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mariasont · 2 days ago

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Laced With Love - A.H

summary: while hotch is away on a case, you do nothing but shop, and when hotch insists you use his card who are you to disobey him? especially when what you buy benefits the both of you

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader spending hotch's money (it's giving sugar daddy af), so much teasing, fingering, oral fem receiving, hotch worshipping reader, some inappropriate comments made in front of morgan accidentally, they both just completely forget about dinner and don't mention so ya know my bad, dirty talk, soft dom hotchy poo

wc: 3.5k

You had a little problem.

It all started innocently enough: one coffee to-go, a quick window shop in your favorite boutique, and somehow that led to you walking out with a bag containing the most adorable pair of heels that you couldn't leave behind. Then it snowballed—another store, another bag. A perfume counter. A cute sweater that was on sale, and, well, that one really didn't count because it was practical. It was warm. Functional, even.

Okay maybe you had a big problem.

But it wasn't until your phone buzzed in your bag, pulling you out of a deep debate over whether you needed the floral dress you were holding, that you realized just how many bags were hanging off your arms.

Mr. Bossman flashed across the screen.

The name was completely ridiculous (and more than a little outdated now that he was your boyfriend), but it fit in a weird, nostalgic way. He'd been away on one of those long-distance cases, the kind where you weren't needed, and you'd been counting the days (and minutes) until he'd call.

You grabbed your phone so fast you almost dropped the dress.

"Hi!" you answered, a little too quickly, your voice so giddy and sugar-sweet it could've given you a toothache. He always teased you for it, but right now you didn't care.

"Hi." His voice was warm, a little rough around the edges with exhaustion. "Just wanted to call and let you know I'll be home tonight."

Your heart practically leapt at his words. "Really? Finally! I thought I was going to shrivel up and die from boredom without you here. Okay, maybe not die, but like... what's the point of anything if you're not home to tell me I bought too many candles?"

"I'm not sure how you've lasted this long," he said. "Should I be worried about the state of the house? Or your bank account?"

"First of all, rude. Second of all, if you are so worried, maybe you shouldn't leave me alone for that long. Ever thought of that, Mr?"

His laugh came through the line, short and deep, and it hit you square in the chest. You closed your eyes, leaning into the sound like it could somehow bring him closer. You could see him so clearly--the way his face softened in a way that made him look ten years younger, the way his shoulders would drop, the way his eyes would crinkle. You missed him so much it hurt.

"Poor thing," he teased, still chuckling softly. "What's a girl to do when I'm not there entertain her? Besides spend my money, I mean."

"Don't worry, Aaron, your money is perfectly safe. My super respectable paycheck—you know, the one you sign—is covering me today."

"Hmm," he said, his voice still muffled. "Sounds like your boss is paying you too much."

"I don't know... I think you're getting a pretty good deal considering I keep you very taken care of. Would you like me to prove it later?"

"Hotch, tell me I did not just hear that."

You froze mid-breath, your hand flying to cover your mouth as a wave of heat rushed to your cheeks. That was Morgan’s voice. Morgan. You felt like a cartoon character with steam pouring out of your ears as your face burned red hot.

A nervous little squeak escaped you just as you heard Aaron fumbling with the phone, his voice clipped as he said something you couldn’t quite make out. There was a muffled shuffle, the sound of a door shutting, and finally, the blessed beep that meant he’d taken you off speaker.

"Christ, honey."

You peeked through your fingers, cheeks still burning as you tried to decide if you should laugh, cry, or maybe just dig yourself a hole and live there forever.

"So," you said, hesitating for a beat, "scale of one to ten, how dead am I? Should I preemptively file an HR complaint against myself, or just let Morgan handle my inevitable downfall?”

You heard him exhale sharply, the creak of a chair following as you pictured him leaning back with that half-smile he always gave when he was equal parts amused and exasperated.

“It’s fine. It’s a little embarrassing, sure. But nothing Morgan hasn’t done to himself ten times worse. He’ll give you a hard time for a day or so, Garcia will laugh, and then they’ll let it go.”

There was brief pause, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “That being said, maybe think twice before making explicit promises while I’m at work, honey.”

You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to the shopping bag in your hand as you toyed with the strap absentmindedly.

"I mean, it's only fair I keep my promise now," you said softly, barely loud enough for him to hear. "It's the least I can do."

You heard a faint sound in the background—maybe him clearing his throat—before his voice dropped an octave. "You're already on thin ice today. Don’t make promises you can’t deliver on."

You let out a little huff, batting your lashes instinctively even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

"I don't know why you're doubting me, Mr. Hotchner. You should know I'm very serious about keeping my promises."

"You know, you're not making this easy on me, " Aaron muttered, his voice low and gruff. You could hear a faint groan, followed by what sounded like pacing on the other end. "Alright, I've really got to go now. Behave yourself. And how about you use my card for the rest of the shopping trip?"

"No, Aaron, I can't!" you said quickly, shaking your head as if he could see you. "You'd never trust me again with your card after the damage I'd do. Besides, you're already going to be shaking your head when you see what I got with my own money."

Aaron sighed, his voice going into that low, authoritative tone that always made your stomach flip.

"You will use the card." There was no room for argument in his words. "I want you to. End of discussion."

And just like that, the call ended with a click. You stared at the screen for a moment as if it might magically reopen the call so could argue your case one more time. But, of course, that didn't happen.

He’d told you to use his card—he demanded it, actually—but your fingers still hesitated, clutching the little piece of plastic like it was about to bite you.

You glanced at the white lace lingerie folded neatly on the counter, the delicate fabric practically winking at you. It wasn’t just pretty—it was the kind of perfect that made your heart flutter. Normally, you’d talk yourself out of something so indulgent, but this time? Well, Aaron had practically begged you to buy something… and you couldn’t think of a better way to treat both of you.

You only hesitated for the briefest moment before swiping his card, your heart doing a little flip as the cashier folded the lingerie into tissue paper with careful hands. It felt like a tiny secret between you and Aaron—a very fun secret.

By the time you got home, the sun had started to dip below the horizon, and you knew you had some time before Aaron made it back. He always gave you a pretty reliable ETA. It was the perks of dating someone so anal.

You lugged your shopping bags up to the bedroom, your arms aching a little, but in the best way possible. Once in the bedroom, you started unpacking everything like it was Christmas morning. Dresses went in the closet, shoes were lined up neatly, and you stashed the receipts in the nightstand just in case Aaron did ask how much damage you'd done.

Then you pulled out the piece—the one you'd bought with him in mind. The silk felt decadent under your fingertips, and the delicate lace was almost too beautiful to wear. Almost. It fit like a glove, hugging every inch of you like it had been tailored specifically for this moment.

Feeling pleased with yourself, you made your way to the kitchen and slipped into your favorite frilly apron, tying the bow neatly at the back. Cooking wasn’t exactly your specialty, but you were determined to make this work. Pasta seemed foolproof enough (right?), and you threw together a salad and garlic bread for good measure. By some miracle, nothing caught on fire, and the kitchen actually smelled amazing.

You found yourself glancing at the clock every few minutes. When you finally heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, you glanced over your shoulder, heart skipping a beat.

"Hi honey!" you called sweetly, pretending as if standing in the kitchen wearing practically nothing was the most common thing in the world.

Aaron stepped inside, the door clicking behind him, but the second his eyes landed on you, he froze. His tie was loosened, his sleeves slightly wrinkled, and his hair looked like he’d run his fingers through it at least a dozen times today. But none of that mattered now—he stood there like he’d forgotten how to breathe, his dark eyes drinking you in.

You smiled at him, slow and innocent, brushing your hands lightly against the counter. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Sweetheart..." His voice was deeper than usual, strained and almost ragged, like he was trying to pull himself together and failing miserably.

"Yes?" you replied, acting as if you didn’t notice the way his eyes were glued to you while you turned off the burner and set the pan aside.

"What..." He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as his gaze dragged down your body, lingering shamelessly on the curve of your ass. "What are you wearing?"

You turned to face him fully, the delicate lace tugging just slightly as you moved, drawing his eyes lower without him even realizing it.

"Oh this?" you said, gesturing vaguely to the piece. "It's just something I picked up today. You told me to use your card, so I thought I'd get something you'd like."

His jaw tightened, eyes scanning you slowly before lingering on the pink bows peeking out over the apron. "You used my card on this?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, your hands gliding down the soft lace as you took a step closer, looking up at him through your lashes. "I figured it was an investment. You know, for both of us."

Aaron groaned, low and frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose for a brief second before letting his hand drop.

“Using my card for this…” His voice was rough as he closed the space between you in one long stride, his hands landing on your waist and pulling you flush against him. His lips curved into the faintest smirk as his voice dipped lower. “Was the one thing you’ve done right today. Now take this off—slowly, sweetheart—and let me see exactly what I bought.”

He pinched at the bow on your apron, his fingers tugging lightly, but you stepped back just enough to be out of his immediate reach.

“If you were that eager to see what I bought,” you teased, your fingertips grazing one of the straps of the apron, “maybe you shouldn’t have left me waiting so long.”

You slipped one strap off your shoulder, letting it fall halfway, then paused, tilting your head slightly as if daring him to come closer.

"Trying on pretty things, waiting for me to come home—must've been absolutely draining," Aaron shook his head slowly.

You pouted at him, pushing your bottom lip out just enough to make his eyes soften. He chuckled quietly, stepping closer until his hands braced the counter on either side of you, caging you in.

"But you know what? I missed you too. And seeing you like this... makes being away feel like torture."

Your pout melted into a glowing smile as your hands found their way to his chest, your fingers brushing lightly over his shirt.

“You mean it? You really missed me?”

"Of course I did." His hands cupped your jaw gently, his thumbs brushing along your cheeks as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real. His other hand moved slowly to the bow at your waist, pulling the knot loose with an easy tug. "Now, angel, let me see what else I've been missing."

The apron slipped to the ground, forgotten, as Aaron’s eyes locked onto you. He blinked once, then twice, his expression unreadable except for the slight parting of his lips, like he’d been robbed of air.

His gaze traveled over you like a slow caress, taking in the way the lace hugged your curves, teasing him with everything it didn’t quite cover. His eyes lingered on your chest, where the sheer fabric exposed the peaks of your nipples, and you caught the subtle hitch in his breath as he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching slightly.

You tilted your head, letting your expression soften into something sweetly innocent as you leaned back against the counter. The lace shifted with the movement, exposing just enough to make his jaw tighten. Then, just for a second, you parted your legs, catching his sharp inhale as you gave him a soft, almost shy smile.

When he realized what wasn't under the lace, his eyes snapped back up to yours. Without a word, he dropped to his knees, hands sliding over your thighs until they rested just above your knees.

A soft gasp escaped your lips, heart skipping several beats as you stared down at him. You hadn't expected this. Not the way his knees hit the floor like it was second nature, not the way his palms spread wide against your skin, thumb brushing over the curve of your inner thighs as he looked up to you.

He must be exhausted, that was your only explanation. But then his hands pressed harder into your thighs, and the thought evaporated. His eyes weren't clouded with exhaustion—they were focused, like he was memorizing every inch of you.

Your stomach twisted sharply, your legs suddenly feeling like they couldn’t hold you upright anymore. He was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. That singular thought settled in your chest, blooming like a flower, before curling low in your belly, leaving you breathless.

His lips grazed your thigh in the softest of touches, like he was savoring the moment. Slowly, he pressed another kiss, firmer this time, his fingers tightening around your thighs as his grip became more insistent. He kissed you again, higher and slower, his nose grazing your skin, breath fanning over you. A deep, contented hum rumbled from his chest.

"What have I done," he murmured, his voice rasping like the words have been pulled from his chest, "to deserve this? To deserve you?"

His eyes flickered up to meet yours. "Tell me, angel, because I'd do it a hundred times over if it meant to have you like this."

You wanted to tell him everything—the depth of your love, how he made you feel like the luckiest person alive—but the words lodged in your throat.

"Aaron... I... you're just..." you stammered, voice trembling as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter.

Before you could gather your thoughts, he lifted one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder, fingers digging into your skin. His lips brushed higher, dangerously close to your exposed cunt, and a soft, broken sound escaped you.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration shooting straight through you.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" His breath was hot against your thigh. "You always have so much to say. Don’t tell me you’re out of words already. I haven’t even started.”

"I was going to tell you how—oh, gosh, Aaron—"

Your words you had been trying to string together scattered completely, replaced by a shaky moan as his mouth pressed firmly against your clit. Your breathing stuttered, your chest rising and falling as waves of pleasure coursed through you, drowning out every thought but him.

His mouth was everywhere—warm, insistent, and impossibly skilled as his tongue traced over your clit with maddening precision. He worked like a man possessed, drawing sounds from you that you didn't even know you were capable of making. He was too good at this—too good at knowing exactly where and how to touch you, too good at making you fall apart with just his mouth.

Then he shifted, his hand gripping your other thigh as he lifted your second leg over his shoulder, leaving you completely at his mercy. The sound you made was somewhere between a gasp and a moan, your hands flying to his hair as your head tipped back.

Your back pressed against the edge of the counter awkwardly, a dull ache building in your lower spine, but it was nothing compared to the torrent of pleasure radiating through you. His tongue moved in devastating accuracy, his hands gripping your thighs like he was gluing you to himself. Your chest moved in shaky breaths, his name slipping from your lips in trembling cries that you couldn’t hold back.

"If I'd known this would be my reward," you gasped, tugging hard at his hair, your words faltering as your head tipped back. "I'd have emptied your whole wallet—oh, fuck—“

His lips closed firmly around your clit, pulling firmly in a way that destroyed your sentence completely. His hands tightened on your thighs, keeping you locked exactly where he wanted you.

"You must really mean it if you're cursing now." His tongue flicked over you again, making your back arch sharply. "Didn’t know you had that in you... let’s see what else I can get you to say, angel."

A warm flush spread up your neck and into your cheeks, heat rising faster than you could control. "I didn't mean to--"

You were cut off once again as his finger slid into your pussy. Any trace of embarrassment was gone, swept away by the overwhelming need pooling deep in your core, leaving nothing but raw desire in its place.

The pressure, coiling low in your stomach, was building so fast you could barely keep up with it. Every tell-tale sign was there—the trembling of your thighs, the way your chest shuddered in shallow breaths, and most incriminating of all, the words spilling from your lips before you could even think about them.

"I love you," you gasp, the desperation clear as ever. "I love you so much, I love you—Aaron, oh—"

He groaned against your clit, his tongue pressing hard as though your words were the fuel he needed to pull you apart completely. His finger curled again, hitting that spot that made you vision blur. His eyes flicked up, and you could tell he knew exactly what was happening. He always knew.

"I know, angel," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. "Now show me just how much."

Your orgasm hit you with staggering intensity, a wave of heat and pleasure crashing through you that left every inch of your body trembling. Your breath came in uneven, stuttering gasps as his name spilled from your lips, over and over, like a mantra you couldn’t stop repeating.

"That's my girl," Aaron murmured, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin as his finger worked you through the waves.

His lips pressed on last kiss to your thigh before he straightened, his hands immediately wrapping around your waist like he predicted you'd collapse without him. As soon as he lifted you, you clung to him like your life depended on it (and in that moment you were sure it did), your arms winding around his neck.

Everything felt distant, like you were floating somewhere above yourself. Your head rested limply on his shoulder, your lips brushing against the side of his neck. Your fingers curled weakly against the fabric of his shirt, and for a fleeting moment, you weren’t even sure your body had substance anymore—you felt soft, boneless, entirely his.

Aaron tapped the back of your thigh gently. "Come on, sweetheart, up."

You tried—really, you did—but your body wasn't cooperating. Your legs dangled uselessly, and you let out a soft, half-laugh, half-whisper. "Can't."

He huffed a quiet laugh.

"Hopeless," he teased. He hoisted you up before you could process it, his shoulder pressing into your stomach as he flipped you over it. A surprised squeak escaped you, but his hand was already bracing your thigh as he started up the stairs. "I guess I'll just have to do all the work, as usual."

"You're so strong," you mumbled dreamily, your head lolling against his shoulder. "Like... disgustingly strong. It’s so hot."

Aaron laughed, his hand smacking your ass. "Keep talking like that, sweetheart and I'll start using you for my next workout routine. And I guarantee it'll be something you'll feel tomorrow."

"Mr. Hotchner!" you gasped, your voice half-indignant and half-giggling. "And you act like I’m the inappropriate one in this relationship!"

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head as he carried you into the bedroom. He lowered you down, tossing you onto the bed just hard enough to make you bounce lightly against the mattress. You let out a soft laugh, body sinking into the covers as you looked up at him.

“The difference is, I have the good sense not to say things like that on speakerphone.”

You let out a small laugh, raising your eyebrows. “And you should have the good sense not to trust me on speakerphone. Really, Aaron, rookie move.”

He stood tall at the edge of the bed, his fingers slowly loosening the top button of his shirt as he tilted his head. "“That’s fine. We’ll call it even—after you make good on that promise."

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pbaz7 · 24 hours ago

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ONE SHOT: IN HER ORBIT PT.2

paige x azzi

warning: drinking, smoking, sexual content!!!

word count: 13.7

A/N: I’m so sorry this took me all night to post 😭 everything got turned around but here we are!! This is literally just for all you whores that requested a part 2. This is NEVER happening again so I hope yall enjoy it 😒. I combined a few different part 2 requests into this. Leave live reacts and comments if you can!!

—————————————————————————

The room was quiet, only the occasional murmur of voices and faint music coming from Paige’s phone filled the space. They were sprawled on her bed, the soft glow of sunlight spilling through the curtains. Azzi was lying across Paige’s chest, her head tucked beneath Paige’s chin as she scrolled aimlessly through social media. Paige held the phone just above them, tilting it slightly so they could both see the screen.

Every so often, Azzi would chime in with a comment or swipe her finger across the screen when Paige skipped something she wanted to see. Paige didn’t mind—for the most part. But Azzi’s habit of rewinding videos or insisting on watching long ones tested her patience.

"Seriously?" Paige groaned as Azzi scrolled back to replay a video. "This one’s like two minutes long. I don’t care about that stupid trend."

Azzi barely glanced up, muttering, "Shhh, it’s funny."

Paige rolled her eyes dramatically and, with a sigh, tossed her phone toward the foot of the bed. It landed with a soft thud against the blanket. "There. Problem solved."

Azzi gasped in betrayal, twisting to look at the abandoned phone. "Paige!"

"Too boring," Paige declared with a smirk, cutting off whatever protest Azzi was about to make by grabbing her hips and pulling her up so she was straddling Paige’s waist. "This is more entertaining."

Azzi laughed, her hands automatically finding balance against Paige’s stomach. "You’re annoying, you know that?"

Paige tilted her head, feigning offense. "That’s not what you were saying this morning."

Azzi groaned, her cheeks flushing faintly as she rolled her eyes. "Oh, my God. Can you not?" She leaned back slightly, preparing to climb off Paige to grab the phone, but Paige’s hands tightened on her hips, keeping her in place.

Azzi gave her a playful glare. "What?"

"You gotta give me a kiss for calling me annoying," Paige said matter-of-factly.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Since when is that a rule?"

Paige grinned. "Since you started calling me annoying every two seconds. I gotta get something out of it."

Azzi shook her head, biting back a laugh. "You’re actually ridiculous." But there was no real protest in her voice as she leaned down, cupping Paige’s face with both hands. Her lips brushed softly against Paige’s, lingering for just a moment before she started to pull away.

Paige had other plans. Her arms wrapped tightly around Azzi’s waist, locking her in place and deepening the kiss before she could get too far. Azzi’s initial surprise melted quickly as she relaxed into it, her hands sliding from Paige’s cheeks to her shoulders. What started as teasing grew into something warmer, their breaths mingling as they fell into their familiar rhythm.

A sharp knock on the door broke the moment, making Azzi jolt slightly as she pulled back. She turned her head toward the sound, her hair brushing Paige’s face.

"Come in!" Paige called lazily, her arms still secure around Azzi.

Azzi gave her an incredulous look, her lips parting in disbelief. "Seriously? You didn’t even ask who it was."

Before Paige could respond, the door swung open, and Nika strolled in, completely unbothered by the scene in front of her. She plopped onto the bean bag in the corner of the room, stretching her legs out with a dramatic sigh.

"Y’all coming out tonight?" Nika asked casually, as if Paige and Azzi weren’t tangled up on the bed.

Paige arched an eyebrow, her head still pressed into the pillow. "Where?" she asked, glancing at Nika with mild curiosity.

"Football team’s throwing a party," Nika said, leaning her head back against the wall.

Paige tilted her chin up to look at Azzi, silently deferring to her. "What you think?" she asked, her hands still resting comfortably on Azzi's hips.

Azzi shrugged, clearly indifferent at first. "Who’s going?" she asked, looking to Nika for specifics.

"I think most of the team, to be honest," Nika replied, her tone nonchalant as she scrolled on her phone.

Azzi’s lips quirked into a small smile as she nodded. "Yeah I’m down."

Paige smirked, amused. "You’ve been into parties lately," she teased, her fingers lightly tracing circles on Azzi’s side.

Azzi shrugged again, her confidence now a natural part of her demeanor. "Maybe I just like them better now," she said, glancing at Paige with smile.

Nika groaned as she stood, arching her back like she’d been sitting for hours. "Man, I need to stretch more during the offseason," she complained, rubbing her shoulder.

Paige and Azzi both looked over and laughed as Nika shuffled toward the door.

"You two lovebirds better not bail," Nika added, pointing a finger at them before stepping out.

Paige let out a laugh, tightening her hold on Azzi. "Lovebirds, huh?" she teased.

Azzi rolled her eyes but smiled, leaning down just enough to bump her forehead lightly against Paige’s. "She’s not wrong," she whispered.

Paige grinned, her eyes lighting up as she looked at her. "Well, guess we’re going to a party," she said, the excitement subtly creeping into her voice.

Azzi sat up a little, brushing her hair back as she glanced toward the door. "Guess we are," she agreed.

Paige, not liking the space between them, pulled Azzi back down for a kiss. Her hands found their way to Azzi’s waist, holding her securely as she deepened the kiss, her lips moving slowly in a way that made Azzi melt.

Azzi tangled her fingers in Paige’s hair as she shifted her weight, rolling her hips into Paige slowly. Paige let out a low hum of approval, her grip tightening just enough to show how much she was enjoying this.

Azzi let her lips trail down Paige’s jaw, leaving soft kisses along the way. Paige tipped her head back slightly, giving her better access, her breath hitching softly.

But just as things were heating up, Azzi stopped, sitting up and pulling away. Paige blinked at her, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "What the hell baby?" she protested, her voice almost a whine.

Azzi laughed as she slid off the bed. "If we’re going out, I need to go get ready," she said, throwing her hair into a messy bun as she grabbed one of Paige’s hoodies.

Paige propped herself up on her elbows, giving Azzi a look. "Why you gotta get ready? Just wear my clothes," she said, her tone half-serious.

Azzi wrinkled her nose playfully. "Your clothes have too much fabric," she shot back, smirking.

Paige narrowed her eyes at her, a grin spreading across her face. "Who you trying to show all that skin for, hm?" she asked teasing Azzi slightly.

Azzi leaned down, resting her hands on either side of Paige’s hips as she got close enough for their noses to almost touch. "My girlfriend," she murmured, her voice soft. She let the words hang in the air for a moment before adding with a smile, "Who will be drunk tonight."

Paige’s eyes lit up at Azzi’s comment, her grin growing wider. "Oh, really?" she asked, clearly liking the sound of it. She tilted her head slightly, curiosity flashing in her eyes. "What’s the occasion?"

Azzi paused for a moment, licking her lips as she leaned over Paige, her face just inches from hers. "Why does there need to be an occasion?" she replied smoothly.

Paige hummed softly, her response more of a distracted sound than actual words. Her gaze was fixed entirely on Azzi, completely captivated by the way her brown eyes seemed to glint and the way her lips curled into a confident smirk.

Azzi, reveling in the effect she had on Paige, let her smile grow. "I like when you’re drunk," she added, her tone carrying some playfulness.

Paige blinked, snapping out of her trance just enough to ask, "Why?"

Azzi shrugged, feigning nonchalance, though the real reason sat clearly in her mind. Drunk Paige was different—much bolder with her, less restrained. When she wasn’t drunk, Paige’s affection for her sometimes overshadowed her desire. She was sweet, loving, and almost careful, like Azzi was something fragile she needed to protect. But when Paige was drunk, there was no hesitation. She was confident, and completely unfiltered in showing it. Drunk Paige had no problem pulling her close in public, leaving lingering touches that sent sparks down Azzi’s spine, and when they got home...Well, Paige couldn’t keep her hands off her, and Azzi loved every second of it.

But she didn’t say any of that, instead she just leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Paige’s lips. It was just enough to leave her wanting more before Azzi pulled back, standing up straight.

"I’ll let you figure that one out pretty," Azzi teased, her smirk in place as she turned toward the door.

Paige laid there for a moment, her eyes wide as she watched Azzi head for the door. "You’re so annoying," she muttered under her breath, though there wasn’t even a hint of malice in her tone—only warmth.

Azzi glanced back over her shoulder, giving Paige a knowing look. "I love you too," she said, blowing Paige a playful kiss before slipping out of the room.

Paige exhaled deeply as the door clicked shut, her heart racing a little faster than before. A grin spread across her face as she stared at the ceiling, her mind already racing with thoughts of Azzi.

…

Later that day in their suite, Nika was perched in front of the mirror, carefully applying her makeup. Meanwhile, Paige was laid out on Nika’s bed, tossing a basketball into the air and catching it repeatedly. Her movements were lazy but precise, the ball spinning just enough to keep her entertained.

"Just so you know," Paige randomly said, her voice casual, "I’m definitely getting you back for keeping me up all night the other day."

Nika glanced at her through the mirror, an eyebrow raised as she laughed. "Yeah, right," she said dismissively, brushing some highlighter over her cheekbone.

Paige stopped mid-toss, the ball still in her hand as she sat up slightly, her eyes narrowing. She never liked when people implied she couldn’t do something. "Why you say that like I can’t?" she challenged, sitting up fully now, the ball forgotten as it rolled onto the bed beside her.

Nika turned to look at Paige, her smile growing. "I mean, Azzi’s loud, sure, but she’s not that loud," she said, waving her hand for emphasis. "She wouldn’t do all that."

Paige’s expression shifted her lips twitching into a smirk. "How much you wanna bet?" she asked.

At that, Nika’s ears perked up. There was nothing she loved more than a good bet, especially one she thought she could win. She spun her chair around to face Paige fully, crossing her arms. "You’re tryna bet?"

Paige leaned back on her hands. "Yeah. Let’s bet."

Nika squinted at her, skeptical but intrigued. Paige always had this unwavering confidence, and it annoyed Nika how often it paid off for her. But this time? She was sure she had it in the bag. Azzi, while always confident in herself these days, was way more reserved about their sex life than Paige. She wasn’t shy, exactly, but Nika just couldn’t imagine her being that carefree, especially with most of the team sharing the suite.

Nika grinned. "Alright, bet. What’s the wager?"

Paige thought for a moment before leaning forward. "$200."

Nika snorted. "Okay, fine. But if I win, you owe me double. You got deeper pockets."

Paige rolled her eyes but nodded. "Alright whatever."

They shook on it, and Nika leaned back with a grin. "This about to be the easiest bet I’ve ever won," she said, turning back to the mirror to finish her makeup.

Paige chuckled to herself, leaning back against the headboard, her arms crossed behind her head. "You're delusional," she said under her breath, already planning how she was going to make this bet easy for herself.

In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but grin at the thought of how easy it would be to prove Nika wrong—because if there was one thing Paige knew, it was how to get Azzi to let go of her inhibitions.

…

When Nika was finally ready, the two of them headed out. Paige had decided not to put too much effort into her appearance, opting for the casual look she knew Azzi loved so much. She wore a black Nike tech—the sweatpants hanging slightly loose on purpose—and kept the jacket open to reveal the white t-shirt and her silver chain underneath. It was simple, but the way Paige carried herself made it anything but plain.

When they got to the party, the music was loud, and the room was packed. Paige’s eyes scanned the crowd, easily zeroing in on her girlfriend. She was standing near the makeshift bar in the kitchen, talking with a couple of their teammates, a drink in her hand. Paige couldn’t help but let her eyes linger over her body.

Azzi was effortlessly captivating. She wore short jean shorts that hugged her in all the right places, showing off her long toned legs; they were paired with a black long-sleeved crop top that showed her entire stomach, only falling low enough to cover her chest. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, small curly strands left out in the front that fell in front of her perfect face.

Paige crossed the room, slipping through the crowd until she was behind Azzi. She didn’t announce herself—didn’t really need to. Instead, she stepped up close, wrapping her arms around Azzi’s waist and pulling her back against her.

Azzi froze for a moment, her body stiffening at the unexpected touch being under the impression that Paige wasn’t there. But then she caught the familiar scent of Paige. Her muscles relaxed almost instantly, and she let out a soft laugh as she leaned back into Paige’s hold.

“Hey pretty,” Paige whispered, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear.

Azzi tilted her head slightly, glancing back at Paige. “Hi baby,” she murmured, her lips forming into a smile. “I didn’t even know you were here.”

“I move quiet when I want to,” Paige replied, her arms tightening briefly around Azzi before resting her chin on Azzi’s shoulder. She glanced down at what Azzi was wearing, a slow smile spreading across her face. “You look amazing.”

Azzi hummed, reaching a hand down to rest over Paige’s. “Mmm you don’t look too bad yourself,” she teased, leaning into Paige’s familiar presence.

From across the room, Aaliyah groaned loudly, making no effort to hide her exasperation. “God, can y’all not do this in public? Like, at least give the rest of us a chance to have fun without feeling single as hell!”

Paige turned her head slightly, grinning at Aaliyah. “Then stop looking,” she shot back, looking completely unbothered.

Azzi laughed softly, turning in Paige’s arms so she could face her. Her hands came up to rest lightly on Paige’s chest, her smile teasing but warm. “You’re mean sometimes, you know that?”

Paige grinned wider, her fingers tracing light patterns along Azzi’s sides. “No I’m not. Imma angel,” she countered smoothly.

Azzi rolled her eyes, but there was no real irritation behind it. “Yeah, yeah,” she said with a laugh, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Paige’s lips before pulling back and wiping her lip gloss off of her.

Paige shifted her hold on Azzi, her fingers trailing lazily along her sides as the party hummed around them. Leaning in closer, Paige tilted her head, her lips hovering just by Azzi’s ear. “So, how drunk are we getting tonight?” she asked.

Azzi’s lips curved into a smile, her gaze flicking to Paige’s before she licked her lips. “Drunk enough,” she answered simply.

Paige raised an eyebrow at that, her curiosity piqued. “Enough?” she repeated, leaning back slightly to study Azzi’s expression. “Why do I feel like you tryna get me drunk?”

Azzi tilted her head, her smile widening as she hooked her fingers around Paige’s wrists, guiding her hands to rest on the warm, exposed skin just above her hips. Paige smirked at the contact, her thumbs instinctively brushing over Azzi’s soft skin.

Azzi leaned in closer, her lips barely an inch from Paige’s as she spoke. “Because drunk Paige…” she started, pausing as her eyes darted to Paige’s lips before meeting her gaze again, “…is fun Paige.”

Paige’s jaw clenched slightly, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as Azzi’s words settled over her. Her grip on Azzi’s waist tightened instinctively, her fingertips pressing into her skin. “Fun Paige, huh?” Paige echoed.

Azzi nodded slowly, her smile never faltering. “Mhm,” she murmured, tilting her head as her hands slid up Paige’s chest and rested lightly on her shoulders. “You’re usually so… composed,” she continued. “But when you’ve had a few drinks, you don’t hold back. You’re all over me—” her voice dipped, “—and I like that a lot.”

Paige’s lips parted, her gaze flicking between Azzi’s eyes and her mouth, her restraint already thinning as the heat between them grew. “You like that?” she murmured, her thumbs continuing their slow, strokes against Azzi’s skin.

Azzi hummed in agreement, her smile softening but never losing its edge. “I love it,” she corrected, her hands slipping down to cover Paige’s, keeping them firmly in place on her waist.

Paige leaned in further, her forehead almost touching Azzi’s, “Keep talking like that, and I won’t need a drink.”

Azzi smiled at Paige’s tone, but before she could respond, someone shouted nearby, pulling them out of their bubble. Paige groaned under her breath, resting her forehead briefly against Azzi’s shoulder before straightening up.

Azzi laughed softly, trailing her hands up and down Paige’s arms. “Patience, P,” she teased.

Paige huffed. “I’m not patient when it comes to you,” she admitted, her voice dropping slightly as she pulled Azzi just a fraction closer.

Azzi’s smile softened, a knowing look crossing her face. “I know baby,” she said simply. Without giving Paige a chance to respond, Azzi leaned in and kissed her, her lips soft and warm, stealing away any remark Paige might’ve had.

Just as Paige was about to deepen the kiss, Azzi pulled back, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear as she murmured, “Stay right here.” She stepped away, and Paige’s hands reluctantly slipped from her waist.

Paige watched, her gaze glued to Azzi as she made her way to the drink table, her every move effortlessly commanding people's attention. Azzi grabbed two shot cups, filling them quickly before pouring a third. She returned moments later, pressing one of the cups into Paige’s hand while holding the other two herself.

“For me?” Paige asked, her eyebrow raised in playful suspicion as she glanced at the two cups Azzi held.

Azzi grinned, raising one in a small toast. “For both of us,” she said, tipping her head back and downing the first shot before Paige could reply.

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re crazy,” she muttered, lifting her own cup. They hit them together, Paige knocking hers back as Azzi took her second.

Azzi wiped her lips with finger and grabbed Paige’s hand, pulling her gently toward the crowd. “Come on,” she said, her smile carefree, her fingers lacing loosely with Paige’s.

Paige followed willingly, her body already buzzing—not just from the few shots she took before the party but from Azzi’s touch, her energy. "Lead the way," she said, her eyes fixed on Azzi like no one else existed.

…

Azzi and Paige spent the first half of the party with their team, fully immersed in the usual chaos of drinking games, jokes, and back and forth. Paige had her arm slung casually around Azzi’s waist or shoulders for most of it, but as the night wore on and the alcohol started to hit harder, the two of them began to drift into their own world—a familiar pattern by now.

The team noticed it too, exchanging knowing glances but not saying much. They’d seen this before and weren’t about to interfere. By unspoken agreement, they let the two go.

Paige, now drunk and far less reserved than usual, was doing exactly what Azzi thought she would. She was all over her—hands lingering on Azzi’s waist or hips, pulling her closer whenever she got the chance. Her lips hovered close to Azzi’s ear, murmuring things only Azzi could hear.

Azzi didn’t mind. In fact, she reveled in it. The way Paige was so unapologetically into her, even in front of everyone, made her feel a kind of warmth she hadn’t realized she craved. She leaned into Paige’s touch, letting herself be pulled into her orbit completely.

At one point, Paige brushed her knuckles lightly along Azzi’s jaw, her lips curving into a smirk. “You were right, y’know,” she whispered.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress the smile tugging at her lips. “About what?”

“About me when I’m drunk,” Paige murmured, leaning in so close that Azzi could feel her breath against her skin. “I really can’t keep my hands off you.”

Azzi laughed softly, her cheeks warming, and turned to face Paige fully. “I noticed,” she said, as she slid her hands up Paige’s chest, hooking her fingers lightly around Paige’s chain.

Paige tilted her head, her eyes dark as her hands rested firmly on Azzi’s waist. “What can I say? You make it hard to behave.”

Azzi shook her head, biting her lip as she laughed. “You’re ridiculous baby.” But there was no mistaking the way her eyes lingered on Paige, full of affection.

Paige grinned, leaning in again, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “You love it.”

And she did. She really, really did.

Right now, they were sitting on the couch, Azzi perched comfortably in Paige’s lap with her legs crossed. Azzi had one hand resting lightly on Paige’s shoulder, the other holding a half-empty cup, while Paige’s hands settled naturally on her waist. Paige leaned in closer as she mumbled in Azzi’s ear.

“I love when you wear your hair back like this,” Paige said.

Azzi let out a quiet laugh, tilting her head slightly as she turned to look at Paige. “Why?” she asked, though the corner of her lips twitched with a knowing smile.

Paige’s eyes flickered down to her neck, a smirk forming. “Because your neck is exposed,” she said, her voice dropping lower. “It’s so sexy.”

Azzi laughed again. “My neck is sexy?” she teased, arching an eyebrow at her girlfriend, though her cheeks were tinged with a faint blush.

“Mhm,” Paige hummed, leaning in to press a series of light kisses along the curve of Azzi’s neck. Her lips lingered just enough to make Azzi’s breath hitch as her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, leaning into the contact.

Azzi mumbled, her voice soft but with a slight edge of warning. “You need to behave.”

Paige chuckled, her breath warm against Azzi’s skin. “I am behaving baby,” she murmured, though her hands on Azzi’s waist tightened slightly, pulling her just a little closer.

“No, you’re not,” Azzi replied, her voice softer now, but her slight smile was still there. She leaned back slightly, just enough to look Paige in the eye.

Paige shrugged, clearly unbothered by the accusation. “I can’t help it. You’re just sitting here looking like that,” she said.

“Looking like what?” Azzi asked, tilting her head as she bit back a smile.

“Like you’re mine,” Paige replied smoothly, her words so confident and sincere that Azzi’s cheeks warmed more.

Azzi leaned forward slightly, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear as she whispered, “I am yours.”

Paige hummed low in her throat, her eyes darkening as she trailed a finger up Azzi’s side. “Then let me kiss you properly,” Paige murmured, already leaning in to kiss Azzi’s neck again.

Azzi let out a quiet laugh, trying to regain her composure even as her resolve melted under Paige’s touch. “You’re being bad,” she whispered, though she didn’t move to stop Paige.

“You love it,” Paige shot back, grinning against Azzi’s skin as she planted another soft kiss.

Azzi tilted her head slightly to give Paige better access before she caught herself. “You’re going to get us caught,” she murmured, her voice a little weaker now.

Paige pulled back just slightly, her lips still close to Azzi’s ear. “I don’t care. Let them see how much I love you,” she whispered, her tone so sincere that Azzi couldn’t help but lean into her again.

Azzi melted a little more, her resolve slipping completely as she gave in to the moment. But before either of them could take it further, they were interrupted by one of their friends suddenly plopping down on the couch next to them, breaking the moment entirely.

Kayla plopped down on the couch, completely oblivious to the intensity of the moment she had interrupted. Azzi leaned back slightly, trying to put some space between her and Paige, but Paige groaned at the loss of closeness, her hands instinctively tightening on Azzi’s waist in protest.

Azzi, noticing the slight pout forming on Paige’s lips, leaned in to whisper something softly in her ear. Whatever it was, made Paige’s expression relax instantly, her grip loosening slightly, though her eyes still lingered on Azzi with obvious longing.

Kayla, entirely unaware, held up a j between her fingers, glancing between the two. “Y’all want in?” she offered casually. The team only really smoked here and there during the offseason.

Paige shook her head with a quick, “Nah, I’m good,” but she caught the way Azzi’s eyes lingered on it just a little too long.

Paige smiled, leaning back slightly to get a better look at Azzi. “You wanna try it?” she asked

Azzi hesitated, her brows furrowing slightly. “I don’t know... How will it make me feel?”

Paige sat up, her lips brushing Azzi’s ear as she said, “It’ll make you feel euphoric baby.”

Her fingertip trailed slowly up and down Azzi’s leg, her movements featherlight, the alcohol clearly loosening her. “It’ll make touches like this,” Paige murmured, her voice a little husky, “feel... heightened.”

Azzi swallowed, her body stiffening slightly as Paige’s words sank in. “It slows everything down for you,” Paige continued, her fingertip never stopping its slow path along Azzi’s skin. “So you feel everything.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her throat dry as she tried to fight the way her body reacted to Paige’s touch. She uncrossed and then re-crossed her legs, shifting slightly in Paige’s lap as her gaze dropped to the floor for a moment.

Finally, she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

Paige smiled at her, as she took the j from Kayla and handed it to Azzi, explaining to her how to hit it. Kayla watched the exchange with mild interest, still completely oblivious to the tension that was in the air.

Azzi took her first hit a little too strongly, her inexperience showing as she immediately broke into a coughing fit. Paige chuckled softly, her tone warm as she handed Azzi a water bottle. “Here, goofball,” she teased, her free hand rubbing gentle circles on Azzi’s back.

Kayla grinned at the scene, clearly amused. “Just shotgun it for her, P,” she suggested casually, leaning back on the couch.

Paige immediately smiled at the idea, her eyes flicking over to Azzi, whose brows furrowed slightly in confusion. Noticing Azzi’s puzzled look, Paige took the j from her hand. Her voice softened as she explained, “Just inhale softly when I get close to you.”

Azzi nodded, her lips parting slightly in anticipation, her confusion fading into curiosity. Paige brought the joint to her lips and took a slow, practiced pull, the motion smooth, her confidence making it clear she’d done this before. The way she ghosted the smoke, letting it curl out slightly before pulling it back in, had Azzi's stomach flipping, a subtle ache building between her legs.

Paige leaned in close, so close their lips were just a breath apart but didn’t quite touch. The faint scent of Paige’s cologne mingled with the smoke, and Azzi’s heart skipped a beat. Paige exhaled slowly, blowing the smoke toward Azzi’s lips in a controlled stream. Azzi inhaled instinctively, her movements guided by Paige’s confidence, and this time, it was much smoother.

When Paige finally pulled back, the distance between them still intimate, her lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. “Good?” she asked.

Azzi’s gaze remained locked on Paige, a mix of awe and desire shining in her eyes. She nodded, unable to hide the faint blush creeping across her cheeks. “Yeah... good,” she murmured, her voice a little breathier than she intended.

Paige’s smirk deepened as she settled back into the couch, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s thigh. Azzi glanced away for a moment, trying to compose herself, but the slight grin tugging at her lips betrayed how much the moment had affected her.

Azzi and Paige shotgunned a few more times, each one pulling them further into a haze of euphoria. Both of their eyes were low now, their bodies relaxed and warm from the mix of alcohol and weed. Azzi leaned closer into Paige, her fingers lazily tracing up and down Paige’s chest and neck.

Paige’s lips quirked up as she watched Azzi, who was smiling at her in that slow, dreamy way that always managed to make Paige’s heart skip. The substances were starting to hit Paige fully now, her limbs heavy, her thoughts pleasantly fuzzy. She thought about how deeply relaxed she felt and realized that if she was feeling it, Azzi—who was less experienced—had to be feeling it even more.

Paige chuckled softly at Azzi, her tone affectionate. “Alright, you’re done, princess,” she said, gently taking Azzi’s drink from her hand and placing it on the table beside them.

Azzi immediately pouted, her lips forming an adorable frown as she protested. “What? Nooo, I’m fine,” she murmured, her words slightly slurred as she tried to reach for the drink again.

Paige raised an eyebrow, amused but firm, easily keeping the drink out of Azzi’s reach. “Mmhmm, sure you are,” Paige teased, brushing a strand of hair out of Azzi’s face. “But we’re not about to have you blacking out on me.”

Azzi huffed dramatically, crossing her arms but still leaning into Paige’s chest. “You’re no fun,” she mumbled, though the smile tugging at her lips gave her away.

Paige grinned, leaning down to kiss the top of Azzi’s head. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta make sure you don’t embarrass yourself,” she teased.

Azzi tilted her head to look up at Paige, her eyes half-lidded but shining with fondness. “I wouldn’t embarrass myself,” she murmured, her fingers now tracing slow circles over Paige’s collarbone. “You’d take care of me, wouldn’t you?”

Paige’s heart softened at the vulnerability in Azzi’s voice, and she smiled, her hand sliding to rest gently on Azzi’s hip. “Always baby,” she said simply, her tone carrying a sincerity that made Azzi’s pout melt into a soft smile.

After some time, Kayla left Paige and Azzi to their own world again, sensing she was intruding. Now, Azzi was completely wrapped around Paige, sitting sideways in her lap so she had better access. Azzi’s lips trailed over Paige’s neck as she mumbled about how pretty Paige was.

Paige, the effects of the alcohol and weed softening all her inhibitions, leaned fully into the attention. Her hands roamed lazily across Azzi’s legs. “You’re sexy,” Paige murmured, as her fingers brushed the hem of Azzi’s shorts.

Azzi smiled against Paige’s skin, her lips finding a sweet spot just below her jaw. She began to suck gently, her tongue flicking over the sensitive area. Paige sighed, tilting her head to give Azzi more room, completely lost in the sensation.

“You’re so perfect,” Azzi whispered between kisses, her voice barely audible but enough to make Paige shiver.

Paige’s hands tightened on Azzi’s thighs, her grip tight, as she hummed, “Baby, you gotta stop.”

Azzi pulled back slightly, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear. “Why?” she mumbled.

Paige groaned softly, leaning her head back against the couch. “Feels too good.”

Azzi chuckled, as she placed another open-mouthed kiss on her neck. “Isn’t that a good thing?” she teased, her hands brushing up Paige’s sides.

Paige hummed again, her eyes fluttering shut. “It’s a great thing,” she said, her voice strained. “But not when all these people are around.”

Azzi laughed softly at that, pulling back just enough to look at Paige, her smile playful. “They’re wasted,” she said, gesturing subtly to the crowded room. “Ignore them.”

Paige glanced around, realizing Azzi was right. The party was packed, with most of the people in a haze of their own drunken bliss, paying no attention to anyone else. That thought didn’t stop the heat crawling up Paige’s neck, though.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” Paige muttered.

Azzi smiled at that, leaning back in just enough to press her lips to Paige’s neck again. Her kisses were slow and deliberate, her mouth leaving small marks across Paige’s skin. She wasn’t shy about her affection, even on the couch in front of everyone.

Eventually, Paige let out a low groan and tilted her head, grabbing Azzi by the jaw and pulling her into a kiss. It was slow but deep, their lips moving together as if no one else was around. The kiss lingered, the party noise fading into the background for a moment, before they pulled back, their foreheads brushing.

Azzi’s fingers played with the hem of Paige’s shirt as her eyes drifted up to meet hers. “I want you so bad,” she murmured.

Paige hummed, leaning closer as her lips brushed Azzi’s ear. “Tell me more,” she teased, her tone encouraging, fully enjoying how Azzi clung to her words.

Azzi shifted in Paige’s lap, her body pressing closer as her hands wandered to Paige’s shoulders. “You drive me crazy, P,” she admitted softly. “You have no idea how hard it is to be around you and not...you know” She trailed off, biting her lip as her cheeks flushed slightly.

Paige smirked, her lips grazing Azzi’s jaw as she said, “I think I do.” Her hands slid up Azzi’s thighs, close enough to make Azzi exhale sharply.

They both knew nothing was going to happen until later, but the tension between them grew heavier with every second, the anticipation building with no outlet.

Just as Azzi leaned in to kiss her again, Paige’s body stiffened. Her arms instinctively wrapped tighter around Azzi’s waist, her playful expression dropping.

Azzi frowned, noticing the change in Paige’s energy. “What’s wrong baby?” she asked softly, her voice laced with concern.

Paige didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes were fixed on someone across the room. Azzi followed her gaze and immediately spotted what—or rather who—had caught Paige’s attention.

Amber.

She was standing near the kitchen, laughing at something one of their teammates said, trying to ignore Paige’s sharp glare.

Azzi’s brows furrowed as she turned back to Paige. “It’s fine P” she said quietly, leaning in closer so only Paige could hear.

Paige clenched her jaw, trying to play it off, but the way her fingers dug slightly into Azzi’s waist gave her away. “She shouldn’t even be here,” Paige muttered.

Azzi cupped Paige’s cheek gently, forcing her to look away from Amber and back at her. “Hey,” she whispered. “She’s not worth it. I’m here with you, end of story.”

Paige exhaled, her body relaxing slightly under Azzi’s touch. “You’re right, I’m sorry” she admitted, her voice quieter now.

Azzi smiled softly, brushing her thumb against Paige’s cheek. “I always am,” she teased, earning a faint smile from Paige as she leaned in for a kiss.

Paige and Azzi slipped effortlessly back into their bubble, the rest of the room fading into irrelevance as Azzi coaxed Paige into the same haze she was in. Azzi’s hands were in Paige’s hair, guiding her as their lips moved lazily against each other.

Paige’s lips traveled down Azzi’s neck, pressing soft kisses to her exposed skin, her hands resting on Azzi’s thighs. Azzi let her head fall back slightly, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair as a faint hum escaped her lips.

It was at this moment that Amber decided to walk over, her presence interrupting them. “Azzi,” she called, her voice loud enough to cut through the haze. “Can I talk to you?”

Azzi opened her eyes, looking up slowly, and Amber was immediately struck by the expression on her face. It wasn’t just the alcohol or the weed—it was the clear desire Azzi held for Paige. The way her lips were swollen, her eyes half-lidded as she pushed Paige further into her, it was a sight that made Amber’s jaw clench tightly.

Paige, meanwhile, didn’t even glance up. She stayed exactly where she was, her lips still brushing over Azzi’s neck, her movements unbothered by Amber’s presence. Azzi didn’t stop her, one hand still in Paige’s hair as she looked at Amber.

“About what?” Azzi asked.

Amber’s discomfort was clear as she shifted on her feet. “You know… just about how we left things,” she said awkwardly, her eyes flickering between Azzi and Paige, who was still trailing kisses up Azzi’s neck.

Azzi stared at Amber for a moment, her expression unreadable, before finally gesturing to the empty space on the couch. “Go ahead.” she said calmly.

Amber hesitated for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with Paige’s presence, but she eventually sat down, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

Paige finally paused her kisses, resting her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, her hooded eyes trailing over Amber with curiosity, sizing her up without much effort. A faint smirk tugged at Paige’s lips, and she leaned closer to Azzi, whispering, "You want me to go?"

Azzi didn’t hesitate. “No,” she murmured, sliding Paige’s hand higher on her thigh, her fingers intertwining over Paige’s for emphasis. The small action felt intimate. Then, Azzi turned back to Amber, her posture calm but clearly a little disinterested. “Go ahead,” she said.

Amber glanced between the two of them, her jaw tightening at the way Paige’s fingers lightly brushed against Azzi’s leg. Still, Amber pushed forward. “Look, Azzi, I just…” she started, her voice faltering. She sighed heavily before finding her words again. “I just want to apologize—for how I acted when we first got to UConn. I was... immature, and I didn’t treat you the way you deserved to be treated.”

Azzi nodded slightly, her expression unreadable.

Amber shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Azzi’s silence but continued. “I didn’t know how to handle things back then. I got caught up in my own insecurities, but I can see now that… you’re incredible. You always have been. I know I could’ve treated you better. And I just—I don’t want there to be bad blood between us.”

Azzi finally responded. “I appreciate the apology, Amber. I do,” she said, her eyes meeting Amber’s briefly before they flicked back to Paige, who had started idly playing with Azzi’s fingers as she scrolled on her phone. Azzi gently tugged Paige’s hand back, keeping her attention on her rather than her phone or anything else. “But it’s been a long time since then, and I’ve moved on from that. I’m not holding onto any resentment, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Amber’s face softened slightly,m, but before she could say more, Azzi leaned back into Paige’s touch. “I’m glad you’re in a better place, though,” she added, the words polite but distant.

Amber hesitated, her gaze flickering between them again. “I just wanted you to know that I see you now. I see what I missed back then, and—”

Azzi cut her off gently but firmly. “Amber, I hear you,” she said, her hand absently tightening over Paige’s. “And I appreciate the effort. But like I said, I’ve moved on.” Her gaze shifted entirely to Paige, who was staring into space, for a second, her tone softening as if Paige were the only person in the room. “You good baby?”

Paige blinked a few times coming back to reality, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “I’m perfect.”

Azzi let out a quiet hum, her lips curling into a soft smile at Paige’s words. But before they could fully settle back into their bubble, Amber cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“Azzi look,” Amber started, her tone hesitant but laced with a hint of hope. “I know I messed up before, and I don’t expect things to just go back to how they were. But… do you think maybe we could try again? Like, really try?”

Paige’s smile faltered, her expression hardening slightly as she subtly tightened her grip on Azzi’s thigh. Azzi, however, didn’t react much, her eyes locking on Amber.

“Amber,” Azzi said, her voice steady, “That’s not going to happen.”

Amber blinked, taken aback by the immediacy of Azzi’s response. “Why not? I mean it was almost three years…” She glanced at Paige, a slight edge creeping into her tone. “Are you and Paige even serious? Or is this just some… thing you’re doing?”

Paige raised an eyebrow at the question, her smirk returning. She leaned back slightly, letting Azzi handle it.

“What Paige and I have isn’t any of your business,” she said . “But even if she wasn’t in the picture, the answer would still be no. We’re not going back to that.”

Amber frowned, her jaw tightening. “I’ve changed,” she insisted. “I wouldn’t treat you the way I did before.”

“I’m sure you have,” Azzi replied. “But I’ve changed too. And what I want now? It’s not someone you.”

The words hung in the air for a moment. Amber looked like she wanted to argue, but she caught the way Azzi’s hand shifted to intertwine with Paige’s fingers, her thumb brushing lightly over Paige’s knuckles.

Amber exhaled sharply, standing up. “Right,” she muttered, avoiding their gazes. “Well, good luck with… whatever this is Azzi, I’m glad you were able to move on so fast.”

Paige let out a low chuckle as Amber walked away, her smirk growing. “Whatever this is, huh?” she teased, her voice amused.

Azzi turned back to Paige, her expression softening immediately as she leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Paige’s lips.

…

A bit later Paige made her way back from the makeshift bar, two drinks in hand. As she weaved through the crowd, Amber bumped her shoulder—hard enough to make her notice what she would usually brush off at a party. Whether it was intentional or not wasn’t clear, but the look Amber gave her suggested it might have been.

Paige’s jaw tightened as she forced herself to keep walking. There was no point in starting something here—not with so many people watching, and definitely not with Azzi waiting for her.

When she finally reached Azzi, she handed her the drink with a tight smile before tilting her head back and downing her own in one go. Azzi raised an eyebrow, amused, watching Paige set the empty cup down.

“Oh?” Azzi said, a teasing tone in her voice. “What’s got you all fired up?”

Paige smirked, brushing it off. “I wanna dance.”

Azzi hummed, as she downed her own drink. She set her cup aside and slipped her fingers through Paige’s, tugging her toward the crowded part of the house.

“Come on, then,” Azzi said as she glanced over her shoulder at Paige.

Paige chuckled, the tension from earlier fading as she let Azzi pull her closer to the sound of the music and the crowd. It wasn’t long before their world narrowed again, the sway of their bodies and the energy between them overtaking everything else.

The music pulsed around them, but Paige and Azzi were completely absorbed in each other, their bodies moving in sync.

Paige hadn’t forgotten about her bet with Nika. Her mind worked as she danced, planting subtle seeds with every touch—her hands trailing just a little slower along Azzi’s hips, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear whenever she spoke. "You like this, don’t you?" Paige murmured, as her fingers skimmed Azzi’s waistline. “How close I’m keeping you?”

Azzi chuckled softly. "Don’t start something you can’t finish, P," Azzi replied, her voice equally as sultry, her eyes sparkling with challenge. But Azzi was leaving her own seeds. Her hands drifted over Paige’s back and slid up into her hair, nails grazing her scalp just enough to send a shiver down Paige’s spine.

“You’re doing it again,” Paige said with a smirk, leaning closer.

“Doing what?” Azzi’s lips brushed against Paige’s cheek, her fingers lightly tracing down the back of her neck.

“Trying to make me lose my mind,” Paige muttered.

“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to hold back tonight,” Azzi countered, tugging Paige’s face closer until their noses brushed. “So why are you holding back now?”

Paige raised a brow, her smirk deepening. "I’m not holding back. I’m planting seeds."

Azzi’s laugh was soft. “And what kind of seeds are you planting?”

“The kind that’ll have you begging later,” Paige whispered against Azzi’s ear.

Azzi smiled at this, leaning in to kiss Paige’s neck a few times.

At that moment, Paige’s eyes wandered over Azzi’s shoulder, locking with Amber’s across the room. Amber was leaning against a wall, her expression unreadable, though her gaze lingered a little too long.

Azzi noticed almost immediately. Her brow arched as she leaned in, her lips grazing Paige’s ear. “Why,” she murmured, “are you looking at my ex and not me?”

Paige’s lips quirked into a smirk as her eyes shifted back to Azzi’s. “She bumped into me earlier.”

Azzi tilted her head, her lips curling into a smile as she hummed thoughtfully. Her hand came up, fingers softly brushing along Paige’s jaw before sliding to her throat. She applied the lightest pressure, enough to make Paige’s breath hitch. “Hmm,” Azzi mused. “Sounds like she’s jealous.”

Before Paige could respond, Azzi closed the distance between them, pulling her in for a kiss that was anything but subtle. Their tongues tangled immediately, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Paige gripped Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer, while Azzi’s free hand found its way into Paige’s hair, her nails grazing her scalp.

The room around them blurred as they lost themselves in the kiss, the rest of the party fading into irrelevance. When they finally pulled back, their foreheads pressed together, Paige let out a soft chuckle.

Azzi’s smirk was playful, her lips still swollen from the kiss, “Feel better?”

Paige grinned, her eyes darkening as she leaned in closer, their lips nearly brushing again. “Mmm... not yet.”

In one swift motion, Paige turned them around, pressing Azzi’s back against the wall. Her fingers wrapped firmly around Azzi’s neck, not enough to hurt but enough to make Azzi’s breath hitch and her eyes widen in anticipation. Paige pulled her into a kiss, this one deeper, more aggressive. Azzi moaned softly into Paige’s mouth, her hands clutching at Paige’s hips as she melted into the moment.

When Paige finally pulled back, a smirk played on her lips, her hand still lingering lightly around Azzi’s throat. “I’m good now,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing.

Azzi, wasn’t done. Her eyes were completely dazed, a dreamy smile curling her lips as she bit down on her bottom lip, her teeth tugging at it. Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Azzi asked, her eyelashes fluttering innocently, though her tone and the slight pout of her lips gave away her bratty intentions.

Paige arched a brow, her smirk widening. “You know why.”

Azzi tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with playful defiance. “I want you to tell me,” she said. Her hands slid up under Paige’s shirt, her nails dragging lightly along Paige’s stomach in a way that made Paige’s muscles tense.

“Stop,” Paige said.

Azzi shook her head, her lips curling into a smug little smile. “No.” Her defiance was clear, the glint in her eyes showed she was testing Paige on purpose, fully aware of the effect she was having.

Paige exhaled sharply, her jaw tightening as she looked at Azzi. “Stop being a brat.”

Azzi fluttered her lashes again, leaning in closer as her lips brushed against Paige’s jaw. “Make me,” she whispered, her fingers now lightly tracing along the waistband of Paige’s sweats.

Paige’s eyes darkened, her hand tightening ever so slightly around Azzi’s neck as her other hand slid to Azzi’s hip, gripping it firmly. “Azzi,” she warned. Her smirk betrayed just how much she enjoyed the game Azzi was playing.

Azzi just grinned, her defiance still there as her hands rested under Paige’s shirt, her fingertips tracing teasing patterns against her skin. “Yes baby?” she murmured.

Paige tilted her head, her smirk growing as her thumb brushed against Azzi’s jawline. “Why you being a brat, princess?”

Azzi’s grin widened as she leaned in slightly, her lips almost brushing Paige’s. “Because you like it.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her grip on Azzi’s neck tightening just enough to make her gasp softly. “I do?”

Azzi nodded, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip before she bit it teasingly. “Mhm,” she hummed, her eyes half-lidded as she stared at Paige.

For a while, they didn’t say anything, the tension between them suffocating. Paige’s hand stayed firmly around Azzi’s neck, her thumb tracing slow circles along her throat, while Azzi’s fingers continued their lazy movements against Paige’s stomach.

Then Azzi leaned in, her lips brushing Paige’s ear as she whispered, “Take me home.”

And with that Paige was tugging Azzi out of the party.

…

As soon as they stepped into Paige’s room and the door clicked shut, Azzi was on her. Her hands found Paige’s face, pulling her into a deep, hungry kiss as though they hadn’t been in each other’s orbit all night. Within seconds, Azzi’s shirt was discarded, and her hands were tugging at Paige’s Nike tech zip-up, impatiently peeling it off her shoulders.

Paige chuckled against her lips, helping Azzi shove the jacket off her shoulders before Azzi’s fingers hooked under her white tee, yanking it over her head in one swift motion. Their lips crashed back together, the kiss desperate as they stumbled toward the bed, their bodies pressed tightly together.

They barely made it before Paige’s knees hit the mattress, and they tumbled onto it, Azzi landing on her back with Paige falling on top of her. Both of them burst into soft, breathless laughter, their foreheads resting together for a fleeting moment before Azzi’s hands slid up Paige’s bare back, pulling her closer.

“You’re eager,” Paige teased, as she leaned down, brushing her lips against Azzi’s again.

Azzi smiled against her lips, her nails lightly raking along Paige’s back. “You make me like this,” she murmured, before pulling Paige back into another kiss that left no room for words.

As their lips broke apart for a brief second, Paige brushed her thumb along Azzi’s jawline, her blue eyes lidded and dark with a mix of desire and the lingering effects of the night. Azzi gazed up at her, chest rising and falling rapidly, her lips swollen.

“You’re so beautiful,” Paige murmured, her voice rough, barely above a whisper, before leaning down to kiss Azzi again, her lips lingering against hers.

Azzi let out a small hum, sliding her hands along Paige’s waist before tangling her fingers in her hair, tugging just enough to make Paige gasp softly into her mouth. “You talk too much,” Azzi teased against her lips, as her legs wrapped tighter around Paige’s waist.

Paige chuckled, her hand trailing down Azzi’s side as she pulled back just slightly to look at her. “You love it,” she whispered, her smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Azzi grinned but didn’t respond, instead pulling Paige back in for another kiss, this one deeper and slower, her nails lightly grazing the nape of Paige’s neck. After a moment, Azzi stilled, both her hands cupping Paige’s face, stopping her in her tracks. Paige froze, her breath coming out ragged as she stared down at Azzi.

Azzi’s dark brown eyes locked onto Paige’s, her gaze soft. She licked her lips, her voice low as she said, “Don’t hold back tonight.”

“I know, baby,” Paige replied softly, her voice strained.

But Azzi shook her head, her grip on Paige’s face tightening just slightly. “No,” she whispered, her tone more commanding this time. “Don’t stop and ask me how I am. Don’t ask me how I’m feeling, if I’m okay—none of it. Just don’t hold back.”

Paige clenched her jaw at Azzi’s words, the weight of her trust and permission sinking into her. Her hand slid up to Azzi’s cheek, her thumb brushing over her lips as she searched Azzi’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

Azzi nodded, pulling Paige’s face closer to hers, their foreheads nearly touching. “I promise I’ll be okay,” Azzi whispered.

Paige exhaled shakily, her restraint wavering as she nodded back. “Okay,” she murmured before Azzi tugged her down into a kiss that obliterated any remaining hesitation Paige had left.

They stayed tangled in each other's lips for a while, both of them breathless as Paige hovered over Azzi, her weight resting on her forearm as her free hand traced slow patterns over the bare skin of Azzi’s stomach. She dragged her fingers down, teasing the edge of Azzi’s waistband before moving back up, earning a sharp inhale from Azzi. Paige’s lips curled into a small smile as she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Azzi’s collarbone.

“I told you,” Paige murmured against her skin, “It’s different when you just let yourself feel it.”

Azzi’s breath hitched as Paige’s lips trailed along her neck. Her body arched slightly beneath Paige, the heightened sensations amplified by the lingering effects of the alcohol and what she smoked. “Feels so good,” Azzi mumbled, her voice breathy, as she tilted her head to give Paige more access.

Paige chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against Azzi’s skin. “I know it does,” she whispered into her ear.

Paige’s hand continued its exploration, her fingertips ghosting over Azzi’s sides and down her thighs, her touch so light it was almost maddening. She dragged her fingers up the inside of Azzi’s arm, across her ribs, and then back down to the curve of her hip, never staying in one place long enough to satisfy. Azzi squirmed, her breaths coming quicker as her hands fisted the sheets beneath her.

“Paige,” Azzi whispered, her tone needy and frustrated.

“Mmm?” Paige hummed, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she spoke.

Azzi whimpered softly, her hands moving to grip Paige’s back, her nails lightly scratching at her skin. Paige smirked, kissing a slow path down Azzi’s neck to her shoulder, pausing to nip gently at her skin before soothing it with her tongue.

“You’re so sensitive right now,” Paige murmured. “Every little touch, every kiss... you feel it everywhere, don’t you?”

Azzi let out a shaky exhale, her head nodding slightly as her eyes fluttered shut. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Paige’s hand slid higher, her fingers tracing the outline of Azzi’s ribs before she pressed her palm flat against her sternum, feeling the rapid thrum of Azzi’s heartbeat. “You’re already worked up,” Paige said softly. “And I haven’t even really started yet.”

Azzi opened her eyes, her gaze hazy as she met Paige’s intense blue ones. She licked her lips, her voice trembling slightly as she said, “You’re so unfair.”

Paige grinned, dipping her head to capture Azzi’s lips in a slow, deep kiss that leaves her captivated.

Before Azzi’s thoughts can catch up Paige is sliding her hand in her shorts and pushing two fingers in her, making her jaw drop at the feeling. Paige smiles down at Azzi feeling how easy it is for her to move her fingers in and out mumbling, “Fuck baby this all for me?”

Azzi’s hips lift instinctively as she pushes herself further into Paige, her body reacting to the slow pace of Paige’s fingers. “Mhmm,” she hummed breathlessly, her voice shaky as she let her eyes flutter closed for a moment.

Paige clicked her tongue softly, her hand stalling as she pulls them out. “Use your words,” she said, as she looked at Azzi. “Tell me.”

Azzi let out a small whimper, forcing her eyes open to meet Paige’s gaze. “Yes fuck,” she breathed, her voice trembling slightly. “It’s all for you Paige.”

A pleased hum escaped Paige as she leaned down, brushing her lips against Azzi’s collarbone before kissing her way up to her jaw as she slides her fingers back in. “That’s my girl,” she murmured against her skin, her words sending a rush through Azzi.

Azzi squirmed beneath her, feeling like she felt Paige all over her skin. Everything felt so heightened and Azzi felt like she wouldn’t last long. Paige tilted her head, studying her like she was committing every little reaction to memory. “Tell me how it feels,” Paige demanded softly, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she spoke.

Azzi’s breath came in short gasps as she struggled to gather herself to speak, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her. A few shaky whimpers slipped past her lips before she finally managed to look Paige in the eyes again. “You always make me feel so good baby. I can never get enough,” Azzi whispered, her voice raw.

Paige smirks at this, her fingers moving a little faster in Azzi as she moved closer, “You’re so desperate for me aren’t you.”

Azzi gasped softly at the shift in Paige’s demeanor, her nails digging into Paige’s back. “Yes, fuck I—I am baby I want more. I need—” she started, but Paige didn’t let her finish as she adds a third finger making Azzi’s words falter.

Azzi’s lips parted, her breath hitching as she arched beneath Paige. “Fuck you’re so deep Paige,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as she rocks against Paige basically riding her fingers as she grinds down on her.

Paige meets Azzi’s rhythm pushing herself in deeper. Azzi whimpered again, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Shit…oh my God,” her voice trembling.

A groan escapes Paige’s lips at the feeling of Azzi taking her so easily. She leans down to kiss her, their lips moving together sloppily as Azzi whines in Paige’s mouth at the feeling pooling between her legs.

As Paige’s lips moved against Azzi’s, she felt the soft, desperate murmurs slipping past Azzi’s mouth. “Paige... baby, I need more,” Azzi panted between kisses, her fingers digging into Paige’s shoulders at the feeling of her fingers curling inside of her.

Paige pulled back just slightly, her lips brushing against Azzi’s as she smirked down at her. “Whatchu need mama?” she asked, her blue eyes dark and locked on Azzi’s face filled with pleasure.

Azzi’s breathing hitched, her hips lifting slightly as her hands trailed down Paige’s arms. “More,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Fuck—I just need more.”

Paige chuckled softly, the sound a little rough as she tilted her head, her lips ghosting over Azzi’s jaw. “More of what, baby?” she pressed, her fingers dragging out of Azzi completely before pressing them back in, sending shivers through her. “You gotta tell me.”

Azzi’s head tipped back, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she tried to form the words, her body practically vibrating beneath Paige. “I want your mouth baby—” she finally managed, her voice small but drenched in need.

Paige’s smirk deepened, her eyes glinting as she leaned in, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear. “That’s all you had to say,” she murmured as she lowers herself down Azzi’s body stopping to kiss and suck here and there.

Paige pulls her fingers out making Azzi whine at the loss as she’s bringing them to her lips. “Clean them up for me, baby,” Paige murmured, pressing them gently against Azzi’s lips.

Azzi didn’t hesitate, parting her lips and taking Paige’s fingers in, her tongue brushing over each of them slowly cleaning everything up. Her eyes fluttered shut, a soft, satisfied hum escaping her throat. “Mhmm...”

Paige watched her intently, the corner of her mouth twitching into a grin. “You like the way you taste?” she asked, her thumb brushing along Azzi’s chin as she held her gaze.

Azzi nodded, her lips still wrapped around Paige’s fingers, her eyes heavy as they flicked up to meet hers. She pulled back just slightly, her breath warm against Paige’s fingers as she whispered, “I love it.”

Paige chuckled, her smirk growing as she used both hands to pull off Azzi’s shorts and underwear slowly. “Good girl,” she murmured.

Azzi whines when Paige blows on her center teasing her but it’s quickly replaced by a moan when Paige licks it slowly taking her sweet time. Paige laps at Azzi slowly a hum escaping her throat at the way Azzi tastes like.

The gentleness of it isn’t enough for Azzi who’s been worked up all night so she starts pushing her hips into Paige. Paige smirks up at her getting the hint as she presses her tongue more firmly against Azzi.

Azzi immediately throws her head back wrapping on of her legs around Paige to bring her closer as she moans out “Mmm just like that baby.”

Paige chuckles at this as she murmurs against Azzi, “Feels good pretty?”

Azzi immediately responds “Sshh be quiet just eat me baby feels to good,” using one of her hands to push Paige’s face closer into her so she can’t speak.

Paige immediately pushes herself back. Using both of her hands on Azzi’s hips

to separate her from Azzi’s center causing Azzi to whine. “Who the fuck are you talking to like that?”

Azzi doesn’t say anything she just desperately tries to push hips up but Paige’s hands are pressing them down into the mattress. “Answer me when I’m talking to you.”

Azzi locks eyes with Paige a small smirk on her lips, a deep contrast to her hazy low eyes. “I’m talking to you.”

Paige raises her eyebrows at this chuckling a little as she nods her head slowly. “Alright remember that.”

Paige lowers herself back down attaching her lips to Azzi who immediately hums at the feeling, not even thinking about the consequences she knew she was going to get later.

Paige works her tongue against Azzi perfectly. Switching between lapping at Azzi completely and sucking, knowing exactly how to get Azzi where she wants her. Azzi is completely lost in the way Paige is eating her as she tangles her hands in her hair “Oh fuck… oh my god baby just like that.”

Paige laps at Azzi faster and a high pitched moan falls from Azzi’s lips as she pushes her hips up to meet Paige each time she swirls her tongue. Not long after Azzi’s legs start to shake slightly, the feeling in her stomach getting tight as she looses the rhythm she had with Paige moaning out “Yes yes fuck I’m so close baby keep going…”

Hearing this Paige immediately uses both hands to push against Azzi’s hips separating them as she stands up. Azzi’s eyes snap open at this “Paige what the fuck?”

Paige doesn’t even look at her as she walks toward the closet. “Shut the fuck up and sit there and wait.”

Azzi propped herself up on her elbows, her eyes narrowing slightly. She wanted to be annoyed but the tone in Paige’s voice made any irritation she had give way to excitement

She bit her lip, shifting slightly on the bed as she watched Paige, unable to tear her eyes away from the way Paige moved.

Paige opened the closet, her back to Azzi, the muscles in her shoulders flexing as she reached inside. After a moment, she stepped back, holding the strap and

harness in her hands. She took off the rest of her clothes before stepping into it, pulling the straps tight with ease.

Azzi’s throat went dry, her fingers curling into the sheets as her gaze followed Paige’s every movement as she started to walk back towards the bed.

“Flip over,” Paige said, as she stopped at the edge of the bed.

Azzi blinked, her breath catching slightly. “What?” she asked, her tone tinged with surprise.

Paige’s jaw tightened, her blue eyes dark as she looked down at her. “You heard me,” Paige said sharply. “Don’t make me repeat myself Azzi.”

The authoritative edge in her voice made Azzi swallow a little harshly. But without hesitation, she obeyed, immediately flipping onto her stomach, her face pressing into the cool sheets as she adjusted herself beneath Paige’s gaze.

“That’s better,” Paige murmured, a smirk tugging at her lips as she let her hand trail down Azzi’s back, her fingers dragging over her spine. “You do listen when you want to, huh?”

Azzi hummed softly, her breath uneven. “Only for you.”

Paige let out a dry chuckle, her grip tight as she grabbed Azzi’s hip, pulling her up to get on all fours. Azzi followed without hesitation, her face burning as she pressed her palms into the mattress. Paige’s hand ran over the curve of her hip before giving it a sharp squeeze.

“So, why were you being a brat then?” Paige asked.

“I wasn’t,” Azzi said quickly, her voice soft, almost defensive.

Paige raised an eyebrow, scoffing as she pushed Azzi’s chest against the mattress.“Yes, you were,” Paige countered, her tone sharper now.

Azzi whimpered, glancing back over her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to, baby,” she murmured, her voice pleading.

Paige laughed. “Bullshit,” she said flatly, her hand gripping Azzi’s hip tighter as she rubs the strap against Azzi. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

Azzi bit her lip, looking away, knowing there was no way out of this.

Azzi bit her lip harder as Paige continued to push the strap against Azzi spreading her wetness all over it. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry, baby…”

Paige let out a chuckle. She leaned down, her breath hot against Azzi’s neck, and murmured, “I know you are now.”

Without another word, Paige reached up, her fingers working to undo Azzi’s ponytail. Azzi’s hair cascaded down, and Paige’s hands combed through her scalp briefly before wrapping her fingers into the curls. With a sharp tug, she pulled Azzi’s head back, forcing her deep into the arch.

A loud gasp leaves Azzi’s body as Paige slides the entire length into her.

"Oh shit," Paige says licking her lips as she watches the way Azzi takes it all. Azzi’s body immediately begins trembling considering it was already close to spilling over when Paige stopped abruptly.

Azzi whimpered, her voice breathless and trembling. "Paige... baby I’m not going to last long."

Paige’s smirk deepened as she tugged Azzi’s hair tighter, not moving her hips yet. Yes, you are."

Paige leaned closer, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear. "You’re about to work for it," Paige murmured.

Azzi shivered, her hands curling tighter into the sheets, her body already responding to Paige’s words. She swallowed hard, realizing she didn’t have an option—not with the way Paige was talking to her

“Ok, baby,” Azzi whispered.

“That’s what I thought,” Paige said, a grin spreading across her face as she released Azzi’s hair just long enough to let her reposition herself to grab it again. “Now, be a good girl and show me how much you want it.”

Azzi knows exactly what Paige means so she starts to move herself forward before pushing back against Paige.

Paige watches as Azzi does this over and over each time the toy comes out a little wetter making Paige groan.

Azzi glanced back over her shoulder, her lips parted as she continued throwing herself back against Paige. "You like that, baby?"

Paige's jaw tightened as her eyes stayed locked on Azzi’s movements, the desire in her gaze clear. She didn’t hesitate, her voice low. "I love it."

"Keep going," Paige murmured, loving the way Azzi felt pressed against her, "and don’t stop until I tell you to.”

Azzi can see it all over Paige’s face. She wants this just as bad, if not more than Azzi does. This is enough to cause Azzi to tighten against the strap trying to keep herself quiet so Paige doesn’t realize she’s close. But Paige knows Azzi’s body, she can see the slight tremble in her legs, the tight grip she has on the sheets.

Paige pulls out completely, the wetness dripping on the sheets as Azzi whines loudly.

Azzi’s voice was desperate as she gasped, “Baby, please, you’re edging me.”

Paige smirked as she leaned in closer, her voice calm yet firm. “You’re not done until I give you permission.”

“Why?” Azzi whined, her hips shifting back in search of relief.

Paige tilted her head, her blue eyes dark. “You know why.”

Azzi whimpered, her resolve breaking. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I told you to be quiet. I shouldn’t have said it.”

Paige shook her head. “Not good enough.” She pulled back, leaving Azzi desperately trying to press herself against her.

“Please, baby, I need you. I need you so bad,” Azzi breathed, her voice trembling.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “You gotta beg for it.”

“I’m already begging,” Azzi protested, her voice cracking.

Paige shook her head again, her lips curling into a smile. “No, you’re not. You can do better than that, Azzi.”

Azzi, willing to do whatever it took to feel Paige again, broke. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything. Please,” she pleaded, her voice desperate.”

Paige observed Azzi. “I still don’t hear you begging.”

Azzi’s breaths came faster, and she let go of all her pride. “Please, I’m begging. Please fuck me baby. Please. I just wanna feel you.” Her voice cracked, raw with want.

Paige hummed at this, a satisfied smile creeping across her face. “That’s better,” she murmured. Paige pulls Azzi up from the sheets by her hair wrapping her other hand around Azzi’s torso before she’s murmuring “Imma fuck you so good baby. Imma have you screaming for me.”

Azzi bites her lip at this before Paige is pushing into her again harshly making her eyes roll back as she moans loudly. Paige lets go of Azzi’s hair pushing her back into the mattress as she grabs both of her arms pulling them to meet behind her back as she works into her aggressively.

“Baby fuck..oh my god—“ Azzi cries out her eyes watering at the feeling.

Paige groans her eyes rolling back a little at the way everything is pushing against her as she fucks Azzi.

One of Paige’s hands travels back up to Azzi’s hair, grabbing it harshly. "You’re taking my shit so well baby.”

“Mhmm..yes I’ll do anything for you Paige. It’s all yours baby.” Azzi says her voice trembling and breath gasping between her words.

"Such a good girl baby," Paige gasps, her own legs shaking slightly as she slams into Azzi. The sound of their skin slapping against each other filling the room.

"Oh my—, fuck, fuck, right there," Azzi gasp, as she throws herself back against Paige.

"You gonna cum for baby?"

"Yes, yes, fuck baby please don’t stop." Azzi is almost breathless now as her stomach begins to burn as Paige grips her hips tightly now

"Paige I can’t.. I’m about to—“

"Cum all over me baby." Paige says as her own desire threatens to spill over.

Those words are enough to send Azzi over the edge, her legs shaking as she spills out onto the shears. The room fills with the sounds of her high pitched moans as she continues rocking back against Paige.

Before Azzi knows what’s happening Paige is flipping her on her back putting her hand around her neck as she drives back into her.

"Oh my god!" Azzi screams out.

"I needa see your face baby. I’m close.” Paige moans, her eyelids low as she moves in and out of Azzi so roughly she has the girl under her seeing white spots.

Azzi smirked lazily, her eyes completely rolled back as she spoke breathlessly, “You need to see my face?”

Paige hummed, her hand tightening on Azzi’s throat, squeezing just enough to cut off Azzi’s circulation a little. “Yeah, mama,” Paige whimpered, her voice still dripping with control. “I gotta see it.”

“Why?” Azzi rasped, her voice faltering slightly as Paige’s grip on her throat lingered.

Paige tilted her head, her blue eyes piercing as she leaned in closer leaning over Azzi now as she worked into her. Her hand tightened just a fraction more, cutting off Azzi’s circulation in a way that made her body buzz with heightened sensation as she got close to another orgasm.

“Gotta see how I make you feel,” Paige said.

“Makes me feel so good seeing your eyes roll back like that. Hearing how you scream for me,” Paige added, tone breathy as her thumb brushed Azzi’s jaw, her eyes never leaving her face that had tears streaming down it now from the way Paige was pushing into her.

"Baby, you’re in my stomach," Azzi cry’s out

"You taking it so well tho princess,"Paige says, as she keeps slamming her hips into Azzi. “I’m so fucking close Azzi baby."

Azzi’s hands start clawing at her shoulders leaving harsh red marks behind as scratches and digs at her shoulders. "Me too baby," Azzi whimpers, her eyes squeezed shut.

Paige starts to ramble the words falling out of her not making any sense as she works into Azzi trying not to finish yet. “Fuck— I’m so…shit baby—feels so good mama.”

Wetness is spilling out of both of them as it pools on the sheets beneath them.

Azzi’s lips parted as she gasped out desperately as more tears fell down her cheeks, "Paige baby—I’m about to cum baby.” Her nails digging into Paige’s back deeper. Paige lets out a sound of relief hearing this as it was getting too hard to stop her own orgasm.

Paige’s hand squeezes at Azzi’s neck tightly, completely cutting off circulation as she speaks into her neck,"Scream for me baby,” she gasped. “Let everybody hear that I got you like this.”

Azzi didn’t hesitate, her body arching as her voice rang out, screaming Paige’s name, the sound echoing through the room as both of them come undone together, Azzi gushing all over the sheets and Paige’s stomach as they both gasp Azzi shaking uncontrollably underneath Paige.

"Holy shit baby-" Paige moans out, in Azzi’s ear as she finishes. Paige collapsed onto Azzi, her body completely spent as the weight of exhaustion settled over them. Their skin is slick with sweat, and their chests rise and fall in sync, both desperate to catch their breaths. Paige’s lips brushed against Azzi’s neck as she lazily mumbled, “M’sorry, baby,” her voice soft and muffled.

Azzi let out a breathless laugh, her fingers gently brushing through Paige’s damp hair. “It’s okay,” she murmured, her voice light.

Paige smiled faintly, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s shoulder before whispering, “You’re too good to me.”

Azzi chuckled, her fingers trailing down Paige’s back in soothing strokes. “You say that like you don’t deserve it.”

Paige hummed, nuzzling closer as the tension in her body finally eased.

Paige lifted herself slightly, her elbows braced on either side of Azzi as she brushed her fingers tenderly against Azzi’s flushed cheek. Her blue eyes softened as she murmured, “I’m sorry for making you cry, beautiful.”

Azzi chuckled lightly. “It’s okay, baby. I asked for it, remember?” she teased, her hand trailing lazily down Paige’s arm before resting on her wrist. “Besides, you’re the only one who could ever make me feel this way.”

Paige tilted her head, her lips quirking into a smile. “Good,” she said softly, leaning down to kiss the tip of Azzi’s nose. “Because I don’t plan on letting anyone else try.”

Azzi laughed at that, her hand sneaking up to trace along Paige’s jawline. “Possessive much?”

Paige grinned. “Always. You like it, though.”

Azzi’s laughter grew quieter, her gaze locking onto Paige’s. “I do,” she admitted. “I really do.”

Paige kissed her forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. “I meant what I said earlier,” she whispered. “You’re mine, Azzi. Always.”

“And you’re mine.”

Paige stayed there for a moment longer, her gaze scanning Azzi’s face, committing every detail of this moment to memory.

Finally, she sighed standing up, her hand raking through her messy hair. “Meet me in the shower when you can walk again,” she teased, her lips curving into a smirk.

Azzi rolled her eyes, letting out a laugh. “You’re so dramatic,” she mumbled, but her body remained limp against the bed for a few more moments. Paige chuckled, shaking her head as she stood up and made her way to the bathroom quietly.

By the time Azzi finally joined her, still a little unsteady, they spent a quiet, moment under the warm water, the heat easing their muscles and calming their minds. Once they were out, Azzi grabbed a towel, carefully drying Paige off before helping her to the bed.

Now, Paige was sprawled on her stomach, her damp hair sticking to her skin as Azzi straddled her back. She gently squeezed Aquaphor onto her fingers, rubbing it into the harsh marks decorating Paige’s skin.

Paige let out a groan, her face buried in the pillow. “That hurts,” her voice muffled.

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head as she smoothed her hands over another scratch. “You’re such a big baby,” she teased.

Paige twisted her neck slightly to glance back at her, her lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated pout. “I’m not a baby,” she protested, though her voice betrayed her whining. “It hurts!”

Azzi laughed again, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of Paige’s shoulder. “I don’t know how you go from that to this.”

Paige huffed, turning her head back to rest against the pillow. “I got layers, baby,” she muttered.

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Shut up,” she said fondly, giving Paige’s head a light shove before crawling off of her. She moved across the room to turn off the light, plunging them into darkness.

Returning to the bed, Azzi slid under the covers, gently tugging Paige along with her. “Come here,” she murmured, pulling Paige onto her chest. Paige rests her head against Azzi’s collarbone, her body completely relaxed as Azzi’s hand lightly trailed up and down her back, careful not to disturb the Aquaphor.

“You know I need to let that stuff sit longer,” Azzi said softly, a small smile playing on her lips as she felt Paige’s breath even out against her skin.

Paige hummed, a sleepy smile tugging at her mouth. “You just like having me close,” she mumbled, her words already drowsy.

“Maybe,” Azzi admitted, her fingers stilling in Paige’s hair. “I don’t hear you complaining, though.”

“I’m not,” Paige whispered, her voice softer now.

After a beat of silence, she murmured, “I love you.”

Azzi’s heart swelled at the confession, and she tilted her head down just enough to kiss the top of Paige’s head. “I love you, too baby,” she whispered back.

…

The next morning, Paige and Azzi sat at the kitchen counter, eating the healthy breakfast Azzi had insisted on making Paige eat —scrambled eggs, avocado toast, and fresh fruit. Their voices were soft, the quiet hum of their conversation highlighted by occasional laughter as they shared little moments from the past week.

Just then, Nika emerged from her room, hair a mess and an irritated look on her face. Without saying a word, she walked up to the counter, grabbed a banana, and slapped $200 onto the counter in front of Paige.

Paige smirked. “Morning to you too sunshine,” she said, the smugness in her voice clear.

Nika didn’t respond at first, instead peeling her banana with a grumble. As she passed behind Paige, she clapped her hand against Paige’s shoulder harshly on purpose.

“Ah, shit—” Paige hissed, flinching as she jerked forward, her hand reflexively reaching for the sore spot.

Azzi’s head snapped up, her expression turning from amused to confused in an instant. “What’s going on?” she asked, her gaze shifting between Paige and Nika.

Paige winced but managed to keep her smile intact. Before she could answer, Nika chimed in, pointing a half-eaten banana at her. “That’s for losing the bet.”

Azzi frowned, her confusion evident. “What bet?”

Paige groaned softly, leaning back in her chair, but Nika was all too happy to explain. “Oh, Paige here thought she could make you scream for her. Bet me $200 she could pull it off.”

Azzi blinked, her cheeks instantly warming as her gaze darted back to Paige, whose sheepish grin was doing little to save her now. “Paige Madison Bueckers,” she said sharply, though her voice wavered somewhere between irritation and disbelief.

Paige shrugged, feigning innocence. “What? I knew I could do it. You know I hate being told what I can’t do baby.”

Azzi’s jaw dropped. “You bet on it?!”

Nika snorted. “Oh, she was real confident. Walked in my room before we left for the party and said, ‘Just have the cash ready in the morning.’”

Azzi shook her head, a mix of shock and amusement on her face. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Paige gave her a grin, leaning her elbow on the counter as she tilted her head. “Well, technically, I wasn’t wrong. Was I?”

Azzi let out a sharp laugh, nudging Paige’s leg with her knee under the table. “You’re such an idiot,” she said, rolling her eyes but unable to keep from laughing.

Paige leaned closer, her smirk softening into something more tender as she murmured, “Yeah, but you love me.”

Azzi sighed, shaking her head as she took a sip of her coffee. “Unfortunately for me, I really do,” she muttered.

Nika, satisfied with her morning entertainment, waved them off. “Alright, I’m done. This was worth every penny,” she said, heading back to her room with her banana in hand.

Once she was gone, Paige turned back to Azzi, her grin as shameless as ever. “So... am I forgiven?”

Azzi gave her a long look before breaking into a grin. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered, shaking her head as they returned to their breakfast.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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aliceinborderlandsquidgame · 2 days ago

Text

Ignored | Salesman x Wife!Reader

Summary: He knows his work can take much of his time. But the worse punishment its being ignored by you.

Warnings: Possessive!Salesman - Angry!Salesman - Violent!Salesman - Sad!Salesman - Manipulation - Toxic!Relationship - Suggestive - Grammar mistakes -

It was true. He had started to leave earlier and came home late. He was tensed, tired and angry. Everytime he had to face these excuse of humans made his blood boild.

But he was good, too good at it. And the money he got from it was a big amount. Enough to give you, his dear wife the life you have always deserve.

Splendind nights out, visists to the most precious places, fashion clothes and precious little details (expensive ones). He loved to pampper you in them. He could not help himself but pull his card out the moment he saw you looking at something. It was a reflex, even when you tell him that its not necesary he still insists.

If you want a private Island then he would do his job three times or even more times better.

You ask and he does. Thats how it works. The only thing he expects from you its to be at home when he comes. To get him with a delicious dinner, your soft voice making the stress go away. You would make him lay down on your lap as you play with his hair and tell him sweet nothings. Its almost unfair how much of a effect you have on him.

However, this past days these things have not been happening. Did food wait for him when he returned ? Yes. Where you there with open arms to ease him ? No.

It had started slow, you giving him simple responses when he talked to you. Mornings when you would say you were too tired leaving him to not really enjoy the shower missing your body against his. Not responding his messages or calls (He almost killed the next person he had to recruit when your voice email sounded back).

And at home you would give him the cold shoulder. Your attention on a book (that he got you and now he wants to burn) or your phone (that he hacks and sees what you are doing).

Honestly he is started to get tired of this. He has lots of patience with you. He loves you, in a insane way. But he cant help but feel...bad. The feeling makes him want to vomit because how the object of his love and adoration, the one he crafted and made a live with just...ignores him?

Yes he knows he can be difficult at times. He tries his best so you only see his good part. But this is ridiculous, no one would dare to disrespect him like that.

There is a centrain charm on your way of going against him. But he does not like it. He prefers the doting wife. The one who showers with love and affection. Not...this.

"We need to talk" Are his words on friday night after a long day recruiting and a cold and lonely shower.

He is quiet angry.

"Im reading" You said back not bothering to look up from your book.

Alright, now he is pissed.

He takes some steps towards you, his taller frame casting a shadow over you as he takes the book from you rather harshly.

"We need to talk, and we will" He says in a cold tone, making sure to mark the page you were reading before taking your arm and pulling you towards the bedroom.

The light blue walls and the big bed welcomes you as he throws you on the bed. Under other circunstances this would mean a good time, but with the look he is giving you right now, its not. Its a look you have never seen before, a look that sends shivers down your spine as he closes the door with a click and starts to walk around. Arms crossed as he fakes to think.

"What?" You ask seeing him go to the wardrobe and for the safebox pulling out a smaller box. He pulled out a syringe and a bottle with some transparent liquid.

"Dear...you are scaring me"

"Scaring you?" He asked with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "My Love, you should never be scared of me. I just want to talk" He did answer once more getting closer to her syringe in hand.

"Then for what is that-"

"Because I need to understand Love. I need to understand whats going on with you" He says anger in his tone. "You have been ignoring me for the past few weeks. Me, the Man of your life. Who gives your the world and does everytning so you dont have to lift a single finger"

One hand traces your face doing down to your neck giving it a grip.

"I work so hard, for you. I just ask for you attention. But you cant even give me that" He says pushing you down on the bed the syringe now close to your neck.

"Is there someone else ? Have you lost your love for me ? Im not enough now ?" He ask the syringe inches from your skin.

"N-no, please let me explain" You said tears falling

He does not move but gives a small nod so you can talk

"I...I was stupid. I started to feel like your work was more important. You have always be with me. You make time for me and we pass our days together. And then you...you start to leave earlier and be home late. You...you look different every time you get back. I thought..that if I did not give you my attention you would stop. But I never saw how much I was hurting you"

He does not move for a few seconds letting the words sink in. Then he leaves the syringe on the nightstand. He cleans off your tears kissing them.

"Oh my dear sweet wife. How could you be so dumb? My work would never be more important than you" He makes you sit on his lap as he moves you like a small creature.

"I have been under so much stress...and so much work. Im sorry I should have tell you. Last thing i wanted was to get ignored by you and hurt you. Not that I would ever do it"

Well, if you were seeing another men or women then yes. He would hurt you so much. You would be calling his name and only his. Never daring to think on going behind his back.

Much like right now. He is sure you would never ever again ignore him. Not after that scared he gave you. He still feels you trembling in his arms and its almost arousing to him.

Fear. Such a primal feeling. He loved being the one behind it. The face that was associated with the word.

"Shh my love. Its ok, we are ok. You wont ignore me again and now you know there is nothing more important than you" He whispers biting your ear.

"That syringe..."

He laughts, a well faked one.

"Do you really think I would ever hurt you my Love?" Yes, yes he would. If it did mean you staying with him and obeying him. "That was a bad joke on my side. My apologizes" He gives you a big kiss on your cheeck. "Lets order some food, we can watch a movie too and call it a night"

He sees you nod but before you can move he holds you in place one finger pointing at his lips.

You kiss him, not giving him much pressure but he is not letting you go that easy. He forces his tongue inside your mouth, tangles it with yours, his hips moves making you feel him growing hard under you. One hand presses your neck guiding your face as he leaves your lips and trails kisses down your neck and collarbone.

"Im almost temped to dich food and just have you" His tone is dark, possessive as he kisses you once more. "But I know you must be starving so we can save that for later"

You wont ever know that syringe did have a powerfull sleep drug...to make you unable to escape him if that was your plan.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

How He feels. VS. How He acts.

#squid game imagines #squid game x y/n #suicide squad imagine #squid game x reader #squid game x you #salesman x reader #recruiter x reader

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anakinstwinklebunny · 1 day ago

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ANAKIN SKYWALKER HEADCANONS

Author's note: this may be.. different

Anakin Skywalker who has an incredible long-term memory but an awful short-term memory. He is the type to remember something from years ago in painstaking detail—like the exact color of your dress the first time he saw you or a specific phrase you once said that made him laugh—but completely forget why he walked into a room five seconds ago.

He’d be so frustrated with himself, too:

«I can rebuild an entire podracer from memory, but I can’t remember where I put my damn lightsaber five minutes ago!»

If you would just tease him about it, his lips would twist into a pout;

“Well, at least I remembered the anniversary of our first kiss.” (Cue him smugly crossing his arms while you roll your eyes.)

Anakin Skywalker who has a diary that he writes in with a glittery gel pen;

He’d sit cross-legged on his bed in the quarters, hunched over the journal with the sparkly pen in hand, writing furiously:

«Mission Log: Obi-Wan still doesn’t get it. He says I’m reckless, but who saved his ass again today? Oh, right, me. Also, y/n smiled at me when I said goodbye, and I’m not saying it means anything, but maybe it does. Anyway, I need a new purple pen—this one’s running out of glitter ink.»

Anakin Skywalker's diary would be filled with doodles of podracers, little hearts around your name, and the occasional rant about sand;

Humming softly, he bent over the page, scrawling your name in his bold, messy handwriting. He frowned, mumbling under his breath about his uneven letters before shrugging it off. Next to your name, he started to doodle little hearts, as if each colorful heart was the show of his affection. Pink, silver, gold—he used every glittery color he had, filling the margin with love-struck decorations.

He paused, tapping the pen against his lips thoughtfully before scribbling, «You’re my favorite everything», right under your name. The ink shimmered in the dim light, catching his eye in a way that made him grin.

He felt ridiculous, like some love-struck teenager, but he didn’t care. This was for you, even if you’d never see it. A quiet, glittery tribute to the person who made the galaxy feel a little less dark.

A soft knock startled him, and his head snapped up, his heart skipping when your voice came through the door.

“Anakin? You still awake?”

Scrambling, he slapped the diary shut and stuffed it under his pillow, cheeks burning as he tried to change his expression into something casual. “Uh, yeah! Just… meditating!”

When the door slid open and you stepped in, his breath hitched. You were in your sleepwear, hair slightly tousled, and that soft smile on your face made him melt. You tilted your head, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Meditating, huh? With glitter on your fingers?”

He looked down, cursing under his breath at the sparkling pink smudge across his thumb. “Uh… yeah, it’s a new technique.”

Anakin Skywalker who has a sketchbook, where he draws A LOT of things. Podraces, you, ships, speeders, random people on the street

Anakin Skywalker who once brought you flowers after a mission;

He trudged through the Jedi Temple’s halls, boots barely making a sound on the polished floor as he fidgets with the bouquet in his hands. Well, bouquet was a generous term. It was more of a sorry-looking cluster of flowers, their once-vibrant petals now limp and pale, some barely clinging to their stems. A petal fluttered to the ground just as he took another step, and he stopped mid-step to glare at it, like he could will it back into place.

He groaned softly, running a hand through his messy curls, smearing a streak of dirt across his cheek. This had seemed like a good idea earlier. Why does everything he does fall apart before it even gets to you? His pout deepened as he plucked out the most shriveled flower, tossing it to the side with a defeated sigh.

Finally, he reached your chambers. Standing outside the door, he took a deep breath, smoothing down his tunic with his free hand and rearranging the flowers one last time. Maybe if he held them at just the right angle, you wouldn’t notice the sorry state they were in.

The door slid open, and there you were, rubbing sleep from your eyes, your expression softening the second you saw him.

“Ani?” you murmured, stepping aside to let him in.

His voice was unusually sheepish as he held out the flowers, eyes darting everywhere but your face.

“I, uh… I picked these for you. On my mission. But, um… they didn’t exactly survive the wait.”

You looked down at the wilted bouquet in his calloused hands, a few petals already scattered on the floor at his boots.

“They’re perfect,” you said softly, reaching for the flowers.

He blinked, pout fading into something almost hopeful. “You don’t have to say that. They look terrible—”

You cut him off with a kiss, lips pressing to his tenderly, hands resting on his chest. He stiffened for half a second before melting into you, his arms wrapping around your waist, the bouquet forgotten as it dangled by his side.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” you whispered against his lips, kissing him again for good measure.

He huffed, but his cheeks were pink, his free hand gently stroking your back. “I just… wanted you to know I was thinking about you. Even while I was out there. I saw them and thought you’d like them.”

“I love them,” you assured him, cradling his face in your hands, thumbs brushing over the dirt smudges on his cheek. “And I love you for bringing them to me, even if it meant walking through the Temple like this in the middle of the night.”

Anakin Skywalker who sneaked out with you to lower levels of coruscant;

As you passed by a flower stall, the vibrant colors caught his attention. He paused, eyes scanning the rows of flowers, before reaching out and plucking two purple blooms—one light lavender, the other a deep, rich violet.

“Perfect,” he murmured to himself, flashing you a smile as he walked back to you, holding the flowers gently.

“Here,” he tucked the lighter lavender flower behind your ear. Fingers lingered on your skin just for a moment, a little touch, a little enough to make your heart skip a beat. You giggled softly, cheeks flushing.

He grinned mischievously, then slid the darker flower into the breast pocket of his jacket. "For me," voice low, teasing.

You stared at him, smile widening as the warmth spread through you. “Now, that’s a perfect match,” you whispered, giggling.

“Mm-hmm,” the grin on his face stretched even wider. You could see the mischief dancing in his eyes, the way his lips curved up as if to say, «this is my favorite moment ever»

“Got it,” you said with a laugh, pressing your hands together like you were taking a picture in the air.

Anakin's face softened for a moment, and then a gleam sparkled in his eyes. “Wait, wait,” he said, holding his hands in front of him like he was about to snap a photo, just like you did. He mimicked your pose, grinning widely “Got it,” he repeated with a smirk.

Anakin Skywalker who as a young baby used to give you flowers from Jedi temple garden;

“This is for you!” he’d chirp, holding the flower up as if it were the most precious gift in the galaxy.

You’d kneel down to his level, heart melting into a puddle at how shyly he’d avert his gaze, cheeks tinged pink. “For me? It’s beautiful, Ani.”

His smile widened, bright enough to rival with the Coruscant sun. “I thought it’d look pretty on you,” he’d mumble before stepping closer, his small fingers fumbling to tuck it behind your ear.

Affection swelled in your chest as his fingers brushed against your skin, before he’d pull back to inspect his handiwork with thoughtful expression. “There,” he’d declare softly, looking utterly pleased with himself.

Your little arms would wrap tightly around his neck, voice muffled against his shoulder. “Thank you, Ani. You’re my favorite Jedi, you know that?”

“You’re my favorite everything.”

Anakin Skywalker who would eat most of your food he'd find in your chambers

Anakin Skywalker who smells like vanilla

Anakin Skywalker who loves when you stroke his back in the morning while he's still sleepy and just nuzzling to his pillow;

Soft, golden glow of the sunrise gently filtered through the curtains in your chambers , casting a gentle illumination across the side of the room. Anakin laid sprawled across the bed, body entangled in sheets. His breathing was slow and steady, tousled curls sticking to his forehead in a mix of shadows cast by the night and the faint morning light. You, propped up on one arm, tenderly stroked his back, fingertips gliding over his skin while time to time pressing gentle kisses to his bare shoulder. The sensation stirred his body slightly, and he shifted beneath your touch, acting like a contented puppy who curled up to enjoy the affection.

his words laced with a lazy, sleepy drawl. "Don’t stop," he murmured, a soft groan escaping his lips with his eyes remaining closed. With a gentle smile, you continued your gentle caresses, tracing small circles across his back, watching him shift and sigh while his muscles relaxed under your touch.

But as you took your hand away to change your position, he stirred once more, rolling onto his side to face you. His eyes were half-lidded and clouded with the remnants of sleep, a soft, pleading expression in his tone. "C'mon... more... please," his hand reaching out towards you, pulling you closer, fingers grazing along the sheets. You let out a soft chuckle, but without hesitation, drew closer to him and your hand shot out to find itself in his curls. With delicate fingers, you ran them through the soft strands, lightly massaging his scalp, causing a small hitch in his breath.

Anakin Skywalker who read tons of books, watched a lot of videos about gardening all to make you proud that he could seed tulips and make them grow

Anakin Skywalker who secretly sips on your coffee, always muttering that «sharing is caring»

Anakin Skywalker who makes «your mom» jokes

Anakin Skywalker who constantly hacks their stats in every video game he plays

Anakin Skywalker who uses the word «fuck» like a comma.

Anakin Skywalker who definitely has a roblox account and even though he's a softie, he bullies some kids there;

He logs in with the most ridiculous username, something like DarthSlayer69, and his avatar is over-the-top—dark cape, glowing red eyes, and a lightsaber accessory. He’s spent way too much time customizing it because, of course, he has to look intimidating.

And then? He enters some innocent game like Adopt Me! or Brookhaven and immediately starts causing mayhem.

"Get off my property, kid," he types in the chat, standing in front of a house he didn’t even buy.

In Tower of Hell, he’d purposely push people off platforms, then type: "Too slow. Guess you weren’t strong enough."

If anyone dared to clap back, he’d go full into fighting back; "Do you know who I am? I’ve fought in wars. You’re just a noob with bad Wi-Fi."

When you walk into the room while he’s cackling at his antics, you took one look at the screen, and roll your eyes.

"Anakin, are you bullying children again?"

"No, angel, I’m teaching them a valuable lesson." He'd say too smugly

Anakin Skywalker who uses two-in-one shampoo and conditioner yet still has the softest hair ever, which obviously makes you mad because you have to use tons of products to make your hair look decent.

Anakin Skywalker who fixes your lightsaber too often;

Anakin leaned back against the workbench, arms crossed over his chest, as he watched you sheepishly place your lightsaber in front of him. His expression was equal parts of amused and exasperated

"Again?" he drawled, raising an eyebrow.

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze as you fiddled with the hem of your tunic. "It... broke."

"It broke," he repeated, tone dripping with mock disbelief. He picked up the hilt, turning it over in his hands like inspecting some troublesome droid. "No, sweetheart, you broke it. What did you do this time? Smash it against a rock? Use it to pry open a door?"

"I didn’t!" you protested, immediately crossing your arms in self-defense. "I was fighting, and—"

"And you lost control," he finished for you, shaking his head with a chuckle. "You know, lightsabers are meant for precision. Not..." He gestured vaguely, as if mimicking you wildly flailing the weapon around.

Your face flushed at that, and you jabbed a finger at him. "Are you going to fix it or just stand there and tease me all day, Master Skywalker?"

At the sound of his full title, he grinned, as if it alone was enough to satisfy his ego. Setting the hilt down on the bench, he reached for his tools. "Oh, I’ll fix it. Like I always do. But you know..." He shot you a sly glance. Uh, oh.."If you keep this up, I’m going to start charging you."

"Charging me?" You blinked, incredulous. "With what? We don’t even use credits in the Order!"

He leaned in closer, smirk deepening. "Not credits, sweetheart. Favors." his eyes roamed down and up your body

Your stomach did a little flip "Favors?"

He nodded, picking up a small tool and starting to carefully disassemble the damaged saber. "Mm-hmm. Maybe you take over my chores for a week. Or you could cook dinner for once instead of ordering ration packs. Or..." He set the tool down and leaned in again, voice dropping to a near-whisper, eyes darting down to your lips. "You could just kiss me every time you break it."

you scoffed "That’s a ridiculous system," you muttered, but you didn’t pull away when he leaned even closer

"Is it?" he murmured, breath warm against your skin. "Seems fair to me. I put in the work, and I get a little reward."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face. "Fine," you relented, leaning in to close the distance between you. Your lips brushed against his in a soft, quick peck, and you felt him smile against you.

When you finally pulled back, he looked far too pleased with himself.

"See?" tone smug. "Much better payment than credits."

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olivialivvy17 · 2 days ago

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Racing to the beat - Daniel Ricciardo³

summary: Daniel gets a new teammate in VCRB, a F2 female championship winner for the 2025 season. What he didn't expect was her to be extremely genz and a kpop fan.

pairing: fem rookie driver!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

AU: Social media!AU and Written!AU

warnings: mentions of anxiety, swearing, use of yn, hate comments, reader is 25.

face claim: Amna Al Qubaisi for professional f1 photos, the rest are from pinterest.

wc: 837

a/n: hi guyssss. okay most of the details in the first part may not be accurate. I tried describing the way I saw it on the singapore gp '24 (dannys last race </3). so yeah pls forgive me for that. okay enjoy and I love youuuu <33

part three <prev. next>

Hands trembling as you sit up from the car seat, knees buckling trying to carefully step out the sizzling car. Taking the polite mechanic's hand to stabilize yourself as your other foot lands on the hard concrete of Parc Ferme. With quivering fingers, you snatch off the gloves from your clammy hands, stuffing them into the race suit pockets.

In the background fireworks cracked and boomed, their echoes rolling across the sky like thunderous applause, but to your ears the sound was just a muffle as you took off the helmet that's been squeezing your face for the past two hours. Yanking off the white balaclava and finally taking in a deep breath of unfortunately stuffy air. Taking the back of your hand and wiping off the sweat that's formed on your hairline and eyebrows, fixing blindly any flyaways that might have formed.

After taking a moment to fix yourself up and come down from the high a bit, you finally look around to take in your surroundings. Seeing many mechanics bustling around the cars that arrived before you, the colorfully lit up podium with the race winners and the screaming and thrilled fans on the side. Pulling you out the adrenaline clouded mind was the sound of Kimis voice.

“You did so well!” Kimi exclaimed in excitement as he wrapped his arms around you while holding his helmet

Encircling your own arms around him and giving his back a couple of pats, “You did amazing too! I'm honestly so proud of us” you told him in a triumphant tone.

Kimi has been by your side throughout all of your F3 and F2 days. Even though he’s younger than you, he always treated your friendship like you were his peer. Sure you did treat him a little bit like he was your little brother, but never to the point of babying him so much. Kimi is a spectacular driver and you always make sure to show him that.

Walking side by side, you two made your way away from the cars. Waving and saying ‘Congrats’ or ‘Good race’ to other drivers, all with a polite smile. While unzipping your track suit, desperate to have it peeled off your overheating body, your eyes land on the back of a familiar curly headed man. Excusing yourself to Kimi and telling him you’ll find him later, you saunter to the Honey Badger.

Gently placing your hand on his back as you approached him, “Great race Danny” you follow with a proud smile as you stand by him, body turned fully to him.

Your praise was met with one of those Daniel smiles. Ear to ear, pearly whites on display as his eyes crinkled like the delicate folds of a butterfly’s wings, soft and tender. His raw, bright energy wraps around your heart and mind like a breath of fresh air. Making all the worries and doubts dissipate effortlessly.

“You were remarkable Yn”, he lauded as his hand comfortably made its way to your shoulder “I told you everything is gonna go well”

You nodded softly in agreement, “Yeah you were right.” as a quiet chuckle leaves your lips “Although I was shaking a little as I exited the car, I guess that's just adrenaline.”

Just as Daniel was about to say something, he was interrupted by a supervisor that informed you both had to go and give the post race interviews. Scurrying you off the paddock and to the little interview area.

“Hold me back if they start asking some ridiculous or sexist questions, because I swear I’ll swing” you said half jokingly, but it was obvious you were more serious.

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly “I got you, don’t worry. I might swing before you do”

You snorted in response as you approached the interviewer– Lawrence Barreto. That's when the nerves crept back up. Okay, yeah its valid to be anxious about being interviewed for the first time in formula one– you tell yourself. All you have to do is not embarrass yourself by saying something stupid.

“Yn! Welcome and congrats on a fantastic first F1 race!” Lawrence exclaimed in that journalist voice, while you fidget with your awfully damp hands “How does it feel?” he asks, putting the microphone to your lips

“Uuhh well it’s definitely a lot” you chuckle sheepishly “but it’s such an ecstatic feeling. Being able to race side by side with so many talented and experienced drivers. Driving the same track as the championship winners, I’m truly so grateful and thankful to be here today and to have the opportunity to show the world that hard work, skill and dreams don’t know gender. That with enough passion and strength you can achieve anything you put your mind to”, finishing your honest and heartfelt answer with a beaming smile. Feeling the way your heart hammered against your ribs, like it wants to rip through your chest.

What you didn’t notice was the way Daniel beamed with pride as he watched you give the statement.

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ynusername thank you Australia! first race and omg it was thrilling! (thank you Danny for the encouraging words🫶🏻🥹)

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bestfriend THATS MY GIRLLLLLLL🫶🏻🫶🏻❤️❤️

user19 mhm, yeah mother ate 🙂‍↕️☝🏻

user20 I was literally screaming every time her car came up on the screen

kimi.antonelli my big sis🥹

ynusername stop I'm gonna cry😭

user2 they are so siblings, I love them

user21 oh I know Yn babies him

kimi.antonelli she does...

ynusername correct because you're still just a baby

alex_albon yeah kimi, you're still a baby

ynusername thank you Alex🙏🏻

jackdoohan Congrats Yn! ❤️

ynusername we did so well 🙏🏻🫶🏻

visacashapprb Very proud of our rookie!

ynusername thank you team for putting up with my singing while practicing (ik yall enjoyed it)

user22 I dare you to fuck up her car. I will unleash my wrath upon you

user23 I just know Yns team has so much fun with her

danielricciardo 🤍🤍🤍

ynusername 🤍🤍🤍

ynusername posted a story

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ynusername you guys these parties are not for the faint of heart (I don't remember going back to the hotel) :p

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alex_albon mate you were gone gone

ynusername im so gonna get bullied by the whole grid, aren't I? 😭

georgerussell63 oh yes rookie, I have so much blackmail material

ynusername this is not fair

lando I made the cut, let's goooooooo

ynusername thanks for putting on good music :3

lando always at service 🫡

user24 THE TOTO PIC, LITERALLY DIED

user25 forever grateful for drunk yn posting that

user26 okay body and hair tea😩

danielricciardo Kimi and I safely delivered you to your hotel room

kimi.antonelli I can confirm, you almost lost your heels out the club

ynusername thank you my pookies 🫶🏻 drunk me is very thankful

user27 oh to have such caring friends 😔

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel ricciardo #dr3 #formula 1 #f1 social media au #f1 smau #instagram au #smau

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animamii · 2 days ago

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lockedup!Toji loves his Honeybuns

The phone rang just as you were settling onto the couch, a mug of tea in your hands and a show playing faintly in the background. You glanced at the caller ID, already knowing who it was. With a small smile, you picked up, bracing yourself for whatever Toji had cooked up this time. After accepting the call, hearing that way too long trill, you finally get to speak.

"Hello?" you greeted, feigning nonchalance. Although every phone call from Toji has you giggling and kicking your feet, let's be reallll.

"Hey, princess," Toji's deep voice rumbled through the line, warm and familiar despite the scratchy sound of the prison phone. "Whatcha doin’?"

You rolled your eyes, though the grin tugging at your lips betrayed your fondness. "Just relaxing. What about you? Playing king of the yard or something?"

Toji chuckled lowly. "Nah, nah. Somethin’ like that, though. Listen, baby girl, I gotta ask you for somethin’ real important."

You tilted your head, immediately curious. "Important, huh? What is it this time? A file baked into a cake? Need me to smuggle something in my mouth then tongue kiss it into yours?"

"Close," he quipped. "But nah, just a few more honeybuns."

"Honeybuns?" You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you. "Are you serious? Didn’t I just send you a whole box last week?"

"Yeah, and they’re gone," Toji said, completely unapologetic. "Ate most of 'em the minute they cleared it and gave it to me. Besides, those things are gold in here."

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the couch. "Gold? What, are you trading them for favors or something?"

"Don’t worry ‘bout that," he replied, his tone light but teasing. "Just know your man’s gotta keep his stash stocked. You wouldn’t wanna see me suffer without my sugar fix, would you?"

"You're unbelievable," you teased, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see it. "But fine. I’ll send more. Anything else while I’m at it? Chips? Cookies? A five-course meal?"

"Nah, just the honeybuns," Toji said, and you could practically hear the grin in his voice. "You’re the best, princess. Knew I could count on you."

"Yeah, yeah," you said with mock exasperation. "You’re lucky I like you so much."

"Damn right, I’m lucky," he replied smoothly. "I’ll make it up to you when I get out, I swear. Dinner, a movie—whatever you want. Just me and you, baby."

Your heart softened at his words, a small smile creeping onto your face. "I’m holding you to that, Toji. No excuses."

"Deal," he said without hesitation. "But for now, just keep those honeybuns comin’, alright? They’re the only thing sweeter than you in here."

You rolled your eyes again, though your cheeks warmed at the cheesy line. "Alright, alright. I’ll send them out tomorrow. But you owe me, big time."

"I always owe you, princess," he said, his tone softening. "You’re the reason I get through this mess."

Your chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice. No matter how much trouble he got into, no matter how ridiculous his requests, you couldn’t help but love him for moments like this.

"Stay out of trouble, okay?" you said gently.

"Can’t make any promises," he replied with a chuckle. "But I’ll try. Love you, baby girl."

"Love you too, Toji. I’ll talk to you soon."

As the call ended, you found yourself smiling down at your phone, already mentally adding honeybuns to your shopping list. For all his tough exterior and troublemaking ways, Toji had a soft spot that only you got to see.

Later that evening, as you wandered the aisles of the grocery store, you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, remembering his unapologetic confession about devouring the last box. You grabbed not one but two boxes of honeybuns this time, thinking about how his face would light up—well, as much as it could under the circumstances—when he got them.

The cashier gave you a curious look as they scanned your purchases. "Big fan of honeybuns?" they asked with a smile.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Not me. Someone special."

And special he was, even if he had a knack for driving you crazy with his antics. As you packed up your bags and headed home, you realized that, despite the distance and the challenges, you’d do just about anything to keep Toji smiling—even if it meant being his personal honeybun supplier.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆

I'm literally addicted to locked up Toji rn what can I say I love a hot felon ughhh

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epickiya722 · 12 hours ago

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When I tell you I'm so sick of this.

Yes, yes, Bakugou used to be his bully and all that yadda yadda. Oh my gosh, wow, a bully in the story! How dare such a thing exists!

Okay, stop clutching your pearls. Even Bakugou knew he was a total ass and it's not something he ever got away with like that, let alone he does grow up, so chill.

But if you're gonna go that route, throwing Todoroki in there to be like "it makes sense to pair them instead" is kind of strange because even though Todoroki didn't bully Midoriya, they did still immediately start on the wrong foot. I mean, Todoroki could have killed Midoriya in their match but I don't see people going "I don't understand how people can ship them, it doesn't make sense to me when Todoroki could have seriously killed Midoriya that one time".

I have seen people ship Midoriya with characters worse than Bakugou, but OMG, it's their ship that gets tackled on the most and at this point, I see it as a trend.

I see it as someone has to do because they're a follower.

Honestly, it's just getting ridiculous.

If the ship doesn't make sense to you, it doesn't make sense to you, who cares? But posting about it like this and then tagging it, doesn't do anything good.

No one who has caught up with the anime and manga would post about the ship in a rather negative way would be "it doesn't make sense to ship them".

"What if they aren't caught up?"

Even so, does it need to make sense? Is it an actual necessity for someone to have a ship to make sense if at the end of the day they're just entertained by the mere thought of it and not bothering you about it?

Take it from someone who ships Miruko and Burnin and is her favorite MHA ship at this time. We ain't see them have no onscreen interaction. That didn't stop me though and going "Hey, I think you two would look cute together".

There are ships in this fandom that have a way worse relationship in canon and still people ship them.

"I see art that depicts them being cute together." Okay, so and? Are you losing HP from it like some video game character that has yet to move out the lava? Do you grow a horn every time you see cute ship art of it? It's not the only ship drawn out there being cute together. It's not like there aren't cute moments in canon for them. Then stop looking at the art. Why are you looking at the art? If you keep seeing BakuDeku art, clearly... you're in the area. Probably on purpose.

I know if I keep seeing art of a ship I don't like it's a me problem because I have the choices to not follow certain people, block the tag, etc.

Maybe you shouldn't be in the MHA fandom at all given the amount of art for them anyways that's official.

Look, I'm not bothered by someone not liking Bakudeku. Could really give zero crap about it, honestly. I have ships I don't like either.

But what bothers me is posting about it, attacking the ship and tagging it.

We all have our opinions and I believe, good or bad, post about them.

However, people do shit like this and then mask it as "having an opinion" when really they probably want to start drama.

"But, Kiya, what if they're not trying to start drama? What if they don't know the proper way to tag?"

I call bullshit and I don't care. Oh, yes, I sound like a bitch, but let's be real here.

Stuff like this happens no matter where. It doesn't just happen on Tumblr. People have done this over and over and over to the point that it is hard to believe that person isn't trying to start anything.

New or not, people by now should know that if they're going to say something negative about a ship, don't draw in the shippers.

If this person didn't want to start drama then why bring TodoDeku into this? "Make it make sense." That right there is a sign of "I'm starting drama". Uh, people do happen to ship TodoDeku. I even ship it. It's not like people don't at all in the fandom ship them and only ship BakuDeku, so stop.

It's not like this person or anybody who does this is genuinely asking and do what to know because maybe they are genuinely curious and/or considering the ship but first wants to know more about it.

No, they're just being hostile. This is not an opinion. It's an attack disguised as one.

If you don't like the ship, okay. But if you're going to post about it, don't tag it.

This isn't even about BakuDeku only anymore. I see this with ships that don't even have anything wrong with them and in different fandoms. It's tiring, it's annoying and just takes the fun out of shipping.

#like really who gives a flying FUCK about the ship 'making sense'?#does it need to? no it doesn't #I'm sorry but i have run out of patience with people like this #kid adult people who do this no matter the age are annoying #let stop giving them passes about it #blocked you're blocked #just kiya's thoughts #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakudeku #dekubaku #bkdk #dkbk

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catenary-chad · 10 hours ago

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Exhaustively long headcanon post about train social dynamics. This isn’t even everything and half the sections are some degree of “it depends on country/region/time period”. It doesn’t even go into the toy aspect much, that’s an entire separate dimension I actually really like to use as a metaphor for government/corporate decisions (and it’s funny to think of a realistic explanation for ridiculous toy train setups)

Typical disclaimer that these are largely based on modern irl train politics, economics, and dynamics and skew US-heavy because it’s what I know best (but also goes into some international variations). Some things expand on and complement canon, some things totally chuck it out the window. If you’d like me to elaborate on something or go into something not discussed here I’m generally happy to.

GENERAL STUFF

-divisions are more akin to careers than permanent social castes. Conversions are stupid common with trains, and you can turn almost anything into anything if you try hard enough, though the extremes gone to varies between countries and economic conditions. It may be harder to transition away from some things than others but it’s rarely fully impossible and a lot of countries have heavy traditions of repurposing rail equipment until it’s really run into the ground. A decent comparison is that turning a baggage car into a generator car is akin to an engineer changing disciplines (not trivial but not that hard), trying to repurpose a steam engine is more akin to retraining someone who’s been a coal miner for decades (not impossible but vastly harder)

-Broadly speaking, engines and non-powered rolling stock have a leader/follower dynamic (technically canon per Michal Fraley’s book), with Control like a cruel, fickle, almost omnipotent god (or government or megacorp). Multi-units are more egalitarian and less hierarchical but usually still have someone taking the lead and guiding things. It’s very common for MUs to be converted to non-powered coaches or run temporarily unpowered, and the opposite also isn’t unheard of. Old engines being turned into unpowered control cabs is also very common (and many coaches are capable of it too). It’s… as cursed as it sounds tbh. There’s a lot of possession with trains but it’s generally done consensually and just kind of an accepted thing among them most of the time. I think train psychic battles and playing around with MU issues is criminally underrated for how entertaining it can be (mechanics talk of “demon possession” caused by accidentally plugging engines into themselves and incompatibility between systems can be an issue irl)

-Locomotives are rarely in long term romantic relationships because they move around so much. Also goes for most train cars too. It’s more likely the smaller the line is, or the less engines and cars are shuffled around. Closer relationships of any kind are more common with rolling stock that consistently works together, otherwise most are more casually friendly or affectionate with everyone. Power cars permanently coupled to trainsets often have polycule situations. Monogamy is rare outside of “married pair” multi units, polycules of 3+ are more common.

-There are many things that vary between equipment and affect their compatibility and “orientation” and none of them really align with human gender or sex. It’s more stuff like coupling type, type of electrical source or even need for it, types of brakes, loading gauge, etc. To no surprise I’m happy to play fast and loose with basically every character being genderblind.

NON-POWERED ROLLING STOCK (AND PASSENGER VS FREIGHT DIVISIONS)

-There is a STRONG sense of comradery and disdain for leadership among most freight cars. Strong parallels to union presence in rail with how they can’t do much as individuals, but CAN push things around as a huge group and use safety in numbers. They don’t inherently hate engines, but tend to be hostile towards them if they can’t cooperate and work with each other. There’s also similar sentiment among coaches.

-There isn’t a hard class divide between types of rolling stock, for most things you have wild variation even within the same country. For every luxury passenger train there’s dozens of underfunded subways, obscure mine trains shuttling workers underground, or overcrowded local trains in south Asia. Freight tends to have a higher floor and lower ceiling since it’s generally a more profitable business (but you also don’t really have freight equivalents of the Orient Express). I have a really hard time going along with the coaches=rich freight=working class thing because in my mind pink collar vs blue collar is more accurate to their actual status. Both are important but one often needs to be externally subsidized due to being so devalued in capitalist systems (see teaching and childcare, care jobs in general), while the other tends to be relatively well-paid but struggle with issues like unreasonable working conditions and hours. The fortunes of freight rail also tend to closely follow heavy industry and blue collar jobs in general. Passenger rail politics vs actual labor conditions are… a lot less closely connected, at least in the US, so I err on the side of basing them on the equipment vs worker side (they’d also end up mostly male if I did that and this show does not need that)

-Passenger and freight interests tend to clash to various degrees in different places, but there isn’t an inherent hard divide between coaches and freight. Mixed trains have existed, cars get repurposed a lot, and baggage cars get rebuilt into so many things they’re downright transient. Fast freight (reefer cars, mail, etc) tend to be closer to coaches than say, massive mineral hoppers, which are probably the furthest removed because they just wouldn’t interact much. But it’s very much a spectrum vs binary. How deep the divide is between them varies a lot on country and region, somewhere like North America is so freight-oriented that there’s a massive cultural gap on Class I railroads and they virtually live on different planets vs the Northeast Corridor. Shortlines tend to be a lot less divided since they have more mixed traffic with less conflict.

-Freight vs passenger engines are the same, divisions were generally stronger in the steam era when designs were more specifically designs for one or the other (or were deliberately mixed-traffic) but less so now. Yes, there are dedicated high speed trains that would never be used for freight service, but when it comes to independent diesel or electric locomotives, a lot of them readily cross over. Many ex-express engines end up working on fast freight trains, especially in Europe, and freight-oriented engines usually work fine for slower passenger service as long as you have some way to supply power to the cars (see Metra and their SD70s)

-Usually rolling stock drops down vs climbs the ladder as they get outclassed, how they feel about this varies a lot. Tends to go express>freight or commuter>switching, backup, and maintenance, but in times of desperation sometimes they will rise back up (see the history of the GG1s). Despite this, there is generally a strong respect for elders and experience, lasting for 30+ years and seeing all kinds of history firsthand is widely admired. Though the line is usually drawn when they start getting TOO backwards and change/improvement-averse or genuinely can’t keep up with their duties. That’s when it goes to “yeah buddy we’d both be better off if you moved to a shortline or tourist place that’s more your speed”

TRACTION TYPES

-Steam engines are best compared to the Amish. They just aren’t relevant to larger society, but they get disproportionate media recognition and outsiders are kind of fascinated by them but really don’t want to join them when they learn how the bad old days really were. As long as they don’t push wildly out of touch and regressive ideas like “let’s roll more coal screw global warming!” or cause trouble on major thoroughfares (ala buggies on highways lol) other trains just kind of don’t care what they do off in their own heritage sphere. By FAR the most individualistic because they’re much harder to double-head and have been historically incentivized to do things alone, but there are exceptions (PRR K4s frequently worked in pairs and trios, at least a few steam engines have been fitted with basic MU controls). Fireless engines are even rarer but seen more like mule drivers in the Grand Canyon- they have a dated job/approach but it really is the best fit for specific environments. Amusement park steam engines (amusement park trains in general tbh) tend to live in total fantasy worlds… because they literally do. Frustrating to talk to but also really funny because they think fairytales and Western movies are unironically real because it’s all they’ve known (unless they were a rebuilt historical engine).

-Electric trains are sometimes stereotyped as invincible superheroes in non-electrified areas, but they’re more akin to whales. Basically unbeatable in the right environment but also VERY vulnerable to external threats (mainly infrastructure neglect in their case). College educated professionals are also a very good comparison- they’re often written off as elitist and theoretical (and electric-oriented railfans seem to skew more technically educated/nerdy), but they’re far more attainable and pedestrian in places where governments actually fund things and rhetoric against them smacks of anti-intellectualism. How pedestrian vs alien they are wildly varies between countries and regions, in Switzerland non-electric trains are nearly unthinkable, in the US they’re treated as “liberal delusion”. There tends to be a strong sense of solidarity among electric trains since they usually benefit/suffer from the same conditions regardless of if they’re subways, commuter trains, or long distance or work for rival companies. How powerful vs vulnerable they are is also very regional, in places like the US and UK with longstanding infrastructure problems they are seen as troubled, delicate, and restricted. In better maintained systems like mainland Europe or Japan it’s just kind of expected that things will work, like how you probably don’t worry about the power going off and losing your freezer food.

-Attitudes towards diesel traction varies even MORE wildly but the best summary of them is “pragmatic, versatile, conservative”. In sprawling places where companies/governments don’t like to pay for things up front, they’re accepted as the norm and hard to shake (North America, Australia). In denser places (and/or where higher powers will shell out up front) they’re seen as filthy and backwards and at best a compromise or stopgap (UK and much of Europe). There tends to be a sense of ruggedness, imperfection, and compromise to them because of their low infrastructure demands.

-battery electric engines are more aligned with diesel than direct electric ones. They’re more likely to be used on rough and tumble industrial shortlines and have more pragmatic, conservative leanings with less infrastructure requirements.

-Dual mode engines (can run off a diesel engine or outside electricity) also tend to be more diesel-aligned due to their compromise factor, but less strongly so. It really depends on where they work and if they mostly run as diesel or pure electric

-There isn’t really a consistant class divide between electric and diesel engines, it’s more accurate to say that there’s more economic disparity among electric traction, while most diesel traction trends toward “middle class” in the modern world. Sure, most nicer trains in richer areas are electric, but there are a LOT of underfunded, crumbling metros and commuter systems too. Maps of electrification % by country are wild because Switzerland and India are the same color and the US is on par with sub-Saharan Africa. Meanwhile, there aren’t many truly high-end diesel-hauled trains still around, and there are some really run-down shortlines, but the majority trend towards the middle, not really pristine or top of the line, but usually not as bad off as some inner city transit. And this isn’t even counting how terrible the fortunes of electrified lines in the US were in the mid-20th century or how common electric switchers are on European shortlines (I just don’t know enough about those besides that they exist tbh)

-Steam engines are rarely truly rich (outside of those working at big theme parks, as a part of big rail systems’ heritage programs, or as millionaires’ pet projects) but tend to have the most consistently secure and stable conditions in the modern world. They have a niche but profitable market in the tourism sphere and their financial struggles are closer to those of museum funding than anything. A mechanically functional smaller steam engine can basically always find work somewhere due to the very limited supply and relatively consistent demand. Strong sense of either charity and community support… or vicious capitalism with them and it varies on the individual and their story. Since the late 20th century the only places where they were really “poor and left behind” were in niche cases where labor was very cheap and fuel was cheap or free, stuff like coal mines in rural China or sugar cane plantations… but even that’s not really a thing anymore and it was never really present in western Europe or the US (lol you can smell my fundamental problems with canon’s framing)

-Narrow gauge lines, especially if geographically isolated, are kind of seen like gnomes by full-sized trains. Out of sight stuff like mine trains, Mail Rail, or old underground freight lines. They are enchanting and magical, pedestrian yet quaint. Some of the de-electrified lines in the US also have their history written off as tall tales because yeah, those weird poles being there because electric engines the size of a Big Boy used to run there sounds like fantasy (but that’s just called the Virginian Railway). Train legends are a wild mix of bizarrely true (Silverpilen) and just silly ghost stories and most can’t tell fact from crap until they meet the real thing face to face.

#stex #starlight express #my headcanons #This doesn’t really go into specific character but more broadly explains how i’d interpret things

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im-a-mess-of-a-person · 13 hours ago

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baby

yes it’s jegulus again i’m sorry (this one had to be though)

weekly prompt 1/26!!

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regulus black hated pet names. he swears he did, and he’s not sure when or how that changed. but it most certainly has.

they’re vile and disgusting and sickening, is what he had said to james in the beginning.

please call me love and darling and never let me go, is what he doesn’t say to james now.

but james knows, somehow. james knows, and james calls him all manner of vile and disgusting and sickening nicknames.

reg, reggie, angel, darling, sweetheart, love…

regulus will never admit it, but it makes his heart melt every time one of those names leaves james’ lips.

he can’t bring himself to say any of them back to james. he won’t. it would sound ridiculous, he thinks, for him to call james love or sweetheart or angel.

he tries it out sometimes, though, alone in the bathroom mirror late at night:

“james, love, would you pass the butter?”

“sweetheart, we have to get to class.”

“kiss me, angel.”

ridiculous, right? the words feel unnatural on regulus’ tongue; they sound fake and sarcastic and far too insincere to convey the all-consuming love he feels for james.

the most regulus can make himself say is jamie, and even that’s rare and makes him feel foolish.

one morning, that all changes.

regulus really can’t be blamed. james is warm and soft, and regulus’ mind is still hazy from his dreams. it just slips out.

“baby, stay with me,” he whines as he tries to pull james back into bed with him.

james, who had previously been trying to disentangle himself from regulus, goes suddenly still.

regulus cracks his eyes open. james is staring at him with wonder, like he’s never seen him before.

“what?” regulus snaps irritably, still trying to pull james back to him.

“d-did you just… you said… oh my god, regulus you just called me baby!” james is positively gleeful, practically overflowing with joy.

“i did absolutely nothing of the sort. now, either get back here and cuddle with me, or give me back my blanket before i catch a cold,” regulus demands, growing increasingly annoyed as james still doesn’t move.

“james! blanket,” he says again.

“huh? what? oh, right, of course, anything for you, baby,” james is smirking a little now that he’s gotten over the shock, and regulus is quite sure he’s never going to hear the end of this.

“i did not say that.”

“sure you didn’t, baby.”

#BABY #i’m obsessed with reg calling james that #crimson rivers really solidified that #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #crimson rivers #james is so in love #james x regulus

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harryspurpleloofah · 5 hours ago

Text

Just next door

Summary: the guy who just moved in next door invited Y/N over for coffee and she saw a sex toy. Him hearing her touch herself later that day evolves into phone sex

Warnings: swearing, female and male masturbation, fingering, phone sex, guided masturbation, mentions of reader hearing moans from Harry’s apartment while he hooks up with someone, I think like a tiny bit of swearing?

The warm scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the small apartment as Y/N set two steaming mugs on the table near the window. Across from her, Clara perched eagerly on a chair, her fingers drumming against the ceramic mug in her hands.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Clara said, leaning forward like she was about to deliver life-changing news.

Y/N arched a brow. “What? Did someone steal your parking spot again?”

Clara shook her head, a grin already tugging at her lips. “No, it’s way better. I was coming up the stairs earlier, and guess who I saw?”

“Unless it’s Freddie Mercury, I’m not guessing,” Y/N replied dryly, taking a sip from her cup.

“A man,” Clara said, her grin growing wider. “A hot man. Like, ridiculously hot. And he was moving boxes into the apartment right next to yours.”

That got Y/N’s attention. She straightened slightly, setting her cup down. “The apartment next door? The one that’s been empty like…forever?”

“Exactly!” Clara practically squealed. “And let me just tell you, this guy is no ordinary neighbor. He’s tall, has this messy, curly hair, and..oh my God—he was wearing a sleeveless shirt while carrying all those boxes. His arms, Y/N. His arms. I swear they look like they belong in a museum.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though a flicker of curiosity was in her. “Sounds like someone’s trying to show off.”

“Um, if you had arms like that, wouldn’t you?” Clara quipped. “He’s a walking thirst trap, I’m telling you. You should bake him cookies or something, just so I have an excuse to come back and see him again.”

“Yeah right,” Y/N scoffed. “The last thing I need is to deal with a cocky neighbor who probably spends more time flexing in mirrors than unpacking his boxes.”

Clara snorted, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Don’t write him off just yet. You haven’t even met him. What if he’s sweet? Or mysterious? Or—”

“Or obnoxious,” Y/N interrupted. “Or loud. Or the kind of guy who blasts terrible music at all hours.”

“Or the kind of guy who’s so hot you won’t care,” Clara shot back.

Y/N shook her head, laughing softly. “Let’s just hope he keeps to himself and doesn’t cause any trouble.”

Y/N was halfway through folding laundry on the couch when she heard a knock at the door. Her brows furrowed as she glanced at the clock—7:30 p.m. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Clara had left hours ago, and most of her neighbors preferred to keep to themselves.

She padded over to the door and opened it. There he was.

The first thing she noticed was the curls—a messy tumble of dark brown waves that framed his face just right. Then her eyes caught on the white T-shirt stretched across his chest and the tattoos that peeked out along his arms, ink twisting down his skin like art in motion. He had a lazy, easy smile, the kind that could disarm anyone without trying.

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm, slightly raspy. “Sorry to bother you. I’m Harry—just moved in next door.”

Y/N blinked, forcing herself to recover. Of course, he’s stupidly attractive, she thought, Clara’s earlier words ringing in her ears.

“Oh,” she said quickly, gripping the edge of the door. “Hi. Welcome, I guess.”

His smile widened a bit, his dimples appearing. “Thanks. Umm, I hate to be that guy, but do you happen to have a screwdriver I could borrow? I can’t find mine in all the boxes, and my bookshelf is dangerously close to collapsing on me.”

She hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not she wanted to prolong this interaction. But then she caught the faintest trace of hope in his eyes, like he wasn’t entirely sure she’d help. That, and the hint of an accent lacing his words, made it hard to say no.

“Yeah, I think I’ve got one. Hold on a second.”

She left the door slightly ajar as she went to the kitchen drawer, rummaging around until she found the toolkit. When she came back, Harry was leaning casually against the doorframe, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

“Here,” she said, holding out the screwdriver. “You can just bring it back whenever you’re done.”

He took it, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. “Thanks. Lifesaver.” He paused, tilting his head slightly as if studying her. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Y/N,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral.

“Well, Y/N,” he said, his smile turning just a touch more charming. “I owe you one. First favor in the books already. You’re making it hard for me to be a bad neighbor.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out, even as she tried to suppress it. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

He grinned, taking a step back toward his door. “I guess we’ll see. Thanks again, Y/N.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving her standing in the doorway with a slight flush creeping up her neck and an unfamiliar warmth buzzing in her chest.

A month later, the café was buzzing with quiet chatter as Y/N stirred her iced coffee, the clinking of the ice against the glass the only sound between her and Clara for the moment. Across the small table, Clara was mid-bite of her sandwich, but the look in her eyes told Y/N she was just waiting for the right moment to drop something.

“What?” Y/N finally asked, narrowing her eyes.

Clara grinned, swallowing quickly before leaning forward. “Nothing. Just…how are things with your very hot neighbor?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though she felt the faintest blush creep up her neck. “They’re fine. He borrowed a screwdriver the other day. That’s the extent of our interactions.”

She smiles, “Well when I pulled into the lot, your new neighbor..Harry, right? He was coming back from a run.”

Y/N looked up, her fork hovering in the air. “A run?”

“Uh-huh,” Clara confirmed, grinning now. “And let me tell you, it was a sight to behold. He was wearing these black running shorts and a tank top, and he was like, glistening in all the right places. I swear it was like watching one of those slow-motion workout montages in a movie.”

Y/N groaned, dropping her fork onto her plate. “Clara.”

“What?” Clara said innocently, though the glint in her eye betrayed her. “I’m just saying, the man has no business looking like that while casually jogging. And he looked so…relaxed about it, like he didn’t even realize every living being with eyes was staring at him.”

Y/N took a sip of her iced coffee, trying to hide the heat creeping up her neck. “Okay, you’re being dramatic.”

“Oh, am I?” Clara shot back, crossing her arms. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. The guy looks like he walked straight out of a Calvin Klein ad. How are you living next door to that and still functioning?”

“He’s just being neighborly.”

“Neighborly, my ass,” Clara said with a snort. “If he comes knocking again, you better invite him in for more than a tool. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Clara!” Y/N yelled.

“What?” Clara said with an exaggerated shrug. “I’m just looking out for you. If I had a neighbor like that, I wouldn’t waste a second.”

Shaking her head, Y/N stabbed at her meal, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere. But Clara’s words lingered, teasing at the edges of her thoughts.

Because as much as she hated to admit it, there was something about Harry that made her wonder just how long she could keep pretending not to notice.

Lunch wrapped up soon with banter, but as the pair strolled back toward Y/N’s apartment, Clara looped her arm through Y/N’s, still buzzing with energy.

“So,” Clara said, bumping her shoulder. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day? Because I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to go home yet.”

Y/N smiled, unlocking the door to the building and holding it open for Clara. “What are you saying? You want to stick around and steal all my food again?”

“Obviously,” Clara replied with a grin. “Your popcorn is better than mine, and you know it. Besides, it’s been ages since we had a proper movie night. You’ve been sooo busy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as they made their way up the stairs. “I’ve barely been busy. You’re just dramatic.”

“Whatever you say,” Clara said breezily. “So…movies? Wine? Popcorn?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Okay, fine. But you’re in charge of picking the movies this time. If I pick, you’ll just complain the whole time and then end up watching them anyway.”

“Fair point,” Clara said, shrugging. “Alright, deal. I’ll find something good.”

They reached Y/N’s apartment, and as she unlocked the door and pushed it open, she glanced over her shoulder. “Just don’t pick anything sappy, alright? I’m not in the mood for tearjerkers.”

She opened the cabinet where she kept the popcorn. “Butter or kettle corn?”

“Both,” Clara said, plopping onto the couch and grabbing a pillow. “Oh, and maybe I’ll grab a blanket in case it gets cold. Can’t be too prepared.”

Y/N smiled. Clara’s energy was infectious, and as much as she liked having her space, she was glad for the company.

“Alright, movie marathon it is,” Y/N said, grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter.

As the familiar hum of the TV filled the room and the scent of freshly popped popcorn wafted through the air, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Despite Clara’s endless teasing, she was glad for the distraction.

Soon Y/N and Clara were sprawled on the couch, surrounded by empty bowls of popcorn and half-finished glasses of wine. The action movie Clara had insisted on watching blared from the speakers, explosions and dramatic one-liners filling the space.

Y/N shifted under her blanket, stifling a yawn, when Clara suddenly sat up straighter, her head tilting to the side.

“Wait,” Clara said, holding up a hand to shush Y/N.

“What?” Y/N asked, frowning as she paused mid-sip of her wine.

Clara’s eyes narrowed, her expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Do you hear that?”

Y/N froze, listening. For a second, there was nothing but the sound of the movie. But then, faintly, she heard it—a muffled rhythm, like the creak of a bedframe, punctuated by soft, indistinct noises.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Oh shit.”

Clara’s mouth dropped open, and she slapped a hand over it to stifle a laugh. “Oh my God,” she whispered, leaning toward Y/N. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Shh!” Y/N hissed. Clara ignored her, pointing toward the wall that separated Y/N’s apartment from Harry’s. “It’s coming from his place, isn’t it? Your neighbor?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N muttered, gripping her glass a little too tightly.

But Clara wasn’t letting it go. She reached for the remote, pausing the movie mid-explosion. The silence that followed was deafening, except it wasn’t really silent at all. The noises became clearer without the distraction of the TV, and there was no mistaking it now. A low, breathy moan filtered through the thin walls, followed by another creak of the bed.

Clara gasped, her eyes wide with delight. “It is him!” she whispered dramatically.

“Do you think it’s…like, a one-time thing?” Clara whispered, barely able to keep a straight face.

“I don’t want to think about it at all,” Y/N whispered back, sinking deeper into the couch and covering her ears.

Clara grinned, clearly reveling in Y/N’s discomfort. “I mean, hey, at least you know he’s good at something. Not that you’ll ever find out, of course.”

Y/N grabbed a throw pillow and smacked Clara with it, eliciting a loud laugh. “Shut up!”

The next morning, Clara had left at about 9 AM and now Y/N had just settled on the couch with a mug of coffee when a knock at the door startled her. Setting the mug down, she padded over to open it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw who was standing there. Harry.

He was leaning against the doorframe, holding her screwdriver in one hand. His curls were disheveled, and there were faint shadows under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn’t slept at all, but somehow he still managed to pull it off in a way that was unfairly attractive.

“Morning,” he said, his voice low and scratchy, like he hadn’t used it much yet. “Thought I’d return this before I forgot.”

“Oh, thanks,” Y/N said, taking the screwdriver from him. She hesitated for a second, her eyes scanning his face. “You okay? You look… tired.”

He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, you could say that. Had a bit of a rough night.”

She leaned against the doorframe, curious despite herself. “Oh? Something happen?”

Harry hesitated, his lips twitching in what might’ve been embarrassment or amusement. “Let’s just say I had one too many drinks… and some questionable company.”

Y/N blinked, her stomach doing a strange little flip. “Oh.”

He gave a dry laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s not exactly my proudest moment. Went out to blow off some steam, ended up bringing someone back. She left early this morning, and now I’m regretting pretty much everything about it.”

Y/N tried to ignore the sudden tightness in her chest. It wasn’t her business..he was an adult, and hookups happened. But still, the thought of someone else being with him, hearing those same soft, raspy tones directed at them, made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Well,” she said, keeping her tone light, “I guess everyone has those nights, right?”

Harry smiled faintly, leaning against the doorframe. “Guess so. Just…doesn’t feel great, y’know? She was nice enough, but it was all a bit…empty.”

Y/N tilted her head, surprised by his honesty. There was something raw about the way he said it, like he wasn’t just brushing it off as a joke or a casual story.

Harry chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a tiny flutter through her chest. “Lesson learned,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not exactly my proudest decision. I guess I was just…blowing off steam, y’know?”

Y/N tilted her head, curious. “Rough week?”

He hesitated, leaning against the doorframe. “Something like that. Moving’s been a bit of a whirlwind, and… I don’t know. I guess I’m still getting used to being here. New city, new place, no familiar faces. It’s a bit… lonely.”

Her expression softened. “I get that. Moving can be tough. When I first moved here, I didn’t know anyone either. It took me ages to feel like this place was actually home.”

He smiled faintly. “Yeah? What changed?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just…let myself settle in. Met a few people, got into a routine. Eventually, it started to feel right.” She paused, feeling a pang of sympathy. “You’ll get there. It just takes time.”

Harry’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, the air between them felt heavier, more intimate. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

Y/N cleared her throat, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. “Anyway, you should probably get some coffee if you’re running on no sleep. It might help.”

He smirked, tilting his head. “You offering?”

She managed to keep her voice steady. “Sure, if you don’t mind instant coffee and a very stubborn coffee machine.”

Harry laughed softly. “Instant coffee sounds like heaven right now.”

“Well, come in then,” she said, stepping back and gesturing for him to enter. “It’s the least I can do after you brought back my screwdriver.”

The apartment was warm and filled with the lingering scent of fresh coffee. Harry glanced around, his gaze landing on the cozy setup in the living room. “Nice place,” he said.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, heading into the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. I’ll get the coffee started.”

As she fiddled with the coffee machine, Harry leaned casually against the counter, watching her with an easy smile. “You’re sure I’m not interrupting anything? I don’t want to mess up your morning.”

“You’re not interrupting,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him. “It’s nice to have some company, actually. Most mornings it’s just me and my to-do list.”

Harry chuckled. “Sounds thrilling.”

“Oh, it’s the height of excitement,” she deadpanned, pressing the button on the coffee machine—only for nothing to happen. She frowned, pressing it again. Still nothing.

“Uh-oh,” Harry said, stepping closer. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Yeah definitely not.”

“Is if broken?”

“I think so,”

He smiled softly, “No worries we can go to mine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Besides, I really need that coffee.”

Harry’s apartment felt like stepping into a place that was truly lived in..a home, not just a space. The walls were painted a soft, warm cream, and natural light poured through sheer curtains, casting golden streaks across the wooden floors. Potted plants thrived in every corner, adding bursts of green to the room. A woven throw rug lay beneath a large, overstuffed couch that was piled with mismatched cushions, some knitted, others patterned with earthy tones.

The coffee table was a mix of practicality and personality, a stack of books with worn spines, an old mug filled with pens, and a half-melted candle that smelled faintly of cedar and citrus.

In one corner, a record player sat atop a weathered wooden stand, surrounded by a scattering of vinyls leaning casually against the wall. Above it hung a cluster of Polaroid photos strung on twine with tiny wooden clips, each one capturing moments of laughter, travel, and faces Y/N didn’t recognize but instantly envied.

The kitchen blended seamlessly into the living space, its counters lined with signs of use: a ceramic bowl of fruit, a drying rack with a couple of dishes, and a cheerful tea towel hanging over the edge of the sink. The faint scent of fresh coffee wafted through the air as Harry stood at the counter, pouring steaming liquid into two mismatched mugs.

“You’ve got a really cozy place,” Y/N said, her voice soft as she took it all in.

Harry glanced over his shoulder with a small grin. “Thanks. Took me a while to get it feeling right. Guess I’m a sucker for a homey vibe.”

“You nailed it,” she said, her gaze drifting again.

She wandered over to a small shelf tucked beside the couch. It was cluttered in the best way…books stacked horizontally and vertically, a framed photo of what looked like Harry and his family standing on a windswept beach, and a small globe with the paint chipped in a few places. Everything about it felt warm and personal, like every item had a story.

“You can sit if you want,” Harry called out, his voice easy and light. “Promise I won’t be offended if you don’t want to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room.”

Y/N smiled. “I’m fine. Just…looking.”

She continued her slow circle, her eyes catching on a door slightly ajar at the end of the short hallway. The bedroom, she guessed, though she quickly looked away, not wanting to seem like she was prying.

But then, as her gaze traveled to the other side of the room, something caught her attention.

It was on the floor by the edge of the couch, partially hidden beneath the throw blanket that had slipped off the armrest. At first, she thought it was just a random object—a stray remote or maybe some kind of gadget, but as she stepped a little closer, her stomach flipped.

A sleek, unmistakable shape came into view. It was a vibrator.

Small and simple, but undeniably there, lying just slightly out of place amidst the cozy, domestic warmth of his apartment. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly looked away, her face burning. Had he seen her notice it? Did he even realize it was there?

“You okay over there?” Harry’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, and she turned to see him leaning against the counter, a mug in each hand, his expression amused.

“Fine!” she said quickly, her voice a little higher than usual. She walked toward him, hoping he didn’t notice her awkwardness. “Just…admiring your plant collection. They’re very..healthy.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it but too polite to push. “Well, thanks. They get all the credit. I just water them and hope for the best.”

As he handed her a mug, their fingers brushed briefly, and Y/N swore she felt a spark. She took a sip, letting the warmth of the coffee ground her as she avoided glancing back toward the couch.

But no matter how hard she tried, the image of the toy was burned into her mind, along with the unwelcome but undeniable thought of Harry using it on someone.

“So,” Harry said, oblivious to her spiraling thoughts, “tell me about yourself, Y/N. What do you do for fun when you’re not rescuing broken coffee machines or lending out screwdrivers?”

Y/N forced a smile, hoping he couldn’t see the pink still dusting her cheeks. “Oh, you know. The usual. Reading, bingeing bad TV, trying to keep my plants alive…” She trailed off, her voice softening as she met his eyes. “Nothing as interesting as this place, though.”

Harry shrugged, his lips quirking up in that easy, lopsided grin. “Guess it depends on your definition of interesting. My life’s not as exciting as it might look.”

Harry followed her line of sight, his brows furrowing in confusion at first. But then his eyes landed on the object partially hidden beneath the blanket on the couch, and his expression changed instantly.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh…you saw that, didn’t you?”

Y/N’s face flushed, and she quickly looked away, trying to pretend like she wasn’t dying of embarrassment. “Yeah, I did.”

“Damn,” Harry said, his voice soft with a mix of awkwardness and apology. He stepped around the counter, closing some of the space between them. “I didn’t realize—I mean, I should’ve—I didn’t know it was just sitting there. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Y/N said quickly, waving a hand as if to dismiss it. She could feel the heat crawling up her neck and cheeks, and she desperately wanted to escape the situation before it got any more mortifying. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I wasn’t—”

“Still,” Harry interrupted, running a hand through his hair. “That’s…not exactly something you want to stumble across when you’re just trying to have a cup of coffee.”

She laughed nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “It’s fine, Harry. I promise.”

For a moment, he hesitated, his green eyes searching her face like he wasn’t sure if he should drop the subject or keep apologizing. Then he sighed, shaking his head.

“This is so embarrassing,” he muttered, a small, sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I swear I’m not like having sex 24/7. It just…happens to be there, and I didn’t think—”

“Harry, seriously,” Y/N cut him off, her voice firmer this time. “It’s fine. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

She glanced toward the door, her heart still racing, and gave him a tight smile. “I should probably get going, though. I’ve, uh, got some stuff to do.”

Harry’s smile faded, and for a second, something flickered in his expression—disappointment, maybe? But he quickly masked it, nodding as he stepped back to give her space.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, his tone light and casual, though it didn’t quite match the look in his eyes. “Thanks for, you know, not freaking out.”

She smiled faintly, already moving toward the door. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

He walked her to the door, his hands shoved into his pockets as they reached the threshold.

“Well,” he said, leaning against the frame, “thanks for the company. Even if I managed to completely ruin it.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” Y/N said, her smile softening. “It was…nice.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, his grin returning, though it was smaller this time. “Good to know.”

She hesitated for half a second before giving him a quick wave and slipping out into the hallway. As the door closed behind her, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her heart still pounding.

Y/N leaned back against the headboard of her bed, her room dimly lit by the soft glow of her bedside lamp. The book she’d been trying to read lay forgotten in her lap, her mind betraying her with images of Harry—standing in his kitchen, the sleeves of his T-shirt stretched over his toned arms, that damn crooked smile on his face.

Her face burned just thinking about him, but no matter how hard she tried to shake it, the memory of the vibrator on his couch kept flashing in her mind. She bit her lip, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the blanket draped across her lap.

It was reckless, she knew that. But the way he’d looked at her earlier..the way his green eyes had lingered, the way his voice had dipped when he said her name, it had left her feeling more restless than she wanted to admit.

Her hand slid lower, beneath the blanket, her breath catching as her fingers grazed her skin. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the fantasy. She pictured him leaning over her, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice low and teasing as he murmured her name.

“Harry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the sound sent a shiver through her body.

On the other side of the wall, Harry froze. Their rooms must be back to back because he could now hear faint moans of Y/N.

He had just stepped out of his shower, towel slung around his hips, when the faint sound reached his ears. At first, he thought he was imagining things, but then it came again, soft, breathless, unmistakable. His name.

From Y/N’s apartment.

He stood there for a moment, completely still, his damp hair dripping onto his bare shoulders as he listened. The sound came again, and this time, there was no mistaking the hushed moan that followed.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding.

It wasn’t intentional..he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. But now that he’d heard it, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. The wall separating their apartments was thin enough to carry the faintest sounds, and the realization sent heat rushing through his body.

He leaned back against the wall, torn between guilt and an intense, undeniable arousal. He should stop. He knew he should stop. But the sound of her soft, needy gasps of her whispering his name was doing things to him that he couldn’t ignore.

Inside her apartment, Y/N was oblivious, completely lost in her own world. Her breathing quickened, her movements becoming more urgent as she pushed two fingers in and out of her pussy and imagined his hands on her, his lips trailing down her neck, his voice rumbling in her ear as he told her exactly what he wanted to do to her.

“Harry,” she whimpered again, her body trembling as she edged closer to cumming.

He shouldn’t call her. He knew that. It was crossing a line, stepping into territory they hadn’t even begun to discuss. But the memory of her soft gasps, the thought of her lying in her bed, touching herself while thinking about him…

It was too much.

With a low groan, he grabbed his phone and scrolled to her name in his contacts. His thumb hovered over the call button for a second before he muttered, “fuck it,” and pressed it.

The phone rang once. Twice.

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice was soft, hesitant, and he could hear the slight tremor in it, like she wasn’t sure why he was calling.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was…I’m awake,” she said quickly, though there was something breathless about her tone that told him she hadn’t quite recovered from what she’d been doing.

He let out a quiet laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Good. Because we need to talk.”

There was a pause, and he could almost feel her tension through the line. “About what?”

“About what I just heard,” he said, his voice dipping lower, more serious.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Oh my God,” Y/N finally said, her voice barely audible. “You heard that?”

“I did,” Harry admitted, his lips curving into a small smile despite himself. “Walls are thin, love.”

She groaned, and he could hear the embarrassment in the sound. “Harry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Don’t apologize,” he interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. “I’m not mad. Not at all.”

“But—”

“Y/N,” he said, cutting her off again. “Listen to me. You don’t need to be embarrassed, okay? I’m not judging you.”

She didn’t respond, but he could hear her breathing on the other end of the line…quick, shallow, and uneven.

“Are you still in bed?” he asked, his voice softening.

“…yes,” she admitted after a moment.

“Good,” he said, leaning his head back against the couch. “Stay there for me.”

“Harry…”

“You were saying my name,” he continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Weren’t you?”

Her breath hitched, and he smiled, knowing he’d caught her.

“I—”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his tone soothing but commanding. “You don’t have to lie. I liked it, Y/N. Hearing you like that…knowing you were thinking about me…”

Her breathing quickened, and he could almost picture her lying there, her cheeks flushed, her body tense with anticipation.

“Harry,” she said again, her voice a mix of nerves and something else..something needier.

“Let me help you,” he said, his hand drifting down to his cock as he spoke. “Let me show you how good it can feel. Can I do that?”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, he thought she might say no. But then she whispered, “Okay.”

“Good girl,” he said, his voice like velvet. The words sent a thrill through him as much as they did her, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.

“Are you touching yourself right now?” he asked, his tone low and deliberate.

“No,” she admitted, her voice shaking slightly.

“Then start,” he said. “Slide your hand down, just like you were doing before.”

He waited, his own hand slipping below as he imagined her doing exactly what he’d asked.

“Touch your clit,” he murmured, his tone thick with heat. “I want to hear you as you feel the warmth of your own touch.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her body still trembling from the intensity of their conversation. But his voice was like a magnet, drawing her in, and before she knew it, her fingers were moving against her skin, tentative at first, then more sure of themselves as she followed his instructions.

“Good,” Harry whispered, his voice growing rougher. “Now, gently slide your fingers in and out, slowly. Feel every fucking inch.” “Good girl,” he murmured, his words sending a thrill through her. “Just like that. You’re so good for me, Y/N. I can hear how much you’re enjoying this.”

“Now add a third finger for me.”

She did as she was told, she let out a slightly louder moan this time.

“That’s it baby just like that. I know you can handle it. Otherwise you wouldn’t be so desperate for my cock would you? How are you gonna take it all for me if you can’t even take three of your own fingers? That would just be pathetic.”

She breathes out as she fingers herself deeper, just trying to forget theyre her own and imagining his ringed ones instead. “Harry..”

“That’s right love just like that,”, he started moving his hand up and down his own cock, holding back moans. “You wanna come over to my apartment tomorrow? So I can actually fuck you good?”

She barely even comprehends what he’s saying with the feeling of being stuffed with three fingers, win the reassurance that soon it would be even more filling than that with his dick. All she can muster is a soft hum of affirmation.

“Yes or no?”

“Y-yeah of course. Just text me what time.”

He sighs, adjusting himself to get more comfortable as he feels the orgasm coming. “I will. I’ll use that same vibrator on you then will you like that?”

“H-”

“And trust me it wasn’t the only thing I have at my house. I have a whole drawer you can have. Pick anything you want out of it tomorrow yeah, baby?”

“Yes Harry, fuck-oh god I’m cumming.”

“Just like that baby.”

Harry almost cums instantly as he hears her moans and then her clamming down afterwards, her breath heavy. And soon enough he does, groaning himself as the hot ropes shoot out of his cock to the towel now underneath him.

After everything settled into quiet, Harry’s voice, still thick with desire, came through once more.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and she could hear the satisfaction in his tone. “You did so well.” His words lingered in her ear, and she could feel the warmth of his praise seeping into her skin.

Y/N’s breath was still uneven as she slowly, hesitantly, lifted her fingers to her lips. “Lick them for me, love,” Harry coaxed, his voice soothing but laced with a hint of command.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the request sending a shiver down her spine, but the sound of his voice, so commanding yet affectionate, left no room for doubt. Slowly, her fingers moved to her lips, her tongue darting out to meet them, and as she did, a soft gasp left her mouth.

“Good girl,” Harry said, the words slipping out in a near whisper. “So good for me. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

The promise of tomorrow hung in the air between them, leaving her pulse racing, her thoughts swirling with the anticipation of what was to come.

“I’ll make sure we have a good time, baby,” Harry reassured her, his tone still warm and low. “You deserve it. You’re perfect.”

Y/N let out a quiet sigh of contentment, still basking in the afterglow of everything they’d just shared, and though she felt a lingering desire, she could also feel the weight of satisfaction in the quiet moment.

“I should let you go now,” Harry said, his voice now gentle, as if sensing her need to breathe. “But tomorrow, we’ll have all the time we need.”

“Goodnight, Harry,” Y/N said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

“Goodnight, love,” he replied, his voice lingering in her ear as if he was right there with her. “Sleep well.”

The call ended, leaving Y/N with a soft smile on her lips, her body still buzzing from the connection they’d shared.

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