#also i have never even done an ultimate in my life and i never plan to

[lillybean730]

i watched a video that was trying to predict what would happen in the new ultimate raid right before bed last night and my dreams were filled with trying to figure out a very warped version of the hello world mechanic

[littlexdeaths]

scotty doesn’t know - e.m. iii.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: cheating, lil sprinkle of angst, shitty (ex) boyfriend behavior, some major fucking CHEESE (sorry if ur lactose intolerant), reader is the ultimate tease, dom!eddie, light bondage, degradation kink, oral (m receiving), ass/pussy spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected piv sex, cream pie

series masterlist

based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra

a/n: honestly about to dedicate my entire life and blog to @strangerstilinski because i couldn’t have gotten this one done without her help. also thank you everyone who has been so incredibly patient with me, i hope you enjoy xx.

word count: 8.2k

The weekend had come and gone way too fast.

And now Monday was staring you right in the face, and with it— a very important decision.

You spent the rest of your weekend with Eddie, cuddling, talking and just enjoying each other's company. For those two days you were in your own little world together and you honestly never wanted it to end. But realistically you knew you had to go home and return back to your reality.

A reality where you belonged to someone else.

Your parents were absolutely livid by the time you returned home late Sunday evening, getting the biggest lecture of your life after Eddie had dropped you off. To add fuel to the fire, Scott had been calling your house nonstop since Saturday morning, much to your parents' annoyance. But that was a conversation you weren’t ready to have just yet.

Especially not over the phone.

You tossed and turned all night, desperately trying to figure out what you were going to say to him.

Monday was going to be rough, you knew that. But the thought of being able to finally show everyone who your heart really belonged to made things a little easier. You hadn’t exactly let Eddie know of your plans to dump your boyfriend the following day but he could tell something was up.

From the way you kissed him goodbye in his van, right out in the open for anyone to see, including your parents. And the look you gave him as you glanced over your shoulder before continuing up your driveway. It gave him a spark of hope that maybe this wasn’t just a silly fling to you either.

You got ready that morning with shaky hands, tucking one of Eddie’s band tees into your Levi’s. The male had let you wear it home the previous day, mostly because he enjoyed the sight of you in his clothes a little too much. You fiddle with the belt loop of your jeans as you stare at your reflection.

A mixture of nerves and excitement swirled in your belly as you took in your appearance, smoothing your sweaty palms over your thighs.

You can do this.

You take one final look before grabbing your backpack and bound down the stairs with a newfound pep in your step. You can’t help the goofy smile from spreading across your face as you think of seeing Eddie, and it makes all this seem a little easier. You all but ignore the curious looks from your parents as you bolt out the front door.

They hadn’t seen you this happy in months.

But as you drive to school, those pesky nerves begin to creep back in as you pass Scott’s jeep. You will your heart rate to slow as you search for a parking spot. A sense of relief fills your chest when you notice one just a few spots down from a very particular van. Your hands shake as you pull the key from the ignition, taking a moment to collect yourself before you head inside.

You try to ignore the curious eyes of your peers as you enter the school, knowing the events of the previous Friday were still fresh in their minds. And you reach your locker without incident, quickly yanking it open to put away your textbooks. You keep your head down as you walk to your first class, part of you was just waiting for Scott to sneak up on you.

Oddly enough you hadn’t seen him or Eddie all morning, which was extremely unusual. By now Scott would've walked you to first class and you’d be spending your second period study hall with Eddie. So seeing neither of them had your mind racing, and your anxiety spiking.

Had Scott figured it out? Did he confront Eddie?

A pit begins to form in your stomach at the thought, and you don’t think you could ever forgive yourself if Eddie was hurt because of you. You’re so wrapped up in your own head that you don’t notice someone beginning to approach you. A look of determination on their face.

“I need to talk to you.”

The voice startles you, panic rises in your throat as your eyes lift. You are expecting to meet Scott’s icy glare, or the warmth of Eddie’s gaze. But instead, you are met with the soft but stern cerulean of Dustin Henderson.

“Me?” you ask softly, glancing around you before back at the younger male.

“Yes you,” he huffs in annoyance.

“What could you possibly need to talk to me about?” you keep your tone hushed as he takes the empty chair across from you.

“I know you think you’re fooling everyone, but you aren’t fooling me.”

You’re stunned into silence for a moment, fingers gripping the arm of the chair as he raises a brow at you.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t bullshit me, I know you’re sneaking around with Eddie,” he snaps.

Your heart leaps into your throat, mouth drying as Dustin continues to glower at you. A sting of betrayal suddenly fills your chest, and you feel foolish for even thinking Eddie would actually keep this secret between you.

But maybe he was just like Scott, who loved to brag about his sexual conquests to all his friends.

“He wasn’t supposed to tell—”

“He didn’t.” Dustin cuts you off, taking off his hat to run a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’m just not blind.”

You both sit in silence for a moment then, feeling even more confused than you were when he initially sat down.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

Dustin sighs, folding his hands together before he meets your gaze again.

“Eddie doesn’t know I'm here right now and honestly, he’d probably kill me if he did know.” The male winces slightly, before he continues. “But I am through with sitting around and watching one of my best friend’s hearts get stomped on.”

“Dustin, that’s not—”

He holds up his hand to cut you off, shaking his head.

“Just let me finish.”

So you hold your tongue, despite wanting to tell this kid that he has it all wrong.

“Eddie’s a good guy, one of the best I've ever known. And over the past couple of months we’ve all seen a change in him, he’s happier.”

That thought warmed your heart.

“But I can also see how all this is weighing on him. You may not notice it, but it’s definitely there.”

A lump has formed in your throat, watching in silence as the younger boy stands and slings his backpack over his shoulder. He glances at you once more, that look of disdain still written across his features.

“Now I know I can’t tell you what to do, but Eddie doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret.”

And without a glance back in your direction, you’re alone again.

Fourth period.

The moment you’ve been waiting for and simultaneously dreading since Sunday evening. It was the only class you shared with Scott, and while you’d been able to avoid him most of the day— it was time to face the music.

When you step into the classroom, he is already seated in his usual spot in the back corner of the room. The empty desk beside him is practically calling your name.

But your whole body freezes when his eyes meet yours expectantly. And as he begins to wave you over, you make a beeline to the opposite side of the classroom. You keep your eyes low as you find an empty seat, chewing nervously on your lower lip.

When you flip open your notebook, you hear the familiar squeak of sneakers in front of you. Your eyes slowly lift to reveal the hardened features of your boyfriend. His jaw is set in a grimace, and he rests his knuckles harshly on the front of your desk.

“Babe, we need to talk.”

But before you have the chance to reply, Mrs. Jones enters the classroom in a flurry. The bell rings immediately after, signaling the start of class. And it’s hard to tell whether the abrupt noise or his harsh glare causes you to flinch in your seat. She claps her hands to attention then, but Scott still doesn’t move.

“Mr. McGuire, take your seat now.”

He merely scoffs before he stalks away, returning to his own seat. Feeling defeated, you slump down in your chair. Any confidence you’d had this morning seemed to dissolve under his angry gaze. The rest of the class period goes by in a daze, as you can’t seem to focus on anything besides the daggers that Scott has been throwing your way the entire hour.

Once the final bell rings, you shoot up from your seat so fast you nearly take a couple other students in your rush. You practically sprint to your locker, hoping to make it to the lunchroom before Scott can corner you.

But you underestimated his speed, especially when he was sober.

His hand suddenly slams your locker door shut, and he backs you into the cool metal. He leans his palm against the line of lockers, closing you in completely. There was no way you could escape him now.

“What is going on with you? Why are you being such a frigid bitch?” he seethes.

You can’t help but wince at the insult, shrinking under his increasingly angry gaze. People were beginning to stare, causing more nerves to twist in your gut. This was a much more interesting sight than anything the cafeteria had to offer. And while you hated the attention, you knew you had to do this.

Just like ripping off a bandaid.

“I want to break up.”

He clearly wasn’t expecting that, confusion quickly replacing the anger on his features. You let out the sigh you didn’t realize you were holding, relief filling your chest as you finally spoke the words aloud.

Scott runs a hand through his dark locks, pulling away from you ever so slightly.

“You want to break up?” his voice raises, “Why? Is this about that stupid fucking party?”

You knew it wouldn’t be that easy, he wouldn’t just agree and walk away. While you had tried to prepare yourself for what you wanted to say all night, your brain was struggling to string any words together.

You rub your temples, trying to prolong the inevitable but the male could only take your silence for so long.

“Well?!” he shouts.

You take a shaky breath as you square your shoulders, attempting to feign some kind of confidence. Dustin’s words from earlier echoing in your ears. He doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret. The sea of students had only begun to grow in the past few minutes but you don’t notice that Eddie was amongst them.

“I don’t love you, and quite frankly I don’t think I ever did.”

You could hear a pin drop.

“You're an arrogant, selfish prick. And honestly, I just can’t keep doing this anymore…” you pause, now meeting his stormy eyes.

“Especially when my heart belongs to someone else.”

If you thought Scott was angry before, you hadn’t seen anything yet.

His hand suddenly slams into the locker next to your head, causing you to shrink instantly. While he’s never been violent towards you before, you aren’t entirely surprised by it. It was just in his nature.

“So you cheated on me? Is that what you’re saying?”

Before you can get another word in, you hear the familiar clearing of a throat. And a ringed hand reaches out to harshly tug the male away from you.

“You just don’t learn do you, Scotty?”

Eddie is beyond fuming as he shoves Scott back into the lockers before the male can properly react. And while Scott wasn’t the smartest guy, he quickly seemed to put two and two together.

He looked between you and Eddie before he started laughing.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Munson? You’re fucking the freak?”

You instantly turn on defense mode, entirely fed up with his treatment of him. Before you can stop yourself, you copy Eddie’s actions and shove Scott back into the lockers. Surprise crosses both of the males' features at your actions, knowing you were never a violent or angry person.

But everyone has their limits and you’ve just hit yours.

“Yeah, and he fucks me so well too. Eddie here actually knows how to make a girl come— but I can’t say the same for you, McGuire.”

An astounding ‘oooh’ resonates through the crowd at your words.

Scott’s cheeks are flushed from a mixture of embarrassment and anger. No one has ever stood up to him like this before and he’s suddenly at a loss for words. Eddie is grinning like a mad man, clapping excitedly before he wraps his arms around your waist. You welcome his embrace, leaning back further against his chest.

Scott just stares at the two of you, gritting his teeth as you smile sweetly.

“Now, I think we’re done here. Let’s go, Eddie.”

The metalhead willingly lets you drag him away, only your destination wasn’t the cafeteria anymore.

You pull him into the nearest empty hallway, shoving him up against the wall and locking your lips together. Eddie eagerly accepts your advances, fingers lacing through the loop of your jeans to keep you pressed against him.

Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, making every touch of his skin feel like a live wire.

“Munson!”

You curse softly as you realize you’ve been caught, and quickly glance over your shoulder.

Mr. Mundy looks between the two of you with a deep sigh, “Now come on, you know the rules. Break it up or you’re both getting detention.”

You unwillingly pull yourself away from him and lean against the brick wall beside him. A glance out of the corner of your eye shows how the male is biting back a grin.

“Try not to infect your girlfriend with your delinquency, alright?” Mr. Mundy gives you both a disgruntled look before heading back into his classroom.

Once the door shuts behind him, Eddie lets out a soft chuckle and coaxes you back into his arms.

“Y’hear that? Girlfriend,” he teases, wiggling his brows but the title makes your stomach flutter nonetheless. “Didn’t even ask me out on a proper date though, sweetheart. I’m offended.”

He laughs as you playfully pinch his side, shaking your head fondly. You lean your forehead against his chest, letting yourself indulge in the scent of his cologne.

“Did you really mean what you said back there?” he says after a while.

The sudden change of tone has you lifting your head, gazing up at him curiously. Eddie pulls you in even closer, letting his hands rest on the curve of your waist.

“That your heart belongs to me?” he prods.

You look down at your feet shyly, not realizing that he had heard that part of the conversation. Eddie doesn’t let your gaze wander for long though, as he gently tips your head back up to meet his.

“Yes, I meant it,” your voice shakes, your nerves getting the best of you.

But the look that flits over his features has your heart skipping a beat and butterflies erupting in your belly.

“All mine?” he questions, nervously licking his lips as he awaits your answer.

“All yours, Eddie.”

Being Eddie Munson’s official girlfriend is more than anything you could’ve dreamt about.

While sneaking around with him was fun in the moment, the amount he wanted to show you off made your heart sing. You had never felt so wanted or taken care of in your entire life.

But it wasn’t always easy, as graduation continued to grow closer the two of you barely had any alone time together. Between Hellfire, band practice and constant cramming for finals— time was not on your side.

But busy schedules be damned, you both manage to carve out enough time for a date at Benny’s.

“The usual, kids?”

Benny calls from the kitchen with a grin as you both take a seat in your normal booth. The diner had quickly become your favorite place for date nights, in your opinion they had the best food in town. Despite Eddie’s futile attempts to take you to Enzo’s, you prefer the easy going atmosphere of the small diner much more.

“Nah, just two chocolate milkshakes and an order of fries. We only got a few minutes before this one abandons me for prom shit with Wheeler,” Eddie teases.

You can’t help but pout, nudging his foot under the table.

“Says the one who abandoned me for movie night with Henderson yesterday.”

What you aren’t aware of though is how Dustin was actually helping Eddie pick out a tux and tie for prom. Laughing hysterically as the older boy panicked over what color tie would match perfectly with your dress.

Benny watches you both playfully bicker back and forth, shaking his head fondly. He brings out your order a few minutes later and unable to contain your excitement any further, you grab a fry and dip it directly into your milkshake.

Eddie’s lips freeze around the straw, gazing at you in absolute bewilderment when he pretends to gag.

“Sweetheart, that’s disgusting.”

You roll your eyes at his theatrics, taking a bite out of the fry before dipping it back in.

“You really shouldn’t knock it till you try it, Ed,” you say in a sing-song tone as your boyfriend urgently pulls the basket of fries away from you.

“Yeah— no way. I’m not doing that, you’re pretty sick in the head, baby,” he muses between bites of a plain fry. “Shit… and people call me a freak?”

You stifle a giggle as you lean forward, stealing the half eaten fry from between his fingers. You dunk it back into your milkshake and pop it in your mouth with a soft but exaggerated moan.

Eddie shifts slightly in his seat, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. It was almost too easy to get him so worked up. You ignore the warning look he shoots your way as you reach for another fry.

“Come on, just try it.”

You scoop as much of the shake onto the fry as possible, holding it towards him. The male just shakes his head, leaning back against the cracked leather of the booth.

“You know, I don’t know if this is gonna work out between us, doll face,” he chuckles, watching as the chocolate cream begins to drip down your fingers.

His petulance continues but you’re still trying to goad him into taking a bite, dangling it in front of his scrunched nose, inching closer and closer. All in an effort to tempt him. You watch patiently, waiting for the perfect opportunity to slip it between his pouty lips.

“This level of blasphemy might be crossing a line, even for me—”

Before he can finish his thought, there’s lukewarm milkshake and salt smeared across his cheek and the corner of his mouth.

Eddie sits in shock for a moment before you burst into a fit of giggles at his expression.

“Oh, you are asking for it now, baby,” he taunts.

You are unprepared as he dips two of his fingers into his own glass, reaching forward to smear the sticky chocolate across your cheek. You gasp when the male leans forward, mischief sparkling in his eyes. His tongue darts out, causing a loud squeal to escape you as he licks the milkshake from your cheek.

“Eddie, that’s gross,” you whine as you reach out to steady the glass before he dumps milkshake everywhere.

“Hm, you didn’t seem to find it that gross when it was buried inside your—”

You toss a fry at him before he can finish that sentence, hitting him square in the forehead. He looks shocked, ringed fingers dramatically grasping at his chest when he slumps in his seat.

“You wound me, sweet thing.”

It’s then that you take the time to really look at him, and a surge of utter fondness fills your chest. While he goes on a dramatic rant about how french fries could be considered a deadly weapon, you’re only half listening.

Instead admiring the way his dimple indents his cheek when he grins sheepishly at you, and his hands flail about when he speaks. And it really hits you just how lucky you are to have him, that he was all yours.

So when you lean forward to capture his lips and ultimately silence him— he’s a little surprised. But he cups your face between his palms and kisses you back with just as much fervor.

“What was that for?” he asks a little breathlessly when you pull away, and you just smile.

“Just… cause I can.”

His eyes soften and he reaches out to thread your fingers together. Eddie knows the significance of what that means, so he can’t help but lean in to press your lips together again.

“Fuck yeah, you can.”

You really wonder if the universe was playing one big joke on you.

After your mini date at the diner a few days prior, you’d barely seen Eddie the rest of the week. The guys had a big gig at the Hideout the following evening and have been using any spare moment they had to practice. While you understood the reasoning for it, the other part of you was becoming increasingly frustrated.

Eddie could definitely tell something was up, but he didn’t exactly have the time to ask you in the five minute intervals you had together between classes.

So in an effort to make up for his absence, Eddie asked you to tag along to practice that night. But you might have had some ulterior motives for agreeing. Since it had been well over a week since you had any proper alone time together, you were past the point of needy.

Despite still seeing each other, the rushed kisses and subtle touches weren’t enough for either of you.

This was the longest either of you had gone without sex, so you can only imagine he was feeling the same way. But if his longing glances told you anything, it was that he needed you just as much— if not more. So that’s why you showed up to practice in your shortest skirt you owned.

What the metalhead doesn’t know is that you aren’t wearing any panties under said skirt.

However, he’s going to find out soon enough.

You’d given him a quick peck on the cheek when you got there, nothing too much though. You really did want his friends to like you, and they seemed to hate the constant displays of affection you both exhibited on the daily. So you kept it subtle, mostly for that reason.

But a small part of you did it just to rile him more.

In the short time you’d been officially dating, it became quite apparent how much Eddie craved your touch, whether it was sexual or not. He’d subtly tap his fingers on your knee during group hang outs, or press his lips to your temple when he walked you to class. You found it utterly endearing, but you also knew you could use it to your advantage.

So you could immediately tell from the slight pout that your boyfriend wanted more than just a peck on the cheek.

Hook, line and sinker.

As practice continued on, you found yourself sitting on an unused amp, with no other chairs in sight. The group wasn’t exactly used to visitors during practice, so you had to make due. You didn’t mind it though, as it put you in Eddie’s direct line of sight.

About half an hour in they decided to take a small break, the other three males were chatting excitedly about their upcoming dnd campaign. Eddie was more focused on tuning his guitar, but his eyes continued to wander back over to you.

This was the perfect opportunity to let him in on your little secret, while the other members were too preoccupied to be paying attention to you.

You sigh heavily and lean your arms back, uncrossing your legs and letting them fall open. Giving him the perfect view of what you were hiding… or rather not hiding, underneath your skirt.

His eyes flick up to your face before they begin to travel lower, and it takes him a full minute before he notices. But once that recognition flashes across his features, his mouth hangs open in shock.

A playful smirk plays on your lips and you quickly cross your legs again, acting as though nothing had happened. Eddie’s jaw is clenched when he returns to tuning his guitar, feigning as though it had no effect on him. But you could tell from the growing bulge in his jeans, that it definitely did.

He was grateful he had the ability to hide his boner for the rest of practice, not wanting to explain himself to his bandmates. But you knew by his stiff posture, you were so in for it when this was over.

The thought had you squirming with excitement, and you tried your best not to make a mess all over your makeshift seat. Now that would be something you could never live down.

Thankfully Eddie decided to end practice earlier than normal, claiming they could all use a break after their busy week.

But only the two of you knew the real reason.

Eddie all but drags you out to his van once his gear is packed up, gently shoving you against the back door. He opens the other side to put his guitar back into the vehicle, and quickly slams it shut. You bite back a grin when he cages you in against the cool metal.

His jaw is still tense, eyes darkening when his hand begins to caress your bare thigh.

“That was quite the peep show, sweetness.”

You try to keep your breathing even, but his roaming hands are making that very difficult.

“I don’t know what you mean, baby,” you feign innocence, knowing it’ll only rile him up more.

While he loves when you’re his good girl, he also loves any excuse to treat you like his little slut. The brunette chuckles humorously, grabbing your chin in his free hand to keep your eyes aligned with his.

“Come on now, don’t play dumb with me,” he tuts.

You just continue to gaze up at him all doe-eyed, hands resting on his chest. You don’t answer him, which only makes him more frustrated than he was to begin with.

“I see how it’s gonna be... You wanna be a brat? I’ll treat you like one,” he hisses. “Now, get in the van.”

He pulls away, and you feel a sudden chill from the loss of his body heat. When you don’t move an inch his brow raises, cocking his head at you.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart.”

As much as you would love to continue to push his buttons, you know you’re in enough trouble as it is. So you squeak out a quiet ‘yes, sir’ and round the side of the van to hop in the passenger seat.

Eddie is silent for most of the ride, but the tension in the air is palpable. While he says nothing, the glances he keeps tossing your way have you squirming in your seat. In an effort to stop your distracting movements he reaches a hand out, ringed fingers digging into the meat of your thigh.

And in your desperate state you can’t resist pushing him just a little more. So you rest your smaller hand atop his and guide his fingers in between your legs. Eddie suddenly slams on the brakes and your body flies forward when he pulls off on the side of the road.

He puts the van in park before turning to face you.

“In the back, on your knees. Now.”

You grin excitedly at his demanding tone, already anticipating what was to come. So you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and scurry into the back of the van without another word. Eddie takes his sweet ole time before joining you, as part of your punishment. He knew your patience would only last so long.

He flicks through his cassette tapes and fiddles with the radio volume… anything to keep you waiting.

So when he does finally join you in the back, you’re practically trembling with need. His hands cradle the back of your neck, titling it to bare your throat to him. He presses harsh kisses along your skin, nipping every so often. You can’t help but whimper from the contact, your hands reaching out to grip the fabric of his shirt.

But he stops you, immediately pushing your hands aside.

“Only good girls get to touch me,” he grunts.

Your eyes widen when he pulls the skull bandana out of his back pocket, maneuvering himself around you. He pulls your hands behind your back and binds them together with the soft fabric. Once he was happy with the secureness of the knot, he’s back in front of you.

This was something new.

His fingers gently grip your chin, but he forces you to meet his gaze.

“What’s your color, baby?”

As your sexual relationship began to delve deeper, the more safe words and communication became his highest priority.

“Green… neon fucking green,” you hum.

The smirk quickly returns to his features, and his lips go back to sucking on your neck.

“Watch that pretty mouth of yours, doll or I’ll put it to use.”

You can feel the wetness starting to drip down your thighs, having absolutely no barrier due to your lack of undergarments. His hands have found their way to your breasts, kneading them in his large palms before he continues lower. Once he reaches the apex of your thighs he nearly growls, feeling your arousal coating your supple skin.

“Fuck— I need you, Eds.” you whine, already forgetting what he had just told you only moments prior.

Eddie promptly removes his hands from you, the sound of his belt clinking open has you shivering in anticipation.

“You really want to test my patience tonight, don’t you?”

You now realize your mistake.

But you can’t find it in yourself to regret it when he finally releases his cock from the confines of his jeans. You glance up at him expectantly, licking your lips at the sight of his pre-cum coating the tip. His fingers guide your mouth open and can feel your body practically buzzing with excitement.

“Since you can’t seem to listen, I’m going to use your mouth however I want. If it’s too much I need you to snap your fingers twice. Okay?”

You give him verbal confirmation and snap twice to demonstrate that you are still able to do so even with your hands bound. Satisfied with your response he grins and opens your mouth wider.

“Lemme see that tongue, baby,” he instructs.

You obey immediately and he rewards you by slapping the head of his cock against it. Once… twice… a third time… before he slips it past your lips with a groan.

Eddie’s hand fists your hair, pulling your mouth even further onto his cock. You take every inch willingly, eagerly swirling your tongue around the base of his shaft. His eyes squeeze shut, mouth slightly agape as you take him even deeper.

But you already miss his piercing gaze, now desperate for him to look at you. So you pull back until his cock slips past your lips.

His eyes shoot open and he raises a brow at you, “Did I say you could stop?”

The utter dominance in his tone and stature makes you even wetter, your thighs pressing together as he continues to stare you down with those dark eyes.

“Want you to look at me,” you plead, batting your lashes at him.

He just chuckles, keeping his gaze locked on yours when you eagerly take him back into your mouth. His fist tightens in your hair, another groan escapes him when he hits the back of your throat. A wicked grin tugs at his lips when he feels you gag around him.

“That’s right, gag on it,” he coos.

Your eyes remain locked with his as he continues to use your throat, mascara tears running freely down your cheeks with each thrust. His groans fill your ears, each one sending heat straight to your core. His lips pull up into that signature smirk as he admires the absolute mess he’s made of you.

But before he reaches that peak, he slips himself out of your mouth. It’s too soon for your liking, despite the throbbing ache between your legs. He notices the pout on your lips, now eyeing the string of saliva that keeps you connected.

“As much as I’d love to come in that bratty mouth of yours…” he pauses, wiping up some of the drool from your lips with his thumb. “I’d much rather see it dripping out of that pretty pussy instead.”

You can’t help but whimper in response, letting Eddie bend you over the center console of the vehicle. He flips your skirt up, landing a harsh smack to your ass as he nudges your legs apart with his own. You’re suddenly grateful for the console beneath you, knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to hold yourself up with your hands still bound.

Eddie grabs your bound wrists with one hand, the other slipping between your thighs.His calloused fingers run through your slick folds, and he moans at the wetness he finds there.

“God… always so wet. You’re such a little slut for me, huh? You like when I use you like this, baby?”

You merely nod, your thoughts far too jumbled from his touch that words are escaping you. But Eddie isn’t having any of it, and really you should know better.

Another harsh slap lands on your pussy this time, a shaky gasp leaving your lips.

“Come on sweetheart, tell me…”

Eddie slips two fingers into your entrance with no resistance, curling them up to hit that sweet spot inside of you. But his actions stop just as quickly as they start due to your continued silence. And when he begins to slip his fingers out, your walls contract around them in an effort to keep them nestled inside you.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?” he taunts.

You want to cry from frustration when he fully removes the digits, guiding your hips back towards him. Eddie just chuckles, before you hear him noisily suck your arousal from his fingers.

“Y-Yes, Eddie. Just please, fuck me,” you cry.

While you can’t see him, you know he’s grinning like a madman. Any further plans of begging disappear when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing through your folds. As much as he’d love to continue teasing you, his own impatience takes over and he slides into you with one hard thrust.

It doesn’t matter how many times he’s fucked you, you still feel so full. Stretched out beyond belief— it nearly takes your breath away.

Eddie doesn’t give you much warning before he’s snapping his hips back into yours. The sudden motion causes your head to lull forward and rest against the console. Your walls practically suck him in deeper, and he enjoys the pathetic little noises that leave you as he continues to slam into you.

“Fuck— you feel so good, sweetheart.”

Eddie uses your bound wrists to pound into you harder, hitting that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can already feel your orgasm bubbling up inside you, that band getting tighter as he continues his ruthless pace.

“You gonna cum already? Such a little slut…” he nearly growls, “Go on, do it. Let’s see how many times you can make a mess on my cock.”

Between his words and the constant pounding into your g-spot is what tips you over the edge, feeling your knees wobble from the force of your orgasm. Eddie begins to slow his pace, letting you ride the waves a little before he slips one of his hands between you to gently rub at your clit.

Your soft whimpers only seem to spur him on further, keeping a steady pace. But he rams into you so deeply, you swear you can feel him in your throat. Despite how slightly overstimulating the feeling is… it’s too good to stop. And you’d do anything to show Eddie how good you can actually be.

“That’s it… feels good, baby?”

You let out a small but breathy ‘uh huh’, that being the only response you can muster at this point. One orgasm has turned your brain to mush, and all you can think or feel is Eddie Eddie Eddie.

Your response has him chuckling, as the male continues to rock his hips into yours. He loves getting you to this point, so drunk on his cock that you can’t form a coherent sentence. His fingers start to pick up their pace against your bundle of nerves, feeling how your walls clench even tighter around him.

While he wants to fill you up so badly, he also wants to see how far he could push you. It was only fair.

“Wanna show me you can listen, sweetheart? Give me another one. You can do it.”

You nearly sob as your second orgasm suddenly crashes over you. While not as forceful as the first, it’s powerful enough to make your legs give out beneath you. Letting all your weight rest against the center console. Eddie is quick to help guide your hips back up, and stops the movement of his own.

You can feel the tears slipping down your cheeks when he frees your wrists, finally slipping out of you. You whimper at the loss of contact, but it’s not gone for long. As Eddie helps guide you into a sitting position, before carefully laying you back onto a pile of blankets.

He brushes the tears away from your cheeks, and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Can you give me one more? Doin’ so good for me, sweet thing.”

You practically preen at his praise, eagerly nodding when he situates himself between your legs again. He carefully lifts your trembling thighs, his touch much more gentle now. He caresses your supple skin before he slips back inside you with a deep seated groan.

You can feel how your hands begin to twitch at your sides, desperate to reach up and tangle your fingers in his curls. But his previous warning rings in your ears, only good girls can touch me. Eddie catches the subtle movement and reaches down to guide your hands up towards his head. And a loud grunt leaves him when he reaches your deepest point.

“You can touch me baby, you’ve earned it.”

He barely finishes his sentence before you’re threading your fingers through his wild curls and tugging him closer. Until your clothed chests are pressed together and you can feel the weight of his ribs against yours. Your mouths meet with a soft urgency and his tongue glides over your lower lip before slipping past them.

His pace has slowed tremendously, all in an effort to cherish the feeling of being inside you. Despite how rough can be at times, this was his favorite way to be with you. With your bodies entangled in every possible way.

While Eddie may put on a tough exterior, he’s a big softie underneath it all. And you’ve come to adore both sides of him.

He pulls away from your lips with a small gasp, greedily inhaling your mingling breath as his chestnut hues meet yours. Eddie looks beautiful like this, hovering above you all sweaty and flushed. It's truly a sight you wouldn’t grow tired of seeing. He doesn’t let lips stray too far though, leaning down to press hot kisses along your jaw towards your neck.

The brunette eagerly sucks onto the skin of your throat, tongue darting out to soothe the ache he leaves behind. One of your hands untangles itself from his tousled curls, slipping between your bodies to rub at your overly sensitive clit. Judging by how sloppy his thrusts were becoming, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

Eddie buries his face into the crook of your neck, whining when you clench harder around him. The feeling of his cock twitching inside you has your head reeling, already so close to finishing for a third time that night.

“Fuck— I love you,” he pants, each slam of his hips becomes more frantic with his admission. “I love you, sweetheart.”

His confession is all it takes to push you both over the edge. Eddie’s hips stutter as he fills you, and your body arches further into his embrace with a cry of his name. It’s so intense that you can feel how his body trembles above you, and the stars begin to dance behind your lids. The weight of his words finally starts to sink in when he collapses on top of you, blinking away the tears that fill your lash line.

The mixture of your heavy breathing fills the silence and you gently stroke his curls while you both come down from your highs. Eddie must have felt your tears dripping down onto his cheek and his head lifts to regard you with concern.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” he asks.

You just shake your head, pressing another kiss to his awaiting mouth. But when you pull away a little too soon for his liking, he practically pouts. You just smile fondly, nervous fluttering in your belly at what you were about to confess. Despite hearing him utter those same three words only moments prior.

“I just… I really love you too, Eddie.”

The grin that stretches across his face has your heart thumping faster, your giggles soon fill the silence in the van as he presses tender kisses everywhere he can reach.

“Love you so much, sweetheart.”

The Hideout was packed, which seemed to be an unusual occurrence for a Saturday night in small town Hawkins. But the promise of multiple live bands quickly filled the seats that usually remained empty during the week.

Ever since you became official, you easily fit in amongst his large group of friends. Even Dustin, who was weary of you in the beginning, had quickly begun to warm up to you. But you had clicked with Robin the fastest and the two of you became very close in such a short amount of time.

Most of them had come out to support the band, besides the group of freshmen. As Eddie all but forbade from stepping foot in this establishment. His overprotective nature towards them was something you found to be incredibly endearing.

You were standing at the front of the crowd, snugly in between Robin and Steve. Mostly due to Eddie’s strict instructions to keep an eye on you. He could already anticipate just how rowdy this crowd might be from the moment you entered the dingy bar.

You anxiously shift in place, taking another swig from the flask that Robin had snuck in. You hadn’t seen Eddie for more than a few minutes since he dropped you off at home earlier that morning. And you were beyond impatient for the show to get started.

It was a little annoying how much you missed him when he wasn’t around, how uneasy it made you.

But the vodka was definitely starting to help soothe your nerves.

You continued to shift from foot to foot, partially from your growing impatience and partly due to the soreness between your thighs. The round in the van had only continued once you got back to Eddie’s trailer. He buried his tongue inside you while he showed you how much he loved you from between your thighs.

It’s as though the universe could tell you were getting antsy, as the lights on the small stage finally dim. You cheer loudly and the rest of your friends join in when the four males walk out onto the stage. They all take their respective positions, and Eddie slings his guitar strap over his shoulder and adjusts the mic stand.

“Good evening Hawkins, we’re Corroded Coffin. Thanks for coming out!”

A round of boos suddenly erupt from amongst the cheers, and your head instantly whips around to find the source. You see Jason and Scott’s whole crew leaning up against the back wall of the bar, a prominent smirk on your ex’s face. Your hands balled into fists and you quickly flip them all the bird before turning your focus back towards the stage.

Scott’s incessant torment had cooled off for a bit, but that entire week it was seeming to ramp right back up. While you knew your boyfriend could take care of himself, it still didn’t stop the fury from bubbling up inside you over it. Especially knowing it had only gotten worse because of you.

You find Eddie’s gaze again and he shoots a wink your way, not even fazed by their presence. They started off their set with a cover of Bang Your Head by Quiet Riot, already getting the crowd ramped up. Eddie was totally in his element, carefree as his fingers danced along the neck of his guitar. While they played mostly covers, they were able to sneak in a few original songs.

The crowd was overly enthusiastic, which was a nice change of pace from the five sullen drunks they usually had in attendance at their normal Tuesday time slot. While Eddie was riding that high, his eyes always seemed to find their way back to you.

“Thank you guys for being such an awesome crowd, this is our last song.”

In the time that you’ve been together, you’ve come to recognize almost all of their songs. Eddie was always bouncing lyric ideas off of you, or playing them for you any chance that he could. But hearing the first few chords ring out into the bar, you knew this one was clearly new.

And if shit eating grin he was sporting was any indication, he’d been preparing for this moment. Eddie’s eyes drift from yours to the back of the dimly lit bar as he begins singing. The opening lyrics make your eyes widen in shock.

“Scotty doesn’t know that Fiona and me do it in my van every Sunday. She tells him she’s in church, but she doesn’t go. Still she’s on her knees and Scotty doesn’t know.”

Your heart begins to race and that cocky grin never leaves his face. Your eyes follow his line of sight and you turn around, watching in amusement when you notice how Scott’s fists are clenched at his sides. This is by far the angriest you’ve ever seen him, and you can almost see the metaphorical steam coming out of his ears.

“Fiona says she’s out shopping, but she’s under me and I’m not stopping…”

A smug look graces your features when Scott meets your gaze, giving him a little wave before turning back to focus on your boyfriend. Eddie’s husky voice is full of confidence as he continues onto the next verse. That sound alone could bring you to your knees.

“I can't believe he's so trusting, while I'm right behind you thrusting. Fiona's got him on the phone, and she's trying not to moan. It's a three-way call and he knows nothing, nothing…”

Your mind instantly drifts back to that fateful phone call, that night being a major turning point in your feelings towards the metalhead. Your whole body flushes at the vulgarity of the lyrics, but in an odd way you find it kind of sweet.

Once he has your attention again, Eddie blows you a subtle kiss.

“The parkin' lot, why not? It's so cool when you're on top. His front lawn in the snow, life is so hard 'cause Scotty doesn't know! Scotty doesn't know!”

You watch in fascination as his fingers work diligently over the guitar strings, banging his head along with Jeff. The song aside, you really were enjoying yourself. Eddie lets his guitar fall to his hip, gripping the mic with both hands.

“I did her on his birthday…”

Your curiosity has gotten the better of you again, and you glance back to where Scott had previously been standing. The spot was now empty, much to your surprise. Scott was never one to back down without getting the last word. So you let your eyes wander around the bar, but Scott and his posse were nowhere in sight.

When the song starts to come to a close, Eddie and the rest of the guys have gathered at the front of the stage. Huddled together as they chanted a chorus of, ‘Scotty doesn’t know’, the crowd joining in unison. When you glance over at Robin, her grin practically matches that of your boyfriend’s.

While you had never explicitly told anyone (besides Robin) the details of how everything played out between you two, your ex definitely had his suspicions.

But now, one thing was for sure…

Scotty definitely knew.

sdk taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @transparentenemypenguin @calumfmu @vamp-bunny @eddiesxangel @nailbatanddungeon @deathst9r @comeonatmebruh @mrsjellymunson @eddiesghxst @eddiesguitarskills @callsignraver @eldermayfield @potatobeans99 @loserboysandlithium @em0220

[directdogman]

random DSaF thing I'm not sure if people picked up on.

Something significant about the DSaF 3 phones that popped into my head while I was writing the last post comparing Peter's DSaF 2 and DT incarnations that I didn't bother mentioning bc it was long enough

Harry and Jake are actually parallels to Steven + Peter respectively with a few major differences applied. (warning a LOT of text:)

Both Harry + Steven are generation 1 phones. They're both shown to be fairly by the book and are able to completely turn off their empathy when situations call for it. Both are completely disconnected from their former identities in a way that the other phones aren't. To further cement this connection, Harry is even shown to be the one that sent Steven to the factory. If an employee dies in your restaurant, Harry's response to it is pretty much what Steven's would've been.

Ultimately, he is a company man, like Steven. Just like Steven trying to save himself by any means necessary in DSaF 1, his confrontation in DSaF 3's evil route specifically talks about how much you've cost him and while he clearly feels disgust with you, he more so drills the futility and sheer callousness of what you're doing in rather than really tries to make you feel bad for the bad things you do. He speaks to you like you're more of a failure than anything else. You're not HIS employee, but as the former head of the franchise, speaking to the person who just killed it for the final time. He focuses on what you specifically took away from him, turning the conversation back to himself. His final words are a cold goodbye. His response to your actions is close to what Steven's could've been in this situation.

Ultimately, he's even more of an insider than Steven and someone with more of a direct connection to the cycle of misery that occurred at Freddy's. Basically, several of Steven's defining qualities are amped up in different ways.

Peter on the other hand, is not a company man. He's a gen 2 phoney, more in touch with his personal identity and in the good ending of 2, even escapes in order to reunite with his old lost family. He's generally a chiller boss than Steven, clearly caring more about the well-being of staff/customers than making the company happy.

Jake, similarly, also is in touch with his personal identity. Like Peter, he escaped in order to find his family, but as his backstory scene in 3 points out, this didn't go to plan. Jake, on the surface, seems like a polar opposite to Peter in how overtly cynical he is, a word he deliberately uses to describe himself in his DSaF 3 callout. However, this actually masks something that's more evident if you listen to him in certain key scenes.

Jake cares about others. A LOT. I based his characterization on a George Carlin quote: 'Scratch [the surface of] a cynic and you'll find a disappointed idealist'. It shows what Peter could've been if he'd never reconnected with his family or been able to correct any of the ills he came across. Someone who was worn down by life and put up walls as a result. But, the underlying care is still there and affects his decisions/words at key moments.

If you read his equivalent callout in 3 very carefully, there's some pretty strong parallels to Peter's callout in 2. He notably drills home the fact that you abused the trust of customers so you could feed like a monster. He mentions having higher hopes for you, hoping you were going to be someone better. Even after all Jack's done, he still expresses shock that he feels no remorse at all. His scene ends with a much harsher line, commanding Jack to never contact him again, akin to Peter's closing line in the equivalent 2 scene.

Also, notably, he breaks the no cursing Phone Guy rule in the scene. His reaction if an employee gets springlocked at your location is also noticeably more Peter-esque, remembering what he went through and not wanting another person to turn out the same, in contrast to Harry deciding to just go by the book, a decision that directly led to the creation of Steven pre-DSaF 1.

Okay, that's about it. I bet there's people out there who caught this (knowing me, I've said all of this before and forgot about it) but I figured a few people might find it interesting regardless. thanks, everyone!

[rookiesbookies]

Pregnant brat reader here with a sfw req this time with the same cod men from before bc that was scrumptious

The men are in the nursery, cradling their newborn to soothe them. Reader walks behind them, kissing their cheek (or wherever she can reach) and she whispers “I just fell in love with you all over again.”

Can you tell I have severe baby fever atm

Oh its ok I get baby fever too. If I wasn’t still too young and trying to get a degree first, oh boy. I also get it every time I look at Neil Ellice’s face (Soap’s va/reference).

Lowkey you’re making me fall more in love with these boys, hope this is all you hoped for my loving anon.

To all my readers and anons- Keep requesting this account is my hobby LMAO

Price

Price is already softly crying but now you’ve made this man want to sob. He puts the baby down since it’s late, poor thing basically just got cleared to go home.

He kneels by the crib, finger still in the baby’s grasp as it sleeps and Price is just done for. He’s doing everything possible not to wake this baby. He’s so grateful he got this chance, and he’s not going to waste it.

Now Price is going to need soothing because his heart can’t take this moment. His hand is over his mouth to help him choke down sobs. Just you and him and now the kid he always dreamed of? He’s going to be the best dad and there’s nothing that can stop him.

Soap

It’s crazy how forgetting to put on a condom once can change your whole life.

He immediately plants a kiss back on your head, telling you to go get rest. He’s going to spend the first months of this baby’s life sleeping in the room with it. The faintest cry or struggle has him up. He’s already got it all planned.

Never going to make this life feel like an accident, no this child is an accomplishment of good sex and a wonderful choice to keep it. Maybe it wasn’t an accident after all, maybe it was meant to be.

He mumbles all kinds of thanks to the universe. He’s already named Simon and the rest of the 141 the godfathers, he couldn’t stop making mafia jokes. But now he has no jokes or witty comments, just love for his wife and his baby.

Ghost

Simon is scared shitless.

He lost his last family, he can’t lose this one too. He’s already updated the house’s security. But maybe he should upgrade it more. There’s so much more he can do, he can feel his heart rate rising.

He mumbled endless promises of safety. You have to remind him the live in the moment, that those are all things that he can do tomorrow.

Thats when he starts to get emotional. You can see it in how he squints before he pulled off his baklava.

This is one of two days that’s proven Simon Riley still exists somewhere in Ghost. This proves that Simon Riley didn’t die. This proves what Price told you when you married him, that Ghost was a fortress built to protect Simon.

Gaz

He’s been crying since the baby was born. It’s not sobs but to him this child is the ultimate testimony of your love. Of your marriage even. He still doesn’t believe it. His world now revolves around this baby.

He still doesn’t believe its his child. Sure it looks like him but would an angel like you truly grace him with this? After all the terrible things he’s done and seen in the midst of battle?

He plants a kiss right back, running his thumb over the cheek of the baby. He knows he has to put it to bed but can't he hold his kid a little longer?

He may just stay here, just for one night. Just with his kid. He has so many stories to tell. He has to introduce the baby to his team and his family.

He knows he has to wait, but he cant help it.

Konig

He still doesn’t believe it. His anxiety tells him it’s a trap set by the enemy, that he couldn’t be loved, that a woman wouldn’t want to have his offspring.

But that all melts away when he turns to see you. He’s holding a baby he was surprised your body could push out, he knows this child is his without a doubt because of its sheer size and weight.

He places fluttering kisses all over your face.

He mentions keeping the baby in your shared room, just so he can keep an eye on it he swears. Oh he promises it won’t disturb you he swears.

It wasn’t even an option to tell him no, he was already carrying the baby in on arm with a secure hold and the crib in another. He hasn’t taken his eyes off your baby for even a second and getting him to sleep will be another struggle.

Krueger

Sebastian isn’t crying, you’re crying. What do you mean there’s tears coming down his face? No, that's sweat, it’s really warm.

He never needed you to tell him you loved him at the start, but when you started to he realized his heart wasn’t made of stone after all.

Now he’s holding this little creature thats half you and half him and he’s just breaking down.

This is a second chance at life for him and he swears he’s going to do better than he started off with.

In your eyes, this murderer looks like an angel with the light seeping softly through the windows against him as he holds your sweet baby.

For the first time in a long time, he prays. He prays to not mess up and for protection for his family. Its soft, under his breath and you would barely hear it, but he prays.

Keegan

When the baby was born the whole team of ghosts showed up. It was a moment of pride.

He turns to kiss your lips right back as he walks over to the rocking chair. Oh he could get the baby a little mask and armor. Could be a mini ghost.

The team fell straight in love but none could love this baby more than Keegan.

And how he looks at you? Its like you hung the stars… which you did help him do, there’s lots of stars hanging from the nursery ceiling, but you gave him a baby. He would trade the sun for his little family, unafraid of turning nocturnal if it meant keeping this moment.

He mumbled about this meaning worth all the fighting. Promises to always come home falling from his mouth so easily.

Edit: im dropping this incase you havent seen it tol

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

[evilminji]

Can You "Accidental Baby Acquisition" Yourself?

Like? Say you have a You... who is NOT You, obviously, but A You in the Multiversal sense... and their childhood suuuuuucked. Just? Truely awful for reasons beyond their control.

Such as the veil NOT being so easily peirced in their reality and humanity a bit more... Reactive(tm) to ectoplasm, due to the lower concentration of it in the Everything of their Universe. Which makes their parents research? Unattainable. Dangerous.

Ultimately fatal to their elder sister.

And then later, them.

Not that they were even the loving if wildly eccentric parents most of the other You's KNOW and have. Due to that very say research and their long-term exposure to their own samples. The Reactivity.

"Pit Rage" as some circles call it.

They weren't themselves. Stopped BEING themselves long before their children ever came into the picture. If they could think clearly, they would BEG for someone to save their children. From them. From their house of horrors. From what they've become.

And well? You exsist outside of Time. In the Zone. Maybe you have a wide and crazy adventure with this grizzled, worn, badass of a You. Figure he's pretty cool. Ask if he needs anything. And he laughs this broken glass in your chest sort of sound and says:

"Not unless you could give me a real childhood."

Like? Dude. Buddy. My buddy dude. Gonna have to explain that one. You can't just drop that and walk away. We Crazy Action Bros Adventure(tm) bonded. You can tell me. And reluctantly... he kinda does.

And... Look. You exsist outside of TIME. Your mentor IS Time. You can TOTALLY do that.

This.

But like? You realize... there wouldn't be TWO of you... right? If you take mini-Bamf out of the timestream at point A... you, big guy, stop existing at every instance of point B and onwards.

Yeah. Yeah, he gets that. Fully consents. His life was full of bad decisions and dramatic bullshit. He wants a real childhood. His sister back. Wants them BOTH out of that house and somewhere safe. If he could do it himself, he would. Call it his fucked up way of healing. Finally facing his trauma. It's haunted him long enough.

.....well then. Now You've got a baby and a fussy toddler. They have superpowers because of course they do. That house was OSHAs waking nightmares and deepest fever dreams. Jazzypants is hungy. And baby You did a stinky.

This is Fine(tm).

You're a King! You can TOTALLY handle this! Teeeeeemporarily. Since it's not like they can stay HERE. The Zone is literally uninhabitable long term for the living. So time to fire up the ol Brain Meats. Gremlin Ideas formulating. Loading... Loading... Loooooooading. Got it!

You kidnapped them.

Brilliant! FRIGHTY! Where's the Trenchcoat Booze Slu-...SLUHeuth. Sleuth! Totally what I was planning to say, Starshines! Don't curse. Cursing Bad~☆

The Detective Of Loose Morales in The Trenchcoat, who's Soul I Own, Frighty! Where's he at?? *Distant muffled answer* Close enough! Time to give him a heart attack! And throw a fight! Can you toss me a nightmare medallion? I need to instill mortal terror! Thaaaanks, Frighty! Also can you change diapers? *affirmative noises* Ancients, you're the best.

Smash cut to John Constantine. Busting up some cult, as you do. When? Oh fuck. The leaders heading for the store room! Not today, fucker! They fight. They struggle. It's Manly and Gritty and dramatic! When?

A terrible CRASH. Some artifact must have activated. What... have you DONE? *dramatic musical sting* swirling green and DEATH radiates out from a pin prick of nothing. A black hole in reverse. The cold oblivion of space, given bones to claw its way free. Eyes that sear in colors too technicolor and hypersaturated to be mortal. Green. Green! GREEN.

Ice and stars and death and a terrible, unspeakable Crown.

Two... two little sprogs. Tiny bits of nothing in a monsters hand. KIDS, wrapped up in something they never should of even had to nightmare about. John's eyes catch on red, red hair. A tiny little headband with butterflies on it. Pressed so close to dark locks, as she wraps herself around her little bits of a sibling.

The other ones dressed up in stars.

Someone SOLD their fuckin KIDS. Or this damned this STOLE them. It doesn't matter. Not now, not to John. Because this bastard isn't keeping them. He slides like breathing into the waves of luck and chance, odds and fate. Is on his feet and drawing attention. Whatever it takes, he's leaving here with those kids.

He laughs and it's not a kind one.

"Oi! A word if you will?"

@hypewinter @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @ailithnight

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

What’s the difference between Malleus and Idia? What Idia was about to do when he overbloted would have been just as bad as what Malleus is doing if not worse. (Releasing a bunch of OBs and reshaping the world would not be safe for everyone) is it just just because Idia has a more sympathetic back story? I understand that some people have their likes and dislikes, but I’m just curious. I love all my Twisted boys!

I’d say that the scale of Idia and Malleus’s machinations (and even both backstories involving the loss of a family) are similar. I don’t believe that Idia has the “more sympathetic” backstory; if anything, Malleus is also very relatable and sad because we can all relate to the fear of change + losing someone precious to us and/or wanting to stay in a happy "fantasy" world (ie TWST) forever. However, the methodology and the context surrounding their actions are not the same. That’s what makes Malleus’s actions so much more despicable to me. (Again, I want to stress that this is NOT an objective take; this is my own interpretation of the events, characters, and their motivations.)

Firstly, Malleus is exerting much more power over his victims and actively tries to maintain it. He has already robbed ~20,000 people (the population of Sage's Island) of their autonomy and essentially gaslit them into accepting it as their reality. Idia has employed no such physical control or emotional manipulation. All he has done is release Phantoms out of Tartarus to rampage around the world. Both he and Malleus are putting Twisted Wonderland in danger, yes--but Malleus is also committing the moral wrong of forcing his will upon others' bodies and minds. The only other OB to involve manipulation/mind control is Jamil, and even then that was on a much smaller scale by comparison. Whenever someone so much as challenges Malleus's word, he or his autonomous magic goes out of its way to trick them back into sleep or pulling them even deeper in--and this act is much more insidious than just ripping away their free will altogether (as Jamil had). Malleus is knowingly and willingly deceiving thousands and thousands of people; Idia's plan, meanwhile, never goes that far. It could be argued that his plan was to "play hero" to save people from Phantoms so that he could make friends this way (which is also deception), but let's remember that this was Ortho's suggestion, not Idia's. We have no clue if Idia himself would carry it out, nor it he would go to the same lengths of gaslighting that Malleus did. For all we know, he could have just drawn the line at letting the Phantoms run free and being "friends" with everyone.)

Even if we assume that Idia was fully intending to be just as deceitful, Idia and Malleus are very different people, so the context and motivations behind their OBs are very different as well. The loss that Idia experienced was that of a close family member, and he has been living with that grief for several years prior to his OB. His OB, then, is in an attempt to adapt to that lingering guilt and shame and to "fix" the past. When he loses to the other boys, he offers to "go" with Ortho to right his wrongs, but ultimately doesn't. He's willing to take all of the "burden" upon himself for what he has done in the aftermath. Malleus meanwhile lost his parents, who are figures he never became intimate with or really got to know because they vanished before he had hatched. What Malleus experiences before his OB is the fear and anxiety of losing his loved ones (Lilia, Yuu, etc.), something which has not happened yet. He is unable to accept these changes, so his OB is a desperate act to prevent those events from unfolding. Idia is fixated on correcting the past, and Malleus is fixated on stopping the future--he's determining everyone's future for them. Because of this, I perceive Idia as a person with hang-ups about previous life experiences that he's overcorrecting for while Malleus comes off like a three-year old throwing a tantrum and making it everyone else's problem too.

Another element to this is that whereas Idia has to take some level of accountability for his actions (even if it's just a scolding and banishment from his parents + feeling upset with himself), Malleus never does, even in scenarios where he clearly endangers the lives of his classmates. He can claim it's "by accident" or "just a misunderstanding" all he wants, but it won't erase the worry or the battles his classmates went through for the "surprise party" he wanted to have for them. He always walks away feeling as though he "did the right thing". So what happens when Malleus, AGAIN, endangers the lives of several people? Is his power and social status going to save his ass AGAIN? Is he going to be let off way easier than everyone else AGAIN? That's what's really frustrating to me. Malleus's refusal to accept change AND the consistent lack of accountability feels very... juvenile. In-character for Malleus, but still very juvenile. Of course, book 7 isn’t done yet so maybe Malleus will eventually see the error of his ways. Right now though? All of the other stories leading up to this point in time rarely show Malleus taking accountability for anything he does, so my expectations of him aren’t great to say the very least.

A common defense I hear for Malleus is that "he's still considered a baby by dragon fae standards". Yes, I know this. However, that doesn't give Malleus a pass for his behavior. This has always been my stance on this matter. To me, he is still at least old enough to know what is an abuse of power or not--yet he acts so hypocritical, it's infuriating. For someone who is supposedly a good leader (according to his own dorm members) and cares so much about his relations to other countries (to the point where Malleus chides Sebek for being rude to other royals), I sure do see a lot of inappropriate emotional reactions and acts of abusing his power/social status (both of which can seriously harm his public image and sully his political reputation) 💀

But again, that’s just my interpretation and opinion on the matter; if you think differently then that’s valid as well!

[charlottes-diary-entries]

HELLLOOO :) could I request a wolfstar x reader where there’s an upcoming exam that r is super stressed about and how the boys would help or comfort them? (This is indeed self indulgent bcuz I’m stressin for finals 😭)

oh my god darling, i'm aware this is two MILLION years late, but i fear i was ALSO stressin for finals :( i hope all of your exams went completely swimmingly and if they didn't then here is a little comfort for the start of your summer <3

"academic avalanche" poly!wolfstar x reader, very fluffy, mostly comfort

This was it. You'd considered it might come to this, but today seemed to make it official. You were now living, to eventually die, and then rot forever, beneath a wall of books in the library that completely obscured you from view. It was ridiculous. One gentle breeze and you'd be a victim of an academic avalanche.

As you once again desperately tried to cram information about the giant wars of the 19th century into your brain, tears began to slip down your cheeks. Hopelessly, you thumped your head against the horrid tome before you and let the tears fall. Hiccups and sobs also began to escape before you could stop them, and soon enough, you were trying as hard as you could to break down quietly as to not disturb the peace of the library.

They would write your name and death date on your gravestone, paired with the phrase, "Killed by History of Magic."

"Dovey?"

At the sound of a familiar, endlessly comforting voice, you wished you could pull yourself together and only fell apart more. A miserable moan left you from your place faceplanted in the evil textbook.

"Is that you tucked away there, darling?"

One of the shorter stacks was shoved aside before the voice cooed and you were suddenly shoved by an overly-aggressive hug. The voice chided your attacker with a quiet, "Sirius..." but was ultimately ignored as you were squeezed within an inch of your life.

"What have they done to you?" Sirius pulled you upright and gasped at the tears that still flowed down your face. "Scratch that, how did we let you hole up here like this?! Oh, dovey..."

You hiccupped through another sob as Sirius shushed you, pressing kiss after kiss all over your face in attempt to cheer you up.

"I think-" You began, "I think this exam is going to kill me. Actually kill me, I can't do this."

Remus perked up from where he had begun to deconstruct your cavern of books. "Alright dove, it's okay. Why don't we take a break, hm?"

This only served to upset you more as you moaned, flopping completely into Sirius's arms. Frustration only continued to bubble up and out of you as Sirius cradled you.

"I've got to pass this exam. I think I'm going to fail otherwise and I can't fail. I hate this stupid professor, I hate History of Magic, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!"

Sirius cooed and pressed a kiss to your temple, holding you tighter. "I think passionate declarations of hate are a pretty decent sign you're due for a break. Just a little one love, and then we'll help you study after, yeah?."

"I second this plan, besides," Remus said, now a little sheepish, "we've missed you dove."

"Missed them! Missed them, he says!" Sirius scoffed, "You've been holed up in here for nearly a week and your absence has actually taken a toll on our health! I swear, I've never felt so sick as when you're stuck studying!"

At this, you sniffed and smiled a little up at Sirius, who only grinned down at you, allowing himself to kiss your forehead.

"Starting to feel better now, though."

You giggled and Remus rolled his eyes fondly, having now successfully returned most of your books to their respective shelves. Sirius then easily pulled you up and you didn't have the energy to resist. Now with you on your feet, he began to speak before you were tugged away from him and into Remus's bone-crushing hug.

Whatever dramatic protest at you being stolen from him died on Sirius's lips as he watched you deflate even more in your boyfriend's arms. A few more tears rolled down your face as he joined the hug.

"C'mon dovey," Remus said as he eventually pulled away, leaving his hand tightly entwined with yours, "let's all go cuddle for a bit, yeah?"

You nodded and let him pull you along, Sirius attaching himself to your unoccupied arm. You continued to hang off them as they walked you back to their dorm feeling endlessly grateful for their ability to carry the weight of the conversation on their own.

There was something indescribable about the comfort that came from Remus holding you on his bed with Sirius on your other side telling you both about some muggle band he loved. You felt loved. Completely surrounded by love, actually.

And exam be damned, there was no where you'd rather be.

this isn't very long, but i hope you enjoyed love! <3

[cassiocantdrink]

so ah, mittens. at some point, i stumbled across a fantastic local project on instagram. a bunch of volunteers collect handmade knits and around new year's eve, distribute them among homeless people!

pros:

fidget stimming but you get a sock at the end. or something.

learn to knit mittens. or socks. those small things i have never attempted before

get rid of leftover yarn!

somebody gets warm knits!

no need to be fancy. any mitten is better than no mitten

no need to interact with anybody, neither the volunteers nor the homeless people (i honestly don't have the spoons for that rn)

the drop off point is not only a 20-min walk from where i live (which is already a miracle, given the size of the town), but a 20-min walk on the way to work!

cons: ????

so this is how it started (found a youtube video on magic loop). despite its slightly eldritch appearance, it was a Very Instructive Mitten! the magic loop itself, decreases, increases, the obvious need for the modified kitchener graft but the most important of all??

this lady straight up PICKS UP AND KNITS several stitches (she says 4, i say 5) from the body of the mitten so that there is absolutely NO HOLE between the thumb and the body! i hated that hole for my entire life. i never knew you could get rid of it that easily.

this is my cousin's hand, misha ended up pinching a pair. it was the day when i badly miscalculated the width and ended up with what looked to me like an effing oven mitt. see, size-wise, i'm a corgi at best who's under misapprehension that she's more of a german shepherd. so i knitted a mitten that was like, my size?? measured a postgrad's average man's hand, recalculated and.... and ended up with this. fortunately misha came for a short visit, he of Huge Hands and Feet (well he's like 6'1 so they're proportional, just, you know... big. the entire misha is big, especially when viewed from a 5'5 perspective). i approached him timidly, coz, would you do me a favor, try on a mitten?

misha went ecstatic. there's not much that can drive a seasoned hematologist to ecstasy but the mitten did the trick. IT FITS!!!! proclaimed misha, IT"S SOFT!!! IT"S BEAUTIFUL! holy shit. it's a basic mitten? it's orange? would you like me to knit you a pair of maybe grey? i also have dark brown? noooo, said misha, admiring his mittened hand, IT"S TERRACOTTA and i love the color!

i had to brake here, hard. a man who knows what terracotta color even is deserves a pair of terracotta mittens, no doubt. so later, i finished the other one and mailed it to him bc of course he was only here for a day. i whipped out my measuring tape again, and IT TURNED OUT that what i thought was my size, was actually that average mens' size i was after. the length was correct for my hand, yes, but the width, oh no. the width was exactly mens M. excellent. so now i had two variants, M and L/XL, and i went to work.

the loot: NO MORE orange terracotta yarn taking up half of my yarn bin! ran out of blue and grey as well, yippee! 11 pairs total but one went to misha and three i unraveled bc they were too thin and redid in double yarn, so seven. yep, dropped them off, went without a hitch. now, after this rather intensive warm-up, i feel like i can hatch more intricate plans, hehehe.

the ultimate goal: tashashu gordon's hypnosis mittens. not now, now i feel like another sweater or maybe two if i'm being bold. but someday, definitely. and before you think i'm delusional to go from my basic knits to this, i'll have you know that i've done her aurora borealis scarf, so i fell that i have all the knowledge i need. also, i had to re-calculate the entire scarf pattern for a different gauge, so yeah. i can do this.

overall: total success, would definitely do it again. mittens, socks and chest warmers, here i come!

[hellspawnmotel]

i LOVE ur analyses (ur noelle + ralsei ones completely changed the way i view those characters) and if u ever started a yt channel for video essays i would BE THERE. ur art has a comforting quality that can be twisted into something disturbing/raw that i rlly like and admire. i wanna know more of ur thoughts on chara. i think they killed themselves bc of their dread of humanity + they thought what they were feeling (anger/vengence) was inherent to being a human and not a monster. thoughts?

thank you, that's very kind of you!! I don't think what I have to say would be very well suited for video essays though haha, it's just my personal readings of the text and I really don't want people to look at it and assume that I'm completely right, or even that I think I'm completely right. there are tropes and themes that I get particularly caught up in and I have my very obvious biases, plus when it comes to deltarune the story isn't even done yet..... I would hate for somebody to get totally invested in my interpretation and then get mad or disappointed if something that happens further in negates it. (that and my video making/editing skills begin and end with cutting together amvs)

as for chara..... (warning this is about to get heavy, maybe don't read if you're dealing with suicidal thoughts of your own)

.....always a complex question, especially when it comes to their death. I never really want to say anything definitive about them, because well, we don't actually know, do we? but this in particular...... with suicidal thoughts and ideation, you're always looking for a way to justify it. I don't think there was one specific reason chara went down that path, because there never really is. it starts with one thought, and then all the reasons you could possibly come up with start to clump together and form an unbearable weight. I think it's significant that chara came up with "the plan" after (accidentally or not) poisoning asgore. maybe it started with the guilt of hurting somebody they loved, which grew into the guilt of 'I'm such a burden to these wonderful people, they would be better off without me' which grew into the guilt of being human at all. but they still wanted to be useful to their family, leave them with a gift.... if their death can both free monsterkind AND destroy humanity, then really it would be worse of them to NOT die. that idea would stick in their brain and become a comfort to them- it's okay, because before too long, everyone I love with be safe and happy and I'll be dead, and I won't have to feel so awful every day. this is the only way to make up for all the time they wasted on caring for me. but then, of course, everything goes so extremely wrong..... I can't imagine the anguish chara would've felt in death, for not only failing but dooming asriel alongside them. they weren't thinking about the pain it would inflict on their family even if the plan had worked, or ever stop to consider that one day they might be able to feel better, and now they'll never get a chance to see it.

I think that also nicely leads in the main routes in undertale's storyline. in one, chara is a passenger on frisk and the player's journey, and they watch frisk inconvenience everyone they meet over and over but ultimately make their lives better just by being a friend and believing in love, which mirrors chara's own life and what they failed to see in it. in the other, chara is guided into dealing with their pain in a different way, by destroying it. the world is cruel, and unfair, and it hurts the good people while the bad flourish- better to do away with it entirely. if there's no life, then there's no suffering. if chara is all that exists, they become the nexus of pain. if they have to become a demon anyway, they can learn to love it. it's all humans are good for anyway. maybe this is easier than trying to fight it ever was.

but like, it's not, obviously. being a good person is hard sometimes, and it's even harder to be good to yourself. in the end though, if you give into hate and destruction, you'll be left with nothing but emptiness. whether through harming others or harming yourself..... either way you've closed yourself off from the world and your ability to experience the beauty of life, in all its faults.

okay I think I should stop there before I get too preachy or existential LMAO I hope that answered your question though! talking about chara is a dang rabbit hole. like, you're a creepypasta-ass character from a video game, why you making me think this deep. maybe if you werent so tragic and interesting I'd get less distracted, jerk.

🌻

[imaginespazzi]

Here's To Eternity

Four times Paige brings up marriage and the one time Azzi finally says yes.

(In which an angst writer attempts to write fluff and it takes her far longer than it should have)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: mainly Fluff with a little bit of Angst

Words: 8K (I swear it was meant to be below 5K when I planned it)

TW: Implied sexual content, alcohol, swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3. Gonna do this at the beginning instead of the end today. This took years off my life and I still don't fully love it but I'm tired of thinking about it so hopefully y'all still like it. Really quickly, I've never been to Minnesota or the state fair so if you have, pretend you do not see the likely factual inaccuracies. Also feel free to let me know what you don't like because as I've said, I don't really write fluff well so by all means call me out. And finally, I edited this I swear but I'm sure there are still mistakes, so let me know about those too. Anyways, I hope this is a good pre-game read and let's get another W!

i don’t know what love is (i’d learn for you) 

The first time Paige says it, they’re at the Minnesota State Fair. It’s all the way back when they’re just two young girls learning each other, carefree and completely unaware that this will become a tradition. They’ve barely known each other but being with Azzi already feels easy, natural, like home. And she doesn’t really know how she knows it, it’s just a feeling really, but Paige is convinced that Azzi’s meant to be in her life forever. 

They’ve been at the fair almost all day, with members of both of their families joining them here and there. Paige and Azzi had been competing at various arcade games all day, keeping a tally of who won which arcade game. They’d even turned going on rides into a competition of “who could hold in their screams the longest”. Their bickering, while endearing, had earned them more than a few fond eye rolls as their families eventually got bored of being third wheels and went on to find something more engaging. 

They’d intentionally left the pop-a-shot, a basketball arcade game, til the very end, knowing it would be the ideal tie-breaker. And as the day comes to an end, they are in fact very much tied although Paige will tell you, that she didn’t actually scream on the Skyscraper; it had merely been a quiet whimper that Azzi was exaggerating the volume of. And Azzi will tell you that she deserved a re-do on the ring toss because it wasn’t her fault that the wind had decided to pick up on that very moment. Ultimately both of their arguments had fallen on deaf ears when they had appealed their cases to some very exasperated family members. 

“Get ready to lose to the better shooter,” Paige gloats, rubbing her hands together in preparation to shoot. She’d lost two rounds of rock paper scissors to Azzi’s one, meaning she’d missed the chance to go second like she would have preferred but that hadn’t done much to deter her confidence. 

“We’ll see,” Azzi scoffs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms as she stands back a little bit to give Paige the space she needs. 

Paige smirks at her friend as she shoots the ball, definitely showing off a little bit. The ball arcs in the air before swishing into the basket, all net and no rim. The blonde’s grin only widens as she repeats the motion, again and again and again. She gets eight of them in perfectly, the ninth hits the backboard but rolls in and then-

“You missed,” Azzi yells the minute the last ball is out of Paige’s hands and they both watch, one in excitement, the other in irritation, as the ball falls miserably far away from the net. 

“That’s not fair,” Paige turns around immediately, “you distracted me. That doesn’t even count.”

“Nuh uh, we didn’t set a no distracting rule and I only said something after you released it. I already knew you were gonna miss,” Azzi counters gleefully. 

“Bruh, how could you have possibly known that?”

“Because my basketball IQ is way beyond yours,” it’s Azzi’s turn to smirk as she bumps Paige in the hip, switching spots so she can take her turn. 

“You’re still gonna lose. I made nine, you’re barely gonna make,” Paige pretends to think, “hmm maybe seven”

Azzi doesn’t respond, choosing instead to reply by immediately making her first basket. Her arc is perfect as always, the same shot Paige had been awed by when they’d been at camp for USA basketball. She makes the next and the next and the one after that until she’s at her 10th shot, ready to go a perfect 10 for 10 and beat Paige. Maybe it’s the competitiveness or maybe Paige has lost her goddamn mind, but she barely registers the next words that come out of her mouth. 

“If you make the last shot, you have to marry me,” and it’s supposed to be a threat, a way to stop Azzi from making the last bucket and winning their silly little competition but it comes out giddy and breathless. 

“What?” Azzi asks, eyes wide as she turns around to face Paige and well, she’s said them now, Paige might as well own them. 

“You heard me,” Paige says, cocking her head, the arrogance in her voice a complete contrast to the rapid beating of her heart, “you make that shot, and we’re engaged. Or you don’t make it and you lose.”

Azzi’s eyes narrow, confusion melting away to a familiar fierceness.  The thing is, she knows she could miss it if she wanted to but the thought of losing is somehow worse than being engaged at fourteen. She tries not to dwell on why that idea doesn’t seriously frighten her, telling herself it’s because there’s no way Paige will ever hold her to that. Taking a deep breath, Azzi lifts up her hands and shoots the ball. 

Here’s the thing, Paige likes winning. She enjoys the effort that goes into getting a win and the satisfaction that follows after. But as the ball leaves Azzi’s hand, that same perfect arc, she thinks, maybe it would be okay if Azzi made this basket today. She thinks maybe it would be okay if she lost. Both girls wait with bated breath, as the ball hits the backboard and circles the rim. For a brief second, it seems like it might slide off the edge but it doesn’t. It falls into the net with a swish and Azzi wins. 

The brunette lets out a squeal of happiness as the arcade game lights up with “WINNER”, doing a happy dance and flipping her hair. And Paige is so mesmerized by Azzi’s infectious happiness, the fact that she’s just lost ceases to mean anything. She doesn’t know what this feeling is, isn’t quite ready to understand it, but she knows it’s slowly creeping up her veins and consuming every part of her. 

“What prize would you like honey,” the middle-aged woman running the booth asks, pointing to the assortment of gifts sitting in a booth next to the game. Azzi pulls a still-stunned Paige with her to get a closer look at the prizes, eyes roaming over all the fun things until they finally settle on one of them. 

“I’ll take that packet of rings,” she gives Paige a devilish smirk, "I think I just got engaged.”

Paige gapes at Azzi while the woman fetches the packet of rings that Azzi had chosen. As far as fake jewelry goes, the rings are kind of atrocious. Huge colorful stones are placed haphazardly on a silver ring that looks like it might rust the next seconds. Azzi picks out a pink one and hands it to Paige, before holding out her hand. Still slightly dazed by everything, Paige does as she’s gestured to and slips the ring onto Azzi’s ring finger. And she’s sure she must be going insane because the ugly ring looks quite pretty on Azzi’s slender fingers. 

“You better get me a real one eventually,” Azzi says and she’s joking, Paige knows that but she can’t help the part of her that takes it at face value, the part of her that subconsciously promises Azzi to get her a real one eventually. She’s only fifteen and she’s sure she doesn’t know what love is but standing here in the cool Minnesota summer breeze, getting fake engaged to a girl she feels like she’s known her whole life, Paige thinks, maybe she’d like to learn. 

2. crossing boundaries (taking leaps of faith)

The second time Paige says it, they’ve crossed a line in their friendship and she kind of wants to cross a couple more. By this point, Paige is pretty sure she’s at least a little in love with her best friend. It had been okay when she’d first got to UConn, the distance between them allowing Paige to ignore her feelings that had become unbearably intense over the covid year she’d spent with the Fudds. And then the thing she’d worked her ass off to make happen had happened and Azzi had come to UConn. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy to have Azzi here. With her being injured for most of her sophomore season, there’s no one else Paige would have rather had by her side through it all. It was the playing platonic that drove her a little insane. Because somewhere between the arguing over nothing and the talking about everything, Azzi had stopped being her best friend and had become something more. 

It all comes to a head during a mid-April night at Ted’s. They’re partially still in mourning for their national championship loss and so it’s not really a surprise that the team is perhaps a little freer with the alcohol than they normally are. It’s definitely the alcohol that has Paige seething in jealousy at Azzi nonchalantly flirting with some random girl who had had the nerve to buy the brunette a drink. And it’s definitely the alcohol that makes her march over angrily and squeeze herself between the two girls. But it might be a little much to blame the half a glass of spiked shirley Paige had had for the way she wraps her arms around Azzi’s waist, leaning into the younger girl’s personal space in a way that is decidedly not platonic.

“Hi love,” she whispers, blinking her eyes up at a rather confused Azzi, who despite said confusion, doesn’t push her away. Instead, Azzi’s arms circle around Paige’s neck. It’s muscle memory really. But now they’re far closer than appropriate for two best friends and Paige swears she can make out every detail on Azzi’s face. Her eyes fixate on Azzi’s throat as the darker-skinned girl swallows, a sign of nervous anticipation, and she fights the visceral urge to bite down on Azzi’s neck and leave a mark so permanent, no other girl would ever have the audacity to look at what’s hers. 

“Oh, I didn’t know,” she hears the offending flirt say.

“Well now you do,” Paige replies before Azzi can respond, keeping her eyes focused on the girl in front of her, “she’s not interested.”

The sound of feet scurrying away makes Paige smirk. Azzi raises her eyes but doesn’t make a move to pull away. 

“You looked like you needed help,” the blond lies blatantly, “and I’m nothing if not helpful.”

“Is that what you were doing? Trying to be helpful?” Azzi asks, a coy smile playing on her lips as she presses closer to Paige, “because I could have sworn you were jealous.”

Paige’s breath hitches as she focuses on the way Azzi says those words, the way her lips quirk and her eyes sparkle, because it’s not the alcohol this time, no she’s pretty damn sure Azzi’s flirting with her. The realization sets her heart ablaze and she grips Azzi’s waist even tighter, trying to find something stable to hold onto. 

“And if- if I was-  if I was jealous, then what?”

“I’d tell you, you didn’t really have a reason to be. She wasn’t really my type.”

“Yeah,” Paige can’t help but smirk, suddenly feeling a surge of confidence, “what is your type Azzi?”

Azzi hums, her shy smile a response in itself. They’re so close now, with their chests pressed up against each other, that Paige can hear the erratic thrum of Azzi’s heart beating. It’s comforting in a way, to know that she has the effect on Azzi too, that she’s the reason Azzi’s breathing is so uneven. Subconsciously, Paige leans in, eyes tracing the outline of Azzi’s lips, her entire body wracked with want. 

“Azzi,” she whispers, knocking her forehead against the other girl’s, “tell me to stop.” 

Anticipation burns against Paige’s skin, the feeling of finally racing through her body. She’s hypnotized by the way they seem to be breathing as one. Her eyes close of their own accord and she can almost feel the taste of Azzi’s lips when the brunette presses a gentle hand against her chest. 

“Stop,” Azzi whispers. 

Paige’s eyes fly open. Stung, she lets go of Azzi’s waist immediately, the tears ready to fall. She’d been so sure she’d read the moment right-

“Hey, hey no Paige wait,” Azzi scrambles to grab onto the blonde, fully aware of the panic that has settled into the other girl's bones, “I didn’t- I just- I didn’t mean it like that. I- fuck sorry, I don’t- I want-” she takes in a deep breath, her brain unable to speak her mind, “I want to kiss you, I do- I just don’t want our first kiss to be in front of all these people.”

The last part is a little mumbled but Paige hears it clear as day. She gapes at her best friend, not sure if she wants to shake her or jump her bones (both, definitely both). 

“You couldn’t have just said that?” Paige asks exasperatedly, “I don’t really take rejection well in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I panicked, you were so close and I was distracted,” Azzi rambles incoherently and Paige is so ridiculously endeared by this girl. 

“Azzi,” she says slowly, stepping back into the younger girl's space, and holding out a hand, “you wanna get out of here?”

She’s rewarded with a bright smile and Azzi  grabbing her outstretched hand with no hesitation. As the two of them make their way through the crowd, hands locked together, Paige can’t think of a moment where she’s felt this ecstatic. They stumble through the street towards their apartments, giggling like kindergarteners who’ve just been given a sweet treat. After a year, longer, of holding it in, Paige feels like she’s finally free. 

They’ve barely made it to Paige’s room, before she has Azzi pinned against the wall causing the younger girl to let out an audible gasp. It’s sinful the way she looks up at Paige, as if she’d do anything for her. And god Paige wants to find out just how much she can push that. 

“Tell me to stop,” Paige repeats her words from the bar, her right thumb coming up to  lightly caressing Azzi’s bottom lip. She’s giving her an out, a last chance before they cross a line in their friendship that they’ll never be able to uncross. But her words evoke a new fire in Azzi’s eyes and Paige just knows. 

“Absolutely not.”

She’s not sure who kisses who first, doesn’t really care but she knows she’s never felt anything quite like this. It’s something beyond sparks, something more exciting, yet something ever so calming. All she knows is she wants more. Her hands roam everywhere, moving from Azzi’s neck, to her arms, to her hips before moving even lower. And Azzi fucking whimpers, the sound of it causing Paige to press even harder against her. She pulls away and Azzi chases her lips for a second, before Paige attaches them to the younger girl’s neck instead. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this,” Paige manages to get out, biting against Azzi’s skin. She means to be soft, she really does but all she can think about is leaving a mark, a possessive bruise that would make sure everyone knew not to touch what was hers.

“Not longer than me,” Azzi’s hands are tangled in Paige's hair and she’s putty in the older girl’s hand. Paige could ask anything of her, and Azzi’s sure, she’d give it to her in a heartbeat. 

“I’m gonna make it worth the wait,” Paige pants, moving away from the brunette’s neck to kiss her again, “I promise.”

“Gonna show me what the hype is about?” Azzi says cheekily, as Paige pulls her onto the bed. She climbs on top of the blond, straddling her thighs. 

“Gonna show you even better,” Paige whispers and Azzi shivers at the promise in her voice. And then Paige’s lips her on hers again, desperate and impatient. Her hands work meticulously as she unbuttons Azzi’s blouse, leaving the young girl’s upper body bare. Azzi can't help the insecurity that creeps into her when Paige stares at her like that, like she’s seeing her for the first time. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Paige says, erasing away the doubt, “fuck, marry me.”

Paige doesn’t know why that slips out, doesn’t know why it rolls off her tongue so smoothly, doesn’t know why it doesn’t feel like a completely preposterous thing to say at the moment. 

“You say that to all your hookups?” Azzi asks slowly. It’s said light-heartedly enough but the hints of doubt aren’t hard to catch. In one swift motion, Paige flips them so that Azzi’s lying underneath her. Using her elbows, she hovers over the younger girl, making sure she can see the sincerity in her eyes. 

“No, no I don't. And you,” she says pointedly, needing Azzi to understand how she feels, “are not a hookup.”

Azzi smiles, arms wrapping around Paige’s neck, “maybe take me out on a date first and then we can talk about marriage.”

“Yeah, yeah I will but,” Paige grins devilishly, fingers dancing around the waistband of Azzi’s jeans, “I think I’ll fuck you first.

3. on the brink of destruction (maybe you’ll catch me)

The third time Paige says it, she’s desperately trying to save them from falling apart. They’ve always known this moment would come, known it even before they’d known each other. To play in the WNBA had always been the end-goal for both of them and it should be the happiest moment of their lives with both of them being guaranteed first-round picks who were likely to make a roster. But the whole thing comes with the caveat, that for the first time in almost four years, Paige and Azzi will have to learn to live apart from each other. 

Paige hadn’t even considered that it would mean they’d have to break up. The whole season, despite a thousand and one conversations about the draft, the idea hadn’t once been brought up. Long distance would be difficult, Paige knew that, but she’d figured they’d tackle it in the same way they’d faced everything else: together. Apparently Azzi thought differently. Apparently Azzi had been thinking about it for a while and last night, when she’d finally said the words out loud, Paige’s whole world had fallen off balance. She’d tried interrupting but once Azzi had her mind set on something, it was hard to deter her.

It’s been less than 24 hours since and KK and Ice have done everything in their power to distract her but Paige can’t stop thinking about it. If she hadn’t known Azzi for as long as she had, then maybe she would have believed the façade of coldness and practicality that her girlfriend had put on. She had spoken as if she was negotiating the end of a contract, her face set firmly on neutral. But Paige had seen the way she was fidgeting uncontrollably with the hem of her shirt, heard the little crack in her voice when she’d said the actual words out loud. 

“Was she at breakfast?” Paige asks, interrupting whatever spiel KK had been going on. The sophomore gives her a look that veers between irritation and sympathy. 

“Dude, we weren’t even at breakfast. We ate with you up here, remember?”

“Right,” Paige says, mindlessly thumbing at her sheets. She’s in unfamiliar territory, trying to navigate a world without Azzi. She can’t even remember the last morning she’d had that didn’t start with some form of communication with her girlfriend, a good morning kiss or a text or a call. 

“Y’all are being stupid,” Ice supplies unhelpfully. 

“Don’t even start,” Paige quips back defensively, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Maybe that’s the issue,” KK’s report is met with a well-aimed pillow in her direction. 

“Can you guys maybe just take my side for once please?”

“Children of divorce don’t choose sides,” Ice says solemnly. She has the foresight to duck and Paige’s water bottle hits the wall with a resounding thud, “aye no violence.”

“Fuck off and go away,” Paige groans, burying her face in her hands. 

“This is literally my room,” Ice replies and KK snickers. 

“I’m so glad my misery amuses you guys.”

Before either of the two underclassmen can reply, a familiar voice resounds around the room and Paige’s heart almost beats out of her chest. It’s been less than 24 hours but fuck, she’s missed the sound of it.

“Ice do you have- oh.”

“Hi Azzi,” KK says enthusiastically and Paige can already picture the forced smile Azzi gives her. She hates that stupid smile. 

“Hey KK. I- uh, Ice I was looking for the  necklace you borrowed. I- uh wanted to wear it with my dress for the draft, but umm- it’s- it’s fine. I’ll come back later.”

Paige scoffs, suddenly annoyed. She lifts her head from her hands and Azzi’s already looking at her but the minute their eyes meet, she looks away. It only irritates Paige further. 

“It’s fine Az. I can get it for you now,” Ice says, hopping up and rummaging through one of her. 

“No it’s fine, I should go. I have to go do…something.”

“You’re such a fucking liar,” Paige says before she can stop herself. The awkwardness in the air changes to a sinister tension. KK and Ice wear identical expressions of shock and worry, looking back and forth between Paige and Azzi.

“Excuse me?” Azzi says eyes narrowing dangerously. 

“All that bullshit you said last night. You said we’d still be friends. You said it’d be like we used to be before. You said things wouldn’t change that much and this would be for the better. You said we’d be fine. But fucking hell Azzi, you can’t even stand to be in the same room as me right now,” tears prickle in her eyes and she can’t tell if they’re from anger or pain or frustration. 

“I-It will be okay. We’ll be fine, eventually,” Azzi pauses, struggling to get the words out, “I just- we just- we need time to learn how to be just friends again.”

“I don’t want to be just friends Azzi,” Paige spits. 

“Neither do I,” Azzi bursts out, hands clenching, “but we have to try.”

“Oh-kay,” KK cuts in, noticing the rise in voices, “just because Ice and I call ourselves children of divorce, doesn’t mean y’all have to act like an actual divorced couple. All this yelling is not good for my heart.”

“Shut up KK,” they snap at the same time, and KK immediately raises her hands in surrender. 

“Why,” Paige turns her attention back to Azzi, “why do we have to try? You don’t want to be just friends. I sure as shit don’t want to be just friends. So what’s the fucking point? When neither of us want this, why are we fucking doing this?”

“Because I’m scared okay?” Azzi yells, her eyes widening as the truth slips out. She immediately cups her mouth, her anger fading away. Tears pool at the corner of her eyes, as emotions she’d been trying so hard to push down, bubble to the surface. She sees the way Paige eyes soften, can feel the sympathy in the way KK and Ice are looking at her, but before any of them can say anything, her feet are moving, desperate to get away from them, from Paige. 

“Paige,” Ice hisses when the blond stays rooted in place, “move.”

It does the trick, shaking Paige out of her trance. She doesn’t need to be told twice. When she gets to Azzi’s room, she stops outside the door. The goal is to fix things but she’s so scared of damaging them further. Taking a deep breath, she lets herself in and is unsurprised to find Azzi pacing the length of the room. 

“You have ‘got to stop running away from me. I’m not as young as I used to be,” Paige jokes. She’s not expecting a smile in return, the situation is far too tense, but when Azzi looks at her with nothing but sadness, all the humour leaves her body. 

“Please leave me alone,” Azzi whispers,  “please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“You’re the one making this harder Az. We don’t have to do this,” Paige takes a step forward, groaning when Azzi immediately takes a step back. 

“We do because otherwise we’re gonna fall apart. You don’t see it but we’re gonna end up resenting each other because we miss each other so much,” Azzi says miserably, the tears freely falling now. 

“You think I’ll miss you less if you’re not my girlfriend? You think breaking up is going to stop us from falling apart?” Paige asks incredulously, “you know you’ve had some stupid ideas before Azzi, but this, this one might be the dumbest yet.”

“Well, do you have a better one?” Azzi asks, throwing her hands in the air. 

“Yes, let’s just get married instead! Then we’ll have to be stuck with each other for life and you can stop trying to break up with me,” and maybe it’s somewhat of an irrational thing to say but Paige finds that she means it.

“Paige,” Azzi grits out, “this is serious.”

“I’m being dead serious right now actually.”

“Marriage is not going to stop us from being drafted to different teams. It’s not gonna stop us from having to live in different states.”

“Neither is breaking up,” Paige yells. Frustrated, she marches over to Azzi, encircling her arms around the other girl who immediately struggles against Paige's hold but the blonde is in no mood to let this, whatever it is, go on any further. 

“Let me go-”

“No. It’s my turn to talk okay,” Paige says, tightening her grip, “get this through your head, we are not breaking up.”

She pinches Azzi’s waist when the younger girl tries to protest. Her girlfriend is nothing if not stubborn but so is Paige. 

“You know I barely slept last night? I’ve been so fucking miserable all day. I’ve spent every minute thinking about you, every minute missing you. And if we do this, that feeling of missing you and knowing I can’t have you, is how I’m going to feel for the rest of my life. And that, that might kill me. I know you think it’ll be easier being friends or whatever but I can’t do that Azzi. I can’t be your friend. I can’t be near you and not kiss you. I can’t call you and not tell you I love you,” Paige’s voice breaks near the end as tears begin to stream down her face. 

“I’m scared. I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose you,” Azzi confesses in a whisper and it’s heartbreaking how vulnerable the darker-skinned girl sounds. 

“Then don’t. Keep me and let me keep you. I know you're scared baby but,” Paige presses her forehead against Azzi’s, “but trust me Azzi, we’ll make it work okay. I need you to believe that. I need you to believe in us. Please Azzi, please.”

Azzi closes her eyes and Paige can almost see the cogs turning in her brain. Waiting for a decision is excruciating and the silence feels deafening as Paige’s intrusive thoughts drive her a little insane. 

“Okay,” Azzi breathes out finally, “okay we’ll try it your way. But if it doesn’t work-”

“It’s going to work,” Paige says determinedly. And finally, Azzi smiles, the real one that Paige loves. 

“It’s going to work,” she repeats back, leaning up to kiss Paige and letting out an ungraceful squawk when Paige dodges her lips, “excuse me.”

“You don’t get a kiss,” the older girl replies, moving out of reach and crossing her arms, “you just tried to break up with me. Twice.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whines, “please, I haven’t kissed you for hours.”

“And whose fault is that?” Paige accuses but there’s no true anger behind her words. 

Azzi pouts for a second before it’s replaced by a mischievous smirk. Before Paige can react, she jumps onto the blond, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck. The impact of it causes Paige to stumble back a little bit before her hands settle on Azzi's hips to keep them both stable. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Azzi babbles, kissing every inch of Paige’s face. 

“Okay, okay, okay, you’re forgiven.” Paige laughs. She’s never been particularly good at staying mad at Azzi. The knot in her chest, which’s been pressing against her ribcage since last night, finally unravels as Paige tugs Azzi closer, finally pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. A low wolf-whistle from the doorway breaks them apart far sooner than they’d have liked. 

“Y’all didn’t even last a whole 24 hours,” KK’s voice is amused but there’s a hint of relief hidden in it. 

“Should’ve closed the fucking door,” Paige grumbles as Azzi giggles into the crevice between her head and her neck. 

“That’s gotta be a record for shortest breakup ever or something,” and there’s Ice, looking equally as amused. 

“You know what that means though, parents are back together and,” KK smirks at Ice and Paige looks between the two of them questioningly, “you owe me 50 bucks.”

“Excuse me?” Paige asks with a raised eyebrow, although she’s pretty sure she already knows. 

“Ice said y’all would be broken up for a week. I gave y’all three days,” KK grins triumphantly, despite Ice giving her a dirty look. 

“I can’t believe you guys would bet on us,” Azzi shakes her head disapprovingly as she lifts her head, “actually no scratch that. I’m not surprised at all.”

“We were too generous with it though,” Ice gives them a knowing look, “can’t believe y’all thought you could survive for years.”

“Not y’all,” Paige corrects, “just Azzi.”

Azzi groans, “you’re never gonna let me forget this are you?”

“Nope,” Paige says happily, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s temple, who immediately grins. And everything in the world is right again. It’s not going to be easy being god knows how many miles apart, but Paige knows they’ll be fine. They have to be. She won’t let them be anything else. 

4. the high of it all (as long as you hold me)

The fourth time she says it, Paige doesn’t even fully remember it the day after. She won’t find out exactly what she’s said until a couple of years into the future when Azzi tells her the story with a fond look in her eye. It’s a month or so into their rookie seasons when their respective teams meet: the Lynx vs the Mystics, funny how that had worked out. So far, they’d both been doing well, locked in a competitive race for rookie of the year. As a result, their matchup is well-hyped, but no one’s more excited for it, than the two of them. 

The game ends with the Lynx winning and Paige shoots Azzi a victorious smirk which earns her a familiar eye roll. She loves winning always but this time there’s the additional reward of having her girlfriend back in her bed for the first time in weeks. The anticipation of it has her running her tongue across her lips, and with the way Azzi’s eyes glaze over, it’s clear they’re thinking the same thing. 

A couple of hours later, the Lynx team is spread out across one of the bars near their arena and Paige is definitely teetering on the edge of being drunk. She’d been a lot more reserved the other couple of times they’d done this, not wanting to take the chance of potentially embarrassing herself in front of her older teammates. But she feels freer tonight and the reason for it hasn't walked in yet.

“You two haven’t changed at all huh?” Dorka laughs, as she watches Paige pouting at the door. 

“Hey,” Paige whines, “I haven’t seen her in months! And now she’s taking too long.”

“One month,” Dorka corrects, shaking her head fondly, “and you talk to her every other hour.” 

“Same differ-”

“Hi,” an unfamiliar voice cuts Paige off, an auburn haired girl sliding into the stool next to her, “you’re Paige Bueckers?”

“Last time I checked,” Paige replies goofily, eyes still fixed on the front door. 

“I’m Shay. I’m a huge fan,” the stranger gushes, her smile radiant, “could I maybe get a picture?”

Never one to disappoint, especially not when she’s a little out of it, Paige nods. She wraps her arm casually around Shay’s shoulder, and makes a peace sign with her other hand as the other girl takes a selfie. 

“Thank you,” Shay takes a deep breath, “I uh, I was wondering if I could maybe get your num-”

“Babyyyyyy,” Paige lets out a shrill squeak as she spots her girlfriend finally entering the door. All else seems to fade away as the blonde practically skips towards her girlfriend. Dorka, who’d been watching the previous exchange, can’t help but give a very shell-shocked-looking Shay a sympathetic smile. 

“Hi babyyyy,” Paige croons again as she throws her arms around her girlfriend's neck, burying her face contentedly into Azzi’s neck. It doesn’t matter that she’s an inch or so taller than the younger girl, she fits in Azzi’s arms pretty perfectly. 

“Hi drunkie,” Azzi says fondly, brushing her hands through Paige’s hair and eliciting a happy sigh from the inebriated blond in her arms, “started without me I see.”

“You took too long and I was bored,” Paige says, snuggling further, her breath tickling against Azzi’s collarbone, making the younger girl’s breath hitch. Smirking, Paige bites down gently, knowing the exact effect it’ll have. Almost five years together, and the idea of marking her girlfriend still drives her a little insane. 

“Behave,” Azzi warns, her voice breathy, “we’re in public.”

“Then let’s get out of public,” Paige whispers as she caresses the mark she’s just left on Azzi’s throat with her tongue, clearly proud of her handiwork, “let me take you home.”

“I just got here babe,” it’s a weak response, they both know it. 

“So what?”

“I-,” Azzi stutters as Paige continues to pepper kisses into her neck, one of her hands sliding down to brush against Azzi’s exposed navel, “I haven’t even said hi to anyone else.”

“Are you here for anyone else? Or are you here for me?” 

It’s a blur how it happens, but one minute Paige is tucked under Azzi’s arms, the next Azzi finds herself pressed against the bar, Paige's hands barricading her. It's too dimly lit for anyone to be fully aware of what’s going on but Azzi desperately tries to stifle a moan when Paige shifts so that she’s filthily grinding against one of Azzi’s thighs, lips still attached to her neck. 

“Gonna make you feel so good baby. Gonna give you whatever you want. Gonna give you everything you need,” the blond promises, knowing, when Azzi’s eyes involuntarily close, that she’s close to getting what she wants, “just let me take you home.”

“Azzi!” The feeling of getting her way is short lived as Dorka’s voice echoes around them. Paige groans as her girlfriend’s eyes immediately fly open and she ducks under Paige arms to hug their old UConn teammate.

As the two other girls meet, Paige downs another drink, mumbling about “fucking Hungarians.”

“Ignore her,” Azzi rolls her eyes, still hugging Dorka, who lets out a laugh. 

“Alright that’s enough,” Paige frowns, pulling Azzi back into her so that her back is pressed against Paige’s chest, “go find your own Azzi to hug, this one’s mine and we’re leaving.”

Sober Paige does not get testy when Azzi hugs other people, especially not old teammates and friends, well not a lot anyway. But drunk Paige doesn’t like sharing her girlfriend, no matter how platonically that is. 

“Always so possessive Bueckers,” Dorka teases, but she complies  “it was good seeing you Az. Don’t be late to practice Paige.”

The blond point guard lets out a satisfied sigh, lacing her hands with Azzi’s, “see you’ve met people, now can we please go?”

“I’ve met one person,” Azzi rolls her eyes but doesn’t put up a fight as her girlfriend begins to pull her out of the bar. 

The uber ride back to Paige’s apartment is relatively silent with Paige tucking herself into Azzi, who can tell that despite her previous eagerness, her girlfriend is pretty likely to pass out the minute she lies down. It doesn’t matter really. Cuddles. Sex. Whatever. As long as it’s with Paige, Azzi loves every minute of it. Besides, there’s always tomorrow morning. 

“M’sorry, m’so tired,” Paige mumbles as she does exactly what Azzi had expected by flopping onto the bed the minute they tumble into the bedroom, “make it up to you tomorrow. I promise.”

The brunette shakes her head with a smile, taking both their shoes off, before lying down next to her girlfriend, who immediately curls into her, wrapping her arms around Azzi’s torso. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I missed you,” she whispers into Azzi’s skin, eyes closed. 

“Missed you too baby,” the darker skinned girl pressed a kiss onto her girlfriend’s forehead, squeezing her arm gently. 

There’s a pause and for a second Azzi thinks maybe Paige has fallen asleep until the next words come out her mouth and steal Azzi’s breath away. 

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Paige confesses in a whisper, “you’re gonna make the prettiest bride. We’re gonna have such a beautiful wedding. Outside. Maybe on a basketball court.  And Coach is gonna officiate it and everyone’s gonna be there. Our family, our friends and it’s gonna be wonderful. The best ever.”

Azzi can’t bring herself to speak, the emotions suddenly becoming a little too strong. She knows Paige is drunk but the words are so sincere, like they’re things Paige has been thinking about for a long time. 

“Gonna have two kids,” Paige smiles as she continues to babble, unaware of the effect that has on Azzi, “a girl and a boy. They’re gonna be the most loved kids in the world. And we’re gonna teach them basketball. And they’re gonna be perfect, just like you. Just like us.”

In the silence, Azzi listens to Paige’s breathing even out, a sign that the older girl has drifted into sleep. And she lets herself imagine the picture Paige had just painted for her. As she holds her girlfriend closer to her, she knows she wants that life too. The wedding. The kids. The perfection of it all. She falls asleep dreaming about it, unaware that hidden in the drawer right next to her, is a ring that has her name on it. 

5. finding forever (the inevitability of us) 

When Paige finally proposes, they’re back at the Minnesota State Fair. She’s had the ring for a couple of years now, waiting for things to fall into place so that they could finally play on the same team and actually be together. That hadn’t been an easy process and of course, they’d argued about it, perhaps going a little too far at times. But now, when she finally gets to wake up to Azzi’s peaceful sleepy smile, every single morning, it all seems worth it. 

The proposal, if Paige is honest, is just a formality. In her head, she’s been a married woman for a long time. Whatever ceremony they’d have, whatever papers they’d sign, wouldn’t do much to alter their already domestic lives. But she wanted that celebration, the moment with her family and friends where they’d become bound in the one way they weren’t yet: legally. And this proposal was the start of that. 

The list of ideas she’d planned out and discussed with their family and friends was long and had earned her plenty of sighs and eye rolls. Nothing had seemed quite right until she’d whined about it to both their mothers. They’d said to go back to the beginning and it had all clicked into place. 

As they have every year since they’d started coming to the state fair together, they’re engaged in a competition again. Every year, they get a little bit more competitive and every year their families' sighs get a little heavier. Something about it, makes the two of them reverse back to being fifteen. The ridiculous trash talk, the sticking their tongues out at each other, the exaggerated pouting when they lose, it’s all further proof of them still being children at heart. Except now, when Azzi pouts, Paige gets to kiss it off. 

They’re tied again this summer, as they seem to be most years. Though this year, there’s been a little bit of planning on Paige’s part. 

“Pop-a-shot it is,” Azzi sighs, “even though you absolutely cheated on that last hole in mini golf,” she turns to their families, who normally would have left by now but have stayed back today, with a dramatic spin, “and I can’t believe you all saw it, but you’re taking her side.”

“Not me Azzi, I’m on your side. I know she cheated,” Drew, the traitor, chirps with a smirk and Paige glares at her little brother whose loyalty to her girlfriend never wavers. 

“Thank you Drew. The only person who loves me for real,” Azzi puts one hand to her heart, and ruffles the younger boy’s with the other. 

“Save the dramatics for when you lose babe,” Paige says, rolling her eyes, “alright rock paper scissors.”

They play best of three as they always do. Paige wins the first round. Azzi wins the second. There’s momentary panic when Azzi technically wins the third because well, Paige sort of needs to be in control if this is going to work. The thing is Azzi likes to mix up whether she’ll choose to go first or second, according to her it keeps Paige on her toes. But today Paige really needs her girlfriend to go second. 

“Oh Az no cheating,” Tim cuts in, coming to the rescue, “you waited to see what she’d do.”

“WHAT?” Azzi squeals, “I absolutely did not.”

“Oh honey, I think you did,” Katie sends Paige a wink and she can’t help but smile at the family she’s found. 

“You’re not serious,” Azzi says with a betrayed voice, squinting at her parents, before turning to Paige’s mom, who gives her a consoling pat, “please adopt me.”

“Oh quit whining cheater,” Paige teases, “I’m going first.”

She steps up to the line for the game, feeling more nervous than she ever has really because this is it. There isn’t really a world in which she thinks Azzi will say no, at least not one where Paige continues breathing after. But she needs this to be perfect. Bouncing the ball for a second, she takes in a deep breath before raising her arms and shooting. It goes in, barely touching the room. So does the next. And the next one and the next one, until Paige has gotten nine shots in. 

As she goes to shoot the last one, Azzi's voice echoes around her, “miss it for me babe.”

And she does. It’s probably one of the weakest shot’s she’s ever taken in her life, the ball falling far below the basket. Behind her, she can hear their brother’s snickering. 

“Damn someone should send that to Coach,” Azzi teases, hip-checking Paige as she comes to take her spot, “better luck next time baby.”

“Yeah, yeah let’s see you do better,” Paige replies cockily, but her hands are sweating with nerves. 

“Oh you know I will,” her girlfriend responds with a grin, as she makes the first basket, that same perfect arc as always. Paige holds her breath on every shot, as the ball goes in flawlessly every time, their families cheering loudly for each one of them. As the last basket gets closer, Drew gives Paige’s hand a tight squeeze and gets a grateful smile in return. 

Taking a deep breath, as Azzi gets ready to take her last turn, Paige repeats the same words she’d said, the first time they’d been in this situation, “if you make the last shot, you have to marry me.”

“What?” Azzi whips around immediately, her eyes bright with confusion. Tongue-tied, Paige only shrugs and smiles, watching closely as Azzi lets the words sink in. A determined look crosses her face, followed by a mischievous smirk, and Paige’s heart swells. She knows the ball is going in the hoop even before the other girl's arms are in shooting position. And she’s right. The ball arcs in air and falls through the basket. And instead of the patent WINNER that normally lights up when someone makes the 10 shots, a new phrase appears on the dashboard. 

MARRY ME

Azzi gasps, hands flying to her mouth. When she whirls around, Paige is already on one knee and their families are watching with the biggest smiles. 

“I knew you lost on purpose,” Azzi breathes out, “you’ve never taken such a shit shot like that last one in your life.”

“Seriously,” Paige gapes up at her, “that’s what you get from this.”

“Babe, you hate losing,” Azzi emphasizes as if that explains everything and well, maybe it does.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Paige nods, reaching in her back pocket to pull out the ring, “but if you say yes to me today, then it doesn’t matter if I win or lose in a stupid arcade game, or on the court or anywhere, if you say yes Azzi, no matter what, I’ll always be a winner because I’ll have you. And I had a slightly better, slightly longer speech planned but it’s kinda all gone from my mind now, so I’ll just get right to it,” she manages a watery smile in response to her girlfriend’s tearful laugh, “Azzi, my soulmate and the love of my life, will you marry me?”

“Yes. Oh my god yes, of course, yes,” Azzi manages to get out, before she falls to her knees and into Paige’s arms, pressing her lips fervently against the blonde’s, their happy tears mixing into each other. Behind them, their families burst into cheers, hugging one another in congratulations.

“Wait, wait,” Paige pulls away, her smile stretching across her whole face, “I need to put the ring on you.”

She opens the ring box, to reveal a silver band that’s designed with a large diamond in the shape of a heart in the middle with two infinity shapes made out of smaller diamonds on each side of the heart. Azzi holds out her hand, eyes shining as Paige slips it onto her ring finger. It sparkles underneath the glow of the moonlight. 

“You finally got me a real one,” she whispers, continuing to admire the ring, “fuck, Paige it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah it took me a couple of years but I always knew I would. Look at the inside,” Paige nudges and Azzi squints to see the inscription on the inner edge of the ring. 

Since Always

The meaning of it is clear and Azzi lets out something in between a sob and a laugh before throwing herself back into Paige’s waiting arms. 

“I love you,” she whispers into her girlfriend’s, no, her fiance’s ears, “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

Paige’s arms tighten around Azz as she repeats it back, the word wife, evoking a newfound feeling she doesn’t quite know how to put in words. Their families begin to crowd them, until they’re all just a heap of bodies, likely earning some odd looks from passers-by. But it really doesn’t matter. It’s odd to think there had ever been a time when Paige had stood in this same cool Minnesota summer evening breeze and not know what love was, not known who Azzi was. Because this right here, with her fiancé in her arms, and their family all around them, this, she thinks, is the definition of love.

[msbigredmachine]

New To This - Chapter 15

MASTERLIST

An hour after the hour-long ride from Josh’s house, Delilah was still perambulating around town, her mind filled with everything that she was going to say to Andre. She tried to anticipate his every reaction, mentally preparing herself for anything he could throw at her. What she would do if he cried. What she would do if he yelled. What she’d do if he even became violent. Yesterday in his gym, Josh had taught her a chokehold that she could take down people twice her size with, in the ring and in real life. She even came up with a plan for handling his stoic silence. All bases needed to be covered for a decision this monumental.

But before all that, she made a call to her sister, Simone, to ask if she was home. She needed to talk to her first before anyone else. Her friend and co-worker, Tiwa would be at Simone’s too, as she was the babysitter to CJ, Delilah’s three-year-old nephew. Her mother would also be contacted on FaceTime, so Delilah would be killing several birds with one stone.

It was a somber affair, breaking the news to her family. Over a plate of Simone’s comfort food and a pitcher of Clay’s (Simone’s husband) “famous” iced tea, with Grace on the other end of Simone’s iPad propped up on the kitchen table, Delilah sat them all down and laid out everything that had happened with Andre and Josh and what her plans were. As she unburdened herself, the gravity of what was happening to her life began to dawn on her for the first time maybe since this whole thing started. Overcome with emotion, the tears began to fall as she came to terms with the end of her life as she knew it, which included a decade of devotion to the boy she’d loved since she was a teenager. 

Simone and Tiwa sat on either side of her, the latter handing her a tissue, their embrace warm and comforting, their expressions surprisingly understanding. However, her mother did not share the same empathy, and watching her eyes fill with disappointment through the iPad sank Delilah’s heart. 

Grace frowned. “Child, what on earth are you doing?” 

Dabbing her eyes, Delilah shook her head, refusing to be deterred by the negativity. Not this time. “Something I should have done long ago, Mama. Andre and I’s relationship has been falling apart and I didn’t see it until it was too late.”

“From everything you’ve just said, you’re the reason y‘all are falling apart. You were unfaithful to him and threw away a stable life for some…wrestler,” Grace scolded, ever judgmental. “And you've not even told him! This is ungodly behavior from you, Delilah.”

“Mama, stop,” Simone cut in, “What’s happened has happened. Let’s just be there for her and-”

“I do not accept that, Simone. Your sister is behaving like a child.  Your daddy and I did not raise either of you to be so reckless and irresponsible! If he was here-”

“If he was here, he would have supported me no matter what!” Delilah finished for her, more tears falling as the mental and physical exhaustion of telling her truth took its toll. “All I ever wanted since my wrestling journey began was your support and Andre’s, Mama, but neither of you gave it to me and I ended up finding it somewhere else.” Wiping her eyes again, she shook her head, determined to get her point across. “I never meant for this to happen and I’m sorry that it's going to hurt Andre in the process. But I’m not sorry I met Joshua. Ultimately, he helped me reach my goal and I’m forever grateful to him. I don’t expect you to understand. I’m a grown woman, and the decisions I’ve made thus far are mine and mine alone.”

Grace tsked, her nose turned up at the absurdity of this situation. “You have so much to learn about life, my dear daughter. It’s a shame you chose to learn the hard way.” With that, she ended the call, the screen returning abruptly to CJ's grinning face that made up Simone’s Home Screen. 

Blowing out a shaky breath, Delilah pushed away the plate in front of her, feeling sick to her stomach. “Well…that went well,” she murmured sarcastically.

Tiwa rubbed her shoulder and rested her head on the other one. “It’s okay, Dee. She’ll come around.”

“She never comes around,” Delilah scoffed. Her mother was stubborn and strong headed and stuck to her ‘principles’ no matter how flawed and traditionalist they were.

“I’ll make sure she does,” Simone promised, peering closely at her little sister. “You do understand why she’s acting out, right? She’s just worried and wants the best for you professionally and personally.” Simone had the same concerns as her mother, adding to her disapproval of this love triangle her sister had deposited herself in. But the last thing Delilah needed right now was more scolding. “Tell you what, whatever happens with you and Andre, I’ll make the guest room available for you. You can stay here until your move to Orlando. I know CJ will be happy to have his auntie around.”

Letting her big sister’s words sink in, Delilah smiled a watery smile, grateful that she had someone’s unconditional support in whatever she decided. “Thank you.”

“You never need to thank me for anything, Lilah Girl. By the way, what does this Josh boy even look like? I wanna see what the fuss is all about.”

Tiwa swooned and made a show of fanning herself. “Sis, he is six different kinds of fine.”

“For real? Lilah, let me see!”

Chuckling softly, Delilah opened up her phone and found one of his photos with his newly won Intercontinental championship belt. Simone did a double take. “Damn, girl! Tiwa’s right. He’s gorgeous! Do he got brothers? Asking for a friend of course.”

“It better be for a friend,” Clay chimed in from the living room, making them all laugh. “Of course, baby, I'm asking for Tiwa over here!” Simone joked.

Leaving her sister’s home feeling just a modicum better about herself, Delilah reluctantly made her way back to reality. The closer she got to her trailer home though, the confidence diminished and the butterflies in her stomach increased as she struggled to get her emotions in check.

What she was about to do, the words she was about to say, would signal the end of the only romantic relationship she had ever known. She was about to put a definite end to the only life she was familiar with and launch herself face-first into a completely daunting one that she, for all intents and purposes, knew very little about in the first place. It had nothing to do with Josh, and very little to do with Andre. This was about Delilah finally doing something for herself, something she should have done long ago.

If she was honest, she was glad that Andre had gone to that audition. She was glad that he had been called back. She sincerely hoped that he would make it far in the competition and be on TV too. She wanted him to be happy. But more than that, she had been looking for the perfect way out and finally she’d found it. Having him around all the time, working out with her and attending her shows, was supposed to make everything right again. But it hadn't.

The only real purpose the last few weeks had served was to increase her guilt over sleeping with Josh. As much as she told herself that she pushed her lover to the back of her mind, the truth was that their affair was never far from her thoughts. She had nearly confessed to Andre on multiple occasions, but couldn't bring herself to break his heart. His announcement about the Idol callback had given her the perfect cover to blow up.

But she was tired of pretending and feeling guilty. There were more mistakes in her life to come, but she wanted to make them on her own without worrying about someone else's feelings. She owed Andre complete honesty. She needed to finally confess and let him go. She needed to move on and so did he.

By the time she parked alongside the house, she had resigned herself to her fate. As agreed, she would crash at Simone’s house for her final few weeks in Pensacola and deal with the weight of what she had done. And then she would move down south all by herself and move on with her life. She would be okay. Andre would be okay.

Somewhat quelled by this, she stepped through the front door of her house.

Sitting on the couch with his feet resting atop a big cardboard box, Andre sipped from a beer bottle. "I think this is everything," he nodded to the other boxes stacked around the room. "I kept the dishes, but your pots and pans are in there," he pointed toward a couple of boxes next to the kitchen island.

A numbness settled into her entire body. Opening her mouth and then shutting it again several times, Delilah leaned against the front door and spluttered, "You're kicking me out?"

"You didn't come home. For two days," Andre stated, his voice surprisingly void of anger. "You somehow managed to get it up in your head that I don't give a fuck about you, Dee, but I do. More than you could ever know.” He took another swig of his beer. "The guys left at around one a.m. When you didn’t come back in the morning, I got worried. So I went to Tank’s gym. You wasn't there. Went to Simone’s. Not there, either. Then I remembered the tracker on your bike," he said.

Delilah's shoulders sagged with relief and something else. She knew where this was going. "Andre," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.

But he only held up a hand and continued his dialogue. "You took me a long way outta town, babe," he said, "Luckily, I’ve been to this neighborhood a few times for work, so it was easy to get in. I followed the tracker and I found your bike in some fancy new house parked next to a big ol' Escalade. His security system sucks, by the way. I was able to sneak ‘round the back of the house into the backyard, and who do I see in the pool?" Meeting her eyes, he took another drink, his expression hard. “Y’all were too busy to see me standing there, but now I know who you been learnin’ all your little sex tricks from.”

The bile rose in her throat faster than her body could compute. Rushing down the hall and into their bedroom, Delilah emptied the contents of her stomach into the bowl as sobs wracked her body. She had intended to tell him about the affair. She had planned it perfectly on her way back from Simone’s but now her plan had been blown to smithereens.

As she dragged herself to her feet and flushed the toilet, Andre loomed behind her like a shadow, leaning casually on the doorframe. "How long have you been fucking him? Hmm? My guess is since your tryout," he surmised. It was an image he would probably never forget; not just catching her in the act, but it was the look on her face...the freedom, the euphoria...She had never looked that way in all the years they'd been together. It was at that moment that he made his decision to take this long overdue step.

Splashing water over her face, Delilah rested against the edge of the sink, avoiding his eyes. She couldn't look at him, couldn't bring herself to see the accusations in his eyes. Nodding, she sniffled back another sob. 

"I'm so sorry," she managed to choke out when she risked a glance at him through lowered lashes. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Andre smirked, shaking his head in disbelief. "You don't just fuckin' cheat on your fiancé by accident, Dee. I know it might be hard for you, but can you at least try to respect me enough to tell me the fucking truth now that I know? He's been in our house. Did y'all fuck here, too?"

"No, of course not!" Like a wounded animal, all she wanted to do was hiss, claw, and bite back at him. She wanted to scream for him to understand, to try to act like an adult for once. But she had broken their engagement. She had been planning a life without him. She had no right to fight back.

Squeezing past him, she glanced into their bedroom. The piles of laundry on the floor were seriously diminished, and the candles were gone. The closet was more than half empty, her clothes and the rest of her belongings gone, probably in one of those boxes in the living room. This was really happening, and she couldn’t bring herself to stop it.

"When I met him, he was just Main Event Jey Uso, ya know?" she started, lowering herself to the bed and then standing again. Sitting felt too comfortable. She didn't deserve comfort right now. "One of the most over guys in the business that I wanted so badly to be a part of. He was really complimentary about my talents. And it felt so good." 

The look on Andre’s face made her wince a bit. She knew how absurd it sounded. She knew that it didn't make sense. But she knew that there was nothing she could say that would sound valid. There was nothing that made her actions right. "Knowing that somebody thought I was good enough to make it, that he wanted me to succeed? It was easy to convince myself that I was just thanking him for having faith in me."

In disbelief, Andre sat his beer bottle on the top of the dresser and crossed his arms. "You couldn't just buy him a thank you card or somethin’? Gift basket?"

"How? We’re broke as fuck!" Delilah argued without thinking, regretting it instantly.

A wry laugh escaped him as he scratched the top of his head. "Right. Our money issues. Of course," he started, biting his lip and shaking his head. "Ya know what? I'm not even gonna do this with you. We've both known this was coming anyways," he sighed, turning back for the living room. “I’ll drive you to Simone’s. You need to get whatever else you got here before you head out.”

Delilah followed him, her legs as heavy as lead, wondering why she felt so hollow. It was what she had wanted. She had the gun loaded and cocked before she ever walked in the door. She guessed it was just hard to accept that she wasn't the one pulling the trigger. "Can I ask you a question?" she spoke up.

Andre opened the door and lifted one of the heavier boxes into his arms, leaning against the wall for support when he looked back. “Might as well."

"Why pretend all this time?" she asked, grabbing the box closest to her before moving toward the door.

Andre stepped onto the porch and spoke over his shoulder, "I wasn't pretending," he grunted, laying the box on the ground and opening his trunk to place the box inside. Resting his hands on his hips, he offered her the first genuine smile she had seen since arriving home. "You forget who you're talkin' to, Dee? I’ve known you for half our lives. When you go off to the most life-changing event of your life and you don't call me at all? I know somethin' is up, okay? You had already decided that you were goin' to Orlando before you ever got home. So what was I supposed to do? Fight you?

"I figured I'd give it a shot. I decided I was gonna try to give it a shot, try to salvage what was left of us. Cuz ya know what?" Tilting his head to the side, he gave her that crooked grin that had always set her heart on fire in the past. "Believe it or not, this ain't easy. It ain’t easy walkin' away from somethin' that's been your life for as long as you can remember. But this has to happen. We ain't been right for a long time, and every time we try to fix it, we fuck it up even more."

For a moment, she thought that she might throw up again. The way that he was shrugging his shoulders made it seem as though he didn't care. But he was right. They knew each other. She could see it in his eyes. He loved her, more than he was ever going to admit in words. "And you don't think that we can co-exist for another couple of weeks?" she asked, unsure of where the questions were coming from. But at the moment, the thought of leaving him hurt more than she could explain. Not Andre, her fiancé, but Andre, her best friend since high school.

"No," he said without hesitation, stepping past her en route to the house to grab the last box. "You need to go, Dee. You need to follow your dreams. I've seen you wrestle, and you shine brighter than a damn diamond. You light up, and the crowd loves you. It’s where you're supposed to be. Not in this house," he explained.

Stepping back over the threshold, she wordlessly helped him carry the rest of the boxes to his truck. Once they were all loaded, she turned and looked at him, slightly amazed by how peaceful all of this was going. "I was gonna leave today," she informed him.

Andre smiled, unsurprised. "I was going to ask you to leave today," he said, "I guess we’re both doing what needs to be done."

At that, a sense of calm filled her beyond all reasoning. She was seconds away from abandoning the union they had worked so hard to maintain, yet both were happier than they had been in more than a year.

Glancing down, she spotted the final piece of her connection to him, the sparkling diamond ring still on her finger. Sighing heavily, she slowly tugged it off her finger and took his hand, pressing it into his palm. Andre locked eyes with her the entire exchange, the sadness, the relief and resignation in his eyes reflecting the emotions she was feeling too.

After rolling her motorcycle onto the back of his truck, Andre opened the passenger's side to help his now ex-fiancée in before moving to his own side, kickstarting the vehicle to begin the ride to Simone’s house. In the rearview mirror, Delilah cast one last look at her former life, heaving a heavy, cleansing sigh. The first chapter of her new journey had been completed, and despite the bittersweet sensations she was currently experiencing, she couldn't wait to crack on with the next chapter.

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

Thoughts?

Please leave comments! I love comments! 😁

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Random thought I just had in my hospital bed, but what if Alice had immediately called Rosalie/the Cullens after seeing Bella is alive? And then continued to talk to Bella?

Which scenario are we in?

We're in the "Edward gets really really really pissed because no one does what he wanted and EVERYONE IS RUINING EVERYTHING!!!"

But Let's Back it Up

Before Rosalie has a chance to call Edward?

Rosalie goes "ugh" and is very pissed off that Bella is still somehow causing their family a bunch of drama over nothing, that Alice apparently has false positives now about people fucking dying, and is so done with this bullshit.

But Edward is not told that "Bella is dead, come home and stop this".

However, the Cullens don't get to sit on their hands too long as, "news, everybody!" it turns out Victoria has been picking off people in the Forks area, held out by teenage shapeshifters, to get to Bella so that she can kill Edward's mate as a part of her revenge for the death of James.

Remember Laurent? The guy Irina's stupid in love with? He was one of them!

And wow, it sure seems like this is kind of the Cullen's fault for refusing to keep even small tabs on the town/Bella because Edward was so determined to be a dramatic diva and tear himself out of her life.

I imagine the Cullens (sans Edward, he's still moping in Rio) have a meeting and while it's going to be a tough call (Rosalie wants nothing to do with this, Jasper is torn as he wants Victoria dealt with but also doesn't want to put Alice back on her radar) ultimately I think they'd vote to go back to Forks for as long as it takes to deal with this problem.

And erm, we'll see about Bella (there's no Volturi 'thou shalt' yet nor Edward's attempted suicide, so it's not as dire as it was canonically).

The question is...

Do they tell Edward? On the one hand, he'll be pissed if he finds out they went behind his back because his lady love/Forks was in danger. He'd be beyond pissed, he'd feel betrayed on an unheard of level.

On the other hand, Edward will throw a massive fit (much like the one he threw to get them out of Forks in the first place), and when he realizes his "leave Bella" plan has had unintended side effects, that placed Bella in even more danger... a) he'll despise himself which is the last thing Edward needs b) who knows what the fuck he'll do in response to this.

There's a very tempting option here where, maybe, they can take care of things quickly enough in Forks that Edward never even realizes they went back.

This is an even more heated debate, and I imagine it's very 50/50 and "... Alice, er, how does he take it?"

Ultimately, they probably decide to tell him. He has to know what's happened, they can't keep this secret forever, and he deserved to know exactly what has happened, both the good and the bad.

Rosalie does not get to tell Edward, as that's a very bad idea, and I imagine Carlisle gets to tell him.

And so, Edward gets a phone call in Rio telling him "you done fucked up, son", not only that, but remember how he was chasing Victoria and he pathetically lost her in Mexico and kept going south for some reason until he landed in Rio? Yeah, she went all the way back to Forks where she's been trying to eat Bella this entire time.

Laurent nearly did.

And the only people protecting her are those temperamental shapeshifters who it turns out are back in full force.

And so, Edward loses his goddamn mind.

Edward: The Eclipsining

Edward comes racing back and acts similar to how he did in Eclipse. The carpet was pulled out from under him, this Jacob Black character has moved in on his territory in a way Edward did not expect for all he thought he wanted Bella to move on. Worse, Bella's in even more danger than before, has picked up very dangerous habits, and now he has to crawl back into her good graces.

Trouble is, Edward also hasn't quite been convinced that he can't live without her yet/he would have broken eventually. He knows he was having a shit time in Rio, but he didn't have that moment of her death where he concluded there was no purpose to his life anymore. Oh, he still plans to nobly kill himself when she dies, but he sincerely thinks he can leave her alone, she can live her human life, and he'll kill himself off screen.

It's just... when he leaves her alone she doesn't live that idyllic human life he wants her to.

If Bella puts it to a vote, I imagine she'll still win as Carlisle will probably side with the majority, even though there's no threat of execution/Edward's imminent suicide on the table. In which case Edward smashes the Korean TV, but I'm not sure would ask for marriage.

He wants to marry Bella, but he also doesn't want her to commit her precious human life to him/he still wants to extract himself. I imagine Edward would plan to be with her in the short term, so that the family doesn't go and turn her, but is always looking for Bella to a) change her mind about turning into a vampire b) extract himself from the situation.

And Jacob Black would be great for that. In fact, while Edward fucking hates him at first, he proves himself a worthy advisory, he's brave and noble, and Bella clearly cares deeply for him.

... Edward is suddenly Team Jacob.

Edward deep down is Team Edward, but he can't be Team Edward, because he has to leave Bella as soon as possible without turning into a vampire. But Team Jacob means Team Human means that Bella won't asked to be turned and will live a normal human life... with a shapeshifter but at least he'll be able to protect her.

I imagine Jacob has very little idea what to make of Edward. He hated this guy, still hates him but why is Edward saying, "Yes, Jacob, we must make you as appealing to Bella as possible". And leaving them alone together, on purpose, so that Jacob will have opportunities.

Jacob... doesn't want to think about weird vampires being weird.

But it all ends up being moot point.

The Volturi

Due to the lack of Volturi meeting, I imagine the Volturi do come to Seattle much faster to wipe out the vampires. If they do, and they do stop in on the Cullens just to see what's happening, then depending who visits they will find out about Bella.

And, "hm, are you turning her anytime soon?" It's clear she's very gifted, so most likely death is off the table (Jane wasn't there by herself canonically, she doesn't get to call all the shots). So, probably they're looking to take Bella back to the mothership.

Depending who's there, Bella is turned immediately. If it's Aro... he may be persuaded by Alice as he was in canon, to let it happen on its own time, or he may turn her ther himself because these people clearly aren't going to and "she should join the guard".

But most likely, Bella gets turned and kidnapped to Italy for at least a year while she's in her newborn phase. After which she's 'free to go', if she still wants to after Chelsea of course.

After that...

Well.

A lot of bloody nonsense.

[rubra-wav]

Snap (part 1) - Deception

(Part 2)

Vox brainrot entry #1.5

Follow up on entry #1

A/N he falls to bits, but they take care of him in the end, I promise. He def deserves it though. If this is bad, I apologise, I've never shown the smut I've written to anyone for feedback lmao.

Probably should have done a word counter for this - it's pretty long.

Cw: 18+ NSFW fic below cut, degradation, edging, punishment, biting, overstimulation, voyeurism, switch (but ultimately bottom) Vox, domtop! reader, AFAB reader - gn pronouns, also feat my nerd ass's knowledge of flower language lmao

Idk if there's other things I should CW in here sorry (advice/correction in comments appreciated 🙏)

- It didn't take you very long to start noticing how he seemed to know what to do perfectly; gifts, gestures, dates. Even if he always played it off as a master at lying through his toothy smile, you weren't an idiot.

- You do curse yourself that you let it slide and treated it as an afterthought for several months however. It begins to become more of a conscious thing on your mind though.

- So you bait him with something so very specific that it wouldn't ever be a consideration normally for someone trying to woo you - as he had been doing for several months at this point. After you know that he's off work, you sit on your phone scrolling and click onto a post about flowers, sprawled across your lounge lazily.

- You smile at your phone and say out to the empty room as if just casually talking to yourself. "Ooo, snapdragons." He fell for it hook line and fucking sinker.

- The next morning, there is a delivery of beautifully wrapped red snapdragons at your door with a note taped to the side of it.

- You felt a mixture of disgust, anger and betrayal rise in your chest at the confirmation that he'd been violating your privacy by looking at you secretly like some fucking stalker. You push it down though, smiling for the camera (literally) and decide that you'll confront him about it later. For now you'd just act like you didn't know he was looking at you, and later on you'd be punishing him for it.

- Your sex life with him hadn't exactly moved that far due to both of your hesitation to move to become more seriously involved, not wanting to fully ruin your friendship with one-another in case it was unrequited. Only being FWB sometimes having sex essentially. But, you decided you would be getting back at him real good for this. You would be much like the flower you had caught him out with.

***

You groaned into the mutually hungry lust-drunk kiss as your lips melded against his, tongues roughly fighting for control against the other as your back was pushed against the wall by Vox who grunted deeply against your lips.

The demon's monitor provided the only light in the house as you arrived home, it serving as the most common secret rendezvous for you two to be together like this. His claws gripping at your sides slid down your thighs to grope at them before picking you up and bringing your crotch up against his steadfast arousal.

You pulled back from the kiss with a gasp at the stimulation and wrapped your legs around his hips to grind closer into one another. "You're very quickly excited just by making out as per usual." You teased him, kissing his face where his cheek should have been.

He let out an embarrassed growl as he glared down at you, the blush on his cheeks making it not hit all that hard. "Shut the fuck up."

You laughed at him as you watched him give a sharp inhale, tensing up at the way you ground your clothed pussy into his dick. You could tell by the way that his claws dug into your hips that he intended to be in control of the situation, and you inwardly grinned in satisfaction as the plan you had been sitting on for a while was finally going to be executed.

Vox slammed his lips back onto yours as he walked to your bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot impatiently and falling forward on the mattress with you gripped against him.

He sat back to begin removing all the layers he was wearing, it taking a long time as usual as he didn't like creasing his jacket or shirt - him wanting to preserve his appearance to the world outside your doors even when his hands were shaking with anticipation of what he thinks is going to be the usual fuck session for him.

And this is where you choose to shift the power dynamic, while he's expecting you to take off your shirt and lay back, you're pouncing on him and slamming his back against the bed the second his shirt, jacket as he finishes shedding his layers.

He looks up at you with surprise as the bed squeaks under the shifted weight, and then annoyance which flickers onto his features but is quickly replaced by a strained smirk. "Haha, yeah, no. That's not how this is gonna g-" you cut him off by moving to straddle him, pressing your lips against his and rolling yourself into his hard-on again. He let out a loud groan into the kiss which teetered into a slight whine.

You could feel the way he tensed up at the embarrassingly submissive sound you'd pulled from him and he moved to try to reposition himself as being in charge again, you didn't let him however as you held him in place under you.

You rhythmically began setting the pace for the two of you, and you felt him begin to relent begrudgingly and give in to his pleasure, one claw gripping your hip as he tried to alter your pace to match his, while the other came up to grab at your chest as your tongues moved against each other in a dizzyingly hot way which added to the growing arousal you felt.

You could feel your wetness seeping uncomfortably into your underwear as Vox's erection rubbing against your cunt at just the right angle sent stabs of pleasure through your body despite your pants.

You parted momentarily to let out a soft panting moan before diving back in. Vox seemed to take this as his chance to try put you under him again, gripping both hands against your sides as he turned the two of you over again, him moving to push you firmer into the mattress but you not letting him as you flipped back the other way and pulled back to look down at him. Observing his frustrated expression and slightly parted lips which were moving as he panted excitedly.

Shaking your head, lips pouted, you shook your finger at him as if scolding a child - patronising him. "Now, now, Vox. You and I both know that this is not about to become where you inevitably fall apart on top of me. Not tonight." He tried to rise from to mattress, opening his mouth to protest at the extra mean way you were addressing him. You put a hand on his chest and pushed him back down.

"You are going to just listen to me and take it how I know you damn well enjoy it despite all the usual whining and bitching." You commanded, eyes narrowing.

Vox went light blue at the cheeks, moving once again to try and change your postions. "What the fuck has got you so damn worked up today?" He growled. You looked down at him while finally allowing the rage you've been feeling for days to seep into your voice.

"Snapdragons." You look down upon him with utter contempt, and watch as his smirk fades and confusion and a bit of fear flickers across his features at the sudden shift in your attitude. He clearly doesn't understand what you mean.

"Wha-" he asked, eyes squinting up at you.

"'Snapdragons'," you repeated, "Are what I said to myself while I was home alone, and then found on my doorstep the next morning. Or at least, when I should have been home alone." You give him an absolutely evil grin laced with anger as his face begins to recognise what you're saying and shifts to utter horror.

"N-no I just guessed truly, you know I'm too busy for that kind of thing anyways! I own Voxtek, it's a non-stop business and you know tha-!" He goes to try and immediately make the usual bullshit excuses. You don't let him as you cut him off, hands moving to grip him by the writs and pin him down to the bed.

"And," your eyes bore into his red ones. "How you'd be sweating nervously as fuck the day after I'd be giving myself some.. self love the night before, after a certain time, which I believe matches up with when you start to knock off of work." You hissed through clenched teeth.

You were ready to give more examples but didn’t have to as Vox's face turned fully purple with embarrassment. You watched in satisfaction as his excuses turned into horrified, growingly rapid spluttering nonsense as he glitched and jolted under your gaze with utter humiliation.

"I-I'm. I-! I- hf, I just- stop looking at me like that!" He let out a horrified mumble which petered off into a whine, eyes looking away but ultimately coming back to yours as you glared at him unwaveringly.

He'd never seen you this pissed off at him and it honestly scared him. The heavy feeling of self disgust set in on him as his activities which he'd been brushing off for a while now came crashing down in on him. As he looked into your eyes, feeling his wrists being gripped hard in your hands, he did something which he normally never does; apologise genuinely.

"I-I'm," he blue sceened in the middle of his sentence as humiliation made his voice crack "--orry. 'M sorry I won't ev--r do -t aga-in!" Pixelated tears had begun to form at the edges of his eyes as he allowed his embarrassment at his actions and being caught by you finally take over.

Vox hated himself for putting on such a pathetic display, but he hadn't exactly liked himself over how much he craved spying on you in general, especially in the more intimate moments he knew he particularly shouldn't have been seeing.

The burning hot anger inside of you began to dissipate slightly as you watched the way he was so openly expressing remorse for his actions, however your punishment for this shit was far from over.

You stopped glaring at him as hard, and rather fixed your face with a blank expression instead as you leaned forward towards him and gently gripped the side of his screen. "I--m -orry I'm sor-ry.." He repeatedly whined again and again. Vox sniffled loudly as he looked up at you with a somewhat hopeful expression, hoping it was enough to stave away the rage he had seen in your eyes.

"You're going to be." You said coldly as you reached downwards to begin undoing his belt. You didn't miss the way he jolted in surprise. He was going to be getting sexual punishment from you? This was certainly not something he was expecting, and he felt an extra layer of embarrassment at the excitement he felt at that prospect.

You took his dick in your hand and looked at the way it twitched with quite a bit more vigor then usual. "You're joking. Does the prospect of me punishing you over this really excite you this much? You're a filthy fucking pervert." You insulted him with a look of distaste, smirking inwardly.

"N-no no!" His eyes widened as he glitched out, voice coming out mortified.

You shook your head as you moved your face to the space in between his shoulder and neck. "Your body is much more honest than you are." You murmured, relishing the way he shivered under you as your breath fanned across his neck.

You moved your hand down to grip firmly around his dick, stroking it as your teeth sunk deep into his throat. Vox jolted under you, letting out a strained moan due to how he was tearing up before, just starting to compose himself with his guilt, embarrassment and the weight of your gaze just a minute ago.

You began tormenting the twitching and tense demon under you. You pumped his dick in your hand while kissing his neck and shoulders, leaving marks as you went, putting him in a pleasure filled haze that was dizzying to Vox.

"Shaking under me like some common fucking slut." You laughed against his skin where you pressed your lips against his chest, prompting a huff with teetered off into a moan as you sped up your hand on him.

Whatever calming down he'd been doing was undone quickly as his first climax began to approach after all the attention, coupled with the various degradation you were giving him.

He let out a loud groan coupled with words that were barely orders at this point and were much more begs. "Ugh, l-like thaat." Vox moaned, arching further into your touch as sticky precum began flowing in large amounts from the flushed head of his dick.

Just as it was obvious he was going to come the next second, you took your hand off of him and brought away any stimulation you'd been giving him all at once.

He let out a disappointed grunt at the loss of contact, looking up at you and trying to tug at your heart strings to allow him release. He could tell you weren't going to however by the way you looked at him though. He already regretted it, but it was clear you were far from satisfied.

Once again, you began kissing him.

Your lips made their way downwards, agonisingly slow to get him further uncomfortable and bothered.

Vox watched you with rapt attention as your lips left dark grey/blue hickies on his skin. For the first time in his life, it seemed the demon was truly speechless.

He knew he'd truly fucked up as bad as he probably could if he was getting this kind of treatment from you of all people. You certainly weren't some yes-man pushover, but the usual layer of sweetness covering your words and actions as you interacted with him even while pissed was gone.

Vox arched with a whine as your lips finally wrapped around his already overstimulated cock, and then began a barrage of agonisingly pleasurable, contradictory torment upon it that had him giving out broken sobs by the end of it.

You edged him again several more times, skilfully sucking on him before taking your mouth off again and again as he almost orgasmed, all the while giving him criticism each time he failed to orgasm.

By this point, Vox was well and truly crying with the overstimulation and now painful arousal he was experiencing. His ego was in tatters, and he didn't have the fucks to give about hiding his desperation at this point.

"You truly are a shameless fucking pervert." You growled against the inside of his hip as you sunk your teeth into his skin there as he came down from halted release. You relished the sound he made, a loud and glitchy whine which didn't even try to negate your insult this time.

You leaned over to once again begin sucking him off, pausing before taking him in your mouth. His claws gripped into the sheets for some kind of consolation, as he had already tried to seek comfort in gripping at your hair to pull you further onto him, and you'd swatted his hand away with a hard glare up at him.

The demon's tear filled red eyes and purple face watched you desperately above as you wrapped your lips and tongue around him once again, you looking up at him with blank contempt that shattered him inside further.

You looked down away from his crying face as you swallowed an uncomfortable amount of precum. Pulling away from Vox in the middle of abusing his dick yet again. He let out a broken sob at the loss of contact again, eyes squeezing shut hard.

At this point, he was unable to even deny how much he just wanted release and a break from the relentless harsh words you had been giving him the whole time. The rare event where Vox wasn't being as bratty as possible was truly a shocking one.

His screen at this point was mostly just flashing blue with an error message alongside his whines, which had begun to sound less humanised and more mechanical. You didn't read it fully, but it was something along the lines of: 'Remove subject Them.exe (I'm s_rry I'm sorr_ pl--e pleas_) to prevent further error.'

You hummed somewhat sympathetically as you observed the way he trembled with overwhelm; skin covered in goosebumps, sweat, and a patchwork of your bite marks and hickies. You could tell at this point you had given him enough, and anything further would just be cruel.

The rest of the road to full forgiveness for his bullshit would be outside the bedroom. He was truly wrecked at this point.

You got up and stood up on the bed over him and quickly moved to undo your pants.

The man on the bed looked at you with desperate eyes as you finally revealed your contrastingly touch starved sex.

"Please- I'm sorry, so so sorry, please, plea--, pl-eeash." Vox whined quietly, pleading with you.

You got down on your knees over him again, gripping his hand and guiding it between your thighs as you shushed him softly. "I know, I know, hon." You leaned forward and gently kissed him on his lips, trying to calm him down. "It'll be over soon."

He mumbled out relieved nonsense at the fact you weren't being so mean, and the confirmation he'd be finishing finally. Vox took up the non-verbal cue and began gently touching in between your thighs.

You moaned softly as the kiss you were sharing began to become more passionate, his claw carefully pushing inside of your neglected pussy to avoid hurting you at all.

Your hands moved to gently cup his neck as you pushed your tongue into his mouth, forcing the taste you'd been dealing with the past while. You heard him gag on the taste of his own precum, but he still didn't try to push away as his disgust melted into a throaty groan.

You pulled back from the kiss as you jolted at the feeling of him brushing his thumb over your clit. "Good boy." You praised him breathily. God that did something to him. Vox's brain had been messed up from all the torment, but the sudden praise made it feel like it was turning to mush as warmth flooded his chest intoxicatingly.

You softly laughed at the way he seemed to be so happy after hearing that, arching a brow at him. You leaned back to look down at him. "Don't think you're off the hook here. You're still a disgusting voyeur," his face fell again as more tears flowed from his eyes. "Though," you leaned forward so your lips were barely off of his screen. "I suppose you are my disgusting voyeur because I'm feeling so nice about all this." Vox let out a little relieved huff at the reassurance, relaxing again and focusing more on trying to pleasure and prepare you.

Vox leaned forward awkwardly in an effort to properly kiss your neck in a way that made you comfortable even with the way his head was shaped as he began trying to match his fingers' pace inside of you with what you usually wanted. It was very rare that he was this obviously eager to please you. Showed just how absolutely fucked up he was.

As his tongue ran over your neck, it brought up goosebumps at the strangely wet yet static electric-like sensation his tongue had. You sighed, gripping at his shoulders as you rocked your hips down on his fingers.

Vox's eyes softened with love-sickness where you couldn't see as he heard the sounds of your sighs and murmured praises, tasting the salt of the sweat on your skin and feeling your walls gripping onto his fingers with desire with a satisfied groan.

He was utterly relieved that you had started treating him better again; even though he was absolutely aware in every fibre of himself that he did deserve it and more. The fact that you hadn't broken off your strange situationship with him the second you figured it out was truly a blessing.

You prompted him to lay back into the bed again as you were prepared enough to take him. He didn't fight you as he flopped back onto the mattress, his eyes admiring the way his fingers dripped with your sticky wetness as they pulled out of you with a lewd squelching.

"You're not going to come instantly inside me." You said pointedly to him; not a request but an order. He nodded quickly as he gave you a look like he would never ever do that. You wouldn't be surprised if he did with all the attention he'd been getting despite the pause, but you hoped not.

You slithered one hand downwards to position him to slide inside of you, the other cupping the side of his face.

You let out a relieved sigh as he slid into you with little to no effort - the precum he'd been leaking for so long at this point was significant lubrication along with your own.

The pace you set was quite quick from the get go as you pressed yourself down onto him at the right angle to hit where needed to be hit inside of you.

Vox's claws moved to grip at your back with clear desperation. You let him cling onto you this time. You smirked down at him, observing the fucked out expression he was showing alongside an error message that was just showing keysmash alongside a heat warning that was displaying on the right side of his monitor, flashing climbing temperature.

You leaned forward to give him an absolutely filthy kiss, open mouthed and drooling as you two shoved your tongues into each other; both of you moaning loudly into it.

The room filled with the sounds of the two of you fucking messily, your sweaty bodies rubbing harshly against one-another creating extremely loud slapping noises alongside your moans and the whining cries of Vox who had seemingly found his voice again.

"-on't stop! Don't st -- op! Fu-cking he-ll!" Vox yelled as he dug his claws painfully into the skin of your back, likely leaving scratches. The pain of it didn't yet kick in as your own sky-high arousal and growing pleasure hit into you in hot waves that had your knees shaking as you rode him.

"Not happening- fuuck." You groaned out, voice teetering higher at the end.

Ecstacy began to climb quickly, and the rhythm eventually began to fall apart as you began slamming yourself onto his dick in a frenzy to stimulate yourself.

"This what you wanted spying upon me, huh?" You teased on top of him, observing the way he so clearly was so close to finishing from the way you were clenching around his already over stimulated cock. "Such a gooood little bitch." That sent Vox screaming over the edge with an extremely loud yell accompanied by mechanical whirring as he hit his peak.

The feeling of him filling you up was fucking heavenly as you slammed down on him one last time and arched into the claws that had dug long scratches down your back that were now weeping beads of blood in places as your orgasm overtook you.

As you panted, feeling your pleasure hit into you in waves, you watched as Vox glitched badly below you, face looking up at you with a fucked out expression that read as if he was looking at some sort of deity - before switching off under you, leaving nothing but a black screen which began flashing a 'we'll be right back' message as well as a 'critical temperature error 121 degrees' in bold red.

You cursed, getting off of him shakily and quickly walking to go get an ice pack. As mad as you were with him right now, you didn't want to actually damage him.

As you came back with the ice pack, you noticed that he'd switched back on on a very low brightness, face looking as he was sweaty as all hell and it was obvious he was still coming down from his prior release. The red number was flashing 102 now as it began climbing downwards.

You breathed a sigh of relief while shaking your head in slight annoyance. You walked over to the edge of the bed and sat on it, pressing the icepack on the side of his neck where you'd first bit him. "You're so damn dramatic." You scolded him, only half seriously insulting him.

Vox had somewhat gotten his bearings back, and he looked away in embarrassment with a sour look on his face. "Shut the fuck up." You rolled your eyes, and went to fake getting up.

"Okay, I guess I'll just leave then if you don't want me here, asshole." You snorted as you watched his bullshit crumple so fast, him looking back at you and gripping onto your wrist pleadingly.

He grumbled again when he realised you weren't serious and relaxed against you as you moved to lay on top of him. Your chin rested on his chest as you looked up at him with growing fatigue expectantly as the temperature bar quickly dropped from red to orange, and his flushed purple face began to turn the usual shade of blues he usually had.

He sighed as he somewhat seemingly struggled to say what he knew he had to. "Listen, I... I am sorry. Really. I know it was wrong, and I... won't do it again." He looked away from you with clear remorse in his exhausted voice.

You stared at him for a few seconds before nodding. "You're not off the hook yet. Tomorrow, you will tell me where the things you've been watching me through are, and I will be you-proofing them." You said very seriously.

Vox went to bite back the usual level of snark but figured he'd be bratting far too close to the sun after what you had already done. "Fine." He said enunciating the 'f' as if it took everything to say it.

You hummed in satisfaction with his answer and buried your face into his chest. Vox sighed heavily, looking at the vase full of now wilting snapdragons that had started all of this with annoyance as he loosely wrapped his hands around you.

"You're lucky I love you so much." You murmured tiredly into his skin. What.

You startled as you realised that you'd just said that out loud. Opening your eyes with a shocked expression and slowly finding Vox, whose red eyes were looking at you with equal shock.

The silence in the room was all-encompassing.

A/N If you got the metaphor, I love you so much 🙏 (hint: snapdragons mean deception)

Oh my fucking God it was like the world didn't want me to write this one. First copy get screwed into nothingness because my reception got cut due to mfs doing work on the phone towers in my area, then after I got back home and had WiFi I got absolutely killed by a migraine that would not leave me tf alone.

I got so into writing this that I physically went outside and touched grass afterwards 💀

[jillsandwhichs]

Time Crunch

Chapter 6 to RE Character x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist

Pairing: F!reader x Ada Wong

Summary: Ada is about to leave from the extraction point in 10 minutes. That gives you just enough time to say goodbye

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Partners in crime

WC: 2.1k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: This is very vanilla, sorry y'all. Hookup, making out, slight dirty talk & oral sex (You receive)

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Silence.

It felt awkward.

The two of you just shared a very steamy kiss.

Yes, the two of you have fucked before, but never on the job, you kept it strictly professional when working, it was just a code you both lived by.

But knowing she'll be gone for awhile after these final ten minutes, neither of you can hold yourselves back, especially yourself. Ada, despite her many flaws, means a lot to you. You've both formed a bond due to your similar interests in life and work, even sexual interests. Ada is a mysterious lady, but that hasn't stopped her from allowing you to at least explore her body, in which you've done quite a bit.

You've been working together for a year now, exactly a year one month ago. Ever since, you two have always chosen each other for missions. You're both reliable and make sure the other escapes, even if your guy's selfishness begins to interfere. Ada has had to save your ass more than you have had to hers but either way, you both are there for each other. Ada was much more hardened when you first met, she's softened up somewhat now.

"How long?" "How long what?" "How long will you be gone for, Ada?" You wondered, crossing your arms and walking back and forth. You'd be alone from now on. Where was she even going and why? "Just a couple of months. I have some unfinished business to attend down in China, you understand?" Ada hummed to you. Ada was leaning against the brick wall, her thin arms at her slender sides. You do understand. She has work, and sometimes work requires you to travel.

Gazing at her, you thought about the kiss you two had just exchanged. It was hot. It was erotic. Kissing for you two is the ultimate form of intimacy. You two tend to get very touchy whenever you kiss or make out, you can't help yourselves. "I hate to say it, but, It'll be difficult without you." You admitted, your tone very low, almost as if you didn't want her to catch onto what you said. "I understand. If it makes you feel better, this won't be the last time you see me. I plan to even remain in contact with you while I am overseas." Ada also admitted something.

Her words meant a lot.

It's not like she owes you that though. You two aren't in a relationship. You two hookup, it feels good, it's nice, that's it, it isn't anything more. But, it almost seems hard to avoid one another. Ada is a drug, morphine to you. You need that woman in your system at least once within the day. Just being around her causes arousal to stir up inside of you. Every single time you both finish a mission, you guys meet up and fuck. It's a ritual at this point.

You stood there, your head tilted down, your eyes glancing at the muddy ground. It had rained not to long ago. You and Ada were slightly wet from it, but it's dried up for the most part - In some places... You looked back up at Ada, she was gazing at you with a soft look. You began to amble closer to her, your heart thumping repeatedly in your chest as you did. Oddly enough, you felt nervous this singular time when approaching her. "I want you... For one last time." You whispered, your front finally pressed up against hers.

"You may have me for one final time." Ada bit her lower lip, it was tinted a darker shade of red, her lipstick was always an attraction.

You cupped her face in your hands, aggressively, yet passionately, pressing your lips against hers. Your lips moved in sync, it was rather beautiful actually. Ada's miniscule hands encased around your back, making sure you weren't going nowhere. She held you, her hands stroking your entire time. Her touch felt like a thousand suns. You'd miss it so very much. You are sure it won't be the last time you feel her - It can't be the last time.

Ada licked your lower lip, desperately wanting to taste you. She couldn't live without kissing you, kissing you with her tongue. Your mouth is a safe haven for her. Your mouth went slightly agape, and her tongue slipped into your mouth, an honest moan coming from her when she pushed it in. "Fuck." You grunted, your bodies flipping so that you were now against the cold, hard, red brick wall. Both of you are switches at the end of the day.

"I wanna taste you." Ada mumbled, her lips finally detaching from yours. You were panting, trying to catch your breath. Her seductive tone was enough to have your panties soaked and your pussy wanting her even more. Ada has a way with words.

You smiled at her, your head diving into the crook of her neck. Your lips found her sweet spot, and you took advantage of that. You pecked all along her neck, your breath sharp as you breathed in. Her scent was lovely too, she smelt like Vanilla and that was very sexy to you. Maybe she knew that because anytime you hookup, its what she smells like. It drives you crazy. "You want to taste me?" You cooed on her throat. "You know I do, honey." Ada responded truthfully.

That just made you drip more.

Adas eyes locked with yours as she moderately lowered her body until her face was at an alignment with your core, a look of need was on her face. Disbanding the eye contact, she gandered at your jeans and the buttons on them as she began to undo them, wanting you terribly now. "We have to be quick." "I know." You replied. It seriously sucks that she'll be going away for some time. You'll miss the way her firm tongue feels on your pussy.

Her lean fingers pulled your pants down with haste, your damp panties directly in her face. "I can already smell you." She sighed softly, breathing it all in. You moaned softly. You didn't know where to set your hands, she hasn't eaten you out in this position before. "My shoulders baby." She cooed, as if she could read your mind. Obliging, you placed your hands on her slender, boney shoulders; The stability will come into use later.

With your hands on her shoulders, her hands went to your panties, tearing them off of you as quickly as she could. Your soaked cunt was revealed to her alas. The cold, windy air hit you like a bullet, causing you to shiver. "I'll warm you up." She teased right before she buried her face in your cunt, her tongue profusely lapping at your wet folds. "Oh." You whimpered in surprise, shocked that she so soonly began to eat you out like it was the last time she ever would.

Maybe it is.

Your head leaned back against the wall, your hair already becoming a mess. The brick wall was cold on your rear, the texture of it wasn't the best either but you'd endure it just for this. "Fucking hell..." You panted, her tongue was going mad on you. Adas eyes were closed. It seemed as though she was channeling everything inside of her to make you feel good, which was clearly worked. Your legs already felt wobbly. You felt like you could fall at any second, you held onto her tighter.

The lewd noises that were being made only enhanced the sexual pleasure Ada was making you feel. That extraordinary pit in your stomach - The one that lets you know your orgasm is about to rush over you, was slowly yet surely taking over.

As she continued, Ada began to adjust your legs to be sat on her shoulders. You helped, shifting them and blowing out deeply as you felt the comfortability of it. It felt way better this way. You began to moan much more loudly, Adas tongue causing your muscles to tighten inside of you. It was hard not to, but you began to practically ride her face. You grinded your pussy up against her mouth. She didn't seem to mind, if anything, she reveled in it.

"Faster." She spat out, her nails digging into your plump thighs. Another thing about Ada is that she worships your body, especially your thighs. She'll stare at you and get horny. There is just something about you that does that to her.

Listening, you began to ride her face quicker. Your movements were sloppy but you didn't care, just as long as she was licking you, tasting you and making you feel pleased. "Oh Ada..." You let out a sharp breath. Your hands ran through her jet black hair, it was soft, healthy, easy to tug on - Which you did. "Right there, that's it." You whined. Her tonuge on your clit was exactly what you needed. The sensitive bud needed to be focused on.

She suctioned your clit between her lips, slurping on it. You slammed your head back, your back arching too, you were going to cum on her tonuge.

"Oh..."

Your orgasm flew over you. Suddenly, the crisp air made your nipples hard and your body to shake slightly, that was due to it mixing with your climax. You rode her face for a few more seconds and then you pulled away, pushing yourself up against the wall. You were still dripping, your wetness with the mixture of your squirt dripped onto the ground. Ada stood up, maintaining her gaze on you as she did.

Wiping her mouth as well, Ada spoke up.

"You tasted amazing." She said softly, stumbling over to you. You just giggled, your vision still felt hazy, you were a bit out of it, that's for sure. You stared at her for a moment. You wish you two could have more time together, you wonder if you have enough time to at least eat her out as well. Probably not. She's a very coordinated lady, she'll want to get out of her the second the correct time strikes the clock.

You pulled your panties up and then your pants, you rebuttoned them up too. You didn't want to look like a mess when it is time to go, your boss will be concerned. "Do you think we'll have time to-" "No. Two minutes until I must leave." Ada interrupted you. She just didn't want you to get your hopes up for disappointment. For some reason, you're upset. You don't care for Ada a whole lot as a person, you guys are simply forced to team up. That doesn't mean you don't care at all. A part of you is going to miss her.

As Ada was letting her eyes roam around as she waited patiently, you grabbed onto her, pouncing your lips onto hers. She gasped but quickly melted at the gesture. She swathed her arms around your neck, her fingers messing with your tied back hair. "This is my goodbye to you." You hummed, your tongue slithering along hers; The texture of it turned you on once again. "This is a good farewell then." She smiled into the kiss. Not your average smile though, very small and barely noticeable.

You slid your hands down her back and onto her ass, holding it in both hands. You squeezed her, a sigh coming from her. "I won't be gone too long." "A couple months is long, Ada." You stated. You found it to be too damn long. No one will suffice like Ada does. "You'll be fine." She cupped your face, her thumbs caressing both sides of your cheeks before she finally had to pull away, her watch buzzing.

"Gotta go."

Her hands were in yours. You wanted to homd onto her as long as possible but she backed and backed away slowly til eventually, your hand dropped from hers.

"So long, beautiful." She winked as she tilted her head before she randomly used her grappling hook to sail away. You could hear what seemed to be a helicopter in the distance, most likely her getaway vehicle. You stood there in silence, all that could be heard was that motor and your soft, calm breathing. All you can think about is how much things will be different. You'll either be alone or with a new partner, both options don't sound pleasant whatsoever.

You blew out a deep breath, collecting yourself.

"Time to go home." You whispered before you began to run off, the events of tonight on repeat in your head.

[furiousgoldfish]

I wrote a very pained, depressive and dark post, even maybe too dark for this blog, but I ultimately decided to publish it, just because this pain has always been invisible in me, and I want to be able to say something. If you're going to read it, there's a lot of mention of death and contemplation of suicide in it, and a lot of painful emotion. Maybe someone will resonate with it and find words to describe their own pain. I also want to note that even though every word of it is true, I am most of the time completely dissociated from this, I'm not actively thinking it, and it came out now because my parents are actively trying to find me and disrupting the life I've tried to make for myself.

What my parents did to me is worse than death, they erased me. When I escaped I didn't know who I was, I had no hope to survive, I didn't think I was worth anything, I felt ashamed to even exist. I was suicidal, i thought I'd be dead within a month even if I don't do it myself. I didn't think I had it in me to survive, to be alive, to be anything. I was a less than a ghost, I didn't even have memories to remember of who I once was because there was no warm memories, only violence, blame, guilt, shame, pain, terror. I was supposed to be a person, and they put me in a state where I knew nothing about being a person, only property and a target, it was my entire life. I was told I deserved this, I was a monster, there was never anything else that is correct to do to me, but hurt me. I thought it was my job to be endlessly harmed. They knew I was suicidal and didn't stop. The only reason I didn't kill myself was the dissociative disorder that functioned like a suicide prevention measure, I physically could not have done it because I have been split into pieces and one of the pieces prevented me from doing it. I would have died otherwise.

What would a quick violent death be compared to this? A fucking blessing. I was slowly tortured until I was willing to kill myself in order to end it. They didn't want to dirty their hands with my murder, they planned on torturing me until I did it to myself. I had an intense drive to survive despite everything, and even that was getting erased. My basic instincts were being erased by the amount of pain I was in. My personality was gone, I didn't even have a personality, it was all overwhelmed by pain and desperation to both survive and end it all, I walked trough life looking death in the face the entire time, it felt so close, so close to me, like it would claim me any second, but I had to stay stoic, calm, me staring down death had to be invisible, I couldn't let it show. It shouldn't have mattered to anyone what I was experiencing. I was torn between life and death, stuck in constant anticipation of it and it couldn't have mattered.

Take a person, any person, imagine them having a life, family, friends, interests, hobbies, desires, dreams, loved ones, support, community. Now imagine that same person isolated, everything stripped away from them, and them being hurt until they can no longer remember anything they wanted to live for. Even their basic instinct to survive is stripped frm them as pain is too large for them to be able to sustain themselves, there's no longer anything in this person's life worth living for, nothing they remember about who they were, no warm thought they can think about themselves, and they're repeatedly told they deserve this, they've wanted this. Until there's nothing of them left.

That was me, but from the start. I didn't get to experience having a life, family, loved ones, interests, dreams, community, or any of that first, I didn't get to know how it was to have any of that! From the very start it was pain and being told that this is all there is, and that I'm stupid for ever thinking there would be anything more to life, that it is in fact, only terror and death and I'm a weakling for not taking it better, everyone else is dealing with this just fine. Shame and guilt were the only traits I could have, I didn't know anything further about me. Nobody knew me because nobody saw me being abused. Nobody could know I was worthless, it had to be my private hell. I would have to live only to the point where it was decided that it was enough and I had to die, or until the point where I couldn't take it anymore and take my own life, even though I so strongly didn't want to, even that basic desire was tempered with and overwritten by pain.

Who would want a life like that? Life of not only being aware that nobody cares about you, but everyone around you is willing to inflict pain on you until you wish to die, but can't. Where crying and screaming is forbidden even when you can't breathe from the amount of pain you're in; you're not even allowed to cry out. You fight with yourself every day on how badly you want to die and why you can't, and it doesn't help, you get lost in magical thinking in order to escape from the hell you're in, but you're brutally reminded of it every time you interact with anyone, when they find you hiding under the bed and dreaming. You don't even know that you're supposed to have loved ones, be safe, be unharmed, that life is supposed to be different, that you're not alive only to be a target, that you're worth anything. You don't even know that you're supposed to have more freedom in life than to choose the manner and time of your death, this is all that's dealt to you. And now, live, see how far you can get before you die. Would anyone choose that? Would anyone decide to be born into a life like that? Wouldn't you choose not to exist at all rather than be put trough that? To be erased and then having to keep on living while thinking you in fact, deserve death, and should do it yourself, and you know if you do die, it won't matter, just like your life didn't? Because people around you regularly nearly kill you and then laugh about it like it was a funny joke? They humiliate you for how ugly you look close to death? You're scared that your last moment will be humiliation for how unseemly your corpse looks and you're hoping you'd be able to die alone, to not be berated as you're dying.

Death is nothing to me compared to this. Waiting to die is worse than death. Endless anticipation of pain is worse than death. Having everything about you erased by pain is worse. Not knowing anything about yourself except that you are incredibly shameful existence and that you need to feel guilty all of the time, is worse. Watching people around you receive care and warmth while you're stuck watching death in the face silently, pretending it's not happening, and trying to not have anyone's attention on yourself because someone noticing means more pain, more shame and guilt. It's worse. Kill me any fucking day. But this will always be worse. Every time I face the reality of my life I wish I had died in the womb, at childbirth, I wish I had died when I was 1, 2, 3, 5, 10, 12, any time before I experienced all this. It would have been so much less pain. It would have been so much easier on me.

And I've already given up on ever having a place in anyone's heart, because at this point, I don't have it in me to make people love me. I have nothing about me that is other people find worth caring for, I made peace with it. There will be no loved ones, and thats fine. But at least then I should get to live my life alone the way I want it. I should find joy in being who I found I am, and doing what I want to do. I should get to do things that give me a little bit of pleasure and enjoyment, and I should be safe, and death should no longer come knocking at my door, staring me down like I owe it something. If I can't even have that, then to hell with everything. What is the fucking point of anything if all my life is a continued slow torture until I can no longer bear it. I have nobody to bear it for, nobody would be harmed by my death. But I also don't deserve to die, because I want to live, and this should be mine. Who the fuck dares to try and take this away from me again. I want to fucking explode. If I have to make my own justice then how do I do it. I literally just want to live. And I see other people having at least that much secured for them. Why can't I at least have that much. I am seriously asking for the bare fucking minimum.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi! Do you have any tips how to not lose interest in a story and be enough interested to start/do write if? Personally I just get hyperfixated on a story idea I have, do the brainstorming, even the planning, sometimes world building and if I get serious I make lists about almost everything but never end up writing even if I have interest still, but at most cases at the point I could start writing I just loose interest and get bored of a story when I'm done figuring out what it'll be about and maybe because I don't really like thinking about the climax or the end of the story...

Hyperfixation on Planning Story, But Can't Write It

I do have some tips on rekindling your interest in your story, which I'll link below, but first I think it's worth addressing the specific issues you mentioned: that you don't like to think about the climax or end of the story.

Have you thought at all about why you feel that way? There are a few potential reasons I can think of:

1 - Your story doesn't have a conflict, so your story doesn't have a natural climax or ending. Stories revolve around conflict, or in other words a problem that needs to be solved. This problem could be in the character's heart and mind (internal conflict), in the character's situation/life/world (external conflict), or you can have both at the same time. Many stories these days have a parallel internal and external conflict. Stories are ultimately about someone (or a bunch of someones) trying to solve a problem. In order to solve that problem, they need to reach a particular goal or accomplish a particular thing. The bulk of the story will be their struggle to reach this goal as they overcome the obstacles along the way. The climax of the story is where they face down the cause of the conflict once and for all, whether that's a villain (like an evil wizard or corrupt corporation) or a force (like illness or a natural disaster) and try to solve the problem once and for all. Everything after that is the aftermath... whether they succeeded or failed, patching up their "wounds" from the "battle" (again, it doesn't have to be actual wounds or an actual battle), and settling into the post-conflict life. That's your ending.

2 - You have a conflict, but haven't figured out how it would be resolved, so the climax and ending are fuzzy. If you have a conflict but aren't sure how it would be resolved, it might help to think of the conflict as a problem that needs to be solved. For example, in The Hunger Games, the conflict was the Hunger Games Event... the problem was that Katniss volunteered to compete which put her life at risk. So the solution to the problem was to survive the event.

3 - You know what the climax and ending are, but you are enjoying the characters and world and don't want the story to end. This is one I think many writers can relate to. It can be really hard to let go of a story when you've enjoyed writing it, have gotten attached to the characters, and feel comfortable/familiar with the world. It can also be a little scary to think about diving into a whole new story. But, we do have to learn to let go of stories when they're finished and let them come to their natural conclusion. You can always go back to the world and characters, even if just for yourself, later on. It wouldn't be weird to write "fan-fiction" of your own story, and many writers turn these kinds of stories into prequels, sequels, companion series, and companion short stories that their readers enjoy, too.

Here are some tips for getting excited about your story again if you just need your motivation rekindled:

Guide: How to Rekindle Your Motivation to Write 5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes! Getting Excited About Your Story Again Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists Feeling Unmotivated with WIP

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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