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dyingswanpavlova · 3 days ago

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"Your girl" - Part 2 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: After he spontaneously abducted you, you try to figure out what his plans are for you. Is it to break your will? Your body? Or something else entirely?

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, violence, abuse, something I'd call mild torture, hinting at traumatic experiences, claustrophobic spaces, chains, degradation

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

The hunger wasn't the worst part.

No, you had learned to live with the hunger. You were your mother's daughter after all. You had a certain tolerance when it came to unpleasant living conditions.

No, what was far worse than the hunger was the darkness. You had no idea what time it was. Was it still night or had the sun risen already? Were the birds still asleep or were they happily chirping and announcing a new, beautiful day?

Surely it was beautiful to someone. It was someone's birthday. Someone's wedding day. Someone simply got to have a lazy morning and have brunch and coffee at noon.

Not you, though. You were still chained up, still hidden away in a dark closet. And you couldn't even tell if it was night or day.

Yesterday had been far worse though. The memory of it still made you flinch.

Instead of a dark closet, you had spent your day chained to the bed. So far, so good. Up until the point when he made you drink a whole water bottle, right before he chained you up. And then he left. Then he fucking left. You had heard the door shut behind him.

You really weren't a proud person and you had quickly come to realize that your situation required a certain...delicacy. So, you didn't mind when you had to beg. You didn't mind crying or yelling at all. That you just did, it came as naturally as the sun rises early and sets late. You had even agreed to say those damned, magical words.

"I'm your girl, please, I'm your girl!"

But no, silly. It was too late.

"I don't want that fucking, pitiful bullshit." He had spat out as he had tightened the chains around your wrists. "You will say it and you will mean it. Until then, we'll make do with what we have."

Which was exactly what had happened. He had forced the water down your throat and eventually you found yourself in, what he called, your bed. It hadn't been all too bad at first. Except for the obvious discomfort and the constant fear that nagged at you. But it got worse, the moment you felt the pressure in your bladder.

You normally had to use the bathroom about every two hours at the latest. Your urethra was quite tight - You knew that, because your mother had dragged you to a gynecologist as a teen. She had been furious, because you had to use the bathroom so often as a child. She had often snapped at you. Sometimes she even made you wait and told you, you had to wait a certain amount of time, before you could use it. It always ended the same way. You on your knees, begging and pleading with her to let you pee. You could have just let go and peed yourself. As already mentioned, you weren't too proud. But that was a sore spot. More than twenty-three years later and it still was a sore spot.

Your mother sat beside you in the doctor's office, affectionately stroking your hair.

After the doctor finished his speech about the tight urethra, he began a new speech about the way one of your kidneys seemed to be a little slow. It worked, yes. But you had to spend your life going careful around salt and peeing.

My poor darling, she had murmured. I knew there was a reason you had to go so often. My poor, darling girl.

It wasn't normally a problem. Until yesterday, when the sadistic bastard had tied you up and left you like that for nine...fucking...hours.

Your body still hurt terribly, just thinking about it.

You had been tempted to let go and make a mess of yourself. Who cared after all? It was his fucking bed, his fucking clothes, his-

But you couldn't. You just couldn't.

So you had laid on that bed, cried and writhed for hours on end. By the time he came back, he wore the most surprised expression, because he had obviously expected you to let go and pee yourself.

He found you with your eyes swollen and your face puffy, but the bed was dry.

"Such a good girl." He had murmured and tenderly caressed your cheek. "My good girl."

By the time he uncuffed you, you nearly broke both legs jumping up and rushing towards the door. But his low voice brought you back to reality.

"Stop."

You stood frozen, facing away from him.

And then the softest "Please" passed past your lips.

He had been tempted to refuse you, you could tell. He was cruel, sadistic and simply fucking crazy. But for some reason, he had sighed, the sound almost making you sob.

"Go."

And that you did. It had been so painful and so terribly degrading, but you had managed. You had truly managed.

By the time you came back to your bedroom, he still sat on the edge of the bed. Just like the night before - you had expected him to get physical. But instead he simply beckoned you to come closer and instructed you to sit down on the floor before him.

So far he hadn't gotten physical. At least one good thing, you thought. He hadn't ravished you. Yet. Hadn't even tried to kiss you. Nothing.

Hesitantly, you had approached him and sat down on the floor, your arms wrapped tightly around your legs. God, you finally felt like a human again.

"Who are you?" He had asked in that gentle, silken voice.

"Your girl." The words were an obvious mantra, easily repeated all day if so he demanded. But to your horror, he tsked again and shook his head.

He had leaned closer until your faces almost touched and whispered: "You still don't mean it."

Your heart clenched tightly and you whispered: "Please, I-"

But he interrupted you by simply holding up his hand. His fingertips ran down your cheek in a gentle manner and you almost found yourself leaning closer.

Almost.

What two days of hunger and one day of bladder pain could do to you.

"Get in the closet." He instructed firmly.

You swallowed thickly.

"Please." You whispered again. Your desperate tone wasn't for show, the crack in your voice wasn't to manipulate him. You were truly exhausted. But he simply shook his head.

"Don't make me say it again."

You closed your eyes in defeat and buried your face in your hands for a moment. Then you nodded and carefully got up. Everything was a little giddy and dizzy, since the pancakes had been the last thing you ate. But you didn't complain. You weren't that stupid.

You had just been stupid enough to take his hand.

And get in his car.

And his fucking apartment.

If you had struggled, sure, he might have gone crazy and shot you. But was that really that much worse than the prospect of spending the rest of your life like this?

You moved into the closet, a tiny room with hardly enough space for you to stretch out your legs. He made you sit down and then he cuffed you up again. Sitting down, not laying down.

All the while he was in there with you, making sure the cuffs stayed in place, you had stared up at his face with the most desperate expression in your eyes.

Once he finished with the cuffs, all he did was glance down at you, almost gently and smile.

"Be a good girl and let me sleep tonight. Don't scream and shout like you did all morning."

You swallowed again and you couldn't hide the soft tremble of your lips.

"I'm afraid of the dark." You whispered.

He tilted his head to the side, almost thoughtfully. Then he hummed. You had grown to hate that sound.

"I wasn't going to turn off the lights, but well. You may thank yourself. Good night, sweet girl."

"No! Please!"

And with that the lights went out and the door closed.

Click.

You couldn't tell if he slept in your room, to make sure you stayed where you were or if he went to the other side of the hallway and slept in his own room. Whatever it was, you couldn't tell because you didn't hear a thing. All you heard was the sound of your own heavy breathing and the way it got interrupted by a sob every now and then.

It had been a few hours. You really couldn't tell how many. And every time you were about to fall asleep, you flinched and your head shot back up, suddenly all too aware of where you were and what was going on.

Until eventually your exhaustion got the better of you and you fell asleep, your face buried against your knees.

It was a restless sleep, haunted by the memory of the man on the train lines.

But at least you hadn't dreamt of your mother ever since.

Some time later, you were woken up when you felt his hand press down on your shoulder. You flinched so hard, you immediately got a headache. He chuckled at the sight.

"Good morning, sweet girl. Did you sleep well?" He purred.

You were so exhausted and straight-up annoyed that you were tempted to ignore him or give a snarky remark. But you decided against it. Also, you felt lightheaded by how hungry you were, so you simply looked up at him with a soft, timid look.

"Awww." He smirked as he slowly uncuffed you. "I slept just wonderful. You did a good job, keeping your pretty little mouth shut."

He yanked you to your feet, causing you to stumble against him. He instantly wrapped his arms around you and ran his hands over your back. It would have come off as soothing and affectionate, if he wasn't such a twisted bastard. But again, you endured the touch.

It wasn't like you were touch-starved. Not at all. You had never been with a man before, not in that way. But you missed kindness. You missed someone smiling at you in the morning. And if it was only your boss, wishing you a productive day. You missed people.

"Are you ready for your water bottle?"

When he saw the horrified look on your face, he laughed heartily.

"I'm just playing, sweet girl. It's not funny twice."

He carefully led you out of the closet and through the apartment.

"Are you hungry?" He murmured as he gently pressed a hand against the small of your back.

You felt yourself nod. It was obviously some kind of trick, because you were certain by now that you would soon die of starvation and that that had been his plan all along. But you still nodded.

Eventually you reached the kitchen, where the smell of food immediately filled your nostrils. The table was filled with food - rice, vegetables, some meat and fruit. You nearly blacked out at the sight.

"Come. Sit."

He sat you down a few feet away from the table. Of course. A trick. He'd probably make you watch while he ate or something like that.

He sat down opposite you and looked at you for a long moment.

"I'll ask you a question. And you'll answer. Truthfully. No second chances. If you answer to my liking, you get to eat. If you mess it up, you get punished."

You simply stared at him. It wasn't a question, so you didn't answer. Also, after three days of not eating anything - were it truly three days? How long had you been in that godforsaken closet? - you didn't really care about anything else.

"Good." He said calmly. "Are you a virgin?"

That seemed to pique his interest the most, because he stared at you intently, not even smirking for once.

Immediately you felt your face flush in embarassment, but you felt yourself nod.

"Yes." You whispered.

He leaned back in his chair and hummed softly. "You're not lying to me, are you?"

You quickly shook your head.

"How old are you again?"

"Twenty-four." You whispered in the same, weak voice.

"Delicious." He purred. Then he reached over and grabbed a spoonful of rice. When he held it out to you, you choked it down like a rabid animal.

"Careful. You'll get sick." He said in a tone that resembled gentleness. By now you knew there was nothing gentle about him. Nothing good.

But you pushed the thought back, when he fed you another spoon of rice. Two questions, two bites.

"What is the reason you live and work in a country where you don't even speak the language or know the way back to your apartment?"

You swallowed. "I got a good job offer."

"Bullshit." He narrowed his eyes. "The real reason."

You considered lying. But you were sure, for some reason, he would find out.

"To get away from my family." You then whispered.

He sighed in an exaggerated manner and set the spoon aside.

"Too bad, sweet girl. You deceived me the first time. You know the rules. I need to punish you."

You closed your eyes, albeit briefly. It was like they had a mind of their own and you were so exhausted that you could hardly take any more of this.

"You're lucky though. You get to pick your punishment."

Your brows furrowed suspiciously and he smiled.

"No deceit, sweet girl. You get to pick between two options. I'll give you ten seconds each time. If you don't choose on time, I choose for you."

You buried your face in your hands, but eventually you nodded.

His words felt like a gunshot.

"I slap your face or I cut off your hair. Choose."

You froze.

Fuck.

Of course you knew which one you'd pick. You couldn't cut off your hair. For various reasons. First off, it was deeply rooted into your mind that you needed to keep your hair long and lush.

Or else who would ever marry you, honey? No, no. You don't get to cut it off. Not ever. You wouldn't want to disappoint mama, hm?

And then again...Your hair was one of the few things you truly liked about your appearance. You liked the color, the texture...You just enjoyed looking at it whenever you felt bad about yourself. You played with it whenever you were nervous. It was your hair.

When he shot you an impatient look, you suddenly remembered the rules.

Three...two...

"Slap." You gasped out.

He leaned back and his smile widened.

"Are you sure?"

You nodded quickly.

"Smart girl." He purred, almost seductively. "Brave girl."

He didn't give you any time or sign to brace yourself. Instead he simply reached out and slapped your face, with an intensity that made your breath hitch. Your head snapped to the side and you let out a pained moan.

The pain of the slap stung. But not half as much as it would have if you had to cut off your hair.

He hummed. Bastard.

"Very well. Next question."

He sized you up calmly.

"Why did you want to get away from your family?"

You closed your eyes. "Well, they...Well, they..."

"That doesn't count. Disqualified."

Uh-oh.

"You never explicitly specified I had to answer straight-up." You said quietly.

Very slowly he inched forward until his forehead nearly touched yours.

"Are you talking back to me?"

"No." You breathed out.

"Good." He smirked. "I punch your gut or I cut off your hair. Choose."

You had a very bad feeling, like you knew what this game was leading to. The nausea that took hold of you felt suffocating.

"Punch." You croaked out.

No one had ever punched you before. And you had a feeling today would bring many more firsts.

"Hold up your hands."

Reluctantly you obeyed. He looked into your eyes, looking for any sign of disobedience. But all he found was fear.

He tsked disapprovingly.

"Anyone with brains would have chosen the hair." He said lowly. "But you're a pretty girl. I like your long hair." He slowly treaded his fingertips through the length of your hair. "So, you better do us both a favor and answer in time from now on."

With that you felt a sharp blow of pain when his fist shot forward and punched you right in the stomach. He wasn't gentle about it.

You doubled over and nearly fell off the chair. At the same time you let out a desperate sob and gasped for air.

The only thing you could suddenly think about was your slow kidney. Oh God, what if he damaged the good one?

You tried to push these thoughts away as good as you could. It wasn't easy.

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. And he stared right back with something that looked almost like...pride.

"Why did you want to get away from your family?"

"Because my mother abused me." You gritted out.

Surprise flashed over his features. "How?"

"She starved me, didn't let me pee, hit me everywhere no one could see the scars, locked me in my room for days, yelled at me and many more things, many many more. Dark and twisted things, things you're never supposed to do to someone you supposedly care about. I bet you and her would have gotten along splendid." You couldn't tell who was more surprised about your sudden, angry outburst - you or him. He just stared at you and you half expected him to knock your teeth out.

Instead he slowly reached for the spoon and fed you two spoons rice with vegetables.

"Good girl." He said with no hint of teasing.

You savored the food in your mouth and swallowed slowly, ignoring his words. Mostly. But a part of you was almost relieved that he took so well to your anger.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I'm scared of intimacy."

"Do you regret it?"

"Yes."

"Good girl."

Three spoonfuls, as promised.

"When was the last time you touched yourself?"

Your face flushed instantly, but you forced yourself to answer.

"The day before we met."

One spoon.

"What were you thinking about?"

You felt yourself go pale.

"What?"

He sighed disapprovingly.

"When you touched yourself. What did you think about?" He asked impatiently.

And you were silent. For three seconds. Five. And finally ten.

He stared at you with an intensity that was terrifying.

"Play the rest of the game on your knees or I cut off your hair."

Your cheeks grew warm in shame. But immediately, you slid down to your knees infront of him. The floor was cold, but that was the smallest one of your concerns. You couldn't meet his gaze as you knelt there.

Slowly and almost tenderly he reached down and tilted your chin up. The intensity in his eyes was overwhelming. You couldn't quite detect or name the look in his eyes. All you knew was that it was intense and that it made your cheeks grow even warmer.

"Good girl." He whispered. "I'll ask you again."

At least he warned you.

"What were you thinking about while you touched yourself?"

"I fantasized."

"Specify."

You tried to avert your gaze but his grip on your chin was too tight. The expression in your eyes was pleading. But he didn't care. He didn't care one bit.

Suddenly you realized something. He didn't seem to care about the rules or the game any longer. He just wanted to know.

"I had..." Your eyes fluttered shut and your voice slipped into a barely audible whisper. "I had rough fantasies."

"Specify."

"Of being used." You finally choked out. The words felt like acid in your mouth. Never before had you told anyone about this, except for the one time when you spoke to your psychiatrist.

You had sobbed and nearly choked on your tears, claiming that you were twisted, odd, fucked in the head.

But all he had said in response was; many women have those fantasies. You're not twisted. You simply have desires which go ahead of the ordinary.

By the time you blinked your eyes open, you realized that he wasn't recoiling in disgust. He wasn't laughing at you. He didn't even flinch. He simply seemed curious.

"What else?"

"What...what else?"

"What else do you fantasize about that you consider shameful? Are your fantasies rough? Are they painful? Are they degrading? Are they-" He cut himself off and finally leaned back.

"You did good. Really good." He reached out and played with a strand of your hair. "You got lucky." He murmured. After a long sigh, he got up and said: "Eat up. But slowly. I can't have you puking all over yourself. I have plans for you."

You didn't need to be told twice. In a ridiculous speed you were back at the table and savored the food in your mouth, appreciating every bite.

He turned to leave the room, but stopped in the doorway and looked at you with a small frown.

"You got really lucky." He murmured to himself as he glanced at your form again.

"As did I."

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thesecondhandwoman · 22 hours ago

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can you make stubborn sick!reader and sevika? like reader getting sick because she is so overworked at her job and then sevika scolding her with love ofc, we just love soft and caring sevika 😭

SICK DAY

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: Recently you have been working yourself to the rim, and it had resulted in you becoming sick, making your girlfriend, Sevika, step in and force you to get better.

Request: Anon 🤍

Zaun never slept. The hum of machinery, the occasional shout from the streets below, and the flicker of neon lights painted the city in a constant state of chaos. It was the perfect backdrop for how you felt, burnt out, dizzy, and utterly drained.

You’d barely slept last night, tossing and turning in bed as your fever grew worse. By morning, nausea hit you like a punch to the stomach. You’d stumbled into the bathroom, cold sweat dripping down your temples, barely making it to the sink before your body betrayed you.

The retching sounds echoed through the apartment, and by the time you were done, your knees wobbled so badly you had to grip the counter to stay upright. You splashed cold water on your face, staring into the cracked mirror at your reflection. Dark circles framed your eyes, your skin pale and clammy.

But even then, your stubbornness wouldn’t let you give in. There was work to do. People were counting on you.

Dragging yourself into the living room, you grabbed your bag and threw on your coat, every movement sluggish and uncoordinated. You ignored the spinning in your head and the way your stomach churned at the thought of taking a single step outside.

Unfortunately for you, Sevika noticed.

“Babe,” her voice cut through the air, sharp and concerned. You froze mid-step, turning to find her leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed. “You look like hell.”

“I’m fine,” you croaked, wincing at how scratchy your voice sounded.

Her eyes narrowed, scanning you from head to toe. The worry in her expression was obvious, though it was paired with a healthy dose of frustration. “Bullshit.”

“I just need to—”

“You need to sit your ass down before you pass out,” she interrupted, stepping toward you with purpose. “Have you even looked in the mirror? You’re burning up, you can’t even stand straight, and don’t think I didn’t hear you puking your guts out this morning.”

Your face burned with embarrassment, though whether it was from the fever or her words, you weren’t sure. “I’m not that bad,” you muttered weakly, trying to sidestep her.

She moved faster. Her mechanical arm gripped your waist gently but firmly, stopping you in your tracks. The cool metal against your overheated skin made you shiver. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Sevika—”

“No.” Her voice was firm but not unkind. “You’re sick, and you’ve been running yourself into the ground for weeks. You think I don’t notice? Skipping meals, staying up late, barely talking to me because you’re glued to your work? Enough is enough.”

Your vision blurred slightly, your body swaying as the room spun around you. If it weren’t for Sevika’s steady grip, you might’ve crumpled to the floor right then and there. She sighed, muttering something under her breath before scooping you up into her arms.

“Sevika!” you protested weakly, though it sounded more like a whimper.

“Yeah, yeah, complain all you want,” she said, carrying you back to the bedroom. “You’re not winning this one, sweetheart.”

The next hour was a mix of soft scolding and reluctant care

After making sure you were tucked under the covers, Sevika disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a cool washcloth for your forehead and a glass of water. She didn’t say much at first, just sitting beside you, her presence a comforting weight.

“You’re gonna drink this,” she said, holding the glass of water out to you. “Slowly. And don’t even think about arguing.”

You groaned but obeyed, the cool liquid soothing your dry throat. “Happy?” you mumbled after finishing half the glass.

She smirked faintly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Getting there. But you’re not off the hook yet.”

The fever took a turn for the worse later that afternoon.

Your body ached, every muscle sore and heavy as if you’d been hit by one of Sevika’s punches. The nausea returned in waves, and the dizziness made it impossible to focus on anything. You drifted in and out of sleep, the world around you a hazy blur.

At some point, you must’ve started shivering, because you woke to find Sevika draping another blanket over you. Her brows were furrowed, her lips pressed into a tight line as she adjusted the covers, making sure you were snug and warm.

“Sevika,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“Shh,” she said, sitting down beside you. “Just rest.”

Her hand found yours beneath the blankets, her calloused fingers curling around yours. The gesture was simple but grounding, her presence a lifeline in your fevered haze.

“I hate being sick,” you mumbled, your voice thick with exhaustion.

“I know,” she said softly, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But you’re not alone. I’ve got you.”

A few hours later, the fever had broken slightly, though you were still far from recovered.

Sevika coaxed you into eating some soup, her patience unwavering even as you grumbled and complained. She sat close, her eyes never straying far from you, as if she was afraid you’d collapse again if she looked away.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you asked at one point, your tone teasing despite your hoarse voice.

She rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitched into a smirk. “Because I love you, dumbass. Someone’s gotta take care of you when you won’t take care of yourself.”

Her words hit you square in the chest, the warmth of her affection almost overwhelming. You leaned into her, resting your head against her shoulder, and for the first time all day, you felt truly at ease.

“Thanks, Sev,” you murmured, your eyes drifting closed.

“Always, babe,” she replied, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Now get some sleep. I’m not letting you out of this bed until you’re back to 100%.”

The following days were a blur of recovery, Sevika’s care unwavering throughout.

She brought you meals, made sure you stayed hydrated, and even stayed home from her own work to keep an eye on you. Her gruff demeanor softened considerably, though she still teased you relentlessly about your stubbornness.

By the time you were feeling well enough to sit up and joke with her, you couldn’t help but smile at how much effort she’d put into taking care of you.

“See? Told you I’d survive,” you said playfully, leaning against her shoulder.

“Barely,” she replied, smirking. “Next time you decide to work yourself sick, I’m tying you to the bed.”

“Promises, promises,” you teased, earning a snort of laughter from her as she shook her head, just glad she had her healthy version of you back

A/N: This one seems a bit too repetitive to me, but I hope it was okay either way.

#Sevika x reader #Sevika x you #Sevika fanfic #Sevika #Sevika arcane #arcane sevika #arcane fanfic #arcane #lesbian fanfic #lesbian #fluffy fanfic #fluff #sick fanfic #sick #comfort fanfic #comfort #fanfic #fanfic writing

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ace-sailor-uranus · 1 day ago

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A citrus zester works fantastically for shredding denim. (Fabric in general but holy *shit* does it work on denim lol)

Add ribbons. Safety pins. Useless zippers.

If you already have craft paint, get fabric paint medium and make your own fabric paint, and add paint.

Add thread. Embroidery thread, sewing thread, quilting thread, upholstery thread. Thrifted thread, new thread, inherited thread.

Add buttons, add sequins, add beads, add patches, add charms. I mean, *fuck*, MAKE beads, MAKE patches, MAKE charms.

Shred your clothes, cut your clothes, dye your clothes, add lace, add ribbons, add string, add yarn, add layers. Do the weird bullshit you weren't allowed to growing up. Put eyelets or grommets in and tie shit together. Add a hammer to your sewing kit, it's great.

T-shirt doesn't fit anymore? Cut the sides out, add some string, lace it back together. Or add a panel. Or some safety pins. Collar too tight? Cut a v. Sleeves too tight? Cut em off.

Jeans too tight? Cut down the side seam, add a panel. Too loose? Ladder stitch dart. Hole in the ass? Idk, use em for patches.

Who cares. WHO CARES. Use the clothes you ALREADY HAVE to make the style you WANT to have.

it doesn't have to be fancy. just do.

You can find anything on the Internet nowadays, man.

Why aren't you?

you can't be punk and get your shit from temu

#visible mending #this went longer than i meant

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bblairxe · 2 days ago

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Can I request a rough dom reader x sub jinx, where Jinx is riding our strap and we can see the bugle from her stomach. She tries to get off the strap but we wouldn’t let her. Like degrading and stuff. THANK YOUU

i saw ur previous request, i just didn’t know how to start it 😭

৻ꪆ content warnings : dom! reader , sub! jinx , rough sex , slight overstim , degradation , mean! reader , strap referred to as ‘cock’ and ‘dick’ , jinx receiving that shlong , hand pinning , begging

৻ꪆ word count : 500+

blair dropping two requests in one day ?! ( someone kill me )

jinx’s mouth always finds a way to get herself in trouble. whether that be with enforcers, vander, or just random people who pissed her off. but tonight, she was in a lot of trouble, with you in particular.

the sound of skin slapping fills the room, your long, thick strap assaulting her cunt over and over again. “when i tell you to do something, jinx. you fuckin’ do it. no talking back, none of that bullshit.” you growl in her ear, your voice was low and dark, absolutely fed up with her defiance.

her head lolls back into the pillow, eyes rolling to the back of her head. she was an absolute mess, your strap hitting that spot inside of her perfectly with each thrust. she wanted to do something, push your buttons to the point you might explode if another bratty remark left her lips. yet she couldn’t do anything but lay there and moan out cries of your name.

“can’t speak now, hm? cock got you going dumb?” you coo with faux sympathy, raising your hand to leave a sharp smack on her tits. a raw moan escaping her throat, arching her back towards the ceiling.

“m’sorry, i’m s-sorry, please,” jinx chokes out, her words barely audible from the cracks in her voice. she brings her hand up to your stomach, attempting to slow down your unforgiving pace. you let out a breathless laugh and grab both of her wrists in one hand, and firmly rest them above her head.

“real cute baby, but sorry isn’t gonna cut it. not after that shit you pulled.” you use your freehand to push her legs up to her chest, drilling into her. your thrusts grow deeper, more deliberate, until you notice the faint bulge from your strap in her lower stomach.

“look at that,” you release your grip from jinx’s wrist to push against the bulge. her breath catches in her throat, her eyes fluttering shut. “you’re so fucking small i can see my cock right there, feel that?”

her cheeks flush a deep crimson red, her body writhing underneath you. you could tell she regrets pushing your buttons, and that’s exactly what you wanted. your hand stays firm on her lower stomach, applying just enough pressure to make her whine and feel every inch of you. “what’s wrong, can’t handle it? you wanted to act all tough earlier, didn’t you?”

jinx lips quivers, her legs tremble around your around back. clawing weakly at the sheets to search for some kind of support. “p-please, i can’t—“ she gasps, tears welling in her dazed eyes.

“can’t what? take your punishment like the slut you are?” you sneer, driving your hips harder into her, drawing another broken cry from her lips. “you’re gonna cum all over this dick, aren’t you? go ahead, make a mess of yourself, jus’ gonna make you clean it up anyway.”

with a few more thrusts, her release floods out of her, coating the strap and sheets in her cum. her cunt clenches around your strap, but you don’t let up — not yet.

“mmh, what’s wrong? too much for you?” you coo mockingly, gripping her chin with your index and thumb. her whimpers turn into sobs, becoming completely overstimulated as you fuck her harshly through her orgasm.

“don’t tell me you’re done already,” you purr, leaning down to press your lips to her ear. “we’re not stopping til i say so.”

#jinx arcane #jinx arcane smut #jinx smut #jinx league of legends #jinx x reader #jinx lol #lesbian #arcane smut #arcane

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pbaz7 · 2 days ago

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ONE SHOT: WHAT YOU HEARD

paige x azzi

warning: drinking, sexual content, cheating

word count: 13k

A/N: Someone asked me to do a one shot based on Sonder What You Heard so this is my attempt at that. It was a little hard but I tried my best. This is also for all the whores who wanted a “bonus” scene from against the tide. It’s not post library but it’s something! Lmk what you think and leave live reacts 🫶🏼

—————————————————————————

The locker room was nearly silent, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the space as Paige pushed the door open. She had just finished talking to Geno after practice, her mind still half in the conversation. But when her eyes landed on Azzi, sitting alone on the bench, her brow furrowed and her phone resting limply in her hand, she paused mid-step.

“What’s wrong Az?” Paige asked, her voice softer than usual.

Azzi didn’t look up immediately. Instead, she pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Nothing,” she muttered under her breath, but even that word cracked with doubt.

Paige leaned against the row of lockers, crossing her arms as a scoff escaped her lips. “Bullshit,” she said bluntly. Her eyes darted to the phone in Azzi’s hand. “He still hasn’t texted you back, has he?”

Azzi hesitated, her face tightening before she sighed. “He’s busy. You know how he is.”

“Busy my ass, Azzi,” Paige said, the irritation in her tone clear. “He’s on the football team, and they’re not even that good.”

Azzi’s head shot up, a glare in her eyes. “You just don’t like him,” she shot back defensively.

Paige didn’t flinch, didn’t even pretend to deny it. Instead, her expression stayed the same, and she shrugged. “You’re right I don’t like him. I sure as hell don’t respect him. He’s a bitch.”

Azzi let out a low groan, running a hand down her face. “Paige…”

“What?” Paige asked, pushing off the lockers and taking a step closer. “You don’t need me to tell you this again. You know it already. He treats you like a backup plan. Like you’re the one waiting in line for him to decide if he’s got time for you.” Her voice softened, but her frustration didn’t fade. “And that’s not who you are, Azzi.”

Azzi glanced at her phone again, her thumb hovering over the screen like she was willing a message to appear. “It’s not like that,” she muttered.

“Isn’t it?” Paige said. Her voice dropped, taking on an edge of exasperation. “Look, I’m not saying this because I want to hurt you when you’re already upset Az. I’m saying it because watching you settle for this shit—this dude who doesn’t even realize what he’s got—it drives me insane.”

Azzi’s hand clenched around her phone, but her gaze finally met Paige’s. There was a flicker of doubt there, a crack in the armor she always tried to keep up. “You don’t get it,” she whispered.

“No, Azzi,” Paige said, stepping closer now, her tone softer but no less certain. “I get it more than you do. I get that you’re in the wrong hands. That he doesn’t see you, not the way you deserve to be seen. And I don’t get how you don’t see it yet.”

Azzi opened her mouth to speak but hesitated, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard. Paige tilted her head, her voice dropping into something almost tender. “You think this is normal? Waiting around for some guy who only shows up when it’s convenient for him? You don’t have to put up with that. You’re so much more than that.”

Azzi finally set her phone down on the bench beside her, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. She sighed deeply, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not that easy, Paige.”

Paige crouched down in front of her, catching Azzi’s gaze. “I never said it would be easy,” she said quietly. “But I promise you—he’s not worth this.”

There was a heavy silence between them, and in that moment, Paige’s thoughts were louder than her words. But instead of saying anything, she just held Azzi’s gaze, hoping the truth in her eyes was enough to make Azzi finally listen to her.

Azzi’s phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a notification. She didn’t reach for it right away, her gaze flicking between Paige and the phone. Her fingers twitched like she was torn between two choices.

Finally, she spoke. “Why do you care so much?”

Paige let out a breathy laugh, one that sounded almost pained. “Why wouldn’t I pretty girl? I’m your best friend” she said as her eyes softened.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small, tired smile, the tension in her face easing just slightly. “I love you,” she said, her tone light and easy, like she had said it a thousand times before. But the way she said it—it wasn’t what Paige wanted to hear. It wasn’t the kind of love Paige wished for, the kind that had been eating away at her for months now.

Paige swallowed hard, forcing herself to return the sentiment in kind. “I love you too,” she said, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest.

Azzi’s phone buzzed again, the sound cutting through the stillness of the locker room. This time, she glanced down at it, her thumb swiping across the screen. Whatever she saw on the display made her lips press into a tight line, her brows furrowing all over again.

Paige didn’t say a word. She just shook her head with a sigh. Turning away, she walked to her locker, her movements a little sharp but still measured, betraying none of the emotions churning beneath the surface.

The air in the room grew heavy again, but Paige didn’t look back. She didn’t trust herself to, not with the lump rising in her throat and the bitter taste of unspoken words lingering on her tongue.

…

Azzi’s legs rested comfortably across Paige’s lap as she leaned back against the headboard, scrolling through her phone. Paige sat against the wall, her notebook balanced on her thighs, though the words on the page had long since blurred into the background. Azzi held Paige’s right hand, her thumb lazily brushing over the back of it as if the touch was second nature.

Paige’s eyes flicked to their hands, a sly smile pulling at her lips. She tilted her head back against the wall, breaking the silence with a low, teasing tone. “You know, if you keep holding my hand like this, I might start thinking you’re trying to tell me something.”

Azzi glanced up, a soft laugh escaping her. “Oh, please. You’re the one who hasn’t let go.”

Paige smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Right. I’m sure I’m the clingy one here,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Her gaze dropped to Azzi’s fingers still idly tracing patterns on her hand. “But hey, if this is your silent way of saying you like me better than the midget, I’m not gonna argue.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re so full of yourself.”

Paige shrugged, her free hand brushing lightly over Azzi’s thigh. “Maybe. But let’s be honest—you don’t let him do this, do you?” She tilted her head, her voice taking on an edge. “I mean, does he even know how to touch you like this?”

Azzi froze for a moment, her eyes darting to Paige’s face. “Paige…” she started, but her voice wavered, and Paige didn’t miss it.

Paige leaned in a little more, her smirk softening into something more deliberate. “What? Just saying. If he knew how to make you feel the way you deserve…” She paused, her voice dipping. “You wouldn’t be sitting here with me, holding my hand like it’s the only thing keeping you together.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her grip on Paige’s hand tightening slightly, though she didn’t respond. Paige could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes, the way her lips parted as if to argue but no words came out.

Paige’s heart raced, the heat in the room thickening as she decided to push just a little further. “You don’t have to say it out loud, Az,” she murmured, her tone quiet. “But deep down, you know. He could never—” Paige hesitated for just a beat, the words of the song she’d listen too all too much lately m echoing in her mind before she continued talking. Let me unleash my demons on you.

Azzi’s breath hitched, her phone slipping slightly in her hand as Paige’s meaning settled over her. She blinked, her gaze locked on Paige, curiosity and something deeper sparking in her eyes. “Paige…” she said again, softer this time, almost uncertain but it was the only word she could muster.

“What?” Paige asked, her voice softening as well but still laced with the same teasing edge. “You deserve someone who knows how to make you feel good. Someone who actually puts you first.” She leaned back against the wall, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s. “I mean, you keep waiting around for him, hoping he’ll figure it out, but… what if you’re wasting your time?”

Azzi looked down at their hands, her thumb still brushing against Paige’s knuckles, though the motion was slower now. She didn’t pull away. If anything, she seemed frozen, caught between denial and the weight of Paige’s words.

Paige’s smirk returned, softer this time but no less confident. “All I’m saying is, if you ever want to find out what it’s like to be with someone who actually knows what they’re doing…” Her voice dropped lower, her words hanging in the charged air between them. “You know where to find me.”

Azzi’s lips parted to respond, but a knock at her door cut through the charged air. She let out a small sigh of relief, leaning her head back against the headboard. “Come in!” she called out.

The door opened to reveal her boyfriend, Cam, who strolled in with a casual air. Azzi gave him a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey,” she said softly, shifting slightly but not moving her legs from Paige’s lap.

Cam walked over and leaned down, giving Azzi a half-hug, his arm awkwardly draped around her shoulders. She barely moved, still holding Paige’s hand as she scrolled her thumb idly across her screen. Cam straightened, finally acknowledging Paige with a nod. “Wassup, Paige?” He put out his hand for a quick dap.

Paige barely glanced up from her notes, tilting her head up at him in acknowledgment but making no move to reciprocate the gesture. The air in the room thickened with unspoken tension, and Cam, clearly picking up on it, lowered his hand, chuckling awkwardly.

Paige had never been subtle about her disdain for him, and her icy reaction was no surprise to anyone in the room.

Trying to lighten the mood, Cam looked at their interlocked hands and cracked a grin. “Damn, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to steal my girl man.”

Paige’s head finally lifted, and a slow, dangerous smile spread across her lips. “If I wanted your girlfriend,” she said evenly, her voice dripping with confidence, “I would have her.”

Azzi’s eyes widened slightly, the heat rising up her neck. Her fingers instinctively tightened around Paige’s, though she quickly let go, tucking her hand into her lap.

Cam blinked, caught off guard by the boldness of her statement, his expression twisting into a mix of confusion and irritation. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, looking down at Azzi as if expecting her to defend him.

But before Azzi could say anything, Paige was already standing, sliding Azzi’s legs off her lap with an ease that felt almost dismissive. “Relax, Cameron it’s a joke,” Paige said, tapping his shoulder a little harshly, her smirk still firmly in place. She grabbed her notebook and bag, walking over to the other side of the bed.

She leaned down to hug Azzi, the embrace feeling much more intimate than it should have. Paige’s lips brushed dangerously close to Azzi’s neck as she whispered, her voice low, “I’ll catch you later, Az.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her body betraying her as her breath hitched slightly. Paige pulled back, straightening up and slinging her bag over her shoulder. She turned toward the door, throwing one last glance at Cam, her smile lingering like a challenge.

“Bye, P,” Azzi murmured, her voice soft and uncertain.

“Later pretty girl,” Paige replied smoothly, not sparing Cam another glance as she walked out the door.

The room fell into an awkward silence, Cam still staring at the door as if trying to process what had just happened. Azzi shifted uncomfortably, her gaze fixed on the bed as she absentmindedly rubbed the back of her neck, the ghost of Paige’s closeness still lingering.

Cam turned back to her, his tone sharp. “What the hell was that?”

Azzi blinked up at him, her voice calm but slightly irritated from their argument earlier. “What was what?”

Cam’s jaw tightened as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Azzi, don’t be stupid,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing. “She basically just said she could take you from me. You’re just gonna sit there like that didn’t happen?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, leaning back against the headboard with an exasperated sigh. “She was just messing with you, Cam. Relax.”

“Messing with me?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “You call that messing around? That wasn’t a joke. You two were—” He gestured toward where her legs had been draped over Paige’s lap. “That’s not normal, Azzi!”

Azzi sat up straighter, her irritation now matching his. “What do you mean it’s not normal? She’s my best friend. We’ve always been close like that.”

Cam scoffed, his disbelief evident. “Close? That wasn’t close. That was…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Look, I’m not stupid. There’s something weird about the way she looks at you, the way she acts around you.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes, her tone sharp. “You’re reading into things that aren’t there because you do shit you shouldn’t be doing.”

Cam let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “So you’re telling me she wouldn’t fuck you if you gave her the chance?”

The question surprised Azzi, and she froze for a split second, her body betraying her with a slight twitch of her fingers. Her mind betrayed her even more.

She shouldn’t have thought about it—she really shouldn’t have. But suddenly, Paige’s words from earlier echoed in her head, her low voice taunting Cam with that annoying ass confidence: If I wanted your girlfriend, I would have her.

A flash of memory followed. The way Paige’s lips hovered just a little too close to her neck when they hugged, the way her eyes lingered on Azzi’s mouth when she teased her about Cam. Let me unleash my demons on you. The words Paige had sung before played over in her mind, sending an involuntary shiver through her.

Azzi shook the thought off almost as quickly as it came, her chest tightening as she forced herself to look back at Cam. She smoothed her expression, keeping her tone flat. “She doesn’t want to fuck me, Cameron.”

Cam gave her a skeptical look, his jaw tightening. “You sure about that? Because from where I’m standing, it’s pretty damn obvious.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her grip tightening on the hem of her sweatshirt. “I’m sure,” she said firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

But as Cam stood there staring her down, Azzi couldn’t ignore the heat rising to her neck, the way her heart thudded just a little too loudly in her chest. Because the truth—the one she’d never admit out loud—was that Paige absolutely would, and Azzi couldn’t help but wonder for the briefest of moments what it might feel like if she let her.

…

Paige’s dorm room was dimly lit, the golden glow of her desk lamp casting a warm haze over the space. Azzi sat cross-legged on Paige’s bed, her fingers absently picking at a loose thread on her hoodie. Paige, seated at her desk, glanced up from her notes to steal a glance at Azzi, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since walking in.

“Alright, spit it out,” Paige said, setting her pen down and leaning back in her chair. “You’ve been sitting there for twenty minutes looking like someone just canceled Christmas. What happened?”

Azzi let out a sigh, shaking her head. “It’s nothing.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Don’t give me that this time Az. What he said he was too busy to talk, or he forgot something important again?

Azzi sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “It’s not always about him.”

“Yeah? Because nine times out of ten when you come in here lookin like that, it’s about him.”

Azzi stayed quiet, which was answer enough.

Paige let out a laugh, shaking her head as she spun her chair to face Azzi fully. “Rightt. Because he’s such a busy guy. Averaging 100 claps at practice right?”

“Stop,” Azzi said, her tone defensive, though there was no real anger behind it. “You don’t have to keep tearing him down.”

Paige shrugged, unbothered. “I wouldn’t have to if he gave me a reason to respect him.” She stood, crossing the small room in a few steps and leaning against the edge of her dresser. “But let’s be real, Az. You deserve better. And I don’t mean just slightly better—I mean way better.”

Azzi looked up at her, her eyes searching Paige’s face. “Like who? You?”

Paige’s smirk was immediate, her confidence unwavering. “Yeah. Me.”

Azzi laughed softly, but there was a hint of nervousness in the sound. “You’re unbelievable.”

Paige tilted her head, her eyes glinting with something. “Am I? Or am I just saying what I know you’ve already been thinking?”

Azzi’s lips parted, but no words came out. Paige took a step closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, her knee brushing against Azzi’s leg.

“Let’s be honest, Azzi,” Paige said, her voice dropping to a low, velvety tone. “He doesn’t see you. Not the way I do. He doesn’t know how to handle someone like you, with a life like yours, how to make you feel like the only person in the room.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her fingers tightening on the fabric of her hoodie. “Paige—”

“I’m just saying,” Paige continued, leaning in slightly, her lips curving into a smirk. “If it were me, you wouldn’t have to ask for anything. You wouldn’t have to wonder if you mattered. I’d make sure you knew—every second of every day.”

Azzi’s breath hitched as Paige’s gaze dropped briefly to her lips before meeting her eyes again. The air in the room felt heavier, charged with something Azzi couldn’t just brush off.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Azzi whispered, though her voice lacked conviction.

Paige’s smirk softened, but her intensity didn’t waver. She leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper now. “I know exactly what I’m saying. You’re just in denial. I know he doesn’t touch you the way you deserve to be touched. Make you feel the way you deserve to feel. You’ve complained about it.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her breath hitching as she sat there at a loss of words.

“I’m serious,” Paige continue. “You haven’t thought about it? Even for a second? What it would be like if it were me instead of him?”

Azzi’s lips parted, and Paige caught the way her breath quickened ever so slightly. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” Azzi said, though the warning in her voice was faint at best.

Paige smirked, her confidence only growing. “Am I? Or are you just afraid of what I’m saying? What it means?” She tilted her head, her eyes glinting with mischief. “You want me to stop, tell me. But if you don’t, maybe it’s because part of you knows I’m right.”

Azzi’s heart was racing, her mind spinning. Paige’s words hung in the air, heavy and charged, pulling her in like a magnet.

Paige shifted closer, her voice dropping impossibly lower as she murmured, “I promise you I could make you forget he even exists, Az.”

Azzi’s breath hitched again, heat crawling up her neck. Paige’s gaze was locked on hers, unwavering, and for a split second, Azzi let herself imagine it—Paige’s hands on her skin, her lips tracing lines down her neck.

Her fingers tightened on the edge of the bed as Paige leaned in even closer, their faces just inches apart now. Paige’s voice was barely above a whisper, her breath brushing against Azzi’s lips. “You wouldn’t have to wonder if you mattered. I’d show you. Over, and over again.”

Azzi’s mind screamed at her to say something, to move, but she was frozen in place, her heart thundering in her chest.

The tension in the room was suffocating, the air thick with everything still unsaid by Azzi. Paige’s lips twitched into a smirk as she finally pulled back slightly, her voice carrying a teasing edge. “But hey, if you’re happy with him…” She let the words hang, leaving them unfinished, loaded with implication.

Azzi blinked, her throat dry as she whispered, “You’re out of your mind.”

Paige chuckled, not saying anything, just standing and grabbing her water bottle off the nightstand.

Azzi stared at her, her thoughts a tangled mess as Paige casually went back to her desk, acting like she hadn’t just turned Azzi’s world upside down.

…

The lively buzz of voices and clinking glasses at Ted's couldn't drown out the thoughts swirling around in Azzi’s head. They were all there in celebration of their Big East championship win, but all Azzi could focus on was Paige.

Azzi had been feeling a little off tonight, even though she tried to push the thoughts aside. Another game, another promise from Cam about being there, and once again, he hadn't shown. His absence barely gnawed at her, and she definitely wasn’t about to let it ruin her night—not when they were here celebrating.

Azzi’s gaze kept drifting to her. Paige was leaning against the bar, a drink in hand, her effortless confidence on full display. Two girls stood in front of her, talking animatedly, their hands gesturing as they laughed. Paige flashed them her signature smile, nodding along to whatever they were saying, though she didn’t seem particularly invested.

Azzi knew that smile too well. It was the same one Paige gave when she was humoring someone—not because she cared, but because she knew they liked the attention and it entertained her for a little bit. The thought made Azzi’s chest tighten, though she quickly brushed it off.

Before she could stop herself, she leaned toward Nika, who had just slid into the seat next to her. “Which one do you think she’s going to take home?” Azzi asked, nodding toward Paige and the girls.

Nika followed her gaze, then snorted. “Girl neither.”

Azzi blinked, surprised. “What do you mean, neither?

Nika turned her head, raising an eyebrow. “Paige has a type and it’s definitely not them.”

Azzi frowned, laughing a little. “Paige doesn’t really have a type. She kinda just... goes with the flow.”

Nika gave her a look. “You’re joking, right? Paige 1000% has a type.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Okay, what’s her type then?”

Nika gave Azzi a pointed look, leaning in a little closer. “Think about the last girl she brought back... or the two before that.”

Azzi stopped, her mind automatically working to pull up the memories. Paige never talked much about the girls she brought back, but Azzi had seen them. The thought lingered in her mind like a puzzle, the pieces slowly clicking together.

She could picture them now—the girls who had all been... similar. The way they had looked, the way they attempted to carry themselves—it was like there was a pattern. And now that Nika had pointed it out, Azzi couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t just a coincidence.

She felt a knot form in her stomach, realizing that most of the girls Paige had been with recently looked... well, a lot like her.

Nika smirked, clearly enjoying Azzi’s reaction. “See what I mean?”

Azzi forced herself to laugh, though it sounded more nervous than amused. “So, you’re saying Paige has a type after all?”

Nika shrugged, her expression unreadable. “It’s not about type. It’s more so about what she wants.”

Azzi’s heart skipped a beat, and she looked away, pretending to focus on something else. But the truth of Nika’s words lingered in her mind. Paige wasn’t just a flirty, carefree teammate. She was the one who made Azzi’s pulse race every time their eyes met. The one who made her question everything, including her feelings for Cam almost every other day.

She couldn’t stop herself from thinking it—what would it be like if it were me instead of them?

Nika, still watching her, smirked knowingly. “Look, if you want my advice, stop pretending. It’s obvious. You two have chemistry. You’ve got something that the midget could never give you.”

Azzi felt her stomach tighten at the thought of it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice a little too sharp, but Nika wasn’t fooled.

Nika just shook her head. “Sure you don’t.”

The next few minutes passed in silence, Azzi trying to push those thoughts away, but they kept coming back. She couldn’t help it. The more she thought about Paige, the more she realized Nika was right.

Azzi risked another glance at Paige, who was still chatting with the girls at the bar. Paige caught her eye, a teasing smile forming that made Azzi’s heart stutter. Then, as if to drive the point home, Paige winked before turning her attention back to the girls in front of her.

Azzi’s face burned, and she immediately looked away, gripping her drink tighter than necessary.

As the night wore on, Nika’s observation proved true. Not long after their conversation, Paige casually excused herself from the girls she’d been chatting with and made her way back to the team’s table. She slid into the spot next to Azzi, her presence an unspoken reassurance that made Azzi’s chest feel lighter.

The bar was louder now, filled with the boisterous laughter and slurred voices of their teammates taking full advantage of the open bar. Azzi, feeling the warmth of a few drinks in her system, leaned her head against Paige’s shoulder as she sat there silently. She didn’t think much of it—it was comfortable, and no one else seemed to notice or care.

Paige, though, seemed to notice. She tilted her head, resting it gently on top of Azzi’s. Her voice was soft, laced with curiosity and something else Azzi couldn’t quite place. “What’re you thinking about?”

Azzi hesitated, her fingers idly tracing the condensation on her glass. She wasn’t sure if her response slipped out because she was tipsy, tired, or just tired of pretending. “You.”

Paige raised her eyebrows at that, letting out a short puff of air through her nose, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Me?” she echoed, her tone playful but intrigued.

Azzi’s voice was quiet but steady this time. “You.”

The air between them shifted, the background noise of the bar fading into static. Paige stayed where she was, her head still resting on Azzi’s. Her lips quirked up in the corner, but her voice was softer now, less teasing. “What about me?”

Azzi’s chest tightened, her fingers instinctively finding Paige’s hand, beginning to play with her fingers as she looked down at them. Her words were almost a whisper, like she was afraid to say them too loud. “I’m not telling you.”

Paige laughed. “Why not?”

Azzi didn’t answer right away, her thumb brushing over Paige’s knuckles. She felt Paige shift slightly, her head tilting just enough for her lips to hover near Azzi’s ear.

“You sure you don’t want to tell me?” Paige murmured, her voice carrying an edge of something that made Azzi’s stomach flip.

Azzi swallowed hard, her grip tightening on Paige’s hand. “Positive.”

Paige chuckled again. “You’re a bad liar, Azzi.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, her heart pounding as she felt the heat of Paige’s breath against her skin. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the bar didn’t exist, like it was just the two of them, caught in this moment.

Azzi finally pulled back, just enough to meet Paige’s eyes. “Maybe,” she said, her voice just as soft but with a hint of defiance.

Paige smirked, her gaze dropping to Azzi’s lips for a brief second before flicking back up to her eyes. “Let me know when you’re ready to stop lying,” she said, her tone light but her eyes reflected something much heavier.

Paige stood up smoothly, her fingers brushing lightly over Azzi’s arm as she passed by. “I’ll be back,” she said casually.

Azzi watched her go, her gaze trailing Paige as she made her way back to the bar. Paige leaned against it like she owned the place, her posture effortless yet commanding, the kind of confidence that demanded attention without even trying. She had this way of carrying herself—loose, assured, magnetic. It wasn’t just the way she looked; it was the way she knew she looked, the way her presence seemed to pull focus without her having to lift a finger.

Azzi’s drink sat untouched in her hand, the cool condensation on the glass doing nothing to temper the sudden heat rushing through her. Her eyes lingered on Paige’s back, tracing the line of her shoulders down to the curve of her waist. Damn, she thought, her breath catching for reasons she didn’t want to admit.

The lyrics of the song playing overhead drifted into her consciousness, wrapping around her like the smoke hanging in the air. “Don’t tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts...” The words sank in, her mind betraying her as it painted a vivid picture of what that might mean with Paige.

It wasn’t the first time she’d wondered. Paige had always had this aura about her, a quiet intensity that felt equal parts dangerous and inviting. Azzi had caught herself thinking about it before—what it might be like to have Paige’s focus solely on her, to be on the receiving end of her. But tonight, something about the combination of liquor and the way Paige had been looking at her—smirking like she already knew every thought in Azzi’s head—made it impossible to shake.

She bit her lip, her gaze locked on the way Paige leaned forward to order another drink, her body language casual but so self-assured. Azzi swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as she realized just how vivid her thoughts had become.

She’d be so fucking good in bed. The thought came unbidden but settled deep within her. Azzi closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. Was it the alcohol? The fact that she hadn’t been touched in so long, hadn’t felt wanted in ways that mattered? Maybe it was both. Or maybe it was something else entirely—something about Paige that felt dangerously exciting yet safe at the same time.

Azzi’s mind filled with images she shouldn’t be entertaining—images of what it might be like to let Paige do whatever she wanted, to let her hands and lips erase everything else, to lose herself completely in whatever Paige had to offer.

Azzi shook her head, tearing her eyes away from the bar as if it would stop the thoughts swirling in her head. But even as she looked down at the table, she couldn’t shake the heat coursing through her stomach.

Her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand as she took a long sip, hoping the burn of the liquor would distract her. But it didn’t. Instead, her eyes betrayed her once again, lifting to find Paige just as she turned back to glance at Azzi over her shoulder.

Paige smiled softly at Azzi, her gaze lingering for a second longer than necessary before she turned back to the bartender. Azzi’s chest tightened, a mixture of frustration and longing clawing its way through her.

She exhaled slowly, willing herself to get a grip. But deep down, she knew it was too late. Paige had gotten into her head, and for the first time, Azzi wasn’t sure if she wanted her out.

…

The booth was quieter now, the buzz of the bar fading into the background as the team’s conversations grew softer. Azzi and Paige leaned against the cushioned seat, their heads tilted toward one another. The dim lighting seemed to wrap around them, isolating them in their little corner despite the crowd still lingering around the bar.

Paige shifted slightly, her shoulder brushing against Azzi’s. “So,” Paige said, her voice low and playful. “What’s running through that mysterious little head of yours?”

Azzi glanced at her, her lips curving into a smirk. “Mysterious, huh? That’s what you think of me?”

Paige’s smile widened, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Sure. You’re like… one of those locked diary types. Tryna be a total enigma. But, you know, if I had the key…”

Azzi rolled her eyes, her smirk softening into a smile. “What would you even do with it?”

Paige tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Hmm, I don’t know. Depends on what I find. Deep, dark secrets? A crush on a teammate, maybe?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she stayed leaning back against the booth. “A crush on a teammate? You sound awfully confident for someone who’s never even seen me blush.”

Paige laughed softly, the sound sending a little ripple of warmth through Azzi’s chest. “I’m calling bullshit on that one.”

Azzi shook her head, her smile lingering as she watched Paige. “You’re a little annoying, you know that?”

Paige shrugged, her expression unbothered. “Yeah, but I’m charming. Makes up for it.”

Azzi rolled her eyes again, but there was no hiding the way her smile grew just a little wider. Paige had this way of getting under her skin, making her feel both flustered and strangely comfortable all at once. It was maddening and addictive, and Azzi wasn’t sure which one of those things scared her more.

Paige turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on Azzi with a curious look. “You know,” she said, her tone softer now, “you’ve been really quiet tonight.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching. “Maybe I’m just enjoying the show. You seem to be entertaining enough for the both of us.”

Paige grinned at that, her eyes sparkling. “I do aim to please,” she said, leaning a little closer. “But seriously, what’s up? You’ve got that faraway look.”

Azzi hesitated for a moment before exhaling softly, her gaze dropping to the table. “Just… thinking,” she said finally.

Paige tilted her head, studying her. “About what?”

Azzi looked back at her, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

Paige smirked. “Not a chance.”

Azzi hesitated again, the words sitting on the tip of her tongue. Finally, she said, “Nika pointed something out tonight.”

Paige’s eyebrows lifted, her smirk softening into a curious smile. “This ought to be good. What did our resident truth-teller have to say?”

Azzi smirked, feeling a flicker of amusement despite herself. “She said… you have a type.”

Paige raised an eyebrow at that, clearly intrigued. “Oh yeah? And what’s my type Azzi?”

Azzi shrugged, trying to keep her tone light. “At first, I didn’t think she was right. But then I thought about it.”

Paige leaned back, her arm stretching across the back of the booth as her eyes danced with curiosity. “And?”

Azzi hesitated for a moment before meeting Paige’s gaze again. “They all look like me.”

Azzi expected Paige to laugh it off, to make some joke and move on, but instead, Paige’s smile softened, her eyes darkening as she tilted her head slightly towards Azzi a little more.

“Yeah,” Paige said, her voice low and steady. “I can see that.”

Azzi blinked, her heart skipping a beat at the honesty in Paige’s tone. Her pulse quickened as she leaned in just slightly, her voice barely audible now. “Why?”

Paige’s gaze didn’t waver, her eyes searching Azzi’s as she answered. “Because I can’t have you.”

Azzi’s breath caught, her chest tightening at the weight of those words. She wasn’t sure what to say, wasn’t sure if she could even think straight with the way Paige was looking at her—as if she was the only person in the room. Their heads were still leaned back against the booth, but now their faces were so close, their whispers carrying the kind of intimacy that felt like it could shatter the air around them.

“How long?” Azzi asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder would break the fragile moment between them.

Paige’s lips curved into a soft, almost wistful smile, her eyes flickering to Azzi’s lips before returning to her gaze. “A long time.”

The simplicity of the answer hit Azzi harder than she expected, the honesty in Paige’s tone wrapping around her like a tether. Her mind raced, thoughts colliding in a way that left her dizzy.

For a moment, it felt like the air between them thickened, every noise and movement around them fading into the background. They weren’t in a crowded bar anymore; it was just the two of them, locked in a bubble of their own.

Azzi’s eyes searched Paige’s as if trying to confirm what she already knew. Paige tightened her jaw, a familiar motion Azzi had come to recognize—the telltale sign that Paige was reining herself in, trying to keep control. But this time, Paige didn’t pull away.

Neither of them spoke. Their eyes flicked back and forth—Paige’s gaze dropping to Azzi’s lips, Azzi’s locked on Paige’s mouth like it was the only thing in the world she could see.

Paige exhaled slowly, her breath brushing Azzi’s lips as they both leaned in, so agonizingly slow it felt like an eternity before they were close enough to taste the tension. Azzi could feel her heart pounding against her ribs, and judging by the slight tremble in Paige’s exhale, she wasn’t the only one.

Finally, Azzi moved, closing the unbearable gap between them. Her lips met Paige’s in a tentative kiss, soft and warm, sweetened by the lingering hint of alcohol from the cocktails they’d been sipping all night.

It was messy at first—the angle awkward as they leaned against the back of the booth—but neither of them cared. The kiss quickly shifted, deepened as if they were both making up for all the time they’d spent pretending this moment wasn’t inevitable.

Paige’s hand moved instinctively, sliding up to cup Azzi’s jaw, her thumb brushing lightly against her skin. Azzi’s breath hitched again as Paige’s lips parted slightly, her tongue swiping gently under Azzi’s bottom lip. The unspoken question was clear, and Azzi answered immediately, her lips parting to let Paige in.

Their tongues met, the kiss turning needier. Azzi felt like she was drowning, her fingers gripping Paige’s thigh under the table to anchor herself. Paige shifted closer, her hand now tangled in Azzi’s curls as if she couldn’t stand to keep any distance between them.

Unknowingly to them, the few teammates who’d been sitting in front of them at the table exchanged wide-eyed glances before quietly walking away, sensing that whatever was happening here was private, and very much overdue.

Neither Paige nor Azzi noticed—or cared. They were too far gone, lost in the heat of the moment.

But as the kiss stretched on, neither of them showing interest in stopping any time soon, other patrons started to glance in their direction.

That’s when Nika swooped in, a balled-up napkin in her hand. She hurled it at them, hitting Paige square in the shoulder. “Go home,” Nika said, her tone dry but carrying the teasing edge of a friend who’d had enough.

Startled, Paige and Azzi finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, their lips swollen and their cheeks flushed a deep crimson. Paige didn’t even glance at Nika. Her gaze remained fixed on Azzi, a world of unspoken desire and promise swirling in her eyes.

Azzi, however, chuckled softly at Nika’s words, a hint of nervousness in her breathless laugh, but mostly amusement. “Come on,” Azzi said as she reached for Paige’s hand under the table.

Paige blinked, slightly caught off guard by Azzi’s reaction. She had half-expected her to pull away, to get awkward or retreat into herself. But there was none of that. Azzi’s calm confidence was almost intoxicating, and it left Paige momentarily speechless.

Without saying a word, Paige slid out of the booth, her hand still in Azzi’s as they weaved their way through the bar.

…

As they stepped into Paige’s room, the tension from the bar followed them. Paige, unsure of where Azzi’s head was at, chose not to make a move right away. She quietly walked over to the bed, sitting down and leaning back against her hands. Her posture was casual, but her heart was racing, her mind buzzing with everything that transpired.

Azzi, however, didn’t hesitate. The soft click of the door locking behind her sent a jolt through Paige’s body. She looked up, her lips parting slightly to say something, but the words never came. Azzi was already crossing the room.

Before Paige could process what was happening, Azzi’s hands were on her shoulders, pushing her back against the mattress with a gentle motion. Paige let her body sink into the bed as Azzi climbed on top of her, straddling her hips.

The kiss that followed was nothing short of amazing. Azzi’s lips met Paige’s in a heated, almost desperate clash, all hesitation or restraint burned away in the heat that had been building between them for so long.

Paige responded instantly, her hands sliding down Azzi’s sides before gripping her ass, squeezing hard as she pulled Azzi even closer. The action earned her a soft, breathy moan from Azzi, who deepened the kiss in response.

Their movements were messy but urgent, a mixture of tongues and teeth as they explored each other. Azzi’s hands slid up, threading through Paige’s hair, tugging slightly to tilt her head back and change the angle of their kiss. Paige groaned into her mouth, the sound sending a shiver through Azzi’s body.

The room was quiet except for the sound of their lips moving together and the occasional ragged breath they managed to catch between kisses. Every touch, every shift of their bodies was fueled by months of pent-up tension finally being released.

Azzi pulled back slightly, just enough to hover above Paige, her breath ghosting against her lips. Her dark eyes searched Paige’s, as if looking for reassurance, for confirmation that this wasn’t just the alcohol or the heat of the moment.

As if Paige could read her mind, she gave a soft smile, her hands settling on Azzi’s waist as she gently flipped them over. Now leaning over Azzi, Paige’s voice was a low murmur, soothing yet confident. “Stop overthinking it,” she said, her lips curving into that teasing smirk Azzi found so intoxicating. “I got you.”

Azzi’s smile softened, her tension melting away as her hands moved up to frame Paige’s face. Her fingers slid along Paige’s jaw, interlacing behind her neck to hold her close. She pulled Paige down for another kiss, this one slower, more tender.

Paige took her time, letting the kiss linger and deepen naturally. Their lips moved in perfect rhythm, tongues occasionally brushing, sending little jolts of electricity through them both each time. There was no urgency now, just a shared intimacy as they both got lost in the moment.

The kiss stretched on, five minutes of bliss that felt like an eternity and yet not nearly enough. Neither of them wanted to break away, but when Paige finally leaned back slightly, it wasn’t to stop. Her hands went to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one smooth motion, revealing the toned lines of her body.

Azzi’s breath hitched, and she was quick to follow, slipping her shirt off almost as if on instinct. Her hands moved to the waistband of her jeans, but before she could undo the button, Paige’s hand gently covered hers, stopping her.

“You don’t gotta rush, baby,” Paige murmured, her voice low and reassuring as her thumb stroked Azzi’s knuckles. “I got it.”

Those words sent a warmth pooling in Azzi’s chest—and lower—that she hadn’t expected. She was so used to rushing into things, to moving fast and skipping the buildup. But this...this was different. Paige wasn’t just touching her body; she was touching a part of Azzi that had been craving more than just physical connection.

Azzi let her hands fall away, her body relaxing beneath Paige as she gave a small, almost shy nod. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Paige smiled at her, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the corner of Azzi’s mouth, then another along her jaw, taking her time like she promised. “Just let me take care of you,” Paige whispered, her lips brushing against Azzi’s skin as her hands began to explore.

Paige began placing open mouth kisses against Azzi’s neck making sure she drew each of them out. Every touch felt like a spark, igniting feelings in Azzi, leaving a trail of heat that made her pulse quicken. Paige’s hands we warm and gentle, as the roamed over Azzi’s body, her fingertips tracing the curves of her body, sending shivers down Azzi’s back with every brush.

Azzi’s breath came in ragged gasps, her chest starting to rise and fall quicker, a subtle tremor working through her as Paige continued moving lower. The new sensation was intoxicating for Azzi, as if Paige was slowly unraveling her, piece by piece.

Azzi’s hands gripped the sheets, her fingers curling into the fabric as soft sounds escaped her lips–a breathless, needy whisper that slipped out before she could even process it. “Paige…”

The sound of her name rolling off of Azzi’s lips, sent a warmth through Paige. She pulled back slightly to look at Azzi and take her in for a second. Her brown eyes were dark with desire, her face flushed, lips slightly parted.

Paige lowered herself again as she placed soft kisses against Azzi’s chest, slipping her hand behind the girl to undo her bra and toss it to the side.

Azzi’s breath hitched as she swallowed the sounds threatening to escape her as Paige explored her chest before moving down further leaving sloppy kisses all over Azzi’s abdomen.

Azzi let out a soft, frustrated groan, her body aching from the slow build-up of desire. Paige was taking her sweet time, drawing out every kiss, every touch, and Azzi felt like she was about to explode and Paifge hadn’t even done anything yet. So she tried to move, to push Paige further down her body, but the moment her hands slipped from the sheet’s, Paige was there grabbing both of her wrist and pinning them firmly to her sides.

Azzi’s breath hitched at the sudden restraint, a jolt of heat coursing between her legs as she looked down at Paige, eyes wide with longing. Paige's gaze was dark and filled with an almost cruel amusement.

“You need to be patient,” Paige whispered, her voice low, a teasing smile forming.

Azzi’s chest tightened, and she swallowed her throat all of a sudden feeling dry. She wasn’t used to this kind of anticipation, this slow burn that made every nerve in her body feel like it was on fire. She could feel herself restraint slipping with every second, her body practically beginning for more.

“I can’t,” Azzi admitted, her voice breathless. Her hands clenched against the sheet’s under Paige’s hold and her hips shifted restlessly. She needed more. Needed Paige to ease the ache that was building. “Please…”

The word slipped from her lips, barely above a whisper.

Paige’s smile only grew, her eyes a mixture of amusement and desire for the girl under her. “Move your hands again,” she said softly, “and I’m starting over.”

Azzi’s body tensed at the words, more heat rushing between her legs as she let out a soft frustrated groan as she swallowed hard. Her heart raced, the pulse between her legs only intensifying at the threat. She wanted to beg. To pull Paige closer but she couldn’t handle more waiting so she kept her mouth shut.

Her back arched as Paige leaned down, placing an open mouth kisses to Azzi’s hip sending a shock of heath through Azzi’s body. Azzi moaned softly, her hands instinctively trying to grab at Paige, but Paige kept her pinned.

Azzi’s breath hitched again as Paige sucked a little harshly now and her body bucked, trying to push herself into Paige. Paige just smiled, her mouth hovering close to the waistband of Azzi’s pants. Azzi’s chest heaved as she struggled against the growing frustration, her voice a desperate whisper.

“Please, Paige…” Azzi’s voice cracked, barely audible, but clearly heavy with need.

Paige looked up at her through half-lidded eyes, and Azzi saw how dark her blue eyes looked, the control that she was exercising with every kiss. Paige sucked against Azzi’s v-line as she looked at her, causing Azzi to bite her lip hard as she arched into Paige again.

Paige chuckled at this. “Mmm ok I got you baby,” she murmured against Azzi’s skin. Paige undid Azzi’s pants button before pulling them down, slowly kissing down Azzi’s legs as she did it.

Azzi’s whole body trembled, a soft moan escaping her throat. She swallowed thickly, leaning her head back against the pillow closing her eyes as she tried to steady her breath. She could already feel how embarrassingly fast she was going to come undone for Paige.

As soon as Paige’s tongue swiped across Azzi’s center, she let out a breathles murmur, her body trembling at the feeling already. Her words came out in a jumble, soft and incoherent, as the heat radiating off of Paige made her lose any coherent thought.

Paige chuckled softly, her lips curling into a slight smile as she repeated the motion, this time slower, letting her tongue glide across Azzi with more pressure. Azzi’s pulse spiked and her hands instinctively gripped Paige’s hair pushing her further into her, as a soft, needy whisper spilled from her lips.

“That feels so good,” Azzi breathed, barely managing to form words.

Paige mumbled again as she continued her movements, a teasing note in her voice as she said, “I know baby. I been tryna tell you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes internally at Paige’s smugness, the need to argue rising. But before she could voice her frustration, Paige’s mouth found her sensitive spot, sucking softly and Azzi’s words caught in her throat. Her body arching involuntarily as her eyes rolled back and fluttered closed.

As Paige continued to move her tongue against Azzi, the teasing pressure of her lips and tongue driving Azzi wild. She was trembling beneath her, breathless, every inch of her skin tingling with sensation. Unable to ocntain herself, Azzi whispered her name again, the sound escaping before she could think about it.

“Fuck Paige…”

Paige didn’t stop. She only hummed softly in her response, “Hmm?”

Azzi’s body arched involuntarily at the vibration, her fingers tightening in Paige’s hair as she tried to steady herself. “I’ve never fucking felt this before,” she admitted, the words showing her desperation. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could swear she heard it echoing in her ears.

Paige’s response was a soft knowing murmur against Azzi. “Mhmm…” She didn’t slow down. If anything her movements became more deliberate, more intense as Azzi’s grip on her hair tightened.

The pressure in Azzi’s stomach was building, a tension that only seemed to grow stronger with every brush of Paige’s lips against her. Unable to hold still, Azzi shifted beneath her, her hips moving to instinctively close the nonexistent space between them, to feel Paige lips more fully.

At this Paige pushed firmply against Azzi’s stomach. The pressure heightening the tension in Azzi’s core, a wave of heat sweeping through her. She squeezed her eyes shut, a soft, strangled sound escaping her throat as the intensity of it threatened to overwhelm her. She was choking on her own breath, unable to keep up with the pleasure that was flooding her senses.

Every inch of her was on fire, the tension in her stomach so tight so tight, it felt like she needed to stop. Azzi’s breath came in ragged gasps, each sound leaving her throat a little more choked, a little more desperate.

She had no control left and before she realizes what’s happening her entire back arches upward toward Paige who's still pushing down on her stomach as her tongue continues working. Azzi’s entire body is trembling as she screams out, “Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes...I’m coming Paige.”

Paige winces slightly at how hard Azzi pulls her hair as she slows her movements, letting Azzi ride out what seems to be a new feeling for her.

When she’s done, Paige slowly kisses her way up Azzi’s body.

Azzi lay back against the soft sheets, her body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. Her breath came in uneven gasps as her eyes slowly fluttered open, gazing at Paige. The room seemed to hum with a quiet, lingering energy that made her chest tighten in both awe and disbelief. She had never felt anything like this before. Never had she been completely undone by someone like she had just been by Paige.

She wiped her thumb across Paige’s chin as Paige leaned down, her lips capturing Azzi’s in a slow, lingering kiss. The kiss was messy as Paige let Azzi taste everything before she pulled away.

Azzi smiled up at her still tasting the remnants of the kiss, the sweetness of her and the alcohol mixed together, and it sent a shiver of disbelief down her spine.

“I’ve never…” Azzi started, her voice hoarse as she looked up at Paige, who was now standing. Her gaze was focused, but Azzi’s eyes were still wide, her chest tightening at the thought. “I didn’t think I could… feel like that.”

"You should know by now, Azzi," Paige said, her voice low and laced with that intoxicating confidence, "I don’t do things halfway."

Azzi’s stomach fluttered at the sound of those words, the teasing yet assured tone leaving her breathless. She watched as Paige moved toward her closet, the subtle grace in her movements sending a spark of anticipation coursing through Azzi’s veins. Paige seemed to move with intention. As she stood there, just inside the closet, Azzi could see her reaching for something—a small box she’d pulled down from a shelf.

Azzi’s breath hitched as Paige slowly made her way back toward the bed, unboxing what was inside. Azzi’s stomach tightened, a shiver running through her body as she caught sight of the unfamiliar object. There was something about it that made her heart race, her mind whirring with a mixture of curiosity and nervous excitement. She had no idea what to expect, but the thought of it was enough to make her pulse quicken.

Paige reached the bed, standing over Azzi, her eyes filled with that same daring glint that made Azzi's own breath catch. She didn’t say a word at first, just looked at Azzi—her gaze steady, almost searching.

"Can I keep going?" Paige asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azzi felt the question hit her like a wave, her pulse accelerating as she met Paige’s gaze. She didn’t even hesitate. She nodded quickly, almost too eagerly.

Paige let out a soft laugh, the sound low and almost fond, as she looked at Azzi’s reaction.

Paige takes off the rest of her clothes, adjusting the harness against herself methodically as Azzi watches, never breaking her eyes away from Paige.

Paige settled onto the bed, hovering above Azzi, her body close but not quite touching, the tension between them thick. Azzi’s heart was hammering in her chest as she watched Paige, her thoughts swirling with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. For a moment, everything seemed to pause—the room, the world outside, and even the way Paige was looking at her. Paige’s eyes were dark with desire, but there was something else there too, something gentle, almost questioning, as if she was waiting for Azzi to decide where this would go.

But Azzi didn’t want to wait anymore.

Before Paige could make another move, Azzi surprised her, gently pushing her back to sit against the headboard. The action was smooth, calculated, and surprisingly assertive for Azzi, who had always been the more reserved one between them. The boldness of it made Paige's pulse race, but she didn’t protest. Instead, she looked at Azzi, her brow furrowing, a subtle question hanging in the air.

“Are you sure?” Paige’s voice was soft, laced with concern, but her eyes were full of something else—something that made Azzi’s stomach flip.

Azzi didn’t hesitate. She gave a slow nod, her gaze never leaving Paige’s. Her hand reached out, pulling Paige closer, guiding her into a kiss that was both tender and urgent. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a kiss that conveyed everything Azzi had been feeling. As their lips met, Azzi could feel the heat of Paige's body so close to hers, their breaths mingling in the soft air between them.

Azzi’s hips began to move against the strap, a slow grind that had Paige’s breath catching in her throat as she listened to Azzi’s breathing pick up again.

Paige pulled back, her lips barely brushing against Azzi’s as she gazed into her eyes, searching for something.

“Are you sure?” Paige’s voice was hushed, almost a whisper, as she placed a hand on Azzi’s hip, steadying her gently. The question wasn’t one of doubt—Paige knew Azzi could make her own decisions. It was a question wrapped in care, a need for reassurance in the midst of the raw energy between them.

Azzi blinked, her heart racing, her breaths coming in soft, uneven gasps. All she felt was certainty—a certainty that she wanted this, wanted her, and nothing else mattered. With a soft laugh, one that held a trace of disbelief and excitement, Azzi leaned forward, pressing her lips to Paige’s in a quick, teasing kiss.

��Yes, baby,” she murmured, her words almost playful but filled with undeniable sincerity. “I’m sure.”

Paige smiles softly at Azzi as she adjusts the strap, the tip of it pressing against Azzi who bites her lip at the feeling.

Azzi lowers herself further down, Paige’s hand steady on her hips as she eases her into it slowly.

Paige's voice dropped to a low whisper as she leaned in closer, her breath brushing against Azzi’s ear as she kissed her neck a few times. "Can you take all of it, baby?" she asked, the words laced with a gentleness but a teasing edge.

At Paige's words, Azzi's breath hitched, her chest rising and falling quickly as she nodded, her response breathy and full of anticipation.

With this confirmation Paige pulls Azzi down further making a loud gasp escape her lips as her eyes roll back. Paige slightly groans as it presses against her.

After adjusting, Azzi slowly starts circling her hips, her hands interlocking with Paige’s that were holding her waist as she looks down at the blonde who’s watching her in admiration. Azzi can’t help but moan as she moves against it, feeling it in her stomach.

“Oh fuck,” Azzi whispers, her eyes still shut in ecstasy as she now braces herself with her hands on Paige’s shoulders. Paige is leaning against the headboard watching Azzi with low eyes, breathy sounds escaping her as every movement Azzi makes presses against her harder.

Paige licks her lips looking up at Azzi whispering “You look so good riding it baby.”

Azzi chuckled softly at Paige’s words, a playful, almost teasing sound leaving her lips as she brushed her hair to one side, her eyes never leaving Paige as she did.

Paige groans at the sight using her hands to move Azzi further up the strap before bringing her back down a couple of times.

Azzi gasps at this, “Fuck Paige.”

“I know…I feel it too baby,” Paige whispers her voice hoarse as she feels herself getting closer.

The room was heavy with the sound of their breath as they lost themselves in the moment for a few minutes. Never breaking eye contact as they savored the moment.

But the air started to fill with a thick desire as Azzi’s movements quickened, her hips pressing against Paige in a rhythm that made both of them moan in each other's mouths. But then, breaking through the haze of their passion, the sound of Azzi’s phone buzzing on the dresser cut through the silence, the ringtone sharp and jarring.

At first, neither of them acknowledged it, too wrapped up in one another, but then it buzzed again and again. Paige glanced over at the screen, catching the name Cam flashing brightly across it. She tensed for a moment, wondering if Azzi would pull away to answer, but instead, Azzi didn’t skip a beat. Her movements didn’t falter as she kept her steady rhythm, eyes still locked with Paige’s, filled with a focused intensity that made Paige’s heart race.

With a low, breathy laugh, Azzi reached over, her hand brushing against the dresser a few times until her fingers wrapped around the phone. She didn’t hesitate for a second, holding down the power button with a steady hand before swiping her finger across the screen to turn it off completely. The phone fell back onto the dresser with a soft thud, and Azzi didn’t miss a beat, her body leaning into Paige again, pushing her hips against Paige’s with a renewed urgency, as if the phone had never been there at all.

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, a low, amused sound escaping her.

Azzi ka basically bouncing against Paige now, gripping her shoulders for dear life as she crys out “Oh fuck..”

Paige is struggling to not come undone before Azzi finishes, her head laid back against the headboard, her eyes low as she watches Azzi on top of her. Azzi notices this so she leans back to give Paige a better view resting her hands on the mattress as she continues moving it in and out of her.

Paige whimpers out at she takes in the sight, “Fuck I can feel everything Az, you feel so good…”

Azzi is gasping now as their eyes lock on one another neither one of them look away as they get lost in the feeling.

Paige adjusts herself slightly so she’s hitting Azzi at a new angle that makes her gasp loudly mumbling, “Mhm you feel so good baby.”

“You like how I feel?” Paige asks, her voice barely containing the whine she tried to hold in.

Azzi nods quickly as she quickens the pace muttering out “I fucking love how you feel”

As Paige threw her head back, a soft gasp escaping her lips, Azzi looked down at her with a look of intense focus, her breath shallow as she searched Paige's expression. "You close?" she asked, her voice a low, almost teasing whisper.

Paige, eyes heavy with desire, could only nod in response, her breath catching in her throat as she gazed up at Azzi through half-lidded eyes. Her body was already trembling with the buildup, every nerve alight from the touch.

Azzi’s lips curled into a faint smirk, her gaze flickering from Paige’s eyes to her lips before she leaned down and pressed herself further into her, pulling her into a kiss. The kiss was deep and consuming, their bodies tightening against one another as Azzi pulled Paige closer.

The kiss didn’t last long Paige pulling back mumbling, “Fuck just like that Az…ride it just like that.”

At Paige’s praise, something snapped inside Azzi–a sudden rush of need flooding her system. Without warning, she pushed down harder, the feeling of Paige beneath her driving her wild. Her legs began to tremble, every muscle taut. Desperate sounds–moans, gasps–tumbled from her lips, raw and completely untamed

“Oh my god,” Azzi moaned, the words barely audible as they’re choked out through her shallow breaths. The pressure in her stomach snapped as she came undone all over Paige’s legs.

Paige immediately groaned in response, her grip on Azzi tightening as she pulled her deeper into her before she was coming undone too, muttering out Azzi’s name as she did so.

The kiss that followed was anything but gentle. It was messy and uncoordinated as they melted into one another desperately. Paige’s mouth was rough against Azzi’ as their tongues tangled with one another. Azzi’s body moved faster, legs shaking still as they both came undone again in less than a few seconds.

Azzi slumped against Paige, her forehead resting against Paige’s shoulder as she caught her breath, their slick bodies tangled together. The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing and the soft chuckles that escaped both of them, the aftermath of what had just unfolded between them settling in.

Feeling extremely sensitive, Azzi eased herself off of the toy before settling back on Paige’s lap in a more comfortable position. Her arms loosely wrapped around Paige’s neck as she let out a breathless laugh, her voice still tinged with disbelief. “Oh my god,” she said, laughing again, the weight of the moment sinking in.

Paige tilted her head back against the headboard, her own laugh low and satisfied. “Told you,” she murmured, a teasing grin spreading across her face as she glanced at Azzi through hooded eyes.

Azzi let out a small, exasperated laugh, weakly pushing Paige’s shoulder, though it lacked any real force. “Shut up,” she muttered, but her smile gave her away. Her energy was spent, her limbs felt like jelly, and all she could do was lean against Paige, shaking her head slightly as the last remnants of laughter faded between them. Paige’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close as they sat there, wrapped in the comfortable silence of their shared intimacy.

The two of them just sat there, holding onto one another, the room quiet and filled with a warm, lingering intimacy.

Eventually, Azzi sighed softly, shifting to climb off Paige’s lap completely, her legs shaky but steady enough to settle beside her. Paige gave her a small smirk as she undid the harness, tossing it casually onto the floor before standing and disappearing into the bathroom.

Azzi watched her go, her body still humming from everything. When Paige returned, she held a towel in her hand, the edges slightly damp from warm water. Without saying a word, she knelt down in front of Azzi, her expression soft but focused.

Paige gently lifted one of Azzi’s legs, holding her ankle as she began to wipe the towel along her skin, carefully. The warmth of the cloth combined with Paige’s touch sent a shiver through Azzi. She blinked, her gaze locking on Paige as her chest swelled with something she couldn’t quite put into words.

Azzi stared down at her, her eyes wide and filled with awe. “You don’t have to—” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige glanced up at her, a soft smile curving her lips as she shook her head. “Yes I do,” she said simply, her voice low.

The tenderness in Paige’s actions, the quiet care she was showing, made Azzi’s heart thrum in her chest. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Paige’s cheek as she watched her, completely enamored by the girl in front of her. Paige didn’t look up again, too focused on making sure Azzi was comfortable and taken care of, but the slight curve of her lips gave her away.

Once Paige finished, she set the towel aside and climbed back onto the bed. She leaned back against the pillows, extending an arm toward Azzi in invitation. Azzi didn’t hesitate, curling into Paige’s side, her head resting on her chest as she let out a contented sigh.

Paige tugged the blanket over both of them, the soft fabric cocooning their still-warm bodies. The room settled into a peaceful quiet, save for the sound of their steady breaths syncing together.

Azzi's hand absentmindedly traced light patterns along Paige’s stomach, her mind still reeling from everything that had just happened. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep but laced with humor.

Paige chuckled softly, pressing her lips to the top of Azzi’s head. “And you’re trouble,” she replied.

Azzi let out a small laugh but didn’t respond, her breathing already slowing as sleep began to claim her. Paige’s hand rested on Azzi’s back, her thumb gently moving in soothing circles.

As they drifted off, the weight of the night melted away, leaving nothing but the comfort of each other’s presence

…

The next morning, Paige was already up when Azzi’s eyes fluttered open. The faint smell of coffee and something warm and buttery filled the air, coaxing her out of sleep. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the soft morning light streaming through the curtains, and when she turned her head, she found Paige standing at the side of the bed with a tray of food in her hands, her expression warm and slightly smug.

“Good morning,” Paige said. “Figured I owed you breakfast after last night.”

Azzi couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. Her chest swelled with affection as she took in the sight of Paige, still a little rumpled from sleep, but thoughtful as ever. She reached out, grabbing Paige by the wrist and tugging her down into a soft kiss. “You’re making it impossible not to adore you already,” Azzi murmured against her lips.

Paige chuckled as she pulled back, setting the tray on the bed. “Careful. You’re gonna give me a big head.”

Azzi laughed softly, sitting up and stretching before settling in beside Paige to eat.

When they finished, Azzi leaned over to grab her phone from the nightstand. She hesitated for a moment before turning it on, the screen immediately lighting up with a flood of notifications. Texts, missed calls, social media alerts—it was all there.

Azzi’s brows furrowed, but she didn’t bother looking at most of them. Instead, she tapped on Cam’s name, typing out a quick message: Can you meet me in my room?

The reply came back almost instantly, which was rare: Yeah, of course.

Azzi stared at the screen for a moment, then set the phone down, letting out a quiet sigh. Paige, who had been watching her from the corner of her eye, reached out to place a reassuring hand on Azzi’s thigh. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Azzi said with a small smile, though her tone was thoughtful. “Just need to talk to Cam.”

Paige nodded, leaning back on her hands. “You want me to stick around or go with you?”

Azzi glanced at her, the warmth in her gaze unmistakable. “You can come with me,” she said softly. “If you want.”

Paige smiled, leaning over to kiss Azzi on the temple. “I got you.”

Azzi and Paige made their way to Azzi’s room. They currently sat side by side on the couch, Paige leaning back casually, her arm draped along the top, while Azzi scrolled on her phone, music playing in the background.

When Cam arrived, he barely hesitated before stepping inside. His eyes darted between the two of them, and he immediately moved toward Azzi, arms outstretched to pull her into a hug. But Azzi raised her hand, stopping him mid-step.

“We need to talk,” she said simply.

Cam froze, his brow furrowing. “Talk about what?” he asked, though there was an edge to his voice now.

Azzi gestured toward the door to her room. “In there.”

Cam glanced at Paige, who was still seated on the couch, watching silently, her expression unreadable. He huffed but followed Azzi into her bedroom, closing the door behind them.

The moment it clicked shut, Cam turned on her. “Did you turn off your phone last night?” His voice was sharp, his tone teetering on aggressive.

Azzi didn’t flinch as she answered simply, “Yes. But we need to talk.”

Her calmness seemed to irritate him further. “Clearly, we need to fucking talk if you’re turning off your phone when I’m calling you,” he snapped. “I was trying to tell you I couldn’t make it to the party—”

Azzi let out a soft chuckle, cutting him off. “It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t there.”

“What?” Cam asked, his confusion mixing with frustration. “What were you doing that you turned off your phone when I called, then?”

Azzi paused, considering her next words carefully. She could feel the weight of the moment, but her decision had already been made. Meeting his gaze directly, she said it plainly: “I was fucking Paige.”

Cam’s entire body stiffened, his jaw clenching as her words registered. “What the fuck did you just say?” he spat.

Azzi’s lips curved into a small, almost defiant smile at finally being able to do this. So this time, she repeated herself slowly, enunciating every word as if daring him to challenge her.

“I. Was. Fucking. Paige.”

Cam’s face twisted in confusion, anger, and disbelief as the weight of Azzi’s words hung heavy in the air. “Azzi, what do you mean?” he asked, his voice faltering slightly as if he hoped she might backtrack or offer a different explanation.

Azzi let out a sharp laugh, almost incredulous. “It means exactly what I’m saying, Cam.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm, her patience clearly waning with the boy she wanted nothing to do with anymore. “If you really want me to get specific, I can, but I really don’t think you want that.”

Cam shook his head rapidly, as if trying to erase her words from existence. “You can’t be friends with her anymore,” he said firmly, his tone demanding in a way that made Azzi pause.

And then she laughed. Full-on, head-tilted-back laughter, the kind that made it clear she wasn’t even trying to take him seriously. “Oh my god,” she said, catching her breath and looking at him with pure disbelief. “You’re actually stupid.”

Before he could respond, Azzi’s expression hardened. “You know what? Forget it. We’re done. I’m breaking up with you.”

Cam’s eyes widened, his face reddening as he scrambled to regain the upper hand. “You’re breaking up with me?” he repeated, incredulous. “Well, good, because I cheated on you.”

Azzi’s brows shot up, and for a moment, she just stared at him. Then, with a raised eyebrow and a smirk tugging at her lips, she said dryly, “Good for you, Cameron. I’m sure those three minutes were absolutely unforgettable for you.”

The words hit like a slap, and Cam’s face turned a deep shade of red, his embarrassment morphing into anger. Without thinking, he lashed out, smacking a framed picture of him and Azzi off her desk. The glass shattered as it hit the floor, the sound echoing in the room.

Azzi didn’t flinch, her expression was calm and unbothered. She knew he wasn’t going to actually do anything to hurt her. She just stood there, arms crossed, watching him like he was a child throwing a tantrum.

But the crash brought Paige into the room almost instantly. She appeared in the doorway, her sharp eyes darting from the broken frame on the floor to Cam’s flushed, angry face. Without hesitation, Paige stepped forward, her tall frame towering over Cam.

Cam turned on her, getting right in her face. The height difference was laughable—he had to tilt his head up just to meet her eyes. “What are you gonna do, huh?” he spat, his voice shaking with misplaced bravado.

Paige didn’t say a word. She just stared down at him, her expression unreadable. It was the kind of look that didn’t need words—calm, but with an unspoken warning behind it.

Azzi, sensing the tension rise, quickly stepped forward and grabbed Paige’s arm. “It’s fine,” she murmured, her voice soft but firm, not wanting things to escalate. She tugged gently, urging Paige to step back.

Cam’s eyes flicked to Azzi’s hand on Paige’s arm, and his jaw tightened. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head in frustration. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath before shoving past Paige and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the crunch of glass under Azzi’s foot as she moved to pick up the broken frame. Paige bent down to help, her gaze softening as she looked at Azzi. “You okay?”

Azzi nodded, a small, wry smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah,” she said lightly, glancing at the door Cam had just slammed shut. “I think he took that about as well as expected.”

Paige chuckled, leaning back and shaking her head, amused but undeniably smug. “Guess I did keep my promise,” she murmured, reaching for Azzi’s hand and pulling her closer.

Azzi let out a light laugh, rolling her eyes as she shifted closer, their knees touching now. “Don’t let it go to your head,” she teased, though the softness in her gaze betrayed her words.

Paige ignored the playful jab, her hand coming up to cradle Azzi’s cheek. She stared into Azzi’s eyes for a moment, the weight of everything between them settling into something unshakable.

“How was it last night though?” Paige asked, her tone low and laced with that confidence Azzi could never resist.

Azzi’s smile widened, but she refused to indulge her too much. “You already know how it was,” she replied, her voice equally soft and teasing. “It was worth breaking up with him for.”

Paige laughed again, the sound warm and full of life. She didn’t say anything else, letting her actions speak louder than words. She leaned in, her lips brushing against Azzi’s in a kiss that held every promise she had ever made.

In the background, the lyrics of What You Heard played softly from Azzi’s speaker, the ending verse weaving through the air like it was written for this moment:

"I try my best, you know I did / I try to give you what you want / But I just couldn’t handle it..."

Azzi’s fingers threaded through Paige’s hair as they broke apart, her forehead resting against Paige’s. “You’re much better,” Azzi whispered, the words carrying all the emotions she couldn’t quite put into sentences.

Paige smiled against her lips, pulling her even closer. “Good,” she said simply, her voice full of quiet assurance.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

294 notes · View notes

thelov3lybookworm · 13 hours ago

Text

hello im back with my bs to scream my head off for this masterpiece 🤡

but every time he returned to check, they were untouched

hahahahah 🫵🏻🤓you shouldnt leave stuff az what if we think ur in love with us and try to kiss u 🥺

“How was the meeting with Keir?”

.......

😐😑😐

how dumb can a batboy be? IM SCREAMING THE WAY HE FUCKED THIS UP ALREADYYY 🤦🏻‍♀️

edit: welcomg to how you dont apologise class 101 💖

“Rhys said I should expect some tension at the next meeting. I wanted the full picture.”

🫵🏻🤡

“For how you feel.”

...az...my boy, chatgpt can give you better apologies, you couldve just memorised it pookie 😭🙄

“I’m sorry that your feelings got hurt.”

az... az no 🥲🥲🥲

His shadows slowly loosened, trailing down his body like they didn’t want to be associated with him anymore

same. theyre my spirit animal.🫂

“Do you think I should stop by Nesta first? Make sure she’s okay with me being around her mate? I wouldn’t want to ruin their relationship too."

AHAHAHAHAHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 💀💀💀my girllllllllllll my girlllll 🥹

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

no one can help this dude bro🥲

“I guess some females are into that.”

i feel like this will come to bite her in the ass one day 🤨

He didn’t get enough credit for it, you thought, his ability to read someone without words.

fr fr my boi deserves some love 😔

“Shit, Cass, way to play sides.”

fr like hes supposed to make yn feel better but hes doing this shit 🤨😒

“What have I done now?”

ur always doing something stupid pookie 🫶🏻

“No,” Cassian shot back. “You always do this. You make decisions that are selfish. You push people away because you think it’s easier, and it’s not. It’s bullshit.”

MY CHILD IS EATINGGGGG 😌 im so happy you tell him pookie 🥹

The slap came out of nowhere.

👏🏻THE👏🏻GASP👏🏻I👏🏻GUSP👏🏻😦🥹

"Sorry,” Cassian said flatly. “Must’ve been the wind.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH🤪

Azriel’s lip curled. He opened his mouth to respond, but a second slap landed, harder this time

CASSIAN CAME TO SERVE CUNT MY LORD OMG OMG OMGGG IM SO HAPPY RN 💀🥳

The third slap was the breaking point.

💀💀💀

“Do you know who I am?”

the only one smart here thats who u are 🥹🤭

You smiled. And then you punched her in the face.

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH ALL THE SLAPPING AND PUNCHING IS GIVIN ME LIFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE🥹🥳🥳🥳

RAE YOU ATE POOKIE LIKE ALWAYSSSS 🥹🥹🥹

Are We Still Friends? — Part Three

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Azriel’s attempts at an apology fall short, Cassian’s advice backfires, and confrontations force both you and Azriel to face uncomfortable truths—though not the same ones.

Warnings: angst. a heavy grudge, a male incapable of owning up to his mistakes, a well-meaning but wrong-steering best friend, verbal fighting, physical fighting, brief mentions of blood

Word Count: 8.5k

this was going to be two parts but... for the drama, ive decided to offer a feast and not just a meal

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel hadn’t meant to let it sit for this long.

His shadows had been needling him for days, hissing reminders at the edge of his mind: Fix this. He intended to. He just didn’t know how. There were too many eyes on him now, too many people that expected his great, grand apology.

It was hard to focus on anything else. Even when he was with Selene, her words barely touched him. His mind was consumed by the unease that gnawed at him, the constant pull of you, somewhere, still angry over what had happened.

Azriel wanted to ask Selene about her words. Why they’d taken root in his mind, why he’d echoed them back to you. But he didn’t. He let Selene talk, smiled when she asked for his opinion, and tried to let the softness of her lips on his drown out the unease.

He didn’t know exactly why it felt so much harder with you— felt harder to argue, felt even harder to apologize. Everything else in his life, every delicate situation, every broken, jagged thing, he could attempt to handle with steady hands. But you—every time he stepped near you lately, it felt like stepping onto unstable ground. One wrong move, and everything shifted beneath him.

His shadows had made sure to remind him, trailing after you through the house, feeding him fragments of your clipped words to Mor, the slam of a cabinet door when you thought no one was paying attention. They weren’t even subtle about it anymore, curling around his ears like smoke, whispering your whereabouts.

He’d tried small things—leaving you treats, a smoothie for breakfast, or a croissant on a plate with your name carefully written on a napkin. But every time he returned to check, they were untouched. Once, he found the croissant flattened and crumpled, as if you’d squeezed it with a tight fist before tossing it back onto the plate. His shadows confirmed you were angry that night, their murmurs suggesting no coincidence in your evening spent with Mor.

Since then, every instinct told him to stay away and retreat, to wait until he’d figured out the right thing to say instead of stumbling through this mess. But waiting had gotten him here, hadn’t it? And now he was scrambling to undo weeks of silence. He thought, maybe, he should have something written out. Something properly planned, so that he knew what he wanted to tell you. But every time he thought about what to say, his mind came up blank. After hours of failure, he’d convinced himself that, with you, it would come naturally. It always had.

Or, at least, that’s what he kept repeating as he made his way downstairs, finding you in the kitchen.

You didn’t look up right away, but you knew he was there.

“Are you sure you want to be in here without a chaperone?” you said, slicing into an apple slowly. “What if something happens?”

Shadows swirled around his shoulders. Angry, they whispered. As if he didn’t already know.

“Stop,” Azriel said. “Can we just... stop with the comments. Please.”

“Why?” You said, finally tossing a glance his way. “Is it bothering you?”

The look on your face was nothing like he expected. It wasn’t just anger. It was exhaustion, too. He didn’t like it, the way the shadows under your eyes and the stiffness in your shoulders spoke louder than anything you’d said to him in days. Didn’t like that he’d probably been the one to put that exhaustion there.

“Yes,” Azriel finally responded. “It is bothering me.”

You let out a laugh, something low and humorless, and it twisted in his chest. Should he apologize for making you lose sleep, too? He’d already failed at the rest of it—what was one more thing to add to the pile?

Azriel cleared his throat. “Can we talk?”

“Now you want to talk?”

His fists clenched at his sides. The familiar burn of frustration, the heat of guilt, rose up his throat. “How was I supposed to talk to you before when you’d just ignore me or say something snarky and leave?”

You stilled at his words and Azriel was almost tempted to embrace the small flicker of relief he felt. He should have apologized sooner, yes, but you had been avoiding him fervently. He convinced himself he wouldn’t have been able to apologize before now, anyways.

“Okay,” you said, setting the knife down and leaning against the counter. “Well, I’m here now. So what do you want to say?”

Azriel’s eyes flicked to the knife instinctively. It was far enough from your hand that he probably didn’t need to worry. Probably. Not that he thought you’d do anything—though there was that one time Cassian had nearly stabbed him with a butter knife. He’d been significantly less angry than you were now. The memory did nothing to ease Azriel’s nerves. He pushed the image away.

This was it—his chance to fix things. To say all the things he’d been rehearsing in his head. But the words didn’t come. Instead, he found himself saying, “How was the meeting with Keir?”

The second the words left his mouth, he wanted to grab them out of the air and shove them back down his throat. He could see it in the way your expression shifted—something sharp and disbelieving cutting across your face. Azriel didn’t need his shadows to tell him he’d screwed up again. The words had barely landed, and already he was bracing for the fallout.

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?”

Azriel froze. His shadows curled tighter around him. Stupid, stupid. He swallowed, desperately trying to correct it. There was no going back. “Rhys said I should expect some tension at the next meeting. I wanted the full picture.”

“The full picture?” You repeated darkly. “Well the full picture wasn’t great, Azriel. Because you weren’t there. And because I was pissed—because of you.”

Azriel nodded, swallowing hard. Idiot. “Right. I shouldn’t have asked that. I should’ve—” He stopped himself. No, he couldn’t fix that now. He needed to focus on what mattered.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally, the words leaving his mouth like rocks tumbling down a hill. He hated the way it sounded—weak, like he didn’t mean it. But he did. He just didn’t know how to make you believe it. Azriel continued, the apology already unraveling in his head. “For how you feel.”

“Oh,” you said softly, but there was a thick sarcasm in your voice. “You’re sorry for how I feel?”

Azriel rushed to correct himself. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?” You shook your head, letting out a quiet, bitter laugh. “Do you even know what you’re trying to tell me?”

“Yes.”

“Then what are you sorry for?”

Azriel cursed himself for the hundredth time. Why was this so hard?

Because it was you, he heard his own voice reply, because he couldn’t bear the thought of failing you again. He knew he was failing—knew it in the sharp edge of your voice and the way your eyes narrowed every time he opened his mouth. And still, the right thing to say stayed maddeningly out of reach.

“I’m sorry that your feelings got hurt.”

His shadows slowly loosened, trailing down his body like they didn’t want to be associated with him anymore. He didn’t blame them. You blinked slowly at him, that look of exhaustion softening your features.

“That’s not an apology, Azriel. That’s—” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. “You know what? Nevermind.”

Azriel was transported back to the night of the fight, remembering how you’d said similar words then, too. He tried to salvage it again, but you were already moving, wiping the cutting board with a hurried motion. You didn’t notice as your apple, barely sliced, rolled off the counter’s edge. His shadows were there almost instantly, catching the fruit before it fell.

You reached out, and for a brief moment, your shoulders softened as you grabbed it from their hold.

“Where are you going?” Azriel asked. He wondered if his voice sounded as desperate as he felt. As frustrated.

“To train with Cassian,” you replied, still not looking at him. Your hand paused on the counter, and you glanced over your shoulder. “Do you think I should stop by Nesta first? Make sure she’s okay with me being around her mate? I wouldn’t want to ruin their relationship too.”

Azriel’s chest tightened. “Can we stop this?”

“No,” you replied swiftly, and Az could have sworn he heard a crack in your voice.

And then the silence stretched. You ate the small slices of apple as you put things away, the quiet dragging on as he stood there, still unable to speak. Finally, you stopped and looked at him. He tried to offer a smile, something to soften the weight in the air. But you just frowned.

“Did you expect to wait this out? Wait until I got over it?”

Azriel shook his head, his voice low. “No. I never thought that. I just—”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You stared at him for a long moment, like you were seeing him for the first time, and the disappointment in your gaze made his chest feel tight. He should have been able to find the right words. But it didn’t matter anymore, not in this moment, not as you let out a small, bitter laugh, nodding as if something inside you had finally broken.

“Always so afraid of saying the wrong thing that you never say the right one.”

Azriel opened his mouth, desperate to correct himself, to make it right, but the words just wouldn’t come. He had never considered that before—at least, not with you. He’d never thought he needed to say the right things, never cared enough to learn how.

“I never realized how much of an asshole you could be,” you said, with a final, almost dismissive glance. “I guess some females are into that.”

And then you were gone.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Training couldn’t have come at a better time.

You needed to hit something—needed to feel that release. Not in a petty, frustrated way, like slamming your fist into a wall, but in the desperate, raw way that left you aching. It was the only way to escape your frustration and, maybe, remind yourself that you were still you, despite how Azriel made you feel.

And for a while, it worked.

Cassian had spent centuries mastering the language of battle, the unspoken rhythm of war. He could read the tension in a stance, spot when someone's body didn’t follow through with the mind’s intentions. He didn’t get enough credit for it, you thought, his ability to read someone without words. He was looking at you now, with that critical eye, head tilted slightly, like he was waiting for you to crack.

“Alright,” Cassian grunted as he parried another strike. “What’s on your mind?”

You ducked beneath his swing. “Nothing,” you said, deflecting the question with a swipe of your sword. Too fast, too aggressive.

Cassian dodged it easily, raising a brow. “Right. Because ‘nothing’ is exactly what makes you swing like you’re trying to decapitate me.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but you didn’t laugh. You weren’t in the mood for his teasing, no matter how good-natured it was.

“It’s nothing. Seriously.”

He rested the flat of his blade against his shoulder. “Come on, spit it out before you take my head off for real. I’ll pester you all day.”

You sighed, pacing a few steps away. He’d wait. He definitely would. And there wasn’t much point in pretending anymore—he clearly knew you weren’t fine. Continuing to train like this was useless when your head was so unfocused. Avoiding the topic wasn’t helping either. At this point, everyone knew what was going on. Hell, they all seemed more bothered by it than Azriel.

Still, you’d been dodging these conversations. Talking about it felt...stupid. Saying it out loud would make it real—all the messy, painful feelings you’d been shoving down would be out there, staring back at you like some pitiful mirror. Your conversation with Azriel this morning had only made your bitterness stronger.

But Cassian was watching you, expecting, and it was nice, in a way. Having someone care this much. Maybe it would be easier to talk to him. Mor had helped, sure, but her comfort recently came in the form of dragging Azriel through the dirt. It didn’t actually solve anything.

"It’s this stupid thing with Az," you muttered finally. "I’m starting to feel like he doesn’t actually care about me."

Cassian leaned on the hilt of his sword. “Well, that’s not true.”

You leveled him with a stare, your body tensing as a surge of frustration ran through you, hot and heavy. “It isn’t? He talked to me for the first time today and didn’t even apologize. Not properly. Just asked about Keir.”

Cassian’s expression softened. “He gets wrapped up in his own head about things. Probably just embarrassed, you know? Doesn’t know how to approach the situation.”

You’d run that possibility through your mind a hundred times. Mor had even said it herself. But it didn’t help with the ache, the anger. It was hard to believe your spymaster—so fearless, so eager to throw himself into the fire—was struggling to talk to a friend. Out of all the hard things Azriel had done, surely a simple apology wasn’t beyond him. You’d forgiven him for so much, had let things go because he was your friend. But you were tired of letting it go. He had the perfect opportunity to apologize, to properly acknowledge how he’d hurt you, and he hadn’t taken it.

“Embarrassed by what? Accusing his friend of something so absurd?”

Cassian tilted his head in subtle agreement, like he too thought the word absurd was right for the situation. “I think Az doesn’t want to be seen as...whatever he thinks people see him as. Like he’s incompetent in love. Or that he can’t handle his shit.” He rolled his shoulders, sighing. “He’s defensive. When he’s cornered, he reacts badly. It’s not about you, Y/n. You know that, right?”

You knew that. Of course you did. But it didn’t feel like a proper explanation this time. It didn’t feel like enough.

“But it feels like it is about me. He listened to her. He took her word, over mine." Your fists clenched involuntarily. "And the way he acted—like I wasn’t worth considering, like my opinion doesn’t matter. I’ve known him for centuries. She—" You paused, taking a breath, "She’s barely been in his life. And he immediately assumes that my care for him is because I just want something from him. That it’s some selfish, self-serving thing. His whole job is to see through lies, Cass. He didn’t even second-guess her.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t actually see it like that. He probably just reacted out of instinct. It’s Azriel, Y/n, he’s complicated. "

“Shit, Cass, way to play sides.”

Cassian sighed, stepping closer. “I’m not playing sides. I’m trying to help. Az makes stupid decisions. Half the time, I don’t think he even understands why. I don’t want you driving yourself crazy trying to figure it out. It’s not worth it.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” you snapped. “Just wait it out? Move on? That’s not happening.”

The words came out sharper than you intended, and guilt pricked at the edges of your conscience. This wasn’t Cassian’s fault—he didn’t have to ask, didn’t have to care. But lately, your anger over everything—over Az—felt like a thorn lodged so deeply under your skin that the irritation seeped into everything. You were struggling to control it.

It was a small blessing there weren’t any court matters to handle for the time being. Rhys was likely still preoccupied with Keir’s incessant whining about your last outburst.

Still, it felt like acid rising in your throat, a bitter burn you couldn’t swallow down, even as Cassian opened his mouth to respond. The words were spilling out of you before he could say anything.

“I’m not even mad about this one fight anymore,” you started, the grip on your sword slipping as your fingers unfurled. The blade clattered to the ground, the sound loud enough to make Cassian flinch. “It’s everything. All of it. He never apologizes for anything—have you noticed that? Like, ever. And I’ve let it slide because that’s just Azriel, right? Quiet, brooding Azriel, who’s somehow above—”

Cassian raised a palm out. “Alright, alright, stop,” he said. “You’re going to drive yourself crazy. It’s not worth it.”

You exhaled sharply, realizing you were halfway to a full-blown rant.

He stepped closer, giving you a knowing look. “Listen, you can’t force him to apologize properly. You just...can’t. You have to let him come to it on his own.”

Your teeth clenched. “I shouldn’t have to.”

Cassian sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I agree. Believe me, I agree. But until he figures his shit out, maybe we focus on what you can change.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. What else is bothering you?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “It would be easier to list what isn’t bothering me right now.”

Cassian tilted his head again, considering. “Does it bother you that Selene sees you as competition?”

You blew a strand of hair out of your face. Did it bother you?

Azriel had believed her instantly—disregarded you with a swiftness that stung. He’d accused you of selfishness, of something you’d never been with him. But Selene’s opinion of you, the thoughts she’d planted in his mind, those bothered you too. You hadn’t realized it until now.

She didn’t know you.

And yet, her words had curled under your skin, sitting heavy and raw, making you ache in a quiet, tired way. Worse, they’d made you overthink every interaction with Azriel since. You’d spent so much of your life trying to be the diplomat, choosing empathy even when it sucked—when it drained you. You wanted to like Selene—gods, you wanted to like the people Azriel cared for, even when it felt impossible. But she hadn’t even given you the time of day.

“I don’t like that I’ve been vilified somehow,” you admitted with a frown. “I don’t want to feel like I’m fighting for his attention or validation. It’s not like that.”

Cassian gave a small, knowing smile. “I know it’s not.”

“It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not.”

He paused, clearly mulling something over, then asked, “Do you want to hear what I think?”

You gave him a wary look. “I feel like you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Correct,” he said, grinning. Then he sobered. “Az aside...I think Selene’s reaction makes sense.”

You blinked at him, incredulous. Was he serious right now? A sharp heat rose in your chest. “Okay, well, that’s clearly choosing sides—”

“Hear me out,” Cassian said quickly. “I mean, look at you, Y/n. I’d be jealous of you too if I were her. You’re beautiful, smart, someone Azriel deeply cares for. Hell, I’d probably be a mess.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “So, because I’m so wonderful, I’m responsible for her insecurities?” you asked dryly, arching a brow.

Cassian shook his head. “No. What I’m saying is that this might be the one aspect of the situation you can change. The one thing you have control over. Maybe talking to her would help. Clear the air.”

You mulled over his suggestion. Maybe he had a point. Maybe talking to Selene would help. Not just to ease the tension, but to give Azriel room to come to you—to clear the air between you both. If you did this—if you took the first step—maybe he’d finally take you seriously. Apologize for dismissing you so easily, so carelessly. You could find a way to move on, comfortably, with Selene in his life. Right?

It wasn’t like the situation could get any worse.

"Okay," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "Yeah. Maybe I’ll talk to her."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Cassian was waiting for Azriel as he stepped out of the townhome, his massive frame leaning against the railing. One glance at the general was enough to confirm it: Cassian wasn’t there to exchange pleasantries. No—Cassian stood with his arms crossed, his wings partially flared, exuding the barely-contained anger Azriel recognized all too well.

“We need to talk,” Cassian said.

Azriel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He tightened his fists, shadows curling around them instinctively, obscuring his hands from view. Not now. Not tonight. He had no energy for this—not for Cassian’s righteousness or whatever lecture he’d come prepared to deliver.

“I’m not in the mood, Cass,” he said flatly, brushing past him.

“Too bad.” Cassian stepped into his path, blocking him with ease. “I didn’t endure an hour of Mor yelling at me for you to decide you can’t have a conversation.”

Azriel paused, his brow furrowing. “Why was Mor yelling at you?”

Cassian crossed his arms. “Because of you.”

“Great,” Az muttered. “What have I done now?”

“I gave Y/n some advice that, in hindsight, wasn’t great. Mor made the situation a lot clearer for me. Now I’m here to make sure you clean up your mess before anyone else slips.”

The mention of your name made Azriel’s chest ache in a way that felt too raw. He’d told himself he wouldn’t think about you tonight—not your voice, not your expression when he’d spoken to you this morning. But here was Cassian, dragging it all to the surface like a wound being forced open.

“I don’t think this is any of your concern,” Azriel said coldly, stepping around Cassian in a last-ditch effort to leave.

Cassian didn’t budge, spinning on his heel and following. “It is my concern because you’re my friend. And Y/n is my friend.”

Azriel could feel his shadows tighten their hold, whispering, urging him to end this. He wasn’t sure if they meant the conversation with Cassian or the situation entirely. Azriel could only control one of those.

“Cass, leave it alone,” he said, his voice low, barely masking the warning there.

“No,” Cassian responded immediately. “You did something shitty and you need to own up to it, Az.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened. “Sometimes friends fight,” he ground out. “Sometimes we get on each other’s nerves, like you’re getting on mine now. It’ll settle.”

“This isn’t going to ‘settle.’” Cassian’s voice rose. “You didn’t just get on her nerves—you offended her.”

The words hit harder than Azriel had anticipated.

“Because the idea of having feelings for me is so offensive? Am I that repulsive?”

The words slipped out before he could stop them, the question jagged, biting. He hadn’t meant to say that. He wasn’t sure where it had come from.

Cassian blinked, his anger giving way to confusion for a moment before his brow furrowed. “What the hell are you talking about? Don’t twist this into something it isn’t.”

Azriel’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of heat creeping up his neck. His outburst had come from nowhere, and now, Cassian’s eyes were full of confusion and something else—something close to pity. Azriel felt small under it, a flush of embarrassment prickling down his body. He wanted to look away, to escape.

He needed to leave.

Think later. Process later. Just get out of here.

Azriel squared his shoulders, forcing himself to meet Cassian’s gaze with as much indifference as he could muster. “Are you done now? Selene is waiting for me.”

Cassian stepped closer, his wings flaring in frustration. “Selene can deal with a few lost minutes of Azriel time. We’re talking.”

“No,” Azriel said, voice flat, his gaze turning icy. “You’re talking. I’m leaving.”

He moved to step past Cassian, but the larger male blocked him again.

“Is this some weird self-pity thing?” Cassian demanded, his tone growing sharper. “Thinking you’re not worth being forgiven so you don’t even try?”

Those words hit a nerve.

Azriel’s anger sparked instantly, snapping through his ribs like a whip. He couldn’t decide if it was directed at Cassian or himself. But Cassian didn’t understand. None of them did.

“Cass, just let it go.”

“No,” Cassian shot back. “You always do this. You make decisions that are selfish. You push people away because you think it’s easier, and it’s not. It’s bullshit.”

It wasn’t easier—it was never easier. But what was Azriel supposed to say? That it was better than risking more damage? That every decision he made, no matter how distant or cold, was the only way he knew how to protect the people he cared about?

“Cassian—”

The slap came out of nowhere.

Azriel’s head snapped to the side, his shadows scattering in shock before reforming around him. Slowly, he turned back to Cassian, his eyes blazing.

“What the hell was that?”

“Sorry,” Cassian said flatly. “Must’ve been the wind.”

Azriel’s lip curled. He opened his mouth to respond, but a second slap landed, harder this time.

“Would you stop that?” Azriel growled, his wings flaring slightly, the shadows around him vibrating with his tone. “Don’t touch me.”

Cassian stepped closer. “Why?” he asked, mockingly. “This is what you deserve, right? If you’re so terrible.”

The third slap was the breaking point.

Azriel’s fist flew, connecting with Cassian’s jaw in a blur of movement. The force sent Cassian stumbling back a step, but he recovered quickly, his retaliation swift—a sharp uppercut to Azriel’s ribs.

They fought like brothers—wild, messy. Not about technique, but about something else. Azriel wasn’t sure why Cassian needed this release, but he could feel it—the desperate need behind every punch. And Azriel… Azriel didn’t realize it at first, but he needed it too.

He was an Illyrian, no matter how many times he tried to convince himself otherwise. Fighting cleared his mind. Whatever Cassian was trying to achieve, whatever he needed to prove, it was working.

Azriel barely registered the sting of each hit. The ache in his ribs, the burn in his muscles—it all blurred into the same tight, unrelenting pressure in his chest. Like there was no room left for air, for thought, for the gnawing guilt that had dug its claws into him and refused to let go. Cassian tackled him to the ground, pinning him, both of them struggling for breath.

“This is stupid!”

“I agree,” Azriel spat, shoving him off. “Get off me.”

“No, you!” Cassian said, pushing himself to his feet. “You’re stupid.”

Azriel sat up slowly, chest heaving as his shadows curled protectively around him.

Cassian shook his head, wiping blood from his lip. “You’re better than this, Az. So be better and properly fuckin’ apologize. If not for you, for me—so my mate will stop glaring at me every time I say your name.”

Azriel’s gaze dropped to the ground, the weight of Cassian’s words sinking into him like a slow burn. His fists clenched at his sides, but he said nothing. Offered nothing.

Cassian didn’t stop. “Gods know Y/n has done enough for you. Put up with enough. We’ve all done shitty things. But you know what? You take the hit, you own it, and you try to be better. You can’t lead with self-loathing forever.”

Azriel sat there longer than necessary, long after Cassian had walked away. People passed by—some casting glances his way, most not bothering to look at all—but he didn’t move. Didn’t feel the flicker of shame he might’ve once felt at sitting there, bloodied and bruised, shadows curling restlessly around him.

The sting in his cheekbone from Cassian’s knuckles pulsed dully, but it wasn’t enough to distract him from the gnawing thoughts taking root.

Maybe it wasn’t the fear of you rejecting his apology that held him back. Maybe it was the fear that you wouldn’t.

That you’d accept it.

That somehow, he’d manage to make it up to you. That things would settle for a while, until he inevitably did something worse. Something irreparable.

He was terrified of succeeding—of pulling you back in, of you continuing to see something in him that he wasn’t. That you’d keep believing in this illusion, this version of him he’d somehow convinced you existed.

For centuries, it felt like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for the inevitable—waiting for you to see him as he truly was. And if he made this right, if you forgave him, it would only give him more time to fail you again.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You were walking without a proper destination in mind.

You’d never been to it, but Azriel had once mentioned that Selene worked at a flower shop near the Palace of Thread and Jewels. He’d first run into her on one of his free days, when he’d stopped by a few of his favorite parts in the city.

This area made sense. It was near his usual route, tucked away in a cozy corner of the city. As the scent of flowers suddenly enveloped you, you heard Selene’s unmistakable voice. Relief surged through you; you’d found the right place.

You thought back to your conversation with Cassian. You knew you weren’t in the wrong, that this current visit wasn’t expected of you. But it was something you could control. You’d wanted to get to know Selene better anyway. You prepared yourself, putting on a smile and stepping towards the door, but then—

“I mean, is he really worth all that effort?”

This was a voice you didn’t recognize. It curled around you, something about it making your stomach clench.

A small sigh. “Azriel?”

This time, the voice belonged to Selene. You froze, rooted to the spot. Any inclination to quit eavesdropping washed away at the sound of his name. You felt a tightness in your chest—an almost primal urge to run in there, to stop the conversation before it even began.

“Yeah,” the second voice pressed, “He’s a freak, Sel. Hot, sure, but a total freak. And so intense all the time.”

For a moment, there was silence. And then, Selene’s voice, almost reluctant, like she was holding back. “Well—”

Her friend interrupted. “And those shadows? Don’t they freak you out?”

A sound of disgust, maybe a shiver, followed her words. Something cold rushed through you, crawling beneath your skin, and for a moment, you didn’t know whether you wanted to shout or run. Or maybe both. Anger churned in your gut, and the calm, composed facade you’d been carefully maintaining on the walk here began to crack, slipping away piece by piece.

“Hey, knock it off,” Selene replied, her voice soft. “He surprises you. He’s sweet. He makes me happy.”

Her friend snorted. “Has it been an ego boost for you, then?”

“I mean, yeah,” Selene admitted quietly. “But that’s not all of it. Things with him actually aren’t… great right now. He canceled on me again tonight. I think it’s because he had some kind of fight with Y/n.”

The mention of your name stole the breath from your chest, and your body constricted almost involuntarily.

Her friend’s voice was full of disbelief as she asked, “He actually told you?”

“No,” Selene said softly, “I—I heard them. I feel really bad, but…”

The next sound was unmistakable—the sharp intake of breath from her friend, a squeal of sorts.

“Did you actually use the listening charm I gave you? You little min—”

Something snapped in you as the words registered. A listening charm. A strange, gross invasion of privacy. And to think you had felt bad standing here, eavesdropping on their conversation in a public store, of all places. You’d been this close to giving her the benefit of the doubt.

You stormed into the shop, the door slamming behind you, and both voices froze. You barely registered Selene’s friend’s wide-eyed realization, the quiet “Oh shit” leaving her lips as she turned toward Selene.

Your focus was on Selene—on her and no one else. She stood there, an image of calm beauty that twisted something deep inside you—a type of beauty that felt somehow wrong, as if it were too polished, too perfect, for the situation. Her dark hair framed her face, her delicate features still and pale as she stared at you. The color drained from her face the moment your gaze locked with hers.

“Do you want to explain what I just heard?” you asked, your voice tight, sharp, biting. “Or should I just tell you what I’ve gathered?”

Silence.

Her friend opened her mouth to protest, “I don’t think you have any right coming in here and—”

“I think this is a conversation for me and Selene,” you said coldly, not bothering to spare her a glance.

Selene blinked a few times before she turned her head and offered her friend a small, almost reluctant nod.

“You should go,” she told her quietly. “And put the closed sign on the door, please.”

Her friend hesitated, but with a final glance in your direction, she walked out, the soft click of the door behind her leaving the two of you alone. You didn’t miss the way she’d muttered under her breath as she left, a quiet but very clear “Bitch.”

“Y/n,” Selene said after another moment of silence, her voice tentative, like she was trying to find the right words. “I didn’t know that you were here.”

“Clearly.”

Selene’s movements were stiff, awkward as she fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, like she didn’t know what to do with her hands now that she was trapped in this uncomfortable moment. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t think that matters anymore,” you replied. “I asked you a question. I’d like to know what I just overheard.”

Selene’s ears flushed pink, a deep red that spread across her neck, as she took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You could feel your patience unraveling. Of course she didn’t know what to say. She’d been caught in the act. There was no excuse for this.

“You listened to us,” you snapped, the words bitter in your mouth. “You spied on Azriel. Do you just want to skip ahead to how you justify it?”

Her face paled, and for a moment, she looked younger—small, almost fragile. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“Oh please.” The frustration boiled over, flooding your veins with anger you hadn’t realized was possible. Anything you’d felt before this moment paled in comparison. You shouldn’t have asked her to explain. You already knew whatever she said would only make things worse, would only add fuel to the fire that was your growing irritation.

This is stupid. This is ridiculous. How did you get roped into this?

“I know it was wrong!” she said quickly, the words tumbling out. “I know, okay? I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have let Runa convince me it was a good idea. But I didn’t know what else to do.”

That had to be the worst excuse you’d ever heard. It wasn’t just the stupidity of it that pissed you off—it was the weakness of it, the desperation in her voice that made you want to scream. Azriel must be blind. Had he really been so wrapped up in whatever bubble he’d built around her that he couldn’t see the cracks? Was he so fucking love-blind that this—this—was what he was left with?

“What else to do? About what? Surely any other solution would have been better.”

She let out a deep sigh and her shoulders sagged with the motion. “I really like him, Y/n.”

You snorted, a sound of genuine amusement—more out of sheer disbelief than anything else. You couldn’t help it. “Alright,” you said, dismissing her with a wave of your hand, not buying it for a second. “Don’t start.”

“I do,” Selene said, her voice more insistent now. “I think I might even love him. But it’s hard.”

You shot her an unimpressed look.

Her voice was louder, more frantic, as she continued. “Azriel doesn’t talk about anything—anything real.”

You didn’t bother hiding the scoff. “Bullshit. Az talks. You just have to be patient. Communicate like a normal fucking partner.”

Her frustration flashed across her face, the defensive crossing of her arms only making her look more like a child. “Do you think I didn’t try that? He doesn’t tell me anything. Not really. He keeps everything locked up so tight—he barely even looks at me sometimes. What was I supposed to do?”

“Maybe not violate his privacy?”

“You don’t get it.” Her hands trembled as she gestured at you. “He doesn’t talk to me like he talks to you. Do you know what it’s like to be the one he’s supposed to care about but feel like you’re always on the outside? Like there’s this wall between us that I can’t get through, but somehow you can?”

You should’ve walked away then. The urge to just let her talk herself into a hole was strong. But you didn’t.

“You’ve been dating him for a few months,” you said, crossing your arms, your stance slightly defensive. “We’ve been friends for centuries. You can’t expect him to open up to you completely overnight.”

“That’s not the point!” she snapped, her voice rising, a crack of desperation leaking through. For a fleeting second, you almost felt bad for her. A tug of sympathy.

“Then what the hell is the point?” you demanded. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re just looking for someone to blame. And for some reason, that someone is me. Are you seriously trying to imply I'm somehow responsible for you spying on him?”

Selene flinched, but she didn’t back down. You had to give her credit for that. “No. I—I don’t know,” she mumbled, her hand tugging at her hair in jerky movements, like she was trying to yank the thoughts from her mind. “I panicked, okay? I didn’t think—I just… I didn’t want to lose him. I thought if I could figure out what was going on, maybe I could fix it. Maybe I could stop feeling like…”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m always on the outside. Like I’m never going to be enough.”

A part of you wanted to snap back at her, to remind her that this wasn’t a justification, that none of this made it okay. But something about her voice—broken, raw, like a crack that had been growing for too long—slowed your response. Your anger faltered.

“I know it’s insane,” she added, “I know it was wrong, and I feel awful about it. But I didn’t know what else to do. It feels like i’m competing with someone who’s known him longer, who gets to see parts of him I never will. How am I supposed to make space for myself?”

“Still not a good enough excuse,” you bit out. “You can’t just violate his privacy because you’re insecure.”

Selene took a deep breath and met your gaze. There was no fight in them anymore. “Please, just go. Run off and tell Azriel everything. I know you’re probably excited to.”

Her words stung more than they should have.

“Why do you say it like that?” you asked, “Like I’m thrilled to ruin your relationship?”

Selene’s eyes flickered with something sharp. “Aren’t you?”

For a second, you almost wished you could be. Almost.

“No,” you said firmly. “I would never do that to Azriel. I’m not your competition. I’m his friend. I came here to give you the benefit of the doubt because I wanted you two to be happy. But this? This is…” You trailed off, unable to even finish the thought, because it was too much—everything about it felt wrong.

“Crazy?” Selene finished bitterly, shaking her head. “Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know how it looks. But like I said, you don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to care about someone so much that you start losing sight of yourself. I think about him, about how much I care about him, and all my instincts go out the window. ”

Selene had always existed a certain way in your mind.

Azriel had seemed lighter when he first mentioned her, a softness in his voice that you hadn’t heard in years. And you’d been happy for him—thrilled, even, at the idea of someone bringing him a bit of joy. You’d wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, wanted to believe that she could be good for him. You were excited to meet her.

But then Az started to change.

The more he changed, the more Selene shifted in your mind, too. She became untouchable, an image conjured more from your worry than from anything real. You imagined her as someone clingy, someone who demanded all of his attention and made him forget the people who loved him first. Someone full of herself, reveling in the power she had over him.

And then you’d met her.

She wasn’t what you’d expected—though not in the way that might have changed your mind. She wasn’t warm or open, wasn’t eager to charm or connect with Azriel’s family. Instead, she’d clung to him like a second skin, her hands always on his arm, her smile reserved only for him. And maybe it was unfair, but you hadn’t liked the way she’d looked at you, hadn’t liked the guarded, wary edge to her voice when she spoke.

You’d trusted your gut, let it guide you through the uncertainty. And when things fell apart—when the argument between you and Az finally erupted—Selene’s image had shifted again.

She became a villain in your mind, a figure painted in sharp, unforgiving lines. It was easier that way. Easier to picture her whispering in Azriel’s ear, twisting his thoughts, pulling him further away from you. You’d built her into someone cruel, someone who reveled in the divide she’d caused.

But now, standing before her, you saw something else entirely.

Selene didn’t look cruel. She didn’t look smug or victorious. If anything, she looked fragile. There was an unease in her posture, a vulnerability in the way her hands fidgeted at her sides. The guardedness was still there, but it felt more like armor than arrogance.

And for the first time, you questioned how much of the image you’d built of her was real—and how much of it was your own fear, your own concern for Azriel, projected onto her.

“Why did you tell Azriel that I had feelings for him?”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you weren’t sure where they came from—but somehow, they lifted a deep weight off your chest.

Her brows furrowed, genuine confusion crossing her face. "What?"

“Why did you tell him that you thought I had feelings for him?”

“I wanted to see what he’d do,” she admitted.

Disbelief tightened in your chest. “So you lied to him for fun?”

She shook her head. “No I didn’t.”

“Yes,” you said, the word bitten out, “You told him I had feelings for him.”

“Because you do,” she answered, as though it were the simplest thing in the world, like she understood your feelings better than you did. And for a second—a stupid, fleeting second—you almost believed her.

Selene’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know what a female in love with him looks like,” she said quietly, her voice soft in a way it wasn’t before. “I see it every day when I look in the mirror.”

Something inside you twisted painfully, a knot of emotions you couldn’t untangle fast enough. You focused on the irritation.

“Am I wrong?” she continued. “Is he the best part of your day? Do you look forward to talking to him? Can you tell him things you’d never tell anyone else? Do you save bits of good food just so he can try it?”

Your throat felt tight, the words stuck somewhere between anger and disbelief. How had this conversation managed to spin so completely?

The breath you took felt jagged, like your lungs couldn’t quite expand all the way. “That’s not true,” you said. “Azriel and I… We’re friends. That’s all. We’ve been friends for centuries. That’s just—what happens when you’ve known someone that long.”

For a moment, you thought she might apologize, or at least reconsider. Her expression faltered, but instead, she just stared at you.

“Do you really believe that?”

When you didn’t reply, Selene blinked, cleared her throat, and turned away from you, leaning against the counter with a sigh. “This is so pathetic,” she muttered, her voice tinged with bitter amusement. “I’m standing here, basically pushing you to him.”

A sigh slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You hesitated, torn between frustration and a strange sympathy. Against every instinct telling you to be petty, a part of you felt bad for her. She cared about Azriel. Deeply. You were certain of it— unsure of how you knew, but you were certain nonetheless. There was no malice in her voice, just insecurity and raw, unspoken fear.

You hated that you could sense it, but you couldn't ignore it either. You could almost hear Amren in your ear, urging you to walk away, and Mor's voice reminding you that Selene didn’t deserve your kindness. But somehow, you couldn't bring yourself to leave. If Azriel saw something worth loving in Selene, maybe you did too.

“Okay, well, don’t do that,” you muttered, taking a step closer. The urge to comfort her was almost overwhelming—to show her that maybe she could learn and grow from this. “You need to talk to Az, Selene. Just sit down, be open—”

“Stop. Don’t be nice to me,” she snapped, spinning to face you. Her voice was sharp.

She moved as if to push you away, but hadn’t realized how close you’d stepped. The edge of her bracelet caught your cheek, and the sharp sting of metal cut straight through it.

Selene froze, her eyes widening as she took in the line of blood blooming on your cheek. “Oh my gods,” she whispered, her hands hovering uselessly. “I—I didn’t mean—”

You stepped back further, your hand still on your cheek, blood warm against your fingertips.

This seemed about right, you thought bitterly to yourself. This is what happens when you try to be the bigger person. You were gonna kill Cassian. You were going to wring his godsdamned neck.

Selene’s voice became a rush of apologies, each one more frantic than the last, but your attention was already slipping away. Your gaze fell to the bracelet on her wrist. The metal gleamed, twisting slightly with every motion of her hand. You recognized it instantly.

Azriel had a similar one in his room. On his dresser.

“Is that how you did it?” you asked, pointing to her wrist.

Selene’s face drained of color, guilt flooding her expression. She nodded slowly, her hands shaking as she removed the bracelet and held it out to you, eyes wide and full of regret.

You took it from her fingers and, just for a moment, you almost let yourself fall back into the anger, the hurt. But you didn’t. You exhaled slowly, steadying yourself before shaking your head.

“I’m sorry,” Selene whispered, voice breaking. “I really am. I was— I was just desperate. And Runa kept pushing, and—”

You cut her off with a sharp shake of your head, locking eyes with her. Her voice faded, but it didn’t matter anymore. “You’re not terrible, Selene. But you have terrible friends.”

You turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back over your shoulder. “I suggest you find new ones.”

You tried to steady yourself as you stepped into the bustling streets of Velaris. The bracelet in your hand was cold against your palm, and the sting of the cut on your cheek throbbed with each beat of your pulse. Everything inside you felt scrambled—emotions tangled, confusion still clouding your mind.

The shuffle of footsteps broke through your fog. You looked up, just in time to hear a sharp voice.

“Ouch, that looks like it stung.” A small chuckle. “Although I’m sure you’re excited to have a reason for the Shadowsinger to tend to you.”

You scanned her. “Runa, right?”

She smirked, crossing her arms. “Yeah, that's me.”

Without hesitation, you found yourself saying, “You gave your friend some hurtful advice.”

Runa shrugged nonchalantly, almost amused. “Oops.”

You held your tongue for a moment, your irritation intensifying the longer you looked at her. Unlike Selene, who had managed to evoke some sympathy, Runa didn’t even come close. She shifted, as if waiting for you to bite.

The silence stretched before she finally broke it with a snide laugh. “Honestly, Selene’s better off without that freak of a boyfriend. She doesn’t need to be wrapped up with shitty court politicians.”

Something in you snapped. Maybe it was the words, maybe it was the whirlwind of emotions from the last half hour, but your patience with her was gone. You inhaled sharply, trying to steady your temper, and placed the bracelet in your pocket.

“Do you know who I am?”

Runa raised an eyebrow, the slightest trace of mockery in her smile. “Uh, yeah. You're an emissary or something, right?” She waved her hand dismissively, as if it didn’t matter.

You closed the distance between you in a few long strides. “Good,” you said, letting the word settle in the air. “I want you to remember that when you report.”

Runa looked confused, her smug attitude faltering. “Report what?”

You smiled. And then you punched her in the face.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

authors note: fun fact, this was the 6th draft of this!! and this felt like the way to go with the story....gives me some options to exploree. its also so long bc i wanted to keep all the fun scenes together tehehe sorry yall i got carried away

but selene....selene...selene... how i thought about her for a bit. i wanted to avoid making selene a caricature of a soulless mean jealous girl, i think it makes it somehow worse and even better to write knowing she was just incredibly insecure and misguided by people she trusted...doesn’t make anythinggg she did okay but

we out here rly testing our reader with a selene like villain rn. tehehe

also....time to imagine rhys holding nyx on his lap as he tells reader that shes in trouble for fighting a citizen in the open mf streets. rhys was so smug and now he’s like damn…wait a min… our public imagine SUCKSS

thank you for reading!!<3

permanent tag list 🫶🏻:

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon @glam-targaryen

@cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg @evergreenlark

@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@feyretopia @ninthcircleofprythian @azrielrot @justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli

@mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound @melissat1254 @secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey @inkedinshadows @mellowmusings

@paankhaleyaaar @curiosandcourioser @thisrandombitch @casiiopea2 @w0nderw0manly

@rottenroyalebooks @jurdanpotter @casiiopea2

#im so proud of yn omg #like yass girl we love a girls girl 🥹#azriel <3 #fic recs <3

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nativegirltapes · 22 hours ago

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. . . the one where tp!mom finds out about odessa

warnings/notes: not sure if this is cringe or what, also i don’t mean to make odessa the enemy with every !reader but … it just makes sense lol. anyways, odessa is an actual bitch in this, reader is forgiving (hope yall don’t hate me idk), drew yapping at the end. happy silly ending ig, also i literally get right to the plot so sorry for no backstory.

you and drew were fighting over if a hotdog was sandwich or not, he swore it was, but you weren't buying his claim, at all. "fine! i'll look it up!" you grabbed drew's phone off your nightstand since it was closest, a smirk on your face, he really thought he'd be right?

your smile dropped when you seen an imessage notification from a person named "odessa" and the message read 'don't come running back to me when you realize she doesn't have SHIT to offer you. bye drew.' you weren't the instigator type, you hated causing issues, but that message had to be about you, who else would it be about? curiously, you couldn't help but click on it, drew had never mentioned anyone named odessa. upon clicking on it, you didn't know how to feel.

you shut his phone, " sooo, what's the word?" he chuckled. you threw his phone on the open bed in front of you, you'd been through this too many times to let it happen again and you learned it's best to bring up issues before it gets even worse. "who's odessa?" you asked shamelessly, it wasn't in any specific negative tone or upset tone, but it wasn't exactly in a positive tone either. "shit," drew huffed. "she's still blowing up my phone?"

"who is she?" you repeated yourself, this time some anger was showing. drew dropped everything he was doing and sat next to you on the bed, he didn't see a point in lying and trying to make you feel like you didn't see what you very clearly saw; that's why you liked him. he didn't bullshit, and neither did you. "her and i were thing." he rubbed his head, you hadn't ever seen him this anxious before. "but we're over, i swear."

"she doesn't seem to think so." you added, fiddling with your fingers. you trusted drew though, not once did he ever make you feel less than, ever. you hated even letting your mind go there, you both had invested too much into each other's lives and even thinking about not being with him made you physically sick. he had practically adopted the father role in your babies life, if he were to leave you don't think you ever let a man get as close to you as he has.

"i know." drew sighed, he didn't really have an excuse as to why he was still texting her. it wasn't like he was saying anything bad or hurtful about you or towards you, but it still hurt to think that a conversation was going on like that behind your back. "i'm sorry, seriously." drew rubbed your thigh. "i'm serious about you and baby, you're both the best thing that's ever happened to me, and i'm not just saying that."

"her and i are done. we've been done." he continued. "the night i met you i knew, i knew i wanted you. i literally wouldn't shut up about you to my friends. i want you, i want baby, you know i'd do anything anything for you two. i'm sorry y/n." he pulled you into his chest, you melted at his touch. "i mean you did kind of clock her." you giggled.

"clocked her?"

#⊹₊ works ⋆#⊹₊ fics ⋆#꒰ ⌗ trailerpark!mom!reader ♡ ꒱#drew starkey #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey headcanons

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genderqueerdykes · 3 days ago

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I saw a post fairly recently about how trans men can't reclaim the t slur because it's not directed at them. Trans mascs rightfully got in the comments and called them out for it, talking about their own experiences with getting called. Op clapped back with "think about when the average person here's the term they're thinking of a trans fem stereotype."

A piece of me wishes I could've snapped back with, "the same could be said about the word trans itself." I've met far too many people who are hateful talk about how it's so interesting that "men want to be women" but it's not the other way around. Never mind the fact that I a trans man who lives stealth was sitting next to them. Trans men are so far removed from the conversation that by that logic Trans doesn't belong to Trans men/mascs because the average person is going think of trans women a majority of the time unless they are active in the queer community or have a loved one who's a trans man.

yeah that's bullshit because trans men get called ugly tranny dykes literally all the time. people are so proud to admit they've never once tried to look into transmasculinity and transmasculine history period. like i'm calling people out on their shit. you know nothing about transmasc, trans male and butch history if you seriously think we're not affected by tranny. we're also tranny fags to others. we constantly get called tranny faggots. i'm not sure why people think transness only applies to transfeminine people. like. people DO catch on to the fact that transmasculine people are on hormones sometimes or are presenting as men and call us trannies.

like once people do catch on to the fact that there are transmasculine people and trans men, they call us trannies all the same. it also affects trans men and mascs who are perceived as trans women and transfems. it affects intersex people. it affects nonbinary people. it affects genderqueer people. it affects drag kings

I've met far too many people who are hateful talk about how it's so interesting that "men want to be women" but it's not the other way around. Never mind the fact that I a trans man who lives stealth was sitting next to them.

say it. it's just way too common. that's how uninformed cishet people view transness and i don't know why we're propagating it inside of our own community. some people want to control the narrative so bad, it makes me wonder if the reason people are attempting to silence transmascs is literally for that exact purpose. like transness comes in multiple forms.

testosterone is also a hormone. HRT is not synonymous with estrogens. changing your body with testosterone is transsexuality/transness. masculinizing is transness. presenting as a man is transness. we have to stop associating trans with purely feminine. this leaves out SO many butch trans women. so many masc and genderfluid trans women. it leaves out so many people on all sides.

there's not one way to be trans. trans men still face transphobia, and yes, including transphobia unique to transmasculine experiences and those interpreted to be transmasc.

the trans community is not the trans woman/transfemme community. that is the trans woman/transfemme community. those communities are plentiful and right there.

we have to let go of whatever this control freak desire is to shut other people out but it's not hurting us to exist alongside other people and not police their language. you're not literally being harmed by being exposed to transmasculinity and trans manhood. can we as trans women and transfems exist alongside other trans people WITHOUT telling them what they do and don't experience, and policing their language.

this is so old. stop it. there's no reason to be this hostile. we don't own transness. it's a diverse spectrum. you're literally holding yourself back by feeling this way. it's not helping you toward feeling comfortable as a trans woman. you're making your entire life about your suffering and nothing else. you're not more legitimately trans than other people because you're very oppressed. transness is not on a scale of least to most oppressed in terms of legitimacy. let go. liberate yourself.

#asks #answers #transandrophobia #examples of transandrophobia

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darthtaoshay · 3 days ago

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₊˚⊹♡ His First

Virgin!Anakin Skywalker/F!Reader

₊˚⊹♡Warning(s): NSFW(18+ ONLY|MDNI), Unprotected Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Nipple Play(On Anakin and Reader), Vanilla Sex, Whiny!Virgin!Anakin(He's honestly kinda subby), Spit as Lube, Very Light Dirty Talk, Creampie, and Slight Aftercare.

Summary: Anakin, your best friend, complains to you about the constant brags from the Clones. They constantly talk and gloat about the sex they have had while on Coruscant, but Anakin isn't able to offer his own stories due to him being a virgin.

AO3 Link

WC:3372

The quiet huff of laughter that you give is enough for Anakin to lift his head from his arms to glare at you. It’s not that you are trying to be mean about the situation, it’s just you never thought Anakin would be so upset about his men on the 501 having sex while on Coruscant. It’s not like they have been caught with the people in their barracks or have had any complaints made. You can’t wrap your head around why Anakin was so exasperated by the gloating his men do on occasions.

“I am confused, that’s all.” You say with a soft smile.

“Confused about what?” His voice is muffled as he buries his head into his arms again.

“Why it bothers you so much that the boys are sleeping around. It’s not like they let it affect their focus on the field or anything so why stress?” You tilt your head as you hear his muffled voice get quieter. “Anakin, I can’t hear you.”

“It’s not that…”

“Then what is it, Ani?”

He gives a heavy sigh as he lifts his head and gives you a deadpan look, “I’m jealous.” Before you could ask, he keeps talking. “I’m jealous that they have all these stories to share and I don’t have any to share.”

“So you feel left out during locker-room talk?” You tease before growing sincere. “Ani, who cares if you can’t share anything during sex conversations.”

“I care!”

“Then go get laid!”

“I can’t just go fuck a random person!” He declared loudly back before gasping and giving you a large grin. “You should sleep with me!”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because we are best friends and best friends help each other out.”

“Yeah… With helping them move or with planning a party.”

Anakin shrugs, “I don’t need to move or plan a party so you can help me with this.”

“I am not sleeping with you, Anakin!”

“Why not?”

You struggle to find what to exactly say, different noises and words leaving your mouth along with the occasional scoff. The issue is that you really don’t know why you shouldn’t but it just feels like you should most likely NOT sleep with your best friend and fellow Jedi Knight. To make it worse, the smug look on Anakin’s face tells you that he already knows he won the argument.

“Why me?” You ask instead of giving some bullshit excuse.

“You’re my closest friend. I’m comfortable and trust you with something like this. I get that sure, it’s just sex but I don’t want it to be someone random.” He interrupts you as you go to speak, “don’t act like you’ve never had a “no-strings attached” sex before.”

As you two stare at each other, you can’t argue with his reason. You have had a little bit of a friends with benefits relationship with someone before, you never told him who but you’ve told him about it… You aren’t sure how he would react if he knew it was Commander Wolffe, given this all spawned because of similar men bragging about their sexcapades. Besides, Anakin isn’t hard on the eyes and it's been a while since the last time you’ve slept with someone.

“Okay, I’ll take your virginity.” You say with a teasing grin.

“You really had to say it like that?”

“Hey, I’m doing you a favor! It’s only fair that I tease you a little.”

Anakin rolls his eyes before an eager look appears on his face, “so do we start now?”

Looking towards the clock on the wall of his room on the ship, you guys have time before you land planet side. Now that you think of it, it has only been an hour since you, Anakin, and both your platoons had boarded the ship so you have plenty of time.

“We do have the time,” you say coyly

Anakin smiles before sitting up right on his bed that you two were chatting on, this lets him be side by side with you. It feels very Padawan-like, sitting on the bed both with your legs crossed and leaning sideways towards each other to have your first kiss. You almost feel like if you are too loud, both your masters might barge in and catch you doing something you KNOW you shouldn’t. However, it all leaves your mind as Anakin presses his lips against yours softly, testing the waters before he tries anything more.

You press your lips against Anakin’s more firmly while your hand comes up to cradle the side of his jaw. As the kiss between the two of you grows to be more passionate, tongues teasing one another, Anakin leans forward and gently nudges you to start laying back. The bed sinks beside your head more as he puts his weight onto his hands while hovering above you at an awkward angle. Grabbing onto his hips, you tug at him to try and bring him fully on top of you. Anakin gets the hint and moves one of his knees between your legs, having you spread your legs with him between them.

Anakin pulls away from your lips and breathlessly says your name, only for you to give a quiet hum for him to continue speaking. “Can I keep going?”

You give him a smile before nodding your head, only to gasp as he dives into your neck. His lips are warm and slightly wet from your shared spit, sending a pleasant shiver through your body. You tilt your head to the side, letting Anakin lavish your neck with kisses, bites, and licks as you slide your hand up his nightshirt. Anakin’s stomach tenses as your hands gently explore his skin, thumbing over various scars, blemishes before riding up the bumps of his abs. A grin grows on your face as you feel the subtle twitch of his hips as you grow closer to his nipples.

“Is this okay?” You ask while giving his right nipple a feather-like brush with the tips of your finger.

Anakin gives a whine as he nods his head, pressing his chest against your hands while his lips move from one side of your neck to the other. You tilt your head to the other side and start to play with his nipples. One hand pinches the hardened bud and the other is kinder while gently rubbing the bud in circles. Anakin’s hips start to thrust forward in small movements before he ends up thrusting against your clothed cunt.

The muffled ‘oh’ that leaves Anakin makes you freeze for a moment but you don’t have time to ask the question that has now entered your mind as he starts to grind his clothed bulge against you. It takes only a few moments of the slow dry humping before Anakin starts to move his kisses down your neck. He gets to the neckline of your own nightshirt and pulls away to look up at you, silently asking for permission to take it off. The shirt is removed before you can finish nodding, giving the fellow Jedi a clear view of your bare chest as you bring your arms back to rub his sides gently.

Anakin has SEEN a nude woman before but not in a situation like this. Not when he is able, is expected, to touch, lick, and indulge himself on the warm skin. His eyes flick up to see your face, only to have your curious eyes looking back at him. You smile softly as you see his cheeks start to turn red, making him become bashful. He quickly looks back down to your breast, his eyes bouncing between the two as if to decide on which he wants to toy with first.

The decision is quickly made as he moves his body lower to get his lips around your left nipple. A sigh leaves your mouth as you tilt your head back, your fingers threading through his hair. You are surprised by how gentle he is, knowing how hot headed the man can be, but he gives soft sucks and light licks to your sensitive nipple. Anakin is still giving slight grinds against your legs as he moves between each nipple. His time with your chest is shorter than you thought it would be as he is already kissing down your stomach towards the hem of your sleep trousers.

“Are you sure about this?” Anakin asks while looking up at you through his lashes as he rubs his bottom lip along the waistline of your trousers.

“Of course, Ani.”

You lift your hips up as Anakin tugs on your trousers, letting him get you completely naked. Anakin tosses the piece of clothing to the side and sits back on his hunches, drinking in your form for a moment. His eyes meet yours for a moment before looking back down once you nod, his body moving even lower on the bed so he is faced with your cunt. Again, Anakin has SEEN a vagina before… In adult videos but never in-person.

Taking a deep breath, he moves to gently pet your wet slit and watches as he sees you give a small clench. Anakin uses his thumbs to spread you open, letting him see you fully. He swallows thickly as he brings one of his thumbs over to rub shyly at your clit. You give a soft sigh at the small burst of pleasure you feel from his touch. While you would love for him to be more firm, you stay still to let Anakin explore as he wants.

Anakin decides that he is ready to move forward, sliding his thumb down from your clit to your opening. He teases your entrance for a moment before moving to slowly slide his index finger into your pussy. His eyes stay on your face this time as he begins to move his one finger in and out of your warmth quicker, making sure you are enjoying everything.

“You can add another,” you say breathlessly. While his finger is barely a stretch for you, you are still struggling to control your breathing as his touches are unconsciously teasing.

Your head falls back against the pillow as he pushes another finger into your cunt, finally feeling a bit of fullness. Anakin stays with his slow pace as he moves his two fingers in and out, however he moves his thumb to start rubbing at your clit once again. The rolling of your hips lets him know that he can add another finger, finally getting you ready for his cock.

After a few minutes of his three fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt and his thumb growing firmer and quicker on your clit, Anakin looks up at your face again with wide eyes. “Do you think you’re ready for my cock?”

His question shouldn’t make you clench or whine the way you do but you can’t help the pleasure that zaps through you at his words. Anakin, easily sensing that you liked that, moves his fingers in and out of your cunt quicker as he waits for your answer.

“Don’t you want like a blowjo-” a whine from Anakin cuts off your question.

“Won’t last.” He gives a strained chuckle, “feeling your pussy on my fingers has me so close already. The second you wrap those pretty lips around me, I’ll be cumming.” Anakin moves up to nuzzle his nose against your cheek as he keeps fucking you with his fingers. “Please let me fuck you.”

“Okay, Ani. You,” your eyes flutter as Anakin presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, “you can fuck me now.”

Anakin is quick to move his lips to your own, kissing you sloppily as he slowly pulls out his fingers from your aching pussy. You tug on his bottom lip with your teeth as he leans back to start to work off his clothing. Noticing that his eyes are staying on your own naked body, you decide to be a bit of a tease. With a soft smile, you bring your left hand up to cup your left breast, your fingers pinching and rubbing at your nipple while your right hand reaches down to rub slow circles on your clit.

The moan that leaves Anakin’s mouth sounds pained as he moves quicker, his need to sink his cock into a cunt for the first time becoming too much. You feel your stomach flip as you see his cock for the first time, your cunt clenching as you give a breathy moan. Anakin spits in his hand before wrapping it around his aching flushed cock. Both of you watch the other as you pleasure yourselves while Anakin slicks himself up.

A shocked noise leaves you as Anakin suddenly lets go of his cock and leans back over you, bringing one of your ankles to hang over his shoulder as he holds himself over you with a hand beside your head. Anakin uses his other hand to bring his tip to your pussy, slowly circling against you as your wetness leaks more. He tilts his head as he plays with your entrance with his cock; one moment pinching your pussy lips together while sliding his cock up and down your slit, the next rubbing your clit with his tip in quick swipes, then dipping his tip inside your weeping cunt before pulling back.

“Anakin, please.” You arch your back as you try to press down onto his cock.

The other Jedi’s eyes snap up to yours with a look of shock, as if he didn’t even realize he was basically tormenting you. He mumbles his sorrys as he finally starts to push his cock inside of your warmth. Your mouth drops open as he keeps pushing forward, the burn of his cock stretching you making your moan come out choked. Anakin’s eyes are stuck on the way your pussy is swallowing his cock, his hand on the bed squeezing harder and his now free hand gripping your waist.

A slight wince leaves you as he goes further than his fingers did, making his eyes jump back to your face. Before you can tell him it’s okay, Anakin stops moving, now scared that he is hurting you.

“It’s okay,” you can see he doesn’t fully believe you, making you give him a sultry smile. “You’re just so big, Ani.” His cock twitches inside you at your words, “please keep moving. Want it all inside me.”

The arm beside your head trembles slightly as Anakin starts to move once more, finally pushing the rest of his cock into your pussy. You bite back a whine as he stills again with his cock nestled into your tight warm cunt for the first time. A whimper does end up leaving your mouth as it fully dawns on you; this is the first pussy Anakin has ever been in. Your pussy, is the first pussy Anakin Skywalker has ever been in and for some reason it has your skin burning.

“Ani?” His response is a choked noise, making you clench around him tighter. “How does your first pussy feel?”

Anakin drops his head to rest beside yours, his forehead digging into the pillow as he gives a loud whiny moan. Your hands come up to grip onto his back as you feel a small tremors of pleasure run through you from his pelvis grinding against your clit as he moves.

“So good, so fucking good.”

You gasp as he starts to pull his hips back, dragging his cock against your aching walls before pushing forward to fill you back up. Anakin tightens his grip on your hip as he continues with the slow pace of back and forth thrusts. It feels good, amazing even, but you know that you won’t be able to cum from such a gentle pace.

Turning your head, you rub your lips against the shell of his ear as he keeps his face on your shoulder. “Go faster, Ani, please fuck me faster. It’ll feel so good, baby.”

Anakin nods against your shoulder, his lips pressing a kiss there as he starts to thrust his hips back and forth quicker, making his cock fuck into your cunt faster. The room quickly fills with only moans, whines, the squelch of your wetness, and the dull slapping of your skin against Anakins. Your arms fall away as Anakin finally rises to rest on his knees, both of his hands gripping your hips now as he pulls you forward to meet his thrusts.

The sight of your tits bouncing with his thrusts has Anakin starting to fuck into your harder, making you grip his wrists to keep you grounded. Both of you are buzzing with pleasure as you two get closer to your releases. It’s clear to you that Anakin is closer than you, his cock twitching more often inside of your pussy and his thrusts are erratic as they simply chase his end.

“Are you close, Ani?” You ask in a whiny moan. “Are you going to cum in my pussy? Gonna fill a pussy up for the first time?”

Anakin gives a loud whine as he leans back over you, bringing both his arms to rest on his elbows above you. His lips quickly press against yours for a filthy kiss, his hips moving in short quick movements as you lick into his mouth. One of your hands moves down to rub at your clit in fast and firm strokes and your other hand grabs Anakin’s hip, trying to pull him into your harder. Anakin’s arms close in closer to your head as you two stay making out, his balls tightening against you as he grinds deep inside of your cunt.

A loud moan leaves Anakin as his lips as his body tense with his orgasm, his mouth sliding wetly across your cheek as his hips give slight thrusts against you as his cock throbs inside of you. All it takes is the feeling of his cum being released into your pussy as you rub your clit for you to fall over the edge. Your moan is choked as you pulse around Anakin’s still throbbing cock, your hips bucking up against his pelvis.

Anakin’s nose is pressed into the sweaty sticky skin under your ear, surrounded by the comforting scent of simply you. Your hands are gently rubbing up and down his clammy sides as you both breath through the intense aftershocks of your releases.

“Are you okay?” Anakin’s voice sounds hoarse as he moves up to be face to face with you.

You nod, “I’m great. Are you okay?” Your hand comes up to cradle his cheek.

“I’m…” He still looks a bit floaty. “I’m good. I just wasn’t expecting it to be so.. Tense?”

You give him a soft hum, letting him know that you know what he means. The two of you keep giving each other soft pets and gentle words as you wait for you to both feel all parts of your body. Once you both feel yourselves, Anakin pulls out of your sore pussy with a choked whimper.

“Sorry, sorry.” He whispers as he sees the grimace on your face.

“It’s okay.”

Anakin finally lays beside you, his arms coming to pull you close to him for a cuddle. You wrap your legs around his as you settle in next to his sticky body, knowing you are just as clammy feeling. The exhaustion of everything starts to come over you as Anakin’s fingers give you feather-like touches up and down your back.

“We need to shower and be ready for landing here soon,” you mumble sleepily against his collarbone.

“I know, I’ve set an alert just now to give us enough time. Just rest for now.”

Anakin turns off the last light in the room as you two doze off, bodies still pleasantly loose and spent. The thought of Anakin sharing what happened between you two to his troops sends a little pleasant shiver through you, which the other Jedi takes as you being cold and pulls you closer to him. Maybe you two can continue to give him things to share as well during the boytalk the troops have.

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars smut #star wars x reader #jordys work

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