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alexiroflife · 6 months ago

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Hello! May I request an angsty toji fic where reader finds out she's pregnant (post megumi) and she knows toji doesn't want anymore children so she just kinda leaves with little to no explanation? Maybe just a small note saying things aren't working out. It's up to you if it will be a hurt/comfort. Idk you don't have to do this request I don't want to overload you! I seriously love your writing. The way you right the character just warms my heart. I especially love ur hiding an Injury fic it was SO SO SO GOOD. 🩶🤍🖤

“promise”

toji fushiguro x reader

Synopsis: see above

to sum it up: you think it’s better to run away than to be the one to get hurt

WC: 5,668

Warning(s): angst, suggestive themes, yelling, pregnancy, mentions of abortion

You stare down at the plastic tube clutched in your trembling hands in awe, eyes blown with shocked grief as you peer closer to get a better look, as though those two bright pink lines could have been a trick of your vision.

Unfortunately, however, your vision remains just as crystal clear as it always has been. As you stand in your cramped apartment bathroom, illuminated by a flickering fluorescent gaze shining down from above, horror befalls you.

You’re pregnant.

You should have known sooner when you began feeling queasy every morning, taking trips to either your or Toji’s toilet to hurl out the contents of whatever swam inside your stomach. You always tried to be silent if Toji was around, for he slept like a dog that could not be woken even if a meteor struck earth, and you had been remarkably exhausted. You aren’t even sure if there is a word to describe how sluggish your entire mind and body had been feeling, but you wanted to rule out the very obvious answer to your problems before exploring it.

You begin to panic, your heart pounding in your ears and throat and every inch of your body you could feel the pulse, eyes blurry over the positive test. You’re conflicted. You don’t know how to feel. On the one hand, you would have been jumping for joy to learn that you are starting a new life with your boyfriend, to step into a new chapter of your lives and to provide his children with another sibling.

But hell, the celebration is far too naive and implausible to be had. The sage eyed man has told you time and time again that he does not wish to have anymore kids, that the ones he has are enough and he is not equipped financially or mentally to care for another brat. In honor of those wishes, you’re on the pill, and consequently, Toji has taken the opportunity to plow his load inside of you time after time after time.

And you really, truly should have known that with Toji’s uniquely abled body, what was meant to serve as a barrier and a means of contraception did not work.

You feel like throwing up. What would Toji say? What would he do? What are you supposed to do? Should you tell him, fill him in on what’s going on to risk rejection and abandonment, a nasty habit that Toji had to work to rid himself of when he met you? Would he even care? Would he listen?

You know Toji to be a very tough man, despite the softened interior he attempts to hide in others’ company that is only displayed for you and for his kids. If he has always been adamant about one thing, it’s been to never have kids again, to focus on where he fucked up before and to pour his attention into the little family he’s grown, the one that he has now.

His voice echoes through your head like the gong of a church bell striking upon the ear’s of a sinner.

“Hell, I already got my hands full tryna get Megumi through his teenage years. What the hell is another child gonna do for us?”

“That shit’s fuckin’ expensive. Not to mention, I’d have to baby proof the house again. That’s another expense.”

“If I was capable of givin’ you y’er own, I would, doll. But I ain’t cut out for it. You know that.”

You don’t even know why he would stress the matter so often. You suppose he’s caught the way your eyes linger on a mother tossing their giggling baby up and down into the air, innocent pools of joy beaming down at her each time it reaches the air and lands in her secure hold. Or maybe he’s seen the way you care so deeply for Toji’s kids as though they are your own, despite telling you when you first got involved with each other that he did not expect you to step into their lives in anyway - and yet, you have done that and more. You know how the kids must struggle each day with the trauma of losing their mother so early on, and you never wanted them to think that you were trying to step in as her replacement, but you love them so clearly, as much as you love the man who created them.

Which leads you to your next concern. How would the kids react?

It’s one thing for you, as their father’s girlfriend, to wander into their lives and help navigate them their teenage hood alongside the dark haired man, but to introduce an entire other child only leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

They may be crushed. They me turn to hate you, to despise how you have contaminated the life they have worked so hard to rebuild after numerous tragedies. And would Toji agree with them? Would he turn his nose up to you, that scowl of his melting over his harsh features as he shuns you just as he shunned every other woman who came after his wife and before you. Would he leave you? Would he kick you out of the world that has become your own because you failed to live up to your promise, though it technically isn’t your fault that you are pregnant now but it feels as though it is?

You can not stand the thought, of the man you love turning his once loving gaze stone upon the sight of you, of him pushing you further away, permanently, in the same manner that he tried to when he realized that he was falling in love with you, of watching Megumi and Tsumiki turn their backs to you as though the past four years of your lives had never happened, banning you from their acceptance forever more.

Tears well in your gaze, interfering with your vision. This can not be happening, you think to yourself, everything has been going so well, and now this? This is going to ruin your relationship with Toji for good. Even if you were not in a committed relationship with him, you assume that the idea of any woman getting impregnated by Toji would have been thrown away. You would be thrown away, just like all the others who gave Toji their bodies but not their hearts.

Not the way you have.

Your heart clenches thinking of just how much you love Toji and the kids, of how you would be willing to lay down your own life for the sake of them as Toji swears that he would for you all in return. Even so, despite the commitment to you that a man who swore never to be committed to accustomed, this would be going too far.

…You’re not even sure if he would love you anymore.

Now that you’re pregnant with his child, a child he never meant to have with you, you assume you will mean nothing to him any longer. In his eyes, you will simply become the slut that he took a chance on by a whim, carrying something he would never call his own. You believe the old Toji will resurface, the one who claimed not to care, the one who shoved women out of his bedroom before the sun rose in the sky, the one who often failed to remember to pick his kids up from school, the one who would no longer meet you at eye level but look down upon you, frown upon you for being so clumsy.

You know Toji is the one who did this, but this still feels like it is your doing. Like somehow, you trapped him and he now has no choice but to break free from the steel cage you have barred around him with your conception.

Your fingers clutch over the plastic, your eyes scrunching closed to release a fresh set of tears that cascade over your cheeks and onto the test. You can feel yourself mourning your relationship already, you can feel it slipping through your fingers, see it fading in the distance until it becomes nothing but a bittersweet memory that you can not determine as reality or a figment of your imagination any longer.

You tilt your head, bringing the test to your forehead as you think, grieve, cry. You mull over your options; you could hide this from Toji, get an abortion and never think of it again or you could tell Toji and lose him forever.

You open your bleary eyes, lashes decked with dewy tears, as another idea dawns upon you. You could leave, leave before Toji and the kids have a chance to leave you.

It’s a cruel thought, you think, especially abandoning those children without any proper explanation for them, but what else are you meant to do? You’d be doing them all a favor if anything by taking your leave without them having to be plagued by the knowledge of your unplanned pregnancy, of what they may view as a scheme to destroy their family in your new baby’s wake.

The thought kills you to even entertain. You had promised those kids that you weren’t going anywhere, that you’d stay with them for as long as they allowed you… but this is different. This is not what any of you had in your cards, how you believed your futures to go. Toji wants simplicity at home while he works through chaos through his occupation. He wants security, warmth, safety for you, Megumi, Tsumiki, and no one else. He would never welcome another child. You believe he’d be caught dead before approving of your pregnancy.

And therefore, you know what you have to do.

After taking a few more tests to ensure that the readings are accurate, which they are, you pledge to walk away. You pledge to leave the only man you’ve ever truly loved, the strongest family you’ve known, and the slim possibility that despite Toji’s wishes, he may accept you.

But you don’t want to take that chance and risk the humiliation and unplanned heartbreak. You’d much rather take matters into your own hands, and plan the shattering of your soul yourself.

You don’t sleep all night, for you’re too busy drafting about twenty different letters to Toji. Crumpled loosleaf paper litters the floor beside your bed as you try to think of how to best write down everything you want to say. You go through pages and pages until you are finally satisfied with the result, and the next morning, you slip the envelope into his mail slot and prepare to pack your life away.

It is late Sunday morning when Toji rises from his slumber. The first thing he does is lean over the sheets and drape his arm toward his nightstand to read your daily good morning text - only he finds there isn’t one. With pinched brows, he takes his phone to unlock it and visit your contact. Nothing.

The time reads 12:35 pm. Normally, you’re up and at it or even banging down his door by then to wake him. Maybe you’re just sleeping in?

He goes to give your cell a call, but nothing. Not only that, but your phone is also on do not disturb mode. His gut immediately swells with the suspicion that something is wrong. The dark haired assassin supposes he’s going to pay you a visit this afternoon as soon as he checks on the kids to ensure that they are alright.

His bedroom door opens with a creak, and he calls out to the teens gruffly through a yawn. When they don’t respond, he’s truly growing concerned.

He rounds the corner to prepare to head for their rooms when he finds Tsumiki and Megumi at the dining table. His brows furrow, his pace slowing as he takes in their faces. Tsumiki’s lips are pressed together tightly and the muscles in her face are scrunched as though she is about to cry, while Megumi stares ahead with empty eyes and a hardened exterior.

Toji frowns with quirked brows, approaching his kids. “What’s wrong with you two?”

His brunette daughter looks up at him with glassy eyes and wrinkled chin, lashes fluttering while Megumi does not bother to look at his father. Instead, he brings Toji’s attention to a torn envelope and a thick packet of papers pressed beneath the sixteen year old’s palm. Wordlessly, Megumi slides it toward him, brows slanting.

Toji, perplexed, looks between the papers and his children’s troubled faces. What is this letter? Overdue taxes? An eviction notice? That can’t be possible, because you had ensured that Toji and the kids’ place was secure long ago.

He crunches the papers in his hands and picks them up to read. The first thing that catches his eye is your scribbling handwriting, and the following words that send his heart plummeting to his ass:

This isn’t working out.

Toji whips his head up, baffled, and when he meets Megumi’s gaze again, his eyes are ablaze with resentment.

“What the hell did you do?” he growls.

The green eyed man is not even thinking before he’s dialing Shiu’s number, asking him to watch the kids for the next hour or so, and running out of the apartment after throwing rather unconvincing words of assurance over his shoulder to his kids, who are still with disbelief - Tsumiki with devastation and Megumi with rage, for surely his father pushed you away.

Toji does not bother finding a ride, electing to run to your place which is only a few blocks away. You two were just discussing moving in with one another, combining households, and this is what you spring onto him? Not even for him to stumble across first, but his kids who look up to you and love you like their own mother?

Oh, he’s fuming, a rush of emotions taking over his mind as it fuels his speed. The letter you wrote is still crunched in his fist, whipping through the air as he makes his way to you.

Dear Toji,

This is not working out.

But before you rampage and get angry with me, please let me explain. Let me explain how much I love you, how much those kids mean to me, and how every day I wake up I want to be greeted by all of your smiling faces. For the rest of time, forever. You are undoubtedly the only man for me, and I truly believe that. I know you may think I’m bullshitting because of how the beginning of this letter contradicts what im saying now, but it’s true. I have never loved another person the way I love you, and while it scared me at first when you were so stubborn and full of anger that you misdirected onto me, I stayed and I waited and I helped you and I’ve loved you through every single moment, ever week, every month, and every year. You brought purpose back into my life, and I can picture you scoffing because you’d say the same, but I mean it. You, Tsumiki, and Megumi are the best things that have ever happened to me. I love you all so much.

But in this case, that love is not enough.

I hate to be doing this to you, to the kids, but I have no other choice. Things aren’t going the way they used to, and it’s not your fault but mine. I’m the reason. And it is tearing me apart to know that and simultaneously know what I have to do in order to keep you and the kids happy. Stable. I wish I could explain to you more why I am doing this, but I can’t. Not just because I am dying to picture you reading this, but because I truly can not say. I do not want to ruin you guys’ image of me. While I think that’s a selfish thing to say because who knows how me leaving is going to hurt you all, you would not understand even if you knew the reason behind this.

By the time you are done reading this, I will be gone. I’m going away because as long as I am not with you all, I can’t stay here anymore. I am staying with my mother while I get my travel plans arranged, because I know how you worry when you do not know where I am or if im safe. I should be gone by Friday.

Please do not come see me. I have made my decision, and you will only be hurting us more by trying to stop me. I won’t be stopped.

Kiss and hug and apologize to Megumi and Tsumiki for me. I hope you find someone who fills the role of their mother, someone who knows how Megumi likes to do his homework in the silence of his room with no music or anything, completely isolated so he can focus. Someone who knows how to fix Tsumiki’s eggs properly - to add extra butter to the sides when you fry them so the edges get crispier. Someone who won’t try to feed Gumi’a demidogs because he hates when people assume they can coddle up to them upon first introduction. Someone who cares for the wholly the way I do and always will.

And you. I know how stubborn you are. I know how angry you probably are at me right now, and I will miss that about you, but please do not let that interfere with the possibility of falling in love again. Beneath the layers of grit, standoffishness, and indifference, you are a man with a big heart. For me. For your kids. For those you love and seek to protect.

You say you aren’t a good man, and while that may be true to you, you are an amazing partner and you’ve already become an amazing parent. I’ve seen you grow, and I am so in love with you and so proud of you. I know you’ll be okay without me. It maybe take some time, but you’ll adjust to what’s best. I promise.

With all the love that could possibly be harbored in this world, you are everything to me and that is why I have to go. I wish you every happiness this planet can offer you, and I know that without me, you can begin to find joy again.

Love,

Your doll

You had believed to time this perfectly, for you know that Toji usually does not wake until one, so soon as you are finishing up packing, you are trudging down the stairs to the leasing office to inform them that you will be moving.

You push open the door to the first floor, the breeze hitting you gently, and you round the corner only to be blocked by the last person you wanted to run into during this time.

Your eyes widen as you look up, the burly figure you have grown oh so familiar with over the years heaving as though enraged, ivy eyes crowding over slim pupils as Toji glares down at you, an image of indescribable fury.

Your heart drops and your words die in your throat. “T-Toji?” you whisper, horrified of an outburst. You are rattled by fear, having been so unprepared to walk into this. You did not put it past him to chase you down. But you figured that you’d be at your parents by the time he woke. Then, you could have at least told them to tell him off at the door.

But no. Instead, here he is, six feet and then some of bulking mass as he takes quick, deep breaths that expand the entirety of his chest.

You shift. “What are you doing here-“

“What the fuck is this?”

Toji swiftly, yet aggressively, lifts the papers in his hands, now damaged by his travels and his grip, shaking it firmly with the question. You gulp, lowering your eyes.

“Toji, I told you not to come…”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he swears firmly, and you jump, looking to see if anyone is around to hear you, as the two of you are standing outside your complex.

“We shouldn’t be- let’s just go inside,” you go to grab his arm, but he tears it away. He stares at you as though you have burned him, singed the heart in his chest from the inside out, and he is so unforgiving. So unforgiving before he hears directly from your mouth what this is about.

“I’m not doin’ shit until you tell me what the fuck this is, (Y/n),” he demands, his hand moving the papers about passionately with his speech, and you feel your heart hammering again. This is not how things were supposed to go. You are not supposed to be seeing him right now. “Cause I refuse- I fuckin’ refuse to believe that you’re breaking up with me.”

Your eyes gloss over as you look down at your feet, unsure of what to do or how to handle this confrontation. You can’t do this. You can’t, it’s too much. It’s too hard.

“…I am,” you mumble.

Toji steps forward, leaning down to get a peek of your face, his expression so angry that it worries you. “What?”

“I said… I am.”

“Uh uh, you better say that shit with your chest if you can write a whole damn letter about it,” he growls, fucking further as you continue to turn away. “Look at me,” he barks, and you cringe.

“Toji, don’t yell at me!” you shout back.

“What else do’ya want me to do, huh?” he throws his hands up. “How else do you expect me to react to this bullshit?! You’re leavin’ me? After everythin’ we been through, after everythin’ you and the kids’ve been through, you’re leavin? Are you fuckin’ serious?”

He takes a swift glance at the papers, the very sight sending him into a spiral, before he’s heatedly looking back down at you.

“I don’t buy this shit for one second. No. You’re not leavin’. Not in this world, or the next.”

“I am, Toji, the quicker you accept that, the easier it’ll be for everyone!”

“Easy?” he winces as though the prospect pains him. “You call this shit easy? You call up and tryin’ to abandon me easy? You call the kids waking up to your letter and reading it at the table before I saw it easy?”

Your face falls. “…what?”

“Yeah. You fuckin’ heard me,” he sneers. “Megumi and Tsumiki read this shit first. First thing in the morning, they see a letter about how the woman they love is leavin’ ‘em, just like their mom did, and for what?”

You close your eyes, his words stinging you as they cut through. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true, ain’t it? Y’er leavin’ us, (Y/n), and you didn’t even have the decency to say why!”

Guilt crowds you, like a blanket of darkness consuming you from overhead, and as Toji stands before you completely torn apart by your letter, you see the fear in his eyes, the sadness, the unspoken plea for you not to go.

You try your best to keep your composure as you turn away again. “I told you, I can’t tell you.”

“Fuck that,” he lifts the letter and tosses it to the ground with a thud. You gasp, watching it slam to the concrete pavement.

“Toji!” you exclaim.

“You think you can just leave without me comin’ to hunt you down and see your face so I can figure out what the hell is goin’ on? You must not know me at all.”

“Why do you always have to be so aggressive about everything?!”

“Of all fuckin’ things, (Y/n), I think I got a right to be aggressive about this. You were gonna leave without sayin’ goodbye!” he tosses his arm out to the side with the exclamation, brows twisting and teeth bearing. “Is that what our relationship means t’ya? You think you can just toss us aside?”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” you beg, a lump forming in your throat as the two of you stand face to face, arguing without a car about who will see you.

“Then tell me,” he shouts. “Cause you’re not givin’ me shit to go off of!”

“I told you already, I can’t,” your lips quiver.

“Then our relationship is nothing to you.”

“No, Toji.”

“Clearly it ain’t, cause I’d think it’d be worth an explanation if you’re runnin’ away!” you frown and shake your head, turning to walk back into the complex when Toji cuts you off, moving in your way. “You don’t think I know you? You don’t think I see it all over your face that somethin’s got you scared, and y’re takin’ off because of it? You think I don’t know what that looks like, (Y/n)? I did that shit. I did it all the damn time before I met you, and hell, I tried to run then but you wouldn’t let me, so what the hell makes you think I’m gonna let you now?”

“This is different,” you say shortly, afraid to reveal the tremble of your voice to the man before you. You keep your gaze down as you try to go around him again, but to no avail. He steps in your path. “Stop!”

“I ain’t stoppin’,” he says gravely, keeping his eyes to yours though you try to avoid contact with them. “Not until you spit it out. I’ll be damned if I got another broken home cause y’re fuckin’ scared.”

“I said stop!” you try to find some bass in your voice, but against your will, it falters when you yell. Toji eyes you carefully, reaching his hand out to grip your shoulder and steady you into place.

You scoff, attempting to pull away, but it’s no use. The dark haired man is everywhere, keeping you from walking away.

“You talk to me like the grown ass woman you are,” he tells you sternly, stepping in. “You use that voice I know you have, and don’t you ever let me catch you writin’ a letter to me about how you wanna break up instead of comin’ to talk to me. Y’understand?”

You exhale shakily, lips pressing together and brows curling. “I can’t.”

“Y’re still not tellin’ me why you think that.”

“Because I can’t, Toji. I can’t tell you. It’ll- it’ll fuck up everything!” you break, and Toji feels the pit in his stomach shift as he looks over your aggrieved expression, depicting the same exact things he feels.

“(Y/n),” he calls your name firmly, the sound of it on his tongue only inspiring the urge to cry more. You continue to shake your head though Toji isn’t exactly speaking, and his green eyes wander you with frustrated concern. “Y’scared of what I’ll do if you tell me?”

You freeze, slowly peeling your eyes to look at his, his face tense with grief. You stare at him for a moment, mouth gaping like a fish as all of your insecurities that talked you toward this ledge run through your mind once more.

“Don’t look surprised,” he says. “I know you like the back of my hand, and I know that you knew I’d be over here to stop ya.”

Your frown deepens, and this time as you look at him, you see every second of your future that you were quick to stomp dow. You see the unbridled, unfiltered love he holds for you as well as the blood curdling fear of letting you go.

“You have to understand,” you whimper. “I know how you’ll react, I- I can’t do this to you. You have to let me go.”

“What the hell could be so horrifyin’ in that head of yours to make you think that I won’t stick with ya through hell and high water?” he grits out, searching your swollen hues of (e/c) hesitation. “You’d do the same for me.”

“I know, but-“

“There’s nothin’ else to say. I ain’t leavin’ until you spill, and when you do, y’re comin’ with me.”

You look at him, pained. It’s a trap, you think. If Toji only knew, he’d be running for the hills instead of trying to track you down.

“Out with it, now.”

You can’t. You can’t tell him. He’ll leave you, he’ll reject you, he’ll turn you away, he’ll never let you see the kids again.

“(Y/n)!”

“I’m pregnant!”

The earth seems to freeze and time seems to slow. You scrunch your eyes, anticipating the worst to come as Toji takes in your words, his tensed expression melting slowly.

You don’t open your eyes to see his reaction. You keep your head ducked and your fists closed as the white noise of nature flutters into relevance. You’re trembling, terrified, and Toji can not move but instead proceeds to stare at you, stunned.

His words about not wanting any more kids run through your mind again as you await his response, and the suspense kills you as you do. You can feel his grip on your shoulder slacken before tightening again, and you are terrified.

He’s going to leave you.

You are quick to step away when the sentiment arises once more, Toji’s hand falling from you arm. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, still unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, I know that you don’t want any more kids. I know, an I thought we were being careful, but- I took five tests. They’re all positive.”

“You’re pregnant?” he echoes, and you still. You knew it. You knew this would happen.

“I told you, Toji,” you exhale. “I told you that I couldn’t tell you, and now everything’s a mess.”

He twitches. “Hold on-“

“Don’t tell me all of a sudden you want kids,” you snap. “I know how strongly you feel about it.”

“So instead of talkin’ to me, you were gonna leave? Knocked up? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What other choice do I have?!” you cry. “You don’t want more kids, and if I kept it, it would only be a nuisance to you. And Megumi and Tsumiki?”

He scrunches his face. “What about ‘em?”

“How do you think they’d feel if the woman you’re dating after their mother died surprised them with a new baby? They’d be crushed!” you say shakily as salty tears well in your eyes again. “I can’t overstep your boundaries. I just can’t. It’s easier for me to go.”

“And do what, (Y/n)? Raise a kid on your own without any help?”

“I can’t bare you leaving me!” you suddenly confess, tear striking past your cheek.

Toji examines you and frowns. “What are y’talkin’ about? You’re tryin’ to leave me!”

“So I can prevent the inevitable from happening,” you huff. “I’m okay with it. I’ve made peace with everything. That’s why you need to just let me go-“

“After everythin’, you think I’d throw you away because you’re pregnant with my kid?” Toji says incredulously. You falter, for you had been so sure of his reaction before. “You think that low of me?”

“No, but I want you to have what you want.”

“What I want is you, you fuckin’ idiot,” he hisses. “All I ever wanted was you, and I can’t fuckin’ believe you’re tryin’ to take that away from me.”

You furrow your brows, confused. “…You’re not mad?”

“Girl, I’m livid,” he scowls. “Not about the damn kid, but because you assumed what I would say before comin’ to me.”

“Toji, you have to understand that I was trying to look out for you.”

“There’s not lookin’ out for me or those kids or makin’ them happy if you’re gone, (Y/n),” he bites. “Who th’fuck put that idea in your head?”

You stammer, tears proceeding to flow down your face as you reel in the reality of the situation. “I… I just thought-“

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

Before you can respond, his hand is gripping your wrist and he’s tugging you toward him into his chest. You shake when you fall into him, listening to the pace of his heart rapidly beating against your ear as he breaths quickly against you. Large palms smooth over your head and down to your waist as he holds you tightly, and you notice how desperate his grip is. He’s holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, as though you’ll fly away if his hold is not tight enough.

He tucks his head into your neck, fingers grasping into your shirt, and suddenly the animosity of the moment prior is gone. You’re still trembling, leading Toji to hold you tighter to him.

“Can’t believe you tried to leave,” he murmurs into your hair. “Christ, (Y/n) you’re tryin’ to gimme a heart attack. The fuck is goin’ on with you.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest, looking off sadly. “I thought you’d be upset about it. I didn’t want you to know.”

“I should know about any and every single thing that’s goin’ on with you, y’hear me? This ain’t no exception.”

A weight flutters from your shoulders as you sink into Toji’s head, silent tears streaming for the life you almost sacrificed. “What are we gonna do?”

“I dunno,” he mumbles. “But we’ll figure it out. As a team. Alright?”

You nod meekly. “Okay.”

He groans, pressing himself impossibly further to you. “That letter… fuck, don’t do that shit. Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that. Without you, I ain’t shit- pregnant or not. And those kids would adore another sibling if you were bringing it into this world. Don’t say that shit about them again either. They need ya. We need ya.”

“I’m sorry,” you whine again, Toji’s hand stroking over your back soothingly.

“It’s okay,” he grumbles. “We’ll figure it out.”

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FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPT LIST

this year's prompts were chosen through a suggestion poll (in which we recevied 2,281 prompts) and a subsequent vote, where over 1,000 people voted for their favourites. the top 29 make up the core prompts, and a mixture of the next most popular - and this blog's personal favourites - have become the alternates

i’m so excited to see what you all create with these prompts, and hope they’re inspiring enough to trigger a whole month’s worth of creativity for you! if you have any questions, please check out the blog's faq before sending an ask, or check out the previously asked questions on the blog!

please note: this year, notifying the blog of completionist status will happen through a google form that will be released closer to the end of febuwhump.

full write-up of prompts and rules under the cut:

FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPTS:

DAY 1: helpless

DAY 2: solitary confinement

DAY 3: "bite down on this"

DAY 4: obedience

DAY 5: rope burns

DAY 6: "you lied to me"

DAY 7: suffering in silence

DAY 8: "why won't it stop?"

DAY 9: bees

DAY 10: killing in self defence

DAY 11: time loop

DAY 12: semi-conscious

DAY 13: "you weren't supposed to get hurt"

DAY 14: blood-stained tiles

DAY 15: "who did this to you?"

DAY 16: came back wrong

DAY 17: hostage situation

DAY 18: too weak to move

DAY 19: "please don't"

DAY 20: truth serum

DAY 21: unresponsive

DAY 22: "you weren't meant to be there"

DAY 23: presumed dead

DAY 24: "i'm doing this because i care about you"

DAY 25: waterboarding

DAY 26: "help them"

DAY 27: left for dead

DAY 28: "no... not like this"

DAY 29: not allowed to die

ALTERNATE PROMPTS:

is there a specific day’s prompt you don’t want to fill? here are ten alternatives you can switch them out for!

ALT 1: human shield

ALT 2: "i love you"

ALT 3: found footage

ALT 4: human weapon

ALT 5: cpr

ALT 6: immortality

ALT 7: last words

ALT 8: killing game

ALT 9: lightning strike

ALT 10: last man standing

RULES:

SOFT RULES:

prompts should be answered in the form of whump

creators can produce whatever kind of media they want

you don’t have to complete all the prompts! you can create however much you want to

you can use the prompts after the event ends and can complete them in tandem with any other event

you can post on any platform you want, however this blog will only be sharing those posted on tumblr

if you want to be featured on the hall of fame then you have until the 3rd of March to inform this blog that you completed all the days

if you have questions consult the faq before asking

HARD RULES: (specifically for being featured on the blog)

when uploading febuwhump content to tumblr, please use the tags:

febuwhump (i’ll also be checking febuwhump2024)

the relevant day’s tag e.g. febuwhumpday1, febuwhumpday2…

nsfw (if relevant)

and any trigger warnings that may be important!

you can also tag the blog, @febuwhump

i cannot guarantee your work will be archived on the blog because I have no idea how many participants there will be. a random selection of works tagged in accordance to the rules above will be reblogged every day of february.

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump2024 #prompts #whump #whump prompts

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gf2bellamy · 6 days ago

Note

Hello!

Can you do a spencer x reader where there was a hard case and in the way back on the jet spencer takes care of reader? maybe they fall asleep together in the couch. Derek and Prentiss gossiping about them. Hotchner happy for them.

Thanks love 🩵

doubt — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of victims, feelings of guilt, a/n: thank you for your request !! <3 hope you like this also derek and emily r so me i'd gossip too

The jet hummed as it cut through the night sky, a constant, rhythmic drone filling the quiet cabin. It was a sound you had grown used to, one that usually wrapped around you like a cocoon of familiarity after long, grueling cases. But tonight, it didn't help.

Your mind was elsewhere.The faces of the victims haunted you, their unfinished stories clawing at you. You had done everything you could. You knew that. But the ghosts of "what if" still lingered.

You stood near the small coffee machine, fingers loosely curled around a cooling mug. You hadn't taken a sip. You weren’t sure how long you’d been standing there, staring blankly at the darkness outside the window, your mind replaying every decision, every clue, every missed sign. Searching for something—anything—you could have done differently.

"Hi."

The quiet voice pulled you from the fog of your thoughts, and you turned slightly, blinking as Spencer stood beside you. He wasn’t looking at you, not directly, but instead at the untouched coffee in your hands. His own fingers fidgeted at his sides—an unconscious habit of his, one you’d come to recognize over time.

"You haven’t had a sip." His voice was soft, careful.

You exhaled a small, humorless breath. "Didn’t really feel like it."

Spencer nodded, his eyes flicking up to meet yours for just a moment before settling on the floor. "It was a hard case."

You swallowed against the lump forming in your throat and nodded. "They’re all hard."

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice quieter now. "But some of them stay with you longer than others."

A heavy silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken thoughts. You knew Spencer understood.

Maybe better than anyone.

"I keep thinking about what we missed," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "If we had just caught something sooner, maybe they—"

"You can’t do that to yourself," Spencer interrupted gently. "We did everything we could. You did everything you could."

You wanted to believe that. Needed to. But the doubt still clung to you, stubborn and unrelenting.

Spencer hesitated for a second before shifting closer, his fingers brushing lightly against yours where they gripped the mug. It was the smallest touch, barely there, but enough to comfort you for a second. Enough to remind you that you weren’t alone in this.

"Come sit with me?" he asked, his voice almost hesitant.

For a moment, you considered saying no, retreating back into the safety of your solitude. But the exhaustion in Spencer’s eyes mirrored your own, and you realized—maybe you weren’t the only one who needed this.

You sat down next to each other on the couch, your body sinking into the plush seat with a quiet sigh. Spencer sat beside you, close enough that you could feel his warmth, but not quite touching.

Your arm rested along the back of the couch, fingers absentmindedly tracing the fabric as you stared ahead. Spencer remained silent for a moment, as if carefully considering his words.

"You know," he started, his voice barely above a murmur, "statistically, most law enforcement professionals experience some level of post-case guilt, even when they’ve done everything right. It’s—" he hesitated, then continued more softly, "it’s normal to feel like this."

You huffed a quiet breath. "That doesn’t make it any easier."

"No," he admitted. "It doesn’t."

There was another pause, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

"But…" Spencer shifted slightly, his knee brushing against yours. "It helps to remember that what we do matters. Even when it doesn’t feel like enough. Even when it hurts." He glanced at you then, his brown eyes searching yours. "Because if we weren’t there—if you weren’t there—it would be worse. And that has to mean something."

Something in your chest tightened at his words. Spencer wasn’t one for empty reassurances. He never said things just to say them. So you knew, without a doubt, that he meant every word.

You let out a slow breath, your body finally allowing itself to release some of the tension you’d been holding. Without thinking too much about it, you shifted closer, resting your head against his shoulder.

For a moment, he tensed, just slightly, like he wasn’t expecting it. But then, just as quickly, he relaxed. You felt him tilt his head, the warmth of his cheek resting lightly against your hair.

Neither of you spoke. There was nothing more that needed to be said.

The hum of the jet and the rhythm of his breathing all of it lulled you into a drowsy calm. And as your eyelids fluttered closed, the last thing you felt was Spencer’s fingers ghosting over your arm in the lightest touch.

Across the cabin, Derek and Emily sat across from each other, a deck of playing cards scattered between them on the table. The game had lost its appeal somewhere around the third round, both of them too drained from the case to focus, but neither ready to sleep just yet.

It was Emily who noticed first. She had been mid-sip of her coffee when her gaze drifted toward the couch, and her eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. Nudging Derek’s foot under the table, she tilted her head in their direction.

Derek followed her gaze, and a slow grin spread across his face.

"Well, well," he murmured, leaning back in his seat. "Would you look at that?"

Emily smirked, setting her mug down. "About time, don’t you think?"

Spencer and you were curled together on the small jet couch, your head tucked against his shoulder, his resting gently against yours. His arm had shifted somewhere during the flight, now draped lightly along the back of the seat, fingers barely brushing against your shoulder in sleep.

And for the first time all night, you both looked… peaceful.

Derek shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I knew Pretty Boy had it in him. Took him long enough, though."

Emily chuckled, crossing her arms. "We should let them sleep. I think they both needed it."

"Yeah, yeah," Derek said, waving a hand. But the teasing glint in his eye remained. "Doesn’t mean I won’t bring this up later."

Just then, a shadow shifted in the doorway.

Aaron Hotchner stood near the back of the cabin, watching the two of you with something almost unnoticeable softening his usually serious expression.

Emily and Derek exchanged a glance before Derek leaned forward, keeping his voice low. "So, what do you think, Hotch? Should we start taking bets?"

Hotch exhaled a quiet breath, shaking his head. His gaze flickered back toward you and Spencer, and for a moment, something warm crossed his expression. A quiet kind of approval.

Without another word, Hotch turned, making his way toward his seat.

Emily smirked, leaning toward Derek. "That’s a yes on the betting pool, by the way."

Derek let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as they settled back into their seats.

And on the couch, nestled against Spencer, you slept on—blissfully unaware of the knowing smiles around you.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst

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velvetsainz · 9 months ago

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summary: [ cs55, cl16, mv1, lh44, fa14, sv5, dr3, mwebber, jb22 x fem!reader ] three major kinks + a couple minor kinks for each driver

word count: 1.8k

content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), pwp; i'm not going to tag all of these bc that would take 5ever BUT 1) everything is consensual & in the setting of a happy, healthy relationship & 2) dm me if you are needing any specific tw's/cw's & i'll be happy to share those!

a/n: it's been a hot, hot minute since i've had the energy to write (i was busy surviving my surgery core rotation at a level 1 trauma center & pediatrics at a major children's hospital), but i've been brewing up a lil something for awhile now! i was stalling out on writing the last part of corsica, so i figured i'd at least give you this to get the juices flowing again! i started this blog about six months ago, & i'm nearly at 500 followers & i wanted to take a moment to thank you all! i love you so much and i hope you enjoy this! these are the kinks i think each of these drivers has! what proof do i have, you ask? absolute fuck-all! enjoy, loves! xx

creampie + breeding kink — he’s a family man & lord knows how badly he wants his own. he’s possessive, too, & this sates both of those desires well for him. he’s always whispering something in your ear, hand low on your belly about how good you’d look carrying his babies. and once you’re actually pregnant? sweet jesus, he’s never taking his hands off of you.

shower sex — he’s talked a number of times about how he’ll shower multiple times a day, and something tells me he’d never object to a partner. more than once he’s had you against the tiled walls until the water ran cold and your teeth were chattering. he’d then proceed to take it upon himself to warm you up again, ever the gentleman.

post-workout sex — there’s something about the way you look, out of breath & drenched in sweat that sends all the blood in his body rushing to his cock. you’re trying to push him away, afraid that you’re just too gross, but this man does not give a single fuck. he adores you in all your sweaty, sticky glory & is on you the second you make it back from your class, peeling you out of your leggings and wrangling your too-tight sports bra over your head. and it goes the other way as well: his favorite workout cooldown is fucking you senseless; there’s something deeply primal about the exertion of a workout that clouds his head with only thoughts of you, out of breath & on the brink of orgasm.

minor kinks | hair pulling — rough sex — cockwarming — pussy worship — possessiveness — soft dom — teasing — dirty talk

praise kink — he’s a talker in bed, and that means that he’s telling you just how delicious the tight clutch of your velvet walls feels around his cock. one language is not enough to tell you all the ways you make him feel, how good you are, how badly he’s wanted you. it certainly doesn’t hurt when you reciprocate, but the sounds he’s able to work out of you are often enough for him.

vanilla sex — listen: it’s no secret that this man is a romantic, and there are few things as romantic as good ole vanilla sex. sure, some spice is nice every once in a while, but he doesn’t need it to get his rocks off. he’s too caught up in the romance of it all—the tangle of limbs, skin pressed against skin, stuttering breaths, and stammering hearts—to want anything else. all he needs is you.

kissing — similar as above, charles is a sucker for romance, and a good makeout sess is just the right thing to get him hot and bothered. he’s very talented with languages, and his mastery of his tongue doesn’t end with words. *wink wink*

minor kinks | oral sex (giving + receiving) — creampie — cowgirl — bathtub sex — breathplay

mutually drunk sex — no matter how much he loves a club scene, he’d always find himself back in your arms. happy, sloppy, messy sex. as much as he loves a g&t, he loves the taste of you more.

wax play — we’ve seen the clips. he likes dripping the wax just as much as he likes being dripped on, and every time you go to light a candle his eyes get that hungry look like he could devour you whole; you’ve learned how to use this to your advantage.

dirty talk + praise kink — as we all know, this man is a certified YAPPER. and, unsurprisingly, that extends to the bedroom, too. always groaning, grunting, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, there’s very little that leaves him truly speechless; you’ll always know exactly how he feels when you're riding his cock or taking him deep in your throat, whether that’s in dutch, english, or the french he’s been trying to practice. and, given his upbringing, he lives for the praises that fall past your lips; he aims to please, and your sweet words are all the motivation he needs.

minor kinks | restraints (giving + receiving) — spanking — threesomes — nipple play — sensory play

massage — he takes great pride in his physique, and he thinks every inch of you is perfect. he loves watching all the tension leave your body. with such limited time in his busy, busy life, he thrives on the time he gets to spend with you; few things can compete with the peace, intimacy, and pleasure that comes from the feeling of your hands working over the tight muscles of his back and legs. and if they happen to wander somewhere else? well, what a happy accident that would be!

fingering — if there’s one thing lewis knows, it’s that a man’s most important tool isn’t the one between his legs. he loves all the ways in which you unravel for him, your back pressed against his chest with your legs draped over his own to keep them open. he’ll play with you like that for hours if he could, unlacing your composure until you're boneless and melting into him with every touch. (also, dear god, have you seen his hands? female gaze bait of the highest form.)

the lingerie stays on — there’s a litany of pick-up lines about clothes, etc. looking good on you but better on their floor, and a one mr. hamilton disagrees with that sentiment; we know well how he appreciates fine garments, and he loves them even more when you’re wearing them. he’s most certainly one to spoil his partner, and if he’s going to buy you that agent provocateur set, you can bet he wants to see you in it.

minor kinks | soft dom — cowgirl — voyeurism — intimacy — dirty talk — shower sex — pillowtalk

face riding — why do you think he takes so much pride in his neck strength? and even when you’re squirming away from overstimulation, he’s more than able to hold you in place by hooking his toned biceps over your shaking thighs. he’s a menace, but he never leaves a partner wanting for more.

wearing his clothes — okay, this one isn’t original in the slightest because i simply cannot get this blurb by @folkloresthings out of my head. nando would keel over at the sight of you in his clothes, especially if there was a particular lack of certain undergarments. he’d pull you in by the excess material and have you right there if feasible.

anal sex — all the nando fuckers know that he’s a little freaky—can i get an amen? that being said, his experience goes a long way in helping his partner get the most out of it and making it a pleasurable experience for all parties. he’d take his time working you open, pairing it with leg-shaking orgasms to wash away any doubts in your mind. it’s a new sensation, but a welcome one at that.

minor kinks | swallowing / facials — teasing — spanking — rough sex — sloppy sex — aftercare

teasing — a tyrant on the track and one in the bedroom as well. or in the car. or at a dinner with a few too many pairs of eyes. regardless, being a tease is his favorite above all else despite his own inability to handle a healthy dose of his own medicine.

overstimulation — this more or less goes hand-in-hand with his teasing, but he loves the way you beg when you’re coming down from one high and coasting right into another. “just one more, liebling” or “you’ve got another one, don’t you, schatz?” or “i know you can take it, kleiner hase” before making your vision go white as he wrings another orgasm from you.

morning sex — but, above all else, sebastian is a lover, and few things are quite as intimate as slow, fumbling, half-awake morning sex where you’re mumbling praises and communicating in soft, hushed sounds of pleasure. chasing sensations and desires before your mind is even fully awake takes a strong, trusting bond, and he prides himself on this with his partner.

minor kinks | cockwarming — spanking — mutual masturbation — toys — soft restraints (giving + receiving) — creampie / breeding — praise kink — dirty talk

cowgirl — this man & his obsession w/ texas—need i say more? how does that saying go, again? “save a horse…”

photos/sextape — daniel3.jpg would like a word. he’s obsessed with this new medium, and what’s a better way to remember a spicy moment than on film? plus, when you’re traveling 200-plus days a year, you need a way to bring a piece of home with you however you can, whether that’s watching you fall apart while arching your back as he grips your shoulder tight or taking him into the back of your throat as you look up at him through damp lashes or riding his cock or or arching your back as he grips your shoulder tight…you get the picture.

threesomes — considering the way that everyone fawns over him on the grid, this man could so easily work himself into some surprising pairings. his love language is physical touch and he’s not afraid to share it. that, combined with his competitiveness and desire to please, turns into a dangerous desire for him to see you fucked out and overwhelmed by your own need for more.

minor kinks | mirror sex — dirty talk — thigh riding — facefucking — rough sex — hair pulling

rough sex — aussie grit. there’s nothing else i need to say other than he’s a wild ride.

aftercare — any rough lover worth their prowess, though, knows the importance of aftercare, and mark is no different in that regard. he takes it very seriously and is always checking in afterward to make sure you enjoyed yourself as much as he did, peppering you in sweet kisses and warm embraces.

pussy worship — we’ve all seen the clip, right? this man knows how to eat pussy and he’s damn good at it. better yet—he loves doing it. you’d practically have to pry him off you from the overstimulation, his tongue, lips, and teeth finding alllll the right ways to make you fall apart.

minor kinks | cockwarming — spanking — possessiveness — massage — swallowing / facials

exhibitionism + voyeurism — the grid slag. he’s confident about his body and his abilities, and he’s not afraid to share. he’s not overly possessive and an unabashed hedonist to boot, so this pairing works perfectly to get his rocks off (and hopefully yours, too). he’s a little freak, and he’s not afraid to let it show!

spanking — when you’re especially mouthy (frequently to get these exact reactions) and he’s a little bold, jenson is partial to taking you over his knee and seeing how long you can keep up the act before you’re a whimpering mess. frequently this ends with him literally kissing your ass, two fingers buried knuckle deep in your dripping cunt while another toys with your too-sensitive clit.

brattiness — again, like above, he loves when you backtalk or drag your heels on him, making him work for your pleasure and, on some nights, your submission. (though, he’s not afraid to admit how fucking hot he finds it when you take control, using him for your pleasure and taking what you need. all that matters to him is raw, messy, dirty fun.)

minor kinks | threesomes — begging — degradation kink (giving + receiving) — nipple play — oral sex (giving + receiving) — toys

final note: that's all, folks! now what do you think? let me know! 🤍 as always, you can follow my writing sideblog @velvetsainz-writes where i reblog inspo & recs!

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hauntedhowlett-writes · 1 year ago

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𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit

word count: 4.1k

summary: joel agrees to go out to tommy’s favorite bar, where he watches you ride a mechanical bull and wishes you would ride him.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, no defined reader age or physical appearance besides outfits, alcohol use, joel getting slapped, tommy is a little shit, first date anxiety, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, praise, pet names, girl on top, couch sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, deep throating, more men whimpering and begging 2k23. let me know if any warnings are missing!

author’s note: look, i know i’m in the middle of my spooky specials but i saw two very specific tik toks that left me with the need to write this 😵‍💫 also this post layout is inspired by @bits-and-babs, whose works and aesthetic are chef’s kiss.

“Why did you pick this place?” Joel grumbles, hand wrapped around a sweating bottle of beer. People keep jostling him as they squeeze past, forcing him to keep his elbow tight to his side to avoid having his beer be collateral damage.

“You’ll see,” Tommy says with a cryptic wink. Joel rolls his eyes.

Tommy has dragged him out to a saloon style bar, complete with swinging wooden doors and longhorn skulls decorating the walls. Everything is shiny dark wood and western motif, down to the saddle style barstools. Most of the patrons have leaned into the theme, too — tassels, leather, cowboys hats, and ostentatious belt buckles.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen!” A man’s voice calls out over the speakers. “The show is about to begin!”

“Show?” Joel asks dubiously. Tommy only grins at him, dragging him by the arm towards the back of the bar.

He weaves through the crowd until they’re only behind a few rows of people that have gathered around a mechanical bull riding ring, of all things. The floor of the ring is inflatable and in the middle sits the brown bull figure. Joel catches his first glimpse of you, a gorgeous woman in denim cut offs standing beside the bull. Your black leather halter top plunges low to expose your cleavage and stops short of the waist of your shorts, a tantalizing strip of your stomach on display. The black leather of the top matches your black leather boots and the cuffs snapped around your wrists.

“One of Salty Saloon’s very own has stepped up to take the bull by the horns tonight!”

You lift a hand to wave, bright smile on your face as you take in the crowd. Your eyes land on Joel and for a brief moment he swears he stops breathing. He can’t hear anything the emcee is saying, all the noise around him just a dull buzz as he watches you swing yourself up onto the back of the bull.

“Alright, alright, alright! Our rider’s goal is to stay on for one minute using only one hand! If she falls before the buzzer, y’all get nothin’. But if she makes it, shots are half off for the rest of the night!”

A cacophony of cheers erupts around Joel and you straighten your spine, holding your hand out with a thumbs up. The music starts, some pop song he’s heard on the radio in the morning when he’s taking Sarah to school, and the mechanical bull turns in a slow circle. You have one hand twisted in a leather strap, the other raised above your head as the bull bucks and swings, your hips moving smoothly with the machine.

“Goddamn,” someone says from behind Joel. “I ain’t ever wanted to be a bull so bad in my life.”

Me, too, he thinks.

Your thighs press tight against the sides of the bull as it swings around, turning you to face the section of crowd Joel stands in. You release the hand grip, both hands in the air now as you rely solely on your legs and core to keep you up on the machine. When the machine turns again, you manage to lift your body and swing your legs around to reverse your position, now seated facing the back of the bull.

“Alright, ten more seconds!” The emcee calls out. The crowd starts to cheer your name and Joel can’t help but join in, eyes glued to you as you continue to swing and sway like all the movements are nothing but second nature to you.

“Three! Two! One!”

A cowbell goes off, signaling the end of your ride. The bull slows to a stop and you sit there for a moment to catch your breath, waving at the crowd. The bar owner, Johnny, comes out onto the crash pad with a huge grin on his face.

“Great job up there, kid. Now go sell some half priced shots,” he says with a good natured pat on your shoulder.

You return to the bar, where the other two bartenders scheduled tonight field the after-show rush, lining up shot glasses and filling them in quick succession with the requested liquor. When you get behind the bar, a familiar head of curly hair catches your eye.

“Tommy!” You call, excited to see one of you favorite regulars. He shouts your name as you stop in front of him.

“This is my brother, Joel!” He says, slapping the back of the man beside him. You’d seen him in the crowd, a handsome guy with broad shoulders stretching a dark blue t-shirt, warm tan skin, and messy curls that speak to the family resemblance between him and Tommy. You reach a hand across the bar, Joel’s calloused fingers dragging against your palm as you greet the man.

“It’s nice to meet you, Joel. Can I get y’all anything?” You ask. Tommy grins.

“Let me get this man a slap shot!” He yells.

You glance at Joel. “That okay with you?” You ask.

His eyes are comically wide as he nods. You step back to ring the bell behind the bar, your fellow bartenders whooping and cheering, a chant of “SLAP SHOT! SLAP SHOT!” echoing around you.

Haley sets a glass of water on the bar for you and you grab a pint glass, filling it with ice and two ounces of Jim Beam and amaretto. You smack the steel shaker on top, grabbing both glasses and shaking them vigorously over your shoulder.

You strain the contents of the shaker into a shot glass, amber liquid flowing to the brim. When you’ve got everything ready, you leave the back of the bar and squeeze your way through the crowd until you’re in front of the two brothers and can hoist yourself up onto the bar.

“Alright, Joel, are you ready?” You shout. He looks a little confused, brows pinched tight over kind brown eyes, but he nods anyway, holding his hand out for the shot glass. Tommy watches with a shit eating grin. “Three! Two! One!”

Joel takes the shot and you follow it with a glass of water to his face and a slap across his jaw in quick succession. Tommy is howling with laughter and Joel’s face is one of pure shock, red blooming across the skin of his cheek. He turns to his brother.

“Tommy, what the fuck!” Joel shouts. His hand wraps into the neck of Tommy’s shirt. “You little fuckin’ shit!”

You have the sinking realization that Joel wasn’t prepared for what a slap shot entails. You had just assumed this was something Tommy had told him about, having been to the bar so much the last few months.

Joel looks mad as hell, his shoulders tense and you worry he may actually throw a punch at Tommy. You hop from the bar and get between the two men, pressing a hand to their chests and pushing them apart.

"You, come with me," you say, pointing to Joel. "And you," -- you jab a finger into Tommy's chest -- "are on my shit list."

You take Joel by the hand and guide him to the back office, shutting the door and muffling the noises of the bar beyond it. His face is still dripping wet and the water dripping from his chin has gathered into a sizeable spot on the collar of his shirt.

"I am so, so sorry," you start, rifling through the storage cabinet for a bar towel. You hold it out to him, avoiding his gaze. "Tommy comes here so much that I just thought he'd told you about what a slap shot was. I should have told you, oh my god."

"Hey, it's okay. I ain't mad at you," Joel says, running the towel over his damp face. "Tommy, though. I'm gonna kick his fuckin' ass later."

"Still," you mumble, twisting your hands together nervously. "I'm sorry. Is your cheek okay?"

He rubs the towel over his head to dry his hair a bit, the action leaving him adorable mussed, curly strands sticking up in every direction. You're staring at him, maybe a little too much, but who can blame you? The man is hot.

"Yeah, trust me. I've had worse," Joel replies with a laugh.

"You get slapped by women often?" You tease.

"The number of times ain't just one."

"Oh, a bad boy. Mama warned me about guys like you."

He laughs again, long and low, running a hand through his hair. "Well, thank you for the towel."

"Right. And your next drink is on me. As an apology," you tell him.

"I'd rather get your number," he says. "You know, as an apology."

You raise your eyebrows at him before turning to the manager's desk, grabbing a marker and tugging the cap off with your teeth. You slide a hand down his arm, lifting his forearm up so that you can write down your number across the smooth, tan skin.

"I'm off next weekend," you comment when you've recapped the marker.

"I'll keep that in mind," Joel replies with a grin.

Joel's nervous as he waits outside of your apartment building in his truck, fingers tapping a nameless tune against the steering wheel. It's Saturday night and he's here to pick you up for dinner at a restaurant in downtown Austin, one that required he dig out the old black button down he keeps shoved in the back of his closet for parent-teacher conferences and funerals.

The front door to your building opens and you emerge, dressed in a pretty red wrap dress and black heels. Joel gets out of the truck and jogs around to the passenger side to open the door for you and he's surprised when you lean up and kiss him on the cheek.

"Hey," you say in greeting, climbing into the truck and settling into the passenger seat, your purse on your lap. Joel can't help the dopey grin that's surely stretched across his face.

“Hey, yourself. You look nice,” he replies. He shuts the door and jogs around the the driver’s side.

“You don’t look so bad either,” you tell him as he starts the truck up. He can feel his cheeks get warm and he hopes that you can’t see him the proof of his nerves in the dark cab.

At the restaurant, the host leads you both to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, pristine white tablecloth topped with a small vase of flowers and a flickering votive candle. A waiter in a white button down comes by to take your drink orders before disappearing the the kitchen, leaving the two of you regarding each other in silence.

“Look, I gotta be honest about somethin’,” Joel says, leg bouncing beneath the table. “I’ve got a kid. Sarah, she’s thirteen. Light of my life, you know?” He takes a deep breath before finishing with, “And I don’t think I’ve even been on a date since she’s been born, so this is just…a little new to me.”

“You have a kid?” You ask. For a moment Joel worries that he may have ended this before it could even get a chance to begin, but then your face lights up with a sweet smile and you ask, “Will you tell me about her?”

Joel does. In between ordering and eating your delicious meals, you and Joel discuss anything and everything. He tells you about Sarah and his contracting work, while you tell him about your full time job as a pharmacy technician, the gig at the bar a part time thing on some weekends. He nearly makes you snort your water out of your nose with a story about rescuing Tommy from the bathroom of the girl he’d been seeing when her long distance boyfriend, who Tommy didn’t know existed, showed up at her apartment.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim breathlessly. “And he just jumped out of the bathroom window?”

“To be fair, she had a first floor unit,” Joel confirms. “His royal pain in the ass still made me take him to urgent care because he thought he broke his ankle.”

“You’re a good brother,” you say with a smile. Joel feels the warmth of it in his veins.

After dinner, the ride back to your place is quiet, the comfortable silence filled with the low music from the radio. In a moment of bravery, Joel reaches over and lays a hand on your low thigh, just above your knee as he drives. He refuses to look over at you, but from the corner of his eye he sees you look down at his hand before looking back out the window.

He counts that as a win.

He pulls up the curb outside your apartment and kills the engine. You speak before he has a chance to agonize over what to say.

“Will you walk me to my door?” You ask.

He feels relief and anxiety in one fell swoop. He agonizes internally over whether to kiss you goodnight as he follows you up the stairs to your apartment, the buzzing in his brain momentarily silenced while he watches your hips sway as you climb the steps.

You stop on the second floor, guiding him down a long hallway to a door marked with a black metal number three. You turn to face him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“This is me,” you murmur. Joel swallows nervously.

“Right. I, uh…I had a really great time tonight,” he says.

“Would you…want to come inside?”

Joel’s brain short circuits. “Would I—? Yeah.”

You turn to unlock the door, pushing into your apartment and Joel follows you inside. The apartment is dark but you quickly turn on the lights as you move further inside, illuminating an open living room with a dining nook. There’s a door off to the right that he assumes is your bedroom and an open kitchen to the left. It’s small, but it’s cozy, bursting with colors and fabrics and mismatched furniture.

“Well, this is home,” you say with a shrug. You set your purse down on the small circular dining table. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got beer, some liquor on the bar cart over there if you want to have a look.”

“Beer is fine,” Joel says, taking a seat on the comfy looking couch. You return with a bottle of beer, passing it to him before settling in beside him, kicking off your heels and drawing your legs up beneath you.

He takes a sip, fortifying his nerves. He wasn’t lying when he said it’s been a long time since he’s been on a date, but even sex has been a distant thought for the last year or so. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

“So,” you start, your elbow pressed into the back couch cushion while you lean your face into the palm of your hand. “You wanna know what I think?”

“‘Bout what?” Joel asks.

“You.”

“You got a report card ready for me already?”

“I think” — you take the beer bottle from his hand, setting it on the coffee table — “you’ve spent a long time being a caretaker. Right? You’ve got Tommy, who was already a handful. Your daughter, who’s obviously priority number one. You’ve got a business to worry about, workers to care for.” You shuffle closer on your knees, swinging a leg over his and settling yourself onto his lap. “This okay?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he replies, probably a bit too enthusiastically. His fingers curl into the couch cushions and he wants to reach up to wrap his hands around your waist but he’s not sure if he should.

You play with the collar of his shirt. “What do you think about having someone take care of you for a change?”

Joel’s stomach flips, cock jumping in interest as the blood in his brain rushes south and leaves him only capable of responding with a mumbled, “Oh?”

“I just think you deserve someone treating you real nice,” you say with a shrug. Deft fingers work at undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Especially when I was so mean when we met, slapping you across the face like I did.”

“Told you not to worry ‘bout that,” he replies, head dropping against the back cushions. “S’not like I didn’t like it.”

“You like to be roughed up a little, Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe.”

Your grin is wicked as you drag your nails down the now exposed skin of his chest. He hisses at the sting of it.

“Interesting,” you murmur. You lean close, chest pressed against his, hands coming up to frame his face. Your nails scratch through his beard now and he groans his appreciation.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. “Please?”

You respond by pressing your lips to his, chaste as first. Your mouths move together slowly, feeling each other out. It’s you that takes it deeper, tracing your tongue over his bottom lip and dipping it inside to tangle with his. He wraps his arms around your low back, holding you tightly in his lap as he consumes you, drunk on the feeling of your breath in his lungs.

You drags yours lips away from his with a slick sound, trailing them along his jaw and towards his ear. You nip at his earlobe, teeth gentle and breath hot before whispering, “Can I suck your cock, Joel?”

A whimper claws it’s way up Joel’s throat as he nods, already unable to form words. He’s no stranger to turning into a puddle for a pretty woman but he’s certain this must be a new record.

You slip from his lap and kneel on the floor, pushing his legs apart so that you can settle in between them. Your hands reach for his belt, tugging on the buckle and pulling it loose so that you can pop the button of his jeans and tug the zipper down, the metallic sound loud in the quiet room.

Your fingers curl into the waist of his jeans and Joel lifts his hips a bit to aid you in tugging them halfway down his thighs. His cock tents his boxers in an obscene way, a wet spot already staining the fabric. You run your palms up his thighs before bracketing his member between your hands, lightly running your thumbs up his length.

“Christ,” Joel says, teeth digging into his lip.

“That feel good?” You ask.

“Uh huh.”

You smile beatifically before leaning forward, warm breath on his covered cock as you press gentle kisses through the fabric. Joel’s hips twitch and he lets out a deep groan.

You tug the elastic of his boxers over his length, tucking it beneath his balls. He’s practically vibrating with need but you continue to take your sweet time, pressing more kisses along his shaft, tracing the tip of your tongue over the prominent vein.

“You have a pretty cock, Joel,” you say, wrapping your hand around the base of him to hold him steady. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t want to miss the sight of your tongue lapping at the bead of precum gathered on his flushed tip, or the way your own eyes flutter shut as you let out a little moan of appreciation.

You wrap your lips around his cock, taking him inch by agonizing inch into your warm mouth and Joel feels any semblance of sanity disappear from his lust clouded brain. Your eyes stay fixed on him as take him in as far as you can, throat fluttering around the sensitive head when you swallow before pulling up, twirling your tongue around the tip, and plunging back down.

“Christ,” Joel groans, reaching out to cup your cheek. “You look so goddamn good like that.”

You lift off his cock and take it in your hand, moving it across your lips as you ask, “Like what?”

“Chokin’ on my cock, sweetheart,” he growls.

“That was nothing.”

Joel’s about to ask what you mean when you lower your mouth over his length once more. He can feel you flatten your tongue, your throat and jaw relaxing enough to take him to the very base, your nose tickling the wiry curls on his pelvis. He moans as you swallow around him, breathing through your nose and holding yourself there for a moment before coming up with a gasp, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes and spit making your chin shiny in the low light.

“So…I could keep doing this,” you tell him, “or…”

“Or?” He asks.

“Or…you could let me make us both feel good.”

You stand up, your hands untying the knot that holds your dress together so you can push it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. You push your panties down your legs and unhook your bra, leaving you gloriously naked in front him, every inch of you like a piece of art meant to be admired. Joel’s hands, greedy and unfulfilled up until now, reach up to grip your hips and pull you onto his lap, your pussy hot and wet against his cock. He lets his hands wander over every inch of exposed skin, relishing the way your ass fits in his palms and the way you hiss when his thumb caresses a tight nipple.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he moans, his lips against your rapid pulse, teeth ghosting the thin skin of your neck. “Need you so bad, baby.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” you whisper, reaching between your bodies to hold his throbbing cock steady, notching it at your soaked entrance and beginning a slow slide down.

Joel is panting against your sweat slick chest, mumbling desperate words into your skin as you take him inside of you as slowly as you can, thighs burning with the effort. When you’ve finally seated yourself on his lap, his head drops back to the cushion, eyes squeezed shut tightly and fingers nearly bruising on your thighs.

“Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move,” he begs. “Oh, fuck, feels so good.”

Where he’s desperate for you to stay still, you’re already desperate to move. His cock is perfect, thick and long with a slight upward curve, pressing up against your g-spot with stunning accuracy. You’re certain this won’t last long for either of you.

You rock slowly, forward and back, little movements of your hips. Joel lifts his head, looking down at where your bodies are connected with dark eyes. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your fingers in his hair and giving it a sharp tug that has him hissing your name.

You start to move more quickly, rolling your body in smooth waves over his. He’s panting as he looks up at you, sweat gathering at his temple, and his hands grip your ass and follow your movement reverently.

“So fuckin’ good,” he moans, “you’re gonna make me come, baby, goddamn.”

You speed up, bouncing on his lap now. Your couch creaks the slightest bit, protesting your movements, but you don’t care — all you care about is the man beneath you and the desperate little noises spilling from his lips as you make good on your promise to take care of him.

“Touch me,” you command. “I’m so close, Joel, please.”

He’s a good listener, your Joel, his thumb immediately finding your clit and circling it with messy movements that drive you wild, that tension in your muscles coiling tighter. Joel’s hips flex into yours with each drop down his length, the room echoing with the lewd sounds of skin against skin and the chorus of whimpers that spill from both of you.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant. He wraps his arms around you, really thrusting into you now as your own movements falter and you collapse forward, head buried against his neck as you come, trembling with the strength of it.

It’s not long after that he goes still, cock pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks of your orgasm wash over you. You stay slumped against each other, catching your breaths and waiting for your racing hearts to come back down to earth.

“That was…,” Joel says with a breathless laugh that shakes his chest. His fingers play up and down your back, soothing and gentle. “Goddamn, that was amazin’.”

“Yeah?” You ask, lifting your head. You smooth his messy hair back from his forehead. “You weren’t so bad either.”

He nips at your neck in retaliation, making you laugh and squirm away from him.

“Do you have to get going?” You ask.

“No,” he replies. “Tommy’s watchin’ Sarah for me tonight. He owes me one. Besides, I’m ain’t done with you yet.”

“No?”

“Not even close, darlin’.”

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal character

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iraprince · 3 months ago

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INITIALIZING..... OSSUARY RELAY ACTIVE......CLEAR SOUL TETHER KNITTING......ERROR. RETRYING..... USER: [GLAIVE] NOT FOUND. CURRENT TETHER POINT: UNIDENTIFIED USER ACCESSING OCULAR FEED.....CLEAR ACCESSING AURICULAR FEED.....CLEAR [UNIDENTIFIED USER] "Omigod. Did that actually work?" [UNIDENTIFIED USER] "Omigod. Omigod. Did I just put a bunch of dead people in my eyeball. Oh, shit. Ohhhh. Fuck!"

xxx

necrotech99, an interactive quest, is now live! exact content warnings pending, but necrotech99 is 18+ and will likely contain nsfw and gore/body horror.

FAQ/quest primer for new readers below cut!

Q. ira this website fucking looks like 4chan A. yeah i know i'm sorry. it's not Q. okay so what is this A. it's a quest, which is kind of like an interactive webcomic, or like a forum game, or like a tabletop roleplay where everyone is controlling one character (at a time), or maybe like something completely different from that Q. how do i play? A. leave suggestions in the thread to help collectively guide the story with your fellow readers! suggestions are posted using this input field at the top of the thread page:

and, a final note on a quality of life thing that isn't very intuitive: all the quest's panels can be expanded to full size by either clicking "expand all images" at the top of the thread, or individually by clicking the blue .png hyperlink above each image, NOT clicking the images themselves (which just opens the images in a new tab for some reason)

#my art #my ocs #fractal quests #necrotech99

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clawsdevour · 2 months ago

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helpless

wc: 0.5k content warning: post-timeskip, established relationship, ushijima x reader, suggestive, not proofread

⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ ˚ ₊

startled when you heard a sigh of frustration from the corner of the room.

at his desk, the sliver of light from the window highlighting and defining his sharp but attractive features. ushijima's slaving away responding to his business emails and sponsorships, tapping away at his laptop profusely before taking a quick break.

his long thick fingers brush through his short brown hair, cut to pristine the way he liked it. his long lashes flutter as he blinks once, then twice, before rubbing his eyes.

his thick brows are furrowed as he tries to concentrate, obviously tired from trying to get back to all his emails amongst the spam that doubles his inbox.

rusting to get out of the linen covers and silently making your way to his desk, peering just above his broad shoulder to catch a glimpse of what he's looking at on his screen.

it's pitch black..?

in your deep dark reflection that mirrored him, his eyes gravitate towards you in the back before shutting off his laptop. he already felt your presence in the room, but having you in arms reach was even more comforting.

caught red-handed, ushijima swivels his chair around to face you body to body while his large arms pull your torso in closer towards his head's level. his olive eyes gazed at you from beneath, nose pressing between the fabric that covered your warm skin as you felt him breath in and out.

"you okay toshi?" reaching for his head of hair, you stroke while using your soft voice to coo at him.

feeling him just slightly nod in between your chest, you blushed before putting a bit of distance between you two.

ushijima's staring you down, questioning why you just disrupted the tension for a brief moment before he saw you get on your knees in front of him as you kept eye contact. he's lost in the moment, excited at what's to come, twitching in length.

your delicate fingers run along the seams of his growing bulge that suffocated his pants.

how long has it been since you did him a favor?

ushijima's impatient, holding his cool, he's been waiting for so long for this to happen again. he never asks, he only gives.

reaching into his waistband that held tightly onto his toned bod and under his boxers, your fingers are met with his swelling cock you pulled out.

it's like he tripled in size and it made you drool with sin. looking at it made you want it in your mouth this instant, just sucking on it like a lolipop. but no, you had to give him the whole package.

what a tease, using your fingertips to lightly graze over his size from bottom to top making him shiver with ecstasy. his intense stare lingered over you as you continued to endlessly tease him before you started to stroke ushijima off.

he is absolutely hopeless when it comes to you.

masterlist here

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dreamsicle262 · 12 days ago

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Dead Plate AU Information

This is a masterpost detailing my AUs for Dead Plate, which may soon become their own fanfics—if given enough time—since I plan on trying to write out a few. There's a lot of text so be warned: there's a long post underneath the cut. I tried to describe character designs when necessary because there's currently no images like character sheets/references yet. Hopefully I'll get there. This post might be edited if I have more AU ideas, or if I add pictures.

As a note beforehand, I do have a headcanon involving Vincent not having a sense of smell, since being able to taste goes hand in hand with being able to pick up on scents. If he can’t taste things, then he likely cannot smell anything either. This headcanon remains consistent with him in these universes, unless stated otherwise.

Vampire AU

Dead Plate, but Vincent is a vampire. That’s pretty much what this AU is.

At some point prior to the events of Dead Plate, Vincent got turned into a vampire. He has only been dealing with it for a short amount of time, and his fangs have been taking quite a while to grow in. He didn’t really think anything of it at first. He still couldn’t taste foods, his appetite generally remained low, and he usually didn’t experience hunger very strongly.

He does murder Manon still. It’s during this time that Vincent is suddenly aware that he’s able to smell blood. Naturally, he figures that if he can smell blood, then he might be able to taste it. However, he doesn’t drink any of Manon’s blood to test this; whatever she has to offer he’s not interested in. It’s at this point that his plans have changed, and figuring out if he can actually taste something aside from nothing at all becomes his main priority. The whole ‘cooking with love’ thing is put off to the side for the time being. This could be attributed to him being selfishly inclined.

It's only when Rody accidentally cuts open his finger the next day that things change, and he actually does take the opportunity he’s been given to taste test his blood. As expected, this is an awkward situation for the both of them afterwards.

I haven’t fully decided on where I’d like to go with this AU to make it any different from the main plot of Dead Plate, but maybe an incident happens during the dinner party or something. I’ll figure it out when I actually get to writing the potential fanfic for this one.

There are no design changes for this AU aside from me giving Vincent fangs. He looks normal otherwise, and his fangs aren’t visible when his mouth is closed. There’s general vampire lore that I use that’s different from what’s usually expected of vampires but that probably doesn’t need to be elaborated here. I’m always open to questions on my AUs for further clarification though.

Florist + butcher AU

Rody is a florist, and Vincent is a butcher.

Vincent wasn’t able to open up a restaurant in this AU, but was content with opening up a butcher shop instead, still providing quality service to his customers in the process. Despite his shop being popular, it isn’t as large as it could be. In order to not put as much pressure on himself, he does have a few employees managing the shop’s orders, which mostly consists of providing custom cuts of meat or preparing special deliveries since his business is still a fairly big deal. Vincent himself mostly deals with the actual butchering in the back, instead of serving customers directly. He’s very picky about where he sources his products from, only accepting offers from places with a track record of animals raised to be high quality. Sometimes, this makes his store’s selections limited, and because it takes time to get new shipments in occasionally due to the distance, the products rotate every two days. Vincent lives above his business.

Rody is a florist, having managed to open up a store by saving up enough money to rent out an available building right next to Vincent’s butcher shop. He did this in order to cope with his break up, and to hopefully impress Manon and get her back. Since he’s managed to start his own business, it’s working out for him, surprisingly. Even if his business is for her sake and not his, at least he’s making progress with some personal growth and success. Rody still has a few issues with sourcing his products if he can’t grow them himself, but is otherwise doing okay. It is due to this reason that he is unable to deliver flowers, and majority of his customers are walk-ins instead. The only exception is if they happen to live nearby and he can reach them that way with his bike. Some of the flowers he sells come from his rooftop garden, which is contained within a greenhouse so he doesn’t go out of business every winter. His new apartment is below this garden, but above his flower shop. It is still considerably messy, but he tries to make improvements where he can.

Manon never had a rebound with Vincent, and was only aware that Rody had opened up a flower shop when he happened to get an advertisement in the newspaper and she saw it. Since then, she has opted to stay in contact with him, and occasionally visits like she used to. She lives somewhat nearby both stores. Given how Rody is making personal progress instead of being too self-sacrificing for her, she’s been trying to encourage him to invest more into his business instead of worrying about her all the time. It’s worked a little bit so far. Sometimes, Rody gives her nice bouquets of flowers that have meanings behind them since he knows quite a lot about flower language now.

Plot-wise, Rody will be staying in his chosen location near Vincent's butcher shop until he has enough money to relocate, but during that time he will get to know Vincent more due to their close proximity to each other constantly. Vincent, while originally annoyed by Rody's presence, starts to become intrigued by him and wants him to stay just so he can observe him some more. Of course, this leads to problems when he catches wind that Rody will be leaving soon, and is later told by Rody himself that he'll soon be 'out of his hair' in another month or so.

In response to this, Vincent starts sabotaging Rody's business by messing with stuff regarding the building (electrical cables, etc etc) and killing off his most frequent customers in order to cook into meals for him as potential bribery to stay. All of this negatively impacts Rody's business, especially financially, so he has to remain where he is longer than expected. He doesn't even know that Vincent is killing his business (quite literally) right next to him.

Design-wise, Rody wears an outfit similar to his casual clothes, but with his shirt buttoned up. His undershirt is a faded mossy green. Over his shirt, he has a dark brown apron with small, white floral patterns embroidered at the bottom to make it more noticeable. He also has an upper left pocket in the apron that he uses to tuck one flower in every day. It is usually roses of varying colors, but can be other flowers that mean love as well. Sometimes, his hair is tied back in a small low ponytail.

Vincent's design remains relatively the same, save for a kind of yellowish apron that goes over his outfit as well, and a pair of black gloves. His apron used to be white, but, given the nature of his work, it ended up giving it a look similar to old and yellowed book pages. It definitely has a few stains on it, but that comes with the job.

Manon retains her usual design. Can't improve perfection.

Zombie apocalypse AU

I had the vague idea for this AU, and @dollsteaparty helped me out with some other bits.

This AU is after the Table for One ending.

The zombie apocalypse happens and Rody primarily remains in his apartment during the beginning of it. He doesn't dare leave, and he doesn't even bother to look outside. The prospect of it scares him shitless, and for good reason. However, at some point he starts running out of food, and he can really only think of one good place in order to stock up. This forces him to finally venture out of his safe haven of his apartment and go back to Vincent's restaurant.

Unfortunately, Vincent is undead by this time, and isn't in a very good shape. His mouth is all fucked up and generally looks kinda like that one doodle in the upper left corner of a page by one of the devs that looked like it was based on a game or something. To make matters worse, he regained his ability to taste when he got turned in the first place, but his jaw is weakened and he can't bite down as well as he'd like or move it as much as he wants to most of the time. He can taste just fine but can't eat well, which has the expected side effect of pissing him off greatly with how ironic it is. Other than that, he's pretty well put together as a zombie, aside from the obvious ravenous behavior and poor muscle control that comes with being one in general.

When Rody does find Vincent, he's in the freezer room, and while Rody is strong enough to hold him off, it quickly becomes annoying to have to do. Eventually he's able to come to a compromise with Vincent, since apparently he's able to be reasoned with even in his current condition. Rody stitches up the sides of Vincent's jaw to the best of his ability to make it look more normal, but his handiwork isn't the best since his hands were so shaky. He was just nervous about them being near Vincent's mouth and the possibility of being bitten that comes with that.

The two then enter a relationship of forced codependency due to Vincent wanting to reopen his bistro even though it's the apocalypse since he's dead set on continuing business as usual and he can finally taste food, and Rody needing a safer place to stay where there's a food supply available, not to mention weapons. In fact, Rody's return helps the restaurant reopen, since beforehand people were too scared to enter the place, and they didn't even know it was technically still functional. It's still clean and everything too, because there was no way in hell Vincent would let his bistro fall into ruin.

The place becomes tense neutral ground where no violence is permitted in the dining area, and people are advised to use their best manners. It's a fine dining establishment and they will act accordingly. Both alive and undead customers show up, but now there's a sign outside the bistro that has a set of rules that everyone has to abide by if they wish to live. Besides, Vincent is capable of either reasoning with or even outright threatening other undead people if they don't act nice to their living counterparts while inside or around his esteemed establishment.

No one can have their weapons out or in view, customers cannot fight amongst themselves, no one except for staff are allowed in the kitchen, don't ask about the screams coming from the freezer, no one is advised to make sudden movements like running (something about predator drive and sudden movements making even valued customers look like prey), no one is advised to send the meals back to the kitchen since they most likely don't want their scent on it (they'll be associated with the food and have to be killed anyways), and if anyone has a problem, they can take it up with Vincent personally in the freezer. True to his word, Vincent still doesn't serve human meat... to his human customers. Any undead customers will usually be consuming human meat in their dishes because they can actually appreciate it.

Rody is the only one allowed to serve the customers in the dining area because all of the cooks working for Vincent are also undead, with the exception of the one cook that was fired since they got rehired. They help to desensitize their undead coworkers to a human in their midst, and also are a familiar face, so they have a lower risk of getting attacked. The zombified cooks and their fear of Vincent overrides any instincts that they might have as zombies, so he's capable of keeping them in line and certainly isn't afraid to enforce his rules in the kitchen. Both Vincent and his employees are in a much better preserved condition than any zombies outside the establishment due to them having access to a functional freezer. Also, Vincent does still pay whoever works for him. Vincent's apartment just upstairs has largely not been used in awhile, so that is where Rody stays, along with people who are looking for a safe place to stay for only one night. Vincent gets oddly upset when there's guests and Rody has to stay with them, but he does know it's for the better. Rody is also responsible for going on resource runs for cleaning supplies or ingredients, and for also stitching up the cooks when necessary.

Speaking of the cooks, sometimes they are put in the freezer on meat hooks as a form of solitary confinement for messing up very badly. They look miserable through that window in the freezer room door and Rody can very clearly see them when this does occur. That one human cook isn't stabbed with the meat hook and is usually just tied to it instead. If Rody gets the same treatment, he is usually tied up and left to sit on the floor for awhile, but typically doesn't remain in there for long since he either has to serve customers or Vincent deems his expression too 'unpleasant to look at' and lets him go anyways.

Character designs aren't too different aside from Vincent looking a little messed up in regards to his jaw, and Rody looking a lot more unkempt.

I also don't know where I'm going with this AU and if I particularly want Rody to be zombified or not... but I did think about a scenario where that would happen, as a treat. He would be turned by Vincent personally if he was dying somehow, and he'd probably try to get to his heart to eat it first before Rody turns completely. Something about wanting to taste what love really tastes like since it's his heart... and for Rody, laying his heart bare (literally in this case) and being able to love in such a way that it practically seems like he's serving his heart on a platter. Very big fan of the character design and what it could mean or show about him. Also I think Rody should lose the ear he lost in the actual game too. Just because.

As for that one human cook, Vincent would probably just get another cook to make them into a zombie if they were on the verge of death. They're not worth his time.

Plushie platonic soulmate AU

(Disclaimer: I actually am not fond of soulmate AUs in the traditional sense (aka almost exclusively romantic in nature) so this is platonic. Vincent is aspec to me in some way to begin with, so there's that too.)

During his emotional turmoil following his break up, Rody receives a mysterious plushie at his doorstep that looks like someone he’s never met before. He doesn’t know who sent it. This plushie is Vincent, but Rody doesn’t really know that yet. He’s heard of him since he’s a world renowned chef, but he’s not very familiar with his appearance. Either way, he reluctantly decides to keep the plushie, before eventually discarding it after it keeps showing up in his kitchen despite him putting it on a shelf somewhere. Also, his utensils seem to move in different places every day, so it’s creeping him out. It’s during this time that he’s looking for a job, but doesn’t take up the opportunity to work for Vincent, and instead opts for a simple fast food job. The Vincent plushie keeps showing up despite Rody’s attempts to get rid of it, so he just gives up and lets it remain in his apartment. One day, he wakes up to a fresh lemon tart, but no evidence that it was baked using his kitchen, especially since he doesn’t even have the ingredients to make that dessert. Beside it is the plushie, sitting there innocently.

On the other side of things, Vincent also receives a plushie of Rody that appears in his apartment one day on his living room table. He simply discards it, uncaring of where it came from. However, it keeps appearing again and again and it’s frustrating him to no end. At some point, he mutilates it with one of his knives, then trashes it again. When it comes back just as new, he puts it in plastic packaging and tosses it out of his window into the alley. When it returns yet again, he finally gets so fed up that he shoves it into the oven and sets it on fire that way. The plushie ends up coming back again and Vincent just puts it on his desk in his room, unwilling to mess with it anymore. He has no idea who the plushie was supposed to be because he’s never seen anyone like that before in his bistro. On top of this being strange, he also feels the strange urge to hide this plushie from Manon, since he doesn’t want her knowing that he has this. It’s unnatural and out of character for him to have something like that when it doesn’t serve any real purpose.

At some point, Rody and Vincent get to find the other person with their plushie counterpart and are both left thoroughly confused as to what it could mean.

Character designs for this AU do not vary.

Vincent forced therapy AU

Funnily enough, this AU came to me in a dream with one vague scene, and then it just went from there after discussing it with @vinylbiohazard. It's also exactly what it sounds like.

This AU is set after the Best Served Hot ending.

Vincent somehow survives after his restaurant was set on fire, but does have severe burns and some blood loss. The only reason why he doesn’t have severe blood loss is because the wound on his neck was cauterized by the flames, so it ended up not bleeding as much anymore. There’s still the glass shards that needed to be dealt with, though, so he does still need medical attention. One of the luckiest factors in this is how his restaurant was running out of cooking oil anyways, which is one of the reasons why he was even able to get out in the first place before his exits were blocked off.

Whenever the information of his bistro burning down becomes public, the general assumption of what happened is that he had been drunk, suddenly ‘snapped,’ and then tried to commit suicide while also taking his business with him. Essentially, his life is ruined, because he doesn’t seem too stable to the general population, and the media is having a field day with headlines. He does end up in the hospital trying to recover, and he’s not permitted to speak much for a while so his neck can heal. He technically still can since his vocal cords weren’t damaged, but it’s best that he doesn’t talk for some time. His neck is still in bad shape, but it could have been worse; the wine bottle that he was stabbed with narrowly missed the major veins and arteries in that area. By the end of everything, he does heal enough to look relatively normal, aside from the burns and scar tissue.

During this time, Rody is laying low at his apartment. He never comes out with the truth regarding his missing ear, and everyone just assumes that he lost it in an unrelated accident for being clumsy. While he would ideally like to stay away from the food industry, he does end up finding another job at a fast food place. When he learns that Vincent is still alive, he’s initially still upset, but since he’s had some time to cool down following the incident, he mostly just feels horrible. After all, he had expressed some concern about Vincent losing everything if something were to happen to his business. While not ready to approach him about it in the direct aftermath, Rody decides that he will try to talk it out with him at a later date.

As it gets closer to the day where Vincent can be released from the hospital, Rody shows up to talk to him, or, more accurately, speak his mind. He can talk to him without being interrupted, so he’s taking his opportunity to explain why he was so upset and why he acted the way he did. Adrenaline and trying to make rational decisions don’t mix well. Vincent has to sit there and listen to Rody rant for a little bit, all while he’s still not supposed to speak. At some point a nurse asks if the two were friends or something, and Rody has to awkwardly go along with it and say yes. Vincent is probably grumbling to himself mentally as this occurs.

Unfortunately, since Vincent’s apartment was above his restaurant, he doesn’t have anywhere else to go but Rody’s apartment following being released from the hospital. Rody’s not too happy with it either, but he’ll manage. In fact, he’s the reason why Vincent even gets to go to therapy in the first place. He’s the one to suggest it.

Vincent keeps taking Rody’s knives in his apartment because he doesn’t use them, they’re sharp, and he’s been considering killing Rody off anyways from being forced to live with him for so long. He has to keep getting them confiscated by Rody due to this. Whenever he’s scheduled to have therapy, however, he brings at least three knives with him and keeps them hidden. He doesn’t actually get to take them into the room where he’s supposed to have a therapy session and he has to begrudgingly give them all back to Rody beforehand. He may have been fully intending on using them to murder the therapist. It doesn’t look good for him, but he essentially has a mentality similar to ‘I’ve lost everything so why does it matter what I do now?’, so he doesn’t care.

There are no design changes for Rody in this AU, but Vincent has a few. There’s scar tissue on the right side of his neck from being stabbed there, as well as burn scars. There’s additional burns on most of his upper torso and arms. Any other burns aren’t as major, and most of them on his body healed over. In the hospital, he had bandages on over these while they were still healing.

#dream's textposts🖋️#this took about a week in order to compile this information so reblogs are appreciated #you also have my full permission to make art of any of these AUs if you really want to as long as you credit me since these were my ideas #dead plate #dead plate rody #dead plate vincent #dead plate au #dead plate game #rody lamoree #vincent charbonneau #manon vacher #manon dead plate #dead plate manon #vincent dead plate #rody dead plate #studio investigrave #sigverse #there's so many tags dude....#please let this not flop #oh also thank you to everyone I talked to regarding these AUs because you really helped out a lot with the AU making process :3 #I loved putting ideas out there and having them be added onto as we had a conversation about it #Also if anything needs clarification or if you just want to know more about the AUs in general just ask #always happy to talk about them even though i should have most of the important info here (inquiries about small details are just as good)

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tswhiisftteedr · 1 year ago

Text

Wings ☆ Drabble/Really Short One Shot

☆ Adam x Wingless Angel!Fem!Reader :

They were just so pretty, you couldn’t help but touch your boyfriend’s beautiful golden wings. And hey, what was the worst that could happen’ probably nothing too bad, right?

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Praise & Degradation, Adam is a bit condescending and forceful, but hey, it’s Adam we’re talking about. Oral Sex(Female Receiving), Penetrative Sex, First Time As A Couple. NOT PROOFREAD.

Words: 2330

Ask: Hi! ^^ Omg I saw that your requests are open!! I have one for Adam from Hazbin Hotel. I have a headcanon that his wings are very very sensitive and when you touch them it drives him crazy. Could you please do a Nsfw/ smut headcanon, or scenario with him and his female S/O just hanging out, him eating and she gets curious and touches softly them (not knowing what the affect it)? I hope you have a beautiful day!

Note: Of course!! And thank you, hope you also have a beautiful day/night!! Thanks for the request, right now I’m going to work on my others lol. Hope you like what I wrote!!

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Ever since your ascent to Heaven post-mortem, a sense of exclusion lingered in your heart. Unlike most heavenly beings with wings, you were one of the few soul that lack that part of the brand new heavenly anatomy. While everyone in Heaven remained kind and courteous, the infrastructure, were obvious designed for winged inhabitants. That posed you quite the challenges, especially when you where in need of transportation— the lack of automobiles was your greatest nemesis in the afterlife, as everyone effortlessly soared using their wings they didn’t need them.

Despite a subtle feeling of inferiority, your fascination with wings endured. Their majestic allure captivated you, and the desire to experience the softness of the beautiful contraptions persisted. ‘You just had to feel them!’

And you were determined to do so today, as you had received an invitation from Adam to come over.

Currently, you find yourself enjoying takeout on the expansive balcony of his penthouse. It was nice scenery, a comfy outdoor couch with a coffee table full of food.

As he rambled about his day, you nodded along, your attention solely fixed on the captivating golden wings adorning his sides and back. Sneakily inching closer to him, captivated by their beauty. “—Anyways that chick had a huge rack,” He pauses to take a bite of his burger, “So I guessed even Karen ass bitches can be hot.” he finishes with gulp.

Then you finally had a hold of them, ‘his marvellous wings!’ You were engrossed at their exquisite softness, surpassing any feathers from animals you had ever touched. Lost in the delicate material for about a solid five minutes, it had than dawned on you that Adam had stopped talking. Looking back up at him, you notice he had dropped his burger on the table. Then when you glanced at his face, you noted that he looked ‘different’, if you had to describe it, his face almost looked feverish.

In a blink, you were flipped onto your back and hit the couch cushions, then one of Adam's hands pinned both of your hands above your head.

“Fuuuck, babe! You don't need to get so handsy just because your jealous, you could've just fucking said so instead of acting a little tease, feelin’ me up and all.” He informs you while staring down at your perplexed expression, because, while Adam talked dirty in general, you had no idea what you had done to be a tease in this particular situation.

While that question spun in your head, Adam moved closer to your ear, his words jolting you out of your thoughts.

“if you were feeling needy, you just had to speak up. You know I would never leave my girl hanging, especially if getting her little brains fuck out is what she wants.” His voice low, full of desire and malice. He then playfully nip at your ear, ‘now who was the tease again?’

“Wait what— Um, Adam, where is all this coming from?!” You speak up, clearly nervous as a result of your boyfriend's statements and how close your bodies were together.

“The fuck you mean? You started this shit.” He begins, slowly sliding his free hand up your thigh. “Getting in my personal space, touching my wings to get me riled up, are you really gonna play the clueless card now you slutty little thing.” His hand now reaching under you shirt. “Think you can mess with me and just act like nothing happened, huh?” He says as he fondles with one of your breast.

“What do mean get you riled up, I barely touch you!?” You speak out anxiously; this was going far beyond anything you had done before. You two would kiss passionately at most, never doing anything remotely close to, 'well this!' It was strange; he almost acted like he did when he was mad, but this was somewhat different.

"Bold lie for an angel, like you wouldn't know— Oh, riiiight, you don't have wings." It had now dawned on him that you were utterly clueless of the affects the soft petting you gave to his wings had on him, and how depraved it made him feel.

"Yeah. I am not sure what I did to you when I touched your wings, but let me make one thing clear: it was unintentional. Seriously, they seemed soft, and I wanted to know how nice they were to the touch. So I'm sorry for making you mad; I should have asked before touching them.” You explain.

"Aww babes, don't worry, you didn't make me mad, and I'll tot's forgive you,"

You briefly relax as he speaks, well that is, until he opens his mouth again.

"Yeah I'll definitely forgive you if take care of my raging hard on for me'." He emphasised his words by grinding himself against you, making you feel his erection, and oh boy! Was he big; his self-appointed title of 'dickmaster' didn't seem so baseless anymore.

Your heart races faster as you feel a wave of panic wash over you. Despite his words, you couldn’t help but feel anxious about the situation. It was a big milestone to you, ‘the first time the two of you would have intercourse’.

You squirmed slightly, attempting to break free from his hold due to nerves but soon realize it was futile with him pinning your hands above your head. "I... I'm not sure that—," you started to say, but before you could finish, he cut you off.

"Shut up and enjoy the ride, babes." He growled softly, taking advantage of your momentary hesitation to quickly roughly kiss your lips. His tongue thrusts aggressively into your mouth, demanding entry while his other hand continues cupping your breast, squeezing and groping roughly. His erection presses harder against your thigh, digging into your sensitive flesh.

Despite your initial protests and confusion, you can't deny the familiar thrill coursing through your veins. You knew better, yet you still arch into his touch, moaning softly against his rough treatment.

As a warning to quit your shifting around, Adam's grip tightens around your wrists, almost painfully so, causing you to whimper in discomfort mixed with arousal.

And when he finally breaks the kiss, his breathing is heavy and labored.

"You like it, don't you?" He asked, his voice low with desire. His hips rock back and forth, grinding against you harder, making sure you felt every inch of his member. "Admit it, Y/N."

"A-adam, please... I—," you pleaded while being out of breath, but your words were cut off by another deep kiss. His tongue forced its way past your lips, exploring your mouth hungrily yet his hand didn't stop its manhandling of your chest. Meanwhile, his cock throbbed painfully against your thigh, leaving a trail of precum on your clothes.

The sensation was too much for you to handle; despite your original nervousness, the thoughts of messing up or not being enough had dissipated, and you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him anymore. You wanted him and he was totally into you.

Plus your body responded to his touch in ways you didn’t expect it to, it was incredibly in tune with his wants. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as he continued his assault on both your body and mind.

Suddenly, Adam pulled away, his breathing heavy and short. "Good girl," he praised, his tone laced with satisfaction. "Now, spread those legs for me."

While being aroused, you still reluctantly spread your legs wide apart, letting him take off your shorts and exposing your wet panties. "Please, Adam," you whimpered, unable to resist his advances any longer.

With a growl of lust, he ripped off your remaining clothes, revealing your naked body to him. His eyes devoured every inch of you—your stomach, to your hips and obviously your beautiful pussy. Without further ado, he leaned forward, his mouth descending upon your navel, tracing slow, hot lines with his tongue before moving lower still. "Mmmm, you smell so fucking good toots," he murmured against your sensitive flesh.

His hands trailed downwards too, cupping your thighs in his palms, squeezing and kneading them. Soon switching to one free hand and one holding down your legs, inching his face to your then and lapping at your heat.

“Adam, what in the heavens are you doing!?"

“Uh, trying to eating you out, pretty obvious babes”

"Yeah, I get that, but like, why?? You always complain about 'bitches being annoying for demanding you go down on them.' when you mentioned passed relationships"

"Oh yeah, I did say that lmao. Honestly, I just feel like it. You look so pathetically adorable; I couldn’t help myself."

“Did— did you just lmao out loud?”

“Do you want me to stop eating you out with all your interruptions.” He threatens.

"No! I mean, I'm alright. Please continue."

"That’s what I thought too, babes," he grinned around your wet folds, sucking and licking at your sensitive spots. His tongue traced along your cunt, flicking against your clit before returning to tease your entrance again.

You moaned softly, your hands grasping tightly onto Adam's horns as he continued to pleasure you. You arched into him, letting out a soft whimper when his long tongue brushed against your G-spot. "Mmmhmmm... More please..." you managed to mutter between heavy breaths.

He chuckled lightly against your sensitive flesh before pulling away slightly. "Alright, alright." With renewed vigor, he returned to his task with even more enthusiasm, sucking harder and faster on your clit while his fingers teased her opening. He could feel your wetness increasing rapidly, seeping down onto his hand.

Your body trembled and shook in response to the intense sensations assaulting every inch of your being; you were close now—very close. Your breathing became increasingly shallow as she fought the impending orgasm building up inside of her. Then finally you reached sweet climax.

Adam momentarily let go of you to undress himself, now cock in hand."Tell me you want it," he demanded between kisses to neck, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.

"I... I do," you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible above your heavy breathing.

"That's my girl," he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. Without warning, he thrust his cock deep inside you, filling you completely. A sharp cry escaped your lips as the unfamiliar yet familiar feeling washed over you. His thrusts were fast and hard, pounding into you relentlessly. Each powerful stroke brought forth a moan from your throat, mixing with his growls of pleasure.

Your body adjusted quickly to his size, accommodating him easily despite initial discomfort. You arched your back against him, meeting his rhythmic thrusts. The sensation was unlike anything you've ever experienced before—it hurt, but in the best possible way. Your chest bounced with each powerful thrust.

As Adam continued to ravish you, his fingers found their way between your legs, rubbing and massaging your sensitive folds. He teased and tormented your clit mercilessly, causing waves of intense pleasure to ripple through your core. After staring at your lower half for a minute, “I should totally get my name tatted on you, like a crotch tattoo or some shit.” he tells you in his usual goofy tone, yet the look behind his eyes seem to say that he wasn’t completely joking. You on the other could only cry out his name between ragged breaths, begging for more.

“That's it, you filthy little whore," he murmured between labored breaths. "Tell me how much you love this, slut." His pace picked up even more, slamming into you harder and faster than before. Your moans echoed around the room as he relentlessly claimed your body.

In response to his demand, you managed to choke out, "I... I love it!" Your voice cracking with desire, filled with honesty despite yourself.

"Good girl." He growled, picking up speed. His hips slammed against yours in a brutal rhythm that left you gasping for air. His fingers continued their relentless assault on your sensitive spots, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. As a reflex you grabbed at his back, well in this case, his wings.

And that action fucked with him so bad. So Adam bit down hard on your neck, leaving a mark that would later turn into a pretty obvious hickey. Blood trickled down your skin, but it only served to heighten your arousal. "Cum for me, babe," he groaned, his voice hoarse with lust. "Let go, don’t think too hard about it"

You were close, so close to the brink of orgasm. The constant barrage of stimulation was too much for your body to handle, and you couldn't hold back anymore. "A-Adam... I'm..."

"That's it, baby," he encouraged you, his words thick with desire. He increased the pace even more, pounding into you relentlessly.

With a loud cry, you release around him, your pussy contracting tightly around his cock as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over you. Your entire body shook with the force of your climax, and sweat trickled down your body, mixing with his saliva and cum.

Adam groaned in satisfaction, following suit moments later, filling you up with his hot seed. Panting heavily, he lifted his head to stare into your eyes, his gaze filled with lust and satisfaction. "That was fucking amazing, shit, that’s why your my fav."

After momentarily going inside to get cleaned up, you had returned to the balcony.

“Shit my burger is cold!” Adam bitches.

“Well what did you expect it was left on a table while being outdoors— Oh, shit, did someone-?” You begin, than the realization of the what just happened hits Locke a truck.

“-Hear us? Yeah most likely, but doesn’t really matter, they won’t do shit about it, well probably.” He says followed by a laugh.

Sometimes you wondered why you were dating someone so irresponsible, but after today, you did have another bullet point to add to your pros list. ‘The dick was good’

Thanks @starlightfire97 for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie

You can now commission me!

Tag list for Adam: @sunflower-lilly @moonbloom226

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)

#tswhiisftteedr #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #adam x you #adam x reader #adam smut #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam

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pbaz7 · 17 days ago

Text

ONE SHOT: IN HER ORBIT PT.2

paige x azzi

warning: drinking, smoking, sexual content!!!

word count: 13.7

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

—————————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azzi gave her a playful glare. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she did. She really, really did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amber.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About what?” Azzi asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azzi nodded slightly, her expression unreadable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop,” Paige said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ok, baby,” Azzi whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You gonna cum for baby?"

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

"Paige I can’t.. I’m about to—“

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

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

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

"Oh my god!" Azzi screams out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you’re mine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azzi’s jaw dropped. “You bet on it?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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luvyeni · 3 months ago

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MÉNAGE À TROIS ,, 钟辰乐 & 박지성

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ jisung walks in on you and chenle having sex … and you both don’t mind ヾ

boyfriend!钟辰乐・ FEM!reader ・ ‎ 박지성 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎2.4k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

𓂃 🎞️ content warning . . . threesome, unprotected sex, oral ( M ), mxm themes, mxf themes, no real dom or sub themes, jisung could be seen as a sub, alludes to poly relationship

request. hello!! could you maybe write some smut where chenle is fucking yn and all of a sudden jisung enters their apartment and yn is like “i don’t care keep going” and eventually jisung finds them both and is invited to join

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i finished it , i hope you like it 🫶🏾✨

you didn’t even hear the door close; chenle on the other hand was always hyper aware of everything, even when he was balls deep inside you. “oh-oh fuck baby, fuck.” he struggled to get the words out. “fuck the door just opened , jisung is home.” he said in between moans. “fuck be quiet so he won’t hear.”

you and chenle started out as friends; along with jisung — you three were a threesome who eventually moved in together. about a year into moving in together you and chenle entered a relationship, but you two never left jisung out; you guys did everything together still, but he still gave you two private time. “he’s gonna hear.”

you wrapped your legs around the man’s waist , keeping him from pulling out. “fuck i don’t care , keep going.” you moaned. “let him hear , don’t stop fucking me please.” you could feel the man above you twitching inside you. “fuck you want him to hear?” chenle said. he knew about the little infatuation you held with the younger boy, he knew you’d never cheat on him, but hearing you say this made him wonder how many times have you moaned a little bit too loud just for the boys amusement. “fucking slut.”

he grabbed your legs, almost folding them in half. “you want him to hear me fucking you?” he groaned. “give him some material to jerk off to?” him saying that affected himself more than you, the thought of his best friend stroking his cock to the thought of you two fucking. “sh-shit.” he cursed , you smirked. “se-seems like you want him to hear you as well.” that earned a slap to your cunt. “fucking slut shut up, gonna cum in this pussy , let him hear you cum.”

jisung on the other hand, he was unaware — his headphones shielding him from the outside noises. he was supposed to be working tonight, but his shift was cut short and all his other friends were busy so he was forced to come home. he didn’t mind being home, he loved it there, but he couldn’t help but feel like a third wheel sometimes. often left out of plans and having to make plans so you two can have private time. no you two never forced him to do that , but he could just tell when you wanted to be alone as a couple, and you did always try to include him in everything but you two were a couple and he didn’t just want to be there on obligation.

so maybe it was all in his head, but that was him. was he jealous of you two? no, he was happy his two bestest friends found love in each other — maybe he wished he could find something like that… or be a part of the original.

jisung never really struggled with his sexuality; he always knew he liked girls, that was a fact. but he also felt that small attraction to the same sex, there’s only so many times he can pop a boner at the gym sauna when looking at a naked guy before you just came to terms with it and jisung had.

did he find you both attractive? yes he was; but, out of respect for the both of you and your friendships he didn’t say anything… even if he did sometimes hear you two going at it — biting down on his shirt as he fisted his cock to the sounds of both of you moaning. the post nut clarity always left him disgusted with himself, unable to look both of you in his eye the next morning feeling like a pervert.

he was always successful in never walking in on you both; that would have been so awkward, especially if you both happened to lower your eyes and notice his hard on, but he was soon about to mess up that streak all because of those stupid noise blocking headphones you bought out of guilt. “chenle fuck im gonna cum!”

chenle was still plowing into you. “cum slut.” the knots in your stomach tightening, gripping the sheets. “fuck im gonna cum too.” both of you moaning, ready to cum. “oh fuck!” the door came swinging open, right as you both hit your highs. “shit chenle im cumming!”

jisung stood there, he couldn’t hear what just happened— but the visual he was given, your eyes rolling and his other male counterparts head rolling back, he could tell what just happened… and he was mortified. “oh my god, i'm so sorry.”

the two of you didn’t even notice him, until he said something. chenle smirked down at you hearing the boy's voice, his head turning around to face his friend. “i see those headphones work.” he said. “unless you wanted to walk in just as we were cumming together.”

he snatched the headphones off his head. “no-no i swear i didn’t hear anything and the door was open so i thought– chenle leave him alone.” you ran your fingers through your hair. “what? he’s the one still standing there watching like a perv while im still inside you.” you boyfriend said. “yeah and your cock is harder than before with this knowledge, so his company doesn’t seem to bother you.”

jisung couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “i-im sorry, i swear i’ll leave you alone, i have these.” he nervously held the headphones, praying to whoever above you both didn’t notice his hard on. “why just so you can go in your room and jerk off , only to ignore us the next morning?” that made his cock twitch. “n-no im- jesus chen , spare him at least if you’re not gonna give him head.” the younger boy's eyes widened. “huh?”

“do you want me to suck you off?” chenle asked ever so nonchalantly, jisung was speechless. “of course he does, he’s been standing there with a hard on for a minute.” you smirked, eyes traveling down to his pants, he tried to cover it up. “i-i don’t know what to say.” he couldn’t tell if you two were playing with him. “well if he’s good at sucking dick like he is at eating pussy, i’d say yes.” you tapped chenle, signaling him to pull out.

you got up from the bed; making your way over to the boy; he felt like he was in a dream, he walked in on his friends fucking, now his fully nude best friend was guiding him to the bed were he was about to get head from his other friend. “sit down.” you pushed him down against the bed.

chenle sat back on his legs, watching you unbuckle another man’s pants; his eyes traveled to his friends cock popping out from his jeans; he’d seen it in his sweats, and he accidentally walked in on him numerous times, but it looked much bigger when he was hard. “think you can fit him in your mouth?” you asked your boyfriend, that made jisung groan. “this coming from mrs.i can’t give a blow job to save my life.” you scoffed. “remember that when you’re begging me to give you head… again.”

you two put your playful banter aside for the boy who still was pale as a ghost. “don’t be nervous.” you kissed his neck. “we’ll take care of you.” you sucked little hickeys down his neck. “don’t we always?” you bit down gently on his ear. “ye-yeah.” jisung stuttered. “you look like you’re about to cum already.” chenle wrapped his hands around the younger boy's cock. “fu-fuck.” he moaned as he began to stroke him, jisung prayed he didn’t cum soon. “are you really that sensitive?”

chenle pushed the boys legs open further, bring his lips down to his cock blowing in the boys tip making his hips buck. “fuck please.” jisung whimpered. “fuck.” his head was thrown back as his friend lowered his head down on his cock. “oh my god.” you smirked. “feel good?” jisung nodded.

chenle bobbed his head up and down on jisungs length, the tip of his friends cock kissing the back of his throat. “come here.” you grabbed the boys cheeks. “so cute.” you brought his lips against yours, taking his hands, bringing it down to your boobs; down your stomach and in between your legs. he moaned against your mouth feeling your wetness on his fingers, he often thought about doing this while he jerked himself off.

you pulled away he moaned as chenle sucked harder on his cock. “fu-fuck you’re so wet.” he moved his fingers up and down your slit. “fu-fuck ji.” you moaned. “put them in.” he pushed his slender finger past your hole. “shit.” you moaned as he curled his finger inside you. “you’re fucking good at that, gonna make me cum.”

jisung could already feel his orgasm approaching as well. “ch-chenle.” the older boy's cock jumped hearing the boy moan his name like that, it encouraged him to go faster. “oh wait fuck!” he groaned, he tried to stop the boy but you were currently riding his fingers and his other just wouldn’t cut it. “fuck im cumming!” you screamed just as the younger boy's head tipped back as his orgasm took over. “fuck!”

chenle pulled off the boy's cock, just in time because the boy was shooting sticky cum from his cock almost immediately, he jerked the boy off pulling more cum from him. “fuck look at both of you.” chenle said, his voice a little sore. “so fucked up, im glad you two got what you wanted im still fucking hard.”

jisung pulled his fingers out of you, your orgasm dripping down his hand. “don’t let it go to waste, taste it.” chenle ordered, jisung brought his fingers to his lips, wrapping his lips around. “taste like fucking candy doesn’t she?” he hummed. “next time you can taste it straight from the source.” chenle said. “right now i need to fuck or be fucked by either one of you.”

“how about you both fuck me this time and then next time we switch?” this was the second time jisung had heard next time and he wasn’t mad at it — he doesn’t think he’d be able to fuck anyone after this experience again. “of course you say that always ready to be fucked.” chenle scoffed. “ji lay down and you in his lap then, you wanna be fuck by both of us? fine.” chenle slapped your ass watching you climb on top of the boy. “look how wet you made her ji, fucking dripping on your cock.”

chenle wrapped his hand around jisungs cock once again, holding it as you sunk down on it. “oh fuck.” jisung let out a whimper like moan. “shes fucking tight ain’t she?” jisung nodded. “so-so fucking tight.” you moaned out feeling chenles finger enter your hole. “about to stretch this pussy past her limits.” he groaned, stroking his cock. “show jisung how good this messy cunt is.”

he removed his finger, replacing it with his cock. “chenle!” you screamed, feeling him pushing his cock inside you. “shit.” jisung moved, feeling his friend's cock brushing against his, both of them trapped together in the wonder that is your cunt, squeezing them like a vice. “my god this feels good.” you moaned, moving your hips yourself. “look at you, so impatient -fuck- such a damn slut.”

he slapped your ass; watching it recoil. “re-really putting on a show for our boy here aren’t you.” you smiled down at the younger boy moaning. “fu-fuck yeah, how will i get him stay.”

jisung moaned, hearing you boy talk about him like that. “yeah that’s your -fuck- that’s your goal, fucking him so good he stays?” you nodded, chenle grabbed your hips. “well then let me help put in some work, give him an even better reason.” he began to speed up, jisung hips bucked unintentionally , the feeling of your cunt tightening around his cock, paired with his friend's cock rubbing against his. “sh-shit i love this so much.” jisung groaned. “so fucking much.”

the room was smoldering hot; sweat dripping down from each of you, your skin slapping against each other — all three of you moaning. you were the first one to cum , your body shaking as you came with a loud porn like scream. “shit.” chenle moaned our feeling your cunt convulse around him. “fuck im gonna cum, gonna fucking cum inside you.” he moaned, cock twitch as spurts of white shot inside you.

jisung was last to cum, you held his face in your hand. “im gonna cum.” he said. “i-i need to pull out.” he groaned. “no don't, please don't pull out.” jisung looked to chenle , who was still inside you. “fu-fuck you heard her, she wants to be used as a cum dump, then do what she wants…” chenle said. “cum inside her.”

that’s all jisung needed before he was cumming. “oh fuck!” he moaned, cumming. your eyes were fucked out as you laid against the boys chest. “we fucked her dumb ji , she gets real mushy afterwards.” chenle pulled out, watching the cum spill from your cunt. “sh-shut up.”

“get up.” chenle playfully slapped your ass. “chenle stop.” jisung found a small bit of comfort in how playful you two were afterwards, it wasn’t awkward at all. “jisung just twitched inside me.” you teased the younger boy. “did seeing him do that make you feel something?” his face turned an even deeper red. “you’re gonna have to stop being so timid if you want to continue this.” chenle said.

“this?” he said, he never thought it would go further than maybe once or twice — three times if he prayed hard enough. “you think i would’ve put your cock in my mouth if i didn’t plan on having you do the same to me eventually?” you chuckled seeing the boy's face. “chenle you have to lean slowly into that , not everyone likes giving head.”

“ji ji , let’s go shower.” you stood up, holding your hand out. “you want to shower with me?” you nodded. “chenle hates showering with me.” the older boy rolled his eyes. “because you keep the water temperature at hell, so no i don’t like seeing my skin steaming as it cooks me from the inside.” he grumbled. “both of you go shower and i’ll change the sheets , and order some food.”

jisung took your hand and you guided him to the bathroom. “come.” you called him over once you reached the bathroom. “if you can be quiet then i’ll show that chenle is just being a dick when he said i can’t give head , i just like to withhold it from him to piss him off.” jisung felt like he was in heaven.

chenle on the other hand was still grumbling as he fixed the bedsheets. “this is crazy.” he said to himself. “I found two people who hate giving head , but love getting head.”

he still couldn’t help but smile though…

©️LUVYENI

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venomhoundfanworks · 3 months ago

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Hazbin Hotel - Morning Routines

Kind of a part 2 to the Sleeping Habits Post??? While that one is about falling asleep with them, this one is about what its like to wake up with them. Same lineup; Alastor, Vox, and Lucifer. I... also might have accidentally started a Charlie one so I might be doing more parts to these (｡ŏ_ŏ)

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; NSFW in Vox's section; mostly just nuclear powered fluff; somebody PLEASE get Lucifer a doctor the man is so depressed (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

As gone over in my sleeping habits post, Alastor does not like sharing a bed normally. But if it does happen to be a blue moon and he actually stayed the whole night; it is a sight to behold in the morning.

Alastor's hair is naturally curly. Due to internalized racism (from you know, the 1920s), Alastor insists his hair must be straight and has a crazy hair routine to keep it that way. One of many reasons why his hair is so... gnarly looking.

Right after he wakes up in the mornings though, his bedhead breaks through the illusion. You get to see the glorious sight of Alastor's hair attempting to go back to its natural form. The edges of his locks are making small loops in all directions, and his face is framed in loose ringlets.

Unfortunately, this only lasts for about ten minutes at most before he goes to "fix" it.

Other then getting to see that beautiful sight, the mornings are the same regardless of if he stayed in the bed with you or not; You always get to wake up to his wonderful cooking.

Alastor has unfortunately had to take it upon himself to be the hotel chef. Charlie did try to do it for a little bit, but that resulted in more fires and ambiguous remains then anything. Vaggie and Husk can barely operate a microwave. Nifty is well... Nifty.

So Alastor pops into the hotel kitchen at around 7am to start cooking breakfast for the hotel. More 7:30 if his hair has been particularly unruly that day.

Alastor pokes fun at everyone over being their chef, but he really likes it actually. He will never admit that to anyone though. He finds the mornings relaxing because he gets to just cook, something that he enjoys and thats deeply nostalgic for him. It starts him off on the right foot for the day.

The only times it starts him on the wrong foot, is when Lucifer decides to get up at an ungodly hour (or straight up pull an all nighter), just so he can steal the kitchen and make the hotel breakfast instead.

Lucifer does this because he thinks he is a better chef then Alastor. Surely, Alastor's annoyance is proof of that! But Alastor is actually pissed off because his plans for the morning got set on fire by Lucifer's dumb ego.

Alastor really does go above and beyond as the chef by the way. For a cannibal, you would never expect how respectful he is of everyone's dietary preferences. If your a vegetarian, or even a vegan, Alastor won't blow you off. He will make something for everyone that still works for you, or just make you something special. He sees it less as you having a dietary restriction and more as a challenge of his skills.

Anyways, thanks to Alastor, mornings at the hotel are always extremely nice. Everyone comes down to eat together, hang out, and just be. Its a tranquil time and atmosphere that he has taken great care to cultivate. Sets him up perfectly mentally for his afternoon radio shows.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Vox always wakes up with a big sigh. He is very much that type of person whose first thought when waking up is, 'goddamn it, I woke up'. Hates leaving the bed but knows he has to.

At least Vox stops having those thoughts when you become apart of his life.

If your still in the bed when he wakes up, Vox is immediately comforted by your weight on his chest. He cant help but smile as his arms tighten around you. One of Vox's hands starts absentmindedly carding through your hair as he goes over everything he has to do that day in his head.

If your not in the bed when Vox wakes up, it completely fucks with his mind. His sleeping body does not register you moving or getting up at all. So from Vox's perspective, you were in his arms one second then... not. Vox will wake up to you not there and be super confused. He will legit start looking for you like a puppy.

Depending on your relationship status with him, Vox might even just assume that he dreamt/hallucinated the whole encounter with you. Only realizing that it actually happened upon outside evidence.

Operating on the assumption that you two are a thing; Vox now tries to keep his mornings flexible because of you. They used to be very regimented. Vox would wake up, get dressed, grab a coffee, then be right out the door to head to work. But now that your here, the mornings are much more relaxed.

When you first move in, Vox's first order of business is to hire a personal chef. Don't get me wrong, Vox loves it when you cook for him. The guy absolutely melts when you do. But the reality is he loves it a little... too much. Which often results in no breakfast actually being had because Vox ends up dragging you back to the bedroom. Of course, that's if he doesn't end up fucking you right on the counter or kitchen table.

Look. Seeing you by the stove in an apron just does something to him, alright?

If you ever even asked Vox if he knew how to cook, the guy would probably bluescreen. The only thing he knows how to ""cook"" is 'takeout'. (image included) If he tried to boil an egg, he would burn the water.

So yeah. Vox takes initiative to get you two a chef. He doesn't want you to have to cook for him anyway; he wants it to be an act of love rather then an obligation. If you push Vox and say you want to cook for him, he will making heart eyes and be ready to marry you on the spot.

Seriously. Make him cute, homemade lunches for work. Vox will brag about them to everyone. Put adorable love notes in there and everything. The guy will be on his knees.

Regardless of who actually made the breakfast, Vox always has it with you. He may be a busy man, but he makes sure this is a time you get him exclusively. Vox lets you know of his schedule for the day (assuming Valentino doesnt set it on fire ofc) and when he plans on being home.

When Vox leaves for work he actually has a genuine smile on his face. Don't get me wrong, he still hates it and cant wait to get back home to you. But Vox doesn't feel that same crushing dread that he did before.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

It used to be so hard to get up for him. It wasn't uncommon for Lucifer to just wallow in bed for an entire day. But now that your here, everything has changed. Lucifer actually has a reason to get up in the mornings again. He used to just go back to sleep and pretend the world doesn't exist.

He is a morningbird by nature, so he often wakes up before you. However, Lucifer hates leaving your arms and the cozy bed. So one of two things happens depending on how he is feeling.

If Lucifer is feeling good, or just particularly lovey that morning; he will pull you extra close to him and start kissing all over you. You'll wake up to the wonderful feeling of fleeting kisses and his smile on your skin. No better way to start the day.

As soon as he notices your awake, Lucifer moves to place quick, chaste kisses all over your face. All while asking, "How are you feeling, Ducky?", "Did you sleep okay?", "Have any fun dreams?".

Lucifer looks at you with the most adoring look in his eyes, desperate to snuggle and feel your skin on his. He wants to listen to you talk about anything and everything.

After awhile of cuddling and pillow talk, you have to be the one to convince Lucifer to get up. He will playfully whine and try to keep you in the bed, but he won't keep it up for long. Lucifer also cant wait to make you a wonderful breakfast and talk more while he cooks too~

Lucifer is a chatterbox when he wants to be. Especially with someone he loves. He basically wants to imbibe your entire being; that includes getting to know every random thought you have and every dark corner of your mind.

But if Lucifer feels the weight of depression weighing him down that morning, he simply snuggles deeper into you when he wakes. His grip on you tightens, and he pulls the sheets tighter around you two. Like he is building a cocoon or trying to shield you both from the outside.

Sometimes you can tell as soon as he wakes up that he is in a bad state. Instead of kisses, you are woken up by the trembling of his small form. Shaking with unshed tears and fresh pain from old wounds.

Lucifer clings to you desperately; the grip of his claws threatening to break your skin. You have to physically force him away from you just so you can look him in the eyes. Even then, Lucifer whimpers and tries to hug you tighter in protest.

He will begin to plead with you. Saying things like "Don't leave me" or "Please stay". You kiss him gently and bring him into your chest as he finally begins to sob. You two stay there for a long time. Lucifer is extra clingy that day. Attached to you at the hip and always holding your hand in his. His heart rate picks up and he starts to get frantic if your fingers slip out of his.

Mornings with Lucifer are overall just very slow. Meandering. Lucifer's safe place has become the bed since the heights of his depression, so he is reluctant to leave it. Some dark part of him feels that the longer he can keep you in bed, the longer he wont have to say an inevitable 'goodbye'.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

LINKS AND FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

My Masterlist for my Other Work: >>HERE<<

First part to this post, Sleeping Habits is: >>HERE<<

AO3 Archive Link: >>HERE<<

Its a super silly idea, but I love >>THIS POST<< by @/antiheroalastor where you find out Alastor has a extensive skincare routine.

Cute imagine by @/voxisdaddy where Vox has to cuddle you to fall asleep can be found >>HERE<<

Then something more spicy, >>HERE<< are some ADORABLE Lucifer aftercare headcanons by @/redr0sewrites. Rose writes the rambling, dorky, disaster Lucifer that I have envisioned in my head PERFECTLY.

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w4ndal0ver · 4 months ago

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Little Slut (Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader)

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: you've been bratty and Wanda is ready to show you what that earns you.

content warnings: smut, restraints, vibrator use, spitting, spanking, rough handling, overstimulation, praise, degradation, fingering, cunnilingus

word count: 3k+

note: i'm new to this, please leave me asks if you want to see any fantasies brought to life, got majors writers block so the more the better. (I'll leave who I write for in my pinned post.)

Little Slut

[MINORS DON'T INTERACT]

“You wanna be a brat? I’ll show you what fucking brats get.” Wanda growls at you, pulling the skin of your neck between her teeth, sharply biting down the length of your throat. You call out in a harmony of pleasure and pain before being cut off by her hand clasping your mouth. “Bedroom, now.”

You smirk as Wanda leads you roughly by the hips, forcing you to go up the stairs first. You were trembling with anticipation, not knowing whether you’d taken it too far this time. You could feel your arousal beginning to dampen your underwear, yet you reminded yourself to stay patient, knowing you weren’t going to get what you wanted any time soon.

“So you wanna be a brat then, hm?” Wanda asks, the green hues of her eyes darkening as she watches you perch on the edge of the bed, leg crossed over the other.

“I haven’t done anything.” You lie casually, you tried to stop the smile that was creeping towards the sides of your lips. You knew you’d failed as she exhales, shaking her head and sucking her tongue against her teeth in annoyance. A guilty gulp filled the room as you cross your arms protectively over your body, immediately regretting your decision as the redhead saunters towards you.

“I’ll be the judge of that princess.” She kneels on the bed, the mattress indenting as she taps your thighs and moves between them, pulling at the hem of your jumper and lifting it over your head. You could feel her eyes burning into you before she saw what was underneath. You were flushed, not sure where to look as she gazed at your laced up body, the most attractive lingerie she’d ever seen clinging to your figure. There was nothing opaque about it, the see-through fabric allowing her to drool over your body that you’d dressed up just for her. “Just as I thought.” Wanda smiles, leaning down and placing a wet kiss against your clothed nipple, feeling it harden beneath her mouth. You gasp and she let out a dominating laugh against your chest.

Before you could get used to her burning stare, her hands were roaming your breasts, dragging her fingers upwards from the hem before taking it between her fists and ripping the bralette straight down the middle. You blinked in surprise at your torn set, your mouth hung ajar as she looked directly into your hurt face with a fake pout.

“That was new!” You whine, looking down at the torn material before looking back up at Wanda who didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

Her head cocked to the side, licking her bottom lip at the sight of your breasts revealed themselves behind the torn material, your nipples showing as the bralette lay torn across your chest. “I’ll buy you a new you, but not until I’ve punished you for acting like a dumbed out brat all day.”

You nod, your thighs clenching as you knew you had to take it. She tilts your chin up to look at her, your breath hitched as she gets up and opens the drawer next to your bed. She pulls out her scarlet silk ties, nodding her head at you, signalling for you to stand up to which you comply immediately. The redhead pushes your body closer to hers, kissing you softly before asking for your wrists, planting a kiss above them before tying them together with the silk cloth.

“I’m going to tie you to this chair so you can watch as I get myself off” She stated, making sure you understood what your punishment was going to be. Her voice was stern but soft, speaking to you in a completely different tone than she usually does. You may wind her up but you also make her melt, and she always softens her tone to make you more comfortable. You do as she says, sitting down in the chair placed in the corner of the room, just to the side of the bed. Once you were sat, Wanda ran her hands along your thighs, allowing you time to open them before she wrapped the silk around them, forcing them to lie on top of the arms of the chair, carefully tying them down. She admired her work, looking at your body so open and vulnerable to her, the ripped lingerie laying torn against your tied figure.

“You’re soaking already honey, does being punished like this turn you on?” Wanda asked, already knowing the answer despite your nodding as she watched your arousal glisten through the see-through underwear, tracing the back of her finger up your clothed slit and her eyes light up at you squirming underneath her touch, trying to clench your thighs shut but unable to against her restraints. “You’re not allowed to cum princess, if you get close, tell me and I’ll stop it for you.” She instructed and you nodded immediately as you felt her fingers dip under your lingerie, placing a vibrator between your clit and the underwear, the one you knew that she controlled with her phone. You moaned at the feeling, even with it turned off, it was placing enough pressure on your worked up cunt that you felt your arousal building around it.

She never turns her back from you, edging herself towards the bed, not undressing herself but slowly undoing the buttons of her blouse, allowing her black bra to be visible to you. Wanda makes herself comfortable, lying back against the pillows, allowing her hands to slowly begin to roam her chest, purposefully dragging out her movements. You were sat waiting, your body on fire as you sat in the stagnance, feeling the stillness of the vibrator against your slicked arousal.

As you watch the redhead tease herself, dragging her fingers over her nipples, your eyes stuck on the way they hardened under her touch. You could see the hairs on her arms stand at the feeling. Then you feel the low thrum of the vibrations hit your clit, your body jerking against it. She grins at you as your body burns, squirming desperately against the restraints in a desperate attempt to squeeze your thighs together to get more pressure.

The eye contact was intimidating especially as Wanda slips her hand beneath the waistband of her trousers, her head tilting backwards as she gently strokes the length of her slit in front of you. Her other hand on her phone, increasing the vibrations and watching as you throw your head back, the first deep moan escaping your lips.

Wanda is quick to join you, exaggerating her whines and moans to tease you. Her hand was moving quicker and you couldn’t see what she was doing, but the pace in which her wrist was thrusting into herself was getting you closer and closer to the edge. The vibrations were getting stronger and the scene that was playing out in front of you was just doubling your arousal. Wanda kept changing the strength of the vibrations, a smile never leaving her lips when her eyes were on you. You could feel yourself getting close, you laboured breaths and your hips jerking involuntarily a good enough sign for Wanda too.

“Wanda, Close.” You let out and the vibrations stop immediately.

“Acting like such a good girl for such a desperate whore.” Wanda panted through her own messy breaths. Before you could catch your breath the vibrations started again and you could’ve cursed there and then.

Wanda was acting now and you knew it, the moans that were leaving her mouth were practically pornographic, her body squirming against her own hand. You were struggling against your restraints now, hearing her reaction with the vibrations pulsating through your sensitive cunt, edged once already.

“Wanda, close again.” You manage to let out and Wanda’s eyes open immediately to look at the whining and jerking mess you’d become. Her eyes were glistening at how your arousal was practically dripping out of your underwear. Even with the vibrations halted, your hips continued to push towards nothing, desperate to chase a release.

The redhead was continuing to ignore your presence, doubling your frustration as the vibrations started up again, this time lower than the first. You whine in annoyance, jutting your body upwards against the ties. You could tell Wanda was close, she’d stopped the fake moans and writhing around and now her back was beginning to arch as her wrist now undertaking circular motions. While your eyes were fixed on her clothed body, Wanda increased the vibrations up to the highest settings and the high pitched moan that you released, the redhead knew that you weren’t going to be able to stop yourself from going over the edge.

“Don’t cum princess, you don’t want to do that.” Wanda warned, pulling her hand from her trousers before her own climax.

“Wanda I can’t, stop it, turn it-” Before you finished your words the edge was too close now and you were thrown over before you had any chance to stop it. Your body gave into the pleasure and your legs started shaking over the arms of the chair, letting out a strangled cry before your body dropped back against the back of the chair.

“Oh darling, you've made a huge mistake.” Her voice wasn’t filled with anger, but instead you could hear the possibilities of your extended punishment running through her head. She untied you, removing everything from you. She roughly grasps your chin, pulling you back into reality, her dark eyes and haunting grin made you squirm beneath her grip.

“I’m sorry baby, it was just too much.” You admit shamefully, trying to resolve any last bit of sympathy that Wanda might have held towards you.

“It’s too late for that, you know how it makes me feel when you disobey me.” With that, she grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you off the chair and you hit the ground hard, a squeak leaving your mouth as you find yourself forced down onto your knees in front of the redhead.

Without removing her hand twisting in your hair, she pulls your head back eliciting a sharp gasp as you look up at Wanda. She uses her thumb to trace against your bottom lip, prying them apart, a long string of spit leaving her mouth and into yours. You swallow, opening your lips again in a plea for more. Instead she just laughs at your willful submissiveness, spitting directly onto your face before shoving the back of your head forwards as her saliva dripped from your cheeks.

While your body was trembling at Wanda’s rough handling of you, you couldn’t help but feel how sticky your inner thighs had become, a layer of arousal lacing your skin.

“What have you done to deserve this?” Wanda asks, making sure you understood why you

were in this position.

“I-”

Wanda leans in and pinches your nipple hard between her fingers, causing a gut wrenching gasp in response.

“I teased you.” You manage to let out over the pain of Wanda digging her nails into the side of your nipple, applying as much pressure as she could.

“You didn’t just tease me princess.” Wanda insists, her hand stroking around your neck, scratching down the length of your throat with her maroon painted nails. “Bending over in front of me all day, whispering all those dirty things you wanted me to do to you, and then disobeying my one order.” The last words burned into your brain and you could feel your cheeks flushing bright red at the comments, this did nothing but spur Wanda on. “I think you need this brattiness fucked out of you, don’t you?”

You nod in response, trying desperately not to moan and whine at the redhead's words.

“You wanna be fucked like my little slut?” She growled, you nodded, and she wasn’t taking your silent responses anymore. She chokes you, her hand gripping tightly around your neck as you feel all the oxygen rush to your head making you dizzy. “Answer me.”

“Yes Wanda, fuck me please.” This was all you could come up with in the heat of the moment and when she laughed at your response you knew you weren’t getting away with this so easily.

“Tell me what you are then.” Her patronising tone and strong grip around your throat made you squirm, but your knees firmly against the coldness of the floor all you could do was writhe around under her touch.

“Your little slut.” You whisper, your voice being taken away with how nervous you’d become in her presence. Your pleasure being completely in her hands was something that made you so vulnerable but so desperate for her.

She kisses you with such force you could barely think straight, her hand still remaining around your throat, her teeth biting down on your lip, everything about this was rough and dirty. She continues to mark your neck as you moan in desperation, every bite leaving a souvenir of you misbehaving. You felt your core ache and Wanda could sense your arousal through the tremble of your lips.

“I want you over my lap.” She demands and you groan in arousal at the thought of being bent over her lap. Before you could react to the words, she’d sat herself on the edge of the bed, her hand in your hair pulling you onto all fours, your stomach falling flush against her closed thighs.

The room fell silent as the anticipation took over, her hand reaching between your thighs, gathering your wetness for a momentary second before she pushed two fingers into you, thrusting immediately at a relentless pace, not allowing you to get used to the stretch you needed to fit around her. You were moaning unashamedly against the bed, gasping in pain as her flat handed palm hit your ass with a sting. She kept this up until you were a trembling mess over her lap. Each spank was met with her fingers curling harshly against your g-spot, her own groans making you dizzy as she worked hard to roughly thrust her fingers in and out of your cunt.

“Wanda, I- I’m so close, please don’t stop, please.” You beg, feeling yourself getting closer and once you felt her arm snake around your body to find your throbbing clit, she barely drew three circles against it and you were crying out against the bed every time you felt her fingers slam against your sweet spot.

“You can cum, but I’m not stopping.” Wanda exclaims, her eyes lighting up at your thighs shaking and your nails gripping hard into her legs as you feel your inevitable orgasm building. “But only because of those pathetic little noises you’re making.”

With one more spank you feel your core collapse with blinding pleasure and your orgasm burns through your body, your hips jolting uncontrollably as she fucks you through it.

You were so sensitive, but Wanda was still thrusting her fingers into you, adding a third finger as your muffled moans spurred her to continue fucking you, her pace getting quicker as your thighs continued to shake. She was not in the mood to let you have any say in how she was taking you, the addition of her third finger stretching you out more than before. Her endless circles against your clit were getting stronger as you desperately winced through the overstimulation.

“Give me another, you can do it.” Wanda demands, and if you weren’t on the brink before you certainly were now. “Now Princess, Obey me.” With your last orgasm still fluttering through you, her harsh thrusts and small circles sent you into a state of pleasurable shock, this orgasm lasting twice as long as the last and your hips starting pushing back against Wanda’s fingers. “Oh darling,” She sighed, removing her fingers, your body rigid over her lap. She tugs on your hair again, forcing you up onto your knees, your legs barely able to hold your own weight up. “Look at the mess you’ve made.” She said, gesturing towards her hand dripping in your arousal. You watch as she takes a finger and places it against her tongue. Her eyes dark with lust as her eyes trailed down your body.

“Lie down, legs spread, I need to clean you up.” She continues to order, pointing to her face as she lies back on the bed. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, thinking you’d reached the end of the night. The throbbing sensitivity between your legs signalling that you couldn’t take any more. “What's wrong? You wanted to be fucked like my little slut so you’re going to do as you’re told and come and straddle my face.”

Within seconds you found your knees spread, planted on the mattress, one on either side of her face. Her hands were holding your waist tightly, her strength keeping you stuck in place, disallowing your hips from grinding against her tongue. You were moaning into the mattress as her tongue lightly explored your folds, gently swirling it around your oversensitive clit. Each time you felt the push of her tongue you were met with a pleasurable shock that was sent right through your body. Her hands were gripping the back of your thighs before her fingers crawled towards your well fucked pussy, deciding she wasn’t done with you.

With the immediate push of three fingers into your entrance you moaned loudly, you felt your hips being lifted, allowing her to speak against your pussy. “That’s its baby, moan for me, make those pretty noises now you can. This is the only way I want to hear my name on your lips.” You gasp as her tongue instantly reconnects with your clit, swirling those same excruciating circles that were drawing your next orgasm closer. You couldn’t control the sinful noises that were escaping your open mouth. You were being railed over Wanda’s face and her thrusts were still getting stronger.

“Fuck Wands I’m so close.” You pant, moans interrupting your words, with her movements speeding up a fraction, you took this as permission, but you couldn’t stop it either way. The orgasm that came made your knees buckle, your body unable to hold itself over Wanda’s mouth, your thighs squeezing her head into place against your clit. Her tongue flicked back and forth over your nub as you rode out your orgasm, her hands no longer keeping your hips in place as you grind against her mouth. Her name, as predicted, was tumbling out of your mouth as the overwhelming waves of your prolonged orgasm continued to ripple through you. You could feel her moans vibrating through your body as you rode it out, this one was mind-blowing and your brain felt frozen in this moment for way longer than the last, which you didn’t believe was possible.

Wanda was still smiling when you finally gained the strength to remove yourself from her face, you were aided by her grip that was helping you move your body down to match how she was laying. You were snuggled in her arms now and this felt strangely right as your head was hidden in the crease of her neck.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson now.” She grinned, her fingers running through your sweat drenched hair.

“If anything, I’ll be teasing you more.” This gained you a swift slap to your ass and you wince immediately, your skin still sensitive from when she had you bent over her lap. This gave you the confidence you needed, you were desperate to touch her and you had been since she kissed you in the doorway. You reached your hand down the waistband of her trousers that she was still wearing, and Wanda looked at you with surprise.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She protested with her tone of voice but the way her hips rose to meet your hand was anything but resistance. It was your turn to smirk now as it seemed that Wanda seemingly didn’t know that you’d want so desperately to return the favour.

“I want to show you that your little slut can do more than making pathetic noises.”

1K notes · View notes

zerocoded · 26 days ago

Text

summary: caleb wants to confess to you on his knees and a 70-year-old lady becomes your biggest nightmare.

authors note: pls take a look at the warnings for a safe reading ♡ y'all are freakier than me and I LOVE IT, so here is the continuation of this post i made, if you haven't read it, go and tell me what you think about! also check the talented artist who made this drawing that i'm using as a banner, credits to her ♡ this thing was supposed to be 6k words max but i think i got a little too much into EVERYTHING so i'm sorry if this sucks. still, i wish you guys a nice reading!

warnings: MAJOR LORE GUESS, THIS IS MY THEORY OF HOW THINGS WILL PLAY OUT DON'T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY • gaslighting and manipulation • SLIGHT yandere!caleb • possessive!caleb • isolation but just a little • minor injury • psychological distress • themes of wars and weaponization • we talk a little about our trauma • ptsd symptoms • negative talks about ourselves (booh) • caleb custom makes an uniform specially for us • hints at psychological torture • once again, ANGST BABES because these two really like to bicker with each other • sfw content but HEAVILY SUGGESTIVE, just nothing graphic

word count: 11.6k (pls let's not talk about it)

THIS IS THE PART TWO, you can read the first chapter below:

the first time you see caleb after the incident┃ you're here┃you punch caleb in the face┃caleb teaches you his love language

skyhaven, powered by a protocore, stood as a beacon of innovation—a home to cutting-edge research centers and advanced tech organizations. when you were younger, the suspended island above linkon city had been a dream, a place of endless possibility and freedom. now, standing here, you couldn’t shake the irony: the very place you once longed to visit now felt like a gilded cage.

your journey here has unsettled you, planting a persistent seed of doubt. was this truly what you wanted? leaving behind the familiar comforts of your apartment to follow caleb to this towering, enigmatic place—was it the right choice? did that moment—the feeling of his lips on yours—truly change anything between you? did he think about it as often as you did?

the initial shock and disbelief of reuniting with caleb, after weeks spent mourning him, had begun to settle by your second night in skyhaven. the whirlwind of emotions that came with seeing him alive—relief, confusion, and a flicker of anger—faded into a dull hum as reality set in. as the day dragged on, with caleb strictly advising you not to leave his sleeping quarters’ floor, you found yourself with plenty of time to adjust to the strange circumstances you now found yourself in.

your first day here had passed quietly, an uneasy stillness settling over you. you hadn’t yet met any of caleb’s colleagues. the only glimpse you’d gotten of them was when you both arrived, their initial looks of curiosity quickly extinguished by caleb’s commanding presence. whatever questions they had, they didn’t dare voice them. his authority was absolute, and for now, it shielded you from the world beyond his floor—but it also left you feeling isolated, a stranger in this new environment.

the second day started and ended much like the first—confined to his bedchambers, with nothing but your thoughts and the ever-changing view from the huge floor-to-ceiling windows in his room. you spent hours there, caught in a trance as the sky shifted through an endless palette of colors, clouds forming and dissolving in shapes that seemed just as fleeting as your grip on this new reality.

caleb’s presence was everywhere and that made you a little dizzy. his scent lingered in the shirts he had lent you, in the bed sheets that cradled you at night, a warm mix of leather, musk, and something distinctly his own. his quarters, though rarely used given how much of his time was consumed by work, were unmistakably a reflection of him.

the room was awash in muted greys, from the smooth metallic walls to the minimalist furniture that prioritized function over form. cabinets lined one side, adorned with badges from past missions—quiet tokens of his history, his sacrifices, and his triumphs. their arrangement felt almost random, yet carried a subtle, unspoken order.

his bed, though crisply made, was an island of softness in the otherwise sharp-edged decor. a worn leather jacket hung by the door, its scuffed edges a contrast to the polished surface of his boots, lined perfectly beneath. on the desk in the corner, a stack of reports waited alongside a notebook with frayed edges, a relic of a more personal side of him he rarely let anyone see.

when reality came crashing down, you realized that you felt no different than when you were a little kid—admiring the boy of your dreams from a distance, your heart caught between hope and the quiet certainty that this dream was just that: a dream. the same ache lingered, a mixture of longing and doubt. you felt closer to that dream every time you caught caleb staring at you when he thought you were distracted.

speaking of ache, the injury you’d sustained a few days earlier during one of your missions was still fresh in your memory. the medic team at the farspace fleet had tended to it with precision, and that counted as the second time you’d interacted with anyone here. you hadn’t meant to let it slip during your journey that your ribs were swollen from an accident at work, but caleb had noticed—and he wasn’t about to let you brush it off.

when you tried to wave away his concerns, insisting you just needed rest, he didn’t take it lightly. his worry for you came out in an unusual way—firm, commanding, and impossible to ignore. he barked orders at the medic team with an authority that left no room for argument, his voice sharp and unwavering. watching him threaten them to ensure you received the best care, you couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t just acting as a colonel—he was someone who cared deeply for you.

as the clock marked the start of your third day as caleb’s reluctant guest, you rose from his bed, the routine as monotonous as the view outside. you slipped into fresh clothes—despite having no prospect of seeing anyone besides caleb—and began your habitual ritual of tidying up his space, a quiet attempt to pass the time and bring a sliver of normalcy to the strange circumstances.

you were certain the colonel wouldn’t mind if you spent the day lounging in his shirt—it wasn’t like he’d complain—but there was something about maintaining a semblance of decency that felt necessary. maybe it was your way of reminding yourself that you and caleb weren’t pre-teenagers cuddling in granny’s sofa like you used to anymore, now you were both adults.

caleb’s presence in the room was fleeting, almost ghostlike. you always fell asleep before he returned and woke to find the bed cold and empty, his absence a constant companion. and yet, in the stillness of the night, there were moments—fleeting, but undeniable—when you stirred just enough to feel him. his arm would circle your waist, his breath soft against your hair. it was never long enough to fully wake, but just enough to remind you that he was there, in his own quiet, guarded way.

and there it goes your attempt at decency once again.

you’d joked once about how he was keeping you hostage, trying to lighten the mood of your strange arrangement. caleb had smirked at your remark, that faint, knowing curve of his lips that you used to know what it meant but couldn’t pinpoint it anymore. “be patient”, he’d teased, throwing out that stupid nickname he’d decided to saddle you with since kids. then, with his usual abruptness, he’d turned to leave, disappearing for yet another task that demanded his attention.

you caught yourself daydreaming about kicking his ass more times than you wanted to admit, but refrained from it because of the little consideration you had for the man. caleb had always been more than a mere presence in your life. growing up, he had been both a confidant and the object of an innocent, unspoken infatuation.

back at school, you remembered the way your classmates would fawn over him after the whole chronorift thing happened, their voices tinged with admiration and awe. it had stirred a quiet possessiveness in you that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now—until two nights ago, when he brought you to the farspace fleet. the way the other daa soldiers regarded him, with a mixture of respect and fear, reminded you of those little girls in school, seeing him as someone out of reach.

the sound of your footsteps echoed faintly in the silence of caleb’s quarters as you paced, restless energy building with nowhere to go. the midday light filtering through the observation deck window cast long shadows, shifting subtly as the minutes dragged into hours. you’d spent the morning turning over every piece of information caleb had given you—trying to make sense of his cryptic remarks.

you had thought about confronting him more than once, but every time you pictured his sharp gaze and those carefully chosen, guarded responses, you stopped yourself. caleb didn’t share things easily like he used to, and if he was keeping you in the dark now, there had to be a reason. but patience had never been your strong suit, and the isolation of the past three days only made your doubts heavier, pressing against your thoughts like an unshakable weight.

as the door to his quarters hissed open, your heart jumped, the sound breaking the stillness like a gunshot. caleb stepped inside, his movements precise, his expression unreadable. his uniform was slightly rumpled, the dark fabric clinging to his frame, and a faint sheen of sweat on his brow suggested whatever task he’d been called to wasn’t as simple as he might claim.

“you’re still up here,” he observed, his tone neutral but his gaze flicking over you briefly before settling on the desk where he’d left a stack of reports.

“where else would i be?” you replied, trying to mask the tension in your voice. “you made it pretty clear this is my designated prison cell.”

his lips quirked into that familiar smirk. “if this is a prison, i’d say you’ve got the best cell in the fleet.”

you rolled your eyes at his response, folding your arms across your chest. “sure, best cell in the fleet,” you muttered, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “it’s not like i have much to compare it to.”

caleb chuckled softly, his smirk lingering as he moved toward the desk, casually thumbing through the stack of reports. “you’ve got a knack for making everything sound like an ordeal,” he said, glancing at your choice of clothes for the day—it wasn’t anything crazy, just some jeans and a black compression shirt. caleb didn’t gave you time to actually pack your stuff, of course. “but you’ll want to save your complaints for later. something tells me you’re about to get more to gripe about.”

before you could ask what he meant, the door hissed open again, and a small team of people entered, their arrival so abrupt it left you momentarily stunned. they carried garment bags and cases, moving efficiently under caleb’s orders. he turned to you, his expression unreadable but his tone calm and firm.

“go with them,” he said simply. “they’ll help you get ready.”

you stared at him, incredulous. “ready for what?”

“it’s time for you to get out of here,” he said, his tone firm yet measured. “you need to meet some people. there’s an interrogation set up, and they’re going to need answers—everything you know about onychinus, the aether core, and ever. try to dig up whatever you can remember about your time in the lab,” he added, his lips curving into a faint smile. “that should keep them satisfied, princess.”

your body tensed at the mention of onychinus. it was a name you didn’t expect to hear here, of all places, and the weight of it hit you like a blow to the chest. your gaze snapped to caleb, your mind already racing. how much did he know? how much had he told them?

“onychinus?” you repeated, your voice sharper than you intended. “how do they even know about that?”

did they know about sylus?

caleb’s expression remained unreadable, his amethystine eyes cool and steady, but there was a flicker of something he wasn’t saying. “this isn’t just about you anymore,” he replied simply. “they need answers. so do i.”

“and the lab?” you snapped, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “what the hell is that supposed to mean? i don’t know shit about that place, caleb. i already told you. it’s hard enough to believe i’m some kind of fucking experiment.”

he sighed heavily, the sound more resigned than exasperated. “we’ve talked about this,” he said, his voice steady but with a tinge of weariness, as if the conversation had played out in his head a hundred times already.

“no,” you shot back, stepping closer, your voice trembling with emotion. “you talked about this. you told me we’re human weapons, made to destroy each other. you told me about your time before the chronorift and granny josephine.” your voice faltered for a moment, your breath hitching. “and i told you, caleb, i don’t remember any procedures being done without my consent. even after the chronorift tragedy. you should stop fretting me about this.”

“you don’t remember,” he said quietly, his amethystine eyes holding yours with a steady intensity. “that’s fine. i didn’t either, at first.” he paused, the faintest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he continued. “but i hope we can talk about this again later, when you finally do remember.”

his voice dropped lower. “trust me,” he said, the words heavy with meaning. “you’re going to want me by your side when that happens.”

you narrowed your eyes, your tone turning accusatory. “and what about you? are they interrogating you too, or is this just about me?”

he tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into that faint smirk that was equal parts infuriating and captivating. “i was the one who asked for your interrogation,” he said, his voice calm, almost casual, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.

“what do you mean, you asked?” you demanded, stepping closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest. the sheer size of him, amplified by the sharp lines of his uniform, made him feel larger than life. the dark fabric clung to his frame, accentuating his out worldly height.

his perfume was also divine.

“i need to make sure you’re telling the truth,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. the words hung in the air, a challenge wrapped in concern. his bionic arm rested at his side, the faint hum of its servos almost lost in the tension between you.

your breath hitched, a mix of anger and hurt bubbling to the surface. “you don’t trust me,” you said, your voice quieter now, though no less sharp. “after the stunt you pulled at granny’s house, i should be the one not to trust you”.

his gaze softened, just for a moment, but then his expression hardened again, the familiar steel returning to his eyes. “this isn’t about trust,” he said, his voice low and steady. “it’s about knowing what we’re up against. i can’t afford to take chances—not with you, not with anyone.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, your fists clenching at your sides. “you’re not the caleb i remember,” you muttered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

his jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. the sharp lines of his uniform, the way his eyes seemed to pierce right through you—it was almost too much. “i’m not,” he said, his voice a rough whisper. “that boy’s gone. at least the part of him that had to change so i could protect you right now. and if you can’t handle that—”

“don’t,” you interrupted, your voice shaking slightly. “just forget it.”

the tension between you crackled like static, the air too heavy to breathe. finally, he exhaled, the sound more controlled than the storm in his eyes. “after the interrogation,” he said, his tone softening just a fraction, “you’ll be free to move around skyhaven. no more confinement.”

you didn’t respond, your throat tight with words you couldn’t bring yourself to say. as if sensing the shift, caleb straightened, his imposing figure softening just slightly as he stepped closer. his expression shifted to something quieter, almost tender.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice dropping to that low, comforting tone he used when he wanted you to listen. his flesh hand gently cradled your cheek, the warmth of his touch grounding you, even as you stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. “you know you can trust me, right? pipsqueak?”

the nickname caught you off guard, tugging at something familiar, something from a time when things felt simpler. you blinked, unsure whether to be annoyed or comforted by the teasing lilt in his voice. “don’t call me that,” you muttered, though your heart wasn’t in it.

you blinked hard, feeling the sting of unshed tears threatening to spill over. your chest tightened as the emotions you’d been trying to bury the last two days clawed their way to the surface. his thumb brushed against your cheek, a quiet, unspoken reassurance.

“look at me,” he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost a plea. when you didn’t, he leaned in just enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath.

the warmth in his eyes didn’t fade. “stop acting like you don’t trust me,” he said, the teasing edge softening into something more serious. “i know this isn’t easy for you. hell, it’s not easy for me either. but i need you to believe me when i say i’m doing this for us—for you.”

“for me?” you repeated, your voice laced with annoyance as you crossed your arms. “you shouldn’t keep me in the dark like this, caleb. i don’t like it.”

his expression faltered for just a second, a flicker of guilt crossing his features before he straightened again, his bionic arm twitching faintly at his side. “it’s not that i don’t trust you,” he said, his voice firm but not harsh. “it’s that i need to protect you. and sometimes… that means making decisions you’re not going to like.”

you swallowed hard, his words settling heavily in your chest. he reached out then, his human hand brushing lightly against your arm, grounding you with a touch that was more deliberate than casual.

“you know me,” he whispered in your ear, leaning in slightly, his voice so quiet it was almost a secret. “you know i’d never let anything happen to you. you’re the only one i’ve ever been able to count on. don’t forget that, okay?”

after that, caleb took a step away from you, nodding to the team waiting by the door.

“get her ready,” he ordered, his voice carrying that same commanding edge that left no room for argument.

the team ushered you into a side room, where they worked quickly and efficiently to help you change. the uniform they presented was a masterpiece—sleek and custom-fitted, clearly designed to match the style of caleb’s but with details tailored to you. the base was a deep charcoal grey, nearly black, with white, red and gold piping along the seams and shoulders that shimmered faintly in the light. the high collar hugged your neck, its edges trimmed with subtle leather lines.

the fabric was sturdy yet flexible, designed for both movement and protection, while still accentuating your figure with precision. the insignia on the chest was a smaller, more refined version of the fleet’s emblem, embossed in gold. the sleeves bore intricate embroidery that hinted at your stats as a companion, adding a touch of elegance to the otherwise utilitarian design. the boots were polished to perfection, completing the look with a sense of authority and efficiency.

the team handed you the final piece of the uniform—a sleek military-style hat reminiscent of a pilot’s, crafted with the same precision and detail as the rest of the attire. its charcoal-grey base was accented with a polished silver insignia of the fleet, the mark of the deepspace aviation administration that gleamed in the light.

the room buzzed with quiet efficiency as the staff worked around you, their movements quick but deliberate. the space itself was bright and sterile, with sleek metallic walls that reflected the soft hum of machinery. the air carried a faint smell of ozone and disinfectant, underscoring the precision of the environment. each member of the team seemed hyper-focused on their tasks—adjusting a seam here, brushing away an invisible speck of lint there—all while maintaining a level of deference that left you slightly uneasy.

their respect toward you wasn’t forced, but it felt oddly out of place, as if it was more a reflection of caleb’s authority than anything you’d earned. you caught snippets of murmured conversation between them, their glances respectful yet curious, as though they were trying to piece together who you were and why caleb had ordered such meticulous preparation for you.

when they finished, you stepped out into the hall where caleb was waiting. he stood with his back to you, his broad shoulders filling the space, his bionic arm resting at his side.

for a split second you imagined yourself kicking his ass once again and making him fall face first on the floor for the way he’d been avoiding you the last two days. but then you remembered where you were and what you were doing here.

you’re not lying when saying you had spent a few seconds just glancing at his back without his notice. the sharp lines of his uniform only emphasized the commanding presence he carried, making him look every bit the colonel he was. the moment he felt your presence, he turned, his amethyst eyes locking onto you.

for a moment, caleb didn’t say anything. his gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, taking in every detail of the uniform. his expression was unreadable, but his eyes held something deeper—pride, maybe, or something more possessive.

“it fits,” he said finally, his voice low and steady,

“barely,” you replied, attempting to lighten the moment, though the intensity of his stare made your voice falter.

he stepped closer, his movements deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours. “no,” he said, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “it fits perfectly.”

his eyes swept over you again, lingering just a fraction too long to be casual. “actually,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, “it does more than fit. you look…” he paused, tilting his head slightly as if searching for the right word, though the gleam in his eyes told you he already knew. “exceptional.”

you felt heat rise to your cheeks, his compliment catching you off guard. “exceptional?” you echoed, attempting to keep your voice steady, though it betrayed you with a slight waver. “didn’t think you were the type to throw around fancy words like that, colonel.”

his smirk deepened, the teasing edge in his gaze making your pulse quicken. “i don’t throw them around,” he said smoothly. “only when they’re deserved.”

the way he looked at you made your breath hitch, the weight of his presence making the space between you feel charged. “you didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you murmured, your fingers brushing over the insignia on your chest.

“i did,” he replied simply, his voice dropping even lower. “you’re with me now. they need to see that.” his gaze softened just enough to let a flicker of vulnerability show before it disappeared. “are you ready?”

no, i’m not, you wanted to say, but you doubted your insecurity would make a difference here. you were a hunter on a mission right now, and any false step could lead to your demise and caleb’s plan failing. you hoped he didn’t sense your nervousness, but something told you that you couldn’t hide anything from the man beside you. he always knew how to read you—this part of him resembled zayne a little, though you feared the comparison.

you walked side by side out of the sleeping quarters, your boots echoing softly against the polished floors. the corridor was a stark contrast to the warmth of caleb’s quarters—bright, sterile, and buzzing with activity. as soon as you stepped into view, every officer and soldier below caleb’s rank stopped their tasks, snapping to attention with a crisp salute. the air seemed to shift, charged with an unspoken reverence for the colonel.

the corridor led to an expansive atrium, its vaulted ceiling revealing the full grandeur of skyhaven. the deepspace aviation administration headquarters was a masterpiece of engineering, blending sleek modernity with a palpable sense of purpose. towering support structures arched gracefully overhead, made of an alloy that shimmered faintly under the artificial lighting. expansive observation windows lined the atrium walls, offering a breathtaking view of linkon city far below.

skyhaven itself was an artificial marvel, a massive floating island suspended by an intricate network of protocore technology and magnetic stabilizers. the island wasn’t just a hub for the military—it was a living ecosystem of cutting-edge science and aviation. beneath the steel and glass exterior, skyhaven buzzed with life, housing research centers, training facilities, and state-of-the-art hangars that extended far beyond the viewable limits.

as you glanced out one of the observation windows, a small sigh of relief escaped your lips. linkon city stretched far below, its familiar skyline bathed in the amber glow of the sun. despite everything—your doubts, your fears—there was something comforting about seeing the world from this vantage point. for a moment, you let yourself appreciate the surreal beauty of it, even as caleb’s brisk pace pulled you back into the present.

as you approached the center of the base, the architecture shifted subtly, becoming even more advanced. panels of polished black metal lined the walls, embedded with glowing data streams that flickered in shades of blue and green. interactive holographic displays projected tactical maps, fleet status reports, and complex equations, their light casting faint patterns across the gleaming floor.

caleb led you through a security checkpoint, where biometric scanners and advanced surveillance systems verified your presence. the guards at the station snapped to attention at his approach, their expressions taut with respect. beyond the checkpoint, the central operations hub opened up—a sprawling room filled with tiered workstations and holo-screens that hovered mid-air.

in the heart of the hub stood a group that was unmistakably different. clad in black tactical uniforms, their gear adorned with the subtle insignia of ever, this was the special force. they didn’t salute caleb as the others had; their deference was more subtle, marked by a slight inclination of their heads and a sharp, assessing glance in your direction.

you felt your blood boil as your gaze landed on the emblem stitched into their uniforms—the unmistakable insignia of ever. the sight of it twisted your stomach, bringing back every sleepless night, every unanswered question that had haunted you since josephine’s death. zayne’s reluctant handoff of those cryptic documents had started it all, but it was the whispers of ever that had lingered at the edges of your stay at the N109 zone and your time at the nest that really troubled you.

and now, here they were, not just a name on a paper or a faint memory on onychinus’ air, but living, breathing soldiers standing right in front of you. their presence was as real as the knot forming in your chest.

one of them stepped forward, a woman with sharp features and piercing eyes that seemed to miss nothing. her voice was calm but firm. “colonel,” she said, her gaze briefly flicking to you. “the team is ready for the briefing. we’ve set up in conference room XO2.”

your gaze darted to caleb, who was speaking with the woman at the forefront of ever’s team. his tone was steady, his expression calm, but to you, it was infuriatingly unreadable. how could he be so composed? how could he stand there, shoulder to shoulder with the people who might have made you both into weapons? your mind raced with fragments of memory and half-formed theories.

caleb’s words echoed in your mind: “we’re human weapons, made to destroy each other.” it was a concept you’d rejected at first, clinging to the idea that you were still whole, just a hunter with a weird heart. but the cracks had started to show. the unnatural resilience, the strange flashes of memory that felt both foreign and familiar, the way caleb’s presence had always felt like a tether. had josephine known? had she always known what you were? was that why she left you those documents, why she’d placed zayne in your path?

as you walked toward the mentioned room, the sound of your boots echoed faintly in the metallic corridor, mingling with the synchronized footsteps of the armed guards flanking you. their presence was suffocating, a living barricade of authority around you. their weapons were sleek and unrelenting.

the corridor opened up into a larger chamber, the entrance marked by a reinforced door flanked by additional guards. their posture was identical to the others, their faces emotionless masks as they stepped aside to let you pass. the door hissed open with a low, mechanical groan, revealing a room that was as starkly advanced as the rest of skyhaven.

as you waited for caleb to acknowledge you, suddenly all of the guards left, leaving only caleb, you and the lady in the room.

caleb gestured for you to take a seat, his voice low but firm. “sit,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. you hesitated for a fraction of a second, your gaze flicking to him before complying. the grey-haired woman took a seat across from you, her sharp eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

caleb remained standing, his hands resting on the back of the chair beside you. his presence was steady, but you could feel the tension radiating from him. he leaned down, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your ear.

"do as you’re told and don’t cause any trouble," he whispered, his voice low and edged with an authority that sent a shiver down your spine. "you won’t get hurt, then."

your body stiffened at his words, your fists curling slightly against the cool surface of the table. despite the sharpness in his tone, there was an undercurrent of something else—something almost protective.

the grey-haired woman—you still didn’t know her name—exchanged a few words with caleb and then rose from her seat completely ignoring you. her heels clicked against the floor as she strode toward the door, her sharp gaze lingering on you for a moment before she exited. you caught the faintest glint of approval in her eyes as she passed. the door hissed shut behind her, leaving you and caleb alone in the room… or so it seemed. you glanced to the side, catching sight of the conference window. she was still there, standing with her arms crossed, her sharp silhouette illuminated by the sterile glow of the room beyond. a microphone sat near her hand, her presence palpable even in her absence.

"if you’re understanding the situation, then let’s go ahead and have a nice chat, right, pipsqueak?” caleb said, straightening and placing his hands on the table. “there’s more than one pair of eyes observing you in this room and it will be over before you know it". if he was trying to console you, he was doing a terrible job.

the investigation started with stupid questions like what was your name, age and evol. questions about the chronorift catastrophe resurfaced and time dragged slow by the time caleb got to the more important questions. your patience were running thin, asking yourself why was the need of all this bullshit if they wouldn’t explain things to you at the end of the day.

caleb’s monotone tone annoyed you more than anything, but the eyes observing you in this room stopped you from starting a childish banter with the colonel. speaking of eyes, the grey-haired-scary woman kept hers on you the whole time. you could feel her obsession over this ever entity all the way from fucking linkon city. you hated it.

as time passed by, you started to grow restless when he got to ask the questions about granny. it was infuriating the way he was speaking like he wasn’t there the whole time—like he wasn’t the other child that josephine took under her wing.

your anger faltered when caleb reached into his jacket and pulled out a stack of papers. the documents slid across the table with a deliberate motion, their edges crisp and yellowed with age. the faint scent of old paper mixed with the sterile tang of the room. “these,” he said, tapping the top of the stack with two fingers, “are her personnel files from ever.”

his words hit like a punch to the gut. for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your mind struggling to process what he’d just said. the room seemed to tilt, and you gripped the edge of the chair to steady yourself.

“what?”, your throat was hoarse from answering all of the stupid questions previously, leaving you with a sense of laziness.

“this is what we were capable of gathering from the ever base, turns out they didn’t questioned why we needed it at all”. his words hung in the air as if taunting you.

“what are you on about, caleb?” the words escaped your lips, hollow and trembling. the honorifics were gone now, discarded the second his eyes shifted toward the grey-haired woman observing from the other room.

“would you at least look at it first?”, his annoyed tone made your blood boil.

“not if you’re going to keep playing me, this is not funny.” even after you said that, his lips quirked into a milimetrical smirk.

“i’m not asking you to jump from the observation deck, pipsqueak, i’m asking you to read our granny’s documents”.

you wanted to laugh—this was absurd. it had to be.

“i don’t have a reason to lie to you, do i?” he replied, his voice maddeningly calm. that infuriating tone of his—it made you want to reach across the table and slap the smugness off his face. how dare he accuse the woman who had raised you, who had raised both of you, of being involved in something as insidious as this entity?

“shut up and stop running in circles!” you shoved the chair back as you stood, the legs screeching against the floor. you leaned forward, eyes locked on his with a fire that demanded answers. “is this a game to you? did i come all the way from linkon city for nothing? you said you would help me.”

“and i am helping you.” caleb’s reply was calm, as if he weren’t phased by your outburst. “this is the truth, princess.”

princess. there it was again—that nickname, so casual and so utterly out of place in a room filled with cold, calculated tension. did no one else find it strange that the colonel of the daa was speaking to you like this? a glance at the observation window confirmed that the grey-haired woman hadn’t moved an inch. her gaze remained fixed, expression unreadable.

what had caleb told her about you? about this? and why in god’s name had you agreed to any of it in the first place?

“Y/N.” his voice snapped through the air, sharp and commanding. he saw the way your legs shifted toward the door, the way your hands twitched with the urge to leave. before you could move, his hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. the contact wasn’t rough, but the authority in his grip held you in place. his eyes met yours, and for a second, you froze under the weight of that gaze. it was as if the word “behave” was scrawled across his face, an order you couldn’t defy.

why did he need you to believe in things that felt so unexplainable? what was he trying so hard to convince you?

“she was recruited at thirty-one,” caleb continued, as if you weren’t about to leave this place for good instants ago. “straight out of her postdoctoral research in applied quantum mechanics and energy manipulation. she was already making waves in the scientific community, so ever snapped her up for their advanced energy division.”

“you don’t even know what you’re talking about”. you defended, freeing your hand from his grip and crossing your arms with anger.

“have you never asked yourself why granny didn’t move houses?”, his eyes were fixed on you, the moment charged with unexplained betrayal. still, he didn’t stop there. “she hated that neighborhood and always complained about the kids leaving trash on the sidewalks. still, she never moved. have you never thought about how she was always alone, didn’t had friends, no one visited? how she was able to afford your college? she never spoke about having children and her family never called.”

the rage that had fueled you moments ago was now dulled by confusion. the image of her—your grandmother, your rock—shifted in your mind, colliding with the version caleb was painting. a version you couldn’t reconcile with the woman who used to hum lullabies while baking or press a kiss to your forehead after long days.

but the conviction in caleb’s tone was undeniable, and the papers lying between you were a damning testament to something you weren’t ready to face.

hesitant, you reached for the documents, your fingers trembling. the top page bore a formal header: EVER CORPORATION - PERSONNEL DOSSIER: DR. JOSEPHINE. below it, a photograph of your grandmother stared back at you, her sharp features framed by neatly pinned hair and a lab coat adorned with various badges of rank.

you scanned the documents, words like chief research officer and project architect leaping out at you. “she was the head scientist?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

fucking hell. this was impossible.

“not just head scientist,” caleb said. “she was promoted to director of advanced energy systems by thirty-five. she oversaw the development of key protocore technologies before spearheading project aether. these reports,” he gestured to the papers, “detail her work in bioenergetics, quantum harmonics, and adaptive energy matrices. she didn’t just design the aether core—she built the framework that made it possible.”

he made a pause to glance at you. you felt his eyes on you, heavy with meaning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop reading the details in front of you. every line on the page chipped away at the foundation of what you thought you knew.

“i know this because we used to work together.” the words sliced through the sterile air, shattering the fragile barrier between your disbelief and the truth he was forcing on you. there it was again—an unexplainable revelation that felt shattering and wrong.

what was that again?

your hands froze, trembling slightly as the paper slipped from your grasp. your eyes lifted to meet his, and for a moment, the rest of the room faded into nothing. the hat was off his head now, his fluffy hair slightly mussed as if this moment required something more personal, more vulnerable. it didn’t match the clinical coldness of the room or the gaze of the grey-haired woman observing from the corner. it felt intimate, despite the invasive presence lurking just behind the glass.

“what is that supposed to mean?”, your heart was beating like crazy, you could feel the vibrations thrumming through your ears. “i don’t… i don’t believe you”.

“she recruited me to take care of you.” his voice was quieter now, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something raw in his expression. empathy, maybe. or guilt. it was enough to make him look away, his gaze dropping to the papers spread between you. “as an experiment.”

his words hung in the air like a loaded weapon. the tingling sensation that ran down your spine turned into a full-body shiver. your breath hitched, and tears stung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. your throat tightened as the weight of what he was saying settled in, suffocating and relentless.

“impossible. granny wasn’t a woman on a mission, she was…”, you gulped, “she was intelligent and kind.”

the room spinned, your breath hitched. again, the situation was sadly laughable. were those times you dreamed about blood, about a life that didn’t seem to belong to you all real? were they fragments of your memory? weren’t they just coincidences?

gods, how were you so stupid? how did you never think about this?

“was all of this ever all along?” you muttered, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. the room felt too small, the air too stifling. your hands clenched into fists at your sides, and for a fleeting moment, you wanted to punch something, anything. it felt childish, but the frustration boiling in your chest demanded release.

“why would she hide this?” your voice cracked as you spoke, trembling with the weight of everything you were trying to hold back. “why wouldn’t she tell me?”

you didn’t see a reason to keep this from you. from your life. would you even know about this if you never blindly agreed to show your face in the nest that day? how could something so enormous not make itself accidentally aware throughout one’s whole life?

and how could you be so stupidly blind? what were you, a child?

caleb’s gaze softened slightly. “because she knew what ever would do if they thought you were a threat at that time. she hid the truth to protect you, but in doing so, she left you vulnerable. and now, we’re all paying the price.”

“protecting me?” you echoed, your voice laced with disbelief. “how is lying to me, hiding everything, supposed to protect me? she left me completely blind!”

you were so angry. angry at yourself, angry at the woman who raised you, angry at caleb for not telling you, angry even at fucking zayne for handling you those documents from you. he probably also had secrets about your heart’s condition that he never talked about.

how could anyone possibly hide something like this from you? weren’t they your friends?

how did betrayal felt so bitter and deserving at the same time?

“you were a kid, Y/N,” caleb said, his voice calm but laced with an edge of frustration, as though he were trying to reason with a storm.

“so were you!” you snapped, the words sharp and cutting. the knot of anger and betrayal in your chest tightened, spreading like fire through your veins. “you never… did you never think about how i would feel? god, caleb.”

caleb leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his fingers interlocking as he spoke. “she left you blind because she knew they were watching. she couldn’t risk them finding out how much she cared about you, how far she was willing to go to shield you. the second they saw you as a threat—or as leverage—everything she’d done would have been for nothing.”

his words settled over you like a heavy fog, dense and suffocating. you wanted to reject them, to push back against the idea that your grandmother—the woman who had been your everything—had willingly kept you in the dark about a past so entwined with danger.

“did she fucking planned her death as well? did she know about the explosion that day?”. you were practically raging now, venom laced with hurt spitting from your mouth as your body leaned over the table, trying to make caleb snap you back into reality. why was he telling you all of these nonsense?

“she asked me to end her the moment she posed a threat to you. she didn’t know about the explosion, i didn’t tell her.” his low tone showed a masked hurt that almost offended you.

oh, you were so pissed.

“so, what?” you said. “she let them turn me into this… thing? this experiment? and then she just… left?”

“she didn’t just leave. she stayed in their system as long as she could, long enough to set things in motion for you to have a chance of surviving. she made choices that no one should ever have to make, and she paid for them.” your eyes watered and your chest tightened.

“do i really have a chance?” you asked, your voice trembling as you pointed toward the grey-haired woman standing beyond the glass. “isn’t she from ever? what are you doing with these people, caleb? heavens, i can’t even understand you anymore.”

his face didn’t change immediately, but his shoulders seemed to tense, the weight of your words pressing down on him. when he spoke, his voice was low, steady. “josephine told me everything,” he began, his gaze dropping to the table for just a moment. “right after i turned old enough to understand what it all meant. she didn’t just tell me—she made me promise.”

“promise what?!” your voice cracked, and the anger that had been simmering inside you surged again, fueled by the sharp sting of treachery.

“to protect you,” he said, his words slow and deliberate, as though each one was a confession. “she used me, Y/N. she knew what was going to happen. she knew what they’d try to do to you, what they’d use you for. and she… she made me a part of her plan.”

“her plan?” you echoed, the bitterness in your voice cutting through the air. “what plan, caleb? because from where i’m standing, all i see is a mess she left for me to clean up.”

his jaw tightened, and he finally looked back at you, his amethyst eyes sharp but filled with something raw and unspoken. “it wasn’t just her plan. it became mine too. i let her use me, Y/N, because i thought—i hoped—it would mean you’d never have to deal with this. i thought i could handle it for both of us.”

“and what?” you snapped, leaning forward as your frustration boiled over. “you just decided for me? you and her both?”

“i didn’t decide for you,” he shot back, his voice rising for the first time, though his control quickly reined it in. “i decided to protect you. there’s a difference.”

“why would you do that?” you asked, your voice quieter now but no less cutting. “because it feels like all both of you did was trap me in this endless nightmare.”

caleb’s patience snapped. you saw the moment it happened—something dark flickered behind his eyes, replacing the calm exterior he’d been holding onto. without warning, he rose from his chair, the scrape of metal against the floor echoing through the room. before you could react, his hands slammed down on the table on either side of you, caging you in with his sheer presence.

he leaned over you, his frame engulfing yours entirely. his proximity forced you backward, the cool surface of the table pressing against your spine as you arched slightly to meet his gaze. the shift in his demeanor sent a shiver down your spine—not fear, but something far more complicated. his presence was suffocating, his intensity overwhelming, and yet you couldn’t look away.

if anyone entered the room now, they wouldn’t even know you were there, hidden entirely behind his broad frame. he was close—too close—and every inch of him radiated authority and tension.

you still felt anger pulse inside you. even with his figure towering over you, you stared right back into his eyes, daring him to explain. but caleb wasn’t waiting for your permission to speak—his words spilled out, sharp and unrelenting, as though he’d been holding them in for far too long.

“you can scream all you want, princess,” he began, his voice dangerously low but cutting, “but i’m not letting you blame the woman who gave me the chance of loving you for something she regretted every day of her life until the day she died.” his eyes burned into yours, daring you to interrupt, but you stayed silent, your breath caught in your throat.

“she designed the aether core,” he continued, the words bitter, as if they left a bad taste in his mouth, “but she didn’t know it was going to be put in a fucking child. she told me that. she swore it to me.” his voice cracked slightly, a rare vulnerability slipping through before he pressed on.

“she would never partake in something so inhuman and cruel if she’d known about it,” he said, his tone hardening again. “when she realized what they were doing—what you were—she made a choice. she could’ve run and left us behind, but she didn’t do that.” his gaze softened for a brief moment before his jaw tightened. “she took us with her.”

his next words struck you like a blow. “ever knew the potential the aether core had. so they created an antidote. me.”

the silence that followed was deafening, his confession hanging heavy in the air between you. your heart raced, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond—not yet.

“before i even knew you, princess, our destinies were bound,” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “we were never meant to be anything else—two halves of a cruel design, bound together by ruthless people driven by intense power.”

he leaned in slightly, his presence overwhelming. “when she told me everything, when i finally understood, i made a choice. i sacrificed myself to continue the fucking experiments ever wanted me to participate, so no one else in this world would have the capacity to destroy you other than me.” he straightened, his tone heavy with finality. “only me.”

you heard your own hiccup as if it were from somene else.

"kirsten was her colleague," caleb said, his voice steady but carrying an edge of urgency. "she also left the project behind when things got heated. since then, they’ve been trying to capture you. she was the one who handed me these documents." he gestured toward the stack of papers, his gaze flicking briefly to the woman observing you from beyond the glass. "grandma trusted her."

your surprise was impossible to hide. your eyes darted to the woman, her stoic presence now layered with a significance you hadn’t grasped until this moment.

"we both are trying to find a way to protect you," caleb continued, his tone firm. "and infiltrating ever is the first step to do that. we need to gather as much information we can and gain their trust so we can take them down and their fucking crazy plan of interstellar domination."

oh fuck, they wanted the aether core for that?

he leaned closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. "do you understand it now, pipsqueak?" his voice softened at the nickname, but the weight of his words lingered, pressing into the space between you.

the room seemed to shrink as the truth settled over you like a heavy cloak, suffocating and cold. your chest tightened, and before you realized it, tears began streaming down your face, silent but relentless. you hadn’t even noticed them falling until caleb stepped closer, his expression softening in a way that made your heart ache even more.

his hands cupped your cheeks, the calloused pads of his fingers brushing against your skin as he tried to wipe the tears away.

“do you understand how i need you to live, princess?” caleb’s voice cracked, raw with emotion, tugging at strings in your heart you didn’t even realize were there. “i love you so much, you have no idea the limits i’d go to prove it to you.”

his words settled over you like a tempest, leaving you breathless and trembling. it wasn’t just what he said—it was the way he said it, every syllable laced with unrelenting devotion and a darkness that both frightened and comforted you. you felt so dangerously cherished, as though his love could burn the world down if it meant keeping you safe.

the worst part? you could say you felt the same.

his grip on your face tightened, not painfully but with a firm desperation, his calloused thumbs brushing away the lingering wetness on your cheeks. his eyes softened as they held yours, the fierceness in them giving way to something almost pleading.

“if you want me to beg, i’ll fucking beg you, princess. if you want me on my knees, i’ll do it. just stay here with me where i can see you.” he whispered, his voice barely audible but impossibly steady, his tone dropped so low it was almost a growl, the sound vibrating through the air and sinking deep into your chest. his jaw tightened, the sharp angles of his face accentuated by the tension coiling in his body.

why did his love felt so crushing?

his hands stayed on your face, grounding you, but his grip was firm, as if he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. his eyes, dark and stormy, searched yours, waiting for an answer you weren’t sure you could give.

“why are you doing this to me?” you finally whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of his confession. “why do you care so much?” the question felt sacred, as if it wasn’t meant to be spoken aloud, but you couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

his jaw tightened, his hands still cupping your face as his eyes locked onto yours. for a moment, he didn’t speak, as though the answer was too heavy, too raw to give voice to.

“did they hurt you, caleb?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “in those experiments?”

your clenched fists, tight with anger and frustration, slowly dissolved into something softer. the tension in your body ebbed away, leaving only the raw ache in your chest. before you could second-guess yourself, your hands moved on their own, rising to his face. your fingertips brushed against his jaw, tentative at first, before settling into a gentle caress.

“they can hurt me all they want,” caleb said, his voice low and raw, each word cutting through the air like a blade. “as long as they keep their distance from you, i’ll endure it. i’d end myself if it meant that you would never be hurt again.”

his gaze bore into yours, fierce and unrelenting, yet there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest ache. it wasn’t just desperation—it was devotion, the kind that threatened to drown you in its intensity.

“they can’t control my evol anymore, their plan of the antidote backfired” caleb said, his voice vulnerable as if only talking about that chamber already caused him agony. “that’s why they’re scared. the last neural control experiment—the zero gravity chamber was destroyed because the machines couldn’t handle it. they wanted to transform me into a robot, somehow my mind never cooperated”. his gaze averted to the emblem on your chest.

you swallowed hard, his words sinking into your brain like lead. “aren’t we a danger to each other, caleb?” you asked, your voice trembling, hiccups breaking through as tears streaked your face. you were scared. “am i capable of hurting you? do i… isn’t it dangerous if we stay together?”

he stared at you for a long moment, his gaze unwavering and intense. “if there’s anyone in this world i’d let hurt me, it’s you, princess,” he said, planting a kiss on your forehead as he did when you were both kids. and then his tone shifted into something darker, almost obsessive. “i don’t fucking care what you do to me, you can hurt me all you want if that makes you fucking happy. don’t you understand?”

“don’t say that…” you murmured, trying to avert your gaze, your cheeks burning hot with embarrassment and suffocation.

he smirked, a sharp, knowing curve of his lips as his thumb brushed another tear from your cheek. “i want to create a world where it’s just the two of us,” he said, his voice dropping to a low whisper that sent shivers racing down your spine.

his bionic hand gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, the unyielding strength of his hold making your breath hitch. he leaned in closer, so close his lips nearly brushed your ear. “just say the word, and i’ll do it,” he murmured, the heat of his breath against your skin sending your mind spinning. “i’ll end everything. you know that.”

“caleb…” you murmured, your palms pressing gently against his chest, trying to create even the smallest bit of distance between you. “i thought you had gone crazy.” your voice trembled as you looked up at him, the weight of his intensity still bearing down on you. “i’m sorry you had to endure that… because of me.” your breaths came quickly, your words tumbling out before you could stop them. “i… i still think you’re crazy, though.”

a flicker of amusement crossed his face, but you didn’t give him a chance to reply.

“but… what do we do now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your thoughts spinning wildly. “do they know you brought me here?”.

“all of the personnel outside is from ever, they think i’m convincing you to willingly participate in the project. make you turn into some kind of sacrifice for humanity. bullshit.” just saying it out loud seemed painful for him, and hearing it sounded even more crazy.

“they wanted to start everything straight away, test the energy of the aether core inside of you before we could even talk. i convinced them to let me handle you, that’s why i can’t let you leave skyhaven for now.” he sounded almost guilty when saying those words, waiting patiently for your reaction so he could be deemed innocent.

“so i am your hostage, basically?”, something akin to amusement surged in your face, dried tears staining your rosy cheeks.

“that depends if you are willing to cooperate, just say the word and i’ll fly us across west coast immediately.” his gaze made you feel the most heartbroken and cherished woman in the world. cruel. “i don’t plan to stay here forever”.

“what about kirst—” your words stopped abruptly as realization struck you like a lightning bolt. your eyes widened as your breath hitched in your throat. “oh my fucking god, caleb, kirsten!”

panic surged through you, and you shoved him back with far more force than you intended, as if he were suddenly contagious. your cheeks burned hot as your gaze darted toward the observation room. you could feel every beat of your heart hammering against your ribs.

from where you stood, the glass gave an impeccable view of everything that had transpired. your stomach churned as you imagined what she might have seen, what conclusions she might have drawn. but as your eyes landed on the empty chair, your confusion deepened. kirsten wasn’t there.

“where… where did she go?” you stammered, your embarrassment morphing into unease. “wasn’t she just—she was right there!” you pointed toward the glass, your voice climbing an octave.

“jesus, when did you become so strong, pipsqueak?” caleb muttered, his tone equal parts stunned and impressed as he steadied himself. the few inches you’d managed to push him away seemed to amuse him more than anything else, his eyes glinting with an undeniable sense of pride.

“caleb, kirsten!” you exclaimed, pointing toward the observation room with wide, exasperated eyes. “did she see us? oh my god, she might think i’m a whore!”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. “c’mon, pipsqueak, don’t push it,” he said, his voice calm and teasing as he stepped forward. “i bet she understands. we were made for each other, after all.” his tone turned deliberately corny, and you could feel your cheeks burning like they were on fire again.

“don’t say that!” you snapped, mortified, as he tried to close the gap you’d created between you. you quickly put a hand on his chest to stop him, your glare sharp. “don’t touch me, you perv!”

caleb smirked, his amusement only growing at your reaction. “are you seriously worried about an 70-year-old woman judging you right now?” he asked, his tone dripping with disbelief, “after the life or death situation we just discussed?”

“you can’t keep saying these things to a woman…” you muttered, your voice trailing off as you stubbornly ignored the look caleb was giving you. you kept the distance between you, maintaining the few inches of air.

“things? what things?” he teased, his tone light and playful, though his eyes held that familiar mischievous glint.

you groaned, feeling the heat creep back up your neck. “like… like you’re going to die for me! you asked for a custom-made uniform for me just like yours, do you know what this looks like for other people? and that thing you said about being on your knees? jesus…” you stammered, your words tangling over each other as your embarrassment grew. “you shouldn’t say those things in moments like this!”

caleb’s lips curved into a slow smirk, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. “i want them to look at you and remember who you’re with,” he murmured. “do you want me to prove it?”

your eyes widened in horror as you saw him begin to shift, his knees bending slightly as though he were actually going to kneel in front of you.

“oh my god, caleb. get up! my god!” you hissed, your hands flying out to stop him before he could make good on his teasing. your gaze darted toward the window and the door, nerves prickling at the thought of someone walking in and witnessing this absurd scene.

caleb, meanwhile, was practically doubled over in laughter, clearly finding your panic far too amusing. “i’ll keep that in mind,” he said between chuckles, his tone teasing as ever. “you don’t like things in public, princess. noted.”

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” you snapped, your voice climbing a few octaves in your exasperation. your hands flew up to cover your face, both to hide your flaming cheeks and to block out the infuriating sight of his grin. “oh my god…”

caleb’s laughter only grew louder at your reaction, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. “relax, pipsqueak,” he said, his voice still laced with amusement. “i’m just saying I’ll keep it private next time.”

next time? sweet heavens.

you glared at him, your cheeks burning hotter than ever. “you still haven’t told me your plan, it’s time we get out of here, they will start getting suspicious,” you said, your voice firm despite the lingering embarrassment.

“oh, don’t worry, baby. they know they’re dead if they interrupt us”.

despite his infuriating smirks and relentless teasing, you couldn’t deny the way caleb’s presence steadied something deep within you—a part of yourself that had always felt untethered, incomplete. there was a gravity to him—oh the irony of it all—, an unshakable certainty in his actions, even when everything else around you felt like chaos. the pieces of your past, fragmented and jagged, were beginning to fall into place.

as you stared at his grin right now, you asked yourself if it would be the right time to confess your feelings for him since childhood. he knew you loved him, but you still wanted to say those three little words.

you hated how much you didn’t want to believe him, but there was no escaping the truth: caleb had always been there, weaving himself into the fabric of your life in ways you hadn’t fully understood until now.

“i trust you, caleb. with my life.”

the words felt heavier than you’d anticipated, and for a moment, the air between you shifted. you watched as his expression changed, his playful smirk fading into something more serious. his gaze locked onto yours, and you could see the way your confession hit him, sharp and profound, like it was a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands.

but how could you not? how could you not trust the man when just being near him brought a peace that felt almost childlike—a fleeting memory of safety you hadn’t realized you’d lost? when every sacrifice he made screamed of a love so consuming it defied logic, a love that compelled him to climb through military ranks with a single-minded determination, as if his very existence depended on it? he spent his days training, his nights planning, and his rare moments of respite killing parts of himself, carving away his own humanity, all to try and make you feel whole.

your life had been in his hands from the very beginning, cradled by the will of a man whose obsession burned brighter than any protocore, whose evol bent not to power but to the unrelenting need to love you.

caleb’s love was a force of nature, raw and unyielding, and even if it frightened you, even if it left you reeling, you couldn’t deny the truth of it: it was the only constant in a world that had always sought to tear you apart.

caleb’s love made you shiver. and for some reason, you didn’t mind that at the moment.

“me and kirsten already have a plan,” he said finally, his voice quieter but laced with determination, glancing at the watch displayed in the hologram behind you. “i’ll tell you everything when we’re completely alone. i promise.”

honestly? right now you just wanted to kiss the man in front of you stupid and spill all your love on him. the love you have felt since your first time playing kitty cards with him and kissing each other’s cheeks as kids.

but you were quickly reminded of where you were when you glanced at the door and stared at the daa emblem painted on it. you felt like a wreck of emotions.

the change in scenery left you gasping for air as caleb slowly guided you out of the conference room. the ever personnel not even blinking as you and the colonel passed through them.

your eyes darted around, searching for something familiar, something real to ground you amidst the mess of revelations swimming in your mind. part of you hoped to see kirsten, her sharp eyes and scary aura a strange kind of reassurance in the chaos. but when the grey-haired woman was nowhere to be seen, a small, unexpected wave of relief washed over you.

maybe it was better this way. maybe you weren’t ready to face her yet—not after everything caleb had told you, not when the weight of your own memories, or lack thereof, felt like an anchor dragging you down.

you stared at linkon city sprawling below skyhaven, the glittering lights painting an intricate mosaic against the inky darkness of dawn. from the observation decks you walked over, the city looked almost surreal, a world that felt both achingly familiar and impossibly distant. something tugged at your chest—a dull ache of nostalgia—at the thought of your childhood home hidden somewhere within those shimmering lights.

the tech center that skyhaven was, with its seamless blend of towering glass structures and advanced machinery humming quietly around you, filled you with a strange sense of innocence. as though everything you’d endured until this day could be set aside as a different life of yours.

wasn’t this exactly what the core inside of you was? so powerful it could transcend planets, weaving its influence across time and space—capable of creating not just miracles but catastrophes?

weren't you a walking human weapon? haven't you always been one?

your thoughts were interrupted by caleb gesturing toward his room, his tone calm as he said he’d finish up and spend the rest of the day with you. you barely registered the words, too lost in the whirlwind of your mind to notice how the two of you had already made your way back to his quarters.

just as he turned to leave, you reached out, grabbing his hand instinctively. the touch froze him in place, his eyes immediately locking onto yours in his chambers. you wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in your throat. would it sound strange to admit you didn’t want to be alone? to confess that you were scared?

caleb stepped closer, his presence grounding you like a warm tether against the cold, sterile hallway outside his room. “you’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice quiet, gentle. it wasn’t a question so much as an acknowledgment of the weight you carried. he grabbed your hand on his.

you nodded, your grip tightening slightly on his hand. “it’s just… too much,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “to think something so small—something inside me—has the power to destroy so much. reshape worlds. ruin lives. it fucking terrifies me, caleb.”

he didn’t answer right away, but his silence felt steady, unhurried. his thumb brushed lightly against the back of your hand, a simple gesture, but one that somehow made it easier to breathe.

“listen to me,” he said, his voice low, steady. “you’re allowed to be scared. no one’s asking you to shoulder this alone. not me, not anyone.”

you nodded, your throat tight with emotion, as he squeezed your hand gently. “i’ll just go fix some things, and i’ll be right back, okay? i’m not leaving you alone anymore.”

his words struck something deep within you, a vulnerability you’d tried so hard to keep buried. you blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill, wondering why you were so emotional today.

“promise me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. was it selfish? probably. but at this point, you didn’t care. caleb cared about you—loved you, even—and you were done pretending you didn’t need him.

his lips curved into a soft smile, one that held more warmth than his usual teasing grins. he leaned in slightly, his gaze steady and full of affection. “i promise,” he said, the words carrying a weight that made your heart stutter.

you watched his back turn to you after he left another kiss on your forehead, the warmth of it lingering long after he stepped away.

maybe the betrayal would fade someday, its sharp edges dulled by time and the quiet moments like this that he gifted you. or maybe it wouldn’t. maybe the wound would remain, a reminder of everything he had done to you—and for you.

but even now, as you stood there watching him walk away, you couldn’t deny the part of yourself that clung to what he had done. the part of you that loved him for it, no matter how much you tried to resist.

after all, you were his since the beginning.

author's notes: tell me i didn't ruin this halfway bc that is what i felt when i was finishing it. next chapter they will be doing the woompakoompa so buckle up (i just hope it doesn't turn into a 20k words smut scene) lord help me. i'll cry if nobody comments below because my week's sanity was poured into this work. just kidding (i'm not), i love you freaky caleb girlies, see you next time, xo.

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