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wiinterz · 2 days ago

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: •̩̩͙ ໋ TAKE A DIP IN MY LAKE ˖ Sevika.

firefighter!sevika x goth fem!reader

genre(s) - one-shot, lesbian erotica, moms!best friend, older x younger

description - you’ve known sevika since forever, of course having feelings for her but you swear it’s gone. that is until you come back from college for the summer and realize this woman has gotten hotter and your feelings are just as worse than last time.

warnings - making out, profanity, groping, nipple/breast play, spitting, dom!sevika, face sitting, pussy eating, praise kink, sevika is forty-one while reader is twenty-one, sevika wearing a dog tag, smoking weed, fingering, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, baby), overstimulation, dacryphilia, dirty talk(?). 18+ only, minors & men dni.

word count - 5.1k

tay's letter 💌 - i realize i could’ve made this into a drabble. i was also planning on dropping a subby!sevika smut i had in the drafts for the longest but…um well that shit ain’t done. p.s. i might make this into a series, lemme know.

rules | arcane masterlist.

Stockings stick to your legs, your body heat grows hotter the longer you sit outside. Even your panasonic headphones started to create sweat around your ears, causing you to wipe it off at times. The sun blazed onto the concrete, drying the rain that once was there from last night, it seemed as if you were stuck in the hottest desert as punishment when in actuality, the real punishment was watching your friend’s younger brother play in the parking lot and making sure he doesn’t run into incoming cars.

Matthew and his three other friends had busied themselves with writing on the concrete, the chalk now in a bucket, hands dusty and mixed with sweat as they ran around on your mother’s lawn playing basketball. Shouting at each other to pass the ball, as some other kids in the neighborhood rode on bicycles.

You, keeping yourself grounded by listening to music on your old ipod you found the other day while cleaning your room. Shocked that it even still works, you figured it would’ve stopped by how many years it’s been.

Yet, the old thing is still kicking, unlike your easy bake oven you also found deep in your closet. Leaning your hands backward, your right leg crossed over your left as your head tilts back, enjoying what was peaceful. You needed this, especially now that you busied yourself with taking care of your friend’s brother while she worked. Your eyes closed, thoughts allowing the music to take you on a journey.

In your mind, you thought back to her and last night’s dinner. The way the metal ring on her right middle finger fiddled as she spoke to your mom about work. Lips glossed with grease from the baked chicken, tongue licking it off with a beat as she continued to speak. Fuck, you needed her.

And you hated that, hated how even though you promised yourself what you’re feeling is months of not being touched by someone when in reality you knew it’s because you’re desperately needy for her. You thought back to her voice, humming to yourself as you heard it.

Blinking a few times, your brows furrow as you look back to Matthew who is now standing in front of you. You pull your right earphone off, “what?” Confused etched on your face, “My sister’s here.” He mutters, and you look toward a black car, windows down, seeing your friend. You sigh and stand, following him to the car and helping him get in the passenger seat. “Look at you, hot stuff, how was this one?” She asks, her eyes locked on yours and you shrug. “He and his friends were good like always,” which places a smile on her face.

“They better been,” she stretches her arms, “anyway, I’ll catch up with you later, love you.” She finishes and you nod, waving at all four of them once she drives off. You sigh, turning around and walking back into the house, turning the ac on, you sit in the recliner chair, turning the volume up to your ipod and thinking back to Sevika.

It was dumb how much you missed a woman you saw not even twenty-four hours ago. It was dumb how you missed discreetly staring at her and hoping she would catch you, maybe she did but you weren’t one to be delusional.

But then again, delusion is what keeps the heart happy.

You continue to think back to Sevika’s voice, almost treating it like an audio, almost. You were tempted to say fuck it and pull your skirt and stockings down, touching your wet cunt. Biting on your bottom lip and sighing heavily, you shake your head. You weren’t in your own place, anyone could walk in the house, and this was during the time your mom would be getting home from work anyway.

You grip the chair’s handle, breathing through your nose as your mind starts to think about Sevika's sweet tongue rolling around your c-

Again, interrupted by something, your eyes widen and you groan dramatically. Pulling your earphones off and standing, tossing it on the chair, you walk up to the door.

Opening it, the words that were about to leave your lips cut off as you stare at your dream. Hair stuck on her forehead, her lips formed in a smirk and her black t-shirt had been a bit messy with oil. Her left short sleeve pushed up showing more of her muscles while her dog tag had been showing. She had on grey sweatpants, clearly coming off shift and tired.

“You’re gonna let me in or stare, pretty girl?” Her voice rasp yet smooth like butter, even though you knew it was a rhetorical question, it still felt as though it was just a statement.

And you obliged, opening the door for her and letting her pass through. “Mom’s not here yet.” You exhale, getting a whiff of her, patches of smoky sandalwood and chocolate pomegranate, her scent.

Looking around the house, Sevika’s eyes land on your figure. “Not every time I visit, I’m searching for her.” The steps she takes to you are slow but intentional. “Maybe, what I’m looking for is right in front of me.” Sevika purposefully whispers now that she stands in front of you.

Her body was so close you could almost feel it, and you wanted to. You blink a couple of times, your chest rising faster. “Talk to me, wanna know how your week has been.” She crosses her arms, flexing her biceps and you look. You could moan right there for her, you would do whatever she wanted you to do.

You gulp and look back at her eyes, those sweet grey with specs of blue in them. She tilts her head to the right, waiting.

You clear your throat and rest your hands in front of you. “Well, my week hasn’t been so extravagant. I’m just taking care of my friend's brother, that’s really about it.” You shrug and Sevika nods, humming, “Sounds hectic,” she grumbles and you shake your head. “Actually it’s pretty peaceful, he’s very relaxed and respectful plus I see him as my own little brother so it’s easy.” Sevika nods again, keeping her arms crossed.

Your eyes look down at it again, wishing she could tighten the grip just a bit. “So, what are you doing here?” You ask her, a sigh escaping her lips as you clasp your hands together.

“Work was a bit exhausting today, needed to see if I could get my mind off it.” She replies, turning around and you can see her back muscles even through her shirt. Walking to the living room, you follow behind. “Well-” Cutting you off, Sevika turns to you, a raised brow and her hands resting on her hips.

“This might come off a bit bold, but do you still smoke?” She questions, biting her bottom lip while she thinks. You nod, a bit shocked that she’s asking.

“I think all I have at the moment is a gram, if not it’s just roaches.” You explain to her and she nods, “That’s fine, I don’t care, just need something in my system.” You nod, watching her sit down on the couch. Figuring that’s your cue, you run upstairs into your room, going through your draw and finding your weed. Picking up your rollers lighter and bowl, you breathe out heavily as you reach your door.

“I’m really smoking with this woman, what the fuck is my life.” You whisper yell to yourself before heading back downstairs.

Reaching the first step, there you could see Sevika’s head resting back, eyes closed. Bracing yourself, you walk over, seeing her legs stretched out while her hands rest on them. You take the small bowl and place it down on the counter. Sevika leans back up, stretching her right hand out on the couch as she watches attentively.

Your ass is in her view, her eyes look up and down at you, taking in your beauty. Biting down her lip, you turn, blinking a couple of times and clearing your throat. “I’m done rolling yours.” You inform and she looks back at you, her smirk widening. “Thank you, pretty girl, such a good worker for me.” She rasps, making you shiver at her tone.

You nod, “just doing as much as I can.” You reply, mentally cringing at yourself and you look back at what you’re doing, rolling your blunt. “You’ve smoked blunts before?” You ask for clarification and she hums, “used to smoke these like crazy back in college, but that was way before I had gotten a serious job and had to look serious for the part.” She lets out, a groan escaping her lips, turning you all mush. You finish rolling yours, picking up your lighter, and sitting beside her, keeping space between you two. Flickering the lighter on, you place it against your blunt and then press it against Sevika’s.

It’s quiet in the house for the moment, you two taking your initial inhale, and enjoying it. Sevika coughs a little and you smile a little, a giggle escaping your lips which makes her smile at you. “What’s so funny?” She questions, eyeing you and you shrug. “Clearly it’s been a min since you picked up one.” You nod at the blunt and she looks down at it in her fingers.

“Yeah,” she then looks at you. “But I’m still a pro.” She whispers.

The tingles you felt from last night come right back, her eyes glinted something you couldn’t pick up. She pulls the blunt back to her lips, and you watch, doing just the same.

It’s quiet between you two, busy favoring the blunt. You and Sevika needed this, she needed it to cut the edge from work and you needed it to cut the edge of your mind. As minutes passed and the clock ticked from the grandfather clock, you turned to look at her.

Sevika watched you as you took another drag, the smoke curling through the air like a wispy serpent in the night.

Her gaze fixed on your lips, attaching itself to the blunt, how you round your lips into an ‘o’. She wondered how that look around her strap, how your eyes would look when she thrusts it down your throat. Would your eyes swell up or would you surprise her and take it like a pro?

Then, her eyes flicker to your thighs, her fingers tighten into a fists, the sight of your ripped stockings covering something so delicious. She bet your pretty lips were pressed up with your underwear and stockings. Then she thought about what type of underwear you had on. If it were a thong or not, either way, she wanted to pull them down by her teeth and watch your clit grow from teasing it for too long.

She fidgeted with her fingers, unable to tear her eyes away from you. There was a tension in the air now, a palpable energy that crackled between you like an electrical current.

Sevika’s heart was racing out of her chest now, the sound almost drowning out the tick noises of the clock. She exhales, catching your attention. Shaking her head, your brows furrow.

“What’s wrong?” You ask softly, your eyes looking up and down at her, her sweatpants pulled down a little showing her boxers. “Nothing, pretty girl, just keep easing your mind.” She lets out, and you gulp. “You know I got a name, right?” You question, not like you wanted her to stop calling you pretty girl anyway.

Your sentence earns a smirk from her and she nods. “That right, pretty girl?” She pushes herself up a little to get closer to you and her scent mixed with the weed makes you feel delirious.

You nod, “Y-yeah.” You clear your throat and nod again and Sevika hums. “I know you gotta name, baby, and it’s one of the most prettiest things I’ve ever heard. But, I just can’t help myself.” She whispers, and your eyes dart down to her shirt. Her nipples get hard through it, which makes your breathing become a struggle.

And she knew.

“What’s wrong, baby?” She gets closer, whispering those words in your ears and placing her hand on your forehead, making you heat up.

“Nothing,” you stutter out and she chuckles, “nothing?” She hums, “Can’t be nothing when you’re becoming my little stuttering mess.” And that turns you on even more, you swear she’s doing this to test you.

You clear your throat and look at her, your sweet doe eyes looking right at the older woman. “Guess it’s not me that needs attention.” She whispers, her voice rasping but still so smooth. “Yeah, you need my attention?” She questions and you nod hesitantly.

Sevika smirks, “How can I help you, baby, what do you need me to focus on?” She mutters and you hold back a whimper.

The palm of her hand goes down to your neck, “right here?” Then brushes against your breasts, to your stomach, and starts to rub you. “Or right here? Which one, baby.” Sevika mumbles, her eyes staring directly at you.

Blinking, you doing a quick breathing exercise and take the bait. “Right here.” You whisper, pulling her hand back up to your breast, and you catch that glint in her eyes again. She nods and hums, smoking the rest of the blunt. “Fuck.” She whispers, and starts to hum, “Right there?” And you nod. “Hum, seems like something is covering it, baby.” She reminds you of your bra and you pout, “Yeah.” You stutter.

“Mind if I take it off you?” She asks innocently, yet you knew it was far from that. And you nod, Sevika smiles, taking the time to hitch your shirt up. Slowly, revealing your body, she clicks her tongue. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered to herself and you can’t help but feel weak in the knees all over again.

You knew this was wrong, hell she knew it too but who to say she had any shame?

She looks back at you and nods, and you nod back. Taking deep breaths as you feel her metallic fingers brush up against your stomach, making you flinch. She watches with widened eyes, admiring your every movement. Her fingers then find your bra strap, hooking it and pulling it down to let it fall. She looks at you once again, and you let out a sigh.

“Can you kiss me?” You ask desperately and she laughs, “Thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.” Sevika gets to move closer to you, her fleshed thumb rubbing your bottom lip and smudging your lipstick even more.

The air felt thick and heavy with tension. Sevika’s thumb lingered on your skin for a moment longer than necessary, as if she couldn't bear to remove her touch just yet. Her fingers traced the line of your jaw, the softest of touches, but laden with meaning.

Your heads move slowly, inching closer to one another. Her eyes never left yours, your breathing was ragged, and small gasps erupting. She was so close now, closer than you ever imagined.

Sevika’s eyes darted to your lips, watching as they parted slightly to release a bit of smoke. She ached to kiss you, to feel the softness of your skin against hers, to taste that damn lipstick. But she held back, her restraint hanging on by a thread.

With a shuddering exhale, she closed the distance between you, her lips finally touching yours in a kiss that was both fierce and tender.

Sevika’s hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss. Tasting like smoke, an intoxicating flavor that made your head spin. Her body pressed against yours, solid and warm, as she angled her face to kiss you harder, her tongue darting out to taste the sweetness of your mouth, tasting the cigarette and your lipstick.

Your right hand moved to Sevika’s head, making her groan softly in the kiss and pushing her body forward against yours. Her hand slid down to your waist, fingers gripping into your skin as she pulled you even closer. The kiss was hungry, she was hungry, frenzied, like a woman who’d been left astray from food for over a year.

Her body was pressed flush against yours now, the heat between you almost unbearable. She knew she should stop, knew that this could lead to nothing but trouble, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Her hand moved across your body, her touch exploring every curve and contour as if she were sculpting a goddess.

Sevika’s teeth nipped at your lower lip, her lips then moving to your neck, trailing kisses along the sensitive skin. She wanted to mark you, to claim you, to make sure you couldn't forget this moment, forget her. Her body was pressed even closer to yours now, the hard ridge of her arousal unmistakable against your hip. Sevika’s hand snaked down your body, pulling you on her lap, her lips still against your neck, breath ragged and uneven.

She was lost in a sea of desire, her mind consumed with thoughts of you, of what she wanted to do, what she needed to do to satisfy the hunger that gnawed at her.

You felt breathless in the kiss, almost unable to keep up but you do, you whimper as she pulls your closer, smacking your ass. You feel the smirk against your lips, you could tell she wanted to laugh, not at you but because it itched a bit of her thoughts.

You pull away, lips now swollen and messed up lipstick. Sevika looks at you, her gaze dark and intense, her lips also swollen and stained with the remnant of your lipstick. Her chest is heaving, breaths coming in ragged gasps. She looks wrecked, debauched, and utterly captivating.

Her hand reaches up, thumb wiping away the smeared lipstick from your chin, the action gentle but undeniably possessive.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” She whispers and you stare at her, you didn’t want her to stop, no, you needed her to continue. She placed these thoughts in your head and she would be the one to bring them to life.

She took your silence as an answer and pulled your bra down, immediately attaching her lips around your left nipple, attacking your breast. All you could do is moan loudly for her, her tongue swirling around your nipple, feeling it become hard in her mouth while she sucks. This is what she dreams of, to feel and taste you, to put you in a place of no return.

Your pussy pulsated with your panties so close to being pushed into it. You wanted to feel something, your nipples were extremely sensitive naturally and her sucking didn’t make it any better. You continued to moan, playing in her hair as she continued to stare up at you. Sevika pulls her mouth away, spitting against it and watching it drip down to your stomach.

Coming to the next one, she does the same steps, sucking until you’re a moaning mess, grinding against her lap for friction. “ ‘Vika…” you whine and she giggles, spitting once again on your nipple, her thumb rubbing and twisting it gently. “Fuck, that’s my good girl.” She whispers, earning a breathy moan from you.

Sevika pulls your chin down, forcing you to look at her, for one moment she continues to stare, clicking her tongue before kissing you again. Picking up your shirt from the couch, she places one firm grip around your waist and stands, letting you wrap your legs around her tight for support. With one hand, and lips still kissing yours, she walks you upstairs to your room.

Slamming the door close with her foot, you pause and lock the door. You giggle as she kisses your neck, letting out whimpers. “Fuck, Sevika.” You whimper and she hums, tossing the shirt down on your carpet. Sevika puts you down gently on the edge of the bed, letting you watch her.

She steps back for a moment, her eyes taking in the sight of you, lying on the bed. She pulls her shirt off, her movements slow and deliberate as if she's putting on a show just for you. "You're so damn gorgeous," she lets out, her gaze never leaving your face.

You shiver and look away, looking up at your bed frame, feeling like you couldn’t handle her.

Sevika notices your reaction and a smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Don't look away," she mutters, her voice is soft yet commanding. "Look at me." She squats down untying her shoelaces, and kicking them off she stands straightly, continuing to look at you. Her fingers move to her sweatpants, pulling them down and exposing more and more of her toned physique, the scars from work on her chest and arms adding a more rugged appearance.

She gets closer and rests her hands on the side of your skirt, “May I?” She questions and you nod, “Yes.” You let out and she smirks, pulling your skirt and stockings down. She hums and licks her lips, seeing you in your pretty black undies.

Your legs bang repeatedly against the bed and she looks down, seeing your shoes still on. Being a sweetheart, Sevika takes your shoes on, keeping the socks on, figuring that’s what you’d like or feel comfortable with.

Her eyes bore into yours, searching for any hint of hesitation, but all she saw in your gaze was the same need that she felt growing inside her. "Say the word, and I'll stop," she says, her voice gruff but sincere. "But until then, I'm gonna show you exactly how much I want you." She gets closer leaning on top of you, and her hand slides down your side, tracing along the curves of your body. Sevika’s touch is both tender and possessive, her fingers grazing over your skin as if she’s learning every inch of you. "You're so goddamn addictive," she whispers, her voice raspy with desire. "I can't seem to get enough of you."

You feel breathless once again, and again once her lips attach to yours. She was between your legs, not putting all her weight on you as you both kissed, your right leg pushed up on the bed while your left foot stayed on the ground. Her lips continue to lock with yours, soft smacking filling the room.

Her lips move down to your neck, sucking on it as she earns moans from you, slowly her lips move to your stomach taking the chance to chaste kiss you. You whimper and whine, keeping your fingers in her hair. “More please.” You beg for her and she smirks, “I know baby, I know.” Sevika mutters and kisses your pelvis, looking up at you, a brow raises, “You want more, pretty girl?” She whispers and you nod. “How much more, baby, hm?” She talks sensually, her voice like caramel and it makes you weep.

I breathe, “W-wanna feel your lips on mine.” You let out, feeling a bit embarrassed and she smirks, “Gotta be more detailed baby, cause when you say lips I’m thinking of the ones I just kissed and the ones I haven’t gotten the chance to.” She sighs, leaning her chin on her palm and you sigh heavily.

“Ones you haven’t kissed,” Sevika’s smirk turns into a smile and she hums, “Good girl.”

Taking the hem of your underwear by her teeth, she pulls them down to your ankles, yanking them off and tossing them somewhere in your room. “Pussy so wet and I haven’t had my taken.” She lets out, really to herself and your eyes widen.

Sevika blows on your pussy first, wanting to tease and watch you break slowly. Then, her index finger runs against your slit, up and down, not pushing in yet. You breathe shakily, feeling your legs also shake with you a little.

“Such a pretty pussy, fuck I should’ve done this sooner.” She lets out, her eyes still stuck on your pussy, Sevika looks at you for one more chance to see if you would want to back out of this now, and still nothing. Her head dips down, tongue flattening, and starts to lick up slowly. You feel her breathing against your pussy, making you shake a little and shiver, moans escape from your lips, unable to control yourself.

You tilt your head back, back arching a little as she continues to suck. She’s doing this for your comfort first because she knew once you were, she would do this for her.

Sevika drags her nose down your slit, letting it slowly get wet by your throbbing clit. Pushing her head back up a little, her tongue drags making you twist and moan. “S’okay baby, I got you.” She whispers against your wet cunt, and she smirks, admiring how beautiful your pussy is.

“Prettiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.” She sighs, her thumb starts to brush over your clit gently, watching you jolt. “Please, Sevika.” You whine and she hums, “Shushhh pretty girl, I got you.” She reminds and all you can do is nod.

She was so gentle with you, it almost made you cry.

And you can only gasp when she pushes her middle finger in your glaring cunt, not giving you a chance to catch yourself when she inserts her index. Sliding in and out of your cunt, she curls it just enough to make you moan loudly. Your jolt forward for a second, toes curling.

“Ah~” you gasp, becoming a babbling mess right before her, and that gets you a smirk from her.

“Your pussy is so tight, baby, gotta prep her first, mmh?” She cooes, spitting against your clit which takes you to the edge. Your eyes roll back as you feel her start to lick your clit, her fingers sliding in and out of you. “Breathe.” She reminds you, her breath airy against your cunt, making it tighten around her fingers.

“Fuck, fuuuck,” you whine, your toes still curling up, Sevika was nose deep and the tip of her nose pushed up against your clit repeatedly, making you feel even more sensitive. “Shit, please Sevika, I’m so sensitive!” You let out but she ignores you. You try and close your legs around her face, only to get a spit against your clit, rubbing down your folds, Sevika’s metallic hand pushes your left thigh open, sucking your folds and pushing her tongue in and out of you.

“Taste so fucking good, baby.” She grumbles, despite making you a babbling mess for her, you nod, forcing your eyes to stay open.

You moan louder, feeling her tongue move up and down against your clit while her fingers continued to push in and out, becoming soaked fast. You continued to gasp, squirming for her but tried your best to be a good girl and keep your legs open, and she knew you were struggling.

Sevika pulls away, staring at you, “You okay with another idea?” and you nod quickly, she chuckles and exhales. Sevika stands, moving on the bed now, moving to your pillow, she lays her head down on it, looking at you. “Come ‘ere.” She rasps out and you listen without question, you crawl to her, now in between her legs. You look down at her, her fingers rubbing your cheek.

“If you’re up for it, I want you to sit on my face.” She explains, your eyes widen, blinking a couple of times and she waits for your answer. “Y-you want me to?” You ask gently and she nods, “I do.” Sevika says seriously, she wasn’t smirking anymore, not even a small smile. She wanted this, as long as you did too.

You breathe in and out, nodding, Sevika lets out a sigh of relief and gets herself situated for you. You turn your body around, your back facing her as you hover over her stomach. “I’ve never, sat on anyone’s face before,” Sevika smirks at the confession and hums, her hands moving to your waist and helping you up to her mouth. “Glad to be the first.” She whispers you lean forward a bit, keeping your hands on the bed to keep you steady.

“I can go slow,” she mutters and you nod, “please.” You whine.

Her thumb runs down your cunt her breath lightly brushing against your folds that were dying to be kissed, hovering against it, your cunt twitches in need. Sevika licks your pussy lightly, allowing you to get used to it first. Once you do, you lean more into her mouth, finally feeling the warmth of her tongue instantly licking between your folds. “Oh, fuck,” you moan out loudly.

Pushing her tongue flat, your sensitive folds, you tasted so delicious and it only left her craving for more, needing more. Grey eyes stare up at you, watching you bounce lightly on her mouth, as moans escape.

“Be a good girl and fuck my face, baby.” She groans, her hands holding your waist as you continue to bounce against her mouth, moaning each time you feel her tongue. You stop bouncing for a moment, enjoying the feeling of her tongue licking up and down and pushing through your folds.

You start to rock yourself against her mouth, using her as a toy for your own sake. Her tongue continues to suck your slit, seeing how swollen it’s gotten, Sevika spits against it, twirling the tip of her tongue against it, making you moan and hold grip the bedsheets.

“Engh~ f-fuck, ‘Vika,” you whine, feeling yourself going weak by the second. Your pussy pulsating repeatedly as she continues to suck the air out of you. Suddenly feeling thick fingers, you moan as Sevika starts to rub your clit while sucking your pussy. You start to feel a heavy yet fulfilling sensation in the pit of your stomach, your lips turning into a pout, and you become whiny in seconds. Tears in your eyes as you continue to let her fuck your cunt, you tug on the bedsheets tighter, moaning even louder when you feel her nose brush up against your cheeks. Her tongue is lapping against your flaps and fingers at your entrance. You’re now stuck, becoming a babbling mess for her.

Tears start to fall from your eyes as you hear the sounds of her sucking against your pussy, not stopping to take a break or even breathe for a second. Sevika’s lips continue to smack against your pussy, fingers rubbing against your clit, making you overstimulated till you couldn’t think or see straight.

“I'm gonna cum, ‘Vika! Can’t hold it!” You squeal, feeling your cunt getting wetter and wetter, you were at this point you were squirting all over her mouth.

“That right, pretty lady?” Sevika whispers, your cunt being kissed by her pursed lips as a tease. Your eyes start to roll back a bit, nodding when you feel her sucking even more, her tip pushing and out of your g-spot repeatedly. The tip of her tongue working hard and making sure you feel everything. She watches you clench around nothing, you feel the buildup in the pit of your stomach starting, one that begins much before a storm breaks.

“If only you could see how pretty this pussy is.” She spats against it, watching her saliva mixed with your pre-cum drip onto her lips. “Prettiest cunt I truly ever seen.” She mutters and you gasp a whine for her.

You start to feel as if butterflies decided to make a place in your insides. “That’s it, baby, that’s it, such a good girl, you’re almost there.” She reminds you, keeping you positioned against her lips. You continue to cry, your tears falling to your breasts, as you bounce against her mouth, wanting nothing but to cum all over her. You could feel your pussy feeling gummy, you could feel your pussy wanting its release.

Your moans are a melody for her, ones she would never get tired of hearing.

“That’s it, baby. Oh, you’re such a good girl for me, you’re my good girl, baby.” She moans out, and you feel your tummy tighten up right then. Your cunt tightens and soon, pouring out with your cum, she’s drinking you like water, happily keeping you spread out on her with her fingers now pushing your ass open.

She’s practically grinning at the sight of your pussy finally reaching climax.

Your cunt, tired and extremely swollen continues to let more cum out for her, and she continues to suck. You pant heavily, and she follows, her breath becoming heavy but her mind still focused on you.

After you were fully done, you sighed heavily, sweat all over your face now. Before you can speak, your door knocks and your eyes widen, “Mom?!” You shout, Sevika stopping her movements underneath. “Yeah, hey, just letting you know I came back from work.” She says and walks away, going back downstairs.

A sigh escapes your lips and you pull off Sevika, turning to see her, your eyes widen at the mess you left. “Oh…wow.” You muttered and she laughed quietly, “You did amazing, baby.” She informs and you smile, coming closer to her. “Is there a way I can thank you?” You say seductively and she hums.

“There are ways.” She mutters, you grab a tissue from your bedside table and she cleans her face. “Like what?” You question as you watch her, and she smirks.

“Think you can moan quietly?” She asks with a smirk and you smile, letting out a giggle.

me shoving my dildo in her cause i will get her pregnant.

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fluffmonger · 17 hours ago

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So, in my experience growing up as a deeply curious child in an Evangelical (tm) church..... We *did* read the Bible, we had Sunday school, and Bible studies, all kinds of things. My church used the New International Version as a standard, which keeps some of the poetics of King James, but is a lot clearer and cleaner to read, more modern English. Reading the Bible wasn't the issue at hand.

What we weren't taught was how to interpret the Bible in Context, as a document that was written by historic humans in historic societies and cultures, across several hundred years. There's... Depending on the church, and pastor or Bible study, you may get some emphasis on the difference between the gospels and the letters, or a rundown of the "parts" of the old testament ... But that's usually it. There's no digging into it, and absolutely no questioning. There's very little, if any, acknowledgement that it is in fact, a bunch of separate texts all compiled by a small group of Christians, decades or more after the death of Jesus. To many Christians, I'd wager it feels like the Bible just appeared fully formed out of the air one day, as their holy book. And of course you can't question it, it's *the word of God* so it has to be correct and right, and if you question you're Doubting and not Having Faith (etc).

I hadn't connected the fact that many of the writings of Paul, and John the Revelator were done in the Reign of Emperor Nero until recently, when my classicist partner saw the dates and went "wait what". And if you know anything about Nero well..... Is it any wonder that Paul might have some Concerns about things like morality, and public display of faith and other things? And again! I'm someone who was asking questions and such, all the time, even back then. I was deeply nerdy about it and trying to read it like I read in English class. This made me..... Unpopular. And also felt kind of blasphemous? Like, I always felt odd about that approach while I was in the middle of it because it was *not* standard.

Likewise, a lot of the old testament gets written off as "a collection of stories" and treated more like.... Parables or fables?? Instead of a written collection of Jewish oral history about their history, laws, traditions, and culture. It's all set vaugely "in the past, in Bible times" without any rooting to real history or landscapes or cultures. And of course, because the Bible is all that matters, most Protestants and evangelicals don't think at all about any of the scholarship that goes back millennia on any part of it, the writings of Rabis and later on Christian scholars. The Bible as I was taught, wasn't a living document or a record, it wasn't something to be debated about or argued with, or even questioned, no matter how weird it outdated it seemed. It was *law*, ironclad, and to the claims of many, perfect as is (despite being a work in translation with a lot of nuance and no understanding of translators bias or how a translation should work).

It's.... Pretty fucking dire, and horrific, especially to me now, because the things I've learned about the time periods that the Bible is from? Are actually fascinating, and make it *so* much richer as a text! And then understanding the world of early Christianity, how it became what it is today, how those beliefs and practices became established.... Man, it's fascinating. But again, there's this culture of "Christianity has always been like this and will always be like this" that's very present in those spaces that make it really hard to gain sight of it all.

And... Of course at the end of the day.... The reason people like me didn't realize some of this, is because we weren't told. We werent given the tools to ask the questions we needed to. You can't explore what you don't even know exists, and when you're just told that we don't associate with "those people" and are discouraged from thinking about other faiths except to convert them..... Well.

So yeah. It's not (just) that people don't have reading comprehension.... It's also that they quite literally arent taught the context and origins of their faith for.... Reasons. Also, American Christianity has always just been... Very extreme. Probably bc of the puritans but hey.

Since posting that "how many mass graves and extinct cultures" post last month, I've had multiple Christians in the notes whining that there isn't a "specific instruction of belief that Christianity needs to wipe out every other religion in the world" in Christianity's teachings, and that it's all just The Church/King James/etc.

And every time, I point to the literal text of the passages of The Great Commission.

And nearly every time, that shuts them up; the only time it didn't, it was to engage in some disgusting semantical goalpost moving.

But it's like...

Why do Christians not know the content of their own texts? Is your faith really so tribalistic and totemic around the concept of "Jesus" that you all don't bother to actually read the religious texts?

It feels like it must be--I've heard of too many instances of Christians walking out of readings of The Sermon On The Mount because they think it's "liberal nonsense" and the like, but I just find it baffling and more than a little sad that I, a Jew, apparently knows the New Testament's text better than the people who swear by it and ostensibly believe and follow it.

#exvangelical #bible bullshit

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lila-went-missing · 2 days ago

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Hiii, saw you wanted some requests for Sevika and I've had this idea bubbling up for a while. Imagine Vika with a reader that's normally experienced, yk has fucked one or two people before and it's not a sex god, and they're growing insecure about sevika never starting intimacy even after months of dating, so they think it's because they're not as good as the girl's she's been with before. Idk just thought that'd be good

I'm kind of obsessed with this, ngl. This isn't the first smut that I've written but it is the first smut that I've posted on here so feedback is always appreciated. Y'all will never guess... it's not proofread. Again. Enjoy my lovelies! X

Warnings: Smut (obviously), mild angst but nothing too horrible, mentions of body image issues but readers body type isn't specified or described.

Fem reader, of course, with female genitalia.

At first, you didn't think anything of it. She probably just wanted to take things slow with you. You weren't as experienced as her so she probably wanted to take her time.

That made sense for a while.

But now, after eight months together, you haven't had sex once. More importantly, she hasn't initiated it.

Realistically, you know that it's fine. There's plenty of reasons as to why nothing has happened so far. But that voice in the back of your head is doing a fantastic job of convincing you otherwise.

Sevika was kind of a sex symbol before you two got together.

She'd been with countless women, she was a regular at Babbettes. Her name was uttered on the streets like a sacred prayer.

You, on the other hand, have only been with two people: your ex, and a drunken one night stand that was less than satisfactory. So you did have sexual experience, but not nearly as much as her.

Honestly, it's starting to worry you.

Did she not like you? Was she not physically attracted to you? Was there something wrong with your body? Were you not showing enough skin?

Thoughts plagued your mind night and day. You were stuck in constant turmoil. It was impossible to stop your own brain once it got going.

It was taking everything in you to focus on the stove and not burn dinner.

You flinch at the sound of the door closing. Heavy footsteps sound through the house, approaching the kitchen.

Sevikas thick arms wrap around your midsection, her face making home in the side of your neck. For a long time, she doesn't say anything. The only sounds come from the meat sizzling in your pan. Moments like this make it easier to not think about the painful lack of aw sex life between you two.

Her lips purse, pressing small kisses against your skin. She hums against your neck.

"What are you cooking doll?" Her voice is muffled against your flesh but you understand her all the same.

"Spaghetti." You feel her smile.

"My favorite.." She mumbles. You hum a small "Mhm" before focusing back on the seasoned beef and water you're waiting for to boil. Her arms tighten ever so slightly, one hand slipping under your shirt. Her thumb caresses your bare skin.

It should be sweet but it really just drives the nail into the coffin for you.

Your voice comes out before you can stop it.

"Why won't you have sex with me?" You regret it the moment it leaves your mouth.

"I- woah, what? Doll what do you mean?" She honestly sounds baffled.

"Forget I said anything, please. It doesn't matter."

Her hands gently grab your shoulders, turning you around.

"No way. What are you talking about?"

You shake your head. "It's stupid.."

"It's not stupid if it's bothering you." She reassures you.

"It's just, we've been together for eight months, and we practically live together. But we haven't done anything. I know you don't have an issue having sex because half the undercity talks about how good you are and I just don't understand. Is there something wrong with me? Am I not appealing to yo-" Your rant is cut off by her lips. Her hands are holding you like glass, one on your cheek, one curled around your hip.

"There is nothing wrong with you." Her voice comes out as a soft whisper. "I'm sorry I made you feel like there was. I just knew that you don't have as much experience as I do. I didn't want you to feel rushed, or forced."

"Rushed? No, you could never.. I thought you just didn't want me that way." She immediately shakes her head. She kisses you again, more urgently this time.

Her hands grab anywhere they can, pulling you in. They're on your hips, waist, groping your ass.

"I do want you." Then they're picking you up and lifting you on the counter. "Let me show you how much I want you?" All you can do is nod as her lips trail down your neck. Her touch dances over your body, removing your top.

Her mouth follows soon after, sucking dark bruises into the skin on your neck and chest. She takes a nipple in her mouth and swirls her tongue around it. A low whimper leaves your mouth at the new, but not unpleasant, sensation.

Her right hand copies her tongue's motions on the other, pinching and pulling. Your body trembles against the counter with need.

She moves away from your breasts, kissing and licking down your stomach to your navel. Her hands unbutton your pants. She looks up at you as she lowers herself to her knees, silently asking for permission. You nod your head. You don't trust your voice. Your pants are off in seconds and thrown somewhere in the kitchen that you'll worry about later.

Her hand splays across your stomach and gently pushes you to lay against the tile. It's cold against your bare and burning skin, your back arching off of it but she keeps your hips pinned down.

You gasp as her teeth nip at the skin of your thigh. A breathy laugh leaves her.

"Shut up.." You mutter.

"Didn't say anything."

Your eyes roll in fake annoyance but you don't get the chance to reply as the cold air hits your bare cunt. Her thumbs pull your lips apart, admiring the sight before her.

"Fuck doll, you're so wet. All of this for me?" Her voice is husky between your legs and it stirs something delicious in your belly.

"Yes, all for you Sev.." She chuckles. Her teeth take the hem of your panties and drag them down your legs. She kisses your hips and navel, sucking hickies and marking you as hers.

"Please, Vika. Need you.." You whine. You can't bring yourself to care about how desperate you sound. You're sure that you look even more so from her position.

It seems, though, that your prayers have been answered because as soon as the words leave your mouth hers is back on you. This time it's between your legs.

She licks a long stripe up your pussy before stopping to suck your clit into her mouth. A loud moan reverberates from your chest as you lean your head back into the counter. Her tongue kitten licks at the bud before suckling on it like shes trying to nurse herself.

You've had people eat you out before but never this well. You don't think it could get better than this.

She moves down, opting to fuck you with her tongue instead. You definitely understand the appeal now. You've given yourself plenty of orgasms but this is the fastest one has risen before.

She feels it in the way you clench around her tongue and moves back to your clit. Her fingers fill up the now empty space, fucking into you in a gently but rough way only she could manage.

She's eating you like a woman starved and with the lack of sex the two of you have had she may as well be. If you didn't know better you might think this is her last meal.

Gasps and whimpers leave your mouth in a desperate way you can't stop.

"Fuck Sev.. ngh~ m'gonna cum, please.."

She smirks against you once more, speeding up her ministrations.

"Come on my tongue baby, make a mess on me." Her voice is muffled against you cunt, vibrations travel through your clit with her words.

You last maybe thirty seconds longer, hand tangled in her hair, before releasing over her tongue.

She laps you up, milking you for all that you're worth. She's never tasted anything more delicious. Her mouth doesn't let up until your whimpering from the overstimulation and pushing her head away.

She looks you in the eye as she sucks her fingers clean before kissing back up your body. Her lips lock onto yours and you can still taste yourself on her tongue. It makes your head spin in a way you've never felt before.

When you come back to earth, her hand is running through your hair.

"I'm sorry I made you believe that I didn't want to do that." She mumbles. "But now I may need it to be a daily thing." You giggle at her words.

"It's okay. I wouldn't mind honestly." She helps you sit up, a large hand cupping your cheek. "You didn't get to cum.." You whisper as you lean in closer.

"Don't worry about me, I'll get my fill later." The look on her face tells you that this isn't over. "I'm going to change out of these clothes. You just worry about dinner okay?" She slips your panties back on along with your shirt.

You nod, sliding off the counter. You wince at the mess you made but she's already wiping it up. Her lips meet your temple as she mutters a low, "I love you."

"I love you more." She shakes her head, chuckling before walking back to her room. You feel much better now, and you really can't wait for what she meant by "later".

#sevika x reader #sevika #arcane league of legends #arcane #sevika smut #fluff #hurt/comfort #smut #lesbian #wlw #wlw ns/fw #sevika x reader smut #sevika arcane #sevika my love #x reader #x reader smut

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pbaz7 · 3 hours ago

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FLIGHT 2136: PART 3

paige x azzi

warning: mentions car accident

word count: 10.3k

A/N: I have literally never written anything like this so I hope it comes across correctly. I swear some of your answers are in this chapter just be patient. Let me know what you think please 🫶🏼

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3rd Person POV - Friday

The morning light filtered softly through the hotel curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Azzi blinked a few times to adjust her eyes to the bright rays filing in, slowly waking her up to the quiet stillness of the room. Her gaze naturally drifted to Paige, who was still fast asleep beside her, the steadiness of her breathing reflecting her deep slumber.

Azzi watched her for a moment, taking in the sight of her in a way she hadn’t been able to before. The blanket had shifted considerably, low on Paige’s waist, and she was lying on her stomach, her hair a little messy on the pillow. Azzi’s gaze softened as she noticed how naturally beautiful Paige was, the little details that made her feel more real, more alive. The sunlight caught in Paige’s hair, highlighting certain strands that framed her face, even in her sleep.

Her eyes traced the sharpness of Paige's jaw, the arch of her nose, the curve of her lips that were relaxed in slumber. As Azzi looked at her she noticed that there was a scar, small and barely visible, near Paige's hairline. Azzi’s finger itched to trace it, to figure out the story associated with it, but she stayed still, careful not to disturb her. The quiet intimacy of the moment was too precious to ruin with a thoughtless action like that.

Her gaze moved lower, her eyes looking at the scar on Paige’s torso—the one from last night. It was more visible when Paige was facing her, but now, with her turned on her stomach, Azzi could only make out a small portion of it, curving along her side and reaching toward her back just slightly.

In the stillness, Azzi felt the weight of the moment, the growing sense of curiosity she had about Paige. She realized, then, just how little she truly knew about her—the person she had shared what felt like many lingering moments with in the past few days. Still, there were so many layers left to explore, so much left to understand.

It wasn’t lost on Azzi how much she wanted to know, how much she yearned to unravel the mysteries that Paige held beneath the surface. It felt like the beginning of something important, something bigger than just a random night in a hotel room. For now, though Azzi was content to just be here, beside her, breathing in the quietness of the morning as she gathered her thoughts.

Azzi lay there for a moment longer, watching Paige as she slept, it was all so peaceful. It felt weird, she could’ve stayed in that moment forever, but after a while, Azzi shifted slightly, careful not to disturb Paige. She slowly reached over the edge of the bed to grab her phone from her pocket, making sure not to make too much noise.

She unlocked it and couldn’t help but chuckle when she saw a text from Caroline pop up first: You still alive? Hope it was good.” Azzi typed a reply, “Yes, I’m alive and please relax.” A few more notifications popped up and Azzi spent a few minutes responding, her fingers moving across the screen.

The next time she glanced over at Paige, she noticed the subtle shift in her posture. Paige’s eyelids fluttered a little, and the quiet signs of waking up were starting to show. Azzi couldn’t help but smile to herself, lowering her phone as Paige slowly began to blink her eyes open.

Paige squinted slightly, clearly still adjusting to the morning light that filtered in through the window. Her eyes, that seemed to be a deeper blue with the way the sun was hitting them, met Azzi’s, a soft glimmer of awareness and curiosity in them. There was something so serene about the way Paige looked at her, a sense of familiarity already settling in, even though they had only known each other for such a short time.

Paige stretched a little, still blinking as she finally spoke in a raspy morning voice, “Morning.” She looked at Azzi for a beat longer, still processing the shift from sleep to reality.

Azzi couldn’t help but grin, the corners of her mouth moving upward as she replied, “Morning. You look like you just got out of a coma.”

Paige’s lips twitched, her eyes still half-lidded as she fought a smile. “Yeah? You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Azzi laughed softly, the moment between them feeling more natural than anything they had shared before. The tension that had once seemed so thick between them now seemed to have lifted, replaced with something lighter.

Paige’s gaze flickered to Azzi’s phone, still in her hand. “Telling your friends how good I was already?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Sure something like that,” she replied playfully. She lowered the phone and moved it to the side before she turned back to Paige. “So, how’d you sleep?”

Paige stretched once more, the slight stretch of her body revealing more of the scar near her side that Azzi had seen the night before.

"Like a rock," Paige said, her voice still a little horse. "You?" she asked, turning to Azzi who had the sheet covering her chest.

Azzi chuckled. "Yeah, better than I’ve slept in a while."

Paige kept her gaze fixed on Azzi, still lying there with her head on the pillow. "So, what now?"

Azzi smiled a little, the corners of her lips curling up. "I was hoping you'd know."

Paige returned the smile, raising an eyebrow. "Me? I thought you were the one with all the answers."

Azzi shrugged, not answering right away. Instead, she glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "What time is your flight?"

"6:15," Paige replied.

Azzi hummed quietly, not saying anything else for a moment as she just looked straight ahead. Paige, still looking at her, propped her head up with her hand, studying Azzi’s profile as her eyes danced over Azzi’s face.

Azzi shifted slightly, meeting Paige’s gaze again. "Stop looking at me like that."

Paige grinned. "Like what?"

Azzi let out a soft sigh. "Like you just had sex with me last night."

Paige laughed softly, the sound completely unguarded. "I did have sex with you last night."

Azzi smirked, shaking her head completely at a loss for words. The atmosphere between them felt so easy.

Randomly Azzi says, “Tell me something about you.”

Paige chuckled as she sat up, her shoulder brushing against Azzi’s. “What do you want to know?” she asked, her amusement with the question clear.

Azzi shrugged, her brown eyes warm but curious. “Anything.”

Paige thought for a moment, tilting her head slightly before offering, “Um…Well I’m 22.”

Azzi immediately cut in, unimpressed. “That’s boring, and I already know that.”

Paige laughed. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

Azzi smirked, motioning for her to continue. “Alright, go on.”

Paige licked her lips, thinking for another second before continuing, “I’m 22. My birthday is October 20th. Um… I like purple.” She trailed off, her mind suddenly blank on what else to add.

Azzi gave her an exaggerated look before deadpanning, “Wow. I feel like I’ve known you for years.”

Paige scoffed, shoving Azzi’s arm playfully. “Shut up.”

Azzi grinned, shaking her head. “I’m serious, that was definitely life-changing information.”

Before Paige could respond her phone ringing cut off her thought process, making both Paige and Azzi glance toward the desk where it was sitting. Paige sighed before pushing herself up, stretching her arms over her head as she walked over in just her boxers and sports bra. Azzi’s eyes lingered for a moment, biting her lip slightly as she took in the way the light outlined the toned muscles of her back.

Paige glanced at the caller ID before answering. “Hello.”

Azzi stayed in bed, half-listening as she tried to piece together the conversation once she heard Geno’s voice. She could hear his voice through the speaker, though not clearly enough to make out every word. Something about wanting Paige to come by campus for a bit before her flight since she didn’t have much time to officially meet the team and hangout with them yesterday. Paige hummed in response here and there, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk when she noticed Azzi watching her.

Paige hung up a few moments later, still smiling as she turned back toward the bed. Before she could explain, Azzi’s phone started ringing. She frowned when she saw Geno’s name on the screen, glancing at Paige, who shrugged before disappearing into the bathroom.

Azzi exhaled and answered. “Hey, Coach.”

“Paige is coming to campus in about 20 minutes. I’m sending her your number so she can call you when she gets there. Make sure she feels comfortable,” Geno instructed, his voice casual yet expectant.

Azzi bit back a smile even though he couldn’t see her. “Yeah, I got it. Don’t worry.”

Geno seemed satisfied with that and ended the call. Azzi sighed, tossing her phone on the bed before standing up and stretching. While looking for her shirt her eyes landed on Paige’s black oversized shirt from yesterday, thrown over the chair. Without thinking much of it, she grabbed it and slipped it on. It was small, but she caught a faint trace of Paige’s scent on the fabric and it felt strangely intimate. As if they hadn’t just woken up in the same bed.

She walked toward the bathroom, leaning against the doorway as she watched Paige brush her teeth.

Paige caught Azzi’s reflection in the mirror, her gaze flickering down to the black shirt draped over Azzi’s frame before meeting her eyes again. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she mumbled through the toothpaste, “Looks good on you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, shifting her weight against the doorframe. “Please don’t start.”

Paige chuckled, spitting into the sink before rinsing her mouth. She turned around, leaning back on the counter as she reached for the towel. “I’m just saying.”

Azzi scoffed, but there was a slight tug at her lips, betraying what she was about to say. “Don’t get used to it.”

Paige just smirked, tilting her head slightly as she looked at Azzi like she knew something she wasn’t saying. Azzi held her gaze for a moment before shaking her head, pushing off the doorframe. “Hurry up,” she said, turning back toward the bed. “I’m not gonna be the reason you’re late.”

Paige watched her go, her smirk still lingering as she wiped her face.

Paige walked out of the bathroom and settled for throwing on a hoodie and a pair of sweats. Turning back toward the bed, she grabbed an extra pair of sweatpants and some boxers and tossed them to Azzi.

Azzi caught them easily saying. “Thank you,” as she slipped them on.

Once they were both ready and Azzi grabbed all of her clothes, they stepped out of Paige’s room.

When they got outside there was a slight breeze as they made their way to Caroline’s car. Azzi unlocked it and slid into the driver’s seat while Paige got in the passenger seat, a lingering smile still tugging at her lips.

Azzi caught the look and sighed, shaking her head as she started the car. “You’re still smirking.”

Paige shrugged. “I didn’t say anything.”

Azzi gave her a pointed look before exhaling a small laugh. “You don’t have to, it's litrally all over your face.”

Paige chuckled but didn’t say anything else, letting the conversation fade into a comfortable silence, the soft hum of the car filling the space between them as they drove toward campus.

When they arrived, Azzi pulled into Caroline’s usual parking spot and turned off the engine. They stepped out, making their way up the stairs to Azzi’s suite.

The second Azzi pushed open the door, she was met with Caroline and Ice lounging on the couch. Both of them took one look at her, eyes dropping to the clothes in her hand before flicking to the shirt and sweats she was wearing. Matching smirks immediately spread across both of their faces.

Azzi paused for half a second before exhaling through her nose, already regretting the situation.

Paige followed, moving into view just enough to lift a hand in a wordless acknowledgment. Ice and Caroline’s eyebrows lifted slightly, clearly not expecting to see her here, both of them thankful they kept their mouths shut for a second.

Azzi kept her expression neutral as she said, “Geno wants us all to hang out with her today before she leaves.”

They both nodded, but the smirks never left their faces. Azzi didn’t entertain it, instead glancing at Paige for a second. She immediately noticed the shift—how Paige’s energy had seemed to dim. Her entire demeanor was more reserved now, quieter, a stark contrast to how she’d been that morning in the hotel of just moments ago in the car.

Azzi frowned slightly before saying, “You can just come with me until the rest of them get here.”

Paige met her eyes briefly before nodding, following Azzi deeper into the suite and into her room.

When they got to Azzi’s room, she shut the door behind her while Paige settled into the chair in front of her desk. Azzi moved to her closet, tossing her clothes inside before straightening up and turning back toward Paige.

Paige was looking around, taking in the space with quiet curiosity. Azzi leaned against the closet door, watching her for a moment before asking, “Is it what you expected?”

Paige glanced at her and nodded. “Surprisingly, yeah.”

Azzi chuckled, grabbing her phone and sending a message to the group chat, telling them all to come to her suite courtesy of Geno. Almost instantly, the message started getting likes, but she didn’t linger on it. Placing her phone down, she looked back at Paige.

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go brush my teeth and make myself presentable,” Azzi said.

Paige gave a small nod, and with that, Azzi slipped out of the room, making sure she shut the door behind her.

Left alone, Paige let out a soft exhale, her gaze drifting across the room until it landed on a corkboard hanging on the wall. It was filled with pictures—Azzi’s life in high school and college. Paige leaned forward slightly, eyes tracing over the pictures, and before she realized it, a small smile had formed on her lips.

When Azzi returned from the bathroom, her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face. She shut the door behind her again and moved to lean against the desk, standing just a few inches from where Paige was sitting, her leg brushing against Paige’s knee.

Paige glanced up at her, eyes flicking to her hair before smirking slightly. “Cute.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Me or the bun?”

Paige shrugged. “Both.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the way her lips twitched. “You’re lucky you’re charming.”

Paige leaned back in the chair, spreading her legs a bit more. “I know.”

Azzi gave her a look, smiling at her. “Oh, you’re back now, huh?”

Paige tilted her head. “Back?”

Azzi motioned toward the door with her chin. “You got a little stoic out there.”

Paige exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “Just wasn’t in the mood to be the center of attention first thing in the morning to strangers.”

Azzi studied her for a moment before nudging her knee with her own. “Well, it’s just us now.”

Paige grinned up at her. “Yeah?” Paige licked her lips as she looked up at Azzi, “So what you wanna do about it?”

Azzi shook her head, biting her lip slightly to stop a smile. “I should’ve left you in the hotel.”

Paige chuckled, tilting her head back against the chair as she looked up at Azzi. “Too late now.”

“Unfortunately.”

Paige kept her eyes on Azzi, her gaze unwavering. It made Azzi shift slightly, the intensity of it throwing her off.

“Stop,” Azzi muttered

Paige raised an eyebrow. "Stop what?"

"You’ve had that look on your face since you woke up."

Paige just hummed in response, the smirk never leaving her lips as she continued looking up at Azzi.

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “Can you at least tell me what you’re thinking?”

Paige slouched further against the chair, her legs spread slightly, and lazily shook her head. “No.”

Azzi didn’t respond immediately, just studied her, trying to decipher whatever was running through her mind. Paige, still lounging effortlessly, absentmindedly started playing with the hem of her shirt that Azzi was wearing.

Azzi glanced down at her hand before raising an eyebrow. Without hesitation, she swatted Paige’s hand away.

Paige scoffed at the action.

From down the hall, the sound of voices grew louder, the unmistakable clamor of the team filling the suite.

“I think the team’s here,” Azzi murmured, straightening up from the desk as she glanced toward the door.

Paige didn’t respond. Instead she took a moment before she stood up, immediately in Azzi’s space—close enough that Azzi could feel the warmth radiating off her. They both noticed the closeness but neither of them moved, locked in a quiet stare.

Azzi looked Paige up and down with a small smirk playing on her face. “You know if you want to–”

KK’s voice rang out through the suite and interrupted whatever Azzi was about to say, “Azzi, stop hogging the recruit!”

Azzi chuckled, while Paige simply exhaled through her nose. Without a word, she stepped back, casually shoving her hands into her pockets before following Azzi out of the room.

As they stepped out of Azzi’s room, the noise in the suite became more apparent. The team was already gathered, everyone lounging in comfortable clothes—sweats, sweatshirts, sneakers—looking relaxed. No one made any formal introductions again, but the moment Paige stepped into the living room, the attention shifted to her. They all greeted her, some with friendly smiles and others with more playful words trying to immediately make her feel comfortable, but the ease of the atmosphere didn’t seem to reach Paige fully as she sat down on the couch and Azzi walked to the other side of the room.

As soon as Paige sat down KK took a seat next to her, KK’s natural energy radiating off of her as she looked at Paige. “So,” KK said, trying to strike up a conversation, “What makes you not boring like everybody else? Gimme something good.”

Paige glanced over at her, her lips curling up in a small, reserved smile. “Um, I don’t know,” she said, shrugging slightly. “I play basketball. That’s pretty much it.”

KK groaned but pressed on. “Okay, but what do you like to do when you’re not playing? There has to be something interesting about you.”

Paige didn’t answer right away, her gaze flicking to the others in the room as if searching for something to latch onto. Finally, she let out a breath and gave a half-smile, her eyes momentarily flicking back to Azzi who was standing by the counter. “I don’t have much time for hobbies these days honestly. Mostly just rehab and working out, been doing a lot of visits and when I’m not doing any of those I watch my team practice. Homework I don’t know.”

Aubrey nodded, chiming into the conversation. “That’s fair,” she said. “But I mean, everyone has something outside basketball, right? You like any movies or music? Come on, give us something. You sound like a robot dawg.”

Paige’s jaw tightened slightly, and she leaned back a little more on the couch, her posture still casual but distant. “I mean yeah I like music. R&B, mostly, a little of everything though” she replied, her voice steady but a little guarded.

The conversation kept going, but it was clear that Paige wasn’t opening up much. She was here physically, but emotionally she was closed off. There was confidence in her responses—no hesitation, no awkwardness—but not much more. She didn’t offer much beyond what was necessary to keep the conversation moving or to answer direct questions they asked her.

Azzi caught the shift in Paige’s demeanor the moment she looked over and saw Paige staring off into space, her finger absentmindedly spinning the ring on her hand. It was subtle, but Azzi noticed. Azzi pushed off the counter, excusing herself from the conversation with Ashlynn and Jana, and made her way over to where Paige was sitting on the couch.

She lowered herself into the seat next to her, close enough that their legs brushed together.

“Whatcha thinkin about?”

Paige blinked, breaking out of her thoughts, and her eyes slowly shifted over to Azzi. A faint smile appeared on her face. She shook her head. “Nothing much.”

Azzi didn’t buy it. “I don’t believe you,” she said simply.

Paige chuckled, a small and unconvincing sound, before her gaze shifted back to the group as the noise around them seemed to fill the air.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Are you uncomfortable?”

Paige quickly shook her head. “Not uncomfortable, just… not much to say really.”

Azzi muttered under her breath, almost too quietly to hear, but Paige caught it. “You sure had a lot to say last night.”

Paige chuckled at this, tilting her head slightly as she met Azzi’s gaze. “I don’t think you wanna get into that with me right now,” she murmured.

Azzi held her gaze, her lips twitching, but before either of them could push further, a voice cut through the moment.

“Yo, Paige!” Aubrey called from across the room.

Paige let the stare linger for a second longer before finally tearing her eyes away, turning toward Aubrey. “Yeah?”

“How tall are you?” Aubrey asked, her expression unreadable.

Paige blinked, thrown off by the random question. “Six foot.”

Aubrey nodded. “You can shoot?”

Paige huffed a small laugh, still confused but playing along. “Yeah.”

Without another word, Aubrey simply nodded again and went right back to her conversation, as if she hadn’t just stopped the room to ask.

Paige frowned slightly, looking over at Azzi, who just shrugged.

Paige’s time with the team went like this for about another hour—mostly talking to Azzi, though every now and then, someone would chime in with a random question that Paige would answer. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to talk to people. She just didn’t do well with new people, with people she didn’t know. Simply because she didn’t like small talk much. It was one of her pet peeves that had formed some time ago when her step mom would force her to talk through the pain in her ribs with pointless questions and comments.

After a few hours of chilling with the team it was time for Paige to head back to her hotel so she could go to the airport. She stretched slightly as she stood up, glancing at Azzi, who was already watching her.

“You heading out?” Azzi asked.

Paige nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

Paige didn’t argue, just slipped her hands into her pockets as she followed Azzi toward the door bidding goodbye to everyone before they walked out.

The two of them stood outside waiting for Paige’s uber not saying much. Paige rocked back on her heels, hands in her pockets, glancing at Azzi, who was leaning against the railing, arms crossed.

Azzi glanced at Paige. “So.”

Paige smiled softly, tilting her head. “So.”

Azzi exhaled, watching her carefully. “When are you making your decision?”

“I have to visit a few more schools first,” she admitted. “But soon.”

Azzi hummed at this, nodding slightly. Before either of them could say anything else, the Uber pulled up. Paige stood there for a second, looking at Azzi, searching for something in her expression. Then, a small smile tugged at her lips.

“How do you wanna play this?” Paige asked, her voice quieter now.

Azzi shrugged, her face unreadable.

Paige smiled at that before stepping forward, pulling Azzi into a hug. It was brief but firm, lingering just long enough before they pulled away.

Azzi met her eyes. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Paige smirked. “You have my number Azzi.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Are you actually going to text back?”

Paige shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to see.”

Azzi scoffed, shaking her head. “You aren’t as mysterious anymore. So your little ominous comments don’t work.”

Paige laughed at that, reaching for the car door. “I’ll text you.”

Azzi crossed her arms, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’ll text back.”

Paige met her gaze one last time, her expression softer now. “I’ll see you soon, Azzi.”

With that, she slid into the Uber, shutting the door behind her. Azzi stood there, watching as the car pulled away, her arms still crossed, her smile lingering, before she walked back upstairs.

…

After that day, Paige and Azzi kept in touch—not constantly, but enough. Their conversations were never rushed, never forced. A text here and there, one of them sending something random. Azzi sending a meme, Paige sending a highlight clip, both of them sending song recommendations that neither of them ever admitted to actually listening to.

Their texts always stretched over days. It would start off as a constant back and forth, but then one of them would respond hours later, sometimes even the next day, but neither ever seemed to mind. Azzi would send something sarcastic, Paige would respond with something equally dry, and it would spiral into playful messages until one of them finally let it die out—only for another conversation to start days later in the same effortless way.

What surprised Azzi the most during this time was that Paige always answered her FaceTime calls. She’d roll her eyes and act inconvenienced, but she never ignored them. “I told you I don’t like FaceTime,” she’d say when she picked up, usually lying in bed or at a random gym. Azzi would just smirk, tilting her head. “Then why do you always answer?”

Paige never had a real answer for that. She’d just shake her head, fighting a small smile before changing the subject.

Through these scattered conversations, Azzi learned more about Paige. She found out that Paige was at a small Division II school in Minnesota, though she rarely talked about it unless Azzi pried, mumbling about how Azzi asked way too many questions. Azzi learned that Paige hadn’t played her freshman year because of the accident, and after tearing her ACL this past year, she still had two years of eligibility left. Though she planned to use just one—coaches seemed to think that was all she needed to prove that she could still perform on the big stage.

Azzi also learned little things. Like how Paige always listened to music when she couldn’t sleep, nothing too loud, just playing softly in the background so she could listen to the lyrics instead of all the random thoughts swirling in her head. She learned how Paige had a habit of spinning the ring on her finger when she was thinking or when she got a little nervous or uncomfortable. How she spaced off in the middle of conversations and came back to earth like nothing happened. How she only drank coffee if she was desperate, otherwise she stuck to water or the occasional shirley temple.

It was a slow process, getting to know her. Paige didn’t just offer things up freely, but Azzi didn’t mind the wait. The more Paige revealed, the more Azzi realized that, beneath all that confidence and “mystery,” she was someone who chose her words carefully. Someone who didn’t say things unless she meant them.

Paige learned about Azzi just as Azzi had learned about her.

It was almost effortless—Azzi carried most of their conversations, filling in the silences that Paige left behind. That was the first thing Paige realized: Azzi wasn’t necessarily talkative, but with her, she was. Because she knew Paige wouldn’t speak much unless she was eased into it first. If they were ever on FaceTime around Azzi’s team they were the one’s talking and yelling while Azzi usually just sat there offering a small comment here and there.

Paige learned that, despite being one of the healthiest people she had ever met, Azzi had an undeniable sweet tooth—so much so that if she could, she’d probably marry a sweet treat. Paige learned that Azzi loved to read, losing herself in books when she needed a break from the world. She learned that Azzi loved talking about the books she was reading when she was done, even when Paige had no idea what she was talking about most of the time.

She learned about Stewie, Azzi’s dog, and how just talking about him could make Azzi light up. Paige learned about the little things—the things that made Azzi smile, the things that made her laugh, the things that made her feel at home when she was away at school and missed her family.

And now, about a month or so later, they were about to see each other again.

Azzi hadn’t expected to see Paige. As far as she knew, Paige was still making her rounds, visiting schools, weighing her options. They had texted earlier in the day like usual—short, easy messages that stretched over time—but Paige hadn’t mentioned anything about being at the game.

The arena was loud, packed with energy as UConn went through their usual warmups. The rhythm of bouncing basketballs, sneakers squeaking against the hardwood, and the music blaring through the speakers filled the space. Azzi was locked in, focused on her silent routine, until a glance toward USC’s bench made her freeze for half a second and do a double take.

Paige was there. Sitting just behind their bench, in nearly the same spot she had been when she watched UConn play before.

Azzi’s eyebrows lifted slightly, her grip tightening around the ball in her hands as she tried to process the sight. Paige, of all people, at the USC game—against UConn, no less.

Paige, of course, had seen Azzi notice her. And, because she was Paige, she smirked, leaning back slightly in her seat when she caught Azzi’s eyes.

Azzi blinked, exhaling a short breath as she shook her head, trying to fight the smile tugging at her lips. This girl.

…

From the moment the ball tipped off Azzi spent the entire game battling against USC’s defense, which had clearly done its homework on the shooting guard. Every time she tried to move off the ball, two defenders shadowed her. Every screen she ran around, they fought through, or two people jumped at her. UConn’s offense, usually fluid and dynamic with the ball in her hands, felt a little stagnant without her usual rhythm.

Paige could see it—the way Azzi’s frustration built with every contested shot, every missed opportunity. She wasn’t playing badly by any means, but she wasn’t playing as freely as she usually did. From where Paige was sitting, she could see ways Azzi could create more space for herself. Small adjustments, little shifts in movement that could’ve made a difference. But all she could do was sit there and watch it unfold behind USC’s bench.

The game was tight all the way through, every possession feeling heavier as the clock wound down. But in the final minutes, USC managed to stay just a step ahead.

When the buzzer finally sounded, the scoreboard read 83-79 in USC’s favor.

The home crowd erupted in celebration while UConn’s players sighed, some shaking their heads, others already replaying the game in their minds. Azzi, standing near the baseline, exhaled sharply, hands on her hips as she looked up at the scoreboard.

From her seat behind USC’s bench, Paige simply watched it all unfold.

A few minutes after the game, once the immediate post-game chaos settled, Paige and Azzi finally made their way toward each other. Paige had stepped away from the crowd, having a few moments to herself while USC went to have their post-game talk. Azzi, fresh off the handshake line, was still coming down from the intensity of the game.

"You didn’t tell me you were coming," Azzi said as soon as they were close enough. The fans near them yelling to get Azzi’s attention.

Paige let out a soft laugh. "You always lead with something I don’t expect. Never a hello."

Azzi shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I don’t have a lot of time," she admitted, glancing over her shoulder toward the tunnel, where her teammates were heading in. "But I wanted to see where you were staying."

"The Marriott, a few minutes from here," Paige answered easily.

Azzi hummed at this. "Hm. Us too."

Paige chuckled, tilting her head slightly. "Guess I’ll see you later, then."

Azzi was about to respond, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw the final straggler from her team disappear into the tunnel. She knew she couldn’t afford to linger any longer, especially after a loss. Exhaling softly, she glanced back at Paige.

"I’ll text you," Azzi said instead.

Paige gave her a small nod. Azzi held her gaze for just a second longer before turning and walking toward the locker room.

…

Later that night, Paige was lying in bed, scrolling aimlessly through her phone, when a soft knock echoed through her hotel room. She blinked at the door before pushing herself up, already knowing who it was but still peeking through the peephole out of habit.

A smirk tugged at her lips as she swung the door open, revealing Azzi standing on the other side in an oversized hoodie and pajama shorts. Paige’s gaze dropped to the shorts, taking in the tiny red hearts printed across them.

“Nice hearts,” Paige teased.

Azzi rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips as she reached out and shoved Paige’s shoulder—though Paige barely moved.

Without another word, Azzi stepped inside, her expression expectant as she looked at Paige. Paige furrowed her brows slightly before realization dawned on her features. Without hesitation, she reached out, wrapping Azzi in a long, lingering hug.

Azzi let out a quiet sigh as Paige wrapped her arms around her, melting into the hug like it was exactly what she needed. Paige held her close, resting her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, feeling the tension still lingering in her body from the game.

"Long day?" Paige murmured.

Azzi huffed a soft laugh. "You could say that."

Paige smiled, pulling back just enough to look at her. "So, what? You came all the way up here just for a hug?"

Azzi raised an eyebrow. "Would that be weird?"

Paige shrugged. "Nah. I get it. I’m me."

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, she wandered further into the room, glancing around before flopping down onto Paige’s bed like she’d done it a hundred times before. Paige smirked at this.

"You make yourself at home real quick, huh?"

Azzi glanced up at her. "Well, you did say you’d see me later."

Paige huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head before pushing off the wall and making her way toward the bed. She sat at the edge, glancing over at Azzi, who was already sprawled out against the pillows, arms tucked behind her head, looking completely at ease.

Azzi turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on Paige. “How’d I play?”

Paige shrugged before shifting to lay beside her, mirroring her position. “Pretty good.”

Azzi arched her brow. “Not great?”

Paige shook her head. “No, not great.”

Azzi sighed, tilting her head back against the pillows as she mumbled “I hate basketball sometimes.”

Paige turned her head slightly, studying her before adding, “Their defense was basically ‘anyone but Azzi Fudd’ so don’t think about it too much.”

Azzi let out a quiet groan, staring up at the ceiling. "Tell me about it," she muttered. "Felt like they had three people trailing me at all times."

Paige turned her head slightly, glancing at her. "They did," she confirmed. "But you were still getting good looks. You just weren't creating enough space."

Azzi gave her a side-eye. "Oh, so now you're my coach?"

Paige laughed. "I'm just saying, I saw a few ways you could’ve gotten open."

Azzi rolled onto her side, propping her head up with her hand. "Yeah? Like what?"

Paige mirrored her, facing Azzi. "Couple times, you could’ve used your off-ball movement better. They were biting hard on screens—if you slipped off quicker, you would've had more separation. I don’t know if you had anyone to make the pass but still. And when you did get the ball, you hesitated just a little too long. You let them recover."

Azzi stared at her for a moment, her competitive nature flaring just slightly. "You really sat there analyzing me the whole game, huh?"

Paige smirked. "What else was I supposed to do? Watch USC?"

Azzi scoffed. "Yeah, actually."

Paige chuckled, nudging Azzi’s arm with her elbow. "Seriously though, you played well. USC just had a good scouting report."

Azzi sighed, rolling onto her back again. "Yeah. Sucks, though."

"Would've helped if you had a more consistent shooter."

Azzi turned her head toward Paige, raising an eyebrow. "Ashlynn can shoot."

Paige shrugged. "She can, But if she doesn’t make her first few shots, she’s nonexistent the rest of the game."

Azzi hummed at this but didn’t argue, staring up at the ceiling in thought. After a while she tilted her head to look at Paige who was just staring at the ceiling now. Azzi propped her head up on her hand again as she said, “Enough about me. How was your visit?”

Paige shrugged, not offering anything more.

Azzi gave her a pointed look. "How many times do I have to tell you? Shrugging isn’t a proper form of communicating."

Paige chuckled, finally breaking her silence. "It was alright, I guess."

Azzi narrowed her eyes. "Wow. Raving review. So... USC’s out of the running?"

Paige nodded. "Yeah."

Azzi hummed, studying her. "That was quick."

Paige smiled slightly. "I know what I want."

Azzi tilted her head. "And USC wasn’t it?"

Paige shook her head. "Not even close."

Azzi’s lips curled slightly, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she just traced Paige’s arm with her fingers. "Guess that means you’re running out of options, huh?"

Paige glanced down at her arm where Azzi was touching before saying. "Guess so."

Azzi shifted slightly, resting her cheek against her palm as she eyed Paige. “How many do you have left?”

Paige knew what she was asking—how many visits, how many schools still in consideration. She exhaled softly. “Two.”

Azzi nodded, her fingers idly playing with the string of her hoodie. “Are you actually considering them?”

Paige turned her head, meeting Azzi’s gaze for a brief moment before answering. “Not really…I have to go, though.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Paige laughed. “Because they’ll report all the other schools to the NCAA if I don’t.”

Azzi let out a laugh, shaking her head. “You really have schools breaking rules for these ‘unofficial’ visits?”

Paige just chuckled, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “Guess I’m a hot commodity.”

Azzi laughed at this and the room settled into a quiet stillness, the only sound the faint hum of the hotel’s air conditioning. Paige’s eyes flickered over Azzi’s face, taking in the way the dim light softened her features, the way her lips parted slightly like she had something to say but was hesitating. Azzi, normally composed, seemed almost hesitant now, her fingers playing with the string of her hoodie as she held Paige’s gaze.

Finally, Azzi exhaled. “Can I kiss you?”

Paige smiled a little at the question and gave a small nod.

With the confirmation, Azzi closed the distance between them, her fingers brushing gently against Paige’s jaw before tilting her chin up and capturing her lips in a slow kiss. Paige exhaled steadily against Azzi, her hands finding their place on Azzi’s hips.

Not long after the kiss started Azzi tilted her head, deepening it, and Paige followed her lead, nipping at Azzi’s bottom lip just enough to make her sigh.

The sound sent a warmth through Paige’s chest, and before she could process it, Azzi shifted forward instinctively, settling more comfortably in Paige’s lap, her knees pressing into the mattress on either side of Paige’s waist.

Paige’s hands slid upward, fingertips grazing the skin just beneath Azzi’s hoodie, tracing patterns. After some time, Azzi pulled back slightly, her lips parting as she exhaled.

“We can’t,” she murmured, her voice breathy but firm.

Paige, still beneath her, let out a low chuckle, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles against Azzi’s waist. “I know.”

Azzi blinked, slightly thrown off by Paige’s lack of protest. “You know?”

Paige nodded, her blue eyes flickering with amusement as she tilted her head back against the pillows. “Yeah. You spent all day yesterday texting me about how bad your cramps were,” she reminded her. “And how none of this actually makes sense because men are the ones with Adam’s apples.”

Azzi huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head as she sat back a little, still straddling Paige. “Hm. I sure did say that.”

Paige hummed in acknowledgment, her fingers still lazily circling Azzi’s waist, her touch lingering. She was looking at Azzi in the way she seemed to do a lot lately—like she had her completely figured out.

Azzi shifted slightly, her gaze flickering between Paige’s eyes as she noticed the way Paige was just… staring at her. Not in a way that made her uncomfortable, but in a way that made her feel like Paige was seeing right through her—like she was memorizing her, like she was thinking about something she wouldn’t say out loud.

Azzi’s voice was quiet when she finally asked, “What do you think about when you look at me?”

Paige’s fingers were still circling lazily against Azzi’s waist, her touch warm. She blinked at the question, lips parting slightly before she simply answered, “Too much.”

Azzi hummed at this, tilting her head slightly. “Why?”

Paige sighed, her expression shifting into something a little more distant. She took a moment, as if deciding whether she wanted to answer, before finally saying, “Don’t wanna make the wrong decision.”

Azzi didn’t respond right away, but her silence and the look she was giving her encouraged Paige to continue.

Paige inhaled deeply before saying, “Life has a way of being unpredictable and a little cynical, regardless of your intentions. So I think about everything I’m doing way too much, hoping I can control the outcome… even though chances are I can’t.”

Azzi studied her, processing the weight behind Paige’s words. Without thinking, her fingers moved to the ring on Paige’s finger, gently spinning it the way she had seen Paige do. She hesitated before asking, “Is it because of the accident?”

Paige didn’t answer right away, but the way her jaw tightened—how her fingers briefly stilled against Azzi’s waist—was answer enough. After a second, she gave a small nod.

Azzi kept her touch light as she continued to toy with the ring, her voice even softer when she said, “You don’t talk about it much.”

Paige let out a quiet breath, eyes flickering away for a moment. “Not much to say.”

Azzi shook her head slightly. “I think there’s a lot to say. You just don’t want to.”

Paige chuckled under her breath, but there was no humor in it. “You make that sound like a bad thing.”

“It’s not bad,” Azzi murmured. “Just… something I’ve picked up on.”

Paige exhaled, staring past Azzi for a moment, her thoughts somewhere else. Then, with a small shake of her head, she finally admitted, “It’s just… easier. Not thinking about it, not talking about it.”

Azzi watched Paige carefully, noting the way her fingers twitched slightly against her waist. She let the silence settle between them for a moment before asking, “Have you ever talked to anyone about it?”

Paige’s lips pressed together briefly before she shook her head. “No.”

Azzi’s brows furrowed slightly. “Why not?”

Paige exhaled through her nose, then looked up at her with a soft smile. “You ask a lot of questions, pretty girl.”

Azzi huffed a soft laugh. “And you usually answer them, gorgeous.”

Paige let out a breath, her smile fading into something more thoughtful. She glanced away before finally saying, “No point. Every time I try, I just end up thinking about all the different decisions I could’ve made. Doesn’t do me any good.”

Azzi didn’t respond right away, just watching Paige as she absentmindedly traced circles against her skin. There was something raw in Paige’s admission, something unspoken lingering between them.

“You know there’s nothing you could’ve done. You can’t control the world Paige.”

Paige nodded, but she didn’t speak, her eyes fixed somewhere past Azzi’s shoulder. Azzi could tell she wasn’t fully convinced—just because she knew it didn’t mean it was easy to accept.

“I know,” Paige finally said, her voice quiet. “But there’s just a lot from that day that could’ve changed things.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly. “Like what?”

Paige hesitated. Azzi saw the way her lips parted like she was about to say something before she stopped herself, debating.

But then Paige’s gaze shifted, fully looking at her—the way Azzi was straddling her hips, the way she was still idly playing with the ring on her finger, the way her brown eyes were searching but so patient and warm.

Suddenly, Paige just started talking. “You know my little brother, Drew?”

Azzi nodded.

Paige stared past her for a second before continuing. “That day, he was bugging me all afternoon to go get ice cream. I mean, non-stop—every few minutes for some reason. But I was tired from the games that week, and I had a workout later that day, so I didn’t really want to leave the house before I had to. But I promised him we would go… just not right then.”

Azzi stayed silent, just listening as Paige’s voice took on a more distant quality.

Paige chuckled dryly. “When it was time for my workout, I couldn’t drive because I didn’t put gas in my car the night before, so we all went together—me, my dad, my stepmom, and Drew. Ironically we had never even done that before, that was the first time everyone was coming to one of my workouts. We left a little earlier than we needed to, and when Drew noticed he asked if we could stop for ice cream.” Paige let out a small, humorless huff, eyes still unfocused as she spoke. “My dad looked at me in the rearview mirror and said it was my workout so it was up to me. And I always hated saying no to Drew and I had said no so many times that day already, so I said of course.”

Azzi saw the moment Paige started slipping away, her expression flattening, her words turning mechanical, like she wasn’t even processing them as they left her mouth.

“So instead of going straight, we turned right,” Paige said, her voice distant, like she was narrating someone else’s life. “A few blocks later, one light before we were going to turn into the coldstone, there was this Pepsi truck. I guess he was coming off the highway too fast or something. He couldn’t brake in time, so he ran the light while we were in the intersection.”

She swallowed hard.

“The truck hit the side of the car my stepmom and I were on…They say your brain is supposed to block out things like that. Make it easier. But I remember everything. I just—” Her voice faded, like the words had dried up in her throat. Her eyes were glossy, unfocused, trapped in a memory she couldn’t shake. She blinked once, slowly, then murmured, “And yeah. That was that.”

Paige let out a shaky breath before continuing, her voice rough.

“And I hated the world for so long. Sometimes I still do honestly,” she admitted, a bitter edge creeping into her tone. “Because I—I did everything right. I prayed every night, I gave back, I was generous, selfless, I worked hard, I did everything they say you’re supposed to, and that still happened. But then I remember I can’t hate the world. Because we’re all still here and healthy. I still get to play the game I love. I’m still so blessed. So I can’t even give myself the grace to be upset about everything.”

Silence settled between them as Paige just stared into space.

Azzi glanced down at Paige’s hands, noticing how cold they had become. She squeezed them softly, rubbing her thumbs over the backs of Paige’s knuckles, trying to get the blood flowing again.

“Paige,” Azzi said gently, her voice barely above a whisper. She squeezed her hands again, firmer this time, tilting Paige's head slightly to meet her eyes. “Hey.”

Azzi watched as Paige slowly came back to herself, the distant haze in her eyes clearing as she blinked a few times. Her gaze refocused, landing on Azzi like she had just remembered she was there.

“Hm?” Paige murmured.

Azzi softened her hold on Paige’s hands, giving her the space to pull away if she wanted to—but she didn’t let go completely. She just held on. “What do you need?” Azzi asked gently.

Paige exhaled, her fingers flexing slightly in Azzi’s grasp. “I’m good,” she said, but there was no real conviction behind it.

Azzi didn’t argue, didn’t push. She just said, soft but firm, “Paige.”

Paige licked her lips, taking a slow breath. “Tell me something about you.”

Azzi studied her for a moment, then nodded, shifting slightly where she sat. She thought for a second before a small smile tugged at her lips.

“Okay,” she said, tilting her head. “During CoVid, my brothers and I got so bored one day that we decided to go out on the patio and I gave them haircuts.”

Paige’s brows lifted slightly, intrigued.

Azzi grinned. “And not just any regular haircuts. I was cutting shapes into their heads. Like, just completely ruining them. I had no idea what I was doing, but they let me do it anyway.”

Paige huffed a small laugh, and Azzi could see the lightness in her eyes start to return.

“I drew a basketball in one of their heads, even added my jersey number,” Azzi continued, laughing at the memory. “It was awful. Just—bad all around. But we were dying the whole time. Even my parents came out to watch.”

Paige chuckled, the sound quiet but genuine. “They actually let you do that?”

“Oh yeah,” Azzi nodded. “We were locked in the house for months; we needed entertainment. I think they regretted it as soon as they saw their reflections, but at that point, it was too late.”

Paige shook her head, smiling softly. “That’s ridiculous.”

Azzi shrugged. “Definitely. But I think it’s one of my favorite memories. Just us being stupid and not caring about anything else.”

Paige looked at her for a long moment, then exhaled. “Sounds nice.”

Azzi gave her hands another squeeze. “It was.”

They stayed like that for a few beats, the weight in the room a little lighter now. Azzi watched Paige carefully, making sure she was really back, that she wasn’t slipping away again.

“You good?” Azzi asked quietly.

Paige nodded, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s where they were still intertwined. “Yeah,” she murmured.

Azzi studied her for a moment before speaking softly. “Thank you for telling me that.”

Paige didn’t say anything at first—just nodded again. Then, with a gentle tug on Azzi’s hoodie, she pulled her down, closing the space between them. Their lips met in a kiss that felt different from all the others—not rushed or hesitant. It was just them, existing in this moment, wrapped up in each other.

Azzi sighed into the kiss, her hands moving instinctively to cup Paige’s face, her thumbs brushing over her cheeks. Paige’s fingers curled around the fabric of Azzi’s hoodie, holding her close, like she needed this—like she needed her.

The kiss continued to slowly deepen, neither of them in a rush to pull away. It was a quiet kind of intimacy, one that didn’t need words.

Then—

A knock at the door.

Azzi broke the kiss, her head moving toward the sound as her breath came a little uneven. Paige groaned, her head dropping against the pillow.

Azzi exhaled a quiet laugh, still slightly dazed as she glanced down at Paige. “You expecting someone?”

Paige shook her head. “No.” She tapped Azzi’s leg, silently telling her to get up. With a small sigh, Azzi slid off Paige’s lap, settling back against the pillows as Paige stood and walked toward the door.

Azzi couldn’t see who it was from where she sat—the way the hotel room was laid out blocked her view—but she heard the confusion in Paige’s voice when she opened the door.

“Wassup?”

A second voice answered, a little sheepish. “I think I left my charger here earlier. And I know you’re leaving tomorrow, so I didn’t wanna be SOL.”

Paige chuckled. “Hold on, I’ll grab it.”

She stepped back into the room, her eyes scanning for a moment before she spotted a charger near the couch. Grabbing it, she walked back toward the door.

“Thanks,” the voice said.

“No problem,” Paige replied easily before shutting the door behind her.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching slightly. “I didn’t realize your hotel room doubled as lost and found.”

Paige laughed as she sat back on the bed. “Ha ha, very funny.”

Azzi tilted her head. “Who was that?”

“Just one of the girls from the USC team,” Paige said casually.

Azzi’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at this, and Paige immediately caught on, shaking her head. “It’s not what you think.”

“I didn’t even say anything.”

Paige scoffed. “It was all over your face.” She shifted, propping herself up on her elbow as she continued, “A couple of them came over yesterday before the game and just chilled here with me because my flight’s early tomorrow.”

Azzi hummed at this, but Paige could tell her mind was still working.

“What?” Paige prompted, watching as Azzi hesitated for a moment before finally asking, “Have you slept with anyone since me?”

There wasn’t a single beat of hesitation before Paige answered, “No.”

Azzi didn’t say anything for a moment, her gaze lingering on Paige. Paige studied her in return, waiting, until the silence stretched a little too long.

Finally, Paige spoke again. “There’s no one else, Azzi.”

Azzi looked at her, eyebrows furrowing slightly as if processing the weight of the words. Then, softly, she responded, “I know. I’m just processing why the thought crossed my mind.”

Paige chuckled, leaning back on the bed with a casual smile. “I already told you why…You were way too interested for it to be just one night.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but there was a softness in her expression now. “You’re full of yourself,” she muttered. “I miss when you didn’t speak unless spoken to.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the bed with a smug smile. “Really?” she teased.

Azzi sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “No,” she said, her voice softening. “I don’t miss it, but it was... easier.”

Paige chuckled. “I’ll remember this when you’re begging me to say more than two words on FaceTime.”

Azzi smirked. “I’ll give you at least three. You probably say ‘I don’t know’ more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Paige’s lips twitched as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You say ‘I don’t know’ just as much as I do. Don’t act like I’m the only one with the habit.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “I do not.”

Paige grinned. “You literally said ‘I don’t know’ like five times today before noon.”

Azzi rolled her eyes again, though it was clear she was trying not to laugh. “Okay, maybe once or twice,” she conceded, but then pointed at Paige, “But that’s because you’re always asking me impossible questions.”

Paige laughed fully. “Impossible questions? I ask things like, ‘How’s your day?’”

Azzi raised her hand in mock surrender. “Fine, I’m outnumbered.”

Paige smiled, her eyes warm with affection. “Yeah, you are.”

Azzi's phone rang from the nightstand next to the bed, interrupting their playful exchange. She glanced at the screen, letting it ring a few times.

“You gonna get that?” Paige asked with a smirk.

Azzi rolled her eyes but picked up her phone. “I was about to, if you give me a second.”

As Azzi answered, Caroline’s voice instantly filled the room, loud and clear. “Stop having sex with the recruit and come back to the room. CD’s having room checks soon.”

Azzi let out a laugh. “If I was having sex, I wouldn’t have answered the phone, babe.”

Caroline’s voice came back with a sigh. “Whatever. You’ve got like fifteen minutes.”

Azzi sighed, glancing at Paige as she responded, “Okay, bye,” before hanging up. She tossed the phone onto the nightstand, her expression now amused as she met Paige’s gaze.

Paige’s eyebrows were shot up in disbelief. “Sex with the recruit?”

Azzi gave her a pointed look, rolling her eyes. “Shut up.”

Paige stood up, slipping on her Ugg Tasman slippers. “Come on, let’s get you back,” she said, glancing over at Azzi.

“You don’t need to walk me to my room.”

Paige shrugged casually, her usual nonchalance apparent. “I don’t mind.”

Azzi pushed herself off the bed, and as she reached for her phone, Paige grabbed her phone and keycard. The two of them walked out of the room, moving silently down the hall.

The walk to the elevator wasn’t awkward—just quiet. Azzi was lost in her thoughts, her mind drifting to places she hadn’t quite sorted through yet regarding the game.

Once inside the elevator, Paige leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. The hum of the elevator made the moment feel peaceful, a brief pause in their whirlwind of thoughts.

It was then that Azzi finally spoke, her voice soft but laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

Paige opened her eyes slowly, tilting her head slightly toward Azzi. She nodded, the motion small.

Azzi watched Paige as they stepped out of the elevator and began walking down the hall toward her room. She raised an eyebrow, noting the quiet shift in Paige’s energy. “Why’d you get all quiet on me?”

Paige glanced at her, a faint smirk pulling at her lips. “I didn’t. I was just letting you think.”

Azzi chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Right.”

When they reached Azzi’s door, she leaned casually against the wall, her arms crossed. Paige stood in front of her, looking down the hallway for a moment before meeting Azzi’s gaze.

Azzi hesitated, then said, “I probably won’t see you for a while.”

Paige nodded, not offering much else. Azzi studied her, noticing the subtle shift in her posture. “You did get quiet on me. What’s up?”

Paige shook her head. “Nothing. I’m good.”

Azzi gave her a pointed look, not buying it. “You sure about that?”

Paige sighed, looking down at her shoes for a moment before meeting Azzi’s eyes. “I’m just gonna miss you.”

Azzi softened at the admission. “Keep going,” she said quietly, sensing there was more to it.

Paige hesitated, biting the inside of her cheek. “It’s just—my thoughts are a lot quieter when you’re around, for some reason. It’s just a little jarring going back to that after you leave.”

Azzi’s expression softened as she let out a small pout, tugging on Paige’s shirt, pulling her closer. “You know, you make it hard to leave when you say things like that.”

Paige chuckled softly, a sheepish smile on her lips. “My bad.”

Azzi couldn’t help but smile at the unnecessary apology, her heart softening a little. “Come here.”

Paige hesitated for only a moment before stepping closer, the space between them closing. As soon as she was near enough, Azzi reached out, pulling Paige in by the waist to connect their lips.

The moment their lips met, Azzi felt Paige’s tense jaw, the tension still lingering in her. Azzi gently traced her finger along the curve of Paige’s jaw, coaxing her to relax. Paige let out a soft sigh, her body responding as she melted into the kiss, her hands coming to wrap around Azzi pulling her closer.

They stayed like that for several minutes, the world outside disappearing as they simply focused on the feeling of being with each other in the hallway. When Paige finally pulled back, her breath uneven, she murmured quietly, “Thank you.”

Azzi chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind Paige’s ear. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”

The two of them lingered close, their foreheads nearly touching as they just savored the moment in silence, comfortable in each other’s presence. Eventually, Paige stepped back, putting her hands in her pockets, though Azzi noticed how her fingers absently toyed with the ring on her finger.

Azzi laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re cute sometimes.”

Paige glanced at her with a playful smirk. “Thanks.”

Azzi turned toward the door, her hand moving to unlock it. "I’ll call you tomorrow," she said, her voice carrying the same familiarity that made everything feel a little more comfortable.

Paige nodded, her gaze softening. "Okay," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The brief silence between them lingered as Azzi slowly pushed the door open, stepping inside. She paused for a moment, eyes meeting Paige's one last time, before closing it behind her. Paige remained where she stood, her expression lingering. The soft click of the door locking was the only sound that followed, leaving Paige standing in the hallway for just a moment longer before she turned to walk away.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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heaven-s-black-box · 2 days ago

Text

Notes- Blabber Mouth; Anemo Men

x gn!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: February 9th, 2025

Description: Anemo version of Blabber Mouth

Notes: CW a few suprise pregnancies I put Wanderer in here, but I personally subscribe to trans-man Wanderer because why would Raiden give him a male body? Also, this series is slowly separating from the original prompt and I feel like I'm just making these kids psychic but shhh, babies

Hydro Dendro Cryo Pyro Anemo Electro Geo

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Aether

Kids , he likes them but never really thought they were in his future

I mean, he’s always traveling with his sister, it’s not until Teyvat that he kind of settles down

Abyss!Aether or Traveler!Aether, they meet you and staying here doesn’t sound too bad

Your first is an accident, they make the decision for him

Not that he wanted to leave you anyways

Your second is planned, but your first born beats you to tell him

Aether comes back from wherever he was, helping Khaenri’ah, a commission, ruling the Abyssal Khaeri’ans, and your kid tackles him in a hug

Then, without you saying anything, they talk about reading a story to the baby

And you play mock offense thinking they were reading to you and Aether is trying to figure out what baby

You send your kid off to clean up their toys so you can talk

Aether drops to his knees and hugs your waist

Xiao

It’s not that he doesn’t want kids, he just doesn’t think about it because he doesn’t want another thing he can’t have

He can’t be around people normally, being around an infant? Bad idea

So, you’d have to be anything but a mortal, someone who can be around him despite his debt

Then, he gives it some thought and he’s still really not sure

It takes many conversations for him to see your side of things

Cries the first time he holds your baby

As your first grows up, he tries to figure out how to broach the subject of having another

You laugh when he finally gets it out, face red, and quickly apologize before saying another sounds nice

Your kid is very defensive, and they try defending you from one of the dogs around Wangshuu inn one day

When you ask what’s wrong, because normally the dogs aren't a problem, your kid says they saw the dog scare a baby the other day

Takes you both a second to figure out how that correlates and then it’s a trip to Baizhu

He cries, the first time it wasn’t real to him until he held the baby but this time it’s real from the start

Venti

You guys start talking about having kids, and he’s not even sure he can have them

Like, he’s a windspirit and sure he’s in human form but how far does that extend

So your first born is a bit of a surprise

But he’s so happy, sings to them all the time while your pregnant

He drinks less too, can’t be drinking at Angel’s share when he’s trying to wrangle the little whirlwind into bed

It’s one such night when your little one runs out of their room and into yours

They curl up with you in your bed, and Venti’s trying to convince them to sleep in their bed

They declare they want to sleep with their sibling

You stop reading/pretending to sleep, confused, and Venti just gives in

They make a good point, how could he pull such a protective big sibling away from their little sibling

Venti’s been around enough to know that children can just tell these things

So he just wraps you all up in his wings and you go to Barbara in the morning

If either of your kids are boys, he’s naming him after the nameless bard

Kazuha

Kids… he wants them, he doesn’t want his family line to end with him

But, it’s not really an option when he’s on the run

Once he returns to Inazuma though, he gives it more serious thought

Spending time in the forge, he sees kids run by a lot and watches their awe as they watch him

He brings it up to you, and you have your first born

We don’t know what his friend’s name is, but your first born is getting named after him

Even if he has to alter it a little bit

He likes to write poetry with your kid, it helps their vocabulary, creativity, and fine motor skills

You two also use it to encourage their self expression

So they express their excitement about the friend in your belly

That poem is getting framed, it makes you both laugh

Heizou

Likes playing with the kids in the city and around Ritou

Hasn’t really considered kids of his own

It’s not until he sees you with the kids that he starts thinking about it

I think your first is an accident, but his excitement even surprises him a bit

Not that he thought he wouldn’t be happy/excited

And your kid takes after their father’s investigative curiosity

So you start acting off and they’re running their own investigation

This one is less of a “little kid sixth sense” and more like “mini detective”

They even get Heizou to join in the investigation

But there’s definitely a bit of weird sibling psychic-ness, your first born predicts baby's gender later on

Everyone’s excited, you first born is already planning investigations to do with them

Extra note, but Heizou definitely takes your infants on easy investigations strapped to his chest in a baby harness

Wanderer

I… don’t think he can have kids, I personally think he was not modeled with the required hardware (fully believe his original model was at least a ken doll and and at most fem)

But, between handling the electro gnosis and being around Dottore, I could see him getting the hardware and systems

I do not think he knows he has these systems, mostly because he’s never tried

So your kid is an accident

And Wanderer has a lot of thoughts but, I think he holds the baby and decides that he can do this

First baby’s name is Niwa

This kid has him wrapped around their finger, and he’s happy with one

And now that you two know he can get you pregnant you two are more careful

Your kid asks for a sibling and he’s not one to deny them if you’re okay with it

They’re also the one to tell you, one day they just press a kiss to your tummy before Wanderer puts them to bed for the night

Tighnari’s in the city, so you check in with him before he leaves

I think Wanderer surprises himself with the love he feels for his kids

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pegasussomnus · 1 day ago

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timber is bad for tim's character:

A. There is no real good reason to have him paired with Tim. He only appeared in six issues and none of his interactions with Tim gave us insight into who Tim was as a character or lead to any meaningful developments. The whole 'he represents the War Games era of Tim in terms of uncertainity' or 'his civilian life before losing his dad' that was used by the author, is just untrue as we never see Tim seriously appreciate his friendship like he does with say Ives, or the people at Brentwood as something that keeps him grounded or as a distraction from the hero life/normaly he needs nor do his interactions with Tim show said uncertainty like the struggle of balancing the civilian/hero life that we saw his above friends do. All of his appearances are either comic relief or a springboard/exposition for more important developments such as Tim's relationship with Darla.

There is also how he wasn't a close friend of Tim and more often than not, Tim was shown to not like him too much. At best they were casual friends and none of their interactions went beyond that. The nicest thing Tim said about him is that he "THINKS he's going to END UP LIKING" him not that he actually does so which at best shows Tim is willing to give him a shot.

At worst? Well

Yeah. The first panel is his first impression of him while the last three are the LAST interactions/mentions Tim has with him and occur after saying he 'thinks he's going to end up liking him'.

It makes no sense why Tim would even want to reconnect with him let alone date him. Tim's opinion of Bernard went from "I guess we can be friends but this guy is sus to "maybe he's not so bad and deserves a shot" to "nah screw this guy". It's telling we keep getting sold a false meta history of them being super close friends and have Bernard essentially replace Ives to try and sell the pairing.

B. Like it really doesn't do anything for Tim at all.

Bernard doesn't help Tim grow as a character, or even as a person relationship wise as Tim is still doing the same faults he did in past relationships with civilians not telling them he is Robin, keeping secrets, cutting dates/missing them, etc). but they are "resolved" by just making Bernard some ultra perfect guy who knows Tim's identity

Aka the resolution he had with Stephanie in terms of the civilian/hero life balance of having someone who knows both, so Tim is getting a balance he already had and not to mention you can't even say Tim progressed in this manner or learned from his mistakes as he never revealed his ID in the first place, so it requires no growth on his end) (never explained how he does, not to mention watering down Tim's competence in keeping his ID) so it's all moot.

Tim also doesn't progress in his civilian life at all. Like he lives on a boat and (it is said that Bernard helped motivate him to do this but never shown/explained at all and all we see is Bernard saying he likes it and the people there)? Like he doesn't even meaningfuly develop a connection with the people there aside from friendly neighbors at best. As an example There was this "subplot" of them being in danger of being evicted but Tim just doesn't care at all or do anything. Like why not use some of his wealth from his dad or something to like buy people's boats and resell them at a cheaper price so the people can stay?

The people on the boat don't even offer him a meaningful civilian connection as like I said he just doesn't connect with them and even then that civilian connection is kind of moot in the last issue when they all know his identity as Robin so that balance or finding a solution is rendered moot for the same reasons as above as he already found that balance with the Batfamily/YJ friends who know both aspects of his life and again he didn't even it reveal it to them.

Like what do they offer him? People to chill in a non-vigilante way? Like he can already do that with the Batfam/YJ and not to mention that as the series showed the Marina got involved in a lot of Robin related stuff because of Tim's ID, so it's also moot.

Another point is how Bernard for a 'relationship for Tim beyond Robin' really is a relationship where the substance largely comes from Robin. Like aside from Robin is how they got together which Bernard even states in issue 3, in the beginning of issue 7 when Bernard list why he likes Tim all the things he likes about him are reflective of his role as Robin. Like his whole trusting Tim to keep him safe, Tim being special, and Tim being his lucky charm, the examples he uses are of Tim saving him as Robin/being Robin.

And issue 7 also shows like I said above that what saves the relationship is Bernard knowing that Tim is Robin. Not to mention how he really only opens up to Tim/confides in him seriously when Tim is Robin as shown in issue 3 and 9. Hell in issue 3 when he talks about wanting to help Tim, knowing that he knows his ID, when he talks about Tim 'taking too much on his own and not asking for help and loosing himself or whatever' we know it's about Robin.

And issue 10 the grand saving moment for their relationship after the 'falling out' in issue 9 was Bernard saving the day in a Robin related mission and getting the ID reveal (but not really)

Issue 7 highlights how Tim really doesn't do anything for Bernard as Tim. Like all he does is tell him that his parents suck, he's great to make him feel better, and tell us a bunch of stuff about Bernard we've never seen before.....twice and given how the issue kept emphasizing this point (to the point where villains commented on it) and how over the top his parents/with Bernards heroic it felt generic and like the bare minimum and Tim felt like an exposition device.

Tim never really talks to him about his issues with his parents or actually substantially helps him as after Tim does the above it immediately cuts back to their relationship for cute moments. Like Bernard giving him the necklace isn't even connected to Tim 'helping' as he was gonna do that anyway.

Tim as a civilain is just the BF and the real substance comes from Robin (as it was a Robin related mission and Tim saving civilians as Bernard which lead/inspired Bernard trying to save his parents and oh look Robin once again is tied to their relationship)

TLDR: Bernard doesn't make sense as a pairing, doesn't do anything for Tim as a character nor fulfill the purpose he was supposedly brought back for

The mental gymnastics people do to hate timber should be studied under a microscope.

The fuck you mean he is bad bisexual rep because he is dating a man… and how does that makes him gay???? Have you ever talked to a bisexual person???

“Oh it makes less of his past relationships” how?? How?!? Is he not allowed to be infatuated with his current partner? Should he continue pining after his past relationships even tho he is dating someone else???

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opal-owl-flight · 24 hours ago

Text

John. John Splatoon. The man, the goofball the sweetest man youll see. Chatty, bubbly, and gives really good team morale.

But things arent all sweet.

I wonder if he shuts himself up when he feels hes being *too* jolly.

His family is kind. Its not their fault. Yknow how people are fucking mean to those who are very excited abt things.

I think he had an experience like that. Tanara was thankfully there when things started getting really bad.

John was made fun of when he first started turfing. He was just sooo excited abt it all. So enthusiastic!! He studied abt the greats, the top players, all that. And the bitchass mean kids thought itd be funny to crush his dreams.

They made fun of him when he rambles abt strategy. They mocked him whenever he tries to be a hero and gets fucking splatted for it (OH GEE, IF HIS TEAMMATES WERE ACTUALLY *HELPING* HIM HE WOULDNT HAVE GOTTEN GOT).

One time I think some bastard jammed his weapon so it was unusuable for a while, and he was unable to turf.

"Good riddance," the team had said. "That beak is finally quiet for once."

Tanara saw this happening and decided to stand up for him.

They saw this boy getting picked on, and didnt hesitate in open firing at the bastards. Didnt care if theyll get banned for a week for firing a weapon off the field.

"|Hey, are you the guy who cornered me in the last match? Color me impressed.|"

Tanara doesnt stand for bullies. Ever. They hate seeing these kinds of people in the leagues. They hate the fact that these nutjobs are so good at the game!!! they want to make the leagues a fun place for everyone. None of this fuckinh bullshit. From a young age theyve already defended others. Wanted to make a better world where everyone can just be who they wanted to be, grow into their best selves.

The orange squid was a big help. With them actually recognizing his talent and running by his side,,,

They made him believe in himself. Fuck what everyone else says.

"|We won because of your strategy,|" they sign. "|If it werent for you, we'd have lost the tournament.|"

And hes given a smile of encouragement. Oh, sweet understanding, sweet recognition.

For a tender year they and John built a strong team and friendship. John became this cheery man bc of them.

They helped him stand up for himself. Helped him in the art of not giving a fuck. Or raining retribution where it is applicable (the duo have sent bullies crying after giving fjem say -- a 20 second rainmaker match)

Whenever someone tries to make fun of him in the later years, or now -- even if Tanara is out of the picture bc theyre getting blended -- he will literally ignore the naysayers. Bc he knows. He knows Tanara believes in him. He knows his team believes in him. He knows many others do, as well.

He knows his own capabilities. He knows what his limits. And hes. God, theres a reason hes second in command. Hes smart about the sport. Hes scary on the field. Dont let the goofy attitude fool you. Hes having fun but you on enemy team wont!

Some people are recently saying that Tanara left their old team bc John was lagging too far behind them, that Ink Typh∞n is the natural next step for them.

Dead wrong dipshits. If anything, those two are eye to eye.

If Tanara wasnt forced to retire, theyf still be fighting by his side.

-----------

Ofc its not all perfect. He still shuts down sometimes. Shuts himself up if he gets scared of offending someone/in general.

If he doesnt get reassurance or proves to himself/his naysayers of his own capabilities, he starts going quiet, smiling less.

Those wounds still hurt, Im afraid....

-----------

And what about after Octo Expansion.

What was going through his mind?

Like....this is your best friend. The one who helped you become the man you are. They were your role model. Theyre so strong, so assured. Confident. Ruthless on the turf. So skilled that nothing can faze them. Believed in you like no one else did.

And youre watching them seem to get worse day by day.

Theyre closing up. Theyre not telling you anything. You reach out but they dismiss you. And their colors only get more desaturated with time. They still believe in you, but its clear that theres something bothering them.

You try to share your joy with them, talking about the things you liked. Like old times. It turns out however, that the character you idolized in the media you consume, is them.

And it explains everything.

An entire secret double life and they didnt tell you.

You were their best friend. They were by your side when you struggled to make it in this city. They gave you assurance when your confidence started to fail.

They were your hero.

Where were you then, when they needed one themself?

They slump into John's arms,,

Theyre only older than him by a year. but they feel so,,

They feel so frail. A shadow of how they used to be. A body broken by war, a mind and heart ravaged by worry and vigilance and the weight of the world on their shoulders.

They tell him that they dont want him to take this load. They tell him he doesnt deserve it.

He says he has no plans of getting into this, not directly. He just wants them to come back to him after duty, or allow him to help in any way he can.

He'll just wait by the door, like he always has.

And hes holding them. He wants to keep them there til everything becomes okay again.

#splatoon #splatoon fanart #agent 3 #captain 3 #john splatoon #kaori splatoon #splatoon promo kids #BC THAT IS THEM TECHNICALLY #opal owl’s nest

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ben-talks-art · 1 day ago

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Why is Desscaras so likable? 🤔

So something has been on my mind for a while now...

There's this series called "Ichi the Witch" that has been growing in popularity lately and among the cast of characters there's Desscaras, a powerful mage who's considered like a superstar among the witches for how good she is at her job, and Desscaras herself is aware of that and always takes as many chances as she can to be smug about it...

But for some reason it never feels annoying when she does it, and I'm very intrigued as to why that is.

Desscaras is basically a fusion of Bulma and Piccolo from Dragon Ball.

Much like Bulma, she's a young and bratty genius who gets stuck with this wild young boy and now has to work with him while going on crazy adventures while doing her best to keep him in check.

But she's also like Piccolo in the sense that she can also be very wise, observant, and calm when the situation calls for it and capable of taking advantage of what she knows and what she can do to come up with different solutions for different problems.

I kept wondering why her smug attitude never annoyed me like it usually tends to when it comes to other "full-of-themselves" types of characters.

Characters like Vegetta or Bakugou who because they're so strong, let it get to their heads and often end up behaving like total jerks in the earlier parts of their story arcs.

I feel like the reason it never bothered me with Desscaras is because, unlike these two, you never get a sense she's trying to prove something.

With Bakugou and Vegetta, you could always tell they were trying to make people understand they were hot stuff, to make it clear that they were the best, to convince others as much as they try to convince themselves to believe in their own hype.

It always had a hint of insecurity as if they needed people to believe in them because deep down, they didn't believe in themselves.

But you don't really get that from Desscaras.

It always felt like she couldn't care less what people think of her. She doesn't need me, you, or anyone to buy into her hype, because she already buys it, and that's all she needs.

The reason her smugness isn't annoying is because you get the sense she's doing it not because she has something to prove but because that's just how she sees herself.

She's likable because you can feel how much she loves herself and who she is...

And in a modern world where everyone is constantly trying to compare themselves to someone else in order to measure how happy or how successful they are, seeing someone who's just already happy with who she is is a very refreshing experience.

I saw some people often comparing her to Gojo, and I can totally see why.

They both are super strong characters who are so comfortably happy with who they are that they allow themselves to act a bit immature and goofy every now and then because they have enough trust in their own character and in their own strength to back it up.

Some sort of... "I'm strong and wise enough to allow myself to be silly" kind of thing if you will.

And that's the key word, "comfortable."

We have several examples of characters who are confident in their own strength, but who you can still feel a sense of pressure from.

Like, they're so strong so they need to set an example, they need to be a role model, they need to make people feel safe, they need to live up to the image that's expected from them.

But Desscaras doesn't care about any of that. She doesn't try to be a role model or anything, she's just living her life the way she's most comfortable with.

The fact that she's one of the strongest doesn't get in the way of how she presents herself to others, her personality does.

The best way I can describe Desscaras is an ideal combination of power + confidence + and comfortableness.

She kinda feels like the perfect embodiment of strength. Characters in stories who are often labeled as "the strongest" or "the most powerful" are often depicted like people who let the power get to their heads and thus end up becoming huge jerks because of it, or they are so confident in their strength that they start to treat things with indifference because they know they can survive anything, or they feel so responsible for the power they carry that they became overly cold and serious about it.

There are several depictions of strength but we don't often get one that manages to balance it out this level of confidence, maturity, and comfort with one self.

You usually tend to feel like one element or two is missing to create something really unique, and Desscaras feels like that something unique where every element is just at the right place.

She feels like a very refreshing take on "The strongest" trope, a comfortable depiction of strength, and I'm excited to see where we go with her. 😊

#ichi the witch #desscaras

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ambigrueity · 1 day ago

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Incredibly long post about Trey and Riddle's Relationship that I vaguely said I'd do in the tags of my posts somewhere

Disclaimer: this is not intended to be shipping in any way I very much view them as family, even more so after these updates. To start with I'm going to separate their relationship into 3 distinct stages and focus on their perceptions of each other at each stage. I think their relationship is wonderfully written As usual, I ramble so sorry in advance, but I really want to analyze how complex they are.

Stage one: Childhood: ||Riddle|| A friend: Trey and Chenya were Riddle's first friends. Riddle had spent his whole life knowing the four walls of his home and his mother and both Trey and Chenya were his gateway to experiencing the world outside his windows. As such, they're immensely valuable to him. Under his mother he had no other way to grow socially, so when provided with a logical reason for going out and playing (Chenya stated his grandpa believed play is a form of study) he jumped at it because he wanted that connection. Trey specifically was his ideal. I think he looked up to him a lot. Normal home life. His mother didn't confine or trap him in any way. And he could eat whatever he liked. That's why when Trey said that one or two slices of tart wouldn't hurt, it was good enough to sway Riddle. All his life he'd grown up hearing about sweets being poison. But Trey seems happy and fulfilled so surely it's not as bad. However, breaking his mother's rule made him lose everything. The momentary friendship he'd built and any chance of freedom. It impressed upon him the importance of following the rules because breaking them lead to loss. And on top of that, it left him with guilt. I talk a lot about Trey's guilt in this situation (and I will talk more) but Riddle has his own guilt too that just manifested in a different way. More on that later.

||Trey|| A brother: While Riddle might have viewed Trey as a friend (no doubt because he was an isolated only child with a different perception and a lot of baggage tied to the world family), Trey saw him as a brother. He expressly states in his dream that Riddle was smart enough to identify plants and flowers and had enough magic control to get their soccer ball out of the trees, and he felt proud to have a smart little brother. And this sort of label is easier for him because he comes from a rather healthy family with siblings and has a blood brother around Riddle's age. Instinctively, Riddle became someone he wanted to care for, spoil, and cherish. That's why after knowing Riddle wanted to try a tart he wanted to let him. Later on, he tries to dismiss or come to terms with his actions in various ways, stating that it was not his place and of course anyone would get upset if their house rules and dietary restrictions weren't being respected. He tries to make it out into a joke, saying it's become a family incident of sorts that they just laugh about. "Who gets that mad at children playing." But underneath all those attempts to bury his own trauma, lies guilt. Because he feels, deep down, that as a brother he should have protected Riddle better. And instead, after just 2 months, he had to see everything that made Riddle happy stripped away again. More on this later. Stage 2: Riddle's First Year

||Riddle|| A stranger. Riddle's changed. He's developed some of his mother's anger. He's been confined for years. And because of that one incident with the tart, he firmly believes that growth and by extension fulfillment can only happen under the rules. Moreover, since Trey represents that period of his life where he learned that lesson rather harshly, he ices Trey out, pretending he barely knows him. After all, they might as well be strangers after all these years. Especially since Trey is banned from his house. This is a result of the guilt I mentioned earlier. He failed to follow his mother's rules and the punishment put Trey and his peaceful family that he looked up to in the crossfire. I think a part of him doesn't know how to face Trey after all that, worried that he might hate him. However, he cannot fully erase his own memories. So it is Trey he consults when he asks how to challenge a dorm leader for the seat. Even if he's distancing himself by calling him "Clover-senpai" Trey still remains someone he trusts to a degree. After Riddle takes the throne he makes a decision I find interesting. He doesn't select a vice, instead he leaves it to the popular vote. This could be read two ways IMO. Either, he didn't feel the need to have a vice because he was so confident in his own skills, but was aware that it was customary to have one so it didn't matter to him who it was. Or, deep down, he was afraid that no one would be willing to work with him. After seeing his dream, I do think it might be the latter. All of the darkness versions of his card soldiers showed some form of disloyalty. Willing to go along with the idea that they might jump ship, or that Riddle could be overpowered. It's this insecurity born from his own fear of his mother. He knows he's become a reflection of her, and he's worried how other people might react to it. In the end, he's still chasing those relationships from childhood, but is stuck believing that rules are the only way to keep what little happiness he has which alienates him from Trey to a degree. ||Trey|| A brother still: Despite the years, Trey's feelings about Riddle hadn't changed much other than being swamped with underlying guilt. Upon realizing that Riddle was going to attend NRC, his first instinct was to create a space for him. Trey generally, is introverted but excited to see his childhood friend again, he ends up talking to the people around him saying that Riddle was a quiet but studious boy and he hopes that people will welcome him. That was at least, before he saw what Riddle had become (he ended up fighting Floyd at the entrance ceremony) leaving Trey with the realization that this was not the boy he knew anymore. And worse, he was pretending not to know him. I'm sure it hurt, but even so, when RIddle asked about dueling the housewarden, he did try to accommodate him (after getting over his initial shock). The thing that gets me the most, however, is that Trey still saw the good in him. Trey in the rose maze part of Riddle's dream tells Ortho that the first thing Riddle did when he became housewarden was tend to the roses. To him that was a sign that Riddle was still somewhere in there and he was willing to support that. He would have been resigned to accepting that he was a stranger to Riddle if he hadn't been elected vice, but regardless of how Riddle felt, Trey still felt responsible for him. Both out of guilt and because he was still family.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #trey clover #twst trey #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #im sorry this is so long #but i can't help it they mean the world to me #trey who values family so much and riddle who doesn't know what family is outside of the rigid structure he's known #trying to understand each other because they're so caught up in their own perspectives of what happened #they were just children #it just makes me cry #heartslabyul #is family #no one can ever change my mind after this #especially since trey outright called riddle his littler brother #i smacked my head into my keyboard when i heard it #even better he uses present continuous #basically saying i still think of him as my brother #wow twst #fucking gut punch #okay #also tell me why i relate to both of them this is fuckign me up #the moral of this story is i think we should revoke mama rosehearts license #not kill her bc riddle would be sad but like #she was basically using her child as an experiment #i demand karmic retribution #you fucked up not only ur own kid's life but also an entirely different kid's life

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sageandred · 2 days ago

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A Long Examination on The Progression of Min Ho's Feelings for Kitty:

This is a bunch of scattered thoughts I've had over time that all apply to the main topic. The progression of Min Ho's feelings are as follows: thinking he thinks he hates her -> dreaming about her -> she becomes his world the most significant person to him in the room and subsequently he falls in love with her leading up to the plane.

I need to talk about his feelings leading up to The Dream. When Min Ho first had his dream back in season one, it came as an utter shock to him, much like Kitty's, but the points that they are at in their relationship are very different; Kitty already saw him as a friend, but he didn't see or wouldn't admit that when he had his dream. The arrival of Kitty's dream goes back to that post analysis on how her feelings progress in emotional bonds and are generally prompted by friendship with a person, through knowing them to some extent and quality time for it to grow...while for Min Ho it's a turning point of realizing his attraction. Min Ho upon meeting her was convinced he hated her. He needed the signs he wouldn't acknowledge to the true direction of Kitty; it's the same with how Kitty was in denial about her feelings for him, but she already viewed him as a friend by the time her dream shocked her. Before Min Ho's dream, he quote, "found her annoying," but that is the very thing that initially drew him to Kitty even in moments he'd think there was any possibility (to his actions showing it) but. His reasoning for his dislike of Stella early into the season solidifies exactly what he appreciates about Kitty; "She's too nice," he says about Stella, but what is the subconsciousness of that statement is she doesn't challenge him. Also, like Kitty finds connection in emotional ties and deep feeling, Min Ho's dream, too, comes after he and Kitty bond for the first time over something vulnerable during Chuseok (both cooking (sharing their thoughts on their moms) and her extending her assistance by the bushes, which placed him in an embarrassing mishap/failure re:his date); they had these moments of seeing each other in a different light. It was a point of leading him in the right direction that, 'hey, this could be something that I never realized!'...even subconsciously.

However Min Ho actually was beginning to fall pretty instantly. Was it him bumping into her at the beginning of year party coupled with her eager spirit and ability to fight back in a verbal battle? Was it her fighting back in class and airing out his nickname without a second of hesitancy? What did it? These are all things that fall in line with her challenging him. We see more in season 2, she causes him to think differently and they have opposite thinking that lends to them helping each other in times of distress, which can grow to similar thinking patterns that ultimately helps them grow in the long run.

Following his dream, the episode 6 journey of him going from denial to acceptance was the beginning point of recognizing the inability to avoid his feelings for her, even if he wasn't ready to accept that yet (I don't think he recognized that he was unable to avoid his feelings for her or that he consciously accepted his feelings atp, but it's an unprompted moment where he's lacking control, and definitely for us as the audience to take note of for where his feelings lie). Yet, when he sees her doing 'nothing special', but talking to Dae (when he's watching her while she's completely unaware anyone is watching her & being her natural self in slow motion), it's special to him and the start of this "love of a lifetime," peaceful type of love where you can find adoration in the mundane, simple observations of just "seeing" the other person (for the real them).

#xo kitty #mooncovey #min ho moon #min ho x kitty #kitty x min ho

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francisofthespook · 2 days ago

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A/N: if you say my little 3am rant, no you didnt. But heres a little one shot thing i wrote last night when i couldnt sleep. I literally wrote this on my phone in my tumblr drafts at 5am and barely edited it so just bear with me okay... This so so stupidly self indulgent idk if this will even interest anyone, but writing it made me feel a little better :'') Would this count as hurt/comfort ? Idk

AUDaryl Dixon x F!Reader

Word count: 1928

Warnings: None fr, just smoking

Setting: AU where walkers never happened and you are Daryl's Neighbor (This isnt the one I had talked about in the tag game). I imagine this with like season 5 ish Daryl.

I made the border :)

“What are ya doin’?”

Daryl walked up to the waist-high chain link fence that separated your yards, leaning on it. You sighed heavily, avoiding his eyes as you ashed your cigarette on the ground.

“What’s it look like.”

You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the weight of everything that had been plaguing you the past week didn’t leave you any stamina for pleasantries.

“Woah, okay.”

He held up his hands defensively with a small laugh. Neither of you spoke. He was waiting for you to continue, you were waiting for him to leave.

Daryl stared off in the distance at some dead tree in the back corner of your yard. He knew you, knew you would say something eventually. But you didn’t. He was starting to get a little concerned. In all the years he had been your neighbor, your friend, he had never seen you this quiet.

Usually you loved talking shit with him. Telling him about every little inconvenience that happened that day while you smoked your respective cigarettes. Him, drinking in every little thing that you said, and you, talking endlessly for hours until your boyfriend came home and Daryl would quickly hop the fence and retreat into his house.

“(Y/N), what’s goin’ on?”

He said in a more serious tone, trying to mask the concern that was growing within him. His grip slightly tightened on the fence and the wires dug into his palms as they began to sweat, the Georgia sun beating down hard on his exposed shoulders. “Ya know ya can tell me anythin’.”

“Leave me alone.”

You still wouldn’t face him. He could see your body tensing every time you were reminded of his presence. He could tell you were trying to hold it together, purposely hiding as much of yourself as possible from him. It only made his anxiety grow.

Daryl cared about you more than he’d like to admit. When you and your boyfriend first moved into the shitty house next to his even shittier one, he was pissed, already mourning the privacy his tucked away home gave him. But he was wrong.

It couldn’t have been more the opposite. Your boyfriend was gone nearly all the time, and you were taking classes at the local community college so it stayed pretty quiet. But every evening, after you came home, you would sit on your little patio and smoke for a while until your boyfriend came home, (usually at an unreasonable hour, drunk, and stumbling straight to bed).

Over time, yours and Daryl’s ‘smoke breaks’ started to line up. And it totally didn’t have anything to do with Daryl thinking you were pretty and wanting to eye you as he had his evening cigarette.

It started with just you and him on your respective patios, smoking and not acknowledging the other's presence. But one day, you spoke up. You had asked him for a light, and he wordlessly sauntered over to the fence and held the flame to you as you leaned over to light your cigarette. From then, it escalated.

It was almost routine now, that Daryl would be outside already having a smoke when you got home and finally made your way out. Once he saw you, he would walk over and hop the short fence, and you two would sit together while he listened to you talk about your day. He rarely spoke about his own, he much preferred your dramatizations of shitty encounters with your professors, or run-ins with ex-friends. He secretly looked forward to it every day.

But now you were quiet, and that scared him. Quiet was not a word he would use to describe you.

“Seriously (Y/N), what’s wro-“

“Daryl, fuck off!”

You finally turned to face him, and he almost wished you hadn’t. Black streaks ran down your face from the mascara that had run, dried, and then run again. Your eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, your lips slightly swollen from crying so hard.

The sight of you caused an ache in his heart that hurt so deep, that he had to stop himself from instinctively placing his hand on his chest to check that a hole hadn’t been drilled through it. Without hesitation, he hopped the fence and rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you as you covered your face with your hands.

Smoke curled upwards from the still-lit cigarette between your fingers, and a small tuft of ash fell onto your jeans. He wanted to reach out and touch you, place a hand on your knee, and rub small, soothing circles with his thumb, but he knew he shouldn’t. There was an unspoken line between you two that he never dared cross, no matter how badly he yearned to. But for the first time, he seriously considered it.

“Please, jus’ talk to me.”

He pleaded, his brows furrowed with worry as he looked up at your still hidden face. His hand flinched, he wanted nothing more than to pull you into a tight hug and tell you everything would be okay. He would burn down the whole world for you if he thought it’d make you feel better.

“It’s stupid.”

You said, your hands muffling the words to where he almost couldn’t make out what you were saying.

“It obviously ain’t that stupid if it’s upset ya this badly.”

He spoke in the most gentle voice he could muster.

You slowly brought your hands down, dropping the cigarette onto the concrete and putting it out with your shoe. You still didn’t lift your head, still couldn’t bear to make eye contact with him. You were ashamed of your state, wondering why you even came out here in the first place, knowing he would be out here too.

“Please, yer freakin’ me out”

His voice slightly cracked, and it made your already broken heart crack even more. Daryl was your best friend, kinda your only friend. But you didn’t feel like talking. The hurt you felt encapsulated your entire soul, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to put into words the pain you felt right now, didn’t even want to try.

Slowly, cautiously, you tilted your head up, making eye contact with him for the first time today. The worry that painted his face made you ache. You felt like you didn’t deserve his worry, that he didn’t deserve to have his emotions negatively altered by you. You already felt like such a burden to everyone around you, Daryl was the last person you’d ever want to add to that list. He deserved to be happy, not on his knees in a dither about you.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” You mumbled.

Daryl knew that whatever it was that had caused you this much turmoil must have been bad. And as much as he wanted you to divulge every little detail so that he knew who or what to take it up with, he respected your boundaries and nodded.

“Tha’s ok. But please, jus’ let me be here fer ya.”

You stared into his deep blue eyes, your own glassing up again, and nodded.

“Okay.”

He gently patted your knee twice, a safe contact, before standing up and dragging a chair close to yours. Pulling his pack from his chest pocket, he brought a cigarette to his mouth and motioned for you to pass him the lighter.

You flicked the metal wheel and held the flame over to him, cupping it so that it wouldn’t go out. He took a deep breath in as the end of the stick cherried, and leaned back in his chair.

“Went to the shop today to get those brake pads I ordered, they were s’possed to be ready today. I get in there and the damn fool at the counter told me they’d been back ordered fer another month!”

You looked over, slightly surprised to hear Daryl talking as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just seen you at your lowest state. He stared off at the tree line as he continued.

“Then, when I’m on my way home, I get pulled over fer not ‘stoppin’ all the way’ at a stop sign”

His smoke brushed past you as he raised his hand to make air quotes. You realized, that he was trying to distract you by sharing details about his day. You could feel the warmth in your heart ever so slightly starting to fuse just the tiniest cracks.

You held your hand up to cover your mouth as you bit back the smallest laugh.

He grunted, “An’ then I get home and see that Dog took a big ol’ shit on the couch.”

He rolled his eyes and laughed. As much as he normally disliked talking about himself, he would do it until the sun burnt out just to see the small smile that was starting to form on your face.

He went on for a little while, talking about everything from his favorite shirt ripping last week, to the time he and Merle supposedly saw a ‘chupacabra’.

By the time you heard the car pull into the driveway, you had almost forgotten about your own shitty day. Almost.

Daryl took the sound of your garage opening as his cue to head home. He stood up and stretched a little before turning to start walking back.

“Daryl-“

You called out before he reached the fence. He turned his head to look over at you.

“Thank you.”

He gave you a smile smile and a nod before saying, “Anytime. Hate seein’ ya so upset.”

The sun had long set, and you hoped that your dim porch light was dull enough to conceal the blush on your cheeks.

“See you tomorrow?”

You asked, a small part of you worried that he wouldn’t want to hang out with you anymore after seeing how pathetic you were today.

“‘Course”

He gave you one last smile before grabbing the fence and hoisting himself over it. You stood up as you heard the garage door open and close as your boyfriend made his way through the house.

Later that night, as you lay in bed, you thought about what it would be like if Daryl were lying next to you instead of this cold man who barely even spoke to you anymore. You thought about what it would feel like to be held again as you fell asleep, something long disregarded with your current partner.

You felt a small ache for a version of yourself that was living next door with Daryl. Cooking breakfast for him while wearing only his shirt, curling up on the couch with him in the evenings as you watched some dumb rom-com, riding on the back of his bike as he swerved through Atlanta streets late at night.

You were jealous of that version of you, the one that said ‘fuck it’ to everything shitty in her life and exchanging it for a better one, with him.

But you weren’t that girl. You weren’t strong enough to do what it takes to be her yet. But the hope that maybe one day, you could be, was what finally helped you drift off to sleep that night. And maybe if you had known that just a few yards away, Daryl was dreaming about the same thing, it would have given you the confidence you needed to become that girl.

But for tonight, you laid an arms length away from a man you barely recognized anymore and hoped that tomorrow would be better.

lmk what yall think, love you guys <3333

#daryl dixon #daryl posting #twd daryl #daryl #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x f!reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon au

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bunny-jpeg · 41 minutes ago

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sinful sentences (thirteen)

jenson button - "I want to make you mine."

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/45), flirty!reader, unprotected sex & baby trapping, doggy style, jenson is smitten (read: unhinged), dark-ish themes

sinful sentences catalogue

you were a flirt, that was what you were good at. flash a pretty smile, wear a low-cut top and any man would happily give over some cash. flutter your eyelashes and give them a sweet laugh at their corny jokes, and the bills grew in value.

jenson was smitten, needy for your attention. he loved how you felt in his hands, how his lips felt against yours. and when he was lucky, his cock snug inside of your achy, soaked cunt. maybe it was time getting to him and missing so-called glory days. but he liked the little flirt he often saw at the bar, and he liked taking you home.

but he believed that you could do a hell of a lot better than the bar you frequented. someone quiet, secluded, with an apron around your waist, dinner on the table and his child growing in your belly.

"hey, beautiful." he purred as he draped an arm around you, "look a little lonely tonight." his lips grazed your jaw, "sad that no one's giving you attention, tinkerbell?"

"shut up." you replied and when you looked at him. when your gaze met his, he pulled you in for a heated kiss. that shut you up quite quickly. you hated it, he had this way with you that made your core simmer.

"i want to make you mine." he said, "tonight."

"i could never be yours, jenson. don't be stupid." you laughed.

there was a reason why all the men got to look but not touch, but jenson often got handfuls of your flesh and his cock buried inside of you. when he pulled away from the kiss, he smiled at you, " are you done, tinkerbell? gonna be good for me?" he leaned in, "because my wallet is feeling a little heavy, and i think you could lighten the load."

and then like a lamb you tucked yourself closer to him. you knew you were a slut for his attention, he was older, wiser, wealthier. he knew what he could get from you and it made you aroused. it didn't hurt that his cock was rather big and he knew exactly how to use it.

"when have i ever been good for you?" you asked playfully.

jenson chuckled lowly, "that's what i like to hear. causing my problems, making me watch you be a total fucking flirt. but you always come back to me." he kissed your cheek.

"are you going to give me what i want?" you asked softly as you played with the top button of the light blue shirt he wore. you then spread your hand across his chest, "please?"

jenson's smile grew, "of course, honey. i'll always give you what you want. but, you have to be a good girl for me. so put away the teeth, angel, and let's have some fun tonight."

you ended up back at his home, the expensive kind of apartment with a price tag that made most raise their eyebrows. he had the money so why not spend it.

he was quick to undress you, and while the couch was closer he did have the capacity to be a gentleman and guided you to the bedroom. your clothes remained in a pile on the floor in the living room as he shepred you into the bedroom. then, when you got through the door he got you up in his arms and onto the bed.

"hands and knees, beautiful."

"are you going to use a condom?"

jenson flashed that winner's smile, "of course, tinkerbell. gotta play it safe for you, right?" the plan was turning in his head. easy to lie with your face in the covers. he patted your cheek and leaned in to kiss you on the lips. you tasted like cranberry juice and vodka, and he tasted like rum and coke.

his other hand on your thigh as he held you. his cock stirred in his jeans at the taste of you against him. you felt like something else, you could scam your way into some cash with just a few smiles. but jenson was greedy.

"hands and knees, beautiful. i want to see that pretty pussy and that lovely ass of yours." he chuckled before he pulled away and you got on your chest and knees with your ass in the air. perfect for him.

jenson played with your pussy as he got undressed, he dragged his fingers across it. played with your clit and even sank his digits into you. he felt the tight wet heat and he wondered how many men ran through you before. but, that didn't matter now. not when he had you in his metaphorical jaws.

it'll be the only cock you needed now, jenson would take care of his wife. there wasn't even a question if you would be his wife or not. he knew you'd walk down that aisle. he wasn't raising his baby without a ring on your finger.

you held onto the pillow under your head and heard him move around once he was undressed. you looked over and saw him get a condom out a desk drawer and you exhaled a sigh of relief. he smiled wickedly when you put your face back into the pillows.

when you weren't looking at him, the unused condom was dumped in the waste bin. he said as he approached you, his heavy cock bobbed as he got up behind you on the bed. he admired the glossiness of your cunt and licked his lips.

all for him, only for him.

he sank into you, no protection keeping that pretty pussy of yours safe. no, tonight you were going to take jenson raw. the thought excited him as he shifted his knees on the bed to get a better angle to fuck you. he pressed you at the middle of your shoulders, pushing you further into the bed with your pretty ass up against his hips. you felt amazing, the tight heat of your cunt wrapped up around him.

jenson button was one lucky bastard tonight.

he rocked up into you. his movements started off slow yet powerful. he moved up against you, both hands at your hips. he used it as leverage to move against you. it felt amazing, your cunt held onto him tightly.

like your body knew it wanted to get pregnant. and who was jenson to deny a beautiful woman what she so desired. your words said one thing and your body said another.

"fuck, jenson." you shuddered as the thrusts grew. his pace had his cock pressed up into your deepest parts. it made you panting against covers as he fucked you further into them. your breathing was heavier as you cunt fluttered around him.

the pleasure clouded your mind, all rationale was out the window. you didn't even question him that he actually put the condom on. your brain was flooded with the intense heat of pleasure. you gasped into the covers as the pleasure grew in your core.

there was something thumping in your soul from his movements and your core swam with a yearning for him. the way he fucked you, even when it was rough, quick sex. there was something about it that made your head swim with lust.

damn jenson button for knowing exactly how to get you going, how to pull orgasms out of you like a rabbit from a hat.

"you feel like heaven, honey. my little fucking tinkerbell with your fairy wings that i wanna pluck from you." he wrapped his arms around you and battered his cock into you. this pace quickened and you felt your foundation shake. his words were filthy and it lit a fire in your belly.

he continued to fuck you. he pressed his weight further down on you and made you squirm when his pace became brutal. he knew exactly how to keep you under him. you thought you were getting a nice payday from this, but you were going to walk a way with a bit more than some fresh euros stuffed in your purse.

more like his cum stuffed into your slick pussy, right where it belonged. don't worry, after you have his first kid he'll let out have a break, but he hoped within a decade you two will have three little button kids running around. of course he'll buy a nice house for your little growing family. but tonight, the logistics weren't important, tonight he was on a mission.

get his little tinkerbell, the girl desperate for male attention, nice and pregnant with his kid. then everything else will fall into place. his movements quickened till he was fucking you right into the mattress. his breathing was heavy and his body tense as he fucked you.

the bed creaked a little as you panted heavily into the covers. you whined, "fuck, jenson! i'm close!" then arched your back quite a bit as you felt climax begin to take its hold on you.

"that's it, beautiful. let it out for me. good girl, good girl." he cooed lowly and it made you head swim with heated want as you felt the throb in your body of climax. jenson knew your body better than you knew it yourself.

jenson kept up his pace. he fucked you with a simmering heat. he didn't last much longer, he couldn't have. he could feel the pleasure in his gut as soon finished inside of you. as climax hit, he shoved his entire length into you. made sure that the tip of his cock became familiar with the base of your cervix. they'd become quite acquainted over the next few months.

"fuck, jenson." you gasped as his pace slowed down and he gave you a playful smack on the behind.

"better than the rest, huh?" he said as he leaned over you, kept his softening cock inside of you for a moment. he kissed the shell of your ear and felt your tremble.

in a moment of post-orgasm weakness you croaked, "yes." and jenson felt nothing but a sense of pride that tonight he got you pregnant.

large hand on a swollen belly. been a whine since you've been at the bar and it's been only a few weeks since you became jenson button's wife. no late nights seeking the flirty attention of men older than you.

one of them finally got you tied down and in a few months you were going to be the mother to his child. his hands were still greedy for the softness of your hips, his tongue still wanted to explore your mouth. now he could whenever he wanted.

his hand grazed your middle, he loved the feeling of it. you looked so good. looked proper even when you struggled a little to get off the couch. you carried the baby well, even if it made you rely on jenson a little more (not that he was complaining)

you still don't know how it happened, but jenson simply shrugged and said, "miracles happen every day. and this one is ours." shutting down any questions about misuse of protection. all it took was one night and one little lie, and now jenson button clipped the wings of his little tinkerbell. <3

#bunny writes #sinful sentences #jenson button x you #jenson button x reader #jenson button smut #jenson button #reader insert #formula one smut #formula one imagine #formula 1 #formula one fanfiction #f1 smut #f1 x reader #formula one #jb22 x reader #jb22 #jb22 smut

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msklassickilla · 11 hours ago

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Prada You Chapter 22

Summary:

In the summer of 1998, sparks fly between Nyeya and Jey.

Nyeya is an 18-year-old around the way girl. Jey is older, paid, and fine. He is also the leader of the infamous Prada Bois alongside his twin brother Jimmy. The two have chemistry. However, Nyeya has plans outside of her attraction. With a birthday around the corner and dreams of living a good life, Nyeya sets her sights on enjoying the perks of Jey's money and hood celebrity.

But baby girl has no clue what it takes to really be down. Nyeya is about to learn some hard life lessons at the expense of her 'Prada' priced dreams.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Nyeya (Nye) Green (OC)

Author’s Note: This story is happening in an alternative universe. It features the current and original Bloodline members along with other WWE stars. So, the characters are themselves, but some things are switched around for the stories sake. This was originally written with all original characters, but I think it could work better this way. Hope you guys enjoy it and I actually finish it...

Warning: Please be advised that this chapter contains harsh/foul language, mentions of murder, age gap relationships, underage drinking, and mentions of roughness.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Chapter 22: Redemption

August 17th 1998

The house was still, the only sound being the steady drip of water as I lay in the bathtub, sinking deeper into the warmth. I needed this. Needed a moment where my thoughts weren’t drowning me. The steam curled around my face, but it did nothing to clear my mind.

Jey wanted me to move in with him. Jey expected me to move in with him. That was the problem. He didn’t ask. He decided. And I knew better than to think I had much of a choice. But did I really want this?

Damian’s warning was still ringing in my ears, his voice low, dark, edged with something I couldn’t place.

“You need to get out while you still can before you end up in too deep. Unable to walk away.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and forced the thought away. I wasn’t leaving Jey. I loved him. We belonged together. That was the truth. Wasn’t it? Deep down I knew no matter what the truth was, Jey wasn’t letting me leave.

The bath was growing cold when I finally stepped out, wrapping myself in a towel. I dried off quickly, slipping into a pair of shorts and a tank top before crawling into bed. Maybe sleep would silence the war in my head.

Then—

A round of knocks came.

From the front door. My breath stalled. Nobody knocked on our door this late unless it was bad news. Mama was at work. Michael was spending the night with one of his friends. For a second, I didn’t move. My heart slammed against my ribs as I slowly pushed back my covers, creeping toward the door. I didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to see who it was. But I forced myself to.

And when I did, my stomach dropped. Damian. His broad frame filled my doorway, and under the dim glow of the porch light, I saw it—blood. So much blood.

I yanked the door open, yanking him inside before anybody saw him. “Damian, what the hell? Why are you covered in blood?”

His chest rose and fell, his jaw tight as he looked down at himself. His white tee was soaked in red, streaks of it smeared along his arms and hands.

I slammed the door shut behind him. “Whose blood is that? Are you hurt?”

My eyes roamed for his head to his feet trying to understand what I was seeing.

His eyes lifted to mine, dark and unreadable. “It’s not mine, Nyeya.”

A lump formed in my throat. “Then whose is it?”

Damian exhaled through his nose, his fingers flexing at his sides. “The dude who put his hands on you. The one who pushed you down at the lounge.”

My body went cold. “What? Did you kill him?”

What he was saying wasn’t registering at the moment. Dude was dead and Damian most likely did it. I shook my head trying to come to terms with that.

“I couldn’t let that slide,” he said simply. “He couldn’t live after that..”

The room tilted for a second. I gripped the wall, my head spinning. I knew that’s what happened in the streets but this was different. Damian had killed for me. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. He did something for me I didn’t ask for, something that couldn't be undone.

But I didn’t feel scared. I should’ve. Instead, I felt something else. Something dangerous. Something I wouldn’t acknowledge.

Instead of telling him to leave, instead of screaming, instead of doing what I knew I should’ve done—I asked, “What do you need me to do?”

He had come here for a reason so any help I could offer was the least I could do.

Damian’s eyes flickered. “ A shower, mami. I gotta wash this off. I can’t drive around like this. I have a change of clothes in the car.”

A lump formed in my throat. “Jey—”

What the hell would Jey think about this? I froze. My thoughts sat on my tongue as I was afraid to say what I knew was true.

“He wouldn’t want me here,” Damian finished. “I know. He won’t know though. This stays between me and you.”

We stared at each other, a thick silence stretching between us. I hated that I wasn’t telling him to go. Hated that I was letting him in. But I couldn’t send him back into the night like this. I wouldn’t let Jey drive through the city like that either.

Wordlessly, I motioned for him to follow me. I led him down the hall, my legs weak beneath me. When we reached my room, I went straight to the bathroom, twisting the shower knob until steam filled the space. I placed clean towels on the sink's countertop.

I turned back just in time to see Damian already pulling his shirt over his head.

I spun around. “Damn, you can’t do that in the bathroom?”

A quiet chuckle left him. “My bad but it ain’t like you ain’t seen it before.”

Now was not the time for this. I rolled my eyes, ignoring the comment. “Where are your keys? I’ll go grab your bag.”

Damian dug into his pocket and tossed them on the bed. Without another word, I slipped out of the room, my nerves burning. What the hell was I doing?

Outside, I moved quickly, popping the trunk and grabbing his backpack. My eyes darted around; paranoid someone would see me near his car. I silently prayed nobody saw anything.

When I got back inside, I hesitated before pushing my bedroom door open. Damian was sitting on my bed, damp from the shower, wearing only a towel around his waist. I gulped as my eyes raked over the tattoos that covered his upper body.

Heat filled my cheeks as I shoved the backpack at him. “Here. Get dressed.”

Damian smirked but said nothing, disappearing back into the bathroom. I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my temples. If Jey ever found out about this… No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. I needed no more shit popping off before my party.

Damian returned fully dressed. An awkward silence settled between us, thick and suffocating. I was the first to break it. “T-Thank you. You didn’t have to do what you did. When I put my hands on him, I accepted the consequences that would come.”

Damian stepped closer, slow and deliberate. “If I didn’t, Jey would have.”

I stiffened. “What?”

“Yea, he had plans to do it himself. But he already got heat on him. I took care of it so he wouldn’t have to,” he paused, his eyes saying something he refused to say aloud. “He gotta be there for your party, right?”

I inhaled sharply, my pulse thundering. What I was feeling from his admission left me speechless.

Damian stepped in front of me, his fingers grazing my chin, tilting it up so I had no choice but to look at him. “I did it for you too, you know. Nobody will harm you if I can stop it, mami.”

My breath hitched. A strange feeling blossomed in my belly as we stared into each other’s eyes.

He didn’t give me time to respond. He bent down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to my forehead before pulling back. “I gotta go. I appreciate you, Nye.”

I swallowed; my voice small. “You need anything else before you go?”

Damian’s gaze darkened, his lips parting slightly before he exhaled sharply. His voice was low, almost painful. “You. But Jey already got you.”

My heart cracked open. Something broke inside me. Before I could say anything, before I could let the weight of his words settle between us, Damian made his way down the hall and slipped out the front door, disappearing into the night.

I locked the door behind him and collapsed onto the floor, my back against the wood. For the first time in a long time, I let the tears spill over. Because I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. And that was dangerous place to be.

---

August 20th 1998

It was Thursday night, and the soft hum of the fan and the radio fill the room as I took my braids down. The strands of my hair felt lighter without the extra weight, but my thoughts felt heavier. The cell phone Jey gave me started to ring. The vibration rattled against the wooden nightstand, my stomach twisting at the name flashing on the screen.

Jey.

I hesitated before answering. "Yeah?"

Jey had been calling like normal, but I was still on edge. Dread lingered as I didn’t know if one day he would call after someone told them they saw Damian here. I still felt like he had somebody watching me even though I couldn’t prove it.

His voice was smooth, low. "Meet me downstairs in an hour."

I swallowed. "Alright."

The line went dead. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, gripping my knees to keep from falling apart. Does he know?

My mind raced back to Monday night. To Damian standing in my doorway, his white shirt soaked in blood. To the way he kissed my forehead, the way his words still lingered too close to my heart. I push the memory down, forcing myself to move through the motions.

I washed my hair, blow dried it, and styled it into a sleek low bun, the familiar routine kept my hands from shaking. The hour crawled by slower than ever, every second stretching into something unbearable. Then the phone vibrated again. Jey calling back to tell me he was outside.

---

The summer air was thick with humidity as I stepped outside, spotting his car parked at the curb. The headlights cut through the darkness, the faint sound of an R&B song drifting through the open windows.

Jey popped the passenger door open for me, watching as I slid in. The second the door shut he leaned in, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against my lips. His touch lingered, his grip firm, as if searching for something in me.

I tried not to flinch, wondering what he knew that I didn’t. I couldn’t take him going off on me again unexpectedly. When he pulled back, he looked me in the eyes, his gaze unreadable. For a while, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the soft croon of 112’s "Cupid" playing in the background.

Jey reached into the center console, pulling out a blunt. He lit it, inhaling slow, before blowing the smoke toward the cracked window. Something in me wanted me to open my mouth, confess, ready to take whatever consequences came with it because he was taking too long to get to the point of this late-night pop-up. But Jey eventually started talking.

"Damian told me what you did for him the other night."

My heart stopped. Everything inside me went still. I stared at him, my stomach twisting so tight I thought I might be sick. Damian said he wouldn’t tell. He said it would stay between us.

My throat burned. "Jey, I—"

"Nah." Jey cut in, taking another slow pull before passing me the blunt. His voice was calm. Too calm. "You did good."

My breath hitched in my lungs. "What?"

He had flipped the script on me. I had not been expecting that kind of response.

Jey smirked, his dark eyes flashing with something menacing. "You held it down. I’m proud of you for sticking to the code."

I grip the blunt tighter, my pulse thundering. "Wait. You not mad?"

Jey exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Nah, Damian told me everything. I get it. He’s my brother, I know he wouldn’t cross no boundaries. I trust him."

My stomach flopped. Damian hadn’t told him everything though. Just about Monday. Jey still didn’t know about the past. And for that I was thankful. But why did Damian change his mind? Did he feel guilty? Was this his way of protecting me? Protecting himself?

I took a slow pull from the blunt, needing something to steady myself.

Jey watched me, his fingers lightly grazing my knee. "We throwing a kickback for Damian on Saturday. Just something small to show love for what he did for Prada. And I want you there, right by my side."

I nodded before I even processed what I was agreeing to.

Jey’s voice was softer when he spoke again. "We celebrating you too, you know."

I blinked. "Why?"

He smirked, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "For you being down for the cause. Holding me down. Holding my brothers down. Proving you built for this life."

My mouth went dry. I wasn’t built for this. I was just surviving ‘cause it seemed like I had no other options other than to get with it or get run over. Jey reached for me, his fingers curling around the side of my neck, tilting my chin up so I had no choice but to look at him.

"I’m really proud of you, baby." His grip tightened slightly. "But don’t do it again."

The warmth from his palm contrasted with the cold warning in his voice. A shiver ran down my spine.

"Next time, it won’t be a celebration." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing mine. "It’ll be a problem, you hear me."

My throat was too tight to swallow. I nodded, because what else could I do? I let him kiss me, let him mark me with his approval, let his hand linger around my neck like a silent reminder of who I belonged to.

When he finally pulled away, he grinned like everything was fine, like he hadn’t just issued a threat wrapped in praise.

"Go inside. Get some rest. I’ll call you tomorrow."

I nodded, slipping out of the car, my legs feeling like jelly as I walked up the steps. When I finally made it to my room, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. The radio softly played in the background. Mary J. Blige’s "Not Gon’ Cry."

I swallow, sliding down the side of my bed as the lyrics wrapped around me.

"Well, I'm not gon' cry... I'm not gon' cry... I'm not gon' shed no tears..."

Tears blurred my vision anyway. Because I knew better. I knew I was gonna cry. I knew that no matter how much I told myself otherwise…

---

August 21st 1998

The Friday sun hung low in the sky as I followed Kiyah, Nataya, and Natasha into a high-end dress shop downtown. The place smelled like fresh fabric and expensive perfume, racks of shimmering gowns lining the walls like a promise of something magical. The girls were buzzing with excitement, their energy infectious as they flipped through the racks, holding up dresses and twirling in front of the mirrors.

The twins seemed to have patched things up since last Saturday when Natasha found out about Nataya’s pregnancy. They moved like they had before—whispering, laughing, finishing each other’s sentences. Kiyah was in full party mode, pulling dresses off hangers and holding them up against her body with a smirk.

I tried to match their energy, but I felt like I was moving through mud.

Sixteen days.

Sixteen days until my party. Sixteen days until Jey’s carefully curated event, the one he had planned to the smallest detail. A nightclub rented, the Prada Bois all set to be there, an entire night dedicated to celebrating me—Jey’s girl. His Prada Girl.

And yet, standing in the middle of the shop, surrounded by glittering gowns and my friends’ laughter, all I could think about was how life was a trip.

I ran my hands over the delicate fabric of a dress, barely seeing it. My chest felt tight, like something was pressing against it, suffocating me.

"Alright, girl," Kiyah said, tossing a slinky black dress over her arm before turning toward me. "What’s up with you? You been moping since we got in here."

My head snapped up. "I ain’t moping," I said, forcing a small smile.

"Yes, you are," Natasha added, giving me a knowing look. "You’re usually all over this kinda thing, but today, you look like somebody just snatched your puppy."

Nataya studied me quietly, her brows pulling together. "Something on your mind?"

I hesitated, my eyes darting between them. I had been holding so much in—too much. My secrets were piling up like bricks in my chest, threatening to collapse at any moment. I wasn’t sure where to start or if I should even say anything.

The girls already knew Jey could be intense, overbearing. They understood the Prada Bois and the world that came with them, but still, what I had been keeping inside felt bigger than all of us.

Kiyah arched an eyebrow, waiting.

I inhaled slowly, my fingers tightening around the fabric in my hands. "Damian handled that dude from the lounge that put his hands on me," I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

The weight of those words settled over us like a storm cloud.

Nataya’s face darkened. "What do you mean ‘handled’?" she asked, even though she already knew.

I exhaled. "He’s dead."

Kiyah muttered something under her breath, shaking her head. Natasha, however, just shrugged. "That’s what they do," she said simply.

Nataya turned to her twin, eyes wide. "So, they just… kill people they don’t like?"

"Basically," Natasha said, her tone unreadable.

The store felt too bright, too polished, for the kind of conversation we were having. I felt out of place standing there in the midst of satin and sequins, talking about death like it was just another part of life.

I licked my lips, suddenly feeling the urge to tell them everything. "That ain’t even the worst of it," I murmured.

They all turned to me, their eyes expectant.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "The Prada Bois killed Melo."

Silence.

The only sound was the soft hum of the store’s music playing in the background.

Nataya exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Jimmy already told me," she admitted. "I told Natasha."

"And Jacob told me," Kiyah added. "Once I told him I was his girl, he stopped sugarcoating shit."

Natasha crossed her arms. "I mean, we already kinda knew, but what I don’t get is why." She looked at me, her expression serious. "What kind of disrespect did Melo show?"

My chest felt like it was caving in. I had been holding onto a sliver of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, it hadn’t been Jey who made that call.

But then Nataya said, "Jimmy told me it was Jey who put out that hit."

It hit me like a punch to the gut. I didn’t react outwardly, but inside, I was falling apart. I had known, deep down, but knowing and hearing it confirmed were two different things. Jey hadn’t just been involved. He had made the decision. He had been the one to call the hit.

I felt sick.

Jey, the same man who had kissed me just last night, who had told me he was proud of me for proving I was built for this life—he had ordered the murder of a man I had once called my friend.

I wanted to throw up.

The girls kept talking, their voices blending together, but I wasn’t really hearing them anymore. I nodded when I was supposed to, made small sounds of agreement, but my mind was elsewhere.

Jey had killed Carmelo even if he hadn't pulled the trigger.

The thought replayed in my mind over and over again, like a scratched-up record. At some point, Kiyah pulled me toward a mirror, holding up a red strapless gown against my body. "This is it," she said, her eyes shining. "This dress is made for the girlfriend of the Head Prada Boi."

The dress was breathtaking—clear gems and beadwork decorating the bodice, the fabric flowing like water down to the floor. It was everything a girl like me should have wanted.

I forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah," I said, my voice hollow. "It’s perfect."

But inside, I knew the truth. No matter how expensive the dress was, no matter how many diamonds Jey wrapped around my wrist, there was no dressing up what I had become.

---

August 22nd 1998

Saturday rolled around, and I found myself curled up in my mama’s bed, wrapped in the warmth of her arms like I was a little girl again. The comfort of her embrace, the steady rise and fall of her breathing, the way she gently rubbed my back—it was the only peace I had felt in days. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to exist in this small moment, where nothing outside of these walls could touch me.

My mama’s voice was soft, full of that knowing concern only mothers have. “What’s going on, baby? You been quiet all week.”

I didn’t know how to answer. What could I say? That I had been drowning in my own thoughts? That the man I loved had taken another man’s life like it was nothing? That I had sat in a dress shop the other day pretending to be excited about my birthday while my heart shattered into pieces I wasn’t sure I could ever put back together?

I settled on something safer. “I just needed to be loved on,” I murmured, pressing my face into her shoulder.

She sighed, pulling me closer. “I always got you, baby. Always.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing her in, wishing I could stay like this forever. But reality was waiting for me outside. And it had Jey’s name written all over it.

Later that night, Jey picked me up in his car, and I barely said two words to him as we drove to Tonga’s house. The air between us was thick with unspoken tension. The only sound was the faint hum of the radio and the occasional tap of his fingers against the steering wheel.

He kept glancing over at me, clearly noticing my mood, but he didn’t press me about it. Instead, he tried to lighten the silence, cracking small jokes, reaching over to squeeze my thigh like he always did. I forced a small smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes.

By the time we pulled up to the house, the party was already in full swing. Music blared through the open doors, the bass shaking the pavement. Laughter and conversation mixed with the scent of food and liquor. People were everywhere—sprawled across the porch, huddled in groups, bodies moving to the rhythm of the music. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with smoke and the low murmur of voices. The Prada Bois were posted up in their usual corners, surrounded by women who hung onto them like ornaments. I spotted Kiyah and Natasha near the drink table, laughing about something, but my gaze kept drifting elsewhere.

I didn’t want to be here.

I didn’t want to be near Jey.

And I definitely didn’t want to see Damian. But my eyes found him anyway.

He was sitting back in a chair, a drink in one hand, and her in the other. Dulce. She was practically draped over him, her manicured fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. She laughed at something he whispered to her, the sound grating against my ears. I shouldn’t have cared. I had no right to care. But something about the way he touched her, the way she looked at him, made something hot and bitter rise in my chest.

Did he treat her like Jey treated me? Did he control her? Did he press his hand around her throat, not as a lover, but as a warning? Did she ever wonder if she was truly free, or if she was just another piece in someone else’s game?

I drowned the thoughts with another drink, tilting my head back and swallowing the burn before it could settle too deep. Before I could think too much.

Jey’s voice cut through the noise, loud and commanding, demanding everyone’s attention. “Ayo! Everybody, listen up!”

The crowd quieted, heads turning. I barely had time to react before I felt Jey’s arm snake around my waist, pulling me flush against his side. I stiffened, the warmth of his grip feeling suffocating, but I forced a small smile as all eyes landed on us.

“We here to celebrate my brother,” Jey continued, nodding toward Damian. “For being a real one, for holdin’ shit down. And also—” his grip on me tightened— “my baby, Nyeya. Who been holdin’ it down like she supposed to.”

A cheer went up, glasses raised, voices blending together in approval. But my ears were ringing. My skin was burning where Jey held me. I barely remembered the rest of the toast. I barely heard whatever else was said. All I knew was that when Jey turned to kiss me, I couldn’t do it. I twisted my head at the last second, his lips barely grazing my cheek.

His grip on my waist tightened. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I turned and walked away, pushing through the crowd, heading straight for the car. I needed air. I needed out. I barely made it to the driveway before I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist, yanking me back so hard I stumbled.

His eyes were dark, his face shadowed under the glow of the streetlights. “I asked you a question, Nyeya.”

I yanked my arm away. “You killed Melo,” I said, my voice low but firm. “You had him killed.”

Jey’s expression didn’t change. Didn’t falter.

I shoved him, my hands trembling with rage. “Say something!”

He tilted his head, his jaw clenching. Then, finally, he spoke. “Yeah.”

My stomach dropped.

“I did,” he said, his voice eerily calm. “And I don’t regret that shit.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“I told yo’ ass to get over it,” he muttered, turning away like the conversation was over. Like what he had just admitted didn’t change everything.

I grabbed his arm, yanking him back. “Tell me why you would fucking do that, Jey. Huh? Why?”

Jey’s dark eyes bore into mine, something unreadable flickering in their depths. And then he said it.

“Melo died because of you.”

The words shattered something inside me.

Jey took a step closer, his voice dropping into something final. “You shouldn’t have let him have access to you that night at the skating rink. And he thought he could play with what’s mine… in my face.”

A sharp, ugly noise escaped me. Mine. He said it like I was a thing, like I was an object to be possessed.

“So that’s it?” I choked out, my voice rising. “You had him killed because you think I’m a fucking doll on a display?”

Jey’s gaze flickered with something darker. “You let him get too close,” he muttered. “You should’ve known better. This your fault.”

I should’ve known better. A sharp, painful laugh bubbled up in my throat. “So, I guess you’re gonna kill every man that breathes near me, huh? That’s your plan? You gonna take out every person who looks my way?”

Jey didn’t answer.

I shook my head, disgusted. “You so fucking foul. You foul as fuck.”

His face twisted, his anger finally rising. “You wouldn’t even be in this life if it wasn’t for me, Nyeya,” he snapped. “You think you got options? You think you can just walk away from me? I told yo’ ass ain’t no leaving. Get that through your head.”

I swallowed hard, forcing down the fear, forcing myself to stand firm.

Jey’s expression darkened. “You mine,” he said, voice low, dangerous. “The moment you said ya’ lil ass could handle me, you became mine. Ain’t no changing yo’ damn mind now.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked down at the bracelet on my wrist, the one that had once felt like a promise but now felt like a shackle. My hands trembled as I unclasped it, my heart shattering into pieces.

Then, before I could think twice, I ripped it off and threw it at him. Jey caught it with ease, his fingers curling around the metal, his face blank.

“I ain’t for Prada no more,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

Jey’s entire body stiffened, his nostrils flaring, his grip on the bracelet tightening like he wanted to crush it.

I turned on my heel, my vision blurred with unshed tears, my chest feeling like it was caving in. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t look back. I wasn’t built for this.

---

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daeniradraconis · 2 days ago

Text

The Game We Play - C5.

Hey Lovelies, Sorry for the delay! To be honest, I lost a bit of motivation with this story for a while. So, I stepped back, took some time to think, and came back to it with fresh ideas—and I think it worked! :) I hope you’ll love it as much as I do! For more fun: masterlist❤️

---

William Nylander stood in front of his mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt for the fifteenth time. His hair was styled, his cologne was on, and yet, he still felt like a mess.

“Dude, relax,” Auston Matthews called from the couch, bouncing baby Elias on his lap. The infant let out a delighted squeal, smacking Auston’s beard with his tiny hands. “It’s just Odette. You see her almost every day.”

“That’s different,” William muttered, turning to the side to check his profile. Did this shirt make him look like he was trying too hard? Was his hair too perfect? He tousled it, then immediately regretted it and tried to smooth it back down. “This is a date.”

Auston snorted. “You’re acting like you’re about to propose, man.” He lifted Elias into the air like a tiny airplane, making the baby squeal with laughter. “Your dad’s being dramatic, isn’t he, buddy?”

Elias tilted his blond head to the side, his chubby cheeks puffing up as a toothless grin spread across his face. “Dada!” he babbled, barely able to form the word, but to William, it was perfect. His heart melted every time his son said it. Every. Single. Time.

“Yeah, Eli, you’re a genius!” Auston declared, grinning wildly. At 6'3", packed with muscle, he looked absolutely ridiculous holding such a tiny human whose entire head was roughly the size of his palm. William just smiled, watching his friend completely in awe of his son.

Then Elias spotted the dogs. His blue eyes lit up as he pointed excitedly at Banksy and Pablo. “Matty! Wau-wau!”

Auston and William exchanged an amused glance. This kid was growing up way too fast. Just a few weeks ago, he’d barely mumbled anything, and now he had an entire vocabulary—well, three words, but still. "Dada," "wau-wau," and "Matty."

Auston, of course, was absolutely thrilled that Elias had learned his name before Odette’s. He never shut up about it. Every time he saw the Leafs’ photographer, he’d casually remind her.

“Hey, did I mention Elias knows my name?”

“Yes, Auston.”

“Before yours?”

“Yes, Auston.”

“Just checking.”

Naturally, Odette was salty about it and had taken to calling Elias a traitor at every opportunity.

But right now, Auston was basking in his victory, holding Elias up like Simba in The Lion King. “That’s right, kid. You know who the coolest uncle is.”

Elias giggled, clearly enjoying the moment, before spitting out a little drool in response.

William smirked. “Pretty sure that means he thinks you’re full of crap.”

“Eli, how could you betray me like this?”Auston gasped dramatically.

The baby just smiled at him, utterly unbothered.

William sighed, turning back to the hallway mirror and rubbing his temples. “What if I screw this up?”

“Mess what up?” Auston raised a brow. “She already likes you. She basically raised this kid with you.” He gestured to Elias, who had now decided Auston’s hoodie strings were the most fascinating thing in the world. “She’s seen you at your worst, man. That time you fell asleep holding a Elias’s bottle upside down and soaked yourself? She didn’t even laugh that hard.”

“She definitely laughed,” William grumbled, grabbing a lint roller and running it over his pants.

“Okay, yeah, she did.” Auston smirked. “But that’s because she likes you. Just don’t be weird and it’ll be fine.”

William groaned. “I am weird.”

“Oh, 100%.” Auston nodded solemnly. “But, like, in a hot Swedish guy way. So it works for you.”

William tossed the keys from the top of the hallway cabinet toward Auston. Auston dodged without breaking a smile, while Elias clapped his hands, loving the show.

There was a knock at the door, and William immediately straightened, eyes wide in panic. “That’s her!”

Auston whistled. “No backing out now, Willy Styles.”

William shot him a glare before taking a deep breath and walking over to the door. He hesitated, then glanced back. “I look okay, right?”

Auston gave him a slow, exaggerated once-over. “You look… exactly like a guy who is way too nervous about a date with the woman who already adores him.”

Elias let out a tiny babble that somehow sounded like agreement.

William rolled his eyes and opened the door. There stood Odette, effortlessly stunning in a black shirt that draped off her shoulders, paired with perfectly fitted jeans and high-heeled boots that added just the right amount of edge. Her winter coat hung loosely in her hands, and her golden curls framed her face in soft, wild waves, catching the light as she moved. She had that kind of natural elegance—the kind that didn’t need effort, just presence. A warm, knowing smile played on her lips, and with the way she carried herself, confident and carefree, it was impossible not to look twice.

“Hey,” she greeted. “Ready to go?”

William opened his mouth to say something smooth, something charming. Instead, what came out was: “I—uh—yeah. Hi. Shoes. Yes. Going.”

Auston choked on a laugh behind him. Odette’s lips twitched in amusement, but she reached out, gently touching his arm. “Take your time, Willy.”

William took a deep breath, nodded, and grabbed his shoes, slipping them on as quickly as possible before stepping out. As he did, he heard Auston behind him, whispering dramatically to Elias: “Your dad is soooo whipped.”

Elias giggled in agreement.

William groaned, again. This was going to be a long night.

—

The restaurant was warm, candlelit, and intimate—the kind of place that invited long conversations and lingering looks. Odette found herself sinking into the atmosphere, the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses wrapping around her like a cozy blanket. Across from her, William had settled into his seat, one arm draped lazily over the back of his chair, his fingers idly tracing the stem of his wine glass.

“You know,” he said, swirling the deep red liquid. “I still can’t believe I’m someone’s dad.”

Odette arched a brow, tilting her head. “Does it feel real yet?”

William exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Some days, yeah. Like when I’m up at three in the morning, rocking him back to sleep, or when he calls me ‘Dada’ and my heart just—” He pressed a hand dramatically to his chest, eyes flickering with warmth. “Instant emotional damage. Every time.”

Odette chuckled, resting her chin in her palm. “You’re a good dad, Will.”

His gaze locked onto hers for a beat, something unreadable flashing across his face before he cleared his throat and smirked. “What about you? Tell me something I don’t know.”

She hesitated, then took a sip of her drink. “I love to dance.”

William’s brows shot up, intrigue sparking in his expression. “No way.”

“I’m terrible at it, though,” she admitted with a sheepish laugh. “Like, truly awful.”

His lips twitched. “I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, you should.” She pointed a warning finger at him. “I have zero rhythm. None. I look like one of those inflatable tube men outside of car dealerships.”

William let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, now I have to see this.”

Odette groaned. “Why did I tell you that?”

“Because deep down, you want me to see it,” he teased, leaning forward, his smirk widening. “You’re just hoping I’ll be too charmed to laugh.”

“Oh, you will laugh.”

“Damn right I will.” He raised his glass to her. “But I promise to be impressed, too.”

She rolled her eyes but clinked her glass against his anyway, their fingers brushing for just a second.

Then, feeling bolder, she admitted, “I, uh… never learned how to skate.”

William blinked, his face a mix of confusion and mock betrayal. “I’m sorry, what? But you’re Canadian. Every single one of you knows how to skate!”

Odette winced, swirling her drink in her hand. “Yeah… Well, my parents were always too busy, and they just… didn’t care about stuff like that. You know, most kids learn that stuff from their parents. We never really did any family things.” She hesitated, then exhaled softly. “Or, well… much of anything when it came to me.”

The teasing smirk vanished from William’s face, replaced by something softer—something that made her stomach flutter. He reached for her hand, his fingers warm as they wrapped gently around hers. The simple touch unraveled something in her, and she found herself gripping him back, just slightly.

“Odette…” His voice was quiet, but heavy with meaning.

She swallowed, forcing a small shrug, attempting to make light of it. “It’s not a big deal. I got used to it. Learned how to take care of myself.”

William didn’t look convinced. His baby-blue eyes locked onto hers, seeing right through the mask she was trying to put up. He shook his head, his thumb brushing idly over the back of her hand.

“Nah,” he murmured, leaning in just a little. “That’s a big deal.” His voice was low but firm, like he needed her to hear it—really hear it. “You deserved better.”

Her breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she couldn’t look away from him. The way he was looking at her, like she was something precious, something worth fighting for—it was a kind of warmth she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt before.

Desperate to lighten the moment before her heart burst, she forced a smile. “Well… at least I can cook. Had to teach myself, but I got pretty good at it.”

William’s grin returned instantly, easy and familiar, like he knew she needed the subject change. “That’s true! Elias thinks your pancakes are the best on planet Earth. HHe literally spits out mine and will only eat them if you make them.”

Odette laughed, finally exhaling the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “The boy has taste, that’s all I can say. But maybe one day, I’ll make something more complicated for you guys.”

William’s grip on her hand tightened slightly. “Careful,” he warned, his smirk tilting in that way that made her stomach flip. “I might show up at your door with a fork and dangerously high expectations.”

She shook her head, laughing as she ran her fingers softly over his palm, tracing absentminded circles. “Noted. No pressure or anything.”

“Oh, no pressure at all.” He leaned back, still holding her hand, his voice dropping to something lower, softer. “Just my entire happiness on the line.”

Odette rolled her eyes and threw her napkin at him, but her fingers lingered against his just a little longer than necessary.

—

Toronto’s night air had that perfect kind of crispness—the kind that made you instinctively tuck yourself closer to the person beside you. Not that Odette minded. Not when William had his strong arm wrapped around her shoulders, radiating warmth like a living, breathing heater. The streets were quiet, lined with twinkling lights that made everything feel a little softer, a little dreamier. Tonight just felt... easy.

It had been a long time since a conversation had flowed like this—effortless, like flipping through the pages of a favorite book. They’d talked about everything: childhood memories, family, the weird little quirks that made them who they were.

Odette glanced up at him, grinning. “It’s funny. I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

William smirked down at her. “That’s probably because I have an incredibly familiar face.”

She snorted, nudging him with her shoulder. “Oh, definitely. Has nothing to do with the fact that we just spent hours talking like we’ve been best friends for a decade.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re catching on.” His smirk softened as he gave her shoulder a squeeze. “It’s nice, though, isn’t it?”

She hummed in agreement, leaning into him. “Yeah… it really is.”

Somewhere along the way, the conversation wandered toward the future. William talked about hockey, about how badly he wanted to win the Stanley Cup—not just for himself, but for the Leafs, for the city. But more than that, he wanted balance. He wanted to be there for Elias, to be the kind of dad his son could always count on. He wanted a family. Stability.

“I want a family too,” Odette said, a wistful smile playing on her lips. “And kids—lots of them.”

William arched a brow, his lips twitching. “Lots?”

“Yeah, a lot,” she said matter-of-factly. “Like a whole pack. You know, like the Weasley family.”

William chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent something fizzy through her chest. “You really have a serious Harry Potter addiction.” His lips curled into a smirk. “But I love that.”

She blinked up at him, feigning offense. “What, the kids or my Harry Potter addiction?”

He grinned. “Both.”

Odette laughed, shaking her head. “Figures.”

She barely had a second to recover before he added, “But the idea of you with a whole bunch of little troublemakers running around? Yeah… that does things to me. And I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to feel this way after a first date.”

Odette rolled her eyes, but the way he was looking at her—like he actually liked picturing it—sent warmth blooming in her cheeks.

“Please,” she scoffed, grinning up at him. “We’ve been dancing around this for months. If anything, you’re way behind on feeling things.”

William’s smirk deepened. “Oh, am I?”

She tilted her head playfully. “Mhm. You better catch up, Nylander.”

He let out another chuckle, gaze dropping to her lips for just a second before he murmured, “Oh, trust me. I’m working on it.”

As they turned around the next corner, William suddenly stopped in his tracks, a spark of excitement lighting up his features. “I have an idea.”

Odette raised a brow. “Oh?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took her hand—without hesitation, without second-guessing—and gently tugged her toward the alley next to them. “Come on, trust me.”

And just like that, she let him lead the way.

They walked for a few minutes, weaving through quiet streets until they reached a large park Odette didn’t recognize. She had only been living in the city for a few months, and William had years of advantage when it came to finding hidden gems. But when she looked ahead, she felt her breath catch.

Under the soft glow of streetlights, an open skating rink stretched out before them, the ice smooth and glistening. A handful of people skated effortlessly under the stars, laughter echoing through the crisp night air. The whole scene looked like something out of a snow globe.

Odette turned to him, a sharp suspicion in her eyes. “William Andrew Michael Junior Nylander Altelius, did you just trick me into learning how to skate?”

His grin was wide and completely unapologetic. “Maybe.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but the mischievous warmth in his expression made it impossible to stay mad. Instead, she sighed and shook her head. “Look at you. I admit I can’t skate, and now you’re just having way too much fun with that, huh? You little rascal.”

“You’re about to become a real Canadian, darling.” He wiggled his eyebrows, teasing. “Seriously, you should be happy. You’re getting lessons from hockey royalty. Not everyone gets that opportunity.”

She groaned, already knowing she was defeated. “Okay, let’s do this. But if I fall, you’re coming down with me.”

“Deal.” He smirked, crouching to lace up his skates, his movements fluid and confident. When he straightened, he extended a hand to her, his blue eyes sparkling with playful encouragement.

Something inside her softened. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

—

Odette wobbled, taking one tentative step onto the ice. Her legs felt like jelly beneath her, but she forced herself to stand tall, gripping William’s hand tightly. She could feel his steady presence beside her, but his mischievous grin was enough to make her nervous.

“You’re not going to let me fall, right?” she asked, her voice a mix of teasing and genuine uncertainty.

William’s grin stretched wider. “If you fall, I’ll make sure it’s a graceful landing.”

“Graceful?” She shot him a look, skeptical but amused, her grip tightening around his hand as she took another unsteady step. “I have zero grace. I told you, I can’t even dance!”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “That’s a different story. This is survival mode.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she replied, sarcasm dripping from her words as she wobbled again. “If ‘survival mode’ for you means embarrassing me in public.”

William dramatically pouted, playing up the act. “Hey, I’m just here to help. Think of it as... a character-building experience.”

“Uh-huh. And I’m building character by clinging to you for dear life.”

They both burst out laughing, the sound mingling with the gentle glide of skates on ice around them. William pulled her closer, his arm sliding around her waist to keep her steady.

“You’re doing fine,” he said, voice soft. “You just gotta trust your balance.”

“I don’t trust my balance,” she muttered, narrowing her eyes as she took another step, this time a little more confidently. “I trust you more than I trust my own body right now.”

“Smart choice,” William teased, his eyes sparkling as he caught her gaze.

With a playful huff, Odette finally found her rhythm, skating a few shaky circles around him, then stopping short and nearly colliding with him. She leaned forward into him, her face dangerously close to his chest. “See?” she muttered into his jacket, laughing awkwardly. “I knew this was a terrible idea.”

He chuckled, warm breath brushing her hair. “You’re doing great, actually.”

She pulled back slightly to look up at him, her brow furrowed. “Really?”

He nodded, his hands still on her waist, steadying her. “Better than me when I first learned. You’re a natural.”

“Oh, stop it.” She swatted at his chest. “You’re just saying that because you’re trying to make me feel better.”

William’s expression softened as he lowered his voice. “No, I mean it. You’re already skating, and you haven’t fallen on your face yet. I’m impressed.”

“Well, I’m not going to thank you for that.” She stuck her tongue out playfully. “If I do fall, I’m going to hold you personally responsible.”

“Fair enough,” he grinned, and before she could react, he suddenly tugged her forward, sliding them both into a slow spin.

Odette yelped as she struggled to keep her balance. “William! What the hell—”

“You’re doing great!” he teased, his arms securely wrapped around her as they turned in a wide arc. “Just relax, and let me lead.”

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” she groaned, trying not to laugh.

He grinned, glancing down at her with a gleam in his eye. “I swear, you’re making this way harder than it needs to be. Just give in.”

“Give in? To what? I’m just trying not to end up flat on my face,” she quipped, leaning back to him.

He laughed, pulling her even closer. “I thought you said you wanted to learn. Can’t get all stubborn now.”

“Nope, this was your idea,” she countered, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. “I’m just going along with it. And if you keep pushing me to be a pro after five minutes of skating, I’m definitely going to take you down with me.”

He smirked, his eyes sparkling with playful intent. “I’m just trying to—”

Before he could finish, his foot caught on the ice, and he tilted toward her with a shout of surprise. In a desperate attempt to stay upright, he wrapped his arms around her, and they both stumbled. They crashed onto the ice, landing in a tangled heap of laughter.

For a moment, neither could breathe from laughing so hard. Odette was sprawled on top of him, her face flushed with embarrassment, but she couldn’t stop giggling. William’s hand brushed against her cheek as he caught his breath, his blue eyes warm with affection.

“Well... that wasn’t the plan,” William said, his voice still filled with amusement.

“You’re killing me, Mr.Hockey Royalty,” she gasped between laughs, awkwardly straddling him.

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. With a breathless chuckle, he shifted, pushing himself up onto his elbows before sitting up fully, bringing her with him. “You’re the one who distracted me,” he teased, but his tone softened, holding an unspoken sincerity.

“I’m pretty sure you were trying to distract me,” she teased back, her breath quickening.

His gaze dropped to her lips for just a moment before he grinned and pulled her closer. “Maybe I was.”

Odette’s heart skipped a beat, her breath hitching. Then, before either of them could second-guess it, William’s lips were on hers—soft, warm, and entirely right.

For a long moment, the world seemed to disappear, the only thing that mattered being the connection between them. His hands gently cupped her face, and she melted into him, their laughter from moments ago turning into a quiet, deep kiss, full of unspoken promise.

When they finally pulled back, breathless, Odette smirked, her fingers still lingering on his face. “Well, that wasn’t terrible,” she said, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

William smiled softly, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “I’d say it was a pretty good way to end your first skating lesson.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but her heart was racing. “You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot who just kissed you on the ice,” he shot back, with a knowing grin.

She narrowed her eyes, but the warmth in her chest melted away any potential protest. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to fall for you again.”

“Noted,” he said, voice low and teasing, before pulling her into another quick, lingering kiss.

—

Odette and William stepped into the entrance of the apartment building, their laughter still echoing between them, a warm, easy rhythm that came from the evening they'd just shared. The world around them felt a little quieter, a little softer as they walked toward Odette’s door. Their steps slowed, the space between them shifting into something more intimate.

“I told you, Woll needs something different in a girl,” Odette teased, nudging him gently with her elbow, her laughter still bubbling.

William smiled, but his brows furrowed in confusion. “Odette, Anna was perfect for him.”

She shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing around her face. There was a lightness in her expression, but a firm conviction in the way she spoke. “Woll’s a sweet guy, but he’s like a golden retriever—too nice for this world. He needs a black cat girlfriend. Anna? She was another golden retriever. Too much of the same.”

William paused, trying to process what she was saying, but all he could focus on was the way she was looking at him—soft and playful, but with something deeper beneath the surface. She had him completely under her spell.

“A black cat girlfriend?” His voice was a little lower now, genuinely curious but also distracted by her.

Odette grinned at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, Willy, you are so out of touch with social media trends. It’s cute.” She raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “I’ll show you sometime.”

William chuckled softly, his gaze locked onto hers. “You can show me tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, laced with something deeper.

His hands found their way to her neck, fingers tracing lightly over her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. “Right now, I’m more interested in… other things.”

Without waiting for a response, he leaned in, and their lips met in a kiss that deepened instantly. It was as if the rest of the world fell away. The air between them grew thicker, warmer, the chemistry between them undeniable. They moved together, bodies pressing closer, hearts racing in sync.

The door to Odette’s apartment clicked shut behind them, but neither of them noticed. They were too caught up in each other to care about anything else.

Odette’s back hit the wall beside her door, and William pressed against her, hands roaming over her body with a quiet urgency. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away—she pulled him closer. They kissed harder now, the heat between them intensifying. They were both desperate for more—more of each other, more of this.

William’s lips moved to her jaw, his breath warm against her skin. Odette let out a soft gasp, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him back to her lips. They were tangled up in each other, their hearts beating fast, as if they couldn’t get close enough.

But just as the moment started to spiral out of control, a soft, deliberate cough broke through the air.

Startled, they pulled apart, both of them breathless, eyes wide in shock.

And there, sitting comfortably on Odette’s couch like he belonged there, was Quinn Hughes. He casually scratched behind Luc’s ears, completely unfazed by the tension crackling in the air.

He glanced between them, taking in their flushed faces and breathless expressions before breaking into an amused grin.

Quinn leaned back, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. “Don’t stop on my account.”

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