#maybe this is a hint to what i like right now…

[museanddream]

Holy (Alexia Putellas x reader)

Summary: You’d do anything for Alexia, that’s why you’re her good girl.

Warnings: 🔞 | praise kink, anal sex, bottom!reader

Word count: 3.3k

“Shh, it’s fine. You’ll take it.” A pause, and then a question. “Isn’t that right?”

Alexia’s voice is soft, the hand that strokes up and down your side even softer, but it doesn’t distract you from the blunt head of the dildo harnessed to her hips that’s currently nudging against your asshole. She doesn’t push in yet, maybe sensing your anxiety, but the silicone pressed against the tight ring of muscle is a gentle reminder of what’s to come.

Realising that Alexia is still waiting for your answer, you gently breathe out and say, “Yes.”

“Yes?” Alexia echoes. “Of course you’ll take it. You’re always such a good girl for me.”

She’s already given you a teaser of what it’s going to feel like, already stretched you open with three of her fingers, but you don’t think anything could have prepared you for the sensation as she starts to push forward with her hips. It’s not so much the feeling itself, but the thought of what she’s doing, the realisation that Alexia is taking your ass. That, and the look of wonder on Alexia’s face as she watches where she ever so slowly enters you.

You’ve never considered yourself to be particularly religious, but the whole experience feels some kind of holy.

“Ale,” you whimper.

She responds by hushing you again, then draws another noise from your throat as she starts rocking her hips slowly back and forth, even with just the head of her cock inside you.

“I’ve got you.” Alexia’s voice is low and calm. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

With each gentle thrust, she sheathes herself deeper within you. You already feel so much fuller than you did with her fingers, yet it’s somehow still not enough. You want her to fill you, to fuck you, to take your ass in the same way she would normally use your cunt.

“Alexia.” You repeat her name, trying to urge her deeper. “Please.”

Your hand reaches down and grapples at her hip, your fingers eventually wrapping around the hanging end of one of the harness straps, trying to urge her closer.

Her hips stilling, she swats at your hand, a little crease forming between her eyebrows as she shakes her head.

“Enough of that,” she warns you. “I can only make you feel good if you behave.”

You drop your hand obediently, instead trying to use only your eyes to implore Alexia to just move.

“Good girl,” she praises you, causing your pussy to clench around nothing, which only emphasises the stretch of her cock in your ass. “You don’t need to do anything except lie there and look pretty. I’m going to take such good care of you. My perfect little whore.”

The way that Alexia says the word is reverent, like it’s a term of endearment. You’d be willing to do pretty much anything to have her call you a whore again and maybe that’s her entire plan, because she takes the opportunity to slide the rest of the way in until the entire length of her cock is nestled inside you, fuller than you’ve ever felt before.

“How does that feel, cariño? How do I feel inside you?”

“Good.” Your answer is brief, unable to string together much more than single words. “Full. Fuck. Ale, so full.”

She looks down at you with a hint of pride on her face, her hands stroking up and down your thighs where they’re hooked around her waist.

“Good. I’m going to start fucking you now.”

Alexia does this sometimes, she narrates everything that’s happening while she fucks you like she’s a casual spectator, not the one actually doing it all to you. And it drives you wild, hearing her voice so cool and level while you feel like you’re losing your goddamn mind with her buried to the hilt inside you.

She repositions slightly, pulling you right to the edge of the mattress so that she’s standing at the foot of the bed with your legs wrapped around her. You let out a cry as the toy shifts inside you and she soothes you with another hush.

“I’ve got you,” she says, even as she withdraws nearly all the way, before pushing back in almost as slowly.

Being fucked by Alexia is always the best kind of torture. She likes to tease and tonight has been no exception. She ate you out for what felt like an eternity before going anywhere near your asshole, working you up with her tongue on your clit until you were nearly trembling, only pulling away when you were right on the brink of orgasm.

That’s when she turned her attention to your ass. You’ve talked about it for a while but the first touch of her tongue against your rim, the stretch of her lubed-up finger breaching your asshole for the first time, is something that no amount of talking could’ve prepared you for. She worked you open slowly, adding a second finger and then a third only when she was absolutely sure you were ready for it, when you were pretty much begging for her to fill you up.

Even now, with the strap, she doesn’t rush. She’s not hesitant, but it’s slow and measured. She’s in absolute control and you can only lie there and take as much as she’s willing to give you.

“Ale,” you whine.

Without breaking the steady push of her hips, Alexia’s gaze meets yours.

“What? You want more?” She reads your mind but you don’t dare nod in response. “Am I not fucking you well enough?”

She punctuates her words by somehow pushing deeper, but still just as slow. You can feel every inch of silicone stretching you open as she slides in and out.

It’s the same as when she fucks your cunt, the same pleasurable stretch, the same feeling of having Alexia surrounding you and filling you up, yet it’s completely different too. The pleasure is more of an ache, bristling under the surface and only serving to remind you how empty your pussy is, how close you were earlier when Alexia’s mouth was on you. Each thrust into your ass feels like it’s turning you inside out.

You love it and hate it at the same time. Love the way it feels to have Alexia filling your ass. Hate the fact that she’s giving you so much and it’s somehow still not enough.

“Please, Ale. Need to come.”

Alexia’s hips still and she gives you a stern look that almost has you immediately cowering away and apologising for being so needy.

“Patience, cariño. You’ll come when I want you to come.”

You have no control over the whine that escapes from your throat.

“What’s the matter, bebé? You trust me, right?”

You take a couple of deep breaths. Alexia’s large hands are on your thighs, fingers splayed out against the soft skin and tracing tiny paths back and forth that certainly aren’t helping to temper your need for release. But you do trust her. As torturous as each second that she denies you is, if Alexia says that she’ll make you come, then you know it’ll happen.

Patience. It’s never been one of your greatest virtues. Especially not when Alexia is involved. Especially not when you’ve been wanting her to take your ass like this for what feels like forever.

Another deep exhale, then you answer, “Yeah.”

Alexia’s eyes soften, her fingers tighten appreciatively against the thighs that are still wrapped around her hips.

“So you know I’m going to take good care of you, don’t you?”

You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from her face.

“You’ll come for me, I promise. Just let me have my way with you first. Okay?”

Her voice soothes you, the lyrical way that her accent curls around each word. There’s comfort in having her so close and you manage to relax, even with her cock buried to the hilt in your ass.

Alexia must feel it, for she smiles and softly murmurs, “Good girl.”

She starts moving again, with more of a rhythm now. Still so full, still aching for something in your cunt or on your clit, but the feeling Alexia fucking you properly sends more endorphins to your brain with each slap of her hips against your thighs.

When she takes you like this, you’re reminded of everything you love about Alexia. The physical stuff - how strong she is, how powerful, how majestic she looks with lean muscle and sun kissed skin towering over you. But also how well she takes care of you, the reassuring softness of her hands on your thighs and the look of wonder on her face as she watches where her cock splits you open. How she knows your body well enough to give you exactly how much you can take and not a fraction more.

Alexia’s hands slide around your thighs, pushing your legs up away from their resting place around her hips. You reach down to help her, a hand behind the crease of each knee pulling your legs up towards your head, spreading yourself wide enough that she can see everything.

There’s nowhere for you to hide.

“If only you could see what I can see. Your pretty little asshole stretched open for my cock. Taking it so well.”

Her words of praise make you even wetter, if that were somehow possible. Or maybe it’s just the new position, spread out like this, that makes you feel like you’re dripping down to where her cock enters you.

Still fucking into you, Alexia doesn’t even seem to be breaking into a sweat. Like this is all so routine for her.

Like she isn’t taking your ass for the first time.

You’d maybe think she was completely unaffected by it all, if it wasn’t for the look on her face. Transfixed by the sight of you spread open, wet, and taking her so readily, you’ve never seen such hunger in her eyes, like she’s ready to devour you completely.

“You were just made for my cock, weren’t you?” She asks, her voice husky with arousal. “All your holes, just begging for me to fill them.”

One of her hands moves between your legs, brushing across your sensitive clit and collecting your arousal on her fingertips, before dipping lower to tease at your entrance.

Alexia’s voice seems to drop impossibly lower as her gaze flits up to your face and she says, “I bet you want something in here too.”

There’s a hint of a smirk on her pretty lips, coupled with a knowing look in her eyes. You hardly need to beg for her to know the truth.

But you’ll do it anyway.

“Ale,” you gasp, as her fingers toy with you, teasing, probing, but never dipping inside. “Please.”

“Of course you do. Such a perfect slut.”

Her fingers tease you, the same way she toyed with your ass earlier while prepping you for the same cock that she still rhythmically thrusts into you. Giving you just a hint of what you want, but not enough to satisfy you.

“Ale.”

“Go on,” she says, the curl of her lips taunting you. “Tell me what you want.”

Alexia already knows what you want, proving it by pushing two of her fingers into you just as far as the first knuckle, but she withdraws them just as quickly to rub tiny circles around your clit instead.

“Your fingers.”

The fingers in question slide torturously slowly down from your clit, stopping at your entrance just as Alexia asks, “Where?”

She’s such a fucking tease. You’d perhaps call her out on it, if you weren’t helplessly impaled on her cock. If you weren’t reliant on her for the orgasm that your body feels like it’s needed for hours.

So instead you manage to helplessly whine, “My pussy.”

Without breaking the steady rock of her hips, she starts to push her slippery fingers into your cunt. The stretch as she coaxes two of her fingers inside you steals your breath away. You’ve taken them countless times before, but never like this. Never with her cock already filling your ass.

“Ale…”

Her name passes your lips like a warning. A warning against what, you’re not exactly sure. Maybe that you’re never going to be the same after this. Or that she might have to fuck you like this every time for you to be fully satisfied.

Or that you’re going to come really fast now that Alexia is fucking both of your holes.

Each thrust of the strap into your ass is shattering your existence into thousands of tiny pieces, each press of her fingers into your cunt is reassembling those splinters into a different version of yourself.

“Ale.”

She ignores you, though you could swear that the snap of her hips against your ass speeds up just a fraction after you breathe her name like a prayer.

When she presses her thumb against your clit each time she curls her fingers inside you, you know that you’re a goner.

“Alexia, I’m going to come.”

“No,” comes Alexia’s immediate reply. “You’re going to wait.”

“I can’t.”

Her free hand comes up to your jaw, with her thumb on one side and her fingers splayed across the opposite cheek. Her grip is gentle, yet firm enough to lift your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet hers.

“You can.” Alexia tells you, before she throws it back to you with a question. “Can’t you?”

Maybe you’re drunk on the pleasure of her stretching you open in two places, maybe it’s just the intensity of her eye contact that is compelling you to agree with her. But Alexia has given you absolutely no reason to not trust her tonight.

As much as you can with her fingers gripping your jaw, you nod.

“Good girl.”

Until now, Alexia has been so careful with you. Despite the supposed vulgarity of where she’s fucking you, it’s never been about taking something from you, instead what she can give you.

Only now does she start to be a little more selfish.

She leans over you, one hand still wrapped loosely around your throat like a necklace and the other curling two fingers into your cunt. Her hips pick up the pace, finally taking her own pleasure.

Alexia fucks you hard, hips snapping against your ass, but you can take it. You want it, you want her, and there’s just a split second where you appreciate how skilfully she’s primed you to be able to take her like this, before it overwhelms you.

Alexia is everywhere all at once. The pleasure almost smothers you, or maybe it is Alexia’s hand around your throat cutting off your air supply. All you know is that suddenly you’re holding your breath as you try not to come before she allows it. Every muscle in your body is tightly coiled, ready to snap at any moment. Your thighs shake from the exertion of holding it all back.

“Alexia.” You manage to choke out her name in another warning.

“Yes,” Alexia hisses, even as she continues to fuck you. “Dios mio, you’re so good for me. Giving me all your precious holes to fuck. Letting me own you.”

“Ale … can’t …”

“My perfect girl.”

Her thumb on your clit already had you teetering on the precipice. But it’s her praise that pushes you headfirst into your orgasm.

The pleasure of it wrecks you. You’re spinning through space and time, no idea which way is up and which is down. As your back arches and your body shakes, all you’re really aware of is Alexia, her hands on your neck and inside you cunt, her cock still filling your ass. And she’s the only thing that matters, that and the way she makes you feel.

As the pleasure bleeds away into pure affection, you realise that Alexia is still rutting into you. You feel the stretch more than ever, especially as the aftershocks have you still clenching around the toy, and you open your mouth to ask her to slow down, when you realise that she’s close too.

The signs are unmissable. The little crease between her eyebrows, the glaze in her eyes, the tiny grunts she lets out with each thrust.

“Yes, baby,” you encourage her. Her fingers slip out of your cunt and she leans further over you, single-minded as she fucks you with one goal in mind. “Come for me. Come in my ass.”

As well as she knows your body, you know hers too, and you know exactly what to say to tip her over the edge into her orgasm. Sure enough, just a couple of thrusts later, her hips are stuttering inside you as the climax hits her.

You wrap yourself around Alexia, hands flat against the back of her shoulders and legs hooked around the small of her back, holding her as close as possible while she shudders through her orgasm. Alexia responds by pressing herself into you, swathes of hot skin against yours and her face nuzzling into your neck as the last few aftershocks tremble until she falls still in your arms.

For long moments, the only movement is the steady rise and fall as you both catch your breath. Your breathing syncs up with Alexia’s, until you’re both relaxed and heavy-limbed.

“Wow,” Alexia exhales, when she finally pushes herself up onto one arm so that she can look down at you with a warm smile, her eyes glowing with affection. Her free hand sweeps away some of the hair that is plastered to the sheen of sweat on your forehead. “You are just incredible.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, because in the wake of your orgasm, being praised by her is somehow more reason to feel shy than the fact she’s just taken your ass.

The thought makes you clench around the toy that’s still inside you, except that the sensation is much less comfortable than it was when you were brimming with pleasure and desperate to get off.

Alexia must see the wince that you try to conceal, because she presses her lips against yours, then murmurs, “I need to pull out. I’ll be gentle.”

She eases the toy out slowly, perhaps with even more care than she took to fill you. Part of you wishes that she’d pull out in one swift movement, like ripping off a band-aid, but soon you feel the toy slip free and finally, finally you can relax.

Alexia makes quick work of the harness, expertly unstrapping herself and tossing the toy to the floor beside the bed with a thud, before she settles on her back and pulls you into her side, her strong arms wrapping you in their cocooning warmth.

You settle against her, your head resting on her shoulder and your leg hooked across her hips, wondering when you became so lucky to get to call yourself hers.

Alexia, clearly, has other thoughts on her mind.

Her lips press against your temple, then she murmurs amusedly against your skin, “We’ll try a bigger one next time, no?”

You’re perfectly content like this, perfectly in love with this incredible woman, and you’d probably let her take you in any which way she wants to.

Right now, however, you’re too sated and exhausted to think of anything except sleep.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ale,” you mumble sleepily into her shoulder.

You feel her lips curl up in a smile where they’re pressed against your forehead as her arms squeeze you closer.

“Amor, that’s not a no…”

[writingbuckets]

The Hot Take: Part 3

paige bueckers x influencer!reader

wc: 2.8k

a/n: the only i have to say is that i shocked myself with my flirting... enjoy!

**********

After your night at the game, it feels like the internet has exploded. Your mentions are on fire with fans on both sides—some praising your brutal honesty about Paige, others calling you out for downplaying her talent. It’s only natural that you decide to dedicate an entire podcast episode to the experience.

You settle into your recording setup, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves—after all, tonight is a first. Across the table sits Paige Bueckers, cool and composed, though you catch a hint of mischief in her eyes as she adjusts her mic. You take a deep breath and lean in, grinning at your co-host before addressing the audience.

“Welcome back to The Hot Take! And tonight, we’re in for a treat. As you’ve probably guessed, we’ve got a special guest in the studio… the one, the only, Paige Bueckers!” You gesture toward her dramatically, and your co-host plays a quick soundbite of applause and crowd cheers, adding to the show’s theatrics.

Paige laughs, crossing her arms as she glances at you. “The crowd goes wild. I didn’t think you’d actually let me come on here, considering all the things you’ve said about me.”

You shoot her a mock-offended look. “What things? I’m nothing if not fair and unbiased.”

She raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eye. “Oh, totally. Because your comment was so fair and unbiased.”

Your co-host snickers. “Well, Paige, you’re in the right place if you want to get your revenge. Y/N here is known for her ‘brutal honesty.’ But hey, tonight might be a chance for you to change her mind.”

“Is that a challenge?” Paige asks, leaning forward, her gaze never leaving yours.

“Depends. You think you’re up for it?” you reply, meeting her eyes head-on, enjoying the charge of the challenge between you two.

“Oh, I’m always up for a challenge,” she responds smoothly, flashing a grin that has you momentarily caught off guard.

Your co-host breaks the tension with a laugh. “Alright, alright, let’s jump right in. Y/N, you’ve had plenty to say about Paige in the past. Care to share some of those hot takes now that she’s here to defend herself?”

You clear your throat, trying to hide your smirk. “Alright, let’s get one thing straight,” you say, addressing both the mic and Paige. “As much as it pains me to admit this…” You pause dramatically, shooting a look her way. “Bueckers actually impressed me the other night.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Really? I didn’t think you’d ever admit that.”

“I know, it’s shocking, but credit where credit’s due,” you continue. “I mean, you’re quick on the court, you know your angles, and—dare I say it—you know how to work a crowd.”

Paige laughs, eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, so you were paying attention. Here I was, thinking you came just to judge.”

“Oh, I absolutely came to judge,” you reply, grinning. “But I also got to see you actually back it up with skill. It was… not as overrated as I’d assumed.” You shoot her a wink, and she laughs, shaking her head.

“High praise,” she replies, feigning a look of being overwhelmed. “I didn’t realize tonight was all about showering me with compliments.”

Your co-host jumps in, clearly amused by the dynamic. “Wait, Y/N, are you actually going soft? Compliments? Feeling a little flustered, maybe?”

You shake your head, grinning. “Don’t get it twisted. I’m just saying, maybe I underestimated you.” You turn to Paige. “Don’t let it go to your head, though. I’m not here to just hype you up.”

Paige leans back in her chair, looking entirely at ease. “Don’t worry. I can handle a little constructive criticism. Hit me with your best shot.”

You take the opportunity, leaning forward with a smirk. “Alright, if you insist. Here’s my take: For all that talent, you could be a bit more creative with your moves. Sometimes it feels like you rely on what’s tried and true instead of taking risks.”

She smirks back. “And sometimes critics don’t realize the importance of consistency,” she counters smoothly. “Winning isn’t about impressing people—it’s about doing what works.”

“Touché,” you reply, though you’re secretly impressed by her response. You decide to press a little further. “Alright, so if it’s all about winning, how do you handle the pressure that comes with it? Isn’t there a part of you that wants to switch things up now and then?”

Paige leans forward, crossing her arms on the table. “I get that all the time. But you know, winning takes priority. Switching things up? That’s for off the court.” Her gaze holds yours, and for a second, you wonder if she’s talking about more than just basketball.

Your co-host notices the silent exchange and interrupts with a grin. “Okay, okay, I feel like there’s a whole vibe happening here that I did not sign up for!”

The comment pulls you back, and you laugh, brushing it off. “Nothing happening here,” you insist, stealing a quick glance at Paige.

Paige holds back a smirk, shrugging. “Sure, whatever you say.” But the gleam in her eye says otherwise.

Trying to keep things on track, you steer the conversation back to basketball, although the flirtatious edge remains. “Alright, Bueckers, one more thing. I’ll admit, you’ve got talent. But do you ever worry about being put in a box? People see you a certain way, and that’s how they’ll always see you.”

Paige pauses, and for a moment, the playful banter takes on a serious note. “Yeah, I get that. People think they know you, based on what they see online or on the court. But the truth is, they’re only seeing one side.”

It’s unexpectedly candid, and you nod, finding a bit of yourself in her answer. “Yeah. I get that. People always think they know everything from what they see online, but there’s always more, right?”

Paige’s gaze softens just slightly, and she nods. “Exactly. Sometimes I think it would be nice if people saw more than the ‘player’ version of me.”

You raise an eyebrow, catching the hint in her tone. “So… what would that look like, Bueckers?”

She gives you a playful smirk, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe you’ll find out if you’re lucky.”

Your co-host interjects, clearly amused. “Did I miss something here, or is this turning into a date?”

Both you and Paige laugh, shaking your heads in sync. “Not quite,” you say quickly, though your heart skips a beat.

Before wrapping up, you give Paige the last word. “Alright, Bueckers, we’ve had our fun. Any final words for our listeners?”

She leans toward the mic, glancing at you with a grin. “Only that this isn’t the last time you’ll hear from me, Y/N. I’m sticking around to make sure you don’t underestimate me again.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Well, bring your best game, then. I’ll be ready.”

The episode wraps up with lingering tension and the audience buzzing with intrigue, speculating wildly in the comments and social media. As you both step away from the mics, Paige meets your gaze with a small smile.

“Nice job,” she says, extending a hand.

You shake it, feeling the warmth of her grip, the playful energy still sparking between you. “Likewise, Bueckers. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you next time.”

She gives you a wink. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

**********

Not even an hour after the episode goes live, the reactions flood in. Your notifications blow up with fire emojis, heart-eyes, and endless comments as fans dissect every word, every sly look you exchanged with Paige, and every playful jab you threw her way. People seem to be either thrilled by your shift in tone or mourning the sharper edge of your usual critique. But there’s one thing they all seem to agree on—your chemistry with Paige was undeniable, and they’re dying to see where this dynamic goes next.

Then come the memes: screenshots of you glancing at Paige with a mix of disbelief and amusement, clips from older episodes where you roasted her, and side-by-sides comparing your expressions with Paige’s iconic moments on the court. One of your favorites is a split image of you with an exaggerated, eye-rolling expression, paired with Paige’s confident smirk from one of her highlight games. People are clearly having a field day, and you find yourself chuckling at the creativity as you scroll through the tag.

But just as you’re considering logging off for the night, a notification grabs your attention. It’s a comment from none other than Paige herself.

@PaigeBueckers: “Glad to see you’re finally catching on, Y/N. Game recognizes game, right? 😏”

You smirk, typing back a quick reply.

@notY/N: “Don’t get too comfortable, Bueckers. I’m just warming up. 😏”

Paige responds almost instantly, and suddenly, it’s a back-and-forth on full display for everyone to see.

@PaigeBueckers: “Comfortable? Nah. Just giving you something to talk about on that next episode of yours.”

@notY/N: “Who says you’re interesting enough for a second episode?”

@PaigeBueckers: “Guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong, then. Challenge accepted?”

The thread quickly spirals as fans jump in, hyping up every comment exchange, adding their own captions, and stirring up theories about your “rivalry.” By the time you close the app, #YNPBChallenge is trending, with people eagerly waiting for your next move. And though you won’t admit it, you’re already curious about hers.

Within hours, sports outlets start covering the “feud.” Clips of your episode circulate, paired with screenshots of Paige’s comments. Twitter is filled with fans trying to decode every little interaction, with hashtags like #PaigeAndY/N and #RivalryGoals popping up as the top trends. Some fans eagerly ship you and Paige, while others are taking sides, wanting to see if your critique holds up in future episodes.

Some of Paige’s teammates even get in on the fun, teasing her about the exchanges. Azzi Fudd, in particular, tweets, “So… when’s the first date, @paigebueckers? 👀”

You laugh when you see it, because of course Paige’s friends would be watching the whole thing unfold. You decide to add your own little stir to the pot.

Replying to Azzi’s tweet, you type, “First date? I think she’d need to step up her game a bit first.”

Not even a minute later, Paige replies to you directly: “Challenge accepted.”

The thread is flooded with reactions, and for a moment, it’s as if the entire internet is watching you two flirt in real time. You know it’s all in good fun, but there’s an undeniable thrill to it.

After the whirlwind of social media reactions, you finally step away from your phone, still replaying the day’s events. There’s an undeniable energy to this back-and-forth with Paige. Even through playful jabs and witty comebacks, there’s something deeper simmering—something that leaves you more curious than you’d like to admit.

Just as you’re about to call it a night, a new notification lights up your screen: a direct message from Paige herself. You hesitate for a moment, feeling an odd mix of excitement and nerves, and then finally open it.

Paige: “So… I’m dying to know—did you expect all of this to blow up the way it did?”

Her message catches you off guard. You’d expected something more competitive, maybe another cheeky comment. But this question feels more open, almost as if she’s genuinely curious about your perspective on all this unexpected attention.

Y/N: “Honestly? Not at all. I mean, I’m used to a little backlash, but this? Everyone’s treating it like it’s the story of the year.”

Paige: “Right? It’s kind of insane, but I have to say, you seem to handle it like a pro.”

A smile tugs at your lips. The words are simple enough, but there’s a warmth there, a hint of respect that takes you by surprise. You hadn’t expected Paige to be this down-to-earth.

Y/N: “I guess that’s part of the job, right? You get used to it, even when it’s… unexpected.”

Paige: “Guess we both know what that���s like. I mean, people see us a certain way, but they don’t really get the whole picture.”

Her message resonates with you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. It’s something you’ve thought about often—the assumptions people make, the way fans and critics alike paint you in broad strokes, not really seeing the person underneath. The more you think about it, the more you realize that Paige might understand that better than most.

Y/N: “True. Everyone thinks they know us based on what they see online, but there’s a lot that doesn’t make the highlight reel, right?”

Paige: “Exactly. It’s easy to play a role, keep it simple. But sometimes, it’s nice to just be real with someone who gets it.”

There’s a pause, a subtle weight to her words that makes you wonder if this is just harmless banter, or something more.

Y/N: “So, you’re saying I’m good enough to get the ‘real’ Paige Bueckers?”

Paige: “I’m saying maybe you’re not as overrated as you think you are, Y/N.”

You can’t help but laugh, the slight warmth of her compliment balanced by her usual dose of teasing. But even as the conversation winds down, a part of you can’t shake the feeling that this might be the start of something… different. The back-and-forth, the playful ribbing—it’s beginning to feel like more than just banter.

You let out a soft laugh, staring at the screen a little longer than you meant to, absorbing Paige’s last message. You’d expected a snarky retort, maybe a playful jab, but this? This is something else, something that has you wondering if she’s just as curious as you are. Before you can overthink it, you decide to keep the conversation going.

Y/N: “Alright, I’ll take that as a compliment—coming from someone who’s probably had a lifetime supply of them.”

Paige: “You’d think so, but it’s funny how most of them don’t mean much. I think I’ve just gotten good at smiling and nodding.”

Her honesty catches you off guard. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability, one that’s different from the playful façade you’d seen at the game and in her comments. You find yourself softening, recognizing a piece of yourself in her words.

Y/N: “I get it. People are quick to build you up, but they don’t always see the work behind it. Or the stuff you keep off-camera.”

Paige: “Exactly. Sometimes it feels like it’s just about meeting everyone’s expectations.”

You feel a pang of understanding. Despite the banter, the jabs, you realize there’s a part of her that just wants to be seen for more than the hype, more than the image fans have painted of her. And, you realize, maybe that’s why this little rivalry-turned-conversation feels different than anything you’ve experienced before.

Y/N: “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m here for the real version of you—whatever that looks like.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, and you wonder if you’d gone too far. But just as you’re about to backpedal, her response pops up.

Paige: “Same goes for you, Y/N. Guess that means we’ll have to see what that actually looks like, right?”

Her words make your stomach do an unexpected flip. It’s an invitation, subtle but clear, to get to know her beyond the rivalry, beyond the image. And suddenly, it feels like this whole thing—the online banter, the “feud,” the unexpected DM—has been leading up to this moment.

Y/N: “Guess so. So, next time we bump into each other… coffee? Or are you more of a smoothie person?”

She replies almost instantly.

Paige: "Coffee works, as long as you promise not to trash-talk me in front of the barista."

You laugh, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the banter and everything to do with her openness.

Y/N: “Fine, I’ll tone it down. But don’t get too comfortable—I’m not going easy on you.”

Paige: “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

There’s a pause after that, a comfortable silence that feels like both a beginning and a challenge. As you put your phone down, a smile still on your face, you realize you’re genuinely excited to see where this goes.

[samgirl98]

Dammit Clockwork! A Little Warning Next Time?

Wrote this while bored at work and on my iPhone so its not my best

“Come in,” a voice said at the other side of the door. Danny took a deep breath to calm his nerves. It was just his new boss. What's the worst that could happen? He'd get fired and have to find a new job.

Of course, being in Gotham, finding a job that wasn't Wayne Enterprise would be hard, especially one that offered such a sweet deal, like the scholarship and health benefits he would receive. So, no, Danny couldn't screw this up.

Danny didn't know why the CEO wanted to meet the scholarship recipients/ new employees one-on-one, but who was he to question it? After all, rich people were weird.

Danny took one last deep breath and swallowed his nerves. Everything would be fine.

He entered and came face-to-face with Tim Drake, CEO of WE.

They stared at each other for all of five seconds before Mr. Drake jumped over his desk.

Danny gave an embarrassing shriek as he fell to the ground hard. Ow, that hurt! To be fair, though, what else was he supposed to do when tackled by someone who could be his twin? Or a clone.

Well, maybe biting him hadn't been a good idea.

Danny heard a hiss above him as he bit down harder. There was no way in the Infinite Realms he would let go anytime soon. If this was a clone sent to kill him, Danny had to protect himself. Then he could worry about deprogramming him.

The look-alike tried to shake off Danny, causing him to bite down even harder.

And things had just started calming down, too.

His parents had kicked him out after they found out he was Phantom. He had been homeless on his eighteenth birthday, but honestly, being homeless and not vivisected was better than what he thought was going to happen.

Thankfully, the trio and Jazz had made a plan in case Danny had to run away from his parents. Sam had opened a bank account for Danny with a little over twenty thousand dollars. He was lucky he didn't have to use the fake IDs Tucker had set up. His parents had let him take his papers.

Which was how he found out he was adopted.

Danny had talked to the air in the little motel room he had ended up that night, begging for help from Clockwork. Danny didn't know if Clockwork had pitied him, but the Ancient had appeared. Clockwork had given Danny a vague clue about family in Gotham—Oh, the guy he was wrestling was probably the family he was hinted at.

Dammit, Clockwork, couldn't he have warned Danny?

Danny let go of Tim Drake.

Who was Drake to him? A sibling, a twin?

Danny didn't know yet.

Tim Drake was about to attack again when Danny put his hands up in surrender.

“Wait, wait!”

The other teenager stopped. Tim was breathing hard from the little impromptu fight they had been in.

Danny was glad that his half-dead status made it hard for him to have to catch his breath. It was impossible to run out of breath when one didn't have to breathe technically.

“Who are you,” the other boy asked.

“Fenton! Danny Fenton. I’m the new hire?”

Danny hated that the last sentence came out as a question.

“You bit me!”

“And you tackled me! Now that we have that out of the way, you're not a clone, are you,” Danny asked warily. After all, that wasn't out of the realm of possibilities for him.

“What? No! I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Why would a rich CEO be afraid of cloning,” Danny asked.

“Why would a small-town guy from the middle of nowhere America be afraid of cloning,” Tim fired back.

“Touche,” Danny said.

Neither of them said anything. They stared at each other until Danny broke the awkward silence.

“So, what now?”

“Now we take a DNA test and try to figure out what the hell is going on.”

“Ahh, I'm adopted and was told by mystical means that I have family in Gotham and was going to find them ‘when the time was right.’ I'm guessing now is that time.”

“That explains nothing,” Tim said in a hysteric voice. “What do you mean mystic means, and could you be more vague?”

Danny shrugged again, “Welcome to my world.”

A few hours later, through rich guys' means, Danny Fenton and Tim Drake had a piece of paper confirming they were twins.

Well, Danny’s afterlife just got interesting.

Later, Tim is going to feel pissed that Damian respects Danny but still treats Tim like crap.

They both try to hide their heroic tendencies from each other and fail miserably. Jason bonds with Danny over dying and death jokes. Danny also has to fight off Bruce with a broom. No, he doesn't want to get adopted again.

Sam and Tucker are laughing at Danny’s predicament and Jazz gives Tim the equivalent of a shovel talk not to hurt her baby brother or else.

DPXDC Prompt #131

Danny started his new job at Wayne industries today and he was a little nervous about messing up. His adopted family the Fentons kicked him out after finding out he was Phantom. Danny was a little disappointed but it was better than how he thought they’d react. He knew he had other family and from what little cryptic Clockwork told him they lived in Gotham.

He gets to his new bosses office and knocks on his door. When he’s told to come in Danny does so but then comes face to face by what he can only assume is his twin and the CEO of the company, Tim Drake. Danny had about 5 seconds before he found himself pinned to the floor.

[lassofthemoon]

I don't know why the writers are hinting towards Nandor having romantic interest in The Guide but honestly, I'm not too worried.

May I remind you that Nandor has a pattern of romanticizing people and briefly settling in toxic relationships when he is lonely and depressed.

He liked Meg simply because she gave him good customer service.

He adored Gail who strung him along for decades and tossed him aside like he was nothing as soon as she was turned.

He joined a cult and slept with Jan who was manipulating and brainwashing him when he was most vulnerable and emotionally unstable.

He selected Marwa to marry because she was the wife that least threatened his ego and then wished her to have zero free will, changed her personality and transformed her into an entirely new person.

He became obsessed with Freddie simply because he was Guillermo's boyfriend and since he was miserable in his own relationship, he sabotaged Guillermo's relationship.

My point is Nandor's coping mechanism for his eternal loneliness and losing Guillermo is seeking out shallow relationships. We only have 5 episodes left and the writers must be planting seeds for a reason. I just can't imagine the writers being this careless and pairing Nandor with The Guide last minute. Keep in mind, the writers were green lit for seasons 5 and 6 at the same time. If they were really going to scrap Nandermo and push Nandor and The Guide, then it would have made more sense to plant seeds of a budding relationship between the two at the beginning of season 5. So why now?

As much as I like The Guide and Kristen Schaal, her character has always been a plot device. In my opinion, her entire story arch in season 5 was for the writers to have a reason as to why Nandor would be in a cage when Guillermo confesses to betraying him. Nandor needed to be restrained somehow in that moment to prevent him from killing Guillermo right then and there.

My prediction is that if Nandor makes a move on The Guide then she will be the one to call him out for only showing interest in her because he's lonely. I'd like to think that The Guide has enough self-respect to not reciprocate (I admit that I haven't watched 6x06 yet) since he was so aloof and rude to her all last season and barely had any memorable or meaningful interactions with her in earlier seasons. Maybe if Nandor is called out, he'll realize the error of his ways and admit that what he truly wants is Guillermo.

[inkedinshadows]

Under the Summer Sun

Pairing: Azriel x Summer Court!reader

Summary: Azriel's mate takes him on a little vacation in the Summer Court, where she introduces him to a shocking tradition of her home court.

Warnings: none

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: I have one thing to say about this one, and it's that I had no idea where I was going when I started writing. I had a general idea, and that was it. Everything else came to me thanks to little sleep, lot of coffee, too many classes, and missing summer. This fic is really silly and I have no idea how it became this long tbh

@azrielappreciationweek

Azriel had been to the Summer Court many times, but never on vacation. He had gone on missions, of course, and to check in with his informants stationed there. Then there was that one time with his family, which had resulted in a wrecked building and Cassian's consequent ban. The last time he'd been here, it was to defend Adriata against Hybern.

And now, he was here with you. Somehow, you had managed to convince him to take a whole week off. Maybe it had something to do with you batting your long lashes at him, knowing he could never say no when you looked so cute. Or perhaps it was because you had already talked to Rhys, who had agreed that his brother needed some time to relax.

Either way, Azriel was glad you had convinced him. You were staying in your family's vacation house in a little town south of Adriata. The first day was spent in bed, cuddling and making love, getting up only to eat—as you had done years ago after accepting the mating bond. On the second day, you showed him the town and the places where you had grown up. But today would be a surprise. You had refused to tell him exactly what you'd be doing, claiming only that it was a common custom in the Summer Court.

“Are you ready, my love?”

Your voice came from behind the bathroom door, and Azriel glanced at his reflection in the mirror one last time. His half-naked self stared back. You had given him a simple piece of clothing to put on, and you’d been very clear about wearing only that.

Azriel was confused.

It looked like underwear, but it was too long, reaching his mid-thigh, and it was a bit looser around his legs. The deep blue fabric was unusual—soft yet a bit thicker than his regular underwear, and elastic. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but he didn’t understand why you wanted him to wear such a thing. It wasn’t alluring or anything like that. At least, he didn’t think it was.

With a sigh, he opened the door. “Sweetheart, I’m not sure—”

His words died on his tongue as his eyes settled on you. Standing in the center of the bedroom, you were wearing a new set of lingerie he had never seen before. The fabric seemed similar to the one he was wearing, but yours was a shade of cerulean blue that complemented your dark skin. It hugged your curves perfectly, tight enough to cover yet revealing in all the right ways.

“So?” you asked with a smile, spinning around so he could see you even better. “What do you think?”

Azriel closed the distance between you in two long strides, and his hands immediately found your exposed waist.

“You're breathtaking, my love,” he murmured, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. He could never get enough of you—your smooth skin, your soft body, your scent. And whenever you surprised him with something like this, his head felt as if it were spinning.

“I'm glad you like it.” You looked down at your body, brushing your fingertips over the hem of your bra. Azriel wanted to kiss the spot where the fabric met your skin. “It's been years since I last got to wear one of these.”

He had to suppress his rising desire to focus on your words. He frowned at the hint of melancholy that laced your tone. “What do you mean? You can wear it whenever you want.” His fingers pressed slightly into your flesh as he leaned down to whisper directly in your ear. “You look ravishing, sweetheart.”

He felt your body react to his words and touch as it always did—relaxing in his hold, leaning imperceptibly closer. But there was a playful smile on your lips when you asked, “What do you think this is, Az?”

Azriel's frown deepened. “New underwear?”

You hummed, amusement glinting in your eyes. But instead of answering, you slipped out of his grasp. “Let me take a good look at you.”

He grew more confused by the second. You studied him, eyes focused on what looked more like short pants than boxers. Yet there was no hint of desire on your face. Your gaze didn't roam over his body with that intensity that made heat bloom in his lower stomach. You didn't bite your bottom lip, didn't reach out to touch the bare muscles of his chest, and your breath didn't catch as it always did when you wanted him.

“You look so handsome,” you said eventually. Your gaze finally met his, and your amused smile widened at his confusion. “We can go now.”

Azriel blinked, but you were already heading for the door, grabbing a bag from the floor on your way out.

He immediately trailed after you, following you downstairs. His shadows swarmed around him, flying over to tangle in the ends of your hair as if trying to coax an answer out of you. But even they couldn't read minds, and you didn't offer an explanation.

“Go where?” he questioned, watching you put your slippers on. What did you even need shoes for?

“The beach,” you answered, as if it were obvious.

Azriel just stared at you. He was waiting for a punchline or a joke, because surely you couldn't be serious. But when you arched a brow, that smirk still playing on your lips, he realized you weren't joking.

“What do you mean?” he asked then.

“This is not underwear, Az,” you finally explained in an amused tone. “They're swimsuits. Mine's called a bikini, and yours are swim trunks.” You lifted the bag in your hand as if to prove your point. “I have beach towels. We're going to the beach.”

He gaped at you. “You really mean to tell me you want to go outside wearing…” He glanced down at himself, then at you. “Just this?” he finished.

“That's exactly what I'm telling you.” You shrugged, as if the thought of walking around with just a scrap of clothing didn't bother you at all.

“There's no way you're going out dressed like that,” he said firmly. “You're basically naked.”

“I'm not naked!” You sounded outraged, but he could see you were trying not to laugh. “I'm wearing a bikini.”

Azriel crossed his arms. He had never once told you what you could or couldn't wear, and he didn't want to start now. But a revealing dress or a plunging neckline were different from… this. The thought of everyone seeing you with nothing more than two small pieces of fabric made his jaw clench.

“How is it any different from going out wearing underwear?” he pressed.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again, falling silent for a moment. “I don't know,” you mumbled. “It's just socially acceptable here to go to the beach like this.”

He thought he was getting through to you, that he just needed to push a bit more and then you'd see how inappropriate it was. Instead, you stood straighter again and adjusted the bag on your shoulder.

“Come on, Az,” you said, your voice low and inviting. “It'll be fun. I've done this a thousand times already. I promise you, it's totally normal here.”

Azriel knew what you were doing. You thought that if you used that tone, if you batted your lashes and looked at him with your big doe eyes, he would cave. Normally, he would. He could hardly say no to you. But he couldn't stand the thought of someone else seeing his mate clad only in underwear. Bikini. Whatever it was called.

“Y/N, that's not the point. I—”

Before he could finish, your lips curled into a mischievous smirk, and you suddenly turned and bolted out the front door before he could catch you.

Cursing under his breath, Azriel quickly slipped on his shoes and followed you outside, not caring about his own underdressed state.

You hadn't gone far, not with those slippers that made running nearly impossible. He caught up to you just as you turned the corner, his hand grabbing your arm, his shadows swirling around both of you to hide your indecent state.

You stopped in your tracks and pointed to the beach just at the end of the short street. “Look,” you said simply.

Azriel did, and his eyes widened at what was probably one of the most shocking sights he'd ever seen.

There weren't many people, but you were right. Everyone—males and females, High Fae or lesser faeries, even the few children—was wearing the so-called swimsuits. And no one paid anyone else a second glance. Everyone minded their own business, either lying on towels or swimming. Some of the children were playing in the sand.

His shadows dimmed under the sunlight, halting their swirling around your bodies and disappearing completely soon after.

“Is it really that normal here?” he asked, a hint of surprise still in his voice. His gaze slowly returned to you.

“This is the Summer Court, Az,” you replied with a chuckle. “What kind of people would we be if we didn't enjoy our sea in this heat?” You took his hand, giving it a gentle tug to make him follow as you began walking again. “Come on. You're a big Illyrian. Don't tell me you're shy.”

Despite his lingering shock, Azriel couldn't help the smile spreading across his face. “It's not that.”

He had never had a problem with nakedness. He'd seen plenty over the centuries, enough not to be bothered by it. It was the idea of willingly wearing nothing more than underwear—and he wouldn't let you convince him that it was anything other than that—and going out in public. More specifically, it was the idea of his beautiful mate going out in public like that. It was a sight usually reserved just for him, and he didn't want to share it with anyone.

“Fine.” You playfully rolled your eyes. “If someone looks at me the wrong way, you can bash his teeth out. Is that better?”

He knew you were joking, but the fact that you were aware of his concern and the way you dismissed it so lightheartedly actually helped him relax.

“It is, yes,” he confirmed, only half-joking. He wouldn't actually do it unless it was an extreme situation, and he knew you could hold your own without his help, but still. He couldn't suppress the protective—and possessive, if he was being honest—streak that was only emphasized by your bond.

“See, this is why I didn't tell you what we'd be doing today,” you teased. You had reached the beach now, and you led him to an empty spot away from the others before letting go of his hand. “Because you wouldn't have agreed.”

Azriel couldn't deny that you were right. It would have taken a lot of convincing and persuasion to get him to agree to this.

Or maybe just your smile.

You took off your slippers and buried your bare feet in the white sand, wiggling your toes through the grains. You breathed in the scent of sea and salt in the air, your eyes closed. And the soft, fond smile that graced your lips as you reconnected with your homeland court made him fall in love with you all over again. It was a smile he’d do anything to see, and Azriel made a mental note to bring you to the Summer Court more often.

He followed your lead and slipped off his shoes. The sand was warm under his soles, and the morning sun heated his tanned skin. He even spread his wings a little, basking in the sensation.

“So, what do we do now?” he asked after a moment.

Your eyes opened, and you crouched down to open the bag you’d dropped on the ground. “Now we set the towels down,” you answered, pulling one out and handing it to him. “It’s probably too small for you, but I don’t have a beach towel for overgrown bats, so…”

Azriel shook his head, used to your endless teasing. You chuckled softly, and after you both placed your towels on the sand—his was, indeed, too small—you took his hand again, walking backward toward the shore and pulling him along.

“Now we go swimming,” you declared, then paused, a small frown creasing your brow. “You do know how to swim, right?”

It was Azriel’s turn to chuckle. “Of course I can swim, sweetheart. I just don’t remember the last time I had to.”

“Well, then,” you said with a smile, rising on your toes to kiss him, “let’s go make some memories.”

Without waiting for a response, you ran into the ocean with a delighted squeal and dove in, water splashing around you. Azriel didn’t move immediately, and simply watched as you emerged, eyes bright and smile wide.

You were the picture of joy.

The last time he had seen you this happy was probably at your mating ceremony, when you had appeared in that stunning teal and gold dress, looking like a vision. And now, as you stood in the water, Azriel was suddenly grateful you had brought him here. Droplets trickled down your body, your brown skin glistening in the sunlight as you moved your wet hair out of your face.

You beckoned him with a hand, and his feet moved of their own accord, guiding him toward you. He inhaled sharply as the cold water reached his thighs, sloshing around his wings. He didn't know how you could look so at ease when he was shivering, but you were in your element after all, while he was completely out of his.

“Aw,” you cooed as he reached you. “Is my little bat cold?”

Azriel grimaced, his tone playful as he pulled you closer. “First you call me an overgrown bat, and now I’m a little one?”

Your wet body pressed against his still-dry chest, and your hair dripped water onto his tattooed skin as you looked up at him. “Well, yes,” you confirmed, stating it as if it were an obvious fact. “Illyrians are overgrown bats, but you’re my little bat.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know I’m a head taller than you, right? I’m not little.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but then you closed it without saying a word. Azriel could see the wheels turning in your head as you stepped away from him, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

“What is it?” he asked, knowing that expression all too well. “What did you just think?”

“There's this thing my father always did when I was a child,” you explained. “I loved it, and now I want you to do it too.”

After all the crazy ideas you'd hit him with over the years—this beach day being the latest—Azriel wasn't sure he wanted to know what you were talking about now, but he still lifted a brow. “And said thing is…?”

Your smile widened. “Throw me in the water.”

Azriel frowned. He must have heard that wrong. “What?”

But you nodded enthusiastically, grabbing his hands and placing them on your hips. “Pick me up and throw me in the water. You're strong enough to do it, c'mon.”

His fingers tightened on your hips, but he still wasn't convinced. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you love me and I asked nicely?” you tried, batting your lashes at him.

Azriel chuckled. “I do love you, but you did not ask nicely.” He pulled you closer, his fingers brushing the hem of your panties. Gods, it still felt like underwear to him, and all he wanted was to take them off. “You ordered me to do it.”

You laughed with him. “Sorry about that.” Pulling him down, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Love of my life, my mate, my everything, will you please be so kind as to use your beautiful, strong muscles to pick me up and throw me in the water? It's fun, and I’d really appreciate it.”

He knew you were teasing, but his heartbeat quickened with every word of flattery, even after all these years. “You are unbelievable,” he mumbled, stealing another kiss.

Though he still didn't understand how it could be fun, and wasn’t sure if he even liked the idea, his hands slid up to your waist. He lifted you effortlessly, water cascading off your body as he hoisted you out of the ocean. He hesitated for a moment, but when he saw your excited smile, he threw you back into the water, expecting you to twist midair and gracefully dive in. You had the agility and flexibility for it. He knew you could do it.

But you didn’t.

You let yourself plummet straight into the ocean, your laughter swallowed by the water as you plunged in, splashing it all around. The water was so clear he could see you sink for a moment before you kicked your legs and emerged, grinning from ear to ear.

Azriel stopped questioning whether it was fun or not. It didn't matter if it was childish and silly. After all, he still had snowball fights with his brothers.

All that mattered was the joy written on your face, and as he made his way over to you, he found himself wishing he had a place like this—somewhere he cherished returning to, a place filled with memories of a happy childhood.

“You probably think I'm crazy,” you said as you treaded water. He could still touch the seabed here, but it was now too deep for you.

“A little,” he admitted with a smile. “But as long as it makes you happy, love.”

You looped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer as his hands found their way back to your hips. Pressing your body against his, you rubbed the tip of your nose against his. “There’s something else that would make me happy right now,” you murmured, gazing into his eyes.

Azriel’s smile widened as he leaned in for a kiss, but before he knew it, you had pulled him under the surface. He had adjusted to the water’s temperature by now, but the sudden, full submersion still made him shiver. His first instinct was to break the surface and take a deep breath—something he would have done already if only you had told him what you were planning. Before he could, though, you used your magic to create a bubble of oxygen around the two of you, allowing him to breathe.

“So drowning your mate is what makes you happy?” he asked skeptically.

“Sorry about that,” you chuckled, eyes glinting with mischief. “But the surprise on your face was priceless.”

Azriel lifted a brow, readjusting his wings. It had been so long since the last time he was underwater that it took a moment to remember how to position them properly, preventing himself from floating back up.

You laughed, your hair swirling around you like a shimmering, silver crown inside the bubble.

“No, but it was fun,” you answered. You cupped his face, kicking your feet to swim just a little closer to him. “What would really make me happy is something I’ve always wanted to do, but I need to let the bubble disappear. I promise I’ll summon it again as soon as we’re done.”

Azriel frowned slightly, but he had an idea of what you wanted to do. He could only hope he was right, because he had a feeling you wouldn’t explain it if he asked.

He nodded, and with that, you called back your magic. Water rushed around you again, but this time he inhaled deeply before it was too late. And then you proved his suspicions correct.

You pulled him in for a kiss, and he tasted the salty water on your lips. His hands settled gently on the sides of your neck, keeping you close. As you both kicked your legs to stay submerged, Azriel understood why you wanted to do this. It felt intimate, like you were the only two beings in the entire ocean.

It reminded him of the way kissing you felt when he was flying with you cradled in his arms—the world faded away, shrinking until nothing existed but the two of you.

It lasted only a few seconds, but when you parted, both of you were smiling. As promised, you summoned another bubble as soon as your lips left his.

“That was nice,” he murmured, his voice soft.

“Good, because we’ll definitely do it again.” You stole another quick kiss before pointing toward the endless expanse of the ocean. “I want to go swimming. Do you want to come or would you rather head back to the beach?”

Azriel shook his head. “No, I want to come with you.”

“Perfect.” Your smile widened, and you gestured for him to follow as you turned around. “Then I want to show you the reef.”

He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he tucked his wings in tightly, kicking his legs to keep up with you. Never in his long life had he imagined that he’d one day find himself swimming in the Summer Court, wearing little more than a piece of underwear. But life with you was always full of surprises, and he had no doubt this wouldn’t be the last.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

You almost missed the meeting regarding the new exhibit. You had to validate a few showpieces. Books mostly this time. On one of them... what was it... runes... Red cover with rubies, one could think it was painted with blood itself.

Your own reflection in the stones was teasing you. This object was powerful, it was alluring, it was dangerous. You didn't notice how others left.

You were left with the book in the storage. Who created it and why? You were not new to artifacts of presumed witchcraft. But this... it was different. As if the blood on the cover was instantly flowing changing the shades.

Oh, it was one of those days. Time didn't matter.

"Fascinating, isn't it?"

"Oh yes, it is." You didn't even look up. "Have never seen anything like this."

"Oh, I did. A very long time ago. This book belonged to ruthless people."

"What?"

She was a foreigner in this brightly lit room. Nonchalantly sitting in one of those uncomfortable chairs. When did she come in?

"We need to close the storage. All your colleagues left a few hours ago."

Hours? Really? What was she even talking about? You checked your phone. A few missed calls and messages.

Brunette was smiling at your confusion.

"Have we met before?"

"No, I'm instead of Jeff."

"What happened? I saw him yesterday."

"Oh..." Brunette was kinda lost for an instant. "He had to leave. You know. Another department. My name's Rio".

She stood up and very officially offered you her hand.

"Pleased to meet you. My name's..."

"I know everything about you."

Rio was still holding your hand. Maybe you did see her before. Those green eyes. They were mesmerising.

______

A few days passed. You didn't have time to examine the book, but you kept thinking about it. Weirdly your thoughts were coming back to it. In what circumstances something like this could be created? What was written there?

You wanted to feel that book again. Sharp edges and ancient pages.

From the book your mind wandered to the stranger. You asked your colleagues. They knew Jeff was gone, but who was instead of him - no idea. You wanted to see her again. you wanted to lose yourself in those gentle touches again.

___

A few more days. You were giving a lecture. Confident and charming you were in your element. Until you noticed those green eyes amongst the audience. Rio was catching your every move, your every word.

"You were amazing." Brunette caught you after the class. "Truly a master of your craft."

"Well, I do have a certain area of expertise."

"What a tease."

Oh, now you were definitely blushing.

"I haven't seen you at the museum." You tried to find a more safe subject.

"I was busy with other projects. I'm kinda like a consultant for confused people."

You nodded. Why was looking at you like this? As if expecting something, as if waiting for the answer.

"Well, you did find the time for the lecture."

"I found the time for the lecturer."

"I appreciate both the time and the effort."

"Yeah, you have no idea how determined I can be."

Rio winked at you. She was busy, she had to go. She chose to leave you with just a hint of satisfaction.

"Oh, and the book., It is waiting for you."

____

Rio was right. You had to concentrate on your work. Exhibit was approaching, your input was needed. You were spending more and more time with the remains of the old times. You were spending more and more time with that damned book. Those runes were not known to you. As the symbols. Looked like an interpretation of the maiden-mother-crone myth, but there was a green halo around them.

"You need coffee."

That wasn't a question. With Rio nothing was.

"Thanks." You took a sip "Oh, double espresso. How did you know?"

"Had a feeling, you like it... intense."

"Sure."

"So..." Rio nudged your shoulder to get all the attention she always required. "How is this thing going?"

"Good."

"And this?" She pointed at the book.

"Waiting for the answer from a few colleges."

"Well, I'm sure the answer is going to be fascination. But..." She took your phone and bag without asking. "you need to be someplace else."

___

Why did you even let her command? You just blinked and suddenly you were near an old theater.

"Magic show?"

Rio had tickets for the first row.

"What can I say? I was always fond of illusions."

It was noticeable. She was cheering even for the simplest tricks. She adored theatricality and tension. Except for maybe the tricks that involved cheating death. Yeah, Rio huffed in annoyance a few times.

"Well, this is not how I expected my evening to go."

Street was completely silent. You and Rio were the only ones who decided to enjoy the autumn night.

"I can tell you how all the tricks worked."

Oh, for sure Rio knew.

"It's your hobby?"

"Let's say, I've seen these shows quite a few times."

"That would destroy all the magic part of the performance, don't you think?"

Rio stopped, snapped her fingers and in the other hand a flower appeared.

"Oh, you're smooth." You laughed at the present. "So, you're into tricks."

"No, I'm more into magic."

______

It was a book of protective spells. It was supposed to save from evil and wrong, from hungry and desperate. And not protect, it was supposed to hide from the sight of darkness. Someone was supposed to be hidden in the blood of the killed. You spend hours trying to find the recipient of this protection.

"Well, that's an interesting observation." Rio put her legs on the table. You were having a dinner at your office. "Amazing."

"I'm glad you're happy with my research."

"I truly am. Do you know how those spells are supposed to be activated."

"I assume by the blood of the protected."

"Yeah, guess it could work." Rio shrugged. "Witches were never that imaginative."

It became some kind of a routine. At the beginning you didn't see Rio at all. But now she was always near. With lunches, coffees, books and affection. And whatever she was calling magic.

Rarely you could feel comfortable with someone so close. For years you preferred to be on your own. It just never clicked with anyone. But Rio... she knew you. Your tastes, your dreams, your desires. Her affection was a given, just a fact that you stumbled into. It was a weird feeling. Like you were continuing to live something you never had.

____

"I don't think you're doing it right."

You could feel Rio was close. Her hair was almost tickling your neck. There was no need for her to stay right behind you. But it apparently was the best spot to watch you translating the text.

"You're being a little distractive, Rio."

"How? I'm helping. This sign here. It clearly doesn't mean death."

"Well, that's a woman with a skull instead of a face."

"I'd say she's more about the natural order of things.'

"Maybe."

___

You were working more, you were sleeping less. You were distracted. Your dreams changed, in them you could freely read the spells. Voices without purpose were helping you. Sometimes even Rio couldn't have you all for herself.

"I brought you something."

"Huh?"

Rio was holding a dagger. Black stones, same runes.

"Just don't play with it often."

"Where did you get this?"

"It was here all the time. Kinda lost in the mess."

"Yeah."

You didn't care whether she was lying or not. Was it the other part of the story? Was it the threat or help?

You took it. Heavy with cold and sharp with pain it fit your hand properly.

"Every witch was supposed to have such a dagger." Rio took the knife. "Usually it was carved with the symbols of a greater entity, You know for protection."

She was holding your hand, caressing the palm with the cold of a steel. Still dangerous, still deadly. You didn't dare to look at her movements.

"And what entity protected this blade?"

"I think you know. You read the spells."

You could feel your skin almost succumbing to the blade. But it was so much more unbearable to have Rio so close. She was the perfection itself. You didn't care about the blade, you leaned into her.

"Fuck." you muttered under your breath. But it was too late. Your blood was spilled.

You were her prey, Rio pushed and you and the blade cut deeper, but you didn't care. She was kissing you, she was hurting you.

Dagger fell on the floor. Without breaking the kiss Rio guided your hands to the support of the table. Your wound touched the book.

Suddenly the pain shot through your whole body. You wanted to scream, but Rio didn't let you. Holding you, making you feel her passion, brunette was only deepening the kiss.

You opened your eyes. The room was on fire. Games of the primal flame were everywhere. Everything was melting away. Instead another reality was forming.

You groaned into the kiss. It was familiar. It took all the strength you had to push Rio away. She was breathing heavily.

"What the..." you looked at your palm. It was healed. "What... what happened..."

Those voices were right. Rio. It was all because of Rio.

"It was the only way..."

Her voice was trembling. You heard this already. Her plea, her apology.

"I know you." You took the book from the table. Now those spells made sense. "Rio Vidal."

"I thought... " She was choking on her regret and doubt. "I thought I wouldn't be able to find you."

"I remember..."

Rio gently touched your cheek. You didn't feel it. Suddenly there was a wall with the thickness of centuries.

"My love..."

"It was always you, wasn't it?" Your fingers were tingling. "You were always the reason."

"I don't..."

"They died because of you."

"What? No."

You grabbed her wrist. You were strong, stronger than you remembered. Purple magic was pouring from your veins. It didn't let Rio move.

"Because of you all those people were dead. You attacked innocents."

"No."

"My coven tried to hunt you. And in return you destroyed others."

'"No, no, no. These are not your memories. It's an illusion your coven gave you."

You pushed her. Rio was the plague. You remembered it. Your sisters warned you.

"I will banish you from here."

Rio didn't even think about defending herself. She needed to let you be closer.

You grabbed her by the throat. Rio only obeyed. You needed to cut out her black heart.

You waved and the dagger appeared in your hand. You were calling for your weapon. It returned to the magic that created it. But the second you were ready to swing, it burned you.

You were holding the same knife Rio gave you. It wasn't possible. Your enemy was protecting you.

"No. It's not true..."

Yes, you didn't remember. But what if... you were holding a piece of your old life. Rio was in every cell of your body. How long were you like this? How long were you far from her? You were still washed over by hate. But not because of Rio. No, you couldn't hurt her.

"I can help you..."

You shook your head in disbelief and disappeared in purple smoke.

_____

You didn't know where to go. The life you remembered wasn't yours, just as a life you were living for the last who knew how many years.

Your sisters betrayed you, they were not the only ones. Such strong magic required the assistance of the sorcerer supreme.

It doesn't matter what you were thinking about, you always were coming back to Rio. She saved you, she broke the spell. But if she was the one lying. What if she forged the blade? No, no, not possible. Not your Rio. Your Rio? What these weeks meant for you? Were you in love?

Not only your head, your blood was boiling with magic. You forgot this feeling. You were trying to control the shaking in your hands but it was just getting worse.

"Rio." you whispered.

"Yes, my love."

She appeared in front of you. Her crown was glowing in the dark. No point in playing pretend anymore.

"This blade belongs to me."

Rio nodded.

"You're the entity that is protecting me."

Nod again.

"What happened?"

"They wanted to separate us. They were afraid that you would have special treatment. And with that become too powerful for them to handle."

"Special treatment?"

"Yes." Rio hesitated. "You were the only one who could have my... favor."

"I don't understand."

"You could be invincible. I wouldn't let anything happen to you. You were one of the more powerful wielders of magic. And that was a dangerous combination. So they hid you. Sealed you in the book. It took me centuries to find you."

Your heart was aching. If it was true, your life was taken by those whom you considered family.

"And we..." You blinked away a memory. "Did we ever have a garden?"

"Oh, yes." Rio dared to come closer. "I created a pocket dimension for us. Just us. We could do whatever we wanted."

"I also remember that Rio is not your only name."

She was dreading this moment. For her only hope was left. But for you it was finally the beginning. Not the memories, but affection was guiding you. All those memories of Rio's betrayal. You had to trust your heart. Hate wasn't yours, it wasn't real.

 Yes, it was the truth. It was always Rio. The only thing you wanted was for her to be your reason for existence. And it only could be explained with memories that you couldn't fathom.

You were gravitating towards her. It was easier for you to believe in the ghost of ancient love than lose Rio. Your Rio.

"No, it's not."

For the first time Rio wasn't looking you in the eyes. You had to lift her chin. She was barely breathing, she was barely even functioning, waiting for your sentence. Regal entity reduced to a mortal.

"I'm in love with Rio, but Lady Death..." You pulled her into a kiss. This time your powers entwined with the glow being almost unbearable to be around. "...is a part of me."

"I will help you remember. I will help you return everything they've stolen from you."

"Oh yes." You smiled into her skin. "Right after I punish those who separated us."

[softieyuume]

Gentle Touch

✿ Sylus x fem!reader

✿ He got hurt protecting you. You return the favor by tending to his wounds.

✿ slight!angst/comfort. fluff. pre-established relationship.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ──────

The soft touch of your hands on his skin sent a shiver down Sylus's spine, a stark contrast to the searing pain that had been consuming him just moments ago. He watched you through half-lidded eyes, admiring the way your hair fell across your face as you concentrated on your task of tending to his injuries.

*She's always been beautiful.* He mused silently, *But seeing her like this... it's different.*

Gone was the cold hostility that had once defined their interactions, replaced by a gentleness that made Sylus's heart ache in a way he never thought possible. He reached out with his uninjured hand, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"You know," He murmured, his voice low and rough, "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be touching me with such care."

You glanced up at him, your tired yet gentle eyes meeting his amused ones. A faint blush colored your cheeks, but you didn't look away.

"Don't read too much into it," You retorted, but there was no bite to your words. "I'm just doing what needs to be done."

Sylus chuckled, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at his wounds. "Is that so? And here I thought you'd finally realized how much you need me."

He knew he was pushing his luck, but he couldn't help himself. There was something about the way you looked at him now, something that made him want to test the boundaries of this newfound closeness.

You rolled your eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Don't push it, Sylus. You're in no position to be cocky."

"And yet," He drawled, leaning in closer with his hands resting on your sides on the bathroom sink where you sat, "You're still here, aren't you? Tending to my wounds like a dutiful nurse."

You huffed, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you continued your ministrations, your touch lingering just a bit longer than necessary.

Sylus let his eyes drift shut, savoring the moment. He knew it wouldn't last forever, that sooner or later they'd return to their roles as adversaries. But for now, he was content to bask in the warmth of your care, to let himself believe, even if just for a little while, that maybe, just maybe, there could be something more between both of you.

"You're too reckless, Sylus," You frowned in frustration, unable to stop yourself from putting a bit of pressure on his wounded arm. "If you hadn't been so determined to protect me, you wouldn't be in this mess."

Sylus winced as your fingers probed a particularly deep gash, the sting of the disinfectant making his breath hitch. He knew he deserved your scolding, knew that he'd been reckless in the heat of the moment. But hearing your voice laced with frustrated concern, with a hint of something deeper, made his chest tighten in a way he wasn't used to.

"I didn't get hurt because of you," He muttered, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. "I got hurt because I was trying to protect you, kitten."

Your eyes narrowed, your brow furrowing in annoyance. "Protect me? By charging headfirst into an ambush without a plan? That's not protecting me, that's being a damn fool."

Sylus opened his mouth to retort, but the words died on his tongue as your hands stilled on his chest, right near his heart. You were looking at him with an intensity that made his heart race, your eyes searching his red ones as if trying to find the answers to questions you haven't yet asked.

"You can't keep doing this," You whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the fluorescent lights. "You can't keep putting yourself in harm's way for me. I'm not worth it."

Sylus felt a surge of anger at your words, at the self-loathing that seemed to radiate off of you in waves. He reached up, cupping your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Don't say that," He growled, his voice low and fierce. "You're worth everything to me, sweetie. Everything. And if that means taking a few bullets to keep you safe, then so be it."

Your eyes widened, your lips parting in surprise. For a moment, Sylus thought you might push him away, might tell him to go to hell. But instead, you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed as you let out a shaky breath.

"You're an idiot," You mumbled, but there was no heat behind your words.

Sylus smiled, his thumb brushing over the soft skin of your cheek and it took a tremendous amount of willpower to stop himself from taking you right then and there.

He didn't want to risk ruining what chance he could have with you, just having you near him brought him solace he desperately needed.

"Yeah," He agreed, his voice softening, resting his forehead against yours as he left out a shaky exhale. "But I'm your idiot."

And for now, that was enough.

[girlsneedff]

NSFW! Minors and Ageless blogs DNI!

Sukuna x f!Reader, fwbs, best friends, Sukuna's a dick, angst, unrequited love, mentions of sex

Word count: 1k

Author's yap: This is the start of the "NOT Over It" series! Should I have started with Over It first? Possibly. But this is my writing project, and I'm gonna do what I want <3

Fun Girl

And now you’re stuck here feeling shitty. And stupid. All because you decided to fall for your guy best friend. Who you know is a dick. You thought maybe, just maybe, that you would have the chance to get with him- to be in a real relationship with him besides the friends-with-benefits relationship that you have while he’s in between girlfriends, and you’re not distracting yourself with flings and short relationships. You thought that because he’s kept you around, you were different. News flash to you: you’re not. And now you’re wishing that you’d never even asked him about that possibility. 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The two of you were sitting in his car, coming back from the movies. He wanted to see some random action movie, and you would follow him to the ends of the Earth, so of course you went with him. You’re sitting in the parking lot of the movie theater in comfortable silence, both of you just scrolling through your phones, not really ready to return home yet. 

“You know the girl that I was talking to?”

Oh great. You rolled your eyes, shifting to rest your head on the closed window as you responded, while you continued to scroll through your phone. Trying hard to not show him how much hearing about his prospects bothered you.

“Which one?”

“I’m ghosting her. She’s hot, but talking to her is boring. I’d rather shit in my hands and clap.”

“Ryo you’re a dick.”

“A 10-inch one.”

“It’s smaller than that.”

He hits your leg in response. You shrug, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. His body is facing you, his arm resting on the steering wheel. 

“What?”

“You think I'll end up alone?"

Your heart jumps a bit, taking this opportunity to subtly hint at something. Who knows, maybe it would work?

You scoff. “Well at this point, the only girl you’re gonna end up with is me.” You say, trying to sound absent-minded. Sukuna doesn’t even let that sentence, that possibility, hang in the air for a moment before he shoots it down.

“You know there’s no way in hell that’s happening, right?”

You could practically hear your heart cracking, feeling it crumpling in on itself. 

“Jesus, I was just saying.” You say quickly, trying to collect all of the shards of your heart before the hole is too big. Maybe you can glue it back together. He’s harsh- you know this. Don’t let it get to you.

“I’m not saying we’d be in a relationship or anything-”

“Oh yea fuck no. Sorry,” he says, in a way that you just throw the pieces you’ve collected up in the air, damning them all to hell, because you know that whatever he says is going to be devastating as he continues, “but I’d never date you. Ever. You’re not what I’m into.”

You were stunned. Looking back, you don’t know why you were stunned. You know this man. Certified womanizer, number 1 hoe. He’s noncommittal, selfish, rude, arrogant, abrasive. You knew this. So why were you so shocked?

“Oh, so I’m cool to sleep with, but not for a relationship?” You can feel your throat closing up, but you refuse to let him see you get emotional over this.

“We… have fun.”

“Fun?”

“You can’t tell me that you don’t have fun when we fuck.” He looks straight out the windshield, this conversation unconcerning to him.

You guys fuck?

It’s such a harsh way to put it. You hoped he would be softer about it- maybe salvage your feelings. You’re his best friend, for fuck’s sake. His kisses would be so tender as he slowly pushed into you, like he was taking care to not split you apart. The slow fucking and reassurance, the words of encouragement. Though it never lasted long before he’s thrusting into you like he hates you (which now, you’re wondering- does he?), you thought that those first moments were the most important. That they were his true feelings. Dumbass.

“I’m not your type, but you fuck me. How does that make sense?” You finally turn to look at him, your anger and tears combating each other to see which one holds out the longest. Your anger is winning, thankfully.

“Please don’t tell me you’re getting in your feelings about this.” He’s fucking smiling. Rolling his eyes, as if you’re getting worked up over something simple. Because to him it is simple. Sex is simple to him. He gets his rocks off fucking the shit out of anything that moves, and then he moves on.

“I don’t want to know about all of the guys that my girl’s been with. It’s emasculating.” 

“Oh, so you can slut around, but there’s an issue with me having a past?”

“No, there’s not. Because I’m not into you, so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re such a fucking-”

Immediately you hop out of his car. You quickly start to walk to the sidewalk near the theater, keeping your eyes glued to your phone as you scroll to book yourself an Uber home quickly. Your vision is blurring, but you don’t stop looking at your phone, not giving a damn if cars are rolling through the lot. You may be an emotional wreck, but you won’t allow any man, no matter how in love with him you are, to tell you that he’s using you to your face. You can hear him call out to you- you can picture him leaning on the top of his car with that stupid grin, calling your name as if he doesn’t understand why you would be upset.

You’re that undesirable? But Ryomen Sukuna sees no issue with his past sexual escapades. His charm, and his ability to sweet talk any woman is attractive. 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

And that leads you to where you are now, sitting in the dark of your room, sniffling and deleting everything in your Photo’s hidden folder.

[pandapetals]

The Wolverine

You tell Logan about the myth of the Wolverine.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

a/n: Im sad that logan doesn't remember kayla. She deserved better, well both of them did. So i wrote this for her. I did some googling and found in Innu culture they see the wolverine in a few different ways so i took that and ran with it.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

You were curled up in the oversized armchair on the balcony, wrapped in a soft blanket, gazing out over the garden bathed in silvery moonlight. The stars sparkled overhead, scattered across the sky like tiny, far-off promises, casting a gentle glow over everything. Logan sat beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders, thumb tracing slow, absent-minded circles along your upper arm.

After a comfortable stretch of silence, you let out a quiet sigh, eyes still fixed on the stars. "Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, you know? Studying literature. Maybe I should’ve gone into astronomy instead." You paused, a small smile playing on your lips. "Stars are just so beautiful. There’s so much out there."

Logan chuckled, a low, warm sound that rumbled through his chest. "Oh yeah? So you could spend your days talkin’ about constellations and meteors? Think I’d go crazy, darlin’."

You nudged him playfully. "Oh, because listening to you ramble about ancient battles and military strategies is so riveting."

He smirked, tilting his head down to look at you. "Hey, at least I know how to make it interesting."

You rolled your eyes, leaning into him a little more. "Sure, you do, tough guy." After a moment, you tilted your head back to the sky, the light of the stars casting a soft glow in your eyes. "But, really... I've always wondered. Why Wolverine? I get the whole 'fierce and growly' thing, but it’s oddly specific."

Logan gave you a look, a playful warning in his gaze. "Watch it, sweetheart," he drawled, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked back out over the garden. "Truth is… I’m not sure where it came from. Can’t remember. Might’ve been ‘cause I was a… well, an animal. Felt like one back then, anyway."

You reached over, resting a gentle hand on his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You're not an animal, Logan," you said softly, your voice filled with quiet conviction. "You never were."

He let out a faint sigh as if he didn’t fully believe you, though he appreciated the sentiment. "Maybe not," he murmured, his gaze drifting back to the stars. "But it sure felt like it sometimes."

A peaceful silence settled between you, and you leaned your head against his shoulder, watching the stars glitter above. "Did you know," you said softly after a moment, "that in one Innu legend, the wolverine was actually a creator of the world?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, looking down at you with a skeptical smirk. "Now you’re makin’ stuff up."

You laughed, nudging him again. "I swear! It’s true. According to the story, the wolverine built a boat to save the animals from a great flood. Then he told a mink to dive into the water and gather mud, and he used it to create an island. That island eventually became the whole world."

Logan shook his head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "You always gotta turn everything into a story, don’t you?"

You grinned, looking up at him with a twinkle in your eye. "I can’t help it. It’s what I do." You paused, then added, "There’s another story that says the Wolverine tried to steal light from the midnight sky. He fashioned bits of it into the sun, moon, and stars, creating the northern lights. Kind of fitting, don’t you think? A wolverine bringing light to the world."

Logan looked at you, amusement and something deeper flickering in his eyes. "You got quite the imagination, you know that?"

"Comes with the job," you teased, snuggling closer, resting your head on his chest. "But honestly… you bring light to people too, Logan. Even if you don’t see it. You’re gruff, sure, but there’s a big heart under all that scowling."

He huffed, though his chest rumbled with a laugh as his fingers absentmindedly traced circles along your shoulder. "You’re really layin’ it on thick tonight, aren’t ya?"

"Just stating the facts," you replied, looking up at him with a grin. "You’re kind of like the stars. Tough on the outside, but warm and steady when people need you most."

Logan’s gaze softened, and he reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek as he looked down at you. "If that’s how you see me… guess I can’t argue."

You smirked, snuggling back into his chest. "See? Not so bad being the wolverine, is it?"

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Guess not," he murmured, his voice low and comforting. "Not if it means sittin’ here with you under these stars."

You looked up at him, eyes twinkling with playful warmth as you took in the way the moonlight softened his rough edges. "Who would’ve thought?" you whispered with a teasing lilt. "That the Wolverine could be more than just a trickster… that he could be gentle, even thoughtful."

Logan let out a low, skeptical chuckle, giving you a look that was both amused and exasperated. "Oh, is that so?" he rumbled, his voice a soft, low vibration beneath your cheek. "Here I thought I was just some ornery old fighter."

You chuckled, reaching up to trace a finger along his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble. "You’re definitely more than that. There’s a lot more to you than the tough-guy act. There’s… heart, kindness." You paused, smirking as you added, "Though the ‘ornery old fighter’ part is pretty accurate."

He let out a mock sigh, though his eyes glimmered with affection. "Don’t push it," he muttered, pulling you closer as he looked down at you, the corners of his mouth twitching in a reluctant smile.

You shifted slightly, resting your chin on his chest so you could look up at him. "You know, in some stories, the wolverine’s not just a trickster. He’s a protector. Fierce, unyielding. The one who keeps everyone safe, no matter what."

Logan’s eyes softened, and he reached up, brushing his thumb along your cheek as he gazed down at you. "So you see me as some kinda myth, huh?" he murmured, his voice low, almost vulnerable. "Better be careful, sweetheart. I’m just a man, remember?"

You smiled, covering his hand with yours. "Oh, I know," you whispered, your voice tender. "But you’re my myth, Logan. My hero. The one who showed me what real strength looks like."

For a moment, he looked taken aback, his usual composure slipping as he took in your words. Then, his gaze dropped, as if the weight of your affection was almost too much to bear. "You say all that… but sometimes I still feel like a lost soul," he murmured, his voice rough. "Someone who didn’t know where he belonged."

You cupped his face, guiding his eyes back to yours. "You belong right here," you whispered, your thumb tracing his cheek. "With me. Right where you’re supposed to be."

A soft, genuine smile played on his lips as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. "Damn, darlin’," he muttered, his voice barely more than a rumble. "You’re gonna make me go soft."

You laughed, brushing a gentle kiss against his lips. "Too late for that," you teased, smiling against his mouth. "I think I’ve already uncovered the soft side of the Wolverine."

He rolled his eyes, but his hand found yours, his rough fingers intertwining with yours as he brought your hand to his lips. He pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles, his gaze warm and unguarded. "You really make people question my reputation, you know that?" he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, am I ruining your whole 'grumpy lone wolf' image?" you teased, grinning up at him.

Logan pretended to be annoyed, though his eyes sparkled with affection. "Damn right, you are," he replied, his voice a low murmur. "Can’t go anywhere without folks thinkin’ I’m a softy now."

You leaned in, your face close to his, your smile teasing. "Well, maybe you are.”

He let out a low chuckle, pulling you even closer, his arm secure around you. "You’re lucky you’re cute," he muttered, his thumb brushing over your hand. "Otherwise, I might actually be annoyed."

You looked up at him, your heart full, and whispered, "I think you’re cute too, even if you try to hide it."

He groaned, tipping his head back. "There goes my whole reputation," he said, but when he looked back down at you, his gaze was filled with warmth, something so genuine that it made your heart skip a beat.

You squeezed his hand, giving him a playful smile. "Good.” You grinned, closing the small distance between you and kissing him, slow and sweet, letting the world fall away. When you finally pulled back, he was looking at you with a smile so genuine it made your heart skip.

"Happy?" he asked, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand.

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder as you both gazed out at the stars. "Always, with you."

[ufojones]

mecha pilot jazz in the chest (not the head) is also the funniest options for other reasons! imagine the cross-cultural confusion. Like say Jazz meets Optimus and the gang and OP gives some big speech and is like "what matters most is what's in here" while patting his chest, and all the Bots are like "wow that's so deep, it's what's in the spark that matters" and meanwhile Jazz is just nodding along like "yeah, the pilot, duh!" Or Jazz deciding to hop out of his mecha to stretch his legs, so his chest pops open in front of Prowl who *gay panics* because why is this guy baring his spark in front of him, he didn't think their relationship was that serious yet!!! --but then instead a...smaller version of Jazz crawls out of his own chest (because I'm assuming the spacesuit doesn't look super organic at first glance) and then Prowl is like....uhh was this guy pregnant? how do babby happen?? is Jazz secretly a cassette host???? and honestly Jazz getting mistaken for being a cassette of his mecha would be a totally hilarious and believable outcome. I mean, personality wise he overlaps with Blaster pretty well, so the Bots are like 'oh no wonder the weird new guy likes music so much, he's a tape deck! that must be why he's Like That, too, all the cassette carriers are a bit weird.' Though Bots think it's odd that the mini mech also goes by 'Jazz' and meanwhile Jazz is confused why they all keep calling him 'Jazz Junior' when he's kicking it offline? (Meanwhile Ultra Magnus is squinting very suspiciously at the entire situation, because assuming you go with the IDW flavor, that Jazz-within-a-Jazz set-up looks awfully like his own secret load-bearer situation with his inner Minimus Ambus. So Magnus is trying to subtly figure out if Jazz is the same as him. But meanwhile Jazz is confused about this weird Magnus dude who keeps dropping all these hints and comes to the conclusion that Magnus is trying to tell him that he's *also* a human piloting a mecha?? Assuming he's figured out by then that the rest of the Bots aren't piloted. So they both think they share a secret, but it's two different secrets lmao.) Or maybe then Jazz takes off his spacesuit and is suddenly revealed to be organic and now instead all the Bots are panicking that their new buddy has some sort of parasite lmao. like if a transformer chest opens and an organic crawls out, their first thought wouldn't be 'pilot' it would be 'tapeworm', let's be real. Or if you want to get darker with it--maybe they *do* think 'pilot', but in the same way they would think it if a quintesson crawled out of a mech. As in, Jazz the mech was enslaved. And suddenly all these giant robots are trying to eradicate Jazz the human to protect their friend Jazz the mecha, who has seemingly been left unresponsive by this unidentified new organic enslavement threat. (Because a *new* organic species suddenly turning up that appears to be successfully enslaving mechs would be terrifying. Like it's probably a huge trope in their horror movies, right up there with sparkeaters.) Luckily for Jazz, his new buddy Prowl is a pretty intelligent guy, maybe he's smart enough to put the pieces together before his weirdo maybe-boyfriend's organic core gets squished? Also, if you go with the 'organic parasite horror trope' implications, that means when Prowl and Jazz are together after whatever reveal, Prowl is literally living out their version of the supernatural romance genre. He's the normal guy dating the scary creature from horror stories! Prowl is the Bella Swan in this AU, is what I'm trying to get at, lmao.

Question, is jazz controlling his mech from the chest or is he like, located in the head? Chest would make sense I think if you compare it to gundam and such but head is sorta like a brain replacement? Plus there is the huge visor he could potentially look through?

I think it needs to be chest because. Hear me out

Normal reason - the thickest armor - the best possible protection for pilot

My honest reason - JUST IMAGINE how freaky it would be for Prowl to see Jazz get FUCKING DECAPITATED and keep fighting after it. Just imagine

[redrose10]

Can you do an enemies to lovers with #18 Let’s play a game… with Yoongi please. 🙏😊

This is kind of like a lovers to enemies to lovers thing. I hope that’s okay! It’s also longer than I intended…

< Sprinkles >

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cheating, tiny hint of homophobia, Divorce, Smut (oral, unprotected sex, breast play…)

Enemies to lovers

#18 “Let’s play a game…First one to make a noise looses.”

*******************************************************

Yoongi: I swear Y/N if she’s not ready when I get there…

You: Omg Yoongi it was one time and she had an accident right before you got here. Let it go already…

You sighed as you tossed your phone aside. He was on his way to pick up your daughter for the week and apparently was set on never letting you forget the one time he got stuck in rush hour traffic on his way home because your daughter wasn’t ready as soon as he got there.

Things hadnt always been this bad between the two of you. At one point you were a loving happy couple and that only increased when your daughter, Hana, was born. Yoongi was the most the incredible husband and father and you couldn’t imagine your life any other way.

But a few months after she was born things started to fall apart.

Hana suffered from acid reflux so she was up most of the night crying. You and Yoongi took turns tending to her but by the time you would finally fall back asleep she’d wake up again and it was your turn to get up. Yoongi was working overtime trying to support all of you so that you could stay at home with the baby as long as possible so 99% of the household responsibilities also fell on your shoulders. You had reached a level of exhaustion you didn’t know was possible which led to the two of you not having much alone time together and any time you did spend in each other presence usually involved an argument of some sort.

They started as common arguments between couples like housework, bills, and making time for each other.

But over time the arguments turned into petty little things…Yoongi blinked too much, you used too many periods when texting, he didn’t like the way you said the word rainbow, he wore his green sweater too much.

The final straw was the argument on this birthday. You had put together a surprise party which he never showed up for. Instead he texted you that his boss wanted to take him out to dinner and he was really working hard towards a promotion so he didn’t want to say no. He promised to spend the entire weekend with you and Hana to make up for it.

You were beyond upset, but you understood he was just trying to better your lives so you did your best to cool down. It wasn’t until later that evening after everyone had left and Hana was asleep that you finally broke. Yoongi’s boss, Mr. Kim who you were friends with on social media, had posted a photo congratulating Yoongi on his new promotion. At first you were ecstatic. He had worked so hard for this and maybe now he could remove some of the stress and have more time at home. But then you saw it…or her.

Park Duri. She was technically Mr. Kim’s assistant but for some reason was always involved in Yoongi’s schedule. He talked about her a lot. You’d met her a few times and she seemed nice but you always got an uncomfortable feeling whenever you were around her and Yoongi together.

It infuriated you but mostly just hurt you that she spent your husbands birthday with him and also witnessed him get his promotion all while you sat at home eating cold left overs alone.

What brought you to tears though was seeing his arm wrapped so tightly around her shoulders while she leaned into him. He had the biggest gummy smile. He looked so happy. A happy you hadn’t seen in him since the day Hana was born. He certainly never looked that happy around you any more.

That night he stumbled into the bedroom after having one too many drinks in celebration, passing out on the bed without saying a word to you. That night you made up your mind. The next morning you called a lawyer and filed for divorce.

Things were bitter between the two of you ever since. The only positive was Yoongi was still a very present and loving father which is all you could ask of him. You just wished the two of you could be in a room together for more than a few minutes without blowing up at each other.

“She ready?”, he questioned as soon as you opened the door.

“Well hello to you too.”

“Hello my dearest soon to be ex wife. How are things down in hell where you come from?”, he spat clenching his jaw.

“You know what Yoongi why don’t you go fuc-“You had to stop your comment as you heard your daughter come running to the entrance way.

“Daddy!”, she shouted as she jumped into his arms.

“I missed you so much Hana Banana.”, he said giving her cheek a kiss.

“Tell your mother goodbye.”, he mumbled already half way down the hallway. You gave your daughter a hug and told her to behave before handing her the pink overnight bag she had and watched as she skipped down the hall with her hand tightly gripped onto Yoongi’s.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were nervous like extremely very incredibly nervous. You and Yoongi had to meet with your lawyers today to try and hammer out the last few details of your divorce. If you could get this done then you just had to go back in a week to sign everything and the divorce would be final.

“No absolutely not.”, Yoongi said making your eyes roll.

“Why not Yoongi? You get custody of Hana 50% of the time. I’m not asking for any money other than requesting we split all bills for Hana 50/50. I already have my own apartment and so do you. We have separate cars and separate bank accounts. What else could you possibly want?”, you shouted getting very irritated. Every single time you guys had tried to come to a conclusion in the divorce Yoongi found a way to drag it on just to spite you.

“I want something in here about us not letting Hana meet our future partners without the other parent meeting them first.”, he said pointing at the contract.

“What!! Absolutely not? You’re not MY father and have no say in who I date.”

“No but I am Hana’s father and I deserve to know about the men that you’re bringing around her. I shouldn’t have to find out from our five year old how you’ve been bringing some guy named Jimin, who’s apparently very handsome, around the apartment. I mean come on Y/N…we’re not even officially divorced. I never took you for that type.”

“And what.type.is.that?”, you hissed.

“The type to go around fucking other men before they are even officially divorced from their husbands.”

“EXCUSE me!! First off Jimin is Hana’s ballet teacher who’s been coming over to give her private lessons. She has a little crush on him. Maybe you’d know that if you actually talked to her and asked her questions about her life. Secondly, you have a lot of nerve accusing me like that. If I was sleeping with Jimin, which I’m not, at least I waited until we were separated.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”, he asked hurt and offended because he already knew what you were getting at.

“Oh cut the bullshit Yoongi. I know you were cheating on me with Duri and who knows who else. That’s why you always came home late smelling like another women’s perfume. That’s why we stopped being intimate. That’s why you stopped telling me you loved me. Isn’t it Yoongi?“

You were so angry by this point you couldnt see straight but it felt good to get that off your chest until you could feel tears forming. You hated crying in front of others, especially Yoongi.

Your lawyer Jin cleared his throat before giving wide eyes to Yoongi’s lawyer Namjoon. “Umm maybe we should continue this next week.”, Namjoon whispered somewhat afraid to get in between you two.

“Yes good idea.”, Jin said packing up his brief case. You stood up as well slinging your purse over your shoulder.

“Y/N wait”, Yoongi said but you stopped him, “No go fuck yourself Yoongi. I’m done.”

“Right back at you.”, he scoffed as you slammed the door behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tae, he knows he’s supposed to run it by me first if someone else is going to be picking up Hana other than him.”, you said feeling bad for the irritation in your voice. It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault at all. He put his hands up in defense, “I know I know. He said it was urgent and he would explain it to you later.”

You wanted to say no but Hana had already seen him at the door and was currently dancing around the house shouting party at Uncle Taes’s and you did trust him completely so you gave in and let him take her with a mental note to scold Yoongi later.

While you missed Hana dearly during these times you did appreciate having some alone time so you were sat on the couch in your comfy pjs with a glass of your favorite wine as you got caught up on a drama you had been sucked into.

The doorbell rang forcing you to get up and answer it and you really wished you hadn’t.

“Yoongi? Hana is with Tae.”, you said feeling a slight increase in panic.

He nodded, “I know.”

“Oh my god are they okay? Did something happen?”

He chuckled, “They’re fine.” He even showed you a photo he received of Hana giving Taehyung a full beauty makeover. You felt relief at seeing her okay and happy.

“Okay then why are you here?”, you questioned.

He held up a bag from your favorite bakery a few streets away, “I want to talk. No lawyers…no shouting…no arguing. We just need to talk like civil adults.”

You shook your head, “I don’t know Yoongi. That sounds like a bad idea. At least the lawyers could call the police when we kill each other.”

He chuckled at that, “Please Y/N.” For the first time in a long time you saw something in his eyes other than anger so you agreed and let him in.

After a few cookies and a few episodes of your drama you turned to him, “Alright, what do you want to talk about?”

“Well…first I want to apologize for what I said during the meeting with the lawyers the other day. I guess I was just kind of hurt and maybe a little jealous because I thought you had already moved on with someone else. But after thinking about it…I have no place to feel like that so you can do whatever you want with whoever you want. I just think we should agree to not introduce anyone to Hana for a while.”

“I agree…but I’m not interested in dating anyone right now. But if you…if you want to then I don’t care.”, you quickly added though he shook his head, “I’m good. I want to focus on work and Hana for a while.”

You nodded in agreement.

“I uh I also want you to know that I never cheated on you. I swear on Hana. I’ve never even thought about it.”, he said while pulling on his earlobe, a nervous habit of his.

“You came home smelling like perfume, many times Yoongi.”

“I know…I know but there’s an explanation for that which isn’t me cheating.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh I can’t wait to hear this one.” You could tell he wanted to say something back but bit his tongue making you feel a little guilty.

“Y/N, do you remember on our first anniversary I gave you those flowers.”, you nodded, “Well I didn’t pay for them…actually I never paid for any of them.”

“You thief! Seriously Yoongi you were risking going to prison over flowers?”

“Will you shut up and give me the chance to explain?”, he barked. You huffed but leaned back into the couch.

“I had severely under estimated how expensive flowers had become. Thanks to all of our bills and our furnace breaking the week before I couldn’t afford to buy them. I started crying in the shop because I felt like the worst husband ever. The elderly woman who owned the place asked what was wrong and after some convincing I told her. She told me how her husband used to bring her flowers every week and it gave her something to look forward to no matter how tough of a time they were going through. So she gave me a small bouquet to give to you. I reminded her that I couldn’t pay but she said she only wanted a hug. So the next week after I got paid at work I went back to get you more flowers and pay her back for the first bunch but she wouldn’t accept my payment. She only wanted a hug. She did that every time that I went in there and that’s why I came home smelling like perfume. I never cheated with her…I mean… she did grab my butt once but I wouldn’t really count that.”

You chuckled at the mental picture before remembering, “And Duri?”

“Duri wouldn’t have wanted me even if I did want to cheat on you with her. She was a…she was not into men so you would’ve had a better chance than I did. She just liked me because I was one of the few people in the office that didn’t judge her.” This new information caused you to feel so many different emotions some good some bad.

“Y/N I never cheated on you. I’m sorry that I made you doubt that.“

“Okay yeah thanks for clearing that up. I’m uh I’m sorry for not asking sooner.”

“I’m also sorry that I stopped initiating anything intimate. It wasn’t you at all. I was just always so tired and stressed and then if I did want to do something you just seemed so angry and distant with me or Hana was acting up and I didn’t want to push you into any thing. But most of all I’m sorry that I stopped telling you how much I love you Y/N. There’s no excuse for that and I regret it more than anything.”

His words replayed in your mind over and over, “Yoongi did you mean you loved me?”

He shook his head, “I love you Y/N. I always have and I always will. That’s why I’ve been trying to drag on this divorce. I’ve been selfish because I didn’t want to let you go…but Monday…Monday we can call the lawyers and I’ll sign the papers. I won’t make you suffer any more.”

“I…I love you too Yoongi.,” you stiffled unsure of when you even started crying.

Quickly he pulled you into a hug, “Hey hey it’s okay. Don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry.”

“What do we do Yoongi?”

“Well…we can continue with the divorce if you want or we can try again. Go slow. Maybe see a couples counselor. I think having this talk really helped us so I think talking to a professional would be a good thing. But it’s up to you. I want to save this…I want to save us but I won’t force you.”

“Yeah I think…I think we should try to work on things.”, you nodded. He smiled and you smiled both breathing a sigh of relief.

Then Yoongi fidgeted with his fingers as he looked around the room that had suddenly become more awkward., “Well uh I guess I should get going. I need to save Taehyung from his baby sitting duties.”

“Oooorrr maybe you could stick around a little longer. I think Taes having the time of his life.”, you chuckled before flipping your phone over show him the text of a photo of Tae on the couch and Hana cuddled up next to him as he gushed about how wonderful she is.

He smiled at the cute photo before agreeing to stay since he really didn’t want to leave anyways.

Maybe it was the bottle of wine that you two had during the movie or the months and months without being touched or just being exhausted physically and emotionally that was causing your brain to go haywire but suddenly you could sense every little movement from Yoongi.

The way his chest moved up and down as he took slow breaths. The way he sat kind of slouched with his legs spread out. The way his fingers kept inching closer and closer to the bare skin of your thighs. It all sent a fury of emotions through you as you could feel your arousal building, almost making you feel silly for being so weak for him.

But you two had barely agreed to work on things less than a few hours ago so you tried your best to ignore the desires within you.

You knew that Yoongi was having similar feelings as you when his fingers continued to move slowly up the side of your thigh until his large hand was firmly situated on the top of your leg, his fingers began gently toying with the bottom of your shorts as if he was testing the waters to see if you were going to stop him. When you didn’t, he got a little more brave slightly pulling on your bottoms but then he suddenly pulled back.

“Y/N…I…We can stop if you’re not into this. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that...It’s just been so long.”

“I know it has been. Maybe…Maybe I want this too.”

He scooted closer until you could feel his warm breath hitting your cheek.

“Y/N, maybe isn’t enough for me. I need a yes or a no.”, his voice deeper than usual.

You thought for a moment. You thought about the positives and negatives. He started to move away taking it as a no when you stopped him. Quickly you lifted yourself up and straddle his lap before kissing him, “Yes I want you. I want you Yoongi. I want you so bad.”

That was all he needed to send his lips searching for yours. His hands grasped the end of your shirt and began pulling it up, you shimmied to help make it easier for him.

In one swift movement you were left completely bare in front of him thanks to having forgone a bra earlier in your search for optimal comfort.

He sat staring at you making you flush red.

“Fuck I’ve missed these.”, he smiled squeezing your breasts. “Yoongi don’t make it weird.”, you chuckled yet doing absolutely nothing to stop him especially once his mouth connected to your left nipple and he began gently biting down, something he knew you loved.

The more you moaned the more it egged him on to bite and squeeze and suck and leave marks all over your naked breasts. You started to grind down on him using his growing erection to provide some friction to your wet core. The sensation making you both throw your heads back.

“Want to make you feel good.”, you mumbled against his neck leaving kisses as you went.

“You’re already making me feel good Sprinkles.”

On your first date you got really excited to find out the cafe had sugar cookies covered in sprinkles. Yoongi thought it was the cutest thing ever and had in turn started calling you Sprinkles.

Your heart jumped at the use of your nickname that you hadn’t heard him say in so very long.

It wasn’t until you felt his hips buck up into you that you were brought back to reality, “No I want to make you feel really good.”, you whispered already on your knees while your fingers quickly worked on his belt and zipper. As you finally freed him you were reminded about just how big he was.

You saw him smirk as you stared somewhat in shock, “What don’t think that pretty mouth of yours can take me any more?”

You didn’t say anything. You wanted to bite back but instead you dove in. Your tongue licking a strip on the underside. You went right into a rapid pace, sucking, licking, paying close attention to the head just like he liked.

You took pleasure in watching him come undone above you. His cheeks tinted red, his legs spread far apart giving you ample room, you gripped onto his thighs as his head rolled back on the couch. He ran his hands through his hair getting lost in the feeling and savoring the sensations of your mouth taking him fully.

Suddenly his hand came and fisted a chunk of your hair, “Y/N, Stop…you gotta sto-“

You couldn’t get your mouth off in time before he started convulsing and a warm salty liquid coated the back of your tongue.

While it definitely was a confidence booster to know you could have that kind of an effect on him it was still funny to you and you couldn’t stop giggling, especially when you saw how embarrassed he looked.

“Shut up. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anything but my hand.”, he grumbled.

“No no it’s okay Yoongles.”, you giggled until your giggles turned into a scream as he lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom.

Once you were laid down on the bed he wasted no time in tearing off your shorts and removing his shirt leaving you both completely bare.

“Fuck look how wet you are.”, he sighed as he ran his fingers through your folds.

“Mmmm yes Yoongi.”, you moaned finally feeling a little relief until he abruptly stopped and pulled away.

You whined at the loss of contact earning a low chuckle from him.

“Please don’t tease. I need you so bad.”, you said as your hips began shifting looking for pleasure.

Yoongi being the way that he was decided to only tease you further. This time with the head of his already hardened again cock as he would barely give you the tip just to pull away leaving you needy and empty.

“Fine keep doing that…Maybe I’ll go ahead and call Jimin. I bet he wouldn’t tease me.”, you spat somewhat playfully somewhat loosing your mind.

Without warning Yoongi slammed into you fully sheathing himself. “Oh fuck Yoongi.”, you cried blissfully at the burning stretch.

“Yeah you like that. You think it’s nice to talk about other men while I’m fucking you.”, he growled, “I’ll make you forget he even exists. Fuck Y/N.” He was fucking into you with such a quick forceful pace that your whole body was being pushed up against the bed until you couldn’t go any more.

“Don’t stop. I’m about to cum. Please Yoongi.”, you cried.

“Yeah, then cum for me.”, he said, “let me feel you squeezing my cock like you want it.”

That was all it took until you were pulsing around him squeezing with everything you had as your body reveled in the feeling. A feeling you had long forgotten about.

Once you had come down from your high he wasted no time before he was pounding into you again trying to chase his own release.

“Whoa whoa.”, you said and he instantly pulled out looking at you with a worried expression, “What? Are you hurt?”

“You get to cum twice while I only got once? That doesn’t seem fair.”, you smirked while he looked at you slightly annoyed.

“I mean I think I deserve another one…or are you too out of the game to be able to make your girl cum more than once in a night.”, you playfully quipped.

Yoongi ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek in irritation, “You know you’ve become quite the mouthy one Sprinkles.“

He slowly stroked himself a few times knowing it was going to be difficult for him to hold off his already close orgasm.

“How about we make this a little interesting?”, he said lining himself up with your entrance.

“I’m listening.”, you said half moaning at the sensation.

“Let’s play a game…First one to make a noise looses.”, he said, “Loser has to cook dinner next Friday for date night.”

You head rolled back, “You’re on.”

“And I expect fresh baked brownies with my meal when I win.”, he arrogantly said as he slammed into you again.

He was watching himself disappear inside of you and reappear covered in your juices as a way to try and keep his focus when you decided to play dirty.

You squeezed your walls around his length as tight as you could trying to get a moan or a hiss but he was good. Instead he looked up giving you a look that said two can play that game.

He kept eye contact as he brought two fingers to your swollen clit rubbing figure eights to add extra pleasure as his mouth latched onto your right nipple. You bit down onto his shoulder to stifle the sounds your mouth was begging to make.

The two of you lasted at this for several minutes before you had a realization.

Yoongi was going slow, taking his time, gently thrusting in and out of you, which you knew meant he was close and trying to hold out as long as he could.

And then you decided to make the move that you knew would surely make him come undone and spill a litany of filth from his mouth.

You hooked a leg around him and with all the strength you had you pushed home and flipped over so that he was on his back and you were on top, his dick remaining inside you the whole time. You nearly laughed out loud when you saw the surprised look on his face but you managed to stifle it.

You started bouncing up and down on his cock with a rapid pace. Your were so close to your own orgasm. Your thighs were burning but you could feel his hands eagerly grabbing onto your body trying to stop it. He was so close too.

Carefully you leant forward just enough that you could suck little marks into his skin while still riding his dick. The angle allowing your tits to lightly brush up against his skin with your movements. You gave him a couple extra squeezes for good measure and next thing you knew his hands were on you holding you in place as his own hips bucked up into you, “F-Fuck Y/N. Fuck I’m coming... I’m coming. Baby fuck. I tried. I’m sorry.”

You could feel hot liquid already dripping out of you and making a mess on him as he helped you ride out your own high that quickly followed.

When your breathing had calmed he helped you off of him and quickly got you all cleaned up before laying down next to you on the bed.

“That was uh…I think we needed that.”, he said giving your hand a kiss.

“Yeah it felt good. I think that maybe we lost ourselves in being parents and forgot that we have needs too. Let’s…not do that again this time.” He nodded, “Speaking of which I should probably go relieve Taehyung. I told him I’d only be a few hours at most so he’s probably not happy.”

“Yeah probably. Hey make sure Hana eats something other than takeout this week please��and she has a dance less with Jimin on Wednesday so maybe be nice when you drop her off.”, you said following him to the door.

“Yes to the no takeout and we’ll see but no promises to the Jimin thing.”, he grumbled.

He put on his coat and shoes and gave you a kiss and was just about to walk out the door when you stopped him.

He turned to look and found you smiling hard.

“What?”, he asked confused.

“For dinner next Friday…I expect fresh baked sugar cookies with my meal.”, you giggled as his face fell remembering that he had in fact lost the game.

“Fine…sugar cookies it is…ooorrrr you know we could go best two out of three.”, he said already reaching out for you.

“And don’t skimp on the sprinkles.”, you shouted quickly shutting the door before you could give into his little game.

[fratttymatty]

The "Interview"

(All characters are 18+)

It was a cold Friday night in London, and four friends—Elliot, Jake, Micah, and Julian—stood in line outside one of the most famous music venues in the city. It was a milestone of sorts: they’d saved up for months, gotten their tickets with just enough time before they turned 18, and now they were about to witness their favorite artist, Central Cee, live in concert.

They were all from the U.S., fresh out of high school, and their friendship had grown strong over the years. It wasn’t just their shared love of music that kept them close, but also their shared experiences navigating life as gay teens in America. Each one had their own story, their own struggles and victories, but they found comfort in each other—through late-night talks, inside jokes, and nights spent dancing to the latest rap tracks.

Elliot, the group's de facto leader, was a tall, lanky guy with curly dark brown hair, a hint of stubble on his chin, and a sarcastic sense of humor that had everyone in stitches. Jake, the creative one, had a boyish charm about him with a mop of messy hair and a slightly mischievous grin. Micah was the quiet, introspective one, with a soft smile that always made him seem like he was in on a secret. Julian, the most confident and adventurous, had an athletic build, a razor-sharp jawline, and always seemed to be the one pushing the others to take risks.

Tonight, though, something felt different. Maybe it was the excitement of being in London, or the energy of the crowd around them, but all four felt a growing anticipation buzzing through their veins. As they entered the venue, a man in a black hoodie approached them. He had the swagger of someone who knew exactly who they were.

“You lot," he said, "you’re coming with me.”

Before they could ask questions, the man led them backstage, where they were ushered into a dimly lit room with plush furniture. There, standing with his back turned, was none other than Central Cee himself. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, Elliot felt a strange energy in the room, something that made his pulse race.

“Right,” Central Cee said, turning around with a grin that was both welcoming and knowing. “You lot came here to see me. But before you go back out there, how about a quick chat?”

The boys exchanged puzzled glances. They had no idea what was going on, but curiosity got the better of them. Each one was called up one by one for what seemed like a simple interview, but no one expected the transformation that would follow.

Elliot was the first to be pulled forward. As soon as he stepped up to Central Cee, a strange warmth washed over him. Central’s eyes glinted with something that made Elliot feel exposed, like he could read everything about him in an instant.

“Tell me something about yourself, fam,” Central Cee said casually, his voice smooth but commanding. “What’s your vibe?”

Elliot was taken aback. He wasn’t used to being asked such personal questions, especially not in front of his friends, but something about the moment made him open up.

“I guess… I’m the group’s leader, y’know? Always planning, always keeping us together,” Elliot said, trying to sound confident.

Central Cee smirked. “Sounds like you’ve got control, yeah? You wanna take control of your life in a new way?”

Before Elliot could respond, a rush of heat spread through his body, and suddenly his skin felt tight, as if something was shifting beneath it. His hair—once wild and curly—grew smoother, darker, and slicked back into a tousled fringe that framed his face perfectly. His broad frame shrank slightly, his arms growing more defined, and his posture shifted into something… cooler. He felt a tug at his accent—his American drawl fading into a crisp London twang. His clothes adjusted too, becoming baggier, more streetwear-oriented. A hoodie and a pair of well-worn tracksuit bottoms replaced his previous outfit.

The transformation was shocking, but what was even more surprising was how right it felt. He no longer cared about his past life as an American teenager; everything about him now screamed British roadman, and he loved it.

“Oi, you proper now, bruv,” Central Cee said with a nod of approval.

Elliot didn’t even recognize the name he'd had before—Elliot felt so far away. He was Rhys now.

Jake was up next. He had been watching Elliot closely, but before he could ask him what had happened, Central Cee locked eyes with him.

“Your turn, fam. What makes you tick?”

Jake wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable, but somehow, with Central Cee’s sharp gaze on him, all of his walls crumbled.

“I… I guess I just like to push boundaries. Take risks,” Jake said, almost unsure of his own words. “I’m always looking for something new.”

Central Cee raised an eyebrow. “New, huh? How about we make you new, yeah?”

Jake didn’t even have time to process the words before another wave of heat swept through his body. His hair grew out, settling into a perfect, messy fringe. His slim, artistic frame bulged with muscle, and his clothes morphed into the streetwear of a London roadman. A gold chain appeared around his neck, and his voice shifted from his American accent to a street-smart British one.

He felt a sense of ease settle into his chest. His friends were still standing there, but it was as if a part of him had clicked into place. He was no longer that shy, creative guy from America. He was something else now—someone who walked the streets with confidence, ready to take on whatever came his way.

Central Cee nodded approvingly. “That’s it. You look proper now, bruv. Name’s Connor now, yeah?”

Jake felt a grin tug at his lips. He was Connor now. No going back.

Micah was nervous, but he didn’t show it. He had always been the quietest, the most introspective, and he wasn’t sure what to make of all of this. When Central Cee called his name, Micah stepped forward slowly.

“Alright, what about you, bruv?” Central Cee asked, his voice softer but still commanding. “What’s your story?”

“I’m… I’m always thinking,” Micah said, his voice unsure. “I overanalyze everything. I never really feel like I belong.”

Central Cee grinned knowingly. “Well, maybe you need to belong to something, yeah?”

Micah blinked, and then, just like the others, the heat surged through his body. His hair fell into a perfect, tousled fringe, his body became leaner and more athletic, and his eyes darkened with a new intensity. His accent shifted smoothly from American to a sharp London tone. His clothes became the uniform of someone who belonged in the streets: a puffer jacket, ripped black jeans, and trainers that had seen some miles.

As the transformation completed, Micah felt an unfamiliar confidence rise in him. He no longer felt out of place—he was home. He looked down at his clothes, his new identity settling around him like a second skin.

“You fit in, bruv. You were always meant to be one of us,” Central Cee said, grinning.

He was no longer Micah. He was Liam now, and it felt right.

Finally, it was Julian’s turn. He walked forward, a little slower than the rest, already knowing what was about to happen.

“You look ready,” Central Cee said with a raised eyebrow. “What’s your vibe?”

Julian shrugged, exuding that confidence that had always been his trademark. “I’m the one who always takes things head-on. I don’t overthink. I just do it.”

Central Cee’s grin widened. “Good. You’ll fit right in.”

As the words left Central Cee’s mouth, the final transformation hit Julian. His hair fell into the same tousled fringe, and his athletic build became even more solid. His voice shifted to a crisp, confident British accent. His old American swagger was gone, replaced by the loose, easy movements of someone who lived and breathed the streets of London. The clothes shifted too: a grey tracksuit replaced his previous outfit, and he felt the weight of it like armor.

Julian looked at himself in the mirror, barely recognizing the person staring back. The name Julian felt like an echo from a past life. Now, he was Brayden.

Central Cee slapped him on the back. “That’s the energy we need, fam.”

By the time they all stood together, they were unrecognizable—not just in appearance, but in their very essence. Their American pasts felt distant and irrelevant. They were no longer Elliot, Jake, Micah, and Julian. They were a new crew now, a gang of roadmen. They were Rhys, Connor, Liam, and Brayden. And they had found their place in the world, alongside Central Cee and his crew.

As the night went on, the boys realized that the transformation was complete—not just on the outside, but deep down inside. They had found a new identity, a new family, and a new life.

And they would never go back.

After the transformation, Rhys, Connor, Liam, and Brayden became something entirely different—no longer just American teens trying to find their place in the world, they had now fully embraced their new roadman personas. Their lives, their outlook, and even their identities had shifted, and London had become their new home.

Their American pasts were like faded memories, barely a whisper beneath the streets they now walked. It was all about swagger, respect, and the code of the roads.

But the change wasn’t just about looking the part—it was about living the life. And soon enough, their new relationships started to follow suit.

Rhys was the first to find someone who matched his energy. With his newfound cocky, confident persona, it didn’t take long for him to catch the attention of Jada, a fiery girl with a sharp tongue and a gaze that could pierce through anyone. She wasn’t fazed by Rhys’ swagger or his roadman façade. In fact, she called him out on it immediately.

“Oi, what’s all this ‘I’m the boss’ talk, bruv?” Jada said, smirking as she leaned against the brick wall outside the club. Her dark curls framed her face, and the gold hoops in her ears caught the dim streetlights. “You ain't fooling me. You’re just another lad trying to play the game.”

Rhys couldn’t help but laugh, impressed by her directness. “Nah, I’m solid, Jada. You don’t know me like that.”

Jada raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Alright then. Prove it, fam. Take a walk with me.”

And so, they did. They spent the next few weeks growing closer, with Jada often pulling Rhys out of his comfort zone—making him think about things outside the tough-guy persona he had built. But that was what Rhys needed. He’d never had someone challenge him like that before.

They became inseparable. Jada was just as street-smart as Rhys, and together, they ruled the London streets. They’d walk hand-in-hand through the parks, both in their tracksuits, looking like they owned the place.

“You’re solid, Rhys,” she’d say, the praise always followed by a cheeky grin. “Just don’t get too cocky.”

Rhys grinned back. “Ain’t no such thing as too cocky when you’re with me, babe.”

Connor, the fiery and unpredictable member of the crew, found his match in Sienna, a girl with an even sharper attitude and a style that could’ve been pulled straight from a London streetwear magazine. She had platinum blonde hair, bold eyeliner, and a strut that made heads turn. But beneath that tough exterior, Sienna was sweet, loyal, and down for whatever her crew needed.

When they first met, Connor was quick to try to impress her. He’d never been the type to settle down, but there was something magnetic about Sienna. Maybe it was her ability to look him in the eye and call his bluff or the way she could hang with the boys without breaking a sweat.

“You think you’re all that, don’t you?” Sienna said one night, her eyes narrowing playfully as she crossed her arms. She stood in the doorway of a local warehouse, the music from inside barely audible over the sound of the street.

Connor shrugged, his grin never fading. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve got the look, the vibe. The streets respect me.”

Sienna took a step closer, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “Respect’s earned, fam. You ain’t earned it just by walking around like you own the place.”

Connor raised an eyebrow, impressed by her boldness. “You think you can teach me how it’s done?”

“I’m the only one who knows how it’s done around here,” she shot back.

They spent their days cruising around the streets together, from the markets in Camden to the nightclubs of Shoreditch. For Connor, Sienna was more than just a pretty face—she was a roadman in her own right, teaching him the ropes when he needed it.

Eventually, Connor realized he wasn’t just playing the game—he was in it for real. And Sienna was the partner he never knew he needed.

“You’re mad, Sienna,” he said one night as they chilled on the rooftop of a warehouse, gazing out at the city. “Proper roadman energy.”

“Always, fam,” she replied, looking at him with a grin. “You just gotta keep up.”

Liam was always the quiet one in the group. The introspective type. He’d never really fit in back in the U.S. as the thoughtful guy who was constantly overanalyzing everything. But now? Liam had fully embraced his new persona, and it felt natural. He’d found his own rhythm, and Tasha, a girl with soft curls and an easy smile, seemed to ground him in ways he never expected.

They met at a local pub one night when Liam was deep in conversation with Central Cee. Tasha had overheard Liam talking about the roads, about loyalty, and about the importance of family. It wasn’t long before she joined them.

“Oi, I heard what you said about loyalty,” Tasha said as she slid into the booth next to Liam. “I like that. Loyalty’s everything in this life.”

Liam was taken aback. Most people didn’t get it—not like Tasha did. But she understood. She had the same respect for the streets that he did, the same need to feel connected to something bigger than just himself.

They started spending more time together, and Liam found himself opening up to her in ways he hadn’t with anyone else. She pulled him out of his head, reminding him that sometimes the best way to live was to be present.

“I get you, Liam,” Tasha said one night as they walked through the back streets of East London, hand-in-hand. “You’re all about keeping things real. But you’ve gotta let go sometimes, bruv.”

Liam nodded, smiling softly. “I’m learning. You’re a good one, Tasha.”

Tasha smirked, giving him a playful nudge. “Ain’t no ‘good one’ about me. But you’re alright, Liam.”

Brayden was the most adventurous of the crew, always pushing the boundaries and diving headfirst into any situation. But it was Mia, a girl with bright green eyes and a sharp edge, who caught his attention. She was a force of nature, confident and quick-witted, with an easy laugh and a demeanor that made you believe she could handle anything thrown her way.

Brayden had always been the type to enjoy the thrill of the chase, but Mia? She was the chase. She didn’t take his cocky attitude or his charm seriously.

“What makes you think you can just walk up to me like that?” Mia asked, raising an eyebrow as Brayden tried to work his usual magic on her.

“I’ve got that roadman swag,” Brayden said, leaning in close with a confident grin. “And you? You’ve got that energy I can’t ignore.”

Mia smirked. “Alright, I’ll bite. But don’t think you can impress me that easily, bruv.”

It didn’t take long before Brayden was hooked. Mia challenged him in a way no one else did—pushing him to take risks, to not always play it safe. Together, they were unstoppable.

“Oi, Brayden, you’re all about showing off, but can you handle me?” Mia teased one night as they walked through a local alley, her voice light but full of challenge.

Brayden shrugged, a grin on his face. “You won’t even know what hit you.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “We’ll see, bruv.”

The Crew, Together

As time went on, Rhys, Connor, Liam, and Brayden—along with Jada, Sienna, Tasha, and Mia—became a family. A crew that ran the streets of East London, with their messy fringes and cocky grins, and they moved as one.

The bond between the boys had deepened, and with their girlfriends now a part of their world, their crew was unstoppable. Together, they hit the streets, ran the clubs, and lived the life they’d always dreamed of. They’d found their place, not just as roadmen, but as a unit.

There was no going back. They were part of something bigger now—something that couldn’t be broken. Their names were no longer American. They were Rhys, Connor, Liam, Brayden, and their girls were with them, each one just as fierce and loyal as their men.

Together, they owned London.

[theunholybastard]

Bad Day (Papa Emeritus IV x Gender-Neutral!Reader)

Requested by @ollies-station !!! <3

Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Reader Is Hinted Trans But It's Pretty Vague, Mentions Of Body Dysmorphia/Dysphoria, 2nd Person POV

Copia hovered over you, paints smudged and halfway wiped off. He stopped in the middle of washing his face when he noticed something wasn't right with you. You lay face down in the bed, unmoving, just so done with life.

"Eh... t-tesoro, what's wrong?" Copia asks warily, head tilted like a confused puppy, eyes darting around the room awkwardly. He was never very good at comforting people. But you were the love of his life, how could he not at least try to be of help? He just can't stand to see you like this.

"Everything." You reply hoarsely, muffled by the pillow you were crying into earlier. You were hardly exaggerating, everything seemed to be going wrong and sending you further down a spiral. Not to mention, you've not been very kind to yourself today either. When you first woke up, things immediately felt off. You felt off. Looking into the mirror, you instantly felt dread, like something wasn't quite right with you. Deep rooted insecurities bubbled up to the surface, your body not feeling like your own. You just want the day to be over already, but every passing moment feels like eternity.

"Bad day, huh?" Copia sighs, sitting down on the bed with you, mindful to give you a little bit of space if you needed it. You finally lift your head up, and the sight makes Copias heart ache. Red, puffy face, tear stains down your cheeks, hair tussled and greasy. You hadn't even gotten a chance to shower that morning, notably the first sign today wasn't going to be all that great. You probably looked like a hot mess right now, but to Copia, you were the most beautifully ethereal being he'd ever laid his eyes on, no matter what state you were in.

"Is there anything I can do?" Copia asks concernedly, softly stroking your back with a gloved hand. "Do you want to talk about it? It might make you feel better."

"Maybe... But there's still so much stuff I have to do today-"

"Non importante. Whatever needs to get done today, I will do it for you. You've had enough stress put on you today, now it's time for you to relax. Now, tell your Papa what is wrong, okie dokie?"

You couldn't help yourself, airing out all your grievances to him. You spared no details, every little thing that went wrong and every little worry you had was brought to his attention, and he listened intently to every word. That was the one thing he's always been very good at. Listening. And he was right, it did make you feel a little better, especially with how earnest you could tell he was.

When it was all said and done, he said nothing at first, simply holding you close to his chest, his warmth and sweet smell of cologne quickly lulling you into a sense of security and comfort. You knew you always had a safe space with him.

"Bad days come and go, amore. You must keep in mind that this won't last forever. The good days will come back sooner than you think. And yes, maybe they will fleet sooner than you want them to as well, but the important thing is that they will come again. Look outside, tesoro..." You did as you were told, gazing out the window to see the sun slowly setting over the horizon.

"The day is almost over, you see? And tomorrow is a new day. A better day. Why don't you sit here for a moment and focus on that while I run you a nice relaxing bath, hm? I'll quickly run whatever errands you have left today, and after that I'll order some takeout for the two of us, how's that sound? I'll get you whatever you want."

"And... And can we maybe watch something after? And cuddle?" You sniffle. A comfort show would be great right now. He smiles. "Of course! Anything for my baby." He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, pulling away to get up and do the tasks he promised. You quickly grab the lapels of his jacket, keeping him from leaving you so soon.

"Copia... You know you don't have to do this, right? I'll be fine, really." You murmur, self conscious and worried that you're asking too much of this sweet, perfect man you've somehow managed to claim as yours. He chuckled.

"I know, amore; I want to. I want to make you happy, I want to make things easier for you. Because I love you. Because you deserve that. Capisci?" He says, a gentle firmness in his soft-spoken voice. Hesitantly, you nod. Still, you don't let go of his jacket just yet.

"Could you stay with me for just a little while longer?" You ask, hopeful and bleary eyed. He grins.

"As long as you need, tesoro."

-

[starrywooyo]

DEAREST: PROLOGUE

pairing: ot8! ateez x fem reader

genre: mafia au

!!warnings(per chapter)!! !NONE FOR NOW!

word count: 1.1k

taglist: (lmk if you want removed/added

@scuzmunkie @santineez @yoonshiiu

synopsis: new town, new city, new country again.. will it be permanent this time? the friends you make.. are they honest? relationships? who's telling the truth..? what is the truth.. who should you believe?

notes: eeeeek new series~~ I hope you'll all enjoy this one just as much as you did treasure!! <3 I've not gave anything away in this chapter.. maybe hinted but the first official chapter will be coming soon!! enjoy!! <33

series masterlist | chapter one | main masterlist |

Again..

It's happening again.. Your father got a new line of work so yet again you're moving cities.

Your family is never in one place for too long, you've lived in more countries than you can count. At least this time you're moving to a place you have family in.. seoul. The capital of South korea.. You get to see grandma and grandpa again.. You were just about to start uni here in the states though.. Term in Korea hasn't started yet so your father has enrolled you to start in KQ University.. One of the most prestigious and high end universities in korea..

 You've not been here in the states long so at least you have no friends you need to say goodbye to.. 

 …

Tired, you exit the car when the driver opens the door for you and your mother.. You see the home of your childhood.. Familiarity flooding back to you. It's just outside seoul..the area being popular with mansions and estates yet kept to themselves, Being a mansion the grounds consist of the courtyard.. Garage.. The huge garden in the back and the home being 4 floors tall

“Grandma.. Grandpa!” you call out seeing the elderly couple at the door to welcome you back to the house

“Ah my baby how big you are now.. Come come.. Let's get you settled hmm?”

And you're quickly whisked down familiar halls.. And upstairs on the 3rd floor.

“Here baby you can have this room decorate it however you'd like.. This is your room when you're here and whenever you come to visit.”

You wheel your suitcase in..

“Thank you grandma.. I've missed this.. You and grandpa..”

“We’ve missed you too baby.. “ she tenderly cups your cheek thumb rubbing the chubby skin.. She smiles then makes her way back down the hall.

You look at the room.. It's plain and bare now..no personality yet..  A huge king sized bed rests on one side.. A Huge glass bay window, en-suite, walk in closet, desk, vanity. Just classic bedroom essentials really..

Workers begin bringing your items in boxes from back in the states

Soon the room is filled with boxes letting out a breath you extend your arms cracking your fingers.. 

“Okay~ let's do this..”

…

6:15pm.. 6 hours later you step back and look at the now decorated room.. 

The duvet on the bed is now your printed one along with the pillows and a few of your plushies rest on the bed.. The vanity is now stocked with all your makeup and skincare supplies and accessories, Closet arranged with your clothes, shoes and bags, en-suite your bathroom essensals and haircare products as well as more skincare and just feminine hygiene stuff.. The desk with books and scrapbooking things.. Your guitar rests beside the desk on its stand.. Some posters adorn the wall.. Different bands and places posters..  Your camera and a few jackets hang on some hooks you've attached to the wall. And you've decorated the bay window as a window seat with cushions and a cosy blanket. 

The room is now your own space. Cracking your neck you exit the room and head downstairs.. You can hear your parents and grandparents talking in the lounge room.

“That boy was a lovely boy..”

“Yes.. the Jeongs are very respectful, we've been friends with them for a while.. y/n will attend KQ right? He’ll definitely take care of her..”

“Oh yes, I hope so.. It was lovely to meet him and his grandparents..”

You can kind of hear muffled through the door.. You slide it open.

“What's this about?” you ask..

“Oh honey come.. Sit  dinner is being prepared.. And nothing you need to worry about just the Jeongs came over to briefly visit your grandparents and greet us.. You'll be attending the same university as their grandson..”

“Oh.. does he live in one of the estates nearby?” you sit.

“Oh no.. Yunho lives in an estate with his friends, they're all such lovely boys. They all go to the university.. Always so proper.. Not drinking or taking drugs.. On the right side of the law.. Not like some of the boys that go to KQ..goodness the things some of those boys get up to.. The Girls too.. Their parents would be ashamed..”

… 

Soon the first day of uni rolls around, you get up in the morning and do your skincare and makeup routine, do your hair and then get your outfit sorted.. It's autumn so you go with jeans, converse and a sweater/jumper of some sort, still stylish and you get your bag.

You eat a quick and light breakfast and a driver drives you to the university dropping you off on the campus.. All the uni societies are out at their little tables trying to get new members.. You pass them for now and enter the main building heading to the front desk to get your class schedule..in the hall your gaze catches a group of boys looking at you..watching. They then talk and laugh amongst themselves.. You frown and focus on the receptionist who passes you your schedule and the directions to the first lecture hall on your sheet but then she stops.. 

“Ah hold on dear.. MR. JEONG! Could you come over here please..?” the receptionist calls.. 

The group quietly laughs at him and shoves him forwards.. He looks to the floor and kinda scratches the back of his neck.

“Yes, miss?” he says..

“Can you show Miss Lee around campus and to her first lecture hall? You can do that right?”

He sighs..

“Sure thing Miss.” he gestures for me to follow him.

“Can I see your schedule?” you pass him the piece of paper.. 

He's a handsome man that's for sure.. And damn he's tall..wow.. Bet he's popular with the girls.. He screams boyfriend material-

“Hmm.. homeroom first.. you're in luck im in the same one. You’re Mr and Mrs lee's granddaughter right?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah.. Ahaha that's me.” you snap out of it

He holds out his hand.

“Jeong Yunho. My grandparents and family are friends of yours.”

Oooh so he's the Jeong's grandson..

You take his hand.. 

“It’s Nice to meet you..” 

“Likewise.. You have a free class after homeroom so I'll give you a tour after, let's get you to the hall first huh?”  

He leads you through the campus to the building where the homeroom lecture hall was.  And the both of you enter the hall.. Its still pretty much empty apart from a few students and.. Some of the boys from earlier.. 

“Hey yun!! Whos your pretty friend~”

Yunho sighs.

“That's just wooyoung. He's my cousin, just ignore him. He’ll smooth talk anything on two legs regardless..”

“Hey!!”

Oh.. this is gonna be a long year…

[mingi-s-dimples]

His love, a masterpiece in his eyes - Yeosang

KINKTOBER DAY 20, REQ. BY anon

~"Ateez Yeosang x Reader who self doubts. Please add squirting/ toys/ Yeosang using deepvoice/"

pairing: bf!yeosang x gf fem!reader

genre: 18+, soft smut

summary: You've been feeling insecure about... kinda everything, lately, and your sweet boyfriend decides to please you and show you just how much he loves you.

wc: 3.7k

warnings: mentions of body checking, mention of insecurities (remember to love yourself as you are ♡), use of toys, (vibrator), fingering, p in v, lots lots of praising, mirror sex duh, there's a slight slight the slightest hint of dom in yeosang *a speck*, i absolutely don't know what else I could add, unprotected (boo wrap up irl!), completely consensual, for sure forgot something, unedited might edit later.

Author's Note: Heyy guysss so this one is a little bit sad in the first part, the introductory part. Tho I absolutely love their dinamic ngl and he is def the person to praise tf out of you and for your pleasure. Enjoy ml! 💖 This fic is on the softer side btw.

Whoever feels down for whatever reason or insecurity that is bother you, please remember that you are your own person and everyone is left with oneself in the end. Cherish your body and mind to the fullest 🤍

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member.

It was a quiet afternoon. The soft hum of the wind blew through the slightly cracked window, carrying with it the crisp scent of fall. You sat cross-legged on the bed, your laptop open in front of you, textbooks scattered around, along with a haphazard assortment of notes, highlighters, and pens. You had been working on a particularly difficult assignment for hours now, the once-clear instructions now feeling like an incoherent jumble. The small ticking of the wall clock added to the already growing pressure in her chest.

The semester had been grueling so far—between lectures, exams, and papers, You barely had time to breathe. Today was supposed to be productive. Though, you could feel the beginnings of a familiar anxiety creeping up on you.

At first, it was just a small voice, a whisper of uncertainty.

"Maybe I’m not cut out for this."

You brushed it aside, trying to focus on the work. But the longer you stared at the assignments, the louder the voice grew, until it drowned out everything else. The once methodical clicking of your fingers on the keyboard slowed and eventually stopped. Shoulders slumped, and you let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back against the headboard.

“Why am I even trying?” you muttered to yourself. “I’ll never get it right.”

Your gaze shifted to the chaotic spread of materials around. There was a strange irony in the way the bed had started out as an organized workspace, but now it seemed to mirror your internal state: disarrayed, overwhelmed, and falling apart.

The spiral of thoughts that followed was inevitable. First, it was about your academic abilities. Maybe you weren’t smart enough for university, maybe you weren't disciplined enough, maybe you were just a fraud pretending to belong here. Then, like a wave crashing over, it expanded beyond school.

It wasn’t just your mind that wasn’t enough—it was your body too.

You stood from your bed, walking over to the mirror that hung on the back of the door. You hadn’t planned on looking at yourself. In fact, you avoided doing so on most days. But today, you couldn’t help it. You stared at the reflection, a lump forming in your throat as you scanned yourself from head to toe.

"Why can’t I just be… better?"

Your hands lightly grazed the stomach, then the thighs. The criticism in your mind was merciless. Every flaw seemed to be magnified in the mirror—every imperfection suddenly glaring and unforgiving. You weren’t just failing at school, you were failing at everything. Your body wasn’t the way you wanted it to be. You weren’t as put-together as everyone else seemed to be.

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back, shaking your head as if it could stop the flow of self-doubt. Though, it didn't last long until you started sobbing, thinking what could've been better. What could you do to make things better?

Hours passed, though you couldn’t tell how much time had gone by. The day outside had shifted into evening, and the room was now bathed in the dim, golden glow of the sunset.

Just then, the familiar sound of keys jingling in the door echoed through the apartment. Yeosang was home from his classes. He had his late university lectures today, and he often stayed behind for extra work. Normally, you loved hearing him come home. He brought with him a calming presence that made you feel at ease, but right now, you weren’t sure how you’d explain the tears or the chaos that built up.

The door creaked open, and Yeosang’s voice, soft and warm, filled the apartment. “Y/N, I’m home!”

There was no response from you. You tried to wipe away the tears quickly, though the red and puffy eyes betrayed you.

“Y/N?” Yeosang stepped into the room, his gaze immediately landing on you. Concern etched across his face as he took in the sight of your tear-stained cheeks and the disheveled mess surrounding. He walked over to you quickly, his eyes full of worry. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

But Yeosang wasn’t one to be fooled by half-hearted reassurances. He knelt down in front of you, gently taking your hands into his. “You don’t have to hide from me,” he said softly. “I can see you’re not fine.”

You sighed shakily, the lump in your throat returning as you tried to explain. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this. School. Life. Everything feels like it’s falling apart. I don’t feel good enough.” voice cracked as you spoke, and the tears you had tried to hold back threatened to spill over again. “I feel like I’m failing. And… and I don’t even feel good in my own skin.”

Yeosang’s heart broke at your words. He reached up, gently cupping your tear-streaked face. His thumb brushed away the lingering wetness under your eyes. “Y/N, you are more than enough. You’re smart, you’re capable, and you’re doing so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

You looked at him, eyes searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was his genuine concern and affection. “I just don’t feel it. I don’t feel… enough.”

Yeosang moved beside you on the bed, wrapping his arms around, pulling you close to your head resting against his chest. “You are everything to me,” he whispered. “Do you know how amazing you are? You work so hard. You always push yourself, even when you’re feeling like this. That takes so much strength.”

His words were soft, comforting. Slowly, the tension in your body began to ease as you listened to him. “And as for not feeling good in your own skin… I think you’re perfect. Every part of you is beautiful to me.”

You lifted your head slightly, teary eyes meeting his. “You really think that?”

Yeosang replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You are beautiful, inside and out. And I love every bit of you.”

Your heart warmed at his words, the self-doubt that had consumed you earlier now fading into the background. You sniffled softly, hand resting on his chest as you looked at him.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice barely above a breath.

Yeosang smiled gently, leaning down to kiss you softly. It was a tender, lingering kiss, filled with affection and reassurance. There was no rush, no need for words. His lips on yours conveyed everything he felt for you, and you kissed him back, feeling the love and warmth in every gentle movement.

When the two of you finally pulled apart, foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling, Yeosang’s voice was barely a whisper as he spoke.

“You’re enough, Y/N. You always will be.”

Yeosang’s hand remained at the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer, his touch grounding and tender. His eyes, dark with care, held yours as he leaned in again, his lips meeting yours with a warmth that felt like home. Every kiss seemed to melt away the doubts and insecurities you had just confessed, his steady presence calming the storm within.

"Do you know how much I admire you?" he whispered, his voice soft yet filled with conviction. "The way you keep going, the way you face everything—even when it feels impossible. You're more than you know."

His words sank deep, wrapping around your heart. You felt him take your hand and press it to his chest, right over the steady beat of his heart. "I need you to feel how real this is," he said, his thumb tracing small circles over your hand. "How much I love every part of you—inside and out."

With every touch, he seemed to be silently telling you, showing you how precious you were in his eyes. He moved his hand to the small of your back, pulling you close, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt seen, cherished, and beautiful in his gaze.

“Trust me,” he whispered, a soft smile playing on his lips. "There's no one else I want, no one else I need... just you.”

Yeosang's hands moved to your shoulders, his touch gentle yet full of purpose. His fingers grazed your collarbone, tracing a slow, reverent path as though he were memorizing every inch of you. His eyes roamed over your face, filled with a quiet awe that made your heart race.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, his voice like a soft caress. His hands slid down your arms, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soothing strokes. “Every part of you… I want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of your jaw, his lips lingering as though he never wanted to let go. His fingers trailed down, resting on the curve of your waist, pulling you close. His kisses moved down to your shoulder, each one slow, deliberate, a whispered promise of his devotion.

As his fingers found the hem of your shirt, he paused, looking into your eyes for permission, his gaze soft and respectful. When you gave a slight nod, he gently lifted the fabric, his eyes never leaving yours as he revealed each inch of your skin. He took his time, as though he wanted to savor every moment, his hands gliding up your sides, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his hands moving slowly, reverently. His lips followed the path of his hands, pressing tender kisses along your shoulder and down your arm, his every touch filled with a quiet reverence. "Every inch of you is beautiful to me."

Yeosang’s hands continued to trace your skin as he whispered to you, his voice a soft and reverent murmur.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said, stepping back slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. He watched you with quiet admiration, his own breaths coming a little faster as he took in every part of you, clearly moved by the beauty he saw in you. With a gentle smile, he began to undress, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall away before his hands moved to his jeans. You noticed the hint of his own desire, a warm flush on his face. His now hard cock straining against the zipper of his jeans, a little wet spot forming right where the tip was, dripping with pre cum.

Your eyes met his, and you couldn’t help but smile, your voice soft but filled with longing. “I want you, Yeosang. I want to feel all of you,” you murmured, letting your words linger between you both.

He nodded, his gaze tender yet full of a deep affection as he finished undressing. As he moved back toward you, he paused for a moment, as if taking in the moment itself, letting himself fully appreciate the trust and connection you were sharing. With a gentle, steady hand, he guided himself over you, his body fitting perfectly against yours as he leaned down, his forehead resting against yours.

Then, with one slow, purposeful motion, he closed the distance between you, grounding you both in a quiet, shared rhythm. His hands travelled on your thighs, his eyes full of admiration, and as he was feeling you up, he never stopped whispering those soft reassurances, each word a reminder of how much you meant to him. It was a quiet, powerful closeness—an unspoken promise that he would be there, lifting you up in every moment.

“May I-?” he asked, voice deeper than you expected, but you loved that side of him. His deep, sultry voice always sent a shiver through you. You nodded, and his hand traveled lower on your legs. You were completely bare in front of him, your own arousal dripping on the bed. He took a deep breath before his kiss trailed off from your knees to your thighs, then to your inner thighs and to your lower belly, as close as possible to your cunt. He stopped for a moment, and looked into your eyes. “You're so pretty.. just like this.

His fingers moved with a steady, knowing rhythm, pushing deeper with just the right pressure that made every nerve come alive beneath his touch. The way he watched you, eyes dark and intense, sent another thrill through your body. His thumb found that sensitive spot, circling it slowly, building an ache that made you cling to him, helplessly following the pace he set. Each breath felt heavier, a deep, pulsing heat coiling tight inside you, desperate for release.

As his fingers moved faster, pressing deeper, he murmured low praises, his lips grazing your skin, heightening every sensation with words that made you feel cherished and desired. His voice was rich, a soft command and encouragement that pushed you higher. “That’s it, just like that,” he whispered, his tone coaxing and gentle, each word grounding you as he brought you closer and closer to that peak.

Finally, the pressure shattered, sending wave after wave of euphoria rushing through you, your whole body trembling with each pulse. He didn’t stop, keeping his touch firm and steady, easing you down slowly, drawing out every last bit of sensation until you felt like you were floating, entirely weightless in his hold.

As the tremors faded, he eased his fingers back with a gentleness that made you melt into the bed. His hand caressed your thigh, grounding you, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin. He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just above your heart, his gaze filled with a quiet adoration. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, his words a gentle echo that brought you back down, cradling you in the warmth of his presence. With each slow breath, you felt yourself relax, sinking into a calm afterglow, his hand never leaving you, holding you close, safe, and utterly cherished.

He kept his gaze locked on you, his eyes soft and full of reverence as he took in every inch of you, almost as if memorizing each detail. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his fingers tracing gentle lines down your arm, over your waist, and lingering where his touch had left its mark. "Every single part of you… absolutely breathtaking." His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, a reverent tone that left no doubt in your mind about how he saw you.

Leaning closer, he brushed a thumb over your cheek, his eyes searching yours before his lips met yours in a kiss, soft at first, like a silent promise. But as the kiss deepened, his hand slipped down to your back, pulling you flush against him. You felt the warmth and firmness of his body pressing close, and the tension between you both sparked alive again, a slow burn igniting into something more intense.

With a gentle shift, he eased himself forward, closing the distance completely. The moment he slid inside you, a low, deep moan escaped him, his voice raw and full of pleasure. The sound reverberated through his chest, pressing against you as he buried himself fully, his breath mingling with yours in the shared closeness. He stayed still, savoring the feeling, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed in deeply, grounding himself in the intimacy between you.

The warmth of his hands, the depth of his gaze—it all blended into one powerful connection, a quiet moment suspended in time. His fingers brushed tenderly along your spine as he murmured against your lips, "You’re… perfect." And as he began to move slowly, his body pressing closer with each motion, his words were a steady rhythm, a mix of praise and awe. Every movement, every whispered compliment became a shared heartbeat, drawing you into him, grounding you both in a moment that felt boundless and endlessly safe.

Yeosang’s rhythm was slow, deliberate, each thrust grounding you both in the moment, his hands firm and possessive on your hips, holding you close as his deep voice murmured soft praises against your skin. With each movement, he brought you to the edge, his quiet intensity a powerful force that left you clinging to him, savoring the way he filled every part of you.

Then he stilled, his breath warm against your shoulder as he pressed a kiss there. "I want you to see yourself… the way I see you," he whispered, his voice filled with reverence. Gently, he lifted you, his arms cradling you for a moment before he turned you over, guiding you onto your belly and positioning you so you were facing the mirror on the opposite side of the room.

With one hand on your lower back, he leaned over you, his chest grazing your spine as he slowly pressed into you again. His hand remained firm on your lower back, grounding you, while the other held your waist, pulling you closer so you could feel every inch of him. His movements were unhurried, each thrust deep and steady, designed to keep you connected, to let you feel the weight of his presence with every inch.

In the mirror, his gaze stayed locked on you, his expression one of awe as he took in the sight of you beneath him, every curve and line reflected back. His deep voice resonated through you, soft words spilling out as he praised the beauty he saw, the admiration clear in his tone. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver down your spine as he pressed even closer, the fullness of his presence grounding you in the here and now.

He shifted slightly, angling his hips so that each movement brought him as deep as possible, his grip on your waist keeping you close, pulling you back to meet each thrust. His hand trailed over your lower back, anchoring you, his praise a steady rhythm in time with his movements. Watching you in the mirror, he let out a low, appreciative sound, his gaze never leaving the sight of you, wrapped in his embrace, vulnerable and cherished in a way that only he could make you feel.

As he moved within you, his rhythm slow and deep, you felt the heat rise in your cheeks, a soft flush spreading across your face as you glanced away, shy under the intensity of his gaze. Sensing your hesitation, Yeosang’s hand moved from your waist to your chin, his fingers gentle but firm as he tilted your face toward the mirror, guiding your gaze to meet his reflection.

“Don’t look away,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing, his eyes holding yours in the mirror. His thumb brushed tenderly along your jawline, his hand steady as he kept your face tilted, making sure you could see yourself exactly the way he did. “I want you to see what I see.”

He leaned over you, his lips grazing your ear as he spoke. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his words filled with quiet reverence. His gaze roamed over you, taking in every line and curve, admiration clear in the way he looked at you. “Your body… it’s perfect, exactly as it is,” he whispered, his hand returning to your waist, pulling you back against him so you could feel every inch of him, grounding you in his touch.

With each gentle thrust, he continued his praise, his deep voice resonating through you, filling you with warmth and reassurance. His hand on your chin slid down to rest on your shoulder, anchoring you as he held you close, his gaze never straying from yours in the mirror. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do,” he murmured, his tone a soft, steady reminder of how deeply he cherished every part of you.

With a few final, deep thrusts, Yeosang’s breathing grew heavier, his low, quiet moans filling the room as he buried himself completely within you. His hands tightened on your waist, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he rode out his high, each sound he made a low, reverent murmur in your ear. As the last wave passed through him, his movements slowed, gentle and lingering, savoring the closeness as he gradually stilled.

He stayed like that for a moment, holding you close, his hands grounding you as he caught his breath. Then, carefully, he lifted you up, his arms wrapped around you with a tenderness that made you feel cherished, entirely wrapped up in his embrace. Gently, he settled you in his lap, angling you so you could see the aftermath of his passion, the warmth of him still lingering as his arousal dripped from you.

With a quiet intensity in his gaze, he slowly spread your legs, his fingers gliding over your skin with a reverence that made your pulse quicken. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper as he held you close, guiding you to take in the view. “You’re a masterpiece,” he added, his words soft yet full of pride, his hands tender and steady as he let you see yourself through his eyes, appreciating every inch with a quiet awe that made the moment feel intimate and entirely yours.

With a gentle strength, Yeosang wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace, his warmth surrounding you completely. He held you close, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head as his hands ran soothingly over your back. After a moment, he scooped you up, cradling you against his chest, and carried you toward the bathroom, his gaze soft and full of care.

In the shower, he was attentive, his touch gentle as he helped you wash away the remnants of the night. His fingers combed through your hair, his hands moving with a tenderness that made you feel cherished. He stayed close, his quiet presence a comforting warmth as the water cascaded over both of you, easing away any lingering tension.

As the steam filled the space around you, you looked up at him, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice soft but sincere. “I love you, Yeosang.” Your hand reached up, brushing lightly along his cheek as you held his gaze. “I can’t be myself without you… I’m not complete without you.”

His eyes softened, and he pulled you close, resting his forehead against yours as a gentle smile spread across his face. “You’re everything to me,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. He held you like he never wanted to let go, his embrace grounding you as you stood there together, feeling whole, connected, and perfectly safe in each other’s arms.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @woolysium @memorabxlia @peachy-bell26

[thesassypadawan]

Deep Forest (Jacob x FemHalfDemonReader)

Summary: You’d overheard in your travels of a strong creature…a hulking being that wanders the forest trails at twilight, seeking out easy marks.  Begged and paid handsomely by the local villagers to exterminate this demon, you set the perfect trap…offering yourself as bait.  However you’re taken by surprise when your prey turns out to a very handsome human man…one that awakens a side of you that had long been buried.  (Story and reader are somewhat inspired by one of my favorite animes, InuYasha)

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut.  Riding (giddy up), somewhat public smex, marking, fight for power/power imbalance, and… Jacob’s long, fat dick.

- Shrugging, slipping out of your black bodysuit.  You let it fall silently to the forest floor, landing amongst your discarded armor and pack.  Rustle  Stretching lazily, inhaling the crisp mountain air.  You discreetly take in your surroundings.  Crackle   Faint breeze coming from the east, causing the spring’s surface to ripple.  Bringing the tangy scent of fruit mixed with sweet flowers.  Hints of musk, fresh sweat.  Crunch

- A twig snaps somewhere behind, ringing throughout the clearing.  You don’t react initially, opting instead to let your prey think it still has the upper hand.  To allow it to draw closer, just enough so you’re able to…

- Leaves shift.  The chitter of birdsong falls quiet, but only for a brief moment as…

- Fingers automatically thread themselves into your weapon’s leather binding.  Swinging it with trained ease, bringing it around to bear the weight…block what you sense would be a blow to your right shoulder.  However the attacker maneuvers to the left at the last moment; kicking out, sweeping your legs from underneath you.

- The two of tumble across the cold, hard ground.  Thin blade slashes, misses your now dirt and mud-covered flesh by mere inches.  Evading and rolling, you protect yourself to the best of your ability.  Even landing a few well-placed hits with the blunt, curved edge of your boomerang.  As you easily disarm one another, grappling for dominance in a passionate dance.  One that will only end in one of two ways…life or death. 

- Or…perhaps…maybe…

- Straddling your attacker’s hips, you stare down at the naked man beneath you.  Your shallow pants melding along with his; forming an almost soothing, erotic melody.  Rising and drifting towards the purple, orange skies.  “Who are you?”

- Although your question was more of a demand; it was still simple, straight to the point.  Yet he only stares up at you silently.  Blue eyes glazed over, something wild flickering deep within them.

- In retrospect, you probably shouldn’t have won this fight.  The man clearly stood a good head taller than you.  Most likely outweighing you as well by a considerable amount.  His body toned, heavily corded with powerful muscles.  That flex, contort beneath you.  Testing your balance, your grip around his thick neck.  While radiating a warmth that leeches into your thighs, causes…

- Stomach clenches, hips cant unconsciously.  “What, too embarrassed to say?  Upset that you were bested by a woman?”  Sharpened nails scratch at, sink slightly into the vulnerable curve of his throat.  “Thought I would be an easy mark…roll onto my back, part my legs for you like some spineless bitch?”

- A curious shudder vibrates through his form, sneer curling at the corners of his mouth.   “Mmmh, I was hoping so…”  Considerable length, twitching and swelling.  Hardening, pressing more firmly against your groin.  “It’s been a long time since I’ve had something pretty like you…”

- Breath catches, the coil inside your core tightens.  You should be repulsed, put off  by his unsavory choice of words and actions.  But there’s something about it; coupled with having such a strong, large being pinned down…helpless, under your control.  That was oddly arousing, that awoke a side of yourself which…

- Head tilts to the side; a predatory, feral smile spreads across your face.  “Is that so?”  Impulsively you start to rock; rubbing yourself teasingly, slowly.  The friction delicious, tantalizing.  “Maybe we can come to an agreement then…?”

- “Jacob,” he hisses through his teeth.  Cock jerking and twitching.  Smacking your stomach gently, smearing his pearly essence where your eager and fertile womb lay hidden.  “What might you have in mind…?”

- Picking up your pace, grinding against him harder.  “I go by many names.  Beast.  Abomination.  Half-breed.  Demon.”  Fighting your baser instincts to not whine, beg him to take you right then.  Fill you with…  “As for my real one though…I’ll only grace you with it if you get the job done.”

- His eyebrows rose slightly, adam’s apple bobbed between your spread fingers.  “A job, eh?”  The smell of his excitement, the opium running through his veins making your nostrils flare…mouth water.  “Care to elaborate more?”

- Lifting your hips, leaning forward.  You line up your aching, soaked core with his bulbous, dripping tip.  “It’s simple really.  You give me a litter; a substantial, strong one…”  All the while keeping your gleaming eyes trained on him…hand still fast in place around his neck.  “I’ll give you an experience that you’ve never encountered before.  Not even in your wildest fantasies…”

- “Ah, but what if I refuse?”  He grunts, fingertips digging furrows in the wet soil beneath him…thighs trembling with anticipation under you.  “Or what if I present to you a counter offer instead?”

- Nudging, allowing his head to slip past your tight rim.  “Then it better be a good one.”  Needy, desperate mewl falling from your lips.  “Less you want me to leave your body here for the other predators to feast upon…”  Quickly transforms into a soft growl of warning.  “…to rot here for eternity, in the deep forest.”

- Boldly, he grabs your sides.  Squeezes, kneads the supple flesh.  “Make me your mate…  I’ll be sure to have your belly swell every cycle with a brood of big pups…”  Pulls you roughly, impales you on himself.  Growling in his own gravelly, husky voice as you clench and flutter.  From the burning, almost inhuman stretch.  “For as long as you want…”

- Slick trickles down his shaft; dampens his tuft of wiry, blond curls.  “Then we have ourselves a deal, Jacob…”  Shallow gasps escape you, washes over the crook of his neck.  Tongue laps and licks at what you deem the perfect spot.  “Mate…”  And you sink your canines in.  Marking him, making him irreversibly yours for the rest of his life.

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @xhunnybeeex, @theladykassia, @thesmexymenace,@these-travels, @beresfordsgirl, @megathatharrypotterfan, @tygresha