#but she still wants all she’s ever wanted
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Pornstar/ camgirl reader who was a little in over her head when she claimed she could fuck every type of monster cock.
You honestly figured it would take a couple of months at most but no. It has spiralled way out of control and now this is what you are known for. Most of the viewership tune in just to see if you're still going strong with it and who are you to disappoint a paying audience?
It started out easy enough, you got raw dogged by a dragon, womb fucked by some good old orc cock, claimed by wearwolf knots, rough housed with some goblins, sucked some vampires dry and got creampied by a minotaur.
But as it went on you had to find more and more precarious ways to actually fuck the monster cocks in question; You convinced some mercreatures to put some eggs in you in exchange for 5 pounds of raw meat. You got stuck in a slime breeding pit for about 3 hours. You summoned a demon who wasn't all too pleased about being used as a booty call. You had to use some magic bullshit just so you could take centaur, troll and giant cock
You've dug yourself a hole now, unable to get out. How are you supposed to fuck aliens if they won't abduct you, even when you strip and parade yourself around some farmers crop circles? You've gone to multiple haunted locations just trying to find some ghost dick. You've camped out in the woods far more than you've ever wanted to just searching for more elusive monsters like Mothman, Bigfoot, faeries and skinwalkers.
You're now an honorary cryptozooligist and literally all you wanted was a goddamn bag and some good dick.
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in his eyes
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Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Summary: it doesn't matter what people say on the internet, because Lando loves you.
Word count: 3.3k+
Warnings: giving birth, angst, fluff, insecurity, nasty people on the internet
A/N:
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
The room was still and peaceful. After hours of pain and screaming, it was finally quiet. You could hear the faint beeping of the heart monitor in the background, but it was as if everything else had faded away. In that sacred silence, your heart felt fuller than it ever had before.
Lando’s voice broke through the quiet again, but this time, it was a little more hesitant, as if he were trying to put words to the flood of emotions swirling in his chest. “I always dreamed of this moment... but seeing her here, in my arms... it’s so much more than I imagined.”
Your heart swelled at his words. You had always known how much he longed for this day—how much he dreamed of becoming a father. But to witness it, to see him holding their daughter with such reverence, was beyond anything you could have ever expected.
“She’s so tiny,” you whispered, leaning in a little closer to get a better look at the little girl in Lando’s arms. "It’s hard to believe she’s ours."
Lando nodded, his thumb gently stroking the baby’s tiny hand, his gaze never leaving her face. “I just want to protect her. I want to give her everything. She’s going to have the best life.”
You smiled, feeling tears well up in your eyes again. You had always known Lando was capable of deep love, but seeing him like this, seeing him so vulnerable, made you fall even deeper in love with him.
“I have no doubt, Lando,” you said softly. “She’s going to have everything she needs... and more.”
Lando turned his head toward you for the first time since he’d been holding their daughter, his eyes glistening with emotion. He smiled, a soft, loving smile that melted your heart. “I couldn’t have asked for a better partner. I can't believe she's mine as much as I can't believe I'm yours. We’re in this together.”
You reached out to gently stroke the side of his face, your thumb tracing the curve of his jaw. His words meant everything to you. There was no one else you’d rather share this moment, this journey, with. "I feel the same. You're going to be the best dad, Lando."
He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’ll try my best. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’s happy.”
The quiet room filled with the sound of a small yawn from your daughter, followed by the soft rustling of blankets. Lando chuckled softly, clearly enchanted by the tiny noise. “She’s already got her own little personality, huh?”
You both laughed quietly, and the sound felt like music, the kind of sound that made everything else in the world feel right. “I think she’s definitely going to keep us on our toes.”
Lando nodded, but his eyes were still soft and full of awe. "I'm ready for that. As long as we’re together... we can handle anything."
Your heart fluttered as you looked at him, this man who had been your partner, your best friend, and now, the father of your child. There were no words to fully capture the depth of what you felt in that moment. All that mattered was that you were here, together, in this perfect little bubble of love with your daughter.
“She’s going to love you so much, Lando,” you whispered, your voice full of certainty.
He smiled at you, a rare vulnerability in his eyes as he gazed at their daughter again. “I already love her more than I ever thought possible.”
As the moments passed, the three of you simply existed in this space, letting the world outside the hospital room fade away. There was no rush, no need for anything other than this precious time you had together, letting the quiet joy of the moment fill every corner of your hearts.
Lando's voice was low and full of affection as he spoke again, almost as if to himself. “This... this is everything I’ve ever wanted. You, her... us.”
You nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "And we're just getting started."
The first few weeks after giving birth were a whirlwind of emotions, adjustments, and challenges. Your body was healing, and there were days when you felt overwhelmed by the exhaustion. Physical recovery was tough, and mentally, you wondered if you were doing enough. The sleepless nights, the constant feeding, the emotional rollercoaster—it was all a lot to process. But through it all, Lando was there.
You often found him hovering around you like a quiet guardian, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. The first night you came home from the hospital, Lando insisted on taking the baby for a few hours to give you some rest. You were still recovering from the birth, and the thought of trying to breastfeed, soothe the baby, and manage the pain seemed overwhelming. But Lando stepped in without hesitation.
"I’ve got her, Y/N. You rest," he said, his voice soothing and steady as he gently took their daughter into his arms. You had to fight the urge to stay up, but you trusted him. You allowed yourself to close your eyes, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you slept soundly for a few hours, knowing your baby was safe and loved.
When you woke up, the sight that greeted you made your heart swell. Lando was sitting on the couch, holding the baby against his bare chest. His face, usually so focused and intense, was softened in a way you had never seen before. He gazed at her with such love and tenderness, whispering sweet words to her as she napped peacefully in his arms.
" I know I said it like a hundred times already but, she’s perfect, Y/N. Absolutely perfect," Lando had said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to disturb the serenity of the moment.
He made sure you didn’t feel the weight of the housework either. Whenever the dishes piled up, Lando was the one to wash them, even when he had been working on the simulator for hours or when the demands of his racing career were overwhelming. "I’ve got it. You just relax. You’ve done enough," he’d tell you. He even took on the responsibility of cooking, though you could tell his meals weren’t quite as delicious as when you were in charge. But it didn’t matter—what mattered was the effort, the care, the thoughtfulness he put into everything.
Lando was constantly reassuring you when you doubted yourself. He saw the way your shoulders would slump after a long day of caring for the baby, how the sleepless nights began to take their toll, and he’d be there to remind you that you were doing an amazing job. When you expressed how hard it was to adjust to motherhood and how difficult it felt to bounce back physically, Lando was quick to reassure you.
“You’re incredible. You brought life into the world, Y/N. That’s something amazing. You are enough,” he said with conviction, never once faltering in his support.
There were nights when the baby would cry, and Lando would take the lead, waking up to comfort her before you had even opened your eyes. He’d hold her, rock her gently, and whisper soft lullabies to her, making sure she felt safe and loved while you caught a few more hours of sleep. His patience was endless.
Sometimes, when you’d express that you didn’t feel like yourself, that you didn’t look like yourself, Lando would gently take your face in his hands, his eyes filled with love. “You’re the same Y/N I fell in love with. You’ll always be her. Nothing about you has changed, except maybe... you’re even more beautiful now,” he’d say with a warm, playful smile, easing the weight of your worries with his words.
Lando’s support wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, too. He never let you feel alone in this new chapter of your life. When you cried from the frustration of sleepless nights or the pressure of balancing it all, Lando would simply pull you into his arms. “I’m here, Y/N. We’re in this together,” he’d say, as you let the tears fall.
Even when you doubted whether you could be the kind of mother you imagined yourself to be, Lando believed in you completely. "I’ve never seen anyone do what you do with as much strength and love as you have. We’re a team," he’d remind you over and over again.
And he was right. He never let you feel like you were doing it alone. When you struggled, he didn’t hesitate to pick up the slack. Whether it was handling late-night feedings or changing diapers, he did it all with a quiet grace that made you admire him more than ever.
In those early weeks, as you both navigated the unfamiliar waters of parenthood, it became clear to you just how deeply Lando cared—not just for you, but for your little family. He did everything with the thought of making your life a little easier, even when he was running on empty himself.
"You’ve given me the greatest gift, Y/N," he told you one evening, after putting the baby to sleep. “And I’m so thankful for both of you.”
You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I couldn’t do it without you.”
Lando smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to,” he promised. "I’m always going to be here."
And in that moment, you knew—you were never alone.
One sunny afternoon, you felt like you had enough energy to step outside. The last few weeks had been a blur of late nights, feedings, and tender moments with Lando and your baby. You loved every second of it, but you also needed a break, a small taste of normalcy. You had always enjoyed little walks and small outings with Lando, and today, you wanted to do something nice for him. He’d been so incredible, taking on the lion’s share of the care and support, and you wanted to return the favor.
So, you decided to walk to your favorite bakery. The idea was simple: get a couple of your favorite pastries as a treat for both of you. It would give you some fresh air and a little exercise, and you couldn’t wait to surprise Lando with something sweet. You’d always shared a love for pastries, and there was something comforting about going there alone, just to clear your mind for a while.
As you strolled down the street, the air felt crisp and refreshing. Your body was still adjusting, but with each step, you felt a bit more like yourself. It was the first time in a while that you didn’t feel overwhelmed, and you even caught yourself smiling at the thought of Lando, who was back at home taking care of the baby.
When you arrived at the bakery, you paused for a moment to take in the familiar, cozy atmosphere. The warm, inviting smell of freshly baked goods hit you, and you felt comforted by the thought of how much Lando would appreciate this little gesture. As you stood in line, your fingers fiddled with your phone, glancing at the screen before it was your turn to order.
“Hi, I’ll have two of the almond croissants and one of the chocolate eclairs, please,” you said, giving the cashier a friendly smile.
But then, as you stood there waiting for your order, you heard the sound of giggles behind you. You barely registered it at first, but then it came again—a group of girls, no older than your mid-twenties, talking and laughing loudly.
“You know, I saw Y/N out in public the other day…” one of them said, her voice dripping with that judgmental tone. “She’s huge now. Like, I know she had a baby, but how can she just let herself go like that?”
The other girls snickered in agreement. “Lando deserves someone better than her,” one of them added. “I mean, he could have anyone, right? Why stay with someone who just let themselves go like that?”
The words felt like a sharp slap to the chest, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to blur. You didn’t know whether to cry, shout, or just run out of the bakery. They weren’t whispering or trying to hide it—they were speaking loudly, thinking you wouldn’t hear. But you did. Every word stung.
You wanted to turn around and say something, to defend yourself, but instead, you kept your eyes on the counter, trying to hold it together as the cashier bagged your pastries. You could feel the heat rise to your face, the tears pricking at the back of your eyes. It had been so long since you’d felt self-conscious, and yet, their words dug up insecurities you had worked so hard to bury.
You paid for the pastries with a forced smile, muttering a polite “Thank you,” before quickly exiting the bakery. You had to get home. You needed to get away from the cruel laughter that still echoed in your ears.
Once you were back home, the door clicked shut behind you, and you stood there for a moment, taking in the quiet of the house. You set the pastries down on the kitchen counter, the warm scent of fresh-baked goods filling the air, but it did little to lift the weight that had settled in your chest. You could still hear the words from the bakery echoing in your mind, the sting of the comments, and the cruel judgments of people who didn’t know you or what you’d been through.
With a sigh, you rubbed your eyes, exhausted both physically and emotionally. Your heart was heavy, and it felt like everything was crashing down around you. Lando had been so caring, so supportive, and you didn’t want to burden him with this—it wasn’t fair to him. He had done so much to make you feel loved and beautiful, and here you were, doubting it all because of a few words from strangers.
You took a deep breath, trying to shake it off. You didn’t want to ruin this moment—this quiet, peaceful time at home with your family. So instead of seeking out Lando, you slipped quietly into the living room, phone in hand, and tried to lose yourself in something else.
You knew scrolling through social media wasn’t healthy—especially right now—but it felt like a distraction, something to fill the empty space in your mind. But the moment you unlocked your phone, it all came crashing in. The familiar blue light illuminated the room, but instead of calming you, it brought a flood of negativity.
The comments began to pour in, one after another, and with each notification, your chest tightened. The words were sharp, cruel.
"She’s disgusting." "Lando should dump her and find someone who takes care of themselves."
The comments continued to pile on, each one worse than the last. "Fat," "ugly," "why does she think she’s still worthy of him?" They cut through you like daggers, tearing into every insecurity, every vulnerability you’d tried so hard to hide. The words hit you harder than you could have imagined, and it felt like the air was being sucked out of your lungs. Your heart ached as your eyes filled with tears.
Before you knew it, the tears were flowing, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. The hurtful words from the bakery combined with the hateful comments made everything feel too overwhelming. You wiped your face quickly, but the tears wouldn’t stop.
It wasn’t long before you heard footsteps upstairs. Lando had gone up to check on the baby, and now, his soft footsteps echoed down the stairs as he walked back into the living room. When his eyes found you, his expression immediately shifted from calm to concern. His gaze locked onto your red, tear-streaked face, and he froze, clearly taken aback by the sight.
"Y/N…" he said softly, his voice full of worry as he rushed over to where you sat. "What’s wrong?"
You hesitated for a moment, trying to hide the phone in your lap, but he could see the pain in your eyes. He knelt down in front of you, gently taking the phone from your hand. You didn’t have the strength to say anything, so you simply let him read what was on the screen.
His face darkened immediately as he scanned the words. The anger was evident in the tightening of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils. “What the hell is this?” he asked, his voice sharp and protective. His fingers clenched the phone as his eyes lifted to meet yours, filled with disbelief and fury.
“These people… they don’t know anything about you. About us,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. The softness in his expression faltered as he took in the full weight of your hurt. He sat down beside you, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you gently into his chest.
“Y/N…” he whispered again, his voice soft but full of conviction. “Listen to me. You are amazing. You gave me our beautiful daughter, and your body—your beautiful, strong body—did something incredible. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Inside and out.”
The words melted your heart, but it was still hard to fight the weight of the hurt. You sniffled, resting your face against his chest, your voice breaking. “But the comments… they’re right. I don’t look like I used to. I don’t—”
Lando pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “Don’t you dare,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve never looked more beautiful to me. Not once, not ever. You’re the woman I love. These people? They can say whatever they want, but they don’t get to decide how I see you.”
His words washed over you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the tight knot in your chest began to loosen. He cupped your face gently in his hands, his eyes full of love as he whispered, “If all the women in the world gathered together and shouted it, they couldn’t ever suppress your whisper. You’re perfect, Y/N.”
A fresh wave of tears stung your eyes, but they weren’t from sadness this time—they were from the overwhelming love you felt in this moment. Lando leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual.
“I’ll always see you for who you truly are,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth and tenderness. “And if they don’t see it… that’s their problem. But as for me? I’m right here, loving you more every day.”
You laughed softly through your tears, feeling the tension in your chest dissolve. Lando’s playful tone lifted your spirits even more. "And let’s be honest," he added with a cheeky grin, "even if all of them did shout, I’d still be right here. Loving you. And no one can change that."
The gentle teasing helped lighten your heart, and for the first time in hours, you felt a small flicker of hope. Lando was right. His love for you wasn’t based on anything as fleeting as looks. It was about who you were, what you’d been through together, and the life you’d created. No one could take that away.
Lando pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips—gentle and reassuring, as if to seal the promise of his words. And for the first time since you left the bakery, you allowed yourself to believe it. You were enough. You were perfect, just as you were.
And you were loved, more than you could ever imagine.
#fluff#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x wife!reader#dad!lando norris#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x fem!reader#lando norris x yn#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris f1#f1 imagines#f1#f1 one shot#f1 imagine#f1 fic#formula one#formula one fic#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#ln4 x reader#ln4#lando norris fic rec#formula one x reader#formula one x you#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader
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mortal habits
summary: the act of patching up small cuts and bruises is so exceedingly mortal, something azriel has never worried about. until she kneels in front of him, fretting.
word count: about 1k
warnings/tags; archeron!reader, fem!reader (she/her pronouns) ummmm this is Not Good & not beta'd.
notes: i make my return for azriel... since my last fic (in the year of 2022! insane!) i have started reading a lot again, i've settled into my job and i've started writing again. how exciting. this is a disaster of a fic. it's been awhile. hopefully i write mooooooooore though, i do miss it.
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Azriel had been through worse. Far worse. He had lived through two wars. Had completed the Blood Rite. Trained alongside Cassian and Rhys for centuries. His hands had been burned, scarred and permanently altered. His wings had been torn before.
So he had been through worse.
The cuts across his torso were minor, already closing, and the bruises blooming along his ribs would be gone in hours. His Siphons hummed faintly, magic stitching him together even as he sat, still and quiet, on the edge of your bed.
He could handle pain. He had handled pain his entire life.
But this? This was different.
You knelt before him, brow furrowed in concentration, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you dabbed an ointment onto a particularly nasty gash just beneath his collarbone. You had practically manhandled him into this spot, told him to not move as you retrieved the jar of ointment Madja had given you for your own cuts when you had been training with Nesta.
At any point before you knelt before him, he could have been honest and told you it wasn't necessary. That by the time you moved on with your day and joined Feyre in her studio or Nesta in the library, the wounds would be nothing to him. Scratches he will eventually forget he ever had.
“I swear, Az,” you mutter, dipping your fingers into the little glass jar beside you. Your nails have gotten longer. Painted a pretty blue that looks eerily familiar. “I don’t know how you’re still walking around after all of this.”
Azriel huffs a quiet laugh. “I heal fast.”
You shoot him a look—one of those unimpressed, sharp glances that remind him exactly who your sisters are. Rhys sometimes says that when Feyre looks at him, he feels like bowing down. Cassian constantly says he's at Nesta's mercy.
Azriel thinks he finally understands the sentiment. He would kneel to you, make himself at your mercy. He would bend to your will.
He smiles down at you. Your sharp eyes narrow in a way that always seem to make his shadows curl around him in amusement, like they also find you cute. “That doesn’t mean you don’t feel it.” You say.
He doesn't reply. Because he knows you're right. And because the gentle press of your fingers against his skin makes his throat tighten in a way that had nothing to do with pain.
Because he wants you to keep touching him.
It was such a mortal thing, this tending to cuts and bruises. Rhysand and Cassian would have waved you off with a smirk and told you it was pointless. Maybe even laughed at the naivety of it, at the idea of warriors tending to these small injuries like they were huge inconveniences.
You weren’t a warrior though. You hadn’t grown up knowing the brutality of being an Illyrian. And you didn't grow up with the efficiency of fae healing. To you, wounds meant something—they weren't just small things that could be shrugged off but proof that someone you cared about had been hurt. They were proof that someone you cared about was not invincible.
So he lets you fuss over him, lets you press too-gentle fingers to his ribs. He forces his breathing to remain even when your nails scratch over his stomach by accident and you offer him an apologetic smile.
It was sweet. Infuriatingly, heartbreakingly sweet how you tended to these cuts and bruises like they were fatal.
“You don’t have to do this,” he murmurs, watching as you smoothed the salve over his shoulder, fingertips lingering against his skin.
You shrug, continuing to touch him. "I want to.” You say simply.
He swallowed hard. Nobody had ever wanted to take care of him. At least, not like this. Madja was always there for the inner circle. His brothers loved him, so did Mor and Amren in her own way, maybe. But nobody had ever wanted to take care of him. Not in this simplistic way.
He glances down where your fingers dance across his collar bone. Watches your hands as they examine the bruises along his chest.
Your hands were so different from his. Soft where his were scarred, warm where his were cold. They didn't know battle, did not know pain in the way his did. And yet, they were careful with him. As if he were something fragile. Something you wanted to take care of.
No one had ever touched him like this before.
You pull your hands away, sit back on your heels and tilt your head at him. Then you grin, devastatingly beautiful. “There,” you say with quiet satisfaction. “Not perfect, but it’ll do.”
Azriel wanted to tell you that it was perfect, anything you did was perfect. That the ache in his ribs had nothing to do with the fight and everything to do with the way you were looking at him now—soft, fond, completely unaware of the chaos you created inside his chest.
Instead, he reaches out, brushing his fingers lightly over your cheek. A quiet thank-you, unspoken but understood because he knew you understood him.
Your lips part slightly, breath catching, and for a moment—just a moment—he let himself believe that this was something he could have. That this tenderness was meant for him.
Then you smile, small and knowing, like you could read every single thought Azriel had. Like you understood why his heart was racing.
Azriel’s fingers linger against your cheek, scarred and rough, but you didn't flinch and he didn't pull away. You just sat there, looking at him like he was something more than shadows and scar and unworthiness.
“Az,” you murmur, voice the softest that he's ever heard it, like you knew his mind had trickled into thoughts of not being good enough for this, for you.
He swallowed hard. He should pull away, stand and urge you to stand up with him. Should let his hand fall away and bury whatever this feeling he has beneath layers of duty and restraint. Go back downstairs and join the rest of your family at the kitchen table.
But you were still kneeling before him, still so close, and he could see the way your lashes fluttered, the way your lips parted, like you felt this as much as he did.
He was an idiot.
A complete, utter idiot.
Because instead of pulling away, his thumb brushes over your cheekbone, barely a whisper of a touch, and he says, “You shouldn’t waste your time on this.”
Your brows knit together, and you reach up, wrapping your fingers around his wrist before he could retreat. “Why not?”
His throat tightened. “Because it’s pointless.” It is. Not the tending to cuts, not your mortal practice, doing this for him. Wasting your time worrying over him, was pointless.
Your grip doesn't falter. If anything, it only grows firmer, grounding him. “I don’t think it is.” You say softly.
Azriel inhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head, but you don't let him look away. You tilt your head again, studying him the way you always did—like he was something you wanted to figure out.
“Just because you heal fast,” you say slowly, carefully, “doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be taken care of.”
Something in his chest cracked, splintering apart under the weight of your words. No one had ever said something like that to him before. No one had ever looked at him like this before.
Like he was something worth taking care of. He had never been afforded this gentleness.
He let out a breath, slow and uneven, and decides to allow himself one more indulgence—just one. He turns his hand, catching yours in his grasp, and he squeezes.
“I’m fine,” he murmurs, even though the words feel like a lie. Maybe they are one.
You let out a soft, exasperated laugh. “Of course you are.” You say, but you don't let go. You just sit there, hand wrapped around his, warm and steady and real.
Azriel should let go. He should get up, finally put space between you and remind himself of all the reasons why this—you—were not his to have.
Azriel doesn't let go though, and neither did you.
The silence between you stretches on, but it's comfortable. His mind may be warring and his heart may be racing, but silences with you were never anything but comfortable. It was like you knew how to exist with him. Like you knew he needed a moment to sort his thoughts out.
And the truth was, his thoughts were coming down to the fact that he was afraid to want this. Afraid of what it would mean for his relationship with Rhys and your sister. Would Rhys see him worthy of one of Feyre's sisters? Would Feyre? Would they confirm every thought he's ever had about himself?
(Did it matter? If you looked at him like this? If you touched him like this? Did it matter what anybody else thought?)
Your free hand lifts between the two of you and he startles out of his thoughts. You smile gently as your nails trace the edge of his jaw softly before gently cupping his cheek.
His pulse stutters. He's touch starved and desperate for you. Azriel's eyes flicker between yours, searching for doubt or fear or disgust, something to prove to him that he shouldn't do this.
But he finds none, and he's done fighting, so he lets his eyes slide shut. He lets himself lean into your touch.
(He doesn't see your eyes flickering down to his lips. He has no clue that your own heart is racing in your chest. Azriel is completely unaware that for so long, since you came out of that cauldron irrevocably different, all you've wanted is him.)
He can only feel your hand, still wrapped in his, tense with nerves. He can feel the hesitant brush of your lips against his and he inhales sharply.
Then he kisses you. Any ounce of restraint he had, which hadn't been much, disappears.
His hand moves to cup your face instead of staying intertwined with yours and his fingers thread through your hair as he pulls you closer. Your legs extend into a tall kneel at his urging.
You shift so your front is almost fully pressed against him, your hands holding onto his waist. It's a little awkward and entirely uncomfortable for his back and your knees, but neither of you care all that much. His wings expand around you two, his shadows swirl in excitement.
Your arms move to wrap around his neck and your breasts press against his chest when you do so. He makes a quiet, desperate sound against your mouth before kissing you harder, as if he’d been starving for this. He supposes he has been.
From the moment he saw you in the mortal lands. From the second a scream tore from his lungs when you were dumped into the cauldron and then dumped back out. He has starved for you. For this. For your touch. For your body to be pressed against his like this.
Your hands shift to his shoulders, fingertips running over warm skin and fresh-healed wounds, but he doesn't care. This had never been about the wounds. All he had wanted is you with him, if he was being honest.
When you had seen him come inside from training with Rhys and Cassian and gasped at the cuts while you ran your fingers across his torso and back, he had been vibrating with want. When you had wrapped a hand around his wrist and pulled him towards your room because you had a jar of salve, he had gone willingly, just wanting to be in your space.
Not because he cared about these cuts. But because he cared about you.
Your lips part against his and his tongue slides into your mouth. Both of you groan and he presses so close to you that neither of you are truly sure where one of you starts and the other ends. He kisses you like he's not entirely sure he'll ever get to kiss you again.
And when two you finally, finally, pull away—just enough to catch your breath—his forehead drops to yours, his chest rising and falling in sync with your own.
His eyes open slowly. They meet yours, still sharp but now even more beautiful and dazed.
You smile at him, breathless. “Not so pointless now, is it?” You tease. "My care regiment."
Azriel lets out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head as his thumb traced along your cheek. “Not even a little. Do you always kiss your patients?"
You laugh, a little like you can't believe he made that joke. "Just the very pretty, Illryian shadowsingers." You say quietly with a bright grin.
And what kind of male would he be if he didn't kiss you again?
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notes: i fear i do still suck at endings. i also have gotten worse at accepting criticism so pls be nice <3
#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#azriel imagine#azriel x fem!reader#azriel x archeron!reader#how do i tag this#a court of thorns and roses#shadowsinger#my writing
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Big Day - MV1
Pairing: Max Verstappen x singlemom!reader
Word Count: 1k+
Warning: dad!max, no use of y/n but daughters name is Aria, fluff. Part 2 to my girls
A/N: shorter than i thought it would be but still happy with it
F1 Masterlist / Masterlist
The weekend Max and Aria were looking forward to finally came. Aria's first time attending a grand prix. After finding out about her racing obsession Max promised to take her to a grand prix when the new season rolled around. What better grand prix to start with than the Monaco Grand Prix? At first, you were hesitant, not knowing how she would handle the crazy environment. It wasn't until Max took you to a few races and introduced you to Nico Hulkenberg and Kevin Magnussen that it calmed your nerves. Seeing their kids in the paddock gave you all the security you needed, along with Max promising to have at least two Red Bull personnel with you both at all times.
The weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix rolled around. The streets slowly converted into the iconic track and fans flying in from all over the world. All of this made little Aria excited. Every time you were in the car Max would point out all the details to her, a smile spreading across her face every time.
You agreed with her going all three days. There was still hesitance on whether she would like the energy of the paddock so you wanted to slowly build it up for when race day arrived. Max was happy you agreed to allow her to come to all three days. He had big plans. First, he would show her everything from the motorhome to parts of the track and then have her sit in the car for the grand finale.
He walked in proudly with Aria in his arms and clutched your hand with his free one. He didn't even try to hide the big smile on his face. From scanning your passes to meeting the drivers passing by, Aria enjoyed every second. A big upgrade from the living room TV screen.
"Are you ready to see the car?" Max asked Aria as they inched closer to the red bull garage.
"YES YES YES!" She yelled out making the both of you chuckle.
When the car came into view she recognized it instantly. Letting out a squeal capturing all the attention of everyone in the garage. The team already knew you. Max made it a point at your first grand prix that you were to feel welcomed and that everyone recognized your face so you would be comfortable when he was off working. Looking around you saw the confused faces of his team. They were probably thinking. "who was this little girl?" "why is Max carrying her around?" "did he have a secret child?-No, they would have known about that, right?"
Max's voice broke you out of your thoughts, "Do you want to get in the car?"
With the biggest smile on her face and wide eyes, a soft tone came out "Can I?"
"Of course, you can baby."
"Tanks yous!" she said wrapping her little hands around his neck tighter, bringing him into a hug which he gladly gave in, melting into her hold. At that moment you could see him planning to bring her to every race.
"Anything for my biggest fan. Here, let's get you in." Before he placed her into the cockpit he kissed her cheek making her giggle. Once she was seated her eyes locked onto all the buttons and the different colors. She knew not to touch anything that wasn't her's so her hands were fidgeting with the Red Bull kit she wore, per Max's request.
"Mama! Look!" Aria looked up beaming with the biggest smile you've ever seen. That alone was worth all the worrying for the past few months. Smiling at the little girl, you pulled out your phone to take as many pictures as your camera roll could hold.
"I wanna race!" she exclaimed as her little hands were holding the steering wheel handles, the only thing that didn't have a button that she could touch.
Looking at Max, you could see how his eyes had softened. The smile on his face never flattered. He remembered his first day karting and how much fun it was just to race. If his little girl wanted to, he was going to make it happen.
"If you wanna race, I'll teach you. We can get you into karting if that is okay with mama?" He asked looking over to you with a pleading expression. Max never begged for anything, so for him to beg you to let your daughter race was a sight to see.
"plwese mama!" she used her puppy dog's, similar to Max's pleading eyes. How could you say no? You trusted Max and if this was going to make both of them happy, why not give it a shot?
With a small smile on your face, you gave in, "Okay baby, if you want to."
"yes!" Her little voice exclaimed turning to Max to give a victory hi-five.
After a few more minutes, Max pulled her out of the car and headed to the pit wall, the last stop on the little tour. You sat on one of the chairs while Max sat across from you with Aria still in his arms. If it were up to him, he wouldn't let her go at all. This was one of his favorite days and nothing could top it.
"tanks you dada," Aria mumbled into Max's neck. He turned to you with a shocked expression making you giggle.
For weeks when he wasn't around she would let it slip. Whether it was seeing him on TV or just mentioning his name. You didn't think there would be a day where she saw someone as a father figure, let alone calling them dad, but seeing how great he is with her you couldn't tell her to stop. It was her choice, after all. Silently, you told him it was okay with you.
"Anything for you my baby girl." He hugged her tightly, making the little girl giggle. Making you both his girls was the best choice he's ever made.
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine
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THE JUDGE | Waking the Demon
Male reader x Shuhua, Soyeon
word count: 7.1k words
tags: brat shuhua, threesome, thighjob, titjob, rough stuff, breeding
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Miraculously you had managed to go buy the pill for Miyeon before the 12 hours had passed, but you almost forgot about it in all the chaos that was the rest of the party.
When you went up to the room, people were already a bit crazy, nothing out of the ordinary for a party for people your age and above all, nothing that couldn't be controlled. Now, when you went down again, things had already gotten completely out of hand. Yuqi was making a complete fool of herself, rolling around the living room floor laughing with Xiaoting, who no longer seemed as shy as a few hours ago; both drunk, like 80% of the people in the house at that time. Minnie had fallen asleep on a damn dining room chair, you didn't really know how. Soyeon was taking care of the Lightsum girls, two of whom were dancing on top of sofas and the other was making out with a boy you didn't know by face.
Yeh Shuhua, on the other hand, had disappeared without saying anything to anyone. The gossip was that she had left in the car of that guy you had seen her with earlier—who you later found out was called Ezio—and two other girls. Soyeon had told you that she got tired of blowing up her phone with calls, and that even so, Shuhua didn't deign to answer. In fact, at the last attempts her phone appeared to be turned off, on purpose, probably. Your girlfriend had a small anxiety attack about it, until around noon she received a text from her letting her know that everything was fine and where she was exactly so she wouldn't be alarmed. Of course, Soyeon gave her a huge scolding, both for leaving without warning and for not answering the calls, but Shuhua cared little or nothing, so the matter was quickly forgotten.
Back to your life, after that day your relationship with Soyeon and the girls went to a level you couldn't have imagined in your wildest dreams. They had become fuck buddies with you, Miyeon now being the newest addition to that little deal you had going on between you all. Soyeon had absolute priority as your girlfriend, but you and the girls could fuck with or without her. However, the potential rebel was the only one who was still not part of the circle, and you knew that burned her to the bone.
There was no particular reason, it was just that your schedules didn't match up, but the fact that she was being left out along with the constant chatter from the others about their experiences had her on the verge of insanity. To top it off, she had caught you, Minnie, and Yuqi in the act without you realizing it, ending up unleashing her anger.
Just a couple of days later, the first date of the girls' new tour arrived, the day that marked exactly three days since Shuhua had decided to give you the cold shoulder and one week after the party. You were with the girls from early on, mainly acting as moral support during all the sound tests and other preparations prior to the concert. Fortunately, everything went wonderfully that night. Neat choreography, impeccable outfits, incredible sound, immaculate vocals, and above all, a rudely sexy and dangerous Shuhua with her Britney Spears cover.
You knew it couldn't be on purpose since it had been something that had been planned for months, but you couldn't help but think that every move, every facial expression and every look had been meticulously chosen to make you drool. A lot of it had to do with the outfit: a small, shiny backless top, black leather shorts and boots that went up to her thighs. One of the hottest outfits she's ever worn, hands down, and it did a great job of making you need her very, very badly. You wanted to talk to her after the concert though, but the silent treatment was still on you.
So there you were, you, the girls, and the staff at the rooftop bar you'd rented for all of you at a hotel. You and Soyeon were sitting on stools near the railing, facing each other, while drinking mojitos and eating snacks. The others were scattered around the bar: Minnie and Miyeon were inside drinking shots, Yuqi was chatting with a friend who had come to see her from China, and Shuhua was talking to the two stylists.
"Hey, why isn't the brat talking to you?" Soyeon asked you. She was wearing a different outfit than the last one she wore during the concert, but her hair was still down. "What did you do to her?"
"I didn't do anything," you replied, munching on a sour cream chip. "The question is more about what I didn't do to her."
"Oh," Soyeon laughed, looking out over the railing at the Seoul skyline. "It's about that, isn't it?"
You nodded, taking a sip of the mojito.
"She caught me, Yuqi, and Minnie," you said. "Ever since she told me the next day, she won't talk to me."
"Well, it's her fault for disappearing that night," Soyeon shrugged. "She'll get over it."
"You're sure? Because I feel like she hates me."
"If she hated you, you'd be a dead man by now. She's just throwing one of her tantrums."
You turned to look at Shuhua in the distance.
"I don't even understand why she's throwing tantrums, it's not like I don't want to... you know."
"I know, and she looks extra hot tonight," Soyeon turned to look at her as well. "Maybe something could happen."
"Not if I can't even share two measly words with her."
Soyeon looked at you and placed her hand on yours.
"You just leave it all to my mastermind, sweetheart," she winked.
Just then you received a text on your phone. It was one of your coworkers asking you how your part of the project you were working on was going. The deadline wasn't too far away, so you had to hurry.
You clicked your tongue and sighed.
"What's wrong?" Soyeon asked.
"I have to get back to the room," you said, putting your phone away. "Work pending."
"Do you want me to go with you?" she asked as you stood up.
"No baby," you shook your head, and walked over to her to place your hands on her thighs and give her a peck on the lips. "You stay here and have fun with the girls. You deserve it."
"Okay," Soyeon nodded in a small voice. "I won't be long, anyway; I don't want to stay up so late."
"I'll be waiting for you then," you pulled away. "Just make sure to bring me one of those ravioli if there are any left, they're fucking delicious."
"Pray Yuqi leaves some,” she chuckled. “She's been eating for half an hour."
"Let her worry about not falling on her ass again and not making a fool of herself," you laughed, already walking away from Soyeon to leave the bar.
You went straight to your and Soyeon's room, and upon arriving you went to the desk to get your laptop out of your backpack and get to work. An hour and a few minutes passed when you heard three loud knocks on your door. You frowned, looking away from the laptop screen. It couldn't be Soyeon since she could just open it and walk in; it had to be one of the girls.
"Who is it?" you said out loud. No response from the other end. "Song Yuqi, I swear to god, if this is another one of your pranks I'll kill you."
You stood up and strode towards the door. When you opened it your soul left your body, as if you had met the devil himself.
"When were you planning to take the initiative, you damn dog?" Yeh Shuhua asked with a hand resting on the door frame. She was wearing the exact same outfit she wore for the concert cover. "I bet if I was Miyeon unnie you would have already rushed me here to fuck me."
Before you could come to your own defense, Shuhua pushed you inside and walked into the room with you, making you back up until you bumped into the bottom edge of the bed and sat down. She closed the door, and stared at you as she took off her top, giving you the privilege of seeing for the first time one of the prettiest pairs of milky tits you had ever seen, which came with a very pleasant and hot surprise.
Her nipples were pierced. What the fuck. How didn’t you notice after?
"I would let you fuck me in this outfit, but you don't deserve it," she said as she now took off her boots.
"May I know why the fuck you talk like I'm the one to blame?" You asked, unable to take your eyes off her tits and those shiny silver nipple piercings. "What do you want, for me to magically make our schedules match up?"
"Well yes!" Shuhua snapped. She had already taken off her boots, and was now working on her belt and leather shorts. "It's the least I deserve."
Shuhua took off her shorts and was left in just black knee-high socks and lace panties of the same color. She took slow steps towards you, hands on her waist and a small, haughty smile on her face knowing you were still in shock from her pierced nipples. Arriving in front of you she straddled your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck before kissing you.
With Shuhua's sweet lips on yours you placed your hands on her and ran them all over her delicious, soft body, with special emphasis on her back and ass. She ground her hips against your bulge, making it hard in seconds and rubbing it against her slit.
"I hate you for leaving me last," Shuhua murmured mid-kiss, gripping your hair tightly as you groped her ass beneath her panties. "It was as easy as telling me you wanted to fuck and I would have made time for you."
"I'm not arguing with you about it, you brat whore," you replied, squeezing her ass cheeks before giving her a smack. Shuhua moaned and sank her teeth into your bottom lip to tug at it, then stood on the floor between your legs and pointed at your hard bulge.
"Come on, show me the piece of meat the other whores have been tasting all this time," Shuhua demanded with her hands on her waist, not expecting no for an answer.
You complied and pulled your cargo pants and boxers down your legs. Shuhua's eyes lit up like two bonfires as your hard, throbbing cock was at her mercy, and she bit the tip of her tongue as she knelt down. Her hands then went to your thighs, to gently rub them with her fingertips.
"Wah, such a nice fucking cock," Shuhua gasped and then looked into your eyes. "Being the last one to have it is a fucking insult to me, and for that you deserve to be punished."
You took a deep breath and exhaled with a sigh.
"Shuhua, don't be a fucking brat and suck it," you said.
"I will," she grabbed your balls, squeezed them gently, and gave the base of your shaft a quick lick. "But that's not what the punishment is about."
"Then what the fuck are you talking about?"
"Simple enough," Shuhua pressed kisses to the back of your cock, with additional little suckers. "This cock isn't going to touch my pussy until you cum at least once."
"And why do you think that's a punishment for me?"
"Because I know how desperate you are to fuck me mercilessly after watching my performance," she giggled, finally taking your cock to lick up to the tip and swirl her tongue around it. "I see it in your eyes: you want to put me against the wall and pound my pussy until I cry, and you want to do it right now, but it won't happen."
"You fucking..." you gritted your teeth and closed your eyes as she took you into her mouth. "Oh god," your head fell back.
Shuhua sucked on the first few inches of your shaft slowly, one hand on your thigh and the other around your base. She slowly took more, until she was sensually pumping her head over the middle of your cock. You let out small moans, the sheets crumpled between your fingers. As you straightened your head your gazes met, and you noticed that her eyes now exuded such lust that it made you breathe heavily.
In the middle of the blowjob Shuhua looked away from you, and reached down with her hand to take the phone out of the pocket of your sweatpants to give it to you.
"Unlock it," she said, and continued to move her pretty lips up and down your cock.
You hesitated, but grabbed the phone and unlocked it for her. Shuhua snatched it from your hand, went into the camera app and as she sucked you off she started taking selfies. A huff escaped you, already knowing why and who these photos were for. The only thing left for you was the hope that you would have the same luck you had with Miyeon and that your girlfriend wouldn't cut your head off.
"Was that really necessary?" you gasped. Now Shuhua was pumping her head faster and leaving more saliva on your shaft.
"Pretty much," she said, and pulled you out of her mouth to straighten her back and show you her beautiful pair of pierced tits. "Otherwise how will we make her come, silly?"
"It's her room too," you replied, watching as she moved her tits closer to your cock. "Sooner or later she would come."
Shuhua's tits weren't especially huge, their appeal lay more in how pretty, round and soft they were, so you didn't think they were great for a titjob. But despite that, she didn't care and squeezed that pair of creamy mounds on either side of your shaft, helping herself with her fingers to keep your cock between them and start moving up and down.
"Oh my god you can't be for real," you gasped.
Shuhua's lips curved into a slight cocky smile, and then she looked down to spit on your cock and between her breasts. Again, Shuhua's tits didn't quite manage to cover your shaft, but you still knew it was the best titjob you'd ever received. Besides, those damn pierced nipples kept melting your head; you couldn't stop staring at them, and you were dying to taste them.
"Ah, it feels good doesn't it?" Shuhua said with a giggle, bobbing her chest faster. "It could have happened before, if you weren't such a fucking moron."
"Yeh Shuhua, I swear to god," you gasped, and reached out a hand to grab a handful of her hair behind her head tightly. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't feel your pussy tomorrow."
"Then hurry up and cum!" Shuhua raised her voice, fucking your slick cock between her tits. "You're not the only one desperate for you to fuck me!"
Impatient, Shuhua released you from between her tits and took you back into her mouth. Her lips remained wrapped around your tip, and she used her hand to quickly stroke your cock while repeatedly licking your urethra. Your eyes rolled back, and your toes curled as you felt yourself suddenly close to climax. Seeing you in that state Shuhua stopped using her hand, and with just her mouth and quick head pumps brought you to your orgasm.
When she felt the first spurt inside her mouth Shuhua quickly pulled out and jerked you off by aiming herself at her face and tits, making all of your load land in thick spurts there.
And just then the bedroom door opened.
Soyeon rushed in and slammed the door behind her, looking at Shuhua in obvious annoyance. Shuhua just bit her bottom lip and turned to look at her, showing her tits.
"Weren't you supposed to not talk to him, slut?" Soyeon asked as she took off her jeans and top.
"And I didn't," Shuhua replied, watching as Soyeon stripped down to her panties. "But I got tired of his damn incompetence and took the initiative myself."
"That just sounds like you were too horny today and decided to put pride aside," Soyeon chuckled, climbing into bed with you. She knelt down beside you and leaned close to your ear. "I know how much you want to destroy that slutty pussy, so I'll let you have some fun with it for a little while," she whispered.
Your girlfriend then bent over your cock, cupped it in her fingers, and brought it to her mouth to clean up the last of the cum on it.
"Unnie, your boyfriend has a delicious cock," Shuhua said, in a smug tone that made you shake your head. Soyeon was pumping her head gradually faster on your shaft to get you hard again, and you were groping her ass. "You should have seen him curl his toes when I was jerking him off with my tits, he almost melted!"
"Shuhua, just shut up for the love of god," you gasped, as your girlfriend slurped quick pumps on your already hard cock.
"Make me, you dummy!" she challenged you, staring you in the eyes.
Knowing you were more than happy to take on that challenge, Soyeon pulled you out of her mouth and moved back onto her knees. You jumped to your feet, and stood behind Shuhua to grab her under the armpits and force her to her feet, then gave her a push so she fell face down onto the bed, making her ass and thighs jiggle. Like a hungry predator you climbed onto the bed and straddled her, knees on either side of her hips to push her panties aside, grabbing your cock and pressing it against her wet pussy.
“Oh god!” Shuhua moaned, your cock making its way slowly and smoothly inside her. You moaned too at how warm she felt inside. “Finally you do something, you slow fucker!”
“Oh trust me, I’m anything but a slow fucker,” you panted, resting your entire length inside her silky, warm pussy. You moved your knees back a little, so you could lean forward and rest your fists on the mattress on either side of her torso before you began moving at a hard, slow pace from the start.
“And what do you call that, idiot?” Shuhua asked between small moans, looking up at you as you took every inch in and out of her. “You’re going slow as a fucking caterpillar, fuck me hard!”
You chuckled, and brought a hand to the back of her neck to press her down and hold her still.
“I was just letting you get used to the size, but I see you deserve no consideration, slut,” you tightened your fingers on the back of her neck, now increasing the speed a couple of gears and railing her against the mattress, which dipped with each thrust.
Shuhua dropped the attitude and happily whimpered at your cock. Soyeon laid down in front of her, propped up on one elbow. She had her phone in her hand.
“You wanted me to see you being a whore so bad, didn’t you?” Soyeon asked, grabbing Shuhua by the chin to give her a few lazy sloppy kisses. “Well, now everyone will.”
Your girlfriend then grabbed her phone and started taking pictures, some with the flash on. She also recorded a couple of short videos, and you knew she was sending everything to the group chat you and the girls had because you could hear the notifications on your phone.
“I-I don’t care,” Shuhua moaned. “Show those whores how he’s fucking me harder than him fucking them.”
In order to get her to shut up again you pushed her face into the mattress with your hand on her head, the other hand placed on her waist as you hammered her pussy up and down. Soyeon was lying on her side, watching intently as she fingered herself and let out small moans.
Shuhua groaned into the mattress, clutching at the increasingly wrinkled sheets. You got the feeling she was having too much fun getting her way, so you opted for a little punishment.
“Ugh what the fuck are you doing?!” Shuhua whined as you pulled out from inside her.
You grabbed her by the shoulders and made her kneel up with her legs together.
“Reminding you that you’re not the one in charge,” you said into her ear, wrapping your left arm around her belly to bring your cock between her soft, fleshy thighs.
"You're a fucking pervert," Shuhua hissed, squeezing her thighs on either side of your cock, which rubbed against her pussy on top. "A stupid, insufferable pervert."
"Whatever you say, whore," you said into her ear, and as you slowly pumped your hips back and forth, you played with her pretty pierced nipples.
That woman's thighs felt overwhelmingly good, even better than you imagined. Your slick cock slowly slid between them, making you feel between two soft, plush-filled pillows. Her nipples also felt amazing under your fingertips; you pinched them, rubbed them gently, and squeezed her tits. Shuhua just moaned, one hand reaching back to grab the back of your neck and the other on your left wrist.
"What's wrong, were you looking for a break because you're a precocious bastard and you were about to cum?" Shuhua asked in your ear, her head resting on your shoulder.
You snorted and gritted your teeth, feeling your patience slowly running out. If there was one thing you should give that girl credit for, it was her ability to get on everyone's nerves, and with that she had managed to make one of your internal circuits overheat until it exploded.
"Alright bitch, let's see if you're ready to not feel pussy tomorrow," you growled in her ear, and pushed her down onto her hands and knees to get back inside her.
Having Shuhua face to face again Soyeon kissed her, swirling their tongues together as she rubbed her clit. Shuhua brought a hand between Soyeon's legs to put two of her fingers inside and pump her wrist as fast as she could. You had your hands on her waist, fucking her hard and merciless again.
Shuhua's pale, creamy skin was begging for a little color, so you, a little carried away by the anger of the moment, let loose a non-stop spank on her buttocks that lit both cheeks red hot, making Shuhua scream in pleasure. And to top it off, as if that wasn't enough for you, you grabbed a handful of her brown hair and pulled on it, watching as you made her ass jiggle with your thrusts.
"Oh, you're not very talkative now huh?" Soyeon asked between moans, being fingered by Shuhua. "Come on bitch, dare to say something else!"
Shuhua really tried to do it, but you were pounding her so hard and fast that the words got stuck in her throat. As the seconds passed, she stopped trying for good, and buried her face in the sheets the moment she came.
"Ah yeah! That's why you couldn't talk, you slut," Soyeon smirked, pressing her tongue to the inside of her cheek. "I guess you can't say where you want him to cum either, can you?"
"INSIDE ME!" Shuhua screamed, still shaking. "Inside me or I'll beat the shit out of you both!"
So be it, then. Just what you wanted.
You pressed the side of Shuhua's face into the mattress, your other hand on her lower back. Shuhua, overstimulated at this point, whimpered like crazy until you exploded with a hard thrust and a grunt.
"Mmmh fuck!" you groaned, filling every inch of Shuhua's warm pussy with your load. You let go of her hair and dropped down on top of her, pressing your chest against her back and grabbing her neck as you pumped slowly. "You like that, slut?"
"Oh I love it," Shuhua nodded with a sigh, turning her face to kiss you. "But it's the least I fucking deserve for being the last one."
"Come on, are you going to cry about it?" you teased, and pulled your cock out of her. "I thought you were tougher than that, but I see you're just a whiny whore."
"Hey! And you're a son of a...!" Shuhua trailed off, as Soyeon had grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her back to spread her legs and eat her cum-filled pussy.
You leaned over to Shuhua and kissed her again, then pulled away a few seconds later and trailed kisses down her neck, collarbone, shoulders, and finally down to her tits. Her nipples were your immediate appetizer, first the left one and then the right. You sucked and licked them both, delighting in the mix of soft flesh and the cold metal of the piercings. When you felt ready to continue and had already spent a few long seconds sucking on her tits, you knelt up next to her face and grabbed your cock to put your balls in her mouth while you slowly jerked yourself off.
After having cleaned the cum from Shuhua's pussy, Soyeon didn't stop and continued eating and fingering her, on her hands and knees with a perfect back bend that made her ass look like a work of art. Shuhua sucked your balls without complaint, and when you were hard you took your cock inside her mouth for her to suck on for a little while.
Shuhua was amazing at sucking cock, but your girlfriend's ass looked too inviting for you at the moment, so you pulled out of Shuhua's mouth and went behind Soyeon to put your slobbering cock between her ass cheeks. Feeling it, she lightly shook her ass and moved back and forth to rub your shaft against it. You let her do that for a few seconds, until you got impatient and entered her.
"Mmmgh," Soyeon moaned, and looked over her shoulder at you as you took the full length of your cock inside her tight pussy. "Baby, make sure you send a picture of this to the girls."
Soyeon's phone was the closest, so you reached out an arm to pick it up, unlock it with your fingerprint, and snapped a couple of photos with your cock buried deep inside your girlfriend's pussy. After sending them, you tossed the phone aside and grabbed Soyeon by her small waist to start pounding her pussy.
Shuhua locked gazes with you, her thighs wrapped around Soyeon's head as she massaged her tits and pinched her nipples. The blush on her cheeks, easily noticeable due to how pale her skin was, was adorable as she moaned and tugged at Soyeon's hair. You weren't going to tell her for fear of dying, but she looked like a very cute cartoon tomato.
As the seconds passed, you went harder on Soyeon, clinging to her ass just the way she loved it and pounding hard. However, thanks to your girlfriend's skill with her tongue and fingers, the first to cum was Shuhua. She squealed and squeezed Soyeon's head between her thighs, but your girlfriend didn't stop, instead going faster.
"Unnie!! Stop!!" Shuhua squealed, arching her back in desperation. "Unnie!! Oh god, god!! FUCK!!!"
Shuhua exploded again, this time with the small surprise of covering Soyeon's entire face with a jet of squirt that forced her to turn her face away. You slowed down, and exchanged incredulous glances with your girlfriend, since neither of you expected—you should have—that she could squirt.
Soyeon moved away from between Shuhua's thighs and made her move to the side to look at you over her shoulder, signaling for you to continue. You first grabbed a handful of her long black hair, making it into a ponytail that served as a handle for the next couple of minutes in which you pounded your girlfriend's pussy until she came.
"Oh my fucking god yes baby!!" Soyeon moaned, gripping the sheets, fucking herself against your cock between spasms. You gave a couple of light spanks to her buttocks, and let go of her hair so she could move at ease.
As her orgasm wore off, Soyeon knelt up and turned around to kiss you, one arm around your neck and her hand moving slowly over your cock. Seconds later she pulled away to look at Shuhua.
"Come here, slut," your girlfriend told her. "We have a cock to suck."
Soyeon got on her hands and knees again, but this time with your cock in front of her face. Shuhua didn't hesitate to join in, in the same position as Soyeon, both of them propped up on their elbows and with their backs arched to make their asses stand out.
Soyeon was the first to take you into her mouth, cleaning your shaft of her own fluids with her gaze fixed on you. Shuhua could only stare at your cock, and gladly accepted it into her mouth when it was her turn. Soyeon then sucked on your balls, and licked the underside of your shaft while Shuhua gave you a messy, sloppy blowjob. The command wasn't implied, but you still grabbed Soyeon's phone again and took a picture and video to send to the group chat.
"Alright come ride me cutie," you told Soyeon with a caress to her chin, then looked at Shuhua. "And you're gonna sit on my face."
"I'll do whatever I want, moron," Shuhua replied, in a teasing tone that made you snort and give her a quick slap that put some of her hair in her face. That only made her moan, "Oh yeah do that again, and then I might do what you say," you did so, another slap on the same cheek that made her bite her lip and smile. "Alright, lay down."
"What it takes to make you do a damn basic thing," Soyeon chuckled, as you laid on your back.
Soyeon straddled you and quickly impaled herself back on your cock. Shuhua also climbed on top of you, but instead of your cock, her seat was your whole face.
Needless to say, but even at that moment you didn't feel worthy of having such a piece of ass pressed against your face, and you didn't think you ever would, because to be honest it felt like something only the most worthy could even hope for. Not even her sweet tasting pussy and silky folds, which you licked and kissed, resembled something mere mortals could have. It was just fucking perfection.
And without going any further, your girlfriend's pussy was off the charts, suffocatingly tight and delicious as always. She moved up and down with her hands on your chest, making out with Shuhua while you feasted on her pussy and played with her ass cheeks. Soyeon gradually went faster, and Shuhua moved her hips back to grind against your mouth and nose. Both of them muffled moans against each other's lips, but the loudest was Shuhua; she came not long after.
"Fuckkk!!" Shuhua whimpered, writhing on your face with her nails digging into your chest. "His mouth feels as good as his fucking cock!!"
"I know right?" Soyeon moaned, grinding her hips on your cock in that motion that must have felt amazing to her. "I hit the fucking jackpot with him. But remember he's all fucking mine and he's only on loan, bitch."
"Whatever you say, old lady," Shuhua stuck her tongue out at her.
Shuhua climbed off your face and sat down beside you. You licked her juices from your lips, and were finally able to breathe normally. Soyeon then turned her back to you, feet planted on the bed and hands on your chest as she jumped on top of you in a reverse cowgirl position. Shuhua went in front of her, sitting on top of your thigh.
"Oh lord," Shuhua said with a gasp, and brought a hand to Soyeon's abdomen. "The way he makes your belly bulge is so hot, unnie."
"Do you want to see it bulge even more?" you asked rhetorically, not waiting for her to respond before grabbing Soyeon by the thighs and pulling them towards you, holding them behind her knees with your arms. She planted her hands on either side of your waist, and you planted your feet on the mattress to pound your girlfriend's pussy in her favorite position.
"Fuck, so hot," Shuhua sighed, and you watched as she leaned forward to lick Soyeon's pussy, who screamed in pleasure. "I could watch that sexy belly bulge all damn day."
Shuhua and you took it upon yourself to drive Soyeon down the path of absolute madness. You pumped the entirety of your cock in and out of her petite body, your iron grip on her legs not wavering for a moment. Shuhua licked, spit, and sucked back at Soyeon's clit, hands on her thighs.
"Fuck yes yes yes!!" Soyeon squealed, dropping her head back and leaving her shiny black hair all over your face. She was now holding onto your wrists. "Don't stop, don't stop!!"
The truth is that you weren't that far from your climax. Whenever you fucked Soyeon in that position all your switches went off and your senses were heightened beyond your control. So the moment your girlfriend exploded around your cock, you did it with her.
"Oh fuck yeah fill me up, baby!" Soyeon moaned, falling back to find your lips and kiss them, while she shook on top of you and you left your load inside her pussy. "I'm never going to get tired of this, oh god."
The two of you made out for a few more seconds until you pulled out of her. Shuhua immediately caught your cock with her lips and sucked it up and down, searching for every drop of cum left in you. Then she focused on Soyeon's pussy, to collect with her tongue the small waterfall of white liquid that was leaking between her folds.
"Mmm, tasty tasty," Shuhua sighed, eating up every trace of your cum before looking at you. "Hey, donkey, you still have something for me, don't you?"
"Let's find out," you said, and after giving her a peck on the cheek, you pushed Soyeon off of you to go to Shuhua.
You grabbed her face roughly, and made her kneel up to crash your lips against hers. Her hands went to your shoulders, and you brought one of yours between her legs to play with her pussy for a bit, rubbing between her folds before bringing two fingers inside her. Shuhua moaned and bit your lip, now adding her tongue into the kiss. One of her hands then went to your still sensitive cock, to slowly rub it with her palm. It took a few long seconds for your erection to come back to life, but as it did you fell into a mutual masturbation session with each other.
"How have you been having fun so far?" Shuhua asked against your lips, and looked into your eyes, stroking your cock at a steady pace. "As good as in your imagination when you saw me perform?"
"Almost as good," you nodded with a sly smile, pumping your fingers in and out of her. "But you're still not over the imaginary Shuhua."
Her face twisted into a scowl that denoted the urge to murder you. Perfect.
"Hey! What the fuck do you mean by that?!" she yelled just millimeters from your lips. "You fucking-"
Before she could insult you, you wrapped your left arm around her waist and laid her down on her back. She tried to get her hands on you, but you made good use of your strength to grab her wrists and hold them above her head.
“Let me go!” Shuhua yelled, struggling to free herself from your hold, but you had her wrists pinned tightly against the mattress. “I’m going to kick your ass!”
“Shut your mouth, whore,” you said, and without a second thought you spat into her mouth. Shuhua moaned and stopped struggling, now spreading her legs. “Ah, you like that don’t you?”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, asshole,” she snapped back, raising her hips to rub her pussy against your cock.
“Oh no?” you raised an eyebrow, and spat again into her parted mouth. She moaned louder, licking your saliva from between her lips. "You're such a fucking slut."
"Yes I fucking am," she growled. "So what?"
You brought her wrists together above her head so you could hold them together with one hand, and with your free hand, you gave her a spicy, dry slap on the right cheek. Shuhua groaned in pleasure and arched her back as her skin turned bright red.
"Tell me what you want, slut," you demanded through gritted teeth, grabbing her chin firmly.
"You know what I want, idiot," Shuhua replied, breathing heavily. "I don't know why you need to-"
You cut her off with another slap that sent her hair into her face, strands sticking to it from the sweat. She bit her lip and moaned louder.
"What do you want, you fucking bitch?!" you asked again, now grabbing her hair to pull her head back. "You're just making it harder for yourself by being a fucking brat."
"I want you to fuck me goddammit!" she squealed desperately, twisting her hips in search of you penetrating her.
You reaffirmed your fingers in her hair and made sure to pull straight from her scalp to shake her.
"What do you want?!" you insisted. "You and I both know the fucking answer!"
"BREED ME, MOTHERFUCKER!!" Shuhua finally screamed. "BE THE FUCKING MAN YOU CLAIM TO BE, TAME ME AND BREED ME!!"
You smirked, and finally let go of her wrists to grab her thighs and penetrate her fully. Shuhua sighed in relief, her arms in the same position you had left them in a second ago.
"See it wasn't that hard?" you asked with your hands on her waist, beginning to move your hips back and forth. "I don't know why you have to make everything so complicated with your tantrums."
Shuhua couldn't answer you anymore. She had tears in her eyes, disheveled, sweaty, soaked in your saliva and with one side of her face red from the slaps. It was clear that you had managed to calm her insufferable bitch attitude.
You started thrusting quickly, but you varied the position of your hands every few seconds. Now you were on her tits, massaging them between your fingers and playing with her cute nipples. Seconds later, when you were already going harder and were making the bed shake, you moved a hand up to her neck to wrap your fingers around it. Shuhua grabbed your wrist with both hands, with her eyes closed and her eyebrows arched until she came.
She tried to scream in pleasure, but your grip on her neck didn't allow it. Another slap fell on her face, now on the opposite side, causing her tears to run down her cheeks and spread.
"You're a submissive and obedient little whore now huh?" you raised an eyebrow, squeezing her neck tightly. "Come on, say something!"
You let go of her neck for her to do so, but it was only false hope for her, as at the same moment you grabbed her thighs and pulled them all the way back, holding them behind her knees with your arms to let yourself fall forward and pin her under you in a matting press position, with your thighs over her ass.
You now hammered her pussy up and down, seeing up close how much of a mess she was in tears and sweat.
"You want me to put a baby inside you so, so bad huh?" you asked between gasps. "You want it too fucking bad."
Shuhua looked into your eyes and could only nod weakly, so you went harder and harder, making the mattress sink beneath you and the bed creak. She came once more, but that didn't slow you down, not until you felt your orgasm just around the corner and with a loud grunt, you thrusted down the moment you came inside her.
"Oh god!!" you clenched your jaw, leaving every drop of hot cum buried deep inside Shuhua's warm pussy. "Oh yeah take all my fucking seed you whore..."
Shuhua couldn't do anything but look at you with watery eyes and a look of pure ecstasy. She ran a couple of fingers down your face, making you suck two of them and then leaving both hands on your shoulders.
“So warm…” she sighed in a small breath. “I feel so fucking full… thanks honey.”
That last sentence sounded unlike her, and you didn’t bother to hide your confusion about it.
“Are you okay?” you asked. “Did I fuck you so hard you caught a fever?”
“I’m just thanking you, asshole,” Shuhua replied softly. “Don’t complain when I turn into a bitch again.”
“Nah, fair enough,” you smirked, and let go of her thighs to slide out of her and kneel up. Not a single trace of your cum had left her; you’d left it all inside.
You fell onto your back, right next to Soyeon, who draped an arm over your chest to hug you. You picked her up with one arm and settled with her on a pillow.
“I guess it was worth the silent treatment on you, huh?” Soyeon asked with a weak giggle, curled up against the side of your body.
“Every damn second,” you replied, wrapping an arm around her.
Shuhua then quite literally crawled towards you, finally crashing face-first into the mattress when she reached your side and putting an arm over your chest to hug you. Not having the energy to arrange herself in a normal sleeping position, understood.
“I guess I don’t need to remind you that you’ll have to go out first damn hour to buy the pill, right?” Soyeon asked.
“He’ll go by himself,” Shuhua muffled against the mattress, more asleep than awake. “I’ll just stay asleep and take the damn pill when he brings it to me.”
You sighed and closed your eyes.
“As you say, your majesty,” you said.
"As you say, your majesty," she mimicked you in a stupid voice, and you heard her giggle once more before falling asleep.
———————————-
Spren Notes: Well, who wanted to see Shuhua written by me? Because here it is, and I hope you enjoyed it 🗣️ MASTERLIST HERE! THANKS FOR READING!
#idle smut#g idle smut#shuhua smut#soyeon smut#kpop smut#smut fanfic#x male smut#male reader smut#x male reader smut#fanfic smut
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Pushing her buttons...
Imagine having a button you could press that magically makes you fatter, by like +1 pound. That'd be neat, right? I wonder where you would draw the line and finally stop pressing it.
I mean, the first dozen presses would just be so you can test if it's actually working. One or two probably wouldn't feel like much, but by the time you hit the double-digits of extra pounds gained, you'd probably feel the extra tightness in your pants. Maybe your shirt would ride up a little bit because your belly and tits have grown a little bigger, but it wouldn't be anything *crazy*. Even after 12 presses, you'd still basically feel the same. Maybe your balance would be a little off with the extra weight, but nothing you can't deal with. If you put a hand on your midriff, you'd notice it bulging out more, and that it's softer and fleshier than you're used to, but all in a good way.
Being realistic though, you wouldn't stop there, would you? You've dreamed of stuff like this. An opportunity to make yourself *so* much fatter is just too tempting for you to pass up. Maybe you'd try to resist the temptation for a while, but we both know you'd fold under the pressure and start pressing it again. Fast.
You'd get undressed and stand in front of a mirror so you could watch your figure swell with dozens of extra pounds of soft, pale blubber. You'd hold your belly in one hand while you press the button with the other. Press after press, you feel it push out just a little bit further. It'd feel softer and softer in your hands as your gut grows heavier and jigglier.
Now you're thirty pounds heavier than you started, and you're *really* starting to notice the results now. Your belly hangs over your thighs quite a lot further than you remember, and your ass is looking so fat when you get a good look at yourself from the side. Stopping now crosses your mind, but you quickly dismiss it; your tits might be bigger, but they're not really big enough yet, and you're still only at "BBW" size anyway. You can handle some more pressing.
Click by click, you feel yourself growing heavier. Your belly has gotten so big and blubbery that it starts to fold into two thick rolls, giving you a definite double-belly that you can't wait to show off to your girlfriend when she gets home. In the meantime though, you keep pressing the button. You've lost track of the exact number at this point, but you think you're somewhere around 60 pounds heavier than when you started (it's actually closer to 80). You look at your doughy belly and thighs being groped by your hand in the mirror, and notice how much pudgier and softer your hand is starting to look. Nothing is immune to the weight you're piling on, and that just makes you even hornier. You resume clicking it.
Another thirty pounds make their way onto your figure when you stop again, this time because your gaze drifted upwards towards your face. Your cheeks look so much fuller now, giving your face a decidedly rounder shape. Your double-chin is much more pronounced than it used to be; your jawline is completely buried under a thick layer of chubbiness at this point, and you can't help but smile about it. It feels so good to be so much more... *plush*.
You tell yourself that you'll give yourself twenty more presses, then you'll quit. But once you get there, you decide... maybe just a few more. So you press it *another* ten times. Then you notice how close your breasts are to touching when you're sitting down, and can't help but want to see them finally become big enough to rub against each other as you walk. So you keep pressing it. Not really paying attention to the number any more, just to your breasts, as they get heavier and softer and rounder with every click.
Finally, it happens.
Not your breasts touching, like you were waiting for. The chair you were sitting on breaks instead. You hadn't heard it creaking as your fat ass grew ever fatter and heavier with every click of the button. It just hadn't crossed your mind that your furniture had already been struggling against your mass before you got this button. Now though, it had finally given up...
You decided this was your sign to call it quits - you should dust yourself off and think yourself lucky that you didn't do something stupid and make yourself absolutely massive. You drag yourself up onto your feet with a lot more difficulty than you expected, then push the shattered remains of the chair aside with your foot. You check your ass and thighs for any damage, but aside from the massive amount of extra cellulite now occupying them, and the angry red stretchmarks that have suddenly become even more omnipresent across your body, you seem to be fine. You look down for the button, but can't see it anywhere among the debris. You look around the room, when you finally spot it.
Your girlfriend is in the doorway, holding it in her hand.
"I like what you've done to yourself, babe" she says with a smile, her gaze travelling up and down your now much fatter figure, eyeing your new curves and rolls with glee. She licks her lips. "I wonder how you got so big, so fast, princess... Could it be this, maybe?" She presses the button.
Maybe you could have denied the effect the button had just had on you, if it wasn't for the fact that at that moment, the panties you had been wearing finally gave up, shredded by your immense girth with an audible rip and leaving you exposed to your girlfriend in more ways than one. The smile on her face broadens.
"I think I get the picture... Well, shall we see what this thing can do?" She starts clicking the button as fast as her fingers are capable of. Ten pounds, twenty pounds, thirty pounds, you feel your body swelling with the extra mass second by second as she starts to giggle. You try to run towards her, but you're far too fat now to move so quickly, so all you can do is waddle gracelessly towards her as she easily evaded your attempts to grab the button from her hand. You reach the doorway and look down at your expanding body, in awe at just how much of the weight seems to be going straight to your belly rolls. Your thickening paunch slaps against your thickened thighs as you keep trying to pursue your mischievous girlfriend. She escapes into the living room, and you follow her, your steps growing heavier with every click that echoes through your ears.
By the time you corner her in front of the couch, the click count must be at 250 by now, and you're feeling every ounce of the blubber she has poured onto your body. You're exhausted and breathless from trying to catch her, and she can see you're close to collapsing. She speeds up the pace of her clicking, holding the button high above her head where you have no hope of reaching it. You make one final lunge, hoping to swipe it from her hand before you're too fat to stand...
But you miss.
You lose your balance and stumble towards the couch, where you drop heavily onto the straining frame. Your ass takes up far more of space than you're used to and you sink deep into the soft cushions, hearing creak as it settles under your immense bulk. Your girlfriend stands over you, victorious.
"I think that couch had a max weight rating of 800 lbs, didn't it? Shall we test that?"
As much as you struggle against your own fattened figure, you can't haul your fat ass and gut off of the couch. You're just too heavy, and only getting heavier as she presses the button over and over and over again. Your thighs press together even as you try to spread them as wide as possible; your belly fills your entire lap and just keeps spilling out further and further over the edge of the couch; and your tits keep swelling too, easily exceeding G-cups in size with no signs of stopping.
Eventually, inevitably, the couch gives way to your blubber-laden body. You sink down even further as the couch breaks right down the middle, leaving you in a V-shaped dip, helplessly trapped by your hundreds of new pounds of fat and cellulite. Your hands grope your thick rolls of flab and you feel a strange mix of horror and arousal at how soft and jiggly you are now, *all over*.
Your girlfriend looks very pleased with herself.
"I hope you're comfy, big girl, because you're not going to be doing much walking from now on. I was always hoping I could get you to fatten up for me, to turn you into my stay-at-home piggy, too fat to do anything but make herself even fatter. It was always just a pipe dream, but apparently, dreams really *do* come true...
"I'll let you stay like this until I can find us a bed that can handle the massive whale of a girl like you've become. Once I've got you settled there though, I'm going to give this thing a couple hundred more clicks.
"You'll be so helpless and useless, but don't worry, princess. I'll make sure you know how much I love every single inch of you."
#fat piggy#feedee piggy#feedee encouragement#fat#feedee girl#feeding kink#feedee belly#fat belly#gaining weight#fat pig#magic weight gain#instant weight gain#weight gain sequence#gaining weight on purpose
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Lost in a land not your own, with your memories of the past torn and smudged like paper left out in a storm, you clung to whatever memories you could salvage. When you woke up, you had three things: A brittle, broken sword, a map with a destination circled, and a simple written apology. You were found in the temple of one of the newer gods, one of those which hadn’t quite learnt to control their powers. There were reports of them making storms in deserts, warping life by accident, all sorts of bizarre occurrences. Bizarre almost like taking a stranger from their home and dropping them somewhere else.
But gods did as gods were, and seething over the mistakes of a child would not do any good to you. You set out to get to the circled destination, determined to find your way back home. Home to where there would be people waiting for you - maybe even people who worried after you.
You set sail with a company of honest folk, merchants and farmers looking to sell their wares across the seas. You didn’t want to trouble any of them, taking up instead a quite corner, where it was just you and the rocking waves.
You took out the sword you had landed with. It was broken, brittle, bad craftsmanship. You couldn’t remember where you learnt to tell how well made a sword was. Running your hands over the dull edge, you startled as you heard a voice from behind you.
“That looks awfully worn.” A stranger commented. “Want me to fix that up for you?”
You took them up on the offer, once they told you they used to be a blacksmith. Crows feet lined their eyes, but warmth still shone in them. They told you much more, as you spent the whole evening with them while they worked, partially to keep an eye on the sword, and partially because you yearned for conversation, a sympathetic other. When they were done, they handed you the sword, no longer as marred and battle-worn, but still without many virtues to extoll. Your hands closed around the leather of the hilt, and with a flash you knew something with certainty. You had loved this blade, once. This was a blade you knew as kindly as yourself. The blacksmith might have seen some of that, because they left you be for the evening, departing with an address and a firm order to drop by if you were ever near.
By the time the voyage over sea had ended, your spirits had grown low, and the map had faded for him many times you had unrolled it, pored over it, imagined yourself home with it. The next leg of your journey, you went to meet a woman who led travelers on trips to the mountain villages, whom the blacksmith had recommended you speak to.
She was kind, a bit sharp while she bargained, but kind, inviting you to stay in her house for the night, as the trip on horseback began the next day. As you followed her along hallways with framed portraits, floors dotted with children’s toys, you felt a sort of yearning, a nostalgia for a place you’d never been. The warm, lived-in home she kept was painfully familiar to you, but terribly out of reach.
By the next day, when lunchtime rolled around, the unpolished nature of your sword was irritating you. You picked up a round enough stone, with an expert eye, and spent your spare time polishing the blade. You remember… something. There is a great weight to this sword.
By the time she guides you to the village, your memories are lacing together. Your recollections multiply, you know this path, this stone, this plant. You know this place where you learnt the trade of forging, this place which is your home.
You break into a dead sprint as your heart pounds in you ears. The guide is left behind but somehow, you don’t think she’ll mind. Up ahead, tending to the garden, is a beautiful woman half-wearing armor, interrogating someone nearby. As she sees you, her face lights up.
“So you are here! Everyone seems awfully worried about you, and I was gone far longer than I meant to be, the bounty hunters guild is being stingy as always-” She was cut off by you barreling into her, hugging her as if you could merge into her so you would never be separated again. You step back, drawing the sword.
“I believe this is yours?” You ask, memories almost all reformed. You remember her - your beautiful, amazing wife, for whom you had forged this sword with your two hands, who probably didn’t even know you were missing if she was just now able to return from her adventuring - and you swear you’ll never forget her again.
@otherwindow I made it unsad ^^
A Dark Souls-like game where the lore for a weapon gets less vague the more you upgrade it. Broken Blade: A brittle sword. You can’t seem to let it go. Unpolished Blade: A cherished weapon from ages past. Polished Blade: You remember something. Bride’s Blade: Your wife’s sword.
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Remind Me That There’s A Room To Grow Part 3
Broken, rueful, and mended as it should have been.
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(a/n: Part 3, here we come! Thank you to everyone who has been reading and commenting on these, I'm so grateful! Reminder for anyone who likes a musical touch that you can find the Spotify playlist here, if you would like. Please enjoy this part, and I would love to hear your feedback about the note at the end!)
Alexia sat on that damn park bench for God knows how long.
She didn’t care if she got no sleep or looked absolutely insane sitting there for hours on end. The things you had told her rattled around in her brain disconcertedly, unending every single thought that attempted to interrupt. The brunette had gone from feeling like she was the most stable and vindicated person on the planet to a feeling as though she were a shell of herself.
This whole time, there had been so much more to the story than she ever could have imagined. And though she knew it really wasn’t their fault, resentment flared within her at how quick Eli and Alba were to blame you for everything.
Everything in Alexia felt anguished. Just thinking about looking at your face made the Catalan feel nauseous, stuck on how distraught you had been. It wasn’t as though she could blame you either, not when she had been so irate.
She had allowed herself to be influenced by every single person around her instead of trusting you, as she always had. She should have trusted herself, should have trusted the fact that she knew something was wrong. The last nine years had been spent giving you the benefit of the doubt, but when it came to it, she had treated you with such animosity.
Never in a million years had she expected the reasoning behind all of this.
Cancer. It seemed impossible for someone who was only eighteen years old, but it wasn’t as though stranger things hadn’t occurred. Now all Alexia managed to think of was how scared and alone you must have felt. She had lost you, but she did so when she was chasing her dreams. You had to watch her leave you behind because of a situation entirely out of your hands.
All this time where she had felt abandoned, and in reality it was the other way around.
What an absolutely fucked up situation.
When the footballer finally stood, a chill wrapped around her and caused her to shiver violently. She didn’t remember it getting cold, but it wasn’t as though she cared about the temperature when her mind was a ruction of emotions.
She booked it back to her car, driving herself toward her Mami’s house in what would have been considered a fury. The brunette knew that her sister was there as well, so she could kill two birds with one stone.
When she arrived, the brunette barged through the door with no care at all for the hinges, her inner turmoil gathering and growing with each and every step she took. She found her family in the kitchen, enjoying some dessert with a glass of wine in each of their hands.
“You were wrong,” Alexia seethed, almost heady with the amount of wrath she felt within her. Eli and Alba both turned to her in an instant, instantly confused at the animosity in her tone. It was so rare to hear the brunette truly upset in the way she was right now, and they glanced at each other for a second before they turned to Alexia fully.
“What happened?” Alba asked, very confused as to what her sister was talking about. They had no idea that the pair of you had talked, but Alexia didn’t care to give them context.
“You both blamed her for leaving me behind, you made her out to be the villain and she never was! This was all of your fault, how could you do this to me? How could you twist my mind in such a way?” Alexia snapped, her whole body tense with rage.
“Alexia, what the hell are you talking about?” Alba demanded, understanding dawning on the subject her sister spoke about but still confused as to the circumstances.
“She was fucking sick, you two. She let me go alone because she had cancer, and she didn’t want me to have to live through it when I was moving away. She broke up with me so I could go chase my dreams and build my career without being bogged down. She gave up her own happiness so that I could have my own,” the brunette spat, her face red with exertion. Whether it was to keep her anger inwards or to stop the tears that burned in the back of her eyes, the Catalan was unsure.
“She did it to protect me, and I gave her the benefit of the doubt for her decision for a decade before you two got so defensive and twisted my mind. She was never the selfish person you made her out to be, she was always the most selfless, empathetic, compassionate of all of us!” Alexia argued, and she seemed only to be growing more and more in her anger.
“Alexia–” Eli tried to interrupt, but she was quickly cut off.
“No! I don’t even want to hear you two attempt to explain yourselves. I don’t want to hear it. I loved her, I love her now, and I’ve fucked it all up with your words in my mouth! She left the conversation in tears, she told me to leave her alone. If you two hadn’t been so horrible about the whole thing, I never would have been so skeptical in the first place!” Alexia was ready to burst at the seams, and she couldn’t handle it.
“Now Ale, we only did that because we wanted to protect y–” Alba attempted to interject, failing just as her mother had.
“I don’t even want to hear it! I am so angry at the two of you, especially considering that you hardly let me get a word in edgewise about her character. She grew up with us, she loves us, and she trusted you with her heart just as much as you trusted her with mine. So don’t sit there and say anything, but maybe think about your own actions!” Alexia finally demanded, her words fervent in manner.
When her mother and sister said nothing but looked at her in shock, the brunette shook her head and chuckled austerely, not a trace of humor in her tone.
“God, and now you don’t even have anything to say for yourselves,” she looked around at her mother’s kitchen as she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. The midfielder was aware she was only redirecting her anger onto two people whose blame was minimal, but the affliction in her heart needed somewhere to go.
“I have to go, I will talk to you two later,” Alexia said after a second, defeat heavy in her expression as the anger began to drain out of her. It was replaced by an excruciating misery that weighed on her shoulders exactingly, as though it knew that she was really the one to blame in all of this.
She felt as though she had lead in her shoes as she walked out to her car. The drive back to her apartment was done in complete silence, the Catalan unable to deal with anything other than the chaos in her mind.
She barely made it one step in the door before the first sob bubbled up her throat. She finally allowed herself to succumb to it, sobbing so hard that her ribs ached and her eyes swelled, and she had nobody to blame for everything except for herself.
—
Every single person on the team could immediately tell something was wrong with Alexia when she showed up at training the next day.
Alexia had always been the most dedicated of them all, relentless in her pursuit to be better. She was endlessly pushing herself and those around her to be their best selves, and it paid off. The team worked hard, and they looked better than ever. The Catalan had helped to lift them from relative obscurity into a team that people feared to play, and as much as Vicky was their fearless leader, every single player would tell you that the Catalan was their beating heart.
But today? Well, today the brunette looked about two steps away from death as she walked into the changing room.
Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot. Her hair was mildly unkempt, her skin sullen, the bags under her eyes endlessly listless. She kept her head down, and changed as though she wished she could curl up into a ball and never be seen again. The midfielder was usually a quiet person, but today she seemed…unobservant.
Somehow, that made all of it seem worse.
Jenni and Mariona were instantly alarmed because they knew what had happened, while the other girls were both confused and in a state of shock. Nobody had ever seen Alexia this clearly upset, considering the fact that she typically kept things close to her chest.
To be this outwardly downtrodden was incomprehensible, to the point where the rest of the team wasn’t sure how to act toward her. They all seemed to avoid her as though she was radioactive, and she made no attempt to engage with any of them.
Jenni, Mariona, and Vicky, however, had no problem marching over to the Catalan as they created a concerned cocoon around her.
“What happened Alexia?” Vicky questioned gently, only to receive nothing short of the death glare back from Jenni and Mariona in response.
“How did it go?” Mariona amended quietly, hopeful that they might have been able to draw out some sort of reaction from the midfielder. It was clear the conversation had not gone well, but they did not know why.
And sure enough, Alexia’s entire face flashed into something nearly venomous, and she shook her head with what looked to be a clearly concerted effort to remain in control.
“Nothing. I would appreciate it if everyone left me alone and we could conduct training as normal, like we are supposed to be doing,” she managed to grit out pointedly, her voice bolstered with hostility and malice. The three women looked around at each other, none of them in the least bit convinced, but the mutually agreed upon decision seemed to be that they clearly weren’t going to get anything out of the brunette right now.
The midfielder was a monster at training that day, and not in a good way.
Every single ball was launched with a lethal ferocity. Every single pass was too hard, every single first touch sloppy and heavy.
None of the movements were reminiscent of the Alexia that everyone had come to know. It wasn’t great football, it wasn’t even good football. The midfielder was clearly angry at something, and the longer practice went on, the worse it got. The Catalan was frustrated with herself, bitter and enraged at how she seemed unable to play with any ounce of grace.
It felt ironically similar to how she seemed unable to converse with you without accusation, a thought she was ruefully reminded of.
It was when she sent a ball flying angled toward Caro’s head that Vicky and Marta finally pulled the midfielder aside brashly. The captain of the team had taken one look at their manager, whose expression agreed with her own, to know what needed to be done.
“You’re done for the day,” Vicky stated without an ounce of discussion left in the conversation. Alexia certainly wasn’t in the mood to be ordered around as she decisively brushed them off.
“I’m fine, we still have another half hou–” The brunette was cut off without even managing to finish her sentence.
“No. You are done, you’re going to go back to the changing room and take a long shower. You’re going to get dressed and go home and process whatever you’re trying to avoid right now by almost murdering your teammates,” the Barcelona captain dictated with even greater finality, her eyebrow raised as though she dared the younger woman to argue with her.
Alexia looked posed to respond, but when she caught Marta looking back at the Norwegian with worried eyes, she felt the fight drain out of her. The older Spaniard had always had a sweet spot for the nervous Wolfsburg transfer, and seeing it right in front of her eyes made her deflate like a balloon.
She knew that look.
She had lived that look before, when she hadn’t fucked all of this up seven ways to Sunday.
With a reluctant, apologetic glance at Marta, the midfielder nodded her head. She turned on her heels, much to the surprise of her co-captains, who were honestly expecting more of a pushback.
As they watched the midfielder walk off the pitch, they stared at the way her body seemed to curl in on herself, almost as though the brunette couldn’t bear to stand up straight as she stared down at her feet.
“What the hell happened?” Marta asked Vicky as she looked over at her captain. But the Barcelona captain was unable to tear her eyes away from Alexia’s retreating form until it disappeared into the building. It was only then that she looked over at Jenni, who hovered a short distance away from them with a look of unease on her face.
Vicky shook her head before she turned back to the pitch.
“I honestly have no idea,” she replied curtly as she made direct eye contact with Jenni, who seemed to understand the silent request of her captain as she turned back toward practice.
When the team filed in after training was done, Alexia and all of her stuff were gone, nowhere to be seen.
—
Nine years.
You had lived with the grief of losing her for nine years. You would never change your mind on the decision, but God did it feel as though you were sucking the blood out of your body. Even all of these years later, it still stung to think about how much you had lost in that moment.
Alexia took every ounce of happiness and peace with her when she left. While you still had other friends, you were by no means alone, it was never the same without her there. You hardly had to speak a single word for the brunette to understand where your mind was at. There was a closeness to the two of you that was impossible to replace. It hadn’t been the same after she had left, no longer having a confidant who held space for you.
Your father, while a lovely man, was never terribly involved in your life. He loved you, but having children was never his dream, and with how much he worked, you rarely saw him. It was a loss that you didn’t feel rather acutely, especially not when Jaume had swept you into his orbit through your friendship with Alexia. He had loved you like a daughter, and you cherished him for it in a way you had never managed with your own father.
Your two younger brothers, Leo and Adan, had struggled when you had gotten sick. They always looked up to you as their protector and ring leader. Seeing you unable to help, organize, and work as you usually did was strange for them, especially considering the fact that they were only fifteen and fourteen at the time. And while you spent much of your childhood watching over them with a loving gaze, it was your mother who stepped up to take care of them more.
Your mother Paula was a lovely, exuberant woman, if not a touch frazzled. She was a better entertainer than she was a mother, but there was no question she loved the three of you. The two of you had been a team in helping to raise the boys, because while your mother had wisdom you were steadfast in your ability to calm. You had been a significant help in raising the two boys, and your mother had come to rely on you as a result. It had all gotten thrown out of place when you had gotten sick. Your mother tried to pick up the slack, bless her, but she struggled. She did as best as she could until you were declared cancer free, and able to help pick up some of the slack that had been created. It helped that your brothers were compassionate and kind, never one to try and cause too much trouble.
Your mother passed away just a few years ago because of a brain aneurysm, much to the devastation of your father. While you missed her terribly, you never needed her for stability and strength. That was found on your own.
Chemo treatments were mostly done on your own, a book and a sick bag in hand. It was a tough three months, but you made it through with as big of a smile as you could muster. A friend would accompany you occasionally, but they never quite knew what to do when they were there with you. Not that you faulted them for it, but it only made you more exhausted having to entertain on top of feeling ill.
After a grueling few months, the tumor had shrunk enough to be surgically removed, and a few rounds of radiation killed off the last of it. It had been less than a year to get rid of everything, though in your mind it had felt much longer.
Overall, the treatment had gone well from a medical perspective. You had responded well and were declared to be in remission swiftly. You were young and otherwise healthy, making you the perfect candidate to respond to treatment.
That didn’t seem to account for the ache that persisted deep in your chest, but it wasn’t as a result of your sickness. The sense of loss that pervaded your mind for years afterward was impossible to banish. You had not made a mistake, and yet your mind and body betrayed you with a wanton amount of unearned yearning.
There was a restlessness that existed within you, a restlessness that needed to be solved and yet had nowhere to go.
You had begun university toward the end of your treatments and sped through a track in finance, turning heads each and every way you went. There was always a level of intelligence to you that you were aware of, but investment analysis and management came naturally to you it seemed.
Though you had the opportunity to go earlier, you waited dutifully for your brothers to finish school and go off to university before you left your hometown. Leo ended up in Valencia for school, and a year later Adan made the decision to stay in Madrid for his degree.
Once you were certain your brothers were settled, you began to dig for opportunities in your own career. The work you had put in paid off, and you had offers not only in Spain but France, Italy, the United States as well.
You didn’t care about any of that, though. You took the one job that put you directly in Barcelona and decided to figure it out from there.
There was a safety and security to being in the same city as Alexia, even if she had no clue you were there. You were thankful for the move, honestly, thankful for the opportunity to meet new friends and build your own life. The sun forever shined and the city was exciting and vibrant, devoid of the reminders that face you everywhere in Madrid.
Both of your brothers ended up staying in or returning to Madrid, living near your mother until her death and trying to stay vaguely connected to your father. He had struggled immensely in the wake of her passing, but both Leo and Adan never seemed to mind stepping in to keep him on the right path.
By all logical standards, you had a wonderful life. An amazing group of friends, a job you really enjoyed, hobbies you found interesting. It felt like the whole package of what someone would want in their life.
But you found in the morning after your talk with Alexia, there was nothing you wanted to do with this life. You simply wanted to be left alone to rot, and you found that you didn’t care who disagreed. The longing in your heart threatened to swallow you whole, your hatred for your decisions every single day of the last nine years.
You had finally been honest with Alexia, you had told her the truth…but was it worth it?
Based on the feeling inside of you right now, it wasn’t worth it.
You would have taken anger over devastation on her face any day.
You loved her too much to care about your own peace of mind.
And yet…
—
Alexia nearly jumped out of her skin when she unlocked the door of her apartment, only to find that Jenni was sitting on her couch with a glass of lemonade and a raised brow. The midfielder did a complete double take, confounded when she reminded herself that the door had in fact been locked before she came in here.
“How the hell did you get in here?” The Catalan asked with confusion as her heart rate struggled to return to an acceptable level. She looked around her apartment with a perplexed glint to her expression, as though she expected to find the answer laying in front of her in the form of a crowbar or something.
“Oh please, we’ve been friends for many years. We are both allowed to have our little secrets, no?” Jenni diverted, and Alexia shook her head instantly, looking toward the striker with a lost expression.
“What – no?! That doesn’t mean you get to break into my apartment! How did you even get in her–”
“This is not the point of this conversation, Alexia,” Jenni cut her friend off easily, ignoring how bewildered the brunette was as a result of her surprise appearance. The striker settled, a concerned look flashing across her features. “You fucked up that conversation, didn’t you?”
“You’re not allowed to just barge in here whenever you want!” Alexia spat, a sudden rush of anger coursing through her at Jenni’s words. Defensiveness coursed through her veins with a fury, and nobody had managed to pin her down for long enough to have a real conversation with her.
Until now, apparently.
When the raven-haired woman leveled her with a disbelieving stare, the Catalan’s shoulders collapsed just slightly. When Jenni wanted something, she was like a dog with a bone. She would stop at absolutely nothing to get it, and the midfielder knew there was no way of getting out of this conversation with anger or deflections. She sighed forcefully, settling her keys down on her kitchen counter and pressing her head into her hands.
“I did,” she conceded after a moment, her voice shaky and impossibly quiet. When she finally looked up, the torment inside her entire body seemed to reflect in her expression. Jenni felt horrible, seeing how torn up her friend was.
“I fucked everything up Jenni, everything. I came into it with so much aggression and fear, and made all these accusations I don’t even really think I meant,” she admitted with a humorless chuckle, an echo of agony in her words.
Silence cascaded around them, the air thick with regret and despondency.
“She was sick,” Alexia revealed after a moment. She glanced up at Jenni, struggling to control herself. “She was sick, and so she broke things off because she couldn’t leave, but she wanted me to. She saved my career, made a sacrifice for my own happiness, and in return I screamed horrible things at her. What kind of person does that make me?” Alexia pleaded, her voice cracking over the last sentence.
Jenni thought about the question for a moment before she shook her head and looked back at Alexia. There was a compassion in her expression, and the Catalan forced herself to look away in the face of it. She didn’t deserve it.
“It makes you human, Alexia,” the raven-haired woman countered, her words soft and sympathetic, almost saccharine in their amount of sweetness.
“No it doesn’t,” Alexia grumbled under her breath, but Jenni was quick to continue.
“Yes it does. You did not have all the information at the time. And okay, you said some things you regret? Go apologize for them then! You made a mistake, and you feel remorse, Alexia. That in and of itself means that there is love and compassion in your heart.”
“And if she doesn’t accept that apology?” Alexia shot back, fighting to be kind as she was gripped with fear. She looked over at Jenni with a flame in her eyes, anything to hide how upset she truly was. It was easier to mask it than it was to face it, after all.
“Then she doesn’t accept the apology, and life moves on. But you won’t know if you don’t even bother to try,” Jenni offered as she walked over and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder comfortingly.
“Forgive yourself enough to give her the opportunity to forgive you. If she was in your spot, you would do the same. If she cares as much about you as you say she does, I think you have a fighting chance,” the striker suggested, her voice gentle. The brunette remained deep in thought, thinking hard about Jenni’s words. The raven-haired woman let herself out before Alexia could even formulate a response.
And while there were a lot of thoughts swirling around in Alexia’s mind, perhaps the top of the list was that she really, really needed to get a locksmith to her apartment.
—
It was a thought that often consumed the brunette as her career began to take off. It had been a question, something that weighed on her mind in the dark of night when she lay alone.
Was it worth it?
The duty to herself, to her career pulled at her endlessly. Everyone around her was dedicated to their career, putting it above their family at nearly all cost. And she understood, she wanted to be the best. The pull to change the sport, to leave a legacy behind that made women’s football better than where she had started.
But what was the cost?
How many family dinners had she missed? How many birthdays? How many celebrations?
How many moments had she missed, even just the mundane, small things in life. How many inside jokes and how much late night laughter had evaded her because of this choice?
And she knew that her family loved her, and that they understood how important her career was to her. But it never took away from the fact that she was gone often. That unlike her teammates and peers, she spent the least amount of time with her family as the years had passed. Whereas many of her friends grew more committed to their families, getting married and even having children, football had become her sole focus in life.
Other than you, she had never been in a committed relationship with anyone. Her friendships were from football, everything in her life had revolved around football. Protecting her image, embracing the game, doing whatever she could to advance the team and herself to perfection.
It wasn’t until you had stumbled back into her life that suddenly she remembered what it had been like to live a life. And sure, she knew that her career was different now, much more intense. But the Catalan also knew that you never would have allowed her to become so overwhelmingly immersed into her career.
It was less the time commitment and more the mindset she approached her career with that had changed in your absence. Alexia had always assumed that in order to be the best, she had to be so devoted to football in every aspect of her entire life. That there was no room outside of it for distractions.
Her friends hadn’t become worse because they had loved ones, because they took a step back. They were still dedicated, but also well rested and prepared.
The two of you had been together for so many years, and then football had been the thing to divide you. It was Alexia’s career that had been prioritized above you, a decision that you had made and believed in.
Had you really ever thought you were more important than football?
Had she done that? Had she felt that you were more important than football?
All she could think of was how you were sick and alone, a burden to bear alone when you should have been loved and supported.
Alexia was not angry that you hadn’t told her, not by a long shot. But she was furious with the circumstances, with her own choices, with everything else in the situation besides you.
You had meant so much to her, and she had let you go without any recourse. She never even considered that there was so much depth to the decision you had made.
And now here she stood, trying to pick up the pieces of something that had gone from broken to shattered entirely.
Alexia knew that she loved you.
That she still loves you, even after all this time. There were parts of a person that never changed, and she saw it in your expression.
Even after all this time.
Her career came first in every aspect of her life, but maybe just this once it didn’t have to. Maybe some personal happiness was deserved, maybe it could be her choice to try and fix this.
Maybe she deserved a break, or some peace, or to undo all of the mistakes she had made in the last decade. Maybe the choice she made here would make her better, and not worse.
The brunette had no idea if you still loved her anymore, not after the appalling things she had said, but she couldn’t let it go without at least trying to get you back.
She had lost you once, and she wasn’t prepared to let it happen again without a fight.
—
Alexia can’t bring herself to pick up the phone and dial, so she took the coward's way out and texted you to ask for your address.
Much to her surprise, you answered her. It’s nothing more than the address rattled off, but it’s there. The brunette felt her heart constrict for a moment at the thought that it wasn’t really your address, that you had sent her a fake location.
But at the same time, even if that were the case, a part of her would understand. For all the years that she had been hurt and alone and yearning desperately for you, it had been the same for you.
The choice you had made was impossible, indescribable even, and Alexia knows in her heart that her career wouldn’t be where it was without your sacrifice. You had sacrificed your own dream so that she could live hers, and when it all came back to the two of you all these years later, she had completely desecrated that sacrifice without a second thought.
She continued to be appalled with herself over that entire conversation. It was all she saw every time she closed her eyes, the words she had said rattling around in her brain all night long.
The look on your face as she dug herself into a deeper hole, filled with disregard for how much care you had tried to give the situation. It was never going to be perfect, but you had tried to be perfect. And in that moment, she had acted as though it wasn’t enough.
It was.
You had always been more than enough for her, regardless of whether you two were together or not.
Every single time she had laid in bed since, memories both good and bad of the two of you had pooled in her eyes, rolling down her cheek and escaping onto the pillow beneath her.
She had lost her curiosity inside the ferocity of her own judgement, and she regretted it with every molecule inside of her. She regretted it so much that it made her feel physically ill, to the point where she no longer cared about being appropriate or saving face.
It was late in the evening when she drove over to your apartment. She had a plan to go on Sunday morning, but it was Friday night and her self restraint had ground away until it no longer existed.
The Catalan took the steps two at a time up to the third floor, knowing that each moment likely brought her closer to you. She hoped it did, at least. It was highly possible that you were out with friends or doing something fun, as you should be.
But still hope gripped her with a strength she was unaware she ever had. Loving you was never the detractor she had spent the last decade convincing herself it was, but was where she got her strength.
Loving you had breathed life into her and she was silly to have ever thought differently.
She knocked on the door to your apartment before she could stop herself from overthinking every single one of her life choices. Her knuckles struck against the wooden door exactly three times, each one more forceful than the lost.
The brunette waited with everything in her for the sound of anything in the wake of knocking. Any movement, any sign of life, anything. The seconds felt like hours and years as her heart rammed its way into her throat.
And then she heard it, the softness of your voice as you called out that you were coming.
Alexia was known for being a stoic person, never one to overly show emotion. She kept everything close to her chest, and rarely did she express how she was feeling. It took hours of knowing her, and even then she was still hesitant to show weakness.
But the tears were pooling in her eyes even before you opened the door.
And there you were.
Standing in your pajamas, a book in your hand and an expression of mild surprise at the sight of Alexia nearly in tears at your door. It certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, though you knew the footballer had your address.
“Ale?” You questioned softly, your voice barely there. The brunette swallowed thickly, trying and failing to conjure an apologetic smile.
“I am sorry…I meant to come later but I couldn’t…wait,” she finished lamely, rather breathless as she fought to keep the pressure in her throat from turning into full blown sobs. You stared at her for a second, at how tense she was, at the anxiety written across her face. After you had tucked some of the hair away from your face, you stepped back into your apartment and widened the opening of the door.
“Would you like to come in?” You proposed, and the footballer took your offer up with a shaky nod of her head.
The brunette trailed after you further into the apartment. It was a large apartment, but it felt cozy and lived in. Half-burned candles and ear-marked books were strewn around the space, and a throw blanket could be found on every surface.
She remembered that you had always run cold. When the two of you were young and in love, she would whisper to you about the warmth Barcelona would offer, even as she provided you plenty of her own body heat as she laid curled around you.
“Alexia?” You probed lightly, and she shook her head as she glanced up, realizing that she had let her mind wander. Concern and compassion stared right back at her.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” she replied harshly, trying and failing to be discreet as she wiped at her eyes.
“You don’t have to be,” you said delicately, gesturing toward the couch. “Why don’t we sit down?”
You couldn’t help but realize that right now with just one look at Alexia, you already forgave her. Every line etched into her skin was written with devastation and contrition. Somewhere deep within you knew how she felt, and knew that she did not mean the things she had said.
There was so much information to process, so much confusion and chaos, that you had both lost yourselves.
Maybe there was an opportunity to be found again.
You weren’t going to let the weakness of one moment detract from the opportunity that lay in front of you.
You led her over to the couch, and the pair of you settled down across from one another. You sat with your back against one arm of the couch, while Alexia was across from you, her hands on her knees. Her knuckles were nearly white, and you wished in that moment to reach out and soothe the ache in her heart, even if you knew that you couldn’t. When the midfielder turned toward you, all you found facing you was suppliance.
“I cannot explain to you how sorry I am,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “I had no idea the sacrifice you had made for me, I had no idea that there was so much more behind all of this. I was foolish to believe that you broke up with me over something selfish or petty.”
She seemed to bite her words back, as though her self-loathing was simply too great of a burden to contain for a moment. When she settled, the Catalan continued.
“I never should have spoken to you that way. The truth is that I’ve spent the last nine years missing you, thinking about you, unable to get myself over the years we spent together. It feels as though you’ve been out of my life as long as you were in it, and I hate that. I hate that I haven’t been able to grow with you. I hate that when I lay awake at night I miss you with an ache I cannot even begin to describe to you. I hate that I wasn’t able to be there for you when you needed me. I hate that your sacrifice probably saved my career, even though I wish with everything in me that I was there for you when you needed me,” Alexia finally admitted, deciding to be nothing but brutally honest.
“And I won’t lie to you and say there haven’t been other women in the years without you, but God it never compared to you. I didn’t give a shit about any of them, and I never really expected to. You’re intertwined within my soul in a way I don’t even fully understand, and living without you feels like walking around missing a limb. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten over you, and I tried to force football down my throat because if it was the reason I lost you, it had to be worth it.”
“I miss your smile and your laugh. I miss the way you roll your eyes at me when I do something ridiculous, or how patient you are with me when I get frustrated. I still find myself looking for you in every crowd, at every family gathering, everywhere. When I finally did see you again, it felt like a fever dream. The one thing I’ve wanted for the last nine years was granted to me, and there you were.”
“You were standing there so perfectly and in one piece, and inexplicably, you seem to care about me still. I never could have imagined that happening, even if I dreamt about it every single night of my life that you haven’t been in,” Alexia continued, allowing herself to take a deep breath and center herself. Frustration passed over her face for a moment, entirely
“I fucked this up royally, I know. I let the fear in my heart and the fear that those around me held get in the way of seeing the truth, and I need you to know how sorry I am. I never should have treated you that way. I never should have acted toward you with such hostility. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know that everything I said, I don’t believe. You are brave and wonderful and empathetic, and so, so, extraordinary. Please do not let anyone else ever say that you are not,” Alexia urged, looking at you with such clear intent you couldn’t tear your eyes away.
“I still love you, Flori. I think that I always will. My heart knows what it means to love and be loved by you, and nothing will ever compare to that feeling. My heart was always yours to break, and I don’t care if you do it once or twice or a million times. All I know is that even if you don’t feel the same way, I need you to know that I love you,” Alexia said with finality, barely able to see against the blur of tears that swarmed in her eyes.
You stood up from your end of the couch slowly while her eyes tracked every single one of your movements. You walked closer to her, settling down next to her as closely as you could while you reached over to place your shaking hands against the frame of her face.
“You big, blithering idiot, of course I still love you,” you whispered fiercely, your face scrunched up somewhere between disbelief and teasing. Alexia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was even holding, the entire upper half of her body collapsing into you.
It was easy for you to catch the brunette, cradling her against you as she sobbed without restraint against you. It was easy to rock her back and forth softly, while you whispered sweet nothings into her ears. And it was just as easy to pull her away from you and utter the words she never thought she would hear.
“I forgive you, and of course I still love you Ale. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and you still are. I’m right here, and I don’t plan on going anywhere, if you’ll have me. We might have lost our chance when we were young, but maybe we can have another one?” You proposed hopefully, almost with disbelief. Neither of you ever expected for this to be anywhere near possible, but here you both were.
The Catalan’s expression broke entirely, silent tears rolling down her cheeks in defiance as she placed a hand on your arm and held it tightly.
“I’m here,” was all she could manage, but it was enough.
You leaned into her slowly as you glanced down at her lips, giving her time to pull away. It was a concern you needn't be worried about when she met you halfway, the feeling one of muscle memory even after all this time. You could taste the salt from her tears and yours as you kissed her.
“Please stay,” you murmured through the ball in your throat as you pulled away just a touch, and Alexia gripped you impossibly tighter as she pulled you into a hug.
For the first time in nine years, you fell asleep that night with the footballer’s body curled around your own, the feel of her chest breathing steadily against your back as she held you in her arms with content.
It was the first time in a long while that you had felt warm enough when going to sleep, and hope ballooned inside you fervently.
(a/n: So…anyone up for parts 4-10?)
#alexia putellas x reader#Alexia Putellas#barcelona femeni#jenni hermoso#mariona caldentey#woso x reader#Woso
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my world
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pairing: lando norris x reader warnings: none word count: 1.2 k
summary: lando with a woman and 2 kids in the paddock?
Lando has always been a private person. Of course, he occasionally posted a vlog, showed clips of his golfing, streamed, or just showed some racing related stuff.
What no one of the fans knew was, that after every single race there is his family waiting for him. They nearly found out when Lando streamed and their daughter decided that it was the perfect moment to throw a tantrum because she didn’t want to eat her dinner as it was ‘the wrong shape’.
But now that Livy was three and understood what her dad does for a living she really wanted to watch a race so Y/N and Lando had agreed to take her to the Monaco Grand Prix. It was near their home so if anything became to much for the kids, Y/N could just take them home and they would watch the rest of the race from their balcony.
So today you were dressed in a simple baggy jeans, that weren’t so baggy anymore when you compare them to Charles’, and a papaya colored shirt, though no one could see the ‘LN4’ printed on it because of the wraparound baby carrier in which the one month old Aiden was sleeping peacefully.
Livy was wearing a cute white dress with tiny orange flowers printed on it. She was holding Lando’s hand and happily walking through the paddock as if she had done it a million times before.
“I’ll just introduce you to Oscar real quick. Lily isn’t here today so if you want to go to another garage to talk to someone other than the mechanics you can just do that, ok?”, Lando asked as he looked at you with a wide smile that let you know he was happy for you to be here today.
“I know, Lan. You’ve told me that ten times already”, you said leaving forward and pressing a kiss on his lips.
“I know, baby, Just making sure”, your husband said, still smiling.
“Daddy? Why are there no cars?”, Livy said as she looked up at Lando, looking completely confused. Her dad picked her up.
“They are in the garages, baby girl. You will see them later, ok?”
Livia scrunched her nose in disappointment.
“Hm. Wanna see cars now.”
“I know. Oh! There is Oscar! Hey, Osc. How’re you doing?”, Lando asked casually.
You couldn’t help but see how confused the Australian looked.
“Uhm… good? Who… is that?”, Oscar asked while he tried to be polite but he looked absolutely puzzled.
“That is my family. Surprise, I guess. Y/N, my wife. Livy, my daughter. And the little one is Aiden, our baby boy. Sorry I didn’t tell you about them but I really didn’t want the kids to be in the media so much already.”
What Lando didn’t know was that the whole internet was already going wild.
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f1gossip Lando Norris seen at the paddock with a woman and kids. Does he have a new girlfriend?
username1 omg. lando is dating a single mom??
username2 pretty sure she is a gold digger…
username3 did she baby trap lando…?
username4 please tell me lando isn’t going to retire now bc he feels like he has to take care of those kids…
username5 pretty sure she only wants his money…
username6 guys do your research. she is Y/N L/N… ceo of some company and literally richer than lando…
#####
Livy in the meanwhile was mesmerized.
“Oscy has pretty hair”, she whispered into her dad’s ear though it was so loud that Oscar heard it and started laughing which made Livia all shy.
“Thank you, little one”, he said while he was still laughing which made Liv hide her face in Lando’s neck who just bounced her a little and laughed.
“She is a little shy. Sorry, mate”, he said to his teammate.
“All good. And this is Aiden? He is super cute”, Oscar said while looking at Aiden who was peacefully sleeping.
“Yes. That’s our little one. He was super mad today when I woke him up to get him dressed though so he is mostly sleeping now”, you said smiling at your little baby boy who sighed in his sleep.
Oscar smiled while looking at the newborn and you started wondering if he will ever also have a kid with Lily.
“Daddy. Wanna see the cars now. Please?”, Livia asked though she was immediately distracted when she saw Charles with his girlfriend Alex walking by. But these two weren’t the ones who got Liv’s attention. It was Leo who was running after the couple on a leash.
“DADDY! THERE IS A DOGGY!”, she explained and squirmed in her dad’s arms to make him put her down.
The second her feet touched the ground she started running over to Leo and plopped down on the ground next to the dachshund who immediately started licking her face.
“Livia Norris! You can’t just run off, did you hear me?”, Lando scolded his daughter. “There are many people and cars which can be dangerous. Mommy and I told you to always stay close to us.”
„Sorry, daddy. I didn’t mean to but dog is cute, look!“, The toddler said while pointing at Leo. „What’s doggy‘s name?“, Liv asked Charles who was standing next to her.
„That’s Leo. He is cute, isn’t he?“, the Monegasque said to Liv while looking at his dog with a proud smile which made Livy nod enthusiastically.
Livia was now looking at Alex who was standing a bit behind Charles.
„You pretty“, she said looking at Alex‘ red dress and then looking back at Leo.
„Thank you sweetie! That’s very nice of you! But so do you. Such a pretty dress. Did you choose it yourself?“, Alex asked while crouching down to be on the same level as Liv.
„No. My mommy said I should wear it because it makes me look like a princess. But daddy said I wear it because the flowers are orange“, she answered shrugging nonchalantly.
Alex just nodded not knowing what to say now. But it didn’t really matter anyway as Liv already spotted Lewis and was immediately obsessed with his braids. She squealed and ran over to the ferrari driver.
„Your hair is so pretty! Did your mommy do that? My mommy always does my hair!“, the little girl said looking up at Lewis while Lando just groaned.
„She already loves half the grid more than me“, he said to you pretending to pout as he wraps an arm around your waist and walked over to Lewis and Livy while he pulled out his phone. „Oh wow the internet is calling you a gold digger now. Interesting“, he said rolling his eyes.
„Let them talk. They will find out who is paying for your golf trips soon enough“, you said chuckling.
But Lando really couldn’t just let them talk. You were his family and important to him.
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lando My world (and just for the record she is not a gold digger)
username1 lando has been hiding a whole family for years???
username2 cant believe lando is dating her… he could do so much better
username3 the haters are always gonna hate…
username4 such a cute family they look so happy
username5 not liv loving half the grid more than lando…
a/n: y’all don’t know how long this took me even though it isn’t long or anything…
taglist: @strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234
#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 x female reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1#f1#formula one#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando x reader#lando norris x y/n#ln4 x reader#ln4 x y/n
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might be my 3rd fav pic ever. love the blue twilight lighting, i love their matching stripes. how they “match” but aren’t perfect. they don’t fit together perfectly. no pants just adds to the intimacy. i love the navy’s matching the bedsheets and wow wow wow this pose. everything i want and need.
the boldness and sensuality of being between his legs yet their hands are so light when touching each other’s bodies when it isn’t necessary for support. like how his right hand holds her back so she doesn’t fall but on the left hand his fingertips are just barely floating on the upper part of her back. only her one hand touching his back while the other she relies on her wrist already on him for the support she needs. even her leaning ever-so slightly back. like she’s either hesitant and pulling away, or trying to match his concealment and break her way into his line of sight(i prefer the ladder).
and wow dude, i love head positioning so much when it comes to these “lover” pictures. again, to be in such a compromising and seductive position without your pants, BUT to also have your head turned away in shame?fear?enjoyment?embarrassment? it’s gorgeous. for him he turns, but she still is trying to break in and look him in the eyes with her head turned towards him ughhhh. a beautiful thing
just so much to breakdown. so much nuance to(again)be in this semi-carnal position and yet have so much still be hidden with their poses. think about how they got here. they each only have one hand boldly on each other, maybe they’re both scared. his other hand is weak in comparison to his other and she also only has the one hand on him, while she relies on herself for the other remaining support. maybe a life raft. despite that, she’s still trying to break into him with her look while he hides his face. and again it’s beautiful to connect all this emotional fear & doubt while they are in this position with their goddamn pants off lol
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maren-celest, 2009
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" you too ! "
super short head canons of kaiser being a cheater wuh oh (and reader being a giiirlboss <3 but not rlly cus they end up fawking..) yes there's smut so users be aware!! oh, there's some bits of non-con/dub-con btw! oh oh and literally cue "you too" by chase atlantic.
cheater!kaiser who realizes he fucked up big time. "wait — [name]. süße! don't be like that. y'know she's jus' a friend" he tried to convince you.
cheater!kaiser who's getting his ass absolutely roasted right now. "I'm sorry that your father never loved you," you spewed out. literal VENOM. "And you saw your mother on the TV too much, oh. doesn't mean you can do this." you continued.
cheater!kaiser who realized you weren't playing around anymore. you were genuinely done with his shit. hell, he should've known he shouldn't have ended a conversation with "i love you" even though he knew it wasn't true (it ended up being true LOL)
cheater!kaiser who found himself on his knees begging you to stay and you couldn't leave him. "you're all i have!" he'd whimper out. "then go get more from that other bitch you're cheatin' on me with." you'd retort.
cheater!kaiser who's now trying to get physical in hopes to repair things. you couldn't push him off. so all you could do was run that venomous and hurtful mouth of yours that once slid out the sweetest things ever.
cheater!kaiser who'd shut you up by crashing his lips onto yours. he knew it was disgusting but, hey. it works. by the time he pulled away, you were less angry..? "ew, i don't wanna have your side hoe's taste lingering in my mouth." you spat out. god do you ever stop?
cheater!kaiser who has you pinned on the floor as he's pressed up against you the way his lips are pressed against yours. his tongue exploring your mouth like it was your first time together.
cheater!kaiser who has you out of breath, carries you to the bed for some cushioning. he continues his rampage on your sweet lips as his big hands are desperately trying to get your shirt off — in which he ends up ripping the shirt.
cheater!kaiser who just decides he'll buy you a new shirt later continues to cover your delicate skin with harsh markings. you pulled him by the rattails, "you must looooo-ove doing this with the other girls you're sleeping 'round with huh?" you snarled.
cheater!kaiser who shuts your pain-inflicting words n noises with a higher pitch loving tone. his big big fingers were teasing along your folds now.
cheater!kaiser who genuinely cannot get enough of you as you're whining, crying, whimpering, all the above on his fdick or fingers. thrust after thrust, your sweet noises filling the room. were they filled with anger? yea, probably. did he care? na. for your and his pleasure.
cheater!kaiser who can't remember why he cheated in the first place as it hit him like an arrow in the heart, you were just perfect. loving, a bitch as well LOL, puts him in his place... perfection. you were the absolute ideal of a partner in his head.
cheater!kaiser who whispers gently, "give me a second chance, liebe. i'll change" into your ear in which you let out a hefty "more than second now. you havent changed at all" guess he's still oughta fuck the anger out of you.
— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2025
a/n: omg hi bbys um ive been very freaking busy lately and i've been stacked with lots of drafts... i couldn't rlly get anything out so i was like 'i needa do something" and came up w this im so sorry.. it's like 2 a.m. pls let me slide w this one ughhh im still salty over getting broken up w so shhh... yes this was a somewhat reflection of what happened just minus the sex and stuff bc it wasnt even close... wiasdjsaj i'll get out more soon just trust me... i wanted to like do one for valentines but i couldnt get anything in my head so um i def slacked off also this is all yap YIKESSS but i heart kaiser sosos much omg this wasnt proofread btw
#bllk#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock#blue lock x you#blue lock x reader#bllk x y/n#blue lock x y/n#bllk imagines#blue lock imagines#bllk headcanons#blue lock headcanons#bllk drabbles#bllk smut#blue lock smut#blue lock drabbles#michael kaiser x you#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser x y/n#kaiser x reader#kaiser x you#kaiser x y/n#michael kaiser smut#kaiser smut#chase atlantic was playing#i love chase atlantic#isaisliterallyhimwrites#omg i heart kaiser
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➤ top!teen!shauna x afab!sub!reader
⤷ cw: shauna taking her anger out on reader, mean shauna, bitting, shauna spitting on reader's face, rough fingering, a bit of dumbification, kinda dubcon if you squint..
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Fuck them.
Fuck all of them—fuck Mari, fuck Nat, fuck Tai.
But specially Mari.
If that bitch got mad because of some spit in her soup, then she doesn't even know what Shauna is capable of doing. A week of house arrest as consequence for smashing Mari's face against the ground? She can handle that; after all, she's been through worst.
Shauna wasn't surprised when you ran after her, though, she was hoping you'd do it.
The minute you stepped foot in her shelter, her chapped lips were on yours—kissing you with bruising force, a kiss that would've disgusted you if it wasn't coming from your girlfriend—.
She didn't hesitate to basically throw you onto the floor and climb on top of you, not once separating her lips from yours. Shaky and warm hands quickly slid beneath the dirty clothes you were wearing with raw desperation, dry palms groping every inch of skin they had access to.
"Shauna hold on—" You tried to speak yet it was useless, she wasn't in the mood to talk. "Shut up. I don't want to fucking hear you." She growled the moment she—miraculously—pulled away from the kiss. Her lips then traveled down and hovered over your throat, sharp teeth digging in and bitting you. Hard.
Your scream of pain only fueled that deep hunger she had and she didn't even care if someone heard. Her hands proceeded to pull your shorts and panties down, revealing your cunt.
Her fingers found your clit and started drawing quick, harsh circles on the bud—her teeth still holding onto the sensitive skin of your neck with enough strength to cause you to bleed.
"Fucking bitch... i'll give her something to be mad about..." She babbled against your flesh—clearly talking about Mari—, a mix of her saliva and your blood now beginning to dribble down and stain your shirt.
Suddenly, her fingers brushed against your folds before dipping past your hole, not wasting a second before she started sliding them in and out of you—not caring if you weren't wet enough—. Despite the burning feeling the invasion of her digits were causing you, you couldn't help but feel a hint of pleasure.
Shauna could beat the life out of you and you'd still like it.
"She can't handle some spit mhm? What a fucking moron.." She rambled, though she pulled her mouth away from your neck after finishing her sentence—no longer slobbering all over you—. "You can, though, right?" She abruptly asked you yet didn't wait for your answer before she spat right on the middle of your face.
The feeling of her warm, thick saliva splattering all over your face immediately caused a whine to slip past your lips, your hips unconsciously bucking against her fingers—the tip of her digits lightly pressing against that spongey spot that turned you dumb—.
Shauna didn't care if you responded or not, she simply kept talking—knowing you were listening. "Yeah you can, you always take everything i give you..." She whispered, her breath coming in short puffs while she sped up her fingers.
The vulgar act of her spitting on you made your pussy wetter than it has ever been—gods, you loved it when Shauna went feral on you.
It was now easier for her long fingers to thrust into you; the lewd, squelching sounds your cunt made as it swallowed her digits were loud enough for the other girls to hear—yet once again, she didn't care.
It didn't take long before you started to tighten around her, her strokes becoming sloppier as your arousal slowly traveled down your thighs. Your hand wrapped around her forearm as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the combination of her fingerfucking you and talking to you like that making your brain fuzzy.
"S-Shauna..." You whined out her name, your back arching off the cold floor and your hand gripping her forearm rougher than before.
Shauna being Shauna just couldn't get enough of you—she needed more; more of your sounds, of your reactions, and she knew how to get them.
Slowly, she added a third finger into your spasming hole; the sight of you jolting and moaning being the reason for her smirk.
Was it too much? Definitely. Yet, for some reason, the pain felt too good.
"Take it, i know you can." She told you—almost commanding you—before leaning down and messily kissing you again while she stretched you out.
Before you could warn her, your body shook. A loud, breathy moan erupted from your throat as your orgasm hit you like a damn train. Whimpering against her mouth, you couldn't help but trash around beneath her as your walls fluttered against her fingers—the stimulation you were receiving causing tears to swell up in the corner of your eyes.
The brown-eyed girl's problems immediately faded away as you came. Even with how rough she was being, you were the most important thing in her life—the only thing she had left. You knew how to make her feel better and the best part was that you didn't even need to do anything.
She dragged her lips away from yours and pressed them all over your face, leaving a wet trail in their path, before slowly pulling her fingers out of your drooling pussy.
Shauna will get back at them one of these days—she'll make them regret treating her like shit—, but not today.
Right now, you were all that mattered.
#shauna shipman#shauna shipman smut#shauna shipman x reader#shauna shipman x you#yellowjackets#yellowjackets season 3#yellowjackets smut#yellowjackets x reader#smut#x reader#wlw#my stuff:3
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{ID - Series of tweets from @/grumpwitch about working in a public library:
"Things I have learned about the general public whilst working at the library: 1. A huge number of people under 20 can't face clocks, having grrown up with only digital ones.
2. Many people don't know how to spell "library." It's in our email address. This causes problems.
3. A disturbing number of young people don't actually know how book-lending at the library works. They assume it costs money! Teach your children about libraries!
4. Crime and thriller are basically the same thing in many cases. In fact, we have doubles of books because of that.
5. People use hidden codes like asterisks to mark which books they've read! The system will let you know if you've already borrowed something! Just ask.
6. If an automatic door breaks, people will walk into it instead of reading the sign at face height.
7. Libraries are a godsend for blind and deaf people and not just for audioboks. They can come for help with filling out forms and getting directions.
8. Some elderly people go through books at a TERRIFYING rate. They are to be feared and respected. 9. Some people are so afraid of computers that they will come to you with a query and then become upset if you offer to look it up on the compute instead of in a book.
10. Some poeple have never, ever used a telephone. Especially older women. Their husband did it for them.
11. The DWP fuck over everyone but especially the most vulnerable and I haven't met a single library worker who hasn't helped struggling library users with food or phone calls or even a cup of tea when it's cold and they can't afford heating.
12. The Job Centre regularly lie to people and like to tell them that they can get services at libraries that simply do not exist. We will try our very best to help you get what you should have been given at the Job Centre.
13. Most banks assume that everyone has an email now. In fact, some people have trouble proving they exist at all without one.
14. Library folk are good folk. We do this because we are passionate about it. We have to be.
15. Libraries aren't quiet anymore. They're community hubs now. They may have quiet study areas but most libraries are bustling with activity. Between kids' classes, singing and memory groups for those with Dementia, crafts sessions and noisy office equipment, don't expect silence.
16. Libraries remain the only place where you can spend hours in a publically-accessible building without being expected to spend money. Parents come to entertain their children for free on wet days. People in poverty come for a warm place to sit. Libraries are a haven.
17. Some people will go their entire lives only reading 2-3 authors but still have enough material to read a book every month. (See also: Danielle Steel, James Patterson, Clive Cussler, etc.)
18. A library lives and dies by the staff on the counter. You can have the best funding, all of the books and tech in the world but you'll only get footfall if your staff go above and beyond. Sometimes even that doesnt work, though and it's frustrating.
19. We're funded based on footfall. I've seen staff cry because we lost a youth group to a private hall that has fancier facilities like a cafe. We need all the footfall we can get.
20. Staff are hitting their head against walls volunteering to create events, classes and groups only to have them shot down because local councils don't understand social media or want to charge for it. I can't overemphasise just how much unpaid work staff do.
21. Most of the facilities are only working because staff pay out of pocket to get things working. My manager bought a new laminator when we couldn't afford one. She buys in colouring materials for kids. We sometimes bring in our own stationary. We even buy lightbulbs in.
22. Authors don't like to visit little libraries because they don't get paid. Bookstores often pay.
23. The "sexy librarian" trop has actually done a LOT of harm and has caused countless incidences of sexual assalt by men who can't tell the difference between porn and reality.
24. Old ladies keep libraries in business. Old ladies who read are the best. Old ladies who can tell you exactly which page features the most gruesome murder scene are the very best.
25. Library staff ALWAYS want to know what you thought of the book. We want to know what to recommend to others!
26. I'm not supposed to have favourite library users but I do: I love library couples, who bicker over each others' reading tastes or share books and then argue about the themes. I also love the autistic kids with special interests. I will crawl over hot coals to get you a book about the specific type of train you are interested in, tiny child. I will listen to you tell me about it in great detail. I will try to remember for the next time you come in.
27. The single best moment, for me, is when a library user graduates from Young Adult to Adult and suddenly the entire library is open tothem! They can read anything! No more tiny teen section! All of the classics! Sci fi! Horror! They often get overwhelmed.
28. And finally, because I've spammed you long enough and because my typos are mounting up, remember this: Library staff can overcome many challenges but Book Gods help you if you deprive us of caffeine. You don't want to see what happens then.
END ID}
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FLIGHT 2136: PART 6
paige x azzi
warning: drinking, sexual content (don’t say i didn’t warn you)
word count: 11.6k
A/N: I didn’t get much sleep so I’m beat and don’t have much to say today lol 😭. I think people will like this chapter and maybe it’ll make you leave me alone about heat check part 2 😒. Leave live reacts and comments if you can. I also want to know what you guys want to see going forward 🫶🏼
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The morning after Ted’s, Paige and Azzi laid tangled together in Azzi’s bed, the room was silent besides the hum of the fan that Paige insisted they turn on after they got out of the shower. Azzi’s fingers were tracing feather-light patterns along the scar on Paige’s torso, the touch absentminded but still deliberate.
Paige’s eyes were closed, her breathing steady, and for once, she looked completely at peace. Azzi watched her for a moment, then used her other hand to brush a few stray strands of hair from Paige’s face.
“What are you thinking about?” Azzi whispered.
Paige’s lashes fluttered slightly, but she didn’t open her eyes. “Surprisingly… nothing,” she mumbled.
Azzi smiled at that, finding an odd sense of warmth in Paige’s answer. She didn't say anything back, just let her head rest back against the pillows, closing her own eyes as she continued tracing soft patterns along Paige’s scar.
A moment passed before Paige’s voice broke the silence. “That feels nice baby.”
Azzi’s eyes opened again, meeting the now familiar blue ones staring up at her. Paige was watching her now, her expression completely tender. Azzi felt her heart tug, a slow and steady ache that had nothing to do with pain.
“You’re so beautiful,” Azzi murmured as she gazed into Paige’s eyes.
Paige let out a quiet hum, a smile growing on her face. “You’re gorgeous, angel.”
Azzi exhaled a soft laugh. “You ever gonna just accept a compliment?”
Paige’s smile widened. “Can’t help but give you one back.”
Azzi’s fingers stilled for a moment before she spoke. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
Paige’s blue eyes softened as she looked up at Azzi. “I’m glad I’m here too.”
Azzi let her fingers go back to tracing patterns across Paige’s torso before a smirk tugged at her lips. “You’re a little rusty on the court though.”
Paige scoffed, lifting her head off of Azzi’s stomach slightly. “Excuse me?”
Azzi laughed. “Just a tiny bit.”
Paige narrowed her eyes, propping herself up on one elbow. “C’mon, Az, you know that’s a lie.”
Azzi looked like she was about to argue, but before she could, Paige shifted, slipping from between her legs and rolling off the bed. “Nah, c’mon. Let’s go play.”
Azzi groaned dramatically, flopping back against the pillows. “Baby, please, it’s Saturday.”
Paige shook her head no as if not going wasn’t an option. “You called me rusty. I can’t let that slide.”
Azzi still didn’t move, looking way too comfortable in bed. Paige knowing how to get her up raised a brow as she said, “What, you scared I’ll prove I’m better?”
Azzi’s eyes widened, her head snapping toward Paige. “Excuse me?”
Paige smirked. “I’m better than you, Azzi.”
Azzi scoffed, sitting up. “Paige, baby… no, you aren’t.”
Paige just gave her a look with a smirk on her face. That was all it took. With a dramatic sigh, Azzi threw off the covers and got up, grabbing a pair of sweats.
Paige chuckled, shaking her head as she watched Azzi get dressed. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
Azzi pulled on her hoodie. “I’ve seen you in practice this week. Yes, you’re good…great actually—but you’re not better than me.”
Paige just shrugged. “We’ll see.”
With that, the two of them headed out of Azzi’s room, making their way to the gym.
After stopping by the locker room to grab their shoes and change, Paige and Azzi stepped on the court, both in shorts and T-shirts.
Azzi had a ball tucked under her arm, spinning it once on her palm before bouncing it toward Paige. “Shoot for ball.”
Paige caught it easily, dribbling once before shooting. The ball swished cleanly through the net.
Azzi playfully rolled her eyes. “Of course.”
Paige smirked as Azzi walked toward her, meeting her at the top of the key. “First to eleven. Ones and twos.”
Azzi nodded.
Paige checked the ball, bouncing it to Azzi, who quickly returned it.
Paige jabbed left—not too hard, just enough to gauge Azzi’s reaction. Azzi shifted slightly, staying balanced, eyes locked on the ball. Paige smirked, repeating the jab, this time dragging her dribble before shifting between her legs, one quick bounce to the right.
Azzi stayed in front of her, cutting off the drive, but Paige was a slight step ahead. She created just enough space, fading back from the elbow of the, the ball rolling off her fingertips smoothly.
Swish.
Paige walked back to the top of the key, her smirk growing. “1-0.”
She checked the ball with Azzi again, who bounced it back, this time playing a little further off. Paige noticed the adjustment immediately.
Without hesitation, she pulled from the top of the key. The ball barely grazed the net as it fell through.
Paige’s smirk deepened. “3-0.”
Azzi huffed, rolling her shoulders as she locked in.
Paige checked the ball, and Azzi bounced it right back—this time stepping in closer, a soft hand resting on Paige’s hip.
Paige smirked. “Oh, we hand-checking now?”
Azzi mumbled out,“Shut up.”
Paige chuckled, trying to shift past Azzi with another move. Just as she went to explode forward, Azzi’s hand was quicker—stripping the ball.
“Damn,” Paige muttered.
Azzi cleared the ball beyond the three-point line, keeping her dribble low. She hit an in-and-out, between-the-legs, before stepping back—just enough space.
Azzi flicked her wrist perfectly.
Paige didn’t even have to turn around to know. The sound of the ball snapping through the net was enough.
Azzi smiled as she jogged forward. “3-2.”
Paige licked her lips, eyes shining with challenge as she picked up the ball.
Azzi held out her hands, nodding. “Check up.”
Paige grinned. This was going to be fun.
…
The game had stretched on for who knows how long. What started as something that was supposed to be a quick matchup had turned into a back and forth game. At some point, they agreed to win by two, causing them to blow past eleven.
Paige’s shirt had been discarded a while ago, her skin glistening in her sports bra. Azzi’s shirt clung to her in patches, damp with sweat, her toned arms slick as she wiped her face with her shirt.
Right now, Paige had the ball, Azzi locked in on her, close enough that Paige could feel her breath. Azzi was hand-checking again, her palm pressing lightly against Paige’s hip.
Paige huffed a laugh, pushing it off.
Azzi put it right back.
Paige knocked it away again, sweeping the ball low as she exploded into a right-handed dribble. Azzi followed immediately, but her defense had gotten… handsy. More than what regular defense allowed.
Not that Paige was about to complain.
She read Azzi’s movement, baiting her into thinking she’d pull up, hesitating just enough to freeze her. The second Azzi’s weight shifted, Paige was gone, blowing past her toward the rim.
Azzi recovered fast, but not fast enough.
Paige got the layup off clean, the ball rolling off her fingertips.
Breathless, she backpedaled, smirking at Azzi. “18-17.”
Azzi shook her head, laughing under her breath. “You really think you’re winning this?”
Paige just grinned. “Check up and find out.”
Just as they were about to check up again, the sound of the gym doors opening caught their attention. A few of their teammates strolled in, KK’s voice ringing out first.
“Why y’all didn’t tell us y’all were hooping?”
Azzi chuckled, shaking her head as she took the interruption as an opportunity to walk over to the sideline. She grabbed her water bottle, twisting the cap off and taking a swig. Paige followed her, still breathing a little heavy.
Azzi extended the bottle toward her without a word. Paige took it, their fingers brushing as she brought it to her lips, tilting her head back for a long sip.
“Y’all been going for a while, huh?” Ice said, nodding toward Paige’s discarded shirt and the clear sheen of sweat on both of them.
Paige wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smirking. “Just proving a point.”
KK raised a brow. “Who’s winning?”
Azzi shot Paige a sideways glance before she could answer. “We’re not done yet.”
KK laughed, shaking her head. “Well, y’all mind some company? Since you decided to sneak off this morning and not tell anybody.”
Azzi looked at Paige, wordlessly asking if she was cool with it. Paige shrugged, a small smile forming on her lips. “You sure you wanna get embarrassed, too?”
KK scoffed. “Man, check ball.”
The gym was alive with energy after that as KK, Ice, Paige, Azzi, Aubrey, and even Sarah played a game of queen of the court. They’d barely noticed how much time had passed—just caught up in the back-and-forth.
At some point, Ayanna and Jana showed up, making it a full-on team affair when they told everyone else to come, though not everyone was playing. Ayanna and Caroline were on the sidelines, watching, making sure they chime in here and there to instigate.
Paige and Azzi found themselves staying on the court for longer stretches, each one pushing the other in ways that only they could. Paige, who seemed to always have some energy stored away, was relentless, while Azzi—despite her competitive spirit—was starting to feel the weight of how long they’d been playing.
She gave one more glance at Paige, who was too focused to notice, and made the call to sit down for a bit.
She jogged over to Caroline and flopped onto the chair beside her, grabbing her water bottle and sighing in relief.
Azzi leaned back in her chair, her eyes following Paige as she moved around the court, effortlessly making shot after shot. There was something about the way Paige played that made it hard for Azzi to look away. It was just so smooth, so effortless, yet still entertaining. Her hair was in a low bun now, strands of it sticking to her forehead with the sweat glistening on her skin. Paige was completely in her element, her chain dangling over her chest with each movement, catching the light perfectly each time. The sight sent a jolt of heat through Azzi, and her mind wandered to a few things she’d rather not be thinking about in the middle of the gym.
Azzi crossed her legs, trying to shift her focus, but once she got started it was impossible. The way Paige moved, the sheer confidence and grace she exuded when she played—it was sexy in a way Azzi hadn’t figured out how to explain just yet. Her thoughts drifted back to last night when they got back from Ted’s, her body so close, the chain swinging over her face as Paige—her thoughts were interrupted by Caroline, who snapped her fingers in front of Azzi’s face a few times.
“Earth to Azzi,” Caroline said.
Azzi blinked, snapping out of her trance, her eyes meeting Caroline’s. “Hm?” she mumbled, trying to hide the flush creeping up her neck.
Caroline raised an eyebrow, her gaze following Azzi’s flicking over to Paige, who was still showing off on the court. “Checking her out again, huh?”
Azzi felt a nervous laugh bubble up, but she quickly cleared her throat. “No, I—No.”
Caroline laughed. “It’s kind of obvious, you know.”
Azzi mumbled, trying to brush it off, “No, it’s not.”
Caroline raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sure, whatever you say.”
She leaned back in her chair, her gaze flicking between Azzi and Paige, enjoying being able to tease her best friend. “I will say though, you’re not the only one enjoying the show,” Caroline said, her voice carrying some amusement.
Azzi’s attention snapped to Caroline, her eyebrows furrowing as she processed the words. “What do you mean?”
Caroline subtly nodded towards Q, and Azzi followed her line of sight. She saw Q, who was sitting off to the side on the floor. Her eyes were locked on Paige as she moved around the court. The intensity and intrigue in her gaze was clear as day and Azzi couldn’t help but chuckle when she saw it.
“Yeah, I noticed the other day,” Azzi replied, an amused grin forming as she looked at Q.
“So, you’re not gonna say anything?”
Azzi’s laugh that followed was lighthearted. “Nah, not really worried about that.” She said, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes.
Caroline tilted her head, watching Azzi for a moment before asking, “You think it’ll pass?”
Azzi shrugged nonchalantly, her gaze drifting back to Paige. “Haven’t really thought about it, honestly.” Any attention Azzi was paying to the conversation vanished when she looked back at Paige. Paige had just scored on Morgan, a smirk on her face as she chirped about nobody being able to guard her. Azzi couldn’t help but admire the ease with which Paige played, the way her confidence on the court seemed larger than anything in the world.
Paige caught Azzi’s eyes from on the court and smirked, a playful glint flashing in her blue eyes. Without looking away, she tossed the ball to Aubrey. “Alright, I’m done,” Paige said, walking off the court.
Some of the girls on the court playfully started celebrating, knowing they’d have more time on offense now. Paige strolled over to where Azzi was sitting, dropping down beside her with a sigh as she laid on the floor.
Azzi couldn’t help but smile, her eyes softening when she looked down at Paige. “You finally done?” she teased.
Paige groaned, letting her head rest on the floor. “Yeah, I’m tired,” she admitted, closing her eyes for a moment.
Azzi stayed quiet, simply watching Paige for a second. Paige’s skin was dripping with sweat at this point, her muscles were relaxed but still toned from playing. Azzi’s gaze wandered for a second longer, tracing the lines of Paige’s body.
Azzi smiled gently at how comfortable she looked. When Paige had first taken off her shirt in the locker room, she knew people would notice, but no one on the team had said anything. There was sort of a quiet, unspoken agreement that Paige would explain the scar if she wanted to—no pressure. Them doing that allowed Paige to feel comfortable enough to be shirtless around them, which was pretty often considering she just didn’t seem to like wearing shirts for some reason.
Azzi’s thoughts were interrupted when Paige broke the silence. “I won, by the way.”
Azzi immediately turned her head. “No, you didn’t.”
Paige smirked, throwing her arms behind her head. “It was 18-17.”
“Yeah, and it was win by two. So no, you didn’t win.”
Paige chuckled, leaning back onto the floor with her hands behind her head. “Whatever you say, Azzi.”
Just as they were about to settle into yet another back and forth, Caroline spoke up. “I realized something,” she said, a slight smile tugging at her lips. It was the kind of smile Azzi knew all too well—it meant Caroline was up to something.
Azzi groaned, already bracing herself. “What?”
Caroline’s eyes sparkled as she leaned in, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “We haven’t fully integrated Paige onto the team yet.”
At the mention of her name, the blue-eyed guard sat up, her attention now fully on Caroline. Before Azzi could stop her, Caroline shouted across the gym, “Truth or drink tonight in my suite!”
The other girls, scattered around the gym, stopped what they were doing. A few exchanged excited glances while others groaned. Caroline always had a way of turning truth or drink into a game that had everyone black out by the end of the night.
Paige looked at Azzi with a confused expression, raising her eyebrow. “Is this how you welcome people to the team?” she asked, leaning closer to Azzi.
Azzi shook her head. “This is a Caroline thing and a Caroline thing only.”
…
About an hour later Paige’s room was quiet except for the sound of pages turning and Paige’s steady breathing.
Azzi was propped up against the headboard, her back cushioned by pillows as she held a book in one hand, the other lazily combing through Paige’s hair. It was something she did absentmindedly, her fingers threading through the strands, tracing small patterns against Paige’s scalp.
Paige had barely made it five minutes after her shower before exhaustion took over. The moment she crawled between Azzi’s legs and rested her head against her stomach and thigh, she was out, her arms loosely wrapped around Azzi’s waist.
Azzi glanced down for a moment, her eyes softening at the sight of Paige curled up against her. She felt the rise and fall of Paige’s breathing against her, a small reminder of just how comfortable they had become with one another. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she turned another page, letting herself enjoy the quiet moment, knowing they wouldn’t have many like this once the season was in full swing.
For now, though, she just kept reading, her fingers still moving through Paige’s hair, the quietness and the warmth between them easing her into her own sense of calm.
A few minutes later, a knock at the door broke the quietness. Azzi hesitated, glancing down at Paige, who was fast asleep between her legs, arms wrapped around her waist. Paige had only thrown on a sports bra and sweats after showering, her body completely relaxed against Azzi’s. Azzi, in her short pajama shorts, suddenly became aware of how…compromising this looked.
She considered not answering, it wasn’t even her room, but the knock came again.
“Who is it?” she finally called out.
“Ice.”
Azzi exhaled, knowing Ice already had a pretty good idea about them at this point. “Come in.” She set her book down as the door opened.
Ice stepped inside, took one look at the scene in front of her, and smirked, crossing her arms. “Well, well, well.”
Azzi rolled her eyes. “Yes, Ice?”
“Well, I was about to ask Paige something, but I see that’s a lost cause.”
Azzi chuckled, glancing down at Paige, who was still dead to the world, her breathing slow. “Yeah, she’s out.”
Instead of leaving, Ice made herself comfortable, dropping onto the bean bag in the corner of the room. She stretched her legs out and looked at Azzi with curiosity. “So… how’d this actually happen?”
Azzi took a page out of Paige’s book and just shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ice leaned back in the bean bag, arms still crossed as she studied Azzi. After a beat, Ice arched her eyebrow, smirk still in place. “So, she just knocked out on you like that?”
Azzi barely looked up from where her fingers absentmindedly played with strands of Paige’s hair. “Yup.”
Ice scoffed, shifting in the bean bag. “Right… the same Paige that won’t let anyone on the team touch her outside of a high-five or a pat on the back?”
That got a laugh out of Azzi, her stomach moving with the motion. Paige groaned at the disturbance, burying herself deeper against Azzi as she tightened her grip around her waist. Azzi smiled down at her, rubbing slow circles against her back to soothe her before glancing back at Ice who had an amused look on her face.
“Yeah, that same Paige,” she mumbled.
Ice huffed dramatically. “Bro, when are y’all just gonna admit you have something going on?”
Azzi blinked at her, feigning confusion. “We do?”
Ice booed, grabbing a small pillow from the bean bag and throwing it at Azzi. Azzi moved, trying to bat it away, but instead, it hit Paige.
Paige grumbled in protest, shifting again but not fully waking up. She tightened her hold on Azzi’s waist, her face now completely buried between Azzi’s stomach and thighs.
Azzi shot Ice a glare. “Seriously?”
Ice held up her hands in surrender, but she was still grinning. “My bad, my bad.”
Paige mumbled something incoherent against Azzi’s skin, which sounded a lot like a “stop moving baby,” before settling again, completely unbothered.
Azzi sighed, shaking her head as she ran her fingers through Paige’s hair again, trying to keep her relaxed. “You’re lucky she’s too tired to care.”
Ice smirked. “Oh, I know. But don’t think you’re off the hook.” She tilted her head. “So, what were you saying?”
Azzi just smirked back. “I wasn’t saying anything Ice.”
Ice stood up, stretching slightly before smiling. “I think you forgot—we’re doing truth or drink tonight.”
Azzi tilted her head, the corner of her lips curling. “Hm. Should be fun then.”
Ice chuckled, shaking her head as she mumbled, “Sure will.”
She made her way to the door, casting one last glance at the two of them—Paige still completely wrapped around Azzi, sleeping peacefully, and Azzi looking more than comfortable with it. Ice mumbled something to herself before shutting the door behind her.
Azzi sighed softly, glancing down at Paige, who was still fast asleep.
“Truth or drink, huh?” she mumbled to herself.
…
Later that night the whole team was gathered in Caroline’s suite, sprawled out in a loose circle on the floor. Paige sat with her back leaned against the couch, her usual composed demeanor on display as she sipped from her red cup, though the positioning of those around her told a different story.
Azzi was comfortably settled on her left side, their proximity unmistakable—Paige’s arm was casually draped along the back of the couch behind Azzi, fingers occasionally brushing against her shoulder discreetly. On her right, Qadence sat, though there was a noticeable gap between them, one that subtly contrasted the ease Paige had with Azzi.
Everyone had shot cups in front of them, some of them opting for more casual drinks in red cups as well, their fingers lazily wrapped around them as they settled into the game. Ice was grinning like she had been waiting for this moment all day.
Caroline clapped her hands together. “Alright, y’all know the rules. Truth or drink. You answer honestly, or you take a shot. No skipping, no backing out.”
Azzi smirked, glancing at Paige. “You ready for this?”
Paige just chuckled, shaking her head. “Not at all.”
The game had started off light. The more seasoned players—Ice, Caroline, Aubrey, and KK—had eased the freshmen (Morgan, Allie, and Sarah) and newer members (Paige and Kaitlyn) into the game with safe, easy questions. Simple things like, What’s your guilty pleasure song? or What’s your favorite thing to do outside of basketball? Everyone laughed as Morgan admitted to blasting country music in her car when no one was around, and Allie’s favorite pastime turned out to be baking cookies while binge-watching crime documentaries. Kaitlyn joked about being “uncoordinated” when she first started playing basketball.
But as the group settled into their rhythm, it became clear that Caroline was ready to take things up a notch. She leaned forward with a grin, her eyes scanning the room as she clapped her hands together.
“Alright," she said, her voice filled with excitement. “Time to spice things up a little.”
Everyone exchanged glances, some of them smirking, others letting out nervous laughs as they felt the tension shift in the room.
Caroline started with Ayanna. “So, Yanna…you’ve been a little MIA at night lately. You wanna tell us where you’ve been going?”
Ayanna’s lip twitched as she smiled but without hesitation, she grabbed her shot glass, filled it to the brim, and downed it. She then chased it with whatever was in her red cup, leaning back on her hands. “What can I say?” Ayanna shrugged, “I like my space.”
The room buzzed with laughter as the others took turns asking questions that they knew would have someone taking a shot. Once Ice took her own shot she turned to Paige, her gaze settling on her with a smirk. “How many people have you slept with?”
Paige, though slightly surprised by the inquiry, didn’t flinch. Her response came quickly, “Seven.”
The room fell silent for a moment. Paige had never really hinted at anything regarding her relationship status or past, so her answer intrigued them all. Most of them were just curious to learn more about their teammate, get more ammo to tease her, but Azzi didn’t miss the way Q sat up a little at this information.
Paige, feeling the eyes on her, shrugged nonchalantly. Not knowing who to ask next, she turned her gaze to Caroline. “What about you?” she asked, looking for a little distraction.
Caroline grinned, answering the question with an easy “Five,” before turning the tables. Her eyes flicked over to Qadence, a smile spreading across her face. “Q, who's your crush?”
Azzi couldn’t help but snort at the question, knowing full well what Caroline was trying to do. Azzi’s eyes flicked over to Paige, who seemed momentarily confused by Azzi’s reaction. Azzi just shook her head, Paige raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it.
Meanwhile, Qadence, who was already a little flustered from being put on the spot, quickly reached for her shot. The alcohol burned as she swallowed, and she took a deep breath before scanning the group for her next target. Her eyes landed on Paige.
“Paige,” she started, hesitating only slightly before continuing, “when’s the last time you kissed someone?”
Paige’s lips parted slightly, as if considering whether or not she wanted to answer. Her fingers toyed with the shot glass in front of her before she finally poured herself a shot, lifting it in a silent response.
A mix of groans and cheers filled the room as Paige tossed it back, the liquor burning a familiar path down her throat. She didn’t even flinch, simply grabbing her red cup to chase it down with a sip of her vodka and juice.
Caroline was the first to break the silence, leaning in with a knowing grin. “Ohhh, so it must’ve been recent, huh?”
Paige just shrugged, setting the empty shot glass down with a casual clink. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Qadence narrowed her eyes. “That’s such a cop-out.”
Paige only smirked in response before saying, ”Somebody else ask a question.”
Caroline grinned at the invitation as she turned toward Azzi. “Alright, alright. Since Paige wants to be all mysterious, let’s spice it up. Azzi,” she challenged, “when’s the last time you slept with someone?”
The room went silent for a second as everyone processed the question, and a quiet snicker came from Ice. Paige bit the inside of her cheek to stop from smirking. Azzi arched an eyebrow at the question, taking her time as she leaned back further into the couch.
“Yesterday,” Azzi answered nonchalantly, her voice completely calm despite the waves of attention it immediately drew.
The reaction was instantaneous. The whole team erupted with questions, all talking over each other.
“What?!” Morgan exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief. “Who was it?”
“Wait, wait, wait—yesterday?” Aubrey yelled.
Caroline just smiled with a wide grin, clearly enjoying the chaos she’d sparked.
Paige was fighting to keep a straight face, her cheeks flushing slightly at how the conversation was unfolding. She glanced at Azzi, trying to gauge her reaction. Azzi remained cool, despite the attention. She smirked, clearly unbothered by the sudden influx of questions. “Next question.”
The game continued like usual, the alcohol loosening everyone up. Most of the team took continuous shots as they got more specific with their questions, digging into each other’s secrets. The laughter started to get louder, and occasionally someone would answer between all the boos.
When it came around to Paige again, Caroline leaned forward with a grin, clearly enjoying the opportunity to mess with her again. “Paige, when's the last time you slept with someone?”
The room went quiet, and all eyes turned to Paige, who chuckled. She knew there was no easy answer to that, and Azzi shot Caroline a quick glare, silently warning her. Paige filled her shot cup, downing it,, but her reluctance to answer questions like this didn’t go unnoticed. Suspicion hung in the air, and the team began to lean in a little closer, eager to get to the heart of the matter.
“Paige, come on,” Morgan said, “don’t be so mysterious. We know you have something going on.”
But Paige didn’t budge. She simply said, “Next question,” with a slight smile on her face.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. The moment she asked someone else a question, it was immediately thrown right back at her.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” KK asked.
Paige answered this one. “Yup.” Her response was quick, but it only seemed to fuel the growing curiosity.
“Where is she from?” Aubrey asked, and Paige took a shot this time. Each time Paige asked someone else a question they threw it right back at her. Everyone trying to figure out what she was hiding.
“How did you meet?” came the next question, followed by Paige taking yet another shot.
“Does she play basketball?” Sarah asked, and this time, Paige answered with a grin. “Yup.” It was the easiest question yet.
As Paige continued to drink the alcohol had her feeling a little more carefree, and she found herself laughing and joking with the team more freely. Her usual calm, guarded demeanor was slipping away as she playfully went back and forth with her teammates, teasing them just as much as they teased her every time someone asked her a question.
Caroline deciding to switch things up a little tossed the question Azzi’s way, a playful grin forming on her face. “So, Azzi, you seeing anyone these days?”
Azzi paused for just a moment as she thought about her next move.
She could answer truthfully.
But where was the fun in that?
Instead, she smirked, lifting a shot to her lips saying, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” before throwing it back.
Caroline raised an eyebrow with a smile tugging at her lips as she leaned back on her hands. Even though Caroline didn’t press for an answer, the rest of the team was now curious about Azzi’s lack of answer.
Paige, still sitting in her original position, shifted slightly. Her gaze looked around the room for a moment before turning her attention to Azzi. She leaned in close, her lips brushing Azzi’s ear as she whispered something no one else could hear. All eyes landed on the pair. Paige’s words were soft, too quiet for anyone to pick up, but Azzi’s smile widened at whatever was being said. Both of their actions were fueled by the alcohol in their system and the fact that most of the team had already pieced together that they were at minimum sleeping with each other.
As Paige pulled back, leaving Azzi with parting words, Azzi’s smile faltered slightly, her teeth catching her bottom lip instead. The others in the group couldn't help but watch in stunned silence, some eyes wide, others trying to piece together what they were witnessing.
Aubrey’s voice broke the quiet, it was a half-laugh, half-statement. “Ya’ll are definitely fucking.”
Ice, wanting to stir the pot and mess with Paige at the same time, leaned forward with a grin. "Paige, are you sleeping with Azzi?"
Paige smirked a glint of amusement flickering in her eyes. She grabbed the bottle of liquor, poured a hefty shot into her glass, and threw it back with ease. She followed it quickly with a swig from her red cup before she smiled at Ice.
Caroline, of course, couldn't resist chiming in. She glanced over at Azzi with a raised eyebrow. “Azzi care to comment?”
Azzi, leaning back in her seat, shook her head with a playful smile. "It’s not my turn to answer a question.".
Caroline wasn’t having it. “All in favor of Azzi answering?" she called out. Almost every hand shot up, almost all of them with eager grins. Azzi glanced around the room, her smile widening at the overwhelming response. She let out a small chuckle, clearly entertained by how quickly the team had caught on.
“Alright, alright,” Azzi relented with a dramatic sigh, pouring herself a hefty shot. Azzi too threw her shot back. Then, with a grin, she reached for Paige's red cup, taking a generous sip from it to chase the burn of the shot.
The room was full of snickers and raised eyebrows, everyone now fully invested in what was unfolding between Paige and Azzi..
As the game continued, they let off of them for a while, aiming for teammates who they thought weren’t drunk enough yet. Until Q, seemingly trying to figure out if it was casual or serious, says, “Paige, how long have you and Azzi been messing around?”
Paige leaned back and glanced at Azzi. She whispered to Azzi under her breath, “If I don’t answer, Imma be messed up. Can’t do another shot.”
Azzi, barely suppressing a smile, simply nodded. “It’s fine,” she replied softly.
With a sigh, Paige lifted her head again, then looked around at the group before answering. “November,” she said, the word slipping out easily enough, but the moment it did, the entire room seemed to erupt with cheers. Caroline and Ice, the only ones who didn’t seem completely shocked by finally getting an answer.
Aubrey, her eyes wide, looked between the two. “Y’all knew?”
“I did,” Caroline admitted, leaning back casually.
“I had my suspicions,” Ice said.
The room was filled with surprised laughter as the rest of the team processed the information. The game, at that point, took a brief pause as everyone let the new piece of the puzzle sink in and they all started talking amongst themselves.
Azzi chuckled, watching as Paige let her head fall back against the couch, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Azzi nudged her gently. “You good?”
Paige let out a soft mumble, barely moving. “I’m drunk.”
Azzi smirked, shifting closer and leaning her weight against Paige, her head resting lightly on her shoulder. “Me too,” she admitted. “Just a little bit.”
Paige, still slouched against the couch, cracked one eye open and turned her head slightly to look at Azzi, her lips quirking up in amusement.
“What?” Azzi asked, feeling Paige’s gaze on her.
“If I’m drunk, you’re definitely drunk.”
Azzi scoffed, sitting up just enough to look at Paige properly. “You took a few more shots than I did,” she argued.
Paige hummed, eyes twinkling as she tilted her head to look at Azzi. “Yeah, but you chased all of yours with my drink,” she pointed out.
Azzi blinked, then glanced at the red cup in her hand. “I thought it was only juice,” she muttered.
Paige shook her head, a grin tugging at her lips. “Vodka too.”
At this, Azzi’s eyes narrowed slightly, she reached over, softly pulling the cup from Paige’s grasp. “Yeah, you’re done.”
Paige just chuckled, letting her head tilt back against the couch again, her gaze trailing over Azzi in a way that didn’t go unnoticed. She licked her lips, her eyes hazy with something that had nothing to do with the alcohol.
Azzi sighed, shaking her head with a smile. “Don’t start.”
Paige’s smile widened slightly. “I didn’t even say anything.”
Azzi arched an eyebrow. “I know that look.”
Paige shrugged. “So?”
Azzi narrowed her eyes. “So no.”
Paige just smirked. “Yeah, alright.”
Azzi raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly to create some space. “You think I’m lying?”
Paige licked her lips again, before leaning in just a little closer, eliminating the space Azzi created. “Definitely.”
Azzi didn’t want to admit it—not out loud, at least—but Paige was right. Because the way Paige was looking at her right now, with that dark, lazy gaze, had her feeling warmer than she should. And with the drinks still settling into her system, that warmth was only spreading.
Azzi swallowed, shifting slightly. “You’re so full of yourself,” she muttered, trying to take Paige’s attention off of her.
Paige, deciding to push Azzi’s buttons a little, smirked before whispering, “You look good, baby.”
Azzi huffed, shaking her head at the sudden compliment. “Thank you.”
Paige’s smirk only grew. “I don’t look good?”
Azzi sighed, already seeing where this was going. “You always look good.”
Paige leaned in just slightly, eyes flickering to Azzi’s lips. “So tell me I look good then, mama.”
Azzi sucked in a breath, the name making her stomach flip. Paige only ever used it when they were having sex, most of the time it slipped out unintentionally. Having it paired with that look Paige was giving her, that smirk, it was dangerous.
Azzi shifted again, trying to keep her cool, but the way Paige was watching her—like she already knew she had her—made it damn near impossible. “You look good, baby,” she finally said, her voice quieter now.
Paige hummed, tilting her head. “How good?”
Azzi clenched her jaw slightly, feeling the warmth of the drinks settling in, mixing with the heat Paige was so effortlessly igniting in her.
“Paige.”
Paige licked her lips, closing the small space between them just a little more. “C’mon, mama. Be specific.”
Azzi let out a quiet breath, glancing away briefly in an attempt to collect herself. But when she looked back at Paige, she knew there was no getting out of this one.
“You look so good,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Too good.”
Paige’s smirk widened. “C’mere.”
Azzi swallowed hard, keeping her expression neutral despite the fire Paige was so effortlessly stoking inside her as she scooted closer.
Paige, still leaned back against the couch, let her lips hover dangerously close to Azzi’s ear. “I want you,” she whispered, like she wanted Azzi to feel every word.
Azzi exhaled sharply through her nose, tilting her head just slightly, pretending to stay relaxed even as her pulse betrayed her. She knew the team wasn’t paying too much attention to them right now, but she also knew Paige had no business talking to her like this in front of everyone.
“You’re drunk, baby,” Azzi whispered back, keeping her voice steady, even though her hands flexed slightly against her thighs.
Paige shrugged lazily, completely unbothered.
Azzi narrowed her eyes. “No not,” she murmured, mimicking Paige’s shrug.
Paige only smirked. “I’m sober enough to know what I’m tryna do to you.”
Azzi clenched her jaw, inhaling through her nose as she fought the urge to react.
“I know you’re warm for me Az,” Paige whispered.
Azzi bit her lip, shifting again, suddenly hyper aware of how her body was reacting.
“Can’t wait to have you mama,” Paige continued. “Imma have you screaming for me.”
At this point the alcohol was fueling the words falling off of Paige’s tongue. She meant every word she was saying, the alcohol simply making it easier for them to roll off her tongue in the middle of Caroline’s suite. Every word Paige whispered had Azzi’s control slipping.
Azzi felt her resolve cracking, her body leaning further into Paige before she could stop herself.
Slowly, Azzi turned her head, hovering just above Paige’s lips, ready to whisper something back—ready to give in just a little.
But before she could—
"Alright, y’all are way too comfortable now, take that shit somewhere else.” Ice’s voice cut through the tension, making Azzi freeze for half a second before she turned toward them, schooling her expression.
The whole team was watching. Some were smirking, some shaking their heads laughing, one of them wishing it was them.
Azzi exhaled, forcing a chuckle as she leaned back slightly. But Paige? Paige didn’t move.
Didn’t look away.
Didn’t even acknowledge the interruption.
Her eyes stayed locked on Azzi, gaze steady, amused—like she hadn’t just been caught whispering the filthiest things in her ear in front of their entire team.
Azzi opened her mouth to say something, but Paige was already moving.
With an easy confidence, Paige stood up, her fingers gently wrapping around Azzi’s wrist as she tugged her up with her. There was no hesitation, no explanation.
Azzi, still holding Paige’s basically empty red solo cup, glanced at it for a brief moment before tipping it back, downing the rest of whatever mix of juice and vodka was left. She set the cup down with a soft thud and turned back toward the group, throwing up a hand as she called out, “Bye”
The team barely had a chance to respond before Paige was already leading her out the door.
As soon as they stepped into Paige’s suite, the door barely clicking shut behind them, Paige was on Azzi. With a soft but insistent push, she pressed Azzi against the door, pressing her body flush against hers.
Paige’s warm and eager lips found Azzi’s neck, her teeth grazing over the sensitive skin before her tongue soothed the spot, leaving marks in her wake. Azzi let out a quiet whimper at the contact, her breath catching as if she’d been waiting—almost aching—for this.
Paige hummed at the sound, her hands settling on Azzi’s waist as she continued working her mouth against her neck, sucking lightly before dragging her teeth over the same spot, repeating this process all over her neck. Azzi shivered, threading her fingers through Paige’s hair, holding her close, wanting more.
Then, suddenly, Paige pulled back.
Azzi let out another soft whimper at the loss of contact, her grip tightening in Paige’s hair to pull her back in, but Paige didn’t move forward just yet. Her breath was warm against Azzi’s skin as she exhaled.
"You good, right beautiful?" The words were quiet, but the meaning was clear. Paige was checking in, making sure Azzi wasn’t too drunk, making sure they were on the same page.
Azzi swallowed, her heart pounding as she met Paige’s gaze. "I’m good," she nodded.
Almost immediately she feels Paige push inside of her. She doesn’t even know when Paige dipped her fingers inside her sweats, didn’t know when she pushed her underwear to the side. All Azzi knows is she feels Paige pumping her fingers in and out of her and she feels perfect.
Before Azzi even knew it, her head was falling back against the door, her breath hitching as something loud and unrestrained left her mouth. Paige just smiled at the sound, watching Azzi’s reaction with dark, hooded eyes. She looked so damn proud of herself, so in control.
Azzi felt like her soul was leaving her body, floating somewhere outside of herself, completely lost in the moment. But every time Paige curled her fingers—every brush of her lips, every press of her body—Azzi was yanked right back to reality, her senses drowning in Paige.
They had never been like this before.
So needy. So desperate.
So completely all over one another.
Paige had never been this dominant, never taken control like this, and it was making Azzi’s head spin. She could barely think, barely breathe.
Azzi surges forward, crashing their lips together in a messy, desperate kiss. She bites down on Paige’s lip, tugging slightly until Paige let out a low groan, parting her lips in surrender.
Azzi doesn’t hesitate when Paige grants her access, sliding her tongue into Paige’s mouth, deepening the kiss as Paige groans against her. It was all-consuming—hands gripping, bodies pressing closer, the taste of alcohol on each of their lips.
Paige easily slides another finger into Azzi causing her to let out another unrestrained sound, her head falling back against the door as Paige’s fingers bury themselves further into her. Azzi’s grip in Paige’s hair tightens, her breaths coming out in short, shaky exhales as she completely loses herself in the way Paige is fucking her against the door.
Paige watches her–really watches her. The way Azzi’s eyes are half-lidded and hazy, her jaw slightly slack, her lips parted like she’s trying to catch her breath. Paige smirks, licking her lips before leaning in near Azzi’s ear. “Fuck…you’re taking my finger’s like such a good girl baby.”
Azzi’s reaction is instant–a sharp inhale, a soft, needy sound slipping out before she can stop it. Paige immediately grins, her smirk widening because damn–Azzi likes shit like this.
And now that Paige knows, she isn’t about to let it go.
She brings her hand up to Azzi’s throat, wrapping her fingers around it just tight enough—not restricting, just enough for Azzi to feel it. Paige watches Azzi’s eyes flutter, her breath hitching as her body reacts, heat rolling off of her in waves. Paige tilts her head slightly, as she murmurs, “Oh, you like this shit, huh?”
Azzi's chest rises and falls with shallow breaths as she fights to keep herself grounded. Her eyes lock onto Paige's, her lips parted as she breathlessly responds, "I... I do." Her hands grip tighter in Paige's hair, tugging her closer as she leans into the pressure of Paige's touch, desperate for more.
Paige smirks at her reaction, clearly enjoying the power she has over Azzi. "Good," she breathes against Azzi’s neck. "Then work for it."
The words cause all thoughts to leave Azzi’s head as she starts grinding down on Paige’s hand. An almost pornographic moan escaping from her throat—she’s never been so grateful that her teammates were probably drunkenly passed out in Caroline’s room. Paige pushes into her with a little extra pressure, a little faster as Azzi follows her pace completely. Azzi’s able to keep the rhythm for a few seconds before her eyes are rolling back.
Paige sucks on her neck whispering, “Mmm that’s it baby. Keep working for it just like that mama.”
Azzi gasps as she says, “Oh my God…please.” There’s a pause before she’s whimpering again saying, “Fuck please baby.”
Paige murmurs against Azzi’s neck, “Please what.”
“Please I need it baby. I’m right there.”
At this request Paige is curling her fingers perfectly, mumbling incoherently at how good Azzi feels. But every word brings Azzi closer and makes her push harder against Paige.
“Paige, fuck. I’m right there baby. Fuck, please…please baby.” Azzi sounds almost desperate as the pleas leave her lips, Begging Paige to give her more, to let her come undone.
But then Paige is pulling her fingers completely out of Azzi causing her to whimper out, “please no.”
Paige chuckles as she gently shushes Azzi saying, “I got you baby, just hold on gimme a second.” She begins tugging Azzi toward her room. She walked backwards, a small smirk tugging at her lips. Her eyes never left Azzi. Watching with a quiet intensity as Azzi’s gaze flickered between dazed and hungry, every inch of her body on fire with anticipation.
Paige’s steps were measured, each one pulling them closer to the bedroom. She walked backwards, a small, smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Her eyes never left Azzi’s, watching with a quiet intensity as Azzi’s gaze flickered between dazed and hungry, every inch of her body aching with anticipation.
Something about Paige’s presence made everything feel charged, like the weight of the room had shifted. Her energy was commanding, but smooth, like she owned every inch of the space between them, her confidence practically radiating off her. It was a kind of energy from Paige that Azzi had never experienced to this extent before.
Paige's smirk grew as she felt Azzi’s gaze following her every movement. She leaned in, her voice just above a whisper but filled with the same confidence. “Come on, baby,” she murmured. She tugged gently at Azzi’s hand.
Azzi took another step forward, the space between them narrowing until she was almost pressed up against Paige as they walked. She could feel the pull, could feel her heart racing in her chest as Paige’s energy swirled around her.
This was different. This was different from anything they’d shared before.
When they get to the room, Paige gently pushes the door closed making sure she locks it. She gently tugs on Azzi again, pulling her completely against her.
Azzi expects to be led to the bed, but instead, Paige gently moves her toward the desk.
She gently bends Azzi forward, pressing Azzi’s chest against the surface of the desk. Azzi inhales sharply at the sensation, feeling her heart race as Paige’s presence wraps around her like a second skin.
The room feels smaller now. Azzi’s breath catches as Paige leans in, her lips close to Azzi’s ear. “Stay right there,” she whispers. Azzi’s body responds before she can even process the words, warmth pooling in her stomach.
Paige nudges her legs apart slightly before she’s pulling Azzi’s sweats down and getting on her knees, her hands resting on the back of Azzi’s thighs as she leans into her center.
The moment Paige connects her mouth to Azzi, she’s letting out a quiet moan.
Paige hums into Azzi as she lets her tongue move all over her, making sure she doesn’t miss an inch. She’s sucking and licking, pushing herself into Azzi, gripping on her thighs and Azzi feels like she’s about to fall apart.
Azzi feels the heat from her stomach rise to her chest, getting stuck in her throat as she lets out another whimper–the only sound she can muster as she rocks herself forward. Paige encourages the movement, humming against Azzi silently telling her to keep going. It doesn’t take long for Azzi to return to where she was just moments ago near the front door and her leg’s start to slightly tremble.
Paige notices it, and she immediately adds her finger to the mix, circling Azzi’s clit as she swipes her tongue across her completely.
Azzi let’s out a breathy moan, “Paige…P, please–”
Paige smirks as she mumbles against Azzi center saying, “I know, it’s ok baby you can let go. Lemme taste you.”
This is all it takes for Azzi to let out a loud cry as she releases on Paige’s face and Paige is lapping all of it up, like she’s desperate for Azzi, like it’s the best thing she’s ever had. The pleasure is crashing over Azzi over and over again and at one point she feels like she isn’t even on earth anymore as Paige cleans her up.
Even though Azzi finishes it doesn’t seem like Paige is going to stop anytime soon. Her mouth is still on Azzi, tongue still working all over her–just fast enough, just firm enough. Azzi thinks she sees stars when she squeezes her eyes shut, grasping at the desk for something to hold onto.
When Paige pushes her tongue back into Azzi she thinks it becomes a little too much, the warmth in Azzi’s stomach returning immediately. “Baby,” she whispers out, one of her hands reaching back to try to push Paige away. Paige immediately grabs her hand, trapping it with her own as she continues. Azzi whimpers saying, “I can’t…baby…it’s too much.”
Paige pulls back just enough to speak to Azzi saying, “C’mon baby I know you got one more for me. Please…you taste so good mama.”
Azzi’s breath catches when she hears the tone of Paige’s voice, when she hears her pleading to keep going. Azzi simply nods as she drops her cheek back to the desk as Paige immediately dives back down her mouth moving against Azzi again, perfectly swirling her tongue.
Azzi’s voice cracks as she whimpers out, “Fuck.” This time instead of reaching behind her to push Paige away she’s trying to push herself further into Paige’s face. In response Paige pulls Azzi closer leaning back just slightly to admire the wetness dripping down Azzi’s leg before she’s diving back in. Azzi’s eyes rolling back into her head as she lets out another moan.
Paige hums against Azzi whispering, “You sound so pretty Az.” The praise has Azzi whimpering again, her legs trembling as Paige brings her to the edge again. Her entire body feels like it’s on fire, she feels like her brain is going into overdrive, her nerves firing in every direction. Then Paige is speaking again saying, “Fuck I can’t believe you’re all mine.”
Azzi nearly sobs out, “Oh my fucking god,” at the words, at the feeling of Paige, her chest pressing harder against the desk as her back arches slightly. Paige doesn’t respond. She just hums against Azzi as she continues eating her, seemingly enjoying this more than the girl sprawled out over the desk.
Azzi’s second release catches her completely off guard. It shocks her entire system like a cold plunge and her entire body convulses, seeing white as her soul leaves her body, choked gasps escaping her lips.
Paige helps Azzi ride out her high, holding her up against the desk, cleaning her up completely as waves of pleasure continue crashing through Azzi’s body. When Paige pulls back Azzi is all over her face. Her nose and lips are wet, there’s liquid dripping down her chin and Paige looks like she just won the lottery with the way her eyes are sparkling.
Paige gently helps Azzi over to the bed, her hands lingering for a moment longer than necessary, as if savoring the way Azzi’s body reacts to every touch. She guides Azzi down slowly, making sure she’s comfortable before standing above her. The sight of Azzi lying there, all flushed and needy, makes Paige’s breath hitch just for a moment before she leans down, her lips capturing Azzi’s in a kiss that’s deep and slow. Azzi hums in response, her tongue swiping all over Paige’s lips as she tastes herself, sending more heat pooling in her stomach.
Paige pulls away after a long moment, her lips curling into a faint, smile as she whispers, “Take off your shirt, baby.”
Azzi doesn’t hesitate. She doesn’t need any more encouragement. She reaches up, her fingers trembling slightly as she pulls off her shirt and bra, her eyes never leaving Paige’s as she does. Paige watches her for a few moments, her gaze dark, before turning and walking toward her closet.
Azzi watches her, breathless, completely dazed and in awe at the way Paige is making her feel right now. Paige leans over in the closet rummaging for something for a second before she stands up.
When Paige stands up she says, “You wanna do something different, baby?”
Azzi’s heart skips a beat when she sees what is in Paige's hand, without a second thought, she almost breaks her neck with the speed of her nod, her body reacting before her mind can fully catch up. Her eyes are wide, glossy, reflecting the anticipation that’s swirling inside of her.
Paige watches the reaction with a sense of satisfaction, knowing that she’s already driving Azzi wild making her grin even more. She takes a slow step toward Azzi, her eyes not leaving her as she answers, “I thought you might like that.”
Paige unwraps the new packaging before ridding herself of her clothes. Each time she takes off a layer Azzi feels the anticipation growing in her stomach. Once all of her clothes are off, Paige just stands there for a moment, completely open in front of Azzi. Azzi watches the entire time completely in awe as Paige slowly puts the strap on, making sure everything is perfectly in place before she’s moving back toward Azzi.
Paige climbs back on the bed moving slowly, carefully, like she’s savoring each moment with Azzi. Their lips meet in a kiss that starts soft and tender but quickly grows messy, desperate. Their mouths find each other like it’s the only thing that matters, the rhythm of their kisses erratic as their bodies draw closer.
Paige eventually pulls away, her breath shaky as she looks down at Azzi, her thumb gently brushing over Azzi’s cheek. The softness of the touch contrasting with the intensity of the moment, and Paige’s voice is barely a whisper, heavy with a quiet concern. “You gonna be okay?”
Azzi’s eyes lock with hers, her breathing shallow as she nods up at Paige, the trust clear in her gaze. It’s enough for Paige to lean back down, her lips brushing Azzi’s a few more times before she pulls away again, her eyes filled with affection and an unspoken hunger.
Paige licks her lips slowly, eyes never leaving Azzi’s face. The thought of what comes next makes her pulse race, but she keeps her tone soft, controlled, as she adds, “Tell me if you need me to stop.”
The weight of her words lingers in the air, an unspoken promise that she’ll be attuned to Azzi’s every need, ready to pull back if needed.
Paige swipes it across Azzi a few times and Azzi who's still sensitive whimpers at the sensation. Then Paige is easing into Azzi, slowly. Paige only goes in enough to allow Azzi to adjust to the size. Azzi bites her lip at the feeling, her eyes fluttering slightly as she gets herself used to the stretch. Once she adjusts she nods up at Paige and Paige pushes in deeper, still not completely but enough to give Azzi a sense of how much she can take.
Azzi whimpers out a delicate sound as she looks up at Paige who’s studying her intently.
“You like it mama?” Paige asks as she looks at Azzi softly.
Azzi nods, reaching for Paige’s waist pulling her into her completely– moaning loudly at the feeling.
Paige’s breath catches when she does this, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s as she studies her with a mix of awe and desire. She takes in every detail—how Azzi’s chest is rising and falling, the way her lips are parted. Paige mumbles out, “Jesus, you’re so perfect.” As she says this she starts rolling her hips into Azzi. She starts off slow, being careful with every thrust initially, but when she sees the way Azzi is taking it, the way Azzi’s lips are parted as she looks up at Paige with hooded eyes she can’t help but to pick up her pace.
Azzi can’t help but whimper every time Paige pushes into her, her movements causing Azzi to naturally rock into her, only adding more to the feeling. Paige is completely spent as she watches Azzi and she can’t help but sing her praises. “Fuck you’re so incredible, baby,” she whispers, “feel so good...every inch of you, so perfect.” Azzi lets out a loud slew of loud moans in response, Paige’s voice always doing something to her body.
“You’re all I want, baby. Make me lose control... so fucking easily mama.” Paige continues, her voice a little raspy as she works in and out of Azzi, her hands on Azzi’s hips, keeping her still as she works into her. “I’ve never seen anyone like you. So beautiful, so fucking perfect... you drive me crazy.”
Azzi feels like she’s in heaven. She can’t even manage to find words as heat spreads through her body, her breath ragged. Everything Paige is doing right now feels perfect. Azzi feels like it’s too much and like she can’t get enough at the same time. Like Paige is too deep but not deep enough. Azzi reaches up, pulling Paige by the shoulders to bring her closer. “You feel so fucking good P,” she whimpers out, her voice breaking halfway through at the pace that Paige is going.
At the confirmation Paige only speeds up, as she works in and out perfectly, Like she knows exactly what Azzi needs, exactly how much her girl can take. The sound of Paige moving in and out of Azzi fills the room and Paige can only groan at the sound, knowing it’s all for her. “Damn baby, that shit is crazy. You hear that?”
All Azzi can do is nod as her nails dig deeper into Paige’s sides.
Paige keeps talking, the words leaving her mouth naturally. Like she’s been waiting to have Azzi like this. Paige smiles against Azzi's skin before mumbling, “This shit’s all mine Azzi.” She leans down again, kissing Azzi's neck as she savors the sound of Azzi's breathy whimpers near her ear.
Azzi's hands tremble as they grip Paige’s skin, her breath shallow and quick. "I'm all yours," she says with a strong sense of submission, her voice shaky but filled with certainty. "Only yours baby."
Paige licks her lips at the admission, her pupils completely blown as she rocks into Azzi. She slides her hand in between them two of her fingers finding Azzi’s bud as she begins circling her fingers in rhythm with her movements.
This addition has Azzi screaming out a moan her body bucking into Paige as she squeezes her tighter, “Fuck Paige, Oh my God you’re amazing.”
Paige whispers in Azzi’s ear, “I want you to finish for me baby. I wanna see you shake for me, pretty girl.”
Paige’s voice is enough to send Azzi over the edge and for the third time that night she’s coming undone. This one feels impossibly better, her legs wrap around Paige’s waist to pull her deeper as she shakes underneath her, her vision blurring as she lets out a series of unrestrained moans, screaming Paige’s name for any and everybody to hear.
Paige doesn’t stop, she only slows her movements making sure she lets Azzi feel every bit of pleasure she possibly can as she whimpers under her. When Azzi’s breath subsides slightly Paige is pulling out and flipping her over and fuck Azzi feels like she’s about to pass out when Paige slides back into her.
Azzi looks back at Paige whispering, “I can’t do anymore baby.”
Paige, who is still breathing heavily, licks her lips as she looks at Azzi. Usually she wouldn’t hesitate to listen to Azzi’s words, she would be sliding out immediately. But she doesn’t miss the way Azzi slightly pushes herself further onto the strap, the way she sighs at the feeling. So Paige smirks saying, “Lemme get one more beautiful.” Then Paige is chuckling because Azzi immediately nods as she arches further into Paige.
Paige knows Azzi won’t last long so she savors the sight. Azzi’s chest pressed into her mattress, her back arched—it’s all so perfect, Azzi’s perfect. She begins pushing herself into her. In this new position she’s pulling out completely before pushing back in, admiring the view each time.
Once she gets a nice rhythm she reaches forward, tangling her fingers in Azzi’s curly hair and tugging just slightly. Azzi immediately lets out a whimper and Paige smirks saying “You want me to pull it?”
Azzi whimpers out, “Please.”
Paige obliges, tugging Aziz’s hair with a little more aggression as she picks up the pace of her hips. At this point Azzi is already close, her jaw is slack and she can’t bring herself to make any sounds, just feel the way Paige is pushing into like nothing else matters.
Azzi never knew how much she liked rough sex before this moment. She loved how Paige hadn’t given her an inch to make a decision—the moment they walked into the door, Paige was on her, doing what she wanted to her. She gets so lost in the feelings, in the way Paige is hitting something deep inside her over and over that she sobs out a broken, “Fuck I love you baby…please don’t stop.”
Paige catches this and she feels like her chest is about to explode. Paige licks her lips, her fingers tightening in Azzi’s hair as she tugs harder, pulling Azzi up towards her slightly. “You love me, pretty girl?”
Azzi’s breath was ragged, her throat dry as she nodded, her body betraying the warmth of her confession. It was a truth she hadn’t meant to say out loud—not like this, not with the world spinning around them, but it was there now.
Paige’s grip tightened. “Show me,” she whispered, her tone a velvet demand that sent a shiver down Azzi’s spine. “Put on a fucking show for me, Az. Show me how much you love me mama.”
It’s like the words ignite something in Azzi as she starts throwing herself back against Paige, her eyes watering at the feeling. Paige throws her head back at the feeling of the harness pressing against her. “Shit baby, just like that. Feels so fucking good,” Paige mumbles out as the tension in her stomach grows.
Azzi keeps going, her pace relentless as she holds off on her own release knowing Paige is close.
Paige decides to meet Azzi’s pace with her own thrust causing both of them to be a moaning mess, both of them letting out incoherent words and desperate sounds as they meet one another. Paige mumbles out, “Fuck I love you Az. I’m bouta cum baby. Keep going for me please baby.”
All it takes is one more push from Azzi before they’re both coming undone together. A mess filling the sheets as they ride out their high.
After a few seconds Paige slumps next to Azzi, both of them completely spent, their bodies still buzzing with the remnants of everything that had just unfolded between them. The room was still, the only sound filling the space was their heavy breathing, both of them trying to catch their breath. Azzi felt like her body had turned to jelly, every muscle was heavy and warm, while Paige felt like she’d just run a marathon. There was a peaceful stillness between them, a quiet that had settled in, as they both tried to regain their bearings.
With their eyes still closed, Azzi spoke first. “That was different,” she said, her words a bit breathless, a slight tremor still in her voice.
Paige chuckled lightly, her chest still rising and falling with each deep breath. “Yeah, I know.” She didn’t even need to see Azzi’s face to know she licked it.
Azzi nodded, though Paige couldn’t see it. “I liked it,” she admitted..
Paige’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile. “Yeah?” she asked, her tone teasing but affectionate.
Azzi nodded again. “Yeah,” she repeated, feeling her heart race as she lay there in the quiet, her chest feeling tight from the confession she hadn’t quite intended to make.
The silence hung in the air between them for a moment, the silence was peaceful, but it didn’t last long before Azzi spoke again, her words more hesitant this time.
“I didn’t mean for that to come out like that,” she murmured, feeling a small wave of insecurity wash over her, unsure if the words she’d let slip were too much, too soon.
Paige turned her head toward Azzi, even though neither of them were looking at each other. She reached out, her hand finding Azzi’s, her fingers lacing together.
“Neither did I,” Paige murmured, her voice low,
She paused, gathering her thoughts, feeling the weight of her own admission. After a beat, she whispered, “I meant it though, Az.”
Azzi’s breath caught at the sincerity in Paige’s voice. She slowly opened her eyes, her heart pounding as she processed the words. For a moment, everything felt suspended in time. She reached over, her hand gentle as she rubbed Paige’s cheek with her thumb, savoring the softness of her skin. Her thumb moved higher, trailing over the scar near Paige’s hairline, something so familiar, something that had always been there. Azzi traced it slowly, memorizing the curve of it, the way it marked Paige in a way that was all her own.
Azzi’s voice was barely above a whisper, the words slipping out like a secret she couldn’t keep any longer. “I love you, Paige.”
Paige’s chest tightened at the confession. Her heart raced, and before she even realized it, her eyes opened to meet Azzi’s. Paige’s blue eyes searched Azzi’s brown ones, filled with something deeper than she had ever realized before. A smile tugged at the corner of Paige’s lips as she replied softly. “I love you.”
Azzi leaned down to kiss Paige softly, her lips pressing gently against hers, savoring the moment, committing it to memory. When she pulled back, her smile was tender, but then her gaze shifted to the sheets beneath them and she realized just how damp they were.
"We're not sleeping in here," Azzi mumbled,
Paige chuckled, her lips curling into a grin. "Figured."
The two of them carefully climbed out of bed, Paige removing the harness. They quickly agreed to take a quick shower in Paige's room before heading over to Azzi’s. The water was warm and soothing, washing away the remnants of their night as Azzi completely leaned against Paige, not able to fully stand on her own. They didn’t speak much in the shower, just sharing soft glances and quiet smiles as Paige cleaned both of them.
Once they were done they both threw on sweats and a hoodie. Azzi jumped on Paige’s back and Paige carried her a few doors down to her room, both of them giggling along the way. When they entered Azzi's room, they both let out a quiet breath of relief, sinking into the softness of the bed once they tugged off the hoodies.
Paige pulled Azzi against her chest, her arms wrapping around her tightly, holding her like she never wanted to let go. Azzi snuggled closer, breathing in Paige’s scent, her head resting against Paige's chest as she whispered softly, “I love you.”
Paige smiled softly at this as she pressed a soft kiss to the top of Azzi’s head, her voice barely a murmur. “I love you more, beautiful.”
With that, Paige felt a sense of peace wash over her, her mind quieting and her chest light, like all of the weight she’d been carrying for years had simply melted away at the words. Her eyes fluttered closed, and soon enough, she easily drifted into a deep sleep, the warmth of Azzi in her arms filling her with a sense of calm and contentment she had never known before.
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when wag!reader tells basketballplayer!drew that she's going out, he wants to see her outfit, which quickly turns into more than just a quick showing . . . . .
warnings/notes: mutual masturbation kinda, phone sex, lots of teasing, drew being controlling ?, this is moreso the build up of it all, rather than the actual mutual masturbation (the build up is so much hotter imo ...) and kind of cut off at the end srryyy buuuuut hope you enjoy <3 ALSO i’m trying out something new, where i add tumblr links to show !readers’ outfit, pls lmk if you like <3
you told drew you were going out tonight, the first thing he said to that was ‘facetime me.’ via imessage. you thought maybe he outgrew his possessive phase of the relationship, but you were slowly learning that it was just a part of him. even though he told you to facetime him, he beat you to it. “jesus christ.” you mumbled to yourself before hitting ‘join call’.
“you’re still doing this?” you set your phone down on your vanity, taking a few steps back so drew could see your whole outfit, despite complaining you still complied. part of you grew hot and heavy over drew getting so possessive.
drew noticed the small things about your outfit. not the details a normal guy would; the intentional picking of your earrings or necklace, or how some nights you’d wear sluttier outfits if you and him argued a few days before. “what’s with the big jacket?” he questioned. “what? you don’t like it? you bought it for me.” you looked at yourself through the facetime call, possibly second guessing your fashion choices.
“no it’s cute. just wonderin’. spin.” drew demanded. the way he was staring so intently at the screen made you a little scared, like you might be getting in trouble for what he’s about to see. “what the fuck y/n. why is your whole ass out? jesus christ.” he snatched his phone from wherever it was stood up, you assumed he must have had his teammates around him. you rolled your eyes. “when is it not out?”
“yeah but it’s like really out today.” you watched drew get up from wherever he was sat. and wherever he went he closed the door behind him. “i’m in the bathroom.” he whispered. “okay?” you said confused, but also knowing exactly what direction this facetime was headed. “do a lil spin for me again.” drew smirked at the screen.
“are you fucking serious?” you held back a giggle. “cmonnn, don’t tease me.” drew pleaded with you. you gave in because he looked so fucking good. his basketball hat and mustache just calling your name through the screen.
you did as drew said, giving a him a lil spin, and even forcing your jean skirt up ever higher, which honestly didn’t seem possible given how high it already was. “fuck baby. you’re so fucking fine.” drew’s head fell back. you really didn’t know what you did to him, you had no idea actually, and he didn’t think that lightly. “what panties you wearin’?” drew touched over the growing bulge in his pants.
“the ones you bought me.” you said, referring to the black and pink thong he bought you just a week before. “lemme see baby.” god he was going fucking crazy. facetiming his girl in his teammates house about to jerk his shit to the mere look of you in your outfit? this might have been a new low for him.
you bent over for drew, giving your ass a little shake for him. you giggled to yourself before grabbing your phone off your vanity and running over to your bed and saying “okay my turn! bicep time!”
“really?” drew chuckled, he never understood why you liked his biceps so much, but nonetheless he flexed his arms for you in the bathroom mirror. you were lucky because today he was even willing to take off his shirt, you got to see it all; his big arms, his beefy shoulders, and his toned stomach. god, you wish you could just ride his stomach. but unfortunately you remembered you were literally on the phone. “you’re so fucking hot. wanna ride your stomach and grab your big arms.” you moaned out, not even realizing that your hand was on your clit, rubbing circles.
“yeah? what else baby?” drew groaned. you both got too lost in moment to realize you were talking each other through it … on the phone.
after you both came (in every sense of the word) to your senses, you both got kind of quiet. “okay well. bye.” you started reading for the red button. “change your out-” you cut drew off before he could finish.
#⊹₊ works ⋆#⊹₊ fics ⋆#꒰ ⊹ basketballplayer!drew ♡#꒰ ⌗wag!reader ♡ ꒱#drew starkey#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey headcanons
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Punish me.
Pairing: Boss!Joel Miller x f!reader Rating: +18, NSFW, MDNI Words count: 5853
Summary: What happens when your boss punishes you but you like it too much? You look for more. And more. Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of Y/N, legal unspecified age gap, power imbalance, dom!Joel / sub!reader, degradation, oral (m receiving), spanking, unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but still, do better irl), initially dub-con but reader is very into it, risk of being caught, a little chocking if you squint, cream pie, squirting, reader has no description other than the clothes she is wearing, manipulation, slurs, pet names, reader calls Joel "Sir". This Joel is low-key inspired by Don Draper from Mad Men and the whole thing was also low-key inspired by Secretary (2002). Let me know if I forgot something important, I will add it right away. A/N: Written for Never Have I Ever challenge hosted by the lovely @yxtkiwiyxt , this was my prompt and I had so much fun working on it! Thanks for giving me the opportunity to join! 🥰 Thanks to @aurorawritestoescape for being the most precious beta and @joelmillerisapunk for being the best support I could ask for and for letting me yap about it for a month and half lol I love you so much 🥹❤️ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any. Thanks to anyone who will read! masterlist | Joel Miller masterlist
“Mr Miller wants to see you in his office at 3” When Pam called you to say that a shiver ran down your spine.
Your last client was the owner of a large brewing company, a self-centered rich asshole that you couldn’t stomach in any way.
He had been pressing you for weeks for you to come up with the most sexist and stupidest ad campaign ever, all while you were trying to present him with new ideas that didn't necessarily include 10 women in bikinis at the feet of one man or other such things that had been done 200 times already .
You hated the guy with every fiber of your being and you told him exactly what you were thinking about him when he called you a prude and argued that he could show you what a real man was.
Seeing his sleezy smile as he winked at you and told you that you needed to fuck more was your last straw.
You were glad to be rid of him but you knew well that your boss would not have the same opinion.
Right out of college what you wanted was to learn the profession as soon as possible, and you wanted to learn it from the best in the business.
Joel Miller owned the most famous advertising agency in town, so you did everything to get an internship there.
You understood why he was so successful from day one.
__________________________________
Pam was sitting at her desk as usual when you walked in.
Her desk was a few feet from the door of Mr. Miller's office.
A large, black, solid wooden door with a fine frame, one of those that seemed to lead to the rooms forbidden to poor commoners.
She just looked up from the computer screen to tell you to come in, Mr. Miller was waiting for you, and then she was back to work.
Pam was a woman in her 60s, blond hair perpetually pulled back in an elegant bun, a pearl necklace around her neck, cachemire sweaters in all pastel colors, silk blouses and matching skirts.
She looked very neat, austere, you could swear you never saw her smile but heck, she was really good at her job and had been managing Mr. Miller's impossible schedule for many years.
You knocked on the door feeling your heart in your throat, thinking you were one step away from being fired.
Joel's voice bounced through the door, heavy and raspy, "come in.”
You entered trying to maintain a composure.
“Good morning, Mr Miller, you wanted to see me?”
He put down the papers he was perusing on the desk and looked up at you.
“Oh, it's you,” he said in a very calm voice. “The one who made me lose a lot of money.”
“I...I'm sorry but the guy was too much of an asshole for me to take it,” you spat out.
You knew Joel appreciated people who were standing their ground.
“Excuse me, should I care? You just made a thousand dollar check disappear.”
The silence that enveloped the room was unreal.
You stood in front of his stately mahogany desk, trying to keep your back straight and your shoulders high.
Of course, he didn’t care, he was an asshole too.
________________________________
He had conducted the interviews personally, without delegating it to his subordinates.
He hired you himself, without missing the opportunity to intimidate you in the meantime.
The first day you had come in you were shy, awkward, afraid of your own shadow.
How did you think you could deliver a presentation in front of a client if you looked like a frightened little bird that had just fallen out of the nest?
Joel said he took a risk hiring you, the least you could do was to show him how much you really wanted the job.
Eventually you learned to fight.
It hadn't been pleasant or even easy, Joel wouldn't let you get away with anything, criticized your every idea, sometimes blatantly mocked you.
He had pushed you to work harder than you would have imagined and you were eager to let him know that you were worth something, that you were not just an honors graduate but could translate your knowledge into the practical field.
You also owed it to yourself.
Your parents supported you but had always told you that you were not the type to work in advertising.
Too kind, too quiet, too sweet.
“Honey, are you sure? Wouldn't you rather do some other job?” your mother always asked you.
No, you didn't want to do anything else. And you were going to prove it to everybody.
You became a sucker for Joel’s attention in no time.
Whatever type he wanted to give to you.
As you progressed and learned, he became gentler, too much so at times.
Grazing your knee under the table at meetings, touching your waist way too much as you walked down the hallways talking about some projects, playfully slapping your ass once, after successfully signing your first contract with a client.
It was becoming a relationship that other colleagues didn't have to notice.
He was your mentor, your inspiration, the person who had taken you under his wing and taught you to fly.
Along with the desire to do well, however, something else grew in you over time.
Arousal, desire, need.
It lingered in the air while you were trying to flap your wings and stay aloft.
_______________________________
“Furthermore…” his voice dropped and deepened, “we don’t tolerate this kind of language here.”
A shiver ran down your spine at the clear change in his voice.
You knew what he was doing.
And you liked it.
“Well, I’m sorry but there’s no other appropriate word to describe that person” you chirped.
You didn’t drop the asshole just to have this, you really hated the man with all you had, this was just a pleasant collateral damage.
Joel being angry at you.
Joel who wanted to punish you.
He ran a hand over his mustache, looking at you as if he wanted to devour you.
You felt your clit throb in anticipation.
He stood up from his chair, he was imposing, broad shoulders and awe-inspiring piercing eyes.
“Let me explain it to you properly. I don't care if he didn't meet your moral dictates, I don't give a damn if he was so obnoxious that he made you sick to your stomach, okay?” his voice was a thin, cold, steady blade.
“Yes, Mr. Miller” you swallowed, without breaking eye contact. “You acted like a whiny child,” he stated. “ And you made me lose a ton of money”
His heavy step creaked faintly on the fine parquet floor. He was towering over you.
“Yeah, you said that already,” you rolled your eyes.
You would have sworn you were hearing Joel’s blood simmering in his veins and that was exactly what you wanted.
“Do you think criminal lawyers like to defend murderers? Do you think they like their clients?”
“No,” you muttered
“Yeah, they don’t like them but they do it anyway because it's their job.”
That was a little extreme example but he did make a point.
You were torn.
Disappointing your mentor was the last thing you wanted but seeing him like that, ready to give you a lesson was making you horny like nothing else.
You craved it.
“Do you know what they used to do to wayward children like you?”
You could feel the warmth of his body with how close he had gotten.
“Yeah.”
His eyes looked like onyx stones.
“Say it.” “They spanked them,” you finally let out.
“Yeah. You’re goddamn right, darling. They spanked them.” His words were a sheet of ice on which you couldn't wait to slide.
“Bend over the desk.”
“No,” you tried to argue.
“I. Said. Bend.” He ordered, punctuating every word.
You raised an eyebrow, glaring at him, but finally gave in.
You approached the desk, rested your elbows on it and jostled your ass out, poised on your heels.
He positioned himself behind you, you turned to look at him, and he immediately hissed,
"Eyes to the wall, missy."
You huffed, returning your gaze to the large painting hanging behind the desk.
His hands slid down your legs.
It was the first time he touched you, the first time you felt his strong grip on your body, the first time his warmth penetrated your flesh.
“You really disappointed me today.” His voice was calm, low, but full of disgruntlement.
“I'm sorry,” you whispered.
“It's not enough,”
His hands had reached the hem of your skirt, raising it dangerously, pulling it up, exposing the edge of your thigh-high stockings and your panties.
“Do you still think you deserve a place in this agency?”
Panic welled up inside you, you felt your cheeks on fire and your hands trembling on the wood of the desk.
You didn't want to lose everything you had worked for.
Joel wouldn't sign any reference letters for you, you wouldn't get a job at any other agency, and your career would be over before it even started.
You remained stubbornly silent, trying not to be seen as weak, until he blurted out,
“answer me.”
“Yes. I made a mistake.”
“You’re goddamn right, honey,” he replied wryly.”How will you fix this?”
That honey sounded like a mockery. Like you were still too soft to do the job and be successful at it.
You hated it and it made your pussy throb at the same time.
“I will find a way, Mr. Miller.”
“We’ll see” he retorted “But you still deserve punishment, don't you think?”
“Yes,” you breathed reluctantly.
You didn’t like to admit that but you couldn’t stop yourself.
You wanted it too much.
You wanted him too much.
You didn’t hear him fumbling with his pants, no zippers coming undone, no buttons slipping through the buttonhole.
You just felt his breath fanning over your back and his hand gripping at your hips.
You felt his gaze seeping into your flesh.
You would have liked to turn around, tell him to get it over with and fuck you, but you didn’t.
You stood still in your turn, feeling the tension bubbling in your chest while he seemed so calm and collected.
He was taking his time with you.
You sighed, just before you felt the air shift behind you and his hand landed deafly on your ass.
You gasped.
Another slap had hit you.
Harder than before.
Pain spread all over your butt, tingling, until it turned into a destabilizing pleasure.
You had never done anything like that before and as disconcerting as it was to admit it, you liked it.
You liked it like crazy.
You felt a slick of arousal wetting your panties while you moaned.
“Do you want some more?”
You nodded eagerly.
“Oh. You gotta use your word, I feel like I taught you that, right?” He tutted.
“Yes.” You whispered “please”
Instead of continuing, he walked over to the bar cabinet, poured himself a couple of fingers of whiskey into a glass, sat back down on his leather chair and looked you in the eyes.
“Get out of here.”
You stood there watching him, hunched over his desk, wood still pressing on your clothed tits, feeling like you were in a fever dream.
Had it really happened?
The heat still throbbing on your ass cheek told you it had.
You stood up, straightened your skirt, your darting gaze metaphorically stabbing him.
He had humiliated you.
How had you let this happen? And most of all, why did you want more?
You left without looking back.
Pam wasn't at the desk when you left, you slipped out as quickly as possible, with one fixed thought in mind.
______________
The next few days he ignored you. He started following another girl who had just arrived and he was behaving the way he had with you.
Jealousy had never been a vice of yours. Never. But seeing him chuckle at her jokes, praise her for her efforts, smile at her, start calling her by her name like he had done with you made you furious.
It squeezed your chest in a cruel fist.
You had worked on the presentation for a market-leading make-up client, and fortunately for you, the CEO had been enthusiastic about your ideas.
You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of letting him know how much he was hurting you but despite the persistence with which you tried, you grew so hungry for him that all you were thinking about was finding a way to make him furious again.
To get punished again. You hated having fallen for his game, but by now you were a fish seeking oxygen in the mesh of the fishing net.
You were trying to get his attention in every way without success.
At the peak of your desperation, you had passed an embarrassing number of times in front of his office in the hope that he would come out.
You kept meeting only Pam bringing coffee, folders or Joel's personal correspondence.
After a week she no longer seemed surprised to find you there, there was a kind of understanding in her gaze, a muted feminine solidarity, an ill-concealed displeasure.
“Honey, why do you do this to yourself?” she seemed to say.
You didn’t care. Your pussy didn’t care either.
______________
One day, when you saw Pam pass in the hallways during the lunch break, you decided to do something.
You couldn’t take it anymore.
You had gotten up deliberately exclaiming, “Oh, I really need a coffee!” And you had pretended to head for the common room. At last you had turned the opposite corner and snuck into the hallway that led to Joel's office. You had to hurry.
You slipped inside in an instant and found yourself in front of the imposing door that led to the office of the object of your desires.
He was talking to someone on the phone, you could clearly hear his voice but none in response.
When he finished, you opened the door and entered, full of doubts and fears but the same moved by a disruptive urge you couldn't say no to.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Joel's rough voice greeted you. “I came to see my mentor,” you whispered. ”And to tell him that tomorrow we will sign the contract with the make-up company.”
You smiled, waiting for his reaction.
He demolished you immediately in response,
“So? What do you want, a golden star? A kiss on the forehead?”
He raised an eyebrow mockingly staring at you.
“No, I just wanted to let you know,” you countered in a voice far too resentful for your taste.
You were turning on your heels to leave when you heard his voice say,
“What is the real reason you are here?”
You turned again and looked at him.
Elbows rested on the desk, the sleeves of the white shirt he wore rolled up to leave his muscular forearms exposed, rolling the platinum ring he wore on his middle finger around, his straight shoulders wrapped in the fabric that seemed to contain his broadness with difficulty, the first few buttons left open giving you a glimpse of a few freckles on his bronze chest.
The posture of the boss judging you, sitting comfortably in his leather chair, a smirk plastered on his face, a defiant expression in his eyes.
He was both sultry and irritating.
You wanted to slap him but also take off your panties and sit on his cock.
To be honest, you wanted to do both at the same time.
“You walked in here without asking Pam,” he noted amusedly, looking at you as if he could read your mind “What were you trying to do?” “Nothing,” you lied, fidgeting with a button on your shirt. “Just my job”
“I think you were trying to get on my nerves,” he suggested
You scoffed “You think you’re the center of my universe?”
“You’re the one in my office right now. Say what you want. Or leave. But I think you want to stay, am I right? Your pussy wants it.”
You were speechless, totally caught off guard.
“What do you need, darling?” He urged you, walking towards you.
He raised a hand reaching for your cheek, brushing it with his thumb.
His voice softened slightly, the knot in your stomach tightened.
It felt manipulative.
But also arousing when he gently pulled your lower lip open and grazed it with the pads of his fingers.
He grabbed your chin and tilted your head to face him.
His gaze was authoritative, demanding but also sweet, like he was trying to get you convinced that he was a good guy, just eager to give you something you wanted so much that you showed up uninvited to his office.
“Punish me,” you breathed as he was sliding his fingers down your neck.
“See? It wasn’t so difficult. This was all I needed to know,” he chuckled softly, right after grabbing you by the waist, gentleness instantly out of the menu, pulling up your skirt to expose your ass.
“You want me to spank you again, am I right?”
Your voice came out husky and broken, you only managed to mumble a “yes”, the most desperate yes you’ve ever said in your life.
“That's what I was thinking,” he groaned
His hands were roaming your thighs “Hold-ups. Of course. You’re the target for that Agent Provocateur campaign we launched last month, aren't you?”
You would have laughed if you could but you felt his fingers graze the wet, sticky stain spreading across your panties and you gasped instead.
And then his hand crushed on your ass cheek, his ring marked your skin, pain spreading across your skin, immediately replaced by an unbearable heat.
It made you feel alive.
You had his attention again.
One, two, three spanks burned your flesh, you could clearly feel a trickle of pleasure flowing out of you.
“How dare you come into my office just to provoke me? Don’t you know who I am? Huh, little slut?”
“Yes,” you muttered. “yes Mr Miller but…”
You had started this, you would have liked to say.
You were the one flirting first.
You were the one leading me to want you, this, always.
Another slap hit you and you said nothing instead. You just moaned.
A knock on the door stopped Joel in his tracks.
He froze with his hand high up in the air.
“Who is it?” He asked nervously.
He still held you tightly by the waist, you tried to wriggle free from his grip without success.
“It’s Pam,” her voice came muffled from outside the door.
“Fuck” you whispered, you instantly looked around in panic for a place to hide.
Not the bookcase, or the bar cabinet or the nice leather couch and armchair that were placed in front of it.
There was only one option.
“Get off of me,” you hissed “now!”
Joel let go of you and you quickly cowered under the desk.
He sat down and spread his legs just enough to give you room as he moved his chair as close to the edge as he could.
“Come in” he ordered, trying to regain his composure.
Pam cracked the door open and entered the office.
You couldn’t see her but you could hear her light footsteps approaching the desk and her voice saying “I brought Mrs. Jones’ presentation that you wanted to review, Mr. Miller”
“Oh. Thanks Pam”
You could clearly hear the underlying nervousness in Joel’s voice and it was starting to make you laugh.
You decided that since he was playing dirty you would do the same.
Your hand slowly moved up his pants, grazing his ankle, then his shin, up his thigh, until it reached his crotch.
Joel was desperately trying to hide his squirming as he examined the work of his new protégé. The one he was trying to replace you with.
It was delicious to feel him like that, helpless, harmless for once, totally at your mercy as you moved your hand up and down over his clothed cock that was desperately straining against the zipper.
Pam didn't move, waiting for him to finish evaluating the project, only her regular breathing told you of her presence.
You liked the risk, the thrill of being discovered that ran under your skin.
You could do more.
Slowly, your fingers closed on the metal tag of Joel’s zipper.
You pulled it down, while Joel tried to hide the noise with a cough.
You pushed aside the flaps of his pants, pulling down his boxers to free his cock. He was hard in front of you.
Thick, pink and darker at the tip, pulsing veins ran along the shaft that was slightly curved to the right.
Little drops of pre cum dripped onto his skin, making your mouth water.
It was perfect and you had to have it. Right there and then.
You kitten-licked the underside where a white pearly bead was sliding, catching it with your tongue.
Joel squirmed visibly on his chair, you couldn’t see it but you imagined his eyebrows shutting up and his lips twisting.
You smiled in the heavy and heated air under the desk.
You hoped Pam would go away, but at the same time you were intrigued by putting Joel through the wringer without him being able to make any fumbling movements to stop you.
You held his cock in your hand, it throbbed in your palm, and a musky smell filled your nostrils. The smell of sex.
You didn’t resist and licked again, more greedily, its flavor spread over your tongue.
It was driving you crazy.
You felt his whole body stiffen as he sent his secretary away
“That's all for now Pam, thank you. Tell the team to refine the graphics and report to Ms. Jones that the idea may work but the slogan is a bit weak, I want more ideas for next week ”
He had tried to maintain a professional tone, but his voice cracked mid-sentence, and you could only be mischievously proud of that.
As soon as Pam came out he yanked up his pants and wrapped a hand around your wrist dragging you out of your hiding place.
“You dirty slut, what were you trying to do?" he rattled off.
He had you standing up and trapped you against his chest, his half-dressed erection pressing hard against your ass.
His hand closed on your wrist hurt but you didn't care, you liked being manhandled like that.
You weren’t even intimidated anymore, just feral.
Unhinged, eager, completely drunk on him.
“I thought you liked some action under the desk, Mr Miller” you replied, sneering without shame.
“Oh you’re so thoughtful, aren’t you?” He barked, shoving you on the desk again.
“Yes I am.” You have never been so cheeky before, you were quite surprised and proud of yourself.
“No, you aren’t, darling”
With that, he pushed you onto the desk, your breasts pressed against the perfectly polished wood and his hands running to your skirt to hastily tug it down.
It was like Deja vu.
The best type of.
He moved to lock the door.
“Hands on the desk, darling. And you better not take them out of there”
He took off his tie, placed it on the desk and walked over.
His authoritative voice sent a rush of arousal straight to your pussy.
He pulled down your panties, making you walk out of them and throwing them on the floor.
His hand grazed your folds, lightly at first and then he covered your whole sex and squeezed, sending a rush of adrenaline into your system
“First time doing it? Getting fucked by your boss? Mh?”
“Yes” you breathed “I’ve never done anything like this before”
”You think you earned it?”
“Yes”
He had withdrawn his hand from your pussy and placed both of them on your thighs.
“Bold of you. And I've already told you, you have to learn to speak properly. Yes, what?” His hands were gripping on your flesh so hard you were sure you'd end up with bruises.
“Yes, please” you whispered. “You think you deserve me giving attention to your pussy, huh?”
His voice was low and raspy, almost like a subdued roar.
“Yes, please. Sir.” You added, emphasizing this last word.
“That's the way I like it, you're starting to learn. Turn around” You got up from the desk and he pushed you to sit on the edge, your bare pussy leaking on the surface.
He slipped his hands down your thighs, over your bottom, up your back, stopping at the sides of your breasts. His thumbs rubbed your nipples through your shirt and lacy bra while he held you trapped between his body and the desk, standing between your open legs.
Your naked pussy throbbed against his pants, you could feel it dripping over the fabric, making a mess. He slipped his hand between the two of you, touching your folds with the pads of his fingers, up and down gathering more and more of your arousal and spreading it all over on your lips and clit. You tried hard to stifle your moans but a low husky one escaped your lips as you were rocking your hips against his hand.
“Look what I’m doing to your pussy.” He ordered while he started flicking your bundle of nerves. You looked down at his hand moving obscenely over your pussy, two of his thick fingers sliding inside you, his ring right out that was getting wet with you. You gasped loudly at the sensation when he curled them up just right, reaching for your special spot. “Be quiet” he had warned you off “either that or I’ll stop immediately” “No!” You wailed. “No, what?” He barked grasping your neck with his free hand
You looked at yourself in his pitch black eyes, losing yourself in that deep darkness.
A taunting smile curved his lips. “No, please” you were quick to correct yourself “That’s right” his hand lightly squeezed your pulse point. “Undo my shirt, now” Your fingers were moving awkwardly over the buttons, trying to unfasten them while he continued to move his fingers inside you.
His skin, unveiled before your eyes, was almost too much to bear: golden and dotted with freckles that you wanted to lick one by one.
He smelled like whiskey and mint and a distinctive something that was only his, filling your nostrils, awakening every molecule of that secret part of you that was a slave for him.
Once you reached the last one you were so worked up you were almost on your brink, Joel noticed that right away and stopped, taking away his hand from your pussy. You whined in disappointment and he retorted
“You don’t get to complain, darling” accompanying his words with a slap on your right tit “we clear?” “Yes, sir. I’m sorry” you breathed, feeling the pain spread all over your chest.
A rush of adrenaline made you quiver against his hot body.
He put his wet fingers in your mouth. “Clean them up, darling” And you did, you thoroughly swirled your tongue all over them, licking till the last drop, going feral for the taste of you and the way he pushed them through your lips, up to his knuckles.
“Good job”
He took off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. He shifted, moving you in front of him.
“Kneel. Show me how sorry you are for complaining” You kneeled right away, moving your hand over his pants, stroking the underline of his cock. “What do you want?” “Your cock” you purred “Ask nicely” he told you, totally unfazed by your attempt to bribe him
“Can I please pull your cock out, sir?” You would have looked up to anyone, but the power it exerted over you at that point was unmanageable and devoured you.
His onyx eyes were fixed on you, pinning you down to the ground, like he was holding your entire being in his fist.
You couldn’t ask for anything more.
“Go ahead”
You hastily pulled down his pants and boxers, he stepped out of them and kicked them away.
You took his shaft back into your hand, licking the tip first, coating it in your saliva, until it was glistening and pulsing right before your eyes again.
You slid it in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, savoring his musky flavor, licking him like a lollipop, like the most delicious ice cream you’ve ever had.
“That’s what a good girl does,” he praised you “she fills her pretty mouth with a nice cock, just like that” You relaxed your jaw to take all that you could of him in your mouth.
His fingers reached for the back of your head, holding you possessively
“Go on, miss, I know you want it, don’t you? You would like my cum on your tongue, huh?” You hummed against his shaft, even more eager for him.
You tried to brush your fingers on your clit, searching for some relief from the throbbing heated mess you felt between your thighs but he scolded you
“Nuh huh, girl, don’t you dare. You don’t get to come until I say it” You whined, reluctantly moving your hand away.
You kept sucking on his cock, devouring every inch of him with purpose, messy and sloppy, thin trades of your saliva running onto his length to his balls.
You swirled on the tip before sliding down to them and taking one in your mouth, greedily sucking on it.
He was granite that crumbled slightly at your every touch, trying to hold back the grunts that vibrated in his throat, trying not to close his eyes so as not to get lost in every lap of your tongue. He tried not to give you any satisfaction but at the same time his body betrayed him, letting slip how much he wanted all of that. And you.
At his brink, he stopped you, manhandling you back on the desk, tearing away your shirt making every single button pop out and yanking at your bra to expose your nipples.
His lips closed on one of your hard rock buds and sucked it avidly. You were a whimpering mess, whining under your breath “please sir, fuck me”
He grazed your nipple with his teeth, running a finger through your folds.
“Look at you, darling, so hungry for my cock your pussy is weeping, your body is shaking…”
With one hand he yanked the papers off the desk, a shower of paper clips followed the sheets to the floor along with a stapler and the golden tag with his name engraved on it.
“Lie down” he hissed
You lay on the desk, obscenely open and throbbing for him, a raw uncontrollable heat flowing through your body.
“Please” you cried.
He grabbed your legs and placed them on his shoulders, holding you tightly by your ankles.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this” he said tapping his cock on your folds and sliding it through them, before starting to enter you agonizingly slow.
“Mmm feel how good she’s stretching, darling, your tight little pussy’s all full of me”
“Yes, sir”
“Say: thank you, sir”
“Thank you, sir”
It was all inside you and your pussy was swallowing it hungrily.
He started thrusting into a steady rhythm, slowly at first, like tidal waves hitting you, ripples on a blank shore caressing your special spot, and then stronger, faster, like thunderstorm on the ocean, high dangerous waves making you see stars.
His huge cock shifting and brushing against your drenched walls, sinking into you again and again.
Your moans bounced around the room like an echo, mixing with squelching sounds of his dick slamming into you, making you his.
“Yes, baby, you’re doing so good for me” he whispered “come here”.
He grabbed you and held you close to his chest, making your legs parting some more, reaching for another angle that made you feel him even deeper.
His moustache brushed along your jawline, lowering on your neck, his lips sucking on your pulse point.
“Look at you, dripping on my desk,” he muttered softly, his voice reverberating on your skin.
The impossible pace became too much to bear when his hand moved from your hips to your clit, his thumb brushing on it.
He looked you in the eyes, feral and assertively “you want to come, huh? Make a mess all over my cock?”
“Yes.” You cried, seeing the wreck that you were reflecting in his deep brown eyes “yes, please sir I need it”
“Then come, baby” he said, increasing the pressure on your clit and pushing into you like it was a matter of life or death.
That was all you needed to hear.
You broke the dams that still kept you anchored to reality and flooded his cock, squirting all over his desk, a complete and utter disaster disheveled and exhausted.
The fine wood of his desk was probably ruined forever but he didn't seem to care in the slightest, he pumped into you, grabbing your neck and hair until he spurted all of him into your cunt.
You felt it warm and sticky, painting your walls, making you full like you’ve never been before.
He slipped out a moment later, caressing your cheeks and praising you.
You got up from his desk and clung to his neck, pulling him into a long, deep kiss, tilting your head as you felt his tongue play with yours.
“Thank you” you murmured against his lips, smiling softly “And by the way, I’m on the pill”
“I know. I saw you take it the other day in the conference room before the meeting started” he said, while adjusting his trousers and taking a clean shirt from a desk drawer.
“Get out of here, naughty girl”
“Well, you destroyed my blouse…” you said, picking up the garment from the floor.
“Here, take mine”
You put on his shirt, too big for you, trying to tuck it under your skirt so it was less noticeable how long it was. He helped you by rolling up your sleeves, barely touching your skin, but enough to make you feel a shiver down your spine.
“mmm sexy,” he said when he stopped to look at you.
“Let’s try not to make this a habit” he smirked, giving you another playful slap on your ass cheek “We can't do this 24 hours a day, seven days a week.”
“Why not?” You winked right before going out the door.
You could smell him on you and it drove you crazy. You already knew that you would use his shirt to sleep that very night and for many nights to come.
Once outside the door, Pam looked at you over her glasses, raised an eyebrow, and for the first time you saw a little smile curve her lips.
tag list for this one: @baronessvonglitter @milla-frenchy @thundermartini @probablyreadinsmut @almostempty @gothcsz @harriedandharassed
archive tag: @pedrostories Let me know if you want to be added or removed, I'll do it right away.
#nhie2025#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel the last of us#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#joel miller x female reader
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