#trainers when necessary for them
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Some days I wish more people actually played Pokemon for the plot so there's incentive to improve on the plot's weak points
#this is just musings but I was thinking about how legends Arceus was like#the only time I felt emotion about a player character outside of them being me#if that makes sense#in a main series game hello explorers of sky#but yeah like the protagonists are such non-characters#I do think it's a flaw that people look at hop and Keiran and go 'why am I doing this I don't even want to be champion'#like other aspects are very strong! scarlet and Violet had such strong plots and for 2/3rds of the main plot line the protagonist did not#need to be there!#like it could have been any strong trainer#when Pokémon's story is good it tends to be because OTHER CHARACTERS have good arcs that are facilitated by the player beating other#trainers when necessary for them#why am I doing the gym challenge? idk? I'm supposed to if#I'm having trouble articulating what I want because I'm tired but I'd like to start with giving the player character a clear motivation#like akari/rei have it very simple: wanna go home#got amnesia#a side of solve the mystery#like that's all stuff you can get from the set up#and then it's never really resolved#so they're just like in limbo#but aside from that#why does the player want to be champion other than that's the thing you do#when you have a Pokémon and are playing a main series game
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I need people to understand that it is crucial to me that Bernard and Damian get along so well that it p#sses off the rest of the family, not all of them, but most of them.
Dick going ??? I raised you for like six months, we made progress :( and Damian and Bernard DENY THEY HAVE ANY BOND.
—
Dick: Little D! Wanna go to the zoo this weekend? I have some free time!
Damian: Apologies, Richard, but Timothy's superior half has already offered to take me, and I cannot change plans last second.
Dick: Are... Are you choosing Bernard over me!?
Damian: ??? No, he just asked first. Don't be so dramatic, Richard.
*Monday morning*
Dick, on the phone with Dami: So, I was thinking we could have a movie marathon Friday night! I'll be in town, all the rogues are locked up...
Damian: Hm, yes, as long as Timothy and Bernard don't have a date planned.
Dick: I... What?
Damian: I like to attend their dates.
Dick:
Damian: What is wrong?
—
Tim: BRUCE! Tell your developed fetus he can't third wheel my dates!
Bruce: Developed fe..? I won't question that. Damian, why are you... Third wheeling Tim's dates?
Damian: Bernard says I can go!
Tim: He said that once and you took it as permission to go every time you know we have a date. You stole my calendar!
Damian: Speaking of which, you have a business meeting across the country in a couple weeks. Will Bernard be attending?
Tim: SEE!?
Bruce: The parenting books didn't prepare me for this one...
—
Tim, coming home late at night after patrol, slipping into his and Bernard's bedroom, actually exhausted:
Bernard and Damian, pausing like deer in headlights:
Bernard, holding up a laptop that was explaining a conspiracy theory:
Damian, who was actively taking notes:
Tim: Did... Did I inhale fear toxin?
—
Damian: —AND MY TRAINER TOLD ME IT WAS "NECESSARY TO ACHIEVE GREATNESS"!?
Bernard, painting his nails: Ugh, I remember when this idiot at the cult said the same thing, like pain would unlock my true self????
Damian, blowing at the wet nail polish on one hand: Oh, please, this absolutely icarus said something similar, that I would not know how to inflict pain until I've felt it. Luckily my Mother beheaded her.
Bernard, capping the nail polish and pulling out the top coat: Damn, my Mom didn't even question it when I came home with bruises and s#it.
Damian: Most disappointing. Shall I have Oracle hack her search history and send it to her boss?
Bernard: I might take you up on that...
—
Damian: Pennyworth, may I assist you in the kitchen?
Alfred, taken aback but also desperate to teach one of these kids to cook: Of course, master Damian. May I ask what inspired you to take up the culinary arts?
Damian: Bernard.
Alfred:
Alfred: Lovely.
—
Tim and Bernard, making out on the couch as they do:
Damian, slipping inside their window:
Damian: GET A ROOM, YOU WILD RABBITS!
Tim: THIS IS MY BOAT! You're in MY LIVING ROOM!
Damian: Semantics. Bernard! I need assistance with studying for a chemistry mid term!
Bernard: Aren't you in a family of, like, super geniuses..?
Damian: One does not ask them for help with school work...
Tim, having flashbacks to asking Bruce, Dick, and Alfred for help with homework:
—
Tim: You wanna play DND?
Damian: Why is this so shocking?
Tim: Last time I brought it up you called me a benign tumor that caused you mild discomfort and every time I spoke to you I was more likely to be removed to rid you of the irritation.
Bernard: Hey, Dami! Ready to play? Tim got it all set up.
Damian: Yes! I finished the character sheet you sent me and researched several hours of information on how to play!
Bernard: Nice! Ready, Timboo?
Tim, eye twitching:
—
#batman#tim drake#batfam#dcu#dcu comics#dc#dc comics#bruce wayne#timbern#timber#tim drake x bernard dowd#bernard dowd#damian wayne#batfam shenanigans#batfam comics#batfamily#batfamily shenanigans#batfam incorrect quotes
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Impulse
male reader x Hanni & Danielle of Newjeans
5.8k words - it's quick and it's messy Masterlist
thank you @gangplanksorenji for inspiring
Another fucking day. Another fucking problem.
You have half a mind to throw the phone onto the floor, and it's all thanks to her. She refuses to make this easy for either of you—fighting tooth and nail for everything she can get. You're just happy there’s no kids involved.
The two of you never got that far.
Even getting married is a regret. You punch the toilet stall door in frustration before dropping your phone back into your pocket.
And to make things worse, admin just can't get your schedule right. So you have another hour to burn away and waste before the next set of students, who want to be there just as little as you do, spill through the door to your lecture hall.
You make your way back inside. Maybe you can waste some time grading papers.
"Girls? What are you two still doing here?" you ask as you close the lecture hall door behind you.
Danielle is the first to answer. "Well, we noticed you left your stuff behind, so we wanted to keep an eye on it for you."
"And well, you left in such a hurry, we want to make sure you are okay." Hanni follows up, approaching you with a concerned look on her face.
"Well thank you girls, but that's not necessary. Don't you have classes to get to?" You dismiss them. Even if it is a lie, you're not going to bore them with your home troubles. How do you tell anyone, more so your students, that your wife is busy banging her personal trainer?
"No sir, we're free for a whole hour now. And I don't know about Dani here, but I'm hoping to use this time for some hard studying."
Hanni's leaning on your desk as you're scooping up some papers into your bag. She has one hand placed on the back of the other, planted on the edge of the desk, and she's leaning forward. Add to that how she has conveniently not managed to fasten the top three buttons of her blouse and you have quite the sight. Dani is a couple of steps behind her, slowly making her way forward. You can see that she, too, is in no great rush to fully button her shirt.
"Well, I'm sure you girls know where the library is, now if you'll excuse me—"
"I really hope you don't mind, professor, but…" She shoots a quick glance back at Dani's over her shoulder and winks at her. "My best friend over here has some trouble understanding the material. Perhaps you wouldn't mind giving her a hand?"
"Yeah, sir, I really need it." Dani is pressing herself against Hanni, chest to back, and resting her chin on her shoulder. "Your material is really... hard." Hanni giggles a little at her friend and sways her ass back into her best friend, encouraging a giggle of her own. Both girls seem to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.
These two sweet things are painted in mischief, with their hands around each other, framing themselves as the duo that could keep you happy and fulfilled with round after round of stress-relieving sex.
Stop it. You can't do this.
"Ladies..." You begin to protest.
"We would be ever so grateful to you, sir. Isn't that right, Hanni?"
"So grateful."
"And believe me, we are very willing to learn." Dani slips her hand down Hanni's front, tucking it into the opening of her shirt. It's brazen and shameless. You shouldn't be watching, but you can't seem to pry your eyes away from what's happening. What's more, you can feel your cock swelling up at the sight of it.
"Ladies. I'm a professional and I would never—"
"Then why are you always staring, professor?" Hanni confronts you. "When I sit at the front and I catch you looking at my legs. And then I open them a little, and pull up my skirt for you..."
"You like her legs, professor?" Dani continues the barrage, pulling up the hem of Hanni's skirt. "You like to stare at them?"
"He always stares at them, and he thinks I don't notice." Hanni giggles softly.
"And I bet he goes home and thinks about your legs when he—"
"Girls. Enough." Your face is burning up and you know they see it.
"It's okay professor, I like it. I'm sure we have had some very similar thoughts about each other, actually." Hanni lowers her tone and you shift in place, tugging at your collar. When did it get this hot in here? She keeps talking, telling you: "When I go home and I lie on my bed, I lift up my skirt and spread my legs. I just wish you were over me. Pinning me down and—"
"Stop."
Dani can't hold back her gentle laughter. "What's wrong sir? You seem so stressed recently. I think this is—we are—exactly what you need." There's a soft whine in her voice, one that's cooing at you—enticing you.
Hanni starts to move and Dani slips away from her, freeing her from her grasp. Hanni puts one knee up on the desk between you, and then the other, and perches herself on it. It's enthralling for a multitude of reasons, but if anything, it's the sweet and eager smile on her face that's most alluring. Her soft voice gets your heart beating hard, "I don't want my favourite teacher to be stressed. You can do anything you like to me. Anything you want." You glance down at her and it might be those big brown eyes, or how she tucks a lock of her long hair behind her ear waiting for your answer, but you start to concede to the reality. Then your eyes fall. Further and further to that gap between her half-open blouse. She says please and her words take on a life of their own, fluttering right to your stiffening cock.
You want this. Maybe even need this.
"Miss Pham..." You trail off in failed protest. Dani rounds the table until she is stood by your side, she places a hand on your shoulder, which her face barely reaches. Her other hand brushes over your waist then to your belt and she wraps a finger around it, gently tugging you closer and saying, "so sir, how can we help relieve your stress?"
Fuck. Fuck it.
You reach out for Hanni, placing your hand on her cheek and she melts into your touch. You pull her to you and it's almost magnetic as you feel her lips pressing into yours and her tits pressing into your chest.
Kiss her. Kiss her slowly, and while it might look like she's innocent, deep down her lips are beginning to soak with desire, and you're kissing that into her. Her hands start to grab at your blazer, pulling herself closer to you and she lets out a moan into your mouth, and you return by brushing your tongue onto hers.
You run hands down her sides. She's so feminine and her body is trim and fit, small but plump in the right places. Further you touch until you’re going over her hips and to her ass. You tease her with a light rub before you grip firm at her soft, bare skin. She breaks the kiss as you do that, her breathy whine lets you know you're doing something right.
"Professor..." Hanni whispers to you, with lust on her tongue and in her eyes.
"Yes professor," Dani encourages. "She likes that. I like that."
Dani shifts behind you, pressing her lithe frame against you and wrapping her arms around your torso. She brings her hands down to your belt, clumsily trying to unbuckle it. Hanni slips her hands over your shoulders and tugs at your blazer. You shrug it off and then you slip off your tie, holding it in your hand.
Hanni whispers, "I have been naughty professor, staring at your cock during class." She brings her hand behind her ass, burying her fingers into the flesh. "Would you like to spank me?"
You bring your tie up to Hanni's neck, wrapping it around once, and then holding both ends in one hand. You twist the fabric around your fist, tightening the grip until you have full control of her. You pull your hand out the side, and Hanni fumbles and slides on the desk, knocking papers onto the floor. You have her where you want her—on all fours, side on, with her ass in the air.
You flip up her skirt, revealing her plump ass. The fabric of her panties pulled taut between her full cheeks. The skin begs to be marked.
Dani begs you to mark it. "Spank her sir," Dani whispers. "She's so bad. She needs a good spanking."
"Yes. I deserve it. Spank me, sir." Hanni hangs her head, submitting herself.
You pull tight on the tie, gently choking her, and then raise your other hand over her ass. You bring it down hard with a loud smack and Hanni hisses in pain. You only care to watch how the supple flesh gives way to your strike.
"Sir, I... I just—" Hanni loses her voice as you bring your hand down hard onto her again, giving her what Dani so eagerly begs for you to do. You lift your hand and deliver three hard, spanking strikes. Each time your hand comes crashing down on her ass, you pull on the tie and her body reels forward, and her hands scramble for purchase.
"Sir. I'm sorry. I was being naughty. Please, hurt me." With each hit, she apologises. But it's Dani's whimpered gasps that leave a warm stirring in your cock. This is getting her off as much as you. With all that bottled frustration inside you, the way Hanni writhes, and the eagerness from Dani, you really feel some kind of relief here. You give Hanni one more heavy spank, forcing an erotic whine of satisfaction from her that sends a twinge into your groin.
For all her fumbling, Dani finally springs your cock free from your underwear. She stays behind you, reaching her hands around to grab it. Her nimble fingers wrap around your stiff cock. As Hanni struggles to recover, you loosen the tie and Dani tries pumping up and down your shaft, stuttering in her awkward grip, and though somewhat sloppy, her youthful eagerness works its charm. And when Dani's delicate and feminine laughter tickles your ear with how much she's enjoying your cock, well, how can you complain?
You gently back away from the desk, pulling slightly at the tie like a leash and encouraging Hanni to follow you. You tug her upwards until she is back on her feet and then you lean into her ear, whispering, "on your knees."
She breaks out a soft whine, like a scolded dog being denied a toy. She shoots you back that puppy-dog expression, "but sir..." and you pull gently again on the tie. She drops to her knees, between you and the desk. "Well done. Good girls deserve rewards." You praise Hanni's obedience, but that grin on her lips means there is something deceitful buried in that submission.
Dani realises what's about to happen, stops rubbing your cock and steps to your side. She keeps one hand on it, guiding it as you step forward. Hanni's mouth falls open and her tongue wets her lips in anticipation.
Dani plays with your length against Hanni's lips. She rubs the tip of it up and down along the wet surface of her tongue. Hanni's nostrils flare and a warm breath flies over your wet tip as she gasps. She opens wide, waiting.
Dani hesitates, asking, "sir, I can't stop playing with it, it's so nice. May I lick it?"
"Let her lick it, sir," Hanni begs, keeping her mouth open, her pink tongue poking out. She adds: "Please."
"Let me taste your cock." Dani pleads and you nod to her, eyes sparkle, and her soft-painted lips part into a sweet smile.
Your tip rests tantalisingly against Hanni's lower lip. Her tongue occasionally brushes against it. Dani has dropped to her knees, leading with her tongue, and lapping a warm wet heat against your base and over your balls. Your tip pulses against the entrance of Hanni's mouth and you can feel the warm breath flowing over you again and again. Her breathing gets heavier, watching Dani work at your balls.
Hanni brings her lips together into a kiss, right on the tip. Another breathy kiss on the head, and then she drags her tongue along her lips, sticking it out and gliding her wet tongue along the underside of your stiff cock. You can't wait any longer. You push slightly and Dani realises, ducking out of the way so you can drive between Hanni's plump lips.
Both your hands find back of Hanni's head, your fingers getting knotted in her locks and your palms resting on her, and you slowly, gently, push her down on you.
You find a rhythm with your hips, slowly pumping into her lips. She relaxes into you, and she sucks and she laps her tongue against you. Dani watches in amazement. "How does she feel, professor?"
You grunt with satisfaction, affirming your pleasure with a moan and then Dani breaks back out into laughter, "I think she likes it too. Don't you Hanni?" Hanni nods as your slide in and out of her, but she never breaks the seal on your cock.
Dani continues teasing her friend, saying, "I think she likes sucking on it, I've always wanted to suck on professor's cock. I'm so jealous." Dani pulls open the buttons of her shirt. There's no bra underneath, and her perky little breasts are perfect. She slips her hand into her shirt to cup one of her little mounds. She brings two fingers into her mouth too, imitating Hanni. She wets two fingers with her lips and she then runs them over her plump nipple. Hanni hums around your cock, picking up on the encouragement.
"Dani." You grunt. For all your hesitation earlier, you're fully invested now and ready to bark your commands to your two playthings. "Get on my desk, spread for me." You add, "now." It's Hanni who flutters her eyes and pants a breathy moan around you, sounding her approval to your command. Dani, under your authority, obeys without question. She stands, climbs onto your table and perches her ass right in the centre and brings the heels of her feet up to the edge of the desk, either side of Hanni.
Dani pulls open her shirt, letting it fall off her shoulders. Revealing maybe the tightest body you've ever seen. Her button-up shirts usually did a good job of covering how slender her body was, but there had been times before—times when she probably did it on purpose—when she had worn a tight shirt that showed you a little more. That's how you always knew she had a slutty little waist. But seeing it bare, now? In all its toned glory? It's enough to drive you insane. Then your eyes hit her cute, dainty tits. Her nipples, as perky as her personality.
"Do you like my tits, professor?" Dani asks. You don't answer, just shifting your eyesight between the lust her body calls for and your cock sliding into Hanni's throat. Dani protests your distraction and she cups her tiny tits and pinches her pointed nipples. "Hey. I'm showing you, sir, look."
Again, no words for her. Just keep indulging. Keep savouring it. Slide in and out. Fuck Hanni's mouth until her throat can't take any more.
Dani pouts and she leans back. She spreads her legs open, hiking her skirt up to show you those black panties, and then her fingers rub across the fabric. She demands your attention. She has it, of course, but the silence is a game. A power play you can't help. But she is getting frustrated, pushing the fabric of her underwear to one side and slipping her fingers against herself.
Her pussy is pretty and pink. Small, tight and nestled between her spread thighs. She pulls open her wet lips, and her chest heaves and she asks, "what about my pussy, professor? My tight little cunt?" Dani speaks to you in that bratty, spoiled tone, desperate for your attention.
Hanni slips her lips off you with a pop. She's desperately chasing her breath, gasping for air. She wraps her hand around your slick, shiny cock. The glistening is her own work. You catch her looking up at you, her mascara is a little runny—a wet splash of black around her eyes—and her hair sticks to her damp skin. Her eyes pierce right into your soul, and you can tell how pleased she is that you want her like this. She gently strokes your length. "He wants you Dani, I can see it in his eyes."
Dani brings up her other hand, sinking a finger inside herself. "I want his cock. I want your long hard cock professor. Inside me. Please. Please, use my little cunt."
You glance down at Hanni. Do you make her feel less special now? You have a hard time pulling yourself from her; you'd love to cum all over her face but Dani demands your attention. The thought that this tight little pussy might finally satiate your frustrations and longing gets the better of you. You bring a hand under Hanni’s chin and guide her to her feet, letting your tie hang loose around her neck.
"I want you to watch. If you're good for me," you plant a soft kiss on Hanni's cheek, "then, after, I'll let you ride my cock."
"You promise?" Hanni gives you a wide-eyed and hopeful look.
You smile at her without a word, stepping past her and towards the spread and waiting Danielle. You place your hands on the inside of her thighs and you have to break out a smile when you feel her flesh burning under your touch. You pull her to the edge of the table until her ass is on the edge, and her body is ready for the taking.
You can't resist the feeling as you rub the swollen end of your cock between her folds. She whimpers, pushing her head back with each pass. "Professor." She whimpers. "Teach me. Teach me how to be a good little toy. I know my grades are bad but I'm gonna do better if you fill me with that big, hard cock of yours."
She's tighter than you ever could have imagined. Just the head and she's wincing. You groan back a similar whimper when the hot, clenching little cunt embraces the tip of your cock.
"Sir, I think you're too big for her." Hanni runs a hand through your hair.
"No!" Danielle refutes, instantly. "I can take it. I want it." She locks her stare with you, her defiance against her friend behind those watery eyes. Dani draws her bottom lip into her mouth as you draw deeper into her.
"How's it feel Dani?" Hanni asks, leaning over the desk by her side, before planting a few kisses to her exposed shoulders.
"Stretch—" Dani groans, struggling.
"Stretched by professor's big, hard dick." Hanni finishes the thought for her.
"Yeah," Dani manages as you push deeper.
Hanni is right there and is just too much to resist, bent over the desk with her skirt still pushed to her hips. Her red, swollen ass is on display. You can't even try to stop yourself. The glowing flesh taunting you.
You grab and you squeeze at her ass, digging your fingers into the wounded flesh. As Hanni is encouraging Dani, whispering soft words into her ear, you take a moment to spank her one more time. One heavy-handed slap against her ass and Hanni spits a grunt into Dani's ear.
There's not even a flinch as Dani's focus is on one thing only—you slowly fucking her tight cunt. You're driving your hips into her slowly, going deeper each time. Dani can't hold it in anymore, her soft mewling moans erupt into deeper, lustier vocalisations. Every gyration of her hips has a new feeling flowing into your cock. Hanni's hand snakes between the pair of you, finding her little clit and poking at it.
Dani collapses back against the desk and Hanni over her, tasting her body with soft kisses. It's back to her you shift your focus, slip her underwear off and let it fall to her ankles. You run your hand again over her stained flesh, this time driving towards her pussy as you do. That welcoming gap at the top of her thighs invites your fingers in. She is soaked. So beautifully aroused for you, and eager for the experience.
"Tell me how wet you are."
"Sir, I'm so wet," Hanni replies, punctuated by another giggle. "So wet for you, sir." She twists her head up and you run a finger over her pink slit, dipping the fingertip in and retrieving more wetness. She pushes back against your finger, desperate for you. So you curl two fingers into her and push deep into her heat.
"Yes. Fuck, yes." Hanni whimpers. A soft whine against Dani's skin.
With two girls beneath you now, them both whimpering in desperation, you pick up the pace and fuck harder into Dani. She braces her hands behind her against the table, hanging on. With the impact of your body crashing into her, her body shakes on the desk. Your thrusts cause Hanni's body to react too, you feel her pussy pulsing around your fingers and her soft whimpers slip into short, gasping breaths.
Your pelvis slaps into Dani's thighs over and over, and her legs tremble against you. Her elbows buckle. She fights a long and hard battle, but she's failing. "Sir. I'm gonna—" She can't even finish what she wants to say before her toes curl, her chest heaves, and she begins to tremble.
Hanni tells you the obvious between her hitched breaths, "she's cumming sir. Fuck, sir. You made Dani cum."
Dani lets go, she whimpers and moans with no shame and her body rides the wave of bliss. You slow and turn your attention to Hanni, breaking out your fingers. She quickly slips her hand behind and takes your fingers in hers, sliding them into her mouth, and swirling her tongue around them. You smile at her deviously. She smiles that innocent face back at you.
After a pause, Dani still squirming and spent beneath you, Hanni breaks from sucking on your fingers. "Can I ride your cock now, Sir?" She's so sweetly, sincerely, asking you for your permission.
Your tie still hangs loose over Hanni's neck, you reach for it and pull it taut once again. You step back, drawing your length out of Danielle and stepping back toward your chair. You're pulling Hanni along, giving her an answer unspoken. Hanni doesn't need any more persuasion than that. You tug slightly and she scrambles to her feet. As you're sitting, you give the tie another quick jerk, a playful little gesture and she tumbles to her knees once again.
"Sir..." she whispers, her eyes dark with a growing lust and burning hot with the rising urges. Hanni crawls towards you, stopping when she finds your thighs. Without hesitation, her fingers find your length. "I spent so many lectures watching you sitting here, just wishing I could play with your cock." She runs her hand up and down your length. You groan softly in response, encouraging her. "I would sit and stare. Did you ever notice?"
You smirk and think back. The thing is that you could never really tell. She was always staring as you taught, but it was never obvious that she was actually listening. Hanni never took notes; maybe the innocence in you just assumed she had a great memory. But the truth is so much more salacious than that. To think—to know—that all along this is what she had on her dirty little mind? Well, it's thrilling.
"Maybe," you play coy.
"These weeks have been excruciating. How could you make my pussy throb, and just ask me to sit and take notes? My hand was trembling and shaking, holding my pen, as I tried to come up with answers to your questions. The entire time I just kept hoping that you would drag me up here and have your way with me. You should have..." All the while she's been talking and unbuttoning her top fully then shrugging it off.
Hanni presses her chest forward against your shaft as she's perched over you, teasing you with the friction of her bra. "Hanni, all those short skirts you wore. Did you know that sometimes when I sat here I could see underneath them?" You can play this game too.
"Oh professor..." she giggles softly. "Do you know how wrong it is to look at your students like that?" For all this teasing on you checking her out, she still persists in undressing, unclasping her bra behind her and letting it fall to reveal her soft mounds. "Shame on you, professor." Hanni feigns a look of disgust that slowly melts into a beaming smile.
She strokes your length again, this time rubbing the tip of your cock, still stained in Dani's cum, against her nipples. "Do you remember last week, sir? When I had to get up and leave. I went to the bathroom and..." Hanni trails off, a little embarrassed. Your focus slips away and onto her delicate body, her perfect perky tits, and her gentle swaying movements as she pushes against you.
"You couldn't hold it in anymore. Could you Hanni?" She purses her lips and shakes her head slowly. "Tell me what you did."
"I ran into the bathroom, and slammed the stall door behind me." She guides your cock down between the soft pillows of her breasts. "And I leaned against the wall and slipped my hand inside my skirt and panties. And the throbbing was unbearable..." Hanni closes her eyes, moaning to herself as she tries to relive the moment in her mind. "I thought about you. Thought about doing this and..." she squeezes her breasts together, "and I came right there."
Dani slips off the table and comes towards you, perching on the arm of the chair. "She's not the only one, sir. Just last night I thought about you as I fucked my pillow." While Dani feeds you her fantasies, Hanni is still playing with your cock between her tits. It doesn't look like she ever wants to stop.
"Did you?" The slight hitch in your voice makes Dani's smile sparkle.
"Yes sir, and we're not the only girls who—"
Hanni shushes Dani with a quick scorn, and whatever confession she was about to make, Hanni stops her, "that's private Dani, don't go spoiling it for her."
Danielle laughs softly to herself. "Right, girls like secrets. Sorry, Sir, we can't say any more, but we will make it up to you, won't we Hanni?"
Hanni nods eagerly as she climbs up onto her feet. Danielle reaches over and pushes Hanni's skirt from her hips, leaving her finally, fully bare in front of you. You take a moment to admire while you can. You could bathe in the memory of Hanni, naked and brimming with desire.
It is the beauty of Hanni's body, yes, but even more, it's her gaze when she catches you admiring the sight. Such raw, unfiltered joy shines through her eyes. That is what gets you. The sweet, simple, pleasure she is enjoying is on display.
She steps over you and climbs onto your lap. She places both hands on your chest and leans into you. For a second you forget how to breathe; her face mere inches away from yours and those big, soulful eyes so dangerously deep. She kisses you softly, tender and careful. You're completely engulfed. Nothing else matters. Not the ungodly amount of work you have to do later tonight. Not tomorrow's damn tedious seminar session. Your focus now is Hanni and what she's about to do.
"Professor," she hums so sweetly in your ear, "I've been thinking about you all week. How much I want to ride your cock. Do you know how much I want it?" You slide your hands around her small, soft waist, grasping at the smooth surface of her back.
She holds your cock in one hand as she rises up on her knees, nestling herself over you. She looks you in the eye as she lowers onto you. You look back. You want to know what her reaction will be when you enter her. That is worth the wait.
There's that soft gasp. Tender. Breathless. Almost speechless.
"How does that feel?" Dani asks you, leaning into your ear, and kissing at the skin.
You go to speak. Your voice croaks and falters as Hanni begins to roll her hips into you. Soft, almost imperceptibly light bounces at first. You correct your voice, "fuck, perfect."
"Does my pussy feel good, professor?" Hanni's fucking you slowly, and you respond to her question by gripping tightly around her waist and pushing up hard into her. She holds your gaze as she begins to up her tempo. Flesh on flesh, clapping as you crash into each other. Hanni takes your hands in her own, guiding them to her breasts, placing her fingers on yours and gently squeezing her soft tits.
Dani is biting at your ear from behind, her hands running down over your body as she whispers into your ear, "do you like her tits professor?" Dani pulls your shirt open and her delicate fingers roll over your nipples. "They look so nice to touch. To grab. How do they feel?"
Warmth spills over you. You’re sitting there, letting Hanni—little innocent thing—ride you like an animal. Your cock feels snug inside her, tightly clenching around you. Dani is kissing at your neck and shoulders and Hanni is playing her little games.
"This is even better than I imagined, professor, but my legs..." She sucks in air through her teeth, struggling to continue as you penetrate her. "My legs need a rest. Will you put me on the desk?" Her soft voice, still so innocent despite what she's doing, somehow only thickens the lust.
You nod. You have no more words. Wrapping your hands around Hanni, you carry her, on your cock to the desk. Hanni slips back onto the desk and lets her head fall backwards. Eyes glued closed in total bliss. She mutters through a heaving breath, "you're fucking me. Fuck." Like she can't believe it's real.
You hook her legs, bringing them over your shoulders, resting the heels on you as you use the leverage to pump against her.
"Professor," Hanni's hands are tightly gripped onto your forearms, "are you going to cum inside me?" She opens her eyes just enough to let you know she's watching your response, a smile turning up the sides of her lips.
"Yeah." Dani can't help adding from your side, again touching your body. "Cum inside her professor. I think she needs it bad. Don't you?" Dani tilts her head at Hanni, questioning her.
"Yes. Give it to me professor." Her reply, direct, assured and daring, leaves no room for question.
Hanni's back arches and she groans again, this time with more hunger in her voice. "Please, professor. I want to feel you."
Your orgasm begins to stir inside you. Still, you restrain yourself, continuing to thrust into Hanni as she closes her eyes, pouting her lips and writhing under your control. It's the most magnificent thing to watch, how this once delicate and unassuming young woman is now transformed by lust.
"Look at me Hanni," you command her. Hanni's eyes slip open and meet yours. She whines softly as you drive into her. "I'm going to fucking cum inside you." You can hardly believe the words falling from your lips as you give Hanni the tainted energy of your thoughts.
Dani clings to your shoulder, encouraging you. "Don't stop professor. Please cum inside her."
It's at that point you have to wonder how long these two have been conspiring about this. All to culminate in this moment. This moment that fast approaches, about to crash into you in your inevitable—but long-awaited—release. Your breathing hikes, reaching a pinnacle, and the grip on Hanni's waist tightens. You bury yourself to the hilt as you slow to your final movements.
Hanni runs her hand through the strands of her hair stuck to her forehead. Gripping herself as she feels it inside her. A pleasured smile on her radiating face. You're emptying into her. Everything you have. Your entire fucking self. You're pumping inside her and filling her up. You keep your eyes glued to hers.
"Oh, fuck yes, professor. He's cumming Dani." Hanni throws her head back against the table, shaking and trembling and slowly melting into euphoria. You drop her legs, pressing your hands on either side of her, just trying not to lose balance while waves of pleasure crash around your body.
Dani strokes at your back, caressing your shoulders with her delicate little fingers, giggling with appreciation. "If only you knew how long she has been waiting for you to do that." She gently pulls on your shoulders, drawing you out of Hanni and back towards your chair. Your whole body collapses into the leather.
Dani kneels by your feet, looking up at you, a smile that dances on her lips and delight in her glittering eyes. "Can I clean you off, professor?"
You have nothing left to give. A nod is the only thing you have strength for.
Dani's tongue laps against your cock—hot, wet, and hungry.
Hanni is still coming down from a high. Naked, used and breathless, she rises to her elbows and smiles mischievously.
You look down at Dani. Licking. Cleaning your spent cock. She's careful and caring with her touch and tongue. But the smirk tells it all—she wants to taste as much of you as you can offer. And she wants you hard again, ready to give to her as you did to Hanni.
In that silent understanding, there is another, too. You look back to Hanni, and you know in your gut that this isn't a one-off. Study hard—those were her words. Little studying happened, but there's more than one way to improve a grade. And if these girls want to be in your class next semester, and if you want them, then maybe a little extra credit wouldn't hurt.
Yeah, this is definitely not the end. Not for today, not for a long time.
A/N: Well I managed to cobble this together in just two days, and it's a bit of a throwback to my old style which feels right given it's two years since I first started. This one was just plain porn, but the next fic, folie a deux part 4, will have a lot more character work that I'm excited to share. Thanks for reading <3
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Broken ribs and special date
Bucky's just about to win the boxing fight, when John breaks his ribs. Little did he know that he will find something more in the woman who treats his wounds than just another woman looking at him.
Pairing: Boxer!Bucky Barnes x Paramedic!Fem!Reder
Wordcount: 1.671 Words
Warnings/Tags: boxer au, injuries, meet cute, fluff
Authors Note: @gremlin-girly here you go. Thank you for the encouragment to write this one. Dividers made by me.
Events: 4B-Bingo [4B 010 | B1 | Boxing AU | @avengers-assemble-bingo], Bucky Boy Bingo [N1 | Meeting | @buckyboybingo], Bucky Barnes Bingo [BO23 | U1 | Action/Adventure | @buckybarnesbingo]
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
One punch. Another punch.
The loud cheers from the people around the boxing ring erupt in the club when one of the guys falls down on the ground. He’s holding his hands in front of his face to protect his nose and cheeks that already got attacked by the other boxer.
His chest rises and falls heavily, the skin above his eyes already broken when he brings his hands to the ankle of the man who’s still standing. With a swift movement, he pulls the leg back and causes the brunette man to fall down on top of him.
A huff escapes the brown-haired man, followed by a cough as his ribs land on John’s knee. The cracking sound of breaking ribs is only audible for the two of them.
You flinch, watching the scene from the side. Your eyes roam over the men on the ground, their limbs tangling together as both try to set punches.
Both of them are groaning and panting. Bruised faces, but none of them cares, only getting even more motivated by the chanting of their names, the loud cheers, and the screams that fill the boxing club.
“C’mon,” the brunette laughs, his fist connecting with John’s face. James, who’s also known as Bucky ‘White Wolf’ in the club, wraps his legs around John’s hips. He turns them both until he straddles the man and sets another punch to his jaw.
Bucky grins at the man, watching John wiggling underneath him. The man’s fist connects with Bucky’s stomach and chest, not even hard enough to make him budge. Except the one punch that’s set against Bucky’s broken ribs, making him hiss in pain.
“Fuck!” Bucky growls, slamming his fists a few more times against the other man’s jaw before he gets dragged away from John.
Two medical workers rush into the ring to look after John, while Bucky gets led to the side where you’re sitting. It’s a small room where you can watch everything from when the door is open.
You watch the brunette man getting dragged into the room, a frown on his face as he tries to argue with his trainer that he doesn’t need anyone to look over his ribs.
“I’m fine, I told you,” he huffs, falling down on the plank bed. Bucky growls at his trainer as he walks out of the room and closes the door behind him. Leaving you alone with the boxer.
You turn toward Bucky, smiling softly. His expression softens when he looks at you, a small smile forming on his lips. “Hi, I know you’re a big boy and can handle some wounds, but do you let me look at them anyway? Especially your ribs would be important to have a look at.”
Bucky nods, even though he would say it’s not necessary. He brings his calloused hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal his muscled chest and stomach to you. His left arm is covered in tattoos, a star on his shoulder while the rest is black and gold that looks like roses and boxing gloves.
You have seen a lot of muscular chests and skin from boxers, but never as impressive as Bucky’s. With his shirt on, though it’s fitting him like a second skin, he doesn’t look that well trained.
You clear your throat, sitting down on the chair before moving closer to Bucky with it. He’s sitting with his legs slightly spread, his head hanging low to look at the bruise that’s forming on his skin. “I didn’t know it would look that bad.”
“You broke them,” you say, pressing your digits around the bruise into his skin. Bucky watches you intensely with his blue orbs, taking in every little detail of your face. A soft chuckle escapes him as you tilt your head slightly; for whatever reason, he thinks it looks adorable. “What? Does it tickle you?”
“No, I just think… you’re cute, I mean—“ Bucky sighs, throwing his head against the wall behind him. He had the perfect moment to flirt with you, and he had to ruin it by telling you you're cute. It could have been everything: sexy, beautiful, and handsome. But he has to say cute. Like he’s a college boy trying to get a prom date. “Sorry, I'm Bucky, by the way, and that’s not what a beautiful woman like you wants to hear, is it?”
“I can’t complain; it’s nothing I get to hear daily,” you chuckle softly, giving him your name as well, and then you turn around to get a cooling pack. You press it with a paper around it to Bucky’s ribs, holding it there until Bucky places your hand on top of yours to hold the pack himself. “It’s better than sexy, I guess. It’s not that I don’t like to be sexy, but having every man walking in here telling you you’re so sexy. It’s like it’s all about your body but never about me.”
Bucky hums; he can’t relate to it, but he can still understand. “You’re cute then, doll,” he chuckles and looks at his hand that’s pressed against his hips. “Can I fight with it or? You know John isn’t down yet. So…?”
“Your ribs are broken; it’s all swollen and already blue. Risking to worsen that, it’s your decision; I can’t stop you from going into the ring, but I wouldn’t suggest it,” you answer honestly. You keep that soft smile on your lips as you inspect his bruised cheek and forehead as well. “These aren’t that bad. Only your skin is broken from the force of the punches and some light bruises.”
Bucky nods, watching you a moment longer. It’s quiet in the room but not uncomfortable. You’re waiting for him to tell you if he wants to go back into the ring. And he’s thinking about it.
“I wanted to ask if—“ he chuckles, running his thick fingers through his brown locks. Bucky’s expression softens further, his lips curling upward into the sweetest and softest smile you have ever seen. “You would go out with me if I win. But you look worried about my ribs. Would you go out with me even when I don’t win? I mean… I don’t do it to impress you; it’s a way to impress someone, but I don’t feel like I have to impress you.”
Bucky’s eyes search your face for any hint. He has noticed the frown on your face when he played his injuries down and when he asked to be able to keep fighting in the ring with John. But he has also noticed that your smile widens when he smiles, and for the first time in ages, he’s interested in a woman, but not any woman, in you.
“It’s just, I kinda like to earn certain things. So your attention, your agreement to a date with me,” Bucky explains with a low chuckle. He removes the ice pack and looks at the bruise. It’s dark and hurts; he’s not sure if he wants to risk anything when he can just go on a date with you instead.
“I would love to. But you don’t have to fight against John to earn it. I would love to go out with you in one piece,” you say softly with a slight giggle. Bucky raises his eyebrows in amusement, tilting his head but nodding. “So, do you want me to tell your trainer you can keep going or that your ribs should get some rest before you step out there in the ring again?”
Bucky hums, thinking about it for a moment. He doesn't like to interrupt a fight like that, especially not against John. But he also knows better than to go out there to get another punch or kick into his ribs and get a worse injury.
“John knows my ribs are broken, or at least injured. He would use it to his advantage,” he says quietly, nodding his head. Bucky looks back up at you, a soft smile on his plump lips. “Tell him we will continue that another time; my ribs have to heal first.”
“Good,” you say, opening the door to find Bucky's trainer standing in front of the door. He turns around when he notices you in the door, his eyes wandering from you to Bucky, who's still sitting on the bed, and shrugs. "His ribs should heal before he gets out there for any fights. They are broken, and another punch could cause them to damage anything."
The trainer nods at you. “Barnes, you will listen to the lady or you will get timeouts,” he warns Bucky, who's grinning at him playfully. “I mean it, you will sit on the bench if you dare to disobey her.”
“Yes, sir,” Bucky chuckles and gets off the bed. He picks up his shirt to throw it over his shoulder before he walks up to you. One of his thick arms wraps itself around your waist, pulling you into his warm side. “If you excuse us, we have a date.”
Bucky's trainer's eyes widen. Bucky doesn't even look at any women, and now he's going on a date with you? You really have to be someone special when he asks you out. The wide smile Bucky gives him before leading you to the locker rooms answers it for him – you're not just someone; you are Bucky's everything.
“Have fun, lovebirds. But not too much,” the trainer says. “I mean, mini Bucky's aren't bad when they come here and are as good as their daddy.”
Your eyes widen when you look at Bucky. “Does he always plan stuff like that for you?”
Bucky shakes his head with a chuckle. “No, you're special, and he knows. I don't do dates, unless I'm sure it's the right person,” he hums, smiling softly at you before he presses his plump lips to your forehead. “But don't worry, no mini Bucky's before the date. Maybe after the date, doll.”
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Yandere Harem Coworkers x New Hire Reader
Now with a part 2 <3
Good news: You landed your dream job! Bad news: Your coworkers are fucking insane.
CW: Yanderes, workplace harassment, possessiveness, implied stalking, power dynamics, dubcon touching
You hadn't expected a job like this to come so easily.
It really had been a dream job from the moment you laid eyes on the job posting, and they'd even offered you better during the interview! They'd even thrown in an extra sign on bonus! You couldn't believe your luck. You were finally going places.
Really, how could you say no?
Your interviewer was the HR manager, Leon Jacobs. He was a stern looking man, clearly in his late 40's, and didn't seem to have a single flaw in his appearance. His age showed in the beginnings of grey hairs atop his tidy, shortcut black hair, and the creases beneath his eyes. His appearance was beyond intimidating. Dark, scowling eyes picked you apart from behind his glasses as you fidgeted in your chair. Whatever nightmare of an interview you thought was coming, never happened. Instead, you were surprised when he almost immediately offered you not only the job, but an even better salary and bonus than was advertised. You were almost too stunned to speak, as he held out his hand to shake, his dark expression lifting with the slightest twitch of his lips. You took his hand shakily in agreement. In your excitement, you didn't notice the way his hand gripped yours a hair too tight, or how his touch lingered for a few moments longer than it should have. The way his gaze intently followed your figure as you walked out was also missed by you.
"We're so happy to welcome you to the team. Our team will make sure your time working here is as pleasant as possible."
Your trainer is a well respected man, Warren Pen. Warren is a huge man, easily towering over you. While he'd be otherwise intimidating at his size, his warm expression and demeanor quickly puts you at ease. How could you be afraid of him, with his warm brown eyes and bouncy red curls and gentle smile? You quickly learned that he must have a pretty high position in the company. His office alone was almost as big as your entire apartment! The office they give you is nearly as big, much to your surprise. Warren reassures you that it's not a mistake, that they just want you to be comfortable in your new position. You are so very important to the company, after all. As he helps you settle in, you're amazed by his generosity and kindness. You're too happy to question why there's such a big office space right next to his open for you, or why such a high ranking worker would be assigned to train a newbie. You're initially confused about why all your other coworkers seem to cower away from him... until you see him lose it on a poor intern. His demeanor changed from a gentle giant to a raging monster within the blink of an eye, screaming at the intern over a simple filing mistake. You find yourself suddenly on your toes around him, waiting for a verbal barrage over one of your mishaps, but it never comes.
"Don't worry, I'd never treat you like that. They deserved it. You're doing perfect."
Your department's boss is a man named Jax Wright. Jax is a charming man, and the childhood best friend of Warren. He's slim and tall, with black hair and a slightly rugged appearance. He always seems to be in a rush, hair usually rustled and a 5 o'clock shadow a constant on his face. Yet, he somehow takes time out of his busy day to visit you. Or, more accurately, he finds the time to corner you when you're alone or with Warren. You don't want to lose this dream of a job, so you don't mention the way the childhood friends always find a way to crowd around you in the more narrow hallways or the breakroom. They insist you have lunch everyday with them, why would you want to eat by yourself? You really shouldn't deny your superiors' lunch requests, y'know. You ignore the lingering touches as he leans in far closer than necessary to examine your work, hands placed possessively on your shoulders. He loves to give you overwhelming praise, even for the most minor of accomplishments. You're afraid your other coworkers will think the worst of you because of the special treatment, but they seem to be avoiding you nearly as much as they avoid Warren.
"Good job. You're exceptional as always. It's been an absolute pleasure to work with you. Keep being good and you're bound for a raise."
With the rest of the department seeming to avoid you like the plague, you start to believe that you're stuck with just the overbearing childhood friends to talk to. That is until the secretary, Jake Moor, begins to talk to you. Jake is flamboyant, to say the least. He's bright, from his beaming white smile to his wide array of cute, colorful ties he matches with his suit. He's young, in his early 20s, and his bright blonde hair only adds to his youthful appearance. He's almost too much, talking at light speed and somehow being more touchy than your boss. He always finds a reason to pull you into hugs, or rustle your hair playfully. It doesn't bother you much though, he's just being friendly, right? And you really don't want to lose one of the few friends you have in the department. He has some sort of treat for you everyday, usually a homemade meal or pastry you have to find the time to eat alone before you're coworkers steal you away to have lunch with them. His cheerful nature motivates you to stay with the company, he really is your "beacon of light". You even find yourself giggling to yourself as he sends you silly motivational cat pictures throughout your day. He's so cute you don't even question how he got your number when you never gave it to him yourself. You do find it a bit odd that he knows exactly where to go when your car breaks down one day and he gives you a ride home, but you'd told him you lived in those apartments on the east side, remember? He'd never use his position to look at confidential paperwork. Never.
"I brought you in some cookies I baked last night, and here, I even made some dog treats! I've never made them before, let me know how he likes them! How did I know you have a dog? ...you told me, remember? Silly!"
As the weeks pass, you start to become more accustomed to your coworker's odd mannerisms. They still wear on you, but the money is just so good. You need it, where else would you even go? There's no chance you'd find anything near as good, if you found anything at all. You needed this job, Jax and Warren's overbearing natures aside. At least you had Jake, who always seems to know exactly what you need whenever you need it.
You can tough it out... right?
#reader insert#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere boss#yandere coworkers#yandere harem#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines
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Room For One More?
Chapter 3
Summary: You have an unsuspected guest join you on your walk home from work.
CW: None.
Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader
Chapter 1, Chapter 2
__
“So Remus hates me.”
You were leaning against the water cooler in your office, chatting with Mary as she took a longer than necessary break from her desk.
Her head shot upwards.
“What?”
You sighed. “Remus. He doesn’t like me. I don’t know what I did to him but ever since I’ve moved in he’s been super standoffish.”
“I’m sure that’s not true!” The girl attempted to sooth. “Remus doesn’t hate anyone. Sure he can be grumpy and a bit off-putting at times. But deep down he’s a sweetheart.”
You scoffed. “Yeah well I’ll believe it when I see it.”
You looked out the window at the snow-covered trees that surrounded your office building. It had begun to snow for the first time this year over-night, something you’d been very excited to discover this morning when you’d woken up.
You loved winter. The snow covered buildings, Christmas decorations, carols playing in the living room as you drank eggnog by the fire. It was your absolute favourite time of year.
“Oh look at the time! I’d better head off soon,” Mary exclaimed. “I have that date to get ready for!”
You smirked and nudged her shoulder gently. “I still can’t believe you won’t tell me who you’re going out with!”
She shrugged playfully. “It’s early days yet. I don’t want to jinx things.”
“Well, let me know how it goes, anyway.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! I’ve got to run but see you tomorrow.”
You bid her goodbye before making your way back to your desk to grab your coat. You weren’t looking forward to the walk home today. Despite your apartment being only a few blocks away from where you worked, the temperature had dropped drastically over the last few days and a 20 minute walk home in the winter air was bound to be unpleasant.
You loved winter time, but only when you didn’t have to be outside, in the heart of it.
You made sure you were huddled up in your coat as you exited the building, however, you still weren’t prepared for the blast of cold air that hit you as you stepped outside onto the street. You shivered, wishing you’d brought a thicker jacket for the journey.
You glanced around the frost bitten streets and an icy gust of wind rustled through you. Then you stopped, eyes narrowing as you observed a figure leaning against the side of the building.
“James?” You managed to call over the noise of the traffic.
He looked up from where he’d been scrolling on his phone, smiling widely as he met your eyes.
“Hey!”
“What are you doing here?” You questioned, making your way over to him.
“I finished early with my trainer,” he explained. “And your building is on my way, so I figured I’d walk you home.”
You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as you imagined him getting off the tube a stop early just to walk you home in the cold.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you sighed.
He shook his head, a few stray curls falling in front of his eyes. “I wanted to.”
He held out an arm and you linked your own through his as the two of you began to make your way down the bustling London streets.
“So how was your session today?” You asked, subconsciously pressing yourself closer to him. The man was like a walking radiator.
“It was great!” He exclaimed. “How was work?”
You shrugged. “Same old, same old I guess. Mary has another mystery date tonight though.”
James’ brows raised. “I can’t believe she still hasn’t told anyone who she’s seeing. I wonder if there’s something off with this mysterious suitor or hers. Maybe she’s embarrassed by them.”
You chuckled lightly. “Maybe. That’s definitely one explanation.”
You walked along in silence for a while, taking in the scenery around you. London was beautiful in the winter time. All festive, snow layered streets and colourful wreaths hanging on front doors. It looked like something out a Christmas movie.
Then, after a moment, James stopped suddenly, dragging you to a halt alongside him.
“I just remembered,” he exclaimed. “There’s this amazing little cafe around the corner. It does the world’s best hot chocolate! You have to try it. Fancy stopping in?”
You looked up at him for a moment and couldn’t help but smile at the way his eyes lit up when he was excited. He had a particularly boyish charm about him, one you found awfully hard to say no to.
“Sure, that sounds lovely.”
“Great,” he said enthusiastically. “Let’s go.”
When you stepped into the cafe, you were hit with a burst of warmth, stark in contrast to the biting chill outside. The cafe was a small hole in the wall but immensely cosy. It was decorated in festive Christmas decorations and a deliciously chocolatey aroma hung in the air.
“James! So good to see you darling!” There was an older woman standing behind the counter, dressed in a red dress with a green apron tied around her waist. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled back into a low bun and she had motherly energy about her as she rounded the counter to pull James into a warm hug.
“Hey Margo,” he responded fondly. “It’s good to see you.”
“And who’s this lovely thing?” She directed a warm smile at you as she pulled away.
“This here is y/n. My new roommate and friend.” You smiled at the introduction. “We were walking home and I told her that we couldn’t carry on until we stopped for a famous hot chocolate here.”
“Well it’s wonderful to meet you, dear,” she pulled you into a hug as well. “Any friend of James, is a friend of mine. Now, go and take the table by the window. I’ll bring you over the usual in just a moment.”
She hurried back into the kitchens and James gestured for you to follow him. You sat down in a cozy little booth in a bay window, that looked out over the crowded streets.
“This is beautiful,” you exclaimed, watching people passing by, going on with their day to day amidst the snowy London winter.
“It’s good isn’t it.”
“How did you find out about this place?” You pried. It wasn’t really a Main Street attraction.
“Peter actually introduced us to it,” James explained, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “Back in school. His Mum is friends with Margo. The four of us used to come here all the time after class in winter.”
You nodded gently. “That’s really nice.”
James chuckled. “Yeah, Sirius claims this place is why our friendship has lasted so long. A lot of arguments were settled over this table.”
You bit your lip thoughtfully. There was a question playing on your mind. It had been sitting there for a while but you never quite knew how to ask it.
You took a deep breath, eyes settling on the sweet boy across the table. He gave you a lopsided grin and you figured now was as good a time as any.
“James, I was just wondering. Is there something… going on between Remus and Sirius?”
You thought back to the way they looked at each other that night at the bar a few weeks back. Like there was some unspoken language between them that you couldn’t quite understand.
James huffed good-naturedly. “You picked up on that, did you?”
You nodded in return.
“Yeah, they went out for a while in high school but it didn’t really last very long. To be honest I’m not 100% sure why they ended things. I they were good together, truth be told.”
“That’s good to know,” you muttered, smiling softly. But there was a twinge of something else burying itself within your gut at the thought and you didn’t fully understand why.
At that moment, Margo returned, two steaming hot chocolates in hand.
“Here you go, loves. Enjoy.”
She placed the cups on the table, sending you a wink before heading off to deal with some other customers.
“Cheers,” James jested, raising his mug to clink against yours.
You took a sip and your eyes widened.
“James, you were so right. This is incredible!”
—
With bellies full of warm chocolatey goodness, you ventured back out onto the cold streets.
You’d been so comfortable inside Margo’s cafe that you almost forgot how freezing the temperature was. It jumped out and bit you like a venomous snake as you exited the threshold.
A harsh shiver ran down your spine and you wrapped your arms around yourself in hopes to fend off the cold wind. It was then that you realised it had started snowing.
“You look freezing!” James stated as you began the rest of your walk home. “Here take this.”
In a swift movement, the man had shedded his winter coat and wrapped it around you, leaving only his hoodie to stand between him and the brisk air.
“James, no! You’ll freeze,” you protested, attempting to rid yourself of the garment with frozen fingers.
“I’ll be fine,” he responded earnestly, that warm, charming smile of his overtaking him as he rubbed his hands up and down your arms.
“We’re only a few minutes away from home. Besides I run hot anyway. You need it more than I do.”
You felt something flutter inside of you at his sincerity. He looked down at you, a twinkle in his hazel eyes as his hands still sat on your forearms, holding you as if you were made of glass.
There were snowflakes settling in his dark curls, his nose and cheeks slightly flushed from the bitter chill.
“Thank you, really. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“You can make it up to me by getting out of this cold wind before you get sick. Come on.”
Mindlessly, he clasped your hand in his and began to guide you down the street towards your home. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips and for the first time that afternoon, a warmth began to fill you. Only this time, you knew that it had more to do with the boy beside you than anything else.
—
Taglist:
@hisparentsgallerryy
@navs-bhat
@shushbruv
@magicwithaknife
@eeviee4
#marauders#james potter x reader#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#poly!marauders x reader#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#marauders au
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I was wondering how you think readers life would be different if they were a puppy hybrid instead of a cat? I had a dream about this last night after I reread your works
You had a dream abt it after my fic?🫢🥹💚
The dynamics between the reader and the family would noticeably change if the reader took on more canine traits rather than feline. The bat’s would likely respond differently, as canine behaviors and characteristics can vary significantly from those associated with cats. The reader's dog-like nature could shape how the family interacts with and cares for them, adding a different layer to their relationships and potentially influencing the family's behaviour. They’d expect more from you.
The nature of a dog is typically more sociable and dependent, leading to different expectations and interactions.
So if you don't immediately respond to their affections by showing signs of eagerness, like a happy, loving puppy would, the family would interpret your behaviour as abnormal. They might worry that something is wrong with you, as canine behaviour typically involves being sociable and receptive to affection.
They'd expect you to enjoy being petted, as dogs often crave human touch and attention.
You’d promptly be sent out on your way to a vet. Because, something must be the matter with you. It could never be their faults. They'd assume that the issue lies within you rather than considering the possibility that they might be the source of the problem.
In contrast to their care for Kitten Reader, they'd be more inclined to allow Puppy Reader to spend time in human form. This is because it's easier for them to monitor and assess your mental state when you're in human form. As they find it less challenging to gauge your emotions, well-being, and mental state when you're human if you’re completely unreceptive as a pup.
For a kitten it’s natural to be less receptive to affection, batting at their hands or hissing when they get too close. But it’s completely abnormal for a pup. You’re supposed to seek out their touch, not flinch from it.
So they need to nip your behaviour in the bud.
Damian, being the meticulous and dedicated individual that he is, will take it upon himself to arrange online training sessions with the most skilled and highly regarded trainers available. He believes that you ought to behave in a manner that befits your canine nature and will take great care in selecting trainers who can help you learn and adapt accordingly.
He will diligently oversee your progress, taking notes on your behavior and ensuring that you receive the necessary guidance.
Dick, being the “loving and dedicated older brother” that he likes to call himself, will dive into a thorough online research session to discover the best ways to force have you to be affectionate with him. His search queries including phrases like "How to get your dog to like you," "How to create a bond with your new puppy," and "How to make a puppy love you instantly." He’ll immerse himself in articles, videos, and guides that provide tips and techniques to form a deep and affectionate connection with you.
This ends up resulting with every time you manage to do literally anything besides growling at him, whether it be making eye contact, sitting, or even just existing in his presence, you’re immediately rewarded with a dog biscuit as an incentive.
Jason, with his rugged exterior and rough edges, is the type to carry you, no matter how large your fluffy canine physique, in a practical doggy bag. While he may appear tough on the outside, he has a deep attachment to you in your puppy form, as in some underlying level he sees himself in you.
Especially if you have any visible scars that can’t be concealed in your canine form, he might find an even stronger affinity towards you, mirroring his own experiences in a strange yet comforting way.
Tim, being the methodical and detail-oriented individual, he is, would design an unnecessarily intricate and ultra-luxurious dog pen for you indoors. This pen would be thoughtfully equipped with every amenity and comfort appropriate for your puppy needs. However, he's also pragmatic and meticulous, and would ensure that appropriate measures were in place to lock you up if you needed disciplining for misbehavior, demonstrating his keen attention to both your comfort and safety.
Tim's favorite creation thus far for you is the collar fused to your skin in a way that causes no discomfort when you transform from one form to another. It relays live data to the Bat-computer and a specially designed app installed on each family member's phone. The collar monitors everything you consume, tracks your whereabouts, keeps tabs on your vitals, and records your voice continuously for 24 hours. Moreover, it also picks up on any intense emotions you're experiencing, providing the family with a comprehensive understanding of your canine state of mind at all times.
The collar is discreetly designed to blend in, looking just like any ordinary dog collar one would purchase at a pet store, except perhaps a bit more posh and expensive. However, the back of the collar is adorned with a beautiful tag bearing all the family members’ contact details.
Other features are installed to keep you in line. A built-in shocker to administer a warning shock in case of any misbehaving behavior. After all, a little shock can go a long way in shaping a puppy's behavior. The collar is also equipped with a feature that bypasses the need for conscious thought to shift between your human and puppy form. It sends signals directly to your brain, creating a sort of mental “shortcut” to seamlessly transform between states. It takes much of the guesswork out of transforming, streamlining the process and making it effortless, forcing you to shift and taking away your ability to choose with a click of a button.
Bruce, being the overprotective father figure that he wishes to be, would be disheartened with the limitations placed on him. He’d long to take you to the grocery store, show you off to his co-workers, or even simply take walks around the park in his neighborhood. However, the others would be quick to point out that your canine form might attract unwanted public attention, and the less people knew about your existence, the better it would be for everyone’s security.
Like, What the fuck do you mean he can’t take his purebred puppy inside this fine dining establishment?? He’s a billionaire. Make the exception before he has your whole restaurant shut down and each of your employees knee-deep in debt by the end of the day.
Link to official chapter
Like to previous cat reader
I’m so tired… really hope you liked this, anon.
#x reader#reqs open#send asks#send requests#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#yandere batboys#dog hybrid#puppy hybrid#gn reader#yandere dc#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere batboys x reader#batfamily#batboys#batfam#yandere damian wayne#yandere robin#yandere tim drake#yandere red robin#yandere jason todd#yandere red hood#yandere dick grayson#yandere nightwing#yandere batman#yandere bruce wayne#platonic yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x darling
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close enough
୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ chapter five !
summary: vi's subtle longing for y/n grows with each lingering moment, and when their playful teasing takes an intimate turn, a sudden interruption leaves their connection unspoken but undeniable.
pairing: hockey player! vi x sports med trainer!fem! reader
notes: im loving building up the tension sm but i promise more couply stuff soon!! comment or message me if you wanna be added to the taglish and let me know how you guys are feeling about the story!!! <3
୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ chapter six / series masterlist



The next few weeks passed with a rhythm that felt suspiciously like routine. Vi found herself waiting for moments with Y/N, not always deliberately, but somehow always lingering near the sports med room longer than necessary or cracking jokes that earned her soft laughs and those quick, fluttery glances she couldn't stop thinking about.
Their conversations were easy, more comfortable now, toeing the line between casual and something more. Their teasing had developed its own language, one that made Y/N’s stomach twist in that dangerous, excited way. The touches lingered a little longer, the glances held a little too long, and neither of them seemed eager to put distance between them.
Vi had a habit of getting her hands wrapped before every practice, always had, but it was never Y/N who did it. Not because she didn’t want to, but because Vi seemed to have made it a routine with another med staffer. Still, Y/N was always nearby, sometimes organizing supplies or tending to other athletes, always exchanging words with Vi, their voices laced with unspoken undercurrents.
Today was different.
Y/N was alone in the sports med room, cross-legged on one of the padded tables, a thick book splayed open on her lap. Her highlighter danced across the page, her brow furrowed in focus, lips slightly parted in concentration. She looked peaceful, tucked away from the cold buzz of the rink outside. Unaware of the pink-haired girl standing at the doorway.
Vi leaned against the frame, her arms crossed lazily over her chest as she watched Y/N, a slow smile creeping onto her face. She liked seeing her like this, absorbed, unguarded. Something about the way Y/N moved when she thought no one was watching made something in Vi’s chest ache in the best way.
“Careful,” Vi finally called out, breaking the silence. “You're gonna burn a hole through that page with how hard you’re staring.”
Y/N startled slightly, looking up with a breathless laugh and rolling her eyes as she set the highlighter down. “Maybe if you stared at your playbook half as much, your coach wouldn’t be so stressed all the time.”
Vi chuckled, stepping into the room. “Wow. Harsh today, huh? Remind me to bring you a coffee before I ask you for anything next time.”
Y/N smirked, sliding the book shut. “You always ask for something anyway. What is it today, tape, ice, emotional support?”
Vi moved closer now, her steps unhurried. “None of the above,” she said, voice softer now. “Well… maybe a little support. Think you could wrap my hands today?”
The shift in her tone wasn’t lost on Y/N. Her teasing smile softened into something quieter, more intimate. “Of course,” she said, hopping down from the table. “Just give me a second.”
She moved around the room with practiced ease, gathering the supplies. Vi sat on the padded table where Y/N had just been perched, spreading her legs a bit to make room.
Y/N returned, stopping in front of her and taking Vi’s hands gently in her own. Her fingers were careful, focused, but Vi noticed the slight tremor in her touch, the way her thumb grazed Vi’s palm like she was afraid of holding on too tight, but didn’t want to let go either.
“Didn’t think you’d ever ask me to do this,” Y/N murmured, starting to wrap.
Vi tilted her head slightly. “Didn’t want to make you fall for me too fast. Thought I’d ease you into it.”
Y/N laughed under her breath, glancing up briefly but not meeting Vi’s eyes. “Right. That must be why you’ve been hovering around the med room like a lost puppy lately.”
“Not a puppy,” Vi shot back, grinning. “A wolf. Cool. Mysterious. Very smooth.”
“Definitely not smooth,” Y/N muttered, and Vi swore she was smiling.
The two of them were so close, the space between them charged with something unsaid. Y/N focused on her work, but her pulse was pounding at the feel of Vi’s skin under her fingers. The tension in her shoulders, the way Vi’s legs bracketed her in gently, not in a trapping way but in something that felt oddly protective.
Vi couldn’t stop watching her. The crease in her brow, the way her lashes fanned over her cheeks when she looked down, the gentleness in her every movement. She wanted to say something. Something real. But the words stuck behind her teeth.
Y/N finished the last wrap, taping it off before carefully setting Vi’s hands down. She reached to set the supplies on the table beside them, and when she turned back, she met Vi’s eyes.
They were breathtaking, so blue, so focused. But not just on her. Into her.
Vi’s gaze dropped to her lips.
Y/N’s breath hitched.
Vi shifted forward slightly, one hand starting to reach for Y/N’s waist like it was second nature. Her palm hovered there, fingers aching to pull her close. Y/N didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned in, just a bit, her eyes flicking from Vi’s lips to her eyes again.
It was all happening slowly. Carefully. Like the universe was holding its breath.
“Vi!” Claire’s voice cut through the moment like a blade, the door swinging open with a loud creak. “Coach wants to go over the new forecheck—”
She stopped mid-sentence.
Vi and Y/N snapped apart like magnets yanked apart by force. Y/N took a full step back, cheeks flushed, and turned her head toward Claire with a small, “Hey.”
Claire blinked, her eyes bouncing between the two of them before raising a single eyebrow in unmistakable suspicion. “Uh… yeah. Coach. Playbook. Now.”
Vi stood slowly, clearing her throat and casting one last look toward Y/N. She didn’t say anything, just smiled, soft and a little crooked, and started toward the door.
Y/N watched her the whole way, arms folded across her chest to hide the way her hands still trembled.
Vi paused at the doorway, turning back just as Claire was already halfway down the hall.
“Thanks, Y/N,” she said, her voice barely above a murmur, like it was meant for her alone.
Y/N smiled, small, warm, everything in her chest fluttering. “Anytime.”
And Vi left, but the ghost of her hand on Y/N’s waist lingered long after she was gone.
—
Y/N couldn’t stop replaying that moment in the sports med room. The way Vi’s hand had hovered just shy of her waist, fingers twitching like she wanted to pull her closer but didn’t. And worse, Vi’s eyes had been fixed on her mouth like it held every answer she’d ever wanted. The warmth of her breath, the low murmur of her voice, it had left Y/N’s heart fluttering like a warning bell, or maybe a promise.
That ghost of a near-kiss followed her like a shadow as the rest of her shift blurred by. She was meant to leave early today, to slip out before the women’s team wrapped up practice, but Mel had texted from the library in a panic over a looming chemistry exam. Y/N hadn’t even hesitated before agreeing to cover her. And when a player from the men's team decided he needed a last-minute ice bath, her early departure turned into a stay that dragged thirty more minutes longer than expected.
By the time she pulled on her hoodie and adjusted the strap of her heavy, overstuffed purse over her shoulder, her limbs felt tired but her thoughts still clung to Vi. She stepped out of the sports med room, locking the door behind her, exhaling slowly, only to startle slightly at the sound of a familiar voice.
"Jesus, Y/N. Is that a purse or your entire apartment in there?" Vi’s voice came from where she leaned against the wall next to the door, arms crossed, smirk cocked like a loaded weapon.
Y/N turned, unimpressed but hardly annoyed. Her lips curled, a soft smile betraying her fondness as she raised an eyebrow. “Some of us like being prepared. You wouldn’t understand, you barely carry your keys.”
Vi grinned wider, eyes drinking her in. “I don’t need keys when I’ve got charm. Works like magic, actually.”
Y/N snorted. “Is that what you tell yourself when your charm doesn’t get you through a locked door?”
Vi pushed off the wall, walking forward until she stood in front of Y/N, eyes glittering beneath the dim hallway light. "Nah. That’s when I call you. My favorite fixer."
The teasing had become their language, smooth, effortless, edged with affection. It used to be playful, even impersonal, but now there was something softer curled beneath it. Y/N felt it in the way Vi looked at her, as if she were memorizing details she didn’t want to forget.
Vi glanced down at the purse strap digging into Y/N’s shoulder. Without a word, she stepped forward, her hand brushing against Y/N’s arm as she slid the bag from her shoulder with practiced ease. Y/N blinked, a flush crawling up her neck. Vi didn’t say anything about it, just threw the strap over her own shoulder like it weighed nothing.
“Come on,” she said, turning casually like she hadn’t just made Y/N’s stomach twist in knots.
They walked side by side in silence, the air between them no longer crackling with unspoken tension but buzzing with something quieter, something hopeful. The teasing didn’t stop entirely, though. Vi would throw in a comment here or there, about the way Y/N walked too fast, or the size of her hoodie sleeves. Y/N would roll her eyes, but she found herself stepping closer anyway, drawn to Vi like gravity.
Before long, they reached Y/N’s car. Vi opened the passenger side and set her bag down carefully, then moved back to stand in front of her, just like last time. Familiar, yet… changed.
Vi didn’t say anything at first. She just watched her, her blue eyes soft in the streetlight, shadowed and thoughtful. Then she leaned in, slow, almost unsure, until their noses nearly brushed. Her voice, when it came, was a whisper.
“You always look like you’re thinking about something important when I catch you off guard.”
Y/N blinked, her breath catching. She hadn’t expected that. Not from Vi. Not tonight.
“Maybe I am,” she whispered back, her hand instinctively reaching out to steady herself on Vi’s arm. She could feel the warmth of her through the thin fabric.
Vi’s gaze dropped to her lips again. Her hand hovered again at Y/N’s waist, then rested just an inch away, like she didn’t want to cross the line unless Y/N asked her to.
The moment pulsed between them, full of possibility. Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest, unsure if she wanted to close the distance or hold it just a little longer. She could feel the shift, the way Vi wasn’t just teasing anymore. This wasn’t just a game.
“I… should go,” Y/N said finally, her voice trembling slightly.
Vi stepped back immediately, something like regret flashing behind her eyes, though her smile never faltered. “Yeah,” she said, clearing her throat. “Yeah, I get it.”
Y/N opened her car door slowly, glancing back as she got in. Vi was still watching her, like she didn’t want to look away yet.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” she said, quiet but sincere.
“Night, Vi,” Y/N replied, closing the door gently.
As she pulled out of the lot, she saw Vi still standing there in her rearview mirror. Still watching. Still waiting.
And all Y/N could think was how badly she wanted to turn around and tell her she wasn’t ready to say goodnight just yet.
୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ taglist !
@daughterofthemoons-stuff @strawb4kdior @lover-girl009 @aprilshireath @brianna-merlim @jinririz @arahiraaai @yeinbae @jupitism @ii-vee @vxtanne31 @brooks-lin @re1daway @st0nerlesb0 @starletfemme
#angst#fanfic#fanfiction#fluff#vi x female reader#vi arcane x reader#vi arcane#vi x reader#vi league of legends#vi arcane x y/n#vi arcane x you#arcane x reader#vi x fem!reader#arcane#vi x you#vi x y/n
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No Matter What- Aemond T.
Aemond is in love, and he refused to allow his nephew to have her. He will take her from Jacaerys by any means necessary.
Am I just going to keep writing my fics as if Season 2 didn’t happen at all?
Yeah…it’s very likely, yes🤣���
Also, for the person that DM’d me and asked if I have a name in mind for Y/n when I write for Aemond, yes. In my mind when I write, her name is Rhaella, I just think it’s the most beautiful Targaryen name I’ve heard. I also love Visenya but I feel it’s overused. The only other name I would potentially use would be Saera.
She was surprised by her Uncles attitude from the moment she first saw him again.
Y/n and Aemond had been best friends in their childhood. She had climbed onto the back of the Grey Ghost when she was only 5 years old (most people believing that the Dragon knew they were the same when it came to how shy and avoidant they were).
They hadn’t been close up until that point, only being 5 and 6 years old and both being outcasts among their family (though she almost preferred it that way). Y/n had offered to take Aemond with her flying one night after Aegon, Jace and Luke had ridiculed him again and he actually agreed, resting his hand on the nose of a dragon for the first time as Y/n calmed him. Climbing into the saddle and holding onto his niece had been awkward and a bit embarrassing until they were in the air and Aemond knew he was truly born for this.
From then on Y/n offered to take him with her quite often, always after their brothers had bullied one of them again. She comforted him, even once letting Aemond take the reigns and fly Ghost himself (which the pale dragon didn’t like at all sadly and only lasted a few moments), but the fact that she had done it meant the world to him. He promised to take Y/n with him on his dragon as soon as he mounts one, wanting desperately to impress her.
Aemond was Obsessed
Their friendship lasted like that for almost 4 years before that horrible night when Aemond was attacked by her brothers. He had been so excited to tell her about Vhagar, he had actually been running inside to wake her and take her flying like he promised when he was cut off.
She had held his hand from the moment she ran in, trying to comfort him as much as she was able until her mother pulled her away. Aemond raged when she was dragged away from his side but he was held down by Criston Cole from trying to take his Princess back, Daemon carrying the 9 year olds squirming body out and away from him.
As they all left the next morning he tried to find her, Rhaenyra glaring at him as he searched the courtyard and he knew her mother hadn’t let her come and say “goodbye”…that night was the last time he saw her for almost 9 years…
It was the worst thing Rhaenyra could have done. She had made her younger brother desperate, and desperate men do desperate things…he would have her back. No Matter What.
Aemond dreamed about nothing but his niece every single day after, determined to make her his despite the fact that her mother would never betroth her to him. He knew the only way he could make her his wife was to take her and make it the only option, Alicent would most definitely force their wedding very quickly rather than watch the only “legitimate” grandchild of her husband (other than his brother and sisters 3 children) carry a child unwed (as she was Daemons daughter “secretly” but could at least be passed off as not being Harwin Strongs).
When he finally saw her again he felt his breath stolen from his body, she was stunning, the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on. A women now, standing just shorter than Jace as she watched him in his training session with Cole. Aemond fought hard, determined to show her what he had become and he quickly ended the fight with his sword at his trainers throat.
‘Well done my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.’
Aemond rolled his eyes at that. ‘I don’t give a shit about tourneys…nephews. Have you come to train?’ He questioned, looking over the both of them before making eye contact with Y/n who blushed heavily as he did. ‘Niece. It is a pleasure to lay eyes on you again…and you are truly a sight to behold.’ He stepped closer, shoving himself between the Strongs to take her hand in his, lifting it to his lips and looking into her lovely purple eyes. Aemond was comforted to see no fear or disgust on her face, but her beautiful blush was something he wanted to see forever. ‘You are just as gorgeous as I imagined you to be.’ He whispered, leaning close to her ear.
‘Thank you Uncle. You have become ever more handsome, a man grown. The ladies must be fighting tooth and nail for your affections.’ She teased, however before he could respond and insist that he wanted no affections but her own, her bastard brother snatched her hand from his.
‘I would thank you to keep your hands to yourself Uncle, my betrothed should not be touched by anyone but me.’ Jace spoke with a smirk on his face. Anyone with eyes knew Aemond had always been in love with Y/n and his nephew was smug to be able to take any kind of happiness away from him as he always had done.
Aemond composed himself immediately, smiling down at him kindly but Jace could see the rage in his eye, the silent threat that he was giving being clear. ‘I suppose congratulations are in order then.’ And though he said it, he gave none before smiling at Y/n who was then pulled in the opposite direction and out of the courtyard.
‘I do not want to see him touching you again, do you understand me?’ Jace demanded as they got into the castle, Y/n pulling her hand from his angrily.
‘You are not yet my husband brother, don’t you dare order me as if you are. I still have plenty of time to tell mother I would rather be betrothed to anyone but you and that Baela can be Queen by your side one day. I am not an object for you to take possession of!’ And with that she stormed off, Aemond around the corner having heard the whole thing. He knew exactly how to get his girl to be his…though he doubted it would be hard with how his nephew treated his Queen.
‘You should be kinder to your future Queen-‘
‘She is mine, whether she likes it or not. I am to be the King one day, she cannot refuse me.’ Jace joked with Luke who snorted, Aemond turning and leaving the hall. Y/n was his future wife, no matter what he had to do to make sure of it.
After the horrific meeting to attempt to give Driftmark to anyone but Luke he was sadly reestablished as heir thanks to the King and Aemond found himself in a bit of trouble with everyone at dinner after calling his nephews Strong.
All of them were sent to their chambers and he hightailed it back to her chamber, slipping in before his niece and her guard arrived, hiding behind the wardrobe in case anyone came in with her.
‘I am tired Jacaerys, all I want is a good, long sleep. Just leave me be for the night, I will not answer you if you come back! I need no protection from you!’ She snapped as the door opened.
‘If Aemond-‘
‘Aemond is not here! And now you are not here either, go to your own chambers and give me a night of peaceful sleep after all of this Bullshit!’ She slammed the door, locking it instantly and Aemond could feel his cock hardening in his breeches. Something about hearing her reject Jace was a turn on for him in a major way and he wanted to mark her neck up with as many bite marks as possible, he needed to show his nephew who his Princess truly belonged to.
‘That was impressive.’ Aemond spoke, seeing her nearly jump a foot in the air as she gasped. ‘Apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you…I just wanted to see you. I knew your betrothed would not allow you even a moment in my presence.’ Her eyes were slit instantly as he said this.
‘Jace thinks he can control me but I will not let myself be that kind of wife! I am not an object to be owned, to be ordered around in front of his friends to make him look like a strong man or King! I do not want to be his wife or his Queen!’ She snapped and Aemond did his best to look at her softly, wanting her to see his empathy and her eyes widened as she realized what she had done. ‘I am so sorry Kepus! You did not deserve that, I am not angry at you. I am so-‘ (Uncle)
‘Breathe Byka Dārilaros…it is alright. I understand how angry he makes you feel, I hate him as well, remember?’ He teased and she chuckled before stepping forward and not hesitating to wrap her arms around his body, resting her head on his chest. (Little Princess)
‘I missed you so much Kepus…I wanted to write to you but my mother wouldn’t let me. She said it was a betrayal to Luke and that since you didn’t write to me, you clearly wouldn’t care but I-‘
‘I did write to you. I sent letters for months before I received one from my sister telling me to stop, that you did not want to hear from me but I knew that was a lie . There was not a single day that passed that I did not think about how much I missed you…’ Aemond looked down at her, his arms around her to hold her to him, hesitating only a moment as he looked into her soft eyes and pressed his lips to hers.
She surprised him a bit when she didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, her hands moving to hold his shirt tightly as he took her face into his and held her close. Y/n was his everything and he had been craving for this exact moment since he was 6 years old, wanting to kiss her since the moment they first flew together. She will be his and he will keep her close forever, determined to never let anyone touch what is his ever again-especially Jace.
‘You are so perfect…’ he mumbled against her lips before pulling away and resting his forehead on hers. ‘Do you want this? I don’t want to force you into anything you do not desire, my love…however I want you to be mine. I have craved you for so many years and I will cherish the ground you walk on if you will be mine.’ Aemond knew giving her the choice would make the difference in pushing her to do what she wanted even against her mothers wishes.
‘I love you Kepus, I always have…our mothers will never-‘
‘There is a way…My mother will insist upon it if I have already filled you with my son…’ he tried to speak softly, let her know that it is her choice to make. ‘I love you Byka Dārilaros, and I want you to be my wife more than anything. The thought of being forced to marry another turns my stomach however I will never force myself upon you. If you would marry Jace then I will love you from afar…but if you want me then I will make love to you right here and now. I will pleasure you all night long until you are so full of me there is no doubt you carry my son and then I will sleep inside of your pretty little cunt for our family to find come morning…let me love you in every way that he can’t.’ There were tears in her eyes as he finished speaking to her and he moved to wipe them away before she spoke again. Y/n reached up, taking the eyepatch covering his sapphire into her fingers before he caught her wrist awkwardly. No lady had ever seen his face and not been uncomfortable or disgusted by it which is why he always covered it whenever he wasn’t alone in his room or in the library.
‘I would look upon your face and see all that you are…while you fill me with our first child.’ He looked at her, startled for a moment before he released her hand and she pulled the eyepatch off.
‘First of many…I will fill you with as many children as you desire.’ Aemond promised before kissing her again, his hands moving to the back of her dress where he unlaced the corset and pulled it down her arms, lifting her out of the dress and moving to drop her onto the bed. She pulled off her small clothes as she watched him remove his shirt and breeches, leaving him bare and revealing his hard cock that was already leaking. ‘You are so beautiful, my love…tell me that you’re mine.’ Aemond insisted, his hand giving his member a firm stroke.
‘I’m yours Kepus, all yours forever.’ She promised as he crawled over her, kissing his jaw and down his neck sweetly. She was just so precious he couldn’t help the needy feeling in his chest demanding he take her.
‘All mine! Should any man look at you even a moment too long ever again, I will remove their eyes and feed them to the ravens.’ Aemond pushed her legs apart more so that he could settle between them, feeling her wetness on his cock for the first time and nearly cumming on the spot. He gave her a moment to relax herself upon pushing into her however she shocked him once again, moaning like a whore only a moment later prompting him to shove his hand over her mouth. ‘If someone hears you then your guard will come in here and we will be dragged apart. I would hear your lovely moans forevermore once I’ve filled your cunt but for now you must hush.’ She whined but bit her bottom lip hard to keep from making any loud noises. Aemond loved the knowledge that he could make her moan like that, in love with fucking her body already as he thrust up into her roughly. Her nails dug into his shoulders, scratching down his back painfully which sent a rush of pleasure through his belly upon him sucking hard on her throat, biting into her perfect skin quite hard and covering her mouth with a hand once again as she nearly screamed, her pussy tightening around his cock in a way he had never felt before which practically dragged his own end from his body. ‘Gods be good, I’ve never felt anything like that before…you felt good?’ It was an insecure moment of him needing that reassurance and while with anyone else he would have been instantly embarrassed, she nodded, quite dazed it seemed and he knew she didn’t judge him for a moment. ‘Your cunt is a form of blissful ecstasy I did not know was attainable. You are mine now Y/n…say it…’
‘Yours Aemond…all yours…you will be my husband as soon as next week and you will be able to have me anytime and any place you desire. I never thought it could feel like that…I love you Kepus.’ Her words touched him and in that moment Aemond knew that he would never need anyone else in this world again as long as he had Y/n and their future silver haired babies.
‘I love you too Mandianna, I always have. From this night on they will never be able to steal you from me again! You are all mine Y/n…and I will take pleasure in making sure everyone knows it.’ He made his point as he thrust his hard cock up into her once more prompting her sharp intake of breath, nails digging into his forearms before pulling him down to kiss her. (Niece)
Aemond spent the night filling his future wife with as much of his seed as his body held, biting her perfect pale skin everywhere he could reach and ensuring no one would ever be able to argue who she belonged to again. He finally had what he had always wanted, the only things left to do was put a tiara upon her head and meet their children.
The knock on the door was the thing that awakened the both of them the next morning quite early and far too soon considering how many hours Aemond had spent filling his bride…(6 hours). It was frantic and Aemond groaned, pulling Y/n closer into his chest as he was happy to ignore it before her mother shouted.
‘Y/n! You aren’t at breakfast and neither is Aemond! If he is in there with you…!’ She warned and Aemond found the half threat amusing.
‘Aemond! Are you in there?!’ His mother was the one shouting through the door now and he smiled, kissing his soon-to-be-wife’s lips before responding.
‘Good morning mother!’ He responded.
‘You Little Fuck! If you’ve hurt my daughter I swear to all of the Gods!’ Rhaenyra raged. ‘Daemon! Get This Door Open!’ She demanded.
‘He did not hurt me mother!’ Y/n stated just before the first loud hit to the door causing his girl to scream, turning to hide her face into his neck as he sat up. It took 2 more strikes before the door burst open and their mothers entered along with Daemon and Otto. Y/n was covered up to her waist while her upper body was pressed to his leaving only her back exposed.
‘Aemond! What have you done?’ Alicent asked sadly, clearly trying to think of a solution, knowing there was only one in this situation.
‘You all know that we have loved each other since we were children. Did you think that would go away just because you didn’t give her my letters sister?’ Rhaenyra’s eyes widened before she glared at him in a rage.
‘What is he talking about?’ His mother asked.
‘I didn’t want him speaking to her! She will not marry her Uncle like-‘
‘Like you did?’ Alicent deadpanned making the Princess look to her. ‘She will actually marry her Uncle, from this moment they are betrothed-‘
‘My daughter is already betrothed to-‘
‘Not anymore!’ Otto cut her off. ‘From this moment on the Princess Y/n Velaryon is to be wed to Prince Aemond Targaryen. The wedding will take place at the end of the week, we cannot have anyone knowing of these indiscretions when she begins to show as I am assuming she is likely pregnant?’ He asked Aemond who grinned.
‘Oh, most definitely. I’ve left no doubt that she carry’s my son. I was actually planning on filling her with another one before you so rudely broke the door down-‘
‘Do not push your luck Aemond!’ His Grandsire warned.
‘I should remove your head you insolent little shit.’ Daemon growled, Aemond seeing the rage in his eyes.
‘Then your grandchild would be without a father, Uncle. What purpose would that serve except ensuring your daughter hates you?’ Y/n moved her hand to pinch his side making him jump. ‘I’m sorry Byka Dārilaros.’
Aemond could see the surprise at his apology in his mother and Grandsire’s eyes. ‘Maybe this will be a good thing after all.’ Otto considered before turning to leave the room.
‘No more fooling around. Get dressed and get to breakfast. Now.’ With that his mother guided Rhaenyra and Daemon reluctantly out of the room.
‘Can your husband help you get dressed my love?’ Aemond questioned and she kissed his shoulder before biting his neck as he had done to her about 30 times the previous night, the evidence of which was very clear to see all over her chest and breasts. Aemond was proud though, because while she could hide those the 5 marks on her neck were not able to be hidden before breakfast where he was eager for Jace to see them.
They were both dressed 10 minutes later, their hair staying down until after they broke their fast for the day, Aemond leading her down the halls and enjoying the smile on his girls face as they entered the room with their family. He sat her down beside him and watched her fill her plate and eat, clearly hungry from their previous nights activities which filled him with pride at being able to satisfy his wife.
‘What is that?’ A voice demanded and everyone looked up to see Jace pointing at Y/n’s neck.
‘Jace, we will discuss this after we eat. You-‘
‘No!’ He cut his mother off, jumping up from his seat and moving to Y/n’s side in an instant, yanking her hair to the side and looking at her neck. Aemond heard her whimper in pain as he pulled her hair, holding her chin to expose her throat to him and he was instantly up from his chair with his hands on Jace.
‘That’s Enough!’ Rhaenyra shouted before Aemond punched his nephew who nearly flew backwards at the force his fist caused before he moved to grab him again, a voice calling his name through the jumble of people yelling which had his attention immediately.
‘Come eat with me Kepus, please?’ Y/n asked softly and he couldn’t deny her that as she held her hand out. Aemond moved to take it, lifting her onto his lap and sitting to eat, feeding her and feeling proud at providing her what she needs, thoroughly enjoying her feeding him as well.
It seemed that everyone was shocked at Aemond disengaging from the fight but his attention was on his soon to be wife as it should be. ‘We should go for a morning flight after breakfast…let me take you for a ride as I promised, late as the kept promise may be.’ Y/n looked up at him and he could see her surprise which he found adorable.
‘You…you want me to-to ride Vhagar?’ She questioned and he chuckled.
‘Not alone of course but yes, I had wanted to take you up with me the night I mounted her but that clearly didn’t happen. It will be fun, I promise.’ The smile on his girls face was worth everything to him. She was precious and he would keep his wife happy no matter what. If that meant that his nephews and older sister needed to be un-happy, then that was just icing on the cake for him.
He finally took her flying with him later that day, though it made her own dragon quite grumpy and forced her to take Ghost for his own flight before they could go back home. Aemond had finally kept his promise, and had ensured he got exactly what he wanted in the end.
Now all that is left for Aemond to do is figure out how to make Y/n his Queen and fulfill his dream of his wife riding him on the Iron Throne.
That one may take a bit more work, but he would ensure it, No Matter What.
Aemond T. Masterlist
#house of the dragon#house of the dragon aemond#house targaryen#hotd season 1#hotd season 2#hotd smut#hotd aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#hotd imagine#hotd x reader#hotd#Aemond Targaryen#aemond targaryen x oc#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x y/n#aemond targaryen smut#Aemond#aemond one eye#prince aemond targaryen#prince aemond#aemond targaryen fic#aemond x reader#aemond smut#aemond fic#aemond x oc#ewan mitchell#Vhagar#grey ghost
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Ghost is shocked by your immunity to being tased.
I received an ask from an anon for this story. Unfortunately, either Tumblr ate it, or I accidentally deleted it; I can’t be sure because I trust neither of us. Gladly, I remember the gist of it. I hope that anon sees it. (Sorry, anon, and thank you for the ask.)
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You push open the workshop door, and notice a curated display of taser gear spread across the table for today’s training session. Ghost, your lieutenant and trainer for the day, occupies a corner, busy with extracting all sorts of stuff—taser guns, pulses, stun batons—from bags and placing them on the table. He catches the sound of your entrance and turns halfway to face you.
“You’re early,” he mutters under his breath.
“I just couldn’t wait, Lieutenant,” you reply sarcastically.
He huffs. “We’ll see about that once training’s over.”
You approach the table, and look at the equipment. You reach out and grasp a taser gun. It looks exactly like a pistol but bulkier and has yellow elements to distinguish it from firearms.
“Could you please remind me how this baby works?” you ask.
He turns his entire body towards you and contemplates your question. Although the training session is just half an hour away, and he doesn’t technically need to explain anything, you’re his weak spot. So he leaves the gear in the bag, walks towards you, and begins to give you a detailed explanation.
It almost feels like a private session, but you have ulterior motives—you’ve already been through a similar class in the past and are eager to skip this one. Despite your repeated attempts to convey this to Ghost, he remained adamant that this course would be a refresher for you and, thus, necessary.
“Once you have a clear shot, you press the trigger.” He concludes.
“Like this?” you ask, directing the taser towards your right foot and squeezing the trigger. It stings, but your previous training has taught you how to get used to the feeling and handle the pain better. Or at least make it look that way.
Your poor lieutenant stands speechless as he looks at the now-fired taser gun. He slowly looks down, where his shocked eyes trace the two wires extending from the device, connecting to your foot.
“What the fuck did you do?” he shouts, gesturing towards your leg.
“Jeez, Lt., you seem stunned,” you comment.
“Are you having a laugh, soldier?” He scolds you with as much authority as he has left from what he just experienced. He drops to the ground, working to remove the wires from your foot. He stands up, alternating his gaze between the device and your leg. Finally, he turns to you.
“How come you’re not in pain?” he asks, confused.
You shrug, unaffected, and pick up another taser from the table. “Maybe the first one was defective; let’s give this one a go,” you suggest, aiming at your other foot and firing.
“Are you out of your mind, Y/N?” he screams in a high-pitched voice and kneels again to retrieve the second taser from your foot.
“Come on, Lt., it’s not as bad as it seems!” You reassure him with a grin, seizing a third taser from the table. This time, you point it at Ghost’s leg. “Wanna see?”
He lifts his knee and gathers his arms close to his body. He looks like a pitcher, ready to throw the ball in a baseball match.
“No, no, thank you very much”, he protests.
“Sure?” You ask and aim at his other leg on the ground.
“Absolutely certain, you maniac,” he says, switching legs. “How far are you willing to go to skip this class?!”
“Not too far,” you reply with a smile, “as far as these two wires go when they get propelled from the taser gun.”
“Cut it out!”
To his relief, the rest of the team enters the room, and Ghost instantly transitions into his authoritative persona. He places both feet on the ground, protrudes his chest, and places both hands on his waist. He clears his throat.
“Take your positions, everyone,” he commands, “everyone except for you, Y/N.”
“Why am I excluded, Lieutenant?” you ask with a pout and a playful wink. “Is it because I’m unfazed?”
“Nah, soldier,” he replies and walks behind you to tidy the wires from the already-shot taser guns, “it’s because you’re a live wire—always keeping me on my toes.”
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#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x y/n#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x gn!reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#simon riley#call of duty#modern warfare 2#cod mwii#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#ghost cod mw2#cod mw2 fanfic#ghost cod mwii#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost riley fic
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I recently saw a person that was walking around with a Munna latched onto their head. The person seemed to act normal enough so I'm wondering if that's just a standard behavior for Munna?
sounds like their munna was just comfy and taking a little break! munna almost always float in the air so they can make a quick getaway if necessary, so this munna likely just felt safe enough to settle down.
munna can only eat dreams when someone is sleeping, and you'll see a bunch of dream mist puffing out of them when they do. they also don't typically hold onto the head of whoever's dream they're eating, because that's not as safe for them. so i have a feeling this was just a happy munna out with its trainer!
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THREESOME
JUDE BELLINGHAM
TRENT ALEXANDER - ARNOLD



THE LATE AFTERNOON light spilled into your apartment, painting the living room in soft golds and shadows. You were sprawled on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when the door buzzed. Jude and Trent had texted earlier about swinging by after training—something about needing to unwind. You'd known them long enough to expect a bit of trouble whenever they showed up, but today felt different, charged in a way you couldn't quite place.
Jude pushed through the door first, all easy swagger, dropping his gym bag by the entrance. "Oh, you look too comfortable," he teased, his voice carrying that playful edge as he kicked off his trainers and flopped onto the armchair across from you. His dark eyes flicked over you, lingering a second too long.
Trent followed, quieter but no less intense, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"She's always comfortable. It's her place, Yeah?" he said, his gaze catching yours before he wandered toward the kitchen. "You got anything cold? It's been a long one."
"Yeah, fridge is stocked," you called after him, sitting up a little straighter. Jude stretched out, his shirt riding up just enough to show a sliver of toned stomach, and you caught yourself staring before looking away. "Rough session?"
Jude grinned, propping his head on his hand. "Nah, just Trent being a show-off. Thought he'd outpace me in drills. Didn't happen."
Trent reappeared with a bottle of water, rolling his eyes as he twisted the cap off. "Keep telling yourself that, mate. I had you beat by a mile." He took a sip, then nodded at you. "What about you? Been up to much, or just waiting for us to liven things up?"
You shrugged, feeling the air shift slightly, their presence filling the room in a way that made your pulse tick up. "Just chilling. Didn't know I'd be hosting a post-training debrief."
Jude's laugh was low, warm. "Debrief? Nah, this is more like... downtime. Right, Trent?"
Trent set the bottle down, stepping closer to the couch. "Yeah, downtime." His tone was casual, but there was something in his eyes—something that matched the way Jude was looking at you now, like they were in on a secret you hadn't quite figured out yet. "You mind if we stick around a bit longer?"
You raised an eyebrow, sensing the undercurrent. "Depends. You two gonna behave?"
Jude's smirk widened, and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Define 'behave.'"
Trent chuckled, moving to sit on the arm of the couch near you, close enough that you could feel the heat off him. "He's trouble. You know that. Question is, you up for it?"
The room felt smaller suddenly, their words hanging in the air like a dare.
You tilted your head, meeting Trent's gaze first, then Jude's, letting the moment stretch just long enough to keep them guessing. "You already know how i get down," you said finally, a smirk tugging at your lips. "But you two already knew that."
Jude's eyes lit up, a spark of something wild flashing in them as he slid off the armchair and onto the couch beside you, closer than necessary. "I know," he murmured, his knee brushing yours, the contact deliberate and lingering. "You've got that look—like you've been waiting for us to start something."
Trent shifted, sliding down from the armrest to settle on your other side, boxing you in. His arm draped casually over the back of the couch, fingers grazing your shoulder as he leaned in.
"She's been waiting all right," He said, voice low and teasing. "Question is, how long you gonna make us work for it?"
You laughed, the sound light but edged with heat, your skin prickling under their combined attention. "Work? Please. You two have been throwing signals all day—Jude's hand on my back in the kitchen, you 'accidentally' bumping into me earlier, Trent. I'm not blind."
Jude grinned, unrepentant, his hand finding your thigh now, resting there with a weight that sent a shiver up your spine. "Caught me. Can't help it—you're too fucking tempting just sitting there."
Trent's fingers moved, tracing a slow line along your neck, his touch featherlight but enough to make your breath hitch. "He's right. Been thinking about this since we walked in. You in those leggings, this place smelling like you—it's distracting."
The air thickened, their words and touches winding you tighter, and you decided to push back, testing the waters. "Distracting, huh? Maybe I should kick you out then. Let you cool off."
Jude's grip on your thigh tightened slightly, his voice dropping. "Don't you dare. We're just getting started." He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke, warm and rough. "Unless you're scared you can't handle us."
Trent's hand slid down to your collarbone, his thumb pressing lightly against your pulse point, feeling it jump. "Yeah," he added, his lips curling into a smirk. "You're tough, but two of us? That's a different game."
You turned your head, catching Trent's eye, then Jude's, letting the challenge hang between you. "Scared? Please. I'm just wondering if you two can keep up with me." You shifted, leaning back against the couch cushions, stretching your arms along the backrest so your fingers brushed against both of them. "Prove it."
That was all it took. Jude moved first, his hand sliding higher up your thigh as he closed the gap, his mouth finding yours in a kiss that was all heat and hunger, no hesitation. His tongue swept past your lips, claiming you with a roughness that made your head spin, while his free hand tugged at the hem of your shirt, impatient.
Trent didn't wait his turn. His lips landed on your neck, soft at first, then harder, teeth grazing your skin as he sucked a mark into place. His hand slipped under your shirt from the other side, fingers skimming your ribs before cupping your breast, squeezing through the thin fabric of your bra.
"Fuck, you're soft," he muttered against your skin, his breath hot and uneven.
You moaned into Jude's kiss, your hands moving—one tangling in Jude's short curls, the other reaching for Trent's shoulder, pulling him closer. Jude broke away, his lips wet and red, grinning as he yanked your shirt up and over your head, tossing it somewhere behind the couch.
"Better," he said, eyes raking over you, dark with want.
Trent unhooked your bra with a flick of his fingers, letting it fall away, and they both paused for a second, taking you in.
"Christ," Trent breathed, his hand returning to your chest, rolling a nipple between his fingers until it hardened, drawing a sharp gasp from you.
Jude didn't waste time, leaning down to take the other in his mouth, his tongue flicking over it, then sucking hard enough to make your back arch.
The dual sensation—their hands, their mouths—had you squirming, heat pooling low in your belly. "You two don't mess around," you managed, voice shaky, and Jude chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending another jolt through you.
"Not when it's you," he said, pulling back to meet your eyes, his hand sliding down to the waistband of your leggings.
"We've been thinking about this too long." Trent nodded, his fingers already dipping beneath the fabric, teasing along your hip.
"So let's not wait anymore," Trent added, his voice rough with need as he tugged the leggings down, taking your panties with them in one smooth motion.
You kicked them off, bare now under their gazes, and the way they looked at you—like they were starving—made your pulse race.
The cool leather sticking slightly to your heated skin, and the air buzzed with the raw energy radiating off and Trent. Their eyes devoured you—Jude's dark and wild, Trent's sharp and smoldering—and the weight of their attention had your heart pounding in your chest.
Jude knelt between your legs, his hands rough and possessive as he gripped your thighs, spreading them wide until you were completely exposed to him.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous like this," he growled, his voice thick with lust, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to your core, teasing without touching.
He leaned in, his breath hot against your skin, and then his tongue was on you, licking a slow, deliberate stripe through your folds. The sensation hit you like a lightning bolt, your hips jerking as a loud moan tore from your lips.
Trent stayed beside you, his presence a steady heat as he tilted your chin toward him, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, sloppy and desperate. His hand slid up your side, cupping your breast again, his fingers pinching your nipple with just enough pressure to make you whimper into him.
"Love those sounds," he muttered against your lips, pulling back to watch your face twist with pleasure as Jude worked you below. "Keep making 'em."
Jude's tongue found your clit, circling it with a precision that had you seeing stars, and you grabbed at his head, fingers tangling in his curls to anchor yourself. He groaned into you, the sound vibrating through your core, and pushed two fingers inside, thick and unyielding, curling them against that spot that made your whole body tense.
"So fucking wet," he rasped, pulling back just enough to look up at you, his lips glistening with you. "You've been wanting this, haven't you?"
You couldn't answer, not with Trent's hand sliding down to join Jude's efforts, his fingers rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit while Jude pumped in and out. The double assault had your thighs trembling, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
"Shit—oh God," you managed, voice breaking, and Trent smirked, leaning down to suck a bruising mark into your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse.
"Come for him," Trent whispered, his voice low and commanding, his fingers relentless. "Let us see you fall apart."
You did, spectacularly, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you shaking, your pussy clenching hard around Jude's fingers as you soaked him, a scream tearing from your throat.
Jude didn't stop, his tongue lapping at you through the waves, drawing out every shudder until you were a trembling mess, slumped against the couch. When he finally pulled back, his face was slick with you, and he grinned, wiping his chin with a smug, "Told you I'd make you scream."
Trent chuckled, his hand stroking your thigh as he watched you catch your breath.
"My turn," he said, voice rough with anticipation as he stood, stripping off his shirt and jeans in one fluid motion. His body was lean and powerful, his cock springing free—long, curved, and already dripping with need.
He didn't give you time to recover, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your stomach, pulling you up onto your knees so your ass was high and inviting.
"Been dying to fuck you like this," He growled, his hands spreading you open as he positioned himself at your entrance.
You braced yourself on the cushions, still reeling, but Trent didn't ease in—he thrust deep in one brutal stroke, filling you completely and knocking the air from your lungs.
"Trent—fuck!" you cried, your fingers clawing at the leather as he set a punishing pace, his hips slamming against you with a rhythm that was all raw need.
He hit deep, stretching you in a way that made your eyes roll back, and you pushed back against him, craving more.
Jude wasn't content to just watch. He climbed onto the couch in front of you, shedding his clothes until his thick, heavy cock bobbed free, precum beading at the tip. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, tilting your head up with a gentle tug.
"Open up, love," He said, voice hoarse and thick with want, and you parted your lips, letting him slide inside.
His taste was salty and hot, and he groaned loud as you took him deep, your tongue swirling around him before you sucked, hard.
The scene was pure chaos—Trent fucking you from behind, his hands gripping your hips so tight you'd bruise, Jude thrusting into your mouth, his grip in your hair guiding you just how he liked.
"So fucking tight," Trent grunted, one hand sliding around to rub your clit again, slick and messy from your last orgasm, while the other landed a sharp smack on your ass, the sting making you moan around Jude's cock.
Jude's hips jerked at the vibration, his breath hitching. "Goddamn, you're perfect," he rasped, pushing deeper until you gagged, tears welling in your eyes as you struggled to take him. "Love seeing you choke on me—keep going." His free hand stroked the base of his cock, slick with your spit, and the sight of him touching himself while you sucked him off sent a fresh wave of heat through you.
The pressure was building again, Trent's fingers on your clit and his relentless thrusts driving you toward another edge. You could feel him pulsing inside you, his rhythm faltering as he neared his own release, and Jude's groans grew louder, his cock twitching against your tongue.
"Gonna come," you mumbled around Jude, the words muffled and desperate, and Trent spanked you again, harder. "Do it," he growled. "Squeeze me dry."
It hit you like a storm, your third orgasm crashing over you, your pussy spasming around Trent as you screamed, the sound choked by Jude's cock. Trent cursed, his thrusts turning sloppy before he buried himself deep, spilling inside you with a low, guttural moan, his hands digging into your hips. Jude pulled out just in time, finishing across your face in hot, sticky streaks, painting your lips and cheeks as he panted above you, his chest heaving.
You collapsed forward onto the couch, breathless and shaking, Trent's come dripping down your thighs, Jude's streaked across your face. They both flopped beside you, spent and panting, the air thick with the aftermath.
Jude reached over, swiping a thumb across your lips to smear his mess, then grinned, popping it into his own mouth. "Taste good," he said, voice rough and lazy.
Trent laughed, low and exhausted, his hand resting on your back, tracing idle patterns. "You're a fucking mess," he said, but there was a softness to it, a hint of something more. "We're not done yet, though. Bedroom next—I want you on your back, legs up, so I can see every inch of you when I fuck you again."
Jude nodded, his cock already twitching back to life at the thought. "And I'm taking that ass," he added, his grin turning wicked. "You ready for more, or you tapping out?"
You smirked, wiping your face with the back of your hand, still high on the rush. "You wish. Give me a sec, then bring it on."
They exchanged a look, a silent agreement that the night was far from over, and Trent stood, offering you a hand to pull you up. "Let's go, then," he said, his voice promising more filth, more fire, as he led you toward the bedroom, Jude close behind, ready to wreck you all over again.
#jude bellingham smut#trent alexander arnold#fanfic#smut#wattpad#paris#trent alexander imagines#football#jude bellingham#jude and trent
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someone requested [ Manhattan + salt rim + neat ] and I accidentally deleted it but i remembered!!
warnings: leashes (yup like for dogs 🤭) minors dni, thank you thank you thank you thank you for this request 🥵
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Azriel knew it was going to be an issue—you spending so much time with Nesta Archeron.
He’d found it cute at first. His sweet girl making friends with someone as prickly as death incarnate, until he’d started noticing the changes. How kind words shift into a biting wit; adopting a darker kind of humor that leaves his brows raised and tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. “Come bunny, it’s time to get out of bed.”
Perhaps it’s in that learned behavior where you find the gall to part your lips and mutter, “No, I’m not going.”
It’s surprising—your defiance. Enough for him to pause in the middle of his morning routine, thigh holsters half buckled with an array of sharpened daggers and switchblades laid out before him. “Say that again?”
“To training,” You elaborate, mindlessly toying with the fraying edges of your nail varnish. Soft sheets swallow you whole, thick pillows and duvets emitting Azriel’s comforting scent all around you. “I’m not going today.”
For only a second he falters before his movements start up again, deft fingers easily buckling strips of leather and filling the slots with weapons. “Are you not feeling well?”
“I’m feeling like I don’t want to sweat under the burning sun all fucking day.” Your eyes are too busy rolling at the thought to notice the tick of Azriel’s jaw, the strained way he tightens his belt. “Nes and I are going shopping after brunch instead.”
“Oh?” There’s a pause, a tense silence that forces you to lean up on your elbows, neck craning to peer over at the Illyrian. Though, Azriel’s not getting ready anymore and he’s lounging too comfortably for someone who’d been adamant on following the guidelines of his rigorous schedule. The clock tick, tick, ticks away and for some reason he’s not reaching for his top or the crossbody holsters he slides on after. His hair is still dripping wet from his shower, not even bothering to work his styling pomade through. “Says who?”
He just sits there—watching, waiting. Staring at you like one of the prisoners he chains up in his dungeons; prodding at the barriers of their restraint until the spymaster tore it to shreds. You hate how well it works, chipping away at the fortified walls you’d built in your new friendships. How easily Azriel’s able to walk up to those borders and send them crumbling down with nothing more than a look.
It should be embarrassing, the affect he has on you. The way one arched brow has your spine instinctively straightening, throat rolling with a swallow as you struggle to muster up the same confidence that burned through you just moments ago. “I wasn’t aware I needed permission.”
Azriel hums low in his chest, shoulders relaxing and head nodding once, twice, three times before that stoic expression melts into understanding. “I see, that’s probably my fault. Got a touch lenient—allowed room for a little too much…hope.”
“Hope?”
Alarm bells begin ringing the further he settles in the chair, thick thighs spreading wide and veiny forearms eat up the space along the armrest. “Hope,” he agrees. “Give a good pet a little too much freedom—too much hope and all the necessary structure begins to waver.” You’re caught like a fly in a trap, limbs sticking to the carefully spun webs Az’s woven until your struggle only leaves the metaphorical ropes twisting and knotting tighter. “Don’t worry, I’m a good trainer. Won’t let you slack for a second—even if you do bat those pretty lashes up at me.”
Your mouth goes dry when his wrist flicks, two fingers beckoning you closer in silent command. A part of you hesitates; resists the rigorous discipline and rules put in place to keep you safe. Protected. But Nesta said that you were perfectly capable of protecting yourself without some overgrown bat looming over your shoulder. Right?
You obey anyway, praying that Azriel doesn’t hold the contemplation against you.
The Mother doesn’t seem to hear your plea, too occupied with more deserving persons to spare a second glance at the predicament you’d weaseled your way into. Each step closer feels like knowing wrong and choosing the sin anyway, solidifying your fate and dealing your destiny with the devil for all time. “Sit.”
A huffy breath of irritation before you ease down to your knees, leaning your weight back against your calves. “I’m not some fucking dog.”
“No, you aren’t,” His hand smells of body wash when a thumb runs over the curve of your cheek, blunt nail tracing against the shape of your mouth. It’s almost sweet, toeing the line of possibly romantic when you hear it—the squeaky strain of fresh leather. The cool bite of the latch registers too late, a metallic click locking it in place. “But lately you’ve been acting like one. My rabid mutt.”
Manicured nails grip at the newest accessory but it doesn’t budge no matter how much you tug at it. Your cheeks flame, a mix of fury and pure embarrassment from the rush of arousal that soils your panties when each breath grows just a bit labored. “You fucking collared me?”
“Watch your mouth or I’ll buy a muzzle to match.” He catches on to the way your thighs clench together, lips snapping shut as your brain fights to decide whether you want to scream back a “fuck you” or “fuck me”.
You land somewhere in the middle, words stern but tone leaking with curiosity. “You wouldn’t dare.”
A hellish grin splits across the handsome lines of his face, like a wolf straining in the seams of sheep’s clothing. “Try me.” He’s lost the concept to time when such fun prey has found itself stuck in his crosshairs. Such a sweet lamb should know better than to wander away from its shepherd—heaven forbid something should happen to you. “Test me, I dare you. I’ll walk you through town like some purebred if you keep acting like you weren’t taught to act with decorum.”
He means it too. You know he does. Even after all these years, you still had yet to hear words Azriel’s didn’t back up with action. Instantly, your eyes lower, head bowing in order to conceal the pinpricked pupils that dialate with desire. It burns in your belly, a cacophony of fantasies lashing against your eyelids at warp speed.
You in your shiny collar, name engraved on the customized nameplate with Azriel’s information on the back right under “If Found, Return To”
It’s purely involuntary, the desperate whimper that cuts through the bedchambers and Azriel pats at your head like some pampered pup in need of comfort. Offering love and fond coos when you easily correct the behaviors he doesn’t enjoy.
Obedient. Disciplined. Loyal. His.
“There’s a good girl. Keep that up and I’ll give you a treat.”
#acotar x reader#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#acotar x you#azriel#acotar azriel#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel acotar#azriel fic#azriel spymaster#azriel fanfic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel smut#az smut#az x reader#az x reader smut#blurb bar#sol’s requests#i had too much fun with this#a collar in theory sounds kinda cute to me tbh…until i start overthinking it#but what happens in velaris stays in velaris#city of dreams as they say 🤪#brat tamer az gonna do it for me everytime
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trainer!patrick + puppy!art + trainer!reader
you and patrick are a force to be reckoned with, that’s for sure. art knows it, and he knows that you two know just how much power you each have over him.
patrick is usually the ‘bad guy’ when it comes to punishments, always being the one to deal them out when he deems it necessary. he’s the one who’ll tie art’s hands behind his back and dutifully edge him until he’s wailing, and he’s the one who’ll bend art’s toned body over his lap to spank him while he apologizes for his mistakes.
you’re much more forgiving.
you and patrick actually happen to argue a lot over the so-called ‘best way’ to keep your guys’ plaything in line. your fellow trainer always advocates for negative reinforcement, and refuses to listen when you argue for the positive side of things.
but art’s soft. he’s clingy, he’s touch-starved, and he’s desperate for approval. he responds soo much better when you reward him for a lack of bad behavior, as opposed to patrick’s reversed methodology.
you kiss him all over when you come home and find that he hasn’t touched himself all day, and you let him hump your thigh—your leg clamped between his own—when he uses his manners to ask for it (“please”, “can i”, “thank you so much”, and the like).
so what happens when you and patrick corner him in bed after a day of ups and downs?
well..
it only makes sense that patrick’s fingers are down art’s throat; the blonde’s drool bubbling and dripping down his chin as he chokes on the intrusion. after all, he’d gotten mouthy with patrick on the courts earlier.
“what? you had such a big mouth this afternoon and now you can’t even take my fingers, mutt?” pat groans down to his friend, watching his watery blue eyes roll back as he whimpers around them, “what’s gonna happen when you take my cock in the next five minutes? open that fuckin’ throat.”
art’s trying with all his might to properly service patrick’s body, to prove to him that he can be good again, even if what art’s sucking on isn’t his meaty dick. the guilt is enough to melt his brain— he’s swallowing like he’s about to get a load pumped right into the back of his mouth.
you, on the other hand, are being unsurprisingly much sweeter. art had been much better with you in the early evening; helping to cook dinner for the three of you and buying a bottle of wine before he got home.
so youre holding a vibrator to his tip while your palm cradles and massages his balls. your balmy tongue sliding over the shell of his ear and then down to the thumping pulse buried in the side of his neck. he’s dribbling all over the toy, but he’s yet to fall over the precipice. you can tell that he’s holding back by the way his thighs shake while he’s sat up over the edge of the mattress, low moans and anguished whimpers coming out muffled due to his occupied mouth.
“good boy, puppy… taking us so well, aren’t you? you know how much we love you, even if patrick gets mean sometimes,” you whisper against his skin, “don’t cry, baby, okay? i know it hurts, i know you wanna come… just hold out a bit longer…”
the tip of the buzzing wand glides down his shaft and then back up to meet his sticky frenulum. god, he can’t take much more..
patrick’s already stuffed his musky cock into art’s mouth in replacement, as promised, and is holding his head still as he bucks into his face. “shit, artie, fuck— angh-! suck me down, just like that, take it—“
art is getting drunk off the sensations and the pleasure alone, but the conflicting ways of handling him and his body only muddle his thoughts further. he’s trying not to gag while patrick facefucks him, and he’s also trying not to climax while you lovingly torture his cockhead.
he can’t think, he can’t move, he can hardly breathe.
a growled voice breaks through his incoherence.
“here it comes, here it— c-comes-!”
and then patrick is burying his length so far down art’s throat that his flushed nose presses into pat’s bush, cumming down his tight throat with a strangled groan. every salty gush of spend is gulped down compulsively by the blonde as he whines. pat smacks his cheek twice: good. boy.
you tenderly mouth at art’s shoulder as he jerks and swallows all of the brunette’s release, and then you decide to show your puppy some mercy.
the flush in art’s cheeks is ruddy when his airway opens up after pat pulls out, and you’re rewarded with increasingly urgent gasps as you lower the vibe to push against his sack. your hand that cupped him there moves; your index finger sucked warmly by your own mouth before it goes down to slip inside his hole. you curl it upwards, teasing that spongy spot, and art’s gone.
the whole world falls right out from under his feet.
“finish for us, puppy.”
art’s hands fly out; one grasping for your wrist and the other for patrick’s hip. he needs you both, he can’t take how good it all feels.
his jaw slacks open and the filthiest, most pornographic moan shudders out of his frame as his back arches and his legs kick out. every contraction of his abdomen results in a lengthy splurt of his orgasm over your wrist and his tummy.
he’s panting, completely overwhelmed with the aftershocks once a good several utterly blissful moments pass, only to come back down to earth at the feeling of a strong hand stroking his hair and a more soft one petting his bicep.
he doesn’t remember much else from that night, but he wakes up the next morning to clean smelling skin and a mess of blankets over his body. you two are gone from the apartment, but you clearly let him sleep-in alone. had you two wiped him down? tucked him in? more than likely.
the only evidence he has that the night prior even happened is a hickey on his collarbone, a lingering heat in his gut, and a note on the dresser.
‘to our pretty boy: see you later tonight…
… be good.’
#🩷 - thirsts#puppy!art#i could not stop thinking about reader and patrick having their way with art together#so this mess came of it#i also thought about writing art getting spit roasted by readers strap and patrick dick#who’s in his mouth and who’s in his ass idk#drabble#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig smut#challengers smut
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AGAINST THE TIDE: PART EIGHT
paige x azzi
word count: 3.5k
A/N: I’m sorry 😔 it’s necessary for the plot. It’s also kinda all the other writers fault because they broke my heart too many times with their updates recently so I was being a masochist. Leave some live reactions and I’ll make it up to you before the weekend is over.
—————————————————————————
September 2022
It had been a whirlwind of a few months for Paige. Between tearing her ACL during a pickup game in August and spending weeks avoiding everyone—including Azzi—things had been rough. At first, Paige couldn’t stand to be around anyone, the weight of her injury crushing her spirit. She didn’t understand why this kept happening to her. The most she could manage was sitting silently on FaceTime with Azzi, who didn’t push, didn’t prod—just sat there on the other end, offering quiet support.
Eventually, Paige started to miss her. Not just the quiet presence on the phone, but Azzi herself. She missed her laugh, her teasing comments, and the way she always seemed to know when Paige needed someone to hold her together. She knew she wouldn’t get better by sulking, so she started physical therapy. Azzi, of course, was by her side every step of the way, cheering her on through the grueling sessions and sneaking in snacks when she thought the trainers weren’t looking. One day Paige even pointed out that Azzi didn’t have to sneak her snacks, she could just give them to her and Azzi shushed her saying it was no fun that way.
The connection between them was undeniable, and as soon as they were back to spending every moment together in person, they fell right back into their old habits—flirting, teasing, and, inevitably, sleeping together. They had been doing that a lot since that night in the Jeep.
Now, their situationship was as confusing as ever. Best friends, friends with benefits, something more—they didn’t bother defining it. What mattered to Azzi was that they were together in some way, even if it wasn’t official.
The team’s popularity had skyrocketed since their championship run, with Paige’s popularity growing right along with it. It seemed like every time they went out, someone stopped her for pictures or autographs. Paige always said yes, her natural charisma making her a magnet for attention. Azzi usually found it amusing—until recently.
She’d never considered herself a jealous person before, but watching people fawn over Paige had started to get under her skin in ways she didn’t want to admit. Paige always teased her about it when they got back to their room, whispering in her ear about how she only had eyes for Azzi. Those moments usually ended with clothes scattered across the floor and all frustration Azzi had prior completely gone.
Tonight, the team was at Ted’s, their usual hangout spot. Paige, still on crutches, sat at their table while Azzi headed to the bar to grab them drinks. Insisting that she didn’t want Paige hobbling across the crowded room.
While waiting for the bartender, Azzi glanced back toward the team’s table—and froze. Three random girls had surrounded Paige, their body language a little too friendly for her liking.
One of them leaned in, her hand brushing against Paige’s forearm as she laughed at something the blonde said. Another one tossed her hair over her shoulder, clearly trying to get Paige’s attention. The third girl just stood there, starry-eyed, hanging on Paige’s every word, though Paige wasn’t saying much.
Paige just smiled and nodded as they spoke, her natural charm working its magic even though she wasn’t meaning for it to.
Paige’s gaze suddenly shifted, locking with Azzi’s from across the room. A slow, knowing smirk spread across her face as if she could feel the possessiveness simmering behind Azzi’s dark eyes. She winked, and Azzi’s jaw clenched.
Azzi grabbed their drinks from the bar, her grip tight around the glasses as she made her way back. When she reached the table, one of the girls noticed her approach and immediately lit up.
“Oh my god, you’re Azzi, right? Paige’s teammate?” she asked, her tone overly friendly.
Azzi raised an eyebrow, placing the drinks down. “Yeah. Teammate,” she replied coolly, slipping into the seat next to Paige—closer than necessary, her shoulder brushing Paige’s.
Paige looked over, biting back a smile at Azzi’s obvious claim of space. “Thanks, Az,” she said lightly, reaching for her drink.
The girls, undeterred, continued talking over one another, their eagerness to capture Paige’s attention almost comical. Paige didn’t lean into it, but she didn’t shut it down either, her polite demeanor keeping the conversation going.
“So, Paige,” one of the girls said, a playful edge to her voice. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
Before Paige could respond, Azzi froze beside her, her grip on her drink a little tight.
“No,” Paige said simply, her tone casual.
Azzi scoffed, the sound loud enough to draw Paige’s attention. Paige glanced at her briefly, her expression unreadable, before turning back to the girls. “Not really looking, though,” she added.
Azzi opened her mouth, ready to make a smart comment, but before she could, one of the girls leaned in closer to Paige. In her attempt to get Paige’s attention, the girl bumped Paige’s injured knee.
Paige winced, her hand immediately going to her leg. The sharp intake of breath she let out wasn’t loud, but it was enough to make Azzi snap.
“You need to be careful,” Azzi said, her voice a little tight, cutting through the noise around them.
The girls all froze, surprised by the sudden shift in Azzi’s tone. She glared at them, her usual calm replaced by an edge of irritation. “I think you guys should go,” she said, her voice low and laced with a little venom.
The three exchanged glances, murmuring awkward excuses and apologies to Paige as they shuffled away, leaving Paige and Azzi alone at the table.
“You didn’t have to scare them off,” Paige said, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice as she reached for her drink.
Azzi turned to her, her gaze softening as it dropped to Paige’s knee. “You okay?”
Paige nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’m fine. Didn’t know you were so protective.”
Azzi rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “Someone has to be, considering how much you clearly love the attention.”
Paige chuckled, leaning toward her. “Only yours,” she whispered, her voice teasing.
Azzi’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile, her earlier anger melting away as Paige’s words settled between them.
…
The night continued with its usual buzz, but Paige and Azzi remained in their corner, the tension between them slowly dissolving as they sipped their drinks. They’d fallen into their familiar rhythm, laughing and leaning close as they talked about everything and nothing all at the same time.
That was, until another woman approached their table, her sights set squarely on Paige. Azzi noticed her immediately—the confident stride, the deliberate way she positioned herself in Paige’s line of sight, and the overly friendly smile she flashed.
“Hi,” the woman said, her voice smooth as she directed her attention toward Paige, completely ignoring Azzi. “I just wanted to say I’m a huge fan. You’re incredible on the court.”
Paige, immersed in her conversation with Azzi, looked up, her expression polite but distant. “Thank you,” she said, her tone kind but not inviting.
The woman didn’t take the hint, shifting closer as she spoke again. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but if you ever have time, I’d love to pick your brain about basketball. Maybe over some dinner sometime?”
Azzi’s jaw tightened, and Paige caught the subtle shift in her posture. Without missing a beat, Paige reached for her drink, her free hand brushing against Azzi’s under the table.
“Sorry, but I’m not really looking for anything these days,” Paige replied smoothly, her eyes flicking briefly to Azzi before settling back on the woman. “But I appreciate the support.”
The woman hesitated, clearly not expecting the polite rejection, before finally backing off with a forced smile. Once she was out of earshot, Paige let out a soft sigh and turned to Azzi.
“Alright, I think that’s our cue to call it a night,” Paige said, standing carefully and grabbing her crutches.
Azzi stood as well, her expression still unreadable, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “Yeah, before I have to fend off another one.”
Paige laughed, leaning on her crutches as they made their way out of Ted’s. The cool night air greeted them as they stepped outside, and Azzi stayed close, her hand lightly brushing Paige’s arm every so often as they walked to the car.
When they got back to Paige’s apartment, the teasing smile was back on her lips as she closed the door behind them. She turned to Azzi, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“You know,” Paige began, her voice low and playful, “I think it’s cute how jealous you always get.”
Azzi rolled her eyes, but the slight blush creeping up her neck betrayed her. “I wasn’t jealous,” she said, her tone defensive but unconvincing.
Paige grinned, stepping closer until they were nearly chest to chest. “Really? Because it definitely felt like it when you tensed up anytime somebody looked at me.”
Azzi crossed her arms, though her resolve was clearly slipping. “I was just protecting my teammates space,” she said, though the way her eyes softened as she looked at Paige said otherwise.
Paige leaned in, her lips brushing Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “I can show you why you don’t need to worry about nobody else.”
Azzi’s breath hitched, her arms falling to her sides as she looked at Paige, her expression caught between exasperation and anticipation.
“Fine,” she muttered, her voice barely audible. “But you better make it convincing.”
Paige smirked, her eyes darkening as she pulled Azzi closer. “Oh, I will.”
…
The next morning Paige stood in Azzi's room, leaning on the edge of the dresser as she pulled on her shirt. The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of fabric. She glanced at Azzi, who was seated on the bed scrolling through her phone, and decided to fill the silence with something she had been thinking about.
“I was thinking we could check out this spot downtown,” Paige began casually. “It’s got these cozy booths, good food—kinda intimate but not over the top. I think you’d like it.”
Azzi’s head looked up, her brow furrowing. “That sounds like a date, Paige.”
Paige shrugged as if the words didn’t sting. “Nah it doesn’t have to be a big deal. We can just grab some food.”
Azzi set her phone down, her voice a little firm. “Just because we don’t call it a date doesn’t mean it won’t feel like one.”
Paige’s jaw tightened, the easygoing front she tried to maintain cracking. “Is it the worst thing in the world for us to go on a date, Azzi?”
“Yes,” Azzi said immediately, her tone leaving no room for doubt. “Considering we aren’t dating.”
Paige let out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Here we go with this again. So what is this then?” she asked, gesturing between them.
“It’s...complicated,” Azzi said, sighing as she ran a hand through her hair. “I really don’t want to argue about this today Paige.”
“No,” Paige said sharply, her voice rising. “It’s not complicated. We make it complicated. You make it complicated. God, Azzi, we spend every night together. You let me whisper all kinds of shit in your ear, you let me touch you—hell, you beg me to touch you—but you won’t let me take you to dinner? What the hell is that about?”
Azzi frowned, her frustration building. “You never get it, Paige. This isn’t just about us. I’ve told you that.”
“Then explain it to me,” Paige demanded, stepping away from the dresser, her crutches clacking against the hardwood floor.
Azzi sighed heavily, clearly reluctant to have this conversation. “You’ve already made a name for yourself. You could never play another game, and you’d still be drafted. Me? I’m still proving myself. I can’t afford distractions like that.”
Paige’s eyes narrowed, her voice tinged with anger. “Oh, so I’m a distraction now? Is that all I am to you?”
“That’s not what I said and you know it,” Azzi snapped.
“Then what are you saying, Azzi? Because honestly I’m getting a little sick of this half-in, half-out bullshit!” Paige’s voice was rising now, her emotions spilling over.
Azzi stood, pacing the room as she tried to collect her thoughts. “I’m saying this...this thing between us could complicate everything. The team, our careers—”
“So what, we'll just keep sneaking around forever in your mind?” Paige cuts her off, her tone incredulous as she says things she knows aren't true. “I’m good enough to sleep with but not good enough for you to actually be with. Is that what it is?”
“That’s not fair,” Azzi said, her voice tight.
“No, what’s not fair is what we’ve been doing!” Paige shot back. “You’ll scream my name all fucking night, let me do whatever I want to you, but God forbid I want hold your hand in public or call this what it is. Do you even hear yourself?”
Azzi stopped pacing, her face hardening. “You know it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like, Azzi?” Paige pressed, her voice cracking. “Because from where I’ve been standing, it looks like I don’t mean that much to you.”
Azzi’s expression softened for a moment, guilt flickering across her face. “You mean the world to me, Paige. You know that.”
Paige let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Do I? Because it sure doesn’t feel like it when you won’t even agree to a simple date with me.”
Azzi threw her hands up in frustration. “I’m not dating my fucking teammate, Paige! I’ve told you that so many times. It’s too messy, and it’s not worth the risk.”
“Not worth the risk?” Paige repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. She grabbed her crutches, her movements sharp. “You’re unbelievable.”
Azzi stepped toward her, her voice softening. “Paige, don’t—”
“No,” Paige interrupted, her voice rising again. “You don’t want me to leave? Then stop treating me like I’m just some convenience for you. Because I’m not doing this anymore, Azzi. I’m not just some fuck toy for you to play with when it’s convenient. Find somebody else to fuck you if that’s all you want from me.”
“You know that’s not all I want!” Azzi protested, her voice desperate now.
“Then what the hell do you want, Azzi?” Paige asked, her voice a little raw.
“I don’t know!” Azzi yelled, the words hanging in the air.
Paige hesitated, her chest rising and falling as she fought against the lump in her throat. Finally, she looked Azzi in the eye, her voice quiet but trembling. “I love you, Azzi.”
The words hung in the air, heavy. Azzi froze, her expression unreadable as she stared at Paige not expecting her to say that in this moment. For a few agonizing seconds, she said nothing, and then softly, “Paige...I–”
The silence was all it took. Paige’s face hardened, her jaw tightening as she turned away. “Forget it,” she muttered, grabbing her crutches and heading for the door.
Azzi reached out, panic flashing across her face. “Paige, wait—it’s wet outside. Your crutches…You shouldn’t—”
“I really don’t want to look at you right now,” Paige cut her off, her voice icy. “I’ll be fine.”
With that, she walked out, the sound of the door slamming behind her echoing in the room. Azzi stood there, staring at the empty doorway, her chest tight as the weight of their argument settled over her. Azzi realized just how much she just fucked up and she didn’t know if she could fix it this time.
…
Azzi tried to give Paige some time to calm down so she left her alone for the rest of the day. But the next day after their fight, Azzi couldn’t stop thinking about her. She stared at her phone, her fingers flying across the screen as she sent text after text.
💗: Paige I’m sorry about yesterday, Can we please talk?
💗: I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you P.
💗: You mean everything to me, P.
💗: Please just let me fix this
💗: Paige, please…Just answer me
💗: Are you okay?
💗: How was physical therapy? Who took you?
💗: I thought about going but I figured you didn’t want me to.
💗: I hate how we left things
💗: I miss you P
💗: I know I messed up, please don’t shut me out.
By midday she had sent at least twenty messages and about a dozen phone calls to Paige, each one unanswered. She was about to give up for the day when her phone buzzed.
P 💗: ok.
That was it. Just two letters, but it was enough to send Azzi flying out the door.
Now Azzi was sitting in Paige’s room, the tension between them so suffocating it felt like the walls were closing in. They’d been talking for some time, exchanging quiet apologies for some of the harsh words they had thrown at each other the night before. But the heart of the issue still lingered, unspoken.
Azzi broke the silence, her voice soft but insistent. “I do love you, Paige.”
Paige’s breath caught for a moment before she exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “No, Az. You don’t.”
Azzi frowned, her expression a mix of confusion and hurt. “How can you say that? You don’t know how I feel.”
Paige met her gaze, her voice steady but tinged with sadness. “Because if you loved me—really loved me—we wouldn’t be in this situation. You’d want to be with me, Az. Not just here, not just like this, but completely.”
Azzi’s eyes softened, her hands clasping together tightly in her lap. “Paige, it’s not that simple.”
“It is to me,” Paige said quietly, her voice breaking just slightly. “I love you Azzi. I love you so much I’d give up anything for you. Do you understand that? I’d leave this team, this school, all of our friends, my dream of winning a championship here... I’d walk away from all of it, because none of it matters to me as much as you do.”
Azzi’s eyes began to glisten, but she stayed silent, the weight of Paige’s words settling over her.
“I’m not saying you have to do that to prove you love me,” Paige continued, her tone soft but firm. “But I know you don’t love me the way I love you. Not yet. Not even if you won’t let us try to be together.”
Azzi blinked, a tear slipping down her cheek. “That’s not fair, Paige. Just because I’m scared doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
Paige’s lips pressed into a thin line, her jaw tightening as she held back her own tears. “You might love the idea of me. Of us. Of what we have when no one else is looking. But love—real love—it’s more than that, Az and you know it. It’s being willing to take the risk, even when it’s scary. Even when it’s complicated.”
Azzi’s voice was a whisper. “It’s not just fear Paige I’ve told you that. You’ve already made a name for yourself. You could never play again and still be drafted. But me? I’m not there yet. I can’t afford to let anything get in the way of what I’ve been trying to build since I was a kid.”
Paige nodded slowly, her heart breaking even as she forced herself to stay composed. “I get it Az. I do. And I promise I’m not mad at you for it. I’ll keep supporting you But I can’t keep doing what we’re doing, Az. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with having only part of you when I want so much more.”
Azzi’s breath hitched, her tears now falling freely. “So that’s it? We’re just... done?”
Paige hesitated, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Yeah I think we have to be.”
Azzi reached out, her hand holding Paige’s as their fingers intertwined. “I love you so much, Paige. Maybe not the way you want me to yet, but I promise I do.”
Paige closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek as she shook her head. “I can’t do ‘maybe,’ Az. Not with you. Not right now”
The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging between them. After a moment, Azzi stood, her movements slow and reluctant.
At the door, she paused, glancing back at Paige. Her voice was barely audible. “You’re still my best friend, right?”
Paige gave her a small, sad smile. “Always, Azzi.”
Azzi nodded, her expression filled with sorrow as she whispered, “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want yet P.”
Before she stepped out, Azzi turned back one last time, her heart heavy with everything she felt like she couldn’t explain to the girl she loved more than anything. She moved toward Paige and, without a word, pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, her lips touching one of Paige’s tears, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. Her lips whispered against her skin as she pulled away, her voice barely a breath.
“I promise this isn’t the end of our story P. I just need time.”
Paige’s breath caught in her throat, but Azzi was already turning to leave. The door clicked shut behind her with a finality that echoed in Paige’s heart. Alone now, she let out a shaky breath, her hands covering her face as she laid back and the tears finally came.
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a different kind of exercise | ljn



personal trainer!jeno × fem!reader (18+ mdni)
summary: he just wanted to give you a private lesson.
a/n: sorry, that didn't go well as i wanted, but i didn't have anything planned for his bday and this ended up coming out 😭 i didn't like that one, but happy bday to jeno!
cw: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, petnames (baby/pretty)
jeno was not planning on this. yet he was glad it happened.
when he accepted to be your personal trainer, he didn't think much about it. you seemed like a genuine newbie in the gym, seeking legitimate help. unlike other people, you hadn't chosen him just because of his good looks, he could see that you actually wanted to learn.
he wasn't expecting much to come from your time together aside from some casual conversation during workouts and the occasional advice about exercising, but he found himself growing more interested in you than his purpose of teaching.
he didn't know why exactly, but he felt an attraction to you that he couldn't explain. sometimes he would even find himself acting like a pervert. and he knew that was wrong, but it was all somehow your fault.
he would often blame you for wearing those tight leggings that gripped onto your body like a second skin. he knew it wasn't fair to blame you for their existence, but he also couldn't help but be distracted by their form-fittedness.
but he was glad you wore them. he loved it when you folded forward, giving him a great view of your ass. he would make up some excuse about you doing it wrong just to get closer and hold your waist. he would press you against him and lean over you, telling you "how it should be done," while enjoying the feel of your body pressed against his. he enjoyed taking his time to "help you do it right" so that he could spend more time up close with your ass rubbing against his cock.
or when he is "helping you out" by adjusting your position and form while doing an exercise. he knew that wasn't necessary, but he used the excuse of "straightening you up" to sneak his hands around you. he would grab a handful of your breasts, pretending to position you properly to do the exercise but actually taking the chance to feel you up.
jeno would often find excuses to get close to you, brushing up against you or putting his hands on your body more often than necessary, always trying to touch you in subtle ways that he hoped you wouldn't notice.
and that was the best—or worst—part of it all. you were completely clueless about his actions, genuinely thinking it was just his way of teaching. honestly, it wasn't bothering you at all. in fact, you even secretly enjoyed it when he was "just teaching you" and getting a bit too close for comfort by holding you up and touching your body.
but still, for jeno, this was pure agony too. all he craved was to fuck you senseless until you were practically limping, but he couldn't just spit it out. ever since your sessions began, he caught himself fucking his fist at night thinking about you, he'd daydream about pounding into you, making you yell his name 'til you were hoarse.
gosh, he needed you so bad.
and so he made it.
it was easier than he thought. all he had to do was come with an excuse to get you to his house. saying he needed to "go over some information" about your exercises and "get more in-depth" with your routine, he asked you to come over to his place to "work through the details" of your activities.
he can't really remember how things escalated from telling you to make yourself comfortable to him pressing you up against the bed mattress with your legs around his waist while you cry out his name because of how good it feels to have his cock stretching your tight pussy.
“you feel so—god, so f-fucking good,” jeno’s hands grip your hips tightly as he thrusts deeper into you, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing second. your hands were gripping the sheet so tightly that your knuckles were white, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“y-you're so tight, baby,” he looked down to see where your bodies connected, watching as his length disappeared into your welcoming pussy.
"fuck, y/n... you take me so well,” he breathes heavily, trying to maintain control as you clench around him. "i could stay here forever,” his cock slamming into you with such force that you could feel it in your bones.
the sensation of him filling you up completely is almost too much to bear, but you wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world right now.
jeno feels your body tensing up and your warm walls squeezing him again, making him groan. “are you close, pretty?” the only answer for his question were your loud moan and it was enough for him.
you gasp when he suddenly changes your position, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder and driving himself even deeper inside of you. the new angle hits all the right spots, and you feel yourself being stretched to the limit, even more sensitive as his hand slip down to rub your clit.
you starts to feel an orgasm building inside of you, which made you let a whine escape your lips. you didn't want this moment to end, but you know it's going to be explosive when it finally does. you focus on the sensation of him filling you up, on the sound of your bodies slapping together, and on the scent of sex in the air. it's a heady combination that sends you over the edge, you body shuddering and convulsing beneath his as you milk his cock.
jeno himself couldn’t hold back his own climax any longer, the way your face contorts in pure bliss as you come undone beneath him sends him over the edge. feeling his orgasm getting closer and closer, his thrusts became a little more messy, but still at the same pace. it felt so good he almost forgot to pull out, withdrawing just in time to cum on your thigh, his hot load sticking to your skin.
he falls onto the bed next to you, the only sound now is your heavy breathing as you both try to compose yourself. you continue to silently stare at the ceiling for a few more minutes before turning your head to look at him, just to find him already looking at you.
“so…” you begin. “same time next week?”
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