car because your bank account was overdraft due to your A/C breaking the week before. But it’s not like you could have even paid for the A/C when your boyfriend (now ex) broke up with you, drained your account for all he could, and took off with your sister to Vegas. Now you’re an alien bride thanks to the leaders of earth making a deal with the alien’s that they would protect all humans from the other invasive species of the universe if they send mate’s for the aliens in return. 

“Or, is it an alien's bride? Are you an alien bride if you’re human and you’re marrying the alien? Or, like, are you the alien’s bride because you’re the alien’s? You belong to the alien. The alien’s woman? Either way… that’s you, girl.”

The sound of your best friend rambling because she’s scared shitless for you barely snaps you out of your daze. 

“Is he rich, at least?” You sigh into the speaker. What’s one more weird and oddly specific thing that could go wrong? Just add it to the list. Alien, or maybe alien’s, bride? Check! “Because that would solve half my problems, Sera, and honestly when you’re only adding one problem back in, it evens out. Girl math.”

“Listen, you didn’t hear it from me-” But, you did. Sera works for the earth-intergalactic species representatives resources department. This is the only reason you’re finding out about this now. Normally people are just snatched up from their homes to go off and breed ginormous alien babies. Or, at the very least, marry an alien. You aren’t too sure on the specifics of what happens after that, but you have always been a little curious… “Your alien is a total hottie.” 

“What are you insinuating?” You gasp, part offended and part imagining how hot your alien husband-to-be actually is. “I just go up there and let this alien have his way with me to completely destroy me? I heard they’re not gentle! They’re mean and rough and ugly. So, really, how hot could he be?”

“You’ve never even seen one of them before!” She begins to whisper, as if someone is coming closer that could hear and potentially get her fired, or worse. “Look, you’re one overdraft fee away from homelessness. Don’t look at this as a bad thing. You’ve got no choice.”

You know she’s right. What other choice do you have? 

You’re beamed up to the alien spaceship that hovers earth the following morning. Literally. Beamed up in a blink of an eye. One minute you’re on earth, the next you’re surrounded by cold, steel walls in a circular room with two bags of your things and your cat, Jellybean. Jellybean hisses at thin air as he looks around, clinging to your shirt like it's his lifeline. His orange fur begins to fly when you try to soothe him, all before a sliding door opening to the right, and in walks the dreamiest, most charming, hunkiest man that ever hunked. 

Was this your alien husband-to-be? God, you hoped so. You were going to end it all if you haven’t even left earth yet, knowing this divine specimen exists and you couldn’t have a chance with him.

He clears his voice, a nervous smile on his lips, before he tells you his name. “I’m your husband.” 

Relief floods you. She was right. He is hot. Beyond hot. Your knees quiver as he steps closer, heart racing. As he walks into the yellow cast of the light overhead, you notice his brown, military style uniform, matching cap on his head, and black boots. Of course, all the aliens are trained soldiers well respected across galaxies for their skills in combat. It’s why earth so happily accepted their protection. They needed to remain safe, and the aliens needed mates. 

Jellybean hisses again to pull you away from the thoughts roaming. He looks down at the cat, then back to you. You expect him to be rude, mean even, maybe make an insulting comment, but he only smiles. 

“Would you like to see our living quarters? Let your friend get something to eat and drink while we settle in?”

“S-Sure.” Okay, you weren’t expecting that. Aren’t these aliens supposed to be mean? Horrid? Rough? Terrible? Ugly?! So far he was none of these things. He doesn’t even have a problem with Jellybean. Your ex hated Jellybean, but to be fair Jellybean hated him, too. 

God, speaking of, has it really been that long since you’ve been laid that you’re getting all hot and bothered over this alien just for being nice and not minding your cat? He leads you down corridors of metal until you’re suddenly thrust into a bustling living area full of other aliens and humans, lounges, TVs, little food carts with any option of burger, chicken wing, or pizza you could imagine. You name it, it was offered in those delicious smelling stands, though you wonder what kind of meat they used. Alien technologies are clearly far more advanced. Even their fauna was beautiful and ethereal looking, sparkling off the synthetic sun overhead while the koi fish in the ponds around them swam gracefully.

Though food and decor didn’t keep your attention for long. A couple you walk past looks as lovey-dovey in love as one could be. He’s much larger than her as she snuggles into his side while the two read the intergalactic news articles in the morning paper. She leans up and gives him a kiss on his cheek. As if she just couldn’t help herself, and you really can’t blame her either when you notice all of the aliens are pretty hot.

Not as hot as your alien, of course. There’s no alien like your husband. 

“Um, husband?” You shuffle your feet quickly to reach his side, grabbing onto his arm with the hand that isn’t holding Jellybean. 

“Yes, wife?” A shiver races down your spine at him calling you wife. God, were you really about to fall head over heels for an alien? The odds seemed likely. At this point, what did you have to lose? You only had everything to gain. Like a super hot, super attention and sweet alien husband who was no doubt packing downstairs. 

“Where exactly are we staying aboard this massive ship?” The alien spaceship was big enough to serve as a warning to the other space travelers to stay away, but also big enough to host every trained soldier from their home planet. 

“Just down here,” he says, leading you out of the living area down a more lively looking hallway with plants and pictures of army captains. Then he stops down another hallway in front of a door seconds before it slides to the right. “Right in here.” He carries your two bags through the threshold into the most normal looking foyer you have ever seen. Ahead are even a set of stairs made from hardwood floor. To the right, a kitchen. To the left, a living room. A house that jumped straight out of a magazine. You expected the alien spaceship to look like something from Star Trek, and part of it does, but some parts…

“This looks so…”

“Human?”

“Yes!” He chuckles at that, setting your things down while you let Jellybean  out of your arms to go sniff everything. “Why?”

“To make our mates more comfortable. To feel more like home.”

You can’t help your frown. “What if we don’t want it to feel that way?” Your voice is a whisper as you take in the surroundings. You’ve never lived anywhere this nice. It’s way too suburban, picket fence, three kids and a dog for you. 

“If the living arrangement is not to your standards, we can make changes.” There’s a frown on his face now. He actually looks disappointed you don’t seem happy. You definitely hate that look.

“It’s great! No worries!” You offer him the biggest smile you can muster, watching his grin return. “So, shall we get started?” you ask, beginning to take off your coat considering shoes were already left at the entrance. The coat falls to the floor before you begin unbuttoning your jeans.

“Wh-what are you doing?” He blinks a few times before turning his head from you. “If you needed to get changed, I could have stepped away.” He won’t look at you, so you stop fidgeting with your jeans. 

“Changed? No, I meant sex and alien babies.” He snaps his head at your words. “Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

“You’re here to be my wife.”

“Yeah… which means sex and then having alien babies. Right?” 

He looks confused. Now you feel heat rushing to your cheeks. You quickly pick your coat from the floor, covering yourself to not feel as exposed from your embarrassment. Not like it would help. He’s already eyed you up and down and back again at the mere mention of sex. 

“I’m… not sure.” He looks down, rubbing the back of his neck. “We were told marrying a human would give us strength, power. That what we receive from our mate would make us nearly invincible.”

Your jaw hangs open. “Excuse me?” You blink, taking a step toward him. “What the fuck are you saying?”

He gulps, not bothering to meet your eyes due to him cowering like you’re a foot taller than him. To be fair, you do have an intimidating gaze when things start to get complicated.

“Being with a human means being powerful,” he repeats, though it doesn’t make an ounce more sense. “We were told our humans would teach us what we needed to know to be successful lovers.”

You choke on your own spit from the words, coughing. “So being a good lover makes you more powerful?” You shake your head. “Being with me… being a good lover… makes you more powerful?” You’re squinting at him, no longer frustrated, but curious if he’s saying what you think he’s saying. If so, you have one hot himbo virgin on your hands and he’s in dire need of a sex lesson from you. 

“Yes, that’s it.” He nods, finally looking you in the eyes. 

“Well, you know what? My life sucks so what the hell? Whatever it is, alien husband, I’m going to make you more powerful! And you know what else? My life could still suck but at least I don’t have to go to work anymore and have Creepy Andy stare at my tits all day.” 

He frowns, anger spreading in his features. The shift in his demeanor is so sudden, it catches you off guard. “Is this Creepy Andy a problem?”

Oh… you like that. This alien is awakening something in you that makes you… horny? Scared? Maybe both. He’s big, and dangerous, and from another planet and it kind of turns you on he is willing to do, well whatever he would do to Creepy Andy if you said yes. No human man has ever made you feel this way. This stirring of excitement and adrenaline mixed with fear of the unknown washing over you as he looks at you like he would eat you up and worship you. Of course, what’s his has been threatened. From his tone, his posture, his words, you realize he’s a territorial man. So your hot himbo virgin alien is the jealous, protective type. Somehow you find him even more attractive.

“Not anymore,” you tell him, sighing, pouting, earning a little more of his attention which you realize you actually adore in the moment. He steps closer, placing hands on your arms. “I mean, it got pretty bad there for a while. He was always trying to flirt, and make weird comments about me, and just be creepy, you know?”

Okay, you didn’t have to go into detail, but to watch your new alien husband get worked up over another man’s comments about your body does something to your confidence. This alien has claimed you for his keeping, and it’s clear no one else should dare to even look at you or this alien super soldier will not be so nice.

“Where can one find this Creepy Andy?”

His question has you bursting into giggles. “Don’t worry about it.” You reach to pat him on the chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath. “It’s not something I have to worry about anymore.” 

You pull away to go get Jellybean settled in while he takes your things upstairs. After a while of soothing Jellybean and coaxing him out of his hiding place under one of the lounges in the living room so he would eat something, your husband comes downstairs to offer you a cooked meal.

“You cook?”

“Sometimes.” His sheepish grin has butterflies swarming your stomach. How can he be so hot, and intimidating, yet cute? You follow him into the kitchen with the standard fridge and oven, with a sink and dishwasher close by. Looks just like something you would see on earth, if it weren’t for the unique gadgets and interesting trinkets here and there. You assume they are alien created, and you’re curious how they work.

You guess a lesson on alien tools will have to be another day as he gets to work creating you a meal that smells delicious. He tells you it’s some sort of delicacy where he’s from, but you don’t question it. You haven’t eaten all day, too nervous about meeting him. So you take a bite, and to your surprise, it’s not half bad. There’s a few flavors you recognize in the dish, what look to be like noodles, and some kind of meat. You don’t ask the questions you normally would. You don’t want to spoil it if this is what you have to live with. 

“Would you like to join me while I wash up?” he asks while taking the plates away to place them in the dishwasher. A man who cooks and cleans up? You’ve died and gone to heaven. 

“Wash up? As in… shower?”

“Shower, bathe, whatever you wish to do.”

It’s hard to turn him down when he’s being so generous. “S-Sure.” Though, you are a little nervous. It’s been so long since you’ve even seen anyone in their underwear. Better to go ahead and get the awkwardness out of the way. This is your husband, after all. 

“I would love a bath. My muscles feel so tense from being nervous and I think I sweated so much from the anticipation of meeting you I would really like to wash up.”

He’s smiling at your rambling. Okay, you’re a lot nervous. Not that you don’t have confidence around men. You do and you enjoy taking charge and demanding what you want, but this is no ordinary man. This man is gorgeous, understanding, sweet, and kind. From out of this world. This man could have been written by a woman, maybe mother nature herself, and that’s what is making you so nervous. Why does he seem so perfect? You were so convinced the aliens were mean, and rough, and ugly, but he’s shown you the opposite. 

“Come with me,” is all he says before you’re following him up the stairs, down the hall into a room that looks more alien than human. The door slides to the ride to reveal marble steps leading to a dais filled with water. The platform sits low as a soft hum emits from the inviting bathing pool, lights glowing all around in alien markings you can’t decipher. 

“This is simply gorgeous,” you sigh, taking in the purple and blue fauna all around the room. Steam rolls off the water, shimmering beneath the glowing markings. 

“I’m happy it pleases you, I spent a while setting it up for you,” your big alien husband says, his tone giving him away that he could be blushing. “This is where I can bathe you every night while worshipping your body in any way you see fit. It is one of the more intimate ways we can bond so you can share your gift with me, so I feared I might be rushing things, but I admit, I was excited to show you.” 

You’re nearly brought to tears from the way he speaks to you as well as this steamy, inviting bathing pool he’s brought you to. Earth men could never. 

“Thank you,” you whisper a second before jumping into him. Your arms wrap around his neck while his hands pull you in closer. “No one has ever been this nice to me or done something so sweet.” He took you away from at least half your problems, doesn’t mind your cat, gave you a cozy, comfortable house to live in, cooked for you, built your own personal, lavish bathing pool, and wants to give you orgasms every night. Could your life get any better? You might have just fallen in love. It’s not too soon if he’s an alien, right? 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says, pulling away. “I just wanted to show you tonight, and if all we do is admire one another in our flesh then that’s okay with me.”

Your heart swells. Could your husband get any sweeter? “No, believe me, I want to.” Suddenly, you’re not feeling so shy. The confidence has returned in full force as you take your coat off once again, allowing it to fall to the floor.

“Well,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your eyes. “If you’re sure you’re comfortable…”

The mood shifts suddenly. You picked up on the tone of his voice, the uncertainty there. 

“Hey, are you alright?” You stop in the middle of unbuttoning your jeans once again, stepping to him to look into his eyes from below. 

“I just…” He lets out a breath and your heart sinks. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, either,” you remind him, reaching to give his hand a squeeze. “I’ll admit, this whole situation is bananas, and the fact that I have a husband who is an alien is wild to me, but we don’t have to rush anything just because that’s what we’re supposed to do.”

He looks into your eyes, the subtlest of wrinkles between his brows. “It’s just… my whole life I was trained to be a soldier. I’ve spent well over twenty of your earth years testing my combat skills, my war knowledge, my stamina and wit and endurance. It wasn’t until our last years in training did they talk about our need for a human mate from earth. I… I want to be a good mate to you, a good husband, because it’s important to both of our species survival, but I don’t know how.” 

Tears finally do begin to well behind your lids as he speaks. The familiar tightness tugs behind your eyes, heart breaking into pieces. You only thought about how the situation makes you feel, not how your new alien husband would feel. You feel a little sick at the thought of disregarding him just because he’s not human. Of course he has feelings and boundaries. 

“I’m sorry,” you exhale, shaking your head. His expression turns into confusion, brow wrinkling and lips parted. “I guess I’m just used to the men I’ve been with and their ability to only speak with their dicks. This is the most adult conversation I’ve ever had. I don’t know how many times I can say this, but earth men could never!” 

He chuckles as you speak, happy to see his smile return since he’s unbelievably beautiful when he does so. “I like the way you talk. It’s funny.”

“Funny?” You raise a brow, but you can’t stop yourself from grinning. 

“It makes me happy and I just want to keep smiling.”

Oh… he thinks you’re cute. Your stomach flip flops just the same as your heart. 

“Why don’t we start as slow as both of us need to.” You step away from him, gesturing toward the bathing pool. “Let’s just bathe tonight.” 

He agrees and you both begin to take your clothes off. There’s hesitation in every motion and he can’t stop stealing glances at you. Your jeans slide to the floor, his shirt follows. Piece by piece until you’re both naked before one another. His eyes travel down your body, taking in every enticing curve, every dip, every expanse of skin until he’s gulping. You take him in as well, the muscles twitching beneath your gaze, the smooth skin, the fact that his cock is half hard and growing as he looks at you. A big, thick, delicious looking cock that you aren’t sure how is going to fit inside of you, but God do you want to try. 

You don’t want to stare for too long because you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. If he was written by a woman, he was built by a God. It’s hard to pull your eyes away, but you finally manage to make your way to the edge of the steamy pool. The water is crystal clear, noticing glowing markings on the bottom and sides of the pool. The blue, shimmery light guides you to step down into the water, taking each step slow until you’re submerged up to your ribs. 

“How does it feel?” His voice behind you earns your attention. You turn to face him, watching as he follows your steps into the pool. The water comes to his waist as the two of you slowly dance around one another, gliding in the water as the heat relaxes your body. 

“Feels amazing. Like I’m being massaged all over. And what’s that smell?”

“Honey and rose. Comes from the water. The massage feeling is intentional due to the currents created from the vibrations in the walls.”

So that’s where the hum comes from. Interesting. “This is too cool, honestly.” You begin laughing, then he joins in. As if neither of you can believe the situation. All you can do is laugh. 

Until his smile fades and the mood shifts. “Can I see you?” he asks, and at first you’re confused, until his eyes sweep down your body. 

“Didn’t you see when we undressed?”

“I want to see all of it,” is all he says, eyes traveling down once again, and landing on the little V between your thighs. Your heart skips a beat. There’s no way you can tell him no. Not when he looks like he wants to eat you like his favorite dessert, he just may be a little confused about what toppings he wants. You’re willing to show him as you back up to the closest step to hoist yourself up onto the ledge of the bathing pool. His eyes are glued to you as you part your legs for him, giving him the perfect view of your pussy. 

He licks his lips, eyes darkening. The mood has shifted entirely. There’s a heaviness between the two of you now. One of longing and desire. He may not know all the intricacies of sex, but it’s clear he wants to. 

His exhale is heavy before he speaks. “Please, teach me.” He huffs again, like he’s struggling with holding himself together. “Teach me what I can do to make you feel good. 

You bite your lip for a second. “They didn’t prepare you for anything?”

“Not much. We got most of our knowledge from hearsay, though the basics were taught.” He takes another deep breath. “We expect our partners to teach us, that way their needs are met. It’s important to me for you to be pleasured properly. So, please, I’m not asking you to give me a lesson, I’m asking what makes you feel good…”

You inhale a sharp breath. The last thing you want to do is take things too far if he isn’t comfortable. Though, now you’re wondering if he just isn’t comfortable because he doesn’t want to let you down. That’s why it’s so important to him for you to show him.

So your hand falls between your thighs to begin stroking the soft skin of your pussy. Feather light strokes earn his attention quickly, watching so you only play for a few seconds. 

“If it makes you feel better,” you begin, middle finger finding your clit to begin teasing yourself there, “I’ve never done this with anyone before.” His eyes remain trained between your thighs, watching your finger softly circle your clit. 

“You’ve never touched yourself in front of someone?” he asks, and you bite your lip while shaking your head. A grin forms on his lips. “I’m your first?” 

You nod, then sigh when you dip your hand lower, finger easing inside of yourself to feel how wet you’ve become. Then you trace a line back to your clit, beginning to rub in slow circles once again. 

“I’m getting so wet already,” you whisper as he takes a step closer. “It must really turn me on when you watch me.” You don’t consider what you tell him dirty talk. It’s only the truth. You’ve never been watched like this. He takes another step toward you, and another, until he’s pressing his palms to the water’s edge near each of your thighs. 

“I hear it’s a good thing,” he says, looking between your pussy being pleasured and your head tossed back with lips parted. “If you get wet for me, it means you are enjoying yourself, yes?”

“God, yes…” Your fingers dip again, easing inside of you as your hips begin to roll against your hand. 

“Have you ever gotten this wet for anyone else?” he asks as his hand lazily falls onto your thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. The added attention, even if so innocent and curious, adds to the pleasure, jolts of electricity surging from where he's touched you. 

“I don’t think so,” you tell him in a raspy breath, and once again, it’s the truth. He’s a jealous alien, so he needs reassurance. You feel yourself dripping onto the edge of the pool. No one’s ever made you this hot just by watching you. Normally you have to work hard to get yourself close, but you feel yourself on the edge of bliss within minutes. Slowing down, you bring yourself back in, wanting more than anything to make this moment last between the two of you. 

“Good,” he groans, and it nearly brings you right back to the precipice of your orgasm. “I want to be the only one that gets to see you like this. Touching yourself. Dripping wet for me.”

“Yes!” you cry out, falling back to lean on one hand as he grips your thighs, parting them wider for him to see. The other hand continues to work your clit in messy, quick circles. Your breaths deepen as soft moans escape your lips. You’re getting close to the edge again just from the way he watches you touch yourself. 

“The noises you make are making my cock ache, baby,” he nearly growls, suddenly full of sexual frustration, but he keeps it together. Warmth floods your body from the pet name. It’s never sounded so good coming from anyone else’s mouth. “Does it feel that good, or do you just enjoy me watching you touch yourself that much?”

“Both,” you whimper seconds before the pleasure is bursting from between your thighs. You couldn’t hold yourself off any longer, warmth surging through your body as the bliss takes hold. You cry out for him, reaching to wrap an arm around his neck and pull his body close as you ride out the pleasure. He takes hold of you, wrapping you up in his embrace until you’re coming down and catching your breath. 

Panting, shaking, he holds you against his naked body for what feels like an eternity. He strokes your hair and back, pressing his lips to the top of your head. 

When you pull away, you look him in the eyes, then your gaze falls to his mouth. “Will you kiss me?” you ask, and a darkness ignites in his eyes, the question fueling his evident desire for you. He leans in, pressing his lips to your own. Softly at first, just to feel each other’s skin, then he leans in further. He takes hold of you and the moment, slipping his tongue past your lips to play, to tease. You can’t help but moan against him, becoming lost in the very thing you swore was going to be terrible. 

He finally pulls away from you to begin tending to you as he would if he were really bathing you. He washes your body with the softest cloth and the same smelling gel from a little vial he had prepared. While he washes you, he explores your body, taking his time to go over every inch until you begin to feel worked up again.

When you’re both clean, he helps you out of the pool to dry you off. You giggle at the ticklish spots and he laughs at your giggling. He already has a cozy looking pajama set prepared on the bed which you will share with him when he takes you to the bedroom. 

When you’re dressed for bed, you snuggle between the sheets and he pulls you as close as he can to his body. 

“Good night, wife,” he whispers, placing a kiss against your temple.

“Good night, alien husband,” you reply, smiling to yourself since it seems, not half, but all of your problems have disappeared because of him. 

[soularsss]

Drawing Likeness: with Tem!

okaay since a few people actually showed interest in me sharing a bit of what I've been doing to figure out how to really capture likeness, specifically Temuera Morrison, I figured id do my best to write it out

I am also going to entice you with some of my recent clone art! (oooh some of it is unreleaaasedd)

I am putting the whole thing under the cut because I have a feeling its going to be long:

Read more!!!

a couple disclaimers before we start

-This is not some definite post about how everyone should be drawing clones, nor is it in any way claiming that this is the right way. This is just my musings as I stare at a mans face for way too long and try to replicate it

-I am inexperienced. As kind as you all are to me, drawing real people is relatively new to me, capturing a persons identity through their features is difficult for anybody, and I am no different. I have watched many a video on likeness and had my share of classes, but If im being honest, i rarely put it into practice successfully. So there'll probably be errors in this post or things i will come back to in a few months and wish I had said/done differently

ANYWAYs you guys get my vibe im just here to ramble and today we are rambling about mr copy paste. I am doing this for Law, my clone boy, because I plan on delving further into oc fanart and I want to put effort into representing him correctly!

SO LETS BEGIN

Before even deciding what specific pose of a person I want to draw, I tend to grab a bunch of references and compile them like so

(all of these can be found on my pinterest)

Why so many? Well, we are about to delve into facial features, so when we are dealing with photos we have to take into account that there are an abundance of circumstances that will influence how a persons face will appear, some of these include:

focal length: All of these are taken on different devices, and focal length can play a big part in distorting faces

age will play a part, your face changes a bunch throughout your life!

lighting, while not as major, can muddy the waters and make it difficult to interpret facial planes and features

SO, to make sure we get a proper grasp of what's really going on, I like to make sure we have lots of options to compare and contrast with.

Next up! What I like to do is block out the main facial features with colour on different layers, the features I block out usually are the general face shape, eyebrows, eyes, nose and lips. But what you are looking for is the defining features of a person, so that could include other things! Maybe a scar, or some particularly prominent cheekbones.

I dont have any rhyme or reason when it comes to picking my colours, all that matters is you can see all the shapes clearly.

Now I may be biased, because Ive been staring at these for 4 hours, but notice how it still looks like Tem? :D

Anyways, now we can break these parts down, and you'll see what I mean about compare and contrast:

We'll start with isolating the facial shape, putting all these next to eachother you'll notice they arent exactly the same (partly because of my shoddy work) But the distinguishing features run through each shape! Namely the very soft rectangular shape I sketched out in the bottom right there. Along with his soft, wide jaw structure.

I did the same for the rest of his features!

You'll notice I highlight the prominent shapes and ratios,

When drawing anything, it is important to start from the very base shapes and build up.

When drawing something you want to look like someone, those shapes relative to other shapes is what makes it look like them.

I didnt use the same technique with his eyes and lips, but I wrote out some helpful info for them! More importantly for his eyes.

When drawing eyes, I find the most important part is where exactly I draw the creases, (along with the overall shape of the eye itself) it is important to understand where those will present themselves with hooded eyes.

NOW, with an understanding of his facial features in place, lets take a detour to colours:

before I start, a couple things to note:

-Temuera morrison versus the clone troopers in the animated shows:

While I love the animated shows they don't exactly stay close to their source material. Im going to link here to an excellent post discussing whitewashing specifically in relation to the clones.

Temuera is Māori, of Te Arawa (Ngāti Whakaue) and Tainui (Ngāti Maniapoto, Ngāti Rarua) whakapapa, and also has Scottish and Irish ancestry.

The Māori people are the indigenous Polynesian people of mainland New Zealand (Aotearoa). Māori originated with settlers from East Polynesia. Māori people often vary in skin tone, Skin colour doesn't determine ethnicity. There's often a correlation but it's not a requirement.

But that is a tangent! What we are aiming for is to stay true to Temuera.

Bringing back my reference photos from before, Ive colour picked a buncha values and theyre all over the place. Why doesnt this work?

Similarly to earlier, you have to take into account the photos themselves. Many things like lighting, colour grading (when it comes to filmography) and makeup, can alter how a skin colour presents in photo.

You can attempt to get true to life by swatching from certain places on the face. Here I've tried to pick some photos with good lighting, and I've also tried to avoid overly lit/shaded areas.

Tem has a very warm, tan skin tone, Instead of colour picking I tend to try and replicate it myself, but I do often bring in references to make sure Im staying true to the source!

a brief intermission to talk about colour theory, something I myself struggle with alot. Often, when putting in flat colours without a background, I will forget to make sure the colours i intend to use will work with the skin tone i have picked! (something that is apparent in older works of mine, not just in relation to clones, but in general, the colours I end up with stray largely from their original sources and it is something I am doing my best to keep in mind and improve in! Although I don't think i am nearly experienced enough in the topic to say I have succeeded yet lol.)

anyways back to Tem :))

Now we can put all of that into practice! Things to keep in mind when drawing out a piece next to a reference like this:

the distance between the eyebrows? how far down his face does his nose go? Basically just, in relation to eachother, where do all those shapes we found earlier, sit?

The screenshot above is from before I did it myself, but instead of directly tracing from the reference, a handy trick I use it to complete your sketch first, and then overlay a traced version to see where your inconsistencies are! Alternatively, you could move your sketch over the image, but I didnt do it that way so!! uh!! im sure it works exactly the same!!!!

When it comes to a final illustration, or any sketch that isnt a direct study, of course you can push and pull and stylise! You'll see below that I'm not exactly 1:1 to my reference photo either.

The important thing with stylisation, or at least my own personal understanding of stylisation is that you need to thoroughly understand the thing you are stylizing! "You need to know the rules to break them" and all that. While shapes, lines and rendering can change, when it comes to drawing someone, and making it look like them, you have to make sure to keep their core features true to source. Caricature can capture a persons vibe whilst drastically exaggerating features, but it will only look like them if you KEEP THOSE FEATURES!!!! SHAPES!!! AHHH!!

But that is just my perspective on the discussion of style versus realism, please dont take is as Law, I dont know what Im on about half the time!!

anyways, after fixing your sketch, add local colours!

I rexified him because why tf not! But this is where you can go crazy with that clone personalization!

And then here is a very very barely rendered version (if you guys want me to explain how i RENDER that would need to be a completely different post, and I havent had anyone ask about it yet so who knows! maybe one day) But I digress, hopefully you learnt something new through my ramblings! It has certainly helped me organize my thoughts and I have also found some areas I would like to focus more on in the future to improve my own art!

TLDR: In order to understand an object, be it a face or a building or literally anything, you have to break it down to its simplest forms, understanding LARGER shapes will help you immensely in the long run

If you guys like this sorta content do let me know! I'd be down to do similar things for armor/anything really, I am very anti gatekeep so really anything at all you want to know! Send me an ask :))

also if you see a spelling mistake.. i don’t know how that got there

[moonshynecybin]

if you have the time or inclination, can i ask what the deal with motogp/those boys is about? i don’t mean that in a mean way btw, im just curious and i love drama

i will try to be brief (1/4358)

SO! valentino rossi (born 16 February 1979, aquarius. italian.) is one of the most iconic people in motorsport, CERTAINLY in motogp. he's a 9 time world champion, your favorite driver's favorite driver, and is generally credited with revolutionizing the popularity of the sport by: a. being insanely good at motorcycle racing, and b. in general having a lot of fun about it. lethally charming and charismatic. all time active listening face. just a fun and funny dude that everyone pretty much likes and MANY younger riders idolize. VERY good at handling the media and his legions of cult-like fans. sometimes treated more like a god than a person. i was in the store yesterday and saw one of his themed monster energy drinks despite him retiring two years ago. his fun retirement activity is racing BMWs and running his own motogp team/training facility/cult for young italian racers. (this is where cele and bezz and basically every italian rider not named enea bastianini come from!)

so in 2011ish valentino had won 9 titles, and he decided to leave his current manufacturer and move to italian manufacturer ducati where he generally had a stone-cold terrible time. EXTENDED flop era for a couple years. any time ive watched content that covers this period everyone is so sad. so sad. anyways he GOES BACK to his old manufacturer in 2013 and is much more competitive. kind of just happy to be winning sometimes and be on the podium. 2013 is also where marc comes in. what could go wrong.

marc marquez! (born 17 february 1993, almost exactly 14 years after vale which i'm sure means nothing. also an aquarius. spanish.) childhood sports idols include: dani pedrosa, VALENTINO ROSSI.

marc carved his way up through the feeder championships until casey stoner unexpectedly retired at the end of the 2012 season leaving a seat empty on a VERY good bike for his rookie season. rocked up and was immediately VERY good at winning and very good at being a crazyinsane person on track that made people mad at him lol. hilarious habit of pissing people off via on-track crimes that i really enjoy. motogp riders are already crazy (they do death sport) but marc is famous for taking risks no one else will. basically if he's not winning, he's crashed out or he's maybe crashed YOU out. he wins the championship as a rookie (insane) and the next year's championship as well. heir apparent to the throne. sweet and goofy but is now known as one of the more reserved riders with the press. probably because of all this drama tbh. undisputed GOAT of acting like a slut on camera

throughout 2013-2014, marc and valentino had a good relationship! marc very clearly idolizes him and is like. bowled over completely with delight every time valentino looks his way. vale likes him! theyre buds! truly an endless well of pictures of vale explaining something with his hands and marc babygirling at him. highly recommend checking out @pgaslys every rosquez podium tag for contextual brain damage. insane times.

(IT SHOULD BE NOTED: before the 2015 season marc visits valentino at his practice track in italy, where they compete to break the track record and almost kill each other bc they are so pathologically competitive. APPARENTLY, marc showed up with some official mechanics and valentino was a little pissed off because it was supposed to be a like. fun thing. and to marc winning is the most fun! if you dont come to win why come at all! anyways marc breaks the track record and credits that to cooling their relationship a bit. good post about it here.) here they are that day:

so what could go wrong, right? WELL. valentino has a chance to win his tenth title in 2015. marc is on a flop bike and crashed a bunch so he's not in the championship conversation but vale is leading the standings from the jump, with his main opponent being jorge lorenzo. i think he really wanted that tenth, and dedicated himself to the season in a way he hadnt really ever before (he was a very effortless competitor when he was young. gym-adverse. king).

marc and him start to get into some scraps along the way, notably in argentina (where they made contact and marc crashed out), assen (where they made contact AGAIN and vale won the race), and phillip island (marc won. GREAT race available here for free). phillip island sees vale finishing P4 and jorge lorenzo finishing ahead of him in P3, reducing his championship lead by quite a bit. no real indication of any tension during these races, and they are asked about it!

this is where valentino's delulu era begins! basically, ahead of the next race (🔥🔥SEPANG 2015🔥🔥) in the pre-race press conference, he goes after marc, saying he was deliberately sabotaging valentino in phillip island because marc wanted jorge to win. in valentino's mind. marc wants jorge to win because a. they are both spanish (??) and b. it would mean marc has to win less titles to equal valentino's total. record scratch. freeze frame.

everyone (including marc!) thinks valentino is joking at first bc that is bananascrazyinsane. he was not joking. (it should be noted valentino STILL thinks this lol.) anyways marc is completely blindsided. he thought they were good! yeah they've been chippy on track but that's racing!! truly like. 22 years old and your friend (AND CHILDHOOD IDOL.) is calling you a snake in front of your face with NO prior warning to the entire motogp establishment writ large including your coworkers and REPORTERS. valentino wont even look at him the entire time. the press conference is available here on vimeo. excruciating gifsets of marc's very stiff bewildered PR smile found here.

anyways so. the race. marc is uh. pissed off. he's stuck to valentino like GLUE the entire time and they trade places a bunch of times. now marc is kind of famous for being a little asshole on track anyways, but its not like he's gonna get out of valentino's way and just let him pass after what he said in that press conference so. hand in unlovable hand <3. truly very fun to watch imo even with the sword of damocles hanging over them. marc is fucking on one the entire race and basically refuses to give valentino an inch until vale gets so fed up with his antics that um. well. it certainly looks like he kicked him. vale says he didnt, and that his leg accidently made contact with marc's bike. marcs says. he fucking kicked me. judge for yourself here!

so valentino gets hauled in front of race direction and penalized for the next race (the deciding race for the championship). he has to start from the back of the grid and it kills his chance at a tenth title stone dead. vale places the blame squarely on marc's shoulders and his legions of fans decide marc is public enemy number 1. him and jorge have to get security at the next race because of death threats, someone tries to break into marc's childhood home back in spain, marc's mom throws away all of marc's valentino merchandise from when he was a kid. vale says nothing.

but the thing about marc. is that he loves very hard and chooses his people pretty carefully. didnt really move out of his tiny hometown until he turned 30 and also made his baby brother move in with him kind of guy. so all this is not really enough for him to let go of vale entirely! 2016 is where the pain lives! bc marc is still reaching out and vale himself stays pretty cold for a couple years. they seem to faintly reconcile for a bit but its not anywhere like it was before sepang.

the real nail in the coffin is argentina 2018. another insane race where marc has to start from the back and goes on a rampage through the field and crashes out like three people. i cant remember. this race is also available on youtube for free its very entertaining. every five minutes marc does something insane. vale is one of the people marc crashes out and afterwardshe goes on a big rant about how marc is destroying the sport and is actively dangerous. marc goes to valentino's garage immediately after the race to apologize and vale doesnt even look at him. he gets turned away at the door after vale's best friend/assistant/henchman yells in his face1!!! and thats kind off all she wrote in terms of reconciliation

anyways that's where we are! they are both very much not over it. vale goes on podcasts and is like. in 30 years i will still be mad, im literally never going to get over it it was such a big and unfair thing and i think about it all the time like it was yesterday. and marc (lying) says as time goes by i dont even think about it :) and i care about valentino less and less :))) but yes he hurt me deeply lol. CANNOT stress enough how much this entire thing is now inextricably liked to both of their legacies. the two arguable GOATs of a sport had an epic fleetwood mac-style beatles breakup divorce and everyone wants to talk about it allllll day long including me :)

additional context! really recommend checking out marc's little docuseries he put out this year about his recent struggles with injury. he is so not right in the head and it goes over the valentino drama in ep3. theres also hitting the apex (2015) which goes over the 2013 season (marc's rookie season) and is a really good introduction to all the major players at the time. its like less than 2 hrs long so its not too much of a commitment

also recommend following scholars @babynflames, @its-always-silly-season, @baking-soda, and @f1vegas as well as many others im forgetting rn bc its 2am!

[akascow]

derek going around making his pack with people who own basically just sweatpants and hoodies only for them to show up in his posse with an entire leather wardrobe that they definitley did not have before do you think he took them on a shopping spree at like jcpenney bc they needed to match his dark mysterious black leather and jeans aesthetic

they wake up turned and hes like congrats ur not dead, now get up we're going to dillards

isaac :((