#but now I want to get them to the surface if I can so I should see if that changes anything

[validatemylife]

My mom and I are cool now. She loves me. She has always loved me.

She was severely abusive to me in childhood and teen years. Once upon a time she broke my door (I was frantically trying to get dressed after a shower), picked me up (naked) by my neck, spun me around and hucked me into a wall.

My beautiful mother, concerned, saw my self harm scars and asked (gently, worriedly), “what happened?” And I had to tell her (sharp), “you do not get to ask about those.” And then explained to her that, when she found out about my self harm in high school, she mocked them. That she said to me, they aren’t deep enough. She said, no one will take you seriously. And then she (so large in my memory) beat the fuck out of me in the backyard. And after that, I cut them deeper (so deep).

She has never asked again.

She loves me, and wants the best for me, and I could not survive without her support. Truthfully, I could not have survived without her love (and she does love me, as only a mother can). She may know somewhere, deep down, that she is (was, was, was) a monster. I told her, when I cut contact for a year, but I don’t think she can know it on the surface or every day or in her bones the way I know it.

My beautiful mother is so dear to me. I love her, and I dread the day she orphans me by dying (selfish) (soon) (old). But the person I am now is shaped by the fear of the monster that my beautiful dear mother is. Love cannot leach the terror from my memories.

And yet I love her still.

otherwise interesting post ruined by the bold insistence that you can never accidentally abuse someone & that all abusive people are self-aware evil masterminds

[pbaz7]

ONE SHOT: UNSPOKEN

paige x azzi

word count: 10.8k

A/N: Alright this one is a little different from what I usually do. I was struggling with ideas so I decided to try to mix it up 🫣. I also know everyone thinks Paige fell first so I wanted to switch it up a little bit in this. Let me know what you guys think please 🫶🏼

—————————————————————————

“Unspoken” is a story about the quiet tension between two people who’ve spent years running from the truth—because sometimes, love isn’t about grand declarations or perfect timing. Sometimes, it’s about the fights, the moments when words fail, and the painful silence that surrounds all the things we’re too afraid to say.

Paige and Azzi had been best friends for as long as they can remember, but somewhere along the way, things started to change. The friendship they shared slowly morphed into something more complicated, something neither of them was ready to admit. The arguments, the jealousy, the misunderstandings, all became the backdrop for the truth they weren’t brave enough to confront.

This is the story of the moments that broke them down and built them up again—of the words that should have been said and those that should’ve never been spoken, the love that was hidden beneath the surface, and the way they both had to learn to fight for each other. Through every argument, every misstep, and every tear, they would come to realize one simple thing: they were in love with each other, and no amount of fear or uncertainty could change that.

These are the fights, the messy situations, that led them to the one thing they never expected to find—each other:

3rd Person POV - 2018 (DMV)

Azzi was sitting cross-legged on her bed, leaning back against the headboard while Paige lay sprawled on the floor, tossing a basketball in the air and catching it with lazy precision. Soft music was playing from Azzi’s speaker, filling the comfortable silence between them.

“You know,” Azzi said as she absentmindedly scrolled through her phone, “I still don’t get how you eat so much junk and don’t feel like absolute trash afterward.” She was referencing how Paige didn’t seem to follow any diet, didn’t eat any vegetables, and just consumed whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

Paige snorted, keeping her eyes on the ball as she flicked it up again. “I’m built different.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “That’s not a real answer.”

“It is if you accept it.”

Azzi grabbed a pillow and chucked it at her, but it landed nowhere near Paige causing the blonde to laugh while still focused on the ball. “You’re annoying,” Azzi muttered.

“Whatever bro. Why you beg me to come visit you then?”

Azzi sighed dramatically. “Clearly I gotta start setting higher standards for my friends.”

“Best friend,” Paige corrected.

Azzi grinned but didn’t argue. They’d been calling each other best friends since they met on Team USA, but sometimes—more recently than before–there was something underneath it that neither of them acknowledged. A weight in the way they talked to one another on FaceTime every night, the way they never went a day without talking, a different kind of warmth in the way they looked at each other.

In the midst of their conversation Paige’s phone buzzed. Then again. And again. She didn’t even glance at it, but Azzi heard it. “Damn,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Who's blowing you up?”

Paige kept her focus on the ball. “Dunno.”

Azzi smirked. “What, you too famous to check your phone now?”

Paige caught the ball and held it against her stomach, hesitating just long enough for Azzi to pick up on it.

Azzi sat up a little. “Wait. Who is it?”

Paige took a long exhale, staring at the ceiling for a second before mumbling, “It’s probably this girl.”

Azzi blinked. “This girl?”

Paige pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Yeah, prolly. She got my number from somebody and she just been texting me lately.”

Azzi’s lips twitched, her smirk faltering for just a second before she masked it with a laugh. “Ohhh, so Paige Bueckers has a girl on her line.” She nudged Paige’s leg with her foot. “Who is she?”

Paige shrugged. “Just someone I met at a tournament.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And what?”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Do you like her or something?”

Paige shrugged, then sighed. “I don’t know. No?”

Azzi’s expression shifted slightly. The teasing edge in her voice was still there, but it didn’t quite match what was reflected in her eyes. “Wait, you actually want to talk to her?”

Paige frowned a little confused now. “I mean… I don’t not want to.”

Azzi scoffed quietly, shaking her head. “Wow. Okay.”

Paige blinked. “What?”

“Nothing,” Azzi said quickly, a little too quickly. She flopped back against her pillows, suddenly very interested in the ceiling.

Paige wasn’t buying it. “No, what was that?”

“Paige, nothing,” Azzi repeated.

Paige narrowed her eyes. “Azzi come on bro.”

Azzi sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “I just—why are you even telling me this?”

Paige frowned. “Because you’re my best friend? I tell you everything.”

Azzi let out a dry laugh. “Right. Best friend. Got it.”

Something about the way she said it made Paige’s stomach twist. She wasn’t sure why, but suddenly, the room felt… different. Tense. Like they had stepped too close to a line neither of them had ever acknowledged before.

“Why are you acting weird?” Paige asked, her voice a little quieter now.

Azzi shook her head. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

Azzi let out a breath. “Maybe because I just don’t want to hear about some girl trying to get with you.”

Silence. It felt like the silence between them stretched for an eternity.

The air between them was thick with a weight that neither of them had ever experienced when talking to one another. Azzi looked like she had just said something she wasn’t supposed to, and Paige—Paige couldn’t breathe.

“Why do you care?” Paige finally spoke, her voice much quieter than it usually is.

Azzi sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t. It’s just—you always say you don’t like distractions, but now some random girl is blowing up your phone, and you don’t mind?”

Paige frowned. “That’s not what I said Az.”

“It kinda is.”

Paige sat up now, her eyes slightly narrowed because of Azzi’s coldness. “Bro why you acting like I did something wrong? I was just tryna talk to you about it.”

Azzi let out a dry laugh. “Right. Like I want to hear about how some girl who's in the same state as you is into you and has been blowing your phone up.”

Paige’s stomach twisted. She didn’t know why, but the way Azzi was speaking made her chest feel tight. “So, what? I’m just not supposed to talk to you about stuff like this?”

Azzi’s jaw tensed. “No, maybe not.”

Paige blinked. “Azzi that’s ridiculous. We tell each other everything.”

Azzi exhaled through her nose, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah, well, maybe not everything.”

That hit Paige harder than she expected. She stared at Azzi, frustration bubbling under her skin. Azzi was her best friend. The one person in the world she felt like she could share anything with—who understood the pressure she felt everyday, was sitting here telling her that maybe they should stop telling each other everything. “Why are you being so weird about this? I didn’t do anything.”

Azzi’s head moved toward her direction. “I’m not being weird, Paige. I just—” She cut herself off, exhaling before pushing her hair out of her face in frustration. “You don’t get it.”

Paige threw her hands up. “No, I clearly don’t, so explain it to me! Because I feel like I’m missing something here.”

Azzi hesitated, her fingers picking at the blanket. Her expression was unreadable—like she was fighting with herself, torn between saying something and holding it back.

Paige pushed. “Azzi please.”

Azzi’s eyes met hers, and for the first time that night, she looked vulnerable. Exposed.

“You don’t get it,” Azzi said, softer this time, “because you don’t see the way anyone looks at you.” Azzi wasn’t just talking about other people. Paige had always had this pull, this undeniable presence that filled every room she stepped into. The way she carried herself, how naturally charismatic and genuine she was, made it impossible not to look. And people did look.

Azzi was no different. But Paige never seemed to notice.

Paige’s brows furrowed. “What?”

Azzi sighs, shaking her head. “Everyone wants a piece of you, Paige. In whatever way they can get you. Girls, guys, everyone.

Paige swallowed, her confusion giving way to an excitement at the possibility of what Azzi was insinuating. “Azzi…”

Azzi eyes flickering with something Paige couldn’t place. “I don’t want to hear about some girl trying to talk to you because I hate the idea of you talking to someone else.”

Paige’s heart pounded. She felt like the ground had just been ripped out from under her, like something she had been ignoring for months had just been shoved in her face.

She barely had time to process it, to respond properly before Azzi let out a shaky breath and muttered, “Forget it. Just—just ignore me.”

But Paige didn’t want to forget it, she couldn’t. Because suddenly, everything made sense—suddenly she didn’t feel like she was making things up in her head.

The lingering looks. The teasing that always felt a little too real.

Without thinking about the possible repercussions, Paige moved. One second, she was sitting on the floor staring at Azzi, heart racing, and the next, she was in front of her leaning in, closing the space between them.

Azzi inhaled sharply, her lips parting just slightly. For a split second, Azzi looked like she was going to pull away.

But then Paige kissed her.

It was hesitant, completely unsure, but the second their lips touched, something clicked. Like a spark igniting, like the answer to a question neither of them had been willing to ask.

Azzi sucked in a breath, and just for a second she kissed Paige back. But just as quickly as it happened, Azzi pulled away, eyes wide.

When she saw Azzi’s reaction Paige’s heart pounded, immediately throwing out, “I—I don’t know why I did that.”

Azzi swallowed, looking just as lost. “Yeah. Me neither.”

They stared at each other.

Finally, Paige let out a weak laugh. “Let’s just forget it.”

Azzi hesitated before nodding. “Yeah…Forget it.”

3rd Person POV - May 2020 (DMV)

It was the middle of quarantine, and time felt like it barely existed. Days blurred into nights, and the weeks passed without much distinction. Paige had been staying with Azzi and her family for a while now.

They had fallen into an easy rhythm. Workouts in the driveway, endless hours of TV, late-night talks in Azzi’s bed. There were also the moments in between now—those fleeting, stolen seconds where a look lingered too long, where an innocent touch didn’t quite feel so innocent. It had started slowly, almost accidental. A brush of hands, an arm around a shoulder that didn’t move away. Then one night, Paige kissed her again. And Azzi kissed her back.

Since then, it has been happening more often. Just making out here and there, like something they could pick up and drop whenever they wanted. But they never talked about it.

Now, they were lying in Azzi’s bed, bodies tangled in the way that came with knowing each other too well. Azzi’s head rested on Paige’s stomach, her fingers idly tracing the blanket while Paige was trying to spin the ball on her finger, though she was being extra careful considering Azzi was laying on her.

“You suck at that, by the way,” Azzi mumbled, watching the ball wobble slightly in Paige’s grip.

Paige scoffed. “You literally couldn’t do this for more than two seconds without launching it across the room.”

Azzi laughed. “That’s because I actually put some power into it. You’re just throwing it up like you’re scared it’s gonna fight back.”

Paige rolled her eyes. “You’re annoying sometimes, you know that?”

Azzi hummed, tilting her head slightly so she was looking up at Paige. “Yeah, but you love me anyway so I don’t really care.”

Paige froze for half a second before shaking her head, trying to play it off. “Debatable.”

Azzi laughed softly, but Paige didn’t miss the way her fingers stopped moving against the blanket when Paige froze. The pause lasted a little too long, and Paige suddenly felt like she should say something else—something light, something easy—but before she could, her phone buzzed in quick succession from somewhere on the floor.

Azzi turned her head toward the sound. “Damn. Someone’s popular.”

Paige didn’t even glance at it, still looking at Azzi. “It’s nothing.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know who it is.”

Paige shrugged. “If it was important, they’d call.”

Azzi watched her for a second, then turned her attention back to the ceiling. “Right. Or maybe it’s one of the many people who have been blowing up your comments lately.”

All of a sudden this conversation felt like deja vu and it made Paige’s stomach churn.

Paige sighed, rubbing her temple. “Azzi—”

Azzi kept going, her tone meant to be teasing, but there was something more serious beneath it that Paige picked up on. “I mean, I get it. UConn’s gonna be a whole new world for you. New team, new people, new girls—”

Paige groaned. “Bro oh my God.”

Azzi tilted her head again, keeping her voice light but her eyes too focused. “What? You’re telling me you’re not looking forward to all the attention you’re about to get?”

Paige sighed, gripping the basketball a little tighter. “I don’t care about allat.”

Azzi scoffed, shaking her head. “Bullshit.”

Paige frowned. “I don’t.”

Azzi changed her position slightly, resting her weight on her elbow as she looked at Paige. “So you’re telling me you don’t like all the attention? The DMs, the comments, the girls who’ve never met you throwing themselves at you?”

Paige let out a short laugh, not out of amusement but frustration. “Azzi, come on—”

“No, seriously.” Azzi’s voice was steady, but there was something underneath it—something Paige couldn’t quite place. “You’re not gonna sit here and act like you don’t eat that shit up.”

Paige gave her a confused look. “You act like I’m out here entertaining them. I’ve never responded to any of them.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You’re not shutting them down either, so you clearly want it.”

Paige let out a long breath, shaking her head. “Come on Azzi, you’re my best friend, you know me better than that.”

Azzi scoffed, sitting up fully now, her back against the headboard. “Right.”

Paige’s jaw tightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Azzi looked at her. “It means I don’t know what the hell we’re doing anymore.”

Paige sat up fully too, the ball rolling off the bed as she turned to face Azzi. “What you mean?”

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

Paige’s chest tightened, frustration building. “Get what? That you’re mad at me for something I didn’t even do? Something you think I might do?”

Azzi shook her head, running a hand through her hair. “I’m not mad at you, Paige. I just—” She exhaled. “Forget it.”

“No.” Paige’s voice was more firm now, her heartbeat picking up. “You don’t get to start something and then back out.”

Azzi’s eyes flickered with anger. “Oh, I’m the one starting something and backing out?” She let out a bitter laugh. “That’s ironic.”

Paige groaned, throwing her head back. “Azzi, just talk to me instead of throwing around all this cryptic shit.”

Azzi held her gaze for a moment, her lips pressing into a thin line. Then, before she could stop herself, she said it. “We keep kissing, Paige. We kiss a lot actually.”

Silence. Paige felt her stomach drop, her mouth suddenly dry.

Azzi shook her head, looking away—she couldn’t look at Paige while she said this. “And we never talk about it. We act like it doesn’t mean anything, and maybe to you, it doesn’t, but I—” She stopped herself, exhaling through her nose. “I just don’t get how you can sit here and act like none of it matters.”

Paige swallowed hard. “Azzi that’s not—”

Azzi turned back to her, her voice quieter now. “You’re leaving soon. And once you go, this—whatever this is, whatever we’re doing—it’s over, right?”

Paige’s throat felt tight, but she forced the words out anyway. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Azzi let out a long breath, shaking her head. “What does that mean, Paige?”

Paige’s jaw clenched. “It means we don’t have to stop just because I’m going to UConn.”

Azzi scoffed. “Right. So what? You want to keep doing what exactly? Keep flirting with me, kissing me but then pretending it doesn’t mean anything?”

Paige’s frustration spiked. “I never said it didn’t mean anything.”

“You sure as hell act like it.”

Paige ran a hand over her face, exhaling. “Az, I really don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to say something for once instead of just kissing me and pretending it never happened.” Azzi’s voice was rising now, her usual calmness slipping. “Because I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending like it’s normal to make out with my best friend one second and then act like nothing happened the next.”

Paige shook her head. “You think this is easy for me?”

Azzi let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, yeah. It must be so hard for you, Paige. Having somebody, with no labels, to makeout with whenever you want is so fucking hard. Meanwhile, I’m the one sitting here wondering if I’m just another one of your little distractions before you leave.”

Paige’s chest tightened. “That’s not fair. It’s not like that.”

Azzi stared at her. “Isn’t it?”

Paige didn’t answer right away. The air between them was tense, heavy with something unsaid, something neither of them had been brave enough to confront.

Finally, Paige exhaled, her voice quieter now. “Azzi, you’re not just—” She swallowed. “You’re not just some distraction.”

Azzi searched her face, eyes flickering between Paige’s. “Then what am I?”

Paige opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Because she didn’t have an answer—at least, not one that wouldn’t change everything.

Azzi sighed, shaking her head. “That’s what I thought.”

Paige let out a sharp breath, running a hand through her hair. “Azzi please, come on.”

Azzi’s jaw tightened. “No. I’m done guessing, Paige.”

Paige’s frustration boiled over. “I don’t know how to say it, okay?”

“Say what, Paige?”

Paige clenched her jaw, her voice rising. “That I don’t want to leave! That I don’t want things to change! That I—” She cut herself off, exhaling hard.

Azzi’s gaze stayed locked on her, daring her to finish. “That you what?”

Paige shook her head, her pulse hammering. “I don’t know.”

Azzi threw her hands up. “See? This is exactly what I’m talking about. You do know, Paige, you just don’t want to say it.”

Paige’s face burned with frustration. “Because once I do, it means something, Azzi. And I don’t—I don’t know how to deal with that. You barely know how to deal with it so you’re putting it on me.”

Azzi scoffed. “So instead, you’d rather just ignore it? Pretend like nothing’s happening between us?”

Paige ran a hand over her face, exasperated. “It’s not like that.”

Azzi crossed her arms. “Then what’s it like?”

Paige opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. She could feel it—all of it—boiling just under the surface, but every time she tried to pull it out, to say what she knew Azzi needed to hear, something inside her locked up.

Azzi shook her head. “You’re being a coward Paige.”

Paige’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

Azzi didn’t back down. “You heard me.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No? Then prove me wrong.”

Paige’s frustration snapped like a rubber band stretched too tight. Before she could stop herself, she was closing the distance between them, her hand gripping the back of Azzi’s neck as she pushed their lips together.

Azzi kissed back for a moment—just a moment—before she abruptly pushed Paige away, her breath coming fast. “No. You don’t get to do that.”

Paige looked stunned, her lips still tingling, her chest tight. “Azzi—”

“No,” Azzi snapped. “You don’t get to kiss me just to shut me up Paige. That’s not how this shit works.”

Paige ran a hand through her hair, exhaling hard. “That’s not what I was doing, Azzi.”

“Really? Because that’s what it feels like. Every time we get remotely close to actually talking about this, you do something like that.”

Paige sighed. “I don’t know how to talk about this, baby.”

Azzi’s gaze softened for a split second before she shook her head. “Then figure it out, Paige. Because I can’t keep being the only one who actually wants to face it.”

Paige’s frustration cracked, desperation creeping into her voice. “I do want to face it—I just don’t want to lose you.”

“Then say something, Paige. Say anything that actually means something instead of trying to shove your tongue down my throat.”

Paige swallowed hard, her heart pounding. “I don’t want this to be over. I don’t want to leave and pretend none of this ever happened. I don’t want you to think you’re just some—some phase or some mistake—some distraction.” She inhaled, her voice softer now. “I don’t want to lose you, Azzi.”

Azzi’s expression faltered for just a second before she let out a slow breath. “Paige…”

Paige shook her head, her chest tightening. “I just—I know I’m scared, Az. And shit’s about to be so different. I’m about to be in a different state, away from my family…away from you. There’s all these expectations and I haven’t even gotten on campus yet and I just—I need you Az. I need you more than anything and I’m scared that shit’s going to change between us, get weird and I can’t…I won’t be able to handle this without my best friend so I’ve just been—”

A sudden knock on the door cut her off.

Azzi’s mom’s voice came from the other side. “Everything okay in there?”

Azzi didn’t take her eyes off Paige. “Yes we’re fine.”

A brief pause. Then, “You sure? I heard yelling.”

Azzi sighed. “Mom, please.”

Silence. Then fading footsteps.

Azzi barely waited before she kissed Paige softly, melting into her.

3rd Person POV - October 2020 (Connecticut)

Azzi hadn’t planned on coming to Connecticut. At least, not until a few days ago when the idea of not being with Paige on her birthday started gnawing at her. The two of them talked every day, missed each other like crazy. Yes things were still… undefined. A mess of feelings that they had only began to sort through.

But none of that mattered right now. Because she was here.

Azzi pushed open the door to Ted’s, the warmth and noise of the packed bar hitting her immediately. She hadn’t even told Paige she was coming—she wanted to surprise her, wanted to see the look on her face when she realized Azzi had shown up for her birthday.

But the moment she stepped inside, her stomach twisted.

Paige was by the bar, a drink in her hand, laughter carrying over the music. She looked good—too good—her head tilted back slightly as she smiled at something one of her teammates said, Evina, if Azzi remembers correctly. But it wasn’t her teammates that caught Azzi’s attention. It was the other girls around her.

They were close. Too close.

One of them leaned into Paige clearly trying to get any form of contact she could from the blonde. Another one saying something to Paige, making her chuckle and shake her head no.

Azzi felt something burn in her chest.

She had spent the last few weeks missing Paige so much it physically hurt—she thought Paige was in the same boat. They called whenever they could, they texted, they danced around what they were, never putting a real label on it but still knowing, deep down, that whatever this was—it was real.

Yet, here was Paige, letting random girls touch her like it was nothing. Like they were nothing. In her anger Azzi didn’t even see the way Paige completely lit up when she noticed Azzi standing by the door. She didn’t notice that Paige immediately started walking towards her without even a whisper of an excuse to anyone around her.

Without thinking, Azzi turned on her heel and pushed back out the door.

“Azzi!”

Her heart clenched at the sound of her name, but she kept walking.

“Azzi, wait!”

Footsteps echoed against the pavement, and before she could get too far, a hand wrapped around her wrist, forcing her to stop.

Azzi exhaled harshly, staring straight ahead. “Go back inside, Paige.”

Paige stepped in front of her, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Why did you leave?”

Azzi let out a bitter laugh. “Are you serious?”

Paige’s expression flickered. “Azzi, it’s not what you think.”

Azzi raised her eyebrows. “Oh, really? Because from where I was standing, it looked like you were having a pretty grand time.”

Paige groaned, running a hand through her hair. “They were just talkin to me.”

“Right.” Azzi shook her head, stepping back. “Just talking.”

Paige sighed, frustrated. “Yes Azzi, just talking. Why you acting like this? I'm happy to see you and you mad at me.”

Azzi shook her head as she started walking again.

Paige groaned again, stumbling slightly as she tried to step closer. "Azzi, come on." She reached for her, but Azzi sidestepped her touch.

"Don't."

Paige frowned, her drunk mind struggling to keep up. "Come on baby, why you so mad?"

Azzi scoffed. "Are you serious right now? You’re in there letting random girls be all over you, and I’m just supposed to be fine with it?"

Paige let out an exasperated laugh. "I wasn't letting them be all over me!"

Azzi crossed her arms. "Ohhh right, so they just tripped and landed on you?"

Paige rolled her eyes. "You’re blowing this out of proportion."

Azzi’s expression darkened. "No, I’m not."

Paige tried to reach for her again, but Azzi stepped back, hands pushing her away softly. "Azzi, stop pushing me."

"Then stop trying,".

Paige swayed slightly, blinking at her. "I’m just tryna get close to you. I miss you."

Azzi scoffed. "No, you want to charm your way out of this like you always do."

Paige let out a huff. "God, why are you making this such a big deal?"

Azzi’s eyes flashed before she took a breath to calm herself down. "Because you don’t take any of this seriously, Paige! You never do! You’re drunk and now you’re out here stumbling around to who knows where—"

Paige threw her hands up. "I’ve done a drunk walk around the block enough times to know where I’m going, Azzi."

"That’s not the flex you think it is, P."

Paige narrowed her eyes at her. "Why are you even here if you're just gonna yell at me?"

Azzi turned away again, but this time, Paige grabbed her arm.

"Azzi, please," Paige murmured, her grip tightening slightly.

Azzi clenched her jaw, as she looked at Paige not saying anything.

Paige let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t care about any of those girls, Az! I keep telling you that.”

“Really? Because it sure as hell didn’t look like that from where I was standing.”

Paige groaned, stepping closer again, ignoring the way Azzi kept putting space between them. “I wasn’t flirting with them! I was just talking. You’re acting like I was all over them.”

Azzi shot her a look. “It doesn’t matter if you weren’t all over them. They were all over you, and you just let it happen.”

Paige threw her hands up. “What did you want me to do? Shove them off me?”

Azzi exhaled, shaking her head. “You’re playing dumb.”

Paige shot back, “You’re the one who wanted to keep things open, remember? You said we should just see what happens—”

“And you agreed.”

Paige laughed. “Yeah, because that’s clearly what you wanted Azzi! But you’re standing here acting like I betrayed you or something.”

Azzi’s eyes flashed. “Because it feels like you did Paige!”

Paige’s chest rose and fell, her mind spinning, the alcohol making her words looser, her emotions heavier. “Azzi, I love you.”

Azzi froze for a long time. The silence stretched between them.

Finally she exhaled, shaking her head again. “You don’t mean that,” she said, voice quiet now. “You’re drunk. You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

Paige stepped closer to Azzi, pulling her closer, thankful when she didn’t push her away. “Az, I swear to god, I love you.”

Azzi looked at her, really looked at her, searching her face for something, but whatever she was looking for, she didn’t seem to find it.

She glanced away, running a hand through her hair, her voice carefully even. “Let’s just go back to your party P.”

Paige blinked, her chest tightening. “Azzi—”

Azzi turned back toward the bar without another word, and Paige stood there, her heart still racing, wondering if she just said too much or not enough.

Once they stepped back inside, although Paige was hurt she didn’t let it show, she refused to let Azzi leave her side.

She kept an arm draped around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her close as they navigated through the crowd. Any time someone so much as looked at her for too long, Paige would shift closer, pressing against Azzi in a way that made it clear who she wanted to be with.

Azzi didn’t pull away, but she didn’t fully lean into it either. She let Paige guide them through the bar, let her wrap an arm around her waist when they stopped at the table with the team, let her fingers linger on Azzi’s wrist when she reached for her drink. She let it all happen, but she didn’t say much throughout the night.

Paige didn’t care. She was determined to prove to her that she meant what she said.

She made sure Azzi was the only one she talked to, the only one she looked at, the only one she danced with when someone dragged them toward the music. When another girl tried to get her attention, Paige didn’t even glance her way—she just tightened her hold on Azzi, whispering something against her ear that made Azzi huff out a breath, something between exasperation and amusement.

Still, Azzi didn’t fully acknowledge any of it. Either she didn’t want to believe it, or she truly didn’t, but she didn’t ruin Paige’s night. She let Paige stay curled up against her in the booth, let her play with the hem of her sleeve absentmindedly, let her rest her chin on her shoulder. And when Paige officially got too drunk—when her words started slurring and her steps became unsteady—Azzi laughed softly, shook her head, and silently helped her out of the bar.

As they walked back to Paige’s dorm, Paige clung to Azzi like she was her lifeline. One arm was slung around Azzi’s shoulders, the other gripping her hand, fingers laced like she was afraid to let go. And she wouldn’t stop talking.

“I love your laugh so much,” Paige mumbled, her words slightly slurred. “Like, really love it. It’s stupid how much I love it.”

Azzi sighed, adjusting her grip on Paige’s waist as they walked forward. “Paige—”

“And your eyes.” Paige ignored her, tightening her hold. “God, your eyes, Az. You ever look in the mirror? Like, really look? They’re so pretty. Sometimes I get distracted when you’re talking ‘cause I just—” She made an exaggerated hand motion as she hiccuped. “I get lost in ‘em.”

Azzi closed her eyes for a moment, exhaling through her nose. “Paige, please stop talking.”

“No.” Paige pouted, shaking her head. “You don’t get it. You—you act like I don’t care, like I don’t see you, but I do. I see everything, Az.”

Azzi’s jaw clenched. She kept walking, gripping Paige a little tighter, but Paige kept going.

“You always smell good,” Paige mused, like it was a secret. “Like, stupidly good. It’s unfair.” She buried her face into Azzi’s shoulder dramatically, inhaling deeply. “Like right now? It’s ridiculous. What even is that? Do you live in vanilla or some shit?”

Azzi huffed out a breath, looking up at the sky like she was begging for patience. “Paige.”

“And you’re so good, Az,” Paige continued, voice softer now. “You take care of me, even when I don’t deserve it. Even when I’m stupid or drunk or messing everything up. I don’t know why you do it, but you do.”

Azzi’s throat tightened. Paige doesn’t know how much Azzi wanted to hear this, how long she had been waiting to hear this. Azzi just wishes that Paige had the guts to say it when she wasn’t drunk. When Azzi could believe that she truly meant what she was saying. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do,” Paige argued, stopping in her tracks and pulling Azzi with her. “I know exactly what I’m saying. I just—I never say it.” She frowned, blinking blearily up at Azzi as she swayed a little and swallowed another hiccup. “And that’s my fault. But I do love you, Az. You have to know that.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her fingers twitching against Paige’s waist. She wanted to believe her. Wanted to let herself feel everything Paige was saying. But she couldn’t. Not like this.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Come on,” she mumbled, tugging Paige forward again. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Paige stumbled a little as they kept walking, but her grip on Azzi never wavered as she continued rambling.

“All I want is you,” Paige murmured. “I don’t care about anyone else…anything else Az. Just you.”

Azzi kept her gaze ahead, “Paige—”

“No, listen.” Paige stopped walking again, forcing Azzi to stop with her. “You know how I know?”

Azzi sighed, rubbing a hand down her face. “I’d rather you not tell me right now but I’m sure you’re going to anyway.”

Paige’s lips parted, and her eyes, though glassy, were full of something real. “Because every time I think about somebody else having you, getting to see the sides of you I see, I feel sick. Physically sick. And I know that’s selfish as shit, but I don’t care. I don’t want anyone else to have you, Az. I want you.”

Azzi inhaled sharply, her stomach twisting. “Paige, you’re drunk.”

“So what?” Paige challenged, stepping closer. “Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.”

Azzi exhaled, looking away. “Please just drop it, okay? Let me get you inside.”

“No.” Paige’s fingers curled into Azzi’s hoodie, tugging her closer. “Do you love me?”

Azzi completely froze. Her grip on Paige faltered just slightly before she realized how much of her weight she was holding and she adjusted her grip again.

Paige searched her face desperately, her voice quieter now, more fragile. “Az. Do you?”

Azzi swallowed, forcing herself to pull away slightly. “Paige, drop it.”

Paige shook her head stubbornly making herself slightly dizzy. “No. I need to know.”

Azzi clenched her jaw, looking anywhere but at Paige as she closed her eyes, forcing the tears not to fall. “Not like this please baby.”

Paige’s breath hitched. “Azzi—”

“Not like this, Paige,” Azzi repeated, her voice strained. “You’re drunk. You won’t even remember half of this tomorrow.”

Paige’s face crumpled like the words physically hurt her. “That’s not fair.”

Azzi exhaled through her nose, her heart hammering. “Come on,” she whispered, reaching for Paige’s hand again and squeezing it when they laced their fingers together. “Let’s go.”

The next morning, sunlight slipped through the blinds, casting a glow over the tangled sheets and the two bodies nestled together beneath them. Paige groaned, blinking against the light, the ache in her head reminding her just how much she had to drink the night before. But that wasn’t what made her chest feel tight. All the memories came rushing in—every drunken confession, every plea for Azzi to just say it back. And she remembered that Azzi never did. But she remembered how Azzi basically carried her home last night. How as soon as she laid down the room started spinning so Azzi helped her to the bathroom and held her hair. She remembers how Azzi basically brushed her teeth for her. How Azzi kissed her goodnight before pulling the cover over both of them.

And now Azzi is still here. Still wrapped around her, holding her like she didn’t want to let go.

Paige swallowed hard, keeping her eyes closed as she breathed in Azzi’s familiar scent, letting herself pretend—for just a little longer—that everything was okay. That last night hadn’t hurt. LIke it didn’t hurt all over again to remember it as soon as she woke up.

Azzi shifted slightly, her fingers instinctively curling against Paige’s side. A quiet hum left her lips before she finally blinked awake, her gaze finding Paige’s.

“Morning,” she whispered, her voice still thick with sleep.

Paige forced a small smile. “Morning.”

They stayed like that for a moment, neither making a move to pull away. If anything, they only inched closer, their noses nearly brushing.

Azzi exhaled softly, eyes flickering down to Paige’s lips. “I missed you so much P.”

Paige’s breath caught, the words sinking deep. She knew Azzi meant more than just the past few hours.

“Yeah?” Paige whispered.

Azzi nodded, her fingers tightening against Paige’s waist. “Yes.”

Paige didn’t answer with words. Instead, she closed the distance, pressing her lips to Azzi’s like she’d been craving it for months. Azzi melted instantly, sighing into the kiss, her arms pulling Paige in until there was no space left between them.

“I missed you too,” Paige mumbled against her lips, kissing her again. “So much.”

Azzi didn’t say anything about the night before—maybe because she still thought Paige didn’t remember, or maybe because she just didn’t have the words. But in the way she held Paige, in the way she kissed her back like she wanted to make up for every second they’d spent apart, she didn’t have to, at least not yet.

3rd Person POV - August 2021 (Connecticut)

They’re at Ted’s, music humming through the bar, the air humid with warmth and alcohol. Paige is sitting by the bar, talking to a girl she barely knows, just answering her questions out of politeness.

Paige didn’t even notice the girl at first. She was too caught up in the warmth of the bar, the buzz of alcohol in her system, and the presence of Azzi right next to her. They had been standing close, shoulders brushing, Azzi’s arm loosely draped over the back of Paige’s stool as Paige whispered something to her that made her laugh and glance in the direction Paige was referring to.

It wasn’t anything unusual. They always hovered near each other like this, caught in that undefined space between everything and something.

The girl came up while Paige was mid-laugh, leaning into Azzi’s side, but when the girl spoke, Paige straightened slightly, offering a polite smile.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you—I just wanted to say I’m a huge fan.”

Paige smiled. “Oh, thanks, I appreciate that.”

Azzi didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge the girl, just sipped from her drink while watching the interaction unfold.

“I actually had a couple questions—if that’s okay?” the girl asked, shifting slightly closer.

Paige shrugged, always happy to talk about basketball and never wanting to be rude to fans. “Yeah, of course.”

It was harmless at first. Just the usual questions about the team, how she felt about the upcoming season. Paige answered them easily, glancing at Azzi every so often as if expecting her to chime in. But Azzi stayed silent, Paige just assumed she was lost in her own thoughts.

“So, are you single?”

Paige barely hesitated before answering, because technically, she was.

“Yeah.”

Azzi scoffed. It was quiet, but Paige heard it.

Paige blinked at Azzi. “What?”

Azzi stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “Nothing.”

But Paige knew her too well. She could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she clenched her jaw.

“Azzi.” Paige’s voice was slightly louder now, calling her back, but Azzi was already moving, shaking her head.

Paige stood too, stepping closer. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?”

The girl who had asked the question awkwardly shifted away, sensing the sudden shift in mood, but Paige barely noticed.

Azzi tilted her head, lips curling into something almost amused but not quite. “You didn’t even think about it. You just answered.”

Paige scoffed. “Because it’s not a fucking trick question, Azzi.”

Azzi’s jaw tensed. “Right. Because you’re so single.”

Paige exhaled sharply, suddenly feeling hot—from the alcohol, from frustration, from Azzi.

“I mean, yeah, I am.” She crossed her arms, brows furrowing. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Azzi’s expression flickered, something flashing through her eyes too quickly for Paige to catch. “Forget it.”

She turned on her heel, heading toward the door.

Paige followed without thinking, voice rising. “No, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to act like I did something wrong when you’re the one who—”

Azzi spun around so fast Paige nearly ran into her.

“Not here.”

Her voice was lower now, but Paige could still hear the edge to it.

For a second, they just stood there, eyes locked.

Then, without another word, Azzi reached out, grabbed Paige’s wrist, and pulled her toward the exit.

The cold air hit Paige’s skin, a sharp contrast to the heat burning in her chest. Azzi dropped her wrist the second they were outside, pacing a few steps away before turning back, her eyes dark.

Paige exhaled hard, running a hand through her hair. “Alright, tell me what the hell that was.”

“Are you serious right now?”

Paige threw her arms out. “Yes, Azzi! I don’t get why you’re so upset over a question I didn’t even lie about.”

Azzi’s jaw clenched. “You answered it so easily.”

“Because it was easy!” Paige shot back, voice rising. “I am single! That’s what you wanted, right? You were the one who wanted to keep things open during your first few months here, so what the hell do you want from me?”

Azzi’s jaw tightened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “You could’ve at least hesitated. Said you weren’t available.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s what you’re mad about? You wanted me to sit there and stutter for you? For what?” She stepped closer. “I didn’t even want the fucking girl, Azzi. I don’t want any of them. But you—you don’t want to commit, so I go along with it. I always go along with whatever you want.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Paige shot back. “You don’t get to be mad at me when you’re the one holding all the cards. You always have.”

Azzi let out a breath, her expression faltering for a second. “Paige, you’re drunk.”

“No shit. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong, Azzi.”

Azzi turned away, shaking her head like she was trying to shut this all out. But Paige wasn’t done.

“You don’t want me to say I’m single? Fine, I won’t.” Paige took another step forward. “You want me to ignore every girl who looks at me? Fine, I’ll do that too.” She threw her hands up. “Hell, Azzi, just tell me what you want, and I’ll fucking do it! Because that’s what I always fucking do.”

Azzi’s nostrils flared as she turned back. “That’s not true, Paige. I don’t control you.”

Paige let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Azzi stayed silent, her eyes darting over Paige’s face like she wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words.

Paige exhaled shakily before lowering her voice. “You wanna know what really pisses me off about this whole thing Azzi?”

Azzi swallowed. “What?”

“I told you I loved you.” Paige’s voice cracked, just slightly.

Azzi stiffened.

“Ten months ago, Az.” Paige let out a humorless breath, shaking her head. “I told you, and you didn’t say it back.”

Azzi’s face fell, her lips parting like she wanted to speak, but nothing came out.

Paige scoffed, blinking harshly. “You’re pissed over some girl asking me if I’m single, but you—” Her voice wavered, her chest tightening. “You couldn’t even fucking answer me that night.”

Azzi swallowed again, her throat bobbing. “Paige, I—”

“No.” Paige cut her off. “You don’t get to be mad at me for answering a question honestly when you—when you couldn’t even fucking answer me.”

Silence.

Azzi’s fingers twitched at her sides like she wanted to reach for Paige, like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t.

Azzi exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down her face. “You only say this shit when you’re drunk.”

Paige’s head snapped up, her frustration boiling over. “God, Azzi, you always use that as fucking excuse! Like I’m blackout or something, like I don’t know what the hell I’m saying.” She took a step closer. “But I do. I always do. I always remember”

Azzi’s jaw clenched, her eyes flickering with something unreadable. “Paige you can’t just—”

“No, Azzi.” Paige cut in, her breath unsteady. “I meant it then, and I mean it now. But you—you act like none of it counts. Like my feelings don’t count unless I say them exactly when you want me to.”

Azzi let out a slow breath, looking away for a second before finally meeting Paige’s eyes again. The fight in her expression dulled, replaced by something softer, something tired.

“Can we just—” Azzi sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Can we just talk at home please?”

Paige hesitated, her chest still tight, her hands still curled at her sides. She wanted to keep pushing, to make Azzi see how much this hurt. But instead, she exhaled hard and gave a slow nod. “Okay.”

Azzi didn’t say anything else, just reached for Paige’s wrist again, this time with less force, guiding her away from the bar and toward the dorms.

And even though the argument had paused, the tension between them hadn’t gone anywhere.

…

The door shuts behind them, but neither of them speaks at first. Paige walks to the bed, sitting down, her head still spinning from alcohol and frustration. Azzi lingers near the door, back against the wall, arms crossed over her chest like she’s bracing herself.

She doesn’t look at Paige when she finally breaks the silence. “Why do you never say any of this when you’re sober?”

Paige lets out a long breath, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t know, Az.” She drops her gaze back down, meeting Azzi’s eyes. “But does it even matter?”

“Yes. It does.”

Paige scoffs, shaking her head. “No, it doesn’t. Because whether I say it drunk or sober, it’s still the truth.”

Azzi shifts against the wall before saying, “You think that’s the same thing?”

Paige leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Yes! I always know what I’m saying, Az. I’m not just making shit up.”

Azzi looks away, jaw tight. Paige watches her carefully, then sighs, voice dropping. “Do you even care?”

Azzi’s head snaps toward her. “Of course I care.”

Paige pushes, her frustration mounting. “Then say something more than that. Say something more than just telling me that what I’m saying doesn’t matter because I’m drunk.”

Paige sees it—the hesitation, the walls going up. It makes her stomach twist. It’s almost ironic how much of a 180 they’ve done. It used to be Azzi begging Paige to say something, to give her a hint of how she felt.

Paige lets out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. “See? This is what you do. You never say anything. You never let me know where I stand with you, but the second someone asks me if I’m single, suddenly it’s a problem? Suddenly all hell breaks loose.”

Azzi’s brow furrows. “That’s not—”

“No, that’s exactly what this is!” Paige cuts her off, her voice rising. She leans forward, frustration spilling out. “You get upset, but you won’t tell me why. You won’t tell me what you want. Just—tell me how you feel, Azzi. Please.”

The silence between them stretches, heavy and suffocating. Paige waits, her heart hammering, but Azzi stays frozen, her throat bobbing as she struggles for words.

Paige lets out a quiet sigh, shaking her head. “That’s what I thought.”

She pushes herself up from the bed, ready to walk away. “Forget it. I need to cool off.”

Azzi’s eyes snap to her, panic flashing across her face. “Paige, this is your room.”

Paige shrugs, not turning back. “I’ll be back, I just—I need a minute.”

But before she can reach the door, Azzi moves.

Her hand wraps around Paige’s wrist—not forcefully, just enough to stop her. Azzi swallows hard, her grip tightening slightly. She could speak now. She could say what Paige wants to hear. But the words don’t come.

Instead, she pulls Paige toward her and kisses her.

It’s hesitant at first, uncertain, but when Paige doesn’t pull away, Azzi deepens it, her hands moving to Paige’s waist, fingers pressing into her like she’s afraid she’ll let go.

Paige exhales into the kiss, her frustration melting away into something softer like it always did with Azzi. After a second she starts to pull back, trying to say something, but Azzi doesn’t let her.

Azzi chases her lips, pressing closer, her breath shaky. As if she’s scared for the moment to end as if she’s terrified to lose Paige.

She can’t find the words, but she can show her. She wants Paige to feel what she’s been too scared to say. So she kisses her harder and this time, Paige doesn’t try to stop her.

Azzi walks them backward, guiding Paige toward the bed. Paige barely has time to register it before the backs of her knees hit the edge, and she’s falling onto the mattress, leaning up on her elbows, breath uneven.

Her pupils are blown wide as she stares up at Azzi, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.

Azzi reaches for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head.

Paige freezes.

Her mouth parts slightly, and for a second, she just stares—completely awe-struck. The way the lighting casts soft shadows along the curves of Azzi’s body, the way her hair falls slightly over her shoulder—it makes Paige dizzy.

Azzi holds her gaze, searching for hesitation, but Paige’s hands are already moving before she can think—gripping Azzi’s waist, pulling her forward.

Azzi exhales softly before climbing onto Paige’s lap, settling over her with ease.

Then she kisses her again.

Paige’s hands travel up Azzi’s back, fingertips pressing softly into her skin as Azzi deepens the kiss, pouring every unspoken word into it.

She doesn’t need to say it. Not now. Not when she can show Paige exactly what she means.

And Paige?

She lets her.

She lets herself fall.

She always has.

Azzi pulls away just enough for their lips to part, her breath warm against Paige’s skin. Her fingers tremble slightly where they rest against Paige’s ribs.

“P, I’ve never—”

Paige nods up at her before she can finish, already knowing. Understanding.

“We can stop,” Paige murmurs.

But Azzi shakes her head. “No. Not this time.”

Paige’s eyes search hers for any uncertainty, but there isn’t any.

So she nods, allowing Azzi to pull her shirt over her head, letting it fall somewhere to the side.

Azzi’s hands roam over Paige’s skin, like she’s memorizing every inch, like she’s seeing it in a new light.

Then, with gentle certainty, Paige flips them over, caging Azzi beneath her.

“Let me know if you want to stop,” she whispers, hovering above her, eyes locked onto Azzi’s.

Azzi doesn’t respond with words. She just reaches up, pulling Paige down into another kiss, hands tangling into her hair.

3rd Person POV - 2021 (Connecticut)

Paige had always been the one who struggled with communication. She was the one who avoided hard conversations, who buried her feelings beneath layers of sarcasm and easy distractions. Azzi was the opposite—she talked things through, making sure nothing was left unsaid. That’s just how they worked.

But now? Now everything was upside down.

After that night, Paige had expected something—anything—from Azzi. A conversation. A reassurance. Even an acknowledgment. Instead, she got silence.

Azzi didn’t disappear, not physically. They still saw each other every day. They still sat together at meals, still warmed up side by side at practice, still lingered in each other’s spaces. But something had shifted. Azzi wasn’t looking at her the same way. She wasn’t teasing her, wasn’t touching her the way she used to. She was there, but not really.

At first, Paige tried to talk about it. She gave Azzi easy openings, little moments where she could have said something.

"You good?" she’d asked one morning after practice, nudging Azzi’s knee under the table at breakfast.

"Yeah, just tired," Azzi replied, keeping her eyes down on her plate.

Another time, they were laying together on the bed and Paige mentioned, "We should talk, don’t you think?"

"About what?" Azzi asked, and Paige had felt something inside her crack.

After a few days of trying, Paige stopped. She told herself that maybe Azzi needed space. That maybe she was overthinking it. But deep down, she knew she wasn’t.

Azzi was retreating. And for the first time, Paige was the one left reaching.

The worst part? It hurt like hell.

Because no matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise, she couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that the reason Azzi wouldn’t talk about it was because she regretted it.

That maybe she didn’t love Paige back. That maybe she had gotten everything wrong.

So Paige gave her space. She stopped trying, stopped pushing. If Azzi wanted to pretend nothing had changed, then fine.

Still, the distance between them was suffocating. And with each passing day, resentment started to fester.

Like always it came to a head at Ted’s.

The bar was packed, the music loud, but Paige barely noticed any of it. She was a few drinks in, lingering at the bar with some girl from who knows where—she didn’t even remember her name. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t interested. She was just there, going through the motions, trying not to think about the way Azzi had been avoiding her for days. Paige knew she shouldn’t have let this girl get this close, knew she shouldn’t even be talking to her. But she wanted to get a reaction out of Azzi and she knew this was a sure way to do it.

She knew it worked when she felt that familiar gaze burning into her skin.

Azzi was a few steps away, sitting with their teammates, her jaw tight, fingers gripping her drink a little too hard. Paige wasn’t sure how long Azzi had been watching, but she could see it—the tension in her shoulders.

Just as Paige let out a small laugh at something the girl beside her said Azzi was next to her.

"Didn’t take you long to move on."

Paige turned slowly, her brows drawing together. "What?"

“Nothing. Just didn’t think you’d be so... quick about it."

"Are you serious right now?" she asked, her voice carrying over the music.

Azzi shrugged, bringing her drink to her lips. "I mean, you’re single, right? Just living it up finally."

"You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to act like you care when you’re the one who's spent the last few weeks acting like nothing happened."

Azzi’s lips parted slightly, but she didn’t speak, clenching her jaw to stop herself.

Paige shook her head. "No, say it. Say what you’ve been thinking. Because I know you, Azzi.

“Maybe I don’t care anymore. Maybe I just don’t have anything to say."

"Bullshit." Paige took a step closer, her voice rising. "You always have something to say. Except now."

Azzi exhaled sharply, her jaw tightening.

Paige shook her head, “You’re such a fucking coward sometimes Az.”

Azzi flinched.

Paige knew it was a low blow, but she didn’t care.

Azzi’s eyes darkened and hurt flashed across her face before she said something she knew would hurt Paige. "Maybe letting you fuck me was a mistake."

Silence. Paige felt the words settle. The bar blurring around her.

Azzi’s expression immediately shifted when she realized how far she went, like she hadn’t meant to say it, like she wished she could take it back.

Paige swallowed hard, forcing a laugh even as her chest ached. "At least now I finally know where I stand."

Azzi opened her mouth, but Paige didn’t wait for whatever excuse was coming. She turned on her heel and walked out, pushing past bodies, her vision hazy.

The cold air outside was a stark contrast to the suffocating heat inside the bar, but Paige barely noticed. She was too focused on getting away, her feet moving fast down the sidewalk.

But before she could get too far, a hand wrapped around her wrist.

"Paige, wait. I’m sorry."

Paige whipped around, yanking her arm free. "For what, Azzi? What the hell do you want from me?"

Azzi stood there, breathing hard, her eyes wild under the streetlights. "I’m so sorry, I—just—can we talk?"

"Talk? Now you wanna talk? After you stood in there and called what we had a fucking mistake?"

Azzi flinched. "I didn’t mean that."

"But you said it…And you know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe it was a mistake. Not because of what we did, but because I was stupid enough to think you actually wanted this. Wanted me."

Azzi ran a hand down her face, frustration rolling off her in waves as tears pooled in her eyes. "God, Paige, you act like this is so easy for me."

Paige’s nostrils flared. "It is! It’s the easiest thing in the fucking world! I love you, Azzi! And I don’t understand why that’s so damn hard for you to accept, to believe me. But you don’t give a fuck so it really doesn’t matter.”

Azzi’s face twisted with something Paige couldn’t figure out—guilt, fear, longing. Maybe all of it.

"I never said I didn’t care."

Paige let out a sharp breath. "You didn’t have to. You shut down. You ran. You left me with nothing, Azzi. I’ve spent the last few weeks trying to give you space, hoping you’d come to me when you were ready. But all I got was silence."

Azzi shook her head, stepping closer. "I didn’t know what to do."

"You didn’t know what to do?!" Paige’s voice cracked, her hands trembling. "How about telling me the fucking truth? How about choosing me?"

Azzi exhaled heavily "I was fucking terrified, okay?"

"Of what?" Paige threw her arms out. "Loving me? Because, newsflash, Azzi, if you really loved me, you wouldn’t have pushed me away the second things got real."

Azzi’s eyes flashed with something desperate and before she could stop herself, the words spilled out of her mouth.

"I do love you Paige."

It came out like a confession, like a plea. Like something she had been trying so damn hard to bury but couldn’t hold back any longer.

Paige stilled. Her breath hitched. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back, shaking her head. "No, you don’t."

Azzi stepped forward, looking at her like she was everything, like she was terrified to lose her. "Paige—"

Paige turned on her heel, ready to leave, to put as much distance as possible between herself and Azzi before she shattered completely. But Azzi wasn’t letting her go this time.

She grabbed Paige’s wrist again, but this time, she didn’t just hold her back—she pulled her in. Pulled her close, so close that Paige could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the sheer panic radiating off her.

"Paige, please." Azzi’s voice cracked, and something about it—about the way she said her name like it was her last lifeline—made Paige freeze.

Azzi’s hands were trembling as she clutched at Paige’s arms. She wasn’t running now. She wasn’t shutting down. She was unraveling.

"I don’t know how to do this," Azzi admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know how to love you without losing myself."

Paige swallowed hard, her anger slowly being replaced with concern. "Azzi—"

"No, let me say this." Azzi took a deep breath, blinking rapidly, a few tears rolling down her cheek. "I’m always so calculated. So in control. And then you come along, and suddenly I can’t even think straight half the time. You—" she exhaled shakily "—you scare the shit out of me, P."

Paige’s brows pulled together, her heart aching at the vulnerability in Azzi’s voice. "Azzi, I would never hurt you."

Azzi let out a small, breathless laugh, shaking her head. "That’s the problem. You could. You did for a little bit. When I was completely in love with you and I had to be your best friend and listen to you telling me about how you slept with someone else for the first time. That’s when I realized you could break me, Paige. How you could ruin my entire world and that terrifies me more than anything."

Paige’s breath caught.

"I didn’t pull away because I don’t love you," Azzi admitted, her voice trembling. "I pulled away because I love you too much. Because the moment I let myself have you, I knew I’d never want to let you go. I knew I wouldn’t be able to live without you and I didn’t know what to do with that."

Paige felt the last of her anger drain away, leaving only understanding in its place because she had gone through that exact same thing.

Azzi wasn’t scared because she didn’t love her. She was scared because she did.

Deeply. Completely.

Paige reached up, cupping Azzi’s face, her thumb brushing over her cheek. "You don’t have to know what to do. You just gotta trust me Az. Trust that maybe we can figure it out together."

Azzi’s lips parted, her breath shaky, and then she kissed her.

Not out of desperation. Not out of fear. Paige hesitated at first, a split second of uncertainty passing through her, but then she melted into it, her hands sliding around Azzi, squeezing her like she’d never let go. Her entire body was trembling, but not from the usual anger or frustration. This was something else. Something deeper, more vulnerable.

The kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t about passion alone. It was about everything—everything they had been through, everything they wanted to be together. It was everything they’d both been afraid to admit.

When they finally pulled away, both of them breathless, Azzi rested her forehead against Paige’s, closing her eyes for a moment.

"I love you." Azzi whispered it so softly, as if the words had been buried for years, locked away in a place she’d never dared to go. "I’ve always loved you. I’ve loved you since I was 15. I just didn’t know how to say it."

Paige’s breath hitched. She felt a lump in her throat, a quiet sob wanting to escape, but she swallowed it down. She leaned into Azzi, her forehead still against hers, closing her eyes and letting out a shaky exhale. "Then please don’t run this time. Just let me love you, Azzi—because I—I love you so much baby. And I’m sorry I didn’t realize as fast as you did. That I—"

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Paige’s she shook her head no slowly, her hands tightening around Paige’s waist. "It doesn’t matter. I promise I’m not going anywhere anymore."

…

It wasn’t the quiet moments that made them realize they were in love.

Not the nights tangled together in bed, whispering into the darkness, even when they weren’t officially anything.

Not the stolen glances or the lingering touches, the warmth of Azzi’s childhood bedroom where they figured themselves out.

Not the laughter, the tenderness, or the countless times they looked at each other like they held the entire world in their hands. When Paige dropped everything to be at Azzi’s side. When they’d wake up early and just smile at one another.

No—those were the moments they fell.

But this—this was when they knew.

It was in the arguments, in the breaking points. In the way their love made them reckless, made them desperate, made them vulnerable in ways they had never been before. It was in the fear, in the unbearable weight of knowing that the other had the power to destroy them completely.

Loving each other was never the risk. Letting themselves be loved back—that was.

But in the end, it was these moments—the raw, painful, necessary ones—that led them home to each other. That made it possible for them to be steady and completely content in one another when the attention started flying their way as they grew up.

[revelboo]

Hello! I hope you’re having a wonderful morning/evening/night! I have had jazzprowl fever for sometime and the posts of art I have been seeing all over tumblr ain’t helping- I was just curious if you would write a jazz x prowl x reader fluff/smut?

Only if you want to of course! Your writing is so good and I wish I had your skills ✨

-✨💜💫

Sure! 18+ Mass displaced mech 🌶️

JazzProwl One Shot Scenario

Jazz x Reader x Prowl

• “Aw, kitten. Prowler not treating you right?”Stiffening as Jazz returns and drapes himself against the corner of the desk, Prowl vents tiredly. Fairly sure that any hopes of getting actual work done just died a quick death. “Our poor little mate, bored and neglected while he ignores you. It’s too cruel.” Glaring when you snicker, he’s not at all surprised to find Jazz staring right at him, grinning. And he can’t even be too angry, because that crooked little smile is real instead of the fake one the saboteur usually wears. Relaxed when it’s just the three of you, able to drop his mask. Guilt twisting through him, Prowl grits his denta and looks away. Because he’d done that to Jazz. Seen that charming young musician on a street corner and weaponized that easy smile. Broken him.

• “Unlike some, I haven’t forgotten that we’re still at war,” Prowl grumbles, pointedly turning his attention back to his reports as his door wings lift. His charts and all important strategies. Attention dipping back to you, he smiles when you just shrug. As used to it as he is, but right now, he’s not in the mood for it. Smacking his palms on the desk, he’s mass shifting and leveraging himself up with you. Bending to grip your arms and tug you to your feet. And your soft laughter soothes his annoyance with Prowl when he spins you, singing softly to you. And the strategist is already annoyed, so he might as well have some fun.

• Laying your cheek against him as Jazz dances with you, spinning and dipping you until you’re giddy and dizzy. And his hands slide to your hips, hoisting you up onto a warm surface, insinuating himself between your thighs when he lays you back and upside down, you realize he’s pinned you against one of Prowl’s arms, the other bot scowling down at both of you. Servos rucking up the loose robe you’re wearing, Jazz groans. “Oh, doll, no underthings today?” Mouth coming down on yours, he rolls his hips against you, teasing you both. Can hear Prowl’s disgruntled rumbling as he scowls down at you both.

• “You couldn’t do that anywhere else?” Prowl snarls, watching Jazz free his spike and rock himself against you. And the spy just grins up at him before mouthing your throat to force your head back.Those eyes of yours staring up at him upside down, lips parted. ‘Prowl,’ you whine, the need in your voice spilling warm through him. ‘Reports aren’t going any-ah,” you moan when Jazz sheaths himself inside you and he’s half tempted to move his arm and dump the both of you. It’s only the fact that Jazz might fall on you and hurt you that keeps him still. Now fully focused on the two of you rutting on him, of your legs hooking around Jazz’s hips and the sounds the two you are making. “I hate you both,” he mutters without any real heat.

• “Can’t lie to me,” Jazz groans, hips pumping as his mouth brushes your cheek and jaw. “That’s right, kitten.” Feeling your soft hands on his helm, his neck as you move under him with a breathless cry. Aware of Prowl watching and that as annoyed as he might be, you’ll end sandwiched between them as they make love to you, to each other, tangled together and urgent. It’s always like that, like that very first time. And he can’t help it, reassuring himself again and again that this is his. He’s allowed this. That it’s not one more lie.

[alwaysanundertone]

high sex drive | poly! marauders x fem! reader

hurt/comfort + smut

TW: NSFW, piv, non-protected sex, oral (f/m receiving)

Sirius was drawing patterns on your thigh, the tips of his fingers grazing the supple skin there ever so slowly while his head rested on your belly. Your other two boyfriends were cuddling each other, they were all spent after coming many times, so why weren’t you?

You found every touch maddening, it didn’t make sense for you to be so wound up; it wasn’t like you hadn’t gotten off, because you had, and plenty of times.

The problem was your sex drive. Your desire wasn’t something that your ex boyfriends accepted, nor did they deem it normal, one of them even suggested to go see a sex therapist one time, and you did. The session failed to give you answers, and after some time you just gave up, resigning yourself to a life of not voicing your own needs.

It went good, as good as faking being satisfied would go, but it wasn’t that bad after all. With these guys, though, it was really difficult to just pretend.

“Love?”

You looked up, finding three pairs of eyes focused on you. “Mh?”

“Where did you go, dove? You’ve been awfully quiet. Sirius just asked you if you are hungry, we thought about ordering something, is pizza good?”

You refrained from blushing, hating the fact that you weren’t able to mask your true feelings even in a peaceful moment like that. “Sorry, I’ve just been lost in my own thoughts, I guess” You chuckled, sounding suspicious even to your own ears. “Pizza’s good, thank you”

You felt Sirius mouth closing over your inner thighs, its teeth piercing the supple skin there, making you gasp. “Come on, darling, you know you can tell us anything”

The thing was that every boyfriend you had started this conversation like this, telling you that it was okay, that he would have taken care of you, and then when they found out that they couldn’t change you, they’d start to call you a nympho, making you ashamed of yourself. So no, you weren’t sure you could tell them anything.

“You’re doing it again, love” James was looking at you through pleading eyes, it was really hard to resist him when he was acting like this, but you had to. The guys were the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and you weren’t willingly letting them go for something as stupid as your sex drive.

“Oh, uh” You blushed. “I think I’m just kind of tired, you know? Nothing crazy”

There was a moment of silence, then Remus spoke up. “This thing won’t work if you’re keeping stuff from us, dove. You have to understand the importance of trust, if you don’t want to talk about it now, fine, but at least tell us the main topic that’s bothering you so much you’re not even listening to us when we’re talking to you”

His words felt like a harsh slap to your cheek, bringing true tears to the surface, which you tried to fight against, to no avail.

“Sorry, I don’t want to bother you, I do trust you, it’s just-“

“Was sex too much? Were you unconfortable? You’ve been like this since we had sex, did we hurt you?”

Sirius sounded horrified, and you couldn’t help the words that tumbled out of your mouth, you had to fix this.

“No, no it’s quite the opposite actually” They were all looking at you expectantly, you sighed. “It’s just- I have a high sex drive, okay? And I hate it, I know it’s twisted and disgusting and not right but I need to get off multiple times a day and sometimes having sex worsens the situation because then I keep wanting more and I hate it, you evet got me off so many times I’m the worst girlfriend ever.” Now that the words were comung out of your mouth, you couldn’t seem to stop them. “And I’ve been to sex therapists but they don’t know how to turn this off and just- I’m so sorry you’re probably regretting even-“

“Do not finish that sentence for the love of God”

You furrowed your brows. “Sirius what-“

“No, I should be the one saying sorry, I’ve been torturing you for the past hour and I didn’t even notice it.”

“And you’re not disgusting” James piped in.

“Dove, it’s nothing crazy, we can just-“

“No you can’t fix it.” You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth even if you tried, years of shame weighting you down. “Every ex that I had told me that they could fix it but it just doesn’t go away and I know it’s a burden” You pressed your hands to your face, hating this situation and hating yourself even more for letting it happen.

“Dove, would you please let us finish?” You nodded, your hands firmly locked in place. “Okay, I was trying to say that you can tell us if you’re needy and we’ll be really happy to help. There’s three of us, and if we aren’t available, there are your toys, you know? I don’t know what douchebags you dated, but this would never be a burden to us” His eyes were pleading you to believe him, and you found yourself wanting to.

“I think it’s anything but a burden, darling” You blushed slightly at Sirius, who was now laying on his belly, his head hovering right above your centre. You squirmed unconfortably, he smirked at you. “I’m being mean, aren’t I? Hovering just above you, so close yet so out of touch” His lips were now grazing your earlobe, making you shiver head to toe, the movement of his hands on your inner thigh maddening. “Such a pretty little thing, so flustered, what do you want now, love?”

You tried to tell him, but being vocal about your needs was something you weren’t used to, especially after years of slut shaming in your past relationship. You tried to avoid his question, wriggling your hips. “You know what I want”

He tsked. “No, I don’t. Do you want my mouth?” He lightly kissed you above your panties and shorts, making you grunt. “Mh, interesting. Maybe it’s my fingers that you want?” He caressed your nipples over the thin fabric of your -James’s- shirt. “My cock?”

The moment was interrupted by a pornographic grunt, coming from a very flustered James. “Fuck that’s so hot” He palmed his dick over his boxer briefs, making you blush.

“Look at him, darling, you’re making him needy. I think we should give him a show.”

You whimpered. “Sirius, please”

“I can give you everything you want, love. Just ask me”

You swallowed your pride. “I want your mouth, please”

He tutted. “Where do you want it? Here?” He grazed your forehead, the slightest touch sending you ablaze with need.

“No, Sirius, fuck, I want it on my pussy, please eat me out, I’m begging you” You couldn’t recognize your own voice, it sounded breathy, restrained, too close to begging.

“Gladly, darling” He pushed your shorts down, ripping the soft fabric of your panties in two. You didn’t have time to complain, his mouth immediately landing right on your clit.

His tongue started massaging the little bud, making you gasp as he flicked it repeatedly, moaning while doing so.

“You’re so wet, darling, I’m kind of mad, you know? You were really trying to keep this from me, from us” You shivered as you felt his index finger teasing your hole slowly, making you arch your back.

As he entered you, Remus was right above you, his dick in his hand, stroking your cheek with his free one. “Open up, dove, make me feel good”

He didn’t have to ask twice, your mouth opening right as Sirius thrusted into you with his fingers. “Fuck, she’s so wet James, fuck the show come here”

Suddenly, all three of your boyfriends were on you, James lining the crown of his cock at your entrance as Sirius lips closed right on your clit, sucking on it hardly. You felt one of Remus’s hands right over your right nipples, pinching it slightly, making you arch your back.

Your head was spinning, you felt awfully close to orgasming. “Fuck, love if you squeeze me like that I won’t last”

“That’s fine” Sirius piped in. “That’s why there’s three of us, to keep her satisfied” He tutted as you tried to close your thighs. “That isn’t nice now love, is it? Keep them open for us, stay still”

You loved when he was mean during sex, loved how he made you feel like you were at his mercy. “Sirius, close, god”

He chuckled. “You’re already coming, aren’t you? You’ve been such a good girl, telling us what you need, I think you deserve to come” You felt Remus’s cock swelling in your mouth, you rushed to swallow every drop of him, trying to focus on it, but it was difficult when you had two of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen between your thighs.

“Come now, darling. Be a good girl and come for us”

It was all it took for you to explode, your mouth wide open, eyes shut as you gripped Sirius head with all your force. He wasn’t complaining, though, still lapping at you, while James got off inside of you, his thrust loosing force and rhythm.

Just as you were coming down from your high, you felt another cock probing at your entrance.

“What…”

“Hush, love, I think you got one more in you, don’t you?”

You weren’t able to respond, your long-haired boyfriend immediately started rutting into you, his hips hitting the back of your thighs at a punishing rhythm.

“You’re so hot, fuck” The sounded that came out of you were pornographic, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, you could already tell that this orgasm was going to shake you thoroughly.

All you could manage to do, to say, was chant your boyfriends’ name like a prayer.

“Come on now, dove, give us another” Remus leaned down to kiss you, his tongue caressing yours, you couldn’t help but moan in his open mouth.

You obliged, drenching Sirius’s cock as your brain completely shut down. You could feel your boyfriend coming inside of you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself down to Earth.

You found yourself in a hot tub, James massaging your shoulders behind you while Remus stood kneeling outside of it, rubbing your feet.

“How do you feel? Good?”

You hummed, looking up at your long-haired boyfriend, your hand reaching up caress his face.

“Really, love? Me and Remus are both cuddling you, and it’s him you reward?” James’s tone had no bite in it, still you reached your other hand behind his head, scratching his scalp.

“Hey, it’s me who ate her out, it’s only fair, really” He winked at you.

There was a bit of silence, then you felt Remus hands wondering up your thighs.

“What-“

He smiled at you. “I think I can get another one out of you, just relax against Jamie and let me do the work”

You moaned lightly, nuzzling against your boyfriend’s toned chest, wondering what you’ve done to deserve them.

[rjalker]

[ID 1: A screenshot of tags that read, "There's bamboo native the the united states? hello? Is this gonna turn into a research thing like inneskeeper's soy sauce saga, either way this sis some of the most information of all time". End ID 1.]

[ID 2: Three photos of river cane, showing lower down near the grond, then the middle, and then the camera pointed up to show the tops. The river cane has straight, narrow stems like other bamboos, mostl dark green, with light brown of old, dried leaves. The ground below is covered in dead leaves. In the last photo, the cane stretch high above the camera into the blue sky. End ID 2.]

[ID 3: A screenshot of a reply by motherfucking-dragons, asking, "What is the endangered pitcher plant?" this is followed by a photo of the Alabama canebreak pitcherplant, which has very pale green and yellow tube shaped leaves facing up into the sky, some tinged with red. End ID 3.]

[ID 4: Another photo of the river canebreak, showing the tall plants from the middle at eyelevel. They grow densely packed, with the ground covered in the dried leaves. End ID 4.]

[ID 5: Three photos. The first shows a collection of rivercane seeds on a black surface. They are dark, dull green or brown, and and shaped like tiny cobs of corn, most of them attached to eachother in staggered rows on their original stems. The next photo shows one of the seeds held in a dirt covered hand, light brown and germinating with a small white root emerging. The third photo shows the seed forming its first tiny shoot above soil. End ID 5.]

[ID 6. A photo of several dozen assorted small plant pots, each with one or two river cane seedlings growing in them. The seedlings are very thin, with short, grassy leaves. Some of the plant pots are traditional starter posts, other are plastic cups. End ID 6.]

[ID 7. A photo from above of a young rivercane plant with three shoots, showing healthy green leaves, while in the background the ground is covered in dead maple leaves from fall. End ID 7.]

____

hey, I didn't realize this plant was a big deal, there's a ton near us. So if you want to really easy way to clone it... Put a plant pot with big holes in the bottom near it, and wait for it to send a shoot up through the bottom of the plant pot and into the air. Let it grow for a while and then cut off the root connecting the pot to the ground.

This has happened multiple times completely by accident.

If it works the same way as our purple passionflowers, which are also native, then you can probably just move that pot somewhere else and it will once again grow roots through the ground and then you have more clones. And how to tell both of them apart from the invasive bamboos.

I got a photo a while ago of a massive clump from across a creek, and I would like to know if it's the native or invasive kind:

[ID: Two photos of a bamboo plant from a distance. The first shows very long, thin canes with small green leaves. The second is zoomed out, with a hand shielding the camera from the sun's glare at the top, showing a massive cluster of the bamboo hanging down over the side of a creek at the bottom of a hill. End ID.]

I can probably get better pictures of it this year.

Someone needs to go on iNaturalist and hyperfixate about identifying this genus

Update several hours later: We now have clones of three different plants from our general area and tomorrow I'll go out and get clones from two more I know of. Still not sure if they're actually river cane (Arundinaria gigantea) or switch cane (Arundinaria tecta).

Edit again: helpful site for identifying 3 of the different native species

y'all ever reach the end of google

[tinyluvs]

⁺‧₊˚ tentacles 𖤐 rain&dewdrop ˚₊‧⁺

❥ summary; rain and dewdrop’s tentacles come out to play :)))) ❥ warnings; t4t raindrop, tentacles, dew has one, rain has two. cunt, pussy, clit, folds, dick, used for their anatomy, tentacles are girls, so they’re referred to accordingly with fem pronouns ❥ authors note; i hate this n i’m sick so, probably not the best ❥ wc; 2.8k ₊˚⊹♡⁺‧₊˚𖤐 read on ao3; ˗ˏˋ ꒰꒰ here !! ꒱꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𖤐˚₊.⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it’s late into the night when dewdrop roughly types out a text to rain. she wants to play, is all it says but rain will know what he means by that and while he doesn’t really expect rain to be awake at three in the morning, he has to try, he’s desperate 

she has been keeping him awake for hours, writhing around frantically beneath the surface of his skin and forcing pools of slick to soak through his boxers. the problem dewdrop has is, she’s picky, fussy, won’t come out for him ninety nine percent of the time. she wants rain. 

within seconds his phone buzzes lightly against his pillow and something in dew’s stomach twists. checking his phone confirms what he already knows, rain is awake. sure, he’s only sent that thumbs up emoji dewdrop hates but now is not the time to lecture rain on how sarcastic one little emoji can look, he’s, she’s, desperate 

it’s not long before rain is slipping into dewdrop’s room, minutes if that, sending streaks of light from the hallway across the darkened room, “hey,” rain whispers as he locks the door behind him. he sounds desperate too, dewdrop notices, like he’s been waiting for this as well 

“c’mere,” dewdrop whines, one of his hands doing a silly grabby motion at the water ghoul while his other hand disappears down under the waistband of his boxers, his fingers slipping over his stiff clit which is bathed in slick

rain chuckles lightly as he, sort of, hops across the room, shoving his pyjama pants down his legs as he goes. he knows the drill, there’s no point in wasting time. once he’s only clad in his boxers, a pair that look suspiciously like dew’s, only then does he clamber onto the bed 

dewdrop’s thighs fall apart almost instantly, letting rain settle his body between them, “she being picky?” rain asks, still hushed and low given the early hour, as he presses kisses to dewdrop’s jaw. he doesn’t really have to ask though, he can already feel the damp spot on dew’s boxers through his own 

“uh huh,” dewdrop whines and sinks his fingers into the silky soft skin over rain’s hipbones, stretched tight and sensitive underneath the prick of dew’s claws, “make her come out,” he all but begs, too driven with need to care about how pathetic he sounds 

“yeah, okay,” rain sighs, hovering to brush his nose against dewdrop’s for a second before smushing their lips together and then, he starts to wiggle down the bed, peppering kisses over the fire ghouls ribcage as he goes, right over the scarred remnants of his gills 

before rain has even managed to get comfortable between dewdrop’s thighs, the fire ghoul is rolling his hips up and shoving his boxers down just enough for rain to pull them the rest of the way off, dropping them down the side of dew’s bed for him to find in the morning 

there’s a slick wet sound when dewdrop parts his thighs again, spreading his pussy inches away from rain’s face. he’s pretty, his dusky little cock peeks out between his folds and he’s completely drenched in his own slick

“can see her,” rain comments, eyes focused on the smooth patch of skin just under dew’s clit where, beneath the surface, his tentacle is wriggling, threatening to come out 

dew’s fingers thread through rain’s hair, “make her come out,” he repeats, punched out words leaving his mouth as he tries to tug rain closer to where he wants him but rain simply blows a stream of cold air over his cunt, “rain,” he whines with a shiver

ideally rain would take his time, coax her out slowly but neither her, or her owner, seem to be willing to wait any longer than they have to. the skin holding her back has thinned enough to prove dew has been trying to get her out for a while already and rain isn’t mean enough to make him wait 

“c’mon then,” rain whispers and leans in to kiss dewdrop’s clit, leaving his lips coated in slick, “c’mon pretty girl,” he whispers again, though his tone shifts, getting lower as he talks to her 

dewdrop’s tentacle writhes, pressing hard against the membrane standing between her and her favourite ghoul, who is not the one she belongs to. rain gently pets at where she’s hidden, biting on his bottom lip as he focuses 

“she knows,” dewdrop pants, the rest of his sentence failing to come out as his back arches a little under rain’s gentle touch, “she k-knows it’s you,” he tries again, whining high and reedy 

rain can’t help but smile, “she always does,” he sounds a little smug but he’s earned it, dewdrop can’t chew him out for it, “y��gonna come see me?” he asks, her, not dew 

there’s a moment of silence, both ghouls holding their breath in anticipation as dewdrop’s body finally seems to give way, the tiniest little slit starting to spread, “s-she’s, fuck, she’s coming,” dew cries, his fingers tightening in rain’s hair 

“i kn- oh,” rain gasps, his body jerking a bit as dewdrop’s tentacle forces her way out with a splash that drips over rain’s neck and chest, “there she is,” rain coos over the moan rumbling out of dewdrop 

she’s shorter than she once was, thinner too. the transition dewdrop went through took away most of what she was, slippery and pearlescent, covered in little suckers now reduced to scales that are reminiscent of burnt embers, dark on the surface with a glowing orange hidden underneath 

rain thinks she’s gorgeous, dewdrop would argue that she’s not but he never wins. she seeks rain out almost immediately, her few inches curling around his fingers in excitement, she’s missed him 

“feel better?” rain mumbles, to dew this time, though his attention is still on his cunt. gentle scales rub against his fingers and it sort of tickles, he can’t help but chuckle 

dewdrop sighs, content finally, “yeah, c’mere,” he huffs, pulling on rain’s hair to try and get him back up the bed. rain grunts but goes, leaving his hand between dewdrop’s thighs as he flops down on his side next to the fire ghoul

subconsciously, rain’s thighs press together, no subtlety in his obvious arousal for the situation in front of him and the way dewdrop is grinding his hips to push his cunt further against his hand really isn’t helping 

“yours comin’ out to play?” dewdrop asks him through a soft pant, his head rolling to the side on his pillow to look at rain through long lashes, “she wants them,”

rain gives a short nod and retracts his hand from between dew’s thighs, ignoring the whine that catches in the back of dewdrop’s throat so he can undress himself the rest of the way, his boxers joining dew’s on the floor 

“both of them?” rain asks and dew’s stomach swoops low as it’s his turn to nod. it’s not unheard of for water ghouls to have two tentacles but it is extremely rare. somehow it makes sense that rain is one of the ghouls who managed to get lucky 

it’s rarer that his tentacles are better behaved than most too, loyal to their owner and his needs, unlike dewdrop’s fussy little princess. so, as dew pulls one of rain’s thighs over his stomach, spreading rain open and exposing him, the twin set of tentacles in his body seem to get the message 

“fuh-ck, they’re right there,” dew moans as he snakes his fingers down between rain’s legs, tips pressing right under rain’s little clit where he can feel both tentacles waiting patiently, not writhing around frantically like his was 

rain pants a short, uh huh, as he reaches back down to dew’s pussy, still soaked and slicked up enough for rain to rub tantalisingly slow circles over his clit, aided by dew’s tentacle twisting around his fingers 

the speed in which rain’s body submits is almost annoying to dewdrop as he feels the telltale little slit starting to thin and form underneath his fingers, “they’re coming?” dewdrop half tells and half asks rain

“shi-, yeah,” rain whimpers and his eyes flutter shut. his fingers still over dewdrop as he takes a second to concentrate on the feeling, the desperate urge to suddenly have them out weighs on him as he bares down, until

the flood of slick that splashes over everything, always makes both ghouls jump. double the tentacles somehow means double the slick, so, as rain’s girls surge from his body, his thighs, dew’s hand, forearm and his bed, all get soaked in the process 

“fuck rainy,” dewdrop moans, they both do, as his drenched hand gets, gently, attacked by two sets of suckers, latching onto anything they can find, “pretty girls,” 

and they are, they’re both long, thick at their bases and thinner at their tips. they’re a pretty pearlescent colour that reflects pastel pinks and blues and both littered with suckers that can, and will, attach themselves to anything 

dewdrop wrangles them into his fist, sliding the length of them and back down, almost jerking them off and rain keens, his hips stuttering forwards to push his tentacles further through dew’s loose fist 

“come here,” rain chokes through a moan and paws at dewdrop, softly handling his body until dew’s back is pressed flat to rain’s chest, “let me, them, fuck you, please,” he huffs a hot breath over dew’s shoulder 

whatever swooped low in dew’s stomach earlier, does it again, the intensity of it has multiplied though, “yea-, fuck, yeah let ‘em,” he groans, bumping his ass back towards rain, thighs spread and cunt exposed, willing and ready 

having two tentacles makes rain’s job too easy, they’re stacked one on top of the other, joined at the base inside of rain’s body. so, the one on top, closest to dewdrop worms it’s way forwards, slipping between the fire ghouls folds 

the one on the bottom, closest to rain’s drippy little hole, goes right there, curling itself downwards so the tip can circle around his entrance teasingly. they’re well behaved, not perfect 

rain’s hand slips along the back of dew’s thigh, holding it up just enough for his tentacle to explore, “o-oh fuck,” dewdrop grunts, his chin to his chest so he can watch his own tentacle excitedly twisting around rain’s, a filthy press of scales to suckers 

“y-yeah,” is all rain manages to reply, his jaw clenching and teeth pressing together because he can feel everything. the warmth and wetness of dew’s pussy, the harsh slip of scales against his tentacle and then his own cunt, his hole clenching around nothing as his tentacle continues to tease at it, never dipping past the surface 

neither ghoul really wants to take much more teasing but it’s dewdrop who moves first. his hand shoots down between his legs, fingers separating his tentacle from rain’s, “i need it, so bad, just fuck me,” he pants, guiding rain’s tentacle back to where his body is leaking copious amounts of slick

slowly, and at the same time, both of rain’s tentacles push in. one pressing into dew’s body and one into his own, both surrounded by wet, searing heat, “fuck, it’s tight,” rain groans, his head tipping back. whether he’s talking about him or dewdrop is unclear, they’re both tight 

his tentacles seem to hear him and though he has little, to no, control over them, they both seem to get thicker, stretching both ghouls out nicely as they venture deeper, their suckers clinging to all the soft spots neither of them can reach on their own 

“you’re s’big,” dewdrop moans wantonly, his head tipping back onto rain’s chest. he stares up at the water ghoul, who’s panting and squeezing hard at his thigh, “kiss me,”

normally, dewdrop wouldn’t ask for anything, he’d just take but he’s already too far gone to make the effort. he just pouts and tips his chin up, hoping that rain takes the hint 

and he does. rain grunts through gritted teeth as his tentacle buried deep inside of dewdrop presses deeper, right up against the fire ghouls cervix, “could slip right in, you know,” rain murmurs as he presses his lips to dew’s, silencing the whimper he was half way through

it’s a messy kiss, their lips barely touching before they part and rain’s tongue is pressing against dew’s. rain’s hand leaves dew’s thigh, sliding up his body to wrap around his neck, not really squeezing, just holding him still so rain can take, and take, and take 

dewdrop’s hand shoots down his own body at the same time, his fingers slipping over his little dick quickly and in turn, he clenches down, tighter around rain, making the water ghoul moan into his mouth 

“m’not gonna last long,” rain manages to huff between kisses. it’s not exactly a secret, neither of them ever last very long once their tentacles come out to play, dewdrop usually tips over the edge faster than he does though 

rain’s tentacle, the one buried to the hilt inside of himself, mirrors the one inside of dew as they both start to pull out, to the tips, only to fuck straight back into the holes they’re preoccupied with, “shit, me neither,” dew finally whimpers when rain pulls away to moan

both of their stomachs wind tight as slick wet sounds fill the darkened room. every movement of rain’s tentacle drawing more slick from both of their cunts until they’re dripping wet, soaking large spots into dew’s sheets

a particularly harsh press of the tip of rain’s tentacle to the soft little spot inside of him, makes dewdrop frantic, his need to cum rushing to the forefront of his mind, “rain-y, make me cum, please, make me cum on her,” he rambles as his body writhes in rain’s grasp 

the sudden desperation does everything for rain, his own stomach twisting as heat licks at his nerve endings, “f-fuck, yeah, okay, m’trying,” he grunts, willing his tentacles to do all the work for him as he shoves his hips forwards against dew 

they’re reduced to soft pants, soft ah, ah, ah’s, as rain’s girls do their job. they continue to mirror each other, speeding up and curling deep inside of each ghoul, forcing their suckers to softly pinch and pull at too sensitive skin 

dewdrop starts to fuck back onto rain, jerked movements of his hips that make rain grunt, his head hanging to watch dew moving over his tentacle, “she’s getting fatter,” dewdrop points out, only knowing that’s the case as his cunt is stretched wider 

he’s not wrong though, both of them have doubled in thickness, alerting both ghouls to rain’s impending orgasm, if the stream of moans flowing from his mouth weren’t enough for that

“shush, i’m trying to wait, for you,” rain whimpers, tensing his stomach tight to try and hold it off. his hand slides over dewdrop’s hip, his fingers joining dew’s at his fat little clit, both of them rubbing and circling over the sensitive skin 

rain’s thumb rubs at the scales on the underside of dewdrop’s tentacle and that seems to do it. the fire ghouls pussy flutters around rain at an alarming speed, “gon-, oh shi-, she’s gonna make me cum,” dewdrop whines and starts to nod, his wet fingers intertwining with rain’s 

“cum, now, with me, droplet,” rain cries as his orgasm starts to pull through his body, both of his tentacles almost splashing in and out of them both with how wet they are and within seconds, dewdrop follows suit 

they cry out, loud enough to wake up everyone in the abbey as rain’s tentacles pulse inside of their clenched cunts, flooding both of them with thick warm slick until they’re spent and falling limp, almost slipping from their bodies 

dewdrop’s tentacle pulses feebly, a thick string of slick dripping from her, over both ghoul’s hands and onto the sheets, joining the already large puddle that’s formed under both of their bodies 

“m’tired,” dewdrop mumbles once the post orgasm haze has settled heavy in his mind. his body goes lax, his weight pressing back into rain, who rolls them onto their backs

“fuck dew,” rain chuckles, brushing his soaked thumb over dew’s knuckles. he brings them up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to each one, ignoring the slick that covers his lips once more, “gotta change the sheets,” he cringes as cold wet fabric sticks to his skin 

before either of them can move though, they gasp “oh,” and shudder as rain’s tentacles slip free, retreating partially back into their owners body

finally, dewdrop rolls to face rain, a lazy, sleepy, smile on his face as he leans in to press an open mouthed kiss to the centre of rain’s throat, “or, we can sleep in your bed and change the sheets later,” he murmurs 

rain chuckles, “yeah, okay but you’re paying me back” he grunts as he tries to move, the sensitivity between his thighs making him hiss slightly 

“pay you back? pay them back,” dewdrop frowns playfully as he gestures to rain’s tentacles, “they did all the work, they’re good girls,”

dewdrop just smirks as rain shivers at his words, his mind swimming with possibilities to pay his favourite girls back for their hard work

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! & comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah! send prompts to my ask box!

lemme know if there’s mistakes, i’m too ill to look right now ♡

𖤐 ghouls masterlist

[saturnbellfromhell]

RANDOM ASTRO OBSERVATIONS

Welcome back! I hope you relished my roasting series as much as I did. I can’t wait to create another one and laugh all over again. But for now, we’re returning to the heart of my account—my favorite kind of post. I love observing the people around me and capturing the psychological traits they all seem to share. I'm excited to see all of your feedback and hope you enjoy reading this post as much as I loved creating it! So let's begin, shall we...

▫️CAPRICORN SUN

I believe the perfect match for a Capricorn is an incredible Scorpio. Both signs carry a certain darkness and mystery, each in their own unique way. They share a sharp edge, a love for a little cynicism, and a reputation for being pessimistic—when in reality, they’re just deeply realistic. They both understand the isolating feeling of being surrounded by people yet still feeling alone. They’re keenly aware of how time can crawl and race all at once. More than anything, they need a partner who will stand by them unwaveringly—someone who would go to the ends of the earth for them.

They have a deep love for all animals, but while they may get along well with dogs, I believe Capricorns are naturally more drawn to cats. They appreciate the quiet companionship of a solitary, independent creature rather than one that is constantly energetic and demanding. A cat’s reserved yet loyal nature aligns perfectly with a Capricorn’s own sense of self.

Capricorns may sometimes be seen as boring—after all, they prioritize stability and practicality—but beneath that exterior lies a wise, spiritual, and introspective soul. They crave meaningful connections, thoughtful conversations, and depth that go beyond surface-level interactions. Shallow exchanges bore them; they seek substance, authenticity, and a bond that truly resonates.

▫️AQUARIUS SUN

Another Saturn-ruled sign, but this time with a more high-spirited and free-spirited nature than our dear Capricorn. What I find so amusing is that every Aquarius I know seems almost indifferent to their own birthday—not in a sad or melancholic way, but with a casual, “Oh, thanks, I guess” kind of attitude. It’s as if they view celebrations of themselves as unnecessary, yet they’ll happily go all out for others.

Aquarius and Capricorn have an undeniable pull toward each other. Capricorns admire Aquarius’s visionary mind, while Aquarius respects Capricorn’s quiet strength and determination. Though they approach life differently, they both share a deep sense of independence and an appreciation for intellect, making their bond very close.

▫️MOON IN 12th HOUSE

There’s so much to unpack in this observation. Highly psychic, intuitive, and almost otherworldly, they navigate the unseen realm as if it were their personal gateway to deeper self-awareness. They don’t just sense energy—they absorb it, making them incredibly empathetic yet easily drained by those who feel too "normal" or disconnected from the deeper layers of existence. Their intuition is sharp; they can read a room and spot a bad vibe from miles away. It’s less of a skill and more of a knowing.

Life for them rarely feels steady—there’s always another transformation, another shift, making a "normal" week or year feel almost impossible.

With the Moon in the 12th house, isolation isn’t just a preference—it becomes a necessary refuge, a way to process the overwhelming energies they absorb. It’s not just about wanting to be alone; it’s about needing to retreat to protect their own spirit. However, their biggest lesson is learning when to disconnect—stepping away before they become completely drained. If they fall into the trap of constant people-pleasing, they risk deeper isolation and, eventually, emotional exhaustion. To truly thrive, they must prioritize their own energy just as much as they do for others.

They are the empaths of society, the caregivers, the spiritual teachers, the mothers, the fathers, and much more. They are all of the above wrapped up. They have lived and outlived many lives before choosing this one. Always on a journey to complete an invisible mission.

▫️CANCER MOON

Often looked down upon for their love of solitude, these individuals are actually some of the most comforting souls to exist. They don’t ask for much—just a cozy room, dim lighting, and a lover by their side. You can already picture the kind of person they are: someone who finds joy in life’s simplest pleasures. They appreciate good food, tend to be naturally sleepy, and have a soft spot for people who are often misunderstood by others.

They’re always eager to help when needed, but when overstimulated, their mood shifts quickly—becoming grumpy, distant, or even off-putting. And when deeply hurt, they may resort to manipulation or cunning behavior. Angels become devils quickly if not attended to correctly.

▫️NEPTUNE IN THE 11th HOUSE

Neptune, the planet that embodies Piscean energy, isn’t concerned with reality. Instead, it drifts into dreams and the abyss. In your birth chart, Neptune reveals the areas where clarity can become clouded over time, where rose-colored glasses are often worn, distorting one’s perception. When Neptune resides in the 11th house, the realm of groups and friendships, it can make it difficult to see situations clearly, especially when it comes to choosing friends.

Those with this placement often find themselves losing friends, trusting too easily, or losing their sense of self in their relationships. They tend to see the best in others, which can lead to heartbreak when they realize too late that their trust was misplaced. What’s right in front of them can go unnoticed, and by the time the truth reveals itself, it’s often already too late. Keep a steady eye when having this placemnet. Sometimes, your biggest enemy is sitting right next to you.

▫️LIBRA SUN

Libras can be seen as the “popular girl” who effortlessly draws attention without needing to try too hard, unlike a Leo who thrives on being the center of the spotlight. They naturally shine, but they don’t need to vocalize or flaunt it—there's a quiet confidence to them. Their need to always appear at their best can sometimes come off as superficial or a bit fake, creating a sense of distance. However, what many overlook about Libra is the deeper, darker energy they carry beneath the surface—something that often remains hidden.

What you see with a Libra is typically what you get—99% of the time. They rarely let anyone see the depths of who they truly are. While their gorgeous exterior and enthusiastic demeanor attract many, most people don’t stick around long enough to see past the façade. Though they draw the interest of signs like Scorpio, Cancer, and Capricorn, these connections often fall short of the emotional depth and loyalty they seek.

Capricorns, for instance, are always a bit wary and never fully trust a Libra. There’s something about them that just doesn’t sit right, though they can’t quite pinpoint it. Cancers, on the other hand, may feel neglected and unappreciated, often leaving when they sense their efforts to care for Libra aren’t reciprocated. Scorpios, despite their initial attraction, get frustrated with Libra’s seemingly indifferent attitude—an attitude that, deep down, they know is a mask for vulnerability and insecurity. Though all three signs can sense the hidden layers, they often end up walking away when they realize they’re not getting the emotional connection they hoped for.

▫️MOON IN THE 8th HOUSE

Moon in the 8th house holds immense power, one that can be both a gift and a challenge. People with this placement have the potential to undergo profound transformations, constantly evolving and reshaping themselves. However, these transformations are rarely easy. They often come through deep emotional upheaval, and navigating these intense shifts can be draining and difficult.

The 8th house Moon individuals are deeply connected to the unseen and unconscious realms, making them highly sensitive to emotions, often to the point of becoming overwhelmed. If they don't learn to channel their emotional depth constructively, they can become disconnected from their true selves and find it hard to navigate their inner world.

Because they feel so much and often don’t have the tools or outlets to process these intense emotions, they can fall into coping mechanisms like substance abuse as a way to numb the emotional overload. This is especially true if the individual’s emotional needs are neglected, and the heavy energy of transformation becomes too much to bear. Without support, people with this placement can become trapped in their own emotional cycles.

However, when these individuals do unlock the potential of their Moon in the 8th house, they have an incredible ability to heal themselves and others. Their emotional depth can lead to profound self-awareness, transformation, and even a powerful ability to guide others through their own emotional challenges. The key is self-acceptance and learning how to process those intense emotions in healthy ways, avoiding the temptation to numb them.

As always, thank you for being here. Sending lots of love!

xoxo NK❤️

[theallianceofcelestials]

Can i get a drabble of SEA KC snuggling Eclipse and these two cuddling pretty please?

Just some Father-son affection for my poor sentimental soul❤️‍🩹

And then you want to bite my man. Do you even deserve the drabble? /silly

Also congratulations, you get an entire story before the cuddling because my brain needs a reason for the cuddles to happen

It's been a really long day Eclipse thinks as he shambles back into his room, barely standing on his feet. It's been a very, very long day

Luckily, he's got the entire room to himself because the family left for-

"Before you decide to flop into the nest do take a shower please"

And then he promptly jumps because Killcode's somehow fucking there.

Eclipse glares, but then stops when it finally registers to him just what state his father is in.

He's bundled in the blankets, looking miserable, holding a cup of tea and somehow managing to give the feeling of a stuffed, red nose.

"The hell happened to you?"

"It appears-" and he's cut off with a sneeze that startles him from the simple loudness of it "appears that I've caught a cold"

What the actual fuck?

"You can do that?"

The effect of the disapproving frown is lost when Killcode begins to rapidly take in air for his next sneeze, only to immediately transition into coughing.

"I'll be back in a sec"

He rushes quickly into the bathroom, because he clearly needs to take care of his father right now. Why did the rest of the family leave him alone?

He's done with his shower in record time, basically jumping into his pants so he can rush back out the door before the idiot nightmare can start doing something like cooking. Knowing him, he'd totally try to.

"Don't you even fucking dare leave the nest! Back in there!"

The startled SCP crawls back under the covers, until only his glowing red optics are visible. He looks like a kicked puppy, and not like the ancient being he is.

"I'm making you soup! Now stay there or I'm tattling on you to Sun!"

That's a proficient enough threat apparently, because his father stays in the nest for the duration of his soup making. He doesn't even dare to poke his head back out.

Might just be because he's that sick

"Here, eat this. If it doesn't feel good just tell me, you don't have to eat it all"

The sad miserable whine is only somewhat for show he thinks as large clawed hands reach for the comically small bowl, pulling it into the darkness where it disappears. After some slurping noises, the empty bowl is presented to him. He takes it with a sigh.

"Now scoot over"

"No"

"No?"

"You'll get sick..."

He sighs again, already looking towards the ceiling for patience.

"Killcode, I'm an animatronic. I can't get sick"

There's a second of quiet, then

"Oh, right"

And then the giant, sad pile of blankets is shuffling over, making him space. Eclipse takes it gladly, finally collapsing into the bed.

It's great. He's happy to be lying here. But he needs something else.

So he shimmies over until he can throw his arms and legs over the sad Killcode pile, burrowing into the warmth the SCP seems to exclude. He seems warmer than usual. Does he have a fever?

There's a bit of sad, miserable moaning, but then a large arm wraps around him, and pulls him under the blankets.

He melts into the contact, feeling his systems come alive in a happy purr he knows soothes the giant, burrowing his face into the large neck. His wraps his arms around the closest metal surface to himself and squeezes.

That familiar head nuzzles into his rays, and he's going to excuse the stressed nibbling on them as the SCP suffering because of his sickness, but he does slap at what he can now feel is a large side.

"Stop eating my rays"

The whine he gets might make someone believe he genuenly hurt him somehow, and didn't just ask him to please keep his saliva to himself. It makes him begin to pull away.

"Noooooo"

In a chidish move he didn't expect from his father he pulls him against his chest, trapping him against the hot metal. He even rolls over him, just so he can't escape.

"Get off of me!"

Killcode whines again, going limp. He only moves to pet and occasionally nuzzle him

Eclipse just sighs, settling in for a night of cuddling

[thewritingrowlet]

The Road Back to You, ft. tripleS Lee Jiwoo

tags: creampie, (light) daddy kink, rekindled love

length: almost 6k words

author's note: well, here it is: one of the fics that was stuck in the WIP dungeon—have at it, you.

-

“The Cavendish Group says—oh my God, who is it?”

You look at your buzzing phone; Jiwoo’s mother is calling you. You take a few deep breaths to clear your mind before picking up the call.

“Good afternoon, this is Shin Hyunwoo,” you greet her.

“Hi, son—have you been well?”

“Yes, I have, madam. Is there anything I can help you with?”

The woman on the other side pauses for what feels like an eternity.

“It’s about Jiwoo,” she pauses again, “she’s… been quite ill for the past two weeks, and I thought maybe you should pay her a visit.”

Your heart races: you haven’t talked to Jiwoo for almost a year now ever since she walked out your door that one night, and the prospect of seeing the cause of your heartbreak is rather… unsettling.

“I know you’re busy, but if you have time, please consider visiting her.” You can hear the sincerity in her voice, and it’s getting difficult to say no. Your gaze is locked on the large monitor in front of you as you thoughtfully consider her mother’s words. Eventually, with a heavy sigh, you agree to see Jiwoo at her place.

“I’ll tell her you’ll be coming after you get off work.” You can hear the joy in her voice, and it’s getting difficult to calm your racing heart. Your gaze shifts to the window next to you, and reflected on its surface is your smiling face. Eventually, with a chuckle, you admit to yourself that you are indeed excited to see Jiwoo at her place.

-

You take exactly 6 deep breaths before knocking on Jiwoo’s apartment door. Initially, no answer is heard from the other side, but as you prepare to knock again, the door suddenly shifts.

“O-oppa, you’re… actually here…”

You offer her a tentative smile, unable to tell whether she’s excited to see you or not.

“Yes, I am—erm, your mother asked if I could visit you, so…” You trail off, hoping that Jiwoo will catch on. A smile of similar nature stretches over her face. “Please get inside, oppa.”

Jiwoo invites you to sit on the sofa with her, and after you’re seated, she asks for permission to rest her head on your shoulder for “old times sake.” With a smile on her face, you grant her that permission. “Thank you,” she mutters softly as she leans against you. Your eyebrows furrow when you feel her hot temple on your skin. “You’re that sick, baby?” Jiwoo pretends to have missed the endearment, biting her lower lip to stop herself from blushing. “Yes, oppa; it’s been pretty bad.”

You offer Jiwoo to rest her head on your thighs, and without saying a word, she takes you up on it. Not only that, but she also guides your hand towards her forehead. “Hm, hot,” you blurt. She nods slightly. “My head hurts too,” she complains, sighing deeply at the end. You bite your tongue slightly as you think whether you want to ask her this question in your head. “Ah, screw it.” The suddenness confuses Jiwoo. “Screw what, oppa?”

“Can I take you to the bedroom, baby?”

Jiwoo’s blinks rapidly; she hasn’t heard you say such a sentence in a long while, and now, merely minutes after your return, she hears it again, thus causing her cheeks to turn pink.

“Y-yes, oppa; p-please take me to the bedroom.”

Jiwoo nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck as you’re lifting her bridal-style to her room. “Mm, you still smell the same,” she comments. You chuckle a little. “I just keep buying the same perfume and cologne,” you say. She nods against your skin. “Don’t ever change them, please; I love the smell of you, oppa.” Your eyebrows rise; does Jiwoo realize she’s saying all this like she was still your girlfriend?

“Ah, whatever—not the time to think about it.”

You carefully lower Jiwoo onto her bed, and that is when she tightens her arms around your neck. “Don’t leave me—please, not again,” she begs. You sigh deeply. “What do you mean not again, Jiwoo-yah?” She looks at you in the eyes. “You know what I mean, oppa, so please don’t leave me, not when I need you most.” You sigh again. “You were the one who broke us up, sweetheart; I was just respecting your decision.”

Tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she feels the weight of regret of the decision that led to her stepping out of your door and, in turn, your life. “I-I was… reckless, to say the least—I-I’ve now realized that I can’t leave without you.” You stay silent, indirectly asking her to keep talking. “I’m so, so sorry for leaving you, oppa,” her eyes are shiny with unshed tears, “I should’ve been more patient, more understanding…”

It warms your heart that Jiwoo understands the significance of her decision to leave the relationship and is welcoming about your return. Before guilt overwhelms her, you throw her a lifebuoy in the form of a soothing touch of hand to her forehead. “Sweetheart, I think we’ve both learned our lessons—for now, let’s just focus on recovering.” She smiles slightly. “Please join me in bed, oppa.”

You slide onto the bed as she asks, spooning her from behind just like how you used to. “This is… so nice,” she sighs, seemingly in relief, “thank you for making time for me, oppa; I know you’re busy and all that.” You give her a soft peck to the back of her head. “You have a special place in my heart and mind, Jiwoo-yah—not to mention that your mom was quite good at persuasion.” Jiwoo giggles. “A chip of the old block, or something like that.”

-

Time ticks by as you spend a few hours spooning the sick woman, and now that your eyes are open again, you see that it’s quite dark outside the window.

“Jiwoo-yah,” you whisper softly, “I think we should find something to eat.” Jiwoo stretches languidly as she gets herself together. “What time is it?” You look at your watch. “Almost 9 p.m.” She exhales deeply. “Can we have food sent here, because I don’t feel like going out.” You ask what she wants to have. “Anything that’s warm like you.” Your heart jumps. “Warm like me, you say?” She nods with a smile. “Warm like you, oppa—that’s what I need right now.”

You quickly order some noodle soup for both of you. “Food will be here in around 20 minutes, sweetie, so please hang on.” Jiwoo places a hand on yours. “Thank you, oppa; I appreciate it.” Once again, you give her a peck to the back of her head. “The pleasure is mine, sweetie—thank you for welcoming me again.” She sighs deeply. “Can’t we just pretend like we never broke up?” Well, isn’t that a good question. “I don’t know, honestly. I mean we haven’t seen each other for almost a year.”

You spend the time cuddling the sick woman whose (literal) hotness gradually becoming a source of concern. Thankfully, however, you’ve received notification that the food has been delivered to her door, which means that she’ll soon be able to take her medicines and get some rest.

Jiwoo reluctantly lets you go from the embrace. “Come back quickly, oppa,” she begs, her voice barely above a whisper. You give her a nod before stepping out of the bedroom to get the food from the door. You prepare the noodle soup for her, opening the bowl-like container and putting a spoon in it.

You help Jiwoo sit and lean against the headboard to support her weak frame. “May I feed you?” She nods with a faint pink on her cheeks. You take a spoonful of only the soup for her to taste. “Is that good?” Jiwoo sighs. “Not as good as expected, but that’s probably because I’m ill.”

You tend to Jiwoo with utmost patient, feeding her carefully until she finishes her food—or not; she’s weakly pushing your hand away from her lips. “That’s enough food,” she says. It’s unfortunate that she’s calling it quit now that there’s only two spoonsful of noodle soup left. “Baby, finish it, please?” She turns her face away from you, signaling that she really doesn’t want it. “Okay, if you say so.”

You place the unfinished food on the bedside table and ask where her medicines are. “I don’t want them too.” You sigh. “Baby, please, I just want to help.” Realizing that she can’t counter-argue, Jiwoo points at the drawer of the bedside table. When you open it, you notice that she has only taken her medications twice. “You’ve been skipping your meds, baby?” Jiwoo doesn’t answer your question, and that is when you sigh for the nth time.

You carefully turn her face towards you. “Baby, what’s happening right now—you’ve been ill for almost two weeks, but you haven’t been taking your medicines.” A tear flows out onto her cheek. “I-I’m sorry, b-but I just… I haven’t been feeling so well recently, if you know what I’m saying.” You hesitantly reach to pet her head. “Will you please cooperate for now? I’ll walk out of your life again when you’ve gotten better.”

Jiwoo breaks down into tears. “A-are you listening to yourself, oppa? Y-you’re saying that you’ll leave me again—are you fucking serious?” You wipe her tears with your thumb. “Baby, that’s not what I was trying to say; I’m just saying that I need you to work with me so that you can fully recover.” She closes her eyes tightly before looking back at you. “A-alright, I-I’ll… I’ll cooperate—j-just promise that you won’t leave me after this.” You offer her some assurance that you’ll stay, and that is when Jiwoo signals that she’s willing to take her medicines.

You prepare her capsules and pills along with a glass of water. “Ready when you are, baby.” Jiwoo takes the medicines from your hands and quickly swallows them. “Are you happy now?” You shake your head. “I won’t be happy until you’re healthy again.” She chuckles. “Hard to please, as always,” she snarks. A flicker of hurt crosses your features, but you quickly shake it off; right now, Jiwoo’s health is more important than your feelings.

Jiwoo moves to lie down, facing away from you dismissingly. “I’ll be at the living room if you need me,” you say. You give her some soft pats on the thigh as you make to leave to give her space to rest. You stop at the door, hoping that she’ll call you to cuddle her to sleep, but it doesn’t look like she wants it. “Yeah, okay,” you mutter as you close the door behind you.

You take a few deep breaths after sinking your butt into the fluffy cushions of the sofa. “Jiwoo has taken her meds and is sleeping right now,” you send a text to her mother, notifying her of Jiwoo’s current condition. “Thank you, son,” she replies soon after, and with it, you close your eyes to get a taste of peace.

Just minutes into your slumber, you feel someone wrapping their arms around you from behind while placing their chin on the top of your head. “Hm? Are you okay, sweetie?” “No,” she answers weakly. “Cuddle, please?” You collect yourself and stand up from the sofa. “I’m sorry, I just thought maybe you needed some space.” Jiwoo bites her lip in uncertainty. “I thought so too, but I think it’d be better if you’re with me.”

You follow her back to the bedroom, lying down square on your back while Jiwoo puts her head on your chest. “I’m sorry for being difficult, oppa; you’re here to help, but I’m not playing along.” You pet her head softly while offering some assurance, denying her attempt at guilt-tripping herself. “I wish… we hadn’t broken up…” she trails off as she drifts to sleep.

-

-

Subtle taps on your stomach stir you awake, and through your half-open eyes, you see Jiwoo sitting in bed next to you with a bottle (that’s more akin to a jerrycan) in her hands. “Can I help you?” She nods as she brings the bottle closer to you. “Can you, erm, get me some water, please?” You rub your eyes to wake up and take the bottle from her. “Sure, baby.”

You arrive at the kitchen where the dispenser is—wait, what is that hanging on the fridge?

You free the folded paper from the magnet and read the content, noticing the frequent strikethroughs right away.

“Dear ex-boyfriend,” the letter starts. "Thank you for making the time to come here and take care of me. It means a lot to me that you still care about me, and I don’t want to sound too hopeful, but I wish we can start over from square one.”

“So, can we start again?” Her voice makes you jump. “Answer me, oppa; can we start again? Will you give me another chance?" You turn to her with a sigh. “Let’s… focus on getting better for now.” Your indecisive answer disappoints Jiwoo, her eyes shining with unshed tears of unspoken dismay. “Sure, if you say so…” she trails off as she enters the bedroom again with slouched shoulders.

When you return to the bedroom, you find her curled up in bed, hugging her knees. “Jiwoo-yah, your water,” you say, hoping that she’ll get out of that position. “I’m not thirsty,” she replies, her voice barely audible. You set the filled bottle on the bedside table. “Well, it’s here if you need it.”

Your hand lingered on the bottle just a second too long, and Jiwoo is quick to find your wrist, gripping it weakly. “Stay,” she begs, “I don’t want to be alone again.” It’s disheartening to see the usually cheerful girl like this. “Alright, I’ll be in bed with you.”

Jiwoo tangles her long limbs around your body to keep you close. Not only that, but she also puts her head on your chest. “Your heart is racing,” she comments. You chuckle. “So is my mind.” She looks up at you with hopeful eyes. “I hope you’re thinking about getting back together.” You exhale deeply. “Well, I am, actually.” Jiwoo is getting excited. “So?” You take a deep breath before replying.

“Well, I think… I think I’m falling for you again.”

Jiwoo gathers her strength and moves to straddle your lap, a mysterious grin spreading across her features. “Why are you looking at me like that, baby?” She chuckles. “I want to make love to celebrate getting back together.” Blood rushes towards your cock at her words, but you don’t give into lust as you would’ve in the past. “Baby, you’re still sick—weren’t you complaining about a headache earlier?” She shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she deflects.

Jiwoo’s grin falters when she gets the signal from your stern expression. “Ah, well, I suppose I should get better first.” She then proceeds to let her torso rest on yours. “Thank you, oppa,” she mutters. You press your lips against her temple. “We will have time for celebrations, baby—not now, though.”

-

When you wake up the following morning, Jiwoo’s limbs are still entangled with yours as she sleeps oh-so-peacefully with her mouth slightly open. You carefully free yourself from the embrace, not wanting to disturb her slumber any further, but despite that, Jiwoo wakes up.

“Going somewhere?” she asks, her voice hoarse. “I have to go to work; we’re trying to strike a deal with Covington.” Jiwoo furrows her eyebrows. “Covington? The same Covington from years ago?” You nod. “The one and only.” Jiwoo offers you a supportive smile. “Go get them, then, tiger—make yourself rich.” You chuckle. “Thanks, baby.”

Jiwoo’s smile begins to disappear as she watches you put on your jacket and walk out of the bedroom. “I miss you already, oppa,” she mutters, too quiet to reach your ears. She sighs deeply when she hears your car driving away. “See you later, I guess.”

Jiwoo spends some more time rolling around in bed, and at one point, she wonders if she could pretend like her illness is coming back just so she would have a chance to call you back home. As she scrolls down on her contact list, however, she decides against it; Jiwoo remembers that you’re trying to strike a deal with Covington.

The unhappy-but-understanding Jiwoo eventually gathers her will to leave the bed, stretching around and yawning as she gets herself together. She walks over to the mirror to take a look at herself; her hair is a mess, her lips are anything but red in color, and her eyes are, well, red.

“Whatever”, she shrugs, “still good enough for him.”

Jiwoo proceeds to make her way to the bathroom for a quick soap-less shower before heading towards the living room to entertain herself while you’re away doing God-knows-what. She picks up her handheld console to play the new game she bought some days ago, but she puts it down after a few minutes of gameplay; the bright and flashing lights are proving to be difficult to bear in sickness.

Jiwoo lies flat on the sofa, her mind wandering beyond the walls of her apartment. “What are you doing, oppa, and when are you coming back,” she wonders. A ding from the door makes her jump; could it be you coming back early to surprise her?

Jiwoo rushes to look through the peeping hole in the door, and excitement instantly goes away because it’s not you who’s at the door, but rather a food delivery guy. She puts on a face that screams “I’m sick” and opens the door to accept the food. “A delivery for Mrs. Shin,” the guy says as he brings the bag closer to her. Jiwoo blushes at the reference, but before her mind scrambles even further, she quickly grabs the bag from him. “H-has m-my husband tipped you?” The guy nods with a smile on his face. “Your husband was very generous with the tip, actually.” Jiwoo smiles in pride. “That’s… how he usually is.”

Jiwoo quickly sends the delivery guy on his way, closing and locking the door behind her before high stepping towards the sofa while giggling, the discomfort of illness forgotten for a moment. She pulls out the contents of the bag, which turns out to be a large box of pizza and a side of snacks from a place named Primo, her old favorite.

Jiwoo’s forehead furrows when she notices a folded piece of paper stuck on the cover of the pizza box. “What is this,” she wonders as she unfolds it.

“Hi, baby,

I’m sorry for leaving you alone this morning, but I promise I will come back as soon as possible. That is, if you’d let me come back.

Meanwhile, please enjoy the pizza and garlic bread. I asked for extra tartar sauce because I know how much you like Primo’s tartar. By the way, feel free to finish it all.”

With a smile on her face, Jiwoo presses the letter against her chest, both touched and entertained by the gesture. “Come back to me soon, oppa; I can’t stand being away from you for too long.” She puts down the letter on the table and shifts her attention to the 8 slices of delight and deliciousness in front of her.

One slice after another enters her mouth and towards her belly, and before she knows it, there’s only one slice of pizza left while the box of garlic bread hasn’t been touched at all. “I’m keeping you for later,” she says.

-

Another ding is heard from the door, and this time, she’s certain that it’s you instead of another delivery guy, considering the current time.

Jiwoo squeals when she sees you through the peephole, and in a moment of excitement, she happens to incorrectly enter the code of the door. “Oh, are you serious right now, Lee Jiwoo,” she’s annoyed at herself, “come on, come on—there we go.”

Jiwoo greets you with arms wide open, no longer showing signs of weakness from the illness, and you’re quick to fill the space in her embrace. “Oppa, welcome home!” You give her a peck to the temple. “Thank you for welcoming me back.” She returns the peck, but it lands on your lips instead. “You’re always welcome here—after all, we’re getting back together.”

Jiwoo pulls away from the embrace momentarily and looks at you in the eyes. “Wait, we’re getting back together, right?” You chuckle. “Only if you want to; I won’t force you into giving me another chance.” She takes the turn to chuckle. “You don’t have to force me; I’m already falling for you for the second time.”

Jiwoo drags you towards the sofa, the box of reheated garlic bread waiting on a table in front of it. “I finished the pizza right away, oppa, but I saved this for you.” Her cute joyfulness makes it irresistible to not smile. “Thanks, but can I ask you something first, baby?” She nods. “Ask away, oppa.”

“You didn’t forget your meds, did you?”

Jiwoo’s gaze strays away from yours at the realization that she forgot to take her medicine twice today. “I-I forgot, oppa…” she trails off, no longer as joyful as earlier. “You forgot, huh?” She gulps to swallow the anxiety that’s stuck in her throat. “Y-yes, oppa; I-I forgot, a-and I’m sorry.”

You get on your knees in front of her. “What could you possibly have been doing that made you forget about your meds, hm?” Jiwoo’s chin gets stuck to her chest as tears begin spilling out. “O-oppa, p-please don’t get angry.” You sigh. “I’m not angry, sweetheart—I’m a bit disappointed, though.”

You ignore Jiwoo’s sobs momentarily to get the bag of medicine from the bedroom, and with it in hand, you kneel in front of her again. “Take them, please,” you say, placing the bag on her thighs. She holds the bag tightly, still unable to calm herself down from getting the brunt of your stern attitude.

You carefully reach for her cheeks, wiping her tears with your thumbs. “Baby, you know I mean well, right? I just want to help you recover as quickly as possible.” Jiwoo sniffles. “B-but you’re still as s-scary as you used to be, oppa.” You sigh again, and you can feel anger dissipating from your mind. “I’m sorry, baby; I didn’t mean it like that.” Jiwoo suddenly hugs you tightly. “Leave your businessman charade at the door; I-I need my boyfriend right now,” she begs. You nod. “Of course, baby.”

You lift Jiwoo on one shoulder—while your free hand grabs the box of garlic bread—and carry her towards the bedroom. You then lower her onto the bed, positioning her to sit right on the edge of it. “Can I entertain you with some garlic bread, baby?” She nods feebly. You guide a piece of bread towards her lips while using your other hand to pet her head tenderly, and Jiwoo rests her head against your shoulder as she munches.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart; I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” Jiwoo hums. “I know you meant well, but there’s something about that stern look of yours that always scares me shitless.” You chuckle a bit. “Yeah, anyway,” you stand up and hand her the bag of medicine, “I want to see you take these meds right now.” Jiwoo does as you demand and takes her pills together with one swig of water from the glass you’ve provided. “Satisfied, my lord?” You scoff. “Yes, I am.”

“Now,” Jiwoo’s voice drops to a sultry tone, “don’t you think I deserve a reward for being such a good girl?” You exhale deeply. “A reward, you say—what kind of reward are you seeking, my sweet?” Jiwoo palms your crotch with one hand. “One that will make me scream until I lose my voice.” She smirks when she notices the way you’re getting hard under her touch.

“Please, daddy.”

Jiwoo beams when your suit jacket falls off your shoulders, going as far as biting her lip—quite sexy, admittedly. She follows your hands as they undo the buttons of your shirt from the top. She halts your movements when your fingers land on your belt. “That’s mine, daddy.” She unlatches your belt and swiftly zip down your trousers.

“Daddy,” she looks up at you with big eyes, “may I…?” Your permission comes in the form of a wordless nod, and that is when Jiwoo yanks your boxers downwards. Her jaw drops when your sizeable and hard cock is laid bare right before her eyes. “I’ve missed you, daddy.” You scoff. “Me or my dick?” Still enamored with your cock, Jiwoo answers, “Yes.”

You gently push Jiwoo backwards, thus making her land on her back on the soft mattress. Jiwoo invites you to touch her further by parting her legs as wide as she can, and you take this most welcome opportunity by placing a finger on her nub. “Oh, fuck.” Jiwoo arches her back at the first contact. “More, please,” she begs. You continue your teasing ministrations for some time, making Jiwoo’s moans become louder.

“Oh, I’m so close, daddy—God, how am I so close already?” With a smirk on your face, you remove your finger from her nub. Jiwoo screams in agony as orgasm eludes her. “No, no, no, please,” she begs tearily, “w-why did you do that, daddy? H-how could you be so mean to me?” You chuckle. “I’m the mean one? Remind me, who decided to break us up?” Jiwoo slams her head onto the pillow in frustration. “I-it was me, daddy; I-I was so selfish and immature.”

Jiwoo moves to sit and guides your hand towards her cheek. “If you want to slap me, oppa, then slap me.” She tenses as you lift your hand, seemingly to prepare to slap her, but she quickly relaxes again when your touch is a soft one. “You know I would never harm you like that.”

Jiwoo rubs against your hand like a cat. “That doesn’t change the fact that it hurt so bad, though,” you say. She nods. “I understand—hell, I still ask myself as to why I decided to leave.” You smile a little, hiding the pain behind a simple charade. “Well, you said you were looking for something I didn’t have.” Jiwoo looks up at you with shiny eyes. “I’ve learned that the safety and comfort you provided were second to none—you were the right person who came at the wrong time.”

For some reason, her declaration sends shiver down your spine; you swear you’ve heard this somewhere before.

“So, what convinced you to take another chance to be with me, baby?” A tear escapes Jiwoo’s eyes. “I long for the warmth and love that only you can provide, my love,” she answers, her voice thick with emotions. “And I just—”

Before she can finish, you crash your lips into hers, thus interrupting her speech. “I love you, Lee Jiwoo; I love you so, so much.” Jiwoo nods as more tears come out of her eyes. “I-I love you too—t-thank you for giving me another chance.”

Jiwoo suddenly pulls you onto the bed with her. “Hold me close, oppa,” she begs, and you comply right away. She lets out whimpers into your chest, showing vulnerability like she would in the past.

“I don’t know if this will help make you feel better, but I never saw anyone when you were away from me,” you confess. Jiwoo looks up at you. “R-really? Y-you kept yourself, erm, clean?” You nod at her question, and that is when she hugs you more tightly than earlier. “You knew we’d get back together, didn’t you, oppa?” You give her a peck on the top of her head. “I guess I did.”

After crying to her heart’s content, Jiwoo pulls away from your embrace. “Now, where were we before you made me cry, oppa?” You chuckle. “Well, I denied your orgasm,” you say. Jiwoo reaches for your arm, grazing it with the tip of her fingers. “Would you be so kind as to let me have an orgasm, daddy?”

“Only if you’ll ride me.”

Jiwoo agrees to your term, straddling your lap without being told twice. “You know, daddy,” she licks her bottom lip, “I didn’t see anyone when you were away from me either.” She bends down until her mouth is next to your ear. “It will feel like you’re popping my cherry again, daddy.”

Your grip on her hips fastens at the prospect of feeling her tight walls around your cock. “Excited, aren’t you, daddy? I know I am—after all, I haven’t felt your glorious cock in so long.” You pinch her waist. “Just get on with it already, hm?” Jiwoo chuckles. “What daddy wants, daddy gets.”

Jiwoo guides you towards her entrance and slowly impales herself on your shaft. “Oh, fuck, I feel like a virgin again.” She moves her hips up and down along your length at a relaxed pace, taking her time to get reintroduced to your size. “Fuck, daddy,” she moans, “fuck, you’re… stronger than before.” You groan heavily at the feeling of being gripped by her tight walls. “And you’re… tighter than before.” Jiwoo’s aroused face is decorated with a satisfied grin. “All for you, daddy.”

After getting used to your shaft, Jiwoo picks up the pace, and it’s getting harder to ignore her cute, bouncing tits. You pull her closer towards you so your lips can reach them. Jiwoo gasps loudly when you nibble her nipple. “Oh, yes, daddy; suck it, nibble it, bite it—do anything you want, daddy.” With her urge in the back of your mind, you increase the stimulation on her tits; you take turns putting each nipple in your mouth to make sure one doesn’t get jealous of the other.

While you’re busy playing with her tits, Jiwoo is busy riding your shaft while moaning loudly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—oh, I’m so close already,” she announces. With an ear-piercing scream (that you’re certain can be heard by her neighbors), Jiwoo comes undone on your lap. In her weak state, she crashes into you, panting so heavily because of the intensity of her orgasm. “I… I’ve missed you, daddy—I’ve missed us.” You grit your teeth as her silky walls spasm wildly around your shaft, as if trying to make you blow inside her. “I-I’ve missed you too, baby,” you reply amidst the heavy pants.

After getting down from the high of orgasm, Jiwoo pulls away slightly; her hair is a mess, her eyes are shiny, but her smile is sweet and soft as always. “Oppa, I want…” she trails off as she tries to string together some words. Your eyebrows rise, urging her to continue. “I don’t know,” she sighs, “I just… I want to be tied to you, if that makes sense.” You think about the meaning of her words. “You want something more serious, baby?” She nods, and your brain comes up with an idea.

“Well, in that case, will you marry me, Lee Jiwoo?”

Your sudden question has her in tears.

“Yes, oppa—a million times yes!” She crashes into you for a tight hug. “I will marry you in this life, the next, and the one after that.” Her answer is as good as you hope, making you shed tears of your own. “I will truly be yours, oppa; your queen, your friend, your everything.” You nod, your cheek rubbing against hers. “Thank you, my love—thank you so, so much.” Your embrace grows tighter as you bask in emotions. “Thank you to you too, oppa,” she replies.

Now that the tears are starting to dry up, Jiwoo rises from your lap, thus letting your still-hard cock slip out. She lies square on her back next to you. “Come on, my king; make love to your queen.” You waste no time to take your rightful place between her spread legs. “Can I—” “Yes,” she interjects. “Come inside, my love; fill me with your essence and make me bear your child.” You chuckle. “Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves now, sweetheart.”

Jiwoo was about to say something else, but before the first syllable could leave her lips, your cock invades her lower ones. “Oh, yes, just like that,” she moans out, “make love to me just like that, my lovely king.” You move your hips at an unhurried pace, savoring the sensation of her tightness. “Oh, God, how are you this tight, baby,” you wonder out loud. She chuckles lightly with a blush on her face. “That’s just how much I love you, oppa.”

Jiwoo closes her eyes as the calm lovemaking progresses, finding it more intimate and enjoyable than kinky or rough sex. Quiet hums of approval also leave her lips occasionally amidst the soft moans. “Mm, yes, my love,” she mutters. “But a bit faster, if you don’t mind?” You smile. “Of course, baby.” You turn up the speed of your movements a few notches, thus earning a smile from Jiwoo. “Yes, that’s perfect, love—now, let’s run to the gates of orgasm together.”

Jiwoo’s sexy moans serve as fuel for you in this final stretch of the sprint towards completion, and the signs of orgasm are getting more apparent; you’re starting to throb inside her. “Fill me, my love.” With her permission in the back of your head, you lodge yourself inside her entirely and just… let go.

In your post-orgasm bliss, you fall limply onto Jiwoo, who is also as weak. “Thank you,” you whisper. A soft peck lands on your cheek. “Thank you, oppa,” she returns the gratitude. “It’s now clear to me that I can’t live without you—I mean, no one can understand me like you do.” You hum. “Promise me that you won’t get bored of me again.” Jiwoo sighs. “Saying it was a huge mistake anyway,” she adds.

-

“It is with utmost joy that I introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Shin. May their love grow stronger with each passing day.”

The hall that is filled with family members and closest friends explodes into deafening cheers, as those present are as happy as you and Jiwoo are for the new status.

You and her turn towards the crowd, waving at them, and you happen to spot your brother and his wife giving you four thumbs-ups. You put your hand on your chest to express gratitude to them for their wonderful, restless support for the past few months during the preparation of the wedding.

Jiwoo steals your attention by turning your face towards hers. “I love you, my boring husband.” Her words make you burst out laughing. “Boring means safe, yes?” She nods with an eye smile on her face. “Yes, I feel safe with you,” she says. You quickly capture her lips with yours.

“I feel safe with you too, baby, and I love you more.”

[kiddphel]

i wasnt gonna make a post on this, but ive seen more people talk about it so i figured id say my peace. Ariane has hurt me, countless friends of mine, and many more mutuals. we have not talked in a few years at this point and i have not checked in on her as she blocked me every time she remade and i made sure to block her because of the bad blood between us. there are several screenshots in the callout post from ariane where she is vaguing and lying about me and my friends. when i was what i would call a friend to ariane (3ish years ago by now), i watched her harass, stalk, shit talk and bully many people. screenshots are not available because she deleted and remakes blogs and servers. even people she called a friend she would talk awfully about, sometimes even making locked channels in her discord servers where people couldnt see and then talking badly about those people in her mutuals server.

it has been hard to bring up these things because firstly, i did not want to get into it and put myself back on her radar. second, she has told many people, strangers and past mutuals, to block me. i can only imagine what she said to them but i have had people unblock me since to reconnect after she turned on them.

all of this is to say. if you support ariane, please unfollow me. i wont be mad. i dont want someone who supports her to be around me. that callout didnt even scratch the surface of her bad behavior.

[hansolen]

greetings, i shall be going insane utc 🤍 also thank you for tagging me in this beautiful piece of literature that i WILL be engraving on my forehead moving forward. i’m glad this popped up in my notifs so that i didn’t miss this absolute delicacy 🫡 ALSO I FINALLY GOT TO USE THE GIF LOLL

Needless to say, Shin tries to keep you at the register as much as possible.

this made me laugh so hard 😭😭 keep the money up 🗣️ not the funny up 🗣️

(Yes—Shin slept with you. It was an accident, through and through, and he routinely feels bad about it. He'd been meaning to ask you out, treat you to dinner, maybe even get you flowers depending on the vibe. The type of thing that Mr. Sakamoto did for Aoi, when they first started dating.

SOMEONE HOLD ME IM ABOUT TO CRY AND THROW UP... the way he holds sakamoto and aoi as the benchmark GODDD THIS IS KILLING ME 😭😭😭💔💔💔 FUCKKKK AND NOW WITH THE ADDITIONAL PAIN OF HIS OWN BACKSTORY ..... MY HEART IS LITERALLY IN PIECES I HOPE YOU CAN HEAR THE CRACKS 😭😭💔💔 sakamoto truly is his real father 😭 benchmark of how love ought to be 😭

You've had explicit fantasies about deepthroating him while he works the cash. He'd die if you ever tried that, actually.

tumblrina reader at it again 🫡🫡 so very real. also love this rollercoaster that i’m riding. perfectly encapsulates their dynamic

Not that that bothers Shin. Not at all. Not one bit.

mhm. whatever you say, gorgeous.

[ alright so the ones bellow are just a compilation of my thoughts while i was reading them going at it — and since there were a lot of paragraphs, i know it would be better not to quote the whole damn thing since i’m partially sane ]

wow need me a guy like shin who can read my wants without having to say them 🫡 that’s actually so. perfect. LIKE DAMN that’s so hot

SHIN IS A CERTIFIED YEARNER look at him go 😭😭 the way he feels guilty about a quickie 😭 he’s so real for that... a true advocate of aftercare !

“but you're both punctual workers” WAGE CAGE AT IT AGAIN 💔 let my boy yearn in peace .

OMG SEE HOW I SAID ADVOCATE OF AFTERCARE EARLIER?? OMG HE CONVERTED THE READER INTO LOVING IT TOO MY HEARTTT... he might as well add a successful advocate of aftercare into his resume.

[ pertaining to their first time ] LMAO i can just imagine reader sitting there trying to choose between breakfast or blowjob like that one meme.. okay wait. pause i’ll brb

THIS ONE LOL

[ back to the present ] oh god 😭 the way the reader is so confused with her feelings 💔 the clear struggle of seperating fantasies that she uses to cope with reality from the said reality............yeah........ i fear you just hit the nail of the coffin with that one 💔

but to add onto that i’m really glad shin understands her feelings so well (i mean i know he deals with other people’s feelings very well, considering his years of experience with others and dissecting their thoughts apart. plus he’s naturally like that. very isfj coded indeed. his Fe is prevalent throughout his character growth, such a core part of him) but i digress.

i just love how he doesn’t immediately take it personally, instead he attempts to understand reader at a more fundamental level — beyond her surface thoughts.

he knows reader has a lot to address and so much to sort through. yet he also knows she’s unable to do so alone. it actually melts me how he’s so willing to help her with it and gives her hints later on so that she finds out by herself (+ he’s too embarrassed to say it himself lol bc c’mon now this is SHIN of all people) but seriously they’re so adorable it’s killing me

Eventually, you ask him to come over in the evening, and he scrambles to agree, desperate for a do-over.

MY GUYYY IS SO DOWN BAD I'M SCREAMINGGG as he should be !!!

He isn't familiar with dick appointment etiquette, especially not appointments involving a friend. Was he meant to bring a gift? A Netflix movie recommendation? It would have felt wrong to show up completely empty-handed

im actually laughing so hard A Netflix Recommendation ....... A Gift ...😭😭😭 shin the man that you are 😭😭😭😭😭 probably not the right way to use the phrase but oh well ! dick appointment etiquette.... BAHDHAHAH

ok but reader and shin discussing the quality of visuals 😭😭 reader saying she’ll adjust them next time like it’s a youtube video resolution 😭😭😭 BAHAHUAGS JDOWLE STOPPP

Some ten minutes later, you make a small noise of protest when Shin pulls out of you, and it turns into a look of outright betrayal when he gets up. Shin’s heart clenches immediately.

BOY YOU’RE IN LOVEEEEEEEEEE

“Don't be sorry. You can't help it. That'd be like if I were sorry for breathing.”

i know this broke him. he would’ve 100% gotten into his head in hands position if only an ultimate bad bitch wasn’t opening her heart to him rn. bro must’ve had tears threatening to come out for sure 😭 truly though this must’ve been like a bullet through his head .... someone really needed to say this to him 💔

Why am I nervous? Tell me, Shin.

I AM SCREAMING ON THE TOP OF MY LUNGS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOMEONE STOP THIS STOP STOP STOP THIS MADNESS IM DYING DROWNING EVERYTHING STOPPP

“I wouldn't know.” Except he’s got a good guess, and he'd rather die than say it out loud because it would be embarrassing for you both if he were wrong.

OH GOD oh lord. i . i just. THEM. JUST THEM!!!!!!!!

guys. im tearing up

oh god they’re doomed by the narrative aren’t they 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i need to physically get into sakadays universe and rearrange everything so they end up together and none of that soulmate bs ever happens 💔💔💔 infact i will go fight the fates themselves and rearrange the threads myself idc idc

them possibly not being endgame might just be my final straw YOUR HONOUR FUCK YOUR SOULMATE BS LET THEM BEEEE LEAVE THEM ALONE AAAA 😭💔 they will heal each other #Trust

“Aw,” you say, “that's too bad. I bet forced orgasms with ESP would feel amazing.”

1. reader is so fucking real.... i bet it would be god tier.. thinking thots.. 2. THIS AS A RESPONSE IS FUCKING SENDING MEEEEEE i love your timing

Mr. Sakamoto sees the two of you as you make it to work just on time together and immediately figures out what's happened. Shin gets a mental reprimand for not marrying you first, and the disappointment from Mr. Sakamoto is so strong that he briefly considers resigning out of disgrace.

RESIGNING FROM DISGRACE 😭😭😭 LMAFAOAOAOAO no actually i need to stop laughing cuz ...poor guy has been going through it. not only is he dealing with an extremely complex situationship with zero previous romantic experience to look back at, but is also able to read the thoughts of disappointment his idol feels for him regarding the said situation 😭💔 poor guy .... he looks up to you sakamoto!! i swear he wishes he could marry or ATLEAST get a date before but 😔 things are not that simple!! and i really don’t think SAKAMOTO of all people should be speaking on this . like he has has no idea how to deal with complex relationships 🙄 not everyone is lucky enough to have aoi pop into their lives like an angel and stay 🙂‍↔ sakamoto would never survive in this situation ... but again, sakatmoto would never get himself in this situation. WHATEVER! shin you’re one strong guy with an even stronger stroke game. keep your head up king.

You want to kiss Shin all the time now, and it's making him feel like the horniest person alive.

OMG THE ROLES GETTING REVERSED AT THE END WAS SO CUTEEE I SEE WHAT U DID THERE MAO OMG IM DYINGGGGG theyre perfect and made for each other no one can tell me otherwise i will . i will combust.

end. thanku for coming to my ted talk

SITUATIONSHIP | asakura shin x f!reader

You are both the most diligent worker at Sakamoto's Store and the most hypersexual person that Shin knows. Overhearing your thoughts and accidentally seeing your fantasies routinely leads to profound psychic damage for him, as well as the most poorly timed boners in the world. All of this only gets worse when the two of you start hooking up.

6k words. comedy, smut. all the sex scenes are vanilla; however, the reader constantly reads and thinks about horny fanfiction tropes including: free use, omegaverse, and breeding. these are all mentioned but not discussed in detail. warning: the reader has a warped/unhealthy relationship with her sexuality, this fic is about shin fixing her with his stroke game lol. credits to @/cafekitsune for the dividers and @hansolen for the fic brainrot <3

You are the worst coworker that Shin has ever had.

This is saying a lot, given that he's worked with countless two-bit assassins who could barely a handle a gun (no one he worked with in his late teenage years could hold a candle to Mr. Sakamoto, truly), as well as Lu, who can barely orient herself within the store. You are, in contrast, brutally efficient with your work, incredible with the customers, and very cooperative with Shin. You even know how to handle a gun, and you do it with such pinpoint precision that it's always nonlethal despite being brutally debilitating. (Your skill level does hold a candle to Mr. Sakamoto in this respect, and Shin wonders if his boss has given you some kind of private training—a thought that fills him with such jealousy that it makes him want to chew on the sale stickers in his hands.) There's just one problem.

You are probably the horniest person alive, and Shin is about to lose his fucking mind listening to your thoughts.

Now, Shin is used to hearing the unfiltered stream of consciousness of the average human being. This naturally includes carnal desires here and there. He’s desensitized to most people’s erotic fantasies about their favourite gravure idol, memories of their last sexual encounter, intrusive thoughts about their friends, et cetera. He habitually tunes it out. But whereas a regular person might have these thoughts once or twice a day, you seem to have them once or twice an hour. And none of your thoughts are ever brief or underdeveloped. They usually last at least ten minutes each, with detailed internal monologuing and accompanying 8K UltraHD visuals, and you really only ever stop when you're trying to remember a code at the till or doing some quick mental math with the accounts.

Needless to say, Shin tries to keep you at the register as much as possible.

You used to tell yourself (in your head) that your mental fixation on sex was a natural consequence of your dry spell. After quitting the assassin life, you'd been celibate for the first time in at least a decade, forced to attain sexual gratification with nothing but masterfully written fanfiction and your vast collection of vibrators. (Your favourite one is hot pink, seven inches, rabbit eared. You sometimes have trouble getting it to fit, but it’s worth it for the way you cum when you do, and this knowledge makes Shin want to die.) You were convinced that getting laid would bring you enough relief to stop thinking about sex every hour of the day. You had thought that you'd go back to “normal” after that, though Shin doesn't know what “normal” entails for you. (One free-use fantasy a day instead of twelve? Daydreams strictly featuring humans rather than tentacle monsters? It's hard to say.)

Regardless, Shin had to agree: surely, there would be a limit to your sex-obsessed thoughts. It made a lot of sense that you were simply frustrated and in need of an outlet. Naturally, after sleeping with you, he'd expected your thoughts to quiet down.

(Yes—Shin slept with you. It was an accident, through and through, and he routinely feels bad about it. He'd been meaning to ask you out, treat you to dinner, maybe even get you flowers depending on the vibe. The type of thing that Mr. Sakamoto did for Aoi, when they first started dating. If everything went well, then you two could consider getting intimate. His interest in you has nothing to do with sex, after all—no, not even the fact that you've had explicit fantasies about deepthroating him while he works the cash. He'd die if you ever tried that, actually.

The plan was always to take things slow and maybe even start a relationship if the two of you really hit it off. He'd even asked Mr. Sakamoto for advice on what a civilian romance should look like! But then Shin walked you back to your apartment one night when you were feeling down, and you invited him upstairs, and one thing led to another, and, well… it turns out that you aren't the type of person to take things slow. Or think about relationships. Shin’s never overheard any thoughts from you about actually dating him, come to think of it. And no, before you ask—that doesn't bother him. Not at all. Not one bit.)

To both his surprise and yours, getting laid somehow had the opposite effect on you. Rather than being calmed, you're somehow even hornier—and now all your horny thoughts are about Shin.

It's nonstop. Shin can't believe it. Whereas you used to think about all sorts of people in your sexual fantasies (mostly your fanfiction men, but also some BL characters, occasionally Keanu Reeves, and very often that Nagumo guy), you now think solely of Shin. You're thinking about him right now, pausing as you finish restocking the onigiri.

Shin can hear every single thought from across the room, the way you feel the edges of your sanity fraying with the memory of his touch. The whole day, you've been remembering how it felt to have your pussy stretched around his cock, how it felt to have his hands on your curves, how he seemed to know exactly how to touch your body to make you keen. (Shin admits he cheated; a little ESP goes a long way in bed.) You soaked the sheets when you finally came, and he kissed you relentlessly through your orgasm. It made you so horny that you had to immediately go another round.

No other man’s ever made you cum like that, you keep thinking. You've fucked more people than you can count, but not a single person has ever felt so good inside you. The realisation is driving you crazy, and Shin feels like he's about to go crazy with you. In the absence of a cold shower, he wants to shove himself into the freezer right now. There's no other way to get rid of his raging boner.

How did it feel so fucking good?! you keep thinking, oblivious to his struggles. I need his cock inside me again. I need him to hit it raw this time. I need him to bend me over the counter and cum in my pussy right now—

It makes him want to die, listening to your thoughts. It also confuses him, somewhat: he isn't that experienced, and objectively he’s a little clumsy in bed. His performance is probably mid in the grand scheme of things, which makes him wonder why you feel like his dick is heaven-sent.

But more than anything, Shin wonders if you ever think about anything other than his dick. Sex isn't the only thing the two of you have done together. The first time you hooked up, he'd spent the night at your place. You clung to him in his sleep and you drooled on his chest and he thought it was kinda funny. He was careful not to wake you as he wiped your chin. You’d cooked him breakfast by the time he'd woken up: homemade miso, fresh rice, tamagoyaki. He made you burnt coffee after. You gave him a goodbye kiss, which somehow turned into a goodbye blowjob, which then escalated into wasting the day together in bed. You were really cuddly the whole time, and Shin could hear you think, how weird, I hate it when people hold me, and I hate it when people kiss me, but you liked it from Shin. You liked it so much that your pussy started dripping, and then what else could you do but suck him off again? (He returned the favour, of course.)

There was a lot more than just fucking, but you never think about any of that other stuff. You only ever think about his stroke game.

Not that that bothers Shin. Not at all. Not one bit.

By noon, he reaches his limit.

Shin considers himself a responsible guy and dedicated employee. He'd ordinarily never want to take off in the middle of the day to fool around with you—or anyone else—but it's his lunch break, and he has to get you to stop fantasizing. His dick is so hard that it's painful, and even with the apron it's getting tricky to cover up. As soon as the clock hits 12, he's throwing it off and making a beeline for you.

“We need to talk,” he says, grabbing you by the hand, and the face you make is so giddy that he can't help but sigh. You’re practically beaming as you take off your apron and say bye to Lu. We’ll be back in 30! you tell her in a sing-song voice, because you’re a very conscientious worker even when outrageously horny.

“You heard my thoughts?” you ask as the two of you climb the stairs to his room, and he snorts.

“How couldn't I?” He gives you a miserable look, cheeks flushing. “Were you doing that on purpose the whole morning?”

“No.” He raises a brow. “I'm serious—I wasn't trying to cause any trouble for you! It's just…” You bite your lip, and it takes all of Shin’s self-control to stop himself from staring at its glossy sheen. “I really just need to be touched again.”

“I don't believe you,” he says as he pulls you into his room.

“You're an esper! You should know I'm telling the truth!”

“I also know you like to torture me with your thoughts.”

“Well, yeah…” You smile at him, sheepish. “But I really just need a bit of relief. Want me to prove it to you?”

There's a sudden glint in your eye that makes Shin nervous, out of his depth. Sometimes he gets the feeling that you want to eat him alive, and he never knows how to handle it. He’s never gotten this level of attention before, and never in his wildest dreams did he think he'd get it from someone like you.

(Yeah—you're way out of Shin's league. For all his plans of a civilian romance, he wasn’t sure if he could actually score a date with you. He still isn't sure if he can score one. He's also not sure he’ll survive this encounter.)

He swallows. “Prove it…?”

“Uh huh.” You look so pretty right now, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Let me show you.”

You read too much hentai. Shin knows this firsthand (you read a lot of it on the clock, and all the images get blasted right into his prefrontal cortex), but he can also tell from how you act. It’s just way too fucking outrageous when you spread your legs for him, pulling up your skirt, and he's greeted not by the sight of your panties (you wore a lacy pair to work and kept bending over in hopes of flashing him—you had not been shy at all in this thought), but your bare, glistening cunt.

No fucking way.

“You’ve been working like that?!” he blurts out, mildly horrified even though his dick is jumping at the sight of you. You laugh, and you conjure up your panties from somewhere. They dangle from your fingertips, sheer and drenched.

“Took them off as we came up here. They're useless now anyway, see”—they’ve been soaked through for hours, and my thighs are all sticky—“and besides… I wanted to give you easy access.”

He thinks he's going to pass out.

“Easy access,” he repeats stiffly, bright red.

“Uh huh. Wanted to be efficient—we only have, what, twenty minutes?” Before he can even react, you're already turning around, bending over for him, ass up. From this angle, he can see just how wet you are—and how you're clenching around nothing, your cunt empty and needing to be filled. You glance over your shoulder, give him a teasing smile. “What are you waiting for?”

It’s a wonder that Shin doesn't cum on the spot, really. Like he said—he isn't an experienced guy. He's never slept with anyone so forward, or so—well. Smoking hot, for lack of better word. Half of him has a mind to just stand there and say that he can't believe you, and half of him has a mind to fuck you like you've been hoping all morning. Thankfully, this latter half of him wins out—probably for the better. If he helps you work this out of your system, you'll probably stop assaulting his mind with all your horny thoughts and his dick can exist in peace for the rest of the afternoon. Right?

Right?

(He ends up being extremely wrong.)

By the time he's pulled down his pants, put a condom on, and started pushing inside you, the two of you have seventeen minutes left. He worries briefly that it won't be enough time to get you to cum (nor him, though that isn't his goal currently), but it turns out to be a non-issue. Your pussy swallows his cock easily, stretching around him so perfectly that he nearly chokes. He always hears you talking about how sex with him feels leagues better than with any other person, but he’s not sure if you know that the same is true for him. No one's ever felt as good as you, and it takes every ounce of willpower in him not to cum immediately.

You're already close to the edge, too. Probably pent up from squeezing your thighs together all morning and thinking about his touch. You moan in a way that is obscene, like something out of an AV—but Shin knows that it isn't a performance. He can feel your body and hear your thoughts, all the genuine bliss you get from being filled up. When he starts moving, it's with intent. He fucks you like you’ve been fantasising all day, all week—with a relentless pace, focused on giving you nothing but pleasure. You tighten around him like you were made for him, and—

—apparently you feel like you're being used? Like a hole? The fuck! Shin almost stops mid-stroke to balk at you—he wouldn't do that to you!—but then you moan and he feels you getting wetter at the thought, and then he has no choice but to keep going. He's not about to kill your high.

Nine minutes left. Your clit is throbbing, neglected, and as soon as you think about touching yourself, Shin’s fingers are circling it instead and making you keen. He hits the spot inside you that has your eyes rolling back and your spine arching beautifully, and you can’t speak with your mouth, but he hears you anyway: the begging, the neediness, right there right there you're doing so good Shin you feel so good don't stop don't stop don't, don't—

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, pressing your face into the sheets, and then Shin feels you pulsing around him, drenching him. He gets dragged over the edge with you, gasping sharply as he finds his own release. You collapse as he twitches inside you, spilling himself inside the condom, and he almost snorts when he hears you thinking, wish you were cumming in my pussy instead. Do it raw next time, okay?

“You know we have to use a condom,” he says between pants.

“But I'm on birth control! Read my mind—you know I'm telling the truth!”

“And I also know that birth control is only 93% effective,” he says, rolling his eyes. He glances at the clock. “C'mon—we only have five minutes until our lunch break ends.”

It feels a little weird, rushing you. He’s never had a quickie before, but he understands that you can't exactly take your time with cleaning up afterwards. Still, he thinks about what it was like the last time the two of you did this—how slow and soft it was after, how he stayed inside you for a bit, how he kissed you long and cleaned you up carefully. It just felt like the right thing to do after sleeping with someone, especially given that that someone was you. He'd much prefer to do that right now.

But you are both punctual workers, and anyway Shin’s heard enough of your idle thoughts to know that you’re fairly apathetic to aftercare—you never expect it, and you’re never particularly sad when you don't get it. Sometimes you even fantasize about being used roughly and then discarded (a thought that he finds so unpleasant that it instantly kills his boner every time).

So it's probably fine to rush back downstairs, he figures. He throws you some wipes, lets you clean yourself up. You do it without complaint. You're not upset. He can even hear your mind humming with satisfaction, coming down from the highs of sensory pleasure.

Which is why he's confused when he hears you think, Huh. That didn't feel as good as I thought it would.

It's not like it felt bad.

This is what Shin hears all afternoon: You had a good time. You generally like being treated like a hole. You hadn't thought that Shin would have it in him to do that (neither did he, he admits), but it was kind of thrilling that he did. You want him to do it again for sure. He hit your g-spot with the kind of precision that only an esper can manage, and your vision nearly went white as you found your climax.

And that's what matters, right? You came. You had an orgasm. The little death. The ultimate goal of sex. You used to have a hard time with it, but after so many missions your body started to enjoy sex and now you cum very easily. And you came very easily with Shin, so that means you must enjoy having sex with him too, right?

But it was better the first time you had sex. Objectively better. You came way harder. You even squirted during your second round with him! Your orgasm was so intense that you felt blissed out for the rest of the night, and even the morning after. When you woke up and realised that Shin was not only still there, but also holding you, it made you so horny that you nearly woke him up with a blowjob. It was only with great self-control that you woke him up with breakfast instead.

You don’t feel like that right now, though. You don't feel horny and you don't feel like cooking and the euphoria of your orgasm melted away a while ago. You just feel sort of… empty.

You don't feel bad, though. It's a beautiful day. The char siu bao in your hand is incredibly fragrant. Piisuke is on your shoulder and chirping in your ear. Shin looks really handsome in his apron—did you know that, Shin? you ask him in your mind—and he goes bright red at this thought and looks away. You don't feel bad, you mentally reassure him. You just don't feel as good as you thought you would.

But Shin does feel bad. He feels miserable, actually. He's not a very experienced guy, but even he can tell that you’re the type of person who needs to be held after having sex. It seems like you probably don't realise it, but it's clear as day to Shin, and for the rest of the afternoon he hates himself for not having done it. It wouldn’t have had to be for very long.

Lu could have covered for an extra fifteen minutes, he keeps thinking. Fuck!

Eventually, you ask him to come over in the evening, and he scrambles to agree, desperate for a do-over.

Shin’s not really good at this hook-up business.

Now—he isn't exactly good at relationships either, but he feels exceptionally awkward about coming over to your place with the express purpose of having sex. He isn't familiar with dick appointment etiquette, especially not appointments involving a friend. Was he meant to bring a gift? A Netflix movie recommendation? It would have felt wrong to show up completely empty-handed, so he ends up bringing your favourite snacks and two bottles of Pocari Sweat. If this is anything like the first time he stayed over, you'll probably both need it.

You're delighted by the snacks and amused by the drinks. He wrestles with himself over what kind of small-talk to make—there’s a PS5 out right now, and your TV screen is paused on Leon Kennedy’s face, so maybe he can start a conversation about the horror genre? He watches a lot of films—but you're dragging him into your room before he can overthink it.

“I missed you,” you say, voice all sweet with affection as you straddle his lap.

“It's been two hours,” he points out, somehow managing not to stammer.

“Eight hours since we fucked.”

“That's not very long at all.”

“Felt like forever to me.” Your whisper is so tender in his ear, incongruent with the absolute filth you're thinking about right now. You need his cock so, so bad—you’d have it inside you 24/7 if you could have it your way, though he's also free to help himself to your body at any hour of the day. Sure, he can't smoke on the premises, but there's no rule against hiking up your skirt and pushing your panties to the side so he can—

“I wouldn't do that in the store!” he squawks, and you giggle.

“Then you should start taking me up to your room more often.”

Shin would be more than happy to host you, actually. He’s been thinking lately about having you over for dinner—Aoi’s been teaching him how to cook—and getting to know you better, in a non-Biblical way. But Shin knows that's not what you mean. You want him to carry you upstairs without asking and to throw you onto his bed and to fuck you into the mattress. You want to go back to your shift without your panties, his cum dripping out of your pussy and sliding down your—

“You really want me to finish inside you,” Shin remarks, bewildered at your sheer obsession over it, and you tilt your head.

“Don't you?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean—we shouldn't. It's, uh. Risky. I don't want to get you, y'know… pregnant…” His dick twitches in a way that makes him grateful that you don't have ESP. He's realising something about himself that he absolutely cannot think about, and which you would absolutely exploit if you figured out. He clears his throat, hoping he looks normal. “Like. You know. It's better to be on the safe side.”

You study him carefully. “I dunno, Shin.” You smile knowingly. “I don't think I'd mind it if you wanted to breed me.”

Shin is going to die.

The next twenty minutes pass in a horny blur. The two of you spend it all over each other, his cock sliding along your opening—dangerously close to pushing in. You beg him for just the tip, both verbally and mentally—pleaaase Shin please please please it'd be so easy, I'm still stretched out from before, you know it'd feel good—and he's watched enough adult films to know that this is a blatant trap. He somehow pulls away, and immediately feels bad at the crushed expression you make, so he decides he has no choice but to make it up to you by putting his head between your thighs. Within minutes he’s sucking on your clit and making you keen, his fingers curling inside you. He knows your orgasm is intense both from the way you gush all over his face and how your mind goes pleasantly, blissfully quiet for a moment.

It doesn't stay quiet for long.

The most debauched image possible comes to his mind—you, underneath him, your legs folded into a mating press as you take his cock. He’s giving you another load, pumping you full. It's filling up your womb, and you'll definitely get pregna—

“You’re fucking evil,” he groans. “And you read way too much hentai. Those visuals were so goofy.”

You laugh, unbothered. “Sorry, I'll adjust them for realism next time.”

“Please don't,” he begs, even though he knows he's going to spend the next week being mentally assaulted by your breeding kink fantasies. He just hopes they stay relatively normal and don't devolve into the weird omegaverse stuff. Or the monsterfucking stuff. Or the gangbang scenarios. Please, God, anything but the gangbang fantasies. He’ll scream if you imagine another threesome with him and that invisible asshole who kidnapped Lu. He’ll simply resign if you add Nagumo.

To your profound disappointment, Shin ends up using a condom. He doesn't give you much time to feel sad about it, settling quickly between your legs and practically knocking the breath out of you as he thrusts into you. He’s left kind of breathless too. You weren't lying—you are still stretched out from earlier in the day, wet and pliant for him, and there's hardly any resistance as he starts pumping into you. He watches you carefully, laid out underneath him—your eyes squeezing shut as you're made to take his cock. Your mind goes a little quiet again, overwhelmed by pleasure. It's simultaneously a blessing and a curse: Shin’s finally getting a break from your psychic teasing, but the knowledge that he's fucking you dumb is doing something horrible to him.

He changes his angle, and a whimper leaves you. You tighten and gush around him in a way that makes it obvious what he’s hitting; he doesn't need ESP to know to keep doing it. Still, your thoughts are going haywire, a tangle of desire, and it's impossible for him to ignore. I need, he keeps hearing as your thighs starts to twitch, as you start tearing up, I need I need I need I need—

Your eyes land on his lips, and Shin hears you.

His kiss is open-mouthed, clumsy, but you’re hungry for it anyway. You’re panting into each other’s mouths when you start pulsing around Shin’s dick, and you end up cumming so hard on his cock that it's dizzying for you both. He fucks you through your orgasm, and it's only when you're glassy-eyed and limp beneath him that he finally lets himself finish. He pulls back as he does, gasping sharply, but not for long—you draw him back in quickly, clinging to him as you seek out another kiss. The two of you stay like that for a long moment—still connected, breaths heavy with exhaustion, lips slow and lazy against each other.

“Enjoy yourself more this time?” Shin asks, and you hum sweetly against his mouth. You’re still too mindless from your orgasm to form any real thoughts, but Shin can tell that you don't really want to talk. You want to keep kissing him. And you want him to hold you while you do it, which he happily obliges.

Some ten minutes later, you make a small noise of protest when Shin pulls out of you, and it turns into a look of outright betrayal when he gets up. Shin’s heart clenches immediately.

“Just getting stuff to clean up,” he explains, and you relax visibly.

“Oh,” you say. “Right.”

You seem antsy. You feel antsy. You're antsy because you just realised how much you like kissing Shin. Specifically, you've realised that kissing him elevates your orgasms into mind-blowing experiences, and now you're questioning every other orgasm you've had. Maybe I don't actually enjoy sex that much? you wonder. Or maybe I always needed to be kissed to enjoy it more? Wait, no. I hate it when people kiss me. It's gross. Except for when it's Shin. Why Shin? Hm… that apron must really be doing something for me.

Your head hurts. Shin patiently watches you replay your past experiences in your head, comparing all those nights with this one, and he can’t help but frown. Deeply. Your eyes go wide when he gives you an alarmed look at one particular memory.

“Shit, sorry! I forgot you’d see all that.”

“No, I'm sorry,” he says, feeling—not for the first time—guilty about his powers. “If I could turn it off, I would.”

“Don't be sorry. You can't help it. That'd be like if I were sorry for breathing.” But despite your easy words, you’re watching him carefully, and your mind is stirring in an unsettling way. I'm nervous? you realise. Your heart is beating in a way that suggests a flight or fight response. It gets worse the longer you stare at him. Why am I nervous? Tell me, Shin.

“I wouldn't know.” Except he’s got a good guess, and he'd rather die than say it out loud because it would be embarrassing for you both if he were wrong. He'd have to resign. Nevertheless, he tries to guide you in a specific direction: “Have you really never liked it when people kissed you?”

“No,” you reply immediately. “I don't see the point of kissing during sex.”

He gives you a long look. “What if it’s not just sex? What if it's just a regular kiss on a regular day with, like, a partner? Someone you're really serious about.” He blinks at the confused stare you're giving him. “You mean you don't like that either?”

It's suddenly very noisy. Shin can hear your mind buzzing as you stare at the ceiling of your room, not with coherent sentences so much as shapeless confusion. His skin crawls with the echo of your discomfort; it's a wonder you aren't slipping out from the sheets to run away.

“...I don't know,” you finally decide. “I don't have much real dating experience.”

“Huh? You’ve said before that you've dated lots of guys.”

“Um.” You’re careful not to look at him. “Yeah, I guess. They all sucked though. I, like, wanted to kill every single one of my exes.”

“Like they were shitty boyfriends?”

No, like they were assassination targets, you think, and Shin has to keep a straight face as you reply, “Yeah, something like that.”

You rarely lie to Shin. You did it somewhat frequently until you figured out that he was capable of ESP, and then you stopped because you didn't see a point anymore. You only do it now when there's something you really don't want to talk about, so Shin relents. He focuses on cleaning himself up, and he interrupts the tense hum of your thoughts when he turns his attention to you. By the time he's finished and slid back into bed, your more complicated emotions have vanished, and you're back to marveling at the quality of the orgasm you just had. Apparently you like to keep things fairly simple in your inner world.

When Shin puts an arm around you, he can hear your pleasant surprise—and your immediate desire to press into him.

You're so happy just being held by him, it's shocking. And painfully endearing. Shin tries to pretend not to notice the warm glow of your thoughts, as well as your confusion over them: surely the simple act of being close to someone can't feel so good. Maybe the whole kissing thing was just a coincidence and Shin happened to be hitting it just right when your lips met. Or maybe he used his ESP on you to make you cum extra hard and he's still influencing you, and that's why you feel so tenderhearted right now.

“My powers only allow me to read minds,” he tells you. “I can't control other people.”

“Aw,” you say, “that's too bad. I bet forced orgasms with ESP would feel amazing.”

“...”

Shin realises something else about himself that he absolutely cannot let you know. Thankfully for him, you're none the wiser. Your mind’s somewhere else entirely when you climb on top of him, smiling neatly. Mind you, what you're thinking is still making him feel nervous. He's always a little out of his depth with you.

“Shin…”

You lean in, breath sweeping over his lips. His heart jumps.

“Y-yeah?”

“I'm still confused about how that felt so good.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You hold back a laugh. “Yeah, I guess you would have.” Then you give him an apologetic look. “Sorry I'm so stuck on it. I just thought I knew my body, y'know? I felt like I had tried everything worth trying. Sex was starting to feel boring, including the freaky stuff. But this is very new to me.”

This close up, Shin can feel the brush of your lashes when they flutter. See the glossy swell of your lips from all the kissing. Take in the fragrance of your hair. He starts to feel dizzy. “I-is it? I don't think we've been doing anything, uh. Crazy.”

“I didn't think so either.” Your thumb traces his lip. You're thinking about kissing him again, and you're also thinking about riding him as you do it. “I can't help but want to try it a few more times, you know? Just to make sure it wasn't a fluke.”

“A few more times,” he repeats, and you smile.

“You don't have anywhere you need to be tonight, do you?”

The two of you get two hours of sleep that night, and you end up going through both bottles of Pocari Sweat and all the snacks. There's no time for breakfast or burnt coffee the morning after; you make the executive decision to just eat something at the store instead. Shin leaves behind a toothbrush and you tell him he should also bring an extra set of clothes next time. He tries not to get too excited about the fact that there's going to be a next time. He fails.

Mr. Sakamoto sees the two of you as you make it to work just on time together and immediately figures out what's happened. Shin gets a mental reprimand for not marrying you first, and the disappointment from Mr. Sakamoto is so strong that he briefly considers resigning out of disgrace. But he stays on, and the days pass, and your relationship with him remains the same. Sort of.

Because, see. Now that you're regularly getting laid, your horny thoughts have finally (finally!) calmed down. You now have one free-use fantasy a day instead of twelve, and your daydreams only occasionally feature tentacle monsters. You do like to torture Shin with breeding kink scenarios, but that's only once a day, and they never involve any other guys. Shin considers this a victory, respite from the psychic agony that he was previously experiencing.

There's just one problem.

You want to kiss Shin all the time now, and it's making him feel like the horniest person alive.

He can't believe it. He doesn't have a particularly strong sex drive, and he rarely ever has sexual fantasies. But holy shit is he having them a lot now, and he can't say it's strictly your fault.

You spend most of the day now thinking about what it felt like to kiss him in bed, and what it felt like to hold his hand as he moved inside you, and what it felt like to be in his arms afterwards. What it would feel like if you were to do those things that you used to hate—kissing someone, linking fingers, embracing them—with Shin. Not just in bed, but on a regular day, out in the open. In a secluded park somewhere, or maybe at the top of a Ferris wheel, or even on a random street corner if the mood is right. All of these daydreams are usually followed by very explicit fantasies about public, unprotected sex, but the kissing is the most important part of it. The subsequent creampies are pretty significant too, but not nearly as much as the bits where you make out.

And somehow, the thought of cumming in you is not the part of the fantasy that's driving Shin crazy.

You give him a meaningful look. A week ago, this would have been a sign that you wanted him to bend you over the counter and give you backshots. Now it means you want to sneak away to kiss him and hold hands, and this makes him want to do things to you that would get him fired immediately.

Shin sighs, and he contemplates shoving himself into the freezer.

END

I wrote this with one hand and did not proofread it. my apologies if you see any errors. I just needed to be free of these thoughts asap. release me...

PS - I know the Resident Evil/Leon Kennedy mention must have felt very random, but it's set-up for potential future sequels haha.

[ai-musclebound]

He froze, the fabric of his shirt still bunched in his massive hand. His eyes widened, his lips parted as though to say something, but no words came out. He was stunned. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. “Armdriving?” he repeated, his voice low and hesitant, as though testing the idea for the first time. “You think I could… be good at it?” The guy had laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good? Man, look at those hands! They’re made for it. You’d crush everyone. And hey, it’s not just fun – you can make real money. If you get to the top, you can make a career out of it. Travel, sponsorships, the works.” The words echoed in his head as he stared at his own hand, still clutching his shirt. His fingers, thick and strong, seemed to tremble slightly as the weight of the idea settled over him. His hands – the same hands that had broken toys as a kid, that had made every handshake awkward, that had always felt like a burden – were being called a gift. A talent. He’d spent so long resenting them, feeling like they didn’t belong to him, like they were more curse than blessing. But now, for the first time, he saw them differently. He turned his hand slightly, studying the rough knuckles, the broad palm, the veins that snaked over the surface like tree roots. Maybe… maybe they weren’t useless after all. Maybe they weren’t just clumsy, oversized tools. “People make money doing this?” he asked again, his voice quieter now, as if he didn’t want to admit how much hope the idea gave him. “Hell yeah,” the guy had replied with a grin. “And with hands like yours? You’d be unstoppable.” Unstoppable. The word clung to him, strange and unfamiliar but exciting. He let go of his shirt, his hand falling to his side, but his eyes stayed fixed on it. The gears in his mind began to turn, the doubts and insecurities he’d carried for years starting to loosen their grip. For the first time, he didn’t see his hands as a burden. He saw them as an opportunity.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

How about something new (eyyy) to talk about? Tô spice things up? Thoughts and/or head canons on omega chara from ultratale/Vitaltale?

Omega Chara would never write out their nickname as like Omega, it’d be like the Greek alphabet letter: Ω.

I was reading up on the two wikis, and it seems like Nightmare, this version of Chara has definitely reached their Moral Event Horizon. They are irredeemable and there’s no going back or being redeemed for them.

Of course this is possibly due to whole evil chara thing back in the day, but if we consider the possibility of what could’ve lead what we know of the person Undertale Chara was to become who Ω is, I think there’s potential.

It seems like Ω’s goal was not to repeatedly kill Monsterkind over and over and make them suffer. They got rid of the Reset deliberately, as if they wanted to kill all of Monsterkind, Frisk, and possibly even themself permanently. Either via just leaving an empty Underground behind for the rest of humankind to find, or to destroy and Erase the world completely.

According to Google, Omega (Ω) has multiple meanings, that could even provide some proof for that— “including the 24th and final letter of the Greek alphabet. It has a value of 800 in the Greek numeric system and literally translates to "great O". As the last letter, Omega can signify an ending, the ultimate limit of a set, or a "Great End".

It can also represent a grand closure, like the conclusion of a major event. Omega can also be used as slang to mean "ultimately", "most", or "supremely.”’

Another thing that’s different about Ω from Undertale Chara is that Ω wants to kill Monsterkind, whereas Undertale Chara’s issues always seemed to be with their own kind; humanity, humans.

On that note, it’s unclear if Ω is even human or ever was human. Taking a look at this photo below:

You will see that there is an upside down white monster soul inside the red upright red human soul, Frisk’s soul. Which Ω is said to have absorbed, which is what got rid of Frisk’s ability to Reset completely.

And this line in one of the Wikis certainly helps, “As of now, this is the only Pure Evil counterpart of Chara who doesn't appear to be a human, instead being a monster who looks vaguely humanoid.”

Was Ω always a monster, even in life, or did they die a human, and come back..wrong? It’s implied that they helped Frisk on their original Genocide at first, so when Frisk eventually tried to go back on it, did Ω want to punish them by permanently taking away the ones Frisk held a perverted sentimentality for?

Or did Frisk (or us), unknowingly or not, teach an undead, confused child that their purpose in this new life is to truly embrace being the demon that comes when you call its name? Was Ω’s attempt to get rid of the Reset just an elaborate genocidal murder suicide? Did they believe that all of Monsterkind should die, including themself, if they were somehow no longer human or never were?

Perhaps it isn’t just guilt for failing Frisk that Delta feels, but Chara as well. Because most children don’t become like that without something behind it, some reason—even if it was as simple as Chara had learned to enjoy it and embrace it, they couldn’t have always been like that.

I wonder if Delta also has difficulties looking at Killer’s soul for too long— especially when it’s in Stage 1. Every time he looks at it for too long his abdomen starts burning, and he can almost feel the agonizing pain as if he’s being cut in half all over again.

The white, the red, the hearts—all remind of that sadistic, murderous child that seemed hellbent on death, on permanence, on finality, on an ending.

Perhaps, in a way, some part of Delta wonders if they were never a child at all; instead the Angel, who had seen the surface, come to empty the Underground. Or the world.

[humming-fly]

This 4th of July I’m stealing the patriotism euphoria that’s usually associated with assholes idolizing the worst attributes of this country because fuck ‘em I live here too and remembering the things this country actually got Right is an important exercise when trying to rally anyone to want to defend it in November SO putting my money where my mouth is I’ll start easy and say I really like National Parks!! It’s rad how many of them there are and how they’re actual set up to preserve some of the most beautiful wild areas in our country while still letting people visit to enjoy and experience nature!! (Less important but I love how they put national parks on the quarters I think that’s real fun)

Feel free to add on if something speaks to ya!

[mrmeepsmadmind]

SOCIETY KEEPS KILLING ONE OF THEM BCS THEIR FRIENDSHIP WOULD BE INCAPABLE FOR GALAXIES TO HANDLE !!!!!

[random-autie-fangirl]

I drew another Chara- living with the Dreemurrs edition

"The King and Queen treated the human child as their own. The underground was filled with hope."

I don't like this as much as the last one but oh well... I ended up rambling a huge amount in the tag, so if you want details and headcanons about the actual drawing again, you'll have to look pretty far down this time, sorry (Also, I ran out of tags after a while. Tumblr is tired of me, lol. I might reblog this more tags later if I remember what I was going to say.)