#did i have to make this so long? yes next question

[fuddaroundandgetbueckets]

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Warnings: Sexual content, swearing probably

WC: ~5K

A/N: I suck at updating so whoever is reading and liking this series is a real one 😊 kisses love you all. I am ovulating clearly lmao. Song is unrelated I just have it on loop this week cause Brandy has always been that girl. Jealous P confirmed in pt 13 🤞🙂‍↕️

A Long Time Coming Part 12 – DTR? No.

Fall – 2022

“What do you –”

Swoosh.

“Mean –”

Swoosh.

“Amari and Aaliyah –”

Clunk.

“Caught you and Azzi –”

Swoosh.

“Making out –”

Clunk.

“And I wasn’t there?” Nika asked incredulously, turning her body towards Paige with her hands on her hips.

The pair stood in the practice gym alone, Paige passing balls to Nika as she practiced her mid-range.

Paige rolled her eyes. “You’re being weird.” She let out an amused chuckle at Nika’s offended face.

“And you’re in love with your best friend.”

Paige blinked at her, mouth agape. “Dude.”

Nika raised a brow. “What? I thought we were stating facts.”

Paige gave her a flat look and chucked her next ball. “You can talk crap when you can make three shots in a row.”

Nika twirled the ball in her hand, turning back to the rim. “It’s not talking crap if it’s the truth.”

Swoosh.

Nika turned her head to face Paige, catching her next ball easily before pausing. “Cause it’s true, right?”

Paige sighed, “Nika.”

They locked eyes. The air of teasing had left, and a look of understanding remained. Nika placed the ball under her arm, tilting her head. “You love her, don’t you?”

Paige pursed her lips, kicking invisible dust on the ground. The weight of Nika’s question was too heavy, the silence that followed was too loud.

What was she supposed to say?

The simple answer was that yes, she loved Azzi.

Was she supposed to admit out loud that her time spent without Azzi was just her quietly waiting to be with her again? That even now, helping Nika practice, a small part of her brain was acutely aware of Azzi lifting in the weight room nearby. That she already had an extra water bottle filled with Azzi’s favorite electrolyte flavor to hand her when she drove them both home later, where she would pretend like she hadn’t thought to do so since she woke up this morning.

Was she supposed to talk about how she had thought about her hands tracing Azzi’s underwear every delightful time her brain remembered? The noises she had made making imprints on her mind, her fast breaths branding the skin of her neck. How if she could properly put weight on her knee she would have already been on the floor, taking her in her mouth to show her how much she wanted her.

No – she couldn’t admit any of that. Because the way she felt about Azzi wasn’t just love.

She wanted to care for her, adore her, worship her.

She was so deep, so foregone, so in love with Azzi Fudd it was borderline sickening.

Nika let out an exasperated sigh at Paige’s prolonged silence. Turning back to the rim, she asked, “So, what happened after they caught you?”

Swoosh.

Paige thought back to two weeks ago, remembering Amari and Aalyiah’s high-pitched squeals and eardrum-breaking, inquisitive yelling.

“When did this happen?”

“HOW did this happen?”

“Are you guys dating?”

“Can I officiate the wedding?”

“No, I want to.”

“We both can.”

“Fine.”

Paige and Azzi stared at the pair, still keeping an arms-length of distance between each other. Paige cleared her throat, feeling her heart pulsing in her ears. “Can you guys just…not tell anyone?”

Azzi snapped her to face to her then, wide-eyed. Paige didn’t break her eye contact with Azzi as she spoke to the girls on the couch. “We’re still…figuring things out. Just us.”

A hush fell over Amari and Aalyiah as they watched Paige and Azzi give each other soft smiles.

“This is so adorable, it’s disgusting,” Amari whispered. Aalyiah simply hummed.

“They were chill about it,” Paige told Nika. “I asked them not to say anything ‘cause we’re still figuring it out.”

Nika grabbed the ball out of Paige’s hand, beginning to dribble in circles around her.

“And what exactly are you ‘figuring out’?”

Paige paused again, crossing her arms. “What is this, twenty questions?”

“This me, helping you process your emotions like an adult so you can finally date the girl you’ve been wanting for years.”

Paige grimaced to herself at the honesty in Nika's words.

Obviously if she could, she would’ve claimed Azzi to be her girl, like, yesterday. But everything happening with Azzi was uncharted territory, and Paige would be damned if she crossed a line on accident. She needed to make sure Azzi was comfortable, she needed her clearance. Plus, who was Paige to complain? She was routinely hooking up with the most beautiful girl in the world who was seemingly into her as well. Life could be substationonally worse.

Paige shifted on her feet, feeling slightly uncomfortable in expressing herself. “Az and I are good right now. I’m happy, she’s happy. We’ll have ‘the talk’ when it feels right, that’s all.”

Nika hummed. “And the next time she gets asked out or hit on, what then?”

Paige scoffed, “Now, why would you say some dumb shit like that?”

Nika chuckled to herself, dribbling the ball down the court, and away from Paige. “Look at you, all jealous over a hypothetical. Green isn’t your color, P!”

Paige watched her make a layup at the basket, her jaw unintentionally tense. She rubbed at it, feeling a bit ridiculous at how easily she became jealous over the concept of someone approaching Azzi.

Whatever.

Paige and Nika turned their heads as they heard the loud echo of the exit doors opening. Aubrey and Azzi stood in the doorway, shirt sleeves rolled up to their shoulders and curls slightly matted to their foreheads from the heavy lift they just had.

Paige, respectfully, wanted to jump Azzi.

Azzi beamed at Paige as they locked eyes. “We’re getting Chipotle, you guys want to come?”

Paige, her feet unconsciously already making their way towards Azzi, grinned and removed her car keys from her pocket. “I’ll drive.”

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

The four girls sat at the campus Chipotle, their conversation gone silent as they scarfed down their burrito bowls. Prior to this, Paige had rushed to the register and slammed her credit card down to pay for everyone (primarily Azzi) and had elicited groans from Aubrey and Nika. The small, grateful smile from Azzi was worth it.

The pair sat close as usual, Paige’s hand finding itself on Azzi’s thigh under the table in between bites, unbeknownst to Nika and Aubrey across from them.

(It was completely obvious).

(At first sitting down, Paige dragged Azzi’s chair by the leg so that their thighs could touch even though they were a completely respectable space apart. Nika had rolled her eyes and Aubrey and raised her brows into her diet coke, while Azzi blushed with a mouthful of tortilla chips).

“Dance team is hosting a little darty. Think we should stop by,” Aubrey said, breaking the silence. Her face turned red as three pairs of eyes turned to her.

“Dance team?” Paige asked, a mischievous smile playing on her face. Aubrey had talked to her about a girl she was interested in on the team, Rachel or something.

Aubrey gave her a pointed look, as in, shut up Bueckers, and continued, “Yeah, they’re cool. We should show face, I dunno.”

Azzi shrugged, the silent exchange between Paige and Aubrey going unnoticed by her. “Hm, I don’t know. I have some homework to do, and I feel so gross from lift.”

Paige gave her a sidelong glance before turning to Aubrey. “Yeah, we should go. Dance team girls are chill.”

Nika shrugged, uncaring. “I’m down but let me finish my bowl first.”

Azzi scrunched her brows at Paige, whom she had plans to “study” with after lift. As much as Paige wanted to immediately lay in bed and cuddle with Azzi after a long day of classes and practice, she had to pull out her wing woman card for Aubrey. Aubrey never disclosed liking anyone, and her showing not only interest but also initiative in getting to know someone was monumental.

She nudged her shoulder with Azzi’s, giving her a small smile as their friends turned back to their food. “We’ll go for a little and then study, okay?” she said quietly. Azzi pursed her lips before nodding slowly.

Had their friends not been there, she would have given her a soft peck on the lips and cheek to reward her for going with the flow and looking so pretty under the Chipotle fluorescent lights. Instead, she squeezed the top of Azzi’s knee and patted her on the back.

“Finish up your food, princess. You take forever to eat.”

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

Azzi did not finish her food, so she made Paige carry her to-go bag as they stepped foot onto the Dance Team house lawn.

Two speakers were blearing some rap song Azzi vaguely recognized was trending on Tik Tok, and the lawn was littered with red solo cups and girls in crop tops, jeans, and AF1s. Azzi felt miserably out of place in her UConn lift uniform that was semi-matte from her dried sweat, and her haphazard bun with hair that had lost its curl pattern hours ago. To her side, Nika looked unimpressed and unbothered as she chewed gum and eyed everyone suspiciously with a hand at her hip.

To her other side, Paige and Aubrey were whispering to each other conspiratorially. She scrunched her face in confusion.

Paige and Azzi had been hooking up for two weeks now, keeping their secret rendezvous to themselves. Most nights, Paige found herself in Azzi’s bed or vice versa, and Azzi had never felt closer or more infatuated with her best friend. To her benefit, when Amari and Aalyiah had caught them making out, at least she had people to talk to about it. By talk about it, that meant mostly being grilled on when they would be defining whatever they were doing.

Bits of her last conversation regarding Paige with Amari and Aalyiah flooded her mind.

“Are you going to have ‘the talk’?”

“I don’t know, maybe?”

“Do you want to date her?”

“Guys, we’re just having fun right now. Relax.”

"Ah yes, Azzi Fudd. Notorious for going with the flow."

Azzi threw a pillow at both of them.

“But you like her?”

Azzi blushed. “Obviously.”

“Do you want to be exclusive?”

“You’re both annoying."

A pause.

"But yes.”

Now, sitting on a fence ledge on the side of the lawn with Nika as Paige and Aubrey laughed with a gaggle of Dance Team girls, Azzi felt slightly nauseous. Paige stood there, looking tall and confident as ever, holding tightly onto her Chipotle bag as she gave a brunette a relaxed smile.

The Chipotle bag was her only claim on her.

Great.

The brunette was pretty in a feminine way, with glossy hair, glossy lips, and eyelashes that reached the base of her eyebrows. Azzi felt like an insect with her bare face, sweaty pits, and Chipotle breath.

“You’re staring,” Nika murmured, her eyes unmoving from her phone as she scrolled, bored.

Azzi snapped her neck to her, feigning confusion. “What? Staring at what? No, I’m not.”

Nika hummed before meeting her gaze, pouting. “This is boring and there’s no guys for me to talk to.”

Azzi looked over her shoulder at Paige and Aubrey who were sharing a laugh with the brunette, who was throwing her head back dramatically. She only reached their mid-chest. Annoying.

“She’s trying realllyyyy hard,” Nika said, catching where Azzi’s eyes lingered.

“Agreed,” Azzi muttered, unable to hide her irritation.

Nika eyed her then, reaching to grip her shoulder. “Let’s let them know we’re leaving, and we can watch Love Island at my place.”

Azzi faced her again and gave her a small smile. “Sounds good.”

Heaving themselves up, they trapezed through the crowd of drunk girls, carefully avoiding the red solo cups and various vapes that littered the ground. Paige caught Azzi approaching immediately and gave her a lopsided grin.

“Az,” she greeted, wrapping an arm around her shoulder briefly. She turned back to the short brunette next to Aubrey. “This is Rachel, she’s a sophomore on dance.”

Rachel gave her a friendly, wide smile and wave. “Hey! I’ve seen you play. You’re amazing.”

Azzi gave her a tight-lipped smile, nodding. “Thanks, appreciate that,” she responded, completely horrified at her rude curtness but she physically couldn’t stop herself. How was she expected to pretend to be friendly with a girl she had been watching semi-flirt with her situationship best friend while she felt like she looked and smelled like the equivalent of day-old manure?

She turned to Paige, grabbing her to-go bag out of her hands. At Paige’s confusion, she said, “Me and Nik are gonna go. We’ll see you guys later.” Paige looked ready to protest, but her and Nika were already waving goodbye and heading towards their apartments.

Half-turned with Nika in tow, she called back to Rachel, “It was nice meeting you.”

She didn’t look behind her at Paige again, although she felt the burn of her stare on her back.

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

Showered, face washed, and with her leave-in treatment in her hair, Azzi was trying very hard to doom scroll in peace and not think about Paige.

(She was not succeeding).

Her fingers double tapped absently on Instagram, but her mind wandered to Paige’s smile as she talked to the girl at the darty tonight. Was she just being friendly? Did she think she was cute?

God, why did it even matter.

It wasn’t like they were dating.

And Azzi didn’t care that they weren’t. Nope.

She was being adequately territorial of watching the girl she had daydreams of going down on a daily basis smile at another girl, and that was that. Surely.

It wasn’t like Paige and this girl were friends, right?

Right?

Something in Azzi’s brain tingled. It had her fingers moving on their own accord and tapping to Paige’s Instagram profile. Somehow, some way, she ended up at her following list. It was entirely due to her finger’s volition, and not because she wanted to be there. Obviously.

She tapped in the search bar before she could stop.

R-A-C was all she needed, and there she was.

Brown hair. Brown eyes.

UConn Dance Team ‘25.

Azzi’s stomach dropped, and she felt herself scrunching her face in a distorted way.

She felt clinically insane. Like omission-to-the-psych-ward-via-Instagram-following insane. Rubber sole socks waited her.

Her fingers slid over Paige’s profile again, and without a second thought, she blocked her.

Blocked. Paige.

Azzi stared in horror at what she had just done, her fingers somehow shaking and frozen at the same time. Why did she do that? Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest.

She threw her phone out of her hands, and it landed facing up on her comforter next to her. Staring up at her ceiling with her hands clasped together, she forced her mind to calm down. She decided she would justify the block as a way to get herself to stop thinking about some silly, hypothetical acquaintanceship between Paige and this girl and that it didn’t even matter because they weren’t dating, and that Paige is allowed to talk to other people if she wants to, but also why would she want to–

Buzz. Buzz.

Azzi peered down slowly at her phone, to which she was greeted with her photo for Paige’s contact: Paige at the State Fair wearing a balloon hat in the shape of a wiener dog.

Buzz. Buzz.

Paige was calling her.

Is this a sick joke, she thought.

She picked up her phone like it was dynamite and pressed the green answer button like it would truly blow up. Holding the phone up to her ear, she said wearily, “Hello.”

There was a brief silence on the other end before she heard Paige ask, “Did you block me?”

Azzi stared blankly at the wall ahead of her, blanching. Briefly, she wondered if someone could die from embarrassment. Slowly, to avoid the sound of rustling from her comforter, she moved her phone so she could throw it on speaker. “No,” she replied monotonously as she made her way to her blocked accounts on Instagram.

She could hear Paige’s disbelieving tone through the screen. “Huh,” she said, “That’s weird. Was tryna send you something and your profile couldn’t be found.”

Azzi pursed her lips as she hit ‘unblock’ on Paige’s profile. “Oh, that’s really strange. Not sure.”

“Right.”

“Yup.”

Azzi heard a record scratch in her brain. She would have to refollow Paige.

Could she pay her funeral charge in advance?

Azzi stared at Paige’s profile for a split second before hitting ‘follow’. She laid her phone on her chest and closed her eyes, her face scrunching to a grimace as she waited for Paige’s next words.

“Az.”

“Yup.”

“I just got a follow request from you.”

“Yup.”

Silence.

“Why’s that?”

“Dunno.”

A pause.

“You mad at me?”

Another pause.

“No, why would I be?”

A third pause.

“Give me ten minutes.”

Click.

Azzi didn’t move an inch as she heard the call end. She laid there, staring at the wall ahead, wishing she could crawl into the nearest pothole. She had resolutely accepted her embarrassing fate in having to admit to Paige that she blocked her in the heat of the moment for no good reason. She quietly relished in her solidarity before she heard a muffled greeting by the front door through her wall.

The Jaws theme playing in her mind felt appropriate.

Paige shuffled through Azzi’s bedroom door with a sheepish look, gently shutting it behind her. Her hair was damp from a shower, and her glasses adorned the bridge of her nose.

Azzi caught herself pouting, so she quickly took her bottom lip by her teeth. Paige clicked the roof of her mouth, inching closer as she adjusted the waistband of her sweatpants. “Why you lookin’ at me like that, ma,” she mumbled softly.

Paige flopped down on top of Azzi, her nose connecting with the crook of her neck. Azzi took a deep inhale, not caring if it was probably weird of her to essential sniff her best friend. She smelled like her Dove soap and lavender shampoo, and Azzi’s arms reflexively found themselves wrapping around her crewneck-covered middle. “’M not lookin’ at you any type of way,” she muttered into Paige’s shoulder.

She felt Paige give her neck a soft kiss, her stomach fluttering. “Mm, and you ain’t mad at me?” Paige’s lips brushed Azzi’s skin with every word.

“Not mad.”

Paige lifted to give her a kiss on the cheek. Then another. “You promise?”

Azzi nodded into her neck. “Mhm.”

Silence momentarily fell between the two as they held each other. The mutual feeling of calm, and home, and all was well coursed through them in an unspoken understanding.

Paige propped herself on her elbows on both sides of Azzi’s head, staring down at her and caressing her cheek with her thumb. “Why did you block me, Az?”

Azzi pulled her bottom lip in her teeth again. “Didn’t.”

Paige took her lip out from under her teeth with a slow drag of her thumb. She leaned down and gave it a quick kiss that had Azzi’s eyes fluttering shut. “C’mon, ma.”

Azzi sighed through her nose, eyes remaining shut as she knew Paige was staring down at her. “It’s stupid,” she said in an irritated whisper.

She could hear Paige’s lopsided smile in her reply, “Don’t think anything about you is stupid.” Her thumb went back to dragging across Azzi’s cheekbone, comforting.

Azzi threw her forearm over her eyes, feeling her eyebrows scrunch together. “I got jealous over you talking to some other girl today.”

A beat ticked by before Azzi felt one of Paige’s hands slip under her t-shirt and caress her hip bone, and the other slowly lifting her forearm off her face. Azzi peeked one eye open, the other remaining scrunched closed. Paige was looking down at her fondly, almost amused.

No – definitely amused.

“Is that funny to you?” Azzi snapped.

Paige leaned down and kissed her cheek with a lopsided smile planted on her lips. “A little, yeah.”

Azzi scoffed, shoving Paige away with a hand at her chest. “Glad I could entertain you. Now, go home.”

Paige shook her head, still smiling as she sat back against Azzi’s headboard next to her. In a swift motion, Paige scooped her up until she was sat in her lap, knees on either side of her hips. Azzi was quickly learning she had no resolve when it came to being this close to Paige.

Paige let her hands slide up Azzi’s thighs slowly, resting lazily at her hips, fingers pressing lightly into the top of her ass. She dragged her forward until their chests touched and Azzi’s arms wrapped behind her head.

Kissing across the bicep that rested near her head, Paige mumbled softly against skin, “I only got eyes for you, Az.”

Azzi’s breath hitched, her lower stomach doing backflips. Paige dragged Azzi’s hand that rested behind her head to her lips and kissed each finger. “I know who you probably saw me talkin’ to – that’s Aubrey’s girl. Was just tryna help her out.”

“Really?” Azzi breathed, feeling slightly lightheaded as Paige grabbed her other hand.

“Really,” Paige said, kissing across her knuckles. Azzi closed her eyes, letting her forehead fall to Paige’s.

“I feel stupid,” she whispered. Paige dragged her closer, sliding her hand up and down her back.

Azzi sighed, continuing, “I guess it’s ‘cause I just don’t know what we are.”

Paige paused at that, the pads of her fingertips putting pressure on Azzi’s spine. She heard Paige swallow and take a shallow breath.

“What do you want us to be?”

Azzi blinked her eyes open, finding Paige already staring at her. She searched her blue eyes, hoping to find the answer she was looking for. She traced the gold flecks of her irises, illuminated by the single nightside lamp to her side. Her mind momentarily blanked as she was overwhelmed with thoughts of, you’re so beautiful and I want to be yours.

“I don’t know,” Azzi whispered. But she did know. She was just scared to say it.

She felt Paige deflate slightly underneath her. A breath passed between them.

“We’ll figure it out,” the blonde told her quietly, reaching up to caress her cheek once more. “You scared?”

Azzi nodded, leaning forward to give her a quick kiss. Before she could pull away, Paige held her there for another.

“Me too,” she whispered against her lips.

They held each other in comfortable silence for a few moments, sharing small kisses here and there. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when Paige was dragging her lips across Azzi’s jaw that she spoke again.

“You know how bad I want you all the time?”

Azzi closed her eyes, letting a coy smile play on her lips as her hands rested on Paige’s chest. The feeling of her lips dragging across her skin was borderline euphoric, and every cell on her body felt alive.

“No, but you can tell me.”

Paige let out a breath of a laugh. “I’m sure you’d like that.” She pressed soft kisses below Azzi’s ear, talking her earlobe in her mouth for a quick nibble before continuing down the slope of her neck. “If you could live in my mind, you’d know how ridiculous it is to think I was thinkin’ of anyone else like that.”

Azzi turned her head to press a kiss below Paige’s ear, still smiling as she felt her hands slide over her ass. “Your mind sounds like a scary place.”

Paige clicked, the pads of her fingers pressing further into Azzi’s exposed skin that had ridden up from her shorts. “Nah,” she muttered low, “You’re the star in there. You’d love it.”

Azzi let out a breath through her nose. Paige speaking to her like this…low, sounding infatuated with her, and with her hands on her lower body had heat pulling to the base of her core. If she didn’t get off Paige soon, she’d start to understand how she felt as she sat atop her thigh.

“Yeah?” Azzi wanted to sound confident, but her voice came out slightly croaky. She hated the overly smug smile she caught spreading across Paige’s face.

Wordlessly, Paige pushed Azzi’s hips harder onto her thigh. “You want me to show you what I think about?” she asked huskily, dragging her hips forward and backward. Azzi gasped, feeling her throat and cheeks start to grow red at the friction.

They locked eyes, Azzi nodding with fervor. Paige shook her head, dragging Azzi’s hips once more. “Words,” she told her, commanding.

Azzi swallowed, praying for moisture to enter back in her mouth. “Yes.”

Paige dragged Azzi’s hips once more, this time tortuously slow. “Yes, what?”

Azzi rolled her eyes in a mix of annoyance and pleasure but let out an involuntary soft moan regardless. “Yes, please show me.”

Paige hummed. “Good.”

Azzi shivered at the praise.

Paige’s had one hand slip under the back of Azzi’s shorts, fully cupping her right ass cheek. The other slide lazily under her t-shirt, gliding over her abs, thumb dragging over her belly ring, and landing on her sternum. She splayed her fingers, delicately ghosting over Azzi’s bare chest as she had gone braless before bed. Azzi released a quivering breath she didn’t realize she was holding as the pad of Paige’s thumb brushed over her nipple.

“Oh.”

Paige kissed her then, dragging her lower body up and down her thigh. Their tongues met quickly, but their pace was slow as Azzi grinded her hips down. She felt the wetness pooling in between her thighs, a gasp escaping her as Paige took her bottom lip in her mouth.

Paige was hiking up the bottom of Azzi’s shirt now, lifting it over her head in a swift motion. With no warning, she cupped both of her breasts, taking one in her mouth and taking in a nipple slowly as Azzi’s grinding continued.

“Oh, wow,” Azzi whispered, staring at the blonde in awe as she devoured her chest like she was her last supper. She felt Paige’s pleasured hum around her breast, and the combination with the friction in between her legs had her throwing her head back in a sigh. She leaned her hands back, watching as Paige moved onto the other breast and her hips quickened their pace. Her shorts had completely ridden up around her waist, but she didn’t have an ounce within her to care.

She noticed the growing wet spot on Paige’s sweatpants-covered thigh, and blanched. “Oh, god,” she muttered, feeling embarrassed. She stopped moving, and Paige looked up at her from her chest with swollen lips.

Slightly dazed, she asked, “What?”

Azzi grimaced, nodding at the fact that Paige’s right thigh was more or less a completely different color than her left. Paige looked down before catching her eyes again, seemingly unphased. She dragged Azzi across her thigh again by a palm to her ass (which she was unaware Paige could cover with her entire hand until this very experience), and elicited a soft, high-pitched groan from Azzi. The pulsing in her lower half returned with a force.

Paige kissed her way up Azzi’s throat, guiding her hips again. “You don’t even know what you do to me,” she breathed. Then, she paused.

Nose to nose and breathing heavily, Paige grabbed Azzi’s hand that was resting at her chest. She dragged it down slowly, giving Azzi enough time to pull it away if she wanted to. She turned Azzi’s hand, sliding it under her sweatpants until she felt the pool of wetness from her boxers. Azzi’s mouth fell open.

Paige watched her, looking half-dazed and half in pain. Wordlessly, Azzi slid her hand on her own accord under Paige’s boxers, coming into contact with her slick heat. Paige’s mouth was hanging open now, and they stared at one another like it would be detrimental to look away. Azzi’s center throbbed with the speed of her heartbeat.

Azzi slid two fingers down her center, letting them get fully immersed in her wetness. Paige widened her legs apart, breathing like she just played a forty-minute game with no breaks. When Azzi delicately rubbed her thumb over her clit, Paige nearly choked. It had Azzi smiling like she won the lottery.

“Fuck,” Paige grunted into her mouth, kissing her harshly. She palmed Azzi’s ass again, dragging her roughly against her thigh once more and cupping the back of her head as Azzi continued circling her fingers against her center.

“Fuck,” She repeated, deeper this time. “Right there, baby. So fucking good.”

Azzi’s eyes were damn near rolling into the back of her head at the feeling, the praise, all of it. She slipped a finger into Paige then, as she sped up her grinding, watching with a lazy smile as Paige threw her head back against the headboard. She was palming her ass like she was melding their skin together, and it made Azzi’s breath hitch.

Azzi was close. So close, her vision was going in and out. She gasped as her sensitive nipples brushed against Paige’s shirt, her mouth remaining open as Paige’s fingers brushed the underside of her ass to feel her wetness on her own fingers. She was rubbing at Paige’s clit haphazardly now, mildly aware of Paige bucking her hips to meet her hand and it adding to the friction her thigh was giving her.

“Mine,” Paige mumbled roughly against her ear, “If I could, I would get on my knees for you and fuck you with my mouth. All. Night. Long.”

Azzi threw her head back with a silent cry, Paige’s words and her last thrust sending her over the edge. “I’m –” she croaked. Paige kissed her then, swallowing the moan that would inevitably leave her lips.

Paige continued gripping her, dragging her on her thigh to ride out her orgasm. Azzi felt the white heat take over her entire body, her fingers trying their best to continue rubbing Paige’s clit as she saw stars. “Paige,” she whispered, over and over.

She felt Paige twitch under her, and then she was gasping in her mouth. Had she –

“Oh my god,” Paige’s head fell back against the headboard once more, only the whites of her eyes showing as she twitched her Azzi’s hand. Paige was gripping her hard enough to bruise, and all she could think was good.

Slipping her hand out from Paige’s boxers, she rested her forehead against her shoulder, slumping her body forward. They both breathed heavily, Paige giving a tender kiss to the side of Azzi’s head.

Sitting up Azzi let her hands drag up and down Paige’s chest as she took in a breath. “I think you might actually be stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

Paige’s grin could probably be seen from space. “That’s fine with me.”

[milfjuulpod]

Accidentally on Purpose

After accidentally getting you worked up in the break room, Melissa spends a lot of time thinking about that moment, and how badly she wants to see it happen again.

warnings: poorly written smut, smut with no plot, ooc melissa (sorry), this was a request, pov switching, mentions of "good girl" and "my girl", 5k words (sorry again)

A/N: yeah i don't have much to say i'm just gonna put this here and run away i think. thank you @schemmentisimpasours for convincing me to share this. good luck yall!

Melissa Schemmenti was a lot of things. Driven, stubborn, passionate—all things that drew you to her. She was like a fire that never went out, one that kept you very warm.

Luckily, Melissa had also taken a liking to you. It was rare that the redhead wanted anything to do with newer teachers, but something about the way your eyes sparkled when she spoke to you made her want to stick around, especially after a year of you staying at Abbott.

It didn't take long for a friendship to bloom between the two of you, despite the questionable looks from others early on. After a while of you trailing Melissa around like a puppy and her guarding you like something fragile, your mutual friends stopped questioning it.

Before long, your natural flirty nature came to the surface, as did Melissa’s.

“Good morning, beautiful,” You smiled at the redhead who was already sitting on the couch in the break room.

“Hi hon, coffee is on the table,” Her eyes trailed to the mug sitting at her usual table, steam rising from it like she made a fresh pot just for you.

You suppressed the blush and butterflies, noticing that Melissa made your coffee in her mug today. Muttering a quiet “thank you,” you grabbed the coffee and moved to sit with the woman who always knew just how you liked your morning drink.

As soon as you relaxed on the couch next to Melissa, she not-so-subtly leaned in closer to you. This became normal for the two of you, always around each other, always using little pet names. Neither of you had to think about it, it just happened.

Most of the time, you were able to keep up the charade that this was casual, pretend like it didn't make your heart flutter every time Melissa called you honey and looked at you with adoration in her eyes.

Most of the time.

It was one thing when the redhead made little comments or used pet names, it was another when she started being affectionate. A lingering touch, a squeeze of your thigh under the table. It was always small, barely noticeable to others, but every time it made your skin heat up a bit. Once Melissa crossed that boundary with you, she didn't seem to want to stop. Almost as if she liked pushing these little buttons of yours.

“I can't figure out the new reading program,” You sighed out, frustrated, as you sat down at Melissa and Barbara’s table. It was still early, just a bit before the lunch break, so it was just you and the redhead in the staff room. For now.

“Yeah? That hard for you?” Melissa teased from behind you with a chuckle. It wasn't clear what she was doing, but you could hear movement.

Melissa’s hands rested on the table from behind you, her arms on either side of you practically trapping you in your seat. Her hair brushed against your shoulder and her perfume surrounded you, which was enough to momentarily fluster you. But she kept going.

Her lips were so close to your ear you could feel her breath warming up the skin. “I can teach you, but you'll have to be good and listen.”

Melissa pulled back just enough to turn her head slightly and look at you, waiting for a reaction. When she was met with your frozen and slightly shocked state, she kept talking.

“Can you do that, sweetheart?”

Your eyes shifted to meet hers, your wide-eye expression a stark contrast from her knowing one. The heat in your face was noticeable, if your inability to form a sentence wasn't enough.

“Yeah…Yes,” You tried to keep your composure, but Melissa could hear the whine and plea coming out in your cracked voice.

“Good…” She said lowly, pulling herself out of your space just in time before the door to the break room swung open.

Barbara was quick to join the table, conversing with Melissa effortlessly—who acted like she didn't just ignite something in you and walk away.

Like her words weren't echoing in your head.

Like you couldn't still smell her perfume.

Or feel her hot breath on your skin.

“Hey, you with us?” Melissa’s voice cut through your repetitive thoughts. She smirked at you just after snapping her fingers in your face, while Barbara looked more concerned.

“Hm? Yeah,” You nodded, mentally rejoining the group.

“Barb brought up a movie night, you in?” She repeated the question you didn't hear the first time.

Nodding slowly, you agreed to plans with the two of them this weekend, “Yeah, I'm down.”

The rest of your conversations were just as automatic and robotic as your response, your mind all too consumed by the woman who sat barely a foot away. Wrapped up in your own mind, you failed to notice the redhead keeping her eyes on you, her own mind running a thousand miles an hour.

Melissa didn't mean to get you so riled up, if she was being honest with herself, she didn't even think about it. She's gotten so used to the constant back and forth, the teasing seemed like nothing.

Until she saw how it caught your breath, how your eyes fluttered for a second and you looked at her so…submissively. It was then she realized the severity of her relentless pushing and pulling, and just how much she liked seeing you like that.

All day, the two of you thought of each other. It took all of your energy to focus on the tasks at hand while teaching, constantly fighting your foggy mind.

Every second Melissa wasn't speaking, her mind wandered back to that pitiful, needy look on your face. She wouldn't stop until she saw it again.

And again.

And again.

At home, it was even harder for Melissa to stop thinking about you, having nothing to distract herself with. Before the sun could set, she was laying in her bed with wandering hands while replaying that moment over and over.

The redhead surprised herself with how wet she grew thinking about that interaction, and the many other things it could lead to. She barely touched herself and it was a mess.

Melissa wasted no time in pleasuring herself, thinking only of your doe eyes and shaky voice. That raw, needy reaction—because of her.

A low, stuttered moan escaped her soft lips the moment she pushed her fingers into herself. The sensation from her slow pumps were making her face heat up. It wasn't long until her free hand was underneath her shirt, frantically teasing and pulling at her hard nipple.

All Melissa could think about was you, how badly she wanted—no, needed, to hear and see you falter like that. She wanted to tease you and push you until you couldn't take it anymore, begging her for something, anything.

Loud grunts and moans of your name filled her bedroom, her breath getting faster and faster just like the movement of her fingers. She was struggling to keep her eyes open, her mascara covered lashes fluttering inconsistently.

A familiar warmth grew within Melissa, so she kept pushing and pushing and thinking of your sweet voice calling her names and-

Her warm body tensed and twitched with a sudden release, a near silent moan escaping her. She was nearly shaking at this point. Out of breath, exhausted, and with a slight smile on her face, Melissa laid there. Thinking only of you.

Unbeknownst to her, you had a very similar night.

All night you were thinking about how close she was to you earlier, the smell of her perfume engulfing you, the heat of her breath on your ear. You spent what felt like hours wondering what other things she would say to you like that, how else she would love to tease and taunt you.

It wasn't until after you had finished pleasuring yourself to the idea of Melissa that you realized you had to look her in the face tomorrow.

The next morning at work, you avoided the break room before class started. Although, you didn't necessarily need to, because Melissa was doing the same.

Of course the rest of the staff noticed both of your absences, and while Barbara went to Melissa just before the bell, Janine came to you.

“Hey! Missed you this morning, everything okay?” Janine announced her presence in your room, cheerful as always. Your head popped up at the sound of her voice and returned her bright smile.

“Yeah, I'm okay. Just trying to get some extra work done. I'll see you at lunch?” You offered. It was easy to act like everything was normal, because it was. As long as Melissa wasn't there.

Happy with your answer, Janine nodded and bid a quick goodbye just before the students started arriving. Per usual, you opened the classroom door and stood outside to greet each and every one of your students.

Feeling eyes on you from across the hall, you looked up to see Melissa watching you. As soon as your eyes met, she smirked, before returning her attention to her own students entering.

You just blinked a few times in response, before eventually coming back down to earth and engaging with the kids. Today was going to be rough.

The morning was…weird. You knew you were going to see Melissa at lunch, and the knowledge made you nervous. Anxious, almost. The time somehow went by too quickly and too slow for your liking, but eventually, it was break time.

With a deep breath, you confidently walked into the break room and beelined to the fridge to grab your lunch. Most days, you'd sit with Melissa and Barbara at their shared table, but with how nervous you were already feeling, it didn't seem like the best idea.

Walking towards the other table in the room, the redhead’s voice stopped you. “What are you doing?”

Back stiffening, you turn and finally face Melissa. Heat immediately pools in your stomach upon making eye contact, your not-so-friendly thoughts from last night coming back again. You forgot she asked you a question, until she raised her eyebrows at you and you stuttered through some sort of excuse as to why you weren't sitting with her like usual.

Before you could finish your (pathetic) sentence, she pointed to the seat next to her and commanded, “Sit.”

It was like your body made the decision on its own, ignoring the alarms in your head as you walked over to her, taking a seat where she asked.

“Good girl,” She mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear.

You crossed your legs.

Lunch was a blur, you missed every single conversation around you, too focused on Melissa besides you. Every once in a while her eyes flickered over to you, checking on you. Watching, more like. Whenever she laughed her hand would fall to your arm or thigh, lingering just a second longer than needed.

What sick game is she playing?

Hearing your name caught your attention, and Barbara gently reminded you of your plans later tonight for the movies.

“Oh! Right, I can host, do we wanna do, like, seven?” You asked her and Melissa. They agreed, but the two of them had very different expressions. Melissa was…well you weren't entirely sure. She was looking at you with such intensity and the slightest smirk on her face. While Barbara looked almost excited? Like she was excited about something else you didn't know about.

Nonetheless, you all confirmed plans just before the bell, and went to your respective rooms to finish out the work day.

As soon as your last student went home from the day, you rushed home to get the place ready for your friends. Yes, there was still some work to be done, but making sure everything would be perfect for Barbara and Melissa was more important at the moment.

Luckily your apartment was already pretty clean, it just needed some small adjustments and extra blankets and pillows. In the middle of setting things up, you heard your phone buzz.

Barbara Howard

I don't think I can make it to our movie night. Started not feeling well and need some rest. Sorry, dear.

You stared at the screen for a moment before responding with care, feeling momentarily worried for her and her sudden illness.

Until you remembered who else was supposed to come tonight. It was now just going to be you and Melissa, alone in your apartment on a Friday night with a bottle of wine.

You debated on whether or not to text Melissa and let her know, but decided against it. Assuming Barbara has already let her friend know, you continued making sure everything was ready before settling on the couch for a little bit of alone time.

Just a couple minutes past seven o’clock, there was a knock at your door. The sound immediately made you nervous, this was it. You gave yourself an internal pep talk the entire way to the door, before opening it to greet Melissa.

“Hi,” You said quietly, looking at her up and down briefly before smiling shyly.

“Hey you,” Melissa replied affectionately and walked past you to get inside. “Barb’s not here yet?” She asked a bit surprised, turning to face you.

“She didn't tell you? She had to cancel tonight, said she's not feeling good,” You answered, making your way to the couch. Sitting on the smaller loveseat, you expected Melissa to take the actual couch, but instead, she joined you.

“No, she didn't,” Melissa scoffed. She leaned back in her spot, pushing her thigh against your exposed one. “Guess it's just you and me tonight, baby,” She teased, looking at you with that same smirk that made you so frustrated.

You huffed playfully in response, unable to think of anything to say. You avoided her gaze like you have been the past couple of days, trying (and failing) to hide the pink hue on your face and the warmth in your chest.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Melissa asked curiously.

“Doing what?” Answering her question with your own, eyes flashing to hers for just a second before returning to the tv that has yet to be turned on.

“Look at me when I'm speaking to you,” She told you, voice lower than it was before. Her thigh pushed against yours, trying to get your attention.

As soon as you faced her, she spoke again. “That's my girl. Don't shy away from me.”

Your cheeks were undeniably red at this point, and you couldn't help but blink at her repeatedly as you tried to say something, anything.

“You think I don't wanna see you? See how cute it is when I make you all nervous?” She continued to tease since you weren't speaking.

“You don't make me nervous,” You lied.

Melissa either didn't like what you said, or really liked what you said. It was hard to tell at first, the way her eyebrow cocked and her expression hardened.

“Really? Not at all?” She asked flatly, leaning in closer to you.

“Not even the other day?” Melissa brought up what started this whole thing. Mimicking her position in the past and locking you in place, she firmly placed her hand on the arm rest behind you, leaving no room for movement.

“I-I don't know what you’re talking about,” You tried scooting back, but there was nowhere to go. Leaving you squirming in place practically underneath Melissa.

“You're a bad liar, hon.” She replied with a wicked smile on her face. Leaning in even closer, chests almost touching, she asked again. “Do I make you nervous?”

“Melissa-” You sighed out before you could stop yourself, face heating up even more. Green eyes fell down to your chest, watching the quick rise and fall for a moment before making eye contact again.

“God, you sound pretty saying my name like that,” Melissa praised. She noticed your eyes fall to her very close lips as she spoke, and it was all the push she needed to close the distance.

A surprised whine got caught in your throat as soon as you felt her lips against your own, melting into her touch. Melissa was about to pull back, unsure if you wanted this to keep going, but your hand on the back of her neck stopped her quickly.

You could feel her start to smile before she focused more on making you feel good. She kissed you like it was what she was meant to do, her tongue licking and her lips sucking exactly how you needed her to.

Her hands wasted no time finding places to touch, finding out where you liked her fingers the most. When her fingernails dug into your hip possessively you moaned into her mouth. Melissa groaned in response and it was then that she decided that was her favorite sound to hear.

She quickly kissed your lips a few times before making her way down the side of your jaw and eventually to your neck. You felt her hand push on your stomach slightly, urging you to lean back. Of course, you obeyed.

“Are you always such a good girl, or just for me? Hm?” Melissa asked lowly, her breath hot on your ear once again before she nipped your earlobe. You whimpered slightly, hips jolting against her.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart,” She reminded you, but there was a warning in her tone.

“I…Only for you,” You admitted, and there was a weight to your words that both of you understood. Melissa smiled, genuinely smiled, at your answer. Only for a second though, and then her lips and tongue were back to your neck.

The sensation surprised you, earning Melissa a quiet moan from you. She wanted to hear more, she wanted to hear absolutely filthy things fall from your mouth. And she wanted it now.

“Where's your bedroom?” She asked, pulling up from you slightly. Your eyes widened slightly at her sudden question, but eagerly you started to get up to lead her where she wanted.

Melissa stayed close behind, one hand holding onto yours and the other trailing her nails up and down your spine. As soon as you were inside your room, her hand on your back gently pushed you towards the bed, leaving no room for hesitation.

The two of you fell into bed, immediately kissing each other again. Melissa laid you down as she distracted you with her tongue, her hand resting on your hip while yours were dragging and pulling all over her.

“Easy, baby. I'm not going anywhere,” She chuckled at your eagerness. “And I wanna hear you beg for me.”

You couldn't respond before she was kissing and biting your neck again, leaving marks that would certainly still be there on Monday. Every time she bit a little harder you were gasping underneath her, getting more and more flustered by the second. Her hands made their way under your shirt, gently scratching at your stomach.

“Mel, please,” Your voice was quiet and breathless. Close to what Melissa wanted, but not quite.

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want,” She coaxed. Lifting her head up slightly to meet your gaze, her eyes were dark and hungry. Your stomach dropped when you locked eyes, and in that moment you realized how badly Melissa wanted this. Wanted you.

Before you could answer, the redhead snuck her thigh in between yours and gave it a gentle push. A surprised gasp left your lips and Melissa was obsessed with the feeling of your thighs squeezing around her.

As quickly as Melissa made you feel good, she took it away, pulling her thigh away from you and making you chase her.

“You know I don't like asking questions twice,” She said, her voice sharper than before. Her grip on your waist was so tight, part of you worried she might draw blood if she doesn't ease up. But you didn't care, you'd let her if she wanted.

Your hands made their way into her hair, tugging softly as you pulled her closer and more flush against your own body. “I want you, I want to feel you, make me feel good, please,” You begged between kisses.

She smirked upon hearing your words, happy to hear what she had been waiting for, waiting for a lot longer than she’d like to admit. Melissa leans in close, giving you a gentle, almost loving kiss before pulling back barely an inch.

“I got you, baby,” She mutters, her breath hot against your own lips. The warmth of her body makes you feel hot, the feeling only increasing as she continues her work kissing down your jaw and throat.

Melissa uses the position she’s in to her advantage. Her thigh that was previously between yours resumes its position, although this time she gently pushes your legs apart. You felt so vulnerable, but there’s nobody else you trusted more.

While one hand kept her propped up on top of you, her other started drawing circles on your inner exposed thigh painfully slow. You could feel her kisses start to get messier, she was just as ready as you were for this. The little whimpers and squirms you were making were out of your control at this point, but neither of you minded.

“God, you sound so pretty,” Melissa praised lowly. “All worked up just for me? Huh, baby?”

You bit your lip, subconsciously arching up to be closer to the woman. Not wanting to keep her waiting, you stuttered through a response. “Y-yes, yes its all for you,” You answer.

Melissa was happy with the responses she was getting. From your whiny voice and ragged breaths, she was more than pleased with how you were reacting to her touch. She also didn’t want to keep you waiting, so she finally moved her thumb from your thigh to where you needed her most.

A pitiful whine left your lips as soon as she circled softly over your clothed center, and her own face started heating up at what she was pulling out of you. As she continued her gentle touches, she moved closer to give you another kiss, even if you couldn’t match her intensity right now.

“This is exactly how I wanted you,” She muttered, so quiet it took you a second to register what she had just said.

”W-what?” you asked, just before another quiet moan escaped. It was hard to focus on what she was saying while she was touching you so…affectionately.

She kissed you again, hungrier this time. “You…You’re so cute like this…so needy and…desperate for me…” She breathed out between kisses, her words falling on your lips. “I've thought about something like this so many times…”

She increased the pressure with her thumb just enough to have you whining again, especially after admitting what she just did. You felt on top of the world and out of body all at the same time. Because of Melissa. For Melissa.

“Fuck…Mel please, I need you I need you so bad, please,” You begged, the words rambling out as you desperately ached for more of her touch. It was pathetic, but you didn’t care.

“Okay sweet girl, since you asked so nicely,” She replied, voice dripping with a dangerous sweetness. She sat up just a bit, enough to look at you. She took in the beautiful sight of you panting and begging underneath her, a moment she would never forget. A smirk danced across her face as she moved to take your shorts off, tossing them to the side absentmindedly before pulling your underwear off painfully slow. Those, she knew exactly where to put—in the pocket of her sweatpants, just a reminder of tonight.

“So pretty,” she murmured, and dragged a finger slowly between your folds. Both of you moaned at the contact. She felt so good, and so did you.

“Fuck…Melissa,” You whined again at the contact, hips pushing up towards her. She drew figure eights around your entrance, gathering as much of your wetness as she possibly could. It felt insane, she was going to be the death of you. Maybe nobody you have been with was that skilled, or maybe its because it was Melissa, but nobody had ever made you feel this good from almost nothing.

“You’re being so good baby, so good for me,” She cooed before taking her finger away and sliding it into her mouth. You watched as she meticulously cleaned herself, a moment of pleasure flashing across her face as she tasted you.

“You taste even better,” Melissa continued her compliments, voice low and possessive. She gave you one more kiss before moving down your body, leaving a trail of hot kisses and nips as she went. She took her thighs in your hands, wrapping her arms around them to put them over her shoulders and keep you in place and open for her. She placed a gentle kiss on your clit, earning her another high pitched whine from you.

“Baby…” You moaned, hands falling to the sheets to keep you grounded.

“I know, I know,” She cooed, and dragged her tongue from your entrance up to your clit. She moaned against you, into you, the vibrations sending chills down your spine. She resumed her figure eight motions from earlier, the sensation much more intense coming from her warm tongue. Every time you moaned, you could feel her doing the same right after, both of you so lost in each other.

You watched as her red hair fell down her face as she started working faster, her tongue and lips attaching themselves to your clit once more. One of your hands left the sheets, instead finding a place in Melissa’s hair, keeping it out of her way and tugging on it gently.

“Oh my god…Fuck, Melissa,” You whined and moaned out to her as she continued pushing you closer to the edge. You felt her sneak a finger inside of you as well, and a much higher, almost squeal left your body at the feeling.

“So good baby,” She said before bringing her lips to you again, her finger slowly pushing in and out as she worked you up. It wasn’t long until she added another, curling them to hit that perfect spot that made you try to squeeze your legs around her head.

You could feel a hot pressure building up in your lower abdomen the more she touched and kissed, it was almost too much—almost.

“Mel- Baby, I-I’m…” You tried to get the words out through stuttering breaths, but you didn’t need to tell her. She could feel you clenching around her fingers, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love it. If her mouth wasn’t busy giving you affection, she’d be talking you through it. The look in her eyes told you that much. She groaned against you once more, holding eye contact as your jaw fell open.

The pressure burst in an instance as you came undone for Melissa, legs shaking around her as she pushed you through your orgasm. A string of moans and curses fell from your lips, your hand in her hair pulling tightly as you fell over the edge.

Once she felt your body finish and start trying to relax, Melissa slowly pulled her fingers from you, gently cleaning you up with her tongue. It was so soft you almost didn’t feel it. Might not have if you weren’t so sensitive from just a second ago.

“That’s my girl,” She said softly as she made her way back up to you. You laid back, eyes shut as you tried to catch your breath. Her words made your cheeks heat up though, despite barely hearing them. You felt her lips on yours again, but she was much slower and more gentle this time. It was a kiss of affection, not hunger.

“You did so good for me sweetheart,” She mumbled praises as she continued giving you sweet kisses. Your arms wrapped around her and she pulled you against her, letting you roll onto your side and lean against her. Burying your head in her neck, she matched the gesture with a couple kisses to your head, holding you close against her. You hummed in satisfaction, exhaustion taking over.

“Mm, so did you,” You told her sleepily. She could tell she wore you out and she couldn’t blame you after all the relentless teasing she’s been putting you through. With another kiss to the crown of your head, she laid you down before getting up out of the bed.

You shot up instantly, worried she was about to leave you after all this. Melissa could see the concerned expression on your face and eased your ideas. “I’ll be right back honey, I’m just going to get you water,” She said, and left the room with a soft smile. Sighing peacefully, you laid back down and waited for her.

You must’ve started falling asleep despite it being so early, because suddenly you felt Melissa back in bed, pulling your small shirt off your frame to replace it with a more comfortable pajama shirt, the water forgotten about on the nightstand. She pulled you back into her arms, letting you lay against her warm body. You relaxed almost instantly and so did she, the two of you wrapped around each other perfectly. It didn’t take long for sleep to take over, Melissa’s soft voice giving you praises like a lullaby as you drifted off in her arms.

So much for watching the movie.

[ysabelmystic]

Due to popular demand, I will now share my personal worst “how are you allowed to go outside” patient story.

Pt limped into the ER with a complaint of a sprained ankle. I went out to the waiting room with my wheelchair and found two women in their early-mid 40s dressed in business clothes. Not to go by appearance, but usually a minor complaint made by a very well-dressed adult is a harbinger of a relatively easy, no-nonsense visit.

What I told myself was a lie

I helped her into the wheelchair and took her to my triage room.

“So, you sprained your ankle, huh?”

“I think so,” she said.

I asked her what she did to it. She said she wasn’t sure. I asked her what her pain level was out of ten, ten being the worst pain ever and zero being none. She thought about it and said, “I don’t know. Maybe… a two?”

I rephrased my question. “What about when you put weight on it?”

She thought about it and said, “I don’t know. Maybe… a three?”

I asked her how long ago she’d sprained her ankle. She said she’d “just noticed” that she’d sprained it today. I asked her if I could look at her ankle. She rolled up her slacks and revealed a very normally-colored, normally-textured, unswollen, and thoroughly unremarkable ankle. I asked her to show me where the swelling was. She crossed her leg over her lap and pointed at a tiny bump with a tinier pinprick of a dot in the center.

I mm hmmd and asked her if this was where her ankle hurt most. She confirmed that this dot was indeed the epicenter of her pain. She informed me that she believed it was a bug bite. I asked her how this related to her sprained ankle. She said that her ankle must’ve been sprained because it was swollen, and last time her ankle had swelled up, it had been because she sprained it. I asked her if she had recently tripped on anything, maybe stepped on her foot wrong, or anything else that might commonly result in a sprained ankle. She confirmed that she had not. I asked if her main evidence for the assumption of a sprained ankle was indeed just the bug bite. She confirmed that it was. I asked her if she was able to bear weight on the alleged sprained ankle. She said that she could.“Without an increase in pain?” “Without an increase in pain”. I asked her why she had limped into the waiting room and required a wheelchair. She said that it was because last time she had sprained her ankle, she’d been told not to put weight on it, as it could damage the joint, and she did not want to damage her joint. Incredulous but armed with my mask and poker face, I summarized her complaint -which I was sorry to ask her to repeat herself, but my triage sheet only allows me a small number of letters and I needed to be as concise as possible, which I hoped she’d understand-: she was concerned her ankle was sprained because of swelling surrounding a bug bite. She confirmed, that yes, that was precisely why she’d came in.

I smiled and nodded, and wrote down exactly that.

I wheeled her into one of my low-acuity rooms and told her the doctor would see her in a moment, that we would likely take some x-rays, and we would go from there, and if she needed me, I’d be right across the hall. She and her friend were agreeable enough. I brought her a blanket, and then went back to my room to stare at my computer in silence before triaging my next patient.

It was a busy night, shenanigans abound and a lobby full, so I couldn’t sit at my desk for long. Mostly, I was running circles around the ER. My desk is directly next to the waiting room doors, which can only be opened by an employee with a badge. If the door is opened without a badge, an alarm goes off. To prevent such incidences, we have several big, yellow signs on the door that say “🛑✋🏻 DO NOT PUSH DOOR”.

Unfortunately, people are stupidly, and they do it anyways.

I was making another loop doing ER nurse things when I heard the door alarm. I went to the hall to see who it was, and perhaps, let them out. To my surprise, the culprits were my patient and her friend. My patient was standing on one foot.

I asked her why she was leaving. After all, we hadn’t discharged her yet. Her x-ray results hadn’t even popped up yet. She said she thought she was good to leave after the x-ray. I informed her that the doctor needed to look at the x-ray and treat any injury she might have. She said, “oh. I thought you guys would email it to me”. I said no we would not, and how would we get her a brace or medication if she had indeed sprained her ankle. She said she assumed we would email that as well. I said we couldn’t email an ankle brace. She asked if we’d mail it to her. I said not on the same day, and asked if she needed a wheelchair to return to her room. She said she did not, and hopped on one foot back to her room.

The x-ray revealed no evidence of a sprained ankle. I don’t know what she said to the doctor upon receiving that information, but the doctor was in there much longer than I expected, and the conversation was vexing enough that the doctor put in a prescription for antibiotics because apparently it was easier to say, “we diagnose you with swollen ankle and you should take an antibiotic for it” than it was to explain to this woman that there was nothing wrong with her ankle except for a small bug bite which is surely something you’ve dealt with before since you are a 40yo who lives in the southern region of the United States of America. At this time, most pharmacies in town were closed, so I was to administer the first dose, and she would get the remainder of the course from the pharmacy in the morning.

I entered the room and asked if she was ready to go home. She said that she was. I explained that I had an antibiotic for her, which she would take now, and that she could get the rest from her pharmacy in the morning. She seemed to understand this well enough. I scanned her wristband, scanned the pill, put the pill in a medicine cup, and handed her the cup. She looked at the pill and then back at me, and asked what time it was. I gave her the time (which was sometime close to midnight). She hmmmd to herself, looked at the pill, and remarked that it was a very good thing we were giving her this pill. Now she wouldn’t have to take her other pills tonight! I asked her why she thought that. She said that if she got a pill at the doctor’s office, it meant she didn’t have to take her regular pills because if it came from the doctor’s office it would cover everything else. I asked her what meds she took. She said she didn’t know (which I should’ve expected). I asked if she took a blood pressure pill. She said yes. I asked if she took a “water pill”. She said yes. And I asked if she took anything for her heart. And she said yes.

I informed the patient that antibiotics would not help her heart or her blood pressure. She seemed confused. She said that whenever a doctor gave her a new pill, she stopped all her other pills until the new pill was finished. I told her that she should take her medications as recommended unless her doctor or pharmacist specifically said not to take them. She said, “Really?” And I said yes, and recommended that she go home and take her other pills. She asked me if that’s why she got headaches whenever doctors gave her new pills. I told her probably so. She took her antibiotic and signed her discharge papers. I asked if she wanted a wheelchair, and she said no.

I went back to my desk.

The door alarm went off.

I looked out to see my former patient and her friend had once again pushed the door. This time, they stopped themselves. I got up from my seat and told them I’d buzz them out, and to get home safe. I scanned my badge, and the doors opened.

But my patient and her friend did not move.

I watched them stand at the threshold, my patient standing on one foot.

The doors hung open. About twenty seconds passed, and then they slowly, slowly closed.

The lock reactivated.

My patient pushed on the door, set off the alarm, and hopped out into the great expanse of the hospital parking lot at night.

…

Third place goes to the woman who checked in because three days ago she’d drank a soda at a sketchy wings place that turned out to have a roach in it. She’d called the restaurant and asked if there could’ve possibly been any more roaches in that soda, and if their roaches had diseases. The lady on the other end had told her no and no (I would’ve paid money to hear this conversation), but my patient wasn’t so sure, because every time she thought about drinking the roach-soda, or was drinking the flavor of soda that had contained the roach, she felt nauseous. After a visit with Dr Google, she’d come to conclusion that she had salmonella. The roach had given her salmonella. I asked her if the nausea went away when she was drinking a different kind of soda or wasn’t thinking about the roach, and she said yes.

It was a very short ER visit.

You’re all very welcome.

I met new contenders for “dumbest patients I’ve ever met” and it ruined my whole damn night

[cainnleacgh]

Joe Burrow - Did someone say fraternising?

The star QB whose star is a girl who wears them on her shorts but what happens when their relationship is one that technically, breaks the rules.

Gormley doesn’t get nervous. Not in her rookie year where her red costume, with beading and gems so beautiful it was almost unreal, on a girl even more unreal stepped in front of the judges and hooked them from that moment. She doesn’t get nervous in interviews, in front of crows. She doesn’t get nervous.

But this?

This was new.

She sat stiff in the DCC director’s office, spine poker-straight, hair suddenly sticking to her back, she suddenly became aware of every follicle in her scalp, her palms flat on the hem of her sports bra, the criss-cross back digging uncomfortably into her already tense, tight shoulders. Kelli sat behind an open laptop, calm but unreadable, while Judy—arms folded, lips pursed—leaned against the wall. That was never a good sign, Judy doesn’t stand. Ever.

For all the fire and flash of pre-game day, the office felt cold. Clinical. Like a courtroom. Or worse—like a stage where the next move could determine her fate, was she to be alike King Lear, whose foolish pride when questioned caused such destruction, or was she to be alike Alexander Hamilton, who built empires under such scrutiny. Wait, both died.

Gormley knew the rules. She had them memorised long before she ever slipped on the iconic white boots. No gum, no being late, no red nails. She was somewhat of a rule follower, she doesn’t jaywalk, she always parks between the white lines, she knew rules were good, but she also knew what was coming.

“Gormley,” Kelli began, her voice soft but laced with a firmness that years of authority gave her. “You know I wouldn’t be calling you in unless it was serious.” Kelli had grown found of Gormley, she was what, in her head, a DCC should be. Hair so blonde it was white, but it was also impossibly healthy for someone who took a bottle of bleach to it more often than she’d like to admit. Blue eyes reflecting the very logo of the Cowboys, as if she were destined, pre-mapped, wired to dance for DCC. She was everything DCC was, body and soul, so why did Kelli look so mad.

“Yes, ma’am,” she replied, meeting her eyes directly. “Always refer to questions as ma’am,” she was a rule follower.

“You’ve been in the organization two years. Veteran status. An elite performer. You know how much we value your presence on this team. You set a standard—on the field and off. But the eyes on us? They never stop watching, and unfortunately, the eyes do not like what they have seen.” My eyes don’t like the off white background behind you, but I’m not causing a fuss, God, off-white is so ugly she thought.

The way she said it wasn’t cruel. In fact, there was something almost maternal in Kelli’s tone. But that didn’t make the words any less of a warning, it almost worried Gormley, who had now forgotten the off-white wall, and now felt her breathing rise, getting hotter as Judy still stood, she doesn’t stand. The sports bra was all she could focus on, the sparkles pressing into her skin like some sort of unrelenting force, ironic, she thought, sparkles are supposed to be pretty, not painful.

“We’ve received… feedback,” Kelli continued, her voice distracting Gormley momentarily from the sparkles currently betraying her shoulders, “about your presence at recent team events. Not our team—his. Public appearances. Social media stories. A birthday party that… I’ll not dignify with words.”

Him?

And who is him?

Joe.

He wasn’t just her boyfriend. He was the Joe Burrow. Bengals star quarterback. NFL golden boy., with his blonde curls and icy blue eyes that quickly became somewhat of a home for Gormley. The birthday party? If the situation wasn’t as serious, Gormley would’ve thanked Kelli for bringing up the birthday party, it was an excuse to think about it, yet again, for the about, 100th time.

It was Friday night. The Bengals just pulled off a huge win. The energy was electric, thunder almost, though, they had all grown sick of Gormley and her thunder jokes. She showed up to the post-game party in a black silk dress that clings like it was painted on, like every stitch in the fabric was a meticulous brushstroke carved with the intention of being timelessly admired, timelessly beautiful. Her hair, a false sense of innocence as the white gleamed excellently against the unmerciful black, there was something angelic about Gormley tonight.

Joe hadn’t taken his eyes — or hands — off her all night.

The place was packed. Neon strobes, VIP section roped off, security keeping fans at bay. Everyone’s sweating from the bass, it was so loud it rumbled, and before Gormley got the chance to make the joke, her mouth had been covered by a drunk Joe who shook his head, “No more thunder, wait actually, maybe thunder, yes! Hell yes to thunder, thunder so turns me on.” He makes an effort to tell the band to play thunderstruck, although, the band nodded, most likely to get him to shut up and juts go away.

Gormley was straddling his lap in the booth, arms wrapped around his neck, laughing into his ear, whispering things only he can hear — but everyone can see the effect. He’s gripping her waist like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded to the very earth, as fingers trailed down her spine, voice low and dangerous. The two were making out between shots, hands everywhere, completely unbothered by the crowd, by the phones, by anything. Though, Joe would come to argue that the only mistake was the tequila.

“You keep grinding on me like that and I swear to God I’ll take you right here.” Joe mumbles, clearly thinking with something that isn’t his brain. His eyes are full of sin, and he can practically see under the black silk, he’s seen it enough to know every curve, every dip, but never enough to not want to consume everything Gormley is. He’s obsessed.

At 2:43 a.m., the two stumble out of the club, hands all over each other. Flashbulbs go off like lightning, someone captures the smudged lipstick over his neck, another flash, someone’s captured her disheveled hair, the white no longer gleaming of innocence but of something begging to be ruined.

She’s giggling in her heels, and Joe’s one arm is wrapped tight around her waist, the other? But Joe has two hands, and the other? Well, the other rests firmly on her ass, not tight enough he’s gripping, but enough that definitely violated about 5 DCC rules, but Gormley was a rule follower, was she not?

No, not with Joe.

Right before he shuts the door, someone yells:

“Joe! What are you doing when you get home?!” He smirks, half-drunk, full of the same confidence he had when he felt the familiarity of the ball in his hands on the 50 yard line, looks over his shoulder, and replies with something that kept every member of the Bengals PR team employed, “Praying for strength.”

The car door slams shut.

Gormley kept her face composed. “I’m aware of what’s been said.” She was more than aware, she remembered everything that had been said and done that night, from the phone gal with her mom asking if Joe was hurt and that’s why he was praying for strength, till Jada texting you, “I wouldn’t even show up Monday.” It was probably the biggest scandal DCC had seen, and DCC didn’t like scandal. No, no, no, they liked rules.

Kelli gave a tight smile. “Then you’re also aware of the policy regarding fraternisation with NFL players.”

Judy stepped in now, arms still crossed, but her tone more matter-of-fact, not a trace of that maternal voice that plagued Kellis. “It’s in the handbook, Gorms. Page thirteen. Cheerleaders aren’t permitted to date NFL players. Period. Regardless of the team.” She was still standing, again, if the situation wasn’t her career on the line, she’d of joked, “you should’ve slammed the book open at that page for dramatic effect” but she stayed silent, she followed the rules. DCC liked rules.

There was a beat of silence. Then Gormley leaned forward, voice calm and measured. “And technically, that policy applies to relationships started during tenure with the DCC.” She had thought of an answer, and gosh, she was so excited to use that exact line. She had practiced it with Joe. Tenure, was the word she used, she liked it, it was sophisticated.

Both women looked at her. Judy sat, finally. Gormley smiled, she had the upper hand now. She had decided that Judy stands to feel more in control, by sitting down, the ball was in her half, pun intended.

She tilted her chin up slightly. “Joe and I have been together since high school. I was with him when he tore his ACL junior year and everyone said he’d never recover. I was there for every game at LSU, even when we were long-distance. I supported him before the draft, through his rookie season. Long before I put on these boots.”

Kelli blinked, and closed her laptop. Again, Gormley smiled. Kelli used the laptop as a barrier when having uncomfortable conversations, it now meant, whatever she had planned to say, to shout, to argue, was now irrelevant. Judy raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t start dating an NFL player,” Gormley said carefully. “I started dating a small-town quarterback with a limp and a dream. I just never stopped.” She looked at Kelli, and then to Judy as they looked at each other. She hadn’t broken a rule, and DCC liked people who didn’t break any rules.

The room went quiet again. There was power in the way she said it. Not defensiveness—truth. The kind that came wrapped in first love and late-night phone calls and miles logged on highways between Ohio and Louisiana. Gormley and Joe had been a unit long before NFL lights or DCC cameras. Gormley and Joe would be a unit long after the NFL lights went out and the DCC cameras stopped.

“I understand the optics,” she added. “I know what people might assume. But this isn’t a scandal. And frankly, it’s none of their business.” Kelli exhaled, a hand briefly brushing her temple. She looked at Judy, who offered only a shrug. Judy was the sort of person who liked people to know what she thought, so clearly, as of right now, she wasn’t thinking anything. Gormley smiled again.

“You’re right,” Kelli finally said. “Technically, it doesn’t violate the letter of the policy.” Gormley sat up straighter, partially because the top of the chair had worsened the attack the sparkles were currently still engaged in on her shoulder, but also because she had outmouvered an organisation so desperate to follow the rules.

“But it walks a very fine line,” Judy added, her voice low. “And you know how fine lines can look under a microscope.” Clearly, the women weren’t fully convinced, but they didn’t need to be fully.

Gormley nodded. “Then let them look.” She hoped the fake confidence was enough to convince them.

There was a moment where Kelli just stared at her. Gormley knew that look—one part admiration, one part worry. She’d seen it in her own mother’s eyes a hundred times. The look of someone realising they can’t protect you from the storm because you’ve already decided to walk into it. Good thing she hated the Texan sun.

“You’re one of our best,” Kelli said finally. “Top tier. Clean lines, explosive power, leadership among the vets. That’s why you’re not being cut.” Gormley’s posture didn’t change, but her breath quietly released.

Kelli held her gaze. Then, finally, nodded.

“Alright. Then we’ll move forward. Carefully. No interviews about your personal life. And for God’s sake Gorms, please stop straddling him in public! I know his thighs are very tempting but please, rise above!”

Gormley let herself smile. “No straddling . Got it.” Well, at least in public anyway.

As Gormley stood to leave, smoothing her hair that had been distracting her the whole meeting, Kelli’s voice stopped her again.

“Gormley?”

She turned.

“If things ever… change. If it gets messy with him… come to us. Don’t let pride cost you the dream.” Her throat tightened for a second, but she just nodded.

“I won’t.”

Because this wasn’t just a team. It was the team. And she hadn’t clawed her way through training camp hell, ankle sprains, and offhand remarks about her “football boyfriend” to let it slip through her fingers now.

Outside the office, the hallway echoed with the sounds of the squad—laughter, the rhythm of eight-counts, a bass-heavy remix of something stadium-ready. She inhaled once, deep and focused. Then walked straight back into rehearsal, back straight, boots shining, heart steady.

Let them talk. She had work to do.

The door clicks open. She drops her keys somewhere on the table by the door, which, despite being picked to be warmly welcoming, it’s essentially just clutter. She kicks her shoes off, feeling blisters from when they ran the kick line in the boots and she had totally forgot and had no socks, and her pride prevented her asking for spares. She really wished she had. Ouch.

The smell of garlic fills her nose and she hasn’t realised how hungry she was, Joe wasn’t necessarily a good cook, but his lack of talent was supplemented by effort.

And there he is.

Joe. In the kitchen. Shirtless. Grey sweatpants riding scandalously low on his hips. Barefoot. Focused. Gormley can see his reflection in the pots glistening the ceiling above him, and she silently thanks Joe’s mom of gifting them pots when they moved in together. They had joked they’d never use them, but he looked so handsome in the reflection.

He’s stirring something on the stove, back muscles shifting under golden light. His back slightly tan from their holiday to the Maldives, although, slightly is the key word here, he was mainly red.

She takes a second. Just to look. That stupid TikTok thing her brother sent her, “We’ll have a look, of course we’ll have a look” ringing through her head. She wasn’t even looking, she was staring. She had traced his back numerous times, when he drank too much and was over the toilet, when she told him that they should go as Meg and Hercules for Halloween because his back was that of a Greek God, the infamous open back suit. She loved his back.

Then, Gormley cross the kitchen softly, slipping her arms around his shoulders from behind and resting her cheek against his bare back. The coldness of is back was a luxury against her cheeks, still red from the numerous jump splits. No amount of concealer could hide those rosey cheeks.

“Hey.”

He pauses. Smiles. Hand still on the wooden spoon. “Hey,” he says, warm, voice low and casual.She holds him a second longer, then he turns around in her arms, wrapping her up into his chest, it’s second nature. A kiss on her temple. H

“Long day?” He says, noticing she hadn’t changed out of her veteran training clothes, she always did, claiming the shorts showed more of her cheeks than a bikini did. She was still in them, something must’ve happened. He knew her too well. His Gormley likes routine, and this, this wasn’t routine.

“Mmm,” she nods, clearly not much effort for much else. “I got dragged into the office.”

That gets his attention.

“Oh yeah?” he says, cocking a brow. “What’d you do this time?” Pulling back from the hug, as he plops her effortlessly on the counter of the island and moves in between her legs, a familiar calloused hand trailing from her knee to her hip bone continuously.

“Apparently there’s a growing concern about… fraternisation.” She says, as he dishes up the pasta he made and hands her a bowl which she accepts gratefully. His eyes go wide, and he smirks with pure mischief. It was no secret, Joe Burrow had confidence that could rival no one, he was secure in himself and secure in everything he could do. Nothing got him going like the thought of him being spoke about by her, he loved his name from her mouth, no matter the situation.

“Fraternisation?” He asked. Of course he knew, everyone knew. When the first season of America’s Sweetheart’s had come out the entire of TikTok questioned why Gormley, the stunning, talented, bubbly rookie hadn’t been pulled on this yet. Rules were rules.

“Mhm.” She said, mouth too full for a longer answer. He walks around the counter slowly, leaning in closer. She finishes chewing and notices Joe has already finished and is eagerly eyeing hers, which she hands over as he betroths a wink.

“Or, more specifically, between certain Bengals quarterbacks and a certain Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader, if you have any knowledge on that matter.” He lets out a low whistle.

“Damn. Sounds serious.” As he puts the bowls into the sink.

“Apparently we’ve ‘blurred lines.’”

“Well. In our defense…” he murmurs, fingers brushing her knee, “…those lines were already pretty blurred when you kept sneaking into my hotel room after games.” Joe, forever the most blunt person she’s ever met. That was a violation of DCC rules, but, she argued it was technically not breaking rules because she never done it when the Bengals played the Cowboys. Gormley was a rule follower.

“You invited me.” She said plainly.

“And you wore that hoodie with no pants.” He said even more plainly.

“They said if it happens again, there could be ‘disciplinary action.’” That was the punishment for breaking the rules, suspension, then eventually cut. That’s what happened at meetings, getting cut.

He lowers his voice.“So what I’m hearing is… we need to get better at not getting caught.” She kicks his shin from the counter and pushes his head away as he tries to steal a kiss.

“You’re not taking this seriously.” She huffs slightly, she loves Joe but she also loves DCC. Those girls are her sisters, her future bridesmaids. She doesn’t want one or the other, she wants both, she knows she wants both.

“Oh, I am,” he says, biting into a piece of garlic bread, chewing slowly. “I’m just not sure if they mean discipline like ‘a warning’… or like—” He leans in again, lips right at her ear, “—‘yes, sir’ kind of discipline.”

She kicks him again and he laughs sitting back, perfectly smug. “You’re going to get me fired, and I happen to like the uniform.” He leans in for a kiss, which she reciprocates gladly, the warmth of his tongue a comfort she didn’t know she needed. It was soft and slow, and contrasted both their schedules, packed and ruthless. He pulled away, and rested his forehead against Gormley.

“Just sayin’. If we’re breaking rules, we might as well make it interesting.”

I am beyond obsessed with both DCC and Joe soooo why have one when you can have both.

[matchalovertrait]

He's smiling a lil in the last pic..... trust 😁

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

NOTE: Okay okay, let's do this again! As some of you know, I have the Japan and Colombia trips in the queue. We will be switching back and forth between them, which will take about a month. This was done on purpose for the ✨ summer vibes ✨ (even though I did get a little carried away). At this point, I'm embracing the slow pace! It is what it is 😅 And since this has been going on for a long time, please don't hesitate to ask questions for clarity.

NOTE: This is the "Baby Store and More" lot by madevila123 :)

[The Baby Store]

[Antonio had to buy baby gifts for three different couples: Felix and Lilith Psyded, Lex and Jacqueline Mattingly, and Rafa Bonilla and Melissa Ramsay – so, for his colleague, boss, new friend, and their respective partners!]

FRANKIE: HOW MANY???

ANTONIO: Three registries.

FRANKIE: You’re joking!

ANTONIO: I’m really not.

FRANKIE: Jeez, were they all planned pregnancies?

[One of Frankie’s motives for taking part in the science baby research was to help same-sex couples have biological kids. However, Frankie isn’t a fan of children. Kids are loud, germ-ridden, and expensive.]

[Meanwhile...]

DANI: I still can’t believe that’s how you told Antonio you knew who his dad was.

[Yoltic let out a nervous laugh.]

YOLTIC: My guilt hasn’t gone away yet... I think it got to his head.

DANI: He’s convinced he looks just like his dad, but I don’t see it. Nobody else does either; otherwise wouldn’t someone have spoken up? His face is on a few billboards advertising the law firm, and Del Sol Valley has many Latin American immigrants...

YOLTIC: And you can’t find pictures of Fernando Romero online. He’s only been seen in person.

DANI: AND who else will make the connection by taking a photo of Antonio and DRAWING a mustache on him out of boredom?

YOLTIC: Not very many people, I imagine? I’m his only stylist, after all.

[One evening, Yoltic sought entertainment by thinking of ways to change Antonio’s hairstyle. He sketched a mustache out of sheer curiosity, and then a strange familiarity struck him.]

[The mustache-wearing Antonio reminded him of Fernando, rumored member of Los Venenosos. Years ago, Yoltic saw Fernando on the streets of Mexico. He was stunned, but didn’t act on it. That’s what you do to stay alive: Don’t get involved in the cartel’s affairs.]

[So, Yoltic drew Fernando next to the image of Antonio on a sheet of printing paper. The resemblance was uncanny. He held onto it until he confronted Antonio.]

[Yoltic felt brave enough to do so because Antonio was harmless. Moody, yes; but a good, kind-hearted guy.]

ANTONIO: A baby book about ghosts? It’s not on the registry, but it could be something Felix and Lilith would like.

FRANKIE: I say stick to the registry and only get ONE gift. You see? All kids do is take all your money.

ANTONIO: You’re not exactly scrambling for funds if you have a vacation home in Oasis Springs.

FRANKIE: I still sleep peacefully at night knowing I can’t accidentally knock somebody up.

YOLTIC: Same here!

[Frankie and Yoltic ran to each other and high-fived.]

FRANKIE: People who actually smile! I’ve been saved, thank you!

FRANKIE: You got hit with three registries, too?

DANI: No, just one for Lex and Jackie.

FRANKIE: See, how does Toño do it? He’s the quietest yet most popular one here.

YOLTIC: We need a detective in our group. Maybe they can get to the bottom of this mystery.

ANTONIO: A bigger mystery would be why I happen to be a magnet for the loudest, most talkative people in the universe.

[The four of them laughed. They usually teased each other, with Antonio being the main target. He honestly didn’t mind that.]

DANI: Since we’re all here, should we shop together? It’ll be fun!

ANTONIO: Okay, but I get dibs on the first nice thing we see. I was here first.

YOLTIC: Can’t argue with that.

DANI: It’s only fair after bullying you, too.

[Upstairs...]

YOLTIC: We are definitely NOT buying any of the clothes here. Why is everything literally polyester? Disgusting.

DANI: Oh, isn’t this walker cute?

ANTONIO: The elephants are nice.

FRANKIE: Research has shown that walkers aren’t necessary. Babies can walk on their own.

YOLTIC: Frankie, get up!

[Antonio watched as his loved ones interacted. This was... pleasant. It always was, but this time he truly got to relax and take it in. As much as going against his grandfather stressed him out, it also felt incredibly freeing.]

[reysdriver]

hi!! just wondering id you could possible make more dad!regulus fics?

you have some news you keep meaning to share with Regulus, but it's a struggle to find the time to tell him — dad!regulus x mom!reader fluff

warnings: reader is pregnant if you couldn't already tell from the description, I guess a little bit of angst and anxiety but it's mostly sweet

words: 2.4k

a/n: sorry this took so long, I'm actually so slow with requests and its a problem lol but I hope you like this! (also I'm testing out my man Mark as an alternative fancast for Regulus here)

All week, you’d been keeping a secret from your husband. 

It’s not that you hadn’t wanted to tell Regulus, you just hadn’t found the right opportunity. With two young children, it’s hard to find a moment alone for a serious discussion, but you knew that moment would come soon enough. 

If that moment came today, that would be preferable. You were ready to tell your husband you were pregnant again, and you were hoping you didn’t have to wait any longer. 

When Regulus came home from work, Aurora was napping and Perseus was upstairs playing in his room. Your husband dropped his stuff by the door and met you in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around you while you tended to the food on the stove. 

“Hi.” You giggled, melting into his touch. “How was work?”

“It was good.” He responded, then pressed a kiss to your cheek before letting go of you. “How was your day? How were the kids?”

“Wonderful, as always. We went for a walk, did some crafts, and now they’re both upstairs.”

As you spoke, you fixed some curly locks of his hair that were astray, and Regulus watched you, just as in love as when you had first gotten together. 

“You look like you’re a couple minutes away from falling asleep.” Regulus noted. “Are you alright?” 

You nodded lazily. “I’m fine. I think it’s just from how long it took to get Aurora to bed for her nap.”

That was a lie. You knew it was the pregnancy causing you to feel tired, just as it had been for the last couple days. You weren’t sure why you made up an excuse instead of just telling him right then and there. 

“Okay.” He said, skeptical about your answer but doing a wonderful job at hiding it. “Do you want to rest while I finish up dinner? Even just for a little bit?”

“I’m alright, love, really.” 

With that, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, your hands tangled in the same hair you had just fixed. You decided while kissing him that now was a good time to tell him. 

But before you let go of him, you heard a cascade of footsteps coming down the stairs, which caused you to break the kiss and ditch your mission of telling Regulus.

Perseus ran straight to his dad, so excited to see his dad after he was away at work all day. The little boy wrapped his arms tightly around his father’s legs, and Regulus leaned down to hug him back as well as he could. 

“Hey, Perse, did you miss me?” He asked, even though he could make an educated guess on that answer.

“Yes!” The boy nodded. “But I had a good day at home with Mummy!”

“Thank you, baby.” You smiled at him while you continued stirring the pot on the stove. 

Your son let go of his dad’s legs, but kept looking up at him. “I drew you a picture today! It’s upstairs in my room.”

“Do you want to show it to me?” Regulus asked. 

“After dinner. Can I help Mummy cook?”

Regulus lifted Perseus up and sat him on the counter next to you. “That’s a question for her.”

Your little boy looked at you with pleading eyes, hoping he could help you out, even if that just meant stirring the sauce a couple times. 

“I’m almost done, but you can still help me.” You said, handing him the wooden spoon. “Here, you can stir this gently. It’s all hot, so be very careful.”

He nodded, and did as you asked. While he did so, he continued chatting happily with Regulus about all the things you and the kids did today. And when dinner was over, you lifted Perseus off the counter and thanked him heavily for his ‘help’. 

Then as you plated it all, you asked Regulus if he could go wake up your daughter and bring her downstairs to eat with you all. He went upstairs, and by the time all the food was on the dinner table, he was coming back, this time with Aurora in his arms.

Her hair was messy from her nap and she was still yawning, but she seemed happy to see you and Regulus, plus a table of food right beside you both. 

She babbled the word “mama” as you took her from Regulus and sat her down in her high chair. 

“Yes, mama’s here.” You smiled. “And dada, and Perse, and dinner. Let’s eat!”

After dinner, you and Regulus sat on the couch as Perseus and Aurora played on the carpet in front of you, sometimes inviting you into whatever they were doing. The whole time, you were curled up close to your husband, thinking about how you were going to have another baby soon enough, and he had no idea yet. 

You could have whispered it to him right there; the moment was sweet enough. But you still wanted to tell him when it was just the two of you, then let the kids know after that. 

But you did still whisper something to him. Instead of telling him about the pregnancy, you kissed his cheek and spoke softly close to him. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He affirmed, lifting your hand lightly and kissing just above your wedding ring. 

You smiled and cuddled up even closer to Regulus—if that was even possible—and exhaled calmly. 

Later, you and Regulus took the kids upstairs, gave them their baths, and then started running through the usual nighttime routine. As monotonous and tiring as it could be sometimes, you really did cherish bedtime at home. 

It always ended with cuddles while you read or told a story to the kids, then getting into bed with your husband, and ever since Perseus was born, that’s been your favourite way to end a day.

You had decided between you and Regulus that you would put Perseus to bed and he would put Aurora in her crib. Once you finished reading Perseus his favourite storybook and he admitted that he was feeling sleepy, you tucked him in tightly and pressed a kiss to the apple of his cheek. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” You whispered. 

“Goodnight, Mummy.” 

And with that, you got up and closed the door quietly on your way out. You walked down the hall to your bedroom, where Regulus was already sitting on the bed in his pyjamas, reading the book he was keeping on his nightstand. 

“She went to sleep quickly?” You asked, picking out a nightgown from your drawer. 

“Yeah, really quick.” Regulus responded. “I think playing with her brother tired her out.”

“Well, whatever the reason is, I’m okay with it ‘cause it means we have more time to ourselves.” You teased, heading to the privacy screen in the corner while you changed. 

Since having two kids who constantly wanted to be around their parents and had a habit of walking in at the wrong times—sort of like tonight—the door lock and the privacy curtain, which once seemed like nothing but decoration, were now used quite frequently. 

“You can’t just say something like that and then hide from me!” Regulus called out.

You smiled and peeked your head out from the partition. “Can’t I?” 

Regulus shook his head amusedly and returned to his book while you changed. Once you were done, you threw your dress in the hamper and sat on the bed next to your husband. 

“You look stunning tonight, you know that?” Regulus told you, putting down his book and turning to face you. “I love that nightgown on you.”

You rolled your eyes, but crawled even closer to him. “You like anything on me.” 

“Well, of course.” He said, reaching out and cupping your face, bringing his lips to your temple. “But you look even more gorgeous than usual tonight. It’s not just the nightgown.” 

Regulus had always been quite skilled in flattering you. But tonight, his words were so much more than that, whether he knew it or not.

You laid down, then brought one hand his dark hair, and placed the other on his chest, smoothly pulling him down so he could properly kiss you. He melted into your touch, as always, and leaned down to get as close to you as he could. 

Your husband kissed you deeply, yet sweetly. So perfect, you closed your eyes and it felt like you were floating. 

While Regulus had one arm pressed down against the mattress to keep himself up and stable on top of you, his other hand found your waist, caressing lightly and pulling you closer. 

Then that’s when you felt the rush you’d been waiting to feel all week; this was finally the moment. 

You broke the kiss and gently pushed Regulus off of you. He looked slightly concerned.  he was worried he’d accidentally done something that had upset you, but that couldn’t have been further from the case. 

Seeing it on his face and wanting to let him know everything was alright before you actually spoke, you reached out and held his hand, offering a bit of comfort and reassurance.  

You spoke quietly. And you were nervous despite having no reason to be, so you looked into his perfect stormy eyes to ease your nerves. “Regulus, my love, there’s something I need to tell you.”

And just as you opened your mouth to tell him your secret, a low knock at your bedroom door caught your attention.

You sighed and gave Regulus an apologetic look before sitting up and telling Perseus to come in. 

The door opened, and your son walked over to your bed, looking stressed. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” You inquired, holding out your hand and beckoning him over. 

“I can’t find Wilbur.” He replied sadly. 

Oh, Wilbur. He was your son’s second favourite teddy bear, beating out the third place bear by a mile. Perseus couldn’t sleep with at least his top five surrounding him in his bed, so of course it wouldn’t go unnoticed if Wilbur was missing from the group. 

Before you could respond, Regulus was already getting up and scooping the boy into his arms. “Alright, let’s go find him, Perse.”

You started to stand up as well, but Regulus looked back and told you it was alright. 

“Stay in bed, love. We’ll go on a boys trip and find that bear.” He said to you, then turned to Perseus. “We’ll be okay, won’t we?”

That seemed to help cheer him up. Perseus nodded and then looked back over at you. “Yeah, okay. Goodnight again, Mummy!”

You smiled and gave him a small wave. “Goodnight again, baby.”

Then Perseus waved to you over his father’s shoulder, and you smiled back, until he was out of the room and you were completely out of sight. 

But that’s when your smile faded quickly. You couldn’t believe you had just left the conversation with Regulus like that. Of course, neither of you could control the fact that your son needed help with something right in that moment, but you were still quietly panicking. 

You worried that your husband’s mind was racing as much as yours right now, maybe even running to dark places while wondering what you were about to tell him. 

Despite wanting to start pacing around the room in worry, you stayed in bed, just as he had so nicely told you. 

A couple minutes later, you heard footsteps nearing your room, so you tried composing yourself and wiping away any remnants of fear on your face. When Regulus walked in and closed the door behind him, he looked calm. So either he wasn’t worrying at all like you thought he would, or he just did the same thing as you a second ago. 

“Did you find the bear?” You asked him.

Regulus nodded as he walked back towards the bed. “On the couch. Just forgot to bring him up before bedtime.”

“Well, it’s good you found it.” 

There was a silent moment where neither of you knew what to say. But you finally mustered up the words and continued the conversation. 

“Um, what I was going to tell you before—”

“I know.” Regulus said sympathetically.

“Know what?” You asked, unsure if he really knew what you were about to say.

He sat down next to you and placed his hand atop yours. His gaze never broke once, despite how you had your head held, looking at your lap. “I know you’re pregnant.”

“How?” You asked, finally looking up at him again. 

“We have two kids and you still don’t know how it all happens?” He asked with wide, teasing eyes. 

You let out a giggle and rolled your eyes. You could feel all your tension fade, and you realized that was exactly his goal. Regulus was just so good at that. 

“I mean how did you know?”

Regulus acted like he was just understanding your question, which made you laugh again. He looked at you, happy the anxiety you’ve had for the last week was leaving your body. 

“You’ve been tired, the same way you were with Aurora.” He started. “Your time of the month never came. Then you’ve been acting nervous and avoidant. Plus, I can always tell when there’s something off with you. You’re my wife, I know you better than anyone.”

You sniffled. No tears just yet, but they were close. 

“And, I think you’ve already got that glow to you.”

You waved your hand dismissively, doubting his flattery this time. Regulus looked offended that you would even suggest he was lying. 

“I think you’re seeing things.”

“I’m seeing what’s right in front of me, mon ange. You’re stunning. I would never lie to you.”

Instead of responding, you leaned forward and kissed him, once again continuing where you left off before. 

Once you let go, you pressed another gentle kiss to his cheek, then another for good measure. “So you’re happy too? Even though it’s a bit sooner than we were planning?”

“Of course I’m happy. As long as you want this, so do I. A couple months difference from our plan means nothing to me.”

“Good.” You grinned. “Because I’m really excited. But I haven’t even given any thought to names yet. I wanted to wait for you.”

Regulus glanced at the clock near the bed and shrugged. “It’s not too late tonight, want to start thinking?”

You smiled at him and nodded your head. “Go get an astronomy book, my love.”

[ifugrobots]

"So let me get this straight," the hallways of the Decepticon's warship echo with the tappings of cybertronian heels, as Eledie was guided around the vessel with Megatron and Soundwave as her guardian. Eledie has now purposely stayed in the ship with them as a... Human archivist for when the Decepticon ruled Earth.

Megatron stopped his track and turn to look at Eledie, raising a metallic brow at her, "Go on," he jeered.

"You and the Autobots have been at war for so long, it drains the energy to your home planet? Now, you continue that war with the Autobot on Earth that somehow is also an anti-planet of your original home planet?" Eledie remarked as she scratched her head trying to understand the logic that Megatron had explained to her.

"Oh you are quite certainly almost correct, you see if it weren't for Prime dragging his aft to this wretched planet, we would not even discover all of that and retrieved a lot of these Energon on your planet," Megatron turned to one of the rooms containing a large containers of crystals looking items and a machine containing a liquidized crystals.

Eledie's eyes lit up a little and pulled up her camera and took quite a photo. "Optimus has been my rival for eons, if it weren't for him constantly stopping me on my own plans, Cybertron would still be alive to this day." He continues, closing the door in front of them, "But, what I understand with all the explanations you told me, that sounds like enslavement you want to put upon your Cybertronian people," Eledie criticized.

Megatron turns his heels, looking down at the red-haired human, with a grin on his face her leans a little, "No, My dear humans, I only want to teach those who defies me. I intend once I ruled this world and revive Cybertron again, I will ensure those who follow me will live as they did before. Those are not?" He cackles and looks at Eledie's face, he is satisfied, "You already know where that goes."

Eledie gulped a little, gripping her camera tightly to her chest. Biting her lower lips, she looked back at Megatron, "If what you plan also means to destroy Earth's indigenous species, you just going to make the same mistake to Cybertron..." She mutters, Megatron burst out laughing.

He shakes his head a little, "Not all, Some humans would be spared... As Slave..."

"Okay do make up your mind, Megatron. You are doing an enslavement program here." Eledie jeered, rubbing her temple, "So basically you are going to kill everyone on Earth but leave those who want to be loyal to you, is it not?" Soundwave's slender fingers holding Eledie's shoulders as a sign of warning not to continue.

"Au contrairé, Eledie. Yes. But like you, I'm sure there are people who question my agenda. But I do like a very bold fleshlings like you, they made such an entertaining pets." Megatron grinned at her, seeing her face contorted into a little disgust.

Eledie was about to open her mouth, when she could hear an intercom coming from another of his commanders, Starscream shouting about an Autobot attacking one of their energon sites.

"Alas, Eledie. The tour has to end here. We will have this kind of conversation whenever I feel like it." He sneered, "Soundwave, you may bring your pet back to entertain yourself. Do make sure she stay, comfortably."

Megatron left the scene, Soundwave and Eledie were left alone together, "Is he always that precise?" she asked, Soundwave still holding both her shoulders and started to guide her around the ships again. She knows Soundwave is not much of a talker, but at times he will communicate with her using variables of signs or emojis. One thing for sure, she will be living in this ship for a long time next to her 'owner'.

[thistle-wrote]

Alone Time

John Price x F!reader CW: Sexual content, BDSM, consensual restraint, mildly suggestive language.

Your husband, God bless him, doesn’t always know how to deal with you, which, to be fair, is completely valid.

To understand his exasperation with your general aura and personality, you must first understand Johnathan Price. As an SAS captain, he’s had enough danger, excitement, and spontaneity to satiate him for the rest of his life.

This is what had originally attracted you to him, truthfully: how peaceful he made your life. No dramatic arguments, no real issues, actually. Sure, he’s a tad controlling, but it’s nothing overbearing, and truth be told, you never minded giving him that control. It’s no surprise the wedding happened so quickly after meeting; who wouldn’t give up today’s very questionable dating scene in favor of a man who finds whiskey and the newspaper “fascinating”?

Despite what most may consider ‘boring,’ you love your husband and his strange little interests. You think he must feel the same way about you, but in reverse: you’re the woman who barks at men in the pub just to weird them out enough to leave you alone; the woman who puts karaoke on the TV just to make him laugh; the woman who says things like, “How do we feel about me learning the harmonica?” and “What if I turned into a chicken… what would you do?”

He adds peace to your life; you add some much-needed energy to his. Your husband’s ‘boring’ nature, however, does not extend to the bedroom, because thank God, he was neither shocked nor put off when the third brown Amazon box this week showed up to your home.

“What’s that?” he hummed from his spot on his recliner, blowing out a plume of smoke as the words left his lips.

“Straps for the bed,” you said nonchalantly. Any embarrassment you may have once had pertaining to sex left your head a long time ago.

“Good purchase, love.” He chuckled and smiled. You knew that look: he was going to put that to good use. And good use he did. That evening, you two thoroughly tested the restraints, had what was honestly probably some of the best sex of your life, and knocked the fuck out.

The straps, your new favorite toy for the time being, got broken in a few more times in the next few weeks before you both inevitably lost a little interest. Despite the fact they hadn’t been used in over a month now, they still remain attached to your bed. “Just keep ’em there,” John had said. You figured maybe he planned on having one of those days he plays a little rough in the near future and left them. However, you were incredibly deceived.

Because your husband, while he loves your wild nature, also values his alone time, and he found his way to get it.

“Lovie,” John’s voice called from the bedroom. He typically doesn’t have to call more than once; that loud, deep voice could get anyone’s attention. So you made your way up the stairs to your shared bedroom, only to find John standing beside the bed.

“C’mere,” he said, the sound deep in the back of his throat. As you walked up to him, to put your hands on his bare, hairy chest, he lifted you, surprising you a bit, but you definitely were not complaining. You let out a little squeak as he placed you on the bed.

For a moment, your interest was quite piqued when you watched him grab hold of one of the straps to fasten it around your wrist. He hadn’t undressed your clothes, but you figured maybe that was part of the game.

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

You lay there, waiting patiently as he tightened all four straps. You didn’t speak much, just watched him. However, what was turning into excitement died and turned into confusion as he grabbed the remote to the telly once he’d adequately had your hands cuffed.

“What are you doing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him, the confusion visible on your face.

“Bunny rabbit,” he began with a little smirk, a mischievous look on his face that you very rarely see.

“Yes, sir?” you asked, laughing at him just a little bit, more out of amusement or confusion than anything else.

“I have been trying to read that book for three weeks. Do you know why I can’t?” he asked you. His question had no genuine irritation or anger; his words were followed by soft laughs.

“No?” you asked. If you were being honest, you hadn’t even realized he didn’t finish that book yet.

“Well, I can’t concentrate, because you’ve been humming that song nonstop, and I can’t focus… so I’ve come up with a solution. I’m gonna turn on a movie, and you’re gonna stay here until I finish my book.” He smiled. Both you and he knew that if he had just asked you to stop humming, you would’ve. Clearly, this was fun for him. You weren’t in any harm, you weren’t upset, so you decided to go along with it. It’s been forever since you’ve actually sat down and watched a movie anyway.

“Seriously?”

“Dead serious, rabbit.” And so, through your giggles, you watched as he checked the straps, turned on some ’90s movie, and left the room. Actually, you ended up falling asleep in the middle of the movie, but John finished his book.

Only John would think to use the sex toy you bought just to get some alone time.

CoD Masterlist

[singerwriter04]

Trials & Tribulations - Spying & Fighting Series

Pairing: Yelena (White Widow) Belova x Fem! CIA agent Reader

Category: Angst, pain, hurt/comfort, difficult ending, ptsd

Summary: After months of being on assignments, Y/N is finally on a break, until she gets a call from a drunken Yelena, and has to go to her, help her, and figure out what she's been going through. Which leads to Yelena showing how hard the grief, pain, and ptsd has been hitting her.

Word Count: 515

Warnings: Alcoholism, PTSD, grief, drunken state

You get a call from Yelena, and it seemed very concerning. You have only been able to talk on the phone for the past year, because you’ve been dealing with endless amounts of work. 

So, you head to her apartment, and walk in, seeing the bottles everywhere. Which leads to you running to find her, and finding her in the bathroom.

“...Lena?” you question, as you slowly walk over to her, “..Y-y/n-?” she chokes out, and you can see the empty bottles next to her, and the pain you feel in your chest grows to the size of a watermelon.

You immediately help her up, while starting to clean up the room for her. 

After you finish cleaning up the room, you ready a bath for Yelena, and help her into it, while cleaning her off yourself. Luckily, the bath seems to start elevating her drunken state.

“Y/N?” She mutters, and you chuckle while running a hand over her ear, “..Yes, Lena?” you ask, and she looks up at you with that pitiful expression again, that leads you to realizing why this happened. “When..did you arrive?” she asks, and you look at her softly, “you called me, do you remember? I’ve been here for 2 hours, Lena..” “..you have? I did? I don’t-” she starts, and you shake your head while putting a finger in front of your mouth, “Shoosh, just let me help you.”

*********

The next day, you’re up, making her breakfast, and see her walk in while you’re making Mac n Cheese, and feel her wrap her arms around your waist, “We’re the most best-friends that act like lovers to ever live, Lena” you giggle into her, and she buries her head in your shoulder, “Thank you for coming over last night, I don’t even remember calling, but I’m glad I did. I was just… missing Nat… and remembering.. and the bottle was right the-” she mumbles, and you interrupt her immediately, “hey hey, I understand, you needed someone, I’m just glad I was available to come as fast as I did.” you express, and she smiles while nodding, “Are you making Mac?” she asks, and you chuckle, “Yep,” “With sriracha?” “Absolutely, that’s the best way to eat it” you giggle, and get lathered in kisses for that.

*******

While we’re eating, you decide to ask, “How long has this been happening, Lena?” and hear her breathe out deeply, “It’s been happening for a while.. Everytime I think about Nat, about the Red Room, about all the people I’ve killed…” she goes on, and you stop eating to hug her, as she sobs into your embrace. “I’m so so so so sorry Lena, you don’t deserve this pain.. I wish I could take it so you didn’t have to deal with it” you mutter into her hair, and the two of you stay like that for awhile.

When you do leave, it’s only because you got called into an assignment, but you make sure Yelena knows you’ll try to be there as often as you possibly can manage.

[samijey]

Jey Uso "apologizes" to Drew Mcintyre (RAW 04/03/2024)

[grimoirefate]

TAG DROP 001

[ ooc. ] i'm a nice person so long as you are nice to me. my muses are not the only ones with teeth.

[ ic. ] i once feared mythal would consume me were i to carry her. but twas not so. i remain free willed and mortal.

[ mythal & solas ] ...are not for you alone to bear my friend. the many wrongs we did. we did together. I release you from my service.

[ mythal introspection ] I pulled you from the fade you loved and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon and it broke you.

[ introspection ] when she intended me to become the next host of an ancient gods soul I feared naught would be left of my own.

[ veilguard ] I have been advisor to orlais. witch of the wilds. daughter of flemeth. and once long ago an old friend.

[ inquisition. ] I knew the empress was intrigued by the arcane and I could answer questions no chantry mage could.

[ origins. ] well. well. what have we here? are you a vulture I wonder? a scavenger? poking amidst a corpse? or intruder?

[ answered: ooc. ] its me. the equivalent of a spicy kitten in a corner.

[ answered: ic. ] yet she survived and returned ages later to aide the inquisition in its hour of need. how?

[ psa. ] hear ye! hear ye! use those things on the side of your head or be doomed.

[ saved. ] im like a dragon when it comes to things i like.

[ prompts / memes. ] twas both a pleasure and necessity to help them as it is now.

[ crack. ] ooooo! you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you!

[ salt. ] i'm bitter and now i'm making it everyone's problem.

[ birthday. ] its my hatch day!!!!

[ self promotion. ] would that I could become them I would for now this will do.

[ promotion ] look! its the people I like! I think you will like them too!

[tojicide]

JEALOU$Y. ☆ CALEB.

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦. at the end of the day, you and caleb are just childhood friends—nothing more, nothing less. so, when you mention going on a date, it’s totally logical that he wouldn’t care, right? if only that were the truth.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. fem!reader, current!caleb, zayne mention, jealousy, pet names, praise, oral ( fem. receiving ), cowgirl, unprotected p in v, creampie. 𝑤𝑐. 5.4k.

𝑛𝘰𝑤 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔. jealou$y — the neighbourhood.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Doomsday has finally dawned upon Linkon City, though Caleb seems to be the only person truly affected by this catastrophe.

It was all his fault in the grand scheme of things. He hadn’t been clear enough, hadn’t shown the full extent of his feelings for you. But above all, he should have never offered Zayne those measly words of advice.

He should have known that the doctor had ulterior motives. Why else would he have called Caleb up one week ago to ask about you of all people?

It was a mean ploy, truly. Anyone and everyone knows about Caleb’s inability to shut up about you, his sole weakness was being exploited right in front of his eyes and he was none the wiser. The questions seemed harmless then. Posed as genuine curiosity, Caleb would have never been able to decipher the hidden intent behind each word that Zayne spoke into the receiver.

What are her days off? What does she do in her free time? You said that the restaurant around the corner from Akso Hospital was her favorite, yes?

In retrospect, he should have absolutely seen this coming. But then again, nothing could have ever prepared Caleb to hear those four life-altering words slipping from your lips.

“I have a date.”

A record scratches in his brain, forcing him to halt his steps for an abnormally long time before he slowly turns to face you. “You… what?”

Hearing the words repeated in that saccharine tone of yours only added salt to the wound, oddly enough. It physically pained him to ask for more information about your date, though he managed to hide his disdain with that boyish grin of his and a bit of lighthearted teasing.

But inside? That little green monster was stirring, and there was very little he could do to quell it.

Begrudgingly, he managed to get the key details before forcing himself to stow away in his bedroom and… think. Next Thursday. 6 PM. Maltosio Restaurant. With Zayne.

The next week passed by in an agonizingly slow fashion. It was as though each X that marked a passing day was a physical blow to his already aching heart, and those adorable images of the kittens on his calendar (the calendar that you picked out) did very little to help him.

Subtlety was never his strong suit, but then again, desperate times call for desperate measures. And believe Caleb when he says that he is very much desperate.

“Soo…” he’d drawl, leaning over the back of the couch to peer down at you. “I heard there’s a screening of that movie you’ve been wanting to see at the drive-in next Thursday. Wanna come with?”

You perked up like a ball of excitement, and for a moment, Caleb allowed himself to get his hopes up, but your frown quickly dissipated them. “Next Thursday? Oh, no, I can’t make it! I’m going out with Zayne, remember?”

Of course he remembered. That was exactly why he hadn’t let up—not even once—in his attempts to distract you just enough to make you forget all about your dinner plans. He could take you out for a nice dinner too. Say, that’s actually a good idea…

The next day, Caleb tried that one.

“Oh, pip-squeak,” he sang, his airy voice ringing through your apartment as he walked down the hallway. “I got us reservations at the restaurant in Skyhaven that you’ve been itchin’ to check out.”

You perked up, just like you did before. “Really?”

He nodded with a triumphant grin, internally patting himself on the back for his own good idea. “Mm-hmm. Next Thursday. Got us those window seats you wanted too—the ones that overlook the city.”

And once again, your gaze softened, and an all-too-adorable pout tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Oh, Caleb, I’m sorry. I’m busy that day.”

You really are too sweet for your own good. He can’t even blame Zayne for taking an interest in you, he’d be downright shocked if any man with two seeing eyes had the audacity to not think that you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Caleb sure does. He always has. He always will.

It wasn’t long before the day of reckoning was upon him. Thursday evening. Sunlight cut through the blinds in the living room, casting golden hues across the vast space. Much to his dismay, the trashy reality television you’d left on the screen did very little to soothe his worries.

He fidgeted with the dog chains you’d gifted him, his thumb brushing along the gift that you had so kindly given him. It was a testament to your bond. A bond that something as trivial as a single evening apart couldn’t tamper with… right?

“Caleb!” Your antsy voice cut through the air, forcing his wandering mind to snap back to reality.

He was up and down the hallway before you could even say another word, pressing a flat hand to your door to nudge it open. It was then that he saw you, all dolled up in your robe with your favorite dresses laid out on your bed.

Your hands grasp onto two of the hangers, holding them up side-by-side to help him get a better look at them. Though, his eyes were noticeably distracted, contorted in an unfamiliar lovesick expression as they pierced into yours. “Quick! Which do you think is cuter?”

Caleb blinks—once, twice, three times—until he forces himself to finally look down at the dress options in your grasp. He’d seen you wear them plenty of times before, and the thought of someone else seeing you in such beautiful fabric nearly made his stomach lurch.

He raises his forearm, leaning against the doorframe as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, c’mon, that’s an impossible choice. You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.”

It was a typical response, one that you were expecting, though his lack of advice made you hmph as you lost yourself in your thoughts. “Well… I hear polka dots symbolize happiness and stripes symbolize slipping between realms. Pretty interesting stuff, huh?”

“Very interesting,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging up at the mere sound of your voice. “Is that why you buy so many things in those patterns?”

You quirk an eyebrow, confusion etching into your expression. “Huh? What else do I buy that’s…” It quickly dawns on you, and you can feel heat creep up your neck and reach your face. “You’re a jerk.”

Caleb can’t help but laugh, taking a few steps into the room so that he can properly look at each and every one of the dress options laid out on your bed. “What’s the matter? If I remember correctly, someone was beggin’ me to do her laundry. Somethin’ about the laundry machine being sooo far and your feet hurting sooo bad.”

Huffing and far too flustered for your own good, you shake your head. “Well… well I didn’t realize you were so observant.”

He clicks his tongue, absentmindedly pinching your side as he leans down to rest his chin in the dip of your shoulder. “Tsk. You know I’m always observant when it comes to you. Even if it’s remembering something as trivial as the patterns of your cute little undies.”

You swat him away. “You’re so annoying!”

To that, he can only chuckle, giving your sides a brief squeeze before taking a few steps back. “Alriiight, alright, I’ll leave you alone.” Before exiting the room entirely, he hangs onto the doorframe, giving you a soft smile. “I’m serious though. You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” His lips curve into a smirk. “But if you want my input—you know I’ve always been a sucker for seeing you in florals.”

And with that, he whisks away, silently hoping and praying that this date will fall through on its own. Plopping back down on the couch, his eyes are practically glued to his watch. 5:48 PM. It wouldn’t be long before Zayne would be knocking at the front door—punctual as ever. Oh, it made him sick.

How could he have done this? To you, to himself? Caleb should be ashamed. He should be the one sitting across from you later tonight, holding your hand and listening to you ramble about whatever your heart desires. It should be him. It would have been him if he wasn’t so damn afraid.

But the sound of approaching heels clicking along the hardwood floor quickly snapped him out of his pity party, prompting him to look over his shoulder. And there you were once again, now adorned in a floral sundress that had made him lose his mind more times than he’d like to admit.

Under his breath, he can’t help but mutter, “Yeah, you’re gonna kill me…”

It was his favorite dress of yours, too. You really were trying to kill him. A white dress that was littered with blue flowers, the fabric fit you perfectly, loose and fitted in all of the right places.

Zayne didn’t deserve to see you like this. Plain and simple.

Standing from the couch, he lets out a low, appreciative whistle. “There she is,” he says, taking your hand to spin you around a single time. His smile only widens as he sees yours. “You look gorgeous, just like I knew you would.”

You roll your eyes with a bashful smile, one that he has to physically fight the urge to kiss away. “Oh, you flatter me,” you say through a laugh.

He shakes his head, bringing a hand up to gently smooth down a pesky hair on the top of your head. “Can’t be flattery if I mean every word of it.”

A breeze wafted through the open window, blowing the fabric of your dress ever so slightly. The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers infiltrates the living room, though the scent of your perfume and something that was uniquely you had his full attention.

“Y’know, you can be pretty nice when you want to be,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

Chuckling, he simply nods, his large hands settling on your middle. “Yeah. When I want to be.”

You brush past him, padding over to the back door. Pushing it open, you step out onto the warm concrete patio, breathing in the fresh air that the backyard had to offer you. Spring in Linkon was always a delight, though the warmth that Caleb radiates behind you serves to be the most comforting thing about the entire scene.

His hand comes to rest on the curve of your shoulder, his fingers nimbly pulling at one of the straps of your dress. With his heart rate shooting through the roof, he forces himself to take a moment. He needs to get this right. This may be the last chance he’ll be able to do this.

“I… look, there’s something that I—”

But suddenly, the sound of rapping knuckles at the front door cuts through the tense silence. Both of your attention is drawn to the closed door, and having left the back door open, you both have a clear view of it.

You turn around to face Caleb, offering him a sheepish smile. “That’s probably Zayne.”

He only nods, forcing his hand to fall back to his side. “Yeah, probably.”

This was it. He was losing you. It stung to know that this was no one’s fault apart from his own. His inability to be honest about his feelings, his lack of forwardness with you… what was he expecting? That you’d never date? That he could keep you happy forever without offering you anything more?

It was a stupid fantasy, one that had earned him this spot. But when he saw you turn to leave, your eyes still locked on his, a surge of panic shot up his spine. His eyes flit around—the grass, the flowerbeds, the hose… that was currently filling up the pool…

“Be mad at me later,” he suddenly says.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Wha— ah!”

Before you could even begin to process what was happening, you were suddenly pushed back into the chamber full of chlorine infested water. Caleb watches with a wry expression as you shoot up from beneath the water, splashing aimlessly as you swim towards the edge.

“What the fuck was that?” you bark, perching one elbow up onto the concrete as you reach the other one out to him. “What the hell are you looking at? Help me out!”

Caleb can’t even protest, not with the incredibly irrational stunt he’d just pulled. “I’m sorry, pip-squeak, I just…” And so, he reaches down, his hand clasping around yours… until you pull him forward with all of your strength and send him tumbling into the pool too.

And when he comes up for air, you splash him the moment he opens his eyes. Serves him right. The chlorine will sting his eyes almost as much as your mascara is stinging yours right now.

With that, you pull yourself out of the pool, a trail of water marking your path as you wring out the fabric of your dress. After that, you disappear inside of the house, leaving Caleb to rub his eyes in utter defeat.

He gives you both a long stretch of alone time before he retreats back into the house like a kicked puppy, his head hanging low as he runs a hand through his wet strands of hair. You’ve evidently told Zayne that today wasn’t going to work anymore, judging by his lack of presence, and that thought alone makes Caleb more happy than he should be.

Sucking in a short breath, he knocks twice at your shut bedroom door. “Honey? It… it’s me.”

“Go away,” you retort without missing a single beat.

Caleb pokes his tongue into his cheek as he leans forward, resting his forehead on the cool surface of your bedroom door. “C’mon. Just… talk to me.”

It doesn’t take long before the door is swung open, revealing an incredibly angry version of you with a freshly cleaned face. He opens his mouth to speak, to apologize, to try and rectify the situation in any way he can, but you beat him to it. Quickly.

“How dare you?” you spit, jabbing your index finger into his chest. “What was that, Caleb? Are we ten years old again? Your method of communication is… is pushing me into the damn pool?”

He sighs, catching your hand to unfold your closed fingers. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I—”

“No!” you cut him off, sticking your other index finger into his chest. “It’s your turn to listen. You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, you’re all I’ve ever known, all I’ve ever wanted. Do you know how it feels to have everything you want dangled in front of you for so many years, and… and just torn away? Time and time again?”

Caleb is rendered speechless, his brows furrowed in both confusion and a sense of odd relief as you unleash all of the thoughts that you’ve kept hidden for so long. He doesn’t bother catching your other hand, instead, he allows you to repeatedly jab at his chest. It hurts, but he can handle it. Just like he can handle the words you’re saying.

“So, you know what? I decided that enough was enough!” you continue, your index finger pressing wildly into the hard planes of his chest. “I wasn’t going to wait around, I wasn’t going to pretend, I was going to move on! And… and I was going to!”

He tilts his head, his amethyst eyes growing fuzzy as he looks down at you. “Was going to?”

You huff, eyes narrowing as you jab your finger into his chest for a final time before turning away from him. “Well, I’m not exactly going on a date anymore, am I?”

Caleb nods, though you can’t see it. He leans against the doorframe, his gaze tracing your silhouette through the soaked fabric of your dress. Sighing, he straightens off the wall, but before he can turn away, you spin around to face him.

“And you know what else?” you huff. “You know the solution to this problem just as well as I do.”

He nods his head with a single jerk of his chin, beckoning you to continue. “Yeah? What’s that?”

You step closer, and for the final time, you stab your finger into his pec. “You need to grow a pair.”

Inhaling deeply, all he can do is smile. It infuriates you and he knows it, but he just can’t help himself. He takes both of your wrists and tugs you forward until your chest presses against his own, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek.

You’re slowly simmering down, the heat of your outburst dissipating as your skin cooled. With your eyebrows still furrowed, all you can do is look up at him, daring him to speak. To do anything.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your bottom lip.

Swallowing thickly, you nod. “A little.”

He slowly nods his head, his fingers curving along your jaw before he cups your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. “Is there anything I can do to help with that?”

You can feel his breath fan along your lips, cool and minty and just about everything you could have ever fantasized about on your own. You part your lips to reply, but this time, Caleb is the one who beats you to it.

“We’re making puddles all over the floor, you know.”

Glancing down, you see the truth in his words. The pool water dripped from your respective clothing and gathered around the two of you, making a wry smile find your lips.

“Oh,” you breathe, “I didn’t even notice.”

“I like to think I’m pretty observant when it comes to you,” he murmurs, smoothing his free hand along your side until it grasps onto the fabric of your dress. “Need some help with this?”

You look up, meeting his gaze once more. “With… with what?”

“Well,” he drawls, his fingertips brushing along your outer thigh as he slowly drags the fabric upward. His movements are hesitant and cautious, his eyes flickering between each of yours. “You’re wet. I’m wet. Maybe we can… help each other dry off.”

Your eyelids falter as they flit between his, your gaze instinctively falling to the plush curve of his bottom lip. “Okay,” you murmur.

A smile tugs at his mouth. “Okay. Arms up.”

Slowly, you lift your arms above your head. His hands work together to slowly push the fabric of your dress up and over your head, letting it slip onto the floor with a wet plop.

His breath is nearly torn from his lungs the moment he sees your bare skin, so beautiful and soft and made to be his. Hesitantly, his fingertips trace the curve of your hips with a sense of reverence.

“Do you need help too?” you ask, your voice breathy from the restrained sense of need that has come over you.

Pausing his exploration of your bare skin, Caleb finds himself nodding, almost immediately lifting his arms over his head. “Please.”

And now, you take the opportunity to do the same. Slowly, you peel his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aimlessly into the laundry hamper near the door. Your gaze traces over the defining lines of his abdomen, your touch doing the same as it trails southward.

His lower stomach tenses up as your fingers brush against the hem of his jeans. He can’t help the way his eyes flutter shut, the way a touch so simple can nearly bring him to his knees. Breathing shakily, he leans down to rest his forehead on yours.

“Careful,” he breathes in warning, his voice taking on a raspy tone.

You almost startle at the unfamiliarity of his voice, though you push your hesitation aside as your thumb brushes over the button of his pants. “But… these are wet too.”

A huff of air leaves his mouth, the sound something between a low laugh and a groan. He forces his eyes open, his stare meeting your own. “Trying to get me naked before our first kiss? I have to say, you’re full of surprises.”

Faltering, your hands fall away from his pants. “You’re right, I… I’m—”

Caleb can’t help but chuckle, taking a hold of your hands to bring them right back to where they were before. This time, he guides your fingers through the motion of unbuttoning his pants. “Kidding,” he whispers against your lips. “Besides… we’re good at multitasking, yeah?”

You’re nodding before you can truly process his words. “Yeah.”

His lips crash onto yours with a groan that omits from deep within, the button of his jeans finally popping open from your ministry. The zipper went next, tugged down along with the fabric entirety until he was left in only his boxers.

His hands roam your curves greedily, eating up every inch of skin that he has deprived himself of for far too long. Your waist, your hips, your thighs—he needs to feel you in any way possible.

And you return his eagerness so well, wrapping your arms around his neck as you draw him in even closer. His hands worked quickly, hoisting you up until your legs wrapped around his waist as he walked the both of you over to your bed.

Laying you down on the mattress, he takes the initiative to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip to gain access that you readily give him. He can’t help but moan into your mouth, the sweet taste of your tongue tangling with his own forcing his brain to short circuit in a way he’s never experienced before.

You kissed him like there was no tomorrow, and he was loving every second of it. Your hands fisted into his hair while your lips moved in tandem with his, a soft whimper leaving your mouth as his hands gave your hips a firm squeeze.

His lips trail down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your neck and the curve of your shoulder as he uses his grip on your hips to pull you flush against him. A gasp leaves you at the feeling of his erection pressing against your clothes sex, the friction so delicious that it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Caleb is so far gone, kissing his way along your arms, your neck, your sternum, all up until he reaches the valley of your breasts. He wastes very little time there, licking a trail to your nipple before sucking the peak into his mouth. His other hand palms at your other breast, kneading the soft flesh in his palm.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, his hips rocking forward as he switches sides, latching onto your neglected breast and giving it a hard suck. “So beautiful.”

His descent continues as he mouths at the soft skin of your belly, your hips, your inner thighs. His eyes depart from yours as they settle onto the fabric covering your cunt, and a grin stretches across his face. Polka dots.

You scoff, softly shoving his shoulder. “Don’t even say it.”

Chuckling, he leans in to press a kiss on the damp patch of fabric. “Wasn’t gonna say anything, baby.”

His fingers hook beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs and tossing them aimlessly. His lips press feverish kisses to your ankles, your calves, your inner thighs, and eventually, the mound of your pussy.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispers into your heat, hiking your legs up and over his shoulders and he pulls your sex closer to his mouth. “So damn worth it.”

A cry leaves you as his tongue delves in deep between your legs, his eyes slipping shut as he lets out an unabashed whimper into your sex. His grip on your thighs only tightens, keeping your legs spread apart as they threaten to press in on his head.

He wouldn’t have that. He couldn’t. He needed to have you in the way that he’s dreamt of for so long, in the way that he’s thought of time and time again as he fucked his own fist to the thought of you. It was filthy, it was lewd, but it was honest.

You tasted better than he could have ever imagined, his tongue eagerly lapping at your inner walls before his lips sealed around your puffy clit, sucking hard enough to make your back bow off the plush mattress.

The stimulation is leaving you feeling overwhelmed, your hands pushing into his hair as your trembling thighs test the strength of his grip. You whine, eyes slipping shut as your head tilts back against the pillows.

“It— it’s too much—”

“Be good,” he finds himself saying, pulling you right back to his mouth as he continues to feast on your pussy like a man starved. “You can take it, baby.” Caleb cracks open his eyes, sucking harshly onto your clit before releasing it with a wet pop. “Go on, pretty girl. Say it.”

You whine, though you hardly have the brain power to say anything else apart from what he’s asked of you. “I… I can take it,” you breathe.

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your sensitive pearl before nipping at it. “There you go.”

It doesn’t take much longer for your legs to begin to tremble once more, your body writhing in his grasp as he sets you any way but loose. Your hips buck up, a final resort for reprieve as he works you over the edge.

Caleb redoubled his efforts, spreading your thighs even wider. Soon, the warmth pooling in your lower stomach was far too much to bear, far more intense than anything you had ever experienced before.

“I’m… I’m coming,” you gasp out, hands gripping tightly onto his dark locks of hair.

And when you do, his flattened tongue laps at your honeyed release. He works you through your high, his movements eventually slowing down as the twitching of your hips gradually calms.

He pulls off of you with a wet pop, pressing soft kisses to your swollen clit. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, pressing another peck on your mound before he moves back up your body once more to slot his lips against yours.

You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only spurs you on further. Your hands grasp onto his shoulders, and in one swift motion, you flip him onto his back. Caleb looks up at you with a starry-eyed expression, but when you straddle his hips and sit in his lap, he has no words of protest. None at all.

“You really are full of surprises,” he says, running his hands along the warm skin of your thighs.

Tugging him free from his boxers, he helps you remove them from his body, leaving you both entirely bare together. He sits up, his back pressing against the headboard as he tugs you closer to him.

“I need you,” he whispers, pressing a longing kiss on your stomach as you shift to straddle him once more. “Please, baby.”

You gaze down at him, your fingers brushing through his hair. “Please what?”

He leans into your touch, his hands settling onto your waist as he pulls you lower, the head of his cock pressing against your pussy. “Make yourself feel good. Please.”

Caleb’s own cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue, both from the embarrassment that his own lack of experience brought upon him and the reality of finally having the love of his life in such an intimate way. His amethyst eyes search your face, as if searching for a permission that he didn’t know how to ask for.

Dipping your head, you press a soft kiss on his lips. Simultaneously, you swivel your hips until the tip of his length catches your entrance. You slowly lower yourself, feeling the way his cock stretches you out, filling you up in a way that only he can.

He smiles at you, cupping your cheek with his hand. Brushing a thumb over your bottom lip, he kisses you gently. “You feel so good,” he whimpers into your mouth, his other hand resting on your hip as you roll your hips in a way that has his breath hitching in his throat. “So fucking perfect.”

Your movements are timid at first, consisting of a slow and meticulous rocking of your hips. His cock stuffed you full, his tip kissing the deepest points of your inner walls with ease, earning a muffled whimper from your mouth that his lips swallowed up eagerly.

Caleb’s hands grasped tightly onto your hips, helping you set a pace that had the both of you losing your mind. He leans backward, his head tilting against the headboard as it slams against the wall with each intense grind of your hips.

“Good girl, give it to me how you like it,” he breathes, eyes cracking open to watch the way you look down at him as you work yourself on his length. “Use me however you need me, baby, there you go.”

Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him in for a longing kiss. “I… you— you feel so…” you stammer, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder as you lose yourself on his cock.

He nods his head in agreement, turning his head to press a kiss on your damp cheek as he gently pets your hair. “I know, I know.”

You lose yourself all together, your legs shaking as you tighten your hold on him. “Caleb!” you moan.

His hips help you the rest of the way, his grip on your hips keeping you firmly planted as he meets your movements with thrusts of his own. “I know it, baby, I’ve got you,” he pants through a smile, guiding you through a few more fleshed out grinds on his lap. “Atta girl, use those hips.”

His arms wrap around you entirely, crushing you against the hard planes of his chest as you slowly ride the both of you through your shared orgasm. In that moment, in your house, in this space that belonged to you and Caleb alone—the two of you became one.

Heavy breathing and hammering heartbeats is all that consumes the two of you for a long while, skin to skin with far too much bliss brewing in your chests for either of you to handle alone.

Huffing softly, Caleb runs a hand up your side. “You okay in there?” he asks, turning his head to pepper soft kisses along your cheek. “C’mon, I need some proof of life.”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. “Shut up, give me a second.”

He merely smiles, wrapping his arms around your middle once more as he tucks your head beneath his chin. Thirty seconds after finishing and you’re already mean. “There’s my girl.”

Caleb’s hands smooth over the soft planes of your back, giving your hips a soft squeeze as he revels in the feeling of your heartbeat drumming against his own. He can’t help himself from pressing a few kisses on the top of your head, his arms opting to wrap even tighter around you.

“I love—” he cuts himself off, eyes widening dazedly. Would that be too much? A confession of his undying love not long after ruining your date and making love with you for the first time? After a stretch of awkward silence, he kisses your head once more. “I love… cuddling with you. You’re so soft.”

You smile, nuzzling even closer to his chest, your nose brushing against skin. “Mm, I love you too, Caleb.”

His eyes widened, though he knows that communicating his confusion is futile. You knew him so well, too well.

“You do?” he whispers, turning his head just enough to look down at you.

In response to that, you nod. “Mm-hmm. I’ll love you even more if you tell me that you didn’t cancel those dinner reservations.”

Caleb smiles, running a hand over your hair. As if he’d given up his last ditch effort to take you out. “You know I didn’t.”

𝑛𝘰𝘵𝑒. rip zayne i still love you king!!! also i actually don’t really know how to write for caleb… so… i hope this didn’t suck! this is the only fic that managed to break my intense writer’s block that i’ve had for the past two months. reblog/comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate you reading so much <3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

[confuzing]

Street kid Luo Binghe makes the mistake of letting some weirdo get a hold of him and finds himself locked up in a windowless room somewhere.

The only bright spot in this shit situation is that there's another boy in there with him. Shen Yuan is clearly in considerably worse shape than Luo Binghe and he says he's been here for a very long time. But he's so kind to Binghe and deliberately draws their captor's attention to himself (and away from Binghe) whenever he can.

He also, after Binghe's been there about a month, steals their captor's keys, unlocks the restraints they're both in, and then shoves Binghe out the boarded up window he's been prying open when he had time.

Shen Yuan is too big to fit through the window, he says. They both know that's not true but they can also both hear that their captor is coming-he must have noticed the keys were missing- and Shen Yuan intends to stall him while Binghe gets away.

Binghe promises to come back with help and SY just smiles and nods and shoos him away.

He runs as fast as he can, and once he's far enough away from the house he escaped from he starts asking for help- but no one is listening to him. And he knows if he goes to the local guard he'll probably be handed back over as a runaway slave... And then he sees two men who both seen almost to shine in the dirty city streets... they must be cultivators, they must. If anyone can help him now it will be them. So Luo Binghe throws himself at the taller of the two men and starts begging for help.

Shen Qingqiu is absolutely positive this kid is trying to lure them into an ambush, but Yue Qingyuan- who invited himself along on SQQ's mission without asking him- doesn't think so.

YQY goes with LBH, and SQQ follows, complaining that this is a trick the whole way- up until they discover that yes actually the local nobleman does have a secret room he's been imprisoning children in and there is indeed an almost beaten to death SY in there.

YQY sends SQQ off with SY- gotta get that kid medical attention ASAP- while he and LBH stay behind to Politely Ask Some Questions.

When YQY and LBH arrive back at the sect SY is still in the medical ward but isn't dying and is even awake! LBH is relieved and refuses to leave him again.

YQY fills SQQ in that not only were both boys not slaves, SY was actually the son of the nobleman's first wife she had as the result of an affair. He disappeared from the household around the time the first wife died and all the servants assumed their Lord had sold the boy or killed him outright.

But now that the nobleman has died a sudden and painful and extremely mysterious death it looks like SY has inherited the estate. YQY will have someone from An Ding go sort out the details since SY can't.

SQQ watches YQY smile at the little urchins they've rescued and talk in a way that obviously means he intends them to stay and says, internally 'Fuck no Qi-ge you don't get to replace me with a Shen you actually did manage to save. Absolutely not!'

Out loud the conversation goes:

SQQ: I want the older boy.

YQY: What?

SQQ: You intend for them to stay right? I want the older boy for Qing Jing Peak, you can keep the little one if you want.

YQY, pleased and assuming SQQ and SY must have bonded while he and LBH were away: Of course.

SQQ and SY have not bonded, and once they get back to QJ Peak things are tense. SQQ is low-key kinda jealous of SY and also reminded much too much of himself by the boy. Except he was never as naive and stupid as this kid is! Why is he so nice? How?? And the little shit isn't even afraid of him!

SY, deeply sarcastic: Oh nooo. I'm going to be beaten? Such a thing has never happened to me before! *Coughs because his throat is permanently messed up from being nearly strangled to death*

SQQ, aware that if he hits the kid now he loses: You're not allowed in the library for a week.

SY: What!

SQQ: The next words out of your mouth better be "yes Shizun, sorry Shizun" or it'll be two weeks.

SY: ...yes Shizun, sorry Shizun.

Meanwhile LBH and YQY are having a magical adventure in becoming a found family and are bonding over their obsessions with their respective Shens. They absolutely come visit QJ Peak at least twice a week much to SQQ's displeasure and SY's delight.

[partiallysame]

Hi! Love your Price's Lil Wife drabbles so much! I was wondering how birthdays (for the boys) are treated now that they have Price's Missus looking out for them? Also, how does one go about finding out Simon's birthday (lord knows that man won't willingly give that info up without severe puppy eyes)?

Johnny offhandedly said he’d want whatever meal you just made for his birthday next year and the giant exaggerated gasp that left you had all the men minus your husband ready to defend ready to jump into action but no need for any actual panic. “YOUR BIRTHDAY. WHEN IS YOUR BIRTHDAY?” Johnny told you and fuck you missed it. Kyle’s too. Big ol smile and head snapping over to Simon to ask him. Price was behind you shaking his head waving his hand in front of his neck trying to save Simon from answering the question. He wasn’t going to anyway but now he was curious as to why he shouldn’t (personalized and handmade triangular party hat that is mandatory to wear all day and too many pictures).

“Whens your birthday Simon?” Big ol smile on your face dropping when he says

“Don’t got one”

“Yes you do”

“No I don’t”

“Simon Riley” uh oh. “Tell me when your birthday is”. He let out a mhm mhm and you turned to your husband who held his hands up in defense. Ofc he wasn’t gonna help. Now your crossed arms in front of him trying to look mean. “Tell me.” He shook his head. Fine you’ll let it go for now (no you’re not) Gonna have to get creative.

Breakfast the next day you asked before handing him his plate. Making it seem like he wouldn’t get the food if he didn’t answer. He didn’t. You gave it to him anyway. “I’ll make your favorite for dinner if you tell me” “everything you make is my favorite” shut up Simon.

Now he’s sitting on the couch and you approach him with the prettiest saddest lil puppy dog eyes you could muster. Finger tracing his biceps. “Just wanna celebrate you Simon. Without your birthday you’d never have come into my life. Wanna make you feel special.” He almost broke. Your big eyes. Sweet voice. Gentle, teasing touch. He was so close to telling you. But he hesitated too long and you switched tactics hard and fast.

“Fine. But you made me do this Riley. Remember that” and suddenly you were calling for MacTavish who came strutting in the stupidest smile on his face holding a dark blue jersey. “From now on this is a Scotland house” you said putting on Johnny’s Scotland National football jersey. No no no. Simon began panicking watching Johnny put on a matching one. “On game days. This house will NOT be watching Manchester anymore.” Wait wait wait. “I’ll tell ya please” Simon’s reaching for you. Don’t do this. He’s begging but you’re not giving in. “It’s may 17th please lovie don’t go this far. Take it off.” He’s trying to pull the jersey off of you, fighting Johnny’s hands trying to keep it on you. Price walked in on the scene “dear god Lieutenant what did you do?” His wife wearing the wrong colors? Oh Riley’s gonna pay for this.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Just read your telling the LADS Men you're pregnant hcs and AAAA I loved it so muchhh. the boys r so silly. SOOO May I request LADS men when reader goes into labour when they're away? Sorry I just love chaos 🤭

The Baby is Coming!

Giving your lads man a call when you're going into labor while he's not with you. A/N: Hey nonnie I bet you thought I forgot about this request huh? I didn't sorry I took so long to finish it. Love you 🩵

Zayne

Calling Zaynes' office

Zayne: Dr. Zayne speaking Tara: It’s coming Zayne: What’s coming?

Fumbling noises from you snatching the phone from Tara

MC: Your big headed child Zayne my water just broke

Loud clattering noises on Zaynes' end

Zayne: I’m on my way home now MC: Tara is bringing me to the hospital just stay there Zayne: Right right … I'll report to labor and delivery MC: *groans in pain* Zayne: How bad is the pain MC: I’ll punch you in the nuts so you can experience it firsthand Zayne: I’ll let that one slide because I know it’s the contractions talking

Rafayel

MC: The twins are coming Rafayel: WHAT!? MC: YEA! Rafayel: They’re 3 weeks early MC: No shit sherlock *groans in pain* Rafayel: Tell them I said stop hurting mommy MC: Mommy is gonna curb stomp daddy if he isn’t here within the next 5 minutes Rafayel: Don’t worry your savior is on the way MC: You’re not funny hurry up Rafayel: Can’t you just cross your legs? MC: Nvm I’ll drive myself Rafayel: Okay okay I’m sorry I’m just freaking out MC: I have not one but two crotch goblins trying to rip me in half I need you to lock in or so help me God I will fry you up and serve you with a side of fries and extra tartar sauce you hear me? Rafayel: Yes ma’am

Xavier

Xavier: I have everything ready to read to your tummy tonight MC: You’ll be reading to our son instead Xavier: What do you mean? MC: My water broke while I was at Philos Xavier: Why are you there? MC: I was picking out the flowers I want in my hospital room *groans in pain* Xavier: I’m coming don't worry MC: You coming is what caused all of this but it's fine Jeremiah is driving me to the hospital now Xavier: ……does he drive better than me? MC: Xav please don’t piss me off right now……. Xavier: Right heading there now MC: Make sure you bring the baby bag Xavier: I have it ... unlike Jeremiah MC: NOT NOW!

Sylus

Sylus: I'm getting a distress call from Mephisto what's wrong? MC: The baby is coming Sylus: Is this another case of Braxton Hicks? MC: No its a case of amniotic fluid all over the damn kitchen floor Sylus: I'm on my way don’t move MC: *groaning in pain* I can barely do anything right now Sylus: Remember the breathing techniques MC: This is all your fault Sylus: I know Princess you can squeeze my hand as hard as you want MC: I’m gonna break it Sylus: Good luck with that MC: What did you just say? Sylus: I said I’m sure of that

Caleb

MC: Hey dumbass your big headed child is trying to tear me in two Caleb: Aww are they kicking too hard? MC: Caleb….. Caleb: Don’t tell me MC: Yes my water broke Caleb: Okay don’t worry I’m on my way stay on the phone with me MC: Gideon is already driving me to the hospital meet us there Caleb: ….. MC: You there? Caleb: Is he driving safe? MC: CALEB! Caleb: Right on my way! Uh real quick did you grab the baby bag? MC: Yes Caleb: Do you remember the breathing techniques? MC: Yes Caleb: Did you- MC: STOP WITH THE TWENTY ONE QUESTIONS BEFORE I HANG UP Caleb: Alright I'm done but just so you know you can scream at me all you want I don't mind MC: *Hangs up*

[readwritealldayallnight]

“I just can’t believe it Si…”

“I know, lovie. Me either.”

“They’re so perfect…” you mumble dreamily, only half aware that you’re still going on about the sight in front of you, an overjoyed smile stretched across your lips as you lean back against Simon’s strong, muscular chest. He has his arms wrapped around your middle, chin resting atop of your head as he also gazes down before you both. “I can’t believe we actually made them. We made these perfect little things…”

“Dunno about we, I think you’re givin’ me too much credit there.” He admits, adjusting to press a quick kiss into your hair, craning his head so that now his cheek is smushed against the crown of your head.

“Don’t sell yourself short mister,” You laugh, leaning your head back to try and catch his eye, reaching a hand up behind you to run your fingers through the hair at the base of his scalp, earning a satisfied hum in return, feeling the vibration of it going through his chest into you. “You definitely were a part of the process, Simon. Couldn’t exactly have planted those seeds myself.” You add with a wink.

“Oh I remember, love, I was there.” He chuckles as well, his eyes meeting yours, the overwhelming feeling of pure contentment radiating off you both, the love he has for you reflected back at him in your own shining gaze. “You that did all the hard work though. Growin’ ‘em til they were ready.”

“Yeah but they’re our babies, Si.” You insist, his grip tightening around you at yours words.

“That they are. That they are.” He agrees, glancing down at the baskets set before you.

A moment passes where you continue to hold onto one another, enjoying the bliss that is existing alongside each other, feeling the other breath, heart beats falling into rhythm, both simply appreciating the view in front of you. Though you can’t see him behind you, Simon’s smile is wavering, unsure how to pose his next question, not wanting to sound as though he’s making fun of you.

“We are going to use them at some point though, right?”

“Eventually.”

“M’not sure how long berries last, lovie. And Johnny’s countin’ on that pie we said we’d-”

“Simon,” you cut him off. “Johnny’s damn desert can wait. I’m admiring my children.” You decide, casting another glance towards the baskets full of fresh blueberries, strawberries and raspberries you’d spent so long growing, the very literal fruits of your labour, the first successful pickings from the garden you and Simon planted outside your new home.

“Oh, so they’re your children now, are they?” He teases.

“If you’re talking about eating them so soon then yes, I will take custody.” You joke right back.

“Why’re you so gorgeous when you’re bossy?”

“Probably a side effect of the military, my love.”

“Well maybe we can look at having me plant a different kind of seed soon, aye? Kind that takes about nine months to grow?”