#the tension it would cause afterwards

[starrywangxian]

just thinking.... what if instead of biting wei wuxian in the cave of the tulu xuanwu, lan wangji just... kissed him.

[writerfae]

Tbh I hate it when a character only suffers and suffers and it never pays off

[mv1simp]

inspired by my fav @piastrification thank you for being in my walls 🫶🫶 hope you enjoy!!

Streets ♥️

Max Verstappen x PR Manager!Reader

we play our fantasies out in real life ways, and no final fantasy, can we end these games, though?

6 months ago, F1 champion Max Verstappen traded in his status as "serious cat dad with road rage issues" for "Genius. Playboy. Millionaire. Philanthropist". Since then you've been fighting absolute demons as his PR manager to keep his reputation clean in the media. After you tell him you've had enough, he proposes a very interactive solution to your problem.

Content includes: Humour, crackfic, fluff, so much sexual tension, 18+ MDNI, smut, playboy!max, exasperated manager! reader, a very well rounded fic for once?! 4.7k WC

If someone asked you where it’d all gone downhill, you’d have to say it started because of that greedy paparrazi rat Henri - photographer at the MonacoDaily, otherwise known as every PR manager’s sleep paralysis demon. Because this particular paparazzo had a nasty knack for capturing celebrities just as they made the most atrocious decisions known to mankind. And he had an even nastier knack for threatening to sell said photos to the highest bidder. Truly, it was a dark day for any media team when they were forced to bargain with such a foul demon, who’d be able to go toe to toe with the likes of Satan himself.

So when your phone dinged at 5am on a peaceful Sunday morning, only to reveal the 7th (7th!!) message this month from the very same greedy little rat, you threw it across the room. Only to then remember you devastatingly had not been born into a Dubai oil family and you needed this job to pay Monaco rent. The text turns out to be a photo of your aggravating client - Max Verstappen, F1 champion driver, loving father to two cats, and more recently, certified manwhoreTM. He’s living upto your nickname for him, pictured in some nightclub with a half naked blonde sitting on his lap. Alright, alright, not as bad as you were expecting, you could even photoshop the girl’s hair colour to match his current girlfriend’s one maybe? Well, except the brunette woman glaring behind him is his current model girlfriend of the month. You hear a ding, another text from Henri - this time with just a 😈 and 💸👀. You throw the phone back against wall.

Three hours later you’ve cleaned up the PR nightmare and are banging on Max’s apartment door. He blearily lets you in, shirtless and still looking half drunk, but you don’t hesitate to yank him by his beltloops and drag him to the dining table (after quickly checking out that broad chest of his, though, cause goddamn. You’re just a girl.)

Ow, ow, what the hell, Max groans as he’s shoved into a chair. Please. As if you could do any real damage in your 5 foot frame to the 6 foot driver. Slamming your hands on the table for some dramatic flourish (you’re never beating the theatre kid allegations) you give the Dutchman a piece of your mind, demanding to know what his problem is, does he know how many people you’ve had to bribe this month to stop #SluttyMaxEra trending on twitter?? And yes, you know he broke up with Kelly 10 months ago but can’t he just process this healthily and go to therapy instead of having a hoe phase and hooking up with every third woman in Monaco?

Max looks insulted at this slight to his honor. He retaliates by accusing you of buying into the patriarchy and slut shaming him (-That’s not how that works but pop off king, is your deadpan response), and telling you he’s very much over Kelly, okay, it was an amicable breakup (-Sure, Verstappen, that’s why you’d only played Lana Del Ray for a whole month afterwards, huh?) and well, what’s the issue, he’s a hot and rich guy in Monaco, it’s not his fault women just want him? Would it not be #misogynistic of him to deny women the opportunity to explore their sexuality?! He smirks, pleased with his defence.

You groan, slumping down on a chair and burying your face in your hands, muffling your groan of wholesome cat dad Max comeback whennn. Max rolls his eyes at your theatrics, asking if you’d finally lost the plot.

You try cleaning up the PR messes you’ve been making, Max Emilian, you hiss furiously, remember Ibiza? Santorini? The goddamn yacht party over summer break when he got with the captain and her deputy?! (Even now, thinking of that leaking online gives you heartburn.)

Which yacht, Max says cockily, the one where he got with them one after another or at the same time?

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t even known about the threesome, so you suppose you should be grateful that wasn’t another mess to clean up. But a deeper, insecure part of you can’t help but wonder why the only woman Max doesn’t seem to want is you.

And sometimes you can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be one of his girls, under his strong body for once instead of on the other side of his hotel wall, having to drown out the very satisfied female moans and headboard bangs with noise cancelling headphones. Like always, you push that thought down quickly.

You, good sir, are for the streets, you announce, standing up and deciding it was time to leave before your delulu, jealous thoughts decided to resurface. Seriously, you mutter under your breath, you didn’t care if his current side quest was to fuck 10 times a week, but could he at least stick to one person for a bit and not make more work for you-

Max’s hand slams the front door back closed as you started to open it. You freeze, turning back to look at him smirking down at you. You hadn’t expected him to follow you down the hallway and you gulp nervously for the safety of your job - you might have taken the roasting a bit too far.

Instead, you get a sly, Oh, so I can do whatever I want, wherever I want, just with one person?

At your awkward nod, because yes, that would significantly ease your workload, he continues, enjoying teasing his uptight, pretty manager - then were you gonna offer yourself up? After all, there’s no PR messes to find out about if it’s you, right?

You blink at Max, completely stunned by the 180 this conversation has taken. Your expression is so adorable that he couldn’t resist a you’re so cute when you’re acting all jealous, you could’ve just asked if you wanted him to fuck you, ya know?

That promptly reminds you you’re dealing with an an absolute manwhore. RIP celibacy era Max, you’ll always be famous.

Um, absolutely fucking not, keep your STDs to yourself, you hiss, flushing head to toe, and furious at the desire in you to give into the devilish proposal. He encourages you to think about it, still smirking, relaxing his grip so you can mercifully flee far away from his intense gaze. Jesus, when did he learn to rizz a girl up like that?!

You don’t take his proposal seriously at all, ignoring his cocky looks at you over meetings all week (also, he’d texted you his clean STD result to assure you he was a #SafeSexKing.) But that weekend, your refusal comes back to haunt you when you’re on a well deserved night out with your girlfriends and your PR manager senses start going off. You narrow your eyes as you spot Max in the dark corner of the nightclub, hands all over a mystery redhead. She’s not going to be a mystery much longer though - if you’d spotted them it was a matter of time before fan’s phones did and then you’d wake up to another goddamn text from your sleep paralysis demon, Henri.

You don’t even have to think about it twice. Saying goodbye to your friends, you’re at Max’s side at a very impressive speed given your 6 inch stilettos and tight sparkly minidress, and once again dragging him off by the beltloops and into an open bathroom.

He lets you yank him away, smirking when he sees you lock the door for good measure. Sweetheart, he greets. So good to see you. Finally realised you couldn’t resist me?

You practically climb him like a tree while telling him to shut the fuck up and pay attention at media training day next time, because what kind of PR crisis did he have unfolding out there? And just this once you’ll help him out, you say breathlessly in between deep kisses, but this isn’t a regular thing -

There’s not much more talking from you because he has you moaning up against the wall next, fingers buried inside your tight little pussy as he talks you through an orgasm, and then another when he splits you in half on his cock. (Once again, manwhore, who carries a condom in their jean pockets?!)

Unfortunately for your self control but very fortunately for your sex life, it is not in fact, a “one time thing”. Your trusty rose vibrator is glad for the break as you’d been taking your year long frustrations at your dry spell out on her. Especially when coming home after staying in hotels where you’d had to book out rooms neighbouring Max’s, so no one else overheard the raunchy vocals of different women every night.

Like Max said, with you, there were no more illicit PR messes to find out about in the middle of the night. You’d redirect him everytime he gave you bedroom eyes (At the pre race debrief. Post race debrief. Weekly team plan meeting. Over zoom calls? Seriously?) - gently taking his large hand and guiding him to a much more hidden, PR crisis-friendly area. To your surprise, Max actually sticks to his word and only hooks up with you - admittedly, multiple times a week (Not that you’re complaining. Turns out he was just as good in bed as he was on the track. Except this time he was definitely not finishing first...)

And for a while, everything is going well. There are no more weekly scandals scattered across trashy celeb magazines about Max. Your boss is gushing with praise, so impressed that you’ve finally managed to talk some sense into Redbull’s problem child (ah, if only she knew, but she never would, because the goddamn CIA couldn’t torture this info out of you) and best of all, you haven’t gotten a text from papparazzi rat Henri in weeks!

So of course, Max Verstappen decides that things are getting just a little bit too quiet for his liking, you had to earn your generous PR manager salary, that he paid for, right? His new, numerous tactics to stir the pot had included:

Going to clubs with no private bathrooms so you’d had to sit on his lap in the VIP lounge as he pulled your panties to the side to slide into you, barely hidden under your flimsy dress. You’d held back your moans and prayed the bass was too loud for anyone to hear

Sitting right next to you at every team dinner or business meeting so that he could sneak a large hand up your thigh and tease your pussy for fucking hours, often just as you were about to speak. And when you’re clenching the table so hard your fingers were white, he’s bending under the table to pick up a pen or something but instead left teasing licks and kisses on your aching core. You'd learnt very quickly not to wear a skirt.

Picking you up in his 2 seater Aston Martin instead of the much more appropriate discreet, spacious, 5 seater Audi he owned - so when he was too pent up after a bad practise session to wait till he got home, he'd get you to go down on him right there in the car, sometimes even as he drove, instead of parking in some hidden backstreet. It was so dirty, that he needed you so desperately that he didn't care about being caught by anyone peeking in through the half tinted windows. Because if they did look, they’d find his head thrown back in pleasure as he moans, his fingers tangled in your curls as he moved your drooling, pink lips up and down his wide cock-

Anyways, you get the picture. And he’d escalated this all the way to the paddock, which was insane because there were always multiple cameras trained on the current F1 champion. It’s the one place you two couldn’t sneak off without a very high risk of being caught, as evidenced by the one and only time he'd managed to get under your skin in the garage. He'd had you pinned up against the wall in some narrow side hallway as he whispered how fucking sexy you’d looked today, wearing his hoodie to cover up the hickies you hadn’t realized you’d woken up with and paired with some tiny denim shorts. Having the 6 foot champion huskily groan that he couldn’t focus on his free practise everytime you bent over to pet a passing dog, or when you innocently sucked on the Redbull flavoured lollipops and then the goddamn ice cream from the truck they’d brought in - was quite the power trip, you admit. So you guided his lips from your neck as he tries to add to the growing bruises on your neck and redirected him to your waiting lips instead, steamily making out as his large hands squeezed your thick ass like he’d been thinking about all day-

Max?!?

You instantly pull back from the driver and turned to see a flabbergasted looking GP - Max’s race engineer. His jaw is wide open as he looked at you two with round eyes. You’re fumbling to explain, trying and failing to push Max back - who looks rather annoyed at the intrusion and semi-glares at GP with narrow eyes. You hiss at the younger man to stop being rude and slip underneath his arms, going over to guiltily apologise to GP only to be met with You too?! How did he get you in his bed, you hated how much of a slut he was! Seriously, does he have a magical dick? Now you stare at GP in shock, unsure of how to respond to his question while Max starts laughing behind you. You make him join you as you promise to GP that he will never have to witness this again, because there will be no unprofessional behaviour of any sort on the paddock after "BootyShorts Gate" as you thereafter dub the incident. Regardless, GP still shoots you both wary glances and begins the habit of announcing his arrival and waiting 10 seconds before turning a corner in the garage, earning him many an odd look. Dramatic, really, was this where Max gets it from?

Max, of course, was very displeased with this new “professionalism” rule you'd set down - on the paddock was when he'd get the most tense, the most horny and desperate to have you underneath him, after all - and he made sure you knew it. You deliberately ignored his heated gaze on you as you interviewed him, or his lingering touches when he helped you hold your microphone up to his much taller frame, large hand wrapped around your small ones clutching the mic. Or his recent favourite, which involved standing next to you to help pick out the insta pics post-race (something he'd notoriously always hated to do) - except now, he conveniently happened to be shirtless, his toned abs and broad shoulders on display, running a hand through his sweaty tousled hair.

This last seduction tactic had sent you fleeing to Checo's garage to seek out the other Redbull driver's PR manager and beg on your knees for a client swap, surely, the sponsor benefits are legendary for whoever Max's PR manager is -

Nope. Nuh uh, no way, Checo is the breeziest driver ever to look after. The other manager pauses. Well, except for the occasional political military coup scandal in Mexico. But still, I'd take that any day over El Manwhore.

You wailed at whatever Gods had decided to curse you and took matters into your own hands, furiously plotting up social media campaign idea after idea that were exactly the kind of thing Max hated with a burning passion - hoping it would get him to back off on his tactics and wave a white flag. From viral TikTok challenges, to making him read all his cringe 2008 tweets, and even making him play fuck, marry, kill with the drivers of the grid. You'd admit, that last one had been rather funny to watch, making you chuckle as you scrolled through the comments, liking "Can't believe we got Max Verstappen saying he would fuck Lewis, kill Pierre and marry Charles before GTA 6" and "does Redbull admin know she posted this on main?!"

But despite your best efforts, it didn't seem to deter Max. If anything, he'd begrudgingly do the task and end up laughing excitedly at you - who was holding the camera - about some joke or the other and make your stupid heart flutter. You knew you definitely should not be catching feelings for your client - who'd made it very clear his interest in you was only physical. But no one needed to know that sometimes you’d log into your fake account to like the "Who got max giggling and kickin his feet and shii?" comments.

Meanwhile, Max had caught wind of your desperation for an escape attempt with Checo’s manager and had upped the ante. He slyly mentioning to Christian Horner than you were doing such a great job as his PR manager, could he pretty please have you promoted to his general manager for his non racing publicity too?

And that's how you found yourself at a Dior Sauvage photoshoot, despite your adamant protests to Horner. You were putting your Masters of Business Adminstration, first class honours, to fantastic use by babysitting a 26 year old child who liked fast cars that went vroom vroom. The only redeeming factor is that you can leave the unflattering Redbull shirt at home since this wasn't for F1 publicity and instead wear a nice outfit for once. Still, you thought it was odd that Max had so easily accepted this campaign, as he wasn't normally one to enjoy doing PR.

A few minutes later you've figured out exactly why your favourite manwhore had agreed to this campaign, because he's grinning at you while posed shirtless, toned abs and broad shoulders all on display as some pretty, busty model is draped over him. The photographer is making this even more painful for you by dragging out the shoot, making Max and the model reposition herself multiple times. You roll your eyes at the scene, because obviously they're two very attractive people who will look good together no matter what, did the photographer really need to be so extra? You stalk off at some point to make yourself a hot chocolate in the hopes it'll sooth the flames of jealousy that are threatening to consume you right now. Max approaches you when a break is called, running a teasing hand along your waist from the back and whispering you looked so fucking hot in this tight maxi dress, making you nervously look around to see if anyone noticed. Luckily, all the staff appeared busy and didn’t look in the dim corner you'd settled into to do paperwork. You hiss at him to keep your hands to yourself, Verstappen making him grin and inform you that's not what you’d said last night, in fact, you were practically begging for him to do the exact opposite-

You're glaring up at him, seriously contemplating if it’s worth breaking your contract clause to "act in the client's best interests" and mauling him with your laptop when the photographer comes up to you both with narrowed eyes. You guiltily step back, thinking he overhead Max's suggestive comments, but instead he just looks back and forth between you two contemplatively. Then, just as you were about to ask him what the issue was, he announces that you'd be replacing the model as the female for the shoot. No questions asked! he announces as you try to protest and snaps his fingers at the makeup and wardrobe artists to demand they sort you out (he gestures rather dramatically to your whole figure when he says this, making you scowl).

So that's how you find yourself dressed in a silky gold minidress with a sultry eye look, pressed up against Max's broad chest and trying not to focus on the intimate position you two are in. Max, however, has no such qualms about the position, using it to tease you further. You've been looking extra tense lately, sweetheart, he breathes, those devilish lips brushing past your ear. I know a great way to make you relax? You growl at him to shut the fuck up because oh my god, did he know how many cameras are pointed at you both right now? Besides, you mutter under your breath, it seemed like he was very interested in relaxing with that blonde model earlier.

Fighting to keep the smug look of his face, Max whispers back that there was No need to be jealous, schatje, you were the only one getting access to his magical dick. So caught up in the game you two are playing, you don't even register the photographer excitedly snapping up pictures, proclaiming that he knew it, the chemistry between these two is unbelievable!

Afterwards, as you're walking off the photoshoot, feeling all hot and bothered from Max's hands running across your exposed skin, shamelessly looking you up and down, the blonde Dutchman catches up to you. He teases you that you were going to get wrinkles at 25 if you didn't stop scowling all the time. I'm older than you, you scoff back, by a whole 6 months, in fact, so maybe you should actually listen to me for once instead of pissing me off? No problem, Max agrees, after all, he's always had a thing for MILFs. You can't help snort at his retort and then start laughing when he tries to maintain an innocent look. At least you were away from the cameras in case someone heard this, you mused.

Unfortunately, you both don't notice MonacoDaily's ratbag paparrazo, Henri, hiding in nearby shrubbery with his camera. It had been far too long without a Verstappen news scandal, he thought with a satisfied smirk as he clicked away.

And later than night, after you'd eaten the chicken stir fry he'd cooked and rewatched Cars 2 (a surpassingly more regular occurrence, these days, to unwind with him at the end of the day instead of immediately being mauled the second you stepped foot in his apartment) you made sure he followed your orders for once. Sitting him back, telling him just how bad he'd been today with all his teasing (-well, it worked, didn't it, sweetheart?) you showed him just how good you were at playing the game, too. And soon, he was breathlessly moaning underneath you as you rode him for the first time, gripping his cock like you were going to milk every last drop, teasing him with just enough pace to get him worked up but not enough to send him over the edge. And you only let him cum inside you when he begged you sweetly, making you go fuzzy at the sight of the infamous Redbull playboy being so desperate for you, and only you.

Afterwards, once you've shampooed each other's hair in the shower while gossiping about how catty that makeup artist had been, really, to imply that your pretty curls had been the problem and not her shitty styling? and Max has got you spooned against him, warm in an old hoodie of his, pressing a goodnight kiss to your forehead, you can't control the warmth blossoming in your chest any longer. And as a content sleep takes a hold of you, you can't help but wonder if Max's affections went beyond physical attraction, just like yours’ were now doing.

It turned out the opportunity to find out this answer would come the very next day, when the ding of your phone wakes you up in the early hours of the morning. It’s a very specific sound that you've set for a certain ratbag - and you get war flashbacks, hearing it now after so long. Scrambling off the bed, ignoring Max's muffled groans as you shove his heavy arm of you, you unlock your phone and gasp in horror as your suspicions are confirmed. Henri has arisen from the ashes and this time it's to deliver his sauciest scandal yet. Because a picture tells a 1000 words, sure, but he has the two of you on a goddamn video, flirting and giggling at each other as you exited the studio yesterday. There's no chance of you talking your way out of this one, as Max's large palm wanders to give your thick ass a firm squeeze as he guides you into his passenger seat. Goddamn, you knew you shouldn't have worn that tempting skims maxi dress - Max was an ass (and tits) man who couldn't be trusted to control himself in public. BTW already sold this 🥸 Henri texts. Just a courtesy FYI cuz I brought a boat with the bag from this one ✌️

You contemplate if it would be better to disappear off the face of the planet, or get plastic surgery to become unrecognisable as you chug your morning Redbull while moodily looking over the Monaco sunrise. Max joins you after a few minutes, looking extremely cute as he rubs the sleep out of his baby blue eyes and asks you what's wrong, schatje.

Taking a deep sigh (like you said, #DramaKid), you break the news. I’m going to hold your hand while I say this (- that’s really not necessary, Max interrupts) - but you know celibacy exists, right? As does having sex in a private location without the risk of being arrested for public indecency?

True, Max agrees, but what was the fun in that? Besides, you were just too hot to resist. Ignoring the butterflies at his cheesy flirting, you hold up the incriminating video on your phone as proof that it was not all fun and games, as Henri had already sold this to multiple news outlets this morning, you inform glumly. Max is strangely silent, looking intently at the video and even replaying it a few times, his eyes crinkling as a soft smile appears on his face when he hears the sound of you two laughing. Then - in a truly unbelievable redemption arc plotline from the Monaco playboy - he asks if it would be so terrible, to have this made public, to let the world know that you were together?

Well, I - you stumble over your words, - I dunno, I thought you liked that? Keeping it secret cause you just wanted a convenient hook up?

Max is silent again. Then, looking uncharacteristically nervous, he says that's not what he wants, not really, not anymore - not since he'd fallen in love with you, somewhere along the 3 months of the friends with benefits/PR manager and her problematic client situationship you’d had. And like at the very start, you don’t even need to think about it twice. This time when you shyly smile and kiss him, you make sure he can feel your love through it and know that you wanted more, too.

So you walk into work that morning, holding hands in open defiance, ready for the world to see. You’re rather confused when no one seems to be paying much attention, instead frantically trying to get the set up ready for the pre race testing. Maybe you two had not been as indiscreet as you thought and people already suspected? Or maybe you both had a penchant for drama and thought you were the main characters when you clearly were not?

You look at each other, shrug, and you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’ll see him for lunch at the kebab shop on the corner, before he wanders off to the garage. Maybe Henri had a change of heart and decided not to exploit innocents for fame and money, you ponder hopefully. Maybe there truly was good in the world, after all.

And then you hear your name being called and turn to see your boss standing behind you menacingly, hands on hips. Care to explain why #MaxLovesMILFS is trending right now?

Somewhere along the Monaco waterfront, a paparazzi rat skulking in the bushes sneezes.

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A/N: again thank you so much to @piastrification for inspiring this piece!! So sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy my attempt at branching out to other fics xx tysm to you all for the requests, I am working them into my upcoming fics!! 💖

[space-snake]

Ghosts start appearing all over the world, particularly places like Gotham. They don’t seem overtly hostile though they are rather rowdy as they seem to be celebrating something.

Jason doesn’t understand why he can feel the ghosts elation or why he can apparently land a physical hit on them during what the ghost called a ‘friendly brawl’ when so far only magic users had any affect, limited as it was. (“You really need to your ass to Far Frozen man, you’re cores fucked” the ghost had said with a chuckle afterwards)

Shazam reports that the last King had been some kind of mad tyrant but can’t offer much else; he has limited knowledge of this universes Dead Realms, let alone the Infinite Realms that house them. He has no knowledge at all of the new King.

Constantine reports the last King was named Pariah Dark and nearly destroyed the Infinite Realms which would have caused reality itself to collapse. It took all of the Infinite Realms together to seal him away… and the crowning of a new King meant that he had been bested in single combat, which would make the new King even more powerful than Pariah had been.

Observation proved that the ghosts were violent and mischievous though rarely outright malicious. They liked to pull ‘pranks’ and have destructive fights. They were all eclectic individuals, though there was clearly a culture to them. And they all spoke willingly to any who would listen about the power of King Phantom, how fiercely he protected his Haunt, how often he would accept spars, how he calmed tensions between different ghost factions.

After three weeks of chaos, the ghosts suddenly disappeared. And then one more appeared on the Watchtower.

“Hello. I am High King Phantom. My apologies if my subjects have caused harm to you; they are many and the Realms are vast so it’s taking a bit to visit all the affected Living Realms and calm down celebrations. Please understand any who have broken the laws of the Infinite Realms are being dealt with. If you would like to discuss reparations, you can contact me with this; I may not answer immediately however”

The lanky teenager with white hair, a crown of burning ice, and a skull ring placed a piece of paper with a summoning circle on it on the table and promptly disappeared.

Silence.

“Anyone else expecting someone more… I dunno, kingly?”

[realcube]

bnha men as your boss

characters ♡ bakugo, iida & aizawa

tws / tags ♡ NSFW , MINORS DNI. sex, power dynamics, vaginal. specific triggers are before each character.

BAKUGO

tw : vaginal , degradation.

♡ you have to give him credit where credit is due: he is very upfront about his intentions, even before you get hired for the job

♡ he lets you know during the interview process that he is looking a for a personal assistant to not only do menial paperwork and make coffee, but to also attend to his personal needs. and that if you're not up for that, you can find another job.

♡ but you only thought of that as another perk , so you went ahead with it

♡ and like he said, a lot of your duties during the daytime were ordinary and banal: running errands, scheduling appointments and managing his calendar.

♡ but the night is when things would heat up

♡ and perhaps some of the tension and passion from the after-hours affair would still be lingering between you two come the morning, but you tried to brush it off the best you could and act normal so bakugo's co-workers wouldn't get suspicious

♡ although, they were all starting to get a feeling that something was going on between you. and their suspicions were only furthered when you came rushing into a meeting with bakugo's coffee and accidentally spilled it all over him. and instead of yelling at you or cursing you out, he just sighed and left the room to clean himself up.

♡ baring in mind, this is the same man who fired a past PA for stepping on his shoe.

♡ but really, the reason he didn't lash out on you in front of everyone else in the meeting, was because he knew he would get to do it later..

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

he has you bend over his office desk, ass up and bare while he rams into your leaking pussy. one hand is tangled in your hair to keep your face pressed crudely against the smooth surface, while the other is free to imflict hot smack against your ass. coming down and causing a surge of pain to race through you, as he leaves a searing handprint on your supple skin.

"what the fuck.." he grits through his teeth, his harsh pace unwavering, "was that?"

you groan against the desk, your whole body shakes with each fierce thrust into your tight pussy, creating lewd slapping noises. " 'm sorry.. katsu— ah! " you're cut off as he lands another rough slap against your ass, gripping the flesh in his scolding hand afterwards.

"you're gunna be fuckin' sorry." he groans, entranced by the way your walls grip onto him in reaction to the impact. continuing to plough into you at an absurd rate, his girthy cock splitting you right open, and causing your pussy to leak all over him. "let's see if your still such a clutz after i'm done with this dumb pussy." he spits down at you, rubbing the fluid against your folds for a disgusting mixture of liquids.

"gunna use it til you can't walk." he slaps both cheeks this time consecutively, gaining two identical yelps from you, at which he chuckles lowly between thrusts. " 'ts all your good for anyway."

IIDA

tw : praise

♡ very much a gentleman

♡ despite the fact he feels a certain way about you , he would do his best to suppress his feelings and avoid acting on them as he knows he's your boss and he'd hate to make you uncomfortable

♡ but even though he tries his best to treat you the same as everyone else.. pretty much anyone, including yourself, can pick up on the fact he likes you

♡ it's made obvious by the way he gravitates towards talking to you first thing in the mornings, and how even the most banal conversation between the two of you is enough to put a cheesy grin on his face and start his day off well

♡ or the way he gives you the lightest workload out of all his other sidekicks and employees

♡ or how he praises you for doing even the most minor accomplishments or carrying out the most straight-forward duties. you once did 10 minutes of overtime and the next day he gushed to you about your outstanding work ethic for like half an hour and continued to rave about you to everyone else, as though you were a star worker

♡ and you just can't help but find all of this quite endearing. and if you were being honest, he was quite attractive too. the way he'd flash you a cute smile and you'd get a whiff of his strong, musky cologne whenever he'd walk by you in the hallway was enough to make your head spin — you really couldn't get enough of him.

♡ which is why you said yes when he eventually asked you out to dinner

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

"such a good girl.." he groans against your skin, peppering soft kisses down your neck and collarbone, while you're stood with your back pressed flush against his foyer wall. the tension between you two was too thick, you couldn't wait until you made it to his bedroom before starting.

his hand delicately traces your curves as his lips make their way down your chest, nibbling at your clothed nipple before halting. casting his crimson red eyes up to meet your own, "now, do you promise not to tell anyone else at work about this, sweetheart?" he mutters, lips inches away from yours, as his hot breath teases you.

"why not?" you squeak as his hand roams under your dress and his strong palm grinds against your needy clit.

he almost chuckles at your innocent question, "it's not very professional what we're doing together." he clarifies, using his fingers to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, while the fingers of his other hand continue to explore between your thighs, and gently rub against your heat through your soaking panties. "but i really don't want this to end, do you?"

your lip quivers and you shake your head, "no.." you say breathily, capturing his hand between your legs, "i need you." you whine out for more, as he was giving you just enough to leave you desperate.

"i need you too, angel."

AIZAWA

tw : thigh riding, implied age gap.

♡ very indifferent; king of (pretending to be) nonchalant

♡ they'd likely give him a teaching aid for the betterment of the class' academic performances or something like that, and he'd be really opposed to the idea because he thinks he can run the class just fine on his own, like he has been for years now

♡ but he'd slowly but surely come around on the idea of having a teaching aid, not only because it gives him more time to sleep instead of working, but also because you are his aid and he can't be mad at the fact he gets to spend time with you

♡ the two of you have undeniable chemistry straight off the bat, but you do your best to hide it in front of the students and other teachers

♡ but it's definitely there.. and it doesn't take long for the chemistry to manifest in your after-hours discussions

♡ there is probably a little bit of age gap going on in your relationship , but nothing too drastic. you're just the new, barely experienced aid looking to gain wisdom off aizawa, so you spend the majority of your shift swooning over him, trying to get him to teach you stuff and show him all the resources you've made in an attempt to impress him

♡ meanwhile he's just straight-faced the whole time, pretending to be unamused.. even though, on the inside he is quite charmed by you and thinks you're just the sweetest

♡ maybe, if you're extremely observant, you'll see him crack the tiniest smile inbetween sips of his coffee, while you are enthusing to him about your new lesson plans

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

he's sat at his desk in his private office after-hours, with papers scattered all over it. in one hand is his red pen which he is using to grade papers, and in the other is your waist. you are straddling his thigh, with your arms draped lazily around his shoulders and your nose buried into the crook of his neck.

feeling the subtle flex of his muslces against your already sopping cunt caused you to groan into his neck. you had worn a dress today with no tights so your clothed pussy was sat directly on the harsh material of his jeans, but you wanted to experience every single ounce of satisfaction. hence, you pulled your panties to the side and pressed your bare cunt against his thigh, whining like a whore into the emptiness of his office.

though he didn't pay you any mind, and was fixated on his papers. which somehow made the situation even hotter. soon, you began to grind against his leg, sliding yourself back and forth, allowing the fricition between your sensitive cunt and the rough denim to coarse through you. pressing your tender clit down against him repeatedly, and moaning his name lewdly like he was the one responsible for your worlds of satisfaction. which he partially was, even though he put no effort into it. he wouldn't even spare you a glance when you were screaming out for him.

it was a while before you were able to make yourself come undone all over his leg, but it was all so worth it. one of the most cathardic climaxes of your life. you were panting heavily and completely out of breath, laying your tired body against his for a few minutes, until he told you to sit upright.

his hand wandered down to your cunt, and even the fleeting brush of his fingers against your heat was enough to make you whine lowly. but really he was trying to established how wet you were, and of course when he pulled his fingers away, they were drenched with your juices. "hm," he grumbles, exmaning his hand, "look at this mess. who is going to clean this up, dear?"

argh sorry this is short i was gonna write another character but idk who......

[ghostfacd]

I’M A JEALOUS, JEALOUS, JEALOUS, BOY. | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. after gaining massive popularity, you star another show where you have to kiss your co star, which tom isn’t exactly happy about

AUTHOR NOTE. Two posts in one day? Who am I??anyway! This was self indulging because I love Steven Conklin and nobody writes for him 😔 As always, reblogs and comments make me more motivated to continue this series :)

installment of this au | the reader plays fictional character “ella fisher” in tsitp!

Tom wasn’t a jealous guy, at least, he didn’t think so. He was very secure in your relationship, always making sure he didn’t let his emotions get the best of him.

Like when you told him you had gotten the role of Conrad and Jeremiah Fisher’s sister in The Summer I Turned Pretty, and how you were Steven Conklin’s love interest, he congratulated you with a big hug.

He knew who was playing Steven—Sean Kaufman. There was no doubt that Steven was a very charming guy.

“You’re here!” You say giddily, engulfing your boyfriend in a hug when he approached you. “Daisy was just patching up the last of my concealer. Did you get any food?”

Daisy was your makeup artist—and one of the sweetest girls you’ve ever met in your life. She knew the cast pretty well, so when you first got here, she helped break the ice between you and them.

“You know I did,” Tom says, placing the paper bag down on your table. He opened it up, retrieving an iced matcha latte and a poke bowl. You squealed in delight, excited to eat after filming for so long.

“So how was your day?” You say, cheekily grinning at him as you ate your bowl.

“Tiring? I did a photo shoot, it was fun. Then I went home and took a nap, and then I drove to buy you food.”

“Well thank you babe,” you say. “Today was such an exhausting day, so much retakes cause of all the sand. But God do I love this show to death. It’s so much all at once but in a good way, you know?”

“Well I’m just excited to see my girl on the big screen,” Tom smiles, leaning in to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“YN! Time to film again!” The voice of your director calls out, making you shove your bowl into Tom’s hands and rushing over to the cameramen.

Tom carefully places your bowl down, walking over quietly behind the cameras to watch your scene up close.

He watches as you talk to Lola, who plays Belly, about your plans after high school, and how you wanted to apply for Princeton just like Steven. She rolls her eyes, saying how she doesn’t get how you and Steven get along so well.

Later in the scene, you and Sean sit close together in front of a campfire. Tom remembers vividly of you telling him there was a scene between your character and Steven where the two of you would get extremely close. Tom feels his breath hitch when he sees Sean make you laugh. He knows that it’s just acting—that your character and Sean’s character are love interests in the show, and that it means nothing in real life.

But he just feels so weird. His stomach is in knots, and it feels like his mouth is dry.

“You know,” Sean begins, leaning in close to your face. “I know Belly doesn’t want me liking any of her friends, and your brothers would totally kill me if they knew; but you’re making it so hard.”

“Really Steven?” You fake giggle, leaning closer to his touch. “Well they don’t have to know.”

Sean laughs at your comment, his head falling against your shoulder, something that Tom had always done with you.

And then he sees the director cue the cameramen to zoom in, and then there it is. — You and Sean kiss, and Tom feels his feet move away from the scene without even realizing.

“And… cut!” The director says, clapping. “Good job Sean and Y/N! You really captured the tension between Steven and Ella. That’s a wrap!”

You hug Sean afterwards, the two of you laughing about how stupid the kiss must’ve looked but you knew the viewers would eat it up once the episodes aired.

“Where’s that boyfriend of yours?” Gavin asks, suddenly showing up behind you and Sean.

“Gavin!” You say, putting your hand to your chest. “Way to scare a girl to death!”

Gavin laughs, poking at your sides teasingly. “Just kidding, I know where he is. Stormed off where Lola and Christopher are standing.”

“Storm off?” You say, confused.

“Seems like lover boy wasn’t too keen on you kissing our Sean over here.”

You quickly make your way towards where Lola and Christopher were standing, and just like Gavin had said, Tom was standing behind them. He didn’t look too happy.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, pulling the boy away for some privacy.

“It’s nothing.”

“Oh c’mon,” you scoff. “It can’t be nothing. Gavin said you stormed off earlier.”

Tom sighs, clearly wanting to drop the topic. But one look into your genuine concerned eyes makes him crack.

“I was jealous.” He admits, biting his lip back in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

You bite back a smile, arms linking with his. “Awe babe, it’s okay. Just acting. Just like how you kissed Rachel in the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah,” Tom sighs, bringing your body close to his. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have felt that way.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, smiling brightly. “Feeling jealous is bound to happen with our job, as long as we communicate about it, everything will be fine.” You hug his side, snuggling your face into his coat. “Plus, you know Sean has a girlfriend, right?”

“What?” Tom seems baffled, but he quickly covers it up. “No, yeah, I knew that.”

“Uh huh,” you tease, “don’t worry Tom, I love you the most.”

He leans down, making eye contact with you. “Well I sure hope so, because I love you the most as well.”

And everything was perfect until Gavin lets out a fake barf, telling the two of you to “get a room”.

“Oh get out of here Gav!” You say, shooing him away.

“Yeah Gavin, let the couple have their moment!”

That makes everyone laugh, and you swore you never felt happier than you did right now.

[cupidsdolll]

The Feeling Came Late

Prologue

pairings: grumpy!college student!Harry x fem!sunshine!reader

summary: Harry hates Y/N, it seems like it's been like that forever. He's quick to insult and correct her even when she's right, he's just always been the only one to pick on her no matter what she does. She doesn't understand why it's like this between them or what she did to make him dislike her so much, but what if it's all just a lie?

overall warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, kind of enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol consumption and drug mentions, foul language, Harry is a major asshole in this tbh, heavy on the grumpy x sunshine in this.

chapter .5/? (wc: 1.5k)

masterlist

- - - - - -

Fond memories ignored, thrown away in a second as if they meant nothing to him. Like the years of laughter were all just a dream, but they’re not. They were real and it drove him crazy. Harry only stared at the wall, face red and tears streaming down his face angrily. He didn’t know what to do, he was lost. He was angry, angry at the world, at himself because that was his best friend and at her. 

He was just a boy, a kid when it happened. Happy in his “prime years” of high school, he was thriving academically and socially. He was on top of his class work and one of the top students in all of his classes, alongside his childhood friend. They stayed friendly whenever they competed against each other, giving their congratulations when the other won in anything. Harry enjoyed the thrill of trying to be the first one to turn in his assignment though, he enjoyed the friendly banter they shared afterwards and during. It became their normal, he looked forward to it. 

Then it happened, and he was left broken. A shell of the smart and extroverted boy he once was. He can remember every detail of that day, he had just come home from hanging out with his childhood best friend – they had just gotten done studying and finishing the last episode of the season of their favorite TV show – when his mom walked alongside with him. The ride back home from her house to his was silent, filled with a sense of sadness and Harry couldn’t understand why she wasn’t happy. His mom was happy when she dropped him off at school that morning. She sat him down in their living room and said that this was important, and told him. She kept apologizing and trying to reassure him that everything was being done, tried, efforts were being done. They were going to fix this, help him. 

Of course, Harry’s just a kid who’s already dealing with all the new emotions of puberty and teenage feelings, so he screamed at her. Yelled something along the lines of “No, you’re lying and I hate you” but that’s still up for debate, he doesn’t think of this day often. He’d stormed away from her crying figure, her apologies are no good to him, won’t make everything better. He cried, screamed and threw things. He destroyed his room, tearing down pictures and throwing trophies, his vision was blurred from all of the tears in his eyes. He hated himself, it wasn’t his fault though. Nothing he could’ve done would have changed what happened, he couldn’t have stopped it. He knows that deep down, but he has to put the blame on someone, and it only makes sense that it has to be him. 

When he calmed down some, he’d taken all of his pictures off the wall, he couldn’t look at all of the times he was happy. It only reminded him of the feeling in his chest, and he stashed them all away in a box to be kept in his closet. Out of sight, out of mind he hopes will be the cause, but he kept two pictures. He couldn’t bear to have them forgotten, even if they were going to be locked away still. They were special, the people in the picture were special. They’ll always be special, so he cried some more as he placed them in his nightstand drawer. He spent the majority of the night crying, the tears seemed never ending and he hated it. He ignored his mom calling him for dinner and his sister who knocked on his door to check on him. She only sighed and reminded him that she loves him and will be there for him if he needs anything before she left him alone and headed back to her own room. 

Over time, he changed. It wasn’t gradual though, it was very noticeable. He stopped trying to compete with her, stopped trying to be the first anything. He stopped raising his hand, stopped putting efforts into presentations and powerpoints, stopped caring. He started getting into weed, he refused to try any of the harder stuff – not like his friends would give him any, they still had somewhat good morals and he also tried drinking. (A good thing about having older friends is the easy access to these types of things.) He stopped wearing soft and colorful clothes and started wearing darker clothes, jeans with rips in them and short sleeved shirts tight enough to showcase his growing muscles. He worked out more, wasn’t the lanky little boy she used to know anymore, his language expanded, started using more curse words and his tone grew disinterested and mean.

 He knew she watched him from a distance with sad eyes, he knew she tried to help him. He listened from his doorway as his mom talked to her, saying any excuse she can think of to not worry the little girl. 

‘Harry’s just not feeling very good, dear.’ ‘Harry’s just tired, he’s had a long day.’ ‘You know teenage boys can be difficult dear, he’ll come around soon,’ and other excuses were told to his friend when she came to check on him. He couldn’t exactly make out what the girl was saying in response to his mom, she’s always been such a soft speaker, and it upsets him more. He just wants to be left alone and she cares so much for him that she just want to help in any way,  and he doesn’t want to be rude and tell her to fuck off so he has his mom deal with it. She’s the emotional support thinker, not him. 

After a couple of minutes he hears the door shut so he closes his bedroom door and sits back on his bed, the two pictures laid out on his bed as a reminder of the love for his two closest friends, but also as a reminder of the pain he feels and the tears shed over something that wasn't his fault, the blame he put on himself. He sighs sadly as he looks at them once more before he gathers them and sets them in his nightstand drawer. He tries not to look at those pictures too often, he hates how they make him feel. Any time he looks at his best friend’s photo, it fills him with overwhelming sadness, bitter and hurtful. It fills his chest and makes him feel like he’s drowning in sadness, there’s sometimes a hint of anger but that’s never at him. It’s always directed towards himself, not his friend. He could never be mad at him, he was the closest guy friend he’s had and will ever have, he won’t have another one. When he looks at hers, it used to be happiness, love and adoration but it’s turned into anger and  jealousy. Her name will always leave a bitter taste in his mouth, his lips will always turn into a frown at the fleetest thought of her. 

He hates her, hates how smart she is, how she’s always somehow better at everything than him even when he spent hours working on something. He loathes how she just always knows what to say. He hates how she never fell off or even wobbled off the hill she was on no matter what was going on in her life. He dislikes how much he wishes he could be like that. He abhors how much even though he wants nothing to do with her right now that he still longs to be those little kids playing together and studying and gossiping. He especially hates how deep down he hopes that she’ll wait for him or beg for him to let her in, how he actually wants her to fight for their friendship. He loathes how much he misses her.

Instead of acting on those terrible ideas in his head on rekindling their friendship, he focuses on his popularity. High school ends and during the summer he experiments with his look, becomes a ladies’ man and immerses himself in that. He enjoys sex, the feeling of it all. The intimacy of something shared between two people, the feverish kisses and the sounds of his partners enjoying themselves. It’s a very good distraction from the one person who doesn’t seem to leave his mind. His reputation as a ladies’ man and a very skilled person grows, he becomes popular not only with the ladies in school but also with the fellow jocks of the school. He dabbled a little bit in the sports aspect of his education, he also tried out for the soccer team at his school. He’s always loved the sport, even as a little boy, something about the running and kicking balls amused him. He was also a pretty fast learner which helped his case a lot, but he still passed. He dabbled in a lot of different sports, not wanting to tie himself down to just one thing which applied to multiple different areas in the boy’s life. He tried anything to rid himself of one of the two names that haunts him no matter what.

[goldfades]

★ THOUGHT OF CALLIN' YA, BUT YOU WON'T PICK UP / 'NOTHER FORTNIGHT LOST IN AMERICA / MOVE TO FLORIDA IOWA, BUY THE CAR YOU WANT / BUT IT WON'T START UP 'TIL YOU TOUCH, TOUCH, TOUCH ME ─── PB⁵ (part 2/2)

❪ requested -> paige and ex gf!reader that plays on iowa where theres a lot of tension on the court bc they ended on rough terms but u can see that they still care abt each other yet have to prioritize the game // hii could u write for paige x ex gf iowa!reader where they play against each other in the final four and everyone can tell theres sm tension on the court between them bc they ended on rough terms ? they still care abt each other a lot but r forced to put those feelings aside for the sake of the game (but they def had a talk afterwards) - u can make it so that iowa still won or uconn won i think either one would be interesting ! tysm ❫ part one!!!!!!!!!!!!

─ warnings | dramatic as FUCK, resolution type shit, iowa v. uconn but like i changed a bunch of stuff so it's not "canon" to real life LMAO. uhhh angst?? idk?? HAPPY ENDINGGG!!!!!!!

─ ev's notes | i just picked LA sparks cause thats the team i want paige to go to but uh it might not be realistic, also this will make sense when u finish ;)

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

APRIL 1, 2024

THE AIR WAS ELECTRIC in the arena as the final buzzer sounded, sealing UConn’s victory over USC in the 2024 NCAA Finals.

Confetti rained down, and the deafening roar of the crowd filled the space as the Huskies celebrated their hard-fought win. Paige Bueckers, at the center of it all, was surrounded by her teammates, hugging and shouting in excitement.

Hours later, the team was at an afterparty, the celebratory atmosphere continuing. Music blared, and laughter filled the room as the players enjoyed their victory. Paige, drink in hand, was beaming, her joy evident to everyone around her. She had worked so hard for this moment, and it was everything she had hoped for. She overcame her ACL injury and everyone who had doubted her, she'd ─ no, they'd ─ made it to the Final Four.

As Paige moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and sharing in the excitement, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was a news alert about the NCAA tournament brackets.

"Iowa knocked out LSU," Paige read aloud, her brow furrowing. The notification showed that Iowa had defeated LSU in a close game, securing their spot in the next round. This meant that UConn would be playing against Iowa next, and therefore against Y/N L/N.

The realization hit Paige like a ton of bricks. She stood still for a moment, the noise and celebration around her fading into the background. She was going to have to play against you.

The same Y/N who had been such a significant part of her life (arguably was the most important part), who she had argued with and ultimately lost, who had moved on and found success elsewhere.

A mix of emotions surged through Paige — anxiety, determination, and a hint of sadness. She hadn't seen you played alongside you since your explosive breakup and your transfer to Iowa. Now, they were going to face each other on one of the biggest stages in their collegiate careers.

Nika noticed Paige's sudden change in demeanor and walked over. "Hey, what's up? You look like you've seen a ghost, we won the game, remember?" she tried to lighten the mood as she smiled.

Paige forced a smile, shaking her head slightly. "Nah, it's just... LSU lost to Iowa. We're going to have to play them next."

Nika raised an eyebrow, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Oh. Y/N."

"Yeah," Paige replied, taking a sip of her drink to steady herself. "Y/N."

Aaliyah joined them, catching the tail end of the conversation. "What about Y/N?"

Paige sighed, glancing between her friends. "We're going to play against her in the next round. Iowa knocked LSU out."

Aaliyah gave a sympathetic nod. "Oh shit. That's... that's going to be intense."

"Tell me about it," Paige muttered. She took a deep breath, trying to push aside the personal turmoil and focus on the challenge ahead. "But we have to be ready. This isn't just about me and Y/N. It's about the team. We have to win."

Nika clapped Paige on the shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. "Exactly. And we will. You've got this, P. We'll face whatever comes our way together."

It left a bitter taste in their mouth, Y/N ─ their (besides Paige, obviously) good friend and old teammate ─ now, they had to knock her out or vice versa.

Aaliyah, sensing Paige's inner turmoil, leaned in closer. "Paige, you've always been one of the strongest people we know. You can handle this. And who knows, maybe facing Y/N will bring some closure."

Paige nodded, appreciating Nika's words. "Yeah, maybe. It just feels... complicated."

Nika chimed in, her tone supportive yet firm. "It is complicated, but remember why we're here. We've worked too hard to let anything distract us now. We owe it to ourselves and to our fans to give it our all."

Paige took a deep breath, steeling herself. "You're right. This is about the team and our goal. We need to stay focused."

Aubrey, who had been quiet, suddenly spoke up. "Y/N is a great player, but so are we. We’ve got each other's backs, and that’s what matters. We’re Huskies, and we fight together."

The next day, practice was intense. The team worked tirelessly, their focus razor-sharp. Coach Geno was relentless, pushing them to their limits. Paige appreciated the rigorous drills, as they helped distract her from her thoughts about Y/N.

──

"Didn't you like, date Paige?" Gabbie spoke up as she glanced toward you, a curious expression on her face. "Like, Paige Bueckers at UConn?"

Everyone was in your hotel room, trying to recover from the afterparty last night. LSU was a hard fought win and everyone was really feeling the win, especially after the controversy from last year so obviously that meant drinks with the team.

Gabbie and Jada were on your bed, Kate had her head on your shoulder as Caitlin struggled to keep her eyes open, despite her laying upright in the chair.

Kate's head perked up at the name, looking up to gauge your expression. It'd been a while since someone (other than reporters) asked you about her, your heart skipping a beat at the mention. The only people who really knew what really happened were Caitlin and Kate, you didn't want to open up about it to anyone else.

Caitlin's eyes opened as she gave you a look. She wanted to speak up before you answered, giving her a nod.

"Yeah, uh a while back." You answered with a nervous smile, feeling the weight of everyone's attention. The room, filled with the soft sounds of recovery and idle conversation, seemed to focus in on you for a moment.

Gabbie raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Wow, that's wild. Must be kind of crazy having to play against your ex in such a big game."

Kate shifted slightly, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. Caitlin, still half-asleep, managed a supportive smile. You appreciated their silent encouragement.

"Yeah, it can be," you admitted, trying to keep your voice steady. "But at the end of the day, it's about the game and the team. We’re all here to win."

Jada, who had been quietly listening, chimed in. "That’s a good mindset. It’s gotta be tough, but you’re been handling it really well. Better than me,"

"Thanks," you replied, feeling a bit more at ease. "I just try to focus on what I can control. And right now, that's playing my best for the team."

Caitlin's eyes fully opened now, her gaze steady on you. "And you've been killing it. We wouldn't be here without you."

"Same goes for you, Cait," you responded, grateful for her unwavering support. "We’re all in this together."

Gabbie still seemed curious but nodded, respecting the boundaries you had set. "Well, for what it's worth, I think it's pretty badass. Turning something tough into motivation like that."

"Yeah," Kate added, her voice gentle. "And besides, we’ve got your back no matter what."

The room fell back into a comfortable rhythm, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. You felt a wave of relief, glad that the subject had been handled with sensitivity by your teammates. It reminded you of why you loved this team so much ─ their understanding, their support, and their ability to focus on what truly mattered.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself thinking about the upcoming game against UConn. It was inevitable that facing Paige would stir up old emotions, but you knew you were ready. Your time with Iowa had been transformative, helping you grow not just as a player, but as a person.

You had a team that believed in you, and you believed in them. That was enough to face any challenge, even one as personal as this.

The next day at practice, the atmosphere was intense but focused. The coaches ran through plays, strategies, and drills, emphasizing teamwork and communication. You felt a renewed sense of determination, ready to give it your all.

After practice, Caitlin and Kate approached you, their expressions serious yet supportive. "You good?" Caitlin asked, her concern evident.

"Yeah," you said, nodding. "I'm ready."

Kate smiled, her eyes reflecting pride. "We’re gonna crush it. Together."

You smiled back, feeling the warmth of their support. "Yeah, we are."

──

APRIL 5, 2024

"And here we are folks, the most anticipated of the season! The NCAA Women's Basketball Championship Final Four is about to tip off, featuring the Iowa Hawkeyes against the UConn Huskies!" The commentator's voice boomed through the packed arena, the excitement palpable among the sea of fans.

The camera panned over the teams warming up on the court. The Iowa Hawkeyes, led by their star player Caitlin Clark and Y/N L/N, looked focused and determined. On the other side, the UConn Huskies, with their legendary coach Geno Auriemma and standout players like Paige Bueckers and Nika Muhl, were equally intense.

"Tonight's matchup is not just a clash of two powerhouse teams, but a story of redemption and rivalry." The commentator continued. "Y/N L/N, former UConn star, now shining with Iowa, will face off against her old team. This game has all the makings of an instant classic."

Kate stood behind you, giving your shoulders squeeze as you let out a surprised yelp. "Ow!"

Kate smiled as she put her arm around you. "You nervous?"

You laughed, shaking off the nerves. "A little bit. It's a big game."

Kate squeezed your shoulder again, this time more gently. "You've got this, Y/N. We've all got your back. Just play your game."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Kate. That means a lot."

As the team huddled up for a final pep talk, Caitlin took the lead. "This is our moment. We've worked hard to get here, and now it's time to finish what we started. Play for each other, leave everything on the court, and let's bring that trophy home!"

The team roared in agreement, the energy palpable as you broke the huddle and took your positions on the court. You were guarding Paige, that was the ultimate goal for you ─ make sure she does not score.

As you walked to the court, your gazes met and your heart sank. She looked determined, her eyes sharp and focused, a mirror of your own intensity. Her blue eyes carried years of memories, both beautiful and painful. There was a time when those eyes looked at you with nothing but love. Now, they were filled with a competitive fire, and something else ─ something you couldn’t quite place.

But you also knew that you were ready. You had trained for this, prepared for this, and you were not going to let her outshine you. She looked you up and down, but she kept her lips shut as you took your position.

Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. But you were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.

The whistle blew, and the game began. The crowd's cheers became a distant roar as you zeroed in on Paige. Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. She tried to shake you off with a quick pivot, but you anticipated her move and stayed in front of her, blocking her path to the basket.

You were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.

Right from the start, the intensity was through the roof. UConn came out strong, with Paige leading the charge. She was as formidable as ever, hitting shots from all over the court and orchestrating the offense with precision. But Iowa matched their intensity, with Caitlin and you leading the charge.

"Clark drives to the basket... passes to L/N... she shoots... and it's good! Y/N L/N ties the game at 20!" the commentator exclaimed.

As the game progressed, the physical exertion mirrored the emotional toll. Each bump, each shove, was a reminder of the walls that had gone up between you two. You could hear the crowd, the commentators, your coach shouting instructions, but it all faded into the background.

All you could focus on was Paige, everything about her almost felt like a ghost of someone who you'd known intimately but had somehow become a stranger. The familiarity of her movements, the way she dribbled the ball, the sheer determination in her eyes ─ it all brought back memories that you had tried so hard to bury.

As the game progressed, those memories kept flooding back. Late-night talks after practice, shared laughter over inside jokes, the way her hand used to fit perfectly in yours. Each interaction on the court was laden with unspoken words, with the weight of what once was and what could never be again.

In a particularly intense moment, Paige drove to the basket, and you fouled her hard, sending her sprawling to the floor. Time seemed to slow as you reached out a hand to help her up, your eyes locking onto hers. The crowd's noise dimmed, and for a brief second, it felt like it was just the two of you.

"I'm fine," she said, brushing off your hand and getting up on her own. But her voice was softer, lacking the sharp edge it had carried since the breakup.

"Sorry," you muttered, more for everything unspoken between you than for the foul itself.

She gave a curt nod, her expression unreadable as she walked to the free-throw line. You could see the conflict in her eyes, the same one that mirrored your own. Despite the competitive fire, there was an undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore, could ever ignore.

Midway through the first half, there was a brief pause in play. Paige looked over at you, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. "You're really making this tough," she said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"Just doing my job," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. Inside, you were a whirlwind of emotions.

The first half ended with both teams neck and neck. In the locker room, Coach Blunder gave a rousing speech, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about Paige ─ the good times, the bad, and everything in between. The harsh words exchanged during the breakup, the regret that followed, and the lingering hurt that neither of you had ever fully addressed.

Each glance, each brush of your arms, felt like an electric shock. It was more than just a battle for victory; it was a confrontation of your shared past and the emotions you had both tried to suppress.

Back on the court, the tension was palpable. "Paige on the drive... she dishes it out to the wing, but L/N intercepts! What a defensive play!" The commentator’s voice boomed, but you barely registered it, too focused on the person right in front of you.

In a brief moment when the ball was out of play, Paige walked up beside you. "You're playing good, L/N," she said, breathless but sincere. It was the first civil thing she had said to you in months.

"Thanks," you replied, your heart aching. "You too."

The final minutes of the game were a blur. With the score tied and the clock winding down, Paige had the ball. She drove towards the basket, and you were right there with her. She went up for a shot, and you blocked it, the ball flying out of bounds. The whistle blew, and UConn called a timeout.

As both teams huddled up, coach emphasized the importance of the next play. "This is it. One more stop, and we win this."

When the game resumed, UConn inbounded the ball to Paige. She glanced at you, her expression a mix of determination and something else ─ something softer. She made a move towards the basket, but you stayed with her, your eyes never leaving hers. She pulled up for a jumper, and you leapt, your hand just grazing the ball enough to alter its trajectory.

"Caitlin grabs the rebound... she sprints down the court... passes to L/N... Y/N for the win... and it's in! Iowa takes the lead with seconds to spare!"

The buzzer sounded, and the gym erupted in cheers. Your teammates rushed to embrace you, lifting you high as the reality of your victory set in. You had done it. You had faced off against one of the best ─ and your ex ─ and emerged victorious.

You felt the tears of happiness trail down your face uncontrollably as you shouted, "We did it! We actually did it!" Your voice was almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd and the jubilation of your team.

As you were carried around in celebration, your eyes searched for Paige. Despite the euphoria of the win, there was a part of you that needed to see her, to understand her reaction. You spotted her near the sidelines, her expression a mixture of disappointment and quiet acceptance.

Gently, you extricated yourself from your teammates' embrace and made your way over to her. The noise of the gym seemed to fade into the background as you approached. Paige looked up, meeting your gaze with those familiar blue eyes that had once been your world, except now they were teary eyed.

"Uh, congrats, Y/N." She sniffled, her voice steady but soft. There was a depth of emotion in her eyes, a mix of pride and sadness that tugged at your heart.

"Thanks, Paige," you replied, your voice catching slightly. "You played an amazing game. You always do."

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "You too. You deserved this win."

There was a moment of silence, a charged pause where the weight of your shared history hung between you. Finally, you broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," you whispered suddenly, your stomach twisting in gulit.

Paige scoffed, shaking her head. "For what? Playing your best? Don't apologize-"

"No. For having to be the one to take you guys out. I mean... you guys are my family," you felt your own tears build up in your eyes. "Were my family," you corrected quickly.

Paige's expression softened, her teary eyes locking onto yours. "We are a family, that doesn't just go away. But you have your own path to follow, Y/N. And it's okay. We all knew this day might come."

You felt a lump in your throat, struggling to find the right words. "I just... I never wanted it to end like this, with us on opposite sides."

Paige reached out, her hand finding yours and squeezing it gently and it felt like how it did, two years ago. "Life doesn't always go the way we want, but that doesn't mean what we had wasn't real or important. We grew together, and now we're growing apart. It's part of the journey."

You nodded, swallowing hard. "I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."

Paige's smile was bittersweet. "Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."

The tears spilled over, but you managed to smile through them. "Thank you, Paige. That means more than you know."

Before you could even process it, Paige pulled you into a tight hug. She buried her face in your neck as you felt your tears flow freely, her breaths coming in hiccups. You hugged her back just as tightly, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort you had once known so well.

Her lips found your temple, pressing a kiss on to it. You squeezed her tighter, but it was a cathartic release, a letting go of all the hurt and tension that had built up over the past years.

After what felt like an eternity, Paige pulled back slightly, her eyes red and puffy but filled with a kind of peace. Before she could say it, you felt someone's hands on your back. You met the eyes of Nika, pulling her into a hug.

And soon, the seniors of your old team surrounded you, taking their own turn in hugging you and congratulating you. It was bittersweet moment, reunion tinged with the pain of separation but also the joy of shared memories and accomplishments. Each hug brought a new rush of memories, a reminder of the bond you had shared with these incredible women.

"Well, what a remarkable sight we're witnessing right now," the lead commentator said, his voice tinged with emotion. "It's not just about the victory for Iowa or the hard-fought battle for UConn. This is a moment of true sportsmanship and personal connection. You can see the genuine respect and love these players have for each other, transcending the rivalry and the outcome of the game."

His co-commentator nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. It's moments like these that remind us why we love sports. It's not just about the competition, it's about the camaraderie and the human stories behind the game. These athletes have given everything on the court, but off the court, they are still friends, still a family in many ways."

The camera panned across the court, capturing the emotional reunions and heartfelt embraces. It zoomed in on you and Paige, still holding hands and exchanging a few final words. The commentators fell silent for a moment, letting the images speak for themselves.

As you walked away, you felt a sense of closure. It wasn't the perfect resolution, but it was a step in the right direction. You turned back to your teammates, who had been watching the exchange with quiet understanding.

Kate came up to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. "Better. Lighter, somehow."

Kate smiled and squeezed your shoulder. "Good. Now let's go celebrate!"

You laughed, the sound light and free. "Yeah, let's do that."

As you joined your teammates in the celebration, the noise and excitement of the gym washed over you. For the first time in a long while, you felt truly at peace. The future was still uncertain, but you knew you had the strength and support to face whatever came next. And that was enough.

──

"I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."

"Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."

ESPN, APRIL 2025 Reunited Once Again | Paige Bueckers and Y/N L/N Embrace as Teammates Once Again with the LA Sparks

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[lyneira]

♡ an accidental kiss?! that's so cliche 💋 ♡

-> reaching over to grab something behind them, your footing slips, causing you to fall forward and accidentally kiss them. How would they react?

lyneira's 1.2k milestone event

Confesses to you

Kaveh, Baizhu, Dainsleif, Cyno, Zhongli, Alhaitham

They'd seem less shocked than you'd thought they'd be. If you only knew how they felt for you, then this wouldn't be much of a surprise. They've been wanting to kiss you for the longest time after all. So, he'd decide to take this opportunity to finally let you know.

When you break away from his lips, trying to apologize, he'll quickly grab your hand before you can increase the distance between yourselves any further, silencing you and causing you to look at him directly in the eyes. The look he had in them was one you've never seen before: so sultry, so intense, and full of desire. And if you tried to look away, he'd whisper huskily, "Y/n...look at me", gently grabbing you by your chin to turn your face towards him. "I love you, you know that? ...and If you feel the same way, would you give me the pleasure of tasting your lips once more?"

Asks if you're okay

Kazuha, Tighnari, Ayato, Albedo

Their first reaction is to ask if you're okay. I think they'd be more concerned about your clumsiness during the moment, wanting to make sure that you didn't hurt yourself falling onto him like that. It would nearly seem as if the kiss didn't mean much to them, but oh honey, it meant a lot.

Afterwards, they'd keep glancing at your lips, recalling how they felt and tasted for the first time. Your lips were as sweet as he thought they'd be. He'd also wonder if you enjoyed the kiss too, because although the kiss was quick and on accident, he sure did.

They'll be as red as a tomato

Itto, Thoma, Gorou

You would surprise and fluster them enormously when your lips fall onto theirs that they'd go all red. Even when you break away from the kiss, they'd be like a deer in headlights, eyes widened and mouth still hanging open. They'd just be so overwhelmed by this sudden type of contact from you, the one whom they've been yearning for. It's not unwanted contact at all. Heck, he's wanted this so badly. Now that the moment finally came and had shocked him like this, he's just at a loss for words.

If you offer to give him a real, intentional kiss, then he’ll grow even redder, and will manage to whisper a small, "y-yes, please...I would like that", voice cracking a bit

Tells you to be more careful

Diluc, Xiao, Kaeya, Scaramouche

After you two part lips, he'd mutter a soft, "Hey, be careful", while covering his mouth with the back of his hand. You might think that he was annoyed by the way his brows were slightly furrowed, but that deep blush that was currently staining his cheeks said something different. Sure, he tells you to be careful, but if your clumsiness resulted in you kissing him, then really, he wouldn't mind if you were this clumsy around him more often.

Takes it lightly

Venti, Heizou, Childe

They'd honestly laugh it off and joke a bit about it like, "Wow, that just happened! ...You didn't do that on purpose did you? 🤨🤭". Yet, at the same time, he'd be "unintentionally" flirtatious about it as well, cupping your cheek and lightly sliding his thumb across your bottom lip, "You have soft lips, y/n. Very kissable", he'd grin. "What did you think of mine? If you don't remember, we could always try kissing again", he'd then wink at you

Bonus:

Would deepen the kiss

Alhaitham, Ayato, Dainsleif, Heizou, Childe

This category is the most similar to the first one.

These are the guys who would have the guts too hold you by the shoulders and deepen this kiss, savoring the taste of your lips. Most of them are the types who have gotten tired of holding in their feelings for so long that they take this chance to finally release that tension. So if you didn't know that he liked you before, then now you do. He'll enjoy seeing the flustered look on your face when you two part lips afterwards.

Buuuuut if you reciprocate his fervor? He'll be even more motivated to give it back tenfold and will completely devour your lips. He'd give you barely any time to breathe in between kisses that both of you will be panting by the end of your steamy makeout session.

a/n: I feel like some of the dialogue was kinda ooc here and there but I'm feeling all sappy and romantic today so imma just roll with it lol

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[loudclan-clangen]

The song “Beautiful Little Fool” for Fiercestripe? Because I am not getting over her death. Listened to it and she was the first character to pop into my head.

You’re so right!

YES! Please do, I would love to see it!

The boring answer is that I've been drawing cats for a VERY long time. I think since I was 8 they have been the majority of what I drew. The less boring answer is you know the movie Spirit? It changed my life. It had a bonus video where one of the artists taught you how to draw Spirit himself and it was the singular thing that inspired me to start drawing (more likely possessed me). I think I must have been about two the first time I saw it because I cannot remember a time before I had that video memorized. I would spend hours sitting in front of that video (which was only like 10-15 minutes long) with a stack of papers just fully focused on perfectly following his instructions. I still think about that video to this day. Every time I draw legs the voice of James Baxter echoes through my mind. I don't know if that translates to why my cats are so beefy, I own a cat who is quite chonky, so that might contruibute to it, but now you have a fun fact about me regardless!

All of the heirs are chosen based on birth order! Whoever is born first gets to be heir. I personally find that making strict rules about stuff makes playing the game a lot easier for me, I find it stressful to try to pick a "good heir" when I don't know what's going to happen later in the game so to limit that I just let it be completely out of my hands. 2. The game rolled for Songpaw to become a medicine cat! I would have changed it if he was an only kit or probably if I had known that Dashpaw was gonna die, cause I was really stressed about losing my run at that point, but I do my best to write a story that makes the game make sense rather than change what the game gives me when possible. I think it helps me to not have much of a story in mind while I play, just noting down events and thoughts and then going back and piecing it all together afterwards. That way nothing can "go wrong". 3. "Heir-hood" only applies to the leaders. There is no expectation that Cavepaw will become a healer. When Weed dies that position will be open until someone wishes to volunteer for it. 4. Honestly I don't really know. This might spoil a little bit, of tension, but I truly never had that happen. I was SUPER worried about it and did a lot to make sure it wouldn't, but after a couple of generations you get to a point where almost everyone is descended from a leader at somepoint. (And also everyone is second cousins with each other but you know what there are some problems that you just have to live with.) I image the clan would look for an omen and just pick a new leader based off of that and start the process all over again. In my experience worst comes to worst just make sure you have a very accurate family tree and trace it back a couple of generations.

Thank you so much! I don't play with any mods for Loudclan, I'm too scared to lose saves to less than stable code. My favorite mod currently is Kori's Awoogen though! I just like to look at the beautiful art mostly. I use mass extinction as population control, so I turn it on and off based on how many cats I have. Two full pages is the upper limit of what I'm willing to deal with, so once a third page opens I turn mass extinction on and after an extinction happens I turn it back off. (also if I dip below 1 full page I turn unknown parents on until I'm back to two pages again). I've found after a couple of generations you can mostly stop worrying about it because the bloodlines have spread so far there's always someone who's a 6th great great cousin or something.

The game generated him Dashpelt! I probably would have picked Dashfoot to stick with the generated them of a boring suffix but to make more sense overall.

[utterlyotterlyx]

Shine

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Petty games don't work well with Azriel, but you never learn, do you?

Warnings - angstttt, pettiness, feral Azriel, possessiveness, lil bit of fluff, smut, oral m!receiving, p in v, dirty talk, praise kink, shadow play, unhinged Az, basically just smut tbh

Tension and anger echoed about the study, it was so stifling that even Rhys had no option but to dart his gaze between Azriel and yourself as you both stood opposite one another, chest to chest, shouting at one another due to your sheer luck and dangerous stupidity.

It wasn't like you couldn't handle yourself, but you knew you had only returned from your latest mission in tact by the skin of your teeth and sweat on your brow. Azriel had known the severity of the situation when you had muted the bond, and that made him morph into a feral beast.

Cassian had received the initial onslaught of his anger, his cheek throbbing and bruising as he sat lax in one of the armchairs with a rag full of ice pressed to his skin.

Muting the bond was something he had forbidden you to do, no matter what, and you had gone and done it.

"I couldn't risk your tugging distracting me whilst we tried to get out of there," you shot, shouting up at his towering frame that cast a shadow over you.

Even his shadows had retreated behind him, occasionally begging their master to stop shouting at you, that their pretty love was alive and well, they begged him to hold her and love her, but he was too angry to even think of it.

How could you be so foolish? Azriel had told you not to make all of the mistakes that you had, and you hadn't listened to him, not for a mere moment. It was in that moment that he loathed your cockiness and wit.

Clenching his fists, Azriel's nostrils flared, you stood toe to toe with him, an act that not many lived to talk of afterward, new-born fire burned in your eyes, "You're so reckless, y/n. As long as I have a say in it, you won't see another mission until you learn your lesson."

Stoic. Final.

Rhys sucked in a breath at your face, a usually soft thing that had contorted into blind, psychotic serenity, even the High Lord shrank into his seat whilst Azriel slowly realised the gravity of his words, "Am I bad dog, Az? Are you going to rub my nose in my piss and tell me how awful I am?"

Darkness tugged at him, forcing him back a step, but your eyes didn't falter, didn't move from his face for a singular moment. It was too late to take it back, the underlying tone that told he that he was attempting to tell you what to do, so he stood firm. "You both could have died today because of your stupidity. Rhys would be mindless if he allowed you to step foot on another mission."

There was a cut in your brow that was leaking blood, arrows tipped with faebane were shot at you during your escape, one of which had grazed your brow. Dirt brushed against your cheeks, twigs were entwined in your hair, possibly from the fall that caused your scuffed knees; you had walked into the house limping, smirking to Cassian at the near death experience, and that made his anger roar even more.

The gaze of a thousand blades cut into Rhys and he winced, lifting his eyes from the desk to you. He couldn't deny how reckless your actions had been, you could have died, you could have left Azriel without a mate, both of them without you and Cassian.

Rhys' lips curled into a tight snarl, partly due to the anger of being pulled into one of your fights which left the city trembling, "This conversation can wait," he rose from the desk, hands flat and steady on the tabletop, "We leave for Autumn in two hours," he looked to you, "You should go and make yourself look more presentable. But as for you going on another mission, I do believe that you should take a step back for awhile, until you can understand how your actions impact the lives of your comrades."

You went to bark a reply, your shoulders rising and falling in rapid succession. Rhys simply held his hand up and you growled at the action, the predator inside of you not liking being silenced one bit before you turned on your heels and flung the door open so hard that one of the hinges ripped from the wall, not before glaring at Azriel like death was imminent on him however.

"Thank you for that, Az," Rhys sighed and fell back into his seat, making a mental note to get the door fixed and reinforced.

You were by far the most fierce member of the Inner Circle, war was your middle name, you relished in your brutality, and it had astounded them all time and time again just how vicious you could be. One winter solstice, many many years ago, Amren went as far as to gift you with a pair of ornate talons like they were pieces of jewellery, the bloodthirsty animal inside of you grinned at them, and you hadn't gone into any battle without them since.

Azriel was the only person who wasn't scared of you, so it made sense that you had discovered that you were mate. It had taken you a long while to accept the bond, you knew that you were a difficult thing to handle, but he seemed up to the challenge, and he slowly broke down every defence you had thrown up around your heart.

Throwing his head back and running his hand over his face, Azriel cocked his head toward Cassian who sat there wearing a shit-eating grin that he wished to wipe from the face of the earth, "You'll be paying for that later."

It wasn't exactly a lie. Each time Azriel stepped one toe over the line you had drawn, that being attempting to control you or hinder your movements, you would react in the pettiest of ways. Sometimes you would wear the skimpiest thing in your closet and walk about the River House in it to tease him, swimming in the dark eyes of Cassian or sultry words of Mor, and you'd continue to wear it until he would forcefully drag you into your shared rooms and fall to his knees before you, begging for a taste. Other times, you'd go as far as to paint the town red with Nesta and Mor, and he would find you grinding against another male in Rita's, drunk off your ass, and the male would freeze and simper away once he realised whose eyes had stalked him from across the room.

Every attempt to rile up your mate had worked, you had always pulled an apology from his lips the moment he was done fucking you senseless. Azriel hated your little games, he made it clear often, but he always played them.

From the fury in your eyes, Azriel knew that you'd be taking your pettiness to a whole new level that evening.

Using the excuse of your cut up brow, you had managed to buy yourself an extra hour of alone time whilst the rest of your family departed for the Autumn Court.

It was Eris' birthday, and the new High Lord had invited you all as a notion to strengthen the newfound alliance between the courts, and of course, Rhys had agreed. Pity for Azriel that Eris had always had a wandering eye for you, and you were certainly going to use that fact to your advantage.

Gold clung to you like a second skin, a tight and sheer strapless corset pulled against your chest, adorned in a design of vines and dainty flowers, the skirt was long and trailed behind your steps and it was just sultry enough that it exposed both of your legs, right up to the thigh, and one wrong move would expose your cunt for all to see, the only saving grace being the golden fabric that just brushed below it.

Nesta had chuckled low at the look in your eye as she had styled your hair into loose curls. No accessories were needed, the dress was a statement on its own. You had been saving it for yours and Azriel's anniversary which was three days away, but such vicious actions had led you to remove the custom made garment from its casing and wear it for the High Lord of Autumn instead.

Adjusting the straps of you golden heels, you floated through the house like a summer wind and winnowed right onto the front lawn of the Forest House, a feline smirk on your lips as you felt the bond sing at your presence. Music and laughter poured from the open windows and doors, fire lanterns illuminated the path, and the guards at the doors didn't even ask for your name as they opened them with their mouths slightly agape.

Eris was sat upon the dais, looking rather bored, and then his eyes found you and he sat upright in his seat. The act made the room turn to you, to the dress glowing in the candlelight, to your exposed skin poking from the sheer material that stuck to you.

Murmurs from the crowd were dim against the music playing from the band in the corner, and you felt all eyes on you, even the ones that were seething. Once you had sauntered to the foot of the dais, you flickered your gaze up through your long lashes and curtseyed, low, low enough for Eris to catch a glimpse at the delicious cleavage at the heart of the bodice.

From the corner of your eye you saw Cassian's mouth move, to which Azriel's head snapped in his direction in warning before it moved back to you. A smirk befell your lips and you rose, "I apologise for the lateness, My Lord," your words were seductive and you skin glittered in the light due to the shimmering oil you had placed on your hands and arms, on the calves that Azriel loved to trail kisses upward.

"Perfection takes time," Eris drawled, his whisky amber eyes fixated on you, you were by far the most radiant thing he had ever seen, and the most vicious, it made his senses sing, "I appreciate the time you spent readying yourself for me."

With a smirk, you walked from the foot of the dais, in the opposite direction of your family, and toward a table adorned with various flutes of sparkling wine, plucking one from the surface and drinking the sweet liquid as the room resumed its previous activities.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Feigning innocence, you peered up at him, doing your best not to grin at the redness of his face. Azriel looked oh so handsome, dressed in all black, the top two buttons of his silk shirt undone to give you a glimpse of his tattoos, "I'm drinking my sparkling wine."

"Y/N." Azriel's voice was low and demanding, it made your hairs stand on end and a sinful shudder crawl down your spine.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Sorry, Azzie," you suck out your bottom lip and turned around, facing the crowd who were stealing the odd glance in your direction.

Azriel moved behind you, his breath hot on the curve where your neck and shoulder connected, "I've never seen this dress," his fingers brushed against the chain-like material.

The look on his face was not one you wanted to miss when the words fell from your mouth, so you craned your head, turning your beautiful face over your shoulder, "I had it made for our anniversary," his eyes darkened, "Thought why it should be wasted in Velaris when it would be so appreciated here."

Light glittered over your face, making the shimmering powder on your cheekbones glow.

Azriel's nostrils flared and his fingers gripped your hip, no doubt leaving bruises swelling on your skin, "Our anniversary."

An innocent hum vibrated against your lips, "Yes. Seventy-four years this week. We were going to make it special. Shame."

Then you turned away from him as a familiar presence entered your consciousness. Eris stood before you, eyes low and darkened with desire, a sight that Azriel lowly growled at, "May I?" Eris offered his hand as the floor reset, and you didn't hesitate to take it, ripping yourself from Azriel's grasp and allowing Eris to lead you onto the dancefloor.

No one else dared to join you.

Surely, where fire met fury, people would burn.

Eris' hand stayed locked in yours whilst his other rested low on your hip, barely grazing the bare skin at your thigh, his lips brushed the shell of your ear as the music started, "Don't let anyone take away your shine."

The High Lord whisked you into a waltz, his steps perfectly matching and harmonising with your own, looking deep into your eyes the whole time. You had to admit it, Eris was beautiful, not as beautiful as Azriel, but still. For a moment, your forgot about the world as you waltzed in his arms, his fire colliding with the flame burning within you, and the entire room held a breath and could only watch the magnificence of it whilst wishing it was them.

The music slowed as did your steps, and one more twirl later, Eris bowed to you, your hand still in his, and kissed the marriage band on your ring finger, smirking against it slowly before rising and taking another step toward you, "I like your games, y/n," your heart began to race, "Do let me know if you'd like your fantasies fulfilled," his finger twirled your hair around it and he hummed in approval.

Then, Eris moved, taking your arm and leading you back to where he had taken you from, which was away from Azriel as he stood between Feyre and Rhys on the other side of the room, eyes wide and shadows dancing.

It should have been menacing, the look on his face, the crooked, unhinged grin and dark eyes that peered at you. All it did was make your cunt burn with need.

Perhaps you had pushed him too far.

For another hour, Azriel stalked you from the opposite side of the room, he was the predator toying with its prey, and he fucking knew it. The constant intensity of his gaze filled you with excitement and dread, until it had gotten too much altogether.

The halls of the Forest House held a chill, and your heels against the floor echoed about the vast halls and tunnels. You weren't sure how far you had walked, up a few staircases and down so many hallways that you were sure you had gotten lost.

That intensity still lingered.

Exhaling shakily, you stopped your walking and you spoke, "I know you're here," you turned on your heels as another pair of steps prowled down the candlelit hallway.

There he was, hair messy from raking his hands through it too much, eyes zoning in on you, his shadows poking up from his shoulders at the feeling of having you so close.

"As observant as ever," he purred, taking another step, and then another, "Did you really think you could wear that, a beautiful gift for our anniversary, to remember all the time that we have spent loving and fucking one another, for another male. Our enemy. And think you'd get away with it?" Another step, and your breath became caught in your throat, another step, and he was on you, his breath fanning over your face.

Backing into the wall, your heart lurched at the lethal speckles in his eyes, "Perhaps you should stop trying to take away my shine," you tried to speak as calmly as possible, but he saw right through it, and Azriel grinned.

Raising his hands, he caged you between them, then one of them moved to graze against your cheek, then the line of your collarbone, then down your arm and hip, until they lingered where your dress and thigh met, "Shine all you want, my mate, I won't stop you," his fingers dipped under the hem of the skirt, caressing your thigh, "But what I will not tolerate, is you wearing a thing meant for solely my eyes alone before others, and bathe in the sinful thoughts of them."

He was beyond pissed. It was hard to see anything but the Spymaster of the Night Court in those eyes.

Gulping hard, you had no choice but to shrink a little, like a bunny caught in the jaws of a wolf, from the lethal promise in his eyes, "I wanted, for once, to do what I wanted to do."

Azriel tilted his head and leaned down, a feathers touch away from your lips, "And what do you want now?" His voice was rough and low, a hush above a whisper, his fingers continued to rub soft circles into the skin beneath that golden hem.

"I want..." you looked into his eyes, into the eyes that engulfed every piece of you, "I want..." your back slid down the wall an inch or so just to put some space between you.

"I need your words, Angel," he cooed as his other hand moved from the wall to run down the side of your face and neck.

"I want you," the submissive tone in your voice made him melt, he grasped your wrist and pulled you down the hall, wind sifting through your hair at the speed of his steps, until he opened a door and pushed you inside.

The room was humming with the last of a simmering fire, the last licks of flame flickering across the room. Hands roamed your waist before he murmured, "I think I'd like you to keep it on."

Spice and cinnamon faintly clung to the air, mulled wide and ash. Then it dawned you, you were in Eris' room, you were about to be used in Eris' own bed. A sickly tempting realisation.

Azriel rounded your figure and smirked, he was enjoying toying with you, if you wanted to play, then he'd play.

The Shadowsinger moved across the room, sitting on a chair you knew Eris would have spent his nights reading in, and sat down, legs spread and slouched into the cushion. Tapping his foot against the wood in waiting, you stood there, you weren't sure for what, but your chest panted.

"Well? Come to me, Angel," he purred, smirking at you, you moved to take a single step but he tutted, "On your knees."

Fire spread through your entire body and you sank to the ground, dancing your palms along the wood as he watched on with that predatory glare, "You look so good crawling for me," his praise made your core pulse, and you knew that you were already glistening for him.

Kneeling before him, in the middle of his open legs, you felt the world shift, and you knew he was about to devour you. Azriel motioned to the best of his trousers and commanded, "Take them off," your fingers reached for the belt, unbuckling the clasp before untethering the buttons to his satin briefs and pulling them down to see his cock already hard and throbbing for you, your fingers delicately curled around him and he groaned at your touch, "With your mouth, Angel."

Azriel shifted his position, unbuttoning his shirt to expose his chest, to make himself more accessible for you.

Taking him between your lips, you swirled your tongue around the head, flickering the tip of you tongue over him. Deeper he went, and you hallowed your cheeks as you bobbed your head, Azriel's head was thrown back, his hand curled in your hair as he guided your movements, "You're so perfect, aren't you? Look at how pretty you look," a soft whine moved through you and you rubbed your thighs together, begging to relieve some of that pressure building between your legs.

Azriel continued to guide your head, meeting every movement to the lazy thrusts of his lips, both of his hands were in your hair now, he moaned, a breathless sonnet that made you moan, making your lips vibrate around his cock.

Within a moment, Azriel had removed himself from your mouth and scooped you up from the floor, not breaking his stare as your thighs pressed around his waist and he moved to the bed, "Do you know whose room this is?" Azriel grinned against you neck, he moved back, his face hovering before your own as his fingers moved between your folds, you jolted at the contact, "It's Eris'."

So he did know.

Azriel pressed his lips to yours and you gasped, his finger entering you, and he took the opportunity to nip your bottom lip between his teeth, "He thinks he can touch you like that, think of you like this?"

He was going to fuck your scents into the foundations of the castle, so that Eris would never to able to escape it, escape the untouchable state of your mating bond.

His lips were on you again, and he shifted his position, resting between your legs as his fingers continued to draw soft moans from your lips. Azriel pulled away, taking his time in removing the satin shirt from his body, unlacing the cuffs and drawing the garment over his shoulders, his wings flexed behind him the entire time to make you remember who exactly your mate was.

Azriel positioned himself and pushed into you, capturing your lips on his to silence your soft groan whilst he stretched you, until he was fully hilted inside of you. Then he began moving, rolling his hips back and forth, mumbling against your lips, "You're mine. All mine."

The skin on your neck was clouded in marks from his mouth, sucking and biting every part of you he could see as he rocked into you, slow and deep, trying to stay in control.

Whimpering beneath him, you took his face in your hands and looked into his eyes; his hair fell over your face and you brushed it away, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb, "Let go."

It was all he needed.

Azriel pulled out of you, flipping you onto your front, and positioning you so that your back was arching in a perfect crescent moon, he wasted no time in pushing into you again, smirking against the walls that were already quivering around him.

This time, he wasn't gentle.

Your mate fucked you relentlessly, you were blubbering beneath him, feeling your walls spasm as he hit that perfect spot inside of you, moaning so loud that you were surprised no one had come in to investigate who exactly was getting fucked in the High Lords bedroom.

"Az, please, I'm going to-"

A familiar flutter passed over your clit, coiling around it and you clawed yourself right through Eris' feather pillows at the touch. The others flowed through your hair and down your sides, licking and caressing your skin.

Crying out, that white light blinded your senses as you came all over Azriel's cock that was slamming into you whilst his shadows took you to a whole other world entirely.

"That's my girl," his fingers trailed down the curve of you spine, furling in your hair and pulling you up so that your spine met his chest, burying his head into the nape of your neck, "Such a pretty dress, hm?"

Azriel didn't slow down, thrusting up into you, his fist curled in your hair and tugging on it to give him access to your neck and earlobes, "Mother above," you muttered through breaths, clutching onto the arm he had wrapped around your waist.

Smirking against your skin, Azriel coaxed another orgasm from your body, commanding his best shadows to stay focused on that bundle of nerves that craved attention, "Eris won't ever be able to escape this, us."

"Azriel," the possessive primal instinct had consumed him, the need to mark what was his, right in the heart of his enemies den, "Please."

"Tell me what you want, Angel."

"I want you. Please."

"How could I deny you when you're being so good?"

This time, Azriel fingers moved over your clit, sending electric white heat through your body, raw and euphoric, and he slammed into you, moving with unwavering pace until you quivered around him tighter than you ever had before and he felt himself slip.

His movements had you begging as he fucked himself deeper inside of you, through his high that had him moaning your name. Then his movements slowed to a stop, and you stayed sat on his still throbbing cock, "I hope that Eris enjoys your message."

Chuckling, he pressed his lips to your neck, allowing his hands to float down the bodice of the dress that had got you to where you were, nestled on your mates cock in the room of his enemy, "I'm sure he will," his fingers drifted to your stomach, halting there with a smile, "We may have done it."

Looking down, your hands moved to the same position, slithering beneath his, "Do you think so?"

Azriel hummed against your skin, "I do," It was no secret that you and Azriel had been trying for a child for years, you knew it wasn't ever going to be instant, but you had hoped for at least two perfect glimmers of your love for one another in the entire seventy-four years you had spent together.

"I hope so."

"Me too, Angel. Me too."

Smirking, you pulled away and turned to face your beautiful mate who was still kneeling atop the bedspread, "Are we going to talk about that little scene in the hallway, and on that chair?"

Azriel mirrored your smirk, "What can I say?" he moved to you, connecting his lips to yours, his other half, his everything, Azriel looked to your swollen full lips, to your hair, to your eyes that were glowing in the dying light, he shrugged, "It's the dress."

Author's Note

👀

[nagaytoe]

Periculum

Solivan Brugmansia X Reader

TW: implied drugging, manipulation

Word count: 1.4k

I can't be the only one wondering how on earth Sol is gonna explain himself on day 3 after the 8-point-required ending, that's why i decided what i think might happen!

BY THE WAY: i take request, so if anyone is interested, feel free to ask me :3

SPOILERS FOR TKATB DAY 1+2 REVAMPED

Periculum

(Noun) [Latin] Danger

Warm rays of sunlight graze your face as you slowly wake up, laying on your side.

What time is it? Why didn't your alarm go off?

You try to reach over to your bedside table but notice arms wrapped around your waist and someone spooning you, their chest pressed to your back snugly enough that you can faintly feel their heartbeat.

What the hell?

You feel panic rising up, an uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. The arms only tighten around you as soon as you try to break free from the grasp you currently find yourself in. Looking over your shoulder, you see none other than Sol, causing the feeling of panic to subside but one of confusion to settle in.

You sure as hell weren't cuddling yesterday evening. Wait, what happened yesterday evening anyways? You can't seem to recall, but you're pretty sure that you didn't go to bed with Sol.

In an attempt to wake him, you call out his name, but to no avail. You shake his arms that are still snaked around you, calling out to him yet again.

Sol's eyes flutter open and he looks at you with an adorning look in his eyes and a smile gracing his handsome face.

“Hey… good morning, [____]”

“Good…morning?” You ponder for a moment, before speaking up again.

“Sol, i really think we should get going, we still have classes today-”

His grip tightens at your inquiry, “Don't worry about it. You're probably still shaken up from what happened back at the arcade, right? Perhaps we should skip, how does that sound?”

He seems to snuggle even closer, signalizing that he would most likely not accept any answer other than accepting his request.

“Sol..” you sigh, aware that it wasn't a good idea. You need your studies, how else are you going to help your father? Even though, Sol might be right about one thing: You really are exhausted, but are yesterday's events at the arcade really the cause for that?

“We already skipped the last period yesterday, we can't skip again, especially not a whole day.”

You pry on his arms again and Sol eventually lets you go, although reluctantly. Sitting up and turning to face him, you decide to ask him one of the first questions that came to your mind after waking up, despite feeling a little uneasy about it.

“Hey… uhm, what happened yesterday evening?”

Sol raises his brow, looking up at you.

“You don't remember?”

His confused, almost disappointed, tone only serves to make you feel even queasier.

"No…? I mean, I remember that we were eating dinner but everything after that is… gone? I just can't seem to recall what we did afterwards…” You grow flustered. What the hell transpired between you two that apparently caused Sol and you to cuddle but you just can't seem to remember?

“You fell asleep.” Sol explains, “In the middle of the conversation at that. I was really worried about you, y'know? It was probably the exhaustion after what happened at the arcade finally settling in, which is understandable but also precisely the reason why I would like for you to rest a little.”

What? Never before have you fallen asleep just like that…but then again, you have never been attacked like that either…

Still, despite his comforting, caring tone you can't seem to shake off the feeling that something is wrong.

Before you could respond Sol continued, “I carried you to bed, I'd say that's a whole lot more comfortable than sleeping on a chair.” He chuckles, trying to ease the tension, since it doesn't slip past him how on edge you seem right about now.

“That… that was really nice but…it doesn't really explain why… um, you're sleeping next to me..” you can't help but mumble that last part, too flustered, almost embarrassed, by the predicament you currently find yourself in. You weren't the type to cuddle with just anyone, especially not with people you have known since a few days. The thought makes you uncomfortable, it's just not like you at all.

Sol chuckles a little, looking at you in awe with a blush of his own.

Oh how much he would like to tell you what happened, what he did, what he would do for you. How he knows that the two of you belong together, that you're his, even though you are yet to realize that.

“You were squirming and mumbling in your sleep the entire time, I thought you had a nightmare and quite frankly, I didn't want to leave you all alone after what transpired earlier on. You understand, don't you? I apologize if this made you uncomfortable, but if the roles were reversed, would you have left me alone, shaking like a leaf?”

No, you wouldn't have left him. Would you have cuddled him? You are not sure. Perhaps he only meant to stay with you for a few moments but accidentally fell asleep. That must be it, right?

You were too quiet for too long for Sol's liking. Did you hate him now? You can't hate him, you could never hate him, could you? The two of you were Soulmates, there is no way one could hate the other, is there?

“...[____]?”

You snap out of your thoughts, your gaze turning back to meet his vermillion eyes.

“Sorry, I just-” you bury your face in your hands, “You only meant well, didn't you? I probably caused you some trouble by having you feel obligated to stay here with me, that wasn't my intention. You need your studies as well and shouldn't miss them just for my sake.”

You really are horrible. How could you think that Sol potentially meant any harm? How could you feel so uneasy? How can you still feel a little queasy, despite him explaining what happened?

Is it because deep down you know that he is not telling you the entire truth?

“[____], you will never be a burden to me, please remember that. I will gladly miss my studies if it means I can be by your side.” Sol smiles gently and takes hold of your wrists, pulling them back and revealing your face to him.

“You really should rest, though. I'll be here, right by your side… If you let me.”

He wraps his bigger hands around yours. They're warm and still bruised from yesterday.

Sol did so much for you. He fought off 4 guys just to make sure they can't harm you and now he offers to miss his classes for your sake. He is sweet, sickly sweet, he doesn't seem to care about others as much as he cares about you. How can a single person grow on you this much in the span of two days?

It's surely because you are made for each other, two halves of a whole who finally found each other.

You nod slowly, leaning towards him to hug him tightly. A hug is the least you can give him after everything he has already done for you. Sol wraps his big strong arms around you, stroking the back of your head in a comforting manner.

Luckily, you can't see the wicked smile on Sol's face. He has you right where he wants you. With time you will grow more and more reliant on him, but worry not, for he will take care of you, he always will.

“Are you still tired?” You nod in response, properly laying down while still hugging him. “Sleep some more then. I'll be here when you wake up.”

It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep in his embrace, not caring about your prior discomfort caused by the very same action. Sol feels happy, truly happy, ecstatic even. You've known him for two days and yet you're almost putty in his hands, believing whatever he says, though, to be fair, why wouldn't you? He has no reason to lie to you, now does he? He only wants what's best for the two of you, after all.

Perhaps you are too trusting, but Sol will make sure to protect you from everyone who may take advantage of that.

…Though perhaps the only one you need to be protected from is Sol himself.

[damiansgoodgirll]

hey queen, how are you?

can i request something with damian where it’s not really smut but suggestive where he constantly teases reader and she gets all shy please?

i’m better thank you!

damian priest x reader

‼️not smut but very very VERY VERY suggestive

on my knees for you

everyone noticed the sexual tension between you and damian. well, everyone except you. you just thought he was being funny and playful even in his words always left butterflies in your stomach.

it started with him calling you beautiful or, as you preferred, hermosa.

he knew that spanish was making you going crazy and he loved seeing you all red and embarrassed.

everytime there was an event, you would travel together. he would drive if the show was only a few cities away from your town. and car rides with him was something you always loved. he always let you pick the music, he never bothered you if you wanted to sleep and if you were feeling chatting he would always talk to you.

everything seemed so friendly except his body language was betraying him.

the way his hand would lay on your thigh. or the way he would move your hair away from your face if you were sleeping.

he was attracted to you and if he could he would bend you over his car anytime you were together. he knew he had to control this side of him because he didn’t want to lose you.

but as the days and weeks passed, the compliments became a little bit stronger.

from “that dress looks good on you” to “that dress makes me wanna tear it apart and have you naked underneath my body”. from “i can help you with some wrestling moves” to “i can show you some wrestling moves in my bed”.

damian knew he was testing the water but he loved every single moment of it.

and he knew the game was about to began when he saw you entering the gym.

it was late at night and the gym was practically empty except for a few locals.

“hey…good evening or more like, good night” you waved at him when you saw him.

“it would be a good night if you come home with me” he teased and that simple sentence made you weak in the knees.

“dam…”

“what? i could show you some moves that you don’t see me doing here at the gym” he moved closer to you so now you were face to face. he loved teasing you and you knew it.

“oh shut up” you playfully hit him “let’s train cause we have an important match to do”

“we could do that in my bed…”

“damian!” you almost shouted “get your ass here and help me with those weights”

he moved quickly and helped you with the different weights while he was fixing his shoes. he was on his knees with you standing in front of him “i would get on my knees for you every single day you know…” he whispered looking directly into your eyes.

you felt hot.

you were hot.

“dams…get up”

“no seriously…the view down here is spectacular…i wonder how would you look like this but riding my face…” he got closer to you body. you were lucky the only people in the gym were in a different room, leaving you and damian alone.

“damian…would you help me train or not?”

“would you ride my face afterwards?” he asked shamelessly.

“maybe…” you teased back, taking him by surprise he wasn’t used to this side of you.

“and would you let me bend you over on my kitchen table?” he said slowly coming back face to face with you “and would you let me wrap my hands around your throat?” he held eye contact, knowing that you would have looked away “and would you let me make you cum all night long?” he was taken aback when you held eye contact back “and would you let make you mine?”

you were feeling all shaky but you couldn’t show it. you were completely wet as damian was completely hard and you knew you wouldn’t be able to train now.

“damian…what has gotten into you?” you whispered.

“you have no idea for how long i’ve been wanting to see this pretty pussy…” he slowly wrapped his hands around your waist. it looked like he was giving you a simple hug but you were feeling his dick pressed between your thighs “i want to taste you and make you cum on my lips and then on my fingers and then on my cock…i wanna see you on all fours for me, your ass up in the air while you’re taking me…i wanna leave your body covered in bites and marks…i wanna let everybody know that you are mine…and i wanna see you choke on my dick while i’m praising you for being a good girl…i wanna see you crying from pleasure and being so cockdrunk that you can’t even think straight…i want you to be a mess for me…and then i wanna take care of you, hold you, make you feel safe and protected, clean you up and shower you with love because that’s what you deserve…and i’m willing to do that if you let me” he whispered into your ear while you were trying your best to not whimper anytime he said something horny.

“fuck…what are you waiting for?” you whispered back and that was enough for him to drag you out of the gym and back to his place.

he was ready to have you at his mercy and you couldn’t wait for it to happen.

[consciouscarrot]

strange pains | remus lupin

remus lupin x fem!reader

cw; abuse of power (doctor x patient), (much less) innocence kink, dub/con, vaginal fingering, p in v, oral (r!receiving), kisses (eek), blasphemy and god stuff, tiny tiny bit sad in places (poor reader is so sweet), rem is possessive (<3), implied daddy kink at the end, one use of y/n

notes; pt two of this fic for my lovely anon <3 thank you so very much for your patience

main m.list

your second appointment with dr lupin came quickly, having spent the past two days obsessively thinking about your doctor and the way he made you feel.

you still half considered confessing to your priest, feeling sinful for the way you clearly took advantage of the man who was only trying to help you, coming undone from his touch in a way that felt too good to be proper. instead of talking to your priest, something that would most likely end up in you being disowned and kicked out of the church, you decided to apologise when you next saw dr lupin. that way, you could atone and hopefully earn his forgiveness.

just before 6pm, you walked into the waiting room, repeating the words you’d planned to say in your head. however, at the sight of dr lupin stood at the receptionist’s desk, eyes locked on you as he slowly smiled, causing you to stumble slightly and your mind to go completely blank, so much for apologising.

“careful, sweetheart. i need you in one piece,” strong arms wrapped around you, lingering as to make sure you weren’t going to fall again.

you flushed, his head ducking down to meet your eyes when you let you head fall forwards. you whined quietly, too mortified to speak, he rubbed at your lower back kindly, guiding you down the hallway to his office.

“go straight to the bed, honey. all your clothes off and put on the gown like last time, okay?”

you nodded meekly, turning away so you were unable to see the way remus’ eyes drifted over your bare form, having to adjust himself in his trousers at the way you delicately undressed and folded your clothes tidily on the chair.

he ‘turned around’ when you said he could, snapping on his gloves before easing your feet into the stirrups and locking them in, standing between your naked legs.

“how have you been the last couple of days? any changes at all?”

you can barely think at the way his hands massaged at your legs, drifting up from your ankle towards your knee, slowly making his way up. you shifted your hips in a pathetic attempt to ease the tension, the ache deep in your belly starting up again.

“it was better when i left you, but it started up again just before bed that night, and it’s been worse ever since,” your cheeks flushed as memories flickered in your head of your last appointment, silently praying that he’d use that lovely tool attached to him again.

“oh dear, maybe i should start doing house calls with you. it sounds to me like you need some more regular attention, i’ll have a talk with your parents about it afterwards, sound good?”

his hands were now so close to your heat that you couldn’t focus, heat radiating from your body, nails digging into the bed as his fingertips grazed the edge of your cunt, teasing touches prompting you to buck your hips up.

“okay-,” you gasp sharply, his fingers finally making contact as he spreads open your pussy lips, gloves already thoroughly coated in your pooling arousal.

“you poor thing, it looks really swollen and painful right now. are you ready to start, dove? it’ll be just like last time.”

he grins at your eager nod, gliding the tip of his finger along your slit, just barely brushing over your sensitive pearl. you bit your lip, little teeth indents forming on the tender skin as you tried to hold in your noises, chest heaving beneath your dainty little cross necklace, the symbol of your devotion to something supposedly pure whilst doing something so sinful.

he gently pinched at the nub, chuckling when you flinched, head rolling back into the bed with a whine, “use your words.”

“yes please, i’m ready doctor lupin,”

“good girl,” remus hummed, pressing painfully slowly against your sopping hole, teasing touches making tears pool in your waterline, threatening to spill over. breathy moans escaped your pouting lips, hard nipples poking through the thin fabric of the medical gown. the material had slipped down your shoulders with all your wriggling, so close to exposing the soft flesh of your tits. he longed to tug it down properly, or to even rip it off fully, to make you reveal yourself to him, to lay there beneath him, vulnerable for only him.

he finally pushed inside, glistening slick coating your skin as his fingers slipped through, pumping unhurriedly in and out, sliding against that sweet spot that made you keen beneath him, back arched and eyes scrunched shut so tight that colours exploded behind your lids, such sweet moans escaping from chewed lips in the most beautiful song.

he couldn’t take his eyes off of you even if he tried, mesmerised by your movements and your mouth, almost desperate to see more of you, to make you his fully. he sped up his fingers, groaning loudly when the gown finally fell down enough to expose you to him. he had to fight to keep himself from cumming just from the sight of you. pebbled nipples arched up as the delicate flesh bounced with his motions.

you cried out, strings of mewls so pretty. he’d never heard anything as saccharine as you. you were already nearing your first orgasm of the night, thighs trembling as they tried to close themselves around him, restraints on your ankles the only thing holding you back. you writhed, hands clasping for anything to clutch onto, trying to push him away even though you needed him to keep going. it felt so good you thought you could die. you panted heavily, whining constantly until you went silent, mouth gaping as your eyes rolled back, shaking violently as you fell over the edge.

his digits pushed you through, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible, before easing his fingers out with a lewd pop, blue gloves soaked with your creamy cum. you whined at the loss, feeling so empty and desperate for more, for him.

head cloudy with lingering pleasure, you opened you eyes, meeting his gaze as you tried your best to silently beg him to continue, body heavy with exhaustion despite the need already building back up deep inside of you. thankfully for your sanity, he took pity on you, smiling down at you as he removed his gloves, tossing them in the nearby bin before easing you to sit up.

he held your body close to his, and only then did you realise that your gown had slipped down, gasping at the feel of your ripples grazing against his shirt. you flushed, clinging to him as you tried to cover yourself up.

“hey, no, no- it’s okay, you can keep it down, even take it off, if you’d like. there’s things we can do to your breasts, and i think it would help your treatment a lot, if you’re up to it.”

he half expected you to say no, to find it far too inappropriate, already regretting taking the gamble when he’d lucked out with you; a patient so pretty and so innocent he could do whatever he wanted, and you enjoyed it.

“okay, i’ve just never- um,” you buried your face in his chest, so embarrassed and aroused. you found it strange that you wanted him to see you, you wanted to feel his eyes on your bare body. you wandered if this was a side effect of your illness, or something more.

remus nearly creamed his pants at that, already knowing it but hearing you say it out loud was- fuck. he muffled his involuntary groan into your hair, breathing in the ambrosial scent of your shampoo. “no one’s ever seen you like that?” he grinned when you nodded into his shirt, “oh poppet, that’s okay. more than okay, i’d be delighted to be the first.”

he eased your head away from him, cupping your jaw to tilt your head back, his hands engulfing your smaller face. your cheeks were rosy and skin was shining with the light sweat, lip snug between your teeth as you bit down, doe eyes looking up at him so innocently as your hands slid down from his chest to just above his belt, blissfully unaware of how much you were affecting him.

he spent a few moments just watching you, caressing your skin as he tried to make you more comfortable, eyes never leaving yours. he knew that he’d never cope without you, that there could never be anyone else after meeting you. he wasn’t sure how he could go about it, how to make things happen organically without alerting your parents to his malpractice, but he’d find out a way. there was no way he’d ever let you go.

“would you like me to help you undress?”

he raised a brow at your nod, praising you when you quickly corrected yourself and nervously spoke your consent. his fingers trailed up your arms, along and over your shoulders before meeting on your back, making your shiver as he untied the strings, careful not to catch any of your hair in the knots. the material slowly slid down your arms, and you pushed off the bed slightly as he pulled it from underneath you, letting it fall to the floor.

remus trailed his eyes over your form, taking in your even curve and dimple and imperfection. you sucked in a sharp breath when he made contact with your bare skin, hands tracing and squeezing, taking in every little detail. you arched into him when he cupped at your tits, feeling your cunt pulse at the way his palm covered you, thumb rubbing at your cross briefly before he flicked your nipple.

“my god, you’re breathtaking,”

you blanched slightly at the blasphemy, not used to people talking about god like that, and certainly not from seeing you naked. you guessed that meant you were very pretty,

“thank you, sir,”

his cock twitched at that, and he longed to fill you with his seed again, but he wanted to taste you more. he’d known that it was too soon last time, but feeling you now, he couldn’t resist. he needed to feel you on his tongue as your naked body shook for him, and only ever him.

“are you ready for the next part, sweet dove?”

“yes sir, please it’s starting to hurt again,”

laying you back down, he let you watch him unbuckle his belt, teasing down the zipper, making you wait for what you knew was coming next. you whimpered at the sight of his hard cock, eyes widening at your first proper look at the ‘medical tool’. you were shocked to find it skin coloured, pale flesh with a couple of protruding veins running up the side to the tip, which was an angry red, leaking some sort of clear fluid, dripping down his cock.

if you’d been in your right mind, you would’ve questioned it, suspicion souring the experience as you would’ve started to think that this wasn’t a normal treatment. however, with one orgasm already mollifying the rational anxious part of your mind, you only cared about getting the tool inside of you and soothing this horrendous ache.

you couldn’t take your eyes off of it as he palmed your cunt, coating his hand in slick before using it to lube himself up, reading himself and tappping the tip against your soaked slit, remus’ focus shifting to your face to make sure you were ready.

you both groaned when he finally began to sink into you, heavy cock forcing your silky walls to accommodate him, steadily pushing in until your hips met, stretching you open. it somehow felt bigger than last time, maybe from the way he stood still for a minute, head tipped back as he breathed slowly, barely able to cope with the way you squeezed him so tight.

you watched him through blurred eyes, tears clouding your vision at the desperation that tore at you, thighs trembling around his body as you tried your best to patiently wait for more. you were a good girl, you swear. just needed to prove it and you’d get what you wanted, had to show him.

only when you let out a tiny sob did he look back down at you, brows furrowed in concern at the distressed noise, so sad sounding that it pulled at his heartstrings. he gave you his hand when you reached for him, letting you cling and fiddle anxiously at his fingers.

“what’s wrong, sweet girl?”

“need you, please. wanna feel like that again- i’ll be good, promise,”

“fuck, honey. okay- okay. you are being good, so good f’me. i’ll give you what you want, i always will,” he pulled out until only the tip was left inside of you, waiting until you clenched down around it to thrust back in quickly, wasting no time in warming you up when you were already so soaked and pliant for him, and only him.

you were given no option but to take it, still clutching at his one hand with both of yours, his other grasping your hip so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if he left little purple and blue bruises there, marking you as a reminder of how he makes you feel. you were excited to feel over them later in front of a mirror, to take a couple of polaroids to capture the memory and press down on them until the sweet pain sent shocks of pleasure to your cunt.

“oh- please, feels so good,”

“so tight around me, taking it so well,”

he fucked you so deliciously, you both let every sound out, your moans and whimpers intwining with his groans and grunts, creating a song that would play in his head when he fisted his cock to the thought of you whenever he couldn’t have you near.

he treasured you like your mama always said a man should, he made you feel oh so good, head empty with everything but him. no one else had ever occupied your mind like remus had. sure, he was openly blasphemous and he wasn’t religious, so your daddy would never approve, but you didn’t care. as long as you were forever his and he was yours, you would never care about your daddy’s opinion again.

your high built up, toes curling in the stirrups as you clung to him the best you could, slick coating his thick cock as he pounded into you, most definitely creating a mess. his free hand slipped from your hip, causing you to be jostled further up the bed as he started swirling tight circles onto your clit.

he knew you were enjoying the more sensual side of sex that he’d shown you, but he briefly wondered how you’d react to him being a little rougher with you, maybe a scarred hand wrapped around your pretty little neck, fingertips pressing lightly into the sides as your tight pussy spasmed around him.

instead, he settled for leaning down, his warm breath tickling your breasts as you arched your back into him, screaming when his lips enclosed around your nipple, teeth grazing the tender skin. but, only when his mouth deviated did you cum for him, he hovered between your tits, glanced up at you, holding eye contact as he sucked your cross necklace into his mouth, teeth holding it between his scarred lips.

you knew in the back of your mind that this had gone too far, but it just felt too good. his mouth was perfect. you cried out, tears trickling down your cheeks as pleasure thrummed through you, fluid squirting out around his cock as he continued to fuck you, hips speeding up at your unrestrained noises.

remus’ cock twitched uncontrollably at the way you milked him, walls constricting so tightly around him that it almost hurt. his balls tightened, and he folded more into you, head buried between your tits as his mouth gaped open, cross falling from between his teeth as he came inside of you, filling you up to the hilt.

you both panted, bodies covered in a light sheen of sweat that made his shirt stick to his skin, still fully clothed as pushed up, hair flopping down from where it had been so perfectly styled to the now messy locks, strands curling slightly at the ends.

you both groaned when he pulled out, you hating the horribly empty feeling and him from overstimulation. you were barely aware of him tucking his cock back in his boxers, only sign being his belt clinking as you fought to stay conscious, still wracked with the onslaught of the powerful aftershocks that left you shaking, growing disappointment filling you that it was over already.

“are you up to trying else something new today? i promise it’ll feel very good,”

head still spinning from pleasure, you had no choice but to comply, almost too fucked out to even register that remus was speaking to you. you nearly blacked out at the feeling of a soft, wet muscle gliding over your clit, heartbeat pounding in your ears as he began to lick at you, pearly cum leaking out of you and onto his tongue, making him groan at the taste of your combined fluids. he sucked and slurped, cleaning you up with his mouth, making you writhe uncontrollably and mewl loudly.

still ever so sensitive from your previous orgasms, you didn’t last long, stuttered breaths causing your lungs to ache from the lack of oxygen before you fell apart, the blood rushing around your head too loud to hear the sugary praises murmured by remus, repeated “good girl,”s and “thaaat’s it, there you go, baby.”

you completely consumed his every thought, and he knew he’d spend the next couple of days until your next routine appointment replaying this moment in his head again and again, the way your head tipped back, back arching once again and hair mussing on the thin pillow. the way you screamed at the pleasure that only he could give you. the way you tasted on his tongue, the tanginess and sweetness of your cum that could never be replicated.

you collapsed back against the bed, body quivering from the intensity. he rubbed at your thighs soothingly, massaging at the sore muscles that had now relaxed, pressing kisses on your inner thighs, one just above your clit just so that he could hear you whimper again.

“say thank you,” he teased, voice low and honeyed, unable to keep the smile from it.

“thank you- mm- thank you, sir,”

“feeling any better?”

“mhm, much. i think you…” you trailed off, head lulling to the side sleepily.

he chuckled quietly, not wanting to disturb your peace as he unbuckled the restraints on your ankles, “you think i…” he prompted gently, before he carefully cleaned you up with a warm, damp cloth.

“i think you broke me, feels so good. m’like jelly,”

he couldn’t help but smile, his rough hands sliding beneath your bare back to pull you up, encouraging your head against his chest again. his heart fluttered when you melted into him, fully allowing yourself to go slack in his hold. you trusted him so much, he felt a little guilty that he’d taken advantage of you in such a vulnerable way, but he knew that this might’ve been the only way he could’ve gotten to have you. and now that he’d had you, he could never let you go.

he brushed stray hairs out of your face, the strands damp with sweat from where they’d stuck to your skin. resting his chin on the top of your head, he savoured the moment as much as possible, clutching your naked body close to clothed one,

“your heart is beating so fast,” you whispered, glass heart so hopeful that he might be feeling the same as you, biting you lip as you pulled back to meet his eyes again.

he leant down slightly, his face was so close to yours, far closer than appropriate. a part of your naïve, little self couldn’t bear that you were participating in something that god wouldn’t approve of, with someone that you weren’t even close to married to, but you still loved it. and you still allowed him to do anything he wanted to you.

his attention flicked between your eyes, his brown irises consumed by the blown out pupils, before it flicked down to your rosy lips. he held your face, just enough to keep you in place as his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, pulling it from between your milky teeth.

you gasped when he closed the gap, eyelids fluttering shut as you pressed against him, unsure movements showing your inexperience as you desperately tried to copy the way his lips moved against yours. he took it slow with you, wanting to savour it and not make you panic, but also enough to entice you, to make you need more, not just want.

remus swiped his tongue along your mouth, taking advantage of the way you gasped again, swirling it inside briefly before drawing back, allowing you a moment to breathe. you trailed after him, trying to follow his lips for more.

smiling, he leant your foreheads together, still keeping you close as you panted, having not yet learnt how to breathe and kiss at the same time. it was okay, he’d love to teach you. in fact, he needed to be the only one to teach you these things, wanted to be your first and last.

the two of you spent as long as possible just holding each other there, silently sucking in each others heat. he eventually moved back, leisurely redressing you with sweet kisses in-between each item. a kiss to your hipbone for your underwear. a kiss to the tip of your nose for your top. a kiss to the sole of your foot for your socks, making you squeal.

as you slowly came back down, you began to realise that what had happened was definitely sin, but you wondered why god was so against something that felt so good. why would he not want you to be happy, when this was certainly the happiest you had ever been.

remus eased you to stand, holding you up in case you still wobbly legs gave out, but also to selfishly steal as much affection from you until two more days time. he wasn’t sure how he was going to last that long without feeling you, touching you and tasting you. he yearned to take you home and teach you everything he knew. to taste you until the sun came up, and then a little more. he was infatuated with you.

one hand on your back, the other cupping the back of your head, he bent his head down, nuzzling your nose lovingly before kissing you again. you couldn’t get enough of the feeling, kisses with him were indescribable, you only wished that you could get to do it more.

you giggled when he turned around, handing you a red lollipop meant for little kids, unwrapping it for you as he tentatively watched you wrap your lips around the sweet, not realising the not so innocent thoughts that were tormenting his head.

“did so very well for me today, you’re responding perfectly to the treatments. i think we will go ahead with making these appointments house calls, and much more regular visits too. how would you feel about that?”

you nodded eagerly, gasping excitedly at the thought of him being around more often, and maybe even in your bedroom, “yes please, but you’ll have to talk to my daddy.”

“of course, i’ll be looking forward to seeing you again, y/n,” he smoothed down your hair, returning your grin. luckily for him, you missed the way his eyes darkened at the way you referred to your father, and the way he had to subtly rearrange his already re-firming cock beneath his trousers.

remus walked you to your parents car again, his hand straying a little too low when no one was around. your father didn’t hesitate to agree to the house calls, nor to the even more regular appointments when he saw you beaming, visibly happier than you’d been in months, if not years.

you couldn’t wait to see remus again, nor him you. when he returned back to his office after waving you off, he couldn’t help but palm at his length, thinking of all the things he’d be able to do to you in the very near future.

[strawberrytoki]

Closer than anticipated

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: You and Spencer visit the unsub's suspected place of hiding to investigate, but his unexpected return forces the both of you into a cramped closet. The forced proximity then leads to an...accident.

Content: mentions of arousal, descriptions of murder

Word count: 1,247

a/n: I heavily imagined early seasons Reid for this one (specifically s2) Also this is heavily inspired from that one scene in teen wolf.

The clock's slender hands couldn't have been moving any slower, and the BAU's members couldn't have been more stiff with tension and anxiety.

The team had decided to send you and Spencer to Cedric Marlin's hideout, since you were both the BAU's most observant members, and the team needed every last bit of evidence to finally catch the criminal. He was the prolific eye-gouging unsub that the BAU was finally able to zero-in on after months of meticulous investigation. The team didn't want to make any arrests just yet, since they wanted a solid case, so you and Spencer were in charge of gathering as much evidence as you can.

The parameter was under surveillance by your fellow team members, and you and Spencer were treading lightly, slowly preparing yourself for whatever was inside this man's place.

You entered the premises, Spencer cautiously following suit. You immediately noticed that the house was dingy and damp, suiting its inhabitant. The stench of what you could only assume was rotting human flesh wafted throughout the house, causing both you and Spencer to physically recoil.

"We'll definitely find all the incriminating evidence we need in here." Spencer started making his way down the hallway, following the increasingly strong stench. He stopped at the entrance of the last room on the left and adjusted his glasses, mouth agape with a mixture of curiosity and shock.

You caught up to him, only to eventually mimic his reaction yourself.

"This must be where he keeps all his souvenirs." He inched closer to the stacked mason jars, filled with a preserving liquid and what you both concluded were the eyeballs of his unfortunate victims.

"unmatched depravity..." Spencer walked around the room in an attempt to find more evidence.

"Anything catch your eye?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Ha Ha." He sarcastically chuckled, a playful smile sneaking up on his face afterwards.

The investigation felt like a twisted game, each time one of you found a piece of evidence, the other would somehow find something to one-up the previous discovery in terms of depravity.

After what seemed to be hours of probing into this psychopath's lair, you and Spencer figured that you'd gotten everything you needed, and were about to head out. Just then, the sound of a cacophonous creak in the door sent a quick chill through both your spines. You knew it wasn't any of your teammates, since they wouldn't break protocol like that, and they didn't need to.

If there's anything this line of work has taught you, it's to always assume the worst case scenario. You were a realist, this was no gust of wind. It was him, and you both knew it.

You slowly craned your neck to Spencer, who appeared just as perplexed as you were. His mouth was agape and by the calculative look on his face, his mind was probably running at about a thousand thoughts per minute, trying to figure out a way to get both of you out of this mess unscathed.

You stealthily maneuvered around the room to get a proper perspective on the unsub, and Spencer was right behind you, his calm breath landing near your ear.

He slinged his plastic bag, that you did not want to know the contents of, on the kitchen counter. He had a leather eyepatch covering his left eye, and his clothes were covered in grime and reeked of filth.

Much to your horror, the unsub started making his way towards your location, and you needed to think fast if you didn't want your eye sockets to be what remains in your casket.

"We need to find somewhere to hide before he gets any closer." You faced spencer and slowly started backing away, a worrisome expression on your face. Spencer nodded and carefully followed suit.

You frantically looked around, knowing that the time you had to spare was decreasing by the millisecond. Finally, your eyes landed on a small closet near the corner of the room. The door looked like it was on it's last leg, but beggars can't be choosers. You quickly held Spencer by the wrist, yanking him forward. Both of you then squeezed into the cramped closet, and were facing each other. Neither of you dared let out a sound.

Spencer didn't seem all that uncomfortable, but you still tried to maintain as much space between the two of you, since you knew how he felt about physical touch.

Through the cracks of the closet door, Spencer saw the unsub pack a larger ice pick than what he usually used to disfigure his victims, and a bunch of other weapons. "This is a drastic change in MO, he's either evolving or this is his endgame..." you tried to fully process what he just said as you nodded in agreement, but the proximity was simply too distracting. However, you admired how observant he was even in times of stress.

A few minutes passed as the two of you were observing the unsub, just then, you felt something relatively hard poking you, and as the realization that Spencer had an erection dawned upon you, you felt the color leave your face.

You slowly lifted your face to face Spencer, and it looked like he'd rather be anywhere on earth but here. Even though the confined space was dark, you could tell his flustered face was as red as a tomato, and he was bent on avoiding eye contact.

"I'm...so sorry-" he blurted out.

"It's alright." you interrupted him. You tried to ease the tension by reminding yourself that he had no control over it, but that only did so much. "I'll just turn around." You then shuffled around the very limited space to face the front, with your back to him. At least then, you wouldn't have to face him.

"Uh...that's not helping." You both scratched your heads in frustration and confusion. This was clearly not the time and place for such a bodily reaction and you both knew it, but you couldn't help but get flustered over it as well.

You then realize that the unsub must've been hard of hearing, as there's no way he would've heard all the shuffling and not done a thing if he wasn't.

Just then, you felt your radio device turn on and couldn't be more relieved. It was Hotch trying to get an update, and you readily filled him in. It was only a matter of time before they entered the premises with the S.W.A.T team.

You then heard the door being broken off its rusty hinges, probably courtesy to Morgan, and judging by the altercation near the door, you concluded that the arrest has been made. You then felt yourself letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and pushed open the closet's door, feeling a welcoming, slight breeze of air.

Spencer then reluctantly faced you, his cheeks stained with an adorable shade of pink.

You decided to help him out a bit and break the ice.

"This wasn't how I imagined this investigation would go..." you awkwardly chuckled as you both made your way outside.

"No...me neither." He looked up to the sky, his eyes slightly squinting. He was probably just glad this was all over, for more reasons than one.

You, on the other hand, weren't planning on letting this go that easily, and were definitely planning on taunting him by bringing this incident up in case he ever got smug with you.

[wileys-russo]

request for bf lessi x reader where sick grace clinton and clinging on the reader more than usual. Lessi doesn’t like that her cuddles are being stolen

mother hen II a.russo

you'd first met your girlfriend when you were both just fifteen, she was boisterous and outgoing and drew in everyone around her like a magnet.

alessia was easy to talk to and within just a few days of knowing her you felt so at ease in conversation it was like you'd known her for years.

you lived on opposite ends of the country but were always texting or calling with one another as you grew closer, in fact you often teasingly blamed the blonde for getting you into trouble at school because she would always text you while in class.

as you grew older you both in your own ways realised that maybe you harbored some feelings for one another that grew beyond the tight friendship that had blossomed over the years.

though as time had passed alessia had matured and become a little less outspoken, and so with an astounding fear of rejection at the back of her mind she kept these feelings to herself, as you did the same.

but naturally in your later teens you couldn't ignore the feelings between you both forever, and when you were dared to kiss one another on an under 19's national camp during a game of spin the bottle, everything shifted.

still neither one of you came forward with how you both felt, but your interactions changed. hugs lingered a little longer and filled you with a different sort of comfort and warmth, your touches seemed to feel more personal and concise.

things changed yet again when she left for college, that hug was something different all together and alessia had forced herself not to look back at you as all of her friends and family cheered when she walked through the departures terminal at the airport.

you didn't stop speaking of course, it was more difficult with the time differences but you'd both made a pact not to let that cause you both to fall out or drift away.

when alessia would come home on breaks and holidays everything fell right back into place like she'd never left, it never became any less easy to talk to her, but there was always an underlying tension that neither one of you wanted to point out for fear of what it might mean.

you signed with manchester united the year before alessia did on a three year contract, the blonde was endlessly proud of you and even made sure to come home for the celebrations of your first professional contract.

after a few drinks and away from the watchful gazes of your friends and family you were laid together in alessia's bed in her childhood home, a room which seemed frozen in time as it had never changed in the slightest over the years she was away.

maybe the confidence to finally tap into the unspoken electricity between you both was fueled by alcohol, or maybe you'd both just grew tired of dancing around the truth for so long.

the kiss was years in the making and the relief which flooded both of your bodies when afterward you both came clean about the feelings harbored toward one another felt like the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulders.

when alessia returned home for good you were over the moon, even more so when she accepted her own contract at united and you could finally be together in a way you'd both long yearned for.

you played together for two seasons in manchester, came out to your families and reveled in developing the newfound connection and relationship between you, exploring it together and growing more and more in love with one another as the months passed.

but when your contract with united ended and the past season you'd spent more time on the bench than on the pitch, meaning the senior national team call ups stopped coming, you suddenly had a big decision to make when other offers from new clubs came flooding in.

alessia had promised no matter what your decision was, it was yours to make and she would be by your side in full support regardless, she loved you truly and purely and nothing would change that.

with promised minutes and a bumped up salary you accepted the offer from tottenham with constant reassurance from your girlfriend that compared to country to country distance, manchester to london was nothing.

it wasn't always easy but you made it work, and when eventually alessia joined arsenal you could be together again in the way you both missed dearly.

the striker got her own apartment with intention of it becoming shared once your own lease was up, and hardly spending a night away from one anothr the moment your lease ended you moved in for good.

if there was one thing that came to mind when someone spoke your name, one shining attribute that trumped the others, it was the selfless drive you had to look after everyone around you.

though in hand that often meant you'd put others needs before your own and it pained alessia at times to watch you prioritize others over yourself, she knew no matter what she said you wouldn't change and your intentions were never ever with any malice.

you were just quite simply, a good person.

your girlfriend was nothing short of protective, she had been ever since the two of you were just friends. when she was younger it was worse, if someone else had your attention she'd go out of her way to do anything to gain it for herself.

make a joke, make a scene, show off, be loud, anything she could to have your sole attention and with how fond you were of the taller girl it worked near every time, your teammates just rolling their eyes at the obvious need alessia had to command your entire focus.

when you started dating you were well aware of your girlfriends tendencies to judge a wandering eye thrown your way, even if it was nothing more than just that.

the moment alessia felt threatened in the slightest you were made aware. if it was being tugged into her lap, her lips kissing at your neck or jaw, hugged tightly from behind, your head gently turned to only be looking at her.

it amused you to no end just how possessive the striker could become, and though you knew it wasn't with any malice you would always chatisize her for it before assuring her that she was the only girl you had eyes for, watching as she would melt back into a puddle of puppy dog eyes and a pout.

alessia was always the more outgoing of the two of you and you were always more level headed, the two of you together was a balancing act that perfectly matched what the other lacked.

though that care and drive to look after others meant you'd adopted some of the younger members of your club team as your own of sorts, first and foremost which was grace.

having already been quite close with her during your shared time at united, when you'd moved to the club she was on loan at the twenty year old was over the moon and you found her attached to your side from day one.

that extended beyond the pitch of course, and at times alessia wanted nothing more than to throw out your seemingly adopted daughter when she overstayed her welcome at your shared home.

though admittedly alessia also had a soft spot for the young scouse and with a bat of her eyelids and a plea the blonde couldn't stay mad at her for long. especially not with how much you clearly cared for grace, which alessia recognized wasn't all too dissimilar to her own close relationship with mary.

but this week in spain on camp with a seemingly harmless cold sweeping the team everything had shifted, and that soft spot alessia harbored for the younger girl was wearing dangerously thin.

when you and alessia had found out camp would be in spain and you were both named in the squad you were over the moon, with demanding schedules and league titles to be fought for you'd not had a vacation in well over a year and you'd both grown beyond exhausted of the drizzly grey weather of england.

alessia was looking forward to sun, football, time with close friends and of course some quality time finally playing alongside her girlfriend for the same team.

but when the cold had you down for two days all of that went out of the window as you stayed behind to work in the gym when she was out on the pitch.

but despite your warnings alessia still stuck to your side anytime she could, and with a strong immune system never fell victim to the cold you had, relieved when you'd finally slept through the night without coughing or sniffling and woken up with the color returned to your face.

but there was another person who'd been around who did not have such a strong immune system, grace.

thankfully it hadn't hit her as hard as it did you and she was still able to train with the group like normal, just needing a few extra breaks here and there.

but with you still worried for her, alessia suddenly lost you as her training partner and watched as every session you hovered by grace and paired up with her instead.

"jesus christ less you're gonna take my head off this is just a drill!" mary yelped as she dove out of the way of the ball spiraling straight at her face which cracked the back of the net with a swoosh.

but the blonde didn't even hear her, attention already switched to watch you training at the other goal across the field, eyebrows knitted into a frown watching as you stood to the side awaiting your turn, grace leaning into your side as your arm was drawn over her shoulder.

"don't tell me you're jealous. they're like sisters less urgh!" ella shoved her best friend with a teasing smirk, snapping her attention out of it as she shoved her back.

"no! don't be stupid tooney." the blonde rolled her eyes and readied herself for another kick, the pass sent in by lotte as her boots smacked against it with a thump.

"alessia!" mary yelped as again she dove out of the way, the ball sailing right at her face somehow even faster and harder than the other one did. "sorry mary!" alessia winced as the older girl groaned from the ground.

the whistle blew to signal training was over and as much as your girlfriend wanted nothing more than to plant herself at your side she quickly hurried over to help mary up.

"don't use me as a punching bag for your relationship issues, or at least kick the ball away from my head less!" mary huffed as the girl hauled her up to her feet and brushed the grass and dirty away from her knees.

"i don't have relationship issues i have grace issues." alessia rolled her eyes after hugging mary in apology. "ohh i see. you're all moody because your girlfriends too busy looking after her adopted daughter when she's sick instead of paying attention to you, poor little less!" mary cooed teasingly pinching her cheek and pulling her into her side.

"anytime i think i get five minutes alone with her grace appears with a headache or a runny nose or a sore throat. she's barely sick she's fine, she's been training the whole time!" alessia rolled her eyes with a huff, marys body vibrating with laughter.

"mary its not funny! can't you look after her?" the striker whined with a frown at the girl who held her hands up. "i've got my hands full with the hopes of england, sorry less." mary sighed holding them up as alessia rolled her eyes and swatted them away.

"hi baby." though she perked up at the sound of your voice and span around with a beaming smile. "less!" you laughed as the taller girl picked you up into a bear hug, settling you back onto your feet and continuing to hug you tightly.

"i missed you." the blonde mumbled as you rubbed her back and laughed. "lessi we were apart for like thirty minutes." you grinned, gently pulling away though alessia made sure to keep a tight hold on her hand.

"lets go lay by the pool babe, suns lovely." alessia suggested as you nodded your agreement, laughing at the way your girlfriend practically dragged you with her.

"less!" you laughed louder as the taller girl all but threw you onto the sun lounger, crawling on top of you with a grin. "hello gorgeous." the blonde smiled eagerly as you shook your head.

"mmm that feels nice." you sighed happily as the taller girl laid down on top of you, gently kissing at your neck and jaw as your arms wound round her back scratching lightly up and down at the skin beneath her training top.

"so does that." alessia smiled against your neck, head popping out to hover over you again, not missing the way her eyes flickered down to your lips. "not getting shy are you now baby?" you teased, the girl never hesitant about kissing you.

"no but someones getting cocky." your girlfriend grinned back, lips hovering over yours, curling into a smirk as you leant up to capture them in your own and she pulled her head back.

"its not nice to tease alessia." you raised an eyebrow, her hands wandering to grab your hips, thumbs rolling circles as she continued to smile and hover over you.

though right as it seemed she'd finally given in, leaning down and pressing her lips against yours a ball thumped and hit her in the back of the head.

"now now you two there are children round here! nobody wants to watch you eat each others faces in broad daylight." mary grinned as alessia groaned into your shoulder and rolled off of you, grabbing the ball and hauling it back at millie who caught it with a beaming smile.

"back to your room or mine babe?" your girlfriend asked hopefully with a coy smile as you laughed and pushed her head away from you. "here i was thinking you just wanted to soak up the spanish sun, work on a tan, admire the poolside view...when you only want me for my body." you tutted with a shake of your head.

"i do not! i love everything about you, including your body." alessia corrected, sitting up as you rolled your eyes affectionately and she grinned cheekily.

"in fact, if i told you you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me?" alessia smirked with a wink, dropping down on top of you again and kissing all over your face making you laugh and halfheartedly shove her off.

but right as alessia went to properly kiss you again now the girls had wandered away, a whiny voice yelling out your name had her smile dropping.

"we're not here." her hand covered your mouth as you glared at her and pulled it off, sitting up as alessia rolled onto her back and sighed deeply, grace appearing a few seconds later.

"whats wrong gracie?" you smiled as the girl dropped down on the lounger on your other side, melting into you as the taller girl wrapped her arms around your torso and you ran a hand through her hair.

"me heads fuckin killin!" grace huffed with a scowl as you pressed the back of your hand to her forehead. "you feel a little warm but thats probably just from running around at training. did you ask for another advil?" you frowned, rubbing circles into her back as alessia glared at the younger girl who simply stuck her tongue out at her and nodded.

"maybe some sleep? we've not got anything else on until dinner." you suggested softly as grace nodded, moving around until she was laying down comfortably with her head in your lap as alessia's eye twitched.

"maybe you should sleep in your own room in your bed!" alessia warned, flicking grace's ear as you clicked your tongue at her and smacked her hand away. "tell ya bulldog girlfriend to stop pickin on me." grace mumbled as alessia's eyes widened.

"less! act your age." you warned before she could retaliate, the smug smile on grace's face having alessia wish she could smack it off as alessia stood up with a huff.

"where are you going?" you sighed as she stood at the end of the lounger with a scowl and her arms crossed over her chest. "away from our apparent adopted child who i did not want!" grace whined as alessia pinched the back of her ankle, the younger girl kicking at her lazily.

"less she's sick!" you laughed as the blonde sent you a pout and a frown. "yeah less i'm sick." grace echoed, turning her head to look up at the older girl with a grin who shook her head. "did you say she had a temperature?" alessia questioned as you nodded.

"a little. but at least you sound clearer and you're not coughing." you directed the last few words at grace, rubbing her back as alessia's eyes narrowed. grace may have been sick a few days ago but now your girlfriend was sure she was just putting it on for attention.

"oh wait i have to ask sarina something! less be nice, she's sick." you sternly warned your girlfriend who gave you a soft smile as you pried grace off and stood to hurry after your coach who was wandering past with a few of the girls.

"come on russo ya know you'd love a cuddle." grace grinned patting the lounger as alessia scoffed. "with my girlfriend? yes i would. but you won't leave us alone you little shit." alessia again pinched the midfielders ankle who whined.

"keep pickin on me and i'll just tell her, good luck getting a cuddle then." grace grinned as alessia withhheld the urge to scream. she'd always looked at grace like an annoying little sister but it seemed this camp she was determined to really settle into that role.

"do you still feel warm?" alessia sighed as grace perked up, assuming your girlfriend was about to give in and baby her just like you'd been. "a bit." grace shrugged as alessia nodded and gestured for her to sit up.

"why?" grace asked though before she could even blink suddenly she was over alessia's shoulder as the taller girl strode off toward the recovery area. "less! put me down man." the girl tried to roll off but the taller blonde held on tightly.

"nah i'm just helping you get better. you're hot? better cool down." alessia grinned, stopping and suddenly dropping grace into the bright orange bins which were acting as on sight ice baths, the younger girl gasping and spluttering as alessia doubled over laughing.

"you're dead!" grace launched herself out of the bin and lunged at alessia who yelped as a wet body attached to her back, shivers running down her spine as grace dumped a handful of ice down her top.

"oi!" both girls stopped dead in their tracks, alessia turning as grace's arms tightened around her neck, both of them sporting matching guilty smiles as you stood in front with a raised eyebrow and hands on your hips.

"she started it-" "this is all her fault she-"

but both girls fell silent as you held up a hand. "i don't care. grace go to your room and take a hot shower before you get sick again!" you warned, the younger girl dropping from alessia's back and hurrying off at the stern tone in your voice.

"i love you?" alessia tried with a guilty smile, stepping toward you as you shook your head. "are you twenty five or twelve?" you chatsized as she scrunched her nose up. "i really love you?" the blonde repeated.

"i feel sick?" she tried again with a fake cough as you were unable to stop the corners of your mouth upturning into a smile as alessia cleared the remaining distance between you both with a few steps.

"very cute." you hummed with a roll of your eyes. "think i might need some extra cuddles, some extra kisses...just so i feel better." alessia grinned, hands playing with the bottom of your top as you took in her half drenched state with a sigh.

"you are a child sometimes alessia. you know that right?" you sighed tiredly as your girlfriend just shrugged, cold hands sneaking up your top to settle on your sides causing you to flinch.

but before another word could be said her head turned away from you and she let out a few sneezes causing you to raise an eyebrow. "baby i'll give you attention, you don't need to fake being sick." you rolled your eyes with a smile.

"...that wasn't fake."