#thread: the enemy teaching you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gffa · 2 months ago

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I'm still trying to navigate my way through the absolute avalanche of Arcane fic, but I am here to scream at everyone about the fics I've loved so far and try to drag a few more of you down into this hellpit of feelings with me. It's nice down here, I promise! Totally normal and with soooo many hinges, nothing off a single hinge here!

JAYVIK RECS:

✦ To love is to risk the soul's quiet by Disguised_Bird, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 32.7k When an anomaly suddenly transports an older, scarred version of Jayce into the Jayce of Viktor's timeline, the two must navigate the strange collision of past and future while grappling with feelings neither fully understands. As they work late into the night to find a way to send Jayce back, tension turns into intimacy, pushing Viktor to confront vulnerabilities he has spent a lifetime burying.

✦ Say My Name by Acryllic, jayce/viktor, NSFW, eventually post-canon, 77.2k wip “Tell me now if you don’t want this.” He stroked Viktor’s bottom lip with his thumb, “Keep saying my name if you do.”

✦ This ain't goodbye no more, it just began by SirCumference, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 7.1k After he and Viktor save the world, Jayce wakes up in his old bed on the day it all started. Things are different, this time.

✦ first times, second goodbyes by tragicperformer, jayce/viktor, NSFW, post-canon, 1.6k “What do you mean pull out?” He teases, the corners of his lips quirking up into a stupid, dopey grin. “I have separation anxiety.” “Yes, I know,” Viktor intones. “We were just discussing this. It is why I’m currently visiting you, rather than focusing on my duties back in the commune.” “Yeah. And when I pull out, you’re going to leave again,” Jayce rationalizes. Not entirely incorrect. “Just a few minutes. Please, Vik? Let me pretend for a little longer.”

✦ The Threads of Our Mind by Darling_Pigeon, jayce/viktor, post-canon, 3k Snapshot of Jayce and Viktor’s new life of exploration after the finale: Viktor helps Jayce adjust to his brace, but they discover they may be connected in another, strangely magical way.

✦ Time For Space by yurikazen, jayce/viktor, NSFW, post-canon, 6.6k First, there’s a wave of blinding light, tearing through the cosmos like a free-falling comet. Then, Jayce opens his eyes to find a smooth, unfamiliar ceiling above his head. (Jayce dies, holding Viktor close to him, yet death is just another beginning.)

✦ two left feet by ChiliCheeseCornDog, jayce/viktor, 4k Jayce rises from his seat, face set with a soft smile, and holds out his right hand with the palm facing up. “Let me teach you how.” The pause is long and unrelenting. “You are joking,” Viktor manages to say. or: Jayce teaches Viktor how to dance, Piltover-style.

✦ destabilise by antiparticular, jayce/viktor, 3.6k Jayce was naked and in Viktor's bed. Don't get him wrong - Viktor had dreamed of this happening, both literally and on slow days in the lab when he was feeling particularly self-indulgent, but for it to manifest outside of his overactive imagination? He was half tempted to pinch himself to check he'd actually awoken. Why was Jayce Talis in Viktor's bed? And more pressingly, why did Viktor not remember?

✦ Run It Back Again by Withercrown, jayce/viktor & vander/silco & cast, 18.9k wip Sometimes there's nothing you can do except scrap the whole experiment and start over. The worst possible outcome becomes an opportunity for a new beginning. Viktor and Jayce, estranged enemies in a brutal war, go back to the start - and then earlier than that. The key to their salvation ends up being an undercity brat named Silco. He's not quite the person they remember.

✦ Electric Desires by abisbookcase, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 1.2k Viktor gets an important phone call in the middle of sex, and Jayce keeps fucking him roughly, trying to make him slip up while he talks.

✦ Between gears and parties by chaosheadspace, jayce/viktor, 3.6k "Why do you think it is so hard for people like me to get a footing here?" Viktor asks. "Aside from the obvious classism, of course. I'll tell you. Bureaucracy. Do you know how difficult it is to even find a place to live without a last name up here?” Or: Jayce wants to save his partner some trouble and gets them married on paper.

ZAUNDADS RECS:

✦ Take Me Like You Mean It by Anonymous, vander/silco, NSFW, 2k Young! Silco and Vander have sex in the alleyway behind the last drop after closing.

✦ Mr Eye of Zaun by limeta, vander/silco & jinx & vi & cast, 28.8k wip Mylo and Claggor would say there’s nothing that scares Vi. She can dish out punches and evade danger better than anyone. She’s their fearless leader, always ready to take them on a job and back without losing anyone. It’s that level of assurance that they have in her, that confidence she exudes, that makes them trust and believe in her. But they’re wrong. Powder knows there’s something that scares Vi. And that’s because it scares Vander. Or: Silco reads the letter Vander left in the mines and sticks around as a boogeyman in the Last Drop.

✦ let fall the world by perfidiousalbion, vander/silco, nsfw, 4.2k Or: before it all went wrong, Silco and Vander had something good.

✦ The Lives of Others by Lilbaebloo, vander/silco & ekko & benzo, NSFW, 5.1k Ekko drops an emotional grenade on Silco and Vander when he brings up their fated night at the river thirteen years earlier. The plunge into the past reminds them both of how far they've come, together and apart, and what they have to keep living for.

✦ The Shore From Which I Fell by ClutchHedonist, vander/silco, NSFW, 1.2k “I knew you still had it in you.” Silco’s mouth tastes of ash. His tongue, tacky and dry with the suffocating weight of it, threatens to stick to the roof of his mouth as his lips fall shut. He does his best to swallow past the whisper of bruising already blossoming in his throat where Vander’s broad hand has yet again left its mark.

✦ Night Business by spicedrobot, vander/silco, NSFW, rough sex, 2.6k The rulers of Zaun play a game.

✦ While the world turns around by Blue_Daddys_Girl, vander/silco & jinx & benzo, 8.9k In a chance meeting Vander sees Silco for the first time since the fateful day he's come to regret so deeply. Silco has changed—they both have. Vander can't stop thinking about him.

TIMEBOMB RECS:

✦ Little Crow by shroomyystar, ekko/jinx, 2.1k There’s a monster under his bed.

✦ Let's Give It One Last Try by the_whole_shebang, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 12.3k The war is finally over, and Ekko is finally home, but an old friend has one more favor to ask of him. Jinx found the strength to walk away, but something told her not to let go just yet. Maybe if Vi and Ekko hadn't given up on her yet, then she wouldn't either. Plus, thanks to Ekko, she was starting to think that the past wasn't as set in stone as she though it was.

✦ Let Me Try by Blue_Daddys_Girl, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 4.3k Ekko walks away from the final battle in a daze after learning that Jinx is dead. Or: An alternate ending to the show, in which she isn't, no matter what Vi believes.

SOMETIMES THE SHIPS AREN'T THE POINT RECS:

✦ wait 'til your sister sees where you've been by QwahaXahn, vi & jinx & cast, post-canon, 12.9k OR: Jinx falls. The bomb explodes. Everything goes white. ...And Vi wakes up in a different world.

✦ was it the worst you'd never know by Anonymous, jinx & silco, 2.2k “Fix him,” she demands, voice barely decipherable through the breaking and raspiness from crying. Gentle, gentle, as gentle as Singed knows how to be, which is not very. Jinx will have no qualms killing him if he steps wrong. “He is… very far gone.” And indeed he is. His chest does not rise, and his eyes are vacant. He is gone. “FIX. HIM.” aka jinx refuses to let her father die and brings him to singed. it goes better than expected

✦ Six Weeks Since by argonautoida, jinx & viktor, 2.1k Six weeks after Silco died, Jinx finally makes a friend.

#lumi.txt #arcane #jayvik #zaundads #timebomb #fic recs #arcane fic recs

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ixel-4 · 17 days ago

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stray kids fic recs

✿ - my favorites

✧ ty for the resources:))

— Bangchan

ᰔᩚ Tease by @thevampywolf {domestic, fluff, suggestive}

ᰔᩚ Untitled by @slutforleeminho {fluff, suggestive, jealousy}

— Leeknow

ᰔᩚ Girlfriend Stealer by @thegreenlynx {idol!au, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff}

ᰔᩚ More than enough time by @estellan0vella {college!au, fluff, angst}

ᰔᩚ Invisible Thread by @astraystayyh {academic rivals to lovers, fluff, angst, slowburn}

✿ Language Barrier by @dreaming-medium {fluff, strangers to lovers}

ᰔᩚ That your man? by @thewinter-eden {mugger!minho}

ᰔᩚ The Enemies to Lovers Project by @softukiyos {college!au, e2l, fluff, angst, suggestive}

— Changbin

ᰔᩚ Here with you by @mintquokka {est relationship, fluff}

✿ The Accidental acquisition (of sugar) by darlindev {non idol!au, sugardaddy!changbin, f2l, fluff, smut, humor}

ᰔᩚ 3:26pm by @cosmicalily {fluff}

— Hyunjin

✿ Gentle by @ivyyisbored22 {virigin!reader, fluff, smut}

ᰔᩚ used to being used by @mykoreanlove {smut, angst}

ᰔᩚ Eight first dates by @minkieater {fluff, smut}

— Jisung

ᰔᩚ The happiest by @hanibalistic {fluff, angst, romance, soulmate!au, strangers to lovers}

✿ After Hours by @jisunggy {office!au, fluff, angst, suggestive}

✿ Something like love by @hanniebaeee {fwb to lovers, fluff, suggestive}

ᰔᩚ Late night fantasies by blossomwritesthings {hurt/comfort, fluff, smut}

ᰔᩚ You Called? by @thewinter-eden {demon!jisung, fear/comfort, fluff}

— Felix

✿ Just this once by @puppym3 {bsf!felix, smut, angst, fluff}

✿ rosy by @rosylix {bsf!felix, f2l, slowburn, awkward mutual pining, smut}

ᰔᩚ breeding kink with felix by @straykeedz {smut}

ᰔᩚ 2:41am by @vampzity {fluff, smut}

✿ Remember this Summer by @pixiefelixie {fluff, angst, suggestive}

— Seungmin

ᰔᩚ Love (and caffeine) on the brain by @cosmicalily {fluff}

ᰔᩚ Hold me Tight by @cosmicalily {fluff, suggestive}

✿ Blind Date by @daengtokki {fluff, angst, eventual smut}

— Jeongin

✿ You're sexy im sexy by @astraystayyh {friends to lovers, fluff, tension}

ᰔᩚ Employee discount by @felixbit {coffee shopau, fluff}

ᰔᩚ please fall before i fall by @astraystayyh {bsf to lovers, fluff, angst}

ᰔᩚ All mine by @skzms {smut}

ᰔᩚ I.N x Photographer reader by @0omillo0 {fluff}

— Ot8

✿ Teach me by @chancloud8 {friends to lovers, fluff, smut}

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castieltrash1 · 7 months ago

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hiii since you're taking got requests and i saw sandor is one of your faves: there's this post that's like "submissive like a guard dog is submissive" (i hope this makes sense even if you don't know what i'm talking about) and it always makes me think of him bc he's. you know. the hound. so what i'm saying is anything sandor-related with a dom reader would be very appreciated since i've never really seen anyone write him like this before :] if that's not your thing, that's totally fine though !

oh dw anon u came to the right place <3

sandor clegane x gn!reader; smut, dom/sub dynamics, dog motif, the hound is ur beaten and battered guard dog <3 mentions of violence, strong language, etc.

it doesn’t matter how you meet. maybe he serves your family. maybe he’s kidnapped you. maybe you’re just some lowborn whore whose face he pushes into the mattress to avoid looking at when he’s fucking out his anger. at some point, regardless of the roots of your relationship, the hound begins to heel. it’s not always obvious -- especially if you’re not some little lady/lord he’d be beheaded for lifting a finger to -- but it’s there. he’s already spent most of his life like this, and being with you is no different. you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

once he (somewhat) lets you in, the dynamic shifts. you’re not just his liege, his captive, the prettiest face at littlefinger’s silk street brothel -- you’re his. and that makes him yours, he thinks. it means taking care of you, giving you as much comfort and safety that he can offer in this hellish life. it’s the least you deserve for picking him, since now he’ll never let you leave. you’ve resigned yourself to a cruel, cold, and crass beast; who cares if he has to behead a man or two to keep you fed or hold an entire inn hostage just so you can sleep on a featherbed for the night? he’ll never say please or thank you, but he’ll always stand in front of you. he’ll always lean against the door in case someone tries to break in.

he’s not gentle. he’ll growl when you tug his hair, a makeshift collar threaded between your fingers, urging him between your legs or bringing him back up to your mouth. he’ll bark about breaking you in, splitting you in half, vulgar words foaming at his mouth the longer it goes on. and when you lock eyes with him, he’ll always crumble under the weight of your gaze, lowering his head in some twisted form of obedience. he’ll eat out of your palm and you’ll know there are mutts in volantis better fed than him.

“sandor?”

you could hear the resulting sigh from a mile away, the sound of his armor clanking as he heeds your call. when your eyes lock on his figure, he rolls his shoulders back, masking the way he bows his head as if it were nothing more than loosening a crick in his neck. it’s hard to tell when he’s blushing, but you swear there’s a hint of flush blooming down his neck. you think if you asked him to kneel right now, he might even do it.

“i’m hungry,” you say instead, making your way toward him with a small, knowing smile. “let’s go eat.”

+ you’d be better off never mentioning it, but the similarities between sandor and your average dog aren’t too far off. he sleeps like one, always either curled into a ball or sprawled halfway out of bed; huffing and kicking with night terrors. he slurps out of bowls and licks his plates clean. he’s good at sniffing out enemies, even better at finding their scent on you, teeth bared as he asks where you’ve been and who with. he loves being pet and, if you catch him in a good mood, he'll sometimes nuzzle against your hand. and when he’s got you on all fours, clawing at the sheets or floor while you scream his name, it’s not hard to see he's always been more animal than man.

game of thrones weekend (reqs open!)

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane smut #sandor clegane x reader #game of thrones #the hound #the hound smut #the hound x reader #sandor clegane imagine #game of thrones smut #game of thrones imagine #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #a weekend of preferences and drabbles #t: writing #answered #anonymous

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pbaz7 · 2 months ago

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AGAINST THE TIDE — PART ONE

paige x azzi

trope: enemies to lovers

warnings: language

word count: 4.3k

A/N: I got a lot of request for an enemies to lovers series so here it is! In this one they both grow up in DC/Virginia to give it a better arc and make it more of a slow burn. I'm also going to experiment with POVs more in this series. This first chapter is pretty much just setting the scene on what's caused them to dislike each other so much. Let me know what you think!

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

March 2018

The gym was alive with the roar of fans, the bleachers packed to the brim as the Washington D.C. Girls Basketball Championship unfolded. The two teams on the court weren’t just competing for a title; they were locked in a battle of pride and supremacy that had been brewing between the schools for years.

On one side was Gonzaga College High School, led by the blonde, brash point guard Paige Bueckers, the number one player in the class of 2020. Less than 10 miles and a 20-minute drive away was St. John’s College High School, boasting its own star, Azzi Fudd, the number one player in the class of 2021.

The rivalry between their schools ran deep, stemming from heated football clashes that had been going on for decades, but it was quickly spilling over into the girls' basketball programs. Paige made sure of it. She’d been playing with a chip on her shoulder against St. John’s ever since they handed her team a bitter loss in last year’s championship game her freshman year. To her defense, she had been playing on a bum ankle after rushing herself back to help the team in the playoffs, but the sting of the loss had stayed with her. Sp every time she faced St. John’s, Paige was out to prove a point—and tonight was no different.

Azzi, meanwhile, was laser-focused. She didn’t care about last year because she wasn’t there, though she’d heard about it. But what mattered to her was this year, this game and everything going forward. But she couldn’t ignore how insufferable Paige could be. Earlier this season, Gonzaga had handed St. John’s their only loss in conference play, and Paige had been at the center of it, running her mouth the entire game.

“What’s wrong, Fudd? Can’t handle the pressure?” Paige had taunted during their first matchup, grinning as she drained a step-back three. “Don’t worry freshie—I’ll teach you how it’s done.”

Azzi had kept her composure back then as Paige chirped in her ear, but tonight was different. The stakes were higher, the score tied, and Paige was playing like she owned the court.

As Paige brought the ball up the court, her eyes scanned the defense, locking with Azzi’s. That trademark smirk spread across her face.

“Let’s see if you’ve learned anything since last time,” Paige quipped, her voice loud enough for Azzi to hear.

Azzi rolled her eyes, her hands ready, her feet planted. “Maybe you should focus more on scoring then on talking,”

Paige didn’t answer with words; she let her game speak instead. A possession later her quick crossover sent her defender stumbling, and Paige took the opening, driving hard to the rim. Azzi was there in an instant, meeting her midair and forcing her into a tough layup. The ball clanked off the rim, and Azzi grabbed the rebound, her intensity growing.

As she sprinted back down the court, she couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder. “You should really take my advice, Bueckers, that was pretty bad.”

Paige let out a breathy laugh at finally getting some words out of her, jogging to catch up. “Keep talking, Fudd. You’ll see how it ends.”

The game continued at a blistering pace, the two stars going back and forth, each trying to outshine the other and pull their team to a win. The tension on the court mirrored the years of animosity between their schools, the rivalry growing with every possession.

Azzi hit a pull-up jumper over Paige, earning a roar from the St. John’s crowd as she ran back on defense. Paige came right back, threading a no-look pass for an assist and stopping to blow a kiss to the Gonzaga section of the stands.

Every play, every word exchanged, added fuel to the fire.

For Azzi, it wasn’t just about the championship anymore. It was about shutting Paige up, proving that despite what the media said she was the best player in the DMV. For Paige, it was about reclaiming what she felt was hers—revenge for last year and dominance over St. John’s. It didn’t hurt that she was getting some competition going against the ‘best shooter’ in basketball.

The crowd could feel it: this wasn’t just any game. They were watching two greats go at it and it was rare to see two household talents come from the same area like this.

The gym pulsed with energy as the clock ticked down in the fourth quarter. Neither team could pull away, and the intensity between Paige and Azzi burned brighter with every possession.

Azzi moved with purpose, slicing through Gonzaga’s defense and rising for what looked like an easy layup. But Paige came out of nowhere, her hand swatting the ball as it went soaring into the crowd with authority.

“Get that weak shit outta here!” Paige yelled as she flexed both arms, the sound carrying over the roar of the crowd.

Azzi landed hard, her jaw tightening as Paige ran past her.

Azzi didn’t let it faze her. The next possession, she caught the ball on the wing, her defender sagging just enough to give her space. With a quick dribble, she stepped back, rising for a three-pointer that sailed over Paige’s outstretched hand and splashed through the net.

Azzi held her follow-through for a second longer than necessary, then smirked as she turned to face Paige. “You might wanna put a hand up quicker next time.”

Paige’s eyes narrowed, her grin twisting into something more dangerous. Azzi had no idea how much trash talk fueled Paige's game. “Alright, Fudd. You wanna talk shit now? Bet, watch this.”

The next few plays were a blur of brilliance, all led by Paige. She weaved through defenders with ease, hitting a floater over two St. John’s players. On the next possession, she stripped Azzi at midcourt, sprinting ahead for an uncontested finger roll to add a little extra. The Gonzaga fans erupted, sensing the tide was turning in their favor.

Azzi tried to respond, driving hard into the paint, but Paige was there again, cutting off her angle and forcing a wild layup that missed off the rim.

“Don’t force it, Fudd,” Paige taunted as she grabbed the rebound and passed the ball up the court. “This is my game now.”

Paige called for the ball on the wing, sizing up her defender before nailing a step-back three-pointer that sent the crowd into a frenzy. Gonzaga’s bench jumped to their feet, and Paige being the competitor she is, turned and gave a little shrug to the St. John’s crowd as she put her index finger to her lip showing that she had silenced them.

Azzi clenched her jaw, glaring at the scoreboard as Gonzaga’s lead stretched to eight. She could feel the championship slipping away, and Paige was at the center of it all with a cocky ass smirk.

The final buzzer sounded moments later, sealing Gonzaga’s victory. Paige’s teammates rushed the court, surrounding her as part of the gym erupted in cheers. Paige soaked it all in, her arms raised in triumph, while Azzi stood frozen near midcourt, her hands on her hips.

Azzi’s chest heaved with frustration as she watched Paige celebrate. She hates losing, but losing to Paige made it so much worse for some reason. Paige caught her eye from across the court, giving her a small, smug wave.

The Gonzaga team revealed in their championship victory, while the St. John’s players trudged back to their bench, disappointment etched on their faces.

The teams soon lined up for handshakes, the air between them still a little tense. To the crowd, it was a display of sportsmanship—players exchanging congratulatory words and polite smiles. But when Paige reached Azzi, the energy shifted.

Paige extended her hand, pulling Azzi in close as if to offer words of encouragement. Her voice dropped to a low murmur, just loud enough for Azzi to hear over the noise.

“Get in the gym, Fudd,” Paige said, her lips curving into a smug grin. “That’s what 2-0 now? Better catch up.”

Azzi’s jaw tightened, and her eyes flashed with irritation. Scoffing, she pulled back, brushing her shoulder against Paige’s as she moved past her.

“You’re such a bitch,” Azzi muttered under her breath, not bothering to look back as she continued down the line.

Paige’s grin widened as she watched her Azzi walk away, the satisfaction of the win lingering just a bit longer knowing she proved she was the number one player for a reason today.

December 2018

The rivalry between Gonzaga and St. John’s had only gotten more competitive in Paige's junior year and Azzi’s sophomore season. Every time these two teams met, the tension between Paige and Azzi electrified the gym as the crowd fed off of each of them.

Once again the gym was packed, the crowd deafening as Gonzaga and St. John’s went back and forth in a high-energy conference matchup. Paige, with her trademark poise and undeniable confidence, was on fire tonight. She was hitting everything — pull-up jumpers, threes from deep, tough finishes at the rim. With each basket, her smirk grew, and the energy around her was palpable.

By the time the fourth quarter rolled around, Gonzaga was clinging to a three-point lead. Paige, however, had already racked up 35 points and was showing no signs of slowing down. As the ball was swung to her on the perimeter, Azzi closed out hard, trying to force Paige to drive, but Paige just gave a sly grin and pulled up for a deep three-pointer as Azzi’s hand was down.

Swish.

The crowd erupted, and Paige didn’t even look at the basket as she turned to Azzi, her smirk widening.

“You might as well put on a Gonzaga jersey, Fudd,” Paige taunted, she jogged backwards to get on defense. “I’m scoring on you every time.”

Azzi’s teeth clenched, her jaw tightening as the frustration started to build. She had already been pushed to her limits with Paige’s relentless trash talk the whole game. So the next time Paige got the ball, Azzi was determined to make a play.

Paige drove past her on the right wing, using her speed and quick handle to get to the basket. Azzi did everything she could to keep up, playing great defense, but Paige made the offense look effortless, finishing with a smooth layup through contact. Paige landed on her feet, staring Azzi down as she straightened up.

“I really should start a clinic,” Paige continued, voice dripping with mock sweetness, “on how to defend me... I’ll give you some pointers after the game if you want.”

Azzi’s temper flared, the words cutting through her like a hot knife. Even the calmest person in the world got a little fed up here and there. She was feeling the heat of Paige’s relentless taunts, and the more Paige scored, the more Azzi’s focus shifted from the game to the battle unfolding between them.

When the ball was passed back to Paige, Azzi moved to cut her off, determined not to let Paige get an easy look this time. But as Paige shifted her body to drive past, Azzi made the mistake of reaching out with a little too much aggression. Her hand caught more of Paige’s arm than the ball as she went up for a shot, sending Paige tumbling to the court with a sharp thud.

The whistle blew immediately. Azzi froze, her breath catching in her throat. She hadn't meant to foul that hard, but the anger that had been building inside her made the contact feel more like a release than a mistake.

As the referee called for the foul, Azzi immediately ran her hands down her face, her face flushed with regret. She hated that she let her emotions get the best of her, especially when it came to a player like Paige. This wasn’t who Azzi was. She was better than this.

Without thinking, Azzi reached down to help Paige up, her voice soft, almost apologetic. “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

But before Azzi could finish, Paige yanked her arm away, her face a mask of anger and disbelief.

“Fuck you,” Paige spat, pushing herself off the floor and standing to her full height. She didn’t look at Azzi, her eyes cold and distant, filled with a harsher fire than what Paige usually plays with.

Azzi stood frozen, the sting of Paige’s words cutting deeper than she expected them to. But she deserves it so she took it in stride. The gym felt like it was holding its breath as the physicality increased, but Azzi didn’t want to dwell on the exchange. She turned away from Paige, heading back to her position as the crowd buzzed with tension.

The game continued, and though Azzi fought to keep her head in the game, it was clear the emotional toll was taking its toll on her. Paige, on the other hand, was unstoppable. She drained another three, her confidence soaring. Gonzaga was up by five, then eight. The scoreboard ticked down, and every time Paige had the ball, it felt like another dagger.

With under a minute left, Paige hit another step-back three, this one over Azzi’s outstretched hand, and it was clear the game was over. The gym erupted as the buzzer sounded — Gonzaga had won 78-66, and Paige had just set a career-high.

As the players lined up for handshakes, Paige felt the weight of the win settle in. But she didn’t feel any empathy for Azzi. No pity. No remorse. The girl couldn’t even handle a little trash talk without purposefully fouling. Paige knew she had silenced the noise, the trash talk, and everything else with a performance that couldn’t be denied by anyone who watched the game.

When she reached Azzi in the handshake line, she extended her hand, but it was more of a formality than anything else. Paige leaned in just enough to murmur, loud enough for Azzi to hear, “Maybe next time you’ll get closer if you don’t piss me off.”

Azzi’s eyes flashed, her entire body tensing as she forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Bueckers,” she muttered, brushing past Paige without another word as she continued down the line.

Paige watched her go, the sense of satisfaction lingering, and though she didn’t say anything, she knew Azzi wouldn’t forget this game.

…

Azzi adjusted the strap of her bag, her knee still a little sore as she limped out of the locker room with Ice packs wrapped on her leg. The sting of the loss was fresh, and the energy in the hallway was a mix of chaos and adrenaline. Reporters lingered around the halls, their voices carrying snippets of postgame chatter as they jostled to capture every quote.

Azzi tried to tune it out, focusing on getting to the bus. She was already replaying the game in her mind, agonizing over missed shots and what-ifs. But as she passed the press conference room, a question snagged her attention.

“Paige, what was it like playing in such a competitive matchup with someone who’s also considered one of the top players in DC if not the entire nation?”

Azzi slowed, her ears pricking at the mention of her name—or, at least, the implication of it. She paused just out of sight, listening.

There was a brief pause, then Paige’s voice cut through the chatter. Calm, confident, and just loud enough for Azzi to hear.

“I always love a competitive matchup,” Paige said, her tone light but unmistakably self-assured. “Games like that are what make basketball fun. It’s why I play. I love when there’s passion in the game like that.”

Azzi felt her shoulders relax slightly. That wasn’t so bad.

But then Paige kept going.

“That being said, I think I showed everyone why I’m the number one player in D.C. tonight and my team was able to come out with the win.”

The words hung in the air, and Azzi’s jaw tightened. Paige’s voice had an edge to it—a playful jab, but one that landed a little too close to home.

Gripping the strap of her bag tighter, Azzi moved down the hallway. She wasn’t going to let Paige’s words get to her, but damn if they didn’t light a fire under her for the next time they met.

March 2019

St. John’s and Gonzaga met once again in the championship game and honestly to Paige and Azzi it felt like deja vu. To everyone else watching this was the matchup they had grown to anticipate. The two guards always putting on a show. It wasn’t just about the title anymore; it was personal. Paige and Azzi both had more to prove than anyone on the court.

Azzi, standing tall at the top of the game and undeniably one of the best in the country, wasn’t about to let herself walk away with an 0-4 record against the cocky blonde. She’d been putting in the work all season, and despite the gnawing frustration of those past losses, she was determined to make this game different. But there was also something else driving her — the weight of being named Gatorade’s National Girls Basketball Player of the Year, as a sophomore. The title had earned her respect across the nation, but not in Paige’s eyes.

For Paige, that honor felt like a slap in the face. She had dominated the court all year, and everyone knew she was the best in her class and had beaten Azzi already this season. For Azzi to get that recognition before her, it stung more than Paige would care to admit to anyone. It was the kind of fire that pushed her to fight harder, to prove that no sophomore was going to overshadow her. She had something to prove — not just to Azzi, but to herself.

As the game tipped off, it was clear that neither of them had any intention of holding back. Azzi, with her perfect shot and effortless off ball movement, seemed to hit shots that defied logic. A step-back three from the corner with a hand in her face? Swish. A deep three from the logo, well beyond NBA range? No problem. The crowd erupted every time her shot dropped, but Paige wasn’t about to let Azzi get too comfortable.

On the other end of the floor, Paige was doing her thing: a mixture of quick ball-handling, aggressive drives to the basket, and, of course, her signature flashy layups that got the crowd involved. One of them, a twisting, acrobatic finish through a crowd of defenders, had the crowd gasping in awe. She flashed a grin as she jogged back on defense, eyes locked on Azzi, who was already making her way down the court.

“You’re not gonna be able to keep up again, Fudd,” Paige taunted, her voice loud enough for Azzi to hear as she took her position. “This is my game, you’re just along for the ride.”

Azzi smirked, not breaking her focus as she got into her shooting stance. “We’ll see when this game’s over,” she shot back, her confidence unwavering.

The back-and-forth continued like that throughout the first half, neither player willing to back down. Every time Paige hit a flashy layup, Azzi came back with a deep three. Every time Azzi sank another impossible shot, Paige answered with a smooth jump shot of her own. The crowd was on its feet the entire time, watching two of the most talented players in the nation go toe-to-toe, each one refusing to give an inch.

But as the game wore on, the pressure started to mount. With the score neck-and-neck, the trash talk grew sharper, each jab cutting deeper. Azzi, with a quick hesitation move, crossed Paige up and drilled another three in her face. The crowd went wild as Azzi celebrated, but it was the words that followed that set Paige off.

“I guess that Gatorade Player of the Year really means something, huh?” Azzi quipped, her smile wide and taunting. “I think I earned that one, Bueckers.”

The words hit Paige like a punch to the gut. That recognition — the one that had bothered her for weeks — was now in Azzi’s hands, and the realization that Azzi had just used it against her was too much to handle.

Paige’s eyes narrowed, the fire inside her intensifying.

“Keep talking, man,” Paige snarled, voice low.

The rest of the game continued and Azzi seemed to be in complete control, hitting another deep three in Paige's face and then hitting a step-back jumper that had the crowd roaring. Paige tried to respond, but something in her game was off — whether it was Azzi’s defense or the mounting frustration of the game and the award Azzi had rubbed in her face, she couldn’t find her rhythm anymore.

With the game winding down, St. John’s had gained a slight but undeniable lead. Paige’s shots weren’t falling as easily as they had earlier, and Azzi wasn’t letting up. Each time Paige tried to make a play, Azzi was right there, forcing her to pass or making her take tough looks.

Finally, with just seconds left, Azzi hit another clutch three, sealing the game for St. John’s and finally giving her a win over Paige. The buzzer went off, and Azzi’s team erupted in celebration, the crowd going wild. Paige, on the other hand, stood frozen for a moment, her chest heaving as the weight of the loss hit her a little harder than it did her freshman year.

As the teams lined up for the post-game handshake, Azzi walked toward Paige, her smile wide with triumph. When they shook hands, Azzi didn’t hold back.

“Guess it’s 1-1 when it counts, huh? Looks like POTY went to the right player after all,” Azzi said, the words dripping with satisfaction.

Paige’s heart felt like it sank to her stomach. The Gatorade loss had already stung, but now Azzi was rubbing salt in the wound. Still, Paige held her composure, her eyes narrowing as she shook Azzi’s hand.

“Congratulations,” Paige muttered, forcing a smile. Paige hated losing but she wasn’t a sore loser.

But Azzi wasn’t done. As she walked past Paige, she threw in one final jab.

“Maybe you’ll get it next year.” Azzi’s tone was sweet, but the smirk on her face said it all.

Paige watched Azzi go, her jaw clenched tightly. She wanted to say something, anything, to retort, but she knew the damage had already been done. Azzi had gotten her win — and the bragging rights. For now, Paige would have to swallow this defeat and figure out how to come back stronger and take the jabs that were coming her way.

July 2019 - Azzi POV

I was on top of the world. After winning the championship and being named the Gatorade National Girls Basketball Player of the Year, I felt like nothing could stop me. Playing in the US Under 18 3x3 Tournament was everything I’d worked for, and I was thriving out there. Every move I made felt perfect, every shot dropping like it was scripted. The crowd was eating it up, and I was feeding off the energy.

But just like that, everything changed.

I was driving to the hoop, sizing up my defender, already thinking ahead to my next move to get past them. My first step was quick, explosive like always — exactly how I’d practiced it a thousand times. I planted my foot to make a sharp cut, my body flowing into the motion like it was second nature. But then… something snapped.

It wasn’t the sound of my foot hitting the court. It was a horrible, sickening pop that shot through my leg like it had been on fire. For a split second, everything froze, and I just knew.

My knee. It wasn’t supposed to buckle like that. I didn’t even have time to scream as the pain hit, like a burning wave spreading from my knee up my leg, down to my toes, into my core. I collapsed instantly, my hands going straight to my knee, trying to hold it together as if somehow that would stop the agony.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I couldn’t focus on anything except that searing pain.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, my voice cracking as I tried to breathe through it, my hands gripping my knee as if I could will the pain away. But it only intensified.

I couldn’t move. Every attempt to shift only made it worse. It was like my entire leg was on fire. I barely heard my teammates rushing to my side, their voices muffled as if I was underwater. All I could think was, This isn’t just a twist. This isn’t something I can shake off.

I knew it — deep down, I knew something was wrong. My knee felt swollen already, pulsing with heat. The pop I heard didn’t sound good. Please, please don’t be serious, I thought, even though I knew better.

“Azzi, what hurts,” my coach said, kneeling beside me, but I barely registered it. All I could think about was how unfair this was. I was supposed to be dominating, supposed to keep riding this wave of success. I was invincible, damn it.

But now, here I was, on the ground, clutching my knee like it was my lifeline — and I had no idea what was next.

The pain started to build, and my mind raced. ACL? No, MCL? My head spun with all the worst-case scenarios. This wasn’t how I imagined this tournament going. This wasn’t how I’d imagined anything going this summer.

My chest tightened as I sat there, trying not to lose it in front of everyone. I didn’t want to break down, didn’t want to show them how scared I was. But I could feel the tears threatening to spill. I wiped them away, blinking rapidly, but it didn’t matter. My body was shaking.

I just wanted to be back on the court. I wanted to keep proving myself, keep pushing. But in that moment, all I could do was sit there and hold my knee, hoping like hell this wasn’t the end.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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bat-boys · 11 months ago

Text

forever, my love

pairing: Azriel x fem reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+, mentions of battle and war, references to depression, smut (fingering) but it's romantic, angst but also fluff.

summary: you and Azriel had seen many battles over the centuries but when something goes wrong and has a lasting impact on you, Az promises to take care of you.

a/n: thank you so much for the love on the first fic! here's another one! I promise next time I'll write something happier haha, suggestions are welcome! I hope you enjoy.

The cruel, unyielding symphony of battle swelled in you as you continued to swing your sword at the enemies in front of you. Grunts of pain and screams of frustration left your lips as you continued to carve a path through the soldiers in your way, desperately trying to hold the line as Cassian had commanded.

Your body moved automatically, thanks to the centuries of muscle memory drilled into you from the intense training and the many battlefields you had found yourself on during your long life. In recent decades, you may have taken a step back from helping to command the Night Court armies and turned your attention to training the next legion of warriors and aiding your spymaster in more covert missions. Still, your body would always remember the steps needed in battle. It would never shrink from charging head first.

Once, you had been told you were beautiful to watch in battle—second only to Cassian himself as you danced your way through enemy hordes. But now, as you cut through another bottleneck of soldiers, you could only focus on keeping yourself alive, you were so extremely exhausted.

Step, swing, push, slash, pivot, hit.

As you managed to gut the last soldier in front of you, you allowed yourself a small moment of reprieve to collect your thoughts and take a gulp of air. The sound of battle raged around you, and you could faintly see your friends and allies around you, diligently fighting for a future you had only just battled for a mere handful of years ago. You sent a pulse down that precious thread, tucked deep within your heart and nodded your head in relief when you felt a responding pulse from the male on the other end. Alive. He was still alive. That's all that mattered at the moment.

You heard a shout close beside you and watched an Illyrian soldier, who had been grounded due to semi-shredded wings, fight off a group of soldiers starting to swarm around him. Taking a deep breath, you sheathed your long blade and palmed the knives strapped to either thigh.

Winnow, slash. Winnow, stab. Winnow, swing. Your High Lady herself had taught you this particular move after you had seen her yourself face enemies from a different war, a different conflict. You kept the image of your friends smiling at Feyre as she had embarrassingly walked you through how she did it, blushing furiously at your insistence in teaching you at the forefront of your mind, and you continued to dance to the sound of the battle's symphony.

That was the future you continued to fight for, and you were determined to protect it.

…

Your entire body heaved as you shoved your blade through the chest of the last soldier in front of you. The sounds of battle were quietening and dying out as the last of the enemy horde were tied up or killed.

A groan left your lips as you yanked your blade free and used the last of your power and strength to winnow to the edge of the battlefield. You stumbled as you landed, cursing yourself for letting your power drain so thoroughly during battle. Az would chastise you about that later. Speaking of which…

Where are you? You sent down the bond, waiting for the familiar calm voice to reach your mind. A frown fell on your face as the minutes stretched past, and you didn't hear a response from him.

Az?

You refused to panic just yet. While this was unusual, you knew the moments after a battle was the most crucial for a spymaster as he gathered up defeated enemies to spirit them away for interrogation. He was probably just busy, you reasoned with yourself.

But a small part of your brain also whispered that he always kept the precious channel between you both open and always responded when you called.

You trudged through the mud towards the huge fortress in front of you. It may have been dilapidated and crumbling, but it provided a place where Rhys could gather his allies and forces and not be constantly caked in dirt and mud from his war camp. Once, it had probably been beautiful, home to some illustrious High Fae family, but now it was home to tired soldiers and had clearly seen much better days.

Azriel. You tried again to reach your mate through the bond, your heart thundering louder in your chest when you didn't receive a response. This time, you stretched your consciousness along that bridge…and slammed into a cold stone wall on the other end. Panic began to claw up your throat, but you refused to give in. He was probably busy with Rhys or Cassian; you desperately tried to reason with yourself as you sheathed your heavy blade into the scabbard strapped to your back and walked up the stone steps to the bustling entrance of the fortress.

"Injured that way, please!" You heard the familiar voice of your High Lady directing her people from inside the entrance. She turned around, and you saw her face relax in relief as she spotted you, "Y/N. Oh, thank the cauldron, you're alright."

Feyre was wearing her Illyrian leathers, her hair windswept and looking just as tired as you felt. She walked towards you, and you hugged her tightly, grateful to see one of your dearest friends safe and sound. You gently manoeuvred around the bow strapped to her back as she hugged you back just as fiercely. Much to everyone's surprise and yours and Rhys' amusement after the war with Hybern Feyre had mastered the notoriously tough Illyrian bow - why anyone doubted her after her past in the human realm you were still confused by. You had seen her sweeping over the battlefield today and dispatching enemies, saving your life more times than you cared to admit. Her flying wasn't strong enough to join in with the Illyrian legions yet, but she had become invaluable on the battlefield once again.

"You looked awesome up there today." You both grinned at each other, warriors recognising each other, "where is everyone?"

"Amren and Mor are in the war chamber, exhausted but ok. Cassian was dropping off a soldier to the hospital wing."

"Az?"

"I thought he was with you?" A quick shake of your head had her face falling, "Ok, he's probably busy with clean up - let me see if Rhys can reach him."

"Thank you," you whispered, and she squeezed your shoulder and kissed your cheek before going back to directing people coming through the entrance.

You jumped as you felt a bigger, wider hand fall on your shoulder but relaxed when you turned to see Cassian grinning down at you. Not the Illyrian warrior you were desperate to see but still a fucking welcome sight.

"You saved our asses out there, as usual, tiny angry one." You rolled your eyes at the nickname he had given you hundreds of years ago as you let him pull you into a bone-crushing hug.

"Glad to see you survived another battle, General, and without getting yourself torn to shreds."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up you." He teased as he gently pushed your shoulder. You may be Az's right-hand woman with his spy network now, but you were Cassian's second in command first. A formidable warrior whose name struck fear into your enemy's hearts, renowned for being utterly ruthless in combat and undefeated. How long ago it now felt when you and Cassian had first led the armies in that war hundreds of years ago.

"Have you seen Az?" You hated how quiet your voice sounded, but you struggled to keep the panic at bay.

"No," Cass frowned, "is he still out there?"

"I don't know, I can't reach him." You whispered, and immediately you felt Cassian shift, ready to head back out there and find his brother - could see the panic that settled in his eyes at the thought of finding him dead on the battlefield.

"Let's not panic yet. We'll go find Rhys, and we can set up a patrol-"he continued to talk to you, laying out a plan before you, but you couldn't hear him. Couldn't hear over the sound of your own panic as you tried to not give in to the fear that was eating away at your heart. You absolutely refused to even think for a minute that he was dead. But why was the bond cold? Why hadn't he gotten in touch, and why hadn't anyone seen him since the battle ended?

You turned your head to the side, ready to throw up the small amount of food you had choked down earlier, when-

Y/N! You froze as you heard a familiar roar and couldn't place if it was something you had heard echoed around the stone room or through that precious bond you shared.

Immediately, you turned from Cassian toward the sound of that shout, and your knees nearly buckled when you finally spotted Azriel walking through the fortress's entrance, bathed in his shadows.

His eyes were wild as he scanned the room, looking for you. His hair was matted to his sweaty forehead, blood coated his face, and he was stalking forward with a slight limp. But he was alive. Alive.

"Az." You had barely whispered his name, but you watched as his eyes snapped to you, and something broke in his carefully carved facade as his gaze took you in. Pure, undiluted, raw relief settled on his face as he realised you were still here, unhurt and standing.

Sobbing, you left your friend behind and ran towards your mate. He just stopped where he stood and held his arms out, catching you as you barrelled into him. He rocked ever so slightly back as he caught you, a testament to the exhaustion seeping through his body, but you felt that primal part of you that had been thrashing around your heart ease as his arms circled around you tightly and he buried his head in your hair - breathing you in.

"I thought I had lost you." You sobbed as you pushed your face into his neck, breathing in that comforting smell of night-chilled mist and cedar.

"I know, baby, I know." His beautiful, scarred hands gently stroked down your blood-soaked and matted hair as he continued to mumble, "I'm here. I'm safe. We're safe."

"What happened?" you asked as you pulled away ever so slightly from his body, letting your feet hit the unforgiving stone floor. Azriel's face was so tender, so soft, as his hands came up to cup your face. You watched, giving him a minute to scan your face for any injuries. A sigh left his lips when he noticed that you were largely unharmed apart from the usual cuts and scraps from battle.

"Faebane," he muttered darkly, and you gasped. "One of the soldiers had some and threw it on my face when I got close. Clearly, they haven't got much, and it's a diluted solution leftover from the war with Hybern as it cleared quite quickly, but still…this is something we now have to factor in."

"I couldn't feel you down the bond." Your voice hitched.

"I couldn't feel you either, sweetheart, I didn't know if you still breathed. I was so scared." Another sob slipped through your lips, one of sadness but also one of relief as you gripped his Illyrian leathers and pulled him closer - unable to stand any distance between you. You rose up on your shaky legs and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss wasn't sweet or tender; it was demanding and all-consuming. It was a kiss between two mates who had been terrified that after their years of searching, they had lost each other. You felt the rumble of Azriel's moan as you tilted your head to get better access to his lips. His hand reached up to cup your head to hold you in place as he licked into your mouth, and his arm snapped around you as your legs finally gave out and caught you before you sank to the floor.

You broke away gently, not going far as you rested your foreheads together. Your bodies heaved as you sucked in air for what felt like the first time since the battle ended. You closed the distance again to press your lips to his again, once, twice, thrice.

"I can't do this anymore, Az." You whispered, tears slipping down your face. Tears that Azriel captured with his thumbs as he looked at you with such devastation, "the wars, the battles, not knowing whether our friends are alive, not knowing if you are still alive. I have never felt so old."

"I know, sweetheart. I know."

You both sighed as you felt the soldier hovering near you, waiting to catch your attention. Once, you would have known every soldier's name, but now you just had a vague recollection of his face. "Azriel. Y/N. I'm sorry to interrupt, but Rhysand has requested your presence."

Az pulled away slightly to nod at the soldier, who offered you both a respectful salute before leaving. You felt his scarred hand drift down your arm to grip your hand. You felt his squeeze, and you squeezed back, "Come on, love, let's go get this over with, and then let me take care of you."

…

The fortress was quieter now, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the next attack; the next moment, you would all be dragged out onto the battlefield again to face your enemies. You and Az had been stuck in meetings for hours after that initial reunion, and you had felt so hollow as your friends recounted what they saw throughout the day, the tactics the enemies were using and how you stood a chance at defeating them once and for all if you hold strong. You hadn't let go of Az's hand the entire time, only letting go once he had told his story about the faebane and he had seen tears slipping down your cheeks again and had pulled you into his arms.

A sadness clanged through your chest as you watched all of your friends that afternoon once the allies from other courts had left for their own war camps. Even through the exhaustion, the court of dreamers was still fighting, even though you had all been on the battlefield in a different war only a handful of years ago.

Azriel had made good on his promise. The minute Rhys commanded you to rest, Azriel gripped your cold hand and pulled you towards the room down the hall you were sharing. Immediately, he had asked a passing soldier to grab you a plate of food, something warm, before strolling into the room and firmly closing the door behind him. With such gentle hands, he had taken your frozen body and sat you down on the impressive four-poster bed in the centre of the room, your body sinking deeply into the comfy mattress.

He firmly pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before moving away to stoke the fire that someone had forethought to start while you were in meetings. Once satisfied, he quickly looked back over his shoulder at you - to check you were ok - before moving into the expansive bathing chamber. You could hear his footsteps on the tiled floor and the water gushing out of the taps into the large bathtub, but you couldn't stop the fear from clawing up your throat. Panic began to settle in again because he was out of sight.

What your enemies would think at the mighty Y/N reduced to this quivering mess.

Just as you couldn't take the roaring in your head anymore, at the nausea swirling in your stomach, and were about to get up to run to his arms again, Azriel stepped back into the room. You must have been shouting down the bond again because he had a soft, sad look on his face.

"I'm here, sweetheart." A whimper left your lips as you flew from the bed into his arms again, unable to get enough of the feeling of him, of being safe with him. His hand skated up and down your spine again, mumbling soothing words and pressing his lips into your hair: "I've drawn you a warm bath; come on."

You hadn't realised how much you had been shivering or how long you had been cold until the idea of settling into warm water felt so appealing. He smiled at you as he took your hands and guided you into the large bathing chamber. The bathtub sat in the middle of the room, large enough for not only you but also to accommodate wings, you realised. A soft smile fell on your lips at the thought.

In a comfortable silence that you and Az had always been able to enjoy, he gently began to unbuckle your damp and blood-encrusted leathers. With slow, methodical movements, he pulled the material from your body before throwing it into a basket in the corner of the room. You watched, your breathing shallow as Az ran his soft fingers up the exposed skin of your arms before hooking under the strap of your bra and removing it carefully from your body. Only then did his fingers skate down the soft valley of your breasts, over your abdomen, before slipping underneath the waistband of your underwear and slipping them down your thighs. Az had seen you in every state and had marked every inch of your skin with his lips and tongue, but this moment, him undressing you as you tried desperately to keep yourself from shattering, was the most intimate thing you had shared. It was warm and sweet, flecked with starlight.

That same warm smile was still on his lips as he took your hand and guided you into the warm water in the bathtub. An appreciative groan left your lips as your feet, legs, and body were submerged in comforting, warm water.

You turned around and grinned at your mate as you watched him unbuckle his own leathers and shuck them off his body. You couldn't help gazing appreciatively at his body, that body you also knew as well as your own: the proud contours of his shoulders, the toned muscles of his arms, his chiselled abdomen, the thick, powerful thighs. He truly was sculpted by the gods themselves.

Az silently padded over to the bathtub, slipping into the warm water himself before resting against one end and gently slipping his arm around your waist to pull you against him - your back pressed tightly against his chest.

With a gentleness that you know would shock so many people, he reached to grab the washcloth and soap from the side before he lathered them up and softly washed the mud and blood from your body. He took his time, kneading his hands into your aching muscles. He even undid your tattered braid and carefully washed the blood and dirt from your hair. The moment was so loving and beautiful after what happened earlier in the day that you couldn't help the tears that silently slipped from your eyes and tracked down your cheeks.

Once you were both clean, he pulled you flush against his chest again, letting you lean against him with your eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of being this close to him in the warm water. You idly traced the scars on his hand underneath the water where it was resting against your stomach whilst his other hand slid up and down your thigh, over your hip and up your body.

"I love you, Az." You whispered into the soft silence that had settled between you.

"I love you too, baby." You felt him press a kiss to your temple.

After today, after the horrors you had seen, after the panic that had coursed through your veins, you needed to feel something more. He wasn't close enough; you needed to feel him. Without saying a word, you lifted your free hand to gently grip the hand that was trailing up and down your body, stopping it in its lazy movements to slowly place it closer to that now throbbing part of you at the apex of your thighs.

"Sweetheart?" He questioned quietly. You could sense through the bond his willingness to touch you and feel his want with the way his erection was pressed against your lower back. But he needed to check that you really wanted this and that he wouldn't overstep some line, especially after today.

"Please, Az. I need you." You whimpered as you felt his slender fingers skim along your inner thigh.

"Relax, sweetheart, let me make you feel good." He rumbled against you as he gently began to press kisses under your ear, at that sweet spot he had found on that first night all those years ago. Your chest heaved as you felt his calloused fingertips trace up your thigh, over the curve of your hip, and along your bikini line before sensually slipping down to trace your slit.

A soft hiss escaped your lips at the feeling of his fingers so close to where you needed him most, a whimpering, "Please," leaving your lips as he chuckled behind you. His breath ghosted over the shell of your ear and caused a shiver to run down your spine.

"I have worshipped your body for centuries, love," Azriel murmured, his strong nose nudging the side of your head so he could begin placing open-mouthed, hot kisses down your neck, "and I never get tired of hearing those noises you make when I touch you."

You whined softly when Azriel moved his hand, but it was quickly silenced when you felt him suck on the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder as his strong hand gripped your thigh to move it to the outside of his so he had better access to you.

One of his slender fingers returned to your centre and traced your slit once again before gently swirling around that bundle of nerves. A curse ripped from your lips as your hips bucked at the contact, and another primal chuckle rumbled up Azriel's chest at your delicious reaction.

Azriel continued to swirl his finger ever so gently over your clit, every now and then applying the smallest amount of pressure and causing a sharp cry to leave your lips as white-hot pleasure shot up your body. It wasn't enough; he was teasing, and you needed your body to shatter in a way you were familiar with.

"Use your words, love. Tell me what you need." You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, and if you weren't wound up so tightly, you might have called him out on it.

"Your fingers, Az. Please." You whimpered.

"Because you asked so nicely." He mumbled into your skin as he gently slid one finger into your core. A sharp cry left your lips at the feeling of those scars creating the most delicious friction against your walls.

He set a slow but deep pace as he pumped his finger inside you, his thumb still drawing figures of eight on your clit. You could feel the pleasure building inside of you, your toes curling as you felt Azriel taking you higher and higher. His hand that you had been gripping, resting against your stomach, slid up your body to cup your breast. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he expertly rolled your nipples between his fingers and tweaked them in the way he knew you liked. You could feel that familiar crest of your orgasm approaching, and he had barely touched you. So expertly knew your body. You threw your head back against his shoulder, unable to do much but go limp against him.

"I love you so much, Y/N." He whispered, and you turned to face him and saw that raw emotion on his face again, an emotion that mirrored yours. As he slipped another finger inside you, curling his fingers to reach that spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, you reached up to grip his hair and press your lips to his.

You felt him grin against you as you kissed him, your hips undulating and rolling against his fingers to meet his lazy thrusts. The kiss was full of teeth and passion, and you felt the rising tide of your pleasure as you writhed against him. A cry left your lips as you felt yourself reaching the top of the wave, your mind turning foggy and hips bucking sloppily as you felt your orgasm approaching.

"Let go, love, cum for me." His words, whispered lowly in your ear, his tone dripping lust and awe, and the soft thrust he gave behind you that had you feeling how much he was enjoying seeing you like this, caused that band in your body to snap and the pleasure he had been slowly building crest and shatter. Pure, white, hot pleasure sparked throughout your body, sending every nerve-ending alight as your orgasm washed over you. Chants of his name left his lips as your back arched and your hips thrashed as he continued to pump his fingers deliciously inside you.

After what felt like hours, the wave of pleasure began to subside and be replaced with a bone-deep satisfaction. A sigh left your lips as you slumped back against your mate, his arms catching you - as they always did - and pulling you close to him. You felt Azriel mumbling your name whilst pressing soft kisses to your temple, cheek and jawline.

"Rest, love. There will be time for more later. I promise." It was that promise you clung to as you rested against your mate and let your body relax in the cooling water of the bath.

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lizzy06 · 7 months ago

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Ushijima Wakatoshi Fic Recs!!(Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad)

Haikyuu! Fic Rec Masterlist

Shiratorizawa Fic Rec Masterlist

Shoot the ball ✨✨💖by alkhale (enemies to friends to lovers, pinning, fluff) As captain of the dying Shiratorizawa Kyudo Club, you're sick and tired of the biased favoritism that goes to the showier sports. Especially the worst of them all—the boy's volleyball team. You're determined make the entire school a fan of your archery. You just didn't know that you had a fan from the start. [COMPLETED]

I Believe You’re My Soulmate✨✨ by @sleepybutwriting (oneshot, soulmate au, humor) Soulmate AU where the first thing your soulmate says to you is written on your wrist. With the phrase you got, you always pictured your soulmate as some nerdy guy, but boy are you wrong. [COMPLETED]

porphyra✨✨ by deltachye (fluff)Despite the uniform of regality, he wasn’t a King but rather an Ace; and he’d long since stolen the title of your Ace of Hearts. [COMPLETED]

Bitter/sweet ✨by krystallisert (oneshot, fake dating, smut )“You could just get a girlfriend, you know,” he continues, hands at his hips. “Or a boyfriend, if that’s what you’re into.” [COMPLETED]

habits of my heart ✨✨by heartcondemned (first love, fluff, heartbreak)In your second year at Shiratorizawa you form an unlikely friendship with the school's golden boy that takes your life in directions you never expected. Fate has a funny way of bringing together the most unlikely people. [ONGOING]

Prodigy by infinitely hopeful Being the daughter of a prodigy volleyball player from Shiratorizawa meant that the demon coach entrusted no one else but you to manage the boys' volleyball team but you need to prove yourself to the captain who feels your role is unnecessary. [COMPLETED]

Red Thread. ✨by deltachye (soulmate au, angst, domestic fluff, eventual smut, )What do you do when your soulmate loves volleyball more than he’ll ever love you? [COMPLETED]

Story Time ✨by @oreosmama (oneshot, fluff)When you are assigned a partner project with the intimidating Ushiwaka, you start to realize he’s not all that scary, and maybe, just maybe you could teach him a thing or two about Happily Ever Afters. [COMPLETED]

Sober Thoughts✨ by @oreosmama (oneshot, angst to fluff, skippable smut scene!!)Drunk and full of bad decisions, you decide to walk to Tendou’s apartment to wallow in hopelessness over your feelings for Ushijima. But wait… why is Tendou taller and bulkier than usual? [COMPLETED]

you are jealous but you can't do anything because you're not dating him ✨✨by @screamin-abt-haikyuu (oneshot, childhood friends, angst to fluff) You think Ushijima isn't interested in dating.... even if the new student is a famous actress ...right? [COMPLETED]

Wine and Movie Pt 1| Pt 2 | Pt 3 by @seokiloquy [COMPLETED]

Impress Me Not by @seokiloquy ()oneshot, fluff[COMPLETED]

in proximity✨ by @lcvemiyuki (oneshot, fluff)ushijima asking for help on English is one thing--him sitting just inches away from you is another [COMPLETED]

Love is pain ✨ by @lou-struck (oneshot, fluff, soulmate au) People who share the same heart are led to each other by their pain which gets more intense the closer the two of you get. Imagine how you feel going to a Schweden Adlers game only to feel a blinding pain in your fingers when their Ace makes a block. [COMPLETED]

I need a challenge by @liillyliilly (oneshot, journalist! reader) [COMPLETED]

baby fever by @noosayog (oneshot, implied smut) Ushijima gets baby fever after seeing you with Iwaizumi's kid. [COMPLETED]

from no one to someone by @ennoshitas-princess (oneshot, fluff)You and Ushi-kun have known each other since middle school but never interacted, until he was stuck on some of the problems on an assignment. Sharing lunches and walking together. [COMPLETED]

Morning Runs by @karasuno-chaos (oneshot, fluff) Morning runs with your fiance. [COMPLETED]

In Time ✨by kaientai (soulmate au, fluff)In which Ushijima Wakatoshi firmly disbelieves in the success rate of soulmate-based relationships and you're too devoted to them for your own good. [COMPLETED]

Page 304 by deltachye (fluff, angst)Love had never really had that much meaning to him. It was just a word on the 304th page of the dictionary and that was it. Until one day, he flipped to the 304th page and thought of you. [COMPLETED]

drowning in a dream✨ by ealynwrites (fluff, humor, idiots in love, jealousy)where ushijima wakatoshi assumes they are dating, when in fact she has no idea.

real by @somethinginthethunder (oneshot, fluff) Ushijima Wakatoshi wonders if what he’s bringing to the table in this relationship is enough. At least, for you. [COMPLETED]

Hot Springs by @t0wnspersonb (oneshot, smut, fluff) You couldn’t remember the last time you and Ushijima got to spend proper time together, so when he suggests going to the hot springs for a date how could you refuse? Although, you two are doing a bit more than just enjoying the hot water. [COMPLETED]

you and wakatoshi have a fight by @pies-writes-and-more (oneshot, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort) [COMPLETED]

Sunshine by yril (arranged marriage, fluff, angst) You found a good job with a high salary, but it turns out it was high for a reason. You were about to change your mind but they offer it to be doubled. [ONGOING]

soulmate au with professor by @setter-crush-central (oneshot, soulmate au) You both have matching tattoo lines. [COMPLETED]

jealous by @pies-writes-and-more (oneshot, fluff) [COMPLETED]

rumor has it | part two by @bokutosworld (fluff) among the things you imagined happening on a Friday, being the subject of rumors wasn’t one of them. [COMPLETED]

The Eagle and The Rabbit by @t0wnspersonb (onneshot)Your directional skills weren’t the best, but it never mattered as long as Ushijima was by your side. But what happens when he’s not? [COMPLETED]

How He Shows You Affection by @jayeray-hq (fluff, oneshot) [COMPLETED]

Is Ushijima Wakatoshi a Domestic Deity or Dud? by @jayeray-hq (fluff, oneshot) [COMPLETED]

oneshot by @omisu (oneshot, fluff, strangers to lovers)your long-time coworker turned friend, Kuroo, sets you up on a date with one of his finest clienteles. [COMPLETED]

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yourlocaltreesimp · 11 months ago

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if I was the guide I would try to help link more then just help him with puzzles and where to go next. I would try helping with enemies and bosses by distracting them, help with stealth missions by making noise to distract guards, scavenge for things like rupees, bombs, arrows, food ect, for them, watch over link while he slept,help teach them how to play instruments cuz i doubt they would automatically know how to play, help keep them warm at night, let link vent and not bottle up his emotions,ya know cuz the poor boy deserves some help. Maybe guide reader help teach the links how to fight, cuz time, wind, and maybe legend, hyrule and how to sword fight cuz there's no way time and wind would know how to sword fight when their journeys first began, they were just kids, legend and four might have cuz legends uncle knew how to use a sword and fours grandfather is a blacksmith and in the four swords manga his father is captain of the hyrule knights, hyrule I don't honestly know if the fairies taught him how to fight with weapons, twilight was taught by rusl, sky, warriors and calamity were training/were already knights, wild would definitely have to be re taught how to fight again, and sage already remembered/ relearned how. I don't know how old first, korodai and courage were when they first learned,How would the chain react to that if they remembered? Sorry it's so long.😅

Sorry this one’s been sitting so long! This is going to be a bit of a ramble, but it’ll make sense! Took some liberties!!

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Player/Guide!reader is the epitome of comfort to the boys. Much of their lives they have been taught through experience to trust no one —not even their own goddess— lest they get a dagger in the back. And at first they are cautious. A person with no ties to hyrule who is so eerily familiar with the heroes and utterly bewitching? They’re half convinced you are a trick, meant to play on their insecurities and trauma.

Time gathers his recollections first. He remembers your calm voice correcting his form and swings, your encouragement to keep improving— not with the intent of killing, but with only his safety at heart. He’d buried his blade within the thick trunk of a tree and heard your old whispers through his ears, and it all made sense. That even as his bones were cracked and reformed and the threads of time unraveled, you were consistent. Even when he wasn’t the same him that you loved before, you were back again. Protecting him, even if he didn’t need it. You were arms for him to return to and someone to hold and love.

Legend remembered almost on accident. He’d bolted up from the solid earth, rings snagging at his hair as his fingers tugged at the root. His chest rose and fell rapidly, like that of a frightened animal. You’d cautiously found your way in front of him, talking him down from the world within. Your hands massaged his palms easing the tension and removing his hair from his grip. You’d done this many times before, he realised. You were all he had for the months after leaving Koholint, your unconditional love despite his less than stellar attitude was something he felt guilty to forget. But perhaps now he’d be content to make up for it by letting you keep him there, curled up against your chest… even if he’d get some teasing.

Twilight didn’t actually remember on his own. In fact, he’s so stubborn and protective over the ‘pack’ that he likely wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Epona. For a large part, he trusted her judgment. Most animals did have a keener sense for natural disasters, but she always seemed to have a good sense of character. Sure, it was odd enough she ate right out of your hand with a happy nicker, but she just really liked apples. She’s a horse, she’s easily bribed. But even then, he’s not sure how much bribing it would take for her to lay down and let you braid flowers through her freshly brushed mane. It was trust. From all the other times you did it absentmindedly —occasionally even to him— it seems her trust in character was still sharp.

Warriors was actually slightly embarrassed by how he came to remember. Dripping wet from the rain and favourite cloak littered with mud and holes, he was rather cranky. He got showered and changed —thank the three they were at an inn— and decided to leave the stained and worn clothes as a tomorrow problem. That was until his prized blanket scarf found its way into to your mits. He tried to snatch it back, earning some odd looks and the shutter of the sheikah slate. You were frustratingly difficult to catch. It seemed that hadn’t changed. When he was ultimately successful, however, he realised that you’d actually been making an incredibly successful job at washing and repairing it as you’d done thousands of times before. He remembers you my firelight, cobalt swathed over your lap as your needle glided through the fabric. He remembered trying to imitate your stitches. He remembered how he never quite got it right.

He let you finish working.

Four was having a crisis. Do not let his indifference fool you, this man is a wreck. Best believe that beyond his surprisingly stubborn stoicism, the colors are shaking each other by the shoulders and screaming. Red recognised you immediately. His heart was quite literally moulded after your soft words and carefully love, he couldn’t forget you so long as he had a soul. Green being the mediator between them all and heard his quiet utters. The most honest a man could be that his adoration was infectious. It was you who taught him who he was. Blue took a while. So strong-willed in his stance, the he forgot you were the one to teach him to take a stand. He forgot it was you who willed him to fight for what he loved. Vio fell last, what would you expect of the mind. He hardly noticed it. The way his thoughts timed to you, the way he sought your presence and craved your voice. It was you who taught them how to be separate and yet loved them wholly. And such loyalty could only be payed back.

Wind remembered you in fragments. He remembers his parent by oath, who shielded him from the vast world he was so desperate to see. He didn’t understand it at first. But loosing you, especially when his memory wasn’t fully gone like the others, was rough. He mourned and grieved, even if he didn’t realise it. He missed being cared for. Without the looming question of what favor needed done or when it would go away. He missed you. It took a while to heal. For him to feel ok trusting in people again, even eventually curling up next to Wars when he’d try to sleep. He felt guilty, as if he were betraying you when you dug up dead feelings. But it’s hard to be a rebellious rascal when your partner in crime is finally returned to you especially after you were concerned you killed them. It takes him a while to process your back, but he’s back at your side, tugging you along by the hand as he explains his next devious prank.

Hyrule remembers you through his magic. The way your heart stutters as he heals you is familiar, a beat he’s fallen asleep to many times before and the life within it is one he can’t help but feel… connected to. He keeps a close eye out, his ears wiggling at the familiar music of your laugh and his skin unfamiliar without your own to cradle it. You share a spirit with them, a bit of your soul and theirs and a small both of theirs in you. And yet his mind can’t call out to why. It keeps him awake, taunting at him. But he knows his soul yearns for the part with yours. He knows the rush of your blood and song of your soul. He knows he loves you. Even if he doesn’t get why.

Wild takes so long to remember you for exactly the reasons you’d expect. His mind hides away the most crucial parts of itself in plain sight, never to be noticed or recognized until the memories are far too warped and rotten to actually remember anything. Anything of note, that is. But for what it’s worth, he never really perceived you as a threat. You were homey and comfortable, a trait so unfamiliar to his life of travel, he didn’t care if it left a sword in his stomach. Besides, not any yiga could take on an act that long. He took off the cooked eggs and set them onto a separate plate as you sat quietly, Wind strewn over your torso. You hummed softly the same work song he’d sung for years. One for which he didn’t know the origin, not until hearing you for what felt like the first time again. He couldn’t help but hum along.

Sky was cursed to forget you.

I must preface because he is a lover boy first and hero second. He wouldn’t care who Demise was, nor his business, so long as you were safe and loved. He loved you more than each and every star in the sky. And he’d already began to start planning your home. He knew he loved you. He knew he was made to love you. And that was exactly why he was made to forget you. That loyalty was scary to the gods. That one would devote themselves to another for little more than love in return— Hylia could not risk her heroes to stray. But try as she might she couldn’t surpress you. Not when you were already married, souls intertwined through every timeline. Your role varied, a healer, a helping hand, a comfort, a home, a parent, a lover, a souse. But you were always someone to Link. No matter what the gods declared. He remembered you only after all the others had, but he’s alright with that.

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amatun28 · 26 days ago

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My Top best BTS members fic in my whole fanfic reading journey. ( ao3, YT, Wattpad, tumblr) [Part:01]

🌸These fanfics have my whole heart. The amount of happiness,emotion,nostalgia i felt its beyond unimaginable. I will cherise those fics until the end of my life. Thank you of all those writer who britten my day with their incredible talent and creativity. 🌸

🌺Long thread ( please read the review with patience)🌺

💐Author💐

1. Rafae's fiction on YT

My fanfic journey started with YT. I know many of us doesn't read yt fanfic, although we have solid reason not to do. Some of us also think yt fanfic means cringy type of fic. But trust me Rafae is a gem. Like she is truly exceptional. She has a strong aura that anyone can be captivated.

🍁Her stories🍁

◼Throne [ Taehyung fanfic ] by Rafae on YT

Genre: Royal au, arranged marriage, Angst (so much angst), smut, romance, fluff, happy ending. [completed]

Summary : A story of Royalty. A Periodic tale of three kingdoms. A tale of kings and Queens. " Throne" Is a story that had everything; Love, loyalty, friendship, betrayal, evilness, partition, pain, suffering, development, empowerment and devotion. A tale that takes the Romance to different level after passing through the stages of love. A tale of a Queen, more than a King. A tale of woman who proved that there is nothing stronger in this world than a broken woman. The Queen who teaches us to look in the eyes of demons and say Here I am standing, come and try to break me.

-Review:

[Must read] : The first thing I will say is it's not the typical type of fanfic people usually read, where the female lead is always weak or submitted to the male lead. This fanfic will change someone's perspective on women. And about the male lead, he is so caring and soft-spoken when it comes to his woman, sweet, with a strong moral compass and leadership like a full package. His character is so beautifully written that you will feel pain in your heart thinking, In real life, why do these kinds of men not exist? This story also has many different side characters, and each character has a different story, and each of them is so painfully beautiful. This series has 100 episodes. I had never seen any YT fanfic this long. Even the epi time is also very long, about 25-30 mins. Some of you will think that its 100-episode series might be boring, but trust me, not a single episode of this series is boring. Every episode is packed with suspense, emotion, and breathtaking plot twists that will leave you on the edge of your seat. And the best part? The storytelling is so vivid that it feels like watching a historical K-drama unfold right before your eyes. If you read the story, you will see the mention of 3 kingdoms that were actually from the Korean map that ruled ancient time Korea during the Three Kingdoms Period. So just go give it a chance; I must say you won't regret it. Also, the BGM of this series is like a full chef's kiss. 🤌

[Note: There are some grammatical mistakes in this series. The author had to upload one EP every Tuesday of the week. On YT after uploading the EP, she couldn't even edit the episode. Otherwise, all of the things are so perfect, so just dig in. ☺]

▪🍁[Jungkook fanfic]🍁

◼ [Reading between the lines] by anonymous on (ao3)

Genre: kinda enemies to lovers au,University au, slow burn, fluff, Smut, also jungkook is so sweet:( [completed ]

Summary: You're an art student beginning your final year at university, and the assigned partner for thesis project? Much to your dismay, it's Jeon Jungkook. You don't like him — he doesn't seem to try very hard, and besides, he's on the soccer team, and you don't really get along with athletes.

Thanks to a lack of available models and a shortage of studio space, you end up spending a large portion of your semester locked in a tiny closet with Jungkook, where you eventually discover he's nothing at all like you originally thought.

-Review:

Plz this is so good. Like so so so good.😭 you have to read this. The slow burn, the tension, the way their relationship grows. This kind of books will make your chest hurt (in a good way). And about Jungkook, i hopelessly inlove with his character. Also the pace of love-story was perfect like PERFECT. I will never forget the emotion and butterfly i felt reading this. Also the smut 👌💋. So just go and read this. A must read.

◼ Phycho by @moonchiiild_ on wattpad

Genre: Personality disorder au (reader), established relationship, romance, angst, happy ending [ completed]

Summary: You are wounded and broken. Laughing at scars was your habit, but tending your wounds was his speciality. Some may call Jeon Jungkook a perfect man to exist, but you knew your husband better than that; if you were his Bonnie, he is your Clyde. Psycho, maniac, insane. World called you many names, but your husband calls you his wife and stands beside you when no one dares. Jungkook is your possession, your medicine. The world may have rejected a bitch like you, but it takes only one person to snatch the monster out of you.

-Review:

Masterpiece the only word go to this series. This book is mix of suspense, romance. The first chapter of this book got me chokehold and there was no way escape of this. I just can't stop thinking about this. The characters are so good specially jungkook, this man is embodiment of all my fantasies here. After reading this story the only thing you will say that if i can't find any man like Jungkook in this book then i dont want any man. Like He is the STANDARD. Also there was so much angst on this book. But in the end its all worth it :(((

▪🍁[Taehyung fanfic]🍁

◼ Perpetual Rain by @NovainRose_ on wattpad

Genre: Slow brun, some fluff, angst, Smut, Reaper au, kinda time travel au?? [ completed ]

Summary: A troubled - soon to be - college girl is ravaged by uncontrollable hallucinations that she can't explain. Making an unexpected friendship with a stranger she met on the street but, he has secrets of his own. "Seriously, you've got me worried." His hands pressed into the tables brim, ready to get up at any second. "You barely even know me, why are you so worried?" You stared at him, irritated and confused. He was so persistent! "Is it bad for someone to care? Even if it's for a stranger?" Dark brown eyes narrowing and chest-nut hair cast to the side with a tilt of his head. "Just trust me." But, could she?

-Review:

I am whipped; I am just WHIPPED. It's such a beautifully written, deeply emotional journey filled with longing, love, and pain that lingers like the scent of the rain on a stormy night. This book still haunts me like a nightmare. The writing is so mesmerizing. Also, this book is kind of atmospheric. There is also a 2nd part of this book called" Timeless Snow". But this book is really a slow burn, like really, really slow burn. So don't get frustrated. Just go and read; trust me, you will love it. This book is one of my the must-read books.

This is my first time posting on tumblr. And these fanfics are very close to my heart. If you love these stories then plz show lot of love to the original author of these stories. At the end of the day, fanfic writers rely on positive reviews from readers. Its make the original author happy. Also, if you love the recommendation, then please tell me also.😌 So that maybe i will also make the part 2 of my favourite fanfics. 👀

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girl-lostconnection · 25 days ago

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Helldivers are just little freaks to me, freaky half feral dog creatures that are tossed to the meat grinder of war. Starving war dogs that do not understand what they are starving for exactly but nonetheless still chasing after what was demanded of them, hoping that maybe, MAYBE, if they go further-If they complete even more missions, they’d no longer feel that gnawing hunger even if it chips away at their very souls.

ANYWHO😌 this is reader to me

“Remember that you can’t save everyone. Remember that you have to try” YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME JESTER OH MY GODDDDDDD THE WAY MY HEART SANK. But yeah, you are spitting facts out here, I’m ready to sign under every word you are saying here.

@jesterinc, my G, this one’s for you

Helldiver!Reader who lives this long mostly because of the kindness and patient teaching from older divers. The shared knowledge, the shared manuals, shared camaraderie.

Reader who doesn’t know why Helldivers who are so much more skilful and who could (and by any standard should have) left them behind decided not to.

Question that keeps them up at night sometimes, question that ping pongs off the walls of their head, echoing louder when it’s too quiet.

Why-why-why-why-why?

Reader who doesn’t understand why these behemoths of war tried to help time after time after time.

They don’t get it until they got their first cadet joining in for a mission.

Jumpy tense thing, losing more bullets than actually hitting the enemy, not used to a recoil yet, not sure how to adjust the satellite tower, not very knowledgeable about the mechanics of battle that are their new home now.

(Everyone knows that Helldivers don’t die sleeping. Everyone knows that death is better than shame)

Reader who suddenly gets it why these older Helldivers helped them, why they carried a new pup on the battlefield, why wasn’t they just kicked to the side.

It is often said that Helldivers as a branch are one big pack of feral dogs.

Starved for scraps of approval, dying too young and snarling at every outsider. Feral creatures. Weapons of war.

Judgement rained from the sky on unsuspecting enemies.

It is often overlooked that the most prominent rule Helldivers live by is “we do not mock young in the field. We do not make them crawl and beg. We help. We were there once. We know how it feels to be a feral dog in eyes both enemies and allies. We know how it feels to be left behind. We do not leave ours behind”.

You that lives long enough to get a little bit closer in experience and skills to mammoths that helped you years ago to survive.

You who patiently covers for young cadet as they fumble with terminals.

What’s a little time wasted if this one might live long enough to crawl higher in rank.

What’s a little effort spared if you as divers already have to prove to everyone that you deserve to be here.

That you are not just dogs. That you deserve the same respect command shows to other branches.

You aren’t going to make cadet “prove themselves” when they have already passed the selection.

They are already here, aren’t they? Means they are worthy. Means they are yours.

Once Helldiver — always Helldiver.

It’s a constant journey and an uphill battle, you seeing first hand how fucking cruel life is to their branch.

How unfair command is. How hard missions are.

So what’s a little kindness shown if cadet behind them might live long enough to see the new generation of cadets.

If one day they too might become what you were to them today. What older Helldivers were to you when you started out.

Your branch is full of feral dogs and behemoths of battle, your branch is a dangerous thing (a grenade without a pin, a rifle without safety, a big bad wolf) hanging on by a thread of believing that your suffering can make the world a little better.

A little safer. A place where young cadets like this one will have more support, more training, more respect.

Simon watches you intently, eyes heavy with understanding, fingers twitching to reach out.

“Remember that you can’t save everyone, Captain”, he hums out, meeting your eyes in the reflection as you watch cadet buying new stratagems with excitement, their rank plate moving up.

Slowly, torturously slowly but steadily. Up-up-up.

They live thought the mission. They live through next three you walk them through. You won’t let them die. Not if you can help it.

“I know”, you muse back and there is phantom feel of hands on your shoulders, hands showing how to properly hold the rifle, hands dragging you out of hell because yeah, no one is gonna save Helldivers.

Other than Helldivers themselves.

You watch the young diver jog to the “Stratagem Hero” arcade, practically vibrating with excitement, eyes darting to you, asking for permission.

Their grin so wide when you nod to go ahead and try it, that you feel like their helmet might be illuminated from inside out.

They are painfully young and achingly fragile, not yet honed by years of work out in the field, their hands not yet calloused and burned one too many times.

Yeah, you remember that you can’t save everyone.

You also remember that you have to try.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #girl.snippets #girl.asks #helldivers au #helldivers oc #helldivers 2 #helldivers ii #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #simon riley

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kckt88 · 1 year ago

Text

Sytilībagon.

Summary:

Aemond follows his neice to her chambers, determined to teach her a lesson.

Warnings: Angst, Drama, Fluff, Language,Kissing, Incest, Smut - (Oral Sex - F Recieving), P in V Sex, Multiple Positions, Multiple Orgasms.

Word Count: - 2174

Sytilībagon - Belong.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

ENEMIES TO LOVERS.

AEMOND X O.C LAELA

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

As Aemond strode down the corridor, his footsteps echoing with purpose, he clenched his fists, his jaw set in determination. His niece's laughter still rang in his ears, a mocking melody that stoked the flames of his anger.

How dare she? How dare she mock him, belittle him in front of the others?

He reached the door to her room, his hand trembling with restrained fury as he raised it to knock. But then, a darker idea crept into his mind. No, knocking would give her too much warning. He wanted her to feel the fear that gripped him, the same fear she had incited within him.

With a quiet, menacing resolve, he turned the knob and pushed the door open slowly, the hinges creaking softly in protest.

The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing along the walls, casting eerie shapes across the floor. Aemond's eyes narrowed as he spotted her sitting at the vanity, her back to him, unaware of his presence as she threaded her fingers through her thick dark locks.

He stepped into the room, his footsteps muffled by the thick rug, his breath coming in shallow, controlled bursts.

With each step closer to his niece, his resolve solidified.

Finally, he stood behind her, towering over her small frame, his shadow engulfing her.

She turned, startled by his sudden appearance, her laughter dying on her lips as she met his steely gaze.

"Aemond," stammered Laela, her voice trembling with apprehension. "What are you doing here?"

Aemond didn't respond. Instead, he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder, his grip tight and unforgiving as he hauled her from the chair. He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

"You think it's funny to laugh at me, do you?" he growled, his voice low and menacing. "You think you can mock me and get away with it?"

Laela tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened. She could feel the rage emanating from him, a dark energy that seemed to consume everything in its path.

But as her hand reached up to grasp his, Aemond was caught off guard by an unexpected sensation that rippled through him.

In that fleeting moment of contact, there was an undeniable spark of intense attraction that flickered to life.

Aemond's grip tightened, not out of hostility, but out of a newfound curiosity.

Her gaze met his, and for the first time, he noticed the depth in her amethyst eyes.

Caught in the intensity of the moment, Aemond found himself drawn to her, his usual defences crumbling.

He couldn't deny the pull he felt, the unspoken connection that seemed to bridge the gap between them. It was as if the gods were conspiring to bring them together, despite their differences.

As Aemond leaned forward, his heart pounding in his chest, he hesitated for a fraction of a second, uncertainty warring with desire.

But then, it was Laela who closed the distance between them and pressed her lips against his.

The kiss was tentative at first, a tentative exploration of uncharted territory.

Yet, as their lips met, a surge of desire coursed through Aemond, igniting a fire within him that he never knew existed. In that moment, all doubts faded into the background, eclipsed by the overwhelming rush of emotion.

Laela responded to his kiss with a soft gasp, her own hesitance melting away in the heat of the moment. Their embrace deepened, each movement fuelled by an undeniable passion that defied logic and reason.

As the intensity of their kiss lingered in the air, Aemond's mind raced with a flurry of desires he struggled to contain. With each heartbeat, the yearning to be closer to Laela intensified, overwhelming his senses with a primal urge he couldn't ignore.

Gazing into Laela's eyes, Aemond felt a fierce longing stirring within him, an ache that demanded to be sated. In that moment, the idea of being apart from her felt unbearable, as if a part of him would cease to exist once they were no longer entwined.

Driven by impulse and a hunger he couldn't quell, Aemond found himself silently contemplating the unthinkable – to take her to his bed. The thought both thrilled and terrified him, awakening a whirlwind of emotions he struggled to comprehend.

In the depths of his soul, Aemond knew that such an act would irrevocably change things between them. Yet, the allure of surrendering to their passion proved too potent to resist, tempting him to abandon all reason in favour of the primal instincts that pulsed through his veins.

“Let me have you” urged Aemond.

“-Yes” replied Laela desperately.

Unable to deny himself any longer, Aemond shoved her towards the bed.

Aemond hooked his arms around her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

Laela watched as Aemond spat on her cunny.

His singular eye quickly looking at her before he lowered his head and pressed into Laela’ core with his tongue.

Laela clutched the bedspread above her head, her fingers digging into the fabric.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core, licking at her pearl with his tongue. He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.

Laela ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

“That’s it come for me baby-” urged Aemond, his fingers reaching forward to caress her pearl.

“AEMOND” screamed Laela arching off the bed as she peaked.

“Hmm” muttered Aemond as he pressed a series of kisses to Laela’ inner thighs.

“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Laela.

Aemond rose from the floor, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth savouring the delicious taste of his niece.

Aemond moved up Laela’ body pausing to grasp hold of her left breast as he ran his tongue over the peaked rosy nipple.

“Oh-“ gasped Laela.

“-ñuhon” growled Aemond as he seized Laela’ lips in a ferocious kiss, his hard cock throbbing against her thigh (Mine).

Aemond wrapped a hand around his cock and slowly ran it over Laela’ wet entrance, she began squirming impatiently against him as he continued to tease her.

“P-Please, I want you” exclaimed Laela desperately.

“Hmm” rasped Aemond as he slid inside her with a singular thrust.

He paused at her whimper of pain, pulling away slightly, and looking down to see the blood streaking his cock.

“A-Are you ok?” asked Aemond quietly.

Laela nodded slowly, her heart pounding in her chest, the sharp pain she had felt when he had first entered her was now a dull ache, she could feel his cock throbbing inside her and it made her insides squirm.

“Y-You can move now” muttered Laela.

Aemond started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his niece squeezing his cock.

"Faster, Aemond" begged Laela.

"Patience, issa dōna" chided Aemond as he ran his nose up Laela’ neck (My sweet).

“Yes, Aemond, just like that-" panted Laela

Her hands ran over his arms, over his shoulders, and down his back. Her nimble fingers mapped his back muscles and then went down to his arse and gripped him - pressing him into her harder.

“Gods, Laela" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly.

"Fuck me, Aemond. Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me. I-I want it-I want you”.

Aemond groaned loudly, he knew exactly what Laela doing, but he couldn’t help himself. She wanted faster, he was going much faster now.

His pace had increased with every filthy word that dropped from his niece’s luscious lips. Now he was quickly thrusting in and out, shaking the bed, the headboard banging loudly against the wall.

Aemond lifted Laela’ legs onto his shoulders and wrapped his arms around her thighs, squeezing them together as he thrust his cock into her soaking wet cunny.

Laela folded her arms above her head as she moved her hips, meeting Aemond thrust for thrust.

“Aemond! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Laela.

“That’s it baby-come for me” exclaimed Aemond as he felt her clenching on his cock.

Aemond could feel the tension in his abdomen, but he didn’t want to come. Not yet.

Not even waiting for her orgasm to fully subside, Aemond moved Laela’ legs off his shoulders and manoeuvred her onto all fours, she whimpered as his cock slipped out, but he bent forward to press a series of kisses to her glorious arse, his hands kneading the soft flesh.

“P-Please Aemond” whispered Laela, her voice slightly muffled as she pressed her face into the mattress.

Aemond took his cock in hand and sheathed himself inside Laela once again, his eye rolling into the back of his head.

“Fuck” groaned Aemond.

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Laela.

He began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts.

Laela took one of Aemonds hands that was on her hip and brought it towards her head.

Knowing what she wanted, Aemond placed his hand on the back of her head and pushed her face into the mattress, her back arching. His cock reaching deep inside her as he moved with such ferocity it could rival an animal, his long silver hair unbound and sticking to his sweaty back.

Aemond then grasped both of Laela’ arms and held them behind her back as he pounded into her, the sound of his hips slapping against hers echoed around the room.

Her screams of pleasure muffled by the mattress.

“Fuck. Laela-that’s it” moaned Aemond.

He took hold of Laela’ hair, twisting his fingers into the messy dark curls before he pulled her backwards, her sweaty back colliding with his chest.

Aemond held Laela tight too him as he fucked her, his cock reaching deep inside her.

One hand grasped her hip, his blunt fingers digging into her flesh. Whilst his other released her hair and moved to her throat, squeezing gently.

“Give it to me please” pleaded Laela her head lolling back onto Aemond’s shoulder.

Aemond could feel the tension building in his abdomen again, as he thrust his cock inside Laela.

“I want you to come on my cock again, but not like this-” muttered Aemond as he once again withdrew from his wife’s wet heat and propped himself up against the headboard.

“-Aemond” exclaimed Laela breathlessly.

“Ride me baby” replied Aemond as he pulled Laela on top of him. His hand moving to his cock, rubbing it along her folds before she sunk down and completely engulfed him.

“I-I don’t know how to-“ muttered Laela her cheeks tinged pink.

“Here-I’ll show you” replied Aemond placing his hands on her hips and moving her up and down.

“Oh-” gasped Laela as she rolled her hips against Aemonds.

“That’s it baby, take it. Take all of me”

Laela dug her nails into Aemond’s chest as she moved her hips against his, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside her perfectly.

“A-Aemond” moaned Laela as he sat up, moving his hand to her breast again and taking her nipple into his mouth, his teeth gently grazing the rosy bud.

“Let go baby, I can feel you clenching around me” exclaimed Aemond, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention as the other.

Laela’ thighs began to burn, as she felt her third climax approach, if her uncle’s face had been sculpted by the gods themselves, then his cock had surely been given to him by the devil.

It was sin incarnate and Laela was ready to let it claim her fully, her uncle had possessed every fibre of her being and she revelled in it. Her mother would weep at her ruination and her brothers would claim she had been defiled, but all that mattered in that moment was Aemond.

“AEMOND” screamed Laela her vision going white as she came around his cock.

Her uncle threw her back onto the bed his cock never leaving her warmth as he pounded into her, her legs wrapped around his waist, trapping his body against hers as he chased his own end.

“God. Laela” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he finally spilled his seed, collapsing on top of his niece, breathing hard.

It took a good while for Aemond to regain his senses.

Meanwhile Laela was laid underneath him completely blissed out. Her heart pounding in her chest.

Suddenly the realisation hit Aemond, he had just taken his nieces maidenhead, he had taken her to his bed and ruined her. What Lord would want her now?

No-she belonged to him. No other man would ever get to lay claim to her, he understood now more than ever, that he wanted her, he'd always wanted her and his hate was just a façade.

They were meant to be, and realm be damned he would see so.

There was only one way to ensure that she would belong to him forever.

“Marry me”

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond smut #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond #hotd smut #hotd #kcktfics

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jayholdenworld · 7 months ago

Text

Okay so, I been sharing ideas about carcar, but I have a lot more, and I need an idea of what to post after I finish the Landoscar fic I have.

So, here you go. A Master List of all my Carcar ideas.

1. Super power AU where those with powers are hunted and killed because they “are dangerous”.

Carlos is a hunter, but he gets powers after a traumatic experience, so he’s scared someone will discover and kill him. And Oscar is a “guardian” (someone who protects those with powers because they have a bunch of abilities).

So, when Carlos discovers Oscar’s safe space while Oscar identifies Carlos has powers they need to learn how to help and trust the other one while they’re protecting their own friends and families in the process.

2. Beta Oscar (actually an Alpha) discovering that his omega mate and partner for life is Carlos and having to deal with the idea of being the only one between them who knows this is happening.

Usually Omegas are the ones with the ability to “find” their alphas, but Oscar was raised by and with Omegas. So, instinctually, he knows how to find his other half. But he pretends he’s a Beta because it’s easier for his career.

While Carlos was raised by Alphas, so he doesn’t understand a lot of his Omega instincts and abilities. This, of course, includes his understanding of his feelings for Oscar.

Featuring Lando having the time of his life after discovering Oscar’s secrets. Carlos having mixed feelings about the Australian due to the closeness he has with his (previous) teammates. And Charles, Logan, Max, and Mark trying to help Oscar.

Of course, this idea includes them sharing heats and ruts because I can.

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3. One version of my Red string of fate AU (the other version can be read here but it’s a Carlandoscar version) with Oscar discovering really young his soulmate is Carlos Sainz Jr. but not saying anything once they actually met.

After Spa 2023 Oscar loses his ability to see their thread, which usually means their destiny together has crumbled into pieces and the universe has decided they should not be together. So he starts to pretend it never happened and he never knew about it.

But, instead of the world deciding they should no longer be together, Carlos gets Oscar’s ability and now he’s the one who is pushing everything to make Oscar look on his direction (His last attempt is Miami and we know what happened there)

For those expecting angst from this one, this idea is not so sad in my mind because it’s like an immediate change. Oscar decides to give Carlos some space so he can move on and Carlos goes obsessed with Oscar because “Oscar and him are soulmates! Lando! Your muppet friend finally found his other half!”

(After Miami both see the thread so they decide to talk about it when they have the time. That’s why after Monaco they are so soft around each other)

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4. Oscar as Alonso’s adopted son who had a crush on Carlos since he was little. He was adopted by the Spaniard after some traumatic experiences for the Australian, so, when Nando finds the kid walking alone in Asturias (and after a lot of legal investigations) he adopts the boy and starts teaching him everything he knows about karts.

And Carlos, how grew up admiring Alonso, meeting the young boy he adopted and having the same crush but being too scared of Fernando to even think about making a move.

Carlos, of course, is Oscar’s first everything (friend, crush, loml, rival, sports enemy, frenemy, situationship, fwb, and so on), so Oscar is always scare they are not going to work. While Carlos is having constant meltdowns because he wants Oscar so much it scares him.

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5. Hidden relationship, where they accidentally got married in Las Vegas after 2023 race and now they need to keep it in secret until they find the way to get an annulment.

When I say “secret relationship “ it’s their marriage. Before that they were in a… mess, because it was not even a situationship, but too much drinks and now they’re married.

I don’t do comedy, but this is basically, everything that could go wrong, goes horribly wrong.

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6. Oscar being Mark and Fernando’s daughter (she transitioned from male to female) and was adopted by the Piastri family a year after she was born. +20 years later, she’s a motoGP driver instead of a F1 driver.

She, of course, is still Logan’s friend (and sister thanks to Jenson, but that is another can of worms, part of the fic drama), so she goes to a F1 race after having a bad incident with Marc Marquez and Carlos is like “Marc could have won and she is the one to blame.”

Then Carlos crashes with Logan and Oscar is mad because “this was Logan’s race, everything in this sport is so unfair.”

So, when they met both are mad with the other (yes, it’s Spa, but with different flavor). They don’t fight because they’re not in the same sport, but “fuck him/her. They are so bad they should retire.”

(Cut this to both being drunk in the same bar by accident and having a one night stand both “regret” and praying to never met the other again. Just for them to meet time and time again because Fernando is a little shit and enjoys the drama they do each time they are together.

Of course, he doesn’t know Carlos is “doing” a lot of things to his sweet baby daughter every time they are alone. But Logan swore he would never say anything).

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7. 2021 Prema Oscar ends up playing “Marry, Kiss, Kill” with his teammates during and he picks Carlos, Charles and Seb as his options for the game. (They’re playing with Ferrari drivers only)

Carlos heard him and it’s been hanging over their heads the fact that Oscar jokingly (but also seriously) said he would pick Carlos, but Carlos never heard for what because he had a meeting so he needed to leave.

(This was based on the lyric of “so high school” from TS, where she says that she bets on all three for her and her lover. And Carcar definitely gives me those vibes)

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8. Prema Oscar meeting Carlos in 2021 and getting to date him. They keep their relationship hidden during 2022, but it’s harder for them to ignore each other once they’re together in formula one. So they decide to “beef” with each other to keep the other close without anyone noticing it.

The only ones who know about them are Charles, Logan and Fernando. Charles because Carlos is his teammate and it’s his fault (and Arthur’s) that they met. Logan because he’s Oscar’s best friend and knows him more than anybody else. And Fernando because him and Mark are like Oscar’s grid parents, and he knows Carlos too well, so he knew something was up (it’s not because he found them making out after Oscar revealed his contract with McLaren. Not at all.)

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9. Chatfic with Nico R. as Oscar’s adoptive brother (but more like a father figure) and Lewis as the “fun brother” (also Oscar’s father figure). And both of them panicking after Oscar starts to get the attention from different drivers.

Brocedes fixing their shit because they can hate each other, try to kill each other, but they will never allow their (son) sibling to be in a relationship with another driver. They know how messy that goes.

(Of course, Carcar is the endgame ship here)

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10. Modern Royal Prince! Oscar and just some guy Carlos. Carlos is just some guy how knocked up Prince Oscar (they were already together) so now he needs to show everyone he’s worth of being Oscar’s future husband.

(Carlos knew Oscar was a Prince but he thought it was a joke. That’s why he’s not mad with Oscar but with himself)

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11. Past lives AU. (Thanks to @carcarpodium)

Oscar and Carlos, always different lives, always different people. They are not lovers, never were. But they always cross paths somehow and Oscar is the only one how knows they do. He can feel Carlos’ presence when they are about to meet, so Oscar always know when he is back into his life.

People would call them soulmates. Oscar prefers to say they’re two dudes bumping into each other’s lives once per life. Of course, he doesn’t want to call what they don’t have like that.

Because Oscar always feeling when Carlos dies, he’s always at the scene, but never able to save him. Not even driving as fast as a plane can Oscar save Carlos. And he’s there, and he is always the first one to know, and how can he act like nothing if his heart is broken every time he sees Carlos die and someone dear to Oscar crying for him?

This life is no different, Oscar can feel him, all his emotions and thoughts are there for Oscar, but instead of letting him go, he decides to change things.

Oscar learns how to make Carlos feel better (using Lando or Charles at the start, because they’re not friends, but Oscar wants to make Carlos feel better all the time), and then Miami happens, and Oscar can feel Carlos wants to apologize but they’re not friends, so he doesn’t know how. So, Oscar is the one who does the first move.

This idea includes Senior mentoring Oscar so he understands this “power” and how to use it to protect Carlos.

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12. Carcar fluffy wedding AU. (This idea came to me thanks to @drsbutmakeitspicy )

Oscar asking the whole Sainz family for their blessing so he can propose Carlos first, because he knows Carlos will do it in a big fancy restaurant and will get down on his knee in the middle of it, capturing everyone’s attention. And he wants something private, only for them.

Then, after Oscar has their blessings, they have a family reunion with both families in the Sainz family’s farm and Carlos is unaware of what is going to happen because Hattie keeps showing him photos of baby Oscar.

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13. Carcar reading Carcar fics (I made two posts about this idea, so you can read more here and here.)

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14. Body swap Carcar (this was a collaborate idea with @drsbutmakeitspicy too)

Carlos and Oscar are rivals but are also in a situationship after Spa 2023. But the swap doesn’t happen until after Miami and they have 1 week before the next race (Imola).

While they are trying to change back both start exploring their new bodies and lives, trying to find something to use against the other. Because they can be a lot of things, but are rivals hungry for a win first and lovers/FwB/situationship second.

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15. Fem Singer!Oscar and Driver Carlos.

Oscar was a karting driver and got into England following that dream, but has an accident during a kart race and due to the injuries she cannot drive again.

In the middle of her pain she starts to play music, someone records her and she becomes popular really quick. So she decides to follow this new passion.

She invites Logan to one of her concerts and he brings Alex, who brings Lando and George, and Lando brings Carlos. And when they meet it’s like there was so much magnetism in the air. But then they say something that makes the other mad and they fight.

But destiny keeps bringing them together.

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16. Greek God! Oscar and Demigod Carlos forced marriage. (Have a longer post about this one, you can read it here.)

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17. Sad Mpreg One-Night-Stand Carcar

They had a one night stand and Carlos left before Oscar woke up. And when Oscar tried to talk to him Carlos acted like nothing happened between them, so Oscar goes away.

Then, Oscar feels sick during one of Logan’s visits when there’s no Indy race and they go to the doctor. They discover Oscar is pregnant and Logan has to promise he will not say anything to Carlos until Oscar is ready (if he ever is)

Then, during the Spanish GP (yes, it’s intentionally there) Oscar loses control of his car and has a bad crash. They take him to the hospital but some hours later the Australian is dead.

After the funeral Logan has a meltdown because he hears Carlos saying something to Lando about Oscar. He’s so mad with the Spaniard. His anger is not related to his lost seat or anything related jealousy. It’s related to his friend, his brother, his everything but lover. This is about Oscar’s sadness and heartbreak. About the nephew or niece Logan will never meet.

(This one has a good ending, believe me)

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18. Carlos as webbonso’s kid, being jealous of his father’s new favorite kid, Oscar.

Carlos was always closer to Nano, it was part of him and his favoritism for Spain. But, when Mark brought Oscar to the house, Carlos lost it. Why this kid was trying to take his father away from him!?

Meanwhile, Oscar is panicking, because “what do you mean the handsome guy I met years ago in Australia, who (by the way) was my bi awakening, is my boss’ son?!”

Featuring Logan as the worst best friend “So, instead of taking Mark’s offering of becoming his son, you can marry his son and become his son-in-law. Foolproof plan”

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I have more, but for now this are the ones shared. When the right time comes, I’ll do a poll to see which fic you want to read first.

#carcar #5581 #formula 1 rpf #carloscar #oscarlos #carlos sainz x oscar piastri

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anika-ann · 8 days ago

Text

Take the Ache - pt.1

Part 1: The Us in Trust (gone)

Type: series, slightly canon-divergent, idiots in love with sprinkles of angst

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 4700

Summary (series): An Avengers’ ally, a brilliant weapons designer, one of the closest friends to Steve Rogers; you’ve been carrying all these titles with pride. And now it seems they are all crumbling down at once, torn down by allies, enemies and by yourself.

How can you fix it? How can you win when your traitorous heart fights for what you’d always wanted and never had?

If you work hard enough, you can do justice to the word 'hero' in your codename. Maybe. But can you really be enough to take the 'ache' from heartbreak?

Series masterlist

Warnings: allusions to slightly self-destructive behaviour, mild pain, minor injury, self-doubt, mention of death

A/N: written for Stella’s Starry Winter Sky challenge; DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; this prologue is a flashfoward and is very short, especially on my scale; title is, just like chapter titles, taken from The Script’s No Good in Goodbye

A/N 2: No use of Y/N. Main character's nickname made up by Steve is 'Lo (will be expalined at some point, promise)

This feeling – this absurdly heavy sensation in your chest and stomach – was killing you.

It was nothing short of suffocating – and that fact alone was even more absurd and defied all science there was.

Because it shouldn’t feel like this.

It could be unpleasant, yes, but it shouldn’t feel like your ribs were being crushed, a phantom of debilitating pain you knew wasn’t really there. And yet it was.

Your knuckles ached. Hurt. Stang. You suspected that was the courtesy of you having wrapped the tape around your hands wrong; but you weren’t exactly an expert and you had no patience to watch a video, nor the heart to try and remember the details Steve had so gently taught you. Mainly because it was his fault that you were here in the first place.

It was her fault.

You punched the bag again and again, focusing on the sting to help you disperse the memory of Steve very carefully laying his hands on your hips to lead your movements during punches, because the key to having a mean right and left hook was the impulse for the punch coming with the slight rotation of the hips. Even Steve did so to create the explosive power behind his punches, despite his arms being ten times stronger than yours and the size of goddamn bowling balls, the muscles of his arms threaded by the supersoldier serum.

Now, you punched the bag purposely without that rotation as to out of spite; unfortunately, you also miscalculated the power behind the hit as well as the angle of the impact, and failed to properly tighten your hand in the wrist, resulting in a sharp jolt of pain all the way up to your elbow.

You hissed and shook the hand, taking a few breaths before you kept going; this time mindful of clenching hard enough. At least you hoped you did.

After all, you couldn’t quite tell; you were no expert.

That was the problem to begin with – you weren’t skilled at combat. You didn’t need to be, because you weren’t an agent. Steve had been kind enough to teach you, because he had wanted you to be able to defend yourself at least a bit just in case he wasn’t around.

At the time, you hadn’t found it insulting. In fact, you had found it charming. You had turned almost starry-eyed at the fact that he cared that much, the sincerity and worry in his gaze, along with an almost palpable enthusiasm, perhaps born from being able to teach you something and even show off in front of you.

You had been wrong.

You were a smart woman, but apparently, you were also an idiot.

An idiot who could never match the expectations one of your closest friend had for his future partner. That was, if you could even still call Steve a close friend, when the amount of time you had spent together lately was decreasing at alarming pace.

The thought of losing the bond with him stung much sharper than the microcracks to your skin under your wraps, bringing frustrating tears into your eyes.

With a lovechild of a huff and a growl, you hit the bag harder; and you almost wished you could give yourself a real reason –a physically painful reason – to cry.

But wasn’t the loss of a dear friend a good enough reason? Mourning the loss of shy hope? Wasn’t anger, eating you alive, good enough either? Because you were angry. So damn angry.

At yourself.

At Steve.

At Sharon.

She had simply walked in in her badass agent attire, perfect hair and light touch of make-up accentuating her natural beauty, all lean and gentle curves and the perfect brains and her stupid last name and went and stomped on your hopes like they meant nothing.

You huffed again and dropped your hands, wiping away the sweat at your brow, inhaling and exhaling before you gritted your teeth and hit the bag again.

It was wrong of you to think that way, you knew. It was incredibly unfair.

But you really did dislike the woman, as much as she didn’t deserve it.

And that might have been the worst part; Sharon didn’t deserve even a lick of your antipathy.

She was one of the most likeable people you had ever met. She had that magnetic personality and looks of a woman who attracted anyone in her vicinity with her kindness and smiles and brilliance and courage and skill. And while it was true that Steve was a supersoldier, he was also only human. He was only a man. You couldn’t blame him for falling for her, for spending so much time with her, be it at work and outside of it. The whole team was, too, even if there were probably less than romantic feelings involved than in the former case. Again, you couldn’t blame the team; and not only because Sharon sure as hell made for a better company that you did these days.

Hell, had your heart not belonged to another already, you would have probably fallen in love with her too.

And boy, was she was around too much for anyone to resist her pull.

She was around a lot.

Ever since the joined operation of SHIELD and the Avengers Initiative to take down a rogue fraction of former HYDRA had started, Sharon practically moved in to the compound, simply for the convenience of not having to commute and rushing in here whenever the team found a new lead. In fact, with her knowledge, experience and skill, she was an indispensable part of the very team. And they were always planning, discussing different angles, gathering intel, training so they could coordinate their attacks better. She was basically a new Avenger at this point, deservedly so.

And what were you?

A scientist. A weaponry designer.

You tried your best to keep the team safe, yes, to give them what they needed so they could continue saving the world, but you were technically nothing but a glorified lab rat.

Sharon Carter, the legendary Agent 13 on the other hand? She was out there. With Steve. And with others. She truly had their back. Kicking ass and probably looking flawless while doing so, Lara Croft style.

You weren’t unfit, but you could never keep up; let alone measure up. Compared to her, you were but A. Pathetic. Little. Human. With. A. Lame. Right. Hook. There was barely any power behind your hits.

And you knew that you were being mean and were exaggerating and that you were viewing her and yourself through the lens of jealousy and frustration and hurt, but that didn’t change the fact that all these things were true and you were feeling nauseous whenever you saw her face or god forbid her and Steve in the same room.

Shaking your head again, you continued punching, breaths coming out heavy and ragged, a courtesy of your work-out and your work-out only; it had nothing to do with the suffocating feeling of the crashed hopes you had been trying to push away when you had thrown yourself into work consuming you.

Nothing at all.

“Hey you,” sounded from behind your left shoulder without warning, causing you to waver, your hand slipping along the bag with your wrist bent, another jolt of pain riding up your forearm.

You turned on your heels with a hiss, heart thundering in your ribcage at the fright – and at the fact that your thoughts of Steve might have actually summoned him:

Summoned him to stand there in all his glory, white tee and grey sweats and trainers, with worry etched into his brows as he immediately went to inspect your left hand without as much as a greeting at your part, a murmured sorry on his lips.

You swallowed hard, unable to speak a single word.

He was beautiful. He was such a ridiculously beautiful human being, inside and out, his fingers tender as they cradled your slightly achy wrist attentively, gaze meeting yours with another wordless apology.

You had almost forgot how your heart stumbled whenever you saw him, how the slightest hint of his smile could take your breath away.

You had almost forgotten because you had been trying your best to avoid him, to avoid the heartache that came with knowing he wasn’t and would never be yours, the knowledge solidified by his absence you too might have had a hand in but regretted it all the same.

But he had started it. He had replaced you. He-

-was talking to you, apparently.

“’Lo? Are you okay?”

“Hm?”

You dropped your hand from his as if he burned you by speaking the special nickname only he was allowed to call you, the soft sound bringing a smile to your lips automatically. He wouldn’t even have to address you, however; your lips acted on their own volition whenever, ache or not, because Steve made you smile. And for all your stubbornness, your chest still felt lighter at merely seeing him even now.

That was what being in love with him felt like.

It was an evil juxtaposition; wishing to be in his soothing company, unable to get enough, and despising it at the same time because of the feelings that had so inconveniently took your heart by a storm.

It was a dilemma in which self-prescribed isolation until you’d settle your foolish heart seemed like the best option – that was, until his eyes roamed your face with concern and all the work you had put into stomping on the fluttery sensation in your chest upon seeing him looking at you like that turned into nothingness, denying the basic law of physics.

You knew there was a way out of this inner turmoil; you knew were being childishly angry and that acknowledging that was the first step.

You knew that eventually you’d come to terms with Steve being with Sharon, because ultimately, you wished him all the happiness in the world.

You knew you’d learn to live with the fact that the happiness simply wasn’t with you and you’d make your peace with you and him remaining good friends.

It was just not quite the time yet.

And until then, you’d have a hurricane in your ribcage and an earthquake in your mind whenever you’d see him, affection and animosity rising and falling like a tide.

You cleared your throat, brought back to the reality by the sound of your name.

“I’m fine, Steve. I don’t even feel it anymore.”

“I’m glad,” he said, an apologetic smile on his lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know. It’s okay. I just didn’t hear you,” you admitted. “Got lost in my thoughts.”

“A new brilliant invention in the works then?”

You chuckled, the light-hearted question taking you by too much surprise to hide the bitterness in the sound, and reached for your water bottle.

“Sure. That.”

You took a swing from the bottle, the cool liquid soothing to both your throat and your nerves.

You never used to be nervous around Steve – not like this. There had never been molecules of charged with awkward energy, not this much at least; whatever nerves you used to be feeling always tasted more of giddiness and content deep within your soul.

Funny how quickly things could change when certain blonde strode into your lives.

But you couldn’t blame Sharon. You shouldn’t blame her, because she was just a correlation, but the cause. Sharon or not, Steve would have made a move ages ago if he had been interested and you, you could have tried to make a move too, had you had the courage and truly believed the probabilities he had wanted you to be more than friends with him were high. But you hadn’t.

You still didn’t.

No question of that nature from neither you nor Steve. Because Steve had been waiting for the right partner as he had always been saying and that partner wasn’t you and now, she finally showed up and occupied an unhealthy childishly large portion of your brain no matter how much you tried to shush that green monster living in your head and eating up your heart.

A new brilliant invention, Steve said. How about something to make jealousy settle? Maybe you should start working on that, it would be a hit. Or perhaps you could work on some kind of a shield to hide yourself from Steve’s softly inquisitive gaze – like the one he was watching you with now – that had always made you fold and reveal your cards, no matter how close to the chest you had planned to play them.

He had no damn right to stand there, head slightly tilted to side, brows furrowed with concern, making your stomach clench, sending your pulse fluttering. Not when he-

“Is everything okay? I feel like we’ve been like ships that pass in the night lately…”

I’m surprised you noticed, you thought bitterly, instantly chastising yourself for that unfairly aggressive note, swallowing the venom of the words forming on your tongue. You shrugged instead.

“We’ve been busy. With the HYDRA fraction popping up… we both have our plates full.”

“Never stopped us from making time for each other before,” he whispered, insistent, his lips pursed slightly in thought, the same focus he directed on the world around him when he was either strategizing or wondering how he could capture the image in front of him on paper evident on his face.

Being on the receiving end of that look of his used to be a privilege; now, it was what you imagined being stabbed in the gut felt like. With a twist of the knife added for good measure.

Never stopped us before, he said.

‘Before’, you weren’t crushing if not in love with your fellow ridiculously charming agent, you thought, hiding the remark behind another shrug.

“Yeah, well-“

Your voice died in your throat as Steve’s fingers sprawled gently over your forearm, effectively stopping you in your tracks before you could turn away to move onto stretching, trapping you in the bottomless sea of the unfairly tender emotion in his irises.

“I miss you.”

Your throat closed up as the words echoing the very same sentiment got stuck there, your heart now hammering painfully against your ribs and sternum.

Yeah. You missed him too.

His warmth, his kindness, his vulnerability, the quiet way he seemed to understand you without words.

Of all the Avengers, as much as you liked them every single one of them, Steve was your favourite; and it wasn’t merely the attraction and the different nature of your affection for him. It was simply because it was Steve with whom you had formed a unique bond.

Getting along with Tony was easy despite him not being the easiest person to befriend; your shared interests and your more-than-common goal and expertise worked in your favour, your job as his right hand as well as working on your independent projects for the Avengers providing you with hours spent together without any forced interactions. Not to mention the role Tony’s excentric nature played; once he decided to figuratively adopt someone into his circle, you were just there.

Natasha, while intimidating, had the enormous advantage of being a woman. The platonic mother and sister to the team safe Bucky whose feelings for her were everything but platonic, she had an innate ability to convey her feelings about boys driving her crazy in a single glare, whether it was aimed at them to make them realize the absurdity of their behaviour or at you in silent sympathy. While you and her alike did not enjoy being in a room overflowing with oestrogen-driven creatures, you were a solace to each other when the room reeked of testosterone.

Bruce, on the other hand, had the same advantage as Tony. While his focus in science was slightly different than yours – even though between the number of his PhDs and other titles, it was hard to tell which was his main field – he was a relatively comfortable person to spend time with, at least in the lab, where you could either cooperate or stay out of each other’s way.

If Tony’s adoption figurative rights concerned his professional inner circle, Clint’s were more literal. He was the fun uncle, sometimes with ridiculous habits and antics, but whose wisdom could take one by surprise. Having seen all he had in his life, he appreciated simple things, simple friendships; and his aiming skill was as deadly with a bow or a gun as it was with well-meant advice or jokes.

Thor… well. Thor was a whole another species, someone you hadn’t had much chance to interact with; but the opportunities you had had, were nothing short of pleasant and bewildering, his boisterous nature reminding you of extroverts who simply found the most introverted person in the room and made them the centre of attention and their friend, whether they liked it or not. Those less-than-social people, you, in this scenario, would always end up enjoying themselves eventually; and you had to admit that much like Clint, Thor had a knack for cracking not only thunder, but also wisdom one often forgot he possessed.

Bucky was a person haunted by demons who sharpened his fists and tongue alike. A partially reformed ladies’ man who had seen way too much evil during his relatively short life and had been forced to commit almost half of that evil, he was a surprising wild card of the team. He was deadly – on battlefield, in training, in personal life, n verbal sparring with Sam. He’d die for his people and would live for them all the same. He was a storm; a slightly unpredictable force Natasha knew how to navigate, almost as good as Bucky himself did. Oftentimes you weren’t sure what you and Bucky were, whether you were friends or not but the fact alone that you were – or had been – close to Steve earned you his respect and care. The fact you could work on his mechanical arm helped too.

Sam’s warm energy and his innate ability to make people around him comfortable made him a natural friendship material – not to mention his utter fascination with the things you could do to improve his favourite robotic buddy Redwing. From TV and music and books to the mysteries of life, he was, in a way, an opposite to Steve. Where Steve and you seemed to understand each other without as much as a single word, with Sam, it was through words.

And Steve… well. ‘Special’ was not enough of a word to encompass the complexity of him and all the ways in which he was exceptional, as an entity and to you. Politely inviting from the start, assuming the responsibility of the unofficial team leader and official strategist, he had clearly worked to make you feel comfortable and welcomed, even as you were more of an Avenger-adjacent employee than anything else. However, the true bond had been forged in quiet moments and through similarities and contradictions of your pair.

Like a pair of twins, you both carried around a sketchbook or a notebook with a pencil, almost without fail. But where you drew designs of ideas suddenly born in your head, only to make them into reality later, Steve did the opposite; he drew what already was reality laid in front of him, only to bring it alive on paper for the second time, capturing it so vividly you were certain it would rise from the page any moment. Where your specialty were inanimate objects, his was people. The number of times that found you in the common room when you couldn’t sleep, ending with both of you lounging on the couch, often touching in an inconspicuous but reassuring and encouraging ways, were next to astronomical.

The second experience you bonded over, however, was much darker – but perhaps brought you even closer. To a point, you shared it with all the Avengers, with all your close friends; but there was something about the way you could relate to Steve so profoundly and vice versa that solidified your relationship with him in particular.

You both wanted to help people. And despite doing your best, you did so in ways that sometimes made you lose sleep, good intentions tainted with violence. You did help; and to do so, you hurt. Steve with his impeccable strategy and iron-solid fists; you with the weapons you designed. And when that darkness crept in too close, so close it seemed to come from within, you found each other; you shared each other’s light and reminded one another that violence was never your primary purpose and was but a momentary means for future tenderness.

Where you struggled to grant yourself the same benefit of doubt on your own, you never had doubts about him; with Steve, it rang true. Not a soldier, not an usurper; a protector’s soul. As much as you tried to convince yourself that what you were made of the same thing, that you were merely protecting your teammates and other people from much more merciless displays of power, in the cold space of your room and workshop, it wasn’t always enough for you to believe. Being with Steve – spending time with Steve – always made you a believer.

Even now, with his cerulean eyes still observing you, the ugly feeling brewing in your gut – the jealously, the envy – felt so much more tender and much less evil, his touch grounding you and wordlessly whispering a plea to cut yourself some slack and allow yourself to feel whatever your heart thrummed with.

“You spaced out for a bit… feels like you’re always miles away,” he said, his thumb pressing softly into your forearm. “Miles away from here, but from me too. And I can’t help but wonder… did I do something to wrong? Offended you or hurt you? If I did it wasn’t my intention.”

Your breath caught in your throat, alarm bells ringing in your head as you tried to gather your thoughts and get your expression under control as not to give him any hints, even as your mind spoke of the things he had or hadn’t done so painfully clearly.

You exist. You exist and you are happy, just as happy without me as you were when I was by your side, as a friend, a mere friend with silly hopes-

You had to stop with these thoughts. That was not on him. Not really.

Pushing you to backburner because of loving someone else was barely something you could hold against him. Friends didn’t do that to each other, but you were also aware half of the distance put between you was on you and at your attempts to deal with your own feelings.

You sighed, willing the corners of your lips to rise reassuringly as you squeezed his hand on you before escaping his hold, pretending you didn’t feel as if he had had drawn his mark on your skin in ink for you to remember.

“You didn’t.”

“Did something happen then?” he pressed, the protective note that always made your heart race finding its way into his voice, enticing you to tell him everything and let him make it okay. Except he couldn’t. No one but you could. “Are you-“

“It’s nothing, Steve. You… don’t worry about it. I just got a little busy at work,” you said, his expression speaking volumes about how much he knew that was a lie – or at least a half-truth and the goddamn genuine interest written all over his face made it so hard to think straight and resist- “I’m just--- working through something.”

His shoulders slumped, a barely-there movement to his hand as if he was about to reach out again. And you couldn’t bear it.

“And I need space to deal with it. On my own. Alone,” you added, willing yourself to raise your chin as to show you were determined to do it so.

Something flickered over Steve’s face, a quick emotion you didn’t get a chance to decipher as the door to the gym opened, drawing Steve’s eyes on instinct and yours as well.

The determination to resist Steve’s inquiries with a straight face skyrocketed in an instant, a jab to your gut making you strung like a bowstring in preparation for another hit. Because you would be prepared for that hit. And you would not be hurt nor shaken by Steve’s attempts to get in; for you to find peace for now, you needed to keep him out, at least at arm’s length.

The second and a half that took him to turn back to you was enough for you to steel your heart, a shield having gone up against his expression of concern and unfair gentleness wrapped in an intimately low voice.

“Okay. But if you ever-“

“It’s not your job to worry about me, Steve,” you cut him off, so sharply it made him actually flinch the tinniest bit, the emotion on his face clear this time.

Hurt.

He set his jaw tight despite the regret in his eyes, a courteous nod telling you just how deep that tone and words cut.

You hated yourself for putting that expression on his face; something heavy and solid, a wall you yourself had built appeared between you, blocking his attempt to reach out, and now, he had added his own side to it.

And if you kept going like this, that wall would cut him off from your life completely.

You gulped as the idea made something visceral in your bleed.

“I mean… I know you feel responsible for the whole team, Steve,” you said, this time mindful of your tone. “I just know you have enough things to worry about. And, uhm, Sharon’s waiting for you.” Your encouraging smile must have tuned into a grimace, but Steve didn’t mention it, the tension in his jaw easing just the slightest bit at the mention of his beloved. Of course it did. Your caricature of a smile hurt your cheeks. “Thank you for worrying about me, Steve, but I have to deal with this on my own. I’ll be fine. But I promise I’ll make space for my friend in my busy schedule, yeah?”

Now that brought a small smile on his lips, a little sparkle of almost-joy lighting up his eyes – and your heart ached.

“I’ll clear up mine… take care of yourself, ‘Lo, alright?”

“Aye aye, Captain. Have fun.”

He gave you one last smile before turning on his heels, jogging to Sharon. You held your face long enough for neither of them to see when your own smile slipped.

You left the gym not five minutes later, irritated with how their warm up – her warm up – naturally was three times more impressive than your whole work-out, your gloomy thoughts back like a seasonal cold.

You didn’t notice Steve’s lingering gaze as you walked away without as much as a goodbye, a sharp icy feeling settling in his already tight chest. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew you had been avoiding him. And you were hurting, your mind preoccupied with something; something you didn’t trust him with. Didn’t trust him enough to let him help you, to comfort you.

Seeing you walk away from the space he had barely just entered felt like letting you walk away from his life. It felt like losing you.

But he was not giving up without a fight.

He swore to himself he was done not pushing, ready to confront you the moment an opportunity would arise or was created by him.

He never got the chance.

With FRIDAY noticing a chatter about gathering forced in one of a few remaining bases of operations of HYDRA, all he got was your brief be careful addressed to the whole team.

Had he died on that mission, he’d die wondering if the words you had always took time to tell him and only him in person still applied and if you still truly cared whether he came back or not.

Next chapter // Series masterlist

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

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carminecherry · 5 months ago

Text

OUTPACE THE DAWN | mikey sano

this is part three of the series kill the lights

⇝ PAIRING: timeskip!biker!mikey sano x fem!reader

⇝ SERIES SYNOPSIS: after moving by yourself to tokyo, you black out at a party and wake up with a new friend. as she sweeps you up in her fast-paced city life, you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper for her mysterious brother. but something dark is brewing in the city. as his past threatens to resurface, mikey must fight not only physical enemies but the mental battle of his feelings for you. he can't resist you , but could he ever forgive himself if something happened to you? he'll love you selfishly and protect you savagely.

⇝ PART THREE LENGTH: 1.5k words

⇝ PART THREE WARNINGS: NSFW (18+ minors do not interact):

all characters are 20+; Alternate Universe! Canon Divergent. a friend from university invites you to his house party. as the drinks flow, you slip into a pleasant buzz. that is until a particular masked man makes his appearance, unveiling himself.

⇝ AUTHOR'S NOTE: a short chapter with a little spice at the end ;) more chapters coming soon! keep an eye on the tags and stay safe! <3

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING THE READMORE, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT.

You’ve always been a bit of an adrenaline junkie, ever since you were a kid. Roller coasters, laser tag, haunted houses, you chased that rush. As you clung to Mikey’s back, you felt that rush again for the first time in a very long time. That electric shock and the warmth that followed. You couldn’t hold back a howling laugh. The one you usually save for the steepest drops of a coaster. Your smile stretched from ear to ear and you felt the shoulders of the man in front of you bounce, his voice joining yours in an exuberant shout.

His golden hair ripples in the wind. He revved the engine to your delight, feeling it course through you. Caution be damned. He wove through the cars on the street like a bolt of black lightning. Mikey threading the needle between the vehicles. Now he’s just showing off. All too soon you were at your destination.

He pulled the bike up to the corner, killing the engine. He gives your arms a rub, signaling for you to let go. You didn’t realize you were still clinging to him in a bruising grip. You peel yourself from him and swing yourself off the bike, still riding the wave of adrenaline. You whipped off your helmet and flashed Mikey a Cheshire smile. “That was so FUCKING cool!” You exclaimed, grasping for words to describe your feelings. “I mean- I mean! You’re seriously insane! Those moves on the highway were unreal. UHG! SO. Cool” You gushed with the compliments, alcohol and adrenaline taking over your voicebox.

The man gave no reaction but you saw he wouldn’t meet your eye. “It’s like I’ve been doing it since middle school, huh? Believe me now?” You nod enthusiastically. He huffs, seemingly not used to the praise. He swings his leg over the bike, rising and stretching. You’d almost forgotten your height difference. He rubbed his side and with sarcasm remarked, “I think you cracked a rib.” “ Ha ha . Even if I did, you can only blame your crazy driving. I thought you were trying to throw me off. I was hanging on for dear life.” You feign anguish dramatically before playfully punching him in the chest.

“Oh god! Another rib!” He doubled over comically. You laugh, “I’m coming for your kneecaps next if you don’t stop messing with me.” He straightened, His crooked smile making its second appearance of the night. “Seriously, thanks for the ride” You say, looking away, not trusting yourself to not blush.

You looked down the street, your apartment about a block away, tucked behind some trees. He follows your gaze. “Let me get you home safely.” He offers. “No, really, it’s okay. I appreciate the ride.” You say, shaking your head. “Seriously, you were a lifesaver tonight.” He nods, mounting his bike. You hand him back the helmet which he stows. “Next time I’ll teach you three more things about bikes.” He jokes, leaning forward on the handlebars. “Next time?” You smile. “I’d like that.”

With that you make your way down the dark street. You feel his eyes on you, but they are comforting this time. You feel safe as you round the corner and make your way into your apartment. As if on cue, the moment you click your lock into place you hear a bike engine roar to life. The sound fades to nothing and you collapse into your bed. The night's events replayed in your mind. A big smile still plastered on your face. You slip into a dream-filled sleep, still in your party clothes.

***

You feel fuzzy. Looking forward you see the broad shoulders and golden locks of the man seated in front of you. The translucent shirt draped sinfully across his back. You give him a squeeze, pulling your body closer to his. It’s warm when you rest your cheek in the space between his shoulder blades. You breathe in, it’s sweet and heavy like leather and toffee.

Sitting there, melting into the heat of his body is soothing. He hums, you feel it vibrate through his back. You bring a hand up to rest on his chest. You feel the pounding of his heart beneath. Fluttering ever faster under your touch. He leans into your touch. You smile into his back. As if feeling this, he groans. Deep and low. You place a light kiss over his shoulder blade. His breathing picks up, the places where your bodies meet growing warmer. You feel it too, the impulse taking over, rational thought leaving your brain.

You flatten your other hand on his stomach, feeling the definition there. You trace the shape, the places that dip in his lean core with your fingertips. The silky material glides between your touch and his skin. He twitches. Surely your feather-soft touch tickles. You continue, committing every muscle to memory. He groans again, the sound rising at the end.

“Please.” He says quietly. “Hm?” you hum into his back inquisitive if not a bit teasing. “Please. I want… I need you to…” You pause your strokes over his midsection, his breath catching. “Come on, Mikey. I need you to ask me properly.” You say into his back lazily, planting a kiss to punctuate your statement. He holds back a whine, the corner of your mouth ticks up. You feel warmth pooling in your lower stomach.

“Please… Touch me...” He says low, with an edge of desperation. A full smile tugs at your lips. “Good.” You kiss the meaty part of his back that joins his shoulder to his neck. You trail one of your fingers devilishly slow down the line between his abdominal muscles. Dragging it further down his lower stomach. You use your other finger to tease the sensitive spot on his chest through his shirt. The flesh rises quickly to a nub under your touch. You circle this sensitive bud with your fingernail. You feel the rise and fall as his breathing gets heavier with anticipation.

Toying with the button of his pants, finally popping it open after a few rotations. You tug the zipper of his dress pants down painfully slowly. He groans again as the zipper reaches its base. You palm him through the fabric of his underwear. You’re not surprised by how hard he is, but his size is more than you expected. When you palm him again, his breath hitches with a small moan that is quickly bitten back. You feel the hot, wet spot over his tip grow wetter. “Please.” He pleads.

You relent your teasing, giving him what he wants. Pulling down the waist band, allowing him to spring free of his confines. His breath shudders with the action. You touch him, the hot skin of his member is silky in your hand. You move around some of the liquid leaking from the tip, enjoying the sounds he makes as you do. You give him a full stroke.

He does his best to hold back as his whole body twitches. You stroke him again, and then again. His noises are getting louder. “Good girl, fuck ! Yeah, just like that babe.” You’re building up a pace and rhythm, his hips moving to meet your hand. Your head is swimming in thoughts of him, inhaling his scent deeply. “Wait… Wait, slow down.” He says breathily.

“Hm? So soon, Mikey? I thought you’d have more endurance. Are all those muscles just for show?” You love this, teasing him. He shudders again, you feel him throb in your hand. You slow your strokes but don’t stop. “Wait. Not yet.” He says. You remain silent, slowing but continuing your movement, testing the water. “I said wait.” With this, he removes his hands from the handlebars, grabbing your wrist.

You’re pulled from your seat behind him and swung around to his front. He catches you by your waist as he rights your position. You can’t complain about him manhandling you, he moves you easily, as if you’re weightless. In a matter of seconds, the two of you have switched positions. You straddle the seat, facing him. His pupils blown out, a flush across his cheeks. He’s beautiful. Before you can admire him further, he is pulling you into a bruising kiss. You let him, returning the kiss with equal intensity. His hands are up your shirt, massaging the soft flesh of your chest. You moan into the kiss.

You feel that handsome, crooked smile tug one corner of his mouth up. He finally breaks the kiss, moving his mouth down to the sensitive skin of your neck. He licks long, firm circles into that spot that makes your whole body clench up and melt at the same time. You can’t hold back the noises pouring from your mouth. You could feel yourself coming undone under his touch. You grind into the seat beneath you, trying to build friction in the place he’s neglecting. He hums into your neck in a teasing tone. What a bully.

#mikey sano x reader #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro x you #mikey x reader #Mikey Sano #Mikey Sano smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tr smut #tr x you #carminecherry fics

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