#She's never going to be comfortable with them though

[lexirosewrites]

This is a famous Au, with rockstar A!Eddie and bodyguard O!Steve. Steve was always bigger for an omega and Robin helped him feel comfortable in his body. So, Steve felt able to keep working out and could even take down alphas if needed.

Steve's dad didn't like having such a strange omega son, when having an omega son was bad enough. So, Steve was kicked out and he panicked. He didn't want to force Robin to take him in or go to Joyce or Hopper about it.

Out of pure luck, there was an ad for a bodyguard. There would be a big background check and they would have to wear scent patches at work. Steve thought it was perfect. He could pretend to be something other than an omega and never let someone else tell him he wasn't a good omega.

Steve doesn't know the artist but soon enough he meets the alpha. Eddie is a wild but kind man. But more than that, he smells like Steve's mate. But even though he's right by Eddie, the man never really gets to know him. And Steve's had to push the others back who claim to be Eddie's mate. So, he doesn't say anything. It feels like rejection that Eddie can't smell him year after year.

Robin says he's being ridiculous because over the years, Steve's just kept his patches on longer and longer. To the point where even his house doesn't smell like him anymore. But Steve shrugs her off, his omega feeling beaten down after so long being close to his mate and not being able to hold him or be held by him.

Then there's an accident during a show where Steve covers Eddie with his own body to protect the man. And he loses his hearing in the process. Since it was Eddie's fault, Eddie feels guilty and spends time at Steve's bedside. However for the first time in a long time, Steve can't wear the patches. His scent is extremely weak and Eddie hears from the doctor himself about how patches worn for long periods of time hurts your inner designation. And that it seems like Steve never really took his off between being with Eddie, on call for Eddie, or only having a day here or there off.

Robin is there for Steve and she hates the alpha on principle for causing so much pain for Steve. Along with the fact that even after years and years of them working together, Eddie hadn't known his name. Like Eddie didn't care about his staff or anyone other than himself. Steve has no ill will towards Eddie because he sees Eddie as who he really is. He knows the man is kind and good, Eddie just forgets that sometimes.

As Steve heals, Eddie pushes himself to learn sign language and starts befriending those on his staff. He meets the kid at pyrotechnics, Dustin, who is a huge fan of Eddie but also basically Steve's little brother. He meets his make-up artist and costume designer the twins, El and Will, another one of Steve's kids. His soundboard techs, Max and Lucas, is almost more vicious over Steve than Robin. One of the people who help write his songs, who he actually did know, Mike, was surprisingly protective over Steve and angry with Eddie after the attack.

Eddie realizes that Steve befriended more of Eddie's staff than Eddie is. Eddie's guilty but Steve isn't mad. No, Steve never even accepted Eddie's apology. There was nothing to apologize for.

As time goes one, Eddie feels like shit but he's really trying, he just got swept up in performances and everything on his schedule. Soon he's escaping to Steve who finally got Eddie to understand that he hasn't stopped working in years. Every party, every show, interview, photoshoot, they were all performances. Eddie's never taken off that mask he started with and he's tired.

He finds comfort in Steve's scent and soon Eddie's basically living out of Steve's small 2 bedroom apartment that he shares with Robin.

“rockstar alpha eddie is lowkey an asshole” is an underrated agenda tbh!!! like yes he is self absorbed, but it’s not intentional and he has room to grow! in the meantime, steve will be a good enough person for both of them😭

also bodyguard omega steve 🥵🥵🥵

[basketball-lesbians]

Freefall

summary: The thing about Paige and Azzi is they were never any good at staying away from each other. Even when they really should.

OR

The fwb pazzi fic that quite literally nobody asked for but I’m providing anyway.

pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

contents: angst, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff occasionally if you squint, fwb, cheating

disclaimer:

As the story progresses, some of this will be out of character for Paige, especially with Azzi (she's lowkey an asshole at times in this storyline). There is cheating in this fic (NOT between Paige and Azzi), I don't condone it, but I did write it. I literally just wrote this because I could not get the prompt out of my head and bc I think it’s hot, lol. None of this has been beta’d, please do not repost/distribute anywhere else. Hope you enjoy these silly gay bitches being obsessed w each other :)

—

It was something they’d fought about a thousand times: the impending end of their time together at UCONN, whether Azzi would declare, how they would manage being thrust into being a long distance relationship again- if the cards fell that way.

Each time they’d fought about it, they would inevitably come to a resolution that it wasn’t worth stressing about before they had to- that they should treasure the moments they had left and live in the moment while it lasted. No matter how much that conclusion equally made Azzi’s stomach turn, ever the over-thinker, Paige would soothe her with that sweet, gentle voice she reserved for only her, and brush her loose curls behind her ear as she pressed sweet kisses to her face, and Azzi would let it go.

This time though, they hadn’t had such luck. They’d been arguing ahead of the season starting for an hour- loud enough that it echoed off the walls of the shared apartment, leading Ice and the other girls to take it as a sign and leave to give them privacy.

“No Paige, you’re not listening to me!” Azzi shouts, tears welling in her eyes as she flings her hands in a gesture of frustration that shows her desperation.

“How the fuck am I not listening to you?” Paige bites back defensively, her tone hot with anger. At that, Azzi scoffs, turning around to wipe the tears from her eyes harshly. The site of her back turned as she sniffles and wipes her face clearly melts away at Paige’s resolve, and it’s quiet for a ten count before her voice softens. “Baby, we’ve been at this for an hour.” She says, clearly exasperated.

“No. For months.” Azzi corrects pointedly, turning on her heel to meet Paige’s gaze. Her voice is unsteady, but the words are sharp and sure. There’s sincerity behind it, and they both know the implications of what she’s saying as it settles into the room.

It hangs heavy in the air between them, but neither of them manages to address it, just staring at each other. “And we’re no closer to resolving it.” It slips from her lips before she really thinks about it, and even though she means it, she feels bad as soon as she says it. She knows it was a low blow, speaking something aloud that so evidently assigned blame to Paige’s career.

Paige’s frame suddenly seems small in the low lighting of the room. She stares at the ground midway between them, not quite bold enough to look Azzi right in the face. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Azzi.” She mutters, defeated.

Azzi nods, wetting her lips. She would never ask Paige to choose her over her career, in any capacity. As teenagers, they’d conspired dreams about how they’d play together in college, spend every day together in practice and win championships before declaring for the draft and entering the league together. Azzi had finished college in 3 years just so they could stay in the same class.

But life hadn’t quite worked out that way. Yes, they’d both gotten to UCONN. They’d even gotten as close to a championship as the final four, more than once. But in three years, they’d only played 17 games together, injuries always getting in the way.

Now, almost a year after her second ACL tear, Azzi was close to coming back- this time, hopefully more permanently. But Paige was expected to declare after the end of her fifth year of playing at UCONN, her eligibility to stay in college gone, and nobody- including herself- was sure if the time was right for Azzi to declare, having missed so much play time throughout her collegiate career.

She knew the importance that getting to the league held to Paige. To both of them. She would never want to put herself before that. She did wish, though, that just for once, Paige would at least admit that the tensions that declaring brought with it were causing issues between them.

Really what she wishes is that she would hold her and apologize for the stress it caused, and promise that she would still be her priority, no matter where the draft took her. But Paige, ever so stubborn and never one to take blame if she didn’t have to, had yet to do so.

“You know what? Nevermind. I don’t know why I even brought it up.” Azzi grumbles, reaching for her sweatshirt that was slung over the back of Paige’s desk chair.

“Hey,” Paige says in protest, stepping toward her to grab her hand. “Paige, please.” Azzi sighs, glancing at their hands together before meeting the blonde’s eyes, glossy with tears. They share a pained look, but neither of them says anything. Paige drops her hand as Azzi reaches for her bedroom door. “I’ll see you at practice.” She says, closing the door behind her.

—

To make matters worse, when her alarm goes off the next morning, Azzi discovers that in her overly tired and emotional state after coming back from Paige’s, she’d set her alarm for 45 minutes after what she normally would to get ready for practice. She groans as she wakes up, rolling over to pick up her phone, turning off the alarm.

When she sees the time, she throws the blankets off, scrambling to her feet. She pulls her bonnet off and tosses it to her bedside table, grabbing a hair-tie left behind by Paige and pulling her curls back as fast as she can. Nearly falling over as she pulls on a pair of sweats and a hoodie she's pretty sure is her girlfriends', she rushes into the bathroom to quickly brush her teeth, splashing cold water on her face in a desperate effort to wake herself up, not bothering to look at her reflection in the mirror.

Of course this would happen to her the day of the first official practice back.

She grabs her practice set and court shoes and tosses them into her duffel along with another change of clothes, quickly grabbing a few hair care products and hygiene items to get ready with after practice before zipping it closed and slinking out the door. She gets down one out of three flights before realizing her keys aren’t in her hand. She groans in frustration, hanging her head in exasperation for a moment before turning around and running back up the flight of stairs she’d just come down, swiping her card to get back into her apartment to grab her keys.

Once she finds them, she rushes back down the stairs a second time, jogging across the walkway into the lot to her jeep as she checks her watch for the time. Shit. There was no way she was making it on time. She tosses her bag into the backseat before climbing into the drivers seat, and when she does, she’s instantly met with the realization that Paige was the last person to drive her car- she’d taken it for an oil change over the weekend because Azzi had studying she’d needed to do.

It’s evident in the way that her seat is slightly further back to account for Paige’s long legs, the smell of her cologne still barely in the air, and finally, when the engine turns over, the way that the speakers are turned to full volume once her phone resyncs to the audio system.

She flinches, partially at how bad she feels for picking a fight with Paige last night and partially at how loud the music comes through the speakers. She cranks the dial down after nearly jumping out of her skin, reversing out of her parking spot and out of the lot, probably a little bit faster than she should.

—

She pulls into the practice facility and manages a parking job she’s sure she’ll hear about in the team group chat later before speed walking inside, her bag hitting her knee awkwardly every other step. She swipes herself into the facility and immediately rushes to the team room and then to the changing rooms, throwing on her practice set and pulling out her shoes to walk to the courts. She tries to slink into the gym without being noticed, but the girls are already running drills across the court, so there’s nothing to distract CD from clocking her as soon as she rounds the corner.

Azzi offers an apologetic smile, and for a second she actually thinks that the pathetic look on her face might have spared her from a lecture when CD’s expression softens as she looks at her, but then she hears it. Geno’s loud voice booms across the gym- calling her out in front of the entire team and staff.

“Azzi Fudd! How nice of you to make an appearance.” He chides, hands wide as he makes a big gesture at her in disbelief, walking towards her. She nods, dropping her court shoes to the floor, slipping her slides off to change into them. “I know- I’m so sorry,” She acknowledges, not bothering to provide an excuse, because she knows by now how their coaching staff feels about them.

“Mmm. Just decided since you aren’t fully cleared you don’t need to be here?” He asks sharply, and even though she knows he doesn’t actually think that about her, and that he’s just annoyed and trying to prove a point, it still stings. “No, I-“

She stops herself, knowing she’s getting emotional and about to launch into a defensive explanation for no reason. It was a shitty feeling right now, but he’ll forget about it before the week’s out. “No excuse, Coach. It won’t happen again.”

Even though he’s barely taller than her, she feels small as he looks at her intently. “Better not. Get your mind right, kid.” She nods, kneeling down to tie her shoe. He turns away from her, spurring the girls on the court into switching to another drill.

CD takes his place next to her, leaning over slightly so she can hear her without her having to raise her voice. “Brush it off. Lynn’s waiting for you in the team room,” She says, patting Azzi on the back as she stands up.

She nods, smoothing a hand over her hair as she offers a small smile in response. Subconsciously, her eyes scan the group of girls on the court for Paige as she walks back out of the gym, although she hears her before her eyes actually find her.

“Box out, box out! You can’t leave him open like that!” She yells to the underclassmen as she runs under the basket to rebound a shot thrown up by one of the practice players, dribbling it back outside the key and retaking the possession. Azzi smiles to herself slightly at that, walking under the banner that hangs over the doors on her way out.

Paige’s gaze finds Azzi’s figure walking out as she resets, closing in on the three point line. She pump fakes the practice player thats guarding her and pivots hard to the left, losing him fully, before coming up for a wide open jumpshot three.

Azzi’s already turned the corner and walked out of the gym by the time the ball leaves her shooting hand, but her eyes still come back to the doorway to look for her. When she doesn’t find her there, her gaze snaps back to the hoop. The shot bounces off the shooting square of the backboard, rolling around the lip of the rim tantalizingly before tipping out of the basket. Miss.

—

Paige wrings her hair out with her towel, the material of the dri-fit shirt she’d pulled on sticking to her back with her movements. The chatter from the other girls that would usually fill the locker room is non-existent this morning, Paige having stayed significantly late after practice to get extra shots up and talk to Geno.

The stress of this season was already weighing on her, but she was determined to rise to the occasion and use this season, her last, to get the Huskies to championship number 12. She’d always had a chip on her shoulder, but this year, with all the media speculation and attention, she was committed to showing up and showing out- to do what she came here to do.

No matter what the cost was. It was something she needed to prove to herself.

She sighs, hanging up the towel into her locker, and drops her hygiene bag into the open drawer of her locker, nudging it shut with her hip.

She barely hears when Azzi enters the locker room from the team room, shower kit in hand to head to where Paige had just emerged from.

“Hey,” Azzi says, a quiet start to a conversation they both know is going to feel like ripping off a bandaid. Paige nods at her, lifting a hand under her shirt to apply deodorant. Azzi’s eyes briefly skim the exposed section of taut midriff that flashes before her shirt falls back to cover it again. “Hey. Didn’t know you were still here.”

“Yeah, um. Stayed back for some cupping.” She shifts her clothes and shower kit between her hands awkwardly, lingering in place solely to talk to the other girl, who’s nodding along as she combs through her drawer, evidently looking for something specific.

“Talked with Lynn a little bit about the conversations I’ve been having with Carl,” She says, a touch of hopefulness in her voice evident at the mention of her recovery timeline.

Paige offers a slight smile at that, running lotion over her hands and face. “That’s good,” She says, pulling a hoodie on over her t-shirt. “You wanna get breakfast after you shower, talk about last night?” She asks, finally turning to look at Azzi fully.

Azzi doesn’t miss the way her tone is just a little short, her expression tense, like she’s holding back from her. She hates when she gets like this after they fight- understands it, but hates it, nonetheless.

“I have class after this,” She reminds her gently- a byproduct of the fact that Azzi had chosen in person classes while Paige had adamantly tried to keep the both of their schedules as fully online as possible.

Paige purses her lips slightly and nods, reaching for her bag. “Right. Okay,” She says, putting her shoes in the top of her locker and tidying up her space. “Well, I guess lemme know when you have time to talk, then.”

“Paige, hey.” Paige looks up, pulling her backpack over her shoulder. “What’s up?” She asks, her voice almost impatient, like she's waiting for Azzi to finish her thought so she can leave.

“I-“ Her voice falters, not sure of what to say. After not interacting at all since their fight last night, Azzi wasn’t sure what to say.

She thought they’d both soften by the time they talked about it, and maybe they had- but an immediate rejection the second that Paige offered to talk definitely hadn’t helped. Now she was doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out a way to walk that back before Paige walked out of the room.

“I finish with classes at 4. Do you wanna meet at my apartment?” Paige frowns. “We were gonna go to the women’s soccer game tonight, we talked about it in practice.” She says flatly.

Azzi nods, pretending it didn’t sting that the season had literally barely started and she’d already been left out of team conversations due to being benched. “Okay. After that?”

Paige sighs, pulling her phone out of her pocket when it starts ringing. “Shit. It’s Brittany, I gotta take this.”

Azzi draws her bottom lip between her teeth and raises her eyebrows, nodding. “Okay.” She says as Paige walks past her and towards the door.

She turns to acknowledge Azzi as she passes at least, which softens the blow.

“Sorry for not telling you about the soccer thing, it was an impromptu idea that got brought up this morning. You’re obviously invited,” She says, before drawing her thumb across the screen and pulling her phone to her ear.

“Yeah. I’ll text you,” Azzi calls after her, and Paige throws a pointer finger up in acknowledgment as she walks out.

So much for talking about it.

—

She gets ready quickly after her shower, not liking how quiet the facility was when the whole team wasn’t there, filling it with buzzing energy and a love for the game.

She pulls her hair back and makes faces at herself in the mirror for a minute before heading to her locker and putting away the gear she kept at the facility, packing up the rest in her duffel.

She pulls her phone and keys out of her bag, looking at her phone for the first time since she’d gotten to the facility. Really, for the first time since she’d been awake, what with the way she’d woken up.

She unlocks her phone and navigates to messages, where she sees 5 unread messages from Paige. Furrowing her brows, she opens their pinned conversation.

Paige Madison 💗:

12:07am: Hey, I’m sorry about tonight. Can I come up?

12:22am: I love you, Az

1:12am: U still tryna ride w me to practice?

4:45am: Should I wait for you or nah?

5:20am: Yo, you good? Getting worried now.

Azzi sighs, running her free hand over her face, frustrated. No wonder she was short with her this morning.

She probably thought she had ignored her all night, and as soon as she’d asked her to go with her to get breakfast and talk this morning, Azzi had turned her down. If Azzi knew anything about Paige from the last 7 years, it was that she hated feeling rejected.

Feeling guilty, she types out a response.

9:11am: I’m so sorry, I just saw this. I went straight to sleep and then overslept this morning

9:11am: I’m okay. I’m sorry if I worried you

Then, after a beat:

9:13am: I love you too

—

Collegiate soccer games are 90 minutes, divided into two 45 minute halves. Azzi knows this because she googled it. Twice.

The soccer game had started at 5:30, and Azzi had too much homework to go, which she’d texted to the team chat. Ice had tried to drag her with her on her way out the door, but Azzi held her ground, knowing she needed to stay on top of her coursework as the season ramped up, or she’d regret it later.

The girls complained in the groupchat at her absence, which made her feel a little less bad, but Paige had largely not acknowledged her since their tense conversation in the locker room- aside from a response to the messages Azzi had sent when she finally looked at her phone this morning.

Paige Madison 💗

9:43am: All g. Lmk if you still wanna talk after the game

So she’d texted back after her class-

11:12am: Ofc. I just have some hw I’ll be working on but I’ll be at home after my class ends at 4

And although Paige had heart reacted to it, Azzi was still feeling a bit uneasy about the whole thing.

Now it was 8:24, and Azzi’s done the math- even accounting for timeouts, substitutions, and a break at half, and even if they went into overtime, it’s getting late.

There’s nothing in the chat about the game going long or traffic being bad or something coming up- so even though she tries to assure herself it’s nothing, she’s slowly becoming convinced that it’s definitely something.

—

When the group finally comes barreling through the door, Azzi’s moved to her bed to be more comfortable, giving up on trying to stay up. She isn’t sure what time it is, but she knows it’s late enough for her to be justified in being bothered.

She goes to check her phone. 1:41am, and still no texts from Paige. Nice.

The girls erupt in laughter in the living room, and she hears Paige’s voice amongst them. “Yo, yo. Shut up, f’real. You’re acting dumb as fu-“ Her words are cut off by very obviously running her shin into something- Azzi would assume the ottoman she left sticking out.

For a second, she almost feels bad. Almost.

“Ohhhh, fuck me.” Paige groans out loudly, and then there's what sounds like her jumping on one foot to hold her leg.

The other girls cackle at her obnoxiously, and Azzi huffs, resolving to get out of bed so all the girls make it to theirs safely. She switches on the light in her room, pulling her robe on, and the way she can hear the girls scatter at the sound makes her feel like she’s somebody’s mother.

She pulls her door open, and Ice is laying on the floor clutching at her stomach in laughter while she watches Paige nurse her leg leaning against the wall. She hears Morgan giggling somewhere on the couch, and the smell of liquor coming off of the trio does not impress her at all.

She stands with her hands on her hips just outside the living room, staring at Ice. Ice giggles anxiously when she sees her, scooting across the floor and away from her.

“Isuneh,” Azzi warns, walking toward her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” She laughs out, clearly picking up on Azzi’s agitation, despite being inebriated to the extent that she is.

“We should have texted- the girls won, like totally kicked Boston’s ass, and they wanted to go to Ted’s with us, so…” She trails off, and Azzi sighs, turning to find the other two in the dimly lit room.

Morgan, to her credit, seems the least drunk out of the three of them, but she’s entirely too bubbly considering that it’s nearly midnight on a monday.

Azzi gestures towards Morgan, not acknowledging Paige yet. The tension it adds to the room is palpable. “Do you need help getting to bed?” Azzi asks, a gentle lilt in her voice despite being annoyed.

She wasn’t trying to ruin the freshman’s fun just because she was having a bad day. Morgan shakes her head, standing slightly unsteadily.

Azzi sighs, leaning down to grab Ice’s hands and pull her up and lean her against the couch. “Get some sleep,” She says to Morgan. “Pain meds are in the cabinet above the coffee maker, I’ll make sure there’s food in the morning.”

Morgan smiles nervously at her, her posture small. “Thanks, Az,” She whispers, and Azzi nods at her, offering a small smile back.

Ice slumps into Azzi’s shoulder, giggling again. Azzi hits her shoulder, only slightly playfully. “You should know better, Isuneh,”

She scolds, pushing her back against the couch again so she can swing an arm beneath hers and get her to her bedroom.

“It’s a frikin' Monday night.” She says incredulously, mostly to herself.

Ice laughs at that before groaning, reaching for her stomach. “No, no, no,” She rushes to get out. Azzi cranes her neck to look at her.

“What?” She asks, and Ice gags. Azzi winces, saying a silent prayer that nothing comes up, and that if it does, it somehow manages to avoid her.

Ice drops her weight back towards the couch and out of Azzi’s reach. “Don’t move me, just let me die here.” She says dramatically, and Azzi makes a face, staring at her for a moment, calculating.

She sighs, picking up her feet and putting her fully on the couch. She walks to the closet just outside the living room and pulls out a blanket, fanning it out over Ice so she can at least hopefully get comfortable and sleep this off.

She feels Paige’s gaze on her, but she makes no effort to acknowledge it. She walks to the kitchen and gets a glass of water, bringing it back to the drunken girl sprawled out on the couch. “Here,” She says, holding out the glass in one hand and two aspirin in the other.

“You’re gonna wanna get ahead of this before the morning,” She says when Ice stares at her blankly. “I don’t know if I can even swallow that,” Ice slurs, trying to sit up and missing when she tries to plant her arm, nearly dropping off the side of the couch and into Azzi’s leg.

She grimaces, leaning out of the contact, and resettles Ice onto the cushions. “Come on. Take this and I’ll let you sleep.” Ice sighs loudly, reaching for the pills and taking them from Azzi’s hand.

The glass, however, she simply presses her lips to, rather than taking it from Azzi’s hand.

“Oh my god,” Azzi mutters, tilting the glass slowly so the water flows into Ice’s mouth. She swallows loudly, opening her mouth wide after the fact to show off that the pills were gone.

Azzi chuckles to herself. “Very nice,” She credits, pulling the blanket over the taller girl once she settles back on the couch.

Ice sighs, bringing the blanket to her chin. “Thanks, crazy Azzi. Don’t have too much fun with Paigey-Waigey. I’ll be able to hear it from here.” She giggles, wagging her finger at Azzi suggestively. Azzi rolls her eyes, taking the glass back to the kitchen. As if.

She walks back through the living room and Paige is already looking at her, her hand still over her shin. Azzi sighs. “Are you okay?” She asks, gesturing loosely at her leg.

Paige nods, her eyes obviously tired, and moves to try and stand, using the wall for aid. Azzi comes slightly closer, so if she falls she’d be able to catch her, and watches her carefully. “‘M fine, Az. I’m not even that drunk.” She defends, and Azzi rolls her eyes yet again.

“Right.” She says. Paige clears her throat, awkward, using the opportunity of being braced against the wall to catch her breath. “Do you need the couch or can you make it downstairs?” Azzi asks, and Paige furrows her eyebrows.

“Oh. Uh,” She pauses, looking around. Azzi swallows. She’d obviously planned to stay with her tonight.

The assumption that she would stay with Azzi would be sweet if she hadn’t left her hanging for hours, not texted, and then shown up drunk at midnight on a weeknight- if she hadn’t said they could talk tonight, and then completely stood her up. But she did.

“Come on. You probably wouldn’t make it down those stairs in once piece anyway.” She grumbles, grabbing Paige’s arm and guiding her to her bedroom. Paige starts to protest, but quickly drops it.

The younger girl makes sure Paige gets to the bed, and then turns to close the bedroom door. She pulls her robe off and drapes it back over her desk chair, Paige’s eyes tracking her movements intently.

“You look good, mama,” Paige draws, and Azzi scoffs. “Absolutely not, Paige Madison.” She clears, walking towards the bed, deliberate in staying out of Paige’s reach.

Paige’s eyebrows draw up in surprise, and Azzi stares at her incredulously, her clueless reaction making frustration flash in her chest.

“What? Did you drink so much you forgot we were supposed to talk?” Azzi asks, unable to help herself, and as soon as she says it, she regrets it.

She knows better than that, she should have waited until tomorrow to do this. It’s only going to cost them both sleep, and Paige probably won’t even remember it in a few hours.

Paige breathes heavily, leaning forward so her forearms are braced against her quads as she leans over, feet square on the ground. “Fuck, Az. ‘M sorry,”

Azzi bites at the inside of her cheek, weighing whether or not to engage further. “Seriously, Paige? What, you just spaced it?” Paige winces when she raises her voice. “No, I-“ She stops, holding her head.

She looks up at Azzi, squinting, even just from the normal lighting in her room. “We went out for dinner and a couple of drinks. I meant to text you, honest. We got caught up and…” She trails off, and Azzi’s mouth goes dry.

“And what, Paige?” She asks. The blonde groans next to her. “I’on even know,” She complains, hanging her head, and in any other situation, Azzi would sympathize more and pull her under the blankets, play with her hair and let her fall asleep on her chest.

But right now, tears are brimming her eyes and she can’t even bring herself to touch her hand. “You couldn’t even muster the presence of mind to have somebody else text? Or, god forbid, you couldn’t have just made it a priority to get back to me so we could have this stupid conversation?”

Paige's eyebrows furrow, looking up at her. “Wh’d’you mean, stupid conversation? If it’s about us and it’s important, how is it stupid?”

Azzi purses her lips, beyond frustrated that she can pick a fight over minced words but won’t actually address the problem that’s been hanging over them for months. “You tell me, Paige. You’re the one who couldn’t make it a priority.”

“I’m sorry, Az. You gotta understand, dude, I got a lot going on, and I was already upset-" Azzi laughs at that, throwing her hands up.

“You were upset? Paige, you barely even talked to me today. And then you stood me up when we were finally supposed to actually talk.”

“Whoa, you started the “barely talking” thing. You didn’t even answer my texts til practice was over the next morning.” Paige says, scooting back in the bed to lean against the wall and get further from Azzi. “Yeah, because I fell asleep. I told you that.” Azzi argues.

“Okay, well I tried to talk with you earlier, and you were too busy.” Paige stabs back. “No, Paige, I wasn’t “too busy”. I had classes. Classes I am trying to stay on top of so that you and I can have time together outside of the season and actually enjoy the last year we have together before who fucking knows what happens!”

Paige laughs. “Dude, you think I don’t understand that? That’s why I tried to get as many online classes as possible. You’re making me out to be this villain who like, doesn’t wanna be around you or something, and that’s not fuckin’ true. I’m trying so hard to be on top of classes and be a good leader for the team and keep myself in a good position to get to the league-“ Azzi cuts her off cold.

“Exactly, Paige! It’s always about the league. Your priority is always the league. And I get that that’s your dream- it’s my dream too. But fuck, Paige. It’s gonna fucking happen either way. You’ve been projected as first pick for over a year. We could bomb all season long and it wouldn’t matter- you’re getting to the W. I wish you could admit that it’s such a fucking given and focus on literally anything else for one goddamn minute.”

Paige scoffs, standing up, her blue eyes wide in disbelief. "Yes, Azzi, the league is my priority." She stares at the other girl dubiously, like she's trying to figure out why the hell that's coming as a shock. "If you don't understand that, maybe we're not doing what I thought we were doing here," She rushes out, gesturing loosely between them.

Her words send Azzi's head spinning, so much that she barely hears the next words out of her mouth.

"Going pro is everything we ever talked about. Getting drafted is foundational to the fucking life we always planned on. You being injured and not knowing when you’re declaring is fucking complicated and it weighs on you, I know. I’m sorry if you feel like I don’t focus on that enough." Anger rises in Azzi's throat at that, but Paige is quick to resume her point, not giving her a chance to verbalize it.

"It's not that I don’t care- but that only adds to the importance of me getting my foot in the door to ensure we have a good fucking life set up.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Azzi mutters, looking at the blonde in disbelief. "What, you think because I’m too fucking fragile you need to get into the league so we can ensure a paycheck?"

Her eyes sting as tears begin to well, threatening to fall. "You think I’m that incapable? That weak?" She asks, looking up at Paige from where she sits on the bed, her voice breaking.

Paige sighs, working her jaw, resolve clearly fractured by Azzi’s reaction. “No, Azzi, that’s not what I-“

“You have that little faith in my future?” Azzi asks, drawing into herself as she leans against her headboard, her arms crossing over her chest. Tears run over and fall down her face now, bottom lip quivering in a way that makes Paige’s stomach churn.

Paige moves to get closer to her, her movements still a little bit sluggish, despite how much the argument had sobered her up. “No, baby, hey-“ She reaches for her hand, and Azzi quickly pulls away, shoving at her to put distance between them.

Paige is taken aback, sitting down on the foot of the bed. “Whoa, hey,” She says, trying to soothe the other girl, but Azzi is inconsolable. She hasn’t felt this betrayed, this misconstrued since she was a child. She had definitely not ever felt this way by Paige’s hand, and she didn’t think she ever would.

The self doubt and concern about coming back from this injury was something that weighed on her constantly- and she’d gotten good at hiding it, sure. Sometimes she was so good she even almost fooled herself.

But it was there. It lived deep in her chest, a voice that spoke to her every time she missed a shot in the gym she knew she should have made.

It kept her awake at night, even with Paige’s body pressed against hers, sound asleep. It was the reason she spent so much time wondering if she was even good enough to make it to the league at all- if she’d even deserved to come to UCONN, if she’d pulled her weight since being there.

Although the comment the other girl had made about their relationship maybe “not doing what she’d thought” had hurt, the mere thought of Paige questioning her abilities made her want to crawl into a hole and die.

“Azzi, that is not what I was trying to say,” Paige promises, leaning closer to try and get Azzi to focus on her rather than whatever thoughts she was quite evidently spinning in her head.

“Hey, look at me, Az,” Paige tries again, reaching to touch her face. Azzi flinches away from the contact, wiping at her face furiously. “Just go.” She says, sniffling as she leans away from the blonde.

Paige watches her with her mouth just barely open, unable to come up with a response. “Wh- don’t you think we need to talk about this?” She tries, but the other girls’ mind is made up, withdrawn from the conversation.

“I don’t wanna argue with you anymore, Paige. Just go, I’m serious.” She says, her voice small. Paige sighs, running her hands over her face.

She can’t just leave when Azzi looks so sad like this. "Come on, Az." She pleads. “That’s not what I meant, can we just-“

“Paige, I want to be left alone. Can we please just not?” Azzi croaks, pulling a pillow over her chest and furthering the barriers between the two girls. The blonde wets her lips, starting to reply and then stopping, not sure where to pivot from here.

“It’s not like it matters, anyway.” Azzi mutters, wiping at her nose. Paige’s expression drops, eyebrows knitting together as she looks at the other girl.

“Doesn’t matter? To who? What is that even supposed to mean?” She asks, hurt rising in her chest.

Azzi looks up at her, her eyes puffy from crying, her expression exhausted. “Come on, Paige. We’ve been arguing over this for months, we’re not going to magically stumble upon a solution tonight.” She says, her voice scratchy- and Paige can’t tell if its from being tired or from crying. “You’re not even sober.”

Paige stares at her, indignant at the suggestion that she wasn’t sober enough to defend her career and fight for their relationship. If Azzi was going to take dirty hits, she wasn’t going to let what she’d said go.

“Who does it not matter to, Azzi?” She repeats. Azzi narrows her eyes, scoffing at the blonde in disbelief. “I’m not doing this with you right now.” She states, getting off the bed and walking across the room to put distance between them.

Paige follows suit, getting to her feet and standing behind her, refusing to let her walk away. "I asked you a question.” She states, insistent, and Azzi turns around, adamant brown eyes meeting stubborn blue.

“No, Paige.” She says firmly. Her inflexible tone only ramps the blonde up further. “What do you mean, “no”? We’re having a conversation.”

“Not anymore, we’re not." She shuts her down simply. "Azzi." Paige prompts.

"You know I don’t like when you get like this.” Azzi says, staring daggers at her before pushing past to get around her. “Azzi.”

Paige turns her body with the movement and grabs for her wrist. Azzi pulls away hard, like her flesh is burning in the blonde’s grip. “No, Paige. I’m done. Go home.”

Frustrated tears fall silently down her pale cheeks, and she wipes at them with the back of her hand, only irritated further by their presence.

“You’re ‘done’?” She asks, incredulous, a scoff ripping its way up from the back of her throat. Loose strands of blonde hair that came undone from her bun throughout the drunken activities of the night frame the desperate look on her face.

Azzi crosses her arms, keeping distance between them. “I’m serious, Paige. Go.” She repeats, and Paige wants to scream. Her mind is moving too fast and too slow at the same time- she doesn’t know if she should storm out, raise her voice, or drop to her knees and beg Azzi to let her stay and try and make up.

As soon as that mental image crosses her mind, anger flashes in her chest at the fact she’d thought it in the first place. She hadn’t even done anything wrong aside from getting drunk when she shouldn't have. Why was she being crucified for trying to make a life for them?

Was she the only one who’d meant it all the times they’d talked about getting to the league, building a family, and living on the coast?

The anger in her chest bubbles over, and she can’t even see straight. “You know what, Azzi? Fine. Maybe its better off that way, anyway. We both could stand to lock in this year, without any distractions.” She spits.

Before Azzi can get her mouth to open, she's closing the door behind herself- and then she's gone.

Hey y’all! Here's a little something I've been working on. This is part 1 of multiple, idk how many yet. This chapter is really just to set up the rest of the story- the rest from here on out will be a lot more fun, I promise. This was not beta’d at all, so be warned! Any comments/shares/love is sooo appreciated. Thank you and I really hope you guys enjoy!

[covenofagatha]

Hi! I’m new here! Idk if you are taking requests rn but umm, do you think maybe you could write the filthiest smut where Agatha is obsessed with readers pussy and after she pulls out she like holds her open just to watch her convulse and throb and watch everything seep out and she just talks about how perfect her pussy is? And then maybe reader has a biiiiiig thing for Agatha’s titties and can’t get enough of them in her mouth and falls asleep sucking on them for comfort? If not it’s okay I totally get it. Your fics do more for me than any other fics I’ve read 🙈

This was a hot request tbh so thank you! Hope it's as filthy as you wanted it to be

Title is Lana Del Rey song because coming up with titles are the bane of my existence and it kind of works

Cherry Cola

Agatha comes home after being away on a work trip for a week and you two have some catching up to do

Word count: 2400

Warnings: porn, literally pure filth and smut, girl penis agatha, cum fixation, fingering, sex, mommy kink, nipple fixation, slight nursing kink, so much dirty talk, think this is all

You’ve been perpetually horny for a week straight and it’s all your girlfriend’s fault. 

She left on Sunday for a work trip and as she kissed you goodbye, told you that, under no circumstances at all, were you allowed to touch yourself until she was back on Saturday. 

You thought it wouldn’t be that much of a challenge, since she wouldn’t be here constantly turning you on. 

And then the texts started. The photos. The videos. 

Messages like I wanna fuck you so bad and Need to fill you with my cum and watch it leak out of you and God I miss your tight pretty pink pussy so much filled your phone and she would send accompanying pictures and recordings of her hard and leaking cock or of the mess she made after she came. 

Your particular favorite was a video of her furiously stroking her cock by the hotel window and splattering her cum all over it. Her grunts are still ingrained in your mind. 

After a week of those, you were slowly going out of your mind, constantly having to change your underwear, but never once touching yourself. 

Even though it was literal torture. 

But it’s finally Saturday, and you are vibrating with need while you wait for Agatha to come home. She hasn’t told you when she’ll get there, so you pace restlessly around the kitchen for most of the day, trying and failing to distract yourself with something. 

You’ve never been so turned on in your life, and Agatha has never let you go this long without an orgasm. 

And then finally, finally, you hear the key turning in the lock and the front door opening. 

Agatha barely makes it into the foyer before you pounce, slamming her back against the wall and kissing her. You’re already wet just from that when she sweeps her tongue into your mouth and switches positions to pin your arms up. 

“Did you miss me, baby?” She asks amusedly, tugging your bottom lip between her teeth. 

“So much, Aggie,” you say, squirming against her restraint. You just need to feel her against you. 

She tightens her grip with a smirk and looks you up and down in your desperate state. “Were you a good girl while mommy was gone?” 

You nod and groan. “I didn’t touch myself, no thanks to what you sent. You were killing me.” 

“So good for me, doll. You’ll do anything I say, won’t you? You want my cock inside you?” 

You bite your lip, eyes dropping to the tent in her pants. All you can think about is having her inside you. It’s not a want anymore, it’s a completely all-consuming need. 

She grabs your chin in her hand and roughly tilts you up to make eye contact. “Use your words, baby. Tell mommy what you want.” 

You swallow thickly, desire holding your brain hostage. “I want you,” you rasp and she raises an eyebrow, urging you on. Her fingers slide down to your throat as a warning. “I want your cock inside me. I want to feel you throbbing and twitching because of me and I want you to fill me up like only you can. Fill up my perfect pussy that belongs to you. Feel you drip out of me cause I love it when you cum inside me.” 

You’ve been with Agatha long enough to know exactly what she loves to hear. And she loves to hear filthy, explicit details, especially about your cunt. Which you loved to provide.

Before her, you had never really been one to voice your desires. It made you feel embarrassed, almost. 

But with Agatha, she wants to hear every single dirty thing on your mind. It had taken some getting used to at first, but when you realized what to say, and the effect it had on both of you, you couldn’t believe you’d never done it before. 

Agatha moans at your words and drags you in for a hot kiss, her tongue moving against yours and staking her claim of your mouth. It’s like she’s trying to invade your body through your lips and you let her. 

The hand around your throat slides down your stomach and dips under the waistband of your pants and you whimper when she touches you over your underwear. 

“God, have you been this soaked the entire week?” She asks with a taunting laugh and your cheeks flush. 

But she isn’t wrong. “I went through so many pairs of underwear,” you admit quietly and her smirk gets even bigger. 

“Well, we better do something about that, don’t you think?” 

“Please, mommy, need you to fuck me,” you beg and she grabs your hand and drags you up the stairs and to the bedroom. The ache inside you has grown into a gaping cavern. 

Agatha puts you onto the bed and makes quick work of unbuttoning her shirt and unclasping her bra. She shimmies off her pants and you do the same, throwing your clothes somewhere across the room. 

Your eyes immediately fall to your girlfriend’s breasts. 

You may or may not have a huge thing about them. 

They’re perky and so soft and there’s something about having her nipple in your mouth that makes you feel at peace with the world. 

She sees you looking. “Want to suck on mommy?” 

The question makes even more heat flare through you but you only have one thing on your mind right now. 

Her cock. 

Which is harder than a rock, precum dripping off it, and standing at attention pointing right toward you.

You shake your head. “Maybe later, just want you inside me now.” 

She growls and crawls on the bed to you, grabbing your legs and yanking so you’re flat on your back. You gasp, waiting for her to push into you, but instead you feel her fingers stroking through your folds. 

“God, I’ve missed your perfect pussy,” she sighs, teasing at your entrance. Your hips roll to try to get her inside, but she collects your wetness and circles your clit with it. 

“Mommy,” you whine, needier than ever. 

She shushes you. “I know, sweetheart, but be a good girl and let mommy play with you for a bit. I’ve missed your pretty pink cunt so much this past week.” 

You bite your lip but noises still slip out as she fucks two fingers into easily and twists them. She scissors them to stretch you out, grinning when your back arches off the bed. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight and wet and warm around me,” she says, curling her fingers just right. “Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock. You always feel so good squeezing around me, just need to fill you up and watch mommy’s love drip out of you.”

You keen at the visual, a light sheen breaking out over your body. She’s still fucking you with her fingers and you’re panting, babbling for more. 

“Are you ready for my cock?” She asks and you immediately whimper, making her laugh. 

“Please, mommy, need you to fuck me,” you say, your head spinning with want. 

“What do you want?” She gets into position, grabbing her cock and stroking it, spreading her precum up and down her length. You get sidetracked watching her hips jerk forward and you moan loudly when she leans down to rub her tip against your clit. 

Your head twists to the side as she begins to move herself up and down, coating her cock with your wetness, each time coming back up to move around your clit. Agatha lets out little gasps at the feeling and it’s only doing more to spur you on. 

“Aggie, please, please, please,” you cry, and she pushes just the tip in. You squirm to try and get more of her in you, but she pauses and just admires the sight. 

“Fuck, baby doll, you look so nice like this. Might have to take some pictures of my cock stretching you out for the next time I have to go away for so long,” she says and you clench around her. She, of course, notices and smirks. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

“Anything you want, mommy, just please fuck me!” 

She tuts at your impatience, but pushes in and bottoms out nonetheless. Your mouth opens at the not unpleasant stretch but nothing comes out and Agatha moans at the feeling of your walls around her again. Her hands scramble for purchase on your hips so she’s able to angle you up and she can slide in deeper. 

“Fuck,” she swears in a low voice and you think you get wetter. Hearing her so affected by you is always a massive turn-on. She starts slowly rutting into you, never pulling out very much like it would be a pain to leave your cunt. “Been too long, I missed this. You feel so good stretched around me.” 

She positions herself over you so she can kiss you as she begins to move in and out of you more. You have to continuously break away from her mouth though because she keeps hitting that perfect spongy spot inside you like always and it feels too good. 

Your head drops back against the pillow beneath you and your eyes roll back in your head from the way she’s fucking you. 

Agatha always knows exactly what you need and she always gives it to you. And based on the way she’s breathing, she’s getting exactly what she needs, too. 

You become distracted by the movement of her breasts with every push and you can’t help yourself from grabbing them with your hands. When you brush over her nipples, you can feel her pulse inside you and her rhythm stutters for a moment. 

“There you go, baby, play with mommy’s boobs,” she mutters, putting more effort into regaining her speed than talking loudly. But her mouth is right next to your ear so you hear her clearly. You roll her nipples between your fingers, tugging whenever she gives you a particularly rough thrust. 

You can feel her throbbing inside you and you know she’s getting close. Which is perfect, because you are, too. You know she can feel you clenching when she deliciously drags her cock against your walls and tiny noises from both of you fill the air. 

“Fuck, baby, mommy’s going to cum in your pussy,” she groans, her drives becoming shorter and shallower. You reach down to rub at your clit to push yourself over the finish line but she slaps your hand away and her thumb takes its place.

You’re so close. 

“Need you to cum inside me, need to feel it,” you blather and her whole body stiffens and her breathing gets tighter. She goes silent for a moment before letting out a long moan, and you feel her throb inside you before a warmth spreads. 

Her cum inside you triggers your orgasm and you tip off the edge of the precipice and pleasure explodes through your body. Cumming for the first time in a week is like dying and going to heaven, only to be revived by an angel. 

The moment you come down, Agatha pulls out and quickly moves down your body. 

This is her favorite part. 

She maneuvers your legs so they’re bent with your feet on the bed and spreads your cunt lips open with her fingers. You gasp when you feel her cum start to ooze out and Agatha’s nails dig into your thigh at the sight. 

“God, baby, look at that,” she says in awe. She collects it on two fingers and holds it up so you can see. Your lips part involuntarily and she reaches back down to wrap her hand around her cock and start lightly stroking. 

Your throat suddenly feels dry at the image of Agatha doing that and you lightly cough. 

A glob of her cum splatters out of you and Agatha groans lustfully, hips lurching forward. 

“Your fucking pussy,” she says. “So fucking perfect and pretty for me. I fucking love watching my cum seep out of you after I ruin you.” 

You can’t help but moan when she takes her hand off her cock and begins spreading her seed all over your pussy lips, absolutely smearing it everywhere like she’s marking you. 

“God, Agatha,” you whimper when she begins to rub at your clit. Your walls squeeze and it sends more of her cum trickling out, which is her plan. 

“It’s so hot seeing you covered with me,” she sighs and begins to circle you even faster, not penetrating you at all so when you start to convulse, her cum can flow right out. And it does; you can feel it leak and you can hear Agatha’s sharp breaths. 

You cum again, making a huge mess all over the bed and Agatha, who doesn’t mind one bit. 

She gets you a warm towel to clean your pussy and you lay on the bed, eyes closing, while she gets you a change of clothes. 

“How was that, baby?” She asks, helping you put on pajamas. She puts on sweats and an oversized purple flannel. 

You moan happily, immediately flocking to her side once she lays down next to you. “So good,” you answer, taking your rightful place on her shoulder with her arm wrapped around you. “Missed you so much.” 

She kisses your head and gently plays with the ends of your hair. “I missed you too, baby. Might have to take you with me next time.” 

You nod eagerly. “Hide me in your hotel room and fuck me all day and night,” you add and she chuckles. You shift a little, unsure of how to ask for what you need right now. 

But she notices your loaded silence and can put two and two together based on what you usually need after she’s been gone awhile. 

Without saying a word, she slowly starts to unbutton her flannel with one hand and you quickly help her to open it. 

“So needy for mommy,” she remarks but you can’t find it in you to care because her chest is bare to the world and so are your favorite things. 

You contentedly suck one of her nipples into your mouth and suckle on it, hand coming up to lazily play with the other one. 

Agatha moans softly when your tongue flicks around her and that’s how you fall asleep. 

With her nipple in your mouth, feeling perfectly fucked and fulfilled. 

[hannieehaee]

How about when wonu goes to meet up with reader's whole family for the first time but he notices how the reader's aunts/uncles keep body shaming her casually and even though the reader is uncomfy she doesn't say anything. What would wonu's reaction be like?

content: bf!wonwoo, mentions of negative talk from family, hurt with comfort, fluff, etc.

wc: 511

a/n: very short but i found the concept very cute!!

masterlist

the car ride was filled with silence. it'd been a while since either of you had last spoken.

usually, this would be comfortable silence. but this time around, it felt like there was an extra weight behind it.

you knew it was your fault, but you simply couldn't get yourself to speak.

you were quietly thankful that wonwoo had taken that first step.

"are you okay?", he asked, eyes turning to your for a few seconds before going back to the road ahead.

you don't respond. you feel like a child, but you don't.

wonwoo waits a beat or two before speaking again.

"i'm sorry."

and that throws you for a loop.

you sit up from your slouched position, now allowing your body language to open itself up to him. you face him as he drives, curiosity in your eyes.

"why are you sorry?"

"i should've stood up for you," his voice is soft, worried, "i didn't know if it was my place. i've never met your family before, but i'm your boyfriend. i should've said something."

before he's finished, you're shaking your head. there was no argument here.

"what? wonwoo, no. you didn't do anything wrong. i'm sorry if i-"

"you know none of it is true, right?", his eyes found you again, taking turns between you and the road, "your aunts, uncles. hell, even your mom. they were all out of place," he reassured.

you went quiet again. your hands itched. it was a bad habit, to pick at your nails, at your skin, but you couldn't help it. you looked down at your hands as you did it.

then suddenly, a larger hand appeared and held onto them, squeezing comfort into them.

"does this happen often?", he hesitated.

"sometimes. i tune it out mostly. it was just ... i didn't think they'd do it in front of you," you shrugged sadly.

"i don't believe any of it," he reassured, "i hope you know that. i think you're perfect."

keeping a hold on his hands, you caressed them in a thankful manner.

"i know, wonwoo," you smiled back at him.

silence filled up the car again, but this time it was comfortable. comforting, even.

"i'm not mad at you, wonwoo," you decided to clarify.

"i know, baby. but, still. i should've stood up for you. said something, anything."

the insistence made you smile. it was nice to know you had him in your corner. that any offense to you felt like offense to him.

"i might have to fight your uncle next time we visit," he jested, "your parents are out of the question, but your uncle? i think i could take him."

the silly man puffed up his chest to prove his point, pulling a laugh out of you. the first one this night.

"hey, that's better," he mirrored your smile, "that's the only thing i wanna see for the rest of the night."

and that wouldn't be a difficult feat. not when wonwoo constantly ensured to extinguish your sadness any time it made an appearance in your life.

[auroracalisto]

to call you mine.

anthony bridgerton x gn!reader, 2.4k words summary: anthony comes to the realization that perhaps he needs you more than just a few times a month. can be read as a standalone, but it is a continuation of this short fic here. tw: reader comes from a poorer background which is discussed in the first half of this, mentions of scandals, anxious thoughts, idk man i don't think there really needs to be a tw for this. not really edited though so there may be a few mistakes i missed on my initial two read-throughs. :-)

"I beg you," you softly said. "I beg you to stay, just 'til tomorrow." He looked back at you as he finished buttoning up his shirt, grabbing his trousers from the end of the bed and pulling them on rather quickly. "Y/n, you know I can't do that," he said. "As much as I wish I could." He crossed the threshold to be beside of you, taking your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I do wish I could. But it's not going to happen. Not today." read the full blurb here.

Scandalous. Unworthy. Only the words of a scandalized mind haunted your every step.

Compared to your lover, you were a simpleton—gullible, unready for the truth that the world was so willing to give. The truth that you weren't worthy of Anthony Bridgerton. A Viscount. Someone of your status wouldn't come close to being with a Viscount, no matter how much pining you did to try and get him to stay with you longer than the early hours of the morning.

You knew this. And yet, your heart pined for him. Your heart ached for him.

Day in and day out, you wished for him to stay just a bit longer. Just a bit longer, in your arms. In your bed. In the warmth of your embrace.

Oh, God, what you would give to have Anthony until your dying breath.

But the world wasn't fair. The 'ton did as it would, and if any suspected Anthony had been with you, the repercussions would be immense. Perhaps not for Anthony, but for you.

Your family would never hear the end of it. You would be scandalized until the end of your days.

You would be happy just to be beside of him. To breathe the same air as he.

We never get what we truly want, do we, dear reader?

The sanctity of your bedroom, despite how run down in may be, was all you'd share with Anthony. It seemed as if that was the only moment in time when you could share your body with his, your thoughts with his, your heart with his.

It would never be enough.

You came from a less than savory background. Your mother married for love instead of status, and married a simple printer from the slums of London.

Happy, yes, but the money wasn't what your mother was used to. At times, it seemed to go up and missing, and it would lead to arguments between your parents. As much as they loved each other, it did not help that they could not agree... financially.

But nonetheless, when the time was right and your mother was able to scrounge together enough money for a new dress and a new set of clothes for you, the two of you walked through the 'ton. She'd go and visit her mother, whom would accept her with open arms unless her father was around. She'd walk the same path as the Bridgertons' and Featheringtons' and ignore the questioning looks that were sent her way. She was after all a mysterious woman—to them, at least.

A woman who married for love. A woman who married a printer. How incredulous to think about for those of the 'ton. When it first happened, the scandal was immense.

And now, it seemed, you were in the same boat. Not wanting to marry for money but wanting to marry for love.

Love of the one and only Viscount Bridgerton. The one who could hardly look at you in the daylight, only seeking your comforts when the moon was high in the sky.

Today was one of the days that your mother finally had a new dress. It was quite charming, the deep green fabric complimenting her skin quite nicely. Your outfit was equally charming, in the color of your choice.

"Darling," your mother said, grabbing onto your arm as the two of you walked the path through the 'ton. You could remember the last time you had walked this path, nearly two months ago.

How time had flown since then.

The time spent with Anthony not only haunting your bed but your heart as well.

"Look," she said, squeezing your flesh with warm fingers. She doesn't point, but she nudges you and motions with her head.

Your eyes flickered towards where she directed, and you could feel your heart plummet.

Anthony Bridgerton and his family were out for a stroll. His brother seemed rather amused over something, even going as far as calling his brother's name.

You looked at your mother, feeling rather... ridiculous for how nervous you felt.

"We should keep walking, mother," you said.

"Nonsense! Long ago, I was quite close to Violet Bridgerton. I'd like to say hello, Y/n."

"But mother—"

"—it is not often that I allow myself a stroll through the 'ton. The carriage out is an expense in itself, Y/n. Please. Allow me to say hello to an old friend."

You paused, a soft frown on your lips. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry mother."

She let out a soft sigh and patted your arm, giving a small nod. She continued to walk forward with you.

When Violet Bridgerton spotted the two of you, she began to smile.

She called your mother's name and immediately left her children's side, coming to the woman she had once called a dear friend.

"Oh, my, how lovely you look!" Violet hugged your mother tightly once she had let go of your arm.

You stood to the side, eyes flickering from your mother to Violet. Then, when you believed it was safe, you glanced towards the bane of your existence—Anthony Bridgerton.

He was looking.

Your eyes widened a bit and you quickly looked away.

Just a few nights before had he been in your bed, looking at you with those delicious brown eyes. Just a few nights before had he ravished your body, looking at you as if you were the diamond he had been searching for all his life.

You could barely look at him without becoming flustered.

As Violet and your mother spoke, you hardly paid attention. Only when your mother said your name did you properly look to them.

"Remember Y/n?" your mother asked.

Violet smiled. "Oh, my," she said. "They certainly have grown, hm? I remember when they were just a little thing. How old are you, now, dear? Close to Daphne's age, yes?"

You blinked slowly and mutter out an answer.

Violet heard anyway. "Well," she softly said. "You are a beauty, through and through. Your mother was always quite beautiful growing up. You are lucky to have that with you, dear."

You weakly smiled. "Thank you, Lady Bridgerton."

Violet smiled softly at your politeness. She looked back at your mother. "Come. Walk with my family. There is much I'd like to talk to you about before you go and hide for the next few months, friend."

Your mother didn't look at you as she happily agreed. You would have protested, but the excited look on her face made you hesitate.

You could deal with being near the one you secretly loved if it meant your mother would be happy, even if momentarily.

The sun is high in the sky as the two of you walk towards Violet's family.

You see as Anthony's brother, the one you believe to be Benedict, nudges him rather roughly. Anthony looked to you, face paling at the sight of you.

He had promised you only nights before that you would see him again soon. You supposed he kept his promise, if not crudely done.

You could hardly look at him as you walked along with your mother, looking anywhere but him.

His sister, Eloise, is the one who comes to stand beside of you.

"You are Y/n," Eloise blurted, looking at you with wide, curious eyes. It wasn't often she met one of her brother's conquests—hell, she wasn't even sure if he knew she had found out. Eloise is rather... studious when she wants to be, when it comes to her brothers.

You blinked slowly as you looked at her. "I... I am, yes."

Eloise let out a soft hum, looking over her shoulder. Anthony is staring, saying something out of earshot to Benedict. Eloise then looked out towards the path as they walked.

"It is nice to have a name to the face," she said. "It is often that I only hear your name and have nothing more to go by."

You blinked slowly. "How did you—"

"—he speaks of you," she quickly said. "Often."

"He does?"

Your voice is small—weak, even. As if you couldn't believe the words you were hearing.

"Yes," Eloise said, a humble smile on her lips. "He does."

Benedict Bridgerton looked to his brother, a not-so-subtle grin on his lips. "You act as if you have never been in love, brother."

"I haven't," Anthony said, walking along the path. He looked towards Y/n and her mother as they walked alongside of his mother.

"Why do you lie?" Benedict teased. "It is as if you have never been so in-tune with your own feelings than now. You know you have been in love. You are staring at the very object of your affections, and yet you are letting them slip right through your fingertips."

He looked back at his brother, going to protest, but it dies on his lips. He knows he is right.

He has told Y/n far too many times that he would go back to them—that he would see them soon enough, that he would ravish them on another night.

He has told Y/n far too many times that he needed to return to his family before morning.

He was a Viscount, for god's sake. He could do as he pleased.

But something within him didn't want to do as he pleased just because of that. He wanted more. He wanted more from Y/n, from himself. From the love he knew he could create with them.

He would be better. For them. For himself, and for his family.

Days passed by rather quickly. It was as if your lonely nights had blurred into one. Not that you were complaining. How could you? The longer time passed, the sooner you would see Anthony once more.

In the early hours of an especially difficult night, the knock at your window is unmistakable.

How childish it was for him to throw pebbles at your window to get your attention. It was as if he hadn't grown, despite being at the right age of nine and twenty.

You go to your window and look down, seeing none other than Anthony Bridgerton. You open the window to peer down at him, a deep frown on your lips.

"Anthony—"

"—please, Y/n," he said, almost desperate. The way he says your name makes you melt. "We need to talk. Now."

You blinked slowly and stared at him for almost a solid minute. You reach over and grab a shawl to keep over your shoulders as you walked to the back entrance, where Anthony would greet you like he did so many other times.

But this time, the greeting was a deep and hungry kiss, hands cupping your cheeks as if he'd not had a comforting touch in a hundred years.

You let out a noise of surprise, nearly losing your grasp on your shawl as you kiss him back, eyes fluttering shut.

When he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, he spoke.

"I need you," he said.

"Anthony..."

"No," he said. "You do not understand what I am saying, Y/n. I need you like I've—oh, I've never needed anyone as bad as what I need you. Not just your body. Not just—not just your lips, love. I need—I need all of you."

You stared up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"The last you saw of me. I said you wouldn't be happy with me. I—I hope that it is merely a lie of mine. The way I would burn the 'ton to the ground just to have you by my side—you have no idea what I would do for you."

You just listened as he spoke, wide eyed and breathing heavily.

"You asked me to stay. Stay 'til tomorrow. Y/n, I... I cannot do that unless you become mine. Completely mine. And I—I do not wish to part from you. Parting from you is like parting from a vice that I didn't know I needed. I need you more than I ever believed possible." Anthony licked his lips, looking down at you. His hands cupped your cheeks once more, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. "I do not wish to be parted from you any more than I have been."

"And how will you do that?" you asked, gently grabbing onto his forearms as he looked into your eyes. "You said it yourself. You cannot stay with me."

He shook his head, resting his forehead against yours. "I will make it work. I am a Viscount, and my sister is the Duchess of Hastings. The things that I can do will solve all the problems we may face... if you'll have me, of course."

You swallowed nervously as you watched him. "But the scandal—"

"—to hell with the scandals, Y/n," he said. "I would face a hundred of them if it meant that I could see your face morning, noon, and night. I would face a hundred more just to be able to call you mine."

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Not as desperate as the one from before, but still just as powerful.

"Please. I know what I said, and I am sorry for being so foolish. You are the one I want, the one I need. My heart yearns for yours, Y/n."

"What are you asking me, Anthony?"

"I am asking you to marry me, Y/n. Marry me, and I will never leave you alone. Not like I have."

"You wish for me to marry you?"

"More than anything I've ever wished for," he softly said.

"Even though I am not of... of proper standing?"

"You are proper enough," he said, a small smile quirking on his lips.

You let out a soft huff, eyes searching his, before you find yourself nodding in return.

"I will marry you, but only with one condition," you said.

His eyes widened a bit. "Yes, of course. What is it?"

"Do not leave my side. When we are together, do not leave unless it is absolutely necessary. I do not know if I could handle it if you were to leave me to my lonesome," you said. "You have already done so, far too many times."

He smiled down at you, pressing yet another kiss to your lips. "I promise."

"No. Swear it."

He pulled back, tilting his head. "I swear it, Y/n. I will do no such thing for as long as I breathe."

tagging: @captainsophiestark @fall-outgirl219 @bowti3esrc00l

[wingedshadowfan]

tw: the scene where caitlyn and maddie are in bed together

a friend is rewatching arcane s2 rn and pointed out that even though it's very dark and kind of hard to tell, the room caitlyn and maddie are in in that scene doesn't look like caitlyn's room!!

now this might be a false alarm but if it isn't, here's what that implies:

caitlyn didn't let maddie into her actual bed (we all cheered!). now i very seriously doubt they're in maddie's house for reasons of wealth and convenience, which means there are like three possible ways things could've gone down w/ caitlyn and maddie sleeping together.

1) most likely caitlyn (and maddie, individually) took a guest bedroom somewhere in the council building, which means she's been so busy with the zaun invasion in pursuit of jinx, she literally hasn't been home and sleeping in her own bed (which is just sad because it implies overworking herself and disconnecting with her home and family, even the memory of the mother she's trying to avenge)

2) if this is just another room in caitlyn's house (which would be crazy, just imagine caitlyn's dad meeting maddie), has caitlyn been sleeping in her own bed when she's by herself and only going to this guest bedroom when maddie is with her?? that must've been so inconvenient and awkward to establish between them lol

3) if this is just another room in caitlyn's house and she hasn't been using it only when she's with maddie, that would imply she had the opportunity to sleep in her own bed (even without maddie) and she chose not to. could it be that after her fight with vi, caitlyn hasn't been sleeping in her own room in general because of the memories they shared there together?

i think 1) is the most likely, followed by 3) and then 2).

and lastly, let's remember that after the explosion that injures vi, caitlyn is sick with worry for her. jinx just surrenders and caitlyn can't even decide what to do with her - she's too worried abt vi recovering and likely wants it to be her decision too, having seen their family bond and truly understood now.

caitlyn most likely takes vi to a hospital/doctor and then takes her to her house, so she can ensure her safety. caitlyn who's been so busy she hasn't been sleeping in her own bed, is calling the enforcers out of zaun, and is preparing for war lets an injured vi sleep in her bed immediately, even before they've talked things out between them (which means a lot, esp if she never let maddie into her bed, or if she had right until now).

moreover, in the scene where vi wakes up and we see loris has been taking care of her too, we also see a bunch of throw pillows on the other side of the bed next to vi. they're obviously not for him. caitlyn has been sitting (not sleeping) there, taking care of vi even with everything else going on. waiting for her to wake up so she can make the call for what happens to jinx. true fucking love or whatever.

symbolically, caitlyn either returns to her house, to herself and her family (after seeing the love in vi's), to what matters, in order to take care of vi and because she's not commander anymore, at least not in the original intended way once jinx is captured and she calls off the zaun invasion, or she's still in a council bedroom because there's yet much work to do but has been finding time to come home and take care of vi despite that.

i also want to point out another thing. when vi wakes up and comes to confront caitlyn abt imprisoning jinx (which, honestly, is better than letting a random enforcer kill her or have her cause more damage which is what could've happened if she'd let her go, which caitlyn eludes to), maddie is already there in the room with caitlyn but we only see one chair. maddie isn't meant to be there in caitlyn's house. she isn't meant to sit down and make herself comfortable. (and yes, we see two chairs when ambessa comes to talk to caitlyn but it's also intentional what gets shown when). when caitlyn tells her, "check on my father?" and dismisses her before she has the chance to interact with vi, she means this is all her relationship w/ maddie is to her. and in the very end of the show when we see vi humming her mother's song to herself, she's in the same room. there are two chairs there now.

i'm so fucked but this is all speculation.

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

I just love your yandere Dick and Kori!

But... Imagine if the reader soon became pregnant, how would they behave then??

Yandere Nightwing x reader x yandere Starfire

Dick and Kori are always hovering around you now, never letting you out of their sight. They’re overly attentive, always making sure you’re comfortable, but it comes with an unspoken rule—you can’t do anything without them. Whether it’s Dick gently guiding you to the couch, insisting you rest, or Kori practically hovering while she makes sure you’re hydrated and well-fed, they’ve made it clear that you’re their responsibility now.

Dick becomes more protective than ever. He’s constantly reminding you that you need to be careful and to avoid any kind of stress, even if it’s the smallest thing. He can’t stand the thought of anything bad happening to you or the baby. He checks your surroundings, makes sure your seat is comfortable, and even gets touchy about who’s around you—no one else is allowed to get too close, even in a friendly way. If anyone does, you’ll see a warning look in his eyes, and Kori will back him up with that unrelenting smile, reminding everyone that you’re their darling.

Kori, while sweet and affectionate as always, becomes even more of a doting presence. She’s always checking in, brushing your hair back from your face, and showering you with kisses. She’ll insist on feeding you herself or holding your hand at all times. Her gentle demeanor hides a possessive edge—she’s almost too eager to care for you and the baby, constantly making sure you’re comfortable. If anyone else tries to get involved, even with the best of intentions, Kori will immediately step in, her radiant smile hiding a simmering jealousy.

As your pregnancy progresses, both Dick and Kori isolate you more and more. They become the only two people you need—at least in their eyes. They slowly start limiting your interactions with the outside world. You’re no longer allowed to hang out with friends unless it’s with one of them by your side. They’ve decided that only they know what’s best for you and the baby, and anyone else who gets too close will feel the full weight of their possessiveness. Any attempt to talk to other people about your pregnancy is met with gentle, but firm, reminders that they’re the only ones who can truly care for you.

Both of them start getting lost in the idea of the baby. Dick talks about all the things he’s going to do as a father—always with a glint of possessiveness in his voice, saying things like “I’ll teach them everything,” or “They’re going to be just like me.” Kori is just as enamored, though her obsession takes a more nurturing turn. She talks about the future constantly, planning what the baby will do, what they’ll like, how they’ll be raised with all the love they could possibly give. To them, the pregnancy isn’t just about you—it’s about the family they’re building, and they’re both determined that no one will ever come between them, you, and their child.

Their affection becomes almost too much to bear, but in the best way possible—if you can overlook the overbearing tendencies. They both give you kisses and reassurances constantly, never letting you feel alone. Dick’s protectiveness is accompanied by gentle touches, his hand always resting on your stomach or keeping you close to his side. Kori, on the other hand, will often wrap you in a hug, resting her head on yours as she whispers about how happy she is. In their eyes, the three of you are already a perfect family, and they want you to feel the same way.

Though they’re always so loving, the jealousy they both feel is palpable. If anyone else shows the slightest bit of interest in you or the pregnancy, you’ll see the tension rise in their eyes. Dick might casually place a hand on your waist or lock eyes with someone who’s talking to you, subtly making it clear that you belong to him. Kori, ever the affectionate one, will become more clingy in response, draping herself over you, constantly brushing her lips over your cheek, and giving a look to anyone who dares to linger too long around you.

Together, Dick and Kori are a force to be reckoned with. They’re sweet, tender, and affectionate—but their possessiveness over you, especially now that you’re pregnant, is undeniable. They want nothing more than to keep you safe, to care for you, and to make sure that no one else can have you or your baby.

[jarofstyles]

Robins Egg - Indigo 8

…. Hi. It’s been 800 years but I realized I never posted this update! So here we are.

Check out our Patreon for early access and over 200+ exclusive writings, with multiple updates a week!

WC- 4.8k

Warnings- slight angst, fluff, Mention of anxiety, H being slightly oblivious

Harry wasn’t real, Y/N thinks. She was a bit stumped.

While she had read a lot of romance novels, as a self proclaimed member of the book community, she hadn’t ever expected any of that to come true. Sure, it was nice to read, but men like that didn’t exist. The butterflies she got reading them had been more than enough, but she was finding that the more time she spent with Harry that she preferred real life over her story books.

It was just… odd. Not in a bad way, but the things he did had her doing a double take. Venmoing her for the cookie ingredients, paying for the pizza, texting her good morning and good night, checking in on her tattoo, even sending her a bunch of sunflowers when she had woken up in a shit mood and let him know. They were so early in it and she had become a bit nervous.

It felt like waiting for the other shoe to drop. The tension, the knowing it's too good to be true. It wasn’t like he was absolved of fault. He was a little possessive, he was a bit of a workaholic, he was hard on himself, he was a little pessimistic, a little cold, rigid but these were all things she could deal with. But there was just something making her nervous. It had never been this good for her and her cynical side was trying to come out, trying to rear its ugly head and leave a brown smear on this pretty new relationship tied up in a silky red ribbon with pristine white wrapping.

She had been so wrong about him, it was insane. He wasn’t any of the things she had assumed, at least not to her. He was still a bit of a snarly asshole but she was never at the receiving end of it. Their date had blown her mind, how he had been so down to earth with her, how he had kissed her so thoroughly and left with a swagger in his walk, how he left her wanting more. It was strange for her to yearn for someone so much, to want to be around a man more than she had experienced in the past. She feared becoming clingy as it progressed, addicted to the intoxicating kisses and the spice of his cologne, the roughness of the calluses on his hand and his deep voice talking in the cajoling whispers that he had given her a little taste of.

For all intents and purposes, Y/N was realizing she was fucked. Absolutely ruined.

H: Hey, I’m on my way. Do you need me to stop for anything else? Xxx

Y/N: No :) I’ve got everything! Just come on in when you’re here. It’s unlocked. Xxxx

From the beating going on in her chest, she knew she was in for a ride tonight.

After their night making cookies, they’d had a few more dates. All of which he had been a gentleman. They’d made out, he’d felt her up, but he didn’t push for more. It wasn’t something she was used to. All her past experiences had rushed the sexual bits of it and she sort of felt like she was doing something wrong even though she knew she wasn’t. Harry teased her, making her feel hot but backed off shortly after only to be soft and gentle with her. It was confusing and she craved more but it was difficult to know how to push. He’d told her that he wanted to take time with her, that he wanted to do this right because he liked her a lot, but how long was it going to take?

The main concern was that he be comfortable. That’s what mattered the most and she could see he got a little nervous sometimes, like when he’d placed his hands under her shirt and palmed her tits over her bra a few nights ago, only doing it for a short while and not pushing further than that. She’d been aching for it when he left. If this was some sort of edging, he was doing a great job of making her crave it.

Harry was incredibly attractive. This was common knowledge, and she’d go as far as to say it was fact. Her body reacted to him in a very strong way, but the slight rejections were starting to make her wonder if she was the one pushing too hard. It was hard to control herself with his hands on her. His large palms holding her waist and pulling her close so he could lick into his mouth, letting her hips rock a little on top of him- and he got hard! That’s something that stumped her. He was hard and she could feel it under her, so obviously he had to be at least attracted to her, but something was stopping him. Tonight, she needed to figure out what it was.

She heard the door open and the telltale clank of the keys attached to his jeans, making her smile as she continued to stir the pot of soup on the stove. She’d learned a recipe for broccoli cheddar soup when he said it was his favorite and managed to do two trial runs to make sure it was actually good. She’d cheated with the bread, getting store bought, but it had led her to find a new favorite wine.

Hands found her waist and chin rested on top of her as he looked down at the pot she was stirring, a little hum coming from his throat. “Should’ve known you were up t’something when you wouldn’t tell me what we were going to do for dinner.” He clicked his tongue, using a finger to turn her head so he could catch her lips. He was smiling as he pulled back, eyes light and happy as he looked back down at it. “You didn’t have t’do this all by yourself. I would have helped, or paid. But you’re too fucking sweet.” His hands went back to her waist to give her a squeeze before moving next to the stove to look at her. “Is there something I can do to help?

Y/N’s stomach was a mess of butterflies from his reaction, cheeks hurting from keeping her own smile contained enough that it didn’t look crazy. It did smell good in here and her trial runs ensured that her recipe wasn’t a fuck up. “You can get wine glasses out. I found a cool wine at Trader Joes and wanted to try it.” She hummed, tapping the spoon against the side of the pot to get off the excess before resting it in her sunflower spoon rest. For once, she was actually using it as it was intended and not just decor.

“Yeah? I’m excited to try.” He moved past her to get the wine glasses on the bar cart she had set up when she got a wild hair and wanted to do a DIY thing. She went the opposite way to get two bowls, placing them down before gathering the spoons. “How much did the ingredients cost?”

“None of your business.” She playfully snipped, ladling the soup into the bowls. “You’ve paid for enough. I can handle paying for some of our meals and stuff. You know I don’t expect you to cover everything, right?” Sometimes she had to wonder if Harry thought she expected this. Of course she fought him on paying every time but he was quicker to place his card or cash down every time. How? She didn’t know.

“Course I know that. But I like to.” He saddled up next to her, watching as she served their dinner. “I like to take care of you. I know you don’t expect that and you’re not runnin’ around trying to get money off of me. But even if you were, I think I’d give it to you.” He adjusted the strap of her apron, eyes on the side of her face. “I enjoy paying. I can’t describe exactly why, but it feels right. You give me your company, and it’s worth a lot more than dinner.” Harry felt pretty strongly about it, it seemed. Y/N had to wonder who instilled this in him. She knew it was old school, and he did sometimes do things by the book, but he was progressive with his views. It confused her a little.

Harry himself, though, was holding back. Of course he wanted to spoil Y/N. He liked her a lot more than was probably normal for only being together for a few weeks, and he didn’t want to scare her off. It was hard. He wanted to pay for her nails, wanted to make sure she had the things she wanted. It was hard to hold his true emotion back, but he feared the rejection. Coming on way too strong. He fell hard and fast, but Y/N was the hardest and fastest he’d even crashed. His crush had predated their relationship, making it even worse.

“Well.. Okay.” She sighed, turning to hand him his bowl. “If it actually makes you happy, I suppose I can let go. I just don’t want you to think I’m some sort of freeloader or, or a gold digger. I make my own money and I can take care of stuff for us too.” He followed her to the table, choosing to sit next to her instead of across.

“Never. You’ve never asked me for a thing. If you did, I’d probably say yes, but I know you’re none of those things. You’re the sweetest girl I know. Let me take care of you.” He rested his palm on her thigh to squeeze it lightly before spooning some of the soup into his mouth.

“Careful! It’s hot.” Y/N knew it was still steaming and worried for him, but he simply swallowed and gave her a smile.

“Been drinking hot coffee for ages. Doesn’t bother me. Plus, I’ve literally poked a hole through my tongue, so it’s safe. But thanks for looking out for me.” He laughed. “This is really fucking good, Y/N. Probably the best I’ve had.”

She knew he had to be exaggerating but the praise made her flush. A tiny, shy smile painted her lips as she watched him take another bite. A groan of satisfaction came from him, making her stomach flutter for a variety of reasons, but she needed to get her mind out of the gutter. “You think so?”

“Know so. You’re never gonna be able to get rid of me. Gonna have to be bribing you to make this for me again.” His knee knocked into hers. It was a slight joke- he would definitely ask her to make it again, but he would cover the ingredients. Maybe she could make it at his house? He loved the idea of her in his kitchen, in his living room. In his bed.

“Well, there’s plenty of leftovers.” She chirped, happiness coursing through her at his words. Succeeding at this goal made her extremely happy. Her boyfriend liked her soup! “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go to the bars with everyone tonight or if you wanted us to stay here. The choice is yours.” They’d been informed in the groupchat that there was a pub crawl tonight, but Y/N could feel his hesitation. They hadn’t been out with them together yet, and something was keeping him from wanting to go with her.

“Let’s stay here.” He sighed, stretching his arms over his head. “M’not in the mood to have to deal with drunken people spilling their pints on to me. Didn’t you say there was a documentary about a cult you wanted t’watch?” The way he brushed it off made sense, but she had to wonder why he didn’t want to go.

“I’m fine with that, but you used to love going out. I don’t want to stop you from doing that.” She approached it carefully, watching as his brows furrowed together.

“Not at all. T’be honest, I used to only go out when I knew you were going. Wanted to make sure you were okay, and… I dunno. I would always end up staring.” His cheeks pinkened a little, looking down at his bowl. And before her, it was going out to get laid. He didn’t need the bar for either of those things anymore. “So now I’ve got you, get to spend time with you. If you want to go, we can. I jus’ don’t want them poking at us.”

That was a worry of his.

“How do you mean?” This was something she’d been a little insecure about. Their friends didn’t really know she and Harry were together. Harry hadn’t mentioned telling anyone and she hadn’t wanted to say something too early. It was hard to navigate the relationship this early on. Harry was a private person but she also liked the idea of people knowing that they were together.

“Well.. They’re just a nosy lot, aren’t they? I’ve kind of kept this to myself, wanted to enjoy you before the group of them descend on us like vultures asking for information.” The distaste was clear on his face, making something in her tummy turn. “They’re gonna ask for the whole story, and apparently they all thought I didn’t like you so it’s gonna be a big deal. I’d like it to just stay between us for a while longer.”

“Oh. Okay.” She peeped, swallowing the lump in her throat.

She was being silly. Of course, she knew what he said made complete and utter sense. He was correct. It would be a big deal and they would demand to know what and how and when and it would be a lot, but something about it made her feel icky. Moving her soup around with her spoon, she stayed quiet as she tried to talk herself down. Harry had never done something purposely to hurt her feelings, but this had done so by accident. It wasn’t his fault- but part of her worried he was ashamed or something. She knew she didn’t exactly look like his normal type,or the type he apparently went for prior to her. She wasn’t covered in tattoos yet. Was it weird to be dating a girl that was sort of your opposite?

Meanwhile, Harry’s heart sunk to his ass. He could see, he could hear that it wasn’t okay. He’d hurt her feelings and he caught it on her face, and he felt a little queasy that he couldn’t pinpoint what exactly about that had made her upset. She looked a bit like a kicked puppy and he felt awful, the guilt crawling up his throat as he turned to her. “Hey… Y/N.” He urged. “Can you look at me, sweetheart? I think I just hurt your feelings and I didn’t mean to.” His hand settled on her shoulder, thumbing over it as he tried not to freak out. This was what he meant by putting his foot in his mouth. Sometimes he didn’t think things through, or maybe had some emotional incompetence.

“No, no… You just, I don’t know why it upset me.” She looked at him, seeing the genuine stress on his face. He had just turned anxious in a way she hadn’t seen him before. “I uh, I think I’m just being silly.” Even though her eyes burned a little bit, he obviously hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings.

“Your feelings aren’t silly.” He murmured. “What felt bad about what I said? I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to upset you.” His hand grabbed hers as she dropped her spoon. “Talk me through it. What part felt bad to you? M’sorry.” His apology came out again and Y/N felt guilty herself. She knew she was ultra sensitive and lots of things hurt her feelings that didn’t make sense, but she didn’t want him feeling that way about her! He’d just been talking.

“I uh… I think, somewhere in my brain… Part of me has been thinking you don’t want people to know we’re together because I’m like, y’know. Not your type.” She winced even as she said it, stumbling over her words. “Like, I’ve seen the girls that approach you and the ones you used to talk to.” One of his ex flings had come up to the table once but he had swiftly rejected her. “I’m nothing like them. I just get nervous that you’ll be like… embarrassed to be seen with me or something.”

Harry looked at her with a sad frown, shaking his head adamantly as she finished the sentence. So that’s what it was. She was comparing herself to other girls that seemed to fit his aesthetic more, which had been true before. He’d gone for girls that had lots of tattoos and wore darker makeup and different clothes than she had, sure. But she was his absolute favorite person. Couldn’t she see that?

“Darling… No. Absolutely not. M’the furthest thing from embarrassed.” He promised. “I want everyone to know. It’s nothing to do with that. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the privilege to call mine. I adore you, and sometimes I even have to stop myself because I feel like m’gonna come on too strong but… It isn’t that I don’t want them to know. It’s the part where they harass us for answers.” Harry wasn’t too good at the whole talking thing sometimes but he was doing his best for Y/N. He liked her far too much to let her worry like this. “I am a private man. I don’t want to share all the gritty details, no, but you know how they are when they’ve been drinking. They’re relentless and they’re gonna bother you about it. And I know that you can get overwhelmed and I just…I don’t want them to hound you while I just sit there next to you.” They’d know better than to go after Harry for answers, but Y/N had been so open with them in the past, they’d expect the same.

“I like you a lot more than you can probably tell. So much that I’ve had to pace myself. I don’t like the idea of being too much for you, or moving too fast. You deserve a proper dating experience with the lead ups, or whatever you want. You’re not just some hookup I want to divulge dirty details about. You mean something to me and I think… I think that’s part of why I like keeping it to us right now.” He swallowed, adjusting in his seat to get closer to her. “I don’t want them to intrude on us when we’re doing so well on our own. But if you want them to know, I’ll tell ‘em all.” Harry knew he’d try to find a way to lasso the moon if that's what the girl in front of him wanted.

Y/N felt exceptionally silly for thinking he was ashamed of her, but his explanation made her butterflies return. He really liked her like that? She sniffled, looking into his earnest eyes before nodding. “Okay. That makes a lot of sense.” Taking some initiative, she got up and sat herself on his lap to get a cuddle. They both seemed to need one. Harry had a damn near heart attack seeing her lips downturned. “We could do like…” She paused before shaking her head. “Nevermind, It’s silly.” Her face heated.

“No, it’s not. What is it?” He urged, trying to hear her out. The man had no idea what she was going to suggest but he doubted he would tell her no.

“People sometimes like, hint that they’re with someone. On social media. They post photos that are kinda like, unsure. So it isn’t as much of a shock when they do come out as a couple. Is that something that would make you feel a little better about it?” She knew they called it soft launching but it felt weird to call it that out loud.

They could ignore texts if they wanted to. It was obvious they weren’t going out tonight, but maybe people could put things together and they didn’t need to be harassed in person. Harry thought about it for a moment before nodding, still unsure as to how it would work. He was picky about his privacy, especially on socials, but he trusted Y/N. He didn’t mind later on if she posted him fully, but it would make sense to him to start it that way. “I don’t see why not. How do we do that, though?”

“Well, later when we’re watching something I can take a selfie and your arm can be in it or something. I dunno, it doesn’t have to be extremely obvious. Just enough that there's a hint. You move on from there.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, adjusting herself. “If you’re worried about them harassing me, which is very sweet by the way, it may be easier to just do something like that. Let them see we’re hanging out on our own and we can just ignore our phones and answer when we see fit. It may be less overwhelming for the both of us.” It made sense to her.

“Hm.” He hummed, thinking about it for a moment. “I think that could be alright, yeah.” Lips quirked up in a smile. “We can do that when we’re watching TV. Sounds like a plan?”

“Yes, absolutely.” She beamed. Thank god he hadn’t rejected her. She’d probably crawl into her own skin. “Did you want seconds before we do that, though?” His bowl was nearly empty and Y/N couldn’t help but be giddy about it. He’d really enjoyed her soup!

“Mm.. Yeah, I think so.”

—-----

To be fair, Y/N was sort of expecting it. When their TV time and ‘soft launch photo’ (consisting of Harry’s hand on her thigh- the one with the cross tattoo- and the bowl of popcorn in her lap) lulled, the tension had risen again. One thing was leading to another and his mouth was glued to hers, her body hauled up on top of him as he leaned back on the couch. His touches were eager, squeezing her hips and pulling her into him, the girl was gagging for it.

Harry had been holding back on her and she was dying for even the slightest nibble of intimacy with him. The way he kissed her was so thorough and hot, like he needed her mouth to breathe, and yet when he gently pulled away this time it made her whimper. Frustration rose in her belly and chest as she watched him wipe under her lips, the movement of her hips paused by his other hand. It always stopped here, and she had to wonder why it was.

“D-Do you not want to touch me?” She asked breathlessly as her hands fell from his shoulders back to her sides. It didn’t add up. He kissed her hungrily, touched her when they kissed like she was his anchor, he’d been suggestive in texts- but there was this lull that had always come up and halted their progression.

Harry’s eyes widened and he shook his head, sitting up slightly whilst keeping her in his lap. “What? Are you joking?” He whispered, confusion painted on his face. “It’s all I want to do. I can barely keep my hands off of you. What are you talking about?”

“E-Every time we get to this point you stop. I know we talked about taking it slow and I never want to push you further than what you want to do but we spoke about you wanting to do more to me a-and I’m just a little confused.” She peeped, looking down at his lap. She could visibly see he was hard, it was obvious. “I want to make you feel good, H. I really, really do.”

She hadn’t meant for it to be whiny. Really, she hadn’t, but she’d been thinking about having him down her throat and hearing him praise her for weeks now. He’d been patient and gentle and of course, she loved how tender he was with her but… “I’ve been a mess and I keep thinking about sucking you off and I would really like to. Can we do something more tonight?” She brushed her nose against his, a fleeting kiss being pressed to his slightly open mouth. “Please? If you’re comfortable, I promise I’ll be good and do whatever you want. I think- I think you’ll have to show me how you like it but if you want to hold off touching me, let me do it to you.. Please, H…” Her hand slid down and rested at the waistband of his jeans.

Harry was a bit shocked, really. He’d been taking his time with her because he really, really didn’t want to fuck this up by thinking with his dick, but he hadn’t realized it had been grating so much on her. Of course this was his fuck up, but he could only focus on the fact that she was nearly begging to have his cock in her mouth. “M’so sorry, baby. Was trying to take it slow. I want to touch you so much.” His voice was slightly hoarse as he replied. “Don’t ever think I’m not attracted to you.” Grabbing her hand, she let it sink further so it was over his cock. His breathing caught in his throat as she squeezed, giving him a needy look that was unfamiliar with him.

Who would have thought Y/N would be the one to make the first move?

“You feel that, Sweetheart? I get like this every time I’m around you.” Her hand was smaller than his, he noticed as he let go and let her do as she pleased. “I’m obsessed with you. Y’know that? I meant it in my text to you when we talked about this.” His nose brushed against hers. “I’m always thinking about how hot and wet I can get that pretty cunt. Do you think I don’t imagine you every single time I wrap my hand around my cock?” He clicked his tongue. “It’s always you. Always your gorgeous face I see when I cum. Imagine making you cum for me, how you’d feel. Don’t think for a minute that I don’t want you when you’re all I can bloody think about when I close my eyes.” It was intense, maybe, but true.

“You can do whatever you want. What’s my girl need, hm? Want my fingers? My tongue? We’re going to hold off on having you squeeze around my cock for now until we’ve got days to spare… M’not going to be able to do it just once. But It’s up to you pretty girl.” He would get on his knees for her if he was being honest. He’d never wanted to make her feel like he didn’t want her, and he knew he would be making up for it. His pretty girl, however, had a different thing in mind.

“I want to touch you. Please?” She whispered. “I meant it. I want you to touch me too but, I’ve been thinking about this for ages.” It was slightly embarrassing to admit but she felt that confidence going through her now, especially since he had expressed how much he wanted her too. “I’m okay with anything but you’ve been teasing me for so long…” Her fingernails dragged over the side of his neck and tangled slightly in his hair, making him hiss and his eyes roll back slightly at the accidental tug of his hair. His cock was thick in his pants and he knew he didn’t have it in him to deny her- not after all of this.

“Can’t say no to you, baby.” He panted, gently taking her hand and leading it to his belt. His eyes were dark as he took her lips again, groaning as her palm slipped down and squeezed over him. It was a welcomed feeling for the both of them, her lips parting against his own as she felt the hot bulge underneath the denim as it throbbed against her hand. Yes- this was exactly what she had wanted. “Go ahead. Whatever you want to do, m’yours.”

[iichfilwypj]

Percy Jackson x reader where she’s the one to show him around camp & its like love at first sight for him? Thank you love ❤️

love at first sight? | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x demigod! reader ღ warnings: none! ღ wc: 982 i hope you like it! tbh i don't love it, but i tried my best! so sorry it took me so long, love!

Percy was lost, both literally and figuratively.

Surrounded by demigods darting around the camp, centaurs sneaking wary glances, and nymphs following his every move with sharp eyes, he had no idea where to focus his gaze.

“You’re Percy, right?” A clear, gentle voice spoke from his right.

When he woke up hours ago, he was almost convinced he was dead. 

Now, it was the only possibility; the girl in front of him could only be an angel.

Percy had never believed in love at first sight. Those stories about falling head over heels in an instant? Ha, I’ll believe it when I see it.

But the second he laid eyes on her, that belief crumbled. 

His heart thudded loudly in his chest as he watched her. He couldn’t help but drink in every little detail: the way her hair fluttered in the breeze, the soft flush of her cheeks kissed by the cool air, and the stray strands of hair that framed her face.

Percy felt an irrational urge to tuck them behind her ear, just to see her better.

She was captivating, mesmerizing, breathtaking. Everything around him faded as their eyes met. Hers were stunning, probably the most beautiful he had ever seen.

And when she smiled at him, his chest tightened painfully, making him let out a breath, almost a sigh.

“Yes, I’m hi—Percy,” He stammered, wishing the ground would swallow him whole when she giggled softly.

“Chiron told me to show you around the camp.” Her voice was warm and comforting. “It’s okay if it doesn’t make sense yet; but trust me, we’ve all been through this. Don’t worry!”

And then she laughed softly; it was like music, and it only deepened his embarrassment. But even in his flustered state, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he wanted to hear that laugh again.

“Should we start?”

For the next forty minutes, Percy was blessed with the presence of the girl by his side as they wandered through the camp. 

She shared stories of her own and of other campers, clearly making an effort to engage him in conversation. His attention was entirely consumed by her; everything she said felt important, like it was the most precious thing in the world.

He made sure to remember every little detail of her voice, the way her lips curled when she talked, how she seemed so sure of herself. 

He was still trying to process what had happened when they first locked eyes, that moment when everything else faded away. His heart hadn't stopped pounding since. It was intoxicating.

His mind was racing, trying to make sense of the strange pull he felt toward her.

“Oh, we should visit the forest! It’s one of my favorite places, but we should be armed…" Percy’s smile faded. "Don’t worry, we’ll be fine!"

They ended up visiting the forest, the archery range, the canoe lake, the stables, and the stadium where, apparently, sword and spear contests were held.

And during the whole walk, he fought the urge to ask what the hell she was on about.

Swords? The real ones, made of steel and used for killing?

He must have looked confused -scared- because she laughed, nudging him playfully. He turned bright red at the simple touch, hiding his face from the sun as though it were responsible for the color in his cheeks.

“I know it’s confusing, but trust me, you’re going to like this place.” 

If you're here, for sure.

“What?” She asked, eyes narrowing slightly. 

“Oh, nothing!” He shifted his weight uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact.

The fuck is wrong with me? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Then, she stopped suddenly, turning to face him with a smile. She walked closer to him, very close; almost like she knew the effect she had on him, and it made his heart race even faster.

“Want to see my secret spot? No one else knows about it.” She asked with a mischievous smile, her eyes twinkling with excitement. Percy blinked, his heart leaping at the invitation.

“Uh, yeah.” He answered quickly, almost too eagerly, but he couldn’t care. He would have agreed to anything just to stay close to her.

They reached a small, concealed area under the long leaves of a weeping willow, which sheltered a small space. Inside, there were some books, candles, and even blankets on the floor.

Percy stood there for a moment, feeling as though he had been transported to a different world. “It’s… amazing, honestly.”  Percy whispered, his voice thick with awe. 

“I know, right? I come here everytime I want to be alone.” She turned to face him, her voice gentle but determined. Something in her eyes made him feel like he wasn’t alone in this new place.

“It’s weird,” he admitted, suddenly self-conscious. “being the new guy here… I’m not sure if I belong.” His voice faltered slightly, but he couldn’t pull his gaze away from her. She smiled, her eyes softening with understanding. 

“You can always come find me if you don’t want to be alone.” She said to him.

And when he opened his mouth to respond, he realized there was something he had to ask.

“Wait... you never told me your name.”

She paused, her lips curving into a smile, a teasing glint in her eyes. Percy’s heart skipped a beat. 

Now he was sure; she knew exactly what she was doing to him, and it made everything inside him ache with anticipation. 

“Maybe I’ll tell you later,” she said playfully. “After dinner, right here. Don’t be late.”

Then, as if to seal the moment, she winked at him, before disappearing behind the leaves.

Percy stayed still for a moment after she left, his mind still spinning. His thoughts were jumbled, but one thing was clear: he was already falling for her. The thought of seeing her again, of being near her, made his chest flutter with excitement.

Maybe that place wasn’t so bad, after all.

school will kill me but luckily this is my last week!! i am very happy! el máximo de faltas en mi colegio es 28 y tengo 27,75 JAJAJAJJA siempre al límite!

[pbaz7]

It’ll Always Be Her Chapter 6

AN: Alright here’s the next chapter. I think I’ll be able to post everyday if not every other day for a while. Please drop live reactions and let me know what you think so I can keep the momentum going.

TW: Suggestive language, explicit

Word Count: 3.5k

After the events of that unfortunate night two weeks ago Azzi had spent much of her time with Paige making the blonde feel better, constantly reminding her how generous and amazing she is.

Now, Azzi was stretched out across Paige’s lap, her head nestled comfortably as Paige’s fingers absentmindedly combed through her damp hair. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the TV in the background and the muffled laughter of their teammates down the hall. The post-game rush was still fresh in their veins after one of the toughest matches of the season, and they were both basking in the warm afterglow of victory.

Paige glanced down, catching Azzi’s relaxed expression, her lashes fluttering slightly as she stared at nothing in particular. For a moment, Paige allowed herself to soak in the sight, a small smile tugging at her lips. Azzi, noticing the change in Paige’s rhythm, tilted her head slightly, catching Paige’s gaze with a soft, almost lazy smile.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Azzi’s smile widened, a playful glint lighting up her eyes. “Nothing,” she said in a tone that was anything but innocent.

Paige scoffed, her fingers pausing in Azzi’s hair. “You’ve got that look again.”

Azzi blinked up at her, feigning confusion. “What look?”

“The one that says you’re about to do something, or say something, that’ll make me regret letting you lie here,” Paige teased, though the fondness in her voice betrayed her.

Azzi chuckled, shifting slightly on Paige’s lap. “Me? I’m just enjoying the view.”

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the blush creeping up her neck. “You’re so full of it.”

Azzi grinned and stretched her arms lazily above her head, her shirt riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of toned skin and her piercing. Paige’s eyes darted briefly to the exposed skin before quickly looking away, her cheeks burning. Azzi noticed, of course, and her grin turned positively wicked.

“Caught you staring,” Azzi teased, her voice a low murmur.

“I wasn’t staring,” Paige shot back, her tone defensive but lacking any real bite.

Azzi hummed thoughtfully, her eyes never leaving Paige’s face. “You know, I think you like having me here,” she said, her voice soft and teasing.

Paige’s heart skipped a beat, but she refused to let Azzi see how easily she was getting under her skin. “And I think you like pushing your luck.”

Azzi’s laughter was light and melodic. She propped herself up on her elbows, her face now level with Paige’s, their noses almost brushing. “Only with you,” she said, her tone suddenly softer, more serious.

Paige felt her breath catch. There was a weight to Azzi’s words, a sincerity that made her heart race. The air between them grew thicker, the playful banter giving way to something deeper.

“You’re impossible,” Paige murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“And yet,” Azzi said, her gaze flickering to Paige’s lips before meeting her eyes again, “you haven’t kicked me off your lap.”

The two of them exchange a much too familiar banter.

Paige opened her mouth to respond, but Azzi leaned in, cutting her off with a lingering kiss to her cheek, dangerously close to the corner of her mouth. Paige froze, her breath hitching as Azzi’s lips lingered just a second too long, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

Azzi pulled back slowly, her eyes dark and filled with mischief. “You know,” she said, her voice dropping to a sultry tone, “there’s nothing stopping me now.”

Paige’s pulse quickened. “Stopping you from what?” she asked, her voice coming out more breathless than she intended.

Azzi’s lips curved into a secretive smile. “You’ll see,” she said cryptically, her tone filled with promise.

Before Paige could press her further, Azzi shifted off her lap, standing gracefully. “I should go get ready,” she said casually, smoothing out her shirt.

Paige blinked, still trying to process what had just happened. “Since when do we get ready separately?” she asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

Azzi turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips. “Since now,” she replied, her tone light but her eyes smoldering. She shot Paige a wink before sauntering toward the door, her hips swaying just enough to draw Paige’s gaze.

Paige watched her, unable to tear her eyes away. Just as Azzi reached the door, she turned back, her smirk deepening. “Don’t take too long, though. Can’t miss celebrating that big win.”

With that, she slipped out of the room, leaving Paige alone with her racing thoughts and a heart pounding in her chest.

Paige let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. Azzi was a force of nature, and Paige was caught right in the eye of the storm.

…

The energy inside Ted’s was almost overwhelming. A thick wall of heat and sound wrapped around Paige as she stepped in with Aubrey, KK, and Ice, the pulse of the music thrumming through her chest. The room was packed, filled to capacity with students still riding the high of the team’s massive win earlier in the evening. Everyone was here for one reason—to celebrate. But Paige had only one thing on her mind.

Her eyes immediately started their search. It didn’t take long to find her. Across the room, Azzi stood near the bar, leaning against the counter with an easy confidence that drew the attention of more than a few onlookers. She was laughing at something one of their teammates said, her curls framing her face, her eyes shining in the dim light. She looked effortlessly stunning.

Paige froze for a second, breath hitching. Azzi had outdone herself tonight. A sleek, tight black crop top clung to her, highlighting every dip and curve of her toned body. The fabric stopped just short of her bellybutton, revealing her abs and that damn belly button piercing that Paige couldn’t tear her eyes away from. Her shorts barely skimmed the tops of her thighs, showing off long legs that seemed to go on forever. Paige swallowed hard, willing herself to breathe. The sight alone was enough to make her head spin.

Ice noticing Paige’s reaction chuckles, “she knows exactly what she’s doing,” she muttered under her breath as she elbowed Paige lightly.

“Shut up,” Paige said, trying—and failing—to tear her eyes away from Azzi.

Azzi’s gaze lifted at that moment, as if drawn by some unseen force. When her eyes locked on Paige, her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile, one that sent a jolt straight through Paige’s chest. It wasn’t a casual smile; it was deliberate, teasing, and confident. It said I see you, and I know exactly what you’re thinking, yes this is for you. Paige’s mouth went dry.

They made their way over to the rest of the team, but Paige hardly registered the conversations happening around her. Her focus was singular. Azzi hadn’t looked away once, her gaze smoldering and unrelenting. Paige felt the weight of it with every step, her pulse quickening in anticipation.

The celebration kicked into high gear as the night progressed. Drinks flowed freely, laughter echoed, and the music’s tempo ramped up, pulling nearly everyone to the dance floor. Paige and Azzi moved in and out of the crowd, their paths crossing more frequently with each passing minute. Every time Azzi brushed past Paige, she’d let her fingers graze her arm or trail along her lower back, each touch more lingering than the last. It wasn’t long before Paige found herself gravitating toward Azzi with an intensity she could no longer ignore.

“Enjoying yourself?” Azzi’s voice was low and smooth as she leaned in, her breath warm against Paige’s ear.

Paige tilted her head slightly, her lips dangerously close to Azzi’s. “I was… until you decided to make it impossible to think straight.”

Azzi chuckled, a soft, sultry sound that sent shivers down Paige’s spine. “Good,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to let her eyes roam over Paige’s face, lingering on her lips.

Paige bit the inside of her cheek, fighting the urge to close the gap between them. Instead, she grabbed Azzi’s hand and tugged her toward the dance floor, wordlessly daring her to keep up. Azzi followed willingly, a playful gleam in her eye.

The music shifted and the crowd pressed closer. Paige turned to face Azzi, their bodies just inches apart. Azzi’s hands found Paige’s hips, drawing her in as they began to move together, their rhythms perfectly in sync. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension, every brush of their skin igniting a spark that threatened to burn out of control.

Paige’s hands slid up Azzi’s sides, her fingers grazing the exposed skin beneath her top. Azzi’s breath hitched, her eyes darkening as she leaned in, their foreheads nearly touching. The pounding bass of the music seemed to sync with the rhythm of their hearts, drowning out everything else

“You really know how to drive me crazy,” Paige said, her voice barely audible above the music, but every word was charged with desire.

Azzi smirked, her grip on Paige’s hips tightening as she pulled them flush together.. “You’re not exactly making it easy for me either,” she murmured, her voice teasing but laced with something deeper.

They swayed together, their movements growing more synchronized, more intimate. Paige let her thigh slide between Azzi’s legs, a boldness overtaking her as she felt Azzi’s breath hitch again. The closeness was electric, their bodies speaking in a silent, unrelenting rhythm. Paige’s hands slipped down to Azzi’s lower back, pulling her closer still, her touch lingering as if she couldn’t bear to let go.

Azzi’s lips brushed Paige’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine. She whispered, her tone playful yet seductive. “Were you planning to keep this side of you hidden forever?”

Paige chuckled, her face flushing despite the dim light. “Hm, only from you,” she teased, her voice husky. “But I guess that ship has sailed.”

Azzi’s laughter was low and warm, vibrating against Paige’s skin. She let her hands trail slowly up Paige’s arms, settling them around her neck as she leaned in again. “Guess you’ll have to make up for lost time, then.”

Their foreheads touched again, their breath mingling. Paige tilted her head, her lips a whisper away from Azzi’s, but she hesitated, savoring the tension between them. The room seemed to shrink around them, the crowd fading into a blur of lights and sound as they moved together.

The music shifted to a slower, sultrier beat, and Azzi took the lead, her hips rolling in time with the rhythm. Paige followed instinctively, matching her movements, their connection deepening with every pulse of the music. Paige’s fingers traced light, teasing patterns against Azzi’s back, earning a soft gasp from the younger girl.

“You’re full of surprises tonight,” Azzi murmured, her voice low with desire. “I like it.”

Paige leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of Azzi’s ear. “Only for you,” she whispered, her words dripping with intent.

Azzi pulled back just enough to lock eyes with Paige, her gaze soft but fiercely determined. “Tell me,” she said, her voice a velvet hum that sent a rush of heat through Paige. “What’s stopping us right now?”

Paige’s heart pounded, her resolve hanging by a thread. The world outside their bubble felt distant and insignificant. Nothing was stopping them. The thought sent a wave of longing through her, and she felt herself leaning further into Azzi, her walls crumbling.

Azzi’s thumb brushed against Paige’s jaw, a gentle yet deliberate touch. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, every word heavy with promise.

Paige didn’t need to be asked twice. She nodded, her breath catching as Azzi took her hand and began leading her through the sea of bodies, their heights allowing them to weave effortlessly toward the exit. Paige followed, her pulse quickening with every step. The noise and chaos of the bar faded into the background, her entire world narrowing to the girl holding her hand.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, the contrast was almost jarring. The street was quieter, the hum of distant laughter and conversation drifting lazily through the night. But Paige barely noticed. Her focus was entirely on Azzi, on the way her curls framed her face in the dim light, on the way her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath.

Azzi turned to face her, the intensity in her gaze sending a fresh wave of heat through Paige. For a moment, neither of them spoke. They just stood there, the weight of the past few weeks crashing down on them, the tension that had built between them threatening to overflow.

Without a word, Azzi stepped closer, her hands finding their way to Paige’s waist once more. Slowly, she leaned in, her lips brushing against the corner of Paige’s mouth in a teasing, lingering kiss. It was a promise, a taste of what was to come, and it left Paige wanting more.

“Let’s go,” Azzi murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige didn’t hesitate, letting Azzi lead her down the street, their steps quick and purposeful. The world around them faded into a blur as they walked, their destination unspoken but understood. They had waited long enough. Tonight, there would be no more holding back.

…

As Paige and Azzi step into Azzi's suite, the atmosphere shifts instantly. The tension between them is palpable, an electric undercurrent charging the air. They both know that, for the first time, there are no barriers—no distractions, no Jess, and no need for restraint. It's just the two of them, fully aware of what they want and finally free to act on it.

Azzi’s eyes gleam with anticipation as she locks the door behind them, leaning back against it for a moment to admire Paige. Paige, whose cheeks are flushed, gives a lopsided grin, the corner of her lips quirking up in a way that makes Azzi’s pulse quicken.

“Finally,” Azzi murmurs, her voice low and teasing.

“Finally,” Paige echoes, her voice soft but heavy with intent.

They’re hardly able to keep their hands to themselves as they make their way through the suite to Azzi’s room. Azzi’s hand brushes against Paige’s lower back, and Paige glances over her shoulder, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Careful, Azzi,” Paige says, her voice a playful warning. “I might start thinking you have ulterior motives.”

Azzi smirks, stepping closer, her breath warm against Paige’s ear. “Ulterior motives? Me? Never.”

Paige chuckles, but the sound is cut short when Azzi adds, her voice dropping an octave, “Unless you want me to.”

The words send a shiver down Paige’s spine, and she spins around, walking backward now, her gaze never leaving Azzi’s. “You’re full of it, Azzi.”

“And you love it,” Azzi shoots back, her tone confident.

Paige arches a brow, her smirk widening. “Maybe I do.”

Their banter continues as they reach Azzi’s bedroom, their words laced with growing sexual tension. Paige playfully tugs on the hem of Azzi’s crop top, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s stomach, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the younger girl.

“You’re quiet now,” Paige teases. “Cat got your tongue?”

Azzi leans in, her lips hovering just a breath away from Paige’s. “Not yet,” she whispers. “But you could.”

Once inside the bedroom, they slow down, the weight of the moment settling over them. Paige takes a step back, her playful demeanor softening. She looks at Azzi, really looks at her, taking in the way her dark hair frames her face, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, and the way her brown eyes seem to pierce through every layer of Paige’s guarded heart.

“Azzi,” Paige says, her voice quieter now. “Are you ok? Is this really what you want?”

Azzi doesn’t hesitate. She steps forward, her hands finding Paige’s. “It’s all I’ve wanted for months,” she says, her voice filled with conviction. “You’re all I’ve wanted.”

The sincerity in Azzi’s words makes Paige’s heart skip a beat. She nods slowly, a soft smile spreading across her lips. Then, without another word, she closes the distance between them, her lips capturing Azzi’s in a kiss that’s been months in the making.

The moment their lips meet, it’s as if a current of electricity shoots through them. The kiss starts slow, tender, both of them savoring the feeling, the taste, the sheer rightness of it. But the months of pent-up tension quickly take over, and the kiss deepens, growing more passionate with every passing second.

Azzi’s hands move up to cup Paige’s face, her fingers tangling in her hair, while Paige’s arms wrap around Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer. They stumble slightly, laughing against each other’s lips, but neither pulls away.

“God, you’re amazing,” Paige mutters against Azzi’s mouth before capturing her lips again.

Azzi lets out a soft whimper, and the sound drives Paige wild. She tilts Azzi’s head back, her lips trailing down to her jaw, then her neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses and marks in her wake.

They stumble toward the bed, their hands exploring, their kisses growing hungrier. Azzi tugs at Paige’s shirt, pulling it over her head in one swift motion. Paige laughs, a throaty, breathless sound, as she lets the shirt fall to the floor.

“You’re in a hurry,” Paige teases, her voice husky.

Azzi grins, her eyes dark with desire. “Can you blame me?”

Paige shakes her head, leaning in to capture Azzi’s lips again. This time, her tongue slides into Azzi’s mouth, drawing a soft sigh from the younger girl. Azzi melts into the kiss, her body pressing against Paige’s as they continue to explore each other.

Paige’s hand finds its way to Azzi’s neck, her fingers wrapping lightly around it, much like the last time. The effect is immediate. Azzi’s eyes flutter shut, a shiver running through her as she leans into Paige’s touch.

“You like that?” Paige whispers, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear.

Azzi nods, her breath hitching. “You know I do.”

Paige smirks, applying a bit more pressure, testing the waters to see just exactly what Azzi likes. “I’ve always wanted to see you lose control.”

Azzi’s eyes snap open, a challenge sparking in them. “Then make me lose control,” she says, her voice daring.

Paige’s smirk deepens, and she leans in, her lips brushing against Azzi’s as she whispers, “Don’t tempt me.”

Azzi lets out a breathless laugh, her hands trailing down Paige’s back before playing with the waistband of her sweats. “Who said I wasn’t?”

The two of them continue their heated exchange, their words becoming more daring, their touches more intimate. Paige’s lips trail down Azzi’s neck, her hands exploring every inch of her skin, drawing soft gasps and moans from the younger girl.

Azzi, not one to be outdone, pushes Paige back, climbing on top of her with a teasing grin. “I’m not the only one losing control here,” she says, her voice low.

“Taking charge, huh?” Paige teases.

“Someone’s got to,” Azzi quips, leaning down to press a kiss to Paige’s neck. “Besides, I think you like it.”

Paige’s breath hitches as Azzi’s lips trail lower, sucking on spots that’ll be sure to leave marks on the pale girl's skin. Her hands exploring every part of Paige that she’s always imagined. Paige reaches up, her fingers tangling in Azzi’s hair. “Keep going,” she whispers.

Azzi leans down, her lips brushing against Paige’s once more. “Good,” she whispers. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

After the way that made her feel Paige flips them over again not liking that she was losing in the slight battle of power. In this haste Azzi manages to snatch her own shirt off and Paige can’t help but stop to admire the girl under her. “Everything about you is perfect,” Paige whispers, causing Azzi’s heart to skip a beat.

Before Azzi can respond, Paige is kissing her tenderly again, trying to show the younger girl just how much this means to her. After some time Azzi finds herself searching for Paige’s hand to guide her exactly where she wants her.

As Paige’s hand reaches the button on Azzi’s shorts she makes sure to look up at Azzi, blue eyes filled with admiration, desire, and something softer underneath it all. “Is this ok,” she whispers.

Azzi eyes locked with Paige’s takes a heavy breath, the gentleness of Paige in this moment causing her entire body to react in ways she didn’t know possible, nods her head slowly,

With this Paige unbuttons Azzi’s shorts before slipping her hand in, the curly haired girl underneath her lifting her back off the bed in desire as she’s able to finally let her control slip away, just how Paige had wished for.

[wileycap]

Vi's journey broke my fucking heart and I do not see anyone talking about it, so I will.

The Writing In Arcane Was Very Good, Actually (SPOILERS)

The core of her character is that Vi lets herself be hurt. Again and again, and she asks nothing for herself. In S1E2 when she's talking to Vander, she says "I grew up knowing I'm less than them, that my place is down here. I want Powder to have more than that, and I'm willing to fight for it."

Not "I want more than that." She says "I grew up knowing I'm less" and even then, she's already accepted it. It's fine if it happens to her.

When Jinx blows up the council, again it's "I can do this alone, nobody else has to get hurt." She doesn't want the badge, but she takes it anyways because if she doesn't, Caitlyn will be hurt. So it's fine if it's her principles that get tossed out. It's fine if it happens to her.

When Caitlyn hurts her, again - she directs all the harm at herself. She doesn't grab Cait and beat the shit out of her for hurting her. She goes and becomes a pit fighting alcoholic so that she can keep the pain where it belongs, with her. It's fine if it happens to her.

And then... Jinx comes to get her, and they get Vander. She gets to see Jinx be a big sister, try to carry more so that Isha could carry less. And she sees Jinx lose what she lost. (I want you to hurt like you hurt me today and I want you to lose like I lose when I play.)

She tries to help Jinx again and she gets hit with another betrayal. Except this time... Jinx wants to make the same choice Vi always makes. "You don't need to feel guilty about being happy. You deserve to be with her." She's no longer judging Vi or resenting her, because after Isha, how could she? She understands Vi. She understands her too well.

When she's completely broken down, Caitlyn comes in. And Caitlyn isn't upset or angry, no, Caitlyn knew she'd go to her sister and planned for it. Caitlyn accepted her and her need and put aside her own need for revenge.

This is followed by the best sex scene I've ever seen. Now, you have to understand that sex scenes make me uncomfortable, so this is like, high praise from me.

Vi expects to be punished. "Say it. 'I told you so.'" She is literally imprisoned by her mind (wow, filmmaking 101!). And she expects to be taken out of there, to be put back into the fight (like the first time Cait set her free) so she can be hurt and be useful.

And instead, Caitlyn opens the door and steps inside. Into Vi's prison ("Walls of self-doubt and accepted limitation.") To give her understanding and love and most importantly, time. They have more important things to do. There's an invasion coming. And still, Caitlyn puts Vi first.

And Vi lets her. She initiates it, she leans into the comfort and intimacy being offered. It's actually beautiful.

(And then Jinx comes back to help, too, - healing that wound - and even though she loses her again... she can allow herself to move on and be happy. Like she never could before.)

(And we know Jinx survives, but she leaves because yes, sometimes you have to walk away. Sometimes meaningful healing can't happen if you're stuck in the same situation.)

(And Caitlyn figures it out, but doesn't tell anyone. She learned how to forgive and move on, and she's letting Vi do the same.)

"You've got a good heart. Don't ever lose it, no matter how the world tries to break you."

She didn't.

[causenessus]

leaving soon. | dazai o.

dazai x f!reader

written in 3rd person bc i can

song recc: the fear of losing this by florist

word count: 2.8k words

notes: use of pet names angel, love, and bella; WARNING for mentions about suicidal ideation,, not heavy angst, it's just dazai. and also the reader thinking she'd be fine dying if she's with dazai. not in a manipulative way, just a way of loving him in every universe and state <3 lots of hurt/comfort, overthinking, and insecurity. basically both dazai and the reader are horrible at communication so they have to figure it out together. established relationship implied. takes place during cannibalism arc after dazai is shot. civilian or ada reader not specified on purpose. thank you for reading!

she was the first person they called when they found out.

well– the first after an ambulance had been called. after that, she was the next most important person to call.

not important enough to have any part in saving his life, though. not just as a doctor; she wasn’t good enough to prevent him from thinking of killing himself every day. she wasn’t important enough to keep him from throwing himself into the way of danger, not worth enough that he thought about what would affect her before he wound up in these situations–

it was wrong of her to be angry at him for something like this. she knew what she’d been getting into when she first met him. when she first started falling for him, and when she confessed. she knew all along what he was like, and she still loved him anyway.

yes, he had a past. yes, he joked about committing suicide every day. yes, he was reckless. yes, he was a mastermind. yes, he was selfless and willing to always put everything above himself. yes, he was bad at communication. yes, he was worthy of love. yes, he could give love.

relationships were a work in progress. they would always be until the day she ended up buried next to him, hopefully. deep down, a part of her had already forgiven him for the episode of panic and stress she'd had as soon as she'd recieved the broken call from atsushi. but the other half knew it also wasn’t wrong of her to feel upset when she'd heard that her boyfriend had been shot in an alleyway.

she knew him well enough to know he knew he was putting himself in risk of danger in that alleyway, whatever he'd been doing there. she reckoned he probably knew he was going to be shot, too. and if he knew all that, she just wanted to know why he didn’t give her a heads-up. she wasn't asking for all the details. even just a text, moments before, saying "hey. i'm about to end up in the hospital. someone might will call you. don't be too worried." she didn't expect them dating to miraculously change him into a man who didn't crave death at every moment, but had it been so wrong of her to hope that maybe being in a relationship would cause him to think twice before getting himself in situations like these, no matter how much he assured her he knew what he was doing?

one day, as much as she hoped it wouldn’t be the case, she feared there’d be something he failed to account for. one day, he'd go missing, and no one would be able to find him, and it'd stay that way. she feared one day they wouldn't be so lucky as to find him bleeding out in an alleyway when there was still a chance to save him.

but there she went again, being angry at dazai, then being angry at herself for being angry at him, and then shoving down her feelings before she even had the time to process them. because she didn’t want to be the overbearing girlfriend who always plagued and worried about her boyfriend, but she couldn’t help it when her boyfriend quite literally wanted and was trying to kill himself.

everyone she had talked to had agreed that it wasn’t wrong of her to feel worried about her partner and that they would support her if she decided to distance herself from him for her own sake, but she could never bring herself to do that. if anything, to be completely honest, she’d rather she die with him than leave him to die on his own. 

maybe she was weird or morbid for thinking that way. maybe she needed to seek help. but all she knew was that she truly loved him, but maybe he didn’t feel the same way. maybe their entire relationship was just temporary for him and he didn’t want to die with her at his side. maybe death was something sacred for him that he wanted to experience alone, or she just wasn't the perfect one for him and he was still looking for that "special one." she wasn’t entirely sure what his thoughts were on the concept, or what he really, truly thought of her. she didn't know if she was really of any value to him.

maybe she could figure it out for herself. maybe she was a horrible, terrible, awful girlfriend for not knowing what her boyfriend thought of committing suicide with her, but she had no idea. she wasn't sure what was okay for her to bring up, and what wasn't. how was one supposed to go about asking their partner's opinion on a double suicide? she had been frozen by this fear as she stood outside her hospital door, but it was something that had been on her mind long before now. the fear of bringing up something that might ruin their relationship started even before they were dating; with even the thought of confessing her feelings. even though she'd gotten past that, it never became easier bringing up touchy subjects with him, out of fear of triggering something without the intention to.

she had been stuck outside his door for more than ten minutes since she'd been left by a nurse to open his door and check on him. she was unsure of what to think of herself, and what to do. her hand was fisted and raised, ready to knock but then she decided ‘i’m the first person on his emergency contacts list. i don’t need to knock; he’s mine. he probably wants to see me. i’m his.’  

she swung the door open.

what was she doing with her face? what was she supposed to be saying? why had she decided to come in so abruptly? she should have knocked after all. she was reminded of the fact that she was not enough to stop osamu from wounding up in a hospital in the first place. she didn't have any right to barge in like this.

then, all of her worries melted away when he turned away from the window to see who’d entered his room and his face softened.

“[y/n],” he whispered, and she saw his bandaged hands loosen their grip on the sheets he'd been holding. his shoulders dropped, and his whole demeanor seemed to relax.

“osamu,” she called his name back, letting her body do what felt normal. she was glad it had a sense of what to do, because she felt like she was at a loss for words. if she opened her mouth, she wasn’t sure if a tone of concern or of anger would come out. 

she took a seat in the chair pulled up to the side of his bed, loosely intertwining her fingers with his nearby hand. the bandages that adorned his skin didn’t bother her. in fact, she was often overcome with an urge to kiss over every inch of his body and tell him how beautiful he was. the hospital gown he wore was what bothered her; she thought everything about him was beautiful and she couldn’t stand the thought that there’d be a scar on his body because of her. because she hadn’t done a good enough job of telling him how loved and important he was. that he didn’t think of himself nor her as important enough to keep himself out of danger.

her lips were pressed into a grim line as she ran a thumb over his knuckles. she wished he would eat more.

“everything go well with the surgery?” she asked, talking softly as if the silent atmosphere in the room was fragile.

he hummed in response, “yeah, they took good care of me. i should be good to leave by tomorrow afternoon.”

her head perked up at the answer, “that soon already? are you sure?”

“yep! as long as i take it easy, they’ll let me go tomorrow which is good. thing are tense between the mafia and agency right now. ranpo and kunikida are fine, but we'll have to work together with them against the one who caused all this, and i’m the only one who can faciliate that.” 

she liked it when he explained everything to her, it made her feel helpful, as if at least he could share his thoughts with someone else rather than keeping them all wound up in his head. she nodded along, trying to push down the concerns she had for him. the mafia wasn’t always nice to work with; even if dazai was right and their cooperation was the best course of action, that didn’t mean they would agree to it–at least not without a fight.

“you are going to take it easy when you’re discharged. right?” she gave him a look, in which he gave her a wry smile in return.

“of course i will, bella! who do you think i am? and i’ll have you, my guardian angel to make sure of it, won’t i?” he laughed, squeezing her hand as he talked boldly.

it had been easy for her to forget that he would want her by his side but the reminder made her smile, “you’re right. i'll be there to make sure you don’t hurt yourself again.” she almost added something else to her sentence but the "again" spoke well for itself, she thought. she didn’t want to ruin the mood so she kept it vague and her mouth shut. dazai looked at her expectedly, as if he was waiting for her to say something else but she only smiled at him, “i think i’m going to go take a walk real quick, just to clear my head. is that okay? i’ll be back soon.” she made an excuse as she stood up, turning to walk towards the door of his room before a hand gripped her wrist, pulling her backward.

she yelped as she fell onto the bed, flush with his chest. she could feel and hear the groan he let out when she hit his torso and on reflex tried to push off of him to lighten the pressure on his wound but his grip remained strong around her wrist, pulling her closer.

the prick of pain that shot through his stomach was a small price to pay for having his girlfriend on his chest, where he had wanted her from the moment she’d walked through the door. he wrapped his arms around her back, keeping her secure and from escaping his arms.

she allowed herself to be held in his arms, knowing it was useless to try to fight it now. she sighed, trying to enjoy the moment as her ear rested against his chest, allowing her to hear his heartbeat while she looked out the hospital window to the orange colored sky. 

“why take a walk away from me?” he mumbled playfully, nose buried in her hair. when she didn't respond, he placed a gentle hand on both sides of her face, tenderly guiding her head up to look her in his eyes; warm, chocolate-brown pools of adoration.

this is pathetic.

how did she come in here upset and worried about him and end up being the one comforted?

“you’re thinking too much in that pretty head of yours, angel. you’re thinking way too much about things way out of your control. that isn’t good. i can’t let you worry yourself to death like this, love. you gotta let me know what’s up. pretty please?” his voice was soft and pleading, but she winced at the mention of the word death, averting her eyes from him, instead opting to lay her head back on his chest, focusing on the steady rhythm inside of it. it was the surest sound in the world, the only thing she felt that could silence her head at the moment.

“sorry, angel,” he brushed a hand through her hair again, “didn’t mean to upset you, but i can tell, you know. and it makes me worried. i want to know what’s upsetting you so much.”

“says you,” she replied, huffing in frustration. he waited for her to continue, and she did, “you think you’re worried? i’m worried. about you! you’re the problem.” his fingers stopped moving at the mention of him. 

“‘don’t worry about me,’ i can already tell what you're about to say. ‘yes i know i was shot but don’t worry it was all part of an elaborate plan i didn’t tell you about after promising to try to communicate better,’” she mimicked him, trying to explain to him her point. she feels the hum in his chest as he processes her words and starts to grasp it. “it’s just– i’m sorry if that’s mean. and i’m sorry for worrying because you don’t need that added to your plate, but i can’t help it. i didn’t want to tell you this at the start because i don’t want to overstep your boundaries or give you one more thing to fix. i don’t care much about you breaking your promise to communicate better because it’s a lot to ask and it can’t always be done. i know you’ve had a difficult past and i don’t mind, osamu. i’m not mad, all i want is for you to be safe. and i know that’s a lot to ask from a suicidal man and that’s why i don’t know where i have a say in all of this– but i love you and it hurts for me to see you put yourself in danger so carelessly without telling anyone, as if i’m not enough to make you think twice before injuring yourself. sometimes– sometimes it feels like i’m just something for you to toy with before you die. something for you to entertain yourself with before you inevitably end up leaving. and i don’t want you to leave. i don’t want you to die, or at the very least without me– but i also know that’s nearly impossible to ask of you.”

he had started to rub her scalp as some sort of apology while she’d explained her feelings to him, and she still couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. she felt pathetic and weak with the tears in her eyes, and even worse when they began to slip from her eyes, no doubt seeping through his shirt and bandages. “you have every right and place to say whatever you would like, bella.” he spoke up after a beat of silence as he thought. still, it didn’t make her feel any better. he could just be saying what he knew she wanted to hear, but what she wanted was the truth. how much time did she have left with him? how much was she worth? was he leaving soon?

“you're the closest person to me and you deserve to say whatever you would like and to know what’s going on. i love you, too,” she could practically hear the smile in his voice as he said those words which made her face turn red as she turned away from the window to hide it in his hospital gown. her own confession had slipped out of her without a second thought, but she hadn’t meant for this to be a serious moment of testing how much he loved her. “i wouldn’t have agreed to try to change if i didn’t want to, but that’s why i made you that promise. i do want to change and be better for you, whatever that entails. i’d rather talk to you about my plans even if you don’t like them so that you know what’s going on rather than leaving you in the dark. because i never want you to feel like you’re just a toy or anything of the sort. you’re so much more than that, bella, and i should show as much. i’ve been and am forever grateful for your love and patience, [y/n]. i don’t deserve either. ask whatever you want of me and i will do it. will you give me another chance, my angel?”

“of course,” she mumbled in response, nuzzling and kissing the center of his chest, finally feeling the truth and love behind his words spread through her body like a warm fire. “i love you,” she whispered, not expecting him to hear it.

“i love you too,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her scalp.

a noise from the window made them both jump as they turned to see a spotted orange cat with a sardine in its mouth waiting outside. it was posed too well to be a normal cat, and the pair shared a glance as she moved to start to get off of him.

“do you want to come along with me this time, bella?”

“always.”

[marril96]

Safe Haven

Chapter 3: Cold as Revenge

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: After months of no contact, Agatha shows up at your door badly injured, and it’s up to you to help her.

Previous chapter.

"Can we go to bed now? I'm dead tired." Agatha asked. There was a pause, and then she added, "No pun intended."

Very funny. "Don't you wanna eat something?"

She shook her head. "I just want to get some sleep. It's a bit hard to rest when your hands are tied behind your back and someone's kicking you in the ribs the entire time."

A pang of rage burst within you. You weren't just going to watch her kill them. You would kill them yourself. "Sweetheart—"

"Save the pity party. Just get me to bed," Agatha said.

So you did. You walked her to the bedroom, and helped her remove her dirty clothes and change into a clean pair of pajamas. It took everything, all the strength you could muster, for you to not break into sobs as your eyes fell upon her naked body. There was barely an inch of her left untarnished. Bruises in various shapes lined her arms and legs.

Her abdomen and back bore the worst of it. Her skin, naturally creamy and fair, was painted purple.

This wasn't the purple that suited her.

This wasn't her purple.

"Want something for the pain?" you asked. You didn't have any hard stuff, but, given her condition, even an Ibuprofen could make a difference.

Agatha shook her head, nestling under the covers. "I'm fine. I just need to sleep it off."

Would she be able to sleep at all?

You doubted you would be able to sleep, and you weren't even the one who was injured.

"I'll run you a bath in the morning," you said.

She beamed at the prospect. "Will you join me?"

"Of course." That was the reason the two of you had chosen a large bath. "Now, rest up. I'll be with you shortly."

She looked at you with wide, sad puppy eyes. "You're leaving?"

"Just to take a shower," you assured her.

"Stay," she said in a small voice. Fragile. Broken.

It just about broke your heart. "I have to—"

"Please."

She knew you could never tell her no when she pleaded in that tone of voice.

Others could — and did, every time — but never you. They didn't know what it took for her to beg. They didn't know how vulnerable, how desperate she had to be in order to do it. Or if they did, they didn't care.

You did. You cared too much.

Agatha knew that, and, though manipulation came to her as easily as breathing, she never took advantage of it.

When she would look at you like that and say please in that small, sad voice, you knew it was genuine. You knew she needed you.

"Okay," you relented. "But only until you fall asleep."

Her lip quivered.

Those hunters were still out there, no doubt looking everywhere for her. Even if they couldn't enter this house, they were a danger; not just to her, but to you, as well. They could burn this house down. Blow it up. Shoot through the walls.

Neither one of you was safe.

Agatha's fear was justified. She was a target for as long as they were among the living.

"I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you again," you told her, squeezing her hand. "I promise."

You laid down beside her. Instantly, with a pained hiss, Agatha shifted towards you, resting her head on your chest.

"Are you sure about this? It's not the most comfortable position," you said.

"I'll live," she said. "Hold me."

So, you did.

You cradled her to you, careful not to hurt her. Your fingers caressed her hair, played with the locks, twisted and twined them. Her heart beat close to your chest, a steady, even rhythm in line with her breathing.

She was comfortable.

She felt safe.

You stayed that way for over two hours, long after Agatha had drifted off to sleep. You didn't have the heart to leave her yet, even temporarily.

Maybe you could stay in tonight. Maybe you could postpone your plan for the morning.

No.

It had to be done tonight.

The sooner it was dealt with, the better.

There was no way of knowing when the potion Agatha was injected with would wear off. It could be tomorrow. It could be in a week, a month, hell, maybe even a year. The people who'd captured her — who'd tortured her, broken her — wouldn't give up until they got their hands on her again.

If they were to corner you, you could fight them off. She couldn't. She had no way to defend herself.

Letting them live was too much of a risk.

As carefully as you could, you wiggled out from under Agatha and got up from the bed. I'm doing this for you, you thought as you fixed the covers and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

There was nothing you wouldn't do for her.

Even if she hated you for it.

Eventually, she would come to understand why you did it. Why you had to do it.

She'd forgiven you once. She would do so again.

***

It was well after sunset when you returned home. You hoped Agatha was still asleep, that you would have some time to lie down with her after you cleaned yourself up. You could use some cuddles after the night you'd had, and you were certain she could use a few, herself.

No such luck, though; your eyes fell upon her as you emerged from the basement, seated on the couch with a mug of coffee in hand, brows furrowed, lips tight, like a parent catching their teenage child sneaking back in after a night of hard partying.

You were ready to chastise her, to tell her she should be in bed and rest, when the scene before you set in and your mind caught up with what you were seeing. Her hair hung down her shoulders in thick, loose curls. Her fingers, wrapped around the mug, were black. She was clad in her witch outfit, the purples and blues clinging to her body, contrasting the creaminess of her skin.

Her face was flawless, no traces of the bruises that used to paint it mere hours ago. The cracks and tears on her lips were gone. She was sitting upright, her breathing normal, unbothered.

Her power was back.

She was back.

"You're awake," you said in awe, unsure of what to comment on first. So many emotions were coursing through you; excitement, relief, joy. She was okay. She could protect herself now.

She was back to her old self.

"I sure am. Where were you? I was cold," she said with a whiny pout. It looked oddly in conflict with the way she was dressed.

"You poor baby," you teased. You sized her up, took in every inch of her. God, she was delectable. "You don't look cold now."

Agatha smirked. "You dig it?"

She knew you did.

"This a show for me?" you asked.

"Don't flatter yourself, honey. Fashion shows are beneath me." She shrugged dramatically. "I'm just enjoying having my power back."

Right. Sure. "It looks good on you."

"Everything looks good on me."

True.

"I'm glad you're okay," you said.

She beckoned you with a finger, and, as if under a spell, you went to her. You removed the coffee from her hands, putting it down on the coffee table, and leaned down to kiss her.

Her lips were warm. Inviting. Ravenous. She drank you in, pulled you closer. Devoured you like she devoured the power, the lifeline of all those witches.

Unlike them, you welcomed it. A willing victim. You craved it. Ached for it. Begged for more.

And more she gave.

Lowering yourself to her lap, you let her deepen the kiss. God, you missed this. Missed her.

These past few months were hell, and not just because of the guilt that was eating you alive. Not being around Agatha was killing you. Not feeling her touch, not having her mouth on yours, not smelling her hair or feeling the static of her magic on your skin…

You might as well have died.

And now you came back to life.

"So good to have you back," you said as you parted for air.

"So good to be back," Agatha said confidently. "Speaking of, what were you doing in the basement for so long?"

So much for the surprise. And here you thought you were being careful. "Did I wake you when I came back in?"

"No. I was already looking for you when I heard all the… whatever the hell that was."

Yeah. That. You were hoping she hadn't heard that little blunder.

"It was supposed to be a surprise."

Agatha raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"For when you wake up. A little get-well present. You need your purple to really enjoy it. I thought it'd be nice if you had something to look forward to while you heal."

A wide smile bloomed on her mouth. "Is that why you're covered in blood?"

Your shirt was all but soaked in it, the rusty color having taken over. You'd planned on trashing it and taking a shower before seeing Agatha, but, as always, plans were one thing, and reality was another.

"It's not mine," you clarified.

"I can see that," she said, a tad amused. "Whose is it?"

Though, by the look on her face, you could tell she already had a pretty good idea.

Another surprise spoiled.

"Those hunters aren't gonna be a problem for you anymore," you said.

Their screams still echoed in your head. Pleas for mercy, for forgiveness. Where was their mercy when they were torturing Agatha because she wouldn't betray you? Where was their mercy when they were kicking her, punching her, breaking her? Where was their mercy when she was begging for it?

Payback was a bitch, and so were you.

"Is that so?" Agatha asked.

A part of you expected her to be mad at you for taking the opportunity of revenge away from her, but she was taking it in stride. If anything, she seemed proud. Satisfied.

She approved.

Your heart warmed with relief.

"No one hurts my girl and gets away with it," you said, looking her straight in the eyes to drive the point clear. If it came to it, you would tear the world apart for her. Would set it on fire and watch it burn.

Agatha preened. She loved your protective side. "You took quite a risk," she chided, though it was all for show. She knew you could handle yourself. Your power was nowhere near her level, but you were far from a defenseless kitten.

"I sneaked up on them." That was the only way you could think of for them to have successfully injected her with the magic-blocking potion. So, why not return the favor? "Isn't that what they did to you?"

"Indeed, it is," she confirmed. "They're cowards."

"Now they're dead cowards."

Agatha grinned, then glared as you took a sip of her coffee. You ignored it, instead taking a few more sips, eyes never leaving hers.

As if she would ever do anything to hurt you. Someone else may lose their head — or hand, or mouth — for an infraction like this, but not you. You had the privilege of testing her limits and living to tell the tale.

If anything, you were doing it for the glare itself. It was adorable. She was adorable. Like a hissing kitten attempting to look tough, imposing, not realizing the act only made it cuter.

"Wanna see what I got you?"

Agatha's eyes lit up. You didn't even have to ask.

Taking hold of her hand, you led her to the basement. Your heart thumped loudly as you descended into the dark, dimly lit room, anticipating building, welling up like a geyser about to burst.

It's been a while since you treated the woman you loved to something nice.

She deserved a pick-me-up.

A form laid on the cold ground before you. The woman's hair was light; it used to be perfectly straight, but now it resembled a bird's nest, messy and unkempt. Courtesy of you. Bitchfights were, well, a bitch. Her clothes were tattered. A piece of fabric was wrapped tightly around her mouth; a makeshift gag you'd had to make out of a random shirt you'd found when you'd accosted her.

For a witch, she'd done lousy work on protecting her home. You'd blown through the door and walked straight in without a single obstacle.

She was more powerful than you, you could feel it, but you were on a revenge mission. She never stood a chance.

Apparently, she hated Agatha — and, by association, you — more than she hated witch hunters. "Something had to be done about that witch killer and her girl-toy," she'd spat like it was poison. That had earned her a punch to the face and a blast through the wall.

It wasn't like she was gonna get to go back to that house, anyway.

Her fate was sealed the moment she'd decided to help the hunters.

It was an enemy-of-my-enemy sort of deal. They would look the other way if they'd happened to spot her in exchange for her serving them the worst of the worst on a silver platter. They'd even get a two-for-the-price-of-one discount, with you thrown in as a bonus. Agatha's willing plaything, or so the witch bitch had described you as.

Look how that had turned out for them all.

You'd offered one of the hunters the same kind of deal: the witch's identity in exchange for his life.

And had promptly slit his throat as soon as the name had left his mouth.

You weren't in the business of making deals with people who'd brought harm to your beloved.

You'd ended up having to tie the witch up with bindings embedded with runes. The fighting was getting exhausting, and you were kinda in a rush; Agatha needed you home. So you'd pulled out your secret weapon that you'd brought along for this explicit purpose.

It was cheating of the worst kind, but this was war, and nothing was fair. If she'd wanted a fair fight, she wouldn't have banded together with a group that had been persecuting your kind for centuries in hopes that they would do her dirty work.

All things considered, things were going well.

There was a small hitch when you'd brought her home and had tried to get to the basement. She'd made a run for it, knocking down a vase that you'd never liked, anyway, which had made a loud noise that you were sure would wake Agatha, but you'd had the situation back under control rather quickly.

You'd drawn a circle around her, a barrier that ensured that she couldn't get away. Even if she were to break out of the runic bindings, her power wouldn't get her anywhere. It wouldn't do a single thing.

As long as she remained within the circle, she was yours — Agatha's, actually — to do with as you pleased.

The witch rose up to her knees as you and Agatha came into view. She stared up at you, defiant.

You knew she wouldn't stay that way for too long.

"She's all yours," you said.

Agatha was in awe, licking her lips as if she'd just smelled her favorite food, fresh and steaming on the platter in front of her. Cooling off just got her.

"You've outdone yourself, my love," she said, squeezing your hand to emphasize that she meant it. Every single word.

The praise was music to your ears. Your heart skipped a beat. "I'll leave you to it."

"You're not staying for the show?"

Was that disappointment in her tone?

"I had my fun with the hunters," you said. "Now it's your turn."

Fair was fair.

Agatha pouted, but gave a nod. "Why don't you prepare that bath you promised me? I'll have my fun, and then we can both relax."

The prospect was more than appealing. You could already imagine her naked body against yours, bursting with new magic, the static making you shiver and quiver in all the right places.

"Don't you want some more time with her?" you asked.

"Trust me, honey, it'll be more than enough," she said, lips curling into a wicked smirk. Her eyes flashed purple; a threat, a warning of unsavory things to come.

The witch flinched, terrified.

Good.

Now she knew how Agatha felt. Now she knew how you felt when the woman you loved more than life itself had shown up at your door, battered and broken.

Karma was a bitch.

You pecked Agatha on the cheek. "Have fun, sweetheart."

"Oh, I will," she purred in that delicious way that promised trouble, that promised mischief and mayhem.

She was going to enjoy this. More than she already was.

Throwing one final glance at the doomed witch, you went up the stairs, making sure to close the door behind you.

These weren't the kind of screams you were in the mood to listen to.

Even if Agatha was the one to cause them.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @alsoknownasmel @swan-queen-is-magic @tardisesandtitans @ahintofchaos @fruityhahn @midnight-lestrange

[shuavez]

MORE THAN ENOUGH — nicholas a. chavez

masterlist | awkward

summary — three years on from your fated summer reunion with nicholas in lake como, you’ve almost got it all—your man, a sweet condo in manhattan, probably a benz. but there is just one small thing missing. inspired by more than enough by alina baraz.

tags/warnings — wine consumption. nic is a simp.

a/n — this is sort of an epilogue to awkward, cause i really love these two. if you’re new here and discovered this through tags, it’s not necessary to read awkward first but it will help give this some context, and it’s a fun (long) read about nic as well. feel free to check it out, linked above!! kisses <3

THREE YEARS LATER

The evening began in a quiet, understated wine bar tucked away in Manhattan—one of those places Josh and Dae insisted on for their regular meetups with you and Nic. The atmosphere was cozy, intimate, with low lighting and the kind of jazz playing softly in the background that made the whole world feel miles away.

Three years had passed since that life-changing week in Lake Como, and so much had happened. You and Nic returned to New York feeling like the slate between you had finally been wiped clean. Nic worked tirelessly to rebuild your trust, showing you in countless small ways that he was fully committed—not just to you but to the life you could have together. After about a year, he’d surprised you by suggesting you look for a place together, a space that would be entirely yours.

Now, you were settled into a light-filled Manhattan apartment with just the right mix of modern elegance and comfort. Nic’s long hours as a prosecutor often meant late nights, but he was never too busy to ask about your day or bring you coffee just the way you liked it. You’d transitioned back into working part-time in the public sector, performing oral surgery for underserved communities. It was demanding work, but it made you feel grounded, like you were making a real difference.

The four of you had fallen into a natural rhythm—dinners like this one, easy group texts full of jokes and updates, and the kind of camaraderie that made New York feel a little smaller.

You sat across from Dae now, swirling the last of your wine in its glass as she and Josh shared a look—one of those silent exchanges that made you certain they were plotting something. Nic leaned back in his chair beside you, his hand resting casually on the table, his fingers brushing yours just enough to feel his presence.

Josh cleared his throat dramatically, earning a playful eye roll from Dae before he announced, “So… we’ve been talking.”

Your brow furrowed as you glanced between them, curiosity flickering. “About?”

Josh leaned forward, his grin widening. “About starting a family.”

The words landed with an almost tangible weight, followed by a beat of silence as the revelation sank in.

“Wait—seriously?” you asked, a smile breaking across your face.

Dae nodded, her confidence tempered by an endearing flicker of vulnerability. “It’s something we’ve been talking about for a while, and now… it just feels right.”

Nic straightened in his chair, his expression softening as he broke into a warm smile. “That’s incredible. You guys are going to be amazing parents.”

“Unbelievable parents,” you echoed, reaching across the table to clasp Dae’s hand. “I’m so happy for you.”

Josh, ever the joker, smirked. “You’re just excited to be the cool aunt and uncle, admit it.”

You laughed, already imagining it—Nic teaching their hypothetical kid about baseball while you supplied an endless stream of snacks. “Obviously. The coolest.”

Nic chuckled, the sound low and easy. “I call dibs on corrupting them with sweets.”

Josh groaned, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “We’re doomed already.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you leaned into the playful banter. “Great. Just don’t come crying to me when I have to be the one filling their cavities later.”

Dae straightened, clapping her hands in amusement. “Perfect. Built-in dental services. You’re definitely on babysitting duty.”

“Oh, no,” you teased, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “I’ll spoil them rotten, but I draw the line at pediatric extractions.”

The conversation shifted after that, full of laughter and teasing—Josh insisting he’d be the “fun dad” while Dae rolled her eyes and said they’d be lucky if the kid didn’t end up with his dramatics. It was light and easy, but beneath it was something deeper. A sense of growth, of possibility.

For a moment, as you watched the four of you talking, drinking, sharing pieces of your lives, it struck you: this wasn’t just nostalgia. This wasn’t trying to recreate the past. This was better. You’d all grown older, wiser, and in many ways closer.

By the time you made your way upstairs to the rooftop bar, the night was bathed in the warm, ambient glow of string lights, the kind that blurred softly against the glittering skyline. You leaned into the railing, watching the city stretch endlessly before you, alive with its steady pulse. It was the kind of view that usually made you feel small, the kind that reminded you of the relentless chaos waiting just beyond these walls.

But tonight? It felt different.

Dae stood beside you, her shoulder brushing yours in that casual, familiar way she always had. She was rambling about the kind of stroller she and Josh might need one day, though the idea of her being a mom still felt surreal. You glanced over at her and smiled—your chaotic, vibrant best friend who had somehow grown into someone ready to raise a whole human. The thought made your chest swell with a strange mix of awe and affection.

Behind you, Josh and Nic were still at the bar. You could hear Josh teasing Nic about something, his laugh loud and unrestrained in that way only Josh’s could be. Nic’s voice rumbled in response, low and steady, and though you couldn’t hear the words, you could picture the slight smirk that always came when he was holding his ground.

These were your people.

You let your gaze drift back to the skyline, a soft smile tugging at your lips. For so long, you’d felt like you were constantly chasing something—your career, your ambitions, the life you thought you were supposed to live. And it had been good. Fulfilling, even. But in this moment, it hit you just how much you’d been missing.

Here, surrounded by the people you loved most in the world, everything felt... right. The noise, the stress, the endless demands of life outside these moments didn’t matter. You weren’t worried about your next surgery or Nic’s next trial. You weren’t thinking about deadlines or schedules or the million other things that filled your days.

Right here, it was perfect.

It was like home.

The sound of footsteps behind you pulled you from your thoughts. You turned just as Nic reached your side, his expression softening when his eyes met yours. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm, his hand brushing yours like a quiet promise.

“Hey,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Josh and Dae hovered a few steps away, exchanging a glance that looked suspiciously like they were in on something. You barely had time to register it before Nic stepped closer, his hand still lightly holding yours.

He cleared his throat, and suddenly, the air shifted. The easy banter faded, replaced by something deeper.

“I need to say something,” he began, his voice low but steady. You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone.

His words came slowly, deliberately. “These past few years have been... everything I didn’t know I needed. Coming back here, building a life with you—it’s more than I ever thought I’d have. More than I deserve.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he squeezed your hand, silencing you gently.

“Let me finish,” he said, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Because as much as I love what we have now, I want more. I want it all.”

And then he was pulling something from his pocket, his movements careful, almost reverent. The sight of the small velvet box made your breath catch.

“Marry me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Because this? Right here, with you, with them—it’s everything. It’s home. And I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you know how much you mean to me.”

The world blurred for a moment, your focus narrowing on him—his earnest expression, the way his hand trembled slightly as he held the ring, the hope in his eyes.

“Yes,” you said, your voice breaking on the word as tears spilled over your cheeks. “Yes, of course.”

The grin that spread across Nic’s face was breathtaking, like the sun breaking through a storm. He slid the ring onto your finger, and then he was pulling you into his arms, holding you as though he’d never let go.

You barely noticed Josh and Dae until they were barreling into you both, cheering loud enough to draw stares from the rest of the rooftop. Josh clapped Nic on the back while Dae hugged you tightly, her voice shaking with laughter and excitement as she whispered, “I told you this would happen someday.”

And as you stood there, surrounded by laughter and love and the sparkling city below, you felt it again—that quiet, undeniable certainty.

This was home.

[4acoffee]

a snippet of the ex jy fic i’m cooking up…

based off this lil blurb

-

you go a little hot all over when you find that those honeycomb eyes are now very much trained on you, blatantly ignoring the words of the Master Diviner from right next to him as she prattles on passionately about something you're sure is very important for the good of the Loufu and should require his full attention.

his gaze is far more piercing than you remember.

a little too sharp, too perceptive — penetrating through you in a way that makes you worry that he may just know every single thought and intention running through your head and have physically keep yourself from squirming.

he's gotten taller too, you realize with a flicker of irritation.

he was always a head taller than most, but now, even from across the room, you can feel how he towers over everyone else, commanding attention like he was born for it.

and you think, maybe he really was.

he looks exactly how you would imagine the Great Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Alliance Cloud Knights: powerful, confident, a beacon of intelligence and experience, with a frame that commands respect. thick, sturdy thighs—

— you have to physically shake the last few, incredibly uninvited thoughts from your head and turn away from his overbearing gaze to refocus on your council, standing together in a little circle, looking very out of place and uncomfortable in the bustling unfamiliarity of the Seat of Divine Foresight.

Your heart twists with guilt, knowing you can’t provide them any more reassurance than the fact that you were once close with the General. A small smile slips onto your lips each time you meet their eyes, but you can feel the tension in the air growing heavier with every passing moment.

a moment later, you feel the weight of a heavy arm curl over your shoulders. an all too familiar flash of silver hair tickles the edge of your vision and you immediately know who it belongs to.

the tension in your shoulders tightens once again, and though you try to shift away, his hold doesn’t falter. the confliction that's been brewing up inside you since you first stepped foot back on the Loufu flares up all over again with full force.

your struck with the realization that you can’t decide if you want to pull away as would be appropriate, or lean into the painfully familiar comfort of his presence. the kind of comfort you have no right to be missing.

the room has gone unnervingly silent, all eyes on the General now, but you can’t focus on them. your mind keeps drifting back to those years when things were simpler, before everything fell apart.

you remember how quickly you left, how you never even bothered to offer a proper goodbye. and now you're back, not out of the craving of your heart, but to plead to him for help.

you can feel it in the air—the weight of unspoken words between you and the general, like a wall you can’t quite break down. The arm on your shoulder is still there, but it feels less like reassurance now and more like an unspoken claim, an unrelenting reminder of the past you left behind.

a soft laugh escapes the General’s lips, but it’s not warm, not even close, it’s something darker, and it makes the skin of your arms go cold, you have to suppress the shiver threatening to wrack through your body.

and when he speaks, it cuts through the tension like a blade.

“well, hello” he begins, his voice dripping with something too heavy to ignore. "look who finally decided to come pay me a visit."

you stiffen at the words, but you know you can’t afford to show any signs of being so deeply affected right now. not with so many eyes on you.

his hand tightens on your shoulder, and you can almost feel the bitterness in his touch. he must know what this feels like for you— the weight of returning to someone you once left behind—and he is blatantly using that knowledge to dig the roots of his anger deep under your skin.

he meets your eyes when you finally gather the conviction to look up at him, his gaze flickering with something unreadable at whatever he sees in you. but then, like a predator circling its prey, his smirk deepens, and the words that follow seem to pierce straight through your chest.

“You know, if I’d known you were going to return like this, I might have made sure I was better prepared for your... company." The word is slow, deliberate, and he drags it out as though he’s savoring every second of your discomfort.

"After all, last time we met, you were so terribly eager to leave weren’t you? Even after everything we’ve done together.” and you are absolutely shocked at the way he shamelessly rakes his eyes up and down your form, an unspoken but horribly clear implication to everyone.

The council shifts uneasily at your side, but he doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.

the rest of the room, realizing this should likely be a private conversation, begin to go about their business again. but you are all too aware that it’s nothing more than a facade, and that your discussion with the general is anything but.

you keep your gaze fixed on him as steady as you can, already feeling the weight of the upcoming discussion bearing down on you.

“i have to say, it’s impressive,” he continues, lowering his voice just enough to make his words more personal, “the way you thought you could just walk away, disappear, and expect me to forget.” his hand flexes on your shoulder, and the subtle pressure makes your breath catch. “And now you come back, as if nothing happened. how charming of you.”

your fists clench and you shift uncomfortably under the pressure of his arm, not at all expecting him to bring up your shared past so quickly and ruthlessly in front of everyone.

Aeons, how were you going to explain this one to them.

The council remains quiet, clearly unsure how to handle this, but the General doesn’t care. He’s using them, his gaze flickering from one face to the next before landing back on you. His eyes are sharp, studying every little shift in your expression, waiting for you to crack. you think he wants to see you squirm, just a little bit.

The heat in your cheeks flares, and you open your mouth, about to say something—anything—to defend yourself, but the General cuts you off, his voice a smooth but taunting drawl.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he chuckles softly. “i’m sure you’ve come up with a perfectly reasonable excuse.” he glances around the room, giving the council a knowing look. “why else would you come back to me now, sweetheart?”

You can feel the burn of shame curling up like thorns in your throat, spreading over your cheeks, the sting of his words seeping into your skin. You can’t tell if he’s enjoying this—this quiet torture, playing on every vulnerable part of you that never really healed from the past—or if he’s still just trying to process the fact that you’re here, asking for his help.

The Master Diviner, who you didn’t even realize was around to hear your conversation, clears her throat. glancing almost hesitantly at the two of you, and the General seems to snap out of his momentary indulgence, his gaze flicking back to her. But there’s a lingering smirk on his face, one that suggests he’s not quite finished with you yet.

“Well,” he says, his tone shifting slightly, more businesslike now, though you can hear the edge of amusement still lingering in his words. “Let’s not keep the lady waiting. I suppose we should discuss your, issue.” The way he says the word makes it sound almost condescending, as though the problem you’ve come to him with is nothing more than a trivial matter to be solved with ease.

But even as he says it, there’s a subtle, almost imperceptible shift in his posture. He’s no longer the impenetrable wall of passive aggression he was moments ago. Now, there's a flicker of something softer underneath the teasing. you swear you can see the way he shifts, from the General, to your Jing Yuan.

only you have to remind yourself that he is no longer yours.

For now, the council is still too uncomfortable to say much, leaving you to face the weight of his words alone.

You hold his gaze, a deep breath escaping your lips, and you finally find your voice, low but steady.

“I didn’t come here to dredge up the past,” you say, your words measured, even if your heart is pounding in your chest. “I came because I need your help. And whether or not you want to give it to me is up to you.”

Jing Yuan’s smirk fades slightly, and for just a brief moment, you think you see something like regret flash in his eyes—but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

“You’re right,” he says, his voice returning to its usual command. “i suppose, this time It’s up to me then, isn’t it?”

And just like that, the tension between you both returns, thick and palpable. You know that despite everything, he hasn’t made up his mind yet. Whether he’ll help you—or whether he’ll make you regret leaving him all those years ago—remains to be seen.

-

up next.. the general is a pervert 🙂‍↕️👍😀⁉️

[cubiclez]

RANDOM ZERO DAY HCS

TW/CW: SH & GORE: ones that are about this will be in italic

more will be added to this list eventually! updated 12/2/24

-andre is chronically ill in some way. he’s often getting sick and he has days where he throws up often. he refuses to have anyone care for him though, as he feels like he’s independent enough.

-cal experiments with fire. he used to start fires in his backyard when he was a young teenager but after his mom caught him & gave him a lecture about it, he resorted to starting them out in the field before or after shooting with andre.

-andre will wear the same three outfits, while cal has a problem with owning too many clothes, specifically band tees.

-andre’s good in science and history, while cal prefers english for the poetry and writing aspect. they both can’t do math, but andre is somewhat better than cal so he copies off of him, whether andre likes it or not.

-cal and his siblings had a hamster growing up. they probably named it something basic like ‘buddy’, and when it died they buried it in a shoebox and had a funeral for it.

-somewhere in the kriegman household, there are photos of mel sleeping in andre’s bed with him when he was younger.

-speaking of mel, she’s woke the boys up before at a sleepover by jumping on them and trying to get their attention. when they finally got up, turns out she just wanted to be fed.

-rachel is a great artist and often draws portraits and eyes. she’s tried to get cal to stay still for her so she could draw him. cal claims it ‘doesn’t look like him’ to tease her.

-modern-day rachel is also the type to own a flickr, tumblr or pinterest account to post her photos. they would usually be of nature, drawings, her and her friends, sunsets, and outfits.

-rachel has a german shepherd and/or a shih tzu. she also posts tons of photos of her pets.

-if cal lived long enough to witness the peak of gore sites, he would have a big, bulky laptop infected with viruses from visiting them. andre would also watch gore with him and give tons of commentary as he’s watching, while cal just stares.

-sometimes, when everyone’s asleep, cal goes into a dissociative state where he doesn’t feel like he’s real. he’s numb and is almost convinced he can’t feel pain. in response to this he will cut. he does it on his thighs and forearms. he also burns himself if he doesn’t have a blade.

-andre knows about cal’s sh, but cal didn’t tell him. he found out. it confused him a little when he first found out, but he’s still learning how to understand it.

-andre listens to classic rock and some german artists. he’s not too deep into the music scene as cal is, so cal’s always on his ass about ‘name three songs.’

-cal smokes weed before school sometimes. when he can’t do that, he’ll skip class to smoke. he does it out of a water bottle, and andre thinks it’s disgusting and tells him to ‘just get a bong or a pipe if he’s gonna do that’.

-andre has tried thc once with cal. he didn’t like it as he felt it made him ‘too aware and too nervous’. however he will take cbd as a pain reliever.

-cal has done, or at least considered doing shrooms. he knows a few people who can get him some, and the days leading up to zero day make him think ‘i might as well, before i die’.

-andre takes quick, cold showers. cal’s in there for an hour with the water steaming hot. he’s nearly passed out from it, multiple times.

-cal draws on the desks in school all the time. his desk is covered in drawings and it only gets more and more filled as the days go on, because the teachers just gave up on telling him to stop.

-rachel has a couple friends that rebel more than her, so she’s coined as the ‘innocent one’ or the ‘goody two-shoes’. she’s still popular nonetheless, but known as the nice girl.

-modern day cal is a white monster junkie. sometimes he gets the original flavour too.

-it broke rachel’s heart when she found out about cal’s sh. cal never intended to tell anyone, but over time he got a bit too comfortable and accidentally let the fact slip out in conversation. she was scared and after that she would always double-check to make sure cal was okay. cal didn’t know how to accept her kind words, and i like to think he died still not fully believing she cared.