#i passed out in the middle of doing this yesterday so i just wanted to get it posted today <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[starshideurfics]

Ring my bell - part 8

part one…part seven

steddie, omegaverse, flagging/signaling culture, there’s plot now, in the smut, mdni 🔞

After everything he’s heard in the past hour, Eddie is surprised he hasn’t thrown up. A girl he talked to yesterday is dead, in apparently the most horrific way, and the government did a bunch of alternate dimension experiments that fucking worked? It’s absolutely insane.

And yet, all his little twerps are more thrown by the fact that he’s dating Steve.

But they’re more focused on Max now, Dustin digging through the medicine cabinet to look for aspirin, Lucas asking if she’s hungry. Nancy has the notepad from by the phone, making a list of her own questions, while Robin and Steve have an argument with their eyes.

Eddie’s mostly trying to shut it out, give his head time to calm down, sitting on the couch with his knee shaking as Steve stands in front of him. Eddie not-so-discreetly grounds himself with his omega’s scent, face pressed to Steve’s belly, arms around his middle. Steve is playing with his hair, fingers massaging Eddie’s scalp, making a little of his tension melt away.

That doesn’t stop him from startling when Nancy barks, “Okay, break’s over, circle up!” It also doesn’t stop Eddie from tugging Steve down into his lap, needing him close. Robin rolls her eyes, and Dustin gawps for a long moment, but Nancy barrels ahead.

“Okay, let’s start with what we know so far: Chrissy had a regular appointment with Ms. Kelly, Max would pass her on her way out each week. Chrissy was jumpy and anxious, which led to her buying weed from Eddie; she asked for something stronger to help with sleep, but Eddie only sold her weed.”

“I told her to see if she could get her hands on Xanax,” Eddie blurts. He flinches, waits for a scolding or questions, but everyone takes it in stride. Nancy even makes note of it with a nod.

“She may have found Xanax on her own. Chrissy went to the basketball team’s post-game party with Jason Carver, they argued, and Chrissy went off on her own to cool off. No one that we know of saw Chrissy again before the next morning, but Chase saw lights flicker around one in the morning. Jason found Chrissy this morning with all of her limbs broken and bloody eyes.” Nancy pauses and takes a breath. “Is there anything else we know about Chrissy in the past couple of days? Or anything else that might be related to the Upside-Down?”

Max has a hand over her eyes when she speaks up, “Chrissy was crying in the girls’ bathroom yesterday.”

“Did you talk to her?” Robin asks as Nancy writes that down.

“Just asked if she was okay, she brushed it off… It sounded like she might have been puking when I was coming in…”

“Oh,” Steve murmurs, shaking his head sadly.

“Was she sick?” Dustin asks, “What does that have to do with the Upside-Down? Like how feverish people were getting when-”

“She was probably making herself puke,” Lucas interrupts. When everyone just stares at him, he adds, “My cousin got hospitalized last summer for bulimia and my aunt is a talker.”

“Okay, we can’t really speculate on why, but Chrissy was puking in the bathroom,” Nancy says, adding to her notes.

“But that’s part of why they were fighting, Chrissy and Jason. He was trying to get her to drink, she said that she didn’t need the extra calories, and Jason shoved a beer at her and spilled some of it on her.”

“Jesus,” Steve sighs, “Even without the weird stuff, Chrissy needed that weed.”

“And Carver needs a punch in the face,” Eddie mumbles into Steve’s shoulder.

“Did Chrissy say anything else, Lucas? Anything at all that stuck out last night?” Nancy asks.

“She said a few times that she’d walk home, but everything ended with her yelling that she wanted to be left alone and ducking into that room. A few of the guys dragged me away after that.”

Nancy continues to stare at her notes, taping on words with the tip of her pencil and shaking her head. Robin reads over her shoulder, just as intense, eyes moving faster.

“Eddie, did you notice anything else yesterday?” Robin asks, actually looking at him instead of slightly to the side, at Steve.

“She smelled scared. Like, deep terror kinda acrid in her scent. But she didn’t say why she was scared, just that she wasn’t sleeping well.”

“So, nightmares?” Dustin offers. That isn’t new for them, they all have nightmares about the shit they’ve been through.

“Nightmares,” Nancy agrees, writing it down. “And we know the Mindflayer could mess with what people were seeing.”

“But why Chrissy? Why not any of us?” Steve asks, and Eddie tightens his hold around him.

“Opportunity? Benny’s is closer to the old entrances to the Upside-Down,” Nancy says, finally looking up from her list. “Maybe it’s easier to break through there.”

“Or maybe it is coming after us, too.” Max still has her eyes covered, is even leaning against Lucas’s shoulder, something she hasn’t done in months. “Because I’ve been having nightmares, too. Really consistent ones, every night… I feel like I’m being watched.”

“Max,” Lucas murmurs, finally getting an arm around her. “No. We all-”

“These are different! Worse.”

The front door to the trailer creaks open, and Wayne freezes in his tracks. “Ed, why’ve ya got a half-dozen kids stuffed in here?”

[anniewatscn]

Welcome to Aurora Bay, [ANNABETH “ANNIE” WATSON]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [WILLA FITZGERALD]. You must be the [THIRTY-ONE] year old [DETECTIVE]. Word is you’re [AMBITIOUS] but can also be a bit [HARDHEADED] and your favorite song is [EDGE OF SEVENTEEN BY STEVIE NICKS]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [OCEAN CREST APARTMENTS]. I’m sure you’ll love it! @aurorabayaesthetic

basics.

full name; annabeth evangeline watson nicknames; known as annie to pretty much everybody birthday; tba sexuality; bisexual religion; agnostic, leaning towards atheist education level; bachelor's in criminal psychology occupation; detective (newly promoted from officer) for the aurora bay p.d. hobbies; lots of netflix and podcasts when she has the time, reading non-fiction books, going on runs & to the park with her dog.

stats.

alignment; neutral good astrology; capricorn more tba

full history.

tw: death, crime, murder, drug mention, pregnancy mention

Annie was born an Aurora Bay native as a surprise to two unmarried, very young parents who had a complicated relationship to begin with with each other, let alone bringing a child into it. They tried their best to make it work, eloping with the support of their parents, but after a few years of struggling to pay bills and arguing over everything from finances and family to the temperature of the air conditioning, they finally separated — right before Annie's mother found out she was yet again pregnant. This happened not only once, but twice — the parents would decide they were ready to call it quits, and then try to make things work again with each other for the new babies only to find out the same issues that were there to begin with still plagued them. Throughout this time, her father graduated from the police academy while her mother tried to make ends meet working for the local church nursery. But while there was a lot of love in their family, it just was never quite enough. Their final separation ended in divorce when Annie was fourteen years old.

She often tried to shield her siblings from the dysfunction whenever she could, feeling naturally very protective over them while also trying to make things easier for her parents by helping out with her siblings. And while it didn't ultimately save her parents' marriage, it did result in a very close relationship with her two younger siblings. Annie would act as a second mother to them for the rest of the time she lived with them — even going as far as to delay moving out of the house as an adult so she could continue to help take care of them.

After the dust settled, her mother continued to seek new relationships, while her dad, who, at the end of the marriage still wanted to make things work, remained single. One of her mother's new boyfriends had a past he hadn't been entirely forthcoming with, however, and when her father dug into his background he discovered the man was formerly (possibly still?) involved with drug trafficking. When he went to have a conversation with Annie's mother about this, however, he instead discovered the unthinkable. Annie and the kids were at school, and their mother, his ex wife, was gone. Vanished, without a trace. They discovered her body one week later, with apparent evidence of foul play, but the boyfriend had a seemingly airtight alibi, as did Annie's father, and with no other immediate suspects, the case went cold. It has remained unsolved to this day.

Her dad spiraled, becoming almost obsessive over the case. He was always a well respected cop in his department, but has since entered into early retirement, as suggested by his boss. Annie, on the other hand, made a promise to herself not to make the same mistakes. She wanted to protect and serve not only for herself, or for her mother, or her siblings, but for everyone. She wanted to be the good that she herself so desperately needed, the justice that she never got. But now the only question that remains is if she'll end up just like her father, chasing ghosts and nursing bottles in the memory of trauma that never truly heals.

significant relationships.

parents; divorced. dad still lives in aurora bay on the outskirts of fisher's cove. mother has been deceased since 2012. siblings; two younger siblings pets; a seriously protective german shepherd she affectionately named Bucky that helps her sleep at night after the work she often takes home with her.

connection ideas.

work related — good cop bad cop; the actual dynamic of this connection could vary, but basically this would be (ideally) her assigned partner or another coworker. Annie is very much so the "rookie" trying to prove herself, she's been on the force for a while but only just recently got promoted to detective so they could either be less than excited about working with her, or maybe they're happy to have a fresh pair of eyes with them. the unofficial partner; lucifer x chloe vibes. basically someone she leans on for support in her work life, who isn't actually a cop. maybe they're a criminal posing as a friend to her to try and keep her in the dark, or maybe they're a genuine friend who just has a penchant and an interest for crime solving but who doesn't have any official clearance. fancy seeing you here; someone she has caught doing something illegal on numerous occasions, but for some reason despite this person being a habitual offender she can't bring herself to hold any real ire for them. doesn't necessarily have to be serious crimes, either, could be something as simple as multiple parking tickets she assigned to this person in her beat cop days. you again?; this, on the other hand, would be more of a clear-cut enemy connection. when she first started out she was particularly zealous about things like parking tickets and jaywalking, all the way up to things like minor drug possession that other cops might've let slide. in annie's eyes she was just doing her job, but, to this person they would see her as an annoyance at best and the bane of their existence at worst. looking the other way; someone she knows is doing wrong but, due to their circumstances (being down on their luck, or recently gone through a tragedy, maybe even someone she's close to, etc.) she hasn't taken any action about it, despite the ramifications it could have for her with her job. platonic — you're my person; platonic soulmates, basically best friends that have always been close. we can decide the specifics, but this would be someone she probably met young and they've been together all the way from sleepovers and barbie dreamhouses to their first loves and toughest losses. big sister you never had; someone she either met through her tutoring job she had in school/college, or maybe a friend's younger sibling she feels protective over. whatever the case, these two are fairly close and annie might not show it, but, she needs them as much as they need her. you're all grown up now; childhood friends that grew apart but still think of each other fondly. maybe one moved away, or their friendship circles changed, or it was just the natural progression of time, but they'll always have making sandcastles in the backyard together. misery loves company; they bond over their mutual hatred or disdain for something, or over a number of things. two people that love to gripe but usually can't share their negativity with other people. couch potato aficionado; her time isn't often very free to relax but when she is able to, she'll veg out with true crime documentaries or trashy reality tv shows, plus the occasional scripted shows and movies. this would be someone (maybe even a neighbor) who comes over or she comes over to their house and they break open a bottle of wine together and hang out. familial — cut from the same cloth; a cousin that feels more like a sibling, the two of them always ended up off to the side together at family reunions and similar functions, gossiping about their aunt carol's new boyfriend and trading secrets they wouldn't tell anyone else. willing to plot this out as them still being close or maybe they've drifted apart in adulthood for whatever reason.

romantic — better off as friends; these two probably started as friends and tried dating, but, as good as they are as friends, it just felt off and didn't work out. now they just tease each other about their love lives and fill each other in on all their good and bad dates. maybe there's still lingering feelings, maybe not, but either way, they're always there for each other. girl in red; the first girl annie dated, who helped her realize and navigate her sexuality. this could've been when they were younger, all the way up to college or even more recently, I'm open to specifics! I imagine they're probably still friends and ended things on good terms, but we could discuss that too. fire and water; an ex that was her opposite in many ways, they had a lot of passion but they argued a lot. they did genuinely care about each other and probably still do, but mostly keep their distance now. the one that got away; an ex that probably still doesn't know the real reason things ended. Annie would've made up an excuse, but, the truth was that she was developing real feelings she wasn't prepared for, got scared, and ran. antagonistic — high school never ends; (bully mention tw) annie was kind of a nerd in school, very into her grades, a bit of a goody two shoes, etc. this person may have been a bit of a bully or had a "frenemy" type relationship with her, and probably thinks they were actually friends and all the teasing was just friendly. i could see this as going either way; could just be a genuine misunderstanding or a full-on bully situation and they've changed since school - or maybe not.

other/general — friends, coworkers, neighbors, exes, enemies/rivals, one night stands/fwbs/flirtationships/will-they-won't-they, etc

all of these connection ideas are mostly jumping off points, so don't be shy to suggest something similar in plotting or to work around the ideas suggested!

[daemonbrain]

"One of me is cute but two though!"

2.4k, cw: breeding kink, smut, kinda baby trapping (?), not proofread

a/n: based off Juno by Sabrina Carpenter hehe happy reading :)

Simon Riley who would go to the ends of the earth for his bird. You wanted to watch your favorite movie for the millionth time with him? Done. You were craving take out from that special spot across town in the middle of the night? He’s placing your order and grabbing his keys to go pick it up after a quick goodbye kiss. You wanted him to kill a little red-haired prick who got too close to you -grazed your arm- yesterday at 17:37 while in a crowded line when he went to the loo, with his bare hands? Fan-tastic. (He may be projecting a little)

But he was worried. He might not be the most perceptive man, but he wasn’t so thick headed he couldn’t see the signs.

The way you made googly eyes at every baby you passed by. Fuck sakes he had never seen so. many. babies. 

Little things everywhere nowadays, though it might just be he’s now paying enough attention to notice. It definitely helped the unintentional search that your grip on his arm tightened every time you saw one. Your soft coos as you turned to him to say for a third time in a row that the babe was the “cutest thing you had ever seen”.

He loved you like he loved his gun after it got him out of a tough spot (he loved you more, but he's pretty poor at putting an example on it), but there was one thing he was wholly unsure he could give you. Being a father has never been something he was sure of, his own making his childhood a living hell assuring him that it wasn’t in his genes or anywhere in his future. He came to terms with that years ago and shoved the idea out of his mind entirely. 

As you both sat down at a coffee shop while taking a break from your park walk, you just happened to get seated right next to another woman, a stroller in your direct view.

Fuckin’ great.

Biting your lip you take a peek at the chubbiest little thing in a deep sleep. Catching the gaze of the mother you smile. “She’s adorable” you chirped. 

As the mother responded with a smile of her own, Simon felt a foot gently nudging his leg as gave him the prettiest eyes. Did you even try to hide it anymore? No, you really didn’t. Eyes filled with thinly veiled intentions, eyes that said “Look how cute! Jump across this table and give me one now,” 

“Isn’t she cute Si?!”

He sighed and replied in his usual grumble, “course, ‘er little jumper is nice.” Tactics. Swiftly move out from the topic and do not let the missus see the little bows… on the jumper… he just pointed- for fucks sake you saw it.

After quite some time giggling with the mother over photos, because of course that had to be the natural progression of things, Simon observed in his characteristic shadow-like demeanor before the little one began to fuss in her sleep. The mother excused herself and the babe to nurse and it’s then you finally turn back to your silent companion with your usual beaming.

“ ‘avin fun there, yeah?” He laughed which came out more as a snort as you mockingly kicked him under the table.

“I am as a matter of fact!”

Pulling his hands into the air in surrender he looks you head on. “Okay, I get it.”

“The baby was just so- ugh! Did you see how chubby she was? Her little hair.. Gosh!” Stay on task. Do not get distracted by the target's beautiful smile or laugh. Someone had to be the voice of rationale after all.

“Like I said ‘er jumper was nice, luv.”

When the pout came to your lips, he considered it a success (you were hot either way) and chalked the whole thing as a minor bump in the road. Whatever this baby fever was would pass.

Nonetheless, he should’ve known his bird better than that. She wasn’t a quitter, that’s for damn sure. As you cooked up dinner in that cute apron and served it plated up so nicely it dawned on him just how… domestic this all was.

It was nice, he concluded. Calm.

You remained pensive and quiet for the most part during dinner, clearly desperate to say what you had been on your mind for weeks. He could see the way your mind's gears turned, wanting to blurt it out. Like an animal going feral at the bars of its cage. Except your the animal and your cage is the inherent trust you will not go awol and chuck your birth control pills into the trash while he’s not watching.

“Simon…” 

Here it comes.

Simon grunted out his response while chewing on his food, looking up to meet your cautious gaze. Leaning across the table you gently lay your hand on his which held his fork, pushing it down.

“I’ve been thinking… a lot lately.” There you went with that look again. “Have you… ever thought of kids before? I- I know we’ve had this talk before… but-”

“C’mere.”

He outstretched his big arms and patted his lap. With quick acceptance you hurried over and let him pull you on top of him, one hand on the back of his chair and the other on your ass for support. The deep kneading of it was also for support of course. 

“You know how I feel about them. ‘Is jus not somethin I think about, luvie.” He didn’t dare look away from your eyes. If he was about to take that gleam out of your eyes he at least owed it to you to watch.

You grabbed his face with a light touch and caressed the stubble which had begun to grow with a look beginning to resemble a spot of desperation. Pressing yourself further into his body, you couldn’t help your protests.

“Si.. I just- I want one so bad.” You began to slide your hand down the side of his neck, pressing forward to gently place a kiss. Leaning your forehead in the junction between his shoulder and neck you continued before he could respond.

“Don’t you? A little baby with us all the time.”

Someone had to be the voice of reason and Simon was going to have to put his foot down on this.

“You’re not thinkin straigh’, luv. It would be cute-” He was cut off in shock as he felt the slight rock of your hips as you cowered into his shoulder.

“Just imagine it! One of me is cute enough, but two!” The pace began to speed up as you blatantly started grinding against him. He let out a little huff. Voice of reason. Though his reason was nowhere to be found when he put his hand that was idly on the chair to your backside to encourage the movement.

You knew what came next, you had to sweeten the pot. You knew you were being mean, but you just had to! You were practically given no choice!

“Don’t you want that Si! Don’t you wanna make something together?” You all but pleaded. He looked straight past your head with a crumbling steely demeanor. Fuck.

You already began to tug at his shirt and with a final glare, Simon couldn’t help but look at his pretty bird. His pretty bird on top of the prize she coveted, heat passing between their bodies. Just one time. One time and then they could talk about this properly. 

Simon gathered you up in his arms and stood while pressing an eager kiss to your lips. It was a soft and long thing as he brought you both to the bedroom you shared. He threw you down on the bed and stripped himself as you excitedly did the same.

Smiling up at him as if you won. You did not win. This was not a win, right? You were on your birth control either way, he would pull out as needed. What harm is there in fucking his own girl.

Pushing you on to your back he parted your legs to look what lay between them. There was the prize he was most proud of. Puffy cunt at the mercy of the cool air being pushed out by the vents. You were already beginning to shine.

“You were just waiting for it weren’t you? Knew I couldn’t leave you hanging, yeah?”

With a giggle you spread your thighs further and wiggled your hips teasingly. Simon dropped to his knees and pulled your body to the edge of the bed. Throwing each of your legs on either of his shoulders he spit into your cunt, taking two thick fingers and rubbing it in, catching on to your hole lightly as he played with the slick. He could see the way your stomach tightened as he circled your clit and he winded you up further when he firmly flicked it.

“Si” you whined.

“Wha’ is it?” He grinned as he lowered his head to press a kiss down. Devolving from a kiss, he grabbed onto one of your thighs with a strong grip and began to sloppily lick while you let out your breathy little moans, sensitive to the absolute tank holding you still as he ate straight from the source.

He licked and it just kept going. Dragging his tongue around your cunt, up to your puffy clit. He harshly sucked as he latched on to it drawing a cry from your vulnerable form. Tugging at his hair, he only looks up with his eyes, refusing to pull away his mouth. 

Shaking your head with wide eyes you couldn’t help but push your fluffy little agenda.

“Si please. Please. Please, I need it! I’d never ask for anything else-” you moaned in surprise once again as he added a finger into your hole. Willing himself to pull away from you, Simon continued to fuck his finger into you as he spoke up, spittle and slick coating his mouth. He had to switch gears, use logic (and cum) to deter you.

“We’d never have time. All this?-” He added another finger into your clenching pussy “Gone. We’d be cleaning spit up instead.”

“We’d have a baby!” You exclaimed insistently.

You were practically off the edge, usually by now Simon had you fucked into your own little world. This incessant begging for a little one of your own is keeping you sharper than usual. He’d fix that.

“Please Simon” You pulled him up, the strain of his cock to be inside you encouraging him to follow your movements. He looked at you pretty tits, pretty like everything else on you. Taking a nipple between his fingers and rolling hard.

“These’d get all full.”

Fuck that backtracked his own point. His mind fighting back the onslaught of thoughts at the sight of your tits growing round and heavy because of something he could do. Would your body get all soft- NO.

Lining himself up and looking at that pleading expression, the only time he’d ever seen you so wanting of something you were willing to roll around with nothing else on your mind.

“Just one Si, just one with your eyes your nose your hair-” Your breath went short as he pushed himself in, giving shallow thrusts to feed into your aching cunt. Recomposing yourself you gripped on to his bicep, “Just do it, lock me down tonight.”

Simon couldn’t help the way he subconsciously began pushing your thighs up to give himself a deeper angle, your ankles dangling weightlessly above your head, knees to your chest. The groans which sounded through the room as his hips hammered into you in a desperate chase. 

The two of you could do nothing but stare into each other's eyes, losing yourselves in each other while your cunt squeezes him like a vice. Determined to keep him there, body obstinately stuck on one thing.

 Someone had to be the voice of reason. Someone had to object to a little one with his eyes and your personality. Someone had to be rational and not think about painting the nursery while you waddled about. Someone had to remain level-headed and not imagine the way your eyes would light up with unfettered joy.

You tossed your head back and he couldn’t help but grip your face in his hand, tugging it right back to him.

“With me luv, with me. Look at me.”

Someone had to be rational.

Nodding your head shakily you keep your eyes on the massive man pounding away at you, feeling the way your stomach bulges trying to accommodate all of him, your cunt coaxing him further into the sticky trap.

Your body begging for one thing, you looked like you needed it. Tongue lolling out of your mouth as you were fucked stupid, sweat collecting on your brow. You looked perfect. Your whining swallowed by his own mouth when he presses another kiss to your swollen lips, body enduring in hopes the fat cock ruthlessly disturbing its peace would grant it the big load it craved.

Someone had to be rational?

Maybe it was the way you sucked him in, the way he couldn’t stop thrusting into you, but it’s as if your body sent some message to the receptors in his mind. All that flashed before him images of happy and full and with his baby.

As if you could sense his thoughts, your own peak quickly overcame you white hot. The way you spasmed around him with a loud cry of pure ecstasy.

“Give it to me!” You somehow managed. His mind went blank as drunk off the pleasure as you were, the only thing he could do was thrust, unable to comprehend anything else.

 A shame Simon couldn’t be rational when it came to his bird.

With the final slam of his hips, his release went into the deepest depths of you. His grip on your hips burning from how tight it was as he kept himself flush against you.

It took a few moments to come down from the high. Simon looked at your sweaty face, hazy from lack of energy. Maybe you did win this one, but he really didn't get all this effort (not that he was complaining) if you were still on birth control.

Birth control... which he hasn't had to remind you to take for quite some time...

Out of pure curiosity at his realization, he gently pushed the two of you further up the bed while keeping you plugged up. Opening the first drawer he manages to grab the box which contained your birth control pills. Upon further inspection, he notices it remains unopened and untouched. Shaking his head with a gruff laugh he peers down at you as you shiver from the rumble.

“Dirty girl”

You just smiled.

[stylesispunk]

"A lot to live without"

outbreak! Joel miller x f!reader

summary: what are you supposed to do if there is no him.

wc: 2k>

warning: angst, grief. (yes)

a/n: I have more fix it fics to work in, but I also wrote this short one yesterday because i was feeling like shit. Besides, angst is part of my package so why not?

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You still couldn't wrap your head around the idea your fingers were caressing a name craved on stone.

"beloved father"

"beloved brother"

But what about the beloved lover? that one who had torn apart his walls just to let you in. The one who had kept you safe from your nightmares when he still had his torturing his own mind like demons chasing him constantly.

Oh god, you sobbed, in between short breaths, while leaning your head towards the stone. As if you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling yours, as if his hands would wipe you tears with those callused fingers you loved wrapped yours with. As if you could open your eyes and meet those brown eyes that had softened after the life he had made with, the one he had built with you in here. In peace and quiet.

You almost felt his fingertips caressing your cheeks with tenderness, fingertips caressing with the warmth it comes with life, a life that now has been ended in the cruelest way.

Your heart hurt in a strangely different way. A kind of pain you haven't had felt before. Not even a broken bone or a knife throbbing in your middle could compare to this revolting feeling.

It wasn't physical. It was the kind of pain that seemed to have crushed your soul. That kind of pain that would never pass, would never heal. The one that could eat you little by little because it has sucked the life out of you.

A week had passed.

Seven full days without seeing his face, without waking up with an arm around your middle and a head resting on your chest.

Seven.

Without warm. Without sunshine caressing your skin. Instead, in its place a monstrous cold that had soaked into your bones, like the touch of his hand after his death.

God.  Joel Miller and death couldn’t go in the same sentence. It felt almost ridiculous for a man who has survived all these times just for his life ending in a weak act of revenge.

The world stopped. Yours had stopped.

It stopped the moment Ellie, Dina and Jesse’s horses came through those gates with blood-stained saddlebags and a rolled-up blanket that could’ve been anything. Should’ve been anything. But you knew.

Just it wasn’t supposed to be Joel’s lifeless frame.

Your legs had moved before your brain could stop them, a scream building in your chest, clawing at your throat, spilling out in broken, incomprehensible sound the second you saw it. Tommy’s face — like a man carved from stone, grief hardened in every line, his hand on your shoulder grounding the truth you didn’t want to face.

It was a day of blood under your fingernails, gravel cutting into your knees, and Ellie’s face crumpling in a way you wouldn’t wish on the cruelest soul. The weight in your chest so heavy it pressed your ribs inward until you swore, they’d snap. You begged the earth to swallow you.

It didn’t.

You didn’t know how you were able to get there, how your legs moved beneath you, how your hands pushed the door open past Tommy, but you fell to your knees beside him, the blanket peeled back like some horrible.

There he was.

Joel.

Your Joel.

His face bloodied, bruised, lips split, but still him. Those lashes you used to kiss at dawn. That jaw you traced when you thought he was asleep. Skin pale, lips bluer than they should’ve been.

You reached out, fingers trembling so badly you barely made contact, brushing over his cheek.

Cold.

Not the kind of cold that came with this winter, with long patrol nights or chilled hands warming beneath blankets. The kind of cold that didn’t leave. The kind that sank into skin because there was no warmth left inside.

You sobbed.

“Oh god, Joel,” your voice cracked, a sound you didn’t recognize, “Joel, please—”

And then Tommy was there, kneeling beside you, face wrecked and wet and older than it had ever looked.

“He’s gone,” Tommy choked, like it physically hurt to say.

You cradled Joel’s cheek, tried to find anything, anything warm in him.

“He’s cold, Tommy,” you whispered, your throat raw, “We should—we should wrap a blanket around him. He’ll get sick—”

Your fingers tangled in the blood-matted hair you’d brushed from his face just that morning. Just hours ago, when the sun barely came up and he mumbled about five more minutes, pulling you against his chest, breath warm on your skin.

“He’s cold,” you repeated, voice cracking completely, “He’ll be cold like this—”

Tommy’s hand was on your shoulder, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises you wouldn’t notice for days. His face was twisted, voice breaking as he spoke.

“I know,” he said, ragged and useless, “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

But you didn’t stop.

You curled yourself over him, forehead pressed to his, as if you could will the life back into him. As if the warmth you gave could fill him again. As if the world could undo itself.

But the cold stayed because he wouldn’t come back.

During the second day, you didn’t sleep. Didn’t eat. Didn’t move, unless someone made you.

Your body became foreign. Limbs you didn’t recognize. Hands that trembled even when you told them not to. You sat on the front porch where he’d spent a thousand mornings watching sunrises he pretended not to care about. The chair beside you empties. You didn’t cry this time. You just stared.

People spoke to you. Said words. Food. Rest. Breathe. All pointless.

He wasn’t in any of them.

Just flowers around your house. One you couldn’t face to step inside the door now.

The third day, the dreams started. Not of him alive, that would’ve been a mercy.

You saw his body. Over and over. In the barn. On the road. On the place where he taught you to shoot. Every time you closed your eyes, it was there. And waking up was worse. Because for a second you forgot. For a single, brutal second you reached across a bed for him. And then the cold came in.

You broke the mirror in Maria’s and Tommy bathroom.

Didn’t even feel the glass slicing skin.

During the fourth day, you face yourself and your pain. You stepped inside the house for the first time since his death and the house smelled like him.

It was the soap. The old jacket draped on the back of the chair. The coffee mug you still unwashed. And it was a cruelty, because every breath you took was a lie. The scent fading. You could almost pretend if you kept the door closed, didn’t let the world in, he might still be here.

You found one of his shirts in the laundry.

Sat on the floor with it, knees to your chest.

Cried until your throat burned.

At day five, anger came. That was new.

It came in sharp and bright. Rage at everything. At the world. At the sky for daring to be so blue. At Jackson’s walls for being too damn high to matter. At yourself for surviving. At Joel himself for leaving you behind.

You screamed until your voice went hoarse.

And then it was empty again.

During day six, you counted every hour. Every minute. The clock in the living room ticked so loudly it became a torment. Time moved in jagged, unnatural ways. Minutes stretched into eternities. You watched the light shift through the window like you were watching for him. As if maybe — maybe, he’d step through the door with that crooked, half-guilty smile, calling you by that nickname only he was allowed to use.

He didn’t.

And you hated yourself for hoping.

You wanted to die.

And now, at the seventh day, with you still kneeling on his grave. You told him you didn’t know how to keep going. It was true, you meant it.

“I don’t know how to keep going,” you whispered. Your voice sounded foreign in the still air. “I mean it, Joel. I don’t. I don’t know what the fuck to do now.”

The words clung to the silence.

And then you felt it — not a sound, not a voice, but a presence near you. You knew it without looking. Ellie.

She’d been avoiding you all week. Wouldn’t meet your eyes. Wouldn’t come near you. And God, you understood. You understood that guilt, that heavy, ugly thing gnawing at her broken, now healing ribs. The way it twisted her mouth when she tried to speak and couldn’t.

But it hurt. It hurt more than you could stand because you needed her. And she was too far away.

You lifted your head, your face blotched and raw, and there she was. A few yards away. Standing like a ghost, her arms crossed over her stomach, her face as pale as the clouded sky above.

You could see it in her. That look. Like she wanted to come to you but thought she didn’t deserve it. Like the grief belonged to her alone.

So, you did the only thing you could. You lifted your arm.

In a quite small, weak gesture, but it was everything you had left to give.

Her chin quivered. You saw the shine in her eyes, the battle in her chest. “C’mere,” your voice cracked, half a sob, half a plea. “Baby girl… c’mere.”

And slowly, like she was afraid you’d take it back, she moved.

Step by step.

Until she was close enough for you to wrap your arm around her.

Until her knees hit the dirt beside yours.

Until her head was buried in your shoulder and your fingers tangled in her hair.

And for the first time in seven days, the ache inside you shifted. Not gone. Not healed. But a little less lonely.

Her shoulders shook against you, ragged sobs breaking loose the way neither of you had let yourselves fall apart in front of each other all week. The air was sharp with cold, damp earth clinging to your knees, but neither of you moved. Neither of you could.

You kept your hand in her hair, fingers trembling as you combed them through the tangled strands like you’d seen him do a hundred times when she was upset. And maybe you were doing it for yourself too. Maybe it was the last piece of him you had left.

“I miss him so much,” Ellie whispered, her voice so small it made your heart physically ache.

“I know, baby girl. I know.”

The words cracked apart in your throat. Joel used to call her that. Since when things were still simple in their own complicated way.

She pulled back, just enough to look at you, her face blotchy and red, eyes rimmed with swollen skin. “I… I should’ve—”

“No,” you cut in, your voice firm despite the tears choking you. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to carry a guilt it doesn’t belong to you.”

“But I—”

“No.” You grabbed her shoulders, made sure she was really looking at you. “He loved you. You hear me? Nothing about what happened changes that.”

Her mouth wobbled, fresh tears welling up, and you knew there was more she wanted to say, but something inside you splintered then. The weight you’d been carrying, this secret pressing against your ribs, rising in your throat every night, it was too much.

And now, with her here, with the grave between you and the cold earth around you, you just… couldn’t hold it anymore.

You looked at Joel’s name craved on that stone, then shifted your gaze back to Ellie.

“Ellie,” your voice broke, rough and soft all at once. You took her hand, pressing it to your stomach, though there wasn’t anything to feel yet. Not yet.

“I’m pregnant.”

She stared. Like the words didn’t make sense at first. Like her brain had to piece them together.

And then the breath left her in a hitched, broken sound. “What?”

“I didn’t—I didn’t get to tell him,” You managed, the sob catching on your lips before you could stop it. “I was gonna—“you sobbed again, “But you know he was getting older and I was scared-“

Ellie’s hand trembled against you.

“I don’t know what to do,” you confessed, shaking your head, pressing your palm over hers. “I don’t know how to do this without him.”

Her face crumpled again, tears spilling over, and this time it wasn’t just grief. It was something softer. Something terrified and protective and bone-deep yours.

“I’ll help you,” she whispered. “I’ll—I’ll be here, okay? I’m not gonna leave you. I swear.”

You pulled her back against you, burying your face in her hair as the wind blew through the trees, rattling branches like brittle bones. And in that hollow, ruined space inside you, something fragile sparked. Not hope, not yet — but the thin, flickering thread of not being alone.

And for now, it was enough.

Ellie stayed there, curled into your side, the two of you pressed together against the cold earth like it might anchor you to the world before it slipped away entirely.

You didn’t say anything for a while. Just breathed. Just existed.

The wind whistled low through the trees, carrying with it the faintest hint of pine and cold earth, and somewhere nearby, a crow croaked out a single, harsh note. The world was still turning. It felt cruel.

Ellie shifted then, her hand still resting on your stomach, and tilted her head to look past you — at the headstone. At the name carved in stone like it could contain a man so big, so stubborn, so him.

Joel Miller.

Beloved Father.

Beloved Brother.

And to you — beloved everything.

You felt Ellie’s breath stutter against your shoulder, the faintest catch of her throat before she spoke. Her voice was rough, but there was a thread of something else in it now. Not light. Not humor, not quite. But a kind of aching tenderness you’d only ever seen her give him.

“Did you hear that, old man?” she whispered hoarsely, her fingers brushing against the grave marker like she might get a reaction. “You’re gonna be a dad again.”

The words hit the air and settled between you like a living thing.

And your chest cracked open all over again, but this time it wasn’t just pain. It was longing. It was grief. It was love so enormous it hurt to hold.

Because you will have to this alone, without him.

You let out a ragged breath, your lips trembling into a small, wrecked smile, and you leaned your head against Ellie’s.

“Yeah,” you whispered to the dirt, to the wind, to the man you’d lost. “You better stick around somehow, Miller. ‘Cause I can’t do this shit without you.”

Ellie let out a wet, broken laugh.

The two of you sat there, together, the grave in front of you and the cold world beyond it. And for the first time in seven days, the unbearable weight in your chest felt a little less sharp.

Still heavy.

Still raw.

But you weren’t alone.

And neither was he.

[pbaz7]

FINDING PEACE IN YOU: PART 8

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content ‼️

word count: 12.7k

A/N: Not going to lie the plot on this is very minimal towards the end. BUT I do think the way I wrote things advances the story so if you are uncomfortable with reading sexual content just lmk and I’m more than happy to post a little synopsis of this chapter and the important aspects of their growth that I kinda wove into the scenes. Don’t want anyone to miss out just because of their preference! Anywho this is for everybody who’s been begging for a part 2 of heat check! Let me know what you think and leave reactions if you can 🫶🏼

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When Paige finally got back into town in the middle of the day on Friday, she checked the shared calendar on her phone, scanning Azzi’s schedule for the day. Seeing a small block of free time, she smiled to herself, already turning her car out of the Dallas facility toward her next destination. She made a quick stop, grabbing Azzi’s lunch from a spot they both loved, then ducked into a flower shop that was right on the corner. With a small bouquet of roses in hand, she headed back to her car.

A few minutes later she parked out front of Azzi’s clinic, locking the door behind her as she stepped out. The building was quiet, sun filtering through the glass entryway as Paige made her way inside, the elevator dinging softly as she pressed the button for the correct floor. Her hands full—lunch in one, flowers in the other.

Upon walking into the clinic, Kelly looked up from her desk and smiled warmly. “Long time no see.”

Paige returned the smile politely, adjusting the food in her hand. “Hey, Kelly. How you been?”

“I’m good, thank you for asking,” Kelly replied, before nodding toward the door. “She’s in her office—I’ll buzz you in.”

“Appreciate you,” Paige said, waiting for the soft click of the door before pushing through and making her way down the familiar office. She passed the recovery and training rooms and when she reached Azzi’s office, the door was cracked open. Paige paused in the doorway for a moment, her eyes tracing the scene in front of her—Azzi in a low squat, her knees pressed together tightly because of the skirt she had on, documents spread neatly across the floor as she skimmed through them.

Paige stepped inside quietly, setting the food down on the desk before speaking. “Anybody ever tell you how sexy you look in a skirt?”

Azzi’s head turned at the sound of Paige’s voice, a startled smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of her standing there—flowers in one hand, that familiar blue in her eyes lighting up the room more than the sun spilling through the window. Still crouched, Azzi arched an eyebrow and said, “Only every single day you’re in town.”

Paige grinned at the response, stepping further inside and nudging the door shut behind her with her foot. She set the flowers down next to the food on Azzi’s desk, eyes lingering for a moment too long on the way Azzi’s skirt hugged her legs. “Damn shame I wasn’t here yesterday then,” she murmured.

Azzi stood, smoothing down the front of her skirt with a smile. “You’re lucky I like surprises,” she said, her voice dropping just slightly as she moved toward her; Paige’s eyes raking over her shamelessly as she did. “Mmm, I’m definitely lucky.”

When Azzi reached her, her hands slid around Paige’s neck with ease, as though they hadn’t been apart for any time. Paige’s arms wrapped around Azzi’s waist, pulling her in until there was barely any space between them. Their lips met in a slow kiss—warm and familiar, yet still filled with a deep spark. Azzi’s nails grazed the back of Paige’s neck, just enough to make her hum against her mouth.

“I missed you,” Paige whispered into the kiss.

Azzi smiled against her lips, the kiss deepening for a moment before she pulled back enough to look Paige in the eye. “Yeah?” she whispered, her fingers still gently brushing the nape of Paige’s neck.

Paige hummed in response, her arms tightening around Azzi’s waist like she wasn’t ready to let go of her yet. Their lips met again as Azzi began to walk them back toward her desk, her steps guided by instinct and Paige’s gentle pressure.

When they reached the edge, Paige gave Azzi’s butt a small squeeze, earning a small breathy laugh from her between kisses. Azzi pulled back to look at her again, eyes a little dazed, cheeks flushed.

“I miss you more,” she said quietly. Paige's lips curved into a soft smile as Azzi reached up her thumb wiping the smudge of her lip gloss from the corner of Paige’s mouth. Paige started to step back to gesture toward the food she brought, but Azzi’s fingers tightened around the fabric of the black tank top, tugging her back in.

“Where you going?”

Paige laughed, “I got you lunch gorgeous,” she said, nodding toward the desk.

Azzi didn’t even look. Her eyes were still on Paige’s lips, then drifted lower—across her shoulders, the definition in her arms, the dip of her collarbone exposed by the tank top. With her fingers still holding Paige, she mumbled distractedly, “I’m not hungry.”

Paige smirked at Azzi’s response, dipping her head to press a soft kiss just beneath her jaw, whispering against her skin, “You sure?”

Azzi’s breath hitched slightly, her fingers sliding up the curve of Paige’s bicep, eyes fluttering as she whispered back, “Positive.” Her head tilting, offering Paige more access as her body leaned into the warmth between them.

Paige chuckled, letting her lips trail a few more kisses along Azzi’s jawline, before pulling back. “Promise I’mma get you right later,” she said. “Lemme just feed you before your next meeting. I know you haven’t had nothing but coffee today cause it’s Friday.”

Azzi exhaled, relenting with a soft smile as Paige finally stepped away to grab the lunch she’d brought. She nodded toward Azzi’s chair. “Go sit down.”

With a small shake of her head and a grin, Azzi obeyed, walking over and easing into her chair. Paige handed her the roasted salmon and quinoa bowl, her usual.

Paige sat on Azzi’s desk, settling right in front of her chair. From that vantage point, Azzi couldn’t help but take her in—up close now instead of over FaceTime. The stitches near Paige’s eyebrow had been removed, only needing to be in for a few days but there was still a small scar there that would eventually fade. A few bruises painted her arms in faded purples and greens and a few scratches looked newer than others.

Azzi chewed slowly, her eyes trailing over every detail before spearing a piece of salmon with her fork. Without saying anything, she lifted it toward Paige like she always did.

Paige laughed softly, leaning back away from the fork. “Stop, that's for you.”

“You need some,” Azzi countered easily.

“I don’t—” Paige started, but Azzi cut her off with just a look. One of those looks Paige had grown used to.

Paige sighed, the sound exaggerated but affectionate, and leaned forward just enough for Azzi to feed her. “You don’t play fair,” she mumbled as she took the bite.

Azzi smiled, pleased with herself. “Never claimed I did.”

Paige grinned, licking a bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth after the bite. “We got a date later.”

Azzi chewed slowly, one eyebrow lifting as she eyed her. “You could barely keep your eyes open this morning when we were on FaceTime.”

Paige shrugged casually. “I’ll be aight. I wanna take you out.”

Azzi laughed, spearing another piece of salmon and offering it to Paige. “And where would we be going, exactly?” she asked, leaning in just a little. Azzi already knew she’d say yes no matter the answer.

“There’s this wine tasting.”

Azzi perked up before she could catch herself, her eyes lighting up slightly, and Paige caught it instantly, grinning. “Exactly.” Paige added casually, “I prolly can’t drive though.”

“Sam can take us,” Azzi replied without hesitation, trying to keep her tone even, but Paige was already grinning.

“Ohh, so you’re interested now,” Paige teased, watching Azzi try—and fail—to go back to being nonchalant.

Azzi shook her head, feigning indifference. “Not that interested.”

“Nahh,” Paige laughed, leaning back on her hands a little, “don’t start backpedaling now. I saw that lil sparkle in your eye.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, getting another bite of food and popping it in her mouth. “Whatever,” she mumbled around the fork.

Paige just watched her with a soft smile, clearly amused. “I missed you, pretty girl.”

Azzi’s chewing slowed for a second before she put her bowl down beside her and moved closer to where Paige was sitting on the edge of the desk. Her hands slid up Paige’s thighs, settling just above her knees as she looked up at her with a small smile of her own. “I missed you too.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other—soaking in the warmth of being near one another again.

Paige’s voice softened as she looked down at Azzi. “It’s only been, what, a week and a half? Why it feel like a month?”

Azzi rested her hands lightly on Paige’s belt. “Because you’re dramatic,” she teased.

Paige let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe. Or maybe I just don’t like being away from you that long.”

Azzi’s fingers began tracing, idle circles against Paige’s hip bone. “You FaceTimed me every day.”

“Not the same,” Paige murmured, her voice dropping just a little. “I can’t touch you through a screen.”

Azzi tilted her head, their eyes locked. “So you missed touching me?”

Paige’s smirk returned, as she leaned down until their noses brushed. “I missed all of you. Definitely missed touching you though.”

Azzi’s eyes flicked to Paige’s lips. “Good. You can have me later… Maybe.”

Paige’s smirk lingered until Azzi’s fingers slid just beneath the edge of her belt, tugging her forward a half step. Paige’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, the motion shifting her balance enough that her hands instinctively settled on the armrests of Azzi’s chair.

“Oh?” Paige murmured, the corner of her mouth twitching up. “What’s that about?”

Azzi didn’t break eye contact as she shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure you’re really here.” Her thumbs grazed along Paige’s waistband and Paige could tell that answer was bullshit so her smile only grew.

“Whatever you say.”

Azzi hummed at that, breaking the moment as she pulled her hands back and picked up her fork again. “Good. Then feed me. I have a client soon.”

Paige shook her head with a huge grin on her face as she grabbed the food container. “My girl’s bossy when she’s hungry, huh?”

Azzi looked up at her, shaking her head no. “Only when I’m in love.”

That made Paige's gaze soften. “I love you too beautiful.”

Something soft passed between them for a second. Before Paige grinned looking away and picking up the fork and scooping up another bite of salmon to hold it out to Azzi.

Azzi leaned forward to take it, still smiling as she chewed. “This is actually really good,” she mumbled through the bite.

“Would be better if you ate it without tryna feed me every other bite,” Paige grumbled, swatting lightly at Azzi’s hand as she tried to raise another forkful to her lips.

Azzi ignored her protest and held the food closer. “Open.”

“Azzi—”

“Paige.”

Paige huffed, laughing, before reluctantly leaning forward and accepting the bite. “This is textbook manipulation.”

“This is me making sure my girlfriend, who’s an athlete and doesn’t eat enough, eats more.” Azzi corrected.

They fell into a rhythm, talking about random things—practice, Lukas, a funny video that Paige’s mom sent them the night before. Paige fed Azzi slowly, and in between, Azzi snuck bites into Paige’s mouth every time she looked distracted or paused too long mid-story.

As Paige was reaching for the napkins, the office phone rang—its sharp tone cutting through the warm moment between them.

Azzi sighed through a soft laugh, grabbing the receiver as she mouthed behave before answering.

“This is Dr.Fudd,” she said, voice switching into her professional tone effortlessly, though there was still a trace of amusement tucked into the edges of her words.

On the other end of the line, Kelly’s voice came through the receiver. “Hey, just a heads up—your next appointment’s already here. Ten minutes.”

Azzi thanked her before hanging up, exhaling softly as she glanced at the clock.

Paige stood from the desk with a stretch, her tank top shifting up slightly to reveal her stomach muscles, Azzi’s eyes flicking down briefly. She reached for Azzi’s hand, gently pulling her up from the seat. “I’ll see you later?”

Azzi hummed, already stepping in to kiss her. It was slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that said she didn’t really want Paige to go. When she pulled back, her voice was softer. “What’re you doing for the rest of the day?”

Paige let her thumb graze over Azzi’s waist as they started walking toward the front of the office. “Bout to just chill with Lukas until later. He said something about wanting to switch his dirt bike engine since he’s ‘big’ now.”

Azzi smiled at that, nodding as they walked in sync down the hallway, their shoulders bumping once.

When they reached the door, Paige tugged Azzi into one more hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you,” she murmured.

Azzi smiled, nose brushing Paige’s as she whispered back, “I love you too.”

Then they stepped into the receptionist area where Kelly was typing quietly. Paige pulled Azzi into one last hug, more casual this time, but still lingering. “Put those flowers in water,” she said.

Azzi laughed softly. “I will.”

They exchanged one final glance, Paige winking at Azzi—before parting ways. As Paige walked toward the elevator, Azzi turned back toward the front, smoothing her skirt and offering a warm smile.

She motioned toward the client waiting in the seating area. “You can come on back.”

…

Later that night, Sam pulled up to the front of Paige's house, the blacked-out luxury vehicle idling quietly in Paige’s driveway. From the backseat, Azzi pulled out her phone and sent Paige a quick text.

Within a minute, the front door opened and closed. Azzi looked up to see Paige walking out—her diamond studs catching the faint porch light, silver chain resting against the loose white button up she wore. She moved with her usual calm confidence.

When Paige slid into the car, the scent of her cologne drifted in with her. She greeted Sam with a nod. “Preciate you, man.”

“Anytime,” Sam said before reaching forward to press the button that sent the partition up, giving them privacy.

As soon as they were alone, Paige turned toward Azzi, grinning. “You look good.” Eyes sweeping slowly down Azzi’s frame and back up with no rush.

Azzi leaned back into her seat, crossing one leg over the other, her skirt hugging her curves in a way that didn’t go unnoticed. “You saw me earlier today,” she pointed out.

Paige shrugged, her grin growing. “All of a sudden it looks better when I know I can take it off you soon.”

Azzi let out a laugh, rolling her eyes playfully. “You really know how to flatter a woman.”

Paige tilted her head. “You can take mine off if it makes you feel better.”

Azzi gave her a slow once-over, eyes dragging down Paige’s relaxed, tailored fit. She lingered for a beat, then looked back up at Paige with a smile. “Might take you up on that.”

“Yeah?”

Azzi didn’t answer—just smiled at her like she already had plans.

Paige played into the moment, a smirk creeping in as she licked her lips and leaned into Azzi. “Say the word and I’ll cancel the wine tasting right now.”

Azzi let out a soft scoff, immediately lifting her hand and pressing two fingers to Paige’s forehead, gently pushing her back. “Relax, Mr. Steal-Your-Girl,” she said, laughing.

Paige laughed too, leaning back with her hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just sayin.”

Azzi shook her head with a grin, both of them settling back into their seats.

…

The tasting room was warmly lit, making the atmosphere more intimate for each table. Paige and Azzi sat at a table near the back like always, legs pressed together beneath the tablecloth. Paige’s arm was casually draped along the back of Azzi’s chair, fingers occasionally brushing her shoulder or her neck in a way that felt possessive and protective at once.

They were in the middle of a conversation. Azzi tilted her head, swirling the wine in her glass as looked at Paige with amusement. “You literally said, ‘This wine stuff’s kinda boring unless you’re cute.’”

Paige shook her head, trying to fight the smile tugging at her lips. “That’s not what I said. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

Azzi leaned into her slightly, close enough that Paige could smell her perfume. “I’m not, I’m quoting you. Word for word. Then you looked at me and winked.”

Paige laughed, taking a sip of her wine before mumbling, “That doesn’t sound like me.”

Azzi gave her a look, smirking. “You winked, Paige. There was literally a witness.”

“Okay fine, maybe I winked. But I didn’t say the wine part was boring.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “You absolutely said it was boring.”

Paige turned in her seat slightly, angling toward her more. “Alright alright, maybe I did say it. But only ‘cause you looked too good for me to pretend like I care about what a wine’s body means. Specially when yours was right there.”

Azzi blinked once before laughing, trying to hide her smile behind the rim of her glass. “That’s your excuse?”

“Mmhmm.” Paige let her hand slip down just slightly behind Azzi’s chair so her fingers brushed the small of her back. “You got me out here talkin’ reckless over pinot noir. You should be proud.”

Azzi tried to play it cool, but her eyes darted down to Paige’s mouth for a second too long. She turned her head, pretending to refocus on the tasting menu in front of them. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you already undressed me in your head twice.”

Paige grinned, the corner of her mouth twitching as she leaned back a bit, moving to drape her arm over the back of Azzi’s chair again. “Twice?” she echoed. “That’s definitely lowballin’ it.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she swirled her wine. “You’re so unserious.”

“But you like that about me,” Paige said, her voice quieter now. Her fingers brushed against the side of Azzi’s neck under the guise of adjusting her arm. “Don’t lie.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly in challenge, but there was a smile tugging at her lips she couldn’t hide. “I tolerate it.”

“Tolerate it so much you let me take you out.”

Azzi raised her glass. “I came for the wine, actually.”

Paige leaned in again, close enough that Azzi stilled for a moment. “You always stay for me though.”

Azzi didn’t respond right away. She took a sip instead, eyes locked on Paige’s over the rim of her glass. Then, slowly, she set it down and whispered, “Don’t get cocky.”

“It’s not cocky if it’s true.”

Azzi bit back a smile, nudging Paige’s thigh gently with hers. “Keep talkin’ like that and I’m not responsible for what happens later.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, lips parting like she was about to say something bold—but then she caught herself, laughing under her breath. “You tryna out-flirt me right now?”

Azzi rested her chin on her hand, looking at her with a calm sort of confidence. “Who said I’m trying?”

Paige leaned back a little, smirking. “This isn’t you trying?”

Azzi batted her lashes once at Paige. “Not at all, baby.”

Then casually Azzi rested her hand on Paige’s thigh. Not just her knee or above it, but higher, her fingers grazing the fabric just where Paige’s quad curved. Her thumb moved slightly, brushing in a small, slow arc like she wasn’t even thinking about it.

Paige looked down at the touch, then back up at Azzi with a sucked-in cheek and a bite of her lip, like she was weighing whether to say something slick—or just kiss her.

Before she could do either, the server approached with a fresh flight of wines. He placed the glasses down carefully, giving his well-rehearsed spiel: “This round is a Syrah—fruit-forward with a little spice on the finish.”

Azzi retracted her hand smoothly, fingers grazing Paige’s thigh on the way down as she picked up a new glass. Her expression never faltered, like her hand hadn’t just been inches from making Paige forget what planet she was on.

Paige cleared her throat and took the glass in front of her, eyeing Azzi sideways. “Spice on the finish, huh?”

Azzi glanced at her over the rim of her glass. “Sounds familiar.”

Paige choked on a laugh, covering her mouth just as the server walked away. “You really wanna do this here?”

Azzi gave her a beautiful smile and shrugged, sipping the wine like nothing was phasing her. “What? I’m just appreciating the wine love.”

Paige narrowed her eyes and leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of Azzi’s ear as she dropped her voice. “Keep playing, and imma forget we’re in a public setting.”

Azzi took another slow sip, but her cheeks warmed. “That's your problem, P, not mine.”

Paige just chuckled again, the kind knowing laugh that lingered as she sat back and finally brought her glass to her lips. Shaking her head because Azzi didn’t know what she was getting into.

From there, the mood shifted, the space between them had shrunk. The wine loosened them up and somehow wound them up at the same time, like every glance and touch lingered a second too long.

Paige’s arm rested more firmly behind Azzi now, her fingers messing with the back of Azzi’s neck every time she leaned in. Their legs were fully pressed together beneath the table, and neither of them moved to fix it.

Azzi took another sip of her wine, and when she set the glass down, Paige leaned in, her lips brushing beside her ear.

“You know I been thinking about you all day,” Paige murmured, her voice low and steady. “It;s your fault though. That skirt you got on... you really gon’ wear that around me and expect me to not say something?”

Azzi smiled, cheeks flushing, but she didn’t move away. “You like it?” she asked, a little smug.

“Liked it so much I almost stopped by your office again just to see it one more time.”

Azzi turned slightly to look at her, lashes low as she whispered, “Almost?”

Paige’s fingers traced up Azzi’s thigh. “Had to save some self-control for tonight.”

Azzi bit her lip, playing along, leaning in like she was going to say something—but instead she tilted her head slightly, giving Paige even more access to her ear. “Mmm.”

Paige leaned in closer. “I keep picturing you in that skirt on my lap… whispering in my ear...”

“You’re really trying to start something in a wine bar?”

Paige smirked, her lips brushing Azzi’s ear now. “Start? Baby, I’m already halfway through the scene in my head.”

Azzi giggled, eyes glinting with interest as she turned toward her, noses nearly touching. “Oh yeah?” she murmured.

Paige tilted forward like she was about to kiss her—but Azzi leaned back, just enough to dodge it, her lips still curved.

“Not here baby,” she said softly.

Paige tilted her head slightly, her eyes dropping to Azzi’s lips and lingering there. “Why not?” she whispered, her voice a little more hoarse now, a little more affected. The wine running it’s course through both of them.

Azzi laughed under her breath, leaning back in her chair just enough to breathe. “I can see the headlines now. Dallas Wings star caught.’”

Paige licked her lips, not even trying to hide how she was looking at her. “Don’t nobody in here know who I am.”

Azzi raised her eyebrow as she finished the last bit of wine in one of her glasses. “You’re really underestimating your visibility, Miss Bueckers.”

Paige shrugged, her fingers now drawing circles on Azzi’s thigh. “Visibility’s overrated,” she muttered. “Nobody in here’s paying attention.”

Azzi shot her a pointed look. “They are. You just don’t care.”

Paige leaned in again, her breath hot on Azzi’s neck as she whispered, “I only care about you right now baby.”

Azzi’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she pressed the tip of her index finger to Paige’s chest, holding her back with a smirk. “You keep sweet-talking me and we’re going to finish the night early.”

Paige grinned, biting her bottom lip. “Say the word.”

Azzi let out a low laugh, shaking her head as she looked forward again, but her fingers slid across the seat beneath the table, finding Paige’s hand and lacing them together. She gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You’re insane,” she whispered, unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.

“I know and you love that shit so let’s stop playing.” Paige said the words laced with an arrogance that made Azzi pause for a beat.

She turned to look at her, eyebrows raised in surprise—not because of the words themselves, but because of the shift in tone. Paige, who was usually teasing, soft, sweet… had said it with something different in her voice. A little rougher. A little bolder. A little more her.

The surprise flickered in Azzi’s eyes, but so did something else lower in her stomach.

“You’re feeling yourself tonight, huh?” she asked, trying to play it off but her eyes told the truth. She loved it.

Paige’s tongue swiped across her bottom lip, eyes locked on Azzi like she already knew exactly what was going through her mind. “Nah baby I’m just feeling you. I keep telling you that mama.”

Azzi laughed again, quieter this time, more breath than sound, like she was trying to keep herself composed.

Just then, their waiter approached with their final flight—four new wines lined up with elegant precision. He began explaining each one, describing notes of citrus and oak, subtle spices, a bold finish. But Paige barely heard a word.

She was staring at Azzi.

Her elbow rested casually on the back of Azzi’s chair, body angled toward her, and while the waiter’s voice filled the air, Paige’s gaze stayed fixed on the curve of Azzi’s lips, the way her fingers delicately spun the stem of her new glass, how her tongue peeked out just briefly to wet her bottom lip. Paige’s eyes dropped for a beat before lifting again, hunger flickering behind them.

Thoughts were clearly running wild behind her eyes.

Azzi could feel it—could feel her looking. She slowly glanced over, catching her in the act, and raised her eyebrows like really? while the poor waiter was still talking about “mouthfeel.”

Paige didn’t even flinch. She just smirked, leaned in a little, and whispered, “Swear I don’t care about what he’s describing, I’m just tryna remember what you taste like. Been too long.”

Azzi’s eyes widened for a split second before she snapped her head forward, covering her laugh behind a cough. She was blushing now, nose wrinkling with effort as she tried to keep it together.

“You are so inappropriate,” she whispered through her teeth.

“M’just being honest. Too drunk to care.”

Azzi smiled, shaking her head as she squeezed Paige’s thigh.

Paige looked up at the waiter briefly, offered a tight-lipped smile like she hadn’t just whispered something filthy a second ago, and nodded along to his last words.

The moment he walked away, Azzi turned to her with a sigh, trying to act annoyed but failing. “You can’t behave for one second, can you?”

Paige grinned, reaching under the table to trail her fingers up the inside of Azzi’s thigh. “Didn’t hear you ask me to.”

Azzi inhaled sharply, then clamped her legs together, placing a warning hand over Paige’s. “Okay. Finish your wine,” she said with a smile, “before I actually get up and make us leave early.”

Paige chuckled, lifting her glass. “You keep saying that like it’s a threat.”

Azzi’s eyes were still dancing, but Paige could see the shift—how that usual collected edge softened just a little. So she pushed Azzi’s thighs apart, trailing her hand higher. Azzi didn’t move Paige’s hand this time. In fact, she let it stay there, her thigh tense beneath Paige’s palm.

Paige leaned in again, voice low. “You’re shaking.”

Azzi didn’t deny it. Her gaze flicked to Paige’s lips, then up to her eyes, and for a brief second, she looked like she wanted to say something but all that came out was a breathy, “Maybe I’m just cold.”

Paige smirked, brushing her thumb higher against the inside of Azzi’s thigh. “I promise I can warm you up.”

Azzi bit her bottom lip, her breath catching. She turned slightly, shifting to face Paige more directly now, her shoulder pressed into Paige’s chest. “We’re in public baby,” she whispered, the words slipping out softer than she intended. As if the point she was making became less important every time Paige spoke.

Paige leaned her forehead against Azzi’s temple, her lips barely grazing her skin as she murmured, “I told you I don’t care. I only care about you right now.”

Azzi’s eyes fluttered shut for a second like she was giving in to the feeling—then she caught herself and pulled back slightly, cheeks flushed, lips parted.

They stared at each other, the tension between them thick, almost heavy enough to pull them together.

Then, without another word, they both lifted their glasses.

They tipped them back in sync, draining the rest of their wine in silence—Azzi’s throat moving in slow swallows, Paige watching with an appreciative flicker in her gaze.

Paige set her glass down, reached for her wallet, and pulled out a few bills. She tossed them on the table—enough to cover the wine and leave a tip that was more than generous. Then she stood and extended her hand.

Azzi slipped her hand into Paige’s, letting herself be helped up, and with a small smile tugging at her lips, she stepped slightly ahead to lead the way out.

Paige followed, their fingers laced, her eyes shamelessly trailing the way Azzi’s skirt hugged her hips, the way her legs looked in her heels, the sway in her walk just enough to make Paige shake her head to herself. “Unreal,” she muttered under her breath, a small grin curling at the corners of her mouth.

Even distracted, Paige didn’t miss the door. As they reached the exit, she took two quick strides to slip around and pulled the restaurant door open.

Azzi glanced at her, eyes warm with a smile that said she noticed—and appreciated—every little thing Paige did. She stepped past her slowly, squeezing their interlaced hands.

They walked toward the car, the air cooler now, a soft breeze catching Azzi’s curls as they reached the vehicle waiting on the other side of the street. Once again without saying anything Paige moved ahead, opening the back door.

Azzi lets Paige help her in, her fingers lingering a second longer than necessary before she drops her hand. Paige closed the door gently behind her before making her way to the other side and sliding in next to her.

The low glow of the car’s interior lights flickered softly at the open door before fading out. Paige felt a subtle wave of relief wash over her when she looked up to see the partition still closed.

She doesn’t even let Azzi reach for her seatbelt. The moment she settles, Paige slides across the leather seat and pulls Azzi closer, one hand on her waist, the other finding the curve of her thigh. There's barely an inch between them now—heat passing back and forth, both of their hearts out of rhythm.

“You look too fucking good, baby,” Paige murmurs, her lips grazing Azzi’s jaw as she speaks.

The way she says it—not just the words, but the desperation in her tone—sends a jolt through Azzi. Her heart spikes, and warmth spreads like wildfire in her stomach. Without thinking, Azzi crosses her legs tightly, trying to settle the ache building in between them. Paige notices, her eyes dropping for the briefest moment.

Her jaw tenses.

She swallows hard.

Because as much as she loves Azzi—loves her deeply, in ways she’s never fully said out loud—none of her current thoughts are gentle. None of them are respectful.

Her hand tightens at Azzi’s waist, but she doesn’t move closer. She just looks at her, blue eyes dark and swirling with everything she wants to do but isn’t sure she should because they’re still not at home.

Azzi noticed the shift in Paige—the way her breath hitched, the sudden tension in her shoulders. But she didn’t back away. Instead, she leaned in and reached up to Paige’s chest. Her fingers found the silver chain resting against her shirt and began to play with it, twisting it gently between her fingers.

Paige couldn’t take her eyes off her.

Azzi’s gaze stayed on hers—like she already knew exactly what Paige was thinking. Like she was openly inviting it but was waiting for Paige to say something.

The silence in the backseat was heavy. Not a word between them, but everything was loud—the way Paige’s heart pounded against her ribs, the way Azzi’s breathing was shallow, the way heat pooled in both of their stomachs. Paige felt like her whole body was on fire, her restraint slipping fast, her thoughts dangerously unchecked.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to fuck you this bad, baby,” Paige whispered, her voice rough and broken at the edges.

Azzi didn’t respond. She just smirked, eyes still locked on Paige’s, and gave the chain a gentle tug—pulling her in, closing that last inch of space.

Their lips met like it was inevitable—slow and heated as their tongues traced one another’s mouths. Paige let out a low, involuntary sound from the back of her throat, something caught between a sigh and a moan, her hand sliding up to cup Azzi’s jaw. Her fingers curled beneath her ear, holding her in place like she couldn't bear the thought of any distance between them.

Azzi’s grip on Paige’s chain tightened, knuckles tight as she tugged her closer, their mouths moving together like they’d been waiting for this moment to explode between them. And it did—every brush of their tongues, every pull, was laced with desperation.

Paige tilted her head slightly and bit down on Azzi’s bottom lip—just enough to make her gasp, her breath catching in her throat before melting into a quiet moan that slipped out without permission.

Paige trailed her lips down the side of Azzi’s jaw, hot breath fanning against her skin. Her mouth found the space just below her ear, her tongue flicking and dragging, followed by soft bites that made Azzi’s fingers twitch against her chain. She pressed her lips to every exposed inch she could find, lapping sloppily at her neck before nipping just above her collarbone.

Azzi let her head tilt back, eyes fluttering shut, her chest rising and falling in tandem with Paige’s movements. Her hand was now holding Paige’s head like she wasn’t sure whether to pull her closer or stop her before she lost all composure in the backseat of a moving car.

“P…” Azzi whispered, like maybe she was trying to be the voice of reason—but even her breathy voice didn’t sound convinced. Her body arched toward Paige’s touch, and her fingers pushed into Paige’s hair that was pulled into a bun.

Paige didn’t stop. She just hummed against Azzi’s skin like she was somewhere else entirely, drunk on the taste of her neck, the feel of her, the heat radiating off her body in waves. Her kisses slowed, then paused, lips grazing the curve of Azzi’s neck one last time before she pulled back just enough to look at her.

Azzi’s breath got stuck at the sight.

Paige looked disheveled in the most gorgeous way. Her lips were slightly swollen, a soft blush painting her cheeks, and her blue eyes were dark and glassy—dilated. A strand of her hair had come loose from her bund and fallen across her forehead, messy and untamed in a way that made Azzi’s core pulse.

“Wassup?” Paige asked, she was trying to play it cool, but the desire behind her eyes gave her away.

Azzi opened her mouth, ready to say something, anything—but the words didn’t come. She blinked slowly, lips parting then closing again, her brain blank as she looked at Paige. She didn’t remember why she’d said her name. Didn’t remember why she was supposed to stop this.

All she could focus on was the way Paige was looking at her. The way the alcohol combined with not seeing Paige, being touched by Paige for so long made every inch of her body crave the athlete.

All she could feel was the ache between her legs and the way her heart was pounding. “I…” Azzi started, but then just shook her head with a breathless laugh. “I don’t know. Never mind.”

Paige grinned, leaning in again, close enough to brush the tip of her nose against Azzi’s. “That’s what I thought.”

Azzi didn’t say another word; she just tugged Paige forward by the front of her shirt, crashing their mouths together in a kiss that was messier than the first. This one was different—urgent and impatient, like they were trying to make up for every second they’d spent apart over the last week and a half.

Paige groaned into it, her hands gripping Azzi’s waist. Azzi leaned back against the seat, and Paige followed, not caring about the angle.

Azzi’s hands moved without thought, reaching up to undo the bun at the back of Paige’s head. The moment her fingers loosened the bun, Paige’s hair tumbled down around her face. Azzi let out a quiet sound of approval, threading her fingers through the blonde strands.

Still kissing her, Azzi’s hands found the top button of Paige’s shirt and made quick work of it, then the next, and the next. Paige’s breath caught when Azzi’s knuckles brushed against her skin, but she didn’t stop her.

By the time Azzi reached the last button, her fingers were already pushing the fabric off Paige’s shoulders, revealing the warm, flushed skin underneath. Paige shivered at the cold air, but didn’t flinch—just pressed herself closer, hands sliding up Azzi’s back as if to say keep going.

The second Paige’s shirt slipped off completely and pooled somewhere on the floor of the car, her black tank top clinging to the warm curves of her body, she guided Azzi lower against the seat—just enough so Paige could hover over her, lips latching onto the curve of her neck.

Azzi’s head fell back against the leather seat, breath catching as Paige’s mouth moved deliberately, sucking at the sensitive skin.

Her fingers, half-shaking, found the belt loop of Paige’s pants, and she began to undo the buckle, metal softly clinking in the backseat.

Paige’s hand slid up Azzi’s thigh, pushing at her skirt a little bit as she deepened the kiss against her neck, whispering something into her skin that made Azzi bite her lip and arch into Paige, her free hand tangling back in her loosened hair.

Azzi let out a soft sound as Paige sucked just beneath her jaw, the vibrations shooting straight through her. Her hand slipped under the hem of Paige’s tank top, fingertips grazing the warm ab muscles. Paige hummed at this, her hand gripping Azzi’s thigh tighter as she pushed her hips into Azzi.

There was a soft knock against the tinted window.

But neither of them heard it.

Azzi was opening her legs further for Paige now, eyes fluttering shut as she arched into her touch. Paige’s lips moved lower again, leaving another mark she didn’t even bother trying to hide. Her other hand slid in between Azzi’s legs, pushing her skirt up further in an attempt to gain better access.

Knock. Knock. Louder this time.

The sound sliced through the fog surrounding them. They slowly pulled away from one another, eyes dazed, breathing uneven. Paige’s pupils were completely blown, lips swollen from kissing, jaw tight as she looked down at Azzi. Her black tank top was pushed up her chest and her belt hung open at her hips. Azzi’s hair was tousled, her bottom lip glistening where Paige had bitten it, her expression caught between frustration and breathless disbelief.

Neither one of them spoke for a moment.

Then Paige whispered. “We’re at your place.”

Azzi barely nodded.

The second knock on the window still echoed in the back of their minds as they stepped out of the car, not even pretending to pull themselves together, Paige only pulling Azzi’s skirt down before they stepped out. The cool air hit them, but it didn’t help—didn’t cool the heat between them. Paige helped Azzi out first, hand slipping a little too low on her back, and Azzi leaned into her, lips grazing Paige’s neck as she murmured a breathy, distracted, “Thank you, Sam,” to the driver standing outside the vehicle.

Sam gave a polite nod and immediately turned away, pretending not to notice anything.

Paige didn’t even glance at him—her hand was already tangled in Azzi’s, the other wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her close as Azzi nipped at her jaw as they stumbled toward the front door, completely lost in each other.

Paige wrapped herself around Azzi from behind when they reached the door, her arms slipping around her waist, lips finding the slope of her neck. She kissed and nipped at her skin between hushed, breathy whispers that made Azzi’s fingers tremble as she tried to find the key.

“Can't believe I let you wear this out the house…” Paige whispered against her ear.

Azzi shivered, laughing softly under her breath as she fumbled with the lock. “You didn't say anything on the phone this morning when I was getting dressed,” she said, breath hitching as Paige’s teeth grazed her pulse point.

“That was me trying to behave.”

“Not doing a great job now,” Azzi mumbled, finally getting the key in after the third try.

The door clicked open and they practically stumbled inside, still tangled up in each other, neither willing to break contact. Azzi pushed the door shut behind them, but Paige had already spun her around, backing her up against it as their lips met again.

Paige’s hand blindly reached behind her to twist the lock with a soft click, not pulling her eyes from Azzi. The second it was secure, her fingers slid to the buttons of Azzi’s shirt, moving with ease. One after another, they came undone under her touch, and Paige pushed the low V-neck button up off Azzi’s shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

She started to lean in again—ready to attach her lips to the exposed chest—but paused mid-motion when her eyes dropped.

Red lace.

Paige blinked once, twice, her breath catching as her gaze lingered on the delicate fabric clinging to Azzi’s chest, the bold color looking criminal on her tan skin.

“Jesus christ,” Paige muttered, her brain short-circuiting for a full second. She let her eyes drag back up to Azzi’s face, jaw tight, eyes somehow appearing darker than before. “You wore this on purpose.”

Azzi tilted her head with a slow smirk, saying nothing—but the glint in her eyes said everything. She didn’t even try to speak—just pulled Paige into another desperate kiss, their mouths sliding together. Paige’s hands were everywhere—gripping Azzi’s waist, sliding down her back, tugging her closer as they moved with no coordination toward the stairs, each of them kicking off their shoes. Every step was clumsy, rushed, their breaths ragged and uneven.

“Fuck,” Paige groaned against Azzi’s lips, her voice wrecked. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me…”

Azzi’s knees nearly buckled at the sound of Paige’s voice. Digging her fingers into Paige’s arms to stay stable as Paige’s teeth grazed her neck. “I do. I was hoping you’d see it,” she whispered, just before Paige captured her lips again.

They made it halfway up the stairs before Azzi had to press a hand to the wall to steady herself, laughing breathlessly between kisses. “We’re not gonna make it to my room at this rate.”

Paige shook her head, her lips dragging down Azzi’s throat. “Then move faster, baby. I need you.”

The desperation in her voice lit a fire under Azzi, making her pick up the pace down the hallway, passing the guest rooms until she reached her own at the end. Her hands trembled as she reached for the door handle, Paige still pressed against her back, lips hot against her neck as her hands slid up beneath her skirt.

The second the door clicked open, they stumbled inside. Paige kicked it shut behind them, already tugging at Azzi’s skirt, fingers finding the zipper and dragging it down with deliberate care.

When it slipped off Azzi’s hips, Paige once again froze—her breath catching in her throat.

Because if the red lace bra had stunned her before, what it was matched to made her mind go completely blank. Matching red lace, delicate and sheer, hugged Azzi’s hips—attached with a small, garter belt clipped high up her thigh so Paige couldn’t feel it earlier. It made Paige forget where they were, who she was, and how to speak entirely.

“Holy… shit,” she breathed, eyes locked on Azzi like she was something out of a dream she’d been afraid to ask for.

Azzi smirked despite how hard her chest was rising and falling. “You going to just stare, P…or do something about it?”

Paige’s gaze flicked up to meet hers, but she still didn’t move. It was like she physically couldn’t. Her eyes were devouring Azzi—tracing every single inch. The way her dark, hazy brown eyes burned. The fullness of her lips. Her curly hair messily flipped to one side. The curve of her chest. Her body, perfectly hugged by the lace that left very little to the imagination. Paige’s mouth parted slightly, like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Just air. Just awe.

Azzi tilted her head, watching her watch her. She let Paige soak it all in, just for a second longer—relishing the way her presence alone had Paige stuck. Then slowly, she stepped forward and reached out, fingers slipping into the front of Paige’s waistband as she tugged her gently toward the bed.

Paige followed, almost dazed, her movements slow, breath shallow. When they reached the edge of the mattress, Azzi flipped their positions with ease—guiding Paige backwards before giving her a light push that had her sitting down, legs spreading slightly on instinct as Azzi climbed on top of her.

Paige’s hands instantly found her thighs, gripping them as her eyes flicked up. “You tryna kill me tonight or some?” she murmured.

Azzi leaned in, lips just brushing Paige’s ear. “Not kill you,” she whispered. “Just work you up a little.”

Paige swallowed hard, the sound audible in the quiet room, her throat bobbing as she looked up at Azzi. Her hands moved up to grip Azzi’s hips tighter. “Fuck, baby you’re so–shit I don’t even know” she whispered, voice unstable.

Azzi smiled down at her, leaning in closer. “Shh,” she breathed, lips ghosting over the shell of Paige’s ear. “Just sit there and be quiet, P.”

Before Paige could even think of replying, Azzi’s mouth was on her neck—soft, then biting, then soft again—her tongue trailing across every inch of skin she could reach. Paige’s head tilted back with a low gasp, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s sides as her body reacted to each kiss.

Azzi’s hands moved with slow, confident purpose, slipping down to the hem of Paige’s black tank. Her fingers slid beneath it, pushing the fabric up until the tight muscle of Paige’s abdomen was exposed. Paige’s breath hitched, her stomach tightening under Azzi’s touch as her whole body seemed to vibrate under her.

Azzi pulled back just enough to look down at her, breath fanning across Paige’s skin. “You’re so fucking sexy,” she whispered, fingers tracing the subtle dip between Paige’s ribs.

Paige let out a breathy groan when Azzi suddenly bit down on the curve of her neck, a little harsher this time, like she was claiming her. Paige’s hips lifted instinctively, her body aching for more. She tried to use that leverage to flip them, her hands pressing to Azzi’s waist.

But Azzi caught them. She grabbed both of Paige’s wrists and laced their fingers together, pushing them gently but firmly above Paige’s head, pinning them to the mattress as her thighs tightened around Paige’s hips.

Paige’s breath caught, her eyes burning into Azzi’s. “Why you tryna tease me? You know how much I want you.”

Azzi leaned in close, her nose brushing Paige’s. “I’m trying to help but I need you to stay still for me, baby.”

Paige nodded, breath shaky. But Azzi still didn’t let go of her wrists—one hand stayed firmly above Paige’s head, anchoring her in place.

Then Azzi started moving again.

Her lips trailed down Paige’s neck, teeth grazing just enough to make Paige gasp. She left a mark just below her collarbone, then another right along the neckline of the bunched up tank top.

“God, I love those,” Paige murmured, her voice a whisper of need. Her head tilted back slightly, eyes fluttering every time she felt Azzi suck at her skin.

Azzi didn’t answer. Her mouth continued its descent, soft kisses and sharp nips scattered down Paige’s torso. Paige’s abs tensed beneath her each time, breath catching when Azzi licked a slow stripe right under her ribs.

Azzi finally reached Paige’s waistband, her free hand playing lightly with the open belt and fabric of her pants. But instead of moving further, her dark eyes flicked up. Paige was already watching her, mouth parted, chest rising and falling like she’d run a mile.

Azzi smirked then leaned forward and licked a slow path back up Paige’s stomach, her tongue warm and wet, never breaking eye contact.

Paige’s eyes fluttered, struggling to hold the gaze, completely unraveled by the sight of Azzi crawling up her like that.

“F—fuck,” Paige mumbled, the word barely formed. “What the hell you doing to me, baby?”

Azzi just hummed at the sound of her voice, the vibrations low in her throat as she shifted slightly helping Paige pull her tank top and sports bra over her head, discarding them somewhere off the side of the bed.

The sight of Paige—bare skin flushed, taut muscles flexing slightly with every shaky breath, her chest rising and falling like she was barely holding it together—lit something deeper in Azzi. Her mouth parted slightly as her gaze traced over every inch of her.

Then Azzi was back on her—her fingers working quickly at the button of Paige’s jeans, dragging them open and tugging them down her legs to reveal the boxers underneath.

Azzi bit her bottom lip as she took Paige in. “You’re unreal,” she whispered, almost like she was saying it to herself as she traced the hem of the boxers.

Paige’s hips lifted slightly in response, silently asking for more, but her eyes didn’t leave Azzi’s body. “You—fuck, Azzi. You’re so perfect,” she murmured, gaze still caught on the red lace hugging Azzi’s frame like it was made just for her. “Look so good with your lace on baby.”

Azzi chuckled. “Yeah?” she teased, brushing her fingers along Paige’s side as she moved back up her torso. “Then maybe I’ll keep it on a little longer for you.”

Azzi leaned back down, capturing her mouth in another kiss. Azzi pushed herself into Paige’s stomach as they kissed, her body rolling into the contact, needing it just as much.

When Paige felt it—felt just how much Azzi wanted her, how wet Azzi was for her—she gasped against her lips and whispered, “Jesus Christ, baby. I haven’t even touched you.”

Paige’s head tipped back for just a second, her eyes fluttering shut as she tried to get her breath under control. But Azzi didn’t let up—not with her lips, not with her hands, not with the way her body moved just enough against Paige’s abs to drive her crazy and relieve some of the pressure in her own stomach.

“Azzi…” Paige whispered, her voice fraying at the edges. She moved her hands from above her head, placing them on Azzi’s hips and guiding her into a slow, grinding rhythm—helping her push harder, like she was trying to take control of the moment as Azzi’s wetness started to spread across her stomach.

Azzi let her have it for a beat or two, her lips curving into a smile as she watched Paige’s brows furrow, her jaw tighten, her chest rising fast beneath her. She liked the way Paige moved—needy, focused, just on the edge of losing it.

But then Paige tried to sit up again when Azzi let a moan slip out, once again trying to flip their position.

Azzi pressed both hands to Paige’s shoulders and shoved her right back down against the mattress. “I thought I told you to stop moving. Are you that desperate for me baby?”

Paige didn’t even bother to deny it. Her fingers dug deeper into Azzi’s waist, pulling her down harder against her as she whispered, “Of course I am. I can’t help it—you feel too good.”

Azzi’s lips twitched in a slow smirk. “I know I do,” and just like that, she rolled her hips down harder, biting at her lip, drawing a deep, broken sound from Paige’s throat.

Azzi leaned in, lips brushing the corner of Paige’s mouth. “Now be good, and let me take care of you.”

Paige nods as Azzi slowly starts kissing down her body again.

Azzi’s fingers grabbed the material of Paige’s boxers only tugging slightly before pressing her mouth to Paige's clothed center, feeling how wet Paige was through it.

Azzi let out a hum at this, kissing Paige’s center one more time before kissing back up to Paige's stomach.

Paige tenses her jaw at the teasing as she squirms a little before saying, "I swear Imma fuck you through this mattress when you’re done."

Azzi chuckles at this, clearly not taking Paige seriously as she moves back down attaching her lips to Paige’s thigh. She leaves a few soft kisses before sucking dark marks on the pale skin. Looking up at Paige to see her head tipped back and her lip between her teeth.

"Baby let me hear you." Azzi whispers, completely still until Paige follows directions.

Paige lets go of her lip mumbling out, “Shit m’sorry mama.”

At this apology Azzi finally moves to take off Paige’s boxers. Paige lifting her hips immediately to make the process easier as Azzi discards them without looking away from Paige, the sight causing her to nearly fall apart.

Paige was so soaked, the center of her body completely slick and pooling onto the sheets. The sight mixed with Paige laying completely bare in front of her, bright marks fanned all over the woman’s skin had Azzi’s mouth watering.

Azzi moved to adjust herself between Paige’s legs trailing her fingers in between Paige’s folds, slowly spreading her apart.

Paige's breath hitches when Azzi blows into her, the wetness mixed with the cool air causing her stomach to flutter. She pushes her hand into Azzi’s head. "Baby please-" she starts but she doesn’t get very far. The words falling off her lips when Azzi licks up her slit.

Azzi’s tongue begins to move slowly but expertly against Paige, causing quiet moans to slip past the blonde's lips.

Once Azzi finds a nice rhythm she takes Paige completely into her mouth, using her tongue to part Paige's folds and push into her with her tongue.

"Oh shit, baby." Paige whispers. Her legs already shaking slightly around Azzi’s head. "You feel so fucking good pretty."

Azzi digs her nails lightly into Paige’s skin, leaving marks on her thighs as Paige’s head falls back against the pillow mumbling something incoherent about not being able to last long.

This causes Azzi to look up, whispering “S’ok baby you’re doing so good for me I promise." Then she’s reattaching her lips to Paige’s center leaning her head on Paige’s thigh as she finds her rhythm again.

Paige is in complete awe as she looks down at Azzi for a few minutes, seeing her long curly hair, the red lingerie, the way Azzi is completely wrapped up in her. “You’re so beautiful Azzi baby. Swear you’re doing so good.”

A strangled moan falls from Paige’s mouth when Azzi pushes her tongue further into her, pushing at her walls in acknowledgement.

Azzi feels Paige’s legs begin to tighten and wanting to add to the sensation Azzi adjusts slightly before easing two of her fingers into Paige, working her fingers into her slowly as she continues to lick at her clit.

Paige’s hand pushes Azzi’s head down forcing her closer at the added feeling. "Shit Az…shit, I’m close baby."

Paige’s moans are music to Azzi’s ears as she pushes further into her girlfriend, Paige’s arousal making it effortless to work into her.

Azzi hums as she pulls her lips from Paige for a second mumbling, “I know love. Lemme have it baby,” before she attaches right back to Paige’s clit.

Paige nods at Azzi’s words, her legs starting to tremble. It only takes Azzi curling her fingers a few more times before Paige is gasping, her back arching up from the mattress. "Oh shit—baby I…shit m'cumming baby-” a loud moan and a slew of Azzi’s name rolling off her tongue cuts Paige off before she can finish her sentence.

Her hands tighten in Azzi’s long hair, tugging and pushing as she grinds against her to ride out her orgasm. Before she pushes Azzi's mouth away from her sensitive clit.

As Azzi slides her fingers out of Paige she’s still attempting to gather herself, her chest rising and following as she stares up at the ceiling.

Azzi climbs up her body, straddling her waist as Paige’s eyes find her. Paige’s eyes are completely glazed over and when Azzi sucks her own fingers into her mouth, eyes rolling back at the taste of her girlfriend Paige considers proposing right then and there. Willing to give up every cent to her name to have Azzi forever.

Paige exhales before she’s sitting up to roll them over, hovering over Azzi. "You're so perfect," she mumbles before connecting their lips, humming at the taste of herself on Azzi’s lips before she’s trailing her mouth down Azzi’s neck.

Azzi tugs at Paige’s hair, making her look up at her as she mumbles a little embarrassingly, “I can’t wait, baby,” her eyes flicking between Paige’s lips and eyes.

Paige’s mouth curls into a smirk. “You need it that bad?” she whispers, dragging her lips along Azzi’s jaw.

Azzi nods—her body already moving beneath Paige’s like she’s chasing contact. All that dominance she’d held moments ago flickering now, replaced with her desire to be

touched after so long.

Paige hums as she moves down Azzi’s body, eyes trailing to the dark spot on the red lace.

Under the guise of Azzi’s impatience but really just missing this herself Paige takes Azzi into her mouth for a moment, groaning at the taste despite the barrier between them causing Azzi to let out a small whimper at the vibration.

Paige begins to undo the lace pulling it down Azzi’s long legs. Once the lace is discarded Azzi doesn’t even have a moment before Paige is licking at her center completely losing herself in the taste of Azzi a little selfishly.

Azzi lets out a loud moan when Paige’s tongue pushes into her. “Oh fuck yes—Just like that baby, gimme more." She’s already pushing herself further into Paige’s mouth and the blonde easily takes the invitation, pulling Azzi forward as she lifts one of her calves over her shoulder.

"Swear I love how you taste baby." Paige whispers, her tongue tracing Azzi’s most sensitive spot, perfectly blue eyes locked on brown.

Azzi only hummed at Paige’s words using the leverage of her leg and her hands tangled in Paige’s hair to guide the blonde exactly where she wanted her. Somehow pushing Paige’s tongue deeper than it already was.

"You’re so so good love…but please I need more…please—need you to make me cum, baby." Azzi begged, thankful they were alone at her house instead of Paige’s.

Paige sat up, pulling herself from Azzi’s center peppering a few kisses as she did. Paige licked her lips clean as she reached over to Azzi’s bedside drawer grabbing the harness and strap. She gives Azzi a peck whispering, “You so impatient mama,” before sitting up so she can adjust the harness properly.

When she’s done she looks down at Azzi brushing her thumb gently across her bottom lip, wiping away the wetness left from their kiss. “You need my fingers first baby?” Paige already knows the answer. She can see it in the way Azzi’s hips are searching for any form of contact, the way her chest is still rapidly rising and falling despite Paige not touching her. Azzi’s past needing anything gentle. Still, Paige asks—because she always will.

Azzi shakes her head quickly, whispering out, “No baby.”

A pleased hum vibrates in Paige’s throat. She dips down, her lips ghosting along Azzi’s cheek giving her a gentle kiss before moving toward her ear. “I love you,” Paige whispers, before her tone dips slightly. “But I’m about to slut you out for talkin so much shit earlier, mama.”

For a moment, Azzi just blinks up at Paige, biting her lip, a little dazed at the thought, despite her usual preference for slower sex—then she nods.

Paige looks down, running the straps through Azzi’s folds a few times before she easies into her. She starts off slowly, giving Azzi time to adjust to the length with a few shallow thrusts. But then Azzi lets out a heavenly sound next to Paige’s ear, squeezing at her lower back.

The sensations go straight to Paige’s core and she speeds up her movements, looking down at the way Azzi is taking her in—completely in love with what she was seeing. She shook her head whispering, “Fuck you already taking it so well baby…can’t believe it.”

Azzi moaned out, “Feels so good that’s why,” pulling at Paige’s back in attempt to somehow bring her closer.

Realizing this Paige leaned in closer, sucking at Azzi’s neck as she moved her forearms to rest around Azzi’s head, caging her in.

Azzi whimpers at the closeness moving her arms to wrap around Paige’s neck.

Paige slows down her thrusts, rolling into Azzi harder at a deeper angle causing Azzi’s brown eyes to roll back. “Fuck baby you’re so deep…feels good.” Paige tightens her jaw as she feels the harness pushing into her already sensitive bud mumbling something before she’s pulling out of Azzi.

The brown-eyed girl protests this, her hips and hands chasing after Paige.

“Relax mama, I just gotta taste you again. Been too long, Imma get you right I promise.” Paige slides down Azzi’s body, hooking her legs with her arms holding her in place before she’s lapping at her again, finding a nice rhythm.

Paige hums into Azzi’s center as Azzi pushes her hips into Paige’s mouth. Matching each flick of Paige’s tongue with her own movements for a few minutes in complete bliss.

"Yes—yes just like that baby. I’m so close.”Azzi moaned, her legs starting to shake around Paige’s head.

Paige shook her head no mumbling, “Not yet sweetheart. Just started.” She held Azzi’s writhing hips down and pushed her tongue deeper causing Azzi to cry out. Paige’s name rolls off her tongue as her legs tighten around the blonde's head who continues to lap at Azzi like nothing is happening.

Then almost simultaneously another orgasm is rolling out of Azzi immediately and everything is too much. Her ears are ringing and her heartbeat is echoing through her entire body as she scrambles to push Paige’s head away.

Paige sits up, the entirety of her lower face wet as she grins at Azzi. She shifts up, her body hovering over Azzi's. Her lips brushed against Azzi's as she spoke, "You wanna taste, mama?"

Azzi nods before Paige can even finish speaking, her eyes glassy, lips parted in a silent plea. She looked completely fucked already-hair messy, chest rising and falling unevenly, a dazed look clouding her features that made Paige's stomach twist.

Paige cupped Azzi's jaw gently, her thumb brushing over her bottom lip before she pressed down slightly, coaxing her mouth open. "Open up for me, beautiful," she whispered. Azzi obeyed, her lips parting just as Paige leaned in closer. With her eyes locked on Azzi's, a trail of spit slipped from Paige's mouth and landed on Azzi's waiting tongue.

The second it hit, Azzi inhaled, her body arching into Paige’s as warmth rushed through her. Paige watched her reaction with hooded eyes, licking her lips as she whispered, "Good girl."

Paige shifted to the other side of the large mattress, her back pressing against the headboard as she sat up. She patted her thigh lightly, “C’mere.”

Azzi, still in that soft, hazy daze, moved without a word. Her body reacted before her brain could catch up, and she crawled over slowly, straddling Paige with an ease that made Paige's jaw tighten.

As Azzi settled into her lap, her arms looped around Paige’s shoulders and Paige let her hands glide over Azzi’s hips. Looking up at her like she was something unreal, something divine. Paige dragged her lips up Azzi’s jaw, whispering, “You look so fucked out already, and I haven’t even fucked you the way I want to yet.”

Azzi whimpered softly at that, burying her face in Paige’s neck for a moment as her fingers tightened slightly against her shoulders.

Paige just smirked, hands smoothing up Azzi’s back, feeling the warmth of her skin as she waited for Azzi to be ready.

Azzi lifts slightly, using Paige’s shoulders for support as she eases onto the strap, her eyes fluttering closed as she settles onto it. She spends a minute trying to set a rhythm, moving up and down as she's always done but her legs are already trembling every time she sinks back down on it and her movements are faltering.

Paige shakes her head whispering, "Know you can ride it better than that baby don’t play with me,” knowing it’ll spur Azzi on.

Right on cue Azzi tightens her jaw, pushing the sensitivity aside and her hips rise and fall at a quicker pace, her moans filling the room as she pushes her face into Paige’s neck, kissing and sucking at the pale skin.

"Mhmm. Shit baby—Yeah. Ride it just like that." Paige moans, her hands guiding Azzi’s hips.

Paige reaches behind Azzi, undoing the lace bra and throwing it to the side as she latches her mouth to Azzi’s chest. The combination of Paige’s mouth and the tip of the strap pushing into Azzi perfectly has her completely at a loss. No sounds falling out of her slack jaw.

Paige smirks up at her "You like that shit baby?"

Azzi nods frantically as she speeds up her movements. "Fuck yes baby. Love that. Love you.”

Paige begins to meet Azzi’s hips halfway, the entire length of the strap sliding in and out of her each time causing Azzi to let out a loud moan. "Shit oh my god—so…so—big baby, shit!" Azzi’s eyes rolled back at the feeling.

Each bounce and roll of Azzi’s hips pushed the harness into Paige. The blonde's hands tightening on Azzi’s ass as she struggles to find her own control. Her jaw tight as she watched Azzi bounce perfectly on top of her.

The band in Azzi’s stomach was unbearably tight and the burning feeling in her thighs was starting to be too much but she pushed through because of how much she could tell Paige was enjoying it.

Attempting to get Paige as close as she was, Azzi's hand moved to Paige’s neck squeezing it very slightly, nails digging into the skin as she pushed herself harder into Paige’s hips.

For a moment the only sounds in the room was their heavy breathing and the headboard hitting the wall as they worked into each other. Neither wanting to be the one who fell apart first.

"Shit baby—you’re doing so good for me. Just like that, need it just like that baby." Paige moaned out, squeezing at Azzi’s ass. She removes one of her hands, wetting it with her own spit before she’s rubbing at Azzi’s center, both of them keeping the frantic rhythm of their hips.

The sex they’re having is uncharacteristically loud. Both of them are complete messes as they attempt to get one another off.

“Yes right there—“ Azzi moans out as Paige pushes into her at a relentless pace, meeting Azzi every single time.

"Fuck, Azzi." Paige responds her legs starting to shake. "Shit—cum for me mama, l'm right there. Need you so bad baby."

Before either of them can say anything else they’re both seeing stars. The pressure too much to handle as they fall apart together, the orgasms rushing through them without their permission.

Azzi feels like she’s about to pass out and Paige is breathing heavily under her. Yet somehow Paige has the energy to pull out and put Azzi on her stomach, lifting the girl's hips into an arch exactly how she wants it.

Azzi hasn’t even come down from her last orgasm before Paige is pushing back into her. She can’t do anything but arch further into Paige, biting at her lip painfully hard as she grabs at the sheets for support.

Paige looks down at Azzi’s dripping center, thrusting in and out of her slowly, shaking her head in complete disbelief at the sight. She reaches forward wrapping Azzi’s curly hair into her hand gently before tugging it back to get a better view. Paige was completely drunk off of the sight of Azzi. The arch of her back, her fucked out expression on her face, her wetness dripping onto the sheets each time Paige pushed into her.

She smirks when she sees Azzi’s mouth open and close. Words completely lost on the girl. “Fucking you so good you can’t even talk to me huh baby.” Azzi nods and Paige somehow pushes deeper into her causing Azzi to let out a scream, tears building at the corners of her eyes.

“Feels so..so— fuck feels so good, baby." Azzi hiccups, her brain a complete mess.

Paige tugs Azzi back further, her back now pressed to Paige’s chest. She tilts Azzi’s jaw up towards the mirror on the ceiling that she’d gotten installed after an offhand comment Paige made. Paige whispers near her ear, “Open your eyes for me baby.”

Azzi’s eyes open slowly, her brown eyes hooded as she takes in the sight of the two of them. Paige wraps her hand around Azzi’s throat as she makes eye contact with Azzi in the mirror mumbling, “I’m so in love with you baby.”

Azzi nods, the rise and fall of her chest becoming erratic as she breathily says, “I—I love you too.”

“This my shit forever ok pretty?”

Azzi nods again.

Paige shakes her head, their eye contact in the mirror never breaking as Paige works into her faster. “You gotta say it for me. Use your words and tell me it’s mine forever baby.”

“I’m yours! Fuck it’s all yours baby—forever I promise,” Azzi cries out her body starting to tremble again.

“Finish for me then sweetheart. Wanna look at you while you cum for me.”

The words turn Azzi into mush as she screams Paige’s name as she finishes, a few tears falling down her cheeks. She collapses onto the bed, body still shaking as Paige follows her down to help ride it out.

But Azzi is so spent, so sensitive that she’s reaching back frantically, pushing Paige out of her. “Stop..stop baby. I can’t.” Paige immediately pulling out after hearing Azzi’s words.

Paige removes the harness, letting it fall to the side before she pulls Azzi into her arms carefully, guiding Azzi back against her chest. Azzi's body was still trembling, the aftershocks running through her.

Paige held her from behind as she pressed kisses to the bare skin of her back. The room quiet except for the sound of their breathing.

Every few seconds, Azzi’s legs trembled, and each time, Paige pulled her tighter. Her thumb brushing soothing circles over Azzi’s collarbone whispering I love you’s.

After a few minutes Paige glances down at Azzi—lips parted slightly, brows relaxed, completely lost to sleep. A small chuckle escaped Paige’s lips as she slowly untangled herself from Azzi and made her way to the bathroom. She grabbed a clean towel, soaked it with warm water, then wrung it out until it was just damp. Returning to the room, Paige kneels gently on the bed, taking her time as she wipes at Azzi’s thighs and legs knowing she’ll complain about sticky legs in the morning.

Once she finished, she padded back to the bathroom to rinse the towel and placed it on the sink to dry. On her way out, she spotted Azzi’s bonnet on the counter so she grabbed it before she walked back toward the bed. Taking a small moment to watch Azzi’s chest rise and fall in rhythm with her breathing—peacefully—safe. Paige swallows, pushing down the thought she’s having knowing it’s way too soon for that.

She climbs back into bed slowly, bonnet in hand, reaching to gently gather Azzi’s curls, doing her best not to wake her as she gathered them before settling the bonnet carefully on her head.

“Goodnight beautiful,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s temple before pulling the covers over both of them and wrapping her arms around her again. Azzi’s body naturally rolling onto Paige’s chest.

…

In the middle of the night Paige stirred faintly at the feeling of something warm and soft against her neck. At first, her tired brain thought it might’ve been the brush of sheets or her own hair. But then there was a kiss. And another. Slower this time—bare lips trailing a line down her throat, pausing at her collarbone.

She blinked groggily, adjusting to the faint moonlight still lingering in the room. Azzi’s face was tucked close, her lips dragging gently across Paige’s skin, her breathing slightly uneven.

Paige squinted, voice hoarse with sleep. “Az?”

Azzi didn’t say anything at first, just pulled herself closer, her hand smoothing over Paige’s stomach. Her lips ghosted up to Paige’s jaw as she finally whispered, “I want more baby.”

There was a beat of silence as Paige processed the words. For a second, she just blinked at the ceiling, still half-caught between dreaming and being awake—until the words clicked into place and Azzi’s lips found her neck again, warmer now, a little needier.

A sleepy laugh formed low in Paige’s throat as her arm wrapped around Azzi’s waist. “You don’t even gotta ask,” she murmured, her lips brushing against the shell of Azzi’s ear. “Ever.”

She rolled over slowly, pressing Azzi into the mattress with a soft exhale, gazing down at her, sleepy hooded eyes full of want.

Inwardly, Paige grinned to herself, heart pounding a little faster—not just from the automatic desire she always felt for the woman under her, but from the way Azzi looked at her like she hadn’t been touched in weeks even though just a few hours ago tears were coming out of her eyes. I created a monster, Paige thought, chuckling at her own thoughts.

Azzi gave her a small grin, eyes flickering between Paige’s lips and her eyes. “You sure you’re not too tired?”

Paige leaned in, kissing her slowly. “For you?” she whispered against her mouth. “Never.”

And just like that, they lost themselves in each other all over again, letting the night bleed into morning—neither of them noticing when the moon disappeared and sunlight began to stretch across the room.

[onepieceisreeeeaaalll]

may I request another Luffy x fem reader please. Where Luffy is always picking up y/n like anywhere and everywhere they go (they aren’t dating or anything yet either) and he’s just always carrying her. Maybe even one day she’s wearing a skirt and so she freaks out when Luffy goes to grab her but Luffy holds her skirt down while carrying her. I don’t know I feel like it would be cute. Thank you!

Carried Away - Luffy x Fem!Reader

Hey! This was SO FUN to write! I spent too long trying to avoid it because I was overthinking, but it's been sitting in my drafts just haunting me. Here it is! Hope you like it!

Tags: SFW, use of y/n, platonic, pre-relationship, gunshot, Marine shenanigans

Check out my masterlist if you like stuff like this!

~1.7k

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Incident One - The Thousand Sunny, noon

“Luffy, you can't be serious.” Nami sighs. 

The ship has been sailing a course towards - well, you can't remember. Nami's the one who handles the navigation, and quite honestly, you didn't hear where she said you'd be going. Something about the logpose, needing to restock - the usual. The point is that it's meant to be an easy journey. 

So, everyone's a little surprised to see a random, abandoned dingy in the middle of the ocean. With a treasure chest in it, no less. 

“Yeah - duh! We can't just leave that there!” Luffy whines, gesticulating his hands at Nami. “We're pirates - remember? That's treasure!”

“We don't know that, idiot!” Nami snaps, reaching a hand up to smack at Luffy's head. “It could be explosive, like that barrel was forever ago! Remember that?” 

He's already barreling near the edge of the ship, though, eyes widen with excitement. You can't help but giggle at the energy he has. 

“Aw, come on! Let me go over and take a look! I'll be real quick. Besides, what if it is treasure? Don't you want the money?”

Nami seems to pause at Luffy's comment. Everyone looks between her and Luffy, before she lets out a very long sigh. If you look closely enough, you're sure you can see berrie signs in her eyes. 

“Fine. But seriously, only real quick. And bring someone along with you so you don't get stuck in the water. Like Zo-”

“Alright! Let's go!”

Your eyes widen the moment Luffy's arm snakes around your waist, rotating around it over and over again in rubbery fashion. You weren't even close to him, but for some reason, you're the one he's selected. 

“Wait!” You screech, your hands grasping at his arm, but it's too late. 

Laughing wildly, Luffy backs up, rearing his other arm before launching you against his side and sending you both over the edge of the Sunny. 

“Luffy!” You scream, but the sound of the wind passing by is too loud in your ears. And so is Luffy's laugh. 

You land on the dingy with a thud, your arms still grasping onto Luffy tightly. His arm retracts from the rotation around your waist, and while you breathe heavily to calm your racing heart, Luffy is already marching towards the treasure chest in the small space. 

“What the-” You start, but Luffy's quick to wave you over.

“Nami said I needed someone to come with. Here, check this out with me!”

Your head aches, and all you can do is stare at him as a groan slips past your lips. Well, you can't argue with that logic. 

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Incident Two - A Nearby Island, morning 

Yesterday, that treasure chest proved to not have treasure itself, but some kind of treasure map. The crew was mixed. On the one hand, it seems like an obvious trap. On the other hand, money. Money won out. 

Much to everyone's relief, the map has led to a nearby island. The one the crew was headed to, anyway, so it was really of no inconvenience. There's the opportunity to restock, to fix gear, to get a bite to eat. It's a much needed respite after the long journey everyone's just had, so why not add a treasure hunt?

No one is more excited about this than Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp. 

“Treasure hunt!” They gleefully cheer, leading the charge down the gangplank. 

The ship is docked off the shore, hidden away by large trees and surrounding cliff sides. So long as everyone is careful, there's no reason to believe there should be any danger. 

You're gathering your things, sorting through them on the deck. Getting a free day with some berries in your pocket is rare enough as is. It'd be preferable to make the most of it. Maybe some new boots? Oh, or something to take up your free time! Knitting?

It’s while you're lost in your thought bubble that you feel something grab at you. Looking down, your wrist is clamped by - is that a hand? Attached to-

The rubber arm is long, outstretched from the bottom of the gang plank, and you let out a gasp as it reels you quickly away from where you're standing. 

“Luffy!” You whine, as exasperated now as you were yesterday. 

You're snapped to Luffy's side, pulled with such a force that your feet fly off the ground until you crash into his body. Luffy beams, moving his hands to straighten you up properly. You blow some hair from your face, jerking forcibly from his grasp. Even though he's strong, it seems to have taken him off-guard. 

“Seriously, what was that for?!” 

“Didn't want you to get left behind! We're treasure hunting!” Luffy grins.

“You can't just-!” You start to argue, but you're too flustered to really finish your statement. He's beaming at you too brightly, and that smile is too damn infectious. 

With a sigh, you pull away, walking down the hill ahead of the group. 

“I'm going clothes shopping!” You exclaim.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Incident Three - Town, noon

This is getting out of hand. You're aware of how much Luffy likes to grab at the crew, throw them around, and it's no secret that he prefers it to finding another route to having people do as he says. Luffy's impatient. Impulsive. Reckless. It's grown on you, sure, but there's something about the way your stomach lurches every time you're tossed around that leaves you uneasy. 

But you've planned for this. It was a decision made out of necessity, nothing more. A cute skirt purchased in town, too short to really significantly cover anything if you were moved around. Sure, Luffy is…well, Luffy, but he's still a guy. At the end of the day, there's no way he'd risk your modesty. Right? He could respect that. 

That's the idea, anyway. 

Your shopping trip has ended, and you're sporting your new skirt, holding a bag of clothes casually in one hand. It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining brightly on the town, birds are chirping, and there's an arm around your waist. 

Wait.

Your eyes widen as you're pulled back forcefully, soaring several feet backwards into the air. A scream rips from your throat as you're pulled into Luffy's arms, and the rubber man is running with impressive speed through town. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly to hang on, and everything is whirring by so fast that you can't figure out what's happening immediately. All that you know is you're moving, you've lost your bag of clothes, and Luffy is the culprit. 

“Hey, (Y/N), good thing I found ya! I lost Chopper and Usopp, but they'll catch up. We're gettin’ outta here!”

“Monkey D. Luffy, what the hell are you-?!”

Gunshots. You screech, scrambling as you shift in his arms. Luffy groans with mild irritation, adjusting his hold on you tightly as he sends an arm onto a nearby pole. He launches you both up, and you bury your face in his neck. 

“Marines?! How did that happen?!” You exclaim, and your face turns red as your skirt flies up. An arm moves from his neck, quickly scrambling to pull the fabric down.

“Oh - yeah! Turns out that treasure map was left by them! Funny, right?”

“Funny?!”

"Well, kinda." He shrugs, before turning his head out to the Marines. "Stupid jerks! We wanted our treasure!"

"There's Straw Hat!" A Marine yells, followed by several loud bangs from their guns.

You gasp as he jumps between buildings, and bullets are ricocheting off of stone structures you both pass, nearly grazing you. You're pretty sure some hit Luffy, bouncing off of his rubber legs and sending them off every which way. But your skirt keeps threatening to creep up, and you're not sure how tightly you can hang onto him with just one arm. Luffy can feel you bouncing in his grasp, and he glances down at you with a look. 

“What's wrong? Put both arms around me or you're gonna fall!”

“I can't, my skirt!” You whine. “I'm gonna flash everyone!”

“Hm?” Luffy tilts his head, furrowing his brows as he looks down at your lap. Noticing your hand pinning your skirt down, he doesn't think twice. He reaches to grab your hand, pulling it around his neck. 

“Luffy!” 

“Stop whining, just hold on!” Luffy groans, and one of his hands moves to the fabric of your skirt before it can fly up any further. He holds it down, one hand on your skirt and the other wrapped around you tightly. 

Your face flushes, and you gasp as he jumps from the roof of a building down to a tree, and then to the ground. You jostle with every move, but your arms have secured you to his body. You're safely nestled against him, and you don't think twice about moving. 

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Incident Four - The Thousand Sunny, evening

The ship lurches as it lands in the ocean far from the island the crew was on. You all let out a collective sigh of relief as the sails carry you far, far away from that Marine trap. By the time you and Luffy had arrived on the ship earlier, everyone else had barely made it, and Franky had already loaded up the cola to coup de burst the crew to safety. 

It's only now, in the aftermath of the fight, that Luffy's grasp on you loosens. He had been too caught up in punching and tossing Marines away to even think about letting you go. Your feet touch the deck carefully, and Luffy's rubber limbs retract as they snap back into place. 

Your hands immediately move to straighten out your skirt, and you hear a huff from your Captain beside you. Glancing up, you take notice of the way he adjusts his hat, looking at you with a tilted head and a confused expression. 

“Why're you wearin’ somethin’ like that, anyway? Makes it harder to fight, right?” He asks, and his tone is genuinely dumbfounded. 

Your face flushes, and words die in your throat. What explanation is there? I didn't want you to toss me around? Clearly, that didn't work, and it feels a little embarrassing to say as much. You're not sure why, but telling Luffy you bought a skirt because of him feels weird. So, you clear your throat, leaning back against the railing of the ship behind you. 

“Oh, um…just thought it was cute.” You lie, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “I didn't think we'd be running from Marines today.”

Luffy's quiet for a moment, and his eyes flicker to your skirt only briefly. He still looks dumbfounded. 

“Huh. M'kay. Just don't complain when I grab ya next time that your skirt’s goin’ up.” He responds with a grin, a playful chuckle sounding from his chest. 

This son of a-

"Sanjiiii! I'm hungry! Whadda ya got?” Luffy exclaims, turning away from you decisively. 

“Can it, Luffy, we just got out of port! I need to unload the groceries!” Sanji shouts from across the deck.

Even though you're still annoyed, and your skirt is still riding up, you find yourself laughing. Maybe the Captain grabbing you for adventures isn't the worst thing in the world. 

[wordsofwhimsy]

❀ꗥ～𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 ～ꗥ❀

❀ꗥ～ Part Three ～ꗥ❀

Pairing: Main!Mark Grayson x Southern Belle!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, slice-of-life, southern charm still thick as molasses in the middle of a snowstorm, Mark starts tweakin’ a lil’ bit on the low LMAO

Word Count: 2,449

Synopsis: Mark shows up to school early only to be immediately wrecked by you, who’s handing out muffins & heartache. Mark finds himself caught between charm, jealousy, and the slow realization that he is already in waaay too deep.

a/n: thank you for the feedback on the poll but y’all are just as torn on the direction to go with this thing as I am ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i really don’t want to drag this series out too longgg cause i feel like y’all will get sick of her, but there is so much fun potential with them!! so when i do wrap it up i definitely still plan to do random drabbles/blrubs/headcannons. so if you have a particular scenario you want to see played out with these two let me knowww

read part two ❀ꗥ～Here! ～ꗥ❀

The next day, Mark got to first period a full fifteen minutes early.

He wasn’t trying to be extra—he just, y’know, happened to wake up earlier than usual. Showered for an extra minutes. Stared into his closet for even longer.

It was row after row of sweaters.

Gray sweater. Navy sweater. Slightly-different-gray sweater. The exact same maroon one he wore yesterday, and probably twice last week.

“Why do I own so many sweaters,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “It’s not even cold.”

He glanced at the clock. He had exactly twelve minutes to leave the house if he wanted to be on time. But today wasn’t about being on time.

Today was about impressing the southern goddess who fed him homemade pie and called him sugar like it didn’t wreck his entire nervous system.

He yanked the maroon sweater off its hanger and immediately dropped it again. “No. You wore that when you met her. You can’t wear a sweater twice in a row, she’ll think you’re... sweater guy.”

He reached deeper. Somewhere in the back—past the knit graveyard—and he found an old, forgotten denim button-up he hadn’t worn in ages.

“…Okay. Alright.” He held it up, inspecting it like it might bite. “It’s not not cool. It’s fine. You’re fine.”

By the time he was out the door, he was buttoned up, hair freshly styled, smelling faintly like his dad’s aftershave (too much? was it too much?), and on track to arrive at school earlier than any teenager had ever willingly arrived before.

He passed one of the janitors on the way in. The guy looked at him weird.

Mark nodded like a man with a mission. “Big day.”

The janitor grimaced and went back to mopping.

Mark made it to class so early the lights weren’t even fully on yet.

He sat down, tried to play it cool, tapped his pen like he wasn’t losing his mind.

And then—you walked in.

Suddenly the semi-lit classroom felt too bright.

You were wearing another one of those flowy dresses—soft blue this time, with little white daisies scattered all over like a watercolor painting. Your hair was curled again, bouncing around your shoulders, and there was a tiny yellow bow tucked just behind your ear.

You were smiling, too. Big and bright, like it wasn’t still technically dark outside.

Mark forgot what breathing was.

“Good mornin’, sugar!” you chirped, dropping into the desk beside him in a way that almost made the hard plastic seem comfortable. “Ain’t it just the prettiest day?”

Mark looked outside.

It was overcast. Kinda windy. A bird hit the window and flopped off.

“…Yeah,” he croaked. “Gorgeous.”

You opened your notebook with a little hum, pulling out a pen that had a fuzzy pink pom-pom on the end. Different from your rhinestone student pencil from yesterday. Of course you had a whole arsenal of beautiful writing utensils.

Mark stared at it like it held all the answers to the universe.

“I brought peach muffins today,” you said, casual as ever. “Meemaw said I should bring a whole batch with me ‘cause they were too good not to share. I figured I’d bring you one.”

Mark’s felt like a fist had closed around his heart. “I’d die for a muffin.”

You laughed, light and lovely, not even fazed. “Well shoot, I don’t want you dyin’ for one. You just wait ‘til lunch and I’ll hand it over easy, no crime involved.”

Mark stared at you, helpless.

You turned your face to the window with a little sigh, completely unaware you’d just accidentally ruined him for every other girl on planet Earth.

The bell rang.

Mark didn’t even notice.

He was too busy falling deeper in love with the girl who brought sunshine and muffins into first period like it was nothing.

He was still riding the high of being called sugar and getting a personal smile when the classroom started to fill in.

You were already sitting beside him, scribbling little daisies in the margins of your notes and humming to yourself like you were the only one immune to Tuesday energy. You pulled a small zip-lock pouch from your tote and opened it to reveal a cluster of wrapped muffins, all neat and warm and clearly made with care.

“Good morning, sweetheart!” you said brightly—to the teacher.

Mark watched with stars in his eyes as you stood, walked to the front desk, and handed the teacher a muffin with both hands and a smile. “Mama always says nobody should have to start their day without a little somethin’ sweet.”

The teacher blinked, clearly caught off guard, then smiled back. “Well... thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

Mark practically swooned. Look at her, he thought. She’s so thoughtful. She’s so considerate. She’s like a vintage greeting card but better. An actual saint.

You turned around, still holding one more muffin in your hand—and then you walked right past Mark’s desk.

He froze. Wait. No muffin for him?

But then—worse—you stopped beside Brian.

Brian. The kid with glasses thicker than bulletproof glass. The one who wore suspenders without irony. Who once gave a ten-minute speech in class about his favorite graphing calculator.

You handed him a muffin.

“There ya go, sugar,” you said sweetly. “You always look so focused in here—I figure you deserve a treat.”

Brian turned bright red. “Oh! Uh! Thanks! That’s, um—wow. Thank you.”

Mark, from two desks away, silently short-circuited.

Brian?? He liked Brian! Brian was harmless! Brian was also now the luckiest man alive and probably didn’t even know it!!

Mark stared blankly at his own desk. The jealousy was illogical. He knew that. You were just being friendly. It was who you were. That was why he liked you so much.

Still.

He looked down at his empty hands, then at Brian, who was carefully placing his muffin into a Ziploc bag like it was a museum artifact.

Mark was still trying to pretend he didn’t feel weird about the whole Brian Situation™ when you turned back to him with your usual sunny grin—muffin bag in hand.

He straightened in his seat like a dog hearing the treat bag rustle.

“Don’t you worry, darlin’,” you said, tapping the top of the bag like it held gold. “I got your muffin all safe and sound for lunch.”

Mark blinked. “Oh—cool. Thank you.”

“But,” you added, eyes twinkling, “you look like you could use a little somethin’ sweet right now.”

His heart started to race. “I—I mean I—uh—”

You reached into the bottom of the muffin bag, broke off a little piece of golden, peach-flecked heaven, and held it out to him between your fingers.

“Open up.”

Mark’s soul left his body.

He opened his mouth automatically, like he was under some kind of southern-fried spell, and you gently popped the bite in—still smiling, totally casual, like this was just what people did.

The muffin was warm and soft and ridiculous. A spiritual experience.

You went right back to your notes like nothing had happened.

Mark sat there in stunned silence, chewing slowly, eyes wide like a soldier returning from war.

LATER THAT DAY — LUNCH.

Mark was already outside when you arrived—waiting under the tree like a man on a mission, trying to act like he hadn’t sprinted there the second the bell rang.

You showed up, bright as ever, holding that pastel lunchbox like it was the Holy Grail.

“Well hey, handsome,” you greeted, sitting gracefully beside him. “Hope you saved some room. I brought you the biggest one.”

He smiled—more like grinned—more like beamed. “Yeah, totally. Been thinking about it all day. Like… not in a weird way. Just. Y’know.”

You laughed, pulling out your container.

Then, completely oblivious to the emotional avalanche you were about to cause, you added: “Oh! And where’s your little friend? The one from yesterday? I brought extra for him too!” You took another cheerful bite of your muffin and glanced around the courtyard.

Mark froze mid-chew.

“William?” he asked, already knowing where this was going.

You nodded, casual as ever. “Mmhmm. I could’ve sworn he was in line for those lil’ curly fries they serve.” You pulled the spare muffin from your bag, holding it up delicately in its wax paper like it was a peace offering. “Wouldn’t feel right eatin’ this one without givin’ it to him. Poor thing’ll think I forgot about him!”

Mark’s smile was pained. “Oh. Yeah. That’s… thoughtful.”

You grinned, totally oblivious to the internal meltdown you’d just triggered. “I’m pretty sure he’s still in there honey. Go get him!”

He blinked. “What?”

You laughed gently, like he was being shy. “Go on, darlin’! Tell him I saved one just for him. He can come sit with us.”

Mark’s brain:

💔 This was our thing.💔 Our spot.💔 Our tree.💔 Our muffin moment.💔 Our marriage announcement was going to go here.

But all he said was, “…Right. Be right back.”

He stood up slowly, like he was going to the guillotine. “You sure you don’t wanna… I don’t know… surprise him later?”

You laughed again and shook your head. “Now don’t be silly. Ain’t no sense lettin’ this thing go cold!”

He nodded, a broken man. “Right. Of course. Warm muffins. That makes sense.”

You waved him off with a sweet little, “Tell him I said hurry, before I eat it myself!”

As he turned toward the cafeteria, he muttered under his breath, “…I was gonna marry her.”

Mark all but slammed through the cafeteria doors, eyes scanning the room like he was hunting prey.

There. At the far table. William, munching on curly fries like it was just another day, chatting with some guy from math class like the fate of Mark’s entire romantic future wasn’t on the line.

Mark rushed over, practically skidding to a stop in front of him. “Will,” he hissed, out of breath, eyes intense. “Please don’t ruin this.”

William blinked. “Ruin what? What’s happening? Are we being hunted?”

Mark leaned in, voice urgent. “She sent me to come get you. You. Personally. She has a muffin for you.”

William raised both brows. “...Oh. So this is about Muffin Girl.”

Mark looked around, already twitching. “She’s waiting under the tree. Our—my—spot. Please, please, I’m begging you, don’t linger. Just take the muffin, say thank you, maybe one polite compliment on her dress if you have to, and leave.”

William paused, chewing slowly, savoring the moment like it was his own muffin.

“Wow,” he said. “You’re spiraling.”

“I’m in hell,” Mark whispered. “I am in hell and she’s passing out baked goods like this is a church potluck. I need this.”

William popped one last curly fry in his mouth and stood. “Alright, alright. Don’t rupture anything. I’ll be cool.”

“You won’t be,” Mark muttered, following him out. “I know you. You’re gonna make this weird.”

William grinned over his shoulder. “Buddy, you brought me a muffin invitation like it was a golden ticket. This is weird.”

Mark groaned.

You spotted them before they even made it halfway across the lawn.

Mark looked like he was dragging William toward you by the soul. William, on the other hand, looked entirely unbothered—curly fry in one hand, mild mischief in his eyes.

“Well there he is!” you called out, waving that sweet little wave that made Mark’s knees go weak. “I was just about to send a search party.”

William grinned as they approached. “Sorry, ma’am. He tracked me down like a bloodhound. Said I was urgently needed.”

Mark muttered, “I did not say urgently.”

You patted the blanket beside you without hesitation. “Well come on, then! I don’t wanna be handin’ out muffins while they’re all cold and sad.”

Mark shot William a look. One that screamed: Don’t you dare.

William, of course, ignored it completely and sat down like he’d been invited to a five-star brunch. “Don’t mind if I do,” he said, stretching out a little. “Beautiful day, huh?”

Mark stood awkwardly beside the blanket, hovering like he wasn’t sure if this was now a group event or if he should go lay down in traffic.

“It is!” You agreed with another beaming smile before handing William the wrapped muffin “Now these are peach flavored—my favorite,” you said, then added with a wink, “but I’m biased.”

William opened it like a kid on Christmas. “Man, you bake and you’ve got charm? Mark wasn’t kidding.”

Mark snapped his head around so fast it nearly detached. “What.”

William bit into the muffin like it was the last joy on Earth and moaned dramatically. “Holy crap. You trying to kill us with kindness? These are so good!”

You giggled. “Well shoot, if I knew y’all were this easy to impress I’d’ve brought somethin’ fancier!”

Mark finally sat down, a little stiff, very tense, watching William like a hawk. He took a bite of his muffin (a big one), and tried to look normal.

He did not look normal.

William, fully aware, turned to you. “So, how’d you learn to bake like this? You go to some kind of southern baking academy, or is this just genetic perfection?”

You laughed, delighted. “Lord, no! My grandma just taught me when I was little. Said a lady should always know how to whip up a good peach pie and a sharp comeback.”

Mark, halfway through his muffin and very much not chewing like a normal person, tried to chime in. "That's really cool," he said, muffled through a mouthful.

William glanced sideways at him with a smirk that had way too much knowing in it. "Didn’t know you were so into peaches, man."

Mark nearly choked. "I’m not—I mean, I am. I like muffins. Just—these muffins. Or... muffins in general."

You looked between the two of them, brows raised ever so slightly, and let out the softest little laugh. “Y’all city boys sure are funny,” you said, sipping your drink with a smile like this was all just playful nonsense.

Mark practically melted. God, she’s sweet, he thought. She doesn’t even know what she does to people. She’s literally just—

His eyes flicked sideways—and immediately caught William staring straight at him with a smirk that said everything.

Mark’s brain screeched back to reality like a record scratch. He cleared his throat, sat up straighter, took another too-casual bite of muffin.

“Anyway,” he said quickly, “uh… yeah. School’s wild, right?”

William didn’t say anything. Just took another bite of his own muffin, eyes full of judgment and joy.

read part four ❀ꗥ～ Here! ～ꗥ❀

[whiskis]

A/N: Hi there! For those who don’t know, first part is here. (If that link doesn't work, try suscribing for free to Patreon and check this one) Enjoy!

Orc professor (part 2): late for class

Orc x chubby fem!reader || power dynamics, dom/sub undertones, exhibitionism (kinda), oral sex, size kink, age gap, degradation, praise kink

“If you want to show me your pussy, my cum better be leaking out of it. Do you understand?”

His words still echoed in your brain when you were getting dressed the next morning. You were already wet, and you fingered yourself to the memory of his dick in your pussy last evening. You were a bit sore, but the fact that you could still feel him made everything more intense, hotter… sexier. And it made everything so much better.

You decided to wear your pencil skirt this time, and blame it on your bad luck, but you spilled your coffee all over it. Cursing yourself, you changed as fast as possible, but not fast enough that you could get to class early as you knew you should.

By the time you arrived, he was writing something on the board. “Good morning, sir,” you enunciated very slowly, looking at him for directions as you saw the other few students entering behind you.

He turned around and stared at you with such intensity you felt your whole body react. You were almost panting, biting your lip not to groan out loud. “Good morning. You can sit down while I go to my office for a second.”

The other two students nodded and he passed you on his way to the door. He looked at you in such a way that you knew what you had to do without him having to say anything. You let your stuff on your usual seat and smiled at the girl who sat next to you, mumbling about going to get some coffee before class. She nodded with a smile and you had to stop yourself from running to his office.

You arrived just in time for him to pull you inside by the waist, pressing you against the door and kissing you senseless just like he did yesterday, his tusks feeling incredible against your jaw. His hands were traveling up and down your body, groping your ass and your thighs as he grunted against your lips.

“Fuck,” he whispered against your lips, pulling back and passing his hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture. “You were late. And I thought you regretted what happened yesterday. I was freaking out, little human. And then you walked out like nothing happened looking hot enough to eat and smelling like me… Good goddess. Do you know what you do to me?” He pressed his hips against your middle and you moaned at the feel of his huge hard on.

“I- I can feel it,” you stuttered, your voice quivering when his hands squeezed your ass, parting your cheeks and letting one of his fingers rub over your lace covered asshole.

“You have no idea. And now I can’t even fuck you properly. I can’t ruin you the way I want because you were late.” He punctuated each word with a squeeze and a roll of his hips. You panted, so horny you were about to burst and he didn’t even touch you. “Goddess, you smell so fucking good…” He whispered, burying his face on your neck and inhaling deeply.

“I’m sorry… I- I spilled coffee on my skirt and had to change and then I forgot a book and have to open the door again and…” Your rambling was interrupted by his lip covering yours again, swallowing your explanation as he grunted, his hands massaging your ass-cheeks once again.

“What do you have after my class?” He asked, his breathing labored, almost desperate.

“A couple more classes,” you told him, mentally checking if you could skip any of them. But you knew you couldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t. You were a damn good student… Even if you were fucking your way through one of your subjects.

“Shit.” He passed his hand through his hair again, messing it up and making you want to whimper. “Okay, okay. I have classes after lunch, but I’ll be here around four-ish. Does that work for you?” You nodded fervently. “Okay, I expect you to show me how sorry you really are for being late and depriving me from what I was promised.”

“I can… I can give you my panties now,” you offered, feeling the lace sticking to your pussy lips like a second skin because you were that wet.

“I don’t want them. I want you to be feeling how wet I made you all day. I want you to be uncomfortable and thinking about my cock deep inside your pussy until you are so horny you are desperate to come. Until you know how slutty you really are…” You moaned, his words igniting a fire inside of you that made your brain short-circuit. “Now, compose yourself, we have a very interesting class ahead. I’m sure you are dying to know about the survival strategies of cacti,” he said with a laugh, making you let out a choked giggle. You weren’t expecting him to joke. Shit, why did that make him hotter?

The class was boring, but you didn’t even care about it. You didn’t care about anything but the feel of your wet panties against your pussy and his words resonating inside your brain. He made a point of looking directly at you a couple times, going as far as to ask you something about what he was saying, just to huff in annoyance when you didn’t answer correctly. But he smirked in your direction and that was enough to send you spiraling into a thousand of new horny thoughts.

You left his class as fast as you could, trying very hard to look normal when you passed him, but his knowing smile only made your clit pulsate harder, your core clenching around nothing and making you want to beg him to take pity on you and fuck you right then and there. But you were stronger than that, so you left his class on your way to the next one.

You didn’t take a single note the rest of the day, your brain filled with possibilities and images of his hard dick. The feel of his lips against yours, and the ideas of how would feel against your lower lips… Your brain was running a mile per minute, and you couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t the rub of the lace against your clit. It was exhilarating and maddening at the same time, and by the time four rolled around, you were on the edge and you had to run to his office in need of release.

You knocked rapidly, and when you opened and saw him there, shirt rolled over his big green forearms and glasses pushed down on his nose you almost came right there. Fuck, he was so fucking sexy it wasn’t fair at all.

“Come on in,” he said as soon as you closed the door behind yourself.

You tried to lock it, but he shook his head… Oh shit, that made you even wetter. The idea that you could get caught. That somebody could just walk in and know how much of a slut you were, that you were fucking your professor for a good grade…

You moaned and he chuckled. “Come here, little human, I almost hear your brain short-circuiting.” You walked to him, your steps measured so you wouldn’t fall. Your knees feel like jelly, and your pussy is so wet you are sure he can hear it from the desk. “So… Did you think about what you are going to do to redeem yourself from not meeting your end of our deal this morning?” You nod. “Go ahead, tell me.”

You’d been thinking about it all day. Your whole brain occupied by thoughts of his cock inside of you, against you, spilling in and over you… But there was one thought that surpassed all others. “I- I want to suck you off, sir.”

He smirked, his tusks framing his plush lips in a way that made your clit tingle. “Is that so? But you have such a tiny human mouth, I don’t know if you’d be able to fit me…” He teased, making you blush. You gave him your panties everyday, and that’s what got you to blush, him teasing you… Incredible.

“I will. It will. It will fit, sir,” you stuttered. This orc made your brain so fuzzy you could barely process words correctly anymore. You could barely talk when he was close, especially now that you were moments away from sucking his dick down your throat.

“Prove it then, little slut.”

You dropped to your knees so fast you moaned when you hit the floor, the spark of pain focusing your brain for a second. But the second you touched his big-as-tree-trunks thighs, your brain disconnected again. Only heat and lust left behind. You pulled down his fly in a slow movement, staring up at him as he looked back at you with an indescribable look.

You took his dick out and gasped again. You already saw it, you had it inside of you, but it was nothing compared with the realization that you were about to fit that inside your mouth. Maybe he was right, and it wouldn’t fit.

His eyes were tender when he looked down at you. “Relax, you don’t have to take all of it, just whatever you are comfortable with. I like you submitting to me, but I don’t want to hurt you in any way. Do you understand?” You nodded, relief running down your body and making you even hornier.

“Okay,” you whispered.

And then you launched.

You pulled out your tongue and started mapping the veins of his huge shaft one after the other. His hands were gripping the arms of the chair with such force you could hear the leather breaking. You smiled against his dick and he grunted, one of his hands fisting your hair and urging you where he wanted you more. You complied, you wanted nothing more but to be a good girl for him, a good slutty human for him.

You took his head into your mouth, your lips so stretched it was almost uncomfortable, but you liked it. You loved the feel of his cock inside your mouth, it was exhilarating in a way you weren’t expecting. You weren’t one to like giving head in general, you preferred to go down on girls than guys, but definitely wasn’t your go to activity, but right there… You fucking loved it.

You rolled your tongue around the tip, teasing the underside where you knew he was especially sensitive. He moaned over you, his fist pulling at your hair and making you moan around him, which made him almost whimper and let out a series of curses that would make a pirate blush.

You kept going at it, you couldn’t get past a few centimeters, he was too wide for you to get him to the back of your throat, but by the glassy look in his eyes you understood it was enough. You were messy, your saliva getting everywhere as you bobbed your head up and down.

He was looking down at you reverently, and you couldn’t hold back a few more moans, who made him thrust up accidentally. You pulled back coughing, eyes teary and a few tears rolling down. He groaned at the sigh, and you felt your clit pulsating with your heartbeat. You were so close to coming, you wanted nothing more but to touch yourself. You threw your body to him again, but he stopped you with the hand tangled in your curls.

“I want to fuck your pretty face, would you let me, little slut? Would you let me use you like my personal fuck toy?” You whimpered, nodding against his thigh as he pulled your head back by the hair. “Such a good girl for me, already so needy and desperate. Look at you… You look so dirty like that. Remind me to take a pic so I can enjoy you later,” his words made you emit a guttural moan.

The idea of him taking pics of you like that, make up running and lips swollen… it made you feel hot. It made you feel so horny you could feel your juices dripping down to the floor under you, your panties so wet they couldn’t hold your gushing pussy anymore.

“You like that? You like me having pictures of how pretty you look all fucked up? Why do I even ask, of course you do, you are such a little slut for me. Now open up.” You obeyed and he directed his dick back against your welcoming mouth. “Tap my leg three times if it’s too much, okay?” You nodded again. “Words. How many times?”

“Three. I tap three times if it’s too much,” you repeat, breathless already.

“Good girl.”

And then he started a brutal pace. He used his hold on your hair to direct your movements, moving your head forward until you couldn’t take it further and then retreating. Repeating that process until something inside of you gave out and you felt him slip inside your throat. It was almost too much, you couldn’t breathe, but your eyes rolled back into your head at the sight of him in pleasure.

He pulled back to let you breathe, looking down at you with reverence. “You look so fucked out I want to ruin you. Would you let me ruin you, little human?” You nodded, unable to form words. “Such a good girl for me.” He pulled your head forward and started to fuck your mouth in earnest.

Your brain was fuzzy, your pussy so wet you could feel it dripping down, and your clit asking for attention. The weight of his cock against your tongue, his hand on your hair and his curses over you were driving you insane.

“Touch yourself for me, little human. Come around your tiny fingers. Show me how much you like sucking my orc cock,” his permission was enough, your hand traveling down your body and rubbing frantically against your clit, over the lace.

His pace became erratic, and your fingers rubbed so hard you were almost afraid to set your clit on fire. But it was so good, the combination of sensations so intense you were about to come.

“I’m about to come. Do you want it? Do you want to swallow my come or do you want it in your face, little slut?” You sucked harder, pushing your head further down, swallowing around him to indicate you wanted it. You wanted to swallow him whole.

That was all it took. He growled over you and pushed his dick as far as he could before you felt the first shot of his come in the back of your throat. He pulled back a little to avoid chocking you, the final spurs of his release filling your mouth to the brim, some of it dripping down your chin.

The second he opened his eyes and looked down at you, his dick still in your mouth, you were done. You flicked your clit one last time before you melted, pulling back and spilling the rest of his come over your boobs as you cried out your own release.

Your vision whited out, your ears ringing as you felt your body moving as he pulled you up onto his lap, his hands caressing your back as he whispered sweet nothings that your brain couldn’t process.

He took some tissues from the box on his desk and carefully cleaned your messy face. “You didn’t take the pic,” you told him.

“We didn’t talk about it beforehand. I wouldn’t risk stepping over your possible boundaries like that.” Your heart skipped a beat. “But don’t worry, we’ll have more opportunities if that’s something you’d enjoy…”

“We will?” You asked, a bit confused but a spark of hope blooming inside your chest.

“I’m not letting go of your sweet, sweet slutty pussy anytime soon,” he told you, kissing your forehead as his hand traveled down until it met your dripping panties. “I would like this panties now, thank you,” he whispered against your ear, you could sense his smirk on his tone, making you laugh so hard you snorted.

Reminder that you can find all my other stories over @monstersflashlight

[archangeldyke-all]

i had a crazy thought–imagine sevika's wife saying something that annoys/peeves her just a tiny bit and ceo!sevika doing the most over the top thing the next second.

imagine they live in a huge expensive modern penthouse and sevika's wife says "how come we live in the same house but we don't see each other?" and on the next day sevika is already taking her around to go see houses for sale 😭😭

or when her wife trips over the huge glass coffee table in the middle of the living room, and it's gone in the next hour and replaced by a smaller, cuter coffee table

i just wanna see sevika simping for her wife pls im begging i think she's so so cute 😭😭😭 like a grizzly bear 😭😭😭

this is like the epitome of ceo sevika i love her so fucking much

men and minors dni

you shouldn't be surprised.

this has been happening long before you and sevika were even dating, back when you were just assistant.

you can still remember the first time sevika did this to you. you ran into the office, discombobulated and late, worried that sevika would be upset.

she wasn't upset, though. it was the oppisite. she sighed in relief the moment you walked through the door wrapping you up in a hug. "fuck, i was worried you'd been carjacked on your way here! i can't lose you. not before the board meeting."

you laughed and relaxed in her arms, breathing in her expensive cologne. "sorry. my phone is fucking ancient and can't hold a charge anymore-- it died overnight and my alarm didn't go off."

"hmm." she'd said. at the time, you thought that was it.

then you got home that night, and found three brand new cell phones sitting on your doorstep.

you blinked down at the boxes, confused. a small envelope caught your eye, and you picked it up, flipping it open.

pick your favorite. -s.

the extravagance only grew once you got together.

"ugh, my back is killing me." you complained one morning.

"'s wrong?" sevika asked, a worried look in her eye. you shrug.

"think i pulled something yesterday while restocking the cabinets above the copier." you say.

that night, you pout in confusion as sevika takes the wrong exit off the highway. "where're we going?"

"you'll see."

"awe, sevika, i can't do a date night tonight baby, i feel like shit."

"it's not a date. well, it sorta is... just trust me, okay?" she'd asked. you nodded.

"of course."

sevika pulled the car into a spa parking lot. you frowned. "spatopia? aren't they closed this late?"

"i made a few calls for us." she said with a shrug, kissing you over the center console and then hopping out of the car. she ran around the car, pulling open your door and walking you to the store front.

two hours and two couples' deep tissue massages later; you were both too relaxed to drive home and you had to call an uber. it was one of the nicest gifts of your life.

now that you're married, it's only gotten worse.

you make a passing comment about your couch being stiff, and sevika's taking you furniture shopping that weekend.

you trip over a (incredibly expensive) persian rug in sevika's study more than once and she's rolling it away and buying one that doesn't snag your toes.

you once complained about the lack of legroom in her fucking porsche, so she bought you an suv. she's fucking insane.

and now she's done something truly crazy.

"you bought us a fucking house!?" you squawk. sevika shrugs with a smile. "sevika, we have a house!"

"we have a penthouse. penthouses don't have gardens. you want a garden."

"wh-- i do?!" you ask. sevika laughs.

"yeah, you do. remember? you told me on our first date what your dream house would be. you said something with charm, something you could make your own, something with a yard big enough for a garden and some pets."

the memory is so distant and blurry to you-- at the time you'd mostly just been talking out of your ass and fantasizing. but sevika remembered. because she's incredible.

"y-you're fucking insane." you cry. sevika smiles.

"good or bad?"

"sevika." you break down in tears, wrapping your arms around your wife. she laughs against you, rubbing your back. "y-you can't just buy a house without asking your wife!" you scold. she giggles.

"most people can't-- but we've got the money for it. i could buy you a dozen houses if you wanted."

"no!" you squeak. she laughs. you rip out of her arms to glare up at her. "you have got to stop doing this shit sevika, you're gonna give me a heart attack eventually!"

"you're gonna have a heart attack when you see the main bath in this place." she whispers with a sweet, excited smile. you burst into laughter and pull her in for a kiss. "if you hate it we can just put it back on the market, y'know." she mumbles. you snort.

"well... at least let me see the place first."

sevika grins, big and wide. you shake your head at her, in love and endlessly endeared by her. "i love you. i'd spoil you in any life, but i'm glad in this one i got the money to treat you the way you really deserve." she says.

you sigh dreamily and cup her face. "please tell me there's already a bed in there."

"...yeah, why?" sevika asks. you grin.

"i'm gonna ride you until you're paralyzed from the waist down, baby. c'mon. show me around my new house." you request, tugging sevika into the house by her tie.

sevika follows you with a dopey smile and hearts in her eyes.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel

[mister0ctopus]

Server Room (6)

series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary:  Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series

Word Count: 4.5K

a/n: drama and revelations incoming! thank you for waiting, my dearest friends! please be kind to this chapter, I swear the next one is coming VERY soon :)

as always, I love hearing your thoughts, theories, unhinged reactions, whatever lol. I love you all!!! Y’all are the bestest!!! 💜

🐙 Masterlist / Thoughts?Asks?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

This is the ultimate middle finger to your father.

It’s right there in your inbox, glaring at you—a promotion confirmation email.

Your father, the man who was never present in your life. The one you once craved validation from as a child. That craving eventually twisted into repressed anger, then dulled into apathy. 

But emotions aren’t linear. 

They move like waves, anxiety washing over you one moment, grief pulling you under the next, mourning a man you never even had a relationship with.

Shame he's dead now (may he rest in peace), because there’s no one left to shove this achievement in the face of.

But why does it feel like you've just swapped one kind of emptiness for another?

Maybe it's because, despite everything—the resentment, the bitterness, the years of proving him wrong—a part of you still wanted him to see this. 

And now that he's gone, there's no one left to witness it. 

You sigh as your thoughts shift to something else.

The cabin trip.

It's been a week since that interesting trip.

There's still that tension between you and Jungkook, something unspoken, but lingering. You haven't seen him in days. Either you're too busy, or he's avoiding you, because when you grabbed lunch with the group yesterday, he didn't show. 

Busy, Yoongi said.

"Did you know that zoning out can mimic a light form of sleep? It gives your brain a mini recharge."

"Huh?" You blink and turn to see Min Yoongi perched on your desk, quietly chuckling to himself.

Speaking of the devil...

"What random trivia are you spouting now, Yoongi?"

"I've been calling you but you're zoning out again," he says, flicking your forehead. "What are you thinking about? And don't say work, I know your face when it's non-work thoughts."

"Oh? And what does that face look like?”

"Like you have feelings."

"I do have feelings."

"Yeah, sure. We call it rage."

“It’s called RBF, Yoongi,” you deadpan. “You should know. No one RBFs harder than you.”

"Hey! What are you talking about? That was a long time ago. I'm soft now." Yoongi grins smugly, arms crossed like he’s daring you to argue.

You squint at him, tilting your head. "You do look soft today… I wonder why." Your eyes scan him as you try to pinpoint what makes him seem extra soft and sweet today.

Yoongi just watches you, his grin widening, like the answer is right in front of your face.

"Oh! It’s your shirt! What do they call it? Boyfriend look? You look so boyfriend today!" you exclaim, pointing at him. "Yellow really suits you! But I already told you that!"

You had mentioned it once—casually, in passing—not expecting him to care. But, surprisingly, he’d started wearing more pastels, especially blues and yellows, instead of his usual blacks and whites. 

Yoongi smirks, brushing the tip of his nose. "Yup, that’s me."

"Yup! Soft and squishy, like milk bread. Look at this—" You reach up and squish his cheeks, fingers digging in while he tries to dodge.

"Yah—!" He flails, bumping his elbow on the divider with a thud.

"Ow!" he whispered through a pained breath, and the two of you stifled your snickers, struggling to keep quiet in the office.

Then, like a shadow peeling away from the wall, Jungkook appears. Sharp features set like stone, gaze locked on Yoongi.

“We've been waiting for you in the conference room, we couldn’t start without you." he says, voice cool, calculated, and without so much as a flicker of acknowledgement toward you, he's gone.

The air stills but Yoongi was quick to his feet.

"Oh, shit, yeah." Yoongi jumps. "Weekly team meeting." He shrugs before following Jungkook.

Confirmed: Jungkook is avoiding you.

So... which is it going to be?

Are you going to ask the question “why”?

Or is Yoongi right again?

"Like you have feelings."

Yes. You do. Because apparently, being ignored after being fingered kind of stings.  

News of your promotion spread like wildfire within your group, and Taehyung wasted no time organizing a "quick" celebration to toast to your well-deserved success at Dino's.

So right after work, everyone gathered in the familiar bar.

"Where's Jungkook?" Jimin asked Taehyung.

"He said he’s got something lined up."

"Bullshit. More important than this celebration?" Allie quipped.

"Yeah, he said he couldn't move it ." Taehyung answered.

"Move what?" Jimin pressed, this time directing his question more toward Yoongi.

Yoongi shrugged. "I don't know, he didn't tell me exactly. Something about an art exhibit.”

"Art exhibit? Man of culture. By himself?" Taehyung muttered as you all headed out of the building and started walking.

"Nah, I think it was with someone," Yoongi said casually, but Taehyung’s head snapped to him.

"Wait, like a date?!" Allie covered her mouth in mock shock.

"I don't know," Yoongi drawled, clearly tired of the interrogation. "He didn’t tell me, okay? All he said was it was hard to get tickets for that– not a ticket, so I assumed he's not alone."

"Ohhh... okay," Allie hummed dramatically, dragging out the words. "I thought he was avoiding YN."

Taehyung smirked. "Yeah... actually, that’s what I thought too."

"What? Why?" you shot back, already regretting engaging.

"I mean..." Taehyung shrugged. "He was acting a little different toward you after the cabin trip. We knew at first, he was a little shy around you, then he warmed up. But now he's straight-up dipping on us after I teased you with Yoongi."

"Taehyung, jeez! Love your theories. How do you come up with this stuff?" You shook your head, nearly laughing.

"I have eyes." He pointed to them dramatically. "And hear me out, okay? I swore you and Yoongi would eventually hook up or, I don’t know, just get together at some point. It was only a matter of time!" His voice pitched higher when you rolled your eyes.

"Bro," you groaned, shaking your head.

"I mean, why not?" Taehyung pressed. "You’ve been friends forever, you're both single—"

"You and Allie are both single. Jimin’s single. Why don’t you all date each other?" you shot back.

"Come on, you know what I mean! You and Yoongi go waaaay back," Taehyung pressed. "You like older men. Yoongi is older. And Yoongi likes… well, actually, I have no clue what his type is. But one thing I do know?" He pointed at you. "He’s not warm and soft with everyone—but with you? He is."

Yoongi, who had been quietly sipping his drink beside you, finally let out a low chuckle. You turned to give him and Taehyung a deeply unimpressed look before elbowing Yoongi. "You could jump in and shut this down, you know."

"Nah, I’m enjoying this," Yoongi smirked.

"People can have purely platonic relationships despite the years, you know?" You rolled your eyes, exasperated.

"I could date you, Allie," Jimin chimed in with a charming grin. "But we all know you like tall guys… and sadly, all I’ve got going for me is a great ass."

Allie paused, and shamelessly checked him out. “Hmm… fair point.”

"Alright, enough about Jimin’s ass," Taehyung snickered before turning back to you. "Anyway, I swear I thought—thought—Jungkook had a little crush on you. Just a gut feeling." He shrugged before smirking. "Though I’m not sure if he’s your type… I do know you like older men. Probably those daddy issues at work."

Yoongi nearly choked on his laugh, coughing into his sleeve. "Wow."

"I know how much it matters to you... I know that you got daddy issues," Taehyung sang the now-familiar song by The Neighbourhood with a grin, dragging out the lyrics like he always did whenever this topic came up.

"Thanks for the psychoanalysis, Dr. Kim." you muttered. The waiter arrived with your orders, and you were relieved when the conversation finally shifted to your promotion and what it entails, instead of your… issues.

The week flew by faster than you expected. Starting Monday, you’ll be stepping into your new role, and it  involves traveling to client sites whenever they expand or open new branches. It’s exciting... and exhausting just thinking about it. 

Which means less regular office hours, less desk chats with your friends. Your schedule will now revolve around client demands, and while that’s a win for your career, it’s kind of a loss for your social life.

So you made sure to clear your Saturday night for the company’s annual awards event—a night that’s less about trophies and more about mingling with stakeholders, VIP clients, and colleagues over cocktails and dancing. If there’s one thing your company excels at, it’s throwing a party. People go all out, dressing to the nines like it’s the Met Gala—and honestly, the break from the usual 9-to-5 grind is refreshing.

“Okay, which one do you think?” Allie asked during your coffee break in the pantry, shoving her phone in your face. Two mirror selfies—one in a sleek black gown, the other in a white halter dress—stared back at you. “Which one is better? Which one’s giving more classy old Hollywood vibes?”

“Hmm…” you tapped your chin. “Both are stunning, but the white one? That one pops against your skin tone. Very Marilyn Monroe on the red carpet.”

“Oh my God, yes! I was thinking that too!” Allie beamed. “Ok, sold! White it is!”

“You got your outfit sorted?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

“Yeah, kinda. I’m stuck between this emerald green dress with red lips, or this black velvet dress I’ve only worn once.” You shrugged. “I’ll try them on later and send you pics to pick.”

“Yesss! Fashion show in your apartment, I can’t wait!” Allie wiggled her brows excitedly.

“Oh gosh,” she groaned, glancing at her phone. “I’ve got a Zoom meeting in, like, two minutes.” She shot you a kissy face before speed-walking back to her desk.

You chuckled, watching her go.

Yeah… you were going to miss them.

You stand by the water dispenser, zoning out as your water bottle slowly fills. The faint hum of the refrigerator fades into the background, your mind drifting somewhere far away.

Then footsteps pull you back to the present. Someone’s entered the pantry, but you don’t bother turning around. You keep your eyes locked on the water bottle, watching the steady stream.

“Oh my God, you’re so funny! I can’t believe you don’t play golf! I feel so silly asking you to join us!”

A sweet, high-pitched voice cuts through the quiet pantry.

“Yeah?” A low chuckle follows. A familiar one. “No, I don’t.”

You grit your teeth. 

Jungkook.

“You should let me teach you,” the girl coos. “I’m a great teacher.”

“I bet you are. I’ll check my schedule and let you know.” His voice is so casual, so maddeningly smooth, you roll your eyes right then and there.

Ugh.

You stare at your water bottle, still filling, taking its sweet time like it’s savoring your misery. You glare at the bubbling stream like, WOW, WATER. AMAZING.

Almost full... just a little more…

When your water bottle finally fills, you grab it quickly and turn to leave. 

Almost made it. Almost.

“YN! Oh hi!”

You stop dead.

“Congrats on your promotion! Well deserved!” Ria from Marketing beams brightly.

“Oh. Thank you! Appreciate it!” you reply, smiling politely.

Jungkook’s eyes are on you now. He’s leaning against the counter, one hand lazily gripping his coffee cup, watching you with that same unreadable expression he’s been wearing since the cabin. 

But his gaze drags down your frame, slow, deliberate, before flicking back up to your face.

Worse? 

He looks so damn good  in his gray shirt, sleeves pushed up showing his tattoos. A silver chain resting at his collarbone, glinting obnoxiously. 

And his hair? Pushed back. 

Your pulse jumps, and before you can think better of it, you flash him an equally fake smile.

“Well... gotta go! Meetings!”

You spin on your heel, your heels clicking sharply down the hallway, each step punctuated with purpose, and you swear you can still feel his eyes on you.

What’s his deal? Seriously. It's really starting to bother you. 

The black velvet dress won.

Allie’s excitement was instant when you sent her the dress options, but the shrieking voice note she sent after seeing the black one? Iconic.

“OH MY GODDDD! THAT’S THE ONE! YOU LOOK INSANE—LIKE, WHO EVEN ARE YOU?”

And honestly? She wasn’t wrong.

The black velvet dress hugged your curves perfectly, its sleek straps framing your shoulders and revealing just enough skin to feel sultry yet refined.

Your hair fell in soft waves, paired with your favorite black stilettos, a smoky eye, and a bold red lip. It's a perfect balance of sexy and classy.

There’s no way you’re not showing up tonight. Your gorgeous friends are going to eat it up—no doubt about that.

You can’t wait to soak up their energy. You need it to carry you through the many jet lags that’ll inevitably drain you in the days ahead.

The moment you stepped into the grand hotel ballroom, your eyes immediately landed on Jimin and Taehyung. They stood near the corner, chatting with a small group. Jimin, effortlessly ethereal in an all-white suit, and Taehyung, impossibly dapper in a dark green suit only he could pull off.

Noticing you, they smiled warmly and waved. You returned the gesture, motioning toward your assigned table before weaving through the bustling crowd.

Impressive. 

The event felt grand. Crystal chandeliers glowed above, and the room buzzed with lively chatter. Waiters in sharp uniforms moved smoothly between tables, serving cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. Your company had clearly spared no expense, and judging by the laughter and clinking glasses, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

You found your table easily enough—a circle of familiar faces from your department. Four men occupied the seats, and their collective glance flicked your way the moment you approached. A quick once-over, followed by polite nods. Not exactly welcoming, but not hostile either. Just... guarded.

You were used to it by now. Ever since your promotion to Senior Manager, there has been an undeniable tension. You were younger than all of them, but you'd earned the role. From your first day, you'd outperformed expectations, closing deal after deal and driving major revenue growth. Your promotion had been inevitable, yet still a bitter pill for some. While they remained professional, you could sense the discomfort that lingered beneath the surface.

"You look good, YN," Peter chimed in, one of the younger members of the team. Of all your teammates, he's been the most friendly. His voice carried a lightness that cut through the awkward air.

"Thanks, Peter. You don't look so bad yourself," you replied, offering him a small but genuine smile.

"Oh, thanks! Feels nice seeing everyone all dolled up," he added with a grin. His excitement was contagious, and you couldn’t help but mirror it.

"Yeah, I know! Everyone looks amazing tonight." You turned to Mr. Hoang, one of the quieter and older members of the team. "I love your suit, Mr. Hoang."

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Oh... thanks," he said, a bit stiffly. "My wife picked it out for me."

"She has good taste. You look great," you replied warmly. His expression softened, and you knew your effort hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Socially, you wanted to be closer to your team. 

Professionally and strategically, you knew it was important to be on good terms with everyone. Tonight felt like a chance to break some of that tension, even if just a little.

The microphone at the front crackled, pulling your attention to the stage as the host greeted everyone.

You scanned the room, searching for your friends. Since you were from different departments, you were all scattered across the venue, but you hoped to find them soon. With the host still presenting something on the screen, you decided to slip away to the washroom.

As you weaved through the crowd, your steps faltered.

Yoongi and Jungkook were walking toward you.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

It was offensive how good they looked.

Yoongi was effortlessly refined in a tailored gray suit, his hair brushed neatly, exuding his usual air of quiet confidence.

But Jungkook…

…was a goddamn problem.

Dressed in an all-black suit that fit him like sin, his dark hair fell in a perfect mess. And then, as if the devil himself had crafted him, there was the lip ring, gleaming under the ballroom lights, a stark rebellion against his otherwise pristine look.

What the fuck?

How is this legal?

He looked like trouble wrapped in temptation, and it was unfair how someone could look like that.

“Damn, YN, you clean up well,” Yoongi teased, stopping in front of you.

You blinked yourself back to reality, clearing your throat. “Well, you don’t look bad yourself, Yoongi. I barely recognized you.”

Jungkook, on the other hand, said nothing.

No. He just looked.

A slow, deliberate once-over—eyes dragging down your body like he was memorizing every detail—before finally, finally meeting your gaze again.

And then a tight-lipped smile. That’s it. No words. No reaction. Just that.

Wow. Okay???

You forced a polite smile in return, barely masking the fluster creeping up your spine. You turned back to Yoongi, pretending you weren’t internally combusting, when—

“Miss YLN! Great to see you. I’ve been meaning to catch up now that I’ve heard of your promotion! Well deserved! I’ve got a proposal I’d love to run by you.”

You turned to see an important client, beaming at you expectantly.

“Oh! Hi, Mr. Yamamoto! Yes, let’s grab some drinks and chat,” you replied smoothly, flashing him your best professional smile.

And with that, you excused yourself from the two gentlemen before tearing yourself away, resisting the overwhelming urge to glance back.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

Seriously.

Hours of being dragged from one conversation to another with important clients and VPs had you trapped in endless small talk. Ironic, considering you worked in sales. Socializing felt exhausting, but you liked knowing their plans and goals while sipping cocktails. You liked knowing your cards.

Your phone buzzed relentlessly. As expected, everyone was looking for you.

Allie: yn we've been looking for you, are you seriously working rn? Jimin: we’re here at the bar now. Taehyung is already tipsy Taehyung: im not. jungkook made me try sangria and its seriously so good.

The mention of Jungkook’s name made your spine straighten.

Seriously, what was Jungkook’s deal?

Was he weirded out by the cabin hookup?

Bothered that Yoongi saw?

Or maybe it was when Taehyung started teasing you with Yoongi?

Or all of the above?

You hated guessing games. You never had time to overthink stuff like this, you didn’t have the emotional bandwidth for these mind games. Whatever game Jungkook was playing now, it was frustrating, and awkward.

But fuck, all you can think about is how good he felt.

How his body pressed against yours. How his touch burned your skin.

It’s crazy how you’ve never wanted anyone like this. 

Like a craving.

Something darker and primal, demanding more, demanding everything.

You needed air. 

Excusing yourself, you made your way to the balcony you’d been eyeing all evening.

The crisp night air kissed your face, and you drew in a deep breath. Freedom. Solitude. You stepped into the corner for privacy—until a shadow shifted.

You froze. Too late.

Peter's smile stretched lazily when he recognized you.

Your posture softened, but you were still guarded.

"Oh hey," he said, voice light and easy. "Didn’t know you’d come here."

"Hey," you greeted, still caught off guard. He seemed drunk, but harmless—cheeks flushed pink from the drinks, tie loosened, swaying slightly.

"You okay?" you asked, more out of politeness than concern.

"Oh yeah," he chuckled. "Just needed some air. Long night, huh?"

"Yeah, I better get back," you smiled, turning back toward the party.

"Bet it's tiring," Peter added, voice quieter now. When you glanced back, his smile had thinned, and his eyes lingered on you a little too long.

"What do you mean?" you asked..

"You’re always working your ass off," he muttered, stepping closer. "Don’t know how you do it."

He reeked of alcohol, but something in his tone made you pause.

“We all work hard,” you said cautiously. “It’s a tough job.”

Peter scoffed. “Yeah? I wonder what other jobs you’re willing to do.”

Your stomach turned. Oh, fuck no. You were not doing this.

Snickering, he inched closer, his breath hot and sour with liquor.

You weren’t about to entertain this. Turning away, you took a step back toward the party.

"You’ve been kissing clients' asses all evening. Bet that’s hard for someone so... stuck up," he sneered, voice darker now.

"I suggest you stop coming near me. You’re drunk," you warned firmly, still walking.

His hand shot out, clamping around your wrist. His grip was tight, fingers biting into your skin.

"You’re brave to act all high and mighty when you know your friends will protect you. Do you fuck them? Is that why they’re willing to risk their jobs for you? Maybe that’s why they all stick around, yeah, hoping they’ll get a turn."

"What the hell are you talking about?" You yanked your arm, but his grip tightened.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He slurred.

Your patience snapped. ��I don’t,” you bit out. “You gonna tell me, or are you just gonna keep wasting my time?”

His lip curled. "Such a stuck-up bitch. You walk around acting untouchable, as if you’re better than everyone. No wonder you piss everyone off. Think Yoongi’s your knight in shining armor? Bet you spread your legs for him like the desperate little tease you are. Yeah, bet he pounded you so good he didn’t care about almost getting fired."

"For the last time, I don’t know what you're talking about. Let. Me. Go," you spat, wrenching your arm hard. His grip tightened painfully, and your pulse spiked. His hot breath hit your face, and you realized how dim and isolated the balcony was. Panic gripped you. He was stronger, faster, and clearly unstable.

"I think she said get the fuck off her."

The voice sliced through the tension like a heavy blade. Both you and Peter snapped toward the sound.

Jungkook.

You couldn't see his face. His solid frame was backlit by the grand hotel lights—but you knew that voice. 

Firm. Clear. Furious.

In three strides, Jungkook closed the distance. One hand clamped around your arm—Peter’s grip still locked tight—and Jungkook’s other hand shoved Peter so hard he staggered back, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Peter snarled, but Jungkook didn’t even look at him. Without a word, Jungkook yanked you behind him, placing his body like a wall between you and Peter.

"Touch her again," Jungkook bit out, "and you won’t see the fucking sun tomorrow."

You swore the entire world tilted when Jungkook finally turned his head, pinning Peter with a stare so ice-cold it could burn.

"You want to try me? He chuckled, amusement lacing his words. "Please, go ahead." His voice was too calm, too controlled. The kind that comes before a storm.

Peter swallowed hard. His eyes darted to you, then back to Jungkook, and whatever stupidity had driven him to this point finally died.

Smart choice.

Everything blurred after that. One second, Jungkook was throwing more venom-laced words at Peter, and the next, his fingers were locked around your wrist, dragging you away.

You barely registered the cold night air as he led you outside. The ground beneath you was uneven, the gravel crunched beneath your heels as you struggled to keep up with his long, and urgent strides.

"Jungkook—wait," you stammered, breathless.

He didn’t stop. His grip on your wrist stayed firm, fingers locked.

"Stop, I said STOP!" You yanked your hand free, stumbling back a step. Jungkook halted in his tracks, turning sharply, his eyes startled and almost guilty.

For a moment, he just stared. His expression was softer than before — gone was the sharp anger he'd shown with Peter.

Now, his eyes flickered with something else.

Concern? Hesitation?

His mouth opened like he was about to speak, but he closed it just as fast.

“What the hell was Peter talking about?” you pressed, voice rising. “Yoongi? Almost getting fired? Do you know something? Tell me!”

Frustration bubbled inside you. You hated feeling like a fool when everyone else seemed to know something you didn’t.

“That guy… Peter,” Jungkook muttered, “he’s not someone you should trust, obviously, I should’ve warned you, just didn’t know how. He was friends with… well, the guy Yoongi had problems with.” 

You shot him an exasperated look, one hand flung out in a gesture for him to continue. 

His voice lowered, cautious. “They had some kind of argument, and things escalated. The guy got fired, and Yoongi got suspended for it.”

“Okay? I don't understand. What does that have to do with me?”

Jungkook shifted uneasily. “Yoongi... I think Yoongi should tell you. It should come from him.”

“What difference does it make?” you snapped. “He obviously told you, and you know, so just—god, this is so frustrating.” You ran a hand through your hair, heart hammering.

“He didn’t,” Jungkook admitted quietly. “He didn’t tell me... I just figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Your voice rose again, and a few heads turned. Irritated, you grabbed Jungkook’s arm and pulled him behind a tree for some privacy. “What the hell is going on?” you demanded, voice low but now shaky. “Tell me what you know, for Christ’s sake.”

Jungkook exhaled deeply, dragging a hand through his hair.

"He caught that guy—the one who got fired—with deepfake videos of you on his computer."

Your breath hitched. You knew nothing about this. Who else knew? Did everyone know except you?

"The guy’s computer crashed, and when Yoongi fixed it, he found folders, pictures of you. Nothing explicit, just random shots from the office…but it was creepy enough that Yoongi reported him right away." He exhaled sharply, jaw tightening. "Things… got heated when Yoongi confronted him."

“When did this happen?” you asked, your voice quieter now. Your heart pounded so loudly you could barely hear yourself speak.

“Right before I started,” Jungkook said, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. His brows pulled together, eyes scanning yours carefully. “Remember when Yoongi said he was taking PTO? The one where he went on a fishing trip with Jin?"

You nodded. Of course you remember that.

"It wasn’t a vacation…" He continued, his voice low and softer now. "He was suspended. He, uh, punched the guy. People saw. Management had no choice.”

So what, I’m the only idiot who didn’t know?” Your voice shook in anger, humiliation, disgust. “Everyone else knew? And I’ve just been walking around like some clueless dumbass while they all pitied…hated me behind my back?”

Jungkook’s head snapped up, shaking quickly, almost desperately. His teeth sank into his lower lip like he was physically trying to stop more words—more confessions, more revelations—from slipping out. “No. I don’t think a lot of people know. Yoongi told no one.”

“Then how did you find out?” you pressed, your voice firm.

A beat of silence.

“I hacked the HR files,” Jungkook muttered, almost sheepish.

Your hands curled into fists. 

You needed to talk to Yoongi.

Now.

Because what the fuck?

taglist: @taekritimin123, @vantelover1306, @random-musingsss @likewtaf @jeonmaleficent @almatiarau, @kxthx-b, @lively-potter, @jk-190811, @ilovejungkook9999, @goldietigers294, @dreamyluna18, @va1-erie, @snow-strawberry, @lovieku, @daskewl @jksusawife @daskewl @pp0810 @cherryreadsfics @boyfriendtaekook @michuga @kchukes @ahgasegotarmy116 @michellekosmos @pitchblack0309 @hoseokteardrop @blueberriesm @jkslaugh97 @mysteriousgeminizone @jimintopiaaaa @marvelbun @rayyrayy10 @onlyoursol-ace @rkivesarchive, @vjoon9495, @sang-09, @kp0pficdump, @imeverycliche, @macanooni, @milkxgukk

let me know if i missed tagging you! again, thanks for waiting and reading :)

[kaiyunsim]

all i want —

pairing : popular boy!jay x gn!reader

summary : your main objective is to gain the attention of the popular boy, park jongseong, and once you do some things don't go to plan.

warnings : angst, ANGST, like quite literally the littlest amount of fluff, college au, featuring heeseung and jake, huening kai from txt, yunah from illit, yunjin, chaewon, and sakura from le sserafim.

a/n : BACK TO DOING REQUESTS !! this was the modren au of the pierrot request (i hope it turned out like you liked anon!)

queueing : all i want - olivia rodrigo

[requested]

— wc : 3.9k — not proof read ! —

you don’t think you’re in love with jay park...

really, you don’t.

but there’s something about him that makes you pay attention. the way he walks through campus like he belongs everywhere, always greeted by someone, always flashing that effortless, lopsided grin that seems to make people forget whatever they were talking about before he arrived. he’s just that kind of person, the type everyone seems to like without him even trying.

and maybe that’s why you notice him.

you wouldn’t call it an obsession, not even close, but you do find yourself looking for him in crowded lecture halls, in the dining hall, at whatever random student event yunah drags you to. it’s not on purpose. not really...

“it’s a little on purpose,” kai says one afternoon, shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth as he gives you a knowing look.

yunah snickers beside him, chin propped up in her hand. “a lot on purpose, actually.”

you roll your eyes. “you guys are exaggerating.”

“sure,” yunah says, dragging out the word like she doesn’t believe you at all. “so you just happened to sit right in his line of sight at lunch yesterday?”

“it’s not my fault that’s where the only open seats were.”

kai snorts. “right. and you just accidentally wore your nicest jacket that day, too?”

you huff, turning your attention back to your food as heat crawls up your neck. okay, so maybe you put a little effort into your presence around jay. but can you be blamed? it’s not like you’re the only one who notices him. half the school probably has a crush on him, and why wouldn’t they? he’s good-looking, confident, and way too charming for his own good.

but unlike everyone else, you want him to notice you. so try and you make it happen.

it starts small, passing by him in the library and making a quick comment about whatever book he has in his hand. holding the door open for him when you both leave the same building. sitting just close enough in class that he might overhear you cracking a joke to yunah or kai, just in case he finds you funny.

and eventually, he does notice.

the first time jay actually acknowledges you beyond a passing glance, it’s in the middle of a group study session for one of your shared classes. the conversation shifts to a ridiculous debate over the best late-night snacks, and when you confidently declare that convenience store ramen at 2 a.m. is objectively the best, jay raises an eyebrow at you.

“that’s the most broke college student thing i’ve ever heard,” he says, but there’s amusement in his tone, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

you shrug. “i never claimed to be high-class.”

he laughs at that. a real laugh, not just the polite kind. and for the first time, his full attention is on you.

it feels like a win.

after that, it’s easier. jay doesn’t just glance past you anymore; he acknowledges you. he returns your passing comments with witty remarks of his own, sometimes even initiates conversation. he’s not overly warm, not the kind to suddenly become your best friend overnight, but you can tell he enjoys the back-and-forth. and that’s enough.

for now.

yunah, of course, is convinced this is all hilarious. “you’re playing a dangerous game,” she warns one evening as the two of you walk across campus. “this whole ‘subtly inserting yourself into his life’ thing? it’s a lot.”

“it’s not a lot,” you argue. “it’s casual.”

“right,” she says, dragging the word out again.

kai, when you recount the conversation to him later, just shakes his head. “i give it a month before you start actually falling for him.”

you scoff. “i am not falling for jay park.”

but kai just gives you a knowing look, and something about it makes you uneasy.

because if you’re being honest, completely honest, you’re not sure if he’s wrong.

you don’t expect jay to start texting you.

sure, he acknowledges you now. you exchange jokes in class, he actually meets your eyes when you speak, and sometimes... sometimes. he even leans in when you say something, like he actually cares about your words. but that’s different from texting.

so when his name pops up on your screen for the first time, you nearly drop your phone.

jay park: did you get the notes for today’s lecture?

it takes you way too long to process those six simple words, and even longer to figure out what to say back. because, sure, it’s a normal text, nothing special, but it’s jay. texting you. on purpose.

your fingers hover over the keyboard. do you play it cool? act casual? should you tease him about it? no, that’s too much. you settle on something neutral.

you: yeah, want me to send them?

the read receipt pops up almost instantly.

jay park: yeah, thanks. appreciate it.

you send a picture of your notes and lock your phone, setting it face down on your desk like that will stop you from overanalyzing the situation.

“you good?” yunah asks, raising an eyebrow at your suddenly frozen state.

kai, always observant, glances between you and your phone and immediately narrows his eyes. “no way,” he says slowly. “don’t tell me—”

“jay texted me,” you blurt out, then slap a hand over your mouth like you just confessed to a crime.

yunah’s eyes go wide. “shut up.”

kai looks like he’s waiting for a punchline. “you’re lying.”

you flip your phone over, showing them the screen, and instantly, yunah grabs your wrist to pull it closer while kai gapes at you.

“oh my god,” yunah breathes. “he has your number?”

“i—yeah?” you laugh, feeling a little dizzy. “i mean, i didn’t give it to him, but i guess he got it from someone.”

kai groans, leaning back in his chair. “this is it. this is how it starts.”

“how what starts?” you ask, even though you think you already know the answer.

“you, falling headfirst for this guy.”

you scoff, but the warmth in your chest betrays you. “it’s just a text.”

yunah smirks. “for now.”

—

the texts don’t stop.

it’s nothing excessive, mostly casual messages about class, sometimes the occasional comment about something that happened that day. but then it starts shifting.

jay sends you a meme once, completely unprompted. you stare at it for a full minute before sending back a laughing emoji, unsure of what reaction is expected.

jay park: thought you’d appreciate that one.

you: oh, so now you’re studying my sense of humor?

jay park: maybe. gotta keep up with you somehow.

and just like that, it starts to become something more.

it’s little things at first. he responds faster, starts teasing you more, even initiates conversations that aren’t about class. you notice how his friends start giving him looks when he talks to you, how heeseung nudges him in the ribs when he passes you in the hallway, how jake smirks every time jay lingers near you after class.

one night, you’re sitting in your dorm scrolling mindlessly when your phone buzzes.

jay park: we’re getting food. you in?

you blink at the message.

you: we?

jay park: me, heeseung, jake. maybe a couple others.

it takes you a second to process. jay park, who you’ve spent weeks trying to get to notice you, is inviting you out. voluntarily.

you don’t even hesitate before typing out a response.

you: where?

—

when you show up at the burger place jay mentioned, it’s easy to spot their table—mostly because jake is laughing way too loudly at something heeseung said.

jay catches sight of you first, raising an eyebrow. “didn’t think you’d actually come.”

you scoff, sliding into the open seat across from him. “why invite me if you thought i wouldn’t?”

he shrugs, smirking. “figured i’d give you a chance to prove you’re cool enough to hang with us.”

“and if i’m not?”

“then we’ll kick you out, obviously.”

heeseung snorts. “nah, you’re fine. we need someone to humble jay every now and then.”

“i don’t need humbling,” jay says, rolling his eyes.

jake just grins. “sure, man.”

the night is surprisingly easy. conversation flowing effortlessly, laughter coming naturally. you don’t miss the way jay leans back in his seat, arms crossed as he watches you banter with his friends, like he’s assessing you. but he doesn’t seem bored. if anything, he looks amused.

and when the night ends, as you’re heading back to your dorm, your phone vibrates again.

jay park: not bad. you might actually survive in our group.

you bite back a smile.

you: gee, thanks for the approval.

you don’t think too hard about the fact that jay park, who could easily ignore you, who used to barely acknowledge you, now texts you first. now invites you out. now looks at you like you’re someone worth paying attention to.

but maybe, just maybe, you should.

you don’t hesitate when jay invites you to the party.

it’s casual. the way he mentions it, the way he shrugs like it’s no big deal. but the moment he says, you should come, there’s no question about whether or not you’ll be there. you tell yunah and kai immediately, mostly so they can’t talk you out of it.

"this is a terrible idea," kai groans as you drag him toward the house, music already thudding through the walls.

"but we're already here, so you have no choice," you grin, nudging him forward.

yunah, always up for chaos, just laughs. "it's one party, kai. let them live a little."

"yeah, yeah," kai sighs. "just don’t say i didn’t warn you."

you roll your eyes but don’t say anything. because tonight—you know tonight is going to be different and it starts off exactly how you want it to.

jay finds you fast, like he was waiting. he’s got that easy grin, a drink in hand, eyes bright under the dim lighting.

"look who actually showed up," he says, bumping his shoulder against yours.

"what, you didn’t think i would?"

he tilts his head, considering. "nah. i figured you'd follow me anywhere at this point."

you scoff, shoving him lightly. "you're delusional."

he just laughs.

but the thing is... he doesn’t leave your side.

he finds ways to stay close, to lean in when he talks, to rest an arm on the couch behind you like it’s second nature. every little thing. every glance, every smirk, every low-spoken joke, feels intentional. like he’s choosing to focus on you.

yunah shoots you a look from across the room, eyebrow raised, like shes saying 'oh, so we’re winning now?'

you grin, triumphant. maybe you are.

and then the door opens, and everything changes.

you don’t see her at first. but you feel it. the shift in energy, the way jay stiffens slightly beside you. you follow his gaze, and there she is.

huh yunjin.

she steps in like she belongs here, and maybe she does. kura and chaewon are right beside her, laughing at something she says. she’s glowing, not literally, but she might as well be, because suddenly, it feels like she’s the brightest thing in the room.

jay notices. of course he does.

but it’s how he notices that gets you.

his body shifts, attention snapping to her completely. he doesn’t call out to her or wave her over. he just watches, eyes sharp, focused. you recognize it instantly. it’s the same way you’ve been looking at him.

"ah, shit," kai mutters under his breath, low enough that only you hear.

yunah catches it too. her expression hardens slightly, but she doesn’t say anything.

you swallow down whatever weird feeling creeps up your throat. "it’s fine," you say, even though no one asked.

because it is fine. yunjin doesn’t even notice jay yet. she’s too busy greeting people, laughing with her friends, tossing her hair over her shoulder like she’s in a movie. she’s effortless. natural.

jay shifts beside you, sitting up a little straighter, like he’s bracing himself.

and then, as if the universe is playing a joke on you, she looks over and jay moves before you can process it.

he doesn’t leave entirely, doesn’t abandon you completely, but he leans forward, elbows on his knees, suddenly more present. more intentional. his usual laid-back smirk fades into something more composed, like he actually cares about the impression he’s making.

it’s subtle, but it’s there. and you notice.

you always notice.

because it’s different from how he is with you.

yunah squeezes your wrist under the table. you barely realize you’ve gone quiet.

you breathe in, slow. force yourself to smile.

"i need another drink," you mutter.

kai frowns. "you good?"

"yeah," you say quickly, already standing up. "i’m fine."

but the thing is, you’re not so sure anymore.

and the next thing you know, you wake up with a headache and the vague memory of kai shoving water into your hands last night, telling you to drink this before you pass out on my couch.

turns out, you did pass out on his couch.

the ceiling above you is unfamiliar, but the weight of a blanket over your shoulders and the distant sound of yunah humming in the kitchen reminds you where you are. kai's apartment. safe.

your head is pounding. maybe you drank a little too much last night. maybe you just needed an excuse to forget the way jay looked at yunjin like she was the only person in the room.

kai walks past the couch, arms crossed, unimpressed. "so, you really wanna do this to yourself?"

you groan, pulling the blanket over your face. "what are you talking about?"

"you know exactly what i’m talking about," he deadpans.

yunah walks in, placing a bottle of water and a slice of toast on the coffee table. "you were quiet the whole walk home. that’s never a good sign."

you peek out from under the blanket, blinking at them. "i was tired."

"you were thinking," yunah corrects. "about him."

you don't answer, but the way you hesitate says enough. yunah and kai share a glance, then sigh at the same time.

"this is bad," kai mutters.

"this is really bad," yunah agrees.

you sit up slowly, stretching out your sore limbs. "guys, it’s not that deep."

kai gives you a look. "not that deep? he spent the whole night staring at someone else while you were right there. and you still think it’s not that deep?"

you shrug, even though the memory stings. "i never expected anything from him."

"that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck," yunah says gently.

you don’t answer. because what are you supposed to say?

yeah, it sucks. yeah, i noticed the way he changed when she walked in. yeah, i feel like an idiot.

instead, you just take the water bottle and sip slowly.

—

the thing is, jay doesn’t ignore you after the party. if anything, he starts texting more.

but the texts aren’t what you expect.

hey, do you know where yunjin usually gets coffee? i feel like she mentioned a favorite café before. any idea what it is? does she have a type? just wondering lol.

the first time it happens, you stare at your phone for a long time before answering.

the second time, you laugh to yourself, because of course this is how it’s going to go.

the third time, you almost don’t respond. but you do.

because if this is what it takes to stay in his orbit a little longer, isn’t it worth it?

you tell yourself it doesn’t matter. you tell yourself this was never supposed to be serious. you tell yourself it’s fine.

so you text him back. you tell him what you know. you play along.

you pretend it doesn’t hurt.

—

"this is pathetic," kai says.

you scowl at him over your laptop. "you’re dramatic."

"no, you’re dramatic," he argues, pointing at your phone. "you’re literally feeding him intel on another girl."

yunah sighs, flopping onto the couch beside you. "kai’s right. he’s using you."

"it’s not that serious," you mumble, pretending to focus on your screen.

"then why do you look like you wanna throw your phone into the sun every time he texts?"

you don’t have an answer for that.

yunah reaches for your phone, and you yank it out of reach. she glares. "just admit it. this sucks. he sucks. and you’re letting it happen."

"it’s not like i thought this would go anywhere," you mutter, picking at the corner of your laptop.

kai softens. "yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay to let yourself get hurt."

yunah nudges your shoulder. "you deserve better than this, you know?"

you force a smile. "i know."

but deep down, something bitter curls in your chest. because maybe you don’t.

the first time you notice it, you don’t think much of it.

jay’s replies come slower, a little shorter. instead of texting you back immediately, minutes stretch into hours. sometimes, he doesn’t respond at all.

it’s fine. you’re not obsessed with him or anything. you have your own life, your own friends. it’s not like you’re waiting by your phone.

but then it happens again. and again.

soon, the texts stop altogether.

"just say it," you sigh, stirring your iced coffee with the straw.

yunah doesn’t even pretend to be subtle. "he’s ghosting you."

kai, always a little softer, presses his lips together. "maybe not ghosting. just… phasing out?"

"wow, that makes it sooo much better," you roll your eyes.

kai shrugs. "i’m just saying, he’s not the type to cut people off all at once. he’s probably just—"

"getting closer to yunjin," yunah finishes, rolling her eyes. "as if we didn’t all see that coming."

you glance down at your phone. still nothing.

you shouldn’t care this much. you really shouldn’t.

"are you gonna text him?" kai asks.

"why would i?"

"because you obviously want to," yunah says, propping her chin in her palm.

you hesitate. you could text him. ask if things are still cool. act like you’re totally unbothered, like you haven’t noticed the way he’s been pulling away.

but would it even matter?

the things is... eventually, you give in.

you : are we still cool?

the message sits there, unread, for a while. long enough for you to regret sending it.

jay park : of course. just been busy.

busy.

you stare at the words, feeling something uneasy settle in your stomach.

maybe that’s true. maybe you’re overthinking. maybe he really has just been busy.

but a part of you knows better.

—

you see him at a party a few nights later.

he’s not alone.

yunjin is next to him, laughing, her hand brushing against his like it’s the most natural thing in the world. kura and chaewon are there too, but you barely notice them. all you can see is jay. how he leans in when yunjin speaks, how he looks at her like she’s interesting, like he actually wants to be there.

like the way he never looked at you.

"busy, huh?" yunah mutters beside you, sipping her drink.

kai watches you carefully. "we can leave if you want."

"i don’t care," you say, forcing a smile. "it’s whatever."

but the drink in your hand feels heavier than it should.

and you tell yourself you won’t text him. kai and yunah would kill you if they knew you were even thinking about it.

but after days of nothing,no accidental run-ins, no random messages, not even a halfhearted like on your instagram stories, you cave.

you don’t overthink it. you just type and hit send before you can regret it.

you : hey, been a while.

it’s casual. easy. something a normal, unbothered person would send.

you wait. five minutes. ten. an hour.

then—

he reads it.

and then—

nothing.

no reply. no reaction. just silence.

—

you stare at your phone, blinking at the message screen like if you look long enough, maybe it’ll change. maybe he’ll say sorry, just saw this or been meaning to text you.

maybe he’ll say something but the hours keep stretching, and your phone stays quiet.

your throat tightens. you don’t cry. you don’t even feel angry, not at first.

just... hollow.

because this is it. the final confirmation.

you weren’t anything to him. just a convenient distraction. a means to an end.

the next time you see him, you almost don’t recognize him.

he’s sitting outside the student center, laughing at something yunjin says. his arm is draped over the back of the bench she’s sitting on, close but not quite touching. heeseung and jake are there too, but they don’t seem to notice you standing a few feet away, gripping your coffee cup a little too tight.

jay doesn’t notice either.

doesn’t glance your way, doesn’t react. it’s like you’re invisible.

like you were never there at all.

—

“he’s an asshole.”

kai is pacing your dorm room, voice sharp with irritation. yunah sits cross-legged on your bed, scrolling on her phone, but you can tell she’s only half paying attention to whatever’s on the screen. she’s been sneaking glances at you all night, eyes careful, like she’s waiting for you to break.

but you don’t.

“he’s not an asshole,” you mumble instead, leaning back against the wall. “he just… lost interest.”

kai stops mid-step. “lost interest? you’re acting like he was interested in the first place.”

yunah shoots him a look. “kai.”

“no, really.” he throws up his hands. “we all told you this would happen. you knew this would happen.”

you let out a breath, staring at the ceiling. “yeah. i did.”

kai falters, like he wasn’t expecting you to agree. “so why does it still bother you?”

yunah elbows him. “subtle.”

but he’s right. it does bother you. more than you want to admit.

because it’s not just that jay cut you off. it’s how he did it. no explanation. no confrontation. just silence, like you never mattered enough to even deserve a proper goodbye.

like you were always disposable.

—

the following week, you try to move on.

yunah drags you to the campus café, pulling you into conversations about professors and weekend plans. kai forces you into game night at his dorm, playing aggressively just to get a reaction out of you.

and for a while, it works.

you laugh. you focus on other things. you tell yourself you don’t care anymore.

then you see him again.

it’s late, and you’re leaving the library, rubbing at your tired eyes when a familiar voice reaches your ears.

jay.

he’s walking ahead of you, talking to yunjin, their steps in sync. the sight of them makes something twist in your stomach, but you ignore it. you don’t have the energy for this tonight.

but then she laughs at something he says, and he turns to her with that same easy smile, the one he used to give you.

and something inside you snaps.

you don’t even know why, but you take your phone out and open your messages. your last text is still there, still unanswered. for a second, you think about deleting it. erasing any evidence of your own stupidity.

but instead, you just type out one more message.

got your answer loud and clear.

then, before you can think twice, you hit send.

and block his number.

~

ty for reading and enjoying !

enha taglist :

perm taglist : @s0shroe

[worldlxvlys]

ANNA. GIRL. I HAVE THE BEST IDEA EVER.

ok, so I was just listening to one of the girls by the Weeknd and I need the filthiest, most pantie soaking, mouth watering, sheet gripping smut about chris based off that song. only if you want though LMAO. also probably really unpopular opinion but chris is most DEFINITELY the dominant one during sex. anyway love you pretty girl!!

one of the girls

fwb! chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smuttttt, semi-public sex, roughhhh sex, choking, slapping, spitting, degradation, dumbification, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, squirting, fingering, overstimulation, humiliation, recording, cursing

a/n: have your holy water on standby y’all

lock me up and throw away the key

he knows how to get the best of me

chris and i’s friendship was anything but normal. to some, it may even be perceived as toxic.

but me? i loved it.

i trusted him enough to do whatever he wanted to me, no matter how extreme.

tell nobody i control you

i broke you just to own you

they can’t tell that i love you

‘cause you’re loyal, baby

he was possessive, but it was hot. we weren’t actually together, but by the way he acted when other guys approached me, you would think we were.

he didn’t want to see me with anyone other than him, and i felt the exact same.

nobody else made me feel the way he did, anyway.

nobody else understood how to test my limits without going overboard.

i love when you’re submissive

love it when i break skin

you feel pain without flinching

i allow him to do whatever he wants to, and in return he he gives me a perfect mix of pleasure and pain.

he constantly pushes me to my limits, it’s almost gratifying to know that i can handle more than i think.

though my masochistic ways can be alarming to some, chris understands. he never judges or questions the things that bring me pleasure.

all it takes is a simple, “i need a distraction” and he has me pushed up against the door, his hand wrapped around my neck.

his fingers wrap around my throat, constricting my airway enough to stop my breathing.

he waits until i look like i’m about to pass out to loosen his grip.

we don’t gotta be in love, no

i don’t gotta be the one, no

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight

it doesn’t matter who he fucked yesterday, or who he’s seeing tomorrow. all that matters is right now.

and right now, we’re at a party, where he has me bent over a chair on the host’s back porch.

“you forget who the fuck you belong to? letting him undress you with his eyes like that?” he struck my ass with the palm of his hand over and over, making me cry out.

“how do you think he’d feel knowing that i’m fucking you on his porch?” he asked as he thrusted into me roughly, pushing my hips into the wooden chair harshly with every movement.

i moaned uncontrollably, gripping onto the chair for dear life as he pounded into me.

deciding to play with him, i looked back at him and spoke, “bet he could fuck me better than you ever will”

we both knew it wasn’t true, but chris stopped his movements immediately, making me whine out.

“think we should go find him? let him watch me fuck your brains out?” he asked as he pulled me to stand up.

“no, chris! please, just-” he cut me off by smacking my ass.

suddenly, he spotted a camera that was aimed at a short table in the middle of the porch.

“hmm, looks like he keeps his home secure, baby. you think he gets alerts when there’s movement on his porch?” chris raised his eyebrows at me, pushing me to the table that the camera was aimed at.

“he’s gonna watch this back and see you get fucked like the dirty little cockwhore you are" he rasped into my ear as he placed me onto the low table on my hands and knees.

he held my arms behind my back as he began to fuck me from behind again.

a cool breeze filled the air, making my nipples hard and sending a shiver down my spine.

he gripped my jaw harshly, turning my face to look at him, “open” he spoke.

when i opened my mouth, he gathered his saliva in his mouth before spitting into mine.

i immediately swallowed, making him slap my cheek lightly.

“now look at the camera” he said as he gripped my jaw, angling it so i was looking straight into the camera.

he pushed my body down, holding my shoulder down as his cock continued to stretch out my tight walls.

“you better make a fucking mess all over this table, make sure he knows how good i made you feel” his mouth found its way to my neck, biting at the skin roughly.

“f-fuck, chris” i moaned as his fingers brushed my hard nipples, before squeezing them firmly.

he suddenly grabbed my throat with his hand, pulling me closer to him.

my eyes rolled into the back of my head at the feeling of his hand squeezing around my throat.

he circled my clit with his free hand, and my head fell back onto his shoulder in response.

“such a fucking slut, you love being fucked out here in the open, huh?”

“good, good, so fucking good, holy shit” all i could do was chant those words, not being able to concentrate on chris’s words.

“look at you, going dumb for my cock” he spoke as he continued to fuck his hips into mine.

i mumbled a string of incoherent curses in response, grabbing his bicep as i felt my orgasm approaching.

“you gonna cum?” he asked as he felt me clench around him.

“yes, yes, yes, yes” i chanted as my eyes rolled back and i released on his cock.

“fuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up” he groaned before he did exactly that, shooting his seed deep inside of my walls.

he pulled out, quickly replacing his dick with two fingers.

“chris!” i moaned in surprise as he fucked his fingers into me.

“wanna see you squirt all over this fucking table” he growled into my ear.

his fingers moved so quickly inside of me, i could barely keep up.

i reached down to move his hand, but he wasn’t having it.

he pushed me forward, pressing my face into the table.

“it feel good? you like being fingered out here where anyone could see?” he asked as he added another finger.

“yes, yes, oh my god” i cried out as i felt another orgasm coming.

“yeah? then fucking take it” he said.

“chris! i’m cumming!” i yelled as my body shook violently on the table.

“oh my god” i yelled as my juices shot out of me.

“i know you have more, ma. give it to me”

he continued to move his fingers inside of me, watching as the liquid continued to pour out of me, making me scream.

“fuck” i breathed out when his fingers stopped , allowing me to catch my breath.

chris helped me off of the table, helping me to fix my dress so i was covered again before fixing himself up.

he left for a second, coming back with paper towels to clean up our mess.

“hey, you good to get home by yourself? i got something to do” he said, looking down at his phone.

more like someone to do.

“yeah, go. have fun”

with that, he kissed my cheek and left.

we don’t gotta be in love, no

i don’t gotta be the one, no

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight

💋💋💋💋

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07

[moonstruckme]

I’ve been binge reading your emt polymarauders. And I gotta tell you ! It’s like sipping a nice lemonade on a summer day. Oh my…

I’m a medical student so I loooooove this prompt so much. I couldn’t sleep tonight because biochemistry has been rotting my brain. Ugh

Anyways,

I had an idea, could you maybe make a reader who’s in her first year of med school and she’s so stressed. The boys try to ease her a little but she doesn’t listen and itch closer to burnout. Until she starts to feel unwell and comes out of her study to drink water. But before she can react she passes out and the boys rush to help.

(Totally not happened to me once in front of almost 30 3rd years. Nooooo.)

Hope you like the idea ❤️

Thanks babe, I'm glad you enjoy them! And thank you for requesting <3

cw: academic stress, fainting

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“What nerve supplies the posterior arm and forearm?” Remus asks you. 

The words are beginning to sound like gibberish. “The, um…the radial nerve.” 

“Well done.” Remus sets your flash card atop a stack. There are three of them, ones you know well, ones you’re still shaky on, and ones you’ve not got a clue about. This card goes in the first stack. It’s small enough that every addition feels like a victory. 

Your boyfriends have been kind enough to bring you lunch at the library. It was quickly revealed as a plot to try and coax you into taking a break, but when that clearly wasn’t working they decided to stay awhile and keep you company. You have a reading room all to yourself today, so James has made himself comfortable on the couch and Sirius has laid his head down in his lap, content to have his hair played with while James watches you and Remus study.

“And which carpals communicate with the radius?” Remus asks. 

“Um…”

“Think carefully,” Sirius says in his TV host voice. “This one’s for full points.” 

You blink. You feel suddenly odd. Off-kilter. “There’s two,” you say slowly. “Lunate and…um…” 

“Can we do hints?” James asks. 

You’d rather not, but you feel like you need it. “Sure.” 

“Alright.” Remus glances down at your card. “It starts with an s.” 

“I know it.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I had this one yesterday. It’s like sca…sca something. Sorry, I feel like I can’t concentrate.” 

“Do you want me to tell you?” Remus asks gently. 

You sigh. “Yeah, okay.” 

“It’s lunate and scaphoid.” 

You groan, pushing your fingers into your forehead. “I knew that.” 

“It’s alright.” Remus sets the card in the middle stack. He’s watching you carefully. “Do you think it’s time for a break?” 

“Yeah.” You take a deep breath. “I feel weird, I think…” You pick up your water bottle, but it’s light, empty. “I’m going to go get some water.” 

Remus’ eyes are sympathetic. “Good idea, dove.” 

The feeling worsens when you stand, like the change in altitude is making you light-headed. You take two steps. The first wobbles, the second sinks. 

You don’t remember passing out. There’s no darkening of your vision or panicky realization, just one second your knee is bending unbidden and the next the trampled fibers of the library carpet are smushed against your face. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.” It takes you a second to recognize the feel of hands under your head and ribcage, but that’s James’ voice. The knees of Remus’ trousers are in front of your face. “What’d you do that for?” 

“I didn’t mean to,” you mumble. 

“Let’s get you on your back,” says Remus. 

He and James work together to rotate you gently, and then you have a better view of the room. Remus and James kneeling above you, Sirius standing behind them with a look of wide-eyed horror. It appears each of your boyfriends has jumped up in a fright. 

“Do you feel warm?” Remus brushes some hair away from your face while James picks up your wrist to get your pulse and Sirius launches into action, kneeling by your feet. 

“Not really…” You startle as your legs pick up off the floor. “Sirius, my skirt!”

“It’s just us here, doll,” Sirius reminds you. “I promise to protect your modesty if anyone comes in, whatever the cost.” 

You frown at what he could mean by that, but Remus thumbs over your cheek placatingly. “Is there anywhere around here that might have sports drinks?” 

“Um, there’s a vending machine downstairs.” 

“Perfect. I’ll be back shortly.” He gives your cheek a quick hold before leaving. 

James kisses your palm once he’s done with your pulse, and then his fingers find the collar of your shirt, popping open the first two buttons with practiced ease. 

Your hand flies up to prevent him going further. “Why does everyone keep trying to undress me?” 

James laughs, and Sirius replies smoothly, “Why, is this not a good time for you?” 

“Take it easy, lovie.” James takes your hand, holding it in his own. “We’re just making sure all the blood that wants to go to your brain can get there.” 

“Oh.” You knew that. Or you should’ve, if your brain was working properly.

“If it’s somewhat risque in practice, I certainly don’t mind as much with you as I do with the old blokes we sometimes get.” Sirius winks at you. 

You offer up a weak smile in return, and he pouts. 

“How’re you feeling, sweetness?” 

“I’m alright.” You take a breath. “Can I sit up now?”

“Let’s give it a bit.” James rubs your shoulder. “How do you really feel?” 

“Just…weird. Shaky. But not too bad.” 

“That’s good,” he says, though he looks like he doesn’t quite believe you. 

“I think I’ll be fine once I get something to drink.” 

“Mm, I think there’s probably a bit more to it than that,” Remus says as he comes back in. He crouches beside you, twisting the top off a bottle of orange juice. “That is a very well-stocked vending machine. Do you feel ready to sit up, dove?” 

“I have been,” you say. “They won’t let me.” 

“Such ingratitude,” Sirius teases as he sets your feet back down. “We were only waiting for your juice.” 

James helps you up with a hand on your back, and it takes a second of wordless wrestling with Remus to get him to let you bring the bottle to your own lips. 

“You could be dehydrated,” he says as you drink, “or you could just be exhausted, or both. And you can faint from too much stress too, you know.” 

“I know,” you grumble, wiping your mouth. 

Remus takes your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. You find your indignance shrinking under his steady gaze. “You hurt yourself when you push yourself this hard, sweet girl.” 

“I know,” you say, softer now. “I thought I could handle it.” 

“You need to take more breaks.” 

You nod slightly. 

“And work on putting less pressure on yourself.” 

“Alright, Rem, lay off her.” Sirius rubs your knee. It breaks you from Remus’ trance, and your dark-haired boyfriend flashes you a smile when you look his way. “She’s got enough going through her head without having to remember all you want her to do. Let’s go home, yeah?” 

James insists on supporting you while you walk out of the library. Sirius and Remus debate what film you should put on once you get back to your flat. 

“Shouldn’t I get to choose?” you ask. 

“Well, look who’s feeling up to asking questions.” Sirius gives your cheek a condescending little pat. “Unfortunately, I don’t think you’re really ready to be picking out films, my love. Your decision making is probably still impacted from that fainting spell.” 

“Really.” You narrow your eyes at him. “I’ve never heard of that side effect.” 

“Well, you’re only a first year, doll. There’s lots you don’t know.”

[coldilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

DC x Pjo

Part 2

______________

"why can't my parent just claim me? My human parent doesn't like me, and now you're telling me there's a chance my godly parent might not even care about me at all?" You huff kicking a rock while walking to the dining pavilion

Annabeth's eyes fill with sympathy "You never know, maybe they're just busy"

"busy my ass... I've heard that excuse so many times before" you sit down at the Hermes table, where all the unwanted children sit

"So (Name), are you going to be a year round student or just for the summer, because we're gonna need Mr.D to sign you in" Travis Stoll one of the head counselors says to you

You think about it for a while, you saw how other children treated each other like family, how there was a director who loves the children as his own, you could find your place here, it doesn't matter if you have parents, you could find your family, just as everyone else in this camp did

"I-" then you stop, you mind going back to the Manor, how you left the hallways burning, and now you're missing, are they worried? Do they want to find you? What if they think you set the house on fire? Would you even have a home to return to?

It's not like you were as loved as Jason who could just die and come back

This set your decision, you are never going back to that cold mansion, you are never going to sleep in a silent room, here, you could build a life for yourself

"I'd like to stay year round" you say

"well that settles it, I'll explain the rules to you later 'kay?" He says

The infamous Mr.D seemingly groaned, you're pretty sure you heard him mumbling "another fucking kid"

___________________

Two days have passed, you feel like the happiest kid on earth

Annabeth is doing this thing where she's trying to help you find your godly parent, you couldn't care less(or could you?), but listen-

Yesterday you just shot 25 consecutive bullseyes and you've never felt so amazing, everyone was clapping their hands and we're praising you, and everyone was saying you were a natural at farming, sword fighting was one you enjoyed, you know a thing or two about combat so you gained respect from the other campers

But even after all those achievements, no one came to claim you

Now you're trying blacksmithing, you loved all the things you did but... The weapons were kinda ugly, every sword in the weaponry looked the same, only special kids get customized swords, so you were kinda hoping to make your own custom weapons and stuff, I mean no parent is gonna give it to you

"Hello!" You smile at the busy forgers, they acknowledge and some nod and some smile back

____________________

Tim looks at CCTV cameras, his eyes wide and in disbelief

A random woman, who somehow broke into the Manor, with a flamethrower, burned a hallway down

He saw this kid, well his little sibling, but I don't think it's appropriate to call you that, you ran crying for help- well you weren't crying for help exactly but you were screaming, you were seen running for your life away from this madwoman

whom he'll safely assume is one of his father's ex lovers or some villain that decided to get back at him

The problem was you.

No sign of you at all

Batman had everyone patrolling, Bruce Wayne reported you missing, a prize reward given to the one who'll find you dead or alive (alive hopefully)

There was this image he couldn't get out of his mind

In the middle of trying to salvage what could be saved in that fire... He spotted a family picture, a picture where everyone was still visible- and only your face had been burned off

He tried to help with the search, thinking about where you could go, what you could do, but he couldn't

He didn't know how you acted or how you'd decide

He knew nothing about you, and so did the others, it was like you were already dead before it was even confirmed

Damian walked in the room "you're still here? Dad already got the JL to help with search, quit trying to show them up"

"I just don't get it, she ran to the garden, but she wasn't there- could there be other villains waiting in the garden and took her? I don't know-"

The demon spawn scoffed "Anyways dad wants you to send the CCTV footage to JL, they said they'll analyze it or something"

Tim was doubtful, it's not like anyone there could spot what he couldn't, he was very observant (of everyone but (name) apparently)

____________________

Sorry it took a long time for me to update 😞, it was pt week and I had a lot of projects

But I wonder who could possibly be (name)'s godly parent?and who could spot what Tim couldn't?

@bat1212 @jisnothere @erikasurfer @nathaly36

[monstersflashlight]

A/N: Hi there! For those who don’t know, first part is here. (If that link doesn't work, try suscribing for free to Patreon and check this one) Enjoy! REPOSTED

Orc professor (part 2): late for class

Orc x chubby fem!reader || power dynamics, dom/sub undertones, exhibitionism (kinda), oral sex, size kink, age gap, degradation, praise kink

“If you want to show me your pussy, my cum better be leaking out of it. Do you understand?”

His words still echoed in your brain when you were getting dressed the next morning. You were already wet, and you fingered yourself to the memory of his dick in your pussy last evening. You were a bit sore, but the fact that you could still feel him made everything more intense, hotter… sexier. And it made everything so much better.

You decided to wear your pencil skirt this time, and blame it on your bad luck, but you spilled your coffee all over it. Cursing yourself, you changed as fast as possible, but not fast enough that you could get to class early as you knew you should.

By the time you arrived, he was writing something on the board. “Good morning, sir,” you enunciated very slowly, looking at him for directions as you saw the other few students entering behind you.

He turned around and stared at you with such intensity you felt your whole body react. You were almost panting, biting your lip not to groan out loud. “Good morning. You can sit down while I go to my office for a second.”

The other two students nodded and he passed you on his way to the door. He looked at you in such a way that you knew what you had to do without him having to say anything. You let your stuff on your usual seat and smiled at the girl who sat next to you, mumbling about going to get some coffee before class. She nodded with a smile and you had to stop yourself from running to his office.

You arrived just in time for him to pull you inside by the waist, pressing you against the door and kissing you senseless just like he did yesterday, his tusks feeling incredible against your jaw. His hands were traveling up and down your body, groping your ass and your thighs as he grunted against your lips.

“Fuck,” he whispered against your lips, pulling back and passing his hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture. “You were late. And I thought you regretted what happened yesterday. I was freaking out, little human. And then you walked out like nothing happened looking hot enough to eat and smelling like me… Good goddess. Do you know what you do to me?” He pressed his hips against your middle and you moaned at the feel of his huge hard on.

“I- I can feel it,” you stuttered, your voice quivering when his hands squeezed your ass, parting your cheeks and letting one of his fingers rub over your lace covered asshole.

“You have no idea. And now I can’t even fuck you properly. I can’t ruin you the way I want because you were late.” He punctuated each word with a squeeze and a roll of his hips. You panted, so horny you were about to burst and he didn’t even touch you. “Goddess, you smell so fucking good…” He whispered, burying his face on your neck and inhaling deeply.

“I’m sorry… I- I spilled coffee on my skirt and had to change and then I forgot a book and have to open the door again and…” Your rambling was interrupted by his lip covering yours again, swallowing your explanation as he grunted, his hands massaging your ass-cheeks once again.

“What do you have after my class?” He asked, his breathing labored, almost desperate.

“A couple more classes,” you told him, mentally checking if you could skip any of them. But you knew you couldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t. You were a damn good student… Even if you were fucking your way through one of your subjects.

“Shit.” He passed his hand through his hair again, messing it up and making you want to whimper. “Okay, okay. I have classes after lunch, but I’ll be here around four-ish. Does that work for you?” You nodded fervently. “Okay, I expect you to show me how sorry you really are for being late and depriving me from what I was promised.”

“I can… I can give you my panties now,” you offered, feeling the lace sticking to your pussy lips like a second skin because you were that wet.

“I don’t want them. I want you to be feeling how wet I made you all day. I want you to be uncomfortable and thinking about my cock deep inside your pussy until you are so horny you are desperate to come. Until you know how slutty you really are…” You moaned, his words igniting a fire inside of you that made your brain short-circuit. “Now, compose yourself, we have a very interesting class ahead. I’m sure you are dying to know about the survival strategies of cacti,” he said with a laugh, making you let out a choked giggle. You weren’t expecting him to joke. Shit, why did that make him hotter?

The class was boring, but you didn’t even care about it. You didn’t care about anything but the feel of your wet panties against your pussy and his words resonating inside your brain. He made a point of looking directly at you a couple times, going as far as to ask you something about what he was saying, just to huff in annoyance when you didn’t answer correctly. But he smirked in your direction and that was enough to send you spiraling into a thousand of new horny thoughts.

You left his class as fast as you could, trying very hard to look normal when you passed him, but his knowing smile only made your clit pulsate harder, your core clenching around nothing and making you want to beg him to take pity on you and fuck you right then and there. But you were stronger than that, so you left his class on your way to the next one.

You didn’t take a single note the rest of the day, your brain filled with possibilities and images of his hard dick. The feel of his lips against yours, and the ideas of how would feel against your lower lips… Your brain was running a mile per minute, and you couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t the rub of the lace against your clit. It was exhilarating and maddening at the same time, and by the time four rolled around, you were on the edge and you had to run to his office in need of release.

You knocked rapidly, and when you opened and saw him there, shirt rolled over his big green forearms and glasses pushed down on his nose you almost came right there. Fuck, he was so fucking sexy it wasn’t fair at all.

“Come on in,” he said as soon as you closed the door behind yourself.

You tried to lock it, but he shook his head… Oh shit, that made you even wetter. The idea that you could get caught. That somebody could just walk in and know how much of a slut you were, that you were fucking your professor for a good grade…

You moaned and he chuckled. “Come here, little human, I almost hear your brain short-circuiting.” You walked to him, your steps measured so you wouldn’t fall. Your knees feel like jelly, and your pussy is so wet you are sure he can hear it from the desk. “So… Did you think about what you are going to do to redeem yourself from not meeting your end of our deal this morning?” You nod. “Go ahead, tell me.”

You’d been thinking about it all day. Your whole brain occupied by thoughts of his cock inside of you, against you, spilling in and over you… But there was one thought that surpassed all others. “I- I want to suck you off, sir.”

He smirked, his tusks framing his plush lips in a way that made your clit tingle. “Is that so? But you have such a tiny human mouth, I don’t know if you’d be able to fit me…” He teased, making you blush. You gave him your panties everyday, and that’s what got you to blush, him teasing you… Incredible.

“I will. It will. It will fit, sir,” you stuttered. This orc made your brain so fuzzy you could barely process words correctly anymore. You could barely talk when he was close, especially now that you were moments away from sucking his dick down your throat.

“Prove it then, little slut.”

You dropped to your knees so fast you moaned when you hit the floor, the spark of pain focusing your brain for a second. But the second you touched his big-as-tree-trunks thighs, your brain disconnected again. Only heat and lust left behind. You pulled down his fly in a slow movement, staring up at him as he looked back at you with an indescribable look.

You took his dick out and gasped again. You already saw it, you had it inside of you, but it was nothing compared with the realization that you were about to fit that inside your mouth. Maybe he was right, and it wouldn’t fit.

His eyes were tender when he looked down at you. “Relax, you don’t have to take all of it, just whatever you are comfortable with. I like you submitting to me, but I don’t want to hurt you in any way. Do you understand?” You nodded, relief running down your body and making you even hornier.

“Okay,” you whispered.

And then you launched.

You pulled out your tongue and started mapping the veins of his huge shaft one after the other. His hands were gripping the arms of the chair with such force you could hear the leather breaking. You smiled against his dick and he grunted, one of his hands fisting your hair and urging you where he wanted you more. You complied, you wanted nothing more but to be a good girl for him, a good slutty human for him.

You took his head into your mouth, your lips so stretched it was almost uncomfortable, but you liked it. You loved the feel of his cock inside your mouth, it was exhilarating in a way you weren’t expecting. You weren’t one to like giving head in general, you preferred to go down on girls than guys, but definitely wasn’t your go to activity, but right there… You fucking loved it.

You rolled your tongue around the tip, teasing the underside where you knew he was especially sensitive. He moaned over you, his fist pulling at your hair and making you moan around him, which made him almost whimper and let out a series of curses that would make a pirate blush.

You kept going at it, you couldn’t get past a few centimeters, he was too wide for you to get him to the back of your throat, but by the glassy look in his eyes you understood it was enough. You were messy, your saliva getting everywhere as you bobbed your head up and down.

He was looking down at you reverently, and you couldn’t hold back a few more moans, who made him thrust up accidentally. You pulled back coughing, eyes teary and a few tears rolling down. He groaned at the sigh, and you felt your clit pulsating with your heartbeat. You were so close to coming, you wanted nothing more but to touch yourself. You threw your body to him again, but he stopped you with the hand tangled in your curls.

“I want to fuck your pretty face, would you let me, little slut? Would you let me use you like my personal fuck toy?” You whimpered, nodding against his thigh as he pulled your head back by the hair. “Such a good girl for me, already so needy and desperate. Look at you… You look so dirty like that. Remind me to take a pic so I can enjoy you later,” his words made you emit a guttural moan.

The idea of him taking pics of you like that, make up running and lips swollen… it made you feel hot. It made you feel so horny you could feel your juices dripping down to the floor under you, your panties so wet they couldn’t hold your gushing pussy anymore.

“You like that? You like me having pictures of how pretty you look all fucked up? Why do I even ask, of course you do, you are such a little slut for me. Now open up.” You obeyed and he directed his dick back against your welcoming mouth. “Tap my leg three times if it’s too much, okay?” You nodded again. “Words. How many times?”

“Three. I tap three times if it’s too much,” you repeat, breathless already.

“Good girl.”

And then he started a brutal pace. He used his hold on your hair to direct your movements, moving your head forward until you couldn’t take it further and then retreating. Repeating that process until something inside of you gave out and you felt him slip inside your throat. It was almost too much, you couldn’t breathe, but your eyes rolled back into your head at the sight of him in pleasure.

He pulled back to let you breathe, looking down at you with reverence. “You look so fucked out I want to ruin you. Would you let me ruin you, little human?” You nodded, unable to form words. “Such a good girl for me.” He pulled your head forward and started to fuck your mouth in earnest.

Your brain was fuzzy, your pussy so wet you could feel it dripping down, and your clit asking for attention. The weight of his cock against your tongue, his hand on your hair and his curses over you were driving you insane.

“Touch yourself for me, little human. Come around your tiny fingers. Show me how much you like sucking my orc cock,” his permission was enough, your hand traveling down your body and rubbing frantically against your clit, over the lace.

His pace became erratic, and your fingers rubbed so hard you were almost afraid to set your clit on fire. But it was so good, the combination of sensations so intense you were about to come.

“I’m about to come. Do you want it? Do you want to swallow my come or do you want it in your face, little slut?” You sucked harder, pushing your head further down, swallowing around him to indicate you wanted it. You wanted to swallow him whole.

That was all it took. He growled over you and pushed his dick as far as he could before you felt the first shot of his come in the back of your throat. He pulled back a little to avoid chocking you, the final spurs of his release filling your mouth to the brim, some of it dripping down your chin.

The second he opened his eyes and looked down at you, his dick still in your mouth, you were done. You flicked your clit one last time before you melted, pulling back and spilling the rest of his come over your boobs as you cried out your own release.

Your vision whited out, your ears ringing as you felt your body moving as he pulled you up onto his lap, his hands caressing your back as he whispered sweet nothings that your brain couldn’t process.

He took some tissues from the box on his desk and carefully cleaned your messy face. “You didn’t take the pic,” you told him.

“We didn’t talk about it beforehand. I wouldn’t risk stepping over your possible boundaries like that.” Your heart skipped a beat. “But don’t worry, we’ll have more opportunities if that’s something you’d enjoy…”

“We will?” You asked, a bit confused but a spark of hope blooming inside your chest.

“I’m not letting go of your sweet, sweet slutty pussy anytime soon,” he told you, kissing your forehead as his hand traveled down until it met your dripping panties. “I would like this panties now, thank you,” he whispered against your ear, you could sense his smirk on his tone, making you laugh so hard you snorted.

[winxanity-ii]

I JUST CANT GET THIS IMAGE OUT OF MY HEADDD

SILLY HEADCANON

ughhhh

Like when the kitchen serve smth that Y/n doesn’t like but she also doesn’t not want to seem like a picky eater she will just take a few bites then play coy and spoon feed it to Telemachus. Mask it as all lovely dovy n stuff, n everyone thinks they are sooooo cute but only Telemachus knows! And after a while he gain weights, like his baby fat returns, yet he still savour every bit of foof Y/n feed him…(he then process to lowkey do the same to Y/n..)

NO BECAUSE THIS??? THIS IS CANON. THIS IS SO THEM 😭😭

Telemachus sitting there, all pink in the face, cheeks full of food he didn't even ask for while Reader's like "oh nooo, I'm just being sweet~ ❤️" when really she's like "if I have to eat another mouthful of this I will simply pass away so YOU handle it."

And the baby fat comeback??? STOP. He's already built like he grew up on war bread and stress, so seeing him soften just a little because of you?? You feeding him with your own hands??? YOU'RE FATTERING THE PRINCE??? I'm about to faint in the name of love and domestic gluttony.

AND THE FACT HE STARTS DOING IT BACK??? I can already hear him all smug like, "Oh, so you didn't like that soup? That's alright, I’ll eat it—open." cue spoon dramatically aimed at your lips like it's war strategy 😩💖

This is the kind of softness that keeps me breathing. I'm clutching my pearls. You are a genius. A menace. A blessing. I want to write this. I want to breath this. I want to experience this in my life 😭

So um. Yeah. Here's a little scene you inspired:

𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 (post-move to the palace wing, late afternoon, private dining nook. Fluff overload.)

The stew was… awful.

Not poisonous—just aggressively bland. The kind that clung to your tongue and made your soul beg for forgiveness. A tragic grayish lump of overboiled roots and forgotten ambition.

You took one bite, then another—enough to seem polite—enough to fake it.

Then you set your spoon down with a sweet sigh and scooted your bowl ever so slightly toward the middle of the little table.

"Mm. You should eat mine too," you said, voice honeyed as you leaned your chin into your hand. "It's still warm."

Telemachus looked up from his own bowl, which he had been eating tucked by your window, sunlight catching on the tips of his lashes. He blinked at you, lips parted like he was mid-thought.. "That's the third meal this week you've 'sweetly' surrendered to me," he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm starting to think you hate the palace menu."

You tilted your head. "Noooo," you said, much too fast. "I just like seeing you eat. You look happier when you're chewing. Like a thoughtful goat... It's comforting."

You spooned up a bit of your untouched stew and leaned across the table. "Here," you offered with a sweet smile.

He huffed a laugh but leaned forward anyway, letting you feed him a bite. His mouth opened, and he bit down, wincing slightly.

"Mmm," he deadpanned.

"You didn't even chew it all the way," you whispered, scandalized watching as his jaw flexed as he chewed.

"Didn't need to. The pain was immediate." He raised a brow. "Tastes like boiled disappointment."

You giggled, scooping another bite. "C'mon. One more. I'll even give you a kiss if you finish it."

Telemachus froze.

You blinked at him, innocent.

He took it, eyeing you the whole time, before glancing at your down at your bowl. "Wait a second," he muttered. "You hate this stew."

You blinked again, wounded. "I would never—"

"You always get all syrupy with the compliments when the kitchen messes up," he went on, leaning back in mock-revelation. "That soup on Monday. The weird lemon thing on Tuesday. The steamed cabbage loaf yesterday—"

"I was being supportive of the kitchen's dishes and wanted you to try it," you interrupted.

"You made me eat three of them."

"It's character-building," you said, solemn.

He stared at you.

You stared back.

"You're not off the hook, you know."

You blinked. "What do you mean?"

Then slowly, he stood from his seat, circled the table, and crouched beside your chair.

You opened your mouth to say something else—but he plucked your spoon out of your hand before you could.

"Say 'ah.'" he murmured, crouching beside you now.

You blinked. "Telemachus, I—"

"I'm serious."

"You're going to make me eat it?"

"I'm going to feed it to you. Lovingly. Like you do me."

You stared at him with narrowed eyes. "That's evil."

He smiled—sweet, smug, soft around the edges. "Say 'ah.'"

So you sighed… and opened your mouth.

The stew was still awful.

But gods, his grin afterward made it easier to swallow.

He didn't comment when you tried to sneak him another bite halfway through.

He just took it. Quiet. Smiling. Watching you like he'd been waiting for this game to unravel.

And so it went—your silly little food dance. You pretending not to hate it, him pretending not to notice, and somehow both of you ending up full, and quietly warm.

And by the end of the week? His jaw was softer. His tunic snugger. You mentioned nothing.

Until one afternoon, when he poked his stomach and muttered something about needing to train more—because his belt was starting to groan when he sat down.

You just grinned.

And handed him another spoon