#and she keeps walking deeper and deeper into it!

[elryuse]

Her Latest Addiction Pt. 2

Ryujin X Male Reader

Tags : Desk Sex, Sex in Classroom, Public Place Sex, Lots of Dirty Talking, Kissing, Naughty Activities

Words : 3,306 Words

A Continuation From the Previous Story HER LATEST ADDICTION. A Commision Work for My friend @Pizza_anon on Ko-fi. I Hope You Guys enjoyed it.

The moment Ryujin walked into your office, the air thickened with tension. Her hips swayed with that familiar confidence, her lips curled into a sly smirk as she shut the door behind her. She leaned against it, arms crossed, her eyes immediately dropping to the bulge in your pants. “You really couldn’t wait, could you?” she teased, her voice low and dripping with mischief.

“You’ve been on my mind all day,” you admitted, your voice rougher than usual. You stood from your desk, the picture of authority in your crisp button-up and tie, but the way you looked at her betrayed the composure you were known for. Your gaze was hungry, and she loved it.

Ryujin sauntered over, her fingers trailing along the edge of your desk as she approached. “And what exactly did you have in mind, Mr. Student Body President?” she purred, stopping just inches away from you. Her scent—vanilla and something darker, more addictive—filled your senses.

Your hands found her waist, pulling her closer. “You,” you growled, your lips brushing against her ear. “I want you right here, right now. I don’t care who hears.”

She let out a soft laugh, her breath warm against your neck. “And here I thought you were the responsible one.” But her hands were already working on the buttons of your shirt, her fingers deft and impatient. “I guess I’m a bad influence.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, your hands sliding up her sides to the hem of her top. You tugged it off in one fluid motion, revealing the black lace bra underneath. Her skin was warm against your palms as you traced the curve of her waist, your lips finding the hollow of her throat.

Ryujin tilted her head back, her fingers tangling in your hair as you kissed your way down to her collarbone. “You’re going to ruin your perfect image,” she whispered, though her voice was already shaky with desire.

“Fuck my image,” you growled, lifting her effortlessly and setting her down on the edge of your desk. Papers scattered to the floor, but neither of you cared. Your hands were already on her waistband, undoing the button and sliding her skirt down her legs. She kicked it aside, her legs wrapping around your waist as you stepped between them.

Her hands were on your belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease. “You’re so impatient,” she teased, her fingers brushing against the hardness straining against your zipper. “I like it.”

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, your lips crashed into hers, stealing her breath as you pushed her bra straps down her shoulders. She let out a soft moan as your hands cupped her breasts, your thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured against her lips, your hands roaming over her body as if you couldn’t get enough of her. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” She smirked, her fingers finally freeing you from the confines of your pants. Her hand wrapped around you, her grip firm and confident as she leaned back slightly, her eyes locked on yours. “But I love hearing you say it.”

You groaned as her hand moved, her thumb brushing over the tip in a way that made your knees weak. “Ryujin,” you warned, your voice strained. “If you keep that up, I’m not going to last.”

“Good.” Her grin was wicked as she slid off the desk, her knees hitting the floor. “Because I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

Her lips wrapped around you, and you had to grip the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Her mouth was warm, wet, and fucking perfect, her tongue swirling around you in a way that made it impossible to think. “Jesus, Ryujin,” you muttered, your fingers tangling in her hair as she took you deeper.

She hummed in response, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. Her hands gripped your hips, her nails digging into your skin as she moved with a rhythm that was both teasing and relentless. You could feel the pressure building, your entire body tensing as she worked you closer and closer to the edge.

“Ryujin, I’m—” You tried to pull back, but her grip tightened, her mouth refusing to let you go. And then you were coming, your release spilling down her throat as she swallowed every drop.

When she finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her eyes dark with satisfaction. “You taste so good,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the outline of your hips. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could respond, she was pulling you down to the floor with her, her hands already working to get you hard again. And when she straddled you, her body pressed against yours, you knew there was no stopping her. “Ryujin,” you groaned, your hands gripping her hips as she positioned herself above you.

“Relax,” she murmured, her lips brushing against yours. “I’ll take care of you.”

And she did. Her body moved with a rhythm that was both wild and perfect, her hips grinding against yours in a way that made you forget everything but the feel of her. The sounds she made—soft moans and gasps—were music to your ears, and you couldn’t help but match her pace, your hands roaming over her body as if you couldn’t get enough of her.

But it wasn’t enough. You needed more. Sitting up, you flipped her onto her back, your lips finding hers as you thrust into her with a desperation that surprised even you. “Ryujin,” you growled against her lips, your hands gripping her wrists as you pinned them above her head. “You’re mine.”

Her response was a moan, her legs wrapping around your waist as she moved with you, her body pulling you deeper. “Yours,” she whispered, her voice breaking as the tension in her body reached its peak. “Yours, yours, yours.”

And when she came, her body trembling beneath you, you followed right after, your release spilling into her as you buried your face in the crook of her neck. The room was silent except for the sound of your breathing, the scent of sweat and sex thick in the air.

“So much for your perfect image,” Ryujin murmured, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back.

You chuckled, your lips brushing against her shoulder. “It was worth it.”

The air in the student council meeting room was thick with tension, the kind that made it hard to breathe without your thoughts spiraling. Ryujin stood in the doorway, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes locked on you with that look. The one that always meant trouble.

“You’re really going to do this?” you asked, keeping your voice low, though the room was empty.

She smirked, stepping closer, her hips swaying with every step. “Why not? You’re always so perfect in here, Mr. President. I think it’s time you let loose.” Her hand reached for the hem of her skirt, and in one swift motion, she slid her panties down her legs and dangled them in front of you. Before you could react, she stuffed them into your mouth, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Quiet now,” she whispered, her fingers trailing up your chest. “Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, would we?”

You pulled the fabric from your mouth, your heart pounding as she backed away, her finger curling in a come-hither gesture. She stepped into the room, her movements slow and deliberate, her skirt riding dangerously high on her thighs.

The door clicked shut behind you, and in an instant, you were on her. Your hands gripped her waist, spinning her around and slamming her against the desk. Papers scattered to the floor, the sound of them fluttering like the erratic beat of your heart.

Ryujin let out a gasp, her hands bracing against the desk as she looked back at you over her shoulder. “Someone’s eager,” she teased, her voice breathless.

“You started this,” you growled, your hands sliding up her thighs and beneath her skirt. She was already wet, her body responding to the thrill of the moment.

You unzipped your pants, freeing yourself, and without hesitation, you thrust into her. Ryujin’s breath hitched, her fingers digging into the edge of the desk as you moved inside her. Her moans were soft at first, stifled by the fear of being caught, but as you picked up the pace, they grew louder, more desperate.

“Shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear. “Someone might hear you.”

She bit her lip, her body trembling as you pushed deeper, your hips slamming against hers with a rhythm that left her gasping. “Fuck,” she breathed, her voice barely audible. “Don’t stop.”

You didn’t. Your hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as you drove into her, each thrust more intense than the last. The desk creaked beneath the weight of your movements, the sound mingling with the soft slap of skin on skin.

Ryujin’s head dropped forward, her hair falling over her face as she moaned, her body tightening around you. “I’m close,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “So close.”

You reached around, your fingers finding her clit, and her body jerked in response. Her moans grew louder, her back arching as she came, her release washing over her in waves. You followed right after, your own climax crashing over you as you buried yourself in her, your release spilling inside her.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your breathing, heavy and ragged. Ryujin leaned back against you, her body still trembling. “I think you just set a new record,” she murmured, a sly smile playing on her lips.

You chuckled, your hands resting on her hips as you caught your breath. “And I think you just ruined any chance of me ever holding another meeting in here.”

She turned to face you, her fingers trailing up your chest. “Good,” she said, her eyes meeting yours. “Maybe now you’ll stop being so perfect all the time.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing against hers. “Perfect is overrated.”

Ryujin smiled, her hands sliding around your neck as she pressed her body against yours. “Then let’s see how much more trouble we can get into.”

Her lips met yours, the kiss deep and hungry, and you knew there was no turning back. The student council room would never be the same, and neither would you.

As you pulled away, Ryujin reached for her panties, still stuffed in your pocket, and slipped them back on with a mischievous grin. “Let’s see if anyone notices,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help but smile.

She winked, her fingers brushing against your cheek. “And you love it.”

Ryujin turned and walked toward the door, her hips swaying with every step. She paused, her hand on the doorknob, and looked back at you. “See you later, Mr. President,” she said, her voice dripping with sweetness.

Then she was gone, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, your heart still racing and your thoughts a mess. You glanced at the desk, the scattered papers, and the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air.

“She’s going to be the death of me,” you muttered under your breath, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

The sound of footsteps outside the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you quickly zipped up your pants, straightening your shirt. Just as the door opened, you were back in your chair, pretending to read through a stack of papers.

One of the council members poked their head in, their eyes scanning the room. “Everything okay in here? I thought I heard something.”

You looked up, your face calm and composed. “Everything’s fine,” you said, your voice steady. “Just working on some plans for the next meeting.”

They nodded, seemingly satisfied, and closed the door behind them. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, running a hand through your hair.

“Messy,” you muttered, shaking your head. But somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it.

As you gathered the scattered papers and straightened the room, your mind kept drifting back to Ryujin, her smile, her touch, the way she always managed to pull you out of your carefully constructed shell.

“She’s trouble,” you said to yourself, though the words felt more like a compliment than a warning.

And deep down, you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The weeks that followed were a blur of stolen moments and shared secrets. Ryujin and You had found a rhythm, a balance between her wildness and Your responsibilities. She was still the bad girl on campus, the one who turned heads and whispered rumors, but now, You were the one she whispered to. And I was the one who could make her fall apart.

It was the day of the campus speech, the one You'd been rehearsing for weeks. The student body was gathered in the auditorium, a sea of faces watching as You stood at the podium, adjusting the microphone. Your eyes scanned the crowd, and there she was, leaning against the wall at the back, her arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. She’d promised to behave, but You knew better. Ryujin never behaved.

You cleared your throat, starting Your speech with the confidence of someone who’d done this a hundred times before. But today, You had a little surprise. Your hand slipped into my pocket, brushing against the small remote Youd’d hidden there. It was a gamble, a risky move, but with Ryujin, everything was a gamble.

As You spoke about unity and progress, You slowly pressed the button, watching her reaction from the corner of my eye. Her smirk faltered for a moment, her eyes widening slightly before she regained her composure. But You could see the way her body tensed, the way her fingers dug into her arms as she fought to keep still.

You continued the speech, Your voice steady even as Your heart raced. Every so often, You’d press the button again, marveling at the way she squirmed, the way her breath hitched. She was trying so hard to stay in control, but You could see the struggle in her eyes, the way her lips parted slightly as she bit back a moan.

When You finally wrapped it up with a call to action, the room erupted in applause. You smiled, thanking the crowd, but Your focus was solely on her. She was still leaning against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her cheeks flushed. You could see the desire in her eyes, the way she looked at You like You were her everything.

As You stepped down from the stage, You made my way through the crowd, Your eyes never leaving hers. People congratulated You, patted You on the back, but You barely noticed. All You could think about was her, the way she’d looked at You, the way she’d been on the edge because of You.

When You finally reached her, she was waiting, her eyes dark with promise. She leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. “You’re going to pay for that,” she whispered, her voice low and husky.

You smirked, Your hand brushing against hers as You led her away from the crowd. “I can’t wait,” You replied filled with anticipation.

The hallway was empty, the sound of our footsteps echoing as You pulled her into a nearby classroom, locking the door behind us. She was already on me, her hands fumbling with my tie, her breath hot against my neck.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” she growled, her teeth grazing Your skin.

You let out a low chuckle, Your hands sliding down her back to grab her ass, pulling her closer. “It’s not about being clever,” I murmured, Your lips brushing against hers. “It’s about knowing what you need.”

She kissed You hard, her tongue demanding, her hands pulling at Your shirt. You could feel the heat radiating off her, the way her body trembled with need. You broke the kiss, stepping back slightly to look at her, As Your fingers tracing the outline of her jaw.

“You’ve been teasing me all day,” You said, my voice rough with desire. “But now, it’s my turn.”

You reached into my pocket, pulling out the remote and holding it up. Her eyes widened, a mix of anticipation and frustration as she realized what You were about to do. You pressed the button, watching as her body jerked, a gasp escaping her lips.

“You’re going to break me,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

You smiled, stepping closer, Your free hand sliding under her skirt to find the soaked fabric of her panties. “Not yet,” I murmured, Your lips brushing against her ear. “But I’m close.”

She moaned softly, her hips rolling against Your hand as You continued to torment her with the vibrator. You could feel her wetness through the fabric, the way her body responded to Your touch. You pressed another button, increasing the intensity, eliciting a sharp gasp from her.

“You’re going to cum for me, Ryujin,” You whispered, Your voice filled with promise. “Right here, right now.”

She nodded, her hands clutching at Your shirt as she ground against You. You could see the tension building in her body, the way her breath came in short, sharp gasps. And then, with a final press of the button, she shattered, her body convulsing as she cried out, her nails digging into Your skin.

You held her as she came down, her body trembling with aftershocks. She looked up at You, her eyes filled with a mixture of satisfaction and hunger. “You’re a monster,” she whispered, a smile tugging at her lips.

You chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “And yet, you love it.”

She leaned into You, her lips brushing against Yours. “I do,” she admitted, her voice soft. “But don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”

She smirked, her hands sliding down to undo Your belt. “You’ve had your fun,” she said, her voice low and teasing. “Now it’s my turn.”

You groaned as she dropped to her knees, her hands tugging at Your pants.You could feel the heat of her breath against my skin, the anticipation building as she looked up at You with those dark, beautiful eyes of hers. And not long after that, Ryujin immediately places Your Cock onto her warm mouth. It was warm, fuzzly and cozy. "Fuckk me… Your mouth feels amazing….". She smirked, as She gobbles Your My cock faster, as she tried her best to give Me a Deepthroat. The sight was breathtaking, as She choked a little bit, making you chuckle.

"Slow down.. I'm Not Gonna Leave You. You know that Right"? You smiled at her, as You slowly traces your hands onto her hair. Ryujin in return blushes, as she takes your hand and brushes it playfully with her own. "Kiss me Y/n…". And so you did. You kissed her passionately, as You slowly lift her up. You slowly remove her clothes, revealing her fit and petite body, as you slowly traces your hand and remove her panties slowly, As you finally finished, You take her panties and slowly places it inside her mouth, "Open your mouth".

Ryujin slowly opened her mouth, as She took her own panties, and Cupped it within her mouth. As you saw the vibrator patch sticking into the sides of her pussy, You slowly remove the tape, making her moan in shock. "Mhmmm". As you chuckled. "Oh Ryujin-ah, You'll be The death of me".

[pbaz7]

ONE SHOT: IN HER ORBIT

paige x azzk

warnings: drinking, sexual content, cheating

word count: 14.9k

A/N: Alright this combined like a hundred prompts ngl 😭 so i’m so sorry if it’s a little all over the place but I think it’s pretty ok. It’s definitely not as toxic as some of you wanted but it’s still there 🫣. Let me know what you think and leave like reacts if you can! Happy game day!!

—————————————————————————

Azzi hadn’t thought much about how far she and Amber had drifted until recently. They’d been together since her junior year of high school, the perfect couple that everyone envied. Amber was there for every game, every late-night phone call about college recruitment, and every post-game celebratory hug. When they both got into UConn, and Amber told Azzi she was going to go with her, Azzi thought it was a sign—proof that they were meant to keep building their lives together.

But somewhere along the way, things started to change. Amber was preoccupied with her own career goals, diving headfirst into internships, networking events, and her demanding course load. What used to be excitement about Azzi’s basketball career had faded into indifference and a lot of times, criticism.

“You’re stressing too much over practice,” Amber had said a few weeks ago when Azzi mentioned staying late to work on her shot. “It’s just basketball. A literal game. You’re already starting anyway, just come help me study.”

It was little comments like that, each one slicing a bit deeper than the last, that made Azzi feel like Amber didn’t really understand what this meant to her. What this meant for her career. Basketball wasn’t just a sport or a game, it was Azzi’s entire livelihood, her entire future.

That’s when Paige came into the picture.

Azzi didn’t expect to find comfort in Paige—at least not at first. Paige was composed in a way that made her seem untouchable, like she had the entire world figured out. As the face of the team, Paige carried herself with a quiet confidence that made her magnetic, always pulling people into her orbit naturally, whether she was in the locker room, on the court, or just walking across campus. People noticed her and they wanted to be noticed by her.

But Paige wasn’t just a star. She noticed things, little things, like how Azzi’s shooting percentages dipped slightly during stressful weeks or how her shoulders would slump after a particularly bad day. Paige stepped in without making a big show of it, offering help that felt more like a genuine friendship than obligation.

“You good, freshie?” Paige would always ask after practice, tossing a towel over her shoulder as she lingered by Azzi’s side. The question was always casual, but her tone portrayed something genuine—something that told Azzi she didn’t have to be fine if she wasn’t because Paige was genuinely asking about her well being.

It started with extra shooting sessions after practice. Paige would stay behind, helping Azzi find her rhythm again when her mechanics felt off.

“Don’t force it,” Paige would say, gently adjusting Azzi’s elbow. “You’re one of the best shooters in the world. You know the motion. Just let it flow naturally.”

Azzi felt like she could let her guard down around Paige. There was never any judgment, no criticism—just unwavering support. And when practice was over and the rest of the team had left, Paige didn’t rush off either.

“Wanna grab something to eat?” Paige asked one day after they’d spent an hour running through plays together.

Azzi hesitated, but Paige’s smile was disarming. “My treat. Call it payment for all the extra work I’ve been putting you through.”

They ended up at a nearby diner, talking about everything from basketball to their childhood and dreams. Paige was funny and unfiltered in a way that made Azzi laugh harder than she had in her entire life.

…

What started as casual basketball texts here and there quickly turned into long, rambling late-night conversations. Paige had a way of keeping Azzi on her phone for hours, their texts bouncing from lighthearted banter to deeply personal confessions every night.

11:34 PM

Freshie: I swear Geno’s trying to kill me with all these plays. My brain is mush

Paige: Mush isn’t good. Should I start bringing you flashcards?

Freshie: Flashcards? Really?

Paige: I’m trying to be supportive here Azzi. Don’t knock it till you try it

Freshie: Fine. But if I mess up this week, it’s on you

Paige: Deal. But you won’t

12:52 AM

Freshie: Okay, real question this time. Did you always know basketball would be your life?

Paige: I pretty much knew the moment I picked up a ball. Why?

Freshie: I don’t know. Lately, I feel like I’m just losing myself in it. Like… is this all I’m good for? Dribbling an orange ball lol.

Paige: You’re not just “good” for it. You’re great at it. But you know you’re more than that too. You just have too much going on to see it right now.

2:14 AM

Freshie: Do you ever feel like you’re failing at everything outside of basketball?

Paige: Lol every day.

Freshie: How do you deal with it?

Paige: I remind myself why I started. And then I text you and distract myself with your constant overthinking or rambling

Freshie: So I’m a distraction now?

Paige: Yeah, but a cute one so it’s ok

Azzi stared at the text longer than she should have, biting her lip before replying. Whenever Paige flirted it was always subtle, just enough to make Azzi’s heart pick up, but not so much that she couldn’t dismiss them as harmless jokes.

By the time Azzi finally fell asleep, her phone still clutched in her hand, Paige’s words about basketball echoing in her mind.

…

The first time Azzi showed up at Paige’s dorm late at night, it wasn’t planned. She and Amber had just had one of their worst arguments yet—Amber accusing Azzi of putting a “stupid game” above their relationship, and Azzi firing back that Amber didn’t even try to understand what she was going through before it ended in a shouting match and Azzi leaving her own room.

Paige opened the door in sweats and a hoodie, her hair still wet from the shower she just took.

“You okay?” Paige asked, stepping aside to let her in.

Azzi nodded, even though her red-rimmed eyes told a different story. She dropped onto Paige’s bed without waiting for an invitation, staring at the ceiling.

Paige didn’t press much. Just handed Azzi a bottle of water and laid beside her, their shoulders almost touching.

“Girl troubles?” Paige finally asked.

Azzi sighed, covering her face with her hands. “She just… doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get me anymore. It’s tiring”

Paige hesitated, then looked over at Azzi saying. “For what it’s worth, I get you. And there’s these ten other girls known as our teammates that get you. So I promise you’re not as alone as you think.”

The words hung in the air for some time, heavy with something Azzi couldn’t name but felt deep in her chest as she laid there with Paige.

After some time passed, Paige, wanting to cheer Azzi up, let out a dramatic grumble as she sat up. “Alright, fine. We can watch Frozen,” she said.

Azzi laughed instantly as she grabbed a nearby pillow and tossed it at Paige.

Paige caught the pillow midair with ease, narrowing her eyes playfully as she held it up. “Don’t be rude,” she deadpanned, throwing the pillow back on the bed before turning toward the dresser for the remote.

When she turned back around, she caught Azzi pouting, her bottom lip jutting out dramatically. Paige froze for a second before shaking her head, chuckling softly. “You’re annoying,” she muttered, though the fondness in her voice betrayed her words.

Azzi’s pout turned into a grin as Paige climbed back into bed, remote in hand. Their shoulders brushed as Paige settled beside her, pretending to scroll through the streaming options with exaggerated effort. “Happy now?” Paige asked.

“Very,” Azzi said, leaning slightly into Paige’s side, her smile lingering as she watched Paige pretend to grumble under her breath.

…

This became a pattern. The more drifted from Amber, the more they argued and Amber hurled insults at Azzi. The closer she found herself to Paige. They started spending more time together outside of practice whenever they could. Paige would go to Azzi’s room to watch movies, always teasing her about her terrible taste in romcoms. Azzi would show up at Paige’s room whenever she wanted, sinking into Paige’s beanbag chair as they talked endlessly.

There was a lightness to being with Paige that Azzi hadn’t felt in a long time. Amber always seemed to expect something from her—more time, more effort, more of herself. But Paige just… let her be.

…

For Paige, the shift came suddenly and without warning. She didn’t realize how deep her feelings ran until one night when Azzi showed up at her door after another fight with Amber.

Azzi’s eyes were puffy, her hair a mess, but Paige thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

“What happened?” Paige asked, ushering her in.

Azzi shook her head, collapsing onto the bed. “It’s the same thing. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get me.”

Paige sat beside her, not saying anything at first. She just listened as Azzi vented, her words tumbling out in frustration.

“You’re amazing, Azzi,” Paige said softly when she finished. “If Amber can’t see that… it’s her loss.”

Azzi’s breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Paige could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the air between them heavy with something unspoken.

That night, as Azzi curled up in Paige’s bed and drifted off to sleep, Paige lay awake, staring at the ceiling and grappling with the truth: she was in love with Azzi.

…

For Azzi, the realization crept in slowly but hit her all at once. It wasn’t until she caught Paige looking at her during practice—really looking at her, with those dark, intent eyes—that she felt it.

Paige wanted her.

And the moment Azzi’s brain registered that, she couldn’t stop herself from wanting Paige too. It wasn’t just the way Paige made her feel seen, or the way her presence steadied Azzi in a way Amber never could. It was everything about her—the quiet strength, the soft encouragement, the way her lips curled into a knowing smile whenever Azzi said something sarcastic.

But she was still with Amber.

The guilt gnawed at her, but it didn’t stop her from staying up late to text Paige, or from seeking her out after practice, or from craving the way Paige made her feel. It was wrong, and messy, and complicated, but Azzi couldn’t help herself.

And the more Paige let her feelings slip—through lingering touches, teasing words, and the way her eyes softened whenever they were alone—the harder it was for Azzi to pull away.

The First Slip Up

It was supposed to be a fun, carefree night—a random house party off campus that some of the team decided to attend. Azzi hadn’t been in the mood to go, not really, but Amber insisted. She liked these kinds of things, the big crowds, the chance to “network” with people Azzi didn’t care to meet. And maybe Azzi would’ve said no, but Amber had a way of making her feel guilty for turning things down.

“Bruh come on, Azzi,” Amber said with a heavy sigh as they were getting ready. “You literally never wanna do anything I wanna do. You can’t just be about basketball all the time.”

So Azzi went, pulling on a long-sleeve shirt she hoped would keep her warm in the brisk Connecticut air as Amber rushed her out of the door.

By the time they approached the house, the coldness of the evening had already sunk into her bones. Azzi hugged her arms tightly against herself, glancing sideways at Amber who had on two sweaters.

“I’m freezing,” Azzi said, hoping Amber might offer a solution.

Amber glanced at her briefly, shrugging. “You should’ve brought a jacket.” Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t warm either. It was dismissive, like the problem was Azzi’s and not something Amber needed to worry about.

Azzi’s stomach twisted, but she didn’t push the issue, not wanting to argue anymore tonight. They stepped inside and the music was loud and the air was warmer than outside. Before Azzi could say anything, Amber spotted a group of girls she knew and disappeared into the crowd without so much as a glance.

Azzi exhaled and scanned the room looking for the team knowing at least one of them would stand out.

When she spotted Paige near the kitchen, surrounded by a few of their teammates, something in her chest loosened. Paige stood out in any room she was in, tall and composed, carrying herself with a natural ease that made people gravitate toward her. When Azzi made her way over, Paige looked up immediately, her eyes lighting up in a way that made Azzi feel like the only person in the room.

“Heyy, there’s the freshie,” Paige teased, her smile widening as Azzi came closer. But then her expression changed, her brows knitting together as she tilted her head. “You cold?”

Azzi blinked, startled. “What?”

“You’re shivering like crazy,” Paige said simply.

“No, I’ll be fine soon,” Azzi protested quickly, though her body betrayed her as another shiver ran through her.

Paige didn’t argue. She just pulled off her jacket—a soft, worn-in zip up that smelled like her soap and shampoo—and handed it to Azzi.

“Here,” Paige said, holding it out.

“Paige, you don’t have to—”

“Azzi,” Paige interrupted, “just take it.”

Azzi hesitated for a moment before reluctantly slipping it on. It was warm, the sleeves long enough to cover her hands that were still freezing, and she couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Paige grinned, satisfied.

But even with the jacket, the chill didn’t seem to fully leave Azzi’s body yet. Paige must’ve noticed, because before Azzi could protest, Paige stepped closer, wrapping her arms around her.

The hug was casual enough on the surface—just a friend warming up another friend—but it felt like more. Paige’s hands rubbed slow circles on Azzi’s back and Azzi felt herself relax against her. Her head tipped slightly, resting on Paige’s shoulder, and for a moment, the noise and chaos of the party faded into the background.

“You’re freezing. You need to put on a jacket next time,” Paige murmured, her breath warm against Azzi’s hair.

“Amber was rushing me so I couldn’t,” Azzi said quietly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Paige stiffened slightly but didn’t say anything. Her hands kept moving, rubbing against Azzi’s back to warm her up, and after a moment, she spoke.

“Well,” Paige said, her voice soft but edged with something Azzi couldn’t quite place, “you have mine now so you’ll be fine.”

Azzi pulled back slightly, just enough to look at Paige, and the way Paige was looking at her—it made Azzi’s breath catch. There was something unspoken in Paige’s gaze, something Azzi wasn’t sure she was ready to name.

“Thank you,” Azzi whispered

Paige smiled again, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course.”

The moment passed quickly—someone yelling Paige’s name from across the room, and she stepped away, though not before giving Azzi’s arm a quick squeeze and saying “I’ll find you later.”

Azzi wasn’t much of a drinker. She didn’t like how it dulled her mind or left her body sluggish, but tonight, after Amber’s repeated dismissals and her own growing frustration, she’d let herself indulge a little. Just enough to take the edge off.

Amber hadn’t noticed.

Azzi sighed again, watching as Amber laughed with a group of girls across the room. She had tried to hang around her girlfriend, to ease the tension that had settled between them for a while. Slipping her hand into Amber’s or leaning close during the conversation. But each time, Amber had pulled away or brushed her off.

“Azzi, not right now,” Amber said at one point with an edge of annoyance in her voice. “I’m trying to talk to them. You’re clingy when you’re drunk.”

The words stung more than Azzi cared to admit, and she found herself retreating, stepping back as Amber turned her attention fully to her friends.

She sighed again, deciding to walk away. But the house was packed, bodies pressed together in every corner, and Azzi quickly found herself a little stuck, barely able to navigate through the crowded room.

That’s when she felt a steady, warm hand resting lightly on her back.

“You good?” Paige’s familiar voice cut through the loud noise.

Azzi turned her head slightly, relief flooding through her as she saw Paige beside her. She nodded, not trusting her voice in the moment.

“Come on,” Paige said simply. As she guided Azzi with ease, her hand never left Azzi’s back as they weaved through the chaos. Paige moved like she was born to lead, her presence cutting through the crowd effortlessly, and Azzi found herself leaning into it, letting Paige take control.

When they finally emerged into a quieter corner of the house, Paige spotted an open spot on the couch and steered them toward it. They sank into the cushions together, and Azzi felt her shoulders relax for the first time all night.

“You good?” Paige asked again, her eyes scanning Azzi’s face.

Azzi nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for... that. It was getting a little overwhelming in there.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” Paige said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “You looked like you were about to elbow somebody out of the way.”

Azzi laughed softly. “I was definitely close,” she admitted.

They settled into their usual rhythm easily, the conversation flowing like it always did. They talked about everything and nothing. Azzi found herself laughing more than she had all night, the tension in her chest easing with every word. Paige had a way of making her forget everything else going on in her head, of making her feel seen in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

At one point, someone came over to talk to Paige, pulling her attention away for a moment. Azzi instinctively shifted, as she was about to get up to give Paige space and go talk to the rest of the team, but Paige’s arm shot out, draping casually over the back of the couch, her hand resting near Azzi’s shoulder.

“Stay,” Paige said, glancing at her. The word wasn’t a command, but it held weight, a quiet reassurance that Paige didn’t want her to go anywhere.

Azzi froze for a moment, the warmth of Paige’s arm so close making her chest tighten. She nodded, staying right where she was, even as Paige turned to answer the person who’d approached.

When the conversation ended, Paige turned back to Azzi, a small grin on her face. “You need anything? Water? Soda? Something stronger?”

Azzi hesitated for a second before shrugging. “Water’s fine,” she said, grateful Paige even thought to ask.

“I’ll be right back,” Paige said, standing and weaving her way through the room towards the kitchen.

Azzi watched her go, the space beside her feeling oddly empty without Paige there. She fiddled with the hem of Paige’s sweater, her mind wandering back to Amber—wherever she was in this house—and the sharp contrast between her and Paige.

When Paige came back, she handed Azzi a bottle of water before settling back on the couch, her body angled slightly toward Azzi.

“Thanks,” Azzi said, cracking the bottle open and taking a sip.

“No problem.” Paige studied her for a moment before tilting her head slightly. “You look like you’re over this party.”

Azzi chuckled softly, leaning back into the couch. “It’s not really my scene honestly,” she admitted. “Too loud. Too crowded. I don’t know half the people here, and the one person I came with...” She trailed off, shaking her head.

Paige frowned slightly but didn’t press her for more. Instead, she just sat there as she thought for a moment. Then, as if deciding something, she turned back to Azzi and reached out her hand.

“Come on,” Paige said.

Azzi blinked, looking down at Paige’s outstretched hand. “What?”

“Let’s go,” Paige said simply, her fingers wiggling slightly as if to prompt Azzi to take her hand.

Azzi hesitated for a moment longer before setting the water bottle down on the floor and slipping her hand into Paige’s. Paige’s fingers interlaced with hers immediately, her grip warm as she tugged Azzi up from the couch.

“Where are we going?” Azzi asked.

Paige glanced at her with a small smile, her hand still holding Azzi’s tightly. “Somewhere better,” she said.

Azzi followed her without question, though her mind buzzed with curiosity. Paige led her through the crowded house, their intertwined hands drawing a few curious glances but nothing that lingered for two long. They climbed a narrow staircase, Azzi stumbling slightly on the last step, but Paige steadied her with a soft laugh, her hand tightening around Azzi’s.

When they reached the top, Paige guided her down a hallway and pushed open a door. Azzi blinked in surprise as the cool night air hit her face. They were on a small outdoor balcony, completely empty and tucked away from the noise and chaos of the party below. String lights hung lazily along the edge of the railing, casting a warm glow over the space.

Azzi let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The air was crisp but refreshing, and she was still warm from the drinks and the faint buzz of Paige’s presence. Paige’s jacket hung loosely around her shoulders, and though the cold nipped at her face, she didn’t mind.

Paige let go of her hand but didn’t step far, turning to lean her back against the railing and taking in the view. “Better, right?” she asked softly, her voice almost swallowed by the hum of the party below.

Azzi nodded, moving to the railing and resting her forearms on it. “Yeah. Way better,” she murmured, looking out at the dark yard below. She felt Paige’s eyes on her but didn’t turn, letting the comfortable silence settle between them for a moment.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Paige said after a beat.

Azzi tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a faint smile. “You noticed?”

Paige scoffed softly, shifting to face her fully. “Of course I noticed, I’m me. Plus you’re not exactly the type to fade into the background but it feels like you kinda just been drifting tonight. Not as confident as usual.”

Azzi chuckled, her fingers playing with the hem of the jacket. “I don’t know. I guess... this just isn’t my scene,” she admitted. “I came because Amber wanted to….” She trailed off, shrugging slightly.

Paige’s gaze hardened a little, her jaw tightening at the mention of Amber, but she pushed the feeling aside. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here,” Paige said.

Azzi finally turned to look at her, her eyes searching Paige’s face. There was something about the way Paige was looking at her—intense but soft, like she was seeing every piece of her. It made Azzi’s stomach flip in a way she wasn’t ready to unpack.

“You are?” Azzi asked, her voice quiet but tinged with curiosity.

“Yeah,” Paige said, stepping closer now. Her voice dropped slightly.. “You’re the only one worth talking to here.”

Azzi’s heart stuttered in her chest, and she swallowed hard, glancing away briefly to compose herself. When she looked back, Paige had moved closer, so close that Azzi could feel the faint warmth radiating from her despite the cool night air.

Azzi leaned back against the railing, her hands gripping the edge lightly as she tilted her head to look at Paige. “You’re really sweet, you know that?” she teased, her tone light but her eyes giving away something deeper.

Paige arched a brow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Me? Sweet? Who would’ve guessed.”

Azzi smiled, her confidence sparking to life in the safety of their banter. “You make everything seem so effortless,” she said, her voice dipping slightly.

Paige let out a soft laugh, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s. “I could say the same about you,” she murmured, her tone quieter now..

The space between them felt incredibly small, and Azzi wasn’t sure if it was the drinks or the way Paige was looking at her, but she felt a pull, an ache between her legs that was as exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

Paige leaned in slightly, her hands coming to rest on the railing on both sides of Azzi, effectively boxing her in. She wasn’t touching her, not quite, but the proximity sent a shiver through Azzi’s body.

“You warm enough?” Paige asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azzi nodded, her breath catching slightly. “Yeah. Your jacket’s helping,” she said, her fingers brushing the fabric lightly.

Paige’s eyes flicked down to the movement, then back up to Azzi’s face. “Good,” she said, her voice a little rougher now, her gaze holding Azzi’s.

For a moment, the noise of the party below faded completely, and it was just them, the night air, and the soft glow of the lights. Azzi felt her resolve slipping, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn’t fully control.

Paige tilted her head slightly, her face inches from Azzi’s now. “You’ve got that look again,” Paige said softly, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile.

“What look?” Azzi asked, her voice barely audible.

“The one that says you’re overthinking,” Paige teased.

Azzi let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head slightly. “Maybe I am,” she admitted.

Paige’s smile softened, and she reached up, her fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from Azzi’s face. “Don’t,” she said simply.

Azzi didn’t know how to respond or how to react, so she didn’t. She just held Paige’s gaze, the space between them filled with an unspoken tension. For a moment, neither of them said anything, the soft hum of the night enveloping them.

Finally, Azzi broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper. “Thank you.”

Paige’s brow furrowed slightly, and she smiled softly. “For what?”

Azzi hesitated for a second, her eyes flickering down to the jacket she was still wearing, then back to Paige’s face. “For everything,” she said simply, her tone almost vulnerable.

Paige’s expression softened even further, her lips curving into a gentle smile. “Don’t mention it.”

She raised her red cup to her lips, intending to finish off the rest of the drink, but before she could finish it completely, Azzi tilted her head slightly, her voice cutting through the stillness. “Can I have some?”

Paige blinked, then grinned, holding the cup out toward her. “You can kill the rest,” she said casually, her fingers brushing Azzi’s as she handed it over.

Azzi took the cup, the faintest smile tugging at her lips as she tipped it back, finishing the drink in a few quick swallows. The warmth from the alcohol spread through her chest, but it wasn’t nearly as strong as the warmth radiating from Paige, who stood just inches away. Azzi set the empty cup down on the railing behind her.

Azzi set the empty cup down on the railing, her fingers brushing over the smooth surface before she turned back to face Paige. She hadn’t realized how close Paige had gotten, her arms still braced on either side of the railing.

“You look good in my jacket,” Paige said, the compliment coming out smoothly. Her eyes scanned Azzi, lingering for just a second longer than they probably should have as she took her in.

Azzi felt a blush creep up her neck, but she masked it with a soft laugh. “Yeah? Guess I’m doing you a favor, making it look better.”

Paige smirked, her hand sliding casually to rest on Azzi’s hip, her touch light but deliberate. “Exactly,” she murmured, tilting her head as her gaze locked on Azzi’s. “You make it look better.”

Azzi’s breath caught for a moment, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the warmth of Paige’s hand on her or the way Paige was looking at her, like she was undressing her with her eyes. “You’re bold tonight,” she managed, her voice softer than she intended.

Paige’s smirk deepened, her thumb brushing over the fabric of the jacket. “Just telling the truth,” she said. “You look... really pretty tonight, Az.”

Azzi blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in Paige’s tone. It wasn’t the first time someone had called her pretty, but the way Paige said it made her feel different. “You’ve had a few drinks,” Azzi said lightly, trying to deflect.

Paige leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. “Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it gorgeous.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. She should’ve stepped back, should’ve said something to lighten the moment, but instead, she stayed rooted to the spot, her body betraying her. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige chuckled softly, her hand still resting on Azzi’s hip as her gaze flickered down to Azzi’s lips for the briefest of moments before returning to her eyes. “Only if you want me to be,” she replied.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, shaking her head slightly. “You’re too good for that,” she said softly.

Paige leaned in just a little closer, her voice barely a whisper as she teased, “What do you mean?”

Azzi exhaled a quiet laugh, trying to brush it off, but the moment felt too heavy to laugh it off. “You’re a good person Paige,” Azzi said, her voice softening at the admission.

Paige smiled, a slow, satisfied grin pulling at her lips. “I am,” she said, a hint of pride in her tone.

Azzi didn’t respond immediately, her heart beating just a little faster as she glanced at Paige, the warmth from their closeness making her skin tingle. “So you’re not going to let me cheat tonight,” Azzi murmured, a little unsure why the words slipped out.

Paige didn’t pull away, though. Her hand remained on Azzi’s hip, her body still close enough that Azzi could feel the heat radiating between them. She just looked at Azzi for a beat too long, her eyes locked onto hers, saying nothing.

For a second, everything hung in the balance. Azzi felt herself holding her breath, her body unsure of what to do next. But before she could make up her mind, a voice interrupted the moment.

“Ahem.”

The sound was unmistakable—clear, direct, and too familiar. Azzi’s stomach dropped as she turned her head slightly, glancing over Paige’s shoulder.

Amber stood a few feet away, her eyes narrowed, her arms crossed over her chest. The discomfort was clear, but at that moment, Azzi didn’t jerk away. She didn’t pull back.

Instead, she stayed rooted to the spot, holding Paige’s gaze. For a heartbeat, she let herself savor the closeness, the pull of something real between her and Paige. Then, she finally glanced back at Amber—seeing the look on her face—and it hit Azzi with a quiet, unsettling clarity.

This was probably when Azzi should’ve ended things with Amber. The realization hit her harder than she expected, but it didn’t feel like a mistake—it felt like the truth.

Azzi didn’t break the moment quickly, though. Instead, she smiled softly at Paige, a small, genuine smile that conveyed more than words ever could. Paige’s expression softened in response, her eyes warm with something almost like understanding, even though she said nothing.

Azzi pushed gently against Paige’s waist, a quiet movement that separated them just enough to give her space to breathe. “I should go,” Azzi said, her voice soft but steady, as she stepped away from the railing.

Paige smiled at her, a gentle, almost wistful curve of her lips. “Get home safe, Azzi,” she said, her voice carrying an underlying warmth.

Azzi returned the smile. “I’ll text you,” she murmured, before turning toward the hallway. She couldn’t quite look back, not with that lingering tension between them.

As Azzi made her way down the stairs, she noticed Amber already ahead of her, walking with purpose, the distance between them increasing by the second. Azzi’s steps purposely slowed, her mind still racing with everything that had just happened—what she had almost let happen.

When they finally stepped outside, the crisp night air hit her, making her pull Paige’s jacket closer around herself. Amber, who had been silent up until now, suddenly stopped walking and turned sharply to face Azzi, her jaw set.

“What the hell was that?” Amber’s voice was low but heated, frustration clear in every word.

Azzi blinked at her, not breaking her stride as she pulled the zipper on the jacket higher, securing it snugly against the cold. “Nothing,” she said flatly, keeping her tone calm.

Amber’s eyes flicked down to the jacket, her brow furrowing as if noticing it for the first time. “Whose jacket is that?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Azzi replied, her eyes focused ahead as she kept walking.

“It does matter,” Amber shot back, quickening her steps to keep up with her. “You’ve got some random person’s jacket on like it’s normal or something.”

Azzi chuckled under her breath, the sound humorless. She finally glanced at Amber, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s literally a jacket, Amber. You’re being childish.”

Amber stopped in her tracks, her hands balling into fists at her sides as she stared after Azzi. “Childish?” she repeated, her voice rising slightly. “You’re walking around in someone else’s clothes, and I’m supposed to just ignore that?!”

Azzi sighed, exasperated, as she turned around to face her. “It’s really not that deep. I was cold and you wouldn’t give me yours so…”

Amber’s face twisted in disbelief, her frustration clear, but Azzi didn’t wait for her to say anything else. She turned back around, her hands burying themselves in the jacket’s pockets, and started walking toward the dorms again, leaving Amber standing there in silence.

The Second Slip Up

The night at Ted’s was supposed to be a break—a chance for everyone to unwind after a long stretch of games and practice. The team had been looking forward to it all week, and Azzi, too, had been excited to just let loose for a while. But everything had been sour before she even left. Her argument with Amber had been heated—one that nearly turned into a screaming match—but it was the same pattern as always. Amber had wanted Azzi to drop everything and come to the DMV for a week, something about an interview, but Azzi told her she couldn’t just throw her responsibilities aside. She had two games, practices, and meetings. Amber didn’t understand, once again insulting Azzi and it led to another fight.

Still, despite the tension, Azzi wanted to go out. Amber, always aggressive when she didn’t get her way, was all over Azzi the moment they walked into Ted’s even though Azzi wasn’t interested. She tried to pull Azzi into a dance, dragging her by the hand, her lips kissing at Azzi’s neck, whispering promises Azzi wasn’t sure she could still believe in.

Paige, on the other hand, was across the room, surrounded by a few of the girls from the team, laughing and “dancing” with a random girl who was at the bar. Azzi tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest when her eyes found Paige's across the crowded room. She couldn’t help herself—there was something magnetic about her, something that called to Azzi even from a distance.

The moment they locked eyes, Azzi felt everything inside her still. Amber’s hand was on her waist, pulling her into the chaotic rhythm of the music, but Azzi wasn’t moving, she couldn’t focus on anything except the way Paige was looking at her. Her usually bright blue eyes were darker than usual, her gaze intense as she sipped her drink, not blinking, as if she were daring Azzi to look away first. And for a moment, Azzi forgot how to breathe.

The world seemed to slow down. Amber was still murmuring into Azzi's ear, but Azzi couldn’t hear her. Her words were drowned out by the music and the rapid beat of her heart. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Paige. It felt like a secret shared between them, even though they hadn’t said a word.

Paige’s gaze never wavered, and Azzi could feel everything between them, like the entire room had been reduced to just the two of them. Amber, oblivious to the tension building, continued to cling to Azzi, her whispers falling on deaf ears. Azzi barely even registered what Amber was saying.

Azzi’s chest tightened as the girl dancing on Paige didn’t back off. Instead, she leaned in closer, her body grinding against Paige's as she ran her acrylics slowly down Paige's jaw, tracing the curve of her face and lips. Azzi watched the movement, her stomach twisting as Paige barely reacted. Her eyes were locked on Azzi, unmoving, unblinking, as if nothing else in the room mattered, not even the girl trying to press herself closer to Paige.

Azzi could feel the heat creeping up her neck, the possessiveness bubbling inside her, even though she had no right to feel it. Amber's hand was still on Azzi's waist, trying to pull her into the rhythm of the music, but Azzi couldn’t bring herself to care. Not while Paige’s gaze was still locked on her.

The girl on Paige’s body kept dancing, but Paige’s focus was unwavering. Paige smirked slightly as the girl's hands ran over her neck, as if she knew Azzi wouldn’t like it. Still, her eyes never leave Azzi’s.

It was like a silent challenge, a dare to Azzi to make a move, to step in and claim what could be hers, but Azzi was frozen. She was stuck, caught between the familiarity of Amber and the pull she felt toward Paige, the way Paige's eyes seemed to tug at her heart in ways she couldn’t explain.

Amber, noticing Azzi's lingering stare, tugged her closer, leaning into her ear. “Babyyy, you’re not even paying attention,” she said, but Azzi still barely heard her. All she could focus on was the way Paige’s gaze had deepened, how there was something raw and magnetic about the way she looked at her.

As Paige slowly took another sip from her drink, Azzi noticed how the girl's hand slid down Paige's side to her hips, and for a brief moment, Azzi wanted to rip her hand off. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She was still stuck in Amber’s grip, still trying to hold onto something that was slipping through her fingers.

"Who are you looking at like that?" Amber's voice cut through the haze, and Azzi blinked, tearing her eyes away from Paige to look at Amber, but the heat between her and Paige still lingered, like a flame Azzi couldn’t put out.

…

Azzi hadn’t planned on doing anything that night. She was determined to be respectful, to keep her distance from Paige and stay respectful to her relationship, like she always had. She’d made up her mind to stay out of the way, to avoid any of the tension that had been building between her and Paige. She thought if she could just make it through tonight without any issues, everything would be fine. But then after a few drinks Amber had to go and make everything complicated.

Amber wasn’t just rude that night. She was worse—she was dismissive, condescending, and cruel in a way Azzi hadn’t seen in a long time. It was though all the frustrations Amber had been bottling up for weeks finally exploded, and Azzi was the target. Amber fully snapped at Azzi when she pushed her off gently and tried to suggest they grab a drink instead of dancing. She accused Azzi of ignoring her all night, accused her of being self-absorbed, accusing her of not wasting her time playing a game rather than trying to better their relationship and so much more.. Each comment felt like a jab, cutting deeper than the last.

Azzi tried to brush it off at first, telling herself it was just the alcohol or a bad mood, but it didn’t stop. Amber’s insults, her passive-aggressive remarks, and the way she treated Azzi like she was nothing more than an accessory to her life—it all piled up.

The quiet argument had escalated quickly, spiraling out of control before Azzi even had a chance to process it. “Call me when you’re done being so fucking self-centered,” Amber spat. She didn’t wait for a response, turning on her heel and storming out of Ted’s.

Azzi stood there for a moment, watching the door swing shut behind Amber. A sigh left her lips, but she didn’t let herself dwell on it, she honestly didn’t feel bad about it. The tension in her chest loosened as she turned back to the team, who, like her, were already a few drinks in, their mood carefree and light. It was easy to slip back into their energy, letting the music and laughter fill the space Amber had left.

The drinks flowed freely, and with each one, Azzi felt herself relax more. She didn’t have to force anything; the team’s energy was infectious, and before long, she found herself genuinely enjoying everything. Paige was initially on the other side of the room, laughing with Evina and Olivia, but like a magnet, they naturally drifted toward each other. Neither of them said anything as their proximity closed; it was unspoken, almost instinctual, like gravity pulling them together.

Paige didn’t even realize how close she had gotten until Azzi reached out, her hand finding Paige’s wrist and gently tugging her closer. The tug wasn’t rushed or eager—it was simple and confident, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Paige felt her pulse quicken, but she didn’t hesitate. She let herself fall into the moment, her hands sliding around Azzi’s waist as the music guided them.

They started swaying to the beat, bodies pressed together as neither one of them said anything. Paige’s arms tightened slightly around Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer. Their movements grew more fluid as Azzi wrapped her arm around Paige’s shoulder, her hands coming together to rest on her head. Neither spoke a word, but their silence was filled with a quiet understanding, the tension between them growing.

Azzi’s eyes flicked to Paige’s lips, and Paige caught the movement, making her instinctually lick them. The air between them continues to grow heavier, their gazes dancing between each other’s lips and eyes, silently asking questions neither of them said out loud.

Azzi, trying her best to keep her composure, let her head dip down, resting lightly on Paige’s shoulder. Her breath fanning across Paige’s neck, the simple warmth of it making Paige clench her jaw. Azzi’s lips hovered tantalizingly close to Paige’s skin, not quite touching but close enough that Paige could feel the ghost of them. Paige’s fingers tightened slightly on Azzi’s waist, her own breaths shallow as she tried to steady herself.

Their dancing grew needier, the space between them nonexistent. It wasn’t just the physical closeness; it was the way they seemed to be silently communicating through every glance, every brush of skin. Paige closed her eyes for a brief moment, soaking in the sensation, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure Azzi could hear it.

Without warning, Azzi crossed the line between hovering and touching.

Her lips ghosted over Paige’s neck, softly. It wasn’t aggressive or rushed—just featherlight kisses that sent sparks racing through Paige’s veins. Paige sighed audibly, her jaw tightening as she fought to keep her composure. Her fingers dug into Azzi’s hips reflexively, grounding herself so she didn’t lose it entirely in the middle of the bar.

Azzi noticed the way Paige’s body tensed under her touch, and it only fueled her. As she let her lips linger a moment longer, the pressure slightly firmer now in a few spots, before pulling back just enough to murmur into Paige’s ear.

“Meet me in the bathroom.”

Paige’s eyes opened, her grip on Azzi’s waist faltering as her heart raced. Before she could respond, Azzi was already stepping back, her touch slipping away like sand through Paige’s fingers.

Azzi didn’t look back as she walked toward the bathroom. Paige stood there for a moment, frozen, the ghost of Azzi’s touch and the warmth of her lips still lingering on her skin.

The music continued around her, the chatter and laughter of the team and other patrons filling the space, but it all felt distant now. Paige’s focus was entirely on the retreating figure of Azzi, her heart pounding as she weighed her next move.

Her lips curved into a subtle, almost involuntary smirk as she exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself. There was no real decision to make—her body had already made it for her. With one last glance around the bar, Paige slipped through the crowd, following the same path Azzi had taken moments earlier.

When Paige stepped into the dimly lit bathroom, her gaze locked onto Azzi, who was leaning casually against the sink. Azzi’s eyes flicked up to meet Paige’s, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

Paige didn’t say a word as she turned and locked the door behind her with a click, the sound echoing in the space. Her hand lingered on the lock for a second longer than necessary, steadying herself as she exhaled, before slowly facing Azzi again.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them thick. Azzi’s smirk faltered slightly, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she studied Paige’s expression. It wasn’t playful or hesitant—Paige’s eyes burned with something Azzi couldn’t place, her chest rising and falling as though she was barely holding herself back.

The silence was broken when Azzi took two quick steps forward, closing the distance between them in an instant. Without warning, her hands gripped the front of Paige’s shirt, pushing her back until Paige’s shoulders hit the cool wall with a thud. Azzi’s lips were on hers immediately, the kiss urgent and messy, tongues battling one another as they fought for control.

Paige’s hands instinctively went to Azzi’s waist, her fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt as she pulled her even closer. Azzi pressed against her fully, her grip tightening on Paige’s shirt, but it was clear neither one of them was willing to give up control.

Then, in a quick movement that left Azzi momentarily stunned, Paige flipped their positions, slamming Azzi’s back against the wall with a force that made her gasp. Azzi’s head tilted back slightly from the impact, her lips parting in surprise, but her body instantly responded to the dominance radiating from Paige.

The heat coursed through Azzi, her breath hitching as she met Paige’s gaze. No one had ever handled her like this before—there was a certainty, a confidence in Paige’s actions that excited Azzi.

Paige didn’t give her much time to process, her lips crashing back onto Azzi’s with the same fervor as before. Her hands slid down Azzi’s sides, gripping her hips firmly as she pressed her body against Azzi’s, pinning her to the wall. Azzi let out a soft moan against Paige’s lips, her own hands tangling in Paige’s hair as she pulled her even closer, the world outside that bathroom disappearing entirely.

The two of them stayed locked in that rhythm, bodies pressed impossibly close, lips and hands moving with an urgency that neither seemed able—or willing—to control. Paige’s grip on Azzi’s hips remained firm, holding her in place every time Azzi tried to shift, a silent but undeniable reflection of her dominance.

As their kisses deepened, Paige’s lips began trailing down Azzi’s jaw. She kissed and sucked softly along the curve, her movements careful not to leave any marks. Azzi’s head tilted instinctively, giving Paige better access even as her mind began to catch up to her body.

The thought of Paige leaving marks on her skin—of something so visible, so undeniably real—triggered a sudden flicker of realization. Azzi’s heart pounded in her chest, her breathing shallow as she tried to fight the pull of Paige’s lips, her touch, her everything.

“Paige…” Azzi’s voice came out barely above a whisper, shaky and uncertain, her resolve faltering even as the word left her lips. Paige didn’t seem to hear her—or maybe she did and thought Azzi was whispering her name for other reasons—because she continued, her lips sucking against the sensitive spot just below Azzi’s ear, drawing a sharp inhale from her.

Azzi squeezed her eyes shut, pulling every ounce of willpower she could muster. This time, she took a deep, steadying breath and whispered more firmly, “Paige stop.” She gently pushed at Paige’s shoulders, just enough to create a space between them.

Paige stilled immediately, her hands falling away from Azzi’s hips, her hazy eyes snapping up to meet Azzi’s. The awe and unfiltered admiration written across Paige’s face made Azzi’s chest ache, her throat tightening painfully as she tried to find the right words.

“We can’t,” Azzi said softly, the words catching in her throat as her hands lingered on Paige’s shoulders, not wanting to completely let go yet.

Pain flickered in Paige’s eyes briefly but she quickly masked it as she reached out, her hand gently cupping Azzi’s cheek slowly. “It’s okay,” she said softly, forcing her voice to sound understanding.

“I…Um... I should go,” Azzi said quietly, her voice barely audible over the thundering in her chest. She turned to leave, but Paige’s voice stopped her.

“Get home safe Az,” Paige said softly.

Azzi didn’t turn back as she walked out, her mind a storm of emotions, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on her chest. She couldn’t look at Paige again. Not right now.

…

Later that night Azzi finally mustered the courage to go talk to Paige. She needed to explain, or at least some kind of resolution to everything swirling between them. The night’s events—especially the kiss in the bathroom—kept replaying in her mind, and she couldn't get rid of the knot in her stomach. She knew she couldn’t just let things sit unresolved between them. But she didn’t know what to expect when she knocked on Paige’s dorm door.

As she walked down the hall toward Paige’s room, Azzi felt her heart pound in her chest. Her hand hovered over the door, and for a moment, she paused, wondering if this was the right thing to do. But before she could knock, she heard something from inside Paige’s room—a sound that made her blood run cold.

“Paige! Oh my god, Fuck Paige.” A girl’s voice, excited and a little too loud for the quiet of the dorms.

Azzi’s stomach dropped. She froze, her hand still in the air. The sound of the girl calling Paige’s name echoed in her ears, and Azzi could feel a wave of nausea rise in her throat. Her pulse quickened, and her breath caught in her chest.

It hurt, even though Azzi couldn’t explain why. She wanted to shake it off, to remind herself that she wasn’t with Paige and that she had no claim on her, but the sting wouldn’t go away.

She stood there for a long moment, paralyzed by the sick feeling in her stomach. She couldn’t even bring herself to knock on the door anymore. Instead, she backed away, feeling like she couldn’t catch her breath. The feeling of walking into Paige’s room and finding that girl with her—that girl whose name she didn’t even know but who had already made Azzi feel small—was too much.

Azzi turned and walked quickly down the hallway, away from Paige’s room, her heart racing in her chest.

…

For the next few weeks, Paige and Azzi kept things friendly, almost as if that night at Ted's had never happened. They didn’t bring it up once—no awkward glances, no mention of the kiss. They were good at pretending. To anyone else, they were just two friends hanging out, enjoying the occasional late-night talk, laughing at inside jokes, and sharing glances across the room. And for a while, that worked. They kept it light and uncomplicated. But Azzi knew, deep down, that something had changed.

It wasn’t until they found themselves at another party that the cracks started to show again. Clearly alcohol was their biggest enemy. This time, it was more of a low-key kickback in someone’s suite—still loud and filled with the hum of music and chatter, but less crowded than a full on party. Azzi was grateful for that; she didn’t want to deal with the crowds of people that had made everything feel so messy the last time.

Amber hadn’t so much as glanced at her all night, spending the majority of her time with some girl from her law class who kept trailing after her, whispering in her ear, and laughing like they were in their own little world. Azzi didn’t mind. In fact, it was a relief. She didn’t want to deal with Amber tonight. She just wanted to get through the evening without any drama—something she knew she was starting to crave, especially when it came to Paige.

Paige was there too, of course, as she always was. She wasn’t exactly the life of the party, but she was still fun to be around. Her usual carefree energy, though, was tempered by something tonight. Azzi couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was something in the way Paige held herself, the way she lingered a little too long in Azzi’s space when they shared a laugh, or the way their hands brushed as they passed each other in the small crowd.

For a while, Azzi managed to focus on other things—laughing at jokes, chatting with some of their teammates, and even dancing a little. But it wasn’t long before Paige’s presence became undeniable again. Every time she looked in Paige’s direction, there was something magnetic about her. She found herself gravitating back toward her, unable to resist the pull.

And then, of course, the alcohol kicked in. The drinks kept flowing, and just like the last time, the line between friendly and something more began to blur. Azzi caught herself looking at Paige longer than necessary, noticing the way the light hit her face or how her lips curled into a smile when she said something funny. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own, responding to the subtle cues, the closeness they shared.

The night seemed to slip into a haze after a few too many drinks. The music was louder, the air warmer with the scent of alcohol and bodies pressed together. Azzi, already feeling the effects of the alcohol, found herself near Paige again. Azzi tried to focus on something else—anything else—so her eyes flickered back to Amber, still deep in conversation with the same girl from her law class.

Azzi wasn’t even upset, she was just curious about the situation, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Paige followed her line of sight, eyes narrowing slightly as she saw the same thing Azzi did. Amber was leaning in, her lips too close to the other girl’s ear, her body language clearly more than friendly. For a moment, Paige didn’t know what came over her, but she felt a spark of something, something protective that pushed her forward. Before she had a chance to second-guess it, she stood from her spot and pulled Azzi gently but firmly onto her lap on the couch, wrapping her arms around her waist.

The sudden proximity caught Azzi off guard. She could feel Paige’s heartbeat against her back, the warmth of her body pressing against hers, and the weight of Paige’s arms as they tightened around her. Azzi tensed slightly, not sure how to react to the intensity of the moment. But then Paige’s voice, soft and soothing, brushed against her ear.

“Just relax,” Paige whispered, her breath warm on Azzi’s skin. It was as if the simple words unlocked something inside Azzi. She felt her body hum, a subtle tension easing as Paige’s words settled in her mind. She leaned back slightly, her head resting against Paige’s chest, the solid thump of her heartbeat grounding her.

Paige’s voice was soft against Azzi’s ear as she whispered, "You know you're much prettier than whoever she's talking to." Azzi couldn’t help the hum that escaped her lips, the sound almost a mixture of appreciation and something else.

Paige’s voice dipped lower. “I would never do you like that.”

Azzi stayed still for a moment, leaning comfortably against Paige’s chest, but her words came out without hesitation. “You did.”

Paige froze for a second, confused, her arms tightening around Azzi instinctively. "Whatchu mean?"

Azzi let out a breath, her heart racing with the weight of the conversation, and she turned her head just enough to rest her cheek against Paige’s chest. “That night after Ted’s… I came to talk to you.”

Paige stiffened, her jaw clenching slightly. She didn’t need to hear more. She already knew exactly what Azzi was talking about. The air between them shifted, the lightness of their previous banter now replaced by an unspoken tension.

She tightened her grip around Azzi, not out of force but to keep her close, to prevent the moment from slipping out of her control. "I was drunk," Paige said quietly, though her tone betrayed a hint of guilt.

Azzi didn’t say anything for a long moment. Her chest felt tight, not just from the closeness, but from Paige’s words. She didn’t know why it hurt more to hear that it had been a moment of drunken weakness than if Paige had just admitted it had been something more. But she swallowed hard, pushing the sting of it down.

“Yeah, well.” Azzi finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air between them, as cutting as the silence that followed.

Paige let out a frustrated breath, but instead of getting defensive, she spoke with more restraint. “You wanna know something?” Her voice was quieter now.

Azzi nodded her head gently against Paige’s chest, her heart pounding in anticipation. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at Paige just yet, not wanting to see what might be written on her face.

Paige’s lips brushed against Azzi’s ear as she spoke, lowering her voice even more, making Azzi shiver. “Your name slipped out.”

Azzi’s breath hitched at that, her body instinctively turning, as if the words had unlocked something inside her. She was trying to turn to face Paige, to process what had just been said, but Paige’s grip on her tightened, keeping her in place, pressing her body flush against hers.

“Don’t. Just listen,” Paige murmured. Azzi felt the heat of Paige’s breath against her neck, and despite the knot in her stomach, she couldn’t pull away. Paige’s arms were like anchors, steadying her in the midst of the storm inside her.

Amber’s gaze shifted across the room, her eyes narrowing when she spotted the two of them. She had been too distracted by the girl from her law class, but now that she was looking, it was impossible to ignore the way Azzi and Paige were practically wrapped around each other. Paige’s arm was snugly around Azzi’s waist, their heads tilted toward each other, too close. Amber felt a surge of anger rise within her as she watched Paige’s lips move near Azzi’s ear, whispering something she couldn’t hear but could certainly imagine as Azzi’s eyes fluttered closed and she crossed her legs.

Amber’s grip on her drink tightened, and her pulse quickened. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Azzi was lost in the moment, but then, out of the corner of her eye she felt Amber’s gaze. The air seemed to thicken, and Azzi could feel the tension spike instantly, even before Paige noticed.

Amber’s eyes were locked on her and Paige, and the fury in her gaze was clear. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her posture was rigid. Azzi knew Amber well enough to see the storm brewing in her eyes, but for the first time, it didn’t feel like it was directed solely at Azzi. It was as if Amber was furious with Paige too.

Paige, however, seemed to enjoy the spectacle once she noticed. Her smirk widening as she notices Amber staring at them. She didn’t break eye contact with Amber. Instead, she leaned in closer to Azzi, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper that sent an involuntary shiver through her.

"You want me to let go?"

Azzi’s eyes flickered toward Amber, still standing across the room, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. Azzi paused, her heart racing as she considered Paige’s question.

She knew Amber was watching. And yet, as her mind spun with uncertainty, her body couldn’t help but answer for her. She shook her head softly, her voice barely a whisper as she responded, "No."

Paige’s smile was slow and full of satisfaction, a gleam of triumph in her eyes as she tightened her hold on Azzi, pulling her impossibly closer. Azzi felt the pressure of Paige’s arms wrapping around her, keeping her in place as Paige’s lips descended on her neck, pressing a soft, deliberate kiss against the sensitive skin there.

Azzi's breath caught in her throat, her body trembling slightly from the gentle caress as she bit her lip. Paige made sure to angle her head just enough so that Amber could see every move, every touch. The kiss lingered for a moment longer than necessary, the intimacy of it undeniable.

Paige pulled away just slightly, her gaze flicking over to Amber, locking eyes with her again in an almost mocking way. She knew Amber was furious, but it seemed like the moment only fueled Paige’s smirk, her confidence growing as she deliberately pressed closer to Azzi, the whole scene laid out in front of Amber’s watchful eyes.

Azzi, still caught in the feeling of Paige’s touch, swallowed hard, trying to focus on the situation at hand. But Paige had effectively shifted the focus back to Amber, making sure that whatever was happening—whatever was about to happen—Amber couldn’t look away.

Paige kissed Azzi’s neck a few more times, each press of her lips making Azzi’s pulse quicken.

The soft, lingering touches felt like they were meant for no one but her, and for a moment, everything else faded. Azzi’s breath became shallow, her body leaning into Paige’s embrace, her mind clouded completely by the heat of the moment.

But then, the spell was broken.

Amber, whose eyes blazing with a mix of rage and intoxication, stormed across the room. Her movements were unsteady. Without hesitation, Amber yanked Azzi off of Paige, the movement more forceful than necessary.

Azzi stumbled slightly, the abruptness of the action catching her off guard, but before she could even regain her balance, Paige was standing up quickly, her posture stiff, her jaw clenching with anger. She stepped in front of Azzi, putting herself between them, her eyes flashing as she looked Amber up and down.

“Don’t fucking touch her like that,” Paige’s voice was low but still controlled enough.

Amber, still fuming, sneered at Paige.. “I can touch her however the fuck I want to,” she spat, her voice slurred just enough to reflect how drunk she was. She took a step toward Azzi, her hand reaching out again as if to make her point as she tried to grab Azzit.

Paige stepped between them before she could get any closer. “Yo, you needa chill,” Paige said.

Amber ignored her and reached for Azzi again, but Paige’s hand shot out, stopping her in her tracks. “Bro, she’s not going with you. You’re crashing out,” Paige said. Her eyes locked on Amber’s with a mix of warning and restraint.

Amber let out a bitter chuckle, her drunkenness masking the anger simmering beneath. “I promise you haven’t seen that yet,” she snapped.

Paige didn’t flinch. She didn’t step back. Instead, she moved closer, her jaw clenching even tighter. The air between them was thick and for a moment, it felt like the room had gone silent, everyone holding their breath to see what would happen next.

Just as the situation was about to tip over the edge, Evina appeared out of nowhere, throwing her arm around Paige’s shoulders casually.. “Yo, you good, P?” she asked, her voice light but carrying enough weight to cut through the tension.

Paige didn’t take her eyes off Amber, their gaze still locked. “Yeah, I’m good E.”

Evina, still sensing the storm brewing, gently started nudging Paige back, her arm firm around her shoulders. “Alright, then. Let’s keep it that way,” she said, her tone calm as she tried to defuse the situation before it exploded.

Paige let it happen, allowing Evina to put some space between her and Amber, though her eyes never left Amber’s face. The message was clear.

Amber’s voice cut through the heavy silence.. “Azzi this is bullshit, let’s go.”.

Azzi didn’t move from her position near Paige, her body tense, clearly caught in an internal battle. Her eyes flicked between Amber and Paige, knowing her answer but unsure of what to say. How to say it.

Amber’s frustration turned to disbelief as she took a step forward, her movements aggressive. “Azzi, are you fucking serious right now?” she snapped, her voice rising. She tried to get closer to Azzi, but Paige was there again, stepping in and blocking her path.

“She clearly doesn’t wanna go with you, just let it go,” Paige said.

Amber scoffed, glaring at Paige like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “She can speak for herself. She’s not a fucking toddler,” she shot back, her anger bubbling over.

The words seemed to snap Azzi out of her internal battle. She straightened her posture, inhaling deeply as she finally found her voice. “I’m just gonna stay with Paige tonight.”

Amber froze, her expression shifting from anger to shock as the weight of Azzi’s words sunk in. “What the fuck do you mean you’re staying with Paige tonight?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly, the disbelief clear.

Azzi’s gaze didn’t falter as she replied, her voice a little firmer this time. “You can go be with whoever you want from law class and I’m going to stay with Paige.”

The room seemed to still, the air heavy with unspoken emotions. Azzi didn’t need to elaborate further. The implication in her words was clear, and Amber understood exactly what she meant.

Amber let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief as she looked between Azzi and Paige. “Wow,” she muttered. “Almost three years of my life down the fucking drain.”

For a moment, Amber stood there, her chest rising and falling as if she wanted to say more, but no words came. With a sharp turn, she stormed toward the counter. Grabbing an empty glass, she poured herself a hefty drink, the sound of liquid hitting glass cutting through the tense silence.

Azzi exhaled shakily, her shoulders slumping as the weight of the moment settled over her. She stared at the floor, processing everything, her mind racing with emotions she couldn’t untangle.

Paige noticed. She stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on Azzi’s back to draw her attention. Azzi glanced at her, her watery eyes betraying the calm facade she was trying to keep.

“You good?” Paige asked softly, her voice filled with genuine concern.

Azzi gave her a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah. I’m fine,” she murmured, but the slight tremor in her voice told another story.

Paige studied her carefully, reading every detail—the tenseness of her shoulders, the glossiness of her pretty brown eyes, the way her hands fidgeted. She saw it all: the hurt, the relief, and the overwhelming weight of the decision Azzi had just made.

After a moment, Paige leaned in slightly. “You wanna get outta here?”

Azzi blinked quickly, trying to chase away the tears that were trying to spill over. She looked at Paige, the question hanging in the air like an open door, a perfect escape that she desperately needed. With a small nod, she said.

“Yes. Please.”

Without another word, Paige slid her arm around Azzi’s shoulders and Azzi melted into her side, leaning her head slightly against Paige's as they made their way to the door.

Some people in the room seemed to register the moment. Heads turned the weight of their departure together a little more serious.

…

After that, it was like the universe conspired to give Azzi small, quiet signs the rest of the night, reassuring her that she’d made the right decision.

The first came in the form of Paige when they got back to the room. She didn’t push or pry for information or what this meant for them; she simply held Azzi, her arms wrapped securely around her while silent tears slipped down Azzi’s face. It wasn’t dramatic or loud—just a quiet release as Azzi processed the reality of what had happened. She wasn’t exactly sad, but the weight of ending a nearly three-year relationship pressed on her chest.

Paige didn’t say anything. She didn’t try to fill the silence with platitudes or ask if Azzi wanted to talk. She just stayed there, letting Azzi’s tears fall against her chest, dampening her chest.

That was the first sign—because Azzi didn’t know anyone else, besides sweet and gentle Paige, who would hold the girl they were in love with while she cried over her ex. It was a selfless love that Azzi hadn’t experienced before, the kind of quiet genuine love that didn’t demand gratitude or expect anything in return.

Eventually, the tears slowed, Azzi’s body growing heavier in Paige’s arms. Her breathing evened out, her exhaustion catching up to her.

Paige didn’t move, didn’t let go, even as Azzi drifted to sleep against her chest, her tears drying where they’d fallen.

The next moment the universe seemed to confirm Azzi had made the right choice came later that night. Paige hadn’t fully let herself fall asleep yet. She was hovering in that space between wakefulness and rest, a part of her instinctively still alert because she knew what might happen.

Hours later, Azzi began to stir, soft murmurs turning into restless movements as her breathing changed. The effects of a bad dream pulled her out of sleep, and she woke with a slight panic.

But Paige was there.

Within seconds, Paige tightened her arms around Azzi, pulling her back down to the mattress, whispering groggily, “It’s just a dream, Az.” Her voice was a little raspy from sleep, barely above a murmur, but it anchored Azzi.

Azzi stayed still, her breath shaky as she tried to gather herself. Paige, still half-asleep, spooned her tightly, her hold warm and reassuring, her presence a contrast for Azzi’s frayed nerves. They didn’t say anything for a while, letting the silence stretch out between them as Paige’s coconut-and-vanilla scent surrounded Azzi.

Azzi lay there, her mind racing as she processed everything—where she finally was, who she was with, and how different it felt. Finally, she whispered, “Are you awake?”

Paige squeezed her tighter, pulling her closer into the spooning position, and hummed in response, the sound low in Azzi’s ear.

After a moment, Paige’s voice, still thick with sleep, asked, “You wanna talk about your dream?”

Azzi hesitated before asking, “How’d you know it was a bad dream?”

Even in the dark, Paige smiled, though Azzi couldn’t see it. “I noticed on a few road games,” she said softly, “you tend to have nightmares when you’ve had a lot of sugar that day.” Her voice carried a teasing warmth as she continued, “Almost like your mind needs to burn off all the extra energy or something.”

Azzi couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh, her heart feeling lighter in a way she hadn’t expected. The way Paige noticed things like that—small, seemingly inconsequential details—made Azzi’s chest ache in the best way.

In that moment, Azzi allowed herself to fully confirm what she’d known for a while: Paige was the right one for her. She pressed herself further into Paige, her back snug against Paige’s chest, and interlaced their fingers, her palm pressing against the back of Paige’s hand.

Paige felt the shift and whispered, “You good?”

Azzi nodded, humming her confirmation, but Paige wasn’t fully convinced. “You can’t sleep anymore?” she asked gently, her thumb brushing over Azzi’s knuckles.

“No,” Azzi admitted quietly.

Paige tilted her head slightly, her lips brushing against Azzi’s hair as she murmured, “What do you need? I can make you some tea or something.”

Azzi hesitated, her mind swirling. The weight of the day, the relief of being held by Paige, and the pull of something deeper. Finally, after a long moment, she shifted closer to Paige—though there was hardly any space left between them—and guided Paige’s hand lower, resting over her waistband, silently telling her what she wanted.

Paige stilled for a moment, processing Azzi’s request. Then, her fingers tightened slightly around Azzi’s hand. “Are you sure?” Paige whispered, making sure Azzi was fully in control of what she wanted.

Azzi turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting Paige’s in the faint light spilling in through the blinds. “Yeah,” she whispered back, her voice steady despite the vulnerability in her gaze.

Paige leaned forward, pressing a soft lingering kiss to Azzi’s lips. She then trailed a few more kisses down Azzi’s neck, her movements slow, giving Azzi time to change her mind if she wanted to. Paige’s breath brushed against Azzi’s ear as she murmured, “Are you sure, Azzi?”

She nodded softly against Paige, her lips curving into the faintest smile. “Yes I’m sure,” she whispered.

Paige searched her face for another moment, wanting to be absolutely certain. When she found nothing but certainty in Azzi’s expression, she smiled back, her features softening. Her free hand brushed a strand of hair from Azzi’s face as she murmured, “Okay.”

She leaned in again, her lips trailing along Azzi’s jawline, her lips filled with nothing but care. Paige moved slowly, wanting to savor every moment and make sure Azzi felt safe after everything from earlier that night. After her lips have traced every part of Azzis neck, Paige softly grabs her jaw pulling her towards into a soft kiss. Their lips and tongues dance with one another perfectly as Paige leads them.

The kiss grew more urgent, both of them succumbing to the warmth spreading through their bodies and the slight alcohol still in their system. It was the kind of heat that made the air feel heavier, the kind that drew them closer despite the impossibleness of closing the already nonexistent gap between them.

Paige let out a low groan when Azzi nipped at her bottom lip, sending a shiver down her spine that she felt all the way to her toes. Azzi smirked against Paige’s lips at the sound, emboldened by how easily she could unravel her.

Trying to turn in Paige’s arms to face her fully, Azzi shifted, but Paige tightened her hold, her hands firm as they kept Azzi in place. “Stay like this,” Paige murmured against her lips, her voice rough and breathless.

Azzi sighed softly at the words, her body relaxing into Paige’s as she allowed herself to be guided, her hands coming up to rest on top of Paige’s that were trailing up Azzi’s stomach to palm her breast under her sports bra. Making Azzi moan quietly.

Her head tilting slightly to give Paige more space, their lips meeting again in a kiss that was softer this time but no less consuming.

The world outside their little bubble ceased to exist. There was nothing but the sound of their uneven breaths and the muffled sounds of their kisses filling the 3 a.m. silence. Paige squeezed Azzi’s chest slightly, her palm warm as it anchored Azz here and there, Azzi couldn’t help the way her chest rose and fell a little quicker, her heart racing each time Paige palmed her breast or circling her fingers, as she surrendered to the moment.

The air between them is a little sticky with heat, the silence punctuated only by the occasional gasp or hum of pleasure as Paige's hand explores more boldly. Azzi's breath hitches when Paige's lips trail lower again, brushing against the soft skin of her neck, as she sucks softly here and there. A warmth spreads through Azzi and she tilts her head to give Paige more room, her body quickly reacting in ways she hadn't expected. It usually took her so much longer.

Paige is completely lost in the moment too, her fingers grazing over Azzi's skin, exploring the curves of her body with a gentle urgency.

She can feel the quick rhythm of Azzi's heartbeat beneath her touch and the slight tremor in her movements every time she takes a deep breath. It's a silent conversation between them, that speaks of trust and longing, of desires barely held in check.

Paige pauses just for a moment, her lips hovering over Azzi's skin. "Can I leave marks?" she whispers again, her voice still soft but filled with a hint of need. Azzi reaches back as her fingers curl into Paige's hair, tugging her down to meet her lips for a moment. "Just make sure it’s below my jersey," she murmurs.

Paige nods at this as she goes back to sucking on Azzi’s neck, only sucking harshly when she angled herself enough to be near her chest. This made Azzi hum quietly each time as she grew more needy.

The tension between them thickens as Azzi, unable to hold herself back, pushes herself back against Paige with more urgency.

Paige doesn't hesitate, sensing her need, and her hand slides into Azzi’s shorts down to where Azzi's body is calling out for more. The touch alone causes a soft whimper to escape Azzi’s as Paige drags her fingers through her wetness.

Azzi's whimpers, her body reacting immediately to the feeling. Paige smiles to herself, the sound of Azzi's breathless response sending a rush of heat through her.

"How do you like it, pretty girl?" Paige whispers, her voice low and teasing Azzi a little as she continues rubbing against her, brushing her lips along Azzi's neck.

Azzi barely manages to catch her breath, her eyes fluttering closed. It's almost too much for her to process, her body demanding more but her mind clouded with desire that she never wants to end. She struggles to find her voice, a soft tremble in her response. "I don’t know... I haven’t done a lot," she breathes, her words catching.

Paige chuckles softly, her lips gently tracing the outline of Azzi's jaw, coaxing her to speak. "You still gotta tell me what you want," she murmurs, her thumb brushing Azzi's lips.

Azzi, breath hitching, whines quietly in response, the word spilling out of her before she even fully realizes it. "Rough."

A slow hum escapes Paige at the confession. There's a slight pause, a moment where she evaluates, making sure Azzi is sure. "You wanna try it?" she asks.

Azzi nods, eyes half-lidded, her voice almost a whisper. "Just a little for now."

Paige nods with a small, satisfied smile.

"Mm. Okay." She adjusts so she can tangle her fingers in Azzi’s hair to tug slightly, pulling her head back just enough to expose more of her neck. Her other hand continues its journey, her movements deliberate as she works Azzi up, feeling Azzi's pulse quicken beneath her touch.

Azzi immediately gasps as Paige yanks her hair back again and inserts her fingers at the same time. Paige keeping Azzi close as she works her fingers in and out.

Azzi, who has always prided herself on her composure, found herself straining to stay silent. Every brush of Paige’s lips, every gentle tug of her hands in Azzi’s hair and the way she was moving in and out of her with ease, sent shockwaves through Azzi that begged for release in the form of a sound. But she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, refusing to let the smallest escape.

Their situation was far too complicated for anyone to find out like this, especially not their teammates. Azzi’s mind flickered briefly to how disastrous it would be if someone heard them, but even that thought wasn’t enough to fully pull her back from the haze of desire Paige had her in.

Paige noticed the tension in Azzi’s body and the shallow rise and fall of her chest. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she trailed kisses and bites along the column of Azzi’s neck, testing just how far she could push her.

“Struggling, huh?” Paige whispered, her lips brushing the shell of Azzi’s ear.

Azzi shivered but didn’t respond, her nails digging slightly into Paige’s arm definitely leaving nail marks. She bit her lip harder, trying to focus on anything other than the way Paige’s mouth was wreaking havoc on her self-control.

Paige chuckled softly at her silence, the sound vibrating against Azzi’s skin and making it even harder for her to stay quiet. “Relax,” Paige murmured, her voice softer now, her lips pressing a kiss just below Azzi’s ear. “I’ll make sure you stay quiet.”

The reassurance helped, only a little, but it was still a battle for Azzi to keep her composure. Her heart raced as she nodded faintly, leaning back into Paige, trusting her to keep them both grounded.

They stayed just like that for some time. Paige whispering in Azzi’s ear as she worked in and out of her and Azzi biting her lip or pushing her face into the pillow to try to muffle some of the sounds slipping out of her.

Eventually Azzi starts pushing herself further into Paige trying to match her rhythm as Paige's grip tightens in Azzi's hair, pulling her head back just enough for her lips to brush against Azzi's ear. Her voice a little rough, full of her restrained desire as she mumbled, “You feel so fucking good.”

Azzi whimpered at the words, her breathing unsteady as she said, “It’s so hard to stay quiet.” Her voice cracked slightly, her desperation evident, and it made Paige’s chest tighten in the best way.

“I know,” Paige chuckled softly, her tone laced with amusement. “I can tell.” Her lips grazed Azzi’s jawline before she whispered, “You’re doing so good.”

The praise sent heat through Azzi’s legs, and before she could stop herself, she was desperately reaching back to grab Paige's head and pulling her into a desperate kiss. It was the only way she could think to quiet herself, to channel everything she was feeling without letting any more sounds escape.

Paige groaned softly into her kiss, her hands sinking deeper into Azzi, her other hand still tangled in her hair as she held her firmly in place. She met Azzi’s need with her own, kissing her deeply, almost possessively. Azzi whimpered again at the new angle, and Paige swallowed the sound, her lips and tongue moving against Azzi’s in a way that made the world around them disappear.

Azzi’s neediness grew, her hands clutching at Paige as if letting go would shatter her. The kiss deepened further, their breaths mingling as Azzi melted into Paige, unable to think of anything but the way her body responded to Paige as if it had never been touched before.

Paige pulled back just enough to murmur against Azzi’s lips, her voice breathless but teasing. “You still good on being quiet?”

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed as she whispered, “Not if you keep fucking me like this.”

Paige chuckles before leaning back down to pull Assi into a kiss as she continues working her fingers in and out of Azzi. She wants to do so much more to her but she’s taking it slow for Azzi who is less experienced. Not long after, Azzi's legs are squeezing around Paige's hand as she starts to chase her release.

Paige senses Azzi's growing struggle to stay quiet, knowing just how difficult it’s going to be. So she brings her free arm under Azzi, guiding her hand to Azzi’s lips. “Bite down,” Paige whispers, her voice low.

Azzi hesitates for a moment, confusion flashing across her face before the pressure builds as Paige starts curling her fingers perfectly as she adds her thumb to Azzi’s clit. Feeling overwhelmed by this she does exactly as Paige instructed. Her teeth sinking into Paige’s hand, a sharp, almost desperate grip as her body starts trembling. Her legs squeezing Paige’s hand impossibly tight as she finishes all over her hand.

The sensation sends a wave of heat through Paige, but the bite is harsh, almost painful, as Azzi fights to stay silent. Paige, feeling the intensity of the bite, clenches her jaw but when that's not enough she quickly presses her lips to Azzi's shoulder, the sting of her own discomfort igniting a need to counter it. Her teeth graze Azzi's skin, just enough to distract from the sharp bite, as both of them are caught in the tension of the moment as Paige coaxes Azzi through her release.

As Azzi’s breathing finally began to slow, still uneven but no longer shaky as Paige pressed soft kisses to her shoulder and the back of her neck. Grounding Azzi as she murmured against her skin, “You’re so beautiful... so perfect Azzi….” Her voice was a soothing balm, wrapping Azzi in warmth.

Azzi felt herself going limp against Paige, her body almost like dead weight, but Paige didn’t let go. She held her firmly.

After some time, Azzi shifted, turning to face Paige. Her brown eyes were hazy, her lips slightly parted as she tried to process the moment. Paige reached up, her wet fingers brushing Azzi’s lips gently.

“Open,” Paige whispered, her voice soft but commanding.

Still in a daze, Azzi obeyed without hesitation, parting her lips as Paige slid her fingers into Azzi’s mouth letting her taste herself. Azzi instinctively wrapped her lips around them, her eyes fluttering as she felt the intimacy of the gesture. Paige’s eyes softened, a quiet smile gracing her lips as she watched Azzi experience something new, her thumb of her free hand brushing over Azzi’s cheek.

Paige slowly withdrew her fingers, leaning in to kiss Azzi tenderly. Their lips met in a slow kiss that felt like a question and an answer all at once. When they finally broke apart, Paige cupped Azzi’s face, her thumb grazing her jawline.

“You okay?” Paige asked, her blue eyes searching Azzi’s for any hint of hesitation or regret.

Azzi nodded, her eyes hooded, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, “Yeah... I’m more than okay.”

"Come here," Paige whispered softly, as she tugged Azzi closer. Azzi let herself be pulled, settling onto Paige’s chest with ease. Her head rested just over Paige’s heart, and the steady, rhythmic sound filled her ears. It wasn’t completely calm, though—it was hammering in her chest, quick and unsteady, a stark contrast to the soothing hand Paige had resting on her back.

Azzi tilted her head slightly, her voice quiet. “Your heart’s beating fast.”

Paige let out a soft chuckle, the vibrations against Azzi’s cheek. “Of course it is,” she admitted, but she didn’t offer any further explanation. She didn’t need to—Azzi already knew what it meant.

Azzi opened her mouth to say something, to ask if Paige was sure about all of this, but before she could, Paige leaned down and caught her lips in another kiss. It wasn’t rushed or full of heat like the others they’d shared tonight—it was grounding, a soft reassurance.

When they broke apart, Paige murmured, “Just relax Az. We can talk about it later.”

Azzi nodded, settling back into Paige’s chest as her breathing evened out. She reached down to intertwine their hands, wanting the simple connection, but she froze when her fingers brushed against Paige’s hand. Her eyes widened slightly as she felt the harsh indentations there.

She gasped softly. “Oh my God,” Azzi whispered, realizing she’d left marks.

Paige chuckled again, her tone more playful this time. “Yeah… I don’t know what the hell you’re going to do when I start doing everything else.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, letting out a small laugh as she tucked herself back against Paige’s chest. The teasing didn’t faze her at all because she knew it was lighthearted. Instead, she focused on the comforting rhythm of Paige’s heartbeat, the sound lulling her further into a state of peace she hasn’t felt in a while.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Azzi allowed herself to sink into the moment fully. As she listened to Paige’s heartbeat, soothing her to sleep, the truth she’d been fighting hard to ignore surfaced in her mind. She was in love with Paige. Completely and irrevocably.

And for once, she didn’t feel the need to push it away as she kissed Paige’s neck softly before drifting in her arms.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

His

Summary: Javi can't get enough of you (aka idk how to summarize this other than it's pwp whoops)

Word Count: 1.8K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader

Warnings: ... again, this is straight up pwp, unprotected p in v sex, rough(er) sex, breeding kink (I'm sorry!! I'm sorry!! It's physically impossible to not!!), praise kink, big, nasty creampie, cum play, 1 use of daddy and papí (but like, that's the goal), an ass smack, prone bone and the one position from s2e3 of Narcos because I say so!!! also sweet, tooth rotting fluff because I don't know how to write any other way

A/N: She's nothing, if not consistent, your honor 🤠 You'll have to pry Javier Peña and his big, fat breeding kink out of my cold, dead hands before I stop writing about it!!!!!! Figured what better way to break a hiatus than letting the ovulation demons do the lords work for me to post some smut on tumblr dot com, hope y'all enjoy!!!

Never Too Late Masterlist

“Fuck, Javi!” 

The only thing that’s keeping you from waking up your neighbors with the volume of your moans is the way Javi has you pressed against the mattress, muffling the sound of you screaming his name as he pounds into you, over and over. 

You swear he could smell it on you from the second he walked through the door, how you had been craving him all day. Just the thought of him alone was enough to make you ache with unbearable need and want. From the moment he left for work this morning, you were counting down the hours until he got home so you could climb him like a goddamn tree. 

But then again, how can anyone blame you when he’s the one who instigated it in the first place? 

“I swear to god, when I get home, I’m not letting you out of the fucking bed tonight ‘till I knock you up.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise, Javi?” 

“Both.” 

Javi’s always been a man of his word, but with the way he’s fucking you right now, it makes you wonder if he’s ever planning on letting you out of the bed again. 

“That’s it baby girl, let me hear it.” 

You can feel the way the words rumble in his chest, pressed against your back as he fucks into you, deeper and harder with each thrust. The grip around your intertwined fingers tighten, practically melting you into the bed with the weight of his broad body is pinning you down, caging you beneath him. 

Heat is radiating off him, the tacky sheen of sweat pooling where your skin meets, Javi’s hips flushed against the meat of your ass. He’s already got you three orgasms deep, but there’s just something addictive about Javi that always has you begging for more, desperate to cum around his cock over and over again until you have nothing left to give. 

“Oh my god- fuck. Fuck, Javi, I want more baby, please. Fuck me harder- oh fuck-” 

You swear you can feel his smirk creeping into the corners of his cheeks as he kisses your shoulder, relishing in the mess he’s already made you, and yet, you still can’t seem to get enough of him. 

“You want more, hermosa? Let me hear you, baby.” Javi coos, purposely slowing his pace down just enough to make you whimper, quietly laughing to himself at the way he can feel you back your ass up against his hips, trying to keep yourself as full of him as you can. 

“I want it, I want more, baby, please.” You whine, craning your neck behind you just enough to see the devilish grin Javi has plastered across his face. 

“You gonna be a good girl and take everything I have to give you? Let me fill you up until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ stick?” He groans, the thought of fucking himself so deep inside you that nine months from now, he’ll be the reason for your growing family, igniting something indescribably primal in him. 

“Yes! Yes, please, fuck- I’ll take all of it!” 

It’s borderline pathetic how many octaves your voice has climbed as you beg him for more, a pitch and volume so loud and high you nearly startle yourself with your response. You can hear Javi sigh and curse under his breath. You’re not sure if it’s because having you like this drives him crazy, or if having you like this drives him so crazy, he’s worried he’ll bust right then and there if he doesn’t control himself. 

Your response has him shifting behind you, sitting back on his knees and gripping his fingers into the meat of your sides to force your bottom half up, one hand letting go to smack your ass just hard enough for your breath to hitch in the back of your throat. 

You’re not sure how, but the new position has him feeling even fuller, stretching you out to the point of pleasure filled sobs as he starts to pound against your g-spot, each thrust rougher than the last. 

You’re so wet that the sound of him sliding in and out of your cunt is almost as loud as the noise of his skin slapping against yours. That, combined with the lewd panting and moaning heaving from each of your chests, has the room sounding like you could easily give any porno ever produced a run for its money. 

“Love this pussy so fucking much. Always so fucking wet and tight for me. Whose pussy is this, baby?” Javi asks, his once smug demeanor quickly dissipating as he chokes out his question through gritted teeth, so drunk on you he can barely think straight. 

“Yours! Fuck, fuck fuck- It’s yours, Javi.” You sob, fisting at your bedsheets so tightly, you’re convinced it won’t be long until your knuckles turn white. 

“Fucking right, it is. Fuck you so full of me that I knock you up, make sure- mierda- make sure everyone knows you’re all mine. That what you want, Mami?” 

“Yes, y-yes! Oh fuck- yes! ” 

Javi gets one more smack at your ass before he reaches around to scoop you up from your front, draping his arm across your chest to flush it with his back, never letting the pace of his hips falter. If he wasn’t holding you up, you’re positive you’d be limp, so all consumed by pleasure that it’s engulfed every inch of your body. to keep yourself upright. 

His free arm snakes around to find your clit, whimpering as the pads of his fingers rub tight circles around the bundle of nerves. The undeniable tingle at the base of your spine is beginning to build again, the all too familiar clamping of your cunt around Javi’s cock growing tighter by the second. 

You can all but feel him in your stomach, every inch of him sunk as deep as you can take him, backing your ass into him to counter every snap of his hips. You shoot your hand behind you, digging your nails into whatever part of his thigh you can find to brace yourself on as he fucks into relentlessly, only egged on by the fact he knows how close you are. 

“You got one more for me, baby?” Javi mewls, nipping at your neck while the hot words of his breath dance across your skin. “One more time before I cum so fucking deep inside you?” 

You’re not sure how you even have the capacity to form words, nodding your head in compliance as you try your best to string together something comprehensible as the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter. 

“Y-yes, oh fuck- want you to fill me up. Put a baby in me, please, papí.“ 

“Fuck me.” Javi huffs under his breath, furrowing his brow in an intense focus to keep from fulfilling your request preemptively. “Cum for me, Hermosa. Cum all over my cock, and I promise I will.” 

It only takes a few more frantic strokes before you’re collapsing around him, orgasm shooting through your body with such radiating pleasure, you’re not even sure you’re on this earth anymore. The way he’s pinning your nearly limp body to his, pounding into you relentlessly to chase his own high is almost too much, but you’ll take it. You’ll take everything he has to give because it means that you’re his. 

“That’s my girl.” Javi coos, sliding the hand that had been rubbing at your clit up your chest, stopping to wrap around your jaw, just firm enough to dip your head back to rest against his shoulder. “My good fucking girl.” 

His head is buried in the crook of your neck, pants and moans muffled against your skin, growing louder with each snap of his hips, each one more reckless and sloppy than the last. You can barely make out the words he’s mumbling into your ear, his brain just as jumbled as yours as he nears his finish line. 

“I have so much fucking cum for you. Gonna fuck it so deep in you, it’ll- oh fuck- it’ll fucking take. Fill up this pussy with every last- shit- every last fucking drop. Fuck!” 

It’s a low groan that rumbles in his chest first, followed by a strangled whimper that dies somewhere in the back of his throat as his hips stutter, hot ropes of his spend spilling inside of you while he cums. You know he doesn’t dare let a drop go to waste, that he’ll keep his cock stuffed inside your cunt until you’ve milked him of every ounce he has to give. 

And fuck, he wasn’t lying when he said plenty to give. 

You can’t even tell where your body ends and his begins, melded together as one, his length nestled so deep inside you, you can feel all of him pulsing while his seed overflows, leaking out pussy and dripping down your thighs. You know there’s nothing more Javi wants than to keep every last drop inside your cunt, but the best he can do with how much he has to give is to keep fucking it into you, forcing hips to thrust deeper in sync with the heavy heaves of his chest until you’re all but sobbing. 

“It’s- fuck- it’s so much, Javi, fuck-” You whimper, jaw slack at the slick, sticky mess pooling around the base of his cock. 

“Jesus, fuck- I know, baby. I know, but you’re taking me so fucking well.” He coos, softly kissing your neck and shoulder before shifting your body to lay you down, somehow remembering to grab a pillow from his side of the bed to prop under your hips before your back hits the mattress. 

You hiss at the loss of Javi inside you, the sharp breath quickly replaced by a gasp as you the next plop of cum dripping out of your hole caught by Javi’s fingers, sliding up your soaked folds to gently press back into your cunt. He uses the last bit of strength he has to part your legs just enough to make room for his head, leaning down just enough to pepper soft kisses to your clit, trailing up your stomach and chest until he collapses next to you. 

The both of you lay there for a moment in silence, nothing left to fill the room but the post-orgasmic haze you’ve left behind, catching your breath as you try to let your brain sync back up to your body. 

“Javi… Javi, holy fuck.” You huff, the corners of your cheeks turning upwards in a cheeky grin as you roll your head to face him, giggling at the wide eyed, fucked out expression his face still can’t seem to shake. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi sighs, shaking his head in disbelief before running his hand through the sweat-dampened curls of his hair, prying them from the damp mat they’ve made on his forehead.  

“You came so hard, Jav.” You softly giggle, scooting close enough to lay your cheek against his chest, smiling as he drapes his arm across your back to pull you in closer. 

“Yeah, I know. Fuck, I haven’t cum that hard in a long time.” Javi smirks, fingers drawing gentle patterns on the warm skin of your back. 

“Trying to knock me up really turns you on that much, huh?” You tease, the two of you laughing like you didn’t already know the answer, or that he couldn’t say the same for you. “It’s hot.” 

“Yeah?” Javi asks, biting down on the plush of his lower lip as he raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Mhmmm. You’re already about to be the hottest DILF known to man, makes it that much hotter how badly you want to be a daddy.” 

Even though Javi rolls his eyes at you, trying his best to hide the boyish grin stretched between his cheeks. You snicker at the pink flush of his face, leaning over to leave a lingering kiss on his lips, both your smiles meeting each other’s mouths. 

“Fuck me.” Javi sighs, quietly laughing to himself, carefully brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. 

“Again? Already? Hate to break it to ya, but I think it’s safe to say you’ve got nothing left in the tank there, Jav.” 

This eye roll makes him grin even harder, supring on your giggles with the ticklish kisses he pecks across your body as payback for your awful joke. 

“You’re such a fucking dork. God, I love you.” 

“Love you more, idiot.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Barter 2

Warnings: suggestions of death, I am a dark blog and I write dark things.

Summary: You are bargained to be wife to the witcher if he can slew the beast in the village.

Character: Geralt of Rivia

**note, I am not a Witcher genius or aficionado and so I may get some things wrong.

As usual, I appreciate any and all feedback and enthusiasm. Please reblog and leave a comment. Love! 😍

You watch the witcher set off into the fog from between the slats of the barn. It’s been a fortnight crammed into the space. The stench has faded to something tolerable but the tension hasn’t. 

The now orphaned maiden clings to your arm. That’s what she is now. The man in black all but confirmed it. His horse tramps off into oblivion without hesitation as he sits tall in his saddle, disappearing into the haze. You sit back as your companion sniffles. 

“They’re dead? All of them?” 

“It would seem,” you sigh and lean on the wall.  

Your sister was a sweet girl but even before the revelation, you had little hope. Especially as your mother went to search and did not return. Your father has only you and your brother left. Marsh is a child still but he will grow into his legacy, so long as you father lasts that long. 

“How could this happen to us? Why Krescent? We are a good pious village,” she whines, her sniveling grating your addled nerves. 

“Bad things happen to all, regardless of prayers,” you resign. 

“That is blaspheme,” she accuses. 

“It is the truth. It has happened to all in the wretched place. And if this witcher should be able to slay the evil, then I too shall walk off to my own doom, only a living one.” 

She looks at you with her watery eyes. They are such a pale shade of green that they look almost yellow. She always reminded you of a swampy witch, the ones in the stories you whispered so the elders did not hear. 

“I suppose...” she begins, “marriage is destined to all. It shouldn’t be such a surprise.” 

“To him?” You wonder grimly. “Perhaps, at least, I will be away from this cursed land, that I should not look upon it and think of my...” your voice catches as the witcher’s words crash upon you. Your legs buckle and you slide down the wall and fold against your knees. “They truly are gone.” 

Caralyn mops away her tears as she kneels at your side. Your own eyes do not weep though your chest concaves. You brace your head as your elbows rest on your knees. You take a deep breath. 

“My father did not protest,” you murmur. “He is too dumbed without my mother to do anything.” You look at her, still hunched, “you must promise to look after Marsh.” 

“I promise,” she avows and brushes your sleeve softly. “I will keep him close to my own brothers and sisters, now that it is up to me to see to them.” 

You nod and frown deeper, “I’m deeply sorry for your parents, Caralyn. They were always so kind.” 

“So kind, I do wonder why it should be them instead of me,” her eyes spring with tears again and she lowers herself to her bottom. She wipes her nose messily and heaves.  

You wring your hands. You wonder the same of your mother and sister. How can it be that Lessa would wander off and you would be left behind to miss her. Your mother was always the order in your life and now it is chaos. 

Along with grief, is more terror. What should happen should the fogler, or whatever he called, it not desist? What if the witcher were to defeat the monster? Should he really claim your hand? A wife?  

Caralyn is right, it is not great surprise to be wed. It is a young woman’s fate but this... what sort of wife can you be to someone like him. The tainted. The sort spat upon at even the lowest tavern. 

“He was not... hideous,” Caralyn suggests as if reading your thoughts. 

You scrunch your nose at her, “how he looks is the least of my woes.” 

“Tall. Strong.” She offers. 

“Car, stop,” you chide. 

“You must... must try to hearten,” she shifts closer so her legs touch yours and she leans a little, as if to comfort you. “As our mothers would always tell us, we must be good wives one day. No matter who. I’m certain if you prove a good loyal wife, he would not treat you as one of his beasts.” 

You stare at her and hum. She is not incorrect. You were never to choose your husband so it should be that it doesn’t matter so much who it is. Only that you serve him well. 

“A man is a man, even if witcher he be,” she declares. 

[sosa2imagines]

Hey can I please request a Lloyd x reader where she is his ex-wife but he wants her back? Maybe they have a child together (they're the only people who he is really sweet and soft with, he lights up when he sees them) and idk maybe their child wants them together too? He's trying to find excuses to see her or kiss her and he has their child as a support?

Idk whatever you find interesting or have inspo for ❤️

Thank you for this amazing ask. I hope you like it. Warning- Little angst and fluff.

Your hands tremble slightly as you pack your son's backpack for his weekend with Lloyd. It’s a routine exchange, one you've done countless times since the divorce, but the familiar ache always lingers. 

Sharing custody of Victor is always a bittersweet affair. Every time you see him, the resemblance to his father becomes more and more apparent. His bright eyes and mischievous smile are like a living reminder of what you once had together. Yet, despite the pang in your heart, you push your feelings aside, knowing that this arrangement is for the best.

The doorbell rings, and you exhale deeply before opening it.

Lloyd stands before you, immaculate in his polo shirt and with that same cocky smirk you've come to know all too well. Despite your best efforts, your pulse quickens at the sight of him, a reaction you've tried to suppress but have never been able to completely control.

Damn that moustache! Always been your weakness.

You fix your expression, forcing a neutral smile as you step aside to let him in. You're used to this routine by now, but the sight of him still dredges up a mix of emotions you'd rather keep bottled up.

“Ready for our little guy?” he asks, his voice annoyingly smooth, like melted chocolate. Victor bolts past you, yelling, “Daddy!” as Lloyd scoops him up effortlessly, peppering his son's face with exaggerated kisses that make the boy squeal with laughter.  

When your son was born, Lloyd had named him Victor, saying he's his biggest victory in life.

You force a polite smile, ignoring the way Lloyd's eyes flick to yours, softening. He always looks at you like that, like you're still the most important thing in his world, even after everything.  

After Sierra Six.  

The memory burns like acid. Sierra Six had been your breaking point. Lloyd's obsession with catching the rogue operative consumed him, pulling him deeper into his dangerous world and further away from you. You had begged him to walk away, to prioritize his family, but he couldn’t let it go.  

“You don't understand, Sugar!” he'd said during one of your final arguments, his voice sharp but his eyes pleading. “This isn't just a mission. It's personal.”  

It became personal for you too, when Six's retaliation nearly cost you and Victor your lives. A car bomb meant for Lloyd had detonated outside your home, leaving shards of glass and smoke as a grim reminder of the risk you couldn’t live with anymore. You’d left that night, taking Victor with you, and filed for divorce shortly after.  

“Thanks for packing his stuff…” Lloyd says now, breaking you out of your thoughts. He hesitates, then adds, “You could come with us, you know? We're just going to the park.”  

“That’s your time with him…” you reply, keeping your tone neutral.  

Victor tugs at your sleeve. “But, Mommy, you should come! Daddy says he misses you.”  

Your breath catches, and Lloyd clears his throat, awkwardly running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “Victor, buddy, why don't you go grab your soccer ball from the car?”  

Once Victor bounds away, Lloyd steps closer. “He’s not wrong…” he says softly, his gaze holding yours.  

“Lloyd…” You start to protest, but he cuts you off.  

“I know I screwed up. I know I didn’t protect you the way I should have, but I’m trying, Sugar. I’m trying to fix things. For you. For Victor. For us.”  

You cross your arms, a shield against the vulnerability in his voice. “You can’t just say these things and expect everything to magically go back to how it was.”  

“Then let me show you...” he says, taking another step closer. His hand brushes yours, testing waters. “Let me prove it to you.”  

Before you can respond, Victor runs back, his soccer ball in hand. “I got it! Mommy, are you coming with us?”  

Lloyd kneels down, pulling Victor into a side hug. “Tell you what, buddy. Why don’t we see if we can convince Mommy to join us next time, huh?”  

Victor pouts dramatically, his big eyes, the same shade of blue as his father’s turns on you, “Please, Mommy? Daddy says families should stick together.”  

Your heart squeezes at the sight of them, your two boys. Lloyd stands, his eyes never leaving yours, and he leans down just slightly, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath.  

“Think about it…” he murmurs, before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. It lingers, a promise in its tenderness, and leaves you standing there, your resolve crumbling ever so slightly.  

As they walk away, Victor waves enthusiastically, and Lloyd throws you a smile over his shoulder. It’s cocky and hopeful all at once, like he knows the kiss wasn’t just for show.  

Maybe, just maybe, he’ll find a way to win you back.  

The weekend passes slowly without Victor. You spend the quiet hours tidying up, trying to distract yourself from the lingering thoughts of Lloyd’s kiss and the words he left unspoken. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop replaying his plea, “Let me prove it to you.”  

On Sunday evening, Lloyd drops Victor off as planned. Your son runs inside, chattering about their adventures at the park, the ice cream truck they chased down, and how Daddy let him drive his tiny remote-controlled car.  

Lloyd lingers at the door.  

“Can I come in for a minute?” he asks. His tone is careful, cautious, as though he’s testing the waters.  

You hesitate, but something about the vulnerability in his expression makes you step aside. “Just for a minute…” you say.  

Victor is already in the living room, playing with his toys, oblivious to the quiet tension between you and his father.  

Lloyd takes a deep breath, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day. About things not magically going back to how they were.” He pauses, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’re right. They won’t. And they shouldn’t. Because I want things to be better than they were before.”  

You swallow hard, your heart beating faster, “Lloyd, I…”  

“Let me finish, Sugar.” His voice softens, and he steps closer, closing the distance between you. “I’m not asking you to forgive me overnight. I’m not asking you to forget what I did or the pain I caused. I just… I’m asking for a chance to show you that I’ve changed. That I’m trying to be the man you and Victor deserve.”  

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you hold them back. “You think one kiss and a few sweet words will fix everything?”  

“No!” he says firmly. “But I think being here, every day, showing you how much I care… that might. I’m not giving up on us, Sugar. Not now, not ever.”  

Before you can respond, Victor runs up to the two of you, holding a drawing in his little hands. “Look! I made this at Daddy’s house!”  

The picture is messy but a clear stick-figure family of three, all holding hands. Above it, in Victor’s uneven handwriting, are the words, “My family.”

Your chest tightens, and you glance at Lloyd, whose eyes are filled with unshed tears. He kneels down to Victor’s level, gently ruffling his hair. “That’s a beautiful drawing, buddy.”  

Victor grins and turns to you. “Mommy, don’t you think we should be a family again? Daddy’s been so sad without you.”  

You look down at your son, then at Lloyd, who is watching you with a mixture of hope and fear.  

“I don’t know, Victor,” you say softly. “It’s… complicated.”  

“But you love Daddy, right?” Victor asks innocently, his big blue eyes staring up at you.  

You hesitate, the truth sitting heavy on your tongue. “Yes…” you finally admit. “I do.”  

Lloyd stands, his expression unreadable. “Sugar, I know I’ve made mistakes. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for them if you’ll let me.”  

Victor tugs on your hand, his face lighting up with excitement. “Please, Mommy? Let Daddy stay.”  

The weight of the moment presses down on you. Slowly, you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay. Let’s see where this goes.”  

Lloyd’s eyes widen in surprise, and then a rare, genuine smile spreads across his face. “You mean it?”  

“Yes,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But you’re on thin ice, Hansen.”  

He chuckles, his confidence returning. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Sugar.”  

Victor cheers, throwing his arms around both of you, and for the first time in a long time, you feel a flicker of hope.  

Maybe, just maybe, you can be a family again.  

The days that follow are a whirlwind of emotions. Lloyd takes your cautious ‘okay’ as a challenge to prove himself, and he doesn’t waste any time.  

He starts small, picking Victor up from school, helping him with homework, and showing up at your door with dinner. Each time he’s around, you find yourself torn between wanting to push him away and feeling your walls crumble a little more.  

One evening, as you’re washing dishes, Lloyd appears beside you, drying a plate you hadn’t asked him to touch. “You know,” he says, his voice low and teasing, “we make a pretty good team.”  

“Lloyd, I don’t need your help.” you say, trying to focus on the sink.  

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “You might not need it, but I like being here. With you.”  

Your face heats up, and you elbow him gently. “Back off, Hansen.”  

But instead of retreating, he grins and presses a kiss to your temple, quick and soft. You whirl on him, glaring. “What do you think you’re doing?”  

“Testing my limits,” he replies smugly, holding up his hands as if in surrender. “You’re adorable when you’re mad.”  

You roll your eyes, but the blush on your cheeks betrays you. He notices, of course, and his grin only grows wider.  

Lloyd’s efforts intensifies over the period.

Over the next few weeks, Lloyd becomes a constant presence in your life. He shows up unannounced with groceries, fixes the broken cabinet in your kitchen, and even surprises Victor with a mini soccer goal for the backyard.  

One afternoon, while Victor is napping, you find yourself sitting on the porch with Lloyd. He’s unusually quiet, his gaze fixed on the horizon.  

“Why are you doing all this?” you ask, breaking the silence.  

He looks at you, his expression sincere. “Because I lost you once, Sugar. And I’m not making that mistake again. You and Victor… you’re everything to me.”  

The raw honesty in his voice leaves you speechless. Before you can think of a response, he leans in, brushing his lips against yours. It’s soft, tentative, as if he’s giving you a chance to pull away. But you don’t.  

When he deepens the kiss, his hand rests gently on your cheek, you lose yourself for a moment, the familiar warmth of him overwhelming your senses.  

When you finally pull back, your heart is racing. “You’re impossible…” you mutter, your cheeks burning.  

“And you’re beautiful,” he replies, his lips quirking into a lopsided smile. 

Despite your reluctance to admit it, Lloyd’s persistence begins to wear down your defenses. He’s patient with Victor, kind to you, and relentless in his mission to win you back.  

One night, as you’re tucking Victor into bed, he grabs your hand. “Mommy, do you still love Daddy?”  

Caught off guard, you glance at Lloyd, who’s standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.  

“I…” you start, unsure of how to answer.  

“I know you do,” Victor says confidently. “Because you smile more when he’s here.”  

Lloyd chuckles softly, stepping into the room. “Our kid is a great observer, you can’t hide anything from him.” he teases.  

“Go to sleep, Victor…” you say quickly, pressing a kiss to your son’s forehead before retreating to the living room.  

Lloyd follows you, closing the door behind him. “He’s not wrong, you know,” he says quietly.  

You sigh, turning to face him. “Lloyd, this isn’t easy for me. You broke my trust…”  

“And I’ll spend the rest of my life earning it back!” he interrupts, stepping closer. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved, and I’ll fight for you every day if that’s what it takes.”  

Tears well up in your eyes as you finally let the weight of his words sink in. “I’m scared…” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.   

“I know,” he whispers, cupping your face in his hands. “But I’m here, Sugar. I’m not going anywhere.”  

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of pancakes. Victor’s laughter echoes from the kitchen, and when you walk in, you see Lloyd standing at the stove, flipping pancakes like he’s been doing it for years.  

“Morning, Sugar,” he says, flashing you a boyish grin. “Thought I’d make breakfast for my family.”  

You shake your head, but there’s no hiding the smile on your face.  

Later that day, as the three of you play soccer in the backyard, Victor pauses and looks up at you. “Does this mean Daddy’s staying forever?”  

You glance at Lloyd, who’s watching you with hopeful eyes. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah, buddy... I think it does.”  

Victor cheers, throwing his arms around both of you. Lloyd pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your hair.  

“I love you…” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.  

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you could have your happy ending after all. 

 

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[the-court-of-dreams]

ONYX STORM SPOILERS

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Quotes that KILLED ME in Onyx Storm

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1)

To the ones who don’t run with the popular crowd, the ones who get caught reading under their desks, the ones who feel like they never get invited, included, or represented. Get your leathers. We have dragons to ride.

Books have always been a safe place for me. I still remember picking up The Hobbit when I was still a kid, closing my bedroom door and going on an adventure. I'm almost 25 now and I still love going on adventures. From magic schools to institutes, hidden cities to castles, forests to enormous capitals. With cars and ships and horses and broomsticks and dragons. Every story, a new adventure. Every book, a new journey. Oh, how I love travelling!

I only ever had one friend who loves reading as much as I do and our conversations about books, the hours we spend making theories, and analysing everything that happened... they are some of my most beloved moments. ( @strovilos , you are the joy of my life) My other friends don't understand as much, it's okay. I' ve always been the kid hiding books under my desk, staying up past my bedtime with a light under the covers. So yeah... that dedication really got me.

I was invited to places, but I almost never felt included while being there. That was okay too.

I always preferred riding dragons anyway.

2)

Xaden is mine. My heart, my soul, my everything. He channeled from the earth to save me, and I’ll scour the world until I find a way to save him right back.

Wow, that didn't take long at all, huh? Straight in the fucking feels.

3)

I could reach the rank of Maven, lead armies of dark wielders against everyone we care for, and watch every vein in my body turn red as I channel all the power in the Continent, and I would still love you. What I did doesn’t change that. I’m not sure anything can.

Such a good start for me and my fucking heart. Thanks, Rebecca... I really appreciate it.

4)

If I’m to be court-martialed for helping Braxtyn defend his people, then I shall welcome the trial. All who channel from dragon and gryphon alike should flourish under the wards, and now Aretia will be that haven should one of the others ever return.

Lyra... I fucking stan!

5)

So with all the love in my heart, put your fucking uniform on, because we need you.

Look, I'm not saying that Ridoc is my favourite character in this book... but... Ridoc IS my favourite character in this book.

I died with the whole squad dynamic, but the four of them will always hold a special place in my heart, I fucking love these kids.

6)

Even hundreds of miles away, he’s still taking care of me and doesn’t even know it.

I KNEW this godsdamned book would be full of angst....BUT DID IT HAVE TO BE ALL OF IT??? DID IT REBECCA????

7)

You might be angry when you realize I didn’t wake you to say goodbye. But it’s only because I no longer fully trust my ability to walk away.

—Recovered Correspondence of His Grace, Lieutenant Xaden Riorson, Sixteenth Duke of Tyrrendor, to Cadet Violet Sorrengail

FUCK ME MAN....Come on...WHYYYYYYY????

8)

But the thought of you being out there, beyond the wards, facing down a known attack of venin, triggered something in me I’ve never felt before. It was hotter than rage, and sharper than fear, and cut deeper than helplessness, all because I couldn’t get to you.

Fuck you.

9)

I would have killed anything and anyone in that moment to reach you. No exceptions. I would have channeled every ounce of power beneath my feet without hesitation if it would have landed me at your side.

Double fuck you.

10)

If I’d been there, beyond the wards, I would have drained the very earth to its core to keep you safe.

TRIPLE FUCKING FUCK YOU!!!!

11)

Pain isn’t new to me, Jack. She’s an old friend I spend most of my days with, so I don’t mind if she sings to you.

Violet Sorrengail... you are the most badass bitch to ever badass. (I feel like that's SUCH a Remi thing to say. Fucking finally.... iykyk. Shout out to @skyfallscotland for writing fucking masterpieces. Getting notifications from you always makes my day. If any of you are into fanfcition, i STRONGLY recommend reading everything this girl has written. You can start with Fear and Flame. Thank me, and HER, later.)

12)

“We live by the Codex—” I try again.

“I live by you. When have I ever given a fuck about the Codex or the Code of Conduct?” He cradles my face and leans down, resting his forehead against mine. “I am yours and you are mine, and there’s no law or rule in this world or the next that will change that.”

I love them so much it hurts.

13)

Love of my life. You have nothing to be jealous of.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

14)

“There’s no magic here.” He tugs me against him. “No power. No lure. No taunting reminder that I can save everyone if I just reach for it and take what’s offered. It’s only…peace.”

For the first time since fetching the luminary, I seriously debate Tecarus’s offer.

When I tell you this book was PAINFUL for me....I'M NOT FUCKING KIDDING.

15)

"...Sgaeyl…" He glances up at the trees as if he can see her in the sky above us, a look of longing on his face.

If I had a dollar for everytime this book broke my fucking heart.

16)

“My consort,” Xaden replies casually. “Violet Sorrengail.”

I'm deceased.

17)

I can’t quit watching Xaden’s eyes in case their flecks change back to gold whenever I see him during Signet Sparring.

They never do.

Like my heart will never again NOT be broken for these two.

18)

“The pain. The mess. Give it to me. I’ll hold it. I know that sounds ludicrous, but I’ll find a way.” I lace our fingers. “I will hold everything you don’t want to feel because I love every part of you.”

This ship... this fucking ship...

19)

“Seems Catriona has found someone worth lagging behind for.”

I loathed her in the previous book....but gods did the poor girl go through it in this one....

20)

“There is no cure for me.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “That’s why you have to become better than me. There’s only you.”

I seriously don't know why I'm putting myself through this torture.

21)

When things get…shitty, I hope you can look down at it and imagine us sitting there together when this is all over. That’s the vision I’m going to cling to: you and me, holding hands, looking over the city.

This right here broke whatever soul I thought I had left. It just hurts so much when the characters cling to a future that I fucking know isn't going to happen.

22)

It’s almost like this room is removed from time itself, a tiny corner of the world where we simultaneously live together yet don’t.

Rebecca literally...WHYYYYY????

23)

I didn’t reach for any form of power because even in that state, I knew it could take me back to day zero, and day zero doesn’t give me you. I clawed my way back to myself and left.

Screaming, crying, throwing up.

24)

While most deities allow temple attendants to choose their timeline of service, only two require a lifetime of dedication: Dunne and Loial. For both war and love change souls irrevocably.

For the love of Gods, please let this be some kind of clue.

25)

I love you more than this city. Do not die defending it.

Screaming. Crying. Throwing up.

26)

At some point I’ll stop looking for her, right?

I KNOW Andarna had her reasons... but my girl Violet did not deserve that after everything she's been through.

27)

His smile instantly becomes a core memory.

MY smile instantly becomes a core memory....as in I don't think I'll have one again.

28)

You’re not a weapon of destruction. You’re not venin. You’re the artery power chooses to flow through. You’re life.

I fucking ship this SO MUCH. I love me some enemies to lovers, slow burn, full of angst shit.

29)

When push comes to shove, I'm not the best of us. She is.

YES VIOLET, THAT'S YOUR BESTIE!!!!!!

30)

“That’s a little menacing,” I admit to Feirge. “Then let us be menaces,”

I ADORE multiple povs. I've been waiting for Rhi's and Imogen's pov for 3 books, and I was NOT disappointed. Wish I could have more of them though.

31)

She’ll rip the very sky apart before she and Glane accept defeat.

GO IMOGEN! GO! GO! GO!

32)

The flame of perpetual rage that lives in my chest burns hotter. Fuck that horde. Fuck the venin who ride them. Fuck that unholy vortex of a tornado at the end of the northern field, and fuck the orders to stay grounded in these winds.

FUCK! I love this girl so damn much.

33)

I’m glad it’s you with me. Parapet to Malek’s own doorstep. I’m so sorry I have to go first this time.

To be honest, I didn't really care about Quinn for three books now... but I SOBBED in these 3 pages.

34)

And you should tell him, Gen. Tell him, and you find some happy.

And the fact that she preached for my second favourite ship of the series with her dying breath??? Miss Quinn, you have my heart. I didn't care for your existence for three books, but man, did you get me in the end.

35)

“We made it a good one.”

This one cut me so fuckign deep I had to stop for a good ten minutes. I did not see it coming. I did not think I'd care. I still don't understand why I did. But I really, really did.

36)

“I’m not leaving you!” He leans in and slides his hand behind my neck. “I’m not leaving you, Imogen,” he repeats, softer this time.

If these two don't end up together, I'm gonna make it everybody's problem. I PROMISE!

37)

“You have been the gift of my life,” I tell Tairn.

I've read some theories that Tairn will die in the end... First of all...HOW DARE YOU? And second of all... REBECCA DON'T YOU DARE, I WILL-

38)

She was the first to choose me, to elevate me above all others, the first to see every ugly side of me and accept it all, and every single person in this fucking canyon will die before they remove a single one of her scales.

The fact that Xaden channeled for Violet but really turned to save Sgaeyl... I did not expect that. And although it was painful as fuck to read through... to me it was perfect and a job really well done.

39)

Shadow brings quiet. My soul departs like pieces of ash from a fire, flaking free and drifting away as power consumes the space it once inhabited. I’m no longer on the ice—I am the ice.

Xaden...baby...no....

40)

Save them, the last remaining pieces of me beg, holding on with teeth and claw to keep from being torn away, too.

I will never... ever... recover from this.

41)

“I love you.” Violet’s voice cracks the cold, and a silken thread of warmth wedges itself in the opening before it seals shut, locking it in place.

No. Wait. I grab for that thread with desperate hands, clawing to keep her as more of my pieces are blown away, lost to the void. She is warmth and light and air and love.

This was so fucking painful to read I literally have no fucking words.

44)

I love her. That is the emotion I cling to, the fire of pure power burning at the feeling’s edges, and I know if I take it any further, it will be the next and final piece to float away.

😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔

45)

“What did you do?” My head snaps toward Imogen, and a deep sense of foreboding takes root in my chest. She slowly lifts her gaze to mine.

“What you asked me to.”

How THE FUCK am I supposed to wait who-knows how long for the next damned book???

All in all, I really enjoyed this. I never got bored and I didn't mind the side missions at all.

The xaden×violet of it all shattered my heart. I definitely loved their relationship more than the previous books (It really reminded me of their dynamic from one of the best pieces of literature I've ever had the pleasure to read, a fanfiction piece called Storm in the quiet by @justallihere. She is truly the best.).

I just knew this was coming, and all of their trying would lead to this... it tore my heart apart. I love heavy angst in my books, but it hurts like a motherfucker when you have to wait for the next book in a series. I've promised myself I would never start an unfinished series ever again but oh well....

I loved the side characters so much, and I feel like I got to see them more and get to know them better in this one.

Ridoc is the best comic relief character I've read in a long, long time, and I love him so much (I almost had a heart attack when I thought the cook actually stabbed him.)

Aaric is a little shit and I'm so here for it. His exceptionally well written character was one of the highlights of the book for me.

Imogen and Garrick are my babies and I want them to end up together SO FUCKING BAD.

Also, the Drake and Mira crumbs? Chef's kiss.

I have to admit I was very fed shipping wise.

Unexpectedly, I also laughed my ass off in this book... so I'll probably make another post with all the times I died of laughter. Who would have thought?

My soul will definitely need mending and a good dose of fanfiction to get me through the long wait. To the people who are gifted enough to write these fanfcitions, you are my heroes. Cheers!

Final thought, Xaden Riorson, THE MAN that you are.

Accurate image of me after finishing Onyx Storm:

[wendichester]

Can I request this because soft Dean falling for a stripper he met on the job at a strip club after there were haunts and killings there, would actually make so much sense and be so cute idc bc he knows he’s there to protect her if the dudes get handsy and loves to watch his girl dance like TELL ME IM WRONG

⋆.˚⋆₊ ⊹ strip,

summary. you're hypnotizing and dean can't get enough

pairing. dean winchester x stripper!reader

wordcount. 470

notes. i kinda feel like we'd seen a lot of dean incarnating his demon side and beating up the creeps in the parking lot 🤭

The music thumps against the walls of the dimly lit club, vibrating through the air like a heartbeat. Dean leans back in his chair at the edge of the stage, his beer in hand untouched, his eyes locked on you. The case here—a nasty haunting—was wrapped up hours ago. Salted, burned, done and dusted. But Dean stayed behind, lingering in a way he couldn’t quite justify to himself.

You had caught his eye the second he walked in. Not just because of your figure or the way you moved, but something else—something quieter. A spark of resilience, an undeniable confidence that wrapped itself around you like armor as you commanded the stage.

And now, he’s stuck.

You step into the spotlight, the sequins on your outfit catching and reflecting every beam of light. Dean swears you glow. The way you move is deliberate and hypnotic, equal parts grace and power. His breath hitches when your hips sway, when your hands trail along your thighs. It’s not just a performance; it’s art. It’s you.

His jaw tightens, his fingers drumming against the side of his beer bottle as he fights the urge to pull his gaze away—not because he’s embarrassed but because he feels too much. Admiration, desire, and something deeper he doesn’t want to name yet.

His stomach knots when a group of men at the next table whistles loudly, their voices loud and crude. Dean’s grip on the bottle tightens, his knuckles turning white. His jaw ticks as he watches you handle it like a pro, not even flinching, your smile sharp and unyielding.

But he knows better. He knows the weight you must carry, the strength it takes to face strangers night after night and still keep that fire burning.

When your eyes sweep over the room, they land on him. Just for a second. But it’s enough. Enough to make his heart stutter, to make him feel like you can see right through him. He tips his beer slightly in your direction, a small, almost shy salute, and is rewarded with the faintest curve of your lips.

The song shifts, slower, sultrier. Dean can’t take his eyes off you as you arch your back, your movements like liquid, like poetry. And all he can think is, God, she’s incredible.

He doesn’t care about the men ogling you or the judgment he knows some would cast your way. All he sees is you—strong, confident, magnetic. And as the lights dim and the song ends, a thought slips into his mind, unbidden but undeniable:

I’m screwed.

You step off the stage and disappear into the back, leaving Dean sitting there, his beer still untouched, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

Because if this is what falling feels like, he’s not sure he ever wants to get back up.

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[natasha-romanoff-off]

Seat of desire

Rio confronts you for taking her seat, but when you refuse to move, she boldly sits on your lap. The playful banter quickly escalates into a charged interaction, revealing an unspoken tension between you both.

Rio’s glare burned from across the hall, her dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that seemed to cut through the noisy chatter around you. It wasn’t just a look—it was a challenge, plain and simple. She started walking toward you, her steps deliberate, her presence commanding attention without her having to say a word.

When she reached you, she didn’t hesitate. “You’re in my seat,” she said, her voice sharp and steady, each word edged with irritation.

You tilted your head back slightly, meeting her gaze with an equal measure of resolve. “I was here first,” you replied, your tone casual but firm. You weren’t planning on moving.

She narrowed her eyes, leaning forward slightly as if to close the gap and remind you who was in charge. “Move,” she said, her voice dropping into a warning tone, “or I’ll sit on you.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up in a playful grin. “Please,” you said, a teasing lilt in your voice, “do it.”

Rio didn’t falter. If anything, your challenge only made her more determined. With a resolute huff, she stepped even closer and, without a hint of hesitation, lowered herself directly onto your lap. She wasn’t gentle about it either, the defiance clear in her every movement.

“Get up,” she commanded, her voice firm, though her smirk betrayed a glimmer of satisfaction.

You leaned back in your seat, unfazed by her attempt to intimidate you. “I don’t think I will,” you said coolly, your eyes never leaving hers.

She scoffed, adjusting herself on your lap with a deliberate, exaggerated movement that left no doubt she was trying to make you uncomfortable. “As you wish,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she leaned back slightly, clearly not planning on budging either.

The hallway seemed to grow quieter, as though the tension between you two had silenced the world around you. You finally broke the silence with a cheeky grin. “So,” you said, tilting your head slightly, “is this a prize or a punishment?”

Rio shot you a sharp side-eye, her brows knitting together in annoyance. “Shut up, idiot,” she muttered, but there was an unmistakable flicker of amusement in her gaze. It was faint, but you caught it, and it only fueled your teasing.

“And if I don’t?” you whispered, leaning in closer, your voice barely audible but deliberately provocative. Your lips brushed against the shell of her ear just enough to make her tense up. “What are you going to do about it?”

The tension between you both was palpable, a mix of frustration, amusement, and something deeper that neither of you were ready to acknowledge yet.

You adjusted her position slightly, your hands slipping underneath her shirt, gently caressing her skin. She immediately slapped your hands away, her voice sharp but with an underlying tension. “Hands still, pretty.”

Your grin widened, catching on to her slip. “Pretty?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow as though her words had sparked an entirely new game. “You think I’m pretty?”

Rio froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard by your teasing. A faint blush crept up her neck, and she quickly averted her eyes. “I didn’t mean that,” she shot back, her voice tinged with embarrassment, though her glare quickly returned.

“You said it,” you teased, leaning back slightly but keeping your gaze locked on her. Watching her flustered reaction was far too entertaining. “It’s okay, though,” you added with mock seriousness. “You don’t have to fight it.”

She let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head as though trying to rid herself of the growing tension. “Are you always this insufferable?” she asked, her voice laced with irritation, though it lacked the bite it had moments ago.

“I’m not the one sitting on someone else’s lap,” you pointed out, your voice dropping a fraction as you leaned in again, your tone deliberate. “And do you know what I think?”

Her eyes flicked back to yours, her brow furrowing. “I don’t know, and I don’t care,” she retorted, though her voice wavered slightly. Her hands gripped the edge of the seat tightly, but she still made no effort to get up.

“I think you like me more than you’re willing to admit,” you said softly, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you watched her carefully.

Her expression faltered for just a split second, and you caught the way her lips pressed together in frustration. “You wish,” she muttered, her voice quieter now, but her body betrayed her hesitation.

“Maybe,” you conceded with a playful shrug, your hand resting lightly on her thigh. When she didn’t immediately push it away, you felt a flicker of triumph. “And if my touch really bothered you,” you continued, your voice softer now, almost a murmur, “you’d have gotten up already.”

Rio’s breath hitched ever so slightly, but she didn’t respond. Her shoulders tensed, and her gaze shifted, as though she was grappling with the truth of your words.

"That's what I thought," you said, your voice filled with quiet confidence, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. You leaned in just a little closer, your proximity both comforting and charged with something more.

[saejinniestar]

Mr. Steal your Heart

Robber!Alpha!Taehyun x Rich!Omega!Y/N.

Tags: Clueless!Y/N, corruption, they end up getting married in some part of the story, she doesn’t know what cvmming is, she gets naked outside, size k!nk, knotting, breeding, praise k!nk, ab riding, reader is lonely, great ending!

Notes: Robber Taehyun breaks into the home of the rich and lonely omega with his four friends. Says he’ll be right back as he finishes up, keeps coming back while the servants are away. I did some research and looked back on some of the fics I read so if anything is wrong tell me.

For Kang Taehyun, life was anything but easy, having to resort to a life of stealing to make ends meet. His Job? Barely paying him anything. Family? None whatsoever. All he has is his four friends, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Kai and Soobin, who help him on his stealing adventures. Is he Robin Hood? No way, he’ll steal from omegas, betas, and alphas, he’s not picky. He goes into the night and steals from people, breaking in, hearing their scared voices and frantic cries, running away and never getting caught. He’s built a life for himself and a name, now he’ll never have any problems if he keeps this up without the fuzz after him. He repeats this process of waking up, going to work, going back home, taking a nap, then robbing. Nothing changes, his next target is you. He waits until all have gone from your home to strike. All the boys break in, one by one, making sure to be as quiet as possible.

They look around, taking things that could be at the back of a person’s memory, things that could get them lots of money, things worth a whole house. He walks up the stairs but then stops, there, at the end of the hallway was a light. He walked slowly, Beomgyu and Kai checking the other rooms. He got to your door, waiting for any sounds. He then took a peek, seeing you get into bed. Suddenly, there was a thud, he saw as you jolted. He ran in, getting onto your bed and holding you down, hugging you tight. He felt you trying to calm down in his hold, moving more slowly. He let out his scent, one he never let anyone smell at all. The scent was strong, a black cherry like scent but deeper, more powerful. He watched as you stopped moving, letting him hug you more. Then, Beomgyu came in, telling Taehyun they got six things and they were ready to go. As he walked out, he turned around to look at you, “I’ll be back darling, wait for me okay?” You nodded, laying back down and watching him turn off your light and close your door. Taehyun, that was his name, Taehyun.

You were different than Taehyun, you were a rich girl who had tons of servants and everything you could ever want handed to you. People thought you were too good for them, too spoiled and probably a brat. This was far from the truth. You were too shy, didn’t go out because of it causing people to think you were a recluse, you weren’t a brat either. You also didn’t have family, they all perished in an accident caused by someone breaking and entering. The only people you had were your servants, working to take care of you and make sure you were safe. They all went back to their homes at night, and that’s how you met Taehyun. You were shocked to see him nonetheless but you made interactions with anyone else, that was your first time. When he told you to wait for him, you did. You waited till he came back again, getting into your house and straight to your room. He hugged you again, letting you breathe in his scent as he praised you for being a good girl for him. He let his friends steal from you, let them take what they wanted, after all, he was a robber, not a nice man. When Soobin went in to tell him that they were ready and that they’d decided to come back again, he joked to Taehyun, “If you date her and marry her, this whole thing would be a lot easier.” Taehyun looked at you, a smile forming on his face, “Gonna let me date you, huh darling, gonna be a good omega for me?” You nodded, feeling him press a kiss to your head. “Be a good girl and wait for me.” And with that, he left.

When you got up in the morning, you got ready and walked down the stairs, suddenly the doorbell rang. The door man answered it, and at your door was Taehyun. The door man was surprised to see someone at the door, he asked Taehyun what he needed. “Believe it or not my good sir, I’m dating the young lady who lives here!” He was even more surprised as Taehyun pulled you into his arms. Your door man then smiled, telling your butler how he was surprised to see you have a boyfriend. Taehyun followed you to your room, locking the door behind you and sitting down on your bed. He then started explaining how things were gonna go in terms of him and his friends coming in. You listened, trying not to miss anything he said. He then left but not before he told you to wait for him. At night, you saw him again, he hugged you, released his scent and pressed kisses to your face. Both you and him were different. While the others he came with were alphas, he was different, a stronger, more powerful alpha, as scientists called it a prime alpha. You on the other hand, were a prime omega, a more submissive version of an omega. According to scientists, only people that were prime alpha or omega could be together and only those types were experimented on, leaving less and less of them in society. You both were made for each other, dangerous yet perfect for each other. Once the boys finished, they left, Taehyun telling you the same thing, wait for him.

A year had passed with Taehyun and his friends coming into to your house and stealing things here and there. His friends were coming to see you, but not to steal, to see you get married to Taehyun. Now that you both were married, they could come whenever they wanted, take what they wanted, after all, you let them do it. Taehyun then came back with his friends one night, coming back to steal once again, Taehyun came up to your room, and then you came out of the bathroom, wearing a nightgown, short and nearly translucent. He pulled you in for a hug, sitting you down on his lap, he kissed you, his lips serenading yours. He felt so accomplished, like he won the lottery. He had the richest girl all to himself, a little omega all for him, and not just any omega, one that hadn’t even gotten her heat yet. His lips left yours, your little pants coming out. He whispered in your ear, “Being such a good little wifey for me, yeah? You’re such a good little omega for me.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, not stopping his words. “When your heat comes, I’m gonna breed you, give you my pups, gonna keep my cute little wife all to myself, I bet you want that, yeah?” You nodded, letting him suck your tongue as you kissed him, his pants on the floor, your panties half way down your leg and your nightgown pushed up to your chest. He was half way down your collarbone, hands on your chest when Beomgyu opened the door and told Taehyun they were leaving. Your face turned red as you said bye to him, Taehyun only shooing him off and telling him to come next week and that he’d wait for him and the others.

When you woke up the next day, Taehyun was sleeping right by you. his clothes were in your basket for unwashed clothes along with all of your other clothes you wore yesterday. You yawned and stretched, parting your legs, only for you to feel the softness of your husband’s pajama pants on your cunt. You looked down, seeing your nightgown and nothing else. You were embarassed, never realizing you fell asleep like this. You shook it off, pulling down Taehyun’s pants and rubbing yourself on him, trying to feel what you felt yesterday. When Taehyun woke up, he saw you, nightgown ridden up to your stomach, tears staining your cheeks and your cunt on top of him. He moved you off of him and sat up. “If you wanted to do what we did yesterday, you could’ve asked darling.” He pulled off your nightgown, admiring your body in his view. He took off his clothes, watching as you looked at his body. His hands pulled you close to him, sitting you on top of his semi-hard dick. He put his hands on your hips and moved you back and forth, feeling your warmth. You left him mesmerized with your body, how could someone not want a pretty omega like you. He loved the way your body clung to him, never wanting to let go, he also loved the way your cunt drooled for him, telling him just how much you wanted him. When he looked up the tears came back, your body holding onto his even tighter and your hips moving slower. You got up and ran to your bathroom, then after a few minutes, came back confused. He laughed, pulling you closer to him, “Honey, you’re not gonna pee, you’re gonna come, have you never done that before?” You shook your head, watching as his eyes widened. Well, if that was the case, he shouldn’t have expected a freaking nympho like on videos, he instead got an inexperienced, ‘never touched myself before’ omega. At breakfast, he thought and thought, what could he do to make you less afraid of letting go. Your butler then called for Taehyun. He got up and then told you to wait for him.

One day, his friends came again only this time, not to steal, to visit. They came in, saying hi and giving you a hug. They had suggested a picnic outside in the garden, hoping to get a good talk about the next time they’d come and steal. You went and got dressed then came downstairs and outside into the garden. They all gasped when they saw you, a pretty little sundress, with matching sandals and as your skirt flew up as you ran, one of Taehyun’s favorite panties hugging your hips. They all watched as you sat down, sitting close to Taehyun. You said hello and talked with them, eating the small sandwiches the chefs made for you guys. Suddenly, Beomgyu got an idea, he whispered in Soobin’s ear who then whispered it to Yeonjun who whispered it to Kai. Once Kai whispered it to Taehyun, a grin erupted on his face. “Honey, they’d like to see your pretty body, see how lucky I got, is that okay?” You smiled at them nodding, you stood up, removing your sandals first. Then, Taehyun helped you with your dress, folding it and laying it down on the picnic blanket. He removed your undergarments and then sat you down in his lap. The boys looked at you in awe, in surprise and shock. Taehyun parted your legs and spread your lips open. A flurry of compliments started coming from the boys, you smiled and giggled, happy to how pretty they thought you were. Taehyun helped you back into your clothes as the boys watched. Then, they helped pick up the picnic blanket, plates and cups and brought them inside. Then they all said goodbye and to wait for them.

After the boys came that night to steal, you wondered when they’d just come to visit, not steal. They said it would happen more often since they told you they were done stealing. They threw a small party and they laughed and talked to each other, you saw how happy Taehyun was, then he told you, they finally got the house they wanted and everything else they needed. That’s why they stole, so they could get the house they wanted. You were happy for them, dancing along with them. The next day, you and Taehyun went to the garden to have a picnic. You were enjoying your cake when your body started to feel hot. Taehyun came to your side, lifting you up. You had a fever, your body was hot. He brought you to your room and pressed a kiss to your lips as he sat you down. You went back to his lips, kissing, whimpering, pressing further down on him. He pulled you off, laying you down and telling you that you were sick and your heat was coming. But the bad news for Taehyun was that he was going to stay holed up in his room tomorrow, due to his rut. Now, he didn’t know what to do. He told you that he was getting your food, coming back with a dish full of food. He helped you eat it, putting the spoon in your mouth. He took care of you throughout the day and once it was time for you to sleep, he got you ready and laid you in bed and he got ready himself. He laid down next to you and told you to wait for him in the morning.

When he woke up in the morning, a sickly sweet scent flooded his nose. He felt hot, he felt the dizzying feel of someone on top of him. There you were, naked and rubbing yourself on Taehyun’s abs. You were riding his abs quickly and messily. Your eyes were glazed over with a dazed look, your head was very much clouded, only thinking about pleasing your alpha and getting bred. Taehyun on the other hand, only wanted to keep you bred, keep you with him always, have you stuck in that horny haze, have you stuck on his knot forever. You were perfect, kissing, moaning and whimpering, all for Taehyun’s eyes only. He got up and laid you down, trying to stop you from grinding on his dick. His fingers went in easily, the slick you were releasing made it easier for him. He opened you, his fingers spreading you for the main course. There you were, wanting him endlessly as he took out his fingers. He took off his clothes slowly, making you lose your mind as he took each piece of clothing off. There it was, very big and couldn’t possibly fit in your tiny hole. He pressed you against the pillows as he entered you, trying his hardest not to push all the way in. The way you felt wrapped around him, your walls warming him up immediately. Slowly but surely, he bottomed out, finally reaching the end. It all felt so sweet, the way the tip of his dick kissed your cervix, the way you looked so blissful underneath him. He was moving fast inside you, making sure to leave no spot untouched. “You’re being such a good omega for me, keep being good for me, keep laying there and looking pretty.” You were out of it, clinging onto Taehyun when he hit your cervix. He felt as your cunt squeezed him, came all over his dick. “Good girl, did such a good job for me, ngh, never wanna pull out.” As he felt your insides hugging him, he never wanted to pull out, he wanted to stay inside you forever. His inner alpha was yelling at him to mark you up and claim you, keep you in his arms, your scent was already enveloping him anyway. He was close, his teeth were on your neck, barely biting your scent glands. The second he released was the second he bit you, your arms tightening around him and your sounds got louder. His knot was so close to your cervix, keeping you filled with his release. "Honey, how did that feel, huh? Bet your little cunt loved it." He pressed kisses to your face as he reached over and grabbed a towel to clean you up with. He got you dressed and let you take a nap, he'd be back for more, just wait for him.

The next few days were filled with more moments like these, after all he had to help you with your heat and you had to help him with his rut. You did it each and every time, in the shower, where Taehyun could just kiss you and knot you, in the garden, where he could see your body in the sunlight, even in the library, where he'd have stuck on his knot and he'd read you a book. Soon, your heat was over and so was his rut. In the morning, you were filled with disappointment, that meant Taehyun wouldn't touch you anymore. You shook your head and grabbed Taehyun's hand, moving your nightgown and pulling off your panties, you slipped one of his fingers inside. It felt good but not good enough so you slipped two fingers then three. You looked down, his hand was getting wet with your arousal and his fingers were inside of you. You moved yourself against his hand, humping it desperately. You looked at Taehyun then pressed your lips against his, moving lower and lower to his neck. When Taehyun woke up, you were there naked, teary eyed and his hand was dripping with your releases. He wondered just how you got this way and how you managed to not wake him up. He then felt his neck and lips were wet, your lips were wet too. He called out to you, and scared you, you didn't expect to see him wake up. You pulled out his hand from inside you, shame painting your face. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked them, your sweet taste on his tongue. He then got up and got dressed, he went into the bathroom to get ready. He then got out, "Why aren't you getting ready? We promised the boys we'd see their new house remember?" You jumped and got up, nearly tripping over your clothes on the floor. Once you both were ready, you got into the car and your driver drove you to their house. It was big but not as big as yours. Once you knocked on the door, Beomgyu opened it. The boys were excited to have you both over. You guys started off with talking, eating and then dancing. You all had fun at their new house and stayed till night. You both got out the door to head to your car when Taehyun told them to wait till you guys came back.

Taehyun was happy but even happier today when he got you four boxes and put them on your bed. You liked getting presents and seeing that he got you them made you happy. You opened the first one, a pink diamond collar with his name on the diamond tag. The next one had a small, pink and white, silk nightgown, the third one had a rose quartz tiara and a scepter with the same crystals, the fourth gift had white gloves in it. He helped you put the outfit on and then laid back and looked at you. You held your scepter in your hand, a shy look on your face. "You look so pretty, darling. My pretty princess." He pulled you close to him and sat you down in his lap. You whimpered as he sat you down, he lifted your nightgown and saw you wearing nothing underneath. "Pretty princess wanted me to see her princess parts too, huh?" You nodded, holding onto him as his fingers entered you. You looked down at his lap, his dick getting harder by the second. You thought for a minute, how could someone like you get a man like him when no one liked you. Tears started flowing down your cheeks as Taehyun stopped and looked up at you, "Hey, what's wrong, darling? What's got you all teary eyed?" He held you close as you cried on his shoulder. Then Taehyun heard kids from outside your window talking and calling you a recluse and made fun of you for being a brat who was too good for the world. That made you cry even harder and Taehyun got up and got to the window, he opened it pointed his finger at the kids, then held up his old water gun. The kids ran away, screaming bloody murder. He walked back to you, "That ought to teach those kids to mind their own business and not make fun of you." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. He helped you get your clothes back on as he told you he'd get you lunch and to wait for him.

It had been years since Taehyun first met you. Shy, submissive, you. It was then that he realized, you were the one. He never once looked back, he knew that stealing from you was a good idea or else he would've never met you. You were his precious omega and he was your handsome alpha and your lives were perfect. Today, he was with you, holding your hand as you both walked through the garden, smiling and happy. He let go and ran to get a flower he grew for you. Once again, you waited for him because you knew what he'd say, to wait for him.

Taglist: @filmnings, @yeoningz, @beomiracles, @dawngyu, @yunverie, @liverspaghett

[trippinsorrows]

Please insert the masterpiece here 👇🏽

Please and thank you 💜

masterpiece way too much, friend, but here you go! 🥺❤️

Roman’s entrance into the school is both silent and powerful. His determination and focus are undeniable. Not a glance is spared or directed toward a single soul outside of the secretary that sits at the front desk as he swings the doors open to the front office.

“Where is she?” Is the first and only thing to come out his mouth. He’s not repeating himself, either.

Thankfully, for the staff that is, he doesn’t have to.

Roman turns to the left when he hears rushed footsteps and is instantly met with Leya’s small form rushing toward him.

Naturally, he moves to one knee to catch her in his waiting arms as she throws her tiny body into his much larger one. He holds her. Close.

“Daddy….”

His eyes shut at hearing her voice. So soft, innocent, grateful. Relieved. It’s as if he can feel the tension and distress melting off her, replaced with the comfort and warmth of his embrace.

“I’m here,” he reassures her. Roman kisses her temple. “It’s okay.”

He moves his hand up and down the small of her back, uncaring and not bothering to ask the specifics of what happened. She was upset, obviously had an episode, and asked for him and Solana to be called, his wife unable to leave the doctor’s appointment she’s currently at with their son, leaving Roman tasked with retrieving their daughter.

And, he’s got her now, so that’s all that matters.

Roman stands up, still holding her, aware of how she keeps her arms wrapped around him. He glances at the clock on the wall. It should be around her lunch time. “Do you want me to take you to get something to eat?” She shakes her head against him. No. He sighs, already knowing her answer to his next question. “You want to go home?” Another head shake. A different kind. Yes.

He figured as such and prepares to order the secretary to have someone retrieve Leya’s backpack and lunchbox when she tugs on his shirt.

He looks down, eyebrow lifted, expression quizzical. Leya lifts her hand, shaking her wrist causing the friendship bracelet she made with Solana and her sister a couple months ago to jiggle.

And, right away, he just knows.

“You want Lina?”

Leya nods.

And without question or hesitation, Roman moves over to the desk. “Get her stuff. Pull Lina, too.”

A flustered expression from the pudgy woman. “Sir—“

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” Though his tone is even and calm, his expression is anything but. The woman gulps and picks up the phone, clearly alerting the appropriate parties.

Roman moves away, continuing to hold Leya, walking her around, comforting her when he hears it.

“Daddy!”

Lina rushes over to him, hugging his leg with expected excitement. However, it’s a bit short-lived as her eyes shift to something more concerned. “It’s okay, sissy.” Leya moves around just enough for Roman to understand she wants to be let down. And as soon as her feet hit the ground, Lina has her arms around her sister. “Daddy’s here now and me too.”

Hearing and seeing it briefly does something to him. They’re sisters and best friends but also something so much deeper. Lina’s protectiveness and dedication to looking out for her sister is so much deeper. And whatever it is, he couldn’t be more grateful.

As Lina holds Leya’s hand, Roman moves over to the desk and signs them both out. He also takes a quick second to text Solana and let her know the plan.

Snatching the girls bags from the annoying ass teacher or staff person i.e. whoever he’s gonna have fired by the end of the week for hovering too long, Roman moves back to one knee to propose another question. The same, but one he thinks might evoke a different answer now that Lina is here.

“How about I take you both to get something to eat before we head home?” Lina’s smile is bright, and he can see the interest gleam across Leya’s face. “Whatever you want.”

Lina looks over at Leya, the two sharing an unspoken exchange before big sister answers for the both of them. “Popeyes!”

Roman both wants to groan and laugh at the same time. One time. Only once did Jimmy take the kids out to Popeyes one night while babysitting, and ever since then, it’s become their latest fast food obsession.

He chuckles, kissing both of their foreheads. “Popeyes, it is.”

[honeyryewhiskey]

She moves through the shadows in a triplicate form, reigning over sorcery, crossroads, and necromancy. An enigmatic force, she is the pulsing heart of the dark, perched perfectly in the balance of good and evil.

As the Winchesters scour myths and lore for answers, they find themselves delving deeper into the labyrinth of her power—a maze that shifts with every step.

Now, with her aloof little familiar bound to Dean’s soul, the brothers are trapped in a game of Hecate's making. Breaking the bond demands a sacrifice neither of them is willing to give—but the bigger challenge might just be surviving the sharp-tongued, frustratingly useful familiar who seems determined to push Dean’s every button.

FALL INTO THE CHAOS

PROLOGUE i. THE THREE HEADED BEAST

Long, long ago—centuries before the Winchesters ever walked the earth—your world was steeped in herbs, potions, and spells. You and your sisters were the village’s love witches, shadowy figures whispered about in the darkest corners of taverns and prayer circles. The desperate and forlorn came to your family’s door—unhappy wives, weeping girls, and lovesick souls—placing their fragile hopes in your hands and trusting you to grant their desires.

Together, you and your sisters became the answer to countless prayers, weaving love and longing into potions that could soothe the ache of lonely hearts. But it was the work done in shadow—the forbidden craft, the manipulation of desires too dark to confess—that stirred ripples in the fabric of your magic and drew the attention of Hecate herself.

The goddess, rarely concerned with the trifles of her mortal followers, took notice of your bloodline. In you, she saw power unbridled and potential unchecked, a spark capable of burning brighter than any mortal flame. But such power demands a price. And when the time came to pay, a sacrifice was made—a choice you never spoke of again.

Condemned to an eternal servitude, you surrendered everything to become what you are now: a shapeshifting spirit, bound to Hecate’s will. For centuries, you have been her tool and her weapon, drawn from the dark recesses of your tomb whenever you proved useful. She wielded you in secret wars, relied on you for whispered truths, and cast you aside when the work was done.

Time has become a blur of fire and shadow, of fleeting moments stolen before being returned to the cold embrace of eternal sleep. You have watched empires rise and crumble, seen humanity claw its way to triumph only to destroy itself again. The horrors of war, the fragile joys of peace, the endless hunger for power—all have left their marks on you.

But through it all, the ache of what was lost remains, an ember that refuses to fade. Bound by a leash you cannot sever, you have lived through centuries without ever truly shaping them.

And now, after untold years of servitude and silence, you awaken again. But this time, it is not Hecate’s call that stirs you—it is the binding of a mortal soul, tethered to yours in ways you cannot yet fathom. Dean Winchester is no king, no god, but his defiance burns brighter than any ruler’s crown. As frustrating as he is, he offers something you’ve long forgotten how to hope for: the chance to carve your own destiny.

j's note 𖤐 no use of y/n, will be using nicknames but keeping physical descriptions to an absolute minimum, aside from what could be applied to a fem!reader.

series warnings!! hunting-esque violence, strong language, canon divergent?, adult themes — 18+, nothing non-consensual will happen, just not my cup of tea. but. reader is bound to dean, souls intertwining and whatnot. makes that relationship a bit taboo in nature. still learning tags, bare with me ppl

[ disclaimer ! this is based on different Hecate myths, but i took a hop, skip and a jump of creative liberty to make it fit into the spn universe and this fic. so. this is not entirely accurate to greek mythology ] 

[jaijeijayjei]

What's in a Name? - Fic

Viktor meets Mel and Jayce's daughter for the first time, and is pleasantly surprised upon learning her name. Pure fluff, AU where Viktor has recovered from his illness. Inspired by @cluelessrockcollector 's art!

Relationships: Mel/Jayce, Jayce & Viktor, Mel & Viktor.

Word count: 971

Rating: General Audiences, no warnings.

For once it was nice visiting Piltover’s General Hospital as a guest, and not a patient. Upon learning Mel gave birth overnight, Viktor immediately left to visit her.

“Viktor! Thanks for coming,” Jayce said happily, embracing Viktor before leading him to Mel’s hospital room. 

While there was always respect between Viktor and Mel, it was only recently that their relationship developed beyond mere acquaintances. 

Viktor was curious about the woman who had captured his closest friend’s heart and so an unexpected friendship blossomed. Councilor Medarda was a brilliant woman and one of the few able to match his quick wit. Unlike most of Piltover’s elite, Mel neither pitied nor derided him. Likewise, Viktor was neither sycophantic or intimidated by Mel, a refreshing difference. Although he once claimed this interest was purely for Jayce’s sake, he had developed a genuine fondness for the beguiling woman.

Perhaps he didn’t show his affection in the sweeping, sentimental ways Jayce preferred, but it was present nonetheless. Among other acts, Viktor took it upon himself to thoroughly investigate Mel’s healthcare providers (and made sure they rejected the ones who didn’t pass his standards). He also sought out Sky’s assistance in gathering herbal remedies for expectant mothers and subtly rearranged their project schedules to allow Jayce more time with his growing family. 

While walking down the hallway, Jayce enthusiastically updated him on the sudden events of the previous day and reassured him both mother and child were well. While he insisted on protecting his wife’s privacy during her pregnancy and birth, both him and Mel agreed Viktor, Caitlyn, and Ximena are always welcome. 

“Fatherhood suits you Jayce,” Viktor remarked fondly as they entered the private room.  

“Viktor! Welcome” Caitlyn exclaimed, a cup of tea in hand. Ximena gave a warm smile and gestured for him to take a seat.

Mel was seated upright in her bed, cradling her daughter. Viktor was extraordinarily curious to meet her, yet turned his attention first to his dear friend. 

“Thank you for welcoming my presence, Mel. Jayce tells me you are recovering well.”

“The pleasure is mine, Viktor. I am thankful to have such good company,” she said fondly while stroking her daughter's cheek.  

Viktor caught sight of the sleeping baby nestled against Mel’s chest. Her delicate skin was a few shades deeper than Jayce’s and she had a soft halo of dark curly hair just like her mother. He wondered what color her eyes would be.

“Would you like to hold her, Viktor?” Mel offered.

“I would be honored,” he replied softly.

Jayce walked over to carefully place the child into his nervous, yet steady arms. 

Such a delicate creature- her fragile breaths a mere whisper against his face. And yet each breath promised a lifetime of endless possibilities. Her eyes fluttered open. Amber, just like Jayce’s.

Viktor’s breath caught in his throat as her hand reached out to him, grasping his index finger. 

“And does the little one have a name?” he questioned, careful to keep his voice low. 

===============

Some months ago

Mel sat on the floor of her daughter’s nursery adding the finishing details to the mural. She was inspired by Ximena’s wistful memories of her homeland’s mountain ranges and created a beautiful landscape. 

Jayce had insisted on building most of the furniture himself. A dresser housing baby clothes gifted by Caitlyn, a crib painted blue, and a practical changing table were neatly arranged against the far wall. 

Her husband was across the room, carefully carving out little birds for his daughter’s wooden mobile. 

“How about Vivienne?” Mel called out

“Eh, too prissy for me. Clara?”

“Hm, I know too many Claras. Estella?”

Jayce gave a noncommittal hum. “Evelynn?” he suggested with a hopeful lilt to his voice. 

“Jayce, we are not naming our daughter after a pop star,” Mel sighed. 

“Worth a shot,” he shrugged. 

Although the baby would be their beloved daughter first and foremost, she would also be a scion of both House Medarda and House Talis. They knew their daughter will have the world’s eyes on her the moment she is born. Thus, she should have a strong, respectable, yet meaningful name, Mel believed. 

Mel traced her fingers over the dried portion of the painted background- a cheerful yellow that would reflect the sunshine streaming in from the skylights. The mural was full of soft, gentle colors, yet in the shadows of the trees and glints in the streaming rivers, she included accents of Medarda red. A silent acknowledgement to her daughter’s roots. 

Still, she and Jayce agreed to hold off conversations about Mel’s heritage until their daughter was older. Until she could better understand the complex feelings of respect and rejection, of love and regret. Mel wished to give her daughter a clean slate, free from the weight associated with the Medarda name. And for that reason she chose to break from tradition- her firstborn would not be named after a family member.

But there was one person she considered worthy of such recognition…

==========

“Her name is Viktoria,” Jayce murmured softly. 

His gaze snapped up at Jayce, who eagerly awaited his reaction. 

A flood of emotions rushed through Viktor, surprise, joy, and gratitude at the forefront. He thought back to his fears of being forgotten, of becoming nothing more than a footnote in history.

As soon as Jayce realized his partner’s name was missing from the Hexgate plans, he went on a tirade combing through all the documentation he could find, ensuring Viktor’s name had its rightful place. Yet now, every accolade and attribution paled next to this honor. A testament to the unbreakable bonds he has made. His legacy would be preserved, not just as a scientist, but as a beloved friend and partner.

“How… sentimental,” he muttered, unable to hide the joyful smile creeping up his face. The others laughed.

[redtsundere-writes]

john price x waitress!reader | mdni +18

Is there anything worse than working at 3am? You were already on your third cup of coffee of the night, it didn’t wake you up anymore, it just gave you heartburn. Being a waitress at a 24/7 diner is not for the weak. Putting up with long hours at the counter, cleaning toilets after the partygoers puked all over them, and serving truck drivers with a smile even though they catcalled your ass every time you walk by. This was supposed to be a temporary job to save up for college, but you’ve been here for 5 years now.

Tonight didn’t seem any different from the rest until you saw him arrive. Full beard, confident walk, know-it-all eyes, lumberjack shirt. “A damn soldier,” you thought annoyed. You already knew how to identify them since they were the worst type of customer. Besides the catcalling, they’re the ones who try to sleep with the waitresses on their nights off before returning to base. Luckily, he arrived alone so he wouldn't be much a problem.

You offered him the menu and coffee from the pot with a well-trained smile. He told you he just wanted a coffee. Strange that someone would leave their house at three in the morning for a $3 cup of coffee. Even stranger that he would add whiskey from a canteen to it. He seemed to notice your confused look.

"It's for texture." He said, mixing the coffee with his spoon.

"A bad night?" You asked.

"That's putting it mildly." He scoffed.

"There's nothing a cinnamon roll can't fix." You offered in your best saleswoman voice, looking to earn your tip.

He had a rich laugh, maybe it was the British accent, or maybe it was that he was a gentleman who invited you to chat while he drank his coffee with the cinnamon roll. You learned that his name was John, but everyone calls him Price. He was a soldier (you already knew that), but one of those soldiers who were excellent at their job. He was forty years old, he liked to gamble at the racetrack, and he was divorcing his wife.

You felt bad for him, really. Ending a marriage after 15 years had to be complicated. Especially if that marriage was filled with fights, conception issues, and long months of not seeing each other. Price told you that his wife had kicked him out of their house after another huge fight and drove aimlessly until she found the only restaurant open in the wee hours of the morning. Poor thing. You just wanted to make him feel better.

Fucking him in his car wasn't the way you were going to help him, but you weren't complaining. His hands, calloused from experience, held your waist tightly to keep you in place as he slammed his cock into your wet pussy. Your face was hidden in his neck, his beard tickling your cheeks. You moaned his name as he spread your ass to slam his dick deeper.

Price grunted incoherently at how good you felt. He hadn't had satisfying sex since his poor wife had her second miscarriage. He shouldn't be doing this, you were too young for him. But all morals escaped his reach as he felt your wet pussy, hugging his cock so warmly.

Before he could stop himself, he came inside you. It felt so good that you couldn't even get mad at the moment. You hugged him around the neck, sitting on his throbbing cock as the gentleman caught his breath. Price adjusted the skirt of your pink uniform. He gave you a couple of pats and a tickling kiss on the cheek before he got you off his lap.

The last you heard from him was that he left you a nice tip the next day to buy a morning after pill like a gentleman. To your terrible luck, it didn't seem to work out. Looks like the Shark Week premiere got postponed.

Masterlist.

[ftmpuppyboy11037]

god im such a fucked up slut into too much shit im scared to tell my girlfriend cause i dont want her think im gross or too needy

i want her to tie me up and blindfold me while she trails her knife down my body. i want her to hurt me. i want my skin to be red from her hitting me. i want marks and bruises. i want hickeys. i want the imprint of her teeth on me. i want her to put a shock collar on me. i want her to take me out in public with a remote control vibrator stuffed in me. god last time we fucked she said couldnt fit herself all the way in my cunt and i asked her to stop cause it was too much and she did and thats good but now i want her to try to push even deeper. god id lose my fucking mind if she did. i cant even think straight its not fair. its so not fair and im not allowed to get myself off.

i wanna live together and i just be walking around in nothing but one of her shirts so she can use me whenever she needs. id let her. id let her do so many things. ive never really smoke or drank before but id let her get me high or drunk or crossfaded just to fuck me while im all hazy. id let her use my while i was asleep. waking up to her fucking me or waking up in the morning with her gone and cum dripping out of me and marks left on me and a soreness between my legs telling me id been used. id let her do all that cnc shit to me (heavy focus on that first "c" tho)

id let her take videos and pictures of me to sell them or to show me off or even just to keep for ourselves. id let her bring her friends over to watch me get fucked. hell id even let them fuck me too if thats what she wants. i think shes too possessive for that though ehe.

id let her leave me tied up with a vibrator pressed against me or shoved inside me so she can see how long ill last until i cant take cumming anymore. id let her try out different toys on me just to see which ones i react to the most. even painful ones or ones that would be too much for my stupid little cunt. god i want her to degrade me. i need her to tell me just how useless and depraved i am. how the only thing im good for is getting filled and toyed with and how even then im not very good at that.

so here we are. anonymous tumblr posting

but fuck im too scared to tell her. i already feel annoying and needy anytime i tell her about milder stuff and it makes me nervous

not because of anything shes done i just have mental issues 😣

[echo-riot]

✞⛧Sevika/Abby/Ellie if you cheated on them ✞⛧

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, angst m?

✞⛧ Sevika ✞⛧

✞⛧ Sevika doesn’t react right away. She’s too angry, too betrayed to speak. The silence between you two feels suffocating. She just stares at you, her grey eyes turning cold like metal, her jaw clenched so tight you can almost hear her teeth grind.

✞⛧ She’ll act like it doesn’t bother her at first. She’s tough. She’s not the kind of person who lets things like this get to her. But the truth is, it cuts deeper than any blade. The realization that you—her person, her ally, the one person she’d let in—would do this to her? It’s too much. It’s a betrayal she can’t shake off.

✞⛧ Don’t expect her to shout, to throw things, to cry. Sevika doesn’t cry. She’ll leave instead, disappearing for a few hours, but when she comes back, she’s colder than before. Her metal arm will be clenched tight, and her voice will be low, almost a growl, when she speaks.

✞⛧ She’ll corner you in a room and ask in the most dangerous tone possible, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think I’m that stupid?” But there’s no yelling. It’s all calm, controlled rage.

✞⛧ Sevika will demand answers, but she won’t beg. She’ll force you to say the truth, to admit it, and when you do, her gaze will be so intense, so full of pain, that it’ll break your heart to see it. But she won’t show the hurt on her face. No, she’ll mask it with anger, with disgust.

✞⛧ She’ll remind you of everything she’s done for you. All the times she protected you, fought for you, killed for you. How she made you hers in every sense of the word. But now? Now you’ve thrown it all away for someone else. For what? A stupid mistake?

✞⛧ Sevika won’t scream. She won’t make a scene. But her body will shake with fury, her fists clenching at her sides. If you don’t beg her to stay, if you don’t apologize properly, she will walk away. Not even a backward glance.

✞⛧ You’ll feel the weight of her absence for days, weeks, months. When you come across her in public, you’ll see the way others look at you with pity, knowing what you did. But Sevika? She’ll act like you never existed. She’ll keep her distance, refusing to give you the satisfaction of seeing her hurt.

✞⛧ She won’t immediately forgive you. It’ll take time. If she does forgive you, it’s not going to be easy. She’ll keep you at arm’s length, never fully trusting you again. And when she does decide to let you back in, there’s no guarantee you’ll be the same person you were before. You’ll have to prove you’re worthy of her trust again, and that won’t happen overnight.

✞⛧ If you beg for her forgiveness, don’t expect it to be given easily. Sevika’s pride won’t let her give in that quickly. She’ll make you work for it—show her you’re sorry, prove that you won’t do it again.

✞⛧ She’ll probably stop calling you “hers” for a while, at least until she knows she can trust you again. You’ll feel the sting of her indifference every time you see her with someone else, every time you hear her laugh with someone else.

✞⛧ But you know what’s worse than her coldness? The rare moments when she lets her guard down. When she finally speaks to you, when her voice cracks with the emotion she’s been holding back. That’s when you realize just how deeply she was hurt. That’s when the guilt eats you alive.

✞⛧ If you think Sevika won’t find a way to punish you, you’re dead wrong. She might not do anything overt, but she’ll make sure you feel the consequences. A cold shoulder. A brush off. A reminder that she’s a force to be reckoned with—and you’re not the only one who can be ruthless.

✞⛧ Sevika won’t apologize for anything, but her actions will eventually speak louder than words. If she’s willing to take you back, she’ll show you in the way she holds you when she thinks you’re asleep, in the way she keeps her arm around you when no one else is around. But even then, there’ll always be a part of her that’s guarded, that’s holding back. Because you’ve proven that even the strongest walls can come down. And she can never forget that.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

✞⛧Abby ✞⛧

✞⛧ Abby finds out in the worst way possible. You think you’ve been subtle, but she’s been watching, quietly observing every small change in your behavior. She notices the way your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes anymore, the way you avoid her touch, the way you get quiet after your phone buzzes. She knows. She always knows.

✞⛧ When she confronts you, she’s calm. Too calm. It makes your stomach drop because you know that when Abby is this still, this composed, it means she’s broken. Her voice doesn’t shake, but you can see the hurt in her eyes, even if she tries to hide it behind that stoic, cold façade.

✞⛧ Abby won’t scream. She won’t yell. She just… stops. She’s quiet for a long time, and that silence feels like it stretches on forever. It eats away at you, because the worst part is that she’s not angry—she’s disappointed. She’ll never yell. She won’t even beg you to explain. She’ll just leave. And that will hurt more than anything.

✞⛧ When she walks away, it feels like everything in her life just crumbled. All the walls she built to protect herself, everything she sacrificed, was because she trusted you. And now it feels like all of it is gone.

✞⛧ You’ll try to apologize, to explain that it was a mistake, but Abby’s not stupid. She’ll cut you off before you can even finish, her eyes sharp like knives, “Don’t you dare. I’m not stupid. Don’t make me regret ever giving you that trust.”

✞⛧ She won’t leave immediately, but she’ll pull away, emotionally, physically. Her touch? Gone. Her warmth? Gone. You’ll feel cold, like you’re just a ghost in her life now.

✞⛧ Every attempt to make things right will feel like it’s hitting a brick wall. You’ll buy her gifts, write her notes, try to touch her hand… but nothing works. She doesn’t want your apologies, she doesn’t want your gifts. She wants the trust that you broke—and now it’s gone forever.

✞⛧ You’ll regret it. Oh, you’ll regret it so hard. Because Abby Anderson isn’t the type to let go of people easily. When she loves, she loves deeply. And when she cuts someone out of her life, it’s like she never even knew them.

✞⛧ You’ll sit there, remembering the way her fingers would curl around yours, how she’d soften when she kissed you, the warmth of her body wrapped around yours at night. And then it hits you: I fucked up. You threw that all away.

✞⛧ And the worst part? When she’s gone, Abby won’t look back. She’ll keep moving forward. She’ll survive, like she always does, but it will kill her inside. Because she thought you were worth fighting for. And now, she’s fighting against herself. She’s fighting to forget you.

✞⛧ Maybe you’ll see her again, maybe you won’t. But every time you do, you’ll see the coldness in her eyes that wasn’t there before. You’ll see the wall between you, a divide she built to protect herself. She’ll never forgive you, not fully, and the pain of that will linger with you for as long as you live.

✞⛧ Abby doesn’t forgive easily, especially when it comes to betrayal. And now you’ll never be able to take back the damage you caused.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

✞⛧ Ellie ✞⛧

✞⛧ Ellie would feel a pit in her stomach, like someone just ripped her heart out and stomped on it. She doesn’t know if she wants to scream or cry, so she does both in her head while trying to stay calm on the outside.

✞⛧ She wouldn’t confront you right away. No, she’d need time to process. Maybe a couple days of silence where she avoids your gaze, her mind racing, but too hurt to speak up.

✞⛧ When she finally confronts you, it’s not with anger. It’s with quiet, devastated hurt. Her voice shakes, her hands trembling, and she’s trying to hold back tears. “Why? Was I not enough for you? What did I do wrong?”

✞⛧ She’s the type to think she’s messed up somehow. That she’s broken. Maybe you left because of something she couldn’t give you, maybe it’s her past catching up to her—her survivor’s guilt, her trauma.

✞⛧ The guilt would consume her. Even if you were the one in the wrong, Ellie would still find a way to blame herself. She’d second-guess everything she did for you. “Did I push you away? Was I too much?”

✞⛧ Her jealousy would become unbearable. Every time you talked to someone else, a dull ache would sting in her chest, knowing what happened. She’d try to act like she’s fine, but the weight of the betrayal would linger in her eyes.

✞⛧ If you tried to explain yourself, Ellie would shut down. She doesn’t want excuses. It’s too late for words now. She wants to forget everything and pretend like it never happened.

✞⛧ She’d probably push you away at first. Not because she doesn’t care, but because it hurts too much to love you knowing what you’ve done. She’d rather you hate her than face the possibility of being with you and feeling that same sting every time you touch her.

✞⛧ But deep down, she’d want you to fight for her. Not with words, but with actions. Show her that you’re sorry. Show her that you really want her. But she won’t admit it. Instead, she’ll act cold, distant, and self-destructive.

✞⛧ Ellie would start locking herself away even more. Her guitar would be the only thing that comforts her, strumming out painful, broken chords, her soul pouring into each note.

✞⛧ Every time she sees you, there’s this flicker of hope in her that maybe, just maybe, you’ll regret it, but it fades every time you look at her like she’s just a thing to you.

✞⛧ If you genuinely want to make amends, it would take a long time. Ellie’s not one to easily forgive, not when the wound is this deep. She’d need space to heal, but even then, she’d always wonder if you’d hurt her again.

✞⛧ She’d become distant, but in her quiet, fragile way, she’d want to be loved again—just not in the same way, because she can never go back to the naive hopefulness she had before. That part of her is gone.

✞⛧ The scars would remain. She could never forget, not fully. But she might forgive, in time—if only because, deep down, she still loves you. Even if it scares her. Even if it hurts too much.

✞⛧ But don’t be mistaken. She’s no fool. If you do it again, she’ll walk away. And she won’t look back.

[explorerspack]

hi everyone it's me again. i just think it's sooooooooo cool how zahra ran away to a wholeass different country to avoid her predestined fate of being a religious figure/political tool in a rising empire only to find herself a tool for like three different factions, allied with a radical religious government, and rapidly amassing power. me when i can't escape the fucking stars.