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entitled-fangirl · 2 months ago

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A King in the North.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: A misunderstanding occurs between the two, resulting in Cregan doubting his ability to keep his wife happy.

Warnings: LIGHT SMUT. Fingering, anger, yelling, talks of sex, talks of cheating, making out, talks of cockwarming, ya know- the works.

A/n: this gif is so beautiful holy shit. Also- based on an ask!!

Part 2

Masterlist

......................................

"No, but in another life, I mean," She explains as she nuzzles further into his chest.

The two sat in the Godswood and rested against the heavy bark of a tree. Cregan's cloak was wrapped around her as he tried to ignore the light scratching of the wood on his back.

"Another life? There's no point in dreaming of one, is there? I have this life, and I am eternally grateful for it," He quietly quips, as if not to disturb the nature around them. "I'm grateful for you. I don't wish for any other life than this."

She shifts in his hold to look up at him. "But that would be spoiling the fun. I know you love me and I know you love your life. But imagine that you lived a different one- what name would you want?"

Cregan gives her a look before sighing and giving in to her whims. He drew her to him as he stared up at the sky through the canopy of branches and the occasional leaves that still remained. "I'm not sure."

"Cregan-"

"-I'm considering your question. Just let me think."

It wasn't a rude scold, more of a soft chide, an assurance that he was going through with the question. She could hear the sound of him rubbing a hand over the scruff on his face.

"I used to be angry at my father for not naming me after his father."

It was a whispered declaration. Knowing Cregan as she did, odds are, no one else knew that about him. He never willingly threw out personal information like this, especially about his father who had died too early and left Cregan with a hole in his heart and all of the North to lead.

She reached up to lightly brush at his cheek. "Remind me his name."

Cregan hummed. "My grandfather? Benjen."

She admired Cregan from her place against his chest.

And Cregan knew that well. He could tell from his peripheral vision that she was doing so, but he made no motion to acknowledge it. He only stared ahead at the trees and dead grass that spanned as far as the tree line would let him.

But the feeling of her light breaths against his jaw and her fingers across his cheek were almost too much to ignore.

They had been married for a few moons now, and in that time, they had indulged themselves in the other quite well and quite often, but he still found that he could never have enough of her.

So he dared to meet her eye.

She had a look in her eyes that he couldn't quite place. A kind that was not lustful per se, but still made his cheeks a bright red every time he saw it.

Admiration, maybe?

Her fingers still danced across his cheek as her eyes slowly took in his face, starting with eyes and wandering down, taking extra time at his lips. "I would consider you more of a Torrhen," she admittedly so softly, he barely registered it.

A breath escaped him and his a small spark lit in his eyes. "Torrhen, you say?"

She nods, her eyes now shamelessly admiring his lips. "Yes. You could be a king, couldn't you?"

"Fu…" he trails off in a breath. His large hand grabs hers, pulling her hand down to his lips. He kisses her palm, trying not to get too caught up in the sight of her watching him do so.

He then pulls her hand down to his chest as a way to ground the two. "Careful, sweet girl. You speak of treason so openly."

She doesn't let this go. "Few know the implications of calling you such a name."

He considers her words. "I suppose. But still." He tilts her head up to look at him. "No more talks of rulers besides our Queen. Understand me?"

"You know I only jest."

"I do. But I'd hate for such words to get to someone without understanding of your wit."

"Of course. I understand." She pushed herself up, brushing her lips against his. "Torrhen Stark."

He let out a low groan, trying to control the way his body reacted to her words. He couldn't help leaning in just enough to try to connect their lips.

She got up quickly, managing to get out of his arms due to his guard being down.

He reached out to try to grab her at the last second, but she was too quick. "Little minx."

She grinned widely, pulling the cloak around herself. "I'll see you at Winterfell."

He told himself he just didn't wish to scold her, but in all honesty, he adored the nickname. It stirred something in him.

…

A few weeks had passed since then, and winter was approaching closer by the day.

That meant Cregan had less and less time with his wife.

It had began to wear on the poor man, the stress getting the best of him. Dark circles were always under his eyes during this time of year.

The time away from Cregan had hurt her as well, but it showed in different ways.

The time spent together every night was now spent apart.

He spent every night stuck at a desk with various letters and scribes around him as he began to prepare for his trek to the Wall.

She spent every night in a very different manner.

…

"My lord," A hushed voice came through the door. "My lord!"

He would usually send away whoever it was, but he hesitated this time. "Enter."

The door opened and his wife's handmaiden walked in. His full attention moved to her as he stood. She would only be here if it was something involving his wife.

"I… Forgive me, my lord. I've not entered on hopeful circumstance."

His blood ran cold. "What do you mean?"

"It's… a personal matter of my lady. She has no knowledge of my being here."

Cregan's weight shifted from foot to foot. "Speak."

"It's the fourth night now. I thought of it as nothing at first, but the fourth night now means I owe it to you to tell you."

He was growing frustrated. "Speak," he growled.

"I believe she is bringing another man into her bed, my lord."

Cregan said nothing. He was frozen, as if the northern air had finally gotten to the burly man. "W… What?"

The handmaiden had never heard the Warden of the North sound unsure of himself. It made her feel guilty for having to be the one to tell him.

"How do you know?" His broken voice asked.

"I've heard… noises from the chambers. If it is true, my lord, the man would have to come from the balcony, for when I am not present, a guard is at least there at the door. And I've spoken to him. He says he'd never let a soul by without telling you."

He wrung his hands nervously, a trait that was foreign to him. "Leave me with my thoughts."

She lowered her head. "I am truly sorry, my lord."

"If it happens again, you are ordered to tell me."

"Of course. G'night, Lord Stark."

The door shut and Cregan slumped in his chair, an exhaustion overtaking him like never before.

…

A few more hours passed before he couldn't find himself able to focus on the papers anymore.

He dropped his quill down with a huff and abandoned the table completely, moving to his shared chambers.

His hand paused on the handle of the door as he felt the pitiful look from the guard.

He didn't want pity.

Cregan Stark fucking hated pity.

He threw the door open, partly hoping to see the man who was killing him from the inside out, but he was met with his side of the bed empty and a slumbering wife on her own.

He stepped to her side of the bed, running a hand over her hair, jealous of the warmth that radiated off of her in waves.

He shook his head and dressed for the night, fighting with himself whether to hold her closer or keep her further away.

…

The next morning, she woke up to a loud noise, prompting her to sit up in alarm.

"Cregan?"

The man mentioned looked up from his work. "Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

Thick boards were now being nailed into the walls of the balcony doorway, the sun barely visible through the ones already done.

He shrugged. "Fixing something." He looked between the boards and her eyes, trying to catch something. A slip of any kind. "Is this a bother to you?"

"Well, only to my sleep." She wanted to complain and ask him to do it later in the day, but he valued what time he did have to be in the room, and she'd never ask him to change it.

"Oh, I imagine it will be," he muttered softly and began to loudly pound another nail in.

She didn't care enough to question more of his antics, getting up and throwing a decent enough cloak over herself and leaving the room to start her day.

Cregan's eyes followed her, and a guilt only then began to gnaw at him.

She gave him no reaction. Nothing. She had nothing to hide, it would seem. Still, he wouldn't take the chance.

He wouldn't let another man come in and do the one thing meant for him. Just his.

Wardens for the North will come and go, but no one would touch her if he had any say.

Insecurity was something the Stark had never encountered before, and it terrified him.

But before he could dwell on it for too long, he forced another nail into the board.

…

Because of his earlier shenanigan, Cregan had neglected the work he needed to truly be doing, making his night even longer than it already was.

Every second filled him with more and more dread as he waited to see if her handmaiden would appear.

And surely enough, she did.

"My lo-"

The words couldn't be uttered, the door not fully opened before Cregan threw his chalice against the wall and stormed passed the spooked woman.

He'd kill the very man who dared to look at his wife.

He'd kill whoever let him pass.

He tried not to think of how angry, above all else, he was at her.

Because that anger was only sadness, almost to the point of tears when he considered it.

What had he done wrong? He knew his time with her was not much during the winter, but resorting to finding pleasure from another man entirely? It made him sick.

He didn't realize how fast he was walking until he stood outside of the chamber doors.

The guard looked at him with a grimace. It was clear that this time, Cregan was coming in at just the right time.

He'd have to apologize to her guard for having to listen to that for so long.

"Ah-" then a long, breathy groan sounded from beyond the door. "Oh, g- oh, Tor-"

He threw the door open, not caring for the thud or the way he worried it may come of the old hinges.

But he freezes up as soon as he sees what laid inside of the room.

His pretty little wife laid across the furs of their bed in one of Cregan's tunics, the fabric puddling around her due to its size. But that's not the part that caught his attention.

It was her middle and ring fingers that she had pushed deep inside of her, her hand covered in her juices.

Seems she had froze as well, for her hand was completely still and her eyes were now on his in a horrified expression.

His breath caught in his throat. "W-Wife?" He asked hesitantly.

She slowly pulled her fingers out of her, and Cregan felt his pants tighten. She then sat up. The tunic covered more of her than he wanted, and what wasn't, she covered by pulling her legs up. She took in a sharp breath, "Forgive me."

She was beginning to cry.

But Cregan was still frozen. His mind was struggling to comprehend it all.

"I-" she sniffled. "I was getting so lost without your touch. I… I should have waited. A good wife would wait. Not do it all herself. That would be selfish," she looked up at him. "Wouldn't it?"

The sight of her frightened confession and shaking body snapped him back to. He pushed himself toward the foot of the bed. "I… I don't think it is," he whispered.

He tried to ignore her fingers as they fiddled with the strings at the top of the tunic.

"You looked so angry."

He gritted his teeth and looked back at the door, as if he could see the event that happened only moments before. "I was."

"At me," she clarified.

"No," he chastised. But this didn't clear everything up. He forced himself to not get lost in her pitiful eyes. "Whose name was that on your lips?"

"Hmm?" She seemed lost, as if he had asked a stupid question.

His head ticked to the side. "Don't do that. Whose name was that?"

"Yours," she said as if it was obvious.

"Don't lie," he growled. He couldn't help it as much as he tried. His heavy steps moved him to around the bed to her side now. "Look at me."

She forced her head up, tears now streaming down her face.

"Whose. Name. Do you moan. When I'm away?"

"Yours," she began to sob. "I only think of you!"

His anger only grew. He grabbed her jaw and leaned over her. It was an impending sight to see such a large man tower over a smaller woman in her bed. "I'll give you one more chance before I give up entirely. I'll not have a marriage built of lies."

"Cre-" she hiccuped. "Cregan, you're frightening me."

"I know, but I need the truth."

She now understood the fear in the eyes of his enemies when Cregan entered a room.

He was a frightening sight when he wished to be.

"If you didn't like the name, you should have said so," she whispered.

It clicked in his mind.

Fuck.

He pulled away as if burned, and stalked to the doorway, poking his head out to the guard. "Tell me the name you've heard these last nights."

"I-I believe it was Torrhen, my lord."

"Fuck!" Cregan yelled out to no one in particular.

He brought his head into his hands, making himself take deep breaths.

"You're dismissed for the night."

"My lo-"

"Get. Out."

Cregan shut the door, softly the time.

He turned to see the woman bawling on the furs of their shared bed. "I owe you more apologies than my words can describe."

She shook her head, her clean hand wiping back and forth, trying to keep the tears at bay. "Don't. I was selfish. I'm a horrid wife to you."

"I'm not angry at you," he persisted.

She paused and looked up at him. "What then?"

"They told me you were unfaithful to me, and I panicked. And all this time you've-" He sighed. "You've only been busy with yourself."

When she said nothing, he continued. "Moaning the name of another man?" He chuckled lightly, "Another man, my arse." He looked down at her, seeing that the tears were beginning to stop. He grabbed her other hand, only still barely wet with her moisture, and he cursed at the sweet thought of what he had truly walked in on. "Do these pleasure you as well as I can?"

She shook her head.

He nodded. "I can imagine. You should have only asked, my love."

"You're busy-"

"And you can keep me company," he teased as he sat down next to her. He nipped at her ear, "You can always rest on my cock while I work."

She let out a gasp at that, her hiccups now moving into small laughs.

"Would you do that?" He tried again. "Would you warm my cock while your king works?"

His words were beginning to have an effect on her.

"Hmm?" He asked, trying for an answer. "Would that keep such an eager woman at bay? I need an answer from you, sweet girl."

Her mouth opened a few times, only to close again. Finally, she only nodded.

"Good. Now, if you decide to forgive me- Make yourself decent and join me, hmm? You'll find that your king may request your presence if you take too long."

He could see the light come back to her eyes.

"I'll be waiting," he said as he kissed her temple and moved out of the room.

...........................................

A/n: a part 2 is in order 👀

Edit: Here's part 2!!!

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123, @wangjiangelangel, @kamitargaryen, @aegonswife, @lv7867, @helpmedecideaname

#fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x y/n #cregan stark x y/n #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #cregan stark imagine #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan fanfiction #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #cregan stark smut #cregan stark fanfic #hotd cregan #game of thrones fic

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nyao-mi · 1 year ago

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NOT MY ASTARION BRAIN ROT CONTINUING CUS LIKE i just got the scene where he literally says he misses seeing his face and that like he wishes he knew what he looked like and i??? WANTED SO BADLY FOR IT TO BE AN OPTION TO DRAW HIM

LIKE IMAGINE STARING AT HIM ACROSS THE BONFIRE, watching the way the light dances across his pale skin. youve been through hard times and one of the things you've learned to get through it was to draw

at first, you loathed the fact that you had to paint rich people for mere couple pieces of gold when you knew your art was worth more than that. you loathed even more that they'd upturn their posh noses at you and scoff when, truly, they knew what a treasure your art was.

now, seeing astarion, the way his white hair seemed to almost form a halo around his head, reflecting the moonbeams that graced his body, watching as he crossed his legs and meditated; you knew that you didn't regret a single second of the trials and tribulations that led you to this point.

you could finally put this agonizing skill to use. you could draw him.

and so you scrounged up some paper, an ink well, a quill; all things you'd pocketed during your adventures with the rather willful vampire.

you sat there, nib of the quill scratching against the parchment.

your art was nothing compared to the paintings you'd done before; these were mere lines and ink blots. you wished you could truly show him how beautiful he was through water color or pastels. instead, trapped in a land you barely knew, all you could do for him was this.

he had his eyes closed, of course, so you drew them from memory. strikingly red, like rubies, like blood. you didn't forget his crow's feet; you loved the way they wrinkled when he laughed. you shaped his lips, soft but rough from years of bite and chew, and formed it into his infamous mischievous grin.

his hair always seemed unruly but, drawing it now, it felt like drawing gorgeous chaos; there was an order to it, the way the bangs fell across his forehead, the way the sides feathered in front of his ears and curled behind them.

when you stopped, you realised you'd drawn him over and over, across several pieces of parchment.

the way he frowned and his fangs would glance across his lips. the way he'd look confused and his eyebrows would furrow. the way he'd look longingly at the stars, mind distant and eyes almost empty, like he'd made so many wishes that were never granted by the cosmos.

you never liked tooting your own horn but you felt like you truly captured him.

so, you took your pieces of paper, all drawings of him, dozens of them, small and sketchy; you took it all and you sat beside him and spread them out in front of you.

it took him a second to realise you were there. he'd been letting his guard down recently, especially when you were on watch duty, and it took you laying your head across his shoulder for his eyes to flutter open.

he opened his mouth, like there had almost been a retort slipping off his tongue, but the sight of your drawings stopped him.

he let out a ragged breath, eyes flickering across all of them. his clawed hands hovered in the air, trembling, as if taking a hold of the drawings would make them crumble under his touch.

and perhaps, in his head, he really believed they would.

'darling,' he'd call you, his voice wet with unshed tears 'what's all of this?'

of course he'd still joke. it was how he coped with things. he joked to hide how he truly felt and, of course, you were always there to understand.

'it's you,' you answered a matter-of-factly, as if you hadn't just turned this vampires world upside down 'its you the way i see you.'

and that's what makes him crack. because maybe, since you were the one that drew all of it, you hadn't noticed. but he noticed.

he noticed all the love and devotion you spilled across the page. every single detail, every single stroke, it was all from love.

and as someone who had never been on the receiving end of it, astarion cracked and he hid his face into your neck and he cried.

they were soft sobs, almost unnoticeable. but he cried nonetheless.

he cried for his past that he'd lost under his sadistic master, he cried for his difficult present that seemed impossible to escape, and he cried for this hopeful future you seemed to lay out in front of him.

he cried because he didn't realise that he had this much hope left inside of him. because he didn't know what else to do in the face of your devotion.

you just sat there, humming and rubbing his back, ignoring the way his arm wrapped around your waist, claws digging into your skin as if you'd disappear in front of him if he didn't hold on to you as tightly as possible.

#astarion bg3 #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #my sweet vampire baby #hes just a big pathetic meow meow

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the-thing-withfeathers · 2 months ago

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the archer’s arrow part 2 (w.a.)

are you hiding something?

part one | next part

a/n: teehee i am so sorry for the wait but i hope y’all enjoy this one <3

pairing: wednesday addams x female reader

warnings: mentions of blood & death

➶ ➶ ➶

thwip!

it was your arrow, definitely your arrow.

“go! wednesday! go!”

and your voice, definitely your voice.

wednesday gasped awake, sitting up instantaneously. she gripped her chest, bunching the fabric of her shirt up into a fist. her head turned to look at her alarm clock.

she was awake ahead of schedule but she was grateful she woke up when she did. she immediately got dressed, the stomping of her boots lining the walls of ophelia hall.

she reached your room, knocking thrice before stepping back.

you were already dressed, today was an early practice day.

“wednesday, you’re early.” you tilted your head, stepping aside to let her in anyways.

“i value punctuality.” she lied. she was getting better at coming up with them in her efforts to try and hide her true intentions from you.

a bit of her looked disheveled, like she had rushed to get there. you noticed her braid a little out of place and her socks mismatched— both black but definitely not from the same pair.

“right. well, let me finish this and i’ll be ready to go.” you took to your chair at your desk, settling back down.

wednesday noticed that there were a couple of envelopes littered across your desk. you were in the process of writing letters.

“you’re writing.” she pointed out.

“yes, wednesday. thats something i can do too.” you joked back, she remained stoic.

“what are the letters for?” she inquired.

“mainly family but also for some of my friends at the academy.”

“i understand your family lives remote but surely your friends have phones?” she furrowed her brows.

“they do, but we think letters hold more sentiment.” you clarified, scribbling more words onto the piece of parchment paper you had aquired. “and it’s always nice to receive things in the mail.” you shrugged.

“i suppose you might be right.” she agreed. you were surprised to hear her validation.

her eyes followed the ink that your pen left behind. it caught her attention particularly when you drew a heart next to someone’s name on the envelope.

you sealed the letter and then proceeded to stand, grabbing your gear from your closet. you opened the door for wednesday, allowing her to exit first.

you two walked side-by-side down to the practice range.

“did you have many friends at the academy?” she asked as you exited ophelia hall.

“many? not many. but a good handful. they were all very kind. i would love to know them forever.” you smiled, reminiscing at the memories you shared with them.

“any more than friends?” she asked, not looking at you. you looked at her with your lip curled. at the back of your mind, you questioned her curiosity about your romantic life.

“who’s asking?” you retaliated, a smirk plastered on your face. you glanced at her only to be met with a glare. you knew you would certainly meet your end if you left the question unanswered.

“yes, wednesday. i had a girlfriend.” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. it was a bit of a sore spot, this topic.

but wednesday cared not for sore spots.

“what happened?” she pryed further. why was she pushing those buttons so much?

the memories of her rejection flooded through your brain. she had no right to ask these things. you remember how the look on your face was probably the single most heartbreaking thing most of your fellow students have ever seen.

“why are you asking about this, wednesday?” you practically hissed at her.

“i’m not going to take advantage of your practice times and not get to know you.” she spat back.

“you… hm.” you paused. “i never thought i’d be answering questions from wednesday addams. you’ve changed too.”

“so answer them if my question intrigue you so much.” she continued walking at your pace.

“fine. we split up because i wanted to come back and we couldn’t do the long distance.” you answered openly. “but we’re still friends. she and i were very close, she helped me through a lot.”

you continued to stride towards the forest as wednesday simply watched you. you had someone, but were fine giving it all up to come back. the feeling opened a pit in her stomach, if only you had known what she was hiding.

—

she had taken a liking to your routines in the wilderness.

“i purposefully try to miss.”

you had told her that was the closest thing you could get to immersing yourself into your environment. murder of fauna in the nevermore woods was frowned upon, so you had to learn control.

“isn’t that counter productive?”

she asked back, but you proved her wrong. your control was incredible. nicking a squirrel by the hair of its tail, she watched the focus on your face as you tried to ensure it’s life.

“it’s harder to hunt down animals and make sure they live rather than die.”

today, she sat with a notebook. she said she just wanted to focus on writing up ideas for her novel while you practiced.

it was like she was your body double, just a shadow that lingered around while you did your thing. somehow, it worked. you felt more productive and so did she…

if she was working on her novel.

her pen glazed across the yellowed paper on her notebook. the ink morphed into the image of your bow. on paper, your body was facing the trees, arm reaching for an arrow from your quiver. wednesday captured your physique, how your body flexed with every move you made.

thwip!

wednesday did not flinch.

but she nearly did.

an arrow lodged into the tree trunk, directly above her head.

“i can literally feel your stare, wednesday. you’re making me nervous.” you teased. her eyes grew dark at you.

“try that again and you won’t have fingers to shoot an arrow with.”

you couldn’t help but smile at her empty threat. you knew wednesday more than either of you thought. you knew that she wouldn’t take your fingers, they would stay with you.

you drew your bow again, pointing an arrow straight at her jokingly.

“try me, addams!”

the statement made wednesday’s head shoot backwards, her eyes clouding over.

“try me addams!” you yelled at her. you were younger. your cheeks were fuller, you hadn’t quite grown into your face yet.

but there you were, back then, the object of wednesday addams’ affection. but she could never admit that then.

you were on your back, pinned against the ground with wednesday on top of you. she remembers this fondly, she was trying to steal back her hairties that you had stolen as a joke.

you were laughing. it was the most joyous she’d ever seen you. she didn’t know how she was getting that reaction from you.

she was reaching as you held the ties above your head, swinging your arm around to make sure she didn’t get it. she was growing frustrated.

she groaned and drove two of her fists down into your chest, robbing your body of air. you coughed as a response and caved in, handing her the hairties.

“okay addams!” you choked out, sitting up to be closer to the girl. you laughed softly, coming face to face with her. “i just wanted to play a prank on you.”

“pranks are a waste of your time. you have better things to do.” she said, standing up. “you’re going to be late for practice.” she looked down at you. you remained seated.

“they’re not a waste of my time if it means i get to spend time with you.” you said, honestly. sure, you were mildly flirting but you were geniune. wednesday didn’t know how to process the admitted desire for companionship. she returned the sentiment, but it wouldn’t come out of her.

“i’ll come to your practice then.” wednesday said, putting the hairties in her bag. “i’ll sit there and wait for you.” she held her hand out for you to take so she could help you up.

you grinned up at her from where you were.

that grin, she would have killed for it.

“deal!” you jumped up excitedly, a proud smile on your face. you took her hand to stabilise yourself.

and it was then she got her first vision of you.

you were older now. definitely older.

you were still in the forest, holding wednesday’s hand just like how you were in the real world.

your bow was in your left hand, like you had just come from battle. blood was dripping down from your ears.

you had blood staining your shirt. and it looked bad. something most people wouldn’t be able to recover from.

and it flickered between the image of your eyes crickling from how huge your smile was and the sight of you donning crimson in front of wednesday.

“wednesday!” you cried out to her, catching her in your arms.

and then she was back to reality.

“wednesday!”

a vision of a future in a vision of the past? that was new for her. her powers might have been trying to tell her something— something more urgent.

she remembers leaving you alone at practice that day, taking back her deal to you. she had to sit alone and process.

three days later, she broke your heart.

“you still get those often?” you asked, sitting her down against the tree trunk.

“of course i do.” she snapped, her conscience pounding from the double vision she just had.

“sorry, stupid question.” you said, regretfully. you sat in front of her, still holding her back to steady her. “do you want to talk about it?”

she hated how you cared.

“no.” she shook her head. “it was just… nothing. nothing important.”

“you and i both know your visions have saved countless lives, wednesday.” the way you said her name had her head reeling. “is there something we should be worrying about?”

“no… no.” she waved you off, pushing you away. you sat there nonetheless.

“okay well… are you feeling okay?” you worriedly questioned her.

“i would feel better if you stopped asking questions.”

you recoiled, knowing it was best not to provoke her like this. her heart twisted at your concern, they made her feel almost guilty for pushing you so far away.

she had broken you down slowly, she knew that now. you poured your heart into your affectionate manner, it was something that scared her.

you sat in silence, taking in your surroundings and letting her recover from the vision. you were around when she first started getting them, you knew how badly they affected her.

she almost wanted to apologise, tell you that she was sorry for snapping. but she couldn’t let you get close again.

“we should go soon, lunch is in 30 minutes.” you spoke up first, breaking the peace. she simply nodded at you, helping herself up. you followed suit, yanking the arrow you had previously stabbed into the tree out and putting it back into your quiver.

➶ ➶ ➶

you sat across from wednesday. she recalled a time you would fight for the seat beside her, but instead, you filled the space next to yoko.

“you’re already thinking about the rave’n?” you asked enid, munching away at your food in between sentences.

“of course i am!” enid jumped up. “it’s our last year here! we need to think about these things!” she turned to you and grabbed your hands.

“and it’ll be your first & last rave’n back! we have to make it good!” she squeezed your hands. you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back a smile.

“okay well, you’ll help me shop then.” you held your pinky up, which the blonde gladly took in her own.

“good! and you, wednesday?” enid turned to the shorter girl, tilting her head.

“my rave’n experiences haven’t exactly been pleasant, enid.” wednesday brushed her off. “maybe this is the year i skip out.”

“you shouldn’t. i would like you there if it’s my first one back and last one i’ll ever have.” you said, forgetting that such desires were usually turned down by wednesday.

but that was somehow enough to convince her.

“fine.” she grumbled, a contrast to the smile that was now stuck to your face.

“never thought that would be so easy. you must be the sentimental type, addams.” yoko commented. the mental image in wednesday’s head was her brutally bashing the vampire for saying that.

“do you know the theme?” you asked enid. the werewolf was finally asked to head the planning of the rave’n, she was perfect for the job.

“yup! since it’s halloween— we’re doing guts & gore!”

you swear you saw wednesday nearly crack a smile, this was right up her alley.

“and glitter!” enid added in, you were unsure if she was joking.

the joy on wednesday’s face faded slowly, you softly laughed at the change of expression.

“don’t worry, addams. i’m sure you’ll look fine bedazzled.” you joked, snickering. yoko laughed beside you.

she glowered at you, your smile persisted. did she no longer have an affect on you in these situations?

you really had grown.

“i would rather choke and die before covering myself in sparkles.” she took an angry bite of her food.

“don’t worry, wends, i’ll forgive you this once.” enid giggled. “gore is still your element, i’m sure it will be reminiscent of your first rave’n.“

“i heard about that.” you chimed in. “pig’s blood, right? maybe you can work with real blood this time, nobody seems to know the difference. and you’d probably enjoy that better.” you had said that almost too casually, it bothered her.

she was like an old book you hadn’t picked up yet still knew the insides and outs of.

“yes. maybe i will.” she answered briefly. you returned to your meal, finishing up and picking your bookbag up.

“gotta go, i have some botany homework to catch up on.” you said, turning to wednesday quickly. “did you want to join me for archery club later?” you asked.

she paused for a second, debating her answer.

“no, i can’t. i have homework i need to do in my room.” christ! why did she say that? she meant to say yes!

perhaps it was her defense mechanism, she wanted to keep you at arm’s length after what happened in the forest today. she needed some time to process.

“no worries. i’ll see you guys later!” you jogged off and waved as you left.

“is it weird hanging around her again?” yoko asked, she realised she hadn’t talked to wednesday about your return much.

“i suppose.” wednesday nodded. she had grown closer to yoko overtime, finding herself being honest towards her. “she’s changed a lot.”

“i mean, yeah. her entire environment changed in a whim. that makes you grow up.” yoko agreed. “you two seem to be getting along just fine.”

“indeed. but we can never go back to how we used to be.” wednesday tried to put up a front. “i’m sure she wouldn’t want that either.”

“given how you tore her heart in half last time you saw her? i wouldn’t put it past her.” yoko sighed, “but you can’t hold it against her forever.”

“i can and i will.” wednesday scoffed. yoko squinted at her.

“are you hiding something?” the vampire asked. yoko had an excellent talent for reading people, it infuriated the addams girl.

“no.” wednesday responded firmly, standing up abruptly and gathering her things. “i have to go. i’ll talk to you both later.”

enid and yoko shot each other worried looks.

wednesday stomped off to her room, a scowl evident on her face.

she hated this. all of it.

she hated that her visions were getting stronger, they were so loud that they were making her entire body hurt.

she hated that she would once again become responsible for saving someone, she was always thrust into the world of the weird. was it such a crime that she wanted some normalcy?

she hated you. she hated that she was forced to reject you in order to prevent your impending doom.

she hated you. she hated you for returning and making her feel things again.

she hated you. she hated that she was terrified of your death.

she hated you. she hated you. she hated you.

but she had to save you.

➶ ➶ ➶

author’s journal

okay i’m soooo sorry this took ages! and that this is relatively short! but i was in the middle of quitting my job and planning my christmas trip to see my family!

i’ll let y’all in on the reader’s powers more in the upcoming chapters but she is definitely a psychic!

i also am sooo excited for halloween!!! i’m going as wednesday this year and i also bought from the doc martens x wednesday collaboration so i’m so so keen on getting it in.

i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter & hopefully chapter 3 will be out before you all know it!

kisses xx

#the archer’s arrow #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x f!reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams fic #wednesday addams one shot #wednesday addams fluff #wednesday addams angst #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega x f!reader #jenna ortega angst

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hayatoseyepatch · 3 months ago

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𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: Hoshina knew better than to get romantically involved with a subordinate, but he sees you in a different light, the object of his desires.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: Soshiro Hoshina (Kaiju No. 8)

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.4 k

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Soshiro Hoshina x Fem!Reader. (SMUT). 𝖈𝖜: oral (fem receiving), minor impact play, dirty talk, praise, degradation, fingering.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: This is a very late submission for the pixel-cafe's "Challenge Friday", and this challenge was music-themed! *ahem* shameless plug just in case anyone was thinking of joining. *ahem*. I had so much fun with this, I lucked out with one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite artists. So naturally I had to use it to try out a new character from a new fandom I'm so in love with him someone save me. Anywhosies, I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖆𝖈𝖎𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊. 𝕹𝖔𝖙 𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖊𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖆𝖞 𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝖘𝖍𝖊,𝖘 𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖑𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖓𝖊𝖉.

He knew he shouldn’t, knew that in this line of work romance should be off the table. Knew that at any moment either of you could killed in the line of duty. Feelings in your profession were thoughtless, illogical, and just downright stupid. Why would he put his heart into someone he could lose at any moment? Why would he jeopardize your heart in the event he was the one to meet his end. The idea of losing you alone already had a painful pinch blossoming in his chest, he knew he should stop this, but even he knew it was too late. Knew you both were long past the point, even if a heartbreak was temporary, you both cared for each other too much. Even if separated you both cared for each other too much to not be shattered by the loss of the other.

But those thoughts are quickly shoved to the wayside, thoughts like that had no room in his head, not when he felt your body on his. Not when the both of you snuck out of your rooms in the dead of night. Not when he shut the door to the library with your back, his mouth finding yours hungrily in a desperate kiss. And certainly not when he let out an arms to swipe the contents of a table, uncaring of the clatter of books falling to the ground. Pushing you to lay against the cool wood, hiking your thighs around his waist.

“So fucking beautiful.” His words are muffled against your lips, breathless, barely getting them out before he's claiming your lips once more. The kiss was a mess of tongues and clashing teeth, the both of you unfathomably filled with need. A magnetic pull drew you to each other, unable to be separated until you were both satiated. His lips trailed down the side of your face to your neck. Open-mouthed kisses left in their wake, sharp canines finally sinking into your tender flesh. He hadn’t realized how hard he had bitten down, not until the metallic taste filled his taste buds. His wet muscle swiping against your skin, a tender kiss almost an apology against the afflicted area. But he couldn’t deny the knowledge that he had left his mark on you didn’t send blood rushing to his cock. The thought of anyone who was suspicious that you were taken would now have confirmation.

“Fuck kitten, I need you.” His own voice sounded foreign to his own ears, the need-filled husk making it sound octaves deeper. Hands tugged desperately at each other’s clothing, the overwhelming need to feel each others skin was all-consuming. He needed a taste of you, his mouth going dry with the need to taste you on his tongue. He was grateful you had forgone sleep pants, clad only in an oversized tshirt, one that made it oh so easy to slide your panties down your thighs. He gripped the damp material, unable to stop himself from pressing the fabric to his nose. Eyes locked on yours as he inhaled, relishing in the way you looked away from him in embarrassment, your cheeks darkening with a flush. He lets out a long drawn-out sigh, pocketing the article of clothing for later. “God, kitten, smell so fucking good. Let's see if you taste even better yeah?”

His hand trails down your body, long fingers sliding between your folds, collecting your arousal. His lips leave yours, parting only to whisper “You’re this wet already? Is this for me, kitten?” He purrs needing to hear you say it. His eyes nearly roll back in his head as a delicious whine fills his ears. “Its for you Shiro, all for you.” Those words pull a malicious smirk onto his features, his other hand coming down against the plush skin of your ass in a harsh slap, his lips swallowing the gasp you let slip at the impact. Seizing this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth once more.

𝕴’𝖒 𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖚𝖕 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖎𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊. 𝕴 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖉𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖇𝖏𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊.

His fingers glided against your clit, easily with the aid of your own slick arousal, rubbing tight circles before letting a finger slip past your entrance. Your warm velvety walls sucking in his finger, hugging the digit as if begging for more. He slides in another finger with ease, pulling from the kiss as he dropped to his knees before you. His eyes locked to where his fingers disappeared inside you, his heart racing in his chest. He leans back, admiring you being so exposed for him, hand pulling his fingers from your core, rearing back to slap your exposed cunt. You cry out, pain immediately being replaced with pleasure as he dives down, burying this face into your folds.

His nose bumps your clit as his tongue invades your entrance, curling inside you. He collects your juices on the wet muscle, withdrawing from inside you he pushes himself up. Tongue lolling out of his mouth, allowing your juices, mixed with his own saliva, to drip down on your neglected clit. You whine, the warmth contrasting to the cold of the room. You’re shaking, trying to hold the position he’s placed you in. “Shiro, please!” You cry, not even sure what you’re begging for at this point. “What does my pretty kitten need, hmm?” he hums, lips curled into a malicious smirk “You know you need to use your words and ask your vice captain how he can service you angel.”

“Please Shiro need more, fingers, please fuck me with your fingers vice captain!” You cried out, voice laced with desperation, hips wiggling wantonly in search of any kind of friction to your throbbing clit. He grinned, pulling away to bite harshly on your thigh, his title moaned from your lips did something to him. “Now how could I say no to such a pretty request?” He coos before plunging two fingers back inside your cunt. His lips attach themselves to your clit, lapping at the sensitive bud, nipping occasionally as he eats your pussy with a deep seeded hunger. The way your walls clamped down on his fingers as they pumped inside of you let him know you were reaching your first orgasm of the evening. He curls the digits, focusing on that spongey spot that has your vision going white. His words spoken against your pussy as he speaks. “Go on kitten, cum for me, cum for your vice captain.”

His words are the anchor that sent you plummeting to your release, the coil tightening in the depths of your stomach, moments from snapping. “Shiro, please, fuck fuck fuck!” You can feel his lips curl into a grin against you, other hand coming up to pin your hips to the cool wood of the table. His fingers work in tandem with his tongue, the cold of his fingers perfectly contrasting with the warmth of his mouth. You were thrown over the edge, walls suffocating his digits as they spasmed around his fingers. Your hips bucking desperately against his face as you rode out your orgasm.

Coming down from your high, you catch your breath, your chest rising and falling heavily as he stands to his feet. Hoshina slips his fingers from inside of you, cradling your still-shaking form to his chest, running his fingers through your hair in a soothing gesture. Only to lean down, lips brushing the shell of your ear to whisper. “Well now that we’ve gotten our warmup all done, you ready for the main event kitten?” the fingers of his free hand deftly freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. Quick to rub the head of his cock against your clit a few times before moving down to probe your entrance. Sure, rational thought would tell him that getting involved with you was a mistake. But, as he watched you writhe beneath him, looking up at him desperately through your lashes he couldn’t determine if you were born in hell or heaven-sent, but either way he was into it.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune. Character banner and writing by me. Tagging @pixelcafe-network.

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jouxlskaard · 8 months ago

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Hi so I may or may not have forgotten to actually post these on here. Ofc the original concept goes to the brilliant @wolfythewitch, I've just leeched off of it because I wanted to see Elias in the Hermes suit. Also I wanted to see Jon and Martin doing a little dance. And the way I drew Tim as Orpheus is just.... so similar to how regular Orpheus looks. I am sorry. He has a boob window so it's more accurate to his character.

As I talked about in my ask to Wolfy (which I believe to be what drew quite a few people here? idk at this point), I have quite a few reasons for why I think Elias would fit the role of Hermes. Obviously he's a much more sinister Hermes, but it's a neat little concept to play around with. I think the little things Hermes says (like the line above) can be interestingly recontextualised when you view Hermes as an antagonistic force, rather than a guide/mentor. I thought it'd be interesting to see Elias as someone who helps Tim/Orpheus because he knows that it'll end in tragedy every time, and finds enjoyment in the helplessness that the audience faces knowing how it ends and being completely unable to change it. Get Beholdinged, babey!

Maybe I'll draw some Gertrude!Hermes....? Who knows - I'm currently in the middle of doing a shit ton of work at the moment, both for school and for personal reasons. I've got Mechanisms fanart happening, some concepts for myself as a Corruption avatar (nature!), ideas for animatics (which I admittedly don't have much experience in, but I will try to do it), and some other random ideas. Only time shall tell.

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pbaz7 · 6 days ago

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CROSSING THE LINE — PART FOUR ♡

paige x azzi

word count: 5.5k

A/N: Alright this chapter is a little shorter than the other one's but the next few will be longer! We finally get to see the outcome of Azzi leaving 🫣. Please keep leaving comments and live reactions, they seriously make my day.

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

November 2023

Paige had tried calling Azzi that morning, her fingers hesitating over the screen before she finally pressed the call button. The phone didn’t even ring before going straight to voicemail. She frowned, trying again, only to be met with the same result.

Frustrated but not willing to give up just yet, Paige decided to try Caroline, figuring Azzi might have told her where she was or needed her help if she did go somewhere. But when Caroline answered, her tone was firm, almost apologetic. “Paige, I can’t tell you,” she said. “Azzi asked me not to.”

“Seriously, Caroline?” Paige snapped, her voice sharper than she intended.

Caroline sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I just… I can’t. You’ll have to wait until she’s ready to talk to you, she just told me she needed to get away.”

Paige ended the call feeling even more irritated, a bitterness creeping into her chest. So she moped around the suite for the rest of the day, her phone always in hand, checking it incessantly. Every notification made her heart jump, only to have her disappointment and hurt settle deeper when she realized it wasn’t Azzi. At one point, desperate to get her mind off of things, Paige tried going to the gym. She pushed herself through a far too intense workout, hoping the burn in her muscles with each set would drown out the ache she felt in her chest, but it barely made a dent in her mood.

By the next day, when she still hadn’t heard from Azzi, her frustration had morphed into something darker. She didn’t want to admit how much it hurt—how much Azzi’s absence left her feeling hollow and unsettled—so she did what she always did when she didn’t want to deal with her emotions.

She found someone else.

The girl showed up that evening, and while Paige went through the motions, it was different this time. Her actions were almost mechanical, her words borderline cold. She made it clear from the beginning that this was just for sex, no strings attached, and she stuck to it. When they were done, there was no lingering, no casual conversation, no pretending like she would call her. Paige stood up from the bed and handed the girl her clothes without hesitation.

“You can go now,” she said casually, her tone devoid of any warmth, of any emotion at all for that matter.

The girl looked taken aback, but Paige didn’t care. By the time the door clicked shut behind the stranger, Paige was already strolling into the common area, her expression unreadable, acting as if nothing had happened.

This pattern repeated over the next two days, Paige’s encounters becoming increasingly detached and transactional. She barely even looked at the girls as they left, her mind elsewhere entirely.

Wherever Azzi had gone, the damage would already be done by the time she got back. Paige’s hurt had hardened into something sharper, and she wasn’t sure if she was angrier at Azzi for leaving or at herself for caring so much that she did.

…

Azzi stepped into the suite late Monday night, three days after she had left, with her bag slung over one shoulder and a determined expression on her face. She was tired from traveling back from wherever she had been, but the weariness didn’t dill her resolve. She needed to talk to Paige.

The sound of buttons being furiously pressed drew her attention to the couch, where Ice sat with her headphones on, deeply engrossed in the game in front of her. Azzi gave her a small nod as Ice looked up.

“Hey,” Ice greeted, briefly pausing the game.

“Hey,” Azzi replied, as she glanced toward Paige’s closed door.

Ice noticed the look on Azzi’s face and raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything at first. Azzi turned away, heading straight for Paige’s door. Her hand was already on the knob, ready to open it without knocking—something she’d done a hundred times before.

“I wouldn’t,” Ice said kind of frantically, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Azzi paused, glancing over her shoulder with a confused frown. “What?”

Ice leaned back on the couch, her game forgotten for the moment, and gave Azzi a serious look. “Just… trust me. Knock.”

Azzi hesitated, the unfamiliar warning sending a feeling of unease through her. Still, she trusted Ice enough to take her advice. So with a quick exhale, she knocked on the door.

For a few moments, there was only silence as she waited. Then the door swung open abruptly, and Azzi found herself face-to-face with Paige for the first time in days.

Paige stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable, almost stoic. The usual warmth in her blue eyes was replaced by a cold detachment that sent a pang of guilt through Azzi’s chest. Azzi opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, her gaze shifted past Paige to the girl lying on her bed.

The girl was half-covered by a blanket, her hair messy and her body language far too comfortable. When the sight hit Azzi she immediately felt like she was about to throw up and whatever words she’d been about to say died in her throat as she just stood there.

Paige’s expression didn’t change, her blank eyes meeting Azzi’s as if daring her to react. “What?” Paige asked flatly, her voice devoid of emotion.

Azzi’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her hurt was too sharp, too raw to translate into words. Instead, she just stood there, stunned and speechless

Paige scoffed, the sound harsh and dismissive, and without waiting for a response, she slammed the door in Azzi’s face.

Azzi stared at the closed door, still lingering as if she could somehow push through the moment. But the sight of Paige's expression and the girl on her bed played on a loop in her mind, each replay cutting deeper.

Ice watched the whole thing but didn’t say a word. She just watched Azzi, her usually teasing demeanor replaced by quiet concern. As Azzi turned away from the door, Ice’s gaze followed her retreat, but she made no move to intervene.

Azzi walked past Ice without meeting her eyes, her shoulders stiff, her thoughts racing with everything she had planned to say but couldn’t. Ice let her go, sinking back into the couch with a sigh, silently bracing herself for whatever fallout was brewing between the two.

…

The tension that had settled between Paige and Azzi after that wasn’t just a passing thing. It was a slow burn, spreading through every practice and team event. For the past week and a half, everyone witnessed the shift. Nothing overly dramatic, nothing that caused an outright scene, but something was different. The chemistry that once seemed unshakable between Paige and Azzi had been replaced with an uncomfortable distance, one that made even the simplest things feel like obstacles.

Nika and Aubrey worked tirelessly with one another in practice to offset the forced movements, calling plays and adjusting to shifts in defense. But the connection between Paige and Azzi was broken. The fluidity they had once shared was absent, and the team could feel it.

It wasn’t just the lack of contact between them at practice; it was the silence that filled the space between each word they exchanged. When Geno called out instructions or made them do something together, their responses were clipped, their focus seemingly more on avoiding the other than executing the plays.

Some of the team tried to pry, casual questions about how things were going between them, but each attempt was quickly shut down. Paige would just brush it off clipped comments that were emotionless, and Azzi wouldn’t say anything, simply turning away, her usual warmth replaced with a wall that many of them hadn’t seen before.

It wasn’t that Paige didn’t care—it was that she cared too much. She just didn’t know how to express it. She couldn’t even look at Azzi without feeling the ache in her chest, the gnawing sense of loss that had taken root after that morning when she woke up alone with no explanation. So, she continued to fill the void, as she always had. She barely even noticed the girls anymore, but she kept bringing them around, hoping that doing something, anything, might help drown out the silence between her and Azzi and stop the thoughts from swirling in her head.

She couldn’t quite articulate why she did it to the few teammates that asked—it wasn’t because she was interested in any of them and she definitely didn’t get anything from the exchanges. It was just that they provided a brief distraction her mind clawed at in desperation to ease the dullness she was feeling through her entire body.

Each time Paige came home with a new girl in tow, Azzi’s irritation only deepened. She would be on the couch or in the kitchen, trying her best to remain composed, but the moment Paige walked through the door, it was as if the air shifted. Azzi’s eyes would narrow, her jaw tightening, and if she was already sitting, her posture would become rigid. Sometimes, if she was on the couch, she’d roll her eyes so dramatically that it seemed painful, the silent judgment lingering between them. She’d scoff under her breath, but never utter a word to Paige, as if silence alone could speak louder than anything she could say. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to confront Paige; it was just that the words never came.

The hurt was so clearly written on Azzi’s face every time, but Paige couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it. Her own heart was in too much turmoil to even care about whatever Azzi was feeling. The silence, while deafening, was easier than facing the rawness of everything they’d both been avoiding.

One morning, after another night spent at a girl’s house—another night of doing absolutely nothing this time around—Paige walked back into the suite, hoping to slip in unnoticed. Azzi was already in the kitchen, a mug of coffee in hand. She didn’t look up when the door clicked open, but the second Paige stepped inside, Azzi’s voice cut through the stillness.

“Nice at least you had the decency to actually stay the night with this one.” Azzi’s words were sharp, her tone biting.

The comment hit Paige like a jab to the ribs, the weight of the unspoken accusation hanging in the air between them. She froze in the doorway for a moment, the anger building in her chest before she exhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing.

Paige’s voice was cold, her usual tone with Azzi these days. “You don’t really get to speak about that, considering your history Azzi.”

Azzi’s eyes snapped up, her expression twisted in confusion and irritation. “What the hell are you talking about?” she shot back. “I’m not the one who’s sleeping with the entire campus.”

Paige scoffed, the sound bitter as she shook her head. “Niice let’s pull the whole Paige sleeps around card” she muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Whatever Azzi.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked into her room, slamming the door behind her, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment.

The silence that followed was harsh, until the faint shuffle of footsteps broke it. Ice stepped out of her room, brow furrowed as she took in the tension that had been hanging in the air. She glanced between Azzi and the door to Paige’s room, clearly concerned.

“What happened?” Ice asked, her voice low, but carrying the weight of her worry.

Azzi didn’t even look up, her gaze fixed on the empty space in front of her. “Nothing. Just another day,” she said, brushing off Ice’s question, trying to sound indifferent.

Ice crossed her arms, clearly not buying it. “Azzi, come on. I heard the door slam. That’s not ‘nothing.’ What’s really going on?”

Azzi exhaled sharply. “Ice it’s nothing I want to talk about, alright? Just drop it.”

Ice, who had spent days walking on eggshells around the two of them, wasn’t having it this time. She stepped forward, her expression soft but firm. “Look, Azzi, I get it. You two are in a rough spot right now. But I’m telling you, whatever you did to her you need to fix it.”

Azzi’s chest tightened at the implied accusation. She lifted her head, her tone defensive. “Why are you assuming I’m the problem here? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Ice’s gaze softened, but her voice remained steady. “Look, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything. I’m just putting two and two together Az. Paige was the one drowning herself in drinks that night. I had to basically carry her up the stairs when we got here. The next morning she came looking for you and she’s been like this since then…so.”

Azzi’s jaw clenched as the words sank in, but she didn’t let herself show how much they were affecting her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ice,” she muttered, eyes diverting from Ice’s gaze.

Ice let out a soft sigh, her frustration giving way to genuine concern. “Azzi You might not see it because you’re pissed at her right now or whatever, but you know Paige is the sweetest most selfless person we know. But whatever happened that night... it turned her into someone I don’t even recognize anymore. She just looks so sad or angry all the time and the few times she does crack a smile at someone it seems forced and out of obligation. That’s bigger than whatever argument you two are having. So please just fix it.”

Azzi’s breath hitched at Ice’s words, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of guilt and doubt about what she should be feeling. But she quickly shut it down, unwilling to listen, unwilling to accept that maybe she had played a part in all of this. Her mind set on her version of events. “Like I said, it’s not my fault,” she said sharply, as though trying to convince herself.

Ice’s voice grew softer, really trying to get through to Azzi. “You know Paige would do anything for you. She’d turn the whole damn world upside down if it meant you would be happy, and I know you know that because you teased her about it all the damn time. But right now whatever is going on, whatever happened I can tell she feels like you’re just... another person she’s lost and you know how she gets in her head about stuff like that Azzi.”

Azzi froze at Ice’s words, her heart beating harder in her chest. A part of her wanted to believe it. A part of her knew just how much she meant to Paige, But the bitterness inside her that had to watch Paige go back to sleeping around with random girls like it was nothing refused to let go. So she shook her head, a hard look in her eyes. “Paige treats me like every other girl she gets bored with, Ice. I doubt she’s as broken up about us not talking as you think.”

Ice didn’t even react to Azzi’s words. She had seen enough to know that they weren’t true. “Come on, you don’t even believe that,” she said, her tone calm but pointed. “You know exactly how she feels–you’re just not ready to admit it.”

Azzi didn’t respond. Instead, she let out a small, frustrated sigh and walked toward her room, shutting the door behind her without another word.

…

Even though Paige and Azzi weren’t in the best place—both of them carrying an unmistakable anger toward one another—they still cared about each other more than anything in the world. It was like they were tethered by an invisible string, a constant pull that neither could escape. No matter how far they drifted, they always came back, surfacing for a quick breath of air when they knew the other needed it most before going back under.

That’s why, when Azzi’s birthday rolled around, Paige couldn’t bring herself to ignore it. She knew how much Azzi had been dreading this day. They spent hours talking about it one day during the summer, the time where they would spend everyday getting to know one another. Azzi was spending her birthday without her family for the first time. So it didn’t matter how hurt, angry, and confused Paige was; she couldn’t let the day pass without doing something.

Azzi stepped into her room, the quiet stillness pressing against her in a way she hadn’t expected. Birthdays had always been bittersweet, but this one felt heavier—emptier. She had tried not to think about it all day, pushing the pang of loneliness aside. No family. No big celebration. Just another busy day of her telling the team she didn't want to celebrate.

Her gaze drifted toward her bed, and she stopped in her tracks. Sitting squarely on her pillow was a small, carefully wrapped box. The wrapping paper—adorned with the smiling faces of Elsa and Olaf—brought an involuntary laugh to her lips, soft and tinged with nostalgia. She knew instantly who it was from.

The memory of forcing Paige to watch Frozen—not once, but maybe 10 or so times—brought a bittersweet ache to Azzi’s chest. With a shaky breath, she walked over, picking up the box. The wrapping wasn’t perfect, corners slightly crumpled, but it was clearly Paige’s best effort. Azzi ran her fingers over it, a sad smile creeping onto her face.

She sat down on the bed, careful as she tore open the paper. Inside was a small jewelry box. When she opened it, her breath caught in her throat. Nestled in the box was a beautiful silver heart pendant, simple yet elegant, glinting softly in the light from her room.

Azzi’s fingers traced the smooth surface of the heart, her thoughts inevitably drifting to Paige. The way she smiled, the way she laughed, even the way she annoyed her most days– every detail of the blonde seemed to live in this small necklace. But her attention was soon drawn to the card that also rested on her pillow. Her chest tightened as she opened it, already bracing herself for what was inside.

The handwriting was unmistakably Paige’s—slightly messy but deliberate ‘Happy Birthday Az.’ But what truly made her breath hitch were all the signatures and words around. They were all from every single member of her family.

Tears welled up in Azzi’s eyes as she read the words they had written, her vision blurring. Paige had somehow managed to reach out to Azzi’s family—miles away—and have them all sign the card. She couldn’t even fathom how much effort Paige must have put into this, knowing how much it would mean to her.

A single tear slid down her cheek, followed by another, until they came freely. She clutched the card to her chest, her emotions unraveling as she whispered into the empty room, “God, Paige… why can’t you just let me hate you for a minute.”

In that moment, all the pain, the distance, the walls they’d built between them seemed to crumble just a little. Even when they weren’t talking, Paige had cared enough to remind Azzi she wasn’t alone. With trembling hands, Azzi unclasped the necklace and slipped it around her neck, fastening it securely. The weight of it against her skin was both comforting and overwhelming. And that, more than anything, left Azzi completely destroyed.

Despite this, the silence that lingered between them stayed the same. Both of them were experiencing feelings they had never felt before and couldn't find it in themselves to talk to one another. No words seemed like enough to express just how broken each of them were, just how much they both felt.

There was a hesitance that lingered between them, like an invisible wall neither knew how to break down. Pride? Fear? Hurt? Maybe all of it at once. Conversations that used to flow so naturally now felt like a daunting task, weighed down by all the unsaid feelings and misunderstood actions.

So, Paige and Azzi continued to exist in the same space, but their silence had become the loudest thing between them. The atmosphere in the apartment wasn’t as heavy but it still lingered and they both bore it in their own way. Paige had stopped bringing girls home, though it wasn’t out of any sense of compromise—more like resignation. They didn’t hold her attention, and it was more draining than anything to sit there and pretend to listen to whatever it was they had to say. The season kept her occupied, and though UConn had won their first two games, the chemistry between the players was strained. And it was clear to everyone—especially Paige and Azzi—that they were capable of so much more.

Then came the third game.

Despite the fact that UConn had won, Azzi played a game far beneath her usual standard. Missed shots. Bad decisions. A lack of the confidence that had once been her trademark. It wasn’t a total collapse, but it was jarring to watch it unfold. And everyone could feel it. The team had pulled through, but Azzi’s performance lingered in the air, like an unspoken question no one could answer.

Back in their shared suite, Azzi was isolated. She’d retreated to her room after the game, a rare moment when she didn’t have the usual fire in her eyes. The slow loss of her confidence throughout the game had been too much to handle, and as she scrolled through social media, the criticism rained down on her. The comments, the posts, the critiques—they all hit harder than they should have. The self-doubt crept in, overwhelming her. She knew she was better than this. She knew she could do better—but tonight, it felt like the world was telling her she couldn’t.

Paige, knowing exactly how much Azzi struggled with this kind of pressure knew Azzi would internalize it all, even when she shouldn't. So Once again coming up for a breath of fresh air even with the silence that lingered between them, Paige silently made her way to Azzi’s room, her hand reaching to open the door.

When she stepped inside, the sight of Azzi laying on her bed with her phone in hand, eyes red-rimmed and filled with tears, knocked the air out of her chest. Paige didn’t say a word. She simply moved toward Azzi, gently taking the phone out of her hand. Azzi didn’t fight her, didn’t protest, her hands too weak to stop Paige’s gentle movements. Paige locked the phone and set it aside before crawling under the covers next to her.

Azzi didn’t immediately respond. She kept her distance, staring at the pillow, her breathing shallow. Paige hesitated for just a moment before she carefully pulled Azzi on top of her, guiding her head to her chest. It was an unfamiliar gesture—but the silent bond they shared, the deep connection that tethered them to one another, made it feel like home the moment Azzi rested her head on Paige’s chest. Paige rubbed slow, soothing circles on Azzi’s back, her hand tracing over the familiar patterns as Azzi finally gave in, burying her face deep against Paige’s chest as the tears began to flow freely.

The silence between them was thick, but it wasn’t empty. It was filled with everything they couldn’t say. Azzi’s emotions—about the game, about herself, about everything she had been holding in—poured out in the form of quiet sobs. Paige didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. She just held her, feeling the warmth of Azzi’s body pressing against hers, reminding her of everything they still had, everything they could have.

As the time ticked by, Paige continued rubbing soothing circles on Azzi’s back, her touch slow and steady. The tension in Azzi’s body began to fade, her cries growing softer with each passing second. Paige could feel the weight lifting from Azzi’s shoulders, even if just a little, as she finally started to relax. Eventually, Azzi’s breathing evened out, slow and steady, and before long, the crying ceased altogether. The silence in the room deepened, and Paige felt Azzi’s body become still in her arms.

When Paige finally realized that Azzi had fallen asleep, her breath soft against Paige’s neck. Paige hesitated, a portion of her brain not wanting to disturb her, the other portion loving the way Azzi felt against her chest. But as much as she wanted to stay, to keep holding Azzi and never let go, she knew she had to leave. Slowly, carefully, Paige tried to extricate herself from Azzi’s grasp.

As she moved, Azzi, still in a deep sleep, unconsciously gripped onto Paige’s shirt, her hand clutching the fabric tightly, as if trying to keep her there. This made Paige’s heart ache. She could feel the pull of Azzi’s need, but as much as it hurt to tear herself away, Paige knew she couldn’t stay.

With a quiet sigh, Paige gently unwrapped Azzi’s hand from her shirt, and though every part of her wanted to stay in that bed, stay in that moment with Azzi, she slowly slipped out from under the covers. She stood beside the bed for a moment, looking down at Azzi’s peaceful face, before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on Azzi’s forehead. It was a kiss full of tenderness and care, an unspoken promise that, no matter how broken they were, there was still something between them that could be fixed.

She pulled away, her heart aching, and shut the door softly behind her.

As Paige walked toward her room, she caught sight of Ice standing in the hallway, her eyes immediately locking with Paige’s. The concern in Ice’s gaze was unmistakable, but it was the sadness in Paige’s blue eyes that struck her the hardest. Ice saw it. She saw how badly Paige was hurting, even if Paige was trying to hide it.

Without saying a word, Ice opened her arms, a silent offer of comfort. Paige hesitated for a moment, her chest tightening, before she reluctantly stepped into the embrace. She forced herself to hold it together, unwilling to break down in front of anyone. She stayed still, but her arms were stiff, her mind racing with all the things she wanted to say to Azzi, but couldn’t.

Eventually, Paige pulled back, the hug lingering just a moment longer than she wanted, and gave Ice a weak smile, barely more than a fleeting, pained expression. Without another word, she walked past Ice, retreating into the quiet of her room.

…

After that night, the silence between Paige and Azzi clearly wasn’t one of anger anymore. It was much softer, filled with longing, a quiet understanding that neither of them could fully name. They missed each other.

It started off slow. It went from both of them keeping their doors shut all day to them leaving them open. They would sit in the common area, not speaking, but neither one of them moving to leave. It was as if the space between them was hanging on a delicate balance, each of them too cautious to disturb it.

Paige would catch glimpses of Azzi absentmindedly playing with the necklace she had given her, the one she only took off for games and practices now. It was a small gesture that spoke volumes. Every time Paige saw it, a slight smile would tug at her lips.

They both had waved the white flag, they just didn’t know how to break the silence.

Paige now sat on the edge of Nika’s bed, her hands pressed into her lap, fingers twitching with restless energy. She couldn’t meet Nika’s eyes, even as her twin studied her with a knowing gaze as she was trying to get Paige to finally talk about what happened.

“Paige,” Nika said again softly, her voice a calm counterpoint to the hecticness that had been brewing inside of Paige. “I know something’s been bothering you. It’s been weeks, just talk to me so we can figure it out.”

Paige just shrugged, eyes flicking to the window as if the answer could be found in the dull gray light outside. “It’s nothing. I’m fine, Nika.”

But Nika wasn’t convinced. Besides Azzi she knew Paige better than anyone, knew the signs when Paige was holding something in. This wasn’t the usual “I’m fine.” This was different—subdued, like Paige was a thread stretched too thin, about to break.

“Paige,” Nika insisted, her voice softer now, “stop shutting me out. I can tell something’s been going on with you. We’ve been through too much together for you to hide it from me.”

Paige’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes darting to the floor. There was a tremor in her chest, and she fought to keep it contained. She wasn’t ready to talk, wasn’t ready to let anyone see the cracks in her armor just yet.

Nika didn’t push too hard, but she didn’t let up either. She sat down next to Paige, close enough that the warmth of her body was a quiet comfort. “Come on,” Nika coaxed, her voice gentle but insistent. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you’re not fooling anyone anymore. Definitely even me.”

Paige exhaled sharply, then, almost as if the words had been building up in her chest for too long, she whispered, “We slept together.”

Nika blinked, not sure if she’d heard her correctly. She tilted her head, voice steady but curious. “What? Who?”

Paige’s gaze snapped to the floor, her throat tightening as she repeated it, a little louder this time. “Azzi. Me and Azzi…we slept together.”

Nika absorbed the words, the weight of them sinking in slowly. She had seen the chemistry between Paige and Azzi for a while now, had seen the way they glanced at each other, the quiet touches when they thought no one was watching. It wasn’t surprising, exactly, but hearing Paige admit it was different.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” Nika said, voice soft but not judgmental. “Why is that a bad thing? It should be good, right?”

The question hung in the air, and that was when it happened. A single tear, slow and hesitant, escaped from Paige’s eye, tracing a path down her cheek; because yes, it should’ve been good. It should’ve been amazing. Paige’s hand instinctively went to her face, as if trying to catch the tear, but she couldn’t stop it. She felt it—felt everything—the confusion, the hurt, the abandonment all spilling over in that one small, silent tear.

Paige’s chest tightened, her breath catching as her walls finally crumbled in the quiet of Nika’s room. “She was gone the next day,” she whispered, her voice cracking. The words felt like rocks in her mouth, heavy and painful. “She... she just left me. When I woke up, she was gone.”

The floodgates opened then, the words pouring out faster than she could contain them. Her shoulders shook as another tear slipped free, and then another, until the tears were flowing in uninvited yet unstoppable. Paige’s chest heaved as the weight of it continued to press down on her, the pain she had been holding in finally spewing out.

Nika didn’t say anything at first. She simply reached out, pulling Paige into her arms with a tenderness that only she could offer.

“It’ll be okay, twin,” Nika whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’ll be okay.”

Paige couldn’t answer. She could only let herself break, the sobs wracking her body as Nika held her close, whispering assurances over and over again. The comfort of Nika’s arms right now was the only thing that kept Paige from completely losing herself to the turmoil inside her, she missed Azzi so much.

After a while she fell asleep in Nika’s bed, the weight of her emotions finally easing in the stillness of the room.

Nika didn’t disturb her. She let Paige sleep, knowing how much she needed the rest. After a few minutes, Nika gently moved away from the bed, making sure not to wake her. She grabbed a piece of paper from the nearby desk and scribbled down a quick note:

Wanted to let you sleep. Text me if you need anything. I'll be around. -Twin

With a soft sigh, Nika placed the note on the pillow next to Paige before she quietly exited the room.

The rest of the suite felt too quiet as Nika walked to the common area, her mind racing trying to figure out how to fix the situation. She needed to do something. There was only so much she could do by offering comfort. She needed to handle the bigger picture.

She pulled out her phone, her fingers moving with purpose. Within seconds, she created a group chat with the rest of the team, making sure Paige and Azzi weren’t included. The message was simple:

Team meeting in 20 minutes. Can’t be in my suite.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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valiantverses · 5 months ago

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Tremors

Ghoap X Reader

Summary: A therapist's waiting room wasn't exactly the place to have the most engrossing conversations. People were usually jittery, tense, or straight-up despondent. Somehow, you manage to strike a strange sort of connection with the retired military couple that had the Thursday slot just after you anyway.

Trigger Warning: Angsty. Discussions of Soap's injuries, the reader has mental health struggles and everyone has communication difficulties to some degree.

A/N: Scuttling out of the woodwork after having a pain flare, a breakdown, a career shift and getting some life altering surgery. Here's a new series while I rework all my previous writing!

Comments, questions, requests and constructive criticisms are welcome. Hate is boring and will go unacknowledged.

Maybe therapy wasn't for you.

Baring your soul to a total stranger and unearthing your life to be scrutinised by somebody. Then having that somebody turn around and drop you as a client because you were 'beyond their scope' and recommending you to someone else. It left an acrid sort of burn at the back of your throat as you settled into the sofa in the cheery waiting room of your hastily found counsellor.

Tick.

The leather underneath your fingers was squeaky. Static-y. The kind of leather where the grooves of the well-worn parts of the couch were buttery smooth and a slightly darker shade of black until it reached the bits that weren't quite as worn.

Tock.

The sound of papers shuffling and a low voice calling out a name drew your attention. It wasn't yours. Wordlessly, you watched a woman to your left stand up. The rubber of her cane cracked across the linoleum as she she signed her name on to the clip board at the desk, murmured her greetings to the therapist and made her way inside, the door shutting with a soft click.

Tick.

St. Jude-Thaddeus Hospital's Rehabilitation and Pain Management Clinic had the honour of being the only facility of any sort in your area that offered psycotherapy services. Affordable ones, anyway. Something to do with being integrated into the Ministry of Defense Hospital Units for disabled veterans- but you didn't need to know, so you didn't ask.

You'd take what you could get.

Tock.

You glance up at the clock once more, seeing that you were now close to 10 minutes to your first ever appointment with this therapist. A part of you wanted to fast forward the next 40 minutes of your day. Maybe the next few hours. Get to the point where your obligations were done and the first meeting was over and done with.

Tick.

When the door opens next, you don't look up this time. You try to contain the shake of your hands and focus on that squeaky leather underneath you. The thumps of footsteps don't register before the slight sink of the couch does. When you glance up, it is to the bluest eyes you could imagine.

He was handsome, a part of your brain helpfully informed you. Dark eyelashes framing a sort of azure blue, shards of indigo flecked about like sleet in the rain. His tanned skin had that slight leatheriness that could only come from working under the sun, the hand jutted out towards you littered with callouses-

"-hnny MacTavish, haven't seen you round here before."

Your hand moves mechanically to accept his handshake, mouth producing syllables you knew was supposed to be your name.

Realising the beat of conversation had stretched on longer than it should and it was now your turn to fulfill your part of the social contract that the stranger had looped you into, you broke eye contact and glanced back down at the worn linoleum.

"It's my first time."

There was a snort to the other side of you, from a bulky man sat diagonally from the line of chairs you and Johnny were sat in.

You quickly ammend your statement "-with this therapist. Just moved in."

His bulk seemed to carve away the space of the room, hulking shoulders leading to a thickly corded neck, lower face covered in a black face mask and his eyes a thin ring of deep ocean blue. What little skin you could see of his face looked sallow. Drained.

"Ignore tha' git. Insists on tagging along with me like I'm a wee wain and wreaks havoc of all sorts." The voice from your left supplied as you quickly began reassessing the relationship between the two strangers you found yourself in the middle of.

"You two know each other?"

There was a rumble to your left, a deep bass-y sound you realised was laughter. "Could say that, ma'am. "

"My partner," Johnny supplied, eyeroll evident in his voice as you turned to look at him once more. It was a little overwhelming having to keep turning your head to and fro because of the way the chairs were positioned, and your fingers dug into the leather once more.

Slippery, smooth. Pebbled with some long indentations.

"That's Simon. We've been at this shrink for give or take four months now-"

"Fifteen weeks."

"*-would'a noticed a bonnie lass like you on our weekly, enlightening visits." His quip was cheery, but there was an element of sarcasm you couldn't quite place.

This conversation felt like navigating a field full of landmines. Couldn't ask about his condition, why the weekly visits rather than the gold standard (That is, the national healthcare coverage) of every two weeks, why fifteen weeks- so you asked the only thing you felt you could.

"She any good? The counselor, I mean."

Johnny blinked, head tilting and making eye contact with his partner - Simon - there was a flash of something twisting across his face as the wordless conversation happened in a split second.

It was fascinating. The sort of communication that only happened when two people had an intimate well of knowledge of the other person.

Then dawn broke across Johnny's face and he turned back to you with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Aye, lass. Not afraid to crack into your brain and really dig around. Well good laugh too, great to interact with given I've really only spoken to four people or so since I retired an' all."

You tried not to read between the lines. Tried not to stare at the way he leaned back to rub at the jagged line across his scalp, the puckered edges evident under the peach fuzz of dark hair. He was giving you what he could without dragging a stranger into his own vortex of struggles. You could relate.

"Retired? From military service?"

Regret looked different on people's faces. For some, there was a grimace. Maybe a slight widening of the eyes in realisation, or a hitch in their breath. Self-reproach for bringing it up in the first place. For Johnny, it appeared to be a slight furrowing of his brows and a darkening of his sky blue eyes as he edged backwards.

A cough and the scraping of the chair behind you drew your attention, looking to your right to meet the cold stare of the blond. Briefly, you felt like a cornered animal. Your hands grew still. His gaze was assessing, stony face giving nothing away except the overwhelming vibe of back the fuck off. His eyes flicked over your shoulder and then back to yours.

"Sounds like they're finishing up in there. You should sign in."

It appeared you had clambered out of the field of land mines only to immediately fall into a sinkhole.

Stuttering your goodbyes, you make to stand up, making the same trek the young lady had towards the desk. You fought to control the tremors of your hands. One stayed tucked deeply in a pocket as the other wrote your name down through sheer muscle memory. Sure enough, the door opened and the woman walked out with her mobility aid, a cheery voice calling out your name from inside.

As your shaky palm took hold of the doorknob to twist it so you could enter the room, you caught snippets of the conversation happening behind you.

"Bothering you-"

"-Ost, It would have been fine-"

"Your hands were shaking again-"

"Ach- I had it under control!"

"You don't owe strangers anything. Not after everything you've-"

"Please- I just- I need to have a feckin' conversation about it without breaking down-"

The door shut with a click.

As you sat down in front of your new therapist, you resolved to try and move your appointments to a different day.

#ghost x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #COD Fic

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lunajay33 · 7 months ago

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Soulmate🖤

Summary: You always wanted a deep connection with someone but never found it, that is until the apocalypse happens and a redneck archer saves you and things grow

•Masterlist•

I always envied the people around me finding their soulmates, how happy they seemed but I always tried to stay positive praying that someday that would be me, smiling so bright at the person across from me, but when the apocalypse hit I felt that hope dwindle all my friends and family gone, just me wondering the woods outside of Atlanta

I’ve been walking for days running low on food and water, walking until my legs give out when I come out of the trees to an opening of a serene blue quarry, I found a path down to the water and filled my canteen when I here a snap behind me, in fear of it be a walker I jumped and turned my knife tight in my grip but what came out of the path my my heart jump, a tanned man a little scruffy with a cross bow pointing straight at me

“How’d ya find the camp?” His voice grumbles and it’s like his voice shot right through my heart

“I didn’t, I just came from the woods and found this quarry and I just needed water” he seemed hesitant but he lowered his crossbow, I could tell he had a rough exterior but for some reason that didn’t bother me, there was something about him that drew me in

“I’m y/n”

“Daryl”

He showed me the camp and the group let me stay, over the next week he slowly warmed up to me, according to Lori he doesn’t act nice to anyone here other than me, he just came out of the woods from hunting when I met him at the tree line having been worried about him

“Daryl! How did it go?”

“Fine, got some squirrels, here” he said handing me a pink tulip

“For me? Thank you Daryl it’s beautiful” I saw him look away but not before I noticed the blush on his face

When the camp fell he came back just in time to save me holding me tight like this was the last chance, that night he had me sleep in him tent as he guarded it just incase, when we left for the cdc the next day he had me stay with him, when Jenner was showing us around Daryl pushed us into a room claiming it before others, i felt so special anytime he treated me like I was precious cargo

“Do you think we can make a home here?”

“Don’t know, just want ya safe”

“Can I ask you something?” He grunted with a nod

“What are we, I mean from the moment I met you I’ve felt so connected to you and I think you feel the same but I don’t want to push you”

“All I know sunshine is that yer mine and I ain’t gonna let nothin happen to ya”

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saturdaysky · 1 year ago

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You may resist, but it's too late. You already embraced the powers the parasite gave you. You leveraged them to manipulate, to dominate, to survive. Your nature is no longer your own.

Mayhew failed the save to resist the Emperor's offer, and I have never been more pleased at a consequence! What an amazing moment.

Timelapse, line drawing, and character musing beneath the cut.

This choice!! Or rather, this lack of choice!

I love, love, love how failing the save made Mayhew's own will ambiguous, even to himself. He didn't want to be changed, he didn't want to forfeit his humanity (gnomanity)...or did he? He resisted. He opened his mouth to say I will not, but the door to his mind was already unlocked, power welcomed in. Mayhew will never know who unlatched it.

Also, while this is a Gale run -- Mayhew and Gale make each other worse in the most devoted, well-meaning way; the heavens will rue their names -- it also kind of feels like an Emperor run. A subtextual badwrong not-romance.

The Emperor and Mayhew are allies of circumstance turned intimate enemies. The Emperor listens to Mayhew's every thought, gives protection which Mayhew needs, offers advice and temptations which Mayhew takes. Mayhew likes the Dream Guardian; Mayhew cannot shut the Emperor out. Mayhew would see the Emperor dead, if he let himself think about it, but he would miss him after he was gone. And, of course, Mayhew is too curious for his own good, and the Emperor is full of answers.

For the two of them, partial ceremorphosis is a kind of consummation: what could be more intimate than shaping someone from within and without? Metaphorphosis is a gift, by one telling, and a horror story by another.

You are exquisite, the Emperor praised. Mayhew will never know if he became so by his own will.

(He failed the save by one (1) point.)

---

Timelapse! It includes all the silly things I drew for my friends, including: 1 tonsure, 3 neon signs, 2 cat emoji, 1 crotch face, and the emperor's armor drawn with my left hand. Spot them all!

Lines!

I don't usually work primarily with line, but I love it. In some ways, it's easier than painting, and in other ways much harder. I find I can't fudge things as much with linework as I can with paint; because the stroke is smaller, I have to be more specific. Even if I abstract details away, I need to understand the underlying form until I know what I am abstracting. It was fun having to be so rigorous.

#mayhew: who unlatched the door to my mind? how did this happen?#also mayhew: [eating his 20th mindflayer tadpole]#but also -- if you get Bernini Apollo and Daphne vibes from this art you are correct #this was such a fascinating moment and i am so glad mayhew failed #he's skirted through life evading consequences but this one got him!!#the emperor is awful but he's a fav. manipulate mansplain mindflayer am i right #my art #mayhew #bg3 emperor #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #the emperor x tav #gnome tav

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empty-movement · 2 months ago

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OLD SCHOOL ANIMATION NERDS, I SUMMON THEE TO ASSIST

Hey! Vanna here! So I recently, in a rage at the loss of the end-of-series lot of production materials, bought a cheaper lot I had been curious about, and I kinda struck animation history gold with it! Try as I might to pull the whole context together, I need y'alls help accurately naming and identifying what I have!!! There are MANY MORE of these, all from the same episode, an Utena one, a LOT of Nanami, and a group shot even, all following this similar formula. But let's be honest, Vanna and Yasha wanted that sweet Touga smugness. Analysis and questions below the cut! These aren't ALL the sheets, there are ones for the face shape and sleeve also but to demonstrate. Also, fucking amazingly, I also have the storyboards for this episode, so I can even tell you the shot number is 287 ISNT THAT COOL

So Utena fans. You may or may not know, but episodes 6 and 8 had very chaotic productions, and did end up getting swapped in the end. Per Ikuhara's directory commentary in the Nozomi Blu-ray:

He makes explicit reference here to Akemi Hayashi, credited as the animation director for the episode. I can't recall where I saw it now, but I know the difficulty of drawing Touga on model is mentioned somewhere in all the production stuff I have.

Now. Here's the problem. I DON'T FUCKING KNOW WHAT THEISIWEUGWEYGF what do I callll these. My understanding is the the douga is the final line art, transferred onto the cel, and that is the only thing that you call a douga. A douga is the 1:1 match to its cels in a sequence. With an anime like Utena, it's pretty often going to be included with the cel, if you obtain one. These are douga, the final line art that creates the animation, scans donated by JadeSabre and edited into sequence. The frames are numbered in the top right, and there are no notes or anything drawn on the sheets.

Now. That is NOT what I have above. So none of these materials are douga, they are...genga? Help? (This will get wild with Nanami, where I even have a green sketch that is clearly like, VERY FIRST draft of the shot...)

What I have are the key frames, to my understanding. Meaning these represent a point much earlier in the production process. On first glance, the white sheets are significantly cleaner, but they are also so far off model they're flying along with the Voyager probes in interstellar space. They're very capably drawn, don't get me wrong, but they're clearly done by someone who is not on the Dorito face bandwagon. This is apparently pretty common? You get your initial key frame sketches (genga??) made, and then the animation direction (Hayashi??) grades your work by making messier, but more on model versions of the shots. These are the yellow 'correction' genga?

The douga of this shot are likely with the cels. There are 11 distinct cels of Touga's face (others for the sleeve), guided by the 4 key frame sketches I have here. Looked at individually, I can even see where the filled in frames struggle a bit more to be on model than the key ones, even in the final product.

So clearly, what I have are some pretty early process materials where there was a bit of a back and forth about how to draw the characters. The others I have are similar corrections, but this is the absolute most drastic one. It's like they said 'just do it like kinda shoujo and we'll iron it out later.'

The question I have is...can I safely assume these yellow correction sheets are actually Akemi Hayashi originals? Or would there have been another person in this process doing this correction work instead? Would there be a way to know who drew the original ?genga? That may not be possible to ascertain, but it would be really cool to try, since this episode was a Chaos Production, since I have the actual storyboard for it, since I now have a neat piece of context about what the Chaos might have meant. This shot always stuck out to me in the first arc, because it's true that for a lot of the first arc, Touga and Saionji look....far more like the first drafts here. The strict adherence to the Hasegawa style gets enforced later in the series, but this is an example of the exchange that needed to occur to get folks on board with what was a pretty unique art style.

PS. This is torture, the shape of these means I actually need to make two scans of each one and stitch them together, which is nervewracking when you want them to overlap properly and also you don't want to wreck your toilet paper ass production materials pressing them into the scanner bed. Also several are fucking taped together and lemme tell you, 25 year old 'clear tape' don't stay clear and don't stay sticky.

Basically, any context or knowledge anyone can impart I would appreciate a lot! I know I've got something really cool here, but I am struggling to get much clear information about it, because Google is broken.

#utena #revolutionary girl utena art #animation #animation history #90's anime #anime production materials #utena meta #empty movement #touga #touga kiryuu #animation process #genga

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cherryyycosmosss · 5 months ago

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𝘼𝙣 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣.

Pairing: Jo Togame x f!reader

Synopsis: Togame accidentally confessed to you but in the end, he's grateful that he did :)

Word count: 4.9k

Contains: Fluff, just pure fluff.

Warnings: None.

Enjoy! 💗

"𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚."

You smiled when you saw Togame wave at you from your balcony.

The fact that you had given him that same sweet smile countless times now, but his heart never failed to skip a beat because of it, was beyond even him.

You put on your shoes and almost lost a tooth when you stumbled on your way down the stairs, hurriedly making your way to him.

Togame felt a familiar kind of heat rise up in his chest when he saw you walk towards him with the brightest smile on your face and suddenly, any hesitation that he felt before about taking you out in the middle of the night because you said you were craving some ice-cream, evaporated right off his mind because if it meant that he could see that adorable look on your face, he'd be willing to take you out every day.

God, no matter how much he denied it in his head, he was definitely stupid in love with you.

"I didn't think you'd actually show up, Jo."

You said, looking up at him.

"Yeah?"

He smiles before saying-

"Hey, you should've at least put a jacket on, it's chilly out here."

Togame said, removing his jacket and handing it to you.

"Here, put it on."

"T-Thank you."

You nod a little before putting the orange jacket on.

"Let's get going, yeah?"

He said, failing to hide the small smile that made its way on his face because of the way his jacket hugged your small frame, making you look even more adorable, if that was even possible.

"Yep."

You give him a nod and you both start making your way to the nearest convenience store.

You've been friends with Togame for a while now, you both were in the same club in your school and exchanged numbers for club stuff.

You were both quite polar opposites in terms of your personalities but that's probably also what drew you both closer in such a short period of time.

"What flavour do you want?"

Togame asked you, opening the ice-cream freezer after you both had made your way into the shop.

"Hmm, I want the mint chocolate-chip one."

You said pointing at the green packaged one.

Togame shot you a questioning look before taking the one you wanted and a vanilla-flavoured one for himself.

You were about to hand your money to the cashier when Togame came up from behind you and shot the cashier a glare that basically said- "𝘛𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘵." before handing his own money to him.

"Hey, I was the one who called you out so late, this one's on me."

You said, scrunching your eyebrows at him.

"You're fine."

Togame said softly, patting your head lightly and practically dragging you out of the shop.

You both sat at the tables set outside the CVS, the chilly breeze sending a slight shiver down your spine.

"I can't believe you were craving ice-cream out of everything when it's like 53°F outside."

Togame said shaking his head, while opening his packet of ice-cream.

"It's never too cold for ice-cream. Besides, the cold never bothered me anyway."

You said imitating the way Elsa said the last line in 'Let it Go'.

Togame chuckled and took a bite before asking you again-

"So you like occasionally having toothpaste, huh?"

"Heyyy, it's not toothpaste, it's my favorite ice-cream flavour."

You glare at him with a slight pout on your face, looking utterly offended.

Togame threw his head back a little and laughed, finding the look on your face absolutely adorable.

"I can't believe I'm in 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 with someone whose favourite ice-cream flavour is toothpaste."

The words leave his mouth before he can even process it and his hands freeze.

"I just told you it's not toothpaste, it's the best ice-cream flavour out there, you can't just-"

Your lips halt mid-sentence and your grip on the spoon you were holding loosens when you realise what he just said.

"Y-You w-what?-"

No, there was no way, he didn't just-

You were sure you had heard him wrong, there was no way Togame had just confessed that he was in love with you, it sounded crazy even in your own head.

"I think I heard y-you wrong, I'm sorry, what d-did you just say?"

You say laughing awkwardly and looking away from his eyes.

"No, you heard me right."

Your eyes widen the moment those words leave his mouth.

"W-What?"

"I said you heard me right, 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡."

Your ears turn red at the nickname.

"Y-You're...in love with m-me?"

You were certain you sounded crazy at this point, if felt weird even actually voicing your thoughts in front of him, as if you were speaking a foreign language for the first time.

He nods and you feel fireworks go off in the back of your head.

"It's actually been quite a while.."

He continues, rubbing the lower back of his head, looking just as nervous as you were.

"I d-don't exactly know how to do this, but now that I have the chance, I'd like to um, you know, 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙪𝙩 , if you'd like, that is."

He said the last few words looking you straight in the eyes and you felt your cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

Am I dreaming? You thought to yourself, it wasn't that you weren't head over heels for him yourself but you never thought he even felt the same way, let alone ask you out.

"So..?"

His voice woke you up from your trance and you cleared your throat.

"𝙔-𝙔𝙚𝙨."

"Yeah? You'd like to go out with me?"

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, eyes widening slightly.

You nod before warning him.

"Only if you stop calling my ice-cream toothpaste."

Togame chuckled again, the sound making your heart bloom in your chest.

"Alright, 𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙚."

He smiles before ruffling your hair.

You giggle and Togame swears he felt his heart explode in the moment.

He knew he didn't exactly look like the typical-nice-approachable guy but the fact that you had still reached out to him, always being so sweet to him, never failed from making his heart swell with warmth.

After you both were done eating and about to just leave, Togame held out the palm of his hand and you looked up at him, blinking in slight confusion.

You slowly place your palm in his and you both make your way back home, smiling to yourselves and that was the moment he knew..

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙜𝙤.

#loved writing for him 😭❤️‍🩹#togame #jo togame #wind breaker #fluff #shishitoren #sfw fluff #fem reader #togame x reader #togame x you #spoiler free #wbk togame #fluffy #wbk anime #wbk x reader

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dcandmarvelimagines · 3 months ago

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sweeter than you ever knew. (pt 4)

Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature Word Count: 7.9k (yikes omg)Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, fluffy and softness, Logan gives you a bath and also makes food, Wade is so gentle and cute, lots of kissing!!, descriptions of bruises, mildly horny? Author's note: Hi lovelies!! Take some intense fluff and softness! I maybe made Wade a little too serious in a spot but I just needed it, we all needed it after how intense that last chapter was <3 This is also an eternity long omg, but the comfort took me over, mind and soul. Next chapter is the last one :’( it makes me so sad to think that this will be over soon. But it’s going to be THE chapter. All the sexual tension is finally going to be resolved. ao3 Tags (if you would like to be included or removed, just let me know. If I forgot someone I'm so sorry!!): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o @thedevilsaysthings @jaeyuni @redmitsuru5 @jeffs77 @spideybv28 @trumanbluee @jennapearce13 @chxrrybomb22 @7soulstars @what-the-jams @lostinheavensworld @purplestars222 @movieat @whiskeyghoul @paintballkid711 @unmotivated-artist164 @sun7lowxr @minniekitties @ceobuggy @amararosesblog @harryshousewhore @bontensbabygirl @belgium2 @g0ldenstarr @wolvndmouth @sseleniaa @reddesires

The next hours passed in a haze. A group of men in large cars picked us up. No flashing lights pierced through my closed eyelids, so I didn’t think they were police. Logan kept me in his arms, growls rumbling through his chest whenever someone came closer. At some point my numb hands pushed his mask away. I just want to see him, see the comforting lines of his face, finally be able to read his expression. But my brain was sluggish, unable to make sense of him as he blinked up at me. Instead, I nuzzled my face into his cheek, smearing blood on his skin, eyes drooping closed.

Then I was in a bright room and a woman was talking to me. She was wearing a lab coat but I didn’t seem to be in a hospital. Logan and Wade weren’t in the room with me. She told me she was a mutant that would be able to heal me, but not completely, that I would still be stiff and my wound would turn to a horrible bruise. I just gave weak acknowledgements to all her questions. I barely felt the discomfort of my skin and muscles knitting themselves back together. Her touch was gentle as she wiped away the gore from my face and hair, the same healing ability applied to my busted lip and aching cheeks. She handed me a bottle of painkillers, telling me I would need to rest for at least a week. I was grateful that she also gave me a pair of thin pants and slip-on shoes. She helped me hobble to the door and out into a bare hallway. That’s where I found a mask less Wade, bouncing his legs in a chair that seemed near breaking point, and Logan pacing, his hair messy from running his fingers through it. They both sprung toward me and I collapsed into Logan’s awaiting arms. Wade kissed my temple as his hand caressed down my back. The woman explained my situation to them before she disappeared again.

“We’re going to stay over, at least tonight, okay sugar muffin?”

“Can you stay longer?” The idea of being alone, especially in my apartment, made my head scream in resistance. My hands scrambled against Logan’s costume, trying to cling to him, to make sure he stayed right here next to me.

“Of course sweetheart,” Logan murmured, “we can stay as long as you need us to.” His beard scrubbed at my forehead as he drew me close.

“I’ll go back to the apartment and grab our stuff then.” Wade parted with one last peck at my cheek. Logan let me rest my head against him for a long moment. The fact that I was alive, that I had survived everything hadn’t settled in quiet yet. But I knew it was only a matter of time before I broke down. Maybe Logan knew it as acutely as I did because he lifted me into his arms once again. My consciousness blinked in and out. We were in a car that smelled of cleaner. We passed by the bright skyscrapers. Then I was being jostled once more as Logan stepped out of the car. He placed me on my feet before crouching down in front of me. I didn’t ask for an explanation and just climbed onto his back, arms and legs latched around him. He climbed the steps to my fourth floor apartment.

“I’m sorry I ruined your shirt,” I whispered, lips next to his ear. His hand squeezed my uninjured thigh.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I have plenty more that you can have.” By the time we exited the dingy stairwell, dawn was peaking through the hallways windows. Wade had clearly told him my apartment number, or I had in my pain induced delirium, because he found my door easily. I glanced down.

“I guess my pizza actually was delivered. Probably bad now though.” I would have thought after two weeks it would have been taken away or would have started to smell. Odd. Logan jiggled my door open and brought us inside, catching the pizza box with his foot and bringing that in as well. My body felt lethargic as I let go of Logan. My healing leg felt far stronger than before, only minor tremors in the muscle. He was drifting through my kitchen, filling a glass with cool water from my fridge, grabbing snacks from my cabinet. “Can we take a bath?” He studied me, worry etched onto his lined face. “I don’t think I have the energy to do it myself.”

“Drink this,” he tapped the glass, “and eat this first,” he pushed a small packet of crackers toward me. I did as he asked but didn’t sit. If I did, I doubted I would get back up again. He watched me closely, like I had any reason to hide from him. Once the glass was empty and the crackers gone, I trudged to my bathroom. My leg was tense and hard to move. The doctor had done a good job healing my face, leaving me only with two twin bruises on my cheeks. They were already in the yellow stage of bruising and would be gone within a few days. I stood in the familiar space for a moment. Something soothed in my soul at the sight of my towels, the new ones that were like a cloud. I felt back to myself, if only a bit.

While I waited for Logan to join me, I brushed my teeth. Twice. Then I raked a comb through my knotted hair. I started the bath, not caring about my neighbors and the early hour. When I turned, I found Logan in the doorway, naked. The small horny part of my brain shouted at the rest of it to take in every inch of his sculpted body. But I just didn’t have the energy. “Sorry,” he huffed, sounding a little self conscious. “The suits are hard to get out of without looking stupid.”

“Hopefully you can help me out of these,” I plucked at my shirt, “without making me look too stupid.” Fine, a small win for horny brain. He approached me in tentative steps, like I was about to attack him or scream. “Logan, I’m not scared of you.” His face relaxed, if only slightly, but he didn’t seem reassured.

His hands were gentle as he lifted the filthy shirt off me. The calluses whispered across my hips as he reached for my pants, thumbs hooked through my panties, and let them pool around my feet. I braced myself on his shoulders so I could remove my shoes. Logan’s eyes drank my body in before he closed them and shook his head once. “Not the right time,” he grumbled to himself. He stalked to the tub, sitting himself on the lip, before testing the waters with one thick finger. It was seemingly up to his standards and he shut the water off. He collected a washcloth, soap, shampoo, and conditioner before he lowered himself into the hot water. A little groan escaped his throat, neck bared as it fell back. There was a firm muscle in his jaw that relaxed as he sunk into the hot water. Steam filled the bathroom, the mirror foggy. It made him look like something from the cover of a romance novel, too handsome and otherworldly to be real. He propped one wet arm up on the edge of the tub and I followed a drop of water as it traced down a vein. “You just gonna stand there and stare, princess?”

I shrugged. “Nice to stare at.” I climbed into the tub, settling between his spread legs, melting into his comforting body. I watched as the blood coating my legs and torso swirled into the clear water, tinting it pink. We didn’t speak for several long minutes, the plunk of the dripping faucet the only sound echoing in the room. My thigh ached but the tight muscle started to loosen the longer I soaked. I absently rubbed at it, hoping to work the last of the soreness out, but only managed a wince of pain. His hair tickled my ear as he leaned closer.

“Hurt?” I shook my head. His fingers outlined the injury, touch feather light.

“If it means you keep touching me, then yes.” His chin notched itself between my shoulder and neck. But he kept up his soft touches, his other thick arm curled loosely around my stomach. It seemed like he was intending to let silence fall again. “Why the new nickname?” The question popped out just to give him a reason to keep talking.

“Wade has a new one every time he talks to you, thought I would try. I thought sweetheart would be dull by now. Don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that,” I teased, wet fingers running through his hair. “I figured you would be very old fashioned with your pet names.” I felt his chest rumble with a restrained chuckle. His chest hair tickled at my back. We lapsed into silence again. As it stretched, my mind started to wonder.

The man’s brain splattering across my face.

The crack of the wood seat as the knife drove in deeper.

The creeping numbness in my feet.

The sight of a man walking through my bedroom door.

“Hey,” Logan whispered against my ear, “come back to me.” I shuddered and clutched at his arm, wrapping it tighter around me, nails digging into his flesh. “You’re okay. Take a deep breath for me. Good job,” his big hand rested on my chest, right over my heart. “Deep breath again, okay?” I did as he said. His hand pushed down against me in a comforting press as I breathed out. I took five more inhales before he removed his hand. “You’re safe, sweetheart.”

“I know,” I said, trying to reassure myself. I knew I was. I trusted Logan and Wade with my life. But I felt a confusing mix of vulnerability and numbness. I wanted to cry, to break down at the injustices done upon me. I also wanted to retreat into myself and become nothing but a husk of my former self. Logan gave me a light kiss on the cheek.

“Time to clean you up I think.” I nodded. He was, as always, gentle. He used a plastic cup to spill water down my hair, hand braced along my forehead to stop any from falling into my eyes. He shampooed my hair three times, trying to get every bit of blood out. His fingers massaged into my scalp and I let out satisfied sighs at the feeling.

“You’re good at this.” The last of the shampoo was washed away, sending a cascade of soap down my spine. He pumped a generous amount of conditioner into his hand before spreading it along the ends of my hair. He worked diligently through the knots, never tugging or ripping.

“I’ve had a lot of…” his voice trailed off, seeming uncertain.

“Girlfriends?”

“I was going to say practice.” My lips twitched. “Lean forward.” I drew my knees up and rested my head on them. I heard the squirt of soap a moment before the washcloth touched my back. He rubbed in smooth circles, just the right of pressure applied. Eventually his hand curved over my shoulder and I sunk back against him. He was thorough, scrubbing spots I often passed over quickly. The hollow of my throat, the ditch of my elbows, between each of my fingers, behind my ears. Something hard nudged against my back. I pushed experimentally back against him. He let out a hiss and stilled my hips with a single hand. “No. Not now, just relax.”

“That usually does help me relax.” His hand disappeared under the cloudy water to scrub at my legs. I sat up suddenly and spun, a small wave of water spilling out of the side of the tub. My legs braced themselves on either side of his hips and my hands landed on his shoulders. I caught his hazel eyes flashing down to my breasts where they squished against his chest, before he looked back up at me. “You’re so handsome,” I purred, fingers mapping lines of his face.

“Hey,” his tone was commanding, but not mean, as his hands latched around my wrists. I tried to catch his lips but he was able to avoid me.

“Distract me,” I plead.

“Not like that.” I struggled a moment longer and then I deflated. My forehead fell, landing against his, eyes shut tight. Self consciousness and shame bit at me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t…I just don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“Don’t have to apologize, princess.” He brushed my damp hair off my shoulders, hand trailing up my pulse point, before rubbing along my cheekbone. “Let’s get you in bed. I know all your emotions are keeping you up, but you’ll crash soon. You don’t have to worry about anything else until you’re ready.” I groaned.

“Shit, I have to call work. That’s assuming I’m not fired for being gone for weeks.” His thumb stopped. He drew back, pinching my chin, forcing our eyes to lock.

“Weeks?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, looking at him with confusion. “Well maybe more, I was trying to count by the sun.” I pointed at the ceiling to convey the sunroof. He blinked, brows knitted together. “What?”

“You were only gone for about half a day. Wade started panicking when you didn’t text him that you made it home.” My mind spun. “We would’ve never let you be taken that long.”

“So, what, it was some illusion?” The water had grown tepid. My thumb nail broke easily when I began biting it after it’s prolonged soak. The fact I could track my days was one of my saving graces. It kept my mind anchored to reality as I sat, bleeding out. But it was all a lie. Why? Logan tugged at my wrist, taking the nail away from me, giving the abused finger a kiss.

“That woman,” Logan hummed, voice slow as he thought. “She was a mutant. I think she could fuck with time or make us feel like she did. Wade said it felt weird right before he killed her, like he was moving too slow.” That would explain all the odd inconsistencies. The woman standing outside the door for weeks. Bleeding out for days without dying. Never feeling hungry or needing to use the bathroom.

“Why? Why would they do that to…ah.”

“What?” He was back to watching me like I was half feral, like I would attack him. It was a heartbreaking combination of weariness and open affection.

“The man told me that,” my voice stuttered. His touch was light as it moved down my back, disappearing under the water to my waist. “He said that you guys wouldn’t-“ I hated that my eyes now decided to sting. That I was breaking at this, about him.

“Don’t have to say anything sweetheart.” I shook my head, wet hair sticking to my shoulders. I curled my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, playing with the strands that had curled from the hot water.

“He said you guys didn’t,” I glanced down, looking at his chest instead, connecting the splatter of moles along his skin. “That you guys didn’t care or want me around anymore. That’s why you were taking so long.” He growled, the sound reverberating through the water.

“He’s wrong.” He aimed to reassure, but it was rough around the edges, anger tearing at the corners. It was very Logan. “We want you around as long as you’ll have us.” That mounting anxiety inside me began to dissipate. “Listen,” he squeezed my waist for extra emphasis, “don’t think of that waste of space. He deserved everything that happened to him and more. Everything he ever said to you was a fucking lie.” I nodded and leaned in for a kiss but paused.

“Just one.” Logan hesitated. “I promise I’ll be gentle.” He grinned and my heart stuttered at the sight. A true Logan grin was like spotting a shooting star, quick and stunning.

“I remember what your last kiss was like, I’m not sure I’ll survive it again. Having you against me has been enough torture.” Pride made me smile at him.

“Later then?” He nodded but gave me a quick peck anyways. I didn’t rush after him.

“Yeah,” he agreed. He cleared his throat. “I promise, I’ll take care of you, do whatever you need, give you anything I can.” My heartbeat stumbled and I blinked back a wave of tears. “I’m sorry I haven’t always been there for you.” His fingers danced along my shoulders. The action felt a little shy, nervous even. But his gaze never left mine. “But I,” his voice died for a moment. He cleared his throat again. “But I don’t want to let you go, not anymore.” I opened my mouth, ready to say he already had me, that I was never going anywhere, but he covered it with his wet hand. “Don’t say anything sweetheart. Just let me help you.” Reluctantly, I nodded.

He washed the long forgotten conditioner out of my hair before he rose from the bath. I nearly drooled at the sight of his thighs, thick with muscles and covered in a dusting of dark hair. I tried to avoid looking at his dick, it would only rile me up, but I caught a brief sight of it anyways as he stepped from the tub. The tip was a dusky pink and it looked wide. He padded over to my towel rack and grabbed one for each of us. He kept his back, and perfect bubble butt, to me as he dried himself off. While he did, I pulled the stopper from the drain and let the dirty water swirl away. He wrapped the towel around his waist before he turned back to me.

Logan carefully guided me out of the bath, both hands gripping my arms. Being back on my feet reminded me of the wound on my leg and I grimaced at the tremble that went through it. “Need some of the pills?” I shook my head. I was tempted to look at the injury but my empty stomach lurched at the idea.

“No,” he squeezed the towel over my wet hair, “the water just felt nice. Gravity is a bitch.” Logan chuckled but still looked worried. When my hair was only slightly damp, he moved to the rest of my body. I let him rub me down, giggling as he found ticklish spots in his thorough work. Occasionally his lips would ghost over where he had just wiped, my knee, my hip, the rib nearest my breast. They were always light and fleeting, but I relished them nonetheless.

Once I was thoroughly dry, he hung my towel back up. He caught my shoulders before I left the bathroom. “Don’t panic, Wade’s been back for about thirty minutes.” I quirked an eyebrow.

“And he’s just been sitting there? Without saying anything?”

“Trust me it’s been hard! Just like me honestly.” Logan sighed, eyes flicking to the ceiling, asking anything that would listen for patience. But I smiled and walked into my short hallway and found Wade sitting on my couch. He was surrounded by an obscene amount of bags. He had changed into a pair of X-Men branded pajama bottoms. When Wade saw me, completely naked, haloed by the dawn light, he made a strangled noise. “Holy fuck, oh my god, shit.” He glanced down at his cock, which was indeed very hard, tenting in a comical way. It gave a noticeable twitch.

“Calm down bub,” Logan growled, skirting around me to reach Wade and the bags. He glowered down at the other man’s pants. “She’s going to sleep and you,” he punched Wade’s arm for emphasis, “are gonna leave her alone.” Wade whined, head thumping against the back of the couch. Logan opened a bag, fishing out a shirt and boxers, along with a toothbrush. He dropped his towel, not caring that the blinds in the living room were wide open. Both me and Wade tilted our heads, gaze skating over Logan’s exposed body before he covered it with his underwear. He picked the towel up and went to put it back in the bathroom. He handed me the shirt, “don’t get brains on this one.”

As I took the worn shirt, he turned, but I stopped him with a hand to his cheek. “Thank you.” His hazel eyes nearly glittered in the rising sun’s rays. I gave him a kiss, just on the heavy side of chaste, but not what either of us craved. I drew back first and left him lingering, eyes half closed. I turned on my heel and into my bedroom. As I was picking up a fresh pair of underwear, I spotted Wade coming into my room as well. The faucet in the sink began to run. Exhaustion was finally starting to prickle at me and I yawned so hard my jaw popped.

“You’re so tired, let me help you.” Wade tugged the underwear from me before falling to his knees. He stared unabashedly at my pussy. I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself. I was sure to give him a show, stepping into the stretched underwear one leg at a time, spreading myself open more than needed, my hand planted on his head for balance. He was slow to move it up my body, rising into increasingly hunched positions to keep the underwear level with his eyes. He left them down to reveal just a bit of myself to him. He leaned forward, a little point of pink exposed between his lips.

Logan’s hand clamped around his neck, hoisting him straight, like a mama cat with her misbehaving kitten. “So bad at following directions. Go brush your teeth, asshole.”

“Yes daddy.” Logan grunted in response. “You sound much scarier all growly like that. Much hotter too.” Wade dodged Logan’s fist as it swung toward him. He scampered away, winking, before the bathroom door shut.

“Insufferable.” Logan scanned me and I hastily tugged the shirt over my torso. “Good girl, now get into bed.” I blushed but did as he said. Before I collapsed down, I snagged a hair tie and brought my still damp hair up into a haphazard bun. It would be a complete knot when I woke up, whenever that would be, but I just needed it out of my way. Logan climbed after me, the bed frame groaning under his weight. Movement outside my window caught my eyes. It was just a bird fluttering by but a sudden spike of fear rushed through me. There was a clear handprint on the pane of glass. Logan, perhaps hearing my heart rate increase, followed my gaze. “It’s okay,” he mumbled, going to my window to shut the blinds. The room dimmed, the blinds cutting off the bright morning light. “No one will be able to get in here without Wade or me knowing.”

“I know,” I sighed, curling under my sheets. The bed creaked again as Logan joined me. His arms were like steel rods as they latched around me, drawing me flush against his firm body. He tucked his forehead against the nape of my neck and his breath tickled at the hair dangling there. His breathing was slow and even. My eyes drifted shut, chest synching with his. As if from down a long hallway, I heard Wade make some comment about how cute we looked. Logan’s chest rumbled in response.

The first thing I felt when consciousness finally reached me was bumpy skin against my nose. I buried my face deeper into Wade’s chest, shifting my stiff legs to feel that ours had tangled together. My thigh twinged at the motion. “Good morning, my lovely sleeping beauty. Never thought you would wake up, thought I would have to do it with true loves fuck.” A sleepy grin tugged at my lips.

“It’s true loves kiss, Wade,” I croaked, my throat scratchy. I must have been snoring. Cute.

“Not in the movies I watch.” I rolled to my back, stretching my body with a series of cracks and groans. Wade watched me with a hungry glint in his eyes, following Logan’s shirt drifting over my underwear and showing a sliver of stomach. I glanced at the window. With the blinds shut I wasn’t able to tell the time well, but judging by the burnt orange rays leaking through, it was either dusk or dawn.

“What time is it?” I reached for my phone on its usual spot on my bedside table before I remembered it had been taken with me. It was probably on some long forgotten table or smashed to pieces in a fight.

“It’s,” his phone flashed, “seven at night.” I scrubbed the lingering sleep from my eyes.

“Where’s Logan?” He wasn’t in the bed and I couldn’t hear any noise from the rest of the apartment.

“He went to get food. According to him, you don’t eat enough protein.” I shrugged, stretching my hips open, face scrunching at the ache. My hands went to my thigh, kneading at the skin. Wade twisted, kneeling between my spread legs. His pajamas were low, the edges of his hip bones peaking above the waist band. The dim light danced across his stomach and my eyes followed along the ridges of his abs. “You have lotion?”

“What?” I asked, half laughing, the question taking me off guard. A full giggle bubbled up inside me as his hands coasted along the crease of my thighs, fingertips catching under the elastic of my underwear.

“Well, I can’t give you a good massage if you aren’t all slippery.” His touch drifted up, pushing farther along my hips, revealing more of my skin to him. “I know you have some, don’t get such buttery smooth skin without it.“ I pointed my thumb to my bedside table. He leaned over me, hips flush with mine, as he rifled through the drawer before he snagged the lotion. My arms snaked around his waist, pressing little kisses to his neck and cheeks. “Logan warned me that you would try to seduce me.” I gave a throaty laugh and it only seemed to rile him up, his hips adjusting between mine.

“Do you want me to seduce you?” Wade groaned. His nose knocked against mine as he looked at me.

“No need sweetums, your snoring was as much of a turn on as I needed.” I rolled my eyes, pushing his chest back so he was kneeling once again. He grabbed the ankle of my injured leg, bracing my heel against his bare chest.

“You sure know how to charm a girl.” He smirked and popped open the lid of the lotion with his teeth, squirting a generous amount into his hand, rubbing them together to warm the liquid up.

“You’re still here aren’t you? Just can’t get enough of me.” I was going to give some sassy retort, but it was cut off by a surprised moan as Wade’s knuckles dug into my calf. The lotion helped his hands glide over my skin, working through knots with pressure that would have been painful without it. He moved in sweeping half circles, squeezing as he went.

“Shit,” I mumbled, eyes drifting closed. The tips of his fingers worked at the back of my ankle with the last of the lotion. Wade’s hand disappeared before returning to just below my injury, slicked with more lotion. His motions were more controlled, the press lighter, dancing around the bruise. “How bad does it look?” I tried to keep my voice light but there was a faint shake to the words.

“It doesn’t matter how it looks,” Wade responded, fingertips brushing the damaged skin. “How does it feel?” His touch was light and nearly tickled as he doodled idly across it.

“Doesn’t hurt, just feels numb in that spot. I can feel you touching the skin but it doesn’t feel…connected to me, I guess.” Wade hummed thoughtfully, lifting my heel to be over his shoulder, still damp hands going to the joint of my leg and hip, spreading my leg wider for him to massage. I sighed contentedly. “You’ve been holding out on me,” I teased, “should have made you give me back rubs anytime I saw you.”

“Just trying to show you all my skills before you let me fuck your brains out.” I opened my heavy eyes to find him smiling softly down at me. I reached out and he met me halfway, resting his cheek on my offered hand.

“We can add romance to the skill list. Who would have thought.”

“Hey,” Wade nipped my palm, sitting back on his knees. “I can’t do anything nice for Logan without him throwing a fit. So all my hopeless romanticism goes to you.” He lowered my propped up leg carefully before grabbing the other. He added more lotion to his hands.

“Well I’m honored,” my voice tilted into a moan, back arching as he found a particularly sore spot on my calf. His eyes were glued to my torso, my belly button just peeking out from the bottom of Logan’s shirt, nipples hard enough to point under the fabric. His movement mimicked his work on my other leg, knuckles pushing deep into my tight muscles. He was able to be more thorough with this thigh since he didn’t have a bruise to dodge around. I gasped and moaned, being over dramatic just to see the look on his face. As his hands crept farther up my hips, I spread my legs wider, trying to entice him closer.

The lotion faded but his touch didn't, fingers going under my shirt. “You’re quiet.” He nodded, middle finger dipping into my belly button and making me laugh.

“Logan gets like this sometimes.” I cock my head in question. “He gets quiet and will just touch my face. Especially after we get back from jobs. I never really understood it.” He traced up my stomach in soft sweeps, catching the edges of my ribs. “But he’s a grumpy asshole so if I mention he’s doing it, he goes and pouts.” The shirt whispers up my skin as he exposes more of me to him, the bottom curve of my breast visible, and he takes the opportunity to run his thumbs along the sensitive skin. “I get it now though.” I wiggled my hips farther down the bed and Wade drew them higher, resting them on his thighs. “I’m not one to talk about my feelings, and if I do, it’s usually in ways that make people think I’m deranged.”

“Well you are,” I teased. He pressed feather light kisses to my knees before throwing them over his shoulders.

“But you love that about me, right?”

“Ooh, throwing around the big L huh?” Wade grinned.

“Why shouldn’t I? Life is short.”

“Mine is, you and Logan will live forever, won’t you?” I reached up, mapping his face.

“Logan will outlive the sun on pure spite. Who knows for me,” he inched my shirt over my chest, exposing myself completely to him. “I haven’t always been like this. I used to have to worry about my life. It always felt like I saw one wrong step away from dying. I used to be way more reckless.” I raised an eyebrow and he chuckled. He tested the lengths of his healing factor beyond recklessness. “Let’s not point out my flaws while I’m trying to be sweet and open. I at least am guaranteed to live when I do dumb shit now.” I held up my hands in surrender and they moved to his forearms instead. “Even then I didn’t see a point in being guarded and ‘reasonable’. If I loved someone, I loved them.” I swallowed and I knew my cheeks were dusted with pink. “When you were taken, I realized I hadn’t told you. I don’t expect you to say it back but I just want you to know.” He circled my nipples, drawing them to peaks, and a soft sound caught in my chest. “Just think about it, yeah?”

“I don’t need to,” I mumbled, pushing my chest into his hands. Wade’s mouth opened just as the apartment door was shoved open. My body goes tense for a moment, expecting an intruder, but Wade gave a playful tug on my exposed nipples.

“Just the old man,” he reassured. I could hear the crinkle of paper bags being placed on my counter, the clink of my keys as he dropped them into my purse, then the light padding of Logan’s feet on the hardwood.

“I see you’re awake,” Logan said. He strode to where Wade and I were tangled, leaning down to give me a brief kiss, his leather jacket creaking as he did. “You’re a nice sight to come home to.” I preened under the compliment. Wade tugs the shirt back over my chest with an overly jealous huff.

“Am I not nice to come home to? And where is my loving smooch?” Logan rolls his eyes but gives in, grabbing Wade’s chin with a harsh grip and giving him a rough kiss. But Logan draws back before Wade wants him to and he chuckles at Wade’s pout. “You’re so mean to me.” Logan shakes his head, straightening, his arms crossing.

“Uh huh. If you excuse me, I’m going to make us dinner since you,” he points an accusing finger at Wade, “would set the place on fire.” Logan, as if he couldn’t help himself, gave me another peck on the forehead. “Do you need anything princess?”

“Well for one, keep Wade out of the kitchen. I don’t have renters insurance.” Logan clicked his tongue, heading back out the bedroom.

“You need that, especially if you’re keeping us around.” Logan disappeared around the corner. I slid my legs off Wade’s shoulders, sitting up to kiss his nose.

“I’m going to go out by him, see if he needs any help.”

“Yeah, okay, are you sure you don’t just want to stare at his big bulging muscles?”

“That’s just a bonus."

Wade signed dramatically. “I suppose I’ll come with you, can’t let him hog all your attention.”

“I have to go to the bathroom first.” I swung my legs over the edge of the bed but paused. Wade slid off, offering his hands to me. I wanted to refuse, to try and do it myself, but I was afraid of my leg giving out from under me, so I allowed him to help me up. There was a dull throb but no stabs of pain or awful trembles. I appreciated that Wade let me lean on him and walk myself. I felt weak as is. These two men could heal from anything and didn’t seem to feel, or care about, pain and I was nearly debilitated by a thigh wound.

“Can I come with you?” I walked on my stiff leg into the bathroom, flicking the light on.

“No Wade, I can pee by myself.”

“Aw come on, I can hold your hand.” I shook my head, closing the door on him. I took in my appearance reflected back at me in the mirror over my sink. I looked like a mess. There were lines from my pillow pressed into my cheek and my hair was sticking in every direction. I swallowed.

I knew I needed to look, to get the anxiety out of the way.

I nearly gagged at the sight of my thigh. The spot, about the size of my spread hand, was deep purple, nearly black. Green and yellow spiderwebbed across the edge. There were broken blood vessels across my entire thigh. I touched it timidly and scrunched my face at the odd numbness. It didn’t hurt to touch, the pain had settled deep into my flesh. The doctor had told me that it would heal from the outside in, so this bruise would be here for a while. The longer I stared, the more I grew to accept it. I had been fucking stabbed and walked away with just this nasty mark. It was the best outcome I could have. I quickly used the toilet and brushed my teeth before exiting to the living room. I found Wade on my couch, tv already switched on, scrolling through my last streaming app. He finally made his decision and I heard the recap of the previous week's Bachelor episode. I had been half way through a rewatch when I was taken.

“Why am I even surprised you are a fan?”

“Where else do you think I got my charm and narcissistic tendencies?”

I found Logan unloading the three overflowing grocery bags into neat groups. There were packages of meat, fresh fruits and vegetables, cookies, and of course, a six pack of beer.

“No, no, sit down.” He hadn’t even looked up. I ignored him, limping closer. My hands traveled under his jacket, wrapping around his waist, laying my head between his shoulder blades. The leather was soft against my cheek, well worn and well loved. He stilled, one hand encompassing my overlapped wrists. “I don’t need your help.”

“Perfect,” I hummed, “I wasn’t offering it. Just stand there and let me hug you.” I wanted to crawl under his jacket, to be completely flush with him, to pin him close. A blissful moment passed.

“Your leg is shaking.”

“I know.”

“Then go sit down.” I lightly head butted his back.

“Stop being bossy.”

“Stop being stubborn.” He turned in my arms, pinning me in place with an exasperated expression. He traced my face with his rough fingers, lingering on the bruises still on my cheek. Then he sighed, resigned.

“Fine, you can stay over here. But I can’t have you latched on to me like a tumor. Go lean somewhere.” I knew that’s the best I would get. I picked a small section of my counter that would keep me out of Logan’s way. He had clearly inspected my cabinet layout before shopping as he put everything where I would. Eventually he started on dinner: steak, rice, and a salad. Wade was completely enthralled by the Bachelor, shouting dating advice at the tv to try and save the bachelor from his many mistakes. I watched Logan chop vegetables with rapt attention. He had shrugged off his leather jacket, leaving him just in a tight t-shirt. Everytime his hand flexed over the knife or as he grabbed a pan, the prominent veins popped under his skin. I felt like I could watch him for hours.

He drifted nearer to my perch, grabbing a beer from my fridge. I stuck my foot out to catch his thigh and guide him closer. Once I was able, I hooked my fingers through his belt loops, wedging his body between my spread legs. He took a large gulp of his beer before it clinked against the counter, his hands braced on either side of my hips. I could smell the lingering smoke of his cigar, the barest hint of a cologne. “Need something princess?” I bit my lip as I smirked.

“Can I ask for that kiss now?” His thumb tugged my lip free of my teeth. I sucked it into my mouth, tongue brushing against the tip. A tiny moan caught in his throat. Just the sound, knowing I made the stoic man weak, shot heat through my veins.

I drop his thumb and grab the neckline of his shirt, drawing him closer so our lips could connect. For a moment my stomach drops as he stays still against me. He exhaled, breath coasting across my face. Then he’s kissing back. It’s slow, long languid strokes against each other. His hand caressed the side of my neck, thumb against my pulse point, his calloused palm a pleasant scrape. There’s no rush, no desperation like before in the bathroom with Wade. That tension, his resistance to me wanting him, has seemingly evaporated. I plucked his shirt from his jeans, hands exploring his torso, tracing the lines and ridges there. His head tipped to the side and mine mirrored it. His tongue stroked against my lip, begging entrance, which I freely gave. The wheaty tang of beer is heavy on him and it never tasted so good. I wanted to sink into this feeling, this pleasant hum of contentedness, but his mouth moved too soon from mine. It traveled across my cheek, along my jaw, before hoovering over my ear.

“You can get the rest of your kisses later, okay sweetheart?” I whined in frustration. “Do you want to eat burnt food?” He pressed one last kiss to my cheek before extricating himself from me. I wanted to draw him back, say fuck it to the food. But I just sighed.

“Fine.” He grinned. He flipped the steaks, checking under the pot lid at the status of the rice. Well, at least I get to watch those hands again. Of course, I rarely ever get what I want. The food was done too quickly and despite my stomach feeling like it was about to eat itself, I mourned watching him. I accepted my plate gratefully, pressing my lips to his in thanks. My steak was cut into thin strips, perfectly done, while his and Wade’s were still whole. I noticed a lack of a knives on their plates as we went to the living room.

“Not Victoria!” Wade cried, flopping back on the couch in defeat. I nestled next to him, plate balanced precariously on my knee. Logan, realizing we all wouldn’t fit on my tiny couch, sat on the floor in front of me, his wide back against my shins. To my horror, and amusement, both of them picked their steaks up with their hands and ripped into them. I watched a trail of juice run down Wade’s chin. He turned and smiled. “He’s rubbed off on me,” he nudged Logan’s shoulder with his knee. “He gets a hunk of meat in front of him and he just has to rip into it. When he first saw my ass, he tore a chunk out.”

“I did not.” Logan grumbled. “I just bit you, it’s not my problem your skin is thin.” Wade shook his head in exasperation.

“He loves downplaying his accomplishments.” I hummed, mouth still full of food. Logan was a great cook, the steak practically melted in my mouth.

“If I’m between you two, could we keep the stabbing and biting to a minimum? I’d rather not have to buy new sheets all the time because you two keep ruining them.”

“Aw,” Wade cooed, his breath ghosting across my cheek. “Come on baby, you already stabbed me once. Don’t you want to do it again?” I spun to face him.

“No,” my voice was louder than intended from shock, “didn’t it hurt?” Wade shrugged.

“Yeah, of course it did. But if your wet pussy is around my dick, the pain doesn’t matter. Probably just make me come harder.” My face was hot and I squirmed. He changed in the most attractive way when he spoke about sex. A look of brazen confidence came over him, his voice smug.

It turned me on.

The idea of injuring him was unappealing and sent a wave of fear over me. But if it was something he would want… “I don't even need a super sniffer to know you want to try it out. I promise I fuck so much harder when knives are involved.”

“Wade,” Logan warned.

“Doesn’t she smell good? Good enough to eat huh?” My thighs squeezed together and I swallowed. Wade was leaning in closer, like a spring about to snap. Logan’s hand shot up, gripping the other man’s chin, and yanked him to face the tv.

“Leave her alone. Don’t make me put my claws through your head.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time. You know your claws just make me even more sensitive.” Logan slapped Wade’s cheek, not hard enough to injure, just enough to make a crack. Wade groaned but settled back into the couch, giving Logan’s hair a little tug. We finished dinner in relative silence, Logan and I were quiet while Wade continued his narration, critiquing everything from the fashion to the date ideas. With Wade’s attention off me, the sudden flash of arousal faded, but not totally.

Once our plates were clean, I grabbed them before Logan could even attempt to move. “Hey, let me do that,” he grumbled, trying to grab my shirt to stop me. I evade his hand with a giggle. I run the dirty dishes under the faucet, putting them, along with the pots and pans Logan used to cook, in the dishwasher. “You should go and sit back down. Let me take care of it.”

“Jesus!” I yelped, the edge of the knife I had been handwashing catching the tip of my finger. “Need to put a bell on you,” I murmured, letting the warm water from the faucet run over the cut. It wasn’t deep but stung like a paper cut. Logan removed my finger, examining the injury. A thin line of blood oozed from it. “It’s okay, just needs a bandaid. Should have seen it after I got a mandolin.” He grunts, kissing the cut, before letting my hand fall. I flicked the water off.

“Have you taken anything yet?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t hurt Logan, just aches.” He drifted closer, our bodies flush to each other, my hips bumping the counter.

“I’d much rather you take it now,” he nearly purrs, gruff voice tender. “That way it won’t hurt later.” His hands caged me in.

“I think you just like telling me what to do.”

Logan shrugged, “one of you two needs to listen to me.” I hummed, considering, arms wrapping around his neck.

“Fine, you win.” It looked like he was going to pull away but my arms tightened in warning. “For being so nice and following your orders, I want another kiss.” He huffed a laugh.

“Are we using them are bargaining chips now?”

“Yes, you’re the one who keeps saying I’ll get more later. So I’m asking for at least one now.”

“Okay princess, you get whatever you want.” He gently removed my arms, grabbing me a glass of water, as well as the bottle of painkillers. “Here,” he plucked one of the little pills out, holding it for me. I open my mouth in response, tongue out. “You and Wade,” he grumbled, “always trying to tease me.” His fingers graze my tongue as he puts the pill on it. “Now drink,” the command in his voice made my skin prickle. I take the glass dutifully, swallowing the pill down, making a satisfied ah noise once I was done. “Here’s your reward.” The kiss was so brief I thought I had imagined it.

“Hey,” I growled, “don’t be mean.” Logan was smug as he brushed some loose hair from my face. “Fine,” I wiggled from between his arms, heading back to the living room. “I’ll go ask Wade for some.”

“Oooh smoochie time!”

350 notes · View notes

rosemariiaa · 3 months ago

Text

~Lines We Drew~

part: 4

pairing- Paige x Azzi

a/n: im done procrastinating , sorry for the long wait don’t be angry yk ily, next part will be longer!💌

themes: fluff, teasing,drinking

Enjoy!!!

Paige groaned, waking up to a quiet apartment. The sunlight peeked through her curtains, way too bright for this early in the morning. Rubbing her eyes, she slid out of bed, her legs heavy as she padded toward the bathroom. But as she cracked her door open, she froze.

Azzi was already awake. She was curled up on the couch, oversized Georgetown shirt falling slightly off her shoulder, her pink glasses perched on her nose as she typed on her laptop. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun, but somehow, it looked like she’d spent hours perfecting it. Paige blinked, forgetting what she was supposed to be doing as she leaned against the doorframe, just… watching her.

God, how was someone allowed to look that good so early?

Azzi glanced up and caught Paige staring. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “You’re up early,” she teased, her voice soft but playful. “Enjoying the view or something?”

Paige almost choked. “Wha—no!” Her cheeks burned as she scrambled for an excuse. “I… I was just… bathroom!” She pointed awkwardly toward the bathroom door, clearly flustered. Azzi let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Right. Sure, Bueckers.”

Paige darted into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with a groan. She pressed her forehead against the cool surface of the mirror, trying to collect herself. “Get it together,” she muttered under her breath, but the smile creeping onto her face gave her away.

When Paige finally came out of the bathroom, Azzi was still there, but now, her eyes flicked up again, a mischievous look in them that made Paige’s stomach flip.

“Back for more?” Azzi teased, biting her lip.

Paige rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Maybe. Got something to show off?” She leaned on the counter, trying not to make it obvious how close they were standing. Azzi shrugged, leaning back and letting her eyes wander just a little. “Maybe I do.” Her voice dropped, and Paige felt her throat go dry. The room suddenly felt too small, the air too thick.

Paige let out a nervous laugh, shaking her head. “Okay, okay, stop.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I won’t survive breakfast if you keep this up.”

———-

I watched Paige retreat to the kitchen, trying not to laugh out loud. It’s honestly too easy to get under her skin. Seeing her blush like that? Kind of addictive, not gonna lie.

I stretched out on the couch, adjusting my glasses and pretending to focus back on my laptop. But, honestly, my mind kept drifting to her. That look she gave me earlier… softer than usual, almost like she was letting her guard down for a second. Not that she’d admit it.

“Can’t believe she’s still so easy to fluster,” I muttered under my breath, smirking at the thought. But there was something else going on here, something I didn’t expect. The teasing between us—it felt comfortable, natural. Like we’d been doing this forever. It’s not like we’re best friends or anything, well atleast not anymore.., but there’s a rhythm to it.

The real question is… why do I like it so much? Why do I care about her reaction? It’s just Paige, right?

————

The team slowly trickled back into Paige’s apartment. It was their day off, a chance to unwind before the big game against Villanova. Caroline was already in the kitchen with Paige, rummaging through the fridge, trying to decide on breakfast.

“I’m thinking pancakes,” Caroline said, glancing over her shoulder. Paige was at the stove, absently flipping a pancake while her mind wandered back to Azzi. The conversation from earlier still played in her head, like a loop she couldn’t turn off.

Just as Paige started getting into the flow of breakfast, Azzi walked in. The tension hit instantly. Paige noticed Azzi before she even spoke—there was just something about her presence that made the room feel different. Azzi walked over to the counter, carrying a bowl of cereal. “Mind if I crash the breakfast party?” she asked, her voice light but teasing.

Caroline, catching onto the shift in the air, grinned. “Sure, join the chaos.”

Azzi slipped into the kitchen beside Paige, and despite the casual vibe, the air between them felt charged. Too close. Paige reached for a spoon at the same time Azzi did, their fingers brushing together.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Careful, Bueckers. You might burn something.”

Paige rolled her eyes, trying to hide the heat crawling up her neck. “Please. You’re the one eating cereal for breakfast. Not exactly a pro move.” Azzi laughed quietly, leaning a little closer. “Cereal’s a classic. You just wish you could be as cool as me.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” Paige shot back, but her voice was softer than usual, the tension thick in the air between them.

Just then, Nika barged into the kitchen, breaking the moment. “Yo! Are we eating today or next week? Come on, I’m starving!”

Paige quickly pulled her hand away, her heart still racing as she turned her attention back to the stove. Azzi stepped back too, her smirk lingering as she headed back to the couch.

———-

Azzi’s POV

After breakfast and too many tiktok’s , we all gathered in the living room, lounging around on the couches. The conversation had drifted from stupid jokes to more random topics when KK suddenly leaned forward, her eyes lighting up like she had the best idea.

“You know what we should do tonight?” she said, her voice dripping with mischief per usual. “What’s that?” Aubrey asked, already sounding suspicious.

KK shot a grin at Caroline before looking at the rest of us. “Truth or drink.”

A chorus of groans and laughs filled the room. Caroline clapped her hands together, immediately on board. “Ooh, it’s been a minute since we did that!” Aubrey sighed dramatically. “Here we go. This is how secrets come out.”

“Exactly!” KK smirked. “Perfect game for a night like this.”

I shifted uncomfortably, my mind already racing at the thought. Truth or drink could get really intense, especially with this group. The idea of Paige and I being in the same room, having to answer personal questions, made my stomach flip. “Are we seriously doing this?” “Of course we are,” KK said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Caroline leaned in closer to me, her smile mischievous. “This could be very interesting.” I rolled my eyes, trying to shake off the unease. “I swear, you guys are gonna get someone in trouble.” Nika, who had been quietly observing, nodded her head in agreement. “I’m in. This could be good.”

Paige, lounging casually on the other side of the room, gave a small shrug, but her eyes gleamed with amusement. “Sounds fun.” Ice grinned, rubbing her hands together. “Alright, we’re doing this. Let’s get the drinks.”

Nika, Paige, and Ice quickly stood up, already making plans to head out and grab some liquor for the game. “We’ll be back in a bit,” Nika called over her shoulder as they made their way out the door.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Caroline turned to me with a grin. “Sooo… about earlier.”

I narrowed my eyes, knowing exactly where this was going. “Don’t even start.”

KK laughed, pointing a finger at me. “Oh, come on! The closeness between you and P? The spoons? That was definitely something, can’t deny it .”

I could feel my cheeks heating up. “It was nothing. You guys are just making it weird.”

Aubrey joined in, her voice full of amusement. “Sure, it was nothing. Totally normal to stand that close and brush hands twice.” Caroline nudged me, her teasing relentless. “You were all flustered. Admit it.”

I bit my lip, trying to stay calm, but I could feel the warmth creeping up my neck. “Okay, yeah, maybe it was… a little awkward.”

The girls burst out laughing, and Caroline shook her head. “A little? You were practically red, Azzi.” I crossed my arms, trying to act unfazed. “Whatever. Let’s just wait for the girl to come back and get this game over with.”

Before I could even try to explain away the moment in the kitchen, the front door swung open, and in walked Nika, Paige, and Ice. Nika came in first, waving a bottle of tequila like it was some kind of trophy. “Alright, ladies! Time to get this party started,” she said, dropping the bottle onto the table.

Ice followed behind with a mischievous grin, carrying a couple more bottles of vodka and whiskey, while Paige sauntered in last, a little smirk on her face. She held up a few shot glasses, clinking them together like she was setting the mood for something wild. My heart did a weird flip when our eyes met, but I quickly looked away.

“Hope you’re ready for some real fun,” Ice teased, setting everything down. “Truth or drink is about to get serious.” “Yeah, right,” Caroline shot back. “Azzi’s already squirming over here.” KK snorted, leaning over to nudge me. “She’s just scared we’re gonna find out something juicy.”

I tried to play it cool, leaning back in my seat. “Please, I’m not scared of you guys.”

But the way Caroline and KK exchanged looks, I knew I was in for it. “We’ll see about that,” Caroline said with a wink, which only made me more flustered.

“Let’s get this started then!” Nika poured out the first round of shots, setting them in front of everyone. “Azzi, you’re up first. Truth or drink?”

I paused, knowing whatever I chose was going to put me in a tough spot. “Truth,” I answered, maybe a little too confidently. KK wasted no time, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Alright, Azzi. Have you ever had a… steamy dream about anyone you know, recently?”

My heart skipped a beat. What kind of question is that?

The room went silent, and I felt all eyes on me. My throat tightened, and I could feel my cheeks burning. I tried to play it off, looking anywhere but at Paige, who was watching me like she was waiting for something.

“I plead the fifth,” I muttered quickly, reaching for my shot and throwing it back in one go. The alcohol burned on the way down, but it was nothing compared to the heat crawling up my neck.

The girls burst into laughter, Caroline nearly falling off the couch. “Wow, that was fast!” “Now we know you’re hiding something,” Ice teased, and even Aubrey, who was usually quieter, was giggling at my expense.

Paige, on the other hand, just smirked. “Interesting choice, Azzi.” I shot her a look, trying not to give anything away, but the way she was looking at me made it hard to focus.

The game continued, moving through some fun but uncomfortable questions, like when Ice admitted to making out with someone in the closet during a team event, or when Nika confessed to sending a nasty text to the wrong person while drunk . By the time the bottle swung back around to me, I had managed to mostly stay under the radar—until Paige leaned forward, her gaze fixed on me.

“Alright, Azzi. Truth or drink?” Paige’s voice was low, calm, but there was something playful about the way she said it. I already knew whatever was coming wouldn’t be easy.

“Truth,” I answered, despite the knot forming in my stomach.

Paige’s lips curved into that sly smile of hers. “If you had to kiss someone in this room tonight… who would it be?”

The air practically crackled with tension. Everyone’s eyes were on me again, but this time, it felt more intense. Of course, she would ask that. I blinked, my mouth going dry. I could feel my heart pounding, and it wasn’t just from the alcohol. I could either say something that would make this situation ten times worse, or I could chicken out and take another shot.

Without thinking, I grabbed the glass and downed it in one swift motion. The girls broke out in a mix of laughter and teasing groans.

“Come on, Azzi!” Caroline whined. “That’s a cop-out!” KK raised her eyebrows. “So someone in here’s got you twisted, huh?”

I just shook my head, my cheeks burning as I avoided Paige’s eyes. I could feel her staring, though, the weight of it making it hard to breathe. I was not about to let them drag me into whatever they were trying to start, not tonight.

———-

Paige’s POV

Azzi couldn’t even look at me after that.

Her quick little shot answer had the room buzzing, but all I could think about was how she refused to answer me directly. She could’ve picked anyone… but she didn’t.

I leaned back, trying to keep my cool, even though the teasing from the other girls was only getting louder. Nika was giving Ice some grief about her last answer, and Aubrey had retreated into the kitchen to grab snacks, but my focus stayed on Azzi.

She was sitting on the other side of the room, her cheeks still pink, trying to laugh along with everyone else. She looked so different from the Azzi I knew years go. The Azzi I knew on the court—more vulnerable, more… open. And it was throwing me off. I could feel this weird pull between us, something I couldn’t quite explain. But I didn’t hate it.

“You alright over there, Bueckers?” Ice asked, breaking me out of my thoughts. “You’ve been real quiet.” I shrugged, reaching for my drink. “Just enjoying the show.”

Ice laughed, rolling her eyes. “Whatever you say. You’re next, by the way.”

I smirked, setting down my glass. “Bring it on.”

Nika leaned forward, rubbing her hands together like she was about to deliver the final blow. “Alright, Paige. Truth or drink?”

“Truth.” No hesitation.

“Fine,” Nika grinned. “Who’s the last person you thought about kissing?”

The girls gasped, and I felt my stomach flip. I knew this game was supposed to be fun, but Nika’s question hit a little too close to home. My mind immediately went to Azzi—our moment in the kitchen, her teasing smile, the way she brushed me off when I was staring at her.

I bit the inside of my cheek, knowing I had to answer. “I’m not taking the shot,” I said, giving her a look that said don’t push it.

Nika raised her hands in surrender. “Alright, fair enough.”

Azzi shifted in her seat, and for a split second, our eyes met. There it was again—that unspoken thing between us, the tension, the heat. I couldn’t shake it, even if I wanted to.

———-

Azzi’s POV

I was lounging on the couch, sipping my drink and trying to keep my mind from wandering too much—especially not to Paige. But it was hard, especially with the way she’d been looking at me lately. Things felt… different. I wasn’t sure what had changed, but I knew something had.

Aubrey, who had been sitting next to me most of the night, nudged me gently. “So… you and P?”

I blinked, caught completely off guard. “What about me and Paige?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but I could feel a slight blush creeping up my neck. She had to be messing with me, right?

Aubrey gave me a little side-eye, clearly amused. “C’mon, Azzi. Don’t play dumb. You two have been all…” She waved her hand, gesturing vaguely between me and Paige. “Weird lately.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to laugh it off, but my heart was racing. “You’re seeing things, Aubrey. There’s nothing going on. Paige is just… being Paige.” “Uh-huh.” Aubrey wasn’t buying it, not even for a second. “So you didn’t feel anything when you two were practically on top of each other in the kitchen earlier?”

I groaned internally. Of course she’d bring that up. I mean, of course I felt something. How could I not? My skin still buzzed from where her fingers brushed mine. But I wasn’t about to admit that, especially not with Paige lurking around. I glanced her way, and yup, there she was, acting like she was stretching or something, but clearly trying to overhear what we were talking about.

“I’m serious,” I muttered, keeping my voice low so Paige wouldn’t hear. “She’s just messing with me. Probably trying to get in my head before the game or something.” Aubrey just smiled knowingly. “Right… Or maybe she’s trying to get into something else,” she said with a wink, making me choke on my drink.

I shot her a look, but before I could come up with a comeback, Paige wandered over, not even trying to hide the fact that she was listening. “What are you two whispering about over here?” she asked, sounding way too casual for someone who was clearly dying to know.

“Nothing that concerns you, Bueckers,” Aubrey said, leaning back with a smirk. I could feel Paige’s eyes on me, like she was waiting for me to say something, but I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

Instead, I just shrugged and kept my eyes on my drink. “Yeah, nothing important,” I muttered, trying to act like I wasn’t flustered. But my heart was pounding, and I could still feel Paige’s stare on me as she reluctantly turned and walked away. Aubrey shot me another look and whispered, “Told you.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.

After Paige walked away, Aubrey didn’t waste a second. “Okay, seriously, what’s going on between you two? You’re acting all weird around each other.”

I bit my lip, trying not to look too obvious. “I don’t know, Aubs. It’s complicated. I don’t even think Paige knows what’s going on, and honestly, I’m trying not to overthink it.”

Aubrey looked like she was about to say something else, but then she noticed Paige not-so-subtly standing near the door, trying to act like she wasn’t listening. Aubrey smirked and raised her voice a little, just loud enough for Paige to hear.

“Well, whatever it is, you’re both terrible at hiding it.”

I shot Aubrey a look. “Not helping.”

She shrugged, grinning. “Just saying.”

Paige, still hovering by the door, shot us a glance, like she was debating whether to come over again or not. But then Nika yelled for her from the kitchen, and she finally gave up and walked away, leaving me and Aubrey alone again. “So,” Aubrey said, lowering her voice again. “You gonna tell me how you really feel about her, or are you gonna keep pretending like you’re not totally into her?”

I groaned, sinking deeper into the couch. “I don’t even know, Aubrey. She’s just… she’s Paige. She’s annoying and competitive and always trying to one-up me. And…”

“And?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “And sometimes I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Aubrey’s smirk widened. “There it is.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, but I was smiling. Because deep down, even if I didn’t want to admit it, she was right.

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi fics #rosie’s roses<3

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